Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune, June 22, 1873, Page 6

Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune dated June 22, 1873 Page 6
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6 PHYSIOLOGY OF DEATH. The Phenomena, of Dissolu tion —Flourens’ Vital Knot. . Activities of Which the Corpse Is Capable—lnteresting Ex periments. The Process of Putrefaction —Imita- tions of Death —Prema- ture Burials. llott to Know Apparent from Real Death—Destiny of the Psychi cal Principles. FZENAXD PAHLLON (IK THE “ EZYUE DE9 DEUX MOKDES ”), YBATSLATED PBOM TSB FBEMCH BV A. B. MACDOKOUOH. Of old, the spoils of death fell to the anato mist’s share, while the physiologist took for his part the phenomena of life. Now we submit the corpse to the same experiments as the living or ganism, and pry into the relics of death for the secrete of life. Instead of seeing in the lifeless body mere forms ready to dissolve and vanish, we detect in it forces and persisting activities full of deep instruct!voneas in their mode of working. As theologians and moralists exhort us to study the spectre of death face to face at times, and strengthen our souls by courageous meditation on our last hour, so medicine regards it as essential to direct onr attention toward all the details of that mournful drama, and thus to lead ns, through gloom and shadows, to a clearer knowledge of life. But it is only with respect to medicine in the most modem days that this is true. Leibnitz, who held profound and admirable theories of life, had one of death also, which ho has unfolded in a famous letter to Axnauld. Ho believes that generation is only the development and evolution of an animal already existing in form, and that corruption or death is only the re-envelopment or involution of the same animal, which does not cease to subsist and continue living. The sum of vital energies, cousubstan tial with monads, does not vary in the world; generation and death are but changes in tho or der and adjustment of the principles of vitality, simple transformations from small to groat, and vice versa. In other words, Leibnitz sees every where eternal and incorruptible germs of life, which neither perish at all nor begin. What does begin and perish is the organic machine of which these germs compose the original astivity: the elementaiy gearing of the machine la broken apart, but not destroyed. This la the earlier view held by Leibnitz. He has another, con ceiving of generation as a progress of life through degrees; ho can conceive of death also aa a gradual regress of the same principle, that Is to say, that in death life withdraws little by little, just as it came forward little by little in generation. Death is no sudden phenome non, nor instantaneous evanishing—it is a slow operation, a “retrogradation,” as the Hanove rian philospher phrases it. When death shows to ns, it has been a long time wearing away the or ganism, though we have not perceived it, be cause “ dissolution at first attacks parts invisi bly small.” Yea. death, before it betrays itself to*the eye by livid pallor, io the touch by marble coldness, before chaining the movements and stiffening the blood of the dying person, creeps with insidioas secresy into the smallest and most hidden points cf hia organa and his humors. Here it begins to corrupt the fluid, to disorgan ize the tissues, to destroy the equipoise and en danger the harmony. This process is more or leas lingering and deceitful, and, when wo note the manifest signs of death, wo maybe sore that the work lacked no deliberate preparation. These ideas of Leibnitz, like most of tho con ceptions of genius, waited long after tho time of thoir appearance for confirmation by demonstra tive experiment. Before his day, bodies were dissected only for tho sake of studying in them the conformation and normal arrangement of the organs. When this study was once completed, science took up the methodical inquiry into the changes produced in the different parts of the bodv by diseases. . Not until the end of tho eighteenth century did death in action become the subject of investigation by Bichat. Bichat is the greatest of the physiological his torians of death. The famous work he has left on this subject, his “ Physiological Researches upon Life and Death,” is aa noteworthy for the grandeur of its general ideas, and its beauty of ftvle, as for its precision of facts and nicety of experiment. To this day it remains the richest mine of recorded truths aa to the physiology of d'ath. Having determined the fact that life is seriously endangered only by alterations _ in one of the three essential ’ organs, the brain, the heart, and the lungs, a group forming the vital tripoo, Bichat examines how the death of one of these three organs assures that of the others, and in succession tho gradual stoppage of all the functions. Xu our day, the advance of experi mental physiology In the path go succesafuly tra versed by ‘Bichat. has brought to light in their minutest details the various mechanical process es of death, and, what Is of far greater conse quence, has disclosed an entire order of activi ties heretofore only suspected to be at work in the corpse. The theory of death has been built up by flow degrees along with that of life, and eeveralpractical cuestions that had remained in & state cf. uncertainty, such as that of the signs of real deith, have received tho most decisive answer in tie course of these researches. Bichat point® out .that the complete life of animal* 18 made of two orders of phenomena, those of circnlatio* and nutrition, and those that fix the rolationa of h© living being with its en vironment. He disfajgoighofl organic life from animal life, properly stalled. Vegetables hare only the former; apunjg possess both, inti mately blended, how, « the occurrence of death, these two sorts of <jo not disappear at one and the same moma* jt is the animal life that suffers the first strok. the most mani fest activities of the nervous system are those winch come to a halt before rest How is this stoppage brought about? xy e mtl g fc con . sider separately the order of j n death from old age. in. that occasi'^ e d by di case, and in sudden death. 3 The man who expires at the close of to o ne de cline in years, dies in detail. AU his aw 8 t fl j n succession ore sealed. Sight becomes aD( j j unsteady, and at last loses the picture of Hearing grows gradually insensible to soma-* Touch is blunted into dullness, odors produ-i but a weak impression, only taste lingers a lifr tie. At the same time that the organs of tion waste and loss their excitability, tfio func tions of the brain fade out little by little. Imag ination becomes unfixed, memory nearly fails, Judgment wavers. Further, motions are slow . and difficult on account of stiffness in the muscles; the voice breaks; in short, ail the - functions of outward life lose their spring. Each of the bonds attaching the c*d man to existence parts by slow degrees. Y«t the internal life persists. - • Nutrition still takes place, but very soon the forces desert the most essential organs. Digestion languishes, the secretions dry up, capillary circulation is clogged: that of the large vessels in their turn is checked, and, sc last, the heart’s contractions cease. This is tie instant of death. The heart is the last thing to die. Snch is the series of alow and partlu deaths which, with the old man spared by disease, remit in. the last end of all. The individual who falls into the sleep of eterni ty in these conditions, dies like the vegetable which, having no consciousness of life, can have no consciousness of death. H<* passes insensi bly from oao to the other, and to die thus is to know no pain. The thought of the last hour ftin-rms os only because it puts a sudden end to our relations with all our surroundings; but, if fo-pHng if these relations has long ago faded there can be no place for fear at the brink f/ U? e grave. The animal does not tremble in the instant brf’ore it leases to be. - death of ibis kind is very rare Jor Death from old ago has become an ertr-jrdmaiy phenomenon. Most commonly we sucenmb to a diatarhanco in the ftmotione of Tin Vital syctem, which la sometimes sadden nit?times gradual. In this tw». m the for /iret.'m, we observe nf o diaappearinn citelv vitho 1“ conclusion arblnfl. through