On our first Sabbath in the Holy Land, our tent had been pitched in the vicinity of a colony of ants.  It was in the tribe of Simeon we were encamped; it was the scenery of the Promised Land we had around us; and one of the similitudes of the blessed word was illustrated within our view.  He opened his Bible at Prov. 6:6-8, and, as he read, noted—­“I. Consider her ways. Most souls are lost for want of consideration.  II. The ant has no guide, overseer, or ruler; no officer, no one to command or encourage her.  How differently situated is the child of God!  III. Provideth her meat in the summer, etc. Some have thought that this teaches us to heap up money; but quite the reverse.  The ant lays up no store for the future.  It is all for present use.  She is always busy summer and winter.  The lesson is one of constant diligence in the Lord’s work.”

Many a time in these days, when our attendants in the evening were driving in the stakes of our tent and stretching its cords, he would lie down on the ground under some tree that sheltered him from the dew.  Completely exhausted by the long day’s ride, he would lie almost speechless for half an hour; and then, when the palpitation of his heart had a little abated, would propose that we two should pray together.  Often, too, did he say to me, when thus stretched on the ground,—­not impatiently, but very earnestly,—­“Shall I ever preach to my people again?” I was often reproved by his unabated attention to personal holiness; for this care was never absent from his mind, whether he was at home in his quiet chamber, or on the sea, or in the desert.  Holiness in him was manifested, not by efforts to perform duty, but in a way so natural, that you recognized therein the easy outflowing of the indwelling Spirit.  The fountain springing up into everlasting life (John 4:14) in his soul, welled forth its living waters alike in the familiar scenes of his native Scotland, and under the olive-tree of Palestine.  Prayer and meditation on the word were never forgotten; and a peace that the world could not give kept his heart and mind.  When we were detained a day at Gaza, in very tantalizing circumstances, his remark was, “Jehovah Jireh; we are at that mount again.”  It was sweet at any time to be with him, for both nature and grace in him drew the very heart; but there were moments of enjoyment in these regions of Palestine that drew every cord still closer, and created unknown sympathies.  Such was that evening when we climbed Samson’s Hill together.  Sitting there, we read over the references to the place in the word of God; and then he took out his pencil and sketched the scene, as the sun was sinking in the west.  This done, we sang some verses of a psalm, appropriate to the spot, offered up prayer, and, slowly descending, conversed of all we saw, and of all that was brought to mind by the scenery around us, till we reached our tent.