God grant that we may meet In happier times than this, And with thine angel mother dear But should the fearful clouds Which Burmah's sky o'erspread, Conduct the threatened vengeance down, On thy poor father's head. Where couldst thou shelter find? Oh, whither wouldst thou stray? There is a God on high, 'Tis He to whom thy mother prays, Whose love she sits and sings. And to that gracious God, My darling I commend; Be Thou the helpless orphan's stay, Inspire her infant heart, The Saviour's love to know, And guide her through this dreary world, This wilderness of woe. And when in future years, Thou know'st thy father's tongue, These lines will show thee how he felt, How o'er his babe he sung. THE LITTLE SHOVEL. Scraps. pressed great surprise when told that her friends at home were not all Christians. Looking her in the face, he exclaimed, "What gods do they worship, then?" The heathen all have some object of worship, and they know not what to think of those who have no God. Reader, were this Christian Hindoo youth to come into your home and spend a week with you, what impressions would you leave on his mind? Perhaps he might be near you, by night and by day, without dreaming you had a God, until he should see you on a Sabbath taking your seat in the Lord's house. Alas! in how few families of professing Christians even, would he be made to feel that the living and true God was the supreme object of affection! How few, very few, would he find in Christian England, of whom he could say, they do all they do for the glory of God!-Juvenile Missionary Herald. Price 6d. doz., or 3/6 100. Published by GALL & INGLIS, 38 North Bridge, Edinburgh. HOULSTON & STONEMAN, London. much pleased with the present. The noble beast became a great favourite. It was known, however, that the English standard had the figure of a lion upon it; and, therefore, some fancied that the lion and the English were great friends of each other. Now, there had been a warrior called Bardoola, who had never been conquered before, but who was conquered by the English. This seemed very wonderful to the Burmans; and they could not tell how it could happen that so powerful a general should have been beaten. At last, one person after another in the palace began to whisper into each other's ear that perhaps the king's pet lion was at the bottom of it. This notion soon spread amongst the nobles. At length many believed it, and said that the lion was a foreign demon, and that he had helped the English. From that time the noble creature was viewed by them with dislike and fear. At last, some of the chief counsellors told the king what they thought about the beast. But the king did not take notice of what they said, and considered them very foolish for thinking such a thing. By and by, however, his counsellors were so convinced that the lion was the enemy of their country, that, to satisfy them, the king ordered poor Nero to be sent-where other traitors and great criminals were kept -to the death prison. Still his Majesty commanded that the lion should not be killed. But the brother of the queen, who had a very bad opinion of the beast, told the keeper of the prison, that, although he must not kill him, he was to give to the poor fellow nothing to eat; and the keepers did not dare to disobey this man, even to please the king. The lion's cage was therefore made stronger than ever with new iron bars, and it was fastened to the wall of the prison-yard, as if they expected that the starving creature would try to break out of his confinement to get food. And now the struggle began; and it was a dreadful thing for Mr Judson and the other prisoners to see. They had seen men starved to death, in that dreadful place; they had seen them beaten, and smothered, and strangled, and thrust into a pit, and left to be eaten by dogs. But there was something new and very shocking in the starving of a lion. It was terrible to see; it was awful to hear him. Day after day the noble beast, parching with thirst and pining with hunger, struggled to get free; but he only bruised and tore his bleeding flesh against the bars of his iron-bound cage. And his roaring!-it seemed to shake the foundation of the prison. It made the prisoners and jailers fear and tremble. They said it was the British lion struggling against the conquering Burmans. Sometimes, hid by the darkness of night, a kind-hearted woman, pitying the starving creature, would creep to the cage, and put a little food through the bars; but such small morsels only made the poor brute roar and rave more than ever. At length the struggle was over. Death came to the relief of the suffering beast. His skeleton was dragged out of the cage, and was buried with more care than many a human body receives in that dark land. How ig MISSIONS TO THE INDIANS IN GUIANA. norant, superstitious, and cruel must the Burmans have been to have had such thoughts about a poor lion, and to have treated him so barbarously! It 67 is true, indeed, that the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty. Brutes, as well as men, give proof of this. MISSIONS TO THE INDIANS IN GUIANA. NO. VIII.