I have been blessed with the gift of tongues several times before the Island Saints made any inquiry about it, but they always spoke of enjoying the Spirit when tongues were given. They had not that gift among themselves, though they had heard Sister Helen Smith speak in tongues. One day while Mr. Burton and Alfred Langford, the president of the Tarona Branch, were talking of the gifts of the gospel, Alfred made the statement, "Why is it, that Erma (Emma) speaks by the Spirit in languages that she does not know, and yet can not speak in our language? Why does not the Lord cause her to speak in our language, that we would understand without it being interpreted?"

My husband said he did not know why, other than her gift was to speak in unknown tongues, and to speak in the Tahitian language would not be an unknown tongue, for she knew the language when it was spoken, I. E., knew what language it was, and also knew some words, could form a few broken sentences.

"We don't doubt, " said Alfred, "that the tongue is from the true Spirit, for we can feel it, but we would like for the Lord to cause her to speak in our language."

About a week after the above conversation, the gift of tongues rested upon me again, and I exercised it freely and joyously. Many of the Saints present knew that it was a Polynesian tongue, but only one understood it. A man by the name of Taiai after the meeting said, "That was the language of my island." He was a native of Penrhyn Island, about nine hundred miles northeast of Tahiti. He was greatly pleased, as well we were all the natives, for although the tongue was not that spoken on Tahiti, it was a native tongue, and one that I did not know, nor had I any possible way of learning it. Therefore all doubts, if any had existed, in regard to the genuiness of the gift, would have been overcome. Shortly after that the Lord satisfied them entirely in their desire by causing me to speak in their own language. Now, I had several times borne testimony very briefly in broken Tahitian; some could understand what I intended to say, and some could not. This time I refer to, and several times after, the said I spoke the plain, pure Tahitian that could be understood. It was unknown to me, whether it was the true Tahitian or not, only I knew that the words came readily without my mentally translating English into Tahitian, as I usually did. It was a different manifestation of the Spirit, since it was neither to me know, or an unknown tongue, but was spoken by the Spirit and with the understanding, for I knew what I said and said the things I desired to.

One other experience in speaking in tongues, not long before we left the islands, stands out brighter than all others in my life. It was one of our regular Tuesday evening prayer meetings. I felt unusually happy during those first few days of the week, and commenced to tell them of it in their own language. After getting fairly started, there came such a rush of words because the power of the Spirit rested on me, that I could not speak Tahitian fast enough, nor was it sufficiently expressive, and it seemed to me as if I had stepped from a rough road to one on which I glided along as smooth as silver. Oh, how pleasant it was to talk in such a sweet, beautiful language, no like the ordinary unknown tongues! The whole house was filled with the Spirit, and I had two distinct experiences while thus talking. One was as if a live coal had been laid upon my heart, that burned similar to that of a coal of fire, yet without the smart. The other was that I saw a soft, white cloud suspended just below where the ceiling should have been, and overspread the entire room, as far towards the upper end of the room as the congregation was sitting. I saw it, whether with my natural or my spiritual eyes I know not, descend gradually, about one foot, perhaps, in thickness, until it partly enveloped the head of each person. Before it touched them some were sitting straight, some leaned forward, some heads were lower than others; but when this beautiful white cloud rested upon them, all were brought on a level, and I knew by the Spirit that every spirit within the room was brought in harmony with the Spirit that filled the room, and realized that it was a taste of the power of God, or the "world to come," that will bring all things into subjection to itself. The brethren and sisters were so filled with the Spirit, that they could scarcely wait their turn to speak and testify of the power and happy influence of the Spirit. Mr. Burton readily gave the interpretation, being filled with the Spirit, also. It was a song of praise to God, and a pleading entreaty to the natives to put from them all that was evil, all that hindered them from receiving the greater power of God among them, hindered them from receiving the blessings the Lord desired to bestow upon them as a people. When we had reluctantly left that consecrated place and returned to the missionary house, Joseph said, "Oh, that was beautiful!"

I could find no better words to reply in than, "It was heavenly." My heart was still aglow with the holy fire that did not vanish immediately, but gradually grew less, until the close of the third day it was scarcely perceptible. The Spirit will bear its own witness to this instance, for the writing of it has revived the warmth and glow in my heart, witnessing to me that the "live coal from off the altar" did not go entirely out. —Autumn Leaves, December, 1908.