exclamations would have kept up my interest had it flagged.  “O veda, Signora!  O bella!  O stupenda!” The last great burst of fire was accompanied by a fresh overflow of lava, which issued from the crater, on the west side, in two broad streams, and united a few hundred feet below, taking the direction of Torre del Greco.  After this explosion the eruption subsided, and the mountain seemed to repose:  now and then showers of stones flew up, but to no great height, and unaccompanied by any vivid flames.  There was a dull red light over the mouth of the crater, round which the smoke rolled in dense tumultuous volumes, and then blew off towards the south-west.

After a slow and difficult descent we reached the Hermitage.  I was so exhausted that I was glad to rest for a few minutes.  My good friend Salvador brought me a glass of Lachryma Christi and the leg of a chicken; and with recruited spirits we mounted our animals and again started.

The descent was infinitely more slow and difficult than the ascent, and much more trying to the nerves.  I had not Salvador at my side, nor the mountain before me, to beguile me from my fears; at length I prevailed on one of our attendants, a fine tall figure of a man, to sing to me; and though he had been up the mountain six times in the course of the day, he sang delightfully and with great spirit and expression, as he strided along with his hand upon my bridle, accompanied by a magnificent rumbling bass from the mountain, which every now and then drowned the melody of his voice, and made me start.  It was past three when we reached Resina, and nearly five when we got home:  yet I rose this morning at my usual hour, and do not feel much fatigued.  About twelve to-day I saw Mount Vesuvius, looking as quiet and placid as the first time I viewed it.  There was little smoke, and neither the glowing lava nor the flames were visible in the glare of the sunshine.  The atmosphere was perfectly clear, and as I gazed, almost misdoubting my senses, I could scarcely believe in the reality of the tremendous scene I had witnessed but a few hours before.

26.—­The eruption burst forth again to-day, and is exceedingly grand; though not equal to what it was on Sunday night.  The smoke rises from the crater in dense black masses, and the wind having veered a few points to the southward, it is now driven in the direction of Naples.  At the moment I write this, the skies are obscured by rolling vapours, and the sun, which is now setting just opposite to Vesuvius, shines, as I have seen him through a London mist, red, and shorn of his beams.  The sea is angry and discoloured; the day most oppressively sultry, and the atmosphere thick, sulphureous, and loaded with an almost impalpable dust, which falls on the paper as I write.