The birth of the volcano of Izalco occurred in 1770. It is, indeed, only a lateral opening of the volcano of Santa Ana, which, like Ætna, is a mother of mountains. San Marcellino, Naranjo, Tamasique, Aguila, San Juan, Launita, and Apaneca all seem to be her offspring. Near the base of the main volcano was, previous to 1770, a large cattle rancho. At the close of 1769 the people on this estate were alarmed by subterranean noises and earthquake shocks, which continued to increase in loudness and severity until February 23, when the earth opened about half a mile from the houses on the hacienda, emitting fire, smoke, and lava. The house-people fled from so terrible a neighbor; but the _vaqueros_, or cowboys, who came daily to see the new monster, declared it grew worse and worse, throwing out more smoke and flame daily, and that while the flow of lava sometimes stopped for a while, vast quantities of sand and stones were thrown out instead. For more than a century this action has gone on, and the ejecta have formed a cone more than six thousand feet high, or higher than Vesuvius. At intervals of from ten to twenty minutes, loud explosions occur, with dense smoke and a puff of cinders and stones. By night the view from Sonsonate is very attractive, as the cloud of smoke is illuminated by the molten mass within, and the red-hot stones shoot through this darker mass and seem to ignite vapors, which flash like lightning. As these stones roll down the steep sides of the cone, they leave a faint track some distance (optical, probably), and sometimes the caldron boils over, sending rills of molten lava down the cone. Well may the sailors call this “El faro de Salvador,”—the lighthouse of Salvador. Like Stromboli, it is always active; and while most volcanoes are noted for 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:—