it not for the generally disagreeable views that are obtainable from the backs of town-houses, I should be often inclined to advise that all the best rooms in such a case should be placed at the back, with projecting bays, and so to obtain, as far as is practicable, some glimpse and use of the sun during all hours of the day.
Why, too, can not the backs of our houses be made more decent, if only by means of glazed bricks varied occasionally with bands of color? when we see the backs of some of the grand, stucco-covered palaces of our western suburbs, we are apt to think of the old rhyme which, written on some piece of modern church or chapel architecture, says that—
"They built the front, upon my word,
As fine as any abbey;
And, thinking they might cheat the Lord,
They made the back part shabby."
Of course, I know glazed bricks are more expensive than the common stocks, but the extra expense would be amply repaid by the extra light and better air, for the glaze naturally makes the brick not absorbent, and every shower of rain would wash the walls, so faced, clean.
Why should we not have every new house in such places as Berkeley or Grosvenor Squares built with projecting oriels and bays, and high-pitched gables? The gables would add materially to the light and comfort—not to say anything of the artistic character—of the rooms, while the latter would surely be preferable to the generally miserable so-called dormers, which are, as a rule, set back behind the balconies or parapets, in the attics of most town-houses; these, I am told often, are quite good enough for servants, a selfish, cruel, if not a suicidal opinion; for, if we are to have servants in health, and fitted to carry out their daily occupations, with comfort to themselves and justice to their employers, their rooms should be just as light, airy, and cheerful as any others in the house. Let the sun call them in the morning if you can, and give a greeting in a light, cheery manner to the commencement of their daily labor. In addition to the manifest improvement to the elevation and rooms of the house, all these irregularities tend to promote movement in the air, to give light and shade, and thus to help toward health in the building, and pleasure in our walks abroad.
In speaking upon the next part of my subject, that of design, I desire to recognize and appreciate, in the largest possible sense, the varieties of taste which must necessarily prevail in an age where, as a rule, precedent and fashion are all-predominant; but I do insist that the external design, properly considered, that is, the general elevation of the street front, should and must be subservient to the internal requirements; and that the light, air, ventilation, and common-sense requirements of the house must in no way be sacrificed to the external
