The Builder, No. 2, February 18, 1843.




_SATURDAY, February 18, 1843._


The various speculations and expressions of opinion to which our
movements have given rise would, if accurately noted, supply the most
interesting exposition of what we have to contend with on the one hand,
and what we have to encourage us on the other. We should gather from
it the most convincing testimony of the necessity of some such effort
as that which we are now making to remove the general ignorance on all
points connected with Building, whether as regards the science or its
professors and practitioners. Grave and experienced men are to be found
who hold up their hands in astonishment at the rashness, as they consider
it, of our enterprise—men who argue upon general principles against the
success of our plan. They say the Builders are not a reading class, nor
a class at all, either in themselves or their connection, to support a
periodical like the one we propose to give. The publishers in particular,
and they, in their experience on all points connected with publication,
are certainly entitled to be considered oracles—the publishers generally
have but a mean opinion, or say they can form no opinion at all of the
probabilities of success. They confess themselves astonished at the
numbers of the Building Class; but they mistrust the conclusions to which
we have come upon the data which these numbers supply. So little have
publishers had to do with the Building Class, and so little the Builders
with the publishers, that they might have lived on the opposite sides
of the same globe as regards the acquaintance each has with the other
for any practical interchange of their mutual special interests; but we
propose to bring them into more intimate union, and to make the publisher
at least confess that he knew not one half the territory over which his
appointment was designed to extend.

But there are parties connected with the arts who might have been
supposed to have lived in something like a consciousness of the immense,
as it is intimate, alliance that subsists between them and the Builders
as members, it may be said, of one common fraternity; and these are as
ignorant of the more important facts as it is possible to suppose men to
be. An eminent sculptor addressed us the other day in a strain of this
character: “The Builders,” said he, “are too small a body to support a
class paper; look around you,” he continued, “and you find them dotted
here and there only, and not like the Shoemakers, or the Publicans, or
the Butchers, meeting you at every turn.” It should be stated that he had
seen our Precursor Number. We asked him if he was aware of the fact the
Carpenters alone outnumbered the Shoemakers, and that the whole body of
Builders are as five to one of that very numerous class: that in round
numbers we had 130,000 Carpenters, 60,000 Masons, 40,000 Bricklayers,
30,000 Painters, Plumbers, and Glaziers, and so on. And that these were
an intelligent, a reading, a thinking, and provident class, and well to
do in the world. At this he expressed his surprise, but yet in such terms
as to shew us that there was a leaven of incredulity mixed with it. Again
we referred to them as an advertising class, on which he seemed amazed,
but more so when we pointed out to him seventy-one advertisements in the
Precursor, and expressed our belief that shortly it would amount to five
times that number. On this head, indeed, it would be easy for us to give
convincing proof, were we so disposed, and we know not but we may, for
the curiosity of the matter, some day do it; we could print the largest
part of a paper in thickly-set advertisements pertaining to building,
and all selected from the London and provincial papers of one week: sales
and falls of timber, of brick earth, and minerals; of building land and
general building materials; businesses to be disposed of, contracts to
let, situations wanted, and the like; indeed, there is no such class, no
class so much in need of, and so well able to support their own weekly
paper. Other parties we have met with, and reports have been brought to
our ears, from men moving in the very ranks of the workmen themselves,
who express a most disparaging opinion, not of our objects, or our
exertions, but of their fellow-workmen; they say, in as many words, that
“we are throwing pearls before swine.” The plan is good, they admit; but
they urge that the mass of the workmen are too fond of amusements, and
so given to low and sensual indulgences, as to deny the hope that they
will, to any extent of numbers, seek to benefit by it. These people, we
are afraid, measure their class by themselves. Others again urge, that
the reading appetite is vitiated and depraved, and that unless we pander
to the passions of the multitude “by strong and exciting and vulgar
matter” (we use their own words), we may look in vain for subscribers.
Against all these we have to contend, and we are utterly opposed to them
in opinion on all such grounds as the foregoing; but in one point we
agree,—we certainly have an uphill affair. The ground we have chosen is
unoccupied and untrodden. We have a great task in reversing the usage
of centuries. We must, therefore, call upon the workmen themselves to
aid us in fighting their own battle,—not a battle against interests or
individuals, but against ignorance and exclusion. And we reiterate our
call on the friends of the working classes, for whose satisfaction, and
the satisfaction of all who care to know it, we now make our profession
of purpose as regards the end and object of our labours.

We do not want to inflame the mind of the workman with discontent; we
do not want to unsettle or disturb the relations of society; we do not
wish to raise any man above his proper condition. On the contrary, we
would promote and teach contentment; we would settle and consolidate; we
would give every man his own proper level. We consider that it is too
much the tendency of the agitation of these times to effect the opposite
of all this. The best words are perverted from their true meaning or
misunderstood; a false principle pervades and regulates our intentions,
and the world runs counter to its own wishes, by reason of its neglect of
simple truths, which he who runs may read.

As regards that much abused word education, and as to our purpose to
educate the workman, a right understanding will suffice to disarm it
of its terrors in the minds of many who have seen in its perversion or
abuse that which they have ascribed to education itself. What is an
educated man? Here we fancy we hear ten thousand voices exclaim, What a
question! And yet we challenge the whole of that ten thousand to give
the true answer, if they reply in the generally accepted meaning of the
term. Education is too frequently confounded with book-learning, and
that is considered to be knowledge which is only the key to it. Take
your educated man, as he is called, and put him into the workshop or the
sphere of operation in that art on which he descants so learnedly, and he
must give way (at first at least) to the unlettered, or, as he is termed,
the uneducated artificer and labourer. A mind well stored with the facts
that bear upon any particular art, may be likened to a well-furnished
chest of tools; but it requires a practised hand to apply those tools
with skill and to a useful purpose—all the rest is mere theory; and of
this sort of theory we have a great deal too much now-a-days.

Aye! we will take the rude, unlettered Carpenter of the most obscure
country workshop, and match him as an educated man against the most
learned pundit of our universities. We do not mean to say that the
Carpenter is a better man for his rudeness, or because he may read or
write badly, or not at all; but we take this as an illustration of the
meaning we attach to the word education in its practical sense, and we
will now say a word as to its bearing on the course we have chalked out
for ourselves.

It is true that the relations of society and its workings in these times
appear very mysterious, confused, and complicated; but what does it arise
from? Does any man imagine it to be more difficult to regulate domestic
or civic government now, than it was in the simplest state of pastoral
life? Not a whit the more, provided the education of the heart, the
bringing out of its virtuous tendencies be properly studied and promoted.
Teach the workman his duties in the several relations in which he is
placed, as much as you aim at making his skilful in the handling of his
tools, or the fashioning of his materials, and you have educated him for
the whole end of his existence; but he wants few or none of the theories
of matters that are above him.

It is to settle then, to calm or quell the agitation of purpose which now
disturbs the public mind, to do our part in this, as we conceive, great
work of national repair, to bring into harmony the now contending powers
and forces, and to assist in our humble way to direct them to one end and
object, of peaceful and profitable action, that our exertions will be
directed.

And how do we propose to do this? how do we aim to be useful in this work
of charity,—for surely charity it must be called which shall effect the
ends of peace? Why, by bearing in mind and acting upon the old proverb,
“Charity begins at home.” We begin with our class—we begin at home.

Oh! there are conquests more bright, achievements higher, glory greater
to be reaped in this sphere than in all the turmoil of politics, or
the dread strife of war! Let us wean our countrymen, but particularly
that great body of which we have the honour of being a member,—the
building class,—from the fretting and exciting consideration of subjects
which only tend to unhinge the mind and distract it from acquiring
that solid profit which a skilful exercise of his craft procures from
every intelligent workman, let the quiet habits of a steady industry
be enforced upon ourselves; let our curious and admiring thoughts be
bent, so far as business goes, upon the investigation of the principles
in science, and the properties in nature which affect the things we
construct, and the materials of which they are constructed; let the
workshop and the building have our working hours, and our homes and
families the rest, even to a participation in our studies, for these in
most instances may be made the interest, and now and then the delight of
every family circle.

Is it nothing, good countrymen and esteemed fellow-craftsmen, that we
have to boast of honours and achievements such as neither military
daring, or statesmanlike craft or wisdom has ever attained, or can attain
to. What are all the doings of the science of war or government compared
with the building up, on clear and well-defined principles, abstract
as well as tangible, those stupendous and imperishable memorials of a
country’s history which the works of the Architect and the Building
Artificer supply. After the lapse of ages of obscurity, we recover, by
means of the indelible tracings of the hand of the long departed, a
knowledge of the habits, character, and condition of the countries in
which they lived and worked. How much of the tale of British history of
the fourteenth century, and of following centuries, have to be recorded
by the architect and builder of these days? and by those whom their
present conduct will influence? How important then it is that there
should be none of the trifling in our department, and that we should be
alive to the importance of the functions we are called upon to exercise.

The humblest workman of the building class is charged with the duties
of the same mission. It will be our part to show them how this duty was
discharged in times gone by, and to engage them in the consideration
of such subjects, and in the labour of acquiring a similar mastery in
their craft with those whose works we call upon them to join us in
investigating.

It is thus that we propose to educate—the standard of mechanical and
moral excellence must be raised at the same time, and good citizens,
as well as able artisans and artists, be trained under one system and
together.




OUR CORRESPONDENCE.


It is a pleasing part of our duty to acknowledge the flattering
testimonials we have received in favour of our work. Certain of our
approving friends have taken the trouble to write, but many more have
called at the office, and expressed the warmest interest in the success
of THE BUILDER, with a determination to do all in their power to insure
it. The Royal Institute of British Architects have, by a special
resolution, directed their Honorary Secretary (Mr. Bailey) to acknowledge
the reception of our first number, and the Society of Arts have placed
it in their library, and thanked us for the presentation. These matters
are noted as shewing that a work of this class is recognized by important
public bodies as deserving of their especial regard; and we feel assured
that as we advance we shall find not only an admission but a welcome to
every public and private library in which the literature of art obtains a
place.

We have letters of encomium from architects as well as from builders
and working men; and as it is for the latter that we are most anxious,
feeling assured that when matters are right at the base of the social
structure, the ornaments are firmly fixed and supported, so we feel the
greater pride in perceiving the interest which the workman takes in our
labours. It is the architect, however, and the experienced and liberal
master builder, the clerk of works, and foreman, who can assist us to the
enlightening of the body of the craft; and we have one grateful specimen
of this species of co-operation, from a learned and eminent architect, an
extract from which we cannot forbear committing to print.

    “I should like to know whether THE BUILDER will assume the
    character of _Loudon’s Magazine_, or whether you intend it
    entirely for the working classes—if for the latter, shall
    you endeavour to bring before them the _principles_ of what
    they are called upon to labour at, or shall you endeavour to
    give them a taste for those acquirements which at present are
    supposed to be possessed by those who direct them? I do not
    fear any ill from raising the mental condition of the artisan,
    but see in it much good, at the same time, feel the difficulty
    of elevating the social condition of so large a mass of the
    community, and am desirous that when the attempt is made, it
    should be followed by success.

    “To inform the working classes how their labour was performed
    in ancient days, would be instructive and amusing, and would
    lead to a better style of workmanship. I will instance the
    carpenter’s employment—describe the tools, the style of
    setting out and executing roofs of the middle ages, where
    neither iron-work nor nails of any kind were employed. The
    scarfing, the manner of uniting the timbers, &c. &c., are all
    at variance with modern practice. Then the beautiful manner in
    which the whole is put together and balanced would be a study
    calculated to raise him in his own estimation, and satisfy him
    that he belonged to a superior class of artificers. Emulation
    would encourage him to do as well or better, to carry the
    same excellence into minor employments, or, at all events, to
    understand sufficient to derive pleasure from the examination
    of many of the specimens left us. A vast deal might be written
    upon the mere handicraft—much more upon the principles—more
    still upon the art; and when the design is taken up, the field
    is too spacious to put bounds to.”

The foregoing so well expresses many of our views that we can hardly
encumber it by a comment. We have in another place given our own opinions
on the question of “raising the mental condition of the artisan,” and we
have also in the same paper attempted to sketch out by what means and
for what end we propose to raise it. We shall, therefore, proceed to the
letter of another architect, which, as it regards the “getting up,” as it
is termed, of the paper, has a practical value in that sense, and will
enable us to explain a point or two in reference to it, that may give
satisfaction to many.

    “SIR,

    “As you have invited opinions of your precursor number of THE
    BUILDER, I take the liberty, as an architect, to express my
    gratification at the publication of so useful and desirable
    a periodical, and have very little doubt, if continued as
    promised in the address, of its becoming a work of great
    circulation, and one which will effect much benefit to the
    numerous classes connected with the building art, more
    particularly to the workman, providing you publish it at a
    price within his means, for at present, it is much to be
    regretted, this great class of persons are wholly denied
    the advantages derived by perusal of works on this science,
    owing to the high price at which they are from necessity
    published. I would therefore suggest you give this the fullest
    consideration, as I feel sixpence will be too high to give THE
    BUILDER the circulation you desire. Another point requiring
    attention will be as to the advertisements, both as to quantity
    and description. If general advertisements are received, it
    will not so well admit of the title you give to the paper,
    which should exclude many such as are in the Precursor; and I
    fear, without much less space is devoted, or that the number
    of advertisements is compressed by smaller type, you will
    experience a disappointment in the success of your undertaking.
    I again beg you will accept the thanks and best wishes of an

                                                        “ARCHITECT.”

Now as to price, we think the best answer we can give is the present
number. We have been advised to steer clear of too low a price at the
commencement, because of the admitted difficulty of alteration in such
cases, when found necessary to raise it. We hope no such necessity
will arise in this; that the largeness of the subscription-list and of
the number of purchasers will fully compensate us for any sacrifice we
may make in the outset. With regard to advertisements, it was our wish
to confine the list to such as bore directly on building, but to be
stringent in this respect would be to deprive the paper of a large power
of usefulness. Builders want almost every thing, and are consumers to
an immense amount of all sorts of commodities; wherefore, then, should
we refuse our columns to advertisements that inform the workman and the
master alike of the ready means of supplying their general daily wants?
But we make this promise, that the space given to advertisements shall
not defraud the inquiring reader of his full share of information and
of matter of trade interest; nor shall our friends the advertisers be
treated with less consideration for this resolve—the more they bestow
their favours upon us, the more shall we study to cater for their
advantage, and for every page they add to our sheet we shall in some way
or other give a page to the reader, so that the mutual workings of both
parties shall be for the mutual good.

We give the next letter, though of some length, entire. It, like the
first from which we made an extract, embodies so much of our views and
plans, that we would give Mr. Harvey the full credit of his own clear
perceptions, by letting it be seen how well he understands the subject
upon which he writes, as will be exemplified in the carrying out.

    “SIR,

    “The general invitation conveyed through the ‘precursor number’
    has induced me to offer a few remarks in reference to THE
    BUILDER.

    “‘The _discovery_ of the disease is half the _cure_;’ so in
    this instance, the primary point to ascertain is, what class
    stands most in need of the kind of publication contemplated
    in THE BUILDER. When the vast number directly and indirectly
    connected with building and mechanical pursuits is considered,
    there is certainly much cause for encouragement in such a
    project: at all events, it may be fairly concluded that there
    is a good _site_; and if the _foundation_ be well studied,
    there is but little fear of erecting a _durable structure_.

