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Grecian Temple.

IT has been said that a definition of the picturesque in respect to architecture, or indeed any branch of the fine arts, is scarcely possible. The most able writers on the subject have failed to convey an adequate and popular idea. In fact the term has so great and extensive an application as to forbid exact definition. The architect usually considers that if his building look well when seen by moonlight, or through the medium of a foggy or dull atmosphere, it is picturesque, and he is satisfied. Blenheim Castle and Castle Howard have always been pointed out as eminent examples of the picturesque in buildings. But this quality varies with every change of situation and circumstance under which it can be conceived.

The entrance to the Acropolis of Athens, with its noble equestrian statues in the foreground, the steps between them, and the beautiful temples rising at different heights behind, giving a varied outline, the whole probably delicately coloured, must have been picturesque in the highest degree. The Temple of the Winds and the Monument of Lysicrates were equally examples of the picturesque. Yet although great efforts were made on the publication of Athenian Stuart’s volumes to introduce pure Grecian architecture here, it has obtained no hold with us. St. Pancras Church, and St. Stephen’s, Camden Town, are probably the last specimens in our metropolis. The delicate mouldings of the one are destroyed by the roughness of the climate, and the beautiful figures of the Caryatidæ in the other are covered with soot.

There is no doubt that the Roman temples were as picturesque and as varied in outline as the Grecian buildings of which they were studies, but none remain

Roman Temple in Ruins.

sufficiently perfect to illustrate them. In their original, entire state, with the surfaces and colour smooth and even, either in painting or reality, they were beautiful; in ruins, there is no denying they are highly picturesque. Observe the process by which time, the great author of such changes works, first by means of weather stains, partial incrustations, mosses, &c., which simultaneously take off the uniformity of surface and of colour, giving a degree of roughness, and variety of tint. Then the various accidents of weather loosen the stones themselves: they tumble in irregular masses upon what was perhaps smooth turf or pavement, or nicely trimmed walks and shrubberies, now mixed and overgrown with wild plants and creepers that crawl over and shoot among the falling ruins. Sedums, wall-flowers, and other plants that bear drought, find nourishment in the decayed cement from which the stones have been detached; birds convey their food into the chinks, and yew, elder, and other berried plants project from the sides; while the ivy mantles over other parts, and crowns the top. The even, regular lines of the doors and windows are broken, and through their ivy-fringed openings is displayed in a highly broken and picturesque manner that striking image described by Virgil:

“Apparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt

Apparent Priami et veterum penetralia regum.”

The first view given in this volume attempts to show the picturesque effect of the Grecian Temple in its complete state, the attendants having just retired from some display or ceremony; the second, the front of a Roman Temple in its noble remains.

To the Greeks we owe all the general principles and forms of classic art, but they have been modified to modern ideas and tastes, and, it may be added, to suit also the various climates of the countries where they have been adopted.

However much the occupations of our countrymen may partake of the commercial character, the mental qualities requisite to such pursuits have not been so displayed as to exclude a taste for art. Where, for example, can be found superior specimens of art-choice than exist in their mansions, villas, or cottage-ornées, their picture and sculpture galleries, or the museums and other collections of those whose business pursuits have been the cause of their prosperity.

An essential element of success in every branch of progress is involved in tasteful selection. Without considering those classes who by successful efforts of their ancestry have been placed beyond the pale of want (either artificial or real), a large proportion of our population may be ranked as having advanced morally, socially, and commercially by that intuition which characterizes our national progress. It takes as its basis nature and nature’s products. It eliminates from these not only pecuniary benefits that in a commercial point of view may occur, but associating the useful with the beautiful (the sense of the latter having been gained during intervals of quiet thought as a relief from the incessant requirements of business engagements), a tendency to embody the picturesque, especially in regard to architecture, arises. We have no hesitation in assigning to this cause the production of some of the most picturesque architectural erections which grace our country,—that render English homes an example, and prove that, while the main element of our national prosperity is making money, we are not insensible to the beneficent influences resulting from the cultivation of refined taste.

It would be interesting as an object of careful inquiry, if there existed sufficient data for the purpose, to trace each of the many steps that have occurred between the birth of architecture and its present condition. The early history of mankind had as its locality climates which favoured the construction and use of the crudest contrivances, intended only to meet the few wants of shelter and occasional domestic privacy. The first condition of man’s existence, either in this primitive or modern state, is that of roving or wandering tribes. Instances of this are found in the early inhabitants of Asia Minor, and adjacent countries, and at the present day the same habit is maintained in Central Asia, Arabia, and many parts of America. As soon as the sustenance afforded for their cattle is consumed in one district a migration is made to another. Gradually, however, centres of trade sprung up where commodities could be bartered for live stock. Men thus became massed together in villages and towns. Quitting a semi-savage condition, they built permanent residences in place of the tent. At first these, like the log-hut of the modern Canadian, were only sufficient for the most common necessities of life. In course of time, however, the spirit of emulation, the growth of riches, and the germination of man’s natural taste for the beautiful, led to artificial wants, which were soon converted into necessities of life. This called out the study of art on the part of the few for the benefit of the many. Systems of art in all its branches gradually developed themselves. By the study of the beauties of nature such systems gradually progressed in purity of style, and produced designs that eventually were appreciated by the common people, in a greater or less degree, according to the capabilities of each individual. Architecture and the other fine arts thus, by slow but sure degrees, began to gain a hold on popular taste, and step by step they arrived at the state of perfection of which we now boast.

