give a beam of light to kindred stars. I look upon the modest daisy, the sweet forget-me-not, and the tender sensitive plants, and repeat, as in days gone by, "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever." Are we like the potter's vessel, made only to be broken to pieces, to mingle with the dust, to be again reproduced in other forms to adorn the table, or serve any ignoble purpose which posterity may think fit? These workings within me speak of better things than this; "they argue something more than the common clod." They say, with unmistakeable force and convincing power, "That God made all things, man's mortal, and immaterial nature, too, a world of weal and woe beyond the grave." Nature, though silent, speaks. The midnight sky, the noonday sun, the eternal sea, the returning seasons, the balmy air, the gentle dew, and the beautiful flowers all speak to me with the voice of God, and say, "Nothing which now lives can ever die." The laws of nature also, are they not eternal? The reign of law is infallible, and changeth not. The ocean tide never ceases to ebb and flow, the planets never stop in their revolutions. The silent forces of nature are continually at work in obedience to the command of God. Spring and summer, autumn and winter, seedtime and harvest, heat and cold, day and night, never cease. The law of God changeth not. "Men may come, and men may go, but the law abideth for ever."

THE RAMBLES OF A ROSE.

MEN are houses of clay, living next door to each other. They are isolated, detached. And solitude is favourable for self-cultivation. But men are likewise social beings: "God setteth the solitary in families." And the intelligence which springs from self-culture demands association; the law of its development being communication. Like the law of happiness, it receives by giving, and increases by distributing.

Festivity is the blossom of association, the flowering of the habits and customs of society; and is rude or refined, and its fruit is baneful or blessed, according to the degree of civilisation and the character of the religion with which it is connected. The Levitical festivals of olden time harmonised with the philosophy of human nature and with political policy. And modern Christian festivals commemorate great facts and enunciate great truths, and are necessary to the weal of humanity and the religion of our race. The Annual Meeting of the Local Preachers' Mutual-Aid Association is also an institution "whither the tribes go up" for the transaction of business, and for the grand festival of fraternal greeting, and of Christian communion.

It was an amenity to the Aylesbury Rose to be accompanied by the President and two ex-Presidents of our Mutual-Aid AssociationBros. Madder, Durley, and Benson-in his journey to the late Annual

Here

Meeting held in Sheffield. The society of true genial souls makes suchlike pilgrimages a pleasure. Nature seemed in harmony with us, in delight and design, as we wended our way. Here and there along the route several of the brethren unconsciously gave themselves a lesson in setting their watches by the town or station clocks. Are not Local Preachers, in some sort, living dials by which worldly men often collocate their conduct? Error in a town-clock affects the horological knowledge of a whole neighbourhood. So ministerial example is likewise extensive in its influence. Arriving at Sheffield we found our way to an "upper room " in Norfolk Street, the place selected for our deliberations. we meet our brethren beloved, and, with them, enjoy "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." My home was with good Councillor Hadfield and his kind-hearted wife. I found it indeed a lodge to the mansion above. With the Councillor I held sweet counsel, and found his converse a profit and his friendship a delight. My Sunday work was characterised with novelty! being beckoned to the post of duty in the morning by a bell attached to the Chapel premises; and having in the evening to follow Bro. Wright, who once preached before H.R.H. Prince Arthur, now Duke of Connaught. The brethren, in session assembled on Monday and Tuesday, sorely missed the practical wisdom and timely aid of Bro. T. Chamberlain, the Nestor of our MutualAid Association. We have strong need, now and again, to be indoctrinated into, and reminded of the principle and design of the Association, so well and wisely originated and consolidated by our sagacious and sympathising brethren and fathers, viz., helping those who otherwise cannot help themselves.

