It is said that the engineer had Hogarth's line of beauty
in his mind as he laid them down. And the result is striking. One
splendid satisfying sweep passes with easy transition into another,
and there is nothing to trouble or dislocate the strong
continuousness of the main line of the road. And yet there is
something wanting. There is here no saving imperfection, none of
those secondary curves and little trepidations of direction that
carry, in natural roads, our curiosity actively along with them. One
feels at once that this road has not has been laboriously grown like
a natural road, but made to pattern; and that, while a model may be
academically correct in outline, it will always be inanimate and
cold. The traveller is also aware of a sympathy of mood between
himself and the road he travels. We have all seen ways that have
wandered into heavy sand near the sea-coast, and trail wearily over
the dunes like a trodden serpent. Here we too must plod forward at a
dull, laborious pace; and so a sympathy is preserved between our
frame of mind and the expression of the relaxed, heavy curves of the
roadway.
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