-TRAVELLING. THERE are great numbers of alliga- | tors in the rivers of Guiana. They are very much like crocodiles, and quite as voracious. Their length is generally about twelve feet. One evening as Mr Bernau was sailing with some Indians in a boat on the Essequibo, they landed to catch some game for food. The Indians, in cleaning it, left the entrails on the sand. The smell of these attracted a great number of alligators to the spot, and they could be seen quite plainly by the light of the moon moving under the water. After the Indians had retired to rest, Mr Bernau sat reading under his tent in the boat, without thinking of alligators. But, after a while, he was startled by a strong smell of musk, and knew from this that the creatures were very near to him. Presently one came close to the side of his canoe, drawing his breath, which sounded terrific in the stillness of the night. Mr Bernau started up and drew aside his curtain to get a peep at the monster; but he had sunk below the water. A few minutes after, Mr Bernau felt the boat moving, then the little curtain stirred, and thinking that one of the alligators had got into the boat, he seized a sword which lay near, and had his arm raised to strike, when the 66 thought flashed across his mind, "Perhaps it is one of the Indians!" So he cried, "Who is there?" John," was the answer. "What do you want?" "I see," he answered, "that there are many alligators around you, and I am come to take care of you." You may think how thankful the Missionary felt that he had been prevented from striking that blow! He could not persuade John to lie down again that night; the faithful fellow sat down before the tent, with a spear in his hand, and when Mr Bernau awoke the next morning, there was John still sitting. One of Eric's friends had once a curious adventure with an alligator. He was out fishing, and as the waters of the river were very dark, he took a plan which is common among the Indians. He climbed up a tree which overhung the water; from it he could see the fish below quite distinctly, and shoot them with arrows. However, while this man was drawing his bow, he slipped off the branch and fell into the water, or rather on the back of an alligator. The Indian no sooner found where he was, than he clasped his hands and legs around the alligator's body. The creature set off across the water, no doubt wondering what strange heavy thing was riding on its back. It reached the bank on the other side, climbed up through the bush, which tore the Indian's back dreadfully, then returned to the water, crossed over to the other side again, and attempted to climb that bank to. This being very steep, he was obliged to take it slowly, and the Indian thinking this was a good time to make his escape, threw himself backward into the water, and swimming across, saved his life. I wonder which was the most weary of the journey, the alligator or his rider. Mr Bernau was several times in great danger from wild beasts, but God's care was always over him, so that he got no hurt. When he was travelling in the interior of the country, he was often disappointed by not finding the Indians at home; for they wander from place to place, on hunting and fishing expeditions, so that sometimes, after he had been travelling for weeks together, he would return without finding one family at home. But it was not always so, as you remember from the stories you read in the last chapter; and many a time his heart was filled with thankfulness to God when he found that his words had been like good seed scattered over the wilderness, which took root and afterwards bore rich fruit. MISSIONS IN WEST AFRICA. IBADAN. IBADAN is an African town containing about 60,000 souls, a hundred miles inland from the west coast of Africa. The only Missionaries there are Mr and Mrs Hinderer, and the Rev. J. T. Kefer. Mrs H. has written home a journal of the mission, from which I have now given our readers a few extracts. Let us look into her dwelling-house: "The scene," she says, "would be amusing-in our little native dwelling, with its mud walls and thatched roof, without ceiling, no doors or windows; and yet we feel as secure as if we had bars and locks. People are too much afraid of us to steal, even if they were so inclined. Many comforts surround us, and we are quite as happy as though we were in a palace, though not perhaps quite so comfortable. For instance, it is raining: patter, patter, it comes on your head, and you must move it is soon put to rights again, and as soon you find it coming down in another place. But it is a variety, and often affords a little amusement. It has not spoiled anything yet, and when the roof gets thoroughly soaked -which it will soon do now, as the rain comes in good earnest-we shall not have these disturbances. Now and then a frog hops in to take a survey-but, being taken by surprise, it is generally glad to hop out again, after a little scream from me--and some long, wormlike looking things, with at least a hun |