Against all this stands Rome’s array:
Rome is the Protestant to-day.
The Red Republic slinging flame
In Europe--she’s your Scarlet Dame.
Rome stands: but who may tell the end?
Relapse barbaric may impend,
Dismission into ages blind--
Moral dispersion of mankind.
If Luther’s day expand to Darwin’s year,
Shall that exclude the hope--foreclose the fear?
* * * * *
Yea, ape and angel, strife and old debate,
The harps of heaven and dreary gongs of hell;
Science the feud can only aggravate--
No umpire she betwixt the chimes and knell,
The running battle of the star and clod
Shall run forever--if there is no God.
* * * * *
Then keep thy heart, though yet but ill resigned--
Clarel, thy heart, the issues there but mind;
That like the crocus budding through the snow--
That like a swimmer rising from the deep
That like a burning secret which doth go
Even from the bosom that would hoard and keep;
Emerge thou mayst from the last wheeling sea
And prove that death but routs life into victory.
Though _Clarel_ is unconscionably long, and though there are arid
wastes strewn throughout its length, a patient reading is rewarded by
passages of beauty, and more frequently by passages of astonishing
vigour and daring. And it speaks more for the orthodoxy of America than
for her intellect, that _Clarel_--which reposes in the outer limbo of
oblivion--is about all she has to show, as Mr. Mather has observed, for
the poetical stirrings of the deeper theological waters which marked
the age of Matthew Arnold, Clough, Tennyson, and Browning. We should
blush for our neglect of a not unworthy representative.
Besides _Battle-Pieces_ and _Clarel_, Melville printed for private
circulation two slender volumes: _John Marr and Other Sailors_ (1888)
and _Timoleon_ (1891): selections from a larger body of poetry, the
remainder of which is still preserved in manuscript. In these, the
inspiration flags throughout. Two of the better poems have already been
quoted. _John Marr_ was dedicated to W. Clark Russell, _Timoleon_ to
Elihu Vedder.
In 1886, according to Arthur Stedman, Melville “felt impelled to write
Mr. Russell in regard to one of his newly published novels.” This
was the beginning of a correspondence between Russell and Melville.
Melville’s letters are not available. Russell’s reply to Melville’s
first letter follows:
“July 21, 1886.
“MY DEAR MR. HERMAN MELVILLE:
“Your letter has given me a very great and singular pleasure. Your
delightful books carry the imagination into a maritime period so
remote that, often as you have been in my mind, I could never satisfy
myself that you were still amongst the living. I am glad, indeed, to
learn from Mr. Toft that you are still hale and hearty, and I do most
heartily wish you many years yet of health and vigour.
“Your books I have in the American edition. I have _Typee_, _Omoo_,
_Redburn_, and that noble piece, _Moby-Dick_. These are all I have
been able to obtain. There have been many editions of your works
in this country, particularly the lovely South Sea sketches; but
the editions are not equal to those of the American publishers.
Your reputation here is very great. It is hard to meet a man whose
opinion as a reader is worth having who does not speak of your
works in such terms as he might hesitate to employ, with all his
patriotism, towards many renowned English writers.
“Dana is, indeed, great. There is nothing in literature more
remarkable than the impression produced by Dana’s portraiture of the
homely inner life of a little brig’s forecastle.
“I beg that you will accept my thanks for the kindly spirit in which
you have read my books. I wish it were in my power to cross the
Atlantic, for you assuredly would be the first whom it would be my
happiness to visit.... The condition of my right hand obliges me to
dictate this to my son; but painful as it is to me to hold a pen I
cannot suffer this letter to reach the hands of a man of so admirable
genius as Herman Melville without begging him to believe me to be,
with my own hand, his most respectful and hearty admirer,
“W. CLARK RUSSELL.”
Elihu Vedder and Melville never met or corresponded. The acknowledgment
of the dedication came only after Melville’s death. “I may not have
been very successful in a worldly way,” he said, “but the knowledge
that my art has gained me so many friends--even if unknown to me--makes
ample amends.”
Schopenhauer was enabled to preserve his disillusions because he also
preserved his income. If a man is blessed with a comfortable fortune,
then it is easy for him to lead a tranquil and unpretentious existence,
sheltered from all intruders. But for an unsuccessful writer with a
wife, four children, and no income, to throw down the pen and retire
from the world (except for a season in California and another in the
Holy Land); the secret of such a feat should be popularised. The secret
transpires in the following letter to Melville from his father-in-law,
Justice Shaw.
“BOSTON, 15 May, 1860.
“MY DEAR HERMAN,
“I am very glad to learn from your letter that you intend to accept
Thomas’ invitation to go on his next voyage. I think it affords
a fair prospect of being a permanent benefit to your health, and
it will afford me the greatest pleasure to do anything in my power
to aid your preparation, and make the voyage most agreeable and
beneficial to you.
“The prospect of your early departure renders it proper and necessary
to bring to a definite conclusion the subject we have had a
considerable time under consideration, a settlement of the matter of
the Pittsfield estate, with a view to which you handed me your deeds,
when I was in Pittsfield last autumn.
“You will recollect that when you proposed to purchase a house in
N. York I advanced to you $2000. and afterwards, when you purchased
the Brewster place, I again advanced you $3000. For these sums, as
well as for another loan of $500. afterwards, I took your notes.
This I did, not because I had then any fixed determination to treat
the advances as debts, to be certainly repaid, but I was in doubt at
the time in reference to other claims upon me, and how my affairs
would be ultimately arranged, what I should be able to do by way of
provision for my daughter, and I put these advances upon the footing
of loans until some future adjustment.
“I always supposed that you considered the two first of the
above-named advances as having substantially gone into the purchase
of the Brewster farm, and that I had some equitable claim upon it
as security. I presume it was upon that ground that you once sent
me a mortgage of the estate prepared by your brother Allan. I never
put that mortgage on record nor made any use of it; and if the
conveyances are made, which I now propose, that mortgage will become
superseded and utterly nugatory.
“What I now propose is to give up to you the above mentioned notes
in full consideration of your conveyance to me of your present
homestead, being all the Brewster purchase except what you sold to
Mr. Willis. This being done and the estate vested in me, I propose
to execute a deed conveying the same in fee to Elizabeth. This will
vest the fee as an estate of inheritance in her, subject of course
to your rights as her husband during your life. If you wish to know
more particularly what will be the legal effect and operation of
these conveyances Mr. Colt will explain it to you fully. I have
written to him and enclosed him a draft of a deed for you to execute
to me and my deed executed to be delivered to you and your notes to
be surrendered. I have explained the whole matter to Mr. Colt and I
have full confidence in his prudence and fidelity. I do not see any
advantage in giving the business any more notoriety than will arise
from putting the deeds on record.
“Elizabeth now writes me that you wish the note for $600., given by
the town and coming from the sale of the Brewster place, that part of
it not sold to Mr. Willis, so placed that it may be applied as you
have heretofore, in your own mind, appropriated it, for building a
new barn.
“I propose to treat this as I did the estate itself: first purchase
it of you for a full consideration and then apply it to Elizabeth’s
use. In looking for a consideration for this purchase there is the
interest of the above notes not computed in the consideration for the
deed and now amounting to several thousand dollars.
“But there is another consideration, respecting which I have never
had any direct communication, I believe, but I can see no reason why
it should not be now clearly understood. When you went to Europe in
the fall of 1856 I advanced the money necessary for your outfit and
the expenses of your tour. This was done through your brother Allan
and amounted to about fourteen or fifteen hundred dollars. In my own
mind, though I took no note or obligation for it, I treated it like
the other advances, to be regarded as advance by way of loan or a
gift according to some future arrangement. I propose now to consider
that sum as a set off against the note of $600. and, as to all
beyond that, to consider it cancelled and discharged. This will make
the note mine. At the same time I propose to appropriate it to its
original use, to build a barn, in which case it will go to increase
the value of the estate already Elizabeth’s, or should anything occur
to prevent such use of the money I shall appropriate it in some other
way to her use. The effect of this arrangement will be to cancel and
discharge all debt and pecuniary obligation of every description
from you to myself. You will then leave home with the conscious
satisfaction of knowing that you are free from debt: that if by a
Providential dispensation you should be prevented from ever returning
to your beloved family, provision will have been made at least for a
home, for your wife and children.
“Affectionately and ever faithfully
“Your sincere friend
“LEMUEL SHAW.”
