Excursion up Mount Vesuvius.--The Hermitage.--Difficulty of the ascent.--Aspect of the Crater.--An ideal resemblance of the Entrance of the Infernal Regions.--Fit machinery for Virgil’s epic.--Eruption of the Volcano.--Lovely panoramic view.--Descent from the Cone.--Russian Frigate.--No Marine efficient without national sympathy.--Battle of Navarino. You may be surprised, that I have said so little about Vesuvius. Notwithstanding my silence, we have not passed a day, scarcely an hour, unless at night,--and many hours of the latter even are an exception,--without having this beautiful mountain under our eyes. I say beautiful, for, including its base, loaded with towns, palaces, ruins, villages, and villas,--its sides seamed with ravines, and occasionally smiling with verdure, or dark with forests,--and its cone of cinders,--it forms altogether an object of great attraction. By day, there is usually a light cloud of smoke rising from the crater, and hovering above it; and by night, occasional flashes illumine the sky and the mouth of the mountain in the way that the fire of a forge brightens and sinks in the darkness. I do not think we have seen any positive flame; but of late we have had brighter gloamings from beneath than are usual. The heat of the weather had hitherto prevented an attempt to ascend; but W---- and myself determined, not long since, that it was time to make the excursion. To this end we crossed the bay to Naples, and passed the night in town, having also an early start in view. Accordingly we drove to Portici, where we breakfasted. We then mounted our horses, under the protection of a guide of reputation, and proceeded. The ascent for four or five miles is gradual; the road, an indifferent one at the best, and nearly impracticable for wheels, leads at first through vineyards, then among copses, and often along water-courses, or across beds of ancient lava. The summit of the mountain is the cone of which I have spoken. Its form is regular, though the edges are broken, some portions being much higher than others, though the side nearest Naples and the bay, just now, is tolerably even. I believe the perpendicular height of the lowest part of this cone is about eight hundred feet; though it varies materially at different times. From its base, a ridge runs in a westerly direction for the distance of a mile, when it falls away rapidly towards the plain. The form of this ridge is favourable for the ascent as well as for safety, since the land is lower near the cone than at its extremity, and before lava could flow on the latter, it would run down the sides of the ridge both north and south of it. On the extremity of this ridge, which forms a sort of inland promontory, stands the celebrated Hermitage.