beautiful view over the Sea of Marmora. After a ride of two hours
and a half we arrived at a little khan, {71a} where we rested for
half an hour. Proceeding thence a short distance, we reached the
last hills; and the great valley, at the end of which Brussa is seen
leaning against Olympus, lay stretched before our eager eyes, while
behind us we could still distinguish, far beyond hill and dale, the
distant sea skirting the horizon. Yet, beautiful as this landscape
undoubtedly is, I had seen it surpassed in Switzerland. The immense
valley which lies spread out before Brussa is uncultivated,
deserted, and unwatered; no carpet of luxuriant verdure, no rushing
river, no pretty village, gives an air of life to this magnificent
and yet monotonous region; and no giant mountains covered with
eternal snow look down upon the plain beneath. Pictures like these
I had frequently found in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, and also near
Salzburg. Here I saw, indeed, separate beauties, but no harmonious
whole. Olympus is a fine majestic mountain, forming an extended
barrier; but its height can scarcely exceed 6000 feet; {71b} and
during the present month it is totally despoiled of its surface of
glittering snow. Brussa, with its innumerable minarets, is the only
point of relief to which the eye continually recurs, because there
is nothing beyond to attract it. A little brook, crossed by a very
high stone bridge, but so shallow already in the middle of May as
hardly to cover our horses' hoofs; and towards Brussa, a miserable
village, with a few plantations of olives and mulberry-trees,--are
the only objects to be discovered throughout the whole wide expanse.
Wherever I found the olive-tree--here, near Trieste, and in Sicily,--
it was alike ugly. The stem is gnarled, and the leaves are narrow
and of a dingy green colour. The mulberry-tree, with its luxuriant
bright green foliage, forms an agreeable contrast to the olive. The
silk produced in this neighbourhood is peculiarly fine in quality,