[Illustration: MELVILLE AS ARTIST]
[Illustration]
After his return from the Holy Land, Melville tried to eke out the
small income from his books and his farm by lecturing. J. E. A. Smith
says: “Between 1857 and 1861, a rage for lyceum lectures prevailed all
over the northern and western states. In Pittsfield the Burbank hall,
now Mead’s carriage repository, was filled at least once every week to
its full capacity of over a thousand seats, with eager and intelligent
listeners to the most brilliant orators in the country. Some of the
most noted authors, as well as orators, were induced to mount the
platform partly by the liberal pay which they received directly--and
also for the increased sale which it gave their books. Among these
was Herman Melville, who lectured in Burbank hall, and in Boston,
New York, Philadelphia, Montreal, St. Louis, San Francisco as well
as intermediate cities and towns. He did not take very kindly to the
lecture platform, but had large and well pleased audiences.”
If his audiences were composed of people of the jaunty and shallow
provincialism of J. E. A. Smith--and J. E. A. Smith is a very fair
product of his country and his time--Melville’s distaste for their
prim, bland receptivity does not pass understanding. The place and
date of Melville’s lectures, together with the “liberal pay directly
received” follows.
1857-1858
November 24 Concord, Mass. $30.00
December 2 Boston, Mass. 40.00
„ 10 Montreal 50.00
„ 30 New Haven, Conn. 50.00
January 5 Auburn, N. Y. 40.00
„ 7 Ithaca, N. Y. 50.00
„ 10 Cleveland, Ohio 50.00
„ 22 Clarksville 75.00
Chillicothe, Ohio 40.00
n. d. Cincinnati, Ohio 50.00
Feb. 10 Charleston, Mass. 20.00
„ 23 Rochester, N. Y. 50.00
n. d. New Bedford, Mass. 50.00
------
645.00
Travelling expenses 221.30
------
423.70
1858-9
Dec. 6, 1858 Yonkers, N. Y. $30.00
„ 14, „ Pittsfield, Mass. 50.00
Jan. 31, 1859 Boston, Mass. 50.00
Feb. 7, „ New York, N. Y. 55.00
„ 8, „ Baltimore, Md. 100.00
„ 24, „ Chicago, Ill. 50.00
„ 25, „ Milwaukee, Wisc. 50.00
„ 28, „ Rockford, Ill. 50.00
Mar. 2, „ Quincy, Ill. 23.50
„ 16, „ Lynn, Mass. (2 lec) 60.00
------
518.50
1859-60
November 7, Flushing, L. I. $30.
February 14, Danvers, Mass. 25.
„ 21, Cambridgeport, Mass. 55.
----
110.
For these lyceum gatherings, Melville prepared two lectures: one on the
_South Seas_, one on _Statuary in Rome_.
On December 2, 1857, in competition with another Melville, a bareback
rider, who at the circus at Bingo “nightly performed before the élite
and respectability of the city,” Melville lectured on _Statuary
in Rome_. On December 3, 1857, the Boston _Journal_ thus reported
Melville’s lecture:
“A large audience assembled last evening to listen to the author
of _Omoo_ and _Typee_. He began by asserting that in the realm of
art there was no exclusiveness. Dilettanti might accumulate their
technical terms, but that did not interfere with the substantial
enjoyment of those who did not understand them. As the beauties of
nature could be appreciated without a knowledge of botany, so art
could be enjoyed without the artist’s skill. With this principle in
view, he, claiming to be neither critic nor artist, would make some
plain remarks on the statuary of Rome.
“As you approach the city from Naples, you are first struck by
the statues of the Church St. John Lateran. Here you have the
sculptured biographies of ancient celebrities. The speaker then
vividly described the statues of Demosthenes, Titus Vespasian,
Socrates, looking like an Irish comedian. Julius Cæsar, so sensible
and business-like of aspect that it might be taken for the bust of a
railroad president; Seneca, with the visage of a pawn broker; Nero,
the fast young man; Plato, with the locks and air of an exquisite,
as if meditating on the destinies of the world under the hand of a
hair-dresser. Thus these statues confessed, and, as it were, prattled
to us of much that does not appear in history and the written works
of those they represent. They seem familiar and natural to us--and
yet there is about them all a heroic tone peculiar to ancient life.
It is to be hoped that this is not wholly lost from the world,
although the sense of earthly vanity inculcated by Christianity may
have swallowed it up in humility.
“The lecturer next turned to the celebrated Apollo Belvedere. This
stands alone by itself, and the impression made upon all beholders is
such as to subdue the feelings with wonder and awe. The speaker gave
a very eloquent description of the attitude and the spirit of Apollo.
The elevating effect of such statues was exhibited in the influence
they exerted upon the mind of Milton during his visit to Italy.
“Among the most wonderful works of statuary is that of Lucifer and
his associates cast down from heaven. This is in Padua, and contains
three-score figures cut out of solid rock. The variety and power of
the group cannot be surpassed. The Venus de Medici, as compared with
the Apollo, was lovely and not divine. Mr. Melville said he once
surprised a native maiden in the precise attitude of the Venus. He
then passed to a rapid review of the Laocoon and other celebrated
sculptures, to show the human feeling and genius of the ancient
artists. None but a gentle heart could have conceived the idea of the
Dying Gladiator. The sculptured monuments of the early Christians,
in the vaults of the Vatican, show the joyous triumph of the new
religion--quite unlike the sombre momentoes of modern times.
“The lecturer then eloquently sketched the exterior of the Vatican.
But nearly the whole of Rome was a Vatican--everywhere were fallen
columns and sculptured fragments. Most of these, it is true, were
works of Greek artists. And yet the grand spirit of Roman life
inspired them. Passing from these ancient sculptures, tribute was
paid to the colossal works of Benvenuto Cellini and Michael Angelo.
He regretted that the time would not allow him to speak of the
scenery and surroundings of the Roman sculptures--the old Coliseum,
the gardens, the Forum, and the villas in the environs. He sketched
some of the most memorable of the latter, and the best works they
contain.
“He concluded by summing up the obvious teachings of these deathless
marbles. The lecture was quite interesting to those of artistic
tastes, but we fancy the larger part of the audience would have
preferred something more modern and personal.”
The report of Melville’s other lecture is quoted from the Boston
_Journal_, January 31, 1859.
“At the Tremont Temple last evening, Herman Melville, Esq., the
celebrated author and adventurer, delivered the ninth lecture of the
course under the auspices of the Mechanic Apprentices’ Association.
Subject--‘The South Seas.’ The audience was not large, but about
equal to the usual attendance at this and the Mercantile course.
“On being introduced to the audience, Mr. Melville said that the
field of his subject was large, and he should not be expected to go
over it all: nor should he be expected to read again what had long
been in print, touching his own incidental adventures in Polynesia.
But he proposed to view the subject in a general manner, in a random
way, with here and there an incident by way of illustration.
“He first referred to the title of the lecture, and the origin
and date of the name ‘South Seas’ which was older than the name
‘Pacific,’ to which preference is usually given now. The voyages of
early navigators into the South Seas, and especially the Balboa,
commander of the petty port of Darien, from whence he had taken
formal possession of all the South Seas, and all lands and kingdoms
therein, in behalf of his masters, the King of Castile and Leon, were
noticed by the lecturer.
“Magellan was the man who, after the first hazardous and tortuous
passage through the straits which now bear his name, gave the
peaceful ocean to which he came out the name of ‘Pacific.’ It was
California, said the lecturer, which first made the Pacific shores
the home of the Anglo-Saxons. Even now, there were many places in
this wide waste of waters which were not found upon the charts.
But what was known, and well known, afforded an abundant theme for
a lecture. The fish found in that water would furnish an abundant
subject, of which he named the sword fish, a different fish from
that of the same name found in our northern latitudes--and the devil
fish, over which a mystery hangs, like that over the sea-serpent in
northern waters. The birds, also, in those latitudes, might occupy a
full hour. The lecturer said he wondered that the renowned Agassiz
did not pack his carpet bag and betake himself to Nantucket, and from
thence to the South Seas, than which he could find no richer field.
“Full of interest also were the fisheries of the South Seas and the
life of the whaling crews on the broad waters, or visiting lands.
