protested against going to sleep by rule; how he wouldn’t be bathed in cold water; how he was fed, a tablespoonful at a time, five times during the twenty-four hours,—­at 8, 12, 4, 8, and 3 in the morning; how his fretting at last induced his Aunt Sarah to take the responsibility of giving him a little license with his bottle, when, horrified at his gluttony, she was, at the same time, convinced that the child had been slowly starving ever since his birth.  Allowed more indulgence in food, he soon stopped fretting, and became a healthy, lively baby.

Angelina, writing to a friend, speaks of the blessed influence the child was exerting over them all.  “The idea,” she says, “of a baby exercising moral influence never came into my mind until I felt its power on my own heart.  I used to think all a parent’s reward for early care and anxiety was reaped in after-life, save the enjoyment of an infant as a pretty plaything.  But the Lord has taught me differently, and woe be unto me if I do not profit by the instructions of this little teacher sent from God.”

It was about this time that the injury referred to in the last chapter was received, which frustrated all Angelina’s hopes and plans for continued public service for the slave, and condemned her, with all her rare intellectual gifts, to a quiet life.  The sweet submission with which she bore this trial proved how great was the peace which possessed her soul, and kept her ready for whatever it seemed good for the Father to send her.  Henceforth, shut out from the praises and plaudits of men, in her own home, among her neighbors and among the poor and afflicted, quietly and unobtrusively she fulfilled every law of love and duty.  And though during the remainder of her life she was subject to frequent weakness and intense pain, all was borne with such fortitude and patience that only her husband and sister knew that she suffered.

In the latter part of February, 1840, Mr. Weld, having purchased a farm of fifty acres at Belleville, New Jersey, removed his family there.  Angelina, announcing the change to Jane Smith, says:—­

“Yes, we have left the sweet little village of Fort Lee, a spot never to be forgotten by me as the place where my Theodore and I first lived together, and the birthplace of my darling babe, the scene of my happiest days.  There, too, my precious sister ministered with untiring faithfulness to my wants when sick, and there, too, I welcomed thee for the first time under my roof.”

To their new home they brought the simplicity of living to which they had adhered in their old one, a simplicity which, with their more commodious house, enabled them to exercise the broad hospitality which they had been obliged to deny themselves in a measure at Fort Lee.  All the good deeds done under this sacred name of hospitality during their fourteen years’ residence at Belleville can never be known.  Few ever so diligently sought, or so cheerfully accepted, opportunities for the exercise of every good word and work.  Scarcely a day passed that they did not feel called upon to make some sacrifice of comfort or convenience for the comfort or convenience of others; and more than once the sacrifice involved the risk of health and life.  But in true humility and with an unwavering trust in God, they looked away from themselves and beyond ordinary considerations.