These extraordinary appearances attracted the curiosity of the elder Pliny. He ordered a small vessel to be prepared, and started to seek a nearer view of the burning mountain. His nephew declined to accompany him, being engaged with his studies. As Pliny left the house, he received a note from a lady whose house, being at the foot of Vesuvius, was in imminent danger of destruction. He set out, accordingly, with the design of rendering her assistance, and also of assisting others, ‘for the villas stood extremely thick upon that lovely coast.’ He ordered the galleys to be put to sea, and steered directly to the point of danger, so cool in the midst of the turmoil around ‘as to be able to make and dictate observations upon the motions and figures of that dreadful scene.’ As he approached Vesuvius, cinders, pumice-stones, and black fragments of burning rock, fell on and around the ships. ‘They were in danger, too, of running aground, owing to the sudden retreat of the sea; vast fragments, also, rolled down from the mountain and obstructed all the shore.’ The pilot advising retreat, Pliny made the noble answer, ‘Fortune befriends the brave,’ and bade him press onwards to Stabiæ. Here he found his friend Pomponianus in great consternation, already prepared for embarking and waiting only for a change in the wind. Exhorting Pomponianus to be of good courage, Pliny quietly ordered baths to be prepared; and ‘having bathed, sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least (which is equally heroic) with all the appearance of it.’ Assuring his friend that the flames which appeared in several places were merely burning villages, Pliny presently retired to rest, and ‘being pretty fat,’ says his nephew, ‘and breathing hard, those who attended without actually heard him snore.’ But it became necessary to awaken him, for the court which led to his room was now almost filled with stones and ashes. He got up and joined the rest of the company, who were consulting on the propriety of leaving the house, now shaken from side to side by frequent concussions. They decided on seeking the fields for safety: and fastening pillows on their heads, to protect them from falling stones, they advanced in the midst of an obscurity greater than that of the darkest night-though beyond the limits of the great cloud it was already broad day. When they reached the shore, they found the waves running too high to suffer them safely to venture to put out to sea. Pliny ‘having drunk a draught or two of cold water, lay down on a cloth that was spread out for him; but at this moment the flames and sulphurous vapours dispersed the rest of the company, and obliged him to rise. Assisted by two of his servants, he got upon his feet, but instantly fell down dead; suffocated, I suppose,’ says his nephew, ‘by some gross and noxious vapour, for he always had weak lungs and suffered from a difficulty of breathing.’ His body was not found until