IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

■^■18. |2.5
■^ 1^ III 2.2

Hf h^ III! 2.0

■tlUL.

1.25 i 1.4

1.6

/>«

O^^

Photographic

Sciences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

«^

4£s

CIHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHIVI/ICMH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

I 1 Covers damaged/

Couverture endommagde

Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaurde et/ou pelliculde

Cover title missing/

Le titre de couverture manque

Coloured maps/

Cartes g^ographiques en couleur

Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/

D
D

Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Reli6 avec d'auties documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

Lareliure serr^e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge int^rieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
il se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout^es
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 filmdes.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppl^mentaires;

L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dars la mdthode normale de filmage
sont indiqu6s ci-dessous.

I I Coloured pages/

Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagdes

Pages restored and/oi

Pages restaur^es et/ou pelliculdes

Pages discoloured, stained or foxei
Pages d6color6es, tachetdes ou piqudes

Pages detached/
Pages ddtachdes

Showthrough/
Transparence

Quality of prir

Quality in^gale de I'impression

Includes supplementary materii
Comprend du materiel supplementaire

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

I I Pages damaged/

I I Pages restored and/or laminated/

r~T1 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/

I I Pages detached/

rri Showthrough/

I I Quality of print varies/

I I Includes supplementary material/

I I Only edition available/

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiellement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure,
etc., ont 6t6 film^es d nouveau de fapon d
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/

Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous.

10X 14X 18X 22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X

]

32X

ails

tdifier

une

nage

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks
to the generosity of:

National Library of Canada

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grSce d la
g6n6rosit6 de-

Bibliothdque nationale du Canada

Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmd, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol ^^ (meaning "CON-
TINUED '), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprimde sont film6s en commengant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration. soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires
originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la
premidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par
la dernidre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la
dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole — ^> signifie "A SUIVRE", le
symbole y signifie "FIN".

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre
film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre
reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 A partir
de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la mdthode.

rata
>

elure.

1 2 3

.i Hfl^ :';.MttJi. \l-ii i.

,'A

DIARY

WRITTEN IN TIIR

Provincial Lunatic Asylum,

MARY ITUESTIS PENGILLY.

The prison doors are open — / am free ;
Be this my messenger o''er land and sea.

, , j ,

PUBLISHED BY IHE AUTHOR.

, 1885.

-<?#■..'

•l^-^Vislv ■;•;:

'-.U.:.^' -■ ■'^^-

!■ ■ ^ ,

i-r

«■/

■Mli*!

--1

if- ,

DIARY

'YRlTni;."! IN T'TK

Provincial Liiiialic teyiiiin,

M A H V ! [ J 7 K s r I H i» f*:: N O I M. Y

TTic. prinon doar.H are open ~~ I am free ,
Be tUlu my -memt^nger o-er land ami hpm

PUBUHUKl) BY r\m MJTiUm

1885

Ts>-?IIIS lit tic bonk ia liumljly dedicnUHl to the Prov-

Q^'ji ^'T^'*' ^>^ ^'<'^^' l>l■>ln^^vvi(•k, :in(l tho Stiito of Mas-
sfU'lmst'tts. hy one* wlio lius hnd so snd iin oxix'ricnce
in tliis, tlu> sixty-sci'oiul year of lier nj4"e. tliat sho fools
it to 1)0 lior iinporativo duty to lay it boforo tho public
in snoli a maiinor as shall roaoh tho hoarts of tho poo-
plo ill this hor nativo rroviuco, as also tho pooplo of
Massachusotts, with whom sho had a rofiigo sinco driv-
en from h( r own homo by tho St. John firo of 1<S77.
Sho sincoroly hopos it may bo road in ovory State of the
Union, as well as thi'oiighout tho Donjinion of Canada,
that it may holi) to show tho inner wj^rkings of their
Hospitals :ind Asylums, and prompt them to search out
bettor methods of conducting them, as well for the beu-
elit of the superintendent as the patient.

Di'XncMBKu. — Tlu\v will not ailovv mc to go home, and
I must writo t\\csv tli'miifH down for foiir I iomat. It
will lit'li) to ptiss the tune iiwuy. It is v(M-y luird to cn-
diirt! this prison iilc, nnd know tluit my sons think mo
insjine when I ;im not.

Mow unkind Mrs. Mills is tod.'i}' : docs she; think this
sort t)!' trc'jitment is for the good of our heulth? 1
begged for milk tod;iv, iind she ctin't span; me any \
she has not enou<»ii for ail th(» old women, she savs. [
don't vvisli to deprive any one of liiat whieh they re-
quire, but have I not a right to all I r(uinir(! to feed me
and nuike me well? All I do need is good nourishing
food, and 1 know better than any one else ean what I
require to build me up and make me as I was before 1
met with this strange ehange of eonditiotj. I remem-
ber telling the Doelor, oji his first visit to my room,
that 1 onlv needed bisenit and milk and beef tea to
make me well, lie rose to his feet and said. '' I know
better than any other nian." That was all I heard him
say, and he walked out, leaving me without a word of
sympathy, or a promise that I shoidd have anything. I
say to myself (as I always talk aloud to myself when
not well), '• You tlon't know any more than this old
woman does." I take tea with Mrs. Mills ; 1 don't like
to look at those patients who look so wretehed.

I ean't bear to see myself in the glass, I am so wast-
ed — so miseral)le. My poor boys, no wonder you look
so sad, to see yoiu* mother looking so badly, and be
compelled to leave her here alone among strangers who
know nothing about her past life. They don't seem to
have any resjject ibr me. If I weie the most misera-
ble woman in the eity of St. John, 1 would be entitled
to better treatment at the hands of those who arc paid
by the Provinee to make us as eomfortable as they can,
by keeping us warmed and Wni^ as poor feeble invalids
should be kept.

DKCKMiiKic 20. — r luivc tTiadc inyscir quite happy this
wook, tliiiikiiii; of what Christinas imiy briii*r to many
childish hearts, niid iiow I onoc tried to inak(; my own
dear Ika's liap[)y at Chi'istinas time. T helped poor
Mafij<>:y to make aitilieial flowers I'oi' a wreath she her-
self iiad made of cedar. She was making it for some
friend in tlu* Asylum. Sh(> lU'ver goes out ; she wishes
to go sometimes, hut jMrs.IMills seolds hei" a Httle, then
she works on and says no more aljont it. Poor Maggy!
ther(5 is notliing ailing her hut a, littler too much temper.
She does all the dining-roon> work — washes dishes and
many other things.

