Frankenstein | Page 7

not expect such success, yet I cannot bear to look on the reverse of the
picture. Continue for the present to write to me by every opportunity: I may receive your
letters 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 3

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 our
voyage.
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!
R.W.

Letter 4
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 someone 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. He was not, as the other traveller
seemed to be, a savage