    “I have no doubt that THE BUILDER may be rendered worthy the
    patronage of all the numerous grades named in the list given in
    the ‘precursor number;’ but bearing in mind ‘the old man and
    his ass,’ I am of opinion, that out of these several grades,
    some particular class should be specially borne in view, and
    that upon the selection of this class mainly depends the
    success of THE BUILDER.

    “Upon a review of such literary works extant as may be
    deemed the property of that body to whom THE BUILDER is
    addressed, I think it will be found that no class of
    men are so ill provided for as _journeymen mechanics_
    generally, and this is the class that I would recommend
    to your preference in the conduct of THE BUILDER; to this
    class THE BUILDER ought to be considered invaluable in the
    dissemination of _practical knowledge_,—_extracts from works
    made inaccessible by their cost_,—_experiments_,—_hints on
    construction_,—_design_,—_enrichment_, and similar topics;
    which at the same time would be very acceptable to the more
    enlightened portion of the building community, and produce
    inquiry and improvement in the minds of the less experienced
    and youthful.

    “With this view but little will be expected or required of THE
    BUILDER in the character of a _newspaper_. Further than the
    limited notice of occurrences appertaining to its title, I
    would suggest the insertion of the _markets_, or current prices
    of building materials, &c. &c., and in particular, that an
    allotted space be given up to the subjects just referred to, to
    the exclusion of advertisements or any other matter. Probably
    once a fortnight might suffice for such a work; this point,
    however, with its price, I will not now enter upon, having
    already, I fear, trespassed too long on your attention.

    “Be assured of my interest in the success of THE BUILDER; to
    the aid of which my humble tribute will be given with much
    pleasure.

                   “I am, Sir, your obedient Servant,

                                                    “SIDNEY HARVEY.”

The next letter is from a plasterer, and we make it the occasion of
reiterating our intention to give designs of ornaments for plasterers.
There is a field of novelty and propriety open to them which we venture
to say has scarcely yet been touched upon. Hitherto architectural
ornament in plaster-work has been principally confined to imitations of
marble, or stone-work and wood. Now this is a perversion and a deception,
and a better principle will inevitably obtain, since just and sound views
of the principles of design and ornament are beginning to be inculcated.
So beautifully plastic a material has its own peculiar province in
decoration, and we shall take occasion, as we advance, to throw out
practical suggestions for ascertaining and working in it.

    “SIR,

    “It is with much satisfaction I have read the precursor of THE
    BUILDER, which I think will be well received by all persons
    in that line of business, for nothing can possibly be so much
    wanted for the trade in general as a publication of the sort
    you are about to send into the world. I have been a practical
    plasterer these thirty years, and have often expressed a wish
    that a useful intelligent paper might be published. I shall
    be most happy to become a subscriber. I am fearful there will
    be thousands read the Precursor, like myself, that will be
    proud to subscribe, but will not take the trouble to express
    themselves by letter, and then you may fancy it will not be
    taken up with spirit, though I am convinced, by the many
    persons, _indeed all_, that I have conversed with, that it is
    their intention to become purchasers the moment it is fairly
    out. Wishing you success,

                   “I am Sir, your obedient servant,

                                                    “B. J. MASKALL.”

We will insert two more of what we may term the professional, and
conclude with a complimentary note, lately received, from a gentleman
whom we have not the pleasure of knowing, and extracts from the first
that came to hand, as proofs, along with a great number of others, of a
deep interest being taken in THE BUILDER, as we predicted would be the
case, by the amateur.

    “SIR,

    “You invite a reply from your readers of the ‘Builder’s
    Magazine.’

    “To make a newspaper answer, it must be numerously circulated.
    I should advise to make it a _weekly paper_, to suit every
    mechanic or person engaged in the trade. I should recommend
    that it be like the _Illustrated London News_, to contain
    sketches of works in progress, new buildings, amounts of
    contracts, and other news relating to building. Also, to make
    it general (for nearly every workman takes a weekly paper), it
    must contain the heads of the news for the week. This would
    answer, without doubt, and I should like my name as a weekly
    subscriber.—Yours, &c.

                                                        “J. NESHAM.”

       *       *       *       *       *

    “SIR,

    “I approve much the plan of your proposed publication, and
    cheerfully offer myself a subscriber in whichever form it
    may appear; but would prefer it as a weekly magazine and
    advertiser, in which character I hope soon to see it, and
    wishing it all possible success.

                    “I am, Sir, yours respectfully,

                                                     “THOMAS ALLEN.”

       *       *       *       *       *

    “SIR,

    “I have only just had time to look into your valuable and most
    interesting work, THE BUILDER, which I took up by accident
    this morning. I am so convinced of its excellence, that I
    should feel greatly obliged if you would allow me to become a
    subscriber of the unstamped number, from the first, and supply
    me regularly with it, if you are in the habit of sending it to
    this neighbourhood.

                            “I am, Sir, &c.

                                                          “J. R. W.”

       *       *       *       *       *

    “SIR,

    “Last Saturday evening I bought the precursor number of THE
    BUILDER, and was so pleased with the contents, that I called
    again at your office to say that I meant to take it in myself,
    and that I had shewn it to a bookseller, who told me that he
    also would order it at once for his shop. At that time I had
    only taken a very cursory glance at the number, but on further
    inspection, I feel convinced that it must have a very great
    sale, and I am sure I heartily wish you every success. My
    answer to your question, as to whether a magazine or simple
    newspaper would be the better form of publication is this,—that
    though many would prefer it as a magazine only, yet many more
    would rather see the news of the week blended in its columns. I
    am no artist, I am no mechanic, but I am a very great admirer
    of architecture, particularly of country houses and rustic
    cottages, churches, gardens, &c.

    “I wish your new work was called ‘The Builder and Landscape
    Gardener.’ Views of parks and garden grounds, &c., ornamented
    with their castles, halls, cottages, &c., both of this and
    other countries, are at all times highly instructive and
    interesting.

    “To the greatest talent is united in your work that kindly
    feeling towards those who have to labour for their daily food
    that will carry you on triumphantly. That your undertaking may
    meet with a deserved and most abundant reward, is the sincere
    hope of yours, &c.,

                                                             “M. B.”

The suggestion contained in the last extract, as to the title, is one
upon which we are glad to make a few remarks, because the same suggestion
has been embodied in the observations of other friends, in different ways.

We have confined ourselves to the simple term “Builder,” as best
descriptive of all classes and crafts concerned in the art of building
itself, and the arts with which it is intimately allied. Were we to
attempt to give a title that should specifically explain the branches of
art and science to be treated in this work, we should occupy half a page.
Not only setting up houses or edifices, but, as we have said before,
preparing the materials—aye, even to the very question of the planting
and the culture of the oak and the pine, on which the future carpenter
is to exercise his ingenuity. As to the brick-field, the quarry, the
limekiln, the mine, the forest—consider what enters into the composition
and completion of a building, what machines and implements are employed
in working and preparing the materials, and its erection—what in the
furnishing and fittings—what in the garden and other appurtenances.
Consider all these, and you have engineering and machinery, cabinet-work
and upholstery, and finally landscape art, included. And as to building
science, or architecture, consider also its extensive range: the cottage,
the middle-rate dwelling-house, the mansion, the villa, the palace—there
is the labourer’s house of the country, and the labourer’s and workman’s
house of the town; the farmer’s dwelling in the one, and the tradesman’s
in the other—the farm-yard buildings and the corresponding workshop,
warehouse, and factory—the country “box” and the citizen’s suburban
retreat—the mansion of the country squire and that of the wealthy town
merchant—the parsonage, the church—the humble village church!—the street
of the pretty country village, the formal lines and gay shops of the
crowded city—the traveller’s way-side inn, the town hotel—the petty
sessions house, the county courts, prisons, workhouses, almshouses,
asylums, barracks—the halls of our cities, the concert-rooms, the
theatres, the great market-houses, the exchange for our merchants, the
parliament-houses, the palace, the cathedral!

Our subterranean structures, in drains and tunnellings; our pavements
and highways; our bridges, aqueducts, and viaducts; our railroads,
our lighthouses, harbours, docks, ports, defences. Consider
these, and we have not half exhausted the list—we dare not longer
particularize—consider these, and the numerous crafts and callings
engaged in them, and it will be at once seen that we should only weaken
the force and destroy the comprehensiveness of our title, THE BUILDER, by
any attempt to make it more comprehensive.

The following excellent letter has come to hand since the foregoing
summary was penned:—

    “SIR,

    “The delight with which any one connected with the erection
    of an edifice seizes a book or paper, bearing the title (THE
    BUILDER) heading your new publication, can be duly appreciated
    by those who have carefully studied the ‘Practical Builder,’ as
    published by Mr. Peter Nicholson, in the enlarged edition of
    1822.

    “In the perusal of which the idea of a work similar to the one
    shewn forth in the precursor number of THE BUILDER, has very
    often engaged my most serious attention, leaving no doubt on my
    mind of the very favourable reception the work would have from
    all parties engaged in the Building department.

    “Begin and continue on the broad principle of practical
    utility, making most prominent, works already executed, or in
    the course of erection, with a copious description, as also,
    plans, elevations, sections, and details of the most prominent
    features of the building or structure, illustrated, and the
    work, from its great utility, will take a place amongst the
    magazines of the present day, second only to the great magazine
    of the north.[1]

    “A large and beautiful field lies open before you, and by
    bringing before the public some of the noble metropolitan
    structures, the beautiful street architecture, and suburban
    villas, you will create a love for reading and study amongst
    a most important class, that will force THE BUILDER on, till
    it has attained the ‘Corinthian order’ as a magazine, and the
    companion of every artizan.

    “A magazine has always occurred to me as the best mode to
    bring the architecture of this country in its best form before
    the public, always acknowledging the name of the professional
    gentlemen employed in the erection illustrated; so much so,
    that I have often been tempted to suggest the idea to some of
    the London publishers, as there the erections are as a source
    inexhaustible.

    “Though THE BUILDER may be an instrument of much good, if
    correctness of plans and details are guaranteed, its fall will
    be as certain, if it should be a medium of ‘book-making,’ so
    often seen thrown before the public.

    “It will likewise add to the value of THE BUILDER, by
    continuing the portraitures of men so eminent in architectural
    skill as the noble-minded William of Wykeham, already
    illustrated in the Precursor number.

    “I would respectfully suggest the propriety of detaching the
    advertisements from THE BUILDER, so far as to allow a separate
    binding of the work.

    “Reviews of architectural works are also highly commendable in
    THE BUILDER, as they increase in quantity of late years; and a
    guidance to purchasers therefore is valuable.

    “With best wishes for the prosperity of the undertaking, in a
    continual increasing circulation, I must beg the forwarding
    to your correspondent here, such of the numbers as have been
    issued.

                     “I remain, most respectfully,

                                        “JOSEPH J. ROEBUCK, Joiner.”

    “Manchester-Road, Huddersfield, Feb. 13, 1843.”

    [1] Chambers’s.

       *       *       *       *       *

    “SIR,

    “Judging from a perusal of THE BUILDER that it is your
    intention to give to the building world the first information
    upon all matters connected with its interests, I beg therefore
    to apprize you that at this moment, a bill is preparing very
    secretly (at least the ground-work for one) for Parliament,
    upon which it is presumed, as secretly will be obtained, a New
    Building Act.

    “Whatever objections there may be (and I readily admit there
    are many) to our present Building Act, yet I do not think it
    requires altogether to be superseded.

    “From private information I learn, that the majority of
    clauses in the intended new bill, are exceedingly arbitrary,
    and calculated only to oppress the Builders without the least
    additional benefit to the public, and indeed, I am of opinion
    that if adopted, it will prove a source of great inconvenience
    and expense to all parties in any way connected with building.
    I should, therefore, recommend a Meeting of speculative
    Builders immediately, to take into consideration the best means
    to oppose the bill in Parliament.

    “I shall be most happy to give my best assistance in this
    matter, as also to forward the views of the proprietor of THE
    BUILDER.

                   “I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

                                              “JOHN REID, Surveyor.”

    “90, Canterbury-buildings, Lambeth,
    “February 14th, 1843.”

The foregoing letter came to hand as we were going to press. We have only
time to assure our correspondent that we will pay immediate attention
to the subject it refers to, and we invite further information from all
those who may be in the way of procuring it. At the same time we would
urge a calm and steady purpose in the pursuit of this or any similar
object of our vigilance.

Legislation on matters affecting building interests, above all things,
should be deliberate and not capricious. Much mischief may be done
by over anxious meddlings, indeed, we may say in this respect with
Shakspeare in Hamlet,

    “Better bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know
    not of,”

or run the risk of so doing.




ON METAL WORKS.

(_From Pugin’s principles of Pointed Architecture._)


We now come to the consideration of works in metal; and I shall be able
to shew that the same principles of suiting the design to the material
and decorating construction, were strictly adhered to by the artists of
the middle ages, in all their productions in metal, whether precious or
common.

In the first place, hinges, locks, bolts, nails, &c., which are always
_concealed in modern designs_, were rendered in Pointed Architecture,
_rich and beautiful decorations_; and this, not only in the doors and
fittings of buildings, but in cabinet and small articles of furniture.
The early hinges covered the whole face of the door with varied and
flowing scroll-work. Of this description are those of Notre Dame at
Paris, St. Elizabeth’s church at Marburg, the western doors of Litchfield
cathedral, the Chapter House at York, and hundreds of other churches,
both in England and on the Continent.

Hinges of this kind are not only beautiful in design, but they are
_practically good_. We all know that on the principle of a lever, a door
may be easily torn off its modern hinges, by a strain applied at its
outward edge. This could not be the case with the ancient hinges, which
extended the whole width of the door, and were bolted through in various
places. In barn doors and gates these hinges are still used, although
devoid of any elegance of form; but they have been most religiously
banished from all public edifices as unsightly, merely on account of our
present race of artists not exercising the same ingenuity as those of
ancient times, in rendering the _useful_ a vehicle for the beautiful. The
same remarks will apply to locks which are now concealed, and let into
the styles of doors, which are often more than half cut away to receive
them.

A lock was a subject on which the ancient smiths delighted to exercise
the utmost resources of their art. The locks of chests were generally of
a most elaborate and beautiful description. A splendid example of an old
lock still remains at Beddington Manor House, Surrey, and is engraved in
my father’s work of examples. In churches we not unfrequently find locks
with sacred subjects chased upon them, with the most ingenious mechanical
contrivances to conceal the keyhole. Keys were also highly ornamented
with appropriate decorations referring to the locks to which they
belonged; and even the wards turned into beautiful devices and initial
letters. Railings were not _casts of meagre stone tracery_, but elegant
combinations of metal bars, adjusted with a due regard to strength and
resistance.

