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The body of the mountain, like almost all the heights adjoining it, is of a deep red or flesh-coloured granite, the grains of felspar being not so large as in the Theban granite. At the highest point, however, it terminates in white granite, extremely fine in the grain, and containing comparatively few particles of hornblende or mica. It is thus literally, as well as poetically, the 'gray-topped Sinai' of Milton. A small sprinkling of the debris of porphyry or clay-slate, or thin layer of the clay-slate itself, resting upon the granite, is visible at one or two points as we go up. The mountain, when looked upon in the mass, appears to the eye almost entirely destitute of vegetation; but a good many plants and small bushes are discovered as you proceed over its surface. In some of the crevices and ravines we found patches of snow, the first on which Mr. Smith and I had trode for many years. To our young Pársí friend, Dhanjibháí, it was entire novelty. Notwithstanding all that he had read of 'congealed vapour' he touched it and tasted it with extreme wonder."

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The whole of that part of Dr. Wilson's book relating to the Great Desert, the Arab tribes, the ruins of the city of the Rock, and also the route of the Israelites through the wilderness, far exceeds in research and in interest what we have found on these subjects in the records of any former travellers. Dr. Robinson, of America, is the only man whose learning and research at all comes within reach of Dr. Wilson, and in various questions connected both with ancient history and topography, the conclusions arrived at by these distinguished authors

are at variance. The errors or omissions of "the Biblical Researches" are pointed out by Dr. Wilson with an authority and freedom which no one else would be qualified or entitled to use. And in most points wherein our author differs from Dr. Robinson, we are persuaded that his criticisms are just, and his conclusions

sound.

gave great facility, and his fame as a learned man procured access to quarters not always open to strangers. The letter of introduction from the Jews of Bombay to the Rabbies of the Sephardim in Jerusalem, is a strange specimen of oriental composition. After long compliments and salutations and benedictions, the letter ends with brief reference to the business in hand.

"We make it known to your reverences that there goes from among us one who is of the men of the English, and who is of the city of Bombay; may it stand for

ever!

And he is a great man, and his name is padre JOHN WILSON. He is highly counted of, and of generous heart. He desires to go to the four districts to perform the pilgrimage. We entreat of you that your reverences may do him honour in every place where the sole of his foot may tread. This will hallow the name of the Lord. For he loveth Israel, and is generous with his property, and sheweth kindness to all Israel. Whatever act of kindness you will do to him, we shall consider as if it had been done to

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"We then expressed our intention to set out for the inspection of Jacob's Well; and a Samaritan lad named Yákúb, As we offered himself as our guide. determined to effect, if possible, an exploration of it, we took with us a supply of wax candles for its illumination, and all the ropes from our boxes, that we might make of it a correct measurement. In the description of the Holy Land, On arriving at the well we found the Dr. Wilson has availed himself of the mouth of it, which is in the middle of the researches of preceding pilgrims, and has ruins of a church by which it was formerly added largely to the stock of original surmounted, covered with two large stones. information. Equally minute and search- These we were unable ourselves to rebut half a dozen sturdy Arabs, ing with others concerning the move ; geographical and physical state of Palestine, his from a small hamlet close by, did the needful for us, in expectation, of course, inquiries about the inhabitants of the land, of a due reward. The opening over the Jewish, Samaritan, Greek, and Mo- well is an orifice in a dome or arch, less hammedan, were conducted with great than two feet in diameter. Our Samaritan diligence, and are of much value. For friend was the first to enter. He held by such researches his skill as a linguist a piece of rope, which we kept in our

hands till, swinging himself across the mouth of the well, properly so called, he found footing on the margin of the excavation over which the dome extends. Mr. Smith and myself, dispensing with the superfluous parts of our dresses, followed his example, the Jew Mordecai and Dhanjibhai whom we thought it expedient to leave without, keeping fast hold of the rope, till, with the assistance of Jacob, we got a firm footing beside him. The Arabs entered one after another without difficulty. All within was hitherto darkness; but by the aid of a packet of lucifers, we lighted our candles, and were able to look down the well to a considerable depth. It was now time to disclose our plan of operation to our native attendants. Jacob,' said we, a friend of ours, an English traveller, and minister, (the Rev. Andrew Bonar, of Collace,) dropped the Five Books of Moses and the other inspired records into this well, about three years ago,* and if you will descend and bring them up, we shall give you a handsome bakshish.' 'Bakshish!' said the Arabs, kindling at the sound, if there is to be a bakshish in the case, we must have it, for we are the lords of the land.' 'Well, down you go,' said we, throwing the rope over their shoulders, 'and you shall have the bakshish.' 'Nay, verily,' said they, you mean to hang us; Jet Jacob do what he pleases.' Jacob was ready at our command; and when he had tied the rope round his body below his shoulders, he received our parting instructions. We asked him to call out to us the moment that he might arrive at the surface of the water, and told him that we should so hold the rope, as to prevent him sinking if there was any considerable depth of the element. We told him also to pull out one of the candles with which he had stored his breast and to ignite it when he might get below. As he looked into the fearful pit on the brink of which he stood, terror took hold of him; and he betook himself to prayer in the Hebrew tongue. We, of course, gave him no interruption in his solemn ex

