On the 23rd April (another full moon) the Observatory instruments became agitated, the activity of the craters increased, and on the evening of the 24th splendid lavas descended the cone in various directions, attracting on the same night the visits of a great many strangers. All these lava streams were nearly exhausted on the morning of the 25th; only one remained, which issued from the base of the cone, not far from the spot whence that of the preceding month had issued. Numbers of visitors, attracted by the splendour of the lava streams of the preceding night, which they supposed still continued, soon arrived, but, finding them exhausted, were for the most part conducted by their guides to see the one still flowing. It was almost inaccessible, and to reach it one had to walk over the rough inequalities of the scoriæ. It took me two hours to get there from the Observatory, when I visited it that morning, and therefore I endeavoured to dissuade those who wished to visit it at night from the attempt, but set out myself from the Observatory at 7 p.m., leaving my only assistant there. The instruments were agitated. After midnight the Observatory was closed, and my assistant retired to rest. Late and unlucky visitors passed unobserved with an escort of inexperienced guides; at half-past 3 o'clock in the morning of the 26th they were in the Atria del Cavallo, when the Vesuvian cone became rent in a north-westerly direction, the fissure commencing at the little cone which disappeared, and extending to the Atria del Cavallo, whence a copious torrent of lava issued. Two large craters formed at the summit of the mountain, discharging numerous incandescent projectiles with white ashes, and glittering with particles of mica, which frequently recurred. A cloud of smoke enveloped these unfortunates, who were under a hail of burning projectiles and close to the lava torrent. Some were buried beneath it[B] and disappeared for ever; two dead bodies were picked up, and eleven grievously injured, one of whom died close to the Observatory. He alone revealed his name, Antonio Giannone. I learned afterwards that he was a fine young fellow, and Assistant-Professor in one of the Universities. Assistant-Professors Signor Franco, who is a priest, and Signor Francesco Cozzolino, a priest also, entrusted with the festive mass for the Observatory, hastened to assist the dying. On my own return thither, the sad spectacle of the dead and dying awaited me; the former were conveyed, through the assistance of the municipal officer of Resina, to the Cemetery, and the latter to the Hospital. But we must leave this scene of grief and sorrow, and return to the eruption.