CHAPTER I.

On Housing and Domestic Architecture.

In hot climates, as elsewhere, people are rarely in a position to exercise much choice in their selection of a habitation, as its site must usually depend on considerations of business, and in the majority of cases, the number of available dwellings is limited. Oftener still, it is a matter of “Hobson’s choice,” and one must needs occupy the house that has served one’s predecessors in the work in which one may happen to be engaged. On this account it will be superfluous to do more than generally indicate the general principles on which it is desirable, that houses designed to afford shelter in hot climates, should be placed and constructed.

In the matter of choice of site, the same general considerations as to soil and configuration of the ground that determine our choice in temperate climates, as a rule, hold good. A gravelly or sandy soil, and gradients favourable to natural drainage, are even greater desiderata in the Tropics than in Europe, and this is especially the case in climates characterised by a heavy rainfall; but ideal sites are rare in all countries, and as a rule, one must be content to make the best of less favourably placed spots. In the countries which we are at present considering, the especial danger against which we have to guard is always that of malaria, and hence, in choosing the site for a house or station, the great point is to select one, which is, as far as possible, free from natural or artificial collections of water, within a radius of a quarter of a mile; or at any rate, including such only as can be easily filled in, drained, or otherwise dealt with. The site should also be sufficiently raised above the level of some natural watercourse to afford an adequate outfall for its surface drainage.

For a single house, no better position can be selected than the summit of a mound, whether natural or artificial; and such situations are generally to be preferred to the slope of a hill, even where the latter affords a considerably greater elevation. On the sea coast, and not unfrequently in the neighbourhood of some of the great rivers, sand dunes, where sufficiently clad with vegetation to afford a sufficiently stable foundation, form excellent sites for single houses, good examples of which are to be found in Chittagong, where nearly every European residence has its own little hill, on which it is perched by itself; and it is doubtless to this circumstance that the comparative healthiness of the European population of the town, under otherwise unfavourable surroundings, is mainly due. The neighbourhood of jungle, and even of trees, should be as far as possible avoided, for trees undoubtedly harbour mosquitoes, and their presence is generally equivalent to that of malaria: moreover, the appearance of coolness, associated with trees, is deceptive rather than real. As a rule, even when numerous and thickly set, they throw no actual shade on the walls of the house, which hence receives as fully the power of the sun as it would in an open plain, and added to this they obstruct the breeze and generally impede ventilation; so that a house placed in the midst of a glaring, treeless space is often really far cooler than one surrounded with fine timber. Even a garden is by no means too desirable an adjunct to a tropical residence, for unless there is abundant labour to keep it in a condition of perfect neatness, and constant intelligent supervision to ensure that the cultivation of flowers and vegetables be not associated with the breeding of mosquitoes, it is only too likely to originate fever of a luxuriance at least equalling that of its roses and salads.

It must not of course be forgotten, that the provision of a free supply of good vegetables is everywhere an essential to health, and is in many localities obtainable in no other way than by the maintenance of a garden, and that under such circumstances, it is probably safest to keep their cultivation under personal supervision; but where such an accessory is indispensable, its attendant dangers should always be carefully borne in mind, and care should be taken that the garden should be so worked as to avoid its becoming a breeding place for mosquitoes. A house for example, such as that shown in the subjoined sketch, makes, doubtless, a very inviting picture, but when lived in, it would be found that the fine trees almost completely cut off the breeze, that the beautiful creepers render the verandahs and the rooms behind them “stuffy,” and that the wealth of vegetation, combined with the arrangements for irrigation, render it a veritable paradise of mosquitoes.

