lected mainly from the Choctaws, Chickasaws, and Creeks. The Rev. Mr. Henderson is the Principal. The school is under the patronage of the Baptist Board. Several young men of the Putawatomies are prosecuting their studies under the care of the same Board, at Hamilton Institution, N. Y. METHODIST EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. THE missions of this Society are among various tribes of the North American Indians, within the limits of the United States and Upper Canada. CHOCTAWS. A mission was commenced by this society, among the Choctaws, in the central part of the State of Mississippi, about five years since, and soon relinquished. Within the last year it has been resumed.-Rev. Messrs. Tally and Smith, Missionaries. CREEKS. ASBURY.-Near the line dividing Georgia and Alabama.-Rev. Messrs. Hamlin and Hill, Missionaries.-School containing 20 or 25 scholars. Operations of the mission are impeded by the unsettled state of the Indians, and their emigration to the west. CHEROKEES. Four stations; at each of which there is a school, containing in all about 100 scholars.Seven missionaries. WYANDOTS. One station on the Sandusky river, in the State of Ohio.-One missionary: two teachers: 54 scholars in the school. PUTAWATOMIES. On Fox river, in the State of Illinois. One missionary, and one teacher. MISSISSAUGAS. The following stations are among the Indians in Upper Canada.-The Rev. William Case is the Superintendent. The Gospel of Mark has been translated into Mohawk, and is to be printed. GRAND RIVER MISSION.-On a river of the same name in Upper Canada. Rev. Joseph Messmore, Missionary; and two teachers. Scholars 59. CREDIT MISSION.-On a river of the same name, emptying into lake Ontario from the north. Rev. James Richardson, Missionary; Mr. Jones, Teacher. Boys' school, 35: Girls' school, 28. BELLVILLE MISSION.-On Grape Island, in the Bay of Quinte. A school containing 25 children. DELAWARES AND CHIPEWAS. MUNSEE TOWNS.-On the river Thames. Rev. Messrs. Ryerson, Case, and Harris, Missionaries. School large and increasing. RICE LAKE MISSION. For the Indians around Rice, Mud, and Schoogog lakes. A new station: no school. LAKE SIMCO MISSION.-In a village of 600 Chipewas. Summary. Fourteen stations: 18 missionaries: whole number received into society, 1,600: children in the schools, between 300 and 400. UNITED BRETHREN. THOSE missions only will be mentioned which are on the continent of North America. These are in Labrador, among the Indians in Upper Canada, and among the Cherokees in Georgia. LABRADOR. The mission was begun 1770. NAIN.-Brethren Mueller, Morhardt, Henn, Hertsberg, and Menzel.-The number belonging to the congregation is 231; of whom 90 are communicants; children, 91. HOPEDALE.-Brethren Meisner, Stock, Koerner, and Fritsche.-Congregation, 182: communicants, 64: children, 113. OKKAK.-Brethren Stuerman, Kmoch, Kunath, Knaus, and Beck.-Congregation, 353: communicants, 97: children, 119. INDIANS IN UPPER CANADA. NEW FAIRFIELD.-Brethren Luckenback and Haman.-Congregation, 184: communicants, 36. CHEROKEES. SPRINGPLACE.-Brother Byhan, OOCHELOGY.-Brethren Smith and Eder. No particulars are known respecting the present number in the congregations, or in the schools, at these stations." CUMBERLAND PRESBYTE RIANS. Station among the Chickasaws, about 50 miles N. N. E. from Mayhew. CHARITY HALL.-Rev. Robert Bell, Missionary. The school contains about 25 scholars. LADIES IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK. GREECE. The Rev. Jonas King, Missionary. Mr. King arrived in Greece on the 26th of July, 1828. His object is to promote education, distribute religious books and tracts, and otherwise communicate religious instruction. He was favorably received by the president. Many of the people were inquiring for religious instruction and for books. Obituary. NOTICE OF THE DECEASE OF MRS. ELIZABETH BISHOP, OF THE SANDWICH ISLANDS MISSION. that island some foreign physician, whose advice she might avail herself of. For a time she was somewhat benefitted by the voyage; and Doct. Ford, of the English whale ship, Elizabeth, and the surgeon of a Russian discovery ship, which were then in port, paid the kindest attention to her case, until they perceived that their prescriptions produced little or no good effect. They pronounced her disease to be an obstinate dyspepsy. After spending about three months at Honoruru, she returned to Kairua. In the mean time, her debility had greatly increased and her pains had become exceedingly severe. The irritation of her nervous system had become such, that the slightest noise would agitate and distress her. The voyage to Kairua exhausted her still more; and after her arrival there, she wasted MRS. Bishop was a native of Marlborough Mass., and was born in June, 1798. Her family name was Edwards. She was early deprived of both