There are few objects connected with our art that have been more frequently dwelt on by those who have undertaken to be our guides and monitors than the right proportions to be given to rooms. Vitruvius led the way, and subsequent theorizers have laid down, sometimes very dogmatically, their views of just proportions. I find, however, in the actual practice of the ablest men such extreme diversity, and I observe pleasing effects producible by the adoption of such widely different proportions, that I find myself, I confess, much inclined to be somewhat incredulous of all these theories. Certainly if beauty could be thus reduced to a formula, and the proper relation indisputably established between the length, breadth, and height of every room, a royal road would be cleared for us, which would be at least very convenient both to those who teach and to those who learn. I fear I can scarcely hope to furnish you with such a desirable help in your studies. I find rooms of universally admitted beauty, yet of almost every geometrical figure. I have heard of the room in the museum of Florence, the Tribune it is called, which contains the Venus di Medici, spoken of in terms of rapturous approval for the beauty of its form and proportions. This saloon is an equilateral octagon on plan. I have known square rooms greatly admired—such, for example, as the saloon in Cobham Hall, which is usually pointed to as one of the chefs‐d’œuvre of Inigo Jones. Who is there that is not charmed with the proportions of the Pantheon at Rome? This, you know, is circular. The classical teacher of our art, Vitruvius, seems to contemplate only rectangular forms, and directs us to adapt the double cube and the cube and a half, whether for a temple or a triclinium.
The Sistine Chapel, attached to the Papal Palace, upon which the best art of Italy in its best days was expended, is a triple cube, viz., 133 by 44. While of modern French, Italian, and English teachers, each seems to have his own special favorite proportion. The truth I believe to be that, so bounteously have we been endowed, and so liberally have the laws of beauty in form and proportion been framed, there exists in fact an endless variety of beautiful forms and proportions. My impression is that it is as little consistent with truth to lay down any one definite form or proportion as the best as it is to extol any one particular curve as the line of beauty. I believe that there are as many pleasing proportions to be given to rooms as there are pleasing harmonies of color and sound. The purpose of a room must always be an important guide in determining the form and proportions to be given to it. If planned so long in proportion to its width as to remind us of a passage, it loses its distinctive character, and creates a false impression, which it can never be good art to do. It is indeed obvious that a consideration of the special fitness of a room for its destined uses must always greatly influence its proportions. The octagon form, so much affected by our ancestors in planning their chapter houses, owes its origin probably far more to the propriety of that form for a chamber intended for the convenient assemblage of the members of the chapter sitting in council than to any intrinsic architectural beauty, however unquestionable that beauty may be.—S. Smirke.
The Firemen’s Herald says fire protection, like charity, should begin at home. However efficient may be the public service against fire, a single bucket of water properly administered may stop a fire that all the efforts of the brigade would be unable to quench, and besides, the jet of a powerful engine is as destructive in its way as fire to all perishable articles within a room, such as furniture, pictures, and bric‐a‐brac.
Plants for Room Decoration.
The universal custom now prevailing in most establishments of having a few plants in addition to cut flowers dotted about the different rooms induces me to write a short paper thereon, not only because it has developed into a very important part of the gardener’s work, but it likewise requires a fair share of taste in the arrangements, as well as suitable plants for the purpose. Generally speaking, each room being differently furnished will require a different class of plants for its adornment, but, as a rule, plants with stiff, upright growth are objectionable to the eye, as they do not hide the pot or stems unless others of a dwarfer growth are associated with them; therefore they should only be used when possessing special features either in flower or foliage. Too many plants in a room are objectionable, because they detract from rather than elevate or enhance the effect, especially if the room is elaborately furnished. For instance, plants assigned to the front hall or corridor would be unsuitable in a drawing room or boudoir.
Another important matter to study is the various kinds of receptacles provided for the use of plants. These vary in size and shape greatly, but are generally of a fanciful, elaborate, and artistic design, and the plants for these should be selected with the greatest care and taste, so as to add a completeness and finish, and in no way hide or diminish the effect of their appearance. I have often found, however, a great difficulty in getting plants to go in them without taking them out of the pots, and in many cases I have found it necessary to reduce the ball of roots in order to fit the latter in properly. This quite ruins the plant, for, in the case of choice or delicate growing subjects, it is almost impossible for them to recover. But in order to meet this difficulty, it is advisable to make a selection of plants, grow them in suitable sized pots, and use them for no other purpose. To do this it requires a sufficient number for three changes; say, if twenty plants are required at one time, sixty should be grown, and duplicates of all to be grown to follow on.
The atmosphere of rooms is generally dry, though warm, and impregnated with gas and other enemies to plant life. So different is all this to the healthy atmosphere of a plant house, that it is necessary that every plant used should have completed its growth, or some injury will follow. Take the different varieties of adiantums, for instance. If used for the decoration of rooms in a growing state, the young fronds would most certainly be injured; yet, when properly prepared, there are no more popular or suitable plants for the purpose, and they can be grown to a useful size in small pots. Nephrolepis exaltata, though not so choice as others, is a most handsome fern to use. Its long and gracefully drooping fronds are an ornament in any position, while many of the Pteris family have a fine and graceful appearance, and may be used freely. Nice plants of Spiræa japonica with or without flowers are very ornamental. The different sorts of lycopods make perfect plants for small vases, as also do the artillery plant (Pilea muscosa) and the little Caladium argyrites. In fact, there is no lack of either foliage or flowering plants suitable for a tasteful arrangement either in a drawing room or boudoir, while for more commodious places, such as the entrance hall, corridor, or staircase, and where larger plants are admissible, there is the beautiful Caladium esculentum, with noble foliage and which stands well, several sorts of palms, the larger fronded ferns, curculigo, Ficus elastica, Hibbertia volubilis, and the calla or Ethiopian lily, all of which have a reputation for retaining their beauty better than many others, and therefore should be grown for the purpose. But to avoid as little injury as possible, frequent changes are necessary, and it is a very good rule to water every plant well before it is used, and when it again needs water change it for another. Let all pots and plants be kept very clean, and avoid letting the plants remain long enough to make growth in the different positions, for such growth, when brought out to the light, is generally very weak.—Thomas Record, The Garden.