S. J. Parkhill & Co. Printers
Boston Mass.

[Pg iii]

Index to Volume XXVII.

January-March, 1890.

A B C
D E F
G H I
J K L
M N O
P Q R
S T U
V W Y
Z

ILLUSTRATIONS
ILLUSTRATIONS—INTERNATIONAL EDITION
TEXT CUTS
INDEX BY LOCATION

Abattoirs, 128
Aberbrothwick. The Abbey of, 13
Aboriginal Races of America. The, 151
Accidents:—
Fall of a Hotel in Sydney, N.S.W., 184
“ “ “ Scaffold, 104
“ “ St. Louis Academy of Music, 66
“ “ the Roof of the Flora Hall, Hamburg, 196
Agreement between Architect and Client, 30
Albany Capitol. Defective Gutters on the, 97
Aluminium from Bauxite, 194
Alva. Statue of the Duke of, 74
America. The Aboriginal Races of, 151
American Architect Travelling-Scholarship Design for a New White House. The, 158
American Bricks, 77
A.I.A. Convention. The, 79
“ Illinois Chapter of, 182
“ Philadelphia Chapter, 46
“ St. Louis Chapter, 206
“ Washington Chapter, 43
Amsterdam. High-level Bridge for, 47
Ancient Architecture, 19, 35, 51
André, Architect. Death of Jules, 145
“ The Career of M. Jules, 162
“Angelus.” Millet’s, 12
Apartment-house. The, 3
Archæological:—
Burial Mounds, 99, 151
Cleopatra’s Tomb, 141
Delphi. The Proposed Excavations at, 65
Dighton Rock. The, 93
Hissarlik Controversy. The, 144
History of Habitation. The, 149, 168
Locrian Town. The Site of a, 16
Maya. Temples of Ancient, 204
Mesopotamia. Explorations in, 160
Obelisk. Protecting the New York, 178, 207
Persian Court Art, 16
Rome. Discovery of an Ancient Viaduct in, 80
St. Emilion. The Monolithic Church of, 16
Scandinavia. Discoveries in, 63
Uxmal, 204
Vikings. The Art of the, 37, 53
Yucatan. Ancient Temples in, 204
“ Exploring Expedition. A New, 112
“ Ruins and Works of Art in, 58
Arches. Concrete, 1
Architect:—
New York State. The, 206
Architects:—
Annoyances of. The, 194
Chimney-flues and, 146
Dismissal of. The Right of, 158
Examinations and Diplomas, 162
in Canada. The Registration of, 183
“ Spanish America, 18
Incomes of. The, 1, 47, 127
Libel-suit Between. A, 206
New South Wales Institute of. Quarrel in the, 183
of Mons Cathedral. The, 114
Office. A Chicago, 50
Ontario Association of, 41
Philadelphia Master-Builders and the, 161
Reputation of. The Influence of Architectural Journals on the, 17
Responsibility of. The, 2, 130
Stray Thoughts for Young, 90
Suit against a Railroad. An, 194
Architectural:—
Club. Boston, 95
Drawings at the League Exhibition, 40, 57, 143
“ Philadelphia Exhibitions of, 107, 146
Education at Munich, 181
“ in France, 162
Exhibition at the Pennsylvania Academy, 107
Journals on the Reputation of Architects. The Influence of, 17
League Exhibition. The, 40, 57, 143
Prints. Arranging, 207
Shades and Shadows, 56
Styles. Changes of, 108
Water-color Drawings, 107
Architecture:—
Ancient, 19, 35, 51
at Evanston, Ill., 118
Civil and Domestic, 19, 35, 51, 67, 83
Decoration and, 6
Funerary, 99, 115, 131, 147, 163
History of. The, 150
in Baltimore, 187
“ Brooklyn, 5
of the Brooklyn Institute. Department of, 206
Military, 179, 195
Sculpture and, 7
Spanish. Sir Frederick Leighton on a Device of, 146
Study of. The, 6
Army Engineer and our Public Buildings. The, 143
Arranging Architectural Prints, 207
Art Museum. The Cost of a Small, 23
“ of the Vikings. The, 37, 53
“ The Tariff on Works of, 18
Artificial-ice Skating-rink. An, 145
Artists. Quarrel among French, 80
Asphalt Paving, 82
Assyrian Architecture, 20
“ Fortifications, 179
“ Tombs, 116, 144
Australia. Engineering Triumphs in, 106
“ Letters from, 106, 183
“ Roman Catholic Buildings in, 107
Automatic Sprinklers in Mills, 177

Baltimore:—
Architecture in, 187
Building-permits in, 97
Letters from, 187
Pennsylvania Steel Company’s Works near. The, 188
Railway. The proposed “Belt Line,” 188
Balveny Castle, Scotland, 61
Barye Exhibition. The, 10
Barye’s English Admirer, 15
Bauxite. Aluminium from, 194
Belgian Prizes and Honors, 34
Belle Isle Dam. The Straits of, 48
Belt Line Railway for Baltimore. A, 188
Berlin Industrial Museum Exhibition, 174
“ Technical College. The, 140
Beryt or Fluid Marble, 160
Bids. The Right of Revising, 194
“Black-lining”? What is, 65
Books on School-houses, 207
Borrowing Suburban Fire-Engines, 18, 146
Boston:—
Architectural Club, 95
Building Laws. The, 109
Fires. Water Used in, 79
Letter from, 190
Lock-out in the Freestone-Cutting Trade, 161, 177
Manufacturers Mutual Fire Insurance Company. Annual Report of, 177
Museum of Fine Arts. The, 175, 190
Society of Architects, 14
Walking-delegate’s Power. A, 193
Botticher vs. Dr. Schliemann. Dr., 144
Bourse du Commerce, Paris. The New, 185
Brentano, Architect. Death of Signor, 130
Brick. Cheap Unbaked Colored, 176
Bricks. American, 77
Bridge at London. The Tower, 192
“ for Amsterdam. High-level, 47
“ Testing the Forth, 160
“ The Hawkesbury Railway, 106
Bridges in China. Ancient, 96
British Museum. Electric-Light at the, 104
Brooklyn. Architecture in, 5
“ Institute. Department of Architecture of the, 206
Bronze Gates for Cologne Cathedral, 135
Brunswick Monument at Geneva. The, 18
Buenos Ayres, 18
Builders. Convention of National Association of Master, 34, 81
Building:—
Committee. A Competitor’s Suit against a, 104
Contracts. German, 82
Laws. The Boston, 109
Permits in Baltimore, 97
Safe, 121, 135, 197
Stones. Decay of, 98
Swedish Penalties for Bad, 72
Syndicate. Proposed, 81
Trades. Troubles in the, 193
Bull-fights in Paris, 130
Bull-ring for Paris. Proposed, 50
Bureau of Ethnology’s Fifth Annual Report. The, 151
Burial-mounds, 99, 151
Building and the Underwriters. Safe, 49, 97
Burmese Temples. Jewels in, 58
Burnham & Root’s Office, 50
Byzantine Architecture, 52

Canada. Letters from, 41, 104, 182
“ Proposed Public Buildings in, 104
“ The History of Education in, 183
“ The Registration of Architects in, 183
Cast-iron and its Treatment for Artistic Purposes, 201
“ Pavements, 192
Castle Campbell, Scotland, 127
“ of St. Angelo, Rome. The, 208
“ Vincigliata, Italy. The, 62
Casts at the Boston Art Museum, 190
Catacombs, 147
Cathedral. Bronze Gates for Cologne, 135
“ Drawings at the League Exhibition, 30, 62
“ of Mons. The, 114
“ St. Machar. The, 27
“ Strasbourg, 153
“ The Completion of Milan, 130
“ Towers, 92, 102
Cathedrals. Clearing away Buildings around, 162
Cats. Egyptian Mummy, 208
Cawdor Castle, Scotland, 110
Celtic Tumuli, 99
Cement. Palming off Poor, 113
Cemented Surfaces. Painting on, 146
Cemeteries. Mediæval, 164
Cemetery Vaults, 47
Centennial Hall, Sydney, N.S.W., 184
Charges. A Question of, 207
Chicago:—
Letters from, 118, 182
Suburban Building in. Rapid Transit and, 182
World’s Fair. The, 177, 182
Chimney. A Tall, 16
“ flues. Architects and, 146
China. Ancient Bridges in, 96
Chinese Architecture, 19
Christians. The Primitive, 147
Church-restoring by Lottery, 128
“ Towers, 91, 92, 102
Churches. The Picturesque Lighting of, 146
Cippi, 134
Circular Annoyance. The, 194
“City of the Gods,” Mexico. The, 172
Civil and Domestic Architecture, 19, 35, 51, 67, 83
Clark, Architect. Death of George, 63
Cleopatra’s Tomb, 141
Clerk-of-works Question. The, 79, 111, 159
Cohesive Construction, 123
Cologne Cathedral. Bronze Gates for, 135
“ “ Clearing away Buildings around, 162
Color Changes in New York Buildings, 108
Colored Brick. Cheap unbaked, 176
Columbaria, 134
Columns. Ventilating Wooden, 31
Commission on a Standing Party-wall, 142
Commissioner of the Albany Capital The, 206
Commissions. The Question of, 31, 159
Compensation. A Question of, 207
Competitions:—
Drawings, 40, 62, 65
[Pg iv]
Grant Monument. The, 145
Hartford Railroad Station. The, 194
Montreal Insane Asylum, 104
New York Episcopal Cathedral, 40, 62
Quebec City-hall. The, 63
Sheffield Municipal Buildings. The, 33
Competitor’s Suit against a Building-committee. A, 104
Composite Metal. A New, 93
Concentrated Residence in various Countries, 88, 119
Concrete Arches, 1
“Concrete.” Laying a Foundation of Dry, 113
Concrete. Wrong Methods of Mixing, 114
Condé. Fremiet’s Figure of, 76
Congressional Palace. The Mexican, 96
Construction. Cohesive, 123
“ German, 155
“ Improvements in Mill, 177
“ Slow-burning, 29, 97
Contract. The Lowell City-hall, 194
“ “Standard Form” of, 81
“ taking Labor Syndicates, 194
Contracting Syndicate. Proposed, 81
Contractors. Great, 95
Contractor’s Profit-sharing. A, 2, 43
Contracts. German Building, 82
“ Importance of Written, 65
Convention of National Association of Master-Builders, 34, 81
Copan in Yucatan. The Ruins of, 59
Copper-rolling. Remarkable, 80
Corrections, 79
Cotman. John Sell, 174
Count and his Machine. A Mysterious, 112
County Council. The London, 104
Coverings for Steam-pipes, 22, 157
Craigievar Castle, Scotland, 189

Dalmeny Church, Scotland, 189
Dam. The Straits of Belle Isle, 48
Dangers of Electricity. The, 15, 27
Dead. The Disposition of the, 24
Deaths from Electricity, 15, 27
Decay of Building Stones. The, 98
Decoration and Architecture, 6
Decorative Paintings in the new Bourse du Commerce, Paris. The, 185
Delphi. The Proposed Excavations at, 65
Dessication of the Dead, 25
Dighton Rock. The, 93
Directory. A Lamp-post, 98
Dismissal of an Architect. The Right of, 158
Divining-rod. The, 15
Domes. Spires, Towers and, 91, 101
Domestic Architecture. Civil and, 19, 35, 51, 67, 83
Doors. Fire, 156
Drawing Instruments. A Yale Professor’s Trouble through Prescribing, 66
Drawings at Architectural League Exhibition, 40, 57, 143
“ “ Philadelphia. Exhibition of Architectural, 107, 146
“ “Black-lining” Competition, 65
Durand, Architect. Death of George F., 1
Duty on Window-glass. The, 31

Earnings of Architects. The, 1
East River Tunnel. The Proposed, 178
Education in Canada. The History of, 183
Effigies. Funeral, 164
Egyptian Architecture, 20
“ Fortifications. Ancient, 179
“ Tombs, 99, 115
Eight-hour Movement. The, 1, 93, 194
Electric:—
Light at the British Museum, 104
Lights and Motors, 79
Railways, 64, 111, 128
Reading light for Railways, 50
Welding, 176
Wire. The Queen of Greece and an, 128
Electrical Terms, 44
Electricity and Insurance, 79
“ The Dangers of, 15, 27
Elevator in Stockholm. An American, 111
Emperor Frederick. A Statue of the, 208
Engine. A new Style of Railway, 82
Engineer and our Public Buildings. The Army, 143
Engineering:—
Bridge. A complete Account of the Forth, 177
“ for Amsterdam. High-level, 47
“ London’s Tower, 192
“ Testing the Forth, 160
“ The Hawkesbury Railway, 106
“ in China. Ancient, 96
Dam. The Straits of Belle Isle, 48
Docks at Vizagapatam. Mud, 63
Electric Railways, 64, 111
Elevator in Stockholm. American, 111
Railroad. A Pneumatic Street, 95
“ for Baltimore. A Proposed Belt-line, 188
Tower for the Exhibition of 1892. High, 177
“ The Watkin, 16, 105
Tunnel. The East River, 178
“ “ St. Clair River, 128
“ “ Washington Aqueduct, 103
Water-power. A Remarkable, 47
“Entombment” in Mexico. A Titian, 60
Entombment. Sanitary, 24
Episcopal Cathedral, New York, Competition, 40, 62
Equestrian Monuments, 72, 170
Estimates. Builders’ and Sub-Contractors’, 161
Ethnology’s Fifth Annual Report. The Bureau of, 151
Etruscan Architecture, 36
“ Tombs, 131
Evanston, Ill. Architecture at, 118
Evaporation of Water in Traps, 15
Examinations and Diplomas. Architects’, 162
Exhibition:—
Architectural League. The, 40, 57, 143
Boston Architectural Club, 95
of 1892. The Chicago, 177
Exhibitions:—
of Architectural Drawings at Philadelphia, 107, 146
Exposition of 1889:—
Algerian Pavilion at the, 105
Buildings of the, 21, 105
Cairo Street at the, 105
Cochin-Chinese Pavilion at the, 106
Colonial Sections at the, 105
Double Statue at the, 32
Forestry Pavilion at the, 105
History of Habitation at the, 149, 168
Indian Pavilion at the, 105
Palaces of Liberal and Fine Arts, 21
Pavilions at the. The City of Paris, 21
Portuguese Pavilion at the, 105
Sanitary Exhibits at the, 21
Spanish Pavilion at the, 105
Tunisian Pavilion at the, 106
Views of Old Paris at the, 21

Fall of a Hotel in Sydney, N.S.W., 184
“ “ St. Louis Academy of Music, 66
“ “ the Roof of the Flora Hall, Hamburg, 196
Ferstel. Baron, 66
Feudal Military Architecture, 195
Fifteenth Century “Working-day.” A, 155
Fire:—
Apparatus, 29
Backs, 201, 203
Destruction of Toronto University by, 182
Doors, 156
Engines. Borrowing Suburban, 18, 146
in Secretary Tracy’s House. The, 186
Loss. Reducing the, 28
Fireplace Throat. The Open, 159
Fireproof Floor. The Schneider, 158
“ Whitewash, 208
Fires:—
in American Cities, 97
“ Mills. Extinguishing, 177
Water Used in Boston, 79
“Flats,” 3
Flues. Floor-beams and, 146
Floor. Beams and Flues, 146
“ The Schneider Fireproof, 158
Font in St. Peter Mancroft, 62
Forth Bridge Issue of “Engineering,” 177
“ “ Testing the, 160
Fortifications. Ancient Egyptian, 179
“ Assyrian, 179
“ Greek, 179
“ Modern, 195
“ Roman, 180
Foundation of Dry “Concrete.” A, 113
Foundations. A New Process of Preparing, 160
France. Architectural Education in, 162
Frederick the Great’s Tomb, 144
Freestone-Cutters. Lock-out among Boston, 161, 177
Fremiet’s Figure of Condé, 76
French Architects. Proposed Licensing of, 162
“ “ The Responsibility of, 2
Frost on Stone. The Action of, 98
Funerary Architecture, 99, 115, 131, 147, 163

Gallic Architecture, 52
Garnier’s History of Habitation, 149, 168
Gates for Cologne Cathedral. Bronze, 135
Geneva. The Brunswick Monument at, 16
German Building Contracts, 82
“ Construction, 155
Glass. The Duty on Window, 31
“ The Salviati Murano, 207
“ Lined Tubes for Underground Wires, 160
Grant Monument Competition. The, 145
Gravity Transit, 178
Great Wall of China. The, 19
Greek Architecture, 35
“ Fortifications, 179
“ Mouldings, 139
“ Tombs, 131
“Gods,” Mexico. “The City of the,” 172
Gustavus Adolphus. Statue of, 74
Gutters on the Albany Capitol. Defective, 97

Habitation. History of, 149, 168
Halls. The Sizes of Some Large, 184
Hand vs. Machine Work, 108
Hawkesbury Railway Bridge. The, 106
Hawthorn Tree of Cawdor. The, 110
Hay Fuel, 159
Heat. Loss of Power by Radiation of, 22, 157
Heating by Hot-water, 33
Hindoo Architecture, 19
“ Tombs, 148
History of Habitation, 149, 168
Horse in Sculpture. The, 72, 170
Hot-water Heating, 33
Hotel. A Paper, 160
“ at the Pyramids. A, 160
House of St. Simon, Angoulême, 61
Houses for Workingmen, 105
Hungary. Railway Zones in, 178
Hydraulic Power in London, 155
“ Pressure. Rocks Upheaved by, 26
Hypogea, 115

Ice for Domestic Use, 34
“  Skating-rink. An Artificial, 145
“  The Power of, 118
Illinois Chapter A.I.A. The, 182
Incomes of Architects. The, 1, 47, 127
India-rubber Paving, 192
Industrial Museum. The Berlin, 174
Inspection of Buildings in New York, 31
“ “ School-houses. State, 129
Insurance. A Question of, 18, 146
“ and Electricity, 79
“ and Safe Building, 49, 97
“ Company. Annual Report of Boston Manufacturers Mutual Fire, 177
“ Companies and Building Construction. The, 49, 97
Interiors. Photographing, 96
International Edition. Our, 17, 18, 65
Iron and its Treatment for Artistic Purposes. Cast, 201

Japanese Collections at the Boston Art Museum. The, 192
Jewels in Burmese Temples, 58
Jewish Architecture, 20
Judean Tombs, 117

Keely, Architect. Death of Charles, 18
Kirby’s Drawings. Mr. H. P., 107

Labor Syndicates. Contract-taking, 194
“ Troubles, 130, 161, 177, 193
Lamp-post Directory. A, 98
Land Values in Milwaukee, 160
“Lantern of the Dead.” The, 164
Laths. A Corner in, 192
Lead-pencils, 178
League Exhibition. The Architectural, 40, 57, 143
Leclère Prize. The Achille, 50
Legal:—
Alterations and Old Material, 109
Boston Building Laws. The, 109
Commission on a Standing Party-wall, 142
Compensation for Designs, 31
Competitor’s Suit against a Building-committee. A, 104
Contracts. Importance of Written, 65
Dismissal. Right of, 158
Libel Suit between Architects. A, 206
Lien Law. The New Rhode Island, 113
Owner’s Right to Build. An, 97
Responsibility of Architects. The, 2, 130
Suit against a Railroad. An Architect’s, 194
“Trolley” System. Decision against the, 128
Understanding between Architect and Client, 159
Van Beers Suits. The, 80
Leighton on a Device of Spanish Architecture. Sir Frederick, 146
Letters from:—
Australia, 106, 183
Boston, 190
Canada, 41, 104, 182
Chicago, 118, 182
London, 42, 104
New York, 108
Paris, 21, 105, 185
Philadelphia, 197
Washington, 43, 186
Libel-suit between Architects. A, 206
Licensing of Architects. The, 162
Lien Law. The New Rhode Island, 113
Light-house at Houstholm. The, 88
Lighting Effects. Picturesque Interior, 146
Lime in Architect’s Specifications, 161
Lock-out among Boston Freestone-Cutters, 161, 177
Locomotive. A New Style of, 82
Locrian Town. The Site of a, 16
London:—
British Museum. Electric-light at the, 104
County Council. The, 104
Houses for Workingmen, 105
Hydraulic Power. The Distribution of, 155
Letters from, 42, 104
National Portrait Gallery. The New, 208
Prize-men of the R.I.B.A., 104
St. Saviour’s, Southwark, 43
Subways for. Proposed, 43
Tower Bridge. The, 192
Waterhouse’s Annual Address before the R.I.B.A. Mr., 42
Watkin Tower. The, 16, 105
Lottery. Church Restoring by, 128
Louis XIV. Equestrian Statues of, 170
Lowell City-hall Contracts. The, 194

Machine-work. Hand vs., 103
Magnesia Coverings for Steam-pipes, 23, 157
Manual Training-school Pupils, 96
Marble and Freestone Cutters, 161
“ Beryt or Fluid, 160
Marcus Curtius. Statue of, 172
Massachusetts. State Inspection of School-houses in, 129
Master-builders’ Attempt to Discipline Architects. The Philadelphia, 161
Mausoleums, 133
Maximilian at Innsbruck. Tomb of, 61
Maximilian I. Statue of, 76
Maya. Temples of Ancient, 204
McAlpine, Civil Engineer. Death of, W. J., 129
McArthur, Jr., Architect. Death of John, 33
“ “ The Late John, 48
Mediæval Architecture, 52, 67
“ Cemeteries, 164
“ Tombs, 163
Mesopotamia. Explorations in, 160
Metal. A new Composite, 93
Mexican Congressional Palace. The Proposed, 96
“ Pyramids, 172
Mexico. A Titian “Entombment” in, 60
“ “The City of the Gods,” 172
Milan Cathedral. The Completion of, 130
Military Architecture, 179, 195
Mill-construction. Improvements in, 177
Millet’s “Angelus,” 12
Milwaukee. Land Values in, 160
Missouri State Association of Architects, 46
Modern Fortifications, 195
“ Tombs, 166
Monolithic Church of St. Emilion, 16
Mons. The Cathedral of, 114
Monument to the Emperor William. National, 32
“ “ Prison-ship Martyrs, 128
Monuments. Equestrian, 72, 170
“ Funerary, 99, 115, 131, 147, 163
“ New York, 151
Mosaic. The Salviati, 208
Mouldings. Greek, 139
Mud-docks at Vizagapatam, 63
Mummy Cats. Egyptian, 208
Munich. The Royal Polytechnicum at, 181
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. The, 175, 190
“ The Cost of a small, 23
Mussulman Architecture, 52

Naples. Heavy Rains at, 95
National Portrait Gallery, London. The New, 208
Natural-gas Supply. The, 32
Neutral Axis. To Find the, 111
New South Wales Institute of Architects. Quarrel in the, 183
New York:—
Architectural League Exhibition, 40, 57, 143
Architecture. Color in, 108
Barye Exhibition. The, 10
City-hall Park. The, 138
East River Tunnel. The, 178
Episcopal Cathedral Competition. The, 40, 62
Inspection of Buildings in, 31
Letters from, 108
Monuments, 151
Obelisk. The Protection of the, 178, 207
Paintings at the Barye Exhibition, 11
Tenement-houses, 89, 119
Newark Architectural Sketch-Club, 30
Northwestern University. The Buildings of the, 118
Nun. A Written Contract Necessary even when Dealing with a, 65

Oak-trees built into Chimney-walls, 146
“ Warfare on, 10
[Pg v]
Obelisk. Protection of the New York, 198, 207
Obituary:—
André. Jules, Architect, 145
Brentano. Signor, Architect, 130
Clark. George, Architect, 63
Durand. George F., Architect, 1
Keely. Charles, Architect, 18
McAlpine. W. J., Civil Engineer, 129
McArthur, Jr. John, Architect, 33
Oudinot. Eugène, Glass-stainer, 81
Roberts. E. L., Architect, 177
Sidel. Edouard, Architect, 113
Wells. Joseph M., Architect, 95
Office. A Chicago Architect’s, 50
Ontario Association of Architects, 41
Open-fireplace Throat. The, 159
Oriental Textiles at Berlin, 175
“ Tombs, 148
Oudinot, Glass-stainer. Death of Eugène, 81
Owner’s Right to Build. An, 97

Paint for Underground Work. A Cheap, 146
Painting on Cemented Surfaces, 146
Paintings at the Barye Exhibition, 11
“ “ “ Boston Art Museum, 191
Palace of San Giorgio, Genoa, 64
Paper Hotel. A, 160
Paraffine Process used on the Egyptian Obelisk. The, 178, 207
Paris:—
Bourse du Commerce. The New, 185
Bull-fights in, 130
Bull-ring Proposed for. A, 50
Halle au Blé. The, 185
Lamp-post Directory. A, 98
Letters from, 21, 105, 185
Model School-house. A, 82
Peabody Homes in, 56
Plasterers, 94
Salons. The Proposed two, 80
Skating-rink. An Artificial Ice, 145
Paris Exposition:—
Algerian Pavilion at the, 105
Buildings of the, 21, 105
Cairo Street at the, 105
Cochin-Chinese Pavilion at the, 106
Colonial Sections at the, 105
Double Statue at the, 32
Forestry Pavilion at the, 105
History of Habitation at the, 149, 168
Indian Pavilion at the, 105
Palaces of Liberal and Fine Arts, 21
Pavilions at the. The City of Paris, 21
Portuguese Pavilion at the, 105
Sanitary Exhibits at the, 21
Spanish Pavilion at the, 105
Tunisian Pavilion at the, 106
Views of Old Paris at the, 21
Pavement. India-rubber, 192
Pavements. Cast-iron, 192
Paving. Asphalt, 82
Peabody Homes in Paris, 56
Pencils. Lead, 178
Persian Court Art, 16
“ Tombs, 117
Philadelphia:—
Architectural Exhibition at the Art Club, 146
“ “ at the Penn. Academy, 107
Chapter, A.I.A., 46
Letters from, 107
Master-builders’ Attempt to Discipline Architects. The, 161
T-Square Club, 206
Phœnician Architecture, 20
“ Tombs, 117
Photographing Interiors, 96
Pirating Sculpture, 160
Planning of School-buildings. The, 81
Plaster-of-Paris and Marshmallow, 48
Plasterers. Paris, 94
Plate-glass. Protecting, 8
“ Works Convention. The, 176
Pneumatic Street Railroad. A, 95
Polytechnicum at Munich. The Royal, 181
Polytechnique. The Zurich, 154
Power in London. Hydraulic, 155
“ Lost by Radiation of Heat, 22, 156
Prehistoric Ruins of Yucatan. The, 58
Prints. Arranging Architectural, 207
Prison-ship Martyrs’ Monument. The, 128
Prize-winners. The R.I.B.A., 104
Profit-sharing. A Contractor’s, 2, 43
Protecting Building Stone, 98
Public Buildings in Canada. Proposed, 104
Pueblo Indians and the Works of the Rio Grande Irrigation Co. The, 63
Pyramids, 100
“ A Hotel at the, 160
“ Mexican, 172