her parents; her father having died before she was two years old, and her mother when she was about fourteen. Left an orphan at this early age, she became dependent for support upon her own exertions. At this trying period, she found faithful friends who counselled and protected her. Of their kindness she was deeply sensible, and repaid it with gratitude and warm affection. While attending school at Bradford, she became decidedly pious, and was ever after very exemplary in the performance of all religious duties. She was deeply interested in the cause of missions; and though she felt her incompetency to engage personally in a work of such magnitude as missionary labors among the hea-away rapidly. While at Honoruru, besides the then, yet when that seemed to become her duty, she could cheerfully yield up herself to the service. Her marriage with Mr. Bishop, and embarkation at New Haven, Conn., for the Sandwich Islands, took place in November, 1822, and she arrived at the latter place in April, 1823. From 1824 till her decease, she resided at Kairua. Mrs. B. was possessed of a very cheerful and amiable disposition, and strong powers of mind. She also possessed a great desire for intellectual improvement, and carefully availed herself of every opportunity of acquiring knowledge. She was uncommonly persevering in surmounting difficulties, which stood in her path. She seems to have been eminently qualified for her labors among the heathen, and secured the confidence and affection of all her brethren and sisters in the same field. That she was much beloved by the people of the Islands, appears from their assiduous attentions during her sickness. She was peculiarly successful in teaching the females and gaining their affections. Mrs. Bishop was taken ill in August, 1827; and immediately became unable to perform the ordinary labors in her family. She seemed at first to suffer from no particular disease, but from a general debility, with occasional slight pains in different parts of her system. As her illness increased, various remedies were resorted to, without giving any permanent relief. She removed into the mountains to enjoy the cooler and purer air; but the desired effect not being produced, she accompanied Mr. Bishop to Honoruru, on the island of Oahu, to try the effect of a voyage, and with the hope, also, of finding at || medical aid of the two physicians mentioned above, she shared in the sympathy and care of the mission families at that place; and while at Kairua she received from Mrs. Thurston the kindest attention. The native females at both places, and especially at the latter, where she finished her course, were constantly solicitous to testify their esteem and affection. Mr. B. remarks on this point The Christian females in this place were not backward in their attentions at this hour of trial. With the tenderest sympathy for the sufferings of their beloved teacher, they vied with each other, who should be foremost in waiting upon her and administering to her comfort. Two in rotation, came each morning, and sat by her bedside through the day, fanned her, bathed her aching head in water, and chafed her cold limbs with their hands: thus affording the clearest evidence, that her labors with them had not been in vain. After I had become nearly exhausted with watchings and anxiety, they continued their visits through the night, alternately administering to her wants. All hope of Mrs. B.'s recovery died away. Her strength was exhausted, but her pains were not mitigated. She bore them, however, through all her decline, with exemplary patience, and resignation to the divine will. She continued to grow feeble, until the 21st of February, 1828, when she ceased from her labors and sufferings on earth, to enter into that rest which remains for the people of God. A communication from her husband contains a statement of her feelings in view of approaching death, and affords ample evidence of her humility, the high standard by which she estimated the Christian character, and her confidence in the salvation of the Gospel. From the first of her sickness, Mrs. Bishop became impressed with the belief, that she had not long to live, and often expressed to me the necessity of setting her house in order for the event of death. At that time I considered it as the effect of melancholy, brought on by anxiety and a declining state of health. While residing at Kuahewa, with the family of Mr. Bingham, she one day walked out to a solitary spot, where she supposed no human footstep would often tread, and selected the place as one where she could wish to repose after her decease. She was constantly impressed with a sense of her unfaithfulness, and the little good she had accomplished during the few years of her missionary life, and often prayed that she might be spared in order to make amends for past