fields, where not a green spot nor a single vine appears to relieve the eye or detract from the desolate scene. There are some places, however, on the sides of the mountain, where grows a vine of the grape of which a wine is made called Lachryma Christi, or the "Tears of Christ," which is said to be very delicious, and which is sold at a very high price. Up higher we ascended; our poor beasts picked out their way amid the fallen blocks of lava, now leaping across ravines, and then rubbing their sides against the torn and ragged masses, until the bridle became useless, and we gave ourselves up to the instincts of the animals on which we rode. About three hours after starting from Naples, we arrived at the base of the cone, and fastened our horses in the crater of an extinct volcano, or rather an old crater of the still trembling and fiery Vesuvius. And now commenced our toils. The cone is desperately steep, and we were obliged to clamber up over rough, rolling pieces of lava, which are set in motion as the foot treads upon them, and frequently three steps are taken backward where one is set forward. For a while, we toiled up the steep without assistance; but, at length, we called to several men trained to the work, who started with us from the base of the cone, who handed us leather thongs, one end of which was fastened to their own shoulders. Accustomed to climbing, they

moved on rapidly, and gave us much assistance. The tedious work lasted an hour, when we found ourselves at the summit, and standing on the verge of the terrible crater, just as the sun arose in all its beauty, and poured a flood of golden light over the mountain and the surrounding scenery.

At a distance, Vesuvius looks like a sugar loaf, with a small flat surface at the summit, from which a cloud

The

of smoke is continually ascending. On reaching the apex, we find that what appears to be a level plain is a tunnel-shaped crater, with its yawning mouth about one third of a mile across, and verging to a conical point in the center. The morning was a very fine one for our view, as we stood on the east side, and looked across the crater towards the west, which was considerably higher. The ground under our feet was hot, and little crevices were emitting steam and smoke. beds of sulphur, spread out all around, look pleasingly fearful; and the idea of the thin crust giving way, and letting the traveler down into the ever-churning vortex below, will enter the mind, and haunt it with forebodings of no very agreeable character. As we stood there on the verge of the crater, the deep below sent up its clouds of mist and steam, which now ascended towards heaven, and now, hovering over the mountain, completely enveloped us in the sulphureous gases. We gazed down into the awful cavern from which have poured forth, in days agone, the desolating stream which has carried terror to defenceless homes and stricken hearts. The appearance of Vesuvius now is different from what it was when by it Pompeii was destroyed. It changes its form with every passing age, and spreads wider the barren covering upon the surrounding country. Strabo, in his time, speaks of the volcano as rising behind the beautiful cities on the shores of the sea, "well cultivated, and inhabited all around except its top, which was, for the most part, level, and entirely barren, ashy to the view, displaying cavernous hollows in cineritious rocks, which look as if they had been eaten in the fire, so that we may suppose this spot to have been a volcano formerly, with burning craters, but extinguished for want of fuel."

But now, instead of being cultivated and fertile, the sides of Vesuvius are desolate, and the red masses of lava have a cheerless appearance. Far down the mountain, these fields of rough, uncomely pieces of lava, lying as they fell when the mountain was convulsed, are absolutely forbidding and painful. Previous to the destruction of Pompeii, that city stretched nearly up to the summit of the volcanic mountain. Beautiful villas were seen far up the wooded sides, looking down with smiles upon the habitations below. But now the villas and towns seem to be retreating as far as possible from the destroyer, and shrinking away from the base of the terrible engine of destruction. As we stood upon the verge, or walked around the crater, we cast stones into the abyss, which, rolling down the sides, gathered great velocity as they went, and tumbled into the cavern below. From the time they disappeared until we ceased to hear them strike, and rattle, and rebound, with a sound as of breaking glass, we counted eighty seconds.

We took our breakfast on the summit of the mountain. Our guide had brought with him some eggs and other articles of food, which we devoured with an excellent appetite. Our eggs we cooked in one of the little veins beneath our feet. With a cane, the soil was opened, and the eggs put in and covered up, and, in a few minutes, were taken out well roasted, and ready for our rocky table. While we were taking our singular meal, our guide related to us an account of a visit made by him to Vesuvius, some years since, when it was in a convulsed state. He acted as guide to a party of scientific gentlemen, who were engaged in philosophical investigations. When they arrived near the crater, they found several parties who had repaired to the spot for the same purpose. For some days, the

signs of an eruption had been visible; and, as they drew near the summit, the very earth seemed ready to open and let them fall into its bowels. For a while, they enjoyed the spectacle with no apprehension of danger, though the experienced guide urged them to descend. At length, a few puffs of smoke, as black as midnight, followed by a stream of fire, with the sound. as of breaking thunder, issued from the mountain, and the lava, scoria, and ashes fell all around them. Three were smitten down at once, one having the flesh stripped from one side of his body almost entirely. Then began a disordered retreat, in which eleven persons were killed. They commenced the descent upon the broken, rolling pieces of lava, and soon falling headlong, and tumbling over and over, were found below, mangled and dead. This tale added, if possible, to the awful emotions with which we gazed down into that lake of liquid fire, which had burnt there for ages in its exhaustless dominion; and as we turned our eyes downward towards the fearful cavern, on the rim of which we sat, we almost expected to see it send forth its tide of burning ruin upon our own heads.

A traveler visiting Vesuvius when it was more agitated than when we saw it, says,

It was a marvelous scene, that vast black valley, with its lake of fire at the bottom, its cone of fire on the top. The discharges were constant, and had something appalling in their sound. We were almost too much excited for observation. Now we looked at the cone of green and gold that sank and rose, faded and brightened, smoked or flamed; then at the seething lake; then at the strange mountain of lava; then at the burning fissures that yawned around. There were yet some remnants of day; a gloomy twilight, at least,

DD

revealed the jagged rim of the valley. Down we went, down, down, to the very edge of the boiling caldron of melted lava, that rolled its huge waves towards the black shore, waves whose foam and spray were fire and flame! An eruption evidently was preparing, and soon indeed took place. We missed the sight; but what we saw was grand enough. A troop of heavy black clouds was hurrying athwart the sky, showing the stars ever and anon between, 'like a swarm of golden bees. The wind roared and bellowed among the lava gullies, while the cone discharged its blocks of burning lava or its showers of red sparks, with a boom like that of a bark of artillery."

Another, giving a description of the mountain when in a more terrible state of convulsion, writes, "I was watching the motions of the mountain from the mole of Naples, which has a full view of the volcano, and had been a witness to several picturesque effects produced by the reflection of the deep red fire which issued from the crater and mounted up in the midst of the clouds, when a summer storm, called here a tropia, came on suddenly, and blended its heavy watery clouds with the sulphureous and mineral ones, which were already, like so many other mountains, piled over the summit of the volcano. At this moment, a fountain of fire shot up to an indescribable hight, casting so bright a light that the smallest object could clearly be discerned at any place within six miles or more of Vesuvius. The black, stormy clouds passing over, and at times covering the whole or a part of the bright column of fire, at other times clearing away and giving a full view of it, with the various tints produced by the reverberated light on the white clouds above, in contrast with the pale flashes of forked lightnings that