after the carriage all the way from the douane, and now stood pouting at the carriage door. Mrs. Steinheim reproached him for his pertinacity, and added, e un gran manco d'educazione! Ma come, Signora? Vi bacio le mane! (But how, Signora? I kiss your hand!) exclaimed the sunburnt Neapolitan, with a grand air—“I am at your service! You cannot do without me! Let us make un accordo” &c. And assiduity gained also the victory this time.
After this, I drove to my abode, which has the most beautiful situation, and presents one of the most splendid pictures which the mind can conceive, or the eye behold.
May 31st.—Yesterday the eruption increased considerably, and the torrents of lava have advanced. Towards evening, I wandered along the shore in the direction of Pausilippo, just opposite Vesuvius. One could see the streams of fire, like fiery-hot serpents; crawling down its sides, and the flames ascended out of the hollow between the two mountains. It looked like a burning city in the bosom of the mountain. It was magnificent, but terrible. A number of people were standing on the quay, gazing on the scene. I entered into conversation with some of them, and found all particularly willing to communicate all they knew. The Hermitage was said to be surrounded by the torrents of lava; the Hermit had fled; many vineyards and olive-groves were already destroyed. It was feared that during the night, the fire would advance to Barra—a village above Portici—and the inhabitants of the surrounding farms had fled. Fears were entertained also for Portici. Fire was seen, now
