Views of Nature

1. p. 1—“The Lake of Tacarigua.”

On advancing through the interior of South America, from the coast of Caracas or of Venezuela towards the Brazilian frontier (from the 10th degree of north latitude to the equator), the traveller first passes a lofty chain of mountains (the littoral chain of Caracas) inclining from west to east; next vast treeless Steppes or plains (Los Llanos), which extend from the foot of the littoral chain to the left bank of the Orinoco; and, lastly, the mountain range which gives rise to the cataracts of Atures and Maypure. This mountain chain, which I have named the Sierra Parime, passes in an easterly direction between the sources of the Rio Branco and Rio Esquibo, in the direction of Dutch and French Guiana. This region, which is the seat of the marvellous myths of the Dorado, and is composed of a mountain mass, divided into numerous gridiron-like ridges, is bounded on the south by the woody plain through which the Rio Negro and the Amazon have formed themselves a channel. Those who would seek further instruction regarding these geographical relations, may compare the large chart of La Cruz Olmedilla (1775), which has served as the basis of nearly all the more modern maps of South America, with that of Columbia, which I drew up in accordance with my own astronomical determinations of place, and published in the year 1825.

The littoral chain of Venezuela is, geographically considered, a portion of the Peruvian Andes. These are divided at the great mountain node of the sources of the Magdalena (lat. 1° 55′ to 2° 20′) into three chains, running to the south of Popayan, the easternmost of which extends into the snowy mountains of Merida. These mountains gradually decline towards the Paramo de las Rosas into the hilly district of Quibor and Tocuyo, which connects the littoral chain of Venezuela with the Cordilleras of Cundinamarca.

This littoral chain extends murally and uninterruptedly from Portocabello to the promontory of Paria. Its mean elevation is scarcely 750 toises, or 4796 English feet; but some few summits, like the Silla de Caracas (also called the Cerro de Avila), 23which is adorned with the purple-flowering Befaria (the red-blossomed American Alpine rose), rise 1350 toises, or 8633 English feet above the level of the sea. The coast of the Terra Firma everywhere bears traces of devastation, giving evidence of the action of the great current which runs from east to west, and which, after the disintegration of the Caribbean Islands, formed the present Sea of the Antilles. The tongues of land of Araya and Chuparipari, and more especially the coasts of Cumana and New Barcelona, present to the geologist a remarkable aspect. The rocky islands of Boracha, Caracas, and Chimanas rise like beacon-towers from the sea, affording evidence of the fearful irruption of the waters against the shattered mountain chain. The Sea of the Antilles may once have been an inland sea, like the Mediterranean, which has suddenly been connected with the ocean. The islands of Cuba, Hayti, and Jamaica still exhibit the remains of the mountains of micaceous schist which formed the northern boundary of this lake. It is a remarkable fact that the highest peaks are situated at the very point where these islands approach one another the closest. It may be conjectured that the principal nucleus of the chain was situated between Cape Tiburon and Morant Point. The height of the copper mountains (montañas de cobre) near Saint Iago de Cuba has not yet been measured, but this range is probably higher than the Blue Mountains of Jamaica (1138 toises, or 7277 English feet), whose elevation somewhat exceeds that of the Pass of St. Gothard. I have already expressed my conjectures more fully regarding the valley-like form of the Atlantic Ocean, and the ancient connection of the continents, in a treatise written at Cumana, entitled Fragment d’un Tableau géologique de l’Amérique méridionale, which appeared in the Journal de Physique, Messidor, an IX. It is remarkable that Columbus himself makes mention, in his official report, of the connection between the course of the equinoctial current and the form of the coast-line of the Greater Antilles.^[H]

The northern and more cultivated portion of the province of Caracas is a mountainous region. The marginal chain is divided, like that of the Swiss Alps, into many ranges, enclosing longitudinal valleys. The most remarkable among these is 24the charming valley of Aragua, which produces an abundance of indigo, sugar, and cotton, and, what is perhaps the most singular of all, even European wheat. The southern margin of this valley is bounded by the beautiful Lake of Valencia, the ancient Indian name of which was Tacarigua. The contrast presented by its opposite shores gives it a striking resemblance to the Lake of Geneva. The barren mountains of Guigue and Guiripa have indeed less grandeur and solemnity of character than the Savoy Alps; but, on the other hand, the opposite shore, which is covered with bananas, mimosæ, and triplaris, far surpasses in picturesque beauty the vineyards of the Pays de Vaud. The lake is 10 leagues, (of which 20 form a degree of the Equator), i.e., about 30 geographical miles, in length, and is thickly studded with small islands, which continually increase in size, owing to the evaporation being greater than the influx of fresh water. Within the last few years several sandbanks have even become true islands, and have acquired the significant name of Las Aparecidas, or the “Newly Appeared.” On the island of Cura the remarkable species of solanum is cultivated, which has edible fruit, and has been described by Willdenow (in his Hortus Berolinensis, 1816, Tab. xxvii.). The elevation of the Lake of Tacarigua above the level of the sea is almost 1400 French feet (according to my measurement, exactly 230 toises, i.e., 1471 English feet) less than the mean height of the valley of Caracas. This lake has several species of fish peculiar to itself,^[I] and ranks among the most beautiful and attractive natural scenes that I am acquainted with in any part of the earth. When bathing, Bonpland and myself were often terrified by the appearance of the Bava, a species of crocodile-lizard (Dragonne?), hitherto undescribed, from three to four feet in length, of repulsive aspect, but harmless to man. We found in the Lake of Valencia a Typha, perfectly identical with the European bulrush, the Typha angustifolia—a singular and highly important fact in reference to the geography of plants.

In the valleys of Aragua, skirting the lake, both varieties of the sugar-cane are cultivated, viz., the common Caña criolla, and the species newly introduced from the South Sea, the Caña de Otaheiti. The latter variety is of a far lighter and 25more beautiful green, and a field of it may be distinguished from the common sugar-cane at a great distance. Cook and George Forster were the first to describe it; but it would appear, from Forster’s treatise on the edible plants of the South Sea Islands, that they were but little acquainted with the true value of this important product. Bougainville brought it to the Isle of France, whence it passed to Cayenne and (subsequently to the year 1792) to Martinique, Saint Domingo or Haiti, and many of the Lesser Antilles. The enterprising but unfortunate Captain Bligh transported it, together with the bread-fruit tree, to Jamaica. From Trinidad, an island contiguous to the continent, the new sugar-cane of the South Sea passed to the neighbouring coasts of Caracas. Here it has become of greater importance than the bread-fruit tree, which will probably never supersede so valuable and nutritious a plant as the banana. The Tahitian sugar-cane is more succulent than the common species, which is generally supposed to be a native of Eastern Asia. It likewise yields one-third more sugar on the same area than the Caña criolla, which is thinner in its stalk, and more crowded with joints. As, moreover, the West Indian Islands are beginning to suffer great scarcity of fuel (on the island of Cuba the sugar-pans are heated with orange-wood), the new plant acquires additional value from the fact of its yielding a thicker and more ligneous cane (bagaso). If the introduction of this new product had not been nearly simultaneous with the outbreak of the sanguinary Negro war in St. Domingo, the prices of sugar in Europe would have risen even higher than they did, owing to the interruption occasioned to agriculture and trade. The important question which here arises, whether the sugar-cane of Otaheiti, when removed from its indigenous soil, will not gradually degenerate and merge into the common sugar-cane, has been decided in the negative, from the experience hitherto obtained on this subject. In the island of Cuba a caballeria, that is to say, an area of 34,969 square toises (nearly 33 English acres), produces 870 cwt. of sugar, if it be planted with the Tahitian sugar-cane. It is remarkable enough that this important product of the South Sea Islands should be cultivated precisely in that portion of the Spanish colonies which is most remote from the South Sea. The voyage 26from the Peruvian shore to Otaheiti may be made in twenty-five days, and yet, at the period of my travels in Peru and Chili, the Tahitian sugar-cane was not yet known in those provinces. The natives of Easter Island, who suffer great distress from want of fresh water, drink the juice of the sugar-cane, and, what is very remarkable in a physiological point of view, likewise sea-water. On the Society, Friendly, and Sandwich Islands, the light green and thick stemmed sugar-cane is everywhere cultivated.

In addition to the Caña de Otaheiti and the Caña criolla, a reddish African sugar-cane is cultivated in the West Indies, which is known as the Caña de Guinea. It is less succulent than the common Asiatic variety, but its juice is esteemed especially well adapted for the preparation of rum.

In the province of Caracas the light green of the Tahitian sugar-cane forms a beautiful contrast with the dark shade of the cacao plantations. Few tropical trees have so thick a foliage as the Theobroma Cacao. This noble tree thrives best in hot and humid valleys. Extreme fertility of soil and insalubrity of atmosphere are as inseparably connected in South America as in Southern Asia. Nay, it has even been observed that in proportion as the cultivation of the land increases, and the woods are removed, the soil and the climate become less humid, and the cacao plantations thrive less luxuriantly. But while they diminish in numbers in the province of Caracas, they spread rapidly in the eastern provinces of New Barcelona and Cumana, more especially in the humid woody region lying between Cariaco and the Golfo Triste.

2. p. 1—“The natives term this phenomenon ‘banks.’”

The Llanos of Caracas are covered with a widely-extended formation of ancient conglomerate. On passing from the valleys of Aragua over the most southern range of the coast chain of Guigue and Villa de Cura, descending towards Parapara, the traveller meets successively with strata of gneiss and micaceous schist, a probably Silurian transition rock of argillaceous schist and black limestone; serpentine and greenstone in detached spheroidal masses; and lastly, on the margin of the great plain, small elevations of augitic amygdaloid and porphyritic schist. These hills between Parapara and Ortiz appear to me to be produced by volcanic eruptions on the 27old sea-shore of the Llanos. Further to the north, rise the far-famed cavernous and grotesquely-shaped elevations known as the Morros de San Juan, which form a species of devil’s dyke, the grain of which is crystalline, like upheaved dolomite. They are, therefore, to be regarded rather as portions of the shore than as islands in the ancient gulf. I consider the Llanos to have been a gulf, for when their inconsiderable elevation above the present sea level, the adaptation of their form to the rotation current, running from east to west, and the lowness of the eastern shore between the mouth of the Orinoco and the Essequibo are taken into account, it can scarcely be doubted that the sea once overflowed the whole of this basin between the coast chain and the Sierra de la Parime, extending westward to the mountains of Merida and Pamplona (in the same manner as it probably passed through the plains of Lombardy to the Cottian and Pennine Alps). Moreover, the inclination or line of strike of these Llanos is directed from west to east. Their elevation at Calabozo, a distance of 100 geographical (400 English) miles from the sea, scarcely amounts to 30 toises, or 192 English feet; consequently 15 toises (96 English feet) less than the elevation of Pavia, and 45 toises (288 English feet) less than that of Milan in the plain of Lombardy between the Swiss Lepontine Alps and the Ligurian Apennines. This conformation of the land reminds us of Claudian’s expression, “curvata tumore parvo planities.” The surface of the Llanos is so perfectly horizontal that in many parts over an area of some 480 English square miles, not a single point appears elevated one foot above the surrounding level. When it is further borne in mind that there is a total absence of all shrubs, and that in some parts, as in the Mesa de Pavones, there is not even a solitary palm-tree to be seen, it may easily be supposed that this sea-like and dreary plain presents a most singular aspect. Far as the eye can range, it scarcely rests on any object elevated many inches above the general level. If the boundary of the horizon did not continually present an undefined flickering and undulating outline, owing to the condition of the lower strata of air, and the refraction of light, solar elevations might be determined by the sextant above the margin of the plain as above the horizon of the sea. This perfect flatness of the ancient sea-bottom renders the banks even more striking. They are 28composed of broken floetz-strata, which rise abruptly about two or three feet above the surrounding level, and extend uniformly over a length of from 10 to 12 geographical (i.e., 40 to 48 English) miles. It is here that the small rivers of the Steppe take their origin.

On our return from the Rio Negro, we frequently met with traces of landslips in passing over the Llanos of Barcelona. We here found in the place of elevated banks, isolated strata of gypsum lying from 3 to 4 toises, or 19 to 25 English feet, below the contiguous rock. Further westward, near the confluence of the River Caura and the Orinoco, a large tract of thickly grown forest land to the east of the Mission of San Pedro de Alcantara, fell in after an earthquake in the year 1790. A lake was immediately formed in the plain, which measured upwards of 300 toises (1919 feet) in diameter. The lofty trees, as the Desmanthus, Hymenæa, and Malpighia, retained their verdure and foliage for a long time after their submersion.

3. p. 2—“A shoreless ocean seems spread before us.”

The distant aspect of the Steppe is the more striking when the traveller emerges from dense forests, where his eye has been familiarised to a limited prospect and luxuriant natural scenery. I shall ever retain an indelible impression of the effect produced on my mind by the Llanos, when, on our return from the Upper Orinoco, they first broke on our view from a distant mountain, opposite the mouth of the Rio Apure, near the Hato del Capuchino. The last rays of the setting sun illumined the Steppe, which seemed to swell before us like some vast hemisphere, while the rising stars were refracted by the lower stratum of the atmosphere. When the plain has been excessively heated by the vertical rays of the sun, the evolution of the radiating heat, the ascent of currents of air, and the contact of atmospheric strata of unequal density, continue throughout the night.

4. p. 2—“The naked stony crust.”

The deserts of Africa and Asia acquire a peculiar character from the frequent occurrence of immense tracts of land, covered by one flat uniform surface of naked rock. In the Scha-mo, which separates Mongolia and the mountain chain of Ulangom and Malakha-Oola from the north-west 29part of China, such rocky banks are termed Tsy. In the woody plains of the Orinoco they are found to be surrounded with the most luxuriant vegetation.^[J] In the midst of these flat, tabular masses of granite and syenite, several thousands of feet in diameter, presenting merely a few scattered lichens, we find in the forests, or on their margins, little islands of light soil, covered with low and ever-flowering plants, having the appearance of small gardens. The monks settled on the Upper Orinoco, singularly enough regard the whole of these horizontal naked stony plains, when extending over a considerable area, as conducive to fevers and other diseases. Many of the villages belonging to the mission have been transferred to other spots on account of the general prevalence of this opinion. Do these stony flats (laxas) act chemically on the atmosphere or influence it only by means of a greater radiation of heat?

5. p. 2—“Compared with the Llanos and Pampas of South America, or even with the Prairies on the Missouri.”

Our physical and geognostic knowledge of the western mountain region of North America has recently been enriched by the acquisition of many accurate data yielded by the admirable labours of the enterprising traveller Major Long, and his companion Edwin James, but more especially by the comprehensive investigations of Captain Frémont. The knowledge thus established clearly corroborates the accuracy of the different facts which in my work on New Spain I could merely advance as hypothetical conjectures regarding the northern plains and mountains of America. In natural history, as well as in historical research, facts remain isolated until by long-continued investigation they are brought into connection with each other.

The eastern shore of the United States of North America inclines from south-west to north-east, as does the Brazilian coast south of the equator from the Rio de la Plata to Olinda. On both these regions there rise, at a short distance from the coast line, two ranges of mountains more nearly parallel to each other than to the western Andes, (the Cordilleras of Chili and Peru), or to the North Mexican chain of the Rocky Mountains. The South American or Brazilian mountain 30system, forms an isolated group, the highest points of which, Itacolumi and Itambe, do not rise above an elevation of 900 toises, or 5755 English feet. The eastern portion of the ridge most contiguous to the sea is the only part that follows a regular inclination from S.S.W. to N.N.E., increasing in breadth and diminishing in general elevation as it approaches further westward. The chain of the Parecis hills approximates to the rivers Itenes and Guaporé, in the same manner as the mountains of Aguapehi and San Fernando (south of Villabella) approach the lofty Andes of Cochabamba and Santa Cruz de la Sierra.

There is no direct connection between the two mountain systems of the Atlantic and South-sea coasts (the Brazilian and the Peruvian Cordilleras); Western Brazil being separated from Eastern or Upper Peru by the low lands of the province of Chiquitos, which is a longitudinal valley that inclines from north to south, and communicates both with the plains of the Amazon and of the Rio de la Plata. In these regions, as in Poland and Russia, a ridge of land, sometimes imperceptible (termed in Slavonic Uwaly), forms the line of separation between different rivers; as for instance, between the Pilcomayo and Madeira, between the Aguapehi and Guaporé, and between the Paraguay and the Rio Topayos. The ridge (seuil) extends from Chayanta and Pomabamba (19°–20° lat.,) in a south-easterly direction, and after intersecting the depressed tracts of the province of Chiquitos, (which has become almost unknown to geographers since the expulsion of the Jesuits,) forms to the north-east, where some scattered mountains are again to be met with, the divortia aquarum at the sources of the Baures and near Villabella (15°–17° lat.)

This water-line of separation which is so important to the general intercourse and growing civilization of different nations corresponds in the northern hemisphere of South America with a second line of demarcation (2°–3° lat.) which separates the district of the Orinoco from that of the Rio Negro and the Amazon. These elevations or risings in the midst of the plains (terræ tumores, according to Frontinus) may almost be regarded as undeveloped mountain-systems, designed to connect two apparently isolated groups, the Sierra Parime and the Brazilian highlands, to the Andes chain of 31Timana and Cochabamba. These relations, to which very little attention has hitherto been directed, form the basis of my division of South America into three depressions or basins, viz., those of the Orinoco in its lower course, of the Amazon, and of the Rio de la Plata. Of these three basins, the exterior ones, as I have already observed, are Steppes or Prairies; but the central one between the Sierra Parime and the Brazilian chain of mountains must be regarded as a wooded plain or Hylæa.

In endeavouring by a few equally brief touches to give a sketch of the natural features of North America, we must first glance at the chain of the Andes, which, narrow at its origin, soon increases in height and breadth as it follows an inclination from south-east to north-west, passing through Panama, Veragua, Guatimala, and New Spain. This range of mountains, formerly the seat of an ancient civilization, presents a like barrier to the general current of the sea between the tropics, and to a more rapid intercommunication between Europe, Western Africa, and Eastern Asia. From the 17th degree of latitude at the celebrated Isthmus of Tehuantepec, the chain deflects from the shores of the Pacific, and inclining from south to north becomes an inland Cordillera. In Northern Mexico, the Crane Mountains (Sierra de las Grullas) constitute a portion of the Rocky Mountains. On their western declivity rise the Columbia and the Rio Colorado of California; on the eastern side the Rio Roxo of Natchitoches, the Canadian river, the Arkansas, and the shallow river Platte, which latter has recently been converted by some ignorant geographers, into a Rio de la Plata, or a river yielding silver. Between the sources of these rivers rise in the parallels of 37° 20′ and 40° 13′ lat., three huge peaks composed of granite, containing little mica, but a large proportion of hornblende. These have been respectively named Spanish Peak, James or Pike’s Peak, and Big Horn or Long’s Peak.^[K] Their elevation exceeds that of the highest summits of the North Mexican Andes, which indeed nowhere attain the height of the line of perpetual snow from the parallels of 18° and 19° lat., or from the group of Orizaba, (2717 toises, or 17,374 English feet), and of Popocatepetl (2771 toises, or 17,720 English feet) to Santa Fé and Taos in New Mexico. 32James’ Peak (38° 48′ lat.) is said to have an elevation of 11,497 English feet. Of this only 8537 feet have been determined by trigonometrical measurement, the remainder being deduced in the absence of barometrical observations, from uncertain calculations of the declivity or fall of rivers. As it is scarcely ever possible, even at the level of the sea, to conduct a purely trigonometrical measurement, determinations of impracticable heights are always in part barometrical. Measurements of the fall of rivers, of their rapidity and of the length of their course, are so deceptive, that the plain at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, more especially near those summits mentioned in the text, was, before the important expedition of Captain Frémont, estimated sometimes at 8000 and sometimes at 3000 feet above the level of the sea.^[L] From a similar deficiency of barometrical measurements, the true height of the Himalaya remained for a long time uncertain; now, however, science has made such advances in India, that when Captain Gerard had ascended on the Tarhigang, near the Sutledge, north of Shipke, to the height of 19,411 feet, he still had, after having broken three barometers, four equally correct ones remaining.^[M]

Frémont, in the expedition which he made between the years 1842 and 1844, at the command of the United States Government, discovered and measured barometrically the highest peak of the whole chain of the Rocky Mountains to the north-north-west of Spanish, James’, Long’s, and Laramie’s Peaks. This snow-covered summit, which belongs to the group of the Wind River Mountains, bears the name of Frémont’s Peak on the great chart published under the direction of Colonel Abert, chief of the topographical department at Washington. This point is situated in the parallel of 43° 10′ north lat., and 110° 7′ west long., and therefore nearly 5° 30′ north of Spanish Peak. The elevation of Frémont’s Peak, which according to direct measurement is 13,568 feet, must therefore exceed by 2072 feet that given by Long to James’ Peak, which would appear from its position to be identical with Pike’s Peak, as given in the map above referred to. The Wind River Mountains constitute the dividing ridge (divortia aquarum) between the two seas. “From the summit,” 33says Captain Frémont in his official report,^[N] “we saw on the one side numerous lakes and streams, the sources of the Rio Colorado, which carries its waters through the Californian Gulf to the South Sea; on the other, the deep valley of the Wind River, where lie the sources of the Yellowstone River, one of the main branches of the Missouri which unites with the Mississippi at St. Louis. Far to the north-west we could just discover the snowy heads of the Trois Tetons, which give rise to the true sources of the Missouri not far from the primitive stream of the Oregon or Columbia river, which is known under the name of Snake River, or Lewis Fork.”

To the surprise of the adventurous travellers, the summit of Frémont’s Peak was found to be visited by bees. It is probable that these insects, like the butterflies which I found at far higher elevations in the chain of the Andes, and also within the limits of perpetual snow, had been involuntarily drawn thither by ascending currents of air. I have even seen large winged lepidoptera, which had been carried far out to sea by land-winds, drop on the ship deck at a considerable distance from land in the South Sea.

Frémont’s map and geographical researches embrace the immense tract of land extending from the confluence of Kanzas River with the Missouri, to the cataracts of the Columbia and the Missions of Santa Barbara and Pueblo de los Angeles in New California, presenting a space amounting to 28 degrees of longitude (about 1360 miles) between the 34th and 45th parallels of north latitude. Four hundred points have been hypsometrically determined by barometrical measurements, and for the most part, astronomically: so that it has been rendered possible to delineate the profile above the sea’s level of a tract of land measuring 3,600 miles with all its inflections, extending from the north of Kanzas River to Fort Vancouver and to the coasts of the South Sea (almost 720 miles more than the distance from Madrid to Tobolsk). As I believe I was the first who attempted to represent, in geognostic profile, the configuration of entire countries, as the Spanish Peninsula, the highland of Mexico, and the Cordilleras of South America (for the half-perspective 34projections of the Siberian traveller, the Abbé Chappe,^[O] were based on mere and for the most part on very inaccurate estimates of the falls of rivers); it has afforded me special satisfaction to find the graphical method of representing the earth’s configuration in a vertical direction, that is, the elevation of solid over fluid parts, achieved on so vast a scale. In the mean latitudes of 37° to 43° the Rocky Mountains present, besides the great snow-crowned summits, whose height may be compared to that of the Peak of Teneriffe, elevated plateaux of an extent scarcely to be met with in any other part of the world, and whose breadth from east to west is almost twice that of the Mexican highlands. From the range of the mountains, which begin a little westward of Fort Laramie, to the further side of the Wahsatch Mountains, the elevation of the soil is uninterruptedly maintained from five to upwards of seven thousand feet above the sea’s level; nay, this elevated portion occupies the whole space between the true Rocky Mountains and the Californian snowy coast range from 34° to 45° north latitude. This district, which is a kind of broad longitudinal valley, like that of the lake of Titicaca, has been named The Great Basin by Joseph Walker and Captain Frémont, travellers well acquainted with these western regions. It is a terra incognita of at least 8000 geographical (or 128,000 English) square miles, arid, almost uninhabited, and full of salt lakes, the largest of which is 3940 Parisian (or 4200 English) feet above the level of the sea, and is connected with the narrow Lake Utah,^[P] into which the “Rock River” (Timpan Ogo in the Utah language) pours its copious stream. Father Escalante, in his wanderings from Santa Fé del Nuevo Mexico to Monterey in New California, discovered Frémont’s “Great Salt Lake” in 1776, and confounding together the river and the lake, called it Laguna de Timpanogo. Under this name I inserted it in my map of Mexico, which gave rise to much uncritical discussion regarding the assumed non-existence of a large inland salt lake,^[Q]—a 35question previously mooted by the learned American traveller Tanner. Gallatin expressly says in his memoir on the aboriginal races^[R]—“General Ashley and Mr. J. S. Smith have found the Lake Timpanogo in the same latitude and longitude nearly as had been assigned to it in Humboldt’s Atlas of Mexico.”

I have purposely dwelt at length on these considerations regarding the remarkable elevation of the soil in the region of the Rocky Mountains, since by its extension and height it undoubtedly exercises a great, although hitherto unappreciated influence on the climate of the northern half of the new continent, both in its southern and eastern portions. On this vast and uniformly elevated plateau Frémont found the water covered with ice every night in the month of August. Nor is the configuration of the land less important when considered in reference to the social condition and progress of the great North American United States. Although the mountain range which divides the waters attains a height nearly equal to that of the passes of Mount Simplon (6170 Parisian or 6576 English feet), Mount Gothard (6440 Parisian or 6863 English feet), and the great St. Bernard (7476 Parisian or 7957 English feet), the ascent is so prolonged and gradual that no impediments oppose a general intercourse by means of vehicles and carriages of every kind between the Missouri and Oregon territories, between the Atlantic States, and the new settlements on the Oregon (or Columbia) river, or between the coast-lands lying opposite to Europe on the one side of the continent, and to China on the other. The distance from Boston to the old settlement of Astoria on the Pacific at the mouth of the Oregon when measured in a direct line, and taking into account the difference of longitude, is 550 geographical, i.e., 2200 English miles, or one-sixth less than the distance between Lisbon and Katherinenburg in the Ural district. On account of this gentle ascent of the elevated plains leading from the Missouri to California and the Oregon territory (all the resting-places measured between the Fort and River Lamarie on the northern branch of the Platte river to Fort Hall on the Lewis Fork of the Columbia, being situated at an elevation of from five to upwards of seven thousand feet, and that in Old Park even at the height of 9760 Parisian or 10,402 English feet!), considerable 36difficulty has been experienced in determining the culminating point, or that of the divortia aquarum. It is south of the Wind River Mountains, about midway between the Mississippi and the coast line of the Southern Ocean, and is situated at an elevation of 7490 feet, or only 480 feet lower than the pass of the Great Bernard. The emigrants call this culminating point the South Pass.^[S] It is situated in a pleasant region, embellished by a profusion of artemisiæ, especially A. tridentata (Nuttall), and varieties of asters and cactuses, which cover the micaceous slate and gneiss rocks. Astronomical determinations place its latitude in the parallel of 42° 24′, and its longitude in that of 109° 24′ W. Adolf Erman has already drawn attention to the fact, that the line of strike of the great east-Asiatic Aldanian mountain-chain, which separates the basin of the Lena from the rivers flowing towards the Great Southern Ocean, if extended in the form of a great circle on the surface of the globe, passes through many of the summits of the Rocky Mountains between 40° and 55° north lat. “An American and an Asiatic mountain-chain,” he remarks, “appear therefore to be only portions of one and the same fissure erupted by the shortest channels.”^[T]

The western high mountain coast chain of the Californian maritime Alps, the Sierra Nevada de California, is wholly distinct from the Rocky Mountains, which sink towards the Mackenzie River (that remains covered with ice for a great portion of the year), and from the high table land on which rise individual snow-covered peaks. However injudicious the choice of the appellation of Rocky Mountains may be, when applied to the most northerly prolongation of the Mexican central chain, I do not deem it expedient to substitute for it the denomination of the Oregon Chain, as has frequently been attempted. These mountains do indeed give rise to the sources of three main branches constituting the great Oregon or Columbia river (viz., Lewis’, Clarke’s, and North Fork); but this mighty stream also intersects the chain of the ever snow-crowned maritime Alps of California. The name of Oregon Territory is also employed, politically and officially, to designate the lesser territory of land west of the 37coast chain, where Fort Vancouver and the Walahmutti settlements are situated; and it would therefore seem better to abstain from applying the name of Oregon either to the central or to the coast chain. This denomination, moreover, led the celebrated geographer Malte-Brun into a misconception of the most remarkable kind. He read in an old Spanish chart the following passage:—“And it is still unknown (y aun se ignora) where the source of this river” (now called the Columbia) “is situated,” and he believed that the word ignora signified the name of the Oregon.^[U]

The rocks which give rise to the cataracts of the Columbia at the point where the river breaks through the chain, mark the prolongation of the Sierra Nevada of California from the 44th to the 47th degree of latitude.^[V] In this northern prolongation of the chain lie the three colossal elevations of Mount Jefferson, Mount Hood, and Mount St. Helen’s, which rise 14,540 Parisian (or 15,500 English) feet above the sea-level. The height of this coast chain or range far exceeds therefore that of the Rocky Mountains. “During an eight months’ journey along these maritime Alps,” says Captain Frémont,^[W] “we were constantly within sight of snow-covered summits; and while we were able to cross the Rocky Mountains through the South Pass at an elevation of 7027 feet, we found that the passes in the maritime range, which is divided into several parallel chains, were more than 2000 feet higher”—and therefore only 1170 (English) feet below the summit of Mount Etna. It is also a very remarkable fact, and one which reminds us of the relations of the eastern and western Cordilleras of Chili, that volcanoes still active are only found in the Californian chain which lies in the closest proximity to the sea. The conical mountains of Regnier and of St. Helen’s are almost invariably observed to emit smoke; and on the 23rd of November, 1843, the latter of these volcanoes erupted a mass of ashes which covered the shores of the Columbia for a distance of forty miles, like a fall of snow. To the volcanic Californian chain belong also in the far north of Russian America, Mount Elias (according to La Pérouse 1980 toises, or 12,660 feet, and according to Malaspina 2792 toises, or 17,850 feet in height), and Mount Fair 38Weather (Cerro de Buen Tiempo, 2304 toises, or 14,733 feet high). Both these conical mountains are regarded as still active volcanoes. Frémont’s expedition, which has proved alike useful in reference to botany and geognosy, likewise collected volcanic products in the Rocky Mountains (as scoriaceous basalt, trachyte, and true obsidian), and discovered an old extinct crater somewhat to the east of Fort Hall (43° 2′ north lat., and 112° 28′ west long.), but no traces of any still active volcanoes emitting lava and ashes, were to be met with. We must not confound with these the hitherto unexplained phenomenon termed smoking hills, côtes brûlées, and terrains ardens, in the language of the English settlers and the natives who speak French. “Rows of low conical hills,” says the accurate observer M. Nicollet, “are almost periodically, and sometimes for two or three years continually, covered with dense black smoke, unaccompanied by any visible flames. This phenomenon is more particularly noticed in the territory of the Upper Missouri, and still nearer to the eastern declivity of the Rocky Mountains, where there is a river named by the natives Mankizitah-watpa, or the river of smoking earth. Scorified pseudo-volcanic products, a kind of porcelain jasper, are found in the vicinity of the smoking hills.”

Since the expedition of Lewis and Clarke an opinion has generally prevailed that the Missouri deposits a true pumice on its banks; but here white masses of a delicate cellular texture have been mistaken for that substance. Professor Ducatel was of opinion that the phenomenon which is chiefly observed in the chalk formation, was owing to “the decomposition of water by sulphur pyrites and to a reaction on the brown coal floetzes.”^[X]

If before we close these general remarks regarding the configuration of North America we once more cast a glance at those regions which separate the two diverging coast chains from the central chain, we shall find in strong contrast, on the West, between that central chain and the Californian Alps of the Pacific, an arid and uninhabited elevated plateau nearly six thousand feet above the sea; and in the East, between the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanies. (whose highest points, Mount Washington and Mount Marcy, rise, 39according to Lyell, to the respective heights, of 6652 and 5400 feet,) we see the richly watered, fruitful, and thickly-inhabited basin of the Mississippi, at an elevation of from four to six hundred feet, or more than twice that of the plains of Lombardy. The hypsometrical character of this eastern valley, or in other words, its relation to the sea’s level, has only very recently been explained by the admirable labours of the talented French astronomer Nicollet, unhappily lost to science by a premature death. His great chart of the Upper Mississippi, executed between the years 1836 and 1840, was based on two hundred and forty astronomical determinations of latitude, and one hundred and seventy barometrical determinations of elevation. The plain which encloses the valley of the Mississippi is identical with that of northern Canada, and forms part of one and the same depressed basin, extending from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Sea.^[Y] Wherever the low land falls in undulations, and slight elevations which still retain their un-English appellation of côteaux des prairies, côteaux des bois, occur in connected rows between the parallels of 47° and 48° north lat., these rows and gentle undulations of the ground separate the waters between Hudson’s Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Such a line of separation between the waters is formed, north of Lake Superior or Kichi Gummi, by the Missabay Heights, and further west by the elevations known as Hauteurs des Terres, in which are situated the true sources of the Mississippi, one of the largest rivers in the world, and which were not discovered till the year 1832. The highest of these chains of hills hardly attains an elevation of from 1500 to 1600 feet. From its mouth (the old French Balize) to St. Louis, somewhat to the south of its confluence with the Missouri, the Mississippi has a fall of only 380 feet, notwithstanding that the itinerary distance between these two points exceeds 1280 miles. The surface of Lake Superior lies at an elevation of 618 feet, and as its depth in the neighbourhood of the island of Magdalena is fully 790 feet, its bottom must be 172 feet below the surface of the ocean.^[Z]

Beltrami, who in 1825 separated himself from Major Long’s 40expedition, boasted that he had found the sources of the Mississippi in Lake Cass. The river passes, in its upper course, through four lakes, the second of which is the one referred to, while the outermost one, Lake Istaca (47° 13′ north lat., and 95° west long.), was first recognised as the true source of the Mississippi, in 1832, in the expedition of Schoolcraft and Lieutenant Allen. This stream, which subsequently becomes so mighty, is only 17 feet in width, and 15 inches deep, when it issues from the singular horse-shoe-shaped Lake Istaca. The local relations of this river were first fully established on a basis of astronomical observations of position by the scientific expedition of Nicollet, in the year 1836. The height of the sources, that is to say, of the last access of water received by Lake Istaca from the ridge of separation, called Hauteur de Terre, is 1680 feet above the level of the sea. Near this point, and at the southern declivity of the same separating ridge, lies Elbow Lake, the source of the small Red River of the north, which empties itself, after many windings, into Hudson’s Bay. The Carpathian Mountains exhibit similar relations in reference to the origin of the rivers which empty themselves into the Baltic and the Black Sea. M. Nicollet gave the names of celebrated astronomers, opponents as well as friends, with whom he had become acquainted in Europe, to the twenty small lakes which combine together to form narrow groups in the southern and western regions of Lake Istaca. His atlas is thus converted into a geographical album, reminding one of the botanical album of the Flora Peruviana of Ruiz and Pavon, in which the names of new families of plants were made to accord with the Court Calendar, and the various alterations made in the Oficiales de la Secretaria.

The east of the Mississippi is still occupied by dense forests; the west by prairies only, on which the buffalo (Bos Americanus) and the musk ox (Bos moschatus) pasture. These two species of animals, the largest of the new world, furnish the nomadic tribes of the Apaches-Llaneros and Apaches-Lipanos with the means of nourishment. The Assiniboins occasionally slay from seven to eight hundred bisons in the course of a few days in the artificial enclosures constructed for the purpose of driving together the wild 41herds, and known as bison parks.^[AA] The American bison, called by the Mexicans Cibolo, is killed chiefly on account of the tongue, which is regarded as a special delicacy. This animal is not a mere variety of the aurochs of the old world; although, like other species of animals, as for instance the elk (Cervus alces) and the reindeer (Cervus tarandus), no less than the stunted inhabitants of the polar regions, it may be regarded as common to the northern portions of all continents, and as affording a proof of their former long existing connection. The Mexicans apply to the European ox the Aztec term quaquahue, or horned animal, from quaquahuitl, a horn. The huge ox-horns which have been found in ancient Mexican buildings near Cuernavaca, south-west of the capital of Mexico, appear to me to belong to the bison. The Canadian bison can be used for agricultural labour, and will breed with the European cattle, although it is uncertain whether the hybrid thus engendered is capable of propagating its species. Albert Gallatin, who, before his appearance in Europe as a distinguished diplomatist, had acquired by personal observation a considerable amount of information regarding the uncultivated parts of the United States, assures us that the fruitfulness of the mixed breed of the American buffalo and European cattle is an undoubted fact: “the mixed breed,” he writes, “was quite common fifty years ago in some of the north-western counties of Virginia, and the cows, the issue of that mixture, propagated like all others.” “I do not remember,” he further adds, “that full-grown buffaloes were tamed; but dogs would at that time occasionally bring in the young bison-calves, which were reared and bred with European cows. At Monongahela all the cattle for a long time were of this mixed breed. It was said, however, that the cows yielded but little milk.” The favourite food of the buffalo is the Tripsacum dactyloides (known as buffalo-grass in North Carolina) and a hitherto undescribed species of clover allied to the Trifolium repens, and designated by Barton as Trifolium bisonicum.

I have elsewhere^[AB] drawn attention to the fact, that according to a passage of the trustworthy Gomara^[AC], there 42lived, as late as the sixteenth century, an Indian tribe in the north-west of Mexico, in 40° north lat., whose greatest wealth consisted in hordes of tamed buffaloes (bueyes con una giba). Yet, notwithstanding the possibility of taming the buffalo, and the abundance of milk it yields, and notwithstanding the herds of Lamas in the Peruvian Cordilleras, no pastoral tribes were met with on the discovery of America. Nor does history afford any evidence of the existence, at any period, of this intermediate stage of national development. It is also a remarkable fact that the North American bison or buffalo has exerted an influence on geographical discoveries in pathless mountain districts. These animals advance in herds of many thousands in search of a milder climate, during winter, in the countries south of the Arkansas river. Their size and cumbrous forms render it difficult for them to cross high mountains on these migratory courses, and a well-trodden buffalo-path is therefore followed wherever it is met with, as it invariably indicates the most convenient passage across the mountains. Thus buffalo-paths have indicated the best tracks for passing over the Cumberland Mountains in the south-western parts of Virginia and Kentucky, and over the Rocky Mountains, between the sources of the Yellowstone and Plate rivers, and between the southern branch of the Columbia and the Californian Rio Colorado. European settlements have gradually driven the buffalo from the eastern portions of the United States. Formerly these migratory animals passed the banks of the Mississippi and the Ohio, advancing far beyond Pittsburgh.^[AD]

From the granitic rocks of Diego Ramirez and the deeply-intersected district of Terra del Fuego (which in the east contains silurian schist, and in the west, the same schist metamorphosed into granite by the action of subterranean fire,)^[AE] to the North Polar Sea, the Cordilleras extend over a distance of more than 8000 miles. Although not the loftiest, they are the longest mountain chain in the world, being upheaved from one fissure, which runs in the direction of a meridian from pole to pole, and exceeding in linear 43extent the distance which, in the old continent, separates the Pillars of Hercules from the Icy Cape of the Tschuktches, in the north-east of Asia. Where the Andes are divided into several parallel chains, those lying nearest the sea are found to be the seat of the most active volcanoes; and it has moreover been repeatedly observed that when the phenomenon of an eruption of subterranean fire ceases in one mountain chain, it breaks forth in some other parallel range. The cones of eruption usually follow the direction of the axis of the chain; but in the Mexican table-land, the active volcanoes are situated on a transverse fissure, running from sea to sea, in a direction from east and west.^[AF] Wherever the upheaval of mountain masses in the folding of the ancient crust of the earth has opened a communication with the fused interior, volcanic activity continued to be exhibited on the murally upheaved mass by means of the ramification of fissures. That which we call a mountain chain has not been raised to its present elevation, or manifested as it now appears, at one definite period; for we find that rocks, varying considerably in age, have been superimposed on one another, and have penetrated towards the surface through early formed channels. The diversity observable in rocks is owing to the outpouring and upheaval of rocks of eruption, as well as to the complicated and slow process of metamorphism going on in fissures filled with vapour, and conducive to the conduction of heat.

The following have for a long time, viz., from 1830 to 1848, been regarded as the highest or culminating points of the Cordilleras of the new continent:—

The Nevado de Sorata, also called Ancohuma or Tusubaya (15° 52′ south lat.), somewhat to the south of the village of Sorata or Esquibel, in the eastern chain of Bolivia: elevation, 25,222 feet.

The Nevado de Illimani, west of the mission of Yrupana (16° 38′ south lat.), also in the eastern chain of Bolivia: elevation, 24,000 feet.

The Chimborazo (1° 27′ south lat.), in the province of Quito: elevation, 21,422 feet.

The Sorata and Illimani were first measured by the distinguished geologist, Pentland, in the years 1827 and 1838; 44and since the publication of his large map of the basin of the Laguna de Titicaca, in June, 1848, we learn that the above elevations given for the Sorata and Illimani are 3960 feet and 2851 feet too high. His map gives only 21,286 feet for the Sorata, and 21,149 feet for the Illimani. A more exact calculation of the trigonometrical operations of 1838 led Mr. Pentland to these new results. He ascribes an elevation of from 21,700 to 22,350 feet to four summits of the western Cordilleras; and, according to his data, the Peak of Sahama would thus be 926 feet higher than the Chimborazo, but 850 feet lower than the Peak of Aconcagua.

6. p. 2—“The desert near the basaltic mountains of Harudsch.”

Near the Egyptian Natron Lakes, which in Strabo’s time had not yet been divided into the six reservoirs by which they are now characterized, there rises abruptly to the north a chain of hills, running from east to west past Fezzan, where it at length appears to form one connected range with the Atlas chain. It divides in north-eastern, as Mount Atlas does in north-western Africa the Lybia, described by Herodotus as inhabited and situated near the sea, from the land of the Berbirs, or Biledulgerid, famed for the abundance of its wild animals. On the borders of Middle Egypt the whole region, south of the 30th degree of latitude, is an ocean of sand, studded here and there with islands or oases abounding in springs and rich in vegetation. Owing to the discoveries of recent travellers, a vast addition has been made to the number of the Oases formerly known, and which the ancients limited to three, compared by Strabo to spots upon a panther’s skin. The third Oasis of the ancients, now called Siwah, was the nomos of Ammon, a hierarchical seat and a resting-place for the caravans, which inclosed within its precincts the temple of the horned Ammon and the spring of the Sun, whose waters were supposed to become cool at certain periods. The ruins of Ummibida (Omm-Beydah) incontestably belong to the fortified caravanserai at the Temple of Ammon, and therefore constitute one of the most ancient monuments which have come down to us from the dawn of human civilization.^[AG]

45The word Oasis is Egyptian, and is synonymous with Auasis and Hyasis.^[AH] Abulfeda calls the Oases el-Wah. In the latter time of the Cæsars, malefactors were sent to the Oases, being banished to these islands in the sandy ocean, as the Spaniards and English transported their malefactors to the Falkland islands and New Holland. The ocean affords almost a better chance of escape than the desert surrounding the Oases; which, moreover, diminish in fruitfulness in proportion to the greater quantity of sand incorporated in the soil.

The small mountain range of Harudsch (Harudje^[AI]) consists of grotesquely-shaped basaltic hills. It is the Mons Ater of Pliny, and its western extremity, known as the Soudah mountain, has been recently explored by my unfortunate friend, the enterprising traveller Ritchie. These basaltic eruptions in the tertiary limestone, and rows of hills rising abruptly from fissures, appear to be analogous to the basaltic eruptions in the Vicentine territory.

Nature repeats the same phenomena in the most distant regions of the earth. Hornemann found an immense quantity of petrified fishes’ heads in the limestone formations of the White Harudsch (Harudje el-Abiad), belonging probably to the old chalk. Ritchie and Lyon remarked that the basalt of the Soudah mountain was in many places intimately mingled with carbonate of lime, as is the case in Monte Berico; a phenomenon that is probably connected with eruptions through limestone strata. Lyon’s chart even indicates dolomite in the neighbourhood. Modern mineralogists have found syenite and greenstone, but not basalt, in Egypt. Is it possible that the true basalt, from which many of the ancient vases found in various parts of the country were made, can have been derived from a mountain lying so far to the west? Can the obsidius lapis have come from there, or are we to seek basalt and obsidian on the coast of the Red Sea? The strip of the volcanic eruptions of Harudsch, on the borders of the African desert, moreover reminds the geologist of augitic vesicular amygdaloid, phonolite, and greenstone porphyry, which are only found on the northern and western limits of the steppes of Venezuela 46and of the plains of the Arkansas, and therefore, as it were, on the ancient coast chains.^[AJ]

7. p. 3—“When suddenly deserted by the tropical east wind, and the sea is covered with weeds.”

It is a remarkable phenomenon, although one generally known to mariners, that in the neighbourhood of the African coast, (between the Canaries and the Cape de Verde islands, and more especially between Cape Bojador and the mouth of the Senegal,) a westerly wind often prevails instead of the usual east or trade wind of the tropics. The cause of this phenomenon is to be ascribed to the far-extending desert of Zahara, and arises from the rarefaction, and consequent vertical ascent of the air over the heated sandy surface. To fill up the vacuum thus occasioned, the cool sea-air rushes in, producing a westerly breeze, adverse to vessels sailing to America; and the mariner, long before he perceives any continent, is made sensible of the effects of its heat-radiating sands. As is well known, a similar cause produces that alternation of sea and land breezes, which prevails at certain hours of the day and night on all sea-coasts.

The accumulation of sea-weed in the neighbourhood of the western coasts of Africa has been often referred to by ancient writers. The local position of this accumulation is a problem which is intimately connected with the conjectures regarding the extent of Phœnician navigation. The Periplus, which has been ascribed to Scylax of Caryanda, and which, according to the investigations of Niebuhr and Letronne, was very probably compiled in the time of Philip of Macedon, contains a description of a kind of fucus sea, Mar de Sargasso, beyond Cerne; but the locality indicated appears to me very different from that assigned to it in the work “De Mirabilibus Auscultationibus,” which for a long time, but incorrectly, bore the great name of Aristotle.^[AK] “Driven by the east wind,” says the pseudo-Aristotle, “Phœnician 47mariners came in a four days’ voyage from Gades to a place where the sea was found covered with rushes and sea-weed (θρύον καὶ φῦκος). The sea-weed is uncovered at ebb, and overflowed at flood tide.” Does he not here refer to a shoal lying between the 34th and 36th degrees of latitude? Has a shoal disappeared there in consequence of volcanic revolution? Vobonne refers to rocks north of Madeira.^[AL] In Scylax it is stated that “the sea beyond Cerne ceases to be navigable in consequence of its great shallowness, its muddiness, and its sea-grass. The sea-grass lies a span thick, and it is pointed at its upper extremity, so that it pricks.” The sea-weed which is found between Cerne (the Phœnician station for merchant vessels, Gaulea; or, according to Gosselin, the small estuary of Fedallah, on the north-west coast of Mauritania,) and Cape Verde, at the present time by no means forms a great meadow or connected group, “mare herbidum,” such as exists on the other side of the Azores. Moreover, in the poetic description of the coast given by Festus Avienus,^[AM] in which, as Avienus himself very distinctly acknowledges, he availed himself of the journals of Phœnician ships, the impediments presented by the sea-weed are described with great minuteness; but Avienus places the site of this obstacle much further north, towards Ierne, the Holy Isle.

When we consider that the sea-weed (fucus), the mud or slime (πηλὸς), the shallowness of the sea, and the perpetual calms, are always regarded by the ancients as characteristic of the Western Ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules, we feel inclined, especially on account of the reference to the calms, to ascribe this to Punic cunning, to the tendency of a great trading people to hinder others, by terrific descriptions, from competing with them in maritime trading westwards. But even 48in the genuine writings of the Stagyrite,^[AN] the same opinion is retained regarding the absence of wind, and Aristotle attempts to explain a false notion, or, as it seems to me, more correctly speaking, a fabulous mariner’s story, by an hypothesis regarding the depth of the sea. The stormy sea between Gades and the Islands of the Blest (Cadiz and the Canaries) can in truth in no way be compared with the sea, which lies between the tropics, ruffled only by the gentle trade-winds (vents alisés), and which has been very characteristically named by the Spaniards^[AO] El Golfo de las Damas.

From very careful personal researches and from comparison of the logs of many English and French vessels, I am led to believe that the old and very indefinite expression Mar de Sargasso, refers to two fucus banks, the larger of which is of an elongated form, and is the easternmost one, lying between the parallels of 19° and 34°, in a meridian 7° westward of the Island of Corvo, one of the Azores; while the smaller and westernmost bank is of a roundish form, and is found between Bermuda and the Bahama Islands (lat. 25°–31°, long. 66°–74°). The principal diameter of the small bank, which is traversed by ships sailing from Baxo de Plata (Caye d’Argent,) northward of St. Domingo to the Bermudas, appears to me to have a N. 60° E. direction. A transverse band of fucus natans, extending in an east-westerly direction between the latitudes of 25° and 30°, connects the greater with the smaller bank. I have had the pleasure of seeing these views adopted by my lamented friend Major Rennell, and confirmed, in his great work on Currents, by many new observations.^[AP] The two groups of sea-weed, together with the transverse band uniting them, constitute the Sargasso Sea of the older writers, and collectively occupy an area equal to six or seven times that of Germany.

The vegetation of the ocean thus offers the most remarkable example of social plants of a single species. On the main land the Savannahs or grass plains of America, the heaths (ericeta), and the forests of Northern Europe and Asia, 49in which are associated coniferous trees, birches, and willows, produce a less striking uniformity than do these thalassophytes. Our heaths present in the north not only the predominating Calluna vulgaris, but also Erica tetralix, E. ciliaris, and E. cinerea; and in the south, Erica arborea, E. scoparia, and E. Mediterranea. The uniformity of the view presented by the Fucus natans is incomparably greater than that of any other assemblage of social plants. Oviedo calls the fucus banks “meadows,” praderias de yerva. If we consider that Pedro Velasco, a native of the Spanish harbour of Palos, by following the flight of certain birds from Fayal, discovered the Island of Flores as early as 1452, it seems almost impossible, considering the proximity of the great fucus bank of Corvo and Flores, that no part of these oceanic meadows should have been seen before the time of Columbus by Portuguese ships driven westward by storms.

We learn, however, from the astonishment of the companions of the admiral, when they were continuously surrounded by sea-grass from the 16th of September to the 8th of October, 1492, that the magnitude of the phenomenon was at that period unknown to mariners. In the extracts from the ship’s journal given by Las Casas, Columbus certainly does not mention the apprehensions which the accumulation of sea-weed excited, or the grumbling of his companions. He merely speaks of the complaints and murmurs regarding the danger of the very weak but constant east winds. It was only his son, Fernando Colon, who in the history of his father’s life, endeavoured to give a somewhat dramatic delineation of the anxieties of the sailors.

According to my researches, Columbus made his way through the great fucus bank in the year 1492, in latitude 28½°, and in 1493, in latitude 37°, and both times in the longitude of 38°–41°. This can be established with tolerable certainty from the estimation of the velocity recorded by Columbus, and “the distance daily sailed over;” not indeed by dropping the log, but by the information afforded by the running out of half-hour sand-glasses (ampolletas). The first certain and distinct account of the log, (catena della poppa,) which I have found, is in the year 1521, in Pigafetta’s Journal of Magellan’s Circumnavigation of the World.^[AQ] The determination 50of the ship’s place during the days in which Columbus was crossing the great bank is the more important, because it shews us that for three centuries and a half the total accumulation of these socially-living thalassophytes, (whether consequent on the local character of the sea’s bottom or on the direction of the recurrent Gulf stream,) has remained at the same point. Such evidences of the persistence of great natural phenomena doubly arrest the attention of the natural philosopher, when they occur in the ever-moving oceanic element. Although the limits of the fucus banks oscillate considerably, in accordance with the strength and direction of long predominating winds, yet we may still, in the middle of the nineteenth century, take the meridian of 41° west of Paris (or 8° 38′ west of Greenwich) as the principal axis of the great bank. Columbus, with his vivid imaginative force, associated the idea of the position of this bank with the great physical line of demarcation, which according to him, “separated the globe into two parts, and was intimately connected with the changes of magnetic deviation and of climatic relations.” Columbus when he was uncertain regarding the longitude, attempted to determine his place (February, 1493,) by the appearance of the first floating masses of tangled weed (de la primera yerva) on the eastern border of the great Corvo bank. The physical line of demarcation was, by the powerful influence of the Admiral, converted on the 4th of May, 1493, into a political one, in the celebrated line of demarcation between the Spanish and Portuguese rights of possession^[AR].

8. p. 3—“The Nomadic Tribes of Tibbos and Tuaryks.”

These two nations, which inhabit the desert between Bornou, Fezzan, and Lower Egypt, were first made more accurately known to us by the travels of Hornemann and Lyon. The Tibbos or Tibbous occupy the eastern, and the Tuaryks (Tueregs) the western portion of the great sandy ocean. The former, from their habits of constant moving, were named by the other tribes “birds.” The Tuaryks are subdivided into two tribes—the Aghadez and the Tagazi. These are often caravan leaders and merchants. They speak 51the same language as the Berbers, and undoubtedly belong to the primitive Lybian races. They present the remarkable physiological phenomenon that, according to the character of the climate, the different tribes vary in complexion from a white to a yellow, or even almost black hue; but they never have woolly hair or negro features.^[AS]

9. p. 3—“The ship of the desert.”

In the poetry of the East, the camel is designated as the land-ship, or the ship of the desert (Sefynet-el-badyet^[AT]).

The camel is, however, not only the carrier in the desert, and the medium for maintaining communication between different countries, but is also, as Carl Bitter has shown in his admirable treatise on the sphere of distribution of this animal, “the main requirement of a nomadic mode of life in the patriarchal stage of national development, in the torrid regions of our planet, where rain is either wholly or in a great degree absent. No animal’s life is so closely associated by natural bonds with a certain primitive stage of the development of the life of man, as that of the camel among the Bedouin tribes, nor has any other been established in like manner by a continuous historical evidence of several thousand years.”^[AU] “The camel was entirely unknown to the cultivated people of Carthage through all the centuries of their flourishing existence, until the destruction of the city. It was first brought into use for armies by the Marusians, in Western Lybia, in the times of the Cæsars; perhaps in consequence of its employment in commercial undertakings by the Ptolemies, in the valley of the Nile. The Guanches, inhabiting the Canary Islands, who were probably related to the Berber race, were not acquainted with the camel before the fifteenth century, when it was introduced by Norman conquerors and settlers. In the probably very limited communication of the Guanches with the coast of Africa, the smallness of their boats must necessarily have impeded the transport of large animals. The true Berber race, which was diffused throughout the interior of Northern Africa, and to which the Tibbos and Tuaryks, as already observed, belong, 52is probably indebted to the use of the camel throughout the Lybian desert and its oases, not only for the advantages of internal communication, but also for its escape from complete annihilation and for the maintenance of its national existence to the present day. The use of the camel continued, on the other hand, to be unknown to the negro races, and it was only in company with the conquering expeditions and proselyting missions of the Bedouins through the whole of Northern Africa, that the useful animal of the Nedschd, of the Nabatheans, and of all the districts occupied by Aramean races, spread here, as elsewhere, to the westward. The Goths brought camels as early as the fourth century to the Lower Istros (the Danube), and the Ghaznevides transported them in much larger numbers to India as far as the banks of the Ganges.” We must distinguish two epochs in the distribution of the camel throughout the northern part of the African continent; the first under the Ptolemies, which operated through Cyrene on the whole of the north-west of Africa, and the second under the Mahommedan epoch of the conquering Arabs.

It has long been a matter of discussion, whether those domestic animals which were the earliest companions of mankind, as oxen, sheep, dogs, and camels, are still to be met with in a state of original wildness. The Hiongnu, in Eastern Asia, are among the nations who earliest trained wild camels as domestic animals. The compiler of the great Chinese work, Si-yu-wen-kien-lo^[AV], states that in the middle of the eighteenth century, wild camels, as well as wild horses and wild asses, still roamed over Eastern Turkestan. Hadji Chalfa, in his Turkish Geography, written in the seventeenth century, speaks of the very frequent hunting of the wild camel in the high plains of Kashgar, Turfan, and Khotan. Schott finds in the writings of a Chinese author, Ma-dschi, that wild camels exist in the countries north of China and west of the basin of the Hoang-ho, in Ho-si or Tangut. Cuvier^[AW] alone doubts the present existence of wild camels in the interior of Asia. He believes that they have merely “become wild;” since Calmucks, and others professing kindred Buddhist 53doctrines, set camels and other animals at liberty, in order “to acquire to themselves merit for the other world.” The Ailanitic Gulf of the Nabatheans was the home of the wild Arabian camel, according to Greek witnesses of the times of Artemidorus and Agatharchides of Cnidus.^[AX] The discovery of fossil camel-bones of the ancient world in the Sewalik hills (which are projecting spurs of the Himalaya range), by Captain Cautley and Dr. Falconer, in 1834, is especially worthy of notice. These remains were found with antediluvian bones of mastodons, true elephants, giraffes, and a gigantic land tortoise (Colossochelys), twelve feet in length and six feet in height.^[AY] This camel of the ancient world has been named Camelus sivalensis, although it does not show any great difference from the still living Egyptian and Bactrian camels with one and two humps. Forty camels have very recently been introduced into Java, from Teneriffe^[AZ]. The first experiment has been made in Samarang. In like manner, reindeer were only introduced into Iceland from Norway in the course of the last century. They were not found there when the island was first colonised, notwithstanding its proximity to East Greenland, and the existence of floating masses of ice.^[BA]

10. p. 3—“Between the Altai and the Kuen-lün.”

The great highland, or, as it is commonly called, the mountain plateau of Asia, which comprises the lesser Bucharia, Songaria, Thibet, Tangut, and the Mogul country of the Chalcas and Olotes, is situated between the 36th and 48th degrees of north latitude and the meridians of 81° and 118° E. long. It is an erroneous idea to represent this part of the interior of Asia as a single, undivided mountainous swelling, continuous like the plateaux of Quito and Mexico, and situated from seven to upwards of nine thousand feet above the level of the sea. I have already shown in my “Researches respecting the Mountains of Northern India,^[BB]” that there is not in this sense any continuous mountain plateau in the interior of Asia.

54My views concerning the geographical distribution of plants, and the mean degree of temperature requisite for certain kinds of cultivation, had early led me to entertain considerable doubts regarding the continuity of a great Tartarian plateau between the Himalaya and the chain of the Altai. This plateau continued to be characterized, as it had been described by Hippocrates, as “the high and naked plains of Scythia, which, without being crowned with mountains, rise and extend to beneath the constellation of the Bear.”^[BC] Klaproth has the undeniable merit of having been the first to make us acquainted with the true position and prolongation of two great and entirely distinct chains of mountains,—the Kuen-lün and the Thian-schan, in a part of Asia which better deserves to be termed “central,” than Kashmeer, Baltistan, and the Sacred Lakes of Thibet (the Manasa and the Ravanahrada). The importance of the Celestial Mountains (the Thian-schan) had indeed been already surmised by Pallas, without his being conscious of their volcanic character; but this highly-gifted investigator of nature, led astray by the hypotheses of the dogmatic and fantastic geology prevalent in his time, and firmly believing in “chains of mountains radiating from a centre,” saw in the Bogdo Oola (the Mons Augustus, or culminating point of the Thian-schan,) such “a central node, whence all the other Asiatic mountain chains diverge in rays, and which dominates over all the rest of the continent!”

The erroneous idea of a single boundless and elevated plain, occupying the whole of Central Asia, the “Plateau de la Tartarie,” originated in France, in the latter half of the eighteenth century. It was the result of historical combinations, and of a not sufficiently attentive study of the writings of the celebrated Venetian traveller, as well as of the naïve relations of those diplomatic monks who, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries (thanks to the unity and extent of the Mogul empire at that time), were able to traverse almost the whole of the interior of the continent, from the ports of Syria and of the Caspian Sea to the east coast of China, washed by the great ocean. If a more exact acquaintance with the language and ancient literature of India were of an older date among us than half a century, the hypothesis of this central plateau, occupying the wide space between the Himalaya and 55the south of Siberia, would no doubt have sought support from some ancient and venerable authority. The poem of the Mahabharata appears, in the geographical fragment Bhischmakanda, to describe “Meru” not so much as a mountain as an enormous swelling of the land, which supplies with water the sources of the Ganges, those of the Bhadrasoma (Irtysch), and those of the forked Oxus. These physico-geographical views were intermingled in Europe with ideas of other kinds, and with mythical reveries on the origin of mankind. The lofty regions from which the waters were supposed to have first retreated (for geologists in general were long averse to the theories of elevation) must also have received the first germs of civilization. Hebraic systems of geology, based on ideas of a deluge, and supported by local traditions, favoured these assumptions. The intimate connexion between time and space, between the beginning of social order and the plastic condition of the surface of the earth, lent a peculiar importance and an almost moral interest to the Plateau of Tartary, which was supposed to be characterized by uninterrupted continuity. Acquisitions of positive knowledge,—the late matured fruit of scientific travels and direct measurements,—with a fundamental study of the languages and literature of Asia, and more especially of China, have gradually demonstrated the inaccuracy and exaggeration of those wild hypotheses. The mountain plains (ὀροπέδια) of Central Asia are no longer regarded as the cradle of human civilization, and the primitive seat of all arts and sciences. The ancient nation of Bailly’s Atlantis, which d’Alembert has happily described as “having taught us everything but its own name and existence,” has vanished. The inhabitants of the Oceanic Atlantis were already treated, in the time of Posidonius, as having a merely apocryphal existence.^[BD]

A plateau of considerable but very unequal elevation runs with little interruption, in a S.S.W.-N.N.E. direction, from Eastern Thibet towards the mountain node of Kentei, south of Lake Baikal, and is known by the names of Gobi, Scha-mo, (sand desert,) Scha-ho. (sand river,) and Han-hai. This swelling of the ground, which is probably more ancient than the elevation of the mountain-chains by which it is intersected, is situated, as we have already remarked, between 81° and 118° 56east longitude from Greenwich. Measured at right angles to its longitudinal axis, its breadth in the south, between Ladak, Gertop, and H’lassa (the seat of the great Lama), is 720 miles; between Hami in the Celestial Mountains, and the great curve of the Hoang-ho, near the In-schan chain, it is scarcely 480; but in the north, between the Khanggai, where the great city of Karakhorum once stood, and the chain of Khin-gan-Petscha, which runs in a meridian line (in the part of Gobi traversed in going from Kiachta to Pekin by way of Urga), it is 760 miles. The whole extent of this elevated ground, which must be carefully distinguished from the more eastern and higher mountain-range, may be approximately estimated, including its deflections, at about three times the area of France. The map of the mountain-ranges and volcanoes of Central Asia, which I constructed in 1839, but did not publish until 1843, shows in the clearest manner the hypsometric relations between the mountain-ranges and the Gobi plateau. It was founded on the critical employment of all the astronomical determinations accessible to me, and on many of the very rich and copious orographic descriptions in which Chinese literature abounds, and which were examined at my request by Klaproth and Stanislaus Julien. My map marks in prominent characters the mean direction and the height of the mountain-chains, together with the chief features of the interior of the continent of Asia from 30 to 60 degrees of latitude, between the meridians of Pekin and Cherson. It differs essentially from any map hitherto published.

The Chinese enjoyed a triple advantage, by means of which they were enabled to enrich their earliest literature with so considerable an amount of orographic knowledge regarding Upper Asia, and more especially those regions situated between the In-schan, the alpine lake of Khuku-noor, and the shores of the Ili and Tarim, lying north and south of the Celestial Mountains, and which were so little known to Western Europe. These three advantages were, besides the peaceful conquests of the Buddhist pilgrims, the warlike expeditions towards the west (as early as the dynasties of Han and Thang, one hundred and twenty-two years before our era, and again in the ninth century, when conquerors advanced as far as Ferghana and the shores of the Caspian Sea); the religious interest attached to certain high mountain summits, 57on account of the periodical performance of sacrifices, in accordance with pre-existing enactments; and lastly, the early and generally known use of the compass for determining the direction of mountains and rivers. This use, and the knowledge of the south-pointing of the magnetic needle, twelve centuries before the Christian era, gave a great superiority to the orographic and hydrographic descriptions of the Chinese over those of Greek and Roman authors, who treated less frequently of subjects of this nature. The acute observer Strabo was alike ignorant of the direction of the Pyrenees and of that of the Alps and Apennines.^[BE]

To the lowlands belong almost the whole of Northern Asia to the north-west of the volcanic Celestial Mountains (Thian-schan); the steppes to the north of the Altai and the Sayanic chain; and the countries which extend from the mountains of Bolor, or Bulyt-tagh (Cloud Mountains in the Uigurian dialect), which run in a north and south direction, and from the upper Oxus, whose sources were discovered in the Pamershian Lake, Sir-i-kol (Lake Victoria), by the Buddhist pilgrims Hiuen-thsang and Song-yun in 518 and 629, by Marco Polo in 1277, and by Lieutenant Wood in 1838, towards the Caspian Sea; and from Lake Tenghiz or Balkasch, through the Kirghis Steppe, towards the Aral and the southern extremity of the Ural Mountains. In the vicinity of mountainous plains, whose elevation varies from 6000 to more than 10,000 feet above the sea’s level, we may assuredly be allowed to apply the term lowlands to districts which are only elevated from 200 to 1200 feet. The first of these heights correspond with that of the city of Mannheim, and the second with that of Geneva and Tübingen. If we extend the application of the word plateau, which has so frequently been misused by modern geographers, to elevations of the soil which scarcely present any sensible difference in the character of the vegetation and climate, physical geography, owing to the indefiniteness of the merely relatively important terms of high and low land, will be unable to distinguish the connexion between elevation above the sea’s level and climate, between the decrease of the temperature and the increase in elevation. When I was in Chinese Dzungarei, 58between the boundaries of Siberia and Lake Saysan (Dsaisang), at an equal distance from the Icy Sea and the mouth of the Ganges, I might assuredly consider myself to be in Central Asia. The barometer, however, soon showed me that the elevation of the plains watered by the Upper Irtysch between Ustkamenogorsk and the Chinese Dzungarian post of Chonimailachu (the sheep-bleating) was scarcely as much as from 850 to 1170 feet. Pansner’s earlier barometric determinations of height, which were first made known after my expedition, have been confirmed by my own observations. Both afford a refutation of the hypotheses of Chappe D’Auteroche (based on calculations of the fall of rivers) regarding the elevated position of the shores of the Irtysch, in Southern Siberia. Even further eastward, the Lake of Baikal is only 1420 feet above the level of the sea.

