diff options
Diffstat (limited to '42324-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 42324-8.txt | 8030 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 8030 deletions
diff --git a/42324-8.txt b/42324-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 60e521f..0000000 --- a/42324-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8030 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Frankenstein, by Mary W. Shelley - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Frankenstein - or, The Modern Prometheus - -Author: Mary W. Shelley - -Release Date: March 13, 2013 [EBook #42324] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANKENSTEIN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - FRANKENSTEIN: - - OR, - - THE MODERN PROMETHEUS. - - BY MARY W. SHELLEY. - - AUTHOR OF THE LAST MAN, PERKIN WARBECK, &c. &c. - - [Transcriber's Note: This text was produced from a photo-reprint of - the 1831 edition.] - - - REVISED, CORRECTED, - AND ILLUSTRATED WITH A NEW INTRODUCTION, - BY THE AUTHOR. - - LONDON: - HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY, - NEW BURLINGTON STREET: - BELL AND BRADFUTE, EDINBURGH; - AND CUMMING, DUBLIN. - 1831. - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -The Publishers of the Standard Novels, in selecting "Frankenstein" for -one of their series, expressed a wish that I should furnish them with -some account of the origin of the story. I am the more willing to -comply, because I shall thus give a general answer to the question, so -very frequently asked me--"How I, when a young girl, came to think of, -and to dilate upon, so very hideous an idea?" It is true that I am very -averse to bringing myself forward in print; but as my account will only -appear as an appendage to a former production, and as it will be -confined to such topics as have connection with my authorship alone, I -can scarcely accuse myself of a personal intrusion. - -It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of distinguished -literary celebrity, I should very early in life have thought of writing. -As a child I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during the hours given -me for recreation, was to "write stories." Still I had a dearer pleasure -than this, which was the formation of castles in the air--the indulging -in waking dreams--the following up trains of thought, which had for -their subject the formation of a succession of imaginary incidents. My -dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings. In -the latter I was a close imitator--rather doing as others had done, -than putting down the suggestions of my own mind. What I wrote was -intended at least for one other eye--my childhood's companion and -friend; but my dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; -they were my refuge when annoyed--my dearest pleasure when free. - -I lived principally in the country as a girl, and passed a considerable -time in Scotland. I made occasional visits to the more picturesque -parts; but my habitual residence was on the blank and dreary northern -shores of the Tay, near Dundee. Blank and dreary on retrospection I call -them; they were not so to me then. They were the eyry of freedom, and -the pleasant region where unheeded I could commune with the creatures of -my fancy. I wrote then--but in a most common-place style. It was beneath -the trees of the grounds belonging to our house, or on the bleak sides -of the woodless mountains near, that my true compositions, the airy -flights of my imagination, were born and fostered. I did not make myself -the heroine of my tales. Life appeared to me too common-place an affair -as regarded myself. I could not figure to myself that romantic woes or -wonderful events would ever be my lot; but I was not confined to my own -identity, and I could people the hours with creations far more -interesting to me at that age, than my own sensations. - -After this my life became busier, and reality stood in place of fiction. -My husband, however, was from the first, very anxious that I should -prove myself worthy of my parentage, and enrol myself on the page of -fame. He was for ever inciting me to obtain literary reputation, which -even on my own part I cared for then, though since I have become -infinitely indifferent to it. At this time he desired that I should -write, not so much with the idea that I could produce any thing worthy -of notice, but that he might himself judge how far I possessed the -promise of better things hereafter. Still I did nothing. Travelling, and -the cares of a family, occupied my time; and study, in the way of -reading, or improving my ideas in communication with his far more -cultivated mind, was all of literary employment that engaged my -attention. - -In the summer of 1816, we visited Switzerland, and became the neighbours -of Lord Byron. At first we spent our pleasant hours on the lake, or -wandering on its shores; and Lord Byron, who was writing the third canto -of Childe Harold, was the only one among us who put his thoughts upon -paper. These, as he brought them successively to us, clothed in all the -light and harmony of poetry, seemed to stamp as divine the glories of -heaven and earth, whose influences we partook with him. - -But it proved a wet, ungenial summer, and incessant rain often confined -us for days to the house. Some volumes of ghost stories, translated from -the German into French, fell into our hands. There was the History of -the Inconstant Lover, who, when he thought to clasp the bride to whom he -had pledged his vows, found himself in the arms of the pale ghost of her -whom he had deserted. There was the tale of the sinful founder of his -race, whose miserable doom it was to bestow the kiss of death on all the -younger sons of his fated house, just when they reached the age of -promise. His gigantic, shadowy form, clothed like the ghost in Hamlet, -in complete armour, but with the beaver up, was seen at midnight, by -the moon's fitful beams, to advance slowly along the gloomy avenue. The -shape was lost beneath the shadow of the castle walls; but soon a gate -swung back, a step was heard, the door of the chamber opened, and he -advanced to the couch of the blooming youths, cradled in healthy sleep. -Eternal sorrow sat upon his face as he bent down and kissed the forehead -of the boys, who from that hour withered like flowers snapt upon the -stalk. I have not seen these stories since then; but their incidents are -as fresh in my mind as if I had read them yesterday. - -"We will each write a ghost story," said Lord Byron; and his proposition -was acceded to. There were four of us. The noble author began a tale, a -fragment of which he printed at the end of his poem of Mazeppa. Shelley, -more apt to embody ideas and sentiments in the radiance of brilliant -imagery, and in the music of the most melodious verse that adorns our -language, than to invent the machinery of a story, commenced one founded -on the experiences of his early life. Poor Polidori had some terrible -idea about a skull-headed lady, who was so punished for peeping through -a key-hole--what to see I forget--something very shocking and wrong of -course; but when she was reduced to a worse condition than the renowned -Tom of Coventry, he did not know what to do with her, and was obliged to -despatch her to the tomb of the Capulets, the only place for which she -was fitted. The illustrious poets also, annoyed by the platitude of -prose, speedily relinquished their uncongenial task. - -I busied myself _to think of a story_,--a story to rival those which had -excited us to this task. One which would speak to the mysterious fears -of our nature, and awaken thrilling horror--one to make the reader dread -to look round, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the -heart. If I did not accomplish these things, my ghost story would be -unworthy of its name. I thought and pondered--vainly. I felt that blank -incapability of invention which is the greatest misery of authorship, -when dull Nothing replies to our anxious invocations. _Have you thought -of a story?_ I was asked each morning, and each morning I was forced to -reply with a mortifying negative. - -Every thing must have a beginning, to speak in Sanchean phrase; and that -beginning must be linked to something that went before. The Hindoos give -the world an elephant to support it, but they make the elephant stand -upon a tortoise. Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist -in creating out of void, but out of chaos; the materials must, in the -first place, be afforded: it can give form to dark, shapeless -substances, but cannot bring into being the substance itself. In all -matters of discovery and invention, even of those that appertain to the -imagination, we are continually reminded of the story of Columbus and -his egg. Invention consists in the capacity of seizing on the -capabilities of a subject, and in the power of moulding and fashioning -ideas suggested to it. - -Many and long were the conversations between Lord Byron and Shelley, to -which I was a devout but nearly silent listener. During one of these, -various philosophical doctrines were discussed, and among others the -nature of the principle of life, and whether there was any probability -of its ever being discovered and communicated. They talked of the -experiments of Dr. Darwin, (I speak not of what the Doctor really did, -or said that he did, but, as more to my purpose, of what was then spoken -of as having been done by him,) who preserved a piece of vermicelli in a -glass case, till by some extraordinary means it began to move with -voluntary motion. Not thus, after all, would life be given. Perhaps a -corpse would be re-animated; galvanism had given token of such things: -perhaps the component parts of a creature might be manufactured, brought -together, and endued with vital warmth. - -Night waned upon this talk, and even the witching hour had gone by, -before we retired to rest. When I placed my head on my pillow, I did not -sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed -and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with -a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw--with shut -eyes, but acute mental vision,--I saw the pale student of unhallowed -arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous -phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some -powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital -motion. Frightful must it be; for supremely frightful would be the -effect of any human endeavour to mock the stupendous mechanism of the -Creator of the world. His success would terrify the artist; he would -rush away from his odious handywork, horror-stricken. He would hope -that, left to itself, the slight spark of life which he had communicated -would fade; that this thing, which had received such imperfect -animation, would subside into dead matter; and he might sleep in the -belief that the silence of the grave would quench for ever the transient -existence of the hideous corpse which he had looked upon as the cradle -of life. He sleeps; but he is awakened; he opens his eyes; behold the -horrid thing stands at his bedside, opening his curtains, and looking on -him with yellow, watery, but speculative eyes. - -I opened mine in terror. The idea so possessed my mind, that a thrill of -fear ran through me, and I wished to exchange the ghastly image of my -fancy for the realities around. I see them still; the very room, the -dark _parquet_, the closed shutters, with the moonlight struggling -through, and the sense I had that the glassy lake and white high Alps -were beyond. I could not so easily get rid of my hideous phantom; still -it haunted me. I must try to think of something else. I recurred to my -ghost story,--my tiresome unlucky ghost story! O! if I could only -contrive one which would frighten my reader as I myself had been -frightened that night! - -Swift as light and as cheering was the idea that broke in upon me. "I -have found it! What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only -describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow." On the -morrow I announced that I had _thought of a story_. I began that day -with the words, _It was on a dreary night of November_, making only a -transcript of the grim terrors of my waking dream. - -At first I thought but of a few pages--of a short tale; but Shelley -urged me to develope the idea at greater length. I certainly did not owe -the suggestion of one incident, nor scarcely of one train of feeling, to -my husband, and yet but for his incitement, it would never have taken -the form in which it was presented to the world. From this declaration I -must except the preface. As far as I can recollect, it was entirely -written by him. - -And now, once again, I bid my hideous progeny go forth and prosper. I -have an affection for it, for it was the offspring of happy days, when -death and grief were but words, which found no true echo in my heart. -Its several pages speak of many a walk, many a drive, and many a -conversation, when I was not alone; and my companion was one who, in -this world, I shall never see more. But this is for myself; my readers -have nothing to do with these associations. - -I will add but one word as to the alterations I have made. They are -principally those of style. I have changed no portion of the story, nor -introduced any new ideas or circumstances. I have mended the language -where it was so bald as to interfere with the interest of the narrative; -and these changes occur almost exclusively in the beginning of the first -volume. Throughout they are entirely confined to such parts as are mere -adjuncts to the story, leaving the core and substance of it untouched. - -M. W. S. - -_London, October 15, 1831._ - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The event on which this fiction is founded, has been supposed, by Dr. -Darwin, and some of the physiological writers of Germany, as not of -impossible occurrence. I shall not be supposed as according the remotest -degree of serious faith to such an imagination; yet, in assuming it as -the basis of a work of fancy, I have not considered myself as merely -weaving a series of supernatural terrors. The event on which the -interest of the story depends is exempt from the disadvantages of a mere -tale of spectres or enchantment. It was recommended by the novelty of -the situations which it developes; and, however impossible as a physical -fact, affords a point of view to the imagination for the delineating of -human passions more comprehensive and commanding than any which the -ordinary relations of existing events can yield. - -I have thus endeavoured to preserve the truth of the elementary -principles of human nature, while I have not scrupled to innovate upon -their combinations. The Iliad, the tragic poetry of Greece,--Shakspeare, -in the Tempest, and Midsummer Night's Dream,--and most especially -Milton, in Paradise Lost, conform to this rule; and the most humble -novelist, who seeks to confer or receive amusement from his labours, -may, without presumption, apply to prose fiction a licence, or rather a -rule, from the adoption of which so many exquisite combinations of human -feeling have resulted in the highest specimens of poetry. - -The circumstance on which my story rests was suggested in casual -conversation. It was commenced partly as a source of amusement, and -partly as an expedient for exercising any untried resources of mind. -Other motives were mingled with these, as the work proceeded. I am by -no means indifferent to the manner in which whatever moral tendencies -exist in the sentiments or characters it contains shall affect the -reader; yet my chief concern in this respect has been limited to the -avoiding the enervating effects of the novels of the present day, and to -the exhibition of the amiableness of domestic affection, and the -excellence of universal virtue. The opinions which naturally spring from -the character and situation of the hero are by no means to be conceived -as existing always in my own conviction; nor is any inference justly to -be drawn from the following pages as prejudicing any philosophical -doctrine of whatever kind. - -It is a subject also of additional interest to the author, that this -story was begun in the majestic region where the scene is principally -laid, and in society which cannot cease to be regretted. I passed the -summer of 1816 in the environs of Geneva. The season was cold and rainy, -and in the evenings we crowded around a blazing wood fire, and -occasionally amused ourselves with some German stories of ghosts, which -happened to fall into our hands. These tales excited in us a playful -desire of imitation. Two other friends (a tale from the pen of one of -whom would be far more acceptable to the public than any thing I can -ever hope to produce) and myself agreed to write each a story, founded -on some supernatural occurrence. - -The weather, however, suddenly became serene; and my two friends left me -on a journey among the Alps, and lost, in the magnificent scenes which -they present, all memory of their ghostly visions. The following tale is -the only one which has been completed. - -Marlow, September, 1817. - - - - -FRANKENSTEIN; - -OR, - -THE MODERN PROMETHEUS. - - - - -LETTER I. - - -_To Mrs. Saville, England._ - -St. Petersburgh, Dec. 11th, 17--. - -You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the -commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil -forebodings. I arrived here yesterday; and my first task is to assure my -dear sister of my welfare, and increasing 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, and fills me with delight. Do you understand this -feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which -I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by -this wind of promise, my day dreams become more fervent and vivid. I try -in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and -desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of -beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is for ever visible; its -broad disk just skirting the horizon, and diffusing a perpetual -splendour. There--for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust -in preceding navigators--there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing -over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in -beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its -productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of -the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. -What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there -discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle; and may regulate -a thousand celestial observations, that require only this voyage to -render their seeming eccentricities consistent for ever. I shall satiate -my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before -visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. -These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of -danger or death, and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with -the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday -mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But, supposing -all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable -benefit which I shall confer on all mankind to the last generation, by -discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which -at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret -of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an -undertaking such as mine. - -These reflections have dispelled the agitation with which I began my -letter, and I feel my heart glow with an enthusiasm which elevates me to -heaven; for nothing contributes so much to tranquillise the mind as a -steady purpose,--a point on which the soul may fix its intellectual eye. -This expedition has been the favourite dream of my early years. I have -read with ardour the accounts of the various voyages which have been -made in the prospect of arriving at the North Pacific Ocean through the -seas which surround the pole. You may remember, that a history of all -the voyages made for purposes of discovery composed the whole of our -good uncle Thomas's library. My education was neglected, yet I was -passionately fond of reading. These volumes were my study day and night, -and my familiarity with them increased that regret which I had felt, as -a child, on learning that my father's dying injunction had forbidden my -uncle to allow me to embark in a seafaring life. - -These visions faded when I perused, for the first time, those poets -whose effusions entranced my soul, and lifted it to heaven. I also -became a poet, and for one year lived in a Paradise of my own creation; -I imagined that I also might obtain a niche in the temple where the -names of Homer and Shakspeare are consecrated. You are well acquainted -with my failure, and how heavily I bore the disappointment. But just at -that time I inherited the fortune of my cousin, and my thoughts were -turned into the channel of their earlier bent. - -Six years have passed since I resolved on my present undertaking. I can, -even now, remember the hour from which I dedicated myself to this great -enterprise. I commenced by inuring my body to hardship. I accompanied -the whale-fishers on several expeditions to the North Sea; I voluntarily -endured cold, famine, thirst, and want of sleep; I often worked harder -than the common sailors during the day, and devoted my nights to the -study of mathematics, the theory of medicine, and those branches of -physical science from which a naval adventurer might derive the greatest -practical advantage. Twice I actually hired myself as an under-mate in a -Greenland whaler, and acquitted myself to admiration. I must own I felt -a little proud, when my captain offered me the second dignity in the -vessel, and entreated me to remain with the greatest earnestness; so -valuable did he consider my services. - -And now, dear Margaret, do I not deserve to accomplish some great -purpose? My life might have been passed in ease and luxury; but I -preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, -that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage -and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are -often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, -the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not -only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, -when theirs are failing. - -This is the most favourable period for travelling in Russia. They fly -quickly over the snow in their sledges; the motion is pleasant, and, in -my opinion, far more agreeable than that of an English stage-coach. The -cold is not excessive, if you are wrapped in furs,--a dress which I -have already adopted; for there is a great difference between walking -the deck and remaining seated motionless for hours, when no exercise -prevents the blood from actually freezing in your veins. I have no -ambition to lose my life on the post-road between St. Petersburgh and -Archangel. - -I shall depart for the latter town in a fortnight or three weeks; and my -intention is to hire a ship there, which can easily be done by paying -the insurance for the owner, and to engage as many sailors as I think -necessary among those who are accustomed to the whale-fishing. I do not -intend to sail until the month of June; and when shall I return? Ah, -dear sister, how can I answer this question? If I succeed, many, many -months, perhaps years, will pass before you and I may meet. If I fail, -you will see me again soon, or never. - -Farewell, my dear, excellent Margaret. Heaven shower down blessings on -you, and save me, that I may again and again testify my gratitude for -all your love and kindness. - -Your affectionate brother, - -R. WALTON. - - - - -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 already -engaged, appear to be men on whom I can depend, and are certainly -possessed of dauntless courage. - -But I have one want which I have never yet been able to satisfy; and the -absence of the object of which I now feel as a most severe evil. I have -no friend, Margaret: when I am glowing with the enthusiasm of success, -there will be none to participate my joy; if I am assailed by -disappointment, no one will endeavour to sustain me in dejection. I -shall commit my thoughts to paper, it is true; but that is a poor medium -for the communication of feeling. I desire the company of a man who -could sympathise with me; whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem -me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend. I -have no one near me, gentle yet courageous, possessed of a cultivated as -well as of a capacious mind, whose tastes are like my own, to approve or -amend my plans. How would such a friend repair the faults of your poor -brother! I am too ardent in execution, and too impatient of -difficulties. But it is a still greater evil to me that I am -self-educated: for the first fourteen years of my life I ran wild on a -common, and read nothing but our uncle Thomas's books of voyages. At -that age I became acquainted with the celebrated poets of our own -country; but it was only when it had ceased to be in my power to derive -its most important benefits from such a conviction, that I perceived the -necessity of becoming acquainted with more languages than that of my -native country. Now I am twenty-eight, and am in reality more illiterate -than 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 who -would have sense enough not to despise me as romantic, and affection -enough for me to endeavour to regulate my mind. - -Well, these are useless complaints; I shall certainly find no friend on -the wide ocean, nor even here in Archangel, among merchants and seamen. -Yet some feelings, unallied to the dross of human nature, beat even in -these rugged bosoms. My lieutenant, for instance, is a man of wonderful -courage and enterprise; he is madly desirous of glory: or rather, to -word my phrase more characteristically, of advancement in his -profession. He is an Englishman, and in the midst of national and -professional prejudices, unsoftened by cultivation, retains some of the -noblest endowments of humanity. 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. This -circumstance, added to his well known integrity and dauntless courage, -made me very desirous to engage him. A youth passed in solitude, my best -years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the -groundwork of my character, that I cannot overcome an intense distaste -to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed it -to be necessary; and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for his -kindliness of heart, and the respect and obedience paid to him by his -crew, I felt myself peculiarly fortunate in being able to secure his -services. I heard of him first in rather a romantic manner, from a lady -who 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; 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 is wholly uneducated: -he is as silent as a Turk, and a kind of ignorant carelessness attends -him, which, while it renders his conduct the more astonishing, detracts -from the interest and sympathy which otherwise he would command. - -Yet do not suppose, 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, or if I should come back to you as worn and woful -as the "Ancient Mariner"? You will smile at my allusion; but I will -disclose a secret. I have often attributed my attachment to, my -passionate enthusiasm for, the dangerous mysteries of ocean, to that -production of the most imaginative of modern poets. There is something -at work in my soul, which I do not understand. I am practically -industrious--pains-taking;--a workman to execute with perseverance and -labour:--but besides this, there is a love for the marvellous, a belief -in the marvellous, intertwined in all my projects, which hurries me out -of the common pathways of men, even to the wild sea and unvisited -regions I am about to explore. - -But to return to dearer considerations. 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 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 III. - - -_To Mrs. Saville, England._ - -MY DEAR SISTER, July 7th, 17--. - -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 I must -finish. Heaven bless my beloved sister! - -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. He was not, as -the other traveller seemed to be, a savage inhabitant of some -undiscovered island, but an European. When I appeared on deck, the -master said, "Here is our captain, and he will not allow you to perish -on the open sea." - -On perceiving me, the stranger addressed me in English, although with a -foreign accent. "Before I come on board your vessel," said he, "will -you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound?" - -You may conceive my astonishment on hearing such a question addressed to -me from a man on the brink of destruction, and to whom I should have -supposed that my vessel would have been a resource which he would not -have exchanged for the most precious wealth the earth can afford. I -replied, however, that we were on a voyage of discovery towards the -northern pole. - -Upon hearing this he appeared satisfied, and consented to come on board. -Good God! Margaret, if you had seen the man who thus capitulated for his -safety, your surprise would have been boundless. His limbs were nearly -frozen, and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and suffering. I -never saw a man in so wretched a condition. We attempted to carry him -into the cabin; but as soon as he had quitted the fresh air, he fainted. -We accordingly brought him back to the deck, and restored him to -animation by rubbing him with brandy, and forcing him to swallow a small -quantity. As soon as he showed signs of life we wrapped him up in -blankets, and placed him near the chimney of the kitchen stove. By slow -degrees he recovered, and ate a little soup, which restored him -wonderfully. - -Two days passed in this manner before he was able to speak; and I often -feared that his sufferings had deprived him of understanding. When he -had in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin, and -attended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw a more -interesting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of wildness, -and even madness; but there are moments when, if any one performs an act -of kindness towards him, or does him any the most trifling service, his -whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence -and sweetness that I never saw equalled. But he is generally melancholy -and despairing; and sometimes he gnashes his teeth, as if impatient of -the weight of woes that oppresses him. - -When my guest was a little recovered, I had great trouble to keep off -the men, who wished to ask him a thousand questions; but I would not -allow him to be tormented by their idle curiosity, in a state of body -and mind whose restoration evidently depended upon entire repose. Once, -however, the lieutenant asked, Why he had come so far upon the ice in so -strange a vehicle? - -His countenance instantly assumed an aspect of the deepest gloom; and he -replied, "To seek one who fled from me." - -"And did the man whom you pursued travel in the same fashion?" - -"Yes." - -"Then I fancy we have seen him; for the day before we picked you up, we -saw some dogs drawing a sledge, with a man in it, across the ice." - -This aroused the stranger's attention; and he asked a multitude of -questions concerning the route which the dæmon, as he called him, had -pursued. Soon after, when he was alone with me, he said,--"I have, -doubtless, excited your curiosity, as well as that of these good people; -but you are too considerate to make enquiries." - -"Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman in me to -trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine." - -"And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you have -benevolently restored me to life." - -Soon after this he enquired if I thought that the breaking up of the ice -had destroyed the other sledge? I replied, that I could not answer with -any degree of certainty; for the ice had not broken until near midnight, -and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety before that -time; but of this I could not judge. - -From this time a new spirit of life animated the decaying frame of the -stranger. He manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck, to watch -for the sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to -remain in the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of -the atmosphere. I have promised that some one should watch for him, and -give him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight. - -Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the -present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health, but is very -silent, and appears uneasy when any one except myself enters his cabin. -Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle, that the sailors are all -interested in him, although they have had very little communication with -him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother; and his constant -and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must have been -a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck so -attractive and amiable. - -I said in one of my letters, my dear Margaret, that I should find no -friend on the wide ocean; yet I have found a man who, before his spirit -had been broken by misery, I should have been happy to have possessed as -the brother of my heart. - -I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, should -I have any fresh incidents to record. - - -August 13th, 17--. - -My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my -admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noble -a creature destroyed by misery, without feeling the most poignant grief? -He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated; and when he -speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet they -flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence. - -He is now much recovered from his illness, and is continually on the -deck, apparently watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, -although unhappy, he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery, but -that he interests himself deeply in the projects of others. He has -frequently conversed with me on mine, which I have communicated to him -without disguise. He entered attentively into all my arguments in favour -of my eventual success, and into every minute detail of the measures I -had taken to secure it. I was easily led by the sympathy which he -evinced, to use the language of my heart; to give utterance to the -burning ardour of my soul; and to say, with all the fervour that warmed -me, how gladly I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every -hope, to the furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death were -but a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I -sought; for the dominion I should acquire and transmit over the -elemental foes of our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my -listener's countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppress -his emotion; he placed his hands before his eyes; and my voice quivered -and failed me, as I beheld tears trickle fast from between his -fingers,--a groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused;--at length he -spoke, in broken accents:--"Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have -you drank also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me,--let me reveal my -tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!" - -Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but the -paroxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakened -powers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation were -necessary to restore his composure. - -Having conquered the violence of his feelings, he appeared to despise -himself for being the slave of passion; and quelling the dark tyranny of -despair, he led me again to converse concerning myself personally. He -asked me the history of my earlier years. The tale was quickly told: -but it awakened various trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of -finding a friend--of my thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a -fellow mind than had ever fallen to my lot; and expressed my conviction -that a man could boast of little happiness, who did not enjoy this -blessing. - -"I agree with you," replied the stranger; "we are unfashioned creatures, -but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves--such a -friend ought to be--do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and -faulty natures. I once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, -and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have -hope, and the world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I--I -have lost every thing, and cannot begin life anew." - -As he said this, his countenance became expressive of a calm settled -grief, that touched me to the heart. But he was silent, and presently -retired to his cabin. - -Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does -the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight -afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of -elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may -suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has -retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit, that has a -halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. - -Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine -wanderer? You would not, if you saw him. You have been tutored and -refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are, therefore, -somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit to -appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I -have endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses, that -elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I -believe it to be an intuitive discernment; a quick but never-failing -power of judgment; a penetration into the causes of things, unequalled -for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression, and a -voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music. - - -August 19. 17--. - -Yesterday the stranger said to me, "You may easily perceive, Captain -Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had -determined, at one time, that the memory of these evils should die with -me; but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for -knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the -gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine -has been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be useful -to you; yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing the same course, -exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me what I am, -I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale; one that may -direct you if you succeed in your undertaking, and console you in case -of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually deemed -marvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature, I might fear to -encounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule; but many things will -appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions, which would -provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers -of nature:--nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series -internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed." - -You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offered -communication; yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by -a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear the -promised narrative, partly from curiosity, and partly from a strong -desire to ameliorate his fate, if it were in my power. I expressed these -feelings in my answer. - -"I thank you," he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; my -fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall -repose in peace. I understand your feeling," continued he, perceiving -that I wished to interrupt him; "but you are mistaken, my friend, if -thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny: listen -to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined." - -He then told me, that he would commence his narrative the next day when -I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. I -have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my -duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has -related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make -notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest pleasure: -but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own lips, with what -interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future day! Even now, as I -commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in my ears; his lustrous -eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness; I see his thin -hand raised in animation, while the lineaments of his face are -irradiated by the soul within. Strange and harrowing must be his story; -frightful the storm which embraced the gallant vessel on its course, and -wrecked it--thus! - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -I am by birth a Genevese; and my family is one of the most distinguished -of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years counsellors and -syndics; and my father had filled several public situations with honour -and reputation. He was respected by all who knew him, for his integrity -and indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his younger -days perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country; a variety of -circumstances had prevented his marrying early, nor was it until the -decline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family. - -As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot -refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a -merchant, who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous -mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a -proud and unbending disposition, and could not bear to live in poverty -and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been -distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, -therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his daughter -to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in wretchedness. My -father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship, and was deeply grieved -by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. He bitterly deplored -the false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy of -the affection that united them. He lost no time in endeavouring to seek -him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world again -through his credit and assistance. - -Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself; and it was ten -months before my father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this -discovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a mean -street, near the Reuss. But when he entered, misery and despair alone -welcomed him. Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from the -wreck of his fortunes; but it was sufficient to provide him with -sustenance for some months, and in the mean time he hoped to procure -some respectable employment in a merchant's house. The interval was, -consequently, spent in inaction; his grief only became more deep and -rankling, when he had leisure for reflection; and at length it took so -fast hold of his mind, that at the end of three months he lay on a bed -of sickness, incapable of any exertion. - -His daughter attended him with the greatest tenderness; but she saw with -despair that their little fund was rapidly decreasing, and that there -was no other prospect of support. But Caroline Beaufort possessed a mind -of an uncommon mould; and her courage rose to support her in her -adversity. She procured plain work; she plaited straw; and by various -means contrived to earn a pittance scarcely sufficient to support life. - -Several months passed in this manner. Her father grew worse; her time -was more entirely occupied in attending him; her means of subsistence -decreased; and in the tenth month her father died in her arms, leaving -her an orphan and a beggar. This last blow overcame her; and she knelt -by Beaufort's coffin, weeping bitterly, when my father entered the -chamber. He came like a protecting spirit to the poor girl, who -committed herself to his care; and after the interment of his friend, he -conducted her to Geneva, and placed her under the protection of a -relation. Two years after this event Caroline became his wife. - -There was a considerable difference between the ages of my parents, but -this circumstance seemed to unite them only closer in bonds of devoted -affection. There was a sense of justice in my father's upright mind, -which rendered it necessary that he should approve highly to love -strongly. Perhaps during former years he had suffered from the -late-discovered unworthiness of one beloved, and so was disposed to set -a greater value on tried worth. There was a show of gratitude and -worship in his attachment to my mother, differing wholly from the -doating fondness of age, for it was inspired by reverence for her -virtues, and a desire to be the means of, in some degree, recompensing -her for the sorrows she had endured, but which gave inexpressible grace -to his behaviour to her. Every thing was made to yield to her wishes and -her convenience. He strove to shelter her, as a fair exotic is sheltered -by the gardener, from every rougher wind, and to surround her with all -that could tend to excite pleasurable emotion in her soft and benevolent -mind. Her health, and even the tranquillity of her hitherto constant -spirit, had been shaken by what she had gone through. During the two -years that had elapsed previous to their marriage my father had -gradually relinquished all his public functions; and immediately after -their union they sought the pleasant climate of Italy, and the change of -scene and interest attendant on a tour through that land of wonders, as -a restorative for her weakened frame. - -From Italy they visited Germany and France. I, their eldest child, was -born at Naples, and as an infant accompanied them in their rambles. I -remained for several years their only child. Much as they were attached -to each other, they seemed to draw inexhaustible stores of affection -from a very mine of love to bestow them upon me. My mother's tender -caresses, and my father's smile of benevolent pleasure while regarding -me, are my first recollections. I was their plaything and their idol, -and something better--their child, the innocent and helpless creature -bestowed on them by Heaven, whom to bring up to good, and whose future -lot it was in their hands to direct to happiness or misery, according as -they fulfilled their duties towards me. With this deep consciousness of -what they owed towards the being to which they had given life, added to -the active spirit of tenderness that animated both, it may be imagined -that while during every hour of my infant life I received a lesson of -patience, of charity, and of self-control, I was so guided by a silken -cord, that all seemed but one train of enjoyment to me. - -For a long time I was their only care. My mother had much desired to -have a daughter, but I continued their single offspring. When I was -about five years old, while making an excursion beyond the frontiers of -Italy, they passed a week on the shores of the Lake of Como. Their -benevolent disposition often made them enter the cottages of the poor. -This, to my mother, was more than a duty; it was a necessity, a -passion,--remembering what she had suffered, and how she had been -relieved,--for her to act in her turn the guardian angel to the -afflicted. During one of their walks a poor cot in the foldings of a -vale attracted their notice, as being singularly disconsolate, while the -number of half-clothed children gathered about it, spoke of penury in -its worst shape. One day, when my father had gone by himself to Milan, -my mother, accompanied by me, visited this abode. She found a peasant -and his wife, hard working, bent down by care and labour, distributing a -scanty meal to five hungry babes. Among these there was one which -attracted my mother far above all the rest. She appeared of a different -stock. The four others were dark-eyed, hardy little vagrants; this child -was thin, and very fair. Her hair was the brightest living gold, and, -despite the poverty of her clothing, seemed to set a crown of -distinction on her head. Her brow was clear and ample, her blue eyes -cloudless, and her lips and the moulding of her face so expressive of -sensibility and sweetness, that none could behold her without looking on -her as of a distinct species, a being heaven-sent, and bearing a -celestial stamp in all her features. - -The peasant woman, perceiving that my mother fixed eyes of wonder and -admiration on this lovely girl, eagerly communicated her history. She -was not her child, but the daughter of a Milanese nobleman. Her mother -was a German, and had died on giving her birth. The infant had been -placed with these good people to nurse: they were better off then. They -had not been long married, and their eldest child was but just born. The -father of their charge was one of those Italians nursed in the memory of -the antique glory of Italy,--one among the _schiavi ognor frementi_, who -exerted himself to obtain the liberty of his country. He became the -victim of its weakness. Whether he had died, or still lingered in the -dungeons of Austria, was not known. His property was confiscated, his -child became an orphan and a beggar. She continued with her foster -parents, and bloomed in their rude abode, fairer than a garden rose -among dark-leaved brambles. - -When my father returned from Milan, he found playing with me in the hall -of our villa, a child fairer than pictured cherub--a creature who seemed -to shed radiance from her looks, and whose form and motions were lighter -than the chamois of the hills. The apparition was soon explained. With -his permission my mother prevailed on her rustic guardians to yield -their charge to her. They were fond of the sweet orphan. Her presence -had seemed a blessing to them; but it would be unfair to her to keep her -in poverty and want, when Providence afforded her such powerful -protection. They consulted their village priest, and the result was, -that Elizabeth Lavenza became the inmate of my parents' house--my more -than sister--the beautiful and adored companion of all my occupations -and my pleasures. - -Every one loved Elizabeth. The passionate and almost reverential -attachment with which all regarded her became, while I shared it, my -pride and my delight. On the evening previous to her being brought to my -home, my mother had said playfully,--"I have a pretty present for my -Victor--to-morrow he shall have it." And when, on the morrow, she -presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish -seriousness, interpreted her words literally, and looked upon Elizabeth -as mine--mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on -her, I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other -familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body -forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me--my more than -sister, since till death she was to be mine only. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -We were brought up together; there was not quite a year difference in -our ages. I need not say that we were strangers to any species of -disunion or dispute. Harmony was the soul of our companionship, and the -diversity and contrast that subsisted in our characters drew us nearer -together. Elizabeth was of a calmer and more concentrated disposition; -but, with all my ardour, I was capable of a more intense application, -and was more deeply smitten with the thirst for knowledge. She busied -herself with following the aerial creations of the poets; and in the -majestic and wondrous scenes which surrounded our Swiss home--the -sublime shapes of the mountains; the changes of the seasons; tempest and -calm; the silence of winter, and the life and turbulence of our Alpine -summers,--she found ample scope for admiration and delight. While my -companion contemplated with a serious and satisfied spirit the -magnificent appearances of things, I delighted in investigating their -causes. The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. -Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature, gladness -akin to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among the earliest -sensations I can remember. - -On the birth of a second son, my junior by seven years, my parents gave -up entirely their wandering life, and fixed themselves in their native -country. We possessed a house in Geneva, and a _campagne_ on Belrive, -the eastern shore of the lake, at the distance of rather more than a -league from the city. We resided principally in the latter, and the -lives of my parents were passed in considerable seclusion. It was my -temper to avoid a crowd, and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was -indifferent, therefore, to my schoolfellows in general; but I united -myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them. Henry -Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva. He was a boy of singular -talent and fancy. He loved enterprise, hardship, and even danger, for -its own sake. He was deeply read in books of chivalry and romance. He -composed heroic songs, and began to write many a tale of enchantment and -knightly adventure. He tried to make us act plays, and to enter into -masquerades, in which the characters were drawn from the heroes of -Roncesvalles, of the Round Table of King Arthur, and the chivalrous -train who shed their blood to redeem the holy sepulchre from the hands -of the infidels. - -No human being could have passed a happier childhood than myself. My -parents were possessed by the very spirit of kindness and indulgence. We -felt that they were not the tyrants to rule our lot according to their -caprice, but the agents and creators of all the many delights which we -enjoyed. When I mingled with other families, I distinctly discerned how -peculiarly fortunate my lot was, and gratitude assisted the developement -of filial love. - -My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some -law in my temperature they were turned, not towards childish pursuits, -but to an eager desire to learn, and not to learn all things -indiscriminately. I confess that neither the structure of languages, nor -the code of governments, nor the politics of various states, possessed -attractions for me. It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I -desired to learn; and whether it was the outward substance of things, or -the inner spirit of nature and the mysterious soul of man that occupied -me, still my enquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or, in its -highest sense, the physical secrets of the world. - -Meanwhile Clerval occupied himself, so to speak, with the moral -relations of things. The busy stage of life, the virtues of heroes, and -the actions of men, were his theme; and his hope and his dream was to -become one among those whose names are recorded in story, as the -gallant and adventurous benefactors of our species. The saintly soul of -Elizabeth shone like a shrine-dedicated lamp in our peaceful home. Her -sympathy was ours; her smile, her soft voice, the sweet glance of her -celestial eyes, were ever there to bless and animate us. She was the -living spirit of love to soften and attract: I might have become sullen -in my study, rough through the ardour of my nature, but that she was -there to subdue me to a semblance of her own gentleness. And -Clerval--could aught ill entrench on the noble spirit of Clerval?