“Of the 70 chemical elements or ultimate simples, known to man, 15 are found in the human body. Of these, four—carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen—are derived from the air, and in combustion, as in decay, they return to the air again. These four in their various compounds make up by far the greater part of the animal tissues. Of the remaining 11 chemical elements, six are metals,—potassium, sodium, calcium, magnesium, iron, and manganese; and five are non-metals,—sulphur, phosphorus, chlorine, fluorine, and silicon. When combustion of the tissues is completed, the six metals, in combination with the five non-metals last named, are left behind in the ash. These were drawn from the earth. There are about 19 chemical compounds in the ash so left, compounds such as phosphate of lime, carbonate of lime, sulphate of potash, chloride of sodium, etc. The greater number of the ultimate elements contained in the living body are left behind in the ash, but the proportional quantity made up by all these elements is, of course, very small. In the first place, about two-thirds of the tissues consist of water. The proportion of the ‘ash’ to the tissues varies from two per cent in muscle and seven-tenths per cent in blood, to 66 per cent in bone. The ‘ash’ left by combustion is very nearly the same, in kind and in quantity, as the ‘dust’ left after the final completion of decay.” What is decomposition? How does it take place normally? Decomposition is the decay of an organic substance, which is completely destroyed through the influence of the atmospheric oxygen. Decomposition is facilitated by moisture. The organic mass undergoing such change assumes a different color and consistency and gives up carbonic acid, ammonia, and water; the same products originate in the rapid destruction of an organic substance by means of fire. Only those parts of the body (the bones) that can best resist the influence of the air remain secure from decay a longer time; at last they also crumble into dust and mingle with the rest. Wetness accelerates decay. When we hear the rain fall in the silent night, we are compelled to think, shuddering, how the horrible process of destruction begins in the grave of some beloved one whom we have recently buried. The same stench that assails our nostrils when we approach a corpse that has lain a long time above ground, meets us when we open a grave; the same poisonous gases are evolved under ground from a decaying corpus as upon the surface of the earth. It makes no difference whether the grave we explore be that of a prime minister, upon which a magnificent monument rears its costly shaft high into the air, or that of a common criminal who tried to enjoy existence by spending three-quarters of his lifetime in prison; the result remains the same: in each we find the disgusting and sickening evidence of slow destruction,—a formless, putrid mass of flesh, and sometimes numberless revelling worms.