SUN-DIALS
"'Tis an old dial, dark with many a stain,
In summer crowned with drifting orchard bloom,
Tricked in the autumn with the yellow rain,
And white in winter like a marble tomb.
"And round about its gray, time-eaten brow
Lean letters speak--a worn and shattered row:--
'I am a Shade; A Shadowe too arte thou;
I mark the Time; saye, Gossip, dost thou soe?'"
--AUSTIN DOBSON.
A century or more ago, in the heart of nearly all English gardens, and
in the gardens of our American colonies as well, there might be seen a
pedestal of varying material, shape, and pretension, surmounted by the
most interesting furnishing in "dead-works" of the garden, a sun-dial.
In public squares, on the walls of public buildings, on bridges, and by
the side of the way, other and simpler dials were found. On the walls of
country houses and churches vertical sun-dials were displayed; every
English town held them by scores. In Scotland, and to some extent in
England, these sun-dials still are found; in fine old gardens the most
richly carved dials are standing; but in America they have become so
rare that many people have never seen one. In many of the formal gardens
planned by our skilled architects, sun-dials are now springing afresh
like mushroom growth of a single night, and some are objects of the
greatest beauty and interest.
[Illustration: Two Old Cronies, the Sun-dial and Bee Skepe.]
If the claims of antiquity and historical association have aught to
charm us, every sun-dial must be assured of our interest. The most
primitive mode of knowing of the midday hour was by a "noon mark," a
groove cut or line drawn on door or window sill which indicated the
meridian hour through a shadow thrown on this noon mark. A good guess as
to the hours near noon could be made by noting the distance of the
shadow from the noon mark. I chanced to be near an old noon mark this
summer as the sun warned that noon approached; I noted that the marking
shadow crossed the line at twenty minutes before noon by our
watches--which, I suppose, was near enough to satisfy our "early to
rise" ancestors. Meridian lines were often traced with exactness on the
floors of churches in Continental Europe.
An advance step in accuracy and elegance was made when a simple metal
sun-dial was affixed to the window sill instead of cutting the rude noon
mark. Soon the sun-dial was set on a simple pedestal near the kitchen
window, so that the active worker within might glance at the dial face
without ceasing in her task. Such a sun-dial is shown on page 354, as it
stands under the "buttery" window cosily hobnobbing with its old crony
of many years, the bee skepe. One could wish to be a bee, and live in
that snug home under the Syringa bush.
Portable sun-dials succeeded fixed dials; they have been known as long
as the Christian era; shepherds' dials were the "Kalendars" or
"Cylindres" about which treatises were written as early as the
thirteenth century. They were small cylinders of wood or ivory, having
at the top a kind of stopper with a hinged gnomon; they are still used
in the Pyrenees. Pretty little "ring-dials" of brass, gold, or silver,
are constructed on the same principle. The exquisitely wrought portable
dial shown on this page is a very fine piece of workmanship, and must
have been costly. It is dated 1764, and is eleven inches in diameter. It
is a perfect example of the advanced type of dial made in Italy, which
had a simpler form as early certainly as A.D. 300. The compass was added
in the thirteenth century. The compass-needle is missing on this dial,
its only blemish. The Italians excelled in dial-making; among their
interesting forms were the cross-shaped dials evidently a reliquary.
[Illustration: Portable Sun-dial.]
Portable dials were used instead of watches. There is at the Washington
headquarters at Morristown a delicately wrought oval silver case, with
compass and sun-dial, which was carried by one of the French officers
who came here with Lafayette; George Washington owned and carried one.
The colonists came here from a land set with dials, whether they sailed
from Holland or England. Charles I had a vast fancy for dials, and had
them placed everywhere; the finest and most curious was the splendid
master dial placed in his private gardens at Whitehall; this had five
dials set in the upper part, four in the four corners, and a great
horizontal concave dial; among these were scattered equinoctial dials,
vertical dials, declining dials, polar dials, plane dials, cylindrical
dials, triangular dials; each was inscribed with explanatory verses in
Latin. Equally beautiful and intricate were the dials of Charles II, the
most marvellous being the vast pyramid dial bearing 271 different dial
faces.