neglect. As I may have occasion frequently to advert to the low estimation in which she held her services in the cause, and the opinion, which she entertained at times, that her neglect of the heathen had even been a reproach, I would take this occasion to bear my testimony, in accordance with my brethren, that her active mind when not occupied in necessary domestic concerns, was ever employed in doing something for the spiritual or temporal good of the people around her. She was daily in the habit of receiving the females into her house, to instruct them in reading, writing, and domestic arts. And the reason why she could not fully appreciate this, during her last illness, was doubtless owing to the melancholy state of her mind, springing out of her disorder. She was never, when in health, prone to think highly of her religious attainments; but possessing the highest charity for others, she would often propose them to herself, as models for imitation. She never could feel, when she had done for the heathen what was in her power, that she had so done her duty, as to merit the approbation of her Master. In health, her spirits were usually buoyant and cheerful; but in regard to her religious duties, she was ever humble, and seldom appealed to them, as an evidence of her piety. She often used to lament that she could find no secluded spot in or about the house, where she could retire at stated seasons for secret devotion; and gave that as a reason why she had no more religious enjoyment. But in her late sickness, the thought that she had not always been punctual in the secret duties of the closet, gave her the deepest sorrow. Often she would in the most solemn manner charge me, as I valued my peace of conscience, and desired to avoid the pangs of remorse on a dying bed, to be ever punctual in secret devotions. She desired me also to tell it to others, when she was gone, that they too might learn from her to avoid what she then suffered. It may be proper to remark here, that in the duties of the closet, her conscience was ever tender; and in my opinion, she did always endeavor to be punctual in this respect: but it is probable that the duty was sometin es omitted by her, owing to the interruptions to which she was subjected, every hour in the day, by the intrusion of natives into a house, where there is no upper chamber, or inner door, unless a curtain may be so called. Mrs. B. was one who ever felt the mo:.t lively concern for the welfare of her children, situated in this land of strangers, and witnessing the corrupt manners that surrounded them. It was one great burden of her daily prayers, that they might be preserved from the influence of pernicious examples. It can well be imagined, therefore, what must have been her feelings, in the prospect of leaving them in their infantile state. Many indeed were the tears which she shed, and the prayers which she offered up on their behalf, that if possible, her life might be spared for their sakes. But God was gracious to her in this also, and gave her strength to resign them into his hands, and assurance, that he would raise up kind friends to provide for them, when she was no more. I was both much surprised and comforted, to find her, who had scarcely been absent from them one hour, so willing to commit them to the future care of others whom she knew not, assured that God would be their protector and better portion. It was a source of great grief to her mind, that she could find no one of all that visited her in her sickness, who seemed to think with her, that she would not recover. The subject of death was one upon which she desired to converse often; but those with whom she spoke on the subject, felt that such an event was improbable; and instead of sympathising in her feelings, would usually request her, for the sake of her health, not to indulge in those reflections, for there was no probability that she would die under this complaint. "It is trying," she would reply, "that none can be found who feel with me that death is nigh: but," she would add, "it is all right: I must pass the Jordan of death alone: there none can bear me company, and why not learn the way alone, since it is the will of my Heavenly Father." Indeed it was our ignorance of the full extent of her disorder, supposing it was dyspepsy merely, that induced us all to think that her sickness, though severe, would eventuate in her restoration to health. But no assurances from physicians or friends could alter her views of this subject: she would lay her hand upon her heart and say, "Here it is; I feel that death is near and has already begun his work. The sensations of my || own breast tell me that I shall not recover." She would often express the liveliest gratitude to those who attended upon her to administer to her comfort. "May the Lord bless you," she would