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MODERN PERSECUTION, Or Insane Asylums Unveiled, As Demonstrated by the Report of the Investigating Committee of the Legislature of Illinois.

By Mrs. E. P. W. PACKARD.

"Ye Shall Know the Truth."

Published, by the Authoress.

Vol. I.

HARTFORD:
CASE, LOCKWOOD & BRAINARD, PRINTERS AND BINDERS.
1873.

TO MY BELOVED CHILDREN IS THIS BOOK MOST AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

To you, my first-born son, THEOPHILUS PACKARD, JR., born March 17, 1842: and you, my second child, ISAAC WARE PACKARD, born June 24, 1844; and you, my third child, SAMUEL WARE PACKARD, born November 29, 1847; and you, my only daughter, ELIZABETH WARE PACKARD, born May 10, 1850; and you, my fifth child, GEORGE HASTINGS PACKARD, born July 18, 1853; and you, my sixth child, ARTHUR DWIGHT PACKARD, born December 18, 1858; -- I dedicate this Book, or a record of your mother's persecuted life -- of that life of which you are the sun, moon and stars. Yes, it is for you, my jewels, I have lived -- it is for you I have suffered the agonies of Gethsemane's Garden -- it is for you I have hung on this cross of crucifixion; and been entombed three years in a living cemetery; and oh! it is for your sakes I hope to rise again, to find my maternal joys immortalized.

Children dear, when all the world forsook me and fled, you stood firm for right, firm for truth, firm for duty; you, and you alone, were true to the mother who bore you, for you knew she was true to man, and true to God. Yes, your tender, loving hearts have writhed in secret agony over your mother's sorrows -- but you have been denied the boon of human sympathy for yourselves; and, what is harder still, you have not been allowed to bestow it upon your persecuted mother, even, while her lacerated heart was panting to receive it from you.

Yes, you, my first-born son, Theophilus, have been threatened with disinheritance from our family and home, because you loved your kind-hearted mother so well, that you sought to visit her in her prison-home in defiance of your father's edict. Oh, my son! Thy Father, God, will not disinherit thee for loving thy mother, even when the world forsook her. Four times has thy hard-earned wages, my filial Theophilus, been cheerfully expended to visit your mother in her dreary cell.

And you, my Isaac, I have consented to lay upon the altar of my country -- a living sacrifice for its sin. God has accepted the sacrifice and spared my Isaac! In the army you toiled early and late to accumulate a treasure, with which you could visit your mother. God succeeded you -- you paid me one clandestine visit in my prison.

Your two clandestine letters are all the letters from my children I have been permitted to receive. But oh! I needed no such proofs of your true love to assure me it was not dead within you.

No, death and a living tomb cannot separate us. We are one in Christ. Oh, my children! Every earthly love has died within me -- but oh! the death agonies of the maternal love well nigh rent soul and body asunder. Yes, the mother has died! But she has risen again -- the mother of her country -- and her sons and daughters are -- The American Republic.

Children, it is for the service of your country your mother has dedicated you, one and all. May you, my sons, be fitted to adorn the garden of American freedom, "as plants," grown up in your youth, from the rocky but luxuriant soil of family persecution. And may you, my daughter, be as a "corner-stone," in our new temple of American freedom -- "polished after the similitude of a palace."

CONTENTS.

Introduction. 13
CHAPTER I. The Bible Class. 33
CHAPTER II. Evil Forebodings. 39
CHAPTER III. My Abduction. 51
CHAPTER IV. My Journey. 64
CHAPTER V. My Reception. 73
CHAPTER VI. My First Day of Prison Life. 75
CHAPTER VII. The Parting Scene. 84
CHAPTER VIII. Disappointed Hopes. 88
CHAPTER IX. Sunny Side of my Prison Life. 96
CHAPTER X. Letters to my Husband and Children. 104
CHAPTER XI. My Transition. 110
CHAPTER XII. My Removal from the Best Ward to the Worst. 114
CHAPTER XIII. My Reproof to Dr. McFarland for his Abuse of his Patients. 120
CHAPTER XIV. My Occupation. 138
CHAPTER XV. Evidences of My Insanity. 144
CHAPTER XVI. The Attendant who Abused Me. 152
CHAPTER XVII. "Let Dr. McFarland Bear his own Sins!" 156
CHAPTER XVIII. Attempted Reconciliation with Mr. Packard. 158
CHAPTER XIX. Letter to My Children sent to the Wash-tub. 164
CHAPTER XX. How I Obtained my first Writing Paper. 168
CHAPTER XXI. The Modem Mode of Subjugating Married Women. 171
CHAPTER XXII. My Life Imperilled. 176
CHAPTER XXII. Self-Defense -- Clandestine Letters. 181
CHAPTER XXIV. "You should Return to your Husband". 191
CHAPTER XXV. Miss Mary Tomlin -- A Model Attendant. 195
CHAPTER XXVI. Mrs. McFarland -- The Matron. 200
CHAPTER XXVII. The Sane kept for the Doctor's Benefit. 204
CHAPTER XXVIII. Record of a Day. 209
CHAPTER XXIX. How I Bought and Retained some Paper. 213
CHAPTER XXX. How Mr. Packard gave me Paper, and how Dr. McFarland Stole it. 219
CHAPTER XXXI. My Family Relatives. 222
CHAPTER XXXII. Old Mrs. Timmons Deserted by Her Children. 227
CHAPTER XXXIII. Mrs. Cheneworth's Suicide -- Medical Abuse. 231
CHAPTER XXXIV. Changes and how brought about. 240
CHAPTER XXXV. My Battle with Despotism -- No Surrender. 244
CHAPTER XXXVI. Reading Books and Papers. 250
CHAPTER XXXVII. Abusing Mrs. Stanley. 254
CHAPTER XXXVIII. Subduing a New Prisoner. 258
CHAPTER XXXIX. Treatment of the Sick. 263
CHAPTER XL. Mrs. Leonard's Visit to her Mother. 266
CHAPTER XLI. Mrs. Emeline Bridgman -- or Nature's Laws Broken. 271
CHAPTER XLII. Sick Patients Driven off from their Beds. 279
CHAPTER XLIII. Interview with Mr. Wells, of Chicago -- A Victim of Homesickness. 284
CHAPTER XLIV. An Asylum Sabbath. 291
CHAPTER XLV. An Attendant put under My Charge. 293
CHAPTER XLVI A Scene in the Fifth Ward. 296
CHAPTER XLVII. Mrs. Olsen's Fifth Ward Experiences. 300
CHAPTER XLVIII. Mrs. Olsen's Eighth Ward Experience. 317
CHAPTER XLIX. "Wives and Husbands There Must Part". 327
CHAPTER L. How to make Incurables. 330
CHAPTER LI. I was Punished for Telling the Truth. 338
CHAPTER LII. The Prisoner who called Himself "Jesus Christ!". 344
CHAPTER LIII. My First Opportunity for Self-Defense. 349
CHAPTER LIV. My Exposure of Calvinism and Defense of Christianity. 357
CHAPTER LV. The Dawning of a New Dispensation. 364
CHAPTER LVI. The Moral Barometer Indicates a Storm -- A Hurricane. 306
CHAPTER LVII. The Clouds Disperse. 377
CHAPTER LVIII. My Oldest Son Obtains My Discharge. 383
CHAPTER LIX. The Trustees force me into the Hands of Mr. Packard. 386
CHAPTER LX. An Appeal to the Government to Protect the Inmates of Insane Asylums by Law. 397

PREFACE.

Providence hinges mighty events on pivots exceedingly small. What men call accidents, are God's appointed incidents. We are traitors to any truth when we suppress the utterance of it, and allow the opposite error to go unrebuked.

High principles must be advanced as real laws. A desire to elevate all mankind to the nobleness for which they are designed, should manifest the depth and purity of our moral convictions. We should meet evil with mildness, yet with unfaltering firmness. We should aim to bring out a noble spirit into daily intercourse, believing that a holy life is a more precious offering to truth, than retired speculations and writings; for he who leaves a holy life behind him, bequeaths to the world a richer legacy than any book. The want of moral courage to carry out great principles, and to act upon them at all risks, is fatal to originality, because the faculties slumber within, being weighed down by the chains of custom.

This habit of reliance upon principle should give us a buoyant consciousness of superiority to every outward influence. A far higher anticipation of great results from worthy deeds, should make us strenuous in action, and fill us with a cheerful trust. We must be palsied by no fear to offend, no desire to please, no dependence upon the judgment of others. The consciousness of self-subsistence, of disinterested conformity to high principles, will command an open freedom to our utterances, and will summon into our service a spiritual force that will resist and overcome all obstacles.

Under the inspiration of such sentiments have I penned the following narrative of my experiences, beneath a dark cloud of adverse events, whose silver lining is yet to be discovered to my physical vision.

As the dyer uses mordants to set his colors, so my Heavenly Father has employed the mordant of adversity to individualize my sentiments of morality and virtuous action. And, by my experiences, it would seem that my Father intended to so capacitate me that I should be daunted and discouraged by nothing, that true loyalty might be burned into my heart. This loyalty demands that individual reason and conscience, enlightened by revealed truth, be the guide of human actions. It allows no oligarchy of creeds, sects, or customs to be a standard, which ignores the individual as a sovereign over himself. The God within is the monarch of this realm of human freedom.

Mrs. E. P. W. PACKARD.
CHICAGO, ILLS., January, 1873.
(1496 Prairie Avenue.)

INTRODUCTION.

As an introduction to the dramatic tale contained in this volume, I shall give my readers a full delineation of my most radical opinions in the language in which I gave them to the Bible-class in Manteno, Kankakee county, Illinois, since upon these opinions, there expressed, rests the foundation of the whole subsequent drama.

These opinions were given to the class in writing so as to prevent misrepresentation. At the time I was kidnapped these Bible-class papers were stolen from me, and were persistently retained by my husband, Mr. Packard, until sometime after my liberation, when I got possession of them in the following manner:

Mr. Packard had for some time been trying to induce me to sign a deed, so that he could sell some real estate, and I had objected, unless he should give me some equivalent for what he had already unjustly taken from me. This he would not do. He therefore went to Esquire La Brie, and took an oath that his wife was insane, so that he could sell the property without my signature.

Finding my refusal was not going to save my right of dower, or prevent his selling the property, I proposed to him that I would sign the deed on condition that he would restore to me my papers. He accordingly called in Esquire La Brie to witness my signature, and in his presence he gave me my papers, as I had proposed. This signature was acknowledged as valid, although two days before Mr. Packard had taken an oath on the Bible, that I was insane, and thereby incompetent to sign a deed! By means of this perjury, on his part, my papers were restored to me.

FREE DISCUSSION OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF.

Free discussion implies that both sides of a subject can be investigated, and allows full liberty to each individual to express his honestly cherished opinions, and also give his reasons in support of them. My classmates, we have nothing to fear in applying the scales of free discussion to our religious belief, for truth will sustain itself; the scales of free discussion, intelligently used, always preponderate on the side of the truth -- that is, the weightiest reasons always bear upon that side, and indicate a balance in its favor.

For instance, should we wish to test the existence of a God in the scales of free discussion, what have we to fear in the use of the scales on this point? If we are not prepared to support His existence by such arguments as will make the scales preponderate right, is it not best for us to bestow study on that point sufficient to defend it with intelligent reason, since this is confidently assumed to be a truth in our creed? Then we shall be prepared to defend as well as assert our belief. It is not respectful for us to say to our opponents on this or any other point, "I know your side is the wrong one, and you ought to take our positive assertion as authority sufficient to condemn you as a heretic, simply because you believe contrary to my honestly cherished opinions."

No, my classmates, the religion of authority has had its day; a reasonable religion, such as will bear the infallible tests of truth, based on arguments drawn from God's word and works, is the religion for us.

Truth should be indorsed by us through our reasoning faculties alone, and therefore should not conflict with our common sense and enlightened reason. And it is my opinion, that the religion God sent to man, is so peculiarly adapted to man's nature, as not to conflict with the common-sense views of the common mass of minds. And ere the bright millennial day dawns upon us, I believe that theologically sectarian views will give place to the common-sense views of mankind, and that this is to be the way there is to be "but one Lord, one faith, one baptism."

Now, what can be the harm, dear classmates, in our trying to hasten this day, by bringing our educated belief to this test, by kindly using the scales of free discussion? For myself, I feel willing to have all my opinions tested by these scales, and I am willing to yield any point of belief to a weightier invincible argument in the opposite scale -- that is, those views which seem best supported by sound argument and candid reasoning I willingly indorse, although they may conflict with some of my preconceived ideas, or my educated belief, or even with our sectarian creeds. For it is not impossible but that some simple moral truth may have become perverted by educational influences. And candor and honesty, it seems to me, compel us to admit that there is a mixture of truth and error in the creeds of all denominations of Christians, not even excepting the creed of the Presbyterian church; and what can be the harm in thus testing these views, and thereby separating the precious from the vile, rather than by trying to defend our sectarian creeds by arguments and reasons which are not based in truth for their support, thus perpetuating falsehood or errors.

It is my desire, dear classmates, that this social Bible-class be employed as a means to fit us to become valiant defenders of our faith -- that we here capacitate ourselves to defend all points of our belief by rational and intelligent reasons, that we may be able to meet the common enemy of our holy religion with arguments "such as he cannot gainsay or resist." The truth never suffers by agitation and free discussion. It is error alone that fears the light and shrinks before the scales. Let us dare to judge for ourselves what is right, and let us know what right and truth are, by bringing our religious belief to this test of reason and common sense. Let us throw off the blinding influence of prejudice and sectarian zeal, and come up upon the nobler, higher platform of being simple, sincere, charitable, honest seekers after the real, simple, naked truth.

Having obtained permission from our teacher, Deacon Smith, to read the above article before the class, I commenced reading; but finding it to be a defense of what he had determined to stop -- free discussion -- he interrupted me, by forbidding my reading any farther. Of course I quietly submitted to this mandate with unanswering obedience.

RIGHTS OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT.

I profess to be no theologian, or to have adopted the creed of any sect or denomination of Christians as infallible. But I do profess to take the works and word of God, or facts and revelation as our only infallible guide in our search for truth, and a "thus saith the Lord," as a settling of all controversy. But since I know it to be a fact that equally sincere and honest Christians put a very different construction upon the same event of Providence, and the same text of Scripture, I feel that we are compelled to assume the responsibility of private judgment. And in so doing, I believe we are obeying Christ's directions in the fifty-seventh verse of the twelfth chapter of Luke, viz.: "And why, even of yourselves, judge ye not what is right?"

I regard this Bible-class as having reached that state of development where God holds us individually responsible for our belief. I therefore esteem it a great privilege to be in a Bible-class where our opinions are called for, rather than the opinions of commentators. Not that I wish to disregard the opinions of commentators or learned theologians in my search for Bible truth; for I do think that their opinions are entitled to great deference and respect. While I at the same time believe that a Bible is a book so peculiar in its nature, that learning and talent are not indispensable to a correct interpretation of it, any more than experience and education are indispensably necessary to our judging correctly of the wants of nature.

For instance, because an adult may choose strong drink to allay his thirst, and the child prefer cold water, I do not think we are justified in concluding that strong drink is the best adapted to meet the wants of nature, simply because a mature man chooses it; for this adult may have perverted his natural appetite, so that his choice may not be so much in accordance with nature as the instincts of the child. As in our physical, so in our moral nature, there may be a liability that a simple moral truth may have been perverted by educational influences. Therefore, I do not think that because a talented and learned theologian advances an opinion, that he is certainly correct; neither because an illiterate layman holds a different opinion, do I think he is certainly wrong. But in both cases we should judge of the opinion upon its own intrinsic merits, independent of the source or medium through which it comes to us.

Now, dear classmates, conscious that I am alone and personally responsible to God for my religious belief, I do not want to embrace an error. Therefore I will be very thankful to be shown wherein my opinions are unsound, or my reasoning inconclusive. Just consider my views, not as those of a theologian, but as one who is searching for truth on the same common plane with yourselves; and I ask you to give my opinions no more credence than you think truth entitles them to as you view it. For it is the common sense of common men and common women that I so much covet as my tribunal of judgment, rather than learned commentators, or popular theologians, or venerable doctors of divinity.

"TOTAL DEPRAVITY."

It is the authority of creeds, echoed by the theologians and ministers of the Presbyterian pulpit, not excepting our own pastor, that human nature is necessarily a sinful nature.

Now, I ask the privilege of presenting to our class this question "If human, nature is necessarily a sinful nature, how could Christ take upon himself human nature, and know no sin?" This question was referred to their pastor for an answer. Mr. Packard gave it as his opinion that a "Holy God might make a holy human nature for Christ, and a sinful nature for the rest of the human family." Upon this, one of the class inquired, "Can a holy God make sin?"

These questions troubled both our teacher, Deacon Smith, and their pastor. They could not answer them satisfactorily to themselves or the class; and it was to extricate themselves from this unpleasant dilemma that they at once agreed that this question was the result of a diseased brain, from whence it had emanated, and therefore it was unworthy of their consideration! Thus their reputation for intelligence and ability was placed beyond question, and the infallibility of their creed remained inviolate! And their "poor afflicted Christian sister" must be kindly cared for within the massive walls of a prison, lest her diseased brain communicate its contagion to other brains, and then what will become of our creed! for we cannot afford to follow the example of this "Man of God," and sacrifice our wives and mothers to save our creed!

SPARE THE CREED!

Though the mother's heart do bleed,
Spare! O, spare our trembling creed!
Though her tender infants cry,
Though they pine, and droop, and die,
Though her daily care they need,
Spare! O, spare our trembling creed!

Force the mother from her home!
That once pure and peaceful dome;
Bind her fast with maniacs, where
None will heed her yearning prayer;
Let cold bars and bolts and keys
Fetter mothers such as these!
Iron manacles we need
To protect our darling creed.

What are homes or children's claims?
What a doting mother's aims?
What were life, love, liberty,
If our creed imperilled be!
Nothing in this world we heed,
Like our dear endangered creed.
Thus State power august hath wrought
Fetters for too daring thought!
Souls thus bold Asylums need,
To protect our precious creed.

-- Mrs. S. N. B. O.

This was the pivot on which my reputation for sanity was suspended; for I could not be made to confess that God made a bad or sinful article when He made human nature; but on the contrary, I claimed that all which God made was "good" -- that is, was just as He intended it to be; and I furthermore argued, that to be natural was to be just as God had made me to be-that to be unnatural, was to be wrong or sinful. I claimed that God's work, as He made it, was perfect -- it needed no regeneration to make it right -- that regeneration was necessary only when we had become unnatural or different from what God had made us.

I willingly acknowledged that our natures in their present state were perverted or depraved, in many instances to a painful degree; but that none are entirely lost to all traces of the divine image. For example, the drunkard is depraved in his appetite for drink, and the regeneration he needs is not a new appetite, but a restoration of it to its natural, original, unperverted state. Then he would have only a natural appetite for food and drink, which is in itself no sin; but the sin consists in his abuse of a natural instinct, not in the natural use of it. So that the natural exercise of our faculties, as God has made them, is not wrong, but only the unnatural or abusive use of them is wrong or sinful.

THE UNLIMITED ATONEMENT.

The professedly orthodox pulpit says, that "God intended all mankind for a life of purity, virtue and happiness." Now I wish to ask if God's intentions can be thwarted? If they cannot be thwarted, and God intended all mankind for happiness, will not all men be saved? If God intended it, and does not accomplish it, is He omnipotent? I believe God is omnipotent -- that He intends nothing but good -- and He will carry out all his intentions. I believe the devil is not omnipotent -- that he intends nothing but evil -- and he will ultimately fail in all his intentions.

Therefore, God's intention in sending His Son into the world to redeem and save it, cannot be defeated; and when He assures us in His word, that He "would that all men be saved," I believe that He is sincere, and thereby intends to bring all men ultimately to repentance and faith in Christ. And when He assures us that "death and hell shall be destroyed," I believe it. And therefore there must ultimately be a time when sin and punishment must cease to be; and as sin and punishment had a beginning, they must have an end. But as God never had a beginning, so will He never have an end, but is destined, ultimately, to be the mighty conqueror and head over all.

GOD'S IMMUTABILITY.

While Deacon Smith was our teacher, I once asked him this question, viz.: "Did God change His purpose towards Nineveh, when he said He would destroy Nineveh and afterward saved it, as Jonah seemed to think He did, and expostulated with him to this effect?"

Deacon Smith replied, "He did not. God never changes His purposes." This I considered as a correct answer; but his attempt to reconcile the two facts, viz.: His attribute of unchangeableness, and His change toward Nineveh, was not satisfactory. He simply remarked, "God was not obliged to explain His plans and operations of government to Jonah's satisfaction." This reason seemed to my mind to reflect a degree of dishonor upon the perfect character of our God. I believe we have a right to inquire, like Jonah, into a knowledge of his ways concerning us, and that we can, and ought, so to interpret His providences as not to reflect dishonor upon His character for justice and veracity, either in word or action; and I believe He is willing thus to manifest Himself to us, and thereby convict us of our unreasonable complaints against His providences toward us. I say this suggestion from Deacon Smith did not satisfy me, but the suggestion of Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Dixon did fully satisfy me.

They said, "The Ninevites repented, as a reason why God's actions toward them changed." Here was the key which unlocked all the mystery. It is we that change -- not God. He has unchangeably decreed that sin and sinners shall be punished. And He has unchangeably decreed to extend pardon and forgiveness to the repentant sinner. These two eternal purposes are His unchangeable decrees thus to act in all future time. The Ninevites knew it was so, and therefore they resorted to the only possible way they could resort to and be saved. They repented -- God's immutable purpose stood unchanged. They were forgiven, and thus saved.

WHAT IS IT TO BE A CHRISTIAN?

It is not to cease to be a sinner. "No man liveth and sinneth not." All come short of perfect obedience to God's laws. To be a Christian is to be like Christ -- that is, to live in accordance with the laws of our being, both physical and moral and spiritual; but as our knowledge of these laws is limited, we are liable to transgress ignorantly; but the Christian is willing to put on Christ's righteousness, by repenting of his wrong doing, and thus living like him. By obeying God's laws, he becomes like Christ, and thus puts on his righteousness.

It is one part of my Christianity, as I view it, to obey the laws of health, and thus live a healthy, natural life, believing that is the best foundation on which to build up my spiritual nature. I cannot conceive of a symmetrical spiritual body without a healthy natural body to sustain it, any more than I can expect to build a cupola without a house to rest it upon. "First the natural, then the spiritual," seems to be the order God has established to develop human beings and make them like Christ. The human nature must be sublimated into the divine nature; or in other words, the lower, animal propensities must become only the servants of the higher, spiritual faculties, instead of being their masters as they now are, in their present depraved or unnatural condition.

FREEDOM OF CONSCIENCE.

Conscience is God's vicegerent in the soul. To heed the voice of conscience is to heed the voice of God. I never dare to do what I conscientiously believe to be wrong; neither will I be deterred from doing what I conscientiously believe to be right, impossibilities of course excepted, for God never requires of us impossibilities.

I regard my conscience as a safe guide for myself, therefore I allow it so to others; while at the same time I believe it is only safe when it is based upon truth; and to me, the truth must be based upon God's revealed will, as I view it in God's word and works, and is thereby identified with the Bible. But I do not regard my views of truth as a standard for any other human being but myself; therefore I do not feel at liberty to judge any other's conscience than my own. I cheerfully assume the entire responsibility of my own actions, viewed from my own standpoint; but I am not willing to take the responsibility of any other's actions, viewed from their standpoint. We must all stand or fall for ourselves in judgment. Therefore, I claim Freedom of Conscience for all the human family equally with myself.

