stood looking at me, with Miss Barber. My jaws were unlocked. He made the remark to Miss Barber that he did not know whether it was the fulfillment of the prophecy, "there shall be knashing of the teeth," or whether it was hallooing "glory to God," so much. Oh, how little they knew of the reason of my losing my ballance. It was my exerting myself so much after I had become a spiritual being, having no kind friend to do for me. But I said nothing; I asked for the privilege of writing, which was granted. I wrote to brother Stephen's wife, and asked her to come and see me that afternoon, as soon as she got the letter, for I could not believe that a female could be accessory to such a crime, although I well recollect how angry she appeared to be every time I spoke of what God had done for me. The Doctor said he would send it. That day, Saturday, passed away without bringing any one to see me. I thought of my kind christian friends, my loved friend Nancy Sanborn; but now forever separated from her, no more could we fondly anticipate going to the far West together, to be the instruments, in the hands of God, of expanding the immortal mind in knowledge, and teach the way of salvation to poor sinners. But now taken by the cunning craftiness of my relations, I was enclosed within bolted doors and grated windows, where I could not make my escape, nor my friends prevent the brutal outrage that they were committing upon me.--Reader, for a moment imagine yourself in my situation. If you are not a christian you do not wish to undergo pain, neither do you desire to be miserable, nor to be separated from your friends, with entire strangers that you never saw before, for it is contrary to the laws that God has written in your nature. But I was a poor factory girl, without any rich father to protect me, or pious mother to plead my cause, and I could say with David, I was an alien from my mother's womb, to my mother's children, and in my weakness they sprang upon me. They would not let my christian friends do for me, neither would they do for me themselves. I had friends that would have gladly done for me; long and dear acquaintances, both christians and unconverted, who would have opened their doors to me before they would have seen me the third day of my illness turned out of doors by Miss Lufkin, in my weakness, because I wished to serve God in spirit and in truth, according to my profession, and carried off into a hospital or a devil's den here upon earth, for I call these Insane Assylums nothing less. But it is not the imprisonment or the cruel treatment that I received there that I speak of, for I would have borne that without a murmur. But it is the medicine they gave me that racked and tortured and killed the spirit of Christ within me. It is that spirit that gives a person a hatred to sin, supports them up under any torture. Christian reader, whatever name you may bear, it is you and you only that can truly feel for my distressed