quite cold, I declare!' said the little delicate thing, shivering, 'I wish I had stayed in bed a few days longer; bowever, now I am here I suppose I must stay.' The sun good-naturedly came out more brightly than ever; and some sparrows, who were watching for crumbs on the wall, hopped about and chirped away famously, doing their best to welcome the new comer. But the chesnut was in no humour to be pleased. What a dismal place this is,' it said to itself; how different to the lovely park where I was born; there all the trees were so tall and so green: there was some sense in their trying which could grow the largest, but there is none here. What is the use of my putting out more leaves if I am to have them covered with smuts like those poor stunted plants I see round me?" 'Tweet! tweet! tweet!' cried the sparrows. They meant that for good morning,' but the chesuut only tossed its few poor leaves, and looked haugh tier than ever. I was so tired of waiting, I began to fancy it was never coming: but do you think it will live, papa ?' 'I hope so, my dear; though it looks rather delicate.' · Is there anything I can do for it, poor little thing?" 'Not at present, only I hope we shall have no more of those severe frosts, or else I fear you will lose it even now, Mary.' The chesnut trembled at the very However it was cerword frost.' tainly much more reconciled to its new home. Had I grown up in the park,' it thought, there would have been no little girl to take care of me; really I am quite sorry I am looking so ill, all owing to my bad humour too; I must try and get quite green again by tomorrow.' Every day little Mary came to look at her chesuut, and she soon had the pleasure of seeing it grow taller and stronger. To be sure there was one night of hard frost, when it got sadly the sun came out the next morning it nipped and pinched; however, when revived a little, and by the time the summer was come it was a strong and went by the chesnut grew taller. It beautiful plant. And, as the years 'Where I came from,' it went on, 'we heard nothing from morning till night but the most exquisite singing of birds; and must I, who used to was true smuts did sometimes fall on hang close to a thrush's nest, be content to shelter these stupid little spar-visited its branches; but then as it it, and no birds except sparrows ever rows, who cannot sing for the life of them? And the chesnut grew quite yellow with vexation and disgust. Just then, a little girl came out of the house to which the garden was attached. She walked round the paths till she came to the chesnut. There she stopped, and after surveying it for a few moments, ran back into the house clapping her hands and crying, Oh papa, papa! do come and look; my chesnut has come up!' Then the little plant began to feel quite ashamed that it was looking so yellow. It would have been worth while, certainly, to have done its best to please so charming a little creature. Presently she came out again with her рара. said. You were right after all, papa,' she 'Yes, another time you will trust me, Mary grew older it grew wiser, and instead of grumbling at what was inevitable, it managed to look green in spite of all. Now Mary loved her tree very much, she watered it with her own hands; and though both Mary and the tree grew together, she seemed quite pleased when it out-stripped her. At length there came a hot, dry summer, when no rain fell for many weeks; and then the poor chesnut did feel almost tempted to repine, when in spite of all its efforts the city smoke would rob its loveliest leaves of their spring brightness. But what most troubled it was, that Mary had ceased her accustomed visits to the garden. Day by day passed, and she never came; the chesnut could not make out how it was. But it had by this time grown so tall, that at last it reached quite to the parlour window. Peeping Scripture Illustrated.-Ashamed of the Oaks, &c. in, it saw-ob sad, sad sight!-Mary lying on the sofa, with closed eyes and such a white, thin face. The chesnut felt very sorrowful, and hoped she would look that way, that she might see it ouce more. And it was not disappointed, for by and bye she opened her eyes, and it thought it heard her say, Papa, I wish you would open the window; I fancy I can see my chesnut.' Her father did so. Is it not beautiful?" she said. 'How it has grown. I am so glad to see it once more.' How proud and pleased the chesnut felt! and the afternoon sunlight, falling upon its leaves, made it look as bright as ever. It grew now as fast as possible; but though every day the tree gathered fresh strength and beauty, Mary only grew weaker. One day she said to some friend who bad come to see her, 'I cannot read much now, but I like to sit and look at my tree, it is so green and beautiful; it reminds me of the country where I am going.' 13 that he had not withered away on that first morning of its discontent. Very soon after this Mary died. She had lain quite still all day with her hand in her father's, and her eyes fixed either on the bright blue heavens or her chesnut tree. When they closed, she was gone beyond the sky, to that land where the Tree of Life is growing. Then the shutters were shut in the house, and the poor chesnut felt very lonely. But as the starry night came on, and the evening dews fell, a tender thrilling passed through all its leaves. The chesnut had resolved, come what would of sorrow or pain, always to do its best and never to despair, whatever difficulties it might have to encounter. For years after Mary's death it grew, till even in the park from which it was taken there was no finer tree. I do not know of what use the chesnut tree became afterwards, but I am sure that even after it was cut down, it was doing some good. My little children, if you are ever tempted to grow tired of doing right, remember the story of the chesnut MAUD. How thankful the chesnut was then, tree. Scripture Illustrated. ASHAMED OF THE OAKS, &c. For they shall be ashamed of the oaks which ye have desired, and ye shall be confounded for the gardens which ye have chosen.'