“Money! it is a vile slave!—I have at present an œconomy of a more exalted kind to observe. I have the eyes of some of the first men of the first kingdom on earth turned upon me. I am engaged by those very men, in the most important object that any private individual can be engaged in: I have their approbation to acquire, or to lose; and their esteem also, which I prize beyond every thing, except the independent idea of serving mankind. Should rashness or desperation carry me through, whatever fame the vain and injudicious might bestow, I should not accept of it;—it is the good and great I look to: fame from them bestowed is altogether different, and is closely allied to a well-done from God: but rashness will not be likely to carry me through any more than timid caution. To find the necessary medium of conduct, to vary and apply it to contingencies, is the œconomy I allude to; and if I succeed by such means, men of sense in any succeeding epoch will not blush to follow me, and perfect those Discoveries I have only abilities to trace out roughly, or, a disposition to attempt.
“A Turkish sopha has no charms for me: if it had, I could soon obtain one here. I could to-morrow take the command of the best armament of Ishmael Bey.—I should be sure of success, and its consequential honours. Believe me, a single well-done from your Association has more worth in it to me, than all the trappings of the East; and what is still more precious, is, the pleasure I have in the justification of my own conduct at the tribunal of my own heart.”
To those who have never seen Mr. Ledyard, it may not, perhaps, be uninteresting to know, that his person, though scarcely exceeding the middle size, was remarkably expressive of activity and strength; and that his manners, though unpolished, were neither uncivil nor unpleasing. Little attentive to difference of rank, he seemed to consider all men as his equals, and as such he respected them. His genius, though uncultivated and irregular, was original and comprehensive. Ardent in his wishes, yet calm in his deliberations; daring in his purposes, but guarded in his measures; impatient of controul, yet capable of strong endurance; adventurous beyond the conception of ordinary men, yet wary and considerate, and attentive to all precautions, he appeared to be formed by Nature for atchievements of hardihood and peril.
They who compare the extent of his pilgrimage through the vast regions of Tartary with the scantiness of his funds, will naturally ask, by what means he obtained a subsistence on the road? All that I have ever learned from him on the subject, was, that his sufferings were excessive, and that more than once he owed his life to the compassionate temper of the women. This last remark is strongly confirmed by the following Extract from his account of his Siberian Tour:
“I have always remarked, that women, in all countries, are civil, obliging, tender, and humane; that they are ever inclined to be gay and chearful, timorous and modest; and that they do not hesitate, like men, to perform a generous action.—Not haughty, not arrogant, not supercilious, they are full of courtesy, and fond of society: more liable, in general, to err than man; but in general, also, more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. To a woman, whether civilized or savage, I never addressed myself in the language of decency and friendship, without receiving a decent and friendly answer. With man it has often been otherwise.
“In wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark, through honest Sweden, and frozen Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unprincipled Russia, and the wide spread regions of the wandering Tartar, if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, the women have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so; and to add to this virtue, (so worthy the appellation of benevolence) these actions have been performed in so free, and so kind a manner, that if I was dry, I drank the sweetest draught, and if hungry, I eat the coarse morsel with a double relish.”
But though the native benevolence, which even among Savages distinguishes and adorns the female character, might sometimes soften the severity of his sufferings, yet at others he seems to have endured the utmost pressure of distress.
“I am accustomed—(said he, in our last conversation—’twas on the morning of his departure for Africa)—I am accustomed to hardships. I have known both hunger and nakedness to the utmost extremity of human suffering. I have known what it is to have food given me as charity to a madman; and I have at times been obliged to shelter myself under the miseries of that character to avoid a heavier calamity. My distresses have been greater than I have ever owned, or ever will own to any man. Such evils are terrible to bear; but they never yet had power to turn me from my purpose. If I live, I will faithfully perform, in its utmost extent, my engagement to the Society; and if I perish in the attempt, my honour will still be safe, for death cancels all bonds.”