®p— 
faniiscape Cmrijnuiig, 
VIEWS AS TO THE FORMATION, AR¬ 
RANGEMENT, AND PLANTING OF 
ORNAMENTAL GROUNDS. 
FROM AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE NEW JERSEY 
STATE HORT. SOCIETY, 
IVY KLI1EUT H. CARMAN, 
Until tho views sot forth by different anthors 
as to the laying out of grounds, as to the charac¬ 
ter and disposition of the shrubs and trees to he 
selected, shall more nearly agree in essential par¬ 
ticulars, there is no one work that can bo accepted 
as a standard guide. Years ago the study of 
logic was hold in contempt because it failed to 
furnish men with methods of reasoning—with 
tho most perfeot methods of strengthening and 
directing the mental powers. Claims lints made j 
for one study, which could only justly bo made 
for all studies, fell to the ground and carried 
with them for tlio timo the real province or the 
study, viz., a method of analyzing those princi¬ 
ples by which all men must reason, The science 
and art of beautifying grounds, or Landscape 
Gardening, as it is grandly termed, is in danger 
of falling into contempt for similar reasons. 
Too much is claimed for it. In so far as it has 
to do with horticulture as an art, specific rules 
may be given for our guidance. Rut in so far 
as it has to do with imagination and taste, i. e., 
those faculties by which conceptions are formed, 
their beauty and harmony estimated, and their 
adaptability to certain grounds ascertained—in 
just so far no rules can be framed that shall 
prove to such an extent useful as to bo worthy 
of the name. 
Upon most n sthctical subjects there is sucli a 
thing as a standard of taste, which has grown 
out of an agreement among intelligent people 
upon the general principles which constitute 
them, and these are systematized so as to form 
guides which may lie safely followed. But how 
well soever such rules may be defined for other 
arts, they are the least binding and comprehen¬ 
sive for that portion of landscape gardening 
which must look, not only to the imagination 
and to the taste of the designer, but to his 
power of adapting his designs to his grounds so 
as to insure an artistic effect. 
Most books treating Upon landscape garden¬ 
ing divide the Hubjoct into two heads, viz., the 
“picturesque" and the “ beaut.it.ul." The ir¬ 
regular. wild, natural for the one—the geomet¬ 
ric, regular, artificial, gardenestpie for the 
other —are synonymous words. These books 
are at great pains to define these terms so 
that he who is forming or executing his plans, 
may not break in upon the lino which seems in¬ 
tended sharply to divide them. The natural ob¬ 
jects and contour of the land must determine 
which shall he adopted, and he who is capable of 
combining them so as to form one harmonious, 
whole, is deemed—as well ho may he to have 
attained to something like perfection in his art. 
For t he picturesque style, rocks, crags, ravines, 
mountains, overhanging cliffs, stunted verdure, 
spiry tops, dead branches and the like are thought 
desirable or necessary. For this kind of effect, 
evidently magnitude is a first requisite and sub¬ 
limity is the emotion which it is designed to 
awaken. Tho introduction of any one. or of 
(several, of the above objects in epitome ns fea¬ 
tures in grounds of quite limited exteut, can ex¬ 
cite only a sense of the ridiculous. In truth, it 
may be questioned whether all such attempts, 
even in our largest parks, are not fitting objects 
for ridicule; siuee, assisted by tho most favor¬ 
able natural conditions, they must fall immeas¬ 
urably short of tho awe-inspiring scenes which 
they caricature rather than copy. Those indi¬ 
vidual parts which make up aud arc ill keeping 
with scenes which are admired for picturesque 
vastness, arc in keeping only thero among con¬ 
genial things, and we can no more reproduce tho 
semblance of such sublimity in our home grounds 
by miniature imitations, than wo can invest a 
dinner table with sublimity hy placing theroon a 
fragment from a majestic Alpine cliff or a sprig 
from a “ spiry-topped " spruce of the Yosemite 
valley! Whatever In nat ure is not in itself beau¬ 
tiful, though transferred from scenes the most 
captivating, can add nothing to the attractive¬ 
ness of our grounds except, indeed, by contrast 
—and grounds that need ugly things to render 
them tolerablo, had better be taken out of tho 
bauds of the landscape gardener and placed in 
those of the agriculturist. 
