The next day, the 20th of August, 1863, about 9 o'clock in the morning, I was called out of my room to dress and take a ride as far as the depot. I rose, dressed and went out. I perceived they seemed in a hurry; I got into the wagon with three men besides myself; these were George Harvey, J. Snyder and Rev. A. Farr. As I got into the wagon and saw my trunk, I enquired where they were going. Mr. Harvey told me I was going to the asylum in Utica. I have always thought until this day that those three men supposed that what I said and did when I was told where I was going, was a sudden outburst of insanity, but I knew as well what I said, and what I did, as they knew; yet I said some things which I ought not to have said. I knew that I was getting better fast; I knew that I had had a terrible time of it; I had felt much better for a few days past; my mind was not as much agitated as it had been. At a glance I took in the whole scene before me. I saw that I had been deceived; that I was torn from home without my consent; was to be shut up with raving maniacs, and probably to die with them. I saw how cold and unfeeling men could be when a little power was given them; I felt that the world and the church had turned against me. I rose in the wagon in despair and indignation; I said strong things; I knew who had been the chief instruments of my imprisonment. I begged to go anywhere else rather than to Utica; when this was denied me, and I was told by Mr. Snyder to sit down, I announced that I should consider myself no longer a member of the Methodist E. Church; that my connection was dissolved. This was an outburst, it is true, and a foolish one, but I knew what I said, and at the time I meant it. I felt that I was forsaken by God and man; I also confessed that I was a bad man, given over by the Almighty, and had no hope. This was the substance of the confession. This was also wrong; even if it had been true, no one could be benefited by such a confession. I knew what I said and I know too what reply was made by Mr. Farr. I know that these expressions of mine were marks showing that my mind had been racked. I could not control my mind as usual; yet my memory and reasoning powers were not broken; I ought not to have been sent to an insane asylum. My attendants soon found that there was no need of fetters or handcuffs to get me to Utica; so one after another fell off, leaving me but with one man, and he not much of a giant. When he told me that he had all the papers in his pocket for my commitment, I made up my mind to be a _law and order man_, and I have never heard that he had any trouble in getting his patient within the bolts and bars of that _humane institution_, as some are disposed to call it.[B]