Every one shuddered, and many turned pale at this speech, seeming to fear that Edric was about to put his suggestions into execution; whilst the judge seemed posed, and in vast perplexity as to what he had better determine;--and the people were dreadfully afraid, lest they might, after all, lose the edifying spectacle of of an _auto-da-fé_, for which they had been so impatiently longing. Edric marked the hesitation of the judge, and endeavoured to improve it to his own advantage.--"For my part," continued he, "I am a British subject, and as such, under the protection of my own Court; my Sovereign has a consul here, and to him I make my appeal. I am neither ignoble, nor unknown in my own country,--my name is Montagu, and I am brother to the celebrated general of that family,--whose victories, no doubt, have reached even this remote province!" "My dear Mr. Montagu!" said the judge, "I really beg your pardon: why did you not acquaint me sooner with your dignity? I dare say there is no truth at all in the charge:--only assure me upon your honour that you did not touch the mummy, and that you know nothing of what is become of it at present, and I will instantly order you to be set at liberty." "I certainly do not know what is become of it," replied Edric. "But--" "No!" interrupted Dr. Entwerfen, coming forward with the air of a determined martyr, "I will not suffer such equivocation.--I would rather perish at the stake, than disavow, for a moment, my opinions, or betray the sacred interests of science with which I feel I am entrusted. No, Sir! my pupil cannot make the public declaration you require. I know he would not--and he cannot if he would;--on the contrary, I avow the fact. We came here for the express purpose of endeavouring to resuscitate the mummy of Cheops, and I glory in the proud thought that we have succeeded." (A groan of horror.) "Yes, Sir, I do not hesitate to avow openly, that the grand object of my life, for several successive years, has been to detect in what consisted the strange, inexplicable secret of life. We live, Sir, we die: we are born, and we are buried: we know that time, sickness, or violence, may kill us; but who can say in what the mysterious principle of life consists? Various theories have been broached, with which, no doubt, a gentleman of your intelligence and extensive information is well acquainted;--and life has been successively stated to depend upon the heart, the brain, the circulation of the blood, and the respiration of the lungs. All, however, are fallacious; the heart has been wounded, and the brain has been removed, and yet the patient has lived, whilst the operations of respiration and circulation have been kept up for hours, in a body from which the vital spirit had departed. Weighing all these and divers other arguments in my mind, it has struck me, and indeed I may say, that after mature deliberation, I have confidently arrived at the conclusion, that both the faculties which we call