s here represented by a faint semblance
of life. Remove the cork and drop in a solid particle of alum, however
infinitesimal. Suddenly, the liquid thickens into a solid lump and gives
off heat. What has happened? This: crystallization has set in at the
first contact of the particle of alum, the center of attraction;
next, it has spread bit by bit, each solidified particle producing the
solidification of those around. The impulse comes from an atom; the mass
impelled is boundless. The very small has revolutionized the immense.

Of course, in the comparison between these two instances and the effects
of my injections, the reader must see no more than a figure of speech,
which, without explaining anything, tries to throw a glimmer of light
upon it. The long procession of card friars is knocked down by the mere
touch of the little finger to the first; the voluminous solution of alum
suddenly turns solid under the influence of an invisible particle.
In the same way, the victims of my operations succumb, thrown
into convulsions by a tiny drop of insignificant size and harmless
appearance.

Then what is there in that terrible liquid? First of all, there is
water, inactive in itself and simply a vehicle of the active agent. If
a proof were needed of its innocuousness, here is one: I inject into the
thigh of any one of the sacred beetle's six legs a drop of pure water
larger than that of the fatal inoculations. As soon as he is released,
he makes off and trots about as nimbly as usual. He is quite firm on
his legs. When put back to his pellet, he rolls it with the same zeal as
before the experiment. My injection of water makes no difference to him.

What else is there in the mixture in my watch glasses? There is the
disintegrated matter of the corpse, especially shreds of dried muscles.
Do these substances yield certain soluble elements to water? Or are they
simply reduced to a fine dust in the crushing? I will not decide this
question, nor is it really of importance. The fact remains that the
poison proceeds from those substances and from them alone. Animal
matter, therefore, which has ceased to live is an agent of destruction
within the organism. The dead cell kills the living cell; in the
delicate statics of life, it is the grain of sand which, refusing its
support, entails the collapse of the whole edifice.

In this connection, we may recall those dreadful dissecting room
accidents. Through awkwardness, a student of anato