Seldom, if ever, touched by any but themselves, was covered over with
a charm of novelty. Again the islands were an interesting study. Why,
asked the lecturer, do northern Englishmen, who own large yachts,
with which they sail up the Mediterranean, why don’t they go yachting
in the South Seas? The white race have a very bad reputation among
the Polynesians. With few exceptions they were considered the most
bloodthirsty, atrocious and diabolical race in the world. But there
were no dangers to voyagers if they treated the natives with common
kindness.
“In the Pacific there were yet unknown and unvisited isles. There
were many places where a man might make himself a sylvan retreat and
for years, at least, live as much removed from Christendom as if in
another world.
“The lecturer described an interview he had with a poetical young
man who called upon him to get his opinion upon what would be the
prospects of a number, say four score, of disciples of Fourier to
settle in the valley of Typee. He had not encouraged the scheme,
having too much regard for his old friends, the Polynesians. The
Mormons had also such a scheme in view--to discover a large island
in the Pacific, upon which they could increase and multiply. The
Polynesians themselves have ideas of the same nature. Every one
has heard of the voyage of Ponce de Leon to find the fountain of
perpetual youth. Equally poetical, and more unfamiliar, was the
adventure of Cama Pecar, who set sail alone from Hawaii to find the
fount of eternal joy, which was supposed to spring up in some distant
island where the people lived in perpetual joy and youth. Like all
who go to Paradise, he was never heard from again. A tranquil scene
from the South Seas was remembered by the lecturer. In a ship from a
port of the Pacific coast he had sailed five months, and came upon
an island where the natives lived in a state of total laziness.
Here they found a white man who was a permanent inhabitant, and
comfortably settled with three wives, who, however, failed to keep
his wardrobe in good order.
“Wonderful tales were told of the adventures in the South Seas, and
the lecturer said that he believed that the books _Typee_ and _Omoo_
gave scarcely a full idea of them, except that part which tells of
the long captivity in the valley of Typee. He had seen many of these
story tellers of adventures in the South Seas with good vouchers
of their tales in the shape of tattooing. A full and interesting
description of the process of tattooing with its various styles was
given. Tattooing was sometimes, like dress, an index of character,
and worn as an ornament which would never wear off and could not be
pawned, lost or stolen. The lecturer had successfully combated all
attempts to naturalise him by marks as from a gridiron, on his face,
for which he thanked God.
“A brief notice was made of the islands of the Pacific, where the
Anglo-Saxons had settled, and civilised the people, and the lecturer
had been disgusted, and threw down a paper published in the Sandwich
Islands, which suggested the propriety of not having the native
language taught in the common schools.
“In conclusion, the lecturer spoke of the desire of the natives of
Georges Island to be annexed to the United States. He was sorry to
see it, and, as a friend of humanity, and especially as a friend of
the South Sea Islanders, he should pray, and call upon all Christians
to pray with him, that the Polynesians might be delivered from all
foreign and contaminating influences.
* * * * *
“The lecture gave the most ample satisfaction, and was frequently
applauded.”
Melville cut short his third year of lecturing to make the trip
to California with his brother. Upon his return, he again made an
unsuccessful attempt to be appointed to a consularship. Such a mission
took him to Washington in 1861. This trip was chiefly notable because
of the meeting of Melville and Lincoln. Melville recounted the
experience in a letter to his wife: “The night previous to this I was
at the second levee at the White House. There was a great crowd and a
brilliant scene--ladies in full dress by the hundreds--a steady stream
of two-and-two’s wound through the apartments shaking hands with Old
Abe and immediately passing on. This continued without cessation for an
hour and a half. Of course I was one of the shakers. Old Abe is much
better looking than I expected and younger looking. He shook hands like
a good fellow--working hard at it like a man sawing wood at so much per
cord.”
Melville struggled on for two more years at Pittsfield, and in October,
1863, moved with his family to 104 East 26th Street, New York, where he
spent the remaining years of his life. His house in New York he bought
from his brother Allan, giving $7,750 (covered by mortgages and in time
paid for by legacies of his wife) and the Arrowhead place, valued at
$3,000.
The last years in Pittsfield and the early years in New York were, in
financial hardship, perhaps the darkest in Melville’s life. He was in
ill health, and except for the pittance from his books he was without
income. His lectures were a desperate if not lucrative measure. But for
the generosity of his wife’s father, he would have been in destitution.
On December 5, 1866, he was appointed Inspector of Customs in New
York--a post he held until January 1, 1886. He was sixty-seven years
old when he resigned. His wife had come into an inheritance that
allowed him an ultimate serenity in his closing years.
[Illustration:
MELVILLE’S CHILDREN
Malcolm, Frances, Elizabeth, Stanwix
(From left to right)
]
R. H. Stoddard, in his _Recollections_, thus speaks of Melville:
“My good friend Benedict sent me, one gloomy November forenoon,
this curt announcement of a new appointment in Herman Melville: ‘He
seems a good fellow, Dick, and says he knows you, though perhaps he
doesn’t, but anyhow be kind to him if this infernal weather will
let you be so to anybody.’ I bowed to the gentleman who handed the
note to me, in whom I recognised a famous writer whom I had met some
twenty-five years before; no American writer was more widely known in
the late forties and early fifties in his own country and in England
than Melville, who in his earlier books, _Typee_, _Omoo_, _Mardi_,
and _White Jacket_, had made himself the prose poet of the strange
islands and peoples of the South Seas.
“Whether any of Melville’s readers understood the real drift of his
mind, or whether he understood it himself, has often puzzled me.
Next to Emerson he was the American mystic. He was more than that,
however, he was one of our great unrecognised poets, as he manifested
in his version of ‘Sheridan’s Ride,’ which begins as all students of
our serious war poetry ought to know: ‘Shoe the steed with silver
that bore him to the fray.’ Melville’s official duty during the last
years of my Custom-House life confined him to the foot of Gansevoort
Street, North River, and on a report that he might be changed to
some district on the East River, he asked me to prevent the change,
and Benedict said to me, ‘He shan’t be moved,’ and he was not; and
years later, on a second report of the same nature reaching him, I
saw Benedict again, who declared with a profane expletive, ‘He shall
stay there.’ And if he had not died about a dozen years ago he would
probably be there to-day, at the foot of Gansevoort Street.”
It is interesting that a man of the intellect of R. H. Stoddard should
have found Melville’s mind such a shadowed hieroglyph. With Stoddard so
perplexed, it is less difficult to understand Melville’s preference for
solitude.
In his copy of Schopenhauer, Melville underlined the phrase--“this
hellish society of men;” and he vigorously underscored the aphorism:
“When two or three are gathered together, the devil is among them.”
Melville occupied himself with his books, with collecting etchings,
with solitary walks; and for companionship he was satisfied with the
society of his grandchildren. His grand-daughter, Mrs. Eleanor Melville
Metcalf, thus records her recollections of such association:
“I was not yet ten years old when my grandfather died. To put aside
all later impressions gathered from those who knew him longer and
coloured by their personal reactions, all impressions made by
subsequent reading of his books, results in a series of childish
recollections, vivid homely scenes wherein he formed a palpable
background for my own interested activities.
“Setting forth on a bright spring afternoon for a trip to Central
Park, the Mecca of most of our pilgrimages, he made a brave and
striking figure as he walked erect, head thrown back, cane in hand,
inconspicuously dressed in a dark blue suit and a soft black felt
hat. For myself, I skipped gaily beside him, anticipating the long
jogging ride in the horse cars, the goats and shanty-topped granite
of the upper reaches of our journey, the broad walks of the park,
where the joy of all existence was best expressed by running down the
hills, head back, skirts flying in the wind. He would follow more
slowly and call ‘Look out, or the “cop” may catch you!’ I always
thought he used funny words: ‘cop’ was surely a jollier word than
‘policeman.’
“We never came in from a trip of this kind, nor indeed from any walk,
but we stopped in the front hall under a coloured engraving of the
Bay of Naples, its still blue dotted with tiny white sails. He would
point to them with his cane and say, ‘See the little boats sailing
hither and thither.’ ‘Hither and thither’--more funny words, thought
I, at the same time a little awed by something far away in the tone
of voice.
“I remember mornings when even sugar on the oatmeal was not enough
to tempt me to finish the last mouthful. It would be spring in the
back yard too, and a tin cup full of little stones picked out of
the garden meant a penny from my grandmother. He would say in a
warning whisper, ‘Jack Smoke will come down the chimney and take
what you leave!’ That was another matter. The oatmeal was laughingly
finished and the yard gained. Across the back parlour and main hall
upstairs ran a narrow iron-trimmed porch, furnished with Windsor
and folding canvas chairs. There he would sit with a pipe and his
most constant companion--his cane, and watch my busy activity below.
