University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.
In which the Author stumbles upon an old acquaintance.

The doctor being accustomed to lead or drive
me whithersoever he would, and I, half the time,
following without question, I found myself led one
day to a house in the town, where was a remarkable
exhibition, or show, as our people called it,
which had for two days kept the whole village in
an uproar. So great, however, was the abstraction
and indifference of my mind to all objects, ordinary
and extraordinary alike, that I had paid not
the least attention to the accounts of the matter
which my sister and other persons, and especially
the faithful Epaminondas, had, during these two
days, poured into my ears. Hence, when I entered
the exhibition-room I was ignorant of its nature,
and, indeed, indifferent as to making myself better
acquainted with it.

Tibbikens, however, appeared to be unusually
delighted, and saying, “Now, Megrim, my lad,
you shall see a wonderful proof of the strides that
science is making,” led me through a crowd of the
villagers, old and young, and male and female,
who were present, up to a large table, where, truly
enough, in glass cases placed upon the same, was
a spectacle quite remarkable; though I must confess

it did not make so strong an impression upon
me as Tibbikens expected.

It consisted of an infinite variety of fragments
from the bodies of animals and human beings, imitations,
as I supposed at first, in wax, or some
other suitable substance, and done to the life;
but Tibbikens assured me they were real specimens,
taken from animal bodies, and converted by
scientific processes, known only to the exhibiter,
into the substances we now saw; some being stony
and harder than flint, some again only a little indurated,
while others retained their natural softness,
elasticity, and other peculiarities of texture. There
were a dozen or more human feet, as many hands,
three heads (one of which was a woman's with
long hair, and another a child's), a calf's head, a
dog's leg, the ear of a pig, the nose of a horse, an
ox's liver and heart, a rat, a snake, and a catfish,
and dozens of other things that I cannot now remember,
all of which were surprisingly natural to
behold, especially the head of the woman with the
long hair, which looked as if it had just been cut
off—or rather not cut off at all, for there was no
appearance of death about it whatever, the lips
and cheeks being quite ruddy, and the eyes open
and bright, though fixed.

“So much for science!” said Tibbikens. “Look
at that boy's head! it don't look so well as the others;
but who would believe it was solid stone?
Sir, it is stone, and silicious stone too; for last
night I did myself knock fire out of its nose with

the back of my knife; and that's the cause of the
nick there on the nostril. Well now, there's the
man's head; its texture is ligneous, or, to speak
more strictly, imperfectly carbonaceous, though the
doctor calls it calcareous. But the wonder of all
is the woman's head; look at that! That, sir, is
neither silicious nor carbonaceous, but fleshy—I
say, sir, fleshy. It remains in its natural condition;
the skin is soft and resilient; you see the naturalness
of the colour, of the lips, and, above all, of
the eyes. And yet, sir, that head, that flesh is indestructible,
unless, indeed, by fire, and strong acids
or alkalis. It is embalmed, sir! embalmed according
to the new process of this doctor with the
unpronounceable Dutch name; and I can tell you,
sir, that the man is a chymist such as was never
heard of before. Davy, Lavoisier, Berzelius—sir,
I presume to say they are fools to him, and will be
as soon forgotten as their stupid, uncivilized system.
How little they knew of the true science of
chymistry! They stopped short at the elements—
our doctor here converts one element into another!”

Tibbikens spoke with an air of consequence and
some little oratorical emphasis, for he was surrounded
by spectators, who listened to what he said
with reverence. As for me, the little interest excited
in my bosom by the novelty of the exhibition
had begun to wear away, and I was sinking again
into apathy—the faster, perhaps, for the doctor's
conversation, of which I had a sufficiency every
day—and I suppose I should, in a few moments,

have lost all consciousness of what was going on
around me, when suddenly a buzz began, and a
murmuring of voices, saying, “Here comes the
doctor! now we shall have the grand show!” At
the same moment a grinding organ began its lugubrious
grunting and squeaking, and the master of
the exhibition, stalking up to the table, and making
his patrons a sweeping semicircular bow, cried, in
a rumbling bass voice, and in accents strongly foreigh,—

“Zhentlemens and leddees—I peg you will excuse
me for keep you waiting. Vat you see here,
zhentlemens and leddees, is very strange—pieces
of de poddies human and animal, shanged py a
process of philosophie very astonish, misty, and
unknown to de multitude; some hard shtone, some
shtone not so hard, and some not shtone at all. But
I shall show you de representation vich is de triumph
of art, de vonder of science, de excellence
of philosophie! For, zhentlemens and leddees, I
am no mountepank and showmans, put a man of de
science, a friend of de species human, and a zhentleman
of de medical profession; and vat I make
dese tings for is not for show, nor for pastime, nor
for de money, but for de utilitie of de vorld.”

“Surely,” thought I to myself, “I have heard
that voice before!”

I looked into the man's face as soon as the spectators
had cleared away a little—for I was too indifferent
to put myself to any trouble—and I said

to myself—nay, I said aloud to Tibbikens, “Surely
I have seen that man before!”

“Where?” said Tibbikens.

“In Jersey,” I replied, hastily; for I could not
forget the tall frame, the hollow jaws, the solemn
eyes, and the ever-grinning mouth of Feuerteufel,
the German doctor, who had made himself so famous
in my native village, and who was one of the
last persons I remembered to have seen upon that
day when I bade farewell to my original body.

“Come,” said Tibbikens, looking alarmed at my
last words, “you don't pretend to say you were ever
out of Virginia in your whole life!”

“Augh—oh!” said I, recollecting myself; “I
wonder what I was talking about? What—augh
—what is the man's name?”

“Feuerteufel,” said Tibbikens.