s."
Her health was not good at the time of her conversion, and as early
as March the sentence of death was visible on her countenance. But
she clung to her school till May, and continued to attend the
meetings, even when it was necessary for some one to aid her in
reaching the chapel. The "Dairyman's Daughter" was a favorite book
with the girls of the school, and young disciples were sometimes
heard to say, as Sarah took her seat in the house of God, "Have we
not an Elizabeth Wallbridge among us?" She lingered till June, and
was often found with her open Bible and several women by her side,
whom she was leading to Christ. Her praying companions often had
meetings in her room. Her last words were, "Lord Jesus, receive----"
Here her voice ceased.1

1 _Life of Fidelia Fiske_, p. 173.

On the 13th of February, Deacon Isaac,--one of the Patriarch's
brothers, and to a considerable extent his representative in the
district, respected moreover among the people for his force of
character, as well as for his official station,--made Mr. Stoddard a
visit. His manner showed that he wished to converse on the subject
of religion, and Mr. Stoddard commenced by asking him, if he
rejoiced in what the Lord was doing for his people. He replied,
"None but Satan can help rejoicing. I do certainly rejoice. But I am
like a man that stands on the shore of a lake, and seeing a
beautiful country on the other side is gladdened by the prospect,
but has no means of reaching that country himself. Would that I were
a child, that I might repent too! But no, it cannot be. My heart is
ice. There is no such sinner among the people as I am. I do not
believe it is possible for me to be saved." He was reminded of the
freeness of Christ's love, and his willingness to receive the vilest
sinner that will come to him. After some hesitation, he admitted
that it was so. "But," said he, "the great obstacle is myself. My
heart is perfectly dead. You may cut and thrust me with a sword, but
I am insensible to the stroke. And if you kindly pour ointment on my
wounds, it is all the same. I choose sin. I love sin. The wild
beasts in the mountains are enticed by the hunters, and seize the
bait, not knowing what they do. But I take this world with my eyes
open, knowing that I am choosing destruction, and eating death. It
is a shame for me to remain in such a miserable condition, while
these boys are weeping over their sins, and I am ashamed. But such
is the fact, and I