Against the wall of the porch hung a match holder, more for ornament
than utility, it seems. It was a gay red and blue china butterfly.
Invariably he looked to see if it had flown away since we were there
last.
“Once in a long while his interest in his grandchildren led him to
cross the river and take the suburban train to East Orange, where
we lived. He must have been an impressive figure, sitting silently
on the piazza of our little house, while my sister and I pranced by
with a neighbour’s boy and his express wagon, filled with a satisfied
sense of the strength and accomplishment of our years. When he had
had enough of such exhibitions, he would suddenly rise and take the
next train back to Hoboken.
“Chiefly do I think of him connected with different parts of the 26th
Street house.
“His own room was a place of mystery and awe to me; there I never
ventured unless invited by him. It looked bleakly north. The great
mahogany desk, heavily bearing up four shelves of dull gilt and
leather books; the high dim book-case, topped by strange plaster
heads that peered along the ceiling level, or bent down, searching
blindly with sightless balls; the small black iron bed, covered with
dark cretonne; the narrow iron grate; the wide table in the alcove,
piled with papers I would not dream of touching--these made a room
even more to be fled than the back parlour, by whose door I always
ran to escape the following eyes of his portrait, which hung there
in a half light. Yet lo, the paper-piled table also held a little
bag of figs, and one of the pieces of sweet stickiness was for me.
‘Tittery-Eye’ he called me, and awe melted into glee, as I skipped
away to my grandmother’s room, which adjoined.
“That was a very different place--sunny, comfortable and familiar,
with a sewing machine and a _white_ bed like other peoples’ In the
corner stood a big arm chair, where he always sat when he left the
recesses of his own dark privacy. I used to climb on his knee, while
he told me wild tales of cannibals and tropic isles. Little did I
then know that he was reliving his own past. We came nearest intimacy
at these times, and part of the fun was to put my hands in his thick
beard and squeeze it hard. It was no soft silken beard, but tight
curled like the horse hair breaking out of old upholstered chairs,
firm and wiry to the grasp, and squarely chopped.
“Sad it is that he felt his grandchildren would turn against him
as they grew older. He used to forebode as much. As it is, I have
nothing but a remembrance of glorious fun, mixed with a childish awe,
as of some one who knew far and strange things.”
As the last meed of glory, Melville received this flattering letter:
“12 Lucknow Terrace,
“HALIFAX, N. S.
Nov. 21, 1889.
“DEAR SIR:
“Although a stranger, I take the liberty of addressing you on the
ground of my ardent admiration for your works. For a number of years
I have read and reread _Moby-Dick_ with increasing pleasure in every
perusal: and with this study, the conviction has grown up that the
unique merits of that book have never received due recognition. I
have been a student for ten years and have dabbled in literature
more or less myself. And now I find myself in a position which
enables me to give myself to literature as a life-work. I am anxious
to set the merits of your books before the public and to that end,
I beg the honour of corresponding with you. It would be of great
assistance to me, if I could gather some particulars of your life
and _literary methods_ from you, other than given in such books as
Duyckinck’s dictionary. In the matter of style, apart from the matter
altogether I consider your books, especially the earlier ones, the
most thoroughly New World product in all American literature.
“Hoping that I am not asking too much, I remain,
“Yours most respectfully,
“ARCHD. MACMEEHAN, PH.D.
“Munro Professor of English at Dalhousie University.”
Melville replied:
“104 E. 26th St.
“DEAR SIR:
“I beg you to overlook my delay in acknowledging yours of the 12th
ult. It was unavoidable.
“Your note gave me pleasure, as how should it not, written in such a
spirit.
“But you do not know, perhaps, that I have entered my 8th decade.
After 20 years nearly, as an outdoor custom house officer, I have
lately come into possession of unobstructed leisure, but only just
as, in the course of nature, my vigour sensibly declines. What little
of it is left I husband for certain matters as yet incomplete, and
which indeed may never be completed.
“I appreciate, quite as much as you would have me, your friendly good
will and shrink from any appearance to the contrary.
“Trusting that you will take all this, & what it implies, in the same
spirit that prompts it, I am,
“Very truly yours,
“HERMAN MELVILLE.
“_To_
“_Professor MacMeehan_,
“_Dec. 5, ’89._”
Melville was using his “unobstructed leisure” in a return to the
writing of prose. Ten prose sketches and a novel were the result. But
the result is not distinguished. The novel, _Billy Budd_, is built
around the character of Jack Chase, the “Handsome Sailor.” In the
character of Billy Budd, Melville attempts to portray the native purity
and nobility of the uncorrupted man. Melville spends elaborate pains
in analysing “the mystery of iniquity,” and in celebrating by contrast
the god-like beauty of body and spirit of his hero. Billy Budd, by
his heroic guilelessness is, like an angel of vengeance, precipitated
into manslaughter; and for his very righteousness he is hanged. _Billy
Budd_, finished within a few months before the end of Melville’s
life, would seem to teach that though the wages of sin is death, that
sinners and saints alike toil for a common hire. In _Billy Budd_ the
orphic sententiousness is gone, it is true. But gone also is the brisk
lucidity, the sparkle, the verve. Only the disillusion abided with him
to the last.
Melville died at 104 East 26th Street, New York, on Monday,
September 28, 1891. His funeral was attended by his wife and his two
daughters--all of his immediate family that survived him--and a meagre
scattering of relatives and family friends. The man who had created
Moby-Dick died an obscure and elderly private citizen. He had in early
manhood prayed that if indeed his soul missed its haven, that his
might, at least, be an utter wreck. “All Fame is patronage,” he had
once written; “let me be infamous.” But as if in contempt even for this
preference, he had, during the last half of his life, cruised off and
away upon boundless and uncharted waters; and in the end he sank down
into death, without a ripple of renown.
“Oh, what quenchless feud is this, that Time hath with the sons of
Men!”
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Herman Melville’s Sea Tales. 4 Volumes. Edited by Arthur Stedman.
_New York_, 1892, 1896; _Boston_, 1900, 1910, 1919.
Typee (with a biographical and critical introduction by the
editor).
Omoo.
Moby-Dick.
White-Jacket.
Typee: a Peep at Polynesian Life. During a Four Months’ Residence in
a Valley of the Marquesas.... _New York_, 1846.
A Four Months’ Residence among the Natives of a Valley of the
Marquesas Islands; or, a Peep at Polynesian Life.... _London_, 1846,
1847, 1855, 1861.
Typee: a Peep at Polynesian Life.... Revised edition, with a Sequel,
The Story of Toby.... _New York_, 1846, 1847, 1849, 1855, 1857, 1865,
1871. _London_, 1892, 1893 (ed. H. S. Salt), 1898, 1899. _Boston_,
1902 (ed. William P. Trent). _London_, 1903 (ed. William P. Trent).
_London and New York_, 1904 (ed. W. Clark Russell); 1907 (ed. Ernest
Rhys). _London_ 1910; another edition 1910 (ed. W. Clark Russell).
_New York_, 1911 (ed. W. Clark Russell); 1920 (ed. A. L. Sterling).
_New York and London_, 1921 (ed. Ernest Rhys).
Translated into German by R. Garrique, _Leipzig_, 1846; into Dutch,
_Haarlem_, 1847.
Omoo: a Narrative of Adventures in the South Seas.... _New York_,
1847 (five editions the same year). _London_, 1847, 1849. _New York
and London_, 1855. _London_, 1861. _New York_, 1863, 1868. _London_,
1892, 1893 (ed. H. S. Salt). _London and New York_, 1904 (ed. W. Clark
Russell); 1908 (ed. Ernest Rhys); 1911 (ed. W. Clark Russell); 1921
(ed. Ernest Rhys).
Translated into German by F. Gerstäcker, _Leipzig_, 1847.
Mardi: and a Voyage Thither.... _New York_, 1849 (2 volumes). _London_,
1849 (3 volumes). _New York_, 1855, 1864.
Redburn: His First Voyage. Being the Sailor-Boy Confessions and
Reminiscences of the Son-of-a-Gentleman, in the Merchant Service....
_New York_, 1849. _London_, 1849 (2 volumes). _New York_, 1855, 1863.
