THE HE oil olive is a priceless possession to the countries in which it grows. It supplies food for man, and light for his dwelling. Oil, it has been said, is now almost a necessary of life to many millions of Europeans and Asiatics. Of the abundant growth of the olive tree in Palestine in other days, we have evidence not only in the frequent references to it by the sacred writers, but also in the accounts which travellers give us of the remains of the ancient olive groves which are still to be found in the Holy Land. The Mount of Olives, dear to the heart of all God's people, and surrounded with precious memories of Him who loved to walk in its solemn groves, and who there passed through the agonies of Gethsemane, derived its name from the olives which grew luxuriantly upon its sides.

Speaking of the garden of Gethsemane, a recent writer says, "Those eight old

olive trees, with their enormous girths and fantastically gnarled branches, were really the only objects that we looked upon. They can be historically certified as twelve hundred years old; and as it is one law in the natural life of the olive that it sprouts again after it has been cut down to the level of the ground, there is nothing improbable in the imagination that those patriarchal olives may have grown from the very trees which shaded the place of the Redeemer's agony and bloody sweat.'

Job and Micah speak of rivers of oil. Among King David's officers, mention is made of Baal-hanan the Gederite, who was over the olive trees and sycamores that were in the low plains, and of Joash who was over the cellars of oil.

To this day, the oil which is yielded by the olive, forms an important article of commerce; and it is not uninteresting to notice that the annual import of that

article into Great Britain, amounts very nearly to two millions sterling. It comes to this country from France, Italy, Greece, and Turkey. Of the two last it is a native, but in France and Italy it was originally an exotic, and its naturalization there has been the result of patient skill and perseverance, rewarded bountifully now by these countries producing the finest and best oil in the market.

The olive tree grows to the height of from 20 to 30 feet. It has a small whitish flower which it bears in such rich profusion, that the tree seems to groan under this wealth of beauty. Job says, 'The wicked shall cast off his flower as the olive.' The fruit is something like the plum or peach; the first or virgin oil of a greenish tint being obtained by gentle pressure from the pulp or flesh, and inferior kinds of oil from both flesh and stone together. The beauty of the olive tree lies in the green foliage. David says, 'I am like a green olive tree in the House of my God;' and Jeremiah speaks of a green olive tree, fair and of goodly fruit. M'Cheyne and Bonar say,

There is something strongly indicative of health and vigour in the fresh look of a flourishing olive tree, but especially when a grove of them is seen together, and the sun shining on their glossy leaves. The foliage is of a deep and peculiar green; and under a passing breeze the uppermost leaves turn round and show a fine silvery line.' Usually silent and deserted, the olive grove presents an animated scene late in the year when the fruit ripens. Picturesque groups of men, women, and children in bright coloured garments, are busy among the trees. Gathered in part by hand, the bulk of the crop is shaken to

the ground, and sometimes beaten from the trees. In the wise poor laws of the Jews, it was provided, 'When thou beatest thine olive tree, thou shalt not go over the boughs again;' teaching consideration and kindness for the poor of Israel.

The olive tree was not difficult of culture in the warm climate of Palestine, and an abundant harvest rewarded the toil of the cultivator. Yet God often withheld the

crop from his rebellious people; and more than once they were told that, as a punishment for their sin, their olives should cast their fruit. Happy indeed it had been for that people if, when the labour of the olive failed, they could with the prophet Habakkuk have said, 'Yet in the Lord will I rejoice; I will joy in the God of my salvation.' Earthly joys and earthly treasures may depart, but God's love and God's kindness never can depart from His children. In all our wanderings He is near; and in the hour of our deepest need He comes with the message of love, giving first such help as we need. Wearied and worn and perishing from thirst, Hagar may indeed lie down in the wilderness to die, but God's love can wake her up and open her eyes to see the well of waterBeer-lahai-roi-the well of Him that liveth and seeth me. And so she gets new strength for life's duties and God's service. And is it not so always? God gives us health and strength, that like the olive tree we may bring forth fatness, wherewith others may honour God and man. not all who are privileged to bring forth much fruit, but God seeks fruit even from the youngest. And of those who wait upon Him He has promised that gleaning grapes shall be in them as the shaking of an olive tree; two or three in the top of the uppermost bough, four or five in the outmost fruitful branches thereof.

OIL.

Read Mat. 25. 1-13.

It is

Lamps useless without oil. Ex. 27. 20. Mat. 7. 22, 3. Zech. 4. 1-6.

Oil must be continually supplied. Lev. 24. 2-4. Heb. 4. 16.

Oil must be fresh. Psa. 92. 10. Lam. 3. 23. Has healing properties. Luke 10. 34. Jam. 5. 14. Nourishes and strengthens. Deut. 8. 8. Ps. 63. 5. Makes machinery, hinges, or locks, move smoothly. Eph. 4. 3. Psa. 133.

(Bible Emblems and their Lessons.")

DA

in the year 1583. He was Professor of Divinity, first in Glasgow, and then in Edinburgh, a very learned man who wrote many grave and learned books. Yet many will remember him best as the author of a

quaint hymn, half translation, half paraphrase, known long ago in Scotland. The hymn in certain parts is too rude and oldfashioned to be read without a smile. It is one of those many sets of verses, suggested by a very old Latin hymn,

written by Bernard de Morlaix, a monk of Clugny in France, and which took the heart of Christendom, and has held it all the centuries since. Every one knows it even now through the familiar hymn, 'Jerusalem, my happy home'—but this is much modernized. It does not much resemble the version which David Dickson wrote:

'O Mother dear, Jerusalem,

When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?
O happy harbour of God's saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!

In thee no sorrows can be found,-
No grief, no care, no toil.

