This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1846 ...and grandly, without seeing the place at all, and after reading Beaufort's " Caramania," which gives you not the least notion of it. Suppose the great hydrographer of the Admiralty himself can't describe it, who surveyed the place; suppose Mr. Fellowes, who discovered it afterwards—suppose I say Sir John Fellowes, Knt.—can't do it (and I defy any man of imagination to get an impression of Telmessus from his book)—-can you, vain man, hope to try? The effect of the artist, as I take it, ought to be, to produce upon his hearer's mind, by his art, an effect something similar to that produced on his own, by the sight of the natural object. Only music, or the best poetry, can do this. Keats' " Ode to the Grecian Urn" is the best description I know of that sweet, old, silent ruin of Telmessus. After you have once seen it, the remembrance remains with you, like a tune from Mozart, which he seems to have caught out of heaven, and which rings sweet harmony in your ears for ever after! It's a benefit for all after life! You have but to shut your eyes, and think, and recall it, and the delightful vision comes smiling back, to your order!—the divine air—the delicious little pageant, which nature set before you on this lucky day. Here is the entry made in the note book on the eventful the morning steamed into the bay of Glaucus—landed at Makri—cheerful old desolate village—theatre by the beautiful sea-shore—great fertility, oleanders—a palm tree in the midst of the village, spreading out like a sultan's aigrette—sculptured caverns, or tombs, up the mountain—camels over the bridge. Perhaps it is best for a man of fancy to make his own landscape out of these to group the couched camels under the plane trees; the little c...