It will be evident that whilst the primary objects of architecture were simply those of meeting the immediate necessities of life, its ultimate purpose was only attained when it became an art, cultivated by refined taste, an educated eye, and encouraged by the growth of civilization and commerce. It thus advanced from a state of barbarism into one in which it was connected with all the highest developments of the moral and mental qualities of mankind, but especially with the æsthetic aspirations of our nature.

Incidentally but necessarily connected with the general progress of architecture is the great variety of styles that has been invented. The whole of these are modifications of some one or more primaries. No two individuals acquire the same mental impression by viewing one object; each of their impressions is tinted by the mental characteristics of the individual. It is, therefore, from this cause that so many varieties of style have originated from one first model. An illustration of this is afforded in the Gothic, which in different hands has been greatly divided and modified in its details. This style, which at first was of exclusive application only, has subsequently become most extensively in use for purposes that at first sight it would have been judged as quite unfit for.

The style of architecture just referred to is remarkable for its picturesque character, and may fitly be adduced as an ensample of that quality in the absence of an exact definition of the term.

An able writer criticising Gothic buildings, remarks that the outline of the summit presents a great variety of forms of turrets and pinnacles, some open, some fretted and variously enriched. But even where there is an exact correspondence of parts, it is often disguised by an appearance of splendid confusion and irregularity.

In the doors and windows of Gothic Churches, the pointed arch has as much variety as any regular figure can well have; the eye, too, is less strongly conducted than by the parallel lines in the Grecian style, from the top of one aperture to that of another; and every person must be struck with the extreme richness and intricacy of some of the principal windows of our cathedrals and ruined abbeys. In these last is displayed the triumph of the picturesque, and their charms to a painter’s eye are often so great as to rival those which arise from the chaste ornaments and the noble and elegant simplicity of Grecian architecture.

These remarks will explain to a certain degree the nature of the picturesque in regard to architecture, so far at least as the general principles are involved. But in the more minute points, other questions and relations arise, to which the attention of the reader will be fully drawn in the descriptive text and illustrations of this work.

The comparative value of Grecian and Gothic architecture, as practically adopted in the erection of ornamental dwellings, is well discussed by an eminent architect in the following remarks, slightly modified from the original. He observes that the two are better distinguished by an attention to their general effects, than to the minute parts peculiar to each. It is in architecture as in painting—beauty depends on light and shade, and they are caused by the openings or projections in the surface. If these tend to produce horizontal lines, the building must be deemed Grecian, however whimsically the doors and windows may be constructed. If, on the contrary, the shadows give a preference to perpendicular lines, the general character of the building will be Gothic. This is evident from the large houses built in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, where Grecian columns were introduced. Yet they are always considered as Gothic buildings.

In our modern Grecian architecture large cornices are repeated, with windows ranged perfectly in the same line, and these lines often more strongly marked by a horizontal fascia. There are few breaks of any great depth; and if there be a portico, the shadow made by the columns is very trifling compared with that broad horizontal shadow proceeding from the soffit (that is, the under side of the heads of apertures, architraves, and the corona of cornices). The only ornament its roof will admit, is either a flat pediment departing very little from the horizontal, or a dome still rising from a horizontal base.

But in these remarks attention is chiefly drawn to the general architectural effects of style, independent of concomitant circumstances. Yet it is hardly necessary to do more than call on the experience of any man of taste to show that position, adjacent scenery, and other “accidental” or “incidental” matters will modify the special effect of any style in regard to the picturesque, and also those of a general character. A Gothic erection in a confined situation will lose most of its beauties, while one of a Grecian character may be especially suitable. In choosing, therefore, any design for the erection of a new building, or alterations in one already in existence, respect should be had to the natural character of the surrounding country, the aspects in regard to the sun and prevalent winds, the extent of the estate or grounds on which the building is to be erected, the views from the various apartments, the character of wood, plain, or other adjacent tree-scenery, and last, but of equal or greater importance, questions in reference to domestic comfort and convenience, drainage and dry soil, supply of water, and a variety of details, most of which will at once suggest themselves. In many cases the choice of site is necessarily fixed by previous purchase or inheritance of the land, yet in such cases chances are left for a judicious selection in regard to some of the conditions above mentioned. But when the purchase has to be effected, all the conditions should be kept in mind, and, if possible, completely satisfied. Such details should form the subject of minute inquiry, and they are here only named for the purpose of showing how the choice of the best style, in regard either to general beauty or picturesque effect, should be decided on with mature attention to all the circumstances of the case.

