From
this
day
natural
philosophy,
and
particularly chemistry,
in
the
most
comprehensive
sense
of
the
term, became nearly my
sole
occupation. I read
with
ardour
those
works,
so
full
of
genius
and
discrimination,
which
modern
inquirers
have
written
on
these
subjects. I
attended
the
lectures
and
cultivated
the
acquaintance
of
the
men
of
science
of
the
university,
and
I found
even
in
M. Krempe a
great
deal
of
sound
sense
and
real
information, combined,
it
is
true,
with
a
repulsive
physiognomy
and
manners,
but
not
on
that
account
the
less
valuable.
In
M. Waldman I found a true friend.
His
gentleness
was
never
tinged
by
dogmatism,
and
his
instructions
were
given
with
an
air
of
frankness
and
good
nature
that
banished
every
idea
of
pedantry.
In
a
thousand
ways
he
smoothed
for
me
the
path
of
knowledge
and
made
the
most
abstruse
inquiries
clear
and
facile
to
my apprehension. My
application
was
at
first
fluctuating
and
uncertain;
it
gained
strength
as
I
proceeded
and
soon
became
so
ardent
and
eager
that
the
stars
often
disappeared
in
the
light
of
morning
whilst I
was
yet
engaged
in
my laboratory.
As
I applied
so
closely,
it
may
be
easily
conceived
that
my
progress
was
rapid. My
ardour
was
indeed
the
astonishment
of
the
students,
and
my
proficiency
that
of
the
masters.
Professor
Krempe
often
asked
me,
with
a
sly
smile,
how
Cornelius Agrippa went on, whilst M. Waldman expressed
the
most
heartfelt
exultation
in
my progress.
Two
years
passed
in
this
manner,
during
which
I paid
no
visit
to
Geneva,
but
was
engaged,
heart
and
soul,
in
the
pursuit
of
some
discoveries
which
I
hoped
to
make.
None
but
those
who
have
experienced
them
can
conceive
of
the
enticements
of
science.
In
other
studies
you
go
as
far
as
others
have
gone
before
you,
and
there
is
nothing
more
to
know;
but
in
a
scientific
pursuit
there
is
continual
food
for
discovery
and
wonder. A
mind
of
moderate
capacity
which
closely
pursues
one
study
must
infallibly
arrive
at
great
proficiency
in
that
study;
and
I,
who
continually
sought
the
attainment
of
one
object
of
pursuit
and
was
solely wrapped
up
in
this,
improved
so
rapidly
that
at
the
end
of
two
years
I
made
some
discoveries
in
the
improvement
of
some
chemical instruments,
which
procured
me
great
esteem
and
admiration
at
the
university.
When
I had
arrived
at
this
point
and
had
become
as
well
acquainted
with
the
theory
and
practice
of
natural
philosophy
as
depended
on
the
lessons
of
any
of
the
professors
at
Ingolstadt, my
residence
there
being
no
longer
conducive
to
my improvements, I
thought
of
returning
to
my
friends
and
my
native
town,
when
an
incident
happened
that
protracted
my stay.
One
of
the
phenomena
which
had
peculiarly
attracted
my
attention
was
the
structure
of
the
human
frame, and, indeed,
any
animal
endued
with
life. Whence, I
often
asked
myself,
did
the
principle
of
life
proceed?
It
was
a
bold
question,
and
one
which
has
ever
been
considered
as
a mystery;
yet
with
how
many
things
are
we
upon
the
brink
of
becoming acquainted,
if
cowardice
or
carelessness
did
not
restrain
our
inquiries. I
revolved
these
circumstances
in
my
mind
and
determined thenceforth
to
apply
myself
more
particularly
to
those
branches
of
natural
philosophy
which
relate
to
physiology. Unless I had been animated
by
an
almost
supernatural enthusiasm, my
application
to
this
study
would
have
been irksome
and
almost
intolerable.
To
examine
the
causes
of
life,
we
must
first
have
recourse
to
death. I became acquainted
with
the
science
of
anatomy,
but
this
was
not
sufficient; I
must
also
observe
the
natural
decay
and
corruption
of
the
human
body.
