68 Original. ON DEATH. BY L. M. LAWSON, M. D. DEATH. DEATH is the cessation of life. This definition, however, explains nothing beyond what is evident to the senses; and, as we attempt to unvail the process by which vitality is severed from its earthly associations, we seek not to lay sacrilegious hands upon holy and forbidden ground, but rather, to be the invited copyist in the great natural world. Every species of organic matter, vegetable and animal, has a specific period of existence; in other words, peculiar laws sui generis in each instance govern and control the powers of life for a given period, when, through weakened energy, either by natural limitation or accidental violence, vitality becoming inadequate to sustain the failing system, death assumes control. the same causes continue to operate, that the human race would become extinct in less than five hundred years from the present time, and should now be rapidly diminishing instead of increasing. Opposed to all this, however, is the plain declaration of the Volume of Inspiration, which to most persons will be conclusive evidence. Buffon estimates, that one-fourth part of the human race die before the end of five years; one-third before ten; one-half before thirty-five; two-thirds before fiftytwo, and three-fourths before sixty-one. The mean period of the life of a child of three years is thirtythree-of an adult of twenty-one nearly the same. The age of sixty-six has equal chances with an infant. He estimates the most fatal periods at appearance of the teeth, puberty, twenty-one, twenty-eight, forty-five, and sixty-one. We Death from old age is with difficulty explained. We distinguish two primary modes of death, acci- may turn to the various mechanical powers and comdental and senile; the latter signifies death from old binations to exhibit analogies illustrative of man's age, the former from accident. Contrary to what might decay-the action of wheel upon wheel, until by nabe presumed to follow the harmonious laws of nature, tural friction they cease to occupy their original space, few individuals die from natural or senile causes. In- and the failing power is followed by cessation of moferences drawn from the most accurate statistics exhibit tion, is a feeble and imperfect figure when applied to the solemn truth, that not more than one-tenth part of the decay of animal life. True, the human organizathe human family reach that period to which the uninter- tion is to a limited extent influenced by physical laws; rupted laws of vitality might extend. but these are all modified and held in beautiful subordination by the vital principle, until that period arrives when Providence terminates life. During adolescence, the vital principle maintains the ascendency, and the system is increased and perfected, until physical organization is completed. From this period to about the fiftieth year, the mental and physical powers undergo many and important changes. Curiosity and activity of observation, so peculiar to youth, begin to mellow down in the more sombre shades of advancing years; and although the intellectual operations are prompt and energetic, and with an improved judgment subduing early passions, yet memory and If permitted to progress to a natural termination, the life of man would embrace about the Scripture period of "three-score and ten;" some, however, suppose that many circumstances combine to justify the belief, that a much greater time was never extended to any nation. True, say they, occasional individuals have greatly surpassed these limits. Thomas Parr, born in 1635, lived to the age of one hundred and fifty-two, and married at the mature age of one hundred and twenty. St. Patrick lived to the age of one hundred and twentytwo; Henry Jenkins, one hundred and sixty-nine; St. Mongah, one hundred and eighty-five. These, how ever, are individual peculiarities, and by no means illus-imagination begin to fail, and change the mental contrative of nationality. Dr. Parr advances the opinion that prior to the deluge, one object of the Mosaic narrative was to preserve the genealogy of the children of Israel from Adam down, and successions of families or dynasties may have been represented as individuals. There has been no apparent change in the constitution of the globe, certainly none adequate to effect so material an abridgment of human life, and nothing to correspond with this change has been observed in inferior animals. stitution. The circulation during this period is reduced in force, but acquires regularity; and the development of animal heat is sensibly diminished. A desire and necessity for repose and sleep become manifest, and consequently the ability to sustain corporeal fatigue is greatly lessened. When the meridian of life is passed, the beauty and harmony of laws that regulate the period of growth suffer a material change; the absorbing vessels gain the ascendency, and the system wastes. A general, but gradual, and almost imperceptible diminution of vital energies, follows impaired nutrition; and, while the intellectual powers may glow with much fervor, the physical frame is rapidly passing down the vale of time. After the fiftieth year has been passed, all these phenomena are very remarkably augmented; and, while the external and visible signs are accumulating, inter It is further argued, that if the term of man's existence has been diminished, it has occurred through the agency of natural causes; indeed, these are supposed to be numerous and potent, each directing an insidious but certain blow at the fated object, and achieving something towards the given end. If five thousand