AFAMILIARPREFACE
　　Asageneralrulewedonotwantmuchencouragementtotalkaboutourselves;yetthislittlebookistheresultofafriendlysuggestion，andevenofalittlefriendlypressure。Idefendedmyselfwithsomespirit;but，withcharacteristictenacity，thefriendlyvoiceinsisted，"Youknow，youreallymust。"
　　Itwasnotanargument，butIsubmittedatonce。Ifonemust！……
　　Youperceivetheforceofaword。Hewhowantstopersuadeshouldputhistrustnotintherightargument，butintherightword。Thepowerofsoundhasalwaysbeengreaterthanthepowerofsense。Idon’tsaythisbywayofdisparagement。Itisbetterformankindtobeimpressionablethanreflective。Nothinghumanelygreat——great，Imean，asaffectingawholemassoflives——hascomefromreflection。Ontheotherhand，youcannotfailtoseethepowerofmerewords;suchwordsasGlory，forinstance，orPity。Iwon’tmentionanymore。Theyarenotfartoseek。Shoutedwithperseverance，withardour，withconviction，thesetwobytheirsoundalonehavesetwholenationsinmotionandupheavedthedry，hardgroundonwhichrestsourwholesocialfabric。There’s"virtue"foryouifyoulike！……
　　Ofcoursetheaccentmustbeattendedto。Therightaccent。
　　That’sveryimportant。Thecapaciouslung，thethunderingorthetendervocalchords。Don’ttalktomeofyourArchimedes’lever。
　　Hewasanabsent-mindedpersonwithamathematicalimagination。
　　Mathematicscommandsallmyrespect，butIhavenouseforengines。GivemetherightwordandtherightaccentandIwillmovetheworld。
　　Whatadreamforawriter！Becausewrittenwordshavetheiraccent，too。Yes！Letmeonlyfindtherightword！Surelyitmustbelyingsomewhereamongthewreckageofalltheplaintsandalltheexultationspouredoutaloudsincethefirstdaywhenhope，theundying，camedownonearth。Itmaybethere，closeby，disregarded，invisible，quiteathand。Butit’snogood。I
　　believetherearemenwhocanlayholdofaneedleinapottleofhayatthefirsttry。Formyself，Ihaveneverhadsuchluck。
　　Andthenthereisthataccent。Anotherdifficulty。Forwhoisgoingtotellwhethertheaccentisrightorwrongtillthewordisshouted，andfailstobeheard，perhaps，andgoesdown-wind，leavingtheworldunmoved？Onceuponatimetherelivedanemperorwhowasasageandsomethingofaliteraryman。Hejotteddownonivorytabletsthoughts，maxims，reflectionswhichchancehaspreservedfortheedificationofposterity。Amongothersayings——Iamquotingfrommemory——Irememberthissolemnadmonition："Letallthywordshavetheaccentofheroictruth。"
　　Theaccentofheroictruth！Thisisveryfine，butIamthinkingthatitisaneasymatterforanaustereemperortojotdowngrandioseadvice。Mostoftheworkingtruthsonthiseartharehumble，notheroic;andtherehavebeentimesinthehistoryofmankindwhentheaccentsofheroictruthhavemovedittonothingbutderision。
　　Nobodywillexpecttofindbetweenthecoversofthislittlebookwordsofextraordinarypotencyoraccentsofirresistibleheroism。Howeverhumiliatingformyselfesteem，ImustconfessthatthecounselsofMarcusAureliusarenotforme。Theyaremorefitforamoralistthanforanartist。TruthofamodestsortIcanpromiseyou，andalsosincerity。Thatcomplete，praiseworthysinceritywhich，whileitdeliversoneintothehandsofone’senemies，isaslikelyasnottoembroilonewithone’sfriends。
　　"Embroil"isperhapstoostronganexpression。Ican’timagineamongeithermyenemiesormyfriendsabeingsohardupforsomethingtodoastoquarrelwithme。"Todisappointone’sfriends"wouldbenearerthemark。Most，almostall，friendshipsofthewritingperiodofmylifehavecometomethroughmybooks;andIknowthatanovelistlivesinhiswork。Hestandsthere，theonlyrealityinaninventedworld，amongimaginarythings，happenings，andpeople。Writingaboutthem，heisonlywritingabouthimself。Butthedisclosureisnotcomplete。Heremains，toacertainextent，afigurebehindtheveil;asuspectedratherthanaseenpresence——amovementandavoicebehindthedraperiesoffiction。Inthesepersonalnotesthereisnosuchveil。AndIcannothelpthinkingofapassageinthe"ImitationofChrist"wheretheasceticauthor，whoknewlifesoprofoundly，saysthat"therearepersonsesteemedontheirreputationwhobyshowingthemselvesdestroytheopiniononehadofthem。"Thisisthedangerincurredbyanauthoroffictionwhosetsouttotalkabouthimselfwithoutdisguise。
　　WhilethesereminiscentpageswereappearingseriallyIwasremonstratedwithforbadeconomy;asifsuchwritingwereaformofself-indulgencewastingthesubstanceoffuturevolumes。ItseemsthatIamnotsufficientlyliterary。Indeed，amanwhoneverwrotealineforprinttillhewasthirty-sixcannotbringhimselftolookuponhisexistenceandhisexperience，uponthesumofhisthoughts，sensations，andemotions，uponhismemoriesandhisregrets，andthewholepossessionofhispast，asonlysomuchmaterialforhishands。Oncebefore，somethreeyearsago，whenIpublished"TheMirroroftheSea，"avolumeofimpressionsandmemories，thesameremarksweremadetome。Practicalremarks。But，truthtosay，Ihaveneverunderstoodthekindofthrifttheyrecommend。Iwantedtopaymytributetothesea，itsshipsanditsmen，towhomIremainindebtedforsomuchwhichhasgonetomakemewhatIam。ThatseemedtometheonlyshapeinwhichIcouldofferittotheirshades。Therecouldnotbeaquestioninmymindofanythingelse。ItisquitepossiblethatIamabadeconomist;butitiscertainthatIamincorrigible。
　　Havingmaturedinthesurroundingsandunderthespecialconditionsofsealife，Ihaveaspecialpietytowardthatformofmypast;foritsimpressionswerevivid，itsappealdirect，itsdemandssuchascouldberespondedtowiththenaturalelationofyouthandstrengthequaltothecall。Therewasnothinginthemtoperplexayoungconscience。Havingbrokenawayfrommyoriginsunderastormofblamefromeveryquarterwhichhadthemerestshadowofrighttovoiceanopinion，removedbygreatdistancesfromsuchnaturalaffectionsaswerestilllefttome，andevenestranged，inameasure，fromthembythetotallyunintelligiblecharacterofthelifewhichhadseducedmesomysteriouslyfrommyallegiance，Imaysafelysaythatthroughtheblindforceofcircumstancestheseawastobeallmyworldandthemerchantservicemyonlyhomeforalongsuccessionofyears。Nowonder，then，thatinmytwoexclusivelyseabooks——"TheNiggeroftheNarcissus，"and"TheMirroroftheSea"
　　（andinthefewshortseastorieslike"Youth"and"Typhoon"——I
　　havetriedwithanalmostfilialregardtorenderthevibrationoflifeinthegreatworldofwaters，intheheartsofthesimplemenwhohaveforagestraverseditssolitudes，andalsothatsomethingsentientwhichseemstodwellinships——thecreaturesoftheirhandsandtheobjectsoftheircare。
　　One’sliterarylifemustturnfrequentlyforsustenancetomemoriesandseekdiscoursewiththeshades，unlessonehasmadeupone’smindtowriteonlyinordertoreprovemankindforwhatitis，orpraiseitforwhatitisnot，or——generally——toteachithowtobehave。Beingneitherquarrelsome，noraflatterer，norasage，Ihavedonenoneofthesethings，andIampreparedtoputupserenelywiththeinsignificancewhichattachestopersonswhoarenotmeddlesomeinsomewayorother。Butresignationisnotindifference。Iwouldnotliketobeleftstandingasamerespectatoronthebankofthegreatstreamcarryingonwardsomanylives。Iwouldfainclaimformyselfthefacultyofsomuchinsightascanbeexpressedinavoiceofsympathyandcompassion。
　　Itseemstomethatinone，atleast，authoritativequarterofcriticismIamsuspectedofacertainunemotional，grimacceptanceoffacts——ofwhattheFrenchwouldcallsecheresseducoeur。Fifteenyearsofunbrokensilencebeforepraiseorblametestifysufficientlytomyrespectforcriticism，thatfineflowerofpersonalexpressioninthegardenofletters。Butthisismoreofapersonalmatter，reachingthemanbehindthework，andthereforeitmaybealludedtoinavolumewhichisapersonalnoteinthemarginofthepublicpage。NotthatIfeelhurtintheleast。Thecharge——ifitamountedtoachargeatall——wasmadeinthemostconsiderateterms;inatoneofregret。
