I remember reading in Mr. Paleologue’s clever book, “L’Art Chinois,” the statement “that China never had but one single style of architecture, throughout all the periods of its history, for her public and private, civic, or ecclesiastical buildings.”

Now, a close observer will notice in our buildings a great variety of styles, the fineness of which naturally is lost upon those who do not take the trouble to examine them carefully. It is just like a passer-by looking at some of the new streets in Paris, where all the houses are built by one and the same building company, and resemble one another externally; or at the grand avenues in New York City, or the long strassen in Karlsruhe, spread out round a central square in the shape of a fan. At first sight one cannot help the exclamation that these buildings produce a desperately monotonous impression.

But should you pay the architect a visit and examine the plans of these various constructions, you cannot fail to notice that not one interior resembles another. The difference is as slight as the physiognomies of different people, who have the same features but have different faces.

It is true that long ago there was little variety in our architectural styles, but in spite of that it can be asserted that each of our cities has a special character, and presents, as far as its buildings are concerned, distinctive features.

There are many reasons for this want of variety. In the first place, those foreign elements, which so often so profoundly modified European architecture, have been almost completely wanting in China. Then it must be remembered that official prescriptions regulate the style of houses for different functionaries, a custom which must necessarily limit architectural originality and fancy; and then there is tradition, which is so powerful in our country, and which did not allow of any modification of the pure Chinese style, which had been consecrated by the use of centuries.

Let us now examine the different kinds of Chinese houses.

In the northern districts, less favoured by Nature, buildings are generally constructed of earth. It is only the palaces and the houses of rich people of which the framework is of wood. In spite of the severity of the climate and the quantities of dust which are brought by the wind from the sandy regions, these houses have, generally speaking, two stories, in which they differ considerably from the houses in the south, which have rarely more than one. The walls are low, with but a very slight curve at the top, whereas in the south this curve, which we style “the saddle,” is very pronounced. These walls are called “fire-walls,” because they are intended to protect the house against fire.

The upper storey is called “the pavilion of the horse races,” a name I have never been able to account for, as the staircases were never such as to allow of horses being brought up them. This upper storey is generally used as a place of pleasure, the ground floor being preferred as an ordinary dwelling-place. The Chinese love symmetry in all things, and so, no matter the size of the ground on which they build, their houses are always constructed so that the drawing-room is just opposite the entrance door, and that on either side of it there be one or two rooms exactly the same. Instead of speaking of our houses as having so many rooms, we say, “It has such a number of rooms on the front—three, five, seven,” &c.

The following is a description of a good average middle-class dwelling:

On entering you find yourself in a large antechamber, flanked on the right and on the left by a servants’ room. Facing you are three doors, one large and two small, giving access to a courtyard, which is entered by descending a staircase of three steps. On either side of the courtyard there is first a paved gallery, then a room. One of these rooms is reserved for the children of the house, the other is a smoking-room, or small drawing-room.

The drawing-room is reached by ascending the three steps on the other side of the yard. On its left and right hand side there are one, two, or three rooms. Behind the drawing-room is the dining-room, flanked also on either side with one, two, or three rooms. Then comes a second courtyard, with the kitchen and lumber-room on the right and left. If the house is a large one, you will find three, five, or seven more rooms behind this courtyard. The same distribution may be repeated over and over again where the habitation is very vast. The garden, with its kiosques and its artificial rockeries, is on one of the wings, and is surrounded with walls.

The rent of an ordinary house, such as the one that I have just described, is about two pounds eight shillings a year.

The roof is more or less elevated, but it always is very sloping, and is covered with overlapping tiles, so as to allow the rain to run off easily.

The windows are large, the framework being of wood. The panes are of glass, silk, or transparent paper, according to the part of the country. Instead of endeavouring to protect themselves against draughts, the Chinese do all they can to procure currents of air through the house.

The interior decoration is generally very luxurious. The prominent parts of the wood-work are carved, the flat parts are varnished. The walls are hidden behind paintings representing historical scenes; the wall which fronts the drawing-room is usually painted with a subject referring to the rank of the master of the house. On entering the drawing-room the eye is at once caught by the sight of a gilt and carved box, which hangs from the horizontal rafter under the roof. On either side of it is a large gilt dragon, who seems to be guarding it. This box contains the patents of nobility or commissions of official rank held by the proprietor.

The paper on which the words “Happiness” or “Long Life,” which are given to members of the family by the Emperor according to their merits, are also hung up in this place.

The furniture of the drawing-room is extremely simple. There is a long, large table in the middle, with eight chairs arranged on the two sides; between each set of two chairs is a little square tea-table. Then there are two square stools.

The places of visitors are arranged according to their rank; the stools are always reserved for the master of the house. When the visit is a ceremonious one, or there is a fÊte in the family, the chairs, which are usually of marble or of bamboo, are covered with embroidered red satin covers, which is just the contrary of what is done in Europe, where the furniture is uncovered for receiving. There are always a large mirror, a vase of flowers, a plate of decorative fruits, and a clock on the drawing-room table. In the centre stands a scent-burner.

On the walls are rolls of autographs or paintings from the pens and pencils of celebrities of style or of art. Very few nick-nacks are to be seen in our drawing-rooms, which we make as severe and simple as we can. Only occasionally does one see a few nick-nacks in the little drawing-rooms, or in the pleasure kiosk in the garden. The greater part are hidden away in cupboards, and are only produced at the FÊte of the Moon, of which I speak further on, or on certain religious festivals.

We have neither cupboards in the walls, such as are the delight of Parisian housewives, nor alcoves in our houses in China.

This is a fair description of a Chinese home. I do not speak of the dwelling-places of the poor, which are as sad as little decorative. Happiness, it has been said, has no history, but it is wealth that alone admits of description. Misery is not to be depicted, unless, as in Theophile Gautier’s “Capitaine Fracasse,” it is lodged in an old castle, picturesquely in ruins.