An Inland Voyage
by Robert Louis Stevenson
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
To equip so small a book with a
preface is, I am half afraid, to
sin against
proportion. But a
preface is more than an author can
resist, for it is the
reward of his labours. When the foundation
stone is laid, the
architect appears with his plans, and struts for
an hour before the public eye. So with the
writer in his
preface:
he may have never a word to say, but he must show himself for a
moment in the portico, hat in hand, and with an urbane demeanour.
It is best, in such circumstances, to represent a
delicate shade of
manner between
humility and
superiority: as if the book had been
written by some one else, and you had merely run over it and
inserted what was good. But for my part I have not yet
learned the
trick to that
perfection; I am not yet able to dissemble the warmth
of my
sentiments towards a reader; and if I meet him on the
threshold, it is to invite him in with country cordiality.
To say truth, I had no sooner finished
reading this little book in
proof, than I was seized upon by a distressing
apprehension. It
occurred to me that I might not only be the first to read these
pages, but the last as well; that I might have pioneered this very
smiling tract of country all in vain, and find not a soul to follow
in my steps. The more I thought, the more I disliked the notion;
until the distaste grew into a sort of panic
terror, and I rushed
into this Preface, which is no more than an
advertisement for
readers.
What am I to say for my book? Caleb and Joshua brought back from
Palestine a
formidable bunch of grapes; alas! my book produces
naught so nourishing; and for the matter of that, we live in an age
when people prefer a
definition to any quantity of fruit.
I wonder, would a
negative be found enticing? for, from the
negative point of view, I
flatter myself this
volume has a certain
stamp. Although it runs to
considerablyupwards of two hundred
pages, it contains not a single
reference to the imbecility of
God's
universe, nor so much as a single hint that I could have made
a better one myself. - I really do not know where my head can have
been. I seem to have forgotten all that makes it
glorious to be
man. - 'Tis an
omission that renders the book philosophically
unimportant; but I am in hopes the eccentricity may please in
frivolous circles.
To the friend who accompanied me I owe many thanks already, indeed
I wish I owed him nothing else; but at this moment I feel towards
him an almost exaggerated
tenderness. He, at least, will become my
reader: - if it were only to follow his own travels
alongside of
mine.
R.L.S.
ANTWERP TO BOOM
WE made a great stir in Antwerp Docks. A stevedore and a lot of
dock porters took up the two canoes, and ran with them for the
slip. A crowd of children followed cheering. The CIGARETTE went
off in a
splash and a
bubble of small breaking water. Next moment
the ARETHUSA was after her. A
steamer was coming down, men on the
paddle-box shouted
hoarse warnings, the stevedore and his porters
were bawling from the quay. But in a stroke or two the canoes were
away out in the middle of the Scheldt, and all
steamers, and
stevedores, and other 'long-shore vanities were left behind.
The sun shone
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brightly; the tide was making - four jolly miles an
hour; the wind blew
steadily, with
occasional squalls. For my
part, I had never been in a canoe under sail in my life; and my
first experiment out in the middle of this big river was not made
without some trepidation. What would happen when the wind first
caught my little
canvas? I suppose it was almost as
trying a
venture into the regions of the unknown as to publish a first book,
or to marry. But my doubts were not of long
duration; and in five
minutes you will not be surprised to learn that I had tied my
sheet.
I own I was a little struck by this circumstance myself; of course,
in company with the rest of my fellow-men, I had always tied the
sheet in a sailing-boat; but in so little and crank a concern as a
canoe, and with these charging squalls, I was not prepared to find
myself follow the same principle; and it inspired me with some
contemptuous views of our regard for life. It is certainly easier
to smoke with the sheet fastened; but I had never before weighed a
comfortable pipe of
tobacco against an
obvious risk, and gravely
elected for the comfortable pipe. It is a
commonplace, that we
cannot answer for ourselves before we have been tried. But it is
not so common a
reflection, and surely more consoling, that we
usually find ourselves a great deal braver and better than we
thought. I believe this is every one's experience: but an
apprehension that they may belie themselves in the future prevents
mankind from trumpeting this
cheerfulsentimentabroad. I wish
sincerely, for it would have saved me much trouble, there had been
some one to put me in a good heart about life when I was younger;
to tell me how dangers are most portentous on a distant sight; and
how the good in a man's spirit will not suffer itself to be
overlaid, and
rarely or never deserts him in the hour of need. But
we are all for tootling on the
sentimental flute in
literature; and
not a man among us will go to the head of the march to sound the
heady drums.
It was
agreeable upon the river. A barge or two went past laden
with hay. Reeds and willows bordered the
stream; and cattle and
grey
venerable horses came and hung their mild heads over the
embankment. Here and there was a pleasant village among trees,
with a noisy shipping-yard; here and there a villa in a lawn. The
wind served us well up the Scheldt and
thereafter up the Rupel; and
we were
running pretty free when we began to sight the brickyards
of Boom, lying for a long way on the right bank of the river. The
left bank was still green and
pastoral, with alleys of trees along
the embankment, and here and there a
flight of steps to serve a
ferry, where perhaps there sat a woman with her elbows on her
knees, or an old gentleman with a staff and silver
spectacles. But
Boom and its brickyards grew smokier and shabbier with every
minute; until a great church with a clock, and a
woodenbridge over
the river, indicated the central quarters of the town.
Boom is not a nice place, and is only
remarkable for one thing:
that the majority of the inhabitants have a private opinion that
they can speak English, which is not justified by fact. This gave
a kind of haziness to our
intercourse. As for the Hotel de la
Navigation, I think it is the worst feature of the place. It
boasts of a sanded parlour, with a bar at one end, looking on the
street; and another sanded parlour, darker and colder, with an
empty bird-cage and a tricolour
subscription box by way of sole
adornment, where we made shift to dine in the company of three
uncommunicative engineer apprentices and a silent bagman. The
food, as usual in Belgium, was of a nondescript
occasionalcharacter; indeed I have never been able to
detect anything in the
nature of a meal among this
pleasing people; they seem to peck and
trifle with viands all day long in an
amateur spirit: tentatively
French, truly German, and somehow falling between the two.
The empty bird-cage, swept and garnished, and with no trace of the
old piping favourite, save where two wires had been pushed apart to
hold its lump of sugar, carried with it a sort of graveyard cheer.
The engineer apprentices would have nothing to say to us, nor
indeed to the bagman; but talked low and sparingly to one another,
or raked us in the gaslight with a gleam of
spectacles. For though
handsome lads, they were all (in the Scots phrase) barnacled.
There was an English maid in the hotel, who had been long enough
out of England to pick up all sorts of funny foreign idioms, and
all sorts of curious foreign ways, which need not here be
specified. She spoke to us very fluently in her jargon, asked us
information as to the manners of the present day in England, and
obligingly corrected us when we attempted to answer. But as we
were
dealing with a woman, perhaps our information was not so much
thrown away as it appeared. The sex likes to pick up knowledge and