In the institution at Madras, out of 233 inmates, no less than 34 were Europeans or Eurasians, chiefly the latter. The leper’s lot in India and Burma is a terribly sad one. The following picture of his condition is drawn by Colonel E. H. Paske, late Deputy Commissioner of Kangra, Punjab:— “Leprosy is a slow, creeping disease, seldom or never immediately fatal, though shortening life. It is accompanied by a great deal of physical pain and suffering, and an amount of mental torture varying with the natural sensibilities of the victim. The leper’s life is burdensome to himself, and his presence loathsome to those around him; no object can be more pitiable, more repulsive, or more terrible. “While the living body is undergoing a process of perceptible waste and decay in a manner the most loathsome, the mind is subjected to the most depressing influences, aggravated by the life of separation and isolation which the sufferer is forced to lead. As soon as the leprous taint becomes apparent, the victim is shunned by those around him, even members of his household avoiding his touch. For a time he leads a life of separation in his own home; but as the disease progresses, and his appearance is rendered more repulsive, he becomes an outcast, wandering through the country, subsisting by beggary, or else located in a small hut at a distance from all other habitations. A truly piteous sight it is to see the leper crouching outside his hovel, holding out wasted stumps that once were hands, and crying for alms from the passing traveller. When the leper resides near his home, his relatives, or fellow-villagers, make provision for his wants, but for a time only; they soon tire of the burden of his support. Too frequently, when police reports announce that a leper has been found dead, has committed suicide, or has been burnt to death in his hut, there is reason to believe that those who have been responsible for the maintenance of the sufferer had adopted sure means of freeing themselves from the burden. In one instance where a leper had been murdered by his own sons and brothers, the prisoners on their trial pleaded that they had put an end to the man’s existence at his own request, to spare him from further suffering. In another instance, where a leper had been buried alive by his next-of-kin, it was urged that this mode of death would prevent the disease from becoming hereditary. Such are briefly a few particulars of the life of the poor crippled leper in India. An outcast, he still clings to life in a condition the most helpless—an object so repulsive that charity almost loathes to approach it.”