“A correspondent, signing himself T.E.N., in _To-Day_, October 12, 1895, says:--‘When acting as special correspondent to the _Evening Herald_ in Hamburg during the cholera plague, I met a gentleman who had been passed for dead and placed in the mortuary to await burial. When the porters entered some hours later to remove the hundred or so bodies, they found this gentleman sitting up in great pain, and very much frightened. He was placed in a ward and recovered. About the same time a little girl came to life actually at the graveside. She had been brought in one of several four-horse vans that conveyed bodies for interment in the Ohlsdorff grave-yard. Fortunately for her, she had not been placed in a coffin, the exigencies of the time rendering it impossible to provide caskets for the dead. When the disease began to die out, the people found time to ask--“Can it be possible that life remains in any of the bodies buried?” That the doctors in the latter days cut the ulnar arteries of all subjects before passing them for dead is full of significance.’” [CASES COMMUNICATED BY DR. CHEW.] The three following cases were communicated to the author, during his sojourn in Calcutta, by Dr. Chew, in the early part of this year (1896):-- “In March, 1877, Assistant-Surgeons H. A. Borthwick, S. Blake, H. B. Rogers, and myself received orders to proceed from Rawal Pindi by bullock-train to Peshawur to join the various regiments we were to be posted to for duty. We had just passed a place called Rati when Borthwick showed strong symptoms of cholera, from which he suffered all that night. The nearest hospital was twenty-five miles behind us, and though we had neither medicines nor sick-room comforts with us, we had no alternative but to journey onwards, because the train-drivers (Indians) refused to turn back, and if we did return to Rawal Pindi we would have been court-martialled for disobeying lawful commands and coming back without orders to do so. Travelling by bullock-train is very slow work, and far from a comfortable mode of transit; however, we were obliged to make the best of it, and early next morning Borthwick was cold, stiff, and seemingly dead. Here was a fine state of affairs--the nearest cantonment, which we had no expectation of reaching (_i.e._, Nowshera) before nine p.m., was thirty-six miles off, and by the time we arrived at it, it would have been too late to approach the authorities, while Peshawur, our destination, was another twenty-nine miles further off. Dispose of the body we dared not, and we had no choice but to continue our route. All that day there was not a movement or other sign to show that life was not extinct, and affairs seemed no better by five p.m. next day, when we reached Peshawur. The apparent corpse was lifted out of the bullock-train and carried into the hospital dispensary (where a strong fire was blazing) preparatory to papers being signed and arrangements made for its final disposal.