CHAPTER XIX.

London was our present point of rest; we determined to remain several

months in this wonderful and celebrated city. Clerval desired the

intercourse of the men of genius and talent who flourished at this time;

but this was with me a secondary object; I was principally occupied with

the means of obtaining the information necessary for the completion of

my promise, and quickly availed myself of the letters of introduction

that I had brought with me, addressed to the most distinguished natural

philosophers.

If this journey had taken place during my days of study and happiness,

it would have afforded me inexpressible pleasure. But a blight had come

over my existence, and I only visited these people for the sake of the

information they might give me on the subject in which my interest was

so terribly profound. Company was irksome to me; when alone, I could

fill my mind with the sights of heaven and earth; the voice of Henry

soothed me, and I could thus cheat myself into a transitory peace. But

busy uninteresting joyous faces brought back despair to my heart. I saw

an insurmountable barrier placed between me and my fellow-men; this

barrier was sealed with the blood of William and Justine; and to reflect

on the events connected with those names filled my soul with anguish.

But in Clerval I saw the image of my former self; he was inquisitive,

and anxious to gain experience and instruction. The difference of

manners which he observed was to him an inexhaustible source of

instruction and amusement. He was also pursuing an object he had long

had in view. His design was to visit India, in the belief that he had in

his knowledge of its various languages, and in the views he had taken of

its society, the means of materially assisting the progress of European

colonisation and trade. In Britain only could he further the execution

of his plan. He was for ever busy; and the only check to his enjoyments

was my sorrowful and dejected mind. I tried to conceal this as much as

possible, that I might not debar him from the pleasures natural to one,

who was entering on a new scene of life, undisturbed by any care or

bitter recollection. I often refused to accompany him, alleging another

engagement, that I might remain alone. I now also began to collect the

materials necessary for my new creation, and this was to me like the

torture of single drops of water continually falling on the head. Every

thought that was devoted to it was an extreme anguish, and every word

that I spoke in allusion to it caused my lips to quiver, and my heart to

palpitate.

After passing some months in London, we received a letter from a person

in Scotland, who had formerly been our visiter at Geneva. He mentioned

the beauties of his native country, and asked us if those were not

sufficient allurements to induce us to prolong our journey as far north

as Perth, where he resided. Clerval eagerly desired to accept this

invitation; and I, although I abhorred society, wished to view again

mountains and streams, and all the wondrous works with which Nature

adorns her chosen dwelling-places.

We had arrived in England at the beginning of October, and it was now

February. We accordingly determined to commence our journey towards the

north at the expiration of another month. In this expedition we did not

intend to follow the great road to Edinburgh, but to visit Windsor,

Oxford, Matlock, and the Cumberland lakes, resolving to arrive at the

completion of this tour about the end of July. I packed up my chemical

instruments, and the materials I had collected, resolving to finish my

labours in some obscure nook in the northern highlands of Scotland.

We quitted London on the 27th of March, and remained a few days at

Windsor, rambling in its beautiful forest. This was a new scene to us

mountaineers; the majestic oaks, the quantity of game, and the herds of

stately deer, were all novelties to us.

From thence we proceeded to Oxford. As we entered this city, our minds

were filled with the remembrance of the events that had been transacted

there more than a century and a half before. It was here that Charles I.

had collected his forces. This city had remained faithful to him, after

the whole nation had forsaken his cause to join the standard of

parliament and liberty. The memory of that unfortunate king, and his

companions, the amiable Falkland, the insolent Goring, his queen, and

son, gave a peculiar interest to every part of the city, which they

might be supposed to have inhabited. The spirit of elder days found a

dwelling here, and we delighted to trace its footsteps. If these

feelings had not found an imaginary gratification, the appearance of the

city had yet in itself sufficient beauty to obtain our admiration. The

colleges are ancient and picturesque; the streets are almost

magnificent; and the lovely Isis, which flows beside it through meadows

of exquisite verdure, is spread forth into a placid expanse of waters,

which reflects its majestic assemblage of towers, and spires, and domes,

embosomed among aged trees.

