| Table of Contents | |
|---|---|
| PAGE. | |
| [PREFACE.] | [3] |
| [REMARKS.] | [33] |
| [CLOSING REMARKS TO CHRISTIANS.] | [37] |
| [ERRATA.] | [42] |
PREFACE.
Feeling that the public is very much deceived concerning the treatment and situation of a poor afflicted class of the human family, who are placed in the McLean Assylum at Charlestown, by their relatives, and are left in the hands of strangers, subjected to the treatment of those whose hearts are hardened by being long accustomed to human suffering, and who are ignorant and unqualified, I will expose this matter to the public, in behalf of the afflicted, in connection with the awful, brutal outrage that has been committed upon me in consequence of indisposition resulting from hard labor and persecution, so the public may be warned against placing their friends there, especially if they would not have them ill-treated or suffer unnecessarily.
First, I shall give a short sketch of my life down to the time when I was carried to the Hospital; then an account of the CRIME in connection with the treatment I received there, until I was taken out. I feel that this should particularly interest the christian world; but whether it is believed or not, I am determined to publish it, that the people of God may take care of their own people in time of persecution at the expense of one's life, whether father, mother, brother, or sister step in between. The unconverted do not understand spirituality, therefore a weak, persecuted christian should not be consigned to their hands. If others who have suffered this cruelty before me (as Dr. Fox says that both male and female christians have been destroyed there before) had published and exposed the wicked crime to the world, I might have been saved from suffering here and hereafter. It is covered up under the garb of "derangement," but I am willing to let the world know it, that others may be saved from these awful outrages of the wicked at the present day. I know that the world in general is ignorant of this crime—of the fact that Doctors do possess knowledge of giving medicine to take away from a person the spirit of Christ,—but I have suffered it.
I was born in Westford, Mass. My father was a mechanic, and poor; my mother being often sick, with a family of 7 boys and 3 girls, we were all sent out young upon the world, to get our own living. I being the youngest girl, was left at home alone. The peculiar situation which I sustained in the family, being early disowned by my father as his lawful child, he being intemperate at the time, may be imagined. I was often the object of his wrath, though in his sober hours I was kindly treated by him, as he was a man of tender feelings. But my mother's affections were always alienated from me, and I always felt the want of a mother's love, and consequently became very unhappy. I determined to seek my own living and share the same fate of the rest of the family by buffeting a cold unfeeling world.
At the age of fifteen I resorted to the factories in Lowell, where I found employment and became expert at the business. Knowing that I had myself to take care of and no one to depend upon, I was ambitious and often asked my overseer for the privilege of tending double work, which was often granted; and as I had the means of providing for my own wants and some to spare, I became restless and often wished I had the means to go to school, as my mother often told her children to get learning—it was what the world could not take from us; (but O, alas! mine has been taken from me by medicine, being given to me in an artful manner to harden my brains, and the brain is the seat of the mind and the mind is the store-house of knowledge) and I felt the want of it as I became advanced in years and went into society. I soon began to make arrangments to place myself at some school. I went home at the age of eighteen and went to the Academy in Westford three or four months, and then, in the year 1834, the first of May, I started for New Hampton in company with a young lady from Boston, she being my only acquaintance. I found the school very pleasant, and the teachers were ardently pious. It was now that I felt that God had often called after me and I had refused to obey him for my teacher said without the mind was enlightened by the Spirit of Christ it was not prepared for knowledge. This increased the carnal state of my heart against religion, for it appeared to me like foolishness, for there was nothing but the simple religion of Jesus Christ, no disputing, no sectarian spirit, and I was surrounded by the prayers of my teachers and the pious scholars. But I withstood all the entreaties through the summer term. I was determined not to get religion when there was much said about it, for I looked upon it as excitement, as many others foolishly call it. There were about one hundred and five scholars, and at the end of the term all but three of us professed to have an interest in Christ. During the vacation I could not throw off the conviction that had seized hold of my mind, that God in his mercy had spared my life, and permitted me to enjoy this last privilege. At the commencement of the Fall term as usual, we all assembled on Sunday morning—the professors in the Hall above, while the unconverted were in the Hall below—to hear the Scriptures explained. Miss. Sleeper, one of the teachers, that assembled with us, came directly to me after the exercises were over and asked me if I felt as I did during the last term. I told her no. She said she was very glad of it and hoped I should not leave off seeking until I found the Savior. I felt that I had committed myself, that I now could not draw back, that I must persevere on and let the world know that I needed a Saviour to save me from acting out the wicked state of my heart. I could not throw it off. On Monday evening all the unconverted were invited by our much loved teacher, Miss. Haseltine, to meet her at the Hall. Accordingly I went in company with several other young ladies. After reading the Scriptures and addressing us very affectionately, she asked us to kneel down and join her in prayer. Accordingly I did so, but I thought I was more hardened than ever; and felt ashamed that I was on my bended