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Full text of "A Memorial of Sa-Sa-Na, the Mohawk maiden [microform] : who perished in the rail road disaster at Deposit, N.Y., February 18, 1852 : containing I. Obituary notice by Hon. C.P. Avery, II. Sermon preached in St. Thomas' Church, Hamilton, Feb. 29, 1852, by S.H. Norton, rector, III. Poem by W.H.C. Hosmer, Esq"

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Who perished in the Rail Road dieaster at Deposit, N. Y., 
February, 18, 1852, 


I. Obituary Notice by Hon. C. P. Avery. 
II. Sermon preached in St. Thomas' Church, Hamil- 
ton, Feb. 29, 1852, by S. H. Norton, Rector. 
III. Poem by W. H. C. Hosmer, Esq. 

»■•♦- — ^•---v.,*.,-.^-vy\,*t 











— 'Ss*»t^M»*^V»'%— 

. ! 


^^P^fJrP' 'r' 




\y-\ ^^yA„^N/-\^>.^>..'*\ >■%-/"• .^'N^'x-.'^ /N-^'N.y 

t^yxW^N xxy^ •%.>'> /'X-^'v ^ 

" They heard the story of the Crow 
Beneath the evening torches' flare, 

And of their people'8 grief and loss, 
And all the sad reproach they bear — 

Their moumAiI people, and the Cross, 

The pains and perils of the Cross, 
They gave themselves to serve, and share." 

M. H. p. 



•"V.,^ ^-\^\,^/\/\r^/-K/-'\y\- v/'N/^/v.-v/N.-'N /"N/^-vy-N r^/x<'-\/-\/'k> > 

mmiL OF nwiL 



"It is the spot I came to seek, 

My fathers* ancient burial-place, 
Ere fi-om these vales, ashamed and weak, 
Withdrew our wasted race. 

It is the spot — I know it well. 
Of which our old traditions tell." 


There comes a time when the Morn shall rise. 

Yet charm no smile to thy filmed eyes. 

There comes a time when thou liest low. 

With the roses dead on thy frozen brow. 

With a pall hung over thy tranced vest. 

And the pulse asleep in thy silent breast. 

There shall come a dirge through the valleys drenr, 

And a white-robed priest to thine icy bier." 


"Woe is me when I watch and pray. 
For the lightest sound ' f thy coming foot. 

For the softest note of thy summer lay, 
For the faintest chord of thy vine-strung lute ! 

Woe is me when the storms sweep by 

And the mocking winds are my sole reply." 

— [Edith May. 

The announcement of the appalling tragedy upon the New 
Y«rfc and Erie Railroad, at Deposit, on Wednesday of last 
week, following so soon the fearful aceident near Equinunk, 
fell solemnly upon the ears of all. 

When it was known that one of the Mohawk sisters, Miss 
Sa-sa-na Loft, the elder of the two, who with their worthy 

♦First published in the Owcgo Gazette, of Feb. 26th. 







A M K M O R I A L 

l)rothor, had so recently visited our place, on their benevolent 
mission, had been stricken down in the dawn of her usefulness, 
a feeling of sorrow, too intense for utterance, sunk to the heart, 
saddening every fireside circle where her unobtrusive merit, 
and the desolate condition of the survivors had become known. 

On Tuesday evening, the 17th, they had given one of their 
interesting Concerts at Deposit, and on the following day, upon 
the arrival of the mail train at that station, from the West, the 
two sisters took seats in the rear car, while the brother went 
to the offce for the purpose of procuring tickets for his party. 
That being the usual dining station, the larger part of the pas- 
sengers were at the table, which will account for tho loss of 
but three lives, although the rear oar was almost entirely to^n 
in pieces. The alarm was given by some one who saw the 
freight train, which had been passed by the passenger train, 
eight miles back, at "The Summit," dashing forward under 
the fearful momentum gained by having become unmanageable 
on the downward grade — some portion of it being more than 
sixty feet to the mile. Having rashly lost control of his train, 
the engineer, finding the collision inevitable, in dismay aban- 
doned his post — leaving the train to its wild fury. Upon the 
alarm being given of its approach, the two sisters made an ef- 
fort to escape ; both reached the platform of the station, but 
by some mysterious providence, the elder sister fell back upon 
the doomed car, which was then crumbling under the iron 
blows of the uncurbed engine. Her death was instantaneous. 

Saving ourselves from a contemplation of the other incidents 
of this mournful mid-day tragedy, let us here draw a veil be- 
fore the dreadful scene. 

Full of sadness indeed, arc all the facts of this most distress- 
ing occurrence ; but there are circumstances of a peculiarly 
sorrowful character, which enshroud the tomb of the Mohawk 
maiden with more than the ordinary gloom of the grave. 






