ne to the great
teacher, Nature, who has shown them without stint the bright sun,
luminous sky, pearly dawns, hazy middays, glowing sunsets, shimmering
twilights, golden moons, rolling mists, fantastic clouds, wooded hills,
snow-capped peaks, waving grain fields, primeval forests, tender spring
foliage, gorgeous autumnal coloring, grand cataracts, leaping brooks,
noble rivers, clear lakes, bosky dells, lichen-covered crags, and varied
seacoasts of this western continent. Here is no lack of diversity, here
are studies in unity, both simple and complex, and here, too, even
civilized man need not necessarily be unpicturesque; witness Launt
Thompson's 'Trapper,' Rogers's bits of petrified history, or Eastman
Johnson's vivid delineations of scenes familiar to us all. We have no
reason to follow in any beaten, hackneyed track, but, within the needful
restrictions of good sense, good taste, and the teachings of nature, may
wander wherever the bent of our gifts may lead us. We may choose
sensational subjects, striking contrasts, with Church, follow the
exquisite traceries of shadow, of mountain top and fern-clad rock, with
Bierstadt, learn the secrets of the innermost souls of the brute
creation with Beard, revel in cool atmospheres and transparent waters
with Kensett, paint in light with Gifford, in poetry with McEntee, or
with Whittredge seek the tranquil regions of forest shade or quiet
interior.

In the examination of every work of art, we find three questions to be
asked: Has it something to say; is that something worth saying; is it
well said? In painting, poetry, music, sculpture, and architecture,
satisfactory replies must be given, or the mind refuses to recognize the
work under consideration as fulfilling the conditions necessary to
perfection within its individual range. Too often worthlessness of
meaning is hidden under exquisite execution, the most dangerous form an
aberration from the true principles of art can take, especially in an
age when the material receives an undue proportion of attention, and the
spirit is exposed to so many risks of being replaced by a false, outside
glitter. A worthy, noble, or beautiful idea, clad in a corresponding
form, is then the core of every art production; and although much of
which the fundamental idea is neither worthy, noble, nor beautiful, is
sometimes admired, yet the impression on the whole is painful, as would
be exquisite diction and entrancing eloquence flowing from the