Most of the old mansions, &c., of this country and many parts of Continental Europe, have been erected in situations that were then immediately, and at little cost, available for the purpose. At one time the choice of such situation depended on careful attention to the special circumstances of those who erected the building. Thus it is found, generally, that the banks of the rivers, as affording ready and cheap means of carriage by the stream, were mostly chosen. Hence our abbeys, monasteries, &c., are frequently found in such localities. Baronial castles were usually erected on hills, the height of which tended to the security of the owners against sudden incursions of their foes. From the varied character of English topography has arisen that great variety of picturesque beauty that distinguishes the ruins which abound in almost every county throughout the length and breadth of the land; such ruins, architecturally considered in relation to the surrounding circumstances of wood, vale, hill and dale, have become subjects of study and suggestion to modern architects, and models, constantly adopted at the present time, in certain details, for producing new designs. In the selection of these, or of any other style, however, Burke has laid down, in his essay on “The Sublime and Beautiful,” an excellent rule: “A true artist should put a generous deceit on the spectators, and effect the noblest designs by easy methods. Designs that are vast only by their dimensions, are always the sign of a common and low imagination. The work of art can be great but as it deceives; to be otherwise is the prerogative of nature only.”

It will thus be seen, that to obtain the highest effect of the picturesque in architecture requires an educated eye, a refined taste, great experience, but especially a keen perception of all the conditions, on the fulfilment of which the most successful result can be obtained. In all there is a natural love of unity and effect. Montesquieu, in his dissertation on Taste, observes: “Wherever symmetry is useful to the soul, and may assist her functions, it is agreeable to her; but wherever it is useless, it becomes distasteful, because it takes away variety. Therefore things that are seen in succession ought to have variety, for our soul has no difficulty in seeing them; those on the contrary, that we see at one glance, ought to have symmetry. Thus at one glance we see the front of a building, a parterre, a temple. In such things there is always a symmetry which pleases the soul by the facility it gives her of taking in the whole object at once.”

The numerous dissertations, essays, &c., that have been produced on the subjects that have here been treated on in a discursive manner only, are a sufficient proof of the difficulty which exists in acquiring, applying, and affording an accurate and ample description of all the conditions necessary to picturesque architecture; they also in some measure explain the reason of the grotesque, and even offensive results that obtrude on refined taste in the productions of builders who are utterly deficient of artistic taste and knowledge in carrying out their objects. A general, and in part a historic view of architecture may serve to show how success has been attained in many cases, and the evils that should be avoided as leading to failure in effect of the general and special features of an erection.

In the cursory view of the history of architecture already given, it has been shown that the earliest efforts of the art were simply directed to satisfy the simple wants of man, without any regard being had to taste. It was not until riches began to accumulate in a few hands that taste in architecture was developed, and by the few examples thus produced the taste of society at large was educed, refined, and extended.

Omitting then any inquiry into the architecture of our earth’s aborigines, which was evidently of the rudest character, reference may first be made to early architectural attempts in Asia. It has been ingeniously observed by M. Pair, that the Chinese imitated a tent as the model of their system, a result that undoubtedly arose from the fact that the first Tartar tribes were nomadic or wandering in their nature. It has also been remarked that a bird’s-eye view of a Chinese city at once suggests the idea of a fixed camp. In southern and south-western Asia may be found, on the other hand, the remains of extensive architectural productions in caves, such as that of the Pagoda Elephanta, from which many have argued that subterraneous dwellings were amongst the earliest; but it is evident that such could only be made in places where stone existed in masses, as a basis of the country. In a plain and sandy district, and in alluvial soil generally, such could not possibly have been produced. There is not the least doubt that the conditions of climate have in all cases determined the early character of each national system. In both hot and cold countries caves would naturally have been sought as affording shelter from the two extremes of heat and cold. Recent geological discoveries have brought to light the fact that the remains of human and quadruped bones have been found together in such situations, the human inhabitants having most probably been the predecessors of the beasts of prey, as also of the fowls of the air. It has been suggested too that the forest tree having formerly served for shelter, might have suggested the floral character of columns, and the use of floral decoration generally at their summit.