tSt, ° ne of 4110 most usnal is death p m S a > a® a result of pneulhonia and different forms of- phthisis, the oxidation of the blood becoming impossible on account of the disorganization of the pulmonary globules, ve nous blood goes back to the heart without gaining' revivification. In the case of serious and pro longed fevers, and of infectious diseases, whether epidemic or otherwise, which are, characteristic ally j blood-poisonings, death occurs through a; general change in nutrition. This is still more; the fact as to death consequent upon tain chronic disorders of tho digestive organs. When these are affected, the secretion of those, juices fitted to dissolve food dries np, and those fluids go through tho intestinal canal unem ployed. In this case the invalid dies of real starvation. Hemorrhage is one of the common est causes of death. Whenever a great artery is opened from any cause, permitting tho copious outflow of blood, the elan grows p&le, warmth declines, the breathing is intermittent, vertigo find dimness of sight follow, the expression of the features changes, cold and clammy sweat covers part of the face and the limbs, the pulse gets gradually weaker, and at last the heart stops. Virgil describes hemorrhage with striking fidelity in the story of Dido's death. . Sudden death, unconnected with outward and accidental causes, may occur in various ways. Very violent impressions on the feelings some times abruptly check the movements of the heart, and produce a mortal swoon. Instances are well known of many persons dying of joy—Leo X. is one—and of persona who suc cumbed to fear. In foudroyant apoplexy, if real death is not instantaneous, there is at least the sudden occurrence of the phenomena of death. The sufferer is plunged in profound sleep, called by physicians coma, from which wakening is im possible : his breathing is difficult, his ©yes sot. his mouth twisted and distorted. The pulsa tions of the heart cease little by little, -tfnd soon life utterly vanishes. The breaking of an aneur ism very often occasions sudden death. Not less often the cause of death is found in what is called an embolism, that is, a check of the cir culation by a clot of blood suddenly plugging up seme important vessel. And there ire also cases of sudden death still unaccounted for, in the sense that subsequent dissection discovers noth ing that could explain the stoppage in the opera tions of life. Death is usually preceded by a group of phe nomena that has received the name of the death agony. In most cases of disease the beginning of this concluding period is marked by a sudden improvement of the functions. It is the lost gleam springing from the dying flame ; but soon the eyes become fixed and insensible to the ac tion of light,the nose grows pointed and cold, the mouth, wide open, seems to call for the air that fads it, the cavity within it is parched, and the lips, as if withered, cling to the curves of the teeth. The last movements of respiration are spasmodic, and a wheezing, and sometimes a marked gurgling sound, may be heard at some distance, caused by obstruction of the bronchial tubes with a quantity of muous. Tho breath is cold, the temperature of the skin lowered. If the heart is examined; wo note tho.woakening of its sounds and pulsations. The hand, placed in its neighborhood, feels no throb. Such is the physiognomy of a person in the last moments of death in the greater number of cases, that is, when death follows upon a period of illness of some duration. The death-struggle is seldom painful, and almost always the patient feels nothingof .it. He Is plunged into a comatose stupor, so that ho is no longer conscious of his situation or his sufferings, and ho passes in sensibly from life to death, in a manner that renders it sometimes difficult to fix the exact instant at which a dying person expires. This is true, at least, in chronic maladies, and especially in those that consume the human body slowly and silently. .Yet, when the hour of death oomos for ardent organizations,—for great artists, for instance, and jLhoy usually die young, —there is a quick and sublime new burst of life in the creative gening. There la no bettor ex ample of this than the angelic end of Beethoven, who, before ho breathed out his soul, that tune ful monad, regained his locit speech and hearing, and spent them in repeating for the last time some of those sweet harmonies which he called his “Prayers to God.” Some diseases, moreover, are most peculiarly marked by the gentleness of the dy ing agony. Of all the ills that cheat us while killing by pin-pricks, consumption is that which longest wears for us the illusive look of health, and best conceals the misery of living and the horrors of dying. Nothing can be compared with that hallucination of the senses and that liveliness of hope which mark tho last days of the consumptive. Ho takes the burning of his destroying fever for a healthful symptom ; he forms his plans, and smiles calmly and cheer fully on his friends, and suddenly, some mor row of a quiet night, he falls into the sleep that never wakes. If life is everywhere, and if, consequently, death occurs everywhere, in all the elements or tho system, what muot bo thought of that point in the spinal marrow which a famous phys iologist styled tho vital knot, and in which b* profaned to lodge the principle of life itself? The point which hlourcns re garded as this vital knot is situated nearly at the middle of the prolonged spinal cord—that is, tho middle of that portion of tho nerve-sub stance which connects the brain with the spinal marrow. This region, in fact, has a fine and dangerous excitability. A prick, or the penetra tion of a needle into it, is enough to'cauaothe instant death of any animal whatever. It is the very means used in physiological laboratories to destroy life swiftly and surely in dogs. That susceptibility is explained in the most natural way.. This spot is the starting-point of the nerv’s that go to the lungs; the moment that the slightest injury is produced in it, there fol lows a chock on the movements of respiration, and ensuing death. This vital knot of I'lourena enjoys no sort of special prerogative. Life is not more concentrated nor more essential In it than elsewhere; it simply coincides with the initial point of nerves animating one of the or gans indispensible to vitality, tho organ of san guification; and in living organisms any alter ation of tho nerves controlling a function brings a serious risk as to its complete perform ance. There is, therefore, no such thing as a vital knot, a central fire of life in animals. They are collections of an infinity of infinitely * small living creatures, and each one of these micro scopic living points is its own life-centre for itself. Each on its own account grows, produces heat, and displays those characteristic activities which depend upon its structure. Each one, by virtue of a pre-established harmony, meets all the rest in the ways that they require; but, just as each lives on its own account, so on its own account each dies. Aud the proof thatthis is so is found in the fact that certain parts taken from a dead body can be transferred to a living one with out suffering any interruption in their physiolog ical activity, aud in the fact that many organs which seem dead can be excited anew, awakened out of their torpor, and animated to extremely remarkable vital manifestations. This subject we now proceed to consider. Death seems to be absolnte from the instant that the pulsations of the heart are stopped without renewal, because, the circulation of the blood no longer proceeding, the nutrition of the organs becomes impossible, and nutrition is de manded for the maintenance of physiological harmony; but, as wo have said above, there are a thousand little springs in the organism which keep up a certain degree of activity after the groat main-spring has ceased to act. There is an infinite number of partial energies that out live the destruction of the principal energy, and withdraw only by slow degrees. In cases of sud den death especially the tissues keep their pecu liar vitality a very long time. In the first place, 1 the heat declines only quite slowly, and the more 1 so in proportion as death has been quick. For ' several hours after death the hair of the head ! \nd body, and the nails, continue to grow, nor ®*es absorption either stop at once. Even diges t°°» keeps on. The experiment performed to test this is very curious. Ho the idea of making a crow oat acer t^ n Of food, and killing it immediately f - in a place kepi pt the Ba« e temperature os that of a live bird, and opeme it* six hours later. The food was thoroughly Rested.' , Besides general manifestations, the dead body is capable, eome continued time, of ™ d “ of activity. It is not easy to study these on tht bodies of persons dying of sickness, because t* t y are not permitted to make the subject of examinations until twentv-four hours aftt< death; but the bodies of beheaded criminals, which are given up to ™°® entß after their execution, of what taken i ■topping of the liv- H heart k uncovered a few PJ'ls&h’ms are remarked C , OU .I U ? 