» /*». ..f \ / /■■».'• ''\i^/\./%/\/ \./ \ / ■ / \j\y\/\,'*. / Kys ' * ^\ t ,x\/% 

Oliild of an unfortunati! raco, lior life had bccu spent from 
early youth, in an unremitted vffori to acquire a knowl"Igo of 
the Jilngli^h language and its literature, for the purpose of en- 
abling her, in conjunction witli her brother and sixterH, to dif- 
fuse civilization and the principles <»f our Christian faith, among 
the people of their nation in Canada. 

The Reservation whore the family reside, i« known an The 
Mohawk Woods, townshi)) of Thayendanegea, on the Salmon 
river, which empties into the bay of Quinte, extending along 
both sides of that river, twelve miles in length, and eight in 
width. Although there are many of the Mohawk nation to be 
found on the other Reservations in Canada, on this one are 
found exclusively Mohawks- of unmixed blood, direct descend- 
ants of those who under the influence of the Great Thaven- 
DANEOEA, (Brant,) left the valley of the Mohawk river, soon 
after the breaking out (jf the revolutionary war. At that time 
the mother of this unfortunate girl left Canajoharie, the place 
of her birth, in company with the rest of her tribe, and has 
since then lived in Canada, and reared a family ; at all times 
expressing a most ardent wish for the civilization and Christian 
education of her children. The Indian name of the mother, is 
the same as that of the youngest daughter — Ya-go-we-j» . At 
the time of the last departure of her three children from home, 
they left their aged, and now more than widowed mother, in 
the care of an elder married sister. 

In the efforts of the deceased to acquire an education, she 
was guided by the encouraging example of her brother and the 
elder sister. The school which those two attended having been 
at a distance of eight mile.»* from their home, it was only by 
daily and constant exertion, fatigue and exposure of health, 
that they acquired a knowledge sufficient for them to direct 
their next younger sister, Sa-.sana, successfully, in her ear- 
nest efforts to comprehend the abstruse elementary principles 

i ^STBW W 


^-' \ '-v/'\-rN/-v*"vy-> 

' v^ v^^vv^ > 

/N^xyxy w ^^■s^\^yy^.r\^ v/ 'wx. 


of our language. At he time of the lost visit of the unfor- 
tunate girl to our place, she had profited by this fraternal and 
sisterly guidance, and oth^r important aids, so far as to be 
able to compose in our language, both in prose and poetry, 
gracefully and well. 

In this connection, there should not be omitted a commenda- 
tory notice of the great assistance which both she and her elder 
sister received, at the hands of Mrs. Givens, the estimable 
wife of the Episcopal clergyman, formerly of Kingston, Cana- 
da, who was at one time a resident Pastor upon the Reserve. 
In his family, at intervals, the two spent several months, en- 
joying the excellent intelIectuaJ[ and moral training of that 
devoted lady. 

Having thus advanced herself by the aid of her elder sister 
and brother, and by the kind atitntions of Mri. Givens, in 
those branches most essential to her usefulness, she in turn, 
became the principal instructress of her younger sister, Ya* 
oo-wE-A, who was ,7ith her in their last visit among us, and 
from whose side, she was torn so suddenly — so painfully. 

By the joint efforts of the brother and sisters, they had 
caused to be printed, more than four thousand copies of a sim- 
ple elementary Book, prepared by themselves, in the Mohawk 
language. Within the last two years, these have been industri- 
ously distributed among their people, with encouraging results. 
The object of their late Oonccrts, was to put themselves in 
possession of a fund sufficient to secure the printing of a greater 
number of books — for the making a more vigorous and extend- 
ed effi>rt in the good work to which they had consecrated their 
energies, and m the prosecution of which, one of this devoted 
band has now offered up her life — self-saorificed — a pure 

It may be interesting to those whose hands this oommnnioa- 
tion may reach, to know that the translations made many years 




■inoo, by the renowned Mohawk Chieftain, Joseph Brant, 
(Tiiayendanboea) have been of great servioo in evangelizing 
this family, if noi; the originating cause. It will bo recolleoted 
that he was the war-ohief of the Six Nations, and that his 
name, during our revolutionary strife, Hprond terror through- 
out our frontier settlements, on the Susquehanna, Delaware, 
and Mohawk. At his home on the Reservation, soon after his 
settlement in Canada, he having become a sincere and penitent 
believer, although his sins had been ''as scarlet,'* turned his 
attention to the religious improvement of his people. For that 
purpose, he translated into his native tongue the gospels of St. 
Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the Book of Genesis, nnd also the 
Prayer-Book of the Episcopal Church. These fell into the 
hands of the family, whose sad bereavement we are now con- 
tudering. The illustrations^ioh the translations contained, by 
simple and imperfect pictures of our Saviour's suffering, 
awakened inquiry, and it became the parent of a fixed determi- 
nation to know more. The result has been the diffusion of 
intellectual, moral and reli^ous light, where darkness only 
reigned before. 