SPIRITUAL GIFTS.

The following article was prepared for the class, but was refused a hearing lest it be found to favor Spiritualism:

I differ from Deacon Merrick in the opinion that those spiritual gifts mentioned in the 12th chapter of 1st Corinthians -- viz.: "the gifts of healing, working of miracles, prophecying, discerning of spirits, interpretation of tongues, the word of wisdom, and the word of knowledge," etc., were confined to the apostolic age. But it is my opinion that they are the legitimate fruits of pure Christianity, and attendant upon it to the end of time. Christ says, "these signs shall follow them that believe." Faith is evidently the stock on which these gifts are grafted, and I believe this is a kind of faith which it is our duty to cultivate and exercise to the same degree that the apostles did. And my reasons for this belief are supported by facts and revelation, as I view it.

FIRST. -- The Bible supports this opinion. Christ instructed us to exercise a kind of faith, "which he compares in power to that of" removing mountains," and also, "if ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed ye might say to this sycamore tree, be thou plucked up by the roots, and be thou cast into the sea, and it shall obey you." Now these illustrations evidently seem to teach that in the exercise of this faith we may expect effects to be produced beyond what our reason alone would justify us in expecting. Again, in James it is said "the prayer of faith shall save the sick." And again, "all things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive."

Now will it be uncharitable in me to suggest that the faith of the orthodox churches of the present day may be like unto the faith of the woman who was told she could have whatever she asked for, believing she should have it. Shortly after she wanted something very much, and so prayed for it to get it; but it did not come. Chagrined at her failure, she remarked indignantly, "I knew it would not come when I asked for it!" Now, may not Christians ask like this woman, disbelieving, instead of believing they shall have them?

SECOND. -- The proof of facts that this faith was not confined to the apostles -- first, the Bible fact. James directs the churches to call for the elders of the church "to come and anoint the sick man with oil, and to pray over him, and the prayer of faith shall save the sick." These elders who had this power were not the apostles. And Joel prophesies of the last day, "your sons and daughters shall prophesy." From this it seems there is to he a time in the future when pure, simple Christianity, like that which the apostles taught, is to prevail again upon the earth, and then these gifts are to follow as the fruits of this simple faith; thus showing that this faith was not to be confined to the apostles, but was intended to be the natural heritage of the church whenever she became pure enough to produce this vigorous growth of faith required to ensure these manifestations. This faith was taught by Christ and exemplified by himself and the apostles.

Again, all the Christian fathers, certainly down to the end of the third century, affirm the continuation of these gifts; and they maintain their assertion by well authenticated facts in church history. But in succeeding ages, when the mass of Christians had become corrupted by worldly materialism and carnal-mindedness, these gifts became more and more rarely manifested, and were mostly confined to the humble few who adhered more tenaciously to the primitive faith and practice.

Yet instances have occurred among some distinguished teachers of Christianity. So late as the year 1821 Rev. Prince Hohenlohe, of Wurtenberg, Germany, a distinguished divine, after preaching to immense crowds, commenced to perform miracles. To the astonishment of the populace, he made the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to walk, and the paralytics to be cured; and in a short time no less than thirty-six persons were restored to health, from a state of hopeless infirmity. This he did by his prayers and a firm confidence in God's power.

Another fact nearer home. About twenty years since I heard of a woman in Chesterfield, New Hampshire, who exhibited the power of discerning spirits, by telling at first sight the true character of entire strangers, as correctly as if she had always known them. But to come still nearer home. Have we not seen those who could instinctively read persons at first sight? and others who have a kind of prevision of what is about to take place, and they even act upon it with a kind of certainty that it would take place, for their experience had assured them that it could be relied upon as prophetic.

I once heard of a physician who had this foresight to such a degree as enabled him, in many instances, to save life, by acting in accordance with it. For instance, he once, while riding home, felt an impression that he was needed in a certain street; and following the impression, he went directly there, and found a man who had just been thrown from his horse, and in such a situation that unless surgical help were, immediately applied, he must have died. And many times he had left his bed at midnight to visit his patients, guided only by these impressions, and thus saved the lives of many of his patients.

This kind of discernment is a gift higher than reason; and may it not be possible that they are of the nature of these spiritual gifts, and are but the incipient developments of a law of our spiritual nature as yet undeveloped, on which these gifts are founded, which is to be the fulfillment of Joel's prophecy?

OBJECTION FIRST. -- Mrs. Dixon objected that since the power of working miracles is included among these gifts, she concluded they must be confined to the apostolic age, since the day of miracles is past. I reply, if the term miracle must mean only a suspension of a law of nature, or contrary to nature, I think with her, that the day is past for such manifestations. But, if it may bear the interpretation which men of talent and ability put upon it -- viz: that a miracle signifies, and implies a supernatural power, meaning a power acting in harmony with a higher than natural law, I think they may, and still do continue. The law by which these supernatural events take place is unknown to us, and may be beyond our present ability to comprehend. For example, had we never seen or known that a caterpillar could be changed into a butterfly, we should call it a miracle. The facts occurring daily on the telegraphic wires would have been considered miracles to past generations. So of eclipses, which were regarded as miracles, until the law of eclipses was discovered. And I think it will continue to be a fact that supernatural events will continue to take place, because they are the result of laws on a plane of which we are as yet ignorant. I believe these spiritual gifts are all controlled by established laws of our spiritual existence, of which we are at present comparatively ignorant. I fully believe God never acts except in harmony with established laws, and is never compelled to break these laws to bring about his purposes.

OBJECTION SECOND. -- Deacon Merrick objected, that if this was the true view, all who believe must have this power; and since none do have it as he thought, therefore there can be no true Christianity in the church.

I reply, that I do not think this a legitimate conclusion -- that because all do not have this power, therefore none do. Would Deacon Merrick say that because all the blossoms of the apple-tree do not perfect into perfect, sound, ripe apples, therefore none do; or that there are no apples at all? Or would he rather say, that each blossom has in it the germ of the mature, sound apple, which will naturally be developed into fruit, unless some accident occurs to prevent it? So all who have any degree of saving faith, have that in them which will ultimately perfect into this vigorous faith, and bring forth some of these perfected fruits or spiritual gifts. This faith is the natural outgrowth of human nature -- that is, it has that universal principle of human nature, viz: trust or confidence, for its foundation to rest upon. We can no more get faith without this principle of human nature to build it upon, than we can get apples without soil to support the tree; and no more is the soil a sinful article because it is natural, than is human nature sinful because it is natural. Both the nature, and the precious germinated spiritual fruits upon it, are part of God's well done work, and therefore are both equally good in their places. But for lack of proper cultivation, this kind of fruit is rarely brought to perfection in this life.

Another illustration. I once heard the Rev. Joseph Cooper, a Congregational minister, of Salem, Iowa, relate the following fact, which took place when he served on board a vessel, on the coast of Norway. His captain found himself utterly unable to navigate the ship through a very dangerous channel between an island and the main land. A pilot on board seeing the very dangerous condition they were in, volunteered his services to the captain, assuring him he could take the ship safely through. The captain accepted the offer, although not without some misgivings as to the ability of this stranger pilot. But confident he could not guide it himself, he felt compelled to accept the offer. Consequently he resigned his ship entirely to this pilot's control, and directed his men to follow all this new pilot's directions.

The pilot accepted his charge, and commenced by reversing all the captain's orders, and headed the ship towards the breakers on shore. This aroused the captain's fears. Still he could do nothing but submit. But very soon his fears became so much aroused, in view of their approach towards the breakers, that he ventured to tell his pilot that they were going into the breakers. "I know it!" was his only reply, and still approached the breakers. The captain expostulated with him three times, and each time received the same answer, "I know it!" For a time the captain paced the deck in agony, wringing his hands, until at length becoming desperate, he determined to take the ship into his own hands, confident that his professed pilot was unworthy of confidence, and was just in the act of doing so, when, behold! the pilot turned the ship about, and soon brought it out of all danger. He afterwards found that the pilot had turned the ship at just the point, and the only point, where it could be done without being wrecked, for there was a narrow channel of rocks beneath, which the pilot knew how to follow; but the least deviation from that course would have been destruction to the ship, and an attempt to turn before the right point was reached would have been not only impossible, but certain destruction.

Now this captain had only just faith enough in his pilot to save him. He did not have that degree of faith needed to raise him entirely above his fears, in view of dangers so apparent to his reason. This degree of faith demanded the exercise of even a higher faculty than his reason, for it apparently conflicted with reason. But gospel faith, in its highest exercise, never conflicts with reason, although it sometimes transcends reason. But the different gradations of faith, from the mere saving faith to that all-conquering faith, which allays all anxiety and solicitude, under the most adverse circumstances, depends upon the different organizations and surroundings which determine its development and growth. And all these manifold variations and gradations are ultimately to perfect into that sound and vigorous faith which Christ inculcated, and is the stock upon which all these spiritual gifts germinate into natural fruit.

QUESTIONS FOR THE CLASS.

The following are some of the questions I proposed to the class for discussion, some of which were allowed to be discussed, and many were not:

1. Do true Christians die with unrepented sins upon them?

2. Does death, which is merely a natural law of the body, affect the spirit; or does the extinction of merely animal life produce any change in our spiritual life?

3. Is it not the spirit that repents?

4. Why then cannot the spirit repent when disconnected from the body?

5. Does the truth ever change?

6. Can people have a difference of opinion on the same subject, and yet all be correct?

7. What causes this diversity of belief?

8. Will all equally good people see the truth in just the same light?

9. How ought we to treat those who we think teach error?

10. Should we accede to the errorist the same right of opinion we do the advocates of truth?

11. Are we to expect new moral truths to be developed at the present day, since the canon of scripture is complete?

12. Does progress in knowledge necessarily imply a change of views?

13. Is not the platform of common sense the platform for a common religion to stand upon?

14. Are bigotry and intolerance confined to any one church, or is this "Great Beast" found in all churches?

15. Can there be "one Lord, one faith, one baptism," without a mutual yielding of sectarian views among all denominations of Christians?

16. Have we any reason to expect that a Christian farmer, as a Christian, will be any more successful in his farming operations than an impenitent sinner? or, in other words, does the motive with which we prosecute our secular business, have anything to do with the pecuniary results? And if not, how is godliness profitable?

If any of my readers would like to see my answer to the sixteenth question, I could refer them to my second volume, where they will find it in connection with a full account of my jury trial before Judge Starr, of Kankakee city, where my sanity was vindicated; and my persecution is there demonstrated to be the triumph of bigotry over the republican principles of free religious toleration.

This trial was not allowed me until after an imprisonment of three years, when, by the decision of the court, it was found that I had not been insane, and thereby had been falsely imprisoned all this time. The way in which my incarceration was secured will be found in the following narrative of facts.

The First Volume delineates the facts of this Persecution from the time I was kidnapped -- through the period of my incarceration -- until I was returned an involuntary victim into the hands of my husband, with the prospect of being again imprisoned for life in an Asylum in Massachusetts.

It may be a satisfaction to the readers of this volume to know, that the facts herein stated have been authenticated and corroborated by the Illinois Investigating Committee, appointed by the Legislature of 1867, to investigate and report the result to the Governor; which they did on the 2d of December following. In this Report, the writer, with others, were acknowledged as competent witnesses in the following language, viz.:

"The Committee have entire confidence in the belief, that all these witnesses had a clear understanding, and comprehended, when examined, the obligations of the oath administered to them; and in an unusually intelligent manner testified to matters within their recollection, and were prudent and entirely honest, and testified to facts as they believed them to exist. Neither of them exhibited any appearance of a disordered intellect, moral obliquity, or defective memory and therefore, to reject their testimony, appeared to the Committee as calculated to defeat an investigation after the truth, and possibly subvert the ends of public justice."

The object of the First Volume is to delineate the internal management of Insane Asylums on their present basis, for the purpose of educating the public mind into the imperative necessity of a radical change in the treatment of the insane. And this effort is to be followed by an appeal to the State Legislatures for laws to meet and remedy the evils herein portrayed.

The Second Volume continues this narrative of events, by detailing my imprisonment at my own house -- my escape by the application of the Habeas Corpus -- my loss of home, property and children -- my attempts to defend my own rights -- the success of my struggle in getting the laws of those States so changed that the personal liberty, property and children of married women are now protected by law in Massachusetts, Illinois and Iowa -- the nine years work of getting my children -- the re-united family -- bringing the narrative down to the present time, when the family are again dispersed, leaving me free to prosecute the work of securing such laws in all the States as will protect the inmates of Insane Asylums, and Married Women from the abuse of autocratic power.

This entire narrative affords a striking illustration of the legal disabilities of the insane and married women, both of which are caused by the legalized use of an autocratic power. They therefore both require the same remedy, which is -- legislation -- such as will hold the Husband and Superintendent both amenable to the laws of this Republic in the exercise of their legal power over the wife and the insane patient.

Let the Government but remove this legalized usurpation of human rights, and the great cause of Modern Persecution, as delineated in the subsequent narrative, will be effectually removed.

MODERN PERSECUTION.

CHAPTER I.
The Bible-Class.

I am a native of Massachusetts, the only daughter of an orthodox clergyman of the congregational denomination, and the wife of a congregational clergyman, who was preaching to a Presbyterian church in Manteno, Kankakee County, Illinois, at the time my legal prosecution commenced. At this time my husband's name became enrolled among the Chicago Presbytery as a Presbyterian clergyman.

My maiden name was Elizabeth Parsons Ware, born December 28, 1816, at Ware, Hampshire County, Massachusetts. My husband, Rev. Theophilus Packard, born February 1, 1802, at Shelburne, Franklin County, Massachusetts. We were married May 21, 1839.

At the time I was kidnapped I had lived with my husband twenty-one years. We had six children, five of whom were boys, and one girl. Our oldest child, Theophilus, was at this time eighteen years of age, and our youngest, Arthur, an infant of eighteen months. All of the children, except the oldest, were living at home at the time their mother was kidnapped.

I have been educated a Calvinist after the strictest sect; but as my reasoning faculties have been developed by a thorough scientific education, I have been led, by the simple exercise of my own reason and common sense, to endorse theological views in conflict with my educated belief and the creed of the church with which I am connected.

In short, from my present standpoint. I cannot but believe that the doctrine of total depravity conflicts with the dictates of reason, common sense and the Bible. And the only offence my persecutors claim I have committed, is, that I have dared to be true to these my honest convictions, and to give utterance to these views in a Bible-class in Manteno, Kankakee County, Illinois.

But their popular endorsement by this class, and the community generally, led my husband and his calvinistic church to fear lest their church creed might suffer serious detriment by this license of private judgment and free inquiry; and as these liberal views emanated from his own family, and he, declining to meet me upon the open arena of argument and free discussion, chose rather to use the marital power which the common law of marriage licenses him to use over my identity, and under a very unjust statute law in Illinois, then in force, he got me imprisoned in Jacksonville Insane Asylum without evidence of insanity and without any trial, hoping, as he told me, that by this means he could destroy my moral influence and thereby defend the cause of Christ as he felt bound to do.

About four months previous to my incarceration for religious belief, I received a most cordial invitation from Deacon Dole, the teacher of this Bible-class, that I join his class and present my views for their consideration; for, said he:

"I find it impossible to awaken any interest in the study of the Bible; and since you, Sister Packard, have some views a little different from our own, I wish you would bring them forward, and see if we can't get up an interest in our class."

As Mr. Packard was present, I referred this request to him for a reply, and he remarked, "I think you had better go, wife, and see if you can help him -- I will take care of the babe during the intermission, so you can be free to go."

I accordingly consented, and the next Sabbath I was found among his pupils, who then numbered only six men in all. I had not the least suspicion of danger or harm arising in any way, either to myself or others, from thus complying with his wishes, and thus uttering some of my honestly cherished opinions. I regarded the principle of religious toleration as the vital principle on which our government was based, and I, in my ignorance, supposed this right was protected to all American citizens, even to the wives of clergymen. But, alas! my own sad experience has taught me the danger of believing a lie on so vital a question.

Mr. Dole allowed his pupils to be regarded as mutual teachers, so that all were allowed to ask questions and offer suggestions. Availing myself of this license, others were encouraged to follow my example, so that our class soon became the place of animating discussions, and as our tolerant teacher allowed both sides of a question to be discussed I found it became to me a great source of pleasure and profit. Indeed, I never can recollect a time when my mind grew into a knowledge of religious truths faster, than under the influence of these free and animated discussions.

The effect of these debates was felt throughout the whole community, so that our class of seven soon increased to forty-six, including the most influential members of the community.

About this time a latent suspicion seemed to be aroused, lest the church creed be endangered by this license of free inquiry and fair discussion; and a meeting of some of the leading church members was called, wherein this Bible-class was represented as being a dangerous influence, involving the exposure of the creed to the charge of fallibility.

To prevent this, it was agreed that the tolerant Deacon Dole must be exchanged for the intolerant Deacon Smith in order that free discussion might be effectually put down. And Deacon Smith suggested, that the way to put down free discussion was, to put down Mrs. Packard!

This he engaged to do, in case they would install him as teacher. This being done, the battle commenced, and I found our license had expired with our kind teacher's resignation. Ignorant as I was of this conspiracy against the right of private opinions, I continued to use this God-given right, as my judgment and conscience dictated, until I found, by open opposition, that it was the express object of the change, to abolish all expression of any views which did not harmonize with the Presbyterian Church creed. I knew and felt that it was their determination to fetter me, and bring me into unquestioning acknowledgment of their doctrines, as the sum total of all important truths.

Of course I could not do this, and be honest to myself; but from this point, I had the precaution to put into a written form, every idea I uttered in conflict with what Deacon Smith thought orthodox views, so as to avoid being misrepresented; and I almost uniformly read these papers to Mr. Packard, before presenting them to the class, and secured from him his consent to my reading them.

This digested form of presenting my ideas, tended to increase rather than diminish the interest in favor of my new views, so that finally after Mr. Packard had given his consent to my reading my articles, Mr. Smith would refuse to have them read.

Up to this point, Mr. Packard acted the man, and the Christian, in his treatment of me. But now came the fatal crisis when evil influences overcame him!

One afternoon Deacon Smith visited him in his study, and held a secret interview with him of two hours length, when he left him a different man. That evening just before retiring to rest, he remarked in a very pleasant tone:

"Wife, I want to talk with you a little while, come here!"

I went into his extended arms, and sat upon his lap, and encircled his neck with my arm, when he remarked in a very mild tone of voice:

"Now, wife, hadn't you better give up these Bible-class discussions? Deacon Smith thinks you had better, and so do some others, and I think you had better too."

"Husband, I should be very glad to get rid of the responsibility if I can do so honorably, but I do not like to yield a natural right to the dictation of bigotry and intolerance, as Deacon Smith demands; but I am willing to say to the class that as Deacon Smith, and Mr. Packard, and others, have expressed a wish that I withdraw my discussions from the class, I do so, at their request, not from any desire to shrink from investigation on my part, but for the sake of peace, as they view it."

"No, wife, that won't do -- you must resign yourself."

"Won't that be resigning, and that too on a truthful basis?"

"No, you must tell them it is your choice to give them up."

"But, dear, it is not my choice!"

"But you can make it so, under the circumstances."

"Yes, I can make it so, by stating the truth; but I can't by telling a lie."

"Well, you must do it!"

"O husband! how can you yield to such an evil influence? Only think! Here you have pledged before God and man that you will be my protector, until death part us, and now you are tempted to become my persecutor! Do be a man, and go to the class, in defiance of Deacon Smith, and say to the class:

"My wife has just as good a right to her opinions as you have to yours, and I shall protect her in that right. You need not believe her opinions unless you choose; but she has a right to defend her honest opinions as well as yourselves. I shall not suffer her to be molested in this right.

"Then you will be a man -- a protector of your wife and you will deserve honor, and you will have it. But if you become my persecutor and go against me, as Deacon Smith desires, you will deserve dishonor, and you will surely get it. Don't fall into this fatal snare, which the evil one has surely laid for you."

He construed my earnestness into anger, and thrust me from him, determining to risk this result at all hazards.

From that fatal time, all good influences seemed to have forsaken him, and he left to pursue his downward way, with no power to resist evil or flee from the tempter. Reason, conscience, judgment, prudence, consistency and affection, all, all directly sunk into the fatal sleep of stupidity or death.

From that point, I have never had a protector in my husband. He has only been my persecutor! In a few weeks from that time, he forcibly entombed me within the massive walls of Jacksonville Asylum prison, to rise no more, if he could prevent it. He told me he did this, to give the impression that I was insane, so that my opinions need not be believed, for, said he, "I must protect the cause of Christ!"

CHAPTER II.
Evil Forebodings.

About three weeks before my incarceration, Mr. Packard came to my room and made me a proposition for withdrawing from the class. Said he:

"Wife, wouldn't you like to visit your brother in Batavia?"

"I should like it very well, if it is not running from my post of duty."

"You have not only a perfect right to go, but I think it is your duty to go and get recruited."

"Very well, then, I will go with the greatest pleasure. But how long do you think I had better make my visit?"

"Three months."

"Three months! Can you get along without me three months? and what will the children do for their summer clothes without me to make them?"

"I will see to that matter; you must stay three months, or not go at all."

"Well, I am sure I can stand it to rest that length of time, if you can stand it without my services. So I will go. But I must take my baby and daughter with me, as they have not fully recovered from their influenzas, and I should not dare to trust them away from me."

"Yes, you may take them."

"I will then prepare myself and them to go just as soon as you see fit to send us. Another thing, husband. I shall want ten dollars of my patrimoney money to take with me for spending money."

"That you can't have."

"Why not? I shall need as much as that, to be absent three months -- with two sick children. I may need to call a doctor to them; and besides, my brother is poor, and I am rich, comparatively, and I might need some extra food, such as a beefsteak, or something of the kind, and I should not like to ask him for it. And besides, I have your written promise that I may have my own money whenever I want it, and I do want ten dollars of it now; and I think it is no unreasonable amount to take with me."

"I don't think it is best to let you have any. I shan't trust you with money."

"Shan't trust me with money! Why not? Have I ever abused this trust? Do not I always give you an exact account of every cent I spend? And I will this time do so; and besides, if you cannot trust me, I will put it into brother's hands as soon as I get there, and not spend a cent but by his permission."

"No, I shall not consent to that."

"One thing more I will suggest. You know the Batavia people owe you twelve dollars for preaching one Sabbath, and you can't get your pay. Now, supposing brother 'duns' and gets it, may I use this money if I should chance to need it in an emergency? and if I should not need any, I won't use a cent of it. Or, I will write home to you and ask permission of you before spending a dollar of it."

"No, you shall neither have any money, nor have the control of any, for I can't trust you with any."

"Well, husband, if I can't be trusted with ten dollars of my own money under these circumstances, I should not think I was capable of being trusted with two sick children three months away from home, wholly dependent on a poor brother's charities. Indeed. I had rather stay at home and not go at all, than go under such circumstances."

"You shall not go at all!" replied he, in a most excited, angry tone of voice. "You shall go into an asylum."

"Why, husband, I did not suspect such an alternative. I had rather go to him penniless and clotheless even, than go into an asylum!"

"You have lost your last chance. You shall go into an asylum!"

