It is the insanity in chronic form which escapes asylum care and custody except in its exacerbations; it is the insanity of organism which gives so much of the erratic and unstable to society, in its manifestations of mind and morals; it is the form of unstable mental organism which, like an unstrung instrument jangling out of tune and harsh, when touched in a manner to elicit in men of stable organisms only concord of sweet, harmonious sounds; it is the form of mental organism out of which, by slight exciting causes largely imaginary, the Guiteaus and Joan d'Arcs of history are made, the Hawisons and Passanantis and Freemans, and names innumerable, whose deeds of blood have stained the pages of history, and whose doings in our day contribute so largely to the awful calendar of crime which blackens and spreads with gore the pages of our public press. We may cherish the sentiment that it were base cowardice to lay hand upon the lunatic save in kindness; and yet restrain him from himself and the community from him. We may couple his restraints with the largest liberty compatible with his welfare and ours; we may not always abolish the bolts and bars, indeed we cannot, either to his absolute personal liberty in asylums or to his entire moral freedom without their walls, yet we may keep them largely out of sight. Let him be _manacled when he must and only when he must_, and then only with silken cords bound by affectionate hands, and not by chains. We may not open all the doors, indeed we cannot, but we can and do, thanks to the humanitarian spirit of the age in which we live, open many of them and so shut them, when it must need be done, that they close for _his_ welfare and ours only; that he may not feel that hope is gone or humanity barred out with the shutting of the door that separates him from the world. We may not always swing the door of the lunatic as facilely outward as inward--the nature of his malady will not always admit of this--but we should do it whenever we can, and never, when we must, should we close it harshly. And while we must needs narrow his liberty among ourselves, we should enlarge it in the community to which his affliction assigns him, to the fullest extent permissible by the nature of his malady. Liberty need not necessarily be denied him; and to the glory of our age it is not in the majority of American asylums for the insane, because the conditions under which he may safely enjoy liberty, to his own and the community's welfare, are changed by disease. The free sunlight and the fresh air belong as much to him in his changed mental estate as to you or me, and more, because his affliction needs their invigorating power, and the man who would chain, in this enlightened age, an insane man in a dungeon, because he is diseased and troublesome or dangerous, would be unworthy the name of human. Effective restraint may be employed without the use of either iron manacles or dismal light and air excluding dungeons.