becomes aware of his mistake. He finds that
the romance is out of doors, and that within-doors
everything is adapted, in a straightforward
way to the wants of the various sections
of a middle-class community. We say
nothing of the poor in wynds and closes,
as we have said nothing of the tenants of
the London alleys. In London, it is not only
the poor whom housebuilders neglect. In
Edinburgh, there is no other class left
unconsidered. A large division of the towns-people
is composed of what are termed in a
material sense, respectable persons, who soon
reach the limits of their income.  It is judged
in Edinburgh more proper to furnish such
people with dwelling-places of the character
and price required by them, than to force
them into the tenancy of houses priced above
their means, and to compel them to destroy all
their domestic comfort by going into slavery
to lodgers, in order that they may pay out of
artificial income, artificial rent.

In Edinburgh, as in some continental
towns, this problem is solved by the adoption
of a system of house-building which is refused
to the inhabitants of London — the system of
building in flats. There are complete houses
of two, three, four, or even ten stories, for
those who require them, cheaper, of course,
proportionately than in London. For those
who require less than this, there are the flats,
which are, generally speaking, to be defined
as one-storied houses, built one over the other,
and because they are so built, the street by
which they are approached takes, of course,
the form of a stone flight of stairs. One of
these independent flats sometimes includes
two storeys, in which case it has its domestic
staircase perfectly distinct from the common-stair,
which is in truth, as before said, a form
of street. Each flat is, in every respect, a
private dwelling, and contains, or should contain,
every requisite convenience. It may
consist of four, five, six, or more rooms; and
by renting a flat suited to his wants, a
bachelor, a married couple without children,
or a small family, may secure absolute independence
and retain any degree of social
standing as the occupant of a home containing
what is wanted in it, and no more, and which,
at the same time, costs only what can be
afforded.

The common-stair is at night well lighted
with gas. It is sometimes quite open below
to the street, sometimes closed by a door
which corresponds to the gate often set up at
the opening to private streets in London. It
is not usual in Edinburgh, as in Paris, to give
custody of this entrance to a porter. Bell-handles
communicating with each flat are
fixed in the street, and to each bell-handle is
attached the name of the person with whose
house it communicates. The servant of the
person whose bell is rung, is at the trouble of
opening the great entrance door, not by going
down to it; but by machinery like that used
often in London offices for causing front doors
to fly open, as if of their own accord. The
visitor, thereupon, ascends the private street
of stone steps until he comes to the house of
his friend, and enters.

It is much more a matter of necessity in
London than in Edinburgh and Paris, that
many of the inhabitants should live over their
neighbours' heads, and not merely side by
side with them. Already we do so in a
wretched way by occupying one another's
houses, interfering with each other's privacy
and comfort. It is a wretched thing to be a
London lodger; but it is yet a more wretched
thing to be a London letter of lodgings.
Already the size of London causes the distances
traversed in the course of business to
consume a serious amount of time. The cost
of ground-rents also rises. Why do our
builders then refuse to entertain this idea —
anything but a new-fangled one — of building
in flats one-storied houses, solidly constructed
and piled one over the other, so that they
may reduce ground-rent to a trifle as they
rise, and are capable of being let at rentals
varying from twenty pounds to forty. Tens
of thousands who have been thrust into a
false position by the want of properly constructed
homes of this description would be
eager to become their tenants.

They would need to be well built, with
good material, and that is no doubt one of
our great difficulties. The builder should
work solidly on solid means, but the number
of substantial builders seems in London to be
yearly lessening. We have been credibly informed
that in and about London the race of
bricklayers has been demoralised by the immense
preponderance of flimsy, slovenly erections,
and that it is not very easy to get men
capable of executing brickwork of the best
description. Men without capital speculate
successfully in bricks, and look no farther
than the present speculation. We have had
occasion to observe, how, with a capital of
fifty pounds, a terrace may be built, by mortgaging,
and selling now and then, and building
house after house so rapidly as to get
rentals soon, from which to pay a trifle
account of future bills for brick and timber.*
The terrace is soon built and sold; out of the
fifty pounds have been made several thousands,
and the public has been furnished with
residences which it is not likely to enjoy.

It may be that houses built in this fashion
can be offered for sale at a price which deters
many honest men from venturing on building
speculations. We do not know how that may
be. We have a strong conviction that if district
surveyors did all that they are bidden to
do by the Building Act, and were not — as
they now seem to be — ashamed of being
active, houses would not tumble down as
they do, and often would not tumble up
as they do. We fancy that we could be
more grateful than we sometimes feel towards
the whole profession of surveyors, if it would

* See Vol, viii. p. 217.