Another interesting fact may be also appropriately stated in 
this place. So great has been the zeal of this and other con- 
verted &milies upon the Reservation, that a handsome Church 
has been erected there, at a cost of $9,000. To ocure the 
funds to meet so heavy a liability, no personal sacrifice has 
been too great for them — no exertion too discouraging. It 
stands on the northerly bank of the river, upon which the 
Reserve is situated, a monument of the zeal and active faith 
with which they adore the Great Spirit, Ho-wen-nee-yu, 
whom we call, with like reverence, the Supreme Ruler of the 

The surviving brother and sister felt deeply the kindness of 
our citizens, as evinced by their sympathizing attendance 

Hi B 


at their cister's funeral. They also appreciated the kind 
services of those ladies of our village, who assisted so ma- 
terially in the painful duties of the earlier part of the day. 

After the impressive and appropriate ceremonies at the 
Church and the grave, had been concluded, their grateful feel- 
ings found expression in a single sentence of the brother, "one 
half the load is lifted from our hearts." They found such 
universal sympathy — so much of kind intention on the part 
of every one, that the dark cloud of sorrow which seemed at 
first to have enveloped them hopelessly, was relieved of much 
of its gloom. 

Sa-sa-na Loft — a youthful ;Btranger — who had seen but 
twenty-one summers — of a different race from the present occu- 
pants of the soil — a timid alien }fjfon the domain or her ances- 
tors, over which for more than two centuries, they had exer- 
cised a Roman prowess and control — ^in the sight of the beau- 
tiful river, christened by her forefathers, the Goo-kwa-oo 
branch of the Delaware— died — cruelly died by the white man's 

An accomplished, gifted, and noble-hearted lady has fallen, 
in the midst of her great work — ^prostrate upon the altar — a 
precious sacrifice. 

"Hark ! in the holy grove of palms, 

Where the stream of life runs free, 
Echoes, in the Angels' psalms, ;tr . m- 

Sister Spirit ! Hail to thee !" 

...„,, I . . . / 







A time to weep — a time to mourn. — [Eccles. Ill : 4. 

These words have plaoa among the aphorisms put forth by 
the preaoher-king of Israel, under the general proposition, 
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every pur- 
pose under the heaven." The whole discourse owes its ut- 
terance to the ripe experience of old age, directed and con- 
trolled by the Spirit of inspiration. Its deckrations arc not to 
be taken as mere truisms — ^ word of God deals not in such 
— ^but as containing a seed of Divine truth, needful to be sown 
in the hearts of men, unto spiritual and heavenly wisdom. 
This appears, indeed, from their connection in the sacred 
preacher's discourse ; for they lead very directly with him, to 
the consideration of the glorious works, the gifts, the sove- 
reignty, the eternity, the mysterious Providence, and the right- 
eous judgments of God. They must be regarded, therefore, 
as expressive of general laws of this life, according to the Di- 
vine ordinance, and, at the same time, indicative of human 
necessity, duty and wisdom. 

These three things arc clearly involved in the propositions 
of our text. For tears and mourning are, in their season, and 
for their causes, of the necessity of our common nature. The 
ties of kindred, of friendship, of brotherhood in the faith, nay, 
of common humanity — that wide brotherhood in which we all 
meet — ^make tears and mourning our duti/j as well as our neces- 
sity. And that they arc tha part of wisdom^ too, we may 
fitly own, in the words of the inspired author of the Book of 



f' ( 






Ecclesiastcs, in another place : "It is better," says he, "to 
go t.0 the house of moar.iing, than to go to the house of feast- 
ing ; for that is the end of all' men, and the living will lay it 
to his heart. Sorrow is better Hian laughter, for by the sad- 
ness of the countenance, the heart is made better." And again, 
"The heart of the wise is in the the house of mourning."* 

I do not purpose now to enter upon the exposition of thes3 
several truths, but suggesting them only, as demanding our 
solemn acknowledgment in the fear of God, at all times, and 
especially at this present,— >let mci turn with you to the contem- 
plation of the melancholy event which has prompted the pres- 
ent discourse. My office will appropriately be, to give expres- 
sion — so far as I may be able— to our common sorrow over a 
departed young sister, stricken down in the bloom of youth, in 
the flush of joyous hopes, and at the entrance upon a career of 
distinguished usefulness, — our mourning sympathy with her 
bereaved relatives, — and our religious sense of so afflictive a 
visitation of God's All-wise Providence. Your hearts, breth- 
ren and friends, bear witness that it is for tM, with many others, 
"A time to weep — ^a time to mourn." You will be beforehand 
with me, in the thoughts which call for utterance on this occa- 
sion, and in the unaffected sympathy which would gladly min- 
gle sorrow and tears with those, who under ciroumstanoei so 
fearful and distresuag have been visited with afflicdon. 

