e time after, she says: "I would have
liked thee to join thy name to mine in my Appeal, but thought it
would probably bring out so much opposition and violence, that I
preferred bearing it all myself."

While Angelina was thus busily employed, and buoyed up by the hope of
benefiting those whose wrongs she had all her life felt so deeply,
Sarah was reaching towards her, and in trying to be indulgent to her
and just to her Society at the same time, she was awakening to her own
false position and to some of the awful mistakes of her religious life.
Through the summer, such passages as the following appear in her diary:
--

"The approach of our Yearly Meeting was almost overwhelming. I felt as
if I could be thankful even for sickness, for almost anything so I
might have escaped attending it. But my dear Saviour opened no door,
and after a season of unusual conflict I was favored with resignation.

"Oh! the cruel treatment I have undergone from those in authority. I
could not have believed it had I not been called to endure it. But the
Lord permits it. My part is not to judge how far they have been moving
under divine direction, but to receive humbly and thankfully through
them the lessons of meekness, lowliness, faith, patience, and love, and
I trust I may be thankful for the opportunity thus afforded to love my
enemies and to pray for them, and perhaps it is to prepare me to feel
for others, that I have been thus tried and afflicted."

That she was thus prepared was evidenced through all the varied
experiences of her after-life, for certainly no more sympathetic soul
ever dwelt in a mortal frame, and more generously diffused its warmth
and tenderness upon all who came within its radius.

After the next First Day meeting, she writes:--

"The suffering in my own meeting is so intense that I think nothing
short of a settled conviction that obedience and eternal life are
closely connected could enable me to open my lips there."

Two weeks later, an almost prophetic sentence is written.

"Truly discouragement does so prevail that it would be no surprise to
me if Friends requested me to be silent. Hitherto, I have been spared
this trial, but if it comes, O Holy Father, may my own will be so slain
that I may bow in reverent adoring submission."

Notwithstanding all this distress, however, Sarah might still have
lingered on some time longer, stifling in the dry dust of the Quaker
Church, and refusing to partake of