office of a dean.—Deaneries and prebends may become void like a bishopric, by death, by deprivation, or by resignation either to the king or bishop. If a dean, prebendary, or other spiritual person, be made a bishop, all the preferments of which he was before possessed are void: and the king may present to them in right of his prerogative royal. But they are not void by the election, but only by the consecration.

Death, is generally considered as the separation of the soul from the body; in which sense it stands opposed to life, which consists in the union thereof.

Physicians usually define death by a total stoppage of the circulation of the blood, and a cessation of the animal and vital functions consequent thereon; as respiration, sensation, &c.

An animal body, by the actions inseparable from life, undergoes a continual change. Its smallest fibres become rigid; its minute vessels grow into solid fibres no longer pervious to the fluids; its greater vessels grow hard and narrow; and every thing becomes contracted, closed, and bound up; whence the dryness, immobility, and extenuation, observed in old age. By such means the offices of the minuter vessels are destroyed; the humours stagnate, harden, and at length coalesce with the solids. Thus are the subtlest fluids in the body intercepted and lost, the concoction weakened, and the reparation prevented; only the coarser juices continue to run slowly through the greater vessels, to the preservation of life, after the animal functions are destroyed. At length, in the process of these changes, death itself becomes inevitable, as the necessary consequence of life. But it is rare that life is thus long protracted, or that death succeeds merely from the decays and impairments of old age. Diseases, a long and horrid train, cut the work short.

The signs of death are in many cases very uncertain. If we consult what Winslow or Bruchier have said on this subject, we shall be convinced, that between life and death the shade is so very undistinguishable, that even all the powers of art can scarcely determine where the one ends and the other begins. The colour of the visage, the warmth of the body, and suppleness of the joints, are but uncertain signs of life still subsisting; while, on the contrary, the paleness of the complexion, the coldness of the body, the stiffness of the extremities, the cessation of all motion, and the total insensibility of the parts, are but uncertain marks of death begun. In the same manner also, with regard to the pulse and breathing; these motions are so often kept under, that it is impossible to perceive them. By bringing a looking-glass near to the mouth of the person supposed to be dead, people often expect to find whether he breathes or not. But this is a very uncertain experiment; the glass is frequently sullied by the vapour of the dead man's body; and often the person is still alive, though the glass is no way tarnished. In the same manner, neither burning nor scaring, neither noises in the ears nor pungent spirits applied to the nostrils, give certain signs of the discontinuance of life; and there are many instances of persons who have endured them all, and afterwards recovered without any external assistance, to the astonishment of the spectators. This ought to be a caution against hasty burials, especially in cases of sudden death, drowning, &c.