Removed to that place of death, the doctor called to see him--that doctor on whom he had called in vain for help when help was possible. As soon as he entered, his patient said--"Doctor you have come too late; I threw myself into your hands when you might have saved me, but you would not, and now I must die!" The appeal fell on his conscience, and he acknowledged his fault, but it was too late. He did, it is true, all he could after this to save him, but to no effect, and he died in a few weeks, calm, reconciled and prepared. After he was confined, his mother came to wait upon him, and watch his closing eyes.--There is no limit to the affections of a mother. Holy nature prompts her to the place where her child is suffering. The iron doors, the massy walls, the dungeon's gloom, are no terrors to her imagination, if her son is there. Danger cannot intimidate; the world's scorn cannot deter; the crime and ingratitude of the child are forgotten. It is her _child_, and this omnipotent argument makes her forget herself to minister to the wants of her offspring. I could fill a volume with what my eyes have seen of a mother's fond, undying affection; and I cannot close this account of human suffering better, than by entreating all who have the power over young persons, to treat them in such a manner that their mothers may not be under the necessity of imputing the death of their children to their unfeeling neglect, and reckless severity. SANDFORD. I introduce this case to shew how sick men are often treated, after their keeper consents to give them medicine. He complained of not being very well, and was taken to his room, and ordered to take an emetic. This is a prescription for _every_ thing, and is designed as a punishment rather than a remedy. The room was cold, and he was left alone to undergo the medicine. The emetics are generally given in great and unusual quantities, that the effect may be the more painful, and how many have been killed by such prescriptions, the day of Judgment will publish. Sandford took his dose, and soon the effect convulsed him, and took away his senses. How long he had lain in this state no one knows. When the keeper entered his room he found him on the cold stone floor, and to all appearance dead. He was taken immediately to the hospital, and no one can imagine the acuteness of his sufferings, after he became sensible. He bled most profusely at the mouth, and it was evident that the convulsions into which he was thrown had ruptured some blood vessel in the region of the lungs, and for two years he was not able to leave the hospital, and never did he do another hour's work in the prison. How long he lived after he was released from the prison, I know not, but it is certain that he suffered more than to have died a thousand deaths, and it is not probable he ever enjoyed a well day after he took the fatal emetic.