Those who wish to learn of English sun-dials should read Mrs. Gatty's
_Book of Sun-dials_, a massive and fascinating volume. No such extended
record could be made of American sun-dials; but it pleases me that I
know of over two hundred sun-dials in America, chiefly old ones; that I
have photographs of many of them; that I have copies of many hundred
dial mottoes, and also a very fair collection of the old dial faces, of
various metals and sizes.
I know of no public collection of sun-dials in America save that in the
Smithsonian Institution, and that is not a large one. Several of our
Historical Societies own single sun-dials. In the Essex Institute is the
sun-dial of Governor Endicott; another, shown on page 344, was once the
property of my far-away grandfather, Jonathan Fairbanks; it is in the
Dedham Historical Society.
[Illustration: Sun-dial in Garden of Frederick J. Kingsbury, Esq.]
All forms of sun-dials are interesting. A simple but accurate one was
set on Robins Island by the late Samuel Bowne Duryea, Esq., of Brooklyn.
Taking the flagpole of the club house as a stylus, he laid the lines and
figures of the dial-face with small dark stones on a ground of
light-hued stones, all set firmly in the earth at the base of the pole.
Thus was formed, with the simplest materials, by one who ever strove to
give pleasure and stimulate knowledge in all around him, an object which
not only told the time o' the day, but afforded gratification, elicited
investigation, and awakened sentiment in all who beheld it.
A similar use of a vertical pole as a primitive gnomon for a sun-dial
seems to have been common to many uncivilized peoples. In upper Egypt
the natives set up a palm rod in open ground, and arrange a circle of
stones or pegs around it, calling it an _alka_, and thus mark the hours.
The ploughman leaves his buffalo standing in the furrow while he learns
the progress of time from this simple dial--and we recall the words of
Job, "As a servant earnestly desireth a shadow."
[Illustration: Sun-dial at Morristown, New Jersey.]
The Labrador Indians, when on the hunt or the march, set an upright
stick or spear in the snow, and draw the line of the shadow thus cast.
They then stalk on their way; and the women, heavily laden with
provisions, shelter, and fuel, come slowly along two or three hours
later, note the distance between the present shadow and the line drawn
by their lords, and know at once whether they must gather up the stick
or spear and hurry along, or can rest for a short time on their weary
march. This is a primitive but exact chronometer.
There are serious objections to quoting from Charles Lamb: you are never
willing to end the transcription--you long to add just one phrase, one
clause more. Then, too, the purity of the pearl which you choose seems
to render duller than their wont the leaden sentences with which you
enclose it as a setting. Still, who could write of sun-dials without
choosing to transcribe these words of Lamb's?
"What a dead thing is a clock, with its ponderous embowelments of
lead or brass, its pert or solemn dulness of communication,
compared with the simple altar-like structure and silent
heart-language of the old dial! It stood as the garden god of
Christian gardens. Why is it almost everywhere banished? If its
business use be suspended by more elaborate inventions, its moral
uses, its beauty, might have pleaded for its continuance. It spoke
of moderate labors, of pleasures not protracted after sunset, of
temperance and good hours. It was the primitive clock, the horologe
of the first world. Adam could scarce have missed it in Paradise.
The 'shepherd carved it out quaintly in the sun,' and turning
philosopher by the very occupation, provided it with mottoes more
touching than tombstones."
[Illustration: Yes, Toby! It's Three O'clock.]
Sun-dial mottoes still can be gathered by hundreds; and they are one
record of a force in the development of our literate people. For it was
long after we had printing ere we had any general class of folk, who, if
they could read, read anything save the Bible. To many the knowledge of
reading came from the deciphering of what has been happily termed the
Literature of the Bookless. This literature was placed that he who ran
might read; and its opening chapters were in the form of inscriptions
and legends and mottoes which were placed, not only on buildings and
walls, and pillars and bridges, but on household furniture and table
utensils.
The inscribing of mottoes on sun-dials appears to have sprung up with
dial-making; and where could a strict moral lesson, a suggestive or
inspiring thought, be better placed? Even the most heedless or
indifferent passer-by, or the unwilling reader could not fail to see the
instructive words when he cast his glance to learn the time.
The mottoes were frequently in Latin, a few in Greek or Hebrew; but the
old English mottoes seem the most appealing.
