by Robert Reed
cradled my senses in one delightful dream .
And is not this in its kind happiness? I appeal to moralists and
sages . I ask if in the calm of their measured reveries, if in the deep
meditations which fill their hours, they feel the extasy of a youthful
tyro in the school of pleasure? Can the calm beams of their heaven-
seeking eyes equal the flashes of mingling passion which blind his,
or does the influence of cold philosophy steep their soul in a joy
equal to his, engaged
In this dear work of youthful revelry .
But in truth, neither the lonely meditations of the hermit, nor the
tumultuous raptures of the reveller, are capable of satisfying man’s
heart . From the one we gather unquiet speculation, from the other
satiety. The mind flags beneath the weight of thought, and droops
in the heartless intercourse of those whose sole aim is amusement .
There is no fruition in their vacant kindness, and sharp rocks lurk
beneath the smiling ripples of these shallow waters .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 851
Thus I felt, when disappointment, weariness, and solitude drove
me back upon my heart, to gather thence the joy of which it had
become barren. My flagging spirits asked for something to speak to
the affections; and not finding it, I drooped. Thus, notwithstanding
the thoughtless delight that waited on its commencement, the im-
pression I have of my life at Vienna is melancholy . Goethe has said,
that in youth we cannot be happy unless we love . I did not love; but I
was devoured by a restless wish to be something to others . I became
the victim of ingratitude and cold coquetry—then I desponded, and
imagined that my discontent gave me a right to hate the world . I
receded to solitude; I had recourse to my books, and my desire again
to enjoy the society of Adrian became a burning thirst .
Emulation, that in its excess almost assumed the venomous
properties of envy, gave a sting to these feelings . At this period the
name and exploits of one of my countrymen filled the world with
admiration . Relations of what he had done, conjectures concerning
his future actions, were the never-failing topics of the hour . I was not
angry on my own account, but I felt as if the praises which this idol
received were leaves torn from laurels destined for Adrian . But I
must enter into some account of this darling of fame—this favourite
of the wonder-loving world .
Lord Raymond was the sole remnant of a noble but impoverished
family . From early youth he had considered his pedigree with com-
placency, and bitterly lamented his want of wealth. His first wish
was aggrandisement; and the means that led towards this end were
secondary considerations . Haughty, yet trembling to every demon-
stration of respect; ambitious, but too proud to shew his ambition;
willing to achieve honour, yet a votary of pleasure,— he entered
upon life . He was met on the threshold by some insult, real or imagi-
nary; some repulse, where he least expected it; some disappoint-
ment, hard for his pride to bear . He writhed beneath an injury he was
unable to revenge; and he quitted England with a vow not to return,
till the good time should arrive, when she might feel the power of
him she now despised .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 852
He became an adventurer in the Greek wars . His reckless courage
and comprehensive genius brought him into notice . He became the
darling hero of this rising people . His foreign birth, and he refused
to throw off his allegiance to his native country, alone prevented him
from filling the first offices in the state. But, though others might
rank higher in title and ceremony, Lord Raymond held a station
above and beyond all this . He led the Greek armies to victory; their
triumphs were all his own . When he appeared, whole towns poured
forth their population to meet him; new songs were adapted to their
national airs, whose themes were his glory, valour, and munificence.
A truce was concluded between the Greeks and Turks . At the same
time, Lord Raymond, by some unlooked-for chance, became the
possessor of an immense fortune in England, whither he returned,
crowned with glory, to receive the meed of honour and distinction
before denied to his pretensions . His proud heart rebelled against
this change . In what was the despised Raymond not the same? If the
acquisition of power in the shape of wealth caused this alteration,
that power should they feel as an iron yoke . Power therefore was
the aim of all his endeavours; aggrandizement the mark at which
he for ever shot . In open ambition or close intrigue, his end was the
same—to attain the first station in his own country.
This account filled me with curiosity. The events that in suc-
cession followed his return to England, gave me keener feelings .
Among his other advantages, Lord Raymond was supremely hand-
some; every one admired him; of women he was the idol . He was
courteous, honey-tongued—an adept in fascinating arts . What could
not this man achieve in the busy English world? Change succeeded
to change; the entire history did not reach me; for Adrian had ceased
to write, and Perdita was a laconic correspondent . The rumour went
that Adrian had become—how write the fatal word—mad: that Lord
Raymond was the favourite of the ex-queen, her daughter’s destined
husband . Nay, more, that this aspiring noble revived the claim of the
house of Windsor to the crown, and that, on the event of Adrian’s in-
curable disorder and his marriage with the sister, the brow of the am-
bitious Raymond might be encircled with the magic ring of regality .
