But although the mountains of India greatly surpass the Cordilleras of South

America by their astonishing elevation (which, after being long contested,

has at last been confirmed by accurate measurements), they can not, from

their geographical position, present the same inexhaustible variety of

phenomena by which the latter are characterized. The impression produced by

the grander aspects of nature dies not depend exclusively on height. The

chain of the Himalaya is placed far beyond the limits of the torrid zone,

and scarcely is a solitary palm-tree to be found in the beautiful valleys of

Kumaoun and Garhwal.*

[Footnote] *The absence of palms and tree-ferns on the temperate slopes of

the Himalaya is shown in Don's 'Flora Nepalensis', 1825, and in the

remarkable series of lithographs of Wallich's 'Flora Indica', whose

catalogue contains the enormous number of 7683 Himalaya species, almost all

phanerogamic plants, which have as yet been but imperfectly classified. In

Nepaul (lat. 26 1/2 degrees to 27 1/4 degrees) there has hitherto been

observed only one species of palm, Chamaerops martiana, Wall. ('Plantae

Asiat.', lib. iii., p. 5,211), which is found at the height of 5250 English

feet above the level of the sea, in the shady valley of Bunipa. The

magnificent tree-fern, Alsophila brunoniana, Wall. (of which a stem 48 feet

long has been in the possession of the British Museum since 1831), does not

grow in Nepaul, but is found on the mountains of Silhet, to the northwest of

Calcutta, in lat. 24 degrees 50 minutes. The Nepaul fern, Paranema

cyathoides, Don, formerly known as Sphaeroptera barbata, Wall. ('Plantae

Asiat.', lib. i., p. 42, 48), is indeed, nearly related to Cyathea, a

species of which I have seen in the South American Missions of Caripe,

measuring 33 feet in height; this is not, however, properly speaking a tree.

On the southern slope of the ancient Paropamisus, in the latitudes of 28

degrees and 34 degrees, nature no longer displays the same abundance of

tree-ferns and arborescent grasses, heliconias and orchideous plants, which

in tropical

p 30

regions are to be found even on the highest plateaux of the mountains. On

the slope of the Himalaya, under the shade of the Deodora and the

broad-leaved oak, peculiar to these Indian Alps, the rocks of granite and of

mica schist are covered with vegetable forms almost similar to those which

characterize Europe and Northern Asia. The species are not identical, but

closely analogous in aspect and physiognomy, as, marsh parnassia, and the

prickly species of Ribes.* The chain of the Himalaya is also wanting in the

imposing phenomena of volcanoes, which in the Andes and in the Indian

Archipelago often reveal to the inhabitants, under the most terrific forms,

the existence of the forces pervading the interior of our planet.

[footnote] *Ribes nubicola, R. glaciale, R. grossularia. The species which

compose the vegetation of the Himalaya are four pines, notwithstanding the

assertion of the ancients regarding Eastern Asia (Strabo, lib. 11, p. 510,

Cas.), twenty-five oaks, four birches, two chestnuts, seven maples, twelve

willows, fourteen roses, three species of strawberry, seven species of

Alpine roses ('rhododendra'), one of which attains a height of 20 feet, and

many other northern genera. Large white apes, having black faces, inhabit

the wild chestnut-tree of Kashmir, which grows to a height of 100 feet, in

lat. 33 degrees (see Carl von Hugel's 'Kaschmir', 1840, 2d pt. 249). Among

the Coniferae, we find the Pinus deodwara, or deodara (in Sanscrit,

'dewa-daru', the timber of the gods), which is nearly allied to Pinus

cedrus. Near the limit of perpetual snow flourish the large and showy

flowers of the Gentiana venusta, G. Moorcroftiana, Swertia purpurescens, S.

speciosa, Parnassia armata, P. nubicola, Poenia Emode, Tulipa stellata; and

besides varieties of European genera peculiar to these Indian mountains,

true European species as Leontodon taraxacum, Prunella vulgaris, Galium

aparine, and Thlaspi arvense. The heath mentioned by Saunders, in Turner's

'Travels', and which had been confounded with Calluna vulgaris, is an

Andromeda, a fact of the greatest importance in the geography of Asiatic

plants. If I have made use, in this work, of the unphilosophical

expressions of European genera, 'European' special, 'growing wild in Asia',

etc., it has been in consequence of the old botanical language, which,

instead of the idea of a large dissemination, or, rather, of the coexistence

of organic productions, has dogmatically substituted the false hypothesis of

a migration, which, from predilection for Europe, is further assumed to have

been from west to east.

