these, we next ascended a height which had been thrown up by volcanic action: it was smoking from all its points. As the smoke rolled away from us, I essayed to approach the crater. Scarcely, however, had we taken fifty steps in the steam, when it became so dense that I could scarcely see my shoes. It was to no purpose that we held snuff continually before our nostrils. My guide had disappeared, and the footing on the lava lately thrown up was very unsteady. I therefore thought it right to turn round, and reserve the sight for a finer day and for less of smoke. However, I now know how difficult it is to breathe in such an atmosphere.
Otherwise the mountain was quite still. There was no flame, no roaring, no stones thrown up,—all which it usually does at most times. I reconnoitred it well, with the intention of regularly storming it as soon as the weather shall improve. What specimens of lava I found were mostly of well-known kinds. I noticed, however, a phenomenon which appeared to me very strange: I intend to examine it again still more closely, and also to consult connoisseurs and collectors about it. It is a stalactite incrustation of a part of the volcanic funnel, which has been thrown down, and now rears itself in the centre of the old choked-up crater. This mass of solid grayish stalactite appears to have been formed by the sublimation of the very finest volcanic evaporation, without the coöperation of either moisture or fusion. It will furnish occasion for further thinking.
To-day, the 3d of March, the sky is covered with clouds, and a sirocco is blowing. For post-day, good weather.
A very strange medley of men, beautiful houses, and most singular fishes, are here to be seen in abundance.
Of the situation of the city, and of its glories, which have been so often described and commended, not a