Quebec City-hall Competition. The, 63
Queen of Greece and an Electric-wire. The, 128

Radiation of Heat. Loss of Power by, 22, 156
Railroad. A Pneumatic Street, 95
“ An Architect’s Suit against a, 194
Railway Bridge. The Hawkesbury, 106
“ Zones in Hungary, 178
Railways. Electric, 64, 111, 128
Rains at Naples. Heavy, 95
Rantzau. Statuette of Marshal, 76
Rapid Transit for Chicago, 182
Ravenna. The Early Christian Tombs at, 147
Reading-light for Railways. Electric, 50
Registration of Architects in Canada. The, 183
Renaissance Architecture, 69
“ Tombs, 165
Report of Boston Manufacturers Mutual Fire Insurance Company. Annual, 177
“ The Bureau of Ethnology’s Fifth Annual, 151
Reputation of Architects. The Influence of Architectural Journals on the, 17
Residence in Various Countries. Concentrated, 88, 119
Responsibility of Architects. The, 2, 130
Revising Bids. The Right of, 194
Rhode Island Lien Law. The New, 113
Richardson, H. H., 145
Rio Janeiro. The Sewage of, 156
Roberts, Architect. Death of E. L., 177
Rock. The Dighton, 93
Rocks Upheaved by Hydraulic Pressure, 26
Roman Architecture, 36, 51
“ Catholic Buildings in Australia, 107
“ Fortifications, 180
“ Tombs, 133
Romanesque Tombs, 163
Rome:—
Castle of St. Angelo. The, 208
Vandalism in, 79
Vatican Museum. The, 208
Viaduct in. Discovery of an Ancient, 80
Rotting. To Prevent Wood from, 146
Royal Institute of British Architects. Prize-winners, 104
Ruskin and His Work. John, 49

Safe Building, 121, 135, 197
St. Alban’s Abbey. The Restoration of, 42
“  Angelo, Rome. The Castle of, 208
“  Clair River Tunnel. The, 128
“  Emilion. The Monolithic Church of, 16
“  Louis Academy of Music. Fall of, 66
“  “ Chapter, A.I.A., 206
“  Regulus Church. St. Andrews, 45
“  Salvator’s Church, St. Andrews, 46
“  Saviour’s, Southwark. The Restoration of, 43
“  Sebald. Restoring the Church of, 128
Salons. The Proposed Two, 80
Salviati. Death of Dr., 208
Sandstone. The Structure of, 9
Sandy Foundations, 160
Sanitary:—
Concentrated Residence in Various Countries, 88, 119
Dessication of the Dead, 25
Entombment, 24
Exhibits at the Paris Exposition, 21
Inspection of New York Buildings, 31
Sewage of Rio Janeiro. The, 156
Tenement-houses, 88, 119
Ventilation of School-buildings, 82, 129
Sarcophagi, 163
Scaffold Accidents, 104
Scandinavian Art, 37, 53, 63
Schliemann vs. Dr. Botticher. Dr., 144
Schmiedbarenguss, 93
Schneider Fireproof Floor. The, 158
Scholar. Our Travelling. 153, 181
School-buildings. The Planning of, 81
“ House at Evanston, Ill. A, 118
“ “ The Model, 82
“ Houses. Books on, 207
“ “ The Ventilation of 82, 129
Sculpture and Architecture, 7
“ Pirating, 160
“ The Horse in, 72, 170
Sewage of Rio Janeiro. The, 156
Sgraffito-work, 154
Shades and Shadows. Architectural, 56
Sidel, Architect. Death of Edouard, 113
Skating-rink in Paris. An Artificial-Ice, 145
Slater Memorial Museum. The, 23
Slow-burning Construction, 29, 97
Soldiers’ Home at Washington. The, 143
South America. Architects in, 18
Spanish Architecture. A Device of, 146
Specifications Should be Specific. Good, 161
“Spectator” on the Underwriters’ Interest in Building. The, 49
Spires, Towers and Domes, 91, 101
Sprinklers in Mills. Automatic, 177
Stand-pipes and the Underwriters, 49
State Architect. The New York, 206
Statue Giving a Double Image, 32
“ of the Emperor Frederick. A, 208
Steam-pipes and Woodwork, 48
“ Coverings for, 22, 156
Steel Company’s Works near Baltimore. The Pennsylvania, 188
Stelæ, 99, 115
Stevens, Sculptor. Alfred, 201, 203
Stockholm. An American Elevator in, 111
Stones. The Decay of Building, 98
Straightening Walls, 22
Strasbourg Cathedral, 153
“ University, 154
Stray Thoughts for Young Architects, 90
Strikes and Lockouts. Threatened, 130
Styles. Changes of Architectural, 108
Subterranean Tombs, 115, 147
Suburban Building in Chicago, 132
Subways in London. Proposed, 43
Suspension-bridges. Chinese, 96
Swedish Penalties for Bad Building, 72
Syndicate. Proposed Contracting, 81
Syndicates. Contract-taking Labor, 191

Tapestries at Berlin. Exhibition of Textiles and, 174
Tariff on Works of Art. The, 18
Taxation of Roman Catholic Property in Montreal. The Exemption from, 42
Technical College. The Berlin, 140
Temples of Ancient Maya, 204
Tenement-houses, 88, 119
Teotihuacan, Mexico, 172
Testing the Forth Bridge, 160
Textiles and Tapestries at Berlin. Exhibition of, 174
Thirty Year’s War. The, 72
Thoughts for Young Architects. Stray, 90
Titian “Entombment” in Mexico. A, 60
Tobacco in England. The first Use of, 110
Tomb. Cleopatra’s, 141
“ Frederick the Great’s, 144
“ of Cecilia Metella, 134
“  “  Maximilian at Innsbruck, 61
Tombs:—
Assyrian, 116
Egyptian, 99, 115
Etruscan, 131
Greek, 131
Hindoo, 148
Judean, 117
Mediæval, 163
Modern, 166
Oriental, 148
Persian, 117
Phœnician, 117
Renaissance, 165
Roman, 133
Romanesque, 163
Subterranean, 115, 147
Toronto:—
Architectural Sketch-Club, 142
Burning of the University. The, 182
Proposed Improvements in, 42
Tower for the Exhibition of 1892. High, 177
“ The Watkin, 16, 105
Towers and Domes. Spires, 91, 101
Towns. The Laying-out of, 184
Tracy’s House. The Fire in Secretary, 186
Trade Surveys, 16, 32, 48, 64, 80, 96, 112, 128, 144, 160, 176, 192, 208
Trades-unions, 193
Training-school Pupils, 96
Traps. Evaporation of Water in, 15
Travelling-Scholar. Our, 153, 181
“Trolley” System. Decision against the, 128
T-Square Club, Philadelphia. The, 206
Tumuli. Celtic, 99
Tunnel. The East River, 178
“ “ St. Clair River, 128
“ “ Washington Aqueduct, 103

Underground Wires. Glass-lined Tubes for, 160
“ Work. A Cheap Paint for, 146
Understanding between Architect and Client. The, 159
Underwriter’s Interest in Building. The Spectator on the, 49
Undermining. Well-sinking by, 98
University. Strasbourg, 154
Uxmal, 204

Van Beers. The Artist Jan, 80
Vandalism in Rome, 79
Vane in Burmah. A Jewelled, 58
Vatican. Art at the, 208
Ventilating Wooden Columns, 31
Ventilation of School-buildings, 82, 129
Verplanck Homestead. The, 26
Viaduct in Rome. Discovery of an Ancient, 80
Vikings. The Art of the, 37, 53

Walking Delegate. The Power of a, 193
Wall. Collapse of a Retaining, 113
Walls. Straightening, 22
Walnut Logs, 192
Warren’s Sketches at the League Exhibition. Mr., 57, 143
Washington:—
Aqueduct Tunnel. The, 103
Building in. Recent and Future, 44
Chapter, A.I.A., 43
Letters from, 43, 186
Railroad. A Pneumatic Street, 95
Soldiers’ Home Building. The, 143
Tracy’s House. The Fire in Secretary, 186
Water-color Drawings. Architectural, 107
“ Painting. Books on, 31
Waterhouse’s Annual Address before the R.I.B.A. Mr., 42
Water-power. A Remarkable, 47
“ supply of London. The, 156
“ used in Boston Fires, 79
Watkin Tower. The, 16, 105
Wattle-tree. The, 10
Welding. Electric, 176
Well-sinking by Undermining, 98
Wells, Architect. Death of Joseph M., 95
White House. The American Architect Travelling-scholarship Design for a new, 158
Whitewash. Fireproof, 208
Will. The Power of the, 112
William of Orange. Statue of, 74
Wood from Rotting. To Prevent, 146
“Working-day.” A Fifteenth-century, 155
Working-drawings, 63
World’s Fair. The Chicago, 177, 182

Yucatan. Ancient Temples of, 204
“ Exploring Expedition. A New, 112
“ Ruins and Works of Art in, 58

Zones in Hungary. Railway, 178

[Pg vi]

ILLUSTRATIONS.

[The figures refer to the number of the journal, and not to the page.]

DETAILS.

Old Iron and Brasswork at Providence, R.I., 737
Renaissance Doorways, Toulouse, France, 737

DWELLINGS.

Balveny Castle, Scotland, 735
Block of Houses for E. K. Greene, Kearney, Neb. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 741
Cottage at Tuxedo, N.Y. Renwick, Aspinwall & Russell, Architects, 744
“ for Dr. T. H. Willard, Jr., Greenville, N.Y. Adolph Haak, Architect, 737
House at Malden, Mass. Chamberlin & Whidden, Architects, 738
“  “  Rochester, N.Y. W. C. Walker, Architect, 736
House of:—
J. R. Burnett, Orange, N.J.  F. W. Beall, Architect, 743
C. H. Elmendorff, Kearney, Neb. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 737
C. De Lacey Evan, Ruxton, Md. E. G. W. Dietrich, Architect, 734
Geo. W. Frank, Kearney, Neb. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 743
Capt. Jesse H. Freeman, Brookline, Mass. W. A. Rodman, Architect, 738
Prof. C. E. Hart, New Brunswick, N.J. H. R. Marshall, Archt., 736
J. H. Howe, Rochester, N.Y. Nolan Bros., Architects, 736
Julius Howells, Chicago, Ill. Wm. H. Pfau, Architect, 740
A. H. Stem, Minnetonka Beach, Minn. A. H. Stem, Architect, 741
W. S. Wells, Newport, R.I. G. E. Harding & Co., Architects, 736
Albert Will, Rochester, N.Y. Otto Block, Architect, 735
Houses for Potter Palmer, Chicago, Ill. C. M. Palmer, Architect, 735
“ “ Dr. A. Wharton, St. Paul, Minn. A. H. Stem, Architect, 739
Netley Corners, Minneapolis, Minn. J. C. Plant, Architect, 744
Premises of G. G. Booth, Detroit, Mich. Mason & Rice, Architects, 740
Suggestion for the Executive Mansion by Theodore F. Laist. Successful Design for the American Architect Travelling-Scholarship.
Workman’s Dwelling-house on the Cohesive System, 739

ECCLESIASTICAL.

Aberbrothwick Abbey, Arbroath, Scotland, 732
Baptist Church, Gardiner, Me. Stevens & Cobb, Architects, 737
Cathedral of St. Machar, Aberdeen, Scotland, 733
Chapel, St. Paul’s School, Concord, N.H. Henry Vaughan, Architect, 742
Competitive Design for First Baptist Church, Malden, Mass. Lewis & Phipps, Architects, 740
Competitive Design for the:—
Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York, N.Y.
Glenn Brown, Architect, 732
Cram & Wentworth, Architects, 738 (Imp.)
B. G. Goodhue, Architect, 738 (Imp.)
J. R. Rhind, Architect, 743 (Imp.)
Congregational Church, Wakefield, Mass. Hartwell & Richardson, Architects, 744
Dalmeny Church, Linlithgow, Scotland, 743 (Imp.)
Design for Presbyterian Church, Memphis, Tenn. W. Albert Swasey, Architect, 742
First Baptist Church, Elmira, N.Y. Pierce & Dockstader, Architects, 739
Memorial “Church of the Angels,” Los Angeles, Cal. E. A. Coxhead, Architect, 733
St. Augustine Roman Catholic Church Buildings, Brooklyn, N.Y. Parfitt Bros., Architects, 733
“ Luke’s Church, Mansfield, O. W. G. Preston, Architect, 744
“ Regulus’s Church, St. Andrews, Scotland, 734 (Imp.)
“ Salvator’s Church, St. Andrews, Scotland, 734 (Imp.)
Sketch for a Church. Edward Stotz, Architect, 742
Throop Ave. Presbyterian Church, Brooklyn, N.Y. Fowler & Hough, Architects, 742

EDUCATIONAL.

High School, Cambridge, Mass. Chamberlin & Austin, Architects, 743
“ “ Los Angeles, Cal. J. N. Preston & Son, Architects, 738
School-house, Lewiston, Me. Geo. F. Coombs, Architect, 735
University, Strasbourg, Germany. Prof. Worth, Architect, 741

FOREIGN.

Aberbrothwick Abbey, Arbroath, Scotland, 732
Balveny Castle, Scotland, 735
Cathedral of St. Machar, Aberdeen, Scotland, 733
Central Dome of Exhibition Buildings, Paris, France, 740
Dalmeny Church, Linlithgow, Scotland, 743 (Imp.)
Hall, Craigievar Castle, Aberdeen, Scotland, 743 (Imp.)
Renaissance Doorways, Toulouse, France, 737
St. Regulus’s Church, St. Andrews, Scotland, 734 (Imp.)
“  Salvator’s Church, St. Andrews, Scotland, 734 (Imp.)
Tower, St. Etienne du Mont, Paris, France, 737
Town Hall, Sydney, N.S.W., 743
University, Strasbourg, Germany. Prof. Worth, Architect, 741

HOTELS.

Alicia Springs Hotel, Pennfield, Pa. E. Culver, Architect, 738
Hotel de Soto, Savannah, Ga. W. G. Preston, Architect, 733
Sketch for Hotel at Norton, Va. Geo. T. Pearson, Architect, 734

INTERIORS.

Hall, Craigievar Castle, Aberdeen, Scotland, 743 (Imp.)
“ in House of W. R. Ray, Los Angeles, Cal. W. Redmore Ray, Architect, 740
Sitting-room in House of J. H. Howe, Rochester, N.Y. Nolan Bros., Architects, 736

MERCANTILE.

Anniston City Land Co. Building, Anniston, Ala. Chisolm & Green, Architects, 734
Building for the Boston Real Estate Trust. Cabot, Everett & Mead, Architects, 744
Design for an Office-building, Boston, Mass. C. H. Blackall, Archt., 734
Factory Building, on the Cohesive System, 739
Sketch of Store, Boston, Mass. Wait & Cutter, Architects, 732

MISCELLANEOUS.

Alcove Sleeping-car, 742
Heads of Mexican Gods, 742
Vault, Greenwood Cemetery, Brooklyn, N.Y. Renwick, Aspinwall & Russell, Architects, 744

PUBLIC.

Central Dome of Exhibition Buildings, Paris, France, 740
Town-hall, East Providence, R.I. W. K. Walker & Son, Architects, 738
“ Sydney, N.S.W., 743

RAILROAD.

Competitive Designs for Railroad-stations, by the Rochester Architectural Sketch Club, 738

STABLES.

Sketch of Stable, Paterson, N.J. C. Edwards, Architect, 735

TOWERS AND SPIRES.

Tower, St. Etienne du Mont, Paris, France, 737
“ Sketched from the Competitive Design of C. B. Atwood, Architect, for the New City-hall, New York, N.Y., 736
Town Clock-tower. Designed by Willis Polk, Architect, 736

BARONIAL AND ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES OF SCOTLAND.

Aberbrothwick Abbey, 732
Balveny Castle, 735
Castle Campbell, 739 (Int.)
Cawdor Castle, 738 (Int.)
Craigievar Castle, 743 (Imp.)
Dalmeny Church, 743 (Imp.)
St. Machar’s Cathedral, 733
“  Regulus’s Church, 734 (Imp.)
“  Salvator’s Church, 734 (Imp.)

ROTCH SCHOLARSHIP DRAWINGS.

[Published only in the Imperial and International Editions.]

Angers Cathedral, 734 (Imp.)
Catania, 734 (Imp.)
Nôtre Dame, Poitiers, 734 (Imp.)
Pierrefonds, 734 (Imp.)
St. Ours, Loches, 731 (Imp.)

ILLUSTRATIONS.—INTERNATIONAL EDITION.

[The figures refer to the number of the journal and not to the page.]

COLORED PRINTS.

[Published only in the Imperial and International Editions.]

Detail of Entrance, Osborn Hall, New Haven, Conn. Bruce Price, Architect, 744 (Imp.)
House of W. A. Burnham, Boston, Mass. E. C. Curtis, Archt., 739 (Imp.)
Ruined Chapel of Charles V, Yuste, Spain, 732
Street View in Dinan, France, 736
Torre del Vino, Alhambra, Granada, Spain, 732
U.S. Trust Co.’s Building, New York, N.Y. R. W. Gibson, Architect, 734 (Imp.)

DETAILS.

Capitals from Chamber of Commerce, Cincinnati, O. H. H. Richardson and Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge, Successors, Architects, 740 (Gel.)
Detail of Entrance, Osborn Hall, New Haven, Conn. Bruce Price, Architect, 744 (Gel.)
Entrance, Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 739
Font and Canopy, St. Peter, Mancroft, Norwich, Eng. Frank T. Baggallay, Architect, 735
House-gable on Taubenstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Holst, Architect, 742 (Gel.)
Piers of the Cathedral Portico, Lucca, Italy, 739 (Gel.)
Porte Cochère, Paris, France, 744 (Gel.)
Portico, Ecole de Medicine, Paris, France, 741 (Gel.)
Window in Grisaille Glass. W. R. Lethaby, Designer, 740
Wrought-iron Gates, Chelmsford, Eng., 732

DWELLINGS.

A Country House. Horace R. Appelbee, Architect, 732
Black Knoll, Brockenhurst, Eng. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742
Butler’s Wood, Chislehurst, Eng. Ernest Newton, Architect, 733
Castle Campbell, Clackmannan, Scotland, 739
Cawdor Castle, Nairn, Scotland, 738
Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 733 (Gel.)
Coombe Warren, Kingston, England. George Devey, Architect, 732, 734
Folkton Manor House, Eng. E. J. May, Architect, 743
Hall Place, Tonbridge, Eng. George Devey, Architect, 741
Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 735, 738
House at Exeter, Eng. James Crocker, Architect, 733
“ “ Goring-on-Thames, Eng. Geo. W. Webb, Architect, 740
“ “ Tunbridge Wells, Eng. George Devey, Architect, 741
House-gable on Taubenstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Holst, Archt., 742 (Gel.)
House, James St., Buckingham Gate, London, Eng. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742
“ near Birmingham, Eng. Essex & Nicol, Architects, 743
House of:—
J. Benic, Karlstadt, Austria. Hans Pruckner, Architect, 743 (Gel.)
Mrs. Charles Blake, Boston, Mass. Sturgis & Cabot, Archts., 732 (Gel.)
Charles F. Brush, Cleveland, O. George H. Smith, Archt., 742 (Gel.)
W. A. Burnham, Boston, Mass. E. C. Curtis, Architect, 739 (Gel.)
Mrs. Consino, Santiago, Chili, 733, 734
Señor Cuda, Santiago, Chili, 740 (Gel.)
Mrs. S. T. Everett, Cleveland, O. C. F. & J. A. Schweinfurth, Architects,  735 (Gel.)
Herr Hatner, Buda-Pesth, Austria. Alfred Wellisch, Archt., 744 (Gel.)
Mrs. T. T. Haydock, Cincinnati, O. J. W. McLaughlin, Archt., 743 (Gel.)
Edwin Long, R.A., Hampstead, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 744
Mr. McKenna, Santiago, Chili, 740 (Gel.)
E. D. Pearce, Providence, R.I. Rotch & Tilden, Architects, 740
G. M. Smith, Providence, R.I. Stone, Carpenter & Willson, Architects, 733 (Gel.)
St. Simon, Angoulême, France, 735
House on the Rauchstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Kaiser & Grossheim, Archts., 741 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Yorkstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Rintz, Architect, 744 (Gel.)
Mill Pond Farm, Cranbrook, Eng. M. E. Macartney, Architect, 743
Official Residence of the Intendente, Santiago, Chili, 734
Palace of Count Pallavicini, Vienna, Austria. Herr Von Hohenberg, Architect, 743 (Gel.)
Residence of the Former Viceroy of the Province, Santiago, Chili, 738 (Gel.)
Semi-detached Houses, Ripon, Eng. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 740
The Gables, Felixstowe, Eng. William A. Thorp, Architect, 740
Vicarage, Tweedmouth, Eng. F. R. Wilson, Architect, 744
Villa Blanca, near Innsbruck, Austria. J. W. Deininger, Archt., 740 (Gel.)

ECCLESIASTICAL.

All Saints’ Church, Leek, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 735
“ “ “ London, Eng. Christopher & White, Architects, 743
Cathedral, Quimper, France, 742 (Gel.)
Chapel of St. Mary of Nazareth, Edgware, Eng. James Brooks, Architect, 736
Church of All Saints, Falmouth, Eng. J. D. Sedding, Archt., 737
“ “ St. John the Baptist, Reading, Eng. E. Prioleau Warren, Architect, 737
“ “ “ Martin, Seamer, Eng. C. Hodgson Fowler, Architect, 742
Cloister, Poblet, Spain, 737 (Gel.)
Competitive design for the:—
Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York, N.Y.
Edward C. Casey, Architect, 736
Stephen C. Earle, Architect, 736
John L. Faxon, Architect, 736
Design for a Village Church. Gerald C. Horsley, Architect, 740
“ “ Church of the Good Shepherd, London, Eng. T. Phillips Figgis, Archt., 733
Episcopal Church, West Medford, Mass. H. H. Richardson, Archt., 737 (Gel.)
Font and Canopy, St. Peter Mancroft, Norwich, Eng. Frank T. Baggallay, Architect, 735
Interior of St. Paul Extra Muros, Rome, Italy, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ the Cathedral, Albi, France, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Hofkirche with Tomb of Maximilian I, Innsbruck, Austria, 735 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Recoletu Church, Santiago, Chili, 735 (Gel.)
Parish Room and School, Charleton, Devon, Eng. F. J. Commin, Architect, 739
Ruined Chapel of Charles V, Yuste, Spain, 732
Wesleyan Chapel, Leeds, Eng. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 734

EDUCATIONAL.

Board School, Bromley, Kent, Eng. Vacher & Hellicar, Architects, 739
Competitive design for:—
Gymnasium for Brown University, Providence, R.I.
Gould & Angell, Architects, 741
Stone, Carpenter & Willson, Architects, 741
Design for a Board School. Geo. W. Webb, Architect, 733
Old Façade, Ecole de Medecine, Paris, France, 741 (Gel.)
Osborn Hall, New Haven, Conn. Bruce Price, Architect, 741 (Gel.)
Parish Room and School, Charleton, Devon, Eng. F. J. Commin, Architect, 739
Swimming-bath and Gymnasium, Grocers’ Company’s Schools, Hackney Downs, Eng. Henry C. Boyes, Architect, 736

[Pg vii]

FOREIGN.

