TEXTS : 1818 EDITION : VOL. I
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THE event on which this
fiction is founded has been supposed, by Dr.
Darwin, and some of the
physiological writers of Germany, as not of
impossible occurrence. I shall not be supposed as
according the remotest degree of serious faith to
such an imagination; yet, in assuming it as the basis
of a work of fancy, I have not considered myself as
merely
weaving a series of supernatural terrors. The
event on which the interest of the story depends is
exempt from the disadvantages of a mere tale of
spectres or enchantment. It was recommended by the
novelty of the situations which it developes; and,
however impossible as a physical fact, affords
a
point of view to the imagination for the
delineating of human passions more comprehensive and
commanding than any which the ordinary relations of
existing events can yield.
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I have thus endeavoured
to preserve the truth of the elementary principles of
human nature, while I
have not scrupled to innovate upon their
combinations. The Iliad, the tragic poetry of
Greece, Shakespeare, in the Tempest and
Midsummer Night's Dream and most especially
Milton, in Paradise Lost, conform to this
rule; and the most humble novelist, who seeks to
confer or receive amusement from his
labours, may, without presumption, apply to prose
fiction a licence, or rather a rule, from the
adoption of which so many exquisite combinations of
human feeling have resulted in the highest specimens
of poetry.
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The circumstance on
which my story rests was suggested in casual
conversation. It was commenced partly as a source of
amusement, and partly as an expedient for exercising
any untried resources of mind. Other motives were
mingled with these as the work proceeded. I am by no
means indifferent to the manner in which whatever
moral tendencies exist in the sentiments or
characters it contains shall affect the reader; yet
my chief concern in this respect has been limited to
the avoiding the enervating effects of the novels of
the present day, and to the exhibition of the
amiableness of domestic affection, and the
excellence of universal virtue. The opinions which
naturally spring from the character and situation of
the hero are by no means to be conceived as existing
always in my own conviction; nor is any inference
justly to be drawn from the following pages as
prejudicing any philosophical doctrine of whatever
kind.
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It is a subject also of
additional interest to the author that this story was
begun in the majestic region where the scene is
principally laid, and in society which cannot cease
to be regretted. I passed the summer of 1816 in the
environs of Geneva.
The season was cold and rainy, and in the evenings we
crowded around a blazing wood fire, and occasionally
amused ourselves with some German
stories of ghosts, which happened to fall into
our hands. These tales excited in us a playful desire
of imitation. Two
other friends (a tale from the pen of one of whom
would be far more acceptable to the public than any
thing I can ever hope to produce) and myself agreed
to write each a story founded on some supernatural
occurrence.
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The weather, however,
suddenly became serene; and my two friends left me on
a journey among the Alps, and lost, in the
magnificent scenes which they present, all memory of
their ghostly visions. The following tale is the only
one which has been completed.
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