In the previous course of Lectures it was shown that as a nation we are the possessors of the remains of a school of art exemplified in a series of monumental types which are so truly unique that no other nation possesses a single example. It has now been demonstrated that we are also the possessors of the remains of a school of architecture which is as truly unique and even more pronounced in its features of absolute individuality. I do not claim for it any higher merit than that it has designed a typical form of structure possessed of almost perfect fitness for the purposes for which it was intended. It has no special beauty of form, nor is there evident in any of its parts the least attempt at ornamentation or decorative construction. But, judged by its proper standard—the measure of its fitness for its special purpose—its peculiar characteristics fulfil the most exacting requirements of architectural criticism. The fact that this peculiar type of structure exists only in one area must necessarily have some significance in relation to the history of architecture; but the fact that their remains may still be counted by hundreds must also have great significance in relation to the unwritten history of Scotland, for it is obvious that the presence within its area of this vast series of massive structures, so closely alike in their general features, and so admirably contrived in their special arrangements, implies a wide-spread concentration of thought and energy towards a common object which is found only in communities that have attained to a comparatively high condition of general culture and social organisation.