Coming now to questions of general plan, one of the first essentials is that the floor level should be well raised above that of the surrounding ground. In most localities this object is attained by simply forming a platform of earth dug from some situation hard by, so as to form a plinth; and too often, the excavations for the purpose are made absolutely without plan or method, and result in the production of a number of irregular depressions, close by the habitation; which during rainy weather are always full of water, and form ideal breeding places for mosquitoes, besides too often serving as depositories for refuse. The earth for forming the plinth should, however, never be allowed to be obtained in this way, but previously to laying out the plan of the house or station, a careful survey of the levels and contours of the site should be made, and the alignment of a series of deep cuttings, so designed as to form an efficient system of surface drains extending from the site to the nearest natural effluent, should be laid out, so that the spoil wherewith to form plinths should be taken in a systematic manner in the digging of these cuttings, and from no other situations. The cuttings should be made as deep and narrow as they can be without expensive revetting of the sides, as experience has shown that the larvæ of the really dangerous species of mosquitoes, the _Anopheletes_, avoid collections of water shielded from the sun and light. As the station develops, it may perhaps become possible to pave these channels with some permanent material, such as brick or concrete, but as a rule the expense of such a proceeding is prohibitory. When, however, a certain amount of money is available for this purpose, it should be devoted to paving the smaller shallow surface drains close to the dwelling, and the deeper distant cuttings close to the effluent left to the last. No house should ever be allowed to be constructed with a plinth of less than one foot, and provided the material be obtainable without making undesirable excavations, it cannot well be too high, a fact well understood by the earlier European residents in India, whose fine old houses, however wanting their work may be in the matter of finish, form an admirable contrast, in this and many others of the essentials of a healthy residence, to the cramped, low-lying heat traps of admirably pointed brickwork in which the occupant of a “sealed pattern” government quarter is now doomed to live.

The writer is personally strongly of opinion that all tropical residences should be at least two storied, so that the sleeping apartments should be raised at least some 12 or 15 feet above the ground, and of course, where this is the case, the provision of a high plinth is less essential, but in any case, the minimum of at least a foot should be insisted upon.

In regions such as Assam and Burmah, where the rains are so heavy as to reduce the entire country to a chronic condition of flooding, any adequate plinth would be so costly that both natives and settlers build their houses perched up on poles, and the numerous sanitary advantages of the plan are undeniable; which is also, I understand, adopted in Honduras.

The general characteristics of these “_chang_” houses may be gathered from the above sketch. In the cottages of the peasantry the “_chang_,” or platform, is rarely raised more than 4 or 5 feet above the ground, but 10, or even 15 feet is no uncommon height in the case of the houses of people of means and position. Even in the case of houses occupied by planters and officials, the walls are largely composed of bamboo matting, while in those of the populace, the floor itself is formed of a stouter variety of the same material; and on account of the growing cost of timber of a class that will resist white ants, I have little doubt that ere long steel girders will replace the wooden framework and corrugated iron will take the place of the picturesque thatched roof, at any rate in the coast towns. A _chang_ of concrete carried on stout corrugated iron, 8-inch walls of the “Elizabethan” pattern, and a double corrugated iron roof, with a large intervening air space, would form a most comfortable, if not very beautiful, residence, for the combination of heat and moisture with the evils of which the _chang_ house is intended to cope; but walls of such flimsy materials would be of little avail to withstand the furnace-heated air of hot dry climates, such as are met with in the Punjab and the deserts of Rajputana.

One of the great sanitary advantages of the _chang_ house is the circulation of air beneath the floors, and the comparative immunity from vermin secured by its isolation on the top of high posts, and though there is no objection to the storing beneath it of carriages and other articles frequently moved, because in daily request, the covered space beneath the house should on no account be allowed to degenerate into a lumber room, as not only will lumber attract dangerous vermin, but with the inevitable numerous native dependants, the lumber room will soon develop into a refuse heap, or worse. Although there is no need to construct a regular plinth, the ground below the _chang_ should always be slightly raised by laying down a layer of gravel, as any collection of water would be obviously unhealthy; besides which, if kept in proper order, the large shady space forms an excellent playground for children, where such charming encumbrances form part of the household.

In actually desert climates, a plinth is less essential, but there are comparatively few countries in which heavy rain does not occur at some time of the year, and any dampness of the soil immediately underlying a house is always unhealthy.

