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 sore conflict began in her mind, and she could take no pleasure in anything.  Dr. Kolloch’s parting question to her, spoken in the most solemn tones, “Can you, then, dare to hesitate?” rang continually in her ears; and the next few days and nights were passed in a turmoil of various feelings, until, exhausted, she gave up the struggle, and acknowledged herself sensible of the emptiness of worldly gratifications, and thought she was willing to resign all for Christ.  She returned home sorrowful and heavy-hearted.  The glory of the world was stained, and she no longer dared to participate in its vain pleasures.  She felt “loaded down with iniquity,” and, almost sinking under a sense of her guilt and her danger, she secluded herself from society, and put away her ornaments, “determined to purchase Heaven at any price.”  But she found no relief in these sacrifices; and, after enduring much trial at her ill success, she wrote to Dr. Kolloch, informing him of her state of mind.