years ago human life extended to seven hundred years, whereas now it counts but seventy, there is of course but one-nal causes are operating to effect such changes. tenth part the period now there was then. Taking this as the basis of the calculation it will be found, should It was remarked in an article on LIFE, that in the lungs the blood undergoes important and vital changes, ease, defective nutrition, effects of poisons, intense cold, mental emotions, or mechanical violence, the result is the same. The aid of the skillful physician consists in remedying an attack of the vital organs, or in preventing their invasion by remote disease. Apoplexy is the term applied to death of the brain. Destruction of the cerebral organ-the seat of sensation, motion, and volition-occasions universal death, by annihilating respiration, and thereby the sensibility and contraction of the heart. capacitating it to sustain vitality; and that when this || whether we recognize the intervention of ordinary disfunction was materially interrupted, the brain was immediately impressed by the morbid change, and deleterious effects, proportioned to the intensity of the cause, followed. In old age the action of the heart is enfeebled, and blood is not duly forced into the minute vessels; the consequence is, that the capillary system of the lungs, whose office is to transmit the circulating fluids for exposure to the air, contract in diameter, and exclude much that should be admitted. The brain is evidently that organ which immediately sustains the vital powers, and whatever impairs its integrity, reduces The most vital part of the human system is a portion in the same ratio animal life. Then, the impure cur- of cerebral matter about half an inch square, intermerent of blood, which passes the lungs without due oxy-diate between the brain and spinal marrow, denominagenization, poisons the brain and nervous system, and ted medulla oblongata, which is emphatically the "link rapidly reduces the energies of the entire body. Every function becomes impaired. The muscular power and contractibility become enfeebled, the superincumbent weight is imperfectly supported, and the body yielding to the laws of gravitation bows to the earth, as if already seeking an assimilation with its native elements. The external senses, particularly sight and hearing, are greatly blunted-observation and imagination become positively weak; but the retention of a good judgment renders the circumscribed intellectual operations still comparatively perfect. The shadows of evening are now gathering around the path-way of the time-worn traveler. He beholds himself a scathed monument of decaying mortality. The cool zephyrs that fan his whitened locks, are the same balmy winds that met him in joyous youth. Yonder bright star that meets his dim vision, is the same shining orb that threw its sparkling rays upon his young life; and the burning light of day, is the same luminary that shone on his juvenile sports. But O! how changed the scene! While these remain the same, || his own bright eye is dimmed-his cheeks are pale, and deep furrows mark the sinking frame-the nerves and muscles, that bore him onward as the agile deer, respond not to his tardy will, and the decrepid old man leans upon a wooden staff for support! The contractile power of the heart becomes slow and feeble, the blood is thrown imperfectly to the extremities-its temperature, and that of the entire body, is rapidly lowered-the warm blood of life cools as the stagnant pool-the vital spark, like the dying taper, glows an instant in the last struggle, sinks and burns again, as though aroused by renewed effort the lungs expand not-the heart ceases to beat-the brain is inanimate-and the man is dead! It is thus in man that a separation of the physical and spiritual relations occurs, and in the lower animals, the extinction of a more circumscribed association. We next treat of accidental death. The immediate destructive process in accidental death commences either at the lungs, the heart, or the brain. When one of these vital organs is at once invaded, death is sudden; but when disease attacks remote parts, the case may be protracted and lingering, but ultimately destroys life by interrupting respiration, circulation, or innervation. All men die by one of these modes, and that binds us to life." The slightest injury of this part, mechanically or by apoplectic effusion, would at once extinguish life. Pressure of other portions of the brain, however, produces apoplectic stupor, but are less speedily fatal. Cold-blooded animals possess great tenacity of life; and if there is a separation of the head from the body, that part in which the medulla oblongata is left, will retain sensation for the longest period. Thus, if the head is cut off so as to retain this vital part, it will evidence life longer than the body; but if it is left with the latter, then will the head die first. These facts account for serpents retaining life after decapitation, and even being capable of inflicting a wound. In man consciousness does not exist, as some supposed, in the head after separation from the body. In the case of a criminal reported by Professor Bischoff, the countenance was examined immediately after the separation of the head, when all the features were observed to be tranquil without the slightest trace of pain or distortion. This criminal had confidently anticipated pardon, but upon the word "pardon" being shouted in his ear, not the slightest emotion was manifest. Violent mental emotions, and electricity, instantly and permanently extinguish life, by producing cerebral palsy. Narcotic poisons, as the woorara, opium, and others, act directly on the brain, and in large doses destroy life, unless speedily counteracted. The circulation of black blood in the brain is another cause of death. This process, however, commences in the lungs, and the brain suffers in consequence of the impure current sent to it from the pulmonary organs. This condition has been termed asphyxia, or death commencing in the respiratory system. This, however, is not strictly true, because death does not occur in consequence of depriving the lungs of any thing essential to their existence; but by destroying respiration venous blood is thrown to the brain, and there displays its noxious powers. Asphyxia is witnessed in death by drowning, hanging, inhalation of poisonous gases, inflammation and congestion of the lungs. It is characterized in ordinary cases by difficult respiration, violet color of the face, lips and nails, stupor, insensibility, cessation of the action of the heart, and death. As a general rule, if 70 WOMAN'S REVENGE. black blood has circulated in the brain for the space of five minutes, recovery is impossible. But if in case of syncope an individual fall into water, he may remain much longer and yet recover, because circulation ceased first, and black blood did not circulate. Syncope is death commencing at the heart. In this instance the circulation is at once arrested, every part of the system is deprived of that indispensable stimulus, and the consequence is, general and complete death. Syncope, however, is not always necessarily fatal; indeed, in its milder forms, it is of common occurrence, and as frequently only produces temporary inconvenience. In bleeding, for example, fainting often occurs, yet death does not follow that simple operation. Fatal syncope, however, may follow great loss of blood, violent pain, mental emotions, and certain impressions on the organs of sight and smell. The heart, erroneously supposed at former periods, and still referred to as the seat of the affections, is the great centre of circulation; and a suspension of that power is at once followed by a cessation of all the vital functions, and vitality itself. Although death may commence at the lungs, heart or brain, yet a close analysis of the subject exhibits the fact, that the brain is intrinsically the organ upon which the destructive influences are finally spent. Thus in asphyxia, black blood poisons and paralyzes the cerebral organs; while in syncope the brain is deprived of all blood, which is instantly followed by complete loss of nervous power. Death, then, is the result of exhaustion, or suppression of nervous energy. the heart is comparatively tranquil. In all these instances, we perceive that the action on the brain is the cause of death. The conclusion, therefore, follows, that in articulo mortis all feeling is lost, and not the slightest physical sensation can be experienced. Excessive pain is often endured during the progress of disease; but when that point has been attained, which is to loose the Gordian knot, the brain has been so completely destroyed, as a necessary pre-requisite to produce death, that no sensation can be appreciated. Thus ends life. After having struggled through the pain and turmoil of the first existence, and endured the pangs of a last conflict, the kind hand of Providence draws a narcotic mantle over the writhing body, an euthanasia spreads a last sleep upon the sinking frame, and all is still in DEATH. WOMAN'S REVENGE. SOME philosophers would give a sex to revenge, and appropriate it almost exclusively to the female mind. But, like most other vices, it is of both genders; yet, because wounded vanity, or slighted love, are the two most powerful excitements to revenge, it is thought, perhaps, to rage with more violence in the female heart. But as the causes of this passion are not confined to the women, so neither are its effects. History can produce many Syllas, to one Fulvia, or Christina. The fact perhaps is, that the human heart in both sexes, will more readily pardon injuries than insults, particularly if they appear to arise, not from any wish in the offender to degrade us, but to aggrandize himself. Margaret Lambrun assumed a man's habit, and came to England from the other side of the Tweed, determined to assassinate Queen Elizabeth. She was urged to this from When death has taken place in vital organs, those of minor importance next catenate in the dying series, until the entire body is a lifeless mass. Vitality having left the system, it is at once deprived of the preserving influences of organic forces, and is of necessity imme-the double malice of revenge, excited by the loss of her diately placed under the control of physical laws. The signs of death, it would seem, are terribly plain, yet they are not always certain. They are divided into the deceptive, the probable, and the certain. The deceptive are cessation of motion, absence of exhalation from the lungs, fixed eye, paleness and coldness. The probable include rigidity of the limbs, opacity and sinking of the eye, and partial gangrene. The only certain sign is absolute putrefaction. With regard to the pain of death, or that which precedes it, no general positions can be assumed. When the brain is originally implicated, and death is produced by apoplexy, all sensation being destroyed, it cannot possibly be connected with pain. In asphyxia, when brought on gradually by a combination of causes, the greatest amount of agony is inflicted which we are capable of suffering-I say agony, because pain does not compass its horrors. No sensation can equal the terrible