neighbours does not appear to have been of an unfavourable kind, but rather the reverse. The protracted and very serious judicial proceedings against the murderers have struck awe into the hearts of the violent, and given tranquillity to the peaceable in these villages. These proceedings are not yet terminated. When the trial came on before the Circuit Judge, we understand that the guilt of two of the chief parties concerned was fully established; but from a difference of opinion between the European and Mussulman Judges as to the extent of their guilt-whether they were the actual perpetrators of the murder or only accessaries, and therefore whether they were liable to capital punish ment or only to lengthened imprisonment the case has been referred to the Supreme Criminal Court. One evil which we have to regret is, that our poor friends have been greatly distracted, sometimes by alarm, but chiefly by anxious attendance as witnesses at Court: and hence they have not enjoyed that extent of benefit from religious ordinances which they otherwise would have done: but, on the other hand, their sufferings and trials have wrought a depth of conviction and seriousness in their religious feelings, which is truly gratifying. We are perfectly satisfied that God has been teaching them in His own way, much better than we could have done in any way of ours. OBITUARY NOTICES OF TWO NEW-ZEALAND GIRLS. MR. Richard Davis, of Paihía, in New Zealand, gives the following particulars relative to two Native Girls: those which concern the chief subject of the narrative are deeply interesting. His Letter is dated Sept. 25, 1830. Since my last Letter to you it has pleased Almighty God to take to Himself the soul of my Native Girl, Betty. As the gracious dealings of God were so manifestly displayed towards her, I send you the following Narrative, which was drawn up by my Daughter Marianne, at my request. About five years ago, Betty was left at our house by a Kaipára Chief, who had fled to the Kauakaua, to Tekóki, for protection, at the time that the Napúi Tribe first began to make inroads into that now depopulated country. When first brought to the house she was a sickly-looking Slave Girl, and rather more stupid than others; but regular living had a good effect on Betty's constitution: she soon became a growing healthy girl; and, after a time, became valuable in the house as a servant, although her abilities were not of the first rate. For some time previous to the baptism of Peter and others, Betty appeared unusually thoughtful and steady; but said nothing as it respected her views on religious subjects. A few days afterward she went to my daughter, and told her, that it was her wish to give her soul to God that night; at the same time requesting Marianne to meet her and *Feb. 7, 1830. the other girls who were living with us, and converse with them on the exceeding great love of Christ in dying for sinners. This request was agreed to; and they have been regularly met by my daughter, twice a-week, in a private room, from that period to this day; and I have no doubt but their meetings have been a mutual benefit. She appeared always much affected when the agony of Christ previous to His suffering was spoken of. On the 11th of April she was received into the visible Church of Christ, through the ordinance of Baptism. When she returned from church, she expressed great joy at having been admitted to the Sacred Ordinance; and from that time till her death she seemed to enjoy much peace of mind. Soon after her baptism she became poorly, and symptoms of a consumption were visible upon her. She was very fond of two of the Native Girls who were living with us, and prayed with them every evening for a long time previous to her death. She exhorted them to turn to God ere it was too late. She would very often cry over one of the girls, whose name is Tuari, and say, "Oh Tuari! Tuari! it will not be long before I shall be gone from you; and why do you not believe? Do you think that God will not listen to your sorrows and prayers? Yes: He will listen gladly and his brother rose, and, going out, saw upon the road several of the persons whom Chand had mentioned, for it was clear moonlight; and on his calling to them, they chased him with clubs, with which they were all armed. He called up another man, who lived on the same premises; and, returning with him to the road, they saw two canoes, full of men, making off, and also a number of other persons, going toward Sulkea on foot. Through fear, they immediately concealed themselves in their own house till daylight. In the mean time, Chand had gone round to the back of his own premises, and there heard the leaders of the party calling out, "Where is Chand? Murder him! murder him!" And there he witnessed the murder of the poor old man, who, after a few faint cries for help, fell under their blows, in the little yard of the house where he had slept. Chand swam through a tank, and made off through the rice fields, without being observed; and ran to Bankipore, several miles, where he gave notice of the murder. As he had not exactly ascertained the actual perpetration of the murder, he was sent back for this purpose. He reached Garda again about sunrise on Tuesday, and then went with his brother to the fatal spot. They found the body perfectly lifeless and cold: on the forehead was a great gash, evidently made by the stroke of a club, and the neck had been pierced by a spear. Death, no doubt, had followed instantly: there was much blood upon the ground. It is gratifying to know, that, during the whole of his stay in the village, the conduct of the deceased had been in every respect blameless. It has been already stated, that his temper was mild and gentle, and he had certainly done nothing to prejudice the interests of any one. The last time he parted from the Missionary under whose direction he was placed, he seemed much depressed; and observed, "I am going, Sir, as a sheep among wolves;" and so it has