Janijakv. — Tiiey have had a festival ; it was made,
I suppose, to benelit some one here ; I don't know whom.
It certainly did not l)enefit me any ; no one invit;ed me
to go to the church where the festival was held, but Dr.
Crookshank, the Assistant J^hvsician, looked at me
very kindly and said, '^ Do come, Mrs. Fengilly, you
may as well come." I looked at my dress (it is grey
flannel, and I have had no other to change since I came
here), " I can't go looking like this ; I nuist be a little
better dressed to go into a public meeting of any kind ;
I am not accustomed to go looking like this, with noth-
ing on my neck." He said, "■ Very well, something
shall come to you ;" and Mrs. Hays, who is Assistant
Nurse in om* Ward, brought me a plate of food and
fruit, such as is generally had at festivals.

1 have not had my trunk yet ; sure the bo^'s did not
leave me here without my trunk. Perhaps they do not
wish me to go in sight of people from the cit3% for fear
they will recognize me, and I should make my com-
plaints known to them. I have entreated them to give
nie my trunk so many times in vain that I have given
it up. I did ask Mrs. Mills, and she says, "Ask Mrs.
Murphy, she has charge of the trunk room." I asked
her ; she says she will see, and she will bring me what-
ever I need that is in it. She puts me olT with a soft
answer, until I begin to think there is nothing done for

any one hore, only what tlic.y ('.'uniot avoid. It is a
8nir-rumiin<i; t'st;i!)!isluii(!nt, I ii;iu's,s. l\>v no on(^ sciuns
to know liow or wlu'n to do {inylhin<r I uisli to have
dono, whatever they may do Cor oth<!rs.

FiciuiUAitY, — The weallier is cold. I have more to
occMH)y niy i'um\ now. I have le.nrned liow to let oil' the
cold air from the radiators, and then we ^jet mori' heat.
I do it when no one sees me, I shall do all I can to
make myself eomtortahle, and they all share it. When
1 arise ni the morning, my lirst thonghl is to look np
the hal' to see if there is lire in the <rrate — the one lit-
tle <z;rate in that large hall, t(^ give warmth and comi'ort
to us [)oor prisoners. If the lire is there, I feel
pleased ; 1 go u[) as soon ;is the sweeping is done, and
try to feel at homo, I tell I he nuise 1 will tend the
tire, if she will have the coal left hesidi? the grate.
Sometimes they ullow it willingly, jind 1 eiijov it. I
brush np the: hearth, and make it look cheerful and
homelike as |)ossil)le. I draw up the huge, uncomfort-
able seats to form a circle ; they stand round until I
get theie ; they are luip[)y to sit with me, i)ut they
don't know enongh to draw up a seat for themselves.
I have found ph'asnre in this; it cheers my heart.
There is no situation in life, however un[)leasiint it
may be, but has some; bright i)laces in it. I love to
cheat Mrs, Mills ; 1 watch my chance when she is not
near, and let olf the cold air in the radiator until the
warm air comes, and then close it. I add coal to the fire,
saying to myself, "• This ca.stle belongs to the Province,
and so tlo 1. We have a rigiit to all the comforts of
life here, and especially so when live dollars a week is
paid for our board ; let us have a nice fiie and bask in
its comfortiuij ravs." f love the heat ; ifthe seats at
the grate get filled up, I come back to the radiator.
Perhaps it is warm enough to afford to have the win-
dow open a few moments, to let the imi)ure air escape
— just a little of it ; then I sit close by it, calling it my
kitchen fire-place. 1 am regulating the comfort of this
ward in a measure, but they don't know it.

■■I

Fk.hkt;auy. — M\ ilcjir Lcwi.^ has Ixhmi to hoo mo to-
dn.y VVt' clijii tn«i;(M|icr ;ih usmmI ; liow ciin lio think
mo cm / V ? Dr. Stccvt's trils him I muk I suppose, jind
«o ht^ thinks it imi-^t oc so. Me i> so h:ipj)v t*» see nic
loiikin;^; Ixltvf ; hi- is niort' loving tluui rvc?- ; he holds
my tiaiKJ in his iind tells inc In; nill ttikc me out lor :i
drive when Ih*' vvcMt h«r is liiu'. And I s;dd, "Oh L(>\vls,
my dctii' hov, I am well eiion^h to 1:0 hojnc with yon to
your holt! now." 1 so loni; for sonu* of Mrs. Hnrns'
^ood dtiniiM-.s ; hci' nirnls ni'c .'ill \\U'\\ and hen^ we Iinvo
HiKih hoi I'id stn!l'. Dai'k-coloi'ed, sonr hakers' l)reiid,
with uiisciahU' hntter, eonstitiitcs onr' hroakfast und
tt.'a ; tin'ri' is oatincal porridii;** jind eiieap inol-isses at
break fast, I Mity 1 eonid not eat that, it would he salts
and Keinia I'oi- me At noon we have plenty of meat
and veiTctahles, indill'crenMy cooked, but we don't re-
quire food suitable Ibi- men vvoi kin<;" out ol" doors. We
nei'd somelhinji,' t,o tempi the appetite a little.

No niattci' wli.'it 1 sav. how earnest I v 1 ph'ad, he bo-
lieves l)i'. Stervrs in prdereiieo t.o me. If I siionld die
hero, he will still believe Di". Stecvcs, wiio looks so
well they cannot think he would <io so j^reat .a wrong.
When 1 first bejjian to j-ealize that, I must stay here all
■winter, I I •e.t»«i,('d the Doctor to ttdve me to his table, or
<thanii:e his baker; ^* I cannot live on such fare as you
give ns here." His re|)ly was, "• I don't keoj) w board-
ing house." Who does keep this boarding house? Is
there any justice on earth or inider heaven? Will this
thing always be allowed to go on? Sometimes I almost
sink in despair. One consolation is left me — some day
dejith will unlock thos(^ prison doors, and m^' freed
spirit will go forth rejoicing in its liberty.

'Inhere is a dear «];irl here whose presence has hebped
to pass the time more pleasantly, and yet I am more
anxious on her accotnit How can her mother leave
her so long in such care as this? Ah, they cannot know
how she is faring; she often says, '•"l used to have nice
cake at home, and could make it, too." She has been
teaching school, has over- worked, had a (ever, lost her

I I

reason, and oiimo licio last »lmu'. Slip is well onongli
to go lK>n)o. I fV'nr if they Icmvp Iut lu'r(» iniicli I'ligor
who will iK^vcr locovt r hci* spiiits. Slu^ is .•irnii<l of
Mrs. Mil's, uiui (hue not ;isl< loi' jmv favor. Mrs. Mills
is vt'xod if sin- limls Ini- in iii\ r(»oin. jiixl (lo(>s not liko
to SCO lis tMlUiiiii;. I siipposi' slu' fc'irs wc will coinparo
not( s to \\v\' (lisa<l\antM^(', or tK'triiiUMilal to the rules
of tho lioiist'. 1 think it is airaiiist the rules of this
house that we should he iiuliiliicd in nwy of the eom-
lorts ol life.

