Emulous not to be outdone, our own party now set up a horrid alarm of "Fire!" accompanied with screams and yells that might have roused the dead, and ran to the mansion door, as if to demand assistance of their master.
Never shall I forget the scene that ensued. I stood rooted to the ground, not twenty steps from the house, when the door was thrown open, and my master rushed out, followed by Andrews and the overseer. They had scarce put foot on the porch before six or seven guns, being all that the conspirators could muster, and which the owners held in readiness, were discharged at them, and then they were set upon by others with the spears. The light of the fire illuminated the porch, so that objects were plainly distinguishable; yet so violent was the rush of assailants, so wild the tumult, so brief the contest, that I can scarce say I really witnessed the particulars of the tragedy. I beheld, indeed, my master's gray hairs, for he was of towering stature, floating an instant over the heads of the assailants; but the next moment they had vanished; and I saw but a single white man struggling in the hall against a mass of foes, and crying out to Miss Isabella by name, "to escape with the children." Vain counsel, vain sacrifice of safety to humanity; the faithful overseer (for it was he who made this heroic effort to save his master's children, his master and young Andrews lying dead or mortally wounded on the porch) was cut down on the spot, and the shrieks of the children as they fled, some into the open air by a back door, and others to the upper chambers, and the savage yells of triumph with which they were pursued, told how vainly he had devoted himself to save them.
While I stood thus observing the horrors I had been instrumental in provoking, as incapable of putting a stop to as of assisting in them, I saw two of the children, little Tommy and his youngest sister, Lucy, a girl of seven or eight years, running wildly over the lawn, several of my ruffian companions pursuing them. The girl was snatched up by old aunt Phoebe, who, with other women, had come among us, wringing her hands, and beseeching us not to kill their young misses, and was thus saved. As for the boy, he caught sight of me, and sprang into my arms, entreating me "not to let them kill him, and he would never hurt me again in all his life, and would give me all his money."
Poor child! I would have defended him at that moment with my life, for my heart bled for what had already been done; but he was snatched out of my hands, and I saw no more of him. I heard afterward, however, that he was not hurt, having been saved by the women, who had protected in like manner his two little sisters, Jane and Lucy. As for the others, that is, Isabella and Edith, I witnessed their fate with my own eyes; and it was the suddenness and horror of it that, by unmanning me entirely, prevented my giving aid to the boy when he was torn from my arms.
The fire had by this time spread from the timber to an adjacent cabin, and a light equal to that of noon, though red as blood itself, was shed over the whole mansion, on the roof of which was a little cupola, or observatory, open to the weather, where was room for five or six persons to sit together, and enjoy the prospect of the river and surrounding hills; and on either side of this cupola was a platform, though without a balustrade, on which was space for as many more.
The observatory being strongly illuminated by the flames, and my eyes being turned thitherward by a furious yell which was suddenly set up around me, I beheld my master's daughter Isabella rush into it,—that is, into the observatory,—from the staircase below, hotly pursued, as was evident from what followed. She bore in her arms, or rather dragged after her, for the child was in a swoon, her sister Edith, who was but small of stature and light; and as she reached this forlorn place of refuge, she threw down the trapdoor that covered its entrance, and endeavoured to keep it down with her foot. There was something inexpressibly fearful in her appearance, independent of the dreadfulness of her situation, separated only by a narrow plank from ruffians maddened by rage and carnage, from whom death itself was a boon too merciful to be expected, and from whom she was to guard not only herself, but the feeble, unconscious being hanging on her neck. Her hair was all dishevelled, her dress torn and disordered, and her face as white as snow; yet there was a wild energy and fierceness breathing from every feature, and she looked like a lioness defending to the last her young from the hunters, from whom she yet knows there is no escape.
The trapdoor shook under her foot, and was at last thrown violently up; and up, with screams of triumph, darted the infuriated Governor, followed by Jim and others, to grasp their prey. Their prey had fled: without uttering a word or scream, she sprang from the cupola to the platform at its side, and then, with a fearlessness only derived from desperation, and still bearing her insensible sister, she stepped upon the roof, which was high and steep, and ran along it to its extremity.
Even the ferocious Governor was for a moment daunted at the boldness of the act, and afraid to follow; until the parson—well worthy he of the name!—set him the example by leaping on the shingles, and pursuing the unhappy girl to her last refuge. He approached—he stretched forth his arm to seize her; but he was not destined to lay an impure touch on the devoted and heroic creature. I saw her lay her lips once on those of the poor Edith—the next instant the frail figure of the little sister was hurled from her arms, to be dashed to pieces on the stones below. In another, the hapless Isabella herself had followed her, having thrown herself headlong from the height, to escape by death a fate otherwise inevitable.
Of what followed I have but a faint and disordered recollection. I remember that the fall of the two maidens caused loud cries of horror from the men, and of lamentation from the women; and I remember, also, that these were renewed almost immediately after, but mingled with the sound of fire-arms discharged by a party of foes, and the voices of white men (among which I distinguished that of my master's son, the major) calling upon one another to "give no quarter to the miscreants." A party of armed horsemen had in fact ridden among us, and were now dealing death on all hands from pistols and sabres. From one of the latter weapons I myself received a severe cut, and was at the same time struck down by the hoofs of a horse, and left insensible.
When I recovered my senses I found myself a prisoner, bound hand and foot, and lying, with six or seven of my late companions, in a cart, in which, groaning with pain, for most of us were wounded, and anticipating a direful end to our dreams of conquest and revenge, we were trundled to the village, and there deposited in the county jail, to repent at leisure the rashness and enormity of our enterprise.
The power of that little pamphlet, of which I have said so much, to produce an effect for which we must charitably suppose it was not intended, was shown in the numbers of wretches by whom the prison was crowded; for it had been used to inflame the passions of the negroes on several different estates, all of whom had agreed to rise in insurrection, although, as it providentially happened the revolt extended to the length of murder only on Ridgewood Hill. The conspiracy was detected—I believe confessed by a slave—on a plantation adjacent to that of my master's son; who, being informed of it, and assisted by a party that brought the news, proceeded to seize the ringleaders in his own gang, some of whom, attempting to make their escape, were fired on; and this was the cause of the volley which we had heard, and supposed was fired by our fellow-conspirators beyond the creek. The major then crossed over to his father's estate, but too late to avert the tragedy which I have related. His father, his eldest sister, and her lover were already dead; as for the younger, Edith, she was taken up alive, but cruelly mangled, and she expired in a few hours. The faithful and devoted overseer, I have the happiness to believe, ultimately escaped with his life; for, although covered with wounds, and at first reported dead, he revived sufficiently to make deposition to the facts of the assault and murder, as far as he was cognizant of them, and I heard he was expected to recover.