From this point of view, rockeries, rooterios 
and the like, except as supports for vines or for 
the growth of plants that will not. elsowhere 
thrive so well, are not evidences of good taste. 
The rhapsodies that have been written about the 
picturesque, natural, beautiful, geometrical and 
gardenesque are well mated to effusions about 
“copying nature.” But how are we to copy na¬ 
ture ? Is it the cultivated field, the orchard, 
the quadrilateral of woodland that has yet been 
spared; is it the horse, the cow, the Hocks of 
sheep, the hay-stacks or hovels that we must 
THE RURAL 
copy? No, these are the works of man in a j 
measure. Must, we go into the original forests 
and there, among impenetrable thickets or trees 
with branchless stems a hundred feet in height, 
take our sketches ? Must we visit Sahara, the 
Equator, the North Polo—or, confining our re¬ 
searches to our own latitude and country—the 
unbroken prairio and the heights .and depths of 
the Sierras, in order to ho able to elaborate “ an 
expressive, harmonious and refined imitation ?” 
Follow the mazes of a lively brook through 
woods, through valley. Here we are struck with 
the wild beauty of its source—a jumping spring 
surrounded on three sides by a steep bank 
all covered w ith grass and moss and shaded by 
trees that bend over so as to sco themselves in 
its shining depths. Under tbeir shade we sit 
and admire. We trace its course as far iih it can 
be seen skirting tho woods on one side- while on 
the other are banks of entangled ferns and reoda. 
These trecH that in that inspiriting spot seem so 
full of grace and luxuriance, would provoke a 
smile if removed to our lawns. They are beau¬ 
tiful only there. The mossy bank can never 
exist in our grounds without the spring to moist¬ 
en the air and the earth; w ithout the deep shade 
that hides the midday sun. 
Incomparably beautiful as are the scenes of 
nature, they cannot be copied because their 
majesty is tho prime element of that beauty. 
The mountains can not be copied unless, indeed, 
mole-lulls may bo clothed with majesty. The 
river and tho lake require nature's grand dis¬ 
tances for their effect. The valley is pleasing 
but by contrast — and since we cannot have 
tho mountain, wo cannot ‘ have the valley. 
The sooner we abandon the idea of copying 
nature that cannot in any two places be 
found alike or in any one place adapted to our 
gromids, the sooner we may learn that nature’s 
leRsons are hut our A B C’s which we ourselves 
must combine by tho love, sympathy, power and 
education, of which we are possessed, into original 
conceptions—original forms. Nature does but 
give ua tho problem which we are to solve. She 
merely gives us the raw material out of which 
wo are —so to speak to manufacture our 
grounds, the same as she furnishes the raw 
material out of which we Jure to manufacture 
our clothing. Let us select nature’s choicest 
gems, just as we would select tho choicest litera¬ 
ture with which to store our minds, and, study- 
I ing those as best wo may, unite them in original 
designs and in accordance with the requirements, 
the characteristics, the expressions of each in 
the gromids of our homes. 
"While wc cannot remove the “ mountain glens 
and shady vales"' or any of the objocts that there 
together so awaken our appreciation of the 
charms of nature, we should never lose sight of 
one principle that pervades lior every aspect. It 
is "Variety ; and this wo may copy to our hoart'B 
content and yet I e guilty of no “ servile imita¬ 
tion." 