0 f' “2?s a “ boaT ot longer, at the »le of forty to fortv-hvo a mraut., even after the removal of the liver, the stomach, and the intestines. For several hours the muscles re tain their excitability, and undergo reflex con tractions from the effect of pinching, it. Robin noted the following phenomenon in the case of s criminal an hour after his elocution; “The right arm.” to quote his description, “being placed Obliquely extended at the aide of the trunk, with the hand about ten inches away from the hip. I scratched the skin of the chest, at about the height of the nipple, with the point of a scalpeL over a spaoe of nearly four inches, without making any pressure on the muscles lying beneath. TV© immediately saw the great • muscle, then the biceps, then the ante v tio* brachial, successively and quickly contract. THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE; SUNDAY, JUNE 23, 1873. The result was a movement of. approach of the whole arm toward the trank,- -with rotation in ward of the limb/andhalf flexion of the fore arm npon the arm, a true defensive movement, which throw the hand forward toward the chest as-far as the pit of the stomach.” These spontaneous exhibitions of life in a corpse are trifles compared with those excited by means of certain stimulants, particularly of elec tricity. Aldini, in 1802, subjected two criminals, beheaded at Bologna, to the action of a powerful battery. Influenced by the current, the facial xunscloscontracted, producing the effect of horrid grimaces. All the limbs were seized with con vulsive movements ; the bodies seemed to feel the stir of resurrection, and to make efforts to rise/ The springe of the system retained the power of answering the electric stimulus for sev eral hours after beheading. A few years later, at Glasgow, TJre made some equally noted ex periments on the body of a criminal that had re mained more than an hour hanging on the gal lows. One of the poles of a battery of 700 pairs having boon connected with the spinal marrow below the nape of the neck, and the other brought in contact with the heel, the leg, be fore bent hack on itself, was throat violently forward, - almost throwing down one of the assistants, who had hard workto keep it in place. When one of the poles was placed on the seventh rib, and the other on one of the nerves of the neck, the cheat rose and fell, and the abdomen repeated the like movement, as takes place in respiration. On touching a nerve of the eye brow at the same time with the head, the facial muscles contracted. 11 Wrath, terror, despair, anguish, and frightful grins blended in horrible expression on the assassin's countenance.” The most remarkable instance of a momentary reappearance of vital properties, not in the whole organism, but in the bead elone, is the famous experiment suggested by Legallols, and carried out for the first time in 1853 by H. Brown-Sequard. This skillful physiologist be heads a dog, taking pains to make the section below the point at which the vertebral arteries enter their bony sheath. Ton minutes afterward he sends the galvanic current into the different parts of the head thus severed from its body, without producing any result of movement. He then fits to the four arteries, the extremities of which appear in the cutting of the nock, little pipes connected by tubes witn a reservoir full of fresh oxygenated blood, and guides the injection of this bloodintothe vessels of the brain. Immediately irregular motions of the eyes and the facial muscles occur, succeeded by the appearance of regular harmonious con tractions, seeming to be prompted by the will. The head has regained life. The motions con tinue to be performed daring a quarter of an hour, while the injection of blood Into the cere bral arteries lasts. On stopping the injection, the motions cease, and give place to the spasms of agony, and then to death. Pyhsiologista asked whether such a momenta ry resurrection of the functions of life might not be brought about in the human subject—that is, whether movement might not bo excited and ex pression reanimated by Injecting fresh blood into a head just severed from a man v s body, aa in M. Brown-Sequard's experiment. It was suggested to try it on the heads of decapitated criminals, but anatomical observations, particularly those of M. Charles Robin, showed that the arteries of the nock are cut by the guillotine in such a way that air penetrates and fills them. It follows that it is Impracticable to inject them with blood that can produce the effect noted by M. Brown-Sequard. Indeed, we know that blood circulating in the vessels becomes frothy on con tact with air, and loses fitness for its functions. M. Robin supposes that the experiment in ques tion could be successful only if made upon the head of a man killed by a baU that should strike below the nock; in that case it would bo poa- 1 Bible to effect such a section of the arteries that no entrance of air would occur, and, if the head were separated at the place pointed out by il. Brown-Sequard, those manifestations of func tion remarked in the dog's head would probably he obtained by the injection of oxygenated blood. M. Brown-Sequard is convinced that they might bo obtained, if certain precautions were observed, even with the head of a decapitated criminal; and so strong is his conviction, that, when it was proposed to him to try the experiment,—that is, to perform the in jection of blood into the head of a person exe cuted,-—he refused to do so, not choosing, aa he said, to witness the tortures of this fragment of a being recalled for an instant to sensibility and life, we understand M. Brown-Soquard’i sern- I pies, but it is allowable to doubt whether he ! would have inflicted great suffering on the head of the subj act; at moat, ho would only have aroused in it a degree of very dim and uncertain sensibility. This is easily explained. In life, the slightest perturbation in the cerebral circu lation is enough to prevent thought and sensa tion utterly. Now, if a few drops of blood too much or too little in tbs brain of an ani mal in full health suffice to alter the regularity of its psychical manifestations, much more certainly will the completeness of the brain’s action ho deranged if it is awakened by an injection of foreign blood, a forcible entry too, which, of necessity, cannot cause the blood to circulate with suitable pressure and equipoise. Corpse-like rigidity is one of tbe most charac teristic phenomena of death. This is a general hardening of the muscles, so great that they lose the property of extension till even the joints cannot be bent: this phenomenon begins some hours after death. The muscles of the lower jaw are the first to stiffen; then rigidity invades m succession the abdominal muscles, those of the neck, and at last the thoracic ones. This hardening takes place through the coagulation of the half-mud albuminoid matter which composes the muscular fibres, as the solidification of the blood results from coagulation of its fibrins. After a few hours the coagulated muscnline grows fluid again, rigidity passes away, and the muscles relax. Something not dissimilar takes place also in the blood. The globules change, lose shape, and suffer the beginning of dissociation. The agents of putrefaction, vibrios and bacteria, thus enter npon their great work by insidiously brooking up the least seen parts. At last, when partial revivals are no longer possible, when the last flicker of life has gone out and corpso-liko