or habitation. Of all the
cities upon the Ionian Sea, only Tarentum and Croton continued to exist
through the Middle Ages, for they alone occupied a position strong for
defence against pirates and invaders. A memory of the Saracen wars
lingers in the name borne by the one important relic of Metapontum, the
_Tavola de' Paladini_; to this my guide was conducting me.

It is the ruin of a temple to an unknown god, which stood at some
distance north of the ancient city; two parallel rows of columns, ten
on one side, five on the other, with architrave all but entire, and a
basement shattered. The fine Doric capitals are well preserved; the
pillars themselves, crumbling under the tooth of time, seem to support
with difficulty their noble heads. This monument must formerly have
been very impressive amid the wide landscape; but, a few years ago, for
protection against peasant depredators, a wall ten feet high was built
close around the columns, so that no good view of them is any longer
obtainable. To the enclosure admission is obtained through an iron
gateway with a lock. I may add, as a picturesque detail, that the lock
has long been useless; my guide simply pushed the gate open. Thus, the
ugly wall serves no purpose whatever save to detract from the beauty of
the scene.

Vegetation is thick within the temple precincts; a flowering rose bush
made contrast of its fresh and graceful loveliness with the age-worn
strength of these great carved stones. About their base grew
luxuriantly a plant which turned my thoughts for a moment to rural
England, the round-leaved pennywort. As I lingered here, there stirred
in me something of that deep emotion which I felt years ago amid the
temples of Paestum. Of course, this obstructed fragment holds no claim
to comparison with Paestum's unique glory, but here, as there, one is
possessed by the pathos of immemorial desolation; amid a silence which
the voice has no power to break, nature's eternal vitality triumphs
over the greatness of forgotten men.

At a distance of some three miles from this temple there lies a little
lake, or a large pond, which would empty itself into the sea but for a
piled barrier of sand and shingle. This was the harbour of Metapontum.

I passed the day in rambling and idling, and returned for a meal at the
station just before train-time. The weather could not have been more
enjoyable; a soft breeze and cloudless blue. For the last half-hour I
lay in a hidden corner