There were many fine specimens of this style of railing round tombs,
and Westminster Abbey was rich in such examples, but they were actually
pulled down and sold for old iron by the order of the then dean, and even
the exquisite scroll-work belonging to the tomb of Queen Eleanor was
not respected. The iron screen of King Edward the Fourth’s tomb, at St.
George’s Chapel, Windsor, is a splendid example of ancient iron-work.
The fire-dogs or Andirons, as they were called, which supported either
the fuel-logs where wood was burnt, or grates for coal, were frequently
of splendid design. The ornaments were generally heraldic, and it was
not unusual to work the finer parts in brass, for relief of colour
and richness of effect. These form a striking contrast with the
inconsistencies of modern grates, which are not unfrequently made to
represent diminutive fronts of castellated or ecclesiastical buildings
with turrets, loopholes, windows, and doorways, all in the space of forty
inches. The fender is a sort of embattled parapet, with a lodge-gate at
each end; the end of the poker is a sharp pointed finial; and at the
summit of the tongs is a saint. It is impossible to enumerate half the
absurdities of modern metal-workers; but all these proceed from the false
notion of _disguising_ instead of _beautifying_ articles of utility.
How many objects of ordinary use are rendered monstrous and ridiculous
because the artist, instead of seeking the _most convenient form and
then decorating it_, has embodied some extravagancies _to conceal the
real purpose for which the article was made_! If a clock is required it
is not unusual to cast a Roman warrior in a flying chariot, round one of
the wheels of which, on close inspection, the hours may be descried; or
the whole of a cathedral church reduced to a few inches in height, with
the clock-face occupying the position of a magnificent rose window.
Surely the inventor of this patent clock-case could never have reflected
that according to the scale on which the edifice was reduced, his clock
would be about 200 feet in circumference, and that such a monster of a
dial would crush the proportions of any building that could be raised.
But this is nothing when compared to what we see continually produced
from those inexhaustible mines of bad taste, Birmingham and Sheffield;
staircase turrets for inkstands, monumental crosses for light shades,
gable ends hung on handles for door porters, and four doorways and a
cluster of pillars to support a French lamp; while a pair of _pinnacles_
supporting an arch is called a Gothic-pattern scraper, and a wiry
compound of quatrefoils and fan tracery an abbey garden seat. Neither
relative scale, form, purpose, nor unity of style, is ever considered by
those who design these abominations; if they only introduce a quatrefoil
or an acute arch, be the outline and style of the article ever so modern
and debased, it is at once denominated and sold as Gothic.




SUSPENSION ROOF.


TO THE EDITOR OF THE BUILDER.

SIR—I have introduced the suspension principle in two or three instances
with great success, where nothing else could have answered the purpose;
and as it was through you that the first impression was made upon my mind
of its practicability for building purposes, I at once send you a rude
sketch of the last one I have used. It is to carry a roof, lead-flat, and
ceiling; it is in connection with the old mansion, an enlargement of the
cooking kitchen, taking out the whole of the end wall, 16 feet wide, and
making or adding to the same a large bow, which is covered with lead. I
have marked the different parts as follows:

A. Suspension-rods secured to walls, 1 inch round, iron, flat in the
walls.

B. Screw bolts, 1 inch round, iron.

C. Nuts at bottom of bolts, and brace.

D. Brace, ½ inch round, iron.

E. Head to brace.

F. Iron plate under wood plate, 3 inches by ½ inch, flat.

G. Wood plate, 3 inches thick.

H. Lead-flat.

I. Joists to ditto.

J. Ceiling-joists.

K. Principal beam of roof.

I must give you to understand the bow, lead-flats, &c., were done before
I came here, and supported in a manner that gave offence to every one;
you will now perceive there is a straight ceiling and no obstruction to
light or any thing else.

The suspension-rods are fixed to the bolts as the link of a chain, the
brace screws them tight together, and the bottom nuts screw up and
camber the plate, which renders the whole complete and very strong. I had
it put together and fixed in about two hours, so that you will perceive
it can be applied in any situation without doing any damage, by merely
boring the holes and making good the joint round the bolts on either a
floor, roof, or flat.

I have applied others in different places, and have made them as
circumstances required, to carry scores of tons weight. They have given
the greatest satisfaction possible to all concerned.

I am happy to inform you that our architect and the master-builder
will both be subscribers to your valuable work. I think from this
neighbourhood you will have a dozen names.

                          Yours most obediently,

                                                 T. P. HOPE,
                                                 Clerk of Works, Richmond.

[Illustration]




THE ENTHUSIAST.


We beg to introduce the Enthusiast to our readers, for such the world is
pleased now and then to call him; his real character, however, shall be
judged of by the reflecting and considerate; the name may stick to him
as a matter of small account, for a wiser man than ourselves has said
“there’s nothing in a name.”

When we speak of the reflecting and considerate, it is not to be implied
that all persons do not at times and in their way reflect and consider;
but it is hard to do so while we are involved in the business of ordinary
life; like players at cards, we are absorbed in the calculations that
affect them, and in the consideration of the “hand” we hold. We find
even the most skilful, straining to recollect himself of the past
progress, and speculating on the future chances of the game—so it is
with the mass of human beings. Could we look but on as cool spectators
of the games, and shifts, and moves of general life, we should pity,
smile, expostulate, reprove, where now at best we give a vacant look,
an unmeaning sigh, rage and burn, as in turns we feel the instinct of
weakness or passion, and are driven to act under their impulses—but
we are drawing the portrait of the multitude, and losing sight of the
Enthusiast.

How shall we catch his likeness and how present it to our readers? It
must be drawn with many lines and a patient hand. We are not limners,
or choose not to be, who cut out profiles in black, with a pair of
scissors; nor can we daguerrotype him at a glance. No! The Enthusiast
must be the subject of many sittings, though we may give a complete
feature or, sketch at each of his aspect for the day; and in doing so, we
promise ourselves what we hope will be largely shared in by our readers,
a fair amount of interest and gratification.

Enthusiast has some eccentricities, or to speak more plainly, has
his oddities. Tell him so however, tell him as a friend, and he is
enthusiastic to rid himself of his oddities. He has friends who now and
then tell him so; he has enemies who also take the same liberty; but
it is ten to one, if you examine it, that both friends and enemies,
in specifying some particular oddity, confront and contradict each
other, and leave the poor Enthusiast not wiser, but more perplexed,
between them. Indeed, so much do they themselves blunder, and so much of
guess-work is there in their opinions, that to give things their right
names, judging from effects, we should call the friend an enemy, and
the enemy a friend. The only conclusion we can come to is by canvassing
the motives of each, to decide that the well-meaning and evil-doing are
ranged on the one side, and the evil-meaning and well-doing on the other.
So odd are many things and many persons besides Enthusiast; but we are
again sketching from the crowd, and Enthusiast sits impatient, or rather
his friends are impatient, which with them is much the same thing.

Enthusiast is an architect! Upon my word, some one will exclaim, what
is coming to us now-a-days?—architects and architecture are obtruded
upon us at every turn; and a certain lady of a certain age (which means,
as everybody knows, no very large portion of a century) indignantly
expostulates against this attempt to engross the public mind and
attention with these “new fanglements” of a profession and an art which
her father and grandfather’s days could very well do without. “Formerly,”
she says (which means about the ancient period of her youth), “we hardly
heard the mention of such things. Architects, indeed! formerly the word
even was scarcely so much as known among us. I recollect,” says she,
“having my attention forced upon it somewhere in my school readings, in
some out of the way chapter or exercise, which poor Mrs. Cross-stitch
imposed on me at the ‘finishing’ of my education. I recollect reading
something about architecture, and how I mispronounced the word, and how
Mrs. Letterhead, our class mistress, told me to pronounce the ch like
k; and how she gave us a spelling task with that and several other hard
words to learn at home in the evening, and how my poor father, when he
_heard me_ my task at my bed-time, had a dispute with our neighbour,
Percy Fullpurse, as to which was the greater personage, the archdeacon
or the architect; for they both insisted that Miss Letterhead was wrong
in her _pronounciation_, as Percy had it; and how Percy, who was a great
authority with us, for we thought riches and wisdom went very much
together, decided that the archdeacon and the architect had nothing to
do with each other, but that the architect was something he could not
exactly tell what or how, but he believed had something to do with the
quarter of the Archipelago, with which also he had nothing to do. All
this I recollect, and certainly, though I may now smile at the ignorance
of my poor father and neighbour Percy, yet I am not bound to hold with
all that we are hearing and having dinned into our ears every day. Almost
every third person I meet with has some friend or friend’s friend who is
an architect, or is acquainted with an architect—and I meet with them at
parties; and there is Cousin Symmetry has placed his son by his first
wife as pupil to an architect; but what call can there be, or what to
do for so many architects? Architects, like Proctors, should keep their
places, and some two or three of them inhabit a cathedral town, to take
care of those fine old buildings and the churches, for the churchwardens,
they say, do not look to those things properly; but, Lord bless us, do
not let us be bored with architecture at every turn. Let them have a
bookseller specially to themselves, if they will—and now I think of it,
I recollect something of an old established shop in that way somewhere
in Holborn; but here I see Messrs. Longman are publishing works on
architecture, and Mr. Tilt pushing them before one’s noses, and Bell &
Wood, and others, as the advertisements tell us. Nay, to crown all! there
is that very Boz, in his new work, _Martin Chuzzlewit_, beginning with an
architect, which, by the way, proves what I have always said, that he is
wearing out his subjects—and mind what I say again, it will break down!
He should take popular characters and popular subjects; but an architect!
Why, not one in a thousand knows or cares any thing about architects.
Trash! and now just do look at this—a weekly paper, called THE BUILDER!
and another character to be drawn out—an Enthusiast, who is also an
architect! Well, upon my word, that is good! We have heard of castles
in the air; I suppose we are going to have a builder of them, and that
this Enthusiast is to be the architect. Well, that is as it should be—the
clouds for the architects, and the architects for the clouds.”

But when shall we sit down to our business?—Miss Fatima Five-and-forty
has had the turn of our pencil, and Enthusiast still awaits its return.

Enthusiast is an architect; that is, he is so for this limning; for
Enthusiast enters into most things, and is the life and soul of them.
We cannot go into his parentage, to shew how he is allied to, or of the
family of, the Geniuses; but really it is a difficult task this sketching
that we have undertaken, and reminds us of one of George Cruikshank’s
humours, under the head of “Ugly Customers;” not that we are so much out
of love with our subject as with the task we have undertaken.

Do excuse us, good readers, for a while longer, and we will tell you
a story about this same Enthusiast. It is a trick of some of our
contemporary painters, to beguile the sitter by a conversation on some
topic which throws him from the restraint of posture-making; perhaps
if we try it, Enthusiast may be caught in a more favourable attitude,
and we may close the day with some success for our hitherto failing and
disappointed pencil.

Enthusiast was one day engaged in a discussion with a lady friend, and
had, in the usual warmth of his manner, been descanting on the beauties
and properties of Church Architecture in connection with the proposed
erection of a suitable structure of this class in a wealthy manufacturing
town. “It should be a cathedral,” said he, “at least in dimension, in
aspect, in decorations and appointments.” He had dwelt on the peculiar
features it should possess, on the facilities that could be commanded, on
the energies that ought to be exerted, and so on, when he was cut short
in his rhapsody by the cruel observation of the lady,—and a common one it
is,—“There is no money for such things now-a-days.”

Casting his eyes around, as if in a reverie of thought, he scanned the
character of the various luxuries of the well-appointed drawing-room
in which they sat. Glancing from the broad mirror boldly superposed on
the massive carved chimney-piece of Carrara marble, which in its turn
enclosed the highly-polished steel and burnishings of a costly Sheffield
grate and its furniture, to the rich silk hangings of the windows—their
gilded cornices and single sheets of plate-glass—thence to the chairs of
rosewood and ivory inlaid, the seats of silken suit—the companion couch
and ottoman of most ample dress—the curious and costly cabinet, the
screens, the gold-mounted harp, the “grand piano.”—Pacing once the length
of the room on the gay velvet of the carpet, he turned again and rested
his view on the table, choicely decked with books, most expensive in all
the appliances of paper, type, illustration, and binding—having done all
this, with breath suppressed and stiflings of emotion, which fain had
broken out with a scornful repetition of the lady’s words, “there is no
money for such things now-a-days,” he quietly disengaged himself of his
passion, and by an apparently easy transition ran on thus:

“I have been calling to mind some of my early readings, and most
prominent just now is the recollection of the observations of Hope when
treating the subject of Egyptian Architecture and commenting on the
vastness of the Pyramids; he enters into a speculation as to the means
by which the people of that country under the Pharaohs were enabled
to find the leisure, or the time necessary for the construction of
such stupendous works, and he ventures to ascribe it to the natural
fertility of the soil caused by the annual over-flowings of the Nile,
thus demanding less from the Egyptians of the labour and care of
agriculture; and hence the drift of their exertions in the direction
of architecture. True, the bounty of nature would go a long way in
supplying to the cravings of art the leisure and opportunity for
gratification. True, those pyramids are evidence of the direction of
great means and great powers to an end which astounds more than it
edifies us, but what were the bounties of Egypt’s irrigating water,
what the greatness of their pyramids compared with that bounty which
Providence has given us in the mineral and the out-growing mechanical
characteristics of this favoured country, and the pyramids which we
erect as if in emulation of Egyptian vanity and inutility?” “Pyramids!”
interrupted the lady, “Ah, it is always so with you, to propound to us
first some extravagant project, and when driven from your ground by a
common sense and practical answer, to take shelter in some ambiguity
or paradox. Pyramids, Sir,—what is your meaning?” “Here,” said the
Enthusiast, “here, madam, are stones from some of the English pyramids,
of which your Scotts, and Byrons, and Bulwers, and Marryatts have
been the architects. Compare the labours, and the end of the labours
of these ingenious minds with those of the architects of the Egyptian
pyramids, and tell me then the difference in amount. See the glories and
untiring industry of him of Abbotsford, devoted to an incessant wearing
out of the energies of his mind in designing pyramids of fiction—look
on the ant-like bustle and activity of the thousands whom he brought
into requisition to be engaged in the building—look at the millions of
devotees who have prostrated and continue to prostrate themselves at
these great entombments of his genius.—The paper-makers—the printers—the
artists employed in illustration—the binders—the booksellers—the
advertizing—the correspondence—the carrying—volumes, pyramids of volumes
to advertize alone—an endless train of carriages and lines of road for
the conveyance—the Builders and makers employed on all these—and on
the establishments of printers, booksellers, &c.—and then the excited
million of expectants, the absorbed and half-entranced readers—the
hours, days, weeks, months, and years of reading—the impatience of
interruption till the whole delusion is swallowed—the readings again
and again—the contagion from the elders to the younger—children even
bewildered with the passion to peep into, to pore over, and last, to
read as rote-books these little better than idle fables—bootless in
their aim and object, and pointless in all but their rival obtuseness
of the mountain-mocking pyramids. The fertility, the leisure, and the
vanities of Egypt!—oh, madam, their country was sterility—their leisure,
incessant bustle compared with what we enjoy; and their vain direction of
labour and thought not to be named after this enumeration of vanities.
Pyramids!—where they had one we have ten. Where ages were required by
the Egyptians, we in as many years outvie them, and yet your answer to
my aspirations is, “We have no money for such things as these!”

Reader, we have beguiled ourselves and you, and not the Enthusiast, into
a sitting; and one feature is sketched of his likeness and his character.




STREET SWEEPING MACHINE.


We give the following notice in connexion with the subject of Wood
Pavements, believing, as we do, that the efficiency of that mode of
paving greatly depends upon its being kept clean; an object which this
invention will materially facilitate.

_Patent Self-Loading Cart, or Street-Sweeping Machine._

The Self-loading Cart has been lately brought into operation in the town
of Manchester, where it has excited a considerable degree of public
attention. It is the invention of Mr. Whitworth, of the firm of Messrs.
Joseph Whitworth & Co., engineers, by whom it has been patented, and is
now in process of manufacture. The principle of the invention consists
in employing the rotatory motion of locomotive wheels, moved by horse or
other power, to raise the loose soil from the surface of the ground, and
deposit it in a vehicle attached.

