Angelina arrived in Philadelphia in the latter part of October, 1829,
and made her home with Sarah in the family of Catherine Morris.
Over the next four or five years I must pass very briefly, although
they were marked by many interesting incidents and some deep sorrows,
and much that the sisters wrote during that time I would like to
notice, if space permitted.
We see Sarah still regarding herself as the vilest of sinners, against
whom it seemed at times as if every door of mercy was closed, and still
haunted by her horror of horrors, the ministry. Her preparation
continued, but brought her apparently no nearer the long-expected and
dreaded end. She was still unrecognized by the Church. First-day
meetings were looked forward to without pleasure, while the Quarterly
and Yearly meetings were seasons of actual suffering. Of one of the
latter she says,--
"I think no criminal under sentence of death can look more fearfully to
the day of execution than I do towards our Yearly Meeting."
Still she would nerve herself from time to time to arise when the
Spirit moved her, and say a few words, but deriving no satisfaction
from the exercise, except that of obedience to the divine will.
Doubtless she would have grown out of all this timidity, and would have
acquitted herself more acceptably in meeting, if she had met with
consideration and kindness from the elders and influential members of
the Society. But, for reasons not clearly explained, her efforts do not
seem to have been generally regarded with favor; and so sensibly did
she feel this that she trembled in every limb when obliged even to
offer a prayer in the presence of one of the dignitaries. It is
probable that her ultra views on various needed reforms in the society,
and declining--as she and Angelina both did--to conform to all its
peculiar usages, gave offence. For instance, the sisters never could
bring themselves to use certain ungrammatical forms of speech, such as
_thee_ for _thou_, and would wear bonnets of a shape and material
better adapted to protect them from the cold than those prescribed by
Quaker style. It was also discovered that they indulged in vocal prayer
in their private devotions, which was directly contrary to established
usage. These things were regarded as quiet protests against customs
which all members of the Society were expected to respect. As to the
_principles_ of Quakerism, the sisters were more scrupulous in obeying,
them than many of the elders themselves. Sarah frequently mentions the
coldness and indifference with which she was treated by those from whom
she had a right to look for tender sympathy and friendly counsel, and
feelingly records the kindness and encouragement offered to her by many
of the less conspicuous brothers and sisters. It is no doubt that to
this treatment by those in authority was due the gradual waning of her
interest in Quakerism, although she is far from acknowledging it.
One obstacle in the way of her success as a preacher was her manner of
speaking. Though a clear, forcible thinker and writer, she lacked the
gift of eloquence which so distinguished Angelina, and being, besides,
exceedingly self-conscious, it was difficult for her to express herself
satisfactorily in words. Her speech was sometimes slow and hesitating;
at others, when feeling very deeply, or at all embarrassed, rapid and a
little confused, as though she was in a hurry to get through. This
irregularity laid her open to the charge which was frequently brought
against her, that she prepared and committed her offerings to memory
before coming to meeting, an almost unpardonable offence according to
the views of those making the accusation. That her earnest denial of
this should be treated lightly was an additional wrong which Sarah
never entirely succeeded in forgiving. In reference to this she says:--
"The suffering passed through in meeting, on account of the ministry,
feeling as if I were condemned already whenever I arise; the severe
reproofs administered by an elder to whom I did a little look for
kindness; the cutting charge of preparing what I had to say out of
meeting, and going there to preach, instead of to worship, like poor
Mary Cox, was almost too much for me. It cost me hours of anguish; but
Jesus allayed the storm and gave me peace; for in looking at my poor
services I can truly say it is not so, although my mind is often
brought under exercise on account of this work, and many are the
sleepless hours I pass in prayer for preservation in it, feeling it
indeed an awful thing to be a channel of communication between God and
His people."
Referring to the charge again, some time later, she says:--
"There are times when I greatly fear my best life will perish in this
conflict. I have felt lately as if I were ready to give up all, and to
question all I have known and done."
As contrasting with the very different opinions she held a few years
later, the following lines from her diary, about the beginning of 1830,
are interesting:--
"There are seasons when my heart is so filled with apostolic love that
I feel as if I could freely part with all I hold most dear, to be
instrumental to the salvation of souls, especially those of the members
of my own religious society; and the language often prevails, 'I am not
sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.' Yet woman's
preaching mocks at all my reasoning. I cannot see it to be right, and I
am moving on in faith alone, feeling that 'Woe is me, if I preach not
the Gospel.' To see is no part of my business, but I marvel not at the
unbelief of others; every natural feeling is against it."