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"Mr. Bonar engaged a very affable Jew to show him the way to Jacob's Well, who, after leading him through the town, gave him in charge to another that knew the place....The guide removed a large stone that covers the mouth of the low vault built over the well; and then, thrusting himself through the narrow aperture, invited Mr. Bonar to follow. This he accordingly did; and, in the act of decending, his Bible, escaping from his breast pocket, fell into the well, and was soon heard plunging in the water far below. The guide made very significant signs that it could not be recovered, for the well is deep." "Narrative of a Mission of Inquiry to the Jews, pp. 283,

284.

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ercises, as, in the circumstances of the case, we could not but admire the spirit of devotion which he evinced. On a signal given, we let him go. The Arabs held with us the rope, and we took care that he should descend as gently as possible. When our material was nearly exhausted, he called out, 'I have reached the bottom; and it is at present scarcely covered with water.' Forthwith he kindled his light; and that he might have every advantage, we threw him down a quantity of dry sticks, with which he made a blaze, which distinctly showed us the whole of the well, from the top to the bottom. We saw the end of the rope at its lower part; and we put a knot upon it at the margin above, that we might have the measurement when Jacob might come up. After searching for about five minutes for the Bible among the stones and mud at the bottom, our kind friend joyfully cried out, 'It is found! it is found! it is found!' We were not slow, it may be supposed, in giving him our congratulations. The prize he carefully put into his breast; and then he declared his readiness, with our aid, to make the ascent. Ready, however, he was not to move.

He was evidently much frightened at the journey which was before him to the light of day; and he was not slow to confess his fears. 'Never mind,' cried Mordecai to him from the top, on observing his alarm, 'you will get help by the help of the God of Jacob.' He betook himself again to prayer, in which he continued for a much longer time than before his descent. When we got him in motion, he dangled very uncomfortably in the air, and complained much of the cutting of the rope near his armpits; bye and bye he became silent. We found it no easy matter to get him pulled up, as we had to keep the rope from the edge of the well, lest it should snap asunder. When he came into our hands, he was unable to speak ; and we laid him down on the margin of the well, that he might collect his breath. "Where is the bakshish?' were the first words he uttered on regaining his faculty of speech. It was immediately forthcoming, to the extent of about a sovereign, and to his fullest satisfaction. A similar sum we divided among our Arab assistants. The book, from having been so long steeped in the water and mud below, was, with the exception of the boards, reduced to a mass of pulp. In our effort to rethe well, which is exactly seventy-five cover it, we had ascertained the depth of feet. Its diameter is about nine feet. It is entirely hewn out of the solid rock, and is a work of great labour. It bears marks about it of the greatest antiquity. The well is deep,' was the

now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him.' Here, by his perfect knowledge of the human heart, and of the dark events of the woman's life, and by the wisdom, and power, and grace of his words, he so revealed himself as that Messiah whom the Samaritan as well as the Jew expected, that many believed on him, and knew that he was indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world. The earliest notice of the locality of the well, after the time of Christ, is in the Jerusalem Itinerary, A.D. 333. Frequent references to it and to a church which surmounted it, are contained in subsequent writers. Most of these I have examined; but the most important have been collected by Quaresmius and Reland, and referred to by Dr. Robinson. The traditions of Jews, Samaritans, Christians, and Mohammedans agree in its identification."

description of it by the woman of Samaria | the Father.... The hour cometh, and to our Lord. It still, as now noticed, has the same character, although to a considerable extent it is perhaps filled with the stones which are thrown into it, to sound it, by travellers and pilgrims. The adventure which I have now noticed being over, we emerged from the well; and sitting down at its mouth, we could not but think of the scenes and events of other days. We were near to the very 'parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph.' Jacob's well was here! Here Jesus, the Saviour, sat, wearied with his journey, suffering from the infirmities of that lowly human nature which he had assumed, when he came from heaven to accomplish the work of our redemption, which his Father had given him to do. Here he spake with inimitable simplicity and majesty, as never man spake, setting himself forth as the source and giver of the copious and satisfying waters of eternal life. Here he declared that the time was at hand when the whole world should be consecrated as the temple of God, and the spirituality of divine worship manifested in its fullest extent:'Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither at this mountain, (Gerizim,) nor yet at Jerusalem, worship

We hope to find room for occasional extracts from "The Lands of the Bible." It is one of the few books of travel at once of stirring interest for immediate perusal, and of standard authority as a work of reference.