In respect to these “natural” and consequently primitive “systems” of architecture, Billington has made the following judicious remarks:—“Those people or nations who lived by the chase (and in the same class the Ichthyophagi, or fish-eaters, are included) could not for a great length of time have built themselves shelters. The long courses the hunters made prevented them from watching their property, which must have comprised [but] few articles; and they found it more convenient to make hollows in the rocks for their dwellings, or to profit by those which nature offered them in its caverns. It was the same with those who lived by fishing; passing a sedentary life on the sea shores, the sides of rivers, or the borders of the lakes, they always made themselves such abodes, or took advantage of those already formed by nature. The little industry which this mode of life required, and the natural idleness which followed it, was sufficient to induce them to prefer the dwellings presented by nature, to those of art. This fact is proved by experience at the present day, as these descriptions of persons continue to adopt the same plan of life in countries where the arts of civilization have not extended their beneficial influence. The pastors or shepherds, as they were inhabitants of plains during a great portion of the year, could not make use of the retreats hollowed and prepared in the mountains and rocks by the hand of nature; being obliged to seek change of pasture, and thus lead an ambulatory life, it was requisite to have dwellings or shelters that could be carried with them wherever they went, and hence originated the use of tents. But the active operations of agriculture requiring a definite situation, necessity suggested the propriety of building solid and fixed abodes. The agriculturist then, living on his own grounds, and in the enjoyment of his property, had to store his provisions; it was therefore necessary to have a habitation at once commodious, safe, healthful, and extensive; and the wood hut with its roof was soon erected.”

The same author considers that there is not the least certainty of this primitive wooden construction, with its inclined roof, having been the universal model of all nations, but especially in regard to Egypt and China. The peculiarities of the early Chinese style of architecture have been already named, and with the persistent continuity in one course yet prevalent, that style is still preserved. But the Grecian style was evidently founded on the rude model, and the ingenuity of that nation eventually led to the transference of material from wood to stone.

At the present day the Orders of Grecian architecture are fundamental to the principles of modern art in numerous varieties of detail; they have survived the prejudices, fancies, and dicta of various schools of art, although, as already shown, the Gothic and other systems have become formidable competitors, and in many cases, especially in regard to the picturesque, efficient, elegant, and ornamental substitutes. The taste for the latter characteristic has led to an increased adoption, for example, of the Italian style, which in many respects resembles the Grecian, but differs from it especially in lightness of detail, with greater variety. The author just quoted traces the origin of the Doric Order of the Greeks to a primary adaptation of the trunks of trees as external supports of the wooden dwelling, seeing in them the foreshadowing of the column designative of that order. “As trees are of greater circumference at their lower extremities, and diminish in rising, the diminution of the column was suggested by them.... These timbers (as supports) consisting of trunks of trees planted in the ground, offered not as yet the idea of bases and pedestals, as is seen in the Doric Order, which is without base. But in the course of time the inconvenience of this method was perceived, as it exposed the wood to rot, and to remedy this inconvenience pieces of wood were placed under each support to give it a better foundation, and to protect it from humidity. This practice may be traced in some of the ancient edifices in which the columns have no other base than a block of stone. But afterwards, the number of pieces of wood employed for the base was increased, in order to give greater elevation to the supports, or to effect better security against the effects of humidity. From this multiplication of blocks as footings, sprung the torus and other mouldings of the base, an origin far more probable than that of ligaments of iron, as imagined by Scamozzi and others. It is also more conformable to the nature of capitals, in which it is known that the same proceeding was employed. After beginning with a simple abacus, several others were afterwards added, which were enlarged, as they rose, one above another, in such a manner that as the base was to the column a kind of footing on which it rested more solidly, so the capital made a head more capable of receiving and supporting the weight and form of the architrave, a large beam placed horizontally on perpendicular supports, and destined to receive the covering of the whole edifice.”

The author goes on, in a similarly ingenious manner, to prove the derivation, from nature, of the Orders of Grecian architecture. He ascribes the form of the roof as having necessarily suggested that of the pediment. On this point he quotes the remark of Cicero: “It is not to pleasure that we are indebted for the pediment of the Capitol and those of our temples: necessity suggested the form for the better draining off the water; nevertheless, its beauty is so very great, and it is become so necessary for edifices, that if a Capitol were to be built in Olympus, where it was never known to rain, it would, notwithstanding, be necessary to give it a pediment.”

The preceding remarks and ingenious theory amply justify the opinion already suggested, that nature must be the foundation of every true principle of art. Assuming, as we are compelled to do, that the Grecian style as a whole was original, the only perfect model that could have been selected was that afforded by natural objects, in all of which are found the most perfect results, derived from few means but answering an infinity of ends. It will be remembered that the construction of the Eddystone lighthouse was based in regard to durability, and resistance to the force of the waves, on those properties which are possessed by any kind of tree exposed to the full force of the tempest. “Nature ought to be the basis of all imitation.”

Proceeding from the teachings of nature, the Greeks learned gradually to introduce new types, consistent in the main with the original mode, but of great variety in detail. By further refinement of this, but close adherence to the facts or the analogies of nature, the Grecian art became developed in the invention of other Orders, the names of which are sufficiently known to all interested in architecture. Limited space prevents our entering into a class of analyses of the characteristics of each. Little doubt exists of the Doric Order having been the first produced, and following it were the Ionic, Corinthian, Composite, and Tuscan, which constitute the five Orders in general of architecture.

