My favourite authors promised to call the ghosts or devils. If my incantations were always unsuccessful, I attributed the failure to my own inexperience and mistake.
When I was about fifteen years old we moved to our house near Belrive. My tormenting studies led to the evil. Destiny was potent, and its immutable laws decreed my terrible destruction.
Chapter 3
When I was seventeen I became a student at the university of Ingolstadt. My departure was fixed, but then the first misfortune of my life occurred an omen of my future misery.
Elizabeth caught the scarlet fever[9]. Her illness was severe, and she was in danger. My mother could not control her anxiety. She attended her sickbed. Elizabeth was saved, but the sickness was fatal to her saviour. On the third day my mother sickened. On her deathbed this best of women joined the hands of Elizabeth and myself.
My children, she said, Alas! I regret that I go away from you. Love each other, I hope to meet you in another world.
She died calmly. The day of my departure for Ingolstadt at length arrived. Clerval spent the last evening with us. He persuaded his father to permit him to accompany me and to become my fellow student, but in vain. His father was a trader.
My journey to Ingolstadt was long and fatiguing. At length I saw the high white steeple of the town. The next morning I delivered my letters of introduction[10] and paid a visit to some professors. Chance or rather the Angel of Destruction led me to M. Krempe, professor of natural philosophy. He was an uncouth man, but an excellent scientist. He wrote down a list of several books on natural philosophy for me to read.
M. Krempe gave me information about the lectures of M.Waldman. So I went into the lecturing room, which M. Waldman entered shortly after. This professor was very unlike his colleague. He was about fifty. A few grey hairs covered his temples. His person was short but remarkably erect and his voice was sweet.
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 have indeed performed miracles. They penetrate into the recesses of nature and show how it works. They ascend into the heavens. They have discovered how the blood circulates, and the nature of the air we breathe.
Such were the professor's words. Soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose. The soul of Frankenstein exclaimed: I will achieve more, far more. I will explore unknown powers and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.
I did not close my eyes that night. After the morning's dawn, sleep came. I awoke. I wanted to return to my ancient studies. On the same day I visited
M. Waldman. His manners were even more mild and attractive. He smiled at the names of Cornelius, Agrippa and Paracelsus. He said,
These men helped modern philosophers a lot. They left to us an easy task. The labours of men of genius lead to the advantage of mankind.
I asked him about the books to read.
I am happy, said M. Waldman, to have a disciple. If your application equals your ability, I have no doubt of your success. If you wish to become a real scientist and not merely an experimentalist, I advise you to study every branch of natural philosophy, including mathematics.
He then took me into his laboratory and explained to me the uses of his various machines. He also gave me the list of books. That day decided my future destiny.
Chapter 4
From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, became my sole occupation. I read with ardour those works, I attended the lectures. In M. Waldman I found a true friend. In a thousand ways he smoothed for me the path of knowledge and made the most abstruse inquiries clear and facile.
My progress was rapid. Two years passed in this manner, during which I did not come to Geneva. I hoped to make great discoveries.
One of the phenomena which peculiarly attracted my attention was the structure of the human body. Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life come? It was a bold question. I began to study physiology. My application to this study was irksome and almost intolerable. To examine the causes of life, we must first examine death. I studied the science of anatomy, but this was not sufficient. I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the human body!
I was not afraid of darkness, and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies, which became food for the worm. Now I wanted to examine the cause and progress of this decay and spent days and nights in vaults. I saw how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted. I beheld the corruption of death; I saw how the worm inherited the eye and brain.
Remember, I am not a madman. After days and nights of incredible labour and fatigue, I discovered the cause of life. Moreover, I knew how to animate the lifeless matter.
The astonishment soon gave place to delight and rapture. This discovery was great and overwhelming.
I see, my friend, that you expect to hear that secret. That cannot be. Listen patiently until the end of my story, and you will easily perceive why not.
I found a power within my hands. But where to employ it? I could animate a lifeless body. How to prepare a frame for it? With all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins. I wanted to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. So I began the creation of a human being. I resolved to make the gigantic being, about eight feet in height. I collected and arranged my materials, and then I began.
I was the first man to know the secret of life and death! a new species will bless me as its creator. If I can bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I can renew life.
These thoughts supported my spirits. My cheek were pale with study, and my person was emaciated with confinement. Sometimes I failed; yet still I believed in success. One secret which I alone possessed was my hope to which I dedicated myself. I will be able to animate the lifeless clay! It was indeed a trance. I collected bones from charnel-houses and studies, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary chamber, at the top of the house,
I had my workshop of filthy creation.
The summer months passed. It was a most beautiful season, but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature. The great object swallowed up every piece of my nature.
My father inquired 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 leaves so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation. I appeared rather like a slave than an artist. Sometimes I was alarmed at the wreck I became. The energy of my purpose alone sustained me. My labours will soon end. Exercise and amusement will then drive away incipient disease. Soon my creation will be complete!
Chapter 5
On a dreary night of November I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety, I collected the instruments of life around me. I wanted to infuse a spark of life into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one o'clock in the morning. I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature. It breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe? What a wretch! Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath. His hair was of black. His teeth were pearly white. But these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
I worked hard for nearly two years. I wanted to infuse life into an inanimate body. For this I deprived myself of rest and health. But now the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. I rushed out of the room. I threw myself on the bed in my clothes. But I was unable to sleep.
Then I slept, indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I saw Elizabeth. She walked in the streets of Ingolstadt. I embraced her. But as I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death. Her features changed, and I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms. I saw the grave-worms in the folds of the flannel.
