JESTUETIC ANALYSIS OF AN OBELISK. 



157 



and painstaking human endeavor. In a High- 

 land glen we look for unmixed Nature — purple 

 heather, brown and naked roek, brawling stream, 

 rugged hill-side, and lonely fir-trees beaten and 

 distorted by the wind. But, in a graceful Eng- 

 lish scene like this, we are gratified by the tri- 

 umph of man's art — level lawns, green or golden 

 cornfields, lofty steeples, smooth parks shaded 

 with majestic and evenly-grown oaks. So, in the 

 first case, we are displeased by any obtrusion of 

 would-be artistic handicraft, such as the eigh- 

 teenth century officiously foisted upon the scenery 

 it admired ; while in the second case we find in 

 these purely ornamental structures the final touch 

 which finishes off an artificial landscape. In 

 such circumstances the obelisk is a symbol of 

 loving care, giving to the complex picture the 

 one element which it lacks. 



Whatever may have been the original pur- 

 pose of the obelisk — and we can hardly doubt 

 that it had once a religious signification — its 

 modern use is the one thus indicated, as a mark 

 or salient point to fix the eye upon a critical site, 

 either in a close area or an extended prospect. 

 When we employ it to decorate a town, we place 

 it in some open and conspicuous situation, either 

 in the centre of a square, or where roads diverge, 

 or at the apex of a triangular green, or at the 

 point of bisection in one side of a bilaterally 

 symmetrical oblong. When we use it for rural 

 decoration, we perch it on the summit of a 

 rounded and sloping hill. It does not look well 

 on an elevation which already possesses a natu- 

 ral peak or well-marked crest ; but it serves 

 admirably to fasten the eye on the otherwise 

 doubtful crown of a long and sweeping ridge. 

 Again, such a pillar wquld be absurd half-way 

 up a hill, where it would hardly come out against 

 the neighboring background of green; but it 

 stands up with a pleasing boldness against the 

 cold gray and somewhat monotonous sky-line 

 of an English down. In short, an obelisk, 

 viewed apart from its own individuality, and with 

 reference to the whole scene in which it fills a 

 place, is essentially a mark to call attention to 

 the site on which it stands. Of course, a column 

 often serves the same purpose ; but, then, a col- 

 umn serves it badly, and an obelisk serves it 

 well. It is just because it does so that it has 

 survived to the present day. 



If we look at a few such individual cases we 

 shall find yet other elements in the complex feel- 

 ing of beauty and fitness. There is the Luxor 

 Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. Here we have 

 all the usual points which belong to the form as 



such, to the massive and monolithic character, 

 to the high polish and sombre coloring, to the 

 quaint and suggestive hieroglyphics with which 

 it is deeply scored ; and we have also the addi- 

 tional points given by its central and symmetri- 

 cal position in a noble square, marking, as it 

 were, a node in the long vista which reaches to 

 the Louvre on the one side and the Arc de Tri- 

 omphe on the other; but. over and above all 

 these factors in our complex emotional state, 

 there is a strange sense of irony in the colloca- 

 tion of that mute memorial of a solid and patient 

 primeval race beside the gilded dome of the In- 

 valides, the brand-new architectural elegancies of 

 the Haussmann order, and the frivolous modern 

 throng which pours ceaselessly past it up the 

 Champs Elysees. I have seen that relic of the 

 Pharaohs illuminated with gas-jets and colored 

 lanterns in honor of the Fete Napoleon. And yet 

 few will be disposed to deny that there is, by 

 reason of this very contrast, a sort of odd fitness 

 in the present position of the Luxor Obelisk. 



Now, let us turn to a very different instance, 

 the Speke memorial in Kensington Gardens. 

 Here we have to deal with a perfectly modern 

 specimen, lacking all the historical interest of the 

 Colonne de Luxor. But we have still the grace- 

 ful form, the hard and solid material, the glis- 

 tening surface, the suggestion of antique work- 

 manship. And here the obelisk stands at the 

 end of a green vista ; it is approached by a close- 

 cut sward, and it forms a pleasant termination to 

 a pretty, if strictly artificial, scene. Moreover, 

 there is a solemn appropriateness in the choice 

 of an old Egyptian form for the commemoration 

 of a fearless and ill-fated Nile explorer ; while 

 the brevity and simplicity of the legend — the 

 single word " Speke " engraved on its base — is 

 in admirable keeping with the general character- 

 istics of the obelisk. On the whole, it is proba- 

 bly the best-chosen and best-situated monument 

 in London. 



Another similar structure with which many 

 of us are familiar may supply a passing illustra- 

 tion. It is a column this time, not an obelisk, 

 but it will serve equally well to point the moral 

 in hand. On the heights which bound the val- 

 ley of the Niagara and overlook the sleepy waters 

 of Lake Ontario stands a Corinthian column, sur- 

 mounted by a statue, and known as Brock's monu- 

 ment. As one passes down the river, leaving 

 behind the great cataract itself, and the pine-clad 

 ravine through which the wdiirlpool rapids surge 

 with ceaseless foam, a turn of the stream brings 

 one suddenly in view of a level reach which forms 



