Sun-dial at Hillside, Menand's, near Albany, New York.
On a lawn or in any suitable spot the dial-face can be mounted on a boulder; one is here shown. I prefer a pedestal. For gardens of limited size, much simplicity of design is more pleasing and more fitting than any elaborate carving. In an Italian garden, or in any formal garden whose work in stone or marble is costly and artistic, the sun-dial pedestal should be the climax in richness of carving of all the garden furnishing. I like the pedestal set on a little platform, so two or three steps may be taken up to it from the garden level; but after all, no rules can be given for the dial's setting. It may be planted with vines, or stand unornamented; it may be set low, and be looked down upon, or it may be raised high up on a side wall; but wherever it is, it must not be for a single minute in shadow; no trees or overhanging shrubs should be near it; it is a child of the sun, and lives only in the sun's full rays.
Old Brass and Pewter Dial-faces.
In the lovely old garden at the home of Frederick J. Kingsbury, Esq., at Waterbury, Conn., is a sun-dial bearing the motto, "Horas non numero nisi serenas," and the dates 1739-1751,—the dates of the building of the old and new houses on land that has been in the immediate family since 1739. Around this dial is a crescent-shaped bed of Zinnias, and very satisfactory do they prove. This garden has fine Box edgings; one is shown on [page 173], a Box walk, set in 1851 with ancient Box brought from the garden of Mr. Kingsbury's great-great-grandfather.
The gnomon of a sun-dial is usually a simple plate of metal in the general shape of a right-angled triangle, cut often in some pierced design, and occasionally inscribed with a motto, name, or date. Sometimes the dial-maker placed on the gnomon various Masonic symbols—the compass, square, and triangle, or the coat of arms of the dial owner.
One old English dial fitting we have never copied in America. It was the taste of the days of the Stuart kings, days of constant jesting and amusement and practical jokes. Concealed water jets were placed which wet the clothing of the unwary one who lingered to consult the dial-face.
The significance of the sun-dial, as well as its classicism, was sure to be felt by artists. In the paintings of Holbein, of Albert Dürer, dials may be seen, not idly painted, but with symbolic meaning. The mystic import of a sun-dial is shown in full effect in that perfect picture, Beata Beatrix, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. I have chosen to show here ([facing page 380]) the Beata Beatrix owned by Charles L. Hutchinson, Esq., of Chicago, as being less photographed and known than the one of the British Gallery, from which it varies slightly and also because it has the beautiful predella. In this picture, in the words of its poet-painter:—