Knowing the inflexibility of purpose which characterized my husband, I knew there was no refuge for me in an appeal to his humanity, his reason or his affection, for a commutation of my sentence. I therefore laid my case before our kind neighbor, Mr. Comstock, who professed to be a kind of lawyer, and sought his counsel and advice.

Said he: "Mrs. Packard, you have nothing to fear. It is impossible for your husband to get you into any insane asylum; for before he can do this, you must have a jury trial; and I can assure you there is no jury in the country who would pronounce you to be an insane person, for you give every evidence of intelligence that any person can give."

As this Mr. Comstock had been a constant attendant at our Bible-class for some time past, and had thereby heard and seen all the evidence which could be brought against me; and as he professed to understand the law on this point, this unqualified and positive assertion served to quiet my fears and anxious forebodings to a considerable degree. But had Mr. Comstock known the law as it then was, he could not have made this assertion. He probably took it for granted that the common principles of justice characterized the Illinois statute laws, viz: that all its citizens should be allowed a trial before imprisonment; but being mistaken on this point, he blindly led me astray from the truth.

Had I known what Mr. Packard knew, of the legal power which the law gave the husband to control the identity of the wife, I should not have been thus deceived. I did not then know what I now do, that married women and infants were excepted in the application of this principle of common justice. This class were not only allowed to be imprisoned by their husbands or guardians without any trial, or without any chance at self-defence whatever, but were also expressly licensed to imprison them in an insane asylum without evidence of insanity!

Not knowing that Illinois had legalized this mode of kidnapping the married women of their State, I had no idea that my personal liberty depended entirely upon the will or wishes of my husband.

I therefore returned home with a feeling of comparative security, trusting and supposing that upon the principles of our free government of religious toleration, my rights of conscience, and rights of opinion were respected and protected by law, in common with those of other American citizens.

Still, believing that a most strenuous effort would be made to fasten the stigma of insanity upon me, by my opponents in religious belief, I now began to consider what my plea of self-defence must be when arraigned for trial on insanity, based upon what they regarded as heresy.

But while my mind was cogitating my plea, and my hands were busily employed in my domestic duties, I could not help noticing many singular manifestations in Mr. Packard's conduct towards me.

One was from the time my sentence was pronounced, Mr. Packard left my bed without giving me any reason for this singular act, and he seemed peculiarly determined to evade all, and every inquiry into his reasons for so doing. Still I insisted upon knowing whether it was because of anything I had done which led him thus to forsake me.

He assured me it was not -- adding:

"You have always been kind, and true and faithful to me."

While this truthful acknowledgment afforded a kind of relief to my feelings, it only served to increase the mystery of the affair still more, and even to this day this mystery has never been solved in my mind. The only reason he ever gave me was, "I think it is best!"

Another thing, he removed my medicine box containing our family herbs and cordials, from my nursery into his sleeping apartment, and when I found it necessary one night to give my little Georgie some lobelia to relieve him from spasmodic croup, I was obliged to seek for it, and finding it under his bed instead of its accustomed place, I inquired why he had made that arrangement, and received the same mysterious reply, "I think it is best!"

Another thing, he seemed unaccountably considerate of my health, insisting upon it that I should have a hired girl to help me. This arrangement surprised me, all the more, because I had so often been refused this favor, when I had asked for it at times when I thought I needed it within a few past years.

I however found it very easy and pleasant to concur with this arrangement, which afforded me more uninterrupted time and thought to devote to my plea.

But there was one thing about it which I did not like, and that was, to dismiss my girl, just when I had got her well learned how to do my work, without giving any reason whatever, either to me or my girl, for this strange conduct. But I afterwards found out the reason for dismissing her was, because she had remarked to a neighbor of ours that:

"I can't see what Mr. Packard does mean by calling his wife insane; for she is the kindest and best woman I ever saw. I never worked for so kind a mistress."

But his summary manner of disposing of my good, kind, faithful French Catholic girl, and supplying her place with one of his own church members, an opponent to me in argument, and she the eldest daughter of the most aristocratic family in the place, was very peculiar.

This aristocratic Miss Sarah Rumsey, was introduced into my family as a dinner guest, on whom I bestowed all the attention of the hostess until after dinner, when my girl came to the parlor to bid me "good bye," saying with tears:

"Mr. Packard has dismissed me."

"Dismissed you! For what?"

"I don't know -- he simply told me to get my things and leave, that my services were no longer wanted in his family."

While I was trying to comfort her under this uncivil discharge, Miss Rumsey stepped up and volunteered her services as "my help."

"My help! have you come here to be my hired girl?" said I, in amazement.

"Yes, I am willing to help you."

"But I wish to understand you -- has Mr. Packard secured your services as my hired servant?"

"Yes, Mrs. Packard, I have come for that purpose."

"Very well, then, I will set you to work, and you may look to him for your wages."

She then followed me into the kitchen, where I gave her my instructions, and then I retired to my parlor, leaving her to take her first lesson in practical service in her beloved pastor's kitchen.

During her term of service, which lasted until I was kidnapped, about one week from this time, I frequently caught Mr. Packard and Miss Rumsey and Mrs. Sybil Dole, his sister, in most earnest conversation, which was always carried on in a whisper whenever I was within hearing distance, and my presence seemed always to evoke manifestations of guilt on their part. I think the theme of conversation at these clandestine interviews was, my abduction and how it should be secured.

My children now became almost my only companions and counselors. The three youngest slept with me, so that I had their company both night as well as day. I expressed to them my fears that I might yet be forced away from them, always assuring them that no power but force should separate me from them.

They always responded "they will have to break my arms to get them loose from their grasp upon you, Mother, if they try to steal our dear mamma from us!"

Fidelity to the truth requires me to state, however, that Mr. Packard did succeed in gaining a temporary influence over the mind of my son, Samuel, of thirteen years, so far as to induce him to go against me -- taking his own confession as proof -- for his conduct towards me, and mine towards him, remained unchanged. At this age, his impulses rather than his reason controlled his actions. He was a very impulsive, and still a very affectionate child, of a very nervous and excitable temperament. The heart of this dear child, at this age, was at times the chosen battlefield for severe contests between the extremes of good and evil influences. Thus was he sadly exposed to become victimized by the great psychological power of his father.

Three times during the last few weeks preceding my kidnapping were my slumbers disturbed, by this darling child coming in his night-clothes to my bedside, about midnight, and, while pressing his tearful cheek against my own, with his arms encircling my neck, amid his sobbing and tears, would whisper in the softest tones:

"Mother, won't you forgive me? I have been doing wrong -- I have been telling lies about you -- and I can't sleep till you forgive me."

"Why did you do so, my child?"

"Because father hired me to say so -- and he said it was not wrong -- but when I think of it alone, I know it is wrong -- and I can't sleep until you kiss me, and say you forgive me."

"Yes, darling, mother will forgive you, most cheerfully, for I see you are sorry, and are willing to promise me you won't do so any more, are you not?"

"Yes, mother, I will promise I won't do so any more."

"Now, darling, dry up your tears -- and quiet your little feelings -- and go to sleep, with mother's blessing."

With a light heart would he then imprint his good-night kiss upon my cheek, and with an elastic step would he grope his way back up stairs to his bed-chamber to sleep the calm, quiet sleep of the penitent child, now that his conscience was relieved of its heavy burden.

When he came the third time, I asked him why he had broken his promise again.

He replied, "father paid me more money to-day; and made me think it was not wrong to do as he told me to do."

"What did he tell you to do?"

"To tell lies about you, mother."

The mother is thankful that the truth will allow her to add, that, as the moral faculties of Samuel developed his individuality of character, the good influences secured an almost undisputed possession of the citadel of his fond heart, and he has long since become the noble champion of his mother's cause.

But the filial influence Mr. Packard most feared to cope with, was my second son, Isaac, then sixteen years old. My oldest son, Theophilus, was then at Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Isaac communicated to Theophilus the dangers he feared impending over his mother. Theophilus responded, pledging himself that should his dear mother ever be put into an Insane Asylum, he should never rest until he had liberated her. Isaac agreed to this same pledge of untiring devotion to his dear mother's welfare.

During these ominous days of solicitude and painful forebodings, this tender hearted and devoted son would never leave for his work in Mr. Comstock's store, without first coming to my room, and, as he would imprint a most loving kiss upon my lips, he would whisper:

"Don't feel bad, mother! keep up good courage -- I shall do all I can for you."

And he did do all he could to stem the rising current, by rallying influences in my defence. Quite a number of volunteers gave him their pledge that his mother never should leave that depot for an Insane Asylum; but unfortunately, his father became acquainted with this fact, and to prevent any co-operation with his mother in the execution of any of his plans for my deliverance, he issued his mandate that Isaac should not speak to his mother for one week.

Not knowing that such an injunction had been laid upon him, I accosted him from my window on his return from his store, and as usual, inquired after his health. He had been my patient for some weeks past, having spit blood several times during this time, and of course I felt a deep solicitude for his health; and now when he answered me only by the pressure of his fore-finger upon his closed lips, and a significant shake of his head, I became alarmed, and anxiously inquired:

"Can't you speak?"

A shake of the head was his only response.

I rushed to the door to meet him, to ascertain what had happened, where we met my only darling daughter of ten years, whom we all called "Sister," to whom he said:

"Sister, I want you should tell mother that father has forbid my speaking to her for one week, and that is the reason I can't answer her questions."

"But how is your breast, my son?"

"Sister, I want you should tell mother it is worse; I have spit more blood to-day.

In this manner, with my daughter for our medium, I administered to his physical wants and spiritual comfort for one week, which term expired one day before my abduction. During this time he never failed to come to my room or to the window before leaving, to bestow upon my lips his loving kiss of silent, undying affection.

A few days previous to my seizure, Mrs. Dole and Mr. Packard tried to prevail upon me to let her take my darling babe home with her for a few days, to rest me from my night watches with my sick children, to which I foolishly consented, supposing this offer was only dictated by affection and sympathy for me. I soon became impatient for my babe, and Mr. Packard allowed me to go to Mr. Dole's with him to see Arthur, but would not allow me to bring him home with me. They must keep him a day or two longer! I must consent to take a few more nights of good sound sleep before I could embrace my darling babe once more!

Alas! this was the final parting with my precious darling infant, weaned from the breast but three months before.

His little arms could hardly be unclasped from my neck, to which he seemed to cling instinctively; with the tenderest affection he would press his soft cheek against mine, and say:

"Dear mamma! Dear mamma!"

These were the only words he could articulate. O! little did I suspect this was a treacherous act of false affection, to steal from me my darling babe.

But so it proved to be!

This was Saturday. On Sabbath they stole from me my only daughter, by a similar act of hypocrisy. After meeting Sabbath evening, the Rumsey carriage called at our door and claimed the privilege of taking my daughter home with them to visit her intimate friend and school-mate, the youngest Rumsey. They plead that her health needed a change, and she could come home any day I chose; and in answer to my inquiry:

"Has this anything to do with my being taken off?"

They all with united voices, insisted that it had not, adding:

"This is not our most distant thought."

I at length reluctantly consented to her going, and we too, parted for the last time before my abduction, little suspecting it to be so. But as we were embracing each other for the last time, she whispered in my ear:

"Mother, if there are any signs of taking you away, you will let me know, won't you?"

"Certainly I will, my daughter, you may rely upon your mother's promise in this thing. So set your heart at rest, and enjoy yourself as best you can."

And we parted!

That night I had no one to caress but my darling Georgie, of seven years, who was now nearly recovered from his lung fever. But from some unknown cause, sleep was not easily courted that night. Usually my sleep was sound, quiet and refreshing. Sleepless, wakeful nights were unknown to me. But now some evil forebodings assured me all was not right.

About midnight I arose and silently sought Mr. Packard's room, to see if I could make any discoveries as to the aspect of things. Here instead of being in his bed, I found him noiselessly searching through all my trunks and bandboxes. What could this mean? Without his observing me, I went back to my bed, there to consider this question.

Before morning my suspicions assumed a tangible form. I summoned Isaac early to my bedside, to tell him I was sure arrangements were being made to carry me off somewhere, and therefore I wished him without delay to go and get "Sister" home, as I promised to send for her in case of any appearances of this kind.

He replied, "Mother, I will do so; but I must first go of an errand on to the prairie for Mr. Comstock, and then I will return to the house and take you to ride with me to Mr. Rumsey's and get Sister."

"Yes, that will do: we will go by brother Dole's too, and get my baby. I will be all ready when you return, to go with you."

"One thing more, my son, I may need your assistance in preserving my Bible-class papers. Last night I put them into a small box, and hid them in the wardrobe of my room, where they now are. Now, my son, these papers may be your mother's only means of self-defence, and unless we can evade Mr. Packard's search, he may deprive your mother of this last and only means of vindicating her sanity. If, my son, I am ever kidnapped and you cannot defend me, be sure that you protect these papers, for they are next to defending me, so far as my reputation for sanity is concerned. I intend to-day to put a pocket into my underskirt and carry them about my person."

"I will certainly regard your request and protect your papers."

Saying this, he kissed me and left, reassuring me he would soon be back and take me to ride to Mr. Rumsey's.

This was our parting!

Little George, ever ready to serve me, ran out into the dewy grass and picked a saucer of ripe strawberries and brought them to my room, saying as he handed them to me:

"I have picked some strawberries for your breakfast, mother;" and he had hardly time to receive his mother's thanks, when his father called him out to the door, and with extended hand said:

"Come, George, won't you go with father to the store and get some sugar-plums?"

Glad as any boy of his age to get sugar-plums, he, of course, readily went with his father to get his plums, and also to get a ride too with his brother off on the prairie!

This was our parting scene!

Thus had my children been abducted, to prepare the way for the mother's abduction. And now the fatal hour had come that I must be transported into my living tomb.

CHAPTER III.
My Abduction.

Early on the morning of the 18th of June, 1860, as I arose from my bed, preparing to take my morning bath, I saw my husband approaching my door with our two physicians, both members of his church and our Bible-class -- and a stranger gentleman, Sheriff Burgess.

Fearing exposure, I hastily locked my door, and proceeded with the greatest despatch to dress myself. But before I had hardly commenced, my husband forced an entrance into my room through the window with an axe! And I, for shelter and protection against an exposure in a state of entire nudity, sprang into bed, just in time to receive my unexpected guests.

The trio approached my bed, and each doctor felt my pulse, and without asking a single question both pronounced me insane! Of course, my pulse was bounding at the time from excessive fright; and I ask, what lady of refinement and fine and tender sensibilities would not have a quickened pulse by such an untimely, unexpected, unmanly, and even outrageous entrance into her private sleeping room? I say it would be impossible for any woman, unless she was either insane or insensible to her surroundings, not to be agitated under such circumstances.

This was the only medical examination I had. This was the only trial of any kind I was allowed to have, to prove the charge of insanity brought against me by my husband to be a false charge. I had no chance for self-defence whatever.

My husband then informed me that the "forms of law" were all complied with, and he now wished me to dress for a ride to Jacksonville insane asylum!

I then asked the privilege of having my room vacated so that I might bathe myself, as usual, before dressing; intending to then secure about my person, secretly, my Bible-class documents, as all I had said in defence of my opinions was in writing, lest I be misrepresented. I therefore regarded these documents as my only means of defence, and had resorted to this innocent stratagem to secure them; that is, I did not tell Mr. Packard that I had any other reason for being left alone in my room than the one I gave him.

But he refused me this request, saying:

"I do not think it is best to leave you alone in your room."

He doubtless had the same documents in view, intending thus to keep me from getting them, for he ordered Miss Rumsey to be my lady's maid, as a spy upon my actions. I dared not attempt to get them with her eye upon me lest she take them from me, or report me to Mr. Packard, and thus not only defeat my attempt, but also by revealing their place of concealment, would prevent Isaac from securing them for me, as he had promised to do in case I should be kidnapped.

I resolved upon one more strategy as my last and only hope, and this was, to ask to be left alone long enough to pray in my own room once more before being forced from it into my prison. When, therefore, I was all dressed, ready to be kidnapped, I asked to see my dear little ones to bestow upon them my parting kiss.

But he denied me this favor also.

"Then," said I, can I bear such trials as these without God's help? May I not be allowed, husband, to ask this favor of God alone in my room before being thus exiled from it?"

"No," said he," I don't think it is best to let you be alone in your room."

"O! husband," said I," you have allowed me no chance for my secret devotions this morning; can't I be allowed this one last request?"

"No; I do not think it is best. But you may pray with your door open."

I asked the Sheriff if I might not be alone in my room a few minutes.

He replied, "I do not think it is best."

I then kneeled down in my room, with my bonnet and shawl on, and in the presence and the hearing of the sheriff and the conspirators, I offered up my petition in an audible voice, wherein I laid my burdens before my sympathizing Saviour, as I would have done in secret. Miss Rumsey reports that the burden of my prayer was for Mr. Packard's forgiveness. In fact, if I know anything of my own heart, I do know that it did not cherish a single feeling of resentment towards him. But my soul was burdened with a sense of his guilt, and only desired his pardon and forgiveness.

My husband then ordered two of his church members to take me up in their arms and carry me to the wagon, and thence to the cars, in spite of my lady-like protests, and regardless of all my entreaties for some sort of trial before commitment.

I made no physical resistance to this order, but told my husband I should not go voluntarily into an asylum, and leave my six children, and my precious babe, without some kind of trial.

He replied, "I am doing as the laws of Illinois allow me to do. You have no protection in law but myself, and I am protecting you now! It is for your good I am doing this; I want to save your soul! You don't believe in total depravity, and I want to make you right."

"Husband, have I not a right to my opinion?"

"Yes; you have a right to your opinions if you think right."

"But does not the Constitution defend the right of private judgment to all American citizens?"

"Yes, to all citizens it does defend this right. But you are not a citizen; while a married woman, you are a legal nonentity, without even a soul in law. In short, you are dead as to any legal existence, while a married woman, and therefore have no legal protection as a married woman."

I could not then credit this statement, but now know it to be too sadly true, for the statute of Illinois expressly states that a man may put his wife into an insane asylum without evidence of insanity. The law now stands on 96th page, section 10, of Illinois statute -- book, under the general head of "Charities!" It was passed Feb. 15th, 1851, and reads thus:

"Married women and infants, who, in the judgment of the medical superintendent (meaning the Superintendent of the Illinois State Hospital for the Insane) are evidently insane or distracted, may be entered or detained in the hospital on the request of the husband of the woman or the guardian of the infant, without the evidence of insanity required in other cases."

Hon. S. S. Jones, of St. Charles, Illinois, thus remarks upon this Act: "Thus we see a corrupt husband, with money enough to corrupt a Superintendent, can get rid of a wife as effectually as was ever done in a more barbarous age. The Superintendent may be corrupted either with money or influence, that he thinks will give him position, place or emoluments. Is not this a pretty statute to be incorporated into our laws no more than thirteen years ago? Why not confine the husband at the instance of the wife, as well as the wife at the instance of the husband? The wife evidently had no voice in making the law.

"Who, being a man, and seeing this section in the Statute Book of Illinois, under the general head of 'Charities,' does not blush and hang his head for very shame at legislative perversion of so holy a term? I have no doubt, if the truth of the matter were known, this act was passed at the special instance of the Superintendent. A desire for power. I do not know why it has not been noted by me and others before.

"And we would also venture to inquire, what is a married woman's protection under such a Statute law? Is she not allowed counter testimony from a physician of her own choice, or can she not demand a trial of some kind, to show whether the charge of insanity brought against her is true or false?

"Nay, verily. The statute expressly states that the judgment of the medical Superintendent, to whom the husband's request is made, is all that is required for him to incarcerate his wife for any indefinite period of time. Neither she, her children, nor her relatives have any voice at all in the matter. Her imprisonment may be life-long, for anything she or her friends can do for her to prevent it. If the husband has money or influence enough to corrupt the officials, he can carry out his single wishes concerning her life-destiny.

"Are not the 'Divorce Laws' of Illinois made a necessity, to meet the demands of the wife, as her only refuge from this exposure to 'false imprisonment' for life in an insane asylum?"

This statute law thus coinciding with the nonentity principle of the common law, demonstrates the truth of Mr. Packard's statement.

Thus I learned my first lesson in that chapter of common law, which denies to married women a legal right to her own identity or individuality.

The scenes transpiring at the parsonage, were circulated like wild-fire throughout the village of Manteno, and crowds of men and boys were rapidly congregating at the depot, about one hundred rods distant from our house, not only to witness the scene, but fully determined to stand by their pledge to my son Isaac, that his mother should never leave Manteno depot for an insane asylum.

The long two-horse lumber wagon in which I was conveyed from my house to the depot, was filled with strong men as my body guard, including Mr. Packard, his deacons, and Sheriff Burgess, of Kankakee city, among their number. When our team arrived at the depot, Mr. Packard said to me:

"Now, wife, you will get out of the wagon yourself, won't you? You won't compel us to lift you out before such a large crowd, will you?"

"No, Mr. Packard, I shall not help myself into an asylum. It is you who are putting me there. I do not go willingly, nor with my own consent -- I am being forced into it against my protests to the contrary. Therefore, I shall let you show yourself to this crowd, just as you are -- my persecutor, instead of my protector. I shall make no resistance to your brute force claims upon my personal liberty -- I shall simply remain a passive victim, helpless in your power."

He then ordered his men to transport me from the wagon to the depot in their arms.

Before this order was executed, I addressed the sheriff in these words:

"Mr. Burgess, won't you please have the kindness to see that my person is handled gently, for I am easily hurt, and also see that my clothing is so adjusted as not to expose me immodestly, which with my hoops I fear you will find some difficulty in doing."

"I will heed your requests, Mrs. Packard," he kindly replied.

He then ordered two men into the wagon, to lift me from the board seat, which was placed across the top of the wagon, and hand me over the wheel, gently down into the arms of two men, who stood with outstretched arms below to receive me, and transport me into the "Ladies'-Room" at the depot.

This order was executed in as gentle and gentlemanly a manner as it could be done, while the faithful sheriff carefully adjusted my clothing as best he could, and I was landed upon a seat in the "Ladies'-Room."

I then thanked Mr. Burgess and my carriers for the kind manner in which they had executed my husband's order; and they left me, alone! to join the crowd on the platform.

I then arose, adjusted my dress and walked to the window, to see who were there assembled. I saw they were my friends and foes both, about equally divided, the countenances of all equally indicating great earnestness and deep emotion.

Soon Mr. Packard came alone into the room, and I resumed my seat when, bending over me, he addressed me in tones the most bland and gentle, as follows:

"Now wife, my dear! you will not make us carry you into the cars, will you? Do please just walk into them when they come, won't you, to please me! Do now, please me this once; won't you?"

Looking him full in the face, I said:

"Mr. Packard, I shall not. It is your own chosen work you are doing. I shall not help you do it. If I am put into the cars, it will not be my act that puts me there."

He then left me, and soon returned with Mr. Comstock at his side, when he said:

"Now, wife, Mr. Comstock thinks you had better walk into the cars, and you know you think a good deal of him; you will follow his advice, won't you?"

"Mr. Comstock is too much of a man to advise me to leave my dear little children, to go and be locked up in a prison without any trial. I know he would not advise any such thing."

Mr. Comstock then, without having spoken one word, left the room.

While these scenes in the Ladies'-room were being enacted, Deacon Dole was acting his part on the platform outside. Finding the crowd had assembled to defend me, and that they were determined I should never be forced into the cars, his conscience allowed him to be the bearer of a lie from Mr. Packard to the company, on the plea that the interests of his beloved pastor and the cause of the church required it as an act of self-defence. He therefore positively told them that Mr. Packard was pursuing a legal course in putting his wife into an Asylum-that the sheriff had legal papers with him to defend the proceeding, and if they resisted the sheriff, they would be liable to imprisonment themselves.

The crowd did not know that Deacon Dole was lying to them, when he said the sheriff had legal papers, for he had none at all, as the sheriff afterwards confessed-adding:

"I went to the Probate Court to take out my legal papers, and they would not give me any, because I could not bring forward any proof of insanity which could satisfy them that Mrs. Packard was insane. Therefore, I ventured to carry out Mr. Packard's wishes without any papers!"

Thus the "majesty of the law," added to the sacred dignity of the pulpit, so over-awed this feeling of manliness in these Mantenoites, that they dared not make a single effort in defence of me.

Therefore, when the engine whistle was heard, Deacon Dole found no obstacle in the way of taking me up in his arms, with the help of another man, and carrying me from the depot to my seat in the cars, except the difficulty of knowing how to take hold of me in a modest and gentlemanly manner.

I, however, soon solved this difficulty for him, by suggesting that two men make a "saddle-seat" with their four hands so united, that I could sit erect and easily upon it, between them both. This, with my assistance, they promptly did, and I quietly seated myself, while Mr. Burgess kindly arranged my wardrobe for me. While borne along on this human vehicle, by my manly (!) body guard, my elevated position afforded me a fine view of the sea of heads below me, and --

"What did I see?"

Ah! there was one little boy of thirteen years, with his straw hat drawn down over his face, as if to hide this spectacle from his sight, and with both hands to his face, crying piteously:

"Oh! Mother! Mother! do forgive me!"

It was my darling Samuel, the only one of my precious group whom his father was not compelled to abduct, to prevent his physical resistance in kidnapping his mother.

And while I imploringly and silently looked towards this crowd for that protection and help they had so confidently volunteered should be extended to me if needed, I looked in vain!" No man cared for my soul!"

Although Mrs. Blessing was walking the platform, wringing her hands in agony at the spectacle I presented, and in a loud voice, while the tears were streaming down her cheeks, she was imploring them to extend to me the help I needed, in these expressive words:

"Is there no man in this crowd to protect this woman? Will you let this mother be torn from her children and thrust into a prison in this style, with none to help her? O! is there no man among you? If I were a man, I would seize hold upon her!"

Mrs. Blessing's Lament.
One, one alone, stood by my side,
With pleading hands and voice she cried,
"Is there no help? Can no one here
Aid now our suffering sister dear?
Breathes there not here one mother's son
Who dares to aid this injured one?
Must she from her own sons be torn,
Her darling children left to mourn?
Crying in vain for mother dear

To wipe away the scalding tear.
Are love and honor both, all dead?
Oh neighbors! has your reason fled?
Can you look on and see her go
To the dark maniac's house of woe?
Yet raise no voice, no hand, no eye.
To stay that dread calamity!
Throbs here no heart of sympathy?
Can no one say she shall be free?
Oh! in the sacred name of love,
Of liberty, of God above,
By all the tender ties of life,
Spare! spare! that deeply suffering wife,
Recording Angel! can't thou see
A blacker shade of cruelty?"

-- MRS. S. N. B. O.

As soon as I was landed in the cars, the car door was quickly locked, to guard against any possible reaction of the public, manly pulse, in my defence. Mr. Packard, Deacon Dole, and Sheriff Burgess seated themselves near me, and the cars quietly moved on towards my prison tomb, leaving behind me, children, home, liberty and an untarnished reputation. In short, all, all, which had rendered life desirable, or tolerable.

Up to this point, I had not shed a tear. All my nervous energy was needed to enable me to maintain that dignified self-possession, which was indispensably necessary for a sensitive womanly nature like my own, to carry me becomingly through scenes, such as I have described. But now that these scenes were past, my hitherto pent up maternal feelings burst their confines, and with a deep gush of emotion, I exclaimed;

"O! what will become of my dear children!"

I rested my head upon the back of the seat in front of me and deliberately yielded myself up to a shower of tears.

O! thought I, "What will my dear little ones do, when they return to their desolate home, to find no mother there! O! their tender, loving hearts will die of grief, at the story; of their mother's wrongs!"

Yes, it did well nigh rend each heart in twain, when the fact was announced to them, that they were motherless!

My sons Isaac and George were just about this time returning from their prairie errand, and this fact was now being communicated to them, by a gentleman whom they met returning from the depot. When within speaking distance, the first salutation they heard was:

"Well, your mother has gone."

"What!" said Isaac, thinking he had misunderstood.

"Your mother has gone!"

Supposing this was only an old rumor revived, he carelessly replied:

"No she isn't, she is at home, where I just left her, and I am now on the way there to take her to ride with me."

"But she has gone -- I just came from the depot, and saw her start."

Now, for the first time, the terrible truth flashed upon his mind, that this is the reason George and I have been sent off on this errand, and this accounts also, for the attentions so lavishly bestowed upon us this morning by my groom, by my father and by Mr. Comstock. Yes, this awful fact at last found a lodgment in his sensitive heart, when he, amid his choking and tears could just articulate:

"George! We have no mother!

Now, George, too, knew why he had been so generously treated to sugar-plums that morning, and he too burst into loud crying, exclaiming:

"They shall not carry off my mother!"

"But they have carried her off! We have no mother!"

Here they both lifted up their voices and wept aloud, and as the team entered the village all eyes were upon them, and others wept to see them weep, and to listen to their plaintive exclamations:

"We have no mother! We have no mother!"

As they drew near the front of Mr. Comstock's store, seeing the crowd settling there, Isaac felt his indignation welling up within him, as he espied among this crowd some of his volunteer soldiers in his mother's defence, and having learned from his informant that no one had taken his dear mother's part, he reproachfully exclaimed, as he leaped from his wagon --

"And this is the protection you promised my mother! What is your gas worth to me!"

They felt the reproaches of a guilty conscience, and dared not attempt to console him. Mr. Comstock was the only one who ventured a response in words. He said:

"You must excuse me, Isaac, for I did what I thought would be best for you. I knew your father was determined, and he would put her in at any rate; and I knew too, that your opposition would do no good, and would only torment you to witness the scene. So I had you go for your good!"

"For my good!" thought he, "I think I should like to be my own judge in that matter!"

He spoke not one reproachful word in reply; but true to his promise to protect his mother's papers, he quickly sought her room to get the box. But lo! it was gone! and never was he allowed to know who took these papers, nor where they were hidden. Among them was my will and a note of six hundred dollars, which Mr. Packard had given me for that amount of my patrimony which my father had sent me a few years before. This note I have never seen, nor have I ever had one cent of the money it secured to me.

But George, knowing the direction the cars went with his mother, ran on the track after them, determined he never would return until he could return with his mother rescued from prison! He was not missed until he was far out of hearing, and almost out of sight -- he only looked like a small speck on the distant track. They followed after him; but he most persistently refused to return, crying:

"I will get my dear mamma out of prison! My mamma shan't be locked up in a prison! I will not go home without my mother!"

He was of course forced back, but not to stay -- only until he could make another escape. They finally had to imprison him -- my little manly boy of seven years-to keep him from running two hundred miles on the track to Jacksonville, to liberate his imprisoned mother!

But O, my daughter! no pen can delineate thy sorrow, to find thy mother gone! perhaps, forever gone! from thy companionship, counsel, care and sympathy! She wept both night and day, almost unceasingly, and her plaintive moans could be heard at quite a distance from home.

"O! mother! mother! mother!" was her almost constant, unceasing call.

Her sorrow almost cost her her reason and her life.

And so it was with Isaac. He grieved himself into a settled fever, which he did but just survive; and during its height, he moaned incessantly for his mother, not knowing what he said. His reason for a time was lost in delirium.

But my babe, thank God! was too young to realize his loss. For him, I suffered enough for two human beings.

Here we leave these scenes of human anguish, to speak one word of comfort for the wives and mothers of Illinois.

Conscious that there had already been innocent victims enough offered in sacrifice on this altar of injustice, in consequence of these cruel laws of Illinois against my own sex, I determined to appeal, single-handed and alone, if necessary, to their Legislature, to have them repealed, and thereby have the personal liberty of married women protected by law, as well as by the marital power.

This effort was a complete success, and is fully detailed in the second volume.

CHAPTER IV.
My Journey.

Sheriff Burgess left our company at Kankakee City, twelve miles distant from Manteno, where he then resided. Not knowing at that time but that he had the legal papers Deacon Dole claimed for him, I thanked him, on taking leave, for the kind and gentlemanly manner he had discharged his duties as a sheriff in this transaction, adding:

"You have only discharged your duty as a sheriff, therefore, as a man, I shall claim you as a friend."

And six months from this date, when he called upon me in my Asylum prison, and inquired so kindly and tenderly after my comfort and surroundings, I felt confirmed in my opinion that I had not misjudged him.

Not long after he died, but not until after he had frankly confessed his breach of trust, as a public officer, in this transaction.

As my wounded heart still sought the relief of tears, I continued to weep on and at length I ventured to express my sincere, deep anxiety, lest my children would not be able to survive their bereavement. Mr. Packard and Mr. Dole then both tried to console me, by assuring me they were left with kind friends who would take good care of them; and Mr. Packard said he had left a written document for each of them, which he thought would satisfy them, so that they would "soon get over it."

"O," thought I, "soon get over it! what consolation! to be told that your children would soon forget you!"

Nay, verily I am too indelibly united to their heart's tenderest, deepest affections, to suffer an easy or rapid alienation.

And so it proved-for three years this cruel wound in their sensitive hearts remained unhealed -- they instinctively and persistently spurned the mollient he offered to heal it, viz: "their mother was insane, and therefore must be locked up for her good!"

I have been told they would give expression to their feelings in language like the following, and it being so characteristic of their natures, I have no doubt of its truth.

"No," Georgie would say, "mother is good enough now! and havn't I a right to my mother?"

"No," Elizabeth would say, "mother is not crazy, and you know she is not! I do think father is possessed with a devil, to treat our good, dear, kind mother as he does. We know our dear mother is good, for she has never done anything wrong -- she is kind to you, and she is kind to everybody."

The natural, unsophisticated natures of my children, rendered it very difficult for them to see the necessity of locking up a person, while they were doing good, and had never done anything wrong!

The philosophy of that kind of insanity, which requires this to be done, was beyond their comprehension. And even the maturer minds of my oldest sons, Theophilus, then eighteen, and Isaac, sixteen, were equally slow in discovering this necessity. In fact, three years was too short a time for their father to convince these children of this painful necessity.

At length, wearied with those fruitless efforts to get my children to sanction his course, he finally resorted to the authority of the father to silence them into acquiescence to his views. He therefore forbade their talking upon the subject, and made it an act of disobedience on their part to talk about their mother.

This taught them to use hypocrisy and deceit, for Isaac and Elizabeth would watch their opportunity, in the absence of their father, to talk upon their favorite theme; and when Elizabeth and Georgie could not evade this order by day, they would take the hours of sleep and talk in a whisper about me, after they had retired to bed.

Another agency he employed to wean them from me, was, he would not allow me to be spoken of in their presence, except as an insane person, and in terms of derision, ridicule or contempt. But notwithstanding all these combined agencies, he could not wean them from me, or lessen their confidence in me, according to his own statement, which he made to Mrs. Page on one of his yearly visits to the Asylum.

"I never saw children so attached to a mother, as Mrs. Packard's are to her -- I cannot by any means wean them from her, nor lead them to disregard her authority in the least thing, even now. I cannot even induce them to eat anything which they think she would disapprove of. She seems by some means to hold them in obedience to her wishes, just as much in her absence as in her presence. This influence or power is more than I can understand."

Yes, I knew full well that Mr. Packard did not understand the nature and disposition of my children, and therefore I felt unwilling to trust them with him.

"But how could I avert this fate? In no way. I had not chosen this separation-God's providence had permitted it against my wishes, and regardless of my prayers to the contrary.

"Now, what shall I do? Shall I murmur and complain at what I cannot help, and when I know it will do no good? or, must I silently submit to this inevitable fate, and trust to the future developments of providence to unravel this great mystery?

"Yes, I must submit. I must not complain, while at the same time, I have a right to use all suitable means for a restoration to my family and duties."

Therefore, as the result of this soliloquy, I concluded to avail myself of the advice given me by my Manteno friends at the depot, viz:

"Be sure, Mrs. Packard, and tell every one you see that you are on your way to the Insane Asylum -- and for what -- for possibly by this means you may come in contact with some influence that may rescue you."

Knowing that duties were mine and events God's, I determined to dry up my tears and address myself to this duty.

I announced this determination to Deacon Dole in these words:

"Mr. Dole, I am not going to cry any more. Crying is not going to help me. I am going to put on a cheerful countenance, and cultivate the acquaintance of my fellow travelers, and enjoy my ride the best I can. I may as well laugh as cry, for I have as good a right to be happy as any other person."

"That is right, Sister Packard; you have as good a right to be happy as any one, and I am glad to see you smile again."

After changing a few remarks respecting the beauty of the country through which we were passing, and the delightfully calm and clear atmosphere, so tranquilizing in its influence over one's disturbed feelings, I looked about to see who were my companions, when I met the eye of a young lady, a stranger to me, whose eyes seemed to fasten upon me with such a penetrating look, that I could hardly withdraw my own without bestowing upon her a smile of recognition. Upon this she bent forward and extended her hand, saying:

"I am very sorry for you. I see they are carrying you to the Insane Asylum, and you do not wish to go."

"Yes, that is so, and I thank you for your sympathy; but I have concluded not to weep any more about it, as I shall need all my nervous energies to meet my fate with dignity and self-possession."

"But you are not insane! why do they put you there?"

"No, I am not insane, but my husband is trying to put this brand upon me, to destroy my moral influence."

"But why does he wish to destroy your influence?"

"Because I have defended some opinions in a Bible-class where he is the minister, which he cannot overthrow by argument, and now he tells me he is going to make the world believe that I am insane, so that my opinions need not be believed, for he says he must protect the cause of Christ."

"Don't he think it his duty to protect his wife?"

"He thinks it his duty to protect her from injuring the cause of Christ, by locking her up in a prison!"

"I heard you speak of your children; how many have you?"

"Six-five boys and one girl."

"Six children! and he, their father, taking from them their mother, simply because you differ from him in opinion! O, 'tis too bad! How I pity you!"

At this point, she burst into tears, and resting her head -upon the back of my seat, she cried and sobbed, until she had completely drenched her pocket-handkerchief, when I handed her one of my own, and she drenched that also.

"O," she said, "you must not go! You are too good a woman to be locked up in an Insane Asylum."

I tried to console her, by telling her I felt it would all come out right at last -- that all I had to do was, to be patient and do right.

She then put her arm around my neck and kissed me, saying:

"How I wish I could help you! I will do all I can for you."

She then left her seat and brought back another lady, whom she introduced as one who wished to talk with me.

From her I learned that the sympathy of the passengers was with me -- that some had thought of volunteering in my defence, and this feeling was now gaining strength by the influence of my first friend's conversation among them. I saw groups of gentlemen evidently talking together about me -- some conversed with me, and I had my hopes somewhat raised that something would be done to restore me to my children, and by the time the cars reached Tolona, I felt that I was amongst friends, instead of strangers.

Mr. Packard could not but see that the tide was against him, for he sat by my side and listened most attentively to every word, and when opportunity presented, he aimed by self-vindication to counteract every hopeful influence from taking possession of my mind, by such remarks as these:

"You say, wife, that the Lord prospers those whose ways please him; now, judging by this test, who is prospered in their plans, you or I? You see I succeed in all I undertake, while all your efforts are defeated. Now, isn't the Lord on my side?"

"The time hasn't come to decide that question by this test; this is only the beginning not the end of this sad drama. You may be prospered by having your way for a time; only to make your defeat all the more signal. I do not think it is certain the Lord is not on my side, simply because I am not now delivered out of your power. God has a plan to be accomplished, which requires all this to take place in order to its ultimate success. But I can't see what that plan is, nor why my sufferings are necessary to its accomplishment. But God does, and that faith or trust in the rectitude of his plans, keeps my mind in peace even now. Neither do I think it is certain the Lord is on your side, because you have been permitted to have your own way in getting me imprisoned. The end will settle this question."

Another attempt at self-vindication appeared in the following conversation. Said he:

"You think a great deal of your father, and that what he does is right; now, I want to show you that he upholds me in doing as I now am, and approves of the course I am now pursuing, and here is a letter from your own dear father confirming all I have said."

As he said this, he handed me an open letter in my father's own hand-writing, saying:

"Read for yourself, and see what your father says about it."

"No," said I, shaking my head, "I do not wish to read such a letter from my father, for it would be a libel upon his revered memory. I know, too, that if he has written such a letter as you represent, he has had a false view of the case presented to him. My father would never approve of the course you are pursuing, if he knew what the truth is respecting it. You have told him lies about me, or you never would have had his approval in putting me into an asylum."

Still he persistently urged me to read the letter, so I could judge for myself. But I would not. This was the only kind of consolation he attempted to offer me.

We dined at Tolona, where I had the good fortune to be seated by the side of a very intelligent gentleman, at the head of the table, whom I afterwards found to be the general freight agent, who boarded there at that time. He sat at the end of the table, I sat next him on the side, and Mr. Packard next to me. This gentleman, in a polite, gentlemanly manner, drew me into a free and easy conversation with himself, wherein I freely avowed some of my obnoxious views and my progressive reform principles, respecting the law of health, physical development, etc.

He expressed his high appreciation of my views and principles, and remarked:

"These have been exactly my views for a long time, and now I am happy to find one woman who is willing to endorse and defend them, and who can do so with so much ability."

The entire attention of our table guests seemed centred upon our conversation, for all appeared to be silent listeners, and none seemed to be in any haste to withdraw -- the cars giving us ample time for a full and leisurely taken meal.

I noticed one of the female waiters, a very intelligent-looking lady, seemed almost to forget her duties, so eager was she to listen to every word of our conversation.

After retiring with my husband to the sitting-room, I recollected the instructions given me to tell all where I was going had been disregarded at the table, where I ought to have replied to the gentleman's compliment, by saying:

"I am happy to have your approval, sir, for it is for avowing these views and principles that I am called insane, and am now on my way to Jacksonville, to be entered as an inmate, to suffer the penalty of indefinite imprisonment for this daring act; and this, sir, is my husband, Rev. Theophilus Packard, of Manteno, who is now attending me there."

This thought did flit across my mind at the table, but the habitual practice I had acquired of shielding, instead of exposing my husband, led me to resist this suggestion of self-defence and wise counsel. I saw now my error in yielding thus foolishly, to this feminine weakness, and I, like Peter, went out not "to weep bitterly," but to seek to make the best atonement I could for this sin.

I sought and found that listening female waiter, and asked her who that gentleman was with whom I held my conversation at the table. She told me.

"Will you please deliver this message to him? Tell him the lady with whom he conversed at the table is Mrs. Packard, and that the gentleman by her side was her husband, a minister, who is taking her to Jacksonville, to imprison her for advancing such ideas as he had so publicly endorsed and approved at the table."

The woman looked at me in amazement, and exclaimed:

"You are not going into the asylum!"

"Yes, I am. This very night I shall be a prisoner there."

"But you must not go! You shall not go! Come and consult the landlady -- she may hide you."

As she said this, she took me by the hand, and led me to an open door, where, from the threshold she introduced me to a very kind-looking lady, in these words:

"This is the lady I told you about, and her husband is taking her to the insane asylum; can't you help her?"

Looking at me for a moment in amazement, she said:

"Yes, I will. Come with me and I will hide you."

"No, my kind friend, it will be of no avail. My husband has the law on his side, and you cannot protect me."

"But I will try. You must not go into an insane asylum. Come! and I will shield you."

As she said this, she extended to me her hand, while the tears of real sympathy were coursing down her cheek. I replied:

"O! sister, I thank you for your kindness and sympathy. But don't distress yourself for me. I shall be sustained. I feel that God's providence overrules all, and I know God will take care of me and my children."

Just as I finished this sentence, Mr. Packard stood by my side, and he with a most respectful bow said:

"Wife, will you go with me to the parlor?"

I quietly took his arm and bowing to my would-be-protector, walked with him to the parlor, where I remained seated by his side until the train arrived.

On the cars I met again my valiant female defender, who informed me that her advisers had decided that there was no way to rescue me from my husband's hands; but that it was certain that a lady like myself would be retained at the asylum but a very short time, and would soon be restored to my children and liberty again.

After thanking her most cordially for her help and sympathy, we kissed and parted, never to meet again, unless in the unknown future.

Now my last hope died within me, and as the gloomy walls of my prison could be but indistinctly defined by the gray twilight of a summer evening, I held on to my husband's arm, as he guided my footsteps up the massive stone steps, into my dreary prison, where by gas-light he introduced me to Dr. Tenny, the Assistant Superintendent, to be conducted by him to my lonely, solitary cell.

CHAPTER V.
My Reception.

Yes, here within these prison walls, my husband and I parted, as companions, forever. He was escorted to the "guest chamber," while I, his constant companion for twenty-one years, was entrusted to the hands of my prison keeper to be led by him to find my bed and lodging, he knew not where, and to be subject to insults, he knew not what.

While he was resting on his wide, capacious, soft, luxurious bed, in the stately airy apartment of the Asylum guests, he did not know that the only place of repose provided for his weary wife was a hard narrow settee, with no soft pillows to rest her weary head upon.

But he did know I had no darling babe at my side, but, solitary and alone, I must compose myself to sleep, not knowing at what hour of the night my room might be entered, nor by whom, or for what purpose -- for the key of my room was no longer in my own, nor my husband's hands, but in the hands of stranger men, and his wife entirely at their mercy.

Yes, this is all the protection I got from the one, for whom I left all to love, cherish and make happy, in return for his promised protection. With all the trusting confidence of woman, I never doubted but he would protect my virtue and my innocence.

Yes, I trusted too he would be the protector of my right of maternity also, for the dear children I had borne him.

O, could I sleep amid these turbid waters, whose surging billows so mercilessly swept over my soul thoughts such as these! But one thought there was, more dreadful to my sensitive feelings than all others -- now these dear children, these dear fragments of myself, must be exposed to bear the dismal, dreadful taint of hereditary insanity, for their mother now lodges amid the hated walls of an Insane Asylum, as an inmate!

And oh! to whom can their mother now look for protection? To whom shall I make complaint if insulted? Oh, to whom?

I cannot write a letter unless it is inspected by my men keepers. Why is this?

Is it because they intend to insult me and deprive me of my post-office rights to shield and hide their own guilt?

But can I not hand a letter clandestinely to the trustees, as they pass through? If I could do such a thing, and entered a charge against their superintendent, would this be heeded? Would not this superintendent deny the truth, and defend his lie by the plea that his accuser is insane, and this is only one of the fancies of her diseased brain.

Yes, yes, there is no man, woman, or child, or law, who now can care for my soul, or protect my virtue!

And yet, while I am an American citizen, I am excluded, without trial, from society, and then denied any protection by law of one of my inalienable rights. I am not only outlawed, but I am absolutely denied all and every means of self-defence, no matter how criminal, nor how aggravated the offence maybe.

My womanly nature does call for, and need some refuge to flee to, either to the law, or to man. But here, I have neither. Should my keeper chance to be a bad man, I have no refuge but my God to flee to -- therefore into Thy hands do I commit my body for safe keeping this night.