Moreover, on the southern declivity of the Himalaya, where the ascending

current deposits the exhalations rising from a vigorous Indian vegetation,

the region of perpetual snow begins at an elevation of 11,000 or 12,000 feet

above the level of the sea,* thus setting a limit to the development of

organic

p 31

life in a zone that is nearly 3000 feet lower than that to which it attains

in the equinoctial region of the Cordilleras.

[footnote] *On the southern declivity of the Himalaya, the limit of

perpetual snow is 12,978 feet above the level of the sea; on the northern

declivity, or, rather, on the peaks which rise above the Thibet, or

Tartarian plateau, this limit is at 16,625 feet from 30 1/2 degrees to 32

degrees of latitude, while at the equator, in the Andes of Quito, it is

15,790 feet. Such is the result I have deduced from the combination of

numerous data furnished by Webb, Gerard, Herbert, and Moorcroft. (See my

two memoirs on the mountains of India, in 1816 and 1820, in the 'Ann. de

Chimie et de Physique', t. iii., p. 303; t. xiv., p. 6, 22, 50.) The

greater elevation to which the limit of perpetual snow recedes on the

Tartarian declivity is owing to the radiation of heat from the neighboring

elevated plains, to the purity of the atmosphere, and to the infrequent

formation of snow in an air which is both very cold and very dry.

(Humboldt, 'Asie Centrale', t. iii., p. 281-326.) My opinion on the

difference of height of the snow-line on the two sides of the Himalaya has

the high authority of Colebrooke in its favor. He wrote to me in June,

1824, as follows: "I also find, from the data in my possession, that the

elevation of the line of perpetual snow is 13,000 feet. On the southern

declivity, and at latitude 31 degrees, Webb's measurements give me 13,500

feet, consequently 500 feet more than the height deduced from Captain

Hodgson's observations. Gerard's measurements fully confirm your opinion

that the line of snow is higher on the northern than on the southern side."