All Saints’ Church, Leek, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 735
“ “ “ London, Eng. Christopher & White, Archts., 743
Arch of Septimus Severus, Rome, Italy, 734
Auditorium of the Palace of the Trocadéro, Paris, France, 732 (Gel.)
“Bargello,” Florence, Italy. The, 734
Black Knoll, Brockenhurst, Eng. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742
Board School, Bromley, Kent, Eng. Vacher & Hellicar, Architects, 739
Business Premises, London, Eng. Frederick Wallen, Architect. 738
Butler’s Wood, Chislehurst, Eng. Ernest Newton, Architect, 733
“Ca’ d’Oro,” Venice, Italy. The, 734
Castle Campbell, Clackmannan, Scotland, 739
Cathedral, Quimper, France, 742 (Gel.)
Cawdor Castle, Nairn, Scotland, 738
Chapel of St. Mary of Nazareth, Edgware, Eng. James Brooks, Architect, 736
Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 733 (Gel.)
Church of All Saints, Falmouth, Eng. J. D. Sedding, Archt., 737
“ “ St. John the Baptist, Reading, Eng. E. Prioleau Warren, Architect, 737
“ “ “ Martin, Seamer, Eng. C. Hodgson Fowler, Architect, 742
Clee Park Hotel, Grimsby, Eng. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738
Cloister, Poblet, Spain, 737 (Gel.)
Congress Hall and Chamber of Deputies, Santiago, Chili, 738 (Gel.)
Coombe Warren, Kingston, England. George Devey, Architect, 732
Corridor in House of Edwin Long, R.A., Hampstead, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 744
Design for Church of the Good Shepherd, London, Eng. T. Phillips Figgis, Architect, 733
Dining-room, Coombe Warren, Kingston, Eng. George Devey, Archt., 734
Drawing-room, Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 736
Entrance, Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 739
Folkton Manor House, Eng. E. J. May, Architect, 743
Font and Canopy, St. Peter Mancroft, Norwich, Eng. Frank T. Baggallay, Architect, 735
Frome Union Offices, Frome, Eng. Drake & Bryan, Architects, 744
Grand Hotel, Vienna, Austria. Carl Tietz, Architect, 741 (Gel.)
Hall, Castle Campbell, Clackmannan, Scotland. The, 739
“ Coombe House, near Shaftesbury, Eng. E. Towry White, Architect, 736
“ Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. The, 738
Hill Place, Tonbridge, Eng. George Devey, Architect, 741
Holcombe, Chatham, England. John Belcher, Architect, 733, 736
House at Exeter, Eng. James Crocker, Architect, 733
“ “ Goring-on-Thames, Eng. Geo. W. Webb, Architect, 740
“ “ Tunbridge Wells, England. George Devey, Archt., 741
House-gable on Taubenstrasse, Berlin, Germany, 742 (Gel.)
House, James St., Buckingham Gate, London, Eng. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742
“ near Birmingham, Eng. Essex & Nicol, Architects, 743
House of:—
J. Benic, Karlstadt, Austria. Hans Pruckner, Architect, 743 (Gel.)
Mrs. Consino, Santiago, Chili, 733, 734
Señor Cuda, Santiago, Chili, 740 (Gel.)
Herr Hatner, Buda-Pesth, Austria. Alfred Wellisch, Archt., 744 (Gel.)
Edwin Long, R.A., Hampstead, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Archt., 744
Mr. McKenna, Santiago, Chili, 740 (Gel.)
St. Simon, Angoulême, France, 735
House on the Rauchstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Kaiser & Grossheim, Archts., 741 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Yorkstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Rintz, Architect, 744 (Gel.)
Interior in the Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 732, 733 (Gel.)
“    of St. Paul Extra Muros, Rome, Italy, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ the Cathedral, Albi, France, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Hofkirche, with Tomb of Maximilian I, Innsbruck, Austria, 735 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Recoletu Church, Santiago, Chili, 735 (Gel.)
Italian Sketches, 734
Kitchen, Castello di Vincigliata, Italy. G. Fancelli, Architect, 735
“Lloyds,” Trieste, Austria. Baron Heinrich von Ferstel, Architect, 740 (Gel.)
Mill Pond Farm, Cranbrook, Eng. M. E. Macartney, Architect, 743
New Bourse du Commerce, Paris, France. H. Blondel, Architect, 735
“ Premises, Chester, Eng. T. M. Lockwood, Architect, 737
Official Residence of the Intendente, Santiago, Chili, 734
Old Façade, Ecole de Medecine, Paris, France, 741 (Gel.)
Painting by Puvis de Chavannes in the Grand Hall of the Sorbonne, Paris, France, 743 (Gel.)
Palace of Count Pallavicini, Vienna, Austria. Herr Von Hohenberg, Architect, 743 (Gel.)
“ “ the Liberal Arts, Paris, France. J. C. Formigé, Architect, 735
Parish Room and School, Charleton, Devon, Eng. F. J. Commin, Architect, 739
Piers of the Cathedral Portico, Lucca, Italy, 739 (Gel.)
Porte Cochère, Paris, France, 744 (Gel.)
Portico, Ecole de Medecine, Paris, France, 741 (Gel.)
Railway Tavern, Grimsby, Eng. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738
Residence of the Former Viceroy of the Province, Santiago, Chili, 738 (Gel.)
Ruined Chapel of Charles V, Yuste, Spain, 732
Savings Bank, Linz, Austria. Austrian Building Co., Architects, 742 (Gel.)
Semi-detached Houses, Ripon, Eng. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 740
Stables, Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 739
Street View in Dinan, France, 736
“ “ “ Santiago, Chili, 736 (Gel.)
Swimming-bath and Gymnasium, Grocers’ Company’s Schools, Hackney Downs, Eng. Henry C. Boyes, Architect, 736
Temples of Faustina and Romulus, Rome, Italy, 734
The Gables, Felixstowe, Eng. William A. Thorp, Architect, 740
Torre del Vino, Alhambra, Granada, Spain, 732
Vicarage, Tweedmouth, Eng. F. R. Wilson, Architect, 744
Villa Blanca, near Innsbruck, Austria. J. W. Deininger, Architect, 740 (Gel.)
Warehouse, Stockholm, Sweden. A. Egendomen, Architect, 735
Wesleyan Chapel, Leeds, Eng. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 734
Wrought-iron Gates, Chelmsford, Eng., 732

GELATINE.

[Published only in the Imperial and International Editions.]

Auditorium of the Palace of the Trocadéro, Paris, France, 732
Capitals from Chamber of Commerce, Cincinnati, O. H. H. Richardson and Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge Successors, Architects, 740 (Imp.)
Cathedral, Quimper, France, 742
Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 733
Cloister, Poblet, Spain, 737
Congress Hall and Chamber of Deputies, Santiago, Chili, 738
Detail of Entrance, Osborn Hall, New Haven, Conn. Bruce Price, Architect, 744 (Imp.)
Entrance Hall in House of Prof. C. E. Hart, New Brunswick, N.J. H. R. Marshall, Architect, 736, (Imp.)
Episcopal Church, West Medford, Mass. H. H. Richardson, Archt., 737 (Imp.)
Grand Hotel, Vienna, Austria. Carl Tietz, Architect, 741
House-gable on Taubenstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Holst, Archt., 742
House of:—
J. Benic, Karlstadt, Austria. Hans Pruckner, Architect, 743
Mrs. Charles Blake, Boston, Mass. Sturgis & Cabot, Archts., 732 (Imp.)
Charles F. Brush, Cleveland, O. George H. Smith, Archt., 742 (Imp.)
Señor Cuda, Santiago, Chili, 740
Mrs. S. T. Everett, Cleveland, O. C. F. & J. A. Schweinfurth, Architects, 735 (Imp.)
Herr Hatner, Buda-Pesth, Austria. Alfred Wellisch, Architect, 744
Mrs. T. T. Haydock, Cincinnati, O. J. W. McLaughlin, Architect, 743 (Imp.)
Mr. McKenna, Santiago, Chili, 740
G. M. Smith, Providence, R.I. Stone, Carpenter & Willson, Architects, 733 (Imp.)
House on the Rauchstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Kaiser & Grossheim, Architects, 741
House on the Yorkstrasse, Berlin, Germany. Herr Rintz, Archt., 744
Interior in the Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 732, 733
“    of St. Paul Extra Muros, Rome, Italy, 734
“ “ the Cathedral, Albi, France, 734
“ “ “ Hofkirche with Tomb of Maximilian I, Innsbruck, Austria, 735
“ “ “ Recoletu Church, Santiago, Chili, 735
Interiors in House at Malden, Mass. Chamberlin & Whidden, Architects, 738 (Imp.)
“Lloyds,” Trieste, Austria. Baron Heinrich von Ferstel, Architect, 740
Old Façade, Ecole de Medecine, Paris, France, 741
Osborn Hall, New Haven, Conn. Bruce Price, Architect, 741 (Imp.)
Painting by Puvis de Chavannes in the Grand Hall of the Sorbonne, Paris, France, 743
Palace of Count Pallavicini, Vienna, Austria. Herr Von Hohenberg, Architect, 743
Piers of the Cathedral Portico, Lucca, Italy, 739
Porte Cochère, Paris, France, 744
Portico, Ecole de Medecine, Paris, France, 741
Residence of the Former Viceroy of the Province, Santiago, Chili, 738
Savings Bank, Linz, Austria. Austrian Building Co., Architects, 742
Street View in Santiago, Chili, 736
Villa Blanca, near Innsbruck, Austria. J. W. Deininger, Architect, 740

HOTELS.

Clee Park Hotel, Grimsby, Eng. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738
Grand Hotel, Vienna, Austria. Carl Tietz, Architect, 741 (Gel.)
Railway Tavern, Grimsby, Eng. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738

INTERIORS.

Auditorium of the Palace of the Trocadéro, Paris, France, 732 (Gel.)
Church of All Saints, Falmouth, Eng. J. D. Sedding, Archt., 737
“ “ St. Martin, Seamer, Eng. C. Hodgson Fowler, Architect, 742
Corridor in House of Edwin Long, R.A., Hampstead, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 744
Dining-room, Coombe Warren, Kingston, Eng. George Devey, Archt., 734
Drawing-room, Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Archt., 736
Entrance Hall in House of Prof. C. E. Hart, New Brunswick, N.J. H. R. Marshall, Architect, 736 (Gel.)
Hall, Castle Campbell, Clackmannan, Scotland. The, 739
“ Coombe House, near Shaftesbury, Eng. E. Towry White, Architect, 736
“ Holcombe, Chatham, Eng. John Belcher, Architect, 738
Interior in the Château de Josselin, Morbihan, France, 732, 733 (Gel.)
“    of All Saints’ Church, Leek, Eng. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 735
“ “ St. Paul Extra Muros, Rome, Italy, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ the Cathedral, Albi, France, 734 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Hofkirche with Tomb of Maximilian I, Innsbruck, Austria, 735 (Gel.)
“ “ “ Recoletu Church, Santiago, Chili, 735 (Gel.)
Interiors in House at Malden, Mass. Chamberlin & Whidden, Architects, 738 (Gel.)
Kitchen, Castello di Vincigliata, Italy. G. Fancelli, Architect, 735
Painting by Puvis de Chavannes in the Grand Hall of the Sorbonne, Paris, France, 743 (Gel.)
Swimming-bath and Gymnasium, Grocers’ Company’s Schools, Hackney Downs, Eng. Henry C. Boyes, Architect, 736

MERCANTILE.

Business Premises, London, England. Frederick Wallen, Architect, 738
“Lloyds,” Trieste, Austria. Baron Heinrich von Ferstel, Architect, 740 (Gel.)
New Premises, Chester, Eng. T. M. Lockwood, Architect, 737
Savings Bank, Linz, Austria. Austrian Building Co., Archts., 742 (Gel.)
U.S. Trust Co.’s Building, New York, N.Y. R. W. Gibson, Architect, 734 (Gel.)
Warehouse, Stockholm, Sweden. A. Egendomen, Architect, 735

MISCELLANEOUS.

Historical Figures from the Lord Mayor’s Procession, 732
Italian Sketches, 734
“Lion and Serpent.” A. L. Barye, Sculptor, 732
New Year’s Day in the Olden Time, 735
Norwich, from the Cromer Road, by John Sell Cotman, 742
Painting by Puvis de Chavannes in the Grand Hall of the Sorbonne, Paris, France, 743 (Gel.)
Sketches in Normandy, by Herbert Railton, 739
Street View in Dinan, France, 736
“ “ “ Santiago, Chili, 736 (Gel.)
Swimming-bath and Gymnasium, Grocers’ Company’s Schools, Hackney Downs, Eng. Henry C. Boyes, Architect, 736
Winter, from a Painting by Nicolas Lancret, 741

MONUMENTAL.

Interior of the Hofkirche with Tomb of Maximilian I, Innsbruck, Austria, 735 (Gel.)

PUBLIC.

Congress Hall and Chamber of Deputies, Santiago, Chili, 738 (Gel.)
Frome Union Offices, Frome, England. Drake & Bryan, Architects, 744
New Bourse du Commerce, Paris, France. H. Blondel, Architect, 735
Palace of the Liberal Arts, Paris, France. J. C. Formigé, Archt., 735

STABLES.

Stables, Holcombe, Chatham, England. John Belcher, Architect, 739

TOWERS AND SPIRES.

Torre del Vino, Alhambra, Granada, Spain, 732

TEXT CUTS.

[These figures refer to the page of text, not to the plates.]

Arch at Naples, 77
Axe-head, 89
Bracteates, 53, 54
Capitals, 60, 91, 94, 156
Cartoon for Sgraffito, 3
Centennial Hall, Sydney, 184
Chair from Khorsabad, 72
Civil & Domestic Architecture:—
Basilica. A Roman, 51
Baths of Caracalla. Plan of, 36
Colonnade of the Louvre, Paris, 70
Foscari Palace, Venice, 68
Fountain, Place Stanislas, Nancy, 85
Garde-Meuble, Paris, 83
Gare d’Orléans, Paris, 88
Halle au Blé, Paris, 83, 84
Halles Centrales, Paris, 87, 88
Hôtel de Ville, Brussels, 67
“ “ “ Paris, 69
“ “ “ St. Antonin, France, 51
“   des Invalides, Paris, 70, 71
Library of St. Geneviève, Paris, 87
Mint, Paris. The, 83
Monument of Lysicrates, 35
Odéon, Paris. The, 84
Opéra-House, Paris, 86
Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, 67
Place Stanislas, Nancy, 85
Procurazie Nuove, Venice, 68
Strozzi Palace, Florence, 70
Theatre of Herculaneum, 51
Tower of the Winds, 36
Copper-plates from Etowah Mound, 153
“Dance,” Paris Opéra-House. Carpeaux’s, 101
Doorway, Newport, R.I., 28
Doorways. Carved Church, 38, 39
Dormer, 58
Entrance, Stokesay Castle, 155
Equestrian Designs, 72, 170
Equestrian Monuments:—
Condé. The Great, 76
Louis XIV, 170, 171
Gustavus Adolphus, 73
Maximilian I, 74
Marcus Curtius, 170
Marshal Rantzau, 76
William of Orange, 72
Fibula, 54
Funerary Architecture:—
Absalom’s Tomb, 116
Campo Santo at Genoa, 167
“    “  “  Pisa, 164
Catacombs, 147
Celtic Tumuli, 99
Egyptian Tombs, 100
Etruscan Tombs, 131
Hypogea, 115
Mausoleum of Taghlak, 148
Mediæval Tombs, 163
Mougheir Tombs, 115
Phœnician Tombs, 116
Pyramids. The, 100
Roman Cippus, 134
“ Columbarium, 134
“ Funerary Urn, 134
[Pg viii]
Sepulchral Chapel at Paris, 167
Stelæ, 116
Tomb at Montmorency, 166
Tomb at Palmyra, 134
Tomb at Pompeii, 133
Tomb in S. Maria del Popolo, Rome, 165
Tomb of
Louis de Brézé, Rouen, 165
Cecilia Metella, Rome, 132
Hadrian, 132, 133
Louis XII, St. Denis, 164
Mazarin, Paris, 166
Nakschi Roustam, 117
Paul III, Rome, 166
St. Stephen, Obazine, 163
Marshal Saxe, Strasbourg, 167
Theodoric, Ravenna, 147
Tombs at Mycenæ, 131
Tombs at Telmissus and Theron, 131
Tombs in India, 148
Tombs in Judea and Asia Minor, 117
Tomb of the Caliphs at Cairo, 148
Urn Containing Heart of Francis I, 164
George Inn, Norton, Eng., 44
Hall in House of J. H. Howe, Rochester, N.Y. Nolan Bros., Architects, 78
Hinge. Wrought-iron, 135
History of Habitation:—
Aztec Dwelling. An, 169
Byzantine House, 151
Egyptian House, 150
Etruscan House, 168
Gallo-Roman House, 150
Hebrew House, 169
Inca Dwelling, 149
Pelasgian Hut, 149
Phœnician House, 168
Horns. Golden, 55, 56
House of A. A. Carey, Cambridge, Mass. Sturgis & Brigham, Architects, 23
Impost, 50
Martyrs Column, Naples, Italy, 22
Military Architecture:—
Arch of Austria. The Louvre, 195
Assyrian Fortress, 179
Bastioned City. A, 196
Enceinte of Constantinople, 180
Fortification. Section of a, 196
Fortresses. Egyptian, 179
Plan of Tiryns, 179
Towers of Messene, 180
Tyre, 180
Wall of Castellum of Jublaius, 180
Wall of Château Gaillard, 195
Walls of Pompeii, 180
Walls of Verona, 180
“Modern Improvements.” “All the,” 109, 141, 156, 174
Monument. Scandinavian, 55
“   to Egmont and Horn, Brussels, 9
“ “ Liszt, 5
“ “ Minine and Pojarsky, Russia, 27
“ “ the Heroes of the Franco-Prussian War, Berlin, 19
Pulpit, 10
Quintus Church, Mainz, 172
Scabbard Ornament, 40
Sculpture, Campanile of St. Mark’s, 57, 93
Sword Hilt, 37
Tower, 24
Turret, Rothenburg, Ger., 204
Verplanck Homestead, Fishkill, N.Y., 26
Waterspout, 90
Window at Ulm, 201

INDEX BY LOCATION.

[The figures refer to the number of the journal, and not to the page.]

Aberdeen, Scotland. Cathedral of St. Machar, 733 (Reg.)
“ “ Hall, Craigievar Castle, 743 (Imp.)
Albi, France. Interior of the Cathedral, 734 (Int.)
Angoulême, France. House of St. Simon, 735 (Int.)
Anniston, Ala. Anniston City Land Co. Building. Chisolm & Green, Architects, 734 (Reg.)
Arbroath, Scotland. Aberbrothwick Abbey, 732 (Reg.)
Balveny Castle, Scotland, 735 (Reg.)
Berlin, Ger. House-gable on Taubenstrasse. Herr Holst, Architect, 742 (Int.)
“ “ House on the Rauchstrasse. Kaiser & Grossheim, Architects, 741 (Int.)
“ “ House on the Yorkstrasse. Herr Rintz, Architect, 744 (Int.)
Birmingham, Eng. House near, Essex & Nicol, Architects, 743 (Int.)
Boston, Mass.:—
Building for the Boston Real Estate Trust, 744 (Reg.)
Design for an Office-building. C. H. Blackall, Architect, 734 (Reg.)
House of Mrs. Charles Blake. Sturgis & Cabot, Architects, 732 (Imp.)
“ “ W. A. Burnham. E. C. Curtis, Archt., 739 (Imp.)
Sketch of Store. Wait & Cutter, Architects, 732 (Reg.)
Brockenhurst, Eng. Black Knoll. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742 (Int.)
Bromley, Eng. Board School. Vacher & Hellicar, Architects, 739 (Int.)
Brookline, Mass. House of Capt. Jesse H. Freeman. W. A. Rodman, Architect, 738 (Reg.)
Brooklyn, N.Y. St. Augustine’s Roman Catholic Church Buildings. Parfitt Bros., Architects, 733 (Reg.)
“ “ Throop Avenue Presbyterian Church. Fowler & Hough, Architects, 742 (Reg.)
“ “ Vault, Greenwood Cemetery. Renwick, Aspinwall & Russell, Archts., 744 (Reg.)
Buda-Pesth, Austria. House of Herr Hatner. Alfred Wellisch, Architect, 744 (Int.)
Cambridge, Mass. High School. Chamberlin & Austin, Architects, 743 (Reg.)
Castle of Vincigliata, Italy. Kitchen. G. Fancelli, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Charleton, Eng. Parish Room and School. F. J. Commin, Architect, 739 (Int.)
Chatham, Eng. Holcombe. John Belcher, Architect, 735, 736, 738, 739 (Int.)
Chelmsford, Eng. Wrought-iron Gates, 732 (Int.)
Chester, Eng. New Premises. T. M. Lockwood, Architect, 737 (Int.)
Chicago, Ill. House of Julius Howells. Wm. H. Pfau, Architect, 740 (Reg.)
“   “ Houses for Potter Palmer. C. M. Palmer, Architect, 735 (Reg.)
Chislehurst, Eng. Butler’s Wood. Ernest Newton, Architect, 733 (Int.)
Cincinnati, O. Capitals from Chamber of Commerce. H. H. Richardson and Shepley, Rutan & Coolidge, Successors, Architects, 740 (Imp.)
“     “ House for Mrs. T. T. Haydock. J. W. McLaughlin, Architect, 743 (Imp.)
Clackmannan, Scotland. Castle Campbell, 739 (Int.)
Cleveland, O. House of Chas. F. Brush, George H. Smith, Architect, 742 (Imp.)
“     “ House of Mrs. S. T. Everett. C. F. & J. A. Schweinfurth, Architects, 735 (Imp.)
Concord, N.H. Chapel, St. Paul’s School. Henry Vaughan, Architect, 742 (Reg.)
Cranbrook, Eng. Mill Pond Farm. M. E. Macartney, Architect, 743 (Int.)
Detroit, Mich. Premises of G. G. Booth. Mason & Rice, Architects, 740 (Reg.)
Dinan, France. Street View, 736 (Int.)
East Providence, R.I. Town-hall. W. R. Walker & Son, Archts., 738 (Reg.)
Edgware, Eng. Chapel of St. Mary of Nazareth. James Brooks, Architect, 736 (Int.)
Elmira, N.Y. First Baptist Church. Pierce & Dockstader, Archts., 739 (Reg.)
Exeter, Eng. House at. James Crocker, Architect, 733 (Int.)
Falmouth, Eng. Church of All Saints. J. D. Sedding, Architect, 737 (Int.)
Felixstowe, Eng. The Gables. William A. Thorp, Architect, 740 (Int.)
Frome, Eng. Frome Union Offices. Drake & Bryan, Architects, 744 (Int.)
Gardiner, Me. Baptist Church. Stevens & Cobb, Architects, 737 (Reg.)
Goring-on-Thames, Eng. House. Geo. W. Webb, Architect, 740 (Int.)
Granada, Spain. Torre del Vino, Alhambra, 732 (Int.)
Greenville, N.Y. Cottage for Dr. T. H. Willard, Jr. Adolph Haak, Architect, 737 (Reg.)
Grimsby, Eng. Clee Park Hotel. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738 (Int.)
“   “ Railway Tavern. E. W. Farebrother, Architect, 738 (Int.)
Hackney Downs, Eng. Swimming-bath and Gymnasium, Grocers’ Company Schools. H. C. Bowes, Archt., 736 (Int.)
Hampstead, Eng. House of Edwin Long, R.A. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 734 (Int.)
Innsbruck, Austria. Interior of the Hofkirche, with Tomb of Maximilian I, 735 (Int.)
“     “ Villa Blanca, near. T. W. Deininger, Architect, 740 (Int.)
Karlstadt, Austria. House of J. Benic. Hans Pruckner, Architect, 743 (Int.)
Kearney, Neb. Block of Houses for E. K. Greene. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 741 (Reg.)
“   “ House of C. H. Elmendorff. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 737 (Reg.)
“   “ House of Geo. W. Frank. Frank, Bailey & Farmer, Architects, 743 (Reg.)
Kingston, Eng. Coombe Warren. George Devey, Archt., 732, 734 (Int.)
Leeds, Eng. Wesleyan Chapel. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 734 (Int.)
“  “ All Saints’ Church. R. Norman Shaw, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Lewiston, Me. School-house. Geo. F. Coombs, Architect, 735 (Reg.)
Linlithgow, Scotland. Dalmeny Church, 742 (Imp.)
Linz, Austria. Savings Bank. Austrian Building Co., Architects, 742 (Int.)
London, Eng.:—
All Saints’ Church. Christopher & White, Architects, 743 (Int.)
Business Premises.  Frederick Wallen, Architect, 738 (Int.)
Design for Church of the Good Shepherd. T. Phillips Figgis, Architect, 733 (Int.)
House, James Street, Buckingham Gate. R. T. Blomfield, Architect, 742 (Int.)
Los Angeles, Cal. Hall in House of W. R. Ray. W. Redmore Ray, Architect, 740 (Reg.)
“ “ “ High-School. J. N. Preston & Son, Archts., 738 (Reg.)
“ “ “ Memorial “Church of the Angels.” E. A. Coxhead, Archt., 733 (Reg.)
Lucca, Italy. Piers of the Cathedral Portico, 739 (Int.)
Malden, Mass. Competitive Design for the First Baptist Church. Lewis & Phipps, Architects, 740 (Reg.)
“ “ House. Chamberlin & Whidden, Architects, 738 (Reg.)
“ “ Interiors in House at. Chamberlin & Whidden, Architects, 738 (Imp.)
Mansfield, O. St. Luke’s Church. W. G. Preston, Architect, 744 (Reg.)
Memphis, Tenn. Design for Presbyterian Church. W. Albert Swasey, Architect. 742 (Reg.)
Minneapolis, Minn. Netley Corners. J. C. Plant, Architect, 744 (Reg.)
Minnetonka Beach, Minn. House of A. H. Stem. A. H. Stem, Architect, 741 (Reg.)
Morbihan, France. Château de Josselin, 733 (Int.)
“  “ Interior in the Château de Josselin, 732, 733 (Int.)
Nairn, Scotland. Cawdor Castle, 738 (Int.)
New Brunswick, N.J. Entrance-hall in House of Prof. C. E. Hart. H. R. Marshall, Architect, 736 (Imp.)
“ “ “ House of Prof. C. E. Hart. H. R. Marshall, Architect, 736 (Reg.)
New Haven, Conn. Osborn Hall. Bruce Price, Architect, 741, 744 (Imp.)
Newport, R.I. House of W. S. Wells. G. E. Harding & Co., Archts., 736 (Reg.)
New York, N.Y.:—
Competitive Design for the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.
Glenn Brown, Architect, 732 (Reg.)
Edward C. Casey, Archt., 736 (Int.)
Cram & Wentworth, Architects, 738 (Imp.)
Stephen C. Earle, Archt., 736 (Int.)
John L. Faxon, Architect, 736 (Int.)
B. G. Goodhue, Archt., 738 (Imp.)
J. R. Rhind, Architect, 743 (Imp.)
U.S. Trust Co.’s Building. R. W. Gibson, Architect, 734 (Imp.)
Normandy. Sketches in. By Herbert Railton, 739 (Int.)
Norton, Va. Sketch for Hotel at. Geo. T. Pearson, Architect, 734 (Reg.)
Norwich, Eng. Font and Canopy, St. Peter, Mancroft. Frank T. Baggallay, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Orange, N.J. House of J. R. Burnett. F. W. Beall, Architect, 743 (Reg.)
Paris, France:—
Auditorium of the Palace of the Trocadéro, 732 (Int.)
Central Dome of Exhibition Buildings,  740 (Reg.)
Ecole de Medecine, 741 (Int.)
New Bourse du Commerce. H. Blondel, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Painting by Puvis de Chavannes in the Grand Hall of the Sorbonne, 743 (Int.)
Palace of the Liberal Arts. J. C. Formigé, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Porte Cochère, 744 (Int.)
Tower, St. Etienne du Mont, 737 (Reg.)
Paterson, N.J. Sketch of Stable. C. Edwards, Architect, 735 (Reg.)
Pennfield, Pa. Alicia Springs Hotel. E. Culver, Architect, 738 (Reg.)
Poblet, Spain. Cloister, 737 (Int.)
Providence, R.I.:—
Competitive Design for Gymnasium for Brown University. Gould & Angell, Architects, 741 (Int.)
Competitive Design for Gymnasium for Brown University. Stone, Carpenter & Willson, Archts., 741 (Int.)
House of E. D. Pearce. Rotch & Tilden, Archts., 740 (Int.)
“ “ G. M. Smith. Stone, Carpenter & Willson, Architects, 733 (Imp.)
Old Iron and Brass Work, 737 (Reg.)
Quimper, France, Cathedral, 742 (Int.)
Reading, Eng. Church of St. John the Baptist. E. Prioleau Warren, Architect, 737 (Int.)
Ripon, Eng. Semi-detached Houses. T. Butler Wilson, Architect, 740 (Int.)
Rochester, N.Y. House of J. H. Howe. Nolan Bros., Architects, 736 (Reg.)
“   “ House of Albert Will. Otto Block, Architect, 735 (Reg.)
“   “ House on Portsmouth Terrace. W. C. Walker, Architect, 736 (Reg.)
Rome, Italy. Interior of St. Paul Extra Muros, 734 (Int.)
Ruxton, Md. House of C. De Lacey Evan. E. G. W. Dietrich, Architect, 734 (Reg.)
St. Andrews, Scotland. Churches of St. Regulus and St. Salvator, 734 (Imp.)
St. Paul, Minn. Houses for Dr. A. Wharton. A. H. Stem, Archt., 739 (Reg.)
Santiago, Chili:—
Congress Hall and Chamber of Deputies, 738 (Int.)
House of Mrs. Consino, 733, 734 (Int.)
“ “ Señor Cuda, 740 (Int.)
“ “ Mr. McKenna, 740 (Int.)
Interior of the Recoletu Church, 735 (Int.)
Official Residence of the Intendente, 734 (Int.)
Residence of the former Viceroy of the Province, 738 (Int.)
Street View, 736 (Int.)
Savannah, Ga. Hotel de Soto. W. G. Preston, Architect, 733 (Reg.)
Seamer, Eng. Church of St. Martin. C. Hodgson Fowler, Archt., 742 (Int.)
Shaftesbury, Eng. Hall, Coombe House, near. E. T. White, Archt., 736 (Int.)
Stockholm, Sweden. Warehouse. A. Egendomen, Architect, 735 (Int.)
Strasbourg, Germany. University. Prof. Worth, Architect, 741 (Reg.)
Sydney, N.S.W. Town-hall, 743 (Reg.)
Tonbridge, Eng. Hall Place. George Devey, Architect, 741 (Int.)
Toulouse, France. Renaissance Doorways, 737 (Reg.)
Trieste, Austria. Lloyds. Baron Heinrich von Ferstel, Architect, 740 (Int.)
Tunbridge Wells, Eng. House. George Devey, Architect, 741 (Int.)
Tuxedo, N.Y. Cottage at. Renwick, Aspinwall & Russell, Architects, 744 (Reg.)
Tweedmouth, Eng. Vicarage. F. R. Wilson, Architect, 744 (Int.)
Vienna, Austria. Grand Hotel. Carl Tietz, Architect, 741 (Int.)
“ “ Palace of Count Pallavicini. Herr Von Hohenberg, Archt., 743 (Int.)
Wakefield, Mass. Congregational Church. Hartwell & Richardson Architects, 744 (Reg.)
West Medford, Mass. Episcopal Church. H. H. Richardson, Architect, 737 (Imp.)
Yuste, Spain. Ruined Chapel of Charles V, 732 (Int.)

