Vesuvius was not always a volcano. It was for many ages a very peaceable and well-behaved mountain. Ancient writers describe it as having been covered with gardens and vineyards, except at the top which was craggy. Within a large circle of nearly perpendicular cliffs, was a flat space sufficient for the encampment of an army. This was doubtless an ancient crater; but nobody in those times knew anything of its history. So little was the volcanic nature of the mountain suspected, that the Roman towns of Stabiæ, Pompeii, and Herculaneum had been erected at its base, and their inhabitants dwelt in fancied security. In the year A.D. 63, however, the dwellers in the cities got a great fright; for the mountain shook violently, and a good many houses were thrown down. But soon all became quiet again, and the people set about rebuilding the houses that had fallen. They continued to live in apparent safety for some time longer. They danced, they sung, they feasted; they married, and were altogether as merry a set of citizens as any in southern Italy. But the 24th of August A.D. 79 at length arrived. Then, woe to Stabiæ! woe to Pompeii! woe to Herculaneum! Pliny the elder was that day in command of the Roman fleet at Misenum, which was not far off. His family were with him, and, among others, his nephew, Pliny the younger, who has left an interesting account of what happened on the occasion. He observed an extraordinary dense cloud ascending in the direction of Vesuvius, of which he says:--"I cannot give you a more exact description of its figure, than by resembling it to that of a pine tree; for it shot up to a great height in the form of a tall trunk, which spread out at the top into a sort of branches. It appeared sometimes bright, and sometimes dark and spotted, as it was either more or less impregnated with earth and cinders" On seeing this remarkable appearance, the elder Pliny, who was a great naturalist and a man of inquiring mind, resolved to go ashore and inspect more narrowly what was going on. But a rash resolve it proved. Steering towards Retina (now Resina), a port at the foot of the mountain, he was met, on his approach, by thick showers of hot cinders, which grew thicker and hotter as he advanced--falling on the ships along with lumps of pumice and pieces of rock, black but burning hot. Vast fragments came rolling down the mountain and gathered in heaps upon the shore. Then the sea began suddenly to retreat, so that landing at this point became impracticable. He therefore steered for Stabiæ, where he landed, and took up his abode with Pomponianus--an intimate friend.