ABUSE ME NOT I DO NO ILL
I STAND TO SERVE THEE WITH GOOD WILL
AS CAREFUL THEN BE SURE THOU BE
TO SERVE THY GOD AS I SERVE THEE.
A CLOCK THE TIME MAY WRONGLY TELL
I NEVER IF THE SUN SHINE WELL.
AS A SHADOW SUCH IS LIFE.
I COUNT NONE BUT SUNNY HOURS.
BE THE DAY WEARY, BE THE DAY LONG
SOON IT SHALL RING TO EVEN SONG.
Scriptural verses have ever been favorites, especially passages from the
Psalms: "Man is like a thing of nought, his time passeth away like a
shadow." "My time is in Thy hand." "Put not off from day to day." "Oh,
remember how short my time is." Some of the Latin mottoes are very
beautiful.
[Illustration: Face of Dial at Sag Harbor, Long Island.]
Poets have written special verses for sun-dials. These noble lines are
by Walter Savage Landor:--
IN HIS OWN IMAGE THE CREATOR MADE,
HIS OWN PURE SUNBEAM QUICKENED THEE, O MAN!
THOU BREATHING DIAL! SINCE THE DAY BEGAN
THE PRESENT HOUR WAS EVER MARKED WITH SHADE.
The motto, _Horas non numero nisi serenas_, in various forms and
languages, has ever been a favorite. From an old album I have received
this poem written by Professor S. F. B. Morse; there is a note with it
in Professor Morse's handwriting, saying he saw the motto on a sun-dial
at Worms:--
TO A. G. E.
_Horas non numero nisi serenas._
The sun when it shines in a clear cloudless sky
Marks the time on my disk in figures of light;
If clouds gather o'er me, unheeded they fly,
I note not the hours except they be bright.
So when I review all the scenes that have past
Between me and thee, be they dark, be they light,
I forget what was dark, the light I hold fast;
I note not the hours except they be bright.
SAMUEL F. B. MORSE,
Washington, March, 1845.
The sun-dial seems too classic an object, and too serious a teacher, to
bear a jesting motto. This sober pun was often seen:--
LIFE'S BUT A SHADOWE
MAN'S BUT DUST
THIS DYALL SAYES
DY ALL WE MUST.
[Illustration: Sun-dial in Garden of Grace Church Rectory, New York.]
The sun-dial does not lure to "idle dalliance." Nine-tenths of the
sun-dial mottoes tersely warn you not to linger, to haste away, that
time is fleeting, and your hours are numbered, and therefore to "be
about your business." In a single moment and at a single glance the
sun-dial has said its lesson, has told its absolute message, and there
is no reason for you to gaze at it longer. Its very position, too, in
the unshaded rays of the sun, does not invite you to long companionship,
as do the shady lengths of a pergola, or a green orchard seat. Still, I
would ever have a garden seat near a sun-dial, especially when it is a
work of art to be studied, and with mottoes to be remembered. For even
in hurrying America the sun-dial seems--like a guide-post--a half-human
thing, for which we can feel an almost personal interest.
[Illustration: Fugio Bank-note.]
The figure of a sun-dial played an interesting part in the early history
of the United States. In the first set of notes issued for currency by
the American Congress was one for the value of one third of a dollar.
One side has the chain of links bearing the names of the thirteen
states, enclosing a sunburst bearing the words, _American Congress, We
are One_. The reverse side is shown on this page. It bears a print of a
sun-dial, with the motto, _Fugio, Mind Your Business_. The so-called
"Franklin cent" has a similar design of a sun-dial with the same motto,
and there was a beautiful "Fugio dollar" cast in silver, bronze, and
pewter. Though this design and motto were evidently Franklin's taste,
the motto in its use on a sun-dial was not original with Franklin, nor
with any one else in the Congress, for it had been seen on dials on many
English churches and houses. In the form, "Begone about Your Business,"
it was on a house in the Inner Temple; this is the tradition of the
origin of this motto. The dialler sent for a motto to place under the
dial, as he had been instructed by the Benchers; when the man arrived at
the Library, he found but one surly old gentleman poring over a musty
book. To him he said, "Please, sir, the gentlemen told me to call this
hour for a motto for the sun-dial." "Begone about your business," was
the testy answer. So the man painted the words under the dial; and the
chance words seemed so appropriate to the Benchers that they were never
removed. It is told of Dean Cotton of Bangor that he had a cross old
gardener who always warded off unwelcome visitors to the deanery by
saying to every one who approached, "Go about your business!" After the
gardener's death the dean had this motto engraved around the sun-dial in
the garden, "Goa bou tyo urb us in ess, 1838." Thus the gardener's growl
became his epitaph. Another form was, "Be about Your Business," and it
is a suggestive fact that it was on a dial on the General Post-office in
London in 1756. Franklin's interest in and knowledge of postal matters,
his long residence in London, and service under the crown as American
postmaster general, must have familiarized him with this dial, and I am
convinced it furnished to him the notion for the design on the first
bank-note and coins of the new nation.