Perhaps the best epoch of ancient architecture was that during which, subsequent to the battle of Marathon, the Greeks commenced to rebuild the remains of Persian buildings, and to re-construct Athens. The ruins of this period yet with us, attest the advance which Grecian architectural art had attained. The ingenuity and refinement of Greek art gradually spread to Rome, the Romans adopting the Doric Order under the modification known as the Tuscan. The art having been introduced into Etruria by the Pelasgi, under the celebrated Augustus, Rome attained that magnificence which has ever since rendered its name famous as a seat of the arts. Amongst the great erections of this period was the Pantheon, one of the grandest efforts of genius that the world has yet known. Under subsequent emperors architecture also progressed, and the name of Trajan is identified with the erection of triumphal arches, &c., the ruins of which still receive the admiration of every qualified judge in art.

The removal of the seat of Roman government to Byzantium led to the decadence of art at Rome, which was completed by the incursions of the Visigoths. Eventually the Gothic style arose, phœnix-like, from the ruins of Grecian and Roman art, and obtained a place that has rendered it ever since one of the most favourite styles of architecture.

Just as under the heathens, the art had been chiefly promoted by erections for religious purposes, so when the Christians began to obtain the ascendancy, the erection of churches led to a similar result. From the fourth to the seventh century some magnificent buildings of this kind were erected. At the commencement of the eleventh century the church of St. Mark at Venice attested the wonderful progress which architecture had made, and it continued to progress during the next two or three centuries, being confined chiefly, however, to Italy. But the Gothic style, suited to a northern clime, never obtained full hold there; Italy cannot boast of a single pure Gothic edifice. Gradually the new style spread over Europe. The Cathedral at Strasbourg, the Louvre at Paris, suggested improvements in our own country at Windsor Castle, Oxford, &c., all indicated the rapid extension of the Gothic style or its modifications. But in numerous instances the taste that was exhibited showed a decadence from the simplicity and grandeur of the Grecian and Latin styles. In respect to the latter, indeed, the materials of the new erections were obtained from the ruins of the ancient edifices, the columns, &c. there found, being pressed into the service, in any manner, of the new school of architects.

Towards the middle of the fifteenth century a revival in architectural art took place, especially under Brunelleschi. The patronage of the Medici added a stimulus to the progress thus initiated. Improvements were introduced in the erection of private residences in most parts of Western Europe, the art having in its best form been chiefly till then directed to building edifices for religious purposes alone. In the sixteenth century architecture in Rome attained a perfection nearly equal to that it had formerly enjoyed under the Cæsars, especially during the Augustan age. Private and public buildings were erected of great magnificence, yet of simplicity of form combined with grandeur. Under Vignola architecture attained great excellence. Michael Angelo was appointed architect of St. Peter’s at Rome about the middle of the sixteenth century, and the mention of his name alone is sufficient to call to mind the extent and value of his labours in the art. In the seventeenth century, about the year 1620, Inigo Jones was engaged in repairing St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, and subsequently produced designs for the Royal Palace at Whitehall in the reign of Charles I. Greenwich and Chelsea Hospitals, and other noted buildings, were designed about this period. In France and other continental countries architecture attained great perfection at this period, both in respect to public and private buildings. Among the most eminent architects of a period somewhat nearer to our own time, was Sir Christopher Wren, whose St. Paul’s Cathedral serves as a monument to the great genius of that eminent man. This era may, comparatively speaking, be considered as the commencement of the modern style of English church architecture, inasmuch as several productions of Wren are still used for the purposes to which they were first applied, having undergone little or no change since their completion.

Such is a brief, and necessarily very imperfect resumé of the progress of architecture. The styles of Eastern Europe, ancient Mexico, and many others, have not been described, because unnecessary, in this Introduction, which has only for its object to call general attention to the causes which have led to the present state of the art. Like all others it has been the subject of alternating prosperity and adversity. At one time fostered by men eminent in their profession, and by those whose means permitted them to lavish riches on magnificent piles, fountains, villas, &c.; and at others, degraded by its students, and neglected by those who should have been its patrons.