In order to associate the idea of the relation between lowlands and highlands, and of the successive gradations in the elevation of the soil, with actual data based on accurate measurements, I subjoin a table, in which the heights of the elevated plains of Europe, Africa, and America are given in an ascending scale. With these numbers we may then further compare all that has as yet been made known regarding the mean height of the Asiatic plains, or true lowlands.

No portion of the so-called Desert of Gobi, which consists in part of fine pasture lands, has been so thoroughly investigated in relation to its differences of elevations as the zone which extends over an area of nearly 600 miles, between 59the sources of the Selenga and the Chinese wall. A very accurate barometrical levelling was executed, under the auspices of the Academy of St. Petersburgh, by two distinguished savans—the astronomer George Fuss, and the botanist Bunge. They accompanied a mission of Greek monks to Pekin, in the year 1832, in order to establish there one of those magnetic stations whose construction I had recommended. The mean height of this portion of the Desert of Gobi amounts hardly to 4263 feet, and not to 8000 or 8500 feet, as had been too hastily concluded from the measurements of contiguous mountain summits by the Jesuits Gerbillon and Verbiest. The surface of the Desert of Gobi is not more than 2558 feet above the level of the sea between Erghi, Durma, and Scharaburguna; and scarcely more than 320 feet higher than the plateau of Madrid. Erghi is situated midway, in 45° 31′ north lat., and 111° 26′ east long., in a depression of the land extending in a direction from south-west to north-east over a breadth of more than 240 miles. An ancient Mongolian saga designates this spot as the former site of a large inland sea. Reeds and saline plants, generally of the same species as those found on the low shores of the Caspian Sea, are here met with; while there are in this central part of the desert several small saline lakes, the salt of which is carried to China. According to a singular opinion prevalent among the Mongols, the ocean will at some period return, and again establish its dominion in Gobi. Such geological reveries remind us of the Chinese traditions of the bitter lake, in the interior of Siberia, of which I have elsewhere spoken.^[BF]

The basin of Kashmir, which has been so enthusiastically praised by Bernier, and too moderately estimated by Victor Jacquemont, has also given occasion to great hypsometric exaggerations. Jacquemont found by an accurate barometric measurement that the height of the Wulur Lake, in the valley of Kashmir, near the capital Sirinagur, was 5346 feet. Uncertain determinations by the boiling point of water gave Baron Carl von Hügel 5819 feet, and Lieutenant Cunningham only 5052 feet.^[BG] The mountainous 60districts of Kashmir, which has excited so great an interest in Germany, and whose climatic advantages have lost somewhat of their reputation since Carl von Hügel’s account of the four months of winter snow in the streets of Sirinagur,^[BH] does not lie on the high crests of the Himalaya, as has commonly been supposed, but constitutes a true cauldron-like valley on their southern declivity. On the south-west, where the rampart-like Pir Panjal separates it from the Indian Punjaub, the snow-crowned summits are covered, according to Vigne, by basaltic and amygdaloid formations. The latter are very characteristically termed by the natives schischak deyu, or devil’s pock-marks.^[BI] The charms of the vegetation have also been very differently described, according as travellers passed into Kashmir from the south, and left behind them the luxuriant and varied vegetation of India; or from the northern regions of Turkestan, Samarkand, and Ferghana.

Moreover, it is only very recently that we have obtained a clearer view regarding the elevation of Thibet, the level of the plateau having long been uncritically confounded with the mountain tops rising from it. Thibet occupies the space between the two great chains of the Himalaya and the Kuen-lün, and forms the elevated ground of the valley between them. The land is divided from east to west, both by the inhabitants and by Chinese geographers, into three parts. We distinguish Upper Thibet, with its capital, H’lassa (probably 9592 feet high); Middle Thibet, with the town of Leh or Ladak (9995 feet); and Little Thibet, or Baltistan, called the Thibet of Apricots (Sari-Butan), in which lie Iskardo (6300 feet), Gilgit, and south of Iskardo, but on the left bank of the Indus, the plateau Deotsuh, whose elevation was determined by Vigne (11,977 feet). On carefully examining all the notices we have hitherto possessed regarding the three Thibets, and which will have been abundantly augmented during the present year by the brilliant boundary surveying expedition under the auspices of the Governor-general, Lord Dalhousie, we soon become convinced that the region between the Himalaya and the Kuen-lün is no unbroken table-land, but that it is intersected by mountain groups, which undoubtedly belong to perfectly distinct systems of elevation. 61Actual plains are very few in number: the most considerable are those between Gertop, Daba, Schang-thung (the Shepherd’s Plain), the native country of the shawl-goat, and Schipke (10,449 feet); those round Ladak, which attain an elevation of 13,429 feet, and must not be confounded with the depressed land in which the town lies; and finally, the plateau of the Sacred Lakes, Manasa and Ravanahrada (probably 14,965 feet), which was visited by Father Antonio de Andrada as early as the year 1625. Other parts are entirely filled with compressed mountain masses, “rising,” as a recent traveller observes, “like the waves of a vast ocean.” Along the rivers, the Indus, the Sutledge, and the Yaru-dzangbotschu, which was formerly regarded as identical with the Buramputer (or correctly the Brahmaputra), points have been measured which are only between 6714 and 8952 feet above the sea; and the same is the case with the Thibetian villages Pangi, Kunawur, Kelu, and Murung.^[BJ] From many carefully collected determinations of heights, I think that we are justified in assuming that the plateau of Thibet between 73° and 85° east long, does not attain a mean elevation of 11,510 feet: this is hardly the elevation of the fruitful plain of Caxamarca in Peru, and is 1349 and 2155 feet less than the plateau of Titicaca, and of the street pavement of the Upper Town of Potosi (13,665 feet).

That beyond the Thibetian highlands and the Gobi, whose outline has been already defined, Asia presents considerable depressions, and indeed true lowlands, between the parallels of 37° and 48°, where once an immeasurable continuous plateau was fabulously supposed to exist, is proved by the cultivation of plants which cannot flourish without a certain degree of temperature. An attentive study of the travels of Marco Polo, in which mention is made of the cultivation of the vine, and of the production of cotton in northern latitudes, had long ago directed the attention of the acute Klaproth to this point. In a Chinese work, bearing the title Information respecting the recently conquered Barbarians (Sinkiang-wai-tan-ki-lio), it is stated that “the country of Aksu, somewhat to the south of the Celestial Mountains, near the rivers which form the great Tarim-gol, produces grapes, pomegranates, and numberless other fruits of singular excellence; 62also cotton (Gossypium religiosum), which, covers the fields like yellow clouds. In summer the heat is extremely great, and in winter there is here, as at Turfan, neither intense cold nor heavy snow.” The neighbourhood of Khotan, Kaschgar, and Yarkand still, as in the time of Marco Polo,^[BK] pays its tribute in home-grown cotton. In the oasis of Hami (Khamil), above 200 miles east of Aksu, orange trees, pomegranates, and the finer vines are found to flourish.

The products of cultivation which are here noticed lead to the belief that over extensive districts the elevation of the soil is very slight. At so great a distance from the sea side, and in the easterly situation which so much increases the degree of winter cold, a plateau, as high as Madrid or Munich, might indeed have a very hot summer, but would hardly have, in 43° and 44° latitude, an extremely mild and almost snowless winter. I have seen a high summer heat favour the cultivation of the vine, as at the Caspian Sea, 83 feet below the level of the Black Sea (at Astrakhan, latitude 46° 21′); but the winter cold is there from –4° to –13°. Moreover, the vine is sunk to a greater depth in the ground after the month of November. We can understand that cultivated plants, which, as it were, live only in the summer, as the vine, the cotton plant, rice, and melons, may be cultivated with success between the latitudes of 40° and 44°, on plateaux at an elevation of more than 3000^[BL] feet, and may be favoured by the action of radiant heat; but how could the pomegranate trees of Aksu, and the orange trees of Hami, whose fruit Father Grosier extolled as excellent, endure a long and severe winter (the necessary consequence of a great elevation^[BM])? Carl Zimmerman^[BN] has shown it to be extremely probable that the Tarim depression, or the desert between the mountain chain of Thian-schan and Kuen-lün, where the steppe river Tarim-gol discharges itself into the Lake of Lop, formerly described as an alpine lake, is hardly 1280 feet above the level of the sea, or only twice the elevation of Prague. Sir Alexander Burnes also ascribes to Bokhara only 63an elevation of 1188 feet. It is most earnestly to be desired that all doubt regarding the elevation of the plateaux of Central Asia, south of 45° north latitude, should finally be removed by direct barometrical measurements, or by determinations of the boiling point of water, conducted with greater care than is usual in these cases. All our calculations of the difference between the limits of perpetual snow and the maximum elevation of vine cultivation in different climates, rest at present on too complex and uncertain elements.

In order as briefly as possible to rectify that which has been advanced in the former edition of the present work, regarding the great mountain systems which intersect the interior of Asia, I subjoin the following general review:—We begin with the four parallel chains, which run, with tolerable regularity, from east to west, and are connected together by means of a few detached transverse lines. Differences of direction indicate, as in the Alps of Western Europe, a difference in the epoch of elevation. After the four parallel chains (the Altai, the Thian-schan, the Kuen-lün, and the Himalaya) we must consider as following the direction of meridian, the Ural, the Bolor, the Khingan, and the Chinese chains, which, with the great inflection of the Thibetian and Assam-Birmese Dzangbo-tschu incline from north to south. The Ural divides a depressed portion of Europe from a similarly low portion of Asia. The latter was called by Herodotus,^[BO] and even earlier by Pherecydes of Syros, Scythian or Siberian Europe, and comprised all the countries to the north of the Caspian and of the Iaxartes, which flows from east to west, and may therefore be regarded as a continuation of our Europe, “as it now exists, extending lengthwise across the continent of Asia.”

1. The great mountain system of the Altai (the “gold mountains” of Menander of Byzantium, an historical writer of the seventh century; the Altaï-alin of the Moguls, and the Kin-schan of the Chinese) forms the southern boundary of the great Siberian lowlands, and running between 50° and 52½° north latitude, extends from the rich silver mines of the Snake Mountains, and the confluence of the Uba and the Irtysch, to the meridian of Lake Baikal. The divisions and names of the “Great” and the “Little Altai,” taken from an obscure passage of Abulghasi, should be wholly avoided.^[BP] 64The mountain system of the Altai comprehends—(a) the Altai proper, or Kolywanski Altai, which is entirely under the Russian sceptre: it lies to the west of the intersecting fissures of the Telezki Lake, which follow the direction of the meridian; and in ante-historic times probably constituted the eastern shore of the great arm of the sea, by which, in the direction of the still existing lakes, Aksakal-Barbi and Sary-Kupa,^[BQ] the Aralo-Caspian basin was connected with the Icy sea;—(b) East of the Telezki chains, which follow the direction of the meridian, the Sayani, Tangnu, and Ulangom, or Malakha ranges, all tolerably parallel with each other, and following an east and west direction. The Tangnu, which merges in the basin of the Selenga, has, from very remote times, constituted the national boundary between the Turkish race, to the south, and the Kirghis (Hakas, identical with Σάκαι), to the north.^[BR] It is the original seat of the Samoieds or Soyotes. who wandered as far as the Icy Sea, and were long regarded in Europe as a race inhabiting exclusively the coasts of the Polar Sea. The highest snow-covered summits of the Kolywan Altai are the Bielucha and the Katunia Pillars. The latter attain only a height of about 11,000 feet, or about the height of Etna. The Daurian highland, to which the mountain node of Kentei belongs, and on whose eastern margin lies the Jablonoi Chrebet, divides the depressions of the Baikal and the Amur.

2. The mountain system of the Thian-schan, or the chain of the Celestial Mountains, the Tengri-tagh of the Turks (Tukiu), and of the kindred race of the Hiongnu, is eight times as long, in an east and west direction, as the Pyrenees. Beyond, that is to say, to the west of its intersection with the meridian chain of the Bolor and Kosuyrt, the Thian-schan bears the names of Asferah and Aktagh, is rich in metals, and is intersected with open fissures, which emit hot vapours luminous at night, and which are used for obtaining sal-ammoniac.^[BS] East of the transverse Bolor and Kosyurt chain, there follow successively in the Thian-schan, the Kashgar Pass (Kaschgar-dawan), the Glacier Pass of Djeparle, which leads to Kutch and Aksu in the Tarim basin; the volcano of Pe-schan, which 65erupted fire and streams of lava at least as late as the middle of the seventh century; the great snow-covered massive elevation of Bogdo-Oola; the Solfatara of Urumtsi, which furnishes sulphur and sal-ammoniac (nao-scha), and lies in a coal district; the volcano of Turfan (or volcano of Ho-tscheu or Bischbalik), almost midway between the meridians of Turfan (Kune Turpan), and of Pidjan, and which is still in a state of activity. The volcanic eruptions of the Thian-schan chain reach, according to Chinese historians, as far back as the year 89, A.D., when the Hiongnu were pursued by the Chinese from the sources of the Irtysch as far as Kutch and Kharaschar^[BT]. The Chinese General, Teu-hian, crossed the Thian-schan, and saw “the Fire Mountains, which sent out masses of molten rock that flow to the distance of many Li.”

The great distance of the volcanoes of the interior of Asia from the sea coast is a remarkable and isolated phenomenon. Abel Rémusat, in a letter to Cordier^[BU], first directed the attention of geologists to this fact. This distance, for instance, in the case of the volcano of Pe-schan, from the north or the Icy Sea at the mouth of the Obi, is 1528 miles; and from the south or the mouths of the Indus and the Ganges, 1512 miles; so central is the position of fire-emitting volcanoes in the Asiatic continent. To the west its distance from the Caspian at the Gulf of Karuboghaz, is 1360 miles, and from the east shores of the Lake of Aral, 1020 miles. The active volcanoes of the New World had hitherto offered the most remarkable examples of great distance from the sea coast, but in the case of the volcano of Popocatepetl, in Mexico, this distance is only one hundred and thirty-two miles, and only ninety-two, one hundred and four, and one hundred and fifty-six, respectively in the South American volcanoes Sangai, Tolima, and de la Fragua. All extinct volcanoes, and all trachytic mountains, which have no permanent connexion with the interior of the earth, have been excluded from these statements^[BV]. East of the volcano of Turfat, and of the fruitful Oasis of Hami, the chain of the Thian-schan merges into the great elevated tract of Gobi, which runs in a S.W. and N.E. direction. This interruption 66of the mountain chain continues for more than 9½ degrees of longitude; it is caused by the transversal intersection of the Gobi, but beyond the latter, the more southern chain of In-schan (Silver Mountains), proceeding from west to east, to the shores of the Pacific near Pekin (north of the Pe-tscheli), forms a continuation of the Thian-schan. As we may regard the In-schan as an eastern prolongation of the fissure from which the Thian-schan is upheaved, so we may also be inclined to consider the Caucasus as a western prolongation of the same range, beyond the Great Aralo-Caspian basin or of the lowlands of Turan. The mean parallel or axis of elevation of the Thian-schan oscillates between 40° 40′ and 43° north latitude; that of the Caucasus (inclining, according to the map of the Russian Staff, from E.S.E. to W.N.W.) between 41° and 44°.^[BW] Of the four parallel chains that traverse Asia, the Thian-schan is the only one of which no summit has as yet been measured.

3. The mountain system of the Kuen-lün (Kurkun or Kulkun), including the Hindoo-Coosh, with its western prolongation in the Persian Elburz and Demavend, and the American chain of the Andes, constitute the longest lines of elevation on our planet. At the point where the meridian chain of the Bolor intersects the Kuen-lün at right angles, the latter receives the name of Onion Mountains (Tchsung-ling), a term also applied to a portion of the Bolor at the inner eastern angle of intersection. Bounding Thibet in the north, the Kuen-lün runs in a regular direction from east to west, in the parallel of 36° north latitude; until the chain is broken in the meridian of H’lassa, by the vast mountain node which surrounds the Sea of Stars, Sing so-hai (so celebrated in the mythical geography of the Chinese), and the Alpine lake of Khuku-noor. The chains of Nan-schan and Kilian-schan, lying somewhat further north, and extending to the Chinese wall near Liang-tsheu, may almost be regarded as the eastern prolongation of the Kuen-lün. To the west of the intersection of the Bolor and the Kuen-lün (Tchsung-ling), the regular direction of the axes of elevation (inclining from east to west in the Kuen-lün and Hindoo-Coosh, and from south-east 67to north-west in the Himalaya) proves, as I have elsewhere attempted to show, that the Hindoo-Coosh is a prolongation of the Kuen-lün and not of the Himalaya.^[BX] From the Taurus in Lycia to the Kafiristan, the chain follows the parallel of Rhodes (the diaphragm of Dicæarchus) over a distance of 45 degrees of longitude. The grand geological views of Eratosthenes,^[BY] which were further developed by Marinus of Tyre, and by Ptolemy, and according to which “the prolongation of the Taurus in Lycia was continued, in the same direction, through all Asia as far as India,” appear in part to be based on representations derived by the Persians and Indians from the Punjaub.

“The Brahmins maintain,” says Cosmas Indicopleustes, in his Christian Topography^[BZ], “that a line drawn from Tzinitza (Thinæ) across Persia and Romania, would exactly pass over the centre of the inhabited earth.” It is remarkable, as Eratosthenes observes, that this greatest axis of elevation in the old world passes directly through the basin (the depression) of the Mediterranean, in the parallels of 35½° and 36° north latitude, to the Pillars of Hercules.^[CA] The most eastern portion of Hindoo-Coosh is the Paropanisus of the ancients, the Indian Caucasus of the companions of the great Macedonian. The name of Hindoo-Coosh, which is so frequently used by geographers, does not in reality apply to more than one single mountain pass, where the climate is so severe, as we learn from the travels of the Arabian writer, Ibn Batuta, that many Indian slaves frequently perish from the cold.^[CB] The Kuen-lün still exhibits active fire-emitting eruptions at the distance of several hundred miles from the sea-coast. Flames, visible at a great distance, burst from the cavern of the mountain of Schinkhieu, as I learn from a translation of the Yuen-thong-ki, made by my friend Stanislaus Julien.^[CC] The loftiest summit in the Hindoo-Coosh, north-west of Jellalabad, is 20,232 feet above the level of the sea; to the west, towards Herat, the 68chain sinks to 2558 feet, rising again north of Teheran, in the volcano of Demavend, to the height of 14,675 feet.

4. The mountain system of the Himalaya has a normal direction from east to west, running more than 15 degrees of longitude (from 81° to 97°), or from the colossal mountain Dhawalagiri (28,072 feet) to the intersection of the Dzangbo-tscheu (the Irawaddy of Dalrymple and Klaproth), whose existence was long regarded as problematical, and to the meridian chains, which cover the whole of Western China, and form the great mountain group, from which spring the sources of the Kiang, in the provinces of Sse-tschuan, Hu-kuang, and Kuang-si. Next to the Dhawalagiri, the Kinchinjinga, and not the more eastern peak of Schamalari, as has hitherto been supposed, is the highest point of this portion of the Himalaya, which inclines from east to west. The Kinchinjinga, in the meridian of Sikhim, between Butan and Nepal, between the Schamalari (23,980 feet) and the Dhawalagiri, is 28,174 feet in height.

It is only within the present year that it has been trigonometrically measured with exactness, and as I learn from India through the same channel, “that a new measurement of the Dhawalagiri still leaves it the first place among all the snow-crowned summits of the Himalaya,” this mountain must necessarily have a greater elevation than the 28,072 feet hitherto ascribed to it.^[CD] The point of deflection in the direction of the chain is, near the Dhawalagiri, in 81° 22′, east longitude. From thence the Himalaya no longer follows a due west direction, but runs from S.E. to N.W., as a vast connecting system of veins between Mozufer-abad and Gilgit, merging into a part of the Hindoo-Coosh chain in the south of Kafiristan. Such a turn and alteration in the line of the axis of elevation of the Himalaya (from E.-W. to S.E.-N.W.) certainly indicates, as in the western region of our European Alpine mountains, a different age or period of elevation. The course of the Upper Indus, from the sacred lakes of Manasa and Itavana-hrada, (at an elevation of 14,965 feet,) in the vicinity of which this great river takes its origin, to Iskardo, and to the plateau of Deotsuh (at an elevation of 12,994 feet), measured by Vigne, follows in the Thibetian 69highlands the same north-westerly direction as the Himalaya.

Here are situated the Djawahir, whose height was long since accurately determined at 26,902 feet, and the Alpine valley of Caschmere (never visited by winds or storms), where, at an elevation of only 5346 feet, lies the lake of Wulur, which freezes every winter, and whose surface is never broken by a single ripple.

After considering the four great mountain systems of Asia, which, in their normal geognostic character, are true parallel chains, we must turn to the long series of alternating elevations following a direction from north to south, and which extend from Cape Comorin, opposite to the island of Ceylon, to the Icy Sea, alternating between the parallels of 66° and 77° east longitude, from S.S.E. to N.N.W. To this system of meridian chains, whose alternations remind us of faults in veins, belong the Ghauts, the Soliman chain, the Paralasa, the Bolor, and the Ural range. This interruption of the profile of the elevation is so constituted, that each new chain begins in a degree of latitude beyond that to which the preceding one had attained, all alternating successively in an opposite direction. The importance which the Greeks (probably not earlier than the second century of our era) attached to these chains running from north to south, induced Agathodæmon and Ptolemy (Tab. vii. et viii.) to regard the Bolor under the name of Imaus as an axis of elevation, which extended as far as 62° north latitude into the basin of the lower Irtysch and Obi.^[CE]

As the vertical height of mountain summits above the sea’s level (however unimportant the phenomenon of the more or less extensive folding of the crust of a planetary sphere may be in the eyes of geognosists) will always continue, like all that is difficult of attainment, to be an object of general curiosity, the present would appear to furnish a fitting place for the introduction of an historical notice relative to the gradual advance of hypsometric knowledge. When I returned to Europe in 1804, after an absence of four years, not one of the high snow-crowned summits of Asia (in the Himalaya, the Hindoo-Coosh, or the Caucasus) had been yet measured with any degree of accuracy. I was unable, therefore, to 70compare my determinations of the heights of perpetual snow in the Cordilleras of Quito or the mountains of Mexico, with any results obtained in India. The important travels of Turner, Davis, and Saunders to the highlands of Thibet, were indeed accomplished in the year 1783; but the intelligent Colebrooke justly observed that the height of the Schamalari (28° 5′ north latitude, 89° 30′ east longitude, somewhat north of Tassisudan), as given by Turner, rested on a foundation quite as slight as the assumed measurements of the heights seen from Patna and Kafiristan by Colonel Crawford and Lieutenant Macartney.^[CF] The admirable labours of Webb, Hodgson, Herbert, and the brothers Gerard, have indeed thrown considerable light on the question concerning the heights of the colossal summits of the Himalaya; but yet, in 1808, the hypsometric knowledge of the East Indian mountain chains was still so uncertain, that Webb wrote to Colebrooke, “The height of the Himalaya still remains undetermined. It is true that I have ascertained that the summits visible from the elevated plains of Rohilkand are 21,000 feet higher than that plateau, but we are ignorant of their absolute height above the sea.”

In the year 1820 it first began to be currently reported in Europe that there were not only much higher summits in the Himalaya than in the Cordilleras, but that Webb had seen in the pass of Niti, and Moorcroft in the Thibetian plateau of Daba, and the sacred lakes, fine corn-fields and fertile pasturelands at elevations far exceeding the height of Mont Blanc. This announcement was received in England with great incredulity, and opposed by doubts regarding the influence of the refraction of light. I have shown the unsoundness of such doubts in two printed treatises on the mountains of India, in the Annales de Chimie et de Physique. The Tyrolese Jesuit, Father Tiefenthaler, who in 1766 penetrated as far as the provinces of Kemaun and Nepal, had already divined the importance of the Dhawalagiri. We read on his map: “Montes Albi, qui Indis Dolaghir, nive obsiti.” Captain Webb always employs the same name. Until the measurements of the Djawahir (30° 22′ north latitude, and 79° 58′ 71east longitude, 26,902 feet in elevation), and of the Dhawalagiri (28° 40′ north latitude, and 83° 21′ east longitude, 28,072 feet in elevation), were made known in Europe, the Chimborazo, which, according to my trigonometrical measurement, was 21,422 feet in height,^[CG] was still everywhere regarded as the loftiest summit on the earth. The Himalaya appeared, therefore, at that time, to be 4323 feet or 6620 feet higher than the Cordilleras, according as the comparison was made with the Djawahir or the Dhawalagiri. Pentland’s South American travels, in the years 1827 and 1838, directed attention to two snow-crowned summits of Upper Peru, east of the lake of Titicaca, which were conjectured to be respectively 3824 and 2578 feet higher than the Chimborazo.^[CH] It has been already observed,^[CI] that the most recent computations in the measurements of the Sorata and Illimani have shown the error of this hypsometric assertion. The Dhawalagiri, therefore, on whose declivity in the river-valley of Ghandaki, the Salagrana Ammonites, so celebrated in the Brahminical ritual as symbols of the testaceous incarnation of Vishnu, are collected, still indicates a difference of elevation between both continents of more than 6600 feet.

The question has been asked, whether there may not be still greater heights in the rear of the southernmost chain, which has been as yet measured with more or less exactitude. Colonel George Lloyd, who in 1840 edited the important observations of Captain Alexander Gerard and his brother, entertains the opinion, that in that part of the Himalaya, which he somewhat indefinitely names the “Tartaric Chain” (and consequently in Northern Thibet, in the direction of the Kuen-lün, perhaps in the Kailasa of the sacred lakes or beyond Leh) there are mountain-summits which attain an elevation of from 29,000 to 30,000 feet, one or two thousand feet higher, therefore, than the Dhawalagiri.^[CJ] No definite opinion can be formed on the subject until we are in the possession 72of actual measurements, since the indication which led the natives of Quito, long before the arrival of Bouguer and La Condamine, to regard the summit of the Chimborazo as the culminating point—or the highest point within the region of perpetual snow—is rendered very deceptive in the temperate zone of Thibet, where the radiation of the table-land is so effective, and where the lower limit of perpetual snow does not constitute a regular line of equal level as in the tropics. The greatest elevation above the level of the sea that has been reached by man on the sides of the Himalaya is 19,488 feet. This elevation was gained by Captain Gerard, with seven barometers, as we have already observed, on the mountain of Tarhigang, somewhat to the north-west of Schipke.^[CK] This happens to be almost the same height as that to which I myself ascended up on the Chimborazo (on the 23rd of June, 1802), and which was reached thirty years later (16th of December, 1831) by my friend Boussingault. The unattained summit of the Tarhigang is, moreover, 1255 feet higher than the Chimborazo.

The passes across the Himalaya from Hindostan to Chinese Tartary, or rather to Western Thibet, especially between the rivers Buspa and Schipke, or Langzing Khampa, are from 15,347 to 18,544 feet in height. In the chain of the Andes I found that the pass of Assuay, between Quito and Cuenca, at the Ladera de Cadlud, was also fully 15,566 feet above the level of the sea. A great part of the Alpine plains of the interior of Asia would lie buried throughout the whole year in snow and ice, if the limits of perpetual snow were not singularly elevated, probably to about 16,626 feet, by the force of the heat radiated from the Thibetian plain, the constant serenity of the sky, the rarity of the formation of snow in the dry atmosphere, and by the powerful solar heat peculiar to the eastern continental climate, which characterizes the northern declivity of the Himalaya. Fields of barley (of Hordeum hexastichon) have been seen in Kunawur at an elevation of 14,700 feet and another variety of barley, called Ooa, and allied to Hordeum cœleste, even 73much higher. Wheat thrives admirably well in the Thibetian highlands, up to an elevation of 12,000 feet. On the northern declivity of the Himalaya, Captain Gerard found that the upper limits of the birch woods ascend to 14,069 feet; and small brushwood used by the natives for fuel in their huts is even found within the parallels of 30° 45′ and 31° north latitude, at an elevation of 16,946 feet, and therefore nearly 1280 feet higher than the lower snow-limit in the equatorial regions. It follows from the data hitherto collected that on the northern declivity of the Himalaya the mean of the lower snow-line is at least 16,626 feet, whilst on the southern declivity it falls to 12,980 feet. But for this remarkable distribution of heat in the upper strata of the atmosphere, the mountain plain of Western Thibet would be rendered uninhabitable for the millions of men who now occupy it.^[CL]

In a letter which I have lately received from India from Dr. Joseph Hooker, who is engaged in meteorological and geological observations, as well as in the study of the geography of plants, he says, “Mr. Hodgson, whom we here consider more thoroughly conversant than any other geographer with the hypsometric relations of the snow ranges, recognises the correctness of the opinions you have advanced in the third part of your Asie centrale, regarding the cause of the unequal height of the limit of perpetual snow on the northern and the southern declivity of the Himalaya range. In the trans-Sutledge region (in 36° north latitude) we often observed the snow limit as high as 20,000 feet, whilst in the passes south of Brahmaputra, between Assam and Birmah (in 27° north latitude), where the most southern snow-capped mountains of Asia are situated, the snow limit sinks to 15,000 feet.” I believe we ought to distinguish between the extreme and the mean elevations, but in both we find the formerly disputed difference between the Thibetian and the Indian declivities manifested in the clearest manner.

The local differences vary still more, as may be seen from the series of extremes given in Asie centrale, t. iii., p. 295. Alexander Gerard saw the snow-limit ascend to 20,463 feet on the Thibetian declivity of the Himalaya; and Jacquemont found it as low as 11,500 feet on the south-Indian declivity, north of Cursali on the Jumnautri.

[The recent investigations of Lieutenant Strachey show that M. Humboldt has been led astray, when treating of the Himalaya, by the very authorities on whom he placed the most reliance. The results of his inquiries on this point are given in the first volume of the Cosmos (Bohn’s Ed.), pp. 9 and 338. As the subject is one of considerable interest we give a brief sketch of Lieutenant Strachey’s^[CM] recent labours, confining ourselves to his own views, and omitting (for want of space) his somewhat lengthy exposition of the errors committed by the authorities quoted by Humboldt. The following are his personal observations regarding the southern limit of the belt of perpetual snow.

“In this part of the Himalaya it is not, on an average of years, till the beginning of December, that the snow line appears decidedly to descend for the winter. After the end of September, indeed, when the rains are quite over, light falls of snow are not of very uncommon occurrence on the higher mountains, even down to 12,000 feet; but their effects usually disappear very quickly, often in a few hours. The latter part of October, the whole of November, and the beginning of December, are here generally characterised by the beautiful serenity of the sky; and it is at this season, on the southern edge of the belt, that the line of perpetual snow is seen to attain its greatest elevation.

“The following are the results of trigonometrical measurements 75of the elevation of the inferior edge of snow on spurs of the Treslú and Nandádevi groups of peaks, made, before the winter snow had begun, in November, 1848.

“The points 1, 2 and 3 are in ridges that run in a south-westerly direction. The dip of the strata being to the north-east, the faces exposed to view from the south are for the most part very abrupt, and snow never accumulates on them to any great extent. This in some measure will account for the height to which the snow is seen to have receded on the eastern exposures, that is, upwards of 17,000 feet. On the western exposures the ground is less steep, and the snow is seen to have been observed at a considerable less elevation; but it was in very small quantities, and had probably fallen lately, so that I am inclined to think that its height, viz., about 15,000 feet, rather indicates the elevation below which the light autumnal falls of snow were incapable of lying, than that of the inferior edge of the perpetual snow. It is further to be understood, that below this level of 15,000 feet the mountains were absolutely without snow, excepting those small isolated patches that are seen in ravines, or at the head of glaciers, which, of course, do not affect such calculations as these. On the whole, therefore, I consider that the height of the snow-line on the more prominent points of the southern edge of the belt may be fairly reckoned at 16,000 feet at the very least.

“The point No. 4 was selected as being in a much more retired position than the others. It is situate not far from the head of the Pindur river. It was quite free from snow at 15,300 feet, and I shall therefore consider 15,000 feet as the 76elevation of the snow-line in the re-entering angles of the chain.

“I conclude, then, that 15,500 feet, the mean of the heights at the most and least prominent points, should be assigned as the mean elevation of the snow-line at the southern limit of the belt of perpetual snow in Kumaon; and I conceive that whatever error there may be in this estimate will be found to lie on the side of diminution rather than of exaggeration.

“This result appears to accord well with what has been observed in the Bissehir range. The account given by Dr. Gerard of his visit to the Shátúl Pass on this range, which he undertook expressly for the purpose of determining the height of the snow-line, contains the only definite information as to the limit of the perpetual snow at the southern edge of the belt that is to be found in the whole of the published writings of the Gerards; and the following is a short abstract of his observations. Dr. Gerard reached the summit of the Shátúl Pass, the elevation of which is 15,500 feet, on the 9th of August, 1822, and remained there till the 15th of the same month. He found the southern slope of the range generally free from snow, and he states that it is sometimes left without any whatever. On the top of the pass itself there was no snow; but on the northern slope of the mountain it lay as far down as about 14,000 feet. On his arrival rain was falling, and out of the four days of his stay on this pass it either rained or snowed for the greater part of three. The fresh snow that fell during this time did not lie below 16,000 feet, and some of the more precipitous rocks remained clear even up to 17,000 feet.

“The conclusion to which Dr. Gerard comes from these facts is, that the snow-line on the southern face of the Bissehir range is at 15,000 feet above the sea. But I should myself be more inclined, from his account, to consider that 15,500 feet was nearer the truth; and in this view I am confirmed by verbal accounts of the state of the passes on this range, which I have obtained from persons of my acquaintance, who have crossed them somewhat later in the year. The difference, however, is after all trifling.

“Such is the direct evidence that can be offered on the height of the snow-line at the southern limit of the belt of perpetual snow: some additional light, may, however, be 77thrown on the subject generally by my shortly explaining the state in which I have found the higher parts of the mountains at the different seasons during which I have visited them.

“In the beginning of May, on the mountains to the east of the Rámganga river, near Námik, I found the ground on the summit of the ridge, called Champwá, not only perfectly free from snow at an elevation of 12,000 feet, but covered with flowers, in some places golden with calsha and ranunculus polypetalus, in others purple with primulus. The snow had in fact already receded to upwards of 12,500 feet, behind which even a few little gentians proclaimed the advent of spring.

“Towards the end of the same month, at the end of the Pindur, near the glacier from which that river rises, an open spot on which I could pitch my tent could not be found above 12,000 feet. But here the accumulation of snow, which was considerable in all ravines even below 11,000 feet, is manifestly the result of avalanches and drift. The surface of the glacier, clear ice as well as moraines, was quite free from snow up to nearly 13,000 feet; but the effect of the more retired position of the place in retarding the melting of the snow, was manifest from the less advanced state of the vegetation. During my stay at Pinduri the weather was very bad, and several inches of snow fell; but, excepting where it had fallen on the old snow, it all melted off again in a few hours, even without the assistance of the sun’s direct rays. On the glacier, at 13,000 feet, it had all disappeared twelve hours after it fell.

“On revisiting Pinduri about the middle of October, the change that had taken place was very striking. Now not a sign of snow was to be seen on any part of the road up to the very head of the glacier; a luxuriant vegetation had sprung up, but had already almost entirely perished, and its remains covered the ground as far as I went. From this elevation, about 13,000 feet, evident signs of vegetation could be seen to extend far up the less precipitous mountains. The place is not one at which the height of the perpetual snow can be easily estimated, for on all sides are glaciers, and the vast accumulations of snow from which they are supplied, and these cannot always be readily distinguished from snow in situ; but as far as I could judge, those places which might be 78considered as offering a fair criterion were free from snow up to 15,000, or even 16,000 feet.

“Towards the end of August I crossed the Barjikang Pass, between Rálam and Juhár, the elevation of which is about 15,300 feet. There was here no vestige of snow on the ascent to the pass from the south-east, and only a very small patch remained on the north-western face. The view of the continuation of the ridge in a southerly direction was cut off by a prominent point, but no snow lay on that side within 500 feet of the pass, while to the north I estimated that there was no snow in considerable quantity within 1500 feet or more, that is, nearly up to 17,000 feet. The vegetation on the very summit of the pass was far from scanty, though it had already begun to break up into tufts, and had lost that character of continuity which it had maintained to within a height of 500 or 600 feet. Species of Potentilla, Sedum, Saxifraga, Corydalis, Aconitum, Delphinium, Thalictrum, Ranunculus Saussurea, Gentiana, Pedicularis, Primula, Rheum, and Polygonum, all evidently flourishing in a congenial climate, showed that the limits of vegetation and region of perpetual snow were still far distant.

“In addition to these facts, it may not be out of place to mention that there are two mountains visible from Almorah, Rigoli-gúdri, in Garhwal between the Kailganga and Nandákni, and Chipula, in Kumaon, between the Gori and Dauli (of Darma), both upwards of 13,000 feet in elevation, from the summits of which the snow disappears long before the end of the summer months, and which do not usually again become covered for the winter till late in December.”

These remarks are followed by an exposition of the errors into which Webb, Colebrooke, Hodgson, A. Gerard, and Jacquemont, have fallen. The heights assigned by these travellers “must all be rejected; nor can it be considered at all surprising that any amount of mistake, as to the height of the snow-line, should be made, so long as travellers cannot distinguish snow from glacier ice, or look for the boundary of perpetual snow at the beginning of the spring.”

With regard to the northern limit of the belt of perpetual snow, Lieutenant Strachey’s observations were made in September, 1848, on his way from Milam into Hundes, viâ Unta-dhúra, Kyungar-ghát, and Balch-dhúra, at the beginning of 79the month; and on his road back again, viâ Lakhur-ghát, at the end of the month.

“Of the three passes that we crossed on our way from Milam, all of them being about 17,000 feet in elevation, the first is Wata-dhára, and we saw no snow on any part of the way up to its top, which was reached in a very disagreeable drizzle of rain and snow. The final ascent to the pass from the south is about 1000 feet. The path leads up the side of a ravine, down which a small stream trickles, the ground having a generally even and rounded surface. Neither on any part of this nor on the summit of the pass itself, which is tolerably level, were there any remains of snow whatever. On the ridge to the right and left there were patches of snow a few hundred feet above; and on the northern face of the pass an accumulation remained that extended about 200 feet down, apparently the effect of the drift through the gap in which the pass lies. Below this again the ground was everywhere quite free from snow. On the ascent to Wata-dhára, at perhaps 17,000 feet, a few blades of grass were seen, but on the whole it may be said to have been utterly devoid of vegetation. On the north side of the pass, 300 or 400 feet below the summit, a cruciferous plant was the first met with.

“The Kyungar pass, which is four or six miles north of Wata-dhára, was found equally free from snow on its southern face and summit, which latter is particularly open and level. The mountains on either side were also free from snow to some height; but on the north a large bed lay a little way down the slope, and extended to about 500 feet from the top. On this pass a boragineous plant in flower was found above 17,000 feet; a species of Urtica was also got about the same altitude, and we afterwards saw it again nearly as high up on the Lakhur pass.

“In our ascent to the Balch pass no snow was observed on any of the southern spires of the range, and only one or two very small patches could be seen from the summit on the north side. The average height of the top of this range can hardly be more than 500 feet greater than that of the pass; and as a whole it certainly does not enter the region of perpetual snow. As viewed from the plains of Handes, it cannot be said to appear snowy, a few only of the peaks being tipped.

80“We returned to Milam viâ Chirchun. The whole of the ascent to The Lakhur pass was perfectly free from snow to the very top, i.e. 18,300 feet, and many of the neighbouring mountains were bare still higher. The next ridge on this route is Jainti-dhára, which is passed at an elevation of 18,500 feet, but still without crossing the least portion of snow. The line of perpetual snow is however evidently near; for though the Jainti ridge was quite free, and some of the peaks near us were clear probably to upwards of 19,000 feet, yet in more sheltered situations unbroken snow could be seen considerably below us; and on the whole I think that 18,500 feet must be near the average height of the snow-line at this place.”

A brief recapitulation of the principal results of Lieutenant Strachey’s inquiries shows us that “the snow-line or the southern edge of the belt of perpetual snow in this portion of the Himalaya is at an elevation of 15,000 feet, while on the northern edge it reaches 18,500 feet; and that on the mountains to the north of the Sutlej, or still further, it recedes even beyond 19,000 feet. The greater elevation which the snow-line attains on the northern edge of the belt of perpetual snow is a phenomenon not confined to the Thibetan declivity alone, but extending far into the interior of the chain; and it appears to be caused by the quantity of snow that falls on the northern portion of the mountains being much less than that which falls farther to the south along the line where the peaks, covered with perpetual snow, first rise above the less elevated ranges of the Himalaya.”

The letters of Dr. Joseph Hooker published during the present year (1849) in the Athenæum (pp. 431 and 1039) may also be consulted with advantage.

11. p. 5—“A tawny tribe of Herdsmen.”

The Hiongnu (Hioung-nou), whom Deguignes and with him many other historians long believed to be identical with the Huns, inhabited the vast Tartarian tract of land which is bordered on the east by Uo-leang-ho, the present territory of the Mant-schu, on the south by the Chinese wall, on the west by the U-siün, and on the north by the land of the Eleuthes But the Hiongnu belong to the Turkish, and the Huns to the Finnish or Uralian race. The northern Huns, a rude people of herdsmen, unacquainted with agriculture, were of a blackish 81brown complexion. The southern Huns, or Hajatehah called by the Byzantines Euthalites or Nephthalites, and inhabiting the eastern shore of the Caspian Sea, had fairer skins. These pursued agriculture, and dwelt in towns. They are frequently termed White Huns, and d’Herbelot even regards them as Indo-Scythians. In Deguignes^[CN] an account will be found of the Punu, the leader or Tanju of the Huns, and of the great drought and famine which led to the migration of a portion of the nation northwards about the year 46 A.D. All the details, given in his celebrated work regarding the Hiongnu, have been recently submitted by Klaproth to a rigid and learned scrutiny. From the result of his investigations it would appear, that the Hiongnu belong to the widely diffused Turkish races of the Altai and Tangnu mountain districts. The name of Hiongnu was a general name for the Ti, Thu-kiu or Turks, in the north and north-west of China, even in the third century before the Christian era. The southern Hiongnu submitted themselves to the Chinese, and in conjunction with the latter destroyed the empire of the northern Hiongnu, who were in consequence compelled to flee to the west, and thus appear to have given the first impulse to the migration of nations in Central Asia. The Huns, who were long confounded with the Hiongnu (as the Uigures were with the Ugures and Hungarians) belonged, according to Klaproth,^[CO] to the Finnish race of the Uralian mountains, which race has been variously intermixed with Germans, Turks, and Samoiedes.

The Huns (Οὖννοι) are first mentioned by Dionysius Periegetes, a writer who was able to obtain more accurate information than others regarding the interior of Asia, because, as a learned man and a native of Charax on the Arabian Gulf, he was sent back to the East by Augustus, to accompany thither his adopted son, Caius Agrippa. Ptolemy, a century later, writes the word Χοῦνοι with a strong aspiration, which, as St. Martin observes, is again met with in the geographical name of Chunigard.

12. 82p. 6—“No hewn stone.”

Representations of the sun and figures of animals have certainly been found graven in rocks on the banks of the Orinoco, near Caicara, where the woody region borders on the plain, but in the Llanos themselves not a trace of these rough memorials of earlier inhabitants has ever been discovered. It is to be regretted that no accurate account has reached us of a monument which was sent to Count Maurepas, in France, and which, according to Kalm, was discovered in the prairies of Canada, 900 French leagues (about 2700 English miles) west of Montreal, by M. de Verandrier, while engaged on an expedition to the coast of the Pacific Ocean.^[CP] This traveller met in the plains with huge masses of stone erected by the hand of man, on one of which there was an inscription believed to be in the Tartar language^[CQ]. How can so important a monument have remained uninvestigated? Can it actually have borne an alphabetical inscription, or are we not rather to believe that it must have been an historical picture, like the so-called Phœnician inscription, which has been discovered on the bank of the Taunton river, and whose authenticity has been questioned by Court de Gebelin? I indeed regard it as highly probable that these plains were once traversed by civilised nations, and it seems to me that this fact is proved by the existence of pyramidal grave-works or burrows and bulwarks of extraordinary length, between the Rocky Mountains and the Alleghanys, on which Squier and Davis have now thrown new light in their account of the ancient monuments of the Mississippi valley.^[CR] M. de Verandrier was despatched, about the year 1746, on this expedition by the Chevalier de Beauharnois, Governor-General of Canada; and several Jesuits in Quebec assured Kalm that they had actually had this so-called inscription in their hands, and that it was graven on a small tablet which was found inlaid in a hewn pillar. I have in vain requested several of my friends in France to make inquiries regarding this monument, in the event of its being in the Collection of Count Maurepas. I have also found equally uncertain accounts 83of the alphabetical writing of the American aboriginal races, in a work of Pedro de Cieça de Leon,^[CS] in Garcia,^[CT] and in Columbus’s^[CU] journal of his first voyage. M. de Verandrier maintained also that traces of the ploughshare were observed for days together in travelling over the grassy plains of Western Canada; a circumstance that other travellers, prior to him, likewise profess to have noticed. But the utter ignorance of the primitive nations of North America regarding this implement of agriculture, the want of beasts of draught, and the vast extent of surface over which these tracks extend through the prairie, tend rather to make me adopt the opinion that this singular appearance of furrows is owing to some movement of water over the earth’s surface.

13. p. 6—“It spreads like an arm of the sea.”

The great steppe, which extends from the mouth of the Orinoco to the snowy mountains of Merida, from east to west, deflects towards the south in the parallel of 8° north latitude, and occupies the whole space between the eastern declivity of the elevated mountains of New Granada and the Orinoco, which here flows in a northerly direction. That portion of the Llanos, which is watered by the Meta, Vichada, Zama, and Guaviare, connects as it were the valley of the Amazon with that of the Lower Orinoco. The word Paramo, which I have frequently employed in this work, signifies in the Spanish colonies all alpine regions which are situated from 11,000 to 14,000 feet above the level of the sea, and whose climate is rude, ungenial, and misty. In the higher Paramos hail and snow fall daily for many hours continuously, and yield a beneficial supply of humidity to the alpine plants, not from the absolute quantity of vapour in the higher strata of the air, but by the frequency of the aqueous deposits occasioned by the rapidly changing currents of air, and the variations of the electric tension. The trees found in these regions are low, and spread out in an umbrella-like form, have gnarled branches, which are constantly covered with fresh and evergreen foliage. They are 84mostly large-flowering laurel and myrtle-leaved alpine shrubs Escallonia tubar, Escallonia myrtilloides, Chuquiraga insignis, Araliæ, Weinmanniæ, Frezieræ, Gualtheriæ, and Andromeda reticulata, may be regarded as the representatives of the physiognomy of this vegetation.^[CV] To the south of the town of Santa Fé de Bogota lies the celebrated Paramo de la Suma Paz, an isolated mountain group, in which, according to Indian legends, great treasures are concealed; and hence issues a small stream or brook, which pours its foaming waters through a remarkable natural bridge in the rocky ravine of Icononzo.

In my Latin treatise, De Distributione geographica Plantarum secundum cœli temperiem et altitudinem montium, 1817, p. 104, I have thus endeavoured to characterise these Alpine regions: “Altitudine 1700–1900 hexapod: asperriæ solitudines, quæ a colonis hispanis uno nomine Paramos appellantur, tempestatum vicissitudinibus mire obnoxiæ, ad quas solutæ et emollitæ defluunt nives; ventorum flatibus ac nimborum grandinisque jactu tumultuosa regio, quæ æque per diem et per noctes riget, solis nubila et tristi luce fere nunquam calefacta. Habitantur in hac ipsa altitudine sat magnæ civitates, ut Micuipampa Peruvianorum, ubi thermometrum centes. meridie inter 5° et 8°, noctu –0°.4 consistere vidi; Huancavelica, propter cinnabaris venas celebrata, ubi altitudine 1835 hexap. fere totum per annum temperies mensis Martii Parisiis.”

14.

p. 6—“The Cordilleras of Cochabamba and the Brazilian mountains approximate to one another by means of separate transverse chains.”

The immense space between the eastern coasts of South America and the eastern declivity of the chain of the Andes is contracted by two mountain masses, which partially separate from one another the three valleys or plains of the Lower Orinoco, the Amazon, and the Rio de la Plata. The more northern mountain mass, called the group of the Parime, is opposite to the Andes of Cundinamarca, which, after extending far towards the east, assume the form of one elevated mountain, between the parallels of 66° and 68° west longitude. It is connected by the narrow mountain ridge of Pacaraima with the granitic hills of French Guiana, as I have clearly indicated in the map of Columbia which I drew up from my own 85astronomical observations. The Caribs, in their long expeditions from the missions of Carony to the plains of Rio Branco, and even to the Brazilian frontier, are obliged to traverse the crests of Pacaraima and Quimiropaca. The second group of mountains, which separates the valley of the Amazon from that of La Plata, is the Brazilian, which approximates to the promontory of Santa Cruz de la Sierra, in the province of Chiquitos, west of the Parecis hills. As neither the group of the Parime, which gives rise to the cataracts of the Orinoco, nor the Brazilian group, is directly connected with the chain of the Andes, the plains of Venezuela and those of Patagonia are directly connected with one another.^[CW]

15. p. 6—“Herds of wild dogs.”

In the Pampas of Buenos Ayres the traveller meets with European dogs, which have become wild. They live gregariously in holes and excavations, in which they conceal their young. When the horde becomes too numerous, several families go forth, and form new settlements elsewhere. The European dog barks as loudly after it has become wild, as does the indigenous American hairy species. Garcilaso asserts that, prior to the arrival of the Spaniards, the Peruvians had a race of dogs called Perros gozques; and he calls the indigenous dog Allco. In order to distinguish this animal from the European variety, it is called in the Quichua language Runa-allco, Indian dog, or dog of the natives. The hairy Runa-allco appears to be a mere variety of the shepherd’s dog. It is, however, smaller, has long yellow-ochry coloured hair, is marked with white and brown spots, and has erect and pointed ears. It barks continually, but seldom bites the natives, however it may attack the whites. When the Inca Pachacutec, in his religious wars, conquered the Indians of Xauxa and Huanca (the present valley of Huancaya and Jauja), and compelled them by force to submit to the worship of the sun, he found that dogs were made the objects of their adoration, and that the priests used the skulls of these animals as wind instruments. It would also appear that the flesh of this canine divinity was eaten by the believers.^[CX] The veneration of dogs in the valley of the 86Huancaya is probably the reason why the skulls, and even whole mummies, of these animals are sometimes found in the Huacas, or Peruvian graves of the most ancient period. Von Tschudi, the author of an admirable treatise on the Fauna Peruana, has examined these skulls, and believes them to belong to a peculiar species, which he calls Canis ingæ, and which is different from the European dog. The Huancas are still, in derision, called “dog-eaters” by the inhabitants of other provinces. Among the natives of the Rocky Mountains of North America, cooked dog’s flesh is placed before the stranger guest, as a feast of honour. Captain Frémont was present at such a dog-feast in the neighbourhood of Fort Laramie, which is one of the stations of the Hudson’s Bay Company for trading in skins and peltries with the Sioux Indians.^[CY]

The Peruvian dogs were made to play a singular part during eclipses of the moon, being beaten as long as the darkness continued. The Mexican Techichi, a variety of the common dog, which was called in Anahuac Chichi, was the only completely dumb dog. The literal signification of the word Techichi is “stone-dog,” from the Aztec, tetl, a stone. This dog was eaten according to the ancient Chinese custom, and the Spaniards found this food so indispensable before the introduction of horned cattle, that the race was gradually almost entirely extirpated.^[CZ] Buffon confounds the Techichi with the Koupara of Guiana,^[DA] which is, however, identical with the Procyon or Ursus cancrivorus, the Raton crabier, or the crab-eating Aguara-guaza of the coasts of Patagonia.^[DB] Linnæus, on the other hand, confounds the dumb dog with the Mexican Itzcuintepotzotli, a canine species which has not hitherto been perfectly described, and which is said to be characterised by a short tail, a very small head, and a large hump on the back. The name signifies a hump-backed dog, and is derived from the Aztec itzcuintli, another word for dog, and tepotzotli, humped or a humpback. I was much struck in America, especially in Quito and Peru, with the great number of black hairless dogs. They are termed Chiens turcs by Buffon, and are the Canis ægyptius of Linnæus. This species is common amongst the Indians, who, however, 87generally despise them, and treat them ill. All European dogs multiply rapidly in South America; and if no species are to be met with equal to those of Europe, it is partly owing to want of care, and partly to the circumstance that the finest varieties (as the elegant greyhound and the Danish tiger breed) have never been introduced.

Von Tschudi makes the singular remark, that on the Cordilleras, at elevations of more than 12,000 feet, delicate breeds of dogs and the European domestic cat are exposed to a particular kind of mortal disease. “Innumerable attempts have been made to keep cats as domestic animals in the town of Cerro de Pasco (lying at an elevation of 14,100 feet above the sea’s level); but such endeavours have invariably been frustrated, as both cats and dogs have died in convulsions at the end of a few days. The cats, after being attacked by convulsive fits, attempt to climb the walls, but soon fall to the ground exhausted and motionless. I frequently observed instances in Yauli of this chorea-like disease; and it seems to arise from insufficient atmospheric pressure.” In the Spanish colonies, the hairless dog, which is called Perro chinesco, or chino, is supposed to be of Chinese origin, and to have been brought from Canton, or from Manila. According to Klaproth, the race has been very common in the Chinese Empire from the earliest ages of its culture. Among the animals indigenous to Mexico, there was a very large, totally hairless, and dog-like wolf, named Xoloitzcuintli, from the Mexican xolo or xolotl, a servant or slave.^[DC]

The result of Tschudi’s observations regarding the American indigenous races of dogs are as follows:—There are two varieties almost specifically different—1. The Canis caraibicus of Lesson, totally hairless, with the exception of a small tuft of white hair on the forehead and at the tip of the tail; of a slate-gray colour, and without voice. This variety was found by Columbus in the Antilles, by Cortes in Mexico, and by Pizarro in Peru (where it suffers from the cold of the Cordilleras); and it is still very frequently met with in the warmer districts of Peru, under the name of Perros chinos. 2. The Canis ingæ, which belongs to the barking species, and has a pointed nose and pointed ears; it is now used for watching sheep and cattle; it exhibits many variations of colour, induced 88by being crossed with European breeds. The Canis ingæ follows man up the heights of the Cordilleras. In the old Peruvian graves, the skeleton of this dog is sometimes found resting at the feet of the human mummy, presenting an emblem of fidelity frequently employed by the mediæval sculptors.^[DD] European dogs, that had become wild, were found in the island of St. Domingo, and in Cuba, in the early periods of the Spanish conquest.^[DE] In the savannahs between the Meta, Arauca, and Apure, dumb dogs (perros mudos) were used as food as late as the sixteenth century. The natives called them Majos or Auries, says Alonzo de Herrera, who undertook an expedition to the Orinoco, in 1535. The highly intelligent traveller Gisecke found this variety of non-barking dogs in Greenland. The dogs of the Esquimaux live entirely in the open air, scraping for themselves at night holes in the snow, and howling like wolves, in concert with one of the troop, who sits in the middle, and takes the lead in the chorus. The Mexican dogs were castrated, in order that their flesh might become more fat and delicate. On the borders of the province of Durango, and further north, near the Slave Lake, the natives load the larger dogs with their buffalo-skin tents, (at all events they did so formerly,) when, on the change of seasons, they seek a different place of abode. These various details may all be regarded as characteristic of the mode of life led by the nations of Eastern Asia.^[DF]

16. p. 7—“Like the greater part of the Desert of Sahara, the Llanos lie within the Torrid Zone.”

Significant denominations, particularly such as refer to the form of the earth’s surface, and which arose at a period when there was only very uncertain information respecting different regions and their hypsometric relations, have led to various and long-continued geographical errors. The ancient Ptolemaic denomination of the “Greater and Lesser Atlas”^[DG] has exercised the injurious influence here indicated. There is no doubt that the snow-covered western summits of the Atlas of Morocco may 89be regarded as the Great Atlas of Ptolemy; but where is the limit of the Little Atlas? Are we still to maintain the division into two Atlas chains (which the conservative tendency of geographers has retained for 1700 years) in the territory of Algiers, and even between Tunis and Tlemse? Are we to seek a Greater and a Lesser Atlas between the coast and the parallel chains of the interior? All travellers familiar with geognostic views, who have visited Algeria since it has been in the possession of the French, contest the meaning conveyed by the generally adopted nomenclature. Among the parallel chains, that of Jurjura is generally supposed to be the highest of those which have been measured; but the well-informed Fournel (who was long Ingénieur en chef des Mines de l’Algérie) affirms that the mountain range of Aurès, near Batnah, which even at the end of March was found covered with snow, has a greater elevation. Fournel contests the existence of a Little and a Great Atlas, as I do that of a Little and a Great Altai^[DH]. There is but one Atlas, formerly called Dyris by the Mauritanians, “a name that must be applied to the foldings (rides, suites de crêtes), which form the division between the waters flowing to the Mediterranean and towards the lowland of the Sahara.” The lofty Atlas chain of Morocco inclines from north-east to south-west, and not, like the Eastern Mauritanian portion of the Atlas, from east to west. It rises into summits which, according to Renou, attain an elevation of 11,400 feet, exceeding, therefore, the height of Etna^[DI]. A singularly formed highland, of an almost square shape (Sahab el-Marga), is situated in 33° north lat., and is bounded to the south by high elevations. From thence the Atlas declines in height in a westerly direction towards the sea, about a degree south of Mogador. This south-western portion bears the name of Idrar-N-Deren.

The northern boundaries of the extended low region of the Sahara in Mauritania, as well as its southern limits towards the fertile Sudan, have hitherto been but imperfectly investigated. If we take the parallels of 16½° and 32½° north lat. as the outer limits, we obtain for the Desert, including its oases, an area of more than 1,896,000 square miles; 90or between nine and ten times the extent of Germany, and almost three times that of the Mediterranean, exclusive of the Black Sea. The best and most recent intelligence, for which we are indebted to the French observers, Colonel Daumas, and MM. Fournel, Renou, and Carette, shows us that the Desert of Sahara is composed of several detached basins, and that the number and the population of the fertile Oases is very much greater than had been imagined from the awfully desert character of the country between Insalah and Timbuctoo, and the road from Mourzouk, in Fezzan, to Bilma, Tirtuma, and Lake Tschad. It is now generally affirmed that the sand covers only the smaller portion of the lowlands. A similar opinion had been previously advanced by my Siberian travelling companion, the acute observer Ehrenberg, from what he had himself seen^[DJ]. Of larger wild animals, only gazelles, wild asses, and ostriches are to be met with.

“That lions exist in the desert,” says M. Carette, “is a myth popularised by the dreams of artists and poets, and has no foundation but in their imagination. This animal does not quit the mountains where it finds shelter, food, and drink. When the traveller questions the natives concerning these wild beasts, which Europeans suppose to be their companions in the desert, they reply, with imperturbable sang froid, ‘Have you, then, lions in your country which can drink air and eat leaves? With us lions require running water and living flesh; and therefore they only appear where there are wooded hills and water. We fear only the viper (lefa), and, in humid spots, the innumerable swarms of mosquitoes which abound there.^[DK]’”

While Dr. Oudney, in his long journey from Tripoli to Lake Tschad, estimated the elevation of the Southern Sahara at 1637 feet, and German geographers even ventured to add an additional thousand feet, Fournel, the engineer, has, by careful barometric measurements, based on corresponding observations, made it tolerably probable that a part of the northern desert is below the sea’s level. The portion of the desert which is now called “Le Zahara d’Algérie,” advances to the chains of hills of Metlili and el-Gaous, where lies the most northern of all the Oases, el-Kantara, fruitful in dates. This low basin, which reaches the parallel of 34° lat., receives 91the radiant heat of a stratum of chalk, inclined at an angle of 65° towards the south, and which is full of the shells of Inoceramus^[DL]. “Arrived at Biscara (Biskra),” says Fournel, “an indefinite horizon, like that of the sea, lay spread before us.” Between Biscara and Sidi Ocba the land is only 243 feet above the sea’s level. The inclination increases considerably towards the south. In another work^[DM], where I have brought together all the points that refer to the depression of some portions of continents below the level of the sea, I have already noticed that, according to Le Père, the bitter lakes (lacs amers) on the isthmus of Suez, when they have but little water, and, according to General Andréossy, the Natron lakes of Fayoum, are also lower than the level of the Mediterranean.

Among other manuscript notices of M. Fournel, I possess a geognostic vertical profile, with all the inflexions and inclinations of the strata, representing the surface the whole way from the coast near Philippeville to a spot near the Oasis of Biscara in the Desert of Sahara. The direction of the line on which the barometric measurements were taken is south 20° west; but the points of elevation determined are projected, as in my Mexican profiles, on a different plane, one from N. to S. Ascending uninterruptedly from Constantine, whose elevation is 2123 feet, the highest point is found between Batnah and Tizur, at only 3581 feet. In the part of the desert which lies between Biscara and Tuggurt, Fournel has succeeded in digging a series of artesian wells^[DN]. We learn from the old accounts of Shaw, that the inhabitants of the country were acquainted with a subterranean supply of water, and related fabulous tales of a “sea under the earth (bahr tôhl el-erd).” Fresh waters, which flow between clay and marl strata of the old chalk and other sedimentary formations, under the action of hydrostatic pressure, form gushing fountains when the strata are pierced^[DO]. The phenomenon of fresh water being often found near beds of rock salt, need not surprise the geognosist, acquainted with mining operations, since Europe offers many analogous phenomena.

92The riches of the desert in rock-salt, and its employment for purposes of building, have been known since the time of Herodotus. The salt zone of the Sahara (zone salifère du désert) is the most southern of the three zones which pass through Northern Africa from south-west to north-east, and is believed to be connected with the beds of rock-salt in Sicily and Palestine described by Friedrich Hoffman, and by Robinson^[DP].

The trade in salt with Sudan, and the possibility of cultivating the date-tree in the many Oasis-like depressions, caused probably by earth-slips in the beds of tertiary chalk or Keuper-gypsum, have equally contributed to animate the desert, at various parts, by human intercourse. The high temperature of the air, which renders the day’s march so oppressive across the Sahara, makes the coolness of the night (of which Denham and Sir Alexander Burnes frequently complained in the African and Asiatic deserts) so much the more remarkable. Melloni^[DQ] ascribes this coolness (which is probably produced by the radiation of heat from the ground), not to the great purity of the heavens (irraggiamento calorifico per la grande serenità di cielo nell’ immensa e deserta pianura dell’ Africa centrale), but to the extreme calm, and the absence of all movement in the air throughout the whole night^[DR].

The river Quad-Dra (Wadi Dra), which is almost dry the greater part of the year, and which, according to Renou^[DS], is one-sixth longer than the Rhine, flows into the Sahara in 32° north latitude, from the southern declivity of the Atlas of Morocco. It runs at first from north to south, until in 29° north lat., and 5° 8′ west long., it deflects at right angles to the west, and traversing the great fresh-water lake of Debaid, flows into the sea at Cape Nun, in lat. 28° 46′, and long. 11° 8′. This region, which was first rendered celebrated by the Portuguese discoveries of the fifteenth century, and whose geography has subsequently been shrouded in the deepest obscurity, is now known on the coast as the country of the Scheik of Beirouk 93(whose dominions are independent of the Emperor of Morocco). It was explored, in the months of July and August, 1840, by the French Count, Captain de Bouet-Villaumez, under the orders of his government. From manuscript and official reports it would appear that the mouth of the Quad-Dra is at present so much blocked up by sand as to have an open channel of only about 190 feet. The Saguiel-el-Hamra,—still very little known,—which comes from the south, and is supposed to have a course of at least 600 miles, flows into the same mouth at a point somewhat farther eastward. The length of these deep, but generally dry, river-beds is astonishing. They are ancient furrows, similar to those which I observed in the Peruvian desert at the foot of the Cordilleras, between the latter and the shores of the Pacific. In Bouet’s manuscript narrative^[DT], the mountains which rise to the north of Cape Nun are estimated at the great height of 9,186 feet.

