We had to pause in mid-discourse upon our pleasant theme, sweet reader; more considerate than the Ancient Mariner with his poor Wedding-guest listener, we let thee go with our story only half-told. It is now time to resume our interrupted narrative; nor canst thou in any conscience object to our so doing, when some weeks were freely given thee for breathing-time. We arrest thy passing steps, therefore, without scruple; thirty minutes' occupation!-'tis not much-and after that thou shalt turn again to the allengrossing world. Dost ever weary in hearkening to its tumult? dost ever grow tired and languid in justling thy way through the crowded paths of life? Then, were it well with thee for a time to forget these things; and the sweet converse of our old friend will be to thine ear soothing as the chiming fall of those melodious streams beside which it was his delight to wander. Nor will pleasure alone attend thy communion, but positive good will likewise flow to thee from his society; from his precepts you will learn how the daily burden may be best borne, and after his example, that a meek and contented spirit is better than philosophy; for that in every allotment in life there is something or other which will demand gratitude at your hands. The position in which we left our author (for we must go back a little in our narrative) was one calculated to test very severely his serenity of mind. Thick clouds had been long gathering in the English atmosphere; at length they joined their thunders, and the tempest was poured forth on the miserable land. The irresolute disposition of the king was ill calculated to contend with the lawless determination of the parliament, and in 1642 the civil war was begun with the indecisive engagement at Edgehill; then followed wearisome negociations in proposals made to Charles which he could not conscientiously sanction, yet which he was not left at liberty to decline. In 1644 was fought the obstinate battle of Marston Moor, where the military genius of Cromwell abundantly displayed itself. Next year came the ruinous fight at Naseby; then in another twelvemonth was the king a self-surrendered prisoner in the hands of the Scottish army; and in 1649 the unfortunate Charles at last found quiet in the grave. During these troublous times, as we have already told thee, Izaak Walton had been constrained to give up his employment in the metropolis his attachment to the royal cause being well known. He retired to his native town of Stafford, and lived there upon a small estate which in better days he had purchased; and afterwards (perhaps driven thence likewise) he resided with his distinguished friends in various parts of the country; still possessing his soul in all patience, and trustfully awaiting a brighter and better state of things. In the lively colours of nature, in the happy society of his few familiar friends, and in the constant companionship of his own cheerful heart could he find blessings of which the turbulent world outside could not deprive him. To these did he turn in his hour of trial, and they betrayed him not. His withdrawal from the world gave him sufficient time for thinking, and the fruits of his retirement we possess in his remaining works which we have now to notice. Another mind would have degenerated into querulousness, but Walton's rose superior to fortune, and triumphed. In 1653 appeared the work which has identified his name with its subject for ever-The Complete Angler, or, Contemplative Man's Recreation. The first edition was in duodecimo, and was adorned with steel engravings of the fish mentioned in its pages. Notwithstanding the distracted state of the kingdom its success was immediate-a second edition appearing in 1655 with many improvements. In 1664 a third edition was published; in 1668, a fourth; and in 1676, a fifth, which was the last in Walton's lifetime. All these were successively enlarged and improved; the fifth edition, from which our present copies are made, containing eight chapters more than the first. The modern editions of the work are innumerable. We shall specify a few of many that occur to us. First in the list for its splendour and costliness stands that published in two volumes, imperial octavo, by Mr. Pickering a few years since from the editorial hands of Sir Harris Nicolas, and illustrated by the late venerable Stothard and Mr. Inskipp. The local scenery is faithfully given in these magnificent volumes, and designs are supplied to each part of the book capable of furnishing a subject; the correctness and beauty of the type is above all praise, and the prefixed memoir was, we understand, the slow gathering of twenty years only the price-six guineaswill keep this edition from general use. To readers, therefore, we recommend (capable as it is of great improvement) the less ostentatious edition of Professor Rennie-published in 1834, or the still better re-publication of Mr. Major a few years previously. There are also one or two diamond editions which we have not seen, and with which, for our sight's sake, we are not over anxious to make acquaintance. * Let us now turn from these dry details to the book itself which has been long lying open by our side soliciting our regard. Forgive us, dear, kind, old friend! our "regard" thou hast had for many a day, and now with all delight do we betake ourselves to thy gentle and true-hearted contemplations. "The Complete Angler," while intended primarily for instruction in the gentle art, is by no means a strictly professional work. It was the author's object, he tells us, “to make a recreation of a recreation ;" and that it may not "read dull and tediously," said he, "I have in several places mixed, not any scurrility, but some innocent harmless mirth." Very judiciously, likewise, he adopted a conversational cast for