rigidity has ceased, a new work begins. The living germs that had col lected on the surface of the body and in the di gestive canal develop, multiply, pierce into all the points of the organism, and produce In it a complete separation of the tissues and humors; this is putrefaction. The moment of its ap pearance varies with the causes of death and the degree of outward temperature. When death is the result of a putrid malady, putrefaction begins almost immediately when the body has grown cold. It is the same when the atmosphere is warm. In general, in our climates, the work of decomposition be comes evident alter from thirty-eight to forty hours. Its first effects are noticeable on the skin of the stomach; this takes on a green ish discoloration, wliich soon spreads and covers successively the whole surface of the body. At tbe same time the moist parte, tbe eye, the in side of the mouth, soften and decay; then the cadaverous odor is gradually developed, at first faint and slightly fetid, a mouldy smell, then a pungent and ammoniac&l stench. Little by lit tle the flesh sinks in and grows watery; the or gans cease to be distinguishable. Everything is seized upon by what is termed putridity. If the tissues are examined under the microscope at this moment, wo no longer recognize any of the anatomical elements of which the organic fabric is made up in its normal state. “ Our flesh,” Bossuet exclaims in his funeral sermon on Hen rietta of England, “ soon changes its nature, our body takes another name; even that of a corpse, used because it still exhibits something of the human figure, does not long remain with it. It becomes a thing without a shape, which in every language is without a ijamo.” When structure has wholly disappeared, notliing more remains but a mixture of saline, fat, and proieio matters, which are either dissolved and carried away by water, or slowly burned up by the air’s oxygen, and transmuted into new products, and the whole substance of the'body*" except the skeleton, returns piecemeal to the earth whence it came forth. Thns the ingredients of our or gans, the chemical elements of our bodies, turn to mud and dust again. From this mud and this dust issue unceasingly now life and energetic activity: but a clay fit for the commonest uses may ifeo be got from it, and, in the words of Shakspo are's Hamlet, the dust of Alexander or C»sarmay plug the vent of a beor-caek, or “ stop a hole to keep the wind away.” Those u base uses.” of which the Prince of Denmark speaks to Horatio, mark the extreme limits of tbe transformation of matter. In any case the beings of lowest order that toil and engender in the bosom of putre faction are really absorbing and storing away life, since without their aid the corpse could not servo as nutriment to plants, which in their turn are the necessary reservoir whence animality draws its sap and strength. It is in this sense that Buffon’s doctrine of organic molecules is a true one Death ia the necessary end of all organic ex istence, TVe may hope more or less to sot at a distance its inevitable hour, bat it would bo mad ness to dream of its indefinite postponement in any species whatsoever. No doubt there ia no contradiction in conceiving of a perfect equili brium between assimilation and disaeaimilation, such that the system would be maintained in immortal health. In any case, no ono has yet oven gained a glimpse of the modes of realizing such an equilibrium, and death continues till further orders, a fixed law of Tate. Still, though immortality for a complete organism seems chimerical, perhaps it is not the Isame ..with ~ the .immortality ,of a . sepa rate oigan in the sense wo now explain. Wo , have already, alluded to the experi ments of hi. Paul Bert on animal-grafting. He has proved that; on the head of a rat, certain or gans of. the same animal— &a the tail, for in stance—may be grafted. And this physiologist asks himself the question, whether it would not be possible, when a* rat provided with each an ! appendage draws near the close of his existence, j to remove the appendage from him, and trans plant it to a young animal, which in hia turn would be deprived of the ornament in-the same way in Ms old age in favor of some specimen of a new generation, and so on in succession. This tail, transplanted in regular course to young animals, and imbibing at each transference blood full of vitality, perpetually renewed, yet ever remaining the same, would thus escape death. The experiment, delicate and difficult, as we shall see, was yet undertaken by 51. Bert, but circum stances did not allow it to bo prolonged for any considerable time, and the fact of the perpe tuity of an organ, periodically rejuvenated, re mains to be demonstrated. Real death, then, is characterized by the posi tivec eaaing of vital properties and functions both in the organic or vegetable life, and in the animal life, proporlv so termed. When animal life dis appears without any interruption occurring in organ life, the system is in a state of seeming death. In this state the body is possessed by profound sloop quite similar to that of hibernat ing animals; all the usual expressions and all signs of internal activity have disappeared, and give place to invincible torpor . The most pow erful chemical stimulants exert no control over the organs, the walls of the chest are motion less ; in short, seeing the body presenting this appearance, it is impossible not to think of it as dead. There are quite numerous states of the or ganism which may thus imitate death more or loss closely; the commonest one is that of faint ing. In tniß case neither sensation nor move ments of circulation or respiration are any longer perceptible; the warmth is lowered, the skin pallid and colorless. Instances of hysteria are cited in which the attack has been prolonged for several day*, attended with fainting. In this strange condition all physiological manifestations remain suspended ; yet they are not, as it was long supposed, suspended absolutely. M. Benches* has proved that, in the gravest cases of fainting, the pulsations of the heart continue, weaker and rarer, and harder to be heard than in normal life, but clearly distinguishable when the earls laid upon the preconhol region. On the other hand, the muscles retain their supple ness and the limbs their pliability. Asphyxia, which is properly suspension of breathing, and consequently of the blood's re vivification, sometimes passes into a serious fainting condition followed by seeming death, from which the sufferer recovers after a period of varying length. This state may be induced either by drowning or by inhaling a gas unfit for respiration, such as carbonic acid in deep walls, emanations from latrines, or the choke-damp of mines, or by suffocation. In 1850 a woman named Ann Green was bagged at Oxford. She had been hanging'for ualf an hour, and several people, to shorten Buffering, had pulled her by the feet wi*n all their strength. After sho was placed in her coffin it was observed that sho etui breathed. The executioner’s assistants at tempted to end her existence, but, thanks to the help of physicians, she came back to life, and continued to live some time afterward. Drown ing occasions an equally deep insensibility, dur ing which, very singularly, the psychical faculties retain some degree of activity. Sailors, after timely resuscitation from drowning, declare that, while under water, they had returned in thought to their families, and sadly fancied the grief about to be caused by their death. After a row minutes of physical rest, they suffered vio lent colic of tho heart, which seemed to twist itself about in their chests; afterward this anguish was followed by utter annihilation of consciousness. It is very difficult, moreover, to determine how long apparent death may be pro tracted in an organism under water. It varies greatly with temperaments. In tho islands of the Greek Archipelago, where the business of gathering sponges from the bot tom of the sea is pursued, children are not al lowed to drink wine until, by practice, they have grown accustomed to remain a certain time un der water. Old divers of the archipelago say that the time to return and take breath at the surface is indicated to them by painful convulsions of the limbs, and very se vere 'contractions In the region of the heart. This power of enduring asphyxia for some time, and resisting by force of will tho movements of respiration, has been remarked under other circumstances. Tho case of a Hin doo is mentioned, who used to creep into the palisaded enclosures used for bathing, in the Ganges, by the ladles of Calcutta, seize one of them by the legs, drown her, and rob bor of her rings. It was supposed that a crocodile carried her off. One of ms intended victims succeeding in escaping, tho assassin was seized and exe cuted in 1817. He confessed that ho had prac tised the horrible business for seven years. Another instance is that of a spy, who, seeing preparations making for his execution, endeav ored to escape it by feigning death. He hold hia breath, and suspended all voluntary motions for twelve hours, and endured all the tests applied to him to put the reality of his death beyond doubt. Anesthetics, too, like chloroform and ether, sometimes produce stronger effects than the surgeons using them desire, and occasion a state of seeming death instead of temporary insensibility. It is easy to recall persona to life who are in a state of seeming death; it is only needful to stimulate powerfully the two mechanical systems that are more or loss completely suspended in action, namely those of respiration and circula tion. Such movements are communicated to the frame of the chest, that tho lungs are alternately compressed and dilated. A sort of shampooing

is applied over the whole body, which restores tho capillary circulation; chemical stimulants, such as ammonia or acetic acid, are brought under the patient's nostrils. This is the mode of treatment for drowned persons, whose con dition is brought on by ceasing to breathe the air, not by taking in too much water. Avery effective method in cases of apparent death, caused by inhaling a poisonous gas, such as car bonic acid or sulphuretted hydrogen, consists in making the patient draw in large quantities of pure oxygen. And, again, it has very lately been proposed, as Halle suggested without suc cess early in this century, to adopt the use of strong electric currents for stimulating move ment in persons who are in a state of svneope. In all the cases of seeming death we have just mentioned, one mark of vitality persistently re mains, that is, pulsation 6f the heart. Its throbs are less strong and frequent, but they continue perceptible on auscultation. They are regularly discernible in the deepest fainting-fits, in the various binds of asphyxia, in poisonings by the moat violent narcotics, in hysteria, in the torpor of epilopey, in short, in tho most diverse and protracted states of lethargy and seeming death. Yet, this result, now » practical certainty, was unknown to physicians of old, and it cannot be denied tha;, m former times, seeming death was quite often mistaken for true death. The annals of science have recorded a certain number o! errors of this kind, many of which hare resulted in the interment of unfortunate . wretches who wore not dead. And for one of these mistakes that chance has brought to light either too late, or in time for tie rescue, even then, of the victim, how many are there, particularly in times of ignorance end carelessness, that no one has ever known 1 How many live men have only given up thou last breath after a vain struggle to break ou; of their coffin! The facts collected by Brnhiir and Lollemand in two works that have bsiomo classic compose a most mournful and dranatic history. These are some of its episodes,marked by the strange part that chance plays in taem. A rural guard, having no family, dies in a Ittle village of Lower Charento. Hard ly grown sold, his body is taken out of bed, and laid one straw ticking covered with a coarse cloth. . in old hired woman is charged with the watch ov»r the bod of death. At the foot of the oorpse vere a branch of box, put into a vessel filed with holy water, and a lighted taper,, Howard midnight tho old watcher, yielding to the invincible need of sleep, fell in-o a deep slumber. Two hours later she awoke surrounded by flames from afire that aad caught her clothes. She rushed out, crying with all her might for help, and the neighbors running together at her screams, saw in a moment a naked, spectre issue from the hut, limping tad hobbling on limbs. covered with burns. While the old woman slept, a spark bad probably dopped on the straw bed, and the fire it kindled bad . aroused .both the watcher from her sleep md the guard from his seeming death. With timdy assistance he recovered from his burns,.ancgrew sound and well again. On the sth of October, 1812, a farmer in the neighborhood of Neufohatel. in the Lower Seine, climbed ino a loft, over bis bam to sleep, as he usually did among the hay. Early the next day, bis customary hour of rising being past, his wife, vinbing to know the cause of bis delay, weit to look for him, and found him dead. At the time of interment, more than iwent;-four hours after, the bearers placed the body ina coffin, which was closed, ana car ried it slowy down the ladder by which they had gained the oft. Suddenly one of the rounds of the ladder mapped, and the bearers fell with the coffin, whici burst open with the shock. The accident, wlich might have been fatal to a live man, was viry serviceable to the dead one, who was roused .from his lethargy_by the concussion, returned to life, and hastened to got out of his abroad with the assistance of those of the by standers who had not been frightened away by his sudden resurrection An hour later ho could recognize his friends, aud felt no uneasiness ex cept a slight confusion in his head, and the next day he was able to go to work again. At about the same time a resident of Nantes gave up life after a long illness. His heirs made arrange ments for a grand funeral, aud, while the per formance of a requiem was going on, the dead man returned to life and stirred in the coffin, that stood in the : middle of the church. When carried home, ho soon regained his health. Some time afterward, the cure, not caring to be at the trouble of the burial ceremo nies for nothing, sent a bill to the ex-corpso, who declined to pay it, and referred the core to the heirs who had given orders for the funeral. A lawsuit followed, with which the papers of the day kept the public greatly amused. A few vears ago Cardinal Donnofc, in the Senate, told his own story of the circumstances under which he narrowly escaped being buried alive. Besides these instances of premature burial in which the victim escaped the fearful conse quences of the mistake made, others may bo cited in which the blunder was discovered only too late. Quite a number of such cases are known, some of which are told with details too romantic to entitle them to implicit belief, while, however, many of them show unques tionable signs of authenticity. There long pre vailed a tradition, not easily traceable to any source, which attributed the death of the Abbe Provost 10 a mistake of this kind. All his biographers relate that the famous author of “ Manon Loscaut,” falling senseless from the ef fect of a rush of blood, in the heart of the forest of Chantilly, was supposed to bo dead ; that the surgeon of the village having made an incision into bis stomach, by direction of the Magistrate, to ascertain the cause of death, Prevoat uttered a cry, and did then die in earnest. But it has since been proved that the story is Imaginary, and that it was made up after Provost’s death ; nor do any of the necrological accounts, publish ed at the time, refer it to tbo consequences of a premature autopsy. Though the account of Prevoat dissected alive seems doubtful, that is not the cose with the story told with regard to an operation by the famous accoucheur, Philip Small. A woman, about to bo confined, foil into a state of seeming death. Small relates that when ho was summoned to perform the Cesarean operation, the by-standers, convinced that the woman was dead, urged him to proceed with it. f, I supposed so, too,” he says, "for I felt no pulse in the region of the heart, and a glass held over her face showed no sign of respiration.” Then he plunged hia knife into the body, and was cutting among the bleeding tissues, when the subject awoke from her lethargy. We cite some still more startling instances. Thirty years ago, a resident of the village of Byrnes, in Dordogne, had been suffering for a long lime from a chronic disorder of little con sequence in itself, but marked by the distressing symptom of constant wakefulness, which forbade the patient any kind of rest. Worn out with this condition, he consulted a doctor, who prescribed opium, advising great caution in its use. The invalid, possessed with that common-enough no tion that the efficacy of a drug is proportioned to its quantity, took at one time a dose sufficient for several days. He soon fell into a deep sleep, which cuuilxrieu unbroken for more than twenty four hours. The village doctor, being summon ed, finds the body without warmth, the pulse extinct, and, on opening the veins of both arms in succession, obtains but a low drops of thick blood. The day after, they prepared for his burial. But, a few days later, olosor inquiry revealed the imprudence the poor wretch had committed in taking an excessive quantity of the proscribed narcotic. The report spreading among the villagers, they insist on disinterment, which is allowed. Gathering ina crowd at the cemetery, they take np the coffin, open it, and are mot by a Horrible sight. The miserable man had turned over in his coffin, the blood gushing from tho two opened veins had soaked the shroud ; hia features were frightfully contorted, and his convulsed limbs boro witness to tho cruel anguish that hod preceded death. Most of tho facts of this kind aro of rather remote date. The latest instances have happened in tho coun try, among uu ignorant population, usually in neighborhoods where no physician was called on to ascertain tho disease, that is, to distinguish the cases of seeming death from those of true death. How, then, can wo certainly know apparent from real death ? There is a certain number of positive signs of death ; that is to say. signs which, when absolutely discerned, leave no room for mistake. Yet some physicians, and many people who know nothing of science, are still so doubtful about tho certainty of these signs os to wish that physiology could detect others of a moro positive character. A zealous philanthro pist, quite lately, gave a sum for a prize of 20,000 francs to tho discoverer of an infallible sign of death. Doubtless, the intention is excel lent, but wo are safo henceforward in regarding the sexton’s work without alarm; tho signs al ready known are clear enough to prevent any mistake, and to make tho fatal risk of premature burial impossible. We must point out, in the first place, tho im mediate signs of death. Tho first, and the most decisive, is the absolute stoppage of the heart’s pulsations, noted for a duration of at least five minutes, not by tho touch, but by the ear. “Death is certain,” says tho reporter of tho commission named In 18i8, by tho Academy of Sciences, to award the prize of competition as to the signs of true death, “ when positive ces sation of pulsations of heart in the subject has been ascertained, which is immediately followed, if it has not been preceded, by cessation of respiration, and of functions of sensation and motion.” The remote signs equally deserve at tention. Of those, throe aro recognized: corpso liko rigidity, resistance to the action of galvanic corrects, and putrefaction. As we have already seen, rigidity does not begin until several hours after death, while general and complete disap pearance of muscular contractility, under tho stimulus of currents, and, last of all, putrefac tion, are only manifest at a still later period. Those remote signs, particularly tho last, have this advantage, that they may be ascertained by those un&cquamcd with-medicino, and it is very well to pay some attention to them in countries where physicians aro not charged with tho veri fication of tho disease, but they ore of no impor tance wherever there aro doctors to examine tho heart with instruments, and to decide promptly and surely upon tho death, from the complete stoppage of pulsation in that organ. At the be ginning of the century, Hofeland, and several other physicians, convinced that all the signs of death then known wore uncertain, except putre faction, proposed and obtained, in Germany, tho establishment of a certain number of mortu- ary bouses, intended to received, and keep for some time, the bodies of deceased persons. During tho whole existence of these establish- ments, not ono of the bodies transported into those asylums has been known to return to life, os tho authentic declarations of tho attendant doctors agree. The usefulness of such mortu ary houses is still more questionable in our time, when we have a positive and certain means of recognizing real death. Those police regulations that forbid autopsies and inter ments until tho full term of delay for twenty-four hours, measured from the dec- laration of death, still remain prudent pre cautions, but they do not lessen at all the cer- tainty of that evidence f urniabod bv the stopping of the heart. When the heart has definitely ceased to boat, then resurrection is no longer possible, and the life which deserts it is prepar ing to enter upon a now cycle. Hamlet, in hia famous soliloquy, speaks of “ that undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns,” and mournfully asks, what must be the dreams of the man to whom death has opened the portals of those gloomy regions. We can give no clearer answer, m the name of physiology, than Shakspoare’s prince gives. Physiology is dumb as to tho destiny of the soul after death ; of that it teaches, and it can teach ua, nothing. It is plain, and it would be child ish to deny it, that any psychical or sentient man ifestation, and any concrete representation of the personality, are impossible after death. The dis solution of tho organism annihilates surely, and of necessity, the functions of sensation, motion, and will, which aro inseparable from a cor- tain combination of material conditions. can feel, move, and will, only so far as wo have organs for reception, transmission, and eiocn tioii. Those assurances of science are above dis cussion, and should bo accepted without reserve. Dothoytollusauything of the destiny of the psy chical principles themselves ? Again we say, No, and for the very simple reason that science does not attain to those principles; but metaphysics, which docs attain to them, authorizes us, nay, further, compels us, to believe tbat they are im mortal. They aro immortal, as the principles of motion t the principles of perception, all the ac tive unities of the world, are immortal. What is the general characteristic of those unities 2 It is that of being simple, which means being indestructible, which means being in harmonious mutual connection, after such a manner that each one of them perceives tho infinite order of the other. If this connection did not ex ist, there would be no world. What is the characteristic of the psychi cal unities more especially ? It is that of having, besides the consciousness of such perception, the feeling also of the relations which bind the whole together, and those facul ties, more or less developed, which that con sciousness and that perception imply. But why should these unities be any more perishable than, the others all. these, forces, all these activities, are eternal, should those alone not possess eternity which have this high privi lege, that of knowing the infinite relations which the others sub tain, without knowing thai they do so? . .... To form a conception of the immortality of the soul, then, we most place.ourselves at that point of view to which men rarely and hardly rise, of the simplicity and indefectibllity of: all those principles .of force that fill the universe. Wo must train ourselves to understand that what we see is nothing in comparison with what wo do not eoo. The whole force, the whole spring,, of the most complex movements, the moot magnificent phenomena of Nature, and the most subtle operations of life, thought in cluded, proceed from the infinite commingung of an infinity of series of invisible and unextended principles, whose activities ascend in the scale of perfection from simple power of movement up to supreme reason. Human personality such as we see and know it, is only a coarse ana com plex result from those of these primitive activi ties which are the best and deepest thing in us. It is not that personality which is immortal— that is no moro immortal than the motive force of a steam* engine is, or the electricity of a vol taic battery, although movement and electricity are of themselves indestructible. It io not that personality which can aspire to a home in the Bosom of God. Our true personality, our real /, that which may without illusion count on a future life, is unity released from every material bond, and all concrete alloy ; it is that force, necessarily pure, which has a more or leas clear consciousness of its own relations with the , infinity of like unities, and which more or less draws near to them by thought and by love. It is beyond our power to conceive what will be come of that unity when, quitting its prison of flesh, and soaring into the ideal ether, It will no longer have organs with which to act; bat what we can affirm is that, precisely by reason of this freedom, it will rise to’ a clearer knowledge of all that it had only known obscurely, and to a purer love of what ft had adored only through the veil of sense. And this certainty, which is the en nobling and elevating force of life, is also the consolation for death. —Popular Science Monthly . PHASES OF LIFE. u Sie transit gloria mundi. ’* What is life 7 “A fleeting shadow Cast upon the track of Time But its sure experience teaches Many a truth, profound, sublime. We are all poor, erring creatures. Guided by each Impulse weak. Striving ever for some object In the distance which we seek; Far and farther still receding. Still wo follow In its flight. Discontented, restless ever. Standing in each other's light. Once attained, some other phantom. Mocking, lores us on its way; Wild excitement, restless craving, Track our footsteps day by day. Livers still go rushing by us; Busy crowds go hurrying on; Sunlight smiles, yet hearts in anguish Break, and u brokenly live on.” Fools, we dive Into the future. Fancy 'tis before ns stretched ; But the things therein enshrouded Human eye hath never reached. Philosophers, thro ’ years of Study, Time’s great mystery ne’er have solved. Yet we, in our erring blindness, All its actions have resolved. ** Life’s a dream, and man’s a shadow Thrown upon a boisterous sea,” And our longest spans but seezneth Atoms In eternity. Such it Is, and snob the lesson That it teaches day by day; Mortals all pursuing visions. Dreaming thus their years away, Earthly things are false, unreal; Fairest faces only hide Hearts corrupt with meanest passions. Insincerity and pride. We should all have self-reliance, Interested, selfish, vain. Is the world, for, if it serves us, Double it expects to gain. Misers hoard up golden treasures; Others to ambition bend; Each at something striving, grasping, Heedless of their certain end. In the bride now at the altar. In her robes of virgin white; She, In words of solemn meaning, . Vows of love and truth doth plight. Early hope so fondly cherished In that hour Beams all fulfilled; Yet, could she the future gaze on, Soul and feeling would be chilled. Like the flowers in Spring-time-blowing. Summer sees them faded lie; They set forth a fair example,— “ Bloom to-day, to-morrow die. r Next behold a funeral passing ; Ask who is the victim now; Last year's bride, —the cypress mingled In the blossoms on her brow. Look upon that baby-cherub Smiling in a mother’s face; She with life-long love is waiching Every witching, dawning grace; Boon, alas I thlips grow livid. Cheeks have lost their rosy hue. Eyes have loet their laughing brightness* Death hath stolen that sweet bud too; Mother’s heart is wildly throbbing, Throbbing with a yearning, For the little “ bird of passage,” Gone ne’er to return again. Tho’ long years, with lengthened shadow. Pass, a bitter fruit they’ll bear, — Vacant seat and missing footsteps Pattering down the nursery-stair. Death alone we can but count on ; See, it hovers by our door; At its portals we are standing; One brief struggle—all la o’er. Then before us, panoramic, Spoctre-like, come forms aghast. Shaped in all the faults and follies Of a stern recording post. And there is an oye that catches, In one scrutinizing look, Years misspent, without & harvest. Like some foul, ill-written book. All our thoughts, and words, and actions, There are viewed with earnestness ; Cowering at the Throne of Justice, We can offer no redress. Let us, then, with hearts unsullied. Conscience clear, look up to God ; Patient, boar with wrong and insult,—* Tread the steps the Savior trod. We could scatter joy around us, Sweet as dew upon the rose ; Heal the heart in sorrow pining, Dry the tear of grief that flows. Words of kindness, gently uttered, Teem with hope, like Noah’s dove, * And, for erring sinful mortals, Gild a path to Heaven above. Earth might be one scene of sunshine Were it not for sin’s dark blight. Crystal streams are murmuring music, Flowers are blooming, skies are bright; Look Into the glorious starlight,— Peaceful smiles the vault of Heaven; Every knee should bend to worship Him who thus such gifts hath given. Wander forth into the meadow; Take the tiniest floweret there, Look at its minute perfection, God hath formed its petals fair. Fair and spotless as that floweret He created every heart, But in some unguarded moment, Sin hath claimed tho better part. There the seed hath grown and flourished Into sins of darkest dye, To come forth a deadly harvest When the hour of death is nigh, * Oh J the bright, the blissful futuro In that realm beyond the skies ] Ob! the happy, blest reunion With tho loved we’ll realize, If we gently bow,—not murmur; “ Bear the cross and win the crown Tread with footstep firm, unahrinkingv' Every petty grievance down; * If well only lore each other, And temptation ever fly, As it is for man appointed. Once, and only once, to die. Charity and truth but study; Faults in others meekly chide ; Holy angels then will steer us Safely to the other side, Ttlie Sthest, Chicago, One TPay of JLirin? at Newport* A Newport correspondent writes: “On the 20th of June tho Cliff Cottage Hotel opens, un der tho proprietorship of 31r., Hodge,, formerly of the Aquidneck House. Hia method of living, started two years since as an experiment, has proved a groat success. Tho colony comprises a small hotel, eight pretty furnished cottages, and handsome grounds; the location on the cliff of the sea. You hire a cottage for the* season, you name your hours for your meals, and open your dining-room door to find them on the table. Your cottage has no kitchen, you never hear of a cook, but your food appears mysteriously four times a day, smoking hot. 'With each cottage yon get a servant, who attends to your wants. A femme de chambro comes from the big house and while you are at breakfast puts vour chan> hers to rights, and the grounds are well kept, without even an order being given. Keying’s Opium Test* When Keying was sent down, almost with a Viceroy’s power, from Pekin to Canton, to in vestigate tho opium smuggling, he began by in vestigating the lives of tho Chinese merchants. It is said that he invited all tho importers to a magnificent dinner; and they attended it with great joy, greatly honored at tho invitation. But when it came time to go home, they were polite ly informed that they were to spend the night with their host. This was the civil wav of finding out how many of then* conH live without smoking opium. The next morning they found that they were still kept in his palace for another /estival. Nor when tho next night came were they Released. Before long one after another surrendered. Though every man of them knew that to confess that ho was an opium-eater or opium-smoker was to sign hia own death warrant, still, one by one, the poor wretches had to give in. They begged the Viceroy to give them their opium, even if it were for the last. .time.. And so, before manv days, he had proved to his own satisfaction b? their own confession, that moat of bis own countrymen who were engaged in foreign trade were themselves the victims of the appetite which his Government was trving to snnpress The storv shows what happens when people wl not complete control of their aopotue Fair Cleopatra V'aa locked up a’ter a Disastrous defeat of Mark Antony, Twaa a biting aspect to her, But a biting asp spake to her: " Of the bite I indict there mark ain’t anv n 1 ork Graphic . 