she alludes to the exhausting effect of the meetings on her physical
system. Of Sarah, she says, writing to Jane Smith:--

"It is really delightful to see dear sister so happy in this work....
Some Friends come to hear us, but I do not know what they think of the
meetings--or of us. How little, how very little I supposed, when I used
so often to say 'I wish I were a man,' that I could go forth and
lecture, that I ever would do such a thing. The idea never crossed my
mind that as a woman such work could possibly be assigned to me."

To this letter there is a postscript from Sarah, in which she says:--

"I would not give up my abolition feelings for anything I know. They
are intertwined with my Christianity. They have given a new spring to
my existence, and shed over my whole being sweet and hallowed
enjoyments."

Angelina's next letter to her friend is dated, "2d Mo. 4th, 1837," and
continues the account of the meetings. She mentions that, at the last
one, they had one male auditor, who refused to go out when told he
must, so he was allowed to stay, and she says: "Somehow, I did not
feel, his presence embarrassing at all, and went on just as though he
had not been there. Some one said he took notes, and I think he was a
Southern spy, and shall not be at all surprised if he publishes us in
some Southern paper."

Truly it was a risky thing for a lord of creation to intrude himself
into a woman's meeting in those days!

Angelina goes on to remark that more Friends are attending their
meetings, and that if they were not opened with prayer, still more
would come. Also, that Friends had been very kind and attentive to them
in every way, and never said a discouraging word to them. She then
discourses a little on phrenology, at that time quite a new thing in
this country, and relates an anecdote of "Brother "Weld," as follows:--

"When he went to Fowler in this city, he disguised himself as an
omnibus driver. The phrenologist was so struck with the supposed fact
that an omnibus driver should have such an extraordinary head, that he
preserved an account of it, and did not know until some time after that
it was Weld's. He says that when he first had his head examined at
Utica, he was told he was deficient in the organ of color, his eyebrow
showing it. He immediately remembered that his mother often told him:
'Theodore, it is of no use to send you to match a skein of silk, for
you never bring the right color.' When relating