In July, 1832, Angelina, accompanied by a friend, set out to make her
promised visit to Hartford. Her journal, kept day by day, shows her to
have been at this time in a most cheerful frame of mind, which fitted
her to enjoy not only the beautiful scenery on her journey, but the
society of the various people she met. At times she is almost like a
young girl just out of school; and we can hardly wonder that she felt
so, after the monotonous life she had led so long, and the uniform
character of the people with whom she had associated. She visited New
Haven, with its great college, and then went to Hartford, where a week
was pleasantly spent in attendance on Catherine Beecher's classes, and
in visiting Lydia Sigourney, and others, to whom she had brought
letters. After examining Angelina, Catherine gave her the gratifying
opinion that she could be prepared to teach in six months, and she at
once began to try her hand at drawing maps., and to take part in many
of the exercises of the school. She could, however, make no definite
arrangement until her return to Philadelphia; but she was full of
enthusiasm, and utilized to the very utmost the advantages of
conversation with Catherine and Harriet Beecher. She was evidently
quite charmed with Harriet's bright intellect and pleasant manner, and
refers particularly to a very satisfactory conversation held with her
about Quakers. The people of this Society were so little known in New
England at that period, that Angelina and her friend, in their peculiar
dress, were objects of great curiosity where-ever they went. Catherine
Beecher accompanied them back to New Tork, and saw them safely on their
way to Philadelphia. But when Angelina mentioned to Friends her desire
to return to Hartford and become a teacher, she was answered with the
most decided disapprobation. Several unsatisfactory reasons were
given--"going among strangers"--"leaving her sisters,"--"abandoning her
charities," &c., the real one probably being the fear to trust their
impressionable young member to Presbyterian influence. And so she must
content herself to sink down in the old ruts, and plod on in work which
was daily becoming more insufficient to her intellectual and spiritual
needs. Her chief pleasure was her correspondence with her brother
Thomas, with whom she discussed controversial Bible questions, and
various moral reforms, including prison discipline; but only once does
she seem to have touched the question of slavery, which absorbed the
public mind to such a degree that there was scarcely a household
throughout the length and breadth of the land, that did not feel its
influence in some way.
In 1832 the most intense excitement prevailed throughout the South,
especially in South Carolina, where Mr. Calhoun had just thrown down
the gauntlet to the Federal government. In this Angelina expresses some
interest, though chiefly from a religious point of view, as she regards
all the important events then taking place as "signs of the times," and
congratulates herself and her brother that they live in "such an
important and interesting era, when the laws of Christianity are
interwoven with the system, of education, and with even the discipline
of prisons and houses of refuge." In one of her letters we find the
following:--
"I may be deceived, but the cloud which has arisen in the South will, I
fear, spread over all our heavens, though it looks now so small. It
will come down upon us in a storm which will beat our government to
pieces; for, beautiful as it may appear, it is, nevertheless, not built
upon the foundation of the apostles and the prophets, Jesus Christ
himself being the chief corner-stone. We may boast of this temple of
liberty, but oh, my brother, it is not of God."
In this letter she speaks of being much interested in "Ramsey's Civil
and Ecclesiastical Polity of the Jews," and mentions that they were
studying together, in the family, "Townsend's Old Testament,
chronologically arranged, with notes, a work in twenty-eight volumes."
She adds:--
"Will not the study of the Bible produce a thirst for the purest and
most valuable literature, as, to understand it, we must study the
history of nations, natural history, philosophy, and geography."
In another letter she says:--
"I am glad of thy opinions, but I cannot see that Carolina will escape.
Slavery is too great a sin for justice always to sleep over, and this
is, I believe, the true cause of the declining state of Carolina; this
the root of bitterness which is to trouble our republic. I am not moved
by fear to these reflections, but by a calm and deliberate
consideration of the state of the Church, and while I believe
convulsions and distress are coming upon this country, I am comforted
in believing that _my_ kingdom is not of this world, nor thine either,
I trust, beloved brother."
To this letter Sarah adds a postscript, and says: "My fears respecting
you are often prevalent, but I endeavor not to be too anxious. The Lord
is omnipotent, and although I fear His sword is unsheathed against
America, I believe He will remember His own elect, and shield them....
Do the planters approve or aid the Colonization Society? There have
been some severe pieces published in our papers about it."
At this time--that is, during the summer of 1832--Sarah lived a more
than usually retired life, and her diary only records her increased
depression of spirits, and her continued painful experiences in
meeting. She would gladly have turned her back upon it all, and sought
a home elsewhere at the North, or have returned to Charleston, but she
dared not move without divine approbation, and this never seemed
sufficiently clear to satisfy her.
"Surely," she says, "though I cannot understand why it is so, there
must be wisdom in the decree which forbids my seeking another home.
Most gladly would I have remained in Charleston, but my Father's will
was not so."
And again she says,--
"But while the desire to escape present conflict has turned my mind
there [to Charleston] with longing towards my precious mother, all the
answer I can hear from the sanctuary is, 'Stay here;' and Satan adds,
'to suffer.'" According to Sarah's own views, she had thus far made
little or no progress towards the great end and aim of her labors and
sacrifices,--the securing of her eternal salvation; and the amount of
misery she managed to manufacture for herself out of this thought, and
her many fancied transgressions, is sad in the extreme. Years
afterwards, in a letter to a young friend, she says,--
"I have suffered the very torments of the fabled hell, because my
conscience was sore to the touch all over. I would fain have you spared
such long, dark years of anguish."
And to another friend, concerning this portion of her life, she
writes,--
"Much of my suffering arose from a morbid conscience,--a conscience
which magnified infirmities into crimes, and transformed our blessed
Father in heaven into a stern judge, who punishes to the uttermost
every real or imaginary departure from what we apprehend to be his
requirements. Deceived by the false theological views in which I was
educated, I was continually lashed by the scorpion whip of a perverted
conscience."
During the winter of 1832-33, the time of both sisters was much taken
up in nursing a sick woman, whose friendless position stirred
Angelina's sense of duty, and she had her removed to Mrs. Frost's
house. She and Sarah took upon themselves all the offices of nurse,
even the most menial. They read to her, and tried to cheer her during
the day, sat up with her at night, and in every way devoted themselves
to the poor consumptive, until death came to her relief. Such a
sacrifice to a sense of duty was all the more admirable, as the invalid
was unusually exacting and unreasonable, and felt apparently little
appreciation of the trouble she gave. Angelina, being in the same
house, was more with her than Sarah, and she could scarcely have shown
her greater attention if the tenderest ties had existed between her and
her charge.
This was only one among the many similar acts of self-abnegation which
were dotted all along Angelina's path through life; she never went out
of her way to avoid them, but would travel any distance to take them
up, if duty pointed her to them; and in accepting them she never seemed
to think she was doing more than just what she ought to do, although
they were generally of the kind which bring no honor or reward, except
that sense of duty fulfilled which spreads over hearts like hers such
sweet content.
From many passages in the diaries, it is evident that, as the agitating
questions of the time were forced upon the notice of Sarah and
Angelina, their thoughts were diverted from the narrow channel to which
they had so long been confined; and, in proportion as their interest in
these matters increased, the cords which bound them to their religious
society loosened. Angelina, as we have before remarked, never stood in
the same attitude as Sarah towards the Society. To the latter, it was
as the oracle of her fate, whose decrees she dared not question, much
less disobey. It represented to her mind the divine will and purposes,
which were wisdom entirely, and could only fail through the pride or
disobedience of sinners like herself. Angelina, on the contrary,
regarded it as made up of human beings with human intellects, full of
weakness, and liable to err in the interpretation of the Lord's will,
and, while praying for guidance and strength, believed it wise to
follow her own judgment to a great extent. She could not be restrained
from reasoning for herself, and would often have acted more
independently, but for her affection for Sarah. The scales, however,
were slowly falling from Sarah's eyes, though it was long before she
saw the new light as anything but a snare of Satan, who she felt sure
was bound to have her, in spite of all her struggles. Against the
growing coolness towards her Society she did struggle and pray in
deepest contrition. At one time she writes,--
"Satan is tempting me strongly with increased dissatisfaction with
Friends; but I know if I am to be of any use it is in my own Society."
And again: "I beseech thee, O God, to fill my heart with love for the
Society of Friends. I shall be ruined if I listen to Satan."
But all this was of no avail. Angelina was growing in knowledge, and
was imparting to Sarah what she learned. The evidence is meagre, but
there is enough to show that the ruling topics claimed much of their
attention during that summer, and that Angelina, especially, drew upon
herself more than one reproof from Catherine Morris for the interest
she manifested in "matters entirely outside of the Society." In the
spring, she writes in a letter to Thomas:--
"The following proposition was made at a Colonization meeting in this
city: is it strictly true? 'No two nations, brought together under
similar circumstances with those under which the Africans have been
brought into this country, have amalgamated.' Are not the people in the
West Indies principally mulatto? And how is it in South America? Did
they not amalgamate there? Did not the Helots, a great many of whom
were Persians, etc., taken in battle, amalgamate with the Grecians, and
rise to equal privileges in the State? I ask for information. Please
tell me, also, whether slavery is not an infringement of the
Constitution of the United States. You Southerners have no idea of the
excitement existing at the North on the subjects of abolition and
colonization."
This shows only the dawning of interest in the mighty subject. The
evidence is full and conclusive that at this time neither Sarah nor
Angelina had formed any decided opinions concerning either of the
societies mentioned above, or contemplated taking any active part
whatever in the cause of freedom.
In February, 1834, occurred the famous debate at Lane Seminary, near
Cincinnati, presided over by Dr. Lyman Beecher, which, for earnestness,
ability, and eloquence, has probably never been surpassed in this
country. A colonization society, composed in great part of Southern
students, had been formed in 1832 in the seminary, but went to pieces
during the debate, which lasted eighteen evenings, and produced a
profound sensation throughout the Presbyterian Church, and even outside
of it. President Beecher took no part in it, standing too much in awe
of the trustees of the institution to countenance it even by his
presence, although he had promised to do so.
The speakers were all students, young men remarkable for their
sincerity and their energy, and several of them excelling as orators.
Among the latter were Henry B. Stanton and Theodore D. Weld, both
possessing great powers of reasoning and natural gifts of eloquence. Of
Theodore D. Weld it was said, that when he lectured on temperance, so
powerfully did he affect his audiences, that many a liquor dealer went
home and emptied out the contents of his barrels. Those who remember
him in his best days can well believe this, while others who have had
the privilege of hearing him only in his "parlor talks" can have no
difficulty in understanding the impression he must have made on mixed
audiences in those times when his great heart, filled from boyhood with
sorrow for the oppressed, found such food for its sympathies.[2]
[2] An incident of the childhood of this zealous champion of human
rights, related in a letter I have, shows how early he took his
stand by the side of the weak and defenceless. When he was about six
years old, and going to school in Connecticut, a little colored boy
was admitted as a pupil. Weld had never seen a black person before,
and was grieved to find that the color of his skin caused him to be
despised by the other boys, and put off on a seat by himself. The
teacher heard him his lessons separately, and generally sent him
back to his lonely seat with a cuff or a jeer. After witnessing this
injustice for a day or two, little Weld went to the teacher and
asked to have his own seat changed. "Why, where do you want to sit?"
asked the teacher. "By Jerry," replied Weld. The master burst out
laughing, and exclaimed: "Why, are you a nigger too?" and, "Theodore
Weld is a nigger!" resounded through the school. "I never shall
forget," says Mr. Weld, "the tumult in my little bosom that day. I
went, however, and sat with Jerry, and played with Jerry, and we
were great friends; and in a week I had permission to say my lessons
with Jerry, and I have been an abolitionist ever since, and never
had any prejudices to overcome."
It is no disparagement to the many able and eloquent advocates of the
anti-slavery cause, between 1833 and 1836, to say that public opinion
placed Weld at the head of them all. In him were combined reason and
imagination, wide and accurate knowledge, manly courage, a tender and
sympathetic nature, a remarkable faculty of expression, and a fervent
enthusiasm which made him the best platform orator of his time. As a
lecturer on education, temperance, and abolition, he drew crowded
houses and made many converts. The late Secretary Stanton was one of
these, and often mentioned Mr. Weld as the most eloquent speaker he had
ever heard; and Wendell Phillips, in a recent letter, says of him: "In
the first years of the anti-slavery cause, he was our foremost
advocate."
Of Henry B. Stanton, a newspaper reporter once said in excuse for not
reporting one of his great anti-slavery speeches, that he could not
attempt to report a whirlwind or a thunderstorm.