Of those who perished, the father, the children, and the gallant friend, there was not one who was not, a fortnight before, respected and beloved by those who slew them; and at their death-hour they were as guiltless of wrong, and as deserving of affection and gratitude, as they ever had been. How, therefore, they came to be hated, and why they were killed, I am unable to divine. All that I know is, that we who loved them read a book which fell in our way, and from that moment knew them only as enemies—objects on whom we had a right to glut our fiercest passions.
As for ourselves—my deluded companions, at least—their fate can be easily imagined. Some were killed at the scene of murder; among others the chief leader, Governor, who was shot on the roof of the house. Parson Jim was wounded on the same place, and, rolling from the roof, was horribly crushed by the fall, but lingered in unspeakable agonies for several days, and then died. Scipio, the fiddler, was taken alive, tried, condemned, and executed, with many others whose participation in the crime left them no hope of mercy.
With these, I was myself put upon trial and adjudged to death; for although it was made apparent that I had not lifted my hand against any one, it was proved that I was more than privy to the plot—that I had been instrumental in fomenting it; and the known favour with which I had been treated, added the double die of ingratitude to my offence. I was therefore condemned, and bade to expect no mercy; nor did I expect it; for the fatal day appointed for the execution having arrived, a rope was put round my neck, and I was led to the gibbet.
And now I am about to relate what will greatly surprise the reader—I was not only found guilty and condemned—I was hanged! Escape was impossible, and I perceived it. The anguish of my mind—for in anguish it may be supposed I looked forward to my fate—was increased by the consciousness—so long slumbering—that flashed on it, as I was driven to the fatal tree, that I was, in reality,notTom the slave, but Sheppard Lee the freeman, and that I possessed a power of evading the halter, or any other inconvenience, provided I were allowed but one opportunity to exercise it. But where was I now to look for a dead body? It is true, there were bodies enough by-and-by, when my accomplices were tucked up around me; but what advantage could I derive from entering any one of them, since my fate must be equally certain to be hanged?
My distress, I repeat, was uncommonly great, and in the midst of it I was executed; which put an end to the quandary.
Here, it would seem, that my history should find its natural close; but I hope to convince the world that a man may live to record his own death and burial. I sayburial; for, from all I have heard, I judge that I was buried as well as hanged, and that I lay in the earth in a coarse deal coffin, from two o'clock in the afternoon of a November day, until nine at night; when certain young doctors of the village, who were desirous to show their skill in anatomy, came to the place of execution, and dug up the three best bodies, of which, as my good luck would have it, my own was one—Zip the fiddler's being another, while the third was that of a young fellow named Sam, notorious for nothing so much as a great passion he had for butting with his head against brick walls, or even stone ones, provided they were smooth enough.
The young anatomists, previous to hacking us, resolved to try some galvanic experiments on us, having procured a battery for that purpose; and they invited a dozen or more respectable gentlemen to be present, and witness the effects of that extraordinary fluid, galvanism, on our lifeless bodies.
The first essayed was that of the unfortunate Scipio, who, being well charged, began, to the admiration of all present, to raise first one arm, and then the other, then to twist the fingers of his left hand in a peculiar way, as if turning a screw, inclining his head the while towards his left shoulder, and then to saw the air, sweeping his right hand to and fro across his breast, with great briskness and energy, the fingers of his left titillating at the air all the while, so as to present the lively spectacle of a man playing the fiddle; and, indeed, it was judged, so natural was every motion, that had the party been provided with a fiddle and bow to put into his hands, they would have played such a jig as would have set all present dancing.
The next experiment tried was upon the body of Sam, whose muscles were speedily excited to exercise themselves in the way to which they had been most accustomed, though not in one so agreeable to the chief operator; for, in this case, the lifeless corse suddenly lifting up its head, bestowed it, with a jerk of propulsion equal in force to the but of a battering-ram, full against the stomach of the operator, whereby he was tumbled head over heels, and all the breath beaten out of his body.
The reader may suppose, as it was proved to be the virtue of galvanism to set the dead muscles doing those acts to which the living ones had been longest habituated, that I, upon being charged, could do nothing less than throw myself upon my hands and knees, and go galloping about the table, as I had been used to do over the lawn, when master Tommy was mounted upon my back.
Such, however, was not the fact. The first thing I did upon feeling the magical fluid penetrate my nerves, was to open my eyes and snap them twice or thrice; the second to utter a horrible groan, which greatly disconcerted the spectators; and the third to start bolt upright on my feet, and ask them "what the devil they were after?" In a word, I was suddenly resuscitated, and to the great horror of all present, doctors and lookers-on, who, fetching a yell, that caused me to think I had got among condemned spirits in purgatory, fled from the room, exclaiming that I "was the devil, and no niggur!" What was particularly lamentable, though I was far from so esteeming it, one of them, a young gentleman who had come to the exhibition out of curiosity, being invited by one of the doctors, was so overcome with terror, that before he reached the door of the room he fell down in a fit, and being neglected by the others, none of whom stopped to give him help, expired on the spot.
As for me, the cause of all the alarm, I believe I was ten times more frightened than any of the spectators, especially when I came to recollect that I had just been hanged, and that I would, in all probability, be hanged again, unless I now succeeded in making my escape. As for the cause of my resuscitation, and the events that accompanied it, I was then entirely ignorant of them; and, indeed, I must confess I learned them afterward out of the newspapers. I knew, however, that I had been hanged, and that I had been, by some extraordinary means or other, brought to life again; and I perceived that if I did not make my escape without delay, I should certainly be recaptured by the returning doctors.
I ran towards the door, and then, for the first time, beheld that unfortunate spectator who had fallen dead, as I mentioned before, and lay upon the floor with his face turned up. I recollected him on the instant, as being a young gentleman whom I had once or twice seen at my late master's house. All that I knew of him was, that his name was Megrim, that he was reputed to be very wealthy, and a great genius, or, as some said, eccentric, and that he was admired by the ladies, and, doubtless, because hewasa genius.
As I looked him in the face, I heard in the distance the uproar of voices, which had succeeded the flight of the doctors, suddenly burst out afresh, with the sound of returning footsteps; and a loud bully-like voice, which I thought very much like that of the under-turnkey at the prison—a man whom I had learned to fear—cried out, "Letme seeyour devil; for may I be cussed up hill and down hill if I ever seed a bigger one than myself."
Horrible as was the voice, I was not dismayed. I saw at my feet a city of refuge, into which my enemies could not pursue me. My escape was within my own power.
"Master," said I, touching my head (for I had no hat) to the corpse, "if it is all the same to you, I beg you'll let me take possession of your body."