About this time, Angelina was admitted as a member of Friends' Society,
and began her preparation for the ministry. But her active spirit
needed stronger food to satisfy its cravings. It was not enough for her
to accept the few duties assigned to her; she must make others for
herself. Her restless energy, which was only her ambition to be
practically useful, refused to let her sit with folded hands waiting
for the Lord's work. She was too strong to be idle, too conscious of
the value of the talents committed to her charge, to be willing to lay
them away for safe keeping in a Quaker napkin, spotless as it might be.
She never loved the Society of Friends as Sarah did. She chafed under
its restrictions, questioned its authority, and rebelled against the
constant admonition to "be still." On one page of her diary, dated a
short time before her admission to Friends' Society, she says:--
"I have passed through some trying feelings of late about becoming a
member of Friends' Society. Perhaps it is Satan who has been doing all
he could to prevent my joining, by showing me the inconsistencies of
the people, and persuading me that _I_ am too good to be one of them. I
have been led to doubt if it was right for me ever to have worn the
dress of a Quaker, for I despised the very form in my heart, and have
felt it a disgrace to have adopted it, so empty have the people seemed
to me, and sometimes it has seemed impossible that I should ever be
willing to join them. My heart has been full of rebellion, and I have
even dared to think it hard that I should have to bear the burdens of a
people I did not, could not, love."
Angelina's devotion to Sarah led her to resent the treatment of the
latter by the elders, and came near producing a breach between
Catherine Morris and the sisters.
Nevertheless, she did join the Society, impelled thereto, we are forced
to believe, more by love and consideration for Sarah than by religious
conviction. But she constantly complains of her "leanness and
barrenness of spirit," of "doubts and distressing fears" as to the
Lord's remembrance of her for good, and grieves that she is such a
useless member of the Church, the "activity of nature," she says,
"finding it very hard to stand and wait."
Her restlessness, no doubt, gave Sarah some trouble, for there are
several entries in her diary like the following:--
"O Lord, be pleased, I beseech Thee, to preserve my precious sister
from moving in her own will, or under the deceitful reasonings of
Satan. Strengthen her, I beseech Thee, to be _still_."
But though Angelina tried for a time to submit passively to the slow
training marked out for her, she found no satisfaction in it. She
looked to the ministry as her ultimate field of labor, but she must be
doing something in the meanwhile, something outside of the missionary
work which satisfied Sarah's conscience. But what should that be? The
same difficulties which had humiliated and frightened Sarah into a life
of quiet routine now faced Angelina. But she looked at them bravely,
measured herself with them, and resolved to conquer them. The field of
education was the only one which seemed to promise the active
usefulness she craved; and she at once set about fitting herself to be
a teacher. She was now twenty-six years old, but no ambitious girl of
fifteen ever entered upon school duties with more zest than she
exhibited in preparing a course of study for herself. History,
arithmetic, algebra, and geometry were begun, with her sister Anna as a
fellow-student, and much time was devoted to reading biography and
travels. All this, however, was evening work. Her days were almost
wholly given up to charities and the appointed meetings assigned to her
by the society, into all of which she infused so much energy that
Catherine and Sarah both began to fear that she was in danger of losing
some of her spirituality. She says herself that she was so much
interested in some of her work that the days were not long enough for
her.
There is no allusion in the diary or letters of either of the sisters,
in 1829 or 1830, to the many stirring events of the anti-slavery
movement which occurred after the final abolition of slavery in New
York, in 1827, and which foreshadowed the earnest struggle for
political supremacy between the slave power and the free spirit of the
nation. The daily records of their lives and thoughts exhibit them in
the enjoyment of their quiet home with Catherine Morris, visiting
prisons, hospitals, and alms-houses, and mourning over no sorrow or
sins but their own. Angelina was leading a life of benevolent effort,
too busy to admit of the pleasures of society, and her Quaker
associations did not favor contact with the world's people, or promote
knowledge of the active movements in the larger reforms of the day. As
to Sarah, she was still suffering keenly under the great sorrow of her
life.
At this time, Angelina was a most attractive young woman. Tall and
graceful, with a shapely head covered with chestnut ringlets, a
delicate complexion and features, and clear blue eyes, which could
dance with merriment or flash with indignation, and withal a dignified,
yet gentle and courteous bearing, it is not surprising that she should
have had many admirers of the opposite sex, even in the limited society
to which she was confined. Nor can we wonder that, with a heart so
susceptible to all the finer emotions, she should have preferred the
companionship of one to that of all others. But though for more than
two years this friendship--for it never became an engagement--absorbed
all her thoughts, to the exclusion even of her studies, I must conclude
from the plain evidence in the case that it was only a warm
_friendship_, at least on her side, not the strong, enduring love,
based upon entire sympathy, which afterwards blessed her life. It owed
its origin to her admiration for intellectuality in men, and its
continuance to her womanly pity; for the object of her preference
suffered much from ill-health, which at last gave way altogether in the
latter part of 1832, when he died.
To the various emotions naturally aroused during this long experience,
and to the depression of spirits which followed the final issue, we may
perhaps partially ascribe Angelina's indifference to the excited state
of feeling throughout the country on the subject of that institution
which "owned no law but human will."
In November, 1831, Sarah Grimké once more, and for the last time,
visited Charleston.
In December, the slave insurrection in Jamaica--tenfold more destructive
to life and property than the insurrection of Nat Turner, in Virginia,
of the preceding August--startled the world; but even this is scarcely
referred to in the correspondence between the two sisters. But that
Angelina, at least, was interested in matters outside of her religion,
we gather from a postscript to one of her letters. "Tell me," she says,
"something about politics."
This refers to nullification, that ill-judged and premature attempt at
secession made by the Calhoun wing of the slave power, which was then
the most exciting topic in South Carolina. Thomas Grimké was one of the
few eminent lawyers in the State who, from the first, denounced and
resisted the treasonable doctrine,--he so termed it in an open letter
of remonstrance addressed to Calhoun, McDuffie, Governor Hayne, and
Barnwell Rhett, his cousin and legal pupil, who was afterwards
attorney-general of the State.[1] Mr. Grimké represented at that time
the city of Charleston in the State Senate; and in a two days' argument
he so triumphantly exposed the sophistries and false pretences of the
nullifiers, that his constituents, enraged by it, gathered a mob, and
with threats of personal violence attacked his house. But this
descendant of the Huguenots had been seasonably warned; and, sending
his family to the country, he illuminated his front windows, threw open
his doors, and seated himself quietly on the porch to await his
visitors. The howling horde came on, but when the man they sought
boldly advanced to meet them, and announced himself ready to be mobbed
for the cause he had denounced, their courage faltered; they tried to
hoot, balked, broke ranks, and straggled away.
[1] Mr. Grimké told Carolina that, if she persisted in her disloyalty,
she would stand as a blasted tree in the midst of her sister States.
A few words just here about this "beloved brother Thomas," who was
always held in reverence by every member of his family, will not be out
of place. As before stated, he was a graduate of Yale College, and rose
to eminence at the bar and in the politics of his State. But he was a
man of peculiar views on many subjects, and while his intellectual
ability was everywhere acknowledged, his judgment was often impugned
and his opinions severely criticised. He gained a wide reputation on
account of his brilliant addresses, especially those of Peace,
Temperance, and Education. He was a prominent member of the American
Peace Society, and did not believe that even defensive warfare was
justifiable. He was a fine classical scholar, but held that both the
classics and the higher mathematics should not be made obligatory
studies in a collegiate education, as being comparatively useless to
the great majority of American young men. A High Church Episcopalian,
and very religious, he strongly urged the necessity of establishing a
Bible class for religious instruction in every school. He also
attempted to make a reform in orthography by dropping out all
superfluous letters, but abandoned this after publishing a small volume
of essays, in which he used his amended words, which, as he gave no
prefatory explanation, were misunderstood and ridiculed. In all these
subjects he was much interested, and succeeded in interesting his
sisters, delegating to them the supervision and correction of his
addresses and essays published in Philadelphia. Strange, indeed, is it,
that this very religious, liberal-minded, and conscientious man was a
large slaveowner, and yet the oppressed and persecuted Cherokees of
Georgia and Alabama had no more earnest advocate than he! And to this
"Indian question" both Sarah and Angelina gave their cordial sympathy.
The correspondence between them and Thomas was a remarkable one. It
embraced the following subjects: Peace, Temperance, the Classics, the
Priesthood, the Jewish Dispensation, Was the Eagle the Babylonian and
Persian Standard? Catholicism, and the universality of human sacrifice,
with short discussions on minor controversial topics. Into all of these
Angelina especially entered with great and evident relish, and her long
letters, covering page after page of foolscap, would certainly have
wearied the patience of any one less interested than Thomas was in the
subjects of which they treated. That which claimed Sarah's particular
interest was Peace, and she held to her brother's views to the end of
her life. She especially indorsed the sentiment expressed in his
written reply to the question, what he would do if he were mayor of
Charleston and a pirate ship should attack the city?
"I would," he answered, "call together the Sunday-school children and
lead them in procession to meet the pirates, who would be at once
subdued by the sight."
In answer to a letter written by Sarah soon after her arrival in
Charleston, Angelina says:--
"I am not at all surprised at the account thou hast given of Carolina,
and yet am not alarmed, as I believe the time of retribution has not
yet fully come, and I cannot but hope that those most dear to us will
have fled from her borders before the day of judgment arrives."