It will be evident that the self-loading principle is applicable to a
variety of purposes. Its most important application, however, is to the
cleaning of streets and roads. The apparatus for this purpose consists
of a series of brooms suspended from a light frame of wrought iron, hung
behind a common cart, the body of which is placed as near the ground
as possible, for the greater facility of loading. As the cart-wheels
revolve, the brooms successively sweep the surface of the ground, and
carry the soil up an inclined plane, at the top of which it falls into
the body of the cart.

The apparatus is extremely simple in construction, and will have no
tendency to get out of order, nor will it be liable to material injury
from accident. The draught is not severe on the horse. Throughout the
process of filling, a larger amount of force is not required that would
be necessary to draw the full cart an equal distance.

The success of the operation is no less remarkable than its novelty.
Proceeding at a moderate speed through the public streets, the cart
leaves behind it a well-swept track, which forms a striking contrast with
the adjacent ground. Though of the full size of a common cart, it has
repeatedly filled itself in the space of six minutes from the principal
thoroughfares of the town before mentioned.

The state of the streets in our large towns, and particularly in the
metropolis, it must be admitted, is far from satisfactory. It is
productive of serious hindrance to traffic, and a vast amount of public
inconvenience. The evil does not arise from the want of a liberal
expenditure on the part of the local authorities. In the township of
Manchester, the annual outlay for scavenging is upwards of 5,000_l_. This
amount is expended in the township alone. In the remaining districts of
the town, the expense is considerable. Other towns are burdened in an
equal or still greater proportion. Yet, notwithstanding the amount of
outlay, the effective work done is barely one-sixth part of what would
be necessary to keep the public streets in proper order. In the district
before referred to, they were a short time ago distributed into the
following classes, according to the frequency of cleaning them:—Class
A,—once a week; B,—once a fortnight; C,—once a month. It may be safely
asserted, that all these streets should be swept, at least, six times
oftener. The main thoroughfares, as well as the back streets and confined
courts, crowded with the poorer part of the population, absolutely
require cleaning out daily. But the expense already incurred effectually
prevents a more frequent repetition of the process. The expensiveness of
the present system, in fact, renders it altogether inefficient; nor is
there any chance of material improvement in this important department of
public police, unaccompanied by a corresponding reduction in the rate of
expenditure.

       *       *       *       *       *

According to the _Kunctsblatt_, a German painter, Edward Hansen, of
Basle, has been commissioned to prepare cartoons for the oil paintings
intended to decorate the church at Oscott, which Mr. Pugin is about to
build at the Earl of Shrewsbury’s expense. One of the designs, “The Last
Judgment,” is spoken of as exceedingly beautiful. On the same authority,
we learn that Thorwalsden has sustained a loss by the wreck of a ship,
bound from Leghorn to Hamburg. On board were several of his works, most
of which were saved, but were completely spoiled by the sea-water; from
which we infer that they were plaster casts.




Gothic Architecture.

[Illustration: Westminster Hall Roof.]


CHAPTER I.

We now beg to draw attention to what we consider will be found the most
important feature in this number, inasmuch as it is the commencement
of the task with which we have charged ourselves to enter upon the
investigation and elucidation of the character and principles of Gothic
Architecture.

We use this unhappy term, Gothic, for no other reason than that as we
address ourselves mainly to the workmen, and as the style of architecture
so designated (originally in opprobrium) has now and for long obtained
the appellation in a popular sense, we feel unwilling to depart from it
until a thoroughly correct epithet shall have been devised and accepted
amongst us; that we are justified in this decision, or rather indecision,
we think may be shewn by the various opinions of parties who may be said
to rank as the authorities on such points. Mr. Pugin is anxious that it
should be called “Pointed, or Christian Architecture.” Mr. Whewell and
others have lately been pleading for a title which the prevalence of
vertical lines and principles of construction, as in contradistinction
to the horizontal character of Greek architecture, appear to them to
justify; others again have contended for the term “English Architecture.”
Now, without committing ourselves to an opinion of our own, we think
there is sufficient ground for hesitating as to the adoption of this
or that novelty, notwithstanding our strong objection to the inapt and
absurd term “Gothic.”

Our task will be formidable, as to the length of time it will occupy,
the pains-taking it will require, the expense it will entail upon us,
and, above all, the system with which it must be conducted. But what
good thing is to be accomplished without some one or more of all these?
We only hope to be cheered on by the approving smiles and the patient
co-operation of those for whom we undertake it.

And how do we commence this task, so as to give promise that a system
may be observed, without which the best efforts in other respects are
likely to fail? It will not do to enter upon it at random, or without
due preparation, both on our own part and that of our readers. We shall,
therefore, proceed to state our object in selecting the illustration we
have done as the heading of this paper.

Let the carpenters look to it, and let them look on it with pride—nay,
let them look on it as we have done, with reverence. Let them remember
that this was the work of great spirits of their department. It
is a master-piece, and we have chosen it on this account, as we
shall continue, for some weeks to come, to make choice of similar
master-pieces, in the masons’ department. Oh! we have such glorious
examples at our hands. And then, again, as to ornamental brickwork, and
brass and latten work, and that gorgeous coloured glazing, and such
mastery in the carvers’ and sculptors’ art; these we choose, to fire the
breasts of our readers. We would excite them by such glowing description
of the land of promise into which we propose to lead them, that the
future steps, however irksome or laborious, may be trodden with a light
and gladsome foot. For the present, then, and as we have said, for weeks
to come, we shall select the instances of varied excellence in roofs,
vaults, arching, in traceried windows, doorways, screens, in elaborate
specimens of “bench carpentry,” such as stalls, pulpits, railings,
tabernacle and screen work, in monumental brasses and other memorials of
sepulture, in moulded and enriched brickwork; the encaustic and coloured
pavements, the staining in glass, and generally all such matter in the
province of the artificer as may be regarded with the admiring eye of the
discerning practitioner.

Borrowing a similitude from what we are otherwise bound to deprecate, we
would speak of these as the trophies of our predecessors in campaigns of
glory, bidding every good soldier in this day of later, though of similar
service, to burn with ardour until he may have successfully emulated the
doings of his ancestry.

Yes, every carpenter should feel proud of a calling which enrols him in
the ranks of a craft whose arms are emblazoned and charged with insignia
such as these; but we promise the same evidences of distinction to every
department of the building fraternity.

This Westminster-Hall roof, spanning over an area of 74 feet wide and
270 feet in length, rearing its ridge to the height of 90 feet, exhibits
in its application a proof of the progress of working upon a principle
which is, in the present day, somewhat too much decried. Originally that
Hall was otherwise covered in; doubtless, in the same manner as the halls
at Norwich and York; that is, with a roof supported by pillars; but the
decay, or perhaps destruction by fire, of the original roof, gave scope
to the genius of advanced science, which, disdaining to merely restore,
applied this noble emendation,—with such happy effect, however, as not
only to reconcile us to a departure from the original models, but to lead
us to applaud the “_innovator_.”

The illustration we have given has been made pictorial rather than simply
geometrical; because, as we have already observed, our object now is not
to enter into a critical examination, which would with such a subject
be beginning at the wrong end, but to give a comprehensive glimpse of
that end to which we must by another process patiently steer. This plan
will enable us, too, to give much more effect to our future instruction,
inasmuch as it will enable a greater number of readers to become our
companions in the paths of study and research. After we have occupied
what appears on all hands to be a sufficient number of our series in
illustrations of this class, we shall commence with the simple rudiments
of Gothic art, citing first from the most ancient specimens the various
features of the edifices of the period, and accompanying it by a glossary
of terms and such matter of description as will give the series the
character of a workman’s hand-book or manual.

Take, for instance, the subject of Roofs as now brought before us. We
have in this draught or picture, a kind of summing up of that which it
will be our duty to go through in detail, as to style, construction, and
workmanship. In Masonry, though the end may be one of those embodied
marvels of the imagination, the almost over-wrought canopy of a stone
ceiling or roof; and which end, as in the case of this week’s carpentry,
we may present to view; yet the beginning of our studies will be some
rude effort of a Saxon chisel, and their continuation, to trace through
the various eras the change and progress, until we arrive, skilled as
masters, to analyze and fully understand the intricacies of science and
art involved in these objects of our setting out.

By this we hope to give a thoroughly practical character and value to our
pages, and that this will be in nowise diminished, if we shew ourselves
now and then susceptible of emotions of almost ecstatic delight, while we
contemplate those almost superhuman efforts of the skill of the mid-æval
architects and workmen.

In concluding the present chapter, we beg to state that we have copied
the drawing at its head from the beautiful work known as Britton and
Brayley’s Westminster.




Reviews.


_First Additional Supplement to the Encyclopædia of Cottage, Farm, and
Villa Architecture and Furniture._ By J. C. LOUDON, F.L.S., &c. London:
Longman and Co.

It was said by the _Times_, of the Encyclopædia to which this is a
supplement, that “no single work had ever effected so much in improving
the arrangement and the external appearance of country dwellings,
generally,” and nothing that was ever said by that influential journal
had in it greater truth. We scruple not to go out of our way to subscribe
in full to this opinion. And we say more, that no man living has ever
laboured more assiduously, generously, and usefully, to effect every
practical improvement in the building art, than our good and worthy
friend Mr. Loudon.

And why should we scruple or be ashamed to confess the strength of our
partialities for one of whom we entertain such an opinion? It may be
said,—but no! we will not do any man the injustice to suppose that he
will say any thing in disparagement of our motives, and certainly none
will be so ungrateful as to undervalue the honest disinterestedness of
our friend. See him, read his works, and if any one after that retires
with a feeling of less reverential respect than our own, we will give him
license to bate us for a partiality of an over-measured and unfair amount.

What if he has put at our service in the Precursor Number and in this
review the choice of those pleasing illustrations that adorn his works?
We point to these as additional proofs of his title to the respect and
esteem of our readers. He was influenced, we know full well, by that
same generous purpose which has sustained him through life, which has
made him to triumph over physical difficulties and to stand now a living,
and to be a memorable instance of the supremacy of mental over material
power. He will pardon us, if in the honest excess of our gratitude on
personal grounds, but much more in our humble capacity as of the “craft”
for whom he has so well laboured—a gratitude which took possession of our
minds through the reading of his works long before we knew him—he will
pardon us, if, unrestrained by a sense of the little pain we may cause
him on the one hand, we thus tender to him that which we are assured,
will on the other be acceptable—our honest and undisguised, but feeble
expression of grateful esteem.

As we profess to teach not so much by criticisms, which after all can
have but little weight, or at any rate little more than the opinion
of an individual, and when delivered with an air of authority that the
test of inquiry would dissipate, only make criticism ridiculous, and
confirms error; as we teach not so much by criticisms as by joining
in the commendations of generally acknowledged good; and as every one
who has travelled on the North Midland Railway has acknowledged, that
the station-buildings on that line have more of the picturesque and
attractive than any thing of the kind on our other railways, we have a
pleasure in transferring from Mr. Loudon’s Supplement the accompanying
elevation of “a cottage in the style of the Ambergate Railway Station,”
by Mr. Francis Thompson, who was also the architect of that station,
and it will readily be admitted that there is a meritoriousness which
entitles this design to the regard which that gentleman’s other works
have obtained.

[Illustration]

The next selection which we make is a design, by Mr. E. B. Lamb, of “the
Keeper’s Lodge at Bluberhouses,” which, it appears, was built, with
some slight variations, for Sir F. R. Russell, Bart., on his estate of
Thirkleby Park, Thirsk, Yorkshire.

[Illustration]

In Mr. Loudon’s text there are some judicious remarks on the elevations;
the construction is also described, and plans likewise given, as indeed
with all the designs, both of this supplement and its parent or precursor
volume. The supplement alone contains nearly 300 engravings.

The next design is also by Mr. Lamb, and is one out of a number of “small
villas in the Gothic style,” originally intended to be built near
Gravesend. We have not space to transfer Mr. Loudon’s critique, and are
precluded by the rule we have laid down from any observations of our own.

[Illustration]

In a future number it is our intention to return to this subject, and,
in connection with the question of the improvement of labourers’ and
workmen’s dwelling houses, several plans for which are now before us, we
shall have the assistance of Mr. Loudon’s matured lucubrations, as given
in the Encyclopædia and the Supplement.




Architectural College.


An Architectural College was founded in London, on Advent Eve, 1842,
for the cultivation of the various branches of the art, under the
denomination of the “_Free-Masons of the Church, for the Recovery,
Maintenance, and Furtherance of the True Principles and Practice of
Architecture_.”

It appears that the objects contemplated in the foundation of
this Institution are the rediscovery of the ancient principles of
architecture; the sanction of good principles of building, and the
condemnation of bad ones; the exercise of scientific and experienced
judgment in the choice and use of the most proper materials; the
infusion, maintenance, and advancement of science throughout
architecture; and, eventually, by developing the powers of the College
upon a just and beneficial footing, to reform the whole practice of
architecture, to raise it from its present vituperated condition, and to
bring around it the same unquestioned honour which is at present enjoyed
by almost every other profession.

It is proposed, by having numerous professors, contributors, and
co-labourers, to acquire a great body of practical information; and
that, whenever any knowledge of value shall be obtained by the College,
the same shall be immediately communicated to each of its members,
without waiting for the production of a whole volume, and before the
subject-matter shall have lost any of its professional interest.

By the appointment of a “_Professor of Architectural Dynamics_,” the
gravitation of materials will be taught to the student in practical
architecture: thence in all designs the present mystery, in which the
quantity of materials merely absolutely requisite to cause a building
to hold firmly together, may be ended; architectural designs may in
future be made on certain principles of stability, and therefore on
principles of natural and philosophical taste; and through the economy
of discharging from buildings all lumber, as is the case with all living
members of the creation, the architect will be enabled to restore to his
work, frequently without extra expense, the carving and other exquisite
beauties for which ancient architecture has in every age been celebrated.

By the appointment of a “_Professor of Architectural Jurisprudence_,” it
is judged that the practical profession of architecture will be rendered
more sure, through the acquirement of fixed and certain rules relative to
contracts, rights of property, dilapidations, and other legal matters.

By having a “_Professor of Architectural Chemistry_,” it is confidently
expected that a more certain method will be assured to the practitioner
in the choice of proper and durable materials.

By the appointment of the various other professors and officers, it is
judged that the very best information will be obtained upon all material
matters connected with the science and the practice of architecture,
and that a degree of perfection will be thus induced, and will thus mix
itself with the practice and execution of the art in a manner which is
not now very often the case.

As a first labour of the College, it is proposed that the present
unsatisfactory division and nomenclature of pointed architecture shall be
remedied, and that all the publications of the society upon that subject
shall be issued according to such classification and nomenclature. Not
indeed that the perfecting of so desirable a project can be expected
at once; but such a nomenclature can be laid down as shall immediately
distinguish the different members of the art, which are as numerous as
those of heraldry; and these can be superseded by more primitive or more
simple and energetic terms, as they shall be recovered from ancient
contracts and other documents, or shall be invented by more judicious
and mature consideration. But to prevent doubt or future mistake, it is
proposed that a cut of each intended object shall be executed, and that
a reference shall be made to where exemplars of it are to be found, and
also to its chronology.