Two months ago, a little company of Indian singers — ^b/other 
and two sisters, from the Mohawk Woods, G. W.— came among 
us, in their way through the coimtry giving Concerts. Their 
appearance was marked by great simplicity and modesty. In 
their public performances, they sought no aid— as they readily 
might, if they had chosen — from fantastic displays of the garb 
and the customs of their wild forefathers. They made no high 

•Ecd. VII 2-4. 

I . 



pretensions to musical accomplishments. But they endeavored 
to please their audiences by a variety of simple songs and sa- 
cred melodies, and trusted to the presentation of the objed for 
which they had left their distaiit and retired home, to commend 
their efforts to our people. This object was the benefit of oth- 
ers, who greatly needed their help, and ours. They wished to 
procure religious and other useful books, for their people at 
home, and for the native tribes still bqyond them, in the wilds 
of Canada. Such a work could not fail to enlist a general feel- 
ing of interest, and to secure for them, if it had needed, a gen- 
erous allowance for any deficiencies in the Concert-Room. But 
it did not need. They succeeded far beyond their professions 
of ability, in delighting the crowds who listened to their musio. 
There was a sweet breathing ' of native melody throughout it 
all, that brought thoughts of Nature's own waving woods. 
There were some warbled strains (hushed now, till they wake 
again in the angel choir,) that were free and clear and inspir- 
ing, as the song of the oriole. ., 

But still farther were these interesting strangers commended 
to us. Their life and conversation while among us, were such 
as not only to draw out approbation and interest, but also a 
deep and affectionate regard. I may speak for many others as 
well 88 for myself in saying, that never, in so short a time, and 
with so transient opportunity of acquaintance, was a more cor- 
dial esteem and love awakened, than toward this little family 
band. A Missionary band they might with propriety be term- 
ed ; for however the nove% and interest of travel, and the 
opportunities of cultivated society, thus opened to them, may 
have served in a degree to prompt their zeal, and to sustain it, 
the object set before them in their enterprise, appears to have 
been earnestly, constantly and disinterestedly pursued. Indeed, 
the advantages they derived from society throughout our coun- 
try, were designed, no less than their pecuniary profits, to be 


. . m>mi^etaf3f»»iHMti,nutmmwmfA 





turned to account for the benefit of th^ir own less favored na- 
tion. Thut sincere religious principle was a controlling motive 
in their whole life and pursuits^ none could doubt who had the 
opportunity of discourse with them, in the social and family 

A peculiar interest could not but be felt in these visitors by 
those of our own household of faith, from the fact that they were 
all members of our Communion- in the Church in Canada, and 
that on the sacred festival of Christmas, they participated with 
us in public worship and in the Holy Communion, — finding in 
our house of prayer, the same wredthed evergreen upon the wall, 
and the same familiar services and customs so dear to them at 
Christmas-tide in their own church in the Mohawk Woods. It 
was the hearty ejaculation of one of them, as they entered the 
church on Christmas morning, "We are at home now !" — 
It was a glad thing for us, thus to have these children of the 
forest with us, to share the hallowed joys of this ever dear fes- 
tival, in the Courts and at the Table of our common Lord. It 
was something to call forth anew devout thanksgivings for the 
wide-reaching mercies of the Gospel, and to stimulate the 
missionary spirit, — the essential spirit of Christianity. But 
not to us was interest in this company confined. They found 
it in the whole community. Tkey found it especially, and 
with the most kindly and cordial manifestations, among 
Christian friends of other communions. The same was true, 
not only of their experience in our town, but throughout their 
extended circuit of travel. I kno»that they deeply appreciated 
all this, and were delighted and thankful. 

After a few days sojourn among us, they went on their way, 
carrying with them the respect and well wishes of all— the 
hearty God-speed and fervent blessing of some. Two of this 
littie band may be expected to read the words I am now ad- 
dressing to you. Let me not speak more particularly of them. 


■f^.y-y^ \y\^ \y^y'\y~\y 




Of the third I freely may, for no words of mine, can now reach I [ 
her ear, to wound with praises, the sensitiveness of modesty 
and humility. ,. 

Sa-sa-na was one to attract attention and a peculiar interest, I 
in any society. Every movement and every word were char- : 
acteristic of the Indian maiden ; — her conversation full of vi- 
vacity, imaginative, and at the same time, discriminating, shew- 
ed her to be one of no common mind. She had had considerable 
advantages of education. Doubtless her opportunities, through 
society and travel, had served in addition, to give a rapid de- 
volopoment to her mental powers ; but these must have been 
naturally strong and brilliant. There was a rich vein of poetry, 
too, in her thoughts, and language, which added to the charm of 
her discourse. These peculiarities of mind, prompting alike to 
the eager acquisition of information, and to the impulsive expres- 
sion of her own vivid thoiights, led her to throw off very much 
of the reserve of the Indian girl. But this reserve gave place 
to a freedom, at once modest and graceful, which won the 
hearts of all around her, both old and young. And Sa-sa-na 
was a Christian maiden. So far as we might judge and well 
believe, hers was a simple, genuine, unostentatious piety, — the 
piety of one who as a "membfpof Christ, a child of God, and 
an heir, through faith, of His everlasting Kingdom," could, in 
the light of such a relationship, look forth upon life and upon 
Nature ; and, in consistency wkh the penitence and humility 
of the Christian walk, be ohatrful and joyous in the spring- 
time of being. The piety of youth — how lovely is it always, 
and V^w blessed are its fruits ! Oh, that the young might un- 
derstand^ that pleasures do not vanish by being chastened, nor 
joy diminish by being sanctified ! Still more — that they might 
le;;m, that out of humble penitence alone, can be the spring of 
real and enduring joys ! 