　　Myansweristhatifitbetruethateverynovelcontainsanelementofautobiography——andthiscanhardlybedenied，sincethecreatorcanonlyexpresshimselfinhiscreation——thentherearesomeofustowhomanopendisplayofsentimentisrepugnant。
　　Iwouldnotundulypraisethevirtueofrestraint。Itisoftenmerelytemperamental。Butitisnotalwaysasignofcoldness。
　　Itmaybepride。Therecanbenothingmorehumiliatingthantoseetheshaftofone’semotionmissthemarkofeitherlaughterortears。Nothingmorehumiliating！Andthisforthereasonthatshouldthemarkbemissed，shouldtheopendisplayofemotionfailtomove，thenitmustperishunavoidablyindisgustorcontempt。Noartistcanbereproachedforshrinkingfromariskwhichonlyfoolsruntomeetandonlygeniusdareconfrontwithimpunity。Inataskwhichmainlyconsistsinlayingone’ssoulmoreorlessbaretotheworld，aregardfordecency，evenatthecostofsuccess，isbuttheregardforone’sowndignitywhichisinseparablyunitedwiththedignityofone’swork。
　　Andthen——itisverydifficulttobewhollyjoyousorwhollysadonthisearth。Thecomic，whenitishuman，soontakesuponitselfafaceofpain;andsomeofourgriefs（someonly，notall，foritisthecapacityforsufferingwhichmakesmanAugustintheeyesofmen）havetheirsourceinweaknesseswhichmustberecognizedwithsmilingcompassionasthecommoninheritanceofusall。Joyandsorrowinthisworldpassintoeachother，minglingtheirformsandtheirmurmursinthetwilightoflifeasmysteriousasanovershadowedocean，whilethedazzlingbrightnessofsupremehopesliesfaroff，fascinatingandstill，onthedistantedgeofthehorizon。
　　Yes！I，too，wouldliketoholdthemagicwandgivingthatcommandoverlaughterandtearswhichisdeclaredtobethehighestachievementofimaginativeliterature。Only，tobeagreatmagicianonemustsurrenderoneselftooccultandirresponsiblepowers，eitheroutsideorwithinone’sbreast。Wehaveallheardofsimplemensellingtheirsoulsforloveorpowertosomegrotesquedevil。Themostordinaryintelligencecanperceivewithoutmuchreflectionthatanythingofthesortisboundtobeafool’sbargain。Idon’tlayclaimtoparticularwisdombecauseofmydislikeanddistrustofsuchtransactions。
　　Itmaybemyseatrainingactinguponanaturaldispositiontokeepgoodholdontheonethingreallymine，butthefactisthatIhaveapositivehorroroflosingevenforonemovingmomentthatfullpossessionofmyselfwhichisthefirstconditionofgoodservice。AndIhavecarriedmynotionofgoodservicefrommyearlierintomylaterexistence。I，whohaveneversoughtinthewrittenwordanythingelsebutaformoftheBeautiful——I
　　havecarriedoverthatarticleofcreedfromthedecksofshipstothemorecircumscribedspaceofmydesk，andbythatact，I
　　suppose，Ihavebecomepermanentlyimperfectintheeyesoftheineffablecompanyofpureesthetes。
　　Asinpoliticalsoinliteraryactionamanwinsfriendsforhimselfmostlybythepassionofhisprejudicesandbytheconsistentnarrownessofhisoutlook。ButIhaveneverbeenabletolovewhatwasnotlovableorhatewhatwasnothatefuloutofdeferenceforsomegeneralprinciple。WhethertherebeanycourageinmakingthisadmissionIknownot。Afterthemiddleturnoflife’swayweconsiderdangersandjoyswithatranquilmind。SoIproceedinpeacetodeclarethatIhavealwayssuspectedintheefforttobringintoplaytheextremitiesofemotionsthedebasingtouchofinsincerity。Inordertomoveothersdeeplywemustdeliberatelyallowourselvestobecarriedawaybeyondtheboundsofournormalsensibility——innocentlyenough，perhaps，andofnecessity，likeanactorwhoraiseshisvoiceonthestageabovethepitchofnaturalconversation——butstillwehavetodothat。Andsurelythisisnogreatsin。Butthedangerliesinthewriterbecomingthevictimofhisownexaggeration，losingtheexactnotionofsincerity，andintheendcomingtodespisetruthitselfassomethingtoocold，toobluntforhispurpose——as，infact，notgoodenoughforhisinsistentemotion。Fromlaughterandtearsthedescentiseasytosnivellingandgiggles。
　　Thesemayseemselfishconsiderations;butyoucan’t，insoundmorals，condemnamanfortakingcareofhisownintegrity。Itishisclearduty。Andleastofallcanyoucondemnanartistpursuing，howeverhumblyandimperfectly，acreativeaim。Inthatinteriorworldwherehisthoughtandhisemotionsgoseekingfortheexperienceofimaginedadventures，therearenopolicemen，nolaw，nopressureofcircumstanceordreadofopiniontokeephimwithinbounds。WhothenisgoingtosayNaytohistemptationsifnothisconscience？
　　Andbesides——this，remember，istheplaceandthemomentofperfectlyopentalk——Ithinkthatallambitionsarelawfulexceptthosewhichclimbupwardonthemiseriesorcredulitiesofmankind。Allintellectualandartisticambitionsarepermissible，uptoandevenbeyondthelimitofprudentsanity。
　　Theycanhurtnoone。Iftheyaremad，thensomuchtheworsefortheartist。Indeed，asvirtueissaidtobe，suchambitionsaretheirownreward。Isitsuchaverymadpresumptiontobelieveinthesovereignpowerofone’sart，totryforothermeans，forotherwaysofaffirmingthisbeliefinthedeeperappealofone’swork？Totrytogodeeperisnottobeinsensible。Ahistorianofheartsisnotahistorianofemotions，yethepenetratesfurther，restrainedashemaybe，sincehisaimistoreachtheveryfountoflaughterandtears。
　　Thesightofhumanaffairsdeservesadmirationandpity。Theyareworthyofrespect，too。Andheisnotinsensiblewhopaysthemtheundemonstrativetributeofasighwhichisnotasob，andofasmilewhichisnotagrin。Resignation，notmystic，notdetached，butresignationopen-eyed，conscious，andinformedbylove，istheonlyoneofourfeelingsforwhichitisimpossibletobecomeasham。
　　NotthatIthinkresignationthelastwordofwisdom。Iamtoomuchthecreatureofmytimeforthat。ButIthinkthattheproperwisdomistowillwhatthegodswillwithout，perhaps，beingcertainwhattheirwillis——oreveniftheyhaveawilloftheirown。AndinthismatteroflifeandartitisnottheWhythatmatterssomuchtoourhappinessastheHow。AstheFrenchmansaid，"Ilyatoujourslamaniere。"Verytrue。Yes。
　　Thereisthemanner。Themannerinlaughter，intears，inirony，inindignationsandenthusiasms，injudgments——andeveninlove。
　　Themannerinwhich，asinthefeaturesandcharacterofahumanface，theinnertruthisforeshadowedforthosewhoknowhowtolookattheirkind。
　　Thosewhoreadmeknowmyconvictionthattheworld，thetemporalworld，restsonafewverysimpleideas;sosimplethattheymustbeasoldasthehills。Itrestsnotably，amongothers，ontheideaofFidelity。AtatimewhennothingwhichisnotrevolutionaryinsomewayorothercanexpecttoattractmuchattentionIhavenotbeenrevolutionaryinmywritings。Therevolutionaryspiritismightyconvenientinthis，thatitfreesonefromallscruplesasregardsideas。Itshard，absoluteoptimismisrepulsivetomymindbythemenaceoffanaticismandintoleranceitcontains。Nodoubtoneshouldsmileatthesethings;but，imperfectEsthete，IamnobetterPhilosopher。
　　Allclaimtospecialrighteousnessawakensinmethatscornanddangerfromwhichaphilosophicalmindshouldbefree……
　　IfearthattryingtobeconversationalIhaveonlymanagedtobeundulydiscursive。Ihaveneverbeenverywellacquaintedwiththeartofconversation——thatartwhich，Iunderstand，issupposedtobelostnow。Myyoungdays，thedayswhenone’shabitsandcharacterareformed，havebeenratherfamiliarwithlongsilences。Suchvoicesasbrokeintothemwereanythingbutconversational。No。Ihaven’tgotthehabit。Yetthisdiscursivenessisnotsoirrelevanttothehandfulofpageswhichfollow。They，too，havebeenchargedwithdiscursiveness，withdisregardofchronologicalorder（whichisinitselfacrime），withunconventionalityofform（whichisanimpropriety）。Iwastoldseverelythatthepublicwouldviewwithdispleasuretheinformalcharacterofmyrecollections。"Alas！"Iprotested，mildly。"CouldIbeginwiththesacramentalwords，’Iwasbornonsuchadateinsuchaplace’？Theremotenessofthelocalitywouldhaverobbedthestatementofallinterest。Ihaven’tlivedthroughwonderfuladventurestoberelatedseriatim。Ihaven’tknowndistinguishedmenonwhomIcouldpassfatuousremarks。I