Further, it is proposed to render this College still more useful, by
joining with it a charitable foundation, for the behoof of those and
their families over whom it shall please Providence, after a life devoted
to the service and practice of architecture and its dependant arts, that
need shall fall.

This institution, the scope of which is most extensive, is silently, but
rapidly forming, and has already connected with it many of the chief men
of the literature and science of architecture: few of those whose names
will be found amid the subjoined list have not distinguished themselves
by the authorship of some eminent architectural work, and many of them
are well known in the sciences and arts connected with architecture. A
power, an order, and a propriety previously unknown in the profession
since the fall of pointed architecture in the sixteenth century, are
being worked out, by having every man at his post, and with ability to
fill that post well.

Twelve meetings of the College are appointed to take place in every year,
and four have already been held.

The following elections have taken place:—

_Advent-Eve_, 1842.

    1. Edward Cresy, Esq., F.S.A., Architect of Trafalgar-square,
    as Professor of Pointed Architecture.

    2. Thomas Parker, Jun., Esq., of Lincoln’s-Inn, as Professor of
    Architectural Jurisprudence.

    3. Valentine Bartholomew, Esq., F.R.B.S., Flower-Painter in
    Ordinary to the Queen, of 23, Charlotte-street, Portland-place,
    as Professor of Fruit and Flower Painting.

    4. George Aitchison, Esq., Architect, A.I.C.E., Surveyor to
    the St. Katharine’s Dock Company, and to the Honourable the
    Commissioners of Sewers for the Precinct of St. Katharine, as
    Professor of Concreting and Opus Incertum.

    5. W. R. Billings, Esq., of Manor House, Kentish Town, as
    Itinerant Delineator.

    6. William Bartholomew, Esq., of Gray’s Inn, Vestry Clerk of
    St. John, Clerkenwell, as Honorary Solicitor.

    7. W. P Griffith, Esq., F.S.A., Architect, St. John’s-square,
    as Baptisterographer, or Delineator of Fonts and Baptisteries.

    8. Frederick Thatcher, Esq., A.R.I.B.A., Architect, of
    Furnival’s Inn, as Recorder, or Clerk of Proceedings.

    9. William Fisk, Esq., of Howland-street, as Professor of
    Historical Painting.

    10. C.H. Smith, Esq., of Clipstone-street, as Architectural
    Sculptor.

    11. Thomas Deighton, Esq., of Eaton-place, Belgrave-square,
    Architectural Modeller to her Majesty and Prince Albert, as
    Modeller of Buildings.

    12. W. G. Rogers, Esq., of Great Newport-street, as Gibbons
    Carver.

    13. J. G. Jackson, Esq., Architect, of Leamington Priors, as
    Correspondent Delineator for the County of Warwick.

    14. T. L. Walker, Esq., F.R.I.B.A., Architect, of Nuneaton,
    Warwick, as Correspondent Delineator for the County of Warwick.

    15. John Mallcott, Esq., of Newgate-street, as Professor of
    Masonry.

    16. Alfred Bartholomew, Esq., F.S.A., Architect, of Warwick
    House, Gray’s Inn, as Honorary Secretary.

    17. Josiah Houle, Esq., Architect, of Turnham-green, as Custos.

    18. Joseph Springbett, Esq., of Islington, Architect, as
    Cataloguist of Proceedings.

    19. James De-Carle Sowerby, Esq., F.L.S., F.R.B.S., Secretary
    of the Royal Botanical Society, Regent’s-park, as Professor of
    Botany.

    20. Thomas Moule, Esq., St. James’s Palace, as Honorary
    Architectural Biographer.

    21. Walter Chamberlaine, Esq., Worcester, as Maker of Encaustic
    Tile Pavements.

    22. H. P. Bone, Esq., of 12, Percy-street, Enamel Painter to
    Her Majesty, as Enamel Painter.

    23. Also, Miss F. Bessemer, of Pentonville, Embroidress to the
    Queen, as Embroidress.

The Honorary Fellowship was conferred upon the following gentlemen:—

    Sir F. Palgrave, Knt., F.R.S., and F.S.A., of the Rolls’-house,
    Chancery-lane.

    The Rev. R. Willis, M.A., F.R.S., Jacksonian Professor,
    Cambridge.

    The Rev. William Whewell, B.D., V.P.R.S., Master of Trinity
    College, Cambridge.

    Thomas Willement, Esq., F.S.A., of Green-street,
    Grosvenor-square.

    James Savage, Esq., F.S.A., Architect, of Essex-street, Strand.

    Messrs. Nichols, FF.S.A. of the Gentleman’s Magazine,
    Parliament-street.

    Owen Jones, Esq., Architect, of John-street, Adelphi.

    C. Berry, Esq., R.A., Architect, London.

    J. H. Good, Esq., F.R.I.B.A., Architect, Kensington Palace,
    Surveyor to her Majesty’s Commissioners for Building Churches,
    to the Incorporated Society for Building, &c., Churches, to the
    Pavilion at Brighton, and to Kensington Palace.

    Samuel Ware, Esq., F.S.A., Portland-place and Henden Hall.

    R. Abraham, Esq., F.S.A., of Keppel-street, Architect to the
    Herald’s College, &c.; with a request that he will take the
    honorary office of Mensurator.

    James Ingram, D.D., President of Trinity College, Oxford.

    The Secretaries of the Society of Antiquaries, of the Oxford
    Gothic Society, of the Church Commissioners, and of the
    Society for Building, &c. Churches.

    Each of the Church Commissioners.

    Each Bishop, Dean, Archdeacon, and Rural Dean, and each Master
    of the Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge.

    Each of the Kings-at-Arms.

_Elections, Second Chapter, Dec. 13, 1842._

    Augustus Abraham Winterbottom, Esq., Architect, Walham-green,
    Fulham, as Fellow and Auditor.

_Honorary Fellows._

    Rev. Hugh Hughes, B.D., Rector of the Knights Hospitallers’
    Ancient Priorial Church of St. John of Jerusalem, at
    Clerkenwell, to be one of the Chaplains to the College.

    Rev. Daniel Moore, B.A., of Maida Hill, to be also one of the
    Chaplains to the College.

    Rev. George Newneham Wright, M.A., of Hatton-garden, Editor of
    the Colonial Magazine.

    C. Irving, Esq., L.L.D., F.A.S., Editor of the Polytechnic
    Journal.

    W. H. Black, Esq., Impropriate Rector of Little Maplestead,
    Essex, and Assistant Keeper of the Public Records at the Rolls’
    House, Chancery-lane.

_Elections, Third Chapter, Jan. 10, 1843._

    Thomas Hudson Turner, Esq., of 6, Symond’s Inn, as Professor of
    Heraldry.

    Mr. E. Cresy, Jun., of 3, Trafalgar Square, as one of the
    Collectors and Designers of Monumental Brasses.

    John William Griffith, Esq., of St. John’s Square, Architect,
    Fellow and Auditor.

    James Collie, Esq., of Glasgow, Architect, Honorary Fellow, and
    also Correspondent Delineator for Scotland.

    Samuel Ware, Esq., of Portland Place and Hendon Hall, as
    Contributing Fellow.

    James Wilson, Esq., F.S.A., Architect, of 6, Alfred Place,
    Bath, as Fellow and Correspondent Delineator for the County of
    Somerset.

    Henry Ashton, Esq., Architect, of 50, Lower Brooke Street,
    Grosvenor Square, as Honorary Fellow.

    George Porter, Esq., Architect, of Fort Place, Bermondsey,
    District Surveyor of the Parish of Newington, and of North
    Lambeth, as Fellow and Auditor.

    William Conrade Lochner, Esq., F.I.B.A., Architect, of Albion
    Hall, London, Surveyor to the Royal Exchange Assurance Company,
    as Fellow and Auditor.

    David Sands, Esq., Architect, Walham Green, Fulham, as Fellow.

    Mr. J. W. Archer, of Clarendon Street, New Road, Monumental
    Brassier.

    William Bland, Esq., of Hartlip, near Sittingborne, Kent, as
    Honorary Fellow.

    George Pearce Pocock, Esq., of Norfolk Street, Strand,
    Solicitor, as Lay Fellow and Auditor.

    Alfred Fowler, Esq., of Datchet, as Lay Fellow.

    Rev. Frederick Pearce Pocock, B.A., of St. Peter’s College,
    Cambridge, as Honorary Fellow, and also one of the Chaplains.

    William Wallen, Esq., F.S.A., of 41, West Parade, Huddersfield,
    as Fellow and Correspondent Delineator for the County of York.

_At the Fourth Chapter, held Feb. 14th._

A beautiful illuminated Election Diploma was ordered to be adopted; and
the following elections were made—

    Rev. Geo. Pocock, Vicar of Hallsham, Honorary Fellow and
    Chaplain.

    W. P. Griffith, Esq., St. John’s Square, London, Contributing
    Fellow.

    J. J. Wood, Esq., Civil Engineer, New Palace Road, Lambeth,
    Fellow.

    C. L. Greaves, Esq., Fulham, Lay Fellow.

    T. Dodd, Esq., Curator to the Bodleian Library, Oxford, Lay
    Fellow.

    W. F. Harrison, Esq., Rochester, Lay Fellow.

    R. Call, Esq., of Tavistock Street, Bedford Square, Lay Fellow,
    and Professor of Architectural Acoustics.

    Mr. W. H. Rogers, of Great Newport Street, Illuminator.

We recommend architects, architectural students, and patrons of
architecture to join this institution, the advantages of which promise to
be great, and the costs small.




PUBLIC FOOTPATHS, &c.


The following letter is so generally applicable to the subject of the
management of the roads and footways in the environs of large towns, that
we insert it as much on that account as for the particular drift which
recommends it to the attention of our metropolitan readers:—

                 _To the Editor of the Morning Herald._

    “Sir,—The readiness with which you insert notices of public
    grievances, and the effect which these notices always have
    in drawing attention to them, induces me to state to you a
    serious inconvenience to which the inhabitants of Bayswater are
    subject, in the hope that it may through your pages attract the
    attention of the Metropolitan Road Commission.

    “It is simply this that the footpath of a considerable portion
    of the Bayswater-road, between the end of Oxford-street and
    the door into Kensington-gardens, is during wet weather,
    and especially after frost, in a worse state than any other
    footpath, as far as I know, in the neighbourhood of London;
    in fact, though in the immediate suburbs of the metropolis,
    it has, with its wide and deep open ditch, and rough hedge
    bank, all the characteristics of a footpath in a remote
    rural district. It requires only to be inspected, to produce
    conviction that it ought no longer to remain in its present
    disgraceful state. On the other side of the road, approaching
    the door into Kensington-gardens, there is another open
    ditch, which serves as a common sewer to the houses in its
    neighbourhood; and the fœtid exhalations from this ditch in
    the warm weather, and the filthy appearance of the water in it
    at all times, are disgraceful to the public authorities; more
    especially in these days, when so much attention is being paid
    to public drainage, and other sanitary measures.

    “The parish authorities have been repeatedly applied to,
    but their answer is, that it is the business of the Road
    Commissioners to attend to these footpaths and ditches.

    “As to the footpaths, they ought to be paved, or laid with
    asphalte; but if it be too expensive to pave the whole width
    of the footpath, a strip of two feet wide, along the middle,
    would be a great accommodation to females and aged persons,
    and to workmen going to and returning from their work in the
    morning and evenings. Some years ago you published a letter
    of mine, in which I endeavoured to point out the advantages
    that would result from paving a narrow strip along the middle
    of the footpaths, or two separate strips along such as were
    much frequented, on all the footpaths round London for several
    miles distant. Besides the obvious accommodation to females and
    infirm persons which this strip of pavement or asphalte would
    afford, it would enable mechanics going to their work to walk
    nearly as fast again as they do now, and consequently they
    might have their dwellings farther out in the country, where
    they would pay lower rents, and sleep in better air. Strips of
    Yorkshire pavement two feet wide might be laid down at 1s. 3d.
    per foot in length, or cheaper if the contract were made for
    laying down several miles of it.

    “As for the ditches on the Bayswater-road, they require only an
    18-inch barrel-drain, and filling up to the level of the path.

    “If I might farther trespass on your pages, I would direct
    public attention to the manner in which the trees and
    shrubs along footpaths are cut and mangled by the parochial
    road-surveyors in the suburbs of London. On the south side
    of roads lying in the direction of east and west, it may be
    advantageous to cut off all those branches which overhang the
    footpath, the better to admit the sun and wind to act on its
    surface; but surely the Act of Parliament which directs the
    lopping of trees overhanging roads, need not be so rigidly
    enforced in the case of streets running in the direction from
    north to south, along the whole surface of which the sun shines
    a portion of every day throughout the year when he appears;
    whereas on the south sides of east and west streets, during a
    portion of every day in the year, he does not shine at all.
    The street from which I date this letter consists of detached
    houses, each surrounded by a garden, the low trees and large
    shrubs in which slightly overhang the footpath, or rather, I
    should say, break and vary the line of the front palisades,
    and render the street one of the most picturesque in the
    immediate neighbourhood of town; but of late a new parochial
    road-surveyor acting, no doubt with the best intentions,
    according to the letter of the law, has given notice to all
    the occupants to cut off the overhanging branches, which
    having been done by the greater number of occupants, even to
    the cutting off of the projecting tufts of ivy, has produced
    a formal line of amputation which disfigures the street,
    without doing any good whatever. In the case of a north and
    south street, it is surely sufficient to cut off all branches
    that would impede a tall person carrying an umbrella, or which
    reach as far as the curb-stone, and might be in the way of
    the cart or carriage taking up or setting down. I understand
    that in such a case as this there is no appeal, except to the
    magistrates, who of course can only point to the law.

    “I hope this last subject may be considered as coming within
    the province of the Metropolitan Commission for Improvements
    lately formed, and if so, I hope they will consider this letter
    as an appeal to them.

    “It never can be the intention of the Legislature to disfigure
    any public road or street when doing so is attended with no
    public good whatever.

    “Apologizing for the length of this letter, and hoping you will
    be able to spare room for it,

               “I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,

                                                     “J. C. LOUDON.

    “No. 3, Porchester-terrace, Bayswater,
    “February 14th, 1843.”




COTTAGE WINDOWS.

_Extracted from the Supplement to London’s Cyclopædia of Architecture._


“Windows having been generally among the worst constructed parts of
Scotch cottages, the Highland Society offered a premium for the best
cottage window, which was awarded to Messrs. M’Culloch and Co. of
Glasgow, for the form shewn in figs. 2246. to 2248. This form, of the
dimensions shown in the figure, viz., three feet three inches by two
feet, without the wooden frame, costs, in cast iron, only 5s., and the
glass for such a window may be purchased at 2¾ d. per square. This kind
of window admits of being formed of any size, and is equally adapted for
workshops, farm buildings where glass windows are required, and cottages.

The dimensions that have been recommended for the windows of ordinary
cottages are, thirty-nine inches for the height, and twenty-four inches
for the width, within the wooden frames. The size of glass required
for these frames is seven and a quarter inches by five and a quarter
inches. The sash is divided into two unequal parts, the lower part
having three squares in height, and the upper part two. The lower part
is permanently fixed, while the upper part is constructed to turn in
the vertical direction on pivots, which are situate in the line of its
middle astragal; and both parts are set in a substantial wooden frame,
which may be either built in while the wall is erecting, or may be set
in afterwards in the ordinary way, with or without checked rabbets (§
911), according to the taste of the proprietor. The window, and its
arrangements, will be better understood by reference to the annexed
figures.