The second great desideratum of a tropical house is free ventilation, to secure which at least one, and preferably two, sides of each room should be in free communication with the outer air by means of doors or windows, and some at least of these should extend to the floor level or near it. Many Indian houses are spoilt by want of attention to this point, especially those of long standing; for though the original plan may have been fairly sound, the desire for additional accommodation generally, in course of time, leads to additions, and especially to the enclosure of verandahs, whereby rooms, originally light and airy, are quite cut off from all exterior ventilation. Many of these enclosed rooms have small dormer or clerestory windows, close up to the roof; but openings of this sort are no real substitute for proper windows and doors in the usual position, and where choice can be exercised, a house with inner rooms should be rejected in favour of one affording freer ventilation.

The subjoined plan is a good example of an existing, well-planned bungalow of one floor, in which every room has external doors and windows, and several have them on two sides. It should be added that every room has one or more clerestory windows to give exit to the heated air that always finds its way to the top of any enclosed space.

In the best class of houses in Persia this principle of free external ventilation is often carried to the extent of all four sides of the rooms being provided with several openings--the different rooms being separated from each other by open passages, running right across the building from verandah to verandah.

As there are often several doors on each side, one easily realises that Aladdin’s hundred-doored palace may have been no mere creation of the fancy, but was probably based on some actual palace--indeed, as a matter of fact, the Subsabad Residency at Bushire has, I believe, a good deal over the allowance of doors assigned to Aladdin’s palace, and I know that the room I occupied there had no less than nine doors, though two of them gave access respectively to a dressing-room and bath-room.

The outline (fig. 4) will give some idea of the way in which the rooms are arranged; but it is needless to say that the plan is a very expensive one. It will be noticed that the southern verandahs are double. Practically speaking, indeed, a Persian house is little else than a series of colonnades, with the spaces between certain of the pillars filled in with door frames, so that it would be an expensive business to fortify one against the invasion of mosquitoes.

Houses of this type are well suited to climates usually blessed with a good breeze, and in which the heat during the day does not reach such a degree as to necessitate shutting it out, and are specially adapted to places where, from scarcity of labour, there is a difficulty about the pulling of punkahs. When, however, the midday heat reaches into the nineties, such a plan of building becomes unsuitable, and it is necessary to adopt the thick-walled type of house, with comparatively few floor level openings; the object being to keep imprisoned the cooler night air, so that the interior may never approach the maximum shade temperature of the day. It is obvious that the adoption of this principle quite precludes all proper ventilation, and that unless the rooms are exceptionally large and lofty it must be positively unhealthy. At the same time, heat beyond a certain degree induces such severe nervous and physical prostration that the adoption of this course is almost unavoidable during the worst hours of the day in such climates as the Punjab; but the shorter the period the better, and as the same reasons that render the house cooler than the outer air in the day, make it hotter at night; it is always well to compensate for the lack of ventilation during the day by sleeping absolutely in the open at night.

Too often, not only the air, but the light is shut out, a course of action which is as pernicious as it is futile, for unless the sun be shining directly into the room its temperature will be in no way raised by admitting an ample amount of light.

There can be no doubt that this baneful practice of keeping children shut up in darkened rooms is one of the principal causes of the blanched and enfeebled little ones so often met with in India; for they suffer promptly from deprivation of light, though they are wonderfully tolerant of heat, and if unchecked by their anxious mothers, will follow their own wholesome instincts, and be found romping and tumbling about with the servants and orderlies in the verandah, at temperatures that make their parents devote anxious consideration to the question of crossing a room.

The third important consideration in planning a good tropical house is that the outer walls should, as far as possible, be shielded from the direct rays of the sun by ample verandahs. Objects exposed to the full glare of the sun soon become so hot that it is difficult to handle them, reaching a temperature 40° or 50° F. higher than that of the air, and though building materials conduct heat but slowly, they do so very surely, so that the air within any building with extensive unshielded sunward walls cannot fail to be considerably hotter than that of one so planned that as small an area of wall as possible is directly exposed. Within the true Tropics, the sun must necessarily come to the northward of any localities for a longer or shorter portion of the year, and in such low latitudes it is desirable that the verandah should extend all round the house; but outside the equatorial zone the side looking away from the noon-day sun may be left unprotected as far as the coolness of the house is concerned; though a northern verandah is still desirable, as affording the most eligible position for an open air lounge during the day. Within practicable limits, a verandah can hardly be too wide, and as one of its main functions is to shield the main wall, it is also important that it should be high pitched, but this point is too often lost sight of, although the additional cost of constructing a higher-pitched verandah is very small, as the supports of these structures cost but little, in comparison with the roof. Of course the oblique rays of the sun will search into a high verandah for a longer time than they can in a low one, but this defect is easily obviated by closing the upper part of the colonade with wooden jalousies or with mats, but in this case openings should be provided in the roof to give exit to what must be almost dead air. Verandahs of less than six feet width are of comparatively little use, and 10 feet may be considered to be a fair average standard, but 15 feet is by no means excessive, if it can be afforded, and as shown in the diagram on page 9, double verandahs, consisting of two colonnades, each about 12 feet wide, are by no means uncommon in Persia.

