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 daemon 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 daemon 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
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 daemon 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 rang 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 mainland. 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 daemon 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 sank 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 rang 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 meantime 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 daemon. 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
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 sank
and then sailed away from the spot. The sky became clouded, but the air was
pure, although chilled by the northeast 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, everything
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 northeast 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. "Maybe
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 it
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 inquired 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
"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
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