Fig. 2246. is an inside elevation, fig. 2248. a plan, and fig. 2247. a
vertical section, in each of which a portion of the wall is exhibited,
and the same letters refer to the corresponding parts in each figure;
_a_ is a portion of the surrounding wall; _b_, the wooden frame of the
window; _c_, the lower sash, which is dormant; and _d_, the upper and
moveable sash.

[Illustration: 2246]

[Illustration: 2248]

[Illustration: 2247]

In fig. 2247. the upper sash is represented as open for ventilation;
when shut, the parts of the opening-sash cover and overlap the fixed
parts in such a manner as to exclude wind and water; but when ventilation
is required, the arrangement of the parts which produce this is such as
to enable the housekeeper to admit air to any extent. For this purpose
the notched latch, _e_, is joined to a stud in the edge of the sash;
a simple iron pin or stud is also fixed in the wooden frame at _s_,
and the notches of the latch being made to fall upon this stud at any
required distance, the requisite degree of opening is secured, and when
the sash is again closed, the latch falls down parallel with, and close
to, the sash. To secure the sashes when shut, the T bolt, _f_, in the
middle of the meeting bars, has only to be turned one-fourth round,
and the moveable sash is held fast in close contact with the other.
The figures represent the window as finished up with single dressings,
viz., plain deal shutters, facings, and sole, which, at a small expense,
would give an air of neatness and comfort to the apartment, and promote
a corresponding taste in the other parts of the cottage. Though the
dimensions of the window here stated may be conceived sufficient for
lighting an apartment of ordinary size, they can nevertheless be varied
to suit every purpose. This may be done either by employing two such
windows as above described, with a mullion of wood or stone between them,
or the single window may be enlarged by one or two squares in width, or
in height, or in both directions.” (_Highland Soc. Trans._, vol. xiii. p.
541.)




SUPPLY OF WATER TO NEW YORK.

(_From the Scotsman of Nov. 12, 1842._)


The New York papers of 15th October are filled with long accounts of the
opening of a stupendous aqueduct of thirty-two miles, for conveying water
to that city from the Croton River. The celebration of this event took
place on Friday, the 14th, under the direction of the Common Council,
and consisted of the largest procession of military companies and civic
associations that ever took place in New York. It was between six and
seven miles in length.

We omit the account which describes the time and order of the procession,
the personages and bodies composing it, the forms and ceremonies gone
through, the feastings, illuminations, and rejoicings, and proceed with
that part of the account which is more directly to our purpose.

It appears that from 1829 up to the present time, New York was supplied
with water from a tank or reservoir erected in Thirteenth street, and
filled first by means of horse and afterwards by steam power. The present
work was commenced in 1835, after being approved of by the people by a
vote of 17,330 affirmatives to 3,960 negatives. It consists of:—

First, an artificial reservoir, called the Croton River Lake, 45 miles
from the Battery—the extreme part of the city; this lake is formed by
a hydraulic stone-masonry dam, with two waste weirs or aprons, for the
over fall of the water, one of 87 feet and one of 180 feet, these being
separated by a gate-house. The height of these waste weirs is 55 feet
above the bed of the river, and 40 feet above the low water level.

The dam backs the water 5 miles, and makes a lake of an area of 400
acres, and a capacity equal to 500 millions of gallons.

The water enters a gate-house, where the quantity is regulated, before it
enters the aqueduct, which is a stone structure, lined and arched with
brick.

The face of the interior of the aqueduct is at the bottom an inverted
arch, width 6 ft. 9 in., height 8 feet 5½ inches, area 53⅓ square feet,
about large enough for an omnibus and four to pass through. The line of
the aqueduct being on a regular declivity of 13¼ inches to the mile down
to the Harlem River, a distance of 33 miles, it has a line of tunnels of
6841 feet, being sixteen in number, sometimes through earth and sometimes
through solid rock; the deepest cut is 80 feet, and the least 25 feet. In
Westchester only, the aqueduct crosses 25 streams of water, which are
from 25 to 13 feet below the top of the aqueduct.

The grade line of aqueduct across the Harlem is 25 feet above tide water,
and the top of the water now passes over Harlem river in one pipe of 36
inches, placed on the earthen dam made in the construction of the high
bridge.

The bridge itself is now about one-third completed, and will be when
finished one of the most stupendous works of the kind in the world. Its
cost is estimated at one million of dollars, and its elevation is so
great as not to impede the navigation of the stream. Some idea of this
vast undertaking may be formed from the fact, that the excavation for one
pier has been carried 34 feet below the surface of the water, and then a
rock foundation not having been reached, 240 poles, from 30 to 40 feet
long, were driven in for the purpose. Several piers having been already
carried, by the aid of coffer-dams, from four to fifteen feet above
high-water mark.

The river is 620 feet wide at water line, but the slope of the river
banks adds an additional distance of 830 feet, making in all 1,480 feet.

The plan now in progress crosses the river with eight arches of 80 feet
span, and on piers of 31 by 44 feet at the base, resting on the bed of
the river, and 7 arches on piers on the land from the edge of the water
up the two banks of the river.

The spring of one of the arches is 95 feet above the lowest foundation
put down; the top of the parapet will be 149 feet from the lowest
foundation. It is intended that the water shall pass over this bridge in
pipes, to have it secure against the possibility of danger.

The interesting works at Clendinning Valley, being a bridge over a valley
of 1,900 feet in breadth, the greatest height of the aqueduct is 50 feet
from the bottom of the valley; beautiful archways are constructed for
three streets, 34 feet for the carriage-way, and 10 on each side for
side-walks.

Next in interest is the reservoir at Eighty-sixth Street, which might
well be called the detaining or clarifying reservoir. It has two
divisions, together thirty-two acres—greatest depth of water twenty-five
feet, containing one hundred and fifty millions of gallons. Two lines of
thirty-six inch pipes connect this with the reservoir at Fortieth-street,
which has also two divisions, forming together an area of four
acres—depth of water when filled thirty-six feet. From this point four
and a-half miles to the Battery. Whole length of line from the Battery to
the artificial lake, fifty miles. There are in this great work 55,000,000
of bricks and 700,000 cubic yards of stone-masonry.

The water in the aqueduct is regulated at the entrance gate, so as not to
flow under any pressure—it has not been permitted to flow in the division
near the city at a greater depth than two feet, but the works at the
Croton dam required a few days back that more water should pass through
the first division (the distance between Sing Sing and the Croton river),
being eight miles, and it was found to pass seventy-five millions New
York gallons in twenty-four hours, and that its velocity was over two
miles per hour.

The Croton Lake now retains, beyond the daily river supply, in reserve,
five hundred millions of gallons; and a small expense would add other
immense artificial lakes to hold back an additional supply; but the
necessity of this is hardly conceivable. It is estimated that the London
supply, from all their companies, is but twenty-four millions of gallons,
and Paris four millions only.

On the 8th of June last the superintendents went through the aqueduct
(32 miles in length) on foot, and the whole being found complete, on the
22nd the water was admitted to the depth of eighteen inches. “The Croton
Maid,” a small boat prepared for the purpose, and holding four persons,
was then placed in the aqueduct, and navigated its entire length by some
of the same party. This novel voyage was made sometimes at the depth
of 75 feet below and then again 80 feet above the natural surface of
the earth, at the rate of a mile in forty minutes, the velocity of the
current. When four feet deep, this will probably reach two miles per hour.

On the 27th, the water was admitted into the immense receiving reservoir,
in the presence of a large assemblage, including the mayor, governor,
military, firemen, &c. &c. A salute of thirty-eight guns was fired,
and the Croton Maid, soon making her appearance, was hailed with great
enthusiasm, as the evidence that a navigable stream was now flowing into
the city. The boat was then formally presented to the Fire Department,
and she now lies safely moored in the distributing reservoir. To this
basin the stream was admitted on the 4th day of July, amidst general and
imposing demonstrations of public joy, the Temperance Societies taking a
prominent part.

Since then, the water has continued to flow about two feet deep through
the aqueduct, delivering into the receiving reservoir twelve millions of
imperial gallons per day, and, as yet, only five or six millions in the
pipes; nor has any defect been found in any section of the work.

Over twelve millions of dollars is the estimated cost of the entire work
when done. From ten to twelve dollars is the rate charged per annum to
families for the use of the water; its own force carries the stream into
the highest stories of the most elevated buildings.

“An eminent clergyman (says the _New York Commercial Advertiser_), who
has recently travelled in Europe and Asia, pronounces the Croton aqueduct
the greatest work of our age, and says he has seen nothing to compare
with it in all his travels. Its conception and design are worthy to form
an era in history, from the utility, vastness, and simplicity of the
undertaking. For centuries to come, it will stand a noble monument of the
enterprise, art, and science of the present generation. No population of
300,000 ever before executed such a plan—not undertaken to mark a field
of battle—nor like the vast walls of China, Rome, or of modern Paris,
in preparation for defence in war. On the contrary, the Croton aqueduct
regards the health, temperance, and happiness of myriads of the present
generation, and of ages to come. None without seeing it can form an idea
of its magnitude and importance.”




Literature.


_Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit._ Edited by “Boz.” London: Chapman and
Hall.

Although it is a part of our plan, in the conduct of this Journal, to
give it that varied character which shall constitute it the universal
medium of instruction, information, and amusement for the class to
which it is addressed, and therefore it needs no apology from us for
introducing to our pages extracts from the writings of popular authors,
such as those of the inimitable Dickens, yet we are impelled by a
two-fold consideration to select from that source in this particular
instance. That vein of withering satire in which the author has hitherto
indulged in drawing out the character of Squeers, the Yorkshire
school-master, is now, it seems, to flow afresh, in the delineation of
Mr. Pecksniff, a Wiltshire architect. The broad dash of caricature with
which he invests the portrait, is a peculiarity of the author that has
no harm in it, since it is directed against a vicious practice, which
deserves the strongest reprobation, and of which, as well as of the
character of Pecksniff generally, it may be expected that our readers
in particular will take an anxious cognizance. The very circumstance
of the introduction of this worthy and his simple-minded pupil Pinch
into the novel of Martin Chuzzlewit (for novel we suppose we must call
it), will make us, and thousands of our class his readers, and eager
expectants of the monthly issue which is to develope the workings of the
miserable genius of Master Pecksniff. With this preface, we proceed with
our purpose of drawing attention to the strong lights and shadows of the
picture which arrests the eye of the architectural observer.


THE PARTING OF MR. PECKSNIFF AND HIS PUPIL.

“Come, Mr. Pecksniff,” he said with a smile, “don’t let there be any
ill-blood between us, pray. I am sorry we have ever differed, and
extremely sorry I have ever given you offence. Bear me no ill-will at
parting, sir.”

“I bear,” answered Mr. Pecksniff, mildly, “no ill-will to any man on
earth.”

“I told you he didn’t,” said Pinch in an under-tone; “I knew he didn’t!
He always says he don’t.”

“Then you will shake hands, sir?” cried Westlock, advancing a step or
two, and bespeaking Mr. Pinch’s close attention by a glance.

“Umph!” said Mr. Pecksniff, in his most winning tone.

“You will shake hands, sir?”

“No, John,” said Mr. Pecksniff, with a calmness quite ethereal; “no, I
will not shake hands, John. I have forgiven you. I had already forgiven
you, even before you ceased to reproach and taunt me. I have embraced you
in the spirit, John, which is better than shaking hands.”

“Pinch,” said the youth, turning towards him, with a hearty disgust of
his late master, “what did I tell you?”

Poor Pinch looked down uneasily at Mr. Pecksniff, whose eye was fixed
upon him as it had been from the first: and looking up at the ceiling
again, made no reply.

“As to your forgiveness, Mr. Pecksniff,” said the youth, “I’ll not have
it upon such terms. I won’t be forgiven.”

“Won’t you, John?” retorted Mr. Pecksniff with a smile. “You must. You
can’t help it. Forgiveness is a high quality; an exalted virtue far above
_your_ control or influence, John. I _will_ forgive you. You cannot move
me to remember any wrong you have ever done me, John.”

“Wrong!” said the other, with all the heat and impetuosity of his age.
“Here’s a pretty fellow! Wrong! Wrong I have done him! He’ll not even
remember the five hundred pounds he had with me under false pretences;
or the seventy pounds a-year for board and lodgings that would have been
dear at seventeen! Here’s a martyr!”

“Money, John,” said Mr. Pecksniff, “is the root of all evil. I grieve to
see that it is already bearing evil fruit in you. But I will not remember
its existence. I will not even remember the conduct of that misguided
person”—and here, although he spoke like one at peace with all the world,
he used an emphasis that plainly said ‘I have my eye upon the rascal
now’—“that misguided person who has brought you here to-night, seeking to
disturb (it is a happiness to say in vain) the heart’s repose and peace
of one who would have shed his dearest blood to serve him.”

The voice of Mr. Pecksniff trembled as he spoke, and sobs were heard from
his daughters. Sounds floated on the air, moreover, as if two spirit
voices had exclaimed: one, “Beast!” the other, “Savage!”

“Forgiveness,” said Mr. Pecksniff, “entire and pure forgiveness is not
incompatible with a wounded heart; perchance when the heart is wounded,
it becomes a greater virtue. With my breast still wrung and grieved to
its inmost core by the ingratitude of that person, I am proud and glad to
say, that I forgive him. Nay! I beg,” cried Mr. Pecksniff, raising his
voice as Pinch appeared about to speak, “I beg that individual not to
offer a remark; he will truly oblige me by not uttering one word: just
now. I am not sure that I am equal to the trial. In a very short space of
time I shall have sufficient fortitude, I trust, to converse with him as
if these events had never happened. But not,” said Mr. Pecksniff, turning
round again towards the fire, and waving his hand in the direction of the
door, “not now.”

“Bah!” cried John Westlock, with the utmost disgust and disdain the
monosyllable is capable of expressing. “Ladies, good evening. Come,
Pinch, it’s not worth thinking of. I was right and you were wrong. That’s
a small matter; you’ll be wiser another time.”

So saying, he clapped that dejected companion on the shoulder, turned
upon his heel, and walked out into the passage, whither poor Mr. Pinch,
after lingering irresolutely in the parlour for a few seconds, expressing
in his countenance the deepest mental misery and gloom, followed him.
They then took up the box between them, and sallied out to meet the mail.

That fleet conveyance passed, every night, the corner of a lane at some
distance; towards which point they bent their steps. For some minutes
they walked along in silence, until at length young Westlock burst into a
loud laugh, and at intervals into another and another. Still there was no
response from his companion.

“I’ll tell you what Pinch!” he said abruptly, after another lengthened
silence—“You haven’t half enough of the devil in you. Half enough! You
haven’t any.”

“Well!” said Pinch with a sigh, “I don’t know, I’m sure. It’s a
compliment to say so. If I haven’t, I suppose I’m all the better for it.”

“All the better!” repeated his companion tartly: “All the worse, you mean
to say.”

“And yet,” said Pinch, pursuing his own thoughts and not the last remark
on the part of his friend, “I must have a good deal of what you call
the devil in me, too, or how could I make Pecksniff so uncomfortable? I
wouldn’t have occasioned him so much distress—don’t laugh, please—for a
mine of money: and Heaven knows I could find good use for it, too, John.
How grieved he was!”

“_He_ grieved!” returned the other.

“Why didn’t you observe that the tears were almost starting out of his
eyes!” cried Pinch. “Bless my soul, John, is it nothing to see a man
moved to that extent and know one’s self to be the cause! And did you
hear him say that he could have shed his blood for me?”

“Do you _want_ any blood shed for you?” returned his friend, with
considerable irritation. “Does he shed any thing for you that you _do_
want? Does he shed employment for you, instruction for you, pocket-money
for you? Does he shed even legs of mutton for you in a decent proportion
to potatoes and garden stuff?”

“I am afraid,” said Pinch, sighing again, “that I’m a great eater: I
can’t disguise from myself that I’m a great eater. Now you know that,
John.”

“_You_ a great eater!” retorted his companion, with no less indignation
than before. “How do you know you are?”

There appeared to be forcible matter in this inquiry, for Mr. Pinch only
repeated in an under-tone that he had a strong misgiving on the subject,
and that he greatly feared he was.

“Besides, whether I am or no,” he added “that has little or nothing to
do with his thinking me ungrateful. John, there is scarcely a sin in
the world that is in my eyes such a crying one as ingratitude; and when
he taxes me with that, and believes me to be guilty of it, he makes me
miserable and wretched.”

“Do you think he don’t know that?” returned the other scornfully. “But
come, Pinch, before I say any more to you, just run over the reasons you
have for being grateful to him at all, will you? change hands first, for
the box is heavy. That’ll do. Now, go on.”

“In the first place,” said Pinch, “he took me as his pupil for much less
than he asked.”

“Well,” rejoined his friend, perfectly unmoved by this instance of
generosity. “What in the second place?”

“What in the second place!” cried Pinch, in a sort of desperation, “why,
every thing in the second place. My poor old grandmother died happy to
think she had put me with such an excellent man. I have grown up in his
house, I am in his confidence, I am his assistant, he allows me a salary:
when his business improves, my prospects are to improve too. All this,
and a great deal more, is in the second place. And in the very prologue
and preface to the first place, John, you must consider this, which
nobody knows better than I: that I was born for much plainer and poorer
things, that I am not a good hand at his kind of business, and have no
talent for it, or indeed for any thing else but odds and ends that are of
no use or service to anybody.”

He said this with so much earnestness, and in a tone so full of feeling,
that his companion instinctively changed his manner as he sat down on
the box (they had by this time reached the finger-post at the end of the
lane); motioned him to sit down beside him; and laid his hand upon his
shoulder.

“I believe you are one of the best fellows in the world,” he said, “Tom
Pinch.”

“Not at all,” rejoined Tom. “If you only knew Pecksniff as well as I do,
you might say it of him, indeed, and say it truly.”

“I’ll say any thing of him you like,” returned the other, “and not
another word to his disparagement.”

“It’s for my sake then; not his, I am afraid,” said Pinch, shaking his
head gravely.

“For whose you please, Tom, so that it does please you. Oh! He’s a famous
fellow! _He_ never scraped and clawed into his pouch all your poor
grandmother’s hard savings—she was a housekeeper, wasn’t she, Tom?”

“Yes,” said Mr. Pinch, nursing one of his large knees, and nodding his
head: “a gentleman’s housekeeper.”

“_He_ never scraped and clawed into his pouch all her hard savings;
dazzling her with prospects of your happiness and advancement, which he
knew (and no man better) never would be realized! _He_ never speculated
and traded on her pride in you, and her having educated you, and on her
desire that you at least should live to be a gentleman. Not he, Tom!”

“No,” said Tom, looking into his friend’s face, as if he were a little
doubtful of his meaning; “of course not.”

“So say I,” returned the youth, “of course he never did. _He_ didn’t
take less than he had asked, because that less was all she had, and more
than he expected: not he, Tom! he doesn’t keep you as his assistant
because you are of any use to him; because your wonderful faith in his
pretensions is of inestimable service in all his mean disputes; because
your honesty reflects honesty on him; because your wandering about this
little place all your spare hours, reading in ancient books and foreign
tongues, gets noised abroad, even as far as Salisbury, making of him,
Pecksniff, the master, a man of learning and of vast importance. _He_
gets no credit from you, Tom, not he.”

“Why, of course he don’t,” said Pinch, gazing at his friend with a more
troubled aspect than before. “Pecksniff get credit from _me_! Well!”

“Don’t I say that it’s ridiculous,” rejoined the other, “even to think of
such a thing?”

“Why, its madness,” said Tom.

“Madness!” returned young Westlock. “Certainly, it’s madness. Who but
a madman would suppose he cares to hear it said on Sundays, that the
volunteer who plays the organ in the church, and practises on summer
evenings in the dark, is Mr. Pecksniff’s young man, eh, Tom? Who but a
madman would suppose that it is the game of such a man as he, to have
his name in everybody’s mouth, connected with the thousand useless odds
and ends you do (and which, of course, he taught you), eh, Tom? Who but
a madman would suppose you advertise him hereabouts, much cheaper and
much better than a chalker on the walls could, eh, Tom? As well might one
suppose that he doesn’t on all occasions pour out his whole heart and
soul to you; that he doesn’t make you a very liberal and indeed rather
extravagant allowance; or, to be more wild and monstrous still, if that
be possible, as well might one suppose,” and here, at every word, he
struck him lightly on the breast, “that Pecksniff traded in your nature,
and that your nature was, to be timid and distrustful of yourself, and
trustful of all other men, but most of all of him who least deserves it.
There would be madness, Tom!”

Mr. Pinch had listened to all this with looks of bewilderment, which
seemed to be in part occasioned by the matter of his companion’s speech,
and in part by his rapid and vehement manner. Now that he had come to
a close, he drew a very long breath: and gazing wistfully in his face
as if he were unable to settle in his own mind what expression it wore,
and were desirous to draw from it as good a clue to his real meaning as
it was possible to obtain in the dark, was about to answer, when the
sound of the mail-guard’s horn came cheerily upon their ears, putting an
immediate end to the conference: greatly as it seemed to the satisfaction
of the younger man, who jumped up briskly, and gave his hand to his
companion.

“Both hands, Tom. I shall write to you from London, mind!”

“Yes,” said Pinch. “Yes. Do, please. Good bye. Good bye. I can hardly
believe you’re going. It seems now but yesterday that you came. Good bye!
my dear old fellow!”

John Westlock returned his parting words with no less heartiness of
manner, and sprung up to his seat upon the roof. Off went the mail at
a canter down the dark road: the lamps gleaming brightly, and the horn
awakening all the echoes, far and wide.

“Go your ways,” said Pinch, apostrophizing the coach; “I can hardly
persuade myself but you’re alive, and are some great monster who visits
this place at certain intervals, to bear my friends away into the world.
You’re more exulting and rampant than usual to-night, I think: and you
may well crow over your prize; for he is a fine lad, an ingenuous lad,
and has but one fault that I know of: he don’t mean it, but he is most
cruelly unjust to Pecksniff!”




PROFESSOR COCKERELL’S LECTURES ON ARCHITECTURE AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY.


This gentleman, who succeeded the late lamented Mr. Wilkins in the
professor’s chair of the Royal Academy, is labouring with all the
generous energy for which he is distinguished, to lay the products
of a well-stored mind before the students, so as to excite them to
an emulation of the works and achievements of the great masters in
Architecture who have gone before. We have had the pleasure of attending
the course of lectures of this session, and were greatly rejoiced to
find, from the numbers and character of the auditory, that the study of
the art is being regarded with interest by many out of the pale of the
profession. It would have been a grateful duty to us to have given a full
report of these lectures for the benefit of our readers, but we felt
to be precluded from doing so, by a previous announcement on the part
of the _Athenæum_ of the intention to do so, and which has since been
very effectively carried out. In justice to that excellent periodical,
we can, therefore, only refer to its pages those of our readers who may
be anxious to give that attentive perusal of the lectures which they
require and deserve, contenting ourselves with the liberty of making such
extracts as we think will suit the purpose of our less ambitious readers,
or to whet the appetite of the others.

There is one thing, however, in which even the comprehensive report of
the _Athenæum_ is necessarily defective. Such a display of illustrative
drawings, so laboriously compiled, as were exhibited by the learned
lecturer, it has never before been our good fortune to see brought
together; and without these, or some more adequate representation of
them than mere description, the spirit or essence of the lecture is
greatly weakened, and in some instances lost. Two large sheets, or rather
assemblage of sheets, were hung up, shewing in comparative juxta-position
most of the famous structures of antiquity, the one in elevation, the
other in section, and over these the eye could wander and the mind
could dwell with marvellings and delight that no words can express.
How small appear those finished and exquisite gems of Grecian art, its
temples, when compared with the developed boldness of the works of the
successors to the Greek school, who have been charged with innovations
and corruptions. These great sheets present to us a map or chart reduced,
as it were, to a small scale, of the hitherto ascertained geography of
building art, and suggest an endless train of reflection and inquiry.

But there were others whose assemblage and lengthened treatment would
make up volumes, some embodying the ingenious speculations of the
professor, but, in the main, rigid and critical delineations of the
buildings of the ancients from measurement and other laborious means of
research.

These, however, it would be quite in vain for us to attempt to enumerate,
or to refer to in any more lengthened way of notice; we therefore proceed
to our extracts.

After quoting the regulations of the Royal Academy in reference to the
delivery of these lectures, and pointing out how much it is desirable
to add to their provisions in this respect, on the model of the French
Academy, the effects of which are visible in the advantages which the
architects of that country enjoy; and contrasting the pains taken by the
governments of the Continent in the encouragement and cultivation of art,
with the niggard policy pursued in this country, he says—

    “It is now more than a hundred years that Thomson, the
    best informed upon the Arts of all our poets, indignantly
    remonstrated on our national inferiority and neglect of this
    branch of intellectual culture, and complained with grief, in
    his Ode to Liberty,—

        ‘That finer arts (save what the Muse has sung,
        In daring flight above all modern wing),
        Neglected droop their head.’

    “Foreigners have attributed this disregard of the rulers of
    an ingenious and a great people to various causes—to physical
    insensibility, to the sordid nature of our commercial habits,
    or the adverse propensity of the Protestant religion,—to which
    objections the history of the ancient dynasties of this country
    (never inferior in the fine arts), the abundant enthusiasm of
    individual artists of our own times, and the public sympathy,
    are direct contradictions. Finally, they have fixed the
    reproach on the government, by pointing at the Schools of
    Design established by parliament; for they say, truly, that so
    soon as the inferiority of our design in manufactures drove us
    from the foreign markets, we took the alarm, and immediately
    formed schools of design, _à l’instar_ of those on the
    continent; not from a generous love of art, but, confessedly,
    from the well-grounded fear of loss in trade. The members of
    this academy hailed the measure with joy, as the harbinger of
    a better sense of what is due to our intellectual position
    in Europe, and they have willingly given their gratuitous
    attention to its conduct. But the instruction of youth must be
    accompanied with the higher prospect of employment and honour
    in national works; and we are happy in the reflection that the
    decoration of the parliamentary palace at Westminster, and
    the interest taken by an illustrious personage in that great
    object, hold out to us the hopes of equality at least in these
    noble studies with the improving countries of the continent,
    and the opening of a new career for genius and industry.”...

    “Academies were established as depositories of learning and
    practice in the fine arts, and the means of their preservation
    and transmission through the vicissitudes of the times. The
    enlightened and commercial Colbert had seen how in Greece and
    ancient Rome, and in modern Rome, under his own countryman,
    the Constable Bourbon, a public calamity might disperse and
    ruin them for half a century, without some fixed and corporate
    body and abode. He never dreamt that, in the absence of the
    fostering patronage and employment of government, the Academy
    could do more than fulfil these negative objects. The Royal
    Academy had done much more than this—it had sustained the
    credit of the country in fine art, and had reared talents which
    were now part and parcel of English history. Through good and
    evil report it had nourished the flame; and it was consolatory
    to find that they had transmitted it to better times, through
    long and adverse circumstances; for now they had the happiness
    to see two Professors in the Universities of London, the
    British Institute of Architects, large public patronage in
    Art-Unions, &c., and a growing interest in the Universities of
    Oxford and Cambridge towards fine art generally.”

The professor next contended for the necessity of an intimate and active
union of architecture with the sister arts of painting and sculpture,
shewing how in Egypt, where these were less regarded than subsequently
in Greece, a deficiency existed in the justness of proportions, and a
seeming neglect of order and regularity.

Of his first course of two years back, he remarked, that as the history
of art was the only safe foundation of study, so he had chosen that as
the commencement of the discharge of his duties as a lecturer. “The
second course (that of last year) had treated chiefly the literature of
art.” Books and the authorities that lived in them, such as Vitruvius,
the old Italian and French authors, and, above all, the admirable
Alberto, were not to be discredited, as is too much the fashion
now-a-days.

“As well,” said he, “might the lawyer or the divine dispense with books,
as the architect. In the very dawn of literature the architect required
to be learned. In the Memorabilia of Xenophon, Socrates inquires, ‘But
what employment do you intend to excel in, O Euthedemus, that you collect
so many books? is it architecture? for this art, too, you will find no
little knowledge necessary.’

“A familiar example of the great utility of these researches had been
given in the quotation from Philibert de l’Orme (lib. ii. c. xi.), of the
specification for concrete, written in the latter part of the sixteenth
century, and corresponding precisely with the recent so-called discovery
of this method of securing foundations. During the last century our
architects had discontinued the ancient practice, having adopted the most
fallacious fashion of wood-sleepers, to the ruin of many fine buildings.
It was, then, the ignorance of this invaluable and most instructive
and amusing author, Philibert de l’Orme, which had led to so fatal an
error....

“In the present course the Professor purposed the consideration of
the more difficult, but no less important, injunction of the Academic
regulations, ‘that these lectures should be calculated to form the
taste of the students, to instruct them in the laws and principles of
composition, and fit them for a critical examination of structures.’”

(TO BE CONTINUED.)




A PROBLEM.


We have been much pleased with a little geometrical puzzle, which has
lately come under our notice, and, thinking that it may afford equal
amusement (perhaps not unprofitable) to our readers, we have thought
it worth while inserting it in our pages. The puzzle or problem, as we
may term it, was thus proposed to us, and we give it to the public in
the same words. A lady was desirous of covering a _square_ room with a
carpet, and wishing to employ an irregular piece (vide cut) which she had
in her possession, and which was _equal in superficial extent of surface_
to her room, was greatly at a loss how to fit it exactly. She mentioned
her difficulty to a friend, who immediately put an end to her trouble by
cutting the carpet with _only two straight_ cuts in such a manner that
all the pieces when united formed a perfect square, exactly covering the
room.—Query, how was it cut?

[Illustration]




Miscellanea.


CONGRESS OF ARCHITECTS.—The first Congress of Architects held its meeting
at Leipsic, on the 14th November, 1842. There were 547 architects
present. Next year the Congress is to be held at Bomberg, in Bavaria,
when it is expected that a considerable number of English architects will
attend.

