would
calculate whether or not the torrent that rushes foaming and glittering
down the mountain is too steep to serve a mill, or whether the smaller
mountains might not be levelled for building lots; or he would gaze upon
some beautiful table land with wonder indeed, but with wonder chiefly
how much wheat or barley there grows to the acre, or can be made to
grow. The table lands produce the grains and fruits of the temperate
zone; and, accordingly, proprietors who own, as many do, estates on the
tropical and on the temperate level, may supply their tables with fruits
from their own grounds, for which, in other countries, the world must be
brought under contribution. The soil is cultivated mainly by Indians.
Descendants of the ancient rulers of the land now till the fields of the
descendants of the conquerors.

Some, indeed, representing more or less the Indian part of the
population, are owners of estates; yet a full Indian rarely has lands of
his own. He is a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, tills the fields,
and performs most of the drudgery of the country. More South Americana
of Indian descent, out of the general population, have gained honor and
power than could possibly have done so under the confined and absolute
sway of the Incas. The Indians of all Spanish America have progressed,
however slowly and rudely, in the arts, labors, culture, and faith of
Christian civilization, and, in the aggregate, are in advance of the
Indians of Anglo-America.

Let the imagination survey the whole range of the Andes for their vast
extent of sixty degrees of latitude. On every level space are seen the
signs of culture and human habitation, fields green with the early
grain, or yellow with the harvest. The roads now wind through forests of
constant shade, even under the burning sun of the equator; now they turn
with gentle windings, or with steep abruptness, while below spread
bright and beautiful lands, and interesting the more because associated
with the homes and lives of men.

In the grandest scenery, some sign of man's abode will be grateful. No
one, indeed, whose soul has not been warped out of all likeness to the
Divine image which it once wore, can regard without abhorrence such
intrusions of noisy machinery into scenes of natural sublimity as,
for instance, have desecrated the neighborhood of Niagara Falls,
and which would have done so yet more, but for the energetic and
forever-praiseworthy resistance of the propr