scenery, in sentiments of the purest morality, or in an unaffected love of the Creator and his works, it has long ranked amongst the most popular compositions in our language." It is, indeed, a delightful work, breathing the perfume of country air and of the flowers in the windows of his cottages. The reader is charmed with the varied pictures of rural scenery, and the descriptions of placid trout streams. Even the snatches of old songs have a peculiar interest, while the simplicity and kindness of heart of the author, and the manner in which the minute incidents he meets with are related, make us love as well as admire him. Even his dinners with his companions, at a village ale-house, are so well described, that we can almost fancy we see the party seated round their dish of fish, with a foaming tankard of ale by their side, and that we are listening to their harmless and amusing conversation. Walton, from the enjoyment of country air, and the prospect of country scenery, seemed to awake to a new life, which added a charm to his descriptions, from the very pleasure which they afforded him. The following beautiful passage on the song of birds, supplies a proof of this observation. "The Lark, when she means to rejoice, and cheer herself and those that hear her, quits the earth, and sings as she ascends higher into the air, and having ended her heavenly employment, grows then mute and sad, to think she must descend to the dull earth, which she would not touch, but for necessity. How do the Blackbird and Throssel with their melodious voices bid welcome to the cheerful spring, and in their fixed months warble forth such ditties as no art or instrument can reach to! Nay, the smaller birds, also do the like in their particular seasons, as namely, the Laverock, the Tit-lark, the little Linnet, and the honest Robin that loves mankind both alive and dead. But the Nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth." I have always considered this as one of the most exquisite descriptions in Walton's Angler. No one but a true lover of nature could have written it, and the impressive beauty of the con cluding passage, could only have been conceived by a good man. How well has Mr. Moxon described him WALTON! When weary of the world, I turn Methinks, ev'n now I hear thee 'neath the milk-white scented thorn Communing with thy pupil, as the morn Her rosy cheek displays; while streams that flow, The publication of his " Complete Angler,” enlarged the circle of Walton's acquaintance and admirers. It is evident that men of the highest character, both for piety and learning, had a veneration and affection for him, and paid that tribute to his virtues they sowell deserved. Nor has time had any diminishing influence upon this feeling. Here do we find ourselves, after a period of more than one hundred and sixty years from the appearance of his "Angler," sitting down to pay, with no small degree of affection and pleasure, our own trifling meed of applause to one whose works have afforded us not only instruction, but gratification of no ordinary kind. Walton afforded an example, which cannot be too often inculcated and followed, that early rising, a contented, meek, and religious disposition, and a fondness for those scenes in which nature delights in unfolding her charms, are calculated to produce a tranquil and good old age. His walks, also, over Tottenham Hill to the banks of his favourite Lea, where he tried The all of treachery he ever learnt, and where he viewed the placid stream, the reflex of his own mind, and discoursed on the goodness and mercy of his Maker, praising Him, also, for "the innocent mirth and pleasure" he enjoyed, must have assisted in nurturing and maturing his soul for heaven. Happy old man! A humble disciple pays this little tribute to your memory. Often, after traversing a grassy and flowery meadow, and arriving on the banks of a pretty troutstream, has he laid down his rod, and bidding "the busy world farewell," indulged in sweet fancies drawn from your instructive volume. There has he "contemplated the flowers that take no care, and those very many other various little living creatures that are not only created, but fed, man knows not how, by the goodness of the God of nature." There, also, has he endeavoured to be thankful for the power which protects and blesses him, for the sun which shines upon him," and for the flowers, and showers, and food and content he enjoys, together with the leisure to go a fishing." Come lay by your cares, and hang up all sorrow, Let's angle to-day, and ne'er Come lay by your cares, and hang up all sorrow, Let's angle to-day, and ne'er Come lay by your cares, and hang up all sorrow, Let's angle to-day, and ne'er think of to-morrow, Let's angle today, and ne'er think of to-morrow. |