In an account of the friendship of Melville and Hawthorne, there is an interesting recollection on the side of Hawthorne about his last meeting with Melville "in November 1856: en route to the Mediterranean Melville stopped in Liverpool, where Hawthorne had been appointed American Consul; the two spent several days together, which Hawthorne recorded in his journal as follows:
"Herman Melville came to see me at the Consulate, looking much as he used to do (a little paler, and perhaps a little sadder), in a rough outside coat, and with his characteristic gravity and reserve of manner.... [W]e soon found ourselves on pretty much our former terms of sociability and confidence. Melville has not been well, of late; ... and no doubt has suffered from too constant literary occupation, pursued without much success, latterly; and his writings, for a long while past, have indicated a morbid state of mind.... Melville, as he always does, began to reason of Providence and futurity, and of everything that lies beyond human ken, and informed me that he had "pretty much made up his mind to be annihilated"; but still he does not seem to rest in that anticipation; and, I think, will never rest until he gets hold of a definite belief. It is strange how he persists -- and has persisted ever since I knew him, and probably long before -- in wondering to-and-fro over these deserts, as dismal and monotonous as the sand hills amid which we were sitting. He can neither believe, nor be comfortable in his unbelief; and he is too honest and courageous not to try to do one or the other. If he were a religious man, he would be one of the most truly religious and reverential; he has a very high and noble nature, and better worth immortality than most of us."
Melville is being characterized here in some of the words he used himself for the characterization of his Moby Dick characters: The morbid state of mind reminds of the "damp, drizzly November in my soul", Ishmaels condition upon embarking upon his journey for Truth. And just as Ahab, heis described as having a "very high and noble nature", and has chosen not to care about society any longer, "to be annihilated" and go his own way - just as Ahab did.
What ways these are: they lead him "wondering to-and-fro over these deserts, as dismal and monotonous as (...) sand hills." Whoever doesn't feel reminded of Melville's description of the sea hasn't read Moby Dick. As for the wondering, it is a wandering over the planes of life, be they water or desert. Never arrives he at a point of final Truth: "He can neither believe, nor be comfortable in his unbelief; and he is too honest and courageous not to try to do one or the other." Melville, honest and courageous, will try everything - he is a candidate for any covenant himself. It may be noted that his wandering between belief and unbelief is characteristic of his time, the Romantic age, as it is a wandering between the old concept of the Truth out there to be found, and the Truth to be constructed.
To the late philosopher Isaiah Berlin, we owe the insight that
"Until the Romantics came along there was only one answer to any question. Truth was one; error was many. You might not know it, you might be too benighted to find it, but there must be one answer. The Romantics said the same question can have more than one answer. The Romantics were the first to say the answer was not something built into the universe."
So finally, having read Moby Dick and discovered our Truth there, may we not comfort Melville that preaching about the Truth - preaching the nature of the Truth - could prove as truthful as it can possibly be? Because preaching about the Truth and preaching the Truth itself may well be the same, just as not merely the discovery of Truth, but already the search for it dignifies ourselves and makes us "very high and noble in nature", as Hawthorne said. Then, Melville's account of Moby Dick is a sermon on Truth and our search for it. And it can finally be said that with his book Melville does what Jonah did when he did the Almighty's bidding: To preach the Truth to the face of Falsehood! That was it!" (p. 54).