say, "am not worthy of your kindness, nor can I ever repay you; but I pray God to bless you, and reward you. Should I ever recover, I am sure I should be willing to wash the feet of you all." At other times she would say, "O you know not how it humbles me to see your concern for one so unworthy: if you knew but half of my sins, you would not, I am sure you could not, waste your precious time upon me so undeserving." But the greatest grief of all, and that which caused her deep humiliation of heart, was, that I should be called from my appropriate work to attend upon her. "When souls are perishing for lack of knowledge," she would say to me, "is it right that you should forsake your work of preaching and translating the Word of God, to attend upon me, who have merited nothing but displeasure from the hands of my Heavenly Father? I fear I am answerable for all this." When I assured her it was not so; that she was no more answerable for my attendance upon her, than she was accountable for her illness, she replied, "I fear that it is my own imprudence that has brought me here; and if so, am I not accountable for the consequences?" In all her religious views, even in the darkest hours, I observed that her faith in the word and providence of God, in the fulness and all-sufficiency of the Saviour remained unshaken. She felt no doubts concerning the truth of what God had revealed: there all was clear, and the only difficulty that remained was, the inability to appropriate the promises to her own case. During the hours of her spiritual darkness, it was truly edifying to see with what earnestness she sought after the evidences of a true faith, and with what jealousy she watched over her heart and conscience, lest she might mistake the shadow and lose sight of the reality. "This," she would say, "is not an hour for me to sit down satisfied with past attainments, and past experience: I must go back again to the first principles of faith: I must feel something more than the hope arising from || || || what I have done: I must have stronger evidence of acceptance than that arising from love to the brethren. My love to them may have been only natural affection, common to all towards those with whom they associate, and with whom they are in the interchange of kind offices. I must feel the spirit of Christ within me, subduing my sinful heart and implanting holy affections, and an overcoming faith." These seasons of doubts and fears, and expressions of great concern lest her religion had been hypocritical, used regularly to return with the paroxysms of her disor der: but as these passed away, her mind would again become tranquil, and hope would again revive. Still there was no ecstasy, no assurance that her foundation stood strong: it was the trembling hope of one who felt that pardon was wholly unmerited, and granted solely for the sake of Christ. After her return from Oahu to Kairua, and while sinking fast towards the grave, her mind was more at rest. The fears and doubts that had so distracted her mind, passed away, and a cheerful hope succeeded in their stead. She would often say, "I feel that Jesus is mine; that he has accepted me, and will take me to himself, when I go hence." She spent much time, during the intervals of pain, in prayer for herself, her husband and children, her brethren and sisters of this mission, and for the whole church of God. It was at this time, that the pains, which heretofore had been confined to her body and limbs, attacked her head, and at times almost deprived her of reason. She had often expressed her thankfulness, that in all the pain she endured, her head had been quite free; but now the trial of her patience was come. Agonies to which she had before been a stranger, racked her brain. We bathed her head in cold water night and day, and some one constantly held it with both hands, "to keep it," as she would express it, "from falling to pieces." She had often expressed to me a desire to remove into the country, where she thought the cold air and bathing her temples in the mountain water would give her some relief. We felt the difficulty of making the attempt: for at this time she was exceedingly reduced, and could not even turn herself in bed. She was accustomed to be laid upon a litter every morning, and evening, and carried out by two men to take an airing. One morning, during her usual airing, she ordered her bearers to ascend with her towards the mountain. They did so, bore her nearly half the way thither, and then returned. On her arrival she expressed herself refreshed by "the excursion. The next morning, there fore, we undertook to remove her on her litter; and much to our satisfaction, she endured the excursion with little fatigue. She remained in the country six days, but she suffered almost incredibly from the effect of the cold nights upon her