Translated into German by L. Marezoll, _Grimma_, 1850.
White-Jacket: or, The World in a Man-of-War.... _New York_, 1850.
_London_, 1850 (2 volumes). _New York and London_, 1855. _London_,
1892, 1893, 1901.
Moby-Dick; or, the Whale.... _New York_, 1851.
The Whale.... _London_, 1851, 1853 (3 volumes).
Moby-Dick; or, the Whale.... _New York_, 1863. _London_, 1901 (ed. L.
Becke). _London and New York_, 1907 (ed. Ernest Rhys). _London_, 1912;
1920 (ed. Violet Maynell). _London and New York_, 1921 (ed. Ernest
Rhys). The editions since 1892 have borne the title Moby-Dick; (or) the
(Great) White Whale.
Pierre: or The Ambiguities.... _New York_, 1852, 1855.
Israel Potter: His Fifty Years of Exile.... _New York_, 1855 (three
editions in the same year). _London_, 1855, 1861. (The book appeared
serially in _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine_, July, 1854-March, 1855. It was
pirated at _Philadelphia_, n. d. (entered 1865), as The Refugee, with
the original dedication and table of contents omitted).
The Piazza Tales.... _New York_, 1856. _London_, 1856. (Contains: The
Piazza; Bartleby; Benito Cereno; The Lightning-Rod Man; The Encantadas;
The Bell-Tower).
The Confidence-Man: His Masquerade.... _New York_, 1857. _London_, 1857.
Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War.... _New York_, 1866.
Clarel: a Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land.... _New York_, 1878.
John Marr and Other Sailors.... _New York_, 1888. (Privately printed).
Timoleon, etc. _New York_, 1891. (Privately printed).
CONTRIBUTIONS TO MAGAZINES, ETC.
Fragments from a Writing Desk. _The Democratic Press and Lansingburgh
Advertiser_, 4 May; 18 May; 1849.
Hawthorne and His Mosses, By a Virginian Spending a July in Vermont.
_Literary World._ 17 Aug.; 24 Aug.; 1850.
The Town-Ho’s Story. (Ch. 54 of Moby-Dick.) _Harper’s New Monthly
Magazine._ Oct., 1851.
A Memorial to James Fenimore Cooper. Discourses and tributes by
Bryant, Bancroft, Irving, Melville, etc., etc. _New York_, 1852.
Bartleby, the Scrivener. A story of Wall-Street. _Putnam’s Monthly
Magazine._ Nov.-Dec., 1853.
Cock-a-Doodle-Doo! or, The Crowing of the Cock of Benentano.
_Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ Dec., 1853.
The Encantadas, or Enchanted Isles, by Salvator R. Tarnmoor.
_Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ March-May, 1854.
The Lightning-Rod Man. _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ Aug., 1854.
Poor Man’s Pudding and Rich Man’s Crumbs. _Harper’s New Monthly
Magazine._ June, 1854.
Happy Failure. A Story of the River Hudson. _Harper’s New Monthly
Magazine._ July, 1854.
The Fiddler. _Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ Sept., 1854.
Paradise of Bachelors and Tartarus of Maids. _Harper’s New Monthly
Magazine._ April, 1855.
The Bell-Tower. _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ Aug., 1855.
Benito Cereno. _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ Oct.-Dec., 1855.
Jimmy Rose. _Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ Nov., 1855.
The ’Gees. _Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ March, 1856.
I and My Chimney. _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ March, 1856.
The Apple-Tree Table: or, Original Spiritual Manifestations.
_Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ May, 1856.
The March to the Sea (poem). _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ Feb., 1856.
The Cumberland (poem). _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ March, 1866.
Philip (poem). _Putnam’s Monthly Magazine._ April, 1866.
Chattanooga (poem). _Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ June, 1866.
Gettysburg: July, 1863 (poem). _Harper’s New Monthly Magazine._ July,
1866.
The History of Pittsfield, Mass., Compiled and written, under the
general direction of a committee, by J. E. A. Smith, Pittsfield,
1876. (The account of Major Thomas Melville, pp. 399-400, was written
by Melville.)
INDEX OF NAMES
Abbott, Willis J., 84, 135, 144.
Abernethy, John, 40.
_Acushnet, The_, 127, 129, 130, 133, 134, 145, 147, 151, 152, 154,
160, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 191, 193, 194, 195,
197, 198, 199, 200, 202, 216.
Adams, C. F., 78.
Adler, Dr., 285, 287, 288, 289, 291, 292, 293, 294, 298.
Ahab, Captain, 25, 26, 32, 133, 332.
Akenside, Dr. Mark, 57, 61, 114.
Albany, 34, 35, 36, 56, 63, 64, 65, 66, 68, 69, 70, 112, 113, 132,
205, 251, 252, 271.
Albany Academy, 70, 71, 121.
Alcott, Amos Bronson, 132.
Ames, Nathaniel, 79, 87.
Amherst, 257.
Angew, Mary, 304.
Annatoo, 275.
Arnold, Matthew, 365.
Arnold, Dr. Thomas, 44, 79.
Arrowhead, 47, 306, 309, 310, 311, 346, 351, 352, 376.
_Artémise, The_, 192, 193.
Balboa, 170, 373.
Banks, Sir Joseph, 178, 206.
Barbauld, Mrs., 57, 61, 126.
Barrie, Sir James, 22, 27.
_Battle Pieces_, 358, 365.
“Beauty,” 217.
Beck, Dr. T. Romeyn, 70.
Becke, Louis, 24.
Beecher, Henry Ward, 305.
Behn, Aphra, 203.
Bennett, F. D., 137.
Bentley, Richard, 273, 292, 293, 294, 299, 300, 301, 302, 311.
Berkshires, 23, 169, 305, 312.
Besant, Walter, 80, 177.
Bildad, 27, 32, 154, 155, 157.
Bildad, Aunt Charity, 144.
Billson, James, 360.
_Billy Budd_, 239, 381.
Blake, William, 74.
Bligh, Captain, 179, 181.
Bob, Captain, 220, 221.
Bolton, Harry, 106, 107.
Boomer, Captain, 27.
Borabolla, 278.
Borgia, Rodrigo, 171, 176.
Borrow, George, 15, 81.
Boston, 40, 42, 43, 47, 56, 63, 64, 68, 83, 236, 251, 255, 258, 270,
283, 312, 353, 369.
Boston Tea Party, 42.
_Bounty, The_, 179.
Bristol, R. I., 44.
Broadhall, 45, 47, 306.
Browne, J. Ross, 137, 158, 159, 166.
Browne, Sir Thomas, 17, 22, 27, 94, 121, 134, 146, 299, 304, 357.
Brownell, C. W., 313, 330, 331.
Browning, Robert, 358, 365.
Bryant, William Cullen, 305.
Buchanan, Robert, 349, 350.
_Buffalo Courier_, 164.
Bullen, Frank T., 90.
Bunker, Captain Uriah, 140.
Bunyan, John, 134, 331.
Burke, Edmund, 140, 153.
Burney, Fanny, 66, 177.
Burton, Robert, 116, 120, 121, 126.
Burton, Sir Richard, 15.
Butler, Samuel, 53.
Byron, Lord, 66, 120, 239.
Byron, Captain, 174, 176.
Cabri, Joseph, 196.
Cape Cod, 139, 142, 155.
Caret, 188.
Cargill, David, 40.
Cargill, Mrs. Mary, 40, 42.
Carlyle, Thomas, 44, 78, 82, 343.
Cartaret, 174, 176.
Cavendish, 173.
Champlain, Lake, 34, 262.
Chapone, Mrs., 58, 59, 61, 65, 126, 259.
Chase, Frederic Hathway, 257.
Chase, Jack, 32, 234, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 245, 246, 251, 381.
Chase, Owen, 136, 137.
Chasles, Philarete, 47.
Chateaubriand, François René, 205.
Chatterton, Thomas, 67.
Chesterfield, Lord, 116, 121.
_Chicago Times_, 165.
Churchill’s _Voyages_, 80.
_Clarel_, 29, 105, 186, 225, 226, 227, 257, 350, 352, 353, 357,
360, 361, 365.
Claret, Captain, 235, 243, 244, 245.
Clough, Arthur Hugh, 365.
Coan, Titus Munson, 23, 128, 351.
Coffin, Long Tom, 81.
Coleridge, Samuel, 121, 146.