knees; but wishing to act from principle and to prove whether there was any reality in what my teacher said about religion, I was determined to persevere on, although it was contrary to my carnal state of heart. Accordingly I told every one that I meant to know the real religion of Jesus Christ and live up to it, if it was what they said it was. I attended all the meetings and was willing to do any thing that I thought I ought to do; but I began to think that I had grieved the Holy Spirit and was about giving up seeking any longer until I should feel, as very often I did before in meetings and then I should have religion. This was on Saturday, a fortnight after I was willing to own that I felt the need of an interest in Christ. On my way home from school, a young lady overtook me and inquired what was the state of my feelings, I frankly told her what was my conclusion. She then told me how she found the Saviour—how she sought three years; but all that time she said she was seeking conviction when she ought to have sought forgiveness and told me that I must seek for immediate forgiveness, and asked me if I was willing to. I told her that I would, for I found that I had been seeking conviction and was already convicted. Accordingly I went home, and after dinner took my Bible and retired alone to a grove not far distant, where I spent the afternoon in reading and praying, but did not find any change in my feelings. I was summonds to tea by the ringing of the bell. I went in and took my seat at the table, but while sitting there I thought I was acting foolishly, that I ought not to eat, drink, or sleep, until I found forgivness. I rose from the table and retired to my room and knelt down and asked God what I should do in order to be forgiven; then rose up and was sitting down by the table with my head upon my hand wondering what I should do, when something seemed to say to me, "open the door of your heart and admit me." I immediately thought I could not without I was better, but something said "no, now." I thought the next day being Sunday, I would, after I had been to church; but no, the voice said now—that I said I would. If Christ would but receive me, I would him just as I was. I thought I would. I rose and walked across the room, and was frightened to think what I had said; that I had entered into a covenant with God. At that time a young lady, Mary Ann Burbank, entered the room and asked me if I was going to meeting, as it was customary to have a female prayer meeting at the hall on Saturday evening. I told her yes. She said it was too late. I told her I was going, (I thought if they were just coming out I would go.) I put on my things, and she said she would go with me. Accordingly we went out of the house together and said nothing to each other. I thought of nothing in particular; but as we were walking and had got a rod or two from the house, I thought how fast I was walking, and how earnest I was to get there. I spoke to Miss Burbank and said that I never went to a place with so much eagerness in my life. She asked me if I felt better. I told her that I never was so happy in my life. She said she was glad; she had been recently baptized. I had before not liked her very well, but now I loved her with all my heart, because she had owned the Savior before the world. I immediately thought of the balls and parties that I had been to, and it seemed nothing to what it would be to get into a prayer meeting. It seemed that the Bible I had never read and that I knew nothing about it and when I tried to think of it the passages flowed into my mind faster than I could repeat; the first passage I thought of was the Greeks foolishness to the Jews, but to them that believe Christ the power of God unto salvation, and many others. It seemed that I stepped out of one world into another. I went into the hall and they were singing, and then they knelt down and prayed. A young lady prayed for me, seeing me on my knees. I longed to have her close her prayer to tell them what God had done for me. As we rose I opened my mouth and words flowed faster than I could speak, I blessed and praised God and asked them all to forgive me for the opposition that I had manifested towards them for their entreating me to be reconciled to God. There was great rejoicing over me. Some wept, some prayed, and some sang. It was a happy time. Some that were seeking seeing me so happy said they were determined to find the Savior that night and two young ladies that boarded with me did, to the joy of their souls. I felt that I had a new life to live and was determined to live it. I loved all the people of God, and my feelings soon began to be tried by seeing the divisions that were among them; but I was determined not to have any thing to do with it, but meant to keep the faith as it was once delivered to the Saints, that is, to keep the love previous to my conversion. I had always thought that immersion was right, and still thought so; but still I loved to hear sinners called to repentance, and to join in prayer with any one that told how Christ saved them daily from sinning. I felt that I must own the Savior in all my ways and words, for it was what I loved, and I hated the sin that was in my heart and often cried out, O wretched person that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of sin and death. I longed to be freed from sin. I soon began to think of becoming a missionary, that is, to go to the far distant heathen who had never heard of the Gospel. I asked God what I should do. I was determined to do what God gave me to do at the expense of my life, for I counted not my life dear unto me, and soon the spirit led me in prayer for my parents, but how could they be converted without the way of salvation was explained to them? They did not attend public worship; they believed that they should be saved when they should die; but I had found a Saviour that saved me here from sinning, for the love of God constrained me to lay down all earthly enjoyments when they came in contact with any thing that I must do for Christ. I thought I would go to them and tell them, thinking they would believe me. Accordingly on my return from school I visited my parents, but not until the Spring, on fast day, with my youngest brother. We passed the day very agreeably. I told them that I had met with a change, but said but little, as I did not wish to argue the point, for they were both against me and said they thought I had got my brain turned by studying too much. But I knew I must bear this and greater things if I wished to do my heavenly Father's will, which was my meat and drink. I left home without praying for them, which I felt condemned for. I resolved if God would spare my life to go home again I would bear the cross of Christ. During the winter my mind had been much tried about the two ordinances; and what to do, I did not know, for I wished to give a reasonable answer why I went with one class of God's people more than another. I boarded with a Mr Washburn, a very pious man belonging to the First Congregational church in Lowell.