I woke up with horror. A cold dew covered my forehead. My teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed. By the dim and yellow light of the moon, I beheld the wretch the miserable monster whom I created. He looked at me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds. A grin wrinkled his cheeks. He spoke, but I did not hear.
I rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the courtyard, where I remained during the rest of the night, in the greatest agitation. Oh! No man could support the horror of that countenance. A mummy was not so hideous as that wretch.
I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so quickly that I felt the palpitation of every artery. Sometimes I nearly sank to the ground through languor and extreme weakness. I felt the bitterness of disappointment.
Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned. The porter opened the gates of the court, and I issued into the streets. I did not dare return to the apartment which I inhabited.
I walked for some time. 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.
I came at length[11] to the inn. Here I paused. I saw a coach that was coming towards me from the other end of the street. It was the Swiss diligence. It stopped where I was, and on the door I perceived Henry Clerval. He saw me and exclaimed,
My dear Frankenstein, how glad I am to see you! How fortunate that you are here!
I was very happy to meet Clerval. His presence brought back to my thoughts my father, Elizabeth, and all scenes of sweet home. I grasped his hand, and in a moment forgot my horror and misfortune. I welcomed my friend, and we walked towards my college. Clerval talked for some time about our mutual friends and his own luck 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 in the book-keeping[12]. He said: 'I have ten thousand florins a year without Greek, I eat heartily without Greek.' But his affection for me overcame his dislike of university. So he permitted me to undertake this voyage to the land of knowledge.
It gives me the greatest delight to see you. But tell me: how are my father, brothers, and Elizabeth?
Very well, and very happy. But they hear from you so seldom. But, my dear Frankenstein, continued he, you look very ill; so thin and pale. You look as if you don't sleep at all.
You are right. 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. We soon arrived at my college. I then reflected, that the creature was still in my apartment. I dreaded to behold this monster, but I feared still more that Henry could see him. I asked Henry, therefore, to remain a few minutes at the bottom of the stairs. I went up towards my room. I then paused. I opened the door; but nothing appeared. I stepped fearfully in: the apartment was empty, and my bedroom was also free from its hideous guest. My enemy went away. I clapped my hands for joy and ran down to Clerval.
We ascended into my room, and the servant brought breakfast. Great joy possessed me. My pulse beat rapidly. I was unable to remain in the same place. I jumped over the chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. Clerval saw a wildness in my eyes, and my loud, unrestrained, heartless laughter frightened and astonished him.
My dear Victor, cried he, what 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. I put my hands before my eyes. I thought I saw the dreaded spectre. It glided into the room. He can tell. Oh, save me! Save me! I imagined that the monster seized me. I struggled furiously and fell down.
Poor Clerval! But I was not the witness of his grief, for I was lifeless and did not recover my senses[13] 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. He concealed the extent of my disorder from my father and Elizabeth.
But I was very ill. The form of the monster was before my eyes, and I talked about him. Doubtless my words surprised Henry. He understood that my disorder indeed owed its origin to some uncommon and terrible event.
I recovered very slowly. In spring I felt sentiments of joy and affection. Then I became as cheerful as before.
Dearest Clerval, exclaimed I, how kind, how very good you are to me! You spent all this winter in my sick room. How shall I ever repay you?
You will repay me entirely if you do not discompose yourself. Get well as fast as you can. Then I want to speak to you on one subject.
I trembled. One subject! What is it?
Compose yourself, said Clerval, who observed my change of colour, I will not mention it if it agitates you. Your father and cousin will be very happy if they receive a letter from you. They hardly know how ill you have been and are uneasy at your long silence.
Is that all, my dear Henry?
And you will perhaps be glad to see a letter from your cousin, I believe.
Chapter 6
Clerval then put the letter into my hands. It was from my Elizabeth:
My dearest Cousin,
You have been ill, very ill, and even the constant letters of dear kind Henry are not sufficient to calm me. You can't write, you can't hold a pen. I have restrained my uncle from a journey to Ingolstadt. This long journey can be dangerous for him. Clerval writes that indeed you are getting better[14]. I eagerly hope that you will confirm these words.
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 wants to see you. Our Ernest is now sixteen and full of activity. He wants to be a true Swiss and to enter into foreign service. My uncle does not like the idea of a military career in a distant country.
Since you left us, one change has taken place in our little household. Do you remember how Justine Moritz entered our family? Probably you do not. I will relate her history, in a few words. Madame Moritz, her mother, was a widow with four children, of whom Justine was the third. Her mother did not like her, and after the death of M. Moritz, treated her very ill[15]. My aunt observed this, and when Justine was twelve, asked her mother to allow her to live at our house. In our family, Justine learned the duties of a servant. My aunt liked her very much and gave her an excellent education. Justine was the most grateful little creature in the world.
One by one, her brothers and sister died; and her mother became childless. So she began to think that the deaths of her children was a judgement from heaven. A few months after your departure for Ingolstadt, Justine's repentant mother called her home. Poor girl! She wept when she quitted our house.
But her mother was very vacillating in her repentance. She sometimes begged Justine to forgive her unkindness, but much oftener accused her of the deaths of her brothers and sister. Madame Moritz died on the first approach of cold weather. Justine returned to us.
I must say also a few words to you, my dear cousin, of little darling William. He is very tall, with sweet blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and curling hair. When he smiles, two little dimples appear on each cheek, which are rosy.
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.
Elizabeth Lavenza.
Geneva, March 18th, 17-.