Dr. R. G. S. Chew, of Calcutta, writing to the author, says:--“In 1873 I was a student in the Bishop’s High School, Poonah (Bombay Presidency), where I used to be generally at the head of my class, and when competing for the Science Prizes I was fully determined to take the first prize or none. The Reverend---- Watson, Rector of St. Mary’s Church and Chaplain to our school, knew my disposition, and cautioned me against being too sanguine, lest disappointment might tell very keenly. The disappointment came, and with it much nervous excitability. Shortly after this (Christmas, 1873) my favourite sister was seized with convulsions that carried her off. From the moment of her decease to nearly a month after her interment I entirely lost the power of speech. On the day of the funeral I was parched with thirst, but could not drink, as the water seemed to choke me. My eyes were burning and my head felt like bursting, but I could neither sob nor cry. I felt quite dazed, and followed the procession to the cemetery, where I stood motionless by the open grave; but as soon as they lowered the little coffin into its resting-place I threw myself headlong into the grave and fainted away. Some one pulled me out and carried me home, where I lay in a sort of stupor for nine days, during which Dr. Donaldson attended me most patiently, and I regained consciousness, but was too weak to even sit up in bed. On the 16th January, 1874, I felt a peculiar sensation as of something filling up my throat--no swelling, no pain nor anything that pointed to throat affection--and this getting worse and worse, in spite of everything, I _died_, as was supposed, on the 18th of January, 1874, and was laid out for burial, as the most careful examination failed to show the slightest traces of life. I had been in this state for twenty hours, and in another three hours would have been closed up for ever, when my eldest sister, who was leaning over the head of my coffin crying over me, declared she saw my lips move. The friends who had come to take their last look at me tried to persuade her it was only fancy, but, as she persisted, Dr. Donaldson was sent for to convince her that I was really dead. For some unexplained reason he had me taken out of the coffin and examined very carefully from head to foot. Noticing a peculiar, soft fluctuating swelling at the base of my neck, just where the clavicles meet the sternum, he went to his brougham, came back with his case of instruments, and, before any one could stop him or ask what he was going to do, laid open the tumour and plunged in a tracheotomy tube, when a quantity of pus escaped, and, releasing the pressure on the carotids and thyroid, was followed by a rush of blood and some movement on my part that startled the doctor. Restoratives were used, and I was slowly nursed back to life; but the tracheotomy tube (I _still_ carry the scar) was not finally removed till September, 1875.” “APPARENT DEATH FROM A FALL.