　　haven’tbeenmixedupwithgreatorscandalousaffairs。Thisisbutabitofpsychologicaldocument，andevenso，Ihaven’twrittenitwithaviewtoputforwardanyconclusionofmyown。"
　　Butmyobjectorwasnotplacated。Theseweregoodreasonsfornotwritingatall——notadefenseofwhatstoodwrittenalready，hesaid。
　　Iadmitthatalmostanything，anythingintheworld，wouldserveasagoodreasonfornotwritingatall。ButsinceIhavewrittenthem，allIwanttosayintheirdefenseisthatthesememoriesputdownwithoutanyregardforestablishedconventionshavenotbeenthrownoffwithoutsystemandpurpose。Theyhavetheirhopeandtheiraim。Thehopethatfromthereadingofthesepagestheremayemergeatlastthevisionofapersonality;
　　themanbehindthebookssofundamentallydissimilaras，forinstance，"Almayer’sFolly"and"TheSecretAgent，"andyetacoherent，justifiablepersonalitybothinitsoriginandinitsaction。Thisisthehope。Theimmediateaim，closelyassociatedwiththehope，istogivetherecordofpersonalmemoriesbypresentingfaithfullythefeelingsandsensationsconnectedwiththewritingofmyfirstbookandwithmyfirstcontactwiththesea。
　　Inthepurposelymingledresonanceofthisdoublestrainafriendhereandtherewillperhapsdetectasubtleaccord。
　　J。C。K。
　　APERSONALRECORD
　　I
　　Booksmaybewritteninallsortsofplaces。Verbalinspirationmayentertheberthofamarineronboardashipfrozenfastinariverinthemiddleofatown;andsincesaintsaresupposedtolookbenignantlyonhumblebelievers，IindulgeinthepleasantfancythattheshadeofoldFlaubert——whoimaginedhimselftobe（amongotherthings）adescendantofVikings——mighthavehoveredwithamusedinterestoverthedocksofa2，000-tonsteamercalledtheAdowa，onboardofwhich，grippedbytheinclementwinteralongsideaquayinRouen，thetenthchapterof"Almayer’sFolly"
　　wasbegun。Withinterest，Isay，forwasnotthekindNormangiantwithenormousmustachesandathunderingvoicethelastoftheRomantics？Washenot，inhisunworldly，almostascetic，devotiontohisart，asortofliterary，saint-likehermit？
　　"’Ithassetatlast，’saidNinatohermother，pointingtothehillsbehindwhichthesunhadsunk。"……ThesewordsofAlmayer’sromanticdaughterIremembertracingonthegraypaperofapadwhichrestedontheblanketofmybed-place。TheyreferredtoasunsetinMalayanIslesandshapedthemselvesinmymind，inahallucinatedvisionofforestsandriversandseas，farremovedfromacommercialandyetromantictownofthenorthernhemisphere。Butatthatmomentthemoodofvisionsandwordswascutshortbythethirdofficer，acheerfulandcasualyouth，cominginwithabangofthedoorandtheexclamation：
　　"You’vemadeitjollywarminhere。"
　　Itwaswarm。Ihadturnedonthesteamheaterafterplacingatinundertheleakywater-cock——forperhapsyoudonotknowthatwaterwillleakwheresteamwillnot。Iamnotawareofwhatmyyoungfriendhadbeendoingondeckallthatmorning，butthehandsherubbedtogethervigorouslywereveryredandimpartedtomeachillyfeelingbytheirmereaspect。Hehasremainedtheonlybanjoistofmyacquaintance，andbeingalsoayoungersonofaretiredcolonel，thepoemofMr。Kipling，byastrangeaberrationofassociatedideas，alwaysseemstometohavebeenwrittenwithanexclusiveviewtohisperson。Whenhedidnotplaythebanjohelovedtositandlookatit。Heproceededtothissentimentalinspection，andaftermeditatingawhileoverthestringsundermysilentscrutinyinquired，airily：
　　"Whatareyoualwaysscribblingthere，ifit’sfairtoask？"
　　Itwasafairenoughquestion，butIdidnotanswerhim，andsimplyturnedthepadoverwithamovementofinstinctivesecrecy：IcouldnothavetoldhimhehadputtoflightthepsychologyofNinaAlmayer，heropeningspeechofthetenthchapter，andthewordsofMrs。Almayer’swisdomwhichweretofollowintheominousoncomingofatropicalnight。IcouldnothavetoldhimthatNinahadsaid，"Ithassetatlast。"Hewouldhavebeenextremelysurprisedandperhapshavedroppedhispreciousbanjo。NeithercouldIhavetoldhimthatthesunofmysea-goingwassetting，too，evenasIwrotethewordsexpressingtheimpatienceofpassionateyouthbentonitsdesire。Ididnotknowthismyself，anditissafetosayhewouldnothavecared，thoughhewasanexcellentyoungfellowandtreatedmewithmoredeferencethan，inourrelativepositions，Iwasstrictlyentitledto。
　　Heloweredatendergazeonhisbanjo，andIwentonlookingthroughtheport-hole。Theroundopeningframedinitsbrassrimafragmentofthequays，witharowofcasksrangedonthefrozengroundandthetailendofagreatcart。Ared-nosedcarterinablouseandawoollennight-capleanedagainstthewheel。Anidle，strollingcustomhouseguard，beltedoverhisbluecapote，hadtheairofbeingdepressedbyexposuretotheweatherandthemonotonyofofficialexistence。Thebackgroundofgrimyhousesfoundaplaceinthepictureframedbymyport-hole，acrossawidestretchofpavedquaybrownwithfrozenmud。Thecolouringwassombre，andthemostconspicuousfeaturewasalittlecafewithcurtainedwindowsandashabbyfrontofwhitewoodwork，correspondingwiththesqualorofthesepoorerquartersborderingtheriver。WehadbeenshifteddowntherefromanotherberthintheneighbourhoodoftheOperaHouse，wherethatsameport-holegavemeaviewofquiteanothersoftofcafe——thebestinthetown，Ibelieve，andtheveryonewheretheworthyBovaryandhiswife，theromanticdaughterofoldPereRenault，hadsomerefreshmentafterthememorableperformanceofanoperawhichwasthetragicstoryofLuciadiLammermoorinasettingoflightmusic。
　　IcouldrecallnomorethehallucinationoftheEasternArchipelagowhichIcertainlyhopedtoseeagain。Thestoryof"Almayer’sFolly"gotputawayunderthepillowforthatday。I
　　donotknowthatIhadanyoccupationtokeepmeawayfromit;
　　thetruthofthematteristhatonboardthatshipwewereleadingjustthenacontemplativelife。Iwillnotsayanythingofmyprivilegedposition。Iwasthere"justtooblige，"asanactorofstandingmaytakeasmallpartinthebenefitperformanceofafriend。
　　AsfarasmyfeelingswereconcernedIdidnotwishtobeinthatsteameratthattimeandinthosecircumstances。AndperhapsI
　　wasnotevenwantedthereintheusualsenseinwhichaship"wants"anofficer。ItwasthefirstandlastinstanceinmysealifewhenIservedship-ownerswhohaveremainedcompletelyshadowytomyapprehension。Idonotmeanthisforthewell-knownfirmofLondonship-brokerswhichhadcharteredtheshiptothe，Iwillnotsayshort-lived，butephemeralFranco-CanadianTransportCompany。Adeathleavessomethingbehind，buttherewasneveranythingtangibleleftfromtheF。C。
　　T。C。Itflourishednolongerthanroseslive，andunliketherosesitblossomedinthedeadofwinter，emittedasortoffaintperfumeofadventure，anddiedbeforespringsetin。Butindubitablyitwasacompany，ithadevenahouse-flag，allwhitewiththelettersF。C。T。C。artfullytangledupinacomplicatedmonogram。Weflewitatourmainmasthead，andnowIhavecometotheconclusionthatitwastheonlyflagofitskindinexistence。Allthesameweonboard，formanydays，hadtheimpressionofbeingaunitofalargefleetwithfortnightlydeparturesforMontrealandQuebecasadvertisedinpamphletsandprospectuseswhichcameaboardinalargepackageinVictoriaDock，London，justbeforewestartedforRouen，France。AndintheshadowylifeoftheF。C。T。C。liesthesecretofthat，mylastemploymentinmycalling，whichinaremotesenseinterruptedtherhythmicaldevelopmentofNinaAlmayer’sstory。
