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MOBY DICK; OR 
gloating of their aspect. So that not the fierce-fanged tiger in his 
heraldic coat can so stagger courage as the white-shrouded bear or 
shark . 1 
Bethink thee of the albatross : whence come those clouds of spiritual 
wonderment and pale dread, in which that white phantom sails in all 
imaginations? Not Coleridge first threw that spell; but God’s great, 
unflattering laureate, Nature . 2 
1 With reference to the Polar bear, it may possibly be urged by him who 
would fain go still deeper into this matter, that it is not the whiteness, 
separately regarded, which heightens the intolerable hideousness of that 
brute; for, analysed, that heightened hideousness, it might be said, only arises 
from the circumstance, that the irresponsible ferociousness of the creature 
stands invested in the fleece of celestial innocence and love; and hence, by 
bringing together two such opposite emotions in our minds, the Polar benr 
frightens us with so unnatural a contrast. But even assuming all this to be 
true; yet, were it not for the whiteness, you would not have that intensified 
terror. 
As for the white shark, the white gliding ghostliness of repose in that 
creature, when beheld in his ordinary moods, strangely tallies with the same 
quality in the Polar quadruped. This peculiarity is most vividly hit by the 
Prench in the name they bestow upon that fish. The Komish mass for the 
dead begins with “Requiem eternam” (eternal rest), whence Requiem de- 
nominating the mass itself, and any other funereal music. Now in allusion 
to the white, silent stillness of death in this shark, and the mild deadliness 
of his habits, the French call him Requin. 
2 1 remember the first albatross I ever saw. It was during a prolonged 
gale, in waters hard upon the Antarctic seas. From my forenoon watch be- 
low, I ascended to the overclouded deck; and there, dashed upon the main 
hatches, I saw a regal, feathery thing of unspotted whiteness, and with a 
hooked, Roman bill sublime. At intervals, it arched forth its vast archangel 
wings, as if to embrace some holy ark. Wondrous flutterings and throb- 
bings shook it. Though bodily unharmed, it uttered cries, as some king’s 
ghost in supernatural distress. Through its inexpressible, strange eyes, me- 
thought I peeped to secrets not below the heavens. As Abraham before the 
angels, I bowed myself; the white thing was so white, its wings so wide, and 
in those for ever exiled waters, I had lost the miserable warping memories 
of traditions and of towns. Long I gazed at that prodigy of plumage. I 
cannot tell, can only hint, the things that darted through me then. But 
at last I awoke; and turning, asked a sailor what bird was this. A goney, 
he replied. Goney! I never had heard that name before; is it conceivable 
that this glorious thing is utterly unknown to men ashord! never! But 
some time after, I learned that goney was some seaman’s nanfe for albatross. 
So that by no possibility could Coleridge’s wild Rhyme have had aught to 
do with those mystical impressions which were mine, when I saw that bird 
upon our deck. For neither had I then read the Rhyme, nor knew the bird 
to be an albatross. Yet, in saying this, I do but indirectly burnish a little 
brighter the noble merit of the poem and the poet. 
I assert, then, that in the wondrous bodily whiteness of the bird chiefly 
