415 



loped us in a thick fog, and put an end to this 

 animated conversation. We sought for shelter, 

 in the Venta del Guayavo. When we entered 

 the inn, an old man, who had spoken with the 

 most calmness, reminded the others how impru- 

 dent it was, in a time of denunciation, on the 

 mountain as well as in the city, to engage in 

 political discussions. These words, uttered in 

 a spot of so wild an aspect, made a lively im- 

 pression on my mind ; which was often renew- 

 ed during our journies in the Andes of New 

 Grenada and Peru. In Europe, where nati- 

 ons decide their quarrels in the plains, we 

 climb the mountains in search of solitude and 

 liberty. In the New World, the Cordilleras 

 are inhabited to the height of twelve thousand 

 feet; and thither men carry with them their 

 political dissentions, and their little and hateful 

 passions. Gaming-houses are established on 

 the ridge of the Andes, wherever the discovery 

 of mines has led to the foundation of towns ; 

 and in those vast solitudes, almost above the 

 region of the clouds, in the midst of objects fit- 

 ted to elevate the thoughts, the news of a de- 

 coration, or a title refused by the court, often 

 disturbs the happiness of families. 



Whether we gaze on the distant horizon of 

 the sea, or direct our looks to the south-east, 

 toward that serrated ridge of rocks, which seems 

 to unite the Cumbre and the Silla, though se- 



