the robe of clouds was lifted above the mountain, and displayed a lofty pillar of fire, which rose upwards, out of the great furnace. The dark cloud was tinged red by it, and the streams of lava appeared more intensely hot, and, as it were, nearer. Thick smoke ascended from the summit of the cone, and a new eruption was expected. Late in the evening, loud cracking sounds, and most strange noises, were heard.
The little company in the Schiazzi boarding-house were kept in a state of excitement by the scene, and related terrible things, and all the misfortunes which the eruption of Vesuvius might occasion, and which, in extreme occasions, might be looked for; and this made the grand spectacle at once dismal and interesting. The more remarkable personages in this company are, an American diplomate,—a Catholic,—an interesting and agreeable man; a young widow, elegant, refined, and particularly charming, of the Protestant faith, but suspected, in the boarding-house, of Catholic tendencies; and a large, stout Miss S.,—one of those originals which are only produced and sent forth by Great Britain. The view of Vesuvius, and the amiable young widow, animate her every evening to sermonize on God's providence, and to make violent onslaughts upon Catholicism and the Pope, both in verse and prose. Her fervency increases the while, she goes in and out through the door, strikes upon her breast, and calls the Pope “this man of sin,” “this antichrist,” and becomes, in the mean while, so fanatical and zealous, that it amuses me, but evidently annoys the young widow, who sits silently, with
