DEAF AND DUMB. (See Dumb.) DEAL. (See Pine.) DEAN; a corruption from decanus, Latin, from decem, ten, because a decanus commanded ten men, as the centurio did a hundred. This word, however, has acquired a much more extended meaning. Dean is, in England, a dignitary in most cathedral and collegiate churches, being usually the president of the chapter. He is called so because supposed to preside over ten canons or prebendaries at least. Dean is also a title given in England to several heads of peculiar churches or chapters, as, the dean of the king's chapel. Deans of colleges are, in English universities, officers appointed to superintend the behavior of the members, and to enforce discipline.-Rural deans, or urban deans, were, in the early ages of the church, ecclesiastics who presided over ten churches or parishes, either in the country or city within which they exercised jurisdiction. The French corruption of decanus is doyen, and has no ecclesiastical meaning. Doyen d'âge is the eldest of a society. In the chamber of deputies, the doyen d'âge presides until the chamber is regularly organized. In the academy of sciences, there are doyens in the different divisions.-In Germany, the head of each of the faculties of law, theology, medicine and philosophy, in the universities, is called decanus, and is changed, like the rector of the university, annually. DEATH, in common language, is opposed to life, and considered as the cessation of it. It is only, however, the organic life of the individual which becomes extinct; for neither the mind nor the matter which constituted that individual can perish. That view of nature which considers the whole as pervaded throughout by the breath of life, admits only of changes from one mode of existence to another. This change, which is called death, does not take place so quickly as is generally believed. It is usually preceded and caused by disease or the natural decay of old age. The state called death takes place suddenly only when the heart or the brain is injured in certain parts. Probably the brain and the heart are the parts from which, properly speaking, death proceeds; but, as the cessation of their functions is not so obvious as the cessation of the breath, which depends on them, the latter event is generally considered as indicating the moment when death takes place. In the organs of sense and motion, the consequences of death first become apparent; the muscles become

stiff; coldness and paleness spread over the whole body; the eye loses its brightness, the flesh its elasticity; yet it is not perfectly safe to conclude, from these circumstances, that death has taken place, in any given case, because experience shows that there may be a state of the body in which all these circumstances may concur, without the extinction of life. This state is called asphyxia. (q. v.) The commencement of putrefaction, in ordinary cases, affords the first certain evidence of death. This begins in the bowels and genitals, which swell, become soft and loose, and change color; the skin, also, begins to change, and becomes red in various places; blisters show themselves; the blood becomes more fluid, and discharges itself from the mouth, nose, eyes, ears and anus. By degrees, also, the other parts are decomposed, and, last of all, the teeth and bones. In the beginning of decomposition, azote and ammonia are produced: in the progress of it, hydrogen, compounded with carbon, sulphur and phosphorus, is the prevailing product, which causes an offensive smell, and the light which is sometimes observed about putrefying bodies. At last, only carbonic acid gas is produced, and the putrefying body then smells like earth newly dug. A fat, greasy earth remains, and a slimy, soap-like substance, which mixes with the ground, and contributes, with the preceding decompositions, to the fertility of it. Even in these remains of organized existence, organic life is not entirely extinct; and they contribute to produce new vegetable and animal structures. Putrefaction is much influenced by external circumstances, particularly air, heat, and water. When the body is protected from the action of such agents, it changes into adipocire (q. v.); but this process requires a much longer time than common putrefaction. In very dry situations, the body is converted into a mummy, in which state bodies are found in the arid deserts of Africa, and on the mountains in Peru. Some vaults are remarkable for preserving corpses from putrefaction. It is well known to every reader, that particular substances counteract putrefaction; for instance, those used in tanning, and in embalming mummies.

