they should understand that the best writers on scripture natural history are of opinion that the citron is the tree referred to in the places where "apple" occurs in our translation. The size, beauty, fragrance, and virtues, of the citron, all give it claims above the apple, which in Palestine is not a tree of great beauty or much value. The apples used in Palestine are chiefly brought from Damascus, their own trees not yielding fruit of

sufficient excellence.

The Lilac (Syringa vulgaris) is now in flower, and the beautiful Persian Lilac (Syringa Persica) also. In Palestine, and the countries adjoining, these elegant trees are great favourites. They were brought to this country early in the sixteenth century, and are now spread over the

entire land.

The Sweet Bay is in bloom this month, and also the Box; all of which should be preserved.

Of smaller flowers we may name the garden Hyacinth (Hyacinthus orientale), which is a native of Syria; and the grape Hyacinth, as common in the fields of that country. Lamartine tells us that he found the Hyacinth growing in great abundance in the plains about Mount Lebanon; and Schubert says,"Whoever desires to see views really extensive and beautiful, and lilies, tulips, hyacinths, and narcissuses, must in the spring visit this district (the valley of the Jordan and neighbourhood of the Lake of Gennesaret); where, also, the garlic assumes a size and beauty which might render it worthy of becoming an ornamental plant in our gardens."

The Violet is also found in Syria, and, with the Narcissus and the Hyacinth, is in flower in the Holy Land in the month of February.*

The Crocus, Narcissus, and the early Tulip may now be gathered. The Narcissus grows in great abundance all over Syria, and a particular kind is cultivated near Aleppo, in the open fields. These are gathered by the Arab women when in bloom, and basketsful of them carried through the streets for sale. It is very pleasing to hear these women chant, as they walk along, a sort of hymn of praise to the good and bountiful God who has so clothed the earth with beauty.

The common white Dutch Clover (Trifolium repens) is another Palestinic flower, and grows wild in

the beautiful vale of Sharon. Here Munro found it making the ground literally white with its blossoms, and inviting the presence of innumerable bees.

Some of the Mesembryanthemums, or Fig Marigold, are natives of Syria; and one known as the Knot-flowered, and called by the Arabs Ghasool, is there burned for the sake of the soda, or barilla, which its ashes contain. The ashes of this and another very common species in Syria are thought by some to be the substance referred to in the scriptures under the term translated "Soap." Dr. Kitto speaks of these plants as very abundant in the deserts of Arabia, where they give, by their cheerful colours and varied foliage, a peculiarly lively aspect to the country.

* Dr. Kitto's" Pictorial Palestine."

Oh, you look so thin and pale, mother, somebody would have felt sorry, and so taken me-but nobody knew me, and nobody saw you."

A tear stole down the cheek of the little boy as he spoke, for he was almost discouraged-and when his mother saw the tear, not a few ran down hers also.

It was a cold, bleak night, and Johnny had been out all day looking for "a place." He had persevered, although constantly refused, till it was quite dark, and then gave up, thinking his mother must be very tired waiting for him.

His mother was a widow, and a very poor one. She had maintained herself by needlework, till a severe

'spell of sickness had confined her to her bed, and she was unable to do

more.

She told her little son to sit down by the fire, while she prepared his supper. The fire and the supper were very scanty, but Johnny knew they were the best she could provide, and he felt that he would rather share such a fire and such a supper with such a mother, than sit at the best filled table with anybody else, who did not love him as she did, and whom he did not love as he did her.

After a few moments of silence, the boy looked up into his mother's face with more than usual seriousness. "Mother," said he, "do you think it would be wrong to ask my new Sunday school teacher about it on a sabbath?"

"No, my son, not if you have no other opportunity; and I think he would be a very suitable person, too -at least, I should think he would be interested in getting you a good place."

"Well, to-morrow is Sunday, and when the class breaks up, I believe I will ask him."

After reading a portion of God's holy word, the mother and her little boy kneeled down together in their loneliness, and prayed the Lord most earnestly to take care of them and provide for them. They were very poor-but they knew that God cared for the poor. They knew, also, that God would do what was best for them. Oh, it is a sweet thing to the soul, to be able to say sincerely, "Thy will be done."

