150 JOURNAL AND PROCEEDINGS. 
Here let me borrow a thought from Shakespeare, which will serve as 
a text and also show us how deeply he contemplated nature. He 
says, ‘“‘That we may find books in the running brooks, sermons in 
stones, and good in everything ;” and to-night I ask you with me to feel 
that it is our privilege and pleasure to open these books, read these 
sermons, and to appreciate the full meaning of their beautiful 
language. 
A very necessary thing to do, I may safely say the most im- 
portant thing for us, is to try to get ina right relationship with the 
scenes we may observe. 
Remember nature herself is ever varying, ever grand, never 
tiresome, always in the right relation. Sunshine makes shadow ; 
clouds, gloom; wind, the bending tree, the drifting snow, the 
scudding sail; rain, the dripping roof, the dreary road, the swollen 
stream. Winter’s snow, summer’s sun—each mood has its natural 
sequence. If we can enter into sympathetic relationship with its 
‘transitions, our reward will be much greater. Bear in mind beauty 
in nature keeps closely sealed to the indifferent gaze, but if you will 
study and reverence her aright, she will reveal beauties that the 
ordinary mind little dreams of. 
Go with me if you please to any of your streams—look at that 
large square rock. At first ’tis nothing but a stone; its flinty surface 
uninviting. But see that delicate grey on the sunny side, observe those 
tufts of velvet moss clinging here and there ; out of its niches the 
most delicate of tiny plants shoot forth their waxy tendrils—a hundred 
beauties reveal themselves if we linger inquiringly by its side. How 
many thoughtlessly pass it by ignorant of it beauties. To them it is 
merely a stone. These thoughts should simplify many things for 
us. For instance, you are going to take an impression of this stone, 
or of a group of such stones, partly embedded in the brook ; the 
water silently gliding by, reflecting their forms ; the overhanging 
foliage mirrored in the crystal waters. Would it be wise, think you, 
to disturb the sweet tranquillity of the scene by permitting one of 
your company to sit in a conspicuous position, looking out of your 
picture with a complacent smile? To lovers of nature and truth 
you would destroy all teelings of serenity and harmony thereby, and 
make your photograph merely a cartoon. 
Again, I would advise those of you who are giving this pursuit 
your more serious attention, not to make an exposure unless you 
