Early the next morning we arose, and took our departure for Gavarnie.
Mine host at Luz, however, drew me aside as we were setting out, and
said he hoped we had not suffered ourselves to be cheated by the
Capuchin or his companion, each of whom he was sure was a great rogue,
and the Capuchin, he believed, had no more of the monk about him than
the gown and shaved head. "Be cautious, be cautious," said he, "and if
ever you meet them again, have nothing to do with them." I thanked
this candid host for his information, giving him at the same time to
understand, that he had better have warned me the night before, and
that I took his tardy caution at no more than it was worth; after
which I spurred on, and joined Father Francis and Houssaye, who had
not proceeded far on their journey ere I reached them.
Our road to Gavarnie lay through scenery of that grand and magnificent
nature, which mocks the feeble power of language. The change was still
from sublime to sublime, till the heart seemed to ache at its own
expansion. The vast, the wonderful, the beautiful, the sweet, were
spread around in dazzling confusion. The gigantic rocks and
precipices, the profuse vegetation, the peculiar lustrous atmosphere
of the mountains, the thousand rare and lovely flowers with which
every spot of soil was carpeted and every rock adorned, the very
butterflies which, fluttering about in thousands, seemed like flying
blossoms; all occupied my mind with new and beautiful objects, till it
was almost wearied with the exhaustless novelty. All was lovely, and
yet I felt then, and always do feel, in such scenes, a degree of calm
melancholy, so undefined in its nature, that I know not in what to
seek its cause. Whether it is, that man feels all the weaknesses and
follies of his passions reproved by the calm grandeur of nature's
vaster works; or whether his spirit, excited by the view of things so
beautiful, seemed clogged and shackled by the clay to which she is
joined, and longs to throw off those earthly trammels which
circumscribe her powers to enjoy, to estimate, to comprehend--I know
not.
Had the scenery through which we passed needed a climax even more
sublime than itself, it could not have been more exquisitely
terminated than by the famous Circle of Gavarnie, where above
an amphitheatre of black marble fourteen hundred feet in
height--perpendicular as a wall, and sweeping round an extent of half
a league--rises the icy summit of the Pyrenees, flashing back the rays
of the sun in long beams of many-coloured light. When we arrived in
the centre of the amphitheatre, a light cloud was stretched across the
top of the cascade, while the stream, shooting over the precipice
above us, fell with one burst full fourteen hundred feet; and, before
it reached the ground, also spread out into another cloud. Gazing upon
it, as we did, from a distance, we saw it thus pouring on, between the
two, without perceiving whence it came, or whither it went; so that
the long defined line of its waters, streaming from the one indistinct
vapour to the other, offered no bad image of the course of mortal time
flowing on between two misty eternities. At the same time, the bright
diamond heads of the mountains shone out above the clouds, with a
grand, unearthly lustre, like those mighty visions of heaven seen by
the inspired apostle at Samos.
I could have gazed on it for ever, but the evening light soon began to
fail; and as we had to rise early also the next morning, our stay in
the amphitheatre was necessarily curtailed. Winding round the little
lakes[3] that the stream forms after its fall, we returned to the
filthy hut in which we were to pass the night, often looking back by
the way to catch another glance of that grand and wonderful scene,
whose very remembrance makes every other object seem small and
insignificant.
By sunrise we were once more upon our way, and passing through what is
called the Porte de Gavarnie, entered Spain, after having been
examined from top to toe by the officers of the Spanish custom-house.
A wide and wavy sea of blue interminable hills now presented
themselves; and a guide, whom we had hired at Gavarnie, pointed out a
spot in the distance which he called Saragossa. Had he called it
Jerusalem, he might have done so uncontradicted by any object visible
to our eyes, for nothing was to be seen but hill beyond hill, valley
running into valley, till the far distance and the blue sky mingled
together, with scarcely a perceptible line to mark the division.
Thitherward, however, we wended on, and some hours after reached
Jacca, where, out of complaisance to Father Francis's mule, we
remained for the night, and set off before daybreak the next morning,
hoping to escape the heat of the middle of the day. In this we were
deceived, making less progress than we anticipated, and enjoying the
scorching of a meridian sun till we reached the gates of Saragossa.
On arriving at the inn, we inquired for the Chevalier, as we had been
directed, but found that he had ridden out early in the morning. He
returned, however, soon after, and having welcomed us cordially to
Spain, as no apartments could be procured in the house, he led us out
to seek for a lodging in the immediate neighbourhood. It was some time
before we could discover one to our mind, for it is with great
difficulty that the Spaniards can be induced to receive any foreigner
into their dwelling; and even when we did so, we had to undergo as
strict an examination by the old lady of the house, as we had bestowed
upon her apartments. She said it was but just that both parties should
be satisfied, she with us as well as we with her; and not content with
asking all manner of questions, which had as much to do with her
lodgings as with her hopes of heaven, she actually turned me round to
take a more complete view of my figure.