It is generally supposed that Cape Nun was discovered in 1433 by the Knight Gilianez, despatched under the order of the celebrated Infante, Henry, Duke of Viseo, and founder of the Academy of Sagres, which was presided over by the pilot and cosmographer, Mestre Jacomè, of Majorca; but the Portulano Mediceo,—the work of a Genoese navigator of the year 1351,—already contains the name of “Cavo di Non.” The doubling of this Cape was as much dreaded as has been since then the passage round Cape Horn; although it is only 23′ north of the parallel of Teneriffe, and might be reached by a few days’ sail from Cadiz. The Portuguese adage, “Quem passa o Cabo de Num, ou tornarà ou não,” could not intimidate the Infante, whose heraldic French motto of “Talent de bien faire,” well expressed his noble, enterprising, and vigorous character. The name of this Cape, which has long been supposed to originate in a play of words on the negative particle, does not appear to me to be of Portuguese origin. Ptolemy placed on the north-west coast of Africa a river Nuius, in the Latin version Nunii ostia. Edrisi refers to a town, Nul, or Wadi Nun, somewhat further south, and about three days’ journey in the interior, named by Leo Africanus Belad de Non. Several European navigators had penetrated far to the south of Cape Nun before the Portuguese squadron under Gilianez. The Catalan, Don Jayme Ferrer, in 1346, as we learn from the Atlas Catalan, published at 94Paris by Buchon, had advanced as far as the Gold River (Rio do Ouro), in 23° 56′ north lat.; while the Normans, at the close of the fourteenth century, reached Sierra Leone in 8° 30′ north latitude. The merit of having been the first to cross the equator in the Western Ocean incontrovertibly belongs, like so many other great achievements, to the Portuguese.

17. p. 7.—“As a grassy plain, resembling many of the Steppes of Central Asia.”

The Llanos of Caracas, of the Rio Apure and the Meta, which are the abode of numerous herds of cattle, are, in the strictest sense of the word, grassy plains. The two families of the Cyperaceæ and the Gramineæ, which are the principal representatives of the vegetation, yield numerous forms of Paspalum (Paspalum leptostachyum, P. lenticulare), of Kyllingia (Kyllingia monocephala (Rottb.), K. odorata), of Panicum (Panicum granuliferum, P. micranthum), of Antephora, Aristida, Vilfa, and Anthisteria (Anthisteria reflexa, A. foliosa). It is only here and there that any herbaceous dicotyledon, as the low-growing species of Mimosa intermedia and M. dormiens, which are so grateful to the wild horses and cattle, are found interspersed among the Gramineæ. The natives very characteristically apply to this group the name of “Dormideras,” or sleepy plants, because the delicate and feathery leaves close on being touched. For many square miles not a tree is to be seen; but where a few solitary trees are found, they are, in humid districts, the Mauritia Palm, and, in arid spots, a Proteacea described by Bonpland and myself, the Rhopala complicata (Chaparro bobo), which Willdenow regarded as an Embothrium; also the useful Palma de Covija or de Sombrero; and our Corypha inermis, an umbrella palm allied to Chamærops, and used by the natives for the covering of their huts. How much more varied and rich is the aspect of the Asiatic plains! In a great portion of the Kirghis and Kalmuck Steppes which I have traversed (extending over a space of 40 degrees of longitude), from the Don, the Caspian Sea and the Orenburg-Ural river Jaik, to the Obi and the Upper Irtysch, near the Lake Dsaisang, the extreme range of view is never bounded by a horizon in which the vault of heaven appears to rest on an unbroken sea-like plain, as is so frequently the case in the Llanos, Pampas, and Prairies of America. I have, indeed, 95never observed anything approaching to this phenomenon, excepting, perhaps, where I have looked only towards one quarter of the heavens, for the Asiatic plains are frequently intersected by chains of hills, or clothed with coniferous woods. The Asiatic vegetation, too, in the most fruitful pasture lands, is by no means limited to the family of the Cyperaceæ, but is enriched by a great variety of herbaceous plants and shrubs. In the season of spring, small snowy white and red flowering Rosaceæ and Amygdaleæ (Spiræa, Cratægus, Prunus spinosa, Amygdalus nana), present a pleasing appearance. I have elsewhere spoken of the tall and luxuriant Synanthereæ (Saussurea amara, S. salsa, Artemisiæ, and Centaureæ), and of leguminous plants, (species of the Astragalus, Cytisus and Caragana). Crown Imperials (Fritillaria ruthenica and F. meleagroides), Cypripediæ and tulips gladden the eye with their varied and bright hues.

A contrast is presented to this charming vegetation of the Asiatic plains by the dreary Salt Steppes, especially by that portion of the Barabinski Steppe which lies at the base of the Altai Mountains, between Barnaul and the Serpent Mountain, and by the country to the east of the Caspian. Here the social Chenopodiæ, species of Salsola, Atriplex, Salicorniæ, and Halimocnemis crassifolia^[DU], cover the clayey soil with patches of verdure. Among the five hundred phanerogamic species which Claus and Göbel collected on the Steppes, Synanthereæ, Chenopodiæ, and Cruciferæ were more numerous than the grasses; the latter constituting only ¹⁄₁₁th of the whole, and the two former ⅐th and ⅑th. In Germany, owing to the alternation of hills and plains, the Glumaceæ (comprising the Gramineæ, Cyperaceæ, and Juncaceæ) constitute ⅐th, the Synanthereæ (Compositæ) ⅛th, and the Cruciferæ ¹⁄₁₈th of all the German Phanerogamic species. In the most northern part of the flat land of Siberia, the extreme limit of tree and shrub vegetation (Coniferæ and Amentaceæ) is, according to Admiral Wrangell’s fine map, 67° 15′ north lat., in the districts contiguous to Behring’s Straits, while more to the west, towards the banks of the Lena, it is 71°, which is the parallel of the North Cape of Lapland. The plains bordering on the Polar Sea are the domain of Cryptogamic plants. They are called Tundra (Tuntur in Finnish), and are vast swampy districts, covered 96partly with a thick mantle of Sphagnum palustre and other Liverworts, and partly with a dry snowy-white carpet of Cenomyce rangiferina (Reindeer-moss), Stereocaulon paschale, and other lichens. “These Tundra,” says Admiral Wrangell, in his perilous expedition to the Islands of New Siberia, so rich in fossil wood, “accompanied me to the extremest Arctic coast. Their soil is composed of earth that has been frozen for thousands of years. In the dreary uniformity of the landscape, and surrounded by reindeer, the eye of the traveller rests with pleasure on the smallest patch of green turf that shows itself on a moist spot.”

18. p. 7.—“A diversity of causes diminishes the dryness and heat of the New Continent.”

I have endeavoured to compress the various causes of the humidity and lesser heat of America into one general category. It will of course be understood, that I can only have reference here to the general hygroscopic condition of the atmosphere, and the temperature of the whole continent; for in considering individual regions, as for instance, the island of Margarita, or the coasts of Cumana and Coro, it will be found that these exhibit an equal degree of dryness and heat with any portion of Africa.

The maximum of heat, at certain hours of a summer’s day, considered with reference to a long series of years, has been found to be almost the same in all regions of the earth, whether on the Neva, the Senegal, the Ganges, or the Orinoco, namely, between 93° and 104° Fahr., and on the whole not higher; provided that the observation be made in the shade, far from solid radiating bodies, and not in an atmosphere filled with heated dust or granules of sand, and not with spirit-thermometers, which absorb light. The fine grains of sand (forming centres of radiant heat) which float in the air, were probably the cause of the fearful heat (122° to 133° Fahr. in the shade) in the Oasis of Mourzouk to which my unhappy friend Ritchie, who perished there, and Captain Lyon, were exposed for weeks. The most remarkable instance of a high temperature, in an air probably free from dust, is mentioned by an observer who well knew how to arrange and correct all his instruments with the greatest accuracy. Rüppel found the temperature 110°.6 Fahr. at Ambukol, in Abyssinia, with a cloudy sky, a strong south-west wind, and an approaching thunder-storm. 97The mean annual temperature of the tropics, or the actual climate of the region of palms, is on the main land between 78°.2 and 85°.5 Fahr., without any sensible difference between the observations made in Senegal, Pondichery, and Surinam^[DV].

The great coolness, one might almost say coldness, which prevails during a great portion of the year in the tropics, on the coast of Peru, and which causes the mercury to fall to 59° Fahr., is, as I hope to show in another place, not to be attributed to the effect of neighbouring mountains covered with snow, but rather to the mist (garua) which obscures the sun’s disk, and to a current of cold sea-water commencing in the antarctic regions, and which coming from the south-west, strikes the coast of Chili near Valdivia and Concepcion, and is thence propelled with violence, in a northerly direction, to Cape Pariña. On the coast of Lima, the temperature of the Pacific is 60°.2 Fahr., whilst it is 79°.2 Fahr. under the same parallel of latitude when outside the current. It is singular, that so remarkable a fact should have remained unnoticed, until my residence on the coast of the Pacific, in October, 1802.

The variations of temperature, of many parts of the earth, depend principally on the character of the bottom of the aërial ocean, or in other words, on the nature of the solid or fluid (continental or oceanic) base on which the atmosphere rests. Seas, traversed in various directions by currents of warm and cold water (oceanic rivers), exert a different action from articulated or inarticulated continental masses or islands, which may be regarded as the shoals in the aërial ocean, and which, notwithstanding their small dimensions, exercise, even to great distances, a remarkable degree of influence on the climate of the sea. In continental masses, we must distinguish between barren sandy deserts, savannahs, (grassy plains,) and forest districts. In Upper Egypt and in South America, Nouet and myself found, at noon, the temperature of the ground, which was composed of granitic sand, 154° and 141° Fahr. Numerous careful observations instituted at Paris, have given, according to Arago, 122° and 126°.5 Fahr.^[DW] The Savannahs, which, between the Missouri and the Mississippi, are called Prairies, and which appear in the south at 98the Llanos of Venezuela and the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, are covered with small monocotyledons, belonging to the family of the Cyperaceæ, and with grasses, whose dry pointed stalks, and whose delicate, lanceolate leaves radiate towards the unclouded sky, and possess an extraordinary power of emission. Wells and Daniell^[DX] have even seen in our latitude, where the atmosphere has a much less considerable degree of transparency, the thermometer fall to 14°.5, or 18° Fahr. on being placed on the grass. Melloni has most ably shown^[DY] that in a calm, which is a necessary condition of a powerful radiation, and of the formation of dew, the cooling of the stratum of grass is promoted by the falling to the ground of the cooler particles of air, as being the heavier.

In the vicinity of the equator, under the cloudy sky of the Upper Orinoco, the Rio Negro and the Amazon, the plains are covered with dense primeval forests; but to the north and south of this woody district, there extend, from the zone of palms and of tall dicotyledonous trees in the northern hemisphere, the Llanos of the Lower Orinoco, the Meta, and Guaviare; and in the south, the Pampas of the Rio de la Plata and of Patagonia. The area thus covered by grassy plains, or Savannahs, in South America, is at least nine times greater than that of France.

The forest region acts in a threefold manner, by the coolness induced by its shade, by evaporation, and by the cooling process of radiation. Forests uniformly composed in our temperate zone of “social” plants, belonging to the families of the Coniferæ or Amentaceæ (the oak, beech, and birch), and under the tropics composed of plants not living socially, protect the ground from direct insolation, evaporate the fluids they have themselves produced, and cool the contiguous strata of air by the radiation of heat from their leafy appendicular organs. The leaves are by no means all parallel to one another, and present different inclinations towards the horizon; and according to the laws established by Leslie and Fourier, the influence of this inclination on the quantity of heat emitted by radiation is such, that the radiating power of a given measured surface a, having a given oblique direction, is equal to the radiating power of a leaf of the size of a projected on a horizontal 99plane. In the initial condition of radiation of all the leaves which form the summit of a tree, and which partially cover each other, those which are directly presented towards the unclouded sky, will be first cooled.

This production of cold (or the exhaustion of heat by emission) will be the more considerable in proportion to the thinness of the leaves. A second stratum of leaves has its upper surface turned to the under surface of the former, and will give out more heat by radiation towards that stratum than it can receive from it. The result of this unequal exchange will then be a diminution of temperature for the second stratum also. A similar action will extend from stratum to stratum, till all the leaves of the tree, by their greater or less radiation, as modified by their difference of position, have passed into a condition of stable equilibrium, of which the law may be deduced by mathematical analysis. In this manner, in the serene and long nights of the equinoctial zone, the forest air, which is contained in the interstices between the strata of leaves, becomes cooled by the process of radiation; for a tree, a horizontal section of whose summit would hardly measure 2000 square feet, would, in consequence of the great number of its appendicular organs (the leaves), produce as great a diminution in the temperature of the air as a space of bare land or turf many thousand times greater than 2000 square feet.^[DZ] I have thus sought to develope somewhat fully the complicated relations which the action of great forest regions exerts on the atmosphere, because they have so often been touched upon in connection with the important question of the climate of ancient Germany and Gaul.

As in the old continent, European civilization has had its principal seat on the western coast, it could not fail to be early remarked that under equal degrees of latitude the opposite eastern littoral region of the United States of North America was several degrees colder, in mean annual temperature, than Europe, which is, as it were, a western peninsula of Asia, and bears much the same relation to it as Brittany does to the rest of France. The fact, however, escaped notice that these differences decrease from the higher to the lower latitudes, and that they are hardly perceptible below 30°. For the west coast of the New Continent exact observations 100of the temperature are still almost entirely wanting; but the mildness of the winter in New California shows that in reference to their mean annual temperature, the west coasts of America and Europe under the same parallels, scarcely present any differences. The annexed table gives the mean annual temperatures, which correspond to the same geographical latitudes, on the eastern coast of the New Continent and the western coast of Europe:—

In the preceding table the number placed before the fraction represents the mean annual temperature, the numerator of the fraction, the mean winter temperature, and the denominator the mean summer temperature. Besides the more marked difference between the mean annual temperatures, there is also a very striking contrast between the opposite coasts in respect to the distribution of heat over the different seasons of the year; and it is indeed this distribution which exerts the greatest influence on our bodily feelings and on the process of vegetation. Dove^[EA] makes the general remark, that 102the summer temperature of America is lower under equal degrees of latitude than that of Europe. The climate of St. Petersburgh (lat. 59° 56′), or to speak more correctly, the mean annual temperature of that city, is found on the eastern coast of America, in lat. 47° 30′, or 12° 30′ more to the south; and in like manner we find the climate of Königsberg (lat. 54° 43′) at Halifax in lat. 44° 39′. Toulouse (lat. 43° 36′) corresponds in its thermic relations to Washington.

It is very hazardous to attempt to obtain any general results respecting the distribution of heat in the United States of North America, since there are three regions to be distinguished—1, the region of the Atlantic States, east of the Alleghanys; 2, the Western States, in the wide basin between the Alleghanys and the Rocky Mountains, watered by the Mississippi, the Ohio, the Arkansas, and the Missouri; and 3, the elevated plains between the Rocky Mountains and the Coast Range of New California, through which the Oregon or Columbia river wends its course. Since the commendable establishment by John Calhoun of uninterrupted observations of temperature, made on a uniform plan, at thirty-five military stations, and reduced to diurnal, mensal, and annual means, we have attained more correct climatic views than were generally held in the time of Jefferson, Barton, and Volney. These meteorological stations extend from the point of Florida and Thompson’s Island (West Key), lat. 24° 33′, to the Council Bluffs on the Missouri; and if we reckon Fort Vancouver (lat. 45° 37′), among them, they include a space extending over forty degrees of longitude.

It cannot be affirmed that on the whole the second region has a higher mean annual temperature than the first, or Atlantic. The further advance towards the north of certain plants on the western side of the Alleghanys, depends partly on the nature of those plants and partly on the different distribution through the seasons of the year of the same annual amount of heat. The broad valley of the Mississippi enjoys, at its northern extremity, the warming influence of the Canadian lakes, and at the south, that of the Mexican Gulf-Stream. These five lakes (Lakes Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie, and Ontario,) cover an area of 92,000 square miles. The climate is so much milder and more uniform in the vicinity of the lakes, that at Niagara, for instance (in 43° 15′ 103north lat.), the mean annual winter temperature is only half a degree below the freezing-point, whilst, at a distance from the lakes, in 44° 53′ north lat. at Fort Snelling, near the confluence of the river St. Peter with the Mississippi, the mean winter temperature is 15°.8 Fahr.^[EB] At this distance from the Canadian lakes, whose surface is from five to upwards of six hundred feet above the sea’s level, whilst the bottom of Lakes Michigan and Huron is five hundred feet below it, recent observations have shown that the climate of the country possesses the actual continental character of hotter summers and colder winters. “It is proved,” says Forry, “by our thermometrical data, that the climate west of the Alleghany chain is more excessive than that on the Atlantic side.” At Fort Gibson, on the Arkansas river, which falls into the Mississippi, in lat. 35° 47′, where the mean annual temperature hardly equals that of Gibraltar, the thermometer was observed, in August, 1834, to rise to 117° Fahr. when in the shade, and without any reflected heat from the ground.

The statements so frequently advanced, although unsupported by measurements, that since the first European settlements in New England, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, the destruction of many forests on both sides of the Alleghanys, has rendered the climate more equable,—making the winters milder and the summers cooler,—are now generally discredited. No series of thermometric observations worthy of confidence extend further back in the United States than seventy-eight years. We find from the Philadelphia observations that from 1771 to 1824, the mean annual heat has hardly risen 2°.7 Fahr.;—an increase that may fairly be ascribed to the extension of the town, its greater population, and to the numerous steam-engines. This annual increase of temperature may also be owing to accident, for in the same period I find that there was an increase of the mean winter temperature of 2° Fahr.; but with this exception the seasons had all become somewhat warmer. Thirty-three years’ observations at Salem in Massachusetts show scarcely any difference, the mean of each one oscillating within 1° of Fahrenheit, about the mean of the whole number; and the winters of Salem, instead of having been rendered more mild, as conjectured, from the eradication 104of the forests, have become colder by 4° Fahr. during the last thirty-three years.^[EC]

As the east coast of the United States may be compared, in equal latitudes, with the Siberian and Chinese eastern coasts of Europe, in respect to mean annual temperature, so the western coasts of Europe and America have also very justly been compared together. I will here only adduce a few instances from the western region of the Pacific, for two of which, viz., Sitka. (New Archangel,) in Russian America, and Fort George. (having the same latitudes respectively as Gottenburg and Geneva,) we are indebted to Admiral Lütke’s voyage of circumnavigation. Iluluk and Danzig are situated in about the same parallel of latitude, and although the mean temperature of Iluluk, owing to its insular climate and the cold sea current contiguous to it, is lower than that of Danzig, the winters of the former are milder than those of the Baltic city.

Snow is hardly ever seen on the banks of the Oregon or Columbia river, and ice on the river lasts only a few days. The lowest temperature which Mr. Ball ever observed there (in 1838) was 18°.4 Fahr.^[ED] A cursory glance at the summer and 105winter temperatures given above, suffices to show that a true insular climate prevails on and near the western coasts; whilst the winter cold is less considerable than in the western part of the old continent, the summers are much cooler. This contrast is made most apparent when we compare the mouth of the Oregon with Forts Snelling and Howard, and the Council Bluffs in the interior of the Mississippi and Missouri basin, (44°–46° north lat.,) where, to speak with Buffon, we find an excessive or true continental climate,—a winter cold, which on some days is –32° or even –37° Fahr., followed by a mean summer’s heat, which rises to 69° and 71°.4 Fahr.

19. p. 8.—“As if America had emerged later from the chaotic covering of waters.”

The acute natural inquirer Benjamin Smith Barton, expresses himself thus accurately:^[EE]—“I cannot but deem it a puerile supposition, unsupported by the evidence of nature, that a great part of America has probably later emerged from the bosom of the ocean than the other continents.” I have already elsewhere treated of this subject in a memoir on the primitive nations of America:^[EF]—“The remark has been too frequently made by authors of general and well-attested merit that America was in every sense of the word a new continent. The luxuriance of vegetation, the vast mass of waters in the rivers, and the continued activity of great volcanoes, confirm the fact (say these writers,) that the still agitated and humid earth is in a condition approximating more closely to the chaotic primordial state of our planet than the old continent. Such ideas appeared to me, long before my travels in those regions, no less unphilosophical than at variance with generally acknowledged physical laws. These imaginary representations of an earlier age and a want of repose, and of the increase of dryness and inertia with the increased age of our globe, could only have been framed by those who seek to discover striking contrasts between the two hemispheres, and who do not endeavour to consider the construction of our terrestrial planet from one grand and general point of view. Are we to regard the southern as more recent than the northern part of Italy, simply because the former is almost constantly disturbed by earthquakes and volcanic eruptions? How 106inconsiderable, moreover, are the phenomena presented by our volcanoes and earthquakes, when compared with the convulsions of nature which the geognosist must conjecture to have occurred in the chaotic condition of our globe, when mountain masses were upheaved, solidified, or cleft asunder? Different causes must also occasion a diversity of effects in the forces of nature in parts of the earth remote from one another. The volcanoes in the new continent,” (of which I still count about twenty-eight,) “may probably have continued longer active, because the high mountain ridges on which they are erupted in rows upon long fissures are nearer to the sea, and because this vicinity appears to modify the energy of the subterranean fire, in a manner which, with few exceptions, has not yet been explained. Besides, both earthquakes and fire-erupting mountains act periodically. At present” (this I wrote forty-two years ago,) “physical disquietude and political repose prevail in the new continent, whilst in the old continent the calm repose of nature is contrasted with the dissensions of different nations. The time may however come, when this strange contrast between physical and moral forces may change its theatre of action from one quarter of the world to another. Volcanoes enjoy centuries of repose between their manifestations of activity; and the idea that in the older countries nature must be characterized by a certain repose and quietude, has no other foundation than in the mere caprice of the imagination. There exists no reason for assuming that one side of our planet is older or more recent than the other. Islands, as the Azores and many flat islands of the Pacific, which have been upheaved by volcanoes, or been gradually formed by coral animals, are indeed more recent than many plutonic formations of the European central chain. Small tracts of land, as Bohemia and Kashmeer, and many of the valleys in the moon, inclosed by a ring of mountains, may continue for a long time under the form of a sea, owing to partial inundations, and after the flowing off of these inland waters, the bottom, on which plants would gradually manifest themselves, might indeed be figuratively regarded as of more recent origin. Islands have been connected together into continental masses by upheaval, whilst other parts of the previously existing land have disappeared in consequence of the subsidence of the oscillating ground; but general submersions can, from hydrostatic laws, only be imagined as embracing simultaneously 107all parts of the earth. The sea cannot permanently submerge the vast lowlands of the Orinoco and the Amazon, without at the same time destroying our Baltic lands. Moreover the succession and identity of the floetz strata, and of the organic remains of plants and animals belonging to the primitive world, inclosed in those strata, show that several great depositions have occurred almost simultaneously over the whole earth.”^[EG]

20. p. 8.—“The Southern Hemisphere is cooler and more humid than the Northern.”

Chili, Buenos Ayres, the southern part of Brazil, and Peru, enjoy the cool summers and mild winters of a true insular climate, owing to the narrowness and contraction of the continent towards the south. This advantage of the Southern Hemisphere is manifested as far as 48° or 50° south lat., but beyond that point, and nearer the Antarctic Pole, South America is an inhospitable waste. The different degrees of latitude at which the southern extremities of Australia, including Van Diemen’s Island, of Africa, and America, terminate, give to each of these continents its peculiar character. The Straits of Magellan lie between the parallels of 53° and 54° south lat.; and notwithstanding this, the thermometer falls to 41° Fahr. in the months of December and January, when the sun is eighteen hours above the horizon. Snow falls almost daily in the lowlands, and the maximum of atmospheric heat observed by Churruca in 1788, during the month of December, and consequently in the summer of that region, did not exceed 52°.2 Fahr. The Cabo Pilar, whose turret-like rock is only 1394 feet in height, and which forms the southern extremity of the chain of the Andes, is situated in nearly the same latitude as Berlin.^[EH]

Whilst in the Northern Hemisphere all continents fall, in their prolongation towards the Pole, within a mean limit, which corresponds tolerably accurately with 70°, the southern extremities of America. (in Tierra del Fuego, which is so 108deeply indented by intersecting arms of the sea,) of Australia, and of Africa, are respectively 34°, 46° 30′ and 56° distant from the South Pole. The temperature of the unequal extents of ocean which separate these southern extremities from the icy Pole contributes essentially towards the modification of the climate. The areas of the dry land of the two hemispheres separated by the equator are as 3 to 1. But this deficiency of continental masses in the Southern Hemisphere is greater in the temperate than in the torrid zone, the ratio being in the former at 13 to 1, and in the latter as 5 to 4. This great inequality in the distribution of dry land exerts a perceptible influence on the strength of the ascending atmospheric current, which turns towards the South Pole, and on the temperature of the Southern Hemisphere generally. Some of the noblest forms of tropical vegetation, as for instance tree-ferns, advance south of the equator to the parallels of from 46° to 53°, whilst to the north of the equator they do not occur beyond the tropic of Cancer.^[EI] Tree-ferns thrive admirably well at Hobart Town in Van Diemen’s Land (42° 53′ lat.), with a mean annual temperature of 52°.2 Fahr., and therefore on an isothermal line less by 3°.6 Fahr. than that of Toulon. Rome, which is almost one degree of latitude further from the equator than Hobart Town, has an annual temperature of 59°.7 Fahr.; a winter temperature of 46°.6 Fahr., and a summer temperature of 86° Fahr.; whilst in Hobart Town these three means are respectively 52°, 42°.1, and 63° Fahr. In Dusky Bay, New Zealand, tree-ferns thrive in 46° 8′ lat., and in the Auckland and Campbell Islands in 53° lat.^[EJ]

In the Archipelago of Tierra del Fuego, having a mean winter temperature of 33° Fahr., and a mean summer temperature of only 50° Fahr., in the same latitude as Dublin, Captain King found “vegetation thriving most luxuriantly in large woody-stemmed trees of Fuchsia and Veronica;” whilst this vigorous vegetation, which, especially on the western coast of America (in 38° and 40° south lat.), has been so picturesquely described by Charles Darwin, suddenly disappears south of Cape Horn, on the rocks of the Southern Orkney and Shetland Islands, and of the Sandwich Archipelago. These islands, but scantily covered with grass, moss, and 109lichens, Terres de Désolation, as they have been called by French navigators, lie far to the north of the Antarctic Polar Circle; whilst in the Northern Hemisphere, in 70° lat., on the extremest verge of Scandinavia, fir-trees reach a height of more than 60 feet.^[EK] If we compare Tierra del Fuego, and more particularly Port Famine, in the Straits of Magellan, 53° 38′ lat., with Berlin, which is situated one degree nearer the equator, we shall find for Berlin, 47°.3 38°.9
62°.3; and for Port Famine, 42°.6 34°.7
50°.0 Fahr. I subjoin the few certain data of temperature which we at present possess of the temperate zones of the Southern Hemisphere, and which may be compared with the temperatures of northern regions in which the distribution of summer heat and winter cold is so unequal. I make use of the convenient mode of notation already explained in which the number standing before the fraction indicates the mean annual temperature, the numerator the winter, and the denominator the summer temperature.

21. 110p. 9.—“One connected sea of sand.”

As we may regard the social Erica as furnishing one continuous vegetable covering spread over the earth’s surface, from the mouth of the Scheldt to the Elbe, and from the extremity of Jutland to the Harz mountains, so may we likewise trace the sea of sand continuously through Africa and Asia, from Cape Blanco to the further side of the Indus, over an extent of 5,600 miles. The sandy region mentioned by Herodotus, which the Arabs call the Desert of Sahara, and which is interrupted by oases, traverses the whole of Africa like a dried arm of the sea. The valley of the Nile is the eastern boundary of the Lybian desert. Beyond the Isthmus of Suez and the porphyritic, syenitic, and greenstone rocks of Sinai begins the Desert mountain plateau of Nedschd, which occupies the whole interior of the Arabian Peninsula, and is bounded to the west and south by the fruitful and more highly favoured coast-lands of Hedschaz and Hadhramaut. The Euphrates forms the eastern boundary of the Arabian and Syrian desert. The whole of Persia, from the Caspian Sea to the Indian Ocean, is intersected by immense tracts of sand (bejaban), among which we may reckon the soda and potash Deserts of Kerman, Seistan, Beludschistan, and Mekran. The last of these barren wastes is separated by the Indus from the Desert of Moultan.

22. p. 9.—“The western portion of Mount Atlas.”

The question of the position of the Atlas of the ancients has often been agitated in our own day. In making this inquiry, ancient Phœnician traditions are confounded with the statements of the Greeks and Romans regarding Mount Atlas at a less remote period. The elder Professor Ideler, who combined a profound knowledge of languages with that of astronomy and mathematics, was the first to throw light on this obscure subject; and I trust I may be pardoned if I insert the communications with which I have been favoured by this enlightened observer.

“The Phœnicians ventured at a very early period in the world’s history to penetrate beyond the Straits of Gibraltar. They founded Gades and Tartessus on the Spanish, and Lixus, together with many other cities on the Mauritanian coasts of the Atlantic Ocean. They sailed northward along these shores 111to the Cassiterides, from whence they obtained tin, and to the Prussian coasts where they procured amber found there; whilst southward they penetrated as far as Madeira and the Cape de Verd Islands. Amongst other regions they visited the Archipelago of the Canary Isles, where their attention was arrested by the Peak of Teneriffe, whose great height appears to be even more considerable than it actually is from the circumstance of the mountain projecting directly from the sea. Through their colonies established in Greece, especially under Cadmus in Bœotia, the Greeks were made acquainted with the existence of this mountain which soared high above the region of clouds, and with the ‘Fortunate Islands’ on which this mountain was situated, and which were adorned with fruits of all kinds, and particularly with the golden orange. By the transmission of this tradition through the songs of the bards, Homer became acquainted with these remote regions, and he speaks of an Atlas to whom all the depths of ocean are known, and who bears upon his shoulders the great columns which separate from one another the heavens and the earth,^[EL] and of the Elysian Plains, described as a wondrously beautiful land in the west.”^[EM] Hesiod expresses himself in a similar manner regarding Atlas, whom he represents as the neighbour of the Hesperides.^[EN] The Elysian Plains, which he places at the western limits of the earth, he terms the ‘Islands of the Blessed.’^[EO] Later poets have still further embellished these myths of Atlas, the Hesperides, their golden apples, and the Islands of the Blessed, which are destined to be the abode of good men after death, and have connected them with the expeditions of the Tyrian God of Commerce, Melicertes, the Hercules of the Greeks.

“The Greeks did not enter into rivalship with the Phœnicians and Carthaginians in the art of navigation until a comparatively late period. They indeed visited the shores of the Atlantic, but they never appear to have advanced very far. It is doubtful whether they had penetrated as far as the Canary Isles and the Peak of Teneriffe; but be this as it may, they were aware that Mount Atlas, which their poets had described 112as a very high mountain situated on the western limits of the earth, must be sought on the western coast of Africa. This too was the locality assigned to it by their later geographers Strabo, Ptolemy, and others. As however no mountain of any great elevation was to be met with in the north-west of Africa, much perplexity was entertained regarding the actual position of Mount Atlas, which was sought sometimes on the coast, sometimes in the interior of the country, and sometimes in the vicinity of the Mediterranean, or further southward. In the first century of the Christian era, when the armies of Rome had penetrated to the interior of Mauritania and Numidia, it was usual to give the name of Atlas to the mountain chain which traverses Africa from west to east in a parallel direction with the Mediterranean. Pliny and Solinus were both, however, fully aware that the description of Atlas given by the Greek and Roman poets did not apply to this mountain range, and they therefore deemed it expedient to transfer the site of Mount Atlas, which they described in picturesque terms, in accordance with poetic legends, to the terra incognita of Central Africa. The Atlas of Homer and Hesiod can, therefore, be none other than the Peak of Teneriffe, while the Atlas of Greek and Roman geographers must be sought in the north of Africa.”

I will only venture to add the following remarks to the learned explanations of Professor Ideler. According to Pliny and Solinus, Atlas rises from the midst of a sandy plain (e medio arenarum), and its declivity affords pasture to elephants, which have undoubtedly never been known in Teneriffe. That which we now term Atlas is a long mountain ridge. How could the Romans have recognised one isolated conical elevation in this mountain range of Herodotus? May the cause not be ascribed to the optical illusion by which every mountain chain, when seen laterally from an oblique point of view, appears to be of a narrow and conical form? I have often, when at sea, mistaken long mountain ranges for isolated mountains. According to Höst, Mount Atlas is covered with perpetual snow near Morocco. Its elevation must therefore be upwards of 11,500 feet at that particular spot. It seems to me very remarkable that the barbarians, the ancient Mauritanians, if we are to believe the testimony of Pliny, called Mount Atlas Dyris. This mountain chain 113is still called by the Arabs Daran, a word that is almost identical in its consonants with Dyris. Hornius,^[EP] on the other hand, thinks that he recognises the term Dyris in the word Ayadyrma, the name applied by the Guanches to the Peak of Teneriffe.^[EQ]

As our present geological knowledge of the mountainous parts of North Africa, which, however, must be admitted to be very limited, does not make us acquainted with any traces of volcanic eruptions within historic times, it seems the more remarkable that so many indications should be found in the writings of the Ancients of a belief in the existence of such phenomena in the Western Atlas and the contiguous west coast of the continent. The streams of fire so often mentioned in Hanno’s Ship’s Journal might indeed have been tracks of burning grass, or beacon fires lighted by the wild inhabitants of the coasts as a signal to warn each other of threatening danger on the first appearance of hostile vessels. The high summit of the “Chariot of the Gods,” of which Hanno speaks (the θεῶν ὄχημα), may also have had some faint reference to the Peak of Teneriffe; but farther on he describes a singular configuration of the land. He finds in the gulf, near the Western Horn, a large island, in which there is a salt lake, which again contains a smaller island. South of the Bay of the Gorilla Apes the same conformation is repeated. Does he refer to coral structures, lagoon islands (Atolls), and to volcanic crater lakes, in the middle of which a conical mountain has been upheaved? The Triton Lake was not in the neighbourhood of the lesser Syrtis, but on the western shores of the Atlantic.^[ER] The lake disappeared in an earthquake, which was attended with great fire-eruptions. Diodorus^[ES] says expressly πυρὸς εκφυτήματα μεγάλα. But the most wonderful configuration is ascribed to the hollow Atlas, in a passage hitherto but little noticed in one of the philosophical 114Dialexes of Maximus Tyrius, a Platonic philosopher who lived in Rome under Commodus. His Atlas is situated “on the continent where the Western Lybians inhabit a projecting peninsula.” The mountain has a deep semi-circular abyss on the side nearest the sea; and its declivities are so steep that they cannot be descended. The abyss is filled with trees, and “one looks down upon their summits and the fruits they bear as if one were looking into a well.”^[ET] The description is so minute and graphic that it no doubt sprung from the recollection of some actual view.

23. p. 9.—“The Mountains of the Moon, Djebel-al-Komr.”

The Mountains of the Moon described by Ptolemy,^[EU] σελήνης ὄρος, form on our older maps a vast uninterrupted mountain chain, traversing the whole of Africa from east to west. The existence of these mountains seems certain; but their extent, their distance from the equator, and their mean direction, still remain problematical. I have indicated in another work^[EV] the manner in which a more intimate acquaintance with Indian idioms and the ancient Persian or Zend teaches us that a part of the geographical nomenclature of Ptolemy constitutes an historical memorial of the commercial relations that existed between the West and the remotest regions of Southern Asia and Eastern Africa. The same direction of ideas is apparent in relation to a subject that has very recently become a matter of investigation. It is asked, whether the great geographer and astronomer of Pelusium merely meant in the denomination of Mountains of the Moon (as in that of “Island of Barley,” (Jabadiu, Java) to give the Greek translation of the native name of those mountains; whether, as is most probable, El-Istachri, Edrisi, Ibn-al-Vardi, and other early Arabian geographers, simply transferred the Ptolemaic nomenclature into their own language; or whether similarity in the sound of the word and the manner in which it was written misled them? In the notes to the translation of Abd-Allatif’s celebrated description of Egypt, my great teacher, Silvestre de Sacy,^[EW] expressly says, “The 115name of the mountains regarded by Leo Africanus as furnishing the sources of the Nile, has generally been rendered ‘Mountains of the Moon,’ and I have adhered to the same practice. I do not know whether the Arabs originally borrowed this denomination from Ptolemy. It may indeed be inferred that at the present day they understand the word قمر in the sense of moon, pronouncing it kamar; I do not think however, that such was the practice of the older Arabs, who pronounced it komr, as has been proved by Makrizi. Aboulfeda positively rejects the opinion of those who would adopt the pronunciation kamar, and derive the word from the name of the moon. As, according to the author of Kamous, the word komr, considered as the plural of اقمر, signifies an object of a greenish or dirty white colour, it would appear that some authors have supposed that this mountain derived its name from its colour.”

The learned Reinaud, in his recent excellent translation of Abulfeda (t. ii., p. i., pp. 81, 82), regards it as probable that the Ptolemaic interpretation of the name of Mountains of the Moon (ὄρη σεληναῖα) was that originally adopted by the Arabs. He observes that in the Moschtarek of Yakut, and in Ibn-Said, the mountain is written al-Komr, and that Yakut writes in a similar manner the name of the Island of Zendj (Zanguebar). The Abyssinian traveller Beke, in his learned and critical treatise on the Nile and its tributaries,^[EX] endeavours to prove that Ptolemy, in his σελήνης ὄρος, merely followed the native name, for the knowledge of which he was indebted to the extensive commercial intercourse which then existed. He says, “Ptolemy knew that the Nile rises in the mountainous district of Moezi, and in the languages which are spoken over a great part of Southern Africa (as, for instance, in Congo, Monjou, and Mozambique), the word moezi signifies the moon. A large tract of country situated in the south-west was called Mono-Muezi, or Mani-Moezi, i.e., the land of the King of Moezi (or Moon-land); for in the same family of languages in which moezi or muezi signifies the moon, mono or mani signifies a king. Alvarez^[EY] speaks 116of the ‘regno di Manicongo,’ or territory of the king of Congo.” Beke’s opponent, Ayrton, seeks the sources of the White Nile (Bahr el-Abiad), not as do Arnaud, Werne, and Beke, near the equator, or south of it (in 31° 22′ E. long. from Greenwich), but far to the north-east, as does Antoine d’Abbadie, in the Godjeb and Gibbe of Eneara (Iniara), therefore in the high mountains of Habesch, in 7° 20′ north lat., and 35° 22′ east long. from Greenwich. He is of opinion that the Arabs, from a similarity of sound, may have interpreted the native name Gamaro, which was applied to the Abyssinian mountains lying south-west of Gaka, and in which the Godjeb (or White Nile) takes its rise, to signify a mountain of the moon (Djebel al-Kamar); so that Ptolemy himself, who was familiar with the intercourse existing between Abyssinia and the Indian Ocean, may have adopted the Semitic interpretation, as given by the descendants of the early Arab immigrants.^[EZ]

The lively interest which has recently been felt in England for the discovery of the most southern sources of the Nile induced the Abyssinian traveller above referred to, (Charles Beke) at a recent meeting of the “British Association for the advancement of Science,” held at Swansea, more fully to develope his ideas respecting the connection between the Mountains of the Moon and those of Habesch. “The Abyssinian elevated plain,” he says, “generally above 8000 feet high, extends towards the south to nearly 9° or 10° north latitude. The eastern declivity of the highlands has, to the inhabitants of the coast, the appearance of a mountain chain. The plateau, which diminishes considerably in height towards its southern extremity, passes into the Mountains of the Moon, which run not east and west, but parallel to the coast, or from N.N.E. to S.S.W., extending from 10° north to 5° south latitude. The sources of the White Nile are situated in the Mono-Moezi country, probably in 2° 30′ south latitude, not far from where the river Sabaki, on the eastern side of the Mountains of the Moon, falls into the Indian Ocean, near Melindeh, north of Mombaza. Last autumn (1847), the two Abyssinian missionaries Rebmann and Dr. Krapf 117were still on the coast of Mombaza. They have established in the vicinity, among the Wakamba tribe, a missionary station, called Rabbay Empie, which seems likely to be very useful for geographical discoveries. Families of the Wakamba tribe have advanced westward five or six hundred miles into the interior of the country, as far as the upper course of the river Lusidji, the great lake Nyassi or Zambeze (5° south lat.?), and the vicinal sources of the Nile. The expedition to these sources, which Friedrich Bialloblotzky, of Hanover, is preparing to undertake” (by the advice of Beke), “is to start from Mombaza. The Nile coming from the west referred to by the ancients is probably the Bahr-el-Ghazal, or Keilah, which falls into the Nile in 9° north lat., above the mouth of the Godjeb or Sobat.”

Russegger’s scientific expedition—undertaken in 1837 and 1838, in consequence of Mehemet Ali’s eager desire to participate in the gold washings of Fazokl on the Blue (Green) Nile, Bahr el-Azrek—has rendered the existence of a Mountain of the Moon very doubtful. The Blue Nile, the Astapus of Ptolemy, rising from Lake Coloe (now called Lake Tzana), winds through the colossal Abyssinian range of mountains; while to the south-west there appears a far extended tract of low land. The three exploring expeditions which the Egyptian Government sent from Chartum to the confluence of the Blue and the White Nile (the first under the command of Selim Bimbaschi, in November, 1839; the next, which was attended by the French engineers Arnaud, Sabatier, and Thibaut, in the autumn of 1840; and the third, in the month of August, 1841), first removed some of the obscurity which had hitherto shrouded our knowledge of the high mountains, which between the parallels of 6°–4°, and probably still further southward, extend first from west to east, and subsequently from north-west to south-east, towards the left bank of the Bahr-el-Abiad. The second of Mehemet Ali’s expeditions first saw the mountain chain, according to Werne’s account, in 11° 20′ north lat., where Gebel Abul and Gebel Kutak rise to the height of 3623 feet. The high land continued to approach the river more to the south from 4° 45′ north lat. to the parallel of the Island of Tchenker in 4° 4′, near the point at which terminated the expedition commanded by Selim and Feizulla Effendi. The shallow river breaks its way through 118the rocks, and separate mountains again rise in the land of Bari to the height of more than 3200 feet. These are probably a part of the Mountains of the Moon, as they are given in our most recent maps, although they are not covered with perpetual snow, as asserted by Ptolemy.^[FA] The line of perpetual snow would assuredly not be found in these parallels of latitude below an elevation of nearly 15,500 feet above the sea’s level. It is not improbable that Ptolemy extended the knowledge he may have possessed of the high mountains of Habesch, near Upper Egypt and the Red Sea, to the country of the sources of the White Nile. In Godjam, Kaffa, Miecha, and Sami, the Abyssinian mountains rise from 10,000 to nearly 15,000 feet, as we learn from exact measurements; (not according to those of Bruce, who gives to Chartum an elevation of 5041 feet, instead of the true height, 1524 feet!) Rüppell, who ranks amongst the most accurate observers of the present day, found Abba Jarat (in 13° 10′ north lat.) only 70 feet below the elevation of Mont Blanc,^[FB] The same observer states that a plain, elevated 13,940 feet above the Red Sea, was barely covered with a thin layer of freshly fallen snow.^[FC] The celebrated inscription of Adulis, which, according to Niebuhr, is of somewhat later date than the age of Juba and Augustus, speaks of “Abyssinian snow that reaches to the knee,” and affords, I believe, the most ancient record in antiquity of snow within the tropics,^[FD] as the Paropanisus is 12° lat. north of that limit.

Zimmermann’s map of the district of the Upper Nile shows the dividing line where the basin of the great river terminates in the south-east, and which separates it from the domain of the rivers belonging to the Indian Ocean, viz.; from the Doara which empties itself north of Magadoxo; from the Teb on the amber coast of Ogda; from the Goschop whose abundant waters are derived from the confluence of the Gibu and the Zebi, and which must be distinguished from the Godjeb, rendered celebrated since 1839 by Antoine d’Abbadie, Beke, and the Missionary Krapf. In a letter to Carl Ritter I hailed with the most lively joy the appearance of the 119combined results of the recent travels of Beke, Krapf, Isenberg, Russegger, Rüppel, Abbadie, and Werne, as ably and comprehensively brought together in 1843 by Zimmermann. “If a prolonged span of life,” I wrote to him, “bring with it many inconveniences to the individual himself, and some to those about him, it yields a compensation in the mental enjoyment, afforded by comparing the earlier state of our knowledge with its more recent condition, and of seeing the growth and development of many branches of science that had long continued torpid, or whose actual fruits hypercriticism may even have attempted to set aside. This genial enjoyment has from time to time fallen to our lot in our geographical studies, and more especially in reference to those portions of which we could hitherto only speak with a certain timid hesitation. The internal configuration and articulation of a continent depends in its leading characters on several plastic relations which are usually among the latest to be elucidated. A new and excellent work of our friend, Carl Zimmermann, on the district of the Upper Nile and of the eastern portions of Central Africa, has made me more vividly sensible of these considerations. This new map indicates, in the clearest manner, by means of a special mode of shading, all that still remains unknown, and all that by the courage and perseverance of travellers of all nations (among which our own countrymen happily play an important part), has already been disclosed to us. We may regard it as alike important and useful that the actual condition of our knowledge, should, at different periods, be graphically represented by men well acquainted with the existing and often widely scattered materials of knowledge, and who not merely delineate and compile, but who know how to compare, select, and, where it is practicable, test the routes of travellers by astronomical determinations of place. Those who have contributed as much to the general stock of knowledge as you have done, have indeed an especial right to expect much, since their combinations have greatly increased the number of connecting points; yet I scarcely think that when, in the year 1822, you executed your great work on Africa, you could have anticipated so many additions as we have received.” It must be admitted that, in some cases, we have only acquired a knowledge of rivers, their direction, their branches, and 120their numerous synonymes according to various languages and dialects; but the courses of rivers indicate the configuration of the surface of the earth, and exert a threefold influence; they promote vegetation, facilitate general intercourse, and are pregnant with the future destiny of man.

The northern course of the White Nile, and the south-eastern course of the great Goschop, show that both rivers are separated by an elevation of the surface of the earth; although we are as yet but imperfectly acquainted with the manner in which such an elevation is connected with the highlands of Habesch, or how it may be prolonged in a southerly direction beyond the equator. Probably, and this is also the opinion of my friend Carl Ritter, the Lupata Mountains, which, according to the excellent Wilhelm Peters, extend to 26° south lat., are connected by means of the Mountains of the Moon with this northern swelling of the earth’s surface (the Abyssinian Highlands). Lupata, according to the last-named African traveller, signifies, in the language of Tette, closed, when used as an adjective. This mountain-range which is only intersected by some few rivers would thus be the closed or barred. “The Lupata chain of the Portuguese writers,” says Peters, “is situated about 90 leagues from the mouth of the Zambeze, and has an elevation of little more than 2000 feet. This mural chain has a direction due north and south, although it frequently deflects to the east or the west. It is sometimes interrupted by plains. Along the coast of Zanzibar the traders in the interior appear to be acquainted with this long, but not very high range, which extends between 6° and 26° south lat. to the Factory of Lourenzo-Marques on the Rio de Espirito Santo (in the Delagoa Bay of the English). The further the Lupata chain extends to the south, the nearer it approaches the coast, until at Lourenzo-Marques it is only 15 leagues distant from it.”

24. p. 10.—“The consequence of the great rotatory movement of the waters.”

The waters of the northern part of the Atlantic between Europe, Northern Africa, and the New Continent, are agitated by a continually recurring gyratory movement. Under the tropics the general current to which the term rotation-stream might appropriately be given in consideration of the cause 121from which it arises, moves, as is well known, like the trade wind from east to west. It accelerates the navigation of vessels sailing from the Canary Isles to South America; while it is nearly impossible to pursue a straight course against the current from Carthagena de Indias to Cumana. This bend to the west, attributed to the trade winds, is accelerated in the Caribbean Sea by a much stronger movement, which originates in a very remote cause, discovered as early as 1560 by Sir Humphrey Gilbert,^[FE] and confirmed in 1832 by Rennell. The Mozambique current, flowing from north to south between Madagascar and the eastern coast of Africa, sets on the Lagullas Bank, and bends to the north of it round the southern point of Africa. After advancing with much violence along the western coast of Africa beyond the equator to the island of St. Thomas, it gives a north-westerly direction to a portion of the waters of the South Atlantic, causing them to strike Cape St. Augustin, and follow the shores of Guiana beyond the mouth of the Orinoco, the Boca del Drago, and the coast of Paria.^[FF] The New Continent from the Isthmus of Panama to the northern part of Mexico forms a dam or barrier against the movements of the sea. Owing to this obstruction the current is necessarily deflected in a northerly direction at Veragua, and made to follow the sinuosities of the coast-line from Costa Rica, Mosquitos, Campeche, and Tabasco. The waters which enter the Mexican Gulf between Cape Catoche of Yucatan, and Cape San Antonio de Cuba, force their way back into the open ocean north of the Straits of Bahama, after they have been agitated by a great rotatory movement between Vera Cruz, Tamiagna, the mouth of the Rio Bravo del Norte, and the Mississippi. Here they form a warm, rapid current, known to mariners as the Gulf Stream, which deflects in a diagonal direction further and further from the shores of North America. Ships bound for this coast from Europe, and uncertain of their geographical longitude, are enabled by this oblique direction of the current to regulate their course as soon as they reach the Gulf Stream by observations of latitude only. The bearings of this current were first accurately determined by Franklin, Williams, and Pownall.

122From the parallel of 41° north lat. this stream of warm water follows an easterly direction, gradually diminishing in rapidity as it increases in breadth. It almost touches the southern edge of the Great Newfoundland Bank, where I found the greatest amount of difference between the temperature of the waters of the Gulf Stream and those exposed to the cooling action of the banks. Before the warm current reaches the Western Azores it separates into two branches, one of which turns at certain seasons of the year towards Ireland and Norway, while the other flows in the direction of the Canary Isles and the western coast of Northern Africa.

The course of this Atlantic current, which I have described more fully in the first volume of my travels in the regions of the tropics, affords an explanation of the manner in which, notwithstanding the action of the trade winds, stems of the South American and West Indian dicotyledons have been found on the coasts of the Canary Islands. I made many observations on the temperature of the Gulf Stream in the vicinity of the Newfoundland Bank. This current bears the warmer water of lower latitudes with great rapidity into more northern regions. The temperature of the stream is therefore from about 4°½ to 7° Fahr. higher than that of the contiguous and unmoved water which constitutes the shore as it were of the warm oceanic current.

The flying-fish of the equinoctial zone (Exocetus volitans), is borne by its predilection for the warmth of the water of the Gulf Stream far to the north of the temperate zone. Floating sea-weed (Fucus natans), chiefly taken up by the stream in the Mexican Gulf, makes it easy for the navigator to recognize when he has entered the Gulf Stream, whilst the position of the branches of the sea-weed indicate the direction of the current. The mainmast of the English ship of war, the Tilbury, which was destroyed by fire in the seven years’ war on the coasts of Saint Domingo, was carried by the Gulf Stream to the northern coasts of Scotland: and casks filled with palm-oil, the remains of the cargo of an English ship wrecked on a rock off Cape Lopez in Africa, were in like manner carried to Scotland, after having twice traversed the Atlantic Ocean, once from east to west between 2° and 12° north lat., following the course of the equinoctial current, and once from west to east between 45° and 55° north lat. by help of the Gulf Stream. Rennell, in 123the work already referred to, p. 347, relates the voyage of a bottle inclosing a written paper which had been thrown from the English ship Newcastle in 38° 52′ north lat., and 63° 58′ west long., on the 20th of January, 1819, and which was first seen on the 2nd of June, 1820, at the Rosses in the north-west of Ireland, near the Island of Arran. Shortly before my arrival at Teneriffe a stem of South American cedar-wood (Cedrela odorata), thickly covered with lichens, was cast ashore near the harbour of Santa Cruz.

The effects of the Gulf Stream in stranding on the Azorean Islands of Fayal, Flores, and Corvo, bamboos, artificially cut pieces of wood, trunks of an unknown species of pine from Mexico or the West Indies, and corpses of men of a peculiar race, having very broad faces, have mainly contributed to the discovery of America, as they confirmed Columbus in his belief of the existence of Asiatic countries and islands situated in the west. The great discoverer even heard from a settler on the Cap de la Verga in the Azores “that persons in sailing westward had met with covered barks, which were managed by men of foreign appearance, and appeared to be constructed in such a manner that they could not sink, almadias con casa movediza que nunca se hunden.” There are well authenticated proofs, however much the facts may have been called in question, that natives of America (probably Esquimaux from Greenland or Labrador), were carried by currents or streams from the north-west to our own continent. James Wallace^[FG] relates that in the year 1682 a Greenlander in his canoe was seen on the southern extremity of the Island of Eda by many persons, who could not, however, succeed in reaching him. In 1684 a Greenland fisherman appeared near the Island of Westram. In the church at Burra there was suspended an Esquimaux boat, which had been driven on shore by currents and storms. The inhabitants of the Orkneys call the Greenlanders who have appeared amongst them Finnmen.

In Cardinal Bembo’s History of Venice I find it stated, that in the year 1508 a small boat, manned by seven persons of a foreign aspect, was captured near the English coast by a French ship. The description given of them applies perfectly to the form of the Esquimaux (homines erant septem mediocri statura, colore subobscuro, lato et patente vultu, cicatriceque una 124violacea signato). No one understood their language. Their clothing was made of fish skins sewn together. On their heads they wore coronam e culmo pictam, septem quasi auriculis intextam. They ate raw flesh, and drank blood as we would wine. Six of these men perished during the voyage, and the seventh, a youth, was presented to the King of France, who was then at Orleans.^[FH]

The appearance of men called Indians on the coasts of Germany under the Othos and Frederic Barbarossa in the tenth and twelfth centuries, and as Cornelius Nepos (in his Fragments),^[FI] Pomponius Mela,^[FJ] and Pliny^[FK] relate, when Quintus Metellus Celer was Proconsul in Gaul, may be explained by similar effects of oceanic currents and by the long continuance of north-westerly winds. A king of the Boii, or, as others say, of the Suevi, gave these stranded dark-coloured men to Metellus Celer. Gomara^[FL] regards these Indian subjects of the King of the Boii as natives of Labrador. He writes, Si ya no fuesen de Tierra del Labrador, y los tuviesen los Romanos por Indianos engañados en el color. It may be inferred that the appearance of Esquimaux on the northern shores of Europe was more frequent in earlier times, for we learn from the investigations of Bask and Finn Magnusen, that this race had spread in the eleventh and twelfth century in considerable numbers, under the name of Skrälingers, from Labrador as far south as the Good Vinland, i.e. the shore of Massachussets and Connecticut.^[FM]

As the winter cold of the most northern part of Scandinavia is ameliorated by the action of the Gulf Stream, which carries American tropical fruits (as cocoa-nuts, seeds of Mimosa scandens and Anacardium occidentale) beyond 62° north lat.; so also Iceland enjoys from time to time the genial influence of the diffusion of the warm waters of the Gulf Stream far to the northward. The sea coasts of Iceland, like those of the Faroe Isles, receive a large number of trunks of 125trees, driven thither from America; and this drift-wood, which formerly came in greater abundance, was used for the purposes of building, and cut into boards and laths. The fruits of tropical plants collected on the Icelandic shores, especially between Raufarhaven and Vapnafiord, show that the movement of the water is from a southerly direction.^[FN]

25. p. 10.—“Lecideæ and other Lichens.”

In northern regions, the absence of plants is compensated for by the covering of Bœomyces roseus, Cenomyce rangiferinus, Lecidea muscorum, Lecidea icmadophila, and other cryptogamia which are spread over the earth, and which may be said to prepare the way for the growth of grasses and other herbaceous plants. In the tropical world, where mosses and lichens are only observed to abound in shady places, some few oily plants supply the place of the lowly lichen.

26. p. 11.—“The Care of Animals yielding milk.—Ruins of the Aztek fortress.”

The two oxen already named, Bos americanus and Bos moschatus, are peculiar to the northern part of the American continent. But the natives—

drank the fresh blood, and not the milk, of these animals. Some few exceptions have indeed been met with, but only among tribes who at the same time cultivated maize. I have already observed that Gomara speaks of a people in the north-west of Mexico who possessed herds of tame bisons, and derived their clothing, food, and drink from these animals. This drink was probably the blood,^[FO] for, as I have frequently remarked, a dislike of milk, or at least the absence of its use, appears before the arrival of Europeans to have been common to all the natives of the New Continent, as well as to the inhabitants of China and Cochin China, notwithstanding their great vicinity to true pastoral tribes. The herds of tame lamas which were found in the highlands of Quito, Peru, and Chili, belonged to a settled and agricultural 126population. Pedro de Cieça de Leon^[FP] seems to imply, although assuredly as a very rare exception to the general mode of life, that lamas were employed on the Peruvian mountain plain of Callao for drawing the plough.^[FQ] Ploughing was, however, generally conducted in Peru by men only.^[FR] Barton has made it appear probable that the American buffalo had from an early period been reared among some West Canada tribes on account of its flesh and hide.^[FS] In Peru and Quito the lama is nowhere found in its original wild condition. According to the statements made to me by the natives, the lamas on the western declivity of the Chimborazo became wild at the time when Lican, the ancient residence of the rulers of Quito, was laid in ashes. In Central Peru, in the Ceja de la Montaña, cattle have in like manner become completely wild; a small but daring race that often attacks the Indians. The natives call them “Vacas del Monte” or “Vacas Cimarronas.”^[FT] Cuvier’s assertion that the lama had descended from the guanaco, still in a wild state, which had unfortunately been extensively propagated by the admirable observer, Meyen,^[FU] has now been completely refuted by Tschudi.

The Lama, the Paco or Alpaca, and the Guanaco are three originally distinct species of animals.^[FV] The Guanaco (Huanacu in the Quichua language) is the largest of the three, and the Alpaca, measured from the ground to the crown of the head, the smallest. The Lama is next to the Guanaco in height. Herds of Lamas, when as numerous as I have seen them on the elevated plateaux between Quito and Riobamba, are a great ornament to the landscape. The Moromoro of Chili appears to be a mere variety of the lama. The different species of camel-like sheep found still wild at elevations of from 13,000 to upwards of 16,000 feet above the level of the sea, are the Vicuña, the Guanaco, and the Alpaca; of these the two latter species are also found tame, although this is but rarely the 127case with the Guanaco. The alpaca does not bear a warm climate as well as the lama. Since the introduction of the more useful horse, mule, and ass (the latter of which exhibits great animation and beauty in tropical regions), the lama and alpaca have been less generally reared and employed as beasts of burden in the mining districts. But their wool, which varies so much in fineness, is still an important branch of industry among the inhabitants of the mountains. In Chili the wild and the tame guanaco are distinguished by special names, the former being called “Luan” and the latter “Chilihueque.” The wide dissemination of the wild Guanacos from the Peruvian Cordilleras to Tierra del Fuego, sometimes in herds of 500 heads of cattle, has been facilitated by the circumstance that these animals can swim with great facility from island to island, and are not therefore impeded in their passage across the Patagonian channels or fiords.^[FW]

South of the river Gyla, which together with the Rio Colorado pours itself into the Californian Gulf (Mar de Cortes), lie in the midst of the dreary steppe the mysterious ruins of the Aztek Palace, called by the Spaniards “las Casas Grandes.” When, about the year 1160, the Azteks first appeared in Anahuac, having migrated from the unknown land of Aztlan, they remained for a time on the borders of the Gyla river. The Franciscan monks, Garces and Font, who saw the “Casas Grandes” in 1778, are the last travellers who have visited these remains. According to their statement, the ruins extended over an area exceeding sixteen square miles. The whole plain was covered with the broken fragments of ingeniously painted earthenware vessels. The principal palace, if the word can be applied to a house formed of unburnt clay, is 447 feet in length and 277 feet in breadth.^[FX]

The Tayé of California, a delineation of which is given by the Padre Venegas, appears to differ but inconsiderably from the Ovis musimon of the Old Continent. The same animal has also been seen in the Stony Mountains near the source of the River of Peace, and differs entirely from 128the small white and black spotted goat-like animal found on the Missouri and Arkansas. The synonyme of Antilope furcifer, A. tememazama. (Smith,) and Ovis montana is still very uncertain.

27. p. 11.—“The culture of farinaceous grasses.”

The original habitat of the farinaceous grasses, like that of the domestic animals which have followed man since his earliest migrations, is shrouded in obscurity. Jacob Grimm has ingeniously derived the German name for corn, Getraide, from the old German “gitragidi,” “getregede.” “It is as it were the tame fruit (fruges, frumentum) that has fallen into the hands of man, as we speak of tame animals in opposition to those that are wild.”^[FY]

“It is a most striking fact that on one half of our planet there should be nations who are wholly unacquainted with the use of milk and of the meal yielded by narrow-eared grasses, (Hordeaceæ and Avenacecæ) whilst in the other hemisphere nations may be found in almost every region who cultivate cereals and rear milch cattle. The culture of different cereals is common to both hemispheres; but while in the New Continent we meet with only one species, maize, which is cultivated from 52° north to 46° south lat., we find that in the Old World the fruits of Ceres, (wheat, barley, spelt, and oats,) have been everywhere cultivated from the earliest ages recorded in history. The belief that wheat grew wild in the Leontine plains as well as in other parts of Sicily was common to several ancient nations, and is mentioned as early as Diodorus Siculus.”^[FZ] Cereals were also found in the alpine meadow of Enna. Diodorus says expressly, “The inhabitants of the Atlantis were unacquainted with the fruits of Ceres, owing to their having separated from the rest of mankind before those fruits were made known to mortals.” Sprengel has collected several interesting facts from which he is led to conjecture that the greater number of our European cereals originally grew wild in Northern Persia and India. He supposes for instance that summer wheat was indigenous in the land of the Musicani, a province of Northern India;^[GA] barley, antiquissimum 129frumentum, as Pliny terms it, and which was also the only cereal known to the Guansches of the Canaries, originated, according to Moses of Chorene,^[GB] on the banks of the Araxes or Kur in Georgia, and according to Marco Polo in Balascham, in Northern India;^[GC] and Spelt originated in Hamadan.

My intelligent friend and teacher, Link, has however shown in a comprehensive and critical treatise,^[GD] that these passages are open to much doubt. In a former essay of my own,^[GE] I expressed doubts regarding the existence of wild cereals in Asia, and considered them to have become wild. Reinhold Forster, who before his voyage with Captain Cook made an expedition for purposes of natural history into the south of Russia by order of the Empress Catherine, reported that the two-lined summer barley (Hordeum distichon) grew wild near the confluence of the Samara and the Volga. At the end of September in the year 1829, Ehrenberg and myself also herborised on the Samara, during our journey from Orenburg and Uralsk to Saratow and the Caspian Sea. The quantity of wheat and rye plants growing wild on uncultivated ground in this district was certainly very remarkable; but the plants did not appear to us to differ from the ordinary kinds. Ehrenberg received from M. Carelin a species of rye, Secale fragile, that had been gathered on the Kirghis Steppe, and which Marshal Bieberstein for some time conjectured to be the mother plant of our cultivated rye, Secale cereale. Michaux’s herbarium does not show (according to Achill Richard’s testimony), that Spelt (Triticum spelta) grows wild at Hamadan in Persia, as Olivier and Michaux have been supposed to maintain. More confidence is due to the recent accounts obtained through the unwearied zeal of the intelligent traveller, Professor Carl Koch. He found a large quantity of rye (Secale cereale var. β, pectinata) in the Pontic Mountains, at heights of more than 5000 or 6000 feet above the level of the sea, on spots where this species of grain had not within the memory of the inhabitants been previously cultivated. “Its appearance here is the more important,” he remarks, “because with us this grain never propagates 130itself spontaneously.” Koch collected in the Schirwan part of the Caucasus a kind of grain which he calls Hordeum spontaneum, and regards as the originally wild Hordeum zeocriton. (Linn.)^[GF]

A negro slave of the great Cortes was the first who cultivated wheat in New Spain, from three seeds which he found amongst some rice brought from Spain for the use of the troops. In the Franciscan convent at Quito I saw, preserved as a relic, the earthen vessel which had contained the first wheat sowed in Quito by the Franciscan monk, Fray Jodoco Rixi de Gante, a native of Ghent in Flanders. The first crop was raised in front of the convent, on the “Plazuela de S. Francisco,” after the wood which then extended from the foot of the Volcano of Pichincha had been cleared. The monks, whom I frequently visited during my stay at Quito, begged me to explain the inscription on the cup, which according to their conjecture contained some hidden allusion to wheat. On examining the vessel, I read in old German the words “Let him who drinks from me, ne’er forget his God.” This old German drinking cup excited in me feelings of veneration! Would that everywhere in the New Continent the names of those were preserved who, instead of devastating the soil by bloody conquests, confided to it the first fruits of Ceres! There are “fewer examples of a general affinity of names in terms relating to the different species of corn and objects of agriculture than to the rearing of cattle. Herdsmen when they migrated to other regions had still much in common, while the subsequent cultivators of the soil had to invent special words. But the fact that in comparison with the Sanscrit, Romans and Greeks seem to stand on the same footing with Germans and Slavonians, speaks in favour of the very early contemporaneous emigration of the two latter. Yet the Indian java (frumentum hordeum), when compared with the Lithuanian jawai, and the Finnish jywa, affords a striking exception.”^[GG]

28. p. 11.—“Preferring to keep within a cooler climate.”

