The Relation of Natural to Artificial Beauty in Landscape 
into Nature with spade, axe and pruning-hook 
and impress upon her the fact of his existence 
by thinning out trees in one place, spotting 
young trees aimlessly about in others, laying 
out meaningless and meandering roads and 
paths and building rustic bridges and what not, 
with the idea that he is showing his sense of 
harmony with 
Nature. If he 
builds walls or 
outlying works 
in stone, he 
feels called 
upon to give 
them what he 
terms a rustic 
appearance. 
He fits their 
tops with jag¬ 
ged pieces of 
stone, paying 
but m i n o r 
heed to lines 
and levels and 
to the question 
whether any 
wall is needed 
or not. Now, 
there never 
was a piece of 
stonework that 
suffered from 
being too well 
and decent'y 
laid, and there 
never was a 
path that 
looked the 
better for curv¬ 
ing to a given 
spot when the 
curve was due 
to no natural 
obstacle and 
did nothing to 
make the grade 
easier. And when we come to the cutting and 
planting ot trees, as practiced, perhaps, more 
particularly in this neighborhood than any 
other place that I know of in the world, I can 
scarcely restrain a feeling of bitterness. What 
other part of the world has been more richly 
endowed by Nature with noble, native trees 
than ours, or what more beautiful forest under¬ 
growth can we find than that which springs 
naturally where it is permitted in the woods of 
Pennsylvania? Why should we insist in dis¬ 
carding our native growth in favor of trees 
which are not at home in our country-side and 
never will be? The pointed spruce, which 
belongs among 
the rocks and 
precipices of 
the mountains, 
or the rocky 
coasts of New 
England, has 
no sympathy 
with our softly 
rounded hills 
—its aggres¬ 
sive, pointed 
form needs the 
contrast of 
huge rocks and 
cliffs to harmo¬ 
nize with anv 
open land- 
scape. Can the 
poor, insipid 
maple (that is 
perhaps a little 
hard) co npare 
in beauty with 
our sturdy, na¬ 
tive oaks and 
chestnuts and 
sassafras? And 
as to under¬ 
growth,—why 
do we insist 
upon cutting 
off the supply 
which Nature 
is always pro- 
v i din g of 
young trees 
that will, in 
time, take the 
place ot the taller ones as they die ? And 
why, too, in cutting down our thickets, do we 
deprive the birds of their nesting places and 
the ground of its natural store of moisture, so 
necessary to the health of trees? There is a 
good old word in our language which is 
becoming obsolete in this part of the world, 
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