The Magyar Venus

PROLOGUE

March 3, 1900—

I am quite decided that I will travel. Indeed I feel quite giddy at the prospect. Given my change of circumstances, I can see no real impediment. Of those attributes which Mr. Galton considers prerequisites to travel—health, craving for adventure, a moderate fortune, and a definite objective which would not be thought impracticable by experienced travellers—I enjoy the first two in abundance. As to the last, I am convinced that while many of my acquaintance will think me mad, those who have already experienced travel would not find what I propose to be without merit. It is true that I lack even a moderate fortune, but I have a modest income, and, as Mr. Galton advises, some men are known to support themselves by travel. It may well be that, as is my goal, I will find objects of natural history that will be of sufficient interest on my return that I may recover some part of my expenses.

In preparation, I have read Mr. Galton's most excellent book, and indeed attended one of his lectures three years ago. His subject that evening unfortunately was not advice to travellers but rather his theories on what he calls eugenics, with which I simply cannot agree. One cannot doubt the passion he brings to his beliefs, but for my part, I find his ideas on the restriction of marriage to only the most physically and mentally fit a perversion of the scholarship of Mr. Darwin and Sir Charles, both of whom I have made the subjects of personal study. Indeed it is my careful perusal of Mr. Darwin's writings that encourages me in my objective, which is to find evidence that would support his theories. Mr. Galton's views on marriage do not seem to me to hold up to the rigour of even the most rudimentary observation. I myself have observed that some of the most unfortunate amongst us wher e the complexion is concerned have comely children, and madness does not always pass from generation to generation. But perhaps I am guilty in that latter statement of what I accuse Mr. Galton. I must believe that madness is not an inevitable result of procreation of those who are stricken by it.

Be that as it may, Mr. Galton's advice on travel seems to me to be worthy of some attention. He has, has he not, travelled extensively in some of the most inhospitable places. Having booked passage for a little less than a month hence, I have visited the shops of High Street and selected my travel attire with care, mindful of his instructions on the efficacy of flannel. As to what else I should take with me, I am quite unsure. Tea and biscuits, of course, and a pistol, a penknife, stationery, a few powders to treat mild affliction, sturdy boots and some instruments for my studies, a macintosh for inclement weather, and some sketching books. How I wish I knew more of the terrain I will visit.

As to what I will find I am even less certain. I will go down to London within the month, and thence to the continent. I take comfort in Mr. Galton's advice that savages rarely murder newcomers.