It was not until the present year (1840) that we obtained the complete and

collected journal of the brothers Gerard, published under the supervision of

Mr. Lloyd. ('Narrative of a Journey from Cawnpoor to the Boorendo Pass, in

the Himalaya, by Captain Alexander Gerard and John Gerard, edited by George

Lloyd', vol. i., p. 292, 311, 320, 327 and 341.) Many interesting details

regarding some localities may be found in the narrative of 'A Visit to the

Shatool, for the Purpose of determining the Line of Perpetual Snow on the

southern face of the Himalaya, in August', 1822. Unfortunately, however,

these travelers always confound the elevation at which sporadic snow falls

with the maximum of the height that the snow-line attains on the Thibetian

plateau. Captain Gerard distinguishes between the summits that rise in the

middle of the plateau, where he states the elevation of the snow-line to be

between 18,000 and 19,000 feet, and the northern slopes of the chain of the

Himalaya, which border on the defile of the Sutledge, and can radiate but

little heat, owing to the deep ravines with which they are intersected. The

elevation of the village of Tangno is given at only 9300 feet, while that of

the plateau surrounding the sacred lake of Maqasa is 17,000 feet. Captain

Gerard finds the snow-line 500 feet lower on the northern slopes, where the

chain of the Himalaya is broken through, than toward the southern

declivities facing Hindostan, and he there estimates the line of perpetual

snow at 15,000 feet. The most striking differences are presented between

the vegetation on the Thibetian plateau and that characteristic of the

southern slopes of the Himalaya. On the latter the cultivation of grain is

arrested at 9974 feet and even there the corn has often to be cut when the

blades are still green. The extreme limit of forests of tall oaks and

deodars is 11,960 feet; that of dwarf birches, 12,983 feet. On the plains,

Captain Gerard found pastures up to the height of 17,000 feet; the cereals

will grow at 14,100 feet, or even at 18,540 feet; birches with tall stems at

14,100 feet, and copse or brush wood applicable for fuel is found at an

elevation of upward of 17,000 feet, that is to say, 1280 feet and above the

lower limits of the snow-line at the equator, in the province of Quito. It

is very desirable that the 'mean' elevation of the Thibetian plateau, which

I have estimated at only about 8200 feet between the Himalaya and the

Kuen-lun, and the difference in the height of the line of perpetual snow on

the southern and on the northern slopes of the Himalaya, should be again

investigated by travelers who are accustomed to judge of the general

conformation of the land. Hitherto simple calculations have too often been

confounded with actual measurements, and the elevations of isolated summits

with that of the surrounding plateau. (Compare Carl Zimmerman's excellent

Hypsometrical Remarks in his 'Geographischen Analyse der Karte von Inner

Asien', 1841, s. 98.) Lord draws attention to the difference presented by

the two faces of the Himalaya and those of the Alpine chain of Hindoo-Coosh,

with respect to the limits of the snow-line. "The latter chain," he says,

"has the table-land to the south, in consequence of which the snow-line is

higher on the southern side, contrary to what we find to be the case with

respect to the Himalaya, which is bounded on the south by sheltered plains,

as Hindoo-Coosh is on the north." It must, however, be admitted that the

hypsometrical data on which these statements are based require a critical

revision with regard to several of their details; but still they suffice to

establish the main fact, that the remarkable configuration of the land in

Central Asia affords man all that is essential to the maintenance of life,

as habitation, food, and fuel, at an elevation above the level of the sea

which in almost all other parts of the globe is covered with perpetual ice.

We must except the very dry districts of Bolivia, where snow is so rarely

met with, and where Pentland (in 1838) fixed the snow-line at 15,667 feet,

between 16 degrees and 17 3/4 degrees south latitude. The opinion that I

had advanced regarding the difference in the snow-line on the two faces of

the Himalaya has been most fully confirmed by the barometrical observations

of Victor Jacquemont, who fell an early sacrifice to his noble and unwearied

ardor. (See his 'Correspondance pendant son Voyage dans l'Inde', 1828 'a'

1832, liv. 23, p. 290, 296, 299.) "Perpetual snow," says Jacquemont,

"descends lower on the southern than on the northern slopes of the Himalaya,

and the limit constantly rises as we advance to the north of the chain

bordering on India. On the Kionbrong, about 18,317 feet in elevation,

according to Captain Gerard, I was still considerably below the limit of

perpetual snow which I believe to be 19,690 feet in this part of Hindostan."

(This estimate I consider much too high.)

[Footnote continues] The same traveler says, "To whatever height we rise on

the southern declivity of the Himalaya, the climate retains the same

character, and the same division of the seasons as in the plains of India;

the summer solstice being every year marked by the same prevalence of rain

which continues to fall without intermission until the autumnal equinox.

But a new, a totally different climate begins at Kashmir, whose elevation I

estimate to be 5350 feet, nearly equal to that of the cities of Mexico and

Popayan" ('Correspond. de Jacquemont', t. ii., p. 58 et 74). The warm and

humid air of the sea, as Leopold von Buch well observes, is carried by the

monsoons across the plains of India to the skirts of the Himalaya which

arrest its course, and hinder it from diverging to the Thibetian districts

of Ladak and Lassa. Carl von Hugel estimates the elevation of the Valley of

Kashmir above the level of the sea at 5818 feet, and bases his observation

on the determination of the boiling point of water (see theil 11, s. 155,

and 'Journal of Geog. Soc.', vol. vi., p. 215). In this valley, where the

atmosphere is scarcely ever agitated by storms, and in 34 degrees 7 minutes

lat., snow is found, several feet in thickness, from December to March.

p 32

But the countries bordering on the equator possess another advantage, to

which sufficient attention has not hitherto been

p 33

directed. This portion of the surface of the globe affords in the smallest

space the greatest possible variety of impressions from the contemplation of

nature. Among the colossal mountains of Cundinamarea, of Quito, and of

Peru, furrowed by deep ravines, man is enabled to contemplate alike all the

families of plants, and all the stars of the firmament. There, at a single

glance, the eye surveys majestic palms, humid forests of bambusa, and the

varied species of Musaceae, while above these forms of tropical vegetation

appear oaks, medlars, the sweet-brier, and umbelliferous plants, as in our

European homes. There as the traveler turns his eyes to the vault of

heaven, a single glance embraces the constellation of the Southern Cross,

the Magellanic clouds, and the guiding stars of the constellation of the

Bear, as they circle round the arctic pole. There the depths of the earth

and the vaults of heaven display all the richness of their forms and the

variety of their phenomena. There the different climates are ranged the one

above the other, stage by stage, like the vegetable zones, whose succession

they limit; and there the observer may readily trace the laws that regulate

the diminution of heat, as they stand indelibly inscribed on the rocky walls

and abrupt declivities of the Cordilleras.