"I feel happier now," said John. "I was so tired when I came in,

that I felt quite cross, know I did -did I not look so, mother?"

The mother's heart, also, was full, and she gave her boy one long, affectionate kiss, which was sweeter to him than many words.

Next morning was the sabbath. Johnny's breakfast was more scanty than ever, but he said not a word about that, for he saw that his mother ate very little of it. But one or two sticks of wood were left outside the door where it was kept -and he knew that both food and fire might all be gone before night. They had had no money to buy any with for several days.

The sabbath school bell rang. The sun was shining bright and clear-but the air was exceedingly cold. The child had no overcoat, and was still wearing part of his summer clothing. He was in his seat just as the superintendent and his teacher entered.

"Who is that little pale-faced boy in your class?" asked the superintendent of the teacher.

"His name is Jones-he lives in Stone-street, and I must visit him this week. He is very regular, and a well-behaved boy."

"I wish to know more about him, and will see him after school."

The superintendent did not forget him, and when the classes broke up, seeing him linger behind the other scholars, he went up and took him by the hand kindly.

"You have been here to school several sabbaths, have you not, my boy?" said he.

"Yes, sir, I came just a month ago to-day."

"Had you ever been to school before that time?"

"Yes, sir; before mother was taken sick I used to go to street school, but that was a great way off; and when mother got better, and you opened this new school, she advised me to come here; it is so much nearer."

"Well, did I not see you yesterday, looking for a place in Water-street?" "I was down there, sir, looking for a place."

"Why did you not take that place, which the gentleman had for you, in the large grocery store?"

"Do you mean the store where the great copper worm stood on the side walk?"

"Yes."

“Ah, sir, I did not know they sold rum there when I first went in, and when I saw what kind of a store it was, I was afraid."

"Have you a father?"

"No, sir, father is dead;" and the little boy hung down his head.

"What did your father do, my son what business was he in ?" "Sir, he once kept a large store like that," and the child shuddered when he answered.

"Why did you not keep the piece of gold money that you found on the floor, as you were coming into the store?"

"Because it was not mine, sir; and I thought that the gentleman would find the owner sooner than I would."

"He did, my boy, it was mine. Did you get a place yesterday?" "No, sir, all the places were full, and nobody knew me."

"Well, my boy, you may go now -and tell your mother that you've got a place. Come to see me early in the morning-your teacher will tell you where I live."

Johnny went home with his heart and eyes so full that he could hardly see the street or anything else as he

went along. He knew that it would cheer his dear mother very much, and so it did. His superintendent procured a good place for him, and they were made quite comfortable and happy.

Surely this story carries its own moral.-Mother's Magazine.

IN a certain village, more remarkable for its rural beauty and sequestered quietude than for the rank or number of its inhabitants, there were two schools of some respectability, where boys were boarded and educated on reasonable terms. One of these stood on the high ground, and was called Hill-top Academy; while the other, which occupied a spot in the valley below at the distance of half a mile, went by the name of Low-grove Establishment.

In the Hill-top Academy, a highspirited boy of the name of Douglas was a leader among his companions. He was tall of his age, and much looked up to by his fellows. The leader of the Low-grove boys was one Davy, short and square made and very strong. Somehow or other a feud took place between Douglas and Davy. Perhaps the only reason for the quarrel was that Douglas belonged to the Hill-top school and Davy to Low-grove. Greater people have fallen out about causes equally trifling.

It was not long before the chieftains came to blows, and very desperate was the encounter, for as one was the taller, and the other the stronger, each obtained some advantage over his opponent. While the battle raged, some of the surrounding spectators raised the cry, "A Douglas and a Davy!" and thus increased the rancour of the strife. Each party claimed the victory, Douglas retiring with a black eye, and Davy with a bloody nose. This is the usual course of battles; they begin without reasonable cause, and end with loss to all that engage in them.

Douglas, taught by experience that Davy was stronger than he, determined to be more than a match for his rival by setting up a stick. "What is that for, Master Douglas?" said old Arnold, a servant living up at the hall; "better be at peace." "The way to preserve peace," said Douglas, looking very wise, very resolved, and very much like a hero,