The American Architect and Building News.

Vol. XXVII.     
Copyright, 1890, by Ticknor & Company,
Boston, Mass.     No. 732.

Entered at the Post-office at Boston as second-class matter.

January 4, 1890.

[Pg 1]

That extraordinary phenomenon, which those who read
many newspapers sometimes encounter, of the inspiration
of two writers following tracks so closely parallel that
their effusions are word for word the same from beginning to
end, was recently to be observed in the case of the New York
Herald and the Pittsburgh Leader, which published on the same
day an article devoted to architects or, rather, to their incomes,
which held up these fortunate professional men as objects to
be envied, if not by all the world, at least by journalists,
many of whom have just now a way of writing about rich men
or women which suggests the idea that the journalist himself
was brought up in a jail, and sees nothing but the pockets of
those whom he favors with his attention. The present writers,
after half a column or so of rubbish about the grandeur of
American buildings, furnish the New York and Pittsburgh
public with the information that “there are in the city of New
York at least ten architects whose annual net income is in
excess of a hundred thousand dollars, while in Philadelphia,
Chicago, Boston and St. Louis there are quite as many who
can spend a like amount of money every year without overdrawing
their bank accounts.” This is certainly very liberal
to the architects, but what follows is even more so. “There
are,” we are told, in addition to the magnates just mentioned,
“hosts of comparatively small fry whose annual profits will pass
the fifty-thousand-dollar mark.” If an architect whose net
income is only a thousand dollars a week belongs to the
“small fry,” what name would these journalists have for the
remaining insignificant beings who practise architecture faithfully
and skilfully, and thank Providence sincerely if their
year’s work shows a profit of three thousand dollars? Yet,
with a tolerably extended acquaintance in the profession, we
are inclined to think that this list includes the greater part of
the architects in this country. As to the architects whose
usual income from their business is a hundred thousand
dollars, they are pure myths. The New York-Pittsburgh authority
mentions by name Mr. R. M. Hunt as one of them.
As a counterpoise to this piece of information, we will mention
what a worthy contractor once said to us about Mr. Hunt.
The builders were not, in those days, very fond of our venerated
President. He had altogether too many new ideas to
suit their conservatism, which looked with horror on anything
out of the common way. “The fact is,” said the contractor,
in a burst of confidence, “Mr. Hunt never could get a living at
all if he hadn’t a rich wife.” By averaging these two pieces
of misinformation, after the manner of the commissioners of
statistics, one may, perhaps, get some sort of notion of what a
very able and distinguished architect in New York, seconded
by skilful and devoted assistants, can make out of his business;
but men so successful are extremely rare exceptions in the
profession, and the “hosts” of “small fry” whose annual
profits amount to fifty thousand dollars, of course, do not exist.
It would be a waste of time to notice such ridiculous assertions,
were it not that they do a great deal of harm to the profession
and the public: to the profession by making people believe
that architects are combined to extort an unreasonable compensation
for their work; and to the public by spreading the idea
that the profession of architecture is just the one in which
their sons can become rapidly rich without much trouble. It
would be a useful thing to publish here, as is done in England,
the value of the estate left at their death by architects of distinction,
although in many cases this is greatly increased by
inheritance, by marriage, by fortunate investments or by outside
employment; but, if this should be done, it would be not
less useful to publish also a few true accounts of the early
trials and struggles of architects. How many of them have
we known who have given drawing-lessons, illustrated books,
designed wall-papers, supervised laborers, delivered lyceum-lectures
or written for newspapers, happy if they could earn
two dollars a day while waiting for a vacancy in the “hosts”
of architects with a thousand dollars a week income. How
many more, who were glad of the help of their faithful young
wives in eking out the living which had love for its principal
ingredient. And of those who have persisted until time and
opportunity have brought them a comparatively assured,
though modest position, how many have found their way to it
through architecture? If we are not mistaken, less than half
of the trained students in architecture turned out by our technical
schools are to be found in the profession six years later.
The others, ascertaining, on a closer view, that their expected
income of fifty thousand dollars a year is farther off than they
anticipated, and that fifty thousand cents is about as much as
they can expect for a good many years to come, drift away
into other employments, and some of them, no doubt, will be
much astonished to learn from the newspaper reporters what
they have missed.

We regret very much to hear of the death of Mr. George
F. Durand, Vice-President of the Canadian Society of
Architects; which occurred at London, Ontario, last
week. Mr. Durand was young in the profession, being only
thirty-nine years old, but was very widely and favorably known
among architects and the public, both in Canada and elsewhere.
He was a native of London, but after spending a short
time in the office of the city engineer there, he went to Albany,
N.Y., where he was employed by Mr. Thomas Fuller as his
chief assistant in the work on the new capitol, which was then
in Mr. Fuller’s hands. When Mr. Fuller was superseded, Mr.
Durand left Albany with him, and, after a year spent in Maine,
with a granite company, he returned to his native city, where
he soon found constant and profitable employment, having for
several years built a large part of the most important structures
in Western Ontario. The London Advertiser, to which we owe
most of our information as to his works, offers to his relatives
and friends the sincere sympathy of the public which it represents,
and we are sure that the architects of the United States
will join with their brethren in Canada in mourning the loss of
one who, at so early an age, had conquered for himself so conspicuous
a place in his laborious profession.

Some interesting experiments on concrete arches were made
recently, during the construction of the new railway station
at Erfurt. Some of the rooms were to be covered with
concrete floors, carried on iron beams, while others, of smaller
size, were intended to be spanned by arches extending from
wall to wall. One of the latter, something over seven feet in
width, was covered with concrete, flat on top, and forming on
the underside a segmental arch, the thickness of the material
at the crown of the arch being four inches, and about eleven
inches at the springing. The concrete was made of “Germania”
Portland cement, mixed dry with gravel, moistened as
required, and well rammed on the centring; and skew-backs
were cut in the brick walls at the springing line, extending two[Pg 2]
courses higher, so as to give room for the concrete to take a
firm hold on the walls. Fourteen days after completion, this
floor was loaded with bricks and sacks of cement to the amount
of more than six hundred pounds per square foot, without
suffering any injury, although, after the load was on, a workman
hammered with a pick on the concrete, close to the loaded
portion, so as to provoke the cracking of the arch if there had
been any tendency to rupture. In the other cases, the concrete
arches being turned between iron beams, the strength of the
floor was limited by that of the beams, so the extreme load
could not be put on; but the curious fact was established that a
section of concrete flat on top, and forming a regular segmental
arc beneath, was far stronger than one in which a portion of
the under surface was parallel to the upper; showing, apparently,
that the arched form, even with homogeneous concrete,
causes the conversion of a large part of a vertical pressure
into lateral thrust, reducing by so much the tendency of
the load to break the concrete transversely. This observation
is important theoretically as well as practically. It has been
of late generally maintained that a concrete arch is not an arch
at all, but a lintel, without thrust, and that the common form,
flat above and arched beneath, is objectionable, as it gives
least material at the centre, where a lintel is most strained.
The Erfurt experiments directly contradict this view, and it
remains for some students of architecture to render the profession
a service by repeating them, and, at the same time,
actually determining the thrust, for a given load, of arches of
particular forms. Until this is done, the concrete construction,
which is likely, we may hope, to become before many years the
prevailing one in our cities, will be practised with difficulty and
uncertainty, if not with danger. Incidentally, a trial was made
of the effect of freezing on the concrete. The floor of a room
arched in four bays, between iron beams, had just been finished
when the weather became cold, and on the morning after its
completion the thermometer stood at twenty above zero. The
concrete had not been protected in any way, and the contractor
was notified that it had been frozen, and must be removed.
This was early in December, and it was about the first of
April before the work of removal, preliminary to replacing the
concrete with new material, was begun. Three bays had been
wholly or partly removed when the hardness of the concrete
under the workmen’s tools attracted attention, and the arch remaining
intact was tested with a load of three hundred pounds
per square foot, which it bore perfectly.

The question how far an architect can be held responsible
in damages, in cases where the cost of work exceeds the
estimates, is examined in a recent number of La Semaine
des Constructeurs, and some considerations are mentioned which
are new to us. According to Frémy-Ligneville, the most
familiar authority on the subject, the architect incurs no
responsibility whatever, either for his own estimates or those
of other people, unless he intentionally and fraudulently misleads
his client by a pretended estimate. In this case, as in
that of any other fraud, he is liable for the results of his crime.
Except under such circumstances, however, the architect’s
estimate of cost is simply an expression of opinion, the correctness
of which he does not guarantee, any more than a lawyer
guarantees the correctness of an opinion, although important
interests may depend upon it. The owner can estimate the
value of the architect’s opinion, as of the lawyer’s, by the professional
reputation of the man who gives it, and, if he wishes
to be more secure, he can go to another architect, as he would
to another lawyer, for an independent estimate. Moreover, if
the owner of the projected building is still anxious that the cost
should be strictly limited to the sum estimated by the architects,
he can have a contract drawn by which the builder shall
be obliged to complete it for that sum, and can have his plans
and specifications examined by competent authority, to see if
they include everything necessary. This ought to make him
reasonably sure what his house will cost him, provided he does
not himself make changes in the plans or specifications. If he
has omitted to take this precaution, and, as his building goes
on, he finds that it is likely to exceed the estimate, he has
another excellent opportunity to protect himself, by ordering
immediately such changes in the plans and specifications for
the work yet remaining to be done as may reduce the expense
to the desired amount, and by doing so he generally suffers no
damage, as, if he does not get all he expected to for his money,
he gets all his money will pay for.

With all these opportunities for revising and testing the
correctness of an architect’s estimate, the man who
neglects to avail himself of any of them, and who allows
the work on his house to go on, after it has become evident
that it will cost more than the estimate, has, according to M.
Frémy-Ligneville, no claim against any one on account of his
disappointment. Of course, the architect should be as careful
in his estimates as his experience allows him to be, and any
conscientious man would try not to mislead a client, but both
he and his client must remember that when the tenders of the
builders themselves usually vary from fifty to a hundred per
cent for the same piece of work, an architect’s estimate cannot
be anything more than an opinion. Moreover, the architect
should not forget that, being an opinion, and not a guaranty,
he is not only at liberty to modify it as much and as often as
he sees fit, but is bound to do so, and to inform his client at
once of the change, when fuller information, or alteration in the
circumstances, shall show him that the original estimate is
likely to be exceeded. If he does this frankly, although his
client may be disappointed, he cannot reproach the architect
with trying to deceive him, and there will probably still be
time to make the changes necessary for reducing the expense
to the desired point. In a case decided in Paris in July, 1855,
a man was condemned to pay fifty-four thousand francs for repairs
done on a house. He proved that his architect had
estimated the expense at seven or eight thousand, but it was
shown that the architect had subsequently informed him that it
would be necessary to do more work than was at first contemplated,
and that he had made inquiries about the matter,
and had turned out his tenants so that the work might be done,
and had paid the contractors more than the sum originally
estimated; and the court thought he had no case at all against
the architect.

The great building firm of Peto Brothers, in England,
having been awarded a contract for a large public building,
have taken advantage of what, as they say, they consider a
favorable opportunity to initiate a system of profit-sharing with
their men, in accordance with a circular which is printed in the
Builder. The system described by the circular is very simple.
It is to apply for the present, only to the contract mentioned,
but, if it works well, will be extended to future cases. Under
the arrangement proposed one-quarter of the net profits of the
contract are, when the building is done and the accounts settled,
to be divided, as a bonus above their wages, among the men
who have worked on it, in proportion to the wages they have
earned. The conditions under which each man is entitled to his
share are that he shall have worked long enough on the contract
to have earned five pounds, at the regular rate of wages; that
he shall not have neglected his duty, or misconducted himself,
or wasted his time, or in other ways have acted so as to diminish
the profits of the contract, or injure the reputation of the firm
for good and honest work; and, that he shall not have engaged
in any strike for shorter hours, or for wages above the schedule
of wages which prevailed at the time the contract was made,
and upon which the contract price was based. That the workmen
may assure themselves of the fairness with which the
division is carried out they are invited by the circular to send a
representative to watch the making-up of the accounts by the
auditor of the firm, and to sign the balance-sheet. In order to
identify the claimants, every man must obtain a printed ticket
from the time-keeper, on beginning his work, countersigned by
the foreman, and noting the day and hour when his employment
commenced, with his name, number and wages. This is to be
again signed and countersigned when he leaves, and must be
produced to secure a share in the dividend. Unpretending as it
is, this bids fair to be one of the most interesting experiments
in social science yet tried, and unless the trades-unions in England
have forgotten their prowess, it will not be carried out
without a struggle. Our readers will remember Mr. Lewis H.
Williams’s experiences in trying a similar plan with his carpenters
in New York, and his final victory, but he had only one
union to contend with, and that not a very compact one, while
Messrs. Peto Brothers will have all the building trades about
their ears at once, and the great question whether men shall be
allowed to do only a fixed amount of work in a day, and that
amount as small as possible, or whether they shall be allowed
to work as they please, will be fairly brought before the parties
for decision.

[Pg 3]

THE APARTMENT-HOUSE.

From Building News.

Most people are willing to admit that they cannot afford to pay
over twice as much for a thing as it is worth; but few in this
country are aware that they do this very thing when they build
for themselves an independent city dwelling-house or pay a rent
equivalent to or greater than the interest on this outlay.

In the old country the secret of obtaining luxury and economy
combined in building has been learned, and rich and poor, fashionable
and unfashionable alike live in “flats.” In America, people
have not yet learned this lesson, but cling to the old and barbarous
custom of living perpendicularly in isolated towers, with all the cares
and worries that go with isolated management.

Figure 1.

Nothing shows more clearly than this, how much man is a creature
of habit. In his savage state, the nature of his existence necessitated
the isolated hut. As civilization advanced, however, the necessity
for, and enormous advantages of coöperation became evident, but
habit perpetuated the isolated dwelling long after the reasons for its
existence had disappeared, and it required centuries for civilized
men to learn that coöperation is an element as essential to perfection
in the arrangement of their habitations as it is in other things.

A given accommodation may be obtained in the form of a “flat” for
less than one-half the outlay required to obtain it in the form of an independent
dwelling built on the same land.

The form of comparison herein presented has never, to my knowledge,
been heretofore made, and the results are as surprising as they
are important and interesting.

The estimates of cost have been made by several competent contractors
on scale drawings and accurate specifications, are easily
verified and hence may be accepted as reliable.

Figure 1 is one of the plans of our apartment-house which is to be
built on the Back Bay, Boston.

Figure 2 shows the floor-plans of an independent house which
might be built on the same land. Both figures are drawn to the
same scale for convenience in comparing the dimensions. The independent-house
(which I shall, in contradistinction to the “flat,”
designate as the “tower” to mark its prominent point of difference
from the “flat” in form) contains a kitchen, pantry, furnace-room,
fuel-cellar, laundry, dining-room, china-closet, parlor, eight bed-chambers
provided with suitable closets, two bath-rooms, a trunk-room,
a front staircase extending from the first floor to the attic, and
a back staircase extending from the basement to the third floor.
What will these accommodations cost in this form and what in the
form of a “flat” in an apartment-house?

The apartment-house contains a public kitchen, steam-heating,
ventilating and electric-lighting isolated plants, fuel-cellar, laundry,
café, billiard-room, gentlemen’s smoking-room, ladies’ parlor, small
public dining-rooms, and eighty suites, averaging five rooms, a bath-room
and closets in each, and with a trunk or storage-room in
the basement for each suite; four elevators and four fireproof staircases
of iron and marble enclosed in brick walls from basement to
roof.

The suites are of different sizes to suit the proposed occupants, and
will have from two to twelve or more rooms of varying dimensions
as desired. They are partly “housekeeping” suites, i. e., having kitchens
and dining-rooms; partly “hotel” suites, i. e., having neither
kitchens nor dining-rooms, the occupants preferring to use the public
café and dining-rooms; and partly “semi-housekeeping” suites, i. e.,
having dining-rooms and china-closets with dumb-waiters connecting
them with the public-kitchen, but no independent kitchen. The
“housekeeping” suites require one more bed-room than the others,
to accommodate a private cook.

Assuming now at first in our comparison those conditions which
are least favorable to the apartment-house, we will take one of the
“housekeeping” suites, having precisely the same number and size
of rooms as we find in our independent house or “tower” and compare
costs.

The only difference in the accommodation in each case is that, in
the “flat,” the rooms are accessible to one another without the use
of stairs, while in the “tower” six flights of stairs in all are used,
constituting in the aggregate a ladder, as it were, of about a hundred
steps; also in the fact that in the “tower” the owner has to manage
his own heating, ventilating and hot-water supply apparatus, while
in the “flat” this work is done for him; that in the “tower” wooden
staircases and no elevators are used, while in the “flat” fireproof
staircases enclosing elevators are provided; that in the “tower” the
main partitions are often of wood while in the flat they are of brick a
foot thick and each “flat” is separated from its neighbor by a brick
wall a foot thick and all the floors are completely deadened against
the transmission of sound; and finally that in the “tower” no external
fire-escape is provided, while the “flat” has convenient
external fire-escapes of iron. Otherwise the accommodations are in
both cases precisely the same.

The total cost of this apartment-house, including the building-lot
valued at, say, $5 a square foot, has been carefully estimated at
$617,771.

This is the highest of two competitive estimates given by two
responsible builders, and comprises general cooking-plant, electric-lighting,
steam-heating and ventilating apparatus, iron staircases and
fire-escapes, elevators, copper roofing, architect’s commission, and, in
short, everything required for occupancy and use except wall-paper.

[Pg 4]
The first floor contains 16,688 square feet of available room. (By
“available” I mean room which is directly occupied by, and which
must be separately provided for each owner. That is, it excludes
staircases, furnace, laundry, etc., which might be used in common by
many owners and therefore need not be duplicated for each, and
which are only indirectly serviceable to each owner in contributing
to the usefulness of those which are directly enjoyed.) The six
floors above contain 23,288 square feet of available room each,
making a total of 156,416 square feet. Adding 10,880 square feet
for basement storage and trunk-room for the suites, and 2,000 square
feet in the basement for barber’s shop, apothecary, carriage and
other offices along the street fronts, we have a total of 169,296 square
feet of available room in the entire apartment-house. Dividing the
total cost $617,771 by this figure we have $3.65 for the cost of each
square foot of available room in the building.

Our “tower” measures twenty-five feet front on party lines, by
seventy feet deep. Its available rooms comprise parlor, library,
music-room, eight closeted-chambers, two bath-rooms, a trunk-room,
a dining-room, and we may add a kitchen for those who still believe
in having an independent cook.

The area of these rooms is as follows:

Making a total of 4,859 square feet of available room in the
“tower.” Its total cost on a twenty-five foot lot of the average
depth on the Back Bay, i. e., 112 feet, the land being valued as
before at $5 per square foot, would be at the lowest estimate $32,000
at the present prices, the wood finish being equally good with that in
the “flat.” If we figure, however, for the same style of lighting,
heating, ventilating and fireproofing, and provide an elevator and
outside fire-escape, the cost could not be put below $40,000.

The same amount of available space, i. e., 4,859 square feet in our
“flat” would cost at $3.65 per square foot as above estimated,
$17,735.

If now we consider that the management of a private kitchen and
an Irish cook does not actually constitute the essence of a home in
its broadest sense, but, that on the contrary, it really deprives a
home of its greatest charm, namely, peace of mind and rest of body,
the kitchen and the cook’s bed-chamber may be omitted from our
“flat” in view of the public kitchen. The area of our “flat” then
becomes 4,475 square feet, which, at $3.65 per foot, brings the cost
down to a little over $16,000.

Finally, if we omit the dining-room also, with its china-closet, our
area becomes 3,931 square feet, and the cost only $14,350 for the
“flat,” against $40,000 for the “tower,” the former being but little
over a third of the latter.

So much for the saving in the case of a large family and large
suite. For a small suite, such as would be required for a single
person, or a small family of two or three persons, the saving at once
mounts to a very much larger figure; so much so, indeed, as to
render the use of the isolated house in such cases a most inordinate
extravagance, except for the very rich. Thus a single person, or a
family of two or three, could be very comfortably provided for with
three or four rooms, and a bath-room in an apartment-house having a
good café. Estimating the rooms to measure 18 x 22 feet, their area
would be a little over 400 feet each, including closets, and their cost
$1,460 apiece; or for smaller rooms of, say, 14 x 15 feet, or 224
square-feet surface, the cost would be but $818 apiece. An isolated
dwelling, on the same land, of only eighteen feet frontage and fifty
feet deep, would cost, including the lot at $5 a foot, not less than
$18,000 or $8,000, without the land. Of course, in such an isolated
dwelling, electric-lighting, steam-heating, fireproof stairs, and other
luxuries of the “flat,” would hardly be expected.