In all branches of architecture direct reference should be had to the objects for which the building is intended. An eminent architect, already quoted, has well set forth this essential point in the following remarks:—“The art of characterizing, that is to say, of rendering evident by material forms the intellectual qualities and moral ideas required to express in edifices, or to make known by the harmony and suitableness of all the constituent parts that enter into their composition the use for which they are intended, is perhaps of all the secrets of architecture the most difficult to develope or to attain. This happy talent of conceiving and of communicating the conception in the physiognomy suitable to each edifice; this sure and delicate discernment, which exhibits the distinguishing parts of such edifices, that at first appear susceptible of no characteristic distinctions; this judicious employment of the different styles which are as the tones of architecture; this skilful application of the signs which the art employs to affect the sight and understanding; this exquisite feeling, which errs neither in the just disposition of the masses and employment of the details, nor in the just dispensation of richness and simplicity, and which is able to combine true expression of character with the harmonious accord of all the qualities susceptible of being represented by architecture—all this requisite talent, which study perfects, but does not produce, is a gift possessed by few. This suitable expression presents itself under two relations, the one appertaining to architecture in general, and the other to edifices in particular. The first consists in the expression of the qualities or intellectual ideas which are the results of the art metaphysically considered; the second, in the true indication of the uses for which edifices are designed, that is, in considering architecture as a certain mode of expressing or painting. This expression, according to the nature of the buildings and edifices, may be produced by the gradation of richness and greatness proportionate to the nature and the object for which they are erected; by the indication of the moral qualities attached to each edifice, the manner of expressing which is beyond the reach of rules; by the general and particular form of architecture; by the species of the construction and the quality of the materials that may be employed in the execution; and lastly, by the resources of decoration.” In these remarks will be found a highly valuable précis of the excellence to which the art of the architect should be directed, and the means that must be adopted to obtain pleasing and successful results.

The erection of country mansions, villas, and other residences, has of late years been greatly stimulated in our country. The enormous annually accumulated savings of the commercial portion of the community have induced a large amount of capital to be invested in such objects. In regard to questions of taste and decoration, it should be borne in mind that but very little extra cost is incurred in building a residence in a pleasing and picturesque style than in one having not the least pretension to architectural beauty. In our earlier remarks on the nature of the picturesque the general principles of obtaining that effect have been pointed out. In the following pages the special details are amply descanted on, and illustrated by designs, drawings, &c. It is the object of every department of constructive skill at the present day, to endeavour to obtain the best possible result by the least possible expenditure of material, and thus taste actually causes economy rather than increased expense. Tons of heavy and unsightly materials are now replaced by hundredweights of decorative, and yet substantial, masonry and iron work. A number of modern elegant erections, affording accommodation equal in extent, but vastly superior in quality, are now made at an expenditure of stone or brick less by one-third in quantity than was employed in many old houses; those in High Street, Edinburgh, by way of example. The result has been arrived at by the joint aid of science and art, the former giving data as to the strength of the material, and the latter directing its disposal. The peculiar character of English scenery is exactly adapted for giving a picturesque character to villa residences, provided the latter are designed and erected in accordance with the principles of sound taste. Surely he who would spend money in building a house, in which all or most of the remainder of his days are to be spent, will not grudge making that dwelling the subject of decoration or ornamental art, by which its aspect shall at all times be suggestive of pleasure rather than of aversion or disgust. It has been said that most individuals, by long association together, acquire a mutuality of tastes and even physical resemblance. It cannot be denied that even inanimate objects, such as our dwellings, furniture, landscapes, gardens, and other such surroundings, have a parallel effect on us. Hence the wisdom of using all the means which architectural art places at our disposal. Errors in this respect often proceed from thoughtlessness, if not from want of refined taste. An instance may suffice to show how much such matters should be attended to in the choice of a site and other conditions. A retired manufacturer erected a mansion at a cost exceeding fifty thousand pounds, and had never paid any heed to the fact that the most prominent object seen from his dining-room window was the cemetery of the adjacent town! Soon this became unbearable, and the house has been comparatively deserted by the family, caused by an oversight that the least consideration would have remedied.

The designs given in the following pages have for their object to suggest the most approved, tasteful, and effective plans for the mansion, the villa, or cottage, and great care has been devoted to their production. Whilst a residence must necessarily be kept within a cost suitable to the means of the proprietor, by judicious care of the professional man, possessed of a competent knowledge, a little money may go a long way in the decorative art. Many of the drawings are devoted to the minor but not less effective portions of the house. Congruity in detail inside the dwelling is equally required with symmetry, beauty, or picturesque character of the exterior. Want of judgment in this point may speedily convert the most elegant building into little better than a repository for gewgaws selected without taste and arranged without skill. It is impossible for every man to become his own architect; but it is possible, in most cases, for all who have the means, to select such a design as shall best comport with their taste, leaving the working out of details to the architect. But a remote possibility exists of an unprofessional being able even to state what he requires, and should he ask an architect for a design or plan, it is more than likely that the latter would fail to please. When, however, a variety of designs is placed before the eye of any intelligent person the act of selection becomes easy. Although no single plan may succeed, a combination may suggest itself, and the architect can then readily work on something like a sound foundation, and with the hope of success. This work is intended to supply such requirements.

Again, in building a house, or in effecting alterations in an old one, points apparently of minor, but really of great importance, require attention. A badly constructed chimney will make the whole house miserable, independent of the injury done to furniture, decorations, &c., and the destruction of paint and paperhangings. A defective drainage may render that which was intended to be an abode of peace, plenty, and happiness, a living charnel-house, or the door to the grave! A question of vital importance is that of ventilation. These apparently minor questions can therefore scarcely be exaggerated in their value, for neglect of them will render nugatory the best external efforts of the architect. Hence they have hereafter full attention, in their practical details, directed to them.