Death, Agony of, is the state which immediately precedes death, and in which life and death are considered as struggling with each other. This state differs according to the cause producing it. Sometimes it is a complete exhaustion; sometimes a violent struggle, and very ir

regular activity, which, at last, after a short pause, terminates in death. In some cases, consciousness is extinguished long before death arrives; in other cases, it continues during the whole period, and terminates only with life. The person in this condition has already somewhat the appearance of a corpse; the face is pale and sallow, the eyes are sunken, the skin of the forehead is tense, the nose pointed and white, the ears are relaxed, and the temples fallen in; a clammy sweat covers the forehead and the extremities, the alvine discharges and that of the urine take place involuntarily, the respiration becomes rattling, interrupted, and, at length, ceases entirely. At this moment, death is considered to take place. This state is of very different length; sometimes continuing for minutes only, sometimes for days. When the patient is in this condition, nothing should be attempted but to comfort and soothe him by prayer, by consoling assurances, by directing his attention to his speedy union with departed friends, by presenting him the crucifix, if he be a Catholic, or allowing him to put on the gown of a religious order, if he thinks it will contribute to his salvation; but a dying fellow creature should not be disturbed in relation to his particular mode of belief, at a moment when he has hardly sufficient strength to collect all the ideas which have been long familiar to him. The writer once saw a dying Mohammedan (an Albanian) suffering from the mistimed zeal of a Greek priest, who was near him, holding a crucifix to his mouth, and conjuring him to kiss it. The Mohammedan was evidently tormented, particularly as he was unable to resist. The writer begged the priest to leave him, and then tried to comfort the dying man, by presenting ideas and conceptions with which he was familiar, and a smile from his pale lips showed that the words were not entirely in vain. Remarkable statements are sometimes made by dying persons, in the intervals of the final struggle, that they have heard heavenly music, or seen departed friends, and can now die quietly. As long as the dying person is able to swallow, wine or other cordials may be given from time to time. It is a grateful duty to minister to the sufferings of those we love; and, where there is no hope, these offices have the additional interest that they are the latest we can pay. We have described how the violent struggle preceding death manifests itself, particularly on the human face, that tablet of all expression. After

death, however, it not unfrequently happens that the countenance regains its most natural expression, and the saying is common-"How natural, how like himself!" The mind seems for a moment to have regained its influence over what it has so long informed, and to shed over the countenance its most beautiful light, to cheer the hearts of the friends who have witnessed the distortion of death, and afford an earnest of its own immortality.

DEATH, CIVIL, is the entire loss of civil rights. If a person is civilly dead, his marriage is considered dissolved; he cannot inherit nor bequeath; his testament is opened, and his property distributed among his heirs; he cannot bear witness, &c. If he is required to do certain legal acts, he must do them through a guardian. Formerly, when the German empire was still in existence, a person put under the ban of the empire (Achtserklärung) became civilly dead, and was declared out of the protection of the law (corresponding, in a civil point of view, to Catholic excommunication, in regard to a man's religious rights). The ban went so far as to declare the outlaw vogelfrei (free as a bird), which meant that any body might even kill him, without notice being taken of it by law. But civil death was not received into the German law in other respects, and therefore, has not existed since the abolition of the empire. Most countries allow a person sentenced to death to make a will, except in particular cases, in which confiscation is part of the punishment. In France, however, the institution of civil death still exists (Code Napoléon, a. 22; Code Pénal, a. 18), and takes effect in the case of every one who is sentenced to death, to the galleys for life (travaux forcés), or to deportation, even if the person is convicted in contumacia, that is, in default of appearance on a legal summons. In England, a person outlawed (see Outlawry) on an indictment for treason or felony, is considered to be civilly dead (civiliter mortuus), being, in such case, considered to be guilty of the offence with which he is charged, as much as if a verdict had been found against him. Anciently, an outlawed felon was said to have a wolf's head (caput lupinum), and might be knocked on the head by any one that should meet him. The outlawry was decreed, in case the accused did not appear, on being summoned with certain forms, a certain number of times, and in different counties, to appear and answer to the indictment; so that the case is the same as the French laws denominate contumacy.