Onr first motive in embellishing our grounds 
is to render them as attractive as possible that 
they may becomo the dearest spots on earth to 
us. Would that this simple doctrine were indelibly 
stamped upon tho memory of all! To this end, 
if wo are to have but fifty trees and shrubs, let 
every one be different and as different as pos¬ 
sible. Let us have no pairs or triplet®, or quad¬ 
ruplicates of anything as if every tree needed a 
sentinel, or as if it were afraid to stand alone, or 
I as if t wo or more individuals wore needed for 
the completion of one auothor. Here to the 
right we have a Maple. There to tho left, situ¬ 
ated relatively to other objects precisely the 
same, another Maple—each tho ghost of the 
other. Both are thrifty, shapely, fine. They are 
so nearly alike we can detect no difference. 
Nothing is to bo learnt—no impression formed 
from looking upon both that is not as well formed 
from looking upon one. Why then have both ? 
Why not have in the place of one of them an¬ 
other species or genus that creates a now im¬ 
pression and gives additional food for pleasur¬ 
able study ? And yet these monkey grounds, as 
we may call them, arc the rule whithersoever we 
go. A mile or eo from my own residence is a 
lawn planted with Arbor-vitav-iu rows as we 
would plant an orchard—and with little else but 
Arbor-vita 1 . They arc perhaps fifteen feet in 
height and all are of the same stiff, conical, 
monumental form. 1 never pass this place with¬ 
out being reminded of a burial ground with ever¬ 
green tombstones! 
Everywhere we see the Weeping Willow. 
While in health, vigor and youth, few trees are 
more engagiug. But let us picture a law f n upon 
which Weeping Willows are the only trees and 
our impulse would be too weep too! If ever a 
tree expressed a sentiment, the Weeping Willow 
expresses sorrow, and its place—to exist in num¬ 
bers—is in cemeteries where we could fancy that 
it sheds tears over the graves. If ever a tree 
expressed those peculiarities which colloquially 
• make up an “old maid," it is the Lombardy or 
Fastigiate Poplar Fastidious would, perhaps 
have been a more expressive specific name. A 
lawn planted with this tree alone—if it did not 
too much excite our pity from the above associa- 
YORKER 
MARSH 24 
tion, would be quite likely to excite our laughter. 
Thus it is, while all trees are more or less beauti¬ 
ful ; while many, hy their fo.iage, spray, habit, 
etc., convey an individuality that wo connect 
with some sentiment which adapts them to par¬ 
ticular situations—yet the pleasing effect of one 
tree of a species in onr grounds is not propor¬ 
tionately increased by many of the same kind. 
Variety is tho principle which, while it secures to 
each, all the beauties that belong to it—imparts 
to our grounds a diversity of form and character 
only limited by their extent. Thus even in mid¬ 
winter we find much to observe—much to inter¬ 
est; while in spring, summer and autumn, our 
leisure hours arc too few for the feast of delight 
and instruction to which we are ever allured, 
All trees and shrubs have their peculiar char¬ 
acteristics — their personalities — indeed, their 
manners. Thoy are creatures that, planted per¬ 
haps hy our own hands, reared under our own 
eyes, wo learn so to love that we sock this one or 
that one as our mood may prompt. Wo accord 
to them sympathetic powers and we fancy that 
they whisper sounds that our hearts frame into 
words, and it is by an easy stretch of the imagi¬ 
nation, that we may learn to fraternize with 
them as we do with friends, and to deeply deplore 
their loss. 
We are instructed by the books at first alluded 
to, that “ thero is something uupleaHing" in the 
introduction of fruit trees among elegant orna¬ 
mental trees on a lawn—one class of vegetation 
suggesting the useful and homely alone to tho 
mind, and the other avowedly, only tho orna¬ 
mental.” That Apple or Bear trees, so mingled, 
do produce an unpleasing impression upon the 
mind is, in the main, true enough. But does 
not tho fault lio rather in the mind than in the 
Apple and Fear trees? If there is a trio that 
combines tho beautiful of all trees—picturesque- 
ness, flowing Hues, symmetry—it is tho Apple 
when given the same care that ovr favorite orna¬ 
mental trees receive. And little less need be 
| said of the Pear. I once saw—twenty five yards 
off in a garden—a free so compact, so shapely 
that I hastened nearer to ascertain what it was. 