By the arrangement of our apartment-house, there are twenty-four
corner-suites out of the eighty. These have direct sunlight on
either one or both of their exposed fronts, and may be estimated as
worth fifty per cent more than the rest. In other words, 3/10 of
the whole available room space is worth fifty per cent more,
and 7/10 correspondingly less than the average price of $3.65 per
foot. Therefore, $3.65 x 1-1/2 = $5.47 = price of corner-suites per
foot, 3/10 x the total area 169,296 square feet = 50,788 square
feet x $5.47 = $277,810, which, deducted from $617,771, leaves
$339,961 to represent the total cost of the remaining 7/10. The total
area 169,296 x 7/10 = 118,507 square feet of available space in the
inner-suites. Hence $339,961/118,507 = $2.86 as the price per square foot
of the inner-suites, or all suites which are not corner-suites.

Now, as our estimates on the “tower” were made on the basis of
its being an inner building in a block and not a corner-house, our
estimates for the “flat” should be on a basis of $2.86, instead of
$3.65, as taken. Therefore, our suite of 4,859 square feet would be
but $13,896 if the “flat” were any other than a corner one, and if
the public kitchen and café were used, it would be $11,242, or but a
little more than a quarter of that of the “tower!”

The foregoing figures are easily explained, and their correctness
verified by the following simple diagrams and considerations:

Figure 2.

In Figure 2 the shaded parts of the plans represent the unavailable
room which, under the apartment-house system, are rendered
unnecessary, and they are practically wasted. Thus the eighty
families, by uniting their eighty homes in one coöperative apartment,
save 156 staircases consisting of seventy-six front and eighty back
staircases, seventy-eight furnaces, seventy-nine laundries, etc., and
nearly all the space they occupy, and the land, foundation and roof
they represent.

Figure 3.

This waste space may be graphically shown by the diagrams in
Figure 3. The large black-and-white line represents the “tower,”
and the shorter the “flat.” The black part of each line denotes unavailable,
and the white part available room, the sum of the two
denoting the total cubical contents of each dwelling. The white
parts of the lines measure the same length in each case, because the
amount of available room in “tower” and “flat” is assumed at the
outset to be the same. Thus in the “tower,” the front and back
staircases and halls take up 22,000 cubic feet out of the total 106,000[Pg 5]
cubic feet covered by the entire building. In the “flat” the proportional
part of the halls and staircases for each suite is represented
by a comparatively insignificant quantity as shown.

Again, an enormous waste is shown in the flooring, roof and air-spaces
of the “tower,” while this item is but a trifle in the “flat.”
The six floors, each 16 inches thick, and the roofing make up together
in the “tower” 12,000 cubic feet, or nearly the equivalent of
an entire story. Add to this 12,000 cubic feet of air-space under the
roof and over the concrete, and we have in these items a waste of
24,000 cubic feet, against only 4,000 in the “flat.”

Thus we see that the waste space in the “tower” actually exceeds
the available. Yet it must be paid for at the same rate with the
latter. Deducting the waste in the “flat” from that in the “tower,”
we find the balance of waste space in the “tower” to be equal to
the available, showing graphically that the “tower” must cost, in
these items alone, just twice as much as the “flat.”

Figure 4.

Figure 4 shows a block-plan on a very small scale of the apartment-house,
and a block-plan on the same scale of 40 “towers”
adjoining each other, and having the same available space as the
apartment-house. These plans show how much more land is required
to give the same accommodations (minus the conveniences
and luxuries of an apartment-house) in the “tower” system than in
the “flat.”

The shaded portions in each block-plan represent the aggregate
of available room in each case. This shows very strikingly what an
enormous proportion of land and material is wasted in the “tower”
system.

In short, the possible saving in first cost for each family adopting
the “flat” system of building lies between $14,265 and $28,758,
making an aggregate saving for the 80 families occupying the apartment
of between one and two millions of dollars.

The annual running expenses are also greatly in favor of the
“flat” system when the advantages of coöperation are used to its
greatest extent.

Eighty independent Irish cooks give way to a professional chef and
half-a-dozen attachés. The wages and maintenance of the 80 cooks
would amount to an annual sum of not less than $40,000; those of
the chef and his assistants to hardly $10,000, making in this one
item a possible annual saving of $30,000.

The management of the 80 independent Irish cooks, if possible at
all, could only be accomplished by the constant struggle of 80
worried and largely inexperienced owners or their wives. The
management of the chef and his attachés could more easily be
managed by a single person, either selected from among the 80
families and suitably recompensed, or employed as a professional
manager at a regular salary. Or the entire control of the café, and
kitchen could be let out by contract to some suitable caterer, if
preferred.

Corresponding savings are evidently possible in every other department
of housekeeping, including steam-heating, ventilating,
laundry-work, lighting and elevator-work. In all of these particulars,
coöperation, judiciously conducted, has been shown to yield
surprising economies.

But there are other advantages even more important than its
economy in favor of the “flat.” Freedom from housekeeping cares has
already been touched upon. In the “tower,” life is spent in training
and treating with servants, mechanics and market-men. The
private cook is a volcano in a house, slumbering at times, but always
ready to burst forth into destructive eruption. True repose is out
of the question, and we are told that “the motive for foreign travel
of perhaps one-half of Americans is rest from household cares and
the enjoyment of good attendance, freed from any responsibility in
its organization and management.”

Security against burglary and fire is another. In a good apartment-house,
trained watchmen stand on guard night and day to
protect the occupants, and stand-pipes, hose and fire-buckets are
provided in all the halls, and kept in repair for emergency.

The family may leave their apartments for travel summer or
winter, knowing that their property is as secure as modern appliances,
system and ingenuity can make it. Not so with our isolated
dwelling. The cost of providing all these means of protection
is too great to make them practicable. The result is that the fear
of burglary and fire at all times causes uneasiness, particularly on
the part of the wife during the absence of her husband.

Beauty in the architectural arrangement of the rooms is a third
advantage of the “flat.” In this it has all the advantage of the
double house or residence of the immensely rich. The rooms may
be grouped in a manner which renders possible the highest architectural
effect, whereas in the “tower” the perpendicular arrangement
evidently precludes such opportunity by limiting the design to
a wearisome and monotonous repetition from basement to attic.

No argument can be sustained against the “flat” on the ground
of transmission of sound or want of privacy and isolation, for sound
may be as fully deadened as in the “tower” by means of the 12-inch
brick separating walls shown in our plan, and the most improved
deafening treatment of the floor-joists.

Isolation may be made complete in the “flat,” the private halls
and front doors of each suite being in every respect the equivalent
of those in the “tower”; the only difference being that with the
“flat” the outer world begins with the public hall and its elevator,
while with the “tower” it begins with the public street and its
horse-car.

Add to these advantages the possibility for a greatly enlarged
and delightful social intercourse which a properly arranged and conducted
apartment-house provides, and we have as near an approach
to the ideal of a human habitation as has yet been devised.

J. P. Putnam.

ARCHITECTURE IN BROOKLYN.

The city of Brooklyn has at last waked up to realize her size and
importance architecturally. Brooklyn, though growing very
rapidly and having many buildings of importance, has really had
very little good architecture, for the simple reason that the profession,
not being in any way organized, could not, as a rule, receive
the treatment due respectable architects. For this reason many young
men who would not be capable of practising elsewhere, have flocked
to this city, and by various methods, many of which are far from honorable,
have succeeded in getting control of most of the work. However,
we hope for better things.

The Brooklyn Institute some time ago decided to organize a Department
of Architecture, and for this purpose a meeting of architects
was called, which led to several more meetings and the attendance
at these was exceedingly hopeful for the new department, some
forty or fifty architects signifying their willingness to help along in
the work; finally a public meeting was held in the Institute on[Pg 6]
Friday December 13, at which some six or seven hundred persons
were present, and the Department was fully organized; the constitution
carefully thought-out at the previous meetings was adopted, and
the following list of officers chosen:

President, G. L. Morse; Vice-President, Louis De Coppet Berg;
Secretary, William B. Tubby; Treasurer, Gustave A. Jahn; Committee
on Current Work, Richard M. Upjohn, R. L. Daus and Louis
De Coppet Berg; Committee on Museum and Library, Walter E.
Parfitt, Pierre Le Brun; and Wm. Hamilton Gibson; Committee on
Competitions and Awards, R. L. Daus, D. E. Laub, Russell Sturgis;
Committee on Professional Practice, Walter Dickson, Albert F.
D’Oench, Richard M. Upjohn; Committee on Social Intercourse, H. P.
Fowler, Charles T. Mott and General Ingram.

During the necessary intervals of balloting, etc., the President, Mr.
George L. Morse, made a short address, setting forth the history of
the previous meetings, and congratulating the local architects on the
prospect of having a strong and well-organized society.

Mr. Louis De Coppet Berg, of the firm of J. C. Cady & Co., Architects,
then addressed the meeting as follows:—

The meeting was also addressed by the Rev. Dr. Chas. H. Hall,
President of the Associate Members. He spoke at great length and
kept his audience intensely interested by describing his own acquaintance
with architecture, beginning with the original negro
log-house down South, then the prim buildings of old Andover and Harvard,
and finally how he saw the great former St. Ann’s of Brooklyn,
the likeness of which, he said, could be seen any day on the piers of
New York when they were unloading dry-goods boxes; and how he
finally went abroad and saw the beautiful architecture of Paris, which
he could not praise enough. He was also unstinted in his praise of
the modern beauty and architecture of Washington. He also spoke
of his visits to London, and, while he admitted that Englishmen
thought their architecture beautiful, he took exception, and claimed
that the great St. Paul’s, though beautiful to the English eye, was a
cold barren building, blacked with smoke inside and out, a place where
you could not be comfortable, nor hear the speaker at any distance.
We regret that we are not able to give a verbatim account of his
witty address.

At the end of Dr. Hall’s address, the lecturer of the evening,
Professor Russell Sturgis, architect, of New York, addressed the
meeting as follows, his subject being “The Study of Architecture,”
with particular reference to the architecture of to-day.

ADDRESS OF MR. RUSSELL STURGIS.

With regard to architecture and all the arts of decoration, there
is a strange difference between the practice of them, and such study
as looks toward practice, on the one hand, and the history and theory
of them, with such study as that involves, on the other. Quite completely
are these two studies separated, each from the other. A man
may be most active and successful as a practising designer, and successful
in an artistic way, too, with no knowledge and little thought
of the history of his own branch of art, and with little curiosity as
to its philosophy or its poetry. And, on the other hand, a man may
be a very earnest student, and a happy and delighted student of the
history and criticism of art, and know nothing, and care as little,
about the profession or practice of any art, or about studio ways and
studio traditions. I do not know that in any branch of human study
this distinction is so marked and so strong. This is to be regretted,
for many reasons, but it can hardly be done away with so long as the
community is generally careless of both the theoretical and the practical—so
long as the students and the practitioners alike feel themselves
nearly isolated units, floating in a sea of good-humored indifference.
This state of things only time can alter. Only time can
civilize our new community in intellectual and perspective matters;
but there are some other conditions which are more immediately in
our power to modify, perhaps—let us see:

It is as true as if it had not been repeated, even to fatigue and
boredom, that the arts of decoration have been in a bad way for a
good part of the century past, at least among some European and
Europeanized nations. I do not imagine that a Frenchman would
admit that architecture and the arts of decoration had ever languished
in his own society. Your cultivated Frenchman would say
that some periods were better than others, but that there were no
bad periods; he would say that, to be sure, the style of the First
Napoleon’s Empire was not a very fortunate style,—too stiff, too
absurdly pseudo-classic, unworthy of France, a poor enough successor
of the dainty and playful art of Louis XV, or the somewhat
more refined and restrained art of Louis XVI: but he would say
that it was art still, and the period a not wholly inartistic period;
and even of the dull times of the Napoleon of Peace, from 1830 to
1848, while he would confess to a great deal of languor and lack of
public spirit of all sorts, except in the struggle which the Romantic
artists, headed by Delacroix, waged with the Classicists, headed by
Ingres; while he would admit that the abundant wood-cuts and lithographs,
the painting and statues much less abundant even in proportion,
and the buildings very few and unimportant, were not sufficient
to make up a great artistical epoch, that is, for France; yet as for
its being an epoch without art,—such a thing as that, he would say
France had not known since she was France. And he would be
right.

But if said of England it would be pretty nearly true, if it were
said that the whole amount of art of the decorative kind that existed
in England between 1810 and 1850, for instance, would fill but a
small museum, and that its quality would fill but slight requirements,
it would require a bold Anglophil to contradict. There came a dull
pall, like that of her own black fogs, over social London, and the
stucco-fronted languors of Baker Street and Portland Place are no
worse than were the dull monotony of the interiors behind them.
Veneered and polished mahogany furniture, very much too large and
too heavy for the rooms; black haircloth, like the grave clothes of
Art, for the covering of everything that could be sat upon; cold,
brownish-red curtains, of shiny but not lustrous material; silver candlesticks
of monstrous design,—these, and such as these, were the
decorative objects which our fathers or our grandfathers admired, or
felt that they must admire for want of better, during the unhappy
years that I have cited. The delicate carvings that the furniture of
a generation just previous had received, were forgotten. People put
up with Chippendale chairs in their dining-rooms because they had
belonged to their fathers and nothing special was offered to take their
place; but there is no record that they cared for them. The richer
and more fantastic carvings of Grinling Gibbons had never obtained
any general recognition nor availed to modify the woodwork of the
domestic interiors of England. The brocades and flowered silks
which the eighteenth century had revelled in, and if in England not
strong enough artistically to produce them itself, had brought into
England from other lands;—these were replaced by the dismal[Pg 7]
things I have alluded to, and no vestige of them seems to have
remained in the parlors of that unhappy time.

Richness of costume had disappeared with the wars of the French
Revolution. Embroidered silk coats had given place gradually to
claret-colored and blue broadcloth, and this gave place to black,
and all variety in costume had disappeared completely; and now, from
1810 to 1850, fantastically varied and interesting house-furnishing
and decoration had followed, as I suppose it inevitably must follow;
costume, being, one fears, a necessary part of anything like a prosperous
artistic epoch.

Out of this gloomy depression the Anglo-Saxon world, in England
and in this country, is trying to emerge. It began its efforts with
the perfectly natural conviction that by studying the artistic history
of the past, something could be done to benefit the arts of the present.
The Gothic revival, which you have heard of so much, and which
was followed with real ardor and with unquestioning zeal by crowds
of devotees for years, beginning with, perhaps, 1840, was an attempt
along the most obvious lines,—along what seemed to be the line of
least resistance, to change the metaphor. To develop anew an old
art, which had flourished so greatly in the past,—how easy! and
how certain! How certain were the enthusiasts of that time, that
by earnestly poring over and closely analyzing and heartily loving
the buildings of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, such buildings,
and others like them, could be built in the nineteenth! How
happy was the conviction of all these men that it was not more difficult
than that! The secret of what had been done was to be found
in the phenomena themselves. There, in this parish church, in this
cathedral, lay the secret of their charm. Let us analyze first, they
said, and let us put together again the ingredients that our analysis
shall have discovered, and we will re-create the thing that we are in
search of.

In like manner, in the minor arts, the people of 1850 felt, or
some of them did, that they did not know how to weave curtains
that it was worth any one’s while to hang up, except to shut out the
light and shut in the warmth; that so far as beauty of texture,
beauty of pattern, and beauty of color went, they were powerless to
produce anything of any avail. But they saw that the Venetians of
the sixteenth century and the Florentines of the seventeenth century
and the French of the eighteenth century had produced splendid
stuffs; and although there were no museums in those days that
condescended to anything so humble, such stuffs were still to be
bought of the bric-à-brac dealers, and very cheap, too, and still
existed, rolled up in some old garrets. By studying them, surely the
art of making others like them could be learned. And so around
the whole circle of the arts of decoration, it was believed, and in
thoroughly good faith, and with, as it seemed, perfectly good reason,
that the study of what had been would suffice, with zeal and patience
and good will, to the production of what should be.

Well, the experiment has failed. Archæology is the most delightful
of pursuits, but it is not particularly conducive of good art. The
German professor, who knows the most about Phidian sculpture, is as
far as his youngest pupil from being able to produce anything
Phidian, but, of course, this is not a fair example. The German
professor does not profess to be a sculptor. Let us say then, that
that sculptor now alive who knows the most, theoretically and historically
about Greek art, is as far as his most ignorant contemporary
and rival from having Greek methods of work. This is a safe proposition.
I do not know who he is, nor can any one tell me. It is not
a question of men, but of principles. The study of the monuments
of art is one thing, their analysis, their criticism, their comparison,
is one of the most attractive, the most fascinating, the most stimulating,
the most absorbing of studies, one that I shall never cease commending
in the most earnest way to all those persons to whom scholarship
is dear and to whom it is a question of recommending a study
which is worthy of their most earnest and hearty devotion, but it is
not the study of practical art, that is another and a very different
thing.

The way to make good sculpture is to let the youth thumb and
punch and dabble in wet clay, and see what he can make of it; and
the way to make a painter is to give the boy now a burnt stick, and
at another time a pin and a back of a looking-glass, and see what he
can delineate with such materials as these and with all other materials
with which a line can be drawn. To look at the world, and what
it contains, and to try and render what is suggested to him,—that
is the training for the artist, and it has more to do with our beloved
study of archæology than if they were not concerned with the same
subject. This, I say, has been proven. Sad experience, the waste of
forty years of work, disappointment and despair, have taught some
of our artists what others did not need to learn,—that the way to
succeed was not through study of the past. The artist has no primary
need of archæological knowledge; the archæologist has no need of
any fact that the artist can furnish him with.

Suggestions; yes! Each side can furnish the other with suggestions
in abundance, and suggestions which each can immediately profit by.
An able artist, if a fellow of modesty and frank speech, can hardly
talk without giving the student of the theory of art hints which the
latter should study over at home before he sleeps upon them; for
the secret of much that is vital and essential in his study is to be
found in these hints; and on the other hand, I imagine that an artist
would be better off, and have more play of mind, and readier and
fresher conceptions, if he would now and then listen to what the student
of old art has to tell him about what is to be observed in this or
that monument of the past. But beyond that there is no connection
between them. I will run two ateliers side by side, one for archæologists,
and one for practical students of architecture and they need
never mix.

This will be more readily admitted, perhaps, in the case of the
arts of expression than in the case of arts of decoration and let us define
these terms. If you will allow me, I will quote from an address
delivered a year ago before the New York Architectural League.
Any work of art whose object is to explain and express the thing
represented, or to convey the artist’s thought about the thing represented,
is art of representation, or, if you please, art of expression,
or if you please, expressional art. I offer these as nearly synonymous
terms. But if, on the other hand, the work of art has for its object
the adornment of a surface of any sort, as a weapon, a utensil, an
article of costume, and if the natural objects represented or suggested
are used only as suggestions to furnish pretty lines and pleasant tints,
which lines and tints might have been after all represented apart from
the object were man’s mind more creative than it is,—that is art of
decoration.

Now, architecture, you see, is primarily an industrial affair, a
method of covering men in from the rain, and admitting light into
their protected interiors, and of warming those interiors, and in a few
rare cases of ventilating them, and in providing a variety of apartments,
communications, and the like for the varied requirements of a
complicated existence; and it need not put on any artistic character
at all. But as architecture becomes a fine art, it is perforce one of
the arts of decoration. It has nothing to do with the arts of expression.
Mr. Ruskin and all his life work to the contrary, notwithstanding,
the business of building is not to tell tales about the world and
its contents, not to set forth the truths of botany or of zoology, or of
humanity, or of theology. If zoological or botanical or human objects
are introduced, or representations of them, it is not for the sake of
information that can be given about these interesting things, nor for
the sake of expressing the artist’s mind about them, nor for the sake
of saying anything whatever in regard to them. It is for the sake of
making the building beautiful. When the Oxford Museum stood
presenting to the street a flat-fronted wall, diversed with pointed
arches, and carvers were set to work bands of rich sculpture around
the windows; although Mr. Ruskin had a great deal to do with that
edifice, and architects of his own choosing were in charge of it, and
clever Irish workmen of his own approval were producing the interesting
carvings of those archivolts and tympanums, in spite of all
theories, the object aimed at and the object attained by that outlay
of time and money and skill was the beautifying of the building, and
this was achieved to an extent probably beyond what its planners
proposed to themselves, for the effect of well-applied sculpture upon
a building is beneficial to an extent that would never be believed by
one who has not often watched the changes that can be wrought in
this way. They who have said that the Gothic Cathedral is nothing
but a work of associated sculpture are not far wrong, and to produce
a lovely building, one would rather have the blankest malt-house or
brewery in New York, and some good carvers set to work upon it,
than to have the richest architectural achievement of our time, devoid
as it is and must be of decorative sculpture. For to get decorative
sculpture, you must have your sculptors; and they, you know,
are wanting. Where are the men who will model capitals and panels
in clay, with some sense of ornamental effect? We have the men who
can make a copy in relief of an architect’s drawings: but then the
architect, even if he have the sense of ornamental effect, in the first
place can never draw out, full size and with care, all the work required
in a rich building, and, in second place, can never design
sculptured form aright by mere drawings on the flat. The architects
of New York and Brooklyn are employing today, I suppose, 3,000
draughtsmen, of which number two or three hundred at least are engaged
most of the time in making large scale and full-size drawings
of architectural detail, in which sculpture plays a large part. Well,
we need as many modellers, who, either in architects’ offices, or in
stone-cutters’ yards and terra-cotta works, shall be putting into tangible
form the dreams and thoughts of the designer’s brain. “As
many,” do I say? Once it is found that architectural sculpture can
be got promptly and cheaply, and conveniently, it is not 200 modellers
only that this big community around the big bridge will need;
but architects will engage three or four or a dozen at a time, as they
now engage draughtsmen when big jobs come in.

For so the relative success and power today of the arts of expression
seem to assure us. When we come to look into the subject, we
find that modern life, which finds its expression freely in prose and
in verse, and to a slight extent in music, finds some expression also
in those arts which deal with expression. It is perhaps not a great
artistic epoch that we are living in, although, if some one were to rise
by and by, and maintain that it was, I would not be sure that he was
wrong. It is certainly a kind of novel and in many ways admirable
art in the way of expression. Great thoughts have found expression
almost worthy of them in painting, in sculpture, in etching, in wood-engravings,
in color and in black-and-white; in the single costly work
of art and in the easily multiplied and cheap productions of the press.
It is true that in these the thoughts are not always worthy of the expression
they receive. This is partly because we have nearly lost
the desire of talking about our religious beliefs in line and color and
modelled form, and that no other subject of equal universal interest
has taken the place of the ancient, simple and popular theology.

Patriotism, as shown in scenes of battle and pictures of deeds of[Pg 8]
gallantry and self-sacrifice; poetry, as seen in pictures which suggest
sweet thoughts of young love and of home affections and of
childish grace; the love of wild nature, as seen in our school of
landscape art, now nearly fifty years old and flourishing—none
of these nor all of them together have quite replaced the priestly
theology of the Middle Ages as a subject for art, for none are quite
so universal or appeal quite so readily to the untutored eye and
mind. And so the uniform is better painted than the soldier very
often, and the outside of nature than her inward spirit, and the flesh
of the baby or the golden hair of the girl better than the baby
nature or the girl nature in each instance. But this is to be stated
merely as a drawback from praise which would otherwise be too unmeasured
and too universal. The world contains a vast amount of
good art of very recent date, and every year adds to the amount.
The worst thing that can be said of the time is that it should be
capable of producing so incalculably great an amount of bad art at
the same time; that the walls of the Paris Salon should be so hung
with inferior work every year that the important pictures are lost in
chaos; and that, while this is true of the Salon, it is true to an immeasurably
greater degree of the Royal Academy, of the New York
Academy and every other exhibition in the world, except where a
selected few paintings hang on reserved walls.

And as for sculpture, that is to say expressional sculpture, it is
even more true in this case that the poor works terribly outnumber
the good ones, though this is less noticed and makes less impression
on the public. Our English-speaking communities do not even think of
sculpture as a thing to look to for any refined enjoyment. How far the
labors of a dozen living men, all Frenchmen but two or three, may
have sufficed during the past score of years to change the public mind
in this matter, I am not ready to say; but, surely, it has not been the
general thought that sculpture is anything more than an expensive and
perfunctory way of doing one’s duty to a great occasion or a great
man. This, however, is temporary. The good sculpture exists and
will be recognized. So much for expressional art.