appeared, Dr. Marshman, under date of Sept. 17, 1829, gives the following par ticulars: About twenty-five years ago, our Brother Syam Dass was killed, on a journey (I think) to Cutwa, with 40 rupees; but we were not able to trace his death to any thing of a religious nature: he was probably murdered on his way by robbers, for the sake of gain, as are many of his countrymen to this day. But our Native Brother, Ram-Kishora, has been murdered entirely on account of Religion. This happened at Garda, a village about six miles beyond Barripore, toward the Sunderbunds. Garda is one among many villages between Calcutta and the Sunderbunds, in which a great desire after the Gospel has lately manifested itself: it is about 20 miles from Calcutta, in a southerly direction. This part of the country, for above 20 miles in length and perhaps as many in breadth, being nearly covered with water for several months in the year, is so unhealthy, that no European Missionary has gone fully through it, beside the Brethren Mack and Robinson. About two months ago, however, we ordained Mr. Rabeholm, a Young Man born and brought up near us at Serampore, to the work of the Mission at Barripore, within reach of these villages, where he is now stationed. On the character of Ram-Kishora, and the consequences of his murder, Dr. Marshman adds Ram-Kishora was from Jessore, and came to Serampore 12 or 14 years ago. He was employed there in various situations. His conduct, though he was not free from the infirmities peculiar to his countrymen, was so correct, that I do not recollect his having once become the subject of church censure. He was remarkably quiet and inoffensive in his demeanour; and the employment which he most loved, was that of telling his countrymen what he knew of the Gospel of Peace. This made him highly useful in these villages, where he was almost constantly employed from morning till night among those inquiring the Way of Life. His death is, therefore, greatly to be lamented; but we are very far from thinking that this will stop the spirit of inquiry in these villages. It may, indeed, through the Divine Blessing, be the means of extending it far more widely. aged Brother was fully prepared for a We have every confidence that our death so sudden and so awful, and that he fell asleep in the Lord. Our ende who, at the time he was mu professed themselves belle have all continued stell new inqu vel The im raid: Christ road. I want make a noise on be gone." ok, and rer. I did so; e fell asleep. '," Why did is but a little vou read no affected with of expressing ne, do not ed but for a ted, as to be I returned leave me : to me about ⚫nd observing 1, she said, d my father rayed with more com → same, and le of the the 17th, her coun dily pains m with a aring the y mother ns. In the garme that hasten', looked her retched d, and, rewell. o draw ing to Betty; (said to all who pray to Him from their hearts. He is not like the Natives: He does not bear malice towards Believers. His love is great: it is not like the love of this world which soon dieth away, but it lasteth for ever and ever." She has been frequently heard to say to Tuari: "Tuari, go you and try the good things of God: if you do not like them, or if you find them less agreeable than a life of sin, then leave them: but I know, if you go the right way to find Christ, you will love Him too much to leave him again. He will hide your sins in His sepulchre: He will wash your heart in His blood: and when you are washed from your sins you will be happy, and not till then." During Betty's illness, Tuari was attentive to her on which occasions she would say, "Tuari, you are very kind to my body, but you care not for my soul. I used to pray WITH you; but as I can do that no longer, I will now pray FOR you." She would also talk very seriously to another of our girls, who made great profession of Religion, and say, Rama, you profess to believe: you pray at our Prayer-Meetings: you exhort your friends; but your works do not correspond, as they ought to do, with your profession. Do pray, earnestly and often, that God, of His mercy, would preserve you when you are tempted. Mind, you cannot deceive God. No: He can see every thing; and He knows every thing." A little before she took to her bed, she requested that the Men and Boys who were thinking on good things, and who wished to have Christ for their Saviour, might be permitted and requested to visit her alternately, in order that she might hear what they also had experienced of the love of God. At these visits she tried to impress on their minds the necessity of endeavouring to make their peace with God while they were in health; because they knew not the time when they would be called hence. She entreated all to turn to God, to pray that He would take the deceit out of their hearts, and wash them and make them clean through the blood of Christ. On the 21st of July she was much worse; and was obliged to keep her bed, so that she was seldom up more than an hour a-day. Her conversation now became more heavenly, and she seemed to enjoy much peace in her soul. When the other girls were talking on trifling subjects, or were noisy around her, she would say, “Why do you continually talk of those things? they will afford you no comfort when Christ comes to judge the world. You are always talking about, and doing for, your bodies; but you forget your souls. You are now covered with a thick darkness from Satan; but perhaps, after I am gone, Jehovah will let the rays of His Sun dispel it from before your eyes, and then all will be light and joy and peace.' As my daughter generally spent a portion of time with her every evening, besides her regular Meetings for Prayer, she was always anxious for prayer-time to come, that she might, to use her own words, get food for her soul. “I am,” she would say, very hungry: come and read to me David's Prayer," meaning the 51st Psalm. "Tell me what St. Paul said about death, and its power. I am not afraid to die." She was asked why she was not afraid of death: "Because," said she, "Christ died for me. He passed the lonely road before me, and He will also be with me. It is only now that I have seen the great love of Christ in giving Himself to die for my sins." About this time of her illness a Native Girl died in the Settlement, after a short illness. When Betty heard of it, she anxiously inquired whether she had sought and found Christ previously to her death; and when she was told that she had died in a cold, careless state, she sighed, and said, “It is very good to be afflicted with a lingering illness, because there is more time to think and pray." Being asked whether she would not like to recover again and live longer, she answered, 'No; because I should sin again, and make God angry. When I think of my former sins, it makes my heart very dark and sorrowful; but then, if I pray, God hides my sins from me, and puts His Spirit into my heart, and that makes it light again." As her illness increased, her anxiety for the salvation of the souls of others increased also. But Betty was not without her trials. In the beginning of August, I presented her with a copy of the translation of portions of the Scriptures which Mr. Yate got printed when he was in Port Jackson: this she valued very much. About three days after the book was presented to her, the other girl, Rama, being jealous on account of the gift of the book to Betty, said it was 1831.] OBITUARY NOTICES OF TWO NEW-ZEALAND GIRLS. thrown away upon her, a sick girl. As these words were spoken in her hearing, they affected her very much; so much so, that she wished me to take back the book again. When I heard what had taken place, I went and reprimanded the girl who had made use of the expression, and endeavoured to comfort Betty. In the evening she was asked by my daughter, why she took so much notice of the words which were spoken by the girl. She answered, “Because I had not prayed in the morning, and consequently, not having been fed with food from Heaven, I was not strong but as Rama prays for me, why did she say those bad words to grieve me?" My daughter asked her if she was angry with Rama. She said, "No. God has forgiven my sins, and shall I be angry with my friend for one word? No, no! I forgive her." A few days after, my daughter found her in tears, and asked her why she wept. Her answer was: 'My path is almost trodden, and my love for my companions is great will they repent and be sorry for their sins? Will they think on Him who died for them? Will they pray to Him for His assistance?" My daughter told her to pray earnestly for them. She said, "Yes: I often pray for them." During her illness she frequently conversed with Mary Peter, entreating her to live near to God, and instruct her girls in the ways of righteousness, and endeavour to lead them to the only Refuge for needy sinners. The remainder of the Narrative I will give in my daughter's own words: Towards the latter end of August, a serious change took place in our poor Betty her pain became more severe, and her cough much more troublesome; but, through mercy, she was so strengthened from on High, that I never heard her repine: on the contrary, she would frequently rejoice in the prospect of a happy release from all her bodily pains. On the 14th of September we saw but too plainly, from the poor girl's appearance, that she would speedily be taken from us. I went and stood by her bed, and asked how she was. She said, "Sit down by me." I did so. I said, "Betty, your pain is great." She said, "Yes, my pain is very great; but it is nothing to what my Saviour suffered: I feel happy." I asked how she felt in the prospect of death, and if she was not afraid to die. " دو 34.1 She said, "No, I am not afraid: Christ is waiting at the end of the road. I want to go. Do not let the girls make a noise to rouse me, and I shall soon be gone." She then gave me her book, and requested me to read to her. I did so; but while I was reading, she fell asleep. When she awoke, she said, "Why did you let me go to sleep? It is but a little while, and I shall hear you read no more. Seeing me much affected with her affectionate manner of expressing herself, she said, 'Marianne, do not grieve: we shall be separated but for a short time." I was so affected, as to be obliged to leave her. When I returned to her, she said, "Do not leave me: come, sit down, and talk to me about Heaven." But looking up, and observing that I was still much affected, she said, Call father. I did so, and my father came and talked to and prayed with her. After this she seemed more composed. On the 15th she was much the same, and continued so during the whole of the 16th: but on the morning of the 17th, death was plainly depicted on her countenance. But, although her bodily pains were very great, she bore them with a great degree of composure. During the afternoon, she took leave of my mother and sisters, and of her companions. In the evening, as I was walking in the garden, a messenger came to tell me that Betty was dying. I immediately hastened to her. While I stood by, looking stedfastly at her, she opened her eyes; and seeing me, she stretched out her hand, took hold of my hand, and, in a faint whisper, bade me farewell. In a little time, I endeavoured to draw my hand from her; but she continuing to grasp it tight, I said, "Farewell, Betty; you are now going to Jesus." She said in a whisper," Yes: I am light, light.' After this, she spoke no more. I now went to my father, and acquainted him with her state: he returned with me, and prayed; but her marble features were now fast setting in death. We had not long risen from our knees, and were standing waiting the awful, or rather happy, moment, when her soul should leave its tenement of clay to join its gracious Redeemer, when one deepdrawn sigh informed us that her immortal part was fled. I took hold of her clay-cold hand, but her pulse had ceased to beat, and her happy soul had, we |