Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries—stand that man upon his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region…. Meditation and water are wedded forever.

This passage comes from Herman Melville’s novel *Moby-Dick* (1851), in a chapter that reflects on the bodily habits of contemplative people. Melville humorously proposes that even the most distracted, inward-looking man, if set walking, will unconsciously drift toward water. The observation is part of the book’s larger pattern of mixing narrative with essayistic digressions—philosophical, psychological, and natural-historical—often using the sea as both setting and symbol. In the mid-19th century, such reflective asides also echo contemporary interests in physiognomy, instinct, and the idea that environment shapes thought, while reinforcing the novel’s maritime imagination.

Melville suggests an almost magnetic relationship between human contemplation and water. On one level, it’s a comic “experiment”: the absent-minded walker will, without intending it, find himself drawn to rivers, docks, or shorelines. On another, it proposes water as a natural mirror for thought—fluid, deep, and changeable—so that meditative minds seek it out as their proper element. In *Moby-Dick*, this idea supports the book’s broader symbolism: the sea is not merely a place where events happen but a medium for metaphysical inquiry. “Meditation and water” being “wedded” implies a permanent, instinctive bond between inner life and the oceanic unknown.