exceeding thirty feet in depth to the bottom, which looked exactly like a lime-kiln, being of a dirty white appearance, and in continual agitation, as it were of limestones boiling; so that a person descending to the bottom of this crater would probably be scorched to death or suffocated in a few minutes, but would infallibly be ejected and thrown into the air at the first eruption. I mean by this that he would not disappear or fall into a bottomless pit (as I should have supposed before I viewed the crater), but that his friends would be sure of finding his body either yet living or dead, outside the brink of the crater, within the radius made by the erupted stones and ashes. Our guide now begged us for God's sake to descend, as an eruption might be expected every minute. We accordingly glided down the exterior surface of the cone among the ashes, on our breech, for it is impossible to descend in any other way and in a few seconds we reached its base. Finding ourselves on a little level ground we began to run or rather wade thro' the ashes in order to get out of reach of the eruption, but we had not gone thirty yards when one took place. The stones clattered down with a frightful noise and we received a shower of ashes on our heads, the dust of which got into our eyes and nearly blinded us. On reaching the brink of the old crater we stopped half an hour to enjoy the fine view of Parthenope in all her glory at sunrise. We then descended rapidly, sometimes plunging down the ashes on our feet and sometimes gliding on our breech till we arrived at the place where we had descended from our mules, and this distance, which required one hour to ascend, cost us in its descent not more than seven minutes. We then walked to the hermitage in about an hour and a quarter, and arrived there with no other accident than having our shoes and stockings totally spoiled, our feet a little singed, the hands of Mr. R.D. severely burned and both begrimed with ashes like blacksmiths. The ecclesiastic gave us a breakfast of coffee and eggs and a glass of Maraschino, and we gave him two _scudi_ each. Before we departed he presented to us his Album, which he usually does to all travellers, inviting them to write something. I took up the pen and feeling a little inspiration wrote the following lines: Anch'io salito son sul gran Vesuvio, Mentre cadsa di cineri un diluvio; Questo cammin mi piace d'aver fatto, Ma plù mi piace il ritornare intatto.