The impression of its exceedin'] beauty remained 
' unchanged until I discovered tint it was a 
Seokel Fear tree. Then it lost a part of its “ ex¬ 
ceeding beauty.” I would use fruit trees as 
sparingly as any other in ornamental grounds— 
but it is a mean taste that excludes them because 
they are useful as well as ornamental, 
Suppose we should include in this benevolent 
principle our wives who, when first we saw them, 
captivated us hy their lissome forms and by their 
winning faces; who, a little later, enlisted our 
respect by the goodness of their hearts—but 
who dually disgusted us as soon as wo found 
them extremely useful as well as good and beau¬ 
tiful. Then, 1 suppose, wo should name the 
kitchen as their castle and abiding place, as tho 
Apple and Fear MO rest rioted to the orchard. 
But the Apple tree is itself beautiful—beauti¬ 
ful in its erect form—equally so in its weeping 
form ; beautiful in flower as many smaller 
plants which we prize therefor—beautiful in 
fruit almost beyond any other plant. While 
many varieties of the Crataegus, Ash, Linden, 
upright Willow, Locust etc., whose habits and 
foliage are in no way superior to the Apple and 
Pear, are liberally employed for ornamental 
purposes—wo must suppose that if by any means 
they could bo induced to bear useful and splendid 
fruit, from that time they would lose iu beauty 
what they gain in utility; an evidence, truly, of 
a sublimed appreciation, taste and gratitude 
that reflects a world of credit upon the corrobor¬ 
ative authorities who dictate the laws iu works 
on Landscape Gardening. 
The substantial teachings of modern books on 
Landscape Gardening that are more or less 
applicable to oil grounds, may, I think, be briefly 
summed up as follows : 
1st. Grounds must be sufficiently graded—or, 
if not, a system of nnderdraining must be re¬ 
sorted to. 
2d. Lay out paths and drives wherever needed 
and only there. Let them curvo as if of neces¬ 
sity, and as much as possible so that this appear¬ 
ance be preserved. 
3d. Then plant fruit trees—deciduous aud 
evergreen ornamental trees as closely as possible 
so that each may develop the form that belongs 
to it in its finest maturity, and so that liberal 
areas be left for carpets of velvety grass—the 
choicest gem of all. if we are willing to trans¬ 
plant or to remove them, as in later years they 
1 begin to interfere with one another—then we 
may prefer to set them so closely together that 
a year or two w ill suffice to obliterate that new, 
naked look so painfully conspicuous in newly- 
laid out grounds that, under the other plan, 
would require double the timo. 
4th. Arrange the shrubs and trees bo as to con¬ 
form, iu a measure, to the paths and so as to 
create secluded, shady, cozy nooks and openings 
through which the eye may range as far as the 
grounds permit and yet rest only upon verdure. 
5tli. Flaut only low’ shrubs immediately about 
the house. 
1 6th. Let the size of the trees in maturity be 
adapted, so far as may be, to the extent of the 
grounds. 
7th. Give to each, as far as practicable, tho soil 
and situation best adapted to its needs. 
8th. So intermingle evergreen and deciduous 
trees that the evergreens may have proper win¬ 
ter distribution. Do not confine them to the 
N. 8. E. or W.—but ever boar in mind that ever¬ 
greens are “ friends in deed,” since they cheer 
us when all else is naked and shivering and we 
have only them to depend upon for the bright 
relief of onr winter grounds. 
Finally, select shrubs and trees the finest in 
cultivation aud the best suited to tho grounds. 
