that love of admiration which carries many a high and noble soul down
the stream of folly to the whirlpool of an unhallowed marriage, I had
rushed into this lifelong misery. Happily for me, this butterfly life
did not last long. My ardent nature had another channel opened for it,
through which it rushed with its usual impetuosity. I was converted,
and turned over to doing good."

Up to this time she was a communicant in the Episcopal church, and a
regular attendant on its various services. But, as she records, her
heart was never touched, her soul never stirred. She heard the same
things preached week after week,--the necessity of coming to Christ and
the danger of delay,--and she wondered at her insensibility. She joined
in family worship, and was scrupulously exact in her private devotions;
but all was done mechanically, from habit, and no quickening sense of
her "awful condition" came to her until she went one night, on the
invitation of a friend, to hear a Presbyterian minister, the Rev. Henry
Kolloch, celebrated for his eloquence. He preached a thrilling sermon,
and Sarah was deeply moved. But the impression soon wore off, and she
returned to her gay life with renewed ardor. A year after, the same
minister revisited Charleston; and again she went to hear him, and
again felt the "arrows of conscience," and again disregarded the solemn
warning. The journal continues:--

"After this he came no more; and in the winter of 1813-14 I was led in
an unusual degree into scenes of dissipation and frivolity. It seemed
as if my cup of worldly pleasure was filled to the brim; and after
enjoying all the city afforded, I went into the country in the spring
with a fashionable acquaintance, designing to finish my wild career
there."

While on this visit, she accidentally met the Rev. Dr. Kolloch, and
became acquainted with him. He seems to have taken a warm interest in
her spiritual welfare, and his conversations made a serious impression
on her which her gay friends tried to remove. But her sensitive spirit
was so affected by his admonitions, and warnings of the awful
consequences of persisting in a course of conduct which must eventually
lead to everlasting punishment, that she was made very miserable. She
trembled as he portrayed her doom, and wept bitterly; but, though she
assented to the truth of his declarations, she did not feel quite
prepared to give up the pomps and vanities of her life, unsatisfactory
as they were. A so