enter into the question of the origin of the enormous _quantity_, and
_close juxtaposition_, of such heterogeneous specimens.

By eight o'clock we are on board the _Palermo_ steamer, which is to
convey us hence to _Messina_. The baked deck, which has been
saturated with the sun's heat all day, is now cooling to a more
moderate warmth, and soothing would be the scene but for the noise of
women and children. Large liquid stars twinkle here and there, like
so many moons on a reduced scale, over the sea, and the night is
wholly delightful! A bell rings, which diminishes our numbers, and
somewhat clears our deck. The boats which carry off the last
loiterers are gone, shaking phosphorus from their gills, and leaving
a train of it in their tails; and the many-windowed Pharos of the
harbour has all its panes lit up, and twinkles after its own fashion.
Round the bay an interrupted crescent of flickering light is
reflected in the water, strongest in the middle, where the town is
thickest, and runs back; and far behind all lights comes the clear
outline of the darkly defined mountain rising over the city. Our own
lantern also is up, the authorities have disappeared, Monte Pelegrino
begins to change its position, we are in motion, and a mighty light
we are making under us, as our leviathan, turning round her head and
_snuffing_ the sea, begins to wind out of the harbour. A few minutes
more, and the luminous tracery of the receding town becomes more and
more indistinct; but the sky is _all stars_, and the water, save
where we break its smoothness, a perfect mirror. Wherever the paddles
play, there the sea foams up into yellow light and _gerbes_ of
amber-coloured fireballs, caught up by the wheels, and flung off in
our track, to float past with incredible rapidity. Men are talking
the language of Babel in the cabin; there is amateur singing and a
guitar on deck--_Orion_ is on his dolphin--adieu, Palermo!