and joyous, beneath the open sky; and, as they here completely fulfil their destination, their natures and characters became more plain and evident to me. In presence of so many new and renovated forms, my old fancy occurred to me again: Might not I discover the primordial plant among all these numerous specimens? Some such there must be! For, otherwise, how am I able at once to determine that this or that form is a plant, unless they are all formed after one original type? I busied myself, therefore, with examining wherein the many varying shapes differed from each other. And in every case I found them all to be more similar than dissimilar, and attempted to apply my botanical terminology. That went on well enough: still, I was not satisfied, but felt annoyed that it did not lead farther. My pet poetical purpose was obstructed: the gardens of Antinous all vanished,—a real garden of the world had taken their place. Why is it that we moderns have so little concentration of mind? Why is it that we are thus tempted to make requisitions which we can neither exact nor fulfil?
At an early hour we rode out of Palermo. Kniep and the vetturino showed their skill in packing the carriage inside and out. We drove slowly along the excellent road, with which we had previously become acquainted during our visit to San Martino, and once more admired one of the magnificent fountains on the way. At one of these our driver stopped to supply himself with water, according to the temperate habits of his country. He had, at starting, hung to the traces a small wine-cask, such as our market-women use; and it seemed to us to hold wine enough for several days. We were, therefore, not a little surprised when he made for one of the many conduit-pipes, took the plug out of his cask, and let the water run into it.