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 853
Such a tale filled the trumpet of many voiced fame; such a tale
rendered my longer stay at Vienna, away from the friend of my
youth, intolerable. Now I must fulfil my vow; now range myself at
his side, and be his ally and support till death . Farewell to courtly
pleasure; to politic intrigue; to the maze of passion and folly! All
hail, England! Native England, receive thy child! thou art the scene
of all my hopes, the mighty theatre on which is acted the only drama
that can, heart and soul, bear me along with it in its development . A
voice most irresistible, a power omnipotent, drew me thither . After
an absence of two years I landed on its shores, not daring to make
any inquiries, fearful of every remark. My first visit would be to my
sister, who inhabited a little cottage, a part of Adrian’s gift, on the
borders of Windsor Forest . From her I should learn the truth con-
cerning our protector; I should hear why she had withdrawn from
the protection of the Princess Evadne, and be instructed as to the
influence which this overtopping and towering Raymond exercised
over the fortunes of my friend .
I had never before been in the neighbourhood of Windsor; the
fertility and beauty of the country around now struck me with admi-
ration, which encreased as I approached the antique wood . The ruins
of majestic oaks which had grown, flourished, and decayed during
the progress of centuries, marked where the limits of the forest
once reached, while the shattered palings and neglected underwood
shewed that this part was deserted for the younger plantations, which
owed their birth to the beginning of the nineteenth century, and now
stood in the pride of maturity . Perdita’s humble dwelling was situ-
ated on the skirts of the most ancient portion; before it was stretched
Bishopgate Heath, which towards the east appeared interminable,
and was bounded to the west by Chapel Wood and the grove of
Virginia Water . Behind, the cottage was shadowed by the venerable
fathers of the forest, under which the deer came to graze, and which
for the most part hollow and decayed, formed fantastic groups that
contrasted with the regular beauty of the younger trees . These, the
offspring of a later period, stood erect and seemed ready to advance
fearlessly into coming time; while those out worn stragglers, blasted
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 854
and broke, clung to each other, their weak boughs sighing as the
wind buffetted them—a weather-beaten crew .
A light railing surrounded the garden of the cottage, which, low-
roofed, seemed to submit to the majesty of nature, and cower amidst
the venerable remains of forgotten time . Flowers, the children of the
spring, adorned her garden and casements; in the midst of lowliness
there was an air of elegance which spoke the graceful taste of the
inmate . With a beating heart I entered the enclosure; as I stood at the
entrance, I heard her voice, melodious as it had ever been, which
before I saw her assured me of her welfare .
A moment more and Perdita appeared; she stood before me in
the fresh bloom of youthful womanhood, different from and yet the
same as the mountain girl I had left . Her eyes could not be deeper
than they were in childhood, nor her countenance more expressive;
but the expression was changed and improved; intelligence sat on
her brow; when she smiled her face was embellished by the softest
sensibility, and her low, modulated voice seemed tuned by love . Her
person was formed in the most feminine proportions; she was not
tall, but her mountain life had given freedom to her motions, so
that her light step scarce made her foot-fall heard as she tript across
the hall to meet me . When we had parted, I had clasped her to my
bosom with unrestrained warmth; we met again, and new feelings
were awakened; when each beheld the other, childhood passed, as
full grown actors on this changeful scene . The pause was but for a
moment; the flood of association and natural feeling which had been
checked, again rushed in full tide upon our hearts, and with tender-
est emotion we were swiftly locked in each other’s embrace .
This burst of passionate feeling over, with calmed thoughts we
sat together, talking of the past and present . I alluded to the cold-
ness of her letters; but the few minutes we had spent together suf-
ficiently explained the origin of this. New feelings had arisen within
her, which she was unable to express in writing to one whom she
had only known in childhood; but we saw each other again, and
our intimacy was renewed as if nothing had intervened to check it .
I detailed the incidents of my sojourn abroad, and then questioned
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 855
her as to the changes that had taken place at home, the causes of
Adrian’s absence, and her secluded life .