Throughout the whole of Mexico and Peru we find the trace of human civilisation confined to the elevated table-lands. 131We saw the ruins of palaces and baths on the sides of the Andes, at an elevation of from 10,230 to 11,510 feet. None but northern tribes migrating from the north towards the equator could have remained from preference in such a climate.

29. p. 12.—“The history of the peopling of Japan.”

I believe I have succeeded in showing, in my work on the monuments of the American primitive races,^[GH] by an examination of the Mexican and Thibetian-Japanese calendars, by a correct determination of the position of the Scansile Pyramids, and by the ancient myths which record four revolutions of the world and the dispersion of mankind after a great deluge, that the western nations of the New Continent maintained relations of intercourse with those of Eastern Asia, long before the arrival of the Spaniards. These observations have derived additional weight, since the appearance of my work, from the facts recently published in England, France, and the United States, regarding the remarkable pieces of sculpture carved in the Indian style, which have been discovered in the ruins of Guatimala and Yucatan.^[GI] The ancient architectural remains found in the peninsula of Yucatan testify more than those of Palenque, to an astonishing degree of civilization. They are situated between Valladolid, Merida, and Campeche, chiefly in the western portion of the country. But the monuments on the island of Cozumel, (properly Cuzamil,) east of Yucatan, were the first which were seen by the Spaniards in the expedition of Juan de Grijalva in 1518, and in that of Cortes in 1519. Their discovery tended to diffuse throughout Europe an exalted idea of the advanced condition of ancient 132Mexican civilization. The most important ruins of the peninsula of Yucatan (unfortunately not yet thoroughly measured and drawn by architects) are those of the “Casa del Gobernador” of Uxmal, the Teocallis and vaulted constructions at Kabah, the ruins of Labnan with its domed pillars, those of Zayi which exhibit columns of an order of architecture nearly approaching the Doric, and those of Chiche with large ornamented pilasters. An old manuscript written in the Maya language by a Christian Indian, which is still in the hands of the “Gefe politico” of Peto, Don Juan Rio Perez, gives the different epochs (Katunes of 52 years) at which the Toltecs settled in different parts of the peninsula. Perez would infer from these data that the architectural remains of Chiche go back as far as the fourth century of our era, whilst those of Uxmal belong to the middle of the tenth century; but the accuracy of these historical deductions is open to great doubt.^[GJ]

I regard the existence of a former intercourse between the people of Western America and these of Eastern Asia as more than probable, although it is impossible at the present time to say by what route and with which of the tribes of Asia this intercourse was established. A small number of individuals of the cultivated hierarchical castes may perhaps have sufficed to effect great changes in the social condition of Western America. The fabulous accounts formerly current regarding Chinese expeditions to the New Continent refer merely to expeditions to Fusang or Japan. It is, however, possible that Japanese and Sian-Pi may have been driven by storms from the Corea to the American coasts. We know as matters of history that Bonzes and other adventurers navigated the Eastern Chinese seas in search of a remedial agent capable of making man immortal. Thus under Tschin-chi-huang-ti three hundred young couples were dispatched to Japan in the year 209 before our era, who, instead of returning to China, settled on the Island of Nipon.^[GK] May not accident have led to similar expeditions to 133the Fox Islands, to Alaschka, or New California? As the western coasts of the American continent incline from north-west to south-east, and the eastern coasts of Asia from north-east to south-west, the distance between the two continents in the milder zone, which is most conducive to mental development (45° lat.), would appear too considerable to admit of an accidental settlement having been made in this latitude. We must therefore assume that the first landing took place in the ungenial climate of 55° and 65°, and that cultivation, like the general advance of population in America, progressed by gradual stations from north to south.^[GL] It was even believed in the beginning of the sixteenth century that the fragments of ships from Catayo, i.e. from Japan or China, had been found on the coasts of the Northern Dorado, called also Quivira and Cibora.^[GM]

We know as yet too little of the languages of America entirely to renounce the hope that, amid their many varieties, some idiom may be discovered, that has been spoken with certain modifications in the interior of South America and Central Asia, or that might at least indicate an ancient affinity. Such a discovery would undoubtedly be one of the most brilliant to which the history of the human race can hope to attain! But analogies of language are only deserving of confidence where mere resemblances of sound in the roots are not alone the object of research, but attention is also directed to the organic structure, the grammatical forms, and those elements of language which manifest themselves as the product of the intellectual power of man.

30. p. 12—“Many other forms of animal life.”

The Steppes of Caracas abound in flocks of the so-called Cervus mexicanus. This stag when young is spotted, and resembles the roe. We have frequently met with perfectly white varieties, which is a very striking fact when the high temperature of this zone is taken into consideration. The Cervus mexicanus is not found on the declivities of the Andes in the equatorial region, at an elevation exceeding from 4476 to 5115 feet, but another white deer, which I could scarcely distinguish by any one specific characteristic from the 134European species, ascends to an elevation of nearly 13,000 feet. The Cavia capybara is known in the province of Caracas by the name of Chiguire. This unfortunate animal is pursued in the water by the crocodile, and on land by the tiger or jaguar. It runs so badly that we were often able to catch it with our hands. The extremities are smoked and eaten as hams, but have a most unpleasant taste, owing to the flavour and smell of musk by which they are impregnated; and on the Orinoco we gladly ate monkey-hams in preference. These beautifully striped animals—the Viverra mapurito, Viverra zorilla, and Viverra vittata—exhale a fetid odour.

31. p. 12—“The Guaranes and the fan-palm Mauritia.”

The small coast tribe of the Guaranes (called in British Guiana, the Warraws, or Guaranos, and by the Caribs U-ara-u) inhabit not only the swampy delta and the river net-work of the Orinoco (more particularly the banks of the Manamo grande and the Caño Macareo), but also extend, with very slight differences in their mode of living, along the sea-shore, between the mouths of the Essequibo and the Boca de Navios of the Orinoco.^[GN] According to the testimony of Schomburgk, the admirable observer referred to in the note, there are still about 1700 Warraus or Guaranos living in the vicinity of Cumaca, and along the banks of the Barime river, which empties itself into the gulf of the Boca de Navios. The social habits of the tribes settled in the delta of the Orinoco were known to the great historian Cardinal Bembo, the cotemporary of Christopher Columbus, Amerigo Vespucci, and Alonzo de Hojeda. He says^[GO] quibusdam in locis propter paludes incolæ domus in arboribus œdificant. It is hardly probable that instead of the Guaranos at the mouth of the Orinoco, Bembo should here allude to the natives of the country near the mouth of the gulf of Maracaibo, where Alonzo de Hojeda, in August, 1499, (when accompanied by Vespucci and Juan de la Cosa) found a population having their dwellings fondata sopra l’acqua come Venezia (“built like Venice on the water”).^[GP] Vespucci, in the account of his 135travels, in which we meet with the first traces of the etymology of the name of the province of Venezuela (Little Venice) as used for the province of Caracas, speaks only of houses built on a foundation of piles, and makes no mention of habitations in trees.

Sir Walter Raleigh bears a subsequent and incontrovertible evidence to the same fact, for he says expressly in his description of Guiana, that on his second voyage in 1595, when in the mouth of the Orinoco, “he saw the fire of the Tivitites and Qua-rawetes” (so he calls the Guaranes), “high up in the trees.”^[GQ] There is a drawing of the fire in the Latin edition of this work,^[GR] and Raleigh was the first who brought to England the fruit of the Mauritia palm, which he very justly compared, on account of its scales, to fir-cones. Father José Gumilla, who twice visited the Guaranes as a missionary, says, indeed, that this tribe have their dwelling in the Palmares (palm groves) of the morasses; but while he speaks more definitely of pendent habitations supported by high pillars, makes no mention of platforms attached to still growing trees.^[GS] Hillhouse and Sir Robert Schomburgk^[GT] are of opinion that Bembo, through the relations of others, and Raleigh, by his own observation, were deceived into this belief in consequence of the high tops of the palm trees being lighted up in such a manner by the fires below them, that those sailing by thought the habitations of the Guaranes were attached to the trees themselves. “We do not deny,” says Schomburgk, “that in order to escape the attacks of the mosquitos, the Indian sometimes suspends his hammock from the tops of trees, but on such occasions no fires are made under the hammock.”^[GU]

According to Martius, the beautiful Palm, Moriche, Mauritia 136flexuosa, Quieteva, or Ita Palm,^[GV] belongs, together with Calamus, to the family of the Lepidocaryæ or Corypheæ. Linnæus has described it very imperfectly, as he erroneously considered it to be devoid of leaves. The trunk is 26 feet high, but it probably does not attain this height in less than 120 or even 150 years. The Mauritia extends high up the declivity of the Duida, north of the Esmeralda mission, where I found it in great beauty. It forms, in moist places, fine groups of a fresh and shining verdure, reminding us of that of our alders. The trees preserve the moisture of the ground by their shade, and hence the Indians believe that the Mauritia draws water around its roots by some mysterious attraction. In conformity with an analogous theory they advise, that serpents should not be killed, because the destruction of these animals is followed by the drying up of the lagoons. Thus do the rude children of nature confound cause and effect! Gumilla calls the Mauritia flexuosa of the Guaranes the tree of life (“arbol de la vida”). It is found on the mountains of Ronaima, east of the sources of the Orinoco, as high as 4263 feet. On the unfrequented banks of the Rio Atabapo, in the interior of Guiana, we discovered a new species of Mauritia having a prickly stem; our Mauritia aculeata.^[GW]

32. p. 13.—“An American Stylite.”

The founder of the sect of Stylites, the fanatical Pillar-saint, Simeon Sisanites of Syria, the son of a Syrian herdsman, is said to have passed thirty-seven years in holy contemplation, elevated on five columns, each higher than the preceding. He died in the year 461. The last of the pillars which he occupied was 40 ells in height. For seven hundred years there continued to be followers of this mode of life, who were called Sancti Columnares, or Pillar-saints. Even in Germany, in the see of Treves, attempts were made to found similar aërial cloisters; but the dangerous practice met with the constant opposition of the bishops.^[GX]

33. 137p. 14.—“Towns on the banks of the Steppe-rivers.”

Families who live by raising cattle and do not take part in agricultural pursuits have congregated together in the middle of the Steppe, in small towns, which, in the cultivated parts of Europe, would scarcely be regarded as villages. Among these are Calabozo, which, according to my astronomical observations, is situated in 8° 56′ 14″ north lat., and 67° 43′ west long.; Villa del Pao (8° 38′ 1″ north lat., and 66° 57′ west long.); Saint Sebastian, and others.

34. p. 14.—“Funnel-shaped clouds.”

The singular phenomenon of these sand-spouts, of which we see something analogous on the cross roads of Europe, is especially characteristic of the Peruvian sandy desert between Amotape and Coquimbo. Such dense clouds of sand may endanger the safety of the traveller who does not cautiously avoid them. It is remarkable that these partial and opposing currents of air should arise only when there is a general calm. The aërial ocean resembles the sea in this respect; for here, too, we find that the small currents (filets de courant) in which the water may frequently be heard to flow with a splashing sound, occur only in a dead calm (calme plat).

35. p. 14.—“Increases the stifling oppression.”

I have observed in the Llanos de Apure, at the cattle farm of Guadalupe, that the thermometer rose from 92°.7 to 97°.2 Fahr. whenever the hot wind began to blow from the desert, which was covered either with sand or short withered grass. In the middle of the sand-cloud the thermometer stood for several minutes together at 111° Fahr. The dry sand in the village of San Fernando de Apure had a temperature of 126° Fahr.

36. p. 15.—“The phantom of a moving undulating surface.”

The well known phenomenon of the mirage is called in Sanscrit “the thirst of the gazelle.”^[GY] All objects appear to float in the air, while their forms are reflected in the lower stratum of the atmosphere. At such times the whole desert 138resembles a vast lake, whose surface undulates like waves. Palm trees, cattle, and camels sometimes appear inverted in the horizon. In the French expedition to Egypt, this optical illusion often nearly drove the faint and parched soldiers to distraction. This phenomenon has been observed in all quarters of the world. The ancients were also acquainted with the remarkable refraction of the rays of light in the Lybian Desert. We find mention made in Diodorus Siculus of strange illusive appearances, an African Fata Morgana, together with still more extravagant explanations of the conglomeration of the particles of air.^[GZ]

37. p. 15.—“The Melocactus.”

The Cactus melocactus is frequently from 10 to 12 inches in diameter, and has generally 14 ribs. The natural group of the Cactaceæ, the whole family of the Nopaleæ of Jussieu, belongs exclusively to the New Continent. The Cactus assumes a variety of shapes, being ribbed and melon-like (Melocacti); articulated (Opuntiæ); upright-like columns (Cerei); of a serpentine or creeping form (Rhipsalides); or provided with leaves (Pereskiæ). Many extend high up the slopes of the mountains. Near the foot of the Chimborazo, in the sandy table-land around Riobamba, I found a new species of Pitahaya (Cactus sepium), even at an elevation of 10,660 feet.^[HA]

38. p. 16.—“The scene suddenly changes in the Steppe.”

I have endeavoured to describe the approach of the rainy season, and the signs by which it is announced. The deep blue of the heavens in the tropics is occasioned by the imperfect solution of vapour. The cyanometer indicates a lighter shade of blue as soon as the vapours begin to fall. The dark spot in the constellation of the Southern Cross becomes indistinct in proportion as the transparency of the atmosphere decreases, and this change announces the approach of rain. The bright radiance of the Magellanic clouds (Nubecula major and Nubecula minor) then gradually fades away. The fixed stars which had before been shining with a calm, steady, planetlike 139light, are now seen to scintillate in the zenith.^[HB] All these phenomena are the result of the increased quantity of aqueous vapour floating in the atmosphere.

39. p. 16.—“The humid clay soil is seen to rise slowly in a broad flake.”

Drought produces the same phenomena in animals and plants as the abstraction of heat. During the dry season many tropical plants lose their leaves. The crocodile and other amphibious animals conceal themselves in the mud and lie apparently dead, like animals in cold regions who are thrown into a state of hybernation.^[HC]

40. p. 17.—“A vast inland sea.”

Nowhere are these inundations on a larger scale than in the net-work of streams formed by the Apure, the Arachuna, the Payara, the Arauca, and the Cabuliare. Large vessels sail across the country over the Steppe for 40 or 50 miles.

41. p. 17.—“To the mountainous plain of Antisana.”

The great mountain plateau which surrounds the volcano of Antisana is 13,473 feet above the level of the sea. The pressure of the atmosphere is so inconsiderable at this height, that blood will flow from the nostrils and mouth of the wild bull when hunted with dogs.

42. p. 17.—“The marshy waters of Bera and Rastro.”

I have elsewhere more circumstantially described the capture of the gymnotus.^[HD] Mons. Gay Lussac and myself were perfectly successful in the experiments we conducted without a chain on a living gymnotus, which was still very vigorous when it reached Paris. The discharge of electricity is entirely dependent on the will of the animal. We did not observe any electric sparks, but other physicists have done so on numerous occasions.

43. p. 18.—“Awakened by the contact of moist and dissimilar particles.”

In all organic bodies dissimilar substances come into 140contact with each other, and solids are associated with fluids. Wherever there is organization and life, there must be electric tension, or, in other words, a voltaic pile must be brought into play, as the experiments of Nobili and Matteucci, and more especially the late most admirable labours of Emil Dubois, teach us. The last-named physicist has succeeded in “manifesting the presence of the electric muscular current in living and wholly uninjured animal bodies:” he shows that “the human body, through the medium of a copper wire, can at will cause the magnetic needle at a distance to deflect first in one direction and then in another.”^[HE] I have myself witnessed these movements produced at will, and have thus unexpectedly seen much light thrown on phenomena, to which I had laboriously and ardently devoted so many years of my earlier life.

44. p. 19.—“The myth of Osiris and Typhon.”

Respecting the struggle of two human races, the Arabian shepherd tribes of Lower Egypt and the cultivated agricultural races of Upper Egypt; on the subject of the fair-haired Prince Baby or Typhon, who founded Pelusium; and on the dark-complexioned Dionysos or Osiris; I would refer to Zoëga’s older and almost universally discarded views as set forth at p. 577 of his masterly work “De origine et usu obeliscorum.”

45. p. 19—“The boundaries of European semi-civilization.”

In the Capitania General de Caracas, as well as in all the eastern part of America, the civilization formerly introduced by Europeans is limited to the narrow strip of land which skirts the shore. In Mexico, New Granada, and Quito on the other hand, European civilization has penetrated far into the interior of the country and advanced up to the ridges of the Cordilleras. There existed already in the fifteenth century an earlier stage of civilization among the inhabitants of the last-named region. Wherever the Spaniards perceived this culture they pursued its track, regardless whether the seat of it was at a distance from the sea, or in its vicinity. The ancient cities were enlarged and their former significant 141Indian names mutilated, or exchanged for those of Christian saints.

46. p. 19—“Huge masses of leaden-coloured granite.”

In the Orinoco, and more especially at the cataracts of Maypures and Atures (not in the Black River or Rio Negro), all blocks of granite, even pieces of white quartz, wherever they come in contact with the water, acquire a grayish black coating, which does not penetrate beyond 0·01 of a line into the interior of the rock. The traveller might almost suppose that he was looking at basalt, or fossils coloured with graphite. Indeed, the crust does actually appear to contain manganese and carbon. I say “appears” to do so, because the phenomenon has not yet been thoroughly investigated. Something perfectly analogous to this was observed by Rozier in the syenitic rocks of the Nile (near Syene and Philæ); by the unfortunate Captain Tuckey on the rocky banks of the Zaire; and by Sir Robert Schomburgk at Berbice.^[HF] On the Orinoco these leaden-coloured rocks are supposed when wet to give forth noxious exhalations, and their vicinity is believed to be conducive to the generation of fevers.^[HG] It is also remarkable that the South American rivers generally, which have black waters (aguas negras), or waters of a coffee brown or wine yellow tint, do not darken the granite rocks; that is to say, they do not act upon the stone in such a manner as to form from its constituent parts a black or leaden-coloured crust.

47. p. 20—“The rain-foreboding howl of the bearded ape.”

Some hours before the commencement of rain, the melancholy cries of various apes, as Simia seniculus, Simia beelzebub, &c., fall on the ear like a storm raging in the distance. The intensity of the noise produced by such small animals can only be explained by the circumstance that one tree often contains a herd of seventy or eighty apes. I have elsewhere spoken of the laryngeal sac, and the ossification of the larynx of these animals.^[HH]

48. 142p. 20—“Its uncouth body often covered with birds.”

The crocodiles lie so motionless, that I have often seen flamingoes (Phœnicopterus) resting on their heads, while the other parts of the body were covered, like the trunk of a tree, with aquatic birds.

49. p. 20—“Down its dilating throat.”

The saliva with which the boa covers its prey tends to promote rapid decomposition. The muscular flesh is rendered gelatinously soft under its action, so that the animal is able to force entire limbs of its slain victim through its swelling throat. The Creoles call the giant boa Tragavenado (stag-swallower), and fabulously relate that the antlers of a stag which could not be swallowed by the snake have been seen fixed in its throat. I have frequently observed the boa constrictor swimming in the Orinoco, and in the smaller forest streams, the Tuamini, the Temi, and the Atabapo. It holds its head above water like a dog. Its skin is beautifully speckled. It has been asserted, that the animal attains a length of 48 feet, but the longest skins which have as yet been carefully measured in Europe do not exceed from 21 to 23 feet. The South American boa (a Python) differs from the East Indian.^[HI]

50. p. 20—“Living on gums and earth.”

It is currently reported throughout the coasts of Cumana, New Barcelona, and Caracas (which the Franciscan monks of Guiana are in the habit of visiting on their return from the missions,) that there are men living on the banks of the Orinoco who eat earth. On the 6th of June, 1800, on our return from the Rio Negro, when we descended the Orinoco in thirty-six days, we spent the day at the mission inhabited by these people (the Otomacs). Their little village, which is called La Concepcion de Uruana, is very picturesquely built against a granite rock. It is situated in 7° 8′ 3″ north lat.; and according to my chronometrical determination, in 67° 18′ west longitude. The earth which the Otomacs eat, is an unctuous, almost tasteless clay, true potter’s earth, of a yellowish grey 143colour, in consequence of a slight admixture of oxide of iron. They select it with great care, and seek it in certain banks on the shores of the Orinoco and Meta. They distinguish the flavour of one kind of earth from that of another; all kinds of clay not being alike acceptable to their palate. They knead this earth into balls measuring from four to six inches in diameter, and bake them before a slow fire, until the outer surface assumes a reddish colour. Before they are eaten, the balls are again moistened. These Indians are mostly wild, uncivilized men, who abhor all tillage. There is a proverb current among the most distant of the tribes living on the Orinoco, when they wish to speak of anything very unclean, “so dirty that the Otomacs eat it.”

As long as the waters of the Orinoco and the Meta are low, these people live on fish and turtles. They kill the former with arrows, shooting the fish as they rise to the surface of the water with a skill and dexterity that has frequently excited my admiration. At the periodical swelling of the rivers, the fishing is stopped, for it is as difficult to fish in deep river water as in the deep sea. It is during these intervals, which last from two to three months, that the Otomacs are observed to devour an enormous quantity of earth. We found in their huts considerable stores of these clay balls piled up in pyramidal heaps. An Indian will consume from three-quarters of a pound to a pound and a quarter of this food daily, as we were assured by the intelligent monk, Fray Ramon Bueno, a native of Madrid, who had lived among these Indians for a period of twelve years. According to the testimony of the Otomacs themselves, this earth constitutes their main support in the rainy season. In addition, they however eat, when they can procure them, lizards, several species of small fish, and the roots of a fern. But they are so partial to clay, that even in the dry season, when there is an abundance of fish, they still partake of some of their earth-balls, by way of a bonne bouche after their regular meals.

These people are of a dark, copper-brown colour, have unpleasant Tartar-like features, and are stout, but not protuberant. The Franciscan who had lived amongst them as a missionary, assured us that he had observed no difference in the condition and well-being of the Otomacs during the periods in which they lived on earth. The simple facts are therefore 144as follows:—The Indians undoubtedly consume large quantities of clay without injuring their health; they regard this earth as a nutritious article of food, that is to say, they feel that it will satisfy their hunger for a long time. This property they ascribe exclusively to the clay, and not to the other articles of food which they contrive to procure from time to time in addition to it. If an Otomac be asked what are his winter provisions—the term winter in the torrid parts of South America implying the rainy season—he will point to the heaps of clay in his hut. These simple facts do not, however, by any means decide the questions: whether clay can actually be a nutritious substance; whether earths can be assimilated in the human body; whether they only serve as ballast; or merely distend the walls of the stomach, and thus appease the cravings of hunger? These are questions which I cannot venture to decide.^[HJ] It is singular, that Father Gumilla, who is generally so credulous and uncritical, should have denied the fact of earth being eaten by and for itself.^[HK] He maintains that the clay-balls are largely mixed with maize-flour, and crocodile’s fat. But the missionary Fray Ramon Bueno, and our friend and fellow-traveller, the lay-brother Fray Juan Gonzales, who perished at sea off the coast of Africa (at the time we lost a portion of our collections), both assured us, that the Otomacs never mix their clay cakes with crocodile’s fat, and we heard nothing in Uruana of the admixture of flour.

The earth which we brought with us, and which was chemically investigated by M. Vauquelin, is quite pure and unmixed. May not Gumilla, by confounding heterogeneous facts, have intended to allude to a preparation of bread from the long pod of a species of Inga? as this fruit is certainly buried in the earth, in order to hasten its decomposition. It appears to me especially remarkable, that the Otomacs should not lose their health by eating so much earth. Has this tribe been habituated for generations to this stimulus?

In all tropical countries men exhibit a wonderful and almost irresistible desire to devour earth, not the so-called alkaline or calcareous earth, for the purpose of neutralizing acidity, but unctuous, strong-smelling clay. It is often found 145necessary to shut children up in order to prevent their running into the open air to devour earth after recent rain. The Indian women who are engaged on the river Magdalena, in the small village of Banco, in turning earthenware pots, continually fill their mouths with large lumps of clay, as I have frequently observed, much to my surprise.^[HL] Wolves eat earth, especially clay, during winter. It would be very important, in a physiological point of view, to examine the excrements of animals and men that eat earth. Individuals of all other tribes, excepting the Otomacs, lose their health if they yield to this singular propensity for eating clay. In the mission of San Borja we found the child of an Indian woman, which, according to the statement of its mother, would hardly eat anything but earth. It was, however, much emaciated, and looked like a mere skeleton.

Why is it that in the temperate and cold zones this morbid eagerness for eating earth is so much less frequently manifested, and is indeed limited almost entirely to children and pregnant women, whilst it would appear to be indigenous to the tropical lands of every quarter of the earth? In Guinea the negroes eat a yellowish earth, which they call caouac; and when they are carried as slaves to the West Indies they even endeavour there to procure for themselves some similar species of food, maintaining that the eating of earth is perfectly harmless in their African home. The caouac of the American islands, however, deranges the health of the slaves who partake of it; for which reason the eating of earth was long since forbidden in the West Indies, notwithstanding which a species of red or yellowish tuff (un tuf rouge jaunâtre) was secretly sold in the public market of Martinique in the year 1751.

“The negroes of Guinea say that in their own country they habitually eat a certain earth, the flavour of which is most agreeable to them, and which does not occasion them any inconvenience. Those who have addicted themselves to the excessive use of caouac are so partial to it, that no punishment can prevent them from devouring this earth.”^[HM] In the island of Java, between Sourabaya and Samarang, Labillardière saw 146small square reddish cakes publicly sold in the villages. The natives called them tana ampo (tanah signifies earth in Malay and Javanese); and on examining them more closely, he found that they were cakes made of a reddish clay, and intended for eating.^[HN] The edible clay of Samarang has recently (1847) beep sent, by Mohnike, to Berlin in the shape of rolled tubes like cinnamon, and has been examined by Ehrenberg. It is a fresh-water formation deposited in tertiary limestone, and composed of microscopic polygastrica (Gallionella, Navicula) and of Phytolitharia.^[HO] The natives of New Caledonia, to appease their hunger, eat lumps as large as the fist of friable steatite, in which Vauquelin detected an appreciable quantity of copper.^[HP] In Popayan and many parts of Peru calcareous earth is sold in the streets as an article of food for the Indians. This is eaten together with the Coca (the leaves of the Erythroxylon peruvianum). We thus find that the practice of eating earth is common throughout the whole of the torrid zone among the indolent races who inhabit the most beautiful and fruitful regions of the earth. But accounts have also come from the north, through Berzelius and Retzius, from which we learn, that in the most remote parts of Sweden hundreds of cartloads of earth containing infusoria are annually consumed by the country people as bread-meal, more from fancy (like the smoking of tobacco) than from necessity. In some parts of Finland a similar kind of earth is mixed with the bread. It consists of empty shells of animalcules, so small and soft, that they break between the teeth without any perceptible noise, filling the stomach without yielding any actual nourishment. Chronicles and archives often make mention during times of war of the employment as food of infusorial earth, which is spoken of under the indefinite and general term of “mountain meal.” Such, for instance, was the case in the Thirty Years’ War, at Camin in Pomerania, Muskau in the Lausitz, and Kleiken in the Dessau territory; and subsequently in 1719 and 1733, at the fortress of Wittenberg.^[HQ]

51. 147p. 20.—“Images graven in rocks.”

In the interior of South America, between the parallels of 2° and 4° north lat., lies a wooded plain inclosed by four rivers, the Orinoco, the Atabapo, the Rio Negro, and the Cassiquiare. Here we find granitic and syenitic rocks, which, like those of Caicara and Uruana, are covered with colossal symbolical figures of crocodiles, tigers, utensils of domestic use, signs of the sun and moon, &c. This remote portion of the earth is at present wholly uninhabited throughout an extent of more than 8000 square miles. The neighbouring tribes, who occupy the lowest place in the scale of humanity, are naked wandering savages, who could not possibly have carved hieroglyphics in stone. A whole range of these rocks covered with symbolical signs may be traced from Rupunuri, Essequibo, and the mountains of Pacaraima, to the banks of the Orinoco and of the Yupura, extending over more than eight degrees of longitude.

These carvings may belong to very different periods of time, for Sir Robert Schomburgk even found on the Rio Negro representations of a Spanish galliot,^[HR] which must necessarily have been of a date subsequent to the beginning of the sixteenth century, and that in a wilderness where the inhabitants were probably as rude then as they now are. But it must not be forgotten, as I have already elsewhere observed, that nations of very different descent, but in similarly uncivilized conditions, possessed of the same disposition to simplify and generalize outlines, and urged by identical inherent mental tendencies, may be led to produce similar signs and symbols.^[HS]

At the meeting of the Society of Antiquaries in London a memoir was read on the 17th of November, 1836, by Sir Robert Schomburgk, “On the religious traditions of the Macusi Indians, who inhabit the Upper Mahu, and a portion of the Pacaraima mountains,” and who have therefore not changed their habitation for a century (since the journey of the intrepid Hortsmann). “The Macusis,” says Sir Robert Schomburgk, “believe that the only being who survived a 148general deluge, repeopled the earth by converting stones into human beings.” This myth, which is the fruit of the lively imagination of these tribes, and which reminds us of that of Deucalion and Pyrrha, shows itself in a somewhat modified form among the Tamanacs of the Orinoco. When these people are asked how the human race survived this great flood, the age of waters of the Mexicans, they unhesitatingly reply, “that one man and one woman were saved by taking refuge on the summit of the lofty mountain of Tamanacu, on the banks of the Asiveru, and that they then threw over their heads the fruits of the Mauritia palm, from the kernels of which sprang men and women, who again peopled the earth.” Some miles from Encaramada there rises in the midst of the savannah the rock of Tepu-Mereme; i.e., the “painted rock,” which exhibits numerous figures of animals and symbolical signs, having much resemblance to those which we observed at some distance above Encaramada, near Caycara. (7° 5′ to 7° 40′ north lat., and 66° 28′ to 67° 23′ west long.) Similarly carved rocks are found between the Cassiquiare and the Atabapo (2° 5′ to 3° 20′ lat.); and what is most striking, also 560 miles further eastward in the solitudes of the Parime. The last-named fact is proved beyond a doubt, by the journal of Nicolas Hortsmann of Hildesheim, of which I have seen a copy in the handwriting of the celebrated d’Anville. That simple and modest traveller wrote down every day on the spot whatever had struck him as worthy of notice; and his narrative deserves perhaps the more confidence from the fact that the great disappointment he experienced in having failed in the object of his researches, which was the discovery of the Lake of Dorado, with its lumps of gold and a diamond mine (which proved to be merely rock crystal of a very pure kind), led him to look with a certain degree of contempt on all that fell in his way. On the bank of the Rupunuri, at the point where the river, winding between the Macarana mountains, forms several small cascades; and before reaching the country immediately surrounding the Lake of Amucu, he found, on the 16th of April, 1749, “rocks covered with figures,” or, as he says in Portuguese, “de varias letras” (with various letters or characters). We were shown, at the rock of Culimacari, on the banks of the Cassiquiare, signs said to be characters drawn by line and rule: 149but they were merely ill-formed figures of the heavenly bodies, crocodiles, boa-constrictors, and utensils used in the preparation of manioc-meal. I found among these painted rocks (piedras pintadas) neither a symmetrical arrangement nor any trace of characters drawn with a regard to regularity in space and size. The word “letras” in the journal of the German Surgeon (Hortsmann) must not, therefore, I am disposed to think, be taken in the strictest sense.

Schomburgk did not succeed in finding the rocks observed by Hortsmann, but he has described others which he saw on the bank of the Essequibo, near the cascade of Waraputa. “This cascade,” he says, “is celebrated not only for its height, but also for the great number of figures hewn in the rock, which bear a great resemblance to those that I have seen on the island of St. John, (one of the Virgin Islands,) and which I consider to be without doubt the work of the Caribs, by whom this part of the Antilles was peopled in former times. I made the most strenuous efforts to hew away a portion of the rock carved with inscriptions, which I was desirous of taking with me; but the stone was too hard, and my strength had been wasted by fever. Neither threats nor promises could prevail on the Indians to aim a single stroke of the hammer against these rocks—the venerable monuments of the culture and superior skill of their forefathers. They regard them as the work of the Great Spirit; and all the different tribes we met were acquainted with them, although living at a great distance. Terror was painted on the faces of my Indian companions who seemed to expect every moment that the fire of heaven would fall on my head. I now saw clearly that all my efforts were fruitless, and I was therefore obliged to content myself with bringing away a complete drawing of these monuments.”

The last resolution was undoubtedly the best, and the editor of the English journal, to my great satisfaction, subjoins in a note the remark, “that it is to be wished that others may succeed no better than Schomburgk, and that no traveller belonging to a civilized nation will in future attempt the destruction of these monuments of the unprotected Indians.”

The symbolical signs which Sir Robert Schomburgk found in the fluvial valley of the Essequibo, near the rapids of Waraputa,^[HT] resemble, indeed, according to his observation, 150the genuine Carib carvings of one of the smaller Virgin Islands (St. John); but notwithstanding the wide extent of the Carib invasions, and the ancient power of that fine race, I cannot believe that this vast belt of carved rocks which intersects a great portion of South America from west to east, is actually to be ascribed to the Caribs. These remains seem rather to be traces of an ancient civilization, which may have belonged to an epoch when the tribes, whom we now distinguish by various names and races, were still unknown. The veneration which is everywhere shown by the Indians for these rude carvings of their predecessors, proves that the present races have no idea of the execution of similar works. Nay, more than this, between Encaramada and Caycara, on the banks of the Orinoco, many of these hieroglyphic figures are found sculptured on the sides of rocks at a height which can now only be reached by means of extremely high scaffolding. When asked who can have carved these figures, the natives answer with a smile, as if it were a fact of which none but a white man could be ignorant, that “in the days of the great waters their fathers sailed in canoes at this height.” Here we find a geological dream serving as a solution of the problem presented by a long extinct civilization.

I would here be permitted to subjoin a remark, which I borrow from a letter addressed to me by Sir Robert Schomburgk, the distinguished traveller already mentioned. “The hieroglyphic figures are much more widely extended than you probably have conjectured. During my expedition, the object of which was the exploration of the river Corentyn, I not only observed several gigantic figures on the rock of Timeri (4° 30′ north lat. and 57° 30′ west long.), but I also discovered similar ones in the vicinity of the great cataracts of the river Corentyn (in 4° 21′ 30″ north lat. and 57° 55′ 30″ west long.) These figures have been executed more carefully than any others which I met with in Guiana. They are about 12 feet in height and appear to represent human figures. The head-gear is extremely remarkable; it surrounds the entire head, spreads far out, and is not unlike the glory represented round the heads of Saints. I left drawings of these images in the colony, which I hope some day to be able to lay collectively before the public. I have seen less complete figures on the Cuyuwini, a river which, flowing from the 151north-west, empties itself into the Essequibo in 2° 16′ north lat.; and I subsequently found similar figures on the Essequibo itself in 1° 40′ north lat. These figures, therefore, as appears from actual observations, extend from 7° 10′ to 1° 40′ north lat., and from 57° 30′ to 66° 30′ west long. The zone (or belt) of the sculptured rocks (as far as it has yet been investigated) thus extends over an area of 192,000 square miles, and includes within its circuit the basins of the Corentyn, Essequibo, and Orinoco—a circumstance that enables us to judge of the former population of this portion of the continent.”

Remarkable relics of a former culture, consisting of granitic vessels ornamented with beautiful representations of labyrinths, and the earthenware forms resembling the Roman masks, have been discovered among the wild Indians on the Mosquito coast.^[HU] I had them engraved in the picturesque Atlas appended to the historical portion of my travels. Antiquarians are astonished at the resemblance of these algreco vessels to those which embellish the Palace of Mitla (near Oaxaca, in New Spain). The large-nosed race, who are so frequently sculptured in relief on the Palenque of Guatimala and in Aztec pictures, I have never observed in Peruvian carvings. Klaproth recollects having noticed that the Chalkas, a horde of Northern Mongolia, had similar large noses. It is universally known, that many races of the North American, Canadian, and copper-coloured Indians, have fine aquiline noses, which constitute an essential physiognomical mark of distinction between them and the present inhabitants of New Granada, Quito, and Peru. Are the large-eyed, fair-skinned natives of the north-west coast of America, of whom Marchand speaks as living in 54° and 58° north lat., descended from the Usuns, an Alano-Gothic race of Central Asia?

52. p. 20.—“Deal certain death with a poisoned thumb-nail.”

The Otomacs frequently poison their thumb-nails with curare. The mere impress of the nail proves fatal, should the curare become mixed with the blood. We have in our possession the creeping plant, from the juice of which the curare is prepared, in the Esmeralda Mission, on the Upper Orinoco, 152but, unfortunately, we did not find the plant when in blossom. From its physiognomy, it seems to be allied to Strychnos.^[HV]

Since I wrote the above notice of the Curare, or Urari, as the plant and poison were called by Raleigh, the brothers Robert and Richard Schomburgk have rendered important service to science by making us accurately acquainted with the nature and mode of preparing this substance, which I was the first to bring to Europe in any considerable quantity. Richard Schomburgk found this creeping plant in flower in Guiana, on the banks of the Pomeroon and Sururu, in the territory of the Caribs, who are, however, ignorant of the mode of preparing the poison. His instructive work^[HW] gives the chemical analysis of the juice of the Strychnos toxifera, which, notwithstanding its name and organic structure, contains, according to Boussingault, no trace of strychnine. Virchow’s and Münter’s interesting physiological experiments show that the curare or urari poison does not appear to destroy by resorption from without, but chiefly when it is absorbed by the animal substance after the separation of the continuity of the latter; that curare does not belong to tetanic poisons; and that it especially produces paralysis, i.e., a cessation of voluntary muscular movement, while the function of the involuntary muscles (as the heart and intestines) continues unimpaired.^[HX]

53. p. 154—“Across that pacific arm of the sea.”

The Atlantic Ocean, between the parallels of 23° south lat. and 70° north lat., has the form of a furrowed longitudinal valley, in which the advancing and receding angles are opposite to each other. I first developed this idea in my work entitled Essai d’un Tableau Géologique de l’Amérique méridionale, which was published in the Journal de Physique, t. liii. p. 61.^[IC] From the Canary Isles, especially from 21° north lat., and 23° west long., to the north-east coast of South America, the surface of the ocean is so calm, and the waves so gentle, that an open boat might navigate it in safety.

54. p. 155—“Fresh springs among the Islands of the Antilles.”

On the southern coast of the island of Cuba, south-west of the harbour of Batabano, in the Gulf of Xagua, at a distance of eight to twelve miles from the shore, springs of fresh water gush from the bed of the ocean, probably from the action of hydrostatic pressure. The jet is propelled with such force that boats use extreme caution in approaching this spot, which is well known for its counter current producing a heavy swell. Trading vessels sailing along the coast, which do not purpose putting into port, sometimes visit these springs, in order to provide themselves, in the midst of the ocean, with a supply of fresh water. The freshness of the water increases with the depth from which it is drawn. River cows (Trichecus manati), which do not generally inhabit salt water, are frequently killed here. This singular phenomenon (the fresh springs), of which no mention had hitherto been made, was most accurately investigated by my friend, Don Francisco Lemaur, who made a trigonometrical survey of the Bahia de Xagua. I did not myself visit Xagua, but remained in the insular group situated further to the south (the so-called Jardines del Rey), to make astronomical determinations of their latitude and longitude.

55. p. 155—“Ancient rocky barrier.”

Columbus, whose unwearied spirit of observation was directed 175on every side, proposes in his letters to the Spanish monarchs, a geognostic hypothesis regarding the configuration of the larger Antilles. Being fully impressed with the idea of the strength of the Equinoctial current, which has often a westerly direction, he ascribes to it the disintegration of the group of the smaller Antilles, and the singularly lengthened configuration of the southern coasts of Porto Rico, Haiti, Cuba, and Jamaica, all of which follow almost exactly the direction of parallels of latitude. On his third voyage (from the end of May, 1498, to the end of November, 1500), when, from the Boca del Drago to the Island of Margarita, and afterwards from that island to Haiti, he felt the whole force of the equinoctial current, “that movement of the waters which accords with the movement of the heavens—movimiento de los cielos,” he says expressly that the violence of the current has torn the Island of Trinidad from the mainland. He refers the sovereigns to a chart which he sends them—a “pintura de la tierra,” drawn by himself, to which frequent reference is made in the celebrated lawsuit against Don Diego Colon respecting the rights of the first Admiral. “Es la carta de marear y figura que hizo el Almirante señalando los rumbos y vientos por los quales vino á Paria, que dicen parte del Asia.”^[ID]

56. p. 156—“Across the snow-crowned Paropanisus.”

In Diodorus’ description of the Paropanisus,^[IE] we seem to recognise a delineation of the Peruvian chain of the Andes. The army passed through inhabited districts in which snow daily fell!

57. p. 156—“Herrera in his Decades.”

Historia general de las Indias Occidentales, Dec. i. lib. iii. cap. 12 (ed. 1601, p. 106); Juan Batista Muñoz, Historia del Nuevo Mundo, lib. vi. c. 31, p. 301; Humboldt, Examen Crit., t. iii. p. 111.

58. p. 158—“The Sources of the Orinoco have never been visited by any European.”

Thus I wrote respecting these sources in the year 1807, in 176the first edition of the Ansichten der Natur, and I repeat with equal truth the same statement after an interval of forty-one years. The travels of the brothers Robert and Richard Schomburgk, so important in reference to all departments of natural science and geography, have established other and more interesting facts; but the problem of the situation of the sources of the Orinoco has been only partially solved by Sir Robert Schomburgk. M. Bonpland and myself advanced from the west as far as Esmeralda, or the confluence of the Orinoco with the Guapo; and I was enabled, by the aid of well-attested information, to describe the upper course of the Orinoco to above the mouth of the Gehette, and to the small waterfall (Raudal) de los Guaharibos. From the east Sir Robert Schomburgk, proceeding from the mountains of the Majonkong Indians, the inhabited portion of which he estimated by the boiling point of water to be 3517 feet in height, succeeded in reaching the Orinoco by the Padamo River, which the Majonkongs and Guinaus (Guaynas?) call Paramu.^[IF] I had placed this confluence of the Padamo with the Orinoco in my Atlas, in 3° 12′ N. lat., and 65° 46′ W. long. but Schomburgk found it by direct observation in 2° 53′ lat. and 65° 48′ W. long. The main object of this traveller’s journey was not ‘natural history,’ but the solution of the prize question proposed by the Royal Geographical Society of London, in November, 1834,—on the connection of the coast of British Guiana with the easternmost point which I had reached on the Upper Orinoco. After undergoing many sufferings, this object was thoroughly achieved. Robert Schomburgk reached Esmeralda, with his instruments, on the 22nd of February, 1839. His determinations of the latitude and longitude of the place agreed more closely with mine than I had anticipated. Let us here allow the observer to speak for himself:—“Words are inadequate to describe the feelings which overwhelmed me when I sprang on shore. My object was attained; my observations, begun on the coast of Guiana, were brought into connection with those of Humboldt at Esmeralda, and I freely admit that at a time when my physical powers had almost entirely deserted me, and when I was surrounded by dangers and difficulties of no ordinary kind, the recognition which I hoped 177for from him, was the sole inducement which inspired me with a fixed determination to press forward towards the goal which I had now reached. The emaciated figures of my Indian companions and my faithful guides proclaimed more fully than any words could do, what difficulties we had had to surmount, and had surmounted.” After citing expressions so gratifying, I must be permitted to subjoin the opinions I expressed regarding this great undertaking promoted by the Royal Geographical Society of London, in my Preface to the German edition of Robert Schomburgk’s Account of his Travels, published in 1841. “Immediately after my return from Mexico, I indicated the direction and the routes by which the unknown portion of the South American Continent between the sources of the Orinoco, the mountain chain of Pacaraima, and the sea-shore near Essequibo, might be explored. These wishes, so strongly expressed in the personal narrative of my journey, have at length, after the lapse of nearly half a century, been for the most part fulfilled. I rejoice that I have been spared to see so important an enlargement of our geographical knowledge; I rejoice too in seeing a courageous and well-conducted enterprise, requiring the most devoted perseverance, executed by a young man, to whom I feel bound no less by the ties of similarity of pursuits than those of country. These circumstances were alone able to overcome the aversion and disinclination which I entertain, perhaps unjustly, for introductory prefaces by a different hand than that of the author himself. But I could not resist the impulse of expressing thus publicly my sincere esteem for the accomplished traveller who, led on by the meritorious idea of penetrating from east to west, from the Valley of the Essequibo to Esmeralda, has succeeded, after five years of efforts and of sufferings (the extent of which I well appreciate from my own experience), in attaining the object of his ambition. Courage for the sudden accomplishment of a hazardous undertaking is easier to find, and implies less inward strength, than the resolution to endure with resignation long-continued physical sufferings, excited by absorbing mental interest; and still to press forward, undismayed by the certainty of having to retrace his steps under equally great privations and with enfeebled powers. Serenity of mind, which is almost the first requisite for an 178enterprise in inhospitable regions, a passionate love for any department of scientific labour (be it natural history, astronomy, hypsometrics, or magnetism), a pure feeling for the enjoyment which nature is capable of imparting, are elements which, when they combine together in one individual, ensure valuable results from a great and important journey.”

I will preface my consideration of the question of the sources of the Orinoco with my own conjectures in relation to the subject. The perilous route travelled in 1739 by the surgeon Nicolas Hortsmann, of Hildesheim; in 1775 by the Spaniard Don Antonio Santos, and his friend Nicolas Rodriguez; in 1793 by the Lieutenant-Colonel of the 1st Regiment of the Line of Para, Don Francisco José Rodriguez Barata; and (according to manuscript maps, for which I am indebted to the former Portuguese Ambassador in Paris, Chevalier de Brito) by several English and Dutch settlers, who in 1811 travelled from Surinam to Para by the portage of the Rupunuri and by the Rio Branco;—divides the terra incognita of the Parime into two unequal parts, and serves to mark the position of a very important point in the geography of those regions—viz., the sources of the Orinoco, which it is no longer possible to remove to an indefinite distance towards the east, without intersecting the bed of the Rio Branco, which flows from north to south through the fluvial district of the Upper Orinoco; while this portion of the great river itself pursues for the most part a direction from east to west. The Brazilians, since the beginning of the present century, have from political motives manifested a vivid interest in the extensive plains east of the Rio Branco.^[IG] Owing to the position of Santa Rosa on the Uraricapara, whose course appears to have been pretty accurately determined by Portuguese engineers, the sources of the Orinoco cannot be situated east of the meridian of 63° 8′ west long. This is the eastern limit beyond which they cannot be placed, and taking into consideration the state of the river at the Raudal de los Guaharibos (above Caño Chiguire, in the country of the strikingly fair-skinned Guaycas Indians, and 52′ east of the great Cerro 179Duida), it appears to me probable that the Orinoco in its upper part does not extend, at the utmost, beyond the meridian of 64° 8′ west long. This point is, according to my combinations, 4° 12′ west of the little lake of Amucu, which was reached by Sir Robert Schomburgk.

I will now detail the conjectures of that traveller, after having first given my own earlier ones. According to him the course of the Upper Orinoco, to the east of Esmeralda, is directed from south-east to north-west; my estimations of latitude for the mouths of the Padamo and the Gehette appear to be respectively 19′ and 36′ too small. Schomburgk conjectures that the sources of the Orinoco are situated in lat. 2° 30′, and the fine “Map of Guayana, to illustrate the route of R. H. Schomburgk,” which accompanies the splendid English work entitled Views in the Interior of Guiana, places its geographical sources in 64° 56′ west long., i.e., 1° 6′ west of Esmeralda, and only 48′ of longitude nearer to the Atlantic than I had determined the position of this point. Astronomical combinations led Schomburgk to place the mountain of Maravaca, which is about ten thousand feet high, in 3° 41′ lat. and 65° 48′ west long. The Orinoco was scarcely three hundred yards wide near the mouth of the Padamo or Paramu, and more to the west, where it expands to a width of from four to six hundred yards, it was so shallow, and so full of sandbanks, that the expedition was obliged to dig channels, as the river bed was only fifteen inches deep. Fresh-water dolphins were still to be seen in great numbers everywhere—a phenomenon which the zoologists of the eighteenth century would not have expected to find in the Orinoco and the Ganges.

59. p. 158—“The most luxurious product of a tropical climate.”

The Bertholletia excelsa (Juvia), of the family of Myrtaceæ (and placed in Richard Schomburgk’s proposed division of Lecythideæ), was first described in Plantes Equinoxiales, t. i. 1808, p. 122, tab. 36. This colossal and magnificent tree offers, in the perfect development of its cocoa-like, round, close-grained, woody fruit, inclosing the three-cornered and also woody seed-vessels, the most remarkable example of luxuriant organic development. The Bertholletia grows in 180the forests of the Upper Orinoco, between the Padamo and the Ocamu, in the vicinity of the mountain of Mapaya, as well as between the rivers Amaguaca and Gehette.^[IH]

60. p. 158—“Grass stalks, whose joints measure upwards of eighteen feet from knot to knot.”

Robert Schomburgk, when visiting the small mountainous country of the Majonkongs, on his route to Esmeralda, was fortunate enough to determine the species of Arundinaria, which furnishes the material for these blowing-tubes. He says of this plant: “It grows in large tufts, like the bambusa; the first joint rises, in the old cane, without a knot, to a height of from 16 to 17 feet before it begins to bear leaves. The entire height of the Arundinaria, growing at the foot of the great mountain-cluster of Maravaca, is from 30 to 40 feet, with a thickness of scarcely half an inch in diameter. The top is always inclined; and this species of grass is peculiar to the sandstone mountains between the Ventuari, the Paramu (Padamo), and the Mavaca. The Indian name is Curata, and, therefore, from the excellence of these celebrated long blowing-tubes, the Majonkongs and Guinaus of these districts have acquired the name of the Curata nation.”^[II]

61. p. 159—“Fabulous origin of the Orinoco from a lake.”

The lakes of these regions (some of which are wholly imaginary, while the real size of others has been much exaggerated by theoretical geographers) may be divided into two groups. The first of these groups comprise those situate between Esmeralda (the most easterly mission on the Upper Orinoco), and the Rio Branco; to the second, belong the lakes presumed to exist in the district between the Rio Branco and French, Dutch, and British Guiana. This general view, of which travellers should never lose sight, proves that the question of whether there is another Lake Parime eastward of the Rio Branco, besides the Lake Amucu, seen by Hortsmann, Santos, Colonel Barata, and Schomburgk, has nothing whatever to do with the problem of the sources of the Orinoco. As the name of my distinguished friend the former Director of the Hydrographic Office at Madrid, Don Felipe Bauza, is 181of great weight in questions of geography, the impartiality which ought to influence every scientific investigation makes it incumbent on me to mention that this learned man was inclined to the view that there must be lakes west of the Rio Branco, at no great distance from the sources of the Orinoco. He wrote to me from London shortly before his death, “I wish you were here that I might converse with you respecting the geography of the Upper Orinoco, which has occupied you so much. I have been fortunate enough to rescue from entire destruction the papers of the General of Marine, Don José Solano, father of the Solano who perished in so melancholy a manner at Cadiz. These documents relate to the settlement of the boundary line between the Spaniards and Portuguese, with which Solano had been charged since 1754, in conjunction with the Escadre Chef Yturriaga and Don Vicente Doz. In all these plans and sketches I find a Laguna Parime sometimes as a source of the Orinoco, and sometimes as wholly detached from it. Are we then to assume that there is another lake further eastward to the north-east of Esmeralda?”

Löffling, the celebrated pupil of Linnæus, accompanied the last-named expedition to Cumana in the capacity of botanist. He died on the 22nd of February, 1756, at the mission of Santa Eulalia de Murucuri (somewhat to the south of the confluence of the Orinoco and Caroni), after traversing the missions on the Piritu and Caroni. The documents of which Bauza speaks are the same as those on which the great map of De la Cruz Olmedilla is based. They have served as the foundation of all the maps of South America, which appeared in England, France, and Germany, before the end of the last century; and have also served for the two maps executed in 1756 by Father Caulin, the historiographer of Solano’s expedition, and by M. de Surville, Keeper of the Archives in the Secretary of State’s Office at Madrid, who was but an unskilful compiler. The contradictions abounding in these maps show the little reliance that can be placed on the results of this expedition. Nay more, Father Caulin, above referred to, acutely details the circumstances which gave rise to this fable of the lake of Parime; and the map of Surville, which accompanies his work, not only restores this lake, under the name of the White Lake, and the Mar Dorado, but indicates another smaller one, from which flow partly by means 182of collateral branches, the Orinoco, Siapa, and Ocamo. I was able to convince myself on the spot of the following facts well known in the missions; that Don José Solano did not do more than cross the cataracts of Atures and Maypures; that he did not reach the confluence of the Guaviare and the Orinoco in 4° 3′ north lat., and 68° 9′ west long.; and that the astronomical instruments of the boundary expedition were neither carried to the isthmus of the Pimichin and the Rio Negro, nor to the Cassiquiare; and even on the Upper Orinoco, not beyond the mouth of the Atabapo. This vast extent of territory was not made the scene of any accurate observations before my journey, and has subsequently to Solano’s expedition been traversed only by some few soldiers who had been sent on exploring expeditions; while Don Apolinario de Fuente, whose journal I obtained from the archives of the province of Quixos, has gathered without discrimination everything from the fallacious narratives of the Indians that could flatter the credulity of the Governor Centurion. No member of the expedition had seen a lake, and Don Apolinario was unable to advance beyond the Cerro Yumarique and Gehette.

Although a line of separation, formed by the basin of the Rio Branco, is now established throughout the whole extent of the country, to which we are desirous of directing the inquiring zeal of travellers, it must yet be admitted, that our geographical knowledge of the district west of this valley between 62° and 66° long., has made no advance whatever for at least a century. The repeated attempts made by the Government of Spanish Guiana since the expeditions of Iturria and Solano, to reach and to pass over the Pacaraima Mountains, have been attended by very unimportant results. When the Spaniards, in proceeding to the missions of the Catalonian capuchins of Barceloneta, at the confluence of the Caroni and the Rio Paragua, ascended the last-named river southward to its junction with the Paraguamusi, they founded at this point the mission of Guirion, which, at first, bore the pompous appellation of Ciudad de Guirion. I place it in about 4° 30′ north latitude. From thence the Governor Centurion, in consequence of the exaggerated accounts given by two Indian chiefs, Paranacare and Arimuicapi, respecting the powerful tribe of the Ipurucotos, was excited to search for ‘El Dorado,’ and in carrying what were then called spiritual conquests still further, founded, beyond the 183Pacaraima Mountains, the two villages of Santa Rosa and San Bautista de Caudacacla. The former was situate on the upper eastern bank of the Uraricapara, a tributary of the Uraricuera, which I find in the journal of Rodriguez under the name of the Rio Curaricara; the latter, at from 24 to 28 miles further east-south-east. The astronomo-geographer of the Portuguese Boundary Commission, Captain Don Antonio Pires de Sylva Pontes Leme, and the Captain of Engineers, Don Ricardo Franco d’Almeida de Serra, who between 1787 and 1804, surveyed with the greatest care the whole course of the Rio Branco and its upper tributaries, call the most western part of the Uraricapara, “The Valley of Inundation.” They place the Spanish mission of Santa Rosa in 3° 46′ north lat., and mark the route that leads from thence northward across the mountain chain to the Caño Anocapra, a branch of the Paraguamusi, which forms a connecting passage between the basin of the Rio Branco and that of the Caroni. Two maps of these Portuguese officers, embracing all the details of the trigonometrical survey of the bends of the Rio Branco, the Uraricuera, the Tacutu, and the Mahu, were most kindly communicated to Colonel Lapie and myself by the Count of Linhares. These valuable unpublished documents, of which I have availed myself, are still in the hands of the learned geographer, who long since began to have them engraved at his own expense. The Portuguese sometimes call the whole of the Rio Branco by the name of Rio Parime, and sometimes limit this appellation to one branch only, the Uraricuera, somewhat below the Caño Mayari and above the old mission of San Antonio. As the words Paragua and Parime alike imply water, great water, lake, and sea, we cannot wonder at finding them so often repeated among tribes living at great distances from each other; as, for instance, by the Omaguas on the Upper Marañon, by the Western Guaranis, and by the Caribs. In all parts of the world, as I have already remarked, large rivers are called by those who live on their banks “the River,” without any specific denomination. Paragua, the name of a branch of the Caroni, is also the term applied by the natives to the Upper Orinoco. The name Orinucu is Tamanakish; and Diego de Ordaz first heard it used in the year 1531, when he ascended to the mouth of the Meta. Besides the Valley of Inundation above mentioned 184we find other large pieces of water between the Rio Xumuru and the Parime. One of these bays is a branch of the Tacutu, and the other of the Uraricuera. Even at the base of the Pacaraima Mountains the rivers are subject to great periodical overflowings; and the Lake Amucu, of which we shall subsequently speak more fully, exhibits exactly the same character at the commencement of the plains. The Spanish missions, Santa Rosa and San Bautista de Caudacacla, or Cayacaya, founded in the years 1770 and 1773, by the Governor Don Manuel Centurion, were destroy ed before the close of the last century; and since that time, no new attempt has been made to advance from the basin of the Caroni to the southern declivity of the Pacaraima Mountains.

The territory east of the valley of the Rio Branco has of late years been made the subject of several successful explorations. Mr. Hillhouse navigated the Massaruni as far as the Bay of Caranang, whence, as he says, a path would lead the traveller, in two days, to the source of the Massaruni; and, in three days, to the tributaries of the Rio Branco. With respect to the windings of the great river Massaruni, described by Mr. Hillhouse, he himself observes, in a letter addressed to me from Demerara, 1st January, 1831, that “the Massaruni, reckoning from its sources, flows first to the west, then for one degree of latitude to the north; afterwards nearly 200 miles eastward; and, finally, to the north and north-north-east till it merges in the Essequibo.” As Mr. Hillhouse was unable to reach the southern declivity of the Pacaraima chain, he was not acquainted with the Amucu Lake; and he says himself, in his printed report, that “from the accounts given him by the Accaouais, who are continually traversing the country between the shore and the Amazon River, he is convinced there is no lake in this district.” This assertion occasioned me some surprise, as it was directly opposed to the views I had previously formed regarding the Lake Amucu, from which flows the Caño Pirara, according to the accounts given by the travellers Hortsmann, Santos, and Rodriguez (and which had inspired me with the more confidence, because they entirely coincide with the recent Portuguese manuscript charts). Finally, after five years of expectation, Schomburgk’s journey has removed all farther doubt.

“It is difficult to believe,” says Mr. Hillhouse, in his interesting 185memoir on the Massaruni, “that the tradition of a large inland sea is wholly unfounded. According to my views, the following circumstance may have given rise to the belief in the existence of the fabulous lake of the Parime. At some distance from the rocky fall of Teboco the waters of the Massaruni present to the eye as little motion as the calm surface of a lake. If at a more or less remote period the horizontal granitic strata of Teboco had been totally compact and without fissures, the waters must have been at least 50 feet above their present level, and there would have been formed an immense lake 10 or 12 miles in width, and 1500 or 2000 miles in length.”^[IJ] The extent of this supposed inundation is not the only reason which prevents me from acceding to this explanation; for I have seen plains (Llanos), where, during the rainy season, the overflowing of the tributaries of the Orinoco annually covered a surface of 6400 square miles. The labyrinth of ramifications between the Apure, Arauca, Capanaparo, and Sinaruco (see maps 17 and 18 of my Physical Atlas), is then wholly lost sight of; the configuration of the river beds can no longer be traced, and the whole appears like one vast lake. But the locality of the fabulous Dorado, and of the Lake Parime, belongs historically to quite a different part of Guiana, namely, that lying south of the Pacaraima mountains. This myth of the White Sea and of the Dorado of the Parime, has arisen, as I endeavoured thirty years ago to show in another work, from the appearance of the micaceous rocks of the Ucucuamo, the name Rio Parime (Rio Branco), the inundations of the tributaries; and especially from the existence of the lake Amucu, which is in the neighbourhood of the Rio Rupunuwini (Rupunuri), and is connected by means of the Pirara with the Rio Parime.

I have had much pleasure in finding that the travels of Sir Robert Schomburgk have fully corroborated these early views. The section of his map which gives the course of the Essequibo and of the Rupunuri is quite new, and of great importance in a geographical point of view. It places the Pacaraima chain between 3° 52′and 4° north lat., while I had given its mean direction from 4° to 4° 10′. The chain reaches the confluence of the Essequibo and Rupunuri in 3° 57′ north lat., and 58° 1′ west longitude; I had placed it half a degree too 186far to the north. Schomburgk calls the last-named river Rupununi, according to the pronunciation of the Macusis; and gives as the synonymes Rupunuri, Rupunuwini and Opununy, which have arisen from the difficulty the Carib tribes of these districts find in pronouncing the letter “r.” The position of the lake Amucu and its relations to the Mahu (Maou) and Tacutu (Tacoto) correspond perfectly with my map of Colombia drawn in 1825. We agree equally well regarding the latitude of the lake of Amucu, for while he places it in 3° 33′, I considered it to be in 3° 35′; the Caño Pirara (Pirarara) which connects the Amucu with the Rio Branco, flows from it towards the north, and not to the west as I had marked it. The Sibarana of my map, the sources of which Hortsmann placed to the north of the Cerro Ucucuamo near a fine mine of rock crystal, is the Siparuni of Schomburgk’s map. His Waa-Ekuru is the Tavaricaru of the Portuguese geographer Pontes Leme, and is the branch of the Rupunuri which lies the nearest to the lake of Amucu.

The following remarks from the report of Sir Robert Schomburgk throw some light on the subject in question. “The lake of Amucu,” says this traveller, “is without doubt the nucleus of the Lake of Parime and of the supposed White Sea. In December and January, when we visited it, it was scarcely a mile in length, and was half covered with reeds.” The same observation occurs on D’Anville’s map of 1748. “The Pirara flows from the lake to the W.N.W. of the Indian village of Pirara and falls into the Maou or Mahu. The last-named river rises, according to the information given me, north of the ridge of the Pacaraima mountains, which in their eastern portion do not attain a greater elevation than about 1600 feet. The sources of the river are on a plateau, from whence it is precipitated in a beautiful waterfall, known as the Corona. We were on the point of visiting this fall, when on the third day of our excursion to the mountains, the indisposition of one of my companions compelled me to return to the station at the lake Amucu. The Mahu has black coffee-coloured water, and its current is more impetuous than that of the Rupunuri. In the mountains through which it pursues its course it is about 60 yards in breadth. Its environs are here extremely picturesque. This valley as well as the bank of the Buroburo, which flows into the Siparuni, are inhabited by the Macusis. 187In April the whole Savannahs are overflowed, and then present the peculiar phenomenon of the waters belonging to two different river basins commingling together. It is probable that the vast extent of this temporary inundation may have given rise to the fable of the lake of Parime. During the rainy season a water communication is formed in the interior of the country between the Essequibo, the Rio Branco, and the Gran Para. Some groups of trees, rising like Oases on the sand-hills of the Savannahs, present, at the time of the inundation, the appearance of islands scattered over a lake; and these are without doubt the Ipomucena islands of Don Antonio Santos.”

In D’Anville’s manuscripts, which his heirs kindly allowed me to examine, I find that Hortsmann of Hildesheim, who described these districts with great care, saw a second Alpine lake, which he places two day’s journey above the confluence of the Mahu with the Rio Parime (Tacutu?). It is a black water lake, situated on the summit of a mountain. He explicitly distinguishes it from the lake of Amucu, which he describes as “covered with rushes.” The descriptions given by Hortsmann and Santos coincide with the Portuguese manuscript maps of the Marine Bureau at Rio Janeiro, in not indicating the existence of an uninterrupted connection between the Rupunuri and the lake of Amucu. In D’Anville’s maps of South America, the rivers are better drawn in the first edition published in 1748, than in the more extensively circulated one of 1760. Schomburgk’s travels fully confirm the independence of the basin of the Rupunuri and Essequibo; but he draws attention to the fact that, during the rainy season, the Rio Waa-Ekuru, a tributary of the Rupunuri, is in connection with the Caño Pirara. Such is the condition of these river-channels, which are still but little developed, and almost entirely without separating ridges.

The Rupunuri and the village of Anai, 3° 56′ north latitude, 58° 34′ west longitude, are at present recognised as the political boundaries between the British and Brazilian domains in these desert regions. Sir Robert Schomburgk was compelled by severe illness to make a protracted stay at Anai. He bases his chronometrical determinations of the position of the lake of Amucu on the mean of many lunar distances, east and west, which he measured during his sojourn at Anai. His 188determinations of longitude for these points of the Parime are in general one degree more east than those in my map of Colombia. While I am far from calling in question the result of these lunar observations taken at Anai, I may be allowed to observe that the calculation of these distances is of importance, when it is desired to carry the comparison from the lake of Amucu to Esmeralda, which I found in 66° 19′ west longitude.

