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  A SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF

  ELIZABETH T. STONE,

  AND OF HER PERSECUTIONS,

  WITH AN APPENDIX

  OF HER

  _TREATMENT AND SUFFERINGS_

  WHILE IN THE

  CHARLESTOWN McLEAN ASSYLUM,

  WHERE SHE WAS CONFINED UNDER THE

  PRETENCE OF INSANITY.


  1842:

  PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR.




  TABLE OF CONTENTS
                                 PAGE
  PREFACE.                        3
  REMARKS.                        33
  CLOSING REMARKS TO CHRISTIANS.  37
  ERRATA.                         42




PREFACE.


Feeling that the public is very much deceived concerning the treatment
and situation of a poor afflicted class of the human family, who are
placed in the McLean Assylum at Charlestown, by their relatives, and
are left in the hands of strangers, subjected to the treatment of those
whose hearts are hardened by being long accustomed to human suffering,
and who are ignorant and unqualified, I will expose this matter to the
public, in behalf of the afflicted, in connection with the _awful,
brutal outrage_ that has been committed upon me in consequence of
indisposition resulting from hard labor and persecution, so the public
may be warned against placing their friends there, especially if they
would not have them ill-treated or suffer unnecessarily.

First, I shall give a short sketch of my life down to the time when I
was carried to the Hospital; then an account of the CRIME in connection
with the treatment I received there, until I was taken out. I feel that
this should particularly interest the christian world; but whether it
is believed or not, I am determined to publish it, that the people of
God may take care of their own people in time of persecution at the
expense of one's life, whether father, mother, brother, or sister step
in between. The unconverted do not understand _spirituality_, therefore
a weak, persecuted christian should not be consigned to their hands. If
others who have suffered this cruelty before me (as Dr. Fox says that
both _male and female christians have been destroyed there before_)
had published and exposed the wicked crime to the world, I might have
been saved from suffering here and hereafter. It is covered up under
the garb of "derangement," but I am willing to let the world know it,
that others may be saved from these awful outrages of the wicked at
the present day. I know that the world in general is ignorant of this
crime--of the fact that Doctors do possess knowledge of giving medicine
to take away from a person the spirit of Christ,--but I have suffered
it.

I was born in Westford, Mass. My father was a mechanic, and poor; my
mother being often sick, with a family of 7 boys and 3 girls, we were
all sent out young upon the world, to get our own living. I being the
youngest girl, was left at home alone. The peculiar situation which
I sustained in the family, being early disowned by my father as his
lawful child, he being intemperate at the time, may be imagined. I was
often the object of his wrath, though in his sober hours I was kindly
treated by him, as he was a man of tender feelings. But my mother's
affections were always alienated from me, and I always felt the want of
a mother's love, and consequently became very unhappy. I determined to
seek my own living and share the same fate of the rest of the family by
buffeting a cold unfeeling world.

