I left Portoer, the little haven I mentioned, soon after I finished my
last letter. The sea was rough, and I perceived that our pilot was right
not to venture farther during a hazy night. We had agreed to pay four
dollars for a boat from Helgeraac. I mention the sum, because they would
demand twice as much from a stranger. I was obliged to pay fifteen for
the one I hired at Stromstad. When we were ready to set out, our boatman
offered to return a dollar and let us go in one of the boats of the
place, the pilot who lived there being better acquainted with the coast.
He only demanded a dollar and a half, which was reasonable. I found him
a civil and rather intelligent man; he was in the American service
several years, during the Revolution.
I soon perceived that an experienced mariner was necessary to guide us,
for we were continually obliged to tack about, to avoid the rocks,
which, scarcely reaching to the surface of the water, could only be
discovered by the breaking of the waves over them.
The view of this wild coast, as we sailed along it, afforded me a
continual subject for meditation. I anticipated the future improvement
of the world, and observed how much man has still to do to obtain of the
earth all it could yield. I even carried my speculations so far as to
advance a million or two of years to the moment when the earth would
perhaps be so perfectly cultivated, and so completely peopled, as to
render it necessary to inhabit every spot--yes, these bleak shores.
Imagination went still farther, and pictured the state of man when the
earth could no longer support him. Whither was he to flee from universal
famine? Do not smile; I really became distressed for these fellow
creatures yet unborn. The images fastened on me, and the world appeared
a vast prison. I was soon to be in a smaller one--for no other name can
I give to Rusoer. It would be difficult to form an idea of the place, if
you have never seen one of these rocky coasts.
We were a considerable time entering amongst the islands, before we saw
about two hundred houses crowded together under a very high rock--still
higher appearing above. Talk not of Bastilles! To be born here was to
be bastilled by nature--shut out from all that opens the understanding,
or enlarges the heart. Huddled one behind another, not more than a
quarter of the dwellings even had a prospect of the sea. A few planks
formed passages from house to house, which you must often scale,
mounting steps like a ladder to enter.
The only road across the rocks leads to a habitation sterile enough, you
may suppose, when I tell you that the little earth on the adjacent ones
was carried there by the late inhabitant. A path, almost impracticable
for a horse, goes on to Arendall, still further to the westward.
I inquired for a walk, and, mounting near two hundred steps made round a
rock, walked up and down for about a hundred yards viewing the sea, to
which I quickly descended by steps that cheated the declivity. The ocean
and these tremendous bulwarks enclosed me on every side. I felt the
confinement, and wished for wings to reach still loftier cliffs, whose
slippery sides no foot was so hardy as to tread. Yet what was it to
see?--only a boundless waste of water--not a glimpse of smiling
nature--not a patch of lively green to relieve the aching sight, or vary
the objects of meditation.
I felt my breath oppressed, though nothing could be clearer than the
atmosphere. Wandering there alone, I found the solitude desirable; my
mind was stored with ideas, which this new scene associated with
astonishing rapidity. But I shuddered at the thought of receiving
existence, and remaining here, in the solitude of ignorance, till forced
to leave a world of which I had seen so little, for the character of the
inhabitants is as uncultivated, if not as picturesquely wild, as their
abode.
Having no employment but traffic, of which a contraband trade makes the
basis of their profit, the coarsest feelings of honesty are quickly
blunted. You may suppose that I speak in general terms; and that, with
all the disadvantages of nature and circumstances, there are still some
respectable exceptions, the more praiseworthy, as tricking is a very
contagious mental disease, that dries up all the generous juices of the
heart. Nothing genial, in fact, appears around this place, or within the
circle of its rocks. And, now I recollect, it seems to me that the most
genial and humane characters I have met with in life were most alive to
the sentiments inspired by tranquil country scenes. What, indeed, is to
humanise these beings, who rest shut up (for they seldom even open their
windows), smoking, drinking brandy, and driving bargains? I have been
almost stifled by these smokers. They begin in the morning, and are
rarely without their pipe till they go to bed. Nothing can be more
disgusting than the rooms and men towards the evening--breath, teeth,
clothes, and furniture, all are spoilt. It is well that the women are
not very delicate, or they would only love their husbands because they
were their husbands. Perhaps, you may add, that the remark need not be
confined to so small a part of the world; and, _entre nous_, I am of the
same opinion. You must not term this innuendo saucy, for it does not
come home.
