has been symptoms of a gracious revival. Lord let us have it,' seems to be the cry of every soul. This fall we had a quarterly camp meeting in the woods; and the Sabbath evening was the most blessed I have seen for years. There were more than forty mourners came to be prayed for, at the invitation of brother Mononcue. This old Indian chief seemed as if he could not live, he was so overwhelmed with the love of God. I think he could say with the poet

"Tis grace that supports me,
Or glory would crush me.'

A good number experienced the blessing of forgiveness that night, and some the next morning. The parting exceeded all that I have ever seen. Their prayers, groans, and shouts, were all mingled together, all over the camp ground. Here were the parents and children folded in each other's arms, and giving glory to God for the gift of Jesus Christ and his blessed Gospel, that had pierced their ignorant and guilty souls. One of our sisters, being filled with the love of God, came and took me by the hand, and said in her own language, (for few of them speak English,) 'I thank the Great Spirit with all my heart for Jesus: I thank Jesus for you. He sent you, and God's children sent you, to tell us about heaven. I thank God my children have heard it, and some of them are in heaven already, and I too shall soon be with them.' Indeed, sisters, it is not uncommon to hear more or less of this every Sabbath at prayer meetings, and especially at class meetings. Thanks be to God and his children, for the benefit of the Gospel! Now I do know, that if any member of your society could stand without the walls of the meeting house, and hear these

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children of the forest chanting their soft and holy lays in songs of praise for redeeming grace; could you see them sitting wrapped up in their blankets, listening to the Gospel with streaming eyes, and thanking the Great Spirit for the good news of salvation, you would never think of becoming lukewarm in so glorious a work. You would labor for the sake of the thousands that yet are starving for the lack of knowledge, and the thousands that may yet be born to God, and will make vocal the solitary places with his praise. These you may never see, until you meet them in glory. Never think of relaxing your zealous labors. I often have felt as if I could throw my last coat into God's treasury.

"We have upwards of two hundred in societytwelve leaders, and three exhorters, all men of the wood. The classes are regularly attended and profitable. On the Sabbath day our house of worship is crowded, and great attention and the best order generally prevail.

"Our school, at present, contains fifty-seven native children; and we expect, by Christmas, to add a few more to the number.

"We are still scarce of beds and bed clothes, and the winters are excessively cold. About twenty of the children belong to class, and some of them are truly pious. They are peaceable and quiet; and many of them learn fast. The last annual conference passed a resolution for the traveling preachers, or as many as could find good places, to take each one of the largest boys for six or eight months, to learn the English language more perfectly. There would be but little difficulty to christianize and civilize these wild men, if the Christian world acted towards them as they ought. But this, I am persuaded, will never be the case.

"I am authorized to state to you, and through you to your respected society, that your children in this place, whom yours, and other societies with you, have taken out of the dark and cold, and brought to your fire-side, and warmed, and fed, and clothed, all return you their warmest thanks for having taken pity on them and their children; and they hope you will help them by your prayers and other means, until they can stand alone, and help themselves. Then they will try to help others, as you have helped them.

"They thank you, and I join in thanks to God and his Church, for all the benefits, temporal and spiritual, which have been bestowed on these, my Indian brethren. Indeed, I would think it no shame to beg for them on my knees.

"I hope you will still hear the voice from the wilderness, Help us,' not only with your goods and money, but with your fervent prayers. However it may appear to others, it seems clear to me, that if God's people would perseveringly ask, the time has come when he will give the heathen to his Son for an inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his possession.

"You may wish to know how I feel in my own soul. I bless God, though I am unworthy, I love God; and, although cut off from many privileges, I have happy moments and joyful seasons in this place. My cares, tears, and trials, are almost without number; but glory be to Jesus, he is with me. He is my unchangeable friend, when my way seems stopped up. I think the Lord's people are praying for me; and though I have never seen you in the flesh, yet God knows I love you for Christ's sake, and hope to meet you in our heavenly Father's kingdom.

"My love to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ and missions.

"I am, with every sentiment of respect, yours sincerely, J. B. FINLEY. "Mrs. Ann Chubb, Pres't, and Mrs. Catharine G M'Nair, Sec'y F. M. S., Philadelphia."

CHAPTER XIV.

Robert Armstrong-His capture when a child-Brief notice of his life His character-Usefulness-Death-Author appointed SubAgent for the Wyandotts-Correspondence on that subject-Discharges its duties gratuitously-Letter from a Juvenile Missionary Society-ReflectionsExhortation to the young-Condition of the mission-Efforts of traders to entice the Indians to intemperance→→ Severe reproof to makers and venders of ardent spirits-Scuteash seduced by the traders, and led into incurable drunkenness-Unsuc cessful attempts of the author to reform him.

THE mission suffered great loss this year in the death of Robert Armstrong, one of its best interpreters. This man was taken prisoner by the Indians about the year 1786, when a boy about four years old. His parents resided a few miles above Pittsburgh, on the bank of the Alleghany river. On one Sabbath morning, when nature was spreading forth her glory, and all the feathered tribes were basking in her zephyrs, and warbling their melodious notes in praise to the Father of mercies, a young man, with little Robert, took the canoe, and crossed the river to visit a camp of Corn-Planters, (Indians,) and then return. This camp was supposed to be four miles from the river, on a path leading farther into the forest. On their journey they were dubious of the wild Indians, (as they called them,) for they were constantly watching for their prey. But softly did they tread the path until they gained the camp. It seems that these friendly Indians, who resided on the Alleghany, were down at Pittsburgh, trading for flour and other articles, and the man that took Robert with him, had some, which he wished to trade. After they had made their visit, and were returning home, in passing a thick brush, through which the path led, they heard a noise, and stopped to look; and to