-Isaiah i. 29. Then shall ye know that I am the Lord, when their slain shall be among their idols, round about their altars, upon every high hill, in all the tops of the mountains, and under every green tree, and under every thick oak, the place where they did offer sweet savour to their idols.'-Ezekiel vi. 13. NOT only, says Dr. Thomson, twenty five years a missionary in Syria and Palestine, did the heathen delight to build temples and rear altars on the tops of the mountains, but they worshipped their idols under every green tree, and especially under thick oaks. They do so still, in a modified form. These oaks under which we now sit are believed to be inhabited by Jan and other spirits. Almost every village in these valleys and on these mountains (the region immediately southwest of Mount Hermon) has one or more such thick oaks, which are sacred from the same superstition. Many of them are believed to be inhabited by certain spirits called Benate Yacobe, daughters of Jacob'-a very strange and obscure notion. The common people are afraid of these inhabited trees, and when they pass them, hang on the branches a rag torn from their clothes, as an acknowledgment of their presence, and a sort of peace-offering to avert their anger. I have seen scores of such thick oaks all over the country, but could never obtain an intelligible explanation of the notions or traditions upon which this wide-spread custom is based. It has rather seemed to me to be an indistinct relic of ancient idolatry, which the stringent laws of Mahomet banished in form, but could not entirely eradicate from the minds of the multitude. Indeed the Moslems are as stupidly given to this superstition as any other class of the community. Connected with this notion, no doubt, is the custom of burying their holy men and so-called prophets under these trees, and erecting mazars, or shrines to them there. All non-Christian sects believe that the spirits of these saints love to return to this world, and especially to visit the place of their tombs, nor can we restrict our remark to the heathen. It is difficult to distinguish between this and the belief or feeling which lies at the bottom of all saint-worship. Isaiah speaks of a time when the people shall be ashamed of the oaks which they have desired.' May that day speedily dawn. It implies the spread of light and knowledge. No sooner is a man's mind even partially enlightened by the entrance of that word that giveth light, than be becomes heartily ashamed of these oaks, and of his former fear and reverence for the beings supposed to inhabit them. I have witnessed some ludicrous displays of daring enacted about these old trees by Protestant Arabs just emancipated from this degrading superstition, and I can point you to many respectable poeple who have been all their lives long, and are still, held in bondage through fear of these imaginary spirits. SUMMER & WINTER HOUSES. I will smite the winter house with the sumNow the king sat in the winter house, in the ninth month; and there was a fire on the hearth burning before him.'-Jeremiah xxxvi. 22. JEREMIAH speaks of a winter house in which Jehoiakim sat in the ninth month, with a fire before him on the bearth; and Amos mentions both winter and summer houses. Such language is easily understood by an Oriental. In common parlance, the lower apartments are simply el beit,the house, the upper is ulliyeh, which is the summer house. Every respec mer house,' &c.-Amos iii. 15. table dwelling has both, and they are familiarly called beit shetawy and beit seify,-winter and summer house. If these are on the same storey, then the external and airy apartment is the summer house, and that for winter is the interior and more sheltered room. It is rare to meet a family that has an entirely separate dwelling for the summer. King Jehoiakim was therefore sitting in one of the inner apartments of his palace when he cut up Jeremiah's prophetic roll with his pen-knife and cast it into the fire.-The Land and the Book THE BARREN FIG TREE. And when He saw a fig tree in the way, He came to it, and found nothing thereon, but leaves only, and said unto it, Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward for ever. And presently the fig tree withered away.-Matt. xxi. 19. And seeing a fig tree afar off, having leaves, He came, if haply He might find anything thereon; and when He came to it, He found nothing but leaves; for the time of figs was not yet.'Mark xi. 13. THERE is a kind of tree that bears a large, green-coloured fig that ripens very early. I have plucked them in May, from trees on Lebanon, a hundred and fifty miles north of Jerusalem, and where the trees are nearly a month later than in the south of Palestine; it does not, therefore, seem impossible but that the same kind might have had ripe figs at Easter in the warm, sheltered ravines of Olivet. The meaning of the phrase, 'The time of the figs was not yet,' may be, that the ordinary season for them had not yet arrived, which would be true enough at any rate. The reason why Jesus might legitimately, (so to speak) seek fruit from this particular tree at that early day was, the ostentatious display of leaves. The fig often comes with, or even before the leaves, and especially on the early kind. If there was no fruit on this leafy tree, it might justly be condemned as barren; and hence the propriety of the lesson it was made to teach-that those who put forth in profusion only the leaves of empty profession are nigh unto cursing. The objection that this tree did not belong to the Saviour, and therefore he had no right to take the fruit, is answered by a reference to the Mosaic Wayside Gleanings -The Greatest Wonder, &c. THE FATHER OF SUCH AS DWELL IN TENTS. Gen. iv., 20. 