An interesting bit of history allied to America is given to us in the
finding of a sun-dial which gives to American students of heraldic
antiquities another dated shield of the Washington "stars and stripes."
[Illustration: Sun-dial at "Washington House," Little Brington,
England.]
In Little Brington, Northamptonshire, stands a house known as "The
Washington House," which gave shelter to the Washingtons of Sulgrave
after the fall of their fortunes. Within a stone's throw of the house
has recently been found a sun-dial having the Washington arms (argent)
two bars, and in chief three mullets (gules) carved upon it, with the
date 1617. The existence of this stone has been known for forty years;
but it has never been closely examined and noted till recently. It is a
circular slab of sandstone three inches thick and sixteen inches in
diameter. The gnomon is lacking. The lines, figures, and shield are
incised, and the letters R. W. can be dimly seen. These were probably
the initials of Robert Washington, great uncle of the two emigrants to
Virginia.
[Illustration: Dial-face from Mount Vernon.]
Through the kindness of Mr. A. L. Y. Morley, a faithful antiquary of
Great Barrington, I have the pleasure of giving, on page 367, a
representation of this interesting dial. It is shown leaning against
the "pump-stand" in the yard of the "Washington House"; and the pump
seems as ancient as the dial.
[Illustration: Sun-dial of Mary Washington, Fredericksburg, Virginia.]
In this book are three other sun-dials associated with George
Washington. At Mount Vernon there stands at the front of the entrance
door a modern sun-dial. The fine old metal dial-face, about ten inches
in diameter, which in Washington's day was placed on the same site, is
now the property of Mr. William F. Havemeyer, Jr., of New York. It was
given to him by Mr. Custis; a picture of it is shown on page 368. This
dial-face is a splendid relic; one closely associated with Washington's
everyday life, and full of suggestion and sentiment to every thoughtful
beholder. The sun-dial which stood in the old Fredericksburg garden of
Mary Washington, the mother of George Washington, still stands in
Fredericksburg, in the grounds of Mr. Doswell. A photograph of it is
reproduced on page 369. The fourth historic dial is on page 371. It is
the one at Kenmore, the home built by Fielding Lewis for his bride,
Betty Washington, the sister of George Washington, on ground adjoining
her mother's home. A part of the garden which connected these two
Washington homes is shown on page 228. These three American sun-dials
afford an interesting proof of the universal presence of sun-dials in
Virginian homes of wealth, and they also show the kind of dial-face
which was generally used. Another ancient dial (page 350) at Travellers'
Rest, a near-by Virginian country seat, is similar in shape to these
three, and differs but little in mounting.
In Pennsylvania and Virginia sun-dials have lingered in use in front of
court-houses, on churches, and in a few old garden dials. In New England
I scarcely know an old garden dial still standing in its original place
on its original pedestal. Four old ones of brass or pewter are shown in
the illustration on page 379. These once stood in New England gardens or
on the window sills of old houses; one was taken from a sunny window
ledge to give to me.
Perhaps the attention paid the doings of the American Philosophical
Society, and the number of scientists living near Philadelphia, may
account for the many sun-dials set up in the vicinity of the town.
Godfrey, the maker of Godfrey's Quadrant, was one of those scientific
investigators, and must have been a famous "dialler."
[Illustration: Kenmore, the Home of Betty Washington Lewis.]
On page 373 is shown an ancient sun-dial in the garden of Charles F.
