“I hurried back to Philadelphia, and strove to mitigate my grief in the vortex of unrestrained dissipation. I lavished my gold on undeserving and unthankful objects. I cared not for life, much less for fortune. I was the victim of a frenzy that rendered me reckless, and bereft me of calm meditation. My frantic laughter was heard at the gaming-table, and my plaudits were boisterous at the theatre, but I was a stranger to enjoyment. There was no pleasure for me. My brawling companions swore I was the happiest and noblest being on earth. But I knew too well there was not a more miserable fiend in hell.
“At length disease fortunately arrested my demoniac career before my wealth was expended. It was my good fortune to secure the services of a distinguished and skillful physician. He was a benevolent and universally esteemed Quaker. His attention was not only constant, but soothing and parental. His earnest and tender tones often made me weep. When I recovered, I resolved to amend my life. This friend had applied a healing balm to my aching heart. I determined to prosecute my profession, and before a year elapsed my exertions began to be crowned with success.
“I was a frequent attendant at the lectures, and on terms of the closest intimacy with the professors. Indeed, I had a prospect of a professorship myself. I devoted my attention particularly to the anatomical department of my studies, which I preferred; and it was in this department of the institution that I would probably be installed in a few months. The gentleman who occupied that chair was about to resign, and, being my friend, used his influence to procure my election.
“My medical friend invited me one evening to be present at a dissection, which promised to be one of extreme interest. He described the subject as one that had elicited the admiration of the class. He said it was a female of perfect proportions, but who had recently been an inmate of a brothel of the lowest description. She had, in a state of beastly inebriation, fallen into the fire. Yet, with the exception of a small but fatal orifice in the side, her form and features remained unaltered. I consented to meet him at the hour appointed, and made my arrangements accordingly.
“That evening there were many more persons in the dissecting-room than usual. I had now become much more cheerful, and enjoyed the frank greetings of my many friends with a relish and an ardour that had hitherto been unknown to me. Many flippant remarks and careless observations were exchanged in relation to the business before us. We had become accustomed to such scenes, and habit had rendered us callous to the reflections and impressions generally produced when gazing upon the cold lineaments of the dead. Dissection was an indispensable act. It had been resorted to under the deliberate conviction that it was necessary to the perfection of science, and in a great degree redounded to the welfare and preservation of the living. To us the pale inanimate limbs, and the attenuated, insensible bodies of the dead brought no disagreeable sensations. We cut and sawed them with the same composed indifference with which the sculptor hews the marble.
“‘This is a beautiful subject we have to-night, Glenn,’ observed one of my friends, as we approached the dead body. He then threw up the white cloth, and exposed the corpse, the head being still obscured. A breathless silence reigned, while all gazed at the lifeless form in admiration. She was a perfect Venus! Not having been wasted and shrivelled by disease, the symmetry of her lineaments was preserved in all the exactness of life and health. Her bust was full, plump, and the skin of the most exquisite whiteness, except where it had been marred by the fire that caused her death. Her limbs surpassed any model I had ever beheld, round and tapering, smooth and white as ivory. Her ankles were most admirably turned, and her feet of the smallest dimensions. Her handsome and gently swelling arms were covered with a slight gauze of short, dark hair, through which the snowy whiteness of her skin was displayed to greater advantage. Her hands were extremely delicate, and indicated that she had been accustomed to ease and luxury.
“I was requested to open her breast and exhibit to the students the formation and functions of the heart. She was lying on her back, on a long narrow table, around which the students stood gazing at her fair proportions. Some reflected in sorrow that so beautiful and lovely a being should die and be conveyed to the dissecting-room; while others joked and laughed in a light unfeeling manner. When about to make an incision with the sharp glittering steel in my hand, for the first time since I had graduated, I confessed that my nerves were too much affected by the sight of the subject to proceed, and I begged my friends to be patient a few minutes, during which I would doubtless regain my accustomed composure.
“‘What was her name?’ I inquired of the friend who had accosted me on my entrance.
“‘Haven’t you heard?’ said he, smiling—‘I thought you all knew her. Nearly every person in the city has heard of her, for she was the most celebrated and notorious “fallen angel” in the city—celebrated for her unrivalled beauty and many triumphs, and notorious for her heartless deceit and reckless disregard of her own welfare. She has led captive many an unguarded swain by a passing smile in the street, and then unceremoniously deserted him to join some drunken and beastly party in an obscure and degraded alley.’
“‘Her name—what was her name?’ I again asked, once more taking up the knife, my nerves sufficiently braced by the above recital.