"Have we any precise information about the ancient method of cultivating the vine?"
"Very little," replied Eric. "The ancients probably had no notion of this bouquet, this spirit of the wine, for they drank it only unfermented."
"I am very far," interposed Sonnenkamp, "from laying any claim to classical lore, but it is very easily seen, that without the cutting of the vines there can be no maturing and full concentration of the sap in the clusters; and without the cask there can be no mellow and perfectly ripe wine."
"Without the cask? Why the cask?" asked the Russian. "Does the wood of the cask serve to clarify the wine?"
"I think not," answered Sonnenkamp, "but the wooden cask allows the air to penetrate, allows the wine to become ripe in the vaults, allows it to work itself pure,—in a word, to come to perfection. In vessels of clay the wine is suffocated, or, at best, experiences no change."
With great address, Bella added,—"That delights me; now I see that a progressive culture contributes to higher enjoyment even of the products of nature."
Sonnenkamp was highly pleased; he was here able to add something interesting, and he appeared in a very favorable light. Then the conversation was carried on between different individuals.
There was general cheerfulness and hilarity, and every painful impression seemed to have passed away: their faces glowed, and their eyes shone brightly, as the company arose from the table.