　　ThethensecretaryoftheLondonShipmasters’Society，withitsmodestroomsinFenchurchStreet，wasamanofindefatigableactivityandthegreatestdevotiontohistask。Heisresponsibleforwhatwasmylastassociationwithaship。Icallitthatbecauseitcanhardlybecalledasea-goingexperience。
　　DearCaptainFroud——itisimpossiblenottopayhimthetributeofaffectionatefamiliarityatthisdistanceofyears——hadverysoundviewsastotheadvancementofknowledgeandstatusforthewholebodyoftheofficersofthemercantilemarine。Heorganizedforuscoursesofprofessionallectures，St。Johnambulanceclasses，correspondedindustriouslywithpublicbodiesandmembersofParliamentonsubjectstouchingtheinterestsoftheservice;andastotheoncomingofsomeinquiryorcommissionrelatingtomattersoftheseaandtotheworkofseamen，itwasaperfectgodsendtohisneedofexertinghimselfonourcorporatebehalf。Togetherwiththishighsenseofhisofficialdutieshehadinhimaveinofpersonalkindness，astrongdispositiontodowhatgoodhecouldtotheindividualmembersofthatcraftofwhichinhistimehehadbeenaveryexcellentmaster。Andwhatgreaterkindnesscanonedotoaseamanthantoputhiminthewayofemployment？CaptainFrouddidnotseewhytheShipmasters’Society，besidesitsgeneralguardianshipofourinterests，shouldnotbeunofficiallyanemploymentagencyoftheveryhighestclass。
　　"Iamtryingtopersuadeallourgreatship-owningfirmstocometousfortheirmen。Thereisnothingofatrade-unionspiritaboutoursociety，andIreallydon’tseewhytheyshouldnot，"
　　hesaidoncetome。"Iamalwaystellingthecaptains，too，that，allthingsbeingequal，theyoughttogivepreferencetothemembersofthesociety。InmypositionIcangenerallyfindforthemwhattheywantamongourmembersorourassociatemembers。"
　　InmywanderingsaboutLondonfromwesttoeastandbackagain（I
　　wasveryidlethen）thetwolittleroomsinFenchurchStreetwereasortofresting-placewheremyspirit，hankeringafterthesea，couldfeelitselfnearertotheships，themen，andthelifeofitschoice——nearertherethanonanyotherspotofthesolidearth。Thisresting-placeusedtobe，ataboutfiveo’clockintheafternoon，fullofmenandtobaccosmoke，butCaptainFroudhadthesmallerroomtohimselfandtherehegrantedprivateinterviews，whoseprincipalmotivewastorenderservice。Thus，onemurkyNovemberafternoonhebeckonedmeinwithacrookedfingerandthatpeculiarglanceabovehisspectacleswhichisperhapsmystrongestphysicalrecollectionoftheman。
　　"Ihavehadinhereashipmaster，thismorning，"hesaid，gettingbacktohisdeskandmotioningmetoachair，"whoisinwantofanofficer。It’sforasteamship。Youknow，nothingpleasesmemorethantobeasked，but，unfortunately，Idonotquiteseemyway……"
　　AstheouterroomwasfullofmenIcastawonderingglanceatthecloseddoor;butheshookhishead。
　　"Oh，yes，Ishouldbeonlytoogladtogetthatberthforoneofthem。Butthefactofthematteris，thecaptainofthatshipwantsanofficerwhocanspeakFrenchfluently，andthat’snotsoeasytofind。Idonotknowanybodymyselfbutyou。It’sasecondofficer’sberthand，ofcourse，youwouldnotcare……
　　wouldyounow？Iknowthatitisn’twhatyouarelookingfor。"
　　Itwasnot。Ihadgivenmyselfuptotheidlenessofahauntedmanwholooksfornothingbutwordswhereintocapturehisvisions。ButIadmitthatoutwardlyIresembledsufficientlyamanwhocouldmakeasecondofficerforasteamercharteredbyaFrenchcompany。IshowednosignofbeinghauntedbythefateofNinaandbythemurmursoftropicalforests;andevenmyintimateintercoursewithAlmayer（apersonofweakcharacter）hadnotputavisiblemarkuponmyfeatures。Formanyyearsheandtheworldofhisstoryhadbeenthecompanionsofmyimaginationwithout，I
　　hope，impairingmyabilitytodealwiththerealitiesofsealife。Ihadhadthemanandhissurroundingswithmeeversincemyreturnfromtheeasternwaters——somefouryearsbeforethedayofwhichIspeak。
　　Itwasinthefrontsitting-roomoffurnishedapartmentsinaPimlicosquarethattheyfirstbegantoliveagainwithavividnessandpoignancyquiteforeigntoourformerrealintercourse。Ihadbeentreatingmyselftoalongstayonshore，andinthenecessityofoccupyingmymorningsAlmayer（thatoldacquaintance）camenoblytotherescue。
　　Beforelong，aswasonlyproper，hiswifeanddaughterjoinedhimroundmytable，andthentherestofthatPantaibandcamefullofwordsandgestures。Unknowntomyrespectablelandlady，itwasmypracticedirectlyaftermybreakfasttoholdanimatedreceptionsofMalays，Arabs，andhalf-castes。Theydidnotclamouraloudformyattention。Theycamewithasilentandirresistibleappeal——andtheappeal，Iaffirmhere，wasnottomyself-loveormyvanity。Itseemsnowtohavehadamoralcharacter，forwhyshouldthememoryofthesebeings，seenintheirobscure，sun-bathedexistence，demandtoexpressitselfintheshapeofanovel，exceptonthegroundofthatmysteriousfellowshipwhichunitesinacommunityofhopesandfearsallthedwellersonthisearth？
　　Ididnotreceivemyvisitorswithboisterousraptureasthebearersofanygiftsofprofitorfame。TherewasnovisionofaprintedbookbeforemeasIsatwritingatthattable，situatedinadecayedpartofBelgravia。Afteralltheseyears，eachleavingitsevidenceofslowlyblackenedpages，Icanhonestlysaythatitisasentimentakintopitywhichpromptedmetorenderinwordsassembledwithconscientiouscarethememoryofthingsfardistantandofmenwhohadlived。
　　But，comingbacktoCaptainFroudandhisfixedideaofneverdisappointingshipownersorship-captains，itwasnotlikelythatIshouldfailhiminhisambition——tosatisfyatafewhours’noticetheunusualdemandforaFrench-speakingofficer。
　　HeexplainedtomethattheshipwascharteredbyaFrenchcompanyintendingtoestablisharegularmonthlylineofsailingsfromRouen，forthetransportofFrenchemigrantstoCanada。
　　But，frankly，thissortofthingdidnotinterestmeverymuch。
　　IsaidgravelythatifitwerereallyamatterofkeepingupthereputationoftheShipmasters’SocietyIwouldconsiderit。Buttheconsiderationwasjustforform’ssake。ThenextdayI
　　interviewedthecaptain，andIbelievewewereimpressedfavourablywitheachother。Heexplainedthathischiefmatewasanexcellentmanineveryrespectandthathecouldnotthinkofdismissinghimsoastogivemethehigherposition;butthatifIconsentedtocomeassecondofficerIwouldbegivencertainspecialadvantages——andsoon。
　　ItoldhimthatifIcameatalltherankreallydidnotmatter。
　　"Iamsure，"heinsisted，"youwillgetonfirstratewithMr。
　　Paramor。"
　　Ipromisedfaithfullytostayfortwotripsatleast，anditwasinthosecircumstancesthatwhatwastobemylastconnectionwithashipbegan。Andafteralltherewasnotevenonesingletrip。Itmaybethatitwassimplythefulfilmentofafate，ofthatwrittenwordonmyforeheadwhichapparentlyforbademe，throughallmyseawanderings，evertoachievethecrossingoftheWesternOcean——usingthewordsinthatspecialsenseinwhichsailorsspeakofWesternOceantrade，ofWesternOceanpackets，ofWesternOceanhardcases。Thenewlifeattendedcloselyupontheold，andtheninechaptersof"Almayer’sFolly"wentwithmetotheVictoriaDock，whenceinafewdayswestartedforRouen。
　　Iwon’tgosofarassayingthattheengagingofamanfatednevertocrosstheWesternOceanwastheabsolutecauseoftheFranco-CanadianTransportCompany’sfailuretoachieveevenasinglepassage。Itmighthavebeenthatofcourse;buttheobvious，grossobstaclewasclearlythewantofmoney。Fourhundredandsixtybunksforemigrantswereputtogetherinthe’tweendecksbyindustriouscarpenterswhilewelayintheVictoriaDock，butneveranemigrantturnedupinRouen——ofwhich，beingahumaneperson，IconfessIwasglad。SomegentlemenfromParis——Ithinktherewerethreeofthem，andonewassaidtobethechairman——turnedup，indeed，andwentfromendtoendoftheship，knockingtheirsilkhatscruellyagainstthedeckbeams。Iattendedthempersonally，andIcanvouchforitthattheinteresttheytookinthingswasintelligentenough，though，obviously，theyhadneverseenanythingofthesortbefore。Theirfacesastheywentashoreworeacheerfullyinconclusiveexpression。Notwithstandingthatthisinspectingceremonywassupposedtobeapreliminarytoimmediatesailing，itwasthen，astheyfileddownourgangway，thatIreceivedtheinwardmonitionthatnosailingwithinthemeaningofourcharterpartywouldevertakeplace。