Jenkins, Esq., in Germantown, Pennsylvania. This sun-dial originally
belonged to Nathan Spencer, who lived in Germantown prior to and during
the Revolutionary War. Hepzibah Spencer, his daughter, married, and took
the sun-dial to Byberry. Her daughter carried the sun-dial to Gwynedd
when her name was changed to Jenkins; and their grandson, the present
owner, rescued it from the chicken house with the gnomon missing, which
was afterward found. Its inscription, "Time waits for No Man," is an old
punning device on the word gnomon.
At one time dialling was taught by many a country schoolmaster, and
excellent and accurate sun-dials were made and set up by country
workmen, usually masons of slight education. In Scotland the making of
sun-dials has never died out. In America many pewter sun-dials were cast
in moulds of steatite or other material. A few dial-makers still remain;
one in lower New York makes very interesting-looking sun-dials of brass,
which, properly discolored and stained, find a ready sale in uptown
shops. I doubt if these are ever made for any special geographical
point, but there is in a small Pennsylvania town an old Quaker who makes
carefully calculated and accurate sun-dials, computed by logarithms for
special places. I should like to see him "sit like a shepherd carving
out dials, quaintly point by point." I have a very pretty circular brass
dial of his making, about eight inches in diameter. He writes me that
"the dial sent thee is a good students' dial, fit to set outside the
window for a young man to use and study by in college," which would
indicate to me that my Quaker dialler knows another type of collegian
from those of my acquaintance, who would find the time set by a sun-dial
rather slow.
[Illustration: Sun-dial in Garden of Charles F. Jenkins, Esq.,
Germantown, Pennsylvania.]
There have been those who truly loved sun-dials. Sir William Temple
ordered that after his death his heart should be buried under the
sun-dial in his garden--where his heart had been in life. 'Tis not
unusual to see a sun-dial over the gate to a burial ground, and a noble
emblem it is in that place; one at Mount Auburn Cemetery, near Boston,
bears a pleasing motto written originally by John G. Whittier for his
friend, Dr. Henry Ingersoll Bowditch, and inscribed on a beautiful
silver sun-dial now owned by Dr. Vincent Y. Bowditch of Boston,
Massachusetts. A facsimile of this dial was also placed before the Manor
House on the island of Naushon by Mr. John M. Forbes in memory of Dr.
Bowditch. The lines run thus:--
WITH WARNING HAND I MARK TIME'S RAPID FLIGHT
FROM LIFE'S GLAD MORNING TO ITS SOLEMN NIGHT.
YET, THROUGH THE DEAR GOD'S LOVE I ALSO SHOW
THERE'S LIGHT ABOVE ME, BY THE SHADE BELOW.
A sun-dial is to me, in many places, a far more inspiring memorial than
a monument or tablet. Let me give as an example the fine sun-dial,
designed by W. Gedney Beatty, Esq., and shown on page 359, which was
erected on the grounds of the Memorial Hospital at Morristown, New
Jersey, by the Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution, to
mark the spot where Washington partook of the Communion.
What dignified and appropriate church appointments sun-dials are. A
simple and impressive bronze vertical dial on the wall of the Dutch
Reformed Church on West End Avenue, New York, is shown on page 346. The
sun-dial standing before the rectory of Grace Church on Broadway, New
York, is on page 364.
[Illustration: Sun-dial at Ophir Farm, White Plains, New York,
Country-seat of Hon. Whitelaw Reid.]
There is ever much question as to a suitable pedestal for garden
sun-dials: it must not stand so high that the dial-face cannot be looked
down upon by grown persons; it must not be so light as to seem rickety,
nor so heavy as to be clumsy. A very good rule is to err on the side of
simplicity in sun-dials for ordinary gardens. What I regard as a very
satisfactory pedestal and mounting in every particular may be seen in
the illustration facing page 80, showing the sun-dial in the garden of
Charles E. Mather, Esq., at Avonwood Court, Haverford, Pennsylvania.
Sometimes the pillars of old balustrades, old fence posts, and even
parts of old tombs and monuments, have been used as pedestals for
sun-dials. How pleasantly Sylvana in her _Letters to an Unknown Friend_,
tells us and shows to us her cheerful sun-dial mounted on the four
corners of an old tombstone with this fine motto cut into the upper
step, _Lux et umbra vicissim sed semper amor_. I mean to search the
stone-cutters' waste heap this summer and see whether I cannot rob the
grave to mark the hours of my life. Charles Dickens had at Gadshill a
sun-dial set on one of the pillars of the balustrade of Old Rochester
Bridge. From Italy and Greece marble pillars have been sent from ancient
ruins to be set up as dial pedestals.
