What we now loosely call science—meaning the physical sciences—was until the mid-nineteenth
century referred to under the rubric of "natural philosophy." The long-lived journal
of the Royal Society, begun under Charles II in 1660 and still the principal avenue
for publishing scientific discoveries in English during Mary Shelley's day, was called
Philosophical Transactions. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein in the heyday of British
chemistry, and it is this branch of natural philosophy that is most implicated in
Victor's education and obsessiveness.

As in I:1:15 (and note), natural philosophy here signifies the natural sciences.

This significant emendation enlarges the connotations of the "ardour" expressed not
just by Victor at the beginning of Chapter II (I:2:1) of the 1831 edition, but by
Walton and the Creature as well. Victor here exonerates himself of any evil consequences
from this trait before we have sufficient information to corroborate his view or,
alternatively, to question how well his potentiality for violence has been displaced
into other pursuits. As he speaks, after all, he is still on a mission whose sole
purpose is the destruction of the Creature whom he brought to life and who has known
from him only rejection or rage. Walton, at this point, has solely Victor's word for
his guiltlessness.

Victor credits his account with being logically consistent, but in twice terming it
a "tale" he raises the question of the truth value of any narrative. This joins with
the disparity detected in the previous paragraph between Walton's understanding of
Victor's virtues and Victor's own concentration on what we might think of as his vices
to reinforce how deeply perspective can infuse the "tale." This will become a major
subtext of this novel, touching all its main events.

The directness of this statement, which though cast in Victor Frankenstein's voice
was certainly written in Mary Shelley's hand, must carry at least a measure of personal
weight for an author whose mother died from complications of childbirth.

The word "imagination" is similarly exalted by Percy Bysshe Shelley in the first paragraph
of the Preface (I:Pref:1) he wrote for the first edition and, even moreso, by Mary
Shelley in her Introduction (see 1831:I:Intro:3 and 1831:I:Intro:11) to the third
edition. Yet, clearly the "doubt" that in these sentences is twice juxtaposed against
this power is meant to deflate its pretensions to be an absolute good. As the novel
proceeds, its questioning of the imagination will intensify.

That Victor is capable of responding to Walton's open desire for his friendship by
reciprocating it implicitly suggests that there is a measure of free will still possible
in the universe, even in that small portion of it that constitutes his own ruined
existence. His recognition of the value of Walton's sympathy also underscores the
significance this emotion will assume throughout the novel

Victor's language, after so many months of silence, is transparently insincere. Since
Clerval does not seem to notice, perhaps Victor does not either. Victor, however,
has himself already expressed the terms of his own indictment for such neglect of
his loved ones: see I:3:10.

Alphonse Frankenstein in the last sentence of the previous chapter admonished the
members of his household to rely on the court's impartiality (see I:6:44). Now that
the court has decided against Justine, he acquiesces in its pronouncement of her guilt
and sees the family suffering as brought to its term. It is hard not to see such a
compartmentalizing of human behavior as having some effect on Victor's habitual distancing
of himself from his emotional obligations and his duties to his Creature.

Here Victor has not only demonized his Creature but has cast him in an adversarial
role, not acknowledging at this point that hatred can be as powerful a passion as
love and that antagonism can define a relationship with as enduring bonds as those
produced through affection. That this most distant of objectified namings coincides
with an almost hysterical sense of relief, indeed of liberation, for Victor suggests
the subtlety of Mary Shelley's psychological understanding. This is a moment of major
moral significance for the development of the novel.