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 merchantman 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 springing of a leak are
accidents which experienced navigators scarcely remember to record,
and I shall be well content if nothing worse happen to us during
Adieu, my dear Margaret. Be assured that for my own sake, as well
as yours, I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool,
persevering, and prudent.
But success SHALL crown my endeavours. Wherefore not? Thus far I
have gone, tracing a secure way over the pathless seas, the very
stars themselves being witnesses and testimonies of my triumph.
Why not still proceed over the untamed yet obedient element? What
can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man?
My swelling heart involuntarily pours itself out thus. But must
finish. Heaven bless my beloved sister!
Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus