understand doctrine. There is such a thing as "winning without the word" (1 Pet. iii. 1). I speak of things within the reach of all who have the will to do something for God. I might say more. I might speak of the good that might be done everywhere by trying to teach the ignorant. I might speak of help that might be given to charitable and religious societies, merely by making them known. Thousands of pounds might be got for home and abroad, if only men who cannot give themselves, would ask others to give. Let every one wake up, rub his eyes, look round him, and see if he cannot do something. THE TWO VETERANS. Two of earth's brave and noble ones Two of her best and boldest sons- Of daring deeds for glory done, From youth's fresh glow to manhood's prime He lavished health, and strength, and time. And men declared his work well done, Bestowed the laurels valour won; Gladly they gave his meed of praise, And cherished his declining days. The other's tale was stranger still, Though he had never known the skill By which to gain a well-fought field, With weapons such as warriors wield. He early joined another train, To fight where swords and spears are vain ; He passed all earthly riches by, And waved the Saviour's banner high. He never grasped at worldly things, His Captain was the King of kings; Heedless of danger, doubt, or dread, He followed where the Master led. He scaled the strongest haunts of sin, In hope some guilty soul to win; Inhaled the poisoned vapour's breath, To comfort weary ones in death. He trod, as few would dare to tread, Where plague and fever count their dead; He ventured all, from youth to age, To brighten nature's darkest page. Yet still he labours-strength declined, And still he taxes heart and mind; No grateful country bids him cease, And spend his latest days in peace. And bitter thoughts sometimes arise, Which shut the future from our eyes; The spirit, in its hour of pain, For all shall reap what now they SOW. Newport, Isle of Wight. The Questioner. ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS IN THE SEPTEMBER NUMBER. XXXVI. terebinth (Pistachia terebinthus). "A wise son maketh a glad fa- When doctors disagree who shall ther," Prov. x. 1. decide? Amon, Isaiah, Gideon, Hosea, Kish, Andrew, Matthew. Answered by M. J. M.-Helen V. K.-Phebe K.-W.-H. H. H.— Andrew M'C.-J. M.-G. W.-Mary -R. H. P.-W. M. H.-A. E. S. B. -Edith H. T.-E. W. S.—Excelsior-A. E. R.-Jeanie-AddieReily and Alfred—E. L. S.—Stanley and Alexander-J. B. W. J. F.S. L. and G. J.—T. L. R.—A. R. S. (one wrong). XXXVII. 1. The "hill of Bashan." We must not, however, confound these oaks of Bashan with our common English oak (Quercus pedunculata). They differ widely. That of Bashan (Q. agilops?) seldom reaches thirty feet in height, and is by no means remarkable for strength or for beauty. Some three or four species of oaks are found in Palestine, and all severally alluded to in various parts of the Scripture. The curious reader will find much useful information respecting them in Dr. Thompson's "Land and the Book" (pp. 243 and 267-8), and also in the "Biblical Dictionary," article "Oak." 2. By the ancient Tyrians. Ezek. xxvii. 4. Jacob, under "the oak which was in Shechem." Query-Was this a sacred grove? See Gen. xxxv. 4. 5. See Amos ii. 9. This comparison, perhaps, may be regarded as comparative, as the Palestinian oaks are by no means remarkable for their strength. Possibly they may have deteriorated with lapse of centuries since the above passage was written. 6. Isa. i. 30. If this be an oak it must be one of the deciduous kind, Q. agilops, for example. I fancy a terebinth is more likely to be the tree referred to. The small lanceolate leaves of the latter tree fall every autumn, and leave the tree in a most bare and desolate plight. H. POCKLINGTON. [Without endorsing all the views of our friend, we give the above as a specimen of a thorough answer, such as we should always be pleased to receive.-ED.] Correctly answered also by A. E. R.-E. L. S.-S. L. and G. J.R. H. P.-Edith H. T.-E. W. S. -Excelsior Reily and AlfredMary-A. E. S. B.-G. W.-S. R. See Phebe K. W.-Helen V. K.M. J. M.-Addie. 3. Modern critics are not agreed upon the question as to the species of the tree from which Absalom was suspended. Dr. Thompson has no doubt that it was from an oak. The writer of the article "Absalom" in Dr. Smith's Dictionary, on the other hand, asserts that it was from a XXXVIII. 52 lbs. And by E. L. S.-R. H. P.-Helen V. K.-Phebe R. W.G. W.-Jeanie-S. L. and G. J.G. R.-G. T. G. (very neat)-D. G. M., jun.