In such case, under an indictment for crimes of either of these descriptions, he was considered as having renounced all law, and was to be dealt with as in a state of nature, when every one who found him might slay him. But, in modern times, it has been held that no man is entitled to kill him wantonly and wilfully, but in so doing is guilty of murder, unless it be in endeavoring to apprehend him; for any one may arrest him, on a criminal prosecution, "either of his own head," or on writ or warrant, in order to bring him to execution. So a person banished the realm or transported for life, as a punishment for crime, forfeits all his civil rights as much as if he were dead. His wife may marry again, and his estate will be administered upon as if he were deceased. A will made by such a person, after incurring this civil disability, is void; and so are all acts done by him in the exercise of any civil right.—The statutes of New York provide that a convict sentenced to the state's prison for life shall be considered as thereby becoming civilly dead. All suits to which he is a party will, accordingly, abate, as in case of his natural decease (2 Johns. Ca. 408), and his wife may marry again, his estate be administered upon, and his heirs will succeed to the inheritance; and, though he may be afterwards pardoned, this will not defeat the proceedings which took place during his civil disability (4 Johnson's Reports, 232). The statutes passed in some of the United States against conspirators and absentees, at the commencement of the revolution, stripped them of all civil rights, and provided that their estates should be confiscated, or partly confiscated, to the state, and in part applied to the support of dependent relatives, or assigned to the wife as dower. These statutes were of a temporary and occasional character, and their operation has ceased with the occasion which gave rise to them.

DEATH, in mythology. The representation of death, among nations in their earlier stages, depends upon the ideas which they form of the state of man after this life, and of the disposition of their gods towards mankind. In this respect, the study of these representations is very interesting. Of later ages the same cannot be said, because imitations of representations previously adopted are very often the subjects of the plastic arts in such periods. However, these representations do not altogether depend on the causes above mentioned, as the general disposition of a nation (for instance, that of the Greeks,

who beautified every object) has also a great influence upon them; and it is remarkable that the Greeks, whose conceptions of an after-life were so gloomy, represented death as a pleasing, gentle being, a beautiful youth, whilst the Christians, whose religion teaches them to consider death as a release from bondage, a change from misery to happiness, give him the most frightful, and even disgusting shape. One reason of this may be, that the call to repentance is a prominent feature in the Christian religion; and to arm death with terrors may have been supposed to give weight to the summons.

The Greeks had many gods of death, the κŋpɛs and avaros; the former were the goddesses of fate, like the Valkyria in the Northern_mythology. Untimely deaths,

in particular, were ascribed to them; the latter, avaros, represented natural death. According to Homer, Sleep and Death are twins, and Hesiod calls them the sons of Night. They are often portrayed together on cameos, &c. During the most flourishing period of the arts, Death was represented on tombs as a friendly genius, with an inverted torch, and holding a wreath in his hand; or as a sleeping child, winged, with an inverted torch resting on his wreath. Sleep was represented in the same manner, except that the torch and the wreath were omitted. According to an idea originating in the East, death in the bloom of youth was attributed to the attachment of some particular deity, who snatched his favorite to a better world. It was ascribed, for instance, to Jupiter, or to his eagle, if the death was occasioned by lightning, as in the case of Ganymede; to the nymphs, if the individual was drowned, as in the case of Hylas; to Aurora, if the death happened in the morning; to Selene, if at night (Cephalus and Endymion), &c. These representations were more adapted to relieve the minds of surviving friends, than the pictures of horror drawn by later poets and artists. (See the classical treatises of Lessing, Sämmtl. Schriften, vol. 10, and Herder's Wie die Alten den Tod gebildet.) Euripides, in his Alcestis, even introduced Death on the stage, in a black robe, with a steel instrument in his hand, to cut off the hair of his victims, and thus devote them to the infernal gods. The later Roman poets represent Death under more horrible forms, gnashing his teeth, and marking his victims with bloody nails, a monster overshadowing whole fields of battle. The Hebrews, likewise, had a fearful angel of death, called Samaël, and prince of the