On the general principles of ventilation the following remarks may be of value to all who propose to erect new dwellings, or alter those already inhabited. In all houses, and in fact every building divided into stories, a ready means of ventilation may be insured, or rather always exists. This is presented in the opening formed by the staircase. Into this general opening communications can be made into, and from, each apartment by apertures placed in some convenient position in each room. The grand law on which ventilation depends is, that hot air, being lighter than cool air, has a universal tendency to rise, whilst cold air takes the lowest part of a house or apartment. It hence follows, that if a supply of cold air be admitted by an opening at the lower part of a house, and it becomes heated within the house, it will have a tendency to rise to the roof; and if a sufficient opening be there provided, it will escape into the open air. Consequently a constant current may thus be obtained in any dwelling, sufficient to give a supply of pure air and to remove that which has been vitiated by breathing, the combustion of fires, and other causes. The heavy atmosphere of this country requires assistance to make this grand law operative; to cause the air of a room to move as readily as it is required, forced ventilation becomes necessary. The English fireplace provides this; and to that it owes, with us, its extreme popularity. A constant current of air from the room is heated and passed up the chimney flue, and this draws in a corresponding supply of cold air, and proper and convenient apertures should be left to permit this to enter. The fireplace forces attention to the necessity; if sufficient fresh air be not provided for it the smoke enters the room and drives the occupants out. Notwithstanding the attention that has been paid to the stove and its flue, we are still sadly behindhand in a proper construction of them. The flues could be so arranged that a building might be enabled, using a figurative expression, to breathe, whenever its principal flue, that of the kitchen fireplace, was in action; a construction to effect this will be illustrated in the text. In conclusion on this point, it may be added that nothing is more essential to the health and comfort of a house than that it should be thoroughly and constantly ventilated, and if any portion is to be particularized, it should be the sleeping apartments.

Another question which, to a certain extent, should influence the arrangement of a house of any pretensions in respect to size, is that of the method of warming it. The preference, or rather prejudice, in favour of fireplaces is so great, that a revolution of the nation in political matters could be more easily brought about than the abolition of the fire-grate; but it is well known that at least three-fourths of the coal consumed is wasted in the attempt to heat the room to an equable and pleasant temperature. But by such means the result cannot be arrived at. In front of, and close to the fire, the temperature is excessive, while the backs of the sitters facing in are suffering from cold. An equalized temperature in rooms is obtained abroad. In Russia, a plan is adopted of heating the rooms by means of the walls, the latter being double, and so arranged that they act as flues to a furnace situated at the lower part of the building. By this method every part of the room acquires, simultaneously, an equable temperature. There need be no draught, simply because the air is not drawn in one direction more than in another. From every side a gentle current of warm air arises. This method cannot be adopted here; it would not suit for English houses where coal is used as fuel: the interstices of the double wall would soon be filled with soot. The same effect is produced in a far more elegant way, by means of warm-water pipes passed round the room; by this simple process the staircase and passages and the sides of a room distant from the fireplace are made of equal temperature—one, or at most two furnaces, burning coke and making no smoke, if placed in a cellar outside an extensive building, can render the whole interior, from attic to ground-floor of equal temperature, and not prevent the action of the fireplace, or its agreeable presence in our homes. In the British Museum, where warming apparatus is used, the temperature of the whole is kept uniformly the same, that is, 65° Fah., even throughout the most severe weather, independent of the common fireplace. No greater change is required in any part of our buildings than in the latter; not that it requires to be removed, but a change to prevent its waste of heat and its contaminating the outside air with the soot and blacks from its coal fuel; the lower fireplaces in a building should warm or air the upper rooms, and no soot or blacks should be allowed to leave the flues. A construction for this purpose will be shown in the ensuing pages, as well as one for warming an entire building and a conservatory.

An opposite effect to that of warming is frequently desirable in our houses; and to ensure this the position of the site of the house must be considered. It is evident that a room having a south-western aspect must of all others be the warmest, whether in winter or summer, simply because that aspect is most exposed to the influence of the sun’s rays. On the other hand, rooms having a north-easterly aspect must necessarily be the coolest, because, except during the earliest part of midsummer mornings, say from 2 to 4 A.M., the sun’s rays cannot reach them. It is, therefore, in the power of those who have the requisite resources, to construct a house in such a manner that warm rooms can be provided for winter use, and cool for alleviating the heat of summer. It is by no means an uncommon occurrence to find a large dinner-party assembled in the heat of summer in a room that has been exposed to the sun’s rays during the afternoon. Frequently in such cases, owing to the number of persons present, the heat of the viands, lights, &c., the temperature rises above 80°, a circumstance prejudicial to health, enjoyment, and the vivacity of social intercourse, that might have been entirely avoided had the dining-room been placed in a northern aspect. These are points well worthy of attention in constructing a newly-designed dwelling. It unfortunately happens, in many cases, that the supposed exigencies of architectural arrangement must have priority of all other considerations. Yet the architect who wilfully opposes such modifications of his plan for the purpose of conducing to general comfort is shortsighted. His object ought to be to build a house to be lived in, and not to be looked at alone.