My spirit, and the future of my earthly destiny, I have long since committed to Thy care, and now protect my body from harm, and give me the sleep my tired nature so much needs, and thus prepare me to bear the trials of to-morrow, as well as I have those of to-day, and Thou shalt have the honor of delivering me from the power of my adversaries. May no sin be ever suffered to have dominion over me.

With these thoughts, I fell into a quiet sleep, from which I awoke not until the morning of my first day in the Asylum dawned upon me.

CHAPTER VI.
My First Day of Prison Life.

At an early hour, I arose from my settee-bed, first kneeled before it, and thanked my kind Father in Heaven for the refreshing sleep I had enjoyed, and asked for sustaining grace for the duties of the day. To prepare myself for these duties I took my sponge bath, as usual, since Mrs. De La Hay, my attendant, had, at my request, furnished me a bowl from her own room, towels, etc., so that I could take my bath in my room, as this had long been a habit I very much wished to retain while there. I soon found that she had especially favored me in granting this request, since it is the general custom there, to have all the ladies perform their morning ablutions in the bath-room, and I could not learn that any, except my attendant, approved of washing all over, daily in cold water, as I did. And, as a general thing, their toilet had to be prepared before the same common mirror in the bath-room.

Therefore I requested Mr. Packard to furnish my room with a bowl and pitcher, and a mirror, which he accordingly did, and before another night, I had a bed prepared like the other prisoners, which was a comfortable, narrow mattress bed, on a narrow bedstead. Mrs. De La Hay had done the best she could the night before, to accommodate me, since the beds in the seventh ward were all occupied when I arrived.

After finishing my toilet in my room, with the aid of my own brushes and combs and small mirror, which my traveling basket contained, I was invited out to my breakfast with the other prisoners.

At my request my attendants introduced me to my companions, most of whom returned my salutation with lady-like civility.

Our fare was plain and coarse, consisting almost entirely of bolted bread and meat, and tea and coffee. But as I drank neither tea nor coffee, I found it rather dry without any kind of vegetables, not even potatoes, and sauce or fruits of any kind. As my diet had consisted of Graham bread, fruits and vegetables, to a great extent, I felt quite apprehensive lest my health would materially suffer from so great a change.

Mr. Packard did not, however; now seem to care any more what his wife had to eat, than where she had to sleep, for so long as he stayed at the Asylum he was the guest of Dr. McFarland, whose table was always spread with the most tempting viands and luxuries the season or the markets could afford. Mr. Packard did not even allow me the honor of an invitation to sit with him at this table; although the night before, a special meal had to be ordered for us both, he took his at the Doctor's table, while I had to be sent to the ward, to eat my warm biscuits and butter there alone.

I felt these indignities, these neglects, these inattentions, just as any other affectionate, sensitive wife would naturally feel under such circumstances. But, for twenty-one years I had been schooling myself to keep under subjection to my reason and conscience, the manifestation of those indignant emotions which are the natural, spontaneous feelings which such actions must inevitably germinate in a true, confiding wife. Therefore, I made no manifestation of them under these provocations.

At a very early period in my married life, had I learned the sad truth that it was impossible for Mr. Packard to appreciate or understand my womanly nature; therefore I had habituated myself to the exercise of charitable feelings towards him in my interpretation of such manifestations. I had tried to school myself to believe that his heart was, not so much at fault as his education, and, therefore, I could sincerely pray the Lord to forgive him, for he knows not what he does -- he does not know how to treat a woman.

I knew that the least manifestation of these indignant emotions would be misconstrued by him into feelings of anger, instead of a natural, praiseworthy resentment of wrong doing. And the laudable manifestation of these feelings under such circumstances, would tend to lessen, instead of increasing my self-respect.

He held me in such relation towards himself as my father did towards himself, so that any resistance of his authority was attended with the same feeling of guilt which I would have felt in resisting my father's authority. And I, like a natural child, had always felt an almost reverential respect for my father's authority, and nothing to me seemed a greater sin than an act of disobedience to his commands; my conscience even demanded that I yield unquestioning submission to even the denial of my most fondly cherished hopes and anticipations.

Mr. Packard had been introduced into our family when I was but ten years old, and he had been my father's ministerial companion for eleven years, and when I married him he had been my lover or suitor for only a few months. Previous to this time I had only looked upon him as my father's companion and guest, but never as even a social companion of his daughter, who had always been taught to be a silent listener to her father's social guests.

This parental training of reverential feeling towards my father's ministerial guests, had capacitated me to become an unresisting victim to Mr. Packard's marital power or authority. And as Mr. Packard's education had led him to feel that this marital authority was the foundation stone of the marriage union, he, of course, conscientiously claimed, what I was too willing to grant, viz.: subjection to his will and wishes.

But undeveloped as I then was, my true nature instinctively revolted at this principle as wrong; but wherein, it was then difficult for me to demonstrate, even to my own satisfaction. But I can now see that my nature was only claiming its just rights, by this instinctive resistance to this marital authority. It was the protection of my identity or individuality which I was thus claiming from my husband, instead of its subjection, as he claimed. The parental authority, I admit, has a subjective claim, to a degree; but the marital has only the authority of protection.

I believe that the moment a Husband begins to subject his wife, that moment the fundamental law of the marriage union is violated. Both parties are injured by this act -- the husband has taken the first step towards tyranny, and the injured wife has inevitably taken her first step towards losing her natural feeling of reverence towards her husband. Slavish fear is conjugal love's antagonistic foe -- the purest and most devoted woman's love vanishes before it, as surely as the gentle dew vanishes before the sun's burning rays. Fortify this love ever so strongly, this principle of slavish subjection will undermine and overthrow the most impenetrable fortresses, and take the victim captive at its will.

So had my conjugal love been led into a most unwilling captivity by my husband's tyranny, and all the charitable framework which woman's forgiving nature could throw around it, could not prevent this captivity, nor redeem the precious captive, so long as the tyranny of subjection claimed its victim!

But to the triumph of God's grace I can say it, that during these twenty-one years of spiritual captivity, I do not know that I ever spoke a disrespectful word to my husband. I endured the soul agonies of this blighting, love strangling process silently, and for the most part uncomplainingly. I could, and cheerfully did do my duty to this usurper, as I would have done to a husband. But these duties had to be done from the dictates of settled principle, rather than from the impulse of true conjugal love.

I hope my impulsive readers will now be prepared to understand that it is not because I did not feel these insults that I did not resent them; but I had not then reached that stage of womanly development where I had the moral courage to defend myself by asserting my own rights. This stage of growth was indeed just dawning upon me; but O! the dense clouds attending this dawning of my individual existence!

I had indeed practically asserted one of these inalienable rights, by not yielding my conscience and opinion to the dictates of creeds or church tyranny.

Yes, I had maintained my rights of conscience in defiance of the marital power also. And this, too, had been the very hinge on which my reputation for sanity had been suspended. As Mr. Packard expressed himself:

"Never before had Elizabeth persistently resisted his will or wishes-a few kind words and a little coaxing would always before set her right; but now she seems strangely determined to have her own way, and it must be she is insane."

Thus, in my first struggle after my independence, I lost my personal liberty.

Sad beginning! Had it not been better for me to submit to oppression and spiritual bondage, rather than have attempted to break the fetters of marital and religious despotism?

No, I cannot feel that I have done either myself or others the least wrong, in the course I have thus far taken; therefore, I have no recantations to make, and can give no pledges of future subjection to either of these powers, where their claims demand the surrender of my conscience to their dictation.

And this is what they call my insanity, and for which I was sent to the asylum to be cured. I think it will be a long time before this cure will be effected. God grant me the quietude of patient endurance, come what will, in the stand I have taken. While these and similar reflections were passing through my mind, the door of my cell was opened by a fine-looking gentleman in company with Mr. Packard, to whom he introduced me as Dr. McFarland, the Superintendent. He had but just returned from a journey east, so that Dr. Tenny, the Assistant, received me.

Dr. McFarland politely invited me to accompany them to the "reception-room."

I gladly accepted this invitation to be restored to the civilities of civilization, even temporarily.

I seated myself upon the sofa by Mr. Packard's side, and the Doctor took the big rocking-chair directly in front of us, and opened a pleasant and interesting conversation, by narrating incidents of his eastern journey. In a very easy and polite manner, he led on the conversation to other points and topics of interest at the present day, and finally to the progressive ideas of the age, even to religion and politics. He very gallantly allowed me a full share of the time to express my own thoughts, while Mr. Packard sat entirely speechless.

As the tone and spirit of the conversation rendered it proper, I recollect I made a remark something like this:

"I don't know why it is, Doctor, it may be merely a foolish pride which prompts the feeling, but I can't help feeling an instinctive aversion to being called insane. There seems to be a kind of disparagement of intellect attending this idea, which seems to stain the purity and darken the lustre of the reputation forever after."

"No, Mrs. Packard, this is not necessarily so; even some of the most renowned and gifted minds in the world have been insane, and their reputation and character are still revered and respected, such as Cowper and Tasso, the greatest poets in the world, and many others."

I made no plea of defence in favor of my sanity, and particularly avoided any disparaging or criminating remarks respecting Mr. Packard, but simply let the conversation take the direction the Doctor dictated. But, as I then thought fortunately for me, he introduced no topic where I felt at any loss what to say, to keep up an intelligent interchange of thought and expression. In short, this interview of an hour or more, was to me a feast of reason and a flow of soul, and it seemed to be equally so to the Doctor, unless my womanly instincts very much deceived me.

When I was returned to my ward, and behind the fatal dead lock, dining with the insane, I must confess I did feel more out of my proper place, than I did while in the reception room of refined society.

After noticing the manner in which the institution was conducted for the three succeeding years, I found that the interview I had had with the Doctor was a most uncommon occurrence. Indeed, I never knew of a single instance where any other patient ever had so fair an opportunity of self-representation, by a personal interview upon their reception into the Asylum, as he had thus allowed me. They are usually taken, forthwith, from their friends in the reception-room, and led directly into the ward, as Dr. Tenny had done by me the night before. But unlike my case afterwards, there they were left to remain indefinitely, so far as an interview with the Doctor was concerned.

Many patients were received and discharged, while I was there, who never had five minutes conversation with the Doctors while in the Asylum. Often the new arrival would come to me and inquire:

"When am I to have an examination?" I would reply, "You never have an examination after you get here, for the Doctor receives you on the representation of those who want you should stay here."

"But I never had any examination before I came, and even did not know where I was being brought, until I got here, and then my friends told me I should have an examination after I arrived."

"I believe you are speaking the truth; for public sentiment seems to allow, that one whom we wish to regard as insane, may be deceived and lied to to any extent with impunity; and besides the blinded public generally suppose that the inmates do all have to pass an examination here before they are received, which is not the fact. They take it for granted that all are of course insane, or they would not be brought here, as Dr. Tenny said of me to Mrs. Waldo, in reply to her inquiry:

"Dr. Tenny, do you call Mrs. Packard an insane person?"

"Of course I do, or she would not be brought here," was his reply.

And then the outsiders say, 'Of course they are insane, or they would not have been received."

Thus our insanity is demonstrated beyond, a question! After dinner I saw from the grated window of my cell, the Asylum carriage drive up in front of the steps, when Mr. Packard was politely handed in, and the carriage drove off. Upon inquiry, I found he had gone to ride, to see the beauties of the scenery about Jacksonville, and the public buildings and handsome residences.

"Oh," thought I, "why could he not have invited me to ride with him? And how could he seek comfort for himself, while he left his wife amid scenes of such wretchedness?"

Not long after, my attendant came to my room and invited me to take a walk. I most gladly accepted the invitation, struggling and panting as my spirit was, for freedom; and I found that the pure air alone exerted an exhilarating influence over my feelings, and I with another prisoner, proposed to walk about the buildings, to see the grounds, etc.

But we soon found ourselves followed by our watchful attendant, to see if we were not trying to run off!

"Oh," said I," is this the vigilance that I am subjected to? Is there no more freedom outside of our bolts and bars, than within them? Are we not allowed to be paroled like prisoners?"

"No, no. No parole of honor is allowed these prisoners, for not one moment are we allowed to be out of sight and hearing of our vigilant attendant. And these are the walks and circumscribed limits Mr. Packard has assigned his wife, while he can roam where he pleases, with none to molest or make him afraid."

It is my opinion that this institution receives and retains many sane persons, of whose sanity Dr. McFarland is as well assured as he was of my own. I do believe that he became fully convinced in his heart that I was not insane, before our interview terminated, for he once plainly intimated he never should have received me had he been at home. But since I had been already received by his assistant, he did not like to revoke his decision so abruptly as to return me directly into my husband's hands; neither did he wish to disappoint the wishes nor thwart the plans of a very respectable and popular minister of high standing in the Presbyterian church, for by this act he might possibly alienate some popular influences from his support; and one other thought may have had some influence over this decision (and will not my reader pardon my vanity if I mention it?) namely, I think the intelligent Doctor thought he would like to become better acquainted with me.

By thus retaining me for a few days, he felt that I could then be returned to the satisfaction of all parties.

His subsequent polite attentions, and the remark he made to me at one of these interviews, viz,: "Mrs. Packard, you will not remain here many days," in connection with a remark he made Mrs. Judge Thomas, of Jacksonville, respecting me has led me to feel that I did not then misjudge him. The remark was this:

"Mrs. Thomas, we have a very remarkable patient now in our Asylum. It is a Mrs. Packard, a clergyman's wife, from Massachusetts. She has a high order of talent, has a very superior education, is polished and refined in her manners, having ever moved in the best society, and is the most intelligent lady I ever saw. I think you would like to make her acquaintance."

CHAPTER VII.
The Parting Scene.

The next day I had a brief interview with the Doctor alone in my room, which was very pleasant and satisfactory to me -- that is, I thought he could not think I was an insane person, therefore I had a little ray of hope to cling to, as Mr. Packard had not yet left. Dr. McFarland did not exchange a word with me upon this subject. But this dying hope was destined very soon to go out in utter darkness.

About three o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Packard came the second time to my room, and as he had allowed me to be in his company only during the interview I had with the Doctor, during the two days and nights he had been in the Asylum, I felt it to be a privilege to accept of his invitation to go to the reception-room and have a talk with him there.

I accordingly took his arm, without its being offered, and walked out of the hall. As we passed on, I heard some one remark:

"See! that lady is not alienated from her husband. See how kindly she takes her husband's arm."

I seated myself by his side on the sofa, when he said:

"I am going to leave for Manteno in about one hour, and I did not know but that you would like to have a talk with me before I left."

"Then you are determined to leave your wife in an Insane Asylum! Oh, husband! how can you do so?"

I then burst into tears.

"I hoped we should have a pleasant interview before we parted."

"Pleasant! How could it be pleasant to leave me in such a place? And do you think it will be pleasant for me to be left? Only think of those dear motherless children!"

"I shall see that they are well taken care of."

"But you cannot give them a mother's care. Oh how can my children live without their mother! And how can I live without my children!"

As this strong maternal feeling of my nature came welling up into such a high pitch of intensity, it seemed as if my heart would burst with anguish, at this hitherto unaccepted thought. I arose, and, with my handkerchief to my face, I walked the room back and forth, at the same time begging and pleading in the most plaintive, expressive terms, that he would commute my sentence of banishment, so far as not to separate me from my children.

"Oh, do be entreated in some way, to allow me this one favor, and my grateful, thankful heart will bless you forever. Oh, it will kill me to be separated from those dear ones! My babe! Oh, what will become of him! and what will become of me without my babe? Oh, husband, do! do! let me return with you to my children! You know I have always been a kind and faithful mother and wife, too, and now, how can you treat me so?"

For some time I walked the room, giving utterance to such and similar expressions, without raising my eyes, or noticing the effect my plea was having upon him; but after a long pause, and vainly watching for his reply for some time, I looked up to see why he did not speak to me, when lo! what did I see?

My husband sound asleep on the sofa, nodding his head!

In astonishment, I indignantly exclaimed:

"Oh husband! Are you asleep? Can you sleep when your wife is in such agony?"

The emphatic tones of my voice brought him back to consciousness, when he raised his head, and opening his eyes, replied:

"I can't keep awake; I have been broken of my rest."

"I see it is of no use to say anything more -- it will avail nothing. We may as well part now as ever."

Saying this, I walked up to him and extended to him my hand, and as I did so, I said:

"Farewell, husband, forever! May our next meeting be in the spirit land; and if there you find yourself in need of help to rise to a higher plane, remember there is one spirit in the universe, who is willing to descend to any depth of misery, to help you on to a higher plane, if this can be done -- and this spirit is your Elizabeth. Farewell, husband, forever!"

"I am sorry to hear you talk so; I hoped we should have a pleasant parting."

This was our parting scene!

Now, let me introduce to my reader a scene in the Doctor's office, which succeeded this. Leaving me in the reception room, he repaired to the office, to take his leave of the Doctor.

Now, it was his turn to cry!

Availing himself of this right, he now burst into a flood of tears, which so choked his utterance, it was some minutes before he could articulate at all, when he at length exclaimed:

"How I pity my wife! How hard it is to leave her here! Oh, if I only were not obliged to do so, how gladly I would take her home! She is such a good wife, how can I part with her? But I must do so, hard as it is, for her good."

Thus he went on, acting this part of the drama to perfection. Indeed, so well, and adroitly did he act the husband, that the intelligent Dr. McFarland himself was deluded into the belief that he was sincere, and that these were the tears of true sorrow and affection.

Alluding to this scene months afterwards, he remarked:

"I never saw a man so deeply afflicted, and even heartbroken, as Mr. Packard was at parting with you. He was the most heart-broken man I ever saw. If ever a man manifested true affection for his wife, it was Mr. Packard."

Yes, he so completely psychologized the Doctor into the feeling that he loved me most devotedly, and was compelled, in spite of himself, to incarcerate me, that the Doctor felt certain there had been a justifiable cause for my having been brought there.

Satisfied that his work was now well done, he took his leave of the Doctor, and his tears at the same time! and with a light heart and quick step, passed out on to the porch, where he stopped to give me one look of satisfied delight, that he had finally completely triumphed, in getting me imprisoned beyond all hope of deliverance.

Never had I seen his face more radiant with joy, than when he looked up to me, as I stood before the open window of the reception room and threw me his kisses from the ends of his fingers, and bowed to me his happy adieu.

Yes, happy that his conspiracy against my personal liberty had so completely triumphed over all opposition.

Having secured the entombment of the mother, he had now naught to do but to teach her children to despise their mother and treat her name and memory with contempt and derision.

CHAPTER VIII.
Disappointed Hopes.

Mr. Packard has gone! My last hope of deliverance through him, has now sunk into a rayless night of despair. Yes, utter despair of ever being liberated and reinstated in my family again. He has not so much as even uttered one syllable on which I could build such a hope. I never have heard him even say, he hoped I should ever get better, so as to be with him once more. What can this mean? Has he buried me for life?

Yes, so his conduct speaks, and no word or act contradicts it. Hopeless imprisonment! Oh, may my reader never know what these terms signify. I know what it is to endure endless torment, and hopeless bondage! And it is a terrible doom.

I did try to build a faint hope upon the fact that he had brought only a small satchel of things with me, and these could not last me long; but before he left, he dashed this hope to the ground by telling me he should send me my trunk, after he got home. In about three weeks, there did arrive a monstrous sized trunk directed to Mrs. Packard, which led the patients to exclaim:

"Is Mr. Packard going to keep his wife here for life?"

And how did my sad heart echo this fearful question.

But even amid this gloom, one ray of comfort gleamed forth at the thought, now I shall hear from my dear children. They surely will send some token of love and affection to their imprisoned mother. And to enjoy this comfort to its fullest extent, I asked the Doctor to allow me to unpack it in my own room, with the door locked. He kindly locked me in himself, seemingly rejoicing in my anticipated joy.

My first surprise on opening it, was to see so few articles of clothing, and these of the very poorest kind, and in a state of the most tangled confusion, with rotten lemons and cans of fruit scattered amongst them to their detriment, poor as they were. The whole contents would not fill one-third of the trunk, and this caused the confusion. And why he should send so large a trunk to carry so few articles, has always been an unsolved mystery to me.

But this feeling was soon lost in the bright thought of soon finding my children's love tokens. Each and every article was most carefully searched, to find what would be next to finding my child, for his own fingers must have held it and kissed it for his mother.

But ah! must I utter the sad truth, that no token, no letter could be found, on which my fond heart could rest its loving impulses? Yes, so it was; and being alone, I wept in deepest anguish at this disappointed hope.

My sons afterwards told me that they all expressed a wish to send me a letter and many tokens, but their father had refused to let them do so unless he should dictate the letters. Isaac said he knew that to get such a letter as his father would dictate, would pain me more than it would to get none at all.

And so it would have been, for on a narrow strip of paper, four inches long and two wide, I found penciled:

"We are glad to hear you are getting better; hope you will soon get well. Your daughter Elizabeth."

This her father made her write to make me feel that she believed me insane; and he knew nothing would torment me so much as this thought from her. Indeed, I found that what Isaac had said was too true. I was more pained to get this line from my daughter than I would have been to get none at all; for not knowing the truth, I did fear she was coming under the influence of this delusion.

I think the Doctor pitied me under this trial, for the next day, when, in reply to his questions, I told him I found no letters, or love tokens, or messages from my children, be seemed astonished, and said:

"I thought you would find many letters. I wonder they did not write to their mother."

Another disappointment. I had especially requested Mr. Packard that my nice black silk dress and white crape shawl be sent, so that I could go to church decently dressed. But not only these, but all my other good articles of clothing were kept from me, not only while I was in the asylum, but long after I was liberated; and then he was forced to give them up upon my father's authority. Now my only hope of deliverance lay in the Mantenoites fulfilling their promise to get me out in a few days. Every carriage and man was watched, hoping to find in him my deliverer. But none came, until several weeks, when I was called from Mrs. McFarland's parlor into the reception-room, to see Mr. and Mrs. Blessing, from Manteno, and a stranger, to whom they introduced me as Dr. Shirley, of Jacksonville.

Dr. Shirley took the lead in the conversation, and I was delighted at the compliment he paid me in introducing subjects such as required intelligence and scientific knowledge to converse upon. Our pleasure in sustaining such an interchange of thoughts seemed to be mutually reciprocated, and I think we both parted feeling that we were wiser than when we met.

In reply to their inquiry:

"Is she insane?"

"She is the sanest person I ever saw. I wish the world was full of such women."

Now that my sanity was established beyond question, the Mantenoites resolved to liberate me, and therefore appointed a public indignation meeting for this purpose, to see what could be done to effect it.

Mr. Packard hearing of this proposed meeting to liberate his imprisoned wife, sent to Chicago and obtained Rev. A. D. Eddy, D. D., and Mr. Cooley, of the firm of Cooley & Farwell, to come to Manteno and help him to withstand and defeat this philanthropic plan. They both came and did their work up thoroughly and successfully, in that they browbeat the Mantenoites, and silenced them into submission to the dictates of this ministerial and church influence.

Thus this plan was defeated, and I was destined to another disappointment.

Mr. Blessing told me clandestinely, he had come to effect my liberation if possible.

But these Mantenoites determined that their defeat should not be a failure, and therefore they determined to try the habeas corpus act, and thus secure me a fair trial at least.

But to their surprise, they found it exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, to extend this act to a legal "nonentity," unless by the consent of Mr. Packard, who stood for me in law, and of course he would not consent to any step which would allow me any chance at self-defence.