This was carrying the ridiculous to so high a point, that I burst out
into a fit of laughter, which, far from offending the good dame,
tickled her own organs of risibility, and from that moment we were the
best friends in the world. Our baggage being brought, and it being
agreed that we should eat at the _posada_ with the Chevalier, nothing
remained but to distribute the three chambers upon the same floor,
which constituted our apartments, according to our various tastes. As
Father Francis sought more quiet than amusement, he fixed upon the
large room behind, where he certainly could be quiet enough, for if
ever even the distant voice of an amorous cat on the house-top reached
his solitude, it must have been a far and a faint sound, like the
hymns of angels said to be heard by monks in the cells of a monastery.
Houssaye took up with the small chamber between the two larger ones,
and I occupied the front room of a tall house in a narrow street,
whose extreme width of which might possibly be two ells. Nevertheless,
whatever was to be seen, was to be seen from my window; and my very
first determination was to see as much of Spain while I was in it, as
I possibly could.
At eighteen, one has very few doubts, and very few fears; much
passion, and much curiosity; and for my own part, I had resolved if I
did not view the Spaniard in all situations, it should not be my
fault. In short, by the time I arrived at Saragossa, I was willing to
enter into any sort of adventure that might present itself, and though
the memory of Helen might act as some restraint upon me, yet I am
afraid I wanted that strong moral principle, which ought ever to guide
us in all our actions. I make this acknowledgment, because I look upon
these sheets to be a sort of confession, which in making at all, I am
bound to write truly; and though I shall not dwell upon any of those
scenes of vice which might lead others by the mere detail into the
very errors that I commemorate, be it remembered, that I seek not to
show myself at any period of my life as better or purer than I was.
With regard to every feeling that came within the direct code of
honour, or even its refinements, I had imbibed them from my earliest
days; but I was a countryman of Henri Quatre, and not without a great
share of that weakness, which in the gallant monarch was redeemed by a
thousand great and shining qualities. But the love of adventure was my
principal failing, which is a sort of mental spirit drinking, as hard
to be overcome as the passion for strong waters itself.
I know not why or how, but the Chevalier seemed to have an instinctive
perception of my character which almost frightened me; and while
Father Francis was seeking in his bags for a parcel which Arnault at
Lourdes had intrusted to his care, my keen-sighted companion drew me
to the window of the front chamber, and after having, by a few brief
observations on my disposition, shown me that he saw into my bosom
even more clearly than I did myself, he warned me of many of the
dangers of a Spanish town. "Remember, my dear Louis," continued he,
"that I only tell you that such things exist--I do not tell you to
avoid them. Your own good sense, as far as the good sense of a very
young man can go, will tell you how to act, and I am afraid that all
men in this world must buy experience for themselves; for if an angel
from heaven were to vouch its truths, they would not believe the
experience of others. However, loving you as I do--and you do not know
how much I love you--there is one thing I must exact--if you want
advice, apply to me--if you want assistance, apply to me--if you want
a sword to back your quarrel, you must seek none but mine."
As he spoke, Father Francis entered the room with a look of much
consternation and sorrow. "I hope and trust," said he, advancing to
the Chevalier, "that the packet which your procureur Arnault intrusted
to me for you is of no great value, for on my honour it has been
stolen by some one out of my bags."
The pale cheek of the Chevalier grew a shade paler, and though no
other emotion was visible, that one sign led me to think that the
packet was of the utmost import, for never before did I see him yield
the least symptom of agitation to any event whatever. "I did expect,"
replied he, in a calm, unshaken voice, "some papers of much
consequence, but I know not whether this packet you mention contained
them. There is no use, my good Father Francis, of distressing yourself
upon the subject," he added, seeing the very great pain which the
accident had caused to the worthy old man; "if by calling to mind the
circumstances you can find a probability of its recovery, we will
immediately take measures to effect it. If not, the packet is lost,
and we will forget it."
"How it has been abstracted, or when," answered the good priest, "I
know not. On arriving at Luz, at the end of our first day's journey, I
opened my valise on purpose to put that packet in safety, wrapping it
up with some small stock of money that I had laid by for the purpose
of doing alms; but both are gone."
