frequently interrupted, continues to record her religious sorrows, for
these followed her even into the peaceful home at "Greenhill Farm," the
name of Israel Morris's place, where she was received and treated like
a near and dear relative; and it was but natural and proper that she
should be so accepted by the members of Mr. Morris's family. He was
literally her only friend at the North. Through his influence she had
been brought into the Quaker religion, and encouraged to leave her
mother and native land. She was entirely unpractised in the ways of the
world, and was besides in very narrow circumstances, her only available
income being the interest on $10,000, the sum left by Judge Grimké 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