[p. 23] woman, the last of her race, dead because a ‘lover of rum,’ with the same graces and gifts in exercise, as to the wealthy and beloved of his parish. After one reads Mr. Brooks' closing words referred to, this thought recurs:—
Lo! the poor Indian whose untutored mindDoubtless the Great Spirit hovered over the lonely hut in Turkey swamp, caring for her whose ‘kind heart’ had ample opportunity to there behold Him in the clouds and the tempests that raged over these rocky wilds. Mr. Brooks was twenty-five years old in 1820, and just entering his work as a Christian minister. Doubtless he was absent from Medford when this native American, over four score years old, whom he had known in his boyhood as a faithful friend, perished in the cold waters of the Aberjona, or he might have written thereabout in 1854.
Sees God in the cloud and hears him in the wind.
M. W. M.