THE GREATER BLESSEDNESS.
"It is more blessed to give than to receive."

THESE were the words of one whose whole life on earth was a series of giving, and who at last gave even life itself, for sinners-for enemies. The words of one who "

came not to be ministered unto, but to minister," who when he did receive, accepted only what was all his own before: "the cattle upon a thousand hills were his." The words of one who gave ten-fold back into the giver's bosom, who in the day that he went to be guest with Zaccheus, brought salvation to his house, and rewarded the woman of Samaria's cup of cold water with everlasting life. The words of him who is "ascended up on high, to receive gifts

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receive we have abundant proof in that exquisite fourth chapter of Philippians. It is a model of graceful receiving. It is truly unselfish. He tells them that he "rejoiced that their care of him had flourished again," "not that he spoke in respect of want, for he had been instructed both to be full and to be hungry," and "not that he desired a gift," but "fruit that might abound to their account." And then he dwells on each enhancing feature of their bounty; he says, no other church communicated with him," and that they "sent once and again," and that when they did not send, they were still "careful, but lacked opportunity."

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He also knew how to enjoy as well as to receive, for he says, "I have all things and abound; I am full." But then it seems as if a few thoughts had passed through his mind, to which he gave no utterance; some feelings and wishes which flowed underground for a while,

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and then issued forth into the light of day; thoughts and feelings and wishes, which said that he would fain be at his old habit of giving again; and because he had nothing of his own to bestow, he falls back on the boundless storehouse of God's grace and power, and says, "But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory."

Perhaps it would not be very easy to assign reasons why it is more blessed to give than to receive, but it has only to be tested, and, like that evidence of the truth of Christianity which arises from the inward experience of its power, it will make us feel and know that it is so. The Apostle had tried both giving and receiving, and his verdict is in favour of the former; he has also recorded our Saviour's infallible decision on the subject. It is then, beyond dispute," more blessed to give than to receive."

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as well as to those who go; thanks to
those who respond to the appeal,
"Here
am I, send me. "If the whole body
were an eye, where were the hearing?
and if those who impart their wealth
only, were to withhold that, much good
to society must necessarily be lost.
have only intended to shew the relative
value of the gifts. And even with
regard to money, the rich who give much,
make no sacrifice in comparison with the
poor who give little, for, generally speak-
ing, they deny themselves nothing; they
only lay up a little less of those treasures
which moth and rust corrupt, or thieves
break through and steal, or which some-
times "take to themselves wings, and fly
away."

There are yet other givers, and other modes of giving. Those who, having wisdom to counsel and direct, and skill to devise, and energy and perseverance to carry into effect, set themselves resolutely to work, thus to help their fellow-creatures, these all give. Being "feet to the lame, eyes to the blind,” lending—

An arm of aid to the weak,

A friendly hand to the frendless :

But what is giving? Opening the purse,
and pouring forth its gold and silver to
the necessitous? Undoubtedly, this is
giving, and in truth money is so associ-
ated in our minds with giving, that it is
the first idea that occurs to us in con-
nexion with it, partly perhaps because of Aye, and even the uttering
its power of being transmuted into the
supply of almost any want. Yet it is
only a small part of giving; it formed
no part of our Saviour's giving, and is
perhaps the least self-denying way of
any. Well, to recur to the question, what
is giving? Leaving country and kindred,
and going to distant shores with the glad
tidings of mercy, spending the remainder
of life in an unhealthy climate, and not
counting even life itself dear, that is
giving. Making a sacrifice of time and
personal convenience and comfort for
the purpose of carrying Christian instruc-
tion and consolation, or temporal aid, to
the abodes of vice and misery, visiting
the prisoner in his cell, and spending
hours in the unwholesome atmosphere of
ragged schools, all this is giving.

Kind words, so short to speak,
But whose echo is endless.

All this is giving and if all this is giving, let none say that they cannot give.

