IN SUNNY GLOUCESTERSHIRE 
85 
day, and in another by night. . . Whence comes the 
breath you draw, the liglit by which you perform the actions 
of your life, the blood by which your life is maintained, the 
meat by which your hunger is appeased? . . . The true 
God has planted, not a few oxen, but all the herds on their 
pastures throughout the world, and furnished food to all the 
flocks; He has ordained the alternation of summer and winter 
. . . has invented so many varieties of voice, so many notes 
to make music. . . . We have implanted in us the seed 
of all ages, of all arts ; and God our Master brings forth our 
intellects from obscurity.” 
Nature fills the heart — not only with joy and wonder — but 
with gratitude, and I am sure that, however we may differ in 
politics, in theology, in science, in our views and ideas of life, 
we all feel our heart full with the delight of spring and the 
promise of summer. 
Our subject is infinite, but I must not detain you by weak 
words from the keen delight of observation. Our excellent and 
indefatigable Secretary, Mr. Webb, has prepared for us a rich 
store of exhibits, for which in your name I thank him, and to 
which in the name of the Society it is now my privilege to bid 
you welcome. 
IN SUNNY GLOUCESTERSHIRE. 
A Reminiscence. 
A joy oi sight, that still abides with me, 
A kingfisher, resting on a tree — 
Above a stream. 
A tangled garden, more weeds than flower.', 
But red with honeysuckle of Nature’s bowers — 
Like joy and grief. 
A brook, where large-eyed love flowers grew ; 
Skimmed by the May-flies of brightest blue — 
Forget-me-not blue. 
S. A. Steward. 
EXT to the tranquil, yet ever cheerful scenery of 
pleasant sylvan Buckinghamshire, that of Gloucester- 
shire appeals most nearly to my fancy. 
Dear to my recollection is that of a calm, untroubled summer 
holiday, once spent at Inchbrook in the latter county — a sleepy 
little hamlet, comprised of a few straggling cottages. 
Inchbrook is near Woodchester, where the well-known Order 
of Preachers has its abode. The Dominican Priory, with its 
pretty and happily situated little church on the brow of the hill, 
gives an added interest to this charming spot. 
On the quiet leafy high road, between Inchbrook and Wood- 
chester, but nearest the former — there stands — or stood, for it is 
some years since I was there — surrounded on three sides by a 