I enjoyed this scene; and yet my enjoyment was embittered both by the

memory of the past, and the anticipation of the future. I was formed for

peaceful happiness. During my youthful days discontent never visited my

mind; and if I was ever overcome by _ennui_, the sight of what is

beautiful in nature, or the study of what is excellent and sublime in

the productions of man, could always interest my heart, and communicate

elasticity to my spirits. But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered

my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit, what I shall

soon cease to be--a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to

others, and intolerable to myself.

We passed a considerable period at Oxford, rambling among its environs,

and endeavouring to identify every spot which might relate to the most

animating epoch of English history. Our little voyages of discovery were

often prolonged by the successive objects that presented themselves. We

visited the tomb of the illustrious Hampden, and the field on which that

patriot fell. For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and

miserable fears, to contemplate the divine ideas of liberty and

self-sacrifice, of which these sights were the monuments and the

remembrancers. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains, and look

around me with a free and lofty spirit; but the iron had eaten into my

flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self.

We left Oxford with regret, and proceeded to Matlock, which was our next

place of rest. The country in the neighbourhood of this village

resembled, to a greater degree, the scenery of Switzerland; but every

thing is on a lower scale, and the green hills want the crown of distant

white Alps, which always attend on the piny mountains of my native

country. We visited the wondrous cave, and the little cabinets of

natural history, where the curiosities are disposed in the same manner

as in the collections at Servox and Chamounix. The latter name made me

tremble, when pronounced by Henry; and I hastened to quit Matlock, with

which that terrible scene was thus associated.

From Derby, still journeying northward, we passed two months in

Cumberland and Westmorland. I could now almost fancy myself among the

Swiss mountains. The little patches of snow which yet lingered on the

northern sides of the mountains, the lakes, and the dashing of the rocky

streams, were all familiar and dear sights to me. Here also we made some

acquaintances, who almost contrived to cheat me into happiness. The

delight of Clerval was proportionably greater than mine; his mind

expanded in the company of men of talent, and he found in his own nature

greater capacities and resources than he could have imagined himself to

have possessed while he associated with his inferiors. "I could pass my

life here," said he to me; "and among these mountains I should scarcely

regret Switzerland and the Rhine."

But he found that a traveller's life is one that includes much pain

amidst its enjoyments. His feelings are for ever on the stretch; and

when he begins to sink into repose, he finds himself obliged to quit

that on which he rests in pleasure for something new, which again

engages his attention, and which also he forsakes for other novelties.

We had scarcely visited the various lakes of Cumberland and Westmorland,

and conceived an affection for some of the inhabitants, when the period

of our appointment with our Scotch friend approached, and we left them

to travel on. For my own part I was not sorry. I had now neglected my

promise for some time, and I feared the effects of the dæmon's

disappointment. He might remain in Switzerland, and wreak his vengeance

on my relatives. This idea pursued me, and tormented me at every moment

from which I might otherwise have snatched repose and peace. I waited

for my letters with feverish impatience: if they were delayed, I was

miserable, and overcome by a thousand fears; and when they arrived, and

I saw the superscription of Elizabeth or my father, I hardly dared to

read and ascertain my fate. Sometimes I thought that the fiend followed

me, and might expedite my remissness by murdering my companion. When

these thoughts possessed me, I would not quit Henry for a moment, but

followed him as his shadow, to protect him from the fancied rage of his

destroyer. I felt as if I had committed some great crime, the

consciousness of which haunted me. I was guiltless, but I had indeed

drawn down a horrible curse upon my head, as mortal as that of crime.

I visited Edinburgh with languid eyes and mind; and yet that city might

have interested the most unfortunate being. Clerval did not like it so

well as Oxford: for the antiquity of the latter city was more pleasing

to him. But the beauty and regularity of the new town of Edinburgh, its

romantic castle, and its environs, the most delightful in the world,

Arthur's Seat, St. Bernard's Well, and the Pentland Hills, compensated

him for the change, and filled him with cheerfulness and admiration. But

I was impatient to arrive at the termination of my journey.

We left Edinburgh in a week, passing through Coupar, St. Andrew's, and

along the banks of the Tay, to Perth, where our friend expected us. But

I was in no mood to laugh and talk with strangers, or enter into their

feelings or plans with the good humour expected from a guest; and

accordingly I told Clerval that I wished to make the tour of Scotland

alone. "Do you," said I, "enjoy yourself, and let this be our

rendezvous. I may be absent a month or two; but do not interfere with my

motions, I entreat you: leave me to peace and solitude for a short time;

and when I return, I hope it will be with a lighter heart, more

congenial to your own temper."

Henry wished to dissuade me; but, seeing me bent on this plan, ceased to

remonstrate. He entreated me to write often. "I had rather be with you,"

he said, "in your solitary rambles, than with these Scotch people, whom

I do not know: hasten then, my dear friend, to return, that I may again

feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence."

Having parted from my friend, I determined to visit some remote spot of

Scotland, and finish my work in solitude. I did not doubt but that the

monster followed me, and would discover himself to me when I should have

finished, that he might receive his companion.

With this resolution I traversed the northern highlands, and fixed on

one of the remotest of the Orkneys as the scene of my labours. It was a

place fitted for such a work, being hardly more than a rock, whose high

sides were continually beaten upon by the waves. The soil was barren,

scarcely affording pasture for a few miserable cows, and oatmeal for its

inhabitants, which consisted of five persons, whose gaunt and scraggy

limbs gave tokens of their miserable fare. Vegetables and bread, when

they indulged in such luxuries, and even fresh water, was to be procured

from the main land, which was about five miles distant.

On the whole island there were but three miserable huts, and one of

these was vacant when I arrived. This I hired. It contained but two

rooms, and these exhibited all the squalidness of the most miserable

penury. The thatch had fallen in, the walls were unplastered, and the

door was off its hinges. I ordered it to be repaired, bought some

furniture, and took possession; an incident which would, doubtless, have

occasioned some surprise, had not all the senses of the cottagers been

benumbed by want and squalid poverty. As it was, I lived ungazed at and

unmolested, hardly thanked for the pittance of food and clothes which I

gave; so much does suffering blunt even the coarsest sensations of men.

In this retreat I devoted the morning to labour; but in the evening,

when the weather permitted, I walked on the stony beach of the sea, to

listen to the waves as they roared and dashed at my feet. It was a

monotonous yet ever-changing scene. I thought of Switzerland; it was

far different from this desolate and appalling landscape. Its hills are

covered with vines, and its cottages are scattered thickly in the

plains. Its fair lakes reflect a blue and gentle sky; and, when troubled

by the winds, their tumult is but as the play of a lively infant, when

compared to the roarings of the giant ocean.

In this manner I distributed my occupations when I first arrived; but,

as I proceeded in my labour, it became every day more horrible and

irksome to me. Sometimes I could not prevail on myself to enter my

laboratory for several days; and at other times I toiled day and night

in order to complete my work. It was, indeed, a filthy process in which

I was engaged. During my first experiment, a kind of enthusiastic frenzy

had blinded me to the horror of my employment; my mind was intently

fixed on the consummation of my labour, and my eyes were shut to the

horror of my proceedings. But now I went to it in cold blood, and my

heart often sickened at the work of my hands.

Thus situated, employed in the most detestable occupation, immersed in a

solitude where nothing could for an instant call my attention from the

actual scene in which I was engaged, my spirits became unequal; I grew

restless and nervous. Every moment I feared to meet my persecutor.

Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed on the ground, fearing to raise them,

lest they should encounter the object which I so much dreaded to behold.

I feared to wander from the sight of my fellow-creatures, lest when

alone he should come to claim his companion.

In the mean time I worked on, and my labour was already considerably

advanced. I looked towards its completion with a tremulous and eager

hope, which I dared not trust myself to question, but which was

intermixed with obscure forebodings of evil, that made my heart sicken

in my bosom.

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