e was once among the
greatest."

In one of her letters, written soon after her return home, she thus
speaks of her Quaker dress:--

"I thought I should find it so trying to dress like a Quaker here; but
it has been made so easy that if it is a cross I do not feel the weight
of it.... It appears to me that at present I am to be little and
unknown, and that the most that is required of me is that I bear a
decided testimony against dress. I am literally as a wonder unto many,
but though I am as a gazing-stock--perhaps a laughing-stock--in the
midst of them, yet I scarcely feel it, so sensible am I of the presence
and approbation of Him for whose sake I count it a high privilege to
endure scorn and derision. I begin to feel that it is a solemn thing
even to dress like a Quaker, as by so doing I profess a belief in the
purest principles of the Bible, and warrant the expectation in others
that my life will exhibit to all around those principles drawn out in
living characters."

There is a pride of conscience in all this, strongly contrasting with
Sarah's want of self-confidence when travelling the same path. If
Angelina suffered for her religion, no one suspected it, and for this
very reason she was enabled to exert a stronger influence upon those
about her than Sarah ever could have done. She herself saw the great
points of difference between them, and frequently alluded to them. On
one page of her diary she writes:--

"I have been reading dear sister's diary the last two days, and find
she has suffered great conflict of mind, particularly about her call to
the ministry, and I am led to look at the contrast between our feelings
on the subject. I clearly saw winter before last that my having been
appointed to this work was the great reason why I was called out of the
Presbyterian Society, but I don't think my will has ever rebelled
against it.

"So far from murmuring against the appointment, I have felt exceedingly
impatient at not being permitted to enter upon my work at once; and
this is probably an evidence that I am not prepared for it. But it is
hard for me to _be_ and to _do_ nothing. My restless, ambitious temper,
so different from dear sister's, craves high duties and high
attainments, and I have at times thought that this ambition was a
motive to me to do my duty and submit my will. The hope of attaining to
great eminence in the divine life has often prompted me to give up in
little things, to bend to existing