At the age of fifteen I resorted to the factories in Lowell, where I
found employment and became expert at the business. Knowing that I
had myself to take care of and no one to depend upon, I was ambitious
and often asked my overseer for the privilege of tending double work,
which was often granted; and as I had the means of providing for my
own wants and some to spare, I became restless and often wished I
had the means to go to school, as my mother often told her children
to get learning--it was what the world could not take from us; (but
O, alas! mine has been taken from me by medicine, being given to me
in an artful manner to harden my brains, and the brain is the seat
of the mind and the mind is the store-house of knowledge) and I felt
the want of it as I became advanced in years and went into society.
I soon began to make arrangments to place myself at some school. I
went home at the age of eighteen and went to the Academy in Westford
three or four months, and then, in the year 1834, the first of May,
I started for New Hampton in company with a young lady from Boston,
she being my only acquaintance. I found the school very pleasant, and
the teachers were ardently pious. It was now that I felt that God had
often called after me and I had refused to obey him for my teacher said
without the mind was enlightened by the Spirit of Christ it was not
prepared for knowledge. This increased the carnal state of my heart
against religion, for it appeared to me like foolishness, for there
was nothing but the simple religion of Jesus Christ, no disputing, no
sectarian spirit, and I was surrounded by the prayers of my teachers
and the pious scholars. But I withstood all the entreaties through
the summer term. I was determined not to get religion when there was
much said about it, for I looked upon it as excitement, as many others
foolishly call it. There were about one hundred and five scholars,
and at the end of the term all but three of us professed to have an
interest in Christ. During the vacation I could not throw off the
conviction that had seized hold of my mind, that God in his mercy had
spared my life, and permitted me to enjoy this last privilege. At the
commencement of the Fall term as usual, we all assembled on Sunday
morning--the professors in the Hall above, while the unconverted were
in the Hall below--to hear the Scriptures explained. Miss. Sleeper,
one of the teachers, that assembled with us, came directly to me after
the exercises were over and asked me if I felt as I did during the
last term. I told her no. She said she was very glad of it and hoped
I should not leave off seeking until I found the Savior. I felt that
I had committed myself, that I now could not draw back, that I must
persevere on and let the world know that I needed a Saviour to save me
from acting out the wicked state of my heart. I could not throw it
off. On Monday evening all the unconverted were invited by our much
loved teacher, Miss. Haseltine, to meet her at the Hall. Accordingly
I went in company with several other young ladies. After reading the
Scriptures and addressing us very affectionately, she asked us to kneel
down and join her in prayer. Accordingly I did so, but I thought I
was more hardened than ever; and felt ashamed that I was on my bended
knees; but wishing to act from principle and to prove whether there was
any reality in what my teacher said about religion, I was determined
to persevere on, although it was contrary to my carnal state of heart.
Accordingly I told every one that I meant to know the real religion
of Jesus Christ and live up to it, if it was what they said it was.
I attended all the meetings and was willing to do any thing that I
thought I ought to do; but I began to think that I had grieved the
Holy Spirit and was about giving up seeking any longer until I should
feel, as very often I did before in meetings and then I should have
religion. This was on Saturday, a fortnight after I was willing to own
that I felt the need of an interest in Christ. On my way home from
school, a young lady overtook me and inquired what was the state of my
feelings, I frankly told her what was my conclusion. She then told me
how she found the Saviour--how she sought three years; but all that
time she said she was seeking conviction when she ought to have sought
forgiveness and told me that I must seek for immediate forgiveness, and
asked me if I was willing to. I told her that I would, for I found that
I had been seeking conviction and was already convicted. Accordingly I
went home, and after dinner took my Bible and retired alone to a grove
not far distant, where I spent the afternoon in reading and praying,
but did not find any change in my feelings. I was summonds to tea by
the ringing of the bell. I went in and took my seat at the table, but
while sitting there I thought I was acting foolishly, that I ought
not to eat, drink, or sleep, until I found forgivness. I rose from
the table and retired to my room and knelt down and asked God what I
should do in order to be forgiven; then rose up and was sitting down
by the table with my head upon my hand wondering what I should do,
when something seemed to say to me, "open the door of your heart and
admit me." I immediately thought I could not without I was better, but
something said "_no, now_." I thought the next day being Sunday, I
would, after I had been to church; _but no_, the voice said _now_--that
I said I would. If _Christ_ would but receive me, I would _him_ just as
I was. I thought _I would_. I rose and walked across the room, and was
frightened to think what I had said; that I had entered into a covenant
with God. At that time a young lady, Mary Ann Burbank, entered the room
and asked me if I was going to meeting, as it was customary to have a
female prayer meeting at the hall on Saturday evening. I told her yes.
She said it was too late. I told her I was going, (I thought if they
were just coming out I would go.) I put on my things, and she said she
would go with me. Accordingly we went out of the house together and
said nothing to each other. I thought of nothing in particular; but
as we were walking and had got a rod or two from the house, I thought
how fast I was walking, and how earnest I was to get there. I spoke
to Miss Burbank and said that I never went to a place with so much
eagerness in my life. She asked me if I felt better. I told her that
I never was so happy in my life. She said she was glad; she had been
recently baptized. I had before not liked her very well, but now I
loved her with all my heart, because she had owned the Savior before