—I said nothing to him about forms and ceremonies, nor he to me; but I came to the conclusion to be an immersed Congregationalist, because they admitted all to the communion that had professed the Savior before the world. I concluded to return to school, and called upon Mrs Tilton, one of my acquiantance that belonged to the Baptist Church. She asked me why I had not been in to see her, and she thought my mind had been tried about baptism. I told her not in the least, for I always thought immersion was right but my mind was tried about the communion—why all the people of God could not come together. She said that she had a little book she would lend me to read. I took it and went home and read it; it was upon Church and Christian fellowship. I thought it explained it to my mind and told her I was thankful for it; but as I was to start for New Hampton the next day could not be baptized there. I arrived at New Hampton the second week in May, 1835, and met once more my much loved teachers. During the Summer term my mind was much taken up with my studies, and the religious state of feeling was very low. There were no conversions during this term. At the commencement of the Fall term our teacher addressed us upon the subject and hoped that each one would do something to win sinners to Christ. All felt it, and again God poured out his Holy Spirit and sinners were slain; my health was poor and I was about leaving school on account of my limited means. My teacher asked me if I was not going to be baptized before I left school, together with some other young ladies. I had always thought I was willing, should the opportunity be presented. Here I had a trial, but went forward with some others, determined never to disobey God of keeping his commandments or doing whatever the love of God constrained me to do, however crossing it was to my carnal feelings. I returned to Lowell and resumed my labor, still feeling determined to procure an education to go to the poor heathen to carry the news of salvation; but my means became limited and I was obliged to use prudence in reference to my dress and spending my time. My oldest sister proposed to have me come and work with her at the tailoress business in Boston, and this sister I had ardently loved and looked up to for advice. But I was making very good wages at that time and thought it not best for me to go then; although I wanted a trade to help me along in case I should go among the poor and destitute. But as my sister Nancy's health was not good at that time I proposed for her to go to Boston and I would come in the Fall or early in the Winter, which was agreed to. I concluded to go to work with my sister until the slack time should come on in the Winter, and then I thought I should go to Charlestown Seminary to finish my education, as we were all to board ourselves. Accordingly I left the mill again and when I got to my sister's they were just on the point of separating. I stepped in between and proposed to reconcile matters for we all belonged to the Baptist Church, and for own character and the cause of Christ I thought it best to keep together. But it was not possible, we could not agree, though sister Mary and I had never before disagreed, and probably never should had it not been for sister Nancy. It was a sore trial to me and I often thought that my last earthly friend was taken from me. I had loved sister Mary until it had become a sin in the sight of a holy God, that I had been governed about my spiritual life by her in part, and that He saw fit to seperate us. Through the invitation of my brother Eben's wife I went to stay with her and had regular pay lest there should be any room for unpleasant feelings, I spent the winter with her at Jamaica Plain very happy, but I began to think that I was not living as I ought to; that I could be the means of doing more good by working in the mill and getting more money for the cause of Christ and come in contact with more minds to pursuade them to become reconciled to God. But again I was tried about pursuing an education, not having means to do with. What to do I did not know, and at times was almost tempted to ask assistance of my brothers, but for fear of being refused I dared not, for they never seemed to take any interest in the welfare of their sisters. My oldest sister was often sick and was not helped by them: therefore I was determined to do what I could without asking help. I left my brother's in June 1836, not decided what to do. Aware that in some branches I was not qualified sufficiently to take a young ladies' school, I went home not decided what to do, but thought I would go with a young lady that I was acquainted with in Westford under private instruction, and accordingly went and stayed with her till Fall. A new Precepter was about opening the Academy in Westford, and I resolved to go the Winter term, and accordingly provided myself with a boarding place at Mr Niehols, where I found it very pleasant. They were both pious and I became very much attached to Mrs N. and found the school very pleasant for the branches that I wished to pursue; but on account of a change in this family I was under the necessity of getting another boarding place; then I went to a Mr George Davis' where I had always been acquainted, and found every thing pleasant and was happy. But my health began to fail me, being troubled with the Ticdoloreux.