　　Itmustbesaidthatinlessthanthreeweeksamovetookplace。
　　Whenwefirstarrivedwehadbeentakenupwithmuchceremonywelltowardthecentreofthetown，and，allthestreetcornersbeingplacardedwiththetricolorpostersannouncingthebirthofourcompany，thepetitbourgeoiswithhiswifeandfamilymadeaSundayholidayfromtheinspectionoftheship。IwasalwaysinevidenceinmybestuniformtogiveinformationasthoughIhadbeenaCook’stourists’interpreter，whileourquartermastersreapedaharvestofsmallchangefrompersonallyconductedparties。Butwhenthemovewasmade——thatmovewhichcarriedussomemileandahalfdownthestreamtobetieduptoanaltogethermuddierandshabbierquay——thenindeedthedesolationofsolitudebecameourlot。Itwasacompleteandsoundlessstagnation;foraswehadtheshipreadyforseatothesmallestdetail，asthefrostwashardandthedaysshort，wewereabsolutelyidle——idletothepointofblushingwithshamewhenthethoughtstruckusthatallthetimeoursalarieswenton。
　　YoungColewasaggrievedbecause，ashesaid，wecouldnotenjoyanysortoffunintheeveningafterloafinglikethisallday;
　　eventhebanjolostitscharmsincetherewasnothingtopreventhisstrummingonitallthetimebetweenthemeals。ThegoodParamor——hewasreallyamostexcellentfellow——becameunhappyasfaraswaspossibletohischeerynature，tillonedrearydayI
　　suggested，outofsheermischief，thatheshouldemploythedormantenergiesofthecrewinhaulingbothcablesupondeckandturningthemendforend。
　　ForamomentMr。Paramorwasradiant。"Excellentidea！"butdirectlyhisfacefell。"Why……Yes！Butwecan’tmakethatjoblastmorethanthreedays，"hemuttered，discontentedly。I
　　don’tknowhowlongheexpectedustobestuckontheriversideoutskirtsofRouen，butIknowthatthecablesgothauledupandturnedendforendaccordingtomysatanicsuggestion，putdownagain，andtheirveryexistenceutterlyforgotten，Ibelieve，beforeaFrenchriverpilotcameonboardtotakeourshipdown，emptyasshecame，intotheHavreroads。YoumaythinkthatthisstateofforcedidlenessfavouredsomeadvanceinthefortunesofAlmayerandhisdaughter。Yetitwasnotso。Asifitweresomesortofevilspell，mybanjoistcabinmate’sinterruption，asrelatedabove，hadarrestedthemshortatthepointofthatfatefulsunsetformanyweekstogether。Itwasalwaysthuswiththisbook，begunin’89andfinishedin’94——withthatshortestofallthenovelswhichitwastobemylottowrite。BetweenitsopeningexclamationcallingAlmayertohisdinnerinhiswife’svoiceandAbdullah’s（hisenemy）mentalreferencetotheGodofIslam——"TheMerciful，theCompassionate"——whichclosesthebook，thereweretocomeseverallongseapassages，avisit（tousetheelevatedphraseologysuitabletotheoccasion）tothescenes（someofthem）ofmychildhoodandtherealizationofchildhood’svainwords，expressingalight-heartedandromanticwhim。
　　Itwasin1868，whennineyearsoldorthereabouts，thatwhilelookingatamapofAfricaofthetimeandputtingmyfingerontheblankspacethenrepresentingtheunsolvedmysteryofthatcontinent，Isaidtomyself，withabsoluteassuranceandanamazingaudacitywhicharenolongerinmycharacternow：
　　"WhenIgrowupIshallgoTHERE。"
　　AndofcourseIthoughtnomoreaboutittillafteraquarterofacenturyorsoanopportunityofferedtogothere——asifthesinofchildishaudacityweretobevisitedonmymaturehead。Yes。
　　Ididgothere：THEREbeingtheregionofStanleyFalls，whichin’68wastheblankestofblankspacesontheearth’sfiguredsurface。AndtheMS。of"Almayer’sFolly，"carriedaboutmeasifitwereatalismanoratreasure，wentTHERE，too。ThatitevercameoutofTHEREseemsaspecialdispensationofProvidence，becauseagoodmanyofmyotherproperties，infinitelymorevaluableandusefultome，remainedbehindthroughunfortunateaccidentsoftransportation。Icalltomind，forinstance，aspeciallyawkwardturnoftheCongobetweenKinchassaandLeopoldsville——moreparticularlywhenonehadtotakeitatnightinabigcanoewithonlyhalfthepropernumberofpaddlers。Ifailedinbeingthesecondwhitemanonrecorddrownedatthatinterestingspotthroughtheupsettingofacanoe。ThefirstwasayoungBelgianofficer，buttheaccidenthappenedsomemonthsbeforemytime，andhe，too，Ibelieve，wasgoinghome;notperhapsquitesoillasmyself——butstillhewasgoinghome。Igotroundtheturnmoreorlessalive，thoughI
　　wastoosicktocarewhetherIdidornot，and，alwayswith"Almayer’sFolly"amongmydiminishingbaggage，Iarrivedatthatdelectablecapital，Boma，where，beforethedepartureofthesteamerwhichwastotakemehome，Ihadthetimetowishmyselfdeadoverandoveragainwithperfectsincerity。Atthatdatetherewereinexistenceonlysevenchaptersof"Almayer’sFolly，"
　　butthechapterinmyhistorywhichfollowedwasthatofalong，longillnessandverydismalconvalescence。Geneva，ormorepreciselythehydropathicestablishmentofChampel，isrenderedforeverfamousbytheterminationoftheeighthchapterinthehistoryofAlmayer’sdeclineandfall。Theeventsoftheninthareinextricablymixedupwiththedetailsofthepropermanagementofawatersidewarehouseownedbyacertaincityfirmwhosenamedoesnotmatter。Butthatwork，undertakentoaccustommyselfagaintotheactivitiesofahealthyexistence，sooncametoanend。Theearthhadnothingtoholdmewithforverylong。Andthenthatmemorablestory，likeacaskofchoiceMadeira，gotcarriedforthreeyearstoandfrouponthesea。
　　Whetherthistreatmentimproveditsflavourornot，ofcourseI
　　wouldnotliketosay。Asfarasappearanceisconcerneditcertainlydidnothingofthekind。ThewholeMS。acquiredafadedlookandanancient，yellowishcomplexion。ItbecameatlastunreasonabletosupposethatanythingintheworldwouldeverhappentoAlmayerandNina。Andyetsomethingmostunlikelytohappenonthehighseaswastowakethemupfromtheirstateofsuspendedanimation。
　　WhatisitthatNovalissays："Itiscertainmyconvictiongainsinfinitelythemomentanothersoulwillbelieveinit。"Andwhatisanovelifnotaconvictionofourfellow-men’sexistencestrongenoughtotakeuponitselfaformofimaginedlifeclearerthanrealityandwhoseaccumulatedverisimilitudeofselectedepisodesputstoshametheprideofdocumentaryhistory。
　　ProvidencewhichsavedmyMS。fromtheCongorapidsbroughtittotheknowledgeofahelpfulsoulfaroutontheopensea。Itwouldbeonmypartthegreatestingratitudeevertoforgetthesallow，sunkenfaceandthedeep-set，darkeyesoftheyoungCambridgeman（hewasa"passengerforhishealth"onboardthegoodshipTorrensoutwardboundtoAustralia）whowasthefirstreaderof"Almayer’sFolly"——theveryfirstreaderIeverhad。
　　"WoulditboreyouverymuchinreadingaMS。inahandwritinglikemine？"Iaskedhimoneevening，onasuddenimpulseattheendofalongishconversationwhosesubjectwasGibbon’sHistory。
　　Jacques（thatwashisname）wassittinginmycabinonestormydog-watchbelow，afterbringmeabooktoreadfromhisowntravellingstore。
　　"Notatall，"heanswered，withhiscourteousintonationandafaintsmile。AsIpulledadraweropenhissuddenlyarousedcuriositygavehimawatchfulexpression。Iwonderwhatheexpectedtosee。Apoem，maybe。Allthat’sbeyondguessingnow。
　　Hewasnotacold，butacalmman，stillmoresubduedbydisease——amanoffewwordsandofanunassumingmodestyingeneralintercourse，butwithsomethinguncommoninthewholeofhispersonwhichsethimapartfromtheundistinguishedlotofoursixtypassengers。Hiseyeshadathoughtful，introspectivelook。Inhisattractivereservedmannerandinaveiledsympatheticvoiceheasked：