As I pronounced the words the translation was effected, and that so rapidly, that just as I drew my first breath in the body of Mr. Megrim, it was knocked out of me by the fall of my old one, which—I not having taken the precaution to stand a little to one side—fell down like a thunderbolt upon me, bruising me very considerably about the precordia.
In this state, being half suffocated, and somewhat frightened, I was picked up and carried away by my new friends, and put to bed, where, having swallowed an anodyne, I fell directly sound asleep.
And here, before proceeding farther, I will say, that the doctors and their friends were greatly surprised to discover my late body lying dead, having expected to find it as animated as when they left it. But by-and-by, having reflected that the galvanism, or artificial life, infused into its nerves had been naturally exhausted at last, whereupon it as naturally followed that the body should return to its lifeless condition, they began to aver that the most surprising part of the business was, that it had kept me alive so long, and enabled me, after groaning and speaking as I had actually done, to walk so far from the table on which I had been lying.
On the whole, the phenomenon was considered curious and wonderful; and an account of it having been drawn up by the doctors, and headed "Extraordinary Case of the Effects of Galvanism on a Dead Body," it was printed for the benefit of scientific men throughout the world, in a medical journal, where, I doubt not, it may be found at this day.
Having been carried from the scene of my late transformation, as I mentioned before, physicked, put to bed, and allowed to sleep off my troubles, I awoke late on the following morning, feeling very comfortable, notwithstanding the bruises on my ribs, and with an uncommonly agreeable, though lazy sense of the enjoyment of lying a-bed. Indeed, this was my only feeling. I woke to a consciousness, though a vague one, of the change in my condition; and this, together with what I saw around me, when I had succeeded, after some effort, in getting my eyes a little opened, it may be supposed, would have filled me with surprise, and excited in me a great curiosity to inquire into matters relating to Mr. Arthur Megrim.
Such, however, was not the case. I looked upon the elegantly-adorned chamber in which I lay, and the sumptuous robes of my bed, with as much indifference, as if I had been accustomed to them all my life; and as for the happy destiny that now seemed opening upon me, I scarce thought on it at all.
Nor can I say that I felt in any way elated at my fortunate escape from the hangman and the anatomists. I remembered that affair with a drowsy indifference as being a matter of no further consequence to me; and as for Mr. Arthur Megrim's friends and kinsmen, his interests and relations in life, I thought to myself, with a yawn, "I shall know them all in good time."
I was content to take things as they might come, and eschew labours of mind as well as efforts of body. Curiosity, I felt, was a tumultuous passion, and I therefore resolved to avoid it. In this mood I turned over on the other side, and took a second nap.
From this I was roused, after a time, by some one tugging at my shoulder, who proved, upon examination, to be a very elegant-looking mulatto-boy—that is, a boy of twenty-five years or thereabouts—who signified, in language as genteel as his person, that it was exactly half past eleven o'clock, and therefore time for me to get up.
"Augh—well!" said I, taking about thirty seconds to gape out each word, it seemed such tiresome work to articulate; "what do you want?"
"Want you to get up, sah. Missie Ann says it does you no good to sleep so long."
"Augh—who is Missie Ann?"
"Lar bless us," said the gentleman, turning up the white of his eye, "Missie Ann is massa's sister!"
"Who is massa?"
"You, massa—Massa Arthur!"
"Augh—well; and who are you?"
"'Paminondas, massa. Coat very nicely brushed; very fine day; will do you good, sah, to get up and taste the air. Regular Indian summer, sah."
"You may go to the devil."
"Yes, sah."
With that I turned over for another nap, which I should undoubtedly have taken, had I not been interrupted, just as I was falling asleep, by the entrance of a lady of a somewhat starched and venerable appearance, though not more than six or seven years older than myself, I being perhaps twenty-five or six.
"A'n't you ashamed of yourself, Arthur!" said she. "Do tell me—do you intend to lie a-bed for ever?"
"Augh—pshaw!" said I. "Pray, madam, be so good as to inform me who you are, and—augh—what you want in my chamber?"
"Come," said the lady, "don't be ridiculous, and fall into any of your hyppoes again. Don't pretend you don't know your own sister, Ann Megrim."
"I won't," said I; "but—augh—sister, if you have no objection, I should like—augh—to sleep till dinner is ready."
"Dinner!" screamed my sister, Ann Megrim; "don't suppose you will ever be able to eat a dinner again. You know the doctor says it is your hard eating and your laziness together that have destroyed your digestive apparatus; and that, if you don't adhere to the bran bread and hickory ashes tea, you'll never be cured in the world."
"What!" said I, "am I sick?"
"Undoubtedly," said my sister Ann; "your digestive apparatus is all destroyed, and your nerves too. Did not you faint last night when they were galvanizing the bodies? Have you not lost all muscular power, so that you do nothing but lie on a bed or sofa all day long? Oh, really, brother Arthur Megrim, I am ashamed of you. A man like you—a young man and a rich man, a man of family and genius, a gentleman and a scholar, a man who might make himself governor of the state, or president of the nation, or any thing—yet to be nothing at all except the laziest man in Virginia, a man with no digestive apparatus, a poor nervous hyppo—oh, it is too bad! Do get up and stir yourself. Mount your horse, or go out in the carriage. Exercise, you know, is the only thing to restore strength to the digestive apparatus."
"Sister Ann," said I, "the more you speak of my digestive apparatus, the more—augh—the more I am convinced you don't know what you are talking about. I am resolved to get up and eat my dinner—"
"Of bran bread and hickory ashes," said my sister.
"Of canvass-back ducks and terapins," said I. At which Miss Ann Megrim expressed terror and aversion, and endeavoured to convince me that such indulgence would be punished by a horrible indigestion, as had been the case a thousand times before.
But cogent as were her arguments, I had, or felt, one still stronger on my side, being a savage appetite, which was waking within that very digestive apparatus she held in such disesteem, and which became the more eager the more she besought me to resist it.
The discussion was so far advantageous that it set me wide awake; and by-and-by, the zealous Epaminondas having made his second appearance, I succeeded, with his assistance, in getting on my clothes and descending to the dining-room, where, to the great horror and grief of my affectionate relative, I demolished two ducks and a half (being the true canvass-backs, orwhite-backs, as they call them in that country), and a full grown tortoise, of the genusemys, and speciespalustris. And in this operation, I may say, I found the first excitement of pleasure which I had yet known in my new body, and displayed an energy of application of which I did not before know that I was capable. Nor am I certain that any ill consequences followed the meal. I felt, indeed, a strong propensity to throw myself on a sofa and recruit after the labours of eating; but this Miss Megrim resisted, insisting I should get into my carriage (for it seems I had one, and a very handsome one too), and drive about to avoid a surfeit.
In this I consented to gratify her wishes, whereby I gratified one of my own; for I fell sound asleep within five minutes after starting, and so remained until the excursion was over.
Then, being as hungry as ever, and not knowing what else to do, I picked my teeth over a newspaper, and nodded at a novel until supper was got ready, which (disregarding Miss Megrim's exhortations, as before) I attacked with the good-will I had carried to my dinner, eating on this occasion two terapins and a half and one whole duck, of the genusanas, and speciesvallisneria.[1]
The only ill consequences were, that I dreamed of the devil and his imps all night, and that I awoke in a crusty humour next morning.
[1]I had these learned names of a scientific doctor in the village, and I have see them also in the newspapers.
[1]I had these learned names of a scientific doctor in the village, and I have see them also in the newspapers.
If there be among my readers any person so discontented with his lot that he would be glad to exchange conditions with another, I think, had he been acquainted with Mr. Arthur Megrim, he would have desired an exchange with him above all other persons in the world; for Mr. Megrim possessed all those requisites which are thought to ensure happiness to a human being. He was young, rich, and independent; of a good family (he boasted the chivalrous blood of the Megrims); of a sound body, and serene temper; and with no appetite for those excesses which ruin the reputation, while they debase the minds and destroy the peace of youth. His years, as I have mentioned already, were twenty-five or six; his revenues were far above his wants, and enabled him to support his town-house, which was the most elegant one in the village, where he lived remote from the care and trouble of his plantations; and as for independence,thatwas manifestly complete, he being a bachelor, and the sole surviver of his family, excepting only his sister, Miss Ann Megrim, who managed his household, and thus took from his mind the only care that could otherwise have disturbed it.
What then in the whole world had Mr. Megrim to trouble him? Nothing on earth—and for that reason, to speak paradoxically, he was more troubled than any one else on earth. Labour, pain, and care—the evils which men are so apt to censure Providence for entailing upon the race—I have had experience enough to know, are essential to the true enjoyment of life, serving, like salt, pepper, mustard, and other condiments and spices, which are, by themselves, ungrateful to the palate, to give a relish to the dish that is insipid and cloying without them. Who enjoys health—who is so sensible of the rapture of being well, as he who has just been relieved from sickness? Who can appreciate the delightful luxury of repose so well as the labourer released from his daily toil? Who, in fine, tastes of the bliss of happiness like him who is introduced to it after a probation of suffering? The surest way to cure a boy of a love of cakes and comfils, is to put him apprentice to a confectioner. The truth is, that the sweets of life, enjoyed by themselves, are just as disgusting as the bitters, and can only be properly relished when alternated or mingled with the latter.
But as this is philosophy, and the reader will skip it, I will pursue the subject no further, but jump at once from the principle to the practical illustration, as seen in my history while a resident in the body of Mr. Arthur Megrim.
I was, on the sudden, a rich young man, with nothing on earth to trouble me. I had lands and houses, rich plantations, a nation or two of negroes, herds of sheep and cattle, with mills, fisheries, and some half dozen or more gold-mines, which last—and it may be considered, out of Virginia, a wondrous evidence of my wealth—were decidedly the least valuable of all my possessions. With all these things I was made acquainted by my sister Ann, or otherwise, it is highly probable, I should have known nothing about them; for during the whole period of my seventh existence, I confined myself to my property in the village, not having the least curiosity to visit my plantations, which, as everybody told me, were in good hands.
In the village itself I had every thing about me to secure happiness—a fine house, abundance of servants, the whole under the management of the best of housekeepers, my sister Ann, with horses and carriages—for which, however, I cared but little, thinking it laborious to ride, and as tedious to be driven—and, above all, friends without number, who treated me with a respect amounting to veneration (for, it must be remembered, I was the richest man in the county), and with a degree of affection little short of idolatry; but whom, however, I thought very troublesome, tiresome people, seeing that they visited me too often, and wearied me to death with long conversations about every thing.
Among them all, there was but one for whom I felt any friendship; and he was a young doctor named Tibbikens, for whom my sister Ann had a great respect, and who had been retained by her to assist in taking care of my digestive apparatus—that same digestive apparatus of mine being a hobby on which my sister lavished more thought and anxiety than I believe she did upon her own soul—not meaning to reflect upon her religion, however, for she was a member of the Presbyterian church, and quite devout about the time of communion. The cause of her solicitude, as she gave me frequent opportunity to know by her allusion to the fact, was her having been once afflicted in her own person with a disorder of the digestive apparatus, which it had been the good fortune of Doctor Tibbikens to cure by a regimen of bran bread and hickory ashes water; and hence her affection for the doctor and the remedy. I liked the doctor myself because he had the same solicitude about my health, without troubling me with advice except when I asked it, or finding much fault when I did not follow it; because his conversation was agreeable, except when he was in a scientific humour, and did not require any efforts on my part to keep it up; because he liked terapins and white-backs as well as myself, and was of opinion they were wholesome, provided one ate them in moderation; and, in fine, because he took pains to help me to amusement, and was of great assistance in dissipating somewhat of that tedium which was the first evil with which I was afflicted in the body of Mr. Arthur Megrim. I believe the doctor had a strong fancy for my sister; but she used to declare she could never think of marrying, and thus being drawn from what she felt to be the chief duty of her existence, namely—the care of my digestive apparatus.
And now, having mentioned tedium of existence as being an evil to which I soon felt myself subject, I will say that it was one I found more oppressive than the reader can readily imagine. I had nothing in the world to do, and, as it happened, my disposition did not lead me to seek any thing. I was, in a word, the very man my sister had so reproachfully called me in our first conversation—that is, the laziest man in all Virginia; and, upon reflection, I can think of no person in the world who would bear a comparison with me in that particular, except myself. "None but himself can be his parallel," as somebody or other says, I don't know who, a sentiment that is supposed to be absurd, inasmuch as it involves an impossibility, but which becomes good sense when applied to me. In my original condition, in the body in which I was first introduced to life, I certainly had a great aversion to all troublesome employments, whether of business or amusement, being supposed by many persons to bethenwhat as many considered me now—to wit, the laziest man in my state. Whether I was lazier as Sheppard Lee the Jerseyman or Arthur Megrim the Virginian, I am not able to say. In both cases indolence was at the bottom of all my troubles. There was this difference, however, between the two conditions, that whereas I had felt in one the evils of laziness to a poor man, I was now to discover in the other what were its evils to a man of fortune.