And these acts rank incomparably higher in the scale of giving than the mere bestowal of money does, if it were only on the score of the self-denial they involve. Ask the man of wealth for pecuniary aid in all these undertakings, and he will willingly give his ten, twenty, fifty, or hundred pounds, but ask him to become a missionary, or even to accompany you in your round on visits of mercy, would you for a moment expect compliance? Still, thanks to those who give

And may we be permitted a word upon the manner of giving. Let it be kind and considerate,—appropriate. Have a care of the feelings, for the children of want are very sensitive, perhaps too much so, yet it is ours to consider them, lest in healing one wound we inflict another. Oh yes, hurt not the feelings; it is easy to avoid it by putting ourselves in the place of the recipient. And, perhaps, in all cases the truest and readiest mode of ascertaining what is kind and proper in conduct, would be putting ourselves in the situation of others, and then " doing to them as we would they should do to us," if we were in their place. To persons with whom this practice is habitual, it becomes like an intuition, teaching them to avoid what would be offensive, and leading them to do the very thing, and at the very time, and in the very way, that it ought to be done. Oh, this is an enviable capability!

Let us all be willing to give. What a motive is that presented to us, 66 freely ye have received;" can we receive freely, and give grudgingly? While we are

giving with one hand we are receiving with the other; it must be so, or we should soon be empty. We ought to consider ourselves but as a medium, a channel through which God's bounty flows. What is it that we have not received? It is an honour to be permitted to give some of it back; not, indeed, to God, for "our goodness extendeth not to him," but to his people, "the excellent of the earth: and not only to these, but to his creatures, for he has set us an example here also, in making his sun to "shine on the evil as well as on the good," giving to all "rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with food and gladness."

Let us give during our lifetime; not, indeed, so as to incur any risk of becoming ourselves dependent on others, but as far as is consistent with prudence. In fact, this is the only time in which we can really give; bequeathing, be it ever so kindly and wisely, is but distributing that which we must of necessity leave behind us.

Some people are ambitious of dying rich, but it is a very mistaken ambition; and, perhaps, when the close of life comes it will be felt to be so. It is at best but a posthumous fame, purchased, it may be, by the secret desire for their removal; for it is likely enough, in this selfish world, that people will wish for your death if they hope to be gainers by it. The way to be lamented is to give; and better is it, and greater honour far, to be apostrophised with

“Oh, wha'll fill your place to the puir and the needy?" than to have it said that you died worth a million of money.

And some there are who hoard for hoarding's sake, from the downright love of money. Oh ye rich misers, how wistfully will ye turn your dying eyes towards those gold-filled coffers, and wish that you could empty some of them, that they go not before you to judgment. Begin the work now, for "death stands ready at the door;" and when he enters, all your wishes will be in vain.

And let us be, as much as possible, our own almoners. Beside the satisfaction of knowing that "office cannot clip our bounty as it goes," we sometimes gain such valuable instruction, that the benefit received is greater than the gift bestowed. We often meet with such striking instances of patience and resignation and trust, amidst severe suffering and deep

poverty, that we are ashamed of our own discontent and distrust in circumstances which demand our gratitude and confidence, and go home to look in a new light both on our deserts and our mercies. There is also a real pleasure derived from witnessing the good we do, and though we ought not to prefer taking instead of sending, merely for the sake of receiving the thanks, we may very legitimately gratify our benevolent feelings with the sight of the gladness we have instrumentally put into another's heart. The remembrance of the eager look, the grateful surprise, and the relieved countenance, as we opened our little store of food and clothing, and slipped the week's rent into the hand of the penniless, will go with us all the day, adding happiness to our already happy lot, or beguiling our cares and sorrows, if we have them, and making our lying down and sleep sweet. And what a security for the continuance of our alms-giving, and even of its increase. Satins and jewels will fade and grow dim in the eyes that have seen sights like these, and although the taste may be none the less refined, hearts that have known the luxury of doing good, will not be set upon costly furniture, or elegant ornaments, when brought into competition with these nobler uses of money.

And now, dear reader, perhaps you think it very beautiful, and very interesting thus to give, and so it is; but if you let self-gratification be your only or chief motive, you will often be disappointed, for though all that we have said is true, it is not always so, for as many give in a way that diminishes the value of the gift, so many receive very ungratefully, and then the charm will be dispelled, and it will need principle to enable you to persevere. You must be prepared to "do good and lend, hoping for nothing again;" so "shall ye be the children of the Highest, for he is kind to the unthankful and to the evil."

We have said that Christ's whole life on earth was a series of giving, and from his ascension to the end of time he has been, and will be, giving still; but he shall receive. Already have praises ascended to him from our apostate world; already have we "heard songs

from the uttermost parts of the earth, even glory to the righteous" One, and already are the redeemed spirits above offering ceaseless adoration; yet, all this

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