Mai{(M1 — At last I have mv trunk : why itshonld have
V»een detained so long I cannot eonfiMve. I feel rieh in
the possession of tlu^ little needful articles it contains.

I Gnqnii'e<l of Dr. Steeves, soim' time ago, if he had
not in the Asylum a supjily of necessai-y articles for our
use, telling him I wtuited a ' ; per <A' pi;is very nuich.
He said thev wei-e fo> th'- indiii'cnt |)atients. so J uot
r* lie. ]\Iv son, Tom. gave nie so,«,e small silvt'i* some
■weeks ago, hut F was no better olf. No one would do
me an errand outside. I hegged Mjs. Mills at dilferent
limes to buy me some pins, and to \n\\ me .m extra
({uart of milk. I was so hungry for milk, hut sIk^ said it
w^as against the ruU's of lh(> house. She gives me now
a glass nearly full at bed lime, with one soda biscuit.
'J'his is the only luxui'V we have Ium'i' ; some others get
the sann'. lti>bt'(ause I havi; tried to make her think
we are her children, left in her care I said to her,
*' * Feed mv lambs,' you are our Sheidierd ;" and she is
if she only knew it. I have rjuoted the words of Ilim
wliose e\am))l(^ we should all follow : " Do good unto
others." I am watching ovei' thosi' poor lambs now, to
see how tlu^v are tended, and I will ti'll the Commis-
sionei's in whose care the Asylum is lelt by the Prov-
ince. The people of New Brunswick suppose they
attend to it. The Commissioners have placed it in the
care of Dr. Steeves, and they believe him quite capa-
ble ol conducting it properly. Is this the way it should
be (lone? \ don't think so.

I ohscirvtjd Mi<s Fowlc^r toduy huldiii^j; lier liand to
hcrevo, which is h)()I\iii<jj inlhiincd ; slic is hMiid ; ;i vvell-
ediiCMt<'d, dclicato, g(Mjll(.;-vv()in:ui. 1 taki*- more tlian
nsnal interest in her (or that reason. I often sit beside
her and slie t( Hs nw, of her mother, and wants n:e to <i;o
home with !ier to nnmlxT on(>. .>h(^ does not seem a lu-
natic, and sh(; is ne,i:;lect*'d. I tied hfr eye np with my
own hjindkerehii^r, a?id a wet raiz; on it. I did not mean
to oUenii, I liad <Ione so hi'Jbn^and it was not oi)serv'od.
Mrs. Mills (tame alon«»; just as I hail done it; she jerked
it off in anjjfin", and threw it on the floor. I said to her,
''That is not a ( hvistinn aet," Imt she pays no heed ;
perhaps her morninsi; woi k makes her feel cross.

I come hack to my own nnnn and write again ; what
shall I do? I cannoi — how (;an I stay here any longer !
and 1 cjumot grt away, locked in as prisoners in our
ro(>ms at night, i'^'d likit paupers. If 1 w»»re committed
to th(^ pcMiitentiaiy I'oi' a (tiime, I would not he us(>d
any worse th;m I am liere. i\ly heart longs ior syiuj^a-
thy, an(i hits it liot. I htive tried to soften Mrs. Mills'
heart, and win !ier sympathy, hut I cannot, and 1 can-
not withiiold my pity for tho.>e [)oor invalids who faro
even worse than I .

Makcii lo. — I must wnte tliis wiiile fresh in my miu'l,
for fe;ir I may forgot. Thei'e is :i, Miss .short hei'e — a
lair-haired, nice-looking oirl ; she slands up and reads
in the TeslMinrnt as if she were in Sunday-school, re-
cites poetry, and tiies to phvy on the pi;ino. I <lid not
think her nuich out ol ordei* when she came, hut she is
now. She has grown >t(adily woi-se. Wl'V fathei' ca,me
to see her, and she cried to go hotue with him. I wished
vci'v much to tell liim to take her home, '>ut Mrs. Mills
did not leave them, and I dared not spca-k j,o him. >he
has grown so nmch vvoi-se, she tears her divss oil", so
they have to i)ul leatlxa- hand-culfs on her wrists so
tight they makt; her hands swell. I say, '' Oh, Mrs.
Mills, don't you st-e they are too tight, her hands look
ready to burst — purple with blood." She })aid no heed :

** It does not hurt her an}'." Yesterday she tied a can-
vas belt round her waist so tight that it nuide my heart
acho to looli at it. I am sure it would have stopped
mv breath in a short lime ; they tied her to the haek ot
the se.'it with the ends of it.

INI ARCH 17. — Another jjoor victim has come to our
ward today — a black-eyed, delicjitc-looking ^irl. She
looked .so sad, I was drnwn to Ijeratonce. I sat beside
her in Mrs. Mills' tibsencc. and cn((uii'cd tiie eause of
her troiiitle; she said her food i>av(' Iut pain — she is
dyspc[)t:ic. If the Doctor would (|uestion the p.aUc^nts
and their IViiiids as to the cause of their insanity, they
might, as in other cases oC illness, know what remedy
to apply. Ihis (U^ar child has been living at Dr. VVm.
Bayards' three yeais — chambermaid — that is enough to
assure me she is a good girl. 1 think she wears her
dress too tight. I unloosened her laces and underskirts
to make them easy; they are all neat and tidy, as if
she had come from a good home.

Another day is liere. That poor giil is in great
trouble yet. When I went out into the hall this morn-
ing, she was kneeling by the door ; she laid her cheek
on the bare floor, praying ibr her sins to be forgiven,
murmuring something of those who had gone before.
1 cannot think she has sinned ; poor child ! she has lost
her health in some way ; she has transgressed some law
of nature. I think it has been tight lacing that caused
some of the trouble, for she sat up on the floor when I
invited her to stand up for fear some one would open
the door and walk over her, and rubbed the calf of her
leg, saying it was all numb. Anything too tight causes
pain and distress by interrupting the free circula-
tion of the blood. She is so i)itiful and sad! How
could Mrs. Mills speak so unkindly to her, pushing her
with her foot to make her rise up i* She treats them
like wicked school- boys who have done something to
torment her and merit punishment. I cannot but pitj
Mrs. Mills, for this is an uncomfortable position to fill,

mmm

imiaBRinvpi

IT.

and if she Ikis always obeyed her Siiperuitendent, »he
has done her duty, and desei'ves a retired allowance.
The yonn<:er nurses are all learning' from her, i'nd will
grow hai'd-hearted. for the}' think sin; is one to teach
them ; tiiey come to her for helj) in case of emergency,
and they go all together, and are able to con{[uer by
main strength what might in most cases be done by a
gentle word. '-A soft answer turneth away wrath;"
I have known this all my life, but I never felt it so for-
cibly' as now.

