that we were still lying within the mole long after we were at sea. The dew, with which the air was saturated, had damped the sails from the earing of the royal to the clew of the foresail; so that as the breeze gradually freshened, and the brigantine drew rapidly out of the bay, the canvas was prevented from flapping and making a noise against the shrouds and masts. Towards the morning, however, the land-wind fell, and the sails, now quite drenched, hung dripping from the yards, flat and useless. A very light air did, indeed, occasionally belly out the loftiest sails, and these flaws, which at any other time, or had the water not been as smooth as a sheet of glass, might have had no effect in impelling the vessel, gave her just headway enough to bring her under command of the rudder, and to produce, under the bows, a faint ripple, scarcely distinguishable to the ear, but visible enough to the eye. This was caused by a shining appearance of the water in those seas, not unlike melted silver, when the stem of a vessel, or the blade of an oar, divides it for an instant.

By noon next day we had made fifty miles of our distance to Palermo, which I think is about 180. I satisfied myself on this point by making an observation with the captain's quadrant—a wretched old concern, which reminded me of the instruments used in the days of Dampier, and strangely con

trasted with the elegant sextants and circles which even the middies of modern times are wont to handle. The weather continued equally fine all the way, and the water nearly as smooth as we had left it in the bay of Naples; so that even with a very light wind, we stole along so fast, that on the morning of the third day I found, on going upon deck at daybreak, that we had sailed eight or ten miles past the island of Ustica, and brought the high land of Sicily in sight. I felt happy to get something to look at which was new to my eyes; for almost everything I had seen since leaving England, except the Rhine, had lost the charm of novelty-perhaps the chief charm which belongs to most places. There are certainly many scenes which improve essentially in interest at each successive inspection, just as there are some people whom we esteem more and more at every interview; but the instances are rare, and it may safely be said of most persons and places, that we have no great wish to see them a second time.

The great sea, indeed, whether it be viewed in the open ocean -the Atlantic or Pacific-or in such mighty inland waters as the Mediterranean, is essentially so boundless in its beautiful varieties, that no one ever becomes tired of looking at it. A sea-sick passenger may, it is true, wish to get again on land, but I speak of those who

have no such weakness; and I would ask, who is there that does not discover in it fresh charms and fresh objects of interest at every trial? On this occasion the effect on me was so marvellous, that I had not been 24 hours on the water, before nearly all the maladies which annoyed me for months before had vanished. A touch of chronic rheumatism alone remained, and I felt that, but for the slight lameness which it left, I could have climbed Mount Etna, the top of which the captain (who swore he saw it) was in vain endeavouring to point out to me, under the pretty name of Mongibello, by which it is universally known in Sicily.

It was an immense comfort, too, to find how pleasantly we were situated on board our pretty little yacht; how unusually clean everything was, and without that sickening smell, which, owing to the cargo, generally contradistinguishes merchant vessels from ships-of-war. The captain, who we were rejoiced to see was a man of few words, being the least intrusive of mortals, did not even come on his own quarter-deck unless invited, or unless there happened to be duty going on! The crew, like their padrone, appeared sober, decent, quiet personages, as different as need be from the reckless, rollicking, blue-jackets of colder latitudes. The cook, that prime minister to the body politic, turned out a far better" artiste" than we had expected.

The steward, also, on whose capacity and attention so much of the comfort of a ship-life depends, proved himself a good sample of that singular class. The cabins were sufficiently spacious and commodious, the motions of the vessel easy, the wind always fair, the water always smooth, and the climate as fine as the warmest imagination could have pictured of an Italian sea in the month of May.

CHAPTER IX.

PALERMO.-PICKLED MONKS-CAVE OF ST. CIRO. -THE RESULT OF GEOLOGICAL INQUIRIES.

As we were all once more in health and spirits, we made the voyage a party of pleasure, and not, as it too generally is, a bore which it is a happiness to get over as quickly as possible. Having spread an awning over-head, and stretched a flag on the deck, we soon furnished our drawing-room with chairs, tables, and pillows, and not only amused ourselves in reading and working, but took all our meals in the air, and often sat till near midnight. Accordingly, it was rather a disappointment than a satisfaction to us, that the sea-breeze lasted long enough to carry us into Palermo, and to moor us in the snuggest little cove of a place that ever was seen, only large enough to hold a dozen vessels, at some distance from the principal mole, or artificial harbour, so characteristic of the Mediterranean ports. In this sheltered nook, where the water reposed as smoothly as if it had lain in the centre of