It was very soon after her first doubts concerning her worthiness to accept the happiness offered to her that she determined to go to Charleston and put her feelings to the test of absence and unbiased reflection.  The entry in her diary of November 22d is as follows:—­

“Landed this morning in Charleston, and was welcomed by my dear mother with tears of pleasure and tenderness, as she folded me once more to her bosom.  My dear sisters, too, greeted me with all the warmth of affection.  It is a blessing to find them all seriously disposed, and my precious Angelina one of the Master’s chosen vessels.  What a mercy!”

CHAPTER IV.

The strong contrast between Sarah and Angelina Grimke was shown not only in their religious feelings, but in their manner of treating the ordinary concerns of life, and in carrying out their convictions of duty.  In her humility, and in her strong reliance on the “inner light,” Sarah refused to trust her own judgment, even in the merest trifles, such as the lending of a book to a friend, postponing the writing of a letter, or sweeping a room to-day, when it might be better to defer it until to-morrow.  She says of this:  “Perhaps to some who have been led by higher ways than I have been into a knowledge of the truth, it may appear foolish to think of seeking direction in little things, but my mind has for a long time been in a state in which I have often felt a fear how I came in or went out, and I have found it a precious thing to stop and consult the mind of truth, and be governed thereby.”

The following incident, one out of many, will illustrate the sincerity of her conviction on this point.

“In this frame of mind I went to meeting, and it being a rainy day I took a large, handsome umbrella, which I had accepted from brother Henry, accepted doubtfully, therefore wrongfully, and have never felt quite easy to use it, which, however, I have done a few times.  After I was in meeting, I was much tried with a wandering mind, and every now and then the umbrella would come before me, so that I sat trying to wait on my God, and he showed me that I must not only give up this little thing, but return it to brother.  Glad to purchase peace, I yielded; then the reasoner said I could put it away and not use it, but this language was spoken:  ’I have shown thee what was required of thee.’  It seemed to me that a little light came through a narrow passage, when my will was subdued.  Now this is a marvellous thing to me, as marvellous as the dealings of the Lord with me in what may appear great things.”

In a note she adds:  “This little sacrifice was made.  I sent the umbrella with an affectionate note to brother, and believe it gave him no offence to have it returned.  And sweet has been the recompense—­even peace.”

Whenever she acted from her own impulses, she was very clever in finding out some disappointment or mistake, which she could claim as a punishment for her self-will.