Thus then we see the great Mar de la Parima, (which it was so difficult to remove from our maps, that even after my return from America it was still supposed to be 160 miles in length,) reduced by recent investigations to the lake of Amucu, measuring only two or three miles in circumference. The illusions entertained for nearly two hundred years, and which in the last Spanish expedition, in 1775, for the discovery of El Dorado, cost several hundred lives, have finally terminated by enriching geography with some few results. In the year 1512 thousands of soldiers perished in the expedition, undertaken by Ponce de Leon, to discover the “Fountain of Youth,” on one of the Bahama Islands, called Binimi, which is hardly to be found on any of our maps. This expedition led to the conquest of Florida, and to the knowledge of the great oceanic current, or gulf-stream, which flows through the Straights of Bahama. The thirst after gold, and the desire of rejuvenescence—the Dorado and the Fountain of Youth—stimulated, to an almost equal extent, the passions of mankind.

62. p. 161—“The Piriguao, one of the noblest forms of the Palm.”

Compare Humboldt, Bonpland, and Kunth, Nova Genera Plantarum, and Plant. æquinoct., t. i. p. 315.

63. p. 171—“The grave of an extinct race.”

During my stay in the forests of the Orinoco, researches were being made, by royal command, in reference to these bone-caves. The missionary of the cataracts had been falsely accused of having discovered in these caves treasures which the Jesuits had concealed there prior to their flight.

64. p. 172—“When his language perished with him.”

The parrot of the Atures has been made the subject of a 189charming poem by my friend Professor Ernst Curtius, the tutor of the promising young Prince Friedrick Wilhelm of Prussia. The author will forgive me for closing the present section of the “Views of Nature” with this poem, which was not designed for publication, and was communicated to me by letter.

65. p. 191.—“Characteristic denominations in Arabic and Persian.”

More than twenty words might be cited by which the Arabs distinguish between a Steppe (tanufah), according as it may be a Desert without water, entirely bare, or covered with siliceous sand, and interspersed with spots of pasture land (Sahara, Kafr, Mikfar, Tih, Mehme). Sahl is a depressed plain; Dakkah a desolate elevated plateau. In Persian Beyaban is an arid sandy waste (as the Mongolian Gobi and the Chinese Han-hai and Scha-mo); Yaila is a Steppe covered with grass rather than with low-growing plants (like the Mongolian Küdah, the Turkish Tala or Tschol, and the Chinese Huang). Deschti-reft is a naked elevated plateau.^[IK]

66. p. 191.—“The old Castilian dialects.”

Pico, picacho, mogote, cucurucho, espigon, loma tendida, mesa, panecillo, farallon, tablon, peña, peñon, peñasco, peñoleria, roca partida, laxa, cerro, sierra, serrania, cordillera, monte, montaña, montañuela, cadena de montes, los altos, malpais, reventazon, bufa, &c.

67. p. 194.—“Where the map had indicated Montes de Cacao.”

On the range of hills from which the lofty Andes de Cuchao have originated, see my Relation historique, t. iii. p. 238.

68. p. 197.—“Hermesia.”

The genus Hermesia, the Sauso, has been described by Bonpland, and is delineated in our Plantes équinoxiales, t. i. p. 162, tab. xlvi.

69. p. 199.—“The fresh-water dolphin.”

These are not sea dolphins, which, like some species of Pleuronectes (flat fish which invariably have both eyes on one side of the body), ascend the rivers to a great distance, as, 203for instance, the Limande (Pleuronectes Limanda), which is found as far inland as Orleans. Some forms of sea fish, as the dolphin and skate (Raia), are met with in the great rivers of both continents. The fresh-water dolphin of the Apure and the Orinoco differs specifically from the Delphinus gangeticus as well as from all sea dolphins.^[IL]

70. p. 199.—“The striped nocturnal monkey.”

This is the Douroucouli or Cusi-cusi of the Cassiquiare which I have elsewhere described as the Simia trivirgata,^[IM] from a drawing made by myself of the living animal. We have since seen the nocturnal monkey living in the menagerie of the Jardin des Plantes at Paris.^[IN] Spix also met with this remarkable little animal on the Amazon River and called it Nyctipithecus vociferans.

71. p. 210—“On the Chimborazo, upwards of eight thousand feet higher than Etna.”

Small singing birds, and even butterflies, (as I have myself witnessed in the Pacific,) are often met with at great distances from the shore, during storms blowing off land. In a similar manner insects are involuntarily carried into the higher regions of the atmosphere, to an elevation of 17,000 to 19,000 feet above the plains. The light bodies of these insects are borne upwards by the vertically ascending currents of air caused by the heated condition of the earth’s surface. M. Boussingault, an admirable chemist, who ascended the Gneiss Mountains of Caracas, while holding the appointment of Professor in the newly established Mining Academy at Santa Fé de Bogotá, witnessed, during his ascent to the summit of the Silla, a phenomenon which confirmed in a most remarkable manner this vertical ascent of air. He and his companion, Don Mariano de Rivero, observed at noon a number of luminous whitish bodies rise from the valley of Caracas to the summit of the Silla, an elevation of 5755 feet, and then sink towards the adjacent sea coast. This phenomenon was uninterruptedly prolonged for a whole hour, when it was discovered that the bodies, at first mistaken for a flock of small birds, were a number of minute balls of grass-haums. Boussingault sent me some of this grass, which was immediately recognised by Professor Kunth as a species of Vilfa, a genus of grass which together with Agrostis is of frequent occurrence in the provinces of Caracas and Cumana. It was the Vilfa tenacissima of our Synopsis Plantarum æquinoctialium Orbis Novi, t. i. p. 205. Saussure found butterflies on Mont Blanc, and Ramond observed them in the solitudes around the summit of Mont Perdu. When MM. Bonpland, Carlos Montufar, and myself, on the 23rd of June, 1802, ascended the eastern declivity of Mount Chimborazo, to a height of 19,286 feet, and where the barometer had fallen to 14·84 inches, we found winged insects buzzing around us. We recognised them to 233be Diptera, resembling flies, but it was impossible to catch these insects standing on the rocky ledges (cuchilla), often less than a foot in breadth, and between masses of snow precipitated from above. The elevation at which we observed these insects was almost the same as that in which the naked trachytic rock, which projected from the eternal snows around, exhibited the last traces of vegetation in Lecidea geographica. These insects were flying at an elevation of 18,225 feet, or nearly 2660 feet higher than the summit of Mont Blanc: and somewhat below this height, at an elevation of 16,626 feet, and therefore also above the region of snow, M. Bonpland saw yellow butterflies flying close to the ground. The mammalia which live nearest to the region of perpetual snow, are, in the Swiss Alps, the hybernating marmot, and a very small field-mouse, (Hypudæus nivalis,) described by Martius, which on the Faulhorn lays up, almost under the snow, a store of the roots of phanerogamic alpine plants.^[JC] The opinion prevalent in Europe, that the beautiful rodent, the Chinchilla, whose soft and glossy fur is so much esteemed, is found in the highest mountain regions of Chili, is an error. The Chinchilla laniger (Gray) lives only in a mild lower zone, and does not advance further south than the parallel of 35°.^[JD]

Whilst among our European Alps, Lecideas, Parmelias, and Umbilicarias but scantily clothe with a few coloured patches those rocks that are not wholly covered with snow, we found in the Andes, at elevations of 13,700 to nearly 15,000 feet, some phanerogamic plants which we were the first to describe; as for instance, the woolly species of Fraylejon. (Culcitium nivale, C. rufescens, and C. reflexum, Espeletia grandiflora, and E. argentea), Sida pichinchensis, Ranunculus nubigenus, R. Gusmanni with red or orange-coloured flowers, the small moss-like umbelliferous plant, Myrrhis andicola, and Fragosa arctioides. On the declivity of the Chimborazo, the Saxifraga Boussingaulti, described by Adolph Brongniart, grows beyond the limits of perpetual snow on loose blocks of stone at an elevation of 15,770 feet above the level of the sea, and not at 17,000 as has been stated in two admirable English 234journals.^[JE] This Saxifrage, discovered by Boussingault, must therefore be regarded as the highest growing phanerogamic plant in the world.

The vertical height of Chimborazo is, according to my measurement, 21,422 feet.^[JF] This result is a mean between those which have been given by the French and Spanish Academicians. The principal differences do not here depend on different assumptions for the refraction, but on a difference in reducing the measured line to the level of the sea. This reduction can only be made in the Andes by the barometer, and hence every so-called trigonometric measurement must also necessarily be a barometric one, whose result will vary according to the different formulæ employed. Owing to the enormous mass of the mountain chain, we can only obtain very small angles of altitude, when the greater portion of the whole height has to be measured trigonometrically, and the observation is made at some low and distant point near the plain or the level of the sea. It is on the other hand extremely difficult to obtain a convenient base line, as the space that is to be determined barometrically increases with every step we advance towards the mountain. These obstacles have to be encountered by every traveller who on the high table-lands, which surround the summit of the Andes, selects a spot for performing a geodetic operation. On the pumice-covered plain of Tapia, to the west of the Rio Chambo, at a height of 9477 feet, barometrically determined, I measured the Chimborazo. The Llanos de Luisa, and more especially the plain of Sisgun, whose elevation is 12,150 feet, would yield greater angles of altitude. I had on one occasion made every preparation necessary for the measurement of Mount Chimborazo, from the plain of Sisgun, when the summit of the mountain was suddenly shrouded in a dense cloud.

Some hypothetical suggestions, regarding the probable derivation of the name of the far-famed “Chimborazo,” may not be wholly unwelcome to etymologists. The district in which the mountain is situated is called Chimbo, a word which La 235Condamine^[JG] derives from chimpani, to cross a river. “Chimboraço” means, according to him, “the snow of the opposite bank,” from the fact of a brook being crossed at the village of Chimbo, in sight of the huge snow-covered mountain. (In the Quichua language chimpa signifies the opposite bank or side; chimpani to cross a river, bridge, &c.) Several natives of the province of Quito assured me that Chimborazo meant simply the snow of Chimbo. In Carguairazo we meet with the same termination, and it would appear that “razo” is a provincial word. The Jesuit Holguin, whose excellent vocabulary^[JH] I possess, is not acquainted with the word razo. The genuine term for snow is ritti. On the other hand, my friend, Professor Buschmann, an admirable linguist, remarks that in the Chinchaysuyo dialect, (employed north of Cuzco as far as Quito and Pasto) raju, the j being apparently guttural, signifies snow.^[JI] As chimpa and chimpani do not well suit on account of the a, we may seek a definite meaning for the first portion of the name of the mountain and of the village Chimbo, in the Quichua word “chimpu,” which is used to express a coloured thread or fringe (señal de lana, hilo ó borlilla de colores); the redness of the sky (arreboles), and the halo round the sun and moon. The name of the mountain might be thus derived from this word, without reference to the district or village. At all events, whatever may be the etymology of the word Chimborazo, it should be written in the Peruvian manner Chimporazo, as the Peruvians have no b in their alphabet.

May not the name of this colossal mountain be wholly independent of the Inca language, and have come down from a bygone age? The Inca or Quichua language had not been introduced long prior to the Spanish invasion into the kingdom of Quito, where the now wholly extinct Puruay language had been previously used. The names of other mountains, as Pichincha, Ilinissa, and Cotopaxi, are wholly devoid of meaning in the language of the Incas, and are therefore undoubtedly 236of higher antiquity than the introduction of the worship of the sun, and of the court-language of the rulers of Cuzco. The names of mountains and rivers belong in all regions of the earth to the most ancient and authentic relics of languages; and my brother, Wilhelm von Humboldt, in his investigations into the former distribution of the Iberian races, has made ingenious use of these names. A singular and unexpected statement has recently been made,^[JJ] “that the Incas, Tupac Yupanqui, and Huayna Capac, were astonished on their first conquest of Quito, to find a dialect of their Quichua language in use among the natives.” Prescott, however, seems to regard this as a very bold assertion.^[JK]

If we could suppose the pass of St. Gothard, Mount Athos, or the Rigi, piled on the summit of the Chimborazo, we should have the elevation which is at present ascribed to the Dhawalagiri in the Himalaya. The geologist who regards the interior of our planet from a more general point of view, and to whom not the directions, but the relative heights of the rocky projections, which we designate mountain chains, appear but as phenomena of little importance, will not be astonished if at some future period mountain summits should be discovered between the Himalaya and the Altai, which should surpass in height those of Dhawalagiri and Djawahir as much as these exceed that of Chimborazo.^[JL] The great height to which the snow-line recedes in summer on the northern declivity of the Himalaya, owing to the heat radiated from the elevated plateaux in Central Asia, renders the mountain, notwithstanding that it is situated in 29 to 30½° north lat., as accessible as are the Peruvian Andes in the region of the tropics. Captain Gerard has moreover recently ascended the Tarhigang as high, if not 117 feet higher,^[JM] than I ascended the Chimborazo. Unfortunately, as I have elsewhere more fully shown, these mountain ascents, beyond the line of perpetual snow, however they may engage the curiosity of the public, are of very little scientific utility.

72. 237p. 210—“The Condor, that giant among vultures.”

I have elsewhere^[JN] given the natural history of the Condor, which before my travels had been variously misstated. The name is properly Cuntur in the Inca language; Mañque among the Araucanes in Chili; Sarcoramphus Condor according to Duméril. I sketched the head of this bird from life, of the natural size, and had my drawing engraved. Next to the Condor, the Lämmergeier of Switzerland, and the Falco destructor (Daud.), probably Linnæus’ Falco Harpyia, are the largest of all flying birds.

The region which may be regarded as the common resort of the Condor, begins at the elevation of Mount Etna. It embraces atmospheric strata which are from 10,000 to 19,000 feet above the level of the sea. Humming birds also, which in their summer flights advance as far as 61° north lat. on the western coast of America, and are on the other hand found in the Archipelago of the Tierra del Fuego, were seen by Von Tschudi in Puna at an elevation of 14,600 feet.^[JO] There is a pleasure in comparing the largest and the smallest of the feathered inhabitants of the air. The largest among the Condors found in the Cordilleras, near Quito, measure nearly 15 feet across the expanded wings, and the smaller ones 8½ feet. This size, and the visual angle at which the birds are seen vertically above one’s head, afford an idea of the enormous height to which the Condor soars in a clear sky. A visual angle of four minutes, for instance, would give a vertical elevation of 7330 feet. The cavern (Mackay) of Antisana, opposite the mountain of Chussulongo, and where we measured the birds soaring over the chain of the Andes, lies at an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet above the surface of the Pacific; the absolute height which the Condor reached must therefore be 23,273 feet, a height at which the barometer scarcely stands at 12·7 inches; but which, however, does not exceed that of the loftiest summit of the Himalaya. It is a remarkable physiological phenomenon that the same bird, which wheels for hours together through these highly rarefied regions, should be able suddenly, as for instance on the western declivity of the volcano of Pichincha, to descend to 238the sea-shore, and thus in the course of a few hours traverse, as it were, all climates. At heights of 23,000 feet and upwards the membranous air-sacs of the Condor must undergo a remarkable degree of inflation after being filled in lower regions of the atmosphere.

Ulloa, more than a hundred years ago, expressed his astonishment that the Vulture of the Andes could soar at heights where the pressure of the atmosphere was less than fifteen inches.^[JP] An opinion was at that time entertained, from the analogy of experiments made with the air-pump, that no animal could exist under this slight amount of atmospheric pressure. I have myself, as has already been mentioned, seen the barometer fall to 14·85 inches on the Chimborazo; and my friend, M. Gay-Lussac, breathed for a quarter of an hour an atmosphere in which the pressure was only 12·9 inches. It must be admitted that man, when wearied by muscular exertion, finds himself in a state of painful exhaustion at such elevations; but in the Condor, the respiratory process seems to be performed with equal facility under a pressure of 30 or of 13 inches. This bird probably raises itself voluntarily to a greater height from the surface of our earth than any other living creature. I use the expression “voluntarily,” since small insects and siliceous-shelled infusoria are frequently borne to greater elevations by a rising current of air. It is probable that the Condor flies even higher than the above calculations would appear to show. I remember observing near the Cotopaxi, in the pumice plain of Suniguaicu, at an elevation of 14,471 feet above the level of the sea, this bird soaring at such a height above my head that it appeared like a black speck. But what is the smallest angle under which faintly illumined objects can be distinguished? Their form (linear extension) exercises a great influence on the minimum of this angle. The transparency of the mountain air is so great under the equator, that in the province of Quito, as I have elsewhere stated, the white cloak (poncho) of a horseman may be distinguished with the naked eye at a horizontal distance of 89,664 feet, and therefore under an angle of thirteen seconds. It was my friend Bonpland whom we observed, from the pleasant country-seat of the Marques de Selvalegre, 239moving along a black rocky precipice on the volcano of Pichincha. Lightning conductors, being thin elongated objects, are visible, as Arago has observed, from the greatest distances and under the smallest angles.

The account I have given in my Monograph of the Condor (Zoologie, pp. 26–45) of the habits of this powerful bird in the mountain districts of Quito and Peru has been confirmed by a more recent traveller, Gay, who has explored the whole of Chili, and described it in his admirable work, Historia fisica y politica de Chile. This bird which, singularly enough, like the Lamas, Vicuñas, Alpacas and Guanacos, is not found beyond the equator in New Granada, penetrates as far south as the Straits of Magellan. In Chili, as in the elevated plateaux of Quito, the Condors, which usually live in pairs, or even alone, congregate in flocks for the purpose of attacking lambs and calves, or seizing on young Guanacos (Guanacillos). The havoc annually committed by the Condor among the herds of sheep, goats and cattle, as well as among the wild vicuñas, alpacas and guanacos of the chain of the Andes is very considerable. The Chilians assert that this bird when in captivity can endure hunger for forty days; when in a free state, however, its voracity is excessive, and it then, like the vulture, feeds by preference on carrion.

The mode of catching these birds, by an inclosure of palisades such as I have already described, is as successful in Chili as in Peru, for the bird after being rendered heavy from excess of food is obliged to run a short distance with half-extended wings before it can take flight. A dead ox which is already in an incipient state of decomposition, is strongly inclosed with palisades, within which narrow space the Condors throng together; being unable, as already observed, to fly on account of the excess of food which they have devoured, and impeded in their run by the palisades, these birds are either killed by the natives with clubs, or are caught alive by the lasso. The Condor was represented as a symbol of strength on the coinage of Chili immediately after the first declaration of political independence.^[JQ]

The different species of Gallinazos, which are much more considerable in point of numbers than the Condors, are also 240far more useful than the latter in the great economy of Nature for destroying and removing animal substances that are becoming decomposed, and thus purifying the atmosphere in the neighbourhood of human dwellings. In tropical America, I have sometimes seen seventy or eighty of these creatures collected round a dead ox; and I am able, as an eye-witness, to confirm the fact that has of late erroneously been called in question by ornithologists, that the appearance of one single king-vulture (who is not larger than the Gallinazos) is sufficient to put a whole assemblage of these birds to flight. No contest ever takes place; but the Gallinazos (two species of which, (Cathartes urubu and C. aura,) have been confounded together by an unfortunately fluctuating nomenclature) are intimidated by the sudden appearance and the courageous demeanour of the richly coloured “Sarcoramphus Papa.” As the ancient Egyptians protected the Percnopteri, which purified the atmosphere, so also the wanton destruction of Gallinazos is punished in Peru by a fine (multa) which, according to Gay, amounts in some cities to 300 piastres for every bird. It is a remarkable fact, that this species of vulture, as was already testified by Don Felix de Azara, if trained early, will so accustom themselves to the person who has reared them, that they will follow him on a journey for many miles, flying after his carriage across the Pampa.

73. p. 211—“Encloses their rotating bodies.”

Fontana, in his admirable treatise “on the poison of the viper,” vol. i. p. 62, mentions that he succeeded in restoring to animation, after two hours’ immersion in a drop of water, a wheel-animalcule which had lain in a dried and motionless condition for the space of two years and a half.^[JR]

The so-called reanimation of Rotifera has very recently again been made a subject of lively discussion, since observations have been conducted with more exactness and subjected to a stricter criticism. Baker affirmed that in 1771, he had revived paste-eels which Needham had given him in the year 1744! Franz Bauer saw his Vibrio tritici, which had lain four years in a dry state, move on being moistened. The 241remarkably careful and experienced observer, Doyère,^[JS] draws the following conclusions from his beautiful experiments: that Rotifera revive, i.e. pass from a motionless state to one of motion, after being exposed to a cold of 11°.2 Fahr., or to a heat of 113° Fahr.; that they preserve the property of reviving in dry sand up to a temperature of 159° Fahr.; but that they lose this property and remain immoveable if warmed in moist sand to 131° Fahr. only;^[JT] and that the possibility of this so-called revivification is not prevented by their being exposed to desiccation for twenty-eight days in barometric tubes, in vacuo, even should chloride of lime or sulphuric acid be employed.^[JU]

Doyère has also seen Rotifera slowly revive after being dried without sand, (desséchés à nu,) a fact which Spallanzani denies.^[JV] “Desiccation conducted in an ordinary temperature might be open to many objections which are not perhaps wholly obviated by the employment of a dry vacuum; but when we observe that the Tardigrades irrevocably perish in a temperature of 131° Fahr. if their tissues are permeated with water, whereas they can, when dried, support a temperature that may be estimated at 248° Fahr., we are disposed to admit that the sole condition required for animal revivification is the perfect integrity of organic structure and continuity.”

In like manner, the sporules, or germinating cells of cryptogamic plants, which Kunth compares to the propagation of certain phanerogamic plants by buds (bulbillæ), retain their power of germination in the highest temperature. According to the most recent experiments of Payen, the sporules of a small fungus (Oïdium aurantiacum), which invests the crumb of bread with a reddish feathery coating, do not even lose their vegetative powers by being exposed in closed tubes for half an hour to a temperature of 183° to 208° Fahr. before being strewn on fresh, unspoilt dough. May not the newly discovered and wonderful monad (Monas prodigiosa), which causes blood-like spots in mealy substances, have been mixed with this fungus?

242Ehrenberg, in his great work on Infusoria (p. 492–496), has given the most complete history of all the observations instituted on the so-called revivification of Rotifera. He believes, that notwithstanding all the means of desiccation employed, the organization-fluid still remains in the apparently dead animal. He contests the hypothesis of “latent life”; for death, he says, “is not life in a torpid state, but the absence of life.”

The hybernation or winter-sleep of both warm and coldblooded animals, as dormice, marmots, sand-martins (Hirundo riparia, according to Cuvier)^[JW], and of frogs and toads, affords us evidence of the diminution, if not of the complete suspension, of the organic functions. Frogs awakened from their winter-sleep by warmth, can remain eight times longer under water, without drowning, than frogs in the breeding season. It seems as if the respiratory functions of the lungs require a less degree of activity after the long suspension of their excitability. The circumstance of the sand-martin burying itself during the winter in marshes, is a phenomenon which, while it scarcely admits of a doubt, is the more remarkable, because in birds, the function of respiration is so extremely energetic, that, according to Lavoisier’s experiments, two sparrows in an ordinary condition will, in the same time, decompose as much atmospheric air as a Guinea-pig.^[JX] Winter-sleep is not supposed to be general to the whole species of these sand-martins, but only to some few individuals.^[JY]

As in the frigid zone deprivation of warmth produces winter-sleep in some animals, so in the torrid regions, within the tropics, an analogous phenomenon is manifested that has not hitherto been sufficiently regarded, and to which I have applied the term summer-sleep.^[JZ] Drought and a continuous high temperature act like the cold of winter in reducing excitability. Madagascar, excepting a very small portion of its southern extremity, lies within the tropics, and here, as was already observed by Bruguière, the hedgehog-like Tenrecs (Centeres, Illiger), one species of which (C. ecaudatus) 243was introduced into the Isle of France (20° 9′, latitude), sleep during excessive heat. The objection advanced by Desjardins, that the time of their sleep falls within the season of winter in the southern hemisphere, can scarcely be regarded as applicable in reference to a country, where the mean temperature of the coldest month is nearly 7° Fahr. above that of the hottest month in Paris; and this circumstance cannot therefore change the three months’ summer-sleep of the Tenrec in Madagascar and Port Louis (Isle of France) into actual hybernation.

In a similar manner, the Crocodile in the Llanos of Venezuela, the land and water Tortoises on the Orinoco, and the colossal Boa, and many of the smaller species of serpents, lie torpid and motionless in the hardened ground, throughout the hot and dry season of the year. The missionary Gilij relates, that the natives, in seeking the dormant Terekai (land-tortoises), which lie buried in dry mud to the depth of 16 or 17 inches, are often bitten by serpents suddenly awakened, and which had buried themselves with the tortoises. An admirable observer, Dr. Peters, who has only just returned from the eastern coast of Africa, writes to me as follows: “I could not obtain any certain information regarding the Tenrec during my short stay in Madagascar, but I am, on the other hand, well aware, that in the portion of eastern Africa where I spent several years, different species of tortoises (Pentonyx and Trionices) remain enclosed for months together, without food, in the parched and indurated ground, during the dry season of this tropical country. The Lepidosiren also remains motionless and coiled up in the hardened earth, from May to December, wherever the swamps have been dried up.”

We thus meet with an enfeeblement of certain vital functions in numerous and very different classes of animals, and, what is peculiarly striking, without the same phenomenon presenting itself in organisms nearly allied, and belonging to one and the same family. The northern glutton (Gulo), allied to the badger (Meles), does not, like the latter, sleep during the winter; whilst, according to Cuvier, “a Myoxus (Dormouse of Senegal, Myoxus Coupeii) which had probably never experienced a winter-sleep in its tropical home, fell into a state of hybernation at the beginning of winter, the first year it was 244brought to Europe.” This enfeeblement of the vital functions and vital activity passes through several gradations, according as it extends to the processes of nutrition, respiration and muscular movement, or induces a depression of the cerebral and nervous systems. The winter-sleep of the solitary bear and of the badger is not attended with rigidity, and hence the awakening of these animals is easy, and, as I frequently heard in Siberia, very dangerous to the hunters and country people. The recognition of the gradation and connection of these phenomena leads us to the so-called vita minima of the microscopic organisms, which occasionally fall in the Atlantic in showers of meteoric dust, and some of which have green ovaries and are engaged in a self-generating process. The apparent revivification of the Rotifera and of the siliceous-shelled Infusoria is only the renewal of long enfeebled vital functions—a condition of vitality never entirely extinguished, but merely revived by excitation. Physiological phenomena can only be comprehended by being traced through the entire series of analogous modifications.

74. p. 211—“Winged Insects.”

The fructification of diœcious plants was at one time principally ascribed to the agency of the wind. It has been shown by Kölreuter, and also with much ingenuity by Sprengel, that bees, wasps and numerous small winged insects, are the main agents in this process. I use the phrase “main agents”, since I cannot regard it as consonant to nature that fructification should be impossible without the intervention of these insects, as Willdenow has also fully shewn.^[KA] On the other hand dichogamy, sap-marks, (maculæ indicantes), coloured spots indicating the presence of honey-vessels, and fructification by insects, appear to be almost inseparable from one another.^[KB]

The statement often repeated since Spallanzani, that the diœcious common hemp (Cannabis sativa), which was introduced into Europe from Persia, bears ripe seeds without being in the neighbourhood of pollen-tubes, has been entirely refuted by more recent investigations. When seeds have been obtained, anthers in a rudimentary state have been found near the ovarium, and these may have been capable of yielding 245some grains of fructifying pollen. Such hermaphrodism is frequent in the whole family of Urticeæ, but a singular and hitherto unexplained phenomenon is manifested in the forcing-houses at Kew by a small New Holland shrub, the Cœlebogyne of Smith. This phanerogamic plant brings forth seeds in England without exhibiting any trace of male organs, and without the bastard introduction of the pollen of any other plant. “A species of Euphorbiaceæ,” (?) writes the distinguished botanist, Jussieu, “the Cœlebogyne, which, although but recently described, has been cultivated for many years in English conservatories, has several times borne seeds, which were evidently perfect, since the well-formed embryos they contained have produced similar plants. The most careful observations have hitherto failed in discovering the slightest trace of anthers or even pollen in the flowers, which are diœcious. No male plants of this kind are known to exist in England. The embryo cannot therefore have come from the pollen, which is wholly deficient, but must have been formed entirely in the ovule.”^[KC]

In order to obtain a fresh and confirmatory explanation of this important and isolated physiological phenomenon, I lately addressed myself to my young friend, Dr. Joseph Hooker, who after having accompanied Sir James Ross in his Antarctic voyage, has now joined the great Thibeto-Himalayan expedition. Dr. Hooker wrote to me as follows from Alexandria, at the close of December, 1847, prior to his embarkation at Suez: “Our Cœlebogyne still flowers with my father at Kew, as well as in the Gardens of the Horticultural Society. It ripens its seeds regularly. I have repeatedly examined it with care, but have never been able to discover a penetration of pollen utricles into the stigma, nor any traces of their presence in the latter or in the style. In my herbarium the male blossoms are in small catkins.”

75. p. 212—“Like luminous stars.”

The phosphorescence of the ocean is one of those splendid phenomena of nature which excite our admiration, even when we behold its recurrence every night for months together. The ocean is phosphorescent in all zones of the earth, but he who has not witnessed the phenomenon in the tropics, and 246especially in the Pacific, can form but a very imperfect idea of the majesty of this brilliant spectacle. The traveller on board a man-of-war, when ploughing the foaming waves before a fresh breeze, feels that he can scarcely satisfy himself with gazing on the spectacle presented by the circling waves. Wherever the ship’s side rises above the waves, bluish or reddish flames seem to flash lightning-like upwards from the keel. The appearance presented in the tropical seas on a dark night is indescribably glorious, when shoals of dolphins are seen sporting around, and cutting the foaming waves in long and circling lines, gleaming with bright and sparkling light. In the Gulf of Cariaco, between Cumana and the Peninsula of Maniquarez, I have spent hours in enjoying this spectacle.

Le Gentil and the elder Forster ascribed these flames to the electrical friction of the water on the vessel as it glides forward—an explanation that must, in the present condition of our physical knowledge, be regarded as untenable.^[KD]

There are probably few subjects of natural investigation which have excited so many and such long-continued contentions as the phosphorescence of sea-water. All that is known with certainty regarding this much disputed question may be reduced to the following simple facts. There are many luminous mollusca which possess the property when alive of emitting at will a faint phosphoric light; which is of a bluish tinge in Nereis noctiluca, Medusa pelagica var. β,^[KE] and in the pipe-like Monophora noctiluca, discovered in Baudin’s expedition.^[KF] The luminosity of sea-water is in part owing to living light-bearing animals, and in part to the organic fibres and membranes of the same, when in a state of decomposition. The first-named of these causes of the phosphorescence of the ocean is undoubtedly the most common and the most widely diffused. The more actively and the more efficiently that travellers engaged in the study 247of nature have learnt to employ powerful microscopes, the more our zoological systems have been enriched by new groups of mollusca and infusoria, whose property of emitting light either at will or from external stimulus has been recognised.

The luminosity of the sea, as far as it depends on living organisms, is principally owing, among zoophytes, to the Acalephæ (the families of Medusæ and Cyaneæ), to some Mollusca, and to an innumerable host of Infusoria. Among the small Acalephæ (Sea-nettles), the Mammaria scintillans presents us, as it were, with the glorious image of the starry firmament reflected in the surface of the sea. When full-grown this little creature scarcely equals in size the head of a pin. The existence of siliceous-shelled luminous infusoria was first shown by Michaelis at Kiel. He observed the coruscation of the Peridinium. (a ciliated animalcule,) of the Cuirass-monad (Prorocentrum micans), and of a rotifer, which he named Synchata baltica,^[KG] the same that Focke subsequently found in the lagoons of Venice. My distinguished friend and fellow traveller in Siberia, Ehrenberg, succeeded in keeping two luminous Infusoria of the Baltic alive for nearly two months at Berlin. I examined them with him in 1832; and saw them coruscate in a drop of sea-water on the darkened field of the microscope. When these luminous Infusoria (the largest of which was only ⅛ and the smallest from ¹⁄₄₈ to ¹⁄₉₆ of a of a Parisian line in length) were exhausted, and ceased to emit sparks, they would renew their flashing on being stimulated by the addition of acids or by the application of a little alcohol to the sea-water.

By repeatedly filtering fresh sea-water, Ehrenberg succeeded in procuring a fluid in which a large number of these light-emitting animalcules were accumulated.^[KH] This acute observer has found in the organs of the Photocharis which give off flashes of light (either voluntarily or when stimulated), a cellular structure of a gelatinous character in the interior, and which manifests some similarity with the electric organ of the Gymnotus and the Torpedo. “When the Photocharis is irritated, in each cirrus a kindling and a gleaming of separate sparks may be observed, which gradually increase and at length illuminate the 248whole cirrus; until the living flame runs also over the back of this nereid-like animalcule, making it appear under the microscope like a burning thread of sulphur with a greenish-yellow light. In the Oceania (Thaumanthias) hemisphærica, the number and position of the sparks correspond accurately, at the thickened base, with the larger cirri or organs which alternate with them, a circumstance that merits special attention. The manifestation of this wreath of fire is an act of vitality, and the whole development of light an organic vital process, which exhibits itself in Infusorial animals as a momentary spark of light, and is repeated after short intervals of rest.”^[KI]

The luminous animals of the ocean appear, from these conjectures, to prove the existence of a magneto-electric light-generating vital process in other classes of animals besides fishes, insects, mollusca, and acalephæ. Is the secretion of the luminous fluid which is effused in some animalcules, and which continues to shine for a long period without further influence of the living organism (as, for instance, in Lampyrides and Elaterides, in the German and Italian glow-worms, and in the South American Cucuyo of the sugar-cane), merely the consequence of the first electric discharge, or is it simply dependent on chemical composition? The luminosity of insects surrounded by air assuredly depends on physiological causes different from those which give rise to a luminous condition in aquatic animals, fishes, Medusæ, and Infusoria. The small Infusoria of the ocean, being surrounded by strata of salt-water which constitutes a powerful conducting medium, must be capable of an enormous electric tension of their flashing organs to enable them to shine so vividly in the water. They strike like the Torpedo, the Gymnotus, and the Electric Silurus of the Nile, through the stratum of water: whilst electric fishes which, in connection with the galvanic circuit, are capable of decomposing water, and of imparting magnetic power to steel needles. (as I showed more than half a century ago,^[KJ] and as John Davy has more recently confirmed,^[KK]) yield 249no indications of electricity through the smallest intervening stratum of flame.

The considerations which we have here developed render it probable that one and the same process operates, alike in the smallest living organisms invisible to the naked eye, in the contests of the serpent-like Gymnoti, in the flashing luminous Infusoria which impart such glorious brilliancy to the phosphorescence of the sea, in the thunder-cloud and in the terrestrial or polar light (the silent magnetic flashes), which, caused by an increased tension of the interior of the earth, are announced, for some hours previously, by the sudden variations of the magnetic needle.^[KL]

Sometimes one cannot, even with high magnifying powers, discover any animalcules in the luminous water; and yet, wherever a wave breaks in foam against a hard body, and, indeed, wherever water is violently agitated, flashes of light become visible. The cause of this phenomenon depends probably on the decomposing fibres of dead Mollusca, which are diffused in the greatest abundance throughout the water. If this luminous water be filtered through finely woven cloths, the fibres and membranes appear like separate luminous points. When we bathed at Cumana, in the gulf of Cariaco, and walked naked on the solitary beach in the beautiful evening air, parts of our bodies remained luminous from the bright fibres and organic membranes which adhered to the skin, nor did they lose this light for some minutes. If we consider the enormous quantity of Mollusca which animate all tropical seas, we can hardly wonder that sea-water should be luminous, even where no fibres can be visibly separated from it. From the endless subdivision of the masses of dead Dagysæ and Medusæ the whole ocean may, in fact, be regarded as a fluid containing gelatine, and, as such, luminous and of a nauseous taste; unfit for the use of man, but capable of affording nourishment to many species of fish. On rubbing a board with a portion of the Medusa hysocella, the surface thus rubbed recovers its phosphorescence when friction is applied by means of the dry finger. During my voyage to South America I occasionally placed a Medusa on a tin plate, and I then observed that if I struck the plate with another metallic 250substance the slightest vibrations of the tin were sufficient to cause the animal to emit light. How do the blow and the vibrations here act? Is the temperature momentarily augmented, or are new surfaces presented? or, again, does some gaseous matter such as phosphuretted hydrogen, exude in consequence of this impulse, and burn when it comes in contact with the oxygen of the atmosphere, or with that dissolved in the sea-water, and by which the respiration of the Mollusca is maintained? This light-exciting effect of the blow is most remarkable in a cross or sugar-loaf sea, (mer clapoteuse,) where the waves, clashing from opposite directions, rise in a conical form.

I have seen the ocean, in the tropics, luminous in the most opposite kinds of weather, but most strongly so before a storm, or in a sultry and hazy atmosphere with thick clouds. Heat and cold appear to exercise but little influence on this phenomenon, for, on the Bank of Newfoundland, the phosphorescence is frequently very brilliant in the severest winter. Occasionally, too, the sea will be highly luminous one night, and not at all so on the following, notwithstanding an apparent identity of external conditions. Does the atmosphere favour this development of light? or do all the differences observed during this phenomenon depend on the accidental circumstance of the sea being more or less impregnated, in some parts, with the gelatinous portions of mollusca? Perhaps these phosphorescent social animalcules only rise to the surface under certain conditions of the atmosphere. It has been asked, why our fresh-water swamps which are filled with polyps are not phosphorescent. It would appear that, both in animals and plants, a peculiar mixture of organic particles favours this development of light; thus, for instance, the wood of the willow is more frequently found to be luminous than that of the oak. In England, salt-water has been rendered luminous by mixing herring-brine with it; indeed, it will be easy for any one to convince himself by galvanic experiments, that the luminosity of living animals depends on nervous irritation. I have observed strong phosphorescence emitted from a dying Elater noctilucus, on touching the ganglion of its fore leg with zinc and silver. Medusæ also occasionally emit a stronger light at the moment the galvanic circuit is completed.^[KM]

76. 251p. 213—“Which inhabits the lungs of the Rattlesnake of the tropics.”

The animal which I formerly named an Echinorhynchus, and to which I even applied the term Porocephalus, appears, on a closer inspection, according to Rudolphi’s better grounded opinion, to belong to the division of Pentastoma.^[KN] It is found in the abdominal cavity and the wide-celled lungs of a species of Crotalus, which, in Cumana, occasionally infests even the interior of houses, and preys on mice. The Ascaris lumbrici^[KO] lives beneath the skin of the common earth-worm, and is the smallest of all the species of Ascaris. Leucophra nodulata, Gleichen’s pearl animalcule, has been observed by Otto Friedrich Müller in the interior of the reddish Nais littoralis.^[KP] It is probable that these microscopic animals are, in their turn, inhabited by others. All are surrounded by air, deficient in oxygen, and copiously charged with hydrogen and carbonic acid. It is extremely doubtful whether any animal could exist in pure nitrogen, although such an opinion did, formerly indeed, seem warranted with reference to Fischer’s Cistidicola farionis, since, according to Fourcroy’s experiments, the swimming-bladder of fish was presumed to contain air wholly devoid of oxygen. But the experiments made by Erman, and confirmed by myself, prove that the swimming-bladder of fresh-water fish never contains pure nitrogen.^[KQ] In sea fish as much as 0·80 parts of oxygen have been found, while, according to Biot’s views, the purity of the air depends on the depth at which the fishes live.^[KR]

77. p. 214—“The united Lithophytes.”

According to Linnæus and Ellis the calcareous Zoophytes, (among which Madrepores, Meandrinæ, Astrææ, and Pocilloporæ 252especially produce mural coral-reefs,) are inhabited and invested by animalcules, which were long supposed to be allied to the Nereids belonging to Cuvier’s Annelida (jointed worms). The anatomy of these gelatinous animalcules has been made known by the acute and comprehensive researches of Cavolini, Savigny, and Ehrenberg. We have learned that, in order to understand the whole organism of the (so-called) rock-building animals, we must not consider the scaffolding which remains after their death, namely, the layers of lime formed into delicate lamellæ by a vital function of secretion, as foreign to the soft membranes of the food-receiving animal.

Besides our increased knowledge of the wonderful formation of the living coral-stocks, a more correct view has gradually gained ground respecting the extensive influence which the coral world has exercised on the appearance of low island groups above the level of the sea, on the migration of land-plants, and the successive extension of the domain of the Floras, and, indeed, in some parts of the ocean, on the distribution of the human race and of languages.

As minute social organisms the corals play an important part in the general economy of nature, although they do not, as people began to believe after Capt. Cook’s voyages of discovery, build up islands or enlarge continents from almost unfathomable depths of the ocean. They excite the liveliest interest, whether regarded as physiological objects, and as illustrating the various gradations of animal form, or in connection with the geography of plants, and the geognostic relations of the earth’s crust. According to the comprehensive views of Leopold von Buch, the whole Jura-formation consists of “large elevated coral-banks of the ancient world, surrounding at a certain distance the old mountain chains.”

According to Ehrenberg’s classification,^[KS] coral-animals, (in English works often incorrectly termed coral-insects,) are separable into the monostomous Anthozoa, which are either free and with the power of detaching themselves, as Animal-corals; or are attached in the manner of plants, as Phyto-corals. To the first order (Zoocorallia) belong the Hydras or Armpolyps of Trembley, the Actiniæ, radiant with the most 253splendid colours, and the mushroom-corals; and to the second order belong the Madrepores, the Astrææ, and the Ocellinæ. The Polyps of the second order are those which from their cellular, wave-resisting, wall-works are the principal subject of this illustration. The wall-work is composed of the aggregate of the coral-trunks, which, however, do not suddenly lose their combined vitality, like a dead forest tree.

Every coral-trunk arises by a process of gemmation in accordance with certain laws, and forms one complete structure, each portion being formed by a great number of organically distinct individual animals. In the group of Phyto-corals these cannot separate themselves spontaneously, but remain united with one another by lamellæ of carbonate of lime. Hence each coral-trunk by no means possesses a central point of common vitality.^[KT] The propagation of coral-animals, according to the difference of the orders, is by eggs, spontaneous division or gemmation. This last kind of propagation presents the greatest variety of forms in the development of individuals.

The Coral-reefs (or, as Dioscorides designates them, sea-plants, a forest of stony-trees, Lithodendra), are of three kinds; namely, Coast-reefs, (shore-reefs, fringing-reefs), which are directly connected with continental or insular coasts, as on the north-east coast of New Holland, between Sandy Cape and the dreaded Torres Straits, and almost all the coral-banks of the Red Sea examined for eighteen months by Ehrenberg and Hemprich; Island-surrounding reefs (barrier-reefs, encircling-reefs), as at Vanikoro in the small archipelago of Santa Cruz, north of the New Hebrides, and at Puynipete, one of the Carolinas; and Coral-banks surrounding lagoons (Atolls or Lagoon-islands). This very natural division and nomenclature have been introduced by Charles Darwin, and are most intimately connected with the very ingenious explanation which this intellectual naturalist has given of the gradual origin of these wonderful forms. While, on the one hand, Cavolini, Ehrenberg, and Savigny have completed the scientific anatomical knowledge of the organization of coral-animals, on the other, the geographical and geological relations of coral-islands have been investigated, first by Reinhold and George Forster in Cook’s second voyage, and then, after a long 254interval, by Chamisso, Péron, Quoy and Gaimard, Flinders, Lütke, Beechey, Darwin, d’Urville, and Lottin.

The coral-animals and their stony cellular scaffoldings belong, for the most part, to the warm tropical seas; and the reefs occur most frequently in the Southern Hemisphere. Thus we find the Atolls or Lagoon Islands crowded together in the so-called coral-sea between the north-east coast of New Holland, New Caledonia, Solomon’s Islands, and the Louisiade Archipelago; in the group of the Low Islands (Low Archipelago), eighty in number; in the Fidji, Ellice, and Gilbert Islands; and in the Indian Ocean, north-east of Madagascar, under the name of the Atoll group of Saya de Malha.

The great Chagos Bank, whose structure and dead coral-trunks have been thoroughly investigated by Captains Moresby and Powell, is the more interesting to us, because we may regard it as a prolongation of the more northern Laccadive and Maldive Islands. I have previously directed attention in another work^[KU] to the importance of the order of succession of the Atolls, which are exactly in the direction of a meridian as far as 7° south lat., in reference to the general mountain system, and the form of the earth’s surface, in Central Asia. The meridian-chains, which mark the intersection of many mountain-systems running from east to west at the great bend of the Thibetian river Tzang-bo, correspond with the great meridian mountain rampart of the Ghauts and of the more northern Bolor in further or trans-Gangetic India. Here lie the parallel chains of Cochin China, Siam, and Malacca, as well as those of Ava and Arracan, which, after courses of unequal length, all terminate in the gulfs of Siam, Martaban, and Bengal. The bay of Bengal appears like an arrested effort of nature to produce an inland sea. A deep inbreak of the waters, between the simple western system of the Ghauts, and the very complex eastern trans-Gangetic system, has swallowed up a great part of the eastern lowlands, but met with an impediment not so easily overcome in the early existing and extensive table-land of Mysore.

An oceanic inbreak of this nature has given rise to two almost pyramidal peninsulas of very different length and narrowness; and the prolongation of two opposing meridian systems, the mountain system of Malacca in the east, and the 255Ghauts of Malabar in the west, manifests itself in submarine, symmetrical series of islands, on the one side in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, which are poor in corals, and on the other in three long-extended archipelagos of Atolls—the Laccadives, the Maldives, and Chagos. The last, called by mariners the Chagos Bank, forms a lagoon, belted by a narrow, and already much broken coral-reef. The length of this lagoon is 88, and its breadth 72 miles. Whilst the enclosed lagoon is only from 17 to 40 fathoms deep, bottom was scarcely found at a depth of 210 fathoms at a small distance from the outer margin of the coral wall, which appears to be now sinking.^[KV] At the coral-lagoon, known as Keeling-Atoll, south of Sumatra, Captain Fitz-Roy states, that at only 2000 yards from the reef, no soundings were found with 7200 feet of line.

“The forms of coral, which in the Red Sea rise in thick wall-like masses, are Mæandrinæ, Astrææ, Favia, Madrepores (Porites), Pocillopora (Hemprichii), Millepores, and Heteropores. The latter are among the most massive, although they are branched. The deepest coral trunks, which magnified by the refraction of light, appear to the eye to resemble the dome of a cathedral, belong, as far as could be determined, to Mæandrinæ and Astrææ.”^[KW] A distinction must be made between single and in part free polyp-trunks, and those which form wall-like rocks.

If the accumulation of building polyp-trunks in some regions is so striking, it is no less astonishing to observe the perfect absence of these structures in other and often adjacent regions. Their presence or absence must be determined by certain, still uninvestigated, relations of currents, by the partial temperature of the water, and by the abundance or deficiency of nutriment. That certain delicate-branched corals, with less calcareous deposition on the side opposite to the mouth, prefer the stillness of the interior lagoons, is not to be denied; but this preference for still water must not, as has too often happened,^[KX] be regarded as a peculiarity of the whole class of these animals. According to the experiences of Ehrenberg and Chamisso in the Red Sea and in 256the Marshall Islands, which abound in Atolls and lie east of the Caroline Islands, and according to the observations of Captains Bird Allen and Moresby in the West Indies and in the Maldives, we find that living Madrepores, Millepores, Astræas, and Mæandrinas, can support “a tremendous surf;”^[KY] and indeed seem to prefer localities the most exposed to the action of storms. The vital forces of the organism regulating the cellular structure, which with age acquires a rocky hardness, resist most triumphantly the mechanical forces,—the shock of moving waters.

In the South Pacific there is a perfect absence of coral-reefs at the Galapagos and along the whole of the west coast of the New Continent, notwithstanding their vicinity to the numerous Atolls of the Low Islands, and the Archipelago of Mendaña or the Marquesas. It is true that the current of the South Pacific, which washes the coasts of Chili and Peru. (and whose low temperature I observed in the year 1802,) is only 60°.1 Fahr., while the undisturbed water at the sides of the cold current is from 81°.5 to 83°.7 Fahr. at Punta Parima, where it deflects to the west. Moreover at the Galapagos there are small currents between the islands, having a temperature of only 58°.3 Fahr. But this lower temperature does not prevail further northwards along the coasts of the Pacific from Guayaquil to Guatimala and Mexico, neither does it prevail in the Cape de Verd Islands, on the whole west coast of Africa, or at the small islands of St. Paul, St. Helena, Ascension, and San Fernando Noronha; yet in none of these are there coral-reefs.

If this absence of reefs characterises the western coasts of America, Africa, and New Holland, they are, on the other hand, of frequent occurrence on the eastern coasts of tropical America, on the African coast of Zanzibar, and on the southern coast of New South Wales. The best opportunities I have enjoyed for personally examining coral banks have been in the Gulf of Mexico, and south of the Island of Cuba, in the so-called “Gardens of the King and Queen” (Jardines y Jardinillos del Rey y de la Reyna). It was Christopher Columbus himself who, on his second voyage, in May, 1494, gave this name to this little group of islands, because from the pleasant association of the silver-leaved arborescent Tournefortia 257gnapholoides, of flowering species of Dolichos, of Avicennia nitida, and mangrove-thickets (Rhizophora), the coral-islands formed as it were an archipelago of floating gardens. “Son Cayos verdes y graciosos llenos de arboledas,” says the admiral. On my voyage from Batabano to Trinidad de Cuba, I remained for several days in these gardens, which lie to the east of the great Isle of Pines, abounding in mahogany, for the purpose of determining the longitude of the different Cayos.

The Cayos Flamenco, Bonito, de Diego Perez, and de Piedras, are coral islands, rising only from 8 to 15 inches above the level of the sea. The upper edge of the reef does not consist merely of dead polyp-trunks, but is rather formed of a true conglomerate, in which angular pieces of coral, lying in various directions, are embedded in a cement composed of granules of quartz. In Cayo de Piedras I saw such embedded masses of coral, some of them measuring upwards of three cubic feet. Several of the West Indian smaller coral islands have fresh water, a phenomenon which merits a careful investigation wherever it occurs (as for instance near Radak in the South Sea),^[KZ] since it has sometimes been ascribed to hydrostatic pressure, acting from a distant coast (as in Venice, and in the Bay of Xagua, east of Batabano), and sometimes to the filtration of rain-water.^[LA]

The living gelatinous covering of the calcareous fabric of the coral-trunks attracts fishes and even turtles in search of food. In the time of Columbus the now desolate district of the Jardines del Rey was animated by a singular branch of industry pursued by the inhabitants of the sea-coasts of Cuba, who availed themselves of a little fish, the Remora, or sucking-fish (the so-called Ship-holder), probably the Echeneis naucrates, for catching turtles. A long and strong line, made of the fibres of the palm, was attached to the tail of the fish. The Remora (called in Spanish Reves, or reversed, because at first sight the back and abdomen might easily be mistaken for each other), attaches itself by suction to the turtle through the indented and moveable cartilaginous plates of the upper shell that covers 258the head. The Remora, says Columbus, would rather let itself be torn to pieces than relinquish its prey, and the little fish and the turtle are thus drawn out of the water together. “Nostrates,” says Martin Anghiera, the learned secretary of Charles V, “piscem Reversum appellant, quod versus venatur. Non aliter ac nos canibus gallicis per æquora campi lepores insectamur, illi (incolæ Cubæ insulæ) venatorio pisce pisces alios capiebant.”^[LB] We learn from Dampier and Commerson, that this artifice of employing a sucking-fish to catch other fishes is very common on the eastern coasts of Africa, near Cape Natal and Mozambique, as well as on the island of Madagascar.^[LC] An acquaintance with the habits of animals, and the same necessities, lead to similar artifices and modes of capture amongst tribes having no connection with one another.

Although, as we have already remarked, the actual seat of the Lithophytes who build calcareous walls, lies within a zone extending from 22 to 24 degrees on either side of the equator, yet coral-reefs, favoured, it is supposed, by the warm Gulf Stream, are met with around the Bermudas in 32° 23′ lat., and these have been admirably described by Lieutenant Nelson.^[LD] In the southern hemisphere corals (Millepores and Cellepores) are found singly as far as Chiloe and even to the Chonos-Archipelago and Tierra del Fuego, in 53° lat., while Retepores have even been found as far as 72½° lat.

Since Captain Cook’s second voyage, the hypothesis advanced by him as well as by Reinhold and George Forster, that the flat coral islands of the South Pacific have been built up by living agents from the depths of the sea’s bottom, has found numerous advocates. The distinguished naturalists Quoy and Gaimard, who accompanied Captain Freycinet on his voyage of circumnavigation in the frigate “Uranie,” were the first who expressed themselves, in 1823, with much freedom against the views advanced by the two Forsters (father and son), by Flinders, and Péron.^[LE] “In directing the 259attention of naturalists to coral-animalcules,” they say, “we hope to be able to prove that all which has been hitherto affirmed or believed up to the present time, regarding the immense structures they are capable of raising, is for the most part inexact, and in all cases very greatly exaggerated. We are rather of opinion that coral-animalcules, instead of rearing perpendicular walls from the depths of the Ocean, only form strata or incrustrations of some few toises in thickness.” Quoy and Gaimard (p. 289) have also expressed an opinion, that Atolls (coral walls inclosing a lagoon) owe their origin to submarine volcanic craters. They have undoubtedly underrated the depth at which animals who construct coral-reefs (as for example the Astræa) can exist, as they place the extreme limits at from 26 to 32 feet below the level of the sea. Charles Darwin, a naturalist, who has known how to enhance the value of his own observations by a comparison with those of others in many parts of the world, places the region of living coral-animals at a depth of 20 or 30 fathoms,^[LF] which corresponds with that in which Professor Edward Forbes found the greatest number of corals in the Ægean Sea. This is Professor Forbes’s fourth region of marine-animals, as given in his ingenious memoir on the Provinces of Depth, and the geographical distribution of Mollusca at perpendicular distances from the surface.^[LG] It would appear, however, that the depth at which corals live is very different in the different species, especially in the more delicate ones which do not form such considerable structures.

Sir James Ross, in his Antarctic expedition, brought up corals from a great depth with the lead; and these he remitted for accurate examination to Mr. Stokes and Professor Forbes. Westward of Victoria Land, in the neighbourhood of the Coulman Island, in 72° 31′ south lat., and at a depth of 270 fathoms, Retepora cellulosa, a Hornera, and Prymnoa Rossii. (the latter very similar to a species common to the coasts of Norway,) were found alive and in a perfectly 260fresh condition.^[LH] In the far north too, the Greenland Umbellaria Grœnlandica has been brought up alive by whale fishers from a depth of 236 fathoms.^[LI] The same relation between species and locality is met with among sponges, which however are now regarded as belonging more to plants than to zoophytes. On the shores of Asia Minor, the common marine sponge is brought up from depths varying from 5 to 36 fathoms, although one very small species of the same genus is only found at a depth of at least 180 fathoms.^[LJ] It is difficult to divine what hinders the Astræas, Madrepores, Mæandrinas, and the whole group of tropical phyto-corals, which are capable of constructing large cellular calcareous walls, from living in very deep strata of water. The decrease of temperature is very gradual, the diminution of light nearly the same, and the existence of numerous Infusoria at great depths of the Ocean proves that there cannot here be any deficiency of food for polyps.

In opposition to the hitherto generally adopted opinion respecting the absence of all organisms and living creatures in the Dead Sea, it is worthy of notice that my friend and fellow-labourer, M. Valenciennes, has received, through the Marquis Charles de l’Escalopier, and through the French Consul Botta, beautiful specimens of Porites elongata from the Dead Sea. This fact is the more interesting, because this species is not found in the Mediterranean, but only in the Red Sea, which, according to Valenciennes, has but few organisms in common with the Mediterranean. As a sea-fish, a species of Pleuronectes, advances far into the interior of France, and accustoms itself to gill-respiration in fresh water, so also does a remarkable flexibility of organization exist in the above-mentioned coral-animal (Porites elongata of Lamarck), as the same species lives both in the Dead Sea, which is supersaturated with salt, and in the open ocean near the Séchelles Islands.^[LK]

According to the most recent chemical analyses of the younger 261Silliman, the genus Porites, like many other cellular coral-trunks (Madrepores, Astræas, and Mæandrinas of Ceylon and the Bermudas), contains besides from 92 to 95 per cent. of carbonate of lime and magnesia, a portion of fluorine and phosphoric acid.^[LL] The presence of fluorine in the hard skeleton of the polyps reminds us of the fluoride of calcium found in fish bones according to Morechini’s and Gay-Lussac’s experiments at Rome. Silex is mixed only in very small quantities, with the fluoride of calcium and phosphate of lime found in the coral-trunks; but one coral animal allied to the Horn corals (Gray’s Hyalonema, Glass thread) has an axis of fibres of pure silex, resembling a hanging tuft of hair. Professor Forchhammer, who has recently been engaged in a thorough analysis of sea-water in the most opposite parts of the earth’s surface, finds the quantity of lime in the Caribbean Sea remarkably small, it being only ²⁴⁷⁄₁₀₀₀₀, whilst in the Cattegat it amounts to ³⁷¹⁄₁₀₀₀₀. He is disposed to ascribe this difference to the numerous coral-banks near the West India Islands, which appropriate the lime to themselves, and thus exhaust the sea-water.^[LM]

Charles Darwin has with great ingenuity developed the genetic connection between shore-reefs, island-encircling reefs, and lagoon islands, i. e., narrow, annular coral banks which surround inner lagoons. According to his views, these three kinds of structure depend upon the oscillating condition of the bottom of the sea, or on periodical elevations and subsidences. The often-advanced hypothesis, according to which the lagoon-islands, or atolls, mark by their circularly enclosed coral-reefs, the outline of a submarine crater, raised on a volcanic crater-margin, is opposed by the great extent of their diameters, which are in some instances upwards of 30, 40, or even 60 miles. Our fire-emitting mountains have no such craters, and if we would compare the lagoon, with its submerged mural surface and narrow encircling reef, with one of the annular lunar mountains, we must not forget that these annular mountains are not volcanoes, but tracts of land 262enclosed by walls. According to Darwin, the following is the process of formation. An island mountain closely encircled by a coral reef subsides, while the fringing reef that had sunk with it, is constantly recovering its level owing to the tendency of the coral animals to regain the surface by renewed perpendicular structures; these constitute first a reef encircling the island at a distance, and subsequently, when the inclosed island has wholly subsided, an atoll. According to this view, which regards islands as the most prominent parts, or the culminating points of the submarine land, the relative position of the coral islands would disclose to us what we could scarcely hope to discover by the sounding line, viz., the former configuration and articulation of the land. This attractive subject (to the connection of which with the migrations of plants and the distribution of the races of men we drew attention at the beginning of this note), can only be fully elucidated when we shall succeed in acquiring further knowledge of the depth and nature of the different rocks which serve as a foundation for the lower strata of the dead polyp-trunks.

78. p. 216—“Of the Samothracian Traditions.”

Diodorus has preserved to us these remarkable traditions, the probability of which has invested them with almost historical certainty in the eyes of geologists. The island of Samothrace, once also named Ethiopea, Dardania, and Leucania or Leucosia in the Scholiast of Apollonius Rhodius, the seat of the ancient mysteries of the Cabiri, was inhabited by the remnant of an aboriginal people, several words of whose vernacular language were preserved in later times in sacrificial ceremonies. The position of Samothrace, opposite to the Thracian Hebrus, and near the Dardanelles, explains why a more circumstantial tradition of the great catastrophe of an outburst of the waters of the Pontus (Euxine) should have been especially preserved in this island. Sacred rites were here performed at altars erected on the supposed limits of this inundation; and among the Samothracians, as well as the Bœetians, a belief in the periodical destruction of the human race (a belief which also prevailed among the Mexicans in their myth of the four destructions of the world) was associated with 263historical recollections of individual inundations.^[LN] According to Diodorus, the Samothracians related that the Black Sea had been an inland lake, which, swelled by the influx of rivers (long prior to the inundations which had occurred among other nations) had burst, first through the straits of the Bosphorus, and subsequently through those of the Hellespont.^[LO] These ancient revolutions of nature have been considered in a special treatise, by Dureau de la Malle, and all the facts known regarding them collected by Carl von Hoff, in an important work on the subject.^[LP] The Samothracian traditions seem reflected as it were in the Sluice-theory of Strato of Lampsacus, according to which the swelling of the waters in the Euxine first formed the passage of the Dardanelles, and next the opening through the Pillars of Hercules. Strabo, in the first book of his Geography, has preserved among the critical extracts from the works of Eratosthenes, a remarkable fragment of the lost work of Strato, which presents views that embrace almost the whole circumference of the Mediterranean.

“Strato of Lampsacus,” says Strabo,^[LQ] “enters more fully than the Lydian Xanthus (who has described the impressions of shells far from the sea) into a consideration of the causes of these phenomena. He maintains, that the Euxine had formerly no outlet at Byzantium, but that the pressure of the swollen mass of waters caused by the influx of rivers had opened a passage, whereupon the water rushed into the Propontis and the Hellespont. The same thing also happened to our sea (the Mediterranean), for here too a passage was opened through the isthmus at the Pillars of Hercules, in consequence of the filling of the sea by currents, which in flowing off left the former swampy banks uncovered and dry. In proof of this, Strato affirms, first, that the outer and inner bottoms of the sea are different; then that there is still a bank running under the sea from Europe to Lybia, which shows that the inner and outer sea were formerly not united; next that the Euxine is extremely shallow, while the Cretan, 264the Sicilian and the Sardinian seas are, on the contrary, very deep; the cause of this being that the former is filled with mud from the numerous large rivers flowing into it from the north. Hence too the Euxine is the freshest, and the streams flowing from it are directed towards the parts where the bottom is deepest. It would also appear that if these rivers continue to flow into the Euxine, it will some day be completely choked with mud, for even now, its left side is becoming marshy in the direction of Salmydessus (the Thracian Apollonia), at the part called by mariners ‘The Breasts,’ before the mouth of the Ister and the desert of Scythia. Perhaps, therefore, the Lybian Temple of Ammon may also have once stood on the sea-shore, its present position in the interior of the country being in consequence of such off-flowings of rivers. Strato also conjectures that the fame and celebrity of the Oracle (of Ammon) is more easily accounted for, on the supposition that the temple was on the sea-shore, since its great distance from the coast would otherwise make its present distinction and fame inexplicable. Egypt also was in ancient times overflowed by the sea as far as the marshes of Pelusium, Mount Casius, and Lake Serbonis; for whenever in digging it happened that salt-water was met with, the borings passed through strata of sea-sand and shells, as if the country had been inundated, and the whole district around Mount Casius and Gerrha had been a marshy sea, continuous with the Gulf of the Red Sea. When the sea (the Mediterranean) retreated, the country was uncovered, leaving, however, the present Lake Serbonis. Subsequently the waters of this lake also flowed off, converting its bed into a swamp. In like manner the banks of Lake Mœris resemble more the shores of a sea than those of a river.” An erroneous reading introduced as an emendation by Grosskurd, in consequence of a passage in Strabo,^[LR] gives in place of Mœris, “the Lake Halmyris,” but the latter was situated near the southern mouth of the Danube.

The Sluice-theory of Strato led Eratosthenes of Cyrene (the most celebrated in the series of the librarians of Alexandria) to investigate the problem of the uniformity of level in all external seas flowing round continents, although with less success than Archimedes in his treatise on floating 265bodies.^[LS] The articulation of the northern coasts of the Mediterranean as well as the form of its peninsulas and islands had given origin to the geognostic myth of the ancient land of Lyctonia. The origin of the lesser Syrtis, of the Triton Lake,^[LT] and of the whole of Western Atlas,^[LU] had been embodied in an imaginary scheme of fire-eruptions and earthquakes.^[LV] I have recently entered more fully into this question,^[LW] in a passage with which I would be allowed to close this note:

“The northern shore of the Mediterranean possesses the advantage of being more richly and variously articulated than the southern or Lybian shore, and this was, according to Strabo, already noticed by Eratosthenes. Here we find three peninsulas, the Iberian, the Italian, and the Hellenic, which, owing to their various and deeply indented contour, form, together with the neighbouring islands and the opposite coasts, many straits and isthmuses. Such a configuration of continents and of islands that have been partly severed and partly upheaved by volcanic agency in rows, as if over far-extending fissures, early led to geognostic views regarding eruptions, terrestrial revolutions, and outpourings of the swollen higher seas into those below them. The Euxine, the Dardanelles, the Straits of Gades, and the Mediterranean with its numerous islands, were well fitted to originate such a system of sluices. The Orphic Argonaut, who probably lived in the Christian era, has interwoven old mythical narrations in his composition. He sings of the division of the ancient Lyctonia into separate islands, ‘when the dark-haired Poseidon in anger with Father Kronion struck Lyctonia with the golden trident.’ Similar fancies, which may often certainly have sprung from an imperfect knowledge of geographical relations, were frequently elaborated in the erudite Alexandrian school, which was so devoted to everything connected with antiquity. Whether the myth of the breaking up of Atlantis be a vague and western reflection of that of 266Lyctonia, as I have elsewhere shown to be probable, or whether, according to Otfried Müller, ‘the destruction of Lyctonia (Leuconia) refers to the Samothracian tradition of a great flood, which changed the form of that district,’ is a question which it is here unnecessary to decide.”

