Accuracy, however, is not the secret of the success of this book.  Its flowing style, the use of short Anglo-Saxon words,[3] its picturesqueness, the power of description, the philosophic arrangement all contribute to it, but chiefly, I believe, the enthusiasm of the young Dana, his sympathy for his fellows and interest in new scenes and strange peoples, and with it all, the real poetry that runs through the whole.  As to its poetry, I will quote from Mrs. Bancroft’s ``Letters from England,’’ giving the opinion of the poet Samuel Rogers: 

``London, June 20, 1847.

``The 19th, Sat. we breakfasted with Lady Byron and my friend Miss Murray, at Mr. Rogers’. . . .  After breakfast he had been repeating some lines of poetry which he thought fine, when he suddenly exclaimed, `But there is a bit of American prose, which, I think, has more poetry in it, than almost any modern verse.’  He then repeated, I should think, more than a page from Dana’s `Two Years Before the Mast’ describing the falling overboard of one of the crew, and the effect it produced, not only at the moment, but for some time afterward.  I wondered at his memory, which enabled him to recite so beautifully a long prose passage, so much more difficult than verse.  Several of those present, with whom the book was a favorite, were so glad to hear from me that it was as true as interesting, for they had regarded it as partly a work of imagination.’’

In writing the book Mr. Dana had a motive which inspired him to put into it his very best.  The night after the flogging of his two fellow-sailors off San Pedro, California, Mr. Dana, lying in his berth, ``vowed that, if God should ever give me the means, I would do something to redress the grievances and relieve the sufferings of that class of beings with whom my lot has been so long cast.’’ This vow he carried out in no visionary scheme of mutiny or foolish ``paying back’’ to the captain, but by awakening a ``strong sympathy’’ for the sailors ``by a voice from the forecastle,’’ in his ``Two Years Before the Mast.’’

While at sea he made entries almost daily in a pocket notebook and at leisure hours wrote these out fully.  This full account of his voyage was lost with his trunk containing sailors’ clothes and all souvenirs and presents for family and friends by the carelessness of a relative who took charge of his things at the wharf when he landed in Boston in 1836.  Later, while in the Law School, Mr. Dana re-wrote this account from the notebook, which, fortunately, he had not entrusted to the lost trunk.  This account he read to his father and Washington Allston, artist and poet, his uncle by marriage.  Both advised its publication and the manuscript was sent to William Cullen Bryant, who had then moved to New York.  Mr. Bryant, after looking it over, took it to a prominent publisher of his city, as the publishers at that time most able to give the book a large sale.  They offered to buy the book outright but refused the author any share