15 law in such cases. Josephus thus expounds it: You are not to prohibit those who pass by, when your fruits are ripe, to touch them, but to give them leave to fill themselves full of what you have.' And the custom of plucking ripe figs as you pass by the THIS Biblical form of expression is still orchards, is still universal in this coun- very common in Syria. Any one who try, especially from trees by the road should now invent tents, or the cusside, and from all that are not en- tom of living in tents, would be called closed. And after the feast of the the father, not only of tents, but of Cross,' which occurs in September, the tent-dwelling; indeed, the Arabs call a figs that remain on the trees are com- person distinguished for any peculi. mon property, and the poor have per- arity the father of it. Thus a man mission to enter the orchards and with an uncommon beard is named gather all they can find. This singu-abu duku, father of a beard; and Dr. lar custom seems to have come down Thomson often heard himself called from remote antiquity, and is in beau-abu tangera father of the saucepantiful correspondence with the spirit of because the boys in the streets fancied more than one of the precepts of his hat resembled that black article of Moses.-Ibid. kitchen furniture. Wayside Gleanings. a happy issue against such dreadful odds. THE GREATEST WONDER WE | ventures of a voyage brought to such SOME time ago a vessel entered one of Yet there is never a bark drops anchor in heaven, nor a weary voy ger steps out on its welcome strand, but is a greater wonder. Knowing what we know, and feeling what we feel, how entirely may we acquiesce in the old saying-the greatest wonder we shall see in heaven will be to see ourselves there.- Guthrie. THINGS THAT FRIGHTEN US. And the Lord said unto Moses, Put forth thine hand, and take it by the tail.-Ex. iv. 4, Moses was one of the most remarkable men in the Old Testament. His life was a scene of chequered change. He was born in trouble, cradled in danger, schooled in splendour, educated in solitude, and called to heaven in mystery. Like all other great men, he was disciplined in the midst of difficulties, and sanctified in the midst of sufferings. We have him here in the presence of something that frightened him. Let us learn a lesson from the circum-, which truth warrants and would occastances. sion. I.-That in passing through the duties of life, we often meet with things that frighten us. Moses did. Once it was a man, now a serpent. These may be taken as types of difficulties we all meet with in passing through life. 1. Hard lessons. 2. Hard labour. 3. Hard living, &c. IL-That fleeing away through fear is not the way to put to flight things that frighten us. Moses fled from before it.' But still it remained a serpent. Such a course could not alter its form or character. III. That there is a right way to deal with things that frighten us. Put forth thine hand, and take it by the tail.' Still less is such a supposition possible when the Book in which alone He has formally declared Himself, is meant for and announced to be adapted to the masses, the unlettered, those whose time is too much occupied, and whose reasoning powers are too undisciplined to excogitate doctrines and meanings not lying upon the surface, and not suggested by the common sense signification of language. Now, if these premises be granted, then it follows: 1. That Christ died for all,every unit of the world's population; bore away the world's sin, and gave to God a ransom for every man. This is So with hard lessons, hard labour, hard living, hard fighting; if we flee away in fear we shall only make mat-proved by the language of Scripture ters worse. 'Resist the Devil, and he respecting the extent of the atonement, will flee from you.' Examples, Jonah, the will of God as to its beneficial Elijah, &c. issues, and the consequent universal publication of the Gospel message, and the duty of all and every one to believe and be saved. 2. The admission of the premises necessitates also the belief that the Spirit of God, the Lord and Giver of life, operates commensurately with the extent of the atonement and the objects of the Divine compassion. No one, not a trained theologian, would ever deduce from the plain express language of Scripture, that the Spirit does not reprove the world of sin,' does not strive with man,' does not will all men should be saved,' does not draw all men Christ;' for that would be to contradict the literal and repeated testimonies of the Spirit to His own work and will, and to represent that the Most Holy and True can There is no difficulty but there is a way out of it, and no furnace but there is a way through it. With a right method, and strong resolution, the hardest lesson can be learned, the hardest labour performed, the hardest living endured, the hardest fighting sustained. ་ IV. That if we don't know the right way to deal with things that frighten us, there is One who does. The Lord said unto Moses,' &c. The Lord is, 1, Allseeing; 2. All-wise; 3. All-powerful. Let us be, 1. Penitent; 2. Prayerful; then we shall be, 3. Powerful to overcome all difficulties, and to put to flight the things that frightened us. H. unto palter with us in a double sense, Keep the word of promise to the ear, and Break it to the heart." PLAIN FACTS FOR PLAIN FOLKS 3. The admission too, would establish ON SOME GREAT TRUTHS. It is impossible to imagine that God, the God of truth, can deceive his creatures or make use of language which to a plain, honest, painstaking, and reverential mind should prove deceptive, establishing a false opinion, and leading to a style of thought and a line of conduct the opposite to that the position that man may and does will or nill his own salvation, i.e. is not necessitated to will by an overpowering constraint of God, but accepts the Divine gift freely, of his own accord, although not without Divine teaching and persuasion. It is impossible to read the appeals, remonstrances, complaints, protestations, commands, and threatenings, and consider the uniform tenor of Scripture, and yet doubt that |