　　"Whatisthis？""Itisasortoftale，"Ianswered，withaneffort。"Itisnotevenfinishedyet。Nevertheless，Iwouldliketoknowwhatyouthinkofit。"HeputtheMS。inthebreast-pocketofhisjacket;Irememberperfectlyhisthin，brownfingersfoldingitlengthwise。"Iwillreaditto-morrow，"heremarked，seizingthedoorhandle;andthenwatchingtherolloftheshipforapropitiousmoment，heopenedthedoorandwasgone。InthemomentofhisexitIheardthesustainedboomingofthewind，theswishofthewateronthedecksoftheTorrens，andthesubdued，asifdistant，roaroftherisingsea。Inotedthegrowingdisquietinthegreatrestlessnessoftheocean，andrespondedprofessionallytoitwiththethoughtthatateighto’clock，inanotherhalfhourorsoatthefarthest，thetopgallantsailswouldhavetocomeofftheship。
　　Nextday，butthistimeinthefirstdogwatch，Jacquesenteredmycabin。Hehadathickwoollenmufflerroundhisthroat，andtheMS。wasinhishand。Hetenderedittomewithasteadylook，butwithoutaword。Itookitinsilence。Hesatdownonthecouchandstillsaidnothing。Iopenedandshutadrawerundermydesk，onwhichafilled-uplog-slatelaywideopeninitswoodenframewaitingtobecopiedneatlyintothesortofbookIwasaccustomedtowritewithcare，theship’slog-book。I
　　turnedmybacksquarelyonthedesk。AndeventhenJacquesneverofferedaword。"Well，whatdoyousay？"Iaskedatlast。"Isitworthfinishing？"Thisquestionexpressedexactlythewholeofmythoughts。
　　"Distinctly，"heanswered，inhissedate，veiledvoice，andthencoughedalittle。
　　"Wereyouinterested？"Iinquiredfurther，almostinawhisper。
　　"Verymuch！"
　　InapauseIwentonmeetinginstinctivelytheheavyrollingoftheship，andJacquesputhisfeetuponthecouch。Thecurtainofmybed-placeswungtoandfroasifitwereapunkah，thebulkheadlampcircledinitsgimbals，andnowandthenthecabindoorrattledslightlyinthegustsofwind。Itwasinlatitude40south，andnearlyinthelongitudeofGreenwich，asfarasI
　　canremember，thatthesequietritesofAlmayer’sandNina’sresurrectionweretakingplace。Intheprolongedsilenceitoccurredtomethattherewasagooddealofretrospectivewritinginthestoryasfarasitwent。Wasitintelligibleinitsaction，Iaskedmyself，asifalreadythestory-tellerwerebeingbornintothebodyofaseaman。ButIheardondeckthewhistleoftheofficerofthewatchandremainedonthealerttocatchtheorderthatwastofollowthiscalltoattention。Itreachedmeasafaint，fierceshoutto"Squaretheyards。""Aha！"
　　Ithoughttomyself，"awesterlyblowcomingon。"ThenIturnedtomyveryfirstreader，who，alas！wasnottolivelongenoughtoknowtheendofthetale。
　　"Nowletmeaskyouonemorething：isthestoryquitecleartoyouasitstands？"
　　Heraisedhisdark，gentleeyestomyfaceandseemedsurprised。
　　"Yes！Perfectly。"
　　ThiswasallIwastohearfromhislipsconcerningthemeritsof"Almayer’sFolly。"Weneverspoketogetherofthebookagain。A
　　longperiodofbadweathersetinandIhadnothoughtsleftbutformyduties，whilepoorJacquescaughtafatalcoldandhadtokeepcloseinhiscabin。WhenwearrivedinAdelaidethefirstreaderofmyprosewentatonceup-country，anddiedrathersuddenlyintheend，eitherinAustraliaoritmaybeonthepassagewhilegoinghomethroughtheSuezCanal。Iamnotsurewhichitwasnow，andIdonotthinkIeverheardprecisely;
　　thoughImadeinquiriesabouthimfromsomeofourreturnpassengerswho，wanderingaboutto"seethecountry"duringtheship’sstayinport，hadcomeuponhimhereandthere。Atlastwesailed，homewardbound，andstillnotonelinewasaddedtothecarelessscrawlofthemanypageswhichpoorJacqueshadhadthepatiencetoreadwiththeveryshadowsofEternitygatheringalreadyinthehollowsofhiskind，steadfasteyes。
　　Thepurposeinstilledintomebyhissimpleandfinal"Distinctly"remaineddormant，yetalivetoawaititsopportunity。IdaresayIamcompelled——unconsciouslycompelled——nowtowritevolumeaftervolume，asinpastyearsI
　　wascompelledtogotoseavoyageaftervoyage。Leavesmustfollowupononeanotherasleaguesusedtofollowinthedaysgoneby，onandontotheappointedend，which，beingTruthitself，isOne——oneforallmenandforalloccupations。
　　Idonotknowwhichofthetwoimpulseshasappearedmoremysteriousandmorewonderfultome。Still，inwriting，asingoingtosea，Ihadtowaitmyopportunity。LetmeconfessherethatIwasneveroneofthosewonderfulfellowsthatwouldgoafloatinawash-tubforthesakeofthefun，andifImaypridemyselfuponmyconsistency，itwaseverjustthesamewithmywriting。Somemen，Ihaveheard，writeinrailwaycarriages，andcoulddoit，perhaps，sittingcrossed-leggedonaclothes-line;
　　butImustconfessthatmysybariticdispositionwillnotconsenttowritewithoutsomethingatleastresemblingachair。Linebyline，ratherthanpagebypage，wasthegrowthof"Almayer’sFolly。"
　　AndsoithappenedthatIverynearlylosttheMS。，advancednowtothefirstwordsoftheninthchapter，intheFriedrichstrassePoland，ormorepreciselytoUkraine。Onanearly，sleepymorningchangingtrainsinahurryIleftmyGladstonebaginarefreshment-room。AworthyandintelligentKoffertragerrescuedit。YetinmyanxietyIwasnotthinkingoftheMS。，butofalltheotherthingsthatwerepackedinthebag。
　　InWarsaw，whereIspenttwodays，thosewanderingpageswereneverexposedtothelight，exceptoncetocandle-light，whilethebaglayopenonthechair。Iwasdressinghurriedlytodineatasportingclub。Afriendofmychildhood（hehadbeenintheDiplomaticService，buthadturnedtogrowingwheatonpaternalacres，andwehadnotseeneachotherforovertwentyyears）wassittingonthehotelsofawaitingtocarrymeoffthere。
　　"Youmighttellmesomethingofyourlifewhileyouaredressing，"hesuggested，kindly。
　　IdonotthinkItoldhimmuchofmylifestoryeitherthenorlater。Thetalkoftheselectlittlepartywithwhichhemademedinewasextremelyanimatedandembracedmostsubjectsunderheaven，frombig-gameshootinginAfricatothelastpoempublishedinaverymodernistreview，editedbytheveryyoungandpatronizedbythehighestsociety。Butitnevertouchedupon"Almayer’sFolly，"andnextmorning，inuninterruptedobscurity，thisinseparablecompanionwentonrollingwithmeinthesoutheastdirectiontowardthegovernmentofKiev。
　　Atthattimetherewasaneighthours’drive，ifnotmore，fromtherailwaystationtothecountry-housewhichwasmydestination。
　　"Dearboy"（thesewordswerealwayswritteninEnglish），soranthelastletterfromthathousereceivedinLondon——"Getyourselfdriventotheonlyinnintheplace，dineaswellasyoucan，andsometimeintheeveningmyownconfidentialservant，factotumandmajordomo，aMr。V。S。（Iwarnyouheisofnobleextraction），willpresenthimselfbeforeyou，reportingthearrivalofthesmallsledgewhichwilltakeyouhereonthenextday。Isendwithhimmyheaviestfur，whichIsupposewithsuchovercoatsasyoumayhavewithyouwillkeepyoufromfreezingontheroad。"
　　Sureenough，asIwasdining，servedbyaHebrewwaiter，inanenormousbarn-likebedroomwithafreshlypaintedfloor，thedooropenedand，inatravellingcostumeoflongboots，bigsheepskincap，andashortcoatgirtwithaleatherbelt，theMr。V。S。（ofnobleextraction），amanofaboutthirty-five，appearedwithanairofperplexityonhisopenandmustachedcountenance。IgotupfromthetableandgreetedhiminPolish，with，Ihope，therightshadeofconsiderationdemandedbyhisnoblebloodandhisconfidentialposition。Hisfaceclearedupinawonderfulway。
　　Itappearedthat，notwithstandingmyuncle’searnestassurances，thegoodfellowhadremainedindoubtofourunderstandingeachother。HeimaginedIwouldtalktohiminsomeforeignlanguage。
　　Iwastoldthathislastwordsongettingintothesledgetocometomeetmeshapedananxiousexclamation：
　　"Well！Well！HereIamgoing，butGodonlyknowshowIamtomakemyselfunderstoodtoourmaster’snephew。"
