when my captain offered me the second dignity in the
vessel and entreated me to remain with the greatest
earnestness, so valuable did he consider my services.
And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish
some great purpose? My life might have been
passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to
every enticement that wealth placed in my path.
Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the
affirmative! My courage and my resolution is
firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often
depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and
difficult voyage, the emergencies of which will demand
all my fortitude: I am required not only to
raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain
my own, when theirs are failing.
This is the most favourable period for travelling
in Russia. They fly quickly over the snow in
their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in my
opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English
stagecoach. The cold is not excessive, if you
are wrapped in furs—a dress which I have
already adopted, for there is a great difference between
walking the deck and remaining seated motionless for
hours, when no exercise prevents the blood from actually
freezing in your veins. I have no ambition to
lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburgh
and Archangel. I shall depart for the latter
town in a fortnight or three weeks; and my intention
is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done
by paying the insurance for the owner, and to engage
as many sailors as I think necessary among those who
are accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not
intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall
I return? Ah, dear sister, how can I answer this
question? If I succeed, many, many months, perhaps
years, will pass before you and I may meet.
If I fail, you will see me again soon, or never.
Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven
shower down blessings on you, and save me, that I
may again and again testify my gratitude for all your
love and kindness.
Your affectionate brother,
R. Walton
Letter 2
To Mrs. Saville, England
Archangel, 28th March, 17—
How slowly the time passes here, encompassed as I
am by frost and snow! Yet a second step is taken
towards my enterprise. I have hired a vessel
and am occupied in collecting my sailors; those whom
I have already engaged appear to be men on whom I
can depend and are certainly possessed of dauntless
courage.
But I have one want which I have never yet been able
to satisfy, and the absence of the object of which
I now feel as a most severe evil, I have no friend,
Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm
of success, there will be none to participate my joy;
if I am assailed by disappointment, no one will endeavour
to sustain me in dejection. I shall commit my
thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor
