There is no allusion in the diary or letters of either of the sisters, in 1829 or 1830, to the many stirring events of the anti-slavery movement which occurred after the final abolition of slavery in New York, in 1827, and which foreshadowed the earnest struggle for political supremacy between the slave power and the free spirit of the nation.  The daily records of their lives and thoughts exhibit them in the enjoyment of their quiet home with Catherine Morris, visiting prisons, hospitals, and alms-houses, and mourning over no sorrow or sins but their own.  Angelina was leading a life of benevolent effort, too busy to admit of the pleasures of society, and her Quaker associations did not favor contact with the world’s people, or promote knowledge of the active movements in the larger reforms of the day.  As to Sarah, she was still suffering keenly under the great sorrow of her life.

At this time, Angelina was a most attractive young woman.  Tall and graceful, with a shapely head covered with chestnut ringlets, a delicate complexion and features, and clear blue eyes, which could dance with merriment or flash with indignation, and withal a dignified, yet gentle and courteous bearing, it is not surprising that she should have had many admirers of the opposite sex, even in the limited society to which she was confined.  Nor can we wonder that, with a heart so susceptible to all the finer emotions, she should have preferred the companionship of one to that of all others.  But though for more than two years this friendship—­for it never became an engagement—­absorbed all her thoughts, to the exclusion even of her studies, I must conclude from the plain evidence in the case that it was only a warm friendship, at least on her side, not the strong, enduring love, based upon entire sympathy, which afterwards blessed her life.  It owed its origin to her admiration for intellectuality in men, and its continuance to her womanly pity; for the object of her preference suffered much from ill-health, which at last gave way altogether in the latter part of 1832, when he died.

To the various emotions naturally aroused during this long experience, and to the depression of spirits which followed the final issue, we may perhaps partially ascribe Angelina’s indifference to the excited state of feeling throughout the country on the subject of that institution which “owned no law but human will.”

In November, 1831, Sarah Grimke once more, and for the last time, visited Charleston.

In December, the slave insurrection in Jamaica—­tenfold more destructive to life and property than the insurrection of Nat Turner, in Virginia, of the preceding August—­startled the world; but even this is scarcely referred to in the correspondence between the two sisters.  But that Angelina, at least, was interested in matters outside of her religion, we gather from a postscript to one of her letters.  “Tell me,” she says, “something about politics.”