In
my
education
my father had taken
the
greatest
precautions
that
my
mind
should
be
impressed
with
no
supernatural horrors. I
do
not
ever
remember
to
have
trembled
at
a
tale
of
superstition
or
to
have
feared
the
apparition
of
a spirit.
Darkness
had
no
effect
upon
my fancy,
and
a churchyard
was
to
me
merely
the
receptacle
of
bodies
deprived
of
life, which,
from
being
the
seat
of
beauty
and
strength, had
become
food
for
the
worm.
Now
I
was
led
to
examine
the
cause
and
progress
of
this
decay
and
forced
to
spend
days
and
nights
in
vaults
and
charnel-houses. My
attention
was
fixed
upon
every
object
the
most
insupportable
to
the
delicacy
of
the
human
feelings. I
saw
how
the
fine
form
of
man
was
degraded
and
wasted; I beheld
the
corruption
of
death
succeed
to
the
blooming
cheek
of
life; I
saw
how
the
worm
inherited
the
wonders
of
the
eye
and
brain. I paused,
examining
and
analysing
all
the
minutiae
of
causation,
as
exemplified
in
the
change
from
life
to
death,
and
death
to
life,
until
from
the
midst
of
this
darkness
a
sudden
light
broke
in
upon
me—a
light
so
brilliant
and
wondrous,
yet
so
simple,
that
while
I became
dizzy
with
the
immensity
of
the
prospect
which
it
illustrated, I
was
surprised
that
among
so
many
men
of
genius
who
had
directed
their
inquiries
towards
the
same
science,
that
I
alone
should
be
reserved
to
discover
so
astonishing
a secret. Remember, I
am
not
recording
the
vision
of
a madman.
The
sun
does
not
more
certainly
shine
in
the
heavens
than
that
which
I
now
affirm
is
true.
Some
miracle
might
have
produced it,
yet
the
stages
of
the
discovery
were
distinct
and
probable.
After
days
and
nights
of
incredible
labour
and
fatigue, I
succeeded
in
discovering
the
cause
of
generation
and
life; nay, more, I became
myself
capable
of
bestowing
animation
upon
lifeless
matter.
The
astonishment
which
I had
at
first
experienced
on
this
discovery
soon
gave
place
to
delight
and
rapture.
After
so
much
time spent
in
painful labour,
to
arrive
at
once
at
the
summit
of
my
desires
was
the
most
gratifying
consummation
of
my toils.
But
this
discovery
was
so
great
and
overwhelming
that
all
the
steps
by
which
I had been
progressively
led
to
it
were
obliterated,
and
I beheld
only
the
result.
What
had been
the
study
and
desire
of
the
wisest
men
since
the
creation
of
the
world
was
now
within
my grasp.
Not
that,
like
a
magic
scene,
it
all
opened
upon
me
at
once:
the
information
I had
obtained
was
of
a
nature
rather
to
direct
my
endeavours
so
soon
as
I
should
point
them
towards
the
object
of
my
search
than
to
exhibit
that
object
already
accomplished. I
was
like
the
Arabian
who
had been buried
with
the
dead
and
found a
passage
to
life,
aided
only
by
one
glimmering
and
seemingly ineffectual light. I
see
by
your
eagerness
and
the
wonder
and
hope
which
your
eyes
express, my friend,
that
you
expect
to
be
informed
of
the
secret
with
which
I
am
acquainted;
that
cannot be;
listen
patiently
until
the
end
of
my story,
and
you
will
easily
perceive
why
I
am
reserved
upon
that
subject. I
will
not
lead
you
on, unguarded
and
ardent
as
I
then
was,
to
your
destruction
and
infallible
misery.
Learn
from
me,
if
not
by
my precepts,
at
least
by
my example,
how
dangerous
is
the
acquirement
of
knowledge
and
how
much
happier
that
man
is
who
believes
his
native
town
to
be
the
world,
than
he
who
aspires
to
become
greater
than
his
nature
will
allow.
When
I found
so
astonishing
a power
placed
within
my hands, I
hesitated
a
long
time concerning
the
manner
in
which
I
should
employ
it. Although I possessed
the
capacity
of
bestowing animation,
yet
to
prepare
a
frame
for
the
reception
of
it,
with
all
its
intricacies
of
fibres, muscles,
and
veins,
still
remained
a
work
of
inconceivable
difficulty
and
labour. I
doubted
at
first
whether
I
should
attempt
the
creation
of
a being
like
myself,
or
one
of
simpler
organization;
but
my
imagination
was
too
much
exalted
by
my
first
success
to
permit
me
to
doubt
of
my
ability
to
give
life
to
an
animal
as
complex
and
wonderful
as
man.
The
materials
at
present
within
my
command
hardly
appeared
adequate
to
so
arduous
an
undertaking,
but
I
doubted
not
that
I
should
ultimately
succeed. I
prepared
myself
for
a
multitude
of
reverses; my
operations
might
be
incessantly
baffled,
and
at
last
my
work
be
imperfect,
yet
when
I
considered
the
improvement
which
every
day
takes
place
in
science
and
mechanics, I
was
encouraged
to
hope
my
present
attempts
would
at
least
lay
the
foundations
of
future
success.
Nor
could
I
consider
the
magnitude
and
complexity
of
my
plan
as
any
argument
of
its
impracticability.
It
was
with
these
feelings
that
I began
the
creation
of
a
human
being.
As
the
minuteness
of
the
parts
formed
a
great
hindrance
to
my speed, I resolved,
contrary
to
my
first
intention,
to
make
the
being
of
a
gigantic
stature,
that
is
to
say,
about
eight
feet
in
height,
and
proportionably large.
After
having
formed
this
determination
and
having
spent
some
months
in
successfully
collecting
and
arranging
my materials, I began.
No
one
can
conceive
the
variety
of
feelings
which
bore
me
onwards,
like
a hurricane,
in
the
first
enthusiasm
of
success.
Life
and
death
appeared
to
me
ideal bounds,
which
I
should
first
break
through,
and
pour
a
torrent
of
light
into
our
dark world. A
new
species
would
bless
me
as
its
creator
and
source;
many
happy
and
excellent
natures
would
owe
their
being
to
me.
No
father
could
claim
the
gratitude
of
his
child
so
completely
as
I
should
deserve
theirs.
Pursuing
these
reflections, I
thought
that
if
I
could
bestow
animation
upon
lifeless
matter, I
might
in
process
of
time (although I
now
found
it
impossible)
renew
life
where
death
had apparently devoted
the
body
to
corruption.
These
thoughts
supported my spirits,
while
I
pursued
my
undertaking
with
unremitting ardour. My
cheek
had grown
pale
with
study,
and
my
person
had
become
emaciated
with
confinement. Sometimes,
on
the
very
brink
of
certainty, I failed;
yet
still
I
clung
to
the
hope
which
the
next
day
or
the
next
hour
might
realize.
One
secret
which
I
alone
possessed
was
the
hope
to
which
I had
dedicated
myself;
and
the
moon gazed
on
my
midnight
labours, while,
with
unrelaxed
and
breathless eagerness, I
pursued
nature
to
her
hiding-places.
Who
shall
conceive
the
horrors
of
my
secret
toil
as
I dabbled
among
the
unhallowed
damps
of
the
grave
or
tortured
the
living
animal
to
animate
the
lifeless
clay? My
limbs
now
tremble,
and
my
eyes
swim
with
the
remembrance;
but
then
a resistless
and
almost
frantic
impulse
urged
me
forward; I
seemed
to
have
lost
all
soul
or
sensation
but
for
this
one
pursuit.
It
was
indeed
but
a passing trance,
that
only
made
me
feel
with
renewed
acuteness
so
soon
as,
the
unnatural
stimulus
ceasing
to
operate, I had
returned
to
my
old
habits. I
collected
bones
from
charnel-houses
and
disturbed,
with
profane
fingers,
the
tremendous
secrets
of
the
human
frame.
In
a
solitary
chamber,
or
rather
cell,
at
the
top
of
the
house,
and
separated
from
all
the
other
apartments
by
a
gallery
and
staircase, I kept my workshop
of
filthy creation; my
eyeballs
were
starting
from
their
sockets
in
attending
to
the
details
of
my employment.
The
dissecting
room
and
the
slaughter-house furnished
many
of
my materials;
and
often
did
my
human
nature
turn
with
loathing
from
my occupation, whilst,
still
urged
on
by
an
eagerness
which
perpetually
increased, I brought my
work
near
to
a conclusion.
The
summer
months
passed
while
I
was
thus
engaged,
heart
and
soul,
in
one
pursuit.
It
was
a
most
beautiful season;
never
did
the
fields
bestow a
more
plentiful
harvest
or
the
vines
yield
a
more
luxuriant
vintage,
but
my
eyes
were
insensible
to
the
charms
of
nature.
And
the
same
feelings
which
made
me
neglect
the
scenes
around
me
caused
me
also
to
forget
those
friends
who
were
so
many
miles
absent,
and
whom
I had
not
seen
for
so
long
a time. I
knew
my silence disquieted them,
and
I
well
remembered
the
words
of
my father: "I
know
that
while
you
are
pleased
with
yourself
you
will
think
of
us
with
affection,
and
we
shall
hear
regularly
from
you.
You
must
pardon
me
if
I
regard
any
interruption
in
your
correspondence
as
a
proof
that
your
other
duties
are
equally neglected." I
knew
well
therefore
what
would
be
my father's feelings,
but
I
could
not
tear
my
thoughts
from
my employment, loathsome
in
itself,
but
which
had taken
an
irresistible
hold
of
my imagination. I wished,
as
it
were,
to
procrastinate
all
that
related
to
my feelings
of
affection
until
the
great
object,
which
swallowed
up
every
habit
of
my nature,
should
be
completed. I
then
thought
that
my father
would
be
unjust
if
he
ascribed
my
neglect
to
vice
or
faultiness
on
my part,
but
I
am
now
convinced
that
he
was
justified
in
conceiving
that
I
should
not
be
altogether
free
from
blame. A
human
being
in
perfection
ought
always
to
preserve a
calm
and
peaceful
mind
and
never
to
allow
passion
or
a
transitory
desire
to
disturb
his
tranquillity. I
do
not
think
that
the
pursuit
of
knowledge
is
an
exception
to
this
rule.
If
the
study
to
which
you
apply
yourself has a
tendency
to
weaken
your
affections
and
to
destroy
your
taste
for
those
simple
pleasures
in
which
no
alloy
can
possibly mix,
then
that
study
is
certainly unlawful,
that
is
to
say,
not
befitting
the
human
mind.
If
this
rule
were
always
observed;
if
no
man
allowed
any
pursuit
whatsoever
to
interfere
with
the
tranquillity
of
his
domestic
affections,
Greece
had
not
been enslaved, Caesar
would
have
spared
his
country,
America
would
have
been
discovered
more
gradually,
and
the
empires
of
Mexico
and
Peru
had
not
been destroyed.
But
I
forget
that
I
am
moralizing
in
the
most
interesting
part
of
my tale,
and
your
looks
remind
me
to
proceed. My father
made
no
reproach
in
his
letters
and
only
took
notice
of
my silence
by
inquiring
into
my
occupations
more
particularly
than
before. Winter, spring,
and
summer
passed
away
during
my labours;
but
I
did
not
watch
the
blossom
or
the
expanding
leaves—sights
which
before
always
yielded
me
supreme
delight—so
deeply
was
I engrossed
in
my occupation.
The
leaves
of
that
year
had
withered
before
my
work
drew
near
to
a close,
and
now
every
day
showed
me
more
plainly
how
well
I had succeeded.
But
my
enthusiasm
was
checked
by
my anxiety,
and
I
appeared
rather
like
one
doomed
by
slavery
to
toil
in
the
mines,
or
any
other
unwholesome
trade
than
an
artist
occupied
by
his
favourite employment.
Every
night
I
was
oppressed
by
a
slow
fever,
and
I became
nervous
to
a
most
painful degree;
the
fall
of
a leaf startled me,
and
I
shunned
my
fellow
creatures
as
if
I had been
guilty
of
a crime. Sometimes I
grew
alarmed
at
the
wreck I
perceived
that
I had become;
the
energy
of
my
purpose
alone
sustained
me: my
labours
would
soon
end,
and
I
believed
that
exercise
and
amusement
would
then
drive
away
incipient
disease;
and
I
promised
myself
both
of
these
when
my
creation
should
be
complete.