79. p. 217—“Precipitation from the clouds.”

The vertical ascent of currents of air is one of the principal causes of the most important meteorological phenomena. Where a desert or a sandy surface devoid of vegetation is surrounded by a high mountain-chain, the sea-wind may be observed driving a dense cloud over the desert, without any precipitation of vapour taking place before it reaches the crest of the mountains. This phenomenon was formerly very unsatisfactorily referred to an attraction supposed to be exercised by the mountain-chain on the clouds. The true cause appears to lie in the ascent from the sandy plain of a column of warm air, which prevents the condensation of the vesicles of vapour. The more barren the surface, and the greater the degree of heat acquired by the sand, the higher will be the ascent of the clouds, and the less readily will the vapour be precipitated. Over the declivities of mountains these causes cease. The play of the vertical column of air is there weaker; the clouds sink, and their disintegration is effected by a cooler stratum of air. Thus deficiency of rain and absence of vegetation in the desert stand in a reciprocal action to one another. It does not rain because the barren and bare surface of sand becomes more strongly heated and radiates more heat; and the desert is not converted into a steppe or grassy plain because without water no organic development is possible.

80. p. 218—“The indurating and heat-emitting mass of the earth.”

If according to the hypothesis of the Neptunists (now long since obsolete), the so-called primitive rocks were also precipitated from a fluid, the transition of the earth’s crust from a condition of fluidity to one of solidity, must have been followed by the liberation of an enormous quantity of caloric, which would have given rise to new evaporation and new precipitations. The more recent these precipitations, the 267more rapid, the more tumultuous, and the more uncrystalline would they have been. Such a sudden liberation of caloric from the indurating crust of the earth, independent of the latitude, and the position of the earth’s axis, might indeed occasion local elevations of temperature in the atmosphere, which would influence the distribution of plants. The same cause might also occasion a kind of porosity which seems to be indicated by many enigmatical geological phenomena in floetz rocks. I have developed my conjectures on this subject in detail in a small memoir on primitive porosity.^[LX] According to the views I have more recently adopted, it appears to me that the variously shattered and fissured earth, with its fused interior, may long have continued in the primeval period, to impart to its oxidised surface a high degree of temperature, independent of its position with respect to the sun and to latitude. What an influence would not, for instance, be exercised for ages to come on the climate of Germany by an open fissure a thousand fathoms in depth, extending from the Adriatic Gulf to the northern coast? Although in the present condition of the earth, long-continued radiation has almost entirely restored the stable equilibrium of temperature first calculated by Fourier in his Théorie analytique de la Chaleur, and the outer atmosphere is now only brought into direct communication with the molten interior of the earth, by means of the insignificant openings of a few volcanoes; yet in the primitive condition of our planet, this interior emitted hot streams of air into the atmosphere through the various clefts and fissures formed by the frequently recurring foldings (or corrugations) of the mountain strata. This emission was wholly independent of latitude. Every newly formed planet must thus in its earliest condition have regulated its own temperature, which was, however, subsequently changed and determined by its position in relation to the central body, the sun. The moon’s surface also exhibits traces of this reaction of the interior upon the crust.

81. p. 218—“The mountain-declivities of the most southern parts of Mexico.”

The spherical greenstone in the mountain district of Guanaxuato 268is perfectly similar to that of the Fichtelberg in Franconia. Both form grotesque domes, which break through and are superimposed on transition argillaceous schists. In the same manner pearl-stone, porphyritic schist, trachyte, and pitch-stone porphyry present analogous forms in the Mexican mountains, near Cinapecuaro and Moran, in Hungary, Bohemia, and in Northern Asia.

82. p. 220—“The Colossal Dragon-tree of Orotava.”

This colossal dragon-tree (Dracæna draco) stands in the garden of M. Franqui, in the little town of Orotava, called formerly Taoro, one of the most charming spots in the world. In June, 1799, when we ascended the Peak of Teneriffe, we found that this enormous tree measured 48 feet in circumference. Our measurement was made at several feet above the root. Nearer to the ground Le Dru found it nearly 79 feet. Sir G. Staunton asserts that at an elevation of ten feet from the ground, its diameter is still 12 feet. The height of the tree is not much more than 69 feet. According to tradition it would appear that this tree was venerated by the Guanches (as was the ash-tree of Ephesus by the Greeks, the Plantain of Lydia, which Xerxes decorated with ornaments, also the sacred Banyan-tree of Ceylon), and that in the year 1402, which was the period of Béthencourt’s first expedition, it was as large and as hollow as in the present day. When it is remembered that the dragon-tree is everywhere of very slow growth, we may conclude that the one at Orotava is of extreme antiquity. Berthollet says, in his description of Teneriffe, “On comparing the young dragon-trees which grows near this colossal tree, the calculations we are led to make on the age of the latter strike the mind with astonishment.”^[LY] The Dragon-tree has been cultivated from the most ancient times in the Canary isles, in Madeira, and Porto Santo, and that accurate observer, Leopold von Buch, found it growing wild near Iguesti in Teneriffe. Its original habitat is not therefore the East Indies, as has long been believed; and its appearance does not afford any refutation of the opinion of those who regard the Guanches as a wholly isolated primitive Atlantic race, having no intercourse 269with African or Asiatic nations: The form of the Dracænæ is repeated on the southern extremity of Africa, in the Isle of Bourbon, in China, and in New Zealand. In these remotely distant regions we recognise species of the same genus, but none are to be found in the New Continent, where this form is supplied by the Yucca. The Dracæna borealis of Aiton is a true Convallaria, the nature of both being perfectly identical.^[LZ]

I have given a representation, in the last plate of the Picturesque Atlas of my American journey,^[MA] of the dragon-tree of Orotava, taken from a drawing made in 1776 by F. d’Ozonne, and which I found among the posthumous papers of the celebrated Borda, in the still unprinted journal entrusted to me by the Dépôt de la Marine, and from which I have borrowed important astronomically-determined geographical, data besides many barometrical and trigonometrical notices.^[MB] The measurement of the dragon-tree in the Villa Franqui was made in Borda’s first voyage with Pingré in 1771, and not in the second, made 1776 with Varela. It is asserted, that in the fifteenth century, during the early periods of the Norman and Spanish conquests, mass was performed at a small altar erected in the hollow trunk of this tree. Unfortunately, the Dracæna of Orotava lost one side of its leafy top in the storm of the 21st of July, 1819. There is a fine large English copper-plate engraving, which gives an exceedingly true representation of the present condition of the tree.

The monumental character of these colossal living forms, and the impression of reverence which they have created among all nations, have led, in modern times, to a more careful study of the numerical determination of their age, and of the size of their trunks. The results of such investigations induced the elder Decandolle, (the author of the important treatise, entitled De la Longévité des Arbres,) Endlicher, Unger, and other distinguished botanists to conjecture, that the age of many existing vegetable forms may extend to the earliest historical times, if not to the records of the Nile, at least to those of Greece and Italy. In the Bibliothèque Universelle 270de Genève (t. xlvii. 1831, p. 50) we find the following passage: “Numerous examples seem to confirm the idea, that there still exist, on our planet, trees of a prodigious antiquity—the witnesses, perhaps, of one or more of its latest physical revolutions. If we consider a tree as the combination of as many individual forms as there have been buds developed on its surface, one cannot be surprised if the aggregate resulting from the continual addition of new buds to the older ones, should not necessarily have any fixed termination to its existence.” In the same manner, Agardh says: “If in each solar year new parts be formed in the plant, and the older hardened ones be replaced by new parts capable of conducting sap, we have a type of growth limited by external causes alone.” He ascribes the short duration of the life of herbaceous plants, “to the preponderance of the production of blossoms and fruit over the formation of leaves.” Unfruitfulness in a plant insures a prolongation of its life. Endlicher adduces the instance of an individual plant of Medicago sativa, var. β versicolor, which lived eighty years because it bore no fruit.^[MC]

To the dragon-trees, which, notwithstanding the gigantic development of their closed vascular bundles, must be classed, in respect to their floral parts, in the same natural family as Asparagus and the garden onion, belongs the Adansonia, (the monkey bread-tree, Baobab), undoubtedly among the largest and most ancient inhabitants of our planet. In the earliest voyages of discovery made by Catalans and Portuguese, the sailors were accustomed to carve their names on these two species of trees; not always from a mere wish of perpetuating their memory, but also as “marcos,” or signs of possession, and of the rights which nations assume in virtue of first discovery. The Portuguese mariners often selected for carving on the trees, as a “marco,” or mark of possession, the elegant French motto talent de bien faire, so frequently employed by the Infante Don Henrique, the Discoverer. Thus Manuel de Faria y Sousa says expressly;^[MD] “Era uso de los primeros Navegantes de dexar inscrito el motto del Infante, talent de bien faire, en la corteza de los arboles.”^[ME] (It was the custom 271of the early navigators to inscribe the motto of the Infante in the bark of the trees.)

The above-named motto, cut on the bark of two trees by Portuguese navigators in the year 1435, and therefore twenty-eight years before the death of the Infante Don Henrique, Duke of Viseo, is singularly connected, in the history of discoveries, with the discussions that have arisen from a comparison of Vespucci’s fourth voyage with that of Gonzalo Coelho (1503). Vespucci relates, that the Admiral’s ship of Coelho’s squadron was wrecked on an island which was sometimes supposed to be that of San Fernando Noronha; sometimes, Peñedo de San Pedro; and sometimes, the problematical island of St. Matthew. The last-named island was discovered on the 15th of October, 1525, by Garcia Jofre de Loaysa in 2½ south lat., in the meridian of Cape Palmas, and almost in the Gulf of Guinea. He remained there eighteen days at anchor, and found crosses, orange-trees that had become wild, and two trunks of trees having inscriptions that bore the date of ninety years back.^[MF] I have in another place,^[MG] in an inquiry regarding the trustworthiness of Amerigo Vespucci, more fully considered this problem.

The oldest description of the Baobab (Adansonia digitata) is that of the Venetian, Aloysius Cadamosto. (whose real name was Alvise da Ca da Mosto) in 1454. He found at the mouth of the Senegal. (where he joined Antoniotto Usodimare), trunks, whose circumference he estimated at 17 fathoms, or 112 feet.^[MH] He might have compared them to dragon-trees, which he had already seen. Perrottet says,^[MI] that he had seen monkey-bread fruit trees, which had a diameter of about thirty-two feet, with a height of only from seventy to eighty-five feet. The same dimensions had been given by Adanson in his voyage, 1748. The largest trunks of the monkey bread-fruit trees, which he himself saw, in 1749, some on one of the small Magdalena islands near Cape de Verd, and others at the mouth of the Senegal, were from 26 to nearly 29 feet in diameter, with a height of little more than 70 feet, and a top measuring upwards of 180 feet across. 272Adanson, however, makes the remark that other travellers had found trunks having a diameter of about 32 feet.^[MJ] French and Dutch sailors had carved their names on the trunks in characters six inches in length. One of these inscriptions was of the fifteenth century,^[MK] while all the others were of the sixteenth. From the depth of the cuts, which are covered with new layers of wood,^[ML] and from a comparison of the thickness of trunks, whose various ages were known, Adanson computed the age of trees having a diameter of 32 feet at 5150 years.^[MM] He however cautiously subjoins the following remarks, in a quaint mode of spelling which I do not alter: “le calcul de l’aje de chake couche n’a pas d’exactitude géometrike.” In the village of Grand Galarques, also in Senegambia, the negroes have adorned the entrance of a hollow Baobab with carvings cut out of wood still green. The inner cavity serves as a place of general meeting in which the community debate on their interests. This hall reminds us of the hollow (specus) in the interior of a plantain in Lycia, in which the Roman ex-consul, Lucinius Mutianus, entertained twenty-one guests. Pliny (xii. 3) gives to a cavity of this kind the somewhat ample breadth of eighty Roman feet. The Baobab was seen by René Caillié in the valley of the Niger near Jenne, by Cailliaud in Nubia, and by Wilhelm Peters along the whole eastern coast of Africa, where this tree, which is called Mulapa, i.e. Nlapa-tree, or more correctly muti-nlapa, advances as far as Lourenzo Marques, almost to 26° south lat. The oldest and thickest trunks seen by Peters “measured from 60 to 75 feet in circumference.” Although Cadamosto observed, in the fifteenth century, eminentia non quadrat magnitudini; and although Golberry^[MN] found, in the “Vallée des deux Gagnacks,” trunks only 27364 feet in height whose diameter was 36 feet, this disproportion between thickness and height must not be assumed to be general. “Very old trees,” says the learned traveller, Peters, “lose their crowns by gradual decay, while they continue to increase in circumference. On the eastern coast of Africa one not unfrequently meets with trees having a diameter of more than 10 feet which reach the height of nearly 70 feet.”

While therefore the bold calculations of Adanson and Perrottet assign to the Adansonias measured by them, an age of 5150 or even 6000 years, which would make them coeval with the builders of the Pyramids, or even with Menes, and would place them in an epoch when the Southern Cross was still visible in Northern Germany;^[MO] the more certain estimations yielded by annular rings, and by the relation found to exist between the thickness of the layer of wood and the duration of growth, give us, on the other hand, shorter periods for our temperate northern zone. Decandolle finds that of all European species of trees, the yew attains the greatest age; and according to his calculations, 30 centuries must be assigned as the age of the Taxus baccata of Braburn in Kent, from 25 to 26 to the Scotch yew of Fortingal, and 14½ and 12 respectively to those of Crowhurst in Surrey and Ripon (Fountains Abbey) in Yorkshire.^[MP] Endlicher remarks that “another yew-tree in the churchyard of Grasford, North Wales, which measures more than 50 feet in girth below the branches, is more than 1400 years old, whilst one in Derbyshire is estimated at 2096 years. In Lithuania linden trees have been felled which measured 87 feet round, and in which 815 annular rings have been counted.”^[MQ] In the temperate zone of the southern hemisphere some species of the Eucalyptus attain an enormous girth, and as they at the same time attain a height of nearly 250 feet, they afford a singular contrast to our yew trees, which are colossal only in thickness. Mr. Backhouse found in Emu Bay, on the shore of Van Diemen’s Land, 274Eucalyptus trunks which, with a circumference of 70 feet at the base, measured as much as 50 feet at a little more than 5 feet from the ground.^[MR]

It was not Malpighi, as has been generally asserted, but the intellectual Michel Montaigne, who had the merit of first showing, in 1581, in his Voyage en Italie, the relation that exists between the annual rings and the age of the tree.^[MS] An intelligent artisan, engaged in the preparation of astronomical instruments, first drew Montaigne’s attention to the significance of the annual rings, asserting that the part of the trunk directed towards the north had narrower rings. Jean Jacques Rousseau entertained the same opinion; and his Emile, when he loses himself in the forest, is made to direct his course in accordance with the deposition of the layers of wood. Recent phyto-anatomical observations^[MT] teach us, however, that the acceleration of vegetation as well as the remission of growth, and the varying production of the circles of the ligneous bundles (annual deposits) from the cambium cells, depend on other influences than position with respect to the quarter of the heavens.

Trees which in the case of some examples attain a diameter of more than 20 feet, and an age of many centuries, belong to very different natural families. We may here instance Baobabs, Dragon trees, various species of Eucalyptus, Taxodium distichum. (Rich.,) Pinus Lambertiana. (Douglasii,) Hymenæa Courbaril, Cæsalpinieæ, Bombax, Swietenia Mahagoni, the Banyan tree (Ficus religiosa), Liriodendron tulipifera(?), Platanus orientalis, and our Lindens, Oaks, and Yews. The celebrated Taxodium distichon, the Ahuahuete of the Mexicans (Cupressus disticha, Linn., Schubertia disticha, Mirbel), of Santa Maria del Tule, in the State of Oaxaca, has not a diameter of 60 feet, as stated by Decandolle, but exactly 40½ feet.^[MU] The two beautiful Ahuahuetes which I have frequently seen at Chapoltepec (growing in what was probably once a garden or pleasure ground of Montezuma) measure, according to the instructive account in Burkardt’s 275travels (bd. i. s. 268) only 36 and 38 feet in circumference, and not in diameter, as has often been erroneously maintained. The Buddhists of Ceylon venerate the colossal trunk of the sacred fig-tree of Anurahdepura. The Banyan, which takes root by its branches, often attains a thickness of 30 feet, and forms, as Onesicritus truly expresses himself, a leafy roof resembling a many-pillared tent.^[MV] On the Bombax Ceiba see early notices from the time of Columbus in Bembo.^[MW]

Among those oak trees which have been very accurately measured, the largest in Europe is undoubtedly the one near Saintes on the road to Cozes, in the Department de la Charente inférieure. This tree, which has an elevation of 64 feet, measures very nearly 30 feet in diameter near the ground, while 5 feet higher up it is nearly 23 feet, and where the main branches begin more than 6 feet. A little room, from 10 feet 8 inches to 12 feet 9 inches in width and 9 feet 7 inches in height, has been cleared in the dead part of the trunk, and a semi-circular bench cut within it from the green wood. A window gives light to the interior, and hence the walls of this little room, which is closed by a door, are gracefully clothed with ferns and lichens. From the size of a small piece of wood that had been cut out over the door, and in which two hundred ligneous rings were counted, the age of the oak of Saintes must be estimated at 1800 or 2000 years.^[MX]

With respect to the rose-tree (Rosa canina) reputed to be a thousand years old, which grows in the crypt of the Cathedral of Hildesheim, I learn from accurate information, based on authentic records, for which I am indebted to the kindness of the Stadtgerichts-Assessor Römer, that the main stem only has an age of eight hundred years. A legend connects this rose-tree with a vow of the first founder of the cathedral, Louis the Pious; and a document of the eleventh century says, “that when Bishop Hezilo rebuilt the cathedral, which had been burnt down, he enclosed the roots of the rose-tree within a vault still 276remaining, raised on the latter the walls of the crypt, which was re-consecrated in 1061, and spread the branches of the rose-tree over its sides.” The stem, still living, is nearly 27 feet in height, and only 2 inches thick, and spreads across a width of 82 feet over the outer wall of the eastern crypt. It is undoubtedly of very considerable antiquity, and well worthy of the renown it has so long enjoyed throughout Germany.

If excessive size, in point of organic development, may in general be regarded as a proof of a long protraction of life, special attention is due, among the thalassophytes of the submarine vegetable world, to a species of fucus, Macrocystis pyrifera, Agardh (Fucus giganteus). This marine plant attains, according to Captain Cook and George Forster, a length of 360 feet, and exceeds therefore the height of the loftiest Coniferous trees, not excepting Sequoia gigantea, Endl. (Taxodium sempervirens, Hook, and Arnott) of California.^[MY] Captain Fitz-Roy has confirmed this statement.^[MZ] Macrocystis pyrifera grows from 64° south lat. to 45° north lat., as far as the Bay of San Francisco on the north-west coast of the New Continent; indeed Joseph Hooker believes that this species of Fucus advances as far as Kamtschatka. In the waters of the Antarctic seas it is even seen floating between the pack-ice.^[NA] The cellular band and thread-like structures of the Macrocystis (which are attached to the bottom of the sea by an adhesive organ resembling a claw) seem to be limited in their length by accidental disturbing causes alone.

83. p. 220—“Phanerogamic plants already recorded in herbariums.”

Three questions must be carefully distinguished from one another: 1. How many species of plants have been described in printed works? 2. How many of those discovered—that is to say included in herbariums—still remain undescribed? 3. How many species probably exist on the surface of the earth? Murray’s edition of the Linnæan system contains, including cryptogamic plants, only 10,042 species. Willdenow, in his edition of the Species Plantarum from 1797 to 2771807, has described as many as 17,457 species of phanerogamia, reckoning from Monandria to Polygamia diœcia. If to these we add 3000 species of cryptogamic plants, we shall bring the number as given by Willdenow to 20,000. More recent investigations have shown how far this estimate of the species described, and of those preserved in herbariums, falls short of the truth. Robert Brown^[NB] first enumerated above 37,000 phanerogamia, and I at that time attempted to describe the distribution of 44,000 species of phanerogamic and cryptogamic plants, over the different portions of the world already explored.^[NC] Decandolle finds, on comparing Persoon’s Enchiridium with his Universal System divided into twelve families, that more than 56,000 species of plants may be enumerated from the writings of botanists and European herbariums.^[ND] If we consider how many new species have been described by travellers since that time, (my expedition alone afforded 3600 of the 5800 collected species of equinoctial plants), and if we bear in mind that there are assuredly upwards of 25,000 phanerogamic plants, cultivated in all the different botanical gardens, we shall soon see how much Decandolle’s estimate is below the truth. From our complete ignorance of the interior of South America (Mato-Grosso, Paraguay, the eastern declivity of the Andes, Santa-Cruz de la Sierra, and all the countries lying between the Orinoco, the Rio Negro, the Amazon, and Puruz), of Africa, of Madagascar, and Borneo, and of Central and Eastern Asia, the idea involuntarily presents itself to the mind that we are not yet acquainted with one third, or probably even with one fifth part of the plants existing on the earth. Drège has collected 7092 phanerogamic species in Southern Africa alone; and he believes that the flora of that region consists of more than 11,000 phanerogamic species, seeing that in Germany and Switzerland, on an equal area (192,000 square miles,) Koch has described only 3300, and Decandolle only 3645 phanerogamia in France. I would here also instance the new genera, consisting partly of high forest trees, which are still being discovered in the neighbourhood of large commercial towns in the lesser Antilles, although they have been visited by Europeans for the last three hundred years. Such considerations, 278which I purpose developing more fully at the close of this illustration, seem to verify the ancient myth of the Zend-Avesta, that “the creating primeval force called forth 120,000 vegetable forms from the sacred blood of the bull.”

If therefore no direct scientific solution can be afforded to the question, how many vegetable forms—leafless cryptogamia (water algæ, fungi, and lichens), characeæ, liverworts, foliaceous mosses, marsilaceæ, lycopodiaceæ, and ferns—exist on the dry land, and in the wide basin of the sea, in the present condition of the organic terrestrial life of our planet, it only remains for us to employ an approximative method for ascertaining with some degree of probability certain “extreme limits” (numerical data of minima). Since the year 1815, I have, in my arithmetical considerations on the geography of plants, calculated the numbers expressing the ratio which the aggregate of species of different natural families bears to the whole mass of the phanerogamia in those countries where the latter is sufficiently determined. Robert Brown,^[NE] the greatest botanist of our age, had, prior to my researches, already determined the numerical proportion of the principal divisions of vegetable forms, as for instance of acotyledons (Agamæ, cryptogamic or cellular plants) to cotyledons (Phanerogamia, or vascular plants), and of monocotyledons (Endogenæ) to dicotyledons (Exogenæ). He finds the ratio of monocotyledons to dicotyledons in the tropical zone as in the proportion of 1 to 5, and in the frigid zone, in the parallels of 60° north, and 55° south lat. as 1 to 2½.^[NF] The absolute numbers of the species are compared together in the three great divisions of the vegetable kingdom, according to the method developed in Brown’s work. I was the first who passed from these principal divisions to the individual families, and considered the number of the species contained in each, in their ratio to the whole mass of phanerogamia belonging to one zone.^[NG]

279The numerical relations of the forms of plants, and the laws observed in their geographical distribution, admit of being considered from two very different points of view. When we study plants in their arrangement according to natural families, without regard to their geographical distribution, the question arises: What are the fundamental forms or types of organization, in accordance with which the greater number of their species are formed? Are there more Glumaceæ than Compositæ on the earth’s surface? Do these two orders of plants combined, constitute one-fourth of the phanerogamia? What numerical relation do monocotyledons bear to dicotyledons? These are questions of general phytology, a science that investigates the organization of plants and their mutual connection, and therefore has reference to the now existing state of vegetation.

If, on the other hand, the species of plants that have been connected together according to their structural analogy, are considered not abstractedly, but in accordance with their climatic relations, and their distribution over the earth’s surface, these questions acquire a totally different interest. We then examine what families of plants predominate in the torrid zone more than towards the polar circle over other phanerogamia? We inquire, whether the Compositæ are more numerous in the new than in the old world, under equal geographical latitudes or between equal isothermal lines? Whether the forms which gradually lose their predominance in advancing from the equator to the poles, follow a similar law of decrease in ascending mountains situated in the equatorial region? Whether the relations of the different families to the whole mass of the phanerogamia differ under equal isothermal lines in the temperate zones on either side of the equator? These questions belong to the geography of plants properly so called, and are connected with the most important problems that can be presented by meteorology and terrestrial physics. Thus the predominance of certain families of plants determines the character of a landscape, and whether the aspect of the country is desolate or luxuriant, or smiling and majestic. Grasses, forming extended Savannahs, or the abundance of fruit-yielding palms, or social coniferous trees, have respectively exerted a powerful influence on the material condition, manners, and character of nations, and on the more or less rapid development of their prosperity.

280In studying the geographical distribution of forms, we may consider the species, genera, and natural families of plants separately. A single species, especially among social plants, frequently covers an extensive tract of land. Thus we have in the north, Pine or Fir forests, and Heaths (ericeta); in Spain, Cistus groves; and in tropical America, collections of one and the same species of Cactus, Croton, Brathys, or Bambusa Guadua. It is interesting to study more closely these relations of individual increase, and of organic development; and here we may inquire, what species produces the greatest number of individuals in one certain zone; or, merely what are the families to which the predominating species belong in different climates. In a very high northern latitude, where the Compositæ and the Ferns stand in the ratios of 1 : 13 and 1 : 25 to the sum of all the phanerogamia (i. e., where these ratios are found by dividing the sum total of all phanerogamia by the number of species included in the family of the Compositæ, or in that of the Ferns); one single species of Fern may, however, cover ten times more space than all the species of the Compositæ taken together. In this case the Ferns predominate over the Compositæ by their mass, and by the number of the individuals belonging to the same species of Pteris, or Polypodium; but they will not be found to predominate, if we only compare the number of the different specific forms of the Filices, and of the Compositæ, with the sum total of all Phanerogamia. As, therefore, multiplication of plants does not follow the same laws in all species, and as all do not produce an equal number of individuals, the quotients obtained by dividing the sum of all phanerogamic plants by the species of one family, do not alone determine the leading features impressed on the landscape, or the physiognomy of nature peculiar to different regions of the earth. If the attention of the travelling botanist be arrested by the frequent repetition of the same species, by its mass, and the uniformity of vegetation thus produced, it will be still more forcibly arrested by the infrequency of many other species useful to man. In tropical regions, where the Rubiaceæ, Myrtles, Leguminosæ, or Terebinthaceæ, compose the forests, one is astonished to meet with so few trees of Cinchona, or of certain species of mahogany (Swietenia), of Hæmatoxylon, Styrax, or balsamic Myroxylon. I would also here refer to the scanty and detached occurrence of the precious febrifuge-bark trees (species of Cinchona) 281which I had an opportunity of observing on the declivity of the elevated plains of Bogota and Popayan, and in the neighbourhood of Loxa, in descending towards the unhealthy valley of the Catamayo, and to the river Amazon. The febrifuge-bark hunters (Cazadores de Cascarilla), as those Indians and Mestizoes are called at Loxa, who each year collect the most efficacious of all the medicinal barks, the Cinchona Condaminea, among the lonely mountains of Caxanuma, Uritusinga, and Rumisitana, undergo considerable danger in climbing to the summits of the highest forest-trees, in order to obtain an extended view, from which they may distinguish the scattered, slender, and aspiring trunks of the Cinchona, by the reddish tint of their large leaves. The mean temperature of this important forest region (between 4° and 4½° south lat.) varies from 60° to 68° Fahr., at an absolute height of from 6400 to 8000 feet above the level of the sea.^[NH]

In considering the distribution of species, we may also, independently of individual multiplication and mass, compare together the absolute number which belong to each family. Such a mode of comparison, which was employed by Decandolle,^[NI] has been extended by Kunth to more than 3300 of the species of Compositæ with which we are at present acquainted. It does not show what family preponderates by individual mass, or by the number of its species, over other phanerogamic forms, but it simply indicates how many of the species of one and the same family are indigenous in any one country or portion of the earth. The results of this method are, on the whole, more exact, because they are obtained by a careful study of the separate families, without requiring that the whole number of the phanerogamia of every country should be known. Thus, for instance, the most varied forms of Ferns are found in the tropical zone, each genus presenting the greatest number of species in the temperate, humid, and shaded mountainous parts of islands. While these species are less numerous in passing from tropical regions to the temperate zone, their absolute number diminishes still more in approaching nearer to the poles. Although the frigid zone, as, for instance, Lapland, supports species of the families which are 282best able to resist the cold, Ferns predominate more over other phanerogamia in Lapland than either in France or Germany, notwithstanding the absolute inferiority of the gross number of ferns indigenous to the northern zone, when compared with other countries. These relations are, in France and Germany, as ¹⁄₇₃ and ¹⁄₇₁, while in Lapland they are as ¹⁄₂₅. These numerical relations (obtained by dividing the sum total of all the phanerogamia of the different floras by the species of each family) were published by me in 1817, in my Prolegomena de distributione geographica Plantarum, and corrected in accordance with the great works of Robert Brown, in my Essay on the Distribution of Plants over the earth’s surface, which I subsequently wrote in French. These relations, as we advance from the equator towards the poles, necessarily vary from the ratios obtained by a comparison of the absolute number of the different species belonging to each family. We often see the value of the fractions increase by the decrease of the denominator, whilst the absolute number of the species is reduced. In the fractional method which I have followed as the most applicable to questions relating to the geography of plants, there are two variable quantities; for in passing from one isothermal line to another, we do not find the sum total of the phanerogamia change in the same proportion as the number of the species of one particular family.

In proceeding from the consideration of these species to that of the divisions established in the natural system according to an ideal series of abstractions, we may direct our attention to genera or races, to families, or even to still higher classes of division. There are some genera, and even whole families, which exclusively belong to certain zones; not merely because they can only thrive under a special combination of climatic relations, but also because they first sprang up within very circumscribed localities, and have been checked in their migrations. The larger number of genera and families have, however, their representatives in all regions of the earth, and at all elevations. The earliest inquiries into the distribution of vegetable forms had reference to genera alone, and are to be found in the valuable work of Treviranus.^[NJ] This method is, however, less appropriate for yielding general results, than that which compares the number of the species of 283each family, or the great leading divisions (acotyledons, monocotyledons, and dicotyledons), with the sum total of the phanerogamia. In the frigid zone, the variety of forms, or the number of the genera, does not decrease in an equal degree with that of the species, there being in these regions relatively more genera and fewer species.^[NK] The case is almost the same on the summits of high mountain-chains, where are sheltered individual members of many different genera which one would be disposed to regard as belonging exclusively to the vegetation of the plain.

I have deemed it expedient to indicate the different points of view from which the laws of the distribution of vegetable forms may be considered. It is only when these points of view are confounded together, that we meet with contradictions, which have been unjustly attributed to uncertainty of observation.^[NL] When expressions like the following are employed: “This form, or this family diminishes as it approaches towards the cold zone,” or “the true habitat of this form is in such or such a parallel of latitude;” or “this is a southern form,” or, again, “it predominates in the temperate zone;” it should be definitely stated whether reference is made to the absolute number of the species, and the proportion of their predominance according to the increase or decrease of latitude; or whether the meaning conveyed is, that a family, when compared with the whole number of the phanerogamia of a flora, predominates over other families of plants. The impression conveyed to the mind of the predominance of forms, depends literally on the conception of relative quantity.

Terrestrial physics have their numerical elements as well as the cosmical system, and it is only by the united labours of botanical travellers that we can hope gradually to arrive at a knowledge of the laws which determine the geographical and climatic distribution of vegetable forms. I have already observed that in the temperate zone of the northern hemisphere, the Compositæ (Synanthereæ) and the Glumaceæ (in which latter division I place the three families of the Gramineæ, the Cyperoideæ, and the Juncaceæ) constitute the fourth part of all phanerogamia. The following numerical 284relations are the result of my investigations for seven great families of the vegetable kingdom in one and the same temperate zone:

The forms of organic beings are reciprocally dependent on one another. Such is the unity of nature, that these forms limit each other in obedience to laws which are probably connected with long periods of time. When we have ascertained the number of the species on any particular part of the earth’s surface belonging to one of the great families of the Glumaceæ, the Leguminosæ, or the Compositæ, we may with some degree of probability, form approximative conclusions regarding the number of all the phanerogamia, as well as of the species belonging to the other families of plants growing in the country. The number of the Cyperoideæ determines that of the Compositæ, and the number of the latter determines that of the Leguminosæ; and these estimates, moreover, enable us to ascertain in what classes and orders the Floras of a country are still incomplete, teaching us what harvests may still be reaped in the respective families, if we guard against confounding together very different systems of vegetation.

The comparison of the numerical proportions of families in the different zones which have as yet been well explored, has led me to a knowledge of the laws which determine the numerical increase or decrease of vegetable forms constituting a natural family, in proceeding from the equator to the poles, when compared, for instance, with the whole mass of phanerogamia peculiar to each zone. We must here have regard not only to the direction, but also to the rapidity or measure of the increase. We see the denominator of the fraction, which expresses the ratio, increase or diminish. Thus, for instance, the beautiful family of the Leguminosæ diminishes 285in proportion as it recedes from the equinoctial zone to the north pole. If we find its ratio for the torrid zone (from 0° to 10° of latitude) ⅒, we shall have for the part of the temperate zone (lying between 45° and 52°) ¹⁄₁₈, and for the frigid zone (between 67° and 70° lat.) only ¹⁄₃₅. The direction followed by the great family of the Leguminosæ (viz., increase towards the equator) is also that of the Rubiaceæ, the Euphorbiaceæ, and especially the Malvaceæ. On the other hand, the Gramineæ and the Juncaceæ (the latter more than the former), the Ericeæ, and Amentaceæ, diminish towards the torrid zone. The Compositæ, Labiatæ, Umbelliferæ, and Cruciferæ, diminish from the temperate zone towards the pole and the equator, and the two latter families most rapidly in the direction of the equatorial region; whilst in the temperate zone the Cruciferæ are three times more abundant in Europe than in the United States of North America. In Greenland the Labiatæ are reduced to only one species, and the Umbelliferæ to two, while the whole number of the phanerogamia still amounts, according to Hornemann, to 315 species.

It must at the same time be observed that the development of plants of different families, and the distribution of their forms, do not depend alone on the geographical, or even on the isothermal latitude; the quotients not being always equal on one and the same isothermal line in the temperate zone, as for instance in the plains of America and in those of the Old Continent. Within the tropics there is a very marked difference between America, the East Indies, and the western coast of Africa. The distribution of organic beings over the surface of the earth does not depend solely on the great complication of thermic and climatic relations, but also on geological causes which continue almost wholly unknown to us, since they have been produced by the original condition of the earth, and by catastrophes which have not affected all parts of our planet simultaneously. The large pachydermata are no longer found in the New Continent, while they still exist under analogous climates in Asia and Africa. These differences, instead of deterring us from the investigation of the laws of nature, should rather stimulate us to study them in all their intricate modifications.

The numerical laws of families, the frequently striking agreement between the ratios, where the species constituting 286these families are for the most part different, lead us into that mysterious obscurity which envelopes everything connected with the fixing of organic types in the different species of animals and plants, and with all that refers to formation and development. I will take as examples two neighbouring countries—France and Germany—which have both been long since explored. In France many species of Gramineæ, Umbelliferæ, Cruciferæ, Compositæ, Leguminosæ, and Labiatæ are wanting, which are some of the commonest in Germany, and yet the ratios of these six large families are almost identical in both countries. Their relations, which I here give, are as follows:

This correspondence in the number of species of one family compared to the whole mass of the phanerogamia of Germany and France would not exist, if the absent German species were not replaced in France by other types of the same families. Those who delight in conjectures respecting the gradual transformation of species, and who regard the different parrots, peculiar to islands situated near each other, as merely transformed species, will ascribe the remarkable uniformity presented by the above numerical ratios to a migration of the same species, which having been altered by climatic influences, continuing for thousands of years, appear to replace each other. But why have our common Heath, (Calluna vulgaris,) and our Oaks not penetrated to the east of the Ural Mountains, and passed from Europe to northern Asia? Why is there no species of the genus Rosa in the southern, and scarcely any Calceolaria in the northern hemisphere? These are points that cannot be explained by peculiarities of temperature. The present distribution of forms (fixed forms of organization) is no more explained by thermal relations alone, than by the 287hypothesis of migrations of plants radiating from certain central points. Thermal relations are scarcely sufficient to explain the phenomenon why certain species have fixed limits beyond which they cannot pass, either in the plains towards the pole, or in vertical elevation on the declivities of mountains. The cycle of vegetation of each species, however different may be its duration, requires a certain minimum of temperature to enable it to arrive at the full stage of its development.^[NM] But all the conditions necessary to the existence of a plant, either within its natural sphere of distribution or cultivation—such as geographical distance from the pole, and elevation of the locality—are rendered still more complicated by the difficulty of determining the beginning of the thermic cycle of vegetation; by the influence which the unequal distribution of the same quantity of heat among days and nights succeeding each other in groups, exerts on the irritability, the progressive development, and the whole vital process; and lastly, by the secondary influence of the hygrometric and electric relations of the atmosphere.

My investigations regarding the numerical laws of the distribution of vegetable forms may, perhaps, at some future time, be applied successfully to the different classes of vertebrate animals. The rich collections of the Muséum d’histoire naturelle in the Jardin des Plantes at Paris, contained in 1820, at a rough estimate, above 56,000 species of phanerogamic and cryptogamic plants in the herbariums, 44,000 insects (probably below the actual number, although they were thus given me by Latreille), 2500 species of fishes, 700 reptiles, 4000 birds, and 500 mammalia. Europe possesses about 80 mammalia, 400 birds, and 30 reptiles; there are, therefore, five times as many birds as mammalia in the northern temperate zone, (as there are in Europe five times as many Compositæ as Amentaceæ and Coniferæ, and five times as many Leguminosæ as Orchideæ and Euphorbiaceæ). In the southern temperate zone the ratio of the Mammalia bears a sufficiently striking accord with that of Birds, being as 1 : 4·3. Birds (and reptiles 288even to a greater extent), increase more than mammalia in advancing towards the torrid zone. We might be disposed to believe, from Cuvier’s investigations, that this ratio was different in the earlier age of our planet, and that the number of mammalia that perished by convulsions of nature was much greater than that of birds. Latreille has shown the different groups of insects that increase in advancing towards the pole, or towards the equator, and Illiger has indicated the native places of 3800 birds, according to the quarters of the globe;—a far less instructive method than if they had been given according to zones. We may easily comprehend how, on a given area, the individuals of one class of plants or animals may limit each other’s numbers, and how, after the long-continued contests and fluctuations engendered by the requirements of nourishment and mode of life, a condition of equilibrium may have been at length established; but the causes which have determined their typical varieties, and have circumscribed the sphere of the distribution of the forms themselves, no less than the number of individuals of each form, are shrouded in that impenetrable obscurity which still conceals from our view all that relates to the beginning of things and the first appearance of organic life.

If, therefore, as I have already observed at the beginning of this illustration, we attempt to give an approximative estimate of the numerical limit (“le nombre limite” of the French mathematicians), below which we cannot place the sum of all the phanerogamia on the surface of the earth; we shall find that the surest method will be by comparing the known ratios of the families of plants with the number of the species contained in our herbariums, or cultivated in large botanical gardens. As I have just remarked, the herbariums of the Jardin des Plantes at Paris were, in 1820, already estimated at 56,000 species. I will not hazard a conjecture as to the number that may be contained in the herbariums of England, but the great Paris herbarium, which Benjamin Delessert with the noblest disinterestedness has given up to free and general use, was estimated, at the time of his death, to contain 86,000 species, a number almost equal to that which Lindley, even in 1835,^[NN] regarded as the probable number of all the species existing “on the whole earth.” Few herbariums are numbered with 289care, according to a complete, severe, and methodical separation of the different varieties; while, moreover, we often find no inconsiderable number of plants wanting in the large so-called general herbariums, which are contained in some of the smaller ones. Dr. Klotzsch estimates the whole number of Phanerogamic plants in the Great Royal Herbarium at Schöneberg, near Berlin, of which he is curator, at 74,000 species.

Loudon’s useful work (Hortus britannicus) gives a general view of the species which now are or recently have been, cultivated in English gardens. The edition of 1832 enumerates, including indigenous plants, exactly 26,660 Phanerogamia. We must not confound with this large number of plants that either have been, or still are, cultivated in Great Britain, “all the living plants which may simultaneously be found in an individual botanic garden.” In this last respect the Botanic Garden of Berlin has long been regarded as one of the richest in Europe. The fame of its extraordinary riches rested formerly on a mere approximative estimate of its contents, and, as my old friend and fellow-labourer Professor Kunth, has very correctly remarked,^[NO] “it was only by the completion of a systematic catalogue, based on the most careful examination of the species, that an actual enumeration could be undertaken. This enumeration gave somewhat more than 14,060 species; and when we deduct from these 375 cultivated ferns, there remain 13,685 Phanerogamia, among which there are 1600 Composite, 1150 Leguminosæ, 428 Labiatæ, 370 Umbelliferæ, 460 Orchideæ, 60 Palms, and 600 Grasses and Cyperaceæ. If we compare with these numbers the number of species given in recent works, as, for instance, Compositæ (according to Decandolle and Walpers), at about 10,000, Leguminosæ 8070, Labiatæ (Bentham) 2190, Umbelliferæ 1620, Grasses 3544, and Cyperaceæ 2000,^[NP] we shall perceive that the Botanic Garden at Berlin cultivates only ⅐, ⅛, and ⅑ of the very large families (Compositæ, Leguminosæ, and Grasses), and as many as ⅕ and ¼ of the already described species belonging to the small families (Labiatæ and Umbelliferæ). If we estimate the number of all the different species 290of Phanerogamia simultaneously cultivated in all the botanical gardens of Europe at 20,000, we shall find, as they appear to constitute about the eighth part of those already described and contained in herbariums, that the whole number of Phanerogamia must amount to nearly 160,000. This estimate need not be regarded as too high, since scarcely the hundredth part of many of the larger families, as, for instance, Guttifereæ, Malpighiaceæ, Melastomeæ, Myrtaceæ, and Rubiaceæ, belong to our gardens.” If we take the number (26,660 species), given in Loudon’s “Hortus Britannicus,” as the basis, we shall find, from the well-grounded series of inferences drawn by Professor Kunth, and which I borrow from his manuscript notice above referred to, that the estimate of 160,000 will increase to 213,000 species; and even this is still very moderate, since Heynhold, in his “Nomenclator botanicus hortensis” (1846), estimates the species of Phanerogamia already cultivated at 35,600. On the whole, therefore,—and the conclusion is, at first sight, sufficiently striking,—the number of species of Phanerogamia at present known by cultivation in gardens, by descriptions, and in herbariums, is almost greater than that of known insects. According to the average estimates of several of the most distinguished entomologists, whose opinion I have been able to obtain, the number of insects at present described, or contained in collections without being described, may be stated as between 150,000 and 170,000 species. The rich collection at Berlin contains fully 90,000, among which there are about 32,000 beetles. Travellers have collected an immense quantity of plants in remote regions, without bringing with them the insects living upon them, or in the neighbourhood. If, however, we limit these numerical estimates to a definite portion of the earth’s surface that has been the best explored in regard to its plants and insects, as, for instance, Europe, we find the ratio between the vital forms of Phanerogamic plants and those of insects changed to such a degree, that while Europe counts scarcely 7000 or 8000 Phanerogamia, more than three times that number of European insects are at present known. According to the interesting contributions of my friend Dohrn in Stettin, more than 8700 insects have already been collected from the rich fauna of the neighbourhood, and yet there are still many MicroLepidoptera 291wanting; while the number of Phanerogamia found there scarcely exceeds 1000. The Insect-fauna of Great Britain is estimated at 11,600. Such a preponderance of animal forms will appear less surprising when we remember that several of the large classes of insects live only on animal substances, whilst others subsist on agamic plants (Fungi), and even on those which are subterranean. Bombyx Pini, the Pine Spider, the most destructive of all forest-insects, is infested, according to Ratzeburg, by no less than thirty-five parasitical Ichneumonidæ.

These considerations have led us to the proportion borne by the number of species growing in gardens to the gross number of those already described and preserved in herbariums; it now remains for us to consider the proportion of the latter to the conjectural number of species existing on the whole earth, or, in other words, to test their minimum by the relative numbers of the different families—i. e. by variable multipla. A test of this kind gives, however, such low results for the lower amount, as plainly to show that even in the large families, which appear to have been the most strikingly enriched in recent times by the researches of descriptive botanists, our knowledge is still limited to a very small portion of the treasure actually existing. The Repertorium of Walpers which completes Decandolle’s Prodromus of 1825 to 1846, gives 8068 species of the family of the Leguminosæ. We may assume the mean ratio to be ¹⁄₂₁; since it is ⅒ in the tropical zone, ¹⁄₁₈ in the middle temperate zone, and ¹⁄₃₃ in the cold northern zone. The described Leguminosæ would therefore only lead us to assume that there were 169,400 species of Phanerogamia existing on the earth, whereas the Compositæ, as already shewn, testify to the existence of more than 160,000 known Phanerogamia, i. e. such as have been described or are contained in herbariums. This discrepancy is instructive, and will be further elucidated by the following analogous considerations.

The larger number of the Compositæ, of which Linnæus knew only 785 species, and which have now increased to 12,000, appear to belong to the Old Continent. At least Decandolle described only 3590 American, while he estimated the European, Asiatic, and African species at 5093. This abundance of Compositæ in our vegetable 292systems is however deceptive, and only apparently considerable; for the quotient of this family (which within the tropical zone is ¹⁄₁₅, in the temperate zone ⅐, and in the frigid zone ¹⁄₁₃) shows that more species of Compositæ than of Leguminosæ have hitherto eluded the diligent research of travellers; for even when multiplied by 12 we only obtain the improbably small number of 144,000 for the sum total of the Phanerogamia! The families of the Grasses and of the Cyperaceæ give still lower results, because a proportionally smaller number of species have been described and collected. We need only cast a glance at the map of South America, and remember that the vast extent of country occupied by the grassy plains of Venezuela the Apure and the Meta, as well as to the south of the woody region of the Amazon, in Chaco, in Eastern Tucuman, and in the Pampas of Buenos Ayres and Patagonia, has either been very imperfectly or not at all explored in relation to botany. Northern and Central Asia present an almost equally extensive territory occupied by steppes; but here a larger proportion of dicotyledonous plants is intermixed with the Gramineæ. If we had sufficient grounds for believing that one-half of all the phanerogamic plants existing on the surface of the earth are known, and if we estimate this number at only 160,000 or at 213,000 known species; we must give to the family of grasses, whose general ratio appears to be ¹⁄₁₂, in the former case at least 26,000, and in the latter 35,000 different species, of which in the first case ⅛, and in the second ⅒ are known.

The following considerations oppose the hypothesis that we are already acquainted with half the Phanerogamia on the earth’s surface. Several thousand species of Monocotyledons and Dicotyledons, and among them lofty arborescent forms, have recently been discovered (I would remind the reader of my own expedition) in districts of a very large extent, which had already been explored by distinguished botanists. Yet that portion of the great continents which has never been visited by botanical observers far exceeds the extent of the parts even superficially traversed. The greatest variety of phanerogamic vegetation, i. e. the greatest number of species on an equal area, is to be met with in the tropical or subtropical zones. It is therefore the more important to bear in mind that we are almost wholly unacquainted, north of 293the equator, in the New Continent, with the floras of Oaxaca, Yucatan, Guatimala, Nicaragua, the Isthmus of Panama, the Choco, Antioquia, and the Province de los Pastos; while south of the equator, we are equally ignorant of the floras of the boundless forest-region between the Ucayale, the Rio de la Madura, and the Toncantin (three mighty tributaries of the Amazon), as well as of those of Paraguay and the Province de las Missiones. In Africa, we know nothing of the vegetation of the whole of the interior, between 15° north and 20° south lat.; and in Asia we are unacquainted with the floras of the south and south-east of Arabia, where the highlands rise to an elevation of 6400 feet; as also with the floras between the Thian-schan, the Kuen-Lün, and the Himalaya; those of Western China; and those of the great portion of the countries beyond the Ganges. Still more unknown to botanists are the interior portions of Borneo and New Guinea, and of some districts of Australia. Further to the south the number of the species decreases in a most remarkable manner, as Joseph Hooker has ably shown, from his own observation, in his Antarctic Flora. The three islands which constitute New Zealand extend from 34½° to 47¼° of latitude, and as they have besides snow-crowned mountains more than 8850 feet in height, they must exhibit considerable differences of climate. The most northern island has been explored with tolerable accuracy from the time of Banks and Solander’s voyage (with Capt. Cook), to the visits of Lesson, the brothers Cunningham, and Colenso; and yet in more than seventy years, the number of Phanerogamia with which we have become acquainted is below 700.^[NQ] This paucity of vegetable species corresponds with the paucity of animal forms. Dr. Joseph Hooker has observed that “Iceland, proverbially barren as it is, and upon which no tree, save a few stunted birches, is to be found, possesses five times as many flowering plants as Lord Auckland’s group and Campbell’s Islands together, although these are situated at from 8° to 10° nearer the equator in the southern hemisphere. The antarctic flora is at once characterised by uniformity and great luxuriance of vegetation, which is attributable to the influence exerted by an uninterruptedly cool and humid climate. In Southern Chili, Patagonia, and Tierra del 294Fuego (from 45° to 56° lat.) this uniformity is strikingly manifested on the mountains and their declivities no less than in the plains. How great is the difference of species when we compare the flora of the south of France, in the same latitude as the Chonos Islands off the coast of Chili, with the Scottish flora of Argyleshire, in the parallel of Cape Horn. In the southern hemisphere the same types of vegetation pass through many degrees of latitude. In the regions near the north pole ten flowering plants have been collected on Walden Island (80½° north lat.), while there is scarcely a solitary grass to be met with in the South Shetland Islands, although situated 63° south latitude.”^[NR] These considerations on the distribution of plants prove that the great mass of the still unobserved, uncollected, and undescribed phanerogamia belong to the tropical zone, and to the contiguous regions extending from twelve to fifteen degrees from it.

I have deemed it not unimportant to draw attention to the imperfect state of our knowledge in this slightly cultivated department of numerical botany, and to treat such questions in a more definite manner than has hitherto been possible. In all conjectures regarding relative numbers, we must first examine the practicability of obtaining the lowest limit; as in the question, of which I have treated elsewhere, regarding the ratio of the gold and silver coined to the quantity of the precious metals existing in a wrought state; or as in the question of how many stars, from the tenth to the twelfth magnitude, are scattered over the heavens, and how many of the smallest telescopic stars may be contained in the Milky Way?^[NS] It is an established fact, that if it were possible to ascertain completely by observation the number of species of the large phanerogamic families, we should at the same time obtain an approximate knowledge of the sum-total of all the phanerogamia on the surface of the earth (that is, the numbers included in every family). The more therefore we are enabled, by the progressive exploration of unknown districts, gradually to determine the number of species belonging to any one great family, the higher will be the gradual rise of the lowest limit, and the nearer we shall 295arrive at the solution of a great numerical vital problem, since the forms, in accordance with still unexplained laws of universal organism, reciprocally limit each other. But is the number of the organisms a constant number? Do not new vegetable forms spring from the ground after long intervals of time, whilst others become more and more rare, and finally disappear? Geology confirms the latter part of this question by means of the historical memorials of ancient terrestrial life. “In the primitive world,” to use the expression of the intellectual Link,^[NT] “elements remote from each other blend together in wondrous forms, indicating, as it were, a higher degree of development and articulation in a future period of the world.”

84. p. 222—“Whether the height of the aërial ocean and its pressure have always been the same.”

The pressure of the atmosphere has a decided influence on the form and life of plants. This life, owing to the fulness and abundance of the leafy organs provided with interstitial openings, is principally directed outwards. Plants mainly live in and through their surfaces, and hence their dependence on the surrounding medium. Animals are more dependant on internal stimuli; they generate and maintain their own temperature, deriving from muscular movements their electric currents, and the chemical vital processes which arise from and re-act upon those currents. A kind of cutaneous respiration constitutes an active vital function of plants, and depends, so far as it is an evaporation, inhalation, and exhalation of fluids, on atmospheric pressure. Hence Alpine plants are more aromatic and hirsute than others, and more amply provided with numerous exhalants.^[NU] Zoonomic experiments teach us, as I have shown in another work, that organs are more abundant and more perfectly developed in proportion to the facility with which their functional requirements are fulfilled. The disturbance occasioned in the respiration of their external integuments, by increased barometric pressure, renders it, as I have elsewhere shewn, very difficult for Alpine plants to thrive in the plain.

296Whether the aërial ocean surrounding the earth has always exerted the same mean pressure is a question wholly undecided. We do not even know for certain whether the mean barometric height has remained the same during a hundred years at any one given spot. According to the observations of Poleni and Toaldo, this pressure appeared variable. Doubts were long entertained regarding the accuracy of these views, but the more recent investigations of the astronomer Carlini render it almost probable that in Milan the mean barometric pressure is on the decrease. Perhaps the phenomenon is very local, and dependent on periodic variations in descending currents of air.

85. p. 223—“Palms.”

It is remarkable, that of this majestic form of plants—the Palms—some of which rise to more than twice the height of the Royal Palace at Berlin, and which the Indian, Amarasinha, has very characteristically called “kings among grasses,”—only fifteen species had been described up to the time of the death of Linnæus. The Peruvian travellers, Ruiz and Pavon, added only eight; whilst Bonpland and myself, traversing a greater extent of country, from 12° south lat. to 21° north lat., described twenty new species, and distinguished as many more which we named, without however being able to procure their blossoms in a perfect state.^[NV] At present (forty-four years after my return from Mexico) more than 440 species of palms, from both continents, have already been scientifically described, including the East Indian species arranged by Griffith. The “Enumeratio Plantarum” of my friend Kunth, which appeared in 1841, contains no fewer than 356 species.

The very few palms belonging, like our Coniferæ, Quercineæ, and Betulineæ, to social plants, are the Mauritian Palm (Mauritia flexuosa), and the two species of Chamærops, of which the Chamærops humilis covers whole tracts of land at the estuary of the Ebro and in Valencia, while the other, Chamærops Mocini, which we discovered on the Mexican shore of the Pacific, is entirely without prickles. In the same manner as there are some species of palms, including Cocos and Chamærops, which are peculiar to sea-coasts, so also is there a certain group of Alpine palms belonging to the region 297of the tropics, which, if I mistake not, was wholly unknown before my South American journey. Almost all these species of the palm family grow in plains and in a mean temperature of 81°.5 and 86° Fahr., seldom advancing higher up the sides of the Andes than to 1900 feet. The beautiful wax palm (Ceroxylon andicola), the Palmetto of Azufral at the Pass of Quindiu, (Oreodoxa frigida), and the reed-like Kunthia montana (Caña de la Vibora) of Pasto, all flourish at elevations varying from 6400 to 9600 feet above the level of the sea, where the thermometer frequently sinks in the night to 42°.8 and 45°.5 Fahr., and the mean temperature is scarcely 57° Fahr. These Alpine palms are interspersed with nut-trees, yew-leaved species of Podocarpus, and oaks, (Quercus granatensis). I have determined, by accurate barometric measurements, the upper and lower limits of the wax palm. We began to observe it first on the eastern declivity of the Cordilleras of Quindiu, at an elevation of 7929 feet, from whence it ascended to the Garita del Paramo, and Los Volcancitos, as high as about 9700 feet. The distinguished botanist, Don José Caldas, who was long our companion in the mountains of New Granada, and who fell a victim to Spanish party hatred, found, many years after my departure from the country, three species of palms in the Paramo de Guanacos, in the immediate vicinity of the limit of perpetual snow, and therefore, probably at an elevation of nearly 14,000 feet.^[NW] Even beyond the tropical region (in lat. 28°), Chamærops Martiana^[NX] rises on the advanced spurs of the Himalaya range to a height of 5000 feet.

When we consider the extreme geographical and, consequently, also the climatic limits of palms at spots which are but little elevated above the level of the sea, we find that some forms (the Date Palm, Chamærops humilis, Ch. palmetto, and Areca sapida of New Zealand,) advance far within the temperate zone of both hemispheres, to districts where the mean annual temperature scarcely reaches from 57° to 60° Fahr. If we form a progressive scale of cultivated plants in accordance with the different degrees of heat they require, and begin with the maximum, we have Cacao, Indigo, Bananas, Coffee, Cotton, Date Palms, Orange and Lemon trees, Olives, Spanish 298Chesnuts, and Vines. In Europe, Date Palms, together with Chamærops humilis, grow in the parallels of 43½° and 44°, as, for instance, on the Genoese Rivera del Ponente, near Bordighera, between Monaco and San Stefano, where there is a palm grove, numbering more than 4000 trees; also in Dalmatia, near Spalatro. It is remarkable that the Chamærops humilis is of frequent occurrence in the neighbourhood of Nice and in Sardinia, whilst it is not found in the Island of Corsica, lying between the two. In the New Continent, the Chamærops palmetto, which is sometimes more than 40 feet high, does not advance further north than 34°; a circumstance that may be explained by the inflection of the isothermal lines. In the southern hemisphere, Robert Brown^[NY] found that palms, of which there are only very few (six or seven) species, advance as far as 34° in New Holland; while Sir Joseph Banks saw an Areca, in New Zealand, as far as 38°. Africa, which, contrary to the ancient and still extensively diffused opinion, is poor in species of palms, exhibits only one palm (Hyphæne coriacea) which advances south of the equator, only as far as Port Natal, in 30° lat. The continent of South America presents almost the same limits. East of the chain of the Andes, in the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, and in the Cis-Plata province, palms extend, according to Auguste de St.-Hilaire,^[NZ] as far as 34° and 35°. The Coco de Chile, (our Jubæa spectabilis?), the only species of palm indigenous in Chili, advances on the western side of the chain of the Andes, according to Claude Gay,^[OA] to an equal latitude, viz., to the Rio Maule.

I will here subjoin the aphoristic observations which, in March, 1801, I noted down while on board ship, at the moment we were leaving the palm region surrounding the mouth of the Rio Sinu, west of Darien, and were setting sail for Carthagena de Indias.

“In the space of two years, we have seen as many as 27 different species of palms in South America. How many then must have been observed by Commerson, Thunberg, Banks, Solander, the two Forsters, Adanson, and Sonnerat, on their extensive travels! Yet, at the moment I am writing, our vegetable systems recognise scarcely more than from 299fourteen to eighteen methodically described species of palms. The difficulties of reaching and procuring the blossoms of palms are, in fact, greater than can well be conceived; and, in our own case, we were made peculiarly sensible of this in consequence of our having directed our attention especially to palms, grasses, cyperaceæ, juncaceæ, cryptogamia, and numerous other subjects hitherto much neglected. Most of the palms flower only once a year, and this period near the equator is generally about the months of January and February. How few travellers are likely to be in the region of palms precisely during this season! The period of blossoming of particular trees is often limited to a few days, and the traveller commonly finds, on his arrival in the region of palms, that the blossoms have passed away, and that the trees present only fructified ovaries and no male flowers. In an area of 32,000 square miles, there are often not more than three or four species of palms to be found. Who can possibly, during the brief period of flowering, simultaneously visit the various palm regions near the Missions on the Rio Caroni, in the Morichales at the mouth of the Orinoco, in the valley of Caura and Erevato, on the banks of the Atabapo and the Rio Negro, and on the declivity of the Duida? There is, moreover, great difficulty when the trees grow in thick woods or on swampy shores (as at the Temi and Tuamini), in reaching the blossoms, which are often suspended from stems formidably armed with huge thorns, and rising to a height of between 60 and 70 feet. They who contemplate distant travels from Europe for the purpose of investigating subjects of natural history, picture to themselves visions of efficient shears and curved knives attached to poles, ready for securing anything that comes in their way; and of boys who, obedient to their mandates, are prepared, with a cord attached to their feet, to climb the loftiest trees! Unfortunately, scarcely any of these visions are ever realised; while the flowers are almost unattainable, owing to the great height at which they grow. In the missionary settlements of the river net-work of Guiana, the stranger finds himself amongst Indians, who, rendered rich and independent by their apathy, their poverty, and their barbarism, cannot be induced either by money or presents to deviate three steps from the regular path, supposing one to exist. This stubborn indifference 300of the natives provokes the European so much the more, from his being continually a witness of the inconceivable agility with which they will climb any height when prompted by their own inclination, as, for instance, in the pursuit of a parrot, an iguana, or a monkey, which, wounded by their arrows, saves itself from falling by its prehensile tail. In the month of January the stems of the Palma Real, our Oreodoxa Regia, were covered with snow-white blossoms, in all the most frequented thoroughfares of the Havannah, and in the immediate vicinity of the city; but, although we offered, for several days running, a couple of piastres for a single spadix of the hermaphrodite blossoms to every negro boy we met in the streets of Regia and Guanavacoa, it was in vain, for, in the tropics, no free man will ever undertake any labour attended by fatigue unless he is compelled to do so by imperative necessity! The botanists and painters of the Royal Spanish Commission of Natural History under Count Don Jaruco y Mopox (Estevez, Boldo, Guio, Echeveria), confessed to us that, for several years, they had been unable to examine these blossoms, owing to the absolute impossibility of obtaining them.

“After this statement of the difficulties attending their acquisition, the fact of our being only able, in the course of two years, systematically to describe twelve species of palms, although we had discovered twenty species, may be understood; but I confess it would hardly have been credible to me before I left Europe. How interesting a work might be written on palms by a traveller, who could exclusively devote himself to the delineation, in their natural size, of the spathe, spadix, inflorescence and fruits!” (Thus I wrote many years before the Brazilian travels of Martius and Spix, and the appearance of the admirable work on Palms by the former.)

“There is much sameness in the form of the leaves, which are either feathery (pinnata), or fan-like (palmo-digitata); the leaf-stalk (petiolus) is either without thorns or is sharply serrated (serrato-spinosus). The leaf-form of Caryota urens and Martinezia caryotifolia, which we saw on the banks of the Orinoco and the Atabapo, and subsequently in the Andes, at the pass of Quindiu, as high as 3200 feet above the level of the sea, is almost as peculiar among palms as is the leaf-form of the Gingko among trees. The habitus and physiognomy of 301palms are expressive of a grandeur of character which it is difficult to describe in words. The stem (caudex) is simple, and very rarely divided into branches after the manner of the Dracæna, as in Cucifera thebaica (the Doom Palm), and in Hyphæne coriacea. It is sometimes disproportionately thick, as in Corozo del Sinu, our Alfonsia oleifera; of a reed-like feebleness, as in Piritu, (Kunthia montana), and the Mexican Corypha nana; of a somewhat fork-like and protuberant form towards the lower part, as in Cocos; sometimes smooth and sometimes scaly, as in the Palma de Covijaó de Sombrero, in the Llanos; or, lastly, prickly, as in Corozo de Cumana and Macanilla de Caripe, having the thorns very regularly arranged in concentric rings.

“Characteristic differences also manifest themselves in the roots, which, in some cases, project about a foot or a foot and a half from the ground, raising the stem on a scaffolding, as it were, or coiled round it in a padded-like roll. I have seen viverras and even very small monkeys pass under the scaffolding formed by the roots of the Caryota. Occasionally the stem is swollen only in the middle, being smaller above and below, as in the Palma Real of the island of Cuba. The green of the leaves is either dark and shining, as in Mauritia Cocos, or of a silvery white on the under side, as in the slender fan-palm, Corypha Miraguama, which we saw in the harbour of Trinidad de Cuba. Sometimes the middle of the fan-like leaf is adorned with concentric yellow and blue stripes, in the manner of a peacock’s tail, as in the prickly Mauritia, which Bonpland discovered on the Rio Atabapo.

“The direction of the leaves is a no less important characteristic than their form and colour. The leaflets (foliola) are either ranged in a comb-like manner close to one another, with a stiff parenchyma (as in Cocos Phœnix), to which they owe the beautiful reflections of solar light that play over the surface of the leaves, which shine with a brilliant verdure in Cocos, and with a fainter and ashy-coloured hue in the date-palm; or sometimes the foliage assumes a reed-like appearance, having a thinner and more flexible texture, and being curled near the extremity (as in Jagua, Palma Real del Sinu, Palma Real de Cuba, and Piritu del Orinoco). This direction of the leaves, together with the lofty stem, gives to the palms their character of high majesty. It is a characteristic of the 302physiognomical beauty of the palm that its leaves are directed aspiringly upwards throughout the whole period of its duration, (and not only in the youth of the tree, as is the case with the Date-Palm, which is the only one introduced into Europe.) The more acute the angle made by the leaves with the upper part of the stem (that is, the nearer they approach the perpendicular,) the grander and nobler is the form of the tree. How different is the aspect of the pendent leaves of the Palma de Covija del Orinoco y de los Llanos de Calabozo (Corypha tectorum), from the more horizontal leaves of the Date and Cocoa-nut palms, and the lofty heavenward-pointing branches of the Jagua, the Cucurito, and Pirijao.