　　Weunderstoodeachotherverywellfromthefirst。HetookchargeofmeasifIwerenotquiteofage。Ihadadelightfulboyishfeelingofcominghomefromschoolwhenhemuffledmeupnextmorninginanenormousbearskintravelling-coatandtookhisseatprotectivelybymyside。Thesledgewasaverysmallone，anditlookedutterlyinsignificant，almostlikeatoybehindthefourbigbaysharnessedtwoandtwo。Wethree，countingthecoachman，filleditcompletely。Hewasayoungfellowwithclearblueeyes;thehighcollarofhisliveryfurcoatframedhischeerycountenanceandstoodallroundlevelwiththetopofhishead。
　　"Now，Joseph，"mycompanionaddressedhim，"doyouthinkweshallmanagetogethomebeforesix？"Hisanswerwasthatwewouldsurely，withGod’shelp，andprovidingtherewerenoheavydriftsinthelongstretchbetweencertainvillageswhosenamescamewithanextremelyfamiliarsoundtomyears。Heturnedoutanexcellentcoachman，withaninstinctforkeepingtheroadamongthesnow-coveredfieldsandanaturalgiftofgettingthebestoutofhishorses。
　　"HeisthesonofthatJosephthatIsupposetheCaptainremembers。HewhousedtodrivetheCaptain’slategrandmotherofholymemory，"remarkedV。S。，busytuckingfurrugsaboutmyfeet。
　　IrememberedperfectlythetrustyJosephwhousedtodrivemygrandmother。Why！heitwaswholetmeholdthereinsforthefirsttimeinmylifeandallowedmetoplaywiththegreatfour-in-handwhipoutsidethedoorsofthecoach-house。
　　"Whatbecameofhim？"Iasked。"Heisnolongerserving，I
　　suppose。"
　　"Heservedourmaster，"wasthereply。"Buthediedofcholeratenyearsagonow——thatgreatepidemicthatwehad。Andhiswifediedatthesametime——thewholehousefulofthem，andthisistheonlyboythatwasleft。"
　　TheMS。of"Almayer’sFolly"wasreposinginthebagunderourfeet。
　　IsawagainthesunsettingontheplainsasIsawitinthetravelsofmychildhood。Itset，clearandred，dippingintothesnowinfullviewasifitweresettingonthesea。Itwastwenty-threeyearssinceIhadseenthesunsetoverthatland;
　　andwedroveoninthedarknesswhichfellswiftlyuponthelividexpanseofsnowstill，outofthewasteofawhiteearthjoiningabestarredsky，surgedupblackshapes，theclumpsoftreesaboutavillageoftheUkrainianplain。Acottageortwoglidedby，alowinterminablewall，andthen，glimmeringandwinkingthroughascreenoffir-trees，thelightsofthemaster’shouse。
　　ThatveryeveningthewanderingMS。of"Almayer’sFolly"wasunpackedandunostentatiouslylaidonthewriting-tableinmyroom，theguest-roomwhichhadbeen，Iwasinformedinanaffectionatelycarelesstone，awaitingmeforsomefifteenyearsorso。Itattractednoattentionfromtheaffectionatepresencehoveringroundthesonofthefavouritesister。
　　"Youwon’thavemanyhourstoyourselfwhileyouarestayingwithme，brother，"hesaid——thisformofaddressborrowedfromthespeechofourpeasantsbeingtheusualexpressionofthehighestgoodhumourinamomentofaffectionateelation。"Ishallbealwayscominginforachat。"
　　Asamatteroffact，wehadthewholehousetochatin，andwereeverlastinglyintrudinguponeachother。Iinvadedtheretirementofhisstudywheretheprincipalfeaturewasacolossalsilverinkstandpresentedtohimonhisfiftiethyearbyasubscriptionofallhiswardsthenliving。Hehadbeenguardianofmanyorphansofland-owningfamiliesfromthethreesouthernprovinces——eversincetheyear1860。Someofthemhadbeenmyschoolfellowsandplaymates，butnotoneofthem，girlsorboys，thatIknowofhaseverwrittenanovel。Oneortwowereolderthanmyself——considerablyolder，too。Oneofthem，avisitorIrememberinmyearlyyears，wasthemanwhofirstputmeonhorseback，andhisfour-horsebachelorturnout，hisperfecthorsemanshipandgeneralskillinmanlyexercises，wasoneofmyearliestadmirations。Iseemtoremembermymotherlookingonfromacolonnadeinfrontofthedining-roomwindowsasIwaslifteduponthepony，held，forallIknow，bytheveryJoseph——
　　thegroomattachedspeciallytomygrandmother’sservice——whodiedofcholera。Itwascertainlyayoungmaninadark-blue，taillesscoatandhugeCossacktrousers，thatbeingtheliveryofthemenaboutthestables。Itmusthavebeenin1864，butreckoningbyanothermodeofcalculatingtime，itwascertainlyintheyearinwhichmymotherobtainedpermissiontotravelsouthandvisitherfamily，fromtheexileintowhichshehadfollowedmyfather。Forthat，too，shehadhadtoaskpermission，andIknowthatoneoftheconditionsofthatfavourwasthatsheshouldbetreatedexactlyasacondemnedexileherself。Yetacoupleofyearslater，inmemoryofhereldestbrother，whohadservedintheGuardsanddyingearlylefthostsoffriendsandalovedmemoryinthegreatworldofSt。
　　Petersburg，someinfluentialpersonagesprocuredforherthispermission——itwasofficiallycalledthe"HighestGrace"——ofafourmonths’leavefromexile。
　　ThisisalsotheyearinwhichIfirstbegintoremembermymotherwithmoredistinctnessthanamereloving，wide-browed，silent，protectingpresence，whoseeyeshadasortofcommandingsweetness;andIalsorememberthegreatgatheringofalltherelationsfromnearandfar，andthegrayheadsofthefamilyfriendspayingherthehomageofrespectandloveinthehouseofherfavouritebrother，who，afewyearslater，wastotaketheplaceformeofbothmyparents。
　　Ididnotunderstandthetragicsignificanceofitallatthetime，though，indeed，Irememberthatdoctorsalsocame。Therewerenosignsofinvalidismabouther——butIthinkthatalreadytheyhadpronouncedherdoomunlessperhapsthechangetoasouthernclimatecouldre-establishherdecliningstrength。Formeitseemstheveryhappiestperiodofmyexistence。Therewasmycousin，adelightful，quick-temperedlittlegirl，somemonthsyoungerthanmyself，whoselife，lovinglywatchedoverasifshewerearoyalprincess，cametoanendwithherfifteenthyear。
　　Therewereotherchildren，too，manyofwhomaredeadnow，andnotafewwhoseverynamesIhaveforgotten。OverallthishungtheoppressiveshadowofthegreatRussianempire——theshadowloweringwiththedarknessofanew-bornnationalhatredfosteredbytheMoscowschoolofjournalistsagainstthePolesaftertheill-omenedrisingof1863。
　　ThisisafarcrybackfromtheMS。of"Almayer’sFolly，"butthepublicrecordoftheseformativeimpressionsisnotthewhimofanuneasyegotism。These，too，arethingshuman，alreadydistantintheirappeal。Itismeetthatsomethingmoreshouldbeleftforthenovelist’schildrenthanthecoloursandfiguresofhisownhard-woncreation。Thatwhichintheirgrown-upyearsmayappeartotheworldaboutthemasthemostenigmaticsideoftheirnaturesandperhapsmustremainforeverobscureeventothemselves，willbetheirunconsciousresponsetothestillvoiceofthatinexorablepastfromwhichhisworkoffictionandtheirpersonalitiesareremotelyderived。
　　Onlyinmen’simaginationdoeseverytruthfindaneffectiveandundeniableexistence。Imagination，notinvention，isthesuprememasterofartasoflife。Animaginativeandexactrenderingofauthenticmemoriesmayserveworthilythatspiritofpietytowardallthingshumanwhichsanctionstheconceptionsofawriteroftales，andtheemotionsofthemanreviewinghisownexperience。
　　II
　　AsIhavesaid，IwasunpackingmyluggageafterajourneyfromLondonintoUkraine。TheMS。of"Almayer’sFolly"——mycompanionalreadyforsomethreeyearsormore，andthenintheninthchapterofitsage——wasdepositedunostentatiouslyonthewriting-tableplacedbetweentwowindows。Itdidn’toccurtometoputitawayinthedrawerthetablewasfittedwith，butmyeyewasattractedbythegoodformofthesamedrawer’sbrasshandles。Twocandelabra，withfourcandleseach，lightedupfestallytheroomwhichhadwaitedsomanyyearsforthewanderingnephew。Theblindsweredown。
　　WithinfivehundredyardsofthechaironwhichIsatstoodthefirstpeasanthutofthevillage——partofmymaternalgrandfather’sestate，theonlypartremaininginthepossessionofamemberofthefamily;andbeyondthevillageinthelimitlessblacknessofawinter’snighttherelaythegreatunfencedfields——notaflatandsevereplain，butakindlybread-