College of New Jersey, 42.
_Confidence Man, The_, 17, 94, 227, 348.
Congregation of the Propaganda, 188.
Conrad, Joseph, 25, 81, 93.
Constantinople, 132, 335, 336, 352, 353, 354.
Cook, Captain James, 80, 169, 172, 173, 176, 177, 178, 183, 206, 256.
Cooke, Edmund, 174.
Cooper, James Fenimore, 18, 20, 81, 93, 177, 203, 304.
Covent Garden Theatre, 178.
Cowley, Abraham, 174.
Cowper, William, 151.
Curtis, George William, 305, 360.
Customs House, 16, 19, 20, 376, 377.
Duyckinck, George, 284, 285, 314, 326, 380.
_Daedalus, The_, 179, 181.
Dalrymple, Alexander, 172.
Dampier, William, 171, 174.
Dana, Richard Henry, 24, 25, 78, 80, 81, 82, 84, 86, 87, 129,
131, 295, 344, 345, 366.
Dante, 27, 37, 109, 259, 293, 338, 340, 343.
Darling, Captain, 183.
Darwin, Charles, 134.
Davis, Captain, 138, 167.
D’Wolf, Captain (see De Wolf II, Captain John).
Defoe, Daniel, 137.
Dekker, Thomas, 27.
Delaney, Mrs., 58.
Delano, R., 138.
de Bougainville, Louis, 175, 192.
Desgraz, C., 188, 196.
De Wolf II, Captain John, 44.
De Wolf, Mrs. John (see Mary Melville).
Dibdin, 102.
Donjalolo, 278.
Donne, Dr. John, 22.
Drake, Sir Francis, 173.
Dryden, John, 134.
_Duff, The_, 180, 182.
Du Petit-Thouars, Admiral, 189, 190, 191, 193, 198, 219, 256.
D’Urville, Captain Dumont, 190, 191.
Edwards, Jonathan, 305.
Eliot, George, 330.
Elizabeth, Queen of England, 50, 173.
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 18, 313, 377.
_Encantadas, The_, 165, 348.
_Essex, The_, 137, 148.
Fairhaven, 130.
Fanning, 182.
Fayaway, 32, 128, 210, 211, 213, 260, 351.
Fedallah, 32.
Fielding, Henry, 27, 288.
Flaubert, Gustave, 94, 132, 243.
Fletcher, John, 27, 304.
Fletcher, Captain, 301.
Fleury, Franchise Raymonde Eulogie Marie de Douleurs Lamé (see
Mrs. Thomas Melville--Melville’s aunt).
Fluke, 243, 244.
Forbes, Thomas T., 85.
Foster, Newton, 81.
France, Anatole, 74, 136.
Franklin, Benjamin, 73, 134, 297, 298, 347.
Franklin, Admiral S. R., 233, 234, 235.
Freud, Sigmund, 17.
Fuller & Co., Bradford, 130.
Fuller, Margaret, 78, 330.
Furneaux, Lieutenant, 175, 177.
Gansevoort (Saratoga County, N. Y.), 35.
Gansevoort, Harmen Harmense Van, 34.
Gansevoort, General Herman, 35.
Gansevoort, Maria (see Mrs. Allan Melville).
Gansevoort, General Peter, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 60, 89.
Gansevoort, Hon. Peter, 35, 36, 66, 68, 70, 71, 357.
Gardener, George, 155.
Gauguin, Paul, 185, 223.
George the Third, King, 175, 177, 179, 182.
Glendinning, Marie, 54, 61.
Glendinning, Pierre (see Pierre).
Goethe, 132, 304, 323, 324.
Goldsmith, Oliver, 66, 114, 209.
Goode, G. Brown, 135, 155.
Gordon, Eliza, 241.
Greene, Herman Melville, 165.
Greene, Richard Tobias (see Toby).
Greenlander, 92, 93.
Griswold, Captain, 284, 289, 291.
Guam, 171.
Guy, Captain, 217, 219, 221.
Hair, Richard Melville, 165.
Hakluyt’s _Voyages_, 80.
Hannamanoo, 195.
Hardy, Lem, 195, 196, 197.
Hardy, Thomas, 29.
Harper, 19, 253, 273, 339, 344.
Harris’ _Voyages_, 80.
Hart, Col. Joseph C., 145.
Harvard College, 20, 42.
Hautia, 279, 280.
Hawkins, Sir Richard, 173.
Hawthorne, Julian, 311, 312, 314, 315, 325, 326, 331, 334, 336.
Hawthorne, Mrs. Nathaniel, 22, 23, 24, 309, 310, 312, 314, 317,
325, 329, 330, 334, 335.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 15, 16, 17, 18, 21, 22, 23, 30, 32, 134, 169,
250, 305, 306, 309, 311, 312, 313, 314, 315, 316, 317, 318,
320, 321, 323, 324, 326, 327, 328, 329, 330, 334, 335, 336,
337, 340, 346, 347, 348, 353.
Hawthorne, Una, 24, 334.
Henricy, Casimir, 193.
Henry, Joseph, 71.
_Highlander, The_, 88, 90, 98, 100, 101, 105, 108, 109, 218.
Hervey, Captain, 187.
Hobard, Mary Anna Augusta (Mrs. Thomas Melville--Melville’s aunt), 45.
Hobbes, Thomas, 134.
Hodges, W., 177.
Holland, Dr., 296.
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 40, 305, 346, 352.
Honolulu, 156, 236.
Hook, Captain, 22, 27.
Howe, Julia Ward, 33.
Hubbard, 130, 160.
Hun, Dr. Henry, 70, 71.
Hussey, Christopher, 139, 140.
Huxley, Aldous, 132.
Huxley, Thomas, 53.
Imeeo, 228, 231.
_Independence, The_, 301.
Irving, Washington, 18.
Ishmael, 18, 27, 62, 89, 131, 160, 351.
_Israel Potter_, 293, 302, 304, 347.
Israel Potter, 297, 298.
Jackson, 32, 92, 93, 94, 96, 97, 100.
Jackson, Andrew, 42.
James, G. P. R., 23, 305.
_Janet, The_, 148.
Jarl, 32, 274, 275.
Jermin, John, 217, 219, 221.
Jewell, J. Grey, 88.
_John Marr_, 357, 365.
Johnson, Arthur, 342.
Johnson, Dr., 78, 177, 178, 279, 353.
Johnson, Captain Charles, 80.
Jones, John Paul, 347.
_Julia, The_, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221.
Kant, Immanuel, 17, 108, 285, 288.
Kemble, Fanny, 305.
Kingsley, Charles, 33.
Kippis, Dr., 172.
Knapp, Elizabeth, 257.
Knox, John, 50, 185.
Kory-Kory, 32, 209, 210, 212, 213.
Krusenstern, Admiral, 44, 182.
Ladrones, 171.
La Farge, John, 24, 211, 220.
La Maire, Captain, 173.
Lamb, Charles, 27, 56, 295.
Langsdorff, Captain, 44.
Lansingburg, 69, 118, 126, 251, 252, 258, 262, 263, 265, 271.
Laplace, Captain, 192, 193.
Larry, 93.
Lathers, Col. Richard, 308.
Lathrop, G. P., 313.
Lavendar, 93.
Lawrence, D. H., 342.
Lawton, William Cranston, 20.
Lemaître, Jules, 205.
Lemsford, 241.
Lenox, 305, 309, 311, 319, 337, 340.
_Leviathan, The_, 229, 231.
Lincoln, Abraham, 231, 375, 376.
Liverpool, 55, 73, 79, 83, 85, 91, 98, 99, 101, 102, 103, 107, 108,
111, 113, 126, 132, 334, 335, 336.
Lockhart, John Gibson, 296.
Long Island, 139, 155.
Lono, 176, 177.
Lombroso, Cesare, 17.
London, 290, 291, 293, 297, 299, 302, 308, 352.
London, Jack, 24.
London Missionary Society, 19, 174, 175, 178, 180, 182, 183, 184, 208,
222, 225, 227.
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 22, 255, 305.
Long Ghost, Doctor, 32, 217, 218, 219, 222, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231,
232.
Louis Philippe of France, 189, 190.
Lowell, James Russell, 22, 33, 305, 348.
MacMeehan, Archibald, 380, 381.
Macy, Obed, 136, 141, 145, 155.
Magellan, 170, 171, 172, 173, 373.
