despair, he led me again to converse concerning myself personally. He asked
me the history of my earlier years. The tale was quickly told, but it
awakened various trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of finding a
friend, of my thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than
had ever fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could
boast of little happiness who did not enjoy this blessing.

“I agree with you,” replied the stranger; “we are
unfashioned creatures, but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than
ourselves—such a friend ought to be—do not lend his aid to
perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I once had a friend, the most
noble of human creatures, and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting
friendship. You have hope, and the world before you, and have no cause for
despair. But I—I have lost everything and cannot begin life
anew.”As he said this his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled
grief that touched me to the heart. But he was silent and presently
retired to his cabin. Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he
does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight
afforded by these wonderful regions seem still to have the power of
elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he
may suffer misery and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he
has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a
halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine
wanderer? You would not if you saw him. You have been tutored and
refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are therefore
somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit to
appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I
have endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses that
elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I
believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing
power of judgment, a penetration into the causes of things, unequalled
for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression and a
voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music.

August 19th, 17—.
Yesterday the stranger said to me, “You may easily perceive, Captain
Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had
determined at one time that the memory of these evils should die with

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