If life be defined, that power by which organized beings are enabled to resist the physical and chemical operation of surrounding agents, it follows that death must be marked by the occurrence of those phenomena to which the elective attractions, no longer suspended or controlled, will necessarily give rise; hence putrefaction has been considered by many authors as the only certain sign of dissolution; unfortunately, however, this process of decomposition does not immediately display its agency by visible effects; the countenance has remained unchanged for a considerable time after death, and cases have occurred in which its colour and complexion have not only been preserved, but even heightened. This difference in the celerity with which the body putrefies did not escape the observation of the ancients, and like every other mysterious occurrence, was attributed by them to divine interposition; we accordingly find that their poets mentioned those who preserved the appearance of freshness after death, as favoured persons, who had fallen by the gentle darts of Apollo and Diana; thus Hecuba[2] declares that Hector, although dead for twelve days, still remains fresh, like one who had died by the hands of Apollo. On the other hand, in certain morbid states of the living frame, so feebly do the powers of life resist the operation of physical agents, that if the body cannot be said actually to enter into a state of putrefaction, it may at least assume appearances so analogous as to be mistaken for it. The test of death, therefore, must rather be sought for amongst those signs which indicate the quiescence, or cessation of the functions of life, than from those which manifest the decomposition of the organs by which they are performed; and here again it may be imagined that no difficulty or fallacy can occur; the total cessation of respiration, pulsation, sensation, and all motion, it might be supposed, would indicate to the least experienced the departure of life, while the general aspect of the body, its pale and livid hue, the coldness of its surface, and the stiffness of its limbs, we might conclude were signs so palpable and satisfactory as to defy the possibility of doubt. To the skilful medical practitioner we apprehend such signs must ever be unequivocal; but we are not prepared to say that a common observer may not be sometimes deceived by them; in cases of extreme debility, as in the latter stage of fever, and where the patient is confined in vitiated air, the exhaustion may be so considerable as to lend all the appearance of death; indeed that such cases have occurred we have no less a testimony than that of the philanthropic _Howard_, who, in his work on Prisons, says, “I have known instances where persons supposed to be dead of the gaol fever, and brought out for burial, on being washed with cold water, have shewn signs of life, and soon afterwards recovered.” _Hippocrates_,