To attain an equivalent standard of comfort, the rooms of a tropical house require to be much higher pitched than is needful in temperate climates, but it is quite possible to carry this to excess, as over a certain height, the pendulum swing of the punkah is too slow; and it is well known to students of ventilation that spaces of dead air, unsearched by the currents normally circulating through the room, are very apt to be found in too lofty apartments. From 16 to 18 feet is a good average standard, and if the height be carried many feet above the higher figure, it is desirable that a strong beam should be carried across the room, at about that level, to carry the punkah. As far as ventilation is concerned, there is probably little advantage in any height of ceiling above 13 feet, but this does not give an adequate swing for a punkah.

As already incidentally mentioned, the writer holds a strong preference for houses of two or more floors. While residents of Calcutta or Bombay will never, if they can avoid it, live on the ground floor, there is a general but quite unfounded idea, amongst up-country residents in India, that upper floors are necessarily hotter.

It is needless to say that the reverse is actually the case, and that other things being equal, upper storey rooms are necessarily cooler and more healthy, on account of their better exposure to the breeze and their being to a great extent raised above dust and other more subtle emanations from the soil. The reason for this misapprehension is that, outside the Presidency towns, upper rooms are almost universally makeshift additions, with no proper verandah protection, and often flimsy roofs. Now it is obvious that to gain the full advantage of an upper storey, all verandahs should be carried right up, so that except in being elevated above the soil, the upper rooms are exact reproductions of those below them. I cannot recall, however, a single instance of a properly planned two-storied house “up-country,” and it is absurd to expect that a room with thin brick walls, exposed directly to the sun’s rays, can be as comfortable as one with massive walls and broad verandahs. It may be admitted that during the day, when the doors are shut to keep out the heat, the upper rooms of a two-storied house will be hotter than the lower ones, because one has but a single roof overhead in place of two, but they will be cooler than the lower ones would be, assuming the upper story to be removed.

It is also extremely desirable that the plan of the house should include a stair giving access to the roof, as during the hot dry season, there can be no doubt that it is by far the healthiest plan to sleep there.

A small area of thatched roof supported on four pillars should be erected on the roof to protect the sleeper from dew, and to prevent his being worried by the glare of the moon, which to say the least of it makes it very difficult to sleep. Whether there is any truth in the belief that exposure to the moon’s rays may cause blindness or not, I cannot say, but I certainly have met with a number of cases of temporary blindness for which it was, to say the least of it, extremely difficult to find any plausible explanation other than the popular one. Moreover, as we are quite in the dark as to the _modus operandi_ of true sunstroke, it seems unscientific to deny that over-stimulation of the retina by the moon’s rays can be capable of producing the symptoms in question, and at any rate it is preferable to act on the assumption that “moon-blindness” may be a possible contingency.

It is, further, a matter of great importance that the upper limits of the air-space included within a room should be ventilated by means of openings placed close up to the ceiling, as otherwise a stratum of impure, heated air will lodge there, which can only be removed by the slow action of diffusion. In one-storied houses this is usually effected by means of small windows, and in order to admit of a sufficient number of these being provided, it is a common expedient to carry the walls of rooms situated in the interior of the house above those of the lateral rooms, as shown in fig. 4. There should, however, be no necessity for doing this, as no room should be ever built with no external wall; and though upper openings on more sides than one may be desirable, this is not so essential as to warrant the large increase of cost involved in building in this way. Where a house has an upper storey, the top ventilation of the lower rooms is usually effected by openings into the verandahs; but this is by no means a satisfactory outlet, and it would be far preferable to effect the purpose by means of shafts carried up in the thickness of the walls to the roof, the long column of air within which would favour the production of a good current.