But, as for the arts of decoration, once more, there is not so much
to be said. As yet the way to subdue technicalities and enthrone design
has not been discovered. The way to produce beautiful
buildings is known to none. The way to produce good interior
decoration, good furniture, good jewelry, beautiful stuffs, has only
been seen by here and there one, and his lead no one will follow.
The fact of his having done a fine thing, or of his doing fine things
habitually, acts not as an attraction to others, but as a warning to
them to keep off. Every artist strives to do, not as his neighbor
has done, and better, but as his neighbor has not done. The potteries
work no better, because of one pottery which turns out
beautiful work. The wall-paper makers still copy, slavishly from
Europe and Japan, fortunately if they do not spoil in copying, in
spite of the occasional production of a wall-paper which an artist has
succeeded in. The carpet-weavers caricature Oriental designs by
taking out of them all movement and spirit, while their best
customers buy the original rugs. If some rich man were to make a
museum of modern decorative art, from which he would carefully exclude
all that which was not in some way fresh and intelligent, and
if not good, at least promising, a room like this one would hold all his
trophies, even though he should use his millions to ransack Europe and
America. It is nobody’s fault, least of all is it the architect’s fault.
For see what you expect of an architect. He must know about
digging deep holes; and about sheath-piling, that he may retain the
loose soil and keep it from smothering the workmen at the bottom of
his excavation; and he must know the best machines to use for drilling
rock and the best method for removing it; he must know about
all the stones in the country and the best way of making concrete;
he must be familiar with the thousand new inventions, and discriminate
carefully and rightly between this range and that, and
between this form of trap and the other, between a dozen different
steam-heaters and twenty systems of ventilation; he must be prepared
to give his owners exactly what they want in the way of windows and
chimney-corners, of cupboards, shelves in available corners, and recesses
to put away step-ladders and brooms. But observe that if he
fails in any one of these things, he will fail in that which his owner really
cares about; still more, if he fails in the economical administration
of the funds allowed for the building, will he fail in that which the
owner most cares about. Less beauty, less success in producing a
novel, an original, a thoughtful, a purposeful design will hurt him
but little, but insufficient care as to the circulation of hot-water will
ruin him.

Now, no man can do all that, and still produce delicate and
thoughtful designs. No man can be busy laying out work, superintending
work, explaining to contractors and reasoning with
employers, and still be producing delicate and thoughtful designs. An
extraordinary fellow here and there may surprise us by what he
does under such circumstances, but it will be but little and feeble in
comparison with what he might do. The community must see its
way to paying some to eschew plumbing and stick to design, if they
mean to have any design. This has been done, indeed, in the matter
of monumental-glass, and to a certain extent in wall-decoration by
means of painting; but it must be done in what is more vital yet—in
architectural sculpture of all sorts and all grades; of vegetable,
animal and human subjects; in low relief, in high relief and in the
round; in detached work and associated groups—or no architecture
for us. I say, then, that as things are constituted, the architects
are not particularly to blame for not having achieved much in
the way of decorative art, either on the exteriors of their great buildings
or in the beauty of their interiors. Not much to blame; but
yet they are so far to blame as that no one else is to do this work
if they do not. The architects and the artists who are associated
with them in the work of supplying us with what we call decorative
arts of all sorts, form the only class of the community to whom the
rest of the community can look to for advancement in this direction.
It is probable, then, that what such an associate has to do is two-fold;
or rather it has two things to do: One is to study the beautiful
art of the past, and to study it patiently and lovingly, feeling confident
of this that the interests of the pursuit grow more absorbing
every day; and the other is to watch the arts of the present, and to
keep an open and perspective mind with regard to them, feeling
sure of this that they will grow more complex and interesting every
day, and that now and again some chance of something good will
appear, here and there, giving us great opportunities to help, if we
are clever enough to perceive them.

The study of the arts of the past is more entrancing every day
because we are so much better informed, because we are daily better
informed about them. Archæology, having gone through a long
apprenticeship, is doing wonders today; and, although ancient buildings
are suffering from the accursed restorer, they are also more
thoroughly known, more rightly judged, more sympathetically
analyzed than ever before; while monuments other than buildings,
those, that is, that are not open to the attacks of the restorer, are
preserved in practical safety, and they also are minutely and
honestly studied in a way of which our ancestors knew nothing.
There is, therefore, more pleasure to be got out of the study of
ancient art today than ever before, and that condition of things is a
permanent one. Our children will have even better opportunities
than we.

And, as for the arts of the present, the arts that are being produced
around us, they are to be looked at as calmly and temperately;
with, on the other hand, as little as possible of that
provincial which makes cathedrals out of carpenters’ Gothic
churches, and, on the other hand, without carping, but with good-natured
patience, with a feeling that if things are not very good, they
can hardly be expected to be better; that we, in this country at
least, are only half-civilized in the ways of cultivation, and we do
uncommonly well for such babes as we are in literature and art.
With patience then, and with impatience about nothing but this,
that we deny ourselves the study of the great works of art of
Europe and Asia by thirty per cent and forty per cent and sixty per
cent duty, and deny to the author all proper remuneration for his
work by the lack of common honesty. No other nation of European
blood does these things. It is not a matter of politics. No protectionists
so ardent in the Bismarck ranks as to propose to levy a tax
on literature and science. No selfish grabber so small, even among
peoples whom we consider less honest than we, who approves of
stealing an author’s books under color of the law. While we send
to Washington Congressmen who keep such laws on the statute-books,
our community is not “barbarous” so much as savage; for
such acts are the acts of savages; that is, of men who have no
reasonable motive for their acts, but act impulsively, like grown-up
children.

And now, after this evening, let us return from theory and
general principles, to practice and details, and see whether we can
find out how it is that Indians combine color, how Japanese use
natural form decoratively, how Chinamen make porcelain lovely and
noble; how Greeks of old time have sculptured and Frenchmen have
created Gothic architecture, and Italians have raised painting to the
highest heaven of achievement. There is happiness, if study can
give it. And for those to whom scholarship is less attractive than
action and production, there is sculpture in small and large, in
stone, marble, terra-cotta, wax, clay, plaster, bronze, iron, lead, gold
and silver; there is inlay of all material and styles, from square tiles
to minute glass tesseræ; there is painting with all known vehicles
and of all sorts; the whole to be devoted to the beautifying of buildings
in which we have to live and work and rest. There is a plenty
to do for those who know how to begin.

To Protect Plate-glass in Building.—Passing along Dearborn
Street, recently, I saw a crowd watching closely the placing in
position of some enormous panes of glass in a handsome new building.
The glass was the best French plate, and the workmen handled it as
carefully as if it were worth something more than a week’s wages.
The task of putting it in place was no sooner completed than one of
the workmen grabbed a pot of whiting and with a big brush daubed a
lot of meaningless marks on it. I thought it about as silly a thing as
a man could do, and with the usual reportorial curiosity asked the foreman
why he allowed it. The answer was a crusher. “Why,” said he,
“we have to mark them in that way or they’d be smashed in no time.”
My look of amazement doubtless prompted him to further explanation,
for he said: “You see, the workmen around a new building get in the
custom of shoving lumber, etc., through the open sash before the glass
is put in. They would continue to do it even after the glass is in if we
didn’t do something to attract their attention. That’s the reason you
always see new windows daubed with glaring white marks. Even if a
careless workman does start to shove a stick of timber through a costly
plate of glass he will stop short when his eye catches the danger sign.
That white mark is just a signal which says, ‘Look out; you’ll break
me if you are not careful.’”—Chicago Journal.

[Pg 9]

THE STRUCTURE OF SANDSTONE.[1]

AS AFFECTING ARCHITECTURAL AND ENGINEERING WORKS.

The native stones we Liverpool architects have at command are
all sandstones belonging to the geological division called the
Trias, or, in older phraseology, the “New Red Sandstone,”
which lies above the coal-measures. The term “New Red” was
given to distinguish these rocks from the “Old Red,” which lies below
the Mountain Limestone, the lowest division of the carboniferous
rocks. It is, perhaps, needless to remark that the “New Red” is
not always red; sometimes it is yellow, at others, like some of the
Storeton stone, white. These red rocks occupy a large part of Lancashire
and Cheshire, and especially in the latter county give the
characteristic scenery which distinguishes it. The escarpment of the
Peckforton Hills of which Beeston Castle Hill is an outlier, and that
at Malpas, farther south, gives rise to some very beautiful scenery;
and again at Grinshill and Hawkstone, in Shropshire, we have a
repetition of much the same kind of landscape. It will be necessary
for my purpose to say briefly that these red rocks have been divided
into the “Bunter” and “Keuper”; the lower division, the Bunter,
occupying most of the ground about Liverpool; the upper, the Keuper,
being more developed on the Cheshire side. All these sandstones
are not fit for building purposes, and those that are so used
differ considerably in their durability. It is my object in this short
Paper to show upon what the perfection or imperfection of the various
stones for building purposes depends—a matter of great moment
to an architect or engineer who is desirous that his work should last.

Sandstones, or, in masons’ language, “free-stones,” from the freedom
with which most of them are worked when freshly taken from
the quarry, are plastic or sedimentary rocks. That is, they are composed
of separate particles which have once existed as sand, like that
we see on our own shores, or in the sand dunes of Hoylake or Crosby.
Sandstones are usually more or less laminated, and are stronger
to transverse stress at right angles to their natural bedding than in
any other direction, a fact recognized in every architect’s specification,
which states “all stones must be laid on their natural bed,” a
direction that unfortunately sometimes begins and ends in the specification.
The cause of the superior strength is not, however, generally
understood.

I have devoted some considerable time to an investigation of the
internal structure of sandstones, which I have communicated from
time to time to various scientific societies and publications, and will
now briefly explain it in a manner I judge will be most likely to interest
architects and engineers. The particles or grains of which the
rock is built up are of various forms and sizes, from a thoroughly
rounded grain, almost like small shot, to a broken and jagged structure,
and to others possessing crystalline faces. These grains, most
of them possessing a longer axis, have been rolled backwards and
forwards by the tides or by river-currents. The larger grains naturally
lie on their sides when freshly deposited, with their axes in
the plane of bedding; the smaller and more rounded particles naturally
tend to occupy the interstices between the others, and in this
way rude divisional planes or laminations are formed. Each layer
forms a sort of course like coursed-rubble in a wall, and by the necessities
of deposition a certain rude geometric arrangement results,
by which the particles of the future rock overlap each other, and
thereby gain what is known to architects as bond.

But, so far, this is only like “dry walling,” the mass wants cementing
together to make it solid. The cementing process happens in
this way in our rocks, which are almost purely silicious: Water containing
a minute quantity of carbonic acid in solution, which most
rain-water does, especially when it comes into contact with decaying
vegetation, has the power of dissolving silica to a slight extent.
This is proved in various ways, and is shown in the fact that all river
water contains more or less silica in solution.

The circulation of water through the sand deposit of which our
rocks are made dissolves part of the grains, and the silica taken up
is redeposited on others. I cannot explain the chemical reaction
that produces this deposition, but that it takes place in the rock during
some period of its history is certain. I exhibit a quartzite pebble
taken from the Triassic sandstone at Stanlow Point, which, as can
be easily seen, was at one time worn perfectly smooth by attrition and
long-continued wear, for the quartzite is very hard. Upon this worn
surface you will see spangles and facets which reflect the light, and
on closer inspection it will be evident that they are crystals of quartz
that have been deposited upon the surface of the worn pebble after
it became finally enclosed in the rock.

A microscopic examination of the granules of the rock itself will
show that many of them have had crystalline quartz deposited upon
their surfaces, and in some cases rounded grains have in this way
become almost perfect crystals.

An examination of the best sandstones for building purposes shows
that they possess more of these crystalline particles than the inferior
ones, and a good silicious sandstone shows its good quality by a fresh
fracture sparkling in the sun. In addition to these crystalline deposits
of silica I believe it exists also as a cement which binds the particles
together when in contact.

It certainly is, however, with this secondary silica that the original
sand has become a building stone, and the particles have become interlaced
and bound together. Thus, in building parlance, the grains
are the rubble of the wall, the currents the quarrymen, masons and
laborers, and the silicious infiltration the mortar.

And now, when I am on the subject, I may point out that this hard
and compact quartzite pebble was also once loose sand. The only
difference between the sandstone in which it was imbedded and itself
is that in the latter case the process of silicious deposit has gone further,
so that all the interstices between the grains have been absolutely
filled up with the cement.

It is not possible to see this clearly with the naked eye, but by the
aid of a slice of the rock prepared for the microscope the granular
structure of the quartzite is made perfectly plain. So much for the
mechanical, chemical, and molecular structure of sandstone, all of
which affect the strength and quality of the stone; but to architects
there is another element of consequence, namely, the color. The rich
red of our Triassic sandstones is due to a pellicle of peroxide of iron
coating each of the grains. That this is merely surface coloring is
shown by the fact that hydro-chloric acid will discharge the color and
leave the grains translucent. Unfortunately the most brilliantly colored
stone is not the most durable, and it so happens that these brilliant
red sandstones are often composed of exceedingly rounded
grains. Also some of the very red sandstone has an interfilling of a
loose argillaceous irony matter detrimental to the stone as a building
stone. The most durable of the red sandstones are those having a
paler or grayer hue, like those of Woolton, Everton, and Runcorn.
This distinction of color was brought freshly to my mind a short time
since in looking at the church of Llandyrnog, in the Vale of Clwyd, a
few miles from Ruthin. Some of the dressings, quoins for instance,
were of a very brilliant-colored red sandstone, and others of a pale
gray or purple red. It struck me that these latter must be of Runcorn
stone, which I was afterwards informed was the case. The very red
stone was the natural stone of the Vale, originally used for dressings,
which were replaced, on the restorations being made, with Runcorn
stone. The original stone was æsthetically the best, but the introduced
stone the best structurally. The old stone of Chester Cathedral
was a very red Bunter sandstone, which decayed badly. It has
been replaced in the restorations by Runcorn stone, which belongs to
the Keuper division, which has caused the Geological Surveyors to
say that the Keuper is a better building stone than the Bunter. In
this case it is; but, on the other hand, the Bunter sandstones, or
Pebble-beds, as they are called, near Liverpool, are often better than
the Runcorn Keuper. The Runcorn building stone lies between two
beds of very red loose rock, showing that it is not its geological
position, but its structure, that makes it a good durable stone.

It is a remarkable fact that most of the pebbles included in the
red rocks are quartzites, or indurated silicious sandstones; and, as
showing that their solidity and hardness are due only to a further
continuance of the deposit of silica in the interstices, it has been
proved that the purple quartzites are purple only by reason of the
original coloration of the grains which have been enclosed between
the original grains and the secondary silica. Yellow sandstone is
colored also by iron, and I have frequently seen the red sandstone
shading of to the yellow without any division whatever. The various
shades and tints of sandstone are necessarily due to the coloration of
the individual grains.

Most of you will, no doubt, have observed the sort of marbling or
grain upon the stone of our old buildings, such as the Town-Hall,
which I believe was obtained from quarries occupying the site of the[Pg 10]
St. James’s Cemetery. This is due to what is called current bedding;
that is to say, the grains have been arranged along oblique lines and
curves instead of in parallel laminæ. This stone, which is geologically
equivalent to the Storeton Stone, and of the same nature, has stood
very well. Some of the Storeton Stone, if free from clay galls, although
very soft when quarried, becomes hardened by exposure, and
will stand the weather much better than a harder and more pretentious
material.

The stone of Compton House is in a very good condition, although
the mason told me such was the hurry in rebuilding that they could
not stop to select the stone, and also that it is placed in all sorts of
positions with respect to its quarry bed. Perhaps the circumstances
that the stone is not in parallel laminæ may have something to do
with its durability, notwithstanding this latter fact.

It would take a long Paper, and several evenings, to exhaust the
subject even of our local stones. I may mention, however, that the quarries
of Grinshill, between Shrewsbury and Hawkstone, yield a beautiful
white sandstone, of a finer grain than Storeton, but of a similar
quality.

Most of the public buildings of Shrewsbury are built of it, and I
am informed that it was to some extent used in the Exchange buildings.
The rocky substratum of a district can be well seen in its
ancient buildings, for in old times carriage was so important an item
that the old builders could not go far for their stone; hence we
see that the old churches of part of Lancashire and most of Cheshire,
and a large portion of Shropshire, are of red sandstone. Some of
it has stood very well, while some has decayed into shapeless masses.
There is a tendency to exfoliate parallel to the exposed or worked
surface, in all stones, irrespective of the way of the bed, but more so
where the stone is set up on edge, or at right angles, to its quarry
bed. It is interesting and peculiar to see in some of the old buildings
erected with pebbly sandstone how the white quartz pebbles stand
out from the surface like warts. This is due to the greater indestructibility
of the quartz pebbles, and the weathering away, or denudation,
of the sandstone face.

Before leaving the subject of local sandstones it will be necessary
to refer to one quality they have which is of excellent utility as regards
the storage of water, but which is decidedly a disadvantage in
building stone—that is, their porosity. I have proved by actual experiment
that a cubic foot of Runcorn Stone will take up three quarts
of water by capillarity, and that it is possible to make a syphon of
solid sandstone which will empty a vessel of water into another vessel
by capillarity alone.[2] This shows the absolute necessity of damp-proof
courses, not only in the main walls of buildings of stone, but
even in fence walls, for the continual sucking up of moisture from the
earth, and its evaporation at the surface of the stone, make it rapidly
decay. I think I could show you this fact in almost any stone building
in Liverpool or elsewhere where the stone is in direct connection
with the earth. It also shows the necessity of taking care that no
stones go through the wall to the interior surface, and of precautions
for backing up stone walls with less porous materials, or the introduction
of a cavity. If you could suppose such a sandstone wall 40
feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot 6 inches thick fully saturated, it
would hold almost a ton of water! Of course, it never would be fully
saturated, because of the evaporation from the surfaces, but with a
southwest aspect, and very wet weather, it might become half saturated.
But what does evaporation mean? It means the loss of so
much heat and the burning of so much coal to supply its place. From
this it will be seen that a pure sandstone wall is a thing to be avoided.

The subject is so wide a one that I have felt compelled to restrict
my remarks to local sandstones, but the general principles of structure
apply to all sandstones alike.

It is difficult by written description to tell you how to select a good
stone, but one essential is that there shall be a good deposition of
secondary quartz, as shown by the crystalline sparkling on the freshly
fractured surface.

It must also be free from very decided laminations, for these constitute
planes of weakness and are often indications of the deposition
of varying materials, or the same material in various grades of fineness.
It must also not be full of argillaceous and iron-oxide infillings.
It should possess a homogeneous texture. The best way to study
building stones is to study them in old buildings, for nature has then
dissected their weaknesses.

Warfare on Oak Trees.—“The world seems to have waged a
special warfare upon oak trees,” says a St. Louis man. “Before iron
ships were built, and that was only twelve years ago, oak was the only
thing used. When this drain ceased oak came into demand for furniture,
and it is almost as expensive now as black walnut. No one feels
the growing scarcity of oak like the tanner, and the substitution of all
sorts of chemical agencies leads up to the inquiry as to whether other
vegetable products cannot be found to fill the place of oak bark. The
wattle, a tree of Australian growth, has been found to contain from
twenty-six to thirty per cent of tannic acid. Experiments have been
made on the Pacific Slope, where the wattle readily grows, and in a
bath of liquor, acid was made from it in forty-seven days, whereas in
liquor made from Santa Cruz oak, the best to be found in all the
Pacific States, the time required is from seventy-five to eighty days.
The wattle will readily grow on the treeless plains of Texas, New
Mexico and Arizona, the bark of which ought to yield five dollars per
acre counting the fuel as nothing.”—Invention.

THE BARYE EXHIBITION.

Entering the handsome galleries of the American Art Association, one
finds the lower floor given up to the Barye bronzes, while the upper
rooms are devoted to the “Angelus” and the paintings by Millet and
other contemporaries of the great French sculptor. Passing on the
left of the entrance the superb, large bronze of “Theseus battling
with the Centaur,” one is fronted by the great cast of the “Lion and
Serpent,” which from the centre of the gallery dominates the
surrounding exhibits. Both of these are the property of the
Metropolitan Museum of Art, the cast having lately been presented to
that institution by the French government. Upon the right hangs
Bonnat’s vigorous portrait of Barye, on the left wall one sees the
water-color of the “Tiger Hunt,” and all around are cases, groups
and isolated pieces of the bronzes.

Here are over 450 works in wax, plaster and bronze, of which Mr. W.
T. Walters contributes one-fourth, while the Corcoran Gallery sends
its entire collection, numbering nearly a hundred, Mr. Cyrus J.
Lawrence loans sixty-two pieces, Mr. James F. Sutton fifty-two and
Mr. Samuel P. Avery thirty. Other contributors, who have followed
their generous example, are Messrs. R. Austin Robertson, Theodore K.
Gibbs, Robert and Richard M. Hoe, James S. Inglis, Richard M. Hunt
and Albert Spencer. Of many of the subjects there are several
copies, and amateurs can study proofs and patinas to their heart’s
content. From Mr. Walters’s famed collection are the four unique
groups modelled for the table of the Duke of Orleans, chief of which
is the “Tiger Hunt,” where two of the huge cats attack an elephant
from whose back three Indians defend themselves with courage. The
giant pachyderm writhes his serpent-like trunk in air and plunges
forward open-mouthed, trumpeting with pain from the keen claws of
the tigers hanging on his flanks. The Hunts of the Bull, the Bear
and the Elk are worthy companions of this magnificent bronze,
offering wonderfully fine examples of condensed composition in the
entwined bodies of men and beasts, and filling the eye with the
grand sweeps of their circling forms. The same liberal patron of art
also lends his unique piece of a walking lion, in silver, made in
1865 for a racing prize, and a plaster-proof of the little medallion
of “Milo of Crotona attacked by a Lion,” executed by Barye in 1819
for the Prix de Rome competition at the École des Beaux-Arts.
This little gem, worthy of the antique, did not secure the prize,
however, which went to a now-forgotten sculptor named Vatinelle. It
had often been so before, it has often been so since down to our day
(Comerre was preferred to Bastien Lepage in 1875) and doubtless it
will be so for who knows how many years to come.

All the phases of that terrific struggle for existence where beast
hunts beast, which have been depicted by Barye’s genius, are here.
Here is the “Tiger devouring a Crocodile” (with which Barye made
his first appearance at the Salon, in 1831); the “Jaguar devouring
a Hare”; the “Lion devouring a Doe,” the “Crocodile devouring an
Antelope,” the “Python swallowing a Doe,” the “Tiger devouring a
Gazelle,” the “Bear on a tree devouring an Owl” and the “Lion
devouring a Boar.” What a series of banquets on blood and warm,
almost living flesh is here presented! How cruel these creatures are
to each other, is the thought that first comes to us, but a second,
reminds that it is but their instinct and a necessity of natural law,
and repulsion is lost in astonishment and delight at the marvellous
fidelity with which the sculptor has rendered these links in the great
chain of animal life. Their (as we call it) savage eagerness, their
almost blind rage for their appointed food, the tenacity with which
they clutch and the ravening anxiety (caused by the dread of losing
their prey) with which they tear the flesh of their victims, is[Pg 11]
portrayed to the life. We speak of a death-grip, but here is a death and
life grip—death to the victim whose palpitating body furnishes life
to its destroyer. It is the hot-cold-bloodedness of nature, the disregard
for suffering of the tornado, the earthquake and the avalanche
shown in little in the fangs and claws of these wild creatures. Then
there are the battles of the more evenly-matched animals—not
always as a result of the need of sustenance—such are the tiger
transfixed by the elephant; the python’s folds crushing the crocodile;
and the bear dragging the bull to earth, or itself, in turn, overthrown
by mastiffs. Then comes those groups into which man enters—the
African horseman surprised by a great serpent whose formidable
folds already enclose his struggling body; the Arabs killing a lion;
and the “Theseus overcoming the Minotaur,” wherein the calmly
irresistible hero is about to bury his keen, short sword in the bull-neck
of the gross monster. The success with which Barye has combined
the human and bestial characteristics of the minotaur is most
remarkable and a similar triumph is won in the hippogriff—the winged
horse, with forefeet of claws and beaked nose, which leaps so swiftly
over the coiled-shape of the dolphin-serpent, which serves for his
pedestal—bearing upon his back the charming, nude figure of
Angelica held in the mail-clad arms of Ariosto’s hero. To this category
seems to belong the “Ape riding a Gnu,” the forms, however,
being true to nature though appearing fantastic when placed in
juxtaposition.

The horse as we know him, and carrying more familiar burdens,
is shown in numerous equestrian statuettes, the best of which is the
slender, nervous figure of Bonaparte as First Consul, mounted on a
proudly-stepping Arab. There is another one of Napoleon, showing
him at a later period of his life, and the other equestrian portraits
include one of the Duke of Orleans, who looks every inch a gentleman;
one of Gaston de Foix, the hero of Ravenna; and one of
Charles VII. Then there is a spirited statuette of a Tartar warrior
in chain armor sharply pulling back his steed, and a graceful figure
of a lady wearing the riding-dress of 1830. A painful contrast
is presented by the doomed horse unwillingly carrying a lion whose
dreadful grip his frantic rearing cannot loosen. In addition there
are many studies of horses, various in breed and attitude, and the
small wax model of a young man mastering a horse which though
but a rough “first sketch” has all the “go and fire” possible. It
would have been of interest if some illustration of Barye’s equestrian
monument of Napoleon at Ajaccio could have been shown, and this
reminds me that except a photograph of the Château d’Eau at Marseilles,
showing the four groups of animals designed by him (which
Mr. Cyrus J. Lawrence was thoughtful enough to send), and the two
reclining river-gods from the Louvre (sent by Mr. Walters), there is
nothing which gives any idea of Barye’s public work. Not even
photographs of the War, Order, Glory and Peace groups of the
Louvre, which could have easily been taken from the copies given by
Mr. Walters to Baltimore, now on Mount Vernon Place, are present.
But, in face of the admirable collection here gathered together, this
may savor of ingratitude, and I will return to the consideration of the
remaining sculptures.

Among them are some masterly pieces of decoration, the most important
being the superb candelabra made for the Duc de Montpensier.
These have seated at their base nude figures of the three chief
goddesses of classic mythology, whose noble proportions and purity
of outline prove the versatility and completeness of the sculptor’s
art. Juno is accompanied by her peacock and bears the rod of
power; Minerva lifts a sword, and Venus holds the golden apple.
The candelabra are further enriched with masks and chimeras, and
bear at their top a charming circular group of the three graces, small
undraped figures, with arms entwined and faces turned toward each
other. The general design and exquisite detail of this work is worthy
of the Renaissance. There are some more candlesticks and other
works of decorative art, all of which bear the marks of a master-hand.

