It would seem to me impossible, did I not know that it is frequently done, for any man to stand in the presence of gigantic mountains, or dwell long amidst the snowy peaks, and cloud-mantled summits of the Alps, without finding his heart enlarged and his spirit raised by the sublime aspect of the world around him. It is possible, however--but too possible; and, although such was not the case with Morley Ernstein--although he felt his bosom expand, as it were, to take in the sensations produced by such majestic sights--the mind of his companion remained unchanged, whatever was the scenery through which he passed. And yet, let me not be mistaken; perhaps his mind also did undergo some alteration, not in its nature, not in its character, but in its capacity. The evil spirit might, in its own dark purposes, assume a loftier range, but without the slightest difference in the ends proposed, without a change even in the means employed. The sensation of joy and satisfaction at any progress made, of dark malevolence and angry impatience when aught obstructed its course. might become more energetic, more grand, more awful, though all the rest remained the same. There is a sublime in bad as well as in good, and the feelings of Lieberg, it would appear, were in intensity, as much influenced by the sights which presented themselves hourly to his eye in the Tyrol, as even that of his companion.
One thing, however, is to be remarked, the country in which they now were was quite new to Morley, but not so to Lieberg. He had seen it often before, and the freshness of first impressions was at an end. Nevertheless he gladly took part with his fellow traveller, in all his wanderings through that bright scenery; he climbed the peaks of the mountains with him; he gazed down into the valleys; he trod the wide tracks of snow; he accompanied him through the deep woods of pines; he stood upon the edge of the beetling precipice, or gazed over the wild dark lake; and it must be said, that his companionship gave additional charms to the expedition. Untiring in mind and in body, seeming never to know weariness for a moment, always well pleased at whatever course was taken, and always deriving a fresh current of thoughts, equally new and striking, from every change of scene that presented itself, Lieberg kept the thoughts of Morley Ernstein in a continual state of excitement, pleasing, though too strong. Occasionally, indeed, some of those strange observations, or perverted trains of reasoning, to which I have already adverted more than once, would burst forth, as it were, irrepressibly; and dark and awful words, betokening a spirit angry with, and rebellious to the will of God, would startle Morley at the very moment when his own heart felt inclined to raise itself in praise and adoration.
It was thus one day, after climbing nearly to the summit of a high peak, that they stood with their feet among the fresh fallen snow of the preceding night. There was a bright blue sky above them, and a light cloud rolled round the edge of the mountain, about half way down, while, beyond it--bursting forth in strong relief of light and shade--appeared one of those splendid valleys, surrounded on every side by Alps, and a thousand lesser hills rising up from the bottom of the depth, and bearing high their ancient castles to catch the noon-day sun. Morley gazed round with feelings of love and gratitude towards that Being who has robed the earth in splendour, and cast a mantle of beauty over all his works. But then, even then, as their eyes rested upon an infinite multitude of things, varying through every form of loveliness, and running up in magnificent harmony, from the fair delicate flower on the edge of the snow, to the stupendous sublimity of the icy crags above their head--it was then, even then, that Lieberg, after several minutes of dark thought, exclaimed, "Where shall man flee from God, from him, who has pronounced himself a God of vengeance--from him whose will is death and destruction--who has allotted a portion of sorrow to every being he has created, and cast the miserable insects he has formed into a sea of wretchedness, and strife, and mutual destruction? Where shall man flee from this fierce God? If he go into the cities, the pestilence and the sword, the midnight robber, the slow disease, the poisoned cup, the faithless paramour, disappointed hopes, agonized limbs, pangs, and death, meet him there; he can scarcely breathe the air without drawing in some calamity; he can scarcely lay himself down to rest without finding an asp upon his pillow. If he climb to the top of the mountains, and take refuge in the solitude of these eternal hills, the lightning and the rending fragment, the false footing and the thundering avalanche follow him there, and crush the writhing object of tyrannical power, as man himself sets his foot upon the worm."
Morley turned round, and gazed at him with sensations of wonder and horror; but after a moment's pause, the awful cloud which had hung upon Lieberg's fine brow, passed away, and noticing the expression of his companion's countenance with a smile, he added--"You are surprised, Morley, to find such gloomy feelings in one so gay as I am; but, perhaps, it may be the conviction of all life's many miseries that teaches me so eagerly to drain its scanty joys."
"No, Lieberg, no," answered Morley, somewhat sternly; "I was not surprised at finding such gloomy feelings; but I was surprised at finding such impious thoughts, and hearing such blasphemous words."
"But are they not true ones?" demanded Lieberg, with his eye flashing. "For what did God make man, but to curse him?"
"Man is his own curse," replied Morley. "We see it in everything. Are not his luxuries and his vices the cause of his diseases? Are not his strife and contention the effect of his own pampered passions? Are not almost all the evils that beset him, in a civilized state, the work of his own refractory will, opposed to the declared will of God? You may say that God formed him with those passions, and therefore that still the curse was his; but God gave them to him for good, not for evil; and not only with beneficent generosity left him to choose the good or evil course, according to his own volition, but guarded him against the one by warning and exhortation, and persuaded him to the other by every inducement, and every reward. Man is his own curse, Lieberg; man is his own curse, and if, as we daily see, he brings two-thirds, at least, of the misery that exists upon his own head, by his own act, we may very well conclude, that the rest of the load also was purchased in times past by errors and disobedience of the same kind."
"By eating an apple in a garden," said Lieberg, with a sneer, turning on his heel to descend the mountain.
"By rebellion against God, in some shape!" replied Morley.
Lieberg paused suddenly upon the verge of the crag, with his eye flashing fiercely, as if from personal offence, and for an instant the same demon-like expression came over his whole face, and even form, which had once caught the eye of Helen Barham. As he stood there, with his fine limbs thrown into strong action while balancing himself proudly upon the very edge of the precipice, and with the dark shadow on his haughty features, he certainly looked like one of the fallen spirits come down to hold dangerous communion with mortal men. The passion which moved him, however, passed away in a moment, and, without saying another word, he proceeded in his descent.