he found a pack of cards
left by a young man on the table, and wrote on it the text beginning,
"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth," &c. Hearing that
the owner was very curious to know the perpetrator, she wrote down this
verse for him:

"And wouldst thou know what friend sincere
Reminds thee of thy day of doom?
Repress the wish, yet thou mayst hear
She shed for thee a pitying tear,
For thine are paths of gloom."

She also says that she had been for six weeks engaged, with the
assistance of a gentleman, in working out proofs of the immortality of
the soul, apart from those in Scripture. She had prayer-meetings for her
young friends in her own room, and distributed tracts in the town, while
still acting at home, as her mother's right hand, among her little
brothers and sisters.

But her vocation she felt to be for missionary life. At one time she
thought of joining a mission to the Red Indians, and her verses were full
of the subject. Her ode on Colman's death expressed the feeling of her
soul in the verse:

"The spirit of love from on high
The hearts of the righteous hath fired;
Lo! they come, and with transport they cry,
'We will go where our brother expired,
And labour and die.'"

The words fall sadly short of the feeling,--a very real one, but the ode
not only satisfied Sarah's critics and obtained circulation, but it fired
the heart of George Dana Boardman, a young student at Waterville College,
intended for the Baptist ministry; and he never rested till he had found
out the authoress, met her, and asked her to be his partner in "labouring
and dying," as Colman had done before them.

There was no illusion in her mind; she knew her task would be full of
toil and suffering; but her feeling was the desire to devote her whole
self to the work of the Redeemer, who had done so much for her. Mr. and
Mrs. Hall were at first reluctant, but after a time heartily consented,
and she was introduced to Mrs. Judson as a future companion in her toils.
With very questionable taste, some of her friends insisted on her reading
her own elegy on Colman, aloud, before a whole circle of friends that
they might see Mrs. Judson listen to it. Blushes and refusals were of no
avail; she was dragged out, and the paper thrust into her hand; she
began, faltering, but as she proceeded the strong purpose of her soul
inspired her, and she ended with firmness and enthus