MONUMENT TO BURNS’ HIGHLAND MARY.—This monument has now been completed
over the grave of Highland Mary, in the West churchyard, Greenock. The
erection is more of the Roman than the Grecian style of architecture,
is pyramidical in form, and may be said to be divided into three
compartments, the cornice-stones between which are beautifully and
elaborately carved. The first, or lower compartment, contains the
inscription tablet. The second bears a bas-relief of Burns and Mary
Campbell, representing their parting scene, when they plighted troth and
exchanged Bibles across “the stream around the Castle o’ Montgomery.” The
artist has been peculiarly happy in depicting the position of the loving
pair at this hallowed parting; and few who have seen a correct likeness
of the bard can fail to recognize it upon the beautiful Ayrshire stone
which has been used, although it has been necessary, to be in keeping
with the truth, to impart to the features a more juvenile cast than those
in which Robert Burns is usually represented. The third compartment
contains a female figure, emblematical of Grief, bending over an urn,
which her arms encircle, and upon which is carved the word “Mary.” Above
her head, and almost at the apex of the pyramid, a star, with rays is
cut, in remembrance of the beautiful invocation in “Mary in Heaven.” The
inscription on the monument is simply couched as follows:—“Sacred to
Genius and Love—to Burns and Highland Mary.” The monument stands about
seventeen feet high, was erected at the cost of 1,000_l._, and is by far
the most imposing object in this old churchyard.

DUKE OF ORLEANS.—A fine marble bust of this illustrious prince has been
placed in the “Salle de Conferences,” at the Chamber of Deputies. Its
merits as a work of art are of a very lofty order, and it resemblance to
the deceased is remarkably striking.

THE CITY ARTICLE.—In consequence of the late rain, umbrellas rose, and
pattens were in demand. Consols were done at 90; and so was our reporter
at the White Horse Cellar, by a Jew, who sold pencils. We don’t know much
about India stocks, but we have been induced to invest a little capital
in India handkerchiefs. We lately had an interview with a broker about
a week’s rent in arrear, and found him a regular “Bear.” Tartans look
lively, and broad cloth is flat, so is small beer. Feathers are buoyant,
and tallow is low, especially at evening parties. We offered to make a
purchase of sugar, but, tin being scarce, our offer was declined. This
changeable weather, and the pressure of leather, affects our corn to some
extent. The only time-bargain we have lately made was with a cabman, and
he had the best of it.—_Punch._

CRUEL ASPERSION.—Rivarol, speaking of Mirabeau, said—“That man would do
any thing for money—even a good action.”




ARCHITECTURAL COMPETITION.


Under this head we shall give notices of pending competitions, and shall
feel obliged by our friends forwarding us the accounts of what may fall
in their way of this character. We shall also be happy to give engravings
of the selected designs; and think that, by such publicity, the present
very defective system of decision may be amended. Publicity is sometimes
a remedy when more direct measures have failed.

KINGSTON UNION.—DESIGNS FOR AN INFIRMARY.—To be sent in by the 6th of
March.

NEW CHURCH, TORQUAY.—11th March.

ALMSHOUSES, SPALDING.—6th March.

ALMSHOUSES, RINGWOOD.—1st March.

COUNTY ASYLUM, OXFORD.—10th March.


NOTICES OF CONTRACTS.

The following contracts are advertised in different papers, and we have
kept a register of the particulars of each at the office, which may be
referred to on application. In the continuation of this plan, which we
flatter ourselves will be of service to our readers, material assistance
will be rendered by the forwarding of papers from our country friends,
or by any other means of notification, of which they may choose to avail
themselves.

NEW CHURCH AT HILDENBOROUGH, NEAR TUNBRIDGE, KENT.—Tenders to be sent on
the 2nd of March. Mr. Ewan Christian, 44, Bloomsbury Square, Architect.

RAILWAY STATION BUILDINGS, AND OTHER MASONRY, &C., HUNT’S BANK,
MANCHESTER.—Plans open from the 13th of February; tenders to be sent in
on the 6th of March. Mr. Gooch, Oldham Road, Manchester.

Also, FORMATION AND COMPLETION OF THE BRANCH RAILWAY TO HALIFAX, 1 mile
and 55 chains.—The same time and parties.

WEST LONDON RAILWAY.—Contractors to attend at 35, Great George Street,
Westminster, at 11 o’clock of the 20th inst. Tenders to be sent in on the
3rd of March.

IRON BRIDGE, GREAT YARMOUTH.—Engineers, Messrs. Birch, 3, Cannon Row,
Westminster, 20th February to the 11th of March.

PUMPS AND WELLS, METROPOLIS ROADS.—Tenders to be sent in on the 22nd inst.

GREENWICH UNION, ADDITIONS.—Mr. R. P. Brown, Architect, Greenwich; time
for receiving tenders, Feb. 23.

       *       *       *       *       *

IRON DWELLING HOUSE.—A large iron mansion has been built by Mr. W.
Laycock, of Old Hall-street, in this town, the inventor of a new
principle in the application of iron to building purposes. The fabric,
which has been made in separate plates, is now erecting for the purpose
of public exhibition previous to its transmission to Africa, where it
will be used as a palace by one of the native kings. This singular
building has three floors exclusive of an attic. The basement story is
7 feet high; the second, 10 feet; and the third, in which is the grand
suite of state apartments, is 12 feet high. In these his sable majesty
will give his state audiences. The principal reception room, the presence
chamber, is 50 feet by 30, and ornamented throughout in a style of
most gorgeous magnificence. To counteract any annoyance from heat, the
inventor has contrived the means of admitting a current of air, which can
be regulated at pleasure, to pass through an aperture left between the
outer plate and inner panel.—_Liverpool Albion._

The late appointment of Mr. Donaldson, as Professor of Architecture
to the London University, Mr. Hosking being previously inducted to
the similar appointment of King’s College, are significant signs of
the times as to the growing importance of architectural practice. Mr.
Vignoles is Professor of Engineering at the former institution, Mr.
Dyce is the appointed professor at King’s College of the Arts of Design
and Architectural Enrichment, and is also Superintendent of the very
important School of Design, founded by Government at Somerset House. It
will be our business, as we proceed, to make our readers acquainted with
the facilities and advantages offered by these and other institutions and
appointments.

       *       *       *       *       *

_The terms of subscription to THE BUILDER are as follows_:

UNSTAMPED EDITION.

    _Quarterly_         3_s._  3_d._
    _Half yearly_       6      6
    _Yearly_           13      0

STAMPED EDITION.

    _Quarterly_         4      4
    _Half yearly_       8      8
    _Yearly_           17      4

_Monthly Parts, stitched in a wrapper, will be ready for delivery at the
end of each month, price 1s._

_Advertisements for THE BUILDER must be forwarded to the Office before
Wednesday in each week._




NOTICES.


TO OUR READERS.

_As it is our anxious wish to do all we can to serve our class, we have
resolved to keep a registry of advertisements and notices to which an
after reference may have to be made, in particular as to workmen wanted,
and workmen wanting employment, by which means much good may be done
beyond the mere period of advertising: as, for instance, in the case of
any workman wanting employment, by calling at or writing to the office
of THE BUILDER, he will have a good chance of ascertaining what may be
open to him. On the other hand, masters and general employers may procure
references to workmen, in cases of sudden emergency: both parties,
therefore, will see it desirable to communicate information as it may
arise. It is in this way that they will make us of that real use to
them which it is one great object of our life and labours to be. Also,
in the matter of the inquiries of our country friends respecting any
goods or articles advertised, we shall be happy to act as their agents,
or in procuring things suited to their respective departments from the
various London Houses. Of our London friends, therefore, we request such
information as their circulars or other advertisements supply. Specimens
of articles of a moderate size, if deposited at THE BUILDER Office, will
be readily referred to, and shewn to the friends and purchasers who may
call._

_We have had a number of hand-bills printed by way of an advertisement of
the character and objects of this Magazine. Our friends, and particularly
the Workmen, can render us great service in the distribution of them, by
posting up in workshops and buildings, as we remember to have seen in
our younger days, in respect of notices in which the Working Builder was
interested. It is the more necessary that we should request this aid,
when it is considered how totally new a channel of publishing business it
is into which we are thrown._

_We must beg to refer our readers to much of that which is given in the
precursor number, by way of explanation of our intentions as to the
future. It would be an injustice to those who have already read that
number, to reprint our remarks in this; more than which, we can do better
than by mere stale repetition. At every point of progress we find new
matter of comment, and an extent of working-ground that would be but
poorly appreciated if we were to be constantly taking up a preoccupied
position. Our forward view abounds in interest, and the stirring
incidents on every side are such as tax our pen to record. We shall,
therefore, be excused calling attention to our previous number._


TO OUR CORRESPONDENTS.

_The readers of THE BUILDER will be pleased to observe, that although
it appears in the form of a Magazine, our own mind is not made up or
reconciled to its continuing in that character, or at any rate in that
character alone. We shall look forward with some anxiety to the period
when we should be enabled to make it a complete Weekly Journal, and
this cannot be done without comprehending news; neither do we think it
economy that it should be otherwise—economy of time and economy of means
are involved in it, particularly with the workman. A newspaper is to him
a desideratum, and why should he be driven to something like a double
reading, and the purchase of two papers: one containing a good deal of
matter of no interest in the world to him, when so ready a means of
combining both is offered as in this instance!_

_It is requested that where there has been any irregularity in the
transmission of THE BUILDER, notice will be forwarded immediately to the
office._

_Received Mr. Freeman Roe’s small tract, entitled “~The Common Pump,
&c.~” which, as it may be practically interesting to many, we shall take
an early opportunity of transcribing from._

_Lithographic print of the Wesleyan Theological Institution, Richmond,
Andrew Trimen, Esq., architect. We shall notice this structure at an
early opportunity._

“_Palmer’s Patent Glyphography, or Engraved Drawing._”

_Kelly’s Post Office Almanack._

_Design and explanation of “A self-supporting Institution” for the
Labouring Classes._

_We are also preparing a weekly table of prices of Building materials;
and a long list of Buildings in progress, and contemplated. All additions
to our knowledge on this head will be thankfully received._

_We have in preparation several articles:—1st. On Wood Pavements. 2nd.
“The Metropolitan Model Institution, for improving the dwellings of the
Industrious Classes.” 3rd. On Casinos in public parks and gardens. 4th.
The Continuation of the Review of Bardwell’s Temples. 5th. Notice of
Palmer’s Glyphography, &c._




TABLE OF AMUSEMENTS.


PLACES OF AMUSEMENT OPEN GRATIS TO THE PUBLIC.

BRITISH MUSEUM.—Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, from 10 to 4.

NATIONAL GALLERY.—Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, from 10 to 5.

SIR J. SOANE’S MUSEUM.—Every Tuesday and Friday, till July.

HAMPTON COURT PALACE.—Every day except Saturday and Sunday, before 2.

WINDSOR CASTLE STATE ROOMS.—Daily, except Friday.

SOCIETY OF ARTS.—Every day except Wednesday.

EAST INDIA HOUSE MUSEUM.—Every Saturday, from 11 to 3.

ST. PAUL’S.—Every day, from 9 to 10, and from 3 to 4.

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.—Ditto.




ADVERTISEMENTS.


COMMERCIAL and GENERAL LIFE ASSURANCE, ANNUITY, ENDOWMENT, and LOAN
ASSOCIATION.

112, Cheapside, London.

Capital 500,000_l._ in shares of 50_l._ each. Deposit 2_l._ per share.

DIRECTORS.

    Henry George Ward, Esq., M.P., Chairman.
    John Aylwin, Esq., Dulwich.
    Robert Bastow, Esq., 20, Surrey-place, Old Kent-road.
    William Bastow, Esq., 20, Surrey-place, Old Kent-road.
    Henry Cornfoot, Esq., Old Palace, Richmond.
    Adam Duff, Esq., Morden-hill, Blackheath.
    Henry Hind Edwards, Esq., Park Village East, Regent’s-park.
    Edward Evans, Esq., 2, Stones’-end, Borough.
    Robert Meggay, Esq., 38, Great Tower-street.
    Richard Pope, Esq., 11, North Terrace, Camberwell.
    John Richards, Esq., 17, New Bridge-street, Blackfriars, and Reading.
    Thomas Bush Saunders, Esq., 19, Lincoln’s-inn-fields.

Rates of premium calculated on as low a rate as is consistent with the
safety of the assured and the stability of the Company.

A septennial division of the profits, either in the way of bonuses, or in
the reduction of premiums; two-thirds to the assured, and one-third to
the proprietors.

A system of loan upon personal or other securities, provided the party
borrowing assures his life for double the amount he receives.

Policies which shall have been assigned six months as a bona fide
security not void by death from suicide, duelling, or the hands of
justice.

No entrance fee or other charge beyond the policy stamp.

All matters in dispute, where no fraud is suspected, to be referred to
arbitration.

Claims payable three months after death, or earlier on receiving a
discount.

A liberal commission to all parties bringing business.

Premiums payable yearly, half-yearly, or quarterly.

Medical referees paid by the Office in every case referred to them for
their professional opinions.

Interest at the rate of 5_l._ per cent. allowed on the paid-up capital.

Applications for the remaining shares, agencies, and prospectuses, to be
made to the Secretary, 112, Cheapside.

Board days, Mondays and Thursdays, at half-past One o’clock.

                                            FREDERICK LAWRANCE, Secretary.

       *       *       *       *       *

WILLIAM PATTEN and CO., WINDOW-GLASS, SHEET LEAD, WHITE LEAD, VARNISH
and COLOUR MERCHANTS, respectfully inform the Trade and their Friends in
general, that they have removed from their late Residence and Places of
Business in Little Distaff-lane, and Little Knight-rider-street, to more
convenient Premises, situate No. 20, OLD FISH-STREET, DOCTORS’-COMMONS.

W. P. and CO. will be happy to forward Prices by post, but decline to
publish them, conceiving it to be injurious to the Trade.

       *       *       *       *       *

LAWRENCE and CO., 55, PARLIAMENT-STREET, WESTMINSTER, and 10, YORK-PLACE,
LAMBETH, Successors to the Patentees and Manufacturers in Zinc to her
Majesty the Queen Dowager. Original makers of Malleable Sheet Zinc Bars
and Wire, Drawers of Tubes, and Sash-bars. Perforated Zinc for Larders,
Safes, and Blinds. Roofs and Verandahs covered with Zinc. Rain Pipes,
Chimney Pipes, Cowls, &c. Gutters, Ridges, and Sky Lights. Baths and Zinc
Door-plates.

N.B. The Trade supplied. Patent Smoke-curers, and Chimney-shafts,
wholesale, retail, and for export. Fine Swedish Steel.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration]

WEAK LEGS, KNEES, and ANKLES.—Surgeons in England, Ireland, and Scotland
continue to recommend BAILEY’S ELASTIC LACED STOCKINGS, KNEE CAPS,
and ANKLE SOCKS. They are light, cool, and warranted to wash. Since
the reduction of postage, afflicted persons in the country can have
any bandage by post for a few pence, by forwarding their measure. The
particular property of the Stocking is to give constant support in
varicose veins, weak, swollen, or dropsical affections of the legs, or
in any case requiring equable pressure. The Knee-Cap will be of great
service where the knee-joint requires support from accident to the pan of
the knee, after inflammation, rheumatic or gouty affections, or in any
case where, from weakness of the part, support may be required.

Laced Stockings, 18s. 6d.; Elastic Knee-Caps, 10s. 6d.; Patent Trusses,
properly adapted, 12s. 6d.; Hunting Belts, 2s. 6d. to 4s. 6d. each.
Ladies’ Belts of every kind.

Mrs. Bailey waits on Ladies.

Rupture Trusses properly adapted to suit the case.

Address 418, Oxford-street, London.