In certain parts of the East, subterranean chambers (_taikhana_) are used as a refuge during periods of extreme heat, and are occasionally to be met with in very old European bungalows, though I have never seen one in actual use. Good examples are to be seen in the ruins of the historical Residency at Lucknow; and it was within them that many of the women and children were sheltered during the memorable siege. They can, of course, be ventilated only from above; but there can be no doubt that they are cooler than rooms above ground, and it is possible that the principle might be adopted with advantage under certain extreme climatic conditions.

The materials appropriate for house-building necessarily vary according to the character of the climate, but it is desirable to consider briefly the advantages and disadvantages of those in most common use. Taking first the structure of the walls, it may be noted that in rainy climates near the coast, where very high temperatures are seldom registered, the materials can hardly be too flimsy and permeable; but as one recedes from the coast and meets with the extreme climates characteristic of the interior of continents, it will be found that the buildings become progressively more massive; so that while the Bengali or Malay inhabits a shanty formed of thatch and matting, the peasant of the Punjab shelters himself within mud halls some two feet thick. These differences in domestic architecture are the necessary outcome of differing environment, and to be comfortable, European houses must be built of very much the same materials as those of the natives around them.

In dry climates, sun-dried bricks make an excellent wall, which resists heat even better than one of burnt brick, and provided it be protected from rain, it is wonderfully permanent and much stronger than would be expected; so that heavy, terraced roofs are easily carried by a two-feet thickness of this material, and they are even quite adequate to sustain a second story of lighter materials. The great drawback of the material is that it forms a favourite haunt for white ants, which tunnel it in all directions; but this can easily be obviated by introducing, just at the floor level, a single course of some damp and insect-proof material, such as burnt brick, laid on cement and tarred. Owing to its extreme cheapness a large house can be built for the same expenditure as a small one of burned brick, and as air space is of the greatest importance in hot climates, it is unfortunate that this material is not more utilised in Government buildings.

_Flooring._--The most suitable material is stone flagging, marble, of course, being preferable. After these come hard tiles, brick on edge, and cement, in order of desirability. Besides these there are, of course, various special modern inventions, but they hardly come into practical consideration, outside large seaports. Wooden floors should be generally avoided, as owing to decay and the attacks of insects, they are apt to become dangerous, and may give way unexpectedly at any time. For upper floors, by far the most suitable material is the narrow brick arch supported on steel girders, which are now so generally obtainable and cheap, that they can be economically substituted for wooden beams in any locality tolerably accessible from a railway.

One great advantage of this form of construction of flooring and terraced roofs, is the entire absence of nooks and crannies which can harbour vermin, for even the equally massive roofs of concrete, laid on flat tiles supported by a system of beams and battens, afford most dangerous refuges for disagreeable intruders, and I well remember an inmate of my house being put to intense suffering on two successive nights by vermin that fell from such a roof; the first disturber of our rest being an enormous centipede, and the second a hornet. For the same reason, all cornices and similar architectural adornments are distinctly to be deprecated.

The roofing materials generally employed in tropical countries are thatch, tiling, terraced constructions, and corrugated iron. Thatch is, from many points of view, an excellent material, as while it favours ventilation by being extremely pervious to air, it gives excellent shelter from rain, and is quite unequalled as a protection against the sun; in addition to which it does not, to any appreciable extent, throw out into the house during the night the heat absorbed during the day.

With all this, it has great and, it is to be feared, preponderating disadvantages, the principal of which is that it forms a perfectly ideal refuge for vermin of all sorts, vertebrate and invertebrate. As a rule, owing to the high pitch necessary in this form of roofing, the lower edge of the roof is rarely more than a few feet from the ground, and owing to the usual existence of creepers, trellises and similar facilities, is usually easily accessible to any animal endowed with the most moderate powers of climbing. Owing to this, such roofs are usually honeycombed with the nests of squirrels, rats, civet cats, and half wild domestic cats, to say nothing of snakes, and birds and other flying things. The large empty space between the ceilings and the rafters is usually alive with bats, and as all this extensive population is quite without any system of conservancy, an old thatched roof is simply permeated with guano; and the emanations from this necessarily find their way into the house, and indeed are always plainly perceptible in a thatched house that, for any reason, has been shut up for any length of time.