There is a lady here from Westmoreland ; her hair is
cut short, and her eyes are black and wild. The first
time I spoke to her she struck me, lightly, and 1 walked
away ; I knew she was crazj'. After 1 had met her a
few times and found she was not dangerous, I ventured
to sit down beside her. She was lying on her couch in
a room off the dining-room ; she lav on her back knit-
ting, talking in a rambling way : '4)o you know what
kind of a place this is? Aren't you afraid Til kill you?
I wish 1 was l-.ke yon." I smoothed her hair with my
hand as I would a child. 1 thought, perhaps, she had
done some great wrong. She said she had killed her
mother. Often before, I had stood beside her, for I
looked at her a number of times before I ventured to
sit by her. I had no recollection of seeing her when I
first came, till I I'ound her in this room. 1 suppose she
was so violent iliay shut her in here to keep Uer from
striking or injuring any one. I could not discover the
cause of her trouble, but 1 comforted her all 1 could,
and she has always been friendly with me since, and
listened to my words as if I were her mother. She ha.^
been here a long time. Last Friday — bathing day —
two 3"oung, strong luirses were trying to take hei' from
her room to the batli-room (1 sui)pose she was unwill-
hig to l)e washed, for I have noticed when I saw her in
that room on the couch, she was not clean as she should
be — her elothes did not have a good air about them).
The nurses were using force, and she struggled against
it. They used the means they often use ; 1 suppose

> 1

that is tlioir surcHt method of corKjucring the otjHtsMJ.tc
spirit tluit will rist? uj) to dofnul itsell' in any child or
woman. Slu^ was made more violent by Ium* li;iir beinji;
pnlled ; one nmsf had liei" hands, and the other <*an'j;bt
her by hei' hair, wiiicii is just. h)nii: (inonirh to hold by.
They nuide her ualiv. 1 was walkidij; \wav them when
I saw one seize her by the hair; she tried to bite h''r
on the aim. 1 staited lorwaid. -iiid laid my hand on
her ai'm. w'th— -••I)(m't. my poor child, don't <h) so; be'
gentle with her, uiils. and she v\iil ii(». ' Siie hxjked at
Hie, and her Caei' sol'lmed ; that anurry spirit melted
within lu'r. and ihev went on lo the bath-room. Shortly
alter that 1 met her lookinti' fresh anci nice ; sin- wa.s in
Mrs. jM ills' room, in hei' lockiin^-chair. ^ometimcH I
look in there to see it that cluiir is empty, to have a
rock in it myself. J think it better for her hetdth to
knit in the i'ockmfj;-ch[iir than tn lay down and knil or
read either, so 1 leave Jiei- tluMc. lVihtt|is she has read
too nincii and injunMJ her Vnain : if so. I wonld not let
her read so nuich.

Maiu'II 21) — Poor Mrs. Mills has served thirty-lwo
years heri'. and has become hai'dened as one willtoanv
sitnation or snrronndinL!;s. She i.s too old a woman,
jind her temp«a' has Ix-cn too nuich tried. She is tidy,
and w'cn'ks well for so old a woman, bnt she is not lit
lor a nnrse. \i' she were a Ihitish soldier, ajid had
served her coinitry »» ton^, .^he would be i-ntitled to a
pension.

poor Miss Shoit I Last week I saw her i\in,i^ on
the tloor nearly under the IhmI. lier dress toiri, lior hair
disheyeled. How can her friejids leave her .so lonir 1
♦ Some ladies canjc to see her !i .>h<»rt tiin(.' a<^o, and as
they left the hall I heard her call the?n to tfike her with
them. If they knew all as 1 do. they would not leave
her here anothi'r day.

Ther(! is a .Miss Snow hert; from St. StephiMis. I re-
niend)er distinctly when 1 first came, she raved all tht
time, 1 did not dare to look iu her iHHl-rooui

mmmmmmmmm

I must write something of myself today. I can look
hack and see phiinly all my joiirne}" here. The day
may come when I shall be laid away in the grave, and
my boys — the dear boys I have loved so well — will look
over my trunk and find this manuscri[)t ; they will then
perhaps believe I am not crazy. 1 know Dr. Steeves
tells them 1 am a Innatic yet. They will weep over
this, as they think of the mother thi'v have left here to
die am()n<»: strangers. It wonld be hnp[)iness to die
snrrounded by my friends, to be able lo tell them they
have only to live well that they may die well. To be
trne to onrselves and to our fellows, is all the gooil we
need. That I have always striven to do, does now my
spirit i'dQd.

I have been so near the grave, the border land of
heaven. I heard angels' voices ; they talked vvitii me
even as they did with John on the Isle of Patino^, when
they said to him, *' Worshij) God wlio sent me."

I was very much alnne, engaged in writing a book
on the laws of henltli. .Aly desire to write increascul ;
I became so abs(>i'l)ed with Iny work 1 forgot to eat,
and, after a day or two, 1 seemed lo think I had done
some wrong. 'I'tie angel voices whispei'ed nie that I
nuist fa><t and pray ; I kiu^w 1 had |)lentv of food in
mv clcjset. but I don't remember eatini:; anv more. I
fasted eight days, and felt comfortable and ha[)py most
of the time. I sang to myself. '-O tleath. wliere is thy
stin'j;, where is thv victory, boasting grave." 1 wept
for my own sins, and wisiied to die, the world to save.
1 was trying to perlbrm some ancient right or vow, one
day, and my sons came in. I ordereil them away, but
they would not go. They said they would bring me
home, for Lewis, vvho was living with me near Boston, •
sent for my son, T. M. Pengilly, who is [)ropriet()r of a
drug store in St. John. 1 suppose he discovered I was
fasting, and saw me failing so fast he telegraphed to
Tom to come to his assistance. I renieml)er 1 kissed
him when he came, asked him what he came for, and
bade him leave uie. I know now how unreasonable

that was, for we had no other looin but, Lewis' bed-
room, and in it there was iio lire. We had r-'pted
rooms, as Li-wis took his lue^K^ at a boardiii<j,-[s(UiHe
near. J^)oi- ]k)Vs. tjjev went in and ont ; it seeiti(-d to
me they did not eat or sleei) lor some days ; I ihoimlit.
they wei'e as erazy as 1 was in (lie ears.

