ertain
combination of letters, or modulation of sounds, or arrangement of
seams and angles, are made the _sine qua non_ of religion and
principle, that moment religion and principle are hurled from their
vantage-ground and become _slaves_ instead of _rulers_. I cannot get
it out of my mind that these must be a fetter on the spirit that
clings to such stereotyped forms and ceremonies that rustle and
clatter the more because life and spirit and power do not inhabit
them. Think about it, dear sisters."

In Sarah's next letter to him she says:--

"Now first about the wardrobe. Thou art greatly mistaken in supposing
that I meant to quiz thee; no, not I, indeed. I wish from my heart
more of us who take the profession of Jesus on our lips were willing
to wear shag cloaks and linsey-woolsey garments. Now I may inform thee
that, notwithstanding my prim caps, etc., I am as economical as thou
art. I do many things in the way of dress to please my friends, but
perhaps their watchfulness is needful."

Dear Aunt Sarah! these last words will make many smile who remember
how scrupulously careful she was about spending more on her dress than
was absolutely necessary to cleanliness and health. Every dollar
beyond this she felt was taken from the poor or from some benevolent
enterprise. The watchfulness of her friends was indeed needful!

It appears from the above correspondence that both Sarah and Angelina
had become tinctured with the doctrines of "non-resistance," which,
within a few years, had gained some credit with a few "perfectionists"
and active reformers in and about Boston. They had been presented by
Lydia Maria Child, a genial writer, under the guise of the Scriptural
doctrine of love. This sentiment was held to be adequate to the
regulation of social and political life: by it, ruffians were to be
made to stand in awe of virtue; thieves, burglars, and murderers were
to be made ashamed of themselves, and turned into honest and amiable
citizens; children were to be governed without punishment; and the
world was to be made a paradise. Rev. Henry C. Wright, a man of some
ability, but tossed by every wind of doctrine, embraced the new
gospel. He applied its principles to public matters. From the
essential sinfulness of all forms of force, if used towards human
beings, he inferred that penal laws, prisons, sheriffs, and criminal
courts should be dispensed with; that governments, which, of
necessity, execute their decrees by for