If possible, the pedestal as well as the dial-face of a handsome
sun-dial should have some significance through association, suggestion,
or history. At Ophir Farm, White Plains, New York, the country-seat of
Hon. Whitelaw Reid, may be seen a sun-dial full of exquisite
significance. It is shown on page 375. The signs of the Zodiac in finely
designed bronze are set on the symmetrical marble pedestal, and seem
wonderfully harmonious and appropriate. This sun-dial is a literal
exemplification of the words of Emerson:--
"A calendar
Exact to days, exact to hours,
Counted on the spacious dial
Yon broidered Zodiac girds."
The dial-face is upheld by a carefully modelled tortoise in bronze,
which is an equally suggestive emblem, connected with the tradition,
folk-lore, and religious beliefs of both primitive and cultured peoples;
it is specially full of meaning in this place. The whole sun-dial shows
much thought and aesthetic perception in the designer and owner, and
cannot fail to prove gratifying to all observers having either
sensibility or judgment.
Occasionally a very unusual and beautiful sun-dial standard may be seen,
like the one in the Rose garden at Yaddo, Saratoga, New York, a copy of
rarely beautiful Pompeian carvings. A representation of this is shown on
page 86. Copies of simpler antique carvings make excellent sun-dial
pedestals; a safe rule to follow is to have a reproduction made of some
well-proportioned English or Scotch pedestal. The latter are well suited
to small gardens. I have drawings of several Scotch sun-dials and
pedestals which would be charming in American gardens. In the gardens at
Hillside, by the side of the Shakespeare Border is a sun-dial (page 378)
which is an exact reproduction of the one in the garden at Abbotsford,
the home of Sir Walter Scott. This pedestal is suited to its
surroundings, is well proportioned; and has historic interest. It forms
an excellent example of Charles Lamb's "garden-altar."
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration: 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 Duerer, 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:--
"Love's Hour stands.
Its eyes invisible
Watch till the dial's thin brown shade
Be born--yea, till the journeying line be laid
Upon the point."
[Illustration: Beata Beatrix.]
Andrew Marvell wrote two centuries ago of the floral sun-dials which
were the height of the gardening mode of his day:--
"How well the skilful gardener drew
Of flowers and herbs this dial new.
When from above the milder sun
Does through a fragrant zodiac run;
And as it works the industrious bee
Computes its time as well as we!
How could such sweet and wholesome hours
Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers!"
These were sometimes set of diverse flowers, sometimes of Mallows. Two
of growing Box are described and displayed in the chapter on Box
edgings.
[Illustration: The Faithful Gardener.]
Linnaeus made a list of forty-six flowers which constituted what he
termed the Horologe or Watch of Flora, and he gave what he called their
exact hours of rising and setting. He divided them into three classes:
Meteoric, Tropical, and Equinoctial flowers. Among those which he named
are:--
===========================================================
| OPENING HOUR. | CLOSING HOUR.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Dandelion | 5-6 A.M. | 8-9 P.M.
Mouse-ear Hawkweed | 8 A.M. | 2 P.M.
Sow Thistle | 5 A.M. | 11-12 P.M.
Yellow Goat-beard | 3-5 A.M. | 9-10 (?)
White Water Lily | 7 A.M. | 7 P.M.
Day Lily | 5 A.M. | 7-8 P.M.
Convolvulus | 5-6 A.M. |
Mallow | 9-10 A.M. |
Pimpernel | 7-8 A.M. |
Portulaca | 9-10 A.M. |
Pink (_Dianthus prolifer_) | 8 A.M. | 1 P.M.
Succory | 4-5 A.M. |
Calendula | 7 A.M. | 3-4 P.M.
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Of course these hours would vary in this country. And I must say very
frankly that I think we should always be behind time if we trusted to
Flora's Horologe. This floral clock of Linnaeus was calculated for
Upsala, Sweden; De Candolle gave another for Paris, and one has been
arranged for our Eastern states.