The humorous side of things is presented by some of the groups:
in the ungainly figure of the elephant of Senegal running; in the
bear lying on his back in a trough and eating with great gusto some
sweet morsel which he holds between his paws; and in the meditative
stork standing on the back of a turtle. Some of the animals are
shown as sleeping or reclining, and there is a cat sitting, a goat
feeding, a deer scratching its side and a pheasant walking, among
others, but the tragic note is struck in most of them. Probably the
best works are to be found among those pieces representing members
of the feline race, which were always the subject of Barye’s most
thorough study. The sculptures of horses are also very numerous,
and it strikes one at first as curious that, after all the rebuffs he received
from the academic faction, who recognized no animals but
the horse and lion as worthy of representation in sculpture, he
should have modelled so many of these very creatures. But, after
all, Barye’s lions and horses belong to an entirely different race from
those which the tradition-bound old fogies were pleased with. The
collection embraces many admirable bronzes of birds: an eagle
holding a dead heron; an owl with a rat; a paroquet on a tree,
and a strikingly fine composition of a hawk killing a heron; and
there are some beautiful studies of dogs, especially a large seated
greyhound, belonging to Mr. Walters. There are rabbits, badgers,
wolves and camels, but I remember no cows or pigs, and only one
group of sheep. Wild life, much more than domestic, touched the
sympathies of Barye.

Mr. Walters loans twenty-three of Barye’s powerful water-colors
of animals and a fine oil, of unusual size for this artist, of a tiger.
One of the most striking of the water-colors shows a great snake
swallowing an antelope, whose head is partly engulfed, and it is
almost exactly the same as one of the bronzes from the Walters collection.
Other gentlemen have contributed water-colors and oil-paintings
by Barye, among them being several landscapes at Fontainebleau,
and there are various etchings and prints after his works
and some of his lithographs, pencil-sketches and autographs, with a
copy of the only etching—a stag fighting a cougar—which, according
to so good an authority as Mr. Avery, he ever made. These remarkable
water-colors alone would suffice to show the genius of
Barye, for they are full of the same qualities of truth and originality
of expression which we see in his bronzes. Their color is exceedingly
fine, and their topics are generally tigers, lions, elephants and
serpents. It is a source of wonder how Barye, who never visited
the East, could have so well depicted the tropical landscapes in
which he has placed these tawny tigers and majestic lions. The
drawings, like the sculptures, impress us with their air of absolute
veracity, and, even in their most dramatic moments, suggest a reticence
behind. Barye does not exhaust himself or his subject, yet he
seems to have said the last word in this direction of art, and I cannot
imagine that his profound and searching genius will ever be surpassed.

The managers of the galleries announce the exhibition of a
hundred “masterpieces” by the contemporaries and friends of
Barye, but I do not think that the visitor will find so large a number
which can rightly be thus classed. To me it appears that something
less than one-half are works of the first order, but among the
remainder are many good things worthy of attention. Here again
the treasures of Mr. Walters’s collection are drawn upon and he
sends some twenty-five pictures, prominent among which is the great
“Martyrdom of St. Sebastian,” by Corot; the “Evening Star,” by
the same master; Troyon’s “Cattle Drinking”; Diaz’s “Storm” and
“Autumn Scene in the Forest of Fontainebleau”; Rousseau’s “Le
Givre”; Decamps’s “Suicide”; Daubigny’s large “Sunset on the
Coast of France”; Delacroix’s “Christ on the Cross”; and Millet’s
“Breaking Flax.” One of the finest Millets I have ever seen is
here, lent by Mr. Walters. This is the “Sheepfold at Night,” which
with several others of Mr. Walters’s paintings here shown, was in
the exhibition of “One Hundred Masterpieces” held at Paris in
1883. In its foreground a line of sheep pass by toward the gate of
the fold through which some have already entered under the guidance
of the shepherd and his dog, who stand near. The horizon is
low, and just above it swings a swollen moon, shaped like a cup,
from which floods of pale light fill the scene with color. If this were
Mr. Walters’s only contribution it would be sufficient to place us
under a heavy obligation to him. The “St. Sebastian” is a large
canvas, measuring four feet wide by eight feet high, which was first
shown at the Salon of 1853, and afterwards twice received important
changes at the artist’s hands. It shows an opening in a great wood,
with the saint reclining on the ground tended by two holy women,
while above appear some angels who bear the martyr’s palm and
crown. Rousseau’s “Le Givre” is well described by Sensier, who
says in his “Souvenirs sur Th. Rousseau,” it represents “the hills of
Valmondois as seen a mile away across the Oise, along the des Forgets
road. The composition could not be more simple. Little
hillocks heaped in the foreground are covered with half-melted snow,
and the sun, red in the midst of a leaden sky, is seen dying and
threatening through the clouds.” The “Suicide,” of Decamps, shows
the body of a young artist stretched lifeless on his pallet in a gloomy
room, and is painted with extraordinary force. The “Sunset,” by
Daubigny, describes a scene on the French coast with some cows
near a pool separated from the sea only by a few yards. The foreground
is rich in sombre greens and browns, the ocean a glorious
blue and the sky tinged with the roses of sunset.

A superb specimen of the lately dead veteran, Jules Dupré, “The
Old Oak,” is lent by Mr. John G. Johnson, who contributes several
other pictures, among them a fine “Going to the Fair,” by Troyon,
in which is seen a drove of cattle and sheep, with a woman on horseback
behind talking to a man. Another still finer Troyon, the
“Drove of Cattle and Sheep,” which brought $26,000 at the Spencer
sale, is lent by Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt. It will be recalled as
showing a flock of sheep coming along a road toward the spectator,
while behind are two cows, one with head uplifted to avoid the
threatening stick of the drover—a dumb but eloquent protest
against man’s cruelty. Corot’s lovely “Lake Nemi,” the property
of Mr. Thomas Newcombe, is here, while Mr. Jay Gould sends his
“Evening”; Mr. William F. Slater, of Norwich, Conn., the “Fauns
and Nymphs,” and Mr. Charles A. Dana his beautiful “Dance of
Loves.” To the same gentleman the public is indebted for an
opportunity to admire Millet’s admirable “Turkey-keeper.” Mr.
D. C. Lyall has Delacroix’s splendid page of romance, “The Abduction
of Rebecca,” and among the numerous paintings which come
from Mr. George I. Seney’s gallery, is the same artist’s well-known
“Convulsionaries,” a crowd of self-tortured fanatics wildly rushing
through the white-walled streets of Tangiers. There are several
other works by Delacroix, including examples of his vivid renditions
of lions and tigers, and Mr. Slater has here his “Christopher
Columbus,” Mr. Potter Palmer, of Chicago, lending the “Giaour
and Pacha.” Gericault is represented by but one picture, a noble
couchant lion, but in addition to the “Suicide,” there are several
other Decamps, notably the magnificently colored “Turkish[Pg 12]
Butcher’s Shop,” which, with a splendid Rousseau, the “Forest of
Fontainebleau,” comes from the collection of Mr. Henry Graves.
The gorgeous blues and crimsons of Diaz’s “Coronation of Love,”
which Mr. Brayton Ives is fortunate enough to own, glow in a corner
of one of the galleries—a bouquet of living color. It was pleasant
to meet again a familiar picture in Millet’s “Waiting,” which the
writer recalls often seeing at the Boston Art Museum when it
belonged to Mr. Henry Sayles. It is now the property of Mr.
Seney, and will be at once remembered by any who have ever seen
its homely but touching figures of the old mother looking down the
road for the coming of her absent son, and the blind father stumbling
hastily over the steps to the door. I renewed my acquaintance with
the inimitable cat which arches its back, elevates its tail and miaows
on the bench outside, its ginger-colored coat relieved against the
cool blue-grays of the stone wall. It is the apocryphal story of
Tobit and Anna, with the waiting parents made into peasants of
Millet’s own country, and when it was exhibited at the Salon of
1861, the public, of course, passed it by to gaze at the “Phryne” of
Gérôme. Millet has doubtless painted better pictures, but for direct
simple pathos it would be hard to surpass this.

Boston, through Mr. Quincy Shaw and other gentlemen, sends to
the exhibition some of the best paintings shown. Mr. Shaw exhibits
his “Potato-planters,” to me the most beautiful in its rosy tones of
any example of the artist here; of the same size, a fine “End of the
Village of Greville,” walled with graystone, its little street monopolized
by geese and ducks, and the sea-gulls flying above; and the
“Buckwheat Threshers,” with two smaller canvases. Mr. F. L.
Ames, lends two Millets, a beautiful Rousseau, “The Valley of
Tiffauge,” Decamps’s splendid picture of an African about to sling
a stone at a vulture sitting on some ruins, and the superbly painted
dogs of Troyon’s “Gardechasse.” Dr. H. C. Angell’s fine Jules
Dupré, “Symphony,” is also here.

The Millets number about a third of the paintings and among
them is an interesting variation of the “Sower,” narrower in shape
than the others and with a steeper hillside. It would have been a
delight to have seen Mr. Shaw’s “Sower” temporarily lifted from its
place in the modest house which conceals so many treasures, and
brought here, especially as it was not possible to borrow the replica
belonging to the estate of the late W. H. Vanderbilt, but such good
fortune was not in store for us. A beautiful little nude by Millet,
“After the Bath,” has been sent by Mr. A. C. Clark. I think it
must be the same one which was at the Bartholdi Pedestal Fund Exhibition
some years ago, when it belonged to Mr. Erwin Davis.
Messrs. Boussod, Valadon & Co., have lent an important and
beautiful “November” by Millet, showing a sloping field with a
harrow lying on the foreground and a man shooting at a flock of
birds from behind a tree at the top of the hill.

The “Angelus,” draped with crimson, is given the entire end of
the long upper gallery and, I think, proves a disappointment to most,
if not all. One chief reason for this is its small size,—it is but about
21 x 25 inches—and then it is certainly not to be compared for
painting with half a dozen other Millets which are here. Its sentiment
is lasting, however, but it is not new to us, on the contrary it
is a household word now, and the painting gives but little more than
does Waltner’s etching. Mr. Walters loans the crayon sketch for it
and one of “The Sower” and the “Sheepfold by Moonlight,” with
others, and there are some very interesting pastels and water-colors
by Millet, Rousseau and Delacroix.

Altogether the exhibition is an extraordinarily good one, unapproached
as to the Baryes and not easily surpassable as to the paintings
of the Fontainebleau school, and any lover of art would find
himself amply repaid by it for a journey to New York.

[Contributors are requested to send with their drawings full and
adequate descriptions of the buildings, including a statement of cost.]

“THE LION AND THE SERPENT.” M. A. L. BARYE, SCULPTOR.

[Photogravure issued only with the International Edition.]

See article elsewhere in this issue.

AUDITORIUM OF THE PALACE OF THE TROCADERO, PARIS,
FRANCE. MM. DAVIOUD & BORDAIS, ARCHITECTS.

[Gelatine Plate issued only with the International Edition.]

AN INTERIOR IN THE CHATEAU DE JOSSELIN, MORBIHAN, FRANCE.

[Gelatine Plate issued only with the International Edition.]

TORRE DEL VINO, ALHAMBRA, GRANADA, SPAIN.

[Grano-chrome issued only with the International Edition.]

RUINS OF THE CHAPEL OF CHARLES V, YUSTE, SPAIN.

[Grano-chrome issued only with the International Edition.]

COOMBE WARREN, KINGSTON, ENGLAND.—GARDEN FRONT. THE
LATE MR. GEORGE DEVEY, ARCHITECT.

[Issued only with the International Edition.]

COOMBE WARREN, KINGSTON, ENGLAND.—ENTRANCE FRONT.
THE LATE MR. GEORGE DEVEY, ARCHITECT.

[Issued only with the International Edition.]

A GENTLEMAN’S COUNTRY HOUSE. MR. HORACE R. APPELBEE,
ARCHITECT.

[Issued only with the International Edition.]

This design is founded upon the Francis I style of architecture,
though it by no means slavishly follows it. It was required to
obtain a house suited in all respects to modern requirements, including
such things as sash-windows, and in places plate-glass.
These hardly harmonize with the ordinary character of English
country-houses of the Elizabethan and Queen Anne types, with
their many mullioned windows and lead-glazed casements, nor is the
other extreme of heavy Classic with ponderous detail and a portico
two stories high at all desirable. The style of Francis I offers a
mean between these, giving emphasis to the principal block by a
certain amount of symmetrical planning, together with picturesqueness,
with rich and refined detail, which a gentleman’s country-house
certainly requires. The exterior would be of long and thin red
bricks, with stone cornices and other dressings, and roofed with
green slates. The interior has oak-work and enriched plaster ceilings
to the principal rooms, with the exception of the hall, where
the ceiling would be of oak. The hall and the staircase would have
some stained-glass in the windows. The original drawing was exhibited
in this year’s Academy.

WROUGHT-IRON GATES, DUKE STREET, CHELMSFORD, ENGLAND.

[Issued only with the International Edition.]

HISTORICAL FIGURES FROM LORD MAYOR’S PROCESSION, 1889.
DESIGNED BY MR. JOHN JELLICOE.

[Issued only with the International Edition.]

These figure sketches embrace five typical examples from the late
Lord Mayor’s show, in which Mediæval, Tudor and Stuart costumes
were (thanks to the research and artistic knowledge of Hon. Lewis
Wingfield) so pleasantly associated. We have selected five, both on
account of their diversity and also because of their being representative
costumes of different eras in English history. The dresses, for
magnificence and accuracy of detail, have rarely been equalled.

HOUSE OF MRS. CHARLES BLAKE, BEACON ST., BOSTON, MASS.
MESSRS. STURGIS & CABOT, ARCHITECTS, BOSTON, MASS.

[Issued only with the Imperial and International Editions.]

COMPETITIVE DESIGN FOR THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. JOHN THE
DIVINE, NEW YORK, N.Y. MR. GLENN BROWN, ARCHITECT,
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Although the selection of material is a matter that can be well
dispensed with until the general design has been determined, the
architect suggests as in harmony with the treatment, Westerly, R.I.
granite for the body of the cathedral, with trimmings of carved
capitals, bases, columns, belts, arches and other ornamental stonework
of a Georgia marble. The granite is cream color, with a
suspicion of red, and the marble is of the same shade but a trifle
darker and more positive. Both from chemical and physical tests
they are apparently of equal strength and durability. The colors
suggested would not give the building the cold appearance of white
marble, or the somewhat sombre appearance produced by gray
granite.

The stones are to be laid in square blocks, regular courses and
rock-face in the body of the building, with square and sharp corners.
The columns, lintels, sills, belts, finials and mouldings are to be close
hammered work, with carving where indicated on the drawings.

The different tower roofs are to be fine-hammered or rubbed
granite. The distinction between the tower roofs and the body of
the building is not brought out clearly in the different drawings, as
this would require shading all the granite stonework except the
tower roofs, and shading is prohibited by the instructions.

The interior of the church is designed to be finished in marbles of
harmonious colors, with carved and other decorated work, as shown
in the section. The surface of the floor is to be laid in mosaic tile,
the presumption being that fixed pews will not be used in the
cathedral. Ample storage can be obtained for portable seats in the
cellar.

The floors are laid on terra-cotta arches, built on iron beams, and
the beams are protected by terra-cotta casings.

The roof of the building is to be covered with slate [preferably
red], laid on terra-cotta and supported by iron trusses and beams;
the iron-work to be protected by a fireproof covering. The tower
roofs contemplate granite, lapped and jointed so as to be weatherproof,
laid on iron beams and supported by iron trusses. If a
cheaper covering is desired, slate or tile can be used without affecting
the design.

[Pg 13]
The ceiling is a barrel-vault with large and small arched ribs
pierced in each bay by the small vaults in which the clerestory
windows open. It may be treated in one of three ways: first,
finished in marble; second, marble ribs, the larger surfaces being
terra-cotta blocks covered with mosaic tile; third, the larger surfaces
frescoed on plaster. The ceiling of the lantern in the centre
of the cathedral will be supported by arch trusses, and show metallic
ribs on the interior, glazed with cathedral glass.

The screens between the choir and aisles and between the aisle
and vestries and chapels are intended to be of wrought-iron, bronze
or brass, or a combination. They should be arranged so as to slide
down into the cellar and leave the entire building open and unobstructed
whenever it might be thought desirable.

The outside doors are to be bronze, with figures on them in low
relief.

The size of columns and piers, and the weights imposed upon
them, the thrusts of arches and trusses, their proper abutments and
ties and other constructional problems have been calculated with a
sufficient degree of accuracy to determine the feasibility of the execution
of the design according to the drawings.

In the lantern where the frescoing is contemplated the wall will be
faced with porous brick, on which the proper fresco plaster can be
spread.

The plan is arranged to facilitate the ingress and egress of large
assemblages of people, five doorways being provided in the nave
entrance and two in each of the transepts. The galleries over the
nave and transept vestibules and the triforium have stairways with
entrances on the side porches. Including the clergy entrances, fifteen
outside doors are planned. The vestibules and porches connect
with each other so that worshippers can pass from one to the other
under cover.

The arrangement adopted for the central tower allows a central
auditorium about one hundred feet in diameter, unobstructed by
columns or piers, with the nave transepts and choir opening into it.
The aisles are not decreased by this central enlargement, as they
deflect through the four abutting towers.

The different vestry-rooms, library or sacristy and the treasury
are grouped conveniently to the choir, with separate entrances for
the church officials. The meeting-room for the clergy or chapter
and the chapel have entrances independent of the church, or by
lowering the screen they can be thrown open into the cathedral.
Toilet-rooms, custodian’s and a committee-room are located on the
transept vestibules, as these entrances would most probably be constantly
open.

Elevators are placed in two of the supplemental towers, and stairways
in the ones adjoining the choir, landing visitors on the triforium
gallery, which encircles the building, and in the two galleries
which encircle the central lantern. From the lantern galleries
visitors can obtain fine interior views of the building, and comprehend
the crucial form of the plan at a glance.

TABULATIONS OF APPROXIMATE DIMENSIONS.

ABBEY OF ABERBROTHWICK: GALLERY OVER ENTRANCE.

ABBEY OF ABERBROTHWICK: THE WESTERN DOORWAY.

The traveller by sea, along the east coast of Scotland, is liable to
be reminded with startling emphasis of the demolition to which
the ecclesiastical architecture of the country has been subjected.
Leaving behind him on his northward course the fragments of the
metropolitan Cathedral of St. Andrews, he crosses a wide arm of
the sea, and when he again approaches the shore, the objects most
prominent against the sky are the still more disastrously shattered
remnants of the great Abbey of Aberbrothwick. One lofty fragment
presents in its centre a circle, doubtless once filled with richly
moulded mullions and stained-glass, but through which the blue sky
is now visible. This vacant circle is the only symmetrical form in
these lofty masses that at a distance strikes the eye—all else is
shapeless and fragmentary. Around these huge unsightly vestiges
of ancient magnificence the types of modern comfort and commercial
wealth cluster thickly, in the shape of a small but busy manufacturing
town, with its mills, tall chimneys and rows of substantial houses.

The ruins, which are interesting only in their details, scarcely present
a more inviting general aspect as they are approached. Nearing
them from the High Street of the burgh, the first prominent
object is a grim, strong, square tower, the sole remaining complete
edifice of the great establishment, now used as a butcher’s shop. It
was not perhaps without design that this formidable building was so
placed as to frown over the dwellings of the industrious burghers—it
was the prison of the regality of the abbey—the place of punishment
or detention through which a judicial power, scarcely inferior
to that of the royal courts, was enforced by this potent brotherhood;
and thus it served to remind the world without, that the coercive
power of the abbot and his chapter was scarcely inferior to their
spiritual dignity and their temporal magnificence. Passing onward,
the whole scene is found to be a chaos of ruin. Fragments of the
church, with those of the cloisters and other monastic edifices, rise in
apparently inseparable confusion from the grassy ground; but, with
a little observation, the cruciform outline of the church can be
traced, and then its disjointed masses reduce themselves into connected
details. The dark-red stone of which the building was
constructed is friable, and peculiarly apt to crumble under the moist
atmosphere and dreary winds of the northeast coast. The mouldings
and tracery are thus wofully obliterated, and the facings are so
much decayed as to leave the original surface distinguishable only
here and there. At comparatively late periods large masses of the
ruins have fallen down; and Pennant mentions such an event as
having taken place just before he visited the spot. This palpable
progress towards the complete extinction of the relics of one of the
finest Gothic buildings in Scotland, certainly rendered it not only
justifiable but highly praiseworthy that the Exchequer should make
some effort for preserving so much of the pile as was preservable.
Restoration was not to be expected—the preservation of the existing
fragments was all that could be reasonably looked for. It must
be confessed, however, that the operations, by means of which this
service was accomplished, have given no picturesque aid to the
mass of ruins, but have rather introduced a new element of discordance
and confusion, in the contrast between the cold, flat, new surfaces
of masonry and the rugged, weatherbeaten ruins in which they
are embodied.

There are few buildings in which the Norman and the early English
are so closely blended, and the transition so gentle. The great
western door has the Norman arch, with an approach to the later
types in some of its rather peculiar mouldings, while the broad and
equally peculiar gallery above it—the only interior portion of the
church remaining in a state of preservation—shows the pointed
arch, with all the simplicity of the Norman pillar and capital. All
the material fragments of the church now remaining are represented
in the four accompanying plates, from which as full an idea of the
shape and character of the remains may be derived as the visitor
could acquire on the spot. It will be seen that over the gallery, at
the western end of the nave, there widens the lower arc of a circular
window, which must have been of great size. The only portions of
the aisle windows still existing are on the south side of the nave.
None of the central pillars remain, but their bases have been carefully
laid bare: and it is supposed, from the greater size of those at
the meeting of the cross, that here there had been a great central
tower.

Among the tombs of more modern date, in the grave-yard near the
church, there are many which bear sculptural marks of a very
remote antiquity; and among the ornaments they present, the primitive
form of the cross is conspicuous. During the operations for
cleaning out the ruins, which were conducted under the authority of
the Exchequer in 1815,[3] some pieces of monumental sculpture were
discovered, two of which are curious and remarkable. The one is
the mutilated figure of a dignified churchman—probably an abbot.
The head, the hands—which appear to have been clasped—and
the feet, are broken off and lost; but the fragment thus truncated
has much appearance of grace in the folds of the drapery and the
disposition of the limbs, while a series of rich ceremonial ornaments
appear to have been brought out with great force and minuteness.
The other figure, still more mutilated, is simpler in the ordinary details,
but has attached to it some adjuncts which have perplexed the
learned. The feet appear to have rested on the effigy of a beast, the
remains of which indicate it to have represented a lion. It has, from
this circumstance, been inferred that the statue was that of William
the Lion, the founder of the abbey. The figure has, however, been
attired in flowing robes, and a purse hangs from the girdle. But the
portions of this fragment which chiefly contributed to rouse curiosity,
are some incrustations, which had at first the appearance of the
effigies of lizards crawling along the main figure. It was supposed
that these reptiles were intended to embody the idea of malevolent
spirits, and that the piece of sculpture might have been designed to
represent a myth, probably in reference to the machinations of the
infernal world. But, upon a closer inspection, it was found that
these tiny figures represented pigmy knights in armor, scrambling,
as it were, up the massive figure. One appears to be struggling with
the drapery below; another has reached the waist; and the fracture,
which is across the shoulder, leaves dangling the mailed heels
of two others, which must have reached the neck. Is it possible that
there can be here any reference to the slaughter of Becket, to whom
the abbey was dedicated?

HISTORICAL SKETCH.

The historical circumstances connected with the foundation of this
monastic institution are remarkable. It was founded and endowed
by William the Lion, King of Scots, in the year 1178, and dedicated[Pg 14]
to St. Thomas à Becket, the martyr of the principle of ecclesiastical
supremacy, whose slaughter at the high altar of Canterbury
Cathedral occurred in 1170, and who was canonized in 1173. This
great establishment, richly endowed, was thus a magnificent piece of
homage by the Scottish King to a principle which, especially under
the bold and uncompromising guidance of its great advocate, had
solely perplexed and baffled his royal neighbor on the English
throne, and boded future trouble and humiliation to all thrones and
temporal dignities. Much antiquarian speculation has been exerted,
but without very obvious success, to fathom the motives for this act
of munificence. William had invaded those parts of the north of
England which were previously held in a species of feudality by the
Kings of Scotland, and was disgracefully defeated at Alnwick, and
committed to captivity, just at the time when the English monarch,
whose forces accomplished the victory and capture, was enduring his
humiliating penance at the tomb of the canonized archbishop. Lord
Hailes, who says that “William was personally acquainted with
Becket, when there was little probability of his ever becoming a confessor,
martyr and saint,” endeavoring to discover a motive for the
munificence of the Scottish King, continues to say: “Perhaps it was
meant as a public declaration that he did not ascribe his disaster at
Alnwick to the ill-will of his old friend. He may, perhaps, have
been hurried by the torrent of popular prejudices into the belief that
his disaster proceeded from the partiality of Becket towards the
penitent Henry; and he might imagine that if equal honors were
done in Scotland to the new saint as in England he might, on future
occasions, observe a neutrality.”[4] It is remarkable that several of
the early chroniclers allude to this friendship between the Scottish
monarch, who was a resolute champion of temporal authority, and
the representative of ecclesiastical supremacy….

