the structure of the human frame, and, indeed, any animal endued with
life. Whence, I often asked myself, did the principle of life
proceed? It was a bold question, and one which has ever been
considered as a mystery; yet with how many things are we upon the brink
of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain
our inquiries. I revolved these circumstances in my mind and
determined thenceforth to apply myself more particularly to those
branches of natural philosophy which relate to physiology. Unless I
had been animated by an almost supernatural enthusiasm, my application
to this study would have been irksome and almost intolerable. To
examine the causes of life, we must first have recourse to death. I
became acquainted with the science of anatomy, but this was not
sufficient; I must also observe the natural decay and corruption of the
human body. In my education my father had taken the greatest
precautions that my mind should be impressed with no supernatural
horrors. I do not ever remember to have trembled at a tale of
superstition or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness
had no effect upon my fancy, and a churchyard was to me merely the
receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of
beauty and strength, had become food for the worm. Now I was led to
examine the cause and progress of this decay and forced to spend days
and nights in vaults and charnel-houses. My attention was fixed upon
every object the most insupportable to the delicacy of the human
feelings. I saw how the fine form of man was degraded and wasted; I
beheld the corruption of death succeed to the blooming cheek of life; I
saw how the worm inherited the wonders of the eye and brain. I paused,
examining and analysing all the minutiae of causation, as exemplified
in the change from life to death, and death to life, until from the
midst of this darkness a sudden light broke in upon me--a light so
brilliant and wondrous, yet so simple, that while I became dizzy with