ndria in Egypt, and thence proceeding onward to
Palestine by the way of the desert, we found ourselves set down on a
new stage of experience. Mr. M'Cheyne observed on the silence of the
desert places: "It is a remarkable feeling to be quite alone in a
desert place; it gives similar feelings to fasting; it brings God
near. Living in tents, and moving among such lonely scenes for many
days, awake many new ideas. It is a strange life we lead in the
wilderness. Round and round there is a complete circle of sand and
wilderness shrubs; above, a blue sky without a cloud, and a scorching
sun which often made the thermometer stand at 96 deg. in our tents. When
evening came, the sun went down as it does in the ocean, and the stars
came riding forth in their glory; and we used to pitch all alone, with
none but our poor ignorant Bedouins, and their camels, and our
all-knowing, all-loving God beside us. When morning began to dawn, our
habitations were taken down. Often we have found ourselves shelterless
before being fully dressed. What a type of the tent of our body! Ah!
how often taken down before the soul is made meet for the inheritance
of the saints in light." To Mr. Bonar of Larbert he writes: "I had no
idea that travelling in the wilderness was so dreadful a thing as it
is. The loneliness I often felt quite solemnized me. The burning sun
overhead,--round and round a circle of barren sand, chequered only by
a few prickly shrubs ('the heat of the wilderness,' of which Jeremiah
speaks), no rain, not a cloud, the wells often like that of Marah, and
far between. I now understand well the murmurings of Israel. I feel
that our journey proved and tried my own heart very much." When we
look back, and remember that he who thus stands on the sandy desert
road between Egypt and Palestine, and looks on its singular scenery,
is one who but lately was to be found busy night and day in dealing
with the souls of men in the densely peopled streets of a town teeming
with population, we are led to wonder at the ways of the Lord. But is
it not a moment which may remind us that the God who sent Elijah to
the brook at Cherith is the same God still? and that the wise,
considerate, loving Master, who said, "Come into a desert place and
rest awhile," is as loving, considerate, and wise as He was then?

At Balteen, a small village in Egypt, I well remember the indignation
that fired his countenance, when our Arab attendants insisted on
travelling forwa