I first became acquainted with him on board a whale vessel:
finding that he was unemployed in this city, I easily engaged him to
assist in my enterprise. The master is a person of an excellent disposition, and is remarkable in
the ship for his gentleness, and the mildness of his discipline. He is,
indeed, of so amiable a nature, that he will not hunt (a favourite, and
almost the only amusement here), because he cannot endure to spill
blood. He is, moreover, heroically generous. Some years ago he loved a
young Russian lady, of moderate fortune; and having amassed a
considerable sum in prize-money, the father of the girl consented to the
match. He saw his mistress once before the destined ceremony; but she
was bathed in tears, and, throwing herself at his feet, entreated him to
spare her, confessing at the same time that she loved another, but that
he was poor, and that her father would never consent to the union. My
generous friend reassured the suppliant, and on being informed of the
name of her lover instantly abandoned his pursuit. He had already bought
a farm with his money, on which he had designed to pass the remainder of
his life; but he bestowed the whole on his rival, together with the
remains of his prize-money to purchase stock, and then himself solicited
the young woman’s father to consent to her marriage with her lover. But
the old man decidedly refused, thinking himself bound in honour to my
friend; who, when he found the father inexorable, quitted his country,
nor returned until he heard that his former mistress was married
according to her inclinations. “What a noble fellow!” you will exclaim. He is so; but then he has passed all his life on board a vessel, and has
scarcely an idea beyond the rope and the shroud. But do not suppose that, because I complain a little, or because I can
conceive a consolation for my toils which I may never know, that I am
wavering in my resolutions. Those are as fixed as fate; and my voyage is
only now delayed until the weather shall permit my embarkation. The
winter has been dreadfully severe; but the spring promises well, and it
is considered as a remarkably early season; so that, perhaps, I may sail
sooner than I expected. I shall do nothing rashly; you know me
sufficiently to confide in my prudence and considerateness whenever the
safety of others is committed to my care. I cannot describe to you my sensations on the near prospect of my
undertaking. It is impossible to communicate to you a conception of the
trembling sensation, half pleasurable and half fearful, with which I am
preparing to depart. I am going to unexplored regions, to “the land of
mist and snow;” but I shall kill no albatross, therefore do not be
alarmed for my safety. Shall I meet you again, after having traversed immense seas, and
returned by the most southern cape of Africa or America? I dare not
expect such success, yet I cannot bear to look on the reverse of the
picture. Continue to write to me by every opportunity: I may receive
your letters (though the chance is very doubtful) on some occasions when
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. LETTER III. _To Mrs._ SAVILLE, _England_. July 7th, 17—. MY DEAR SISTER,

I write a few lines in haste, to say that I am safe, and well advanced
on my voyage. This letter will reach England by a merchant-man now on
its homeward voyage from Archangel; more fortunate than I, who may not
see my native land, perhaps, for many years. I am, however, in good
spirits: my men are bold, and apparently firm of purpose; nor do the
floating sheets of ice that continually pass us, indicating the dangers
of the region towards which we are advancing, appear to dismay them. We
have already reached a very high latitude; but it is the height of
summer, and although not so warm as in England, the southern gales,
which blow us speedily towards those shores which I so ardently desire
to attain, breathe a degree of renovating warmth which I had not
expected. No incidents have hitherto befallen us, that would make a figure in a
letter. One or two stiff gales, and the breaking of a mast, are
accidents which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record; and
I shall be well content, if nothing worse happen to us during our
voyage. Adieu, my dear Margaret. Be assured, that for my own sake, as well as
your’s, I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, persevering,
and prudent. Remember me to all my English friends. Most affectionately yours,

R. W.




LETTER IV. _To Mrs._ SAVILLE, _England_. August 5th, 17—. So strange an accident has happened to us, that I cannot forbear
recording it, although it is very probable that you will see me before
these papers can come into your possession. Last Monday (July 31st), we were nearly surrounded by ice, which closed
in the ship on all sides, scarcely leaving her the sea room in which she
floated. Our situation was somewhat dangerous, especially as we were
compassed round by a very thick fog. We accordingly lay to, hoping that
some change would take place in the atmosphere and weather. About two o’clock the mist cleared away, and we beheld, stretched out in
every direction, vast and irregular plains of ice, which seemed to have
no end. Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind began to grow
watchful with anxious thoughts, when a strange sight suddenly attracted
our attention, and diverted our solicitude from our own situation. We
perceived a low carriage, fixed on a sledge and drawn by dogs, pass on
towards the north, at the distance of half a mile: a being which had the
shape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, sat in the sledge,
and guided the dogs. We watched the rapid progress of the traveller
with our telescopes, until he was lost among the distant inequalities of
the ice. This appearance excited our unqualified wonder. We were, as we believed,
many hundred miles from any land; but this apparition seemed to denote
that it was not, in reality, so distant as we had supposed. Shut in,
however, by ice, it was impossible to follow his track, which we had
observed with the greatest attention. About two hours after this occurrence, we heard the ground sea; and
before night the ice broke, and freed our ship. We, however, lay to
until the morning, fearing to encounter in the dark those large loose
masses which float about after the breaking up of the ice. I profited of
this time to rest for a few hours. In the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I went upon deck, and
found all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, apparently talking
to some one in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge, like that we had seen
before, which had drifted towards us in the night, on a large fragment
of ice. Only one dog remained alive; but there was a human being within
it, whom the sailors were persuading to enter the vessel.