One day, when we were walking through a residential school, we were struck by the spectacle of a poor epileptic. This was a little girl of about fifteen years of age. She was wearing her school apron, and upon her head was the little osier cap which epileptics are made to wear, to avoid the danger of falls upon the head. It was lesson-time. Pale and thin, the little patient was sitting quietly in her place, listening to the lesson of her mistress, who was explaining the rule of the agreement of the participle. Did she understand? We hope so, since she belonged to one of the higher classes--the second, if we remember rightly. In any case, she was making a great effort to follow the grammatical explanation, and her forehead was thrown into wrinkles. All at once she gave a slight sigh, slipped down in her seat, and fell. The attendant took her in her arms and carried her into a corner of the room. The lesson continued with general indifference. The children pay little attention to such accidents, because they are so used to them. Now one, now another, has her attack of epilepsy. After a few minutes our little scholar came to herself. She appeared quite dazed. The attendant spoke to her with kind indifference. "Come, now, that is better. It is nothing. It is all over." The child did not reply, but docilely allowed herself to be led to her seat. She took up her former position, appearing to listen vaguely; and on her pinched face, with its drawn features, the lesson in grammar continued to fall. The people, visitors and professors, who were present at that scene, and thought it quite natural, surely did not understand the heart-break of it. Some time afterwards we made inquiries about this pupil, being curious to know how she was, and what she was doing. We were told: "She is a poor little thing, who has forgotten a great deal. Formerly she was a bright child. Now she is going back every day. By-and-by she will no longer be able to read. This is nearly always the way with our epileptics!" This sad story, which we have just recalled, we give as a striking illustration of our statistical calculations regarding the ultimate fate of these institution cases. Be it remembered, we had reached this very important conclusion: that epileptics, whether feeble-minded, or imbecile, or idiotic, never become capable of working at a trade. This somewhat vague conclusion it would be of great interest to examine more closely. Our little epileptic, who is gradually falling back, is an example. She has already reached the height of her development; she is fifteen years of age, and she is beginning to decline. We foresee the time when she will no longer know how to read. Is there, then, any use in wearying the poor thing by teaching her an abstract grammar rule? * * * * *