emaciated frame; so that the object after which we sought, was defeated. It was while in the country, separated from the society of every brother and sister, and in the near prospect of eternity, that she seemed to gird on anew her armor to meet the coming foe. I had until this time indulged hopes, that by the blessing of God, she might eventually recover, but these hopes had for sometime been diminishing, and now they were quite gone. The pallid sunken cheek, the hollow eye, the diminished pulse, and wandering reason, evinced clearly to my mind, that death was near. When I informed her of my apprehensions, she seemed relieved in her mind, and replied, "It is well: death has no terrors: it is what I have long looked and waited for, as a release from the pains that assail my frame. I have long given up all thoughts of recovery, and death only appears desirable. And you, my dear husband," she added, "the Lord will comfort and bless you under your bereavement, and give you many souls for your hire. Remember the promise, 'they that go forth weeping, bearing precious seed, shall return again rejoicing, bringing their sheaves with them.' Take care to continue faithful, steadfast, and abounding in the work of the Lord, and this promise is yours." A little after, having lain some time with her eyes closed, she opened them and said to me, "I have been praying for an overcoming faith, that may come off a conqueror in the hour of conflict. Pray for me, O pray for me, that the everlasting arms may be my support, when heart and flesh shall fail." She then desired me to sing to her the words of the dying Christian, "Vital spark of heavenly flame," &c. I had scarcely commenced, when she interrupted me by saying that her nerves could not bear singing, and requested me only to repeat it. After I had finished, and asked her how she felt, I found that her reason was again wandering, and I said no more. At another time, during an interval of pain, she spoke to me of her children now about to be left orphans. She said she had resigned them into the hands of God; charged me to be kind to them, and to leave no suitable means untried to procure for them a good home in America. "I, also," she added, "was once an orphan, and know too well the ills of orphanage not to be solicitous for my dear children." It was about this time, as near as I remember, that I asked her whether she had any message to leave in my charge to her friends, either here, or in America. "Yes," she replied, "tell my brethren and sisters of the mission, that I love them unto the end; that I have nothing to bestow in return for their kindness to me, but my thanks and my prayers for their prosperity in their labor of love. Tell my dear American friends, that they will neither see, nor hear from me again in this life, but that I hope hereafter to meet them again, to part no more forever. And tell my dear pupils at Kairua, that after a few days; they will see me no more; that it was my hope to live long, and have met with them for many days to come. Tell them to forgive whatever they have seen in me, that they thought amiss; to listen to the words of their teachers, and above all, to seek earnestly after the word of life and the way of salvation; to hold fast to the right way unto the end. Charge them to remember my dying words that we may all meet again in heaven." About one week before her death, when revived a little, after a season of great exhaustion and fatigue, she called for her children. When they were brought, she laid her emaciated hands upon the head of each and said, "The Lord shield this defenceless head underneath the shadow of his wings." She then kissed them and wept. Each day now presented some new symptom of approaching dissolution. Three days before her departure, she became entirely bereft of her reason, and ceased to know her friends and attendants. About the middle of the night, when the afflictive event took place, I seated myself by her. The pulse was by this time scarcely perceptible. I held her cold hand in mine for some time, when I heard her say, in a broken, inarticulate voice, "Let me depart in peace." Thinking she might wish me to leave her a little to quietude, I removed my chair to the door, and thought upon the glories that would open on her soul, when released from its crumbling tenement. In a little time, I inquired of the female attendants how she appeared; and they motioned to me that she was asleep. I immediately caught a lamp and hastened to her; but she was gone. Without a struggle or a groan, she gently breathed forth her spirit into the arms of her Saviour. The funeral services were attended on the Saturday morning following, when a numerous procession of females all dressed in mourning followed her to the grave. She rests in peace, in the church-yard, there to await the joyful summons of the |