Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus Read online

  LETTER IV.

  _To Mrs. Saville, England._

  August 5th, 17--.

  So strange an accident has happened to us, that I cannot forbearrecording it, although it is very probable that you will see me beforethese papers can come into your possession.

  Last Monday (July 31st), we were nearly surrounded by ice, which closedin the ship on all sides, scarcely leaving her the sea-room in which shefloated. Our situation was somewhat dangerous, especially as we werecompassed round by a very thick fog. We accordingly lay to, hoping thatsome change would take place in the atmosphere and weather.

  About two o'clock the mist cleared away, and we beheld, stretched out inevery direction, vast and irregular plains of ice, which seemed to haveno end. Some of my comrades groaned, and my own mind began to growwatchful with anxious thoughts, when a strange sight suddenly attractedour attention, and diverted our solicitude from our own situation. Weperceived a low carriage, fixed on a sledge and drawn by dogs, pass ontowards the north, at the distance of half a mile: a being which had theshape of a man, but apparently of gigantic stature, sat in the sledge,and guided the dogs. We watched the rapid progress of the traveller withour telescopes, until he was lost among the distant inequalities of theice.

  This appearance excited our unqualified wonder. We were, as we believed,many hundred miles from any land; but this apparition seemed to denotethat 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 hadobserved with the greatest attention.

  About two hours after this occurrence, we heard the ground sea; andbefore night the ice broke, and freed our ship. We, however, lay tountil the morning, fearing to encounter in the dark those large loosemasses which float about after the breaking up of the ice. I profitedof this time to rest for a few hours.

  In the morning, however, as soon as it was light, I went upon deck, andfound all the sailors busy on one side of the vessel, apparently talkingto some one in the sea. It was, in fact, a sledge, like that we had seenbefore, which had drifted towards us in the night, on a large fragmentof ice. Only one dog remained alive; but there was a human being withinit, whom the sailors were persuading to enter the vessel. He was not, asthe other traveller seemed to be, a savage inhabitant of someundiscovered island, but an European. When I appeared on deck, themaster said, "Here is our captain, and he will not allow you to perishon the open sea."

  On perceiving me, the stranger addressed me in English, although with aforeign accent. "Before I come on board your vessel," said he, "willyou have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound?"

  You may conceive my astonishment on hearing such a question addressed tome from a man on the brink of destruction, and to whom I should havesupposed that my vessel would have been a resource which he would nothave exchanged for the most precious wealth the earth can afford. Ireplied, however, that we were on a voyage of discovery towards thenorthern 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 hissafety, your surprise would have been boundless. His limbs were nearlyfrozen, and his body dreadfully emaciated by fatigue and suffering. Inever saw a man in so wretched a condition. We attempted to carry himinto 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 toanimation by rubbing him with brandy, and forcing him to swallow a smallquantity. As soon as he showed signs of life we wrapped him up inblankets, and placed him near the chimney of the kitchen stove. By slowdegrees he recovered, and ate a little soup, which restored himwonderfully.

  Two days passed in this manner before he was able to speak; and I oftenfeared that his sufferings had deprived him of understanding. When hehad in some measure recovered, I removed him to my own cabin, andattended on him as much as my duty would permit. I never saw a moreinteresting creature: his eyes have generally an expression of wildness,and even madness; but there are moments when, if any one performs an actof kindness towards him, or does him any the most trifling service, hiswhole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolenceand sweetness that I never saw equalled. But he is generally melancholyand despairing; and sometimes he gnashes his teeth, as if impatient ofthe weight of woes that oppresses him.

  When my guest was a little recovered, I had great trouble to keep offthe men, who wished to ask him a thousand questions; but I would notallow him to be tormented by their idle curiosity, in a state of bodyand mind whose restoration evidently depended upon entire repose. Once,however, the lieutenant asked, Why he had come so far upon the ice in sostrange a vehicle?

  His countenance instantly assumed an aspect of the deepest gloom; and hereplied, "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, wesaw some dogs drawing a sledge, with a man in it, across the ice."

  This aroused the stranger's attention; and he asked a multitude ofquestions concerning the route which the daemon, as he called him, hadpursued. 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 totrouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine."

  "And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you havebenevolently restored me to life."

  Soon after this he enquired if I thought that the breaking up of the icehad destroyed the other sledge? I replied, that I could not answer withany degree of certainty; for the ice had not broken until near midnight,and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety before thattime; but of this I could not judge.