world, and coinciding with the devil; but he removes with a kiss those who die in early youth. Enoch was taken up to heaven alive. The disgusting representations of Death common among Christians, originated in the 14th century; for the representation of Death as a skeleton merely covered with skin, on the monument at Cumæ, was only an exception to the figure commonly ascribed to him among the ancients. In recent times, Death has again been represented as a beautiful youth-certainly a more Christian image than the skeleton with the sithe. The monument made by Canova, which George IV erected in honor of the Stuarts, in St. Peter's church at Rome, represents Death as a beautiful youth. He is sometimes portrayed under the figure of a dying lion.

DEATH, DANCE OF; an allegorical picture, in which are represented the various figures and appearances of death in the different relations of life, as a dance where Death takes the lead. The idea of such a dance appears to be originally German, and to belong to poetry. In later times, it was used, also, in England and France, by poets and artists. The French have such a dance-La Danse Macabrederived, it is said, from a poet called Macaber, but little known. A dance of Death was painted on the walls of the churchyard of the Innocents, at Paris, about the middle of the 15th century, which the chapter of St. Paul's, in London, caused to be copied, to adorn the walls of its monastery. Gabriel Peignot, in the Recherches sur les Danses des Morts et sur l'Origine des Cartes à jouer (Dijon and Paris, 1826), investigated the origin of the dance of Death in France, and thus explained the dancing positions of the skeletons; that, according to the relations of old chronicles, those who were attacked by the plague ran from their houses, making violent efforts to restore their rapidly-declining strength by all kinds of morbid movements. Others derive the origin of this representation from the masquerade. These dances are often found painted on the walls of Catholic burial-places. The most remarkable dance of Death was painted, in fresco, on the walls of the church-yard, in the suburb of St. John, at Basle, which was injured, in early times, by being washed over, and is now entirely destroyed. This piece has been ascribed to the celebrated Hans Holbein; but it has long since been proved that it existed 60 years before his birth. It was painted at Basle, in the year 1431, by an unknown

artist, in commemoration of the plague, which prevailed there at that time; the council was then sitting, and several of its members were carried off by it. It represented Death as summoning to the dance persons of all ranks, from the pope and the emperor down to the beggar, which was explained by edifying rhymes. That piece contained about 60 figures as large as life. Besides being ascribed to Holbein, as was before stated, it has also been ascribed to a painter named Glauber, but without foundation. Holbein perhaps conceived, from this picture, the idea of his dance of Death, the original drawings of which are in the cabinet of the empress of Russia, Catharine II. Some say that Holbein himself made the wood-cuts of it. The latest engravings of this picture of Holbein are in 33 plates, in the Euvres de Jean Holbein, par Chr. de Meckel (1st volume, Basil, 1780). Similar representations were painted, in the 15th century, in other cities of Switzerland. (See Müller's Geschichte der Schweizer-History of Switzerland-4 vols.) The dance of Death in St. Mary's church at Lübeck, was completed in 1463. On the walls of the churchyard of the Neustädt of Dresden, there is, even at the present time, to be seen a similar dance of Death. It consists of 27 basso-relievo figures, worked on sand-stone, and includes persons of both sexes, and of all ranks. The labor of the sculptor has more merit than the unpoetical rhymes which were afterwards added. (See Fiorillo's Geschichte der zeichnenden Künste in Deutschland und den Niederlanden, 4 volumes.)

DEATH, PUNISHMENT OF. The questions most commonly discussed by philosophers and jurists under this head are, 1. as to the right of governments to inflict the punishment of death; 2. as to the expediency of such punishment; 3. as to the crimes to which, if any, it may be most properly confined and limited; 4. as to the manner in which it should be inflicted. A few words will be said on each of these points.

1. As to the right of inflicting the punishment of death. This has been doubted by some distinguished persons; and the doubt is often the accompaniment of a highly cultivated mind, inclined to the indulgence of a romantic sensibility, and believing in human perfectibility. The right of society to punish offences against its safety and good order will scarcely be doubted by any considerate person. In a state of nature, individuals have a right to guard themselves from injury, and to

repel all aggressions by a force or precaution adequate to the object. This results from the right of self-preservation. If a person attempts to take away my life, I have, doubtless, a right to protect myself against the attempt by all reasonable means. If I cannot secure myself but by taking the life of the assailant, I have a right to take it. It would otherwise follow, that I must submit to a wrong, and lose my life, rather than preserve it by the means adequate to maintain it. It cannot, then, be denied that, in a state of nature, men may repel force by force, and may even justly take away life, if necessary to preserve their own. When men enter society, the right to protect themselves from injury and to redress wrongs is transferred, generally, from the individuals to the community. We say that it is generally so, because it must be obvious that, in many cases, the natural right of self-defence must remain. If a robber attacks one on the highway, or attempts to murder him, it is clear that he has a right to repel the assault, and to take the life of the assailant, if necessary for his safety; since society, in such a case, could not afford him any adequate and prompt redress. The necessity of instant relief, and of instant application of force, justifies the act, and is recognised in all civilized communities. When the right of society is once admitted to punish for offences, it seems difficult to assign any limits to the exercise of that right, short of what the exigencies of society require. If a state have a right to protect itself and its citizens in the enjoyment of its privileges and its peace, it must have a right to apply means adequate to this object. The object of human punishments is, or may be, threefold; first, to reform the offender; secondly, to deter others from offending; and, lastly, to secure the safety of the community, by depriving the offender of the power of doing mischief. The first consideration rarely enters into human legislation, because of the inadequacy of our means to produce great moral results by the infliction of punishment. The two latter considerations enter largely into the theory and practice of legislation. Who is to be the judge, in such cases, what is the adequate punishment for any offence? Certainly, punishments ought not to be inflicted, which are utterly disproportionate to the offence, and beyond the exigencies of society. No government has a right to punish cruelly and wantonly, and from mere revenge; but, still, the discretion must be vested some

where, to say what shall be the degree of punishment to be assigned to a particular offence. That discretion must be, from its nature, justly a part of the legislative power, and to be exercised according to the actual state of society. It may, nay, it must be differently exercised in different ages, and in different countries; for the same punishment which, in one age or country, may be sufficient to suppress an offence, or render it comparatively harmless, may, in another age or country, wholly fail of the effect. If mild punishments fail of effect, more severe must be resorted to, if the offence be of a nature which affects society in its vital principles, or safety, or interests. The very frequency of a crime must often furnish a very strong ground for severe punishment, not only as it furnishes proof that the present punishment is insufficient to deter men from committing it, but from the increased necessity of protecting society against dangerous crimes. But it is often said, that life is the gift of God, and therefore it cannot justly be taken away, either by the party himself, or another. If he cannot take it away, he cannot confer that power on others. But the fallacy of this argument is obvious. Life is no more the gift of God than other personal endowments or rights. A man has, by the gift of God, a right to personal liberty and locomotion, as well as to life; to eat and drink and breathe at large, as well as to exist; yet no one doubts that, by way of punishment, he may be confined in a solitary cell; that he may be perpetually imprisoned or deprived of free air, or compelled to live on bread and water. In short, no one doubts that he may be restrained in the exercise of any privileges or natural rights short of taking his life. Yet the reasoning, if worth any thing, extends to all these cases in an equal degree. If, by his crimes, a man may justly forfeit his personal rights, why not his life? But we have seen that it is not true, even in a state of nature, that a man's life may not be taken away by another, if the necessity of the case requires it. Why, then, may not society do the same, if its own safety requires it? Is the safety of one person more important than the safety of the whole community? Then, again, as to a man's inability to confer on others a right which he does not himself possess. Suppose it is so; the consequence which is deduced from this does not, in fact, arise. Blackstone, indeed, in his Commentaries (4 Comment. 8), seems to deduce the right of society to punish capital offences, in