come being the interest on $10,000, the sum left by Judge Grimke to
each of his children. The estate had not yet been settled up. Add to
all this the virtue of hospitality, inculcated by the Quaker doctrine,
and it seems perfectly natural that Sarah should accept the offer of
her friend in the spirit in which it was made, and feel grateful to her
Heavenly Father that such a refuge was provided for her.

The notes in her journal for that summer are rather meagre. She
attended meeting regularly, but made no formal application to be
received into the Society of Friends. It would hardly have been
considered so soon; she must first go through a season of probation.
How hard this was is told in the lamentations and prayers which she
confided to her diary. The "fearful act of disobedience" of which she
was guilty in Charleston lay as a heavy load on her spirit, troubling
her thoughts by day and her dreams by night, until she says: "At times
I am almost led to believe I shall never know good any more."

Notwithstanding these trying spiritual exercises, the summer seems to
have passed in more peace than she had dared to hope for. Israel Morris
was a truly good man, with a strong, genial nature, which must have had
a soothing effect upon Sarah's troubled spirit. But before many months
her thoughts began to turn back to home. Her mother's want of
spirituality, from her standpoint, grieved her greatly. The accounts
she received of the disorder in the family added to her anxieties, and
she felt that her influence was needed to bring about harmony, and to
guide her mother on the road to Zion. She laid the case before the
Lord, and, receiving no intimation that she would be doing a wrong
thing, she decided to return to Charleston.

Before leaving Philadelphia, however, she felt that it was her duty to
assume the full Quaker dress. She had worn plain colors from the time
she began to attend meeting in her native city, but the clothes were
not fashioned after the Quaker style, and she still indulged herself in
occasionally wearing a becoming black dress; though when she did so,
she not only felt uncomfortable herself, but knew that she made many of
her friends so. "Persisting in so doing," she says, "I have since been
made sensible, manifested a want of condescension entirely unbecoming a
Christian, and one day conviction was so strong on this subject, that,
as I was dressing, I felt as if I could not proceed, but sat down with
my dre