broad sweeps of level plains on the tops of the mountain chains occupy almost the entire area of Mexico, and form the platform from which the volcanic and other mountains rise into the region of perpetual snow.

These table-lands rise to different heights, and enjoy a varied climate. Their surface is much broken up by lesser mountain ranges, but the plateau of Anahuac, in which the city of Mexico stands, stretches away in an almost unbroken level for 1,600 miles together; a distance as great as from the North of Scotland to the Straits of Gibraltar. This plain is widest at the latitude of the capital where it spreads out to 360 miles in breadth. Its eastern or Atlantic side is 7,500 feet above the level of the sea, and it gradually decreases to a height of about 4,000 feet as it approaches the shore of the Pacific. Of course so enormous a space does not literally present an unbroken surface; but this is actually the case for many leagues together, and carriages may roll down from Mexico to Santa Fè, a distance of fifteen hundred miles, without any serious interruption of the gradual decline. The mountains which enclose the plain of Anahuac on the eastern side are called the Sierra Madre. They are broken up by the ridges of the Sierra Altamira, and the group that contains the silver mines of Fresnillo and Zacatecas. In some places they rise to the height of 17,000 feet above the level of the sea.

In describing the mountains of Mexico, we must not omit to notice its volcanoes. There is a remarkable line of these about 16 miles south of the capital. In regular order their tapering cones rise one after another, the most eastern, called Tuxtla, being in the 95th degree of west longitude: then comes the snowy

peak of Orizaba, followed by Popocateptl, which is 2,000 feet higher than the loftiest of our European mountains, whilst Iztaccihuatl and Toluca bear away to the east. These mightier monarchs are connected by a chain of smaller attendant volcanoes, and stand like huge sentinels to guard the city and plain of Mexico. A rival to these ancient mountains, however, very unexpectedly appeared. On the night of September 29, 1759, after a succession of violent earthquakes, there suddenly sprung from the earth a new cone, which has been named Jorullo. This giant youngster rose in one night to the height of 1,600 feet. Like it in solitary grandeur, but nearer to the Pacific, towers the peak of Colima, the last of the volcanic series.

These volcanoes contribute some of its most striking features to Mexican scenery. The eye wanders for miles over slopes of marvellous beauty, bathed in a light the brilliancy of which we in these northern climes can scarcely conceive. The transparency of the atmosphere enables the eye to penetrate to an almost incredible distance. The horizon is bounded by hills that are gradually lost in shadow. In the midst of such scenes, the regular and snow-clad forms of the volcanoes break upon the eye with astonishing effect. The purity of their untrodden snows, the dark masses of scoria and lava, or the deep fringes of pine trees that skirt their bases, and by night the fiery vapour emitted from their summits combine to form a picture of surpassing loveliness. The native Mexicans deemed volcanoes to be the abodes of the departed spirits of wicked rulers—the fable, repeated in another form, of the Titans sent to suffer under Etna-and saw in the convulsions of an eruption the evidence of their fiery agonies. The Christian sees in them only one of the

many wonders of God, who, "by His strength, setteth fast the mountains, being girded with power."

The geological formation of Mexico is peculiar. The surface of the Cordilleras presents masses of porphyry, greenstone, amygdaloid, basalt, obsidian, and other similar rocks, overlying the granite which forms the foundation of the geological system throughout the country. As the land declines to the Pacific Ocean, the upper strata are wanting, and the port of Acapulco is a natural excavation in granitic rocks, which here rise to the surface. The granite crops out at intervals as we ascend from the western coast to the table-land, and appears for the last time through the porphyry between Zumpango and Zopilote. The great central plateau of Anahuac, between the 14th and 21st degrees of latitude, is an enormous mass of porphyritic rocks, which differ from those of Europe by the constant presence of hornblend, and by the absence of quartz. The primary and secondary strata occur in the same order as in the eastern hemisphere, but hitherto neither rock-salt nor coal has been discovered in any quantity in the table-land of Mexico. The porphyry in some places assumes fantastic shapes, which bear a resemblance to ruined walls and towers. The most remarkable of these is the Coffre de Perote, whose summit presents the appearance of a gigantic sarcophagus, surmounted by a pyramid at one end; others again, as the mountains of Jacal and Oyamel, terminate in basaltic columns, crowned with forests. In some regions, the surface of the land is rent by deep fissures, termed barrancas, which occasionally furnish serious obstacles to the formation of roads. It is amongst the rocks of porphyry that the veins of gold and silver are found, from whence such immense supplies of those precious metals have been drawn.

The country is singularly deficient in large rivers; the mountains border so closely on the sea that the streams which pour down their sides are little more than torrents, and the table-land is so encircled by mountains that its waters are gathered into lakes. The Rio Grande del Norte, which forms the northern boundary of the country, is the most important river. It takes its rise amidst the mountains of New Mexico, and, after a course of 1,800 miles, runs into the Gulf of Mexico at the 20th degree of north latitude, the northern point of Tamaulipas. The Santander, the Tampico, and the Panuco or Moctezuma, all flow through the same state to the eastern coast, and, in the state of Tabasco, the rivers Tabasco and Usumasinta contribute their united waters to the same sea.

Still less noticeable are the rivers which empty themselves into the Pacific Ocean. The Rio Balsas in Mechoacan, the Santiago in Jalisco, the Del Fuerte in Sinaloa, and the Yagui in Sonora, are the principal drains by which the western states are relieved of their superfluous waters.

But if the rivers of Mexico are inferior in size and capabilities for navigation, they are unsurpassed for the beauty of their scenery, and the prodigal luxuriance of their banks. Their special features are due to the peculiar character of the soil and the tropical heat of the country through which they pass. At times the streams collecting their waters in some concealed basin break through a rent in the hills of porphyry which hang with precipitous sides over the deep gorges through which the current flows. In other spots, the quiet tide rolls on languidly through forests, which seem to spring out from its bosom; bamboos bending gracefully before the breeze; tall

cabbage palms, their crown the food and their straight trunks the canoe of the wild Indian; the banana, laden with its useful fruit: these, and many others, grow spontaneously by thousands on its banks; whilst the most characteristic feature of the scene is furnished by the parasitical plants which wave in bright festoons from the branches of the trees. The foliage thus blended forms a wall of living green, whence long tendrils dip into the water, as if to drink and carry life to those that bear them.

The lakes with which Mexico abounds, are merely the remains of immense basins of water which once covered a large portion of the plain of the Cordilleras. Lake Chapala, in Jalisco, has an area of 1,300 square miles, double the size of the lake of Constance. The lakes Pascuaro, in Mechoacan; Cayman and Parras, in Cohahuila, are also considerable. The valley of Mexico contains five lakes, of which further mention will presently be made.

The commercial importance of the sea-board of any country can hardly be exaggerated, and in this respect Mexico labours under considerable disadvantages. The mighty influence which has uplifted the Cordilleras has been fatal to the mercantile prosperity of the Pacific shore. Acapulco, by far the finest natural harbour on the western coast, is now almost deserted, although at one time very prosperous. Nor is the Atlantic coast much more highly favoured. Long lagunes and shallows extend for leagues together on the eastern shore of Mexico, whilst violent winds sweep over the gulf and render navigation perilous during their continuance.

To the configuration of the country are due its extraordinary inequalities of climate, as, in consequence