Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.10-24
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 sympathize 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." `
` `
` `
` My beloved Sister, September 2nd `
` `
` `
` 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 southwards. `
` `
` 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 firesides. 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 sprang 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 meantime 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; `
`
` admirable being? I have longed for a friend; I have sought one who `
` would sympathize 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." `
` `
` `
` My beloved Sister, September 2nd `
` `
` `
` 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 southwards. `
` `
` 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 firesides. 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 sprang 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 meantime 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; `
`