'I'hey bronpht Di", ilnnter to s( c me I Imd been nc-
quairitfd with him some time |)ri\ ions. I told liim I was
sorry they h;id brou<iiit him to s^•e me. !"oi I ne (Id m>
pliysjei.iiis, 1 only needed to last and [nay. " 1 \:\\*^w
yon are a •i.ood man, Dr. Hnntt'r. but yon m'( il n(.t
come to see me a^ain ; I will be ail riiiht in tint"; iiod
and Mis anuels wiil keep me alwnys." These w(ve my
words t() liim ; I know not what prompted im- ; I snp-
pose it was my insanity. I tliink I tv)hl tlu-m to mul
lip tile d(;ois and lea\'e jsio tiiert; till summer. Tinit was
the last week ofOeiolx'r. My poor boys, how tried and
worried they nnist have been. Tln'V watehe<l me tii^^lit
and (lav alternately. I told them I had not. talked with
them enonii;h of my own reliiiion. 1 bended Tom to r"ad
the Jiible and kneel and pray, bnt he woidd not ; I tliink
lie fell asleep in my roekin<i:-ehair (how often I have
wdshed for tliat rocking-chair since I came hm'f) .

On Sunday niornin<»' I heard them say. '•'\\'( wiil go
home in the lirst train." Lewis wiit ont to see about
it, and I told Tom 1 wished to t;ike the sacrann^nt, and
be shouhl give it to nie, for he would yet be bisliop of
St. John — "St. Thoma.s" he should be eaUed. \ can
but lauii:h when I think of it now. Init it was very real
to me then. I had been a member — a <'onmHinicant —
of St. James' Church, K[)isco[)al, some y(Mirs ; ] had
taken mv boys to Sunday School, to re(;eive that re-
ligious instruction which I was not (pialilled U) give.
They had accompanied me to church, always, but I felt
as if 1 had not spoken to them on relij^ious subjects as
1 ought to have done.

It is fourteen years, I think, since; i wfis eliristened in
St. James' Church, by Rev William Armstrong, whose
voicte I alwavs loved to hear in the beautiful service of

our church. I was confirmed by IJishop John Frcdric-
ton, in Trinity Church. I well reiucniber the pressure
of that reverend hiind u[)on my head, and the impres-
sive words of his juldress to us who weiv that day re-
ceived into the churcli — ''Let yoiu* inner life he as good
or better than your outer life, if you would be worthily
known as His children." lie desired the young* men in
particular to take up some useful study, to occupy their
leisure hours — something outsi<li* of tlicir every-day
business of li!e. AVliat better words could have beer*
said ; I would that the young men of the present day
should oiten hear those words and accept them as a
rule of their life. 1 float awav from thouLdits ol' my in-
sanity to the days whcai 1 was at home going to churcii
with my children. I nuist return to my su])ject.

They brought the table to my l)edside ; I ki^pt my
eyes closed ; I received the bread from the hand of one
son, and th(i wine from th(^ hand ol' the other. J tasted
it. and my fast was broken. I discovered, to my great
surprise, it was only toast and tea. They hadim})roved
upon my wish, and thought to feed me, their p M.>r wast-
ed mother. TlKn dressed me for the lourney ; I would
not assist them any : tlu'v had not obeyed my wish to
be left alone in my room all winter ; so, when I yielded
to them, 1 left all for them to do; the only thing I did
myself was to take from tiie closet this grey flannel
dress — 1 had niJide it for traveling, before .1 left Lowell
for Old Orchard. They did not seem to know what
they w^ere doing. I had two bonnets, but they never
mentioned them, as I remember. They left my night-
cap on, and tied a silk handkerchief over it. They car-
ried me down stairs in their arms, and lifted me in the
coach. After we were on our way in the cars. I found
my hair was hanging down my b;ick ; I had nothing to
fasten it up with, and 1 arranged the handkerchief to
cover it. 1 liegan to feel hapi)v with the thought of
going home. 1 tiied to cheer them, and they could not
help smiling at me. 1 wondered they were not ashamed
of me. I looked so badly. I told th« m not to call me

inoth(3r, to siiy I was old Mrs. Siuuett ; that thoy were
bringing mo home to my friends.

Poor boys, I wonder if tliev renjombcr that iournev
in the cars as I do. At my request. Tom bronght me
a gobkt ol' milk, at two stopping plaees, and when 1
found they liad brought me to an Asyhnn 1 felt no fear ;
I thought 1 liad only to ask and reeeive what I needed.
1 knew they tlioujiht me eiazv, so I would not bid
them <iood-bve. wiien they left me, but eoncluded to
play lunatic. I refused to kiss Lewis when he left me,
that dear boy who iiad watcluid ovei' me so faithfully,
carrying nw in his arms from one car to the other.
When we changed cars, he placed me in a rulbnan car,
and I thought 1 was safely hidden I'rom something, I
knew not A^llat. \ only know I was so happy while I
was with my sons ; nothiuir troubled me. J sanii; and
chatted to Lewis; ln> would not leave me a moment ;
he knet-led l)eside my berth, and I called him my best
of sons, and smoothed his hair with my hand. All my
journey through J heaid the voice of angels whispering
to me, ''Hold on by the hand of your sons : keep them
with vou and vou will Ite safe : they are >our sons, they
are the sons of God," — and they art-. All who do
their duty as tlicy were doing, to the beat of their
ability, ai-e the chikbi'u of (iod : foi-. if we do the best
we can, angels cnn do no more.

I thought J was perfectly safe here, and if the Doc-
tor had given me tlie food vvhich should be given to an
inyaiid, or if he had giiinti-d any lequests 1 made to
him in a reasonable mannei'. I should not have been
prompted to write these lines or recall those memories
of the past.

One thought brings another. When, on the morning
after my nrrival. 1 begged for milk and biscuit, they re-
fused, and then brought a bowl of common looking soup
vviih black looking bak'rs' brcail. I refused to eat it ;
if it had been l)eef tea with soda biscuit in it, I would
have taken it myself. They did not live to coax crazy
people. J\Ls. Mills called in her help, and it did not

rrf

need manv, 1 was so weak ; they held me back, and she
stuffed the soiip down my throat.

When I came heie first, I told the nurse my name wa»
Mar}' Huestis ; that was my maiden name ; 1 hardly
know why 1 [)refer that to my sons' name, for they are
Bons no mother nee d be ashamed of. M3' prayers for
them have always been, that they might l)e a benefit to
their fellows ; that they grow to be good men ; to be
able to fill their places in the world as useful members
of societ}', not living entirely for themselves, but for
the good of others, an honor to themselves and a
blessing to the world. If we live well, we will not be
afraid to die. '' Perfect love casteth out fear." I must
write no more today.

