178 
MOBY DICK; OR 
the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the 
milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a 
colour as the visible absence of colour, and at the same time the con- 
crete of all colours; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb 
blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows — a colourless, 
all-colour of atheism from which we shrink? And when we consider 
that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly 
hues — every stately or lovely emblazoning — the sweet tinges of sunset 
skies and woods ; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the but- 
terfly cheeks of young girls ; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually 
inherent in substance, but only laid on from without; and when we 
proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which pro- 
duces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever 
remains white or colourless in itself, and if operating without medium 
upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its 
own blank tinge — pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before 
us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear 
coloured and colouring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel 
gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all 
the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was 
the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt ? 
CHAPTER XLII 
HARK ! 
“Hist! Hid you hear that noise, Cabaco?” 
It was the middle-watch; a fair moonlight; the seamen were stand- 
ing in a cordon, extending from one of the fresh water butts in the 
waist, to the scuttle-butt near the taffrail. In this manner, they passed 
the buckets to fill the scuttle-butt. Standing, for the most part, on 
the hallowed precincts of the quarter-deck, they were careful not to 
speak or rustle their feet. From hand to hand, the buckets went in 
the deepest silence, only broken by the occasional flap of a sail, and the 
steady hum of the unceasingly advancing keel. 
It was in the midst of this repose, that Archy, one of the cordon, 
