PARK AND CCACTCRY 
345 
fishness expressed in a material burden of stones that leave the 
artist very nearly helpless. 
General education as to what constitutes a fit burial place is 
the principal hope for relief from these unfortunate conditions. 
Like all artificial landscapes, a cemetery needs to be treated as 
a whole. But it is almost invariably considered as an aggrega- 
tion of lots and divided up with the precision and almost the de- 
cision of a checker board. 
Lot owners must be brought to look at the matter in a larger 
way than is customary before any marked improvement will 
be seen, for with them, as has been said, largely lies the relief 
sought. They must come to understand that each lot unosten- 
tatiously takes its place in the making of the broad picture; and 
that each is individually good only as it fills its place in that pic- 
ture. 
All who feel an interest in the subject can do something 
towards diffusing the dawning light of the 20th century idea of 
what are fitting burial places and memorials for the dead and 
thus help to invest it with a more wholesome environment. And 
perhaps there is no better method than by endeavoring to estab- 
lish the sentiment that it is better to own a share in a Landscape 
than a lot in a Cemetery. 
In the minds of many, perhaps of most, people a lot means 
an angular block. Being thought of as a square it comes to be 
treated likewise, and, unless some restraint interferes, its angu- 
larity is emphasized by definite boundary lines with the redupli- 
cated rectangularity we are all familiar with. 
How much better to own a share in a Landscape unencum- 
bered by conventional stones and undefaced by gaudy carpet 
beds, neither of which have place in any known variety of nat- 
ural landscape; a share in a place so charming that a Corot, 
an Inness or a Tryon would wish to paint it. 
Doubtless ownership in Landscapes as famous as paintings 
by celebrated artists would soon develop the feeling that an ar- 
tistic landscape that is to be perpetually cared for as a work of 
art is in itself the most fitting memorial for all who sleep there- 
in; that noble, living, growing trees are appropriate monuments 
to immortal souls that have passed to a higher life where they, 
too, are still growing; and it seems reasonable to suppose that the 
right of interment in such Landscapes would come to have a 
value at least comparable to sepulture in Westminster. 
For the present it is fortunate for all that wealth insureg 
many large lots in cemeteries thus securing a proportion of com- 
paratively open space. In modern cemeteries these expanses 
are increased, in locations where good landscape composition de. 
mands them, by reserving sections where plots are sold only to 
those who do not care for either monuments or stones; and stilj 
farther by preserving such natural bits of beauty included in the 
site as are unsuited for interments, as, for instance, sharp inclines 
that when well wooded or planted to shrubbery add an hundred 
fold to the charm of the grounds. 
All of these features are a distinct advantage to every share 
holder for they make possible effects not otherwise obtainable 
until higher standards prevail. 
But in the cemetery of the future the lots of the wealthy 
will be indistinguishable from the single grave section. Death 
will there in reality make all equal as it is now said to do 
There will as it were, be no line of demarcation between the 
residence quarter and the tenement district. No, it will be a 
city of the dead in name but not in appearance — all will then 
sleep in a bit of the blessed country. 
For the cemeteries of the future will be, as I have tried to 
outline, works of art; consistent, harmonious landscapes each 
complete and perfect of its kind; there will be no visible divis- 
ions for lots will melt into each other, plantations of shrubs be- 
ing placed where the unity of the scheme demands, spread- 
mg over parts of many lots, and even over the graves themselves 
for they will be level with the surrounding surface; there will be 
splendid trees, for they are part of a landscape and are fitting as 
memorials, but they will stand only where the composition of the 
picture demands trees; many lots will have neither shrubs nor 
trees, for they will be part of the open expanses that are the 
basis of good landscape art and are as essential to it as what we 
call the sky, is, in its relation to the starry worlds around us; not 
every lot will have a monument, but such works of sculptural art 
as “French’s Death and the Sculptor” and kindred dreams of 
beauty will readily be given a suitable setting because they will 
never be too numerous and are in harmony with the atmos- 
phere of these Landscape homes of the dead; records will be 
kept and limits will be invisibly marked, but in these fair pic- 
tures there will be no headstones, because the people will have 
realized — at last — that money is better spent in perpetuating 
lovely landscape memorials than in setting up unsightly blocks 
of stone— just because some one has them for sale. There may 
be inconspicuous markers but nothing more. In short, a drive 
through one of these coming Park grounds will be like the one 
spoken of in Miss Alcotts “Little Women” where the visitors 
felt they were passing through a “long gallery filled with lovely 
landscapes.” 
And the occupation of the stone mason will not be gone. If 
nothing else offers we can make Japanese Gardens the fashion 
and set them to chipping out stone lanterns — a lighter branch of 
their work than carving stones to hold humanity to earth, most 
of whom find their weight of sin more than enough. 
The gentlemen of this Association are striving to diftuse the 
light of these new ideas; they are eager to transform the grim 
stone yards of the present into the fair landscapes of the future; 
they ask nothing better than an opportunity to build up such 
lovely earthly landscapes that they will be esteemed worthy, 
(when they are themselves translated ) each to have a star of his 
own to plan and plant — as Frederika Bremer felt sure Downing 
was to have. And shall not we, the lookers on, each of whom 
has a personal interest in the matter whether we will or not, do 
what we can to aid in discouraging the morbid mortuary customs 
of our time? 
I think the majority will answer yes, for, when we come to 
think about it. the most of us will feel that: 
Better the wind swept height of lofty mountain range. 
Bright sun, sweet air, the moonbeam’s wondrous light, 
Or starry cells ’neath opal seas that change. 
Than somber stones that press to endless night. 
Better the grassy glade blessed by the sun and dew. 
Where the long shadows lightly come and go, 
Where leafy dome and spire uplift the thought. 
And soaring bird, aloof from all below. 
Carries it on, until a vision’s caught 
Of those Celestial Landscapes of the blest. 
Where souls immortal find eternal rest. 
A correspondent of The Garden, London, asks 
the editor to give him the names of three of the 
most beautiful, hardy, deciduous flowering shrubs. 
In the course of his letter he also describes a speci- 
men of Spiraea ariaefolia, which had been planted 
20 years. It is 14 feet 8 inches high and the cir- 
cumference of its branches exceeds 50 feet. The 
writer endorses the view that such shrubs should be 
planted in the open and not choked up in borders 
and groups. A feature of this Spiraea is that cer- 
tain of its leaves turn crimson in the summer. The 
editor in reply to the question of the best three 
shrubs gives: Pyrus Japonica, Pyrus malus flori- 
bunda and Prunus triloba. 