March 24. — Two years ago today I was watching by
the bedside of my dying child. Driven from our home
by the fire, I was tarrying for her to complete her edu-
cation in the city of Lowell, which is second to no city
in the world for its educational privileges. Free schools,
with books free to all its children, and excellent teach-
ers. To Lowell schools and to my darling child, I must
here pay this tribute. The day after her death, the
principal of the school she attended addressed the
school with these words — "Clara Pengilly has attended
this school two jears, and 1 have never heard a fault
found with her ; there has never been a complaint
brought to me by teacher or schoolmates concerning
ber." Her teacher brought me two large bouquets to or-
nament the room at her funeral, sent by the pupils and
teachers of the school where she had been a happy at-
tendant, for she loved Uer teachers, and always told me
how good and kind they were to her ; no wonder every
one loved her, for she had a loving heart and a nature
so full of sunshine she c >uld not be unhapp3\ We had
boarded eight months with a lady whose onl^y daughter
was blind from her birth. Clara loved to lead her out
for a walk, and read to her at home ; no pleasure was
complete unless shared with her blind friend, who was

younger than herself, and whose life she eould brighten
by her williny;nesa to devote her iinoociipied time to her
service. Hear Lorelle, we all loved her for her good-
ness, and pitied her for her iufirmity. The boarders
and others at her home sent flowers too. Her mother
arranged a green vine and flowers around her face and
in her hand. When she had linished, she said, ''That
is the last we can do for you, Clara ; I know she was so
fond of flowers, she would be pleased if she could see
them." I cared not for tlie flowers, I only knew that
loving heart was stilled in death, and I was left alone ;
with an effort, I said, "Lorelle will never know a truer
friend than she who lies here." My tears unbidden
flow ; why do 1 go back in memory to those sorrowful
days? 1 know she is happy now. Let me draw the
veil of charity over the past with all its troubles, re-
membering only the man}' acts of kindness done for us
by our friends at that time.

It is this waiting so long a prisoner, begging to be
liberated. My hands will not remain folded or my brain
idle. 1 must write again of poor Miss Snow. I ven-
tured into her room, feeling anxious to help her by coax-
ing her into a better frame of mind. She is wasted to
a shadow ; I am sure if she had any food to tempt her
to eat she would grow stronger ; some nice bread and
milk at bed time would help her to sleep. 1 soothed
her as I wouhl a child in trouble, until she ceased her
raving, and then questioned her to discover the cause
of her disease. She is a well-educated, intelligent lady.
In her ravings she often says she is the only lady in the
hall, and seems to have a temper of her own, which has
been made more than violent by hei; stay in this ward.
She is very fond of drawing small pencil sketches, and
works at them late at night, which I think is certainly
injurious. I conclude she is the victim of late hours
and fancy work ; she acknowledges she used to sew un-
til after twelve, working for bazaars. If the ladies
would only come here and stud}' the needs of these
poor victims of insanity, and make better arrangements

IF-T

for tlivMr woltHrc, llit\v would liiid ;i hii^hor (\*\liin»T than
exliriiistiii^' tli,>ir(MUM'i»icis workinjjj (or !)mzu:u's, and h^av-
iiiS2: u^ to tlii^ (larc of tliosc who i-iUi" nothing Ibi' us and
will iit)t l(»ani. Too niti'jli tiMiijX'r ami too mr.ch indo-
loii('(^ rule luTc. 1 <z;o in soinetiini's and cosix Iilm* to stop
talkin<rand liiMJovvn. I cover Ium* n[) to keep lior warm ;
sh«? is hhic with the cold. If I could keep her in a nice
warm room, with kind treatment, and nonrishiniz; food!
She could not eat that horrihh!. sour bakers' bread with
poor butt(M'. Sonuitimes hei* food would set in Ikm" room
a lonjjj time. I <>U(^ss she only eats when she is so
starved she can't help it. I eat because I am deter-
nn!ied to live until I lind some oni^ who will hel[) me out
of this castU^ on the hill, that f may ti^ll the Commis-
sioners all about it. Sometimes I t('i'm il a colle<>:r, in
whi' li 1 am linisiiiuir my education, and I shall <j;raduate
Hom*' day — when will it, be? iMy impatient spirit (^hafes
at this ionu; delay. I sit at tlie gi'atfd window and think,
if I wi're one of iliose little pig'fons on the window sill
1 would !);■ hap[)y ; (!ontent to be a.uythiui^ if only at
liberiy.

AriML. — Tiie fi'iends of iNFiss Short Inu'e b(>en hero
and taken her home, and word returned that she is bet-
ter. I am thankful to think she is with her mother,
and I do not see her so improperly treated ; it made
me feel wretched to think of her.

Poor Katy Dngan's friends came one day. I watched
my chance [ind told one of them to let lier mother know
she was getting worse and was not well treated. I had
many heart-aches for that girl ; I scarcely know why.
They must have seen she looked worse ; her dress of
flannel, trimmed with satin of the same color, which
looked so nice when she came, was filthy with spots of
gruel and milk they had been forcing her to eat. This
day, I remember, was worse than common days of
trouble. I had been excited by seeing one of the most
inoffensive inmates pushed and spoken to very roughly,
without having done any wrong. They attempted to

t '

I
I.

l:>

corah thnt poor girl's hair ; sho will not snhmit, ho<;s
and cries to ixo down Ihtirc I i;o to tlu> l)ath-rooin door
to hi'g th<'ni to he <j,('ntK' with lu-r. Mrs Mills shniiiiicd
the door in my Imcc. Sho is vi-xcmI at mmv t'\[)i"«'ssi()ii
of syinpatiiy. Agiiiii I iu-ar that pitirnl cry, and I go
up the hall to SCO what the trouhlc is. They luid taken
her in a room to hold her on the lloor, hv tliose heavy,
strong nurses sitting on her arms and I'eet, while the}'
force her to oat. I I'eturn, for I can't endure the sight.
I met Mi's. Mills, with a large spoon, going to stuff her
us she did me. (I was not dys|)vpti!' ; I h;id fasted
and Would have eaten if thev had given me milU. as I
re(pieste(|. ) She was angry at me again ; she oidt-red
me to my room, and threatened t.o lock me m. What
have I done to merit such treatmiMit? How can 1 en-
dure this any longer !

AiMiiL o. — Yester'lay was election (hiy <~)f the Alder-
men of the city of Si. Jolm. i)r. Steeves came in this
morning and congi'atulaicd ine very pleasantly that my
son was elected AKhTinan. I thanked him and said £
was not jit all sMrj)i'ised, for he was very [)opnlar in his
ward; always Ivind and courteous to every one. he had
made m my friends, ih* nuist know I am perfectly sane,
but I can't [)ersuadi* him to tell my son 1 Jim well enough
to go home.

