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An hour brought us to the resting…place called the Hermitage； an osteria and observatory established by the government。 Standing upon the end of a spur； it seems to be safe from the lava； whose course has always been on either side； but it must be an uncomfortable place in a shower of stones and ashes。 We rode half an hour longer on horseback； on a nearly level path； to the foot of the steep ascent； the base of the great crater。 This ride gave us completely the wide and ghastly desolation of the mountain； the ruin that the lava has wrought upon slopes that were once green with vine and olive； and busy with the hum of life。 This black； contorted desert waste is more sterile and hopeless than any mountain of stone； because the idea of relentless destruction is involved here。 This great hummocked； sloping plain； ridged and seamed； was all about us； without cheer or relaxation of grim solitude。 Before us rose； as black and bare； what the guides call the mountain； and which used to be the crater。 Up one side is worked in the lava a zigzag path； steep； but not very fatiguing； if you take it slowly。 Two thirds of the way up； I saw specks of people climbing。 Beyond it rose the cone of ashes； out of which the great cloud of sulphurous smoke rises and rolls night and day now。 On the very edge of that； on the lip of it； where the smoke rose； I also saw human shapes； and it seemed as if they stood on the brink of Tartarus and in momently imminent peril。
We left our horses in a wild spot； where scorched boulders had fallen upon the lava bed； and guides and boys gathered about us like cormorants： but； declining their offers to pull us up； we began the ascent； which took about three quarters of an hour。 We were then on the summit； which is； after all； not a summit at all； but an uneven waste； sloping away from the Cone in the center。 This sloping lava waste was full of little cracks；not fissures with hot lava in them； or anything of the sort；out of which white steam issued； not unlike the smoke from a great patch of burned timber； and the wind blew it along the ground towards us。 It was cool； for the sun was hidden by light clouds； but not cold。 The ground under foot was slightly warm。 I had expected to feel some dread； or shrinking； or at least some sense of insecurity； but I did not the slightest； then or afterwards； and I think mine is the usual experience。 I had no more sense of danger on the edge of the crater than I had in the streets of Naples。
We next addressed ourselves to the Cone； which is a loose hill of ashes and sand；a natural slope； I should say； of about one and a half to one； offering no foothold。 The climb is very fatiguing； because you sink in to the ankles； and slide back at every step； but it is short；we were up in six to eight minutes；though the ladies； who had been helped a little by the guides； were nearly exhausted； and sank down on the very edge of the crater； with their backs to the smoke。 What did we see？ What would you see if you looked into a steam boiler？ We stood on the ashy edge of the crater； the sharp edge sloping one way down the mountain； and the other into the bowels； whence the thick； stifling smoke rose。 We rolled stones down； and heard them rumbling for half a minute。 The diameter of the crater on the brink of which we stood was said to be an eighth of a mile； but the whole was completely filled with vapor。 The edge where we stood was quite warm。
We ate some rolls we had brought in our pockets； and some of the party tried a bottle of the wine that one of the cormorants had brought up； but found it anything but the Lachryma Christi it was named。 We looked with longing eyes down into the vapor…boiling caldron； we looked at the wide and lovely view of land and sea； we tried to realize our awful situation； munched our dry bread； and laughed at the monstrous demands of the vagabonds about us for money； and then turned and went down quicker than we came up。
We had chosen to ascend to the old crater rather than to the new one of the recent eruption on the side of the mountain； where there is nothing to be seen。 When we reached the bottom of the Cone； our guide led us to the north side； and into a region that did begin to look like business。 The wind drove all the smoke round there； and we were half stifled with sulphur fumes to begin with。 Then the whole ground was discolored red and yellow； and with many more gay and sulphur…suggesting colors。 And it actually had deep fissures in it； over which we stepped and among which we went； out of which came blasts of hot； horrid vapor； with a roaring as if we were in the midst of furnaces。 And if we came near the cracks the heat was powerful in our faces； and if we thrust our sticks down them they were instantly burned； and the guides cooked eggs； and the crust was thin； and very hot to our boots； and half the time we couldn't see anything； and we would rush away where the vapor was not so thick； and； with handkerchiefs to our mouths； rush in again to get the full effect。 After we came out again into better air； it was as if we had been through the burning； fiery furnace； and had the smell of it on our garments。 And； indeed； the sulphur had changed to red certain of our clothes； and noticeably my pantaloons and the black velvet cap of one of the ladies； and it was some days before they recovered their color。 But； as I say； there was no sense of danger in the adventure。
We descended by a different route； on the south side of the mountain； to our horses； and made a lark of it。 We went down an ash slope； very steep； where we sank in a foot or little less at every step； and there was nothing to do for it； but to run and jump。 We took steps as long as if we had worn seven…league boots。 When the whole party got in motion； the entire slope seemed to slide a little with us； and there appeared some danger of an avalanche。 But we did n't stop for it。 It was exactly like plunging down a steep hillside that is covered thickly with light； soft snow。 There was a gray…haired gentleman with us； with a good deal of the boy in him； who thought it great fun。
I have said little about the view； but I might have written about nothing else； both in the ascent and descent。 Naples； and all the villages which rim the bay with white； the gracefully curving arms that go out to sea； and do not quite clasp rocky Capri； which lies at the entrance； made the outline of a picture of surpassing loveliness。 But as we came down； there was a sight that I am sure was unique。 As one in a balloon sees the earth concave beneath； so now； from where we stood； it seemed to rise； not fall； to the sea； and all the white villages were raised to the clouds； and by the peculiar light； the sea looked exactly like sky； and the little boats on it seemed to float； like balloons in the air。 The illusion was perfect。 As the day waned； a heavy cloud hid the sun； and so let down the light that the waters were a dark purple。 Then the sun went behind Posilipo in a perfect blaze of scarlet； and all the sea was violet。 Only it still was not the sea at all； but the little chopping waves looked like flecked clouds； and it was exactly as if one of the violet； cloud…beautif