d sandstone and follow
it to the foot of the Grand Canyon, which by river is a distance of 217
miles, it would be necessary to travel many thousand miles by the
winding Way; that is, the banded wall is many thousand miles in length.

Stand at some point on the brink of the Grand Canyon where you can
overlook the river, and the details of the structure, the vast labyrinth
of gorges of which it is composed, are scarcely noticed; the elements
are lost in the grand effect, and a broad, deep, flaring gorge of many
colors is seen. But stand down among these gorges and the landscape
seems to be composed of huge vertical elements of wonderful form. Above,
it is an open, sunny gorge; below, it is deep and gloomy. Above, it is a
chasm; below, it is a stairway from gloom to heaven.

The traveler in the region of mountains sees vast masses piled up in
gentle declivities to the clouds. To see mountains in this way is to
appreciate the masses of which they are composed. But the climber among
the glaciers sees the elements of which this mass is composed,--that it
is made of cliffs and towers and pinnacles, with intervening gorges, and
the smooth billows of granite seen from afar are transformed into cliffs
and caves and towers and minarets. These two aspects of mountain scenery
have been seized by painters, and in their art two classes of mountains
are represented: mountains with towering forms that seem ready to topple
in the first storm, and mountains in masses that seem to frown defiance
at the tempests. Both classes have told the truth. The two aspects are
sometimes caught by our painters severally; sometimes they are combined.
Church paints a mountain like a kingdom of glory. Bierstadt paints a
mountain cliff where an eagle is lost from sight ere he reaches the
summit. Thomas Moran marries these great characteristics, and in his
infinite masses cliffs of immeasurable height are seen.

Thus the elements of the facade of the Grand Canyon change vertically
and horizontally. The details of structure can be seen only at close
view, but grand effects of structure can be witnessed in great panoramic
scenes. Seen in detail, gorges and precipices appear; seen at a
distance, in comprehensive views, vast massive structures are presented.
The traveler on the brink looks from afar and is overwhelmed with the
sublimity of massive forms; the traveler among the gorges stands in the
presence of awful mysteries, profound, solemn, and gloomy.

F