Mv (h'ar Lewis has gone eight hundred miles beyond
VVinni[)eg surveying. I am sorry to have him go so far.
Will I ever see him again? But I feel so badly when
he coiui's to see nie, and refuses to take me homo with
hira ; and I say to myself, '• I would die here alone
rather than that he, my darling boy, should bo shut in
hero and treated as J am ;" for his temper, if so op-
posed, would make him a maniac. I have dreamed of
seeing him looking wretched and crying for fresh air,
for he was sutfocating. All the time I had those troub-
led di earns, 1 was smothering wdth gas coming in my
room through the small grating intended to admit heat
to make us comfortable, but it did not. I was obliged

v.; 1

to open the window to bo ablo to broatho ; my lungs re-
quired oxygon to broatlie whon I was lying in bed, not
gas from hard coal.

There is one lady whose room is carpeted and fur-
nished well, but siie is so cold she sits flat on the car-
pet beside the little grate, trying to be warm. She has
not enough clothing on to keep her warm. Her friends
call often, but they never sta}- long enough to know
that her room is cold. The^* cannot know how uncom-
fortable she is, or what miserable food she has, for we
all fare alike.

April is nearly gone. Tom has promised to come
for me on Monday ; 1 feel so happy to think I am going
to \hi free once more. I sat on my favorite scat in the
window sill, looking at those poor men working on the
grounds. There were three ; they did not look like lu-
natics, no overseer near them ; t'.iey were shoveling or
spading, and three ducks followed them. Fed by the
All-Father's hand, they gather food for themselves;
the men never disturb them ; the}' cannot be violent.
Many a farmer would be willing to give one of those
men a permanent home for his services. The knowl-
edge that this home is here for them to return to, would
ensure them kind treatment at t!ie iiand of the farmer,
and 1 am sure they would prefer life on a farm, with
good palatal)le food and liberty, to being shut up here
as prisoners and fed as [)aui)ers, as we in the ladies'
ward are. without one word or look of sympathy or re-
spect extended to us.

One day this week, I had been watching one of the
men working at the strawberry beds, thinking I would
like to live on a farm now, that I might cultivate those
lovely berries. Tlie Doctor came in to make his usual
morning: call, in the hall, with a book and pencil in his
hand ; that is all he ever does for us. I thought I would
make him think I thought him a gentleman, which he
is not, and perhaps he would be more williny; to let me
go home. It has taken effect. I suppose he thinks I
have forgotten all the doings of the past winter, and

that I will not (hire to say anything ai^ainst such a
mighty niaii as lie is. I un\ <^\in\ I iiavo taken it dowu'
in bhu'k and white, ho as not to ror<jjot the wron«^s of the
Province, and tlie wrongs of those poor nej^lected wom-
en, of whom I am one. I ou;i,ht not t<j write; in this-
manner, l»nt my indiji'iiation oyerconu^s me fiometimes»
and I cannot help it. lie is a little more social now
than usual, and I sn<r<irest that if he hiiiii; hlackberrv
bushes from tin* Held, and st!t tlu-m around the fence,
keepin<»" tlu^ t^romid irri;j:ated round tlu^ roots, he mi<j;ht
have as nicf fruit as the cultivated. He said yes, ho
would send some of his men out to liis farm and get
some, and he left as pleasant as he cami^ Tluit was
the Hrst time he ever left me without being driven away
by my making some request, and lieing refused.

This reminds me of the (hiv 1 begged so liard for a
pot of Holloway's Ointment. I had asked my boys sev-
eral times to bring it to me, and 1 thought they always
forgot it. I had used it many years, not constantly,
onl}' for a little; rash on my i'lWQ at times ; it has an-
noyed me very nmeh lately. This day J had uiged him
all I could, and he left me, saying he had too nuich on
his mind today. 1 followed him to the door, saying,
'*I don't want to think so ill of you, Doctor, as that
you will not grant me so small a favor — a twenty-live
cent favor — and I will pay for it myself."

Saturday Moknino. — I am so impatient! I hardly
dare to hope. Will I be free to breathe the air of
heaven again, to walk out in the warmth of His sun-
shine? Perhaps I am punished for questioning the ex-
act truth of that story, so long ago, that I could not
quite explain to myself or believe liow it could be hand-
ed down over so many years. 1 have stood almost
where He has stood, once before in my life. **The
foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests,
but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head." I
have been ''led by ihe spirit into the wilderness."
Pontius Pilate is not here to say, ''I find no sin in thia

ir^

man," but there are tliose here who would lock me iii^'
and never let me set my foot outside of these walls, if
they knew I was writing this with the hope of laying it
before the Pi'ovinee.

Yesterday was bathiiiii-day — a cold, damp April day.
No steam on ; I tried the radiators, but there was no
hot air to come. The young teacher — in w-hom I was
so much interested, and whose name I will not give
here, as she always beffgcd n^.e not to mention her
name — she stood with mc at the radiator trying to find
some heat. Tiie Doctor came in and 1 say. ''Doctor,
can't you send up some coal, there is only a few red
coals in the grate, no steam on, and we are nearly fro-
zen?" lie said, ^*The hard coal is all gone." ''Well,
send us some soft (;oal, wood, anything to keep us
warm." ]f<; left us ; no coal came till nfler dinner. I
met one of the nurses in the next ward : I told her our
wants, and slie sent it by a young man who was always
attentive and resj^x'ctful, but we could not always tind a
messenger who would take the trouble to liud him.

The Doctor has i)een in again : Mnry and I were to-
geth(>r as usual, lie looked at us very pleasantly, and
I said, " You w.'l l»e able to send us home now soon,
sureh ." lie drew me away from her. sa\inu, •' I don't
wish her to hear this. Don't you know, Mr. Ring went
to Annapolis and Inmg himseil?" ''They did not watch
him well," said I. and he left, thinking. J suppose, that
he had silen<ied m<' eireetually. I went to Mrs. Mills,
and enquired about Mr. King, and learned that he had
never been here, and was quite an old man. What had
that to do with iis? VVe have no wish to harmouiselves
or any one else. I see now. that is the inlluence he uses
to induce people to leave their fri(Mids here. My son
told me one day he had kei)t the Asylum so well the
public were i)erfe{'lly satisfied with him ; no wondiU' he
conducts it so well wlien there are so few lunatic's here.
1 su|)pose he has left me here waiting for me to get sat-
isfied too- well. I am, but as soon as I am out I shall
write to Mary's mother to come for her. for 1 can hard-

2;i

I3* go and leave her here. I have taken her in ray heart
as my own ; she is so jjfood a girl, wasting her precious
life here for tiie amiu;cnient of otiieis — I don't see any-
thing else in it.

