422 



Garden and Forest. 



[Number 185. 



ment in such places as the Luxembourg and Tuileries 

 gardens might advantageously be made by our artists and 

 those who have control of our pleasure-grounds. But the 

 French are apt to be less skillful in dealing with a " natu- 

 ral " park than with formal gardens such as those we 

 have named, and here even they sometimes make mis- 

 takes. In the Pare Monceau, in Paris, for instance, we see 

 several bronze figures or groups set, at a distance from the 

 road, in the centre of wide quiet stretches of lawn. Such 

 an arrangement seems bad for two reasons. Not only is 

 the repose of the lawn disturbed and its natural character 

 injured by the presence of a conspicuous formal feature — 

 the statue itself is placed too far from the eye to be thor- 

 oughly well appreciated. 



But in addition to the broad rules which indicate the 

 greater or lesser appropriateness in a general way of cer- 

 tain classes of situations, a number of special points must 

 be considered before any monument can be well established. 



One such point is scale, or the relation in size of the 

 work of art to its environment. The figure of Webster in 

 the Central Park stands in an excellent place, in the centre 

 of a large circle where the West Drive is crossed by the 

 road leading to Seventy-second Street. But it makes a 

 poor effect, and not only because it is uninteresting and 

 weak in conception and mechanical in execution ; it is out 

 of scale ; it is so large that it dwarfs alike the neighboring 

 trees and the passing figures of living men. In another situ- 

 ation it might not produce this effect, while, on the other 

 hand, it would not be hard to point to statues which, if 

 increased in size, would look much better where they 

 chance to stand. Excessive" size is a very common defect 

 in the portrait busts we occasionally place out-of-doors, as, 

 for instance, in the Schiller, in the Central Park, and the 

 Irving, in Bryant Park. A bust should almost always be 

 placed near the eye, and, if made very big, produces not an 

 "heroic" impression, but simply one of unnatural and disa- 

 greeable bulk. If the situation chosen for a bust demands a 

 comparatively large monument, then the architect should be 

 called upon for an elaborate pedestal. The French appre- 

 ciate this, and their architectural memorials, crowned by 

 a bust little, if at all, larger than life, are among their hap- 

 piest creations. 



Nor is it only when busts are in question that the archi- 

 tect may help in giving a monument the proper scale. 

 The circle where the Webster stands demands a large monu- 

 ment. An equestrian statue might well have been placed 

 there, as bulk could thus have been secured without any 

 undue exaggeration in scale ; but a smaller standing figure 

 on a more spreading and elaborate base might likewise 

 have been eminently successful. Where such a circle is 

 formed not by drive-ways, but by paths, it is usually 

 smaller, and therefore demands a smaller monument for its 

 completion ; and every such spot should be supplied with 

 its adornment only after a nice consideration of this ques- 

 tion of scale, in full consciousness of the fact that a mis- 

 take will injure both the work of art as such and the general 

 effect of the locality. 



Another important point is the height above the eye at 

 which a monument will stand. In city streets or squares 

 this is" determined simply by the pedestal ; but in parks 

 there are sometimes excellent situations elevated above 

 the roads and walks. Statues placed here will be seen not 

 against a background of buildings or foliage, but outlined 

 against the sky, and their silhouette should therefore be 

 considered with more than usual care. The Bolivar in the 

 Central Park, on its little elevated plateau overlooking 

 Eighth Avenue, proves that a bad statue may seem doubly 

 bad when all its outlines are thus conspicuously lifted into 

 prominence ; but it also suggests, of course, how greatly 

 the beauty of a good one might be increased by such a 

 situation. Also in the Central Park, not far from the Web- 

 ster statue, there is a figure Of a falconer, which, if not a 

 remarkable, is a pleasing work of art ; and its effectiveness 

 is certainly increased by its elevation on a rocky slope, 

 although one might wish this slope had been a little less 



rural in character, a little better adapted for the reception 

 of so artificial an ornament. A good place for a group or 

 figure which demands a certain elevation to appear at its 

 best is the top of a terrace or the balustrade of a bridge. 

 In many European cities the old stone bridges are adorned 

 with statues, which are themselves admirably shown, while 

 the effect of the bridge is greatly improved ; but we can re- 

 member no instance in America where the same thing has 

 been done. For a large bridge great groups or equestrian 

 figures are naturally desirable ; but on a small one busts or 

 other small works might be very beautiful. We should like 

 to see a park bridge designed with especial reference to the 

 sculptor's subsequent work, and then ornamented with the 

 best that our sculptors now can achieve. Moreover, in 

 such a place, or along the balustrade of a terrace, many 

 men might be fittingly commemorated whose memory de- 

 serves to be perpetuated, yet who were hardly great enough 

 to warrant the erection of a wholly independent monument 

 of a more conspicuous sort. 



A Brook in the Yosemite. 



THE presence of water in some form almost always 

 adds interest to a landscape. The distinct sea, 

 with its suggestion of vastness and sublimity ; a great 

 river, flowing by in strength and silence ; a placid lake, 

 which mirrors back the light of the skies ; the " still waters," 

 which always unite with "green pastures," to form pictures 

 of perfect peace ; a running brook, with its sparkle and 

 vivacity — each one of these reveals some of those dis- 

 tinctive qualities which in infinite variety finds expression in 

 objects of natural grandeur or beauty. The brook in the 

 illustration, page 426, which is foaming over a rocky bed, 

 carries us at once into the solitude of a rugged forest- 

 country. The scene might be on the flank of a New Eng- 

 land mountain, but the trees along the borders of the 

 stream are unfamiliar to eastern eyes. They are mainly 

 Alders, it is true, but California Alders {Ahius rhombifolia), 

 which are found widely distributed from British Columbia 

 into Mexico. The great Alder of Oregon and the north- 

 west Coast {A. rubra) becomes a still larger tree than this, 

 often attaining the height of a hundred feet and more ; 

 the California Alder, however, not rarely grows to be fifty 

 or sixty feet, although toward the northern and eastern 

 limit of its range it is reduced to the form and size of a 

 shrub. It is peculiar in the earliness of its flowers, which 

 appear in central California in January, or just as soon as 

 the leaves of the previous year fall. In his paper on the 

 Pacific Coast Alders, Dr. Parry says that, "in spite of occa- 

 sional sharp frosts, the process of fertilization proceeds 

 steadily, and by the 1st of February, at least as far north 

 as the lower Sacramento Valley, it is mainly completed, 

 and the swollen winter streams, over which these trees 

 lean, and the adjoining banks are conspicuously darkened 

 by the effete male catkins, which resemble torpid caterpil- 

 lars." It is a tree of neat habit, as the picture shows, and it 

 adds to the beauty of many California streams upon whose 

 banks it abounds. 



This particular stream is in the Yosemite Valley, and is 

 probably one of the tributaries of the Merced River. The 

 illustration is from a photograph by Dr. H. W. Rollins, of 

 Boston, to whom our readers are indebted for so many 

 well-selected examples of American trees and American 

 scenery. 



How We Renewed an Old Place. 



XVIII. — LANDSCAPE GARDENING. 



~V\ THEN we first purchased this old farm no dream of land- 

 * * scape-gardening crossed our minds. It was not to 

 found a country-seat that we bought it, but simply to get a 

 place to live in, a quiet village home, as indeed it is, where a 

 lovely view would gladden our eyes, where we should have 

 elbow-room, with enough land to cultivate to provide us with 

 an interest, and where we could raise hay for our horses, and, 

 perhaps, a few vegetables for ourselves. A tree or two to shade 