My chief employments in the body of Mr. Arthur Megrim were eating and sleeping; and I certainly should have done nothing else, had I been allowed to follow my own humours. Eating and sleeping, therefore, consumed the greater portion of my time; but it could not consume all; nor could the residue be filled up by the occasional excursions in my curricle, and the still more unfrequent strolls through the village, into which I was driven by my affectionate sister, or cajoled by her coadjutor, the doctor, in their zealous care of my digestive apparatus. As for visits and visitations, I abhorred them all, whether they related to the bustling young gentlemen of the neighbourhood, or the loquacious ladies, old and young, who cultivated the friendship of my sister.
Employ myself, however, as I might, there always remained a portion of each day which I could not get rid of, either in bed or at the table. On such occasions I was devoured by ennui, and thought that even existence was an infliction—that it was hard work to live. According to my sister's account, I was a scholar and a genius; in which case I ought to have found employment enough of an intellectual nature, either in books or the reflections of my own mind. I certainly had a very large and fine library in my house, and there was scarce a week passed by in which I did not receive a huge bundle of the newest publications from a book-seller, who had long had it in charge thus to supply me. Of these I usually read the title-pages, and then turned them over to my sister, or, which was more common, lent them to my neighbours, who, male and female together, came flocking to borrow the day after, and sometimes the day before, the arrival of each package, taking good care to rob me of those that were most interesting. The truth is, if I ever had had the power of reading, I had now lost it. Books only set me nodding.
As for exercising my mind in reflections of its own, that was even more laborious than reading; and I contracted a dislike to it, particularly as my mind wore itself out every night in dreaming, that being a result of the goodly suppers I used to eat. It is true, that I one day fell into a sudden ferment, and being inspired, actually seized upon pen and paper, and wrote a poem in blank verse, forty lines long, with which I was so pleased that I read it to Tibbikens and my sister, both of whom were in raptures with it, the former carrying it off to the editor of the village paper, who printed it with such a eulogium upon its merits, as made me believe Byron was a fool to me, while all the young ladies immediately paid my sister Ann a visit, that they might tell me how they admired the beautiful piece, and lament that I wrote so seldom. I forget what the poem was about; but I remember I was so delighted with the praise bestowed on it, that I resolved to write another, which, however, I did not do, having unfortunately begun it in rhyme, which was difficult, and my fit of inspiration and energy having left me before I got through with my next dinner. It was my writing verses, I suppose, that caused me to be called a genius; but it seems I was too lazy to be inspired more than once or twice a year.
I relapsed into ennui, and, truly, I became more tired of it before it was done with me, than was ever a labourer of his hod or mattock.
But ennui was not the worst of the evils that clouded my happy lot. Some touches of that diabolical disorder, the curse of the rich man, which, as my sister so often gave me to know, had threatened the peace of Mr. Arthur Megrim several times before, now began to assail my own serenity, and threw gall and ratsbane over my dinners. I had slighted her warnings, and despised her advice, and now I was to pay the price of indiscretion. In a word, that very digestive apparatus, on which she read me a lecture at least thrice a day, began to grumble, refuse to do duty, andstrike; though, unlike the industrious artisans, who were in all quarters setting it the example, it struck, not for high wages, of which it had had a surfeit, but for low ones, in which, however, its master was scarce able to oblige it, having an uncommonly good appetite most of the time; and even when he had not, not well knowing how to dispose of his time unless at the table.
My faithful sister, who had been so constant to predict, was the first to detect the coming evil, and, step by step, she pointed it out to my unwilling observation.
"Arthur," said she, one morning as we sat at breakfast, "your eyelid is winking."
"Augh—" said I, "yes; it is winking."
"It is a sign," said she, "your digestive apparatus is getting out of order!"
"Augh!" said I, "hang the digestive apparatus!" for I was tired of hearing it mentioned.
"Arthur," said she, the next day, "you are beginning to look yellow and bilious!"
"Yes," said I; on which she declared that "the alkalis of my biliary fluids"—she had studied the whole theory and nomenclature of dyspepsy out of a book the doctor lent her—"were beginning to fail to coalesce, in the natural chymical way, with the acids of the chymous mass; and that no better argument could be desired to prove that my digestive apparatus was getting out of order." And she concluded by recommending me to regulate my diet, and fall back upon bran bread and hickory ashes.
In short, my dear sister assailed me with a pertinacity equal to the disease itself, so that I came, in a short time, to consider her as one of its worst symptoms.
To add to my woes, Dr. Tibbikens began to go over to her opinion, to talk of my digestive apparatus, and to drop hints in relation to bran bread and hickory ashes, which would decidedly have robbed him of my friendship, had I not at last found myself unable to do without him.
To make a long story short, I will omit a detailed history of my tribulations during the winter, and skip at once to the following spring; at the opening of which I found myself, young, rich, and independent as I was, the bond-slave and victim of a malady to which the woes of age and penury are as the sting of moschetoes to the teeth of raging tigers.
Reader, I have, in the course of this history, related to thee many miseries which it was my lot, on different occasions, to encounter, and some of them of a truly cruel and insupportable character. Could I, however, give thee a just conception of the ills I was now doomed to suffer, which, of a certainty, I cannot do, unless thou art at this moment the victim of a similar infliction, I am convinced thou wouldst agree with me, that I had now stumbled upon a grief that concentrated in itself all others of which human nature is capable.
Dost thou know what it is to have thy stomach stuffed, like an ostrich's, with old iron hoops and brickbats—or feeling as if it were? to have it now drowned in vinegar, now scorched as with hot potatoes? thy head filled with achings, dizziness, and streaks of lightning? thy heart transformed into the heels of a hornpipe-dancer, and plying thy ribs, lungs, and diaphragm with the energy of anartistein the last agony?
If thou dost, then thou wilt know that bodily distress, of which the above miseries form but a small portion, is the least of the evils of dyspepsy—that its most horrible symptoms develop themselves in the mind. What care those devils, falsely called blue (for they are as black as midnight, or the bile which engenders them), for the youth, the wealth, the independence, the gentility of a man whose digestive apparatus is out of order? The less cause he may have in reality to be dissatisfied with his lot, the more cause they will find him; the greater and more legitimate his claims to be a happy man, the more fierce and determined their efforts to make him a miserable one.
