You may be surprised to hear it, but the volcano itself attracted very little of my attention for the first half-hour after we reached the edge of the crater; nor did it at any time, while on the mountain, fill the first place in my admiration, or even thoughts. Still it was not idle. Five minutes scarcely intervened between the explosions, which were much greater than I had anticipated witnessing. They were preceded by a heavy rumbling, and went off like the puffs of a safety valve to a huge steam-engine, though unaccompanied by any hissing. The reports were not altogether unlike those of artillery; the blowing of a whale had also some resemblance: though neither of these noises was, in all respects, like that of the volcano. Stones were hurled several hundred feet into the air, and fell on or near the little cone, which was constantly growing by these accessions. Cinders, smoke, and flame accompanied each explosion. There were many minor reports, that sounded like the crackings of a great conflagration. Occasionally, large stones fell on the plane of the great crater, at some distance from the little cone; but, I think, any one upon it might easily have avoided them. They sounded, on the plain, like stones cast on the Solfatara. We did not descend into the crater, though there was a spot where it might be done; but W---- was too much exhausted by the ascent, and I saw little to be gained by it but the right to say we had done it. The explosions were so frequent as to render it impossible to ascend the little cone, and look into the real crater; the fate of Pliny menacing all who did it, as the vapour was constantly rising in sudden and violent puffs, inhaling which would probably have been fatal.