of the momentum of the coalescing particles resulted in intense heat. Hence the molten condition of the globe in its primitive state. The molten lava of volcanoes is the survival of that original cosmical heat.

This heat has played a great part in the physical history of the globe. Volcanic action has been, as it were, the universal plough! It has given us mountains, hills, and valleys. It has given us picturesque scenery, gorges, precipices, waterfalls. The up heaving agent has displayed the mineral treasures of the earth, and enabled man, by intelligent industry, to use them as mines of material blessings. This is indeed a great and sublime subject.

I had remained near the mouth of the crater for about five hours. Evening was approaching. My drawings were finished, and I prepared to leave. My descent from the summit of the crater edge was comparatively rapid, though every footstep went down some fifteen inches through the volcanic ashes. I descended by the eastern side, and was soon at the base of the great cone. I made my way by tortuous walking round the erupted masses of lava, and also by portions of the lava streams, which, on losing their original fluidity, had become piled up and contorted into gigantic masses.

At the extreme edges of the flow, where the lava had become viscid, these folds and contortions were very remarkable. They were piled fold over fold, -- the result of the mighty pressure from behind. It was sad to see so many olive gardens burnt and destroyed; the trees were as black as charcoal. It is singular to see the numbers of orange and olive growers who choose to live so near to the "fiery element." But the heat presses forward the growth of vegetation. To be there is like living in a hothouse; and the soil is extraordinarily fertile. Hence the number of vineyards quite close to the base of Vesuvius. The cultivators endeavour to enclose their gardens with hard masses of lava, so as to turn off the flow of the molten streams in other directions; but the lava bursts through the walls again and again, and the gardens are often utterly burnt up and ruined. Almost every field at the base of Vesuvius contains a neat little oratory, with a statue of the Virgin and Child, to which the cultivators repair in times of peril and calamity. But chapel, statue, and gardens are alike swept away by the tremendous descent of the molten lava.

As the night was growing dark, I made my way from these riskful farms to Rosina, a little village on the way back to Naples. As I had had nothing to eat or drink during this thirst-producing journey, I went into a wine shop and asked for some refreshment . The wine shop was a sort of vault, with a door like that of a coach-house, but with a bench and narrow table. The good woman brought me a great green glass bottle like a vitriol carboy! It contained more than six gallons of wine, and she left me with a big glass to satisfy my wants. The wine was the veritable Lachryma, Christi - a delightful light claret -- for producing which the vineyards at the base of Vesuvius are famous. After some most glorious swigs from this generous and jovial carboy, accompanied with some delightful fresh made bread, I felt myself up to anything. After washing down the dust that I had swallowed during the day, I settled with my liberal landlady (indeed she was mightily pleased with only tenpence), and started for Naples.

I had still an eight-mile walk before me, but that was nothing to my vigorous powers at that time. The moon had risen during my stay in the wine house, and it shone with a bright clear light. After a few miles' walking I felt a little tired, for the day's exercise had been rather toilsome. A fine carriage passed me on the road with a most tempting platform behind. I hailed the driver, and was allowed to mount. I was soon bowling along the lava paved road, and in a short time I arrived at Naples. I made another excursion to the crater of Vesuvius before I left, as well as visits to Herculaneum and Pompeii, which exceedingly interested me. But these I need not attempt to relate. I refer my readers to Murray's Guide Book, where both are admirably described.

After completing my business affairs at Naples, and sowing the seeds of several orders, which afterwards bore substantial results, I left the city by the same line of steamers. I passed again Civita Vecchia, Leghorn, Genoa, and Marseilles. On passing through the South of France I visited the works of several of our employers, and carried back with me many orders. It was when at Creuzot that I saw the child of my brain, the steam hammer, in full and efficient work. But this I have referred to in a previous chapter.