3 ' iiUJXOB. Sweet Homo—A bee-hive. —Mr. Bailey of Danbury, says: -“I do not lecture myself; I am married.” • An B , a y a: “ Some men aro born for » J * ES C ea^a thß Boston Bulletin but they don t all coma up to tha scratch." ' —Query—Can a geological clergyman with a collection of ores, etc., bo called a cabinet minister? —An lowa paper remarks that “ Our readers needn’t try to get any points oat of our political articles; we put ’em in this week because our g|teat medicine stereotypes have been mia —A young lady in Greenville, Term., recently presented her lover with an elaborately-con structed pen-wiper, and was astonished, the fol lowing Sunday, to sea him wearing it as a cravat. —A pretentious hypocrite who was in the habit of praying so vociferously that his neighbors and persons passing in the street could hear him, was qnietly informed by his pastor, one day, that if “ho wonid get a little nearer to God, he wouldn’t have to pray so loud.” —The Descent of Kan. —Figurative party; "So long as I am a man, sorr, what does i( matter to me whether me great-grandfather wa< an anthropoid ape or not, sorr? " Litoral party; “Haw, wather disagweesbio for year gwate gwandmother, wasn’t it ? ” —The boy with the big watch said time hnna heavy on bis hands. —The Prelates puzzled: Archbishop of Can terbury—“ If I know how to deal with the qnos. tion, may I bo—ahem!—disestablished!’’ Arch bishop of York—“lf I know what to say in the matter, may I be—ahem!—disendowed I” Punch. —Of a certain popular dramatic reader, re marks the Hornet, it may be said that ha ie a man of color, for his eyes aro black, his gloves are mauve, his manner " ready," his hair white and bis name Bel-lne. ’ —She Suited.—A lady recently applied at a life insurance company for a position as agent. When asked what her qualifications were, she touched her nnblnshing cheek. —Fast young men declare that tho great beauty of an ocean voyage is “ that you can gel as tight as you please, and people think you rs only sea-sick. —Rasper, being told be looked seedy, and asked what business ho was in, replied, “Tha hard-wear business ; look at my wardrobe I” —A sagacious papa exceedingly mortified his daughter by ordering to bo printed on her wed ding cards, “ No presents except those adapted to an income of $1,500.” —One of the soldiers sent against the Modocs received a letter from his sister containing tha following beautiful and touching sentiment; “And if anything should happen to you, do make some arrangement to have your hair re covered and sent on. It is the exact color of mine, and I can't get a pair of curls of the right shade anywhere here." —The Khiva Expedition.—Our correspondent telegraphs us a striking instance of tha differ ence in the domestic habits of the East and West. Here, the Queen and every woman in England is wont to keep hot water in a can • there, the Czar and all his courtiers delight ia keeping the Khan in hot water.— London Judy —A Parisian musical directory defines a shoot to be “ an unpleasant noise produced by over straining the throat, for which groat singers are well paid and small children well punished.” —A dealer in hair goods heads his advertise ment in the local newspapers with this travesty of Dr. Watts; 1 How vain are all things here below— How false and yet how fair ! But If for false things you will go, Invest at once in hair ! —A Kentucky farmer refused to look at simple sewing-machine recently, as he always “ sowed wheat by hand." He is related to the man who did not want a threshing-machine on his farm - “ for,” said he “ give me a harness-tug or a bar rel-stave, and I can make my family too tha mark according to law and Scriptor. ” —“ What are you about, my dear?'' said a grandmother to a little boy. who was idling about the room and casting furtive glances at a gentleman who was paying a visit. “I am try ing. grandma, to steal papa’s hat out of the room without letting the gentleman see it, for papa wants him to think he’s out." —A farmer and his wife called at a Detroi? photograph gallery last week to order some pho tographs of her, and while the operator was get ting ready the husband gave the wife a little ad vice as to how she must act: “Fasten your mind on something.” he said, “or else yea’ll laugh, and spile tha job. Think about early days; how your father got in jail, and year mother was an old scolder, and what you'd have been if I hadn’t pitied you. Jest fasten yens mind on to that I" She didn't have any photo graphs taken. _ —A. young lady in Nashville is changing her ; views somewhat relative to the question of mat rimony. She says that when she. “ camo out” in society she determined that she would not marry a man unless he was an Episcopalian. Time passed on and she did not get married, and then modified her views and concluded she would marry no man who was not a Christian. That young lady is still unmarried, and says now ; that all she is looking for ia a man that don't drink whisky. —Yesterday we overheard a couple of home made s&vana discussing the cause of the s&lint character of the water in Great Salt Lake- Said one: “ Well, it's my opinion that there’* ta underground connection with the Padda Ocean, and it’afllled with water from the Pacific.** “ But," said the other, “ Salt Lake is 7,000 fee£ > high’r’n the ocean; what do you think of that? j ‘‘Think of it I why I think it bursts my theory : all to h—L" —Eureka (JVecoda) Sentinel. 9 —The Danbury Eeics man, now in San Fran cisco. does not like the California style of mak ing change, and asks if it is customary there “to charge five cents commission for handling a half dollar." —Emulation : Maud—Eve had whooping-, cough 1 Ethel—Oh, that’s nothing; why. I’va had measles ! I Maud—Well, I’ve had bron chitis !! I Ethel (after a paaseV—l learn French II! I (Collapse of STaucLV-Punch. —lnquisitive Freshman to a Senior—Where do the Faculty got “sheep-skins" for Seniors to carry off at Commencement? Senior— I They kill Frenchmen. Frenchman walks off, wonder ing whether he has learned why so many wbc enter College fail to graduate. —Harvard Adro* cate. —A Legal Point.—A jury once returned into court in order that one of their number might be instructed upon the following point of law: “If I believe that the evidence is one way, and the other eleven believe different, does tint justify any other juryman in knocking me dovo with a chair?" —lt ia a startling fact in natural history li*l children who are “ perfect little lambs" üßualiJ grow up to be “ mutton-heads." —Dunng the warm weather the principal oc cupation of tho “girl of tho period” seems to fce Bitting on tho stoop waiting for the “comicg man.” Exist. —“ls there anyone here who takes excep tions to the rulings of this court” gaida New* Justice, patting a six-shooter on the table. Then wasn’t one. —Professor—What are the uses of starch germination ? Stndent (reciting on cheek)—ls the German nation staren is used very muchtc* same as in this country—in doing up linen such goods. Professor—lf you giro another answer as-that I will show you Sow they take th* starch out of students in the German nation. —A woman’s modesty is like her color—tf* tremely becoming if not put on. . —Tins incident comes from Oxford, New Tore 11 Three lads of a piscatory turn, absented th*®- selves from school in quest of bites and nlbbks* but the next morning, each being certain of ■ flogging by tho school ma'am, put on of pantaloons before seeking tho tempi* “ learning. , The day was warm, and so were boys. They perspired, liquefied, oozed at pore, but no flogging came. For six' they sweltered, and then, with a lecture on the impropriety of running they were dismissed in a feeble and flabby #7 ' dition, all three agreeing that a flogging J have been preferable to tho wearing of pantaloons in warm weather." ■ • —On one of our Eastern trains, tho ot'ierwj* a newly-married couple starting oil v*** oing tour, after comfortably arranging selves in tnoir seats, gave vent to their efflOy®" as follows: Husband (leaning over toward the partner of his joys and sorrows) - * “*Ooso little pet lamb is Vu?” Wife sponsive Husband- - . *3 does ’on love?” Wue—* 4 'Ou. n who heard this conversation, being asingl* 3 w was completely overcome at this point of conversation, and Joined tho eocbro-P crowd In the sjj*Okip£-car. FAIR CLEOPATRA.

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