Let me not attempt, with too much minuteness to sketch 






<'\^'^^y\^ •<y\ 

the character of this interesting Mohawk maiden. The por- 
traiture must necessarily be incomplete, and but too imperfect. 
I will only add, as exemplifying her kindr is of heart, and her 
affectionate sympathy with the afflicted, that a touching account 
was given mo a few days since, of her devoted attentions to one 
of the young ladies of the company of Blind Vocalists, whose 
acquaintance was made, during a stay in one of the vilbges be- 
low us, in the Chenango valley. 

What follows in this brief recital, the heart shrinks from the 
thought of, and the lip trembles to repeat. Sa-sa-na is dead ! 
— in the mysterious Provideooe of God, not permitted to 
breathe out her life in the arms of affection, amid the consola- 
tions of friendship, and kindly oare, and the offices of our holy 
religion, — ^but smitten down ip an instant — crushed before a 
terrible power, which, overleaping often all human oontrol, 
(sometimes, alas ! through human negligence,) overwhelms 
like the avalanche, or sweeps away like the whirlwind its help- 
less victims, almost before one agonized prayer can be offered 
up ! Let me not attempt to describe the anguished scene, nor 
to tell— for words are vain — the horror, and then the fearftil 
weight of certain wo. which sink the surviving brother and sis- 
ter as into the very earth. Does not their heart-rending situ- 
ation call for our utmost sympathy, our tears, and oar prayers ? 
— ^tbeir own distress almost too heavy for them to bear, and 
yet upon it the added burden of carrying these agonized tidings 
to their family, and above all, to their aged mother. Greater 
is their distress than that of the despairing son of Jaeob. How 
shall they go baok to their mother, and Sa-sa-na not with 
them } lest they see the evil which shall come upon their 
kiother !— And that lone mother, waiting in her forest home 
the long winter months, for the return of her far-wandered 
children ; — weary has been her watch, long patient her listen- 
ing ear, for the bounding feet, and the cheerful voices of those 


loved ones hastoning home. Painfully will that long watch 
have ending. Heavy and Had will bo the foot-fall that conies 
to her door. Evil to hei will bo the voice, though its tones 
bo in love, that tolls tho fatal news — her children will not all 
return ! 

Brethren and friends, I have asked you to pray with mo for 
these afflicted hearts— for all the bereaved family of the de- 
ceased ; to pray *'our merciful God and heavenly Father, who 
has taught us in His Holy word, that He doth not willingly 
afflict or grieve the children of men, that He will look with pity 
upon their sorrows ; that He will remember them in mercy ; 
sanctify His Fatherly correction to them ; endue their souls 
with patience under their affliction, and with resignation to His 
blessed will ; comfort them with a sense of His goodness ; lift 
up His countenance upon them, and give thorn peace, through 
Jesus Christ our Lord."* Let us «till, each one of us, pray 
for this. Let not our symptvlhy be a mere vanishing thing. 
Let our sorrow and tears still be shared with them, in fulfilment 
of an Apostle's exhortation to "weep with those that weep," 
and of the Saviour's own blessed example, who wept with 
mourning relatives at the grave of Lazarus. This tribute, you 
will, I am persuaded, willingly yield. And it will be some- 
thing of comfort — it will be the source of some consolation to 
their wounded hearts, to know that you do this. Let me add, 
it will be wisdom in us, for ourselves, to cherish tlicse emo- 
tions and sympathies. It will be good for our hearts to linger 
for a season, in that far-off hbi\se of mourning. I dwell on 
their grief only, for though I am assured a common and sincere 
sorrow over this crushed Flower of the forest affects all our 
hearts, ours is as nothing in comparison with their affliction, on 
whom this calamity has directly fallen. 

It is, brethren, "a time to weep — a time to mourn," yet. 

*Book of Common Prayer, 


]>rai»C(I })c O'od, not ho as without the light nnd tho liopcH of 
our holy Faith. While therefore, we Hcek to »lmre with these 
nfliictoil friends, some portion of their sorrow, and to communi- 
cate with them in sympathy and in prayers, let some farther 
thoughts also be given to the sad event before us, for our es- 
tablishint; in Divine doctrine, and our comfort of hope ; and, 
may it please God, for their strengthening and comfort, too . 

