advantage of the natural situation, the direction of the wind, the heat of the sun, the requirements of temperature and climate, all of which must receive due attention in good and economic building. Ornamentation, decoration, design, aesthetic effects, and other elements which are popularly supposed to compose architecture, are either neglected altogether or put to one side as matters which may receive attention after essential things have been considered. The Romans were fond of ornament, they loved to overload their structures with decorations of all kinds, and the number of statues employed in some of their public buildings was prodigious; but Pliny's letter shows that there were at least some among them who looked at architecture through the lens of common sense, and it is to them we must go in our search after truth.
Adaptation to its use was the chief element in Pliny's villa, the basis on which it rested, and the plan on which it was designed. There was no insistence on the beautiful or the elevation of artistic form to the chief place, but everything was arranged as convenience dictated or sense suggested, and all was in consequence admirably suited to the requirements of the owner. It was in these things that he found satisfaction, while if any part was arranged with elegance, so much the better; but as long as he was comfortable, as long as his windows opened on refreshing views, as long as every advantage was taken of the shade in summer or the heat of the sun in winter, as long as there were convenient and accessible places of retreat as well as ample rooms in which to entertain the guests, there was no fault to be found, and, as the owner was satisfied, who could complain?
The pleasure that Pliny derived from his villa is in striking contrast to the dissatisfaction that is expressed with modern buildings of all kinds—not dwellings alone, but stores and offices, churches and public buildings; with those erected in an inexpensive way, and those on which unlimited sums have been expended. The fault-finding is not a subdued murmur, but is general and outspoken, and, in the absence of any other object, is aimed at the architect, sometimes with a vigor that should be sufficient to arrest his attention. And the architects are largely to blame; for, as the leaders in the architectural movement, they naturally have a fuller acquaintance with the subject than a man who builds but one house in a lifetime, and, if they do not correct errors in construction, it is difficult to see who else is to be held responsible. The reasons for this state of things are obvious. Every man who undertakes to build a house seeks to make it a model dwelling in which the faults of every other building he is acquainted with will be corrected, and everything arranged to suit his ideas of comfort and utility. He begins with welldefined views, knows exactly what he wants, and lays them before
