On the State of Vegetation on high Mountains. f 73 



hills both on the side towards France and towards Spain. 

 These large valleys, lying north and south, open before it ; 

 there it enters, but never to issue from them :. in vain do 

 the ramifications of these valleys .present it on all sides other 

 valleys to people ; it passes over thes^e openings, and, con* 

 tinuing its route in the direction it has adopted, it ascends 

 from north to south, stops at; the bottom of the ridge of 

 the chain at about 2000 metres of absolute elevation, and, 

 reappearing on the other side atthe same height, descends 

 towards the south in the same direction from which it has 

 constantly refused to deviate. 



It is thus that the first designs of nature preserve more 

 determinate tracts in the mountains, where each order of 

 vegetables confines itself within limits better defined and 

 more difficult to be passed,, and where the influence of the 

 places resists more powerfully the influence" of secondary. 

 causes, which incessantly tend to confound what the pri- 

 mary causes had separated ; and even these numberless mo- 

 difications have been introduced by the lapse of ages, and 

 in particular by the presence of man. I traverse the im- 

 mense deserts of the lofty mountains : suddenly, among the 

 rare plants which compose their herbage, I discover some 

 of our trivial plants. The verdure assumes a darker tint,, 

 which forms a contrast with the bright green of the alpine 

 turf. I advance: the ruins of a hut, or a rock blackened by 

 the smoke, explain to me the mystery ; around this asylum 

 of man the plants which surround our rustic habitations- 

 have been naturalized ; the common mallow, the nettle, 

 the Anagallis arvensis, the chenopodium, and the common 

 patience; with which is mixed the patience of the Alps, as 

 the chamois are seen to approach the domestic goats. - A 

 shepherd has sojourned there several weeks, perhaps some 

 years. In conducting his flocks he has carried thither, 

 without knowing it, the birds and insects of the valleys, 

 the seecls and germs of his village. He will, perhaps, never 

 return thither ; but these savage countries have received in 

 a moment the indelible impression of the domination of 

 man. So much weight has a being of this importance in 

 the scale of nature 1 i 



In other places it is by destruction he has marked his 

 presence : on approaching the mountains, he has torn in 

 every part the immense veil of the forests which covered 

 their bases. The woods are not the habitation of man. He 

 dreads the windings of that vast labyrinth : he is suspicious 

 of its shades : he regrets the want or the sun, towards which 

 he turns a look of respectful hope : he never penetrates thi- 

 ther, 