Mandeville, Sir John, 29.
Mapple, Father, 27, 32.
_Mardi_, 20, 37, 38, 105, 121, 148, 151, 240, 256, 272, 273, 274, 277,
278, 279, 280, 283, 344, 357, 377.
Marheyo, 209, 212, 213, 250.
Mariner, William, 206.
Marnoo, 32.
Marquesas Islands, 133, 161, 168, 169, 173, 176, 178, 181, 182, 190,
191, 193, 194, 197, 198, 199, 200, 211, 214, 233, 236, 237, 253,
255, 256, 351.
Marryat, Captain Frederick, 20, 81, 88, 240.
Martin, Dr. John, 206.
Martin, Winthrop L., 135.
Mary, Queen of Scots, 50.
Masefield, John, 22, 25, 29, 30, 79, 331.
Massinger, Philip, 27.
Mather, Jr., Frank Jewell, 27, 341, 342, 347, 352, 357, 365.
Mather, Richard, 138.
_Matilda, The_, 179, 181.
Maugham, Somerset, 24.
Max, 92, 93.
Melvil of Hallhill, Sir James, 50, 51.
Melvil, William, 50.
Melville, Alexander, 6th Earl of, etc., 51, 52, 101.
Melville, Allan (Melville’s great-grandfather), 47.
Melville, Allan (Melville’s father), 33, 34, 44, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53,
54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 74,
102, 103, 258, 259.
Melville, Allan (Melville’s brother), 251, 254, 265, 267, 272, 283,
284, 299, 301, 345, 346, 367, 368, 376.
Melville, Mrs. Allan (née Maria Gansevoort, Melville’s mother), 33,
34, 54, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 68, 69, 85, 88,
251, 259, 261, 283, 359.
Melville, Andrew (“Episcopomastrix”), 49, 50.
Melville, Andrew (Chevalier), 50.
Melville, Anna Marie Priscilla, 46.
Melville, Augusta (Melville’s sister), 271, 272, 273, 283.
Melville, Deborah (wife of John. See Scollay, Deborah).
Melville, Elizabeth Shaw (Melville’s wife), 113, 130, 257, 258, 260,
261, 262, 265, 268, 270, 272, 273, 279, 289, 290, 298, 299, 303,
304, 310, 311, 340, 346, 352, 360, 368, 376, 382.
Melville, Fanny, 283.
Melville, Gansevoort (Melville’s brother), 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 69, 82,
206, 251, 252, 253, 255, 297, 301.
Melville, Helen (Melville’s aunt), 63.
Melville, Helen Marie (Melville’s sister), 63, 64, 271, 283.
Melville of Carnbee, Sir John, 47, 49.
Melville, John--Lord of Raith in Fife, 50.
Melville, John, 43.
Melville, Malcolm (Melville’s son), 273, 287, 289, 299, 302, 346.
Melville, Mary (Mrs. John De Wolf), 44.
Melville, Pierre François Henry Thomas Wilson, 46.
Melville, Priscilla (wife of Major Thomas--See Scollay, Priscilla).
Melville, Sir Richard de, etc., 34, 47.
Melville, Sir Robert, 50.
Melville, General Robert, 42.
Melville, Thomas (Melville’s great-great-grandfather), 47, 50.
Melville, Major Thomas (Melville’s grandfather), 40, 42, 43, 44, 45.
Melville, Thomas (Melville’s uncle), 44, 45, 46, 47, 72.
Melville, Thomas (Melville’s brother), 85, 251, 255, 271, 281, 283,
353, 358, 366.
Mencken, H. L., 93.
Mendoca, 173.
Meredith, George, 22, 29, 105, 358.
Metcalf, Eleanor Melville, 377.
Miguel, 91, 92, 93.
Milton, John, 28, 37, 120, 134, 372.
_Moby-Dick_, 21, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 44, 62, 116, 121, 130, 133, 134,
135, 136, 137, 144, 149, 150, 154, 159, 162, 167, 274, 306, 311,
318, 319, 324, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331, 332, 333, 337, 340, 341,
344, 365, 380.
Moby-Dick, 30, 31, 131, 133, 382.
Moerenhaut (French consul at Tahiti), 190.
Molucca Islands, 171.
Monluc, Bishop of Valence, 50.
Montaigne, Michel, 204, 205, 241, 278.
Montégut, Emile, 317.
Montgomery, Mrs. Helen Barrett, 187.
Moore, Tom, 125, 126.
More, Mrs. Hannah, 57, 114.
Mortimer, Mrs. F. L., 183.
Mouat, Captain, 174.
Mow-Mow, 212, 213, 245.
Munsell, Joel, 36.
Murphy, Father, 221.
Murray, John, 252, 253, 292, 294, 295, 296, 302.
Nantucket, 27, 42, 130, 136, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145,
147, 154, 155, 160, 373.
_Nation, The London_, 21.
New Bedford, 129, 130, 139, 142, 143, 144, 154, 155, 156, 159, 160.
New England, 16, 20, 22, 24, 33, 83, 126, 132, 134, 138, 139, 140,
142, 154, 155, 156, 157, 305.
Newfoundland, 140.
New Guinea, 174.
New London, 139, 142, 156.
New York City, 33, 44, 63, 68, 73, 79, 82, 83, 91, 99, 108, 109,
142, 265, 271, 303, 304, 308, 350, 353, 367, 369, 376, 381.
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 16, 240, 332.
Nord, 241.
Nordau, Max, 17.
Nukuheva, 193, 199, 200, 202, 211, 212, 233.
Nye, N. H., 144.
Oberea, 175, 178.
O’Brien, Frederick, 24, 206, 214.
“Old Combustibles,” 235.
Omai, 177, 178.
_Omoo_, 21, 29, 115, 133, 167, 206, 208, 215, 224, 235, 236, 252,
255, 256, 273, 283, 287, 308, 339, 344, 365, 371, 375, 376.
Otaheite (see Tahiti).
Oto (see Pomare II, King).
Outooroo, 175.
Paine, Ralph D., 83.
_Pandora, The_, 179.
Paris, 297, 298.
Parker, Daniel P., 281.
Paton, John G., 203.
Paulet, Sir George, 235.
Pease, Captain, 130, 147, 161, 166, 169, 195.
Peleg, 27, 32, 154, 157.
_Pequod, The_, 131, 149, 162, 331, 332, 338.
Pert, Mr., 235.
Philippines, 171.
_Piazza Tales_, 165, 306, 348.
_Pierre_, 17, 19, 20, 29, 35, 48, 54, 56, 61, 62, 63, 113, 114,
115, 122, 125, 208, 225, 260, 280, 311, 338, 339, 341, 342,
343, 344.
Pierre, 32, 35, 36, 37, 39, 49, 54, 61, 62, 63, 67, 114, 115, 121,
280, 342, 343.
Pittsfield, 45, 46, 47, 63, 72, 113, 130, 160, 169, 228, 303, 304,
306, 308, 314, 315, 318, 327, 331, 336, 351, 352, 359, 367,
369, 376.
Plato, 18, 128, 371.
Po-Po, Jeremiah, 228, 229, 231, 232.
Poe, Edgar Allan, 152, 357.
Polynesia, 29, 186, 187, 203, 221, 223, 224, 228, 251, 275, 373.
Pomare I, King, 181, 186, 187.
Pomare II, King, 187, 221.
Pomare, Queen, 187, 189, 190, 191, 193, 219, 229, 230, 231, 234.
Pope, Alexander, 28, 134.
Porter, Captain, 182, 194.
Providence, R. I., 139.
Priestly, Joseph, 177.
Princeton (see College of New Jersey).
Pringle, Sir John, 177.
Pritchard, The Rev. (British Consul at Tahiti), 190, 219.
Putnam, G. P., 347.
Queequeg, 32, 147.
Rabelais, François, 21, 22, 27, 93, 105, 134, 277.
Raynal, Abbé, 172.
_Redburn_, 29, 38, 44, 54, 62, 68, 78, 79, 81, 82, 100, 106, 107,
133, 157, 159, 272, 273, 283, 292, 294, 304, 344, 365.
_Reine Blanche, The_, 193, 199, 219, 256.
Repplier, Agnes, 58, 166.
Revere, Paul, 42.
Reybaud, Louis, 192.
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 177.
Rhode Island, 42, 44.
Ricketson, Daniel, 136.
Riga, Captain, 110, 111.