The tears that suffused my sister’s eyes when I mentioned our
friend, and her heightened colour seemed to vouch for the truth of
the reports that had reached me . But their import was too terrible for
me to give instant credit to my suspicion . Was there indeed anarchy
in the sublime universe of Adrian’s thoughts, did madness scatter
the well-appointed legions, and was he no longer the lord of his own
soul? Beloved friend, this ill world was no clime for your gentle
spirit; you delivered up its governance to false humanity, which
stript it of its leaves ere winter-time, and laid bare its quivering life
to the evil ministration of roughest winds . Have those gentle eyes,
those “channels of the soul” lost their meaning, or do they only in
their glare disclose the horrible tale of its aberrations? Does that
voice no longer “discourse excellent music?” Horrible, most hor-
rible! I veil my eyes in terror of the change, and gushing tears bear
witness to my sympathy for this unimaginable ruin .
In obedience to my request Perdita detailed the melancholy cir-
cumstances that led to this event .
The frank and unsuspicious mind of Adrian, gifted as it was by
every natural grace, endowed with transcendant powers of intellect,
unblemished by the shadow of defect (unless his dreadless inde-
pendence of thought was to be construed into one), was devoted,
even as a victim to sacrifice, to his love for Evadne. He entrusted
to her keeping the treasures of his soul, his aspirations after excel-
lence, and his plans for the improvement of mankind . As manhood
dawned upon him, his schemes and theories, far from being changed
by personal and prudential motives, acquired new strength from the
powers he felt arise within him; and his love for Evadne became
deep-rooted, as he each day became more certain that the path he
pursued was full of difficulty, and that he must seek his reward, not
in the applause or gratitude of his fellow creatures, hardly in the suc-
cess of his plans, but in the approbation of his own heart, and in her
love and sympathy, which was to lighten every toil and recompence
every sacrifice.
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 856
In solitude, and through many wanderings afar from the haunts
of men, he matured his views for the reform of the English govern-
ment, and the improvement of the people . It would have been well if
he had concealed his sentiments, until he had come into possession
of the power which would secure their practical development . But
he was impatient of the years that must intervene, he was frank of
heart and fearless . He gave not only a brief denial to his mother’s
schemes, but published his intention of using his influence to dimin-
ish the power of the aristocracy, to effect a greater equalization of
wealth and privilege, and to introduce a perfect system of republican
government into England. At first his mother treated his theories as
the wild ravings of inexperience . But they were so systematically
arranged, and his arguments so well supported, that though still in
appearance incredulous, she began to fear him . She tried to reason
with him, and finding him inflexible, learned to hate him.
Strange to say, this feeling was infectious . His enthusiasm for
good which did not exist; his contempt for the sacredness of author-
ity; his ardour and imprudence were all at the antipodes of the usual
routine of life; the worldly feared him; the young and inexperienced
did not understand
the lofty severity of his moral views, and disliked
him as a being different from themselves . Evadne entered but coldly
into his systems . She thought he did well to assert his own will, but
she wished that will to have been more intelligible to the multitude .
She had none of the spirit of a martyr, and did not incline to share
the shame and defeat of a fallen patriot . She was aware of the purity
of his motives, the generosity of his disposition, his true and ardent
attachment to her; and she entertained a great affection for him . He
repaid this spirit of kindness with the fondest gratitude, and made
her the treasure-house of all his hopes .
At this time Lord Raymond returned from Greece . No two per-
sons could be more opposite than Adrian and he . With all the in-
congruities of his character, Raymond was emphatically a man of
the world . His passions were violent; as these often obtained the
mastery over him, he could not always square his conduct to the
obvious line of self-interest, but self-gratification at least was the
THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 857
paramount object with him . He looked on the structure of society as
but a part of the machinery which supported the web on which his
life was traced . The earth was spread out as an highway for him; the
heavens built up as a canopy for him .
Adrian felt that he made a part of a great whole. He owned affin-
ity not only with mankind, but all nature was akin to him; the moun-
tains and sky were his friends; the winds of heaven and the offspring
of earth his playmates; while he the focus only of this mighty mir-
ror, felt his life mingle with the universe of existence . His soul was
sympathy, and dedicated to the worship of beauty and excellence .
Adrian and Raymond now came into contact, and a spirit of aver-
sion rose between them . Adrian despised the narrow views of the
politician, and Raymond held in supreme contempt the benevolent
visions of the philanthropist .
With the coming of Raymond was formed the storm that laid
waste at one fell blow the gardens of delight and sheltered paths
which Adrian fancied that he had secured to himself, as a refuge
from defeat and contumely . Raymond, the deliverer of Greece, the
graceful soldier, who bore in his mien a tinge of all that, peculiar to
her native clime, Evadne cherished as most dear— Raymond was