A» Christians we say, and we know, that the ruling hand of 
od is in every event of mortal life. But we do not always so 
fully apprehend this truth, as we are allowed, and as it is our 
wisdom to do. It is fit that we should consider widely, in the 
light of revelation, the contingent purposes of Infinite Provi- 
dence, in dark dispensations like this we are now called to oon- 
tcmplatc ; and especially that we should rest our thoughts* 
and our faith, on those certain truths which His word gives us 
to know, in connection with tho outward and visible circum- 
stances of death, even in its most appalling forms. For 
the former, let it be enough now to dwell upon two only, among 
tho most evident and important of the Divine purposes. When 
the servants of Christ are thus early and suddenly called away, 
there is this clear voice to surviving relatives and friends, from 
out the afflictive dispensation. It is a call to them anew, to 
set their affections supremely there, where yet another treas- 
ure has been gathered in of God, as it were to draw their hearts 
on after. And His act of apparent severity, is indeed toward 
them, but the loosing of one mtye band that bound them to 
earth, to link it in the chain which binds them to heaven and 
heavenly things. The Christian poet realized this, when be 
wrote from the deep calm of spiritual contemplations, 

" 'Tib swcot, as year by year we lose 
Friends out of sight, in faith to muso, 
How grows in Paradise our storp."* 

*Koble's Christian Year. 





"V^N .^ >•v/-^ *'X^>.-'^ / 


'>'' ^./•X/"V^^^-\./-Vv' XZ-XZ-N / N/^ /"N-'NrN>'X/--. ^-•^y*-' N 



Another plain indication of tho gracioutj purposo of God, in 
taking away ono and another in the niidtit of years and uueful- 
ncHH, or, as in tho caKe before uh, in the opening day of hope 
and of distinguished promise, we find in the words of tho 
prophet Isaiah, "Tho righteous are taken away from tho evil 
to come." Fr»m how much of sorrow, trial and sin, arc such 
most certainly removed ; and from what unknown afflictions 
and extremities of peril may they thus be given escape ! What 
secret mercy may *hero be, evon in the most saddening 
instances of iiudden death! — mercy, which, could we see 
it in all its fulness, as one day it may be permitted us, 
would cause our bowed hearts to fling the load of grief from off 
them, to leap for joy, and to cry aloud with thanksgiving ! Our 
heavenly Father — for our ohastesing — wills not now to open 
to us all these views. He bids us "walk by faith, and not by 
siglit"-^to bo still and know that ho is God — that "He doeth 
all things well"— -that all things — seem they never so grievous- 
**work together for good to them that love him." In this faith. 
Ho would have us resign to Him, those whom Ho takes from 
earth, by what wo are so prone to call, untimely death. Let 
us then fulfil His will, in owKing tho merciful goodness which 
we oannot see. Let the faith of it be to us, and especially t9 
the bereaved, «, foundation tf jpeace, which no flood of sorrow 
can remove. 

And while wo confess the wislom and love of G od, which such 
views of His providential purposes reveal to us, let us directly 
regard and apply a doctrine which our holy faith specifically 
commends to us, for our comfort always ; and which so relieves 
the contemplation of the terrors of mortality, alike in its gontloit 
approaches, and when its agencies are sudden and violcrrt. 

The word of inspiration by tho Psalmist, dcclarcB to such as 
make the Lord their refuge, 

"Q(m1 shall charge hia nngcl legions, ! 

Watch and ward u'cr theo to keep." 




I And it is of tho Saviour's own teaching, that not alone docs the 
I soul of tho faithful go forth to try tho mysteries of tho unseen 
j world, but ministering angels receive it as it parts from its chy 
! tabernacle, and carry it home to tho Paradise of God. Tho 
; doctrine is one — tho doctrine of the angel ministry to tho heirs 
of salvation. 

Brethren, God was not a God afur off— He had not forgotten to 
be gracious to this child of His — that thus with fearful violence, 
the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl broken, the life He 
gave, taken away. No! in that crushing shock. Ho was present, 
OS ever, in mighty power, in wisdom and in mercy. And hov- 
ering above the scene of rushing rage and swift destruction, were 
those agents of Omnipotence, whom He sometimes makes winds 
and flames of fire, to do His will ; and who ever go forth at 
His command, more swiftly than on telegraphic wings, to min- 
ister to His chosen in their hour of need. Stooping in that 
moment so dread to mortal nature, those blessed spirits fulfilled 
their gracious office. Twofold indeed their office was. Two 
sisters were together — alike in mortal peril, and helpless, be- 
fore the maddened element. God willed to spare the one, and 
the broad shield of angel power was interposed, to ward off 
the impending blow. God willed to take the other to himself, 
and the fatal shock was suffered. But as the earthly house 
fell before it in ruins at their feet, angels received the yielded 
spirit, and bore it heavenward with infolding wing. 

