whose whole conception of the charm of gardens is formed 
of successive pictures of flower-loveliness, how this effect 
of enchantment can be produced by anything so dull 
and monotonous as a mere combination of clipped green 
and stone-work. 
The traveller returning from Italy, with his eyes and 
imagination full of the ineffable Italian garden-magic, 
knows vaguely that the enchantment exists ; that he has 
been under its spell, and that it is more potent, more 
enduring, more intoxicating to every sense than the 
most elaborate and glowing effects of modern horticul- 
ture ; but he may not have found the key to the mys- 
tery. Is it because the sky is bluer, because the vege- 
tation is more luxuriant? Our midsummer skies are 
almost as deep, our foliage is as rich, and perhaps more 
varied ; there are, indeed, not a few resemblances be- 
tween the North American summer climate and that of 
Italy in spring and autumn. 
Some of those who have fallen under the spell are 
inclined to ascribe the Italian garden-magic to the effect 
of time ; but, wonder-working as this undoubtedly is, it 
leaves many beauties unaccounted for. To seek the 
answer one must go deeper : the garden must be studied 
in relation to the house, and both in relation to the land- 
scape. The garden of the Middle Ages, the garden one 
sees in old missal illuminations and in early woodcuts, 
was a mere patch of ground within the castle precincts, 
where “ simples” were grown around a central well- 