Not to weary the reader with the details of the phenomena which I long since

endeavored graphically to represent,* I will here limit myself to the

consideration of a few of the general results whose combination constitutes

the 'physical delineation of the torrid zone.' That which, in the vagueness

of our

p 34

impressions, loses all distinctness of form, like some distant mountain

shrouded from view by a vail of mist, is clearly revealed by the light of

mind, which, by its scrutiny into the causes of phenomena, learns to resolve

and analyze their different elements, assigning to each its individual

character. Thus, in the sphere of natural investigation, as in poetry and

painting, the delineation of that which appeals most strongly to the

imagination, derives its collective interest from the vivid truthfulness

with which the individual features are portrayed.

[footnote] *See, generally my 'Essai sur la Geographie des Plantes, et le

Tableau physique des Regions Equinoxiales', 1807, p. 80-88. On the diurnal

and nocturnal variations of temperature, see Plate 9 of my 'Atlas Geogr. et

Phys. du Nouveau Continent'; and the Tables in my work, entitled 'De

distributione Geographica Plantarum, secundum coeli tempriem, et altitudinem

Montium', 1817, p. 90-116; the meteorological portion of my 'Asie Centrale',

t. iii., p. 212, 224; and, finally, the more recent and far more exact

exposition of the variations of temperature experienced in correspondence

with the increase of altitude on the chain of the Andes, given in

Boussingault's Memoir, 'Sur la profondeur a laquelle on trouve, sous les

Tropiques, la couche de Temperature Invariable.' (Ann. de Chimie et de

Physique, 1833, t. liii., p. 225-247.) This treatise contains the

elevations of 128 points, included between the level of the sea and the

declivity of the Antisana (17,900 feet), as well as the mean temperature of

the atmosphere, which varies with the height between 81 degrees and 35

degrees F.

The regions of the torrid zone not only give rise to the most powerful

impressions by their organic richness and their abundant fertility, but they

likewise afford the inestimable advantage of revealing to man, by the

uniformity of the variations of the atmosphere and the development of vital

forces, and by the contrasts of climate and vegetation exhibited at the

different elevations, the invariability of the laws that regulate the course

of the heavenly bodies, reflected, as it were, in terrestrial phenomena.

Let us dwell, then, for a few moments, on the proofs of this regularity,

which is such that it may be submitted to numerical calculation and

computation.

In the burning plains that rise but little above the level of the sea, reign

the families of the banana, the cycas, and the palm, of which the number of

species comprised in the flora of tropical regions has been so wonderfully

increased in the present day by the zeal of botanical travelers. To these

groups succeed, in the Alpine valleys, and the humid and shaded clefts on

the slopes of the Cordilleras, the tree-ferns, whose thick cylindrical

trunks and delicate lace-like foliage stand out in bold relief against the

azure of the sky, and the cinchona, from which we derive the febrifuge bark.

The medicinal strength of this bark is said to increase in proportion to

the degree of moisture imparted to the foliage of the tree by the light

mists which form the upper surface of the clouds resting over the plains.

