relic, I had especially to thank for my happiest moments. I did not know how impossible it was at once to account to one's self for a sight affording enjoyment. I forced myself to reflect; and, little as I succeeded in attaining any sort of clearness, I felt that every individual figure from this great assembled mass was comprehensible, that every object was natural and significant in itself.
Nevertheless my chief attention was directed to Laocoon; and I decided for myself the famous question, why he did not shriek, by declaring to myself that he could not shriek. All the actions and movements of the three figures proceeded, according to my view, from the first conception of the group. The whole position—as forcible as artistical—of the chief body was composed with reference to two impulses,—the struggle against the snakes, and the flight from the momentary bite. To soften this pain, the abdomen must be drawn in, and shrieking rendered impossible. Thus I also decided that the younger son was not bitten, and in other respects sought to elicit the artistical merits of this group. I wrote a letter on the subject to Oeser, who, however, did not show any special esteem for my interpretation, but only replied to my good will with general terms of encouragement. I was, however, fortunate enough to retain that thought, and to allow it to repose in me for several years, until it was at last annexed to the whole body of my experiences and convictions, in which sense I afterward gave it in editing my "Propylæa."
After a zealous contemplation of so many sublime plastic works, I was not to want a foretaste of antique architecture. I found the cast of a capital of the Rotunda, and do not deny, that at the sight of those acanthus leaves, as huge as they were elegant, my faith in the Northern architecture began somewhat to waver.
This early sight, although so great and so effective
