LETTER II.
_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 alreadyengaged, appear to be men on whom I can depend, and are certainlypossessed of dauntless courage.
But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy; and theabsence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I haveno friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success,there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed bydisappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. Ishall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor mediumfor the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man whocould sympathise with me; whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deemme romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. Ihave no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated aswell as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve oramend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poorbrother! I am too ardent in execution, and too impatient ofdifficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I amself-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on acommon, and read nothing but our uncle Thomas's books of voyages. Atthat age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our owncountry; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to deriveits most important benefits from such a conviction, that I perceived thenecessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of mynative country. Now I am twenty-eight, and am in reality more illiteratethan many schoolboys of fifteen. It is true that I have thought more,and that my day dreams are more extended and magnificent; but they want(as the painters call it) _keeping_; and I greatly need a friend whowould have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affectionenough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind.
Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend onthe wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen.Yet some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even inthese rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderfulcourage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory: or rather, toword my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in hisprofession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national andprofessional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of thenoblest endowments of humanity. I first became acquainted with him onboard a whale vessel: finding that he was unemployed in this city, Ieasily engaged him to assist in my enterprise.
The master is a person of an excellent disposition, and is remarkable inthe ship for his gentleness and the mildness of his discipline. Thiscircumstance, added to his well known integrity and dauntless courage,made me very desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my bestyears spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined thegroundwork of my character, that I cannot overcome an intense distasteto the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed itto be necessary; and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for hiskindliness of heart, and the respect and obedience paid to him by hiscrew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate in being able to secure hisservices. I heard of him first in rather a romantic manner, from a ladywho owes to him the happiness of her life. This, briefly, is his story.Some years ago, he loved a young Russian lady, of moderate fortune; andhaving amassed a considerable sum in prize-money, the father of the girlconsented to the match. He saw his mistress once before the destinedceremony; but she was bathed in tears, and, throwing herself at hisfeet, entreated him to spare her, confessing at the same time that sheloved another, but that he was poor, and that her father would neverconsent to the union. My generous friend reassured the suppliant, and onbeing informed of the name of her lover, instantly abandoned hispursuit. He had already bought a farm with his money, on which he haddesigned to pass the remainder of his life; but he bestowed the whole onhis rival, together with the remains of his prize-money to purchasestock, and then himself solicited the young woman's father to consent toher marriage with her lover. But the old man decidedly refused, thinkinghimself bound in honour to my friend; who, when he found the fatherinexorable, quitted his country, nor returned until he heard that hisformer mistress was married according to her inclinations. "What a noblefellow!" you will exclaim. He is so; but then he is wholly uneducated:he is as silent as a Turk, and a kind of ignorant carelessness attendshim, which, while it renders his conduct the more astonishing, detractsfrom the interest and sympathy which otherwise he would command.
Yet do not suppose, because I complain a little, or because I canconceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I amwavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate; and my voyage isonly now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. Thewinter has been dreadfully severe; but the spring promises well, and itis considered as a remarkably early season; so that perhaps I may sailsooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly: you know mesufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness, whenever thesafety of others is committed to my care.
I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of myundertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of thetrembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I ampreparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to "the land ofmist and snow"; but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not bealarmed for my safety, or if I should come back to you as worn and wofulas the "Ancient Mariner"? You will smile at my allusion; but I willdisclose a secret. I have often attributed my attachment to, mypassionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of ocean, to thatproduction of the most imaginative of modern poets. There is somethingat work in my soul, which I do not understand. I am practicallyindustrious--pains-taking;--a workman to execute with perseverance andlabour:--but besides this, there is a love for the marvellous, a beliefin the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me outof the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisitedregions I am about to explore.
But to return to dearer considerations. Shall I meet you again, afterhaving traversed immense seas, and returned by the most southern cape ofAfrica or America? I dare not expect such success, yet I cannot bear tolook on the reverse of the picture. Continue for the present to write tome by every opportunity: I may receive your letters on some occasionswhen I need them most to support my spirits. I love you very tenderly.Remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.
Your affectionate brother,
ROBERT WALTON.