If, however, we desire to form some adequate idea of the part which volcanic action has played in the past history of the earth, we should be misled were we to confine our attention to the phenomena of the eruptions of the present day. An attentive examination of any modern volcano will convince us that of some of the most startling features of an eruption no enduring memorial remains. The convulsive earthquakes that accompany a great volcanic paroxysm, unless where they actually fissure the ground, leave little or no trace behind them. Lamentably destructive as they are to human life and property, the havoc which they work is mostly superficial. In a year or two the ruins have been cleared away, the earth-falls have been healed over, the prostrated trees have been removed, and, save in the memories and chronicles of the inhabitants, no record of the catastrophe may survive. The clouds of dust and showers of ashes which destroyed the crops and crushed in the roofs of houses soon disappear from the air, and the covering which they leave over the surface of a district gradually mingles with the soil. Vegetation eventually regains its place, and the landscape becomes again as smiling as before. Even where the materials thrown out from the crater accumulate in much greater mass, where thick deposits of ashes or solid sheets of lava bury the old land-surface, the look of barren desolation, though in some cases it may endure for long centuries, may in others vanish in a few years. The surface-features of the district are altered indeed, but the new topography soon ceases to look new. Another generation of inhabitants loses recollection of the old landmarks, and can hardly realize that what has become so familiar to itself differs so much from what was familiar to its fathers.