of buried cities.

Hesperus had lighted his lamp amidst the rosy skies as they arrived at
Resina. Here they quitted their horses and took mules and a guide.
As the sky grew darker and more dark, the Mountain Fire burned with an
intense lustre. In various streaks and streamlets the fountain of flame
rolled down the dark summit, then undiminished by the eruption of 1822,
and the Englishmen began to feel increase upon them, as they ascended,
that sensation of solemnity and awe which makes the very atmosphere that
surrounds the giant of the Plains of the Antique Hades.

It was night when, leaving the mules, they ascended on foot, accompanied
by their guide and a peasant, who bore a rude torch. Their guide was a
conversable, garrulous fellow, like most of his country and his calling;
and Merton, whose chief characteristics were a sociable temper and a
hardy commonsense, loved to amuse or to instruct himself on every
incidental occasion.

"Ah, Excellency," said the guide, "your countrymen have a strong passion
for the volcano. Long life to them; they bring us plenty of money. If
our fortunes depended on the Neapolitans, we should starve."

"True, they have no curiosity," said Merton. "Do you remember, Glyndon,
the contempt with which that old count said to us, 'You will go to
Vesuvius, I suppose. I have never been: why should I go? You have
cold, you have hunger, you have fatigue, you have danger, and all for
nothing but to see fire, which looks just as well in a brazier as a
mountain.' Ha! ha! the old fellow was right."

"But, Excellency," said the guide, "that is not all: some cavaliers