Therefore, with the encouragement and assistance of his brother ministers, and the church, he learned how to ward off this attempt successfully.

Again the Mantenoites assembled, and by their generous contributions raised a liberal purse of money, to be used in my defence. They sent a delegation to the asylum, to inform me of this fact, which they did, by carefully noting the time the Doctor's back was turned, to inform me as they walked through the prison halls. Said they:

"Any amount of money you can have, if money can help you. Send to your son, Theophilus, to take you out."

I simply had time to reply, "I can't send letters out."

This was all we could say clandestinely. Although I could see no hope of deliverance through this source, yet the thought that I was being cared for by any one outside my prison, was a great consolation to me.

Through the influence of friends, my oldest son, Theophilus, visited the asylum, and obtained an interview with me.

When I was incarcerated in my prison, Theophilus was in the post-office in Mount Pleasant, Iowa, as clerk, and had not seen me for two years. His regard for me was excessive. He had been uniformly filial, and very kind to me, and therefore when he learned that his loving mother was a prisoner in a lunatic asylum, he felt an unconquerable desire to see me, and judge for himself, whether I was really insane, or whether I was the victim of his father's despotism.

His father, aware of this feeling, and fearing he might ascertain the truth respecting me by some means, sent him a letter, commanding him not to write to his mother now in the asylum, and by no means visit her there, adding, if he did so, he should disinherit him!

Theophilus was now eighteen years of age, and, as yet, had never known what it was to disobey either his father's or mother's express commands. But now his love for his mother led him to question the justice of this seemingly arbitrary command, and he, fearful of trusting to his own judgment in this matter, sought advice from those who had once been Mr. Packard's church members and deacons in Mount Pleasant, and from all he got the same opinion strongly defended, that he had a right to disobey such a command.

He therefore ventured to visit his mother in her lonely prison home in defiance of his father's edict.

I was called from my ward to meet my darling first-born son in the reception-room, when I had been in my prison about two months. After embracing and kissing me with all the fondness of a most loving child, and while shedding our mutual tears of ecstasy at being allowed to meet once more on earth, he remarked:

"Mother, I don't know as I have done right in coming to see you as I have, for father has forbidden my coming, and you have always taught me never to disobey my father."

"Disobeyed your father!" said I. "Yes, I have always taught you it was a sin to disobey him, and I do fear you have done wrong, if you have come to see me in defiance of your father's command. You know we can never claim God's blessing in doing wrong, and I fear our interview will not be a blessing to either of us, if it has been secured at the price of disobedience to your father's command."

Here his tears began to flow anew, while he exclaimed:

"I was afraid it would prove so! I was afraid you would not approve of my coming! But, mother, I could not bear to feel that you had become insane, and I could not believe it, and would not, until I had seen you myself; and now I see it is just as I expected, you are not insane, but are the same kind mother as ever. But I am sorry if I have done wrong by coming."

I wept -- he wept -- I could not bear to blame my darling boy.

"And must I?" was the great question to be settled.

"My son, let us ask God to settle this question for us," and down we both kneeled by the sofa, and. with my arm around my darling boy, I asked God if I should blame him for coming to see me in defiance of his father's order. While asking for heavenly wisdom to guide us in the right way, the thought came to me, "go and ask Dr. McFarland."

I accordingly went to the Doctor's parlor, where I found him alone, reading his paper. I said to him:

"Doctor, I have a question of conscience to settle, and I have sought your help in settling it, namely, has my son done wrong to visit me, when his father has forbidden his coming, and has threatened to disinherit him if he did? He has the letter with him showing this to be the case."

After thinking a moment, the Doctor simply replied:

"Your son has a right to visit his mother!"

Oh, the joy I felt at this announcement! It seemed as if a mountain had been lifted from me, so relieved was I of my burden. With a light heart I sought my sobbing boy, and encircling my arms about his neck, exclaimed:

"Cheer up! my dear child, you had a right to visit your mother! so says the Doctor."

Why was this struggle with our consciences? Was it not that we had trained them to respect paternal authority?

At this interview, Dr. McFarland fairly promised to co-operate with my son, in doing all in his power to get me out, and afterwards refused to do the least thing towards it, not even to send my letters to my son, nor would he deliver his to me. I know he received letters from him, for shortly after I saw one on his office table from him, directed to me, and I took it up to read it, and he took it from me, refusing to let me know its contents.

Now I found I was destined to another disappointment, for the Doctor had not only refused to co-operate, but was evidently defeating my son's filial attempts to rescue his mother. The agony of this disappointment was increased by the fact that the Doctor had deceived us both, in this transaction, therefore his word could no longer be trusted.

I was very sorry to be obliged to come to this conclusion, for until this development I had regarded him as a man of honor, whose word could be trusted.

Another effort my friends made was to go the Governor on my behalf, but he replied:

"I cannot repeal laws, nor enact laws, I can only execute laws, and if there is no law by which she can have a trial, or be liberated, I do not know of anything that I can do for her. It is her husband's business to take her out, and if he refuses, there is no law to force him, so long as Dr. McFarland claims she is insane."

After all these sore disappointments, I found that my personal liberty, and personal identity, were entirely at the mercy of Mr. Packard and Dr. McFarland; that no law of the Institution or of the State, recognized my identity while a married woman; therefore, no protection, not even the criminal's right of self-defence, could be extended to me; and therefore I must intelligently yield up all hopes of my personal liberty, so long as Mr. Packard and Dr. McFarland lived and agreed in keeping me imprisoned!

With such an institution in every State what is there now to prevent any kind of persecution a depraved nature may instigate against the innocent and unsuspecting? especially against a married woman, who, upon the principle of common law, has no legal protection whatever, if her husband chooses to use the power the law gives him to prevent it!

Had I lived in the sixteenth instead of the nineteenth century my husband would have used the laws of that day to punish me as a heretic for this departure from the established creed -- while under the influence of the same intolerant spirit, he now uses this autocratic institution as a means of torture to bring about the same result -- namely: a recantation of my faith.

In other words, instead of calling me by the obsolete title of heretic he modernizes his phrase by substituting insanity instead of heresy as the crime for which I am now sentenced to endless imprisonment in one of our Modern Inquisitions.

Much that is now called insanity will be looked upon by future ages, with a feeling similar to what we feel towards those who suffered as witches, in Salem, Massachusetts. That persecution went so far, that the government was obliged to make a law, that all who accused others of witchcraft, must themselves suffer the punishment they had designed to secure to the witch. This law and its execution put a speedy stop to these false accusations.

Possibly, our government will be obliged to put a stop to these false accusations of insanity, in the same manner. If all those who falsely accused another of insanity, were compelled to be treated as insane themselves, I think the number of those brought before a jury for trial, on the charge of insanity, would be greatly lessened.

CHAPTER IX.
Sunny Side of My Prison Life.

For the first four months of my prison life, Dr. McFarland treated me himself, and caused me to be treated, with all the respect of a hotel boarder, so far as lay in his power.

As to medical treatment, I received none at all, either from himself, or his subordinates. And the same may be said with equal truth, of all the inmates. This is the general rule; those few cases where they receive any kind of medical treatment, are the exceptions.

A little ale occasionally, is the principal part of the medical treatment which these patients receive, unless his medical treatment consists in the "laying on of hands," for this treatment is almost universally bestowed. But the manner in which this was practised, varied very much in different cases.

For the first four months the Doctor "laid his hands" very gently upon me, except that the pressure of my hand in his was sometimes quite perceptible, and sometimes, as I thought, longer continued than this healing process demanded!

Still, as I was then quite a novice in this mode of cure, I might not have been a proper judge.

But after these four months he laid his hands upon me in a different manner, and as I then thought and still do think, far too violently. There was no mistaking the character of these grips -- no duplicity after this period, rendered this modern mode of treatment of doubtful interpretation to me.

To Dr. McFarland's credit I must say, that if shaking hands with his patients is his mode of medical treatment, I must give him the credit of paying no respect of persons in administering it. For indeed there was seldom an occupant of the seventh ward who did not daily feel the grip of the Superintendent's hand.

And I have no doubt but that this mode of imparting magnetism was in many instances beneficial to the patient.

So far as its influence upon me was concerned, I cheerfully admit that I considered myself benefited by it. My nervous system had been severely taxed, my sympathies had been stifled, and these heavy draughts on the vital forces of my nature had left me in a condition to be easily strengthened and benefited by the magnetic influence of a strong and sympathizing man. The affectionate pressure of his great hand seemed to impart a kind of vitality to my nervous system, which did help me bear my spiritual tortures with greater fortitude and composure. Up to this date I had reason to believe that he did pity me, and really wished to be a true friend to me and my interests.

Many thanks are due to Dr. McFarland for the courteous, manly treatment I received from him during this favored period. I did not then think, neither do I now cherish the thought, that Dr. McFarland intended to manifest himself towards me in any manner inconsistent with the principles of a high-toned, manly gentleman.

Only one impulsive act of this kind did he allow himself to commit during my entire prison life, which I think his reason would not approve, so far as his personal treatment of me was concerned.

One day I was entrusted with the care of some of the Seventh ward patients, to recreate ourselves in the court-yard. Availing myself of the sources of amusement there furnished, I seated myself upon a swing, and also politely accepted the offer of a gentleman, who was reclining upon the grass under the shady tree to swing me. After allowing him to do so for a while, I asked him to allow me to get off and let another take my place. But instead of receiving their thanks for this offer, Mrs. Gassaway, one of the prisoners, a wife, and mother of several children, bestowed upon me a most severe reprimand, not only for swinging myself, but also for allowing a "male patient," as she called my gallant, to swing me.

Instead, therefore, of accepting this offer herself, or allowing any other one to accept it, she started with a quick step towards the ward, to report my misdemeanors to Miss Eagle, our attendant, as she threatened to do.

I, of course, followed with my paroled prisoners after her, as I had been instructed to keep an eye upon them all; but instead of following them into the ward, I went alone into the Doctor's office to report my misdemeanors at head quarters.

I found Dr. McFarland standing at his writing desk, alone in his office. I rushed up in front of him, and in a very enthusiastic, amusing manner, made a frank and full confession of what Mrs. Gassaway termed my "great improprieties!"

With his eyes upon me, the Doctor listened with the most profound attention to my confessions and plea for pardon, and as I finished by inquiring:

"What shall I say to Miss Eagle, in extenuation of Mrs. Gassaway's charge against me?

"Say nothing; I will see that you are protected!"

And as he made this remark, he stooped and bestowed a kiss upon my forehead.

Although I regarded this as a mere impulsive act, dictated by no corrupt motives, yet as I afterwards told him, I considered it an indiscreet act for a man in his position:

"For, Dr. McFarland, men do not send their wives, nor fathers their daughters here, expecting that you will manifest your regard for them in this manner, and by doing so, you render yourself liable to just censure from the patrons of this Institution."

The Doctor listened with silent attention to this reproof, and only remarked:

"It was only a kiss of charity."

Here I will venture the remark, that had I been discharged at any time during these four months, I should doubtless have identified myself with that class of discharged prisoners who represent Dr. McFarland as no other than an honorable gentleman. And I am prepared to believe there are many whose experience would lead them to thus represent him, for, from their standpoint, he had been only the gentlemanly Superintendent.

The greatest fault I could see in the Doctor's conduct during this period was, his receiving so many who were not insane, and in retaining those who had recovered their sanity so long after they were able to be at home. I saw several such sink back into a state of hopeless imbecility from this cause alone. Hope too long deferred made them so sick of life that they yielded themselves up to desperation as a natural, inevitable result.

It was a matter of great surprise to me to find so many in the Seventh ward, who, like myself, had never shown any insanity while there, and these were almost uniformly married women, who were put there either by strategy or by force. None of these unfortunate sane prisoners had had any trial or any chance for self-defence.

And I could not force myself to believe that so sensible a man as the Doctor, could really believe they were insane, without a shadow of evidence in their own conduct. But sadly foolish and weak as it was, he professed to believe they were, on simple hearsay testimony, in defiance of positive, tangible proof to the contrary.

I once asked the Doctor how long he had to keep a person imprisoned, to determine whether they were insane or not.

His reply was, "Sometimes six months, and sometimes a year!"

Another fact I noticed, that he invariably kept these sane wives until they begged to be sent home. This led me to suspect that there was a secret understanding between the husband and the Doctor; that the subjection of the wife was the cure the husband was seeking to effect under the specious plea of insanity; and when they began to express a wish to go home, the Doctor would encourage these tyrannical husbands that they were "improving."

Time after time have I seen these defenceless women sent home only to be sent back again and again, for the sole purpose of making them the unresisting willing slaves of their cruel husbands.

I do not blame Dr. McFarland for the sins of these unnatural husbands, but I do blame him for letting the institution be used by them as a place of punishment to married women-as a prison, where they could appeal to none for help or deliverance-but to themselves.

These husbands, like Mr. Packard, knew that no law could protect the wife from their despotic power, and they knew too, that the simple word of Dr. McFarland, that they were insane, would legally entitle them to the use of this State's Prison as a calaboose, where their wives could be subjected to their husbands' will! I think that Dr. McFarland, even while he treated these subjected women with decent, gentlemanly respect, was at the same time, inflicting upon them a most cruel wrong, in keeping them imprisoned, when he knew they were not insane.

This is the only wrong I complain of from him, during those four months. He ought to have had the moral courage to say to Mr. Packard:

"Your wife is not insane, and I see no reason why her personal liberty should be taken from her. Therefore, I shall discharge her upon my own responsibility, to take care of herself unless you choose to do so. I am sure she is capable of assuming a self-reliant position, and therefore ought not to be imprisoned."

But he dared not do right and justice by me, or my associates, in this particular, but chose the cowardly course of compromising with this mean man; and thus he trampled the highest, noblest instincts of his manly nature in the dust. By thus oppressing the weak, instead of protecting them, he ruined himself -- his manliness suffered strangulation under this process, -- as the sequel will demonstrate.

But with this exception, no Superintendent could have treated a prisoner with more consideration than he did me. I was allowed to go into the parlor and visit with his wife or her guests, when I pleased. I was occasionally invited to eat at the Doctor's table. He instructed my attendants to let me go out whenever I pleased. He allowed my room to be furnished with the toilet comforts of any good boarding house. He allowed me to have a trunk in my room, and all the articles of my wardrobe that I needed.

I was allowed my gold watch and gold spectacles, my three bladed pocket knife and scissors; in fact, everything a hotel boarder could desire. He furnished me books and papers to read. I could read, knit and sew, ride or walk, when I pleased, and to add to the feeling of trust and confidence he reposed in me, he gave me the entire charge of a carriage load of patients, and gave also the reins of the horse into my hands, to ride as far as I pleased, and return when I pleased.

This he did fourteen times, with no one to care for the horse or the patients, but myself.

He gave me money to go to the city and trade for myself, and his wife has sent me to trade for her, and for the house. His wife has employed me for weeks in succession, to cut and make dresses for herself and daughters, and the matron employed me to cut and plan work for the house. I cut and made twelve comforts for the house, and tied them myself, in my room, made pants and vests and cut twelve dresses for the patients.

Indeed, there was always something to do, for the comfort of others, and my own amusement. I was allowed to visit with most of the guests of the house.

In short, but for the grated windows, and bolted doors of prison life, I should hardly have known but I was a boarder, whose identity and capacities were recognized, in common with other intelligent guests.

My companions in the Seventh ward, were a very pleasant source of social enjoyment. Among them, I found some of the most original thinkers I ever saw; and among this class, some of the best teachers I had ever had.

Some of them were Spiritualists, and they taught me many new ideas, and set me on to a new track of exploration. They told me their visions, and trances and prophecies, many of which have been already fulfilled, in the events of the war.

One lady had a prevision of the war, and was sent to the Asylum because she told of it! Another had a vision of the same, under different imagery, and she had to lose her personal liberty for telling of it. Both of these prophetesses, Mrs. Neff and Mrs. Clarke, have lived to see the exact fulfillment of their visions, and like Jeremiah, they both had to be imprisoned for foretelling future events.

And sad as is the fact, these inspired women were compelled even under the folds of the American flag of religious toleration, to either be false to these true inspirations, or "Hide their light under a bushel," in order to obtain their personal liberty. Both of them told me, they were obliged to stop talking about it, before any one would admit they were getting over their insanity.

But they had to endure the horrors of a Lunatic Asylum for months, and even. years, before they could be induced to love the defence of the truth, less than their personal liberty. But neither of these prophetesses ever did, to my knowledge, deny the truth of these visions, nor would they own it to be insanity. They merely yielded to be gagged, on condition that they could be liberated by so doing.

Such manifestations as these, are what the Asylum calls very insane cases, so they had to be subjected to very severe punishments, and tortures, to bring them into this condition! They both said to me clandestinely, the night before they left:

"My views are not changed at all, in regard to these prophetic truths, yet I dare not own it aloud, lest Dr. McFarland hear of it, and I be thereby doomed to endless torment within these prison walls. If my attendants should know that I have uttered these views to you, they will report me to the Doctor, and he will order my friends to leave to-morrow without me, as he will tell them I am not fit to go, for my insanity has returned. Therefore be entreated Mrs. Packard, not to betray me by reporting this conversation, until I am safely away from this horrid Inquisition."

Of course I did not report them to their tormentors, but I consider it to be my duty, to report this inquisition to the American people, and thus appeal to their intelligence, to destroy these Inquisitions, which they are now blindly sustaining, under the popular name of charitable, humanitarian institutions.

If the truth were known, I believe that much that is called insanity at the present day, is only a higher development of Christianity than the perverted theology of the pulpit is willing to recognize.

CHAPTER X.
Letters to My Husband and Children.

Jacksonville, July 14th, 1860, Sabbath, P.M.

My Dear Husband and Children:

Your letter of July eleventh arrived yesterday. It was the third I have received from home, and, indeed, is all I have received from any source since I came to the Asylum. And the one you received from me is all I have sent from here. I thank you for writing so often. I shall be happy to answer all letters from you, if you desire it, as I see you do, by your last. I like anything to relieve the monotony of my daily routine. * *

Dr. McFarland told me, after I had been here one week, "I do not think you will remain but a few days longer." I suspect he found me an unfit subject, upon a personal acquaintance. Still, unfit as I consider myself, to be numbered amongst the insane, I am so numbered at my husband's request. And for his sake, I must, until my death, carry about with me, "This thorn in the flesh -- this messenger of Satan to buffet me," and probably, to keep me humble, and in my proper place.

God grant it may be a sanctified affliction to me! I do to bear it, uncomplainingly, and submissively. But, Oh! 'tis hard -- 'tis very hard.

May you never know what it is to be numbered with the insane, within the walls of an asylum, not knowing your friends will ever regard you as a fit companion or associate for them again.

Oh! the bitter, bitter cup, I have been called to drink, even to its very dregs, just because I choose to obey God rather than man! But, as my Saviour said, "the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?" Oh! yes, for thy sake, kind Saviour, I rejoice, that I am counted worthy to suffer the loss of all things. And thou hast made me worthy, by thine own free and sovereign grace. Yes, dear Jesus, I am trying to learn the lesson thou art teaching me, that "in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."

Yes, content, to sit at a table with twenty-four maniacs, three times a day, and eat my bread and meat, and drink my milk and water, while I remember, almost each time, how many vegetables and berries are upon my own dear table at home, and I not allowed to taste, because my husband counts me unworthy, or unfit, or unsafe, to be an inmate at his fireside and table. I eat, and retire, and pray God to keep me from complaining. My fare does not agree with my health, and so I have begged of our kind attendants, to furnish me some poor, shriveled wheat, to eat raw, in order to promote digestion. This morning, after asking a blessing at the table, I retired to my own room, to eat my raw, hard wheat alone, with my pine-apple to soften it, or rather to moisten it going down.

Yes, the berries I toiled so very hard to get for our health and comfort, I only must be deprived of them at my husband's appointment.

The past -- Oh! the sad past! together with the present, and the unknown future! Let oblivion cover the past -- let no record of my wrongs be ever made, for posterity to see, for your sake, my own lawful husband.

Oh! my dear precious children! how I pity you! My heart aches for you. But I can do nothing for you. I am your father's victim, and cannot escape from my prison to help you, even you -- my own flesh and blood -- my heart's treasure, my jewels, my honor and rejoicing.

For I do believe you remain true to the mother who loves you so tenderly, that she would die to save you from the disgrace your father has brought upon your fair names, by being stigmatised as the children of an insane mother, whom he said he regarded as unsafe, as an inmate of your own quiet home, and, therefore, has confined me within these awful enclosures!

May you never know what it is to go to sleep within the hearing of such unearthly sounds as can be heard here almost at any hour of the night! I can sleep in the hearing of it, for "so he giveth his beloved sleep."

Children dear, do not be discouraged at my sad fate, for well doing; but be assured that, although you may suffer in this world for it, you may be sure your reward will come in the next. "For, if we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him."

Do commit your souls to him in well-doing for my sake, if you dare not for your own sake, for I do entreat you to let me be with you in heaven, if your father prevents it on earth.

I may not have much longer to suffer here on earth. Several in our ward are now sick in bed, and I give them more of my fruit than I eat myself, hoping that, when my turn comes to be sick, some one may thus serve me. But if not, I can bear it, perhaps better than they can, to be without any solace or comfort in sickness here, such as a friend needs.

Do be kind to your father, and make him as happy as possible. Yes, honor your father, if he has brought such dishonor upon your name and reputation.

I will devote my energies to these distressed objects around me, instead of attending to your wants, as a mother should be allowed to do, at least, so long as she could do so, as well as I could, and did, when I was taken from you. I know I could not, for lack of physical strength, do as much for you as I once could, still I was willing, and did do all I could for you. Indeed, I find I am almost worn out by my sufferings. I am very weak and feeble. Still I make no complaints, for I am so much better off than many others here.

Do bring my poor lifeless body home when my spirit has fled to Jesus' arms for protection, and lay me by my asparagus bed so you can visit my grave and weep over my sad fate in this world. I do not wish to be buried in Shelburne, but let me rise where I suffered so much for Christ's sake.

Oh! do not, do not, be weary in well-doing, for, did I not hope to meet you in heaven, it seems as though my heart would break!

I am useful here, I hope. Some of our patients say, it is a paradise here now, compared with what it was before I came. The authorities assure me, that I am doing a great work for the institution.

When I had the prospect of returning home in a few days, as I told you, I begged with tears not to send me, as my husband would have the same reason for sending me back as he had for bringing me here. For the will of God is still my law and guide, so I cannot do wrong, and until I become insane, I can take no other guide for my conduct. Here I can exercise my rights of conscience, without offending any one.

Yes, I am getting friends, from high and low, rich and poor. I am loved and respected here by all that know me. I am their confidant, their counsellor, their bosom friend. Oh! how I love this new circle of friends! There are several patients here who are no more insane than I am; but are put here, like me, to get rid of them. But here we can work for God, and here die for him.

Love to all my children, and yourself also. I thank you for the fruit and mirror. It came safe. I had bought one before.

I am at rest -- and my mind enjoys that peace the world cannot give or take away. When I am gone to rest, rejoice for me. Weep not for me, I am, and must be forever happy in God's love.

The questions are often asked me.

"Why were you sent here? you are not insane. Did you injure any one? Did you give up, and neglect your duties? Did you tear your clothes, and destroy your things? What did you do that made your friends treat such a good woman so?"