Besides this, the substance of the thatching is always slowly decomposing under the slow action of mildew, and this adds further musty exhalations to the bouquet. Hence, if used at all, the thatch should be completely renewed at frequent intervals, and its employment should be confined to situations which cannot be scaled by large vertebrate vermin.

Where it is used, the interior of the rooms should be completely cut off from the cavity of the roof by some fairly impervious ceiling, such as one formed of match-boarding, and not, as is commonly the case, by a “ceiling cloth” of ill-stretched canvas.

These “ceiling cloths” are utter abominations, and, even when their untidy appearance is ameliorated by subdividing the cloth into a number of small panels, the improvement is purely one of appearance, and in no way diminishes their sanitary defects, so that no effort should be spared to induce landlords to replace them with match-boarding or any material that will shut out the emanations from the thatch and its inhabitants.

For some reason, the lath-and-plaster ceilings and partitions, so commonly used in Europe, are never employed in Indian house-building. It is difficult to understand why this is so, as the natives are skilful plasterers, and there would be no difficulty whatever in teaching them this particular application of their trade, which would be a valuable and inexpensive expedient in this and a number of other cases.

Tiles of the old-fashioned sort present few of the advantages of thatch, and most of its disadvantages, besides numerous special objections of their own, but these remarks do not apply to roofs formed of large tiles of European patterns laid on a properly graded framework of squared battens. To these latter the only objection is that they let in too much heat unless they are supplemented with a tolerably substantial ceiling; and the same remarks apply even more to corrugated iron, but both these materials, and especially tiles, are excellent materials for verandahs, especially those of upper stories, where weight is a consideration.

Corrugated iron, however, is scarcely tolerable in extreme climates unless it is actually doubled, and the most scientific way of doing this is to form a ceiling of corrugated iron of a thin gauge screwed _up_ to light joists and painted white below. On the upper surface, should be spread about an inch of dry sand, to retain which it is necessary that any ventilation openings should be protected with a wooden edging. The outer roof should be of stouter gauge, and must of course be pitched at an appropriate slope, and it is of the first importance that the space between the two roofs should be freely ventilated by large openings placed at the apices of the gables, but these openings should be secured against the entry of birds and cats by means of wire netting, and all other openings by which they can enter should be carefully closed with plaster. The coolness of a roof so planned depends largely on the thickness of the layer of dry sand, and, provided the joists that carry the sheets are fairly strong, there is no difficulty in raising this to even a couple of inches. The preceding materials all have the disadvantage that they must be pitched at a considerable slope, and hence cannot be used as a platform for sleeping on.

All considered, however, a terraced roof, formed of brick arches supported on steel girders, covered with concrete, is by far the best for most tropical climates. It forms an excellent protection against sun and rain, and the smooth finish of both its upper and lower surfaces offers absolutely no hiding place for even insects; besides which it forms an excellent elevated platform on which to sleep during periods of intense dry heat. Its one disadvantage is that a great deal of the heat absorbed during the day is radiated into the rooms at night, and that it generally is inferior as a non-conductor either to thatch, or to double roofs of any description.

Another form of terraced roof commonly found in dry climates consists of a considerable thickness of beaten clay, spread on mats supported on a system of beams and battens.

Owing to their great thickness and the fact that the clay conducts heat much less easily than burnt bricks, such roofs are very cool, and they form a good sleeping platform; but they give endless trouble during periods of rain, as they _always_ leak at the beginning of one, and vermin are apt to harbour amongst the matting and battens that carry the mud. Owing to their immense weight, too, they are not free from danger, especially as they are usually found in combination with walls of unburnt brick, which offer no obstacle whatever to the tunnelling of white ants, which thus can readily reach the beams, the interior of which may be entirely eaten away by these mischievous insects without any sign of the mischief appearing externally.