the whole, the interlocutors being, as the first chapter instructs us, "an angler, a hunter, and a falconer, each commending his recreation;" or if we prefer their Latin dress-Piscator, Venator, and Auceps. By employing this machinery a liveliness is infused into his work which perhaps could not otherwise be arrived at; and as his book advances, through the introduction of one or two more characters, with the relieving of songs and snatches of poetry, instead of a dull treatise Walton has produced a volume to delight the inexperienced reader who will take it up only for the book's sake. Also by a skilful accommodation of the parts Venator is overcome by the angler's praise of his gentle amusement (every thing that could be urged in favour of the art having been employed to work his conversion): he supplicates to be received a pupil, and in the figure of giving instruction to one anxious to learn, the author skill Through the kindness of a friend in Dublin, to whom we would offer our sincere acknowledgments, we have been enabled since this paper was put into the printer's hands to add to our stock of information with respect to Walton's personal history; and we only regret that we must now give in a note, what we would have gladly embodied in the text of our article. From an interesting letter about Walton addressed by Mr. Pickering to this friend, which has been very considerately submitted to us, induced as it was by our former paper, we learn that Izaak came to London at an early age; that he was in all probability educated at Westminster the defective register not permitting us to speak with certainty; and that in his seventeenth year, in 1610, he was apprenticed to Thomas Grinsell, citizen and ironmonger, who had married his sister Anne. He was made free of the city in 1617-18. Mr. Pickering, who is not ashamed to be a man of taste in addition to his excellent habits of business, possesses the following interesting memorials of the author of "The Complete Angler:"- -a copy of this work with Izaak's autograph; Walton's prayer-book, with the register of his family in autograph; the copy of Donne's sermons, which Walton gave to his most deare Ante Cranmer; his copy of Sanderson's sermons, with the texts in his own hand; his copy of Hooker's polity; and presentation copies of all his lives and works, fully weaves his work, and teaches his reader under guise of instructing another. The object we have set before ourselves in this and our former paper has been the examination of the literary merits of Walton; in consequence, any hints on the subject of the work under consideration would be irrelevant. We may however be permitted, once and for all, to express our conviction of the fruitlessness of book instruction. Our memory brings clear before us almost every volume published on the theme, from Wynkyn de Worde's "Treatyse of Fyshynge with an Angle" (as edited by the worthy prioress of St. Alban's, Dame Juliana Barnes) down to the days of Salmonia and of the poet-fisherman, Thomas Tod Stodart; yet do we esteem them alike valueless in point of practical utility. And we detract not from the merit of "The Complete Angler " when we assert that it is chiefly as a literary composition we value it; for its rules and regulations-despite of their proceeding from our loved acquaintance-savour too much in our judgment of the sporting kingdom of Cockaign. Indeed, in his own introductory address to his reader, Walton confesses as much, when he declares angling to be "an art not to be taught by words but by practice;" and when he admits the imperfection of his own counsels, inasmuch as a change of circumstances will always require a change of plan, which alone experience can discover. We shall now present our readers with a few extracts. And here at a page full of lovely thoughts has the book opened of itself: we suppose because we have found there our favourite passage. Listen, dear reader, to Master Auceps so eloquently pleading for the feathered darlings of na ture: "Nay more, the very birds of the air, those that be not hawks, are both so useful and pleasant to mankind, that * See that sweet, sad "sonnetto:" 66 I must not let them pass without some observations: they both feed him and refresh him; feed him with their choice bodies, and refresh him with their cheerful voices. I will not undertake to mention the several kinds of fowl by which this is done: and his curious palate pleased by day, and which with their very excrements afford him a soft lodg ing by night. These I will pass by, but not those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art." Quel rossigniuol, che si soave piange Forse suoi figli, O sua cara consort, E mi ramente la mia dura sorte," &c. VOL. XX. No. 119. 20 Of a different character, but very well worth quoting nevertheless, are our author's ingenious remarks upon contemplation and action in their influence upon human conduct and human happiness. These powers of man have been contrasted each with the other from the earliest dawn of human thinking, and according to men's different temperaments they have been received into different degrees of favour. Singly, they may no doubt afford momentary pleasure; but for the effecting of sure and continued good they must needs be united: and Lord Bacon has expressed what we would say in language so exact and by an illustration so curious, that we shall employ his words in preference to our own. "That," said he, "will indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, if contemplation and action may be more nearly and strongly conjoined than they have been; a conjunction like unto that of the two highest planets-Saturn, the planet of rest and contemplation, and Jupiter, the planet of civil society and action:" and Walton shows, that in his favourite pastime such result