Let silence be my only reply, for your sake, my husband. Now, my husband, do repent, and secure forgiveness from God, and me, before it is too late. Indeed, I pity you; my soul weeps on your account. But God is merciful, and his mercies are great above the heavens. Therefore, do not despair; by speedy repentance secure gospel peace to your tempest-tossed soul. So prays your loving wife,

ELIZABETH.

Extract from Another Letter.

My Dear Husband:

I thank you kindly for writing, and thus relieving my burdened heart, by assuring me that my dear children are alive and well. I have been sadly burdened at the thought of what they are called to suffer on their mother's account.

Yes, the mother's heart has wept for them every moment; yet my heart has rejoiced in God my Saviour, for to suffer as well as to do his holy will, is my highest delight, my chief joy.

Yes, my dear husband, I can say in all sincerity and honesty, "The will of the Lord be done." I can still by this abundant grace utter the true emotions of my full heart, in the words of my favorite verse, which you all know has been my solace in times of doubt, perplexity and trial. It is this:

"With cheerful feet thy path of duty run,
God nothing does, nor suffers to be done,
But what thou wouldst thyself, couldst thou but see,
Through all events of things as well as He."

Oh! the consolation the tempest-tossed spirit feels in the thought that our Father is at the helm, and that no real harm can befall us with such a pilot to direct our course.

And let me assure you all for your encouragement, that my own experience bears honest, practical testimony that great peace they have who make God their shield, their trust, their refuge; and I can even add that this insane asylum has been to me the gate to Heaven. * * *

By Dr. McFarland's leave, I have established family worship in our hall; and we never have less than twelve, and sometimes eighteen or more, quite quiet and orderly, while I read and explain a chapter -- then join in singing a hymn -- then kneeling down, I offer a prayer, as long as I usually did at our own family altar.

I also implore the blessing of God at the table at every meal, while twenty-nine maniacs, as we are called, silently join with me.

Our conversation, for the most part, is intelligent, and to me most instructive. At first, quite a spirit of discord seemed to pervade our circle. But now it is quiet and even cheerful. I find that we as individuals hold the happiness of others to a great degree in our own keeping, and that "A merry heart doeth good like medicine." * * *

If God so permit, I should rejoice to join the dear circle at home, and serve them to the best of my ability. "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." I thank you, husband for your kindness, both past and prospective. Do forgive me wherein I have ever wronged you, or needlessly injured your feelings, and believe me your

ELIZABETH. P. S. -- Tell the dear children to trust God, by doing right.

CHAPTER XI.
My Transition.

During the sunny days of my prison life I was allowed to have the free and unrestricted use of my pen, with all the paper and stationery I wished. My right to my letters, journal and private papers, was as freely acceded to me as any other inalienable right of an American citizen. And Dr. McFarland even respected my post-office right so much as not to read my letters to my husband, nor do I think he read his to me.

This, I found, was an almost unexampled practical acknowledgement of this sacred right of an American citizen, while under the locks and keys of one of its humanitarian institutions.

Before I entered an insane asylum and learned its hidden life from the standpoint of a patient, I had not supposed that the inmates were outlaws, in the sense that the law did not protect them in any of their inalienable rights. I had ignorantly supposed that their right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," was recognized and respected as human beings.

But now I have learned it is not the case; but on the contrary, the law and society have so regulated this principle, that the insane are permitted to be treated and regarded as having no rights that any one is bound to respect -- no, not even so much as the slaves are, for they have the rights of their master's selfish interests to shield their own rights.

But the rights of the insane are not even shielded by the principle of selfishness. What does the keeper of this class care for the rights of the menials beneath him?

Nothing. His salary is secured by law, whether there be few or many under the roof which shelters him. Unlike the slaveholder, he can torment and abuse unto death, and his interests are not impaired by this wreck of human faculties and human life.

Indeed this wreck is oftentimes made a necessity to the Superintendent, to prevent the exposure of his criminal acts.

And since there is no law to shield the insane person, he is, by law, subject to an absolute despotism. Thus the despot is protected in his despotism, no matter how severe and rigorous he may become.

Now since the object of government should be to protect the rights of its citizens, it seems to me that the insane have rights which the government ought to respect, acknowledge, and protect.

And one of these human rights is to write letters to whom and when they please, as this would serve to restrain, in some degree, the absolute despotism which rules supreme behind the curtain.

So long as the superintendent was upright, and acted according to his highest sense of right, he would not care what his patients said or wrote about him. But when selfishness and wicked policy controlled his actions, he would fear his wickedness would be exposed if the patients were allowed to write what they pleased. I think it is because the deeds of darkness and cruelty are so common, instead of deeds of kindness, forbearance and justice, that render the superintendents so harmonious in the opinion that it is best to deprive their patients of their post-office rights, when they are deprived of their personal liberty.

In my own experience I find this principle demonstrated, as the sequel will show.

While I was treated with propriety, there were no strictures put upon my correspondence; but as soon as he began to pass on to the plane of injustice, he became jealous at once of the use I made of this right.

I do not think any letters I wrote during these sunny days would have excited his jealousy if he did read them all; but there was one document I wrote which did arouse all the evil influences of his nature into energetic action against me, and this was a written reproof I gave him.

It may be a matter of surprise to my readers that I should deem it my duty to reprove one who was acting so gentlemanly a part towards me.

It was a surprise to myself, almost, that I should dare to risk myself in such an encounter, knowing as I did, that all my favors, rights and privileges, were suspended entirely upon the will of the superintendent, and therefore, subject to his dictation. But motives higher than those of self-interest actuated me, or I could not have done it. I know that I was a rare exception in the respectful treatment he was bestowing upon me; no other prisoner had been so much favored before me, if the testimony of his employees could be relied upon, and my eligible position had become the great topic of discussion among the prisoners and employees.

But by the omnipotent power of God's grace I was inspired with moral courage sufficient to espouse the cause of the oppressed and the defenceless, even at the risk of becoming one of their number by so doing.

I plainly saw and felt that on the part of their oppressors there was power, but that they had no comforter. I felt conscious that I held an influence and power over Dr. McFarland, and I deliberately determined this influence should be felt in their behalf. And, like Queen Esther, I felt willing to cast in my lot with these despised captives, if necessary, to be their deliverer.

I therefore depicted their wrongs, oppression and received cruelties, in the most expressive terms I could command, and on this statement of awful facts I based an appeal to his intelligence, his humanity, and his conscience, to become their protector and deliverer.

I furthermore added, that unless he did treat them with more justice, I should expose his criminal conduct publicly, when I got out; but if he would repent of these sins against humanity, he would have nothing to fear, for we would all forgive the past if he would repent now, and do us justice in the future.

This document cast the die for my future destiny.

The transition time had fully come, when comfort, attention, respect, privilege, all, all, were in the dead past, and discomfort, inattention, disrespect, contempt, wrong and deprivation are to mark the future of my prison life.

It was for others' interests I plead -- it was of others' wrongs and woes I complained. It was for them and their sakes I deliberately laid down my position as the asylum favorite, and became henceforth the asylum prisoner.

From this time, for two years and eight months, was I made a close prisoner, and never after, with but one exception, allowed to step my foot outside the asylum walls, and I fully believe it was the Doctor's purpose to make a maniac of me, by the skillful use of the asylum tortures.

But, thank God! the mouths of the Asylum Lions were kept shut, so that they could not hurt me, and like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, the Lord brought me out of this fiery furnace without the taint of insanity upon me. I did not fear to trust the Lord in the line of my duty -- he did not forsake me in my captivity.

Although henceforth I became one with my fellow captives in suffering, yet never for one moment have I regretted the step I then took in their defence, nor the transition it assigned me.

CHAPTER XII.
My Removal from the Best Ward to the Worst.

One Saturday evening, after chapel prayers, Dr. McFarland took me by the arm and led me from the chapel into the eighth ward, and as he left me behind the dead lock, said:

"You may occupy this ward, Mrs. Packard."

This was the first manifestation of the change in the Doctor's feelings towards me. As he left, I said to my attendant:

"Miss Tenny, what does this mean?"

"I don't know; all he said to me was, 'I wish you not to allow Mrs. Packard to leave the ward, and give her a dormitory bed, and treat her as you do the maniacs."

"I don't know what it means either, he has never reproved me for anything, neither have I broken any rules that I know of. I wonder if 'my reproof' has not offended him?"

"I presume it has; I have heard there was quite a stir about it."

I found it was generally known that I was preparing a document in defence of the prisoners' rights, and several had heard me read it; and although they insisted upon its truth in every particular, yet they all seemed to think I had no idea of the Doctor's power over us, or I should not dare to utter the truth so plainly to him.

Some said, "We have often told him the same thing, but he takes no notice of it whatever, unless he gets mad about it, then he will send us to some bad ward to be punished for it."

Others would say, "Mrs. Packard, you had better not give the Doctor that document, unless you wish to be sent to a dungeon, where you could never see daylight again!"

Another would say, "I will stand by you, Mrs. Packard, if you will give him that document, if he kills me for doing so! for it is the truth."

Fearing some of these predictions might prove true, I took the precaution to take an exact copy of the document, and sewed it up in a cloth, and hid it between the glass and the board back of my mirror, where it remained, undisturbed and unknown, to any one except myself, until I took it out after I was liberated. I did this, thinking that if I should be killed there, it might some time be found, and tell the cause of my sudden or mysterious death; or if ever I should be liberated, it might be a vindication of my sanity, and explain the reason for my being retained so long. Since my liberation I have printed and sold several thousand copies of this reproof.

I also put every article of my wardrobe in perfect order, before going to chapel prayers that night, feeling a kind of presentiment of coming evil. I also told my friends in this seventh ward, that I hoped they would save my things from destruction, if they could not help me, in case of an encounter with the Doctor.

As it proved, I went to the chapel as well prepared for the event as I could have been, had I known what was to happen.

My attendant, Miss Eagle, of the seventh ward, told me that the Doctor came directly to my room after he had disposed of me, and shut himself in there alone, a long time, while he searched my things all over to find every manuscript I had in my possession, which he took from me. Knowing that I had a duplicate of my reproof, he determined to find and destroy it. But in this attempted robbery he failed.

He then ordered Miss Eagle to send all my things to the trunk room, and not allow me to take my bowl and pitcher and mirror, although they were my own.

He ordered my new attendant, Miss Tenny, to treat me just as she did the maniacs, who were now my sole companions -- to let me have nothing to amuse myself with, by way of sewing, reading, or writing.

My associates in this ward occupied themselves in screaming, fighting, running, hallooing, sitting on the floor when they sat at all in their own rooms, as chairs were not allowed in this ward. There was scarcely a patient in the whole ward who could ask or answer a question in a rational manner.

This ward was then considered the worst in the house, inasmuch as it then contained some of the most dangerous class of patients, even worse than the fifth in this respect, and in respect to filth and pollution it surpassed the fifth at that time. It is not possible for me to conceive of a more fetid smell, than the atmosphere of this hall exhaled. An occupant of this hall, would inevitably become so completely saturated with this most offensive effluvia, that the odor of the eighth ward patients could be distinctly recognised at a great distance, even in the open air.

I could, in a few moments after the Doctor put me in among them, even taste this most fetid scent at the pit of my stomach. Even our food and drink were so contaminated with it, we could taste nothing else, sometimes. It at first seemed to me, I must soon become nothing less than a heap of putrefaction. But I have found out that I can live, move, breathe, and have a being, where I once thought I could not!

This awful scent was owing to neglect in the management of the Institution. This was not the visitor's ward. Seldom any, but the asylum occupants, found their entrance into this sink of human pollution.

The patients were never washed all over, although they were the lowest, filthiest class of prisoners. They could not wait upon themselves any more than an infant, in many instances, and none took the trouble to wait upon them. The accumulation of this defilement about their persons, their beds, their rooms, and the unfragrant puddles of water through which they would delight to wade and wallow, rendered the exhalations in every part of the hall almost intolerable.

To endure this contamination, I felt certain my daily cold water bath must be continued; but how could it be done, with only one tin wash basin for eighteen persons? I found that we all could hardly find time to wash even our hands and face, before breakfast, in this single dish, much less could it be spared long enough for one to take a full bath.

My attendant tried to get my bowl and pitcher from the Seventh ward, to accommodate me, but the Doctor forbid it. I asked him for it. He refused me.

I then claimed the right to take a new chamber vessel, that was brought into the ward for another purpose, and tied a scarlet string around the handle to distinguish it, and kept it under my bed for my washbowl. By this means I was able to continue my daily bath, although I found my feelings of delicacy revolted from the gaze of from four to six room-mates, who occupied the same dormitory with myself.

The Doctor expressly forbid my having a room by myself, but compelled me to sleep in this dormitory for one year, where, each night, my life was exposed, by the violent hands of these maniacs. I have been obliged to call up my attendant, some nights, to save being killed by them. Still the Doctor would not let her give me a room by myself.

I have sometimes thought the Doctor put me there for the very purpose of getting me killed by these maniacs.

I have been nearly killed several times, and I have appealed most earnestly to Dr. McFarland to save my life, but he would simply turn speechless away from me! I have also asked him to remove some of the most dangerous ones for my safety, and the only response would be, to bring in a more dangerous one!

I made no complaints, never expostulated with him, nor spoke a disrespectful or reproachful word to him, in vindication of my own rights. I never made any confession to him of wrong doing on my part, nor presented any plea for pardon or forgiveness.

Neither did he ever utter one word of explanation to me, why he was pursuing this course of treatment towards me. Neither could any one about the building ever get him to give them any reason for this change towards me, except:

"It is all for her good."

But to the credit of my attendants, the two sisters, Misses Tenny, and Mrs. Waldo, the matron, I am happy to add, they did not feel bound to co-operate in all the Doctor's plans to abuse and torment me. Indeed, the oldest Miss Tenny, openly and boldly refused to treat me as she did the maniacs. In her own language I can vindicate her, for her conduct corresponded with her words.

One day, after sympathizing with me in my privations, she said:

"Mrs. Packard, I shall not treat you as I do the other patients, notwithstanding the Doctor has ordered me to. I shall use my own judgment, and treat you as I think you deserve to be treated."

And indeed, she did treat me like a sister. I do not now see how she could have done better by me than she did; and to her kindness, and tender sympathy, do I owe much under God, for being able to escape the many dangers and trials which enveloped me, and come out from among them unharmed.

The two Misses Tenny deserve much credit also, for the reasonable and judicious treatment they bestowed upon the other patients in this ward. In fact, they were the first truly kind attendants I had then seen in the Asylum. They were the first I had found, who seemed to fear God more than they did Dr. McFarland.

Even the day following the Doctor's order to not let me leave the ward on any account, she took me to the trunk room herself, and asked me to select any articles from my wardrobe I wished, and let me take my sewing box, containing my knife, scissors, and spectacles, etc., and gave me a drawer in the dormitory table to keep them in, and put the key of it into my own pocket. This was a marked act of confidence on her part, for there were strict rules in this ward, that no knife or scissors be allowed in the ward, even in the hands of the attendants.

Mrs. Waldo, our matron, extended to me her practical sympathy, by doing many things for my comfort, which the Doctor forbid. She allowed me to use a covered box with a cushioned seat upon it, as a substitute for my trunk, and she bought me a metallic wash bowl after a while, which I used for nearly two years, for myself alone, and by a little strategy, she and Miss Tenny secured my mirror for our dormitory, as there was no mirror of any kind in the ward.

But this dauntless act well nigh cost me my document, for we had hardly got it hung on to its nail, when one of the wild patients seemed to be seized with a furious spite against it, and rushing up to the table beneath it, took article after article upon the table, and threw against it with almost incredible rapidity; but just before she had time to hurl the tumbler and pitcher against it, one of my room-mates seized the mirror from the nail, and rushed with it into another room, while the fragments of the tumbler and pitcher were flying in all directions, and the table upset with terrible violence. .

After this, I kept my mirror hid between my beds, except when I wished to use it, or let others use it. But I occasionally found some of the maniacs had taken it from its hiding place, and were using it as they pleased; but by the most gentle and adroit coaxing, I got it back again, safely. I once recollect of getting one to give it to me in exchange for an apple.

But this mirror, like myself, seemed destined to elude all attacks upon its destruction. The document within it, and the spirit within me, seemed alike invulnerable!

CHAPTER XIII.
My Reproof to Dr. McFarland for his Abuse of his Patients.

DR. McFARLAND: From the effect of my former document (my defence (1) ), I plainly see that my work here is not yet done. The office of a Reprover is put upon me; and this to me, the hardest of all crosses, I bear for Christ's sake.

Christ is now my only Master, and his will, not my own, is now my only choice. Oh! my Master, help me to do this duty under thy special guidance and dictation.

In Christ's own expressive language, I say, "Come let us reason together."

I do not approve of publishing your faults to the world until you have had an opportunity first, to amend your ways and your doings, by being faithfully, candidly and honestly informed of the true position in which you stand as Superintendent of this institution.

Dr. McFarland, it is my honest opinion that the principles upon which you treat the inmates of this institution, are contrary to reason, to justice, to humanity. They are treated in a very insane planner -- in a manner the best calculated to make maniacs that human ingenuity could devise. No human being can be subjected to the process to which you subject them here, without being in great danger of becoming insane; especially, if their physical or mental constitution is in the least degree impaired.

Your discipline is invariably calculated to increase their difficulties, and make them worse rather than better. And even a person with a sound mind, and a sound body, could hardly pass through a course here and come out unharmed, without; faith and such faith as is needed to sustain the soul in passing through its deepest earthly trials.

Indeed put your wives or your daughters through such a discipline as you put others' wives and daughters through here and I believe they could not come out unharmed.

Again, you are constantly breaking the insane laws of the State, by the course you are pursuing; and it would not require a person of more than a common share of intelligence to make this apparent to the Legislature. It is even a self-evident proposition.

Again, a person is very apt to become what they are taken to be. You may take the sanest person in the world, and tell him he is insane and treat him as you do here, it is the most trying ordeal a person can pass through, and not really become insane.

You seem to regard insanity as a crime! -- a capital crime! -- to be punished with death, by slow torture.

And I really think the world ought to know of the fact by a public notice that:

"Those guilty of the crime of insanity should be sent to Jacksonville Asylum, under the care of Dr. McFarland, and his ally Dr. Tenny. Here it will be sure to receive its condign punishment."

The only way a person can secure, or have the least reason to expect decent treatment here, is one who has been educated to observe with the utmost strictness, all the proprieties of conduct expected from the most genteel society -- and be such a Christian, as can bear abuse silently and meekly -- must be entirely non-resistant.

In short must have a perfect symmetry of development in the manifestation of his organization, however unfortunately unbalanced by nature; and they must say they are insane when they know they are not; and they must believe that others are better judges of their motives and intentions than themselves. In short, they must give up their identity to the Superintendent, for him to judge whether they are fit to live free to serve God according to the dictates of their own conscience, or not.

With each and even all these qualifications, he must expect that the exhibition of practical godliness, in the form of compassion for the suffering, or pity for the sick or unfortunate, is to be regarded as insanity, and attributed to a religious monomania.

Indeed it seems to me that the age has become degenerate to that degree, that a person cannot live a true natural life without being regarded as insane. And I do believe that much of what is called insanity at the present age, is only a specimen of true, pure, simple Christianity, such as the present corrupt age fails to recognize -- so different is it from the educated Christianity of creeds, sects, and denominational religion.

I believe that many in this asylum are such specimens of martyrdom for Christ and principle as the age produces, and that they are yet to be some of the brightest purest, noblest saints and angels around God's throne in heaven.

I fully believe that some of those whom you have placed on the lowest plane in this asylum, God will exalt to the highest among His sons and daughters in His Kingdom. Yes, there is strong reason to believe that the first in this institution ''shall be last and the last first."

Yea, in our insane asylums may be found the only real sane beings in the world, who, like the righteous of Sodom, are to become the world's saviours.

Dr. McFarland, compassion and its natural manifestation, is not insanity -- it is Christianity. Sympathy is not insanity -- it is Christianity. Humanity is not insanity -- it is Christianity. Rational, reasonable conduct is not insanity -- it is Christianity. The true instincts of human nature, in man or woman are not insanity -- they are Christian developments. Neither is an unbalanced organization insanity. Physical agony and its natural expression, are not insanity.

But, sir, each and all these, you treat as insanity, and you also treat them as a crime, deserving death, if you cannot subdue the patient without or short of death!

I fully believe there are martyrs, whom you have murdered here, whose souls from under God's altar are now crying to God to avenge on you their wrongs. I have heard one of your favorite attendants say to, and of, a patient:

"You deserve to die if you wont stop crying!" and, "it would have been only good enough for her if I had killed her!!"

I have proof from a personal observation of your own actions, and I am not afraid to meet the charge before any jury in the world, in 1860, that you, sir, have exhibited more evidence of insanity on your part, than I have seen on any person since I entered this institution! and I think your insanity deserves, and merits, imprisonment for life, in a state of extreme torture; and unless you do speedily repent, I believe that you like Nebuchadnezzar will really become insane-that is, devoid of reason like the beasts, and you will receive the same punishment for it that you have inflicted upon your helpless victims.

You have merited the reputation of a Nero, and that reputation you will yet have, unless you repent.

You must receive according to our deeds, like all God's other accountable agents.

I feel called of God, and I shall obey this call, to expose your character by exposing your actions, to the light of 1861, unless you repent. I have ability -- I have influence -- I have friends -- I have money -- I have God's promised aid, on which I rely more confidently than on each and all other instrumentalities combined to aid me in doing this. I have powerful friends of freedom who will help me to break the chains, with which you bind your slaves here in a slavery, worse than Southern slavery.

I cannot believe that there is any class of convicts or criminals in our land, who are not treated with more humanity -- with more decency -- with less of utter contempt and abuse, than you treat your insane patients here. Most criminals have some sort. of a trial before they are punished; but here, all that is required, is the misrepresentation of an angry attendant, who thus secures to her helpless victim the punishment, which her own conduct justly merits upon herself.

And besides, if one of their number -- the criminals -- has the moral courage to carry out the humane instincts of her God-given nature, by espousing the cause of the innocent victim of their cruelties, she must expect to do so at the expense of receiving the like punishment inflicted upon herself, for this desperate act of insanity on her part!

Horrible! But true -- true as facts -- numberless facts -- can make it.

And what is worse for you, sir, is the fact that this is known -- and known by those who are determined, by God's help, to have your character exposed and your insanity punished, as it should be, and will be unless you repent, and that speedily -- for, "The end is near and hasteth greatly."

The sword of God Almighty is already unsheathed. The work of destruction has commenced and "a quick work will the Lord make on the earth." Justice, humanity, and truth, will reign on the earth, henceforth; and whoever and whatever opposes these principles will be overthrown and destroyed; or they will repent by doing right, by acting as well as speaking honestly, truthfully; or, in other words, by doing unto others as they would wish to be done by.

You seem determined not to do so. If yon carry out this determination, you will meet as you deserve to receive, Pharaoh's destruction.

You can, like him, try to ease your troubled conscience by the sophism -- these are only the ravings of insanity. But, sir, they are not. They are the words of "truth and soberness," such as you will have to meet at God's bar; and I shall there witness against you, that I did faithfully warn you of your coming certain doom.

If I felt there was any hope, by appealing to your humanity, I might plead that, if you could be so reckless to your own interests, as to disregard this appeal, could you not, out of pity to your humane wife, and your innocent children, spare them the disgrace of your own iniquities being visited upon them.

