To render still clearer the point we have been insisting on in the foregoing chapter, it may be useful to take a rapid survey of the geography of the country, and enter somewhat more at length into its peculiar configuration and productions.[[167]] Considered as a whole, the most remarkable feature in the aspect of Greece consists in the great variety of forms which its surface assumes in the territories of the numerous little states into which the country was anciently divided. Of these no two resemble each other, whether in physical structure, climate or productions; so that it may be said that in general the atmosphere of Greece is mild,[[168]] but not in every part, for within its narrow boundaries are found nearly all grades of temperature. The inhabitants of Elis and the valley of the Eurotas are exposed to a degree of heat little inferior to that of Egypt, while the settlers about Olympos, Pindos and Dodona, with the rough goat-herds of Parnassos, Doris and the Arcadian mountains experience the rigours of an almost Scandinavian winter. In this extraordinary country the palm tree and the myrtle flourish within sight of the pine, the larch, and the silver fir of the north. In several of the islands and on parts of the continent certain tropical birds, as the peacock and the golden pheasant, have long been naturalised, while in other districts snipes and woodcocks[[169]] appear early; storms of sleet and hail are frequent, and the summits of mountains are capped with eternal snow.[[170]] A no very elevated range of hills separates the marsh miasmata and wit-withering fogs of Bœotia,[[171]] the home of gluttony and stupidity, from the bland transparent cheerful atmosphere and sweet wholesome soil of Attica, where, as a dwelling-place for man, earth has reached her highest culminating point of excellence, and where, accordingly, her noblest fruits, wisdom and beauty, have ripened most kindly.
To proceed, however, with an outline of the country: along the shores, more especially towards the west, rugged cliffs of great elevation impend over the deep, and in stormy weather present an appearance highly desolate and forbidding. But descending the Ionian sea, and doubling Cape Crio, the south westernmost promontory of Crete, the approach towards the tropics is felt both in the air and in the landscape. The nights are beyond description lovely, the stars appear with increased size and brilliancy,[[172]] and morning spreads over both land and wave a beauty but faintly reflected even in poetry. Every rock and headland, clothed with the double light of mythology and the sun, emerges from the obscurities of the dawn glittering with dew and fresh as at the creation. The slopes of the mountains, feathered with hanging woods, lead the eye upwards to those aspiring peaks, the cradle of many a Hellenic legend, where snows pale and shining as those of Mont Blanc,[[173]] descending on all sides in wavy gradations to meet the forests, rest for ever, and at the opening and the close of day exhibit that crimson blush which we observe among the higher Alps. All the lowlands at their base are meantime covered, perhaps, with heavy mists, while lighter and more fleecy vapours hang here and there upon the mountain tops, augmenting their grandeur by allowing the imagination like a Titan to pile them up as high as it pleases towards heaven. The coasts of eastern Hellas, including those of Eubœa, along the whole line of Thessaly to the confines of Macedonia, are bold and rocky, frowning like the ramparts of freedom upon the slaves of the Asiatic plains.
Traversed in almost every direction by mountain chains infinitely ramified and towering in many places to a vast height, Greece has, likewise, its elevated table-lands, lakes, bogs, morasses, with extensive open downs and heaths. Lying between the thirty-sixth and forty-first degrees of north latitude, and excepting on the Illyrian and Macedonian frontier everywhere surrounded by the sea, it may in many respects be said to enjoy the most advantageous position on the globe. From the barbarian countries of Macedonia and Illyria it is divided by a series of contiguous mountain ridges, which commencing with Olympos, (covered all the year round with snow, amid which the poet Orpheus[[174]] was interred,) and including the Cambunian range, with the lofty peak of Lacmos, stretches westward across the continent, and terminates in the stormy Acroceraunian promontory. The most northern provinces of Hellas, immediately within this boundary and west of the Pindos range, were Chaonia and Molossia, and towards the east Thessaly—a circular valley of exceeding fertility, encompassed by chains of lofty mountains. This province contains the largest and richest plains in Greece; and many of the names most hallowed by its religious traditions and most renowned in poetry, belong to Thessaly. Here, in fact, was the supposed cradle of the Hellenes. From hence sailed the Argo and incomparably the greatest of all the heroes who fought at Troy
“—--mixed with auxiliar gods.”
The geography of Thessaly is remarkable. According to a tradition already mentioned it was once a mountain-girt lake, the waters of which augmented by unusual rains burst their stupendous barriers and tore themselves a way through opposing rocks to the sea. Among the tribes of northern Hindùstân a similar tradition prevails respecting the formation of the Vale of Kashmèr; and whether in these cases the voice of fame has preserved or not an historical truth, such events may be regarded as not improbable in countries abounding with mountain lakes whose beds lie considerably above the level of the sea. The lofty ridge which skirts the shores of the Ægæan, and is said to have been rent in remote antiquity by the waters of the lake, presents a highly varied aspect to the approaching mariner. First on sailing northward Pelion comes in sight: a broad ridge rising from the waves like a huge uncrenalated[uncrenalated] wall, and covered in Homeric times with fiercely waving woods. To this succeeds Ossa, with its steep conical peak, clothed with durable snows and divided by a narrow dusky gap from Olympos. This gap is Tempe,[[175]] whose savage beauties poets and sophists have vied with each other in describing, though the reality is still finer than their pictures. On entering the defiles of the mountains a narrow glen hemmed in by precipitous rocks, bare in some places, in others verdant with hanging oaks, receives the waters of the Peneios, which, like the Rhone at St. Maurice and the Nile at Silsilis, in some places fill up the whole breadth of the pass, leaving scarcely room for a straitened road carried over rocky ledges. Farther on they diffuse themselves over a broad pebbly bed, and narrow prospects are opened up through woody vistas into soft pastural recesses, carpeted with emerald turf, and perfumed with flowers and shrubs of the richest fragrance. Anon the vale contracts again, gloomy cliffs frown over the stream and sadden its surface with their shadows, until at length the whole chain is traversed and the Peneios precipitates its laughing waters into the Ægæan.[[176]] Crossing the great range of Pindos we enter Epeiros,[[177]] a country anciently divided into many provinces, and partly inhabited by semi-barbarous tribes, where on the borders of a lake singularly beautiful and picturesque stood the fane and oracle of Dodonæan Zeus. Homer, accustomed to the mild skies of Ionia, speaks of its climate as rude and severe. But Byron, born among the hungry rocks of Caledonia, and habituated to the savage features of the north, was smitten with its wild charms, and thus describes one of the scenes in the neighbourhood near the sources of the Acheron.
Monastic Zitza, from thy shady brow,
Thou small but favoured spot of holy ground,
Where’er we gaze,—around, above, below,
What rainbow tints, what magic charms are found!
Rock, river, forest, mountain,—all abound;