ies have adopted different ideals as to the logical present and
future development of their eclectic system. In short, the situation may
be summed up in the query, How "Free" may our Classic become and not
offend good taste and common sense?

The Englishman, naturally conservative, clings rigidly to the old
systems of domestic planning, and, although varied and often enriched in
detail, the exterior of his Queen Anne houses is, in the generality of
cases, simply a reflection of earlier works designed for the School
Board of London. The planning of these houses is irregular in the
extreme, symmetry and balance of parts are ignored, and the
communication between the various apartments is complicated and often
tortuous. Their long and narrow corridors, and the infrequent use of the
furnace or steam-coil as a means for procuring an equitable diffusion of
heat, necessitate the screening of doors by placing them in
out-of-the-way angles and around corners, to prevent draughts. The
humid climate of England renders the veranda objectionable, and the
windows, rarely fitted for blinds, are grouped together and divided by
light and graceful mullions,--a relic of Tudor practice.

The American architect starts upon his revival with less precedent and
conservatism either to assist or to hinder him. He can therefore adopt
any system he pleases, or, by combining several styles, compose a
thoroughly eclectic design; and he is apt to take full advantage of his
opportunities, for his "Free Classic" is free indeed.

No style of domestic architecture can be good or partake of "high-art"
qualities that cannot be claimed as a true exponent of the family and
social life of the period to which it owes its birth and development. A
whimsical fashion in dress, in equipages, or in the etiquette of society
may be tolerated without injury to the national advancement. Such
fashions are transitory, springing suddenly into notice and as rapidly
passing into oblivion. With architecture it is different: here follies
are wrought into durable form. We see an ultra Queen Anne house of
to-day, and its quaintness and odd conceits attract our fancy. We put up
with its manifest incongruities and inconveniences, and for a time all
goes well. But when we tire of four-by-four-inch fenestration, glazed
with rough cathedral-glass, the lines of the tower several inches off
the vertical and bulged in the centre to give the effect of age, the
rough and massive walls--