a
steep, often a sheer, descent, save at one point, where an isthmus
unites it to the mountains that rise behind. In places the bounding
wall runs on the very edge of a precipice, and many a crazy house,
overhanging, seems ready to topple into the abyss. The views are
magnificent, whether one looks down the valley to the leafy shore, or,
in an opposite direction, up to the grand heights which, at this
narrowest point of Calabria, separate the Ionian from the Tyrrhene Sea.
I could now survey the ravines which, in twilight, had dimly shown
themselves on either side of the mountain; they are deep and narrow,
craggy, wild, bare. Each, when the snows are melting, becomes the bed
of a furious torrent; the watercourses uniting below to form the river
of the valley. At this season there was a mere trickling of water over
a dry brown waste. Where the abruptness of the descent does not render
it impossible, olives have been planted on the mountain sides; the
cactus clings everywhere, making picturesque many a wall and hovel,
luxuriating on the hard, dry soil; fig trees and vines occupy more
favoured spots, and the gardens of the better houses are often graced
by a noble palm.

After my morning's walk I sought the residence of Signor Pasquale
Cricelli, to whom I carried a note of introduction. This gentleman
holds the position of English Vice-Consul at Catanzaro, but it is
seldom that he has the opportunity of conversing with English
travellers; the courtesy and kindness with which he received me have a
great part in my pleasant memory of the mountain town. Signor Cricelli
took me to see many interesting things, and brought me into touch with
the every-day life of Catanzaro. I knew from Lenormant's book that the
town had a singular reputation for hospitality. The French
archaeologist tells amusing stories in illustration of this
characteristic. Once, when he had taken casual refreshment at a
restaurant, a gentleman sitting at another table came forward and, with
grave politeness, begged permission to pay for what Lenormant had
consumed. This was a trifle in comparison with what happened when the
traveller, desirous of making some return for much kindness,
entertained certain of his acquaintances at dinner, the meal,
naturally, as good a one as his hotel could provide. The festival went
off joyously, but, to Lenormant's surprise, nothing was charged for it
in his bill. On making inquiry he learnt that the cost of the
entertainme