DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5541#0059
Chap, in.] SCENERY ALONG THE COAST. ox
of which is the citadel or Acropolis, connected with it by
two long walls extending from one to the other, and en-
closing a considerable space of ground.
We halted for a short time at a small hut about three
hours and a half from Patras; beyond which the road,
winding over gently undulating hills and promontories,
passed through a succession of natural shrubberies, filled
with plants, many of which in England would scarcely grow
in the open air, flourishing luxuriantly and grouped most
happily. The tamarisk, the ilex, and *the myrtle, with
two species of arbutus, oleanders, plane-trees, and others
of rich tints and forms, with elegant and bright-coloured
pines, clothed the hills from their summits to the water's
edge, lilling every valley and adorning every promontory.
Occasionally the road, emerging from these wooded spots,
ran along the edge of a precipice, commanding the most
enchanting and distant views, and then, descending to the
beach, compelled us to force our horses through the waves.
Nature had here accomplished what art is always aiming
at, viz. the combination of picturesque scenery and a vast
extent of prospect and water, with the most perfect grouping
of the various forms of trees aird shrubs. How strange it
is that the ancients, with their taste for everything beau-
tiful and perfect in art, seem scarcely to have felt or
admired the beauties of Nature ! Was it that a want of
simplicity in their character and institutions, and a love of
mathematical and abstract science, led them to prefer the
development of the reasoning powers of the mind to the
aspirations of the heart, and the strictly definable rules
and proportions which constituted the beauty of a temple
or a statue above the vague and indistinct charms of
natural scenery ? Or was it that, amidst the rich profusion
of vegetation with which Nature had clothed her mountains
and her valleys, no art was wanted to cultivate what we call
the picturesque; and that what was familiar to all gave no
peculiar excitement to any one 1
We met with no traces of cultivation until within four
of which is the citadel or Acropolis, connected with it by
two long walls extending from one to the other, and en-
closing a considerable space of ground.
We halted for a short time at a small hut about three
hours and a half from Patras; beyond which the road,
winding over gently undulating hills and promontories,
passed through a succession of natural shrubberies, filled
with plants, many of which in England would scarcely grow
in the open air, flourishing luxuriantly and grouped most
happily. The tamarisk, the ilex, and *the myrtle, with
two species of arbutus, oleanders, plane-trees, and others
of rich tints and forms, with elegant and bright-coloured
pines, clothed the hills from their summits to the water's
edge, lilling every valley and adorning every promontory.
Occasionally the road, emerging from these wooded spots,
ran along the edge of a precipice, commanding the most
enchanting and distant views, and then, descending to the
beach, compelled us to force our horses through the waves.
Nature had here accomplished what art is always aiming
at, viz. the combination of picturesque scenery and a vast
extent of prospect and water, with the most perfect grouping
of the various forms of trees aird shrubs. How strange it
is that the ancients, with their taste for everything beau-
tiful and perfect in art, seem scarcely to have felt or
admired the beauties of Nature ! Was it that a want of
simplicity in their character and institutions, and a love of
mathematical and abstract science, led them to prefer the
development of the reasoning powers of the mind to the
aspirations of the heart, and the strictly definable rules
and proportions which constituted the beauty of a temple
or a statue above the vague and indistinct charms of
natural scenery ? Or was it that, amidst the rich profusion
of vegetation with which Nature had clothed her mountains
and her valleys, no art was wanted to cultivate what we call
the picturesque; and that what was familiar to all gave no
peculiar excitement to any one 1
We met with no traces of cultivation until within four