The serenity of my mind gave way before the attacks of these monsters; sleeping and waking, by day and by night, they assailed me with equal pertinacity and fury. If I slept, it was only to be tormented by demon and caco-demon—to be ridden double by incubus and succuba, under whose bestriding limbs I felt like a Shetland pony carrying two elephants. My dreams, indeed, so varied and terrific were the images with which they afflicted me, I can compare to nothing but the horrors or last delirium of a toper. Hanging, drowning, and tumbling down church-steeples were the common and least frightful of the fancies that crowded my sleeping brain: now I was blown up in a steamboat, or run over by a railroad car; now I was sticking fast in a burning chimney, scorching and smothering, and now, head downwards, in a hollow tree, with a bear below snapping at my nose; now I was plastered up in a thick wall, with masons hard at work running the superstructure up higher, and now I was enclosed in a huge apple-dumpling, boiling in a pot over a hot fire. One while I was crushed by a boa constrictor; another, perishing by inches in the mouth of a Bengal tiger; and, again, I was in the hands of Dr. Tibbikens and his scientific coadjutors of the village, who were dissecting me alive. In short, there was no end to the torments I endured in slumber, and nothing could equal them except those that beset me while awake.
A miserable melancholy seized upon my spirits, in which those very qualifications which everybody envied me the possession of were regarded with disgust, as serving only the purpose of adding to my tortures. What cared I for youth, when it opened only a longer vista of living wretchedness? What to me was the wealth which I could not enjoy? which had been given me only to tantalize? And as for independence, the idea was a mockery; the servitude of a galley-slave was freedom, unlimited license, compared with my subjection to dyspepsy, and—for the truth must be confessed—the doctor; to whom I was at last obliged to submit,nolens volens.
WhetherDr. Tibbikens treated mesecundum artemor not, I cannot say; but true it is, that instead of getting better, I grew gradually worse, until my melancholy became a confirmed hypochondriasis, and fancies gloomy and dire, wild and strange, seized upon my brain, and conjured up new afflictions.
Getting up early one morning, I found, to my horror, that I had been, in my sleep, converted into a coffee-pot; a transformation which I thought so much more extraordinary than any other I had ever undergone, that I sent for my sister Ann, and imparted to her the singular secret.
"Oh!" said she, bursting into tears, "it is all on account of your unfortunate digestive apparatus. But, oh! brother Arthur, don't let such notions get into your head. A coffee-pot, indeed! that's too ridiculous!"
I was quite incensed at her skepticism, but still more so at the conduct of Dr. Tibbikens, who, being sent for, hearing of my misfortune, and seeing me stand in the middle of the floor, with my left arm akimbo, like a crooked handle, and the right stretched out in the manner of a spout, seized me by the shoulders and marched me towards a great hickory fire that was blazing on the hearth.
"What do you mean, Tibbikens?" said I.
"Towarm you," said he: "I like my coffee hot; and so I intend to boil you over again on that very fire!"
At these words I started, trembled, and awoke as from a dream, assuring him I had made a great mistake, and was no more of a coffee-pot than he was; an assurance that doubtless prevented my undergoing an ordeal which I was neither saint nor fire-king enough to endure with impunity. Indeed, I was quite ashamed of having permitted such a delusion to enter my brain.
The next day, however, a still more afflicting change came over me; for having tried to read a book, in which I was interrupted by a great dog barking in the street, I was seized with a rage of a most unaccountable nature, and falling on my hands and feet, I responded to the animal's cries, and barked in like manner, being quite certain that I was as much of a dog as he. Nay, my servant Epaminondas coming in, I seized him by the leg and would have worried him, had he not run roaring out of the chamber; and my sister Ann coming to the door, I flew at her with such ferocity that she was fain to escape down stairs. The doctor was again sent for, and popping suddenly into the chamber, he rushed upon me with a great horsewhip he had snatched up along the way, and fell to belabouring me without mercy, crying out all the while, "Get out, you rascal, get out!"
"Villain!" said I, jumping on my hind legs, and dancing about to avoid his lashes, "what do you mean?"
"To whip you down stairs, you cur!" said he, flourishing his weapon again.
On which I assured him as earnestly as I could that "I was no cur whatever;" and indeed I was quite cured of the fancy.
My next conceit was (the morning being cold, and my fire having gone out), that I was an icicle; which fancy was dispelled by the doctor saluting me with a bucket of water, on pretence of melting me; and I was doubtless melted all the sooner for being drenched in water exactly at the freezing-point.
After this I experienced divers other transformations, being now a chicken, now a loaded cannon, now a clock, now a hamper of crockery-ware, and a thousand things besides; all which conceits the doctor cured without much difficulty, and with as little consideration for the roughness of his remedies. Being a chicken, he attempted to wring my neck, calling me a dunghill rooster, fit only for the pot; he discharged the cannon from my fancies by clapping a red-hot poker to my nose; and the crate of crockery he broke to pieces by casting it on the floor, to the infinite injury of my bones. The clock at first gave him some trouble, until, pronouncing it to have a screw out of order, he seized upon one of my front teeth with a pair of pincers, and by a single wrench dissipated the delusion for ever.
In short (for I do not design particularizing my transformations further), there was no conceit entered my brain which Dr. Tibbikens did not cure by a conceit; until, one morning, by some mysterious revelation, the nature and means of which can only be guessed at, I found that I had been elected the Emperor of France, and announced my intention to set sail for my government immediately, in the first ship of the line which the American executive could put at my disposal.
This fancy quite disconcerted Dr. Tibbikens, and I heard him say to my sister, "He is a gone casenow,—quite mad, I assure you;" which expression so much offended me, that I ordered him from my presence, and told him that, were it not for my respect for the American government, whose subject he was, I would have his head for his impertinence.
But wo betide the day! the doctor returned to me in less than an hour, bringing with him every physician in the village, who, having looked at me a moment, went into another apartment, where they argued hotly together for another hour. At the expiration of this they returned, led by Tibbikens, who, to my great satisfaction, now fell on his knees, and "begged my imperial majesty's pardon for presuming to request that I would allow myself to be dressed in my imperial majesty's robe of state;" which robe of state, although I was surprised at its plainness (for it was of a coarse linen texture, without gold lace or jewels, and of a very strange shape—closed in front and open in the rear), I immediately consented to put on, so pleased was I with the homage of the doctor.
If I was surprised at the appearance of the imperial garment, much more was I astonished when, having slipped my arms into its sleeves, I found them,—that is, my arms,—suddenly pinioned, buried, sewed up, as it were, among the folds of the robe, so that, when it was tied behind me, as it immediately was, I was as well secured as when I was tied up for execution on a former occasion. Alas! the disappointment to my pride! I understood the whole matter in a moment: my imperial robe of state was nothing less nor more than a strait waistcoat, constructed upon the spur of the moment, but still on scientific principles.