  From this time a new spirit of life animated the decaying frame of thestranger. He manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck, to watchfor the sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him toremain in the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness ofthe atmosphere. I have promised that some one should watch for him, andgive him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight.

  Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to thepresent day. The stranger has gradually improved in health, but is verysilent, and appears uneasy when any one except myself enters his cabin.Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle, that the sailors are allinterested in him, although they have had very little communication withhim. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother; and his constantand deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must have beena noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck soattractive and amiable.

  I said in one of my letters, my dear Margaret, that I should find nofriend on the wide ocean; yet I have found a man who, before his spirithad been broken by misery, I should have been happy to have possessed asthe brother of my heart.

  I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, shouldI have any fresh incidents to record.

  August 13th, 17--.

  My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once myadmiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so noblea creature destroyed by misery, without feeling the most poignant grief?He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated; and when hespeaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, yet theyflow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence.

  He is now much recovered from his illness, and is continually on thedeck, apparently watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet,although unhappy, he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery, butthat he interests himself deeply in the projects of others. He hasfrequently conversed with me on mine, which I have communicated to himwithout disguise. He entered attentively into all my arguments in favourof my eventual success, and into every minute detail of the measures Ihad taken to secure it. I
was easily led by the sympathy which heevinced, to use the language of my heart; to give utterance to theburning ardour of my soul; and to say, with all the fervour that warmedme, how gladly I would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my everyhope, to the furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death werebut a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which Isought; for the dominion I should acquire and transmit over theelemental foes of our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over mylistener's countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppresshis emotion; he placed his hands before his eyes; and my voice quiveredand failed me, as I beheld tears trickle fast from between hisfingers,--a groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused;--at length hespoke, in broken accents:--"Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Haveyou drank also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me,--let me reveal mytale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!"

  Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but theparoxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakenedpowers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation werenecessary to restore his composure.

  Having conquered the violence of his feelings, he appeared to despisehimself for being the slave of passion; and quelling the dark tyranny ofdespair, he led me again to converse concerning myself personally. Heasked me the history of my earlier years. The tale was quickly told:but it awakened various trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire offinding a friend--of my thirst for a more intimate sympathy with afellow mind than had ever fallen to my lot; and expressed my convictionthat a man could boast of little happiness, who did not enjoy thisblessing.

  "I agree with you," replied the stranger; "we are unfashioned creatures,but half made up, if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves--such afriend ought to be--do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak andfaulty natures. I once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures,and am entitled, therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You havehope, and the world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I--Ihave lost every thing, and cannot begin life anew."

  As he said this, his countenance became expressive of a calm settledgrief, that touched me to the heart. But he was silent, and presentlyretired to his cabin.

  Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he doesthe beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sightafforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power ofelevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he maysuffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he hasretired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit, that has ahalo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.

  Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divinewanderer? You would not, if you saw him. You have been tutored andrefined by books and retirement from the world, and you are, therefore,somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit toappreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes Ihave endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses, thatelevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. Ibelieve it to be an intuitive discernment; a quick but never-failingpower of judgment; a penetration into the causes of things, unequalledfor clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression, and avoice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music.

  August 19. 17--.

  Yesterday the stranger said to me, "You may easily perceive, CaptainWalton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I haddetermined, at one time, that the memory of these evils should die withme; but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek forknowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that thegratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as minehas been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be usefulto 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 maydirect you if you succeed in your undertaking, and console you in caseof failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually deemedmarvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature, I might fear toencounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule; but many things willappear possible in these wild and mysterious regions, which wouldprovoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powersof nature:--nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its seriesinternal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed."

  You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offeredcommunication; yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief bya recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear thepromised narrative, partly from curiosity, and partly from a strongdesire to ameliorate his fate, if it were in my power. I expressed thesefeelings in my answer.

  "I thank you," he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; myfate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shallrepose in peace. I understand your feeling," continued he, perceivingthat I wished to interrupt him; "but you are mistaken, my friend, ifthus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny: listento my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined."

  He then told me, that he would commence his narrative the next day whenI should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. Ihave resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by myduties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he hasrelated during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least makenotes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest pleasure:but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own lips, with whatinterest and sympathy shall I read it in some future day! Even now, as Icommence my task, his full-toned voice swells in my ears; his lustrouseyes dwell on me with all their melancholy sweetness; I see his thinhand raised in animation, while the lineaments of his face areirradiated by the soul within. Strange and harrowing must be his story;frightful the storm which embraced the gallant vessel on its course, andwrecked it--thus!