struggle attending suffocation. True, sudden asphyxia prevents continued suffering, but the pain is equally intense, though less protracted. In syncope, painful sensations are experienced in the first stage of the process; but an entire cessation of sensibility so speedily follows, that death commencing at mistress, Queen Mary, and that of her husband, who died from grief at the death of his queen. In attempt. ing to get close to Elizabeth, she dropped one of her pistols; and on being seized, and brought before the queen, she boldly avowed her motives, and added, that she found herself necessitated, by experience, to prove the truth of that maxim, that neither force nor reason can hinder a woman from revenge, when she is impelled by love. The queen set an example that few kings would have followed, for she magnanimously forgave the criminal; and thus took the noblest mode of convincing her, that there were some injuries that even a woman could forgive.-Lacon. PLEASURE is to women what the sun is to the flower: if moderately enjoyed, it beautifies, it refreshes, and it improves; if immoderately, it withers, etiolates, and destroys. But the duties of domestic life, exercised as they must be in retirement, and calling forth all the sensibilities of the female, are perhaps as necessary to the full development of her charms, as the shade and the shower are to the rose, confirming its beauty, and increasing its fragrance. THE CHARMS AND USES OF CHARITY. 71 THE CHARMS AND USES OF CHARITY. is brought into possession of divine life, (or a new life,) On the 13th chapter of 1st Corinthians; by Dr. Tholuck, of through an internal and joyous emotion of the heart, Halle. Translated from the German by Rev. A. Miller. WHO has such an exalted mind, and such a happy faculty, as to be able to tell us what charity is? If I were to call her a dew, I would only have set forth her reviving influence; if I were to call her a star, I would only have represented her gracefulness; if I were to compare her with a storm, I would only have illustrated her irresistible influence; if I were to call her a sunbeam, I would only have described her celestial beauty. If I were to say she was begotten in the inmost laboratory of the heart, when the aspiration from on high is united with the life-blood of the new man, the breath of the soul, I would still not have given the full idea, for I would merely have told what she was in herself, and not what she is to others. If I were to compare her with the prismatic colors, reflected by the drops of pure water through which the sun-beams pass, even then I would not have given her true character; as she is not so much an object of vision, as something that may be tasted and enjoyed in the inmost chambers of the human heart. Who is endowed with gift to tell what charity is? She is a flame which many waters cannot quench, and the floods cannot drown. Yes, she is a flame-a silent light and pure, which first cleanses, enlightens, and warms the heart in which she has taken up her abode, and then enwraps the hearts of others in her blaze; and the more she enkindles, warms, and enlightens others, the brighter she will burn in her own habitation. She possesses the wonderful power to open to every creature a door by which a communion may be kept up between man and his fellow. Yea, much more-she opens a door through which the Creator may approach the creature-through which the everlasting God may enter and take up his abode. Take away charity! Alas, how solitary and lonely does all creation appear! How mute and motionless, with only some faint murmurings passing from sky to earth, and through all the ranks of being; for it is from her alone that inclinations to union from different parts of existence proceed, and she is a living, breathing melody in every creature. O who can describe the melody, when all creatures flow together in songs of charity! Thus the apostle, when dwelling in his exalted strain on charity, spake correctly when he represented a man having all knowledge and all faith, yet destitute of charity, as a brass which only gives a hollow sound; or at most only a tinkling cymbol, which has no life in the sound. Provided therefore it were possible for one, as the apostle says, without charity to have the gift of prophecy, and to understand all mysteries, and to remove mountains, and to bestow all his goods to feed the poor,|| yet all such rare virtues would only be like the visage of a beautiful person, upon whom is seen the paleness of death without a soul. Since, then, it is charity* alone through which man *Hore charity is put for faith, or the proposition is unscriptural. it cannot be otherwise than that such an one who has "She suffereth long and is kind," extending to every one a degree of that long-suffering kindness of which she is herself a subject. She also comes to the rebellious, not with the fiery language of "the voice of one crying in the wilderness," proclaiming that the axe is laid at the root of the tree; but with the gracious zeal of the Savior, who came to seek and to save that which was lost. "Charity envieth not"-inasmuch as our gracious benefactor does not envy us, but daily offers himself to us with all the treasures of his grace and glory. Also where it may appear that a bounteous Providence has too profusely lavished his favors upon those who never offer up their thanks to their Benefactor, charity envieth them not; but resolves rather to wait the hour when they shall be brought to reflection. "She vaunteth not herself; is not puffed up"-whereas our gracious Redeemer, notwithstanding he might have assumed an exalted