By "view of nature" Victor Frankenstein in no way signifies what a modern person would
in using the term "natural view." But just exactly what he does mean is debatable.
Johnson's 1755 Dictionary gives eleven definitions of the word, none of which conforms
to our idea of nature as merely an external, visual phenomenon.

• An imaginary being supposed to preside over the material and animal world
• The native state of properties of any thing, by which it is discriminated from others
• The constitution of an animated body
• Disposition of mind; temper
• The regular course of things
• The compass of natural existence
• Natural affection, or reverence; native sensations
• The state or operation of the material world
• Sort; species
• Sentiments or images adapted to nature, or conformable to truth and reality
• Physics; the science which teaches the qualities of things

Given this spectrum of meanings, we might suppose that the first application, from
Victor Frankenstein's perspective, would be to the last connotation. He is, after
all, a scientist speaking to another engaged in research and suggesting to him that
the known boundaries of the discipline are inadequate to the realities he has uncovered.
And yet the fact that these earlier definitions of nature touch so pointedly on what
we might ordinarily think of as extraneous categories—moral or theological—should
prepare us for such an elaboration in Victor's narrative as well. The second and third
definitions, for instance, pertain as much to what Victor as creator imparted to his
Creature's mind as to his body, and the fourth might raise the question of his essential
morality. The seventh might revert to Victor's own psychological shortcomings, or,
depending on one's perspective, those of his Creature. That "power" is associated
in Victor's mind with his idea of nature allows us, as well, to cross the one spectrum
of meanings with another distinctive to that term itself. Again, Victor might think
of it in a strictly scientific sense, as a producer of essential energy, an aspect
of the electricity that is understood as a dynamic force by both him and Walton. And
yet, as we will eventually learn, his existence has in its recent history turned almost
wholly on an axis of personal power politics as he has struggled with his Creature
for dominance.

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