If we have no knowledge in the matter, let us 
seek those who have—and let us, above all. rid 
ourselves of that, wretched conceit which suffers 
us to believe that without experience, without 
knowledge, we are practically as well informed 
as if we had studied tho subject for a life-time. 
Many farmers and country gentlemen are full 
of solicitude for their stock,—and their barns 
and other out-buildings are models of comfort, 
neatness and order. Tho pigs, horses and cows 
would doubtless thank them heartily could they 
speak. Farmers and Country Gentlemen, your 
wives, your sons and daughters will thauk you— 
and you will perform a good work in the cause of 
morality—if yon will take the same pains to 
beautify the grounds about your homes! 
©omestir dMonomi). 
AUNT LOU’S CHAT WITH YOUNG HOUSE¬ 
KEEPERS. 
As spring is coming, and the season for making 
arrangements for the whole year is at hand, we 
will begin with the out-door affairs, this fine 
weather, leaving house matters for rainy days 
and evenings. Just now wo must decido what 
wo most need, and can have with advantage. 
Well, first we must have chickens, not only for 
tho food they may furnish us and the eggs wo 
shall need, hut for the actual pleasure as well as 
health the caring for them will give us. Ab 
every ono else when writing on such subjects, 
talks to fanners' wives exclusively, I will talk to 
young beginners who live iu towns and villages. 
There is little need of talking to the farmer's 
wife about how, and where she is to have lur 
fowls, for they, like her children, have tho 
whole farm for their range, and thrive without 
much care. This is not the case with our town 
folk, and yet keeping fowls is an easy matter 
after all, even for them. They all think they 
must have a cow, a horse, or at least a pig, hut 
few believe that chickens can bo reared in town 
with profit; yet every one who has a cow, a horse, 
or even a pig, needs at least a half a dozen 
fowls to eat the waste feed; and if you have 
not these animals you will have all the more time 
to attend to your fowls. Your stablo lot 
will serve as a poultry yard, if fenced with 
pickets to keep them from your own and your 
neighbors’ gardens: if you have no stablo 
lot, you can Bet off and picket a lot; if no 
larger than ten by twenty feet, your fowls will 
live comfortably. If you are able to do so, have 
a neat, pretty chicken-house, but if not, or if 
living in a house not your own, a good coop, 
along the fence, beginning at. one corner and 
running about six feet in length and four iu 
width will do. Tho fence thus makes one end 
and the hack, but if the weather is very cold it 
will require a little boarding up on tho inside. 
This need not be over four feet in bight, with 
perches arranged as convenient. 
Now as to food: You will need a little corn, 
mill screenings, etc., but much depends on your 
own home wastings. To begin): When you are 
preparing dinner, save all potato and turnip 
parings, cabbage trimmings, etc.; when the din¬ 
ner is “ taken up,” put all the parings etc. in 
the vessels from which you have taken your 
victuals, and let them cook while you are at din¬ 
ner ; to this add all scraps from the table, rinse 
all dishes and cooking vessels that are at all 
greasy, and add this also ; once or twice a week 
add a pod of red pepper. This mess will be well 
cooked hy the time you are ready to wash the 
vessel iu which it is cooking ; thicken it with a 
mixture of corn, screenings, meal, or what is 
better still, what our millers call chop-feed. 
Now you have food for the next morning. Give 
this, together with clean water, and all the milk 
(sour or sweet) they will drink (if you Lave 
milk). It is the care and the kind of food that 
make the good layers, rather than the breed. 
To produce eggs thoy must have grease, there¬ 
fore allow 1 no grease to go to waste. At least 
onoe each w'cek boil with the feed some meat- 
rinds, and again the sediment at the bottom of 
the can iu which you save your “ fryiugs ' may 
be added. Every evening, about au hour before 
roosting time, let the fowls into the street to 
pick up bugs, worms, etc., and if you don't have 
eggs all tho year, excepting during the molting 
i season, it will be something astonishing. " Oh ! 
dear." the young housekeeper exclaims, “ What 
