UNCONSCIOUS INFLUENCE. ONE day a boy was tormenting a kitten, when his little sister said to him, with tearful eyes, "O Philip, don't do that, it's God's kitten." The words of the little one were not lost; they were set upon wheels. Many serious thoughts were awakened in his mind regarding the creature he had before considered his own property. "God's kitten-God's creature-for he made it." It was a new idea. The next day, on his way to school, he met one of his companions beating unmercifully a poor starved-looking dog. "Don't do that," said Philip, using almost unconsciously his sister's words; "it is God's creature." The boy looked "Never mind," ashamed, and explained that the dog had stolen his breakfast. said Philip, "I will give you mine, which I have in my basket ;" and sitting down together, the little boy's anger was soon forgotten. Again had a word unconsciously been set upon wheels. Two passers-by had heard Philip's words; one a young man in prosperous business in the neighbouring town, the other a dirty, ragged being, who, in consequence of his intemperate habits, had been dismissed by his employer, and was now going home sullen and despairing. "God's creature," said the poor forlorn man, and it was a new idea to him also; "if I, too, belong to God, he will take care of me, though no one else will." Just then, he came to a public-house, where he had been in the habit of drowning his miseries, and then staggering home to inflict new ones on his wife and children. He stopped; the temptation was strong, but the new idea was stronger-"I am God's creature ;" and he passed on. His wife was astonished to see him sober, and still more when he burst into tears, and declared he was a ruined man, but that he was determined to give up drinking, and trust in God, At that moment a knock was heard at the door, and the gentleman came in to whom we have before alluded, He, too, bad been rebuked by the boy's words, for the scorn and loathing which he had felt to the miserable object before him. "God's creature-therefore entitled to help and pity." He had gone to help the poor man; and all this the result of a little girl's words to her brother! CAMEROONS, WESTERN AFRICA. IN the HERALD for August we gave our young friends a view of the interior of the chapel at Cameroons, and we now give them a view of the exterior, together with the teacher's dwelling; and although many changes have been made since this sketch was taken, the house and chapel are in appearance very much the same. We are the more willing to give this picture of the past, as from the present state of decay, and the destruction caused by the wood ants, the chapel is fast falling, and must speedily give place to a larger and more lasting building. This frail chapel can seat only two hundred bearers; but it is in constant use. Throughout the week the school children assemble for instruction twice a day; on five evenings in the week a meeting is held for reading and prayer; and on the Sabbath day four meetings in succession fill up the hours of the day of rest. At seven in the morning the congregation meet for the first public service; at ten o'clock the Sabbath-school takes the building; at three the second public service for the native preaching; and at seven in the evening a public service in English for those who cannot join in the native worship. The preaching in this later service is maintained chiefly by those who have not yet acquired the native tongue. Our missionaries are hoping to get their new chapel before the old one falls to the ground. Efforts are now making to provide the needed materials. Some thousands of bricks are already prepared, and more are making. When the time comes for building we doubt not but half the labour required will be freely given by the lowly ones who worship there. Assistance will be wanted from the friends of Africa for this work; and we are quite sure our young readers will be pleased to help in building a chapel so much needed. The sheds seen on the left hand are chiefly erections of bamboo, and formed a temporary shelter for the missionary, and also various offices for the printers, carpenters, and blacksmith. These sheds have long since been removed, and in their place stands the new mission-house, which we hope will be the quiet home of a faithful missionary for many many years to come. This little picture reminds us of another change; for between the past and the present has come the vigorous growth of tropical vegetation. While our friends have been so earnestly endeavouring to sow the good seed of the kingdom of God, they have not been forgetful of the advantage to themselves, and to Africa, of introducing and cultivating fruits and vegetables; and so it comes that at this day, in the foreground of our picture, stands a noble mango-tree, very lofty, and which twice a year is laden with its delicious fruit. The breadfruit and the cocoa-nut trees would not be excluded from a sketch if taken now. Let our young friends earnestly pray that the converts to Christ in that land may be very many, and that they may grow and bear the fruits of righteousness. "TAKING MAGGIE'S PLACE:" A STORY FOR GIRLS, IN TWO CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I. THE diamond-shaped panes of a little window that peeped out upon a corner only of Mr. Yarrow's garden were almost covered with shining rain-drops, as a child, carrying a heavy footstool, and a letter with a foreign post-mark, put aside a white muslin curtain, and sat down to read and think. It was not yet dark out of doors; but the vine which hung round the casement shut out so much of the evening light that Patience-so was this thoughtful little maiden namedwas obliged to look very closely at her big sheet of news, especially where a few lines had been written across others with a trembling hand, and, as the writer said, "in haste." "Dear Maggie!" cried Patience, as she contrasted this little postscript with the four clearly written piges that went before it: "I shall never see her any more till we meet in heaven. Never any more till then! Oh, Maggie! Maggie !" Her head lay on the window-bench beside the letter, and her tears fell almost as fast as the rain-drops pattered. She was very sad, for her thoughts were of parting and death, and she was young. But at last, by a very great effort, she checked her sobs, and sitting upright on the wooden footstool, began to watch for the return of her uncle Yarrow, whose custom it was to enter by a side-door in the garden, when, as most frequently happened, he came home tired and hungry to the fireside which, as Patience said so often, was worse than dull "now that Maggie and Charles were gone." She was scarcely anxious, to-night, to see her uncle; for although she knew that he would feel a deep interest in her letter, she almost wished that it were possible to hide it from him, and go on as if it had never come at all. It would be so terrible if he, too, began to talk of Maggie as going from them; he who had hitherto been so confident that southern air would be the means of her restoration to health and vigour. As she sat there in the gradually deepening twilight, with her eyes fixed on the gate, and her ear strained for the quick, familiar step, Patience sometimes wondered why she-a person of so little note-was spared, and Maggie, so valued by every one, removed. "I should not have been missed," she thought; "but Maggie-oh, how dull and miserable it is without her!" and thereupon she would have sobbed afresh, had not a clicking sound in the papered wall beside her driven the colour from her cheeks, and made her heart beat wildly. "There it is again!" said Patience within herself: "that dreadful noise!" Dreadful or not, it was there; and as the room was by this time full of shadows, Patience, though not really "If uncle John would but come!" sighed the watcher, as after a few minutes' rest the sound was heard again. "How the wind howls; and how dark it is! Oh, Maggie!" She was almost afraid to bow her head, lest one of those queer-looking shadows, which she knew to be Maggie's cloaks and dresses hanging wrong-side-outermost against the wall, or tall, high-backed chairs, keeping guard beside the bed which Maggie had been wont to share with her, should come forward and startle her; but after a while she determined to hide her face, and repeat a prayer which her sister had taught her one evening long ago, when she, Patience, then a very wee child, had been crying for a candle" to light her," as she said, "to sleep." The little prayer-so simple that I almost think you would smile if I gave you the words-brought a blessing to Patience Yarrow; and for the next quarter of an hour she sat still amongst the shadows, though the wind, rising, flapped the vine-leaves against the window, and waved to and fro the laburnum trees in the garden. It was to be a stormy night, she thought, as the |