　　givinglandoflowroundedridges，allwhitenow，withtheblackpatchesoftimbernestlinginthehollows。TheroadbywhichI
　　hadcomeranthroughthevillagewithaturnjustoutsidethegatesclosingtheshortdrive。Somebodywasabroadonthedeepsnowtrack;aquicktinkleofbellsstolegraduallyintothestillnessoftheroomlikeatunefulwhisper。
　　Myunpackinghadbeenwatchedoverbytheservantwhohadcometohelpme，and，forthemostpart，hadbeenstandingattentivebutunnecessaryatthedooroftheroom。Ididnotwanthimintheleast，butIdidnotliketotellhimtogoaway。Hewasayoungfellow，certainlymorethantenyearsyoungerthanmyself;Ihadnotbeen——Iwon’tsayinthatplace，butwithinsixtymilesofit，eversincetheyear’67;yethisguilelessphysiognomyoftheopenpeasanttypeseemedstrangelyfamiliar。Itwasquitepossiblethathemighthavebeenadescendant，ason，orevenagrandson，oftheservantswhosefriendlyfaceshadbeenfamiliartomeinmyearlychildhood。Asamatteroffacthehadnosuchclaimonmyconsideration。Hewastheproductofsomevillagenearbyandwasthereonhispromotion，havinglearnedtheserviceinoneortwohousesaspantryboy。IknowthisbecauseIaskedtheworthyV————nextday。Imightwellhavesparedthequestion。Idiscoveredbeforelongthatallthefacesaboutthehouseandallthefacesinthevillage：thegravefaceswithlongmustachesoftheheadsoffamilies，thedownyfacesoftheyoungmen，thefacesofthelittlefair-hairedchildren，thehandsome，tanned，wide-browedfacesofthemothersseenatthedoorsofthehuts，wereasfamiliartomeasthoughIhadknownthemallfromchildhoodandmychildhoodwereamatterofthedaybeforeyesterday。
　　Thetinkleofthetraveller’sbells，aftergrowinglouder，hadfadedawayquickly，andthetumultofbarkingdogsinthevillagehadcalmeddownatlast。Myuncle，lounginginthecornerofasmallcouch，smokedhislongTurkishchiboukinsilence。
　　"Thisisanextremelynicewriting-tableyouhavegotformyroom，"Iremarked。
　　"Itisreallyyourproperty，"hesaid，keepinghiseyesonme，withaninterestedandwistfulexpression，ashehaddoneeversinceIhadenteredthehouse。"Fortyyearsagoyourmotherusedtowriteatthisverytable。InourhouseinOratow，itstoodinthelittlesitting-roomwhich，byatacitarrangement，wasgivenuptothegirls——Imeantoyourmotherandhersisterwhodiedsoyoung。ItwasapresenttothemjointlyfromyouruncleNicholasB。whenyourmotherwasseventeenandyouraunttwoyearsyounger。Shewasaverydear，delightfulgirl，thatauntofyours，ofwhomIsupposeyouknownothingmorethanthename。
　　Shedidnotshinesomuchbypersonalbeautyandacultivatedmindinwhichyourmotherwasfarsuperior。Itwashergoodsense，theadmirablesweetnessofhernature，herexceptionalfacilityandeaseindailyrelations，thatendearedhertoeverybody。Herdeathwasaterriblegriefandaseriousmorallossforusall。Hadshelivedshewouldhavebroughtthegreatestblessingstothehouseitwouldhavebeenherlottoenter，aswife，mother，andmistressofahousehold。Shewouldhavecreatedroundherselfanatmosphereofpeaceandcontentwhichonlythosewhocanloveunselfishlyareabletoevoke。Yourmother——offargreaterbeauty，exceptionallydistinguishedinperson，manner，andintellect——hadalesseasydisposition。
　　Beingmorebrilliantlygifted，shealsoexpectedmorefromlife。
　　Atthattryingtimeespecially，weweregreatlyconcernedaboutherstate。Sufferinginherhealthfromtheshockofherfather’sdeath（shewasaloneinthehousewithhimwhenhediedsuddenly），shewastornbytheinwardstrugglebetweenherloveforthemanwhomshewastomarryintheendandherknowledgeofherdeadfather’sdeclaredobjectiontothatmatch。Unabletobringherselftodisregardthatcherishedmemoryandthatjudgmentshehadalwaysrespectedandtrusted，and，ontheotherhand，feelingtheimpossibilitytoresistasentimentsodeepandsotrue，shecouldnothavebeenexpectedtopreservehermentalandmoralbalance。Atwarwithherself，shecouldnotgivetoothersthatfeelingofpeacewhichwasnotherown。Itwasonlylater，whenunitedatlastwiththemanofherchoice，thatshedevelopedthoseuncommongiftsofmindandheartwhichcompelledtherespectandadmirationevenofourfoes。Meetingwithcalmfortitudethecrueltrialsofalifereflectingallthenationalandsocialmisfortunesofthecommunity，sherealizedthehighestconceptionsofdutyasawife，amother，andapatriot，sharingtheexileofherhusbandandrepresentingnoblytheidealofPolishwomanhood。OuruncleNicholaswasnotamanveryaccessibletofeelingsofaffection。ApartfromhisworshipforNapoleontheGreat，helovedreally，Ibelieve，onlythreepeopleintheworld：hismother——yourgreat-grandmother，whomyouhaveseenbutcannotpossiblyremember;hisbrother，ourfather，inwhosehousehelivedforsomanyyears;andofallofus，hisnephewsandniecesgrownuparoundhim，yourmotheralone。Themodest，lovablequalitiesoftheyoungestsisterhedidnotseemabletosee。ItwasIwhofeltmostprofoundlythisunexpectedstrokeofdeathfallinguponthefamilylessthanayearafterI
　　hadbecomeitshead。Itwasterriblyunexpected。Drivinghomeonewintryafternoontokeepmecompanyinouremptyhouse，whereIhadtoremainpermanentlyadministeringtheestateandattendingtothecomplicatedaffairs——（thegirlstookitinturnweekandweekabout）——driving，asIsaid，fromthehouseoftheCountessTeklaPotocka，whereourinvalidmotherwasstayingthentobenearadoctor，theylosttheroadandgotstuckinasnowdrift。ShewasalonewiththecoachmanandoldValery，thepersonalservantofourlatefather。Impatientofdelaywhiletheyweretryingtodigthemselvesout，shejumpedoutofthesledgeandwenttolookfortheroadherself。Allthishappenedin’51，nottenmilesfromthehouseinwhichwearesittingnow。
　　Theroadwassoonfound，butsnowhadbeguntofallthicklyagain，andtheywerefourmorehoursgettinghome。Boththementookofftheirsheepskinlinedgreatcoatsandusedalltheirownrugstowrapherupagainstthecold，notwithstandingherprotests，positiveorders，andevenstruggles，asValeryafterwardrelatedtome。’HowcouldI，’heremonstratedwithher，’gotomeettheblessedsoulofmylatemasterifIletanyharmcometoyouwhilethere’sasparkoflifeleftinmybody？’
　　Whentheyreachedhomeatlastthepooroldmanwasstiffandspeechlessfromexposure，andthecoachmanwasinnotmuchbetterplight，thoughhehadthestrengthtodriveroundtothestableshimself。Tomyreproachesforventuringoutatallinsuchweather，sheanswered，characteristically，thatshecouldnotbearthethoughtofabandoningmetomycheerlesssolitude。Itisincomprehensiblehowitwasthatshewasallowedtostart。I
　　supposeithadtobe！Shemadelightofthecoughwhichcameonnextday，butshortlyafterwardinflammationofthelungssetin，andinthreeweeksshewasnomore！Shewasthefirsttobetakenawayoftheyounggenerationundermycare。Beholdthevanityofallhopesandfears！Iwasthemostfrailatbirthofallthechildren。ForyearsIremainedsodelicatethatmyparentshadbutlittlehopeofbringingmeup;andyetIhavesurvivedfivebrothersandtwosisters，andmanyofmycontemporaries;Ihaveoutlivedmywifeanddaughter，too——andfromallthosewhohavehadsomeknowledgeatleastoftheseoldtimesyoualoneareleft。Ithasbeenmylottolayinanearlygravemanyhonesthearts，manybrilliantpromises，manyhopesfulloflife。"
　　Hegotupbriskly，sighed，andleftmesaying，"Wewilldineinhalfanhour。"
　　Withoutmoving，Ilistenedtohisquickstepsresoundingonthewaxedfloorofthenextroom，traversingtheanteroomlinedwithbookshelves，wherehepausedtoputhischiboukinthepipe-standbeforepassingintothedrawing-room（thesewereallensuite），wherehebecameinaudibleonthethickcarpet。ButIheardthedoorofhisstudy-bedroomclose。Hewasthensixty-twoyearsoldandhadbeenforaquarterofacenturythewisest，thefirmest，themostindulgentofguardians，extendingovermeapaternalcareandaffection，amoralsupportwhichIseemedtofeelalwaysnearmeinthemostdistantpartsoftheearth。