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fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of my misfortunes, I had

conceived a violent antipathy even to .

the name of natural philosophy. When I was otherwise quite restored to health, the sight of a chemical instrument would renew all the agony of my nervous symptoms. Henry saw this, and had removed all my apparatus from my view. He had also changed my apartment; for he perceived that I had acquired a dislike for the room which had previously been my laboratory.

But these cares of Clerval were made

of no avail when I visited the professors. M. Waldman inflicted torture when he praised, with kindness and warmth, the astonishing progress l had made in the sciences. He soon perceived that I disliked the subject; but, not guessing the real cause, he attributed my feelings to modesty, and

changed the subject from my improve

ment to the science itself, with a desire, as I evidently saw, of drawing me out. What could I do? He meant to please, and he tormented me. I felt as if he had placed carefully, one by one, in my view those instruments which were to be afterwards used in putting me to

a slow and cruel death. I writhed

under his words, yet dared not exhibit the pain I felt. Clerval, whose eyes and feelings were always quick in discerning the sensations of others, declined the subject, alleging, in excuse, his total ignorance; and the conversation took a more general turn. I thanked my friend from my heart, but I did not speak. I saw plainly that he was surprised, but he never attempted to draw my secret from me; and although I loved him with a mixture of affection and reverence that knew no. be unds, yet I could never persuade myself to confide to him that event which was so often present to my recolléction, but which I feared the detail to another would only impress more deeply. M. Krempe was not equally docile; and in my condition at that time, of almost insupportable sensitiveness, his harsh blunt encomiums gave me even more pain than the benevolent approbation of M. Waldman. “ D–n the fellow !” cried he ; “why, M. Clerval, I assure you he has outstript us all.

Aye, stare if you please; but it is ne

vertheless true. A youngster who, but a few years ago, believed Cornelius Agrippa as firmly as the gospel, has now set himself at the head of the university; and if he is not soon pulled down, we shall all be out of countenance.—Aye, aye,” continued he, ob

i

serving my face expressive of suffering,
“M. Frankenstein is modest; an excel-
lent quality in a young man. Young
men should be diffident of themselves,
you know, M. Clerval; I was myself
when young : but that wears out in a
very short time.”
M. Krenipe had now commenced an
eulogy on himself, which happily turned
the conversation from a subject that
was so annoying to me.
Clerval was no natural philosopher.
His imagination was too vivid for the
minutiae of science. Languages were his
principal study; and he sought, by ac-
quiring their elements, to open a field for
self-instruction on his return to Geneva.

Persian, Arabic, and Hebrew, gained

his attention, after he had made himself perfectly master of Greek and Latin. For my own part, idleness had ever been irksome to me; and now that I wished to fly from reflection, and hated my former studies, I felt great relief in being the fellow-pupil with my friend, and

found not only instruction but consola

tion in the works of the orientalists. Their melancholy is soothing, and their joy elevating to a degree I never experienced in studying the authors of any other country. When you read their writings, life appears to consist in a warm sun and garden of roses, in the smiles and frowns of a fair enemy, and the fire that consumes your own heart. How different from the manly and heroical poetry of Greece and Rome.

Summer passed away in these oc

cupations, and my return to Geneva

was fixed for the latter end of autumn;

but being delayed by several accidents,

winter and snow arrived, the roads were

deemed impassable, and my journey

was retarded until the ensuing spring.

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