St. John's IloTKL, Athil 30. — At last 1 am free I
Seated in my own room at, the hotel, I look hack at that
prison on t!ie liill. i had won a little interest in the
hearts of the nurses in our ward : they expresstnl regret
at my leaving. Kilen Kegan, who was the lii-st to vol-
unt;eer me any kindness, said, "• \\o shall miss you,
Mrs. Pengillv, for vou nlvvavs had a cheerful word for
every one." I di<l not hid all the [)atients good-bye, lor
I hope soon to return aud stay with them. I would like
so nuK'h to look after these poor women, who are so
neglected. I will ask the Commissioners to allow me
to remain with them, if only one vear, to superintend
the female department, not under the jurisdiction of the
present Superintendent, but with the assistances of the
Junior Physician and the nurses, who each understand
the work of their own departments, and will be willing
to follow my instructions. 1 will teach them to think
theirs is no common servitude — merely working for pa^"
— but a higher responsibility is attached to this work,
of making comfortable those poor ind'ortunates entrust-
ed to tlieir care, and they will learn to know they are
working lor a i)urpose worth living for; and they will
be worthy of the title, '' Sisters of Mercy."

TuKSDAV. — 1 have been to the Solicitor-Ciencral, and
left with him a copy of ])arts of my diary, and 1 am pre-
pared to attest to its truth before the Hoard of (Jonnnis-
sioners, whenever it shall meet. Ih; said he was pleased
to have my suggestions, as tlu-y now had the Provincial
Lunatic Asylum under consideration, and assured me
he would attend to it. His words and manners assure
me he is a gentleman to be relied on. and I feel safe in
leaving mv case in his hands.

I I

,]t7Nk. — I have spent thrci' weeks in Fredeiicton, the
enpitnl of New Jirunswiek. wliile wnitiii^jj for tlie IJoanl
of (.'oniniissioners to meet and (liseuss the affairs of the
Piovineinl Lnnntie Asylnni. eoneernin<i whieii my time
at pn'sent is (h-voted. 'I'liey are members of (Jovern-
meiit, and seem to he too iiiisy for anythinii'. I ealled
on tli<* Attoniey-Ciciieral. wilii what elfeet he iiimself
best knows : it is not worth repejitinii; here. I will only
say, neither he nor his j):n1ner (|uite understand the
courtcsydue to a woman or Indv. It cannot be expeetexl
ot i!ers<)ns who are ovrr-l".')ded with business, thntthey
shall have leisure sullieient to oversee the arran<iementH
of the Provineial Lnutitic As^ lum. whieh needs, like any
other household, a womnn's care to make it perfect.

In my wanderinus since th.e lire of \x71, 1 boarded
some wi'eks til the Y. W. C A. ho)ni' in lioston. a beau-
tiful institution, (.'onducted entii'ely by ladies. It was a
comfortable, hap|)y houic. i-uled by ladies who w like
mothers or iVii^ids to (dl its occupants, and unoei the
supervision of a committee of ladies who visit it every
week. It is such arrani^'ements \\v need to perfect the
working of our ]iui)lic institutions, where a woman's
carc! is requin-d as in a home. JVlen are properly the
outsi<le agi'uts, but women should attend to the inner
workin<j; of any home.

Tile Tewksbury alfair of l<SSo, stands a diso^race to
the New England States, who had so long prided them-
selves on their many i)ublic charitable institutions, and
which have, without question, been an honor to her
people.

1 am sorry to say they aii' not all perfect, as I learned
from the lips of a young man in this hotel, who looked
as if he were going home to die. He had been waiting
some weeks in the lioston City Hospital, until the warm
weather should make his journey less dangerous in hi»
weak state. *' If 1 should live a hundred years, I should
never get that hospital off my mind," were his words»
as he lay back in his chaii- looking so sad ; *' a disa-
gi'eeable. uukind nurse, a cold ward, and miserable

food." His words touched a responsive chord in my
heart, for mj' experiences had been similar to his ; I
can never forget tliem.

Let me here entreat the ladies, wherever this book
may be read, that the}' take this w'ork upon Iheniselves.
Rise up in your own strength, and solicit the Governor
to appoint you as Commissioners, as you are over your
Old Ladies* Homes. If the Governor has the authoritv
or power to appoint those who now foim the Board of
Commissioners of the Provincial Lunatic Asvhim. he

ft.'

can surely invest you with the same title, and you will
not any longer allow your fellow-sisters to be neglected
b}' those who cannot understand ihe weakness or the
misfortunes that have brought them under the necessity
of being protected by the public.

Before leaving Fredericton,! called at the Government
House to lay mv case before His Excellencv the Lieu-

1/ • ft.

tenant Governor, hoping to awaken his sympathy in
our cause, and urge him to call an early meeting of the
Board. I was so anxious to return to the care of those
poor feeble women I had left in the Asylum ; so anx-
ious to right their wrongs, I could not be restrained by
friend or foe from finishing this work so near my heart.
Some of my friends really believe me insane on the
subject. There are those who can apply this to them-
selves, and others whose kindness and hospitality I
shall ever remember with grateful pleasure. They will
none of them doubt the truth of this statement.

Governor Wilmot did not doubt me. He received me
very kindly, as did also his good lady. After convers-
ing with him on the subject until I felt I ought not tres-
pass an}' longer on his time, I rose to leave, and at the
door expressed a wish for a bunch of lilacs that grew
in great abundance on large bushes interspersed with
trees, and whi(;h made the grounds look very beautiful.
He gathered me a bunch with his own hand, for which
I felt thankful and highly honored ; as we walked to-
gether I told him my father's name. " Lewis Huestis,"
said he, "1 knew him well." 1 had not known that,

1 ^

but I did know that Wilmot had always been an hon-
ored name in mv father's house. When biddina: him
good-bye, I again referred to the old subject, by say-
ing, "I have lost m}- home and business by the lire ; ni}'
sons are scattered abroad in the world and do not need
m}' care ; I would like to devote my remaining years,
as far as I am able, to better the condition of those
poor sufferers in the Asylum." lie answered, ''I hope
you will, for I think it will be well for them to have
your care, and I will do all I can to assist vou." These
were his words, as near as I can remember, and I left
the Government House, feelinij as if I had been makinij
a pleasant call on an old fiiend. 1 write these last few
lines as a tri!)ute of respect to the meujory of the name
of Governor Wilmot. and that of my own father, who
always had the interests of his country at heart.

I returned to the citv feelino- cheered bv the words of
encouragement and sympathy I had received. It well
repaid me for the trouble of my journey to Fredericton.

I will leave this subject now in the hands of the la,
dies, wherever this little book may liud them, who, hav-
ing leisure and influence, will not, I hope, fail to use
them for the benelit of suifering humanity, remember-
ing we are all children of one Father — Our Fatlier in
Heaven. Improve the talent He has given you, that it
may be said to you, ''Well done, thou good and faithful
servant."

Respectfully,

M. H. P.

' I mimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

mmmm

>l«v

J -'--^