after this letter was received found Mr. Wharton on his way to
the West, to ascertain for himself the condition of Miss Edwards, and to
endeavor to devise some means for her comfort and restoration, if
possible. Has my reader ever visited a _county house_, and especially
the apartment devoted exclusively to Lunatics? If not, I will endeavor
to describe a few of the sights which met the eyes of Mr. Wharton, on
his sad visit to the county house, which then stood a few miles
from----. He proceeded thither in company with the physician who had
written to him, and sent him the package from Miss Edwards, and it was
with a heavy heart that he first saw the desolate brick building in
which she had been placed, and thought, "Is this the only asylum for one
so lovely and so gifted, and must she wear out her days in hopeless
madness here?" Making their way through the crowd of miserable,
hobbling, bandaged, blind and helpless creatures who were standing about
the yard and halls, Mr. Wharton and Dr. Masten, guided by the
superintendent of the county house, paused before the door of the "crazy
room." Sounds of many voices were already heard, in various tones,
singing and shouting, and preaching, and when the door was opened the
din was such that it was impossible for the gentlemen to hear each other
speak.

What a place, thought Mr. Wharton, for those who should be kept quiet
and tranquil, and who should have nothing about them but pleasant,
cheerful sights. What possible hope is there of the restoration of any
here!

About the large and not over clean room, were a number of _cages_, much
like those you now see placed around a menagerie tent, though not so
large or so comfortable as these cages of wild beasts. In each of these
cages was confined a human being, and these poor creatures stricken by
the hand of God, were in various stages of insanity, some wildly raving,
others more quiet, and others still in a state of helpless idiocy. One
poor creature had preached till her voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper,
and so she continued to preach, the keeper told them, day and night,
till utterly exhausted, when she would fall into a state of
insensibility, which could hardly be called _sleep_, but from which she
would arouse to preach again, day and night, till again exhausted.

A boy about sixteen years of age sat in one of the cages, with scarcely
a rag to cover him, idly pulling through his fingers a bit of cord. This
had been his e