44 
THE MODERN CEMETERY. 
Landscape Gardening. 
Of all the conquests which the modern landscape 
gardening art has made, that of the cemetery is the 
most happy and complete. Here the greatest obsta- 
cles of conventionalism and prejudice had to be 
overcome. The cemetery is bound up in the emo- 
tions, and it has become in no small measure one of 
the forms of expression of religious feeling. Con- 
sider the form which the burial-ground takes in dif- 
ferent religious denominations. Contrast the low 
tombstones and “verdant sculpture” of the khdends 
with the profusion of architectural effects of other 
denominations The ordinary cemetery is of all 
places the most hideous. The glistening tomb- 
stones, with their teeth cut deep in inscriptions, are 
so many skulls and cross-bones, forcing u])on the 
unhappy visitor the harshest and coldest aspects of 
life and death. The rusting iron-work, vases of 
withered flowers, tawdry doves and angels, are sug- 
gestive only of the death and decay of all things. 
The graveyards still reflect the loveless dogmas of 
preceding generations. The modern garden ceme- 
tery, like the modern religious impulse, seeks to as- 
sauge the cheerlessness and sternness of life and to 
substitute that free and gracious charity which was 
the mission of One who came to rob death of its 
hideousness. 
# # # 
America must have the credit for the landscape 
cemetery. So long ago as 1825, Jacob Bigelow be- 
gan his efforts which led to the organization of Mt. 
Auburn cemetery by the Massachusetts Horticultur- 
al Society; for while this cemetery comprises none 
of the modern landscape features, it was the first 
American suburban cemetery, and perhaps the first 
effort at cemetery ornamentation by a horticultural 
organization. The modern art owes its definite ori- 
gination to Adolph Strauch, who died in 1883. It 
is therefore only a generation old. No other coun- 
try has such admirable examples of cemetery land- 
scape gardening as this, and most of them have 
none. Over one hundred cemeteries in various parts 
of the land have been directly influenced by the 
artist, and some of them are among the best models 
of landscape gardening in existence. As if to show 
that the deepest prejudice can be the most thorough- 
oughly overcome, many of these cemeteries are less 
trammeled by traditions and conventions than any 
other style of landscape improvement. They are 
the exact antipodes of the cemeteries of a genera- 
tion back — every feature which men once thought 
indispensable to a burial place has been swept away. 
The first and most important of the innovations is 
the absence of the old-fashioned high, glaring tomb- 
stones. It is evident that no landscape effect can 
be secured so long as these objects obstruct the view 
and obtrude themselves upon the attention of the 
observer. And for all purposes of identification — 
and what other purpose can any tombstone serve? — 
the modest, low headstone answers every require- 
ment. If a monument exists at all, let it be a com- 
mon one for all the occupants of the lot. The sec- 
ond great innovation is the presence of the cheery 
and restful greensward, which is unbroken by cop- 
ings and steps and grimy walks. The gist of it all 
is the fact that the cemetery plot is one homogeneous 
area in which all owners are participants, rather than 
a patchwork of incongruous and unseemly individu- 
al lots. It is one abiding monument to the sanctity 
of life and death, which inspires the sweetest and 
most hallowed emotions and abandons forever the 
lugubrious and forbidding aspects of the graveyard. 
# # * 
In all this transformation, every thoughtful citi- 
zen must have a part. If every community is bound 
to do its best as its part in the evolution of the race, 
then the old-time graveyard is doomed! Not that 
we should tear up the tombstones and grade the 
soil that is sacred to every heart in the community, 
not that — but that every simple art should be exer- 
cised to make the place more attractive, and that 
every extension of the present area should be made 
upon the approved maxims of rural ornamentation. 
Who shall do this work? The local horticultural 
societies ! Here is a mission in every community 
which will carry the love of nature and the ameni- 
ties of life to every home. The present graveyards 
are essentially bad. Their influence is unwholesome. 
And in an artistic sense, they are little better than 
the wash-tub gardens of the topiarists. Nothing is 
simpler of treatment than the rural cemetery if once 
the prejudice against improvement is overcome. The 
natural surroundings and the wild plants lend them- 
selves gracefully to the task. It must all be a labor 
of ardor and love and a feeling towards rural scenes 
which is akin to poetry. The first persons to quick- 
en the artistic impulse towards nature were poets 
and polite authors.. Pope and Addison urged the 
reformation before Switzer demolished the walls, or 
Kent “leapt the fence and saw that all nature was a 
garden.” If the soft garden-effect serves a purpose 
anywhere, it must be invaluable in the cemetery, 
for 
“The landscape, forever consoling and kind. 
Pours her wine and her oil on the smarts of the mind.” 
American Gardening. 
In the graveyard of the Augustinian Abbey of 
St. John’s, near Ennisworthy, in the south of Ire- 
land, the following custom of burial was observed 
until about the year 1818, by certain families, says 
the London l^nncral Director s Journal. The body 