The manifold warmth around us was such that we felt a relief in going with Bros. Benson, Dowsing and Candler to Barnsley, there to advocate the claims of our old men. The Barnsley people provoked our love by their hearty reception, practical sympathy, and sumptuous tea. Under the kind care and generous treatment of Bro. W. Smith, Treasurer of the Barnsley Branch, I was led to trust during my stay. My good host volunteered to drive me to the village of Silkstone, a distance of four miles, there to visit some old friends who, ten years ago, left the vale of Aylesbury, as they said, to benefit their social condition. We passed by Pogmoor, a wing of Barnsley, whence was issued that singular, Josh. Billings's style of Almanack, by Tom Treddlehoyle, Esq., the value of which, especially to us southern people, consists in the fact that it is written expressis verbis in the language spoken by Sammy Hick—a sort of stenographic diction, in which the chief feature is the shortening of words, and discarding the definite article as being altogether a waste of breath. We at length reached Silkstone, and was told the friends we sought lived at Sparrow Barracks; a number of houses erected for the convenience of colliers. Thither we repaired. Our reception was no proof of being welcomed as angels unawares. We resorted to all manner

of devices to get a sight of them. Hard knocks at the doors, nor soft words at the windows, would not avail. The secret was that some of the neighbours took myself for a county-court officer, and my good host for a policeman; and, from their being in debt, they supposed we were come for the purpose of haling some of them off to prison. We ascertained that one friend, having night-work to perform, was taking his rest in bed. A woman living near, more trustful than others, said, "Coom along, I'll wakken 'em up; I know he's at whoam." Thanks to her, and thanks to my good friend Mr. Smith, at length I saw and conversed with several of them. We pitied their condition, gave them good advice, and something to prove our counsel real. My mind naturally reverted to the time of their migration from this neighbourhood, when this class of workmen, numbers of whom called themselves Christians, daringly desecrated the Sabbath in supporting those standing on the village green, or in the market-place, and stealing sacred hours in which to deliver their harangues on secular questions. Labourers' rights should be maintained. But right should be secured by righteous means. A very bad cure will not endure. A false mend will soon end. Then, and only then, will all the labourers' rights be secured, and their immunities be enjoyed, when virtue sits at every hearth-fire, and the sons of toil have become the children of God.

Bro. Benson, with myself, went from Barnsley to Doncaster, there to engage in the Good-Samaritan work that wooed us to the former place. On our way the tall chimneys made me, in a poetic reverie, think that some tribe of giants, visiting Virginia, had stolen the whole crop of tobacco plants growing there, and, after rolling them into huge cigars, had chosen to depart thence and to hide themselves, by lying on their backs, among the Yorkshire hills, and so escape detection while they enjoyed smoking the weed. Here and there as we passed along large coke-kilns, all aglow with fervid heat, came full in our view. These seemed as if, in these days of superstition and change, some people had determined that Moloch-worship should be revived. Leaving Wombwell, Mexbro' and Conisbro'-places visited years before by Bro. Benson, when God visited His people and made them shout, without memoranda, and fulfil without vaunting, the first verse of the twelfth chapter of Isaiah, "And in that day thou shalt say, O Lord, I will praise Thee," &c-we at length reached Doncaster, and were hailed by Rev. J. Lord, and Bros. Isaac Marsden and F. J. Littlewood. Verily Methodism has fulfilled, in some degree, the prophecy found in Isaiah xxxv. 1, 2: "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them," &c. Through its instrumentality the thorn-bush has given way to the fir-tree, and the brier-brake has surrendered to the myrtle-bower. The seer might also have included in his simile the genus called Trifolium, for some of the brethren declared they had been in clover while staying at Sheffield. Not only at Sheffield, but also at Doncaster I found myself in

that happy condition through the brotherly kindness of Isaac Marsden, Esq., and his dear and estimable wife. Our good Bro. M. is one of the grandest examples of Methodism it has ever been my chance to meet and joy to greet. His home was happiness itself.

"I have been there, and still would go ;

"Tis like a little heaven below."

After spending a day in Doncaster with our friends, and seeing the birthplace of the late lamented Dr. Punshon, the seat of his late uncle, Sir Isaac Morley, and other places in and around this Yorkshire municipal town, we-Bros. Madder, Benson and myself-started for a week's stay at Matlock Bridge.