If I had not determined to write I should have found my confinement
here, even for three or four days, tedious. I have no books; and to pace
up and down a small room, looking at tiles overhung by rocks, soon
becomes wearisome. I cannot mount two hundred steps to walk a hundred
yards many times in the day. Besides, the rocks, retaining the heat of
the sun, are intolerably warm. I am, nevertheless, very well; for though
there is a shrewdness in the character of these people, depraved by a
sordid love of money which repels me, still the comparisons they force
me to make keep my heart calm by exercising my understanding.
Everywhere wealth commands too much respect, but here almost
exclusively; and it is the only object pursued, not through brake and
briar, but over rocks and waves; yet of what use would riches be to me,
I have sometimes asked myself, were I confined to live in such in a
spot? I could only relieve a few distressed objects, perhaps render
them idle, and all the rest of life would be a blank.
My present journey has given fresh force to my opinion that no place is
so disagreeable and unimproving as a country town. I should like to
divide my time between the town and country; in a lone house, with the
business of farming and planting, where my mind would gain strength by
solitary musing, and in a metropolis to rub off the rust of thought, and
polish the taste which the contemplation of nature had rendered just.
Thus do we wish as we float down the stream of life, whilst chance does
more to gratify a desire of knowledge than our best laid plans. A degree
of exertion, produced by some want, more or less painful, is probably
the price we must all pay for knowledge. How few authors or artists have
arrived at eminence who have not lived by their employment?
I was interrupted yesterday by business, and was prevailed upon to dine
with the English vice-consul. His house being open to the sea, I was
more at large; and the hospitality of the table pleased me, though the
bottle was rather too freely pushed about. Their manner of entertaining
was such as I have frequently remarked when I have been thrown in the
way of people without education, who have more money than wit--that is,
than they know what to do with. The women were unaffected, but had not
the natural grace which was often conspicuous at Tonsberg. There was
even a striking difference in their dress, these having loaded
themselves with finery in the style of the sailors' girls of Hull or
Portsmouth. Taste has not yet taught them to make any but an
ostentatious display of wealth. Yet I could perceive even here the first
steps of the improvement which I am persuaded will make a very obvious
progress in the course of half a century, and it ought not to be sooner,
to keep pace with the cultivation of the earth. Improving manners will
introduce finer moral feelings. They begin to read translations of some
of the most useful German productions lately published, and one of our
party sung a song ridiculing the powers coalesced against France, and
the company drank confusion to those who had dismembered Poland.
The evening was extremely calm and beautiful. Not being able to walk, I
requested a boat as the only means of enjoying free air.
The view of the town was now extremely fine. A huge rocky mountain stood
up behind it, and a vast cliff stretched on each side, forming a
semicircle. In a recess of the rocks was a clump of pines, amongst which
a steeple rose picturesquely beautiful.
The churchyard is almost the only verdant spot in the place. Here,
indeed, friendship extends beyond the grave, and to grant a sod of earth
is to accord a favour. I should rather choose, did it admit of a choice,
to sleep in some of the caves of the rocks, for I am become better
reconciled to them since I climbed their craggy sides last night,
listening to the finest echoes I ever heard. We had a French horn with
us, and there was an enchanting wildness in the dying away of the
reverberation that quickly transported me to Shakespeare's magic island.
Spirits unseen seemed to walk abroad, and flit from cliff to cliff to
soothe my soul to peace.
I reluctantly returned to supper, to be shut up in a warm room, only to
view the vast shadows of the rocks extending on the slumbering waves. I
stood at the window some time before a buzz filled the drawing-room, and
now and then the dashing of a solitary oar rendered the scene still more
solemn.
Before I came here I could scarcely have imagined that a simple object
(rocks) could have admitted of so many interesting combinations, always
grand and often sublime. Good night! God bless you!