And now, being entirely at the mercy of the deceitful Tibbikens, I was seized upon with a strong hand, my head shaved and thrust into a sack of pounded ice, from which it was not taken until after a six days' congelation, and then only to be transferred to a nightcap of Spanish flies, exceedingly comfortable on the first application, but which, within a few hours, I had every reason to pronounce the most execrable covering in existence. And what made it still more intolerable, I never complained of it that Tibbikens did not assure me "it was the imperial coronet of France," and then exclaim, in the words of some old play, "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
And then I was physicked and starved, phlebotomized, soused in cold water and scalded in hot, rubbed down with rough blanket cloths and hair-brushes as stiff as wool-cards, scorched with mustard plasters, bombarded by an electrical machine, and in general attacked by every weapon of art which the zeal of my tormentors could bring into play against me.
In this way, if I was not cured of my disease, I was, at least, brought into subjection. I ceased complaining, which I did at first, and with becoming indignation, of the traitorous and sacrilegious violence done to my anointed body, for such I at first considered it. The arguments of my persecutors, however, to prove the contrary, were irresistible, being chiefly syllogisms, of which the major proposition was calomel and jalap, the minor mustard plasters and blisters, and the conclusion cold water, phlebotomy, and flax-seed tea. The same arguments, varied categorically according to circumstances, convinced me that if my imperial elevation, or the notion thereof, was not sheer insanity on my own part, my doctors thought so—which was the same thing in effect; and I therefore took good care, when bewailing my hard fate, not to charge it, as I at first did, to the democratic wrath and jealousy of my tormentors.
This conversion of mine to their own opinion—or, if the reader will so have it, my return to rationality—had a favourable effect on my doctors. They removed (very circumspectly indeed) the strait jacket from my arms; and then, seeing I made no attempt to tear them to pieces, but was, on the contrary, very quiet and submissive, and that, instead of claiming to be Charlemagne the Second of France, I was content to be Mr. Arthur Megrim, of Virginia, they were so well satisfied of the cure they had effected, that they agreed to free me of their company, and so left me in the sole charge of Tibbikens and my affectionate sister.
In this manner I was cured of hypochondriasis; for although I felt, ever and anon, a strong propensity to confess myself a joint-stool, a Greek demigod, or some such other fanciful creature, I retained so lively a recollection of the penalties I had already paid for indulging in such vagaries, that I put a curb on my imagination, and resolved for the future to be nothing but plain Mr. Megrim, a gentleman with a disordered digestive apparatus.
I was cured of my hypochondriasis—I may say, also, of my dyspepsy—being kept by Tibbikens and my sister in such a starved condition, that it was impossible I should ever more complain of indigestion. But I was not yet cured of my melancholy; nothing but canvass-backs and terapins could cure that—and these, alas! were never more to bless my lips. Tibbikens had pronounced their fate, and with them, mine: thenceforth and for ever my diet was to be looked for in those—next to my digestive apparatus—chief favourites of my sister, bran bread and hickory ashes; my stomach, he solemnly assured me, would never be able to sustain any thing else.
I say, therefore, I was melancholy; and great reason had I to be so, condemned to live a life of ascetic denial, with the means in my hand to purchase all the luxuries in the world, and, which was worse, an eternal desire to enjoy them.
To banish this melancholy—alas! never to be banished—and perhaps to give me a little appetite for my bran bread and ashes, for which I never could contract a relish, the friendly Tibbikens again seduced me into the open air and my carriage, and carried me about to different places in which he thought I might find amusement. In this way he had conducted my prototype, the true Arthur Megrim, before me, whenever indolence and the luxuries of the table brought him too near to dyspepsy; and it was this uncommon kindness of the physician, in dragging the unfortunate gentleman to witness the galvanic experiments on the bodies of the executed felons, which had helped him so suddenly out of his own. Dr. Tibbikens was not, indeed, very choice whither he carried me, lugging me along with equal alacrity to a horse-race, a barbacue, or to the bedsides of his patients.
All his efforts, however, were vain. The memory of what I had suffered, with the anticipation of what I was yet to endure, with, doubtless, the addition of the ills for the time being, preyed upon my spirit. I followed him mechanically, and in a sort of torpor, incapable of enjoying myself, incapable almost of noting what passed before me. I was tired of the life of the young and affluent Mr. Megrim, and I should have been glad to exchange his body for some one's else: but, unluckily, my mind was so weighed down with indolence, melancholy, and stupefaction, that I really did not think of so natural a means of ending my troubles.
In this condition, greatly to the concern of my friendly physician, I remained until towards the end of March, when an incident happened which gave an impulse to my spirit greater than it had ever before experienced.
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 atthat! 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 isembalmed, 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.
I was not then mistaken! It was Feuerteufel himself, only he had learned a little more English. This was the first and only one of my original acquaintances whom I had laid eyes on since my departure from New-Jersey, nearly two years before. I felt some interest, therefore, in the man, but it was accompanied with a feeling of dislike, and even apprehension. The truth is, I never liked the German doctor, though why I never could tell. But what was he doing—what could be his object going about the country with petrified legs, arms, and heads? I had scarce asked myself the question before it was answered by the gentleman himself, who had been speaking, though I know not what, all the time I was talking with Tibbikens, and while I was cogitating afterward.
He had worked himself into a fit of eloquence, warming with enthusiasm as he dwelt upon the grandeur and usefulness of his discovery. He made antic gestures with hands, head, and shoulders; he rolled and snapped his eyes in the most extraordinary manner in the world; and as for his mouth, there is no describing the grimaces and contortions which it made over every particularly bright idea or felicitous word.
"Zhentlemens!" said he, "I have discover de great art to preserve de human poddie; I can make him shtone, I can make him plaster-Paree, I can make him shuse as he is, dat isflesh—put flesh vat is never corrupt. Very well! vat shall I do mit de great discoaver? Mit de first I shall preserve de poddies of de great men—de kings, and de shenerals, and de poets, and de oder great men; and you shall see how mosh petter it is tan de statues marple. How mosh petter to have de great man as de great man look in de flesh, mit his eyes shining, his skin and his colour all de pure natural! How mosh petter dat dan de imitation! Suppose you have de painter who take de looking-glass; and when you look in him, glue down de reflection dare for ever!—de natural colour, de natural drawing, de light and de shade? How mosh petter dat dan de picture in dirty oil and ochre! (I tell you, py-the-py, zhentlemens, I do studydatart, and I hopes some day to make de grand discoaver—to put you reflection on de proper substance, like de looking-glass, dat shall hold on to de colours, and hold'em on for ever!) Vell, zhentlemens, I do de same ting mit de statue; I take de nature as I find him—de shape, de colour, de lips, de eyes, de hair, de all—and I do, py my process, make him indestructeeble, and not to alter for ever. Here is de little poy's head dat I have done in dat style. Dat is de art! dat is de art of making deshtonemummee! It shall pe de most costly, de most expense, and derefore only for de great, great men—de shenerals of war, de preshidents, and de mens in Congress vat makes de pig speech. Vell! den I shall make de oder style—de process to turn de poddie into plaster-Paree—vat I call deplastermummee. Dat is not so dear; dat is de art for de great men vat is not so great as de oders—for de leetle great men—de goavernors, de editors of de paper, and de mens vat you give de grand dinners to. Vell! den I shall make de oder style—de style for de zhentlemens and leddees in zheneral, vat vill not go to rot in de ground like de horse and de dog—de style of de flesh unshange—vat I call deflesh and ploodmummee, shuse like dis woman head mit de long hair. Dis is de sheep plan; it vill cost no more dan de price of de funeral. It vill be done in tree days. De poddie is made incorruptible, proof against de water, vat you call water-proof. It is de process for de peoples in zheneral; and I do hopes to see de day ven it shall pe in universal adopt by all, and no more poddies put into de earth to rot, and to make de pad health for de peoples dat live. It is de shtyle for de unwholesome countrees. Zhentlemens, you have know dat de Egyptians did make all dare friends mummee. Why for dey do dat? Very good reason. De land upon de Nile vas unwholesome, and de purrying of de poddies made it vorse. There vas no wood dere to purn de poddies. Vell den, dey did soak dem in de petrolium, de naptha, and oder substance antiseptique, and hide dem in de catacomb and de pyramid. Dere vas no decay, no corruption to poison de air; it vas vise plan!