Here, at this Eden for invalids, we had to magnify our office as Local Preachers. Bro. Madder took morning and evening service at Matlock Bridge, and Matlock Bath. Bro. Benson charmed the people at Cromford, while the Aylesbury Rose, at the request of Rev. E. T. Carrier, had to shed his fragrance, as best he could, at the town of Wirksworth, in the same chapel where "Dinah Bede" delivered her soul in the selfsame work, and where the late "George Elliot," when young, bowed her head in worship. In this chapel is a marble tablet to the memory of "Dinah Bede." My service was also laid under tribute to fill the place of Rev. W. C. Williams, at Lea Bridge, where Miss Florence Nightingale has her country seat. All this work was cheerfully performed, and, I hope, duly appreciated. Revs. Dr. Gervase Smith and Dr. Maclaren were both taking rest at Matlock harbour. The former gentleman we visited in his affliction. May he yet be spared for greater service! We also visited an "elect lady" in the faith, Miss Fox, who was to the late Squire Brooks what Phebe of Cenchrea was to St. Paul. This good sister kindly and liberally remembered our aged brethren at the collection made at the Cromford meeting.

During our stay at Matlock we visited Chatsworth House, regaling our sight with the superb paintings, the massive rooms, and princely furniture; cartoons, and carvings; galleries and orangery; lawns and lake; cascade and fountains; and the colossal conservatory, with 70,000 feet of glass, and six miles of piping to heat it. We also refreshed our senses at Hardwicke Hall, in parading its charming gardens and pacing its inner courts; by gazing on its matchless tapestry, and its furniture "en suite ;" and in viewing the lawn-like park with declining trees and reclining deer. My journey to Wirksworth was beguiled with the cheerful companionship of Bro. Hadley, Bank Manager, who showed me the Stonnis, or Black Rocks, where Nature is not ashamed to show her rugged features; and from whose gritstone summit the scenery stretches out to a grandeur unequalled even in Derbyshire. On these rocks, Time, nature's sculptor, has wrought with his tardy chisel, and carved out a good profile of "Punch," as his image appears in the

weekly paper so called.

We, as visitors to Matlock, were entranced with its superb scenery. Here the poet may muse, and the artist may paint. Here Mother Earth reveals her stony ribs and granite bones. And here the geologist, amid brilliant spars and abounding minerals, stalactites, marble and ore, may find his seat of learning. We visited High Tor; went on it, in it, and under it. And after enjoying quantum libet of suchlike pleasure-taking, we returned to the sylvan vale of Aylesbury, thanking God for having granted us so much enjoyment: our rambles were never so joyous before.

Aylesbury.

JOHN ROSE.

SPIRITUAL PHOTOGRAPHY.

THE following thoughts suggested themselves from reading a sermon that appeared in the July number of the present year of the LOCAL PREACHERS' MAGAZINE on "Spiritual Photography;" the thoughts, after a lapse of more than twenty years, rising up as but newly formed. At the season referred to I, for a short time, was an amateur photographer, and desisted therefrom on account of defective eyesight. Although now an old man, the said sermon brought to my mind ideas of former years; and, like most old people, I find such things as are passed away more easily remembered than circumstances of later date. In submitting these thoughts, they are not given in the way of sermonising, but rather of analogy.

I first observe that the process of photography is carried on in secret, as far as outward observation is concerned; and carried on alone by the operator in a darkened room. The analogy is, that the formation of the Christian portrait is performed by the Divine Spirit alone, wrought internally by His agency, without any other concurrent circumstance further than the consent of the will. The darkness and the light are both alike to Him. Glass is employed on which the operation is to be performed, selected free from defect and thoroughly cleaned from every spot and particle of dust. A lens is then required, set to a true focus and properly adjusted, to give the outline of the portrait to be produced. So the Word of God is not presented in any new light to which we are to be conformed in the formation of the spiritual likeness, as a glass reflects the image of that which is exposed to it. But as in the case of taking the natural portrait the sun is wanted to strike the object, so, in addition, is the Sun of Righteousness required to shine upon all proceedings so that the correct image may be secured. He alone is the true Light that enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world, and no man cometh unto the Father but by Him.

The next analogy arises from the collodion process, and is a very important one. The clean and clear glass has to be covered with a coat