Rio (de Janeiro), 31, 167, 245.
Roberts, E., 196.
Rodney, Mate, 27.
Rome, 132, 371, 372.
Rouchouse, Bishop of Nilolopis, 188, 190, 191.
Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 22, 79, 132, 151, 204, 299, 304.
Royal Society, 176, 177, 178, 206.
Royce, Josiah, 339.
Ruskin, John, 33.
Russell, W. Clark, 24, 79, 174, 365, 366.
Rutland, Duke of, 299, 300, 301, 304.
Sabine, Lorenzo, 136, 138.
Saddle-Meadows, 35, 36, 39.
Safroni-Middleton, A., 24.
Sag Harbor, 142.
Sainte-Beuve, Charles Augustin, 93, 94.
Salem, Mass., 83.
Samoa, 275, 276.
Salt, H. S., 79.
_Sandusky Mirror_, 164.
Sandwich, Earl of, 172.
Sandwich Islands, 46, 178, 223, 235, 345, 375.
Savage, Hope, 257.
Scammon, C. M., 136.
Schopenhauer, Arthur, 338, 339, 343, 366, 377.
Schouten, 173, 174.
Scollay, Deborah, 43.
Scollay, Priscilla, 43, 44.
Scoresby, William, 136.
Scott, Sir Walter, 81, 120, 239, 296.
Sedgewick, Catherine, 305.
Seward, Miss (The Swan of Lichfield), 178.
Shakespeare, William, 21, 28, 120, 240, 348.
Shaw, Elizabeth (see Melville--Mrs. Herman).
Shaw, John Oakes, 257.
Shaw, Chief Justice Lemuel, 16, 43, 257, 258, 340, 344, 345, 366, 369.
Shaw, Lemuel (son of Chief Justice), 257, 268, 269, 270, 273.
Shaw, Samuel Savage, 257, 267, 270, 272, 280, 281, 282, 310.
Shenley, 243.
Sigourney, Mrs., 305.
Smith, Adam, 91.
Smith, J. E. A., 45, 72, 113, 252, 313, 352, 369.
Smollett, Tobias, 27, 81.
Society Islands, 174, 236.
Society of Picpus, 188.
Socrates, 18, 344, 371.
Solomon, 29, 30, 151, 152, 323, 333.
Solomon Islands, 173, 174.
_Southampton, The_, 284, 290.
Southport (England), 30, 334, 335, 336.
South Seas, 24, 113, 127, 131, 141, 174, 177, 178, 179, 187, 188,
195, 196, 203, 205, 206, 216, 219, 234, 236, 251, 256, 283,
337, 357, 371, 373, 374, 375, 377.
Spencer, John C., 164.
Spenser, Edmund, 134.
Spilbergen, Joris, 173.
Stanwix, Fort, 34, 36.
Starbuck, Alexander, 130, 135, 136, 141, 332.
Stearns, Frank Preston, 23.
Stedman, Arthur, 113, 128, 129, 130, 131, 236, 349, 350, 365.
Steelkilt, 27.
Stevenson, Robert Louis, 20, 22, 24, 28, 56, 201, 357.
Stoddard, Charles Warren, 24, 357, 376, 377.
Sturges, William, 85.
Swift, Jonathan, 21, 40, 331.
Tahiti, 16, 132, 174, 175, 177, 178, 179, 180, 182, 183, 184,
185, 186, 187, 189, 191, 192, 193, 199, 219, 221, 224,
225, 227, 228, 230, 231, 234, 235, 236, 256, 339.
Taji, 105.
Tashetego, 32.
Tasman, 172, 173, 174.
Taylor, Bayard, 304.
Taylor, Dr., 285, 287, 288, 289, 291, 292.
Tenae, 182.
Tennyson, Lord Alfred, 365.
Thackeray, William Makepeace, 28, 125.
Thompson, Francis, 28, 129.
Thomson, James, 22, 28.
Thoreau, Henry David, 22, 131, 132.
_Timoleon_, 340, 353, 357, 365.
Toby, 32, 130, 133, 162, 164, 165, 166, 168, 200, 201, 202,
203, 209, 211, 212.
Tonga Islands, 206.
Tower, Walter S., 135, 138, 142.
_Typee_, 21, 29, 113, 114, 115, 116, 128, 130, 133, 162, 163,
165, 166, 199, 206, 207, 208, 209, 211, 216, 223, 235,
236, 237, 252, 253, 255, 256, 257, 258, 283, 297, 308,
323, 339, 344, 351, 365, 371, 375, 376.
_United States, The_, 233, 235, 236, 237, 239, 240, 242, 243,
245, 246, 250, 252.
University of New York, 35.
Van Schaek, Henry, 45.
Van Schaick, Catharine, 34, 43.
Vedder, Elihu, 365, 366.
_Venus, The_, 189.
Verrill, Hyatt, 135, 142.
Victoria, Queen of England, 22, 33, 101, 189, 191, 230, 231, 295, 330.
Villon, François, 94.
Vincendon-Dumoulin, 188, 196.
Voltaire, François, 203.
Willis, Captain, 174, 175, 176.
Walpole, Horace, 339.
Washington, George, 35, 36, 42, 320.
Watson, E. L. Grant, 331.
Watson, Elkanah, 45.
Webster, Daniel, 134.
Webster, John, 27.
Wendell, Barrett, 20.
West, Professor Charles E., 72.
West, Captain Isaiah, 155.
_White-Jacket_, 29, 133, 167, 234, 236, 237, 240, 242, 250, 251,
283, 294, 295, 299, 302, 304, 339, 344, 377.
Whitman, Walt, 33, 221, 350.
Wiley & Putnam, 253.
Williams, 242.
Willis, Col. George S., 352.
Wilson, Captain, 180.
Wordsworth, William, 56, 57, 78, 132.
Yillah, 277, 279, 280.
Young, Edward, 151.
Zola, Emile, 22, 79.
Transcriber's Note
Duplicate headings have been removed.
Illustrations have been moved next to the text which they illustrate,
and may no longer correspond to the locations given in the List of
Illustrations.
The following apparent errors have been corrected:
p. 17 "bolstering it" changed to "bolstering its"
p. 22 "unitiated" changed to "uninitiated"
p. 111 "be imbibed" changed to "he imbibed"
p. 161 "_Smith_" changed to "“_Smith_"
p. 212 "Desirious" changed to "Desirous"
p. 222 "‘Mickonaree _ena_" changed to "‘Mickonaree _ena_’"
p. 223 "are!”" changed to "are!’"
p. 261 "Remember" changed to "“Remember"
p. 275 "shouler" changed to "shoulder"
p. 290 "early." changed to "early.”"
p. 293 "took" changed to "“took"
p. 294 "_Marriage_." changed to "_Marriage_.”"
p. 296 "away." changed to "away.”"
p. 303 "_Maids_.”" changed to "_Maids_."
p. 311 "evercise" changed to "exercise"
p. 330 "qualty" changed to "quality"
p. 337 "from hs" changed to "from his"
p. 350 "prophet!" changed to "prophet!”"
p. 351 "appearing the" changed to "appearing in the"
p. 362 "Common-place.”" changed to "Common-place."
p. 378 "c mpanion" changed to "companion"
p. 388 "Harper’s New Monthly’s" changed to "Harper’s New Monthly"
p. 393 "Fedellah" changed to "Fedallah"
p. 393 "Griswald" changed to "Griswold"
p. 394 "Henry, Joseph, 71." moved to alphabetical order
p. 395 "Mac Maehan" changed to "MacMeehan"
p. 395 "Winthrope" changed to "Winthrop"
p. 397 "Otaheiti" changed to "Otaheite"
p. 397 "_Pequod The_" changed to "_Pequod, The_"
p. 397 "56. 61," changed to "56, 61,"
p. 398 "Litchfield" changed to "Lichfield"
p. 399 "Tanae" changed to "Tenae"
p. 399 "Elkahah" changed to "Elkanah"
Non-standard and inconsistent punctuation, spelling and hyphenation,
have otherwise been left as printed.
On p. 65, "GOD" was printed in black-letter type.
On p. 123 the closing quotation mark in "address her.”" has no
corresponding opening quote.
The index entry for "Fleury, Franchise Raymonde Eulogie Marie de
Douleurs Lamé" refers to an entry for "Mrs. Thomas Melville--Melville’s
aunt", which appears not to exist.