Fig. 196.—Doorway in Mansfield Street, London.

Fig. 197.—Entrance and Porch at 20 Portman Square, London.

Fig. 198.—WINDOW AT SUTTON COURT.

He can hardly be said to have made a permanent mark in his large architectural conceptions. With the help of his brothers he rebuilt a whole district of London which was called after them, “the Adelphi.”[79] The long terrace on an arcaded basement was much admired, and it has been claimed for him that he planted by the side of the Thames a worthy version of the splendours of Spalato, but the building (Fig. [195]) hardly bears out this contention. It is Spalato much diluted. The lesson to be learnt from this as from most of the architecture of that period is that no reproduction of ancient glories, whether direct or modified, can be of abiding interest. Architecture to be interesting must meet certain definite wants, must reflect the needs of the hour and of the individual, and as these must of necessity be ever changing, so must architectural expression. Each work of every architect presents a fresh problem which ought to be solved in its own way.

It is in particular features, such as doorways, windows, balustrades, and panels, that Adam’s gift of design shows to the best advantage. A doorway in Mansfield Street (Fig. [196]), with its large fanlight, is characteristic of one treatment; the projecting porch from Portman Square (Fig. [197]) is equally so of another. The window from Sutton Court (Fig. [198]) would be a prosaic affair, but for the fanlight and the detail imparted to the surrounding woodwork. It should be noticed that, in keeping with his delicate mouldings, the sash-bars are thin, in complete contrast to the more vigorous handling of his predecessors.

The delicacy of his detail was more appropriate to the inside of a house than to the outside, and nothing pleased him better than to design the whole decoration of a room—doors, chimney-piece, ceiling, plaster wall panels, lockplates and door handles, grate, and the whole of the furniture. Pretty, graceful, and refined, but rarely virile, his work appeals to the less tumultuous emotions; indeed he made his mark not so much by his architecture as by his decoration, which exhibits extraordinary fecundity and fertility of design.

Fig. 199.—Vicarage at Puddletown, Dorset.