What happens, then, when a subject is injected with one of these two salts? They remain exposed to the thermometric and hygrometric variations of the air, and should undergo one of the following transformations; or rather, submitted to the action of a dry and free air, they rapidly dry; or preserved in a close and humid place, they become emaciated, blackened, and covered with mouldiness, without, however, experiencing putrid fermentation; they decompose like skin or tanned leather enclosed in a humid place, or beneath the earth. These transformations experienced by bodies thus prepared, were an obstacle to the application of my process to embalming. There remained for me, then, an ulterior series of observations in order to prevent these unfavourable results. _It was necessary to discover a method of preserving bodies always fresh, with the appearance of sleep, in the state in which they exist immediately after death. It was necessary that the preservation should be indefinitely prolonged; that is to say, that the embalming be such a one that it would allow a dead body to be preserved in all its integrity, without mutilation, without incisions, and fit for dissection at will at all possible epochs._ Have I fulfilled these conditions? Let the facts answer. _First observation._--In the month of February, 1836, at the request of Dr. Petigard, I embalmed the body of the son of M. Dupré, architect, living in Cerisarie street, No. 13. This child, aged about twelve years, was interred in the cemetery of Père la Chaise. During the construction of the monument, which the father caused to be erected to him, some of his friends excited doubts as to the efficacy of my method of preservation. Wounded in his affections, M. Dupré conceived suspicions which he communicated to Dr. Petigard, expressing the desire for the exhumation of the body. He advised me of this, but numerous occupations prevented me giving it immediate attention; he attributed my delay to hesitation, to the fear I had of seeing my promises made to the relatives contradicted, and, as he has since avowed, expressed himself without reserve on my account. Finally, the opening of the coffin was made in the month of July, 1837; when the unfortunate father, feeling revive all his grief at the sight of his son, whom he found exactly in the state in which he was at the moment of inhumation, regretting, besides, his suspicions of me, embraced me with effusion, and gave me every proof of his lively gratitude. “Your hesitation,” he remarked, “made me fear that I had been deceived, under which persuasion I have undoubtedly prejudiced several persons against you, but I will repair the fault in telling the truth.” Here is one fact which may appear of some value, and that which follows is none the less conclusive.