O God, that I Jerusalem

With speed may go behold;

For why? the pleasures there abound
Which here can not be told.
Thy turrets and thy pinnacles
With carbuncles do shine,

With jasper, pearl, and chrysolite,
Surpassing, pure, and fine.

Thy houses are of ivory,

Thy windows crystal-clear,

Thy streets are laid with beaten goldThere angels do appear.

Thy walls are made of precious stone, Thy bulwarks diamond square, Thy gates are made of Orient pearlO God, if I were there!

Jehovah, Lord, now come away, And end my griefs and plaints;

Take me to Thy Jerusalem,

And place me with Thy saints.

For we that are in banishment

Continually do moan;

We sigh, we mourn, we sob, we weep,
Perpetually we groan.

Our sweetness mixed is with gall,
Our pleasures are but pain,
Our joys not worth the looking on,
Our sorrows aye remain.
But there they live in such delight,
Such pleasure and such play,
That unto them a thousand years
Seem but as yesterday.

O my sweet home, Jerusalem!
Thy joys when shall I see?
Thy King sitting upon His throne,
And thy felicity?

Thy vineyards and thy orchards,
So wonderfully rare,

Are furnished with all kinds of fruit,
Most beautifully fair.

Thy gardens and thy goodly walks
Continually are green;

There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers,
As no where else are seen.
There cinnamon and sugar grow,

There nard and balm abound;
No tongue can tell, no heart can think
The pleasures there are found.

There nectar and ambrosia spring,
The music's ever sweet;

There many a fair and dainty thing
Are trod down under feet.

Quite through the streets with pleasant sound
The flood of life doth flow;

Upon the banks on either side

The trees of life do grow.

There David stands with harp in hand
As master of the choir;

A thousand times that man were blessed,
That might his music hear.

There Mary sings "Magnificat,"

In tunes surpassing sweet;

And all the virgins bear their part,
Singing about her feet.

"Te Deum" doth St. Ambrose sing,
St. Austin doth the like;

Old Simeon and Zacharie,

Have not there songs to seek.
There Magdalene hath left her moan,
And cheerfully doth sing

With all blest saints, whose harmony
Through every street doth ring.

I long to see Jerusalem,

The comfort of us all;
For thou art fair and beautiful,
None ill can thee befall.'

One can scarcely understand how such a hymn was written by a Presbyterian minister in the days when Presbyterianism was held through such a hard strife. And yet the low whiney knowes of Irvine, and the little heaps of yellow sand, and the long green shimmer of sea that gleamed out and out to the west, would make a quiet musing-place, and an oratory wide enough to let the soul leap free of its trammels, and be glad in the great past.

David Dickson was ordained minister of Irvine in the year 1618, and for twentythree years of his life he laboured in the little sea-town on the Ayrshire coast.

It was not a quiet ministry. Four years after his ordination, he was cited by the Archbishop of Glasgow to appear before the High Commission Court, and answer a charge brought against him. His sentence was pronounced by the Archbishop in these words:

'We deprive you of your ministry in Irvine, and ordain you to enter in Turiff in the north in twenty days.'

But the Earl of Eglinton interceded for him. He could not be spared from that shore. And so for a time he abode in the castle of Eglinton, and preached in the castle court to crowds who came from near and far. A second order of the Archbishop deprived him of the shelter of the Earl. And for nearly a year he remained in the banishment of Turiff.

But the continued intercession of the Earl restored him to Irvine, and with new earnestness he resumed his ministry in his old parish. His earnestness touch'd all the people, and thrilled all the burn-sides and the knowes, passed down the quiet Stewarton waters which never was thrilled so before. The people came from all its nooks, crowding to hear the great preacher-the Stewarton Sickness men called it-that fever of strange new desire. Yet David Dickson would say, while he welcomed all who came, that the vintage of Irvine in his time was not equal to the gleanings of Ayr in the time of Mr Welch.'

About the year 1650 he was removed to Edinburgh, and there he lived till many sorrows fell on Scotland. So that his heart was broken with the heavy change on the beautiful face of this once-famed Reformed Church.'

In the end of the year 1662 he was very ill.

'I have taken all my good deeds and all my bad deeds,' he said, and have cast them together in a heap before the Lord, and have fled from both to Jesus Christ, and in Him I have sweet peace.'

105

pronounced the words of the Apostolical blessing with much gravity and solemnity. Then putting up his hand he closed his eyes, and, without any struggle or apparent pain, immediately expired in his son's arms; and, like Jacob of old, was gathered to his people in a good old age, being upwards of seventy-two years.'

'I

H. W. H. W.

HOME LESSONS ON THE COMMANDMENTS. WHATSOEVER THINGS ARE PURE. KNOW the text, mamma,' said little Alice, 'It was THINK ON THESE THINGS.' "That was the text, dear; but can you tell me anything Mr B- said about these words?'

He said that the way to speak right words, and to do right things, is to think good thoughts.'

All the sermon was about the things we should think on,' added Charley. The verse names six things, and the sermon was on the last three:-"Whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report."

God's law alone can control our thoughts. That is the great difference between it and human laws. Human laws may control our actions, but God's law alone can rule our thoughts.'

'But, mamma, how can we make ourselves think good thoughts?' asked Nelly.

'We must ask God to help us, and we must carefully watch against evil thoughts. Have you forgotten what Mr B- told us we should do, Nelly?'

He said that one way to help us to think rightly was to read good books and avoid bad ones; and he told us of a boy who became very wicked by reading bad books. A companion lent him some works which he knew his good father would never have allowed him to read, and he read them secretly till he lost all taste for the Bible, ran away from his home, and went far astray.'

'And then,' Charley added, he told us that the best way to get pure thoughts in our hearts was to read and think of the