--yet -he might not have been so perfectly humane, so thoughtful in his -generosity--so full of kindness and tenderness amidst his passion for -adventurous exploit, had she not unfolded to him the real loveliness of -beneficence, and made the doing good the end and aim of his soaring -ambition. - -I feel exquisite pleasure in dwelling on the recollections of childhood, -before misfortune had tainted my mind, and changed its bright visions of -extensive usefulness into gloomy and narrow reflections upon self. -Besides, in drawing the picture of my early days, I also record those -events which led, by insensible steps, to my after tale of misery: for -when I would account to myself for the birth of that passion, which -afterwards ruled my destiny, I find it arise, like a mountain river, -from ignoble and almost forgotten sources; but, swelling as it -proceeded, it became the torrent which, in its course, has swept away -all my hopes and joys. - -Natural philosophy is the genius that has regulated my fate; I desire, -therefore, in this narration, to state those facts which led to my -predilection for that science. When I was thirteen years of age, we all -went on a party of pleasure to the baths near Thonon: the inclemency of -the weather obliged us to remain a day confined to the inn. In this -house I chanced to find a volume of the works of Cornelius Agrippa. I -opened it with apathy; the theory which he attempts to demonstrate, and -the wonderful facts which he relates, soon changed this feeling into -enthusiasm. A new light seemed to dawn upon my mind; and, bounding with -joy, I communicated my discovery to my father. My father looked -carelessly at the titlepage of my book, and said, "Ah! Cornelius -Agrippa! My dear Victor, do not waste your time upon this; it is sad -trash." - -If, instead of this remark, my father had taken the pains to explain to -me, that the principles of Agrippa had been entirely exploded, and that -a modern system of science had been introduced, which possessed much -greater powers than the ancient, because the powers of the latter were -chimerical, while those of the former were real and practical; under -such circumstances, I should certainly have thrown Agrippa aside, and -have contented my imagination, warmed as it was, by returning with -greater ardour to my former studies. It is even possible, that the train -of my ideas would never have received the fatal impulse that led to my -ruin. But the cursory glance my father had taken of my volume by no -means assured me that he was acquainted with its contents; and I -continued to read with the greatest avidity. - -When I returned home, my first care was to procure the whole works of -this author, and afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read -and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they -appeared to me treasures known to few beside myself. I have described -myself as always having been embued with a fervent longing to penetrate -the secrets of nature. In spite of the intense labour and wonderful -discoveries of modern philosophers, I always came from my studies -discontented and unsatisfied. Sir Isaac Newton is said to have avowed -that he felt like a child picking up shells beside the great and -unexplored ocean of truth. Those of his successors in each branch of -natural philosophy with whom I was acquainted, appeared even to my boy's -apprehensions, as tyros engaged in the same pursuit. - -The untaught peasant beheld the elements around him, and was acquainted -with their practical uses. The most learned philosopher knew little -more. He had partially unveiled the face of Nature, but her immortal -lineaments were still a wonder and a mystery. He might dissect, -anatomise, and give names; but, not to speak of a final cause, causes in -their secondary and tertiary grades were utterly unknown to him. I had -gazed upon the fortifications and impediments that seemed to keep human -beings from entering the citadel of nature, and rashly and ignorantly I -had repined. - -But here were books, and here were men who had penetrated deeper and -knew more. I took their word for all that they averred, and I became -their disciple. It may appear strange that such should arise in the -eighteenth century; but while I followed the routine of education in the -schools of Geneva, I was, to a great degree, self taught with regard to -my favourite studies. My father was not scientific, and I was left to -struggle with a child's blindness, added to a student's thirst for -knowledge. Under the guidance of my new preceptors, I entered with the -greatest diligence into the search of the philosopher's stone and the -elixir of life; but the latter soon obtained my undivided attention. -Wealth was an inferior object; but what glory would attend the -discovery, if I could banish disease from the human frame, and render -man invulnerable to any but a violent death! - -Nor were these my only visions. The raising of ghosts or devils was a -promise liberally accorded by my favourite authors, the fulfilment of -which I most eagerly sought; and if my incantations were always -unsuccessful, I attributed the failure rather to my own inexperience and -mistake, than to a want of skill or fidelity in my instructors. And thus -for a time I was occupied by exploded systems, mingling, like an -unadept, a thousand contradictory theories, and floundering desperately -in a very slough of multifarious knowledge, guided by an ardent -imagination and childish reasoning, till an accident again changed the -current of my ideas. - -When I was about fifteen years old we had retired to our house near -Belrive, when we witnessed a most violent and terrible thunder-storm. It -advanced from behind the mountains of Jura; and the thunder burst at -once with frightful loudness from various quarters of the heavens. I -remained, while the storm lasted, watching its progress with curiosity -and delight. As I stood at the door, on a sudden I beheld a stream of -fire issue from an old and beautiful oak, which stood about twenty yards -from our house; and so soon as the dazzling light vanished, the oak had -disappeared, and nothing remained but a blasted stump. When we visited -it the next morning, we found the tree shattered in a singular manner. -It was not splintered by the shock, but entirely reduced to thin ribands -of wood. I never beheld any thing so utterly destroyed. - -Before this I was not unacquainted with the more obvious laws of -electricity. On this occasion a man of great research in natural -philosophy was with us, and, excited by this catastrophe, he entered on -the explanation of a theory which he had formed on the subject of -electricity and galvanism, which was at once new and astonishing to me. -All that he said threw greatly into the shade Cornelius Agrippa, -Albertus Magnus, and Paracelsus, the lords of my imagination; but by -some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my -accustomed studies. It seemed to me as if nothing would or could ever be -known. All that had so long engaged my attention suddenly grew -despicable. By one of those caprices of the mind, which we are perhaps -most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former occupations; -set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed and abortive -creation; and entertained the greatest disdain for a would-be science, -which could never even step within the threshold of real knowledge. In -this mood of mind I betook myself to the mathematics, and the branches -of study appertaining to that science, as being built upon secure -foundations, and so worthy of my consideration. - -Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments -are we bound to prosperity or ruin. When I look back, it seems to me as -if this almost miraculous change of inclination and will was the -immediate suggestion of the guardian angel of my life--the last effort -made by the spirit of preservation to avert the storm that was even then -hanging in the stars, and ready to envelope me. Her victory was -announced by an unusual tranquillity and gladness of soul, which -followed the relinquishing of my ancient and latterly tormenting -studies. It was thus that I was to be taught to associate evil with -their prosecution, happiness with their disregard. - -It was a strong effort of the spirit of good; but it was ineffectual. -Destiny was too potent, and her immutable laws had decreed my utter and -terrible destruction. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -When I had attained the age of seventeen, my parents resolved that I -should become a student at the university of Ingolstadt. I had hitherto -attended the schools of Geneva; but my father thought it necessary, for -the completion of my education, that I should be made acquainted with -other customs than those of my native country. My departure was -therefore fixed at an early date; but, before the day resolved upon -could arrive, the first misfortune of my life occurred--an omen, as it -were, of my future misery. - -Elizabeth had caught the scarlet fever; her illness was severe, and she -was in the greatest danger. During her illness, many arguments had been -urged to persuade my mother to refrain from attending upon her. She had, -at first, yielded to our entreaties; but when she heard that the life of -her favourite was menaced, she could no longer control her anxiety. She -attended her sick bed,--her watchful attentions triumphed over the -malignity of the distemper,--Elizabeth was saved, but the consequences -of this imprudence were fatal to her preserver. On the third day my -mother sickened; her fever was accompanied by the most alarming -symptoms, and the looks of her medical attendants prognosticated the -worst event. On her death-bed the fortitude and benignity of this best -of women did not desert her. She joined the hands of Elizabeth and -myself:--"My children," she said, "my firmest hopes of future happiness -were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be -the consolation of your father. Elizabeth, my love, you must supply my -place to my younger children. Alas! I regret that I am taken from you; -and, happy and beloved as I have been, is it not hard to quit you all? -But these are not thoughts befitting me; I will endeavour to resign -myself cheerfully to death, and will indulge a hope of meeting you in -another world." - -She died calmly; and her countenance expressed affection even in death. -I need not describe the feelings of those whose dearest ties are rent by -that most irreparable evil; the void that presents itself to the soul; -and the despair that is exhibited on the countenance. It is so long -before the mind can persuade itself that she, whom we saw every day, and -whose very existence appeared a part of our own, can have departed for -ever--that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished, -and the sound of a voice so familiar, and dear to the ear, can be -hushed, never more to be heard. These are the reflections of the first -days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the evil, then -the actual bitterness of grief commences. Yet from whom has not that -rude hand rent away some dear connection? and why should I describe a -sorrow which all have felt, and must feel? The time at length arrives, -when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and the smile that -plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not -banished. My mother was dead, but we had still duties which we ought to -perform; we must continue our course with the rest, and learn to think -ourselves fortunate, whilst one remains whom the spoiler has not seized. - -My departure for Ingolstadt, which had been deferred by these events, -was now again determined upon. I obtained from my father a respite of -some weeks. It appeared to me sacrilege so soon to leave the repose, -akin to death, of the house of mourning, and to rush into the thick of -life. I was new to sorrow, but it did not the less alarm me. I was -unwilling to quit the sight of those that remained to me; and, above -all, I desired to see my sweet Elizabeth in some degree consoled. - -She indeed veiled her grief, and strove to act the comforter to us all. -She looked steadily on life, and assumed its duties with courage and -zeal. She devoted herself to those whom she had been taught to call her -uncle and cousins. Never was she so enchanting as at this time, when -she recalled the sunshine of her smiles and spent them upon us. She -forgot even her own regret in her endeavours to make us forget. - -The day of my departure at length arrived. Clerval spent the last -evening with us. He had endeavoured to persuade his father to permit him -to accompany me, and to become my fellow student; but in vain. His -father was a narrow-minded trader, and saw idleness and ruin in the -aspirations and ambition of his son. Henry deeply felt the misfortune of -being debarred from a liberal education. He said little; but when he -spoke, I read in his kindling eye and in his animated glance a -restrained but firm resolve, not to be chained to the miserable details -of commerce. - -[Illustration: _The day of my departure at length arrived._] - -We sat late. We could not tear ourselves away from each other, nor -persuade ourselves to say the word "Farewell!" It was said; and we -retired under the pretence of seeking repose, each fancying that the -other was deceived: but when at morning's dawn I descended to the -carriage which was to convey me away, they were all there--my father -again to bless me, Clerval to press my hand once more, my Elizabeth to -renew her entreaties that I would write often, and to bestow the last -feminine attentions on her playmate and friend. - -I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away, and indulged -in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by -amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual -pleasure, I was now alone. In the university, whither I was going, I -must form my own friends, and be my own protector. My life had hitherto -been remarkably secluded and domestic; and this had given me invincible -repugnance to new countenances. I loved my brothers, Elizabeth, and -Clerval; these were "old familiar faces;" but I believed myself totally -unfitted for the company of strangers. Such were my reflections as I -commenced my journey; but as I proceeded, my spirits and hopes rose. I -ardently desired the acquisition of knowledge. I had often, when at -home, thought it hard to remain during my youth cooped up in one place, -and had longed to enter the world, and take my station among other -human beings. Now my desires were complied with, and it would, indeed, -have been folly to repent. - -I had sufficient leisure for these and many other reflections during my -journey to Ingolstadt, which was long and fatiguing. At length the high -white steeple of the town met my eyes. I alighted, and was conducted to -my solitary apartment, to spend the evening as I pleased. - -The next morning I delivered my letters of introduction, and paid a -visit to some of the principal professors. Chance--or rather the evil -influence, the Angel of Destruction, which asserted omnipotent sway over -me from the moment I turned my reluctant steps from my father's -door--led me first to Mr. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy. He -was an uncouth man, but deeply embued in the secrets of his science. He -asked me several questions concerning my progress in the different -branches of science appertaining to natural philosophy. I replied -carelessly; and, partly in contempt, mentioned the names of my -alchymists as the principal authors I had studied. The professor stared: -"Have you," he said, "really spent your time in studying such nonsense?" - -I replied in the affirmative. "Every minute," continued M. Krempe with -warmth, "every instant that you have wasted on those books is utterly -and entirely lost. You have burdened your memory with exploded systems -and useless names. Good God! in what desert land have you lived, where -no one was kind enough to inform you that these fancies, which you have -so greedily imbibed, are a thousand years old, and as musty as they are -ancient? I little expected, in this enlightened and scientific age, to -find a disciple of Albertus Magnus and Paracelsus. My dear sir, you must -begin your studies entirely anew." - -So saying, he stept aside, and wrote down a list of several books -treating of natural philosophy, which he desired me to procure; and -dismissed me, after mentioning that in the beginning of the following -week he intended to commence a course of lectures upon natural -philosophy in its general relations, and that M. Waldman, a -fellow-professor, would lecture upon chemistry the alternate days that -he omitted. - -I returned home, not disappointed, for I have said that I had long -considered those authors useless whom the professor reprobated; but I -returned, not at all the more inclined to recur to these studies in any -shape. M. Krempe was a little squat man, with a gruff voice and a -repulsive countenance; the teacher, therefore, did not prepossess me in -favour of his pursuits. In rather a too philosophical and connected a -strain, perhaps, I have given an account of the conclusions I had come -to concerning them in my early years. As a child, I had not been content -with the results promised by the modern professors of natural science. -With a confusion of ideas only to be accounted for by my extreme youth, -and my want of a guide on such matters, I had retrod the steps of -knowledge along the paths of time, and exchanged the discoveries of -recent enquirers for the dreams of forgotten alchymists. Besides, I had -a contempt for the uses of modern natural philosophy. It was very -different, when the masters of the science sought immortality and power; -such views, although futile, were grand: but now the scene was changed. -The ambition of the enquirer seemed to limit itself to the annihilation -of those visions on which my interest in science was chiefly founded. I -was required to exchange chimeras of boundless grandeur for realities of -little worth. - -Such were my reflections during the first two or three days of my -residence at Ingolstadt, which were chiefly spent in becoming acquainted -with the localities, and the principal residents in my new abode. But as -the ensuing week commenced, I thought of the information which M. Krempe -had given me concerning the lectures. And although I could not consent -to go and hear that little conceited fellow deliver sentences out of a -pulpit, I recollected what he had said of M. Waldman, whom I had never -seen, as he had hitherto been out of town. - -Partly from curiosity, and partly from idleness, I went into the -lecturing room, which M. Waldman entered shortly after. This professor -was very unlike his colleague. He appeared about fifty years of age, but -with an aspect expressive of the greatest benevolence; a few grey hairs -covered his temples, but those at the back of his head were nearly -black. His person was short, but remarkably erect; and his voice the -sweetest I had ever heard. He began his lecture by a recapitulation of -the history of chemistry, and the various improvements made by different -men of learning, pronouncing with fervour the names of the most -distinguished discoverers. He then took a cursory view of the present -state of the science, and explained many of its elementary terms. After -having made a few preparatory experiments, he concluded with a panegyric -upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget:-- - -"The ancient teachers of this science," said he, "promised -impossibilities, and performed nothing. The modern masters promise very -little; they know that metals cannot be transmuted, and that the elixir -of life is a chimera. But these philosophers, whose hands seem only made -to dabble in dirt, and their eyes to pore over the microscope or -crucible, have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate into the -recesses of nature, and show how she works in her hiding places. They -ascend into the heavens: they have discovered how the blood circulates, -and the nature of the air we breathe. They have acquired new and almost -unlimited powers; they can command the thunders of heaven, mimic the -earthquake, and even mock the invisible world with its own shadows." - -Such were the professor's words--rather let me say such the words of -fate, enounced to destroy me. As he went on, I felt as if my soul were -grappling with a palpable enemy; one by one the various keys were -touched which formed the mechanism of my being: chord after chord was -sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, -one purpose. So much has been done, exclaimed the soul of -Frankenstein,--more, far more, will I achieve: treading in the steps -already marked, I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and -unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation. - -I closed not my eyes that night. My internal being was in a state of -insurrection and turmoil; I felt that order would thence arise, but I -had no power to produce it. By degrees, after the morning's dawn, sleep -came. I awoke, and my yesternight's thoughts were as a dream. There -only remained a resolution to return to my ancient studies, and to -devote myself to a science for which I believed myself to possess a -natural talent. On the same day, I paid M. Waldman a visit. His manners -in private were even more mild and attractive than in public; for there -was a certain dignity in his mien during his lecture, which in his own -house was replaced by the greatest affability and kindness. I gave him -pretty nearly the same account of my former pursuits as I had given to -his fellow-professor. He heard with attention the little narration -concerning my studies, and smiled at the names of Cornelius Agrippa and -Paracelsus, but without the contempt that M. Krempe had exhibited. He -said, that "these were men to whose indefatigable zeal modern -philosophers were indebted for most of the foundations of their -knowledge. They had left to us, as an easier task, to give new names, -and arrange in connected classifications, the facts which they in a -great degree had been the instruments of bringing to light. The labours -of men of genius, however erroneously directed, scarcely ever fail in -ultimately turning to the solid advantage of mankind." I listened to his -statement, which was delivered without any presumption or affectation; -and then added, that his lecture had removed my prejudices against -modern chemists; I expressed myself in measured terms, with the modesty -and deference due from a youth to his instructor, without letting escape -(inexperience in life would have made me ashamed) any of the enthusiasm -which stimulated my intended labours. I requested his advice concerning -the books I ought to procure. - -"I am happy," said M. Waldman, "to have gained a disciple; and if your -application equals your ability, I have no doubt of your success. -Chemistry is that branch of natural philosophy in which the greatest -improvements have been and may be made: it is on that account that I -have made it my peculiar study; but at the same time I have not -neglected the other branches of science. A man would make but a very -sorry chemist if he attended to that department of human knowledge -alone. If your wish is to become really a man of science, and not merely -a petty experimentalist, I should advise you to apply to every branch -of natural philosophy, including mathematics." - -He then took me into his laboratory, and explained to me the uses of his -various machines; instructing me as to what I ought to procure, and -promising me the use of his own when I should have advanced far enough -in the science not to derange their mechanism. He also gave me the list -of books which I had requested; and I took my leave. - -Thus ended a day memorable to me: it decided my future destiny. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the -most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation. -I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, -which modern enquirers have written on these subjects. I attended the -lectures, and cultivated the acquaintance, of the men of science of the -university; and I found even in M. Krempe a great deal of sound sense -and real information, combined, it is true, with a repulsive physiognomy -and manners, but not on that account the less valuable. In M. Waldman I -found a true friend. His gentleness was never tinged by dogmatism; and -his instructions were given with an air of frankness and good nature, -that banished every idea of pedantry. In a thousand ways he smoothed for -me the path of knowledge, and made the most abstruse enquiries clear and -facile to my apprehension. My application was at first fluctuating and -uncertain; it gained strength as I proceeded, and soon became so ardent -and eager, that the stars often disappeared in the light of morning -whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. - -As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress was -rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and my -proficiency that of the masters. Professor Krempe often asked me, with -a sly smile, how Cornelius Agrippa went on? whilst M. Waldman expressed -the most heart-felt exultation in my progress. Two years passed in this -manner, during which I paid no visit to Geneva, but was engaged, heart -and soul, in the pursuit of some discoveries, which I hoped to make. -None but those who have experienced them can conceive of the enticements -of science. In other studies you go as far as others have gone before -you, and there is nothing more to know; but in a scientific pursuit -there is continual food for discovery and wonder. A mind of moderate -capacity, which closely pursues one study, must infallibly arrive at -great proficiency in that study; and I, who continually sought the -attainment of one object of pursuit, and was solely wrapt up in this, -improved so rapidly, that, at the end of two years, I made some -discoveries in the improvement of some chemical instruments, which -procured me great esteem and admiration at the university. When I had -arrived at this point, and had become as well acquainted with the theory -and practice of natural philosophy as depended on the lessons of any of -the professors at Ingolstadt, my residence there being no longer -conducive to my improvements, I thought of returning to my friends and -my native town, when an incident happened that protracted my stay. - -One of the phenomena which had peculiarly attracted my attention was the -structure of the human frame, and, indeed, any animal endued with life. -Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life proceed? It was -a bold question, and one which has ever been considered as a mystery; -yet with how many things are we upon the brink of becoming acquainted, -if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our enquiries. I revolved -these circumstances in my mind, and determined thenceforth to apply -myself more particularly to those branches of natural philosophy which -relate to physiology. Unless I had been animated by an almost -supernatural enthusiasm, my application to this study would have been -irksome, and almost intolerable. To examine the causes of life, we must -first have recourse to death. I became acquainted with the science of -anatomy: but this was not sufficient; I must also observe the natural -decay and corruption of the human body. In my education my father had -taken the greatest precautions that my mind should be impressed with no -supernatural horrors. I do not ever remember to have trembled at a tale -of superstition, or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness -had no effect upon my fancy; and a churchyard was to me merely the -receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of -beauty and strength, had become food for the worm. Now I was led to -examine the cause and progress of this decay, and forced to spend days -and nights in vaults and charnel-houses. My attention was fixed upon -every object the most insupportable to the delicacy of the human -feelings. I saw how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted; I -beheld the corruption of death succeed to the blooming cheek of life; I -saw how the worm inherited the wonders of the eye and brain. I paused, -examining and analysing all the minutiæ of causation, as exemplified in -the change from life to death, and death to life, until from the midst -of this darkness a sudden light broke in upon me--a light so brilliant -and wondrous, yet so simple, that while I became dizzy with the -immensity of the prospect which it illustrated, I was surprised, that -among so many men of genius who had directed their enquiries towards the -same science, that I alone should be reserved to discover so astonishing -a secret. - -Remember, I am not recording the vision of a madman. The sun does not -more certainly shine in the heavens, than that which I now affirm is -true. Some miracle might have produced it, yet the stages of the -discovery were distinct and probable. After days and nights of -incredible labour and fatigue, I succeeded in discovering the cause of -generation and life; nay, more, I became myself capable of bestowing -animation upon lifeless matter. - -The astonishment which I had at first experienced on this discovery soon -gave place to delight and rapture. After so much time spent in painful -labour, to arrive at once at the summit of my desires, was the most -gratifying consummation of my toils. But this discovery was so great -and overwhelming, that all the steps by which I had been progressively -led to it were obliterated, and I beheld only the result. What had been -the study and desire of the wisest men since the creation of the world -was now within my grasp. Not that, like a magic scene, it all opened -upon me at once: the information I had obtained was of a nature rather -to direct my endeavours so soon as I should point them towards the -object of my search, than to exhibit that object already accomplished. I -was like the Arabian who had been buried with the dead, and found a -passage to life, aided only by one glimmering, and seemingly -ineffectual, light. - -I see by your eagerness, and the wonder and hope which your eyes -express, my friend, that you expect to be informed of the secret with -which I am acquainted; that cannot be: listen patiently until the end of -my story, and you will easily perceive why I am reserved upon that -subject. I will not lead you on, unguarded and ardent as I then was, to -your destruction and infallible misery. Learn from me, if not by my -precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of -knowledge, and how much happier that man is who believes his native town -to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature -will allow. - -When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated -a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. Although -I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to prepare a frame -for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, -and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable difficulty and labour. -I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like -myself, or one of simpler organization; but my imagination was too much -exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give -life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. The materials at -present within my command hardly appeared adequate to so arduous an -undertaking; but I doubted not that I should ultimately succeed. I -prepared myself for a multitude of reverses; my operations might be -incessantly baffled, and at last my work be imperfect: yet, when I -considered the improvement which every day takes place in science and -mechanics, I was encouraged to hope my present attempts would at least -lay the foundations of future success. Nor could I consider the -magnitude and complexity of my plan as any argument of its -impracticability. It was with these feelings that I began the creation -of a human being. As the minuteness of the parts formed a great -hinderance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first intention, to -make the being of a gigantic stature; that is to say, about eight feet -in height, and proportionably large. After having formed this -determination, and having spent some months in successfully collecting -and arranging my materials, I began. - -No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like -a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared -to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a -torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless me as -its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their -being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so -completely as I should deserve theirs. Pursuing these reflections, I -thought, that if I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might -in process of time (although I now found it impossible) renew life where -death had apparently devoted the body to corruption. - -These thoughts supported my spirits, while I pursued my undertaking with -unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my person -had become emaciated with confinement. Sometimes, on the very brink of -certainty, I failed; yet still I clung to the hope which the next day or -the next hour might realise. One secret which I alone possessed was the -hope to which I had dedicated myself; and the moon gazed on my midnight -labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued -nature to her hiding-places. Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret -toil, as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave, or tortured -the living animal to animate the lifeless clay? My limbs now tremble, -and my eyes swim with the remembrance; but then a resistless, and -almost frantic, impulse, urged me forward; I seemed to have lost all -soul or sensation but for this one pursuit. It was indeed but a passing -trance, that only made me feel with renewed acuteness so soon as, the -unnatural stimulus ceasing to operate, I had returned to my old habits. -I collected bones from charnel-houses; and disturbed, with profane -fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary -chamber, or rather cell, at the top of the house, and separated from all -the other apartments by a gallery and staircase, I kept my workshop of -filthy creation: my eye-balls were starting from their sockets in -attending to the details of my employment. The dissecting room and the -slaughter-house furnished many of my materials; and often did my human -nature turn with loathing from my occupation, whilst, still urged on by -an eagerness which perpetually increased, I brought my work near to a -conclusion. - -The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in -one pursuit. It was a most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow -a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: -but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. And the same -feelings which made me neglect the scenes around me caused me also to -forget those friends who were so many miles absent, and whom I had not -seen for so long a time. I knew my silence disquieted them; and I well -remembered the words of my father: "I know that while you are pleased -with yourself, you will think of us with affection, and we shall hear -regularly from you. You must pardon me if I regard any interruption in -your correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally -neglected." - -I knew well therefore what would be my father's feelings; but I could -not tear my thoughts from my employment, loathsome in itself, but which -had taken an irresistible hold of my imagination. I wished, as it were, -to procrastinate all that related to my feelings of affection until the -great object, which swallowed up every habit of my nature, should be -completed. - -I then thought that my father would be unjust if he ascribed my neglect -to vice, or faultiness on my part; but I am now convinced that he was -justified in conceiving that I should not be altogether free from -blame. A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and -peaceful mind, and never to allow passion or a transitory desire to -disturb his tranquillity. I do not think that the pursuit of knowledge -is an exception to this rule. If the study to which you apply yourself -has a tendency to weaken your affections, and to destroy your taste for -those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that -study is certainly unlawful, that is to say, not befitting the human -mind. If this rule were always observed; if no man allowed any pursuit -whatsoever to interfere with the tranquillity of his domestic -affections, Greece had not been enslaved; Cæsar would have spared his -country; America would have been discovered more gradually; and the -empires of Mexico and Peru had not been destroyed. - -But I forget that I am moralising in the most interesting part of my -tale; and your looks remind me to proceed. - -My father made no reproach in his letters, and only took notice of my -silence by enquiring into my occupations more particularly than before. -Winter, spring, and summer passed away during my labours; but I did not -watch the blossom or the expanding leaves--sights which before always -yielded me supreme delight--so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation. -The leaves of that year had withered before my work drew near to a -close; and now every day showed me more plainly how well I had -succeeded. But my enthusiasm was checked by my anxiety, and I appeared -rather like one doomed by slavery to toil in the mines, or any other -unwholesome trade, than an artist occupied by his favourite employment. -Every night I was oppressed by a slow fever, and I became nervous to a -most painful degree; the fall of a leaf startled me, and I shunned my -fellow-creatures as if I had been guilty of a crime. Sometimes I grew -alarmed at the wreck I perceived that I had become; the energy of my -purpose alone sustained me: my labours would soon end, and I believed -that exercise and amusement would then drive away incipient disease; and -I promised myself both of these when my creation should be complete. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -It was on a dreary night of November, that I beheld the accomplishment -of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected -the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being -into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the -morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was -nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I -saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a -convulsive motion agitated its limbs. - -[Illustration: "_By the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw -the dull, yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a -convulsive motion agitated its limbs, ... I rushed out of the -room._"] - -How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the -wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? -His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as -beautiful. Beautiful!--Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the -work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, -and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only -formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost -of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his -shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. - -The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of -human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole -purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived -myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far -exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the -dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. -Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of -the room, and continued a long time traversing my bedchamber, unable to -compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude succeeded to the tumult I -had before endured; and I threw myself on the bed in my clothes, -endeavouring to seek a few moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain: -I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I -saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets of -Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her; but as I imprinted -the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her -features appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my -dead mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the -grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my -sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, -and every limb became convulsed: when, by the dim and yellow light of -the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the -wretch--the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain -of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. -His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin -wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand -was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped, and rushed -down stairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which -I inhabited; where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up -and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and -fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the -demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life. - -Oh! no mortal could support the horror of that countenance. A mummy -again endued with animation could not be so hideous as that wretch. I -had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then; but when those -muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion, it became a thing -such as even Dante could not have conceived. - -I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so quickly and -hardly, that I felt the palpitation of every artery; at others, I nearly -sank to the ground through languor and extreme weakness. Mingled with -this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had -been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a -hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete! - -Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned, and discovered to my -sleepless and aching eyes the church of Ingolstadt, its white steeple -and clock, which indicated the sixth hour. The porter opened the gates -of the court, which had that night been my asylum, and I issued into the -streets, pacing them with quick steps, as if I sought to avoid the -wretch whom I feared every turning of the street would present to my -view. I did not dare return to the apartment which I inhabited, but felt -impelled to hurry on, although drenched by the rain which poured from a -black and comfortless sky. - -I continued walking in this manner for some time, endeavouring, by -bodily exercise, to ease the load that weighed upon my mind. I traversed -the streets, without any clear conception of where I was, or what I was -doing. My heart palpitated in the sickness of fear; and I hurried on -with irregular steps, not daring to look about me:-- - - "Like one who, on a lonely road, - Doth walk in fear and dread, - And, having once turned round, walks on, - And turns no more his head; - Because he knows a frightful fiend - Doth close behind him tread."[1] - -[Footnote 1: Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner."] - -Continuing thus, I came at length opposite to the inn at which the -various diligences and carriages usually stopped. Here I paused, I knew -not why; but I remained some minutes with my eyes fixed on a coach that -was coming towards me from the other end of the street. As it drew -nearer, I observed that it was the Swiss diligence: it stopped just -where I was standing; and, on the door being opened, I perceived Henry -Clerval, who, on seeing me, instantly sprung out. "My dear -Frankenstein," exclaimed he, "how glad I am to see you! how fortunate -that you should be here at the very moment of my alighting!" - -Nothing could equal my delight on seeing Clerval; his presence brought -back to my thoughts my father, Elizabeth, and all those scenes of home -so dear to my recollection. I grasped his hand, and in a moment forgot -my horror and misfortune; I felt suddenly, and for the first time during -many months, calm and serene joy. I welcomed my friend, therefore, in -the most cordial manner, and we walked towards my college. Clerval -continued talking for some time about our mutual friends, and his own -good fortune in being permitted to come to Ingolstadt. "You may easily -believe," said he, "how great was the difficulty to persuade my father -that all necessary knowledge was not comprised in the noble art of -book-keeping; and, indeed, I believe I left him incredulous to the last, -for his constant answer to my unwearied entreaties was the same as that -of the Dutch schoolmaster in the Vicar of Wakefield:--'I have ten -thousand florins a year without Greek, I eat heartily without Greek.' -But his affection for me at length overcame his dislike of learning, and -he has permitted me to undertake a voyage of discovery to the land of -knowledge." - -"It gives me the greatest delight to see you; but tell me how you left -my father, brothers, and Elizabeth." - -"Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you -so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their account -myself.--But, my dear Frankenstein," continued he, stopping short, and -gazing full in my face, "I did not before remark how very ill you -appear; so thin and pale; you look as if you had been watching for -several nights." - -"You have guessed right; I have lately been so deeply engaged in one -occupation, that I have not allowed myself sufficient rest, as you see: -but I hope, I sincerely hope, that all these employments are now at an -end, and that I am at length free." - -I trembled excessively; I could not endure to think of, and far less to -allude to, the occurrences of the preceding night. I walked with a quick -pace, and we soon arrived at my college. I then reflected, and the -thought made me shiver, that the creature whom I had left in my -apartment might still be there, alive, and walking about. I dreaded to -behold this monster; but I feared still more that Henry should see him. -Entreating him, therefore, to remain a few minutes at the bottom of the -stairs, I darted up towards my own room. My hand was already on the lock -of the door before I recollected myself. I then paused; and a cold -shivering came over me. I threw the door forcibly open, as children are -accustomed to do when they expect a spectre to stand in waiting for them -on the other side; but nothing appeared. I stepped fearfully in: the -apartment was empty; and my bed-room was also freed from its hideous -guest. I could hardly believe that so great a good fortune could have -befallen me; but when I became assured that my enemy had indeed fled, I -clapped my hands for joy, and ran down to Clerval. - -We ascended into my room, and the servant presently brought breakfast; -but I was unable to contain myself. It was not joy only that possessed -me; I felt my flesh tingle with excess of sensitiveness, and my pulse -beat rapidly. I was unable to remain for a single instant in the same -place; I jumped over the chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. -Clerval at first attributed my unusual spirits to joy on his arrival; -but when he observed me more attentively, he saw a wildness in my eyes -for which he could not account; and my loud, unrestrained, heartless -laughter, frightened and astonished him. - -"My dear Victor," cried he, "what, for God's sake, is the matter? Do not -laugh in that manner. How ill you are! What is the cause of all this?" - -"Do not ask me," cried I, putting my hands before my eyes, for I thought -I saw the dreaded spectre glide into the room; "_he_ can tell.--Oh, save -me! save me!" I imagined that the monster seized me; I struggled -furiously, and fell down in a fit. - -Poor Clerval! what must have been his feelings? A meeting, which he -anticipated with such joy, so strangely turned to bitterness. But I was -not the witness of his grief; for I was lifeless, and did not recover my -senses for a long, long time. - -This was the commencement of a nervous fever, which confined me for -several months. During all that time Henry was my only nurse. I -afterwards learned that, knowing my father's advanced age, and unfitness -for so long a journey, and how wretched my sickness would make -Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by concealing the extent of my -disorder. He knew that I could not have a more kind and attentive nurse -than himself; and, firm in the hope he felt of my recovery, he did not -doubt that, instead of doing harm, he performed the kindest action that -he could towards them. - -But I was in reality very ill; and surely nothing but the unbounded and -unremitting attentions of my friend could have restored me to life. The -form of the monster on whom I had bestowed existence was for ever before -my eyes, and I raved incessantly concerning him. Doubtless my words -surprised Henry: he at first believed them to be the wanderings of my -disturbed imagination; but the pertinacity with which I continually -recurred to the same subject, persuaded him that my disorder indeed owed -its origin to some uncommon and terrible event. - -By very slow degrees, and with frequent relapses, that alarmed and -grieved my friend, I recovered. I remember the first time I became -capable of observing outward objects with any kind of pleasure, I -perceived that the fallen leaves had disappeared, and that the young -buds were shooting forth from the trees that shaded my window. It was a -divine spring; and the season contributed greatly to my convalescence. I -felt also sentiments of joy and affection revive in my bosom; my gloom -disappeared, and in a short time I became as cheerful as before I was -attacked by the fatal passion. - -"Dearest Clerval," exclaimed I, "how kind, how very good you are to me. -This whole winter, instead of being spent in study, as you promised -yourself, has been consumed in my sick room. How shall I ever repay you? -I feel the greatest remorse for the disappointment of which I have been -the occasion; but you will forgive me." - -"You will repay me entirely, if you do not discompose yourself, but get -well as fast as you can; and since you appear in such good spirits, I -may speak to you on one subject, may I not?" - -I trembled. One subject! what could it be? Could he allude to an object -on whom I dared not even think? - -"Compose yourself," said Clerval, who observed my change of colour, "I -will not mention it, if it agitates you; but your father and cousin -would be very happy if they received a letter from you in your own -handwriting. They hardly know how ill you have been, and are uneasy at -your long silence." - -"Is that all, my dear Henry? How could you suppose that my first -thought would not fly towards those dear, dear friends whom I love, and -who are so deserving of my love." - -"If this is your present temper, my friend, you will perhaps be glad to -see a letter that has been lying here some days for you: it is from your -cousin, I believe." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -Clerval then put the following letter into my hands. It was from my own -Elizabeth:-- - -"My dearest Cousin, - -"You have been ill, very ill, and even the constant letters of dear kind -Henry are not sufficient to reassure me on your account. You are -forbidden to write--to hold a pen; yet one word from you, dear Victor, -is necessary to calm our apprehensions. For a long time I have thought -that each post would bring this line, and my persuasions have restrained -my uncle from undertaking a journey to Ingolstadt. I have prevented his -encountering the inconveniences and perhaps dangers of so long a -journey; yet how often have I regretted not being able to perform it -myself! I figure to myself that the task of attending on your sick bed -has devolved on some mercenary old nurse, who could never guess your -wishes, nor minister to them with the care and affection of your poor -cousin. Yet that is over now: Clerval writes that indeed you are getting -better. I eagerly hope that you will confirm this intelligence soon in -your own handwriting. - -"Get well--and return to us. You will find a happy, cheerful home, and -friends who love you dearly. Your father's health is vigorous, and he -asks but to see you,--but to be assured that you are well; and not a -care will ever cloud his benevolent countenance. How pleased you would -be to remark the improvement of our Ernest! He is now sixteen, and full -of activity and spirit. He is desirous to be a true Swiss, and to enter -into foreign service; but we cannot part with him, at least until his -elder brother return to us. My uncle is not pleased with the idea of a -military career in a distant country; but Ernest never had your powers -of application. He looks upon study as an odious fetter;--his time is -spent in the open air, climbing the hills or rowing on the lake. I fear -that he will become an idler, unless we yield the point, and permit him -to enter on the profession which he has selected. - -"Little alteration, except the growth of our dear children, has taken -place since you left us. The blue lake, and snow-clad mountains, they -never change;--and I think our placid home, and our contented hearts are -regulated by the same immutable laws. My trifling occupations take up my -time and amuse me, and I am rewarded for any exertions by seeing none -but happy, kind faces around me. Since you left us, but one change has -taken place in our little household. Do you remember on what occasion -Justine Moritz entered our family? Probably you do not; I will relate -her history, therefore, in a few words. Madame Moritz, her mother, was a -widow with four children, of whom Justine was the third. This girl had -always been the favourite of her father; but, through a strange -perversity, her mother could not endure her, and, after the death of M. -Moritz, treated her very ill. My aunt observed this; and, when Justine -was twelve years of age, prevailed on her mother to allow her to live at -our house. The republican institutions of our country have produced -simpler and happier manners than those which prevail in the great -monarchies that surround it. Hence there is less distinction between the -several classes of its inhabitants; and the lower orders, being neither -so poor nor so despised, their manners are more refined and moral. A -servant in Geneva does not mean the same thing as a servant in France -and England. Justine, thus received in our family, learned the duties of -a servant; a condition which, in our fortunate country, does not include -the idea of ignorance, and a sacrifice of the dignity of a human being. - -"Justine, you may remember, was a great favourite of yours; and I -recollect you once remarked, that if you were in an ill-humour, one -glance from Justine could dissipate it, for the same reason that -Ariosto gives concerning the beauty of Angelica--she looked so -frank-hearted and happy. My aunt conceived a great attachment for her, -by which she was induced to give her an education superior to that which -she had at first intended. This benefit was fully repaid; Justine was -the most grateful little creature in the world: I do not mean that she -made any professions; I never heard one pass her lips; but you could see -by her eyes that she almost adored her protectress. Although her -disposition was gay, and in many respects inconsiderate, yet she paid -the greatest attention to every gesture of my aunt. She thought her the -model of all excellence, and endeavoured to imitate her phraseology and -manners, so that even now she often reminds me of her. - -"When my dearest aunt died, every one was too much occupied in their own -grief to notice poor Justine, who had attended her during her illness -with the most anxious affection. Poor Justine was very ill; but other -trials were reserved for her. - -"One by one, her brothers and sister died; and her mother, with the -exception of her neglected daughter, was left childless. The conscience -of the woman was troubled; she began to think that the deaths of her -favourites was a judgment from heaven to chastise her partiality. She -was a Roman catholic; and I believe her confessor confirmed the idea -which she had conceived. Accordingly, a few months after your departure -for Ingolstadt, Justine was called home by her repentant mother. Poor -girl! she wept when she quitted our house; she was much altered since -the death of my aunt; grief had given softness and a winning mildness to -her manners, which had before been remarkable for vivacity. Nor was her -residence at her mother's house of a nature to restore her gaiety. The -poor woman was very vacillating in her repentance. She sometimes begged -Justine to forgive her unkindness, but much oftener accused her of -having caused the deaths of her brothers and sister. Perpetual fretting -at length threw Madame Moritz into a decline, which at first increased -her irritability, but she is now at peace for ever. She died on the -first approach of cold weather, at the beginning of this last winter. -Justine has returned to us; and I assure you I love her tenderly. She is -very clever and gentle, and extremely pretty; as I mentioned before, her -mien and her expressions continually remind me of my dear aunt. - -"I must say also a few words to you, my dear cousin, of little darling -William. I wish you could see him; he is very tall of his age, with -sweet laughing blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and curling hair. When he -smiles, two little dimples appear on each cheek, which are rosy with -health. He has already had one or two little _wives_, but Louisa Biron -is his favourite, a pretty little girl of five years of age. - -"Now, dear Victor, I dare say you wish to be indulged in a little gossip -concerning the good people of Geneva. The pretty Miss Mansfield has -already received the congratulatory visits on her approaching marriage -with a young Englishman, John Melbourne, Esq. Her ugly sister, Manon, -married M. Duvillard, the rich banker, last autumn. Your favourite -schoolfellow, Louis Manoir, has suffered several misfortunes since the -departure of Clerval from Geneva. But he has already recovered his -spirits, and is reported to be on the point of marrying a very lively -pretty Frenchwoman, Madame Tavernier. She is a widow, and much older -than Manoir; but she is very much admired, and a favourite with -everybody. - -"I have written myself into better spirits, dear cousin; but my anxiety -returns upon me as I conclude. Write, dearest Victor,--one line--one -word will be a blessing to us. Ten thousand thanks to Henry for his -kindness, his affection, and his many letters: we are sincerely -grateful. Adieu! my cousin; take care of yourself; and, I entreat you, -write! - -"ELIZABETH LAVENZA. - -"Geneva, March 18th, 17--." - - * * * * * - -"Dear, dear Elizabeth!" I exclaimed, when I had read her letter, "I will -write instantly, and relieve them from the anxiety they must feel." I -wrote, and this exertion greatly fatigued me; but my convalescence had -commenced, and proceeded regularly. In another fortnight I was able to -leave my chamber. - -One of my first duties on my recovery was to introduce Clerval to the -several professors of the university. In doing this, I underwent a kind -of rough usage, ill befitting the wounds that my mind had sustained. -Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of -my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even to the name of -natural philosophy. When I was otherwise quite restored to health, the -sight of a chemical instrument would renew all the agony of my nervous -symptoms. Henry saw this, and had removed all my apparatus from my view. -He had also changed my apartment; for he perceived that I had acquired a -dislike for the room which had previously been my laboratory. But these -cares of Clerval were made of no avail when I visited the professors. M. -Waldman inflicted torture when he praised, with kindness and warmth, the -astonishing progress I had made in the sciences. He soon perceived that -I disliked the subject; but not guessing the real cause, he attributed -my feelings to modesty, and changed the subject from my improvement, to -the science itself, with a desire, as I evidently saw, of drawing me -out. What could I do? He meant to please, and he tormented me. I felt as -if he had placed carefully, one by one, in my view those instruments -which were to be afterwards used in putting me to a slow and cruel -death. I writhed under his words, yet dared not exhibit the pain I felt. -Clerval, whose eyes and feelings were always quick in discerning the -sensations of others, declined the subject, alleging, in excuse, his -total ignorance; and the conversation took a more general turn. I -thanked my friend from my heart, but I did not speak. I saw plainly that -he was surprised, but he never attempted to draw my secret from me; and -although I loved him with a mixture of affection and reverence that knew -no bounds, yet I could never persuade myself to confide to him that -event which was so often present to my recollection, but which I feared -the detail to another would only impress more deeply. - -M. Krempe was not equally docile; and in my condition at that time, of -almost insupportable sensitiveness, his harsh blunt encomiums gave me -even more pain than the benevolent approbation of M. Waldman. "D--n the -fellow!" cried he; "why, M. Clerval, I assure you he has outstript us -all. Ay, stare if you please; but it is nevertheless true. A youngster -who, but a few years ago, believed in Cornelius Agrippa as firmly as in -the gospel, has now set himself at the head of the university; and if he -is not soon pulled down, we shall all be out of countenance.--Ay, ay," -continued he, observing my face expressive of suffering, "M. -Frankenstein is modest; an excellent quality in a young man. Young men -should be diffident of themselves, you know, M. Clerval: I was myself -when young; but that wears out in a very short time." - -M. Krempe had now commenced an eulogy on himself, which happily turned -the conversation from a subject that was so annoying to me. - -Clerval had never sympathised in my tastes for natural science; and his -literary pursuits differed wholly from those which had occupied me. He -came to the university with the design of making himself complete master -of the oriental languages, as thus he should open a field for the plan -of life he had marked out for himself. Resolved to pursue no inglorious -career, he turned his eyes toward the East, as affording scope for his -spirit of enterprise. The Persian, Arabic, and Sanscrit languages -engaged his attention, and I was easily induced to enter on the same -studies. Idleness had ever been irksome to me, and now that I wished to -fly from reflection, and hated my former studies, I felt great relief in -being the fellow-pupil with my friend, and found not only instruction -but consolation in the works of the orientalists. I did not, like him, -attempt a critical knowledge of their dialects, for I did not -contemplate making any other use of them than temporary amusement. I -read merely to understand their meaning, and they well repaid my -labours. Their melancholy is soothing, and their joy elevating, to a -degree I never experienced in studying the authors of any other country. -When you read their writings, life appears to consist in a warm sun and -a garden of roses,--in the smiles and frowns of a fair enemy, and the -fire that consumes your own heart. How different from the manly and -heroical poetry of Greece and Rome! - -Summer passed away in these occupations, and my return to Geneva was -fixed for the latter end of autumn; but being delayed by several -accidents, winter and snow arrived, the roads were deemed impassable, -and my journey was retarded until the ensuing spring. I felt this delay -very bitterly; for I longed to see my native town and my beloved -friends. My return had only been delayed so long, from an unwillingness -to leave Clerval in a strange place, before he had become acquainted -with any of its inhabitants. The winter, however, was spent cheerfully; -and although the spring was uncommonly late, when it came its beauty -compensated for its dilatoriness. - -The month of May had already commenced, and I expected the letter daily -which was to fix the date of my departure, when Henry proposed a -pedestrian tour in the environs of Ingolstadt, that I might bid a -personal farewell to the country I had so long inhabited. I acceded with -pleasure to this proposition: I was fond of exercise, and Clerval had -always been my favourite companion in the rambles of this nature that I -had taken among the scenes of my native country. - -We passed a fortnight in these perambulations: my health and spirits had -long been restored, and they gained additional strength from the -salubrious air I breathed, the natural incidents of our progress, and -the conversation of my friend. Study had before secluded me from the -intercourse of my fellow-creatures, and rendered me unsocial; but -Clerval called forth the better feelings of my heart; he again taught me -to love the aspect of nature, and the cheerful faces of children. -Excellent friend! how sincerely did you love me, and endeavour to -elevate my mind until it was on a level with your own! A selfish pursuit -had cramped and narrowed me, until your gentleness and affection warmed -and opened my senses; I became the same happy creature who, a few years -ago, loved and beloved by all, had no sorrow or care. When happy, -inanimate nature had the power of bestowing on me the most delightful -sensations. A serene sky and verdant fields filled me with ecstasy. The -present season was indeed divine; the flowers of spring bloomed in the -hedges, while those of summer were already in bud. I was undisturbed by -thoughts which during the preceding year had pressed upon me, -notwithstanding my endeavours to throw them off, with an invincible -burden. - -Henry rejoiced in my gaiety, and sincerely sympathised in my feelings: -he exerted himself to amuse me, while he expressed the sensations that -filled his soul. The resources of his mind on this occasion were truly -astonishing: his conversation was full of imagination; and very often, -in imitation of the Persian and Arabic writers, he invented tales of -wonderful fancy and passion. At other times he repeated my favourite -poems, or drew me out into arguments, which he supported with great -ingenuity. - -We returned to our college on a Sunday afternoon: the peasants were -dancing, and every one we met appeared gay and happy. My own spirits -were high, and I bounded along with feelings of unbridled joy and -hilarity. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -On my return, I found the following letter from my father:-- - -"My dear Victor, - -"You have probably waited impatiently for a letter to fix the date of -your return to us; and I was at first tempted to write only a few lines, -merely mentioning the day on which I should expect you. But that would -be a cruel kindness, and I dare not do it. What would be your surprise, -my son, when you expected a happy and glad welcome, to behold, on the -contrary, tears and wretchedness? And how, Victor, can I relate our -misfortune? Absence cannot have rendered you callous to our joys and -griefs; and how shall I inflict pain on my long absent son? I wish to -prepare you for the woful news, but I know it is impossible; even now -your eye skims over the page, to seek the words which are to convey to -you the horrible tidings. - -"William is dead!--that sweet child, whose smiles delighted and warmed -my heart, who was so gentle, yet so gay! Victor, he is murdered! - -"I will not attempt to console you; but will simply relate the -circumstances of the transaction. - -"Last Thursday (May 7th), I, my niece, and your two brothers, went to -walk in Plainpalais. The evening was warm and serene, and we prolonged -our walk farther than usual. It was already dusk before we thought of -returning; and then we discovered that William and Ernest, who had gone -on before, were not to be found. We accordingly rested on a seat until -they should return. Presently Ernest came, and enquired if we had seen -his brother: he said, that he had been playing with him, that William -had run away to hide himself, and that he vainly sought for him, and -afterwards waited for him a long time, but that he did not return. - -"This account rather alarmed us, and we continued to search for him -until night fell, when Elizabeth conjectured that he might have returned -to the house. He was not there. We returned again, with torches; for I -could not rest, when I thought that my sweet boy had lost himself, and -was exposed to all the damps and dews of night; Elizabeth also suffered -extreme anguish. About five in the morning I discovered my lovely boy, -whom the night before I had seen blooming and active in health, -stretched on the grass livid and motionless: the print of the murderer's -finger was on his neck. - -"He was conveyed home, and the anguish that was visible in my -countenance betrayed the secret to Elizabeth. She was very earnest to -see the corpse. At first I attempted to prevent her; but she persisted, -and entering the room where it lay, hastily examined the neck of the -victim, and clasping her hands exclaimed, 'O God! I have murdered my -darling child!' - -"She fainted, and was restored with extreme difficulty. When she again -lived, it was only to weep and sigh. She told me, that that same evening -William had teased her to let him wear a very valuable miniature that -she possessed of your mother. This picture is gone, and was doubtless -the temptation which urged the murderer to the deed. We have no trace -of him at present, although our exertions to discover him are -unremitted; but they will not restore my beloved William! - -"Come, dearest Victor; you alone can console Elizabeth. She weeps -continually, and accuses herself unjustly as the cause of his death; her -words pierce my heart. We are all unhappy; but will not that be an -additional motive for you, my son, to return and be our comforter? Your -dear mother! Alas, Victor! I now say, Thank God she did not live to -witness the cruel, miserable death of her youngest darling! - -"Come, Victor; not brooding thoughts of vengeance against the assassin, -but with feelings of peace and gentleness, that will heal, instead of -festering, the wounds of our minds. Enter the house of mourning, my -friend, but with kindness and affection for those who love you, and not -with hatred for your enemies. - -"Your affectionate and afflicted father, - -"ALPHONSE FRANKENSTEIN. - -"Geneva, May 12th, 17--." - - * * * * * - -Clerval, who had watched my countenance as I read this letter, was -surprised to observe the despair that succeeded to the joy I at first -expressed on receiving news from my friends. I threw the letter on the -table, and covered my face with my hands. - -"My dear Frankenstein," exclaimed Henry, when he perceived me weep with -bitterness, "are you always to be unhappy? My dear friend, what has -happened?" - -I motioned to him to take up the letter, while I walked up and down the -room in the extremest agitation. Tears also gushed from the eyes of -Clerval, as he read the account of my misfortune. - -"I can offer you no consolation, my friend," said he; "your disaster is -irreparable. What do you intend to do?" - -"To go instantly to Geneva: come with me, Henry, to order the horses." - -During our walk, Clerval endeavoured to say a few words of consolation; -he could only express his heart-felt sympathy. "Poor William!" said he, -"dear lovely child, he now sleeps with his angel mother! Who that had -seen him bright and joyous in his young beauty, but must weep over his -untimely loss! To die so miserably; to feel the murderer's grasp! How -much more a murderer, that could destroy such radiant innocence! Poor -little fellow! one only consolation have we; his friends mourn and weep, -but he is at rest. The pang is over, his sufferings are at an end for -ever. A sod covers his gentle form, and he knows no pain. He can no -longer be a subject for pity; we must reserve that for his miserable -survivors." - -Clerval spoke thus as we hurried through the streets; the words -impressed themselves on my mind, and I remembered them afterwards in -solitude. But now, as soon as the horses arrived, I hurried into a -cabriolet, and bade farewell to my friend. - -My journey was very melancholy. At first I wished to hurry on, for I -longed to console and sympathise with my loved and sorrowing friends; -but when I drew near my native town, I slackened my progress. I could -hardly sustain the multitude of feelings that crowded into my mind. I -passed through scenes familiar to my youth, but which I had not seen for -nearly six years. How altered every thing might be during that time! One -sudden and desolating change had taken place; but a thousand little -circumstances might have by degrees worked other alterations, which, -although they were done more tranquilly, might not be the less decisive. -Fear overcame me; I dared not advance, dreading a thousand nameless -evils that made me tremble, although I was unable to define them. - -I remained two days at Lausanne, in this painful state of mind. I -contemplated the lake: the waters were placid; all around was calm; and -the snowy mountains, "the palaces of nature," were not changed. By -degrees the calm and heavenly scene restored me, and I continued my -journey towards Geneva. - -The road ran by the side of the lake, which became narrower as I -approached my native town. I discovered more distinctly the black sides -of Jura, and the bright summit of Mont Blanc. I wept like a child. -"Dear mountains! my own beautiful lake! how do you welcome your -wanderer? Your summits are clear; the sky and lake are blue and placid. -Is this to prognosticate peace, or to mock at my unhappiness?" - -I fear, my friend, that I shall render myself tedious by dwelling on -these preliminary circumstances; but they were days of comparative -happiness, and I think of them with pleasure. My country, my beloved -country! who but a native can tell the delight I took in again beholding -thy streams, thy mountains, and, more than all, thy lovely lake! - -Yet, as I drew nearer home, grief and fear again overcame me. Night also -closed around; and when I could hardly see the dark mountains, I felt -still more gloomily. The picture appeared a vast and dim scene of evil, -and I foresaw obscurely that I was destined to become the most wretched -of human beings. Alas! I prophesied truly, and failed only in one single -circumstance, that in all the misery I imagined and dreaded, I did not -conceive the hundredth part of the anguish I was destined to endure. - -It was completely dark when I arrived in the environs of Geneva; the -gates of the town were already shut; and I was obliged to pass the night -at Secheron, a village at the distance of half a league from the city. -The sky was serene; and, as I was unable to rest, I resolved to visit -the spot where my poor William had been murdered. As I could not pass -through the town, I was obliged to cross the lake in a boat to arrive at -Plainpalais. During this short voyage I saw the lightnings playing on -the summit of Mont Blanc in the most beautiful figures. The storm -appeared to approach rapidly; and, on landing, I ascended a low hill, -that I might observe its progress. It advanced; the heavens were -clouded, and I soon felt the rain coming slowly in large drops, but its -violence quickly increased. - -I quitted my seat, and walked on, although the darkness and storm -increased every minute, and the thunder burst with a terrific crash over -my head. It was echoed from Salêve, the Juras, and the Alps of Savoy; -vivid flashes of lightning dazzled my eyes, illuminating the lake, -making it appear like a vast sheet of fire; then for an instant every -thing seemed of a pitchy darkness, until the eye recovered itself from -the preceding flash. The storm, as is often the case in Switzerland, -appeared at once in various parts of the heavens. The most violent storm -hung exactly north of the town, over that part of the lake which lies -between the promontory of Belrive and the village of Copêt. Another -storm enlightened Jura with faint flashes; and another darkened and -sometimes disclosed the Môle, a peaked mountain to the east of the lake. - -While I watched the tempest, so beautiful yet terrific, I wandered on -with a hasty step. This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I -clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud, "William, dear angel! this is thy -funeral, this thy dirge!" As I said these words, I perceived in the -gloom a figure which stole from behind a clump of trees near me; I stood -fixed, gazing intently: I could not be mistaken. A flash of lightning -illuminated the object, and discovered its shape plainly to me; its -gigantic stature, and the deformity of its aspect, more hideous than -belongs to humanity, instantly informed me that it was the wretch, the -filthy dæmon, to whom I had given life. What did he there? Could he be -(I shuddered at the conception) the murderer of my brother? No sooner -did that idea cross my imagination, than I became convinced of its -truth; my teeth chattered, and I was forced to lean against a tree for -support. The figure passed me quickly, and I lost it in the gloom. -Nothing in human shape could have destroyed that fair child. _He_ was -the murderer! I could not doubt it. The mere presence of the idea was an -irresistible proof of the fact. I thought of pursuing the devil; but it -would have been in vain, for another flash discovered him to me hanging -among the rocks of the nearly perpendicular ascent of Mont Salêve, a -hill that bounds Plainpalais on the south. He soon reached the summit, -and disappeared. - -I remained motionless. The thunder ceased; but the rain still continued, -and the scene was enveloped in an impenetrable darkness. I revolved in -my mind the events which I had until now sought to forget: the whole -train of my progress towards the creation; the appearance of the work of -my own hands alive at my bedside; its departure. Two years had now -nearly elapsed since the night on which he first received life; and was -this his first crime? Alas! I had turned loose into the world a depraved -wretch, whose delight was in carnage and misery; had he not murdered my -brother? - -No one can conceive the anguish I suffered during the remainder of the -night, which I spent, cold and wet, in the open air. But I did not feel -the inconvenience of the weather; my imagination was busy in scenes of -evil and despair. I considered the being whom I had cast among mankind, -and endowed with the will and power to effect purposes of horror, such -as the deed which he had now done, nearly in the light of my own -vampire, my own spirit let loose from the grave, and forced to destroy -all that was dear to me. - -Day dawned; and I directed my steps towards the town. The gates were -open, and I hastened to my father's house. My first thought was to -discover what I knew of the murderer, and cause instant pursuit to be -made. But I paused when I reflected on the story that I had to tell. A -being whom I myself had formed, and endued with life, had met me at -midnight among the precipices of an inaccessible mountain. I remembered -also the nervous fever with which I had been seized just at the time -that I dated my creation, and which would give an air of delirium to a -tale otherwise so utterly improbable. I well knew that if any other had -communicated such a relation to me, I should have looked upon it as the -ravings of insanity. Besides, the strange nature of the animal would -elude all pursuit, even if I were so far credited as to persuade my -relatives to commence it. And then of what use would be pursuit? Who -could arrest a creature capable of scaling the overhanging sides of Mont -Salêve? These reflections determined me, and I resolved to remain -silent. - -It was about five in the morning when I entered my father's house. I -told the servants not to disturb the family, and went into the library -to attend their usual hour of rising. - -Six years had elapsed, passed as a dream but for one indelible trace, -and I stood in the same place where I had last embraced my father before -my departure for Ingolstadt. Beloved and venerable parent! He still -remained to me. I gazed on the picture of my mother, which stood over -the mantel-piece. It was an historical subject, painted at my father's -desire, and represented Caroline Beaufort in an agony of despair, -kneeling by the coffin of her dead father. Her garb was rustic, and her -cheek pale; but there was an air of dignity and beauty, that hardly -permitted the sentiment of pity. Below this picture was a miniature of -William; and my tears flowed when I looked upon it. While I was thus -engaged, Ernest entered: he had heard me arrive, and hastened to welcome -me. He expressed a sorrowful delight to see me: "Welcome, my dearest -Victor," said he. "Ah! I wish you had come three months ago, and then -you would have found us all joyous and delighted. You come to us now to -share a misery which nothing can alleviate; yet your presence will, I -hope, revive our father, who seems sinking under his misfortune; and -your persuasions will induce poor Elizabeth to cease her vain and -tormenting self-accusations.--Poor William! he was our darling and our -pride!" - -Tears, unrestrained, fell from my brother's eyes; a sense of mortal -agony crept over my frame. Before, I had only imagined the wretchedness -of my desolated home; the reality came on me as a new, and a not less -terrible, disaster. I tried to calm Ernest; I enquired more minutely -concerning my father, and her I named my cousin. - -"She most of all," said Ernest, "requires consolation; she accused -herself of having caused the death of my brother, and that made her very -wretched. But since the murderer has been discovered--" - -"The murderer discovered! Good God! how can that be? who could attempt -to pursue him? It is impossible; one might as well try to overtake the -winds, or confine a mountain-stream with a straw. I saw him too; he was -free last night!" - -"I do not know what you mean," replied my brother, in accents of wonder, -"but to us the discovery we have made completes our misery. No one would -believe it at first; and even now Elizabeth will not be convinced, -notwithstanding all the evidence. Indeed, who would credit that Justine -Moritz, who was so amiable, and fond of all the family, could suddenly -become capable of so frightful, so appalling a crime?" - -"Justine Moritz! Poor, poor girl, is she the accused? But it is -wrongfully; every one knows that; no one believes it, surely, Ernest?" - -"No one did at first; but several circumstances came out, that have -almost forced conviction upon us; and her own behaviour has been so -confused, as to add to the evidence of facts a weight that, I fear, -leaves no hope for doubt. But she will be tried to-day, and you will -then hear all." - -He related that, the morning on which the murder of poor William had -been discovered, Justine had been taken ill, and confined to her bed for -several days. During this interval, one of the servants, happening to -examine the apparel she had worn on the night of the murder, had -discovered in her pocket the picture of my mother, which had been judged -to be the temptation of the murderer. The servant instantly showed it to -one of the others, who, without saying a word to any of the family, went -to a magistrate; and, upon their deposition, Justine was apprehended. On -being charged with the fact, the poor girl confirmed the suspicion in a -great measure by her extreme confusion of manner. - -This was a strange tale, but it did not shake my faith; and I replied -earnestly, "You are all mistaken; I know the murderer. Justine, poor, -good Justine, is innocent." - -At that instant my father entered. I saw unhappiness deeply impressed on -his countenance, but he endeavoured to welcome me cheerfully; and, after -we had exchanged our mournful greeting, would have introduced some other -topic than that of our disaster, had not Ernest exclaimed, "Good God, -papa! Victor says that he knows who was the murderer of poor William." - -"We do also, unfortunately," replied my father; "for indeed I had rather -have been for ever ignorant than have discovered so much depravity and -ingratitude in one I valued so highly." - -"My dear father, you are mistaken; Justine is innocent." - -"If she is, God forbid that she should suffer as guilty. She is to be -tried to-day, and I hope, I sincerely hope, that she will be acquitted." - -This speech calmed me. I was firmly convinced in my own mind that -Justine, and indeed every human being, was guiltless of this murder. I -had no fear, therefore, that any circumstantial evidence could be -brought forward strong enough to convict her. My tale was not one to -announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as madness -by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the creator, who -would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the existence of the -living monument of presumption and rash ignorance which I had let loose -upon the world? - -We were soon joined by Elizabeth. Time had altered her since I last -beheld her; it had endowed her with loveliness surpassing the beauty of -her childish years. There was the same candour, the same vivacity, but -it was allied to an expression more full of sensibility and intellect. -She welcomed me with the greatest affection. "Your arrival, my dear -cousin," said she, "fills me with hope. You perhaps will find some means -to justify my poor guiltless Justine. Alas! who is safe, if she be -convicted of crime? I rely on her innocence as certainly as I do upon my -own. Our misfortune is doubly hard to us; we have not only lost that -lovely darling boy, but this poor girl, whom I sincerely love, is to be -torn away by even a worse fate. If she is condemned, I never shall know -joy more. But she will not, I am sure she will not; and then I shall be -happy again, even after the sad death of my little William." - -"She is innocent, my Elizabeth," said I, "and that shall be proved; fear -nothing, but let your spirits be cheered by the assurance of her -acquittal." - -"How kind and generous you are! every one else believes in her guilt, -and that made me wretched, for I knew that it was impossible: and to see -every one else prejudiced in so deadly a manner rendered me hopeless and -despairing." She wept. - -"Dearest niece," said my father, "dry your tears. If she is, as you -believe, innocent, rely on the justice of our laws, and the activity -with which I shall prevent the slightest shadow of partiality." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -We passed a few sad hours, until eleven o'clock, when the trial was to -commence. My father and the rest of the family being obliged to attend -as witnesses, I accompanied them to the court. During the whole of this -wretched mockery of justice I suffered living torture. It was to be -decided, whether the result of my curiosity and lawless devices would -cause the death of two of my fellow-beings: one a smiling babe, full of -innocence and joy; the other far more dreadfully murdered, with every -aggravation of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror. -Justine also was a girl of merit, and possessed qualities which promised -to render her life happy: now all was to be obliterated in an -ignominious grave; and I the cause! A thousand times rather would I have -confessed myself guilty of the crime ascribed to Justine; but I was -absent when it was committed, and such a declaration would have been -considered as the ravings of a madman, and would not have exculpated her -who suffered through me. - -The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning; and her -countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of her -feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident in -innocence, and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated by -thousands; for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise have -excited, was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by the -imagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She was -tranquil, yet her tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as her -confusion had before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she worked up -her mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the court, she -threw her eyes round it, and quickly discovered where we were seated. A -tear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us; but she quickly recovered -herself, and a look of sorrowful affection seemed to attest her utter -guiltlessness. - -The trial began; and, after the advocate against her had stated the -charge, several witnesses were called. Several strange facts combined -against her, which might have staggered any one who had not such proof -of her innocence as I had. She had been out the whole of the night on -which the murder had been committed, and towards morning had been -perceived by a market-woman not far from the spot where the body of the -murdered child had been afterwards found. The woman asked her what she -did there; but she looked very strangely, and only returned a confused -and unintelligible answer. She returned to the house about eight -o'clock; and, when one enquired where she had passed the night, she -replied that she had been looking for the child, and demanded earnestly -if any thing had been heard concerning him. When shown the body, she -fell into violent hysterics, and kept her bed for several days. The -picture was then produced, which the servant had found in her pocket; -and when Elizabeth, in a faltering voice, proved that it was the same -which, an hour before the child had been missed, she had placed round -his neck, a murmur of horror and indignation filled the court. - -Justine was called on for her defence. As the trial had proceeded, her -countenance had altered. Surprise, horror, and misery were strongly -expressed. Sometimes she struggled with her tears; but, when she was -desired to plead, she collected her powers, and spoke, in an audible, -although variable voice. - -"God knows," she said, "how entirely I am innocent. But I do not pretend -that my protestations should acquit me: I rest my innocence on a plain -and simple explanation of the facts which have been adduced against me; -and I hope the character I have always borne will incline my judges to a -favourable interpretation, where any circumstance appears doubtful or -suspicious." - -She then related that, by the permission of Elizabeth, she had passed -the evening of the night on which the murder had been committed at the -house of an aunt at Chêne, a village situated at about a league from -Geneva. On her return, at about nine o'clock, she met a man, who asked -her if she had seen any thing of the child who was lost. She was alarmed -by this account, and passed several hours in looking for him, when the -gates of Geneva were shut, and she was forced to remain several hours of -the night in a barn belonging to a cottage, being unwilling to call up -the inhabitants, to whom she was well known. Most of the night she spent -here watching; towards morning she believed that she slept for a few -minutes; some steps disturbed her, and she awoke. It was dawn, and she -quitted her asylum, that she might again endeavour to find my brother. -If she had gone near the spot where his body lay, it was without her -knowledge. That she had been bewildered when questioned by the -market-woman was not surprising, since she had passed a sleepless night, -and the fate of poor William was yet uncertain. Concerning the picture -she could give no account. - -"I know," continued the unhappy victim, "how heavily and fatally this -one circumstance weighs against me, but I have no power of explaining -it; and when I have expressed my utter ignorance, I am only left to -conjecture concerning the probabilities by which it might have been -placed in my pocket. But here also I am checked. I believe that I have -no enemy on earth, and none surely would have been so wicked as to -destroy me wantonly. Did the murderer place it there? I know of no -opportunity afforded him for so doing; or, if I had, why should he have -stolen the jewel, to part with it again so soon? - -"I commit my cause to the justice of my judges, yet I see no room for -hope. I beg permission to have a few witnesses examined concerning my -character; and if their testimony shall not overweigh my supposed guilt, -I must be condemned, although I would pledge my salvation on my -innocence." - -Several witnesses were called, who had known her for many years, and -they spoke well of her; but fear, and hatred of the crime of which they -supposed her guilty, rendered them timorous, and unwilling to come -forward. Elizabeth saw even this last resource, her excellent -dispositions and irreproachable conduct, about to fail the accused, -when, although violently agitated, she desired permission to address the -court. - -"I am," said she, "the cousin of the unhappy child who was murdered, or -rather his sister, for I was educated by, and have lived with his -parents ever since and even long before, his birth. It may therefore be -judged indecent in me to come forward on this occasion; but when I see a -fellow-creature about to perish through the cowardice of her pretended -friends, I wish to be allowed to speak, that I may say what I know of -her character. I am well acquainted with the accused. I have lived in -the same house with her, at one time for five, and at another for nearly -two years. During all that period she appeared to me the most amiable -and benevolent of human creatures. She nursed Madame Frankenstein, my -aunt, in her last illness, with the greatest affection and care; and -afterwards attended her own mother during a tedious illness, in a manner -that excited the admiration of all who knew her; after which she again -lived in my uncle's house, where she was beloved by all the family. She -was warmly attached to the child who is now dead, and acted towards him -like a most affectionate mother. For my own part, I do not hesitate to -say, that, notwithstanding all the evidence produced against her, I -believe and rely on her perfect innocence. She had no temptation for -such an action: as to the bauble on which the chief proof rests, if she -had earnestly desired it, I should have willingly given it to her; so -much do I esteem and value her." - -A murmur of approbation followed Elizabeth's simple and powerful appeal; -but it was excited by her generous interference, and not in favour of -poor Justine, on whom the public indignation was turned with renewed -violence, charging her with the blackest ingratitude. She herself wept -as Elizabeth spoke, but she did not answer. My own agitation and anguish -was extreme during the whole trial. I believed in her innocence; I knew -it. Could the dæmon, who had (I did not for a minute doubt) murdered my -brother, also in his hellish sport have betrayed the innocent to death -and ignominy? I could not sustain the horror of my situation; and when I -perceived that the popular voice, and the countenances of the judges, -had already condemned my unhappy victim, I rushed out of the court in -agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained -by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom, and would not -forego their hold. - -I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to the -court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatal -question; but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of my -visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all black, and Justine was -condemned. - -I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before experienced -sensations of horror; and I have endeavoured to bestow upon them -adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of the -heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom I -addressed myself added, that Justine had already confessed her guilt. -"That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a case, -but I am glad of it; and, indeed, none of our judges like to condemn a -criminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so decisive." - -This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had my -eyes deceived me? and was I really as mad as the whole world would -believe me to be, if I disclosed the object of my suspicions? I hastened -to return home, and Elizabeth eagerly demanded the result. - -"My cousin," replied I, "it is decided as you may have expected; all -judges had rather that ten innocent should suffer, than that one guilty -should escape. But she has confessed." - -This was a dire blow to poor Elizabeth, who had relied with firmness -upon Justine's innocence. "Alas!" said she, "how shall I ever again -believe in human goodness? Justine, whom I loved and esteemed as my -sister, how could she put on those smiles of innocence only to betray? -her mild eyes seemed incapable of any severity or guile, and yet she has -committed a murder." - -Soon after we heard that the poor victim had expressed a desire to see -my cousin. My father wished her not to go; but said, that he left it to -her own judgment and feelings to decide. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "I will -go, although she is guilty; and you, Victor, shall accompany me: I -cannot go alone." The idea of this visit was torture to me, yet I could -not refuse. - -We entered the gloomy prison-chamber, and beheld Justine sitting on some -straw at the farther end; her hands were manacled, and her head rested -on her knees. She rose on seeing us enter; and when we were left alone -with her, she threw herself at the feet of Elizabeth, weeping bitterly. -My cousin wept also. - -"Oh, Justine!" said she, "why did you rob me of my last consolation? I -relied on your innocence; and although I was then very wretched, I was -not so miserable as I am now." - -"And do you also believe that I am so very, very wicked? Do you also -join with my enemies to crush me, to condemn me as a murderer?" Her -voice was suffocated with sobs. - -"Rise, my poor girl," said Elizabeth, "why do you kneel, if you are -innocent? I am not one of your enemies; I believed you guiltless, -notwithstanding every evidence, until I heard that you had yourself -declared your guilt. That report, you say, is false; and be assured, -dear Justine, that nothing can shake my confidence in you for a moment, -but your own confession." - -"I did confess; but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might obtain -absolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than all my -other sins. The God of heaven forgive me! Ever since I was condemned, my -confessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, until I almost -began to think that I was the monster that he said I was. He threatened -excommunication and hell fire in my last moments, if I continued -obdurate. Dear lady, I had none to support me; all looked on me as a -wretch doomed to ignominy and perdition. What could I do? In an evil -hour I subscribed to a lie; and now only am I truly miserable." - -She paused, weeping, and then continued--"I thought with horror, my -sweet lady, that you should believe your Justine, whom your blessed aunt -had so highly honoured, and whom you loved, was a creature capable of a -crime which none but the devil himself could have perpetrated. Dear -William! dearest blessed child! I soon shall see you again in heaven, -where we shall all be happy; and that consoles me, going as I am to -suffer ignominy and death." - -"Oh, Justine! forgive me for having for one moment distrusted you. Why -did you confess? But do not mourn, dear girl. Do not fear. I will -proclaim, I will prove your innocence. I will melt the stony hearts of -your enemies by my tears and prayers. You shall not die!--You, my -play-fellow, my companion, my sister, perish on the scaffold! No! no! I -never could survive so horrible a misfortune." - -Justine shook her head mournfully. "I do now not fear to die," she said; -"that pang is past. God raises my weakness, and gives me courage to -endure the worst. I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you remember -me, and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to the -fate awaiting me. Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to the -will of Heaven!" - -During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison-room, -where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! Who -dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the -awful boundary between life and death, felt not as I did, such deep and -bitter agony. I gnashed my teeth, and ground them together, uttering a -groan that came from my inmost soul. Justine started. When she saw who -it was, she approached me, and said, "Dear sir, you are very kind to -visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?" - -I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more convinced -of your innocence than I was; for even when he heard that you had -confessed, he did not credit it." - -"I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest gratitude -towards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is the affection -of others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than half my -misfortune; and I feel as if I could die in peace, now that my innocence -is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin." - -Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeed -gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt the -never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or -consolation. Elizabeth also wept, and was unhappy; but her's also was -the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair -moon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and -despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within -me, which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours with -Justine; and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear -herself away. "I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; I -cannot live in this world of misery." - -Justine assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficulty -repressed her bitter tears. She embraced Elizabeth, and said, in a voice -of half-suppressed emotion, "Farewell, sweet lady, dearest Elizabeth, my -beloved and only friend; may Heaven, in its bounty, bless and preserve -you; may this be the last misfortune that you will ever suffer! Live, -and be happy, and make others so." - -And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquence -failed to move the judges from their settled conviction in the -criminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant appeals -were lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers, and heard -the harsh unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed avowal died away -on my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, but not revoke the -sentence passed upon my wretched victim. She perished on the scaffold as -a murderess! - -From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep and -voiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my father's -woe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home--all was the work -of my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones; but these are not -your last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and the sound -of your lamentations shall again and again be heard! Frankenstein, your -son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he who would spend -each vital drop of blood for your sakes--who has no thought nor sense of -joy, except as it is mirrored also in your dear countenances--who would -fill the air with blessings, and spend his life in serving you--he bids -you weep--to shed countless tears; happy beyond his hopes, if thus -inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction pause before the -peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad torments! - -Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair, -I beheld those I loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William and -Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -Nothing is more painful to the human mind, than, after the feelings have -been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of -inaction and certainty which follows, and deprives the soul both of hope -and fear. Justine died; she rested; and I was alive. The blood flowed -freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my -heart, which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered -like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond -description horrible, and more, much more (I persuaded myself), was yet -behind. Yet my heart overflowed with kindness, and the love of virtue. I -had begun life with benevolent intentions, and thirsted for the moment -when I should put them in practice, and make myself useful to my -fellow-beings. Now all was blasted: instead of that serenity of -conscience, which allowed me to look back upon the past with -self-satisfaction, and from thence to gather promise of new hopes, I was -seized by remorse and the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a -hell of intense tortures, such as no language can describe. - -This state of mind preyed upon my health, which had perhaps never -entirely recovered from the first shock it had sustained. I shunned the -face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; solitude -was my only consolation--deep, dark, deathlike solitude. - -My father observed with pain the alteration perceptible in my -disposition and habits, and endeavoured by arguments deduced from the -feelings of his serene conscience and guiltless life, to inspire me with -fortitude, and awaken in me the courage to dispel the dark cloud which -brooded over me. "Do you think, Victor," said he, "that I do not suffer -also? No one could love a child more than I loved your brother;" (tears -came into his eyes as he spoke;) "but is it not a duty to the survivors, -that we should refrain from augmenting their unhappiness by an -appearance of immoderate grief? It is also a duty owed to yourself; for -excessive sorrow prevents improvement or enjoyment, or even the -discharge of daily usefulness, without which no man is fit for society." - -This advice, although good, was totally inapplicable to my case; I -should have been the first to hide my grief, and console my friends, if -remorse had not mingled its bitterness, and terror its alarm with my -other sensations. Now I could only answer my father with a look of -despair, and endeavour to hide myself from his view. - -About this time we retired to our house at Belrive. This change was -particularly agreeable to me. The shutting of the gates regularly at ten -o'clock, and the impossibility of remaining on the lake after that hour, -had rendered our residence within the walls of Geneva very irksome to -me. I was now free. Often, after the rest of the family had retired for -the night, I took the boat, and passed many hours upon the water. -Sometimes, with my sails set, I was carried by the wind; and sometimes, -after rowing into the middle of the lake, I left the boat to pursue its -own course, and gave way to my own miserable reflections. I was often -tempted, when all was at peace around me, and I the only unquiet thing -that wandered restless in a scene so beautiful and heavenly--if I except -some bat, or the frogs, whose harsh and interrupted croaking was heard -only when I approached the shore--often, I say, I was tempted to plunge -into the silent lake, that the waters might close over me and my -calamities for ever. But I was restrained, when I thought of the heroic -and suffering Elizabeth, whom I tenderly loved, and whose existence was -bound up in mine. I thought also of my father, and surviving brother: -should I by my base desertion leave them exposed and unprotected to the -malice of the fiend whom I had let loose among them? - -At these moments I wept bitterly, and wished that peace would revisit my -mind only that I might afford them consolation and happiness. But that -could not be. Remorse extinguished every hope. I had been the author of -unalterable evils; and I lived in daily fear, lest the monster whom I -had created should perpetrate some new wickedness. I had an obscure -feeling that all was not over, and that he would still commit some -signal crime, which by its enormity should almost efface the -recollection of the past. There was always scope for fear, so long as -any thing I loved remained behind. My abhorrence of this fiend cannot be -conceived. When I thought of him, I gnashed my teeth, my eyes became -inflamed, and I ardently wished to extinguish that life which I had so -thoughtlessly bestowed. When I reflected on his crimes and malice, my -hatred and revenge burst all bounds of moderation. I would have made a -pilgrimage to the highest peak of the Andes, could I, when there, have -precipitated him to their base. I wished to see him again, that I might -wreak the utmost extent of abhorrence on his head, and avenge the deaths -of William and Justine. - -Our house was the house of mourning. My father's health was deeply -shaken by the horror of the recent events. Elizabeth was sad and -desponding; she no longer took delight in her ordinary occupations; all -pleasure seemed to her sacrilege toward the dead; eternal woe and tears -she then thought was the just tribute she should pay to innocence so -blasted and destroyed. She was no longer that happy creature, who in -earlier youth wandered with me on the banks of the lake, and talked with -ecstasy of our future prospects. The first of those sorrows which are -sent to wean us from the earth, had visited her, and its dimming -influence quenched her dearest smiles. - -"When I reflect, my dear cousin," said she, "on the miserable death of -Justine Moritz, I no longer see the world and its works as they before -appeared to me. Before, I looked upon the accounts of vice and -injustice, that I read in books or heard from others, as tales of -ancient days, or imaginary evils; at least they were remote, and more -familiar to reason than to the imagination; but now misery has come -home, and men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other's blood. -Yet I am certainly unjust. Every body believed that poor girl to be -guilty; and if she could have committed the crime for which she -suffered, assuredly she would have been the most depraved of human -creatures. For the sake of a few jewels, to have murdered the son of her -benefactor and friend, a child whom she had nursed from its birth, and -appeared to love as if it had been her own! I could not consent to the -death of any human being; but certainly I should have thought such a -creature unfit to remain in the society of men. But she was innocent. I -know, I feel she was innocent; you are of the same opinion, and that -confirms me. Alas! Victor, when falsehood can look so like the truth, -who can assure themselves of certain happiness? I feel as if I were -walking on the edge of a precipice, towards which thousands are -crowding, and endeavouring to plunge me into the abyss. William and -Justine were assassinated, and the murderer escapes; he walks about the -world free, and perhaps respected. But even if I were condemned to -suffer on the scaffold for the same crimes, I would not change places -with such a wretch." - -I listened to this discourse with the extremest agony. I, not in deed, -but in effect, was the true murderer. Elizabeth read my anguish in my -countenance, and kindly taking my hand, said, "My dearest friend, you -must calm yourself. These events have affected me, God knows how deeply; -but I am not so wretched as you are. There is an expression of despair, -and sometimes of revenge, in your countenance, that makes me tremble. -Dear Victor, banish these dark passions. Remember the friends around -you, who centre all their hopes in you. Have we lost the power of -rendering you happy? Ah! while we love--while we are true to each other, -here in this land of peace and beauty, your native country, we may reap -every tranquil blessing,--what can disturb our peace?" - -And could not such words from her whom I fondly prized before every -other gift of fortune, suffice to chase away the fiend that lurked in my -heart? Even as she spoke I drew near to her, as if in terror; lest at -that very moment the destroyer had been near to rob me of her. - -Thus not the tenderness of friendship, nor the beauty of earth, nor of -heaven, could redeem my soul from woe: the very accents of love were -ineffectual. I was encompassed by a cloud which no beneficial influence -could penetrate. The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some -untrodden brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had pierced it, and -to die--was but a type of me. - -Sometimes I could cope with the sullen despair that overwhelmed me: but -sometimes the whirlwind passions of my soul drove me to seek, by bodily -exercise and by change of place, some relief from my intolerable -sensations. It was during an access of this kind that I suddenly left my -home, and bending my steps towards the near Alpine valleys, sought in -the magnificence, the eternity of such scenes, to forget myself and my -ephemeral, because human, sorrows. My wanderings were directed towards -the valley of Chamounix. I had visited it frequently during my boyhood. -Six years had passed since then: _I_ was a wreck--but nought had changed -in those savage and enduring scenes. - -I performed the first part of my journey on horseback. I afterwards -hired a mule, as the more sure-footed, and least liable to receive -injury on these rugged roads. The weather was fine: it was about the -middle of the month of August, nearly two months after the death of -Justine; that miserable epoch from which I dated all my woe. The weight -upon my spirit was sensibly lightened as I plunged yet deeper in the -ravine of Arve. The immense mountains and precipices that overhung me on -every side--the sound of the river raging among the rocks, and the -dashing of the waterfalls around, spoke of a power mighty as -Omnipotence--and I ceased to fear, or to bend before any being less -almighty than that which had created and ruled the elements, here -displayed in their most terrific guise. Still, as I ascended higher, the -valley assumed a more magnificent and astonishing character. Ruined -castles hanging on the precipices of piny mountains; the impetuous -Arve, and cottages every here and there peeping forth from among the -trees, formed a scene of singular beauty. But it was augmented and -rendered sublime by the mighty Alps, whose white and shining pyramids -and domes towered above all, as belonging to another earth, the -habitations of another race of beings. - -I passed the bridge of Pélissier, where the ravine, which the river -forms, opened before me, and I began to ascend the mountain that -overhangs it. Soon after I entered the valley of Chamounix. This valley -is more wonderful and sublime, but not so beautiful and picturesque, as -that of Servox, through which I had just passed. The high and snowy -mountains were its immediate boundaries; but I saw no more ruined -castles and fertile fields. Immense glaciers approached the road; I -heard the rumbling thunder of the falling avalanche, and marked the -smoke of its passage. Mont Blanc, the supreme and magnificent Mont -Blanc, raised itself from the surrounding _aiguilles_, and its -tremendous _dôme_ overlooked the valley. - -A tingling long-lost sense of pleasure often came across me during this -journey. Some turn in the road, some new object suddenly perceived and -recognised, reminded me of days gone by, and were associated with the -light-hearted gaiety of boyhood. The very winds whispered in soothing -accents, and maternal nature bade me weep no more. Then again the kindly -influence ceased to act--I found myself fettered again to grief, and -indulging in all the misery of reflection. Then I spurred on my animal, -striving so to forget the world, my fears, and, more than all, -myself--or, in a more desperate fashion, I alighted, and threw myself on -the grass, weighed down by horror and despair. - -At length I arrived at the village of Chamounix. Exhaustion succeeded to -the extreme fatigue both of body and of mind which I had endured. For a -short space of time I remained at the window, watching the pallid -lightnings that played above Mont Blanc, and listening to the rushing of -the Arve, which pursued its noisy way beneath. The same lulling sounds -acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations: when I placed my head upon -my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came, and blest the -giver of oblivion. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -I spent the following day roaming through the valley. I stood beside the -sources of the Arveiron, which take their rise in a glacier, that with -slow pace is advancing down from the summit of the hills, to barricade -the valley. The abrupt sides of vast mountains were before me; the icy -wall of the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were scattered -around; and the solemn silence of this glorious presence-chamber of -imperial Nature was broken only by the brawling waves, or the fall of -some vast fragment, the thunder sound of the avalanche, or the cracking, -reverberated along the mountains of the accumulated ice, which, through -the silent working of immutable laws, was ever and anon rent and torn, -as if it had been but a plaything in their hands. These sublime and -magnificent scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was -capable of receiving. They elevated me from all littleness of feeling; -and although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and -tranquillised it. In some degree, also, they diverted my mind from the -thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month. I retired to rest -at night; my slumbers, as it were, waited on and ministered to by the -assemblance of grand shapes which I had contemplated during the day. -They congregated round me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the -glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, and ragged bare ravine; the eagle, -soaring amidst the clouds--they all gathered round me, and bade me be at -peace. - -Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of -soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every -thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the -summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those -mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil, and seek them -in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to me? My mule was -brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of -Montanvert. I remembered the effect that the view of the tremendous and -ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It -had then filled me with a sublime ecstasy, that gave wings to the soul, -and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. The -sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect -of solemnising my mind, and causing me to forget the passing cares of -life. I determined to go without a guide, for I was well acquainted with -the path, and the presence of another would destroy the solitary -grandeur of the scene. - -The ascent is precipitous, but the path is cut into continual and short -windings, which enable you to surmount the perpendicularity of the -mountain. It is a scene terrifically desolate. In a thousand spots the -traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie broken -and strewed on the ground; some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning -upon the jutting rocks of the mountain, or transversely upon other -trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of -snow, down which stones continually roll from above; one of them is -particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as even speaking in -a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw -destruction upon the head of the speaker. The pines are not tall or -luxuriant, but they are sombre, and add an air of severity to the scene. -I looked on the valley beneath; vast mists were rising from the rivers -which ran through it, and curling in thick wreaths around the opposite -mountains, whose summits were hid in the uniform clouds, while rain -poured from the dark sky, and added to the melancholy impression I -received from the objects around me. Alas! why does man boast of -sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders -them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, -thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by -every wind that blows, and a chance word or scene that that word may -convey to us. - - We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep. - We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day. - We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep, - Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away; - It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow, - The path of its departure still is free. - Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; - Nought may endure but mutability! - -It was nearly noon when I arrived at the top of the ascent. For some -time I sat upon the rock that overlooks the sea of ice. A mist covered -both that and the surrounding mountains. Presently a breeze dissipated -the cloud, and I descended upon the glacier. The surface is very uneven, -rising like the waves of a troubled sea, descending low, and -interspersed by rifts that sink deep. The field of ice is almost a -league in width, but I spent nearly two hours in crossing it. The -opposite mountain is a bare perpendicular rock. From the side where I -now stood Montanvert was exactly opposite, at the distance of a league; -and above it rose Mont Blanc, in awful majesty. I remained in a recess -of the rock, gazing on this wonderful and stupendous scene. The sea, or -rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains, whose -aerial summits hung over its recesses. Their icy and glittering peaks -shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart, which was before -sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy; I exclaimed--"Wandering -spirits, if indeed ye wander, and do not rest in your narrow beds, allow -me this faint happiness, or take me, as your companion, away from the -joys of life." - -As I said this, I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance, -advancing towards me with superhuman speed. He bounded over the crevices -in the ice, among which I had walked with caution; his stature, also, as -he approached, seemed to exceed that of man. I was troubled: a mist came -over my eyes, and I felt a faintness seize me; but I was quickly -restored by the cold gale of the mountains. I perceived, as the shape -came nearer (sight tremendous and abhorred!) that it was the wretch -whom I had created. I trembled with rage and horror, resolving to wait -his approach, and then close with him in mortal combat. He approached; -his countenance bespoke bitter anguish, combined with disdain and -malignity, while its unearthly ugliness rendered it almost too horrible -for human eyes. But I scarcely observed this; rage and hatred had at -first deprived me of utterance, and I recovered only to overwhelm him -with words expressive of furious detestation and contempt. - -"Devil," I exclaimed, "do you dare approach me? and do not you fear the -fierce vengeance of my arm wreaked on your miserable head? Begone, vile -insect! or rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust! and, oh! that I -could, with the extinction of your miserable existence, restore those -victims whom you have so diabolically murdered!" - -"I expected this reception," said the dæmon. "All men hate the wretched; -how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! -Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art -bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You -purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty -towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind. If -you will comply with my conditions, I will leave them and you at peace; -but if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death, until it be satiated -with the blood of your remaining friends." - -"Abhorred monster! fiend that thou art! the tortures of hell are too -mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil! you reproach me with -your creation; come on, then, that I may extinguish the spark which I so -negligently bestowed." - -My rage was without bounds; I sprang on him, impelled by all the -feelings which can arm one being against the existence of another. - -He easily eluded me, and said-- - -"Be calm! I entreat you to hear me, before you give vent to your hatred -on my devoted head. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to -increase my misery? Life, although it may only be an accumulation of -anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made -me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine; my joints -more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to -thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my -natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which -thou owest me. Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every other, and -trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and -affection, is most due. Remember, that I am thy creature; I ought to be -thy Adam; but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy -for no misdeed. Every where I see bliss, from which I alone am -irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. -Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous." - -"Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and -me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, in -which one must fall." - -"How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable -eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe -me, Frankenstein: I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and -humanity: but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor -me; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me -nothing? They spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary -glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of -ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one -which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they are kinder -to me than your fellow-beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my -existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my -destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no -terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my -wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them -from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great, that not -only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up -in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not -disdain me. Listen to my tale: when you have heard that, abandon or -commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The -guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their -own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You -accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, -destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I -ask you not to spare me: listen to me; and then, if you can, and if you -will, destroy the work of your hands." - -"Why do you call to my remembrance," I rejoined, "circumstances, of -which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable origin and -author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light! -Cursed (although I curse myself) be the hands that formed you! You have -made me wretched beyond expression. You have left me no power to -consider whether I am just to you, or not. Begone! relieve me from the -sight of your detested form." - -"Thus I relieve thee, my creator," he said, and placed his hated hands -before my eyes, which I flung from me with violence; "thus I take from -thee a sight which you abhor. Still thou canst listen to me, and grant -me thy compassion. By the virtues that I once possessed, I demand this -from you. Hear my tale; it is long and strange, and the temperature of -this place is not fitting to your fine sensations; come to the hut upon -the mountain. The sun is yet high in the heavens; before it descends to -hide itself behind yon snowy precipices, and illuminate another world, -you will have heard my story, and can decide. On you it rests, whether I -quit for ever the neighbourhood of man, and lead a harmless life, or -become the scourge of your fellow-creatures, and the author of your own -speedy ruin." - -As he said this, he led the way across the ice: I followed. My heart was -full, and I did not answer him; but, as I proceeded, I weighed the -various arguments that he had used, and determined at least to listen to -his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity, and compassion confirmed my -resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my -brother, and I eagerly sought a confirmation or denial of this opinion. -For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards -his creature were, and that I ought to render him happy before I -complained of his wickedness. These motives urged me to comply with his -demand. We crossed the ice, therefore, and ascended the opposite rock. -The air was cold, and the rain again began to descend: we entered the -hut, the fiend with an air of exultation, I with a heavy heart, and -depressed spirits. But I consented to listen; and, seating myself by the -fire which my odious companion had lighted, he thus began his tale. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -"It is with considerable difficulty that I remember the original era of -my being: all the events of that period appear confused and indistinct. -A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, -and smelt, at the same time; and it was, indeed, a long time before I -learned to distinguish between the operations of my various senses. By -degrees, I remember, a stronger light pressed upon my nerves, so that I -was obliged to shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me, and troubled -me; but hardly had I felt this, when, by opening my eyes, as I now -suppose, the light poured in upon me again. I walked, and, I believe, -descended; but I presently found a great alteration in my sensations. -Before, dark and opaque bodies had surrounded me, impervious to my touch -or sight; but I now found that I could wander on at liberty, with no -obstacles which I could not either surmount or avoid. The light became -more and more oppressive to me; and, the heat wearying me as I walked, I -sought a place where I could receive shade. This was the forest near -Ingolstadt; and here I lay by the side of a brook resting from my -fatigue, until I felt tormented by hunger and thirst. This roused me -from my nearly dormant state, and I ate some berries which I found -hanging on the trees, or lying on the ground. I slaked my thirst at the -brook; and then lying down, was overcome by sleep. - -"It was dark when I awoke; I felt cold also, and half-frightened, as it -were instinctively, finding myself so desolate. Before I had quitted -your apartment, on a sensation of cold, I had covered myself with some -clothes; but these were insufficient to secure me from the dews of -night. I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch; I knew, and could -distinguish, nothing; but feeling pain invade me on all sides, I sat -down and wept. - -"Soon a gentle light stole over the heavens, and gave me a sensation of -pleasure. I started up, and beheld a radiant form rise from among the -trees.[2] I gazed with a kind of wonder. It moved slowly, but it -enlightened my path; and I again went out in search of berries. I was -still cold, when under one of the trees I found a huge cloak, with which -I covered myself, and sat down upon the ground. No distinct ideas -occupied my mind; all was confused. I felt light, and hunger, and -thirst, and darkness; innumerable sounds rung in my ears, and on all -sides various scents saluted me: the only object that I could -distinguish was the bright moon, and I fixed my eyes on that with -pleasure. - -[Footnote 2: The moon.] - -"Several changes of day and night passed, and the orb of night had -greatly lessened, when I began to distinguish my sensations from each -other. I gradually saw plainly the clear stream that supplied me with -drink, and the trees that shaded me with their foliage. I was delighted -when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my -ears, proceeded from the throats of the little winged animals who had -often intercepted the light from my eyes. I began also to observe, with -greater accuracy, the forms that surrounded me, and to perceive the -boundaries of the radiant roof of light which canopied me. Sometimes I -tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds, but was unable. -Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the -uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into -silence again. - -"The moon had disappeared from the night, and again, with a lessened -form, showed itself, while I still remained in the forest. My sensations -had, by this time, become distinct, and my mind received every day -additional ideas. My eyes became accustomed to the light, and to -perceive objects in their right forms; I distinguished the insect from -the herb, and, by degrees, one herb from another. I found that the -sparrow uttered none but harsh notes, whilst those of the blackbird and -thrush were sweet and enticing. - -"One day, when I was oppressed by cold, I found a fire which had been -left by some wandering beggars, and was overcome with delight at the -warmth I experienced from it. In my joy I thrust my hand into the live -embers, but quickly drew it out again with a cry of pain. How strange, I -thought, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects! I -examined the materials of the fire, and to my joy found it to be -composed of wood. I quickly collected some branches; but they were wet, -and would not burn. I was pained at this, and sat still watching the -operation of the fire. The wet wood which I had placed near the heat -dried, and itself became inflamed. I reflected on this; and, by touching -the various branches, I discovered the cause, and busied myself in -collecting a great quantity of wood, that I might dry it, and have a -plentiful supply of fire. When night came on, and brought sleep with it, -I was in the greatest fear lest my fire should be extinguished. I -covered it carefully with dry wood and leaves, and placed wet branches -upon it; and then, spreading my cloak, I lay on the ground, and sunk -into sleep. - -"It was morning when I awoke, and my first care was to visit the fire. I -uncovered it, and a gentle breeze quickly fanned it into a flame. I -observed this also, and contrived a fan of branches, which roused the -embers when they were nearly extinguished. When night came again, I -found, with pleasure, that the fire gave light as well as heat; and that -the discovery of this element was useful to me in my food; for I found -some of the offals that the travellers had left had been roasted, and -tasted much more savoury than the berries I gathered from the trees. I -tried, therefore, to dress my food in the same manner, placing it on the -live embers. I found that the berries were spoiled by this operation, -and the nuts and roots much improved. - -"Food, however, became scarce; and I often spent the whole day searching -in vain for a few acorns to assuage the pangs of hunger. When I found -this, I resolved to quit the place that I had hitherto inhabited, to -seek for one where the few wants I experienced would be more easily -satisfied. In this emigration, I exceedingly lamented the loss of the -fire which I had obtained through accident, and knew not how to -reproduce it. I gave several hours to the serious consideration of this -difficulty; but I was obliged to relinquish all attempt to supply it; -and, wrapping myself up in my cloak, I struck across the wood towards -the setting sun. I passed three days in these rambles, and at length -discovered the open country. A great fall of snow had taken place the -night before, and the fields were of one uniform white; the appearance -was disconsolate, and I found my feet chilled by the cold damp substance -that covered the ground. - -"It was about seven in the morning, and I longed to obtain food and -shelter; at length I perceived a small hut, on a rising ground, which -had doubtless been built for the convenience of some shepherd. This was -a new sight to me; and I examined the structure with great curiosity. -Finding the door open, I entered. An old man sat in it, near a fire, -over which he was preparing his breakfast. He turned on hearing a noise; -and, perceiving me, shrieked loudly, and, quitting the hut, ran across -the fields with a speed of which his debilitated form hardly appeared -capable. His appearance, different from any I had ever before seen, and -his flight, somewhat surprised me. But I was enchanted by the appearance -of the hut: here the snow and rain could not penetrate; the ground was -dry; and it presented to me then as exquisite and divine a retreat as -Pandæmonium appeared to the dæmons of hell after their sufferings in the -lake of fire. I greedily devoured the remnants of the shepherd's -breakfast, which consisted of bread, cheese, milk, and wine; the latter, -however, I did not like. Then, overcome by fatigue, I lay down among -some straw, and fell asleep. - -"It was noon when I awoke; and, allured by the warmth of the sun, which -shone brightly on the white ground, I determined to recommence my -travels; and, depositing the remains of the peasant's breakfast in a -wallet I found, I proceeded across the fields for several hours, until -at sunset I arrived at a village. How miraculous did this appear! the -huts, the neater cottages, and stately houses, engaged my admiration by -turns. The vegetables in the gardens, the milk and cheese that I saw -placed at the windows of some of the cottages, allured my appetite. One -of the best of these I entered; but I had hardly placed my foot within -the door, before the children shrieked, and one of the women fainted. -The whole village was roused; some fled, some attacked me, until, -grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons, I -escaped to the open country, and fearfully took refuge in a low hovel, -quite bare, and making a wretched appearance after the palaces I had -beheld in the village. This hovel, however, joined a cottage of a neat -and pleasant appearance; but, after my late dearly bought experience, I -dared not enter it. My place of refuge was constructed of wood, but so -low, that I could with difficulty sit upright in it. No wood, however, -was placed on the earth, which formed the floor, but it was dry; and -although the wind entered it by innumerable chinks, I found it an -agreeable asylum from the snow and rain. - -"Here then I retreated, and lay down happy to have found a shelter, -however miserable, from the inclemency of the season, and still more -from the barbarity of man. - -"As soon as morning dawned, I crept from my kennel, that I might view -the adjacent cottage, and discover if I could remain in the habitation I -had found. It was situated against the back of the cottage, and -surrounded on the sides which were exposed by a pig-sty and a clear pool -of water. One part was open, and by that I had crept in; but now I -covered every crevice by which I might be perceived with stones and -wood, yet in such a manner that I might move them on occasion to pass -out: all the light I enjoyed came through the sty, and that was -sufficient for me. - -"Having thus arranged my dwelling, and carpeted it with clean straw, I -retired; for I saw the figure of a man at a distance, and I remembered -too well my treatment the night before, to trust myself in his power. I -had first, however, provided for my sustenance for that day, by a loaf -of coarse bread, which I purloined, and a cup with which I could drink, -more conveniently than from my hand, of the pure water which flowed by -my retreat. The floor was a little raised, so that it was kept perfectly -dry, and by its vicinity to the chimney of the cottage it was tolerably -warm. - -"Being thus provided, I resolved to reside in this hovel, until -something should occur which might alter my determination. It was indeed -a paradise, compared to the bleak forest, my former residence, the -rain-dropping branches, and dank earth. I ate my breakfast with -pleasure, and was about to remove a plank to procure myself a little -water, when I heard a step, and looking through a small chink, I beheld -a young creature, with a pail on her head, passing before my hovel. The -girl was young, and of gentle demeanour, unlike what I have since found -cottagers and farm-house servants to be. Yet she was meanly dressed, a -coarse blue petticoat and a linen jacket being her only garb; her fair -hair was plaited, but not adorned: she looked patient, yet sad. I lost -sight of her; and in about a quarter of an hour she returned, bearing -the pail, which was now partly filled with milk. As she walked along, -seemingly incommoded by the burden, a young man met her, whose -countenance expressed a deeper despondence. Uttering a few sounds with -an air of melancholy, he took the pail from her head, and bore it to the -cottage himself. She followed, and they disappeared. Presently I saw the -young man again, with some tools in his hand, cross the field behind the -cottage; and the girl was also busied, sometimes in the house, and -sometimes in the yard. - -"On examining my dwelling, I found that one of the windows of the -cottage had formerly occupied a part of it, but the panes had been -filled up with wood. In one of these was a small and almost -imperceptible chink, through which the eye could just penetrate. Through -this crevice a small room was visible, whitewashed and clean, but very -bare of furniture. In one corner, near a small fire, sat an old man, -leaning his head on his hands in a disconsolate attitude. The young -girl was occupied in arranging the cottage; but presently she took -something out of a drawer, which employed her hands, and she sat down -beside the old man, who, taking up an instrument, began to play, and to -produce sounds sweeter than the voice of the thrush or the nightingale. -It was a lovely sight, even to me, poor wretch! who had never beheld -aught beautiful before. The silver hair and benevolent countenance of -the aged cottager won my reverence, while the gentle manners of the girl -enticed my love. He played a sweet mournful air, which I perceived drew -tears from the eyes of his amiable companion, of which the old man took -no notice, until she sobbed audibly; he then pronounced a few sounds, -and the fair creature, leaving her work, knelt at his feet. He raised -her, and smiled with such kindness and affection, that I felt sensations -of a peculiar and overpowering nature: they were a mixture of pain and -pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, either from hunger or -cold, warmth or food; and I withdrew from the window, unable to bear -these emotions. - -"Soon after this the young man returned, bearing on his shoulders a load -of wood. The girl met him at the door, helped to relieve him of his -burden, and, taking some of the fuel into the cottage, placed it on the -fire; then she and the youth went apart into a nook of the cottage, and -he showed her a large loaf and a piece of cheese. She seemed pleased, -and went into the garden for some roots and plants, which she placed in -water, and then upon the fire. She afterwards continued her work, whilst -the young man went into the garden, and appeared busily employed in -digging and pulling up roots. After he had been employed thus about an -hour, the young woman joined him, and they entered the cottage together. - -"The old man had, in the mean time, been pensive; but, on the appearance -of his companions, he assumed a more cheerful air, and they sat down to -eat. The meal was quickly despatched. The young woman was again occupied -in arranging the cottage; the old man walked before the cottage in the -sun for a few minutes, leaning on the arm of the youth. Nothing could -exceed in beauty the contrast between these two excellent creatures. -One was old, with silver hairs and a countenance beaming with -benevolence and love: the younger was slight and graceful in his figure, -and his features were moulded with the finest symmetry; yet his eyes and -attitude expressed the utmost sadness and despondency. The old man -returned to the cottage; and the youth, with tools different from those -he had used in the morning, directed his steps across the fields. - -"Night quickly shut in; but, to my extreme wonder, I found that the -cottagers had a means of prolonging light by the use of tapers, and was -delighted to find that the setting of the sun did not put an end to the -pleasure I experienced in watching my human neighbours. In the evening, -the young girl and her companion were employed in various occupations -which I did not understand; and the old man again took up the instrument -which produced the divine sounds that had enchanted me in the morning. -So soon as he had finished, the youth began, not to play, but to utter -sounds that were monotonous, and neither resembling the harmony of the -old man's instrument nor the songs of the birds: I since found that he -read aloud, but at that time I knew nothing of the science of words or -letters. - -"The family, after having been thus occupied for a short time, -extinguished their lights, and retired, as I conjectured, to rest." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -"I lay on my straw, but I could not sleep. I thought of the occurrences -of the day. What chiefly struck me was the gentle manners of these -people; and I longed to join them, but dared not. I remembered too well -the treatment I had suffered the night before from the barbarous -villagers, and resolved, whatever course of conduct I might hereafter -think it right to pursue, that for the present I would remain quietly in -my hovel, watching, and endeavouring to discover the motives which -influenced their actions. - -"The cottagers arose the next morning before the sun. The young woman -arranged the cottage, and prepared the food; and the youth departed -after the first meal. - -"This day was passed in the same routine as that which preceded it. The -young man was constantly employed out of doors, and the girl in various -laborious occupations within. The old man, whom I soon perceived to be -blind, employed his leisure hours on his instrument or in contemplation. -Nothing could exceed the love and respect which the younger cottagers -exhibited towards their venerable companion. They performed towards him -every little office of affection and duty with gentleness; and he -rewarded them by his benevolent smiles. - -"They were not entirely happy. The young man and his companion often -went apart, and appeared to weep. I saw no cause for their unhappiness; -but I was deeply affected by it. If such lovely creatures were -miserable, it was less strange that I, an imperfect and solitary being, -should be wretched. Yet why were these gentle beings unhappy? They -possessed a delightful house (for such it was in my eyes) and every -luxury; they had a fire to warm them when chill, and delicious viands -when hungry; they were dressed in excellent clothes; and, still more, -they enjoyed one another's company and speech, interchanging each day -looks of affection and kindness. What did their tears imply? Did they -really express pain? I was at first unable to solve these questions; but -perpetual attention and time explained to me many appearances which were -at first enigmatic. - -"A considerable period elapsed before I discovered one of the causes of -the uneasiness of this amiable family: it was poverty; and they suffered -that evil in a very distressing degree. Their nourishment consisted -entirely of the vegetables of their garden, and the milk of one cow, -which gave very little during the winter, when its masters could -scarcely procure food to support it. They often, I believe, suffered the -pangs of hunger very poignantly, especially the two younger cottagers; -for several times they placed food before the old man, when they -reserved none for themselves. - -"This trait of kindness moved me sensibly. I had been accustomed, during -the night, to steal a part of their store for my own consumption; but -when I found that in doing this I inflicted pain on the cottagers, I -abstained, and satisfied myself with berries, nuts, and roots, which I -gathered from a neighbouring wood. - -"I discovered also another means through which I was enabled to assist -their labours. I found that the youth spent a great part of each day in -collecting wood for the family fire; and, during the night, I often took -his tools, the use of which I quickly discovered, and brought home -firing sufficient for the consumption of several days. - -"I remember, the first time that I did this, the young woman, when she -opened the door in the morning, appeared greatly astonished on seeing a -great pile of wood on the outside. She uttered some words in a loud -voice, and the youth joined her, who also expressed surprise. I -observed, with pleasure, that he did not go to the forest that day, but -spent it in repairing the cottage, and cultivating the garden. - -"By degrees I made a discovery of still greater moment. I found that -these people possessed a method of communicating their experience and -feelings to one another by articulate sounds. I perceived that the words -they spoke sometimes, produced pleasure or pain, smiles or sadness, in -the minds and countenances of the hearers. This was indeed a godlike -science, and I ardently desired to become acquainted with it. But I was -baffled in every attempt I made for this purpose. Their pronunciation -was quick; and the words they uttered, not having any apparent -connection with visible objects, I was unable to discover any clue by -which I could unravel the mystery of their reference. By great -application, however, and after having remained during the space of -several revolutions of the moon in my hovel, I discovered the names that -were given to some of the most familiar objects of discourse; I learned -and applied the words, _fire_, _milk_, _bread_, and _wood_. I learned -also the names of the cottagers themselves. The youth and his companion -had each of them several names, but the old man had only one, which was -_father_. The girl was called _sister_, or _Agatha_; and the youth -_Felix_, _brother_, or _son_. I cannot describe the delight I felt when -I learned the ideas appropriated to each of these sounds, and was able -to pronounce them. I distinguished several other words, without being -able as yet to understand or apply them; such as _good_, _dearest_, -_unhappy_. - -"I spent the winter in this manner. The gentle manners and beauty of the -cottagers greatly endeared them to me: when they were unhappy, I felt -depressed; when they rejoiced, I sympathised in their joys. I saw few -human beings beside them; and if any other happened to enter the -cottage, their harsh manners and rude gait only enhanced to me the -superior accomplishments of my friends. The old man, I could perceive, -often endeavoured to encourage his children, as sometimes I found that -he called them, to cast off their melancholy. He would talk in a -cheerful accent, with an expression of goodness that bestowed pleasure -even upon me. Agatha listened with respect, her eyes sometimes filled -with tears, which she endeavoured to wipe away unperceived; but I -generally found that her countenance and tone were more cheerful after -having listened to the exhortations of her father. It was not thus with -Felix. He was always the saddest of the group; and, even to my -unpractised senses, he appeared to have suffered more deeply than his -friends. But if his countenance was more sorrowful, his voice was more -cheerful than that of his sister, especially when he addressed the old -man. - -"I could mention innumerable instances, which, although slight, marked -the dispositions of these amiable cottagers. In the midst of poverty and -want, Felix carried with pleasure to his sister the first little white -flower that peeped out from beneath the snowy ground. Early in the -morning, before she had risen, he cleared away the snow that obstructed -her path to the milk-house, drew water from the well, and brought the -wood from the out-house, where, to his perpetual astonishment, he found -his store always replenished by an invisible hand. In the day, I -believe, he worked sometimes for a neighbouring farmer, because he often -went forth, and did not return until dinner, yet brought no wood with -him. At other times he worked in the garden; but, as there was little to -do in the frosty season, he read to the old man and Agatha. - -"This reading had puzzled me extremely at first; but, by degrees, I -discovered that he uttered many of the same sounds when he read, as when -he talked. I conjectured, therefore, that he found on the paper signs -for speech which he understood, and I ardently longed to comprehend -these also; but how was that possible, when I did not even understand -the sounds for which they stood as signs? I improved, however, sensibly -in this science, but not sufficiently to follow up any kind of -conversation, although I applied my whole mind to the endeavour: for I -easily perceived that, although I eagerly longed to discover myself to -the cottagers, I ought not to make the attempt until I had first become -master of their language; which knowledge might enable me to make them -overlook the deformity of my figure; for with this also the contrast -perpetually presented to my eyes had made me acquainted. - -"I had admired the perfect forms of my cottagers--their grace, beauty, -and delicate complexions: but how was I terrified, when I viewed myself -in a transparent pool! At first I started back, unable to believe that -it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully -convinced that I was in reality the monster that I am, I was filled with -the bitterest sensations of despondence and mortification. Alas! I did -not yet entirely know the fatal effects of this miserable deformity. - -"As the sun became warmer, and the light of day longer, the snow -vanished, and I beheld the bare trees and the black earth. From this -time Felix was more employed; and the heart-moving indications of -impending famine disappeared. Their food, as I afterwards found, was -coarse, but it was wholesome; and they procured a sufficiency of it. -Several new kinds of plants sprung up in the garden, which they dressed; -and these signs of comfort increased daily as the season advanced. - -"The old man, leaning on his son, walked each day at noon, when it did -not rain, as I found it was called when the heavens poured forth its -waters. This frequently took place; but a high wind quickly dried the -earth, and the season became far more pleasant than it had been. - -"My mode of life in my hovel was uniform. During the morning, I -attended the motions of the cottagers; and when they were dispersed in -various occupations, I slept: the remainder of the day was spent in -observing my friends. When they had retired to rest, if there was any -moon, or the night was star-light, I went into the woods, and collected -my own food and fuel for the cottage. When I returned, as often as it -was necessary, I cleared their path from the snow, and performed those -offices that I had seen done by Felix. I afterwards found that these -labours, performed by an invisible hand, greatly astonished them; and -once or twice I heard them, on these occasions, utter the words _good_ -_spirit_, _wonderful_; but I did not then understand the signification -of these terms. - -"My thoughts now became more active, and I longed to discover the -motives and feelings of these lovely creatures; I was inquisitive to -know why Felix appeared so miserable, and Agatha so sad. I thought -(foolish wretch!) that it might be in my power to restore happiness to -these deserving people. When I slept, or was absent, the forms of the -venerable blind father, the gentle Agatha, and the excellent Felix, -flitted before me. I looked upon them as superior beings, who would be -the arbiters of my future destiny. I formed in my imagination a thousand -pictures of presenting myself to them, and their reception of me. I -imagined that they would be disgusted, until, by my gentle demeanour and -conciliating words, I should first win their favour, and afterwards -their love. - -"These thoughts exhilarated me, and led me to apply with fresh ardour to -the acquiring the art of language. My organs were indeed harsh, but -supple; and although my voice was very unlike the soft music of their -tones, yet I pronounced such words as I understood with tolerable ease. -It was as the ass and the lap-dog; yet surely the gentle ass whose -intentions were affectionate, although his manners were rude, deserved -better treatment than blows and execration. - -"The pleasant showers and genial warmth of spring greatly altered the -aspect of the earth. Men, who before this change seemed to have been hid -in caves, dispersed themselves, and were employed in various arts of -cultivation. The birds sang in more cheerful notes, and the leaves began -to bud forth on the trees. Happy, happy earth! fit habitation for gods, -which, so short a time before, was bleak, damp, and unwholesome. My -spirits were elevated by the enchanting appearance of nature; the past -was blotted from my memory, the present was tranquil, and the future -gilded by bright rays of hope, and anticipations of joy." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -"I now hasten to the more moving part of my story. I shall relate -events, that impressed me with feelings which, from what I had been, -have made me what I am. - -"Spring advanced rapidly; the weather became fine, and the skies -cloudless. It surprised me, that what before was desert and gloomy -should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses -were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight, and a -thousand sights of beauty. - -"It was on one of these days, when my cottagers periodically rested from -labour--the old man played on his guitar, and the children listened to -him--that I observed the countenance of Felix was melancholy beyond -expression; he sighed frequently; and once his father paused in his -music, and I conjectured by his manner that he enquired the cause of his -son's sorrow. Felix replied in a cheerful accent, and the old man was -recommencing his music, when some one tapped at the door. - -"It was a lady on horseback, accompanied by a countryman as a guide. The -lady was dressed in a dark suit, and covered with a thick black veil. -Agatha asked a question; to which the stranger only replied by -pronouncing, in a sweet accent, the name of Felix. Her voice was -musical, but unlike that of either of my friends. On hearing this word, -Felix came up hastily to the lady; who, when she saw him, threw up her -veil, and I beheld a countenance of angelic beauty and expression. Her -hair of a shining raven black, and curiously braided; her eyes were -dark, but gentle, although animated; her features of a regular -proportion, and her complexion wondrously fair, each cheek tinged with a -lovely pink. - -"Felix seemed ravished with delight when he saw her, every trait of -sorrow vanished from his face, and it instantly expressed a degree of -ecstatic joy, of which I could hardly have believed it capable; his eyes -sparkled, as his cheek flushed with pleasure; and at that moment I -thought him as beautiful as the stranger. She appeared affected by -different feelings; wiping a few tears from her lovely eyes, she held -out her hand to Felix, who kissed it rapturously, and called her, as -well as I could distinguish, his sweet Arabian. She did not appear to -understand him, but smiled. He assisted her to dismount, and dismissing -her guide, conducted her into the cottage. Some conversation took place -between him and his father; and the young stranger knelt at the old -man's feet, and would have kissed his hand, but he raised her, and -embraced her affectionately. - -"I soon perceived, that although the stranger uttered articulate sounds, -and appeared to have a language of her own, she was neither understood -by, nor herself understood, the cottagers. They made many signs which I -did not comprehend; but I saw that her presence diffused gladness -through the cottage, dispelling their sorrow as the sun dissipates the -morning mists. Felix seemed peculiarly happy, and with smiles of delight -welcomed his Arabian. Agatha, the ever-gentle Agatha, kissed the hands -of the lovely stranger; and, pointing to her brother, made signs which -appeared to me to mean that he had been sorrowful until she came. Some -hours passed thus, while they, by their countenances, expressed joy, the -cause of which I did not comprehend. Presently I found, by the frequent -recurrence of some sound which the stranger repeated after them, that -she was endeavouring to learn their language; and the idea instantly -occurred to me, that I should make use of the same instructions to the -same end. The stranger learned about twenty words at the first lesson, -most of them, indeed, were those which I had before understood, but I -profited by the others. - -"As night came on, Agatha and the Arabian retired early. When they -separated, Felix kissed the hand of the stranger, and said, 'Good night, -sweet Safie.' He sat up much longer, conversing with his father; and, by -the frequent repetition of her name, I conjectured that their lovely -guest was the subject of their conversation. I ardently desired to -understand them, and bent every faculty towards that purpose, but found -it utterly impossible. - -"The next morning Felix went out to his work; and, after the usual -occupations of Agatha were finished, the Arabian sat at the feet of the -old man, and, taking his guitar, played some airs so entrancingly -beautiful, that they at once drew tears of sorrow and delight from my -eyes. She sang, and her voice flowed in a rich cadence, swelling or -dying away, like a nightingale of the woods. - -"When she had finished, she gave the guitar to Agatha, who at first -declined it. She played a simple air, and her voice accompanied it in -sweet accents, but unlike the wondrous strain of the stranger. The old -man appeared enraptured, and said some words, which Agatha endeavoured -to explain to Safie, and by which he appeared to wish to express that -she bestowed on him the greatest delight by her music. - -"The days now passed as peaceably as before, with the sole alteration, -that joy had taken place of sadness in the countenances of my friends. -Safie was always gay and happy; she and I improved rapidly in the -knowledge of language, so that in two months I began to comprehend most -of the words uttered by my protectors. - -"In the meanwhile also the black ground was covered with herbage, and -the green banks interspersed with innumerable flowers, sweet to the -scent and the eyes, stars of pale radiance among the moonlight woods; -the sun became warmer, the nights clear and balmy; and my nocturnal -rambles were an extreme pleasure to me, although they were considerably -shortened by the late setting and early rising of the sun; for I never -ventured abroad during daylight, fearful of meeting with the same -treatment I had formerly endured in the first village which I entered. - -"My days were spent in close attention, that I might more speedily -master the language; and I may boast that I improved more rapidly than -the Arabian, who understood very little, and conversed in broken -accents, whilst I comprehended and could imitate almost every word that -was spoken. - -"While I improved in speech, I also learned the science of letters, as -it was taught to the stranger; and this opened before me a wide field -for wonder and delight. - -"The book from which Felix instructed Safie was Volney's 'Ruins of -Empires.' I should not have understood the purport of this book, had not -Felix, in reading it, given very minute explanations. He had chosen this -work, he said, because the declamatory style was framed in imitation of -the eastern authors. Through this work I obtained a cursory knowledge of -history, and a view of the several empires at present existing in the -world; it gave me an insight into the manners, governments, and -religions of the different nations of the earth. I heard of the slothful -Asiatics; of the stupendous genius and mental activity of the Grecians; -of the wars and wonderful virtue of the early Romans--of their -subsequent degenerating--of the decline of that mighty empire; of -chivalry, Christianity, and kings. I heard of the discovery of the -American hemisphere, and wept with Safie over the hapless fate of its -original inhabitants. - -"These wonderful narrations inspired me with strange feelings. Was man, -indeed, at once so powerful, so virtuous, and magnificent, yet so -vicious and base? He appeared at one time a mere scion of the evil -principle, and at another, as all that can be conceived of noble and -godlike. To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour that -can befall a sensitive being; to be base and vicious, as many on record -have been, appeared the lowest degradation, a condition more abject than -that of the blind mole or harmless worm. For a long time I could not -conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why -there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and -bloodshed, my wonder ceased, and I turned away with disgust and -loathing. - -"Every conversation of the cottagers now opened new wonders to me. -While I listened to the instructions which Felix bestowed upon the -Arabian, the strange system of human society was explained to me. I -heard of the division of property, of immense wealth and squalid -poverty; of rank, descent, and noble blood. - -"The words induced me to turn towards myself. I learned that the -possessions most esteemed by your fellow-creatures were, high and -unsullied descent united with riches. A man might be respected with only -one of these advantages; but, without either, he was considered, except -in very rare instances, as a vagabond and a slave, doomed to waste his -powers for the profits of the chosen few! And what was I? Of my creation -and creator I was absolutely ignorant; but I knew that I possessed no -money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a -figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same -nature as man. I was more agile than they, and could subsist upon -coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to -my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around, I saw -and heard of none like me. Was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, -from which all men fled, and whom all men disowned? - -"I cannot describe to you the agony that these reflections inflicted -upon me: I tried to dispel them, but sorrow only increased with -knowledge. Oh, that I had for ever remained in my native wood, nor known -nor felt beyond the sensations of hunger, thirst, and heat! - -"Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind, when it -has once seized on it, like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to -shake off all thought and feeling; but I learned that there was but one -means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death--a state -which I feared yet did not understand. I admired virtue and good -feelings, and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my -cottagers; but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except through -means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and unknown, and -which rather increased than satisfied the desire I had of becoming one -among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha, and the animated smiles -of the charming Arabian, were not for me. The mild exhortations of the -old man, and the lively conversation of the loved Felix, were not for -me. Miserable, unhappy wretch! - -"Other lessons were impressed upon me even more deeply. I heard of the -difference of sexes; and the birth and growth of children; how the -father doated on the smiles of the infant, and the lively sallies of the -older child; how all the life and cares of the mother were wrapped up in -the precious charge; how the mind of youth expanded and gained -knowledge; of brother, sister, and all the various relationships which -bind one human being to another in mutual bonds. - -"But where were my friends and relations? No father had watched my -infant days, no mother had blessed me with smiles and caresses; or if -they had, all my past life was now a blot, a blind vacancy in which I -distinguished nothing. From my earliest remembrance I had been as I then -was in height and proportion. I had never yet seen a being resembling -me, or who claimed any intercourse with me. What was I? The question -again recurred, to be answered only with groans. - -"I will soon explain to what these feelings tended; but allow me now to -return to the cottagers, whose story excited in me such various feelings -of indignation, delight, and wonder, but which all terminated in -additional love and reverence for my protectors (for so I loved, in an -innocent, half painful self-deceit, to call them)." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -"Some time elapsed before I learned the history of my friends. It was -one which could not fail to impress itself deeply on my mind, unfolding -as it did a number of circumstances, each interesting and wonderful to -one so utterly inexperienced as I was. - -"The name of the old man was De Lacey. He was descended from a good -family in France, where he had lived for many years in affluence, -respected by his superiors, and beloved by his equals. His son was bred -in the service of his country; and Agatha had ranked with ladies of the -highest distinction. A few months before my arrival, they had lived in a -large and luxurious city, called Paris, surrounded by friends, and -possessed of every enjoyment which virtue, refinement of intellect, or -taste, accompanied by a moderate fortune, could afford. - -"The father of Safie had been the cause of their ruin. He was a Turkish -merchant, and had inhabited Paris for many years, when, for some reason -which I could not learn, he became obnoxious to the government. He was -seized and cast into prison the very day that Safie arrived from -Constantinople to join him. He was tried, and condemned to death. The -injustice of his sentence was very flagrant; all Paris was indignant; -and it was judged that his religion and wealth, rather than the crime -alleged against him, had been the cause of his condemnation. - -"Felix had accidentally been present at the trial; his horror and -indignation were uncontrollable, when he heard the decision of the -court. He made, at that moment, a solemn vow to deliver him, and then -looked around for the means. After many fruitless attempts to gain -admittance to the prison, he found a strongly grated window in an -unguarded part of the building, which lighted the dungeon of the -unfortunate Mahometan; who, loaded with chains, waited in despair the -execution of the barbarous sentence. Felix visited the grate at night, -and made known to the prisoner his intentions in his favour. The Turk, -amazed and delighted, endeavoured to kindle the zeal of his deliverer by -promises of reward and wealth. Felix rejected his offers with contempt; -yet when he saw the lovely Safie, who was allowed to visit her father, -and who, by her gestures, expressed her lively gratitude, the youth -could not help owning to his own mind, that the captive possessed a -treasure which would fully reward his toil and hazard. - -"The Turk quickly perceived the impression that his daughter had made on -the heart of Felix, and endeavoured to secure him more entirely in his -interests by the promise of her hand in marriage, so soon as he should -be conveyed to a place of safety. Felix was too delicate to accept this -offer; yet he looked forward to the probability of the event as to the -consummation of his happiness. - -"During the ensuing days, while the preparations were going forward for -the escape of the merchant, the zeal of Felix was warmed by several -letters that he received from this lovely girl, who found means to -express her thoughts in the language of her lover by the aid of an old -man, a servant of her father, who understood French. She thanked him in -the most ardent terms for his intended services towards her parent; and -at the same time she gently deplored her own fate. - -"I have copies of these letters; for I found means, during my residence -in the hovel, to procure the implements of writing; and the letters were -often in the hands of Felix or Agatha. Before I depart, I will give them -to you, they will prove the truth of my tale; but at present, as the sun -is already far declined, I shall only have time to repeat the substance -of them to you. - -"Safie related, that her mother was a Christian Arab, seized and made a -slave by the Turks; recommended by her beauty, she had won the heart of -the father of Safie, who married her. The young girl spoke in high and -enthusiastic terms of her mother, who, born in freedom, spurned the -bondage to which she was now reduced. She instructed her daughter in the -tenets of her religion, and taught her to aspire to higher powers of -intellect, and an independence of spirit, forbidden to the female -followers of Mahomet. This lady died; but her lessons were indelibly -impressed on the mind of Safie, who sickened at the prospect of again -returning to Asia, and being immured within the walls of a haram, -allowed only to occupy herself with infantile amusements, ill suited to -the temper of her soul, now accustomed to grand ideas and a noble -emulation for virtue. The prospect of marrying a Christian, and -remaining in a country where women were allowed to take a rank in -society, was enchanting to her. - -"The day for the execution of the Turk was fixed; but, on the night -previous to it, he quitted his prison, and before morning was distant -many leagues from Paris. Felix had procured passports in the name of his -father, sister, and himself. He had previously communicated his plan to -the former, who aided the deceit by quitting his house, under the -pretence of a journey, and concealed himself, with his daughter, in an -obscure part of Paris. - -"Felix conducted the fugitives through France to Lyons, and across Mont -Cenis to Leghorn, where the merchant had decided to wait a favourable -opportunity of passing into some part of the Turkish dominions. - -"Safie resolved to remain with her father until the moment of his -departure, before which time the Turk renewed his promise that she -should be united to his deliverer; and Felix remained with them in -expectation of that event; and in the mean time he enjoyed the society -of the Arabian, who exhibited towards him the simplest and tenderest -affection. They conversed with one another through the means of an -interpreter, and sometimes with the interpretation of looks; and Safie -sang to him the divine airs of her native country. - -"The Turk allowed this intimacy to take place, and encouraged the hopes -of the youthful lovers, while in his heart he had formed far other -plans. He loathed the idea that his daughter should be united to a -Christian; but he feared the resentment of Felix, if he should appear -lukewarm; for he knew that he was still in the power of his deliverer, -if he should choose to betray him to the Italian state which they -inhabited. He revolved a thousand plans by which he should be enabled to -prolong the deceit until it might be no longer necessary, and secretly -to take his daughter with him when he departed. His plans were -facilitated by the news which arrived from Paris. - -"The government of France were greatly enraged at the escape of their -victim, and spared no pains to detect and punish his deliverer. The plot -of Felix was quickly discovered, and De Lacey and Agatha were thrown -into prison. The news reached Felix, and roused him from his dream of -pleasure. His blind and aged father, and his gentle sister, lay in a -noisome dungeon, while he enjoyed the free air, and the society of her -whom he loved. This idea was torture to him. He quickly arranged with -the Turks, that if the latter should find a favourable opportunity for -escape before Felix could return to Italy, Safie should remain as a -boarder at a convent at Leghorn; and then, quitting the lovely Arabian, -he hastened to Paris, and delivered himself up to the vengeance of the -law, hoping to free De Lacey and Agatha by this proceeding. - -"He did not succeed. They remained confined for five months before the -trial took place; the result of which deprived them of their fortune, -and condemned them to a perpetual exile from their native country. - -"They found a miserable asylum in the cottage in Germany, where I -discovered them. Felix soon learned that the treacherous Turk, for whom -he and his family endured such unheard-of oppression, on discovering -that his deliverer was thus reduced to poverty and ruin, became a -traitor to good feeling and honour, and had quitted Italy with his -daughter, insultingly sending Felix a pittance of money, to aid him, as -he said, in some plan of future maintenance. - -"Such were the events that preyed on the heart of Felix, and rendered -him, when I first saw him, the most miserable of his family. He could -have endured poverty; and while this distress had been the meed of his -virtue, he gloried in it: but the ingratitude of the Turk, and the loss -of his beloved Safie, were misfortunes more bitter and irreparable. The -arrival of the Arabian now infused new life into his soul. - -"When the news reached Leghorn, that Felix was deprived of his wealth -and rank, the merchant commanded his daughter to think no more of her -lover, but to prepare to return to her native country. The generous -nature of Safie was outraged by this command; she attempted to -expostulate with her father, but he left her angrily, reiterating his -tyrannical mandate. - -"A few days after, the Turk entered his daughter's apartment, and told -her hastily, that he had reason to believe that his residence at Leghorn -had been divulged, and that he should speedily be delivered up to the -French government; he had, consequently hired a vessel to convey him to -Constantinople, for which city he should sail in a few hours. He -intended to leave his daughter under the care of a confidential servant, -to follow at her leisure with the greater part of his property, which -had not yet arrived at Leghorn. - -"When alone, Safie resolved in her own mind the plan of conduct that it -would become her to pursue in this emergency. A residence in Turkey was -abhorrent to her; her religion and her feelings were alike adverse to -it. By some papers of her father, which fell into her hands, she heard -of the exile of her lover, and learnt the name of the spot where he then -resided. She hesitated some time, but at length she formed her -determination. Taking with her some jewels that belonged to her, and a -sum of money, she quitted Italy with an attendant, a native of Leghorn, -but who understood the common language of Turkey, and departed for -Germany. - -"She arrived in safety at a town about twenty leagues from the cottage -of De Lacey, when her attendant fell dangerously ill. Safie nursed her -with the most devoted affection; but the poor girl died, and the Arabian -was left alone, unacquainted with the language of the country, and -utterly ignorant of the customs of the world. She fell, however, into -good hands. The Italian had mentioned the name of the spot for which -they were bound; and, after her death, the woman of the house in which -they had lived took care that Safie should arrive in safety at the -cottage of her lover." - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -"Such was the history of my beloved cottagers. It impressed me deeply. I -learned, from the views of social life which it developed, to admire -their virtues, and to deprecate the vices of mankind. - -"As yet I looked upon crime as a distant evil; benevolence and -generosity were ever present before me, inciting within me a desire to -become an actor in the busy scene where so many admirable qualities were -called forth and displayed. But, in giving an account of the progress of -my intellect, I must not omit a circumstance which occurred in the -beginning of the month of August of the same year. - -"One night, during my accustomed visit to the neighbouring wood, where I -collected my own food, and brought home firing for my protectors, I -found on the ground a leathern portmanteau, containing several articles -of dress and some books. I eagerly seized the prize, and returned with -it to my hovel. Fortunately the books were written in the language, the -elements of which I had acquired at the cottage; they consisted of -'Paradise Lost,' a volume of 'Plutarch's Lives,' and the 'Sorrows of -Werter.' The possession of these treasures gave me extreme delight; I -now continually studied and exercised my mind upon these histories, -whilst my friends were employed in their ordinary occupations. - -"I can hardly describe to you the effect of these books. They produced -in me an infinity of new images and feelings, that sometimes raised me -to ecstacy, but more frequently sunk me into the lowest dejection. In -the 'Sorrows of Werter,' besides the interest of its simple and -affecting story, so many opinions are canvassed, and so many lights -thrown upon what had hitherto been to me obscure subjects, that I found -in it a never-ending source of speculation and astonishment. The gentle -and domestic manners it described, combined with lofty sentiments and -feelings, which had for their object something out of self, accorded -well with my experience among my protectors, and with the wants which -were for ever alive in my own bosom. But I thought Werter himself a more -divine being than I had ever beheld or imagined; his character contained -no pretension, but it sunk deep. The disquisitions upon death and -suicide were calculated to fill me with wonder. I did not pretend to -enter into the merits of the case, yet I inclined towards the opinions -of the hero, whose extinction I wept, without precisely understanding -it. - -"As I read, however, I applied much personally to my own feelings and -condition. I found myself similar, yet at the same time strangely unlike -to the beings concerning whom I read, and to whose conversation I was a -listener. I sympathised with, and partly understood them, but I was -unformed in mind; I was dependent on none, and related to none. 'The -path of my departure was free;' and there was none to lament my -annihilation. My person was hideous, and my stature gigantic? What did -this mean? Who was I? What was I? Whence did I come? What was my -destination? These questions continually recurred, but I was unable to -solve them. - -"The volume of 'Plutarch's Lives,' which I possessed, contained the -histories of the first founders of the ancient republics. This book had -a far different effect upon me from the 'Sorrows of Werter.' I learned -from Werter's imaginations despondency and gloom: but Plutarch taught me -high thoughts; he elevated me above the wretched sphere of my own -reflections, to admire and love the heroes of past ages. Many things I -read surpassed my understanding and experience. I had a very confused -knowledge of kingdoms, wide extents of country, mighty rivers, and -boundless seas. But I was perfectly unacquainted with towns, and large -assemblages of men. The cottage of my protectors had been the only -school in which I had studied human nature; but this book developed new -and mightier scenes of action. I read of men concerned in public -affairs, governing or massacring their species. I felt the greatest -ardour for virtue rise within me, and abhorrence for vice, as far as I -understood the signification of those terms, relative as they were, as I -applied them, to pleasure and pain alone. Induced by these feelings, I -was of course led to admire peaceable lawgivers, Numa, Solon, and -Lycurgus, in preference to Romulus and Theseus. The patriarchal lives of -my protectors caused these impressions to take a firm hold on my mind; -perhaps, if my first introduction to humanity had been made by a young -soldier, burning for glory and slaughter, I should have been imbued with -different sensations. - -"But 'Paradise Lost' excited different and far deeper emotions. I read -it, as I had read the other volumes which had fallen into my hands, as -a true history. It moved every feeling of wonder and awe, that the -picture of an omnipotent God warring with his creatures was capable of -exciting. I often referred the several situations, as their similarity -struck me, to my own. Like Adam, I was apparently united by no link to -any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine -in every other respect. He had come forth from the hands of God a -perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of -his Creator; he was allowed to converse with, and acquire knowledge -from, beings of a superior nature: but I was wretched, helpless, and -alone. Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my -condition; for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my -protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me. - -"Another circumstance strengthened and confirmed these feelings. Soon -after my arrival in the hovel, I discovered some papers in the pocket of -the dress which I had taken from your laboratory. At first I had -neglected them; but now that I was able to decipher the characters in -which they were written, I began to study them with diligence. It was -your journal of the four months that preceded my creation. You minutely -described in these papers every step you took in the progress of your -work; this history was mingled with accounts of domestic occurrences. -You, doubtless, recollect these papers. Here they are. Every thing is -related in them which bears reference to my accursed origin; the whole -detail of that series of disgusting circumstances which produced it, is -set in view; the minutest description of my odious and loathsome person -is given, in language which painted your own horrors, and rendered mine -indelible. I sickened as I read. 'Hateful day when I received life!' I -exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so -hideous that even _you_ turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made -man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy -type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his -companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am -solitary and abhorred.' - -"These were the reflections of my hours of despondency and solitude; but -when I contemplated the virtues of the cottagers, their amiable and -benevolent dispositions, I persuaded myself that when they should become -acquainted with my admiration of their virtues, they would compassionate -me, and overlook my personal deformity. Could they turn from their door -one, however monstrous, who solicited their compassion and friendship? I -resolved, at least, not to despair, but in every way to fit myself for -an interview with them which would decide my fate. I postponed this -attempt for some months longer; for the importance attached to its -success inspired me with a dread lest I should fail. Besides, I found -that my understanding improved so much with every day's experience, that -I was unwilling to commence this undertaking until a few more months -should have added to my sagacity. - -"Several changes, in the mean time, took place in the cottage. The -presence of Safie diffused happiness among its inhabitants; and I also -found that a greater degree of plenty reigned there. Felix and Agatha -spent more time in amusement and conversation, and were assisted in -their labours by servants. They did not appear rich, but they were -contented and happy; their feelings were serene and peaceful, while mine -became every day more tumultuous. Increase of knowledge only discovered -to me more clearly what a wretched outcast I was. I cherished hope, it -is true; but it vanished, when I beheld my person reflected in water, or -my shadow in the moonshine, even as that frail image and that inconstant -shade. - -"I endeavoured to crush these fears, and to fortify myself for the trial -which in a few months I resolved to undergo; and sometimes I allowed my -thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise, and -dared to fancy amiable and lovely creatures sympathising with my -feelings, and cheering my gloom; their angelic countenances breathed -smiles of consolation. But it was all a dream; no Eve soothed my -sorrows, nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam's -supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me -and, in the bitterness of my heart, I cursed him. - -"Autumn passed thus. I saw, with surprise and grief, the leaves decay -and fall, and nature again assume the barren and bleak appearance it had -worn when I first beheld the woods and the lovely moon. Yet I did not -heed the bleakness of the weather; I was better fitted by my -conformation for the endurance of cold than heat. But my chief delights -were the sight of the flowers, the birds, and all the gay apparel of -summer; when those deserted me, I turned with more attention towards the -cottagers. Their happiness was not decreased by the absence of summer. -They loved, and sympathised with one another; and their joys, depending -on each other, were not interrupted by the casualties that took place -around them. The more I saw of them, the greater became my desire to -claim their protection and kindness; my heart yearned to be known and -loved by these amiable creatures: to see their sweet looks directed -towards me with affection, was the utmost limit of my ambition. I dared -not think that they would turn them from me with disdain and horror. The -poor that stopped at their door were never driven away. I asked, it is -true, for greater treasures than a little food or rest: I required -kindness and sympathy; but I did not believe myself utterly unworthy of -it. - -"The winter advanced, and an entire revolution of the seasons had taken -place since I awoke into life. My attention, at this time, was solely -directed towards my plan of introducing myself into the cottage of my -protectors. I revolved many projects; but that on which I finally fixed -was, to enter the dwelling when the blind old man should be alone. I had -sagacity enough to discover, that the unnatural hideousness of my person -was the chief object of horror with those who had formerly beheld me. My -voice, although harsh, had nothing terrible in it; I thought, therefore, -that if, in the absence of his children, I could gain the good-will and -mediation of the old De Lacey, I might, by his means, be tolerated by my -younger protectors. - -"One day, when the sun shone on the red leaves that strewed the ground, -and diffused cheerfulness, although it denied warmth, Safie, Agatha, and -Felix departed on a long country walk, and the old man, at his own -desire, was left alone in the cottage. When his children had departed, -he took up his guitar, and played several mournful but sweet airs, more -sweet and mournful than I had ever heard him play before. At first his -countenance was illuminated with pleasure, but, as he continued, -thoughtfulness and sadness succeeded; at length, laying aside the -instrument, he sat absorbed in reflection. - -"My heart beat quick; this was the hour and moment of trial, which would -decide my hopes, or realise my fears. The servants were gone to a -neighbouring fair. All was silent in and around the cottage: it was an -excellent opportunity; yet, when I proceeded to execute my plan, my -limbs failed me, and I sank to the ground. Again I rose; and, exerting -all the firmness of which I was master, removed the planks which I had -placed before my hovel to conceal my retreat. The fresh air revived me, -and, with renewed determination, I approached the door of their cottage. - -"I knocked. 'Who is there?' said the old man--'Come in.' - -"I entered; 'Pardon this intrusion,' said I: 'I am a traveller in want -of a little rest; you would greatly oblige me, if you would allow me to -remain a few minutes before the fire.' - -"'Enter,' said De Lacey; 'and I will try in what manner I can relieve -your wants; but, unfortunately, my children are from home, and, as I am -blind, I am afraid I shall find it difficult to procure food for you.' - -"'Do not trouble yourself, my kind host, I have food; it is warmth and -rest only that I need.' - -"I sat down, and a silence ensued. I knew that every minute was precious -to me, yet I remained irresolute in what manner to commence the -interview; when the old man addressed me-- - -"'By your language, stranger, I suppose you are my countryman;--are you -French?' - -"'No; but I was educated by a French family, and understand that -language only. I am now going to claim the protection of some friends, -whom I sincerely love, and of whose favour I have some hopes.' - -"'Are they Germans?' - -"'No, they are French. But let us change the subject. I am an -unfortunate and deserted creature; I look around, and I have no relation -or friend upon earth. These amiable people to whom I go have never seen -me, and know little of me. I am full of fears; for if I fail there, I am -an outcast in the world for ever.' - -"'Do not despair. To be friendless is indeed to be unfortunate; but the -hearts of men, when unprejudiced by any obvious self-interest, are full -of brotherly love and charity. Rely, therefore, on your hopes; and if -these friends are good and amiable, do not despair.' - -"'They are kind--they are the most excellent creatures in the world; -but, unfortunately, they are prejudiced against me. I have good -dispositions; my life has been hitherto harmless, and in some degree -beneficial; but a fatal prejudice clouds their eyes, and where they -ought to see a feeling and kind friend, they behold only a detestable -monster.' - -"'That is indeed unfortunate; but if you are really blameless, cannot -you undeceive them?' - -"'I am about to undertake that task; and it is on that account that I -feel so many overwhelming terrors. I tenderly love these friends; I -have, unknown to them, been for many months in the habits of daily -kindness towards them; but they believe that I wish to injure them, and -it is that prejudice which I wish to overcome.' - -"'Where do these friends reside?' - -"'Near this spot.' - -"The old man paused, and then continued, 'If you will unreservedly -confide to me the particulars of your tale, I perhaps may be of use in -undeceiving them. I am blind, and cannot judge of your countenance, but -there is something in your words, which persuades me that you are -sincere. I am poor, and an exile; but it will afford me true pleasure to -be in any way serviceable to a human creature.' - -"'Excellent man! I thank you, and accept your generous offer. You raise -me from the dust by this kindness; and I trust that, by your aid, I -shall not be driven from the society and sympathy of your -fellow-creatures.' - -"'Heaven forbid! even if you were really criminal; for that can only -drive you to desperation, and not instigate you to virtue. I also am -unfortunate; I and my family have been condemned, although innocent: -judge, therefore, if I do not feel for your misfortunes.' - -"'How can I thank you, my best and only benefactor? From your lips first -have I heard the voice of kindness directed towards me; I shall be for -ever grateful; and your present humanity assures me of success with -those friends whom I am on the point of meeting.' - -"'May I know the names and residence of those friends?' - -"I paused. This, I thought, was the moment of decision, which was to rob -me of, or bestow happiness on me for ever. I struggled vainly for -firmness sufficient to answer him, but the effort destroyed all my -remaining strength; I sank on the chair, and sobbed aloud. At that -moment I heard the steps of my younger protectors. I had not a moment to -lose; but, seizing the hand of the old man, I cried, 'Now is the -time!--save and protect me! You and your family are the friends whom I -seek. Do not you desert me in the hour of trial!' - -"'Great God!' exclaimed the old man, 'who are you?' - -"At that instant the cottage door was opened, and Felix, Safie, and -Agatha entered. Who can describe their horror and consternation on -beholding me? Agatha fainted; and Safie, unable to attend to her friend, -rushed out of the cottage. Felix darted forward, and with supernatural -force tore me from his father, to whose knees I clung: in a transport of -fury, he dashed me to the ground, and struck me violently with a stick. -I could have torn him limb from limb, as the lion rends the antelope. -But my heart sunk within me as with bitter sickness, and I refrained. I -saw him on the point of repeating his blow, when, overcome by pain and -anguish, I quitted the cottage, and in the general tumult escaped -unperceived to my hovel." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -"Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not -extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I -know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were -those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the -cottage and its inhabitants, and have glutted myself with their shrieks -and misery. - -"When night came, I quitted my retreat, and wandered in the wood; and -now, no longer restrained by the fear of discovery, I gave vent to my -anguish in fearful howlings. I was like a wild beast that had broken the -toils; destroying the objects that obstructed me, and ranging through -the wood with a stag-like swiftness. O! what a miserable night I passed! -the cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees waved their branches -above me: now and then the sweet voice of a bird burst forth amidst the -universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment: I, like -the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me; and, finding myself unsympathised -with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around -me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin. - -"But this was a luxury of sensation that could not endure; I became -fatigued with excess of bodily exertion, and sank on the damp grass in -the sick impotence of despair. There was none among the myriads of men -that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness -towards my enemies? No: from that moment I declared everlasting war -against the species, and, more than all, against him who had formed me, -and sent me forth to this insupportable misery. - -"The sun rose; I heard the voices of men, and knew that it was -impossible to return to my retreat during that day. Accordingly I hid -myself in some thick underwood, determining to devote the ensuing hours -to reflection on my situation. - -"The pleasant sunshine, and the pure air of day, restored me to some -degree of tranquillity; and when I considered what had passed at the -cottage, I could not help believing that I had been too hasty in my -conclusions. I had certainly acted imprudently. It was apparent that my -conversation had interested the father in my behalf, and I was a fool in -having exposed my person to the horror of his children. I ought to have -familiarised the old De Lacey to me, and by degrees to have discovered -myself to the rest of his family, when they should have been prepared -for my approach. But I did not believe my errors to be irretrievable; -and, after much consideration, I resolved to return to the cottage, seek -the old man, and by my representations win him to my party. - -"These thoughts calmed me, and in the afternoon I sank into a profound -sleep; but the fever of my blood did not allow me to be visited by -peaceful dreams. The horrible scene of the preceding day was for ever -acting before my eyes; the females were flying, and the enraged Felix -tearing me from his father's feet. I awoke exhausted; and, finding that -it was already night, I crept forth from my hiding-place, and went in -search of food. - -"When my hunger was appeased, I directed my steps towards the well-known -path that conducted to the cottage. All there was at peace. I crept into -my hovel, and remained in silent expectation of the accustomed hour when -the family arose. That hour passed, the sun mounted high in the heavens, -but the cottagers did not appear. I trembled violently, apprehending -some dreadful misfortune. The inside of the cottage was dark, and I -heard no motion; I cannot describe the agony of this suspense. - -"Presently two countrymen passed by; but, pausing near the cottage, they -entered into conversation, using violent gesticulations; but I did not -understand what they said, as they spoke the language of the country, -which differed from that of my protectors. Soon after, however, Felix -approached with another man: I was surprised, as I knew that he had not -quitted the cottage that morning, and waited anxiously to discover, from -his discourse, the meaning of these unusual appearances. - -"'Do you consider,' said his companion to him, 'that you will be -obliged to pay three months' rent, and to lose the produce of your -garden? I do not wish to take any unfair advantage, and I beg therefore -that you will take some days to consider of your determination.' - -"'It is utterly useless,' replied Felix; 'we can never again inhabit -your cottage. The life of my father is in the greatest danger, owing to -the dreadful circumstance that I have related. My wife and my sister -will never recover their horror. I entreat you not to reason with me any -more. Take possession of your tenement, and let me fly from this place.' - -"Felix trembled violently as he said this. He and his companion entered -the cottage, in which they remained for a few minutes, and then -departed. I never saw any of the family of De Lacey more. - -"I continued for the remainder of the day in my hovel in a state of -utter and stupid despair. My protectors had departed, and had broken the -only link that held me to the world. For the first time the feelings of -revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I did not strive to control -them; but, allowing myself to be borne away by the stream, I bent my -mind towards injury and death. When I thought of my friends, of the mild -voice of De Lacey, the gentle eyes of Agatha, and the exquisite beauty -of the Arabian, these thoughts vanished, and a gush of tears somewhat -soothed me. But again, when I reflected that they had spurned and -deserted me, anger returned, a rage of anger; and, unable to injure any -thing human, I turned my fury towards inanimate objects. As night -advanced, I placed a variety of combustibles around the cottage; and, -after having destroyed every vestige of cultivation in the garden, I -waited with forced impatience until the moon had sunk to commence my -operations. - -"As the night advanced, a fierce wind arose from the woods, and quickly -dispersed the clouds that had loitered in the heavens: the blast tore -along like a mighty avalanche, and produced a kind of insanity in my -spirits, that burst all bounds of reason and reflection. I lighted the -dry branch of a tree, and danced with fury around the devoted cottage, -my eyes still fixed on the western horizon, the edge of which the moon -nearly touched. A part of its orb was at length hid, and I waved my -brand; it sunk, and, with a loud scream, I fired the straw, and heath, -and bushes, which I had collected. The wind fanned the fire, and the -cottage was quickly enveloped by the flames, which clung to it, and -licked it with their forked and destroying tongues. - -"As soon as I was convinced that no assistance could save any part of -the habitation, I quitted the scene, and sought for refuge in the woods. - -"And now, with the world before me, whither should I bend my steps? I -resolved to fly far from the scene of my misfortunes; but to me, hated -and despised, every country must be equally horrible. At length the -thought of you crossed my mind. I learned from your papers that you were -my father, my creator; and to whom could I apply with more fitness than -to him who had given me life? Among the lessons that Felix had bestowed -upon Safie, geography had not been omitted: I had learned from these the -relative situations of the different countries of the earth. You had -mentioned Geneva as the name of your native town; and towards this place -I resolved to proceed. - -"But how was I to direct myself? I knew that I must travel in a -south-westerly direction to reach my destination; but the sun was my -only guide. I did not know the names of the towns that I was to pass -through, nor could I ask information from a single human being; but I -did not despair. From you only could I hope for succour, although -towards you I felt no sentiment but that of hatred. Unfeeling, heartless -creator! you had endowed me with perceptions and passions, and then cast -me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind. But on you only -had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I determined to seek -that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from any other being that -wore the human form. - -"My travels were long, and the sufferings I endured intense. It was late -in autumn when I quitted the district where I had so long resided. I -travelled only at night, fearful of encountering the visage of a human -being. Nature decayed around me, and the sun became heatless; rain and -snow poured around me; mighty rivers were frozen; the surface of the -earth was hard and chill, and bare, and I found no shelter. Oh, earth! -how often did I imprecate curses on the cause of my being! The mildness -of my nature had fled, and all within me was turned to gall and -bitterness. The nearer I approached to your habitation, the more deeply -did I feel the spirit of revenge enkindled in my heart. Snow fell, and -the waters were hardened; but I rested not. A few incidents now and then -directed me, and I possessed a map of the country; but I often wandered -wide from my path. The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite: no -incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its -food; but a circumstance that happened when I arrived on the confines of -Switzerland, when the sun had recovered its warmth, and the earth again -began to look green, confirmed in an especial manner the bitterness and -horror of my feelings. - -"I generally rested during the day, and travelled only when I was -secured by night from the view of man. One morning, however, finding -that my path lay through a deep wood, I ventured to continue my journey -after the sun had risen; the day, which was one of the first of spring, -cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of -the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long -appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these -sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them; and, forgetting -my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy. Soft tears again bedewed -my cheeks, and I even raised my humid eyes with thankfulness towards the -blessed sun which bestowed such joy upon me. - -"I continued to wind among the paths of the wood, until I came to its -boundary, which was skirted by a deep and rapid river, into which many -of the trees bent their branches, now budding with the fresh spring. -Here I paused, not exactly knowing what path to pursue, when I heard the -sound of voices, that induced me to conceal myself under the shade of a -cypress. I was scarcely hid, when a young girl came running towards the -spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from some one in -sport. She continued her course along the precipitous sides of the -river, when suddenly her foot slipt, and she fell into the rapid -stream. I rushed from my hiding-place; and, with extreme labour from the -force of the current, saved her, and dragged her to shore. She was -senseless; and I endeavoured, by every means in my power, to restore -animation, when I was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a rustic, -who was probably the person from whom she had playfully fled. On seeing -me, he darted towards me, and tearing the girl from my arms, hastened -towards the deeper parts of the wood. I followed speedily, I hardly knew -why; but when the man saw me draw near, he aimed a gun, which he -carried, at my body, and fired. I sunk to the ground, and my injurer, -with increased swiftness, escaped into the wood. - -"This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being -from destruction, and, as a recompense, I now writhed under the -miserable pain of a wound, which shattered the flesh and bone. The -feelings of kindness and gentleness, which I had entertained but a few -moments before, gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. -Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. -But the agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted. - -"For some weeks I led a miserable life in the woods, endeavouring to -cure the wound which I had received. The ball had entered my shoulder, -and I knew not whether it had remained there or passed through; at any -rate I had no means of extracting it. My sufferings were augmented also -by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their -infliction. My daily vows rose for revenge--a deep and deadly revenge, -such as would alone compensate for the outrages and anguish I had -endured. - -"After some weeks my wound healed, and I continued my journey. The -labours I endured were no longer to be alleviated by the bright sun or -gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mockery, which insulted my -desolate state, and made me feel more painfully that I was not made for -the enjoyment of pleasure. - -"But my toils now drew near a close; and, in two months from this time, -I reached the environs of Geneva. - -"It was evening when I arrived, and I retired to a hiding-place among -the fields that surround it, to meditate in what manner I should apply -to you. I was oppressed by fatigue and hunger, and far too unhappy to -enjoy the gentle breezes of evening, or the prospect of the sun setting -behind the stupendous mountains of Jura. - -"At this time a slight sleep relieved me from the pain of reflection, -which was disturbed by the approach of a beautiful child, who came -running into the recess I had chosen, with all the sportiveness of -infancy. Suddenly, as I gazed on him, an idea seized me, that this -little creature was unprejudiced, and had lived too short a time to have -imbibed a horror of deformity. If, therefore, I could seize him, and -educate him as my companion and friend, I should not be so desolate in -this peopled earth. - -"Urged by this impulse, I seized on the boy as he passed, and drew him -towards me. As soon as he beheld my form, he placed his hands before his -eyes, and uttered a shrill scream: I drew his hand forcibly from his -face, and said, 'Child, what is the meaning of this? I do not intend to -hurt you; listen to me.' - -"He struggled violently. 'Let me go,' he cried; 'monster! ugly wretch! -you wish to eat me, and tear me to pieces--You are an ogre--Let me go, -or I will tell my papa.' - -"'Boy, you will never see your father again; you must come with me.' - -"'Hideous monster! let me go. My papa is a Syndic--he is M. -Frankenstein--he will punish you. You dare not keep me.' - -"'Frankenstein! you belong then to my enemy--to him towards whom I have -sworn eternal revenge; you shall be my first victim.' - -"The child still struggled, and loaded me with epithets which carried -despair to my heart; I grasped his throat to silence him, and in a -moment he lay dead at my feet. - -"I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish -triumph: clapping my hands, I exclaimed, 'I, too, can create desolation; -my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him, and -a thousand other miseries shall torment and destroy him.' - -"As I fixed my eyes on the child, I saw something glittering on his -breast. I took it; it was a portrait of a most lovely woman. In spite -of my malignity, it softened and attracted me. For a few moments I gazed -with delight on her dark eyes, fringed by deep lashes, and her lovely -lips; but presently my rage returned: I remembered that I was for ever -deprived of the delights that such beautiful creatures could bestow; and -that she whose resemblance I contemplated would, in regarding me, have -changed that air of divine benignity to one expressive of disgust and -affright. - -"Can you wonder that such thoughts transported me with rage? I only -wonder that at that moment, instead of venting my sensations in -exclamations and agony, I did not rush among mankind, and perish in the -attempt to destroy them. - -"While I was overcome by these feelings, I left the spot where I had -committed the murder, and seeking a more secluded hiding-place, I -entered a barn which had appeared to me to be empty. A woman was -sleeping on some straw; she was young: not indeed so beautiful as her -whose portrait I held; but of an agreeable aspect, and blooming in the -loveliness of youth and health. Here, I thought, is one of those whose -joy-imparting smiles are bestowed on all but me. And then I bent over -her, and whispered 'Awake, fairest, thy lover is near--he who would give -his life but to obtain one look of affection from thine eyes: my -beloved, awake!' - -"The sleeper stirred; a thrill of terror ran through me. Should she -indeed awake, and see me, and curse me, and denounce the murderer? Thus -would she assuredly act, if her darkened eyes opened, and she beheld me. -The thought was madness; it stirred the fiend within me--not I, but she -shall suffer: the murder I have committed because I am for ever robbed -of all that she could give me, she shall atone. The crime had its source -in her: be hers the punishment! Thanks to the lessons of Felix and the -sanguinary laws of man, I had learned now to work mischief. I bent over -her, and placed the portrait securely in one of the folds of her dress. -She moved again, and I fled. - -"For some days I haunted the spot where these scenes had taken place; -sometimes wishing to see you, sometimes resolved to quit the world and -its miseries for ever. At length I wandered towards these mountains, -and have ranged through their immense recesses, consumed by a burning -passion which you alone can gratify. We may not part until you have -promised to comply with my requisition. I am alone, and miserable; man -will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself -would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species, -and have the same defects. This being you must create." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -The being finished speaking, and fixed his looks upon me in expectation -of a reply. But I was bewildered, perplexed, and unable to arrange my -ideas sufficiently to understand the full extent of his proposition. He -continued-- - -"You must create a female for me, with whom I can live in the -interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being. This you alone -can do; and I demand it of you as a right which you must not refuse to -concede." - -The latter part of his tale had kindled anew in me the anger that had -died away while he narrated his peaceful life among the cottagers, and, -as he said this, I could no longer suppress the rage that burned within -me. - -"I do refuse it," I replied; "and no torture shall ever extort a consent -from me. You may render me the most miserable of men, but you shall -never make me base in my own eyes. Shall I create another like yourself, -whose joint wickedness might desolate the world. Begone! I have answered -you; you may torture me, but I will never consent." - -"You are in the wrong," replied the fiend; "and, instead of threatening, -I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am miserable. -Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear -me to pieces, and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity -man more than he pities me? You would not call it murder, if you could -precipitate me into one of those ice-rifts, and destroy my frame, the -work of your own hands. Shall I respect man, when he contemns me? Let -him live with me in the interchange of kindness; and, instead of injury, -I would bestow every benefit upon him with tears of gratitude at his -acceptance. But that cannot be; the human senses are insurmountable -barriers to our union. Yet mine shall not be the submission of abject -slavery. I will revenge my injuries: if I cannot inspire love, I will -cause fear; and chiefly towards you my arch-enemy, because my creator, -do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care: I will work at your -destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall -curse the hour of your birth." - -A fiendish rage animated him as he said this; his face was wrinkled into -contortions too horrible for human eyes to behold; but presently he -calmed himself and proceeded-- - -"I intended to reason. This passion is detrimental to me; for you do not -reflect that _you_ are the cause of its excess. If any being felt -emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them an hundred and -an hundred fold; for that one creature's sake, I would make peace with -the whole kind! But I now indulge in dreams of bliss that cannot be -realised. What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate; I demand a -creature of another sex, but as hideous as myself; the gratification is -small, but it is all that I can receive, and it shall content me. It is -true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that -account we shall be more attached to one another. Our lives will not be -happy, but they will be harmless, and free from the misery I now feel. -Oh! my creator, make me happy; let me feel gratitude towards you for one -benefit! Let me see that I excite the sympathy of some existing thing; -do not deny me my request!" - -I was moved. I shuddered when I thought of the possible consequences of -my consent; but I felt that there was some justice in his argument. His -tale, and the feelings he now expressed, proved him to be a creature of -fine sensations; and did I not as his maker, owe him all the portion of -happiness that it was in my power to bestow? He saw my change of -feeling, and continued-- - -"If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see us -again: I will go to the vast wilds of South America. My food is not that -of man; I do not destroy the lamb and the kid to glut my appetite; -acorns and berries afford me sufficient nourishment. My companion will -be of the same nature as myself, and will be content with the same fare. -We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on -man, and will ripen our food. The picture I present to you is peaceful -and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the -wantonness of power and cruelty. Pitiless as you have been towards me, I -now see compassion in your eyes; let me seize the favourable moment, and -persuade you to promise what I so ardently desire." - -"You propose," replied I, "to fly from the habitations of man, to dwell -in those wilds where the beasts of the field will be your only -companions. How can you, who long for the love and sympathy of man, -persevere in this exile? You will return, and again seek their kindness, -and you will meet with their detestation; your evil passions will be -renewed, and you will then have a companion to aid you in the task of -destruction. This may not be: cease to argue the point, for I cannot -consent." - -"How inconstant are your feelings! but a moment ago you were moved by my -representations, and why do you again harden yourself to my complaints? -I swear to you, by the earth which I inhabit, and by you that made me, -that, with the companion you bestow, I will quit the neighbourhood of -man, and dwell as it may chance, in the most savage of places. My evil -passions will have fled, for I shall meet with sympathy! my life will -flow quietly away, and, in my dying moments, I shall not curse my -maker." - -His words had a strange effect upon me. I compassionated him, and -sometimes felt a wish to console him; but when I looked upon him, when I -saw the filthy mass that moved and talked, my heart sickened, and my -feelings were altered to those of horror and hatred. I tried to stifle -these sensations; I thought, that as I could not sympathise with him, I -had no right to withhold from him the small portion of happiness which -was yet in my power to bestow. - -"You swear," I said, "to be harmless; but have you not already shown a -degree of malice that should reasonably make me distrust you? May not -even this be a feint that will increase your triumph by affording a -wider scope for your revenge." - -"How is this? I must not be trifled with: and I demand an answer. If I -have no ties and no affections, hatred and vice must be my portion; the -love of another will destroy the cause of my crimes, and I shall become -a thing, of whose existence every one will be ignorant. My vices are the -children of a forced solitude that I abhor; and my virtues will -necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal. I shall feel -the affections of a sensitive being, and become linked to the chain of -existence and events, from which I am now excluded." - -I paused some time to reflect on all he had related, and the various -arguments which he had employed. I thought of the promise of virtues -which he had displayed on the opening of his existence, and the -subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which -his protectors had manifested towards him. His power and threats were -not omitted in my calculations: a creature who could exist in the -ice-caves of the glaciers, and hide himself from pursuit among the -ridges of inaccessible precipices, was a being possessing faculties it -would be vain to cope with. After a long pause of reflection, I -concluded that the justice due both to him and my fellow-creatures -demanded of me that I should comply with his request. Turning to him, -therefore, I said-- - -"I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe for ever, -and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall -deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile." - -"I swear," he cried, "by the sun, and by the blue sky of Heaven, and by -the fire of love that burns my heart, that if you grant my prayer, while -they exist you shall never behold me again. Depart to your home, and -commence your labours: I shall watch their progress with unutterable -anxiety; and fear not but that when you are ready I shall appear." - -Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in -my sentiments. I saw him descend the mountain with greater speed than -the flight of an eagle, and quickly lost among the undulations of the -sea of ice. - -His tale had occupied the whole day; and the sun was upon the verge of -the horizon when he departed. I knew that I ought to hasten my descent -towards the valley, as I should soon be encompassed in darkness; but my -heart was heavy, and my steps slow. The labour of winding among the -little paths of the mountains, and fixing my feet firmly as I advanced, -perplexed me, occupied as I was by the emotions which the occurrences of -the day had produced. Night was far advanced, when I came to the -half-way resting-place, and seated myself beside the fountain. The stars -shone at intervals, as the clouds passed from over them; the dark pines -rose before me, and every here and there a broken tree lay on the -ground: it was a scene of wonderful solemnity, and stirred strange -thoughts within me. I wept bitterly; and clasping my hands in agony, I -exclaimed, "Oh! stars and clouds, and winds, ye are all about to mock -me: if ye really pity me, crush sensation and memory; let me become as -nought; but if not, depart, depart, and leave me in darkness." - -These were wild and miserable thoughts; but I cannot describe to you how -the eternal twinkling of the stars weighed upon me, and how I listened -to every blast of wind, as if it were a dull ugly siroc on its way to -consume me. - -Morning dawned before I arrived at the village of Chamounix; I took no -rest, but returned immediately to Geneva. Even in my own heart I could -give no expression to my sensations--they weighed on me with a -mountain's weight, and their excess destroyed my agony beneath them. -Thus I returned home, and entering the house, presented myself to the -family. My haggard and wild appearance awoke intense alarm; but I -answered no question, scarcely did I speak. I felt as if I were placed -under a ban--as if I had no right to claim their sympathies--as if never -more might I enjoy companionship with them. Yet even thus I loved them -to adoration; and to save them, I resolved to dedicate myself to my most -abhorred task. The prospect of such an occupation made every other -circumstance of existence pass before me like a dream; and that thought -only had to me the reality of life. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -Day after day, week after week, passed away on my return to Geneva; and -I could not collect the courage to recommence my work. I feared the -vengeance of the disappointed fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my -repugnance to the task which was enjoined me. I found that I could not -compose a female without again devoting several months to profound study -and laborious disquisition. I had heard of some discoveries having been -made by an English philosopher, the knowledge of which was material to -my success, and I sometimes thought of obtaining my father's consent to -visit England for this purpose; but I clung to every pretence of delay, -and shrunk from taking the first step in an undertaking whose immediate -necessity began to appear less absolute to me. A change indeed had taken -place in me: my health, which had hitherto declined, was now much -restored; and my spirits, when unchecked by the memory of my unhappy -promise, rose proportionably. My father saw this change with pleasure, -and he turned his thoughts towards the best method of eradicating the -remains of my melancholy, which every now and then would return by fits, -and with a devouring blackness overcast the approaching sunshine. At -these moments I took refuge in the most perfect solitude. I passed whole -days on the lake alone in a little boat, watching the clouds, and -listening to the rippling of the waves, silent and listless. But the -fresh air and bright sun seldom failed to restore me to some degree of -composure; and, on my return, I met the salutations of my friends with a -readier smile and a more cheerful heart. - -It was after my return from one of these rambles, that my father, -calling me aside, thus addressed me:-- - -"I am happy to remark, my dear son, that you have resumed your former -pleasures, and seem to be returning to yourself. And yet you are still -unhappy, and still avoid our society. For some time I was lost in -conjecture as to the cause of this; but yesterday an idea struck me, and -if it is well founded, I conjure you to avow it. Reserve on such a point -would be not only useless, but draw down treble misery on us all." - -I trembled violently at his exordium, and my father continued-- - -"I confess, my son, that I have always looked forward to your marriage -with our dear Elizabeth as the tie of our domestic comfort, and the stay -of my declining years. You were attached to each other from your -earliest infancy; you studied together, and appeared, in dispositions -and tastes, entirely suited to one another. But so blind is the -experience of man, that what I conceived to be the best assistants to my -plan, may have entirely destroyed it. You, perhaps, regard her as your -sister, without any wish that she might become your wife. Nay, you may -have met with another whom you may love; and, considering yourself as -bound in honour to Elizabeth, this struggle may occasion the poignant -misery which you appear to feel." - -"My dear father, reassure yourself. I love my cousin tenderly and -sincerely. I never saw any woman who excited, as Elizabeth does, my -warmest admiration and affection. My future hopes and prospects are -entirely bound up in the expectation of our union." - -"The expression of your sentiments of this subject, my dear Victor, -gives me more pleasure than I have for some time experienced. If you -feel thus, we shall assuredly be happy, however present events may cast -a gloom over us. But it is this gloom which appears to have taken so -strong a hold of your mind, that I wish to dissipate. Tell me, -therefore, whether you object to an immediate solemnisation of the -marriage. We have been unfortunate, and recent events have drawn us -from that every-day tranquillity befitting my years and infirmities. You -are younger; yet I do not suppose, possessed as you are of a competent -fortune, that an early marriage would at all interfere with any future -plans of honour and utility that you may have formed. Do not suppose, -however, that I wish to dictate happiness to you, or that a delay on -your part would cause me any serious uneasiness. Interpret my words with -candour, and answer me, I conjure you, with confidence and sincerity." - -I listened to my father in silence, and remained for some time incapable -of offering any reply. I revolved rapidly in my mind a multitude of -thoughts, and endeavoured to arrive at some conclusion. Alas! to me the -idea of an immediate union with my Elizabeth was one of horror and -dismay. I was bound by a solemn promise, which I had not yet fulfilled, -and dared not break; or, if I did, what manifold miseries might not -impend over me and my devoted family! Could I enter into a festival with -this deadly weight yet hanging round my neck, and bowing me to the -ground. I must perform my engagement, and let the monster depart with -his mate, before I allowed myself to enjoy the delight of an union from -which I expected peace. - -I remembered also the necessity imposed upon me of either journeying to -England, or entering into a long correspondence with those philosophers -of that country, whose knowledge and discoveries were of indispensable -use to me in my present undertaking. The latter method of obtaining the -desired intelligence was dilatory and unsatisfactory: besides, I had an -insurmountable aversion to the idea of engaging myself in my loathsome -task in my father's house, while in habits of familiar intercourse with -those I loved. I knew that a thousand fearful accidents might occur, the -slightest of which would disclose a tale to thrill all connected with me -with horror. I was aware also that I should often lose all self-command, -all capacity of hiding the harrowing sensations that would possess me -during the progress of my unearthly occupation. I must absent myself -from all I loved while thus employed. Once commenced, it would quickly -be achieved, and I might be restored to my family in peace and -happiness. My promise fulfilled, the monster would depart for ever. Or -(so my fond fancy imaged) some accident might meanwhile occur to destroy -him, and put an end to my slavery for ever. - -These feelings dictated my answer to my father. I expressed a wish to -visit England; but, concealing the true reasons of this request, I -clothed my desires under a guise which excited no suspicion, while I -urged my desire with an earnestness that easily induced my father to -comply. After so long a period of an absorbing melancholy, that -resembled madness in its intensity and effects, he was glad to find that -I was capable of taking pleasure in the idea of such a journey, and he -hoped that change of scene and varied amusement would, before my return, -have restored me entirely to myself. - -The duration of my absence was left to my own choice; a few months, or -at most a year, was the period contemplated. One paternal kind -precaution he had taken to ensure my having a companion. Without -previously communicating with me, he had, in concert with Elizabeth, -arranged that Clerval should join me at Strasburgh. This interfered with -the solitude I coveted for the prosecution of my task; yet at the -commencement of my journey the presence of my friend could in no way be -an impediment, and truly I rejoiced that thus I should be saved many -hours of lonely, maddening reflection. Nay, Henry might stand between me -and the intrusion of my foe. If I were alone, would he not at times -force his abhorred presence on me, to remind me of my task, or to -contemplate its progress? - -To England, therefore, I was bound, and it was understood that my union -with Elizabeth should take place immediately on my return. My father's -age rendered him extremely averse to delay. For myself, there was one -reward I promised myself from my detested toils--one consolation for my -unparalleled sufferings; it was the prospect of that day when, -enfranchised from my miserable slavery, I might claim Elizabeth, and -forget the past in my union with her. - -I now made arrangements for my journey; but one feeling haunted me, -which filled me with fear and agitation. During my absence I should -leave my friends unconscious of the existence of their enemy, and -unprotected from his attacks, exasperated as he might be by my -departure. But he had promised to follow me wherever I might go; and -would he not accompany me to England? This imagination was dreadful in -itself, but soothing, inasmuch as it supposed the safety of my friends. -I was agonised with the idea of the possibility that the reverse of this -might happen. But through the whole period during which I was the slave -of my creature, I allowed myself to be governed by the impulses of the -moment; and my present sensations strongly intimated that the fiend -would follow me, and exempt my family from the danger of his -machinations. - -It was in the latter end of September that I again quitted my native -country. My journey had been my own suggestion, and Elizabeth, -therefore, acquiesced: but she was filled with disquiet at the idea of -my suffering, away from her, the inroads of misery and grief. It had -been her care which provided me a companion in Clerval--and yet a man is -blind to a thousand minute circumstances, which call forth a woman's -sedulous attention. She longed to bid me hasten my return,--a thousand -conflicting emotions rendered her mute, as she bade me a tearful silent -farewell. - -I threw myself into the carriage that was to convey me away, hardly -knowing whither I was going, and careless of what was passing around. I -remembered only, and it was with a bitter anguish that I reflected on -it, to order that my chemical instruments should be packed to go with -me. Filled with dreary imaginations, I passed through many beautiful and -majestic scenes; but my eyes were fixed and unobserving. I could only -think of the bourne of my travels, and the work which was to occupy me -whilst they endured. - -After some days spent in listless indolence, during which I traversed -many leagues, I arrived at Strasburgh, where I waited two days for -Clerval. He came. Alas, how great was the contrast between us! He was -alive to every new scene; joyful when he saw the beauties of the setting -sun, and more happy when he beheld it rise, and recommence a new day. -He pointed out to me the shifting colours of the landscape, and the -appearances of the sky. "This is what it is to live," he cried, "now I -enjoy existence! But you, my dear Frankenstein, wherefore are you -desponding and sorrowful!" In truth, I was occupied by gloomy thoughts, -and neither saw the descent of the evening star, nor the golden sunrise -reflected in the Rhine.--And you, my friend, would be far more amused -with the journal of Clerval, who observed the scenery with an eye of -feeling and delight, than in listening to my reflections. I, a miserable -wretch, haunted by a curse that shut up every avenue to enjoyment. - -We had agreed to descend the Rhine in a boat from Strasburgh to -Rotterdam, whence we might take shipping for London. During this voyage, -we passed many willowy islands, and saw several beautiful towns. We -stayed a day at Manheim, and, on the fifth from our departure from -Strasburgh, arrived at Mayence. The course of the Rhine below Mayence -becomes much more picturesque. The river descends rapidly, and winds -between hills, not high, but steep, and of beautiful forms. We saw many -ruined castles standing on the edges of precipices, surrounded by black -woods, high and inaccessible. This part of the Rhine, indeed, presents a -singularly variegated landscape. In one spot you view rugged hills, -ruined castles overlooking tremendous precipices, with the dark Rhine -rushing beneath; and, on the sudden turn of a promontory, flourishing -vineyards, with green sloping banks, and a meandering river, and -populous towns occupy the scene. - -We travelled at the time of the vintage, and heard the song of the -labourers, as we glided down the stream. Even I, depressed in mind, and -my spirits continually agitated by gloomy feelings, even I was pleased. -I lay at the bottom of the boat, and, as I gazed on the cloudless blue -sky, I seemed to drink in a tranquillity to which I had long been a -stranger. And if these were my sensations, who can describe those of -Henry? He felt as if he had been transported to Fairy-land, and enjoyed -a happiness seldom tasted by man. "I have seen," he said, "the most -beautiful scenes of my own country; I have visited the lakes of Lucerne -and Uri, where the snowy mountains descend almost perpendicularly to the -water, casting black and impenetrable shades, which would cause a gloomy -and mournful appearance, were it not for the most verdant islands that -relieve the eye by their gay appearance; I have seen this lake agitated -by a tempest, when the wind tore up whirlwinds of water, and gave you an -idea of what the water-spout must be on the great ocean; and the waves -dash with fury the base of the mountain, where the priest and his -mistress were overwhelmed by an avalanche, and where their dying voices -are still said to be heard amid the pauses of the nightly wind; I have -seen the mountains of La Valais, and the Pays de Vaud: but this country, -Victor, pleases me more than all those wonders. The mountains of -Switzerland are more majestic and strange; but there is a charm in the -banks of this divine river, that I never before saw equalled. Look at -that castle which overhangs yon precipice; and that also on the island, -almost concealed amongst the foliage of those lovely trees; and now that -group of labourers coming from among their vines; and that village half -hid in the recess of the mountain. Oh, surely, the spirit that inhabits -and guards this place has a soul more in harmony with man, than those -who pile the glacier, or retire to the inaccessible peaks of the -mountains of our own country." - -Clerval! beloved friend! even now it delights me to record your words, -and to dwell on the praise of which you are so eminently deserving. He -was a being formed in the "very poetry of nature." His wild and -enthusiastic imagination was chastened by the sensibility of his heart. -His soul overflowed with ardent affections, and his friendship was of -that devoted and wondrous nature that the worldly-minded teach us to -look for only in the imagination. But even human sympathies were not -sufficient to satisfy his eager mind. The scenery of external nature, -which others regard only with admiration, he loved with ardour:-- - - ----"The sounding cataract - Haunted him like a passion: the tall rock, - The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, - Their colours and their forms, were then to him - An appetite; a feeling, and a love, - That had no need of a remoter charm, - By thought supplied, or any interest - Unborrow'd from the eye"[3] - -[Footnote 3: Wordsworth's Tintern Abbey.] - -And where does he now exist? Is this gentle and lovely being lost for -ever? Has this mind, so replete with ideas, imaginations fanciful and -magnificent, which formed a world, whose existence depended on the life -of its creator;--has this mind perished? Does it now only exist in my -memory? No, it is not thus; your form so divinely wrought, and beaming -with beauty, has decayed, but your spirit still visits and consoles your -unhappy friend. - -Pardon this gush of sorrow; these ineffectual words are but a slight -tribute to the unexampled worth of Henry, but they soothe my heart, -overflowing with the anguish which his remembrance creates. I will -proceed with my tale. - -Beyond Cologne we descended to the plains of Holland; and we resolved to -post the remainder of our way; for the wind was contrary, and the stream -of the river was too gentle to aid us. - -Our journey here lost the interest arising from beautiful scenery; but -we arrived in a few days at Rotterdam, whence we proceeded by sea to -England. It was on a clear morning, in the latter days of December, that -I first saw the white cliffs of Britain. The banks of the Thames -presented a new scene; they were flat, but fertile, and almost every -town was marked by the remembrance of some story. We saw Tilbury Fort, -and remembered the Spanish armada; Gravesend, Woolwich, and Greenwich, -places which I had heard of even in my country. - -At length we saw the numerous steeples of London, St. Paul's towering -above all, and the Tower famed in English history. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -London was our present point of rest; we determined to remain several -months in this wonderful and celebrated city. Clerval desired the -intercourse of the men of genius and talent who flourished at this time; -but this was with me a secondary object; I was principally occupied with -the means of obtaining the information necessary for the completion of -my promise, and quickly availed myself of the letters of introduction -that I had brought with me, addressed to the most distinguished natural -philosophers. - -If this journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness, -it would have afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had come -over my existence, and I only visited these people for the sake of the -information they might give me on the subject in which my interest was -so terribly profound. Company was irksome to me; when alone, I could -fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth; the voice of Henry -soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory peace. But -busy uninteresting joyous faces brought back despair to my heart. I saw -an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my fellow-men; this -barrier was sealed with the blood of William and Justine; and to reflect -on the events connected with those names filled my soul with anguish. - -But in Clerval I saw the image of my former self; he was inquisitive, -and anxious to gain experience and instruction. The difference of -manners which he observed was to him an inexhaustible source of -instruction and amusement. He was also pursuing an object he had long -had in view. His design was to visit India, in the belief that he had in -his knowledge of its various languages, and in the views he had taken of -its society, the means of materially assisting the progress of European -colonisation and trade. In Britain only could he further the execution -of his plan. He was for ever busy; and the only check to his enjoyments -was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this as much as -possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one, -who was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by any care or -bitter recollection. I often refused to accompany him, alleging another -engagement, that I might remain alone. I now also began to collect the -materials necessary for my new creation, and this was to me like the -torture of single drops of water continually falling on the head. Every -thought that was devoted to it was an extreme anguish, and every word -that I spoke in allusion to it caused my lips to quiver, and my heart to -palpitate. - -After passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person -in Scotland, who had formerly been our visiter at Geneva. He mentioned -the beauties of his native country, and asked us if those were not -sufficient allurements to induce us to prolong our journey as far north -as Perth, where he resided. Clerval eagerly desired to accept this -invitation; and I, although I abhorred society, wished to view again -mountains and streams, and all the wondrous works with which Nature -adorns her chosen dwelling-places. - -We had arrived in England at the beginning of October, and it was now -February. We accordingly determined to commence our journey towards the -north at the expiration of another month. In this expedition we did not -intend to follow the great road to Edinburgh, but to visit Windsor, -Oxford, Matlock, and the Cumberland lakes, resolving to arrive at the -completion of this tour about the end of July. I packed up my chemical -instruments, and the materials I had collected, resolving to finish my -labours in some obscure nook in the northern highlands of Scotland. - -We quitted London on the 27th of March, and remained a few days at -Windsor, rambling in its beautiful forest. This was a new scene to us -mountaineers; the majestic oaks, the quantity of game, and the herds of -stately deer, were all novelties to us. - -From thence we proceeded to Oxford. As we entered this city, our minds -were filled with the remembrance of the events that had been transacted -there more than a century and a half before. It was here that Charles I. -had collected his forces. This city had remained faithful to him, after -the whole nation had forsaken his cause to join the standard of -parliament and liberty. The memory of that unfortunate king, and his -companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent Goring, his queen, and -son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city, which they -might be supposed to have inhabited. The spirit of elder days found a -dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these -feelings had not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of the -city had yet in itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration. The -colleges are ancient and picturesque; the streets are almost -magnificent; and the lovely Isis, which flows beside it through meadows -of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a placid expanse of waters, -which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers, and spires, and domes, -embosomed among aged trees. - -I enjoyed this scene; and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the -memory of the past, and the anticipation of the future. I was formed for -peaceful happiness. During my youthful days discontent never visited my -mind; and if I was ever overcome by _ennui_, the sight of what is -beautiful in nature, or the study of what is excellent and sublime in -the productions of man, could always interest my heart, and communicate -elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered -my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit, what I shall -soon cease to be--a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to -others, and intolerable to myself. - -We passed a considerable period at Oxford, rambling among its environs, -and endeavouring to identify every spot which might relate to the most -animating epoch of English history. Our little voyages of discovery were -often prolonged by the successive objects that presented themselves. We -visited the tomb of the illustrious Hampden, and the field on which that -patriot fell. For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and -miserable fears, to contemplate the divine ideas of liberty and -self-sacrifice, of which these sights were the monuments and the -remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains, and look -around me with a free and lofty spirit; but the iron had eaten into my -flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self. - -We left Oxford with regret, and proceeded to Matlock, which was our next -place of rest. The country in the neighbourhood of this village -resembled, to a greater degree, the scenery of Switzerland; but every -thing is on a lower scale, and the green hills want the crown of distant -white Alps, which always attend on the piny mountains of my native -country. We visited the wondrous cave, and the little cabinets of -natural history, where the curiosities are disposed in the same manner -as in the collections at Servox and Chamounix. The latter name made me -tremble, when pronounced by Henry; and I hastened to quit Matlock, with -which that terrible scene was thus associated. - -From Derby, still journeying northward, we passed two months in -Cumberland and Westmorland. I could now almost fancy myself among the -Swiss mountains. The little patches of snow which yet lingered on the -northern sides of the mountains, the lakes, and the dashing of the rocky -streams, were all familiar and dear sights to me. Here also we made some -acquaintances, who almost contrived to cheat me into happiness. The -delight of Clerval was proportionably greater than mine; his mind -expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found in his own nature -greater capacities and resources than he could have imagined himself to -have possessed while he associated with his inferiors. "I could pass my -life here," said he to me; "and among these mountains I should scarcely -regret Switzerland and the Rhine." - -But he found that a traveller's life is one that includes much pain -amidst its enjoyments. His feelings are for ever on the stretch; and -when he begins to sink into repose, he finds himself obliged to quit -that on which he rests in pleasure for something new, which again -engages his attention, and which also he forsakes for other novelties. - -We had scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmorland, -and conceived an affection for some of the inhabitants, when the period -of our appointment with our Scotch friend approached, and we left them -to travel on. For my own part I was not sorry. I had now neglected my -promise for some time, and I feared the effects of the dæmon's -disappointment. He might remain in Switzerland, and wreak his vengeance -on my relatives. This idea pursued me, and tormented me at every moment -from which I might otherwise have snatched repose and peace. I waited -for my letters with feverish impatience: if they were delayed, I was -miserable, and overcome by a thousand fears; and when they arrived, and -I saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to -read and ascertain my fate. Sometimes I thought that the fiend followed -me, and might expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. When -these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but -followed him as his shadow, to protect him from the fancied rage of his -destroyer. I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the -consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed -drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal as that of crime. - -I visited Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind; and yet that city might -have interested the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so -well as Oxford: for the antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing -to him. But the beauty and regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, its -romantic castle, and its environs, the most delightful in the world, -Arthur's Seat, St. Bernard's Well, and the Pentland Hills, compensated -him for the change, and filled him with cheerfulness and admiration. But -I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey. - -We left Edinburgh in a week, passing through Coupar, St. Andrew's, and -along the banks of the Tay, to Perth, where our friend expected us. But -I was in no mood to laugh and talk with strangers, or enter into their -feelings or plans with the good humour expected from a guest; and -accordingly I told Clerval that I wished to make the tour of Scotland -alone. "Do you," said I, "enjoy yourself, and let this be our -rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two; but do not interfere with my -motions, I entreat you: leave me to peace and solitude for a short time; -and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart, more -congenial to your own temper." - -Henry wished to dissuade me; but, seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to -remonstrate. He entreated me to write often. "I had rather be with you," -he said, "in your solitary rambles, than with these Scotch people, whom -I do not know: hasten then, my dear friend, to return, that I may again -feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence." - -Having parted from my friend, I determined to visit some remote spot of -Scotland, and finish my work in solitude. I did not doubt but that the -monster followed me, and would discover himself to me when I should have -finished, that he might receive his companion. - -With this resolution I traversed the northern highlands, and fixed on -one of the remotest of the Orkneys as the scene of my labours. It was a -place fitted for such a work, being hardly more than a rock, whose high -sides were continually beaten upon by the waves. The soil was barren, -scarcely affording pasture for a few miserable cows, and oatmeal for its -inhabitants, which consisted of five persons, whose gaunt and scraggy -limbs gave tokens of their miserable fare. Vegetables and bread, when -they indulged in such luxuries, and even fresh water, was to be procured -from the main land, which was about five miles distant. - -On the whole island there were but three miserable huts, and one of -these was vacant when I arrived. This I hired. It contained but two -rooms, and these exhibited all the squalidness of the most miserable -penury. The thatch had fallen in, the walls were unplastered, and the -door was off its hinges. I ordered it to be repaired, bought some -furniture, and took possession; an incident which would, doubtless, have -occasioned some surprise, had not all the senses of the cottagers been -benumbed by want and squalid poverty. As it was, I lived ungazed at and -unmolested, hardly thanked for the pittance of food and clothes which I -gave; so much does suffering blunt even the coarsest sensations of men. - -In this retreat I devoted the morning to labour; but in the evening, -when the weather permitted, I walked on the stony beach of the sea, to -listen to the waves as they roared and dashed at my feet. It was a -monotonous yet ever-changing scene. I thought of Switzerland; it was -far different from this desolate and appalling landscape. Its hills are -covered with vines, and its cottages are scattered thickly in the -plains. Its fair lakes reflect a blue and gentle sky; and, when troubled -by the winds, their tumult is but as the play of a lively infant, when -compared to the roarings of the giant ocean. - -In this manner I distributed my occupations when I first arrived; but, -as I proceeded in my labour, it became every day more horrible and -irksome to me. Sometimes I could not prevail on myself to enter my -laboratory for several days; and at other times I toiled day and night -in order to complete my work. It was, indeed, a filthy process in which -I was engaged. During my first experiment, a kind of enthusiastic frenzy -had blinded me to the horror of my employment; my mind was intently -fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes were shut to the -horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in cold blood, and my -heart often sickened at the work of my hands. - -Thus situated, employed in the most detestable occupation, immersed in a -solitude where nothing could for an instant call my attention from the -actual scene in which I was engaged, my spirits became unequal; I grew -restless and nervous. Every moment I feared to meet my persecutor. -Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed on the ground, fearing to raise them, -lest they should encounter the object which I so much dreaded to behold. -I feared to wander from the sight of my fellow-creatures, lest when -alone he should come to claim his companion. - -In the mean time I worked on, and my labour was already considerably -advanced. I looked towards its completion with a tremulous and eager -hope, which I dared not trust myself to question, but which was -intermixed with obscure forebodings of evil, that made my heart sicken -in my bosom. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -I sat one evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was -just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, -and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should -leave my labour for the night, or hasten its conclusion by an -unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to -me, which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. Three -years before I was engaged in the same manner, and had created a fiend -whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart, and filled it for -ever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being, -of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten -thousand times more malignant than her mate, and delight, for its own -sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood -of man, and hide himself in deserts; but she had not; and she, who in -all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might -refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might -even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own -deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it -came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with -disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and -he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being -deserted by one of his own species. - -Even if they were to leave Europe, and inhabit the deserts of the new -world, yet one of the first results of those sympathies for which the -dæmon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be -propagated upon the earth, who might make the very existence of the -species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, -for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations? -I had before been moved by the sophisms of the being I had created; I -had been struck senseless by his fiendish threats: but now, for the -first time, the wickedness of my promise burst upon me; I shuddered to -think that future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness -had not hesitated to buy its own peace at the price, perhaps, of the -existence of the whole human race. - -I trembled, and my heart failed within me; when, on looking up, I saw, -by the light of the moon, the dæmon at the casement. A ghastly grin -wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task -which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had followed me in my travels; he -had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken refuge in wide -and desert heaths; and he now came to mark my progress, and claim the -fulfilment of my promise. - -As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of -malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my -promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, -tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged. The wretch saw me -destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for -happiness, and, with a howl of devilish despair and revenge, withdrew. - -I left the room, and, locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own -heart never to resume my labours; and then, with trembling steps, I -sought my own apartment. I was alone; none were near me to dissipate the -gloom, and relieve me from the sickening oppression of the most terrible -reveries. - -Several hours passed, and I remained near my window gazing on the sea; -it was almost motionless, for the winds were hushed, and all nature -reposed under the eye of the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone -specked the water, and now and then the gentle breeze wafted the sound -of voices, as the fishermen called to one another. I felt the silence, -although I was hardly conscious of its extreme profundity, until my ear -was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the shore, and a -person landed close to my house. - -In a few minutes after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if some one -endeavoured to open it softly. I trembled from head to foot; I felt a -presentiment of who it was, and wished to rouse one of the peasants who -dwelt in a cottage not far from mine; but I was overcome by the -sensation of helplessness, so often felt in frightful dreams, when you -in vain endeavour to fly from an impending danger, and was rooted to the -spot. - -Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the passage; the door -opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared. Shutting the door, he -approached me, and said, in a smothered voice-- - -"You have destroyed the work which you began; what is it that you -intend? Do you dare to break your promise? I have endured toil and -misery: I left Switzerland with you; I crept along the shores of the -Rhine, among its willow islands, and over the summits of its hills. I -have dwelt many months in the heaths of England, and among the deserts -of Scotland. I have endured incalculable fatigue, and cold, and hunger; -do you dare destroy my hopes?" - -"Begone! I do break my promise; never will I create another like -yourself, equal in deformity and wickedness." - -"Slave, I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself -unworthy of my condescension. Remember that I have power; you believe -yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day -will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your -master;--obey!" - -"The hour of my irresolution is past, and the period of your power is -arrived. Your threats cannot move me to do an act of wickedness; but -they confirm me in a determination of not creating you a companion in -vice. Shall I, in cool blood, set loose upon the earth a dæmon, whose -delight is in death and wretchedness? Begone! I am firm, and your words -will only exasperate my rage." - -The monster saw my determination in my face, and gnashed his teeth in -the impotence of anger. "Shall each man," cried he, "find a wife for his -bosom, and each beast have his mate, and I be alone? I had feelings of -affection, and they were requited by detestation and scorn. Man! you may -hate; but beware! your hours will pass in dread and misery, and soon the -bolt will fall which must ravish from you your happiness for ever. Are -you to be happy, while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness? -You can blast my other passions; but revenge remains--revenge, -henceforth dearer than light or food! I may die; but first you, my -tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes on your misery. -Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful. I will watch with the -wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall -repent of the injuries you inflict." - -"Devil, cease; and do not poison the air with these sounds of malice. I -have declared my resolution to you, and I am no coward to bend beneath -words. Leave me; I am inexorable." - -"It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your -wedding-night." - -I started forward, and exclaimed, "Villain! before you sign my -death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe." - -I would have seized him; but he eluded me, and quitted the house with -precipitation. In a few moments I saw him in his boat, which shot across -the waters with an arrowy swiftness, and was soon lost amidst the waves. - -All was again silent; but his words rung in my ears. I burned with rage -to pursue the murderer of my peace, and precipitate him into the ocean. -I walked up and down my room hastily and perturbed, while my imagination -conjured up a thousand images to torment and sting me. Why had I not -followed him, and closed with him in mortal strife? But I had suffered -him to depart, and he had directed his course towards the main land. I -shuddered to think who might be the next victim sacrificed to his -insatiate revenge. And then I thought again of his words--"_I will be -with you on your wedding-night._" That then was the period fixed for the -fulfilment of my destiny. In that hour I should die, and at once satisfy -and extinguish his malice. The prospect did not move me to fear; yet -when I thought of my beloved Elizabeth,--of her tears and endless -sorrow, when she should find her lover so barbarously snatched from -her,--tears, the first I had shed for many months, streamed from my -eyes, and I resolved not to fall before my enemy without a bitter -struggle. - -The night passed away, and the sun rose from the ocean; my feelings -became calmer, if it may be called calmness when the violence of rage -sinks into the depths of despair. I left the house, the horrid scene of -the last night's contention, and walked on the beach of the sea, which I -almost regarded as an insuperable barrier between me and my -fellow-creatures; nay, a wish that such should prove the fact stole -across me. I desired that I might pass my life on that barren rock, -wearily, it is true, but uninterrupted by any sudden shock of misery. If -I returned, it was to be sacrificed, or to see those whom I most loved -die under the grasp of a dæmon whom I had myself created. - -I walked about the isle like a restless spectre, separated from all it -loved, and miserable in the separation. When it became noon, and the sun -rose higher, I lay down on the grass, and was overpowered by a deep -sleep. I had been awake the whole of the preceding night, my nerves were -agitated, and my eyes inflamed by watching and misery. The sleep into -which I now sunk refreshed me; and when I awoke, I again felt as if I -belonged to a race of human beings like myself, and I began to reflect -upon what had passed with greater composure; yet still the words of the -fiend rung in my ears like a death-knell, they appeared like a dream, -yet distinct and oppressive as a reality. - -The sun had far descended, and I still sat on the shore, satisfying my -appetite, which had become ravenous, with an oaten cake, when I saw a -fishing-boat land close to me, and one of the men brought me a packet; -it contained letters from Geneva, and one from Clerval, entreating me to -join him. He said that he was wearing away his time fruitlessly where he -was; that letters from the friends he had formed in London desired his -return to complete the negotiation they had entered into for his Indian -enterprise. He could not any longer delay his departure; but as his -journey to London might be followed, even sooner than he now -conjectured, by his longer voyage, he entreated me to bestow as much of -my society on him as I could spare. He besought me, therefore, to leave -my solitary isle, and to meet him at Perth, that we might proceed -southwards together. This letter in a degree recalled me to life, and I -determined to quit my island at the expiration of two days. - -Yet, before I departed, there was a task to perform, on which I -shuddered to reflect: I must pack up my chemical instruments; and for -that purpose I must enter the room which had been the scene of my odious -work, and I must handle those utensils, the sight of which was sickening -to me. The next morning, at daybreak, I summoned sufficient courage, and -unlocked the door of my laboratory. The remains of the half-finished -creature, whom I had destroyed, lay scattered on the floor, and I almost -felt as if I had mangled the living flesh of a human being. I paused to -collect myself, and then entered the chamber. With trembling hand I -conveyed the instruments out of the room; but I reflected that I ought -not to leave the relics of my work to excite the horror and suspicion of -the peasants; and I accordingly put them into a basket, with a great -quantity of stones, and, laying them up, determined to throw them into -the sea that very night; and in the mean time I sat upon the beach, -employed in cleaning and arranging my chemical apparatus. - -Nothing could be more complete than the alteration that had taken place -in my feelings since the night of the appearance of the dæmon. I had -before regarded my promise with a gloomy despair, as a thing that, with -whatever consequences, must be fulfilled; but I now felt as if a film -had been taken from before my eyes, and that I, for the first time, saw -clearly. The idea of renewing my labours did not for one instant occur -to me; the threat I had heard weighed on my thoughts, but I did not -reflect that a voluntary act of mine could avert it. I had resolved in -my own mind, that to create another like the fiend I had first made -would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness; and I -banished from my mind every thought that could lead to a different -conclusion. - -Between two and three in the morning the moon rose; and I then, putting -my basket aboard a little skiff, sailed out about four miles from the -shore. The scene was perfectly solitary: a few boats were returning -towards land, but I sailed away from them. I felt as if I was about the -commission of a dreadful crime, and avoided with shuddering anxiety any -encounter with my fellow-creatures. At one time the moon, which had -before been clear, was suddenly overspread by a thick cloud, and I took -advantage of the moment of darkness, and cast my basket into the sea: I -listened to the gurgling sound as it sunk, and then sailed away from the -spot. The sky became clouded; but the air was pure, although chilled by -the north-east breeze that was then rising. But it refreshed me, and -filled me with such agreeable sensations, that I resolved to prolong my -stay on the water; and, fixing the rudder in a direct position, -stretched myself at the bottom of the boat. Clouds hid the moon, every -thing was obscure, and I heard only the sound of the boat, as its keel -cut through the waves; the murmur lulled me, and in a short time I slept -soundly. - -I do not know how long I remained in this situation, but when I awoke I -found that the sun had already mounted considerably. The wind was high, -and the waves continually threatened the safety of my little skiff. I -found that the wind was north-east, and must have driven me far from the -coast from which I had embarked. I endeavoured to change my course, but -quickly found that, if I again made the attempt, the boat would be -instantly filled with water. Thus situated, my only resource was to -drive before the wind. I confess that I felt a few sensations of terror. -I had no compass with me, and was so slenderly acquainted with the -geography of this part of the world, that the sun was of little benefit -to me. I might be driven into the wide Atlantic, and feel all the -tortures of starvation, or be swallowed up in the immeasurable waters -that roared and buffeted around me. I had already been out many hours, -and felt the torment of a burning thirst, a prelude to my other -sufferings. I looked on the heavens, which were covered by clouds that -flew before the wind, only to be replaced by others: I looked upon the -sea, it was to be my grave. "Fiend," I exclaimed, "your task is already -fulfilled!" I thought of Elizabeth, of my father, and of Clerval; all -left behind, on whom the monster might satisfy his sanguinary and -merciless passions. This idea plunged me into a reverie, so despairing -and frightful, that even now, when the scene is on the point of closing -before me for ever, I shudder to reflect on it. - -Some hours passed thus; but by degrees, as the sun declined towards the -horizon, the wind died away into a gentle breeze, and the sea became -free from breakers. But these gave place to a heavy swell: I felt sick, -and hardly able to hold the rudder, when suddenly I saw a line of high -land towards the south. - -Almost spent, as I was, by fatigue, and the dreadful suspense I endured -for several hours, this sudden certainty of life rushed like a flood of -warm joy to my heart, and tears gushed from my eyes. - -How mutable are our feelings, and how strange is that clinging love we -have of life even in the excess of misery! I constructed another sail -with a part of my dress, and eagerly steered my course towards the land. -It had a wild and rocky appearance; but, as I approached nearer, I -easily perceived the traces of cultivation. I saw vessels near the -shore, and found myself suddenly transported back to the neighbourhood -of civilised man. I carefully traced the windings of the land, and -hailed a steeple which I at length saw issuing from behind a small -promontory. As I was in a state of extreme debility, I resolved to sail -directly towards the town, as a place where I could most easily procure -nourishment. Fortunately I had money with me. As I turned the -promontory, I perceived a small neat town and a good harbour, which I -entered, my heart bounding with joy at my unexpected escape. - -As I was occupied in fixing the boat and arranging the sails, several -people crowded towards the spot. They seemed much surprised at my -appearance; but, instead of offering me any assistance, whispered -together with gestures that at any other time might have produced in me -a slight sensation of alarm. As it was, I merely remarked that they -spoke English; and I therefore addressed them in that language: "My good -friends," said I, "will you be so kind as to tell me the name of this -town, and inform me where I am?" - -"You will know that soon enough," replied a man with a hoarse voice. -"May be you are come to a place that will not prove much to your taste; -but you will not be consulted as to your quarters, I promise you." - -I was exceedingly surprised on receiving so rude an answer from a -stranger; and I was also disconcerted on perceiving the frowning and -angry countenances of his companions. "Why do you answer me so roughly?" -I replied; "surely it is not the custom of Englishmen to receive -strangers so inhospitably." - -"I do not know," said the man, "what the custom of the English may be; -but is the custom of the Irish to hate villains." - -While this strange dialogue continued, I perceived the crowd rapidly -increase. Their faces expressed a mixture of curiosity and anger, which -annoyed, and in some degree alarmed me. I enquired the way to the inn; -but no one replied. I then moved forward, and a murmuring sound arose -from the crowd as they followed and surrounded me; when an ill-looking -man approaching, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Come, Sir, you -must follow me to Mr. Kirwin's, to give an account of yourself." - -"Who is Mr. Kirwin? Why am I to give an account of myself? Is not this a -free country?" - -"Ay, sir, free enough for honest folks. Mr. Kirwin is a magistrate; and -you are to give an account of the death of a gentleman who was found -murdered here last night." - -This answer startled me; but I presently recovered myself. I was -innocent; that could easily be proved: accordingly I followed my -conductor in silence, and was led to one of the best houses in the town. -I was ready to sink from fatigue and hunger; but, being surrounded by a -crowd, I thought it politic to rouse all my strength, that no physical -debility might be construed into apprehension or conscious guilt. Little -did I then expect the calamity that was in a few moments to overwhelm -me, and extinguish in horror and despair all fear of ignominy or death. - -I must pause here; for it requires all my fortitude to recall the memory -of the frightful events which I am about to relate, in proper detail, to -my recollection. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -I was soon introduced into the presence of the magistrate, an old -benevolent man, with calm and mild manners. He looked upon me, however, -with some degree of severity: and then, turning towards my conductors, -he asked who appeared as witnesses on this occasion. - -About half a dozen men came forward; and, one being selected by the -magistrate, he deposed, that he had been out fishing the night before -with his son and brother-in-law, Daniel Nugent, when, about ten o'clock, -they observed a strong northerly blast rising, and they accordingly put -in for port. It was a very dark night, as the moon had not yet risen; -they did not land at the harbour, but, as they had been accustomed, at a -creek about two miles below. He walked on first, carrying a part of the -fishing tackle, and his companions followed him at some distance. As he -was proceeding along the sands, he struck his foot against something, -and fell at his length on the ground. His companions came up to assist -him; and, by the light of their lantern, they found that he had fallen -on the body of a man, who was to all appearance dead. Their first -supposition was, that it was the corpse of some person who had been -drowned, and was thrown on shore by the waves; but, on examination, they -found that the clothes were not wet, and even that the body was not then -cold. They instantly carried it to the cottage of an old woman near the -spot, and endeavoured, but in vain, to restore it to life. It appeared -to be a handsome young man, about five and twenty years of age. He had -apparently been strangled; for there was no sign of any violence, except -the black mark of fingers on his neck. - -The first part of this deposition did not in the least interest me; but -when the mark of the fingers was mentioned, I remembered the murder of -my brother, and felt myself extremely agitated; my limbs trembled, and a -mist came over my eyes, which obliged me to lean on a chair for -support. The magistrate observed me with a keen eye, and of course drew -an unfavourable augury from my manner. - -The son confirmed his father's account: but when Daniel Nugent was -called, he swore positively that, just before the fall of his companion, -he saw a boat, with a single man in it, at a short distance from the -shore; and, as far as he could judge by the light of a few stars, it was -the same boat in which I had just landed. - -A woman deposed, that she lived near the beach, and was standing at the -door of her cottage, waiting for the return of the fishermen, about an -hour before she heard of the discovery of the body, when she saw a boat, -with only one man in it, push off from that part of the shore where the -corpse was afterwards found. - -Another woman confirmed the account of the fishermen having brought the -body into her house; it was not cold. They put it into a bed, and rubbed -it; and Daniel went to the town for an apothecary, but life was quite -gone. - -Several other men were examined concerning my landing; and they agreed, -that, with the strong north wind that had arisen during the night, it -was very probable that I had beaten about for many hours, and had been -obliged to return nearly to the same spot from which I had departed. -Besides, they observed that it appeared that I had brought the body from -another place, and it was likely, that as I did not appear to know the -shore, I might have put into the harbour ignorant of the distance of the -town of * * * from the place where I had deposited the corpse. - -Mr. Kirwin, on hearing this evidence, desired that I should be taken -into the room where the body lay for interment, that it might be -observed what effect the sight of it would produce upon me. This idea -was probably suggested by the extreme agitation I had exhibited when the -mode of the murder had been described. I was accordingly conducted, by -the magistrate and several other persons, to the inn. I could not help -being struck by the strange coincidences that had taken place during -this eventful night; but, knowing that I had been conversing with -several persons in the island I had inhabited about the time that the -body had been found, I was perfectly tranquil as to the consequences of -the affair. - -I entered the room where the corpse lay, and was led up to the coffin. -How can I describe my sensations on beholding it? I feel yet parched -with horror, nor can I reflect on that terrible moment without -shuddering and agony. The examination, the presence of the magistrate -and witnesses, passed like a dream from my memory, when I saw the -lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched before me. I gasped for breath; -and, throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed, "Have my murderous -machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry, of life? Two I have -already destroyed; other victims await their destiny: but you, Clerval, -my friend, my benefactor----" - -The human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured, and -I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions. - -A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months on the point of death: -my ravings, as I afterwards heard, were frightful; I called myself the -murderer of William, of Justine, and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated -my attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was -tormented; and at others, I felt the fingers of the monster already -grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror. Fortunately, -as I spoke my native language, Mr. Kirwin alone understood me; but my -gestures and bitter cries were sufficient to affright the other -witnesses. - -Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was before, why did I -not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches away many blooming -children, the only hopes of their doating parents: how many brides and -youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of health and hope, and -the next a prey for worms and the decay of the tomb! Of what materials -was I made, that I could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the -turning of the wheel, continually renewed the torture? - -But I was doomed to live; and, in two months, found myself as awaking -from a dream, in a prison, stretched on a wretched bed, surrounded by -gaolers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the miserable apparatus of a dungeon. -It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to understanding: I had -forgotten the particulars of what had happened, and only felt as if some -great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me; but when I looked around, -and saw the barred windows, and the squalidness of the room in which I -was, all flashed across my memory, and I groaned bitterly. - -This sound disturbed an old woman who was sleeping in a chair beside me. -She was a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys, and her -countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often characterise -that class. The lines of her face were hard and rude, like that of -persons accustomed to see without sympathising in sights of misery. Her -tone expressed her entire indifference; she addressed me in English, and -the voice struck me as one that I had heard during my sufferings:-- - -"Are you better now, sir?" said she. - -I replied in the same language, with a feeble voice, "I believe I am; -but if it be all true, if indeed I did not dream, I am sorry that I am -still alive to feel this misery and horror." - -"For that matter," replied the old woman, "if you mean about the -gentleman you murdered, I believe that it were better for you if you -were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you! However, that's none of -my business; I am sent to nurse you, and get you well; I do my duty with -a safe conscience; it were well if every body did the same." - -I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter so unfeeling a -speech to a person just saved, on the very edge of death; but I felt -languid, and unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole series -of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it -were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force -of reality. - -As the images that floated before me became more distinct, I grew -feverish; a darkness pressed around me: no one was near me who soothed -me with the gentle voice of love; no dear hand supported me. The -physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared them -for me; but utter carelessness was visible in the first, and the -expression of brutality was strongly marked in the visage of the second. -Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer, but the hangman who -would gain his fee? - -These were my first reflections; but I soon learned that Mr. Kirwin had -shown me extreme kindness. He had caused the best room in the prison to -be prepared for me (wretched indeed was the best); and it was he who had -provided a physician and a nurse. It is true, he seldom came to see me; -for, although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of every -human creature, he did not wish to be present at the agonies and -miserable ravings of a murderer. He came, therefore, sometimes, to see -that I was not neglected; but his visits were short, and with long -intervals. - -One day, while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in a chair, my -eyes half open, and my cheeks livid like those in death. I was overcome -by gloom and misery, and often reflected I had better seek death than -desire to remain in a world which to me was replete with wretchedness. -At one time I considered whether I should not declare myself guilty, and -suffer the penalty of the law, less innocent than poor Justine had been. -Such were my thoughts, when the door of my apartment was opened, and Mr. -Kirwin entered. His countenance expressed sympathy and compassion; he -drew a chair close to mine, and addressed me in French-- - -"I fear that this place is very shocking to you; can I do any thing to -make you more comfortable?" - -"I thank you; but all that you mention is nothing to me: on the whole -earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving." - -"I know that the sympathy of a stranger can be but of little relief to -one borne down as you are by so strange a misfortune. But you will, I -hope, soon quit this melancholy abode; for, doubtless, evidence can -easily be brought to free you from the criminal charge." - -"That is my least concern: I am, by a course of strange events, become -the most miserable of mortals. Persecuted and tortured as I am and have -been, can death be any evil to me?" - -"Nothing indeed could be more unfortunate and agonising than the strange -chances that have lately occurred. You were thrown, by some surprising -accident, on this shore, renowned for its hospitality; seized -immediately, and charged with murder. The first sight that was presented -to your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in so unaccountable a -manner, and placed, as it were, by some fiend across your path." - -As Mr. Kirwin said this, notwithstanding the agitation I endured on this -retrospect of my sufferings, I also felt considerable surprise at the -knowledge he seemed to possess concerning me. I suppose some -astonishment was exhibited in my countenance; for Mr. Kirwin hastened to -say-- - -"Immediately upon your being taken ill, all the papers that were on your -person were brought me, and I examined them that I might discover some -trace by which I could send to your relations an account of your -misfortune and illness. I found several letters, and, among others, one -which I discovered from its commencement to be from your father. I -instantly wrote to Geneva: nearly two months have elapsed since the -departure of my letter.--But you are ill; even now you tremble: you are -unfit for agitation of any kind." - -"This suspense is a thousand times worse than the most horrible event: -tell me what new scene of death has been acted, and whose murder I am -now to lament?" - -"Your family is perfectly well," said Mr. Kirwin, with gentleness; "and -some one, a friend, is come to visit you." - -I know not by what chain of thought, the idea presented itself, but it -instantly darted into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my -misery, and taunt me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement for -me to comply with his hellish desires. I put my hand before my eyes, and -cried out in agony-- - -"Oh! take him away! I cannot see him; for God's sake, do not let him -enter!" - -Mr. Kirwin regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help -regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt, and said, in -rather a severe tone-- - -"I should have thought, young man, that the presence of your father -would have been welcome, instead of inspiring such violent repugnance." - -"My father!" cried I, while every feature and every muscle was relaxed -from anguish to pleasure: "is my father indeed come? How kind, how very -kind! But where is he, why does he not hasten to me?" - -My change of manner surprised and pleased the magistrate; perhaps he -thought that my former exclamation was a momentary return of delirium, -and now he instantly resumed his former benevolence. He rose, and -quitted the room with my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it. - -Nothing, at this moment, could have given me greater pleasure than the -arrival of my father. I stretched out my hand to him, and cried-- - -"Are you then safe--and Elizabeth--and Ernest?" - -My father calmed me with assurances of their welfare, and endeavoured, -by dwelling on these subjects so interesting to my heart, to raise my -desponding spirits; but he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode -of cheerfulness. "What a place is this that you inhabit, my son!" said -he, looking mournfully at the barred windows, and wretched appearance of -the room. "You travelled to seek happiness, but a fatality seems to -pursue you. And poor Clerval--" - -The name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an agitation too -great to be endured in my weak state; I shed tears. - -"Alas! yes, my father," replied I; "some destiny of the most horrible -kind hangs over me, and I must live to fulfil it, or surely I should -have died on the coffin of Henry." - -We were not allowed to converse for any length of time, for the -precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that -could ensure tranquillity. Mr. Kirwin came in, and insisted that my -strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion. But the -appearance of my father was to me like that of my good angel, and I -gradually recovered my health. - -As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black -melancholy, that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was for -ever before me, ghastly and murdered. More than once the agitation into -which these reflections threw me made my friends dread a dangerous -relapse. Alas! why did they preserve so miserable and detested a life? -It was surely that I might fulfil my destiny, which is now drawing to a -close. Soon, oh! very soon, will death extinguish these throbbings, and -relieve me from the mighty weight of anguish that bears me to the dust; -and, in executing the award of justice, I shall also sink to rest. Then -the appearance of death was distant, although the wish was ever present -to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours motionless and speechless, -wishing for some mighty revolution that might bury me and my destroyer -in its ruins. - -The season of the assizes approached. I had already been three months in -prison; and although I was still weak, and in continual danger of a -relapse, I was obliged to travel nearly a hundred miles to the -county-town, where the court was held. Mr. Kirwin charged himself with -every care of collecting witnesses, and arranging my defence. I was -spared the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal, as the case was -not brought before the court that decides on life and death. The grand -jury rejected the bill, on its being proved that I was on the Orkney -Islands at the hour the body of my friend was found; and a fortnight -after my removal I was liberated from prison. - -My father was enraptured on finding me freed from the vexations of a -criminal charge, that I was again allowed to breathe the fresh -atmosphere, and permitted to return to my native country. I did not -participate in these feelings; for to me the walls of a dungeon or a -palace were alike hateful. The cup of life was poisoned for ever; and -although the sun shone upon me, as upon the happy and gay of heart, I -saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness, penetrated by -no light but the glimmer of two eyes that glared upon me. Sometimes they -were the expressive eyes of Henry, languishing in death, the dark orbs -nearly covered by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them; -sometimes it was the watery, clouded eyes of the monster, as I first saw -them in my chamber at Ingolstadt. - -My father tried to awaken in me the feelings of affection. He talked of -Geneva, which I should soon visit--of Elizabeth and Ernest; but these -words only drew deep groans from me. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a wish -for happiness; and thought, with melancholy delight, of my beloved -cousin; or longed, with a devouring _maladie du pays_, to see once more -the blue lake and rapid Rhone, that had been so dear to me in early -childhood: but my general state of feeling was a torpor, in which a -prison was as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature; and -these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of anguish and -despair. At these moments I often endeavoured to put an end to the -existence I loathed; and it required unceasing attendance and vigilance -to restrain me from committing some dreadful act of violence. - -Yet one duty remained to me, the recollection of which finally triumphed -over my selfish despair. It was necessary that I should return without -delay to Geneva, there to watch over the lives of those I so fondly -loved; and to lie in wait for the murderer, that if any chance led me to -the place of his concealment, or if he dared again to blast me by his -presence, I might, with unfailing aim, put an end to the existence of -the monstrous Image which I had endued with the mockery of a soul still -more monstrous. My father still desired to delay our departure, fearful -that I could not sustain the fatigues of a journey: for I was a -shattered wreck,--the shadow of a human being. My strength was gone. I -was a mere skeleton; and fever night and day preyed upon my wasted -frame. - -Still, as I urged our leaving Ireland with such inquietude and -impatience, my father thought it best to yield. We took our passage on -board a vessel bound for Havre-de-Grace, and sailed with a fair wind -from the Irish shores. It was midnight. I lay on the deck, looking at -the stars, and listening to the dashing of the waves. I hailed the -darkness that shut Ireland from my sight; and my pulse beat with a -feverish joy when I reflected that I should soon see Geneva. The past -appeared to me in the light of a frightful dream; yet the vessel in -which I was, the wind that blew me from the detested shore of Ireland, -and the sea which surrounded me, told me too forcibly that I was -deceived by no vision, and that Clerval, my friend and dearest -companion, had fallen a victim to me and the monster of my creation. I -repassed, in my memory, my whole life; my quiet happiness while residing -with my family in Geneva, the death of my mother, and my departure for -Ingolstadt. I remembered, shuddering, the mad enthusiasm that hurried me -on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and I called to mind the night -in which he first lived. I was unable to pursue the train of thought; a -thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitterly. - -Ever since my recovery from the fever, I had been in the custom of -taking every night a small quantity of laudanum; for it was by means of -this drug only that I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the -preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various -misfortunes, I now swallowed double my usual quantity, and soon slept -profoundly. But sleep did not afford me respite from thought and misery; -my dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me. Towards morning I -was possessed by a kind of night-mare; I felt the fiend's grasp in my -neck, and could not free myself from it; groans and cries rung in my -ears. My father, who was watching over me, perceiving my restlessness, -awoke me; the dashing waves were around: the cloudy sky above; the fiend -was not here: a sense of security, a feeling that a truce was -established between the present hour and the irresistible, disastrous -future, imparted to me a kind of calm forgetfulness, of which the human -mind is by its structure peculiarly susceptible. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -The voyage came to an end. We landed, and proceeded to Paris. I soon -found that I had overtaxed my strength, and that I must repose before I -could continue my journey. My father's care and attentions were -indefatigable; but he did not know the origin of my sufferings, and -sought erroneous methods to remedy the incurable ill. He wished me to -seek amusement in society. I abhorred the face of man. Oh, not abhorred! -they were my brethren, my fellow beings, and I felt attracted even to -the most repulsive among them, as to creatures of an angelic nature and -celestial mechanism. But I felt that I had no right to share their -intercourse. I had unchained an enemy among them, whose joy it was to -shed their blood, and to revel in their groans. How they would, each and -all, abhor me, and hunt me from the world, did they know my unhallowed -acts, and the crimes which had their source in me! - -My father yielded at length to my desire to avoid society, and strove by -various arguments to banish my despair. Sometimes he thought that I felt -deeply the degradation of being obliged to answer a charge of murder, -and he endeavoured to prove to me the futility of pride. - -"Alas! my father," said I, "how little do you know me. Human beings, -their feelings and passions, would indeed be degraded if such a wretch -as I felt pride. Justine, poor unhappy Justine, was as innocent as I, -and she suffered the same charge; she died for it; and I am the cause of -this--I murdered her. William, Justine, and Henry--they all died by my -hands." - -My father had often, during my imprisonment, heard me make the same -assertion; when I thus accused myself, he sometimes seemed to desire an -explanation, and at others he appeared to consider it as the offspring -of delirium, and that, during my illness, some idea of this kind had -presented itself to my imagination, the remembrance of which I preserved -in my convalescence. I avoided explanation, and maintained a continual -silence concerning the wretch I had created. I had a persuasion that I -should be supposed mad; and this in itself would for ever have chained -my tongue. But, besides, I could not bring myself to disclose a secret -which would fill my hearer with consternation, and make fear and -unnatural horror the inmates of his breast. I checked, therefore, my -impatient thirst for sympathy, and was silent when I would have given -the world to have confided the fatal secret. Yet still words like those -I have recorded, would burst uncontrollably from me. I could offer no -explanation of them; but their truth in part relieved the burden of my -mysterious woe. - -Upon this occasion my father said, with an expression of unbounded -wonder, "My dearest Victor, what infatuation is this? My dear son, I -entreat you never to make such an assertion again." - -"I am not mad," I cried energetically; "the sun and the heavens, who -have viewed my operations, can bear witness of my truth. I am the -assassin of those most innocent victims; they died by my machinations. A -thousand times would I have shed my own blood, drop by drop, to have -saved their lives; but I could not, my father, indeed I could not -sacrifice the whole human race." - -The conclusion of this speech convinced my father that my ideas were -deranged, and he instantly changed the subject of our conversation, and -endeavoured to alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much as -possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that had taken place in -Ireland, and never alluded to them, or suffered me to speak of my -misfortunes. - -As time passed away I became more calm: misery had her dwelling in my -heart, but I no longer talked in the same incoherent manner of my own -crimes; sufficient for me was the consciousness of them. By the utmost -self-violence, I curbed the imperious voice of wretchedness, which -sometimes desired to declare itself to the whole world; and my manners -were calmer and more composed than they had ever been since my journey -to the sea of ice. - -A few days before we left Paris on our way to Switzerland, I received -the following letter from Elizabeth:-- - -"My dear Friend, - -"It gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter from my uncle -dated at Paris; you are no longer at a formidable distance, and I may -hope to see you in less than a fortnight. My poor cousin, how much you -must have suffered! I expect to see you looking even more ill than when -you quitted Geneva. This winter has been passed most miserably, tortured -as I have been by anxious suspense; yet I hope to see peace in your -countenance, and to find that your heart is not totally void of comfort -and tranquillity. - -"Yet I fear that the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable -a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would not disturb you at -this period, when so many misfortunes weigh upon you; but a conversation -that I had with my uncle previous to his departure renders some -explanation necessary before we meet. - -"Explanation! you may possibly say; what can Elizabeth have to explain? -If you really say this, my questions are answered, and all my doubts -satisfied. But you are distant from me, and it is possible that you may -dread, and yet be pleased with this explanation; and, in a probability -of this being the case, I dare not any longer postpone writing what, -during your absence, I have often wished to express to you, but have -never had the courage to begin. - -"You well know, Victor, that our union had been the favourite plan of -your parents ever since our infancy. We were told this when young, and -taught to look forward to it as an event that would certainly take -place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood, and, I -believe, dear and valued friends to one another as we grew older. But as -brother and sister often entertain a lively affection towards each -other, without desiring a more intimate union, may not such also be our -case? Tell me, dearest Victor. Answer me, I conjure you, by our mutual -happiness, with simple truth--Do you not love another? - -"You have travelled; you have spent several years of your life at -Ingolstadt; and I confess to you, my friend, that when I saw you last -autumn so unhappy, flying to solitude, from the society of every -creature, I could not help supposing that you might regret our -connection, and believe yourself bound in honour to fulfil the wishes of -your parents, although they opposed themselves to your inclinations. But -this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend, that I love you, -and that in my airy dreams of futurity you have been my constant friend -and companion. But it is your happiness I desire as well as my own, when -I declare to you, that our marriage would render me eternally miserable, -unless it were the dictate of your own free choice. Even now I weep to -think, that, borne down as you are by the cruellest misfortunes, you may -stifle, by the word _honour_, all hope of that love and happiness which -would alone restore you to yourself. I, who have so disinterested an -affection for you, may increase your miseries tenfold, by being an -obstacle to your wishes. Ah! Victor, be assured that your cousin and -playmate has too sincere a love for you not to be made miserable by this -supposition. Be happy, my friend; and if you obey me in this one -request, remain satisfied that nothing on earth will have the power to -interrupt my tranquillity. - -"Do not let this letter disturb you; do not answer to-morrow, or the -next day, or even until you come, if it will give you pain. My uncle -will send me news of your health; and if I see but one smile on your -lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I -shall need no other happiness. - -"ELIZABETH LAVENZA. - -"Geneva, May 18th, 17--." - - * * * * * - -This letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten, the threat -of the fiend--"_I will be with you on your wedding night!_" Such was my -sentence, and on that night would the dæmon employ every art to destroy -me, and tear me from the glimpse of happiness which promised partly to -console my sufferings. On that night he had determined to consummate his -crimes by my death. Well, be it so; a deadly struggle would then -assuredly take place, in which if he were victorious I should be at -peace, and his power over me be at an end. If he were vanquished, I -should be a free man. Alas! what freedom? such as the peasant enjoys -when his family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt, -his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, penniless, and -alone, but free. Such would be my liberty, except that in my Elizabeth I -possessed a treasure; alas! balanced by those horrors of remorse and -guilt, which would pursue me until death. - -Sweet and beloved Elizabeth! I read and re-read her letter, and some -softened feelings stole into my heart, and dared to whisper paradisiacal -dreams of love and joy; but the apple was already eaten, and the angel's -arm bared to drive me from all hope. Yet I would die to make her happy. -If the monster executed his threat, death was inevitable; yet, again, I -considered whether my marriage would hasten my fate. My destruction -might indeed arrive a few months sooner; but if my torturer should -suspect that I postponed it, influenced by his menaces, he would surely -find other, and perhaps more dreadful means of revenge. He had vowed _to -be with me on my wedding-night_, yet he did not consider that threat as -binding him to peace in the mean time; for, as if to show me that he was -not yet satiated with blood, he had murdered Clerval immediately after -the enunciation of his threats. I resolved, therefore, that if my -immediate union with my cousin would conduce either to hers or my -father's happiness, my adversary's designs against my life should not -retard it a single hour. - -In this state of mind I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and -affectionate. "I fear, my beloved girl," I said, "little happiness -remains for us on earth; yet all that I may one day enjoy is centred in -you. Chase away your idle fears; to you alone do I consecrate my life, -and my endeavours for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a -dreadful one; when revealed to you, it will chill your frame with -horror, and then, far from being surprised at my misery, you will only -wonder that I survive what I have endured. I will confide this tale of -misery and terror to you the day after our marriage shall take place; -for, my sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between us. But -until then, I conjure you, do not mention or allude to it. This I most -earnestly entreat, and I know you will comply." - -In about a week after the arrival of Elizabeth's letter, we returned to -Geneva. The sweet girl welcomed me with warm affection; yet tears were -in her eyes, as she beheld my emaciated frame and feverish cheeks. I saw -a change in her also. She was thinner, and had lost much of that -heavenly vivacity that had before charmed me; but her gentleness, and -soft looks of compassion, made her a more fit companion for one blasted -and miserable as I was. - -The tranquillity which I now enjoyed did not endure. Memory brought -madness with it; and when I thought of what had passed, a real insanity -possessed me; sometimes I was furious, and burnt with rage; sometimes -low and despondent. I neither spoke, nor looked at any one, but sat -motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that overcame me. - -Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her gentle -voice would soothe me when transported by passion, and inspire me with -human feelings when sunk in torpor. She wept with me, and for me. When -reason returned, she would remonstrate, and endeavour to inspire me with -resignation. Ah! it is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for -the guilty there is no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury -there is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief. - -Soon after my arrival, my father spoke of my immediate marriage with -Elizabeth. I remained silent. - -"Have you, then, some other attachment?" - -"None on earth. I love Elizabeth, and look forward to our union with -delight. Let the day therefore be fixed; and on it I will consecrate -myself, in life or death, to the happiness of my cousin." - -"My dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen us; -but let us only cling closer to what remains, and transfer our love for -those whom we have lost, to those who yet live. Our circle will be -small, but bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune. -And when time shall have softened your despair, new and dear objects of -care will be born to replace those of whom we have been so cruelly -deprived." - -Such were the lessons of my father. But to me the remembrance of the -threat returned: nor can you wonder, that, omnipotent as the fiend had -yet been in his deeds of blood, I should almost regard him as -invincible; and that when he had pronounced the words, "I shall be with -you on your wedding-night," I should regard the threatened fate as -unavoidable. But death was no evil to me, if the loss of Elizabeth were -balanced with it; and I therefore, with a contented and even cheerful -countenance, agreed with my father, that if my cousin would consent, the -ceremony should take place in ten days, and thus put, as I imagined, the -seal to my fate. - -Great God! if for one instant I had thought what might be the hellish -intention of my fiendish adversary, I would rather have banished myself -for ever from my native country, and wandered a friendless outcast over -the earth, than have consented to this miserable marriage. But, as if -possessed of magic powers, the monster had blinded me to his real -intentions; and when I thought that I had prepared only my own death, I -hastened that of a far dearer victim. - -As the period fixed for our marriage drew nearer, whether from cowardice -or a prophetic feeling, I felt my heart sink within me. But I concealed -my feelings by an appearance of hilarity, that brought smiles and joy to -the countenance of my father, but hardly deceived the ever-watchful and -nicer eye of Elizabeth. She looked forward to our union with placid -contentment, not unmingled with a little fear, which past misfortunes -had impressed, that what now appeared certain and tangible happiness, -might soon dissipate into an airy dream, and leave no trace but deep and -everlasting regret. - -Preparations were made for the event; congratulatory visits were -received; and all wore a smiling appearance. I shut up, as well as I -could, in my own heart the anxiety that preyed there, and entered with -seeming earnestness into the plans of my father, although they might -only serve as the decorations of my tragedy. Through my father's -exertions, a part of the inheritance of Elizabeth had been restored to -her by the Austrian government. A small possession on the shores of Como -belonged to her. It was agreed that, immediately after our union, we -should proceed to Villa Lavenza, and spend our first days of happiness -beside the beautiful lake near which it stood. - -In the mean time I took every precaution to defend my person, in case -the fiend should openly attack me. I carried pistols and a dagger -constantly about me, and was ever on the watch to prevent artifice; and -by these means gained a greater degree of tranquillity. Indeed, as the -period approached, the threat appeared more as a delusion, not to be -regarded as worthy to disturb my peace, while the happiness I hoped for -in my marriage wore a greater appearance of certainty, as the day fixed -for its solemnisation drew nearer, and I heard it continually spoken of -as an occurrence which no accident could possibly prevent. - -Elizabeth seemed happy; my tranquil demeanour contributed greatly to -calm her mind. But on the day that was to fulfil my wishes and my -destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of evil pervaded her; -and perhaps also she thought of the dreadful secret which I had promised -to reveal to her on the following day. My father was in the mean time -overjoyed, and, in the bustle of preparation, only recognised in the -melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride. - -After the ceremony was performed, a large party assembled at my -father's; but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I should commence our -journey by water, sleeping that night at Evian, and continuing our -voyage on the following day. The day was fair, the wind favourable, all -smiled on our nuptial embarkation. - -Those were the last moments of my life during which I enjoyed the -feeling of happiness. We passed rapidly along: the sun was hot, but we -were sheltered from its rays by a kind of canopy, while we enjoyed the -beauty of the scene, sometimes on one side of the lake, where we saw -Mont Salêve, the pleasant banks of Montalègre, and at a distance, -surmounting all, the beautiful Mont Blanc, and the assemblage of snowy -mountains that in vain endeavour to emulate her; sometimes coasting the -opposite banks, we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to the -ambition that would quit its native country, and an almost -insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to enslave it. - -I took the hand of Elizabeth: "You are sorrowful, my love. Ah! if you -knew what I have suffered, and what I may yet endure, you would -endeavour to let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair, that this -one day at least permits me to enjoy." - -"Be happy, my dear Victor," replied Elizabeth; "there is, I hope, -nothing to distress you; and be assured that if a lively joy is not -painted in my face, my heart is contented. Something whispers to me not -to depend too much on the prospect that is opened before us; but I will -not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast we move along, and -how the clouds, which sometimes obscure and sometimes rise above the -dome of Mont Blanc, render this scene of beauty still more interesting. -Look also at the innumerable fish that are swimming in the clear waters, -where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at the bottom. What a -divine day! how happy and serene all nature appears!" - -Thus Elizabeth endeavoured to divert her thoughts and mine from all -reflection upon melancholy subjects. But her temper was fluctuating; joy -for a few instants shone in her eyes, but it continually gave place to -distraction and reverie. - -The sun sunk lower in the heavens; we passed the river Drance, and -observed its path through the chasms of the higher, and the glens of the -lower hills. The Alps here come closer to the lake, and we approached -the amphitheatre of mountains which forms its eastern boundary. The -spire of Evian shone under the woods that surrounded it, and the range -of mountain above mountain by which it was overhung. - -The wind, which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity, -sunk at sunset to a light breeze; the soft air just ruffled the water, -and caused a pleasant motion among the trees as we approached the shore, -from which it wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and hay. The -sun sunk beneath the horizon as we landed; and as I touched the shore, I -felt those cares and fears revive, which soon were to clasp me, and -cling to me for ever. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -It was eight o'clock when we landed; we walked for a short time on the -shore, enjoying the transitory light, and then retired to the inn, and -contemplated the lovely scene of waters, woods, and mountains, obscured -in darkness, yet still displaying their black outlines. - -The wind, which had fallen in the south, now rose with great violence in -the west. The moon had reached her summit in the heavens, and was -beginning to descend; the clouds swept across it swifter than the flight -of the vulture, and dimmed her rays, while the lake reflected the scene -of the busy heavens, rendered still busier by the restless waves that -were beginning to rise. Suddenly a heavy storm of rain descended. - -I had been calm during the day; but so soon as night obscured the shapes -of objects, a thousand fears arose in my mind. I was anxious and -watchful, while my right hand grasped a pistol which was hidden in my -bosom; every sound terrified me; but I resolved that I would sell my -life dearly, and not shrink from the conflict until my own life, or that -of my adversary, was extinguished. - -Elizabeth observed my agitation for some time in timid and fearful -silence; but there was something in my glance which communicated terror -to her, and trembling she asked, "What is it that agitates you, my dear -Victor? What is it you fear?" - -"Oh! peace, peace, my love," replied I; "this night, and all will be -safe: but this night is dreadful, very dreadful." - -I passed an hour in this state of mind, when suddenly I reflected how -fearful the combat which I momentarily expected would be to my wife, and -I earnestly entreated her to retire, resolving not to join her until I -had obtained some knowledge as to the situation of my enemy. - -She left me, and I continued some time walking up and down the passages -of the house, and inspecting every corner that might afford a retreat -to my adversary. But I discovered no trace of him, and was beginning to -conjecture that some fortunate chance had intervened to prevent the -execution of his menaces; when suddenly I heard a shrill and dreadful -scream. It came from the room into which Elizabeth had retired. As I -heard it, the whole truth rushed into my mind, my arms dropped, the -motion of every muscle and fibre was suspended; I could feel the blood -trickling in my veins, and tingling in the extremities of my limbs. This -state lasted but for an instant; the scream was repeated, and I rushed -into the room. - -Great God! why did I not then expire! Why am I here to relate the -destruction of the best hope, and the purest creature of earth? She was -there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her head hanging -down, and her pale and distorted features half covered by her hair. -Every where I turn I see the same figure--her bloodless arms and relaxed -form flung by the murderer on its bridal bier. Could I behold this, and -live? Alas! life is obstinate, and clings closest where it is most -hated. For a moment only did I lose recollection; I fell senseless on -the ground. - -When I recovered, I found myself surrounded by the people of the inn; -their countenances expressed a breathless terror: but the horror of -others appeared only as a mockery, a shadow of the feelings that -oppressed me. I escaped from them to the room where lay the body of -Elizabeth, my love, my wife, so lately living, so dear, so worthy. She -had been moved from the posture in which I had first beheld her; and -now, as she lay, her head upon her arm, and a handkerchief thrown across -her face and neck, I might have supposed her asleep. I rushed towards -her, and embraced her with ardour; but the deadly languor and coldness -of the limbs told me, that what I now held in my arms had ceased to be -the Elizabeth whom I had loved and cherished. The murderous mark of the -fiend's grasp was on her neck, and the breath had ceased to issue from -her lips. - -While I still hung over her in the agony of despair, I happened to look -up. The windows of the room had before been darkened, and I felt a kind -of panic on seeing the pale yellow light of the moon illuminate the -chamber. The shutters had been thrown back; and, with a sensation of -horror not to be described, I saw at the open window a figure the most -hideous and abhorred. A grin was on the face of the monster; he seemed -to jeer, as with his fiendish finger he pointed towards the corpse of my -wife. I rushed towards the window, and drawing a pistol from my bosom, -fired; but he eluded me, leaped from his station, and, running with the -swiftness of lightning, plunged into the lake. - -The report of the pistol brought a crowd into the room. I pointed to the -spot where he had disappeared, and we followed the track with boats; -nets were cast, but in vain. After passing several hours, we returned -hopeless, most of my companions believing it to have been a form -conjured up by my fancy. After having landed, they proceeded to search -the country, parties going in different directions among the woods and -vines. - -I attempted to accompany them, and proceeded a short distance from the -house; but my head whirled round, my steps were like those of a drunken -man, I fell at last in a state of utter exhaustion; a film covered my -eyes, and my skin was parched with the heat of fever. In this state I -was carried back, and placed on a bed, hardly conscious of what had -happened; my eyes wandered round the room, as if to seek something that -I had lost. - -After an interval, I arose, and, as if by instinct, crawled into the -room where the corpse of my beloved lay. There were women weeping -around--I hung over it, and joined my sad tears to theirs--all this time -no distinct idea presented itself to my mind; but my thoughts rambled to -various subjects, reflecting confusedly on my misfortunes, and their -cause. I was bewildered in a cloud of wonder and horror. The death of -William, the execution of Justine, the murder of Clerval, and lastly of -my wife; even at that moment I knew not that my only remaining friends -were safe from the malignity of the fiend; my father even now might be -writhing under his grasp, and Ernest might be dead at his feet. This -idea made me shudder, and recalled me to action. I started up, and -resolved to return to Geneva with all possible speed. - -There were no horses to be procured, and I must return by the lake; but -the wind was unfavourable, and the rain fell in torrents. However, it -was hardly morning, and I might reasonably hope to arrive by night. I -hired men to row, and took an oar myself; for I had always experienced -relief from mental torment in bodily exercise. But the overflowing -misery I now felt, and the excess of agitation that I endured, rendered -me incapable of any exertion. I threw down the oar; and leaning my head -upon my hands, gave way to every gloomy idea that arose. If I looked up, -I saw the scenes which were familiar to me in my happier time, and which -I had contemplated but the day before in the company of her who was now -but a shadow and a recollection. Tears streamed from my eyes. The rain -had ceased for a moment, and I saw the fish play in the waters as they -had done a few hours before; they had then been observed by Elizabeth. -Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change. -The sun might shine, or the clouds might lower: but nothing could appear -to me as it had done the day before. A fiend had snatched from me every -hope of future happiness: no creature had ever been so miserable as I -was; so frightful an event is single in the history of man. - -But why should I dwell upon the incidents that followed this last -overwhelming event? Mine has been a tale of horrors; I have reached -their _acme_, and what I must now relate can but be tedious to you. Know -that, one by one, my friends were snatched away; I was left desolate. My -own strength is exhausted; and I must tell, in a few words, what remains -of my hideous narration. - -I arrived at Geneva. My father and Ernest yet lived; but the former sunk -under the tidings that I bore. I see him now, excellent and venerable -old man! his eyes wandered in vacancy, for they had lost their charm and -their delight--his Elizabeth, his more than daughter, whom he doated on -with all that affection which a man feels, who in the decline of life, -having few affections, clings more earnestly to those that remain. -Cursed, cursed be the fiend that brought misery on his grey hairs, and -doomed him to waste in wretchedness! He could not live under the horrors -that were accumulated around him; the springs of existence suddenly gave -way: he was unable to rise from his bed, and in a few days he died in my -arms. - -What then became of me? I know not; I lost sensation, and chains and -darkness were the only objects that pressed upon me. Sometimes, indeed, -I dreamt that I wandered in flowery meadows and pleasant vales with the -friends of my youth; but I awoke, and found myself in a dungeon. -Melancholy followed, but by degrees I gained a clear conception of my -miseries and situation, and was then released from my prison. For they -had called me mad; and during many months, as I understood, a solitary -cell had been my habitation. - -Liberty, however, had been an useless gift to me, had I not, as I -awakened to reason, at the same time awakened to revenge. As the memory -of past misfortunes pressed upon me, I began to reflect on their -cause--the monster whom I had created, the miserable dæmon whom I had -sent abroad into the world for my destruction. I was possessed by a -maddening rage when I thought of him, and desired and ardently prayed -that I might have him within my grasp to wreak a great and signal -revenge on his cursed head. - -Nor did my hate long confine itself to useless wishes; I began to -reflect on the best means of securing him; and for this purpose, about a -month after my release, I repaired to a criminal judge in the town, and -told him that I had an accusation to make; that I knew the destroyer of -my family; and that I required him to exert his whole authority for the -apprehension of the murderer. - -The magistrate listened to me with attention and kindness:--"Be assured, -sir," said he, "no pains or exertions on my part shall be spared to -discover the villain." - -"I thank you," replied I; "listen, therefore, to the deposition that I -have to make. It is indeed a tale so strange, that I should fear you -would not credit it, were there not something in truth which, however -wonderful, forces conviction. The story is too connected to be mistaken -for a dream, and I have no motive for falsehood." My manner, as I thus -addressed him, was impressive, but calm; I had formed in my own heart a -resolution to pursue my destroyer to death; and this purpose quieted my -agony, and for an interval reconciled me to life. I now related my -history, briefly, but with firmness and precision, marking the dates -with accuracy, and never deviating into invective or exclamation. - -The magistrate appeared at first perfectly incredulous, but as I -continued he became more attentive and interested; I saw him sometimes -shudder with horror, at others a lively surprise, unmingled with -disbelief, was painted on his countenance. - -When I had concluded my narration, I said, "This is the being whom I -accuse, and for whose seizure and punishment I call upon you to exert -your whole power. It is your duty as a magistrate, and I believe and -hope that your feelings as a man will not revolt from the execution of -those functions on this occasion." - -This address caused a considerable change in the physiognomy of my own -auditor. He had heard my story with that half kind of belief that is -given to a tale of spirits and supernatural events; but when he was -called upon to act officially in consequence, the whole tide of his -incredulity returned. He, however, answered mildly, "I would willingly -afford you every aid in your pursuit; but the creature of whom you speak -appears to have powers which would put all my exertions to defiance. Who -can follow an animal which can traverse the sea of ice, and inhabit -caves and dens where no man would venture to intrude? Besides, some -months have elapsed since the commission of his crimes, and no one can -conjecture to what place he has wandered, or what region he may now -inhabit." - -"I do not doubt that he hovers near the spot which I inhabit; and if he -has indeed taken refuge in the Alps, he may be hunted like the chamois, -and destroyed as a beast of prey. But I perceive your thoughts: you do -not credit my narrative, and do not intend to pursue my enemy with the -punishment which is his desert." - -As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; the magistrate was -intimidated:--"You are mistaken," said he, "I will exert myself; and if -it is in my power to seize the monster, be assured that he shall suffer -punishment proportionate to his crimes. But I fear, from what you have -yourself described to be his properties, that this will prove -impracticable; and thus, while every proper measure is pursued, you -should make up your mind to disappointment." - -"That cannot be; but all that I can say will be of little avail. My -revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to be a vice, I -confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my soul. My rage is -unspeakable, when I reflect that the murderer, whom I have turned loose -upon society, still exists. You refuse my just demand: I have but one -resource; and I devote myself, either in my life or death, to his -destruction." - -I trembled with excess of agitation as I said this; there was a frenzy -in my manner, and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness -which the martyrs of old are said to have possessed. But to a Genevan -magistrate, whose mind was occupied by far other ideas than those of -devotion and heroism, this elevation of mind had much the appearance of -madness. He endeavoured to soothe me as a nurse does a child, and -reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium. - -"Man," I cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; -you know not what it is you say." - -I broke from the house angry and disturbed, and retired to meditate on -some other mode of action. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -My present situation was one in which all voluntary thought was -swallowed up and lost. I was hurried away by fury; revenge alone endowed -me with strength and composure; it moulded my feelings, and allowed me -to be calculating and calm, at periods when otherwise delirium or death -would have been my portion. - -My first resolution was to quit Geneva for ever; my country, which, when -I was happy and beloved, was dear to me, now, in my adversity, became -hateful. I provided myself with a sum of money, together with a few -jewels which had belonged to my mother, and departed. - -And now my wanderings began, which are to cease but with life. I have -traversed a vast portion of the earth, and have endured all the -hardships which travellers, in deserts and barbarous countries, are wont -to meet. How I have lived I hardly know; many times have I stretched my -failing limbs upon the sandy plain, and prayed for death. But revenge -kept me alive; I dared not die, and leave my adversary in being. - -When I quitted Geneva, my first labour was to gain some clue by which I -might trace the steps of my fiendish enemy. But my plan was unsettled; -and I wandered many hours round the confines of the town, uncertain what -path I should pursue. As night approached, I found myself at the -entrance of the cemetery where William, Elizabeth, and my father -reposed. I entered it, and approached the tomb which marked their -graves. Every thing was silent, except the leaves of the trees, which -were gently agitated by the wind; the night was nearly dark; and the -scene would have been solemn and affecting even to an uninterested -observer. The spirits of the departed seemed to flit around, and to cast -a shadow, which was felt but not seen, around the head of the mourner. - -The deep grief which this scene had at first excited quickly gave way to -rage and despair. They were dead, and I lived; their murderer also -lived, and to destroy him I must drag out my weary existence. I knelt on -the grass, and kissed the earth, and with quivering lips exclaimed, "By -the sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near me, by -the deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O Night, -and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the dæmon, who caused -this misery, until he or I shall perish in mortal conflict. For this -purpose I will preserve my life: to execute this dear revenge, will I -again behold the sun, and tread the green herbage of earth, which -otherwise should vanish from my eyes for ever. And I call on you, -spirits of the dead; and on you, wandering ministers of vengeance, to -aid and conduct me in my work. Let the cursed and hellish monster drink -deep of agony; let him feel the despair that now torments me." - -I had begun my adjuration with solemnity, and an awe which almost -assured me that the shades of my murdered friends heard and approved my -devotion; but the furies possessed me as I concluded, and rage choked my -utterance. - -I was answered through the stillness of night by a loud and fiendish -laugh. It rung on my ears long and heavily; the mountains re-echoed it, -and I felt as if all hell surrounded me with mockery and laughter. -Surely in that moment I should have been possessed by frenzy, and have -destroyed my miserable existence, but that my vow was heard, and that I -was reserved for vengeance. The laughter died away; when a well-known -and abhorred voice, apparently close to my ear, addressed me in an -audible whisper--"I am satisfied: miserable wretch! you have determined -to live, and I am satisfied." - -I darted towards the spot from which the sound proceeded; but the devil -eluded my grasp. Suddenly the broad disk of the moon arose, and shone -full upon his ghastly and distorted shape, as he fled with more than -mortal speed. - -I pursued him; and for many months this has been my task. Guided by a -slight clue, I followed the windings of the Rhone, but vainly. The blue -Mediterranean appeared; and, by a strange chance, I saw the fiend enter -by night, and hide himself in a vessel bound for the Black Sea. I took -my passage in the same ship; but he escaped, I know not how. - -Amidst the wilds of Tartary and Russia, although he still evaded me, I -have ever followed in his track. Sometimes the peasants, scared by this -horrid apparition, informed me of his path; sometimes he himself, who -feared that if I lost all trace of him, I should despair and die, left -some mark to guide me. The snows descended on my head, and I saw the -print of his huge step on the white plain. To you first entering on -life, to whom care is new, and agony unknown, how can you understand -what I have felt, and still feel? Cold, want, and fatigue, were the -least pains which I was destined to endure; I was cursed by some devil, -and carried about with me my eternal hell; yet still a spirit of good -followed and directed my steps; and, when I most murmured, would -suddenly extricate me from seemingly insurmountable difficulties. -Sometimes, when nature, overcome by hunger, sunk under the exhaustion, a -repast was prepared for me in the desert, that restored and inspirited -me. The fare was, indeed, coarse, such as the peasants of the country -ate; but I will not doubt that it was set there by the spirits that I -had invoked to aid me. Often, when all was dry, the heavens cloudless, -and I was parched by thirst, a slight cloud would bedim the sky, shed -the few drops that revived me, and vanish. - -I followed, when I could, the courses of the rivers; but the dæmon -generally avoided these, as it was here that the population of the -country chiefly collected. In other places human beings were seldom -seen; and I generally subsisted on the wild animals that crossed my -path. I had money with me, and gained the friendship of the villagers by -distributing it; or I brought with me some food that I had killed, -which, after taking a small part, I always presented to those who had -provided me with fire and utensils for cooking. - -My life, as it passed thus, was indeed hateful to me, and it was during -sleep alone that I could taste joy. O blessed sleep! often, when most -miserable, I sank to repose, and my dreams lulled me even to rapture. -The spirits that guarded me had provided these moments, or rather hours, -of happiness, that I might retain strength to fulfil my pilgrimage. -Deprived of this respite, I should have sunk under my hardships. During -the day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope of night: for in -sleep I saw my friends, my wife, and my beloved country; again I saw the -benevolent countenance of my father, heard the silver tones of my -Elizabeth's voice, and beheld Clerval enjoying health and youth. Often, -when wearied by a toilsome march, I persuaded myself that I was dreaming -until night should come, and that I should then enjoy reality in the -arms of my dearest friends. What agonising fondness did I feel for them! -how did I cling to their dear forms, as sometimes they haunted even my -waking hours, and persuade myself that they still lived! At such moments -vengeance, that burned within me, died in my heart, and I pursued my -path towards the destruction of the dæmon, more as a task enjoined by -heaven, as the mechanical impulse of some power of which I was -unconscious, than as the ardent desire of my soul. - -What his feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes, indeed, -he left marks in writing on the barks of the trees, or cut in stone, -that guided me, and instigated my fury. "My reign is not yet over," -(these words were legible in one of these inscriptions;) "you live, and -my power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices of the -north, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost, to which I am -impassive. You will find near this place, if you follow not too tardily, -a dead hare; eat, and be refreshed. Come on, my enemy; we have yet to -wrestle for our lives; but many hard and miserable hours must you endure -until that period shall arrive." - -Scoffing devil! Again do I vow vengeance; again do I devote thee, -miserable fiend, to torture and death. Never will I give up my search, -until he or I perish; and then with what ecstasy shall I join my -Elizabeth, and my departed friends, who even now prepare for me the -reward of my tedious toil and horrible pilgrimage! - -As I still pursued my journey to the northward, the snows thickened, and -the cold increased in a degree almost too severe to support. The -peasants were shut up in their hovels, and only a few of the most hardy -ventured forth to seize the animals whom starvation had forced from -their hiding-places to seek for prey. The rivers were covered with ice, -and no fish could be procured; and thus I was cut off from my chief -article of maintenance. - -The triumph of my enemy increased with the difficulty of my labours. One -inscription that he left was in these words:--"Prepare! your toils only -begin: wrap yourself in furs, and provide food; for we shall soon enter -upon a journey where your sufferings will satisfy my everlasting -hatred." - -My courage and perseverance were invigorated by these scoffing words; I -resolved not to fail in my purpose; and, calling on Heaven to support -me, I continued with unabated fervour to traverse immense deserts, until -the ocean appeared at a distance, and formed the utmost boundary of the -horizon. Oh! how unlike it was to the blue seas of the south! Covered -with ice, it was only to be distinguished from land by its superior -wildness and ruggedness. The Greeks wept for joy when they beheld the -Mediterranean from the hills of Asia, and hailed with rapture the -boundary of their toils. I did not weep; but I knelt down, and, with a -full heart, thanked my guiding spirit for conducting me in safety to the -place where I hoped, notwithstanding my adversary's gibe, to meet and -grapple with him. - -Some weeks before this period I had procured a sledge and dogs, and thus -traversed the snows with inconceivable speed. I know not whether the -fiend possessed the same advantages; but I found that, as before I had -daily lost ground in the pursuit, I now gained on him: so much so, that -when I first saw the ocean, he was but one day's journey in advance, and -I hoped to intercept him before he should reach the beach. With new -courage, therefore, I pressed on, and in two days arrived at a wretched -hamlet on the sea-shore. I enquired of the inhabitants concerning the -fiend, and gained accurate information. A gigantic monster, they said, -had arrived the night before, armed with a gun and many pistols; putting -to flight the inhabitants of a solitary cottage, through fear of his -terrific appearance. He had carried off their store of winter food, and, -placing it in a sledge, to draw which he had seized on a numerous drove -of trained dogs, he had harnessed them, and the same night, to the joy -of the horror-struck villagers, had pursued his journey across the sea -in a direction that led to no land; and they conjectured that he must -speedily be destroyed by the breaking of the ice, or frozen by the -eternal frosts. - -On hearing this information, I suffered a temporary access of despair. -He had escaped me; and I must commence a destructive and almost endless -journey across the mountainous ices of the ocean,--amidst cold that few -of the inhabitants could long endure, and which I, the native of a -genial and sunny climate, could not hope to survive. Yet at the idea -that the fiend should live and be triumphant, my rage and vengeance -returned, and, like a mighty tide, overwhelmed every other feeling. -After a slight repose, during which the spirits of the dead hovered -round, and instigated me to toil and revenge, I prepared for my journey. - -I exchanged my land-sledge for one fashioned for the inequalities of the -Frozen Ocean; and purchasing a plentiful stock of provisions, I departed -from land. - -I cannot guess how many days have passed since then; but I have endured -misery, which nothing but the eternal sentiment of a just retribution -burning within my heart could have enabled me to support. Immense and -rugged mountains of ice often barred up my passage, and I often heard -the thunder of the ground sea, which threatened my destruction. But -again the frost came, and made the paths of the sea secure. - -By the quantity of provision which I had consumed, I should guess that I -had passed three weeks in this journey; and the continual protraction of -hope, returning back upon the heart, often wrung bitter drops of -despondency and grief from my eyes. Despair had indeed almost secured -her prey, and I should soon have sunk beneath this misery. Once, after -the poor animals that conveyed me had with incredible toil gained the -summit of a sloping ice-mountain, and one, sinking under his fatigue, -died, I viewed the expanse before me with anguish, when suddenly my eye -caught a dark speck upon the dusky plain. I strained my sight to -discover what it could be, and uttered a wild cry of ecstasy when I -distinguished a sledge, and the distorted proportions of a well-known -form within. Oh! with what a burning gush did hope revisit my heart! -warm tears filled my eyes, which I hastily wiped away, that they might -not intercept the view I had of the dæmon; but still my sight was dimmed -by the burning drops, until, giving way to the emotions that oppressed -me, I wept aloud. - -But this was not the time for delay: I disencumbered the dogs of their -dead companion, gave them a plentiful portion of food; and, after an -hour's rest, which was absolutely necessary, and yet which was bitterly -irksome to me, I continued my route. The sledge was still visible; nor -did I again lose sight of it, except at the moments when for a short -time some ice-rock concealed it with its intervening crags. I indeed -perceptibly gained on it; and when, after nearly two days' journey, I -beheld my enemy at no more than a mile distant, my heart bounded within -me. - -But now, when I appeared almost within grasp of my foe, my hopes were -suddenly extinguished, and I lost all trace of him more utterly than I -had ever done before. A ground sea was heard; the thunder of its -progress, as the waters rolled and swelled beneath me, became every -moment more ominous and terrific. I pressed on, but in vain. The wind -arose; the sea roared; and, as with the mighty shock of an earthquake, -it split, and cracked with a tremendous and overwhelming sound. The work -was soon finished: in a few minutes a tumultuous sea rolled between me -and my enemy, and I was left drifting on a scattered piece of ice, that -was continually lessening, and thus preparing for me a hideous death. - -In this manner many appalling hours passed; several of my dogs died; and -I myself was about to sink under the accumulation of distress, when I -saw your vessel riding at anchor, and holding forth to me hopes of -succour and life. I had no conception that vessels ever came so far -north, and was astounded at the sight. I quickly destroyed part of my -sledge to construct oars; and by these means was enabled, with infinite -fatigue, to move my ice-raft in the direction of your ship. I had -determined, if you were going southward, still to trust myself to the -mercy of the seas rather than abandon my purpose. I hoped to induce you -to grant me a boat with which I could pursue my enemy. But your -direction was northward. You took me on board when my vigour was -exhausted, and I should soon have sunk under my multiplied hardships -into a death which I still dread--for my task is unfulfilled. - -Oh! when will my guiding spirit, in conducting me to the dæmon, allow me -the rest I so much desire; or must I die, and he yet live? If I do, -swear to me, Walton, that he shall not escape; that you will seek him, -and satisfy my vengeance in his death. And do I dare to ask of you to -undertake my pilgrimage, to endure the hardships that I have undergone? -No; I am not so selfish. Yet, when I am dead, if he should appear; if -the ministers of vengeance should conduct him to you, swear that he -shall not live--swear that he shall not triumph over my accumulated -woes, and survive to add to the list of his dark crimes. He is eloquent -and persuasive; and once his words had even power over my heart: but -trust him not. His soul is as hellish as his form, full of treachery and -fiendlike malice. Hear him not; call on the manes of William, Justine, -Clerval, Elizabeth, my father, and of the wretched Victor, and thrust -your sword into his heart. I will hover near, and direct the steel -aright. - - * * * * * - -WALTON, _in continuation_. - -August 26th, 17--. - -You have read this strange and terrific story, Margaret; and do you not -feel your blood congeal with horror, like that which even now curdles -mine? Sometimes, seized with sudden agony, he could not continue his -tale; at others, his voice broken, yet piercing, uttered with difficulty -the words so replete with anguish. His fine and lovely eyes were now -lighted up with indignation, now subdued to downcast sorrow, and -quenched in infinite wretchedness. Sometimes he commanded his -countenance and tones, and related the most horrible incidents with a -tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a -volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression -of the wildest rage, as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor. - -His tale is connected, and told with an appearance of the simplest -truth; yet I own to you that the letters of Felix and Safie, which he -showed me, and the apparition of the monster seen from our ship, brought -to me a greater conviction of the truth of his narrative than his -asseverations, however earnest and connected. Such a monster has then -really existence! I cannot doubt it; yet I am lost in surprise and -admiration. Sometimes I endeavoured to gain from Frankenstein the -particulars of his creature's formation: but on this point he was -impenetrable. - -"Are you mad, my friend?" said he; "or whither does your senseless -curiosity lead you? Would you also create for yourself and the world a -demoniacal enemy? Peace, peace! learn my miseries, and do not seek to -increase your own." - -Frankenstein discovered that I made notes concerning his history: he -asked to see them, and then himself corrected and augmented them in many -places; but principally in giving the life and spirit to the -conversations he held with his enemy. "Since you have preserved my -narration," said he, "I would not that a mutilated one should go down to -posterity." - -Thus has a week passed away, while I have listened to the strangest tale -that ever imagination formed. My thoughts, and every feeling of my soul, -have been drunk up by the interest for my guest, which this tale, and -his own elevated and gentle manners, have created. I wish to soothe him; -yet can I counsel one so infinitely miserable, so destitute of every -hope of consolation, to live? Oh, no! the only joy that he can now know -will be when he composes his shattered spirit to peace and death. Yet he -enjoys one comfort, the offspring of solitude and delirium: he believes, -that, when in dreams he holds converse with his friends, and derives -from that communion consolation for his miseries, or excitements to his -vengeance, that they are not the creations of his fancy, but the beings -themselves who visit him from the regions of a remote world. This faith -gives a solemnity to his reveries that render them to me almost as -imposing and interesting as truth. - -Our conversations are not always confined to his own history and -misfortunes. On every point of general literature he displays unbounded -knowledge, and a quick and piercing apprehension. His eloquence is -forcible and touching; nor can I hear him, when he relates a pathetic -incident, or endeavours to move the passions of pity or love, without -tears. What a glorious creature must he have been in the days of his -prosperity, when he is thus noble and godlike in ruin! He seems to feel -his own worth, and the greatness of his fall. - -"When younger," said he, "I believed myself destined for some great -enterprise. My feelings are profound; but I possessed a coolness of -judgment that fitted me for illustrious achievements. This sentiment of -the worth of my nature supported me, when others would have been -oppressed; for I deemed it criminal to throw away in useless grief those -talents that might be useful to my fellow-creatures. When I reflected on -the work I had completed, no less a one than the creation of a sensitive -and rational animal, I could not rank myself with the herd of common -projectors. But this thought, which supported me in the commencement of -my career, now serves only to plunge me lower in the dust. All my -speculations and hopes are as nothing; and, like the archangel who -aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell. My imagination -was vivid, yet my powers of analysis and application were intense; by -the union of these qualities I conceived the idea, and executed the -creation of a man. Even now I cannot recollect, without passion, my -reveries while the work was incomplete. I trod heaven in my thoughts, -now exulting in my powers, now burning with the idea of their effects. -From my infancy I was imbued with high hopes and a lofty ambition; but -how am I sunk! Oh! my friend, if you had known me as I once was, you -would not recognise me in this state of degradation. Despondency rarely -visited my heart; a high destiny seemed to bear me on, until I fell, -never, never again to rise." - -Must I then lose this admirable being? I have longed for a friend; I -have sought one who would sympathise with and love me. Behold, on these -desert seas I have found such a one; but, I fear, I have gained him only -to know his value, and lose him. I would reconcile him to life, but he -repulses the idea. - -"I thank you, Walton," he said, "for your kind intentions towards so -miserable a wretch; but when you speak of new ties, and fresh -affections, think you that any can replace those who are gone? Can any -man be to me as Clerval was; or any woman another Elizabeth? Even where -the affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, the -companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our -minds, which hardly any later friend can obtain. They know our infantine -dispositions, which, however they may be afterwards modified, are never -eradicated; and they can judge of our actions with more certain -conclusions as to the integrity of our motives. A sister or a brother -can never, unless indeed such symptoms have been shown early, suspect -the other of fraud or false dealing, when another friend, however -strongly he may be attached, may, in spite of himself, be contemplated -with suspicion. But I enjoyed friends, dear not only through habit and -association, but from their own merits; and wherever I am, the soothing -voice of my Elizabeth, and the conversation of Clerval, will be ever -whispered in my ear. They are dead; and but one feeling in such a -solitude can persuade me to preserve my life. If I were engaged in any -high undertaking or design, fraught with extensive utility to my -fellow-creatures, then could I live to fulfil it. But such is not my -destiny; I must pursue and destroy the being to whom I gave existence; -then my lot on earth will be fulfilled, and I may die." - - * * * * * - -September 2d. - -My beloved Sister, - -I write to you, encompassed by peril, and ignorant whether I am ever -doomed to see again dear England, and the dearer friends that inhabit -it. I am surrounded by mountains of ice, which admit of no escape, and -threaten every moment to crush my vessel. The brave fellows, whom I have -persuaded to be my companions, look towards me for aid; but I have none -to bestow. There is something terribly appalling in our situation, yet -my courage and hopes do not desert me. Yet it is terrible to reflect -that the lives of all these men are endangered through me. If we are -lost, my mad schemes are the cause. - -And what, Margaret, will be the state of your mind? You will not hear of -my destruction, and you will anxiously await my return. Years will pass, -and you will have visitings of despair, and yet be tortured by hope. Oh! -my beloved sister, the sickening failing of your heart-felt expectations -is, in prospect, more terrible to me than my own death. But you have a -husband, and lovely children; you may be happy: Heaven bless you, and -make you so! - -My unfortunate guest regards me with the tenderest compassion. He -endeavours to fill me with hope; and talks as if life were a possession -which he valued. He reminds me how often the same accidents have -happened to other navigators, who have attempted this sea, and, in spite -of myself, he fills me with cheerful auguries. Even the sailors feel the -power of his eloquence: when he speaks, they no longer despair; he -rouses their energies, and, while they hear his voice, they believe -these vast mountains of ice are mole-hills, which will vanish before the -resolutions of man. These feelings are transitory; each day of -expectation delayed fills them with fear, and I almost dread a mutiny -caused by this despair. - - -September 5th. - -A scene has just passed of such uncommon interest, that although it is -highly probable that these papers may never reach you, yet I cannot -forbear recording it. - -We are still surrounded by mountains of ice, still in imminent danger of -being crushed in their conflict. The cold is excessive, and many of my -unfortunate comrades have already found a grave amidst this scene of -desolation. Frankenstein has daily declined in health: a feverish fire -still glimmers in his eyes; but he is exhausted, and, when suddenly -roused to any exertion, he speedily sinks again into apparent -lifelessness. - -I mentioned in my last letter the fears I entertained of a mutiny. This -morning, as I sat watching the wan countenance of my friend--his eyes -half closed, and his limbs hanging listlessly,--I was roused by half a -dozen of the sailors, who demanded admission into the cabin. They -entered, and their leader addressed me. He told me that he and his -companions had been chosen by the other sailors to come in deputation to -me, to make me a requisition, which, in justice, I could not refuse. We -were immured in ice, and should probably never escape; but they feared -that if, as was possible, the ice should dissipate, and a free passage -be opened, I should be rash enough to continue my voyage, and lead them -into fresh dangers, after they might happily have surmounted this. They -insisted, therefore, that I should engage with a solemn promise, that if -the vessel should be freed I would instantly direct my course southward. - -This speech troubled me. I had not despaired; nor had I yet conceived -the idea of returning, if set free. Yet could I, in justice, or even in -possibility, refuse this demand? I hesitated before I answered; when -Frankenstein, who had at first been silent, and, indeed, appeared hardly -to have force enough to attend, now roused himself; his eyes sparkled, -and his cheeks flushed with momentary vigour. Turning towards the men, -he said-- - -"What do you mean? What do you demand of your captain? Are you then so -easily turned from your design? Did you not call this a glorious -expedition? And wherefore was it glorious? Not because the way was -smooth and placid as a southern sea, but because it was full of dangers -and terror; because, at every new incident, your fortitude was to be -called forth, and your courage exhibited; because danger and death -surrounded it, and these you were to brave and overcome. For this was it -a glorious, for this was it an honourable undertaking. You were -hereafter to be hailed as the benefactors of your species; your names -adored, as belonging to brave men who encountered death for honour, and -the benefit of mankind. And now, behold, with the first imagination of -danger, or, if you will, the first mighty and terrific trial of your -courage, you shrink away, and are content to be handed down as men who -had not strength enough to endure cold and peril; and so, poor souls, -they were chilly, and returned to their warm fire-sides. Why, that -requires not this preparation; ye need not have come thus far, and -dragged your captain to the shame of a defeat, merely to prove -yourselves cowards. Oh! be men, or be more than men. Be steady to your -purposes, and firm as a rock. This ice is not made of such stuff as your -hearts may be; it is mutable, and cannot withstand you, if you say that -it shall not. Do not return to your families with the stigma of disgrace -marked on your brows. Return, as heroes who have fought and conquered, -and who know not what it is to turn their backs on the foe." - -He spoke this with a voice so modulated to the different feelings -expressed in his speech, with an eye so full of lofty design and -heroism, that can you wonder that these men were moved? They looked at -one another, and were unable to reply. I spoke; I told them to retire, -and consider of what had been said: that I would not lead them farther -north, if they strenuously desired the contrary; but that I hoped that, -with reflection, their courage would return. - -They retired, and I turned towards my friend; but he was sunk in -languor, and almost deprived of life. - -How all this will terminate, I know not; but I had rather die than -return shamefully,--my purpose unfulfilled. Yet I fear such will be my -fate; the men, unsupported by ideas of glory and honour, can never -willingly continue to endure their present hardships. - - -September 7th. - -The die is cast; I have consented to return, if we are not destroyed. -Thus are my hopes blasted by cowardice and indecision; I come back -ignorant and disappointed. It requires more philosophy than I possess, -to bear this injustice with patience. - - -September 12th. - -It is past; I am returning to England. I have lost my hopes of utility -and glory;--I have lost my friend. But I will endeavour to detail these -bitter circumstances to you, my dear sister; and, while I am wafted -towards England, and towards you, I will not despond. - -September 9th, the ice began to move, and roarings like thunder were -heard at a distance, as the islands split and cracked in every -direction. We were in the most imminent peril; but, as we could only -remain passive, my chief attention was occupied by my unfortunate -guest, whose illness increased in such a degree, that he was entirely -confined to his bed. The ice cracked behind us, and was driven with -force towards the north; a breeze sprung from the west, and on the 11th -the passage towards the south became perfectly free. When the sailors -saw this, and that their return to their native country was apparently -assured, a shout of tumultuous joy broke from them, loud and -long-continued. Frankenstein, who was dozing, awoke, and asked the cause -of the tumult. "They shout," I said, "because they will soon return to -England." - -"Do you then really return?" - -"Alas! yes; I cannot withstand their demands. I cannot lead them -unwillingly to danger, and I must return." - -"Do so, if you will; but I will not. You may give up your purpose, but -mine is assigned to me by Heaven, and I dare not. I am weak; but surely -the spirits who assist my vengeance will endow me with sufficient -strength." Saying this, he endeavoured to spring from the bed, but the -exertion was too great for him; he fell back, and fainted. - -It was long before he was restored; and I often thought that life was -entirely extinct. At length he opened his eyes; he breathed with -difficulty, and was unable to speak. The surgeon gave him a composing -draught, and ordered us to leave him undisturbed. In the mean time he -told me, that my friend had certainly not many hours to live. - -His sentence was pronounced; and I could only grieve, and be patient. I -sat by his bed, watching him; his eyes were closed, and I thought he -slept; but presently he called to me in a feeble voice, and, bidding me -come near, said--"Alas! the strength I relied on is gone; I feel that I -shall soon die, and he, my enemy and persecutor, may still be in being. -Think not, Walton, that in the last moments of my existence I feel that -burning hatred, and ardent desire of revenge, I once expressed; but I -feel myself justified in desiring the death of my adversary. During -these last days I have been occupied in examining my past conduct; nor -do I find it blamable. In a fit of enthusiastic madness I created a -rational creature, and was bound towards him, to assure, as far as was -in my power, his happiness and well-being. This was my duty; but there -was another still paramount to that. My duties towards the beings of my -own species had greater claims to my attention, because they included a -greater proportion of happiness or misery. Urged by this view, I -refused, and I did right in refusing, to create a companion for the -first creature. He showed unparalleled malignity and selfishness, in -evil: he destroyed my friends; he devoted to destruction beings who -possessed exquisite sensations, happiness, and wisdom; nor do I know -where this thirst for vengeance may end. Miserable himself, that he may -render no other wretched, he ought to die. The task of his destruction -was mine, but I have failed. When actuated by selfish and vicious -motives, I asked you to undertake my unfinished work; and I renew this -request now, when I am only induced by reason and virtue. - -"Yet I cannot ask you to renounce your country and friends, to fulfil -this task; and now, that you are returning to England, you will have -little chance of meeting with him. But the consideration of these -points, and the well balancing of what you may esteem your duties, I -leave to you; my judgment and ideas are already disturbed by the near -approach of death. I dare not ask you to do what I think right, for I -may still be misled by passion. - -"That he should live to be an instrument of mischief disturbs me; in -other respects, this hour, when I momentarily expect my release, is the -only happy one which I have enjoyed for several years. The forms of the -beloved dead flit before me, and I hasten to their arms. Farewell, -Walton! Seek happiness in tranquillity, and avoid ambition, even if it -be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in -science and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself been -blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed." - -His voice became fainter as he spoke; and at length, exhausted by his -effort, he sunk into silence. About half an hour afterwards he attempted -again to speak, but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and his eyes -closed for ever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed away -from his lips. - -Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of this -glorious spirit? What can I say, that will enable you to understand the -depth of my sorrow? All that I should express would be inadequate and -feeble. My tears flow; my mind is overshadowed by a cloud of -disappointment. But I journey towards England, and I may there find -consolation. - -I am interrupted. What do these sounds portend? It is midnight; the -breeze blows fairly, and the watch on deck scarcely stir. Again; there -is a sound as of a human voice, but hoarser; it comes from the cabin -where the remains of Frankenstein still lie. I must arise, and examine. -Good night, my sister. - -Great God! what a scene has just taken place! I am yet dizzy with the -remembrance of it. I hardly know whether I shall have the power to -detail it; yet the tale which I have recorded would be incomplete -without this final and wonderful catastrophe. - -I entered the cabin, where lay the remains of my ill-fated and admirable -friend. Over him hung a form which I cannot find words to describe; -gigantic in stature, yet uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As he -hung over the coffin, his face was concealed by long locks of ragged -hair; but one vast hand was extended, in colour and apparent texture -like that of a mummy. When he heard the sound of my approach, he ceased -to utter exclamations of grief and horror, and sprung towards the -window. Never did I behold a vision so horrible as his face, of such -loathsome, yet appalling hideousness. I shut my eyes involuntarily, and -endeavoured to recollect what were my duties with regard to this -destroyer. I called on him to stay. - -He paused, looking on me with wonder; and, again turning towards the -lifeless form of his creator, he seemed to forget my presence, and every -feature and gesture seemed instigated by the wildest rage of some -uncontrollable passion. - -"That is also my victim!" he exclaimed: "in his murder my crimes are -consummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! Oh, -Frankenstein! generous and self-devoted being! what does it avail that -I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by -destroying all thou lovedst. Alas! he is cold, he cannot answer me." - -His voice seemed suffocated; and my first impulses, which had suggested -to me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend, in destroying -his enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and compassion. -I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again raise my eyes to -his face, there was something so scaring and unearthly in his ugliness. -I attempted to speak, but the words died away on my lips. The monster -continued to utter wild and incoherent self-reproaches. At length I -gathered resolution to address him in a pause of the tempest of his -passion: "Your repentance," I said, "is now superfluous. If you had -listened to the voice of conscience, and heeded the stings of remorse, -before you had urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity, -Frankenstein would yet have lived. - -"And do you dream?" said the dæmon; "do you think that I was then dead -to agony and remorse?--He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, "he -suffered not in the consummation of the deed--oh! not the ten-thousandth -portion of the anguish that was mine during the lingering detail of its -execution. A frightful selfishness hurried me on, while my heart was -poisoned with remorse. Think you that the groans of Clerval were music -to my ears? My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and -sympathy; and, when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not -endure the violence of the change, without torture such as you cannot -even imagine. - -"After the murder of Clerval, I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken -and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror: I -abhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of my -existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for happiness; -that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me, he sought -his own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the indulgence of which -I was for ever barred, then impotent envy and bitter indignation filled -me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I recollected my threat, -and resolved that it should be accomplished. I knew that I was preparing -for myself a deadly torture; but I was the slave, not the master, of an -impulse, which I detested, yet could not disobey. Yet when she -died!--nay, then I was not miserable. I had cast off all feeling, -subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my despair. Evil -thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no choice but to adapt -my nature to an element which I had willingly chosen. The completion of -my demoniacal design became an insatiable passion. And now it is ended; -there is my last victim!" - -I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when I -called to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence and -persuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of my -friend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said, "it is -well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have made. -You throw a torch into a pile of buildings; and, when they are consumed, -you sit among the ruins, and lament the fall. Hypocritical fiend! if he -whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, again would he -become the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not pity that you -feel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawn -from your power." - -"Oh, it is not thus--not thus," interrupted the being; "yet such must be -the impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of my -actions. Yet I seek not a fellow-feeling in my misery. No sympathy may I -ever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, the -feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being -overflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now, that virtue has -become to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned into -bitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I am -content to suffer alone, while my sufferings shall endure: when I die, I -am well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my memory. -Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of -enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings, who, pardoning my -outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was -capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and -devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No -guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to -mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannot -believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled with -sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of -goodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. -Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his -desolation; I am alone. - -"You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my -crimes and his misfortunes. But, in the detail which he gave you of -them, he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I -endured, wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, -I did not satisfy my own desires. They were for ever ardent and craving; -still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was there -no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when all -human kind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove his -friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic -who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these are virtuous -and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an -abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now my -blood boils at the recollection of this injustice. - -"But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the -helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept, and grasped to -death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I have -devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of love -and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to that -irremediable ruin. There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me; -but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look -on the hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the -imagination of it was conceived, and long for the moment when these -hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts no -more. - -"Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work is -nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed to -consummate the series of my being, and accomplish that which must be -done; but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to -perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice-raft which -brought me thither, and shall seek the most northern extremity of the -globe; I shall collect my funeral pile, and consume to ashes this -miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious and -unhallowed wretch, who would create such another as I have been. I shall -die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me, or be the -prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who called me -into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us both -will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars, or feel -the winds play on my cheeks. Light, feeling, and sense will pass away; -and in this condition must I find my happiness. Some years ago, when the -images which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt the -cheering warmth of summer, and heard the rustling of the leaves and the -warbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept to -die; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes, and torn by the -bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death? - -"Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of human kind whom these -eyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive, -and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be better -satiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thou -didst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness; -and if yet, in some mode unknown to me, thou hadst not ceased to think -and feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater than -that which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to -thine; for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my -wounds until death shall close them for ever. - -"But soon," he cried, with sad and solemn enthusiasm, "I shall die, and -what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be -extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly, and exult in the -agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will fade -away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit will -sleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. -Farewell." - -He sprung from the cabin-window, as he said this, upon the ice-raft -which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves, and -lost in darkness and distance. - - -THE END. - - - LONDON: - Printed by A. & R Spottiswoode, - New-Street-Square. - - [Transcriber's Note: Possible printer errors corrected: - Line 2863: "I do no not fear to die" to "I do now not fear to die" - Line 6375: "fulfil the wishes of you parents" to "your parents"] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Frankenstein, by Mary W. Shelley - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRANKENSTEIN *** - -***** This file should be named 42324-8.txt or 42324-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/3/2/42324/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at - www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email -contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the -Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |
