shone, and when Paul's grandmamma called him up, oh, what fun he and Carlo expected to have! Paul was a little boy who prayed. He did not allow the glad looks of the world out of doors to take all his attention; he knelt down and asked God to keep him His child all day, and make him obedient to his dear good grandmother, who took care of the little orphan. To school he ran; at school he tried to study hard, only he could not help every now and then looking out on the common and thinking of noontime.

After school he scampered home to get Carlo, with a couple of boys at his heels. Grandmother heard him, and she called, "Paul! Paul!" Paul went to her, and oh! she had a big skein of woollen firkin to hold! Poor Paul! poor Carlo! What did the little boy do? The

boys at the door heard what was going on, and they whispered pretty loud, "Come, come! tell your old grandmother you want to go out and play!" Carlo, too, wagged his tail, as much as to say, "Yes, that is it, little master!" It was a tough struggle for poor Paul. What did he do?

"Grandmother first," said he, stoutly; "my play can wait better than her spinning-wheel."

Grandmother winds her ball rather slowly for a boy who wants some fun. But no matter. He is determined to be patient, for well he remembers she is as good a grandmother as ever was to him.

The sweet spirit of obedience runs like a golden thread through the daily life of the little boy, and so very sweetly their lives unwind together. · Child's Paper.

THE EXILE.

ERY soon the little Mission station, with such rude wealth as it had, became an object of covetous desire among the chiefs. Darker and darker grew their rivalry for the protection of the mis

sionary property, till at last open war ensued, and in the bloodshed and ruin the devoted band, flying from friends and enemies alike, were at last driven into exile. Every trace of the station was swept away, and in 1809 the lovely island of Tahiti was again a blank in the

Christian map. Good men's hopes were dashed to the ground, and on the fine scene of so many hopes, blackened ruins were all that stood up to tell the tale.

THE RETURN.

Two years after, Pomare began to yearn for the white teachers to set foot on his shores again, and five of them accordingly, in revived hope at the tidings, left New South Wales, where they had taken refuge, and returned. Pomare was recalled to the chieftainship of the whole island. God's Spirit, it appeared, was pricking him to the heart, and the old lessons he had learned from the Gospel began to shew their fruit. He inquired, was anxious, inquired again, and finally, after long and deep trial, he was, at his own request, baptized into the Christian Church. The name of Christ was set on his swarthy brow, and with that strange light struck, it seemed at length the darkness was about from the beauteous island to roll away. A great awakening followed. Idols and temples of old worship were destroyed-many converts fol

lowed in the steps of Pomiare

and the groves rang with praise and prayer. It looked as if the cross was planted in the soil of Tahiti deep and sure.

THE PRAYER IN THE THICKET.

-

One day Mr. Scott, one of the missionaries, overheard a poor native, named Oito, praying in a deep-screened thicket. It was a touching sound this first native prayer he had ever listened to-poured out in simple glowing words. He could not contain hin:self-he burst into tears; and then, breaking through the screen. he clasped the dark-faced child of God to his heart. He, and that trembling soul just coming into the dawnthey were brothers in the blood of Jesus!

A FUNERAL PILE.

The little Church grew in numbers. Young and old were added to it daily. Among these was one named Patii, who had been a priest, and who openly declared he meant to burn his idols. The time was fixed, and a great crowd assembled to behold the daring deed.

Shortly before sunset a light was applied to the pile, and Patii stripped them of their ornaments one by one, and cast them into the fire-call ing each by name, unfolding the pedigree of each, and telling all that each in turn was a poor useless god, unable to save itself! scene was hailed with applause-and Dagon after Dagon was cast down. Patii, the bold priest, became an ardent pupil in the Christian school.

GARMENTS ROLLED IN

BLOOD.

The

Yet again the storm gathered. Idolatry bestirred itself, and an armed host rose against the missionary labours. For a time the white men and their converts were driven off Tahiti again, and on their venturing to return their escape was narrow indeed. Noiselessly the foe assembled in the dark woods,

and on a Sabbath-day, while the quiet worship of God was proceeding in the Mission chapel, out the savage throng burst, hounding each other on with demon yells. But the worshippers had come armed, and when the onslaught was made, a desperate fight took place. Not a few on both sides were slain; and after a long struggle, at last the idolaters were driven back and utterly broken. Pomare and his party triumphed; and as a mark of what the mercy of Christ had already wrought in them, it was noted that, instead of mangling the wounded and the dead, as in heathen days had been their wont, they spared and tended the one, and solemnly buried the other. The Gospel in Tahiti had now received its ancient baptism of blood, and it was about (as in other lands), under that watering, to grow into a noble tree.

Saviour, and throw

them out

at the window, hop

ing He would find them. La

ter in life,

SO strong

was his

Christ, and in his own need of that friendship as his daily solace, that once, when travelling,

he sent back his

companion,

that

he

might con

verse more

freely with "the Lord," with whom

he

spoke

:

EN every side I saw more beauties than I can describe :daisies, cowslips, primroses, along with more uncommon flowers, and I perceived gardeners at work in all corners of the garden. I watched them, and I saw how they removed every weed that might injure the plants, how carefully they tied up those that required support, and how diligently they tried to

keep away the evil insects. In spite of all their care, some of the plants would not grow in the way they desired; they would bend their heads and twist their stalks, 80 that I almost wondered at the patience of the gardeners.

I perceived that it was in general the largest and tallest plants who persisted in growing in their own way, and refusing the support