of danger, and with so much calmness and presence of mind as to be able to make and dictate his observations upon all the phenomena of that dreadful scene. He was now so close to the mountain that the cinders, which grew thicker and hotter the nearer he approached, fell into the ships, together with pumice-stones, and great black pieces of burning rock: they were in danger of getting aground by the sudden retreat of the sea, as well as from the vast fragments which rolled down from the mountain, and obstructed all the shore. Here for a moment he stopped to consider whether or not he should turn back; but when the pilot advised him to do so, he exclaimed, ‘Fortune favors the brave; steer to Pomponianus.’ Pomponianus was at Stabiae (now called Castelamare), separated by a bay, which the sea, after several insensible windings, forms with the shore. He had already sent his baggage on board the ships, for though he was not at that time in actual danger, yet being within sight of it, and extremely near, he determined, if it should in the least increase, to put to sea as soon as the wind, which was blowing dead in-shore, should go down. It was favorable, however, for carrying my uncle to Pomponianus, whom he found in the greatest consternation: he embraced him tenderly, encouraging and urging him to keep his spirits, and, the more effectually to soothe his fears by seeming unconcerned himself, ordered a bath to be got ready, bathed and sat down to supper with great cheerfulness, or at least, what is just as heroic, with every appearance of it. Meanwhile broad flames shone out in several places from Mount Vesuvius, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still brighter and clearer. My uncle, to soothe the apprehensions of his friend, assured him that it was only the burning of the villages, which the country people had abandoned to the flames: after this he retired to rest, and was so little disquieted as to fall into a sound sleep: for his breathing, which, on account of his corpulence, was rather heavy and sonorous, was heard by the attendants outside. The court which led to his apartment was now almost filled with stones and ashes, and if he had continued there any longer, it would have been impossible for him to have made his way out. So he was awakened, and getting up, went to Pomponianus and the rest of his company, who were feeling too anxious to think of sleep. They consulted together whether it would be most prudent to trust to the houses, which now rocked from side to side with frequent and violent concussions as though shaken from their very foundations; or fly to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though light, fell in such large showers as to threaten destruction. In this choice of dangers they resolved for the fields: but I must say that while the rest of the company were hurried into this resolution by their fears, my uncle embraced it upon cool and deliberate consideration.