-W. W. The others are incorrect. THE TREE-FROGS IN THE COACH. -Mr. Buckland tells the following amusing story:- "Returning from the University of Giessen, I brought with me about a dozen green tree-frogs, which I had caught in the woods near the town. I started at night on my homeward journey by the diligence, and I put the bottle containing the frogs into the pocket inside the diligence. My fellowpassengers were sleepy, old, smokedried Germans; very little conversation took place, and after the first mile every one settled himself to sleep, and soon all were snoring. I suddenly awoke with a start, and found all the sleepers had been roused at the same moment. On their sleepy faces were depicted fear and anger. What had waked us all up so suddenly? The morning was just breaking, and my frogs, though in the dark pocket of the coach, had found it out, and with one accord all twelve of them had begun their morning song. As if at a given signal, they one and all of them began to croak as loud as ever they could. The noise their united concert made seemed, in the closed compartment of the coach, quite deafening; well might the Germans look angry; they wanted to throw the frogs, bottle and all, out of the window, but I gave the bottle a good shaking, and made the frogs keep quiet. The Germans all went to sleep again, but I was obliged to remain awake to shake the frogs when they began to croak. It was lucky that I did so, for they tried to begin their concert again two or three times." FIRST SCENE. of a densely populated manu- This upper chamber was rented by one of the many families who now [DECEMBER, 1866. inhabited the dilapidated building, and with a small apartment adjoining, used formerly as a closet, served for the accommodation of Jacob Franklin, his wife, two daughters, and a boy of four years old; and within the last three days an infant son had been added to the family. By a rusty, fireless grate sat Jacob Franklin, the weaver. He had his working dress on, but he had no work to do, and his face wore the vacant, disconsolate expression of a man accustomed to active employment, suddenly deprived of it. sister; and this might be explained from the fact that she had until the last month resided, in comparative comfort, with an aged grandmother in Cornwall, whose death had thrown Letty as somewhat a burden on the weaver's resources at the very time when he was the least able to support those already on his hands. Six o'clock! Half an hour's more work, and the shirt would be done; but would the candle hold out as long? It was doubtful. "You'll work your life away, Rachel," said a faint voice from a The boy of four years sat on his bed in a corner of the room. No, knee. He was vainly trying to com- not a bed surely, that heap on the fort him with warmth, for lack of floor, covered with old cloaks and food, and telling him stories in an coats, but still clean and tidy? undertone, of the country where he Yes, that was the only bed in that lived when he was a boy, of the pigs upper chamber, and the mother of and the cow his father kept, and of the family lay there with her infant. his own chickens and rabbits. A girl of sixteen sat by the light of a poor candle, stitching very hard, every now and then lifting herself up wearily, and pressing her hand against her side, as though in pain; but she did not murmur, and there was a calm, peaceful look on her pale and somewhat sallow face. She stitched as if for her life; and, indeed, it was nearly come to that. The labour of those thin hands was almost all that the poor weaver's family had to depend upon for bread during the last three weeks, in which Franklin had been out of employment. A plainer, rougher girl, some three or four years younger, was engaged in shoebinding. She had but recently learned it, and at present was slow and inexpert. There was less of patient endurance on her countenance than on that of her elder "Oh no, mother," was the cheery answer; and the girl motioned to her father to carry the cup of gruel, cold now and tasteless, to her mother's bed. She could not spare the time. He did so. She feebly thanked him, and was soon asleep, exhausted and faint. "Six o'clock ! We shall never get done to-night," said Letty, the younger girl; and as she spoke a joyous peal of bells arose from a neighbouring church tower, echoed by other belfries, until the whole town seemed to be rejoicing; but it made the sorrowful yet more sad. "Why do the bells ring?" said the cold, hungry boy on his father's knee. "Hush! don't talk loud, because of mother; they are ringing because it is Christmas eve." "I don't know why they should do that," said the little shoebinder. |