36 The American Flower Garden 



architect of the Renaissance, looking forth from the terraced hill- 

 side to the distant view, realised that his art might be fused with 

 nature in the making of a picture where the imagination would 

 enjoy a freedom of expression hitherto unknown. He knew, none 

 better, the importance of adapting the garden to the lines of the 

 house it joined so did the Egyptian, the Greek, and the Roman. 

 He realised the importance of adapting the garden in every case 

 to the uses to which it would be put, providing accessible, shady 

 paths, sheltered resting places in the most lovely spots, fountains 

 to refresh the dweller in that hot, dry climate, and cascades down 

 the terraced hillsides from the overflow of the aqueducts, bowling 

 greens on the tapis vert, parterres, plantations of roses and fruit 

 orchards for the enjoyment of his patron's family in the union 

 of beauty with the practical he surpassed all his predecessors. But 

 his genius lay first in discovering that the landscape lying beyond 

 the house and garden should be the ultimate goal of his tributary 

 art; and secondly, in seizing on the great and varied beauty of the 

 Italian landscape, and fitting it into his design with an art which 

 concealed itself. His scenic sense remains a marvel. 



Whether one studies the Villa Lante gardens at Bagnaia, 

 the incomparably beautiful Villa d'Este at Tivoli, the superb 

 old estates at Frascati, the sumptuous pleasure grounds of the 

 prelates in Rome itself or the charmingly simple Colonna garden 

 of flowers on a hill-top in the very heart of the city, one sees 

 masterpieces of composition in the large and in detail, calculated 

 to inspire a nation of painters. 



" I can't abide Italian gardens, " a young architect once startled 

 me by saying, for he had an uncommonly artistic eye. 



"Did you ever see one a real one in It^ly ?" I asked. 



"No, I have never been there/' he frankly admitted. " I have 



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