ty of
atmosphere. Let us take a picture from Naxos, the island consecrated by
the lovely legend of Ariadne; it shall be a landscape fit to inspire a
poet's song:--

"Villa Somariva is situated on the slope of a mountain, or on one of the
many terraces which are formed from the slopes. Behind the villa lies,
somewhat higher up the mountain, a little village of white-washed,
small, den-like houses, and a yet whiter church; and still higher up
than the village, a square tower--Pyrgos--in the style of the Middle
Ages. Below, and on both sides of our villa, spread out extensive
grounds, consisting of private gardens and groves, separated from each
other by two walls, almost concealed from the eye by the number of trees
and bushes which grow there in a state of nature and with all its
luxuriance. Vines clamber up into the lofty olive trees, and fall down
again in light green festoons, heavy with grapes, which wave in the
wind. Slender cypresses rise up from amidst brightly verdant groves of
orange, fig, pomegranate, plum, and peach trees. Tall mulberry trees,
umbrageous planes, and ash trees glance down upon thickets and hedges of
blossoming myrtles, oleanders, and the aguus cactus. From amidst this
garden-paradise, which occupies the whole higher portion of the entire
extent of the valley, rise here and there white villas, with ornaments
upon their roofs and balconies, with small towers, which show a mediaeval
Venetian origin. Around the valley ascend mountains in a wide circuit,
their slopes covered with shadowy olive woods, and cultivated almost to
their summits, which are rounded and not very high. These larger
villages, with their churches, and half a dozen lesser homesteads, are
situated on the terraces of the hills, surrounded by cultivated fields
and olive groves. All these houses are of stone, and white-washed, and
all approach the square or dice-like form. From our windows and
balconies which face the west, we can overlook almost the whole of this
extensive valley, and beyond a depression in its ring of mountains, we
see the white-grey marble tympanum of Paros, with its two sister
cupolas, surrounded by that clear blue vapour which makes it apparent
that the sea lies between them and our island. On the side opposite to
the softly-rounded crown of Paros shines out the interior summit of
Naxos, high above the mountain of Melanes, a giant head upon giant
shoulders, which are called Bolibay, and have a fantastic appeara