=The Close= is certainly a fit setting for the jewel it surrounds, and with full remembrance of the superb position of Durham, the picturesque eminence of Lincoln, the dignity that marks the isolated hill whereon Ely towers over the fens around it, the harmonious environment of Wells, and many another site made memorable by its cathedral, Salisbury is, in its own way, not less beautiful. The quiet tranquillity of the large lawn, the half-hidden houses that nestle among its trees, the sense of being completely shut off from the work-a-day world, impress one as much as the apparent vastness of the area thus devoted to the cathedral. Leland, in his "Itinerary," was equally struck with its beauty, although, as the frontispiece shows, the surroundings were very different before Wyatt's exploits, and probably in Leland's time preserved still more of their mediaeval aspect. He says: "The great and large embatelid waulle of the palace having 3 gates to entre into it thus namyd: the close gate as principale by north ynto the town, Saint Anne's gate by est, and Harnham gate by south toward Harham bridge. The close wall was never ful finished as in one place evidently apperith I redde that in Bishop Rogers days as I remembere a convention was between him and the Canons of Saresbyri de Muro clausi." Whether the builders of our great churches were conscious of the beauty of their surroundings, or whether no little of that loveliness is but the slow result of centuries of care and the accident of natural growth, need not be discussed. That to an American especially this peculiar beauty tells with great force we can readily believe, and Mrs. Van Rensselaer, whose paper on Salisbury has been quoted before in this book, expresses admirably the feeling, which, whether it be true or only imaginary, is no doubt the impression of such a place as the Close of Salisbury on many an educated visitor. "Salisbury," she writes, "is the very type and picture of the Church of the Prince of Peace. Nowhere else does a work of Christian architecture so express purity and repose and the beauty of holiness, while the green pastures that surround it might well be those of which the Psalmist writes. When the sun shines on the pale grey stones, and the level grass, and the silent trees, and throws the long shadow of the spire across them, it is as though a choir of seraphs sang in benediction of that peace of God which passeth understanding. The men who built and planted here were sick of the temples of Baalim, tired of being cribbed and cabined, weary of quarrelsome winds and voices. They wanted space and sun, and stillness, comfort and rest, and beauty, and the quiet ownership of their own; and no men ever more perfectly expressed, for future times to read, the ideal they had in mind."