Princes may be induced, by personal circumstances, to change
their views, and in the times when they were not controlled by
responsible ministers, they gave effect to their alterations of opinion.
It is quite possible that at the time when he founded the Abbey,
William was partial to Church ascendency, for his celebrated contest
with the ecclesiastical power arose out of subsequent events. This
King’s disputes with the Church have a somewhat complex shape.
The clergy of his own dominions had a spiritual war against the English
hierarchy, who asserted a claim to exercise metropolitan authority
over them; and it might have been supposed that William, if he
sought to humble his own clergy, would have found it politic to favor
the pretensions of those of England. But the interests of the two
clerical bodies became in the end united. Thus the war which had
so long raged in England, passed towards the north, with this difference,
that the King of Scots had to encounter not only his own
native hierarchy, but the victorious Church of England, just elated
by its triumph over Henry. The Chapter of St. Andrews had
elected a person to be their bishop, not acceptable to William, who
desired to give the chair to his own chaplain. The King seized the
temporalities, and prevailed on the other bishops to countenance his
favorite. The bishop-elect appealed to Rome. Pope Alexander III
issued legatine powers over Scotland to the Archbishop of York,
who, along with the Bishop of Durham, after an ineffectual war of
minor threats and inflictions, excommunicated the King, and laid the
kingdom under interdict. At this point Alexander III died, and
the new pope thought it wise to make concessions to an uncompromising
adversary in a rude and distant land, who had shown himself
possessed of an extent of temporal power sufficient to counteract
the power of Rome, even among the ecclesiastics themselves.

It was before this great feud commenced that the Abbey was
founded; but during its continuance the institution received, from
whatever motives, many tokens of royal favor, as well as precious
gifts from the great barons. Among the list of benefactors we find
many of those old Norman names, which cease to be associated with
Scottish history after the War of Independence. It is a still more
striking instance of the community of interest between the two
kingdoms anterior to this war, that while we find a Scottish king
devoting a great monastic establishment to the memory of an English
prelate, we should find an English king conferring special
privileges and immunities within his realm on the Scottish brotherhood….

The Abbey was founded for Tyronesian monks, and the parent
stock whence it received its first inmates was the old Abbey of
Kelso. In the year of the foundation, Reginald, elected “Abbot of
the Church of St. Thomas,” was, with his convent, released of all
subjection and obedience to the abbot and convent of Kelso. The
church was completed and consecrated under the abbacy of Ralph
de Lamley, in 1233. Aberbrothwick was one of those ecclesiastical
institutions immediately connected with the spread of the Roman
hierarchy, which gradually sucked up the curious pristine establishment
of the Culdees; and the muniments of the Abbey thus afford
some traces of the character and history of this religious body, at
least towards the period of their extinction. Thus, while the Church
of Abernethy, an ancient seat of the Culdees, is granted by King
William to his new foundation, Orme of Abernethy, who is also
styled Abbot of Abernethy, grants the half of the tithes of the
property of himself and his heirs, the other half of which belongs to
the Culdees of Abernethy, while some disposals of a strictly
ecclesiastical character are made by the same document. Thus we
find an abbot who makes disposal for his heirs—a counterpart to
those references to the legitimate progeny of churchmen, which
frequently puzzle the antiquary in his researches through early
Scottish ecclesiastical history.

The Abbot of Aberbrothwick possessed a peculiar privilege, the
origin of which is in some measure associated with the Culdees—the
custody of the Brecbennach, or consecrated banner of St. Columba.
The lands of Forglen, the church of which was dedicated to
Adomnan the biographer of Columba, were gifted for the maintenance
of the banner. The privilege was conferred on the Abbey by
King William, but as it inferred the warlike service of following the
banner to the King’s host, the actual custody was held by laymen,
the Abbey enjoying the pecuniary advantages attached to the
privilege, as religious houses drew the temporalities of churches
served by vicars.

It will readily be believed that this, one of the richest and most
magnificent monastic institutions in Scotland, numbered many
eminent men among its abbots, who from time to time connect it with
the early history of Scotland. It is even associated with a literature
that has survived to the present day, in having been presided over
by Gavin Douglas, the translator of Virgil. The two Beatons,
Cardinal David and Archbishop James, also successively its abbots,
give it a more ambiguous reputation. At the Reformation, the wealth
of the Abbey was converted into a temporal lordship, in favor of
Lord Claude Hamilton, third son of the Duke of Chatelherault, and
the greater part of the temporalities came, in the seventeenth
century, into the hands of the Panmure family.

In a tradition immortalized by a fine ballad of Southey’s, it is said
that the abbots of Aberbrothwick, in their munificent humanity preserved
a beacon on that dangerous reef of rock in the German
Ocean, which is supposed to have received its name of the “Bell
Rock” from the peculiar character of the warning machinery of
which the abbot made use:

The tradition represents a rover, in the recklessness of prosperity
and sunshine, cutting the bell-rope, and afterwards returning in foul
weather to be shipwrecked on the rock from which he had impiously
removed the warning beacon. No evidence of the existence of the
bell is found in the records of the Abbey; and on the subject of its
wanton removal, the sagacious engineer of the Northern Lights say,
“It in no measure accords with the respect and veneration entertained
by seamen of all classes for landmarks; more especially as
there seems to be no difficulty in accounting for the disappearance
of such an apparatus, unprotected, as it must have been, from the
raging element of the sea.”[5]

DESIGN FOR A STORE. MESSRS. WAIT & CUTTER, ARCHITECTS,
BOSTON, MASS.

BOSTON SOCIETY OF ARCHITECTS.

Recommendations by the Boston Society of Architects, in regard
to practice in obtaining estimates from contractors:

1. Drawings, when offered for final or competitive estimates,
should be sufficient in number and character to represent the proposed
works clearly; should be at a scale of not less than one-eighth
of an inch to the foot, and be rendered in ink or some permanent
process.

2. Proper details should be furnished for work that is not otherwise
sufficiently described for estimate.

3. Specifications should be in ink. They should be definite where
not sufficiently defined and explained by drawings, and every distinctive
class of work to be included in contract should be mentioned
and placed under its appropriate heading.

4. Contractors should be notified, at time of estimate, if they are
to be restricted in the employment of their subcontractors.

5. Sub-bids received by architects should be held as confidential
communications until all the estimates in a given class of work have
been submitted.

The principal contractor should add to his bids all these subestimates
while in the architect’s office, and should sign a tender in
which the names of these above-mentioned subcontractors should be
enumerated.

6. A subcontractor should not (without his free consent) be placed
under a general contractor, and no general contractor should be
compelled to accept (without his free consent) the estimate of any
subcontractor.

7. Should a contractor decline to assume in his contract the estimate
for any work not included in his original estimate, he should[Pg 15]
not thereby be denied the contract upon the portions of the work
covered by his original estimate.

8. Estimates should not be binding more than thirty days after
received.

9. Unless previous notification has been given to the contrary in
the specification or otherwise, the lowest invited bidder is entitled to
the contract. If radical changes are made, the whole competition
should be reopened.

10. After bids have been received, and before the award, bidders
should not be allowed to amend their estimates.

[The editors cannot pay attention to demands of correspondents who
forget to give their names and addresses as guaranty of good faith;
nor do they hold themselves responsible for opinions expressed by
their correspondents.]

BARYE’S ADMIRER.

New York, N.Y., December 28, 1889.

To the Editors of the American Architect:—

Dear Sirs,—I have just seen a letter from “Anglo-American”
in your issue of December 14, in which he calls for the name of the
English artist who said concerning the French sculptor, Barye:
“Had he been born in Great Britain, we would have had a group by
Barye in every square in London.”

Théophile Silvestre reports this remark as if uttered in his
presence. He says (1856) that the speaker was Mr. Herbert, an
artist of distinction. Probably this was Arthur J. Herbert. Your
correspondent takes the remark perhaps too literally, when it merely
meant to express admiration through a slight exaggeration. Mr.
Herbert would have been content to see a few squares only decorated
with groups by an English equivalent of Barye, had one existed.

As to the assertion by “Anglo-American” that Alfred Stevens
was “an artist not inferior to Barye” it will be shared by few who
have studied the works of the great French sculptor of animals and
men.

“Anglo-American” is right in saying that my short paper in
Harper’s Weekly errs in giving two bronze groups after Barye to
Mount Vernon Square, Baltimore, instead of four. Were I a
resident of that city, I could hardly have known this better, and how
the error got there puzzles me. Certainly had I been permitted to
see a proof of that paper the mistake would have been corrected,
unimportant as it is, so far as Barye is concerned. I must compliment
your correspondent on the quickness of eye that detected the
slip and regret that the proof-reader of Harper’s Weekly did not
know his Baltimore to the same degree. But he is himself in error
when he speaks of the “Life and Works of Antoine Louis Barye,”
written by me and published by the Barye Monument Association as
a catalogue. The catalogue is quite another thing from the édition
deluxe, which is the only edition of the “Life.”

Charles de Kay.

EVAPORATION OF WATER IN TRAPS.

To the Editors of the American Architect:—

Dear Sirs,—In a late issue of your journal an advocate of Trap-venting,
says of ordinary S-traps “If the traps are filled even once
in two months they will keep their seals intact.”

Most persons now agree that S-traps which are back-vented in the
ordinary manner require refilling by hand as often as once a fortnight.
It is, therefore, clear that the system of back-venting is a
very dangerous one. Its original object was to afford security. It
is now found (and strangely enough, even by its advocates) that
it totally fails in this respect and that it requires an amount of attention
which experience and common-sense show us it will never
receive.

My experiments on the rate of seal-reduction through evaporation
produced by back-venting were made with the greatest care and
show a more rapid loss than is generally supposed. If the reports
of these experiments are studied, it will be seen that every precaution
was taken to secure trustworthy results. Although my experiments
on siphonage were made during the same year and on the
same system of piping with those on evaporation, it will be seen by
studying the drawings and text of the report that the former in no
wise interfered with the latter. No experiments on siphonage were
made while the water stood high in the traps during the tests for
evaporation, and no disturbance of the water seals was made by this
or any other cause during the evaporation tests. It would have been
exceedingly careless and totally unnecessary to allow of any such
disturbance. Moreover, most of the experiments on evaporation
were made, as shown, on a stack so connected with the rest of the
system of piping that such disturbance would have been impossible.
Even had we not so carefully closed the inlet or house-side of the
traps.

I found that a warm flue caused the back-vent pipe to evaporate
enough of the water from the seal of the trap to break it in less than
a week, and I am confident that this often happens in practice.

How short-sighted and foolish is it to endeavor to throw discredit
on these experiments which were made with the greatest care and
honesty and which were witnessed and subscribed to by impartial
experts, and to argue that, because other experiments made under
different conditions showed a somewhat slower rate of evaporation,
therefore cases could never occur in which the more rapid rate
might be encountered in practice.

It is likely that the public will very soon awake to a sense of the
importance of investigating this matter for themselves. Their
Boards of Health will then find that with a very small outlay they
can obtain the truth; and that a vast amount of unnecessary complication
and expense can be saved in plumbing and, at the same
time greater security be obtained.

When we consider, too, the well-known unreliability of the vent-pipe
in other ways and the frequency with which it is found totally
closed by grease, it becomes something more than folly to recommend
the public to place implicit reliance upon it.

J. P. Putnam.

The Divining-Rod.—Professor Ray Lankester, having recently expressed
some doubts of the alleged powers of a boy “water-finder.”
Dr. McClure, who is chairman of the company by whom the boy is employed,
has denied emphatically that the boy, whose name is Rodwell,
is an impostor. He says that the lad, when tested, never failed to find
either water or mineral veins, the lodes having always been found exactly
at the places indicated. The divining-rod which he holds only
moves in obedience to the muscular contraction of his hands, and a rod
of any kind of wood, or even of any material substance whatever, can
be used, provided it be a conductor of electricity. Dr. McClure’s
statements have excited considerable comment in England. The
phenomena of tests by the divining-rod are not by any means new.
They have never been described from a scientific point-of-view, nor has
any philosophical explanation of them ever been advanced, but there is
no question whatever of their existence, and of their being now regarded
by the most advanced scientists as beyond the region of
chicanery and imposture. Mr. W. J. Jenks, in a recent lecture on
“The Protection of Electric Light Stations from Lightning,” treats the
subject very exhaustively, and shows that where the ability to locate
electrical or magnetic attraction is vested in an individual the results
are absolutely reliable. He instances the case of two gentlemen of
Merrimac, Massachusetts, named Prescott, who for several years have
given displays of this rare faculty. As an illustration of the certainty
with which the Prescott brothers could indicate the location of electrical
attraction, Mr. Jenks gives a well-authenticated incident which took
place at Amesbury not long ago. Several old citizens were sceptical as
to the accuracy of the conclusions supposed to have been reached, and
determined on a severe test. Taking twenty or more citizens as witnesses,
they requested the Prescott brothers to accompany them, and
indicating a stretch of highway before them, some forty or fifty rods
in length, stated that some years previous lightning had struck on that
road, and wished to be informed as to the exact spot. Proceeding
several rods, two cross currents were marked out; both extending for
some distance in the travelled pathway and crossed by another at
right angles. Testing carefully the roads in both directions, this
electrical centre was pointed out as the greatest danger in the vicinity.
The party was then invited to examine an ancient volume of official
records, where it was chronicled that on the 7th of October, 1802, a
man who was driving two yoke of cattle was struck by lightning in that
exact spot and, with all his animals, was instantly killed. The occurrence
had been deemed at the time so remarkable that the circumstance,
with a minute description of the locality, had been recorded,
though long forgotten by all but perhaps a few of the oldest citizens.

The Dangers of Electricity.—The rapid spread of electric lighting
in America has not been accomplished without very considerable
loss of life. From a list compiled by Mr. Harold P. Brown, of New
York, we learn that eighty-seven persons have been killed up to the
commencement of this year. This is a very serious total, and if there
were any likelihood of the rate being maintained, it would supply
ample reason for very stringent legislative control being exercised over
all electric installations. Happily many of the accidents may be attributed
to the want of knowledge which always characterizes a new
manufacture, while numbers of them are also due to the hasty and
careless methods of erection adopted in America. Both these causes
may be expected to decrease rapidly in the future, particularly if the
municipalities insist on the mains being placed underground, instead of
being strung on poles in the streets. Mr. Brown is well-known from
his persistent opposition to the alternate current system; he never
misses an opportunity of insisting upon its dangers, and of comparing
it, to its detriment, with the direct-current system. Now as the
alternate system is rapidly spreading all over London and also in many
parts of the kingdom, this is a question which interests us directly.
Are we running special risks by permitting its establishment? As far
as lighting currents of fifty or one hundred volts are concerned, it
certainly matters little or nothing whether they are direct or alternate,
for neither will produce any serious injury on the human frame. When
it comes to currents of distribution of two thousand volts, then it is
quite conceivable that death is more certain by the alternate current,
but unfortunately it is also fairly certain with the direct current, so that
there is very little to choose between them. A house in which the
fittings were charged to such a potential would be as dangerous as a
battlefield. What is wanted is sufficiently good workmanship to prevent
contact ever being made between the distributing mains and the[Pg 16]
service wires, and this there should be no difficulty in obtaining.
Even if a leak should occur the device of putting the service main to
earth at one point will prevent it doing any harm. Mr. Brown refers
to two cases in which men were killed by contact with a perfectly insulated
wire, their death being caused by the static charge. We feel
considerable doubt as to the possibility of any one being killed by a
static charge under these circumstances; we prefer to believe that the
insulator was bad, probably a mere taping of non-waterproof material.
Just as the death-rate on a railway varies inversely as the perfection of
the signalling appliances, so the fatalities in America from electricity
will decrease as better materials are adopted, and more care is expended
in erection.—Engineering.

The Monolithic Church of St. Emilion.—About twenty miles to
the north-east of Bordeaux is Libourne, one of the principal towns
founded by Edward I. This flourishing commercial town was the ruin
of its neighbor, St. Emilion, which affords a fine field for the antiquary,
nearly the whole town consisting of buildings of the Middle Ages. A
considerable part of the town wall of the twelfth century remains, with
the ditch, now turned into vineyards, and at one corner is a fine house
of the same period, which is called the Palace of the Cardinal de la
Mothe, who may perhaps have resided in it; but it is at least a century
older than his time, and can hardly be later than 1200, as will at once
be seen by the details. The French antiquaries say that it was built by
the Cardinal in 1302, and speak of it as a remarkable synchronism in
art; but the fact appears to me simply incredible. The most remarkable
feature of St. Emilion is the monolithic church, which is probably
one of the most curious of its class. It is cut entirely out of the solid
rock, and is of early Romanesque character. The precise date is uncertain,
but it appears most probable that the work was commenced in the
eleventh century, and carried on through the whole of the twelfth. St.
Emilion is said to have lived in the eighth century. A fragment of an
inscription remains, the characters of which agree with the eleventh
century; but some of the French antiquaries attribute it to the ninth.
Others consider it as merely the crypt of the church above on the top
of the rock; but that church is of much later character, and it is much
more probable that the subterranean church was first made, and the
other built long afterwards, when the country was in a more settled
state. This church is 115 feet long by 80 wide. It consists of three
parallel aisles, or rather a nave and two aisles, with plain barrel-shaped
vaults, if they can be so called, with transverse vaults or openings, and
round arches on massive square piers; the imposts are of the plain early
Norman character, merely a square projection chamfered off on the
under side, but one of them is enriched with the billet ornament. There
are recesses for tombs down the sides, and a fourth aisle or passage has
been cut out on the south side, apparently for tombs only, as it has recesses
on both sides to receive the stone coffins. Still farther to the
south, but connected by a passage, is a circular chamber in an unfinished
state, with a domical vault, and an opening in the centre to a shaft
which is carried up to the surface. Whether this was intended for a
chapter-house, or for a sepulchral chapel in imitation of the Holy Sepulcre,
is an undecided point. I incline to the latter opinion. This subterranean
church or crypt is necessarily lighted from one end only,
where it is flush with the face of the rock; and these openings are filled
with Flamboyant windows, which are very evident insertions. On the
surface of the hill over this church, but with a large space of solid
rock intervening, is the tower and spire belonging to it. The tower is
of late Norman and Transitional character surmounted by a Flamboyant
crocketed spire. There is a kind of well or flue cut through the
rock under the tower into the church below, apparently for the bell-ropes.
In the church are remains of early painting, and some shallow
sculpture, the character of which appears to be of the twelfth century.
Adjoining to the church, on the south side, is a detached chapel of
transition Norman work, with an apse vaulted with good ribs and vaulting
shafts. A considerable part of the old painting is preserved; some
of the ribs are painted with zigzags. Under this chapel is a crypt or
cave cut out of the rock called the Grotto of St. Emilion, with a spring
of water in it. The work is of the same early character as the other
vaults.—J. H. Parker.

Another Tall Chimney.—A factory chimney, said to be the
highest in the world, is now being erected at the Royal Smelting-Works,
near Freiberg, in Saxony. The horizontal flue from the works to the
chimney is 1,093 yards long; it crosses the river Mulde, and then takes
an upward course of 197 feet to the top of the hill upon which the chimney
is being built. The base of the structure is thirty-nine feet square
by thirty feet in height, on which is placed a short octagonal transition,
from which the round shaft starts. This is 430 feet high, or altogether,
with the base 460 feet high, with an inside diameter of twenty-three feet
at the bottom, and sixteen feet and six inches at the top. It will take
1,500,000 bricks, and the cost is £6,000.—Exchange.

Site of a Locrian Town.—The site of an ancient city of the Locri
in modern Calabria, Italy, is in progress of excavation, under the direction
of Dr. Orsi. The modern name of the spot is Gerace. A temple
of six columns has been unearthed, and among the prizes is a Greek
group in Parian marble, showing a divinity with a fishtail, a horse and
a nude youth. The group is supposed to have been placed in the pediment
of the west gable. Other finds are awaited.—New York Times.

The Watkin Tower.—Four hundred plans have already been
received by the committee who offered prizes for the best and second-best
plan for the proposed Watkin tower—the English Eiffel. It has
been said that it will be so high that all that need be done when fog
comes on will be to enter the lift and in a few minutes be up in the clear
blue.—Boston Post.

Persian Court Art.—M. Georges Perrot will maintain in his forthcoming
volume on Persian art, being the fifth volume of “The History
of Art,” that the old art of Persia had nothing to do with the Persian
people, being simply official or Court art. The designers and builders,
sculptors and artists, were, he thinks, not Persians, but Greeks. The
architect of the palaces of Darius was a Greek or a Phœnician.—New
York Times.

There are signs of a subsidence of popular hostility to railroad combinations,
trusts and commercial and manufacturing organizations of various
kinds intended to conserve mutual interests. If the granger spirit had its
own way it would, through its control of the legislative mills, grind a good
many corporations to powder, and do tenfold more damage by its destructive
methods than could possibly be repaired by mistaken remedies. It is,
after all, a question whether any form of combination is possible which can
very long do much damage to the people at large. These gigantic commercial
and railroad organizations with which we have recently become
familiar are giant-like efforts of enormous interests to rise up out of old
conditions. Progress and development must take place, and the efforts of
trusts, associations and combinations by whatever name known are simply
the preliminary movements of mighty interests to reorganize themselves
upon a broader and higher platform. The people in their jealousy and
anxiety to protect themselves have, in some sections of the country, run into
the adoption of extreme measures. They are already preparing to retrace
their steps, and for several reasons. They are discovering that they have
been fighting a bugbear; also, that their legislation against the bugbear
cannot legislate. Also, that money stays away from radical communities,
that many possible advantages are lost; that combinations properly controlled
have, within themselves, the capabilities of accomplishing much
good. Despite the threatened damage of these monster combinations
prices have been quietly and steadily declining in nearly every direction;
railroad freights have slipped down, notch after notch. Association after
association has come and gone, and the Interstate Railway Law itself is in
danger of being set aside for something better. The people are learning to
have less fear of these combinations, and more confidence in themselves
and for the underlying laws of trade. The year ends with gratifying results
to business men in every avenue of activity. The action of the
Treasury Department furnishes a hint to the country that a large supply of
currency may soon become a necessity. The evil that would result from an
unexpected and prolonged financial stringency cannot be measured. Over
five thousand new corporations, firms and business associations have
started in the South last year, as against something like 3,700 for 1888.
Never in our history was there such an incubation of new business
ventures. A stringency in money will destroy these by the thousand.
Two or three scores of railroad enterprises which have reached the stage of
bond-issuing would also be thrown aside, and thousands of enlargements of
manufacturing and mining properties would be postponed; but it is useless
to borrow trouble, or to paint dismal possibilities, as it is to be presumed
that the people and their spokesmen fully understand the question.
There is not a single branch of business in which reasonable fault can be
found with results, excepting the one general result of very narrow
margins. Consuming-capacity, on the whole, has increased. The wage-earners
are earning as much as for years past, and are receiving more for
their expenditures; that is to say, less of the product of labor in the aggregate
is being absorbed by middlemen, or what might be termed non-productive
agencies. The production of labor is being more evenly and equitably
distributed than ever before. The ideal justice dreamed of by the
philosophic socialists is within reach. In short, the wage-worker is better
off, has more advantages, greater opportunities, and is yearly becoming a
more important factor in the Government.

As long as railway gross and net earnings continue to improve no reaction
is to be feared, according to the dictum of Wall Street. There are strong
probabilities that the favorable showing will continue. The anthracite
coal production for 1889 foots up 35,200,000 tons, as against 38,145,718 tons
for 1888. The distribution of soft coal throughout the New England and
Middle States for steam-raising and general manufacturing purposes is
gradually increasing. Last week’s distribution of Connellsville coke reached
the unprecedented figures of 125,000 tons. The production for the year
foots up over 4,500,000 tons. The expansion and development of industries
throughout the Middle and Southern States continues, and hundreds of
new enterprises will take shape early in the spring. Iron and steel makers
are projecting new furnaces and mills in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky,
Tennessee and Alabama. Some forty or fifty cotton mills are projected
between Georgia and Texas. Mining companies representing fully forty
million dollars of capital—that is, actual working capital—will begin
operations this winter along the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains.
Industrial and building activity will take a fresh start upon the Pacific
coast. Among the branches which will be developed will be saw-mill and
foundry building. Machinery, engines, castings of all kinds, stoves and
small iron and wood work are in great demand all along the coast from the
Columbia River to Los Angeles. A great deal of capital and enterprise has
been encouraged thither during 1889, and, as a result, manufacturing is
greatly stimulated. The Dominion Government is also alive to the importance
of developing relations with Asiatic and other foreign countries, and ship-lines
are projected from its western seaports to foreign countries. Railroad-building
is also being greatly stimulated by private enterprise. A
vast amount of capital is drifting into the Rocky Mountain and Pacific
coast regions from Eastern cities, and a great empire is being built up
there which will be a source of wealth to those who obtain possession of
land, timber, minerals and manufacturing facilities before the general enhancement
of values takes place. The benefits originally contemplated by
the construction of the trans-continental roads are now only being felt in
their intensity. Irrigation companies, heavily capitalized, are doing excellent
work in reclaiming vast tracts which geographers declared lost to all
future utility. Mining engineers who have made a very careful examination
and survey of much Western territory in the interest of Boston and
New York moneyed men furnish evidences of wealth in those sections,
which cannot but bring to them the money and enterprise necessary to
their full development. The smaller industries throughout the States east
of the Mississippi River are all doing well. Manufacturers are making
money, but not as rapidly as they would like. Competition is exercising a
healthy restraining influence. Like interests are being drawn together
through the spirit of organization. Manufacture and agriculture are evenly
balancing themselves. Commercial failures for 1889 show a moderate
increase, but, considering the rashness with which ill-equipped persons
enter into business and manufacturing, it is surprising that the failures are
so few.

S. J. Parkhill & Co., Printers, Boston.