God be praised, brethren, for assurances liko these — mercy 
in sparing life, through so glorious, though unseen agencies- 
equal mercy in taking it away — translating it by the same 
blessed ministry into realms of light, almost before the shadows 
of mortality have closed around its earthly phase. 

And so is it always. They who are truly the servants of 
God, are never in danger amid the uncertainties of human life . 
God's commissioned messengers, great in power and wisdom 


- I 

op 8A-8A-NA. 


k ^Ny-vy^^Kz-v^-v/ 

Vy^y>-/Ay^/^^X /^ /N A\ /^ /^ '"\ y 

— oxoollont in Htrongtii— arc sent forth for their dofonco,— a 
tsiroling hoHt encamped around them. No evil can happen to 
them, no plague come nigh thcin, but as Qod allowH it for their 
good. The mortal Bummonn will come indeed, in His own 
time. It may come when they think not. It may como by 
terrible messengerH. l^it they need not fear. Nothing can 
pluck them out of their Futhorcs hand. Nothing can separate 
them from the love of (Christ. Nothing can deprive them of 
that guardian ministry, which the abounding goodness of the 
Lord has vouchsafed them. Death, in seeming to frustrate 
this, does but give occasion for the crowning charities of angtOs. 

These truths of our faith — how do they change the aspect of 
mortal calamities ! IIow they brighten like golden day, upon 
the darkness of sorrow ! How they pour the divine oil of con- 
solation into wounded hearts, and infuse joy into the bitterest 
cup of grief ! How they cause love to pour forth from the 
welling depths of our souls, to that Almighty Father, lledccm- 
cr and Sanotifier, whoso love is thus shewed us ! And what 
glorious conjecture do they cast, as a bow of promise, on that 
veiling cloud which hides from our vision the surpassing joys 
of the life immortal— 'those things which eye hath not seen nor 
ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man — the 
things which God hath prepared for them that love him ! May 
the assurance of all these Divine doctrines be abundantly the 
portion of our afflicted friends, in this present bereavement. 
May they think of this departed child and sister, as mercifully 
removed from the thronging trials and pains of this life, and 
carried by angels, to a blessed rest in the presence of the Lord. 
And may their hearts be set supremely on things above, that 
at length they may be partakers with her of the heavenly 

Mingling thoughts of the Divine consolations with our sor- 
rowing sympathies, let us also lay to heart,-rand especially let 






' >• ■' vyv/x^s ^\^\^ \^\^*^' 

■\^ \^\,y \^ v-.-^^V>^V^\^'V/\.^\/^ 

mo charge it upon you, my young friumlH— tlio wolonin Ichhou 
which early and Huddcn death, ho often exeniplifled, iH doHignod 
to teach ufl. Our 'Mifo w even a vapor, that appoaroth for a 
little time, and then vaniHhoth nway." "In the midtit of lifo wo 
are in deatli." No froshnosH of youth, no health, no buoyancy 
of Hpirits, can give m any nHHuranoo of length of day«i. Wo 
know not what even a day may bring forth. The slightest flhook 
may sever the thread of this mortal being. The gentlest breath 
of the summer breeze, may wing the shaft of death to our bo- 
soms. We all know this. Wc do not need to have it proved 
to UH anew. But oh, how many are living as though it wore 
not so ! Will you not all endeavor to urge this truth nion^ 
earnestly upon yourselves, with its instant admonition to bo 
prepared for death .' Will you not try to apprehend, and make 
your own, the inspired prayer of the Psalmist, "80 teach us 
to number our days, that wo may apply our hearts unto wis- 
dom." The Spirit of God is graciously waiting to teach you 
all that true wisdom, which to know is lifo eternal. "Ask, 
and it shall bo given you ; Hcek, and yc shall fil)4'" 


Let a brief glance over the circumstances of the sad event 
wo have been contemplating, serve, in conclusion, to improM 
its solemn admonitions upon us, and to draw our hearts out 
still, toward tho house of mourning. 

A little while ago, and the heart of the Indian girl was glad 
in the thought of an early return to her homo in tho woods. 
And wo heard her tell of the joy it is, to bo at home with Na- 
ture in the early spring— when the brooks are murmuring again, 
and the buds unfold, and the soft winds whisper in the troe- 
tops, and the early birds return, and all nature is beautiful and 
smiling, beneath tihc hand of our Father, and seems to bo vocal 
with his praise. — That longed-for season is coming soon ; and 
its life, its beauty, and its niulody, will spring anew in the Mo- 




Ol- HA-8A-NA. 


