fragrant blossom to the golden fruit. Turn where you will, their dark and glossy foliage meets the eye in every enclosure, overhanging every wall, filling every crevice. In the higher parts and more open spaces, they contrast well with the vine, olive,,walnut, pomegranate, chestnut, and acacia; while here and there—not the least pleasing objects amid the luxuriant offspring of this fruitful soil, were to be seen noble specimens of the oak of Old England, thrusting forth their gnarled limbs in strong and sturdy independence, and suggesting thoughts of home and friends amid a land of strangers. And now that I have dwelt on the loveliness cast in rich profusion by the hand of Nature all around, I must mention the grievous disappointment one feels on approaching Sorrento, and passing through the finest part of the Piano: one drives in the midst of such beauties for miles, with scarce a glimpse of them! The way lies along deep sunken lanes, with walls on either side, so close as scarcely to admit of two carriages passing, and never less than seven or eight, and often twelve or fourteen feet high. Damp, dark, and dismal are these provoking walls, green with slimy weeds, suggesting the idea of long dreary passages to a cellar. Neither is this only here and there; but in every direction the Piano is intersected with these abominable lanes, to the total discomfiture of the traveller's view, temper, and enjoyment. Nor can the sojourner in this neighbourhood appreciate its delights, save by escaping from it to the mountains on the one hand, or the sea-shore on the other.

In the "Hôtel des Sirènes," which Ungaro recommended to us, we forgot our disappointment. It stands in one of the large orange groves, surrounded with roses and gay flowers, and quite overhanging the sea at a considerable height above it. Our rooms were cheerful and pretty: the whole expanse of sea and land, on either side, lay before us, and the deep sea

dashed upon the rocks directly below the balcony on which we stood. As soon as we had arranged matters in the hotel, and ordered dinner to be ready on our return, we mounted donkeys and ponies, and set off upon an excursion to St. Agata, in the mountains. The ponies were remarkably handsome spirited little things, especially one, which the guides called Zuccherine. A lady's saddle having been put on him, S and I determined to ride by turns. It would have astonished some of our good friends at home, could they have seen us rushing full speed up a long flight of stone steps. The pace was a succession of short leaps rather than a gallop; a most peculiar motion, but on the active little animal I rode, not unpleasant. We laughed right merrily as we dashed recklessly on, the guides shouting as they kept close behind. Stopping a good way up this extraordinary bridlepath, we dismounted to go in search of a certain point of view which lay a little to the right. A few hundred yards brought us to the top of a wild breezy hill, and the prospect which greeted us was magnificent. The day became again overcast, but as rain was not anticipated, we continued our route to St. Agata. On returning to the steeds, S― took her turn to mount Zuccherine, while I got upon her donkey. Away we went on a road that seemed by no means smooth or easy, until we learned to think it so by contrast. In a few minutes Mr. R, who was first, was directed to turn to the right, up a place which, even after our past experience, seemed perfectly inaccessible. Such sliding, such scrambling commenced, and yet upwards we certainly progressed! And now our path lay in the narrow bed of a mountain torrent, at this season dried up, where Mr. R———— adopted the wise precaution of taking his feet out of the stirrups. Scarcely had he done so before it became evident that our donkeys considered themselves in the light of this torrent, or

at least as its fair-weather substitute, for down they lay! This might be agreeable to them, but certainly by no means so to their riders. Joking apart, both Mr. Rand I were

con

at one time in danger of being seriously hurt; and had he not previously drawn up his feet, they must have been crushed against the sharp jagged rocks. As it was, I did not altogether escape, my donkey's reclining propensity occasioning me a sprained ankle, though fortunately the damage was but slight. The guides persuaded us to mount again, but the first step brought my stupid animal to the ground; so it was agreed to trust to our own powers of climbing, W—— and Stinuing the ascent with the sure-footed ponies. We learned afterwards, indeed, that it is not safe to take donkeys into these steep places, as they have not strength or suppleness sufficient to drag themselves and their riders up. Certainly, after our experience, it was rather amusing to recall the epithet of the master of the hotel when we inquired about what steeds he had, "Ah! des superbes ânes!" After all, we were little repaid for this last toilsome part of the way; a heavy black cloud obscured the view, and the wind became piercingly cold at the height we had reached.

We hastened to descend, but before much of the way had been accomplished, a storm of heavy rain came on. We took shelter in a house in the village of St. Agata. A civil woman gave us the best room she had, presenting us with oranges for our refreshment, and we amused ourselves with watching the process of silk-spinning in which she was engaged. The rain ceased ere long, and we set forth; the paths were very steep and slippery, so that most of the party walked, occasionally enjoying for variety a good tumble down. As soon as it was safe to do so, I got on little Zuccherine, who took me down famously, stepping down the stairs as cautiously as though he

knew all about it, and wished to shew his biped companions how they should proceed.

and I

A most pleasant evening closed the day. S completed several sketches, and then we drew round a woodfire, which cheerily blazed on the hearth, and many a tale was told ere we were willing to allow that repose was needful after the fatigues of the day.

As the weather was dull and cloudy in the morning, we started early on our return to Naples. A heavy rain came on within an hour, accompanying us all the way, and preventing the possibility of seeing anything more. We therefore got into the first railway train at Castellamare, reaching Naples early in the afternoon.

LAGO D'AGNANO AND THE SOLFATARA.

Mrs.

E assembled on New Year's Day—and as bright and glorious a one as ever shone-a little party, in excellent spirits, for an expedition to the Lago d'Agnano and the Solfatara. C kindly lent us her carriage, her son accompanying us, and Mr. D—, a clerical friend Dof W's. The beautiful road to Baie was familiar to us all but ere long we turned off, and soon found ourselves at the Lago d'Agnano. The little sheet of water is circled with low swelling hills, thickly

covered with brushwood. On the side of one of these hills are the remains of a villa, which belonged to Lucullus, who connected this lake with the sea by a canal still traceable, making the lake a reservoir for fish. We did not explore the ruins of the villa, being (alas for antiquarian taste!) more curious to see the Grotto del Cane, the account of whose wonders ranks among the recollections of my earliest literary acquisitions. In the same thick red book, whose pages were adorned with a picture of the leaning Tower of Pisa, was another, representing the mysterious Grotto del Cane. At the entrance, I recollect