Repentance -- dealing justly -- returning to their friends, the many, many individuals here, whom you unjustly, illegally retain, years and years, when you have no right to them a single day, is your only refuge.

Oh! the agonies of bereavement, hopeless -- which you are alone responsible for in God's sight, and will soon be found to be in man's sight also!

Your prison-bound captives, now objects of your contempt and utter criminal indifference, you are destined to see rising and applauded as the world's reformers -- while you are destined to sink into oblivion, and your name to rot, unless you repent.

The little stone of truth, cut out of the mountain without hands, and wielded by one, whom you may try to stigmatize as insane, will cause your overthrow, unless you repent.

I defy all your attempts to make me out an insane person. You cannot do it. My life is hid with Christ in God, where neither you nor devils can harm it. It is absolutely beyond your power to harm me. And all your attempts to do so, will be only working out your more speedy destruction.

Dr. Samington, the Methodist minister, in Manteno, is not the only person who will decide upon your qualifications for your position, by your decision respecting me. As he intimated, the man who would call me an insane person was not fit for his place. Perhaps it was for this very thing I was sent here, to let the State see that Dr. McFarland has yet to learn the very alphabet of his profession. To let the fact appear, that you are so insane yourself, that you cannot tell a sane from an insane person!

Now just test your transcendental machinery and power to make out a case of insanity, of so occult a nature, that no being in the universe has ever had any evidence of its existence on any plane whatever, either physical, mental, moral or spiritual.

I make my boast of a sound mind, in as nearly as sound a physical organization, as the civilized world can produce. I am a monument for the age, that a healthy organization can be maintained, by a strict conformity to the laws of nature.

I am also a monument for the age -- a standing miracle, almost -- of the power of faith to shield one from insanity, by having come out unharmed, through a series of trials, such as would crush into a level with the beasts, I may say, any one, who did not freely use this antidote.

Besides, Dr. McFarland, there are others in this institution, that have now become alike invulnerable. They are protected by a spiritual power that is invincible, and all your skillfully worked machinery for making maniacs, cannot make maniacs of them. As your friend, I advise you to beware! There be more for us, than there are against us.

You are the weak party. You had better make us your friends, by deserving our friendship. There is an influence indicated by the "wrath of the Lamb," which is dreadful to cope with. Let pure spiritual woman become exasperated beyond her powers of endurance, yea, until forbearance ceases to be a virtue, and I pity her adversary then.

"We are merciful and forgiving in our natures; but, Dr. McFarland, there is a point beyond which our forgiveness is impossible. Then is the time for you to fear her artillery. Let the prayer of the righteous be offered, that God will verify his promise contained in these words, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay," and woe then to that power, which has Omnipotence for its adversary!

Dr. McFarland, you may think I am severe. But they are only the "wounds of a friend." I do want to respect and love you. But I cannot, unless you will exhibit some humanity. I cannot love an inhuman man. I do not think you are, now, altogether inhuman. But I do think you are fast becoming so, by restraining all manifestations of sympathy and humanity towards your patients.

You not only seem to feel that it is wrong to treat us with the least degree of humanity, but even unreasonable, irrational, unnatural, and even the most uncivil conduct seems to you, as the most likely course to awaken the opposite virtue, in us. It appears to us, that the more unnatural, the more perverted, the more insane treatment you can secure to us, the more reason we have to expect to become sane and reasonable ourselves.

The principle has just flashed upon my mind by which you expect to cure insanity, and this principle is faithfully applied to your patients, viz.:

"Evil of the like kind must be used to correct an evil," that is, you act as though the more insane the treatment bestowed, the more likely to effect a cure of insanity! You seem entirely averse to even meeting us on the plane of rationality.

I cannot hold converse with any one who will not manifest more rationality and common sense than you do in these wards.

For example, last Saturday night, I could not talk with you in response to those "beats of your hand!" I do not know how to meet you on so low a plane of rationality or intellect as you come about us with, and seem to expect our response as insane as your introduction; and there is not one in our hall (if I except Mrs. Fisher, and even she expresses more when she does speak) but shows more intelligence in their intercourse with me, than you do, in our wards.

Even when I, in as lady-like a manner as I possibly could do it, went to your parlor, Sabbath afternoon, and asked you if you did not pity us, for our disappointment in not having chapel service; your only response was:

"Oh! you must read to them."

But, at the same time, must have nothing to read!

Indeed, this is a more insane act than I know how to perform for your patients.

But, by pressing my suit, I did get some old papers to read, plainly saying:

"Good enough for insane beings."

And, if I attempt to manifest even intelligence enough to express a preference for the news as found in the late papers, I must only expect some renewed expression of insult and indignity, derision and scorn.

Again, when I told yon, in as lady-like manner as I could, that my room was so cold that a cloth would freeze in it, and I was obliged to go to bed to keep sufficiently warm, not to expose my health; you simply turned speechless away, as much as to say:

"Insane people don't know whether they are cold or hot, neither do I care."

No wonder, Dr. McFarland, that I do not seek you as a comforter, a friend, a brother. I do avoid you, out of respect to my feelings as a human being,

Oh! Dr. McFarland, it is hard for me, with my intellect and my Christianity, to put up with such treatment, from a human being, who has a form like God. I can't understand you, I can't see what you can mean to treat me so.

I used, at first, when I heard complaints of wrongs, to tell the patients

"Go with them to Dr. McFarland, he is our friend, we can confide in him."

But they would reply," it is of no use, he will turn from us in disdain, speechless!"

And now I know, from both sad experience and observation, that it is too true, you are not our friend. You are our tormentor, and we avoid you to save our feelings.

What is it that causes such a wail of horror to pervade this house, at the intelligence of a now arrival?

And what causes the thrill of joy at the discharge of a patient, when they leave exclaiming:

"I am thankful to get away from this place with my life?"

"What means the oft repeated expression on the part of both the patients and the employees:

"If there is any hell in the universe, I believe it is here?"

"It is almost impossible to do right here -- no encouragement whatever."

"If it is possible to do right in hell, we can do right here," &c., &c.

Oh! Dr. McFarland, can you cause such a state of things and not be an insane man?

I really fear that Nebuchadnezzar's punishment has already so far been felt, by you, that you are past the power of reason to move you. I have even now tried this, my last appeal upon you, in defiance of the oft repeated instruction:

"It is of no use -- you cannot affect the doctor -- he is adamant itself."

Yes, your own wife has told me: "Writing will be of no use, whatever."

"But it will be of use -- it will clear my skirts of the guilt of your own lost soul -- lost, in spite of warning and rebuke. And I shall receive from my Saviour the plaudit, "she hath done what she could" for suffering humanity under Dr. McFarland's charge.

And, although I speak no more to you upon the subject, I shall not relinquish my purpose, until both the Trustees and the Legislature are importuned, by facts, to trust no more human beings under your care, until you have been disciplined in an insane asylum, yourself, until you can claim to give evidence of being a sane man, by your own actions.

You need not sneer at this. I have hundreds on my side, already; such men as the one who told me himself, that he believed this Asylum was conducted more like a penitentiary than an insane asylum. He has had a wife here for years, and made no better by your punishments.

Many men have had wives and daughters here, whose testimony is credited in spite of your calling it "their insanity."

The world are no longer to give more credit to testimony than to their own observation. Those that you call insane, others do not. You have stood upon your position, now you must stand upon your own acts.

And of one thing you may rest assured, the time for downtrodden and oppressed women to have their rights, has come. Her voice and her pen are going to move the world; and if you wish to be popular, despise her not!

Listen to your wife's instinctive teachings of humanity and kindness. Her character is being appreciated here, because her actions show, she pities us, and seems to think, how would I like to have my Hatty treated as other Hatties are?

You cannot stop her. She has begun the Christ-like work of ameliorating the condition of your patients, and God is with her, and her work will prosper. If you oppose it, all the worse for you: for it is of God, and you cannot overthrow it. She is destined to rule this Hospital, and to rule it with kindness and sympathy. Her well begun work will end gloriously.

I say again, gain woman's friendship if you want to be popular now. But if you will not, God will dispose of you. We will leave you, for some more hopeful field on which to bestow our labors of kindness and love. We have nothing to do to our enemies but to do them good, and God does our avenging for us.

This message is a kind act from a kind friend and sister. She longs to have the act appreciated; for your manly nature cannot understand the effort it has cost my feelings, to write this message to you. For I know it must cost you mental agony, if you are not past hope. And Oh! it is hard for woman to see or know that another heart suffers. Her nature is sensitive to the highest degree to suffering, especially in others. I really believe some women had rather suffer themselves, than see others suffer.

But I am forgetting my office -- the office of a Reprover -- my nature tempts me astray.

Oh! Dr. McFarland, you are really losing the manifestation of your reason, if you are not losing it entirely. And, as for your humanity, I have no hope, since you propose sending me back to my tyrannical, brutal husband.

Indeed, I tell my fellow captives, I will stay with them, and cast in my lot with them, and I will spare no pains, until I work their deliverance out of your hands. For you are incapacitated for your office, and I shall so make it appear to the world, unless I see some reason for changing my purpose.

I will not suffer humanity to be so abused, as you do here, without lifting my voice against it -- and it will be heard! There are men of influence in the world who believe me to be a true woman, as well as a Christian, and all the transcendental powders you may choose to employ to make me out insane, will not be believed, in face of myself -- my own words and acts.

And you are not always to be allowed to hold me as your prisoner. My days are numbered here, and you cannot add one to that number. I shall soon be free -- free to serve God according to the dictates of my own conscience, with none to make me afraid any more. The lions about me are all chained; they cannot go beyond their chains. The highway upon which I tread is beyond their reach longer to worry or deter me from duty.

I came here a sane person -- I shall leave a sane person -- I shall make a sane report of my sane observations here, since it now seems my duty, from appearances, to present.

Remember, Dr. McFarland, "The earth helped the woman."

I shall be protected in exposing your character to the world, by publishing the volume of facts I have already collected from competent legal testimony.

You just imprison me another three months, and I engage to transfer the records of the adamantine pen, with the steel pen, for the iron pen of the press of 1861.

It shall be a volume prefaced by both this and my former document, and it shall contain a record of truths, such as I am willing to meet at the bar of final judgment, and such as will place you, where you deserve to be placed, on a level with the beasts.

I express no opinions, especially on paper, but what I can support by sound argument. The opinions herein expressed, I stand ready to prove, if proof is called for, from facts -- stubborn facts.

Dr. McFarland, you have employees here, in this building, who have given such testimony as the following. It is ready for use, viz: --

" Dr. McFarland keeps persons here, that are not insane to my certain knowledge."

"He keeps them after they are able to go home, for months and years, and in some cases, insanity is caused, by hope too long deferred for nature to endure."

"I never was in a place so inhuman in all my life."

"A person might work here until they drop down dead, and no one cares."

"Dr. McFarland seems to require more of insane persons than he would expect from sane ones."

"The patients are so badly treated here, that I could never think of having a friend of mine ever come here for treatment.''

"I have seen patients choked nearly to death, so that their faces were black and their tongues hung out of their mouths."

"If it were not for losing my place here, I would expose Dr. McFarland to the world, for the cruelty he practices upon his patients."

This is but a specimen of the kind of testimony I have on hand, in sad abundance, and which, with my own eye and ear, witness testimony would make a ponderous volume.

How would you like to see such facts as these in print?

A lady of refinement -- of pure and virtuous character -- of kind and nobly generous sympathies and of a nature remarkably true to the instincts of a true woman, before being here thirty-six hours, was stripped of all her clothing, except a torn chemise, and laid upon her back on the floor, while Dr. Tenny sat astride her naked body to hold her down, while your attendants could strap their sister, under these circumstances, as if she were a tiger!!

Must not a person possess an uncommon elasticity of temperament, ever to rise above the degrading influence of such an outrage upon her womanly nature!

From whom is repentance and forgiveness demanded -- from you, her tormentor -- or from her, your innocent victim?

Again, would you like to have it known, that this same lady was subjected to the torture of the straps one whole night, for simply insisting that the request of a dying woman should be granted, viz., that a cat should not be locked up in her room all night with her alone, lest she would gnaw her emaciated limbs before life was extinct?

Because she saved the disgrace of having such a stigma brought upon the State, of a patient being eaten alive by a cat, she must be strapped as her punishment!!

Another aggravation of your guilt is this -- that you put upon our merciful sex the credit of the inhumanity of your acts, and claim for yourself the humanity, by compelling them to do, what you, in your boasted humanity, in words, claim the privilege of undoing. They must be called to hear the disgrace of locking the straps, while you claim the credit of unlocking them, to show your humanity to your patients!!

Dr. McFarland, your patients are too sane for you to shield your true character from them by such subterfuges. And, how can you expect, that a heart-searching God will not see through this covert of lies, and not bring you to justice?

He does! -- He will! --

Dr. McFarland, Bell Norton is no more insane than Peter was, when he cursed and swore and denied his Master. Satan entered into him, tempted by the barbarity of the soldier's treatment of his loving Master.

Satan enters Bell Norton, tempted by your barbarous treatment of her and her kindred associates.

Did Christ, your pattern, torture Peter with straps to punish him, because he, true to the noble impulses of his generous, self-sacrificing impulsive nature, threatened and even tried to kill in self-defence of his own and others' rights?

No. He "looked upon him," a look of compassion -- of pity.

It subdued him. Straps never would have done it. Straps and torture of the most savage kind can never subdue Bell Norton.

But sympathy will, and that alone.

Yes, Bell has, through this influence alone, like Peter, wept bitterly, and she has with Peter, an equal claim to the Lord's forgiveness; for she has like him, manifested her repentance in the same manner which Peter did; and it is not for me to judge whether her repentance is not equal to Peter's in sincerity.

How can you be so insane as to act as though you expected to make a new organization of Bell by torture?

You may and have already done enough of this kind of business to kill or make insane for life, any ordinary individual.

But she, I am satisfied, is proof against your demoniacal powers. God, himself, has fitted her to cope with this devil in human form, and she has, through his power alone, come off conqueror. Yes, the victor's crown awaits her, for she has won it. She has maintained her right to her own instinctive nature, inviolate, in spite of your vain attempts to wrest them from her.

Yes, Bell is the same "woman of nature" which God made her to be, as a model for the age. You may yet vainly regret what you have made Bell suffer on your account, by seeing your lovely Hattie subjected to a similar process to make her organization like Bell Norton's.

But Hattie's tormentors will find, like Bell's tormentors, that Hattie can only be the being God has made her, as Bell can be only Bell.

But these, their tormentors, will find to their sorrow, that an indignant God is their adversary, for their trying to mar his image by striving to undo his own well done works.

Why are you not willing that Bell should be just the true woman of nature which God has, for his own benevolent purpose sent to our world, at a time when a true woman is such an anomaly, that she is hardly recognized or owned as a sane person, so insane and perverted has the character of woman become?

Dr. McFarland, if you see many more years on this earth, I fully believe that you would be proud to see your Hattie just such a simple, natural, true woman as Bell is.

Dr. McFarland, my work for you is nearly done. I therefore, here present you my bill of five dollars, for services performed for your family, viz.: for twelve days' work of cutting, fitting and making dresses for your wife and daughters, at forty-two cents a day, I charge you five dollars as a just debt. I claim it as a debt of honor. If you do not choose to meet the claim on this ground, you may expect to see it presented as a legal claim -- such as will collect it.

And let me assure you, this is not the only claim on your purse, which your patients are yet to demand, in behalf of the State, for retaining us illegally here, when we ought to be supporting ourselves. And, I assure you, this draft upon your finances will not be a light one. You will need your eight dollars a day to meet all our claims, and your family may suffer for want of the eight dollar a day stream with which your garden is now watered.

This eight dollar stream is to be dried up, and your garden to wither in consequence.

And so is your great oak of popularity to become leafless without affording you a protection. Your high-sounding words of honor are mere empty bubbles without the acts of honor.

Honorable acts, not honorable words merely, is all than can now save you.

Your faithful Eva's unrequited services are not your only outstanding debts. You have had, and still have, many, many faithful, unappreciated, unrequited services performed for you, while their hearts are almost bursting with indignation at your selfish indifference to their interests.

Again, Dr. McFarland, there was an eye-witness to that kiss which you bestowed upon me in your office, when you thought we were alone!

Your true friend, E. P. W. Packard, now takes her final leave of you in your present detestable character. Men and women are henceforth to be my chosen associates. And when all traces of humanity are obliterated from a human form, I shall regard that form only as a personified demon, whom I am in duty bound to avoid, by holding no fellowship whatever with him afterwards.

Farewell, Dr. McFarland,
Your true friend,
Jacksonville, Nov. 12,1860.
E. P. W. PACKARD.

P. S. -- There are those in this ward, who have given me their own voluntary pledge, in view of this document in these words, viz:

"Mrs. Packard, I will stand by you in defence of that document if it costs me my life."

"I will back that up, Mrs. Packard, if I die in doing it."

"If there is a hole or a dungeon in this building where Dr. McFarland can put you as a punishment for your writing that document, I will go with you and there die with you, before I will recant one word of all you have said there, for it is the truth, just as true as truth can make it."

Dr. McFarland, I say to you, beware!

The use of our God-given rights of opinion and rights of speech are now to be protected to us by our only protector -- our Master -- our Husband. And we are not afraid of this Husband proving recreant to His high, noble office of protecting His spouse, as the weaker vessel, who claims such protection.

You, our boasted protectors, have proved yourselves despots, whom we can only despise.

Remember, Dr. McFarland, this is your last chance. The fatal dyke is but a few moments ahead of you. Repentance or exposure!

E. P. W. P.

CHAPTER XIV.
My Occupation.

As my readers now find me located in my new position, they may, perhaps, like to know how I occupied myself. As it was in consequence of my defence of others' rights and privileges that I had lost my own, I now felt impelled by the same spirit, to make others' wants my care, rather than care for myself, by neglecting them. Indeed, I have found that the exercise of this spirit, is, in reality, the best antidote I can find for an oppressed spirit.

Paradoxical as it may seem, I think the best way to train ourselves to bear heavy burdens, is to bear the burdens of others.

It now seems to me, that unless I had known how to practically apply this principle, I must have inevitably sunk under my burdens; but the elasticity of spirit which benevolent acts alone inspire, capacitates the spirit to rebound, where it would otherwise be crushed by the pressure put upon it.

And moreover, I summoned the will-power also to my rescue. I determined not to be crushed, neither would I submit to see others crushed. In other language, I determined to be a living reprover of the evils existing here.

I did not intend to defend one line of conduct with my tongue and pen, and endorse a different line by my actions. I knew that preaching godliness had far less potency for good, than practical godliness.

My sermon had already been preached; now, all that I had to do, was to put its principles into practice. I had asked Dr. McFarland to ameliorate the condition of his patients; and now determined to aid him in this good work, to the fullest extent of my ability. Therefore, for months and years from this date, I worked for this object almost exclusively.

The attendants were very negligent in their duties; still, I did not feel disposed to blame or reprove them for these neglects. Feeling that this duty fell on the Superintendent, and having already given him the reproof which was his due, I felt that I had no right to teach his attendants, only by the silent influence of example. In short, I tried to fill up on my part the defects of theirs.

I commenced this line of conduct on the Sabbath morning succeeding my removal. As I have said, the patients were in an exceedingly filthy condition, and therefore their personal cleanliness was plainly my first most obvious duty.

This morning I commenced by coaxing as many of the patients as I could, to allow me to wash their face, neck and hands in a bowl of warm, clean, soft suds; and then shampooed as many of their filthy "live" heads as I could find time to do before chapel service.

When the Doctor visited the ward that morning, I cannot forget the look of surprise he cast upon the row of clean faces and combed hair he witnessed on the side seats of the hall. Simply this process alone so changed their personal appearance, that it is no wonder he had to gaze upon them to recognize them. Their rough, tangled, flying and streaming hair looked, when I began, as if a comb had never touched them. He simply bowed to me and said:

"Good morning, Mrs. Packard!"

And then seated himself upon one of these seats, and silently watched my movements while I pursued this my own chosen calling.

Without even alluding to the losses he had subjected me to, I simply remarked:

"Doctor, I find there is always something that can be done for the benefit of others, and you have now assigned me quite a missionary field to cultivate!"

"Yes," was his only response.

He did not so much as ask me how I liked my new room, or my new associates! but after seeing me shampoo one or two of his patients, he arose and left the hall, speechless.

The next day, Monday morning, I commenced the slow work of reconstruction and recuperation of the human faculties in sober earnest. I first obtained from my accommodating attendant, a bowl of warm saleratus water and a quantity of castile soap, a soft cloth and two towels, and a bowl of clear soft water. I then took one patient at a time into her room alone, and there gently stripped her and gave her a thorough sponge bath of this saleratus and water and soap, and then rinsed her well off with the pure water. I then laid aside all her wet, filthy, saturated and offensive garments, and put clean ones on in their place.

After combing her hair, I would introduce her into the ward as a neat, clean, tidy lady, who was going to be an example in these virtues to all others! being careful, however, to prove the truth of these compliments by tending upon her as I would, my cleanly dressed infant. By vigilance on my part, her clothes might be kept comparatively clean and dry for two or three days, before another change would be necessary.

Having thus cleaned the occupant of a room, I then cleaned the room in the same manner, with the aid of a pail of strong saleratus and water and scrubbing brush I would at length succeed in finding the coat of paint I was seeking for, which had to be done by dint of patient perseverance equal to that required to find the skin of its occupant.

It is no exaggeration to say that I never before saw human beings whose skins were so deeply embedded beneath so many layers of dirt as those were. The part cleaned would contrast so strikingly with the part not cleaned, that it would be difficult to believe they belonged to the same race, if on different individuals.

But the scrubbing of the walls and the floor was not the only portion of the room to be cleaned, by any means. It was no insignificant task to put the bedstead and the bed into a suitable condition for a human being to occupy. In many instances, the husk mattress I found completely rotted through with constantly repeated showers upon it, and this rot had in most instances become a black as soot, and retained an effluvia most difficult to tolerate.

With the aid of the Misses Tenny I had all these rotten beds removed and emptied, and the ticks washed; then I cut out the mouldied part, and supplied its place with new cloth, and had it filled again with fresh straw or husks, which completed this part of the business. The sheets and blankets then passed through the cleaning process; but the white counterpanes which covered up these filthy nets did not need cleaning.

They were kept white and clean, by being folded up every nights and laid upon the seats in the hall, and in the day time they were displayed upon the beds to advertise the neatness and comfort of the house and beds!

But if a sick patient should chance to lie down upon one of these advertisers of neatness, the white spreads, she was liable to receive some of the severest punishments of this inquisitorial prison, for this great offence against the "display of the house."

The cleaning of one patient and one room, together with the waiting upon those I had cleaned, took one day's labor. And this I continued, day after day, for about three weeks, before I got these eighteen patients and their rooms all cleaned; and by this time the process needed to be repeated.

This I continued to do for nearly one year, until others began to wake up to the necessity of doing likewise in their wards, as ours was by this time reported to be the neatest and best kept ward in the whole house; even the odor of which could not be surpassed in purity.

This contagion for amelioration extended even to the trustees, and as the result, at Dr. McFarland's suggestion, each ward was subsequently furnished with a nice bathing tub, which the Trustees designed only for the comfort of the patients, as the Doctor urged the need now of the weekly bathing of all the patients.

But I am sorry to add, this great luxury, like the institution itself, has degenerated into the greatest torment to the patient. The bath-room is regarded by the prisoners there as the "calaboose" used to be by the slaves at the South.