'v.^\' vvyv 

»^v^x*>./^i '^ ''^x^>^y*v.'Ny-^.^^/^ ^v /N^xy^^w^ /^xvyx^sy 

hawk woo»1k ; hut tlio Iron footBtopH of Sa-ha-na will not lio 
roaming there, her joyoiw voioo will no nioro thrill in tho hcurtn 
of loving kindred and fricndH, nor her wnrblings echo the wild 
bird'rf Hong. ChccrlosH and lonely will bo tho foroHt path — 
Hilont and Had, will bo "the wigwam at homo."— A little later 
— perhaps before the green loaf is grown— and in the Christian 
temple which Indian piety has reared there, there will bo a 
Horrowful gathering f;om out those wilds, for solemn funeral 
rites. And prayer will be said, and holy song bo sung, and 
Chriit proolaimod as tho Resurrection and tho Life— and 
then in the quiet churchyard, the mortal remains of the Mo- 
hawk Maiden will be committed to tho ground, — "Earth to 
earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,"— and the blessed words of 
the Faith will be spoken above them : "I heard a voice from 
heaven saying unto me, Write from henceforth, blessed are the 
dead who die in the Lord ; even wo sai.h tho Spirit ; for they 
rest from their labours. " 

So change tho scenes of life — so fail its visions — so fade its 
hopes. Ours is the tribute of mourning and tears, liut while 
wo yield it, on cmr own or others' behalf, let us bless the Word 
that bids us look beyond these dissolving views, to tlic bright, 
unchanging scones of the life above. There, sorrows shall be 
known no moro ; tears shall forever bo wiped away ; and 
mourning will bo but a dim rcmembraacc, as of the shadow of 
a cloud on the morning path of existence. In the faith of that 
life, let pious hands close the grave of this departed child of 
God, and gently press the turf upon its raised mound. There 
sleep the precious dust, till in the resurrection at the last day, 
it is raised in power and glory, spiritual and immortal. 

"Sweetly their bodies rest 

Beneath tho green sod, 
Whoso souls are with tho blo&l) 


May it be ours allj so to lio down to tho long stilly slumber 
of tho grave— and to wake in the springtime of the life immor- 
tal, in the likeness of Jesus, and to the joys of His presence, 
in His everbsting kingdom. 

I. V- '**■ 

'■-:; ; 

..^ V... -t. 

1 • :.t: 

' "V^ >^ Vy v^ v_/ *^ \y \^ v^ -^^ v-- N^ 


vy »^ N,/'\^ ^-^ V v^N 


"^•^ \^ \.' ^^' \^ \^ \^ J 


BY W. H. C. H08MER. 

"I dsr« not tnmt a hurg«r U7, 
But imtber loosen fimn the lip 
Short ■wallow-flights of sonc. thatdia 

Their wings in toars."— 


When hearts all joy, and cheeks all bloomy 
'rhe Paroee mark for an early doom, 
And ties are clipped by their cmel shears 
That bound us to the yonng ip /ears— 
His dirge in vain the Poet nngs, 
Waking the wildly-wailing strings ; 
Fo:: die tearless alienee of dec^air, 
Not words, can loss so dread declare. 


V ^s >x-A. y-\ /-v y "X 



Though sad to witness, day by day, 
Our loved ones waste with slow decay, 
While the features warm with a hectic glow, 
More bright than Painting will ever know — 
Thrice mournful is the stroke of Fate, 
Leaving us wholly desolate. 
That falls, unheralded, to sever ^• 

An idol from our souls forever. 


Though mine is not a practiced ear. 

Oh ! how I loved her song to hear :— . 

Her teachers were the tuneful rills, 

And airy voices from the hills ; 

The lay she breathed was Nature's own, 

Melting the soul with its liquid tone. 

And caught from water-fall, and bird. 

Were notes, by the spell-bound listener heard. 



Her large, black eye wa9 ev^r bright 
With flashes of eleotrip %^t, 
And her cheek with a glo^iifig sian-sdt red 
Like summer twilight, overspread. 






The shade of woods was in her hair, 

The blue-bell's grace in her queenly air, 

And the proudest willing homage paid 

To the matchless charms of the Mohawk Maid. 


Ah ! gathered was this Rose of ours 

When Life was in its Moon of Flowers, 

Ere canker soiled one tender leaf, 

Or frost had done the work of grief : 

She perished, like some worthless weed, 

In the track of the White Man's Iron Steed ; 

And strangers in the tomb have laid 

The crushed remains of the Mohawk Maid. 


Poor widowed mother of the dead ! 

Thou wilt hear no more her bounding tread, 

But let one soothing thought control 

The grief that rends thy tortured soul. 

When sang of Heaven thy forest child. 

What transport breathed in each 'wood-note wild'; 

The path of a blamelcH life she trod, 

And the pure in thought shall look on God. 





Let velvet mofm o*er the Blumberer creep 
Where the bones of her red forefvlhera sleep, 
And the spot be marked wfth no other sign 
Thftn some old familisr oak, or pine :— 
Better a quiet place of rest, 
With the turf of home upon her breast, 
Than the proudest tomb that trophied Art 
Could build to cover her mouldering heart.