violently. She pours upon us a flood of questions, most of which relate
to her own husband, such as--When did we see him last?--How was
he?--What message did he send to her? &c. Turning to my wife, she said,
"You had better have staid at home, and never come to this country.
This country _was_ once a great country: it is so no longer, and all
through that man,"--pointing to Mr. Gallaudet. "Oh that man! what a
villain he is! People out of doors don't know him; and," looking at
myself, "you can't do this country better service than to make known
everywhere the real character of that man. Here he keeps me a prisoner
in this place for nothing at all; but I hope the State will take up the
matter, and punish him well for it." I promised to make known Mr.
Gallaudet's character, and bade her adieu.

We are next introduced to a student of theology, who asks very sensible
and pious questions in reference to the missionary cause and the
progress of the Gospel in British Guiana. This man is perfectly sane
except on one point. He thinks there is a conspiracy to poison him, and
that slow poison is administered to him continually in his food. Mr.
Gallaudet, even by dining at the same table and eating out of the same
dish, has failed to convince him to the contrary.

Now we are taken to the chapel in which Mr. Gallaudet officiates among
them. On the desk is an elegantly-bound Bible, which has been presented
by a former patient, who had experienced in his restoration the value
of this "Retreat." The hymn-book is a collection made on purpose for
the insane, everything gloomy and terrific being excluded. Mr.
Gallaudet, a most intelligent and accomplished man, describes many
remarkable developments of human nature which have come under his
observation, comprising strange combinations of piety and profanity in
the same persons. A patient, who was really a very religious man, in