To Mrs. Saville, England.
St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17—.
You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement ofan enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrivedhere yesterday, and my first task is to assure my dear sister of my welfare andincreasing confidence in the success of my undertaking.
I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh,I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves andfills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which hastravelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretasteof those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams becomemore fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seatof frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as theregion of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is for ever visible, itsbroad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendour.There—for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in precedingnavigators—there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, wemay be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every regionhitherto discovered on the habi