It was very pleasant to see the affection manifested by her brothers towards their little sick sister, and she repaid their kindness by anxiously entreating them to care for their souls.  To her father she said, “I want you to promise me one thing—­to meet me in heaven.  O father! do love Jesus.  I love him, indeed I do; but I want you to love him too.  There is only one Jesus, one Saviour; and, father, he is so holy.”  Then turning to her mother, who was standing by her bed, she added, “You do love Jesus, but, O mother, pray do love him more, and more, and more;” she spoke with such energy, as if to impress her parents with her own feeling, as almost startled them.

In this state of mind Sarah drew near the end of her pilgrimage, and it was not until about three days before her death that even the shadow of a cloud seemed to darken her path.  Then, for the first time, her mind was agitated with doubts as to her Saviour’s love for her, and very distressing to those around her were her anxious cries for pardon.  “Father, forgive me, for Jesus Christ’s sake,” was her constant petition.  She was visited by a minister and by several Christian friends, who used every effort to give her relief, but for some time all in vain; she seemed unable to lay hold on any promise for her comfort.  One of these friends especially felt a deep interest in the dear child, though she had not known her until now.  Of her little Sarah asked most earnestly, “Do you think that Jesus loves me?” She was assured that he did.  “Do you know he loves me?” she asked; and then followed the solemn inquiry, “How do you know it?” After reading and talking with her for some time, she begged her friend would “pray with her to make her a little happy?” and afterwards in her own words, she would again plead with God, “Father, forgive me, for Jesus Christ’s sake, and wash me in his blood, and make me a good girl, and take me to heaven.”  On one occasion she said, “I wish I could be a little happy,—­I want something, I do not know what I want.”  She was answered, “I think I can tell you what you want, it is peace, it is to feel that God has pardoned all your sins.”  “Yes,” she replied, “I think that is it.”

At another time, when talking of the joys of heaven, “Yes,” she said, “they are singing, Glory, glory, glory,” referring to her favorite hymn, beginning,

  “Around the throne of God in heaven,
   Thousands of children stand.”

But, as her friend says, it is not possible to convey her manner, her sweet tone and look.  She said, “I wish I could go to heaven now, up through this ceiling, now while I feel a little happy.”  “But, my dear child, you cannot go to heaven in this way.  You must die first; Jesus died; we must all die; it is God’s appointed way for us to get to heaven.”  “Oh!  I do not mind my sufferings, but I wish I was there now.”

Once she spoke rather impatiently, “I wish I could die, I wish I could die.”  She was reminded, “Jesus says, ’If you love me, keep my commandments;’ and though you cannot obey God’s will now in the same way as if in health, you can still suffer all he appoints.”  She quickly asked, “Will Jesus be angry if I am not patient?  I will try, then, and pray to him to make me patient.”