thward, the Apennines
always, their outworks running far towards the sea, and the coast itself
frequently mountainous. Now, the aspect of a noble range of hills, at a
considerable distance, is, in our opinion, far more imposing (considered
in the abstract) than they are, seen near: their height is better told,
their outlines softer and more melodious, their majesty more mysterious.
But, in Italy, they gain more by distance than majesty: they gain life.
They cease to be the cold forgetful things they were; they hold the
noble plains in their lap, and become venerable, as having looked down
upon them, and watched over them forever, unchanging; they become part
of the picture of associations: we endow them with memory, and then feel
them to be possessed of all that is glorious on earth.

For these three reasons, then, the plains of Italy possess far more
elevation of character than her hill scenery. To the northward, this
contrast is felt very strikingly, as the distinction is well marked, the
Alps rising sharply and suddenly. To the southward, the plain is more
mingled with low projecting promontories, and unites almost every kind
of beauty. However, even among her northern lakes, the richness of the
low climate, and the magnificence of form and color presented by the
distant Alps, raise the character of the scene immeasurably above that
of most hill landscapes, even were those natural features entirely
unassisted by associations which, though more sparingly scattered than
in the south, are sufficient to give light to every leaf, and voice to
every wave.]

104. Now, as to the situation of the cottage, we have already seen that
great humility was necessary, both in the building and its site, to
prevent it from offending us by an apparent struggle with forces,
compared with which its strength was dust: but we cannot have this
extreme humility in the villa, the dwelling of wealth and power, and yet
we must not, any more, suggest the idea of its resisting natural
influences under which the Pyramids could not abide. The only way of
solving the difficulty is, to select such sites as shall seem to have
been set aside by nature as places of rest, as points of calm and
enduring beauty, ordained to sit and smile in their glory of quietness,
while the avalanche brands the mountain top,[15] and the torrent
desolates the valley; yet so preserved, not by shelter amidst violence,
but by being placed wholly out of the influence of viole