218 
A VOYAGE TO SPITZBEBGEN. 
belief, that the world is only made for us and for our 
convenience, is sadly at fault; and nowhere on this 
earth does man feel his weakness and insignificance so 
much as here, amid this awful desolation. 
This was the fitting place for the ascetic of old, who 
would torture himself by seclusion from the world he 
feared, lest it might fill his soul with exultation and 
the vain pride he strove with such anxiety to extin¬ 
guish. 
It is true the ground in places was strewn with fair 
flowers, and there were, in places, broad patches of 
brilliant green ; but they were so few and far between, 
their existence seemed only a mockery, and looking 
from them to the awful grandeur of the surrounding 
mountains served only to heighten the desolation that 
surrounded. us. There was but one effect which 
served as a relief in all this solitude; it was the 
peculiar Arctic light which brought all these varying 
aspects of nature so vividly before us—the clear, un¬ 
accustomed light which during the hours of the day 
glorified everything it illuminated. We ourselves par¬ 
took of its influence; our health was at its best: we 
breathed more freely; we enjoyed everything. Our 
elastic spirits knew of no check. We possessed an 
energy which knew of no exhaustion. Only a slight 
change in the action of this clear atmosphere recurred 