“Nature seems to have accumulated all the beauties of form in the Jagua palm, which, intermingled with the Cucurito or Vadgihai, whose stem rises to a height of 80 or even more than 100 feet, crowns the granite rocks at the cataracts of Atures and Maypures, and which we also occasionally saw on the lonely banks of the Cassiquiare. Their smooth and slender stems rise to a height of from 64 to 75 feet, projecting like a colonnade above the dense mass of the surrounding foliage. These aërial summits present a marked and beautiful contrast with the thickly-leaved species of Ceiba, and with the forest of Laurineæ, Calophyllum, and the different species of Amyris which surround them. Their leaves, which seldom exceed seven or eight in number, incline vertically upwards to a height of 16 or 17 feet, and are curled at the extremities in a kind of feathery tuft. The parenchyma of the leaf is of a thin grass-like texture, causing the leaflets to wave with graceful lightness on the gently oscillating leaf-stalk. The floral buds burst forth, in all species of palms, from the stem immediately beneath the leaves; and the mode in which this takers place modifies their physiognomical character. Thus in some, as in Corozo del Sinu, the sheath is perfectly erect, and the fruit rises like a thyrsus, resembling the fruits of the Bromelia. In the greater number, the sheaths, which in some species are smooth, and in others very prickly and rough, incline downwards. In some, again, the male blossoms are of a dazzling white, and it may then be seen shining from a great distance; but in most species of palms they are yellow, closely compressed, and of an almost faded appearance, even when they first burst from the spathe.

303“In palms with feathery leaves the leaf-stalks either burst from the dry, rough, ligneous portion of the stem (as in Cocos, Phœnix, Palma Real del Sinu), or there rises in the rough part of the stem a grass-green, smooth, and thinner shaft, like one column above another, from which the leaf-stalk springs, as in Palma Real de la Havana, Oreodoxa regia, which excited the admiration of Columbus. In the fan-palms (foliis palmatis), the leafy crown often rests on a layer of dry leaves, which imparts to the tree a character of melancholy solemnity and grandeur (as in Moriche, Palma de sombrero de la Havana). In some umbrella-palms, the crown consists of a very few scattered leaves, raised on slender stalks (as in Miraguama).

“The form and colour of the fruit also present more variety than is generally supposed to be the case in Europe. Mauritia flexuosa has egg-shaped fruits, whose smooth, brown, and scaly surface gives them the appearance of young pine cones. How great is the difference between the large triangular cocoa-nut, the berry of the date, and the small stone-fruit of the Corozo! But of all the fruits of the palm, none can be compared for beauty with those of the Pirijao (Pihiguao) of San Fernando de Atabapo and of San Balthasar. They are oval, and of a golden colour (one-half being of a purplish red); are mealy, without seed, two or three inches in thickness, and hang in clusters like grapes from the summits of their majestic palm-trunks.” I have already spoken in the earlier part of this work of these beautiful fruits, of which there are seventy or eighty clustered together in one bunch, and which can be prepared in a variety of ways like bananas and potatoes.

The spathe enclosing the blossom bursts suddenly open in some species of palms, with an audible report. Richard Schomburgk has like myself observed this phenomenon^[OB] in the flowering of the Oreodoxa oleracea. This first opening of the blossoms of the palm accompanied with noise, reminds us of Pindar’s Dithyrambus on Spring, and of the moment when in the Argive Nemæa, “the first opening shoot of the date-palm announces the coming of balmy spring.”^[OC]

Palms, bananas, and arborescent ferns constitute three forms of especial beauty peculiar to every portion of the 304tropical zone; wherever heat and moisture co-operate, vegetation is most exuberant and vegetable forms present the greatest diversity. Hence South America is the most beautiful portion of the palm world. In Asia the palm form is rare, in consequence perhaps of a considerable part of the Indian continent beneath the equator having been destroyed and covered by the ocean in some earlier revolution of our planet. We know scarcely anything of the African palms between the Bay of Benin and the coast of Ajan; and we are, generally speaking, as already observed, acquainted with only a very small number of African palm-forms.

Palms, next to Coniferæ, and some species of Eucalyptus belonging to the family of the Myrtaceæ, afford examples of the loftiest growth. Stems of the Cabbage-palm (Areca oleracea) have been seen from 160 to 170 feet in height.^[OD] The Wax-palm, our Ceroxylon andicola, which we discovered in the Montaña de Quindiu on the side of the Andes, between Ibague and Carthago, attains the enormous height of 180 to 190 feet. I was able to make an accurate measurement of the trunks of some of these trees, which had been felled in the woods. Next to the Wax-palm, the Oreodoxa Sancona, which we found in flower in the valley of Cauca, and which affords a very hard and admirable wood for building, appeared to me to be the highest of all American palms. The fact, that notwithstanding the enormous mass of fruit yielded by some single palms, the number of individuals of each species growing wild is not very considerable, can only be explained by the frequent abortive development of the fruit, and by the voracity of the enemies by whom they are assailed from all classes of animals. In the basin of the Orinoco, however, whole tribes find the means of subsistence for many months together in the fruit of the palm. “In palmetis, Pihiguao consitis, singuli trunci quotannis fere 400 fructus ferunt pomiformes, tritumque est verbum inter Fratres S. Francisci, ad ripas Orinoci et Guainiæ degentes, mire pinguescere Indorum corpora, quoties uberem Palmæ fructum fundant.”^[OE]

86. 305p. 224—“From the earliest infancy of human civilization.”

We find, as far as history and tradition extend, that the Banana has constantly been cultivated in all continents within the tropical zone. The fact of African slaves having, in the course of centuries, brought some varieties of the Banana fruit to America is as certain as that of the cultivation of this vegetable product by the natives of America prior to its discovery by Columbus. The Guaikeri Indians in Cumana assured us that on the coast of Paria, near the Golfo Triste, the Banana will occasionally produce germinating seeds, if the fruit be suffered to ripen on the stem. It is from this cause, that wild Bananas are occasionally found in the recesses of the forests, in consequence of the ripe seeds being scattered abroad by birds. At Bordones also, near Cumana, perfectly formed and matured seeds have been occasionally found in the fruit of the Banana.^[OF]

I have already remarked, in another work,^[OG] that Onesicritus and other companions of the great Macedonian, make no mention of high arborescent ferns, although they speak of the fan-leaved umbrella palms and of the tender evergreen verdure of the banana-plantations. Among the Sanscrit names given by Amarasinha for the Banana (the Musa of botanists) we find bhanu-phala (sun-fruit), varana-buscha, and moko. Phala signifies fruit generally. Lassen explains Pliny’s words (xii. 6), “Arbori nomen palæ, pomo arienæ,” to this effect, that “The Roman mistook the word pala, fruit, for the name of the tree, whilst varana, changed in the mouth of a Greek to ouarana, was transformed into ariena. The Arabic mauza, our Musa, may have been formed from moko. The Bhanu fruit seems to approach to Banana fruit.”^[OH]

87. p. 224—“Form of the Malvaceæ.”

Larger forms of the Mallow appear, as soon as we have crossed the Alps; Lavatera arborea, near Nice and in Dalmatia; and L. olbia, in Liguria. The dimensions of the 306Baobab (monkey bread-tree) have already been given. (See pp. 270–272.) With the form of the Malvaceæ are associated the botanically allied families of the Byttneriaceæ, (Sterculia, Hermannia, and the blossoms of the large-leaved Theobroma Cacao, whose flowers break forth from the bark of the trunk as well as from the roots); the Bombaceæ (Adansonia, Helicteres, and Cheirostemon); and, lastly, the Tiliaceæ (Sparmannia Africana). Our Cavanillesia plantanifolia of Turbaco, near Carthagena in South America, and the celebrated Ochroma-like Hand-tree, the Macpalxochiquahuitl of the Mexicans, (from Macpalli, the flat of the hand,) Arbol de las manitas of the Spaniards, our Cheirostemon platanoides, are splendid representatives of the mallow form. In the last named, the anthers are connected together in such a manner as to resemble a hand or claw rising from the beautiful purplish-red blossoms. There is in all the Mexican free states only one individual remaining, one single primæval stem of this wonderful genus. It is supposed not to be indigenous, but to have been planted by a king of Toluca, about five hundred years ago. I found that the spot where the Arbol de las Manitas stands is 8825 feet above the level of the sea. Why is there only one tree of the kind? Whence did the kings of Toluca obtain the young tree or the seed? It is equally enigmatical, that Montezuma should not have possessed one of these trees in his botanical gardens of Huaxtepec, Chapoltepec, and Iztapalapan, which were used as late as by Philip the Second’s physician, Hernandez, and of which gardens traces still remain; and it appears no less striking that the Hand-tree should not have found a place among the drawings of subjects connected with natural history, which Nezahual Coyotl, king of Tezcuco, caused to be made, half a century before the arrival of the Spaniards. It is asserted that the Hand-tree grows wild in the forests of Guatimala.^[OI] We found two Malvaceæ, Sida Phyllanthos (Cavan.), and Sida Pichinchensis, rising in the equatorial region to the great height of 13,430, and 15,066 feet on the mountain of Antisana and at the volcano of Rucu Pichincha.^[OJ] The Saxifraga Boussingaultii rises from 307600 to upwards of 700 feet higher, on the declivity of Chimborazo.

88. p. 225—“Form of the Mimosæ.”

The delicate and feathery foliage of the Mimosæ, Acaciæ, Schrankiæ, and Desmanthus, may be regarded as peculiarly characteristic of tropical vegetation; although some representatives of this form may also be found without the tropics. In the Old Continent of the northern hemisphere, and indeed in Asia, I can instance only one low shrub, described by Marshal von Bieberstein as Acacia Stephaniana, but which, according to Kunth’s more recent investigations, is a species of the genus Prosopis. This social plant covers the arid plains of the province of Schirvan on the Kur (Cyrus), near New Schamach, as far as the ancient Araxes. Olivier found it also in the neighbourhood of Bagdad. It is the Acacia foliis bipinnatis mentioned by Buxbaum, and which extends towards the north as far as 42° lat.^[OK] In Africa the Acacia gummifera (Willd.), extends to Mogador, and therefore as far as 32° north lat.

In the New Continent, Acacia glandulosa (Michaux), and A. brachyloba (Willd.), adorn the banks of the Mississippi and Tennessee, and the Savannahs of the Illinois. The Schrankia uncinata was found by Michaux to penetrate from Florida northwards to Virginia (therefore as far as 37° north lat.). Gleditschia triacanthos is met with, according to Barton, to the east of the Alleghany mountains, as far as 38° north lat., and west of the same range even to 41° north lat. The extreme northern limit of Gleditschia monosperma is two degrees further southward. Such are the boundaries of the Mimosa form in the northern hemisphere, while in the southern hemisphere, beyond the tropic of Capricorn, simple-leaved Acaciæ are found as far as Van Dieman’s Land; the Acacia cavenia described by Claude Gay being even found in Chili between 30° and 37° south lat.^[OL] Chili has no true Mimosa, but three species of Acacia; and even in the north of Chili the Acacia cavenia grows only to a height of 12 or 13 feet, whilst in the south, as it approaches the sea-coast, it 308scarcely rises a foot above the ground. The most sensitive of the Mimosas which we saw in the northern portion of South America, are (next to the Mimosa pudica,) M. dormiens, M. somnians, and M. somniculosa. The irritability of the African sensitive plant was already noticed by Theophrastus (iv. 3), and by Pliny (xiii. 10); but I find the first description of the South American sensitive plants (Dormideras) in Herrera (Decad. ii. lib. iii. cap. 4). The plant first attracted the attention of the Spaniards, in 1518, in the Savannahs on the isthmus round Nombre de Dios (“parece como cosa sensible”), and it was pretended that the leaves (“de echura de una pluma de pajaros,”) only contracted together when they were touched with the finger, and not when brought in contact with a piece of wood. In the small swamps which surround the town of Mompox on the Magdalena River, we discovered a very beautiful aquatic Mimosa (Desmanthus lacustris), a representation of which is given in our “Plantes équinoxiales” (t. i. p. 55, pl. 16). In the chain of the Andes of Caxamarca we found two Alpine Mimosas (Mimosa montana and Acacia revoluta) growing at elevations of from 9000 to nearly 9600 feet above the level of the sea.

As yet no true Mimosa, (in the meaning of the word as established by Willdenow,) nor even any Inga, has been found in the temperate zone. Amongst all the Acacias the Oriental Acacia Julibrissin, which Forskäl has confounded with Mimosa arborea, endures the greatest degree of cold. In the Botanical Garden of Padua there is a high stem of considerable thickness growing in the open air, although the mean temperature of Padua is below 56° Fahrenheit.

89. p. 225.—“Heaths.”

We do not, in these physiognomical considerations, by any means comprehend, under the name of Heaths, the whole natural family of the Ericaceæ, which, on account of the similarity and analogy in the flowering parts of the plant, include Rhododendrum, Befaria, Gaultheria, and Escallonia; we limit ourselves to the very accordant and characteristic form of the species of Erica, including Calluna (Erica vulgaris, L.).

“Whilst in Europe Erica carnea, E. tetralix, E. cinerea, 309and Calluna vulgaris, cover large tracts of country, extending from the plains of Germany, and from France and England, to the extremity of Norway; Southern Africa presents the most varied assortment of species. One single species, Erica umbellata, which is indigenous in the southern hemisphere, at the Cape of Good Hope, is again found in Northern Africa, Spain, and Portugal. Erica vagans and E. arborea also belong to the opposite coasts of the Mediterranean. The former is met with in Northern Africa, in the neighbourhood of Marseilles, in Sicily and Dalmatia, and even in England; the second in Spain, Istria, Italy, and the Canaries.”^[OM] The common heath, Calluna vulgaris (Salisbury), which is a social plant, covers large tracts from the mouth of the Scheldt to the western declivity of the Ural. Beyond the Ural both Oaks and Heaths disappear. Both are wanting in the whole of Northern Asia, and in all Siberia, as far as the Pacific. Gmelin^[ON] and Pallas^[OO] have expressed their astonishment at this disappearance of Calluna vulgaris; which, on the eastern declivity of the Ural chain is even more decided and more sudden than one might be led to conclude, from the words of the last-named great naturalist. Pallas merely says, “ultra Uralense jugum sensim deficit, vix in Isetensibus campis rarissime apparet, et ulteriori Sibiriæ plane deest.” Chamisso, Adolph Erman, and Heinrich Kittlitz collected Andromedas but no Calluna in Kamtschatka and on the north-west coast of America. The accurate knowledge which we at present possess of the mean temperature of different portions of Northern Asia, as well as of the distribution of annual heat throughout the different seasons, in no way explains the non-advance of the Heath to the east of the Ural. Dr. Joseph Hooker has treated with much ingenuity, in a note to his “Flora Antarctica,” of the two contrasting phenomena of the distribution of plants, “uniformity of surface accompanied by a similarity of vegetation”, and again, “instances of a sudden change in the vegetation, unaccompanied with any diversity of geological 310and other feature.”^[OP] Is there an Erica in Central Asia? That which Saunders, in Turner’s “Travels to Thibet,”^[OQ] has described in the highlands of Nepaul, besides other European plants (Vaccinium Myrtillus, and V. oxycoccus), as Erica vulgaris, is, according to the opinion communicated to me by Robert Brown, probably the Andromeda fastigiata of Wallich. The absence of Calluna vulgaris and of all species of Erica, throughout the whole of the continental part of America is an equally striking fact, since Calluna is met with in the Azores and in Iceland. It has not hitherto been found in Greenland, but it was discovered some years ago in Newfoundland. The natural family of the Ericaceæ is also almost entirely wanting in Australia, where its place is supplied by the Epacrideæ. Linnæus described only 102 species of the genus Erica, but, according to Klotzsch’s observations, this genus comprises 440 true species, after the varieties have been carefully excluded.

90. p. 226—“The Cactus form.”

When the natural family of the Opuntiaceæ is separated from the Grossulariaceæ (species Ribes), and is confined within the limits indicated by Kunth,^[OR] we may regard the whole as exclusively American. I am not ignorant, that Roxburgh, in the Flora indica (inedita), mentions two species of Cactus which he regards as peculiar to the south-east of Asia, viz., Cactus indicus, and C. chinensis. Both are widely diffused, originally wild or having become so, and different from Cactus opuntia and C. Coccinellifer; but it is remarkable that this Indian plant should have no ancient Sanscrit name. The so-called Chinese Cactus has been introduced by cultivation into the island of St. Helena. Modern investigations, prosecuted at a period when a more general interest has been awakened in relation to the original distribution of plants, will unquestionably remove the doubts that have frequently been advanced against the existence of Asiatic Opuntiaceæ. We see, in a similar manner, certain vital forms appear separately in the animal world. 311How long did the Tapir continue to be regarded as a characteristic form of the New Continent! And yet the American Tapir is, as it were, repeated in that of Malacca (Tapirus indicus, Cuv.).

Although the Cactus form belongs, properly speaking, to the tropical regions, there are some species in the New Continent, that are indigenous to the temperate zone on the Missouri and in Louisiana; as, for instance, Cactus missuriensis and C. vivipara. Back, in his northern expedition, saw with astonishment, the banks of the Rainy Lake in lat. 48° 40′ (long. 92° 53′) entirely covered with C. Opuntia. South of the equator the Cactus does not advance further than Rio Itata (lat. 36°) and Rio Biobio (lat. 37¼°) In the part of the chain of the Andes lying within the tropics, I have found species of Cactus (C. sepium, C. chlorocarpus, C. bonplandii) on elevated plains from 9000 to upwards of 10,600 feet above the level of the sea; but in Chili, in the temperate zone, a far more strongly marked Alpine character is exhibited by Opuntia Ovallei, whose upper and lower limits have been accurately determined through barometric measurements by the learned botanist, Claude Gay. The yellow-flowering Opuntia Ovallei, which has a creeping stem, does not descend below 6746 feet, advancing as high as the line of perpetual snow; and even above it, wherever a few masses of rock remain uncovered. These little plants have been gathered at spots lying at an elevation of 13,663 feet above the level of the sea.^[OS] Some species of Echinocactus are also true alpine plants in Chili. A counterpart to the much admired fine-haired Cactus senilis is presented by the thick-wooled Cereus lanatus, called by the natives Piscol, which has a fine red fruit. We found it near Guancabamba, in Peru, on our journey to the Amazon river. The dimensions of the Cactaceæ (a group on which the Prince of Salm-Dyck was the first to throw considerable light) present the most striking contrasts. Echinocactus Wislizeni, which has a circumference of seven feet and a half, with a height of four feet and a quarter, is only third in size, being surpassed by E. ingens, (Zucc.) and E. platyceras. (Lem.)^[OT] The Echinocactus Stainesii attains a diameter of from two feet to two and a-half; E. 312visnago, belonging to Mexico, has a diameter of upwards of three feet, with a height of more than four feet, and weighs as much as from 700 to 2000 lbs.; while the Cactus nanus, which we collected near Sondorillo, in the province of Jaen, is so small and so loosely rooted in the sand, that it gets between the toes of dogs. The Melocactuses, which are full of juice even in the driest season, as the Ravenala of Madagascar (wood-leaf in the language of the country from rave, raven, a leaf, and ala, the Javanese halas, a wood), are vegetable springs, which the wild horses and mules open by stamping with their hoofs—a process in which they frequently injure themselves.^[OU] Cactus Opuntia has spread during the last quarter of a century in a remarkable manner through Northern Africa, Syria, Greece, and the whole of Southern Europe; penetrating from the coasts of Africa far into the interior, where it associates with the native plants.

After being accustomed to see Cactuses only in our hothouses, we were astonished at the density of the woody fibres in old cactus stems. The Indians are aware that cactus wood is indestructible, and admirably adapted for oars and the thresholds of doors. There is hardly any physiognomical character of exotic vegetation that produces a more singular and ineffaceable impression on the mind of the traveller, than an arid plain densely covered with columnar or candelabra-like stems of cactuses, similar to those near Cumana, New Barcelona, Coro, and in the province of Jaen de Bracamoros.

91. p. 226—“Orchideæ.”

The almost animal-like form occasionally observed in blossoms of the Orchideæ is most strongly marked in Anguloa grandiflora, celebrated in South America as the Torito; in the Mosquito (our Restrepia antennifera); in the Flor del Espiritu Santo (likewise an Anguloa, according to Floræ Peruvianæ Prodrom. p. 118, tab. 26); in the ant-like flower of Chiloglottis cornuta;^[OV] in the Mexican Bletia speciosa; and in the whole host of our remarkable European species of Ophrys: O. muscifera, O. apifera, O. aranifera, O. arachnites, &c. The taste for these splendidly flowering plants has so much increased, that the number of species cultivated by Messrs. Loddige, 313which, in 1813, was only 115, was upwards of 1650 in 1843, and in 1848, the number was estimated at no fewer than 2360. What a treasure of sumptuously flowering and unknown Orchideæ may be inclosed in the interior of Africa wherever there is an abundant supply of water! Lindley, in his beautiful work, On the Genera and Species of Orchideous Plants, 1840, counted exactly 1980 species; whilst Klotzsch at the close of the year 1848 counted 3545.

Whilst the temperate and cold zone possess only terrestrial Orchideæ, growing close to the ground, both forms, the terrestrial, as well as the parasitical, growing on the trunks of trees, are indigenous in the beautiful regions of the tropics. To the former class belong the tropical genera Neottia, Cranichis, and most Habenarias. But we have found both these forms as alpine plants on the declivity of the Andes of New Granada and Quito, viz., the parasitical (Epidendreæ) Masdevallia uniflora (at an elevation of 10,231 feet), Cyrtochilum flexuosum (at 10,103 feet), and Dendrobium aggregatum (at 9485 feet); and the terrestrial forms of Altensteinia paleacea, near Lloa Chiquito, at the foot of the volcano of Pichincha. Claude Gay is of opinion that the Orchideæ supposed to have been found growing on trees in the Island of Juan Fernandez and even at Chiloe, were probably only parasitical Pourretiæ, which advance as far south at least as 40°. In New Zealand, the tropical form of Orchideæ, hanging from trees, is still to be seen as far south as 45°. But the Orchideæ of Auckland and Campbell Islands (Chiloglottis, Thelymitra, and Acianthus), grow on level ground in moss. In the animal world there is at least one tropical form that penetrates further south. The Island of Macquarie (lat. 54° 39′) has an indigenous parrot, which lives therefore in a region nearer to the south pole than Danzig is to the north pole.^[OW]

92. p. 226—“Form of the Casuarinæ.”

Acacias, in which the place of the leaves is supplied by phyllodia, Myrtaceæ (Eucalyptus, Metrosideros, Melaleuca, Leptospermum), and Casuarinæ, constitute the sole characteristics of the vegetable world of Australia (New Holland) and Tasmania (Van Diemen’s Land). Casuarinæ with their 314leafless, thin, thread-like, articulated branches, and their joints furnished with membranous, toothed spathes, have been compared by travellers,^[OX] according to differences of species, either with arborescent Equisetaceæ (Horsetails) or with our Scotch firs. I have been much struck with the singular appearance of leaflessness presented by the small thickets of Colletia and Ephedra in South America, near the coast of Peru. Casuarina quadrivalvis penetrates, according to Labillardière, as far south as 43° in Tasmania. The mournful form of the Casuarina is not unknown in the East Indies and even on the eastern coast of Africa.

93. p. 227—“Acicular-leaved trees.”

The family of the Coniferæ (including the genera of Dammara, Ephedra, and Gnetum of Java and New Guinea, which are essentially allied to it, though distinctly separated by the form of the leaf and the whole conformation), plays so important a part in consequence of the number of individuals in each species, and by its geographical diffusion, while it covers in the northern temperate zone, as a social plant, such extensive districts, that we are almost compelled to wonder at the inconsiderable number of the species. We are not acquainted with so many Coniferæ by three-fourths as there are Palms already described, nay, the Coniferæ are numerically less than the Aroideæ. Zuccarini, in his “Contributions to the Morphology of the Coniferæ,”^[OY] enumerates 216 species, of which 165 belong to the Northern and 51 to the Southern hemisphere. These proportional numbers must now, in consequence of my researches, be differently expressed, since, with the species of Pinus, Cupressus, Ephedra, and Podocarpus, which Bonpland and I discovered in the tropical part of Peru, Quito, New Granada, and Mexico, the number of the cone-bearing trees flourishing between the tropics amounts to 42. The excellent and latest work of Endlicher^[OZ] contains 312 species of Coniferæ now living, and 178 of a primeval mundane period which are now buried in the coal formation, in variegated sandstone, in keuper, and in 315Jura limestone. The vegetation of the eocene world presents especially to us forms which, by their coëval relationship with several families of the present world, remind us that with it many intervening members have disappeared. The Coniferæ, so frequent in the primeval world, accompany, in particular, the ligneous remains of Palms and Cycadeæ; but in the most recent beds of lignite or brown coal we again find Coniferæ, our Pines and Firs, associated with Cupuliferæ (or Mastworts), Maples and Poplars.^[PA]

If the surface of the earth did not rise to great altitudes within the tropics, the strikingly characteristic form of acicular-leaved trees would have remained wholly unknown to the inhabitants of that zone. I took great pains, in common with Bonpland, to trace out, in the Mexican Highlands, the lower and upper boundary line of the Coniferæ and Oaks. The heights, at which both begin to grow (los Pinales y Encinales, Pineta et Querceta), are hailed with joy by those who come from the sea coast, because they announce a climate not yet invaded, as far as experience has hitherto shown, by that mortal disease called the black vomit (vomito prieto, a form of the yellow fever). For the oaks, especially the Quercus Xalapensis (one of the twenty-two Mexican species of oak which we first described), the lower line of vegetation, on the way from Vera Cruz to the capital of Mexico, somewhat below the Venta del Encero, is 3048 feet above the sea. At the western slope of the plateau, between the South Sea and Mexico, the inferior line for oaks is something lower; it begins near a hut named Venta de la Moxonera, between Acapulco and Chilpanzingo, at the absolute height of 2481 feet. I found a similar difference in the lower boundary line of the pine-forest. This boundary, towards the South Sea, in the Alto de los Caxones, north of Quaxinquilapa, is for the Pinus Montezumæ (Lamb.), which we at first had considered to be the Pinus occidentalis (Swartz), at the height of 4092 feet; but towards Vera Cruz, at the Cuesta del Soldado, it rises to 5979 feet. Both these kinds of tree, therefore, the oaks and firs as specified above, descended lower towards the Pacific than towards the Caribbean Gulf. During my ascent of the Cofre di Perote, I found the superior boundary Line of the oaks to be 10,353 feet; that of the Pinus Montezumæ 12,936 feet (about 2000 feet higher than the summit of Mount Ætna) 316and here, in February, considerable masses of snow had already fallen.

The greater the heights at which the Mexican cone-bearing trees begin to show themselves, the more singular is it, in the island of Cuba (where, at the border of the tropical zone the air, it is true, is cooled down during northerly winds to 46°.6 Fahr.), to see another kind of fir (P. Occidentalis, Swartz), in the plain itself, or on the gentle hills of the Isle of Pines, growing among palms and mahogany trees (Swietenia). Columbus even makes mention of a fir-wood (Pinal) in the journal of his first voyage (Diario del 25 de Nov., 1492), at Caya de Moya, north-east of Cuba. At Haiti, too (St. Domingo), the Pinus occidentalis near Cape Samana descends from the mountains down to the very beach. The stems of these firs, wafted by the gulf-stream to the two Azores, Graciosa and Fayal, were among the principal signs that proclaimed to the great discoverer the existence of unknown lands in the West.^[PB] Is it positively ascertained that the Pinus occidentalis is entirely absent from Jamaica, notwithstanding its lofty mountains? We may be permitted to inquire also, what kind of Pinus grows on the eastern coast of Guatimala, since the P. tenuifolia (Benth.) is assuredly found only on the mountains near Chinanta.

On taking a general view of the species of plants which form the upper tree-boundary in the northern hemisphere from the frigid zone to the equator; I find, for Lapland, according to Wahlenberg, in the Sulitelma Mountains (lat. 68°), not acicular-leaved trees but birches (Betula alba), far above the upper limit of the Pinus sylvestris; and for the temperate zone I find in the Alps (lat. 45° 45′) Pinus picea (Du Roi), advanced beyond the birches. In the Pyrenees (lat. 42° 30′), we find Pinus uncinata (Ram.) and P. sylvestris, var. rubra; within the tropics in Mexico (lat. 19°–20°), Pinus Montezumæ extends far beyond Alnus toluccensis, Quercus spicata, and Q. crassipes; and in the snow-crowned mountains of Quito, beneath the equator, Escallonia myrtilloides, Aralia avicennifolia, and Drymis Winteri attain the highest limits. This last species of tree, identical with the Drymis granatensis (Mut.), and the Wintera aromatica of Murray, presents, as Dr. Joseph Hooker has shown,^[PC] the most singular instance of the uninterrupted 317dissemination of the same species of tree from the southernmost part of Tierra del Fuego and Hermit Island, where it was discovered as early as 1577 by Drake’s expedition, up to the northern Highlands of Mexico, over a meridian extent of 86° of latitude or 5160 miles. Where the acicular or needle-leaved trees, as in the Swiss Alps and the Pyrenees, and not the birch as in the extreme north, form the boundary of arborescent vegetation on the loftiest mountains, which they picturesquely encircle, they are immediately followed in their ascent towards the snow-crowned summits, in Europe and Western Asia by the Alpine roses, Rhododendra, and at the Silla de Caracas, and the Peruvian Paramo de Saraguru, by the purplish-red blossoms of the graceful Befariæ. In Lapland the Rhododendron laponicum immediately follows the Coniferous trees; in the Swiss Alps, the Rhododendron ferrugineum and R. hirsutum, and in the Pyrenees the R. ferrugineum alone; and in the Caucasus the R. caucasicum. But R. caucasicum has also been found isolated by De Candolle in the Jura mountains (in the Creux de Vent), 5968 feet lower down, at the inconsiderable height of from 3303 to 3730 feet. If we would trace out the last zone of vegetation near the snow line we must name, according to our personal observation, in tropical Mexico, Cnicus nivalis and Chelone gentianoides; in the cold mountainous tracts of New Granada, the woolly Espeletia grandiflora, E. corymbosa, and E. argentea; in the Andes chain of Quito, Culcitium rufescens, C. ledifolium, and C. nivale;—yellow-blossomed Compositæ, which replace the somewhat more northerly lanose herbs of New Granada, and the Epeletiæ, with which they have so much physiognomical resemblance. This substitution or repetition of similar and almost identical forms in regions that are separated from each other by seas or wide intervening tracts, is a wonderful law of nature. It prevails even in the rarest forms of the floras. In Robert Brown’s family of the Rafflesiæ, separated from the Cytineæ, the two Hydnoræ in Southern Africa (H. Africana and H. Triceps), described by Thunberg and Drege, have, in South America, their counterpart in the H. Americana of Hooker.

Far above the regions of Alpine herbs, of the grasses and the lichens, nay, beyond the boundary of perpetual snow, there occasionally appears a phanerogamic plant, growing sporadically, and as it were isolated, to the astonishment of botanists; 318and this occurs both within the tropics and in the temperate zone, on fragments of rock which remain free from snow and are probably warmed by open fissures. I have already mentioned the Saxifraga Boussingaulti, which is found at a height of 15,773 feet on the Chimborazo; in the Swiss Alps the Silene acaulis, a clovewort or caryophyllea, has been seen at a height of 11,382 feet. The former vegetates at 640, the latter at 2621 feet above the respective local limits of snow, heights which were determined when both the plants were discovered.

In our European Coniferous woods the Red Pine (or Norway Spruce), and the White (or Silver) Pine show great and remarkable variations as regards their geographical dispersion on the slopes of mountains. Whilst in the Swiss Alps the Red Pine (Pinus picea, Du Roi, foliis compressotetragonis; unfortunately named by Linnæus and by most botanists of our time the Pinus abies!), forms the limit of tree vegetation at the mean height of 5883 feet, and only here and there does the lowly alder (Alnus viridis, Dec., Betula viridis, Vill.), advance higher towards the snow-limit; the White Pine (Pinus abies, Du Roi, Pinus picea, Linn., foliis planis, pectinato-distichis, emarginatis), has its limit, according to Wahlenberg, about 1000 feet lower. The Red Pine does not grow at all in Southern Europe, in Spain, the Apennines, and Greece; and, as Ramond remarks, it is only seen on the slope of the northern Pyrenees at great heights, and is entirely wanting in the Caucasus. The Red Pine extends further to the north in Scandinavia than the White, which latter tree appears in Greece (on the Parnassus, the Taygetus, and the Œta), as a variety with long acicular leaves, foliis apice integris, breviter mucronatis, the Abies Apollinis of the acute observer Link.^[PD]

On the Himalaya the acicular-leaved form of trees is distinguished by the mighty thickness and height of the stem as well as by the length of the leaf. The chief ornament of the mountain range is the Cedar Deodwara (Pinus deodara, Roxb.), which word is, in Sanscrit, dêwa-dâru, i.e. timber for the gods, its stem being nearly from 13 to 14 feet in diameter. It ascends in Nepaul to more than 11,700 feet above the level of the sea. More than 2000 years ago the Deodwara 319cedar near the River Behut, that is, the Hydaspes, furnished the timber for the fleet of Nearchus. In the valley of Dudegaon, north of the copper mines of Dhunpoor in Nepaul, Dr. Hoffmeister, so early lost to science, found in a forest the Pinus longifolia (Royle), or the Tschelu Fir, mixed with the lofty stems of a palm—Chamærops martiana (Wallich).^[PE] Such an interspersion of the pineta and palmeta had already, in the new continent, excited the astonishment of the companions of Columbus, as a friend and contemporary of the admiral’s, Petrus Martyr Anghiera, relates.^[PF] I myself saw, for the first time, this blending of pines with palms on the road from Acapulco to Chilpanzingo. The Himalaya, like the Mexican highlands, besides its genera of pine and cedar, possesses also forms of the Cypress (Cupressus torulosa, Don.); of the Yew (Taxus Wallichiana, Zuccar.); of the Podocarpus (Podocarpus nereifolia, Brown); and the Juniper (Juniperus squamata, Don., and J. excelsa, Bieberst.; the latter species occurring also at Schipke in Thibet, in Asia Minor, Syria, and the Grecian Islands; on the other hand, Thuja, Taxodium, Larix, and Araucaria, are forms of the New Continent, which are wanting in the Himalaya.

Besides the twenty species of pine with which we are acquainted in Mexico, the United States of North America, in their present extension to the Pacific, present forty-five described species, whilst all Europe can only enumerate fifteen. The same difference between abundance and paucity of forms is shown in the oaks, in favour of the New Continent (a quarter of the world the most connected and most elongated in a meridional direction). It has, however, been very recently demonstrated by the extremely accurate researches of Siebold and Zuccarini to be an erroneous assertion, that many European species of pine, in consequence of their wide distribution throughout Northern Asia, passed over to the Japanese islands, and there mingled with a genuine Mexican species, the Weymouth pine (Pinus strobus, L.), as Thunberg asserts. What Thunberg considered to be European species of pine, are species entirely different. Thunberg’s Red Pine (Pinus abies, Linn.) is P. polita, Sieb., and often planted near Buddhist temples; his northern common fir (Pinus sylvestris) is P. 320Massoniana, Lamb.; his P. cembra, the German and Siberian stone pine-tree, is P. parviflora, Sieb.; his common larch (P. larix) is the P. leptolepis, Sieb.; his Taxus baccata, the fruit of which the Japanese courtiers eat as a precautionary measure when attending long ceremonies,^[PG] forms a special genus and is Cephalotaxus drupacea, Sieb. The Japanese islands, despite the proximity of the Asiatic Continent, have a very different character of vegetation. Thunberg’s Japanese Weymouth pine, which would present an important phenomenon, is moreover a naturalized tree, that differs entirely from the indigenous pines of the New World. It is Pinus korajensis, Sieb., which has migrated from the peninsula of Corea and Kamtschatka to Nipon.

Of the 114 species now known of the genus Pinus, there is not one in the whole southern hemisphere, for the Pinus Merkusii, described by Junghuhn and De Vriese, still belongs to that part of the island of Sumatra which is north of the equator, that is, to the district of the Battas. The P. insularis, Endl., belongs to the Philippines, although at first it was introduced into Loudon’s Arboretum as P. timoriensis. From our present increasing knowledge of the geography of plants, we know that there are excluded also from the southern hemisphere, in addition to the genus Pinus, all the races of Cupressus, Salisburia (Ginkgo), Cunninghamia (Pinus lanceolata, Lamb.), Thuja, one species of which (Th. gigantea, Nutt.) at the Columbia river rises as high as 180 feet, Juniperus, and Taxodium (Mirbel’s Schubertia). I can introduce this last genus here with the greater certainty, inasmuch as a Cape plant, Sprengel’s Schubertia capensis, is no Taxodium, but forms a special genus, Widringtonia, Endl., in quite another division of the Coniferæ.

This absence from the southern hemisphere of the true Abietineæ, of the Juniperineæ, Cupressineæ, and all the Taxodineæ, as likewise of the Torreya, of the Salisburia 321adiantifolia, and of the Cephalotaxus among the Taxineæ, vividly reminds us of the enigmatical and still obscure conditions which determined the original distribution of vegetable forms. This distribution can by no means be satisfactorily explained either by the similarity or diversity of the soil, by thermal relations, or by meteorological conditions. I have long since directed attention to the fact, that the southern hemisphere possesses, for instance, many plants of the natural family of the Rosaceæ, but not a single species of the genus Rosa itself. Claude Gay informs us, that the Rosa Chilensis, described by Meyen, is a variety that has become wild of the Rosa centifolia, Linn., which has been naturalized in Europe for thousands of years. Such wild-growing varieties occupy large tracts in Chili near Valdivia and Osorno.^[PH]

In the whole tropical region of the northern hemisphere we only found one single indigenous rose, our Rosa Montezumæ, and this was on the Mexican highland, near Moran, at a height of 9336 feet. We may count among the strange phenomena observed in the distribution of plants, the total absence of the Agave from Chili, though it possesses Palms, Pourretias, and many species of Cactus; and although A. americana flourishes luxuriantly in Roussillon, at Nice, at Botzen, and in Istria, where it was probably introduced from the New Continent since the sixteenth century, and where it forms one connected line of vegetation from the north of Mexico, across the isthmus of Panama, as far as Southern Peru. With respect to the Calceolarias, I long believed that, like the roses, they were only to be found exclusively on the northern side of the equator. In fact, among the twenty-two species that we brought with us, not one was gathered to the north of Quito and the volcano of Pichincha; but my friend Professor Kunth remarks that Calceolaria perfoliata, which Boussingault and Capt. Hall found near Quito, advances also as far as New Granada, and that this species, as well as C. integrifolia, was sent by Mutis from Santa Fé de Bogotá to the great Linnæus.

The species of Pinus, which are so abundant in the wholly inter-tropical Antilles, as well as in the tropical mountain regions of Mexico, do not cross the isthmus of Panama, and are wholly wanting in the equally mountainous parts of tropical 322South America, that lie north of the equator; they are equally unknown on the elevated plains of New Granada, Pasto, and Quito. I have advanced in the plains and on the mountains from the Rio Sinu, near the isthmus of Panama, as far as 12° south lat.; and in this territorial extent, of nearly 1600 miles in length, the only forms of needle-leaved trees that I saw, were the taxoid Podocarpus (P. taxifolia), 64 feet high, in the Andes pass of Quindiu and in the Paramo de Saraguru, in 4° 26′ north and 3° 40′ south latitude, and an Ephedra (E. americana) near Guallabamba, north of Quito.

Among the group of the Coniferæ, the following are common to the northern and southern hemispheres: Taxus, Gnetum, Ephedra, and Podocarpus. Long before l’Heritier, the last genus had been very properly distinguished from Pinus by Columbus on the 25th of November, 1492. He says, “Pinales en la Serrania de Haiti que no llevan piñas, pero frutos que parecen azeytunos del Axarafe de Sevilla.”^[PI] Species of yew extend from the Cape of Good Hope to 61° north lat. in Scandinavia, consequently through more than 95 degrees of latitude. Podocarpus and Ephedra are almost as widely distributed; and even from among the Cupuliferæ, the species of the oak genus, usually termed by us a northern form, though they do not cross the equator in South America, reappear in the southern hemisphere, at Java, in the Indian archipelago. To this latter hemisphere ten genera of the cone-bearing trees exclusively appertain, of which we will here cite only the most important: Araucaria, Dammara (Agathis, Sal.), Frenela (comprising about 18 Australian species), Dacrydium and Lybocedrus, whose habitat is both in New Zealand and the Straits of Magellan. New Zealand possesses one species of the genus Dammara (D. australis), but no Araucaria. The contrary, by a singular contrast, is the case in New Holland.

In the form of acicular-leaved trees, Nature presents us with the greatest length of stem existing in arborescent productions. I use the term arborescent, for, as we have already remarked, among the Laminariæ (the oceanic algæ) Macrocystis pyrifera, between the coast of California and 68° south lat., often attains a length of more than 400 feet. If we exclude the six Araucarias of Brazil, Chili, New Holland, 323the Norfolk Islands and New Caledonia, then those Coniferæ are the highest, whose habitat is the temperate zone of the North. As we have found among the family of the palms the most gigantic of all, the Ceroxylon andicola, about 192 feet high, in the temperate Alpine climate of the Andes, so in like manner do the loftiest cone-bearing trees belong, in the northern hemisphere, to the temperate north-western coast of America and to the Rocky Mountains (lat. from 40° to 52°), in the southern hemisphere to New Zealand, Tasmania or Van Dieman’s Land, to Southern Chili and Patagonia, (where the lat. is again from 43° to 50°). The most gigantic forms among the genus Pinus are Sequoia (Endl.), Araucaria, and Dacrydium. I only name those species whose height not merely reaches but often exceeds 200 feet. That the reader may have a standard of comparison, he is reminded that in Europe the loftiest Red and White Pines, especially the latter, reach a height of from 160 to 170 feet; for instance, in Silesia, the pine in the Lampersdorf forest, near Frankenstein, long famous for its altitude, is only 158 feet high, although 17 feet in girth.^[PJ]

We give the following examples:—

Pinus Grandis (Dougl.), in New California, attains a height of 202–224 feet.

Pinus Frémontiana (Endl.), also there, and probably of the same height.^[PK]

Dacrydium Cupressinum (Solander), in New Zealand, above 213 feet.

Pinus Lambertiana (Dougl.), in North-western America, 223–234 feet.

Araucaria Excelsa (R. Brown), the Cupressus columnaris of Forster, in Norfolk Island and the surrounding rocks, 182–223 feet. The six Araucariæ hitherto known fall into two groups, according to Endlicher:

α. The American (Brazil and Chili), A. brasiliensis [Rich.], between 15° and 25° south lat., and A. imbricata [Pavon], between 35° and 50° south lat.; the latter 234–260 feet;

β. The Australian (A. Bidwilli [Hook.] and A. Cunninghami [Ait.] on the eastern side of New Holland, A. excelsa 324of Norfolk Island, and A. Cookii [R. Brown] of New Caledonia). Corda, Presl, Göppert, and Endlicher have already found five fossil Araucariæ in lias, in chalk, and in lignite.^[PL]

Pinus Douglasii (Sab.) in the valleys of the Rocky Mountains and at the Columbia River (north lat. 43°–52°). That meritorious Scotch botanist, whose name this tree bears, suffered a dreadful death in 1833, when he came from New California to collect plants on the Sandwich Islands. He inadvertently fell into a pit, into which one of the wild bulls of that country, always viciously disposed, had previously fallen. This traveller has described from accurate measurements a stem of P. Douglasii, which at three feet from the ground was 57½ feet round, and 245 feet high.^[PM]

Pinus Trigona (Rafinesque), on the western slope of the Rocky Mountains.^[PN] This “gigantic fir” was measured with great care; the girth of the stem at 6¼ feet above the ground was often from 38 to 45 feet. One stem was 300 feet high, and without branches for the first 192 feet.

Pinus Strobus (in the eastern part of the United States of North America, especially on this side of the Mississippi, but also again in the Rocky Mountains, from the source of the Columbia to Mount Hood, from 43° to 54° north lat.), in Europe called the Weymouth Pine, and in North America the White Pine, commonly no more than 160 to 190 feet high, but several have been seen in New Hampshire of 250 and 266 feet.^[PO]

Sequoia Gigantea (Endl.; the Condylocarpus, Sal.), of New California, like the Pinus trigona, about 300 feet high.

The nature of the soil and the conditions of heat and moisture, on which the nourishment of plants simultaneously depends, promote, it must be admitted, the development and the increase of the number of the individuals in a species; but the gigantic height attained by the stems of a few among the many nearly allied species of the same 325genus is not dependent on soil and climate but on a specific organization, on internal natural disposition, common alike to the vegetable and to the animal world. With the Araucaria imbricata of Chili, the Pinus Douglasii of the Columbia River, and the Sequoia gigantea of New California (245–300 feet) contrasts most strongly—not the Willow (Salix arctica) stunted by cold or mountain height, and only two inches high,—but a little phanerogamic plant in the beautiful climate of the southern tropical region, in the Brazilian province of Goyaz. The moss-like Tristicha hypnoides, of the Monocotyledonous family of the Podostemeæ, hardly attains the height of three lines. “While crossing the Rio Clairo in the province of Goyaz,” says an excellent observer, “I perceived on a stone a plant, the stalk of which was not more than three lines high, and which I considered at first to be a moss. It was, however, a phanerogamic plant, supplied with sexual organs like our oaks, and those gigantic trees which raised their majestic heads around.”^[PP]

Besides the height of the stem, the length, breadth, and position also of the leaves and fruit, the aspiring or horizontal, almost umbellate ramification, the gradation of the colour from fresh or silver-greyish green to dark brown, give a peculiar physiognomical character to the Coniferæ. The acicular leaves of Pinus Lambertiana (Douglas) in North-Western America are five, those of the P. excelsa (Wallich) on the southern slope of the Himalaya near Katmandu, seven, and those of P. longifolia (Roxb.) on the mountain range of Cashmere, more than twelve inches long. Moreover, in one and the very same species, these acicular leaves vary in the most remarkable manner, from the combined influence of the nourishment derived from soil and air, and of the height above the level of the sea. I found these variations in the length of the leaves of our common wild pine (Pinus sylvestris) so great, while travelling in a west and east direction over an extent of 80° of longitude (more than 3040 miles) from the Scheldt, through Europe and Northern Asia, to Bogoslowsk, in the Northern Ural, and Barnaul beyond the Obi, that occasionally, deceived by the shortness and rigidity of the leaves, I have mistaken it for another species of pine, allied to the mountain fir, P. rotundata, Link, (Pinus uncinata, Ram.) 326These are, as Link correctly observes,^[PQ] transitions to Ledebour’s P. sibirica of the Altai.

The delicate and pleasing green though deciduous foliage of the Ahuahuete (Taxodium distichum, Rich., Cupressus disticha, Linn.) on the Mexican plateau especially delighted me. In this tropical region the tree, swelling out to a portly bulk, and the Aztec name of which signifies “water-drum” (from atl, water, and huehuetl, drum), flourishes from 5750 to 7670 above the level of the sea, whilst it descends towards the plain in the marshy district (Cypress swamps) of Louisiana as far as 43° lat. In the southern States of North America the Taxodium distichum (Cyprès chauve), as well as in the lofty plains of Mexico, attains a height of 128 feet, with an enormous girth, the diameter being from 30 to nearly 40 feet, when measured near the ground.^[PR] The roots, too, present a very remarkable phenomenon, for they have woody excrescences, which are sometimes of a conical and rounded, sometimes of a tabular shape, and project three and even nearly five feet above the ground. Travellers have compared these woody excrescences, in spots where they are numerous and frequent, to the grave-tablets of a Jewish churchyard. Auguste de St. Hilaire remarks, with much acuteness: “These excrescences of the bald cypress, which resemble boundary-posts, may be regarded as exostoses, and like these live in the air; adventitious buds would doubtless escape from them, if the nature of the tissue of the coniferous plants did not oppose itself to the development of those concealed germs that give birth to these kinds of buds.”^[PS] In addition to the above, a remarkably enduring vitality is manifested in the roots of cone-bearing trees by the phenomenon which, under the name of “Effervescence,” (aftergrowth?) has attracted, in many ways, the attention of botanical physiologists, and which phenomenon, it appears, rarely displays itself in other dicotyledonous plants. The stumps of the felled white Pine, left in the ground, form, during a succession of several years, new layers of wood, and continue to increase in thickness, without throwing out shoots, branches, or leaves. The excellent observer Göppert believes, that this takes place solely 327through nourishment derived from the roots, which the extremity of the stem receives from a neighbouring living tree of the same species. The roots of the living tree he conceives are organically incorporated with those of the stump.^[PT] Kunth, in his excellent new Lehrbuch der Botanik, is opposed to this explanation of a phenomenon, which was even known, though imperfectly, to Theophrastus.^[PU] According to him, this process is perfectly analogous to that by which metallic plates, nails, carved letters, nay, even stags’ horns become imbedded within the body of wood. “The cambium, that is, the thin, walled cellular tissue, conducting muco-granular sap, from which new formations alone proceed, continues without any relation to the buds (being perfectly independent of them) to deposit new layers of wood on the outermost layer.”^[PV]

The relation above alluded to, between the absolute height of the ground and the geographical as well as isothermal latitude, shows itself often, no doubt, when one compares the arborescent vegetation of the tropical part of the Andes chain with the vegetation of the north-west coast of America, or the banks of the Canadian lakes. The same remark was made by Darwin and Claude Gay in the southern hemisphere, when they, in their descent from the plateau of Chili, advanced towards Eastern Patagonia, and the Archipelago of Tierra del Fuego; here woods of Drymis Winteri, together with Fagus antarctica and Fagus Forsteri, cover every thing with long uniform rows in a northern and southern direction down to the low lands. Trifling deviations from the law of constant station-ratios between mountain height and geographical latitude, depending or local causes, not sufficiently investigated, occur even in Europe. I would call to mind the limits of altitude for the birch and common fir in a part of the Swiss Alps, on the Grimsel. The fir (Pinus sylvestris) flourishes there up to 6330; and the birch (Betula alba) up to 6906 feet; beyond them again there is a belt of stone pines (Pinus cembra), whose upper boundary is 7343 feet. The birch, in consequence, lies there between two belts of Coniferæ. 328According to the excellent observations of Leopold von Buch, and the more recent ones of Martius, who also visited Spitzbergen, the limits of the geographical distribution in the high Scandinavian north (in Lapland) are as follows: “The Fir extends to 70°; the White Birch (Betula alba) to 70° 40′; the Dwarf-Birch (B. nana) to 71° at least: Pinus cembra is entirely wanting in Lapland.”^[PW]

As the length and the position of the acicular leaves define the physiognomic character of the coniferæ, this is still more designated by the specific difference of the leaf-breadth, and the parenchymatous development of the appendicular organs. Several species of Ephedra may be said to be almost leafless; but in Taxus, Araucaria, Dammara, (Agathis), and the Salisburia adiantifolia of Smith (Gingko biloba, Linn.), the breadth of the leaf gradually increases. I have here arranged the genera morphologically. Even the names of the species, as first chosen by botanists, indicate such an arrangement. Dammara orientalis of Borneo and Java, often 11 feet in diameter, was at first named loranthifolia: Dammara australis (Lamb.), in New Zealand, rising to 150 feet high, was originally named zamæfolia. Neither of these has acicular leaves, but “folia alterna oblongo lanceolata, opposita, in arbore adultiori sæpe alterna, enervia, striata.” The lower surface of the leaf is densely covered with stomata. These transitions of the appendicular system, from the greatest contraction to a broad leaf surface, possess, like every advance from simple to compound, both a morphological and a physiognomical interest.^[PX] The short-stalked, broad, split leaf of the Salisburia (Kämpfer’s Ginkgo), has also the breathing pores (stomata) only on the inferior side. The original habitat of the tree is not known. It became distributed from the Chinese temples to the gardens of Japan, in consequence of the intercourse that existed in olden times between the congregations of Buddha.

I was a witness of the singularly painful impression, which the first sight of a pine-forest at Chilpanzingo made on one 329of our companions in travelling from a port in the South Sea through Mexico to Europe. Born in Quito, under the equator, he had never seen needle-leaved trees and folia acerosa. The trees appeared to him to be leafless, and because we were journeying towards the cold north, he thought he recognised already, in the extreme contraction of the organs, the impoverishing influence of the Pole. The traveller, whose impressions I am here describing, and whose name neither Bonpland nor myself can mention without regret, was an excellent young man, the son of the Marquis de Selvalegre, Don Carlos Montufar, whose noble and ardent love of freedom courageously led him, a few years later, to a violent, though not dishonourable, death, in the war of independence, waged by the Spanish colonies.

94. p. 227—“Pothos plants, Aroideæ.”

Caladium and Pothos are forms appertaining exclusively to the tropical world, whilst the different species of Arum belong more to the temperate zone. Arum italicum, A. dracunculus, and A. tenuifolium advance as far as Istria and Friuli. No Pothos has hitherto been discovered in Africa. The East Indies possess several species of this genus (P. scandens and P. pinnata), which have a less beautiful physiognomy and are of less luxuriant growth than the American Pothos plants. We discovered a beautiful true arborescent Aroidea (Caladium arboreum), having a stem from 16 to more than 21 feet in height, near the convent of Caripe, east of Cumana. Beauvois found a singular Caladium (Culcasia scandens) in the kingdom of Benin.^[PY] In the Pothos form the parenchyma occasionally expands to so great a degree that the leaf-surface becomes perforated with holes, as in Calla pertusa (Kunth), and Dracontium pertusum (Jacquin), which we collected in the forests of Cumana. It was the Aroideas which first drew attention to the remarkable phenomenon of the fever-heat evolved by certain plants during the period of their inflorescence, and which even sensibly affects the thermometer, and is connected with a great and temporary increase in the absorption of oxygen from the atmosphere. Lamarck, in 1789, observed this increase of temperature in the Arum italicum. According to Hubert and Bory de St. Vincent, 330the vital heat of the Arum cordifolium rises in the Isle of France to 110° or 120°, whilst the temperature of the surrounding air is only 66°.2 Fahr. Even in Europe, Becquerel and Breschet found a difference of 39°.4. Dutrochet observed a paroxysm,—a rhythmical decrease and increase of vital heat,—which appeared by day to attain a double maximum. Théodore de Saussure remarked analogous augmentations of heat, although only of 1°.1 and 1°.8 Fahr., in other families of plants; as, for instance, in Bignonia radicans and Cucurbita pepo. In the latter, the male plant exhibited a greater increase of temperature than the female, when measured by a very sensitive thermoscopic apparatus. Dutrochet—whose early death is greatly to be regretted, on account of the important services he rendered to physics and vegetable physiology—likewise observed,^[PZ] by means of thermo-magnetic multiplicators, a vital heat of 0°.25 to 0°.67 Fahr. in many young plants (Euphorbia lathyris, Lilium candidum, Papaver somniferum), and even among funguses, in many species of Agaricus and Lycoperdon. This vital heat disappeared at night, but not by day, even when the plants were placed in the dark.

The contrast presented by the physiognomy of the Casuarineas, acicular-leaved trees, and the almost leafless Peruvian Colletias and Pothos plants (Aroideas), is still more striking when we compare these types of extreme contraction in the leaf form with Nymphæaceæ and Nelumboneæ. Here we again meet, as in the Aroideæ, with leaves in which the cellular tissue is excessively expanded upon long, fleshy, succulent petioles,—as Nymphæa alba, N. lutea, N. thermalis (formerly called N. lotus, from the hot spring of Pecze, near Groswardein in Hungary), the species of Nelumbo, Euryale amazonica (Pöppig), and Victoria Regina, allied to the prickly Euryale, although of a very different genus, according to Lindley, and discovered in 1837 by Sir Robert Schomburgk in the river Berbice, in British Guiana. The round leaves of this splendid aquatic plant are from 5 to 6 feet in diameter, and surrounded by upright margins from 3 to 5 inches in height, which are light green on the inner side, but of a bright crimson on the outside. These agreeably perfumed flowers, of which 20 or 30 may be seen together in a small space, are about 15 inches in diameter, of a white or rose colour, and 331have many hundred petals.^[QA] Pöppig also gives to the leaves of his Euryale amazonica, which he found at Tefé, a diameter of about 6 feet.^[QB] Whilst Euryale and Victoria present a greater parenchymatous expansion of the leaf-form in all its dimensions than other genera, the most gigantic development of the blossoms occurs in a parasitical Cytinea, which Dr. Arnold discovered in Sumatra in 1818. This flower, Rafflesia Arnoldi (R. Brown), has a stemless blossom measuring three feet in diameter, surrounded by large leaf-like scales. Like funguses, it has an animal odour, and smells something like beef.

95. p. 227—“Lianes, Creeping Plants, (Span. Vejuccos.)”

According to Kunth’s division of Bauhinias, the true genus Bauhinia belongs to the New Continent. The African Bauhinia, B. rufescens (Lam.), is a Pauletia (Cav.), a genus of which we also discovered some new species in South America. In the same manner the Banisterias of the Malpighiaceæ are actually an American form. Two species are indigenous to the East Indies, and one—described by Cavanilles as B. leona—to Western Africa. In the tropical zone, and in the Southern hemisphere, species of the most different families belong to the climbing plants which in those regions render the forests so impenetrable to man and so accessible and habitable to the whole monkey family (Quadrumana), the Cercoleptes, and the small tiger cats. The Lianes thus afford whole flocks of gregarious animals an easy means of rapidly ascending high trees, passing from one tree to another, and even of crossing brooks and rivulets.

In the south of Europe and in the north of America, Hops from the Urticeæ, and the species of Vitis from the Ampelideæ, belong to Climbing Plants; while this form is represented in the tropics by climbing and trailing grasses. We found on the elevated plains of Bogota, in the pass of Quindiu in the Andes, and in the Cinchona forests of Loxa, a Bambusa allied to Nastus, our Chusquea scandens, twined round powerful trunks of trees, adorned at the same time with flowering Orchideæ. Bambusa scandens (Tjankorreh), which Blume found in Java, belongs probably to Nastus, or to the 332grass-genus Chusquea, the Carrizo of the Spanish settlers. In the pine forests of Mexico, Climbing Plants seem to be entirely wanting; but in New Zealand a fragrant Pandanus, Freycinetia Banksii, together with one of the Smilaceæ, Ripogonum parviflorum (R. Brown), which renders the forests almost impenetrable, winds round a gigantic fir-tree more than 200 feet high, Podocarpus dacryoides (Rich.), called Kakikatea in the language of the country.^[QC]

A striking contrast to these Climbing Grasses and Creeping Pandaneas is afforded by the splendid many-coloured blossoms of the Passion flowers (among which, however, we ourselves found one arborescent, upright, species (Passiflora glauca) in the Andes of Popayan, at an elevation of nearly 10,500 feet, and by the Bignoniaceæ, Mutisiæ, Alströmeriæ, Urvilleæ, and Aristolochiæ. Among the latter, our Aristolochia cordata has a coloured (purplish red) calyx, about seventeen inches in diameter; “flores gigantei, pueris mitræ instar inservientes.” Owing to the quadrangular form of their stalks, their flattening, which is not occasioned by any external pressure, and a band-like undulatory motion, many of these climbing plants have a peculiar physiognomy. The diagonal intersections of the stems of Bignonias and Banisterias form, by means of furrows in the ligneous substance, and through its clefts, where the bark penetrates to some depth, cruciform or mosaic-like figures.^[QD]

96. p. 228—“The form of Aloes.”

To this group of plants, which is characterised by a great similarity, belong Yucca aloifolia, which penetrates as far north as Florida and South Carolina; Y. angustifolia (Nutt.), which advances to the banks of the Missouri; Aletris arborea; the Dragon-tree of the Canaries, and two other Dracænas belonging to New Zealand; arborescent Euphorbias; and Aloe dichotoma, Linn., (formerly the genus Rhipidodendrum of Willdenow), the celebrated Koker-boom, whose stem is four feet in thickness, about twenty feet high, and has a crown measuring 426 feet round.^[QE] The forms which I have 333here associated together belong to very different families: as, for instance, to the Liliaceæ, Asphodeleæ, Pandaneæ, Amaryllideæ, and Euphorbiaceæ; and are therefore, with the exception of the last named, all included under the great division of Monocotyledons. One of the Pandaneæ, Phytelephas macrocarpa (Ruiz), which we found on the banks of the Magdalena river in New Granada, exactly resembles with its feathery leaves a small palm-tree. The Tagua (as it is called by the Indians) is moreover, as Kunth has observed, the only Pandanea of the New Continent. The singular Agave-like and high-stemmed Doryanthes excelsa of New South Wales, which the intelligent Correa de Serra was the first to describe, belongs to the Amaryllideæ, like our low-growing Narcissuses and Jonquils.

In the candelabra-like form of Aloes, the branches of the main-trunk must not be confounded with the flower-stalks. In the American aloe, Agave Americana (Maguey de Cocuyza), which is entirely wanting in Chili, and in the Yucca acaulis (Maguey de Cocuyza), the leaf-stalks present a candelabra-like arrangement of the blossoms during the excessively rapid and gigantic development of the inflorescence, which, as is well known, is but too transient a phenomenon. In some arborescent Euphorbias the physiognomical character depends, however, on the branches and their arrangement. Lichtenstein describes,^[QF] with much animation, the impression made upon him by the appearance of an Euphorbia officinarum which he saw in the “Chamtoos Rivier,” near Cape Town. The form of the tree was so symmetrical, that it repeated itself on a small scale, like a candelabrum, to a height of more than 30 feet. All the branches were furnished with sharp thorns.

Palms, Yucca and Aloe plants, arborescent Ferns, some Aralias, and the Theophrasta, where I have seen it in a state of luxuriant growth, present to the eye a certain physiognomical resemblance of character by the nakedness of the stems (there being no branches) and the beauty of their summits or crowns, however they may otherwise differ in the structure of the inflorescence.

Melanoselinum decipiens, (Hofm.), which has been introduced into our gardens from Madeira, and is sometimes from 10 to 12 feet high, belongs to a peculiar group of 334arborescent umbelliferæ allied to the Araliaceæ, to which other species, as yet undiscovered, will undoubtedly at some future time be added. Ferula, Heracleum, and Thapsia likewise attain a considerable height, but they are still herbaceous shrubs. Melanoselinum stands almost entirely alone as an arborescent umbelliferous plant; Bupleurum (Tenoria) fruticosum, Linn., of the shores of the Mediterranean, Bubon galbanum of the Cape, and Crithmum maritimum of our sea-coasts, are only shrubs. Tropical countries, where, as Adanson long since very correctly remarked, Umbellifereæ and Crucifereæ are almost wholly wanting in the plains, exhibit, as we ourselves observed, the most dwarfish of all the umbelliferous family on the lofty mountain ridges of the South American and Mexican Andes. Among the thirty-eight species which we collected on elevations whose mean temperature was below 54°.5 Fahr., we found Myrrhis andicola, Fragosa arctioïdes, and Pectophytum pedunculare, interspersed with an equally dwarfish Alpine Draba, growing moss-like close to the rock and the frequently frozen earth, at a height of 13,428 feet above the level of the sea. The only tropical umbelliferous plants which we found on the plain in the New Continent were two species of Hydrocotyle (H. umbellata and H. leptostachya) between the Havannah and Batabano, and therefore at the extreme limit of the torrid zone.

97. p. 228—“The form of Grasses.”

The group of the arborescent grasses which Kunth has collected under the head of Bambusaceæ, in his great work on the plants collected by Bonpland and myself, constitutes one of the most beautiful adornments of tropical vegetation. Bambu, called also Mambu, occurs in the Malay language, although according to Buschmann merely as an isolated expression, the ordinary term in use being buluh, whilst the only name for this species of cane in Java and Madagascar is wuluh, voulou. The numbers of the genera and species included in this group have been extraordinarily increased by the industry of botanical travellers. It has been found that the genus Bambusa is entirely wanting in the New Continent, to which region, however, the gigantic Guaduas, discovered by us, and which attain a height of from 50 to 64 feet, together with the Chusquea, exclusively belong; that Arundinaria (Rich.) 335occurs in both continents, although differing specifically in each; that Bambusa and Beesha (Rheed.), occur in India and the Indian Archipelago; and that Nastus grows in the islands of Madagascar and Bourbon. With the exception of the high-climbing Chusquea, these forms morphologically replace each other in different parts of the earth. In the northern hemisphere far beyond the limits of the torrid region, in the valley of the Mississippi, the traveller is gladdened by the sight of a species of Bamboo, the Arundinaria macrosperma, formerly called also Miegia and Ludolfia. In the southern hemisphere, in the south of Chili, between the parallels of 37° and 42°, Gay found one of the Bambusaceæ more than 20 feet high (not a climbing, but a still undescribed arborescent self-supporting Chusquea), growing, mingled with Drymis Chilensis, in a region clothed with an uniform forest-covering of Fagus obliqua.

