Chapter 15
"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 ecstasy, 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
forever 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 sank 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 sympathized 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. Everything 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 meantime, 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
sympathizing 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 sympathized 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 of grass 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 realize 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 to
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 forever.'
"`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 forever 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 forever. 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 sank 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."
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