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, which troubled your father so much, 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.
O, 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 here, 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 confident, their counsellor, their bosom friend. O, 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.