irregular opening, where many rents converged; and these rents would be now seen breaking through the walls of the crater, widening as they approach the centre. (See Fig. 44, a, b.)[510] Not a single fissure of this kind is observable in the interior of Monte Nuovo, where the walls of the crater are continuous and entire; nor are there any dikes implying that rents had existed, which were afterwards filled with lava or other matter.

It has moreover been often urged by Von Buch, De Beaumont, and others, who ascribe the conical form of volcanoes chiefly to upheaval from below, that in such mountains there are a great number of deep rents and ravines, which diverge on all sides like the spokes of a wheel, from near the central axis to the circumference or base of the cone, as in the case of Palma, Cantal, and Teneriffe. Yet the entire absence of such divergent fissures or ravines, in such cases as Monte Nuovo, Somma, or Etna, is passed by unnoticed, and appears to have raised in their minds no objection to their favorite theory.

It is, indeed, admitted by M. Dufrénoy that there are some facts which it is very difficult to reconcile with his own view of Porzio's record. Thus, for example, there are certain Roman monuments at the base of Monte Nuovo, and on the borders of Lake Avernus, such as the temples of Apollo (before mentioned) and Pluto, which do not seem to have suffered in the least degree by the supposed upheaval. "The walls which still exist have preserved their vertical position, and the vaults are in the same state as other monuments on the shores of the Bay of Baiæ. The long gallery which led to the Sibyl's Cave, on the other side of Lake Avernus, has in like manner escaped injury, the roof of the gallery remaining perfectly horizontal, the only change being that the soil of the chamber in which the Sibyl gave out her oracles is now covered by a few inches of water, which merely indicates a slight alteration in the level of Lake Avernus."[511] On the supposition, then, that pre-existing beds of pumiceous tuff were upraised in 1538, so as to form Monte Nuovo, it is acknowledged that the perfectly undisturbed state of the contiguous soil on which these ancient monuments stand, is very different from what might have been expected.

Mr. Darwin, in his "Volcanic Islands," has described several crateriform hills in the Galapagos Archipelago as composed of tuff which has evidently flowed like mud, and yet on consolidating has preserved an inclination of twenty and even thirty degrees. The tuff does not fold in continuous sheets round the hills as would have happened if they had been formed by the upheaval of horizontal layers. The author describes the composition of the tuff as very similar to that of Monte Nuovo, and the high angles at which the beds slope, both those which have flowed and those which have fallen in the form of ashes, entirely removes the difficulty supposed by M. Dufrénoy to exist in regard to the slope of Monte Nuovo, where it exceeds an angle of 18° to 20°.[512] Mr. Dana, also, in his account of the Sandwich Islands,[513] shows that in the "cinder cones" of that region, the strata have an original inclination of between 35° and 40°, while in the "tufa cones" formed near the sea, the beds slope at about an angle of 30°. The same naturalist also observed in the Samoan or Navigator Islands in Polynesia, that fragments of fresh coral had been thrown up together with volcanic matter to the height of 200 feet above the level of the sea in cones of tufa.[514]

I shall again revert to the doctrine of the origin of volcanic cones by upheaval, when speaking of Vesuvius, Etna, and Santorin, and shall now merely add, that, in 1538, the whole coast, from Monte Nuovo to beyond Puzzuoli, was upraised to the height of many feet above the bed of the Mediterranean, and has since retained the greater part of the elevation then acquired. The proofs of these remarkable changes of level will be considered at length when the phenomena of the temple of Serapis are described.[515]

Volcanoes of the Phlegræan Fields.—Immediately adjoining Monte Nuovo is the larger volcanic cone of Monte Barbaro (2, [fig. 43], p. 367), the "Gaurus inanis" of Juvenal—an appellation given to it probably from its deep circular crater, which is about a mile in diameter. Large as is this cone, it was probably produced by a single eruption; and it does not, perhaps, exceed in magnitude some of the largest of those formed in Ischia, within the historical era. It is composed chiefly of indurated tufa like Monte Nuovo, stratified conformably to its conical surface. This hill was once very celebrated for its wines, and is still covered with vineyards; but when the vine is not in leaf it has a sterile appearance, and, late in the year, when seen from the beautiful Bay of Baiæ, it often contrasts so strongly in verdure with Monte Nuovo, which is always clothed with arbutus, myrtle, and other wild evergreens, that a stranger might well imagine the cone of older date to be that thrown up in the sixteenth century.[516]

There is nothing, indeed, so calculated to instruct the geologist as the striking manner in which the recent volcanic hills of Ischia, and that now under consideration, blend with the surrounding landscape. Nothing seems wanting or redundant; every part of the picture is in such perfect harmony with the rest, that the whole has the appearance of having been called into existence by a single effort of creative power. Yet what other result could we have anticipated if nature has ever been governed by the same laws? Each new mountain thrown up—each new tract of land raised or depressed by earthquakes—should be in perfect accordance with those previously formed, if the entire configuration of the surface has been due to a long series of similar disturbances. Were it true that the greater part of the dry land originated simultaneously in its present state, at some era of paroxysmal convulsion, and that additions were afterwards made slowly and successively during a period of comparative repose; then, indeed, there might be reason to expect a strong line of demarcation between the signs of the ancient and modern changes. But the very continuity of the plan, and the perfect identity of the causes, are to many a source of deception; since by producing a unity of effect, they lead them to exaggerate the energy of the agents which operated in the earlier ages. In the absence of all historical information, they are as unable to separate the dates of the origin of different portions of our continents, as the stranger is to determine, by their physical features alone, the distinct ages of Monte Nuovo, Monte Barbara, Astroni, and the Solfatara.

The vast scale and violence of the volcanic operations in Campania, in the olden time, has been a theme of declamation, and has been contrasted with the comparative state of quiescence of this delightful region in the modern era. Instead of inferring, from analogy, that the ancient Vesuvius was always at rest when the craters of the Phlegræan Fields were burning—that each cone rose in succession,—and that many years, and often centuries, of repose intervened between different eruptions,—geologists seem to have generally conjectured that the whole group sprung up from the ground at once, like the soldiers of Cadmus when he sowed the dragon's teeth. As well might they endeavor to persuade us that on these Phlegræan Fields, as the poets feigned, the giants warred with Jove, ere yet the puny race of mortals were in being.

Modern eruptions of Vesuvius.—For nearly a century after the birth of Monte Nuovo, Vesuvius continued in a state of tranquillity. There had been no violent eruption for 492 years; and it appears that the crater was then exactly in the condition of the present extinct volcano of Astroni, near Naples. Bracini, who visited Vesuvius not long before the eruption of 1631, gives the following interesting description of the interior:—"The crater was five miles in circumference, and about a thousand paces deep: its sides were covered with brushwood, and at the bottom there was a plain on which cattle grazed. In the woody parts wild boars frequently harbored. In one part of the plain, covered with ashes, were three small pools, one filled with hot and bitter water, another salter than the sea, and a third hot, but tasteless."[517] But at length these forests and grassy plains were consumed, being suddenly blown into the air, and their ashes scattered to the winds. In December, 1631, seven streams of lava poured at once from the crater, and overflowed several villages, on the flanks and at the foot of the mountain. Resina, partly built over the ancient site of Herculaneum, was consumed by the fiery torrent. Great floods of mud were as destructive as the lava itself,—no uncommon occurrence during these catastrophes; for such is the violence of rains produced by the evolutions of aqueous vapor, that torrents of water descend the cone, and becoming charged with impalpable volcanic dust, and rolling along loose ashes, acquire sufficient consistency to deserve their ordinary appellation of "aqueous lavas."