hat he, who has
left the scene of earthly beauty which he so long and diligently
studied, may have had the joy to discern, in the sphere of celestial
order, the Cosmos of the skies, higher and deeper truths than external
nature can teach.

An American artist, Church, has portrayed with great force and beauty
some portions of the inspiring scenery of the Andes. Church's pictures
are avowedly compositions, and not transcripts of actual views; yet,
they are not more remarkable for ideal beauty than for truthfulness to
nature. Although no real scenes among the Andes correspond to his
painting, yet the glorious characteristics of the Andes are seen in
every line, in every color, in all the strange lights and shadows of his
paintings. Imagination, which sees at once the powers and proportions of
things, is, when joined to a feeling heart, the surest guide to him who
would describe natural truth, whether of the souls of men or of material
forms. The realists of art may not be so well satisfied with a
composition, as with the delineation, line by line, and point by point,
of a scene in nature; yet the more comprehensive critic will own that
universality will gain by the composition far more than local identity
can lose. By his imaginative skill, Church has portrayed in two or three
pictures those characteristics of scenery which, to be faithfully
delineated in copies from actual views, would require a hundred
paintings. This is alike his best defence and his highest praise.

In recalling my own observations among these noble mountains, and in
striving to express them in language, I feel how much higher is the
vantage ground of the painter. One may examine for hours the canvas,
until every scene is fixed on the memory as on the canvas itself. Yet I
will endeavor to give a general view of the scenery of the stupendous
Andes--stupendous truly, yet among those mountains are scenes of such
quiet beauty as to touch the heart as tenderly as softest music.

Scarcely a hundred miles from the Pacific Ocean arise some of the
highest peaks of the Andes, yet the way upward is much longer. From the
coast, or from the decks of ships sailing by it, may be seen, in clear
weather, some of the peaks of the mountains. On the shores, hazes and
mists often temper the tropical sun and obscure distant objects; but,
at early morning and evening, sometimes the great snowy dome of
Chimborazo may be seen afar, towering in majesty above the tropical
ver