man of mortal mould is able for a moment to stand.

Beyond and above this din of contending elements are heard the
hoarse bellowings of the mountain itself, which, meanwhile,
trembles to its very core. The detonations from the volcano far
exceed in loudness any other earthly noise. Compared with these,
the pealing of the loudest thunder is but as the report of a musket
contrasted with the simultaneous discharge of a thousand pieces of
heavy ordnance. The explosions of Tomboro, and the vibrations
accompanying them, have been heard and felt at almost incredible
distances. Judge, then, of the immensity of the forces which are
thus brought into play, and the overwhelming grandeur of the scene
which such an eruption, with all its accompaniments of storm and
tempest, must present to the bewildered eye and ear. Even to read
of it sends a thrill through the nerves: what, then, must it be to
listen and behold?

So far do we dwell from the nearest volcanoes, and so little are we
familiar with the names except of a few, that not many persons are
aware of the large number of burning mountains on the face of our
globe. The total number, however, of those which are known to have
been active within historic times is fully two hundred. Of these,
the most familiar to us for its classic fame and its restless
activity is Mount Vesuvius, which stands alone in its grandeur on
the continent of Europe. The most violent in its activity is
Tomboro, in the island of Sumbawa. The highest is Cotopaxi, in the
range of the Andes, which rises far into the region of perpetual
snow. Its height is 16,800 feet above the level of the sea. Strange
it seems, that volcanic fires should glow at such a height in the
midst of snow and ice. But in this particular Cotopaxi does not