"Now, zhentlemens, I have devise my plan for de benefit of America, vich is de most unwholesome land in de earth, full of de exhalation and de miasm, de effluvium from de decay animal and vegetable. You shall adopt my plan for embalm your friends, and you no have no more pad air for de fevers, de bilious, de agues, and de plack vomit. Zhentlemens, I have shuse complete my great secret; it vas de study of my whole life; I have shuse succeed. I have de full and complete specimens of de process for make de sheep mummee, de mummee of flesh and plood, de plan for de men in zheneral, vich do always love to pe sheep. I have start carry dem to de great city New-Orleans; and if de peoples do adopt him dere, dey shall have no more complain of de great sickness vat kills de peoples; for dere shall be no more rot of man's flesh in de swampy ground. Here you see de ox-heart, de catfish, de bullfrog, de six hands and feet, all done into flesh and plood mummee. Here is de woman's head. It has been done dis tree year. But you shall see de grand specimen, de complete figure, de grown man turn into de mummee, and look more natural dan de life. Dat is de triumph of mine art! It was my first grand specimen, done dere is now two year almost, and it did cost me mosh expense and money, and some leetle danger. Now you shall say de specimen is perfect, or you shall have my head; it is vat I value apove my life—de complete! de grand! de peautiful!—But you shall see!"
Having thus completed his lecture, or oration, of which I must confess I had begun to grow tired, the German doctor suddenly stepped to a great round box, like a watchman's box, that stood at the further end of the room, and unlocking the folding leaves of which it was composed, swung them round with a jerk, exhibiting an inner case, evidently of glass, but entirely covered over with a thick curtain. This he proceeded to remove, by tugging at a string which hoisted it to the ceiling; and as it ascended there was disclosed to the eyes of the wondering spectators a human figure within the case, clad loosely in a sort of Roman garment, and for all the world looking entirely like a living being, except that the eyes were fixed in a set unnatural stare, and the attitude was a little stiff and awkward.
A murmur, with twenty or more faint shrieks from the females present, attested the admiration with which the spectators caught sight of this wonderful triumph of skill and science; but I—heavens and earth! what weremyfeelings, what wasmyastonishment, when I beheld in that lifeless mummy my own lost body! the mortal tenement in which I had first drawn the breath, and experienced the woes, of life! the body of Sheppard Lee the Jerseyman! This, then, was its fate—not to be anatomized and degraded into a skeleton, as the vile Samuel the kidnapper had told me, but converted into a mummy by a new process, for the especial benefit of science and the world; and Dr. Feuerteufel, the man for whom I had always cherished an instinctive dislike and horror, was the worthy personage who had stolen it, what time I had myself interrupted his designs upon the body of the farmer's boy, in the old graveyard near the Owl-roost! I looked upon my face—that is, the face of the mummy—and a thousand recollections of my original home and condition burst upon my mind; the tears started into my eyes with them. What had I gained by forsaking the lot to which Providence had assigned me? In a moment, the woes of Higginson, of Dawkins, Skinner, Longstraw, Tom the slave, and Megrim the dyspeptic, rushed over my memory, contrasted with those lesser ones of Sheppard Lee, which I had so falsely considered as rendering me the most miserable man in the world.
What other notions may have crowded my brain, what feeling may have entered my bosom, I am now unable to describe. The sight of my body thus restored to me, and in the midst of my sorrow and affliction, inviting me, as it were, back to my proper home, threw me into an indescribable ferment. I stretched out my arms, I uttered a cry, and then rushing forward, to the astonishment of all present, I struck my foot against the glass case with a fury that shivered it to atoms—or, at least, the portion of it serving as a door, which, being dislodged by the violence of the blow, fell upon the floor and was dashed to pieces. The next instant, disregarding the cries of surprise and fear which the act occasioned, I seized upon the cold and rigid hand of the mummy, murmuring, "Let me live again in my own body, and never—no! never more in another's!"
Happiness of happiness! although, while I uttered the words, a boding fear was on my mind, lest the long period the body had lain inanimate, and more especially the mummifying process to which it had been subjected, might have rendered it unfit for further habitation, I had scarce breathed the wish before I found myself in that very body, descending from the box which had so long been its prison, and stepping over the mortal frame of Mr. Arthur Megrim, now lying dead on the floor.
Indescribable was the terror produced among the spectators by this double catastrophe—the death of their townsman, and the revival of the mummy. The women fell down in fits, and the men took to their heels; and a little boy, who was frightened into a paroxysm of devotion, dropped on his knees, and began fervently to exclaim,
"Now I lay me down to sleep,I pray the Lord my soul to keep."
In short, the agitation was truly inexpressible, and fear distracted all. But on no countenance was this passion (mingled with a due degree of amazement) more strikingly depicted than on that of the German doctor, who, thus compelled to witness the object of a thousand cares, the greatest and most perfect result of his wonderful discovery, slipping off its pedestal and out of his hands, as by a stroke of enchantment, stared upon me with eyes, nose, and mouth, speechless, rooted to the floor, and apparently converted into a mummy himself. As I stepped past him, however, hurrying to the door, with a vague idea that the sooner I reached it the better, his lips were unlocked, and his feelings found vent in a horrible exclamation—"Der tyfel!" which I believe means the devil—"Der tyfel! I have empalm him too well!"