the world. I immediately thought of the balls and parties that I had
been to, and it seemed nothing to what it would be to get into a prayer
meeting. It seemed that the Bible I had never read and that I knew
nothing about it and when I tried to think of it the passages flowed
into my mind faster than I could repeat; the first passage I thought
of was the Greeks foolishness to the Jews, but to them that believe
Christ the power of God unto salvation, and many others. It seemed
that I stepped out of one world into another. I went into the hall
and they were singing, and then they knelt down and prayed. A young
lady prayed for me, seeing me on my knees. I longed to have her close
her prayer to tell them what God had done for me. As we rose I opened
my mouth and words flowed faster than I could speak, I blessed and
praised God and asked them all to forgive me for the opposition that I
had manifested towards them for their entreating me to be reconciled
to God. There was great rejoicing over me. Some wept, some prayed,
and some sang. It was a happy time. Some that were seeking seeing me
so happy said they were determined to find the Savior that night and
two young ladies that boarded with me did, to the joy of their souls.
I felt that I had a new life to live and was determined to live it. I
loved all the people of God, and my feelings soon began to be tried by
seeing the divisions that were among them; but I was determined not to
have any thing to do with it, but meant to keep the faith as it was
once delivered to the Saints, that is, to keep the love previous to my
conversion. I had always thought that immersion was right, and still
thought so; but still I loved to hear sinners called to repentance,
and to join in prayer with any one that told how Christ saved them
daily from sinning. I felt that I must own the Savior in all my ways
and words, for it was what I loved, and I hated the sin that was in
my heart and often cried out, O wretched person that I am, who shall
deliver me from this body of sin and death. I longed to be freed from
sin. I soon began to think of becoming a missionary, that is, to go
to the far distant heathen who had never heard of the Gospel. I asked
God what I should do. I was determined to do what God gave me to do
at the expense of my life, for I counted not my life dear unto me,
and soon the spirit led me in prayer for my parents, but how could
they be converted without the way of salvation was explained to them?
They did not attend public worship; they believed that they should be
saved when they should die; but I had found a Saviour that saved me
here from sinning, for the love of God constrained me to lay down all
earthly enjoyments when they came in contact with any thing that I must
do for Christ. I thought I would go to them and tell them, thinking
they would believe me. Accordingly on my return from school I visited
my parents, but not until the Spring, on fast day, with my youngest
brother. We passed the day very agreeably. I told them that I had met
with a change, but said but little, as I did not wish to argue the
point, for they were both against me and said they thought I had got my
brain _turned_ by studying too much. But I knew I must bear this and
greater things if I wished to do my heavenly Father's will, which was
my meat and drink. I left home without praying for them, which I felt
condemned for. I resolved if God would spare my life to go home again
I would bear the cross of Christ. During the winter my mind had been
much tried about the two ordinances; and what to do, I did not know,
for I wished to give a reasonable answer why I went with one class of
God's people more than another. I boarded with a Mr Washburn, a very
pious man belonging to the First Congregational church in Lowell.--I
said nothing to him about forms and ceremonies, nor he to me; but I
came to the conclusion to be an immersed Congregationalist, because
they admitted all to the communion that had professed the Savior before
the world. I concluded to return to school, and called upon Mrs Tilton,
one of my acquiantance that belonged to the Baptist Church. She asked
me why I had not been in to see her, and she thought my mind had been
tried about baptism. I told her not in the least, for I always thought
immersion was right but my mind was tried about the communion--why
all the people of God could not come together. She said that she had
a little book she would lend me to read. I took it and went home and
read it; it was upon Church and Christian fellowship. I thought it
explained it to my mind and told her I was thankful for it; but as I
was to start for New Hampton the next day could not be baptized there.
I arrived at New Hampton the second week in May, 1835, and met once
more my much loved teachers. During the Summer term my mind was much
taken up with my studies, and the religious state of feeling was very
low. There were no conversions during this term. At the commencement of
the Fall term our teacher addressed us upon the subject and hoped that
each one would do something to win sinners to Christ. All felt it, and
again God poured out his Holy Spirit and sinners were slain; my health
was poor and I was about leaving school on account of my limited means.
My teacher asked me if I was not going to be baptized before I left
school, together with some other young ladies. I had always thought I
was willing, should the opportunity be presented. Here I had a trial,
but went forward with some others, determined never to disobey God of
keeping his commandments or doing whatever the love of God constrained
me to do, however crossing it was to my carnal feelings. I returned to
Lowell and resumed my labor, still feeling determined to procure an
education to go to the poor heathen to carry the news of salvation; but
my means became limited and I was obliged to use prudence in reference
to my dress and spending my time. My oldest sister proposed to have
me come and work with her at the tailoress business in Boston, and
this sister I had ardently loved and looked up to for advice. But I
was making very good wages at that time and thought it not best for
me to go then; although I wanted a trade to help me along in case I
should go among the poor and destitute. But as my sister Nancy's health
was not good at that time I proposed for her to go to Boston and I
would come in the Fall or early in the Winter, which was agreed to.
I concluded to go to work with my sister until the slack time should
come on in the Winter, and then I thought I should go to Charlestown
Seminary