station among his sinful creatures, yet chose to dwell among us in the form of a servant, condescending to visit the poor and the needy. Therefore, if her gifts are ever so exalted, yet she will always delight to dwell with the lowly. "She does not behave herself unseemly "-that is, she never forgets the obligations she is under to others, where she can impart whatever of good she has in herself; much more recognizing in others what they have already received, and is therefore that principle of courtesy teaching us never to forget the honors that are due to rank, and talent, and virtue. "She seeketh not her own"-as also her gracious Author did not seek his own in this poor world, having inscribed on every act, “It is more blessed to give than to receive." "She is not easily provoked; thinketh no evil"-for notwithstanding all her sweetness is recompensed with wrongs, her sweetness will not be changed into bitterness, and she will only seek to reform the evil-doer; and this as far as possible so as not to injure the sinner || raise an obstruction in the heart; and when there shall himself, but would much more rejoice to see her bitter- be a free, intimate intercourse between heaven and est foes crowned with honors, and supplied with plenty, earth! if by the exhibition of such long-suffering kindness they may be led to repentance. "She rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth"--because she is herself so richly possessed of that light which comes from above, and from which all truth and righteousness among men proceed, as in this light being received by others, spreading itself in all directions she has an abiding joy; like the divine Savior who rejoiced at the faith of the woman of Cana, and the centurian of Capernaum: having a discernment so illuminated as to be able to distinguish between light and darkness, yet in darkness discovering some rays of light, which are hid from an obscure vision. "She beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things"-that is, inasmuch as she only seeks the good of her neighbor, she is active and efficient wherever her aid is required. In fine, charity unites him that loves, and him that is loved; and is it not the fulfillment of that law which bids us "do to others as we would they should do to us.” As there is no marriage union, at least such as God has pronounced his blessing upon, where one would not do for another what they would do for themselves, the two being one flesh; so also is he whose sou! is filled with love to God-in every man he beholds his own flesh, and therefore labors and does for others what he does for himself. Charity is greater than faith and hope, says the apostle; for beyond the bounds where faith and hope can go, charity will remain. All the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven are now only viewed as through a darkened glass; and all our knowledge is but in part, and of this we have no assurance but by faith. But the apostle speaks of a time when we shall know God even as we are known of him, from face to face: then, as we shall know the origin and being of all things, faith must come to an end. And again, as the sacred Scriptures have united faith with hope, as it fixes itself upon future objects, and especially on what we shall be ourselves; so when all shall be present, and time itself shall have passed away into eternity, hope with it must also pass away. But charity, which is nothing else than the door through which God enters the heart of man, and man becomes united with his fellow, never passeth away. This door in time was only a narrow gate, which even did not always stand open, but was frequently closed by some adverse winds; but it shall in eternity become a wide door, which shall stand open day and night. No storm of wind shall close it, and the soul shall have free course in her communion with| God and the saints. O, has charity already made us so rich in this world, if it even has only been a faint brook which many a time, under the rays of a scorching sun, would almost become evaporated? How rich, then, will she make us when the small brook shall have become a stream, yea, an ocean; when in a full torrent from God the stream shall flow, and sin no more Original. INFANCY. "Gaze on-'tis lovely! childhood's lip and cheek, WHO thus can look upon the infant brow And not feel strong emotion stir within? If interest vast, in God's own cunning work We ever feel-if in the babbling brook And waving tree we read his wisdom deep; How, when on this fair miniature of man, Transfixed by quiet sleep, we fondly gaze, Can we feel aught but wonder, at the Power That gave it thus, all glorious as it is, Into our charge to fashion for the heavens? As gazing on its fair and peaceful brow, We forward look when he his part shall act Upon the world's great stage-the babe a man. He in the smiles of fortune then may bask, And by the wise may fondly be caressed, Or from the great win well deserved applauseHe in that tiny hand the varying scale Of empires yet may strongly, proudly hold; And his now feeble, wailing voice may give Mandates which shall unsheath the vengeful sword Of nations outraged by tyrannic power. And may this wee thing thus in coming years? Then be it ours to wrap and cherish it, Till it can climb the rugged Alpine heights, And stand among their everlasting snowsUpon the mounts of old Jerusalem, The hills of famed Judea trace its way— Or on the arid plains of Afric's waste, Or by the Ganges' darkly rolling flood, Or o'er the islands of far southern seas, Its feet, obedient to God's will, may stray. But look again-and think, as parents oft, SALINDA. |