where it is possible, little attention is given to the direction of the sunlight in order that the living-rooms may receive the full benefit of the natural warmth, nor are those rooms where it is not needed, or minor offices, relegated to the exposed side. The most important external feature, the door, is seldom adjusted to the climate. Even in large office-buildings, hotels, and churches, where there should be ample space for every structural convenience, the door is frequently of cramped dimensions, and, instead of being preceded by a porch, which would be an integral part of the architecture, and which is absolutely essential in our long, cold, damp winters, is boarded up with "storm-doors" that are not only hideous in design but an actual obstruction. With the rapid increase in the value of land which has taken place in all our large cities in late years, a wild fear lest any inch be wasted has resulted in a compactness of plan that is frequently painful. The housekeeper longs for the roomy closets and ample storerooms of the old buildings; the fine hall that once formed an imposing and appropriate entrance has given place to the narrow entry through which it is frequently impossible to carry the larger articles of furniture. The same difficulty is experienced in the sharp, frequent turns which characterize so many stairways. Bedrooms are pushed into corners where they seldom have the benefit of pure, free air and the heat of the sun, for no other reason than that space is required for ample reception-rooms and state apartments, which, though used comparatively seldom, are treated as the most important part of the house.
The same indifference to the true ends of building are to be noted in public edifices as well as in private ones. Offices are small and frequently without light. In many churches it is impossible either to see the preacher or to hear him, and some of our public halls are not much better, while, as a crowning touch, the seats are placed so close together as to render them the very acme of discomfort to all but dwarfs. Nor are these structural differences the only ones that call for improvement. There are a multitude of modern contrivances that are yet in an undeveloped state. Questions of drainage, of heating, of artificial light, of elevators, of protection against fire, of ventilation, and the very means of supporting life, are not seldom denied us in structures that astound us by their size and which have cost vast sums. It is not because these things are expensive that they are neglected, nor because they are out of the range of our mechanical powers, but because they are looked upon as adjuncts to the buildings to be taken up at some later time and are then never given the strict attention they require. A draughtsman who has prepared a design that captivates him by its beauty, and seems destined to win a much-desired prize by its mere art superiority over other draw-