Every where around, the confines of the forest are encircled by broad bands

of social plants, as the delicate aralia, the thibaudia, and the

myrtle-leaved Andromeda, while the Alpine rose, the magnificent befaria,

weaves a purple girdle round the spiry peaks. In the cold regions of the

Paramos, which is continually exposed to the fury of storms and winds, we

find that flowering shrubs and herbaceous plants, bearing large and

variegated blossoms, have given place to monocotyledons, whose slender

spikes constitute the sole covering of the soil. This is the zone of the

p 35

grasses, one vast savannah extending over the immense mountain plateaux, and

reflecting a yellow, almost golden tinge, to the slopes of the Cordilleras,

on which graze the lama and the cattle domesticated by the European

colonist. Where the naked trachyte rock pierces the grassy turf, and

penetrates into those higher strata of air which are supposed to be less

charged with carbonic acid, we meet only with plants of an inferior

organization, as lichens, lecideas, and the brightly-colored, dust-like

lepraria, scattered around in circular patches. Islets of fresh-fallen

snow, varying in form and extent, arrest the last feeble traces of vegetable

development, and to these succeeds the region of perpetual snow, whose

elevation undergoes but little change, and may be easily determined. It is

but rarely that the elastic forces at work within the interior of our globe

have succeeded in breaking through the spiral domes, which, resplendent in

the brightness of eternal snow, crown the summits of the Cordilleras; and

even where these subterranean forces have opened a permanent communication

with the atmosphere, through circular craters or long fissures, they rarely

send forth currents of lava, but merely eject ignited scoriae, steam,

sulphureted hydrogen gas, and jets of carbonic acid.

In the earliest stages of civilization, the grand and imposing spectacle

presented to the minds of the inhabitants of the tropics could only awaken

feelings of astonishment and awe. It might, perhaps, be supposed, as we

have already said, that the periodical return of the same phenomena, and the

uniform manner in which they arrange themselves in successive groups, would

have enabled man more readily to attain to a knowledge of the laws of

nature; but, as far as tradition and history guide us, we do not find that

any application was made of the advantages presented by these favored

regions. Recent researches have rendered it very doubtful whether the

primitive seat of Hindoo civilization -- one of the most remarkable phases

in the progress of mankind -- was actually within the tropics. Airyana

Vaedjo, the ancient cradle of the Zend, was situated to the northwest of the

upper Indus, and after the great religious schism, that is to say, after the

separation of the Iranians from the Brahminical institution, the language

that had previously been common to them and to the Hindoos assumed among the

latter people (together with the literature, habits, and conditions of

society) an individual form in the Magodha of Madhya Desa,* a district that

is bounded by the great chain

p 36

of Himalaya and the smaller range of the Vindhya.

[footnote] *See, on the Madhjadeca, properly so called, Lassen's excellent

work, entitled 'Indische Alterthumskunde', bd. i., s. 92. The Chinese give

the name of Mo-kie-thi to the southern Bahar, situated to the south of the

Ganges (see 'Foe-Koue-Ki' by, 'Chy-Fa-Hian', 1836, p. 256). Djambu-dwipa is

the name given to the whole of India; but the words also indicate one of the

four Buddhist continents.

In less ancient times the Sanscrit language and civilization advanced toward

the southeast, penetrating further within the torrid zone, as my brother

Wilhelm von Humboldt has shown in his great work on the Kavi and other

languages of analogous structure.*

[Footnote] *'Ueber die Kawi Sprache auf der Insel Java, nebst einer

Einleitung uber die Verschiedenheit des menschlichen Sprachbaues und ihren

Ein fluss auf die geistige Entwickelung des Menschengrshlecht's' von Wilhelm

v. Humboldt, 1836, bd. i., s. 50519.

Notwithstanding the obstacles opposed in northern latitudes to the discovery

of the laws of nature, owing to the excessive complication of phenomena, and

the perpetual local variations and the distribution of organic forms, it is

to the inhabitants of a small section of the temperate zone that the rest of

mankind owe the earliest revelation of an intimate and rational acquaintance

with the forces governing the physical world. Moreover, it is from the same

zone (which is apparently more favorable to the progress of reason, the

softening of manners, and the security of public liberty) that the germs of

civilization have been carried to the regions of the tropics, as much by the

migratory movement of races as by the establishment of colonies, differing

widely in their institution from those of the Phoenicians or Greeks.

In speaking of the influence exercised by the succession of phenomena on the

greater or lesser facility of recognizing the causes producing them, I have

touched upon that important stage of our communion with the external world,

when the enjoyment arising from a knowledge of the laws, and the mutual

connection of phenomena, associates itself with the charm of a simple

contemplation of nature. That which for a long time remains merely an

object of vague intuition, by degrees acquires the certainty of positive

truth; and man, as an immortal poet has said, in our own tongue -- Amid

ceaseless change seeks the unchanging pole.*

[Footnote] *This verse occurs in a poem of Schiller, entitled 'Der

Spaziergang' which first appeared in 1795, in the 'Horen.'

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