With such leaders, and with followers no less earnest if less
brilliant, it is not surprising that the Lane Seminary debate arrested
such general attention, and afterwards assumed so much importance in
the anti-slavery struggle. The trustees, fearing its effect upon their
Southern patrons, ordered that both societies should be dissolved, and
no more meetings held. The anti-slavery students replied to this order
by withdrawing in a body from the institution. Some went over to
Oberlin; others,--and among them the two I have named--entered the
field as lecturers and workers in the cause they had so ardently
espoused.
In September, 1834, Sarah and Angelina were gratified by a visit from
their brother Thomas, who was on his way to Cincinnati, to deliver an
address on Education before the College of Professional Teachers, and
also to visit his brother Frederic, residing in Columbus, whom he had
not seen for sixteen years. As Angelina had not seen him since her
departure from Charleston in 1829, the few days of his society she now
enjoyed were very precious, and made peculiarly so by after-events. The
cholera was then for the second time epidemic in the West, but those
who knew enough about it to be prudent felt no fear, and the sisters
bade farewell to their brother, cheered by his promise to see them
again on his way home. He delivered his address in Cincinnati, started
for Columbus, arrived within twelve miles of it, when, at a wayside
tavern, he was seized with cholera. His brother, then holding a term of
the Supreme Court, was sent for. He at once adjourned court and
hastened to Thomas with a physician. He was already speechless, but was
able to turn upon Frederic a look of recognition, then pressed his
hand, and died.
Angelina, writing of her brother's death, says: "The world has lost an
eminent reformer in the cause of Christian education, an eloquent
advocate of peace, and one who was remarkably ready for every good
work. I never saw a man who combined such brilliant talents, such
diversity and profundity of knowledge, with such humility of heart and
such simplicity and gentleness of manner. He was a great and good man,
a pillar of the church and state, and his memory is blessed."
In a letter written in 1837, referring to her brother's visit to
Philadelphia, Sarah says: "We often conversed on the subject of
slavery, and never did I hear from his lips an approval of it. He had
never examined the subject; he regarded it as a duty to do it, and he
intended devoting the powers of his mind to it the next year of his
life, and asked us to get ready for him all the abolition works worth
studying. But God took him away. My own views were dark and confused.
Had I had my present light, I might have helped him."
Angelina bore her testimony to the same effect. Referring to Thomas in
a letter to a member of her family many years after his death, she
says:
"He was deeply interested in _every_ reform, and saw very clearly that
the anti-slavery agitation which began in 1832 would shake our country
to its foundation. He told me in Philadelphia that he knew slavery
would be the all-absorbing subject here, and that he intended to devote
a whole year to its investigation; and, in order that he might do so
impartially, he requested me to subscribe for every periodical and
paper, and to buy and forward to him any books, that might be published
by the Anti-Slavery and Colonization societies. I asked whether he
believed colonization could abolish slavery. He said: 'No, never!' but
observed; 'I help that only on account of its reflex influence upon
slavery here. If we can build up an intelligent, industrious community
of colored people in Africa, it will do a great deal towards destroying
slavery in the United States.'"
The loss of her brother almost crushed Sarah, although she expresses
only submission to the Lord's will. It had the effect of closing her
heart and mind once more to everything but religion, and again she gave
herself fully and entirely to her evangelical preparation. She
expresses herself as longing to preach the everlasting Gospel, and
prays that she may soon be called to be a minister, and be instrumental
in turning her fellow sinners away from the wrath to come. Later, in
the early part of 1835, after having re-perused her brother's works,
she solemnly dedicated herself to the cause of peace, persuading
herself that Thomas had left it as a legacy to her and Angelina. She
resolved to use all her best endeavors to promote its advancement, and
daily prayed for a blessing on her exertions and for the success of the
cause. This at least served to divert her thoughts from herself, and no
doubt helped her to the belief which now came to her, that at last
Satan was conquered, and she was accepted of God.
If she could only have been comforted also with the knowledge that her
labors in the ministry were recognized, her satisfaction would have
been complete, but more than ever was she tormented by the slights and
sneers of the elders, and by her own conviction that she was a useless
vessel. There is scarcely a page of her diary that does not tell of
some humiliation, some disappointment connected with her services in
meeting.