Frankenstein

house I chanced to find a volume of the works of Cornelius Agrippa. I
opened it with apathy; the theory which he attempts to demonstrate, and
the wonderful facts which he relates, soon changed this feeling into
enthusiasm. A new light seemed to dawn upon my mind; and, bounding with
joy, I communicated my discovery to my father. My father looked
carelessly at the titlepage of my book, and said, "Ah! Cornelius
Agrippa! My dear Victor, do not waste your time upon this; it is sad
trash."

If, instead of this remark, my father had taken the pains to explain to
me, that the principles of Agrippa had been entirely exploded, and that
a modern system of science had been introduced, which possessed much
greater powers than the ancient, because the powers of the latter were
chimerical, while those of the former were real and practical; under
such circumstances, I should certainly have thrown Agrippa aside, and
have contented my imagination, warmed as it was, by returning with
greater ardour to my former studies. It is even possible, that the train
of my ideas would never have received the fatal impulse that led to my
ruin. But the cursory glance my father had taken of my volume by no