A few remarks on some of the general principles that should lead to a choice of site, situation, and other matters, may not be without advantage. Whatever inducement a plot of ground for building purposes may possess, the great question which has first to be solved is that of health. A clayey soil, bog, marsh, or stagnant water; a low level; an undrained or badly drained surface; a moist atmosphere, or exposure to the chill north and east winds, are all objections that a question of price should never be pitted against. Popular knowledge on sanitary subjects is now so extensively diffused that healthy localities are always of ready sale, while those of an opposite character are frequently unsold in the market, and consequently may be had at a low price, but are really never cheap. Nothing can counterbalance the value of a healthy locality, for in the end one of an opposite character becomes far more costly. The timbers of the building fall rapidly into decay, and require renewal; the decorative portion, internally and externally, becomes faded; doors and windows cease to fit and work accurately; the iron work becomes rusted and requires frequent renewal of paint or other protecting coat; and the same may be remarked in regard to the fences of the estate.

The position of the residence in regard to the sun at different periods of the year is also an important matter. If it stands with each front north and south, the north front will have comparatively little sun, except during summer time; and if the position be north-east and south-west respectively, the cold bitter winds of winter will be severely felt, whilst from the fact that the greater portion of the year the rainy quarter of the wind is south-west, that front or back of the house will be continually exposed to its influence. Consequently, frontages to the south-east and north-west are to be preferred in all cases, when possible, as such position ensures to both sides the greatest average of sun, heat, and light, and protection from the north-east wind of winter or the south-west of the rainy season. Comparatively little attention has been paid to the influence of light on health and its effects on the mind, in the construction of modern dwelling-houses. An excess is easily avoided by blinds and other contrivances; but if the architectural features of the building be such as to exclude the light, an opposite remedy is impossible. Abundant access of light tends to set off all the internal decorations of the house, and spreads a cheerfulness of appearance that is always highly prized. It gives brilliancy of outline and detail to coloured decorations, and, to use a common phrase, is the best possible “set-off” that the architect or decorator can desire. As already pointed out, the effect of light and shade, in regard to architecture, is a condition of success in respect to the picturesque.

It is always desirable that a house should be placed on an eminence; it becomes thus a prominent object, and its qualities are the more readily perceived. A gradual ascent to the house by the walks or drive adds much to the general effect. The walks are thus constantly drained, and preserve longer a neat appearance, a matter which is of much importance in setting off the advantages of situation, site, &c. In respect to questions of health also, this is of great advantage, as the waste matter of the household more readily falls away by its own gravity, and is thus quickly removed; which if left stagnant would be productive of harm to the inmates.

Abundant access of fresh air is of great importance to health in a residence; unnecessary exposure to wind being at the same time to be avoided. Hence to place a residence in the centre of a close array of trees is not desirable; not only is the access of air, light, and heat prevented, but there is always a tendency induced to dampness in the house. In an open, airy, and well drained situation, the effects of even long-continued wet are soon dispelled, but when all sides of a house are surrounded closely by trees, an opposite result is induced, and, in comparatively dry situations, many evils of a damp one ultimately ensue.

One of our earliest English writers on building, Thomas Fuller (1633), speaking of the choice of situation for a new structure, says: “Chiefly choose a wholesome air, for air is a dish one feeds on every minute, and therefore it need be good. Wherefore, great men (who may build where they please, as poor men where they can) if herein they prefer their profit above their health, I refer them to their physicians to make them pay for it accordingly.” And as to light, he continues: “Light (God’s eldest daughter!) is a principal beauty in a building, yet it shines not alike from all parts of heaven. An east window welcomes the infant beams of the sun before they are of strength to do any harm, and is offensive to none but a sluggard. A south window, in summer, is a chimney with a fire in it, and needs the screen of a curtain. In a west window, in summer time, towards night, the sun grows low and ever familiar, with more light than delight. A north window is best for butteries and cellars, where the beer will not be sour for the sun’s smiling on it. Thorough lights are best for rooms of entertainment, and windows on one side for dormitories.” And he tells us, “a pleasant prospect is to be respected. A medley view, such as of water and land at Greenwich, best entertains the eyes, refreshing the wearied beholder with exchange of objects. Yet,” he adds, “I know a more profitable prospect—where the owner can only see his own land round about.”

Having thus disposed of some of the most important points that should be kept in mind when choosing the site of a house, and of such other conditions as affect its picturesque and sanitary character, a small space may be devoted to the consideration of its internal decorations.