Whilst in India the Bambusa flowers so frequently that in Mysore and Orissa the seeds are mixed with honey, and eaten like rice,^[QG] in South America the Guadua blossoms so very seldom that in the course of four years we were only twice able to procure the flowers; once on the solitary banks of the Cassiquiare, the arm connecting the Orinoco with the Rio Negro and the Amazon, and again in the province of Popayan, between Buga and Quilichao. It is a very striking fact that some plants grow with the greatest vigour in certain localities without flowering; as is the case with the European olive-trees introduced into America centuries ago, and growing between the tropics, near Quito, at elevations of about 9600 feet above the level of the sea; and in like manner the walnuts, hazel-nut bushes, and the fine olive-trees (Olea Europea) of the Isle of France.^[QH]

As some of the Bambusaceæ (arborescent grasses) advance into the temperate zone, so also they do not suffer in the torrid zone from the temperate climate of mountain districts. They are certainly more luxuriant as social plants between the sea-shore and elevations of about 2558 feet in the Province de las Esmeraldas, west of the volcano of Pichincha, where Guadua angustifolia (Bambusa Guadua of our Plantes équinoxiales, t, i. tab. xx) generates in its interior 336large quantities of the siliceous Tabaschir (Sanscrit tvakkschira, cow-milk). We saw the Guadua advance in the pass of Quindiu, in the chain of the Andes, to a height of 5755 feet above the level of the sea, as determined by barometric measurements. Nastus borbonicus has been called a true Alpine plant by Bory de St. Vincent, and according to him it does not descend lower than 3840 feet on the declivity of the volcano in the island of Bourbon. This appearance or the repetition at great elevations of certain forms belonging to torrid plains calls to mind the group of Alpine palms (Kunthia montana, Ceroxylon andicola, and Oreodoxa frigida) of which I have already spoken, and a grove of Musaceæ (Heliconia, perhaps Maranta), 16 feet high, which I found growing isolated on the Silla de Caracas, at a height of more than 7000 feet above the level of the sea.^[QI] While the form of gramineæ, with the exception of some few herbaceous dicotyledons, constitutes the highest phanerogamic zone on the snow-crowned summits of mountains, so the grasses mark the boundary of phanerogamic vegetation in a horizontal direction, towards the northern and southern polar regions.

Many admirable general results, no less than a great mass of important materials, have been yielded to the geography of plants by my young friend, Joseph Hooker, who, after having but recently returned with Sir James Boss from the frozen antarctic regions, is now engaged in exploring the Thibetian Himalaya. He draws attention to the fact that phanerogamic flowering plants (grasses) advance 17½° nearer to the north than to the south pole. In the Falkland Islands, near the thick knots of Tussac grass, Dactylis cæspitosa, Forster. (a Festuca, according to Kunth), and in Tierra del Fuego, under the shade of the birch-leaved Fagus antarctica, there grows the same Trisetum subspicatum, which spreads over the whole range of the Peruvian Andes, and across the Rocky Mountains, to Melville Island, Greenland, and Iceland, and is also found in the Swiss and Tyrolese Alps as well as in the Altai, in Kamtschatka, and in Campbell’s Island, south of New Zealand, extending therefore over 127 degrees of latitude, or from 54° south to 72° 50′ north lat. “Few grasses,” says Joseph Hooker,^[QJ] “have so wide a range as Trisetum subspicatum (Beauv.), nor am I 337acquainted with any other arctic species which is equally an inhabitant of the opposite polar regions.” The South Shetland Islands, which are separated by Bransfield Straits from d’Urville’s “Terre de Louis-Philippe” and from Peak Haddington, a volcano, 7046 feet high, and situated in 64° 12′ south lat., have recently been visited by Dr. Eights, a botanist from the United States. He found there (probably in 62° or 62¼° south lat.) a small grass, Aira antarctica,^[QK] which is “the most antarctic flowering plant hitherto discovered.”

Even in Deception Island, belonging to the same group, 62° 50′, only lichens are met with, and no longer any species of grass; and in like manner further south-east, in Cockburn’s Island (64° 12′) near Palmer’s Land, only Lecanoras, Lecideas, and five foliaceous Mosses, among which is our German Bryum argenteum, were gathered. “This appears to be the Ultima Thule of antarctic vegetation,” for further south even terrestrial cryptogamia are wanting. In the great bay formed by Victoria Land, on a small island lying opposite to Mount Herschel (in 71° 49′ lat.), and on Franklin Island, 92 miles north of the volcano, Erebus, (12,366 feet in height), and in 76° 7′ south lat., Hooker found no trace of vegetation. In extreme northern latitudes, the distribution of even the higher organisms is very different; for here phanerogamic plants advance 18½° nearer to the pole than in the southern hemisphere. Walden Island (80½° north lat.) possesses still ten species of phanerogamia. Antarctic phanerogamic vegetation is also poorer in species at equal distances from the pole; thus Iceland has five times more phanerogamia than the southern group of Auckland and Campbell Islands, but the uniform vegetation of the antarctic regions is, from climatic causes, both more succulent and more luxuriant.^[QL]

98. p. 229—“Ferns.”

If we estimate the whole number of the cryptogamia hitherto described at 19,000 species, as has been done by Dr. Klotzsch, a naturalist possessing a profound acquaintance with the Agamic plants, we shall have for Fungi 8000 (of which Agarici constitute the eighth part); for Lichens, according to J. von Flotow of Hirschberg, and Hampe of 338Blankenburg, at least 1400; for the Algæ 2580; for Mosses and Liverworts, according to Carl Müller of Halle, and Dr. Gottsche of Hamburgh, 3800; and for Ferns 3250. For this last important result we are indebted to the profound investigations made by Professor Kunze of Leipzig, on this group of plants. It is a striking fact that the family of the Polypodiaceæ alone includes 2165 of the whole number of described Filices, whilst other forms, as the Lycopodiacæ and Hymenophyllaceæ, number only 350 and 200. There are therefore nearly as many described species among Ferns as among Grasses.

It is singular that no mention of the beautiful arborescent ferns is to be found in the classic authors of antiquity, Theophrastus, Dioscorides, and Pliny; while, from the information given by the companions of Alexander, Aristobulus, Megasthenes, and Nearchus, reference is made^[QM] to Bamboos, “quæ fissis internodiis lembi vice vectitabant navigates;” to the Indian trees “quarum folia non minora clypeo sunt;” to the Fig-tree which takes root from its branches, and to Palms, “tantæ proceritatis, ut sagittis superjici nequeant.” I find the first mention of arborescent ferns in Oviedo.^[QN] “Among ferns,” says this experienced traveller, who had been appointed by Ferdinand the Catholic, Director of the Goldwashings in Haiti, “there are some which I class with trees, because they are as thick and high as Pine-trees. (Helechos que yo cuento por arboles, tan gruesos como grandes pinos y muy altos). They mostly grow among the mountains and where there is much water.” This estimate of their height is exaggerated, for in the dense forests near Caripe even our Cyathea speciosa only attains a height of 32 to 37 feet; and an admirable observer, Ernst Dieffenbach, did not see in the most northern of the three islands of New Zealand any trunks of Cyathea dealbata exceeding 42½ feet. In the Cyathea speciosa and the Meniscium of the Chaymas missions, we observed in the midst of the most shady part of the primeval forest, that the scaly stems of some of the most luxuriantly developed of these trees were covered with a shining carbonaceous powder, which appeared to be owing to a singular decomposition of the fibrous parts of the old leaf stalks.^[QO]

339Between the tropics, where, on the declivities of the Cordilleras, climates are superimposed in strata, the true region of arborescent ferns lies between about 3200 and 5350 feet above the level of the sea. In South America and in the Mexican highlands they seldom descend lower towards the plains than 1280 feet. The mean temperature of this happy region is between 64°.6 and 70°.8 Fahr. It reaches the lowest stratum of clouds (which floats the nearest to the surface of the sea and the plain), and it therefore enjoys uninterruptedly a high degree of humidity, together with a great equality in its thermal relations.^[QP] The inhabitants, who are of Spanish descent, call this region “Tierra templada de los helechos.”

The Arabic designation for ferns is feledschun, filix, (from which the f has been changed, according to Spanish usage, into h,) and perhaps the term may be connected with the verb faladscha, “it divides,” from the finely cut margin of the frond.^[QQ]

The conditions of genial mildness in an atmosphere charged with aqueous vapour and of great uniformity in respect to moisture and warmth, are fulfilled on the declivities of the mountains in the valleys of the Andes, and more especially in the southern milder and more humid hemisphere, where arborescent ferns advance not only to New Zealand and Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania), but even as far as the Straits of Magellan and Campbell Island, and therefore to a southern latitude almost identical in degrees with the parallel in which Berlin is situated north of the equator. From among the family of arborescent ferns there flourishes the vigorous Dicksonia squarrosa, in 46° south lat. in Dusky Bay, New Zealand; D. antarctica of Labillardière in Tasmania; a Thyrsopteris in the Island of Juan Fernandez; an undescribed Dicksonia, whose stem is from 12 to 16 feet high, near Valdivia in Southern Chili; and a Lomaria, somewhat less in height, in the Straits of Magellan. Campbell Island is still nearer to the south pole, in 52½° lat., but even there the leafless stem of the Aspidium venustum rises to a height of more than four feet.

The climatic relations under which Ferns (Filices) in general flourish, are manifested in the numerical laws of their 340quotients of distribution. In the plains within the tropical regions of large continents this quotient is, according to Robert Brown, and from more recent investigations on the subject, ¹⁄₂₀ of all the phanerogamia, and in mountainous districts of large continents ⅙ to ⅛. This ratio is quite different on the small islands scattered over the ocean; for here the proportion borne by the number of ferns to the sum total of all the phanerogamic plants increases so considerably, that in the South-Sea Islands the quotient rises to ¼, while in the sporadic islands, St. Helena and Ascension, the number of ferns is almost equal to half of the whole phanerogamic vegetation.^[QR] In receding from the tropics (where on the large continents d’Urville estimates the proportional number at ¹⁄₂₀), the relative frequency of ferns decreases rapidly as we advance into the temperate zone. The quotients are for North America and the British Islands ¹⁄₃₅, for France ¹⁄₅₈, for Germany ¹⁄₅₂, for the dry parts of Southern Italy ¹⁄₇₄, for Greece ¹⁄₈₄. The relative frequency again increases considerably towards the frigid north. Here the family of ferns decreases much slower in the number of its species than does that of phanerogamic plants. The luxuriantly aspiring character of the species, and the number of individuals contained in each, augment the deceptive impression of absolute frequency. According to Wahlemberg’s and Hornemann’s catalogues, the relative numbers of the Filices are for Lapland ¹⁄₂₅, for Iceland ¹⁄₁₈, for Greenland ¹⁄₁₂.

Such are, according to our present knowledge, the natural laws that manifest themselves in the distribution of the graceful form of Ferns. But it would seem as if in the family of Ferns, which have so long been regarded as cryptogamic, we had lately acquired evidence of the existence of another natural law,—the morphological law of propagation. Count Leszczyc-Suminski, who happily combines the power of microscopic investigation with a very remarkable artistic talent, has discovered an organisation capable of effecting fructification in the prothallium of ferns. He distinguishes two sexual apparatuses, of which the female portion is situated in hollow ovate cells in the middle of the sporangium, and the male in the ciliated antheridia, or the organs producing spiral threads, which have already been examined by Nägeli. Fructification 341is supposed to be effected by means of moveable ciliated spiral threads and not by pollen tubes.^[QS] According to this view, Ferns would be, as Ehrenberg remarks,^[QT] products of a microscopic fructification taking place on the prothallium, which here serves as a fertilizing receptacle, while throughout the whole course of their often arborescent development they would be flowerless and fruitless plants, having a bud-formation. The spores lying as sori on the under side of the frond are not seeds but flower-buds.

99. p. 229—“The Liliaceæ.”

Africa is the principal seat of this form; there the greatest diversity obtains; there they form masses and determine the natural character of the region. The New Continent exhibits also, it is true, magnificent Alströmeriæ and species of Pancratium, Hæmanthus, and Crinum. We have enriched the first of these genera with nine, and the second with three species; but these American liliaceous plants are more diffused and of less social habits than the European Irideæ.

100. p. 229—“The Willow Form.”

Nearly 150 different species of the main representatives of this form, or rather of the Willow itself, are already known. They cover the northern parts of the earth from the equator to Lapland. Their number and their varieties of form increase between the 46th and 70th degrees of latitude, more especially in that part of northern Europe which has been so remarkably indented by the early revolutions of our planet. I am acquainted with ten or twelve species of inter-tropical Willows, and these, like the Willows of the southern hemisphere, are deserving of special attention. As nature appears to delight in all zones in a wondrous multiplication of certain animal forms, as for instance, Anatidæ (Lamellirostres), and Pigeons; so likewise are Willows, Pines, and Oaks, widely diffused; the latter always exhibiting a similarity in their fruit, although various differences exist in the form of the leaves. In Willows belonging to the most widely different climates the similarity of the foliage, of the ramification, and of the whole physiognomical conformation, is almost greater 342than in Coniferæ. In the more southern part of the temperate zone, north of the equator, the number of the species of Willows decreases considerably; although (according to the “Flora atlantica” of Desfontaines) Tunis has still its own species, resembling Salix caprea; whilst Egypt, according to Forskäl, numbers five species, from the catkins of whose male blossoms is distilled the remedial agent Moie chalaf (aqua salicis), so much used in the East. The Willow which I saw in the Canaries is also, according to Leopold von Buch and Christian Smith, a peculiar species (S. canariensis), although common to those islands and to Madeira. Wallich’s catalogue of the plants of Nepaul and the Himalaya already gives 13 species belonging to the subtropical zone of the East Indies, and which have in part been described by Don, Roxburgh, and Lindley. Japan has its own species, of which one, S. japonica. (Thunb.), is also met with in Nepaul as an Alpine plant.

There was not, as far as I am aware, any species of Willow known as belonging to the tropical zone before my expedition, with the exception of S. tetrasperma. We collected seven new species, three of them on the plateaux of Mexico, at an elevation of 8500 feet above the level of the sea. Still higher, as for instance on the Alpine plains, between 12,000 and 15,000 feet, which we frequently visited, we saw nothing in the Andes of Mexico, Quito, and Peru, to remind us of the many small creeping Alpine Willows of the Pyrenees, the Alps, or of Lapland (S. herbacea, S. lanata, and S. reticulata). In Spitzbergen, whose meteorological relations have so much analogy with those of the snow-crowned summits of Switzerland and Scandinavia, Martius described two Dwarf-Willows, whose small woody stems and branches trail along the ground, and are so concealed in the turf-bogs that it is with difficulty their diminutive leaves can be discovered under the moss. The Willow species which I found in 4° 12′ south lat., at the entrance of the Cinchona or Peruvian Bark forests, near Loxa in Peru, and which has been described by Willdenow as Salix Humboldtiana, is most widely diffused over the western part of South America. A Beach-Willow (S. falcata), which we discovered on the sandy shores of the Pacific, near Truxillo, is, according to Kunth, probably a mere variety of the former. In like manner the beautiful and frequently pyramidal Willow, which we constantly saw 343on the banks of the Magdalena river, from Mahates to Bojorque, and which, according to the report of the natives, had only spread thus far within a few years, may also be identical with S. Humboldtiana. At the confluence of the Magdalena with the Rio Opon, we found all the islands covered with Willows, many of which had stems 64 feet high, with a diameter of from only 8 to 10 inches.^[QU] Lindley has made us acquainted with a species of Salix belonging to Senegal, and therefore to the equinoctial region of Africa.^[QV] Blume also found two species of Willow near the equator in Java, one wild and indigenous in the island (S. tetrasperma), and another cultivated (S. Sieboldiana). I am only acquainted with the two Willows belonging to the south temperate zone, which have been described by Thunberg (S. hirsuta and S. mucronata). They grow interspersed with Protea argentea, which has the same physiognomy as the Willow, and their leaves and young branches constitute the food of the hippopotamus of the Orange River. The family of Willows is entirely wanting in Australia and the neighbouring islands.

101. p. 229—“The Myrtle Form.”

The Myrtle is a graceful plant, with stiff, shining, crowded, and generally entire and small leaves marked with dots. Myrtles impart a peculiar character to three regions of the earth, viz., to southern Europe, more especially to the islands composed of calcareous rocks and trachytic stone, which project from the basin of the Mediterranean; to the continent of New Holland, which is adorned with Eucalyptus, Metrosideros, and Leptospermum; and to an inter-tropical region in the Andes of South America, part of which is a low plain, while the remainder lies at an elevation of from 9000 to more than 10,000 feet above the level of the sea. This Alpine region, called in Quito the Paramos, is entirely covered with trees having a Myrtle-like aspect, even though they may not all belong to the Myrtaceæ. At this elevation grow Escalonia myrtilloides, E. tubar, Simplocos Alstonia, species of Myrica, and the lovely Myrtus microphylla, of which we have given a drawing in our Plantes équinoxiales, t. i. p. 21, pl. iv.; it grows on micaceous schist, at an elevation of 10,000 feet on the Paramo de Saraguru, (near Vinayacu and Alto de 344Pulla,) which is adorned with so many beautiful flowering Alpine plants. M. myrsinoides ascends in the Paramo de Guamani as high as 11,200 feet. By far the greater number of the 40 species of the genus Myrtus which we collected in the equinoctial zone, and of which 37 were undescribed, belong to the plains and the less elevated mountain spurs. We brought only a single species (M. xalapensis) from the mild tropical climate of the mountains of Mexico; but the Tierra templada, in the direction of the Volcano of Orizaba, no doubt possesses many yet undescribed varieties. We found M. maritima near Acapulco, on the very shore of the Pacific.

The Escalloniæ,—among which E. myrtilloides, E. tubar, E. floribunda are the ornaments of the Paramos, and remind us strongly (by their physiognomical aspect) of the myrtle-form,—formerly constituted, together with the European and South American Alpine roses (Rhododendrum and Befaria), with Clethra, Andromeda, and Gaylussacia buxifolia, the family of the Ericeæ. Robert Brown^[QW] has arranged them in a special family, which Kunth has placed between the Philadelphiæ and Hamamelideæ. Escallonia floribunda affords by its geographical distribution one of the most striking examples of the relation existing between distance from the equator and vertical elevation above the level of the sea. I would here again borrow support from the testimony of the accurate observer, my friend Auguste de St. Hilaire.^[QX] “MM. Humboldt and Bonpland in their expedition discovered Escallonia floribunda in 4° south lat. at an elevation of 8952 feet. I found the same plant in 21° south lat. in Brazil, which although elevated is very much less so than the Andes of Peru. This plant is of common occurrence between 24° 50′ and 25° 55′ in the Campos Geraes, and I also met with it again on the Rio de la Plata in about 35° lat., on a level with the sea.”

The group of the Myrtaceæ,—to which belong Melaleuca, Metrosideros, and Eucalyptus, commonly classed under the general denomination of Leptospermeæ,—produce partially, wherever the true leaves are supplied by phyllodia (petiole-leaves), or where the direction of the leaves is inclined towards the unexpanded petiole, a distribution of streaks of light 345and shade wholly unknown in our deciduous-leaved forest. We find that the earliest botanical travellers who visited New Holland were astonished at the singular effect thus produced. Robert Brown was the first to show that this phenomenon depends on the vertical direction of the expanded petioles (the phyllodia of Acacia longifolia and Acacia suaveolens), and on the circumstance, that the light, instead of falling on horizontal surfaces, passes between vertical ones.^[QY] Morphological laws in the development of the leaves determine the peculiar character of the varying light and shade. “Phyllodia,” says Kunth, “can in my opinion merely occur in families which have compound pinnate leaves; and in fact they have as yet only been met with in Leguminosæ (in the Acacias). In Eucalyptus, Metrosideros, and Melaleuca, the leaves are simple (simplicia), and their edgewise position depends on a half-turn of the leaf-stalk (petiolus); moreover, it must be remarked, that both surfaces of the leaves are of a similar character.” In the scantily shaded forests of New Holland the optical effects here alluded to are the more frequent, since two groups of Myrtaceæ and Leguminosæ, species of Eucalyptus and Acacia, there constitute nearly one-half of all the greyish-green tree vegetation. Moreover, between the bast-layers of Melaleuca, there are formed easily soluble membranes, which force their way outwards, and by their whiteness reminds us of our birch bark.

The sphere of distribution of the Myrtaceæ is very different in the two continents. In the New Continent, and especially in its western parts, this family, according to Joseph Hooker,^[QZ] scarcely extends beyond the parallel of 26° north lat., while in the Southern Hemisphere, there are in Chili, according to Claude Gay, ten species of Myrtle and twenty-two of Eugenia, which mixed with Proteaceæ (Embothrium and Lomatia) and with Fagus obliqua, there constitute forests. The Myrtaceæ become more frequent from the 38th degree of south lat.; in the island of Chiloe, where a metrosideros-like species (Myrtus stipularis) forms almost impenetrable underwood, which is there named Tepuales; and in Patagonia to the extremity of Tierra del Fuego in 56° lat. 346While in Europe the Myrtaceæ do not extend northward further than 46° lat., they penetrate in Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand and the Auckland Islands to 50½° south latitude.

102. p. 229—“Melastomaceæ.”

This group comprises the genera Melastoma (Fothergilla and Tococa Aub. and Rhexia (Meriana and Osbeckia), of which we have collected no less than sixty new species in tropical America alone, on both sides of the equator. Bonpland has published a splendid work on the Melastomaceæ, in two volumes, with coloured plates. There are species of Rhexia and Melastoma which ascend in the chain of the Andes, as Alpine or Paramos shrubs, to 9600 and even more than 11,000 feet above the level of the sea; as for instance Rhexia cernua, R. stricta, Melastoma obscurum, M. aspergillare, and M. lutescens.

103. p. 229—“The Laurel-form.”

To this form belong Laurus, Persea, the Ocoteæ, so numerous in South America, and,—on account of their physiognomic similarity,—Calophyllum, also the splendidly aspiring Mammea from the Guttiferæ.

104. p. 229—“How instructive to the landscape-painter would be a work which should illustrate the leading forms of vegetation.”

In order to define with more distinctness what I have here only briefly referred to, I may be permitted to incorporate the following considerations from my sketch of a history of landscape painting, and of a graphical representation of the physiognomy of plants.^[RA]

“All that relates to the expression of the passions and the beauty of the human form has perhaps attained its fullest development in the temperate northern zone under the skies of Greece and Italy. The artist, drawing from the depths of imagination, no less than from the contemplation of beings of his own species, derives the types of historical painting alike from unfettered creation and from truthful imitation. Landscape painting, though scarcely a more imitative art, has a more material basis, and a more earthly tendency. It requires for its development a greater amount of various and distinct 347impressions, which, when imbibed from external contemplation, must be fertilized by the powers of the mind in order to be presented to the senses of others as a creative work of art. The grander style of heroic landscape-painting is the combined result of a profound appreciation of nature, and of this inward process of the mind.

“Everywhere, in every separate portion of the earth, nature is indeed only a reflex of the whole. The forms of organization recur again and again in different combinations. Even the icy north is cheered for months together by the presence of herbs and large Alpine blossoms covering the earth, and by a mild azure sky. Hitherto landscape painting among us has pursued her graceful labours familiar only with the simpler forms of our native floras, but not therefore without depth of feeling and richness of creative fancy. Dwelling only on the native and indigenous form of our vegetation, this branch of art, notwithstanding that it has been circumscribed by such narrow limits, has yet afforded sufficient scope for highly-gifted painters, such as the Caracci, Gaspar Poussin, Claude Lorraine, and Ruysdael, to produce the happiest and most varied creations of art, by their magical power of managing the grouping of trees, and the effects of light and shade. That progress which may still be expected in art, from a more animated intercourse with the tropical world, and from ideas engendered in the mind of the artist by the contemplation of Nature in her grandest forms, will never diminish the fame of the old masters. I have alluded to this, to recal the ancient bond which unites a knowledge of Nature with poetry and a taste for art. For in landscape painting, as in every other branch of art, a distinction must be drawn between the elements generated by a limited field of contemplation and direct observation, and those which spring from the boundless depth of feeling, and from the force of idealising mental power. The grand conceptions which landscape painting, as a more or less inspired branch of the poetry of nature, owes to the creative power of the mind, are, like man himself, and the imaginative faculties with which he is endowed, independent of place. These remarks especially refer to the gradations in the form of trees from Ruysdael and Everdingen, through the works of Claude Lorraine, to Poussin and Annibal Caracci. In the great masters of art there is no 348indication of local limitation. But an extension of the visible horizon, and an acquaintance with the nobler and grander forms of nature, and with the luxuriant fulness of life in tropical regions, afford the advantage of not simply enriching the material groundwork of landscape-painting, but also of inducing more vivid impressions in the minds of less highly gifted painters, and thus heightening their powers of artistic creation.”

105. p. 230—“From the thick and rough bark of the Crescentiæ and Gustaviæ.”

In Crescentia Cujete (the Tutuma tree, whose large fruit-shells are so indispensable to the natives as household utensils), in Cynometra, the Cacao-tree (Theobroma), and the Perigara Gustavia (Linn.), the tender blossoms burst forth from the half-carbonized bark. When children eat the fruit of the Pirigara speciosa (the Chupo), their whole bodies become tinged with yellow; and this jaundice, after a continuance of from twenty-four to thirty-six hours, disappears without the use of medicine.

An indelible impression was produced on my mind by the luxuriant power of vegetation in the tropical world, when, on entering a Cacao plantation (Caca hual), in the Valles de Aragua, after a damp night, I saw for the first time large blossoms springing from the root of a Theobroma, deeply imbedded in the black soil. This is one of the most instantaneous manifestations of the activity of the vegetative force of organisation. Northern nations speak of “the awakening of Nature at the first genial breath of Spring;”—expressions that strongly contrast with the imaginative complaint of the Stagirite, who regarded vegetable forms as buried in a “still sleep, from which there is no awakening, and free from the desires that excite to spontaneous motion.”^[RB]

106. p. 230—“Draw on their heads as caps.”

These are the flowers of our Aristolochia cordata, to which reference has been made in Illustration 25. The largest flowers in the world, besides those belonging to the Compositæ (the Mexican Helianthus annuus), are produced by Rafflesia Arnoldi, Aristolochia, Datura, Barringtonia, Gustavia, Carolinea, Lecythis, Nymphæa, Nelumbium, Victoria Regina, Magnolia, Cactus, the Orchideæ, and the Liliaceous forms.

107. 349p. 231—“The luminous worlds which spangle the firmament from pole to pole.”

The more magnificent portion of the southern sky, in which shine the constellations of the Centaur, Argo, and the Southern Cross, where the Magellanic clouds shed their pale light, is for ever concealed from the eyes of the inhabitants of Europe. It is only under the equator that man enjoys the glorious spectacle of all the stars of the southern and northern heavens revealed at one glance. Some of our northern constellations,—as, for instance, Ursus Major and Ursus Minor,—owing to their low position when seen from the region of the equator, appear to be of a remarkable, almost fearful magnitude. As the inhabitant of the tropics beholds all stars, so too, in regions where plains, deep valleys, and lofty mountains are alternated, does Nature surround him with representatives of every form of vegetation.

In the foregoing sketch of a “Physiognomy of Plants,” I have endeavoured to keep in view three nearly allied subjects,—the absolute diversity of forms; their numerical relations, i.e. their local preponderance in the whole number of phanerogamic floras; and their geographical and climatic distribution. If we would rise to a general view regarding vital forms;—the physiognomy, the study of the numerical relations (the arithmetic of botany), and the geography of plants (the study of the local zones of distribution), cannot, as it seems to me, be separated from one another. The study of the physiognomy of plants must not be exclusively directed to the consideration of the striking contrasts of form which the larger organisms present, when considered separately; but it must rise to the recognition of the laws which determine physiognomy of nature generally, the picturesque character of vegetation over the whole surface of the earth, and the vivid impression produced by the grouping of contrasted forms in different zones of latitude and elevation. It is when concentrated into this focus that we first clearly perceive the close and intimate connection existing between the subjects treated of in the preceding pages. We have here entered upon a field of inquiry hitherto but little cultivated. I have ventured to follow the method first propounded with such brilliant results in Aristotle’s zoological works, and which is so especially adapted to establish scientific confidence,—a method in which 350the incessant effort to arrive at a generalisation of ideas supported by individual illustrations, is associated with an endeavour to penetrate to the specialities of phenomena.

The enumeration of forms is, from the physiognomical difference of their nature, incapable of any strict classification. Here, as everywhere in the consideration of external forms, there are certain main types which present the strongest contrasts,—as the groups of the Arborescent Grasses, the Aloe form and the species of Cactus, Palms, Acicular-leaved trees, Mimosaceæ, and Bananas. Even scantily dispersed individuals belonging to these groups determine the character of a district, and produce a lasting impression on the mind of the unscientific but susceptible beholder. Other forms, perhaps more numerous and preponderating, may not appear equally marked either by the shape or position of the leaves; the relation of the stem to the branches, luxuriant vigour, animation, and grace; or even by the melancholy contraction of the leaf-organs.

As, therefore, a physiognomical classification, or a distribution into groups according to external appearance, does not admit of being applied to the whole vegetable kingdom collectively, the basis on which such a classification should be grounded must necessarily be wholly different from that which has been so happily chosen for the establishment of our comprehensive systems of the natural families of plants. Vegetable physiognomy grounds its divisions and the choice of its types on all that possesses mass,—as the stem, branches, and appendicular organs (the form, position, and size of the leaf, the character and brilliancy of the parenchyma), and consequently on all that is now included under the special term, the organs of vegetation, and on which depend the preservation (nourishment and development) of the individual; while systematic botany, on the other hand, bases the arrangement of the natural families of plants on a consideration of the organs of propagation, on which depends the preservation of the species.^[RC] It was already taught in the school of Aristotle,^[RD] that the generation of seed is the ultimate aim of the being and life of a plant. The process of development in the organs of fructification has become, since Caspar Fried. Wolf,^[RE] and 351our great poet Goëthe, the morphological basis of all systematic botany.

This science and that also of vegetable physiognomy proceed, I would here again observe, from two different points of view; the former depending upon an accordance in the inflorescence and in the reproduction of the delicate sexual organs; the latter on the conformation of the parts constituting the axes (the stem and branches) and on the outline of the leaves, which are mainly determined by the distribution of the vascular bundles. As, moreover, the stem and branches, together with their appendicular organs, predominate by mass and volume, they determine and strengthen the impression we receive, while they individualize the physiognomical character of the vegetation, as well as that of the landscape or the zone in which some distinguished types occur. The law is here expressed by the accordance and affinity in the marks appertaining to the vegetative, i.e. the nutritient organs. In all European colonies the inhabitants have been led by resemblances of physiognomy (habitus, facies) to apply the names of European forms to certain tropical plants, which bear wholly different flowers and fruits from the genera to which these designations originally referred. Everywhere in both hemispheres, the northern settler has believed he could recognise Alders, Poplars, Apple and Olive trees; being misled for the most part by the form of the leaves and the direction of the branches. The charm associated with the remembrance of native forms has strengthened the illusion, and European names of plants have thus been perpetuated from generation to generation in the slave colonies, where they have been further enriched by denominations borrowed from the negro languages.

A remarkable phenomenon is presented by the contrast frequently observed to arise from a striking accordance in physiognomy, coupled with the greatest difference in the organs of inflorescence and fructification—between the external form as determined by the appendicular or leaf-system, and the sexual organs on which are based the various groups of the natural systems of botany. One would be disposed à priori to believe that the aspect of vegetative organs (leaves) exclusively so called, must depend upon the structure of the organs of reproduction, but this dependence has only been observed in a very small number of families, as Ferns, Grasses, Cyperaceæ, Palms, Coniferæ, Umbelliferæ, and 352Aroideæ. In the Leguminosæ this accordance between the physiognomical character and the inflorescence can scarcely be recognized, excepting where they are separated into groups (as Papilionaceæ, Cæsalpinineæ, and Mimosaceæ.) The types which exhibit, when compared together, a very different structure of inflorescence and fructification, notwithstanding external accordance in physiognomy, are Palms and Cycadeæ, the latter being most nearly allied to the Coniferæ; Cucusta, belonging to the Convolvulaceæ, and the leafless Cassytha, a parasitical Laurinea; Equisetum (from the division of the Cryptogamia) and Ephedra (a coniferous tree). The Grossulareæ (Ribes) are so nearly allied by their efflorescence to Cactuses, i. e. the family of the Opuntiaceæ, that it is only very lately that they have been separated from them! One common family (that of the Asphodeleæ) comprises the gigantic tree, Dracœna Draco, the Common Asparagus, and the coloured flowering Aletris. Simple and compound leaves frequently belong not only to the same family, but even to the same genus. We found in the elevated plateaux of Peru and New Granada among twelve new species of Weinmannia, five with simple, and the remainder with pinnate leaves. The genus Aralia exhibits yet greater independence in the leaf-form, which is either simple, entire, lobed, digitate, or pinnate.^[RF]

Pinnate leaves appear to me to belong especially to those families which occupy the highest grade of organic development, as for instance, the Polypetalœ; among perigynic plants, the Leguminosæ, Rosaceæ, Terebinthaceæ, and Juglandeæ; among hypogynic plants the Aurantiaceæ, Cedrelaceæ, and Sapindaceæ. The elegant form of the doubly pinnate leaf, which constitutes so great an adornment of the torrid zone, is most frequently met with among the Leguminosæ; among the Mimosaceæ, and also among some Cæsalpinias, Coulterias and Gleditschias; but never, as Kunth has observed, among the Papilionaceæ.

The form of pinnate, and more especially of compound leaves, is unknown in Gentianeæ, Rubiaceæ, and Myrtaceæ. In the morphological development presented by the richness and varied aspect of the appendicular organs of dicotyledons, we are only able to recognize a very small number of general laws.

108. P. 363.—“A more complete determination of the margins of the Crater of Mount Vesuvius.”

My astronomical fellow-labourer, Oltmanns, who was unhappily too early lost to science, has re-calculated the barometric measurements I made on Mount Vesuvius (from the 22nd to the 25th of November, and on the 1st of December, 1822), and compared the results with those yielded by the measurements given to me in manuscript by Lord Minto, Visconti, Monticelli, Brioschi, and Poulett Scrope.

Some of my measurements have appeared in Monticelli’s Storia de’ fenomeni del Vesuvio, avvenuti negli anni 1821–1823, p. 115, but owing to the correction of the height of the mercury in the cistern having been omitted, the numbers are not given with perfect exactness. When it is remembered that the results contained in the above table were obtained with barometers of very different construction, at different hours of the day, during the prevalence of various winds, and on the unequally heated declivity of a volcano, in a locality where the decrease of the atmospheric temperature 378differs very considerably from that assumed in our barometrical formulæ, the amount of correspondence between the various results will appear sufficiently satisfactory.

My measurements of 1822, at the time of the Congress of Verona, when I accompanied the late King to Naples, were conducted with more care and under more favourable circumstances than those of 1805. Differences of elevations are moreover always preferable to absolute elevations. These differences show, that since 1794, the relative condition of the margins of the Rocca del Palo and of that towards Bosche Tre Case had remained almost the same. I found, in 1805, for the height, 441, and in 1822, nearly 524 feet. A distinguished geologist, Mr. Poulett Scrope, obtained 473 feet, although his absolute heights for these two margins of the crater appear somewhat too low. So inconsiderable a variation in a period of twenty-eight years, and during violent disturbances in the interior of the mountain, is undoubtedly a remarkable phenomenon.

The height to which the cones of scoriæ rise from the bottom of the crater at Vesuvius also deserves special attention. Shuckburgh found in 1776 a cone of this nature to be 3932 feet above the level of the Mediterranean; and, according to Lord Minto—a remarkably exact observer—the cone of scoriæ which fell in on the 22nd of October, 1822, was even 4156 feet high. On both occasions therefore the cone of scoriæ in the crater exceeded the highest point of the margin of the crater. On comparing the measurements of Rocca del Palo from 1773 to 1822, one is almost involuntarily led to hazard the bold conjecture that the northern margin of the crater has been gradually upheaved by subterranean forces. The correspondence of the three measurements made between 1773 and 1805 is almost as striking as in those between 1816 and 1822. No doubt can be entertained as to the height being from 3970 to 4021 feet during the latter period. Ought less confidence to be attached to the measurements made thirty or forty years previously, and which only gave from 3875 to 3894 feet? After a longer lapse of time the question may be decided, as to how much is attributable to errors of measurement, and how much to the upheaval of the margin of the crater. There is here no accumulation of loose masses from above; if therefore the solid trachytic lava 379strata of the Rocca del Palo actually rise, we must assume that they are upheaved from below by volcanic forces.

My learned and indefatigable friend, Oltmanns, has published the details of all these measurements with critical remarks.^[RH] Would that this work might incite geognosists to enter upon a series of hypsometric observations, by which, in the course of time, Vesuvius, which is, excepting Stromboli, the most accessible of all European volcanos, may be thoroughly understood in all periods of its development.

109. p. 371—“At elevations where the pressure is less.”

Compare Leopold von Buch on the Peak of Teneriffe, in his Physikalische Beschreibung der canarischen Inseln, 1825, s. 213, and in the Abhandlungen der königl. Akademie zu Berlin, aus den J. 1820–21, s. 99.

110. p. 373—“Springs which rise from different depths.”

Compare Arago in the Annuaire du Bureau des Longitudes pour 1835, p. 234. The increase of the temperature is in our latitudes 1° Fahr. for nearly every 54 feet. In the Artesian boring at the New Salt-works (Oeynhausen’s Bath) near Minden, which is the greatest known depth that has been reached below the surface of the sea, the temperature of the water at 2231 feet, is fully 91° Fahrenheit, whilst the mean upper temperature of the air may be assumed at 49°·3 Fahr. It is very remarkable that, even in the third century, Saint Patricius, bishop of Pertusa, should have been led, from the thermal springs near Carthage, to form a very correct view of such an increase of heat.^[RI]

111. p. 390—“On the Ridge of the Andes or Antis.”

The Inca Garcilaso, who was well acquainted with the native language of his country, and who loved to trace etymologies, invariably calls the chain of the Andes, “las Montañas de los Antis.” He states positively that the great mountain-chain, eastward of Cuzco, derives its name from the race of the Antis and from the province Anti, which was situated to the east of the capital of the Incas. The quaternary divisions of the Peruvian empire, according to the four cardinal points, reckoning from Cuzco, did not derive their names from the very circumstantial words (having reference to the sun) which in the Quichua language signify east, west, north, and south (intip llucsinanpata, intip yaucunanpata, intip chaututa chayananpata, intip chaupunchau chayananpata). Those divisions were named from provinces and races of people (Provincias llamadas Anti, Cunti, Chincha y Colla) situated to the east, west, north, and south, with reference to the city of Cuzco, which was the centre of the empire. The four divisions of the Inca theocracy were accordingly named Antisuyu, Cuntisuyu, Chinchasuyu, and Collasuyu; the word Suyu signifying strip or part. Notwithstanding the great distance between them, Quito belonged to Chinchasuyu; and in proportion as the Incas, by their religious wars, extended their faith, their language, and their despotic government, these Suyus acquired greater dimensions and became more unequal in magnitude. With the names of the provinces was thus associated an indication of their position; and “to name those provinces,” observes Garcilaso, “was the same as to say to the east or to the west.” (Nombrar aquellos Partidos era lo mismo que decir al Oriente, ó al Poniente.) The snow-chain of the Andes was regarded as an eastern chain. “La Provincia Anti da nombra á las Montañas de los Antis. Llamáron à la parte del Oriente Antisuyu, por la qual tambien llaman Anti á toda aquella gran Cordillera de Sierra Nevada que pasa al Oriente del Peru, por dar á entender, que está al 422Oriente.” (Commentarios Reales, p. i. pp. 47, 122.)^[RR] Later writers have supposed the name of the Andes chain to be derived from the word Anta, which, in the Quichua language, signifies copper. That metal was indeed of the highest importance to a people who for their edged-tools or cutting instruments, employed not iron, but a sort of copper mixed with tin; but still the name of copper mountains would scarcely have been extended over so vast a chain. Professor Buschmann has justly observed, that the final “a” is retained in the word anta when it forms part of a compound; and Garcilaso expressly adduces as an example anta, copper, and antamarca, province of copper. Moreover in the ancient language of the Inca empire (the Quichua), words and their compounds are so simple in formation that the conversion of “a” into “i” out of the question; so that Anta, copper, and Anti or Ante (the country or an inhabitant of the Andes or the mountain-chain itself) must be regarded as words totally distinct from each other. In dictionaries of the Quichua language, with explanations in Spanish, the word Anti or Ante has the following interpretations: la tierra de los Andes;—el Indio, hombre de los Andes;—la Sierra de los Andes. The original signification or derivation of the word is buried in the darkness of past ages. Besides Antisuyu, some other compounds of which Anti or Ante forms a part, are, Anteruna (the native inhabitant of the Andes), Anteunccuy or Antionccoy (the sickness of the Andes; mal de los Andes pestifero.)

112. p. 390—“The Countess de Chinchon.”

This lady was the wife of the Viceroy Don Geronimo Fernandez de Cabrera, Bobadilla y Mendoza, Conde de Chinchon, who governed Peru from 1629 to 1639. The cure of the Vice-Queen took place in the year 1638. A tradition which is current in Spain, but which I have frequently heard contradicted in Loxa, names Juan Lopez de Cañizares, Corregidor of the Cabildo de Loxa, as the person by whom the 423Quina (Cinchona) bark was first brought to Lima, and universally recommended as a medicine. In Loxa, I have heard it affirmed that the salutary properties of the tree were long previously, though not generally, known in the mountainous regions. Immediately after my return to Europe, I expressed doubts whether the discovery had really been made by the natives in the vicinity of Loxa, for the Indians in the neighbouring valleys, where intermittent fevers are very prevalent, have an aversion to the Quina bark.^[RS] The story which sets forth that the natives learned the virtues of the Cinchona from the lions, “who cure themselves of intermittent fever by gnawing the bark of the Quina tree,”^[RT] appears to be merely a monkish fiction, and wholly of European origin. No such disease as the lion’s fever is known in the New Continent; for the so-called great American lion (Felis concolor) and the small mountain lion (the Puma, whose footmarks I have seen on the snow) are never tamed, consequently never become the subjects of observation. Nor are the various species of the feline race, in either continent, accustomed to gnaw the bark of trees. The name “Countess’s Powder” (Pulvis Comitissæ) originated in the circumstance of the bark having been dealt out as a medicine by the Countess de Chinchon. But this name was subsequently metamorphosed into “Cardinal’s” or “Jesuit’s” Powder, because Cardinal de Lugo, Procurator-General of the Order of the Jesuits, made known the medicine, whilst he was on a journey through France, and recommended it the more urgently to Cardinal Mazarin, as the brethren of the Order were beginning to carry on a profitable trade in the South American Quina bark, which they contrived to obtain through their missionaries. It is scarcely necessary to mention that Protestant physicians suffered themselves sometimes to be influenced by religious intolerance and hatred of the Jesuits, in the long controversy that was maintained, respecting the good or evil effects of the fever bark.

113. p. 393—“Aposentos de Mulalo.”

The Aposentos are dwellings or inns. They are called in 424the Quichua language Tampu, whence the Spanish term Tambo (an inn). On the subject of these Aposentos see Cieça’s Chronica del Peru (cap. 41 ed. de 1544, p. 108), and my Vues des Cordillères (Pl. xxiv).

114. p. 394—“The fortress of the Cañar.”

This fortress is situated near Turche, and at an elevation of about 10,640 feet.^[RU] Not far distant from the Fortaleza del Cañar is situated the celebrated ravine of the sun, called the Inti-Guaycu (in the Quichua language huaycco). In this ravine there are some rocks on which the natives imagine they see the image of the sun, and a bench called the Inga-Chungana (Incachuncana), the Inca’s play. I made drawings of both. (Vues des Cord., pl. xviii. et xix.)

115. p. 394—“Causeways covered with cemented gravel.”

See Velasco’s Historia de Quito, 1844, (t. i. p. 126–128), and Prescott’s History of the Conquest of Peru, (vol. i. p. 157.)

116. p. 395—“Flights of Steps.”

See Pedro Sancho in Ramusio, vol. iii. fol. 404, and the Extracts from Manuscript Letters of Hernando Pizarro, of which Mr. Prescott, the great historical writer, now at Boston, has so advantageously availed himself (vol. i. p. 444). “El camino de las sierras es cosa de ver, porque en verdad en tierra tan fragosa en la cristiandad no se han visto tan hermosos caminos, toda la mayor parte de calzada.”^[RV]

117. p. 396—“Greeks, Romans, &c., present examples of these contrasts.”

“The Greeks,” says Strabo, (lib. v. p. 235, Casaub,) “in building their cities sought to produce a happy result by aiming at the union of beauty and solidity; but, on the other hand, the Romans directed particular attention to objects which the Greeks neglected; paving the streets with stone, 425building aqueducts to provide a plentiful supply of water, and constructing drainage for carrying all the uncleanliness of the city into the Tiber. They likewise paved all the roads in the country, so that the merchandize brought by trading vessels might be conveniently transported from place to place.”

118. p. 397—“Nemterequeteba, the messenger of God.”

Civilization in Mexico (the Aztec country of Anahuac), and in that country which, in the Peruvian theocracy, was called the Empire of the Sun, has so rivetted the attention of Europe, that a third point of dawning civilization, the mountainous regions of New Granada, was long totally lost sight of. I have already treated this subject in some detail.^[RW] The government of the Muyscas of New Granada bore some resemblance to the constitution of Japan: the temporal ruler corresponded with the Cubo or Seogun at Jeddo, and the spiritual ruler was like the sacred Daïri at Meaco. The table-land of Bogota was called by the natives of the country Bacata, i. e., the utmost limit of the cultivated plains considered with reference to the mountain wall. When Gonzalo Ximenez de Quesada advanced thither he found the country ruled by three powers, whose relative subordination one to another is not now clearly understood. The spiritual chief was the electoral high priest of Iraca or Sogamoso (Sugamuxi, the place at which Nemterequeteba is said to have disappeared), the temporal princes were the Zake (Zaque of Hunsa or Tunja), and the Zipa of Funza. The last-named prince seems to have been, in the feudal constitution, originally subordinate to the Zake.

The Muyscas had a regular system of computing time, with intercalation for the amendment of the lunar year. For money they made use of small circular gold plates, cast, and all equal in diameter, (a circumstance worthy of remark, as traces of coinage even among the ancient and highly civilized Egyptians have hitherto been sought in vain). Their temples of the Sun were built with stone columns, some vestiges of which have recently been discovered in Leiva.^[RX] The race of 426the Muyscas should properly be distinguished by the denomination Chibchas; for Muysca, in the Chibcha language, merely signifies men or people. The origin and the elements of civilization, introduced among the Muyscas, were attributed to two mythical beings, Bochica and Nemterequeteba, who are frequently confounded one with another. Bochica was the most mythical of the two; having been in some degree regarded as divine and even equal to the Sun. His fair companion Chia or Huythaca occasioned, through her magical art, the submersion of the beautiful valley of Bogota, and for that reason she was banished from the earth by Bochica, and made to revolve round it as the moon. Bochica struck the rocks of Tequendama, and thereby opened a passage through which the waters flowed off in the neighbourhood of the Giants’ Field (Campo de Gigantes), where, at the elevation of 8792 feet above the level of the sea, the bones of elephant-like Mastodons have been discovered. It is stated by Captain Cochrane,^[RY] and by Mr. John Ranking,^[RZ] that animals like the Mastodon still live in the Andes, and that they cast their teeth. Nemterequeteba, surnamed Chinzapogua, (el enviado de Dios, the envoy of God,) was regarded as a human being. He is represented as a bearded man, who came from the East, from Pasca, and who disappeared at Sogamoso. The foundation of the sanctuary of Iraca is sometimes ascribed to Nemterequeteba and sometimes to Bochica. The latter, it would appear, also bore the name of Nemterequeteba, and, therefore, that the one should have been confounded with the other, on such unhistoric ground, is a circumstance easily accounted for.

My old friend Colonel Acosta, in his admirable work entitled Compendio de la Historia de la Nueva Granada, endeavours to show, through the evidence of the Quichua language, that New Granada is the native land of the potato plant. In the Compendio (p. 185), he observes, “that as the potato (Solanum tuberosum) is known in Usmè by the indigenous name Yomi, and not by the Peruvian name, and as it was found by Quesada, cultivated in the province of Velez in 4271537, a period when its introduction from Chile, Peru, and Quito must have been improbable, the plant may be regarded as indigenous to New Granada.” It must, however, be borne in mind that the Peruvians had invaded Quito, and made themselves completely masters of it before 1525, in which year the death of the Inca Huayna Capac occurred. Indeed, the southern provinces of Quito fell under the dominion of Tupac Inca Yupanqui at the close of the fifteenth century.^[SA] The history of the first introduction of the potato into Europe is, unfortunately, involved in much obscurity, but the merit of the introduction is still very generally supposed to be due to Sir John Hawkins, who is said to have brought the plant from Santa Fé in the year 1563 or 1565. But a fact, which appears to be better authenticated, is, that the first potatoes grown in Europe were those planted by Sir Walter Raleigh on his estate at Youghal in Ireland, from whence they were conveyed to Lancashire. The Banana-tree (Musa), which, since the arrival of the Spaniards, has been cultivated in all the warmer parts of New Granada, is believed, by Colonel Acosta (p. 205), to have been known only in Choco before the Conquista. The name Cundinamarca, which by affected erudition was applied to the young republic of New Granada in the year 1811, a name suggestive of golden dreams (sueños dorados), would properly be Cundirumarca, not Cunturmarca.^[SB] Luis Daza, who accompanied the small invading army commanded by the Conquistador Sebastian de Belalcazar, who advanced from the south, mentions having heard of a distant country, rich in gold, and inhabited by the race of the Chicas. This country, Daza states, was called Cundirumarea, and its prince solicited auxiliary troops from Atahuallpa in Caxamarca. The Chichas have been confounded with the Chibchas or Muyscas of New Granada; and by a similar mistake the name of the unknown more southerly region has been transferred to this country.

119. p. 400—“Fall of the Rio de Chamaya.”

See my Recueil des Observ. Astron., vol. i. p. 304; Nivellement Barométrique, No. 236–242. I made a drawing of the 428swimming courier, representing him in the act of winding round his head the handkerchief containing the letters. See Vues des Cordillères, pi. xxxi.

120. p. 401—“A point of some importance to the geography of South America, on account of an old observation of La Condamine.”

My object was to connect chronometrically, Tomependa, (the starting-point of La Condamine’s journey) and other places on the Amazon river, geographically determined by him, with the town of Quito. La Condamine was in Tomependa in June, 1743; consequently, 59 years before I visited that place, which I found, after astronomical observations made during three consecutive nights, to be situated in south lat. 5° 31′ 28″, and west long. 78° 34′ 55″). By my observations, and a laborious recalculation of all those previously made, Oltmanns has shewn that until the time of my return to France the longitude of Quito had been erroneously determined, and that the error made a difference of full 50½ arc-minutes.^[SC] Jupiter’s satellites, lunar distances, and occultations afford a satisfactory accordance, and all the elements of the calculation are before the public. The too easterly longitude which had been determined for Quito was, by La Condamine, carried to Cuenca and the Amazon river. “Je fis,” says La Condamine, “mon premier essai de navigation sur un radeau (balsa) en descendant la rivière de Chinchipe jusqu’à Tomependa. Il fallut me contenter d’en déterminer la latitude et de conclure la longitude par les routes. J’y fis mon testament politique en rédigeant l’extrait de mes observations les plus importantes.”^[SD]

121. p. 403—“At the elevation of nearly 12,800 feet above the sea, we found marine fossils.”

See my Essai géognostique sur le Gisement des Roches, 1823, p. 236; and for the first zoological determination of the fossils contained in the cretaceous formation of the Andes chain, see Leopold de Buch, Pétrifications recueillies en Amérique par Alex. de Humboldt et Charles Degenhardt, 1839 (in fol.), pp. 2, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 18, 22. Pentland found 429fossil shells of the Silurian formation in Bolivia, and on the Nevado of Antakana at the elevation of 17,480 feet. (See Mary Somerville’s Physical Geography, 1849, vol. i. p. 185.)

122. p. 407—“The point at which the Andes-chain is intersected by the magnetic equator.”

See my Rélation Hist. du Voyage aux Régions Equinoxiales, t. iii. p. 622; and Cosmos, vol. i. pp. 191, 432; where, through errors of the press, the longitude is in one place marked 48° 40′, and in another 80° 40′, whereas it ought to be 80° 54′.

123. p. 409—“Tedious court ceremonies.”

Conformably with an ancient ceremonial, Atahuallpa spat, not on the ground, but into the hand of a distinguished lady of the Court circle. “This was done,” observes Garcilaso, “by reason of his majesty.” “El Inca nunca escupia en el suelo, sino en la mano de una Señora mui principal, por Magestad.” (Garcilaso, Comment. Reales, p. ii. p. 46.)

124. p. 410—“Captivity of Atahuallpa.”

The captive Inca was, at his own desire, a short time before he was put to death, conducted into the open air, for the purpose of seeing a large comet, described to have been of a greenish black hue, and nearly as thick as a man’s body; (“una cometa verdinegra, poco menos gruesa que el cuerpo de un hombre,” Garcilaso, p. ii. p. 44). This comet, which Atahuallpa saw shortly before his death, (therefore, in July or August, 1533), he supposed to be the same comet of evil omen, which had appeared at the death of his father Huayna Capac, and was certainly identical with that observed by Appian.^[SE] The comet was seen by Appian, on the 21st of July, standing high in the north, near the constellation of Perseus; and it appeared like a sword held by Perseus, in his right hand.^[SF] The year in which the Inca Huayna Capac 430died, is considered by Robertson not to be satisfactorily determined; but the investigations of Balboa and Velasco shew, that the event must have occurred about the end of 1525. The statements of Hevelius (Cométographie, p. 844), and of Pingré (vol. i. p. 485), obtain additional confirmation from the testimony of Garcilaso. (p. i. p. 321,) and the traditions preserved among the Amautas (“que son los filosofos de aquella republica”). I may here add the remark, that Oviedo is certainly incorrect in stating in the yet unpublished continuation of his “Historia de las Indias,” that the name of the Inca was not Atahuallpa, but Atabaliva. See Prescott’s Conquest of Peru, vol. i. p. 498.

125. p. 410—“Ducados de Oro,” (3,838,000 golden ducats.)

The sum mentioned in the text is that stated by Garcilaso de la Vega.^[SG] On this subject, however, Padre Blas Valera and Gomera give different accounts.^[SH] Moreover, it is difficult to ascertain the precise value of the Ducado Castellano or Peso de Oro.^[SI] The intelligent historian, Prescott, has had the opportunity of consulting a manuscript, bearing the promising title of “Acta de Reparticion del Rescate de Atahuallpa,” (Act of assessment for the ransom of Atahuallpa). The Peruvian booty shared by the brothers Pizarro and by Almagro, appears to be too highly estimated by Prescott, who says it amounted to 3,500,000l. sterling, but the ransom money, the treasures of the different temples of the Sun, and of the Huertas de Oro, were all included in that amount.^[SJ]

126. p. 412—“The great Huayna Capac, who, for a Child of the Sun, was somewhat disposed to free-thinking.”

The nightly disappearance of the sun excited, in the mind of the Inca, many philosophic doubts respecting the government of the world by that luminary. Among the Inca’s remarks on this subject, as recorded by Padre Bias Valera, are the following:—“Many maintain that the sun lives and is the 431creator and maker of all things (el hacedor de todas las cosas); but whosoever desires to do a thing completely must continue at his task without intermission. Now many things are done when the sun is absent, therefore, he cannot be the creator of all. It may also be doubted whether the sun be really living, for, though always moving round in a circle, he is never weary (no se cansa). If the sun were a living thing he would, like ourselves, become weary; and if he were free, he would, doubtless, sometimes move into parts of the heavens in which we never see him. The sun is like an ox bound by a rope, being obliged always to move in the same circle (como una Res atada que siempre hace un mismo cerco), or like an arrow which can only go where it is sent, and not where it may itself wish to go.” (Garcilaso, Comment. Reales, p. i. lib. viii. cap. 8, p. 276.) The Inca’s simple comparison of the circling movement of a heavenly body to that of an ox fastened by a rope is very curious, owing to a circumstance which may be explained here. Huayna Capac died at Quito in 1525 (seven years prior to the invasion of the Spaniards), and his empire was divided between Huascar and Atahuallpa. Now, in the native language of Peru, the name Huascar signifies rope, and Atahuallpa means a cock or a fowl. Instead of res Huayna Capac probably used the word signifying, in his native language, animal generally; but, even in Spanish, the word res is not applied exclusively to oxen, but is employed to denote cattle of all kinds. How far the Padre, with the view of weaning the natives from the dynastic service of the Inca, may have mingled passages from his own sermons with the heresies of the Inca, we need not here inquire. That it was deemed very important to keep these doubts from the knowledge of the lower classes of the people is evident, from the very conservative policy and the state maxims of the Inca Roca, the conqueror of the province of Charcas. This Inca founded schools exclusively for the higher classes, and, under heavy penalties, prohibited instruction being given to the common people, lest it should render them presumptuous, and cause them to disturb the State. (No es licito que enseñen á los hijos de los Plebeios las Ciencias, porque la gente baja no se eleve y ensobervezca y menoscabe la Republica; Garcilaso, p. i. p. 276.) Thus the theocracy of the Incas may be said to have resembled the Slave States in the free land of the North American Union.

127. 432p. 415—“Expected restoration of the Inca rule.”

I have treated this subject at length in another work.^[SK] Sir Walter Raleigh had heard of an old prophecy current in Peru, which foretold “that from Inglaterra those Ingas shoulde be againe in time to come restored and deliuered from the seruitude of the said conquerors. I am resolued that if there were but a small army afoote in Guiana marching towards Manoa, the chiefe citie of Inga, he would yield her Majesty by composition, so many hundred thousand pounds yearely, as should both defend all enemies abroad and defray all expenses at home, and that he woulde besides pay a garrison of 3000 or 4000 soldiers very royally to defend him against other nations. The Inca will be brought to tribute with great gladnes.”^[SL] A restoration project, which promised to be highly satisfactory to both parties, but, unfortunately for the success of the scheme, the dynasty which was to be restored and which was to pay for the restoration was wanting.

128. p. 418—“The adventurous expedition of Vasco Nuñez de Balboa.”

I have, in another work, mentioned the fact that Columbus, long before his death, full ten years prior to Balboa’s expedition, was aware of the existence of the South Sea, and its near proximity to the eastern coast of Veragua.^[SM] Columbus was led to the knowledge of this fact, not by theoretical speculations on the configuration of Eastern Asia, but by positive and local information obtained from the inhabitants themselves, information which he collected on his fourth voyage (11th May, 1502, to the 7th November, 1504). This fourth voyage led the Admiral from the coast of Honduras to the Puerto de Mosquitos, and even as far as the western extremity of the Isthmus of Panama. The natives reported (and Columbus commented on their reports in the Carta rarissima of the 7th of July, 1503), “that not far from the Rio de Belen, the other sea (the South Sea), turns 433(boxa) to the mouths of the Ganges; so that the countries of the Aurea (i.e., the Chersonesus Aurea of Ptolemy) are situated, in relation to the eastern shores of Veragua, as Tortosa (at the mouth of the Ebro) is in relation to Fuentarabia (on the Bidassoa) in Biscay, or as Venice in respect to Pisa.” But, although Balboa first saw the South Sea from the heights of the Sierra de Quarequa, on the 25th of September,^[SN] it was several days later before Alonzo Martin de Don Benito, who had discovered a passage from the mountains of Quarequa to the gulf of San Miguel, embarked on the South Sea in a canoe.^[SO]

The recent acquisition of the western coast of the New Continent by the United States of North America, and the fame of the golden treasures of New (now called Upper) California, have rendered the question of forming a direct communication between the shores of the Atlantic and the western regions, by the isthmus of Panama, more urgent than ever. I, therefore, consider it my duty here once more to direct attention to the fact, that the shortest route to the shores of the Pacific, as pointed out by the natives to Alonzo Martin de Don Benito, is in the eastern part of the Isthmus, and led to the Golfo de San Miguel. We know that Columbus^[SP] sought for a narrow pass (estrecho de tierra firme); and in the official documents extant, of the dates of 1505, 1507, and especially in that of 1514, mention is made of the sought-for opening (abertura), and of the pass (passo), which, in this district, should lead directly to the “Indian Land of Spices.” A channel of communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific, is a subject which has more or less occupied my attention for the space of forty years; and in my published works, as well as in the several memoirs which, with honourable confidence, the Free States of Spanish America have requested me to write, I have constantly recommended a hypsometrical survey of the Isthmus throughout its whole length, but more especially at two points, viz., where at Darien and what was formerly the deserted province of Biruquete, it joins the South American Continent, and where, 434between Atrato and the Bay of Cupica, on the shore of the Pacific, the mountain chain of the Isthmus almost entirely disappears.^[SQ]

In the year 1828 and 1829, General Bolivar, at my request, caused the Isthmus between Panama and the mouth of the Rio Chagres to be accurately levelled by Lloyd and Falmarc.^[SR] Since that time, other measurements have been executed by intelligent and experienced French engineers, and plans have been drawn out for canals and railways with locks and tunnels. But these measurements have invariably been made in the meridian direction between Porto-bello and Panama, or westward from thence, towards Chagres and Cruces. The most important points of the eastern and south-eastern parts of the Isthmus, on both shores, have in the meantime been overlooked. Until those parts shall be described geographically, according to accurate (but easily obtained) chronometrical determinations of latitude and longitude; and hypsometrically, with reference to their superficial conformation, by barometrical measurements and elevations, I see no reason to alter the views I have always entertained on this subject. Accordingly, at the present time (1849), I here repeat the opinion I have often before expressed; viz., that the assertion is groundless and altogether premature, that the Isthmus of Panama is unsuited to the formation of an Oceanic Canal—one with fewer sluices than the Caledonian Canal—capable of affording an unimpeded passage, at all seasons of the year, to vessels of that class which sail between New York and Liverpool, and between Chili and California.

According to examinations, the results of which the Directors of the Deposito Hidrografico of Madrid have caused to be inserted in all their maps since 1809, it appears that on the Antillean shore of the Isthmus, the creek called the Ensenada de Mandinga, stretches so far to the south that its distance from the Pacific shore, eastward of Panama, appears to be only between 4 and 5 German geographical miles (15 to 435an equatorial degree) or 16 to 20 English geographical miles. On the Pacific coast also, the deep Golfo de San Miguel, into which falls the Rio Tuyra, with its tributary the river Chuchunque (Chucunaque), runs far into the Isthmus. The river Chuchunque too, in the upper part of its course, runs within 16 geographical miles of the Antillean shore of the Isthmus, westward of Cape Tiburon. For upwards of twenty years I have been repeatedly consulted on the problem of the Isthmus of Panama, by companies having ample pecuniary means at their disposal; but in no instance has the simple advice I have given been followed. Every engineer who has been scientifically educated knows the fact that between the tropics, even without corresponding observations, good barometrical measurements (horary variations being taken into account) may be relied on as correct, within from 75 to 96 feet. Besides it would be easy to establish, for the space of a few months, one on each shore, two fixed barometric stations; and frequently to compare the portable instruments used in the preliminary levelling with each other, and with those at the fixed stations. The point demanding the most attentive examination is that where the range of mountains between the Isthmus and the main continent of South America sinks into hills. Considering the importance of this subject to the commercial interests of the whole world, the examination should not, as heretofore, be restricted within narrow bounds. A complete comprehensive survey, including the whole eastern part of the Isthmus—the results of which would be alike useful in facilitating every possible scheme, whether of canals or railroads—can alone decide the much discussed problem, either affirmatively or negatively. This work will in the end be undertaken, but had my advice been adopted, it would have been done at first.

129. p. 418—“Impressions excited by the accidental circumstances of life.”

In Cosmos I have adverted to the incitements to the Study of Nature. (Vol. ii. p. 371, Bohn’s edition.)

130. p. 420—“Of importance in determining the longitude of Lima.”

At the time of my expedition the longitude of Lima, 436as determined by Malaspina and marked in the maps published by the Deposito Hidrografico de Madrid, was 5^h 16′ 53″. The transit of Mercury over the Sun’s disc, on the 9th of November, 1802 (which I observed at Callao, the port of Lima, from the Round Tower of the Fort of San Felipe), gave for Callao, by the mean of the contact of both limbs, 5^h 18′ 16″ 5; by the external contact only, 5^h 18′ 18″ (79° 34′ 30″). This result, obtained from the transit of Mercury, has been confirmed by Lartigue and Duperrey; and by observations made during Capt. Fitzroy’s expeditions of the “Adventurer” and the “Beagle.” Lartigue fixed the longitude of Callao at 5^h 17′ 58″; Duperrey made it 5^h 18′ 16″; and Capt. Fitzroy 5^h 18′ 15″. After having calculated the longitudinal difference between Callao and the Convent of San Juan de Dios at Lima, by carrying chronometers from the one place to the other during four journeys, I found that the observations of the transit of Mercury determined the longitude of Lima to be 5^h 17′ 51″ (79° 27′ 45″ W. from Paris, or 77° 6′ 3″ W. from Greenwich.) See my Recueil d’observations astron., vol. ii. p. 397, and Relation hist., t. iii. p. 592.