the irregularity of their eruptions, Izalco is exceedingly regular, though sometimes acting with unusual violence (1798, 1869, 1870). The volcano of Tanna, in the western Pacific, exhibits this same pulsating character.

San Miguel is the largest active volcano in San Salvador, rising from the plain to a height of perhaps sixty-five hundred feet. Like most of the Central American volcanoes, its mass is a very regular cone, and its form, size, and beautiful colors render it one of the grandest objects of its class. From the deep green of the forest which surrounds its base, the color fades to the light green of the upland grass, then to the deep red of the scoriæ, and the top is grayish-white. Above all, the ever-changing cloud of smoke floats lazily away. Of all the accounts of ascents of Central American volcanoes, I have selected the account published many years ago by Don Carlos Gutierrez of his ascent of San Miguel, because it seems to convey a fair idea of the simplest form of mountain-climbing and of the appearance of an active cone. He says:

"We started from the city of San Miguel on the afternoon of the 7th of December, 1848, directing our course towards the western border of the plain where rises the dark bulk of the volcano. At eleven o'clock at night we reached the foot of the mountain, distant four leagues from the town. Although the moon shone with extraordinary brilliancy and the night was one of serenest beauty, yet we considered it safer to take shelter in an Indian hut for the remainder of the night than trust ourselves among the fissures of the mountain in the treacherous moonlight. At four in the morning, with the earliest dawn of day, we commenced our ascent on horseback. We however soon found our course so much impeded by masses of lava, over

which it was difficult to force the animals, that we were compelled to dismount and pursue our journey on foot. About half way up the mountain the dikes of lava became less frequent, and the ground more firm and open, and, although quite precipitous, yet not difficult of ascent. This open belt, however, does not extend to the summit, and long before we reached it we were again driven upon the beds of sharp, rough, and unsteady lava.

"Our course now lay through a deep channel formed between two vast currents of lava, composed of enormous crags, which in 1844 had flowed out from fissures in the side of the volcano. We had not proceeded far between these walls of rock when we found the scoriæ beneath our feet so yielding and unsteady that we could scarcely retain our foothold. Frequently we slid back three or four yards, thus losing in a moment the advance which it had cost us great labor to accomplish. Nevertheless, after many efforts and through much exertion, and after having suffered several severe falls, we succeeded in reaching the throat of the mountain. Here the lava was solid and the scoriæ firm; and though the slope was very steep and dangerous, yet we found it easier to proceed here than over the soft and yielding ashes below.

"About mid-day we reached the summit proper of the mountain and stood on the edge of the great crater, which is surrounded by a wall of immense rocks, irregular in height, and having a circuit of a mile and a half. The area within these strange bulwarks is level; but on descending, we found with alarm that it was traversed in every direction by profound fissures, varying from one foot to five yards in width, from which escaped dense clouds of sulphurous smoke. About in the centre of this

area was the yawning, active crater, or mouth of the crater, or mouth of the volcano. Our guide peremptorily refused to advance farther, insisting that we were liable at any moment to sink into some one of the numerous fissures which yawned beneath the superficial crust. He added further that in the neighborhood of the crater the gases were so pungent and the sulphurous odor so overwhelming that we could not escape suffocation.

"The alarm with which our guide endeavored to inspire us did not, however, get the better of our curiosity, and we determined to reach the crater. Providing ourselves with long staves with which to test the nature of the ground, we advanced carefully and slowly. At every step the clouds of smoke became more dense, and the odor of the gases escaping from the multitudinous fissures more overpowering. Our efforts, however, were amply repaid by the sight which met our eyes when we finally reached the brink of the crater. Nothing could be grander or more magnificent.

"A few months before, I had seen the volcano of Izalco, with its crown of living fire and its flashing tongues of flame, throwing out floods of incandescent lava; but sublime as was the spectacle, it paled and grew tame in comparison with that before us. The crater, as before observed, is in the centre of the level area which I have described. It is of irregular width, in some places only ten or twelve yards broad; in others, fifty or sixty, dividing the greater crater from side to side. The depth of this orifice, or cleft, is so great that the eye cannot fathom it. One sees only a vast gulf of molten lava, over which plays a pale and sulphurous flame, reflected again and again from burned and blistered rocks, fan

tastic in shape and capricious in position, which form the walls of the orifice. Thick whorls of smoke drifted up from all sides, so that at times I was unable to distinguish my companion, distant only a few yards. An indescribable magnetic influence or fascination seemed to rivet our eyes on the molten floods surging below us, and which, from their roar and vibrations, seemed to threaten momentarily to rise and overwhelm us, as if the volcano were on the verge of eruption.

"Our contemplations of this fearful orifice were therefore brief, the smoke and odor overpowered us; and in a few moments we were forced to abandon our posi

tions and seek a breath of pure air at a distance. We returned rapidly to the place where we had left our guide; and casting a farewell glance over the strange area before us, commenced our descent, reaching San Miguel at six o'clock in the evening, weary and exhausted."

Of the eruptions of the Central American volcanoes none in the historical period have surpassed that of Coseguina in 1835. This mountain forms the eastern gateward of the Gulf of Fonseca, Conchagua rising on the other side of the rather narrow entrance. Not remarkably high (3,600 feet), it rises directly from the sea, and by its irregular outline, scarred slopes, and desolate

appearance conveys the impression of a greater than its real mass. On the 20th of January, 1835, the disturbance began with very loud explosions, heard for a hundred leagues. Above the mountain rose an inky cloud which spread outwards precisely as Pliny describes the terrible cloud that rose above Vesuvius in 79, spreading like an Italian pine. From this column of heated vapor and sand darted lightning-flashes, produced either by the friction of the immense quantity of rough mineral particles, or by the sudden projection of hot gases and minerals into the much cooler atmosphere. As the cloud spread, the light of the sun was obscured, everything looked sickly in the yellow light, and the falling sand irritated both eyes and lungs. For two days the explosions grew more frequent and louder, while the eruption of sand increased; and on the third day the terrible noises were loudest in an almost absolute darkness. The rain of sand continued until a deposit of several feet had formed for many leagues around the crater. At Leon, in Nicaragua, more than a hundred miles away, the sand was several inches deep, and it fell in Vera Cruz, Jamaica, Santa Fé de Bogota, and over an area nearly two thousand miles in diameter. At Belize the noise of the explosions was so loud that the commandant mustered his troops and manned the forts, thinking there was a naval action off the anchorage. For eight hundred miles these. noises were heard, and the vibrations near the volcano must have been indeed terrible. We can credit the accounts of the terror of the wild things of Nature as well as of human beings. For thirty leagues around, the astounded people believed that the Last Judgment had come, and in the darkness, thick with the falling ashes,