"Stolen for the sake of the money!" said the Chevalier, shutting his
teeth, and compressing his lips, as if to master the vexation he felt.
"Well," proceeded he, with a sigh, "it is in vain we struggle against
destiny. For sixteen years I have been seeking those papers, but
always by some unfortunate accident they have been thrown out of my
reach; destiny wills not that I shall have them, and I will give it
up."
"And what do you mean by destiny, my dear son?" demanded Father
Francis, with the anxious haste of an enthusiastic man, who fancies he
discovers some great error or mistake in a person he esteems. "Many
people allow their energies to be benumbed, and even their religion,
by a theory of fatalism which has its foundation in a great mistake."
"It appears to me, my good father," replied the Chevalier, with a
smile, "that fate grasps us, as it were, in a cleft stick, as I have
seen many a boor catch a viper--there we may struggle as much as we
like, but we are fixed down, and cannot escape."
"Nay, nay," said Father Francis, "it is denying the goodness of God.
Every one must feel within himself the power of choosing whatever way
or whatever conduct he thinks fit. A man standing at a spot where two
roads separate, does he not always feel within himself the power to
follow whichever he likes? and yet, perhaps, death lies on the one
road, and good fortune on the other."
"But if he is destined to die that day, that day will he die," replied
the Chevalier. "And if you allow that God foresees which the traveller
will take, of course he must take it, and his free will is at an end."
"Nay, my son, not so," replied the old man. "What you call foresight,
is in the Deity what memory would be in man, if it were perfect. It is
knowledge. Standing in the midst of eternity, all is present to the
eye of God; and he knows what man will do, as well as what man has
done; but that does not imply that man has not the liberty of choice,
for it is his very own choice that conducts him to the results which
God already knows. When a lizard runs away frightened from before your
footsteps, you may know positively that it will fly to its hole, but
your knowledge does not affect its purpose; nor would it, if your
knowledge was as certain as Omniscience. If you ask me why, if man's
choice will be bad, the Omnipotent does not will it to be good? I say,
it is to leave him that very freedom of choice which you deny.
Farther, if there were no evil in the world, morally or
physically,--and it would be easy to show that one cannot exist
without the other--what would the world be? There would be no virtue,
because there could be no possibility of vice; there would be no
passions, because there would be nothing to excite them; there would
be no wishes, because privation being an ill, no desire for anything
could possibly exist; there could be no motion, for the movement of
one thing would displace another, which was in its proper place
before; there would be no action, for there being neither passions nor
wishes, nothing would prompt action. In short, the argument might be
carried on to show that the universe would not be, and that the whole
would be God alone. No one will deny that the least imperfection
is in itself evil, and that without God created what was equal to
himself--which implies, as far as the act of creation goes, a
mathematical impossibility--whatever he created must have been subject
to imperfection, and consequently would admit of evil. Evil once
admitted, all the rest follows; and if any one dare to ask, why then
God created at all? let him look round on the splendid universe, the
thousand magnificent effects of divine love, of divine bounty, and of
divine power, and feel himself rebuked for thinking that such
attributes could slumber unexerted."
"But," said the Chevalier, "it appears to me that your argument
militates against the first principle of our religion--the divinity of
Christ: for you say it implies an impossibility that God should create
what was equal to himself."
"Christ was not created," replied the priest, and laying his hand on
his breast he bowed his head reverently, repeating the words of
Scripture: "This is my only begotten Son, in whom I am well pleased."
Whether the Chevalier retained his own opinions or not I cannot tell;
but most probably he did, for certain it is, that nothing is more
difficult to find in any man, than the _faculty_ of being convinced.
However, he dropped the subject, and never more to my knowledge,
resumed it.
Father Francis, whose whole heart was mildness and humility, began to
fancy after a few minutes that he had been guilty of some presumption
in arguing so boldly on the secrets of Providence. "God forgive me,"
said he, "if I have done irreverently in seeking, as far as my poor
intellect could go, to demonstrate by simple reasoning, that which we
ought to receive as a matter of faith; but often, in my more solitary
hours, in thinking over these subjects I would find a degree of
obscurity and confusion in my own ideas, which impelled me to
endeavour to clear and to arrange them."
"I am convinced you did very right, my good father," replied the
Chevalier, "and that one great object in the good regulations of one's
mind is to obtain fixed principles on every subject which comes under
our review, carrying to the examination an ardent desire for truth;
and to religious inquiries, that profound reverence and humble
diffidence of human reason, that so deep and so important a subject
imperatively requires."
Here dropped the conversation, leaving both parties better satisfied
with each other than usually happens after any discussion, but more
especially where religion is at all involved.