This refers to nullification, which was threatening to end in
bloodshed; but there is in the sentence also an evident allusion to
slavery.
In her next letter she describes the interest she feels in the infant
school, of which she had become a teacher, and does not know which is
the most absorbing,--that, or the Arch Street prison. Before closing,
she says:--
"No doubt thou art suffering a double portion now, for in a land of
slavery there is very much daily--yea, almost hourly,--to try the
better feelings, besides that suffering which thou art so constantly
enduring."
Catherine Morris must have acted the part of a good mother to both
Sarah and Angelina, for they frequently refer to their peaceful home
with her. In one of her letters Angelina says,--
"I never valued the advantages I enjoy so much as I do now; no, nor my
home, either, dear sister. Many a time of late has my heart been filled
with gratitude in looking at the peaceful shelter provided for me in a
strange land. It is just such a home as I would desire were I to have a
choice, and I often ask why my restless heart is not quite happy in the
land of ease which has been assigned me, for I do believe I shall, in
after life, look back upon this winter as one of peculiar favor, a time
granted for the improvement of my mind and my heart."
Again: "Very often do I contrast the sweet, unbroken quiet of the home
I now enjoy with the uncongenial one I was taken from."
In one of her letters she asks: "Dearest, does our precious mother seem
to have any idea of leaving Carolina? Such seems to be the distressing
excitement there from various causes, that I think it cannot be quite
safe to remain there. What does brother Thomas think will be the issue
of the political contest? I find the fate of the poor Indians is now
inevitable."
Towards the close of the winter there are two paragraphs in her letters
which show that she did at least read the daily papers. In one she
asks: "Didst thou know that great efforts are making in the House of
Delegates in Virginia to abolish slavery?"
The other one is as follows:--
"Read the enclosed, and give it to brother Thomas from me. Do you know
how this subject has been agitated in the Virginia legislature?"
The question naturally arises: if a little, why not more? If she could
refer to the subject of the Virginia debates, why should she not in
some of her letters give expression to her own views, or answer some
expressions from Sarah? The _Quaker Society_, is the only answer we can
find; the Society whose rules and customs at that time tended to
repress individuality in its members, and independence of thought or
action; which forbade its young men and maidens to look admiringly on
any fair face or manly form not framed in a long-eared cap, or
surmounted by the regulation broad-brim; which did not accord to a
member the right even to publish a newspaper article, without having
first submitted it to a committee of its Solons.
From the beginning, the Quaker Church bore its testimony against the
abolition excitement. Most Friends were in favor of the Colonization
Society; the rest were gradualists. Their commercial interests were as
closely interwoven with those of the South as were the interests of any
other class of the Northern people, and it took them years to admit, if
not to discover, that there was any new light on the subject of human
rights.
"The mills of the gods grind slowly;" and perhaps it was all the better
in the end, for the cause their advocated so grandly, that Sarah and
Angelina Grimké should have gone through this long period of silence
and repression, during which their moral and intellectual forces
gathered power for the conflict--the great work which both had so
singularly and for so many years seen was before them, though its
nature was for a long time hidden.
Angelina's experience in the infant school, interesting as it was to
her, was discouraging so far as her success as a teacher went; and she
soon gave it up and made inquiries concerning some school in which she
could prepare herself to teach. Catherine Beecher's then famous
seminary at Hartford was recommended, and a correspondence was opened.
Several letters passed between Catherine and her would-be pupil, which
so aroused Catherine's interest, that she went on to Philadelphia
chiefly to make a personal acquaintance with the very mature young
woman who at the age of twenty-seven declared she knew nothing and
wanted to go to school again. In one of her letters to Sarah, early in
the spring of 1832, Angelina says,--
"Catherine Beecher has actually paid her promised visit. She regretted
not seeing thee, and seemed much pleased with me. The day after she
arrived she went to meeting with me, and I think was more tired of it
than any person I ever saw. It was a long, silent meeting, except a few
words from J.L."
When Catherine Beecher took her leave of Angelina, she cordially
invited her to visit Hartford, and examine for herself the system of
education there pursued.
Sarah returned to Philadelphia in March, 1832, cutting short her visit
at the earnest entreaty of Angelina, who was then looking forward to
her first Yearly Meeting, and desired her sister's encouraging presence
with her. Writing to Sarah, she says: "I have much desired that we
might at that time mingle in sympathy and love. Truly we have known,
might I not say, the agony of separation."
Soon after Sarah's return, Angelina went to live with Mrs. Frost, in
order to give that sister the benefit of her board. This separation was
a great trial to both sisters, and only consented to from a sense of
duty.