All the above considerations appear at first sight tolerably obvious and would, one would think, be adopted wherever not rendered impracticable by consideration of cost, and yet it is perfectly wonderful to notice how frequently every consideration of common-sense sanitation and comfort is ignored in buildings, on which neither space nor expense have been stinted.

Quite recently the writer halted in a large hotel which illustrated this point in a most pitiable manner. The masonry was admirable, being worthy almost of an Egyptian monument, and speaking generally, it was obvious that expense had been almost disregarded by the enterprising proprietors. The management showed every desire to secure the comfort of their guests, and the cuisine was excellent. In spite of this the bulk of the rooms were scarcely habitable, as they seemed contrived to give a tropical sun the best possible chance to make itself felt. Save for a verandah of paltry width to the magnificent dining-room, these indispensable adjuncts of a tropical residence were absolutely wanting.

Moreover, this omission was clearly not due to any desire or necessity for economising space, for the area absolutely wasted in the form of corridors was astonishing, and could not have fallen short of half the space occupied by the sleeping rooms, though these were exceptionally spacious. Facing south-east, the full glare of the sun and the dazzling reflection from the sea glared directly into the windows of the most desirably placed rooms, without even the protection of an ordinary “jalousie,” while the magnificent view was shut out by windows of granulated greenish glass, the sashes being pivoted in such a way as to make it difficult to enjoy either the breeze or the prospect, even when they were opened. Apart from these latter details, the building would be admirably adapted for the accommodation of winter visitors in Italy, where the sun is made to do duty for artificial heat, and the whole is a striking example of the way in which the most lavish expenditure may be rendered futile by a want of due appreciation of the principles that should govern tropical domestic architecture. I give this instance mainly to show that, however self-evident the principles described above may appear, they are far from being generally appreciated.

These principles may be briefly epitomised as follows:--

(1) Through ventilation of all rooms.

(2) The elevation of all rooms, and especially of sleeping chambers, to as great a height as practicable above the ground.

(3) The selection of appropriate building materials which cannot harbour vermin.

(4) The shielding of outer walls from becoming heated by the direct rays of the sun by the provision of adequate verandahs.

(5) The application of the same principle to the construction of roofs by planning them so as to secure a well-ventilated air space between the actual roof and a fairly substantial ceiling, or by constructing them of massive materials, if single.

(6) The admission of sufficient light.

In the case of a house of moderate dimensions, these principles might be carried out as follows:--

Basement of brick arches ten feet high, including a low plinth and thickness of floor. These arches would be utilised for the accommodation of the kitchen, cook room, pantry, lamp room, store room, coach house, and well house, the well being placed beneath the house, and so well protected from any neighbouring fouling of the soil. The platform of the house supported on these arches would be pierced only by a concealed staircase for the use of the sweeper, but this would not be in communication with the other offices, though a hand lift might advantageously be arranged between kitchen and dining room. First floor 18 feet high-dining room, drawing room, office, and one or more bedrooms with dressing and bathrooms communicating with them, if large accommodation is required. Verandah all round not less than 10 feet wide. Second floor, 17 feet in height--principal bedrooms with dressing and bathrooms, some of the central rooms provided with terraced roof; the rest, together with the verandahs, with tiles of good pattern, the rooms having substantial ceilings. On terraced roof-large iron water-tank, with windmill to work force pump from well; small sleeping shelter, and protected with corrugated iron roof, supported on pillars.

It would be well to have the southern verandahs (in the northern hemispheres) of greater width than the others, and to place in them the stairs giving access to the second storey and to the roof.

The first floor would be reached by means of a flight of steps leading from the carriage drive, which might, if desired, be protected by a sloping porch. Such a house would, of course, be somewhat costly, but not much more so than one of equal accommodation constructed on the ordinary plan, and would undoubtedly be far more healthy than those of the usual type.

It is needless to remark that this imaginary residence would be completely protected against mosquitoes by means of metallic gauze, but the point is not dealt with here, as it is fully considered in the chapter on the prevention of malaria.