DR. PHILIP ON THE NATURE OF DEATH. 191 



symptoms, as in cases where the cause of the disease makes its first impression on 

 the sensitive organs themselves, are those of nervous apoplexy. 



In this way death from causes of injury, making their impression on the vital organs, 

 often approaches very nearly to the nature of the other forms of death which have 

 been considered ; and in almost all instances, with the exception of the most sudden, 

 this is more or less the case ; and consequently many of the observations made re- 

 specting the other forms of death, apply to the form I am now considering, parti- 

 cularly those relating to the gradual diminution of sensibility and perversion of taste 

 which so generally precede, and more or less reconcile us to death. 



I have already had occasion to observe, that even in some protracted cases there is 

 little of this tendency. This, of course, is most apt to happen where the sensitive 

 system is least affected, and therefore where the cause of injury makes its impression 

 on vital organs of little sensibility, — on the lungs, for example, organs of peculiarly 

 dull feeling, — a wise provision, for the air is so variously impregnated, and in so many 

 ways which it is impossible to guard against, that were their sensibility acute, we 

 should be exposed to constant causes of irritation. It is probably from its being so 

 little so that, of all our organs, their sensibility is least apt to be increased by disease, 

 the common effect of continued irritation. Those who have been troubled with carious 

 teeth know how sensible the gums, parts of comparatively dull feeling, often become 

 in disease. Even the most severe inflammation of the lungs may exist without pain, 

 although the difficulty of breathing, cough and fever, which attend it, sometimes ex- 

 haust the feelings as much as pain. In its more chronic forms, however, it is often but 

 little distressing even in these ways ; and I have seen a few cases of pulmonary con- 

 sumption, in which the sensibility and relish of life continued so entire, long after the 

 patient was sensible of his approaching end, as to produce a state of mind peculiarly 

 distressing, differing but little from that of those who look forward to what is called 

 a violent death. This, however, is rare. In all serious and particularly tedious illness 

 there is generally sufficient bodily suffering and perversion of taste, more or less, to 

 blunt the sensibility, and in some measure to wean the patient from the love of life ; 

 and we generally find the grief and agitation on the part of the relatives, and on that 

 of the patient, a degree of indifference and composure, which those who have only 

 experienced the feelings of healthful vigour are at a loss to comprehend. Even 

 the dread of death at length prepares us for it. The feelings of the criminal who is 

 hanged on the instant are those of horror ; of him who has languished in prison, of 

 resignation. 



But of whatever kind and degree the previous suffering may be, and by whatever 

 cause produced, the last act of dying, in the common sense of the word, is still but 

 the extinction of the sensibility, and consequently the termination of all suffering ; 

 and, as might from its nature have been foretold, so calm in general is this last act, 

 that the most anxious observer often finds it impossible to ascertain the moment at 

 which it takes place. 



