ion of the island during the
French war: in a word, the whole of this Sicilian road is so
variously lovely, that if we did not know the _cornice_ between
_Nice_ and _Genoa_, we should say it was quite unrivaled, being at
once in lavish possession of all the grand, and most of the milder
elements of landscape composition. It is long since it became no
wonder to us that the greatest and in fact the only, real pastoral
poet should have been a Sicilian; but it is a marvel indeed, that,
having forgotten to bring his _Eclogues_ with us, we cannot, through
the whole of Sicily, find a copy of Theocitus for sale, though there
is a _Sicilian_ translation of him to be had at Palermo. As he
progresses thus delightfully, a long-wished for moment awaits the
traveller approaching towards _Giardini_--turning round a far
projecting neck of land, _Etna_ is at last before him! A
disappointment, however, on the whole is Etna himself, thus
introduced. He looks far below his stature, and seems so _near_, that
we would have wagered to get upon his shoulders and pull his ears,
and return to the little town to dine; the ascent also, to the eye,
seems any thing but steep; nor can you easily be brought to believe
that such an expedition is from Giardini a three days' affair,
except, indeed, that yonder belt of snow in the midst of this
roasting sunshine, has its own interpretation, and cannot be
mistaken. Alas! In the midst of all our flowers there was, as there
always is, the _amari aliquid_--it was occasioned here by the
_flies_. They had tasked our _improved_ capacity for bearing
annoyances ever since we first set foot in Sicily; but _here_ they
are perfectly incontrollable, stinging and buzzing at us without
mercy or truce, not to be driven off for a second, nor persuaded to
drown themselves on any consideration. Verily, the honey-pots of
Hybla itself seem to please these troublesome insects less than the
_flesh_-pots of Egypt.

The next day begins inauspiciously for our ascent to Taormina; but
the attendants of the excursion are already making a great noise,
without which nothing can be done in either of the two Sicilies. A
supply of shabby donkeys are brought and mounted, and, once astride,
we begin to ascend, the poor beasts tottering under our weight, and
by their constant stumbling affording us little inclination to look
about. It takes about three-fourths of an hour of this donkey-riding
to reach the old notched wall of the town. Two