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I hope my impulsive readers will now be prepared to understand that it is not because I did not feel these insults that I did not resent them; but I had not then reached that stage of womanly development where I had the moral courage to defend myself by asserting my own rights. This stage of growth was indeed just dawning upon me; but O! the dense clouds attending this dawning of my individual existence!

I had indeed practically asserted one of these inalienable rights, by not yielding my conscience and opinion to the dictates of creeds or church tyranny.

Yes, I had maintained my rights of conscience in defiance of the marital power also. And this, too, had been the very hinge on which my reputation for sanity had been suspended. As Mr. Packard expressed himself:

"Never before had Elizabeth persistently resisted his will or wishes-a few kind words and a little coaxing would always before set her right; but now she seems strangely determined to have her own way, and it must be she is insane."

Thus, in my first struggle after my independence, I lost my personal liberty.

Sad beginning! Had it not been better for me to submit to oppression and spiritual bondage, rather than have attempted to break the fetters of marital and religious despotism?

No, I cannot feel that I have done either myself or others the least wrong, in the course I have thus far taken; therefore, I have no recantations to make, and can give no pledges of future subjection to either of these powers, where their claims demand the surrender of my conscience to their dictation.

And this is what they call my insanity, and for which I was sent to the asylum to be cured. I think it will be a long time before this cure will be effected. God grant me the quietude of patient endurance, come what will, in the stand I have taken. While these and similar reflections were passing through my mind, the door of my cell was opened by a fine-looking gentleman in company with Mr. Packard, to whom he introduced me as Dr. McFarland, the Superintendent. He had but just returned from a journey east, so that Dr. Tenny, the Assistant, received me.

Dr. McFarland politely invited me to accompany them to the "reception-room."

I gladly accepted this invitation to be restored to the civilities of civilization, even temporarily.

I seated myself upon the sofa by Mr. Packard's side, and the Doctor took the big rocking-chair directly in front of us, and opened a pleasant and interesting conversation, by narrating incidents of his eastern journey. In a very easy and polite manner, he led on the conversation to other points and topics of interest at the present day, and finally to the progressive ideas of the age, even to religion and politics. He very gallantly allowed me a full share of the time to express my own thoughts, while Mr. Packard sat entirely speechless.

As the tone and spirit of the conversation rendered it proper, I recollect I made a remark something like this:

"I don't know why it is, Doctor, it may be merely a foolish pride which prompts the feeling, but I can't help feeling an instinctive aversion to being called insane. There seems to be a kind of disparagement of intellect attending this idea, which seems to stain the purity and darken the lustre of the reputation forever after."

"No, Mrs. Packard, this is not necessarily so; even some of the most renowned and gifted minds in the world have been insane, and their reputation and character are still revered and respected, such as Cowper and Tasso, the greatest poets in the world, and many others."

I made no plea of defence in favor of my sanity, and particularly avoided any disparaging or criminating remarks respecting Mr. Packard, but simply let the conversation take the direction the Doctor dictated. But, as I then thought fortunately for me, he introduced no topic where I felt at any loss what to say, to keep up an intelligent interchange of thought and expression. In short, this interview of an hour or more, was to me a feast of reason and a flow of soul, and it seemed to be equally so to the Doctor, unless my womanly instincts very much deceived me.

When I was returned to my ward, and behind the fatal dead lock, dining with the insane, I must confess I did feel more out of my proper place, than I did while in the reception room of refined society.

After noticing the manner in which the institution was conducted for the three succeeding years, I found that the interview I had had with the Doctor was a most uncommon occurrence. Indeed, I never knew of a single instance where any other patient ever had so fair an opportunity of self-representation, by a personal interview upon their reception into the Asylum, as he had thus allowed me. They are usually taken, forthwith, from their friends in the reception-room, and led directly into the ward, as Dr. Tenny had done by me the night before. But unlike my case afterwards, there they were left to remain indefinitely, so far as an interview with the Doctor was concerned.