follows; and with much ingenuity converts it into a plea for the greater esteeming of anglers and their innocent occupa tion. He begins by stating the case very fairly: "In ancient times a debate hath risen, and it remains unresolved, whether the happiness of man in this world doth consist more in contemplation or action? Concerning which some have endeavoured to maintain their opinion of the first, by saying that the nearer we mortals come to God, by way of imita tion, the more happy we are; and they say that God enjoys himself only by a contemplation of his own infiniteness, eternity, power, and goodness, and the like; and upon this ground, many cloisteral men of great learning and devotion prefer contemplation before action; and many of the fathers seem to approve this opinion, as may appear in their com mentaries upon the words of our Saviour to Martha, Luke x. 41, 42. 66 And on the contrary, there want not men of equal authority and credit, that prefer action to be the more excellent; as, namely, experiments in physic, and the application of it both for the ease and prolongation of man's life, by which each man is enabled to act and do good to others either to serve his country or do good to particular persons. And they say, also, that action is doctrinal, and teaches both art and virtue, and is a maintainer of human society; and for these, and other like reasons, to be preferred before contemplation. Concerning which two opinions, I shall forbear to add a third, by declaring my own; and rest myself contented in telling you that both these meet together, and do most properly belong to the most honest, ingenuous, quiet, and harmless art of angling.' Our author's opinion of a "good companion," so different from old Jack Falstaff's, are very characteristic of his seriousness of mind, and the in • From the "Resolves, divine, politicall, and morall," of Owen Felltham-a work that had an extraordinary share of popularity in its day, now almost unknown, we quote the following just remarks on the subject. We think our readers will join with us in admiring as well the style of the author's thinking as the harmonious language in which his ideas are embodied : Meditation is the soul's perspective glass, whereby in her long remove she discerneth God as if he were near her hand. I persuade no man to make it his whole life's business. We have bodies as well as souls, and even this world, while we are in it, ought somewhat to be cared for. As those states are likely to flourish, where execution follows sound advisements, so is man, when contemplation is followed by action. Contemplation generates; action propagates. Without the first the latter is defective; without the last, the first is but abortive and embryous. St. Bernard compares contemplation to Rachel, which was the more fair; but action to Leah, which was the more fruitful. I will neither always be busy and doing, or ever shut up in nothing but thought. Yet that which some men call idleness, will call the sweetest part of my life, and that is, my thinking." How nocency of his social mirth. much of the so-called pleasantry of society has been derived from one or other, or both, of the sources which he here so justly reprobates : "And now to your question concerning your host-to speak truly, he is not to me a good companion; for most of his conceits were either Scripture jests or lascivious jests, for which I count no man witty; for the devil will help a man that way inclined to the first; and his own corrupt nature, which he always carries with him, to the latter. But a companion that feasts the company with wit and mirth, and leaves out the sin which is usually mixed with them, he is the man; and indeed such a companion should have his charges borne; and to such company I hope to bring you this night. I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon one another next morning." What a blessed spirit displays itself in each line of these noble sentiments following: "That our present happiness may appear to be the greater, and we the more thankful for it, I will beg you to consider with me how many do even at this very time lie under the torment of the stone, the gout, and toothache; and this we are free from; and every misery that I miss is a new mercy-and, therefore, let us be thankful. There have been, since we met, others that have met disasters of broken limbs; some have been blasted, others thunderstricken; and we have been freed from these, amid all those many other miseries that threaten human nature: let us, therefore, rejoice and be thankful. Nay, which is a far greater mercy, we are free from the insupportable burden of an accusing, tormenting conscience—a misery that none can bear; and, therefore, let us praise Him for his preventing grace, and say, every misery that I miss is a new mercy!" Yet at this time was he an involuntary exile from the metropolis, regarded with suspicion by the government on account of his loyal attachment to the throne, and unsettled in his place of residence, being uncertain how short he was to remain in any spot where he might fix himself. But the mind is always "its own place:" our opinions of things depend altogether upon the medium through which we view them; and it is not so much misfortune or happiness that happen to men; as rather men make these for themselves by the regulation of their own hearts. In a rejoicing spirit of contentedness, he goes on to say Nay, let me tell you, there be many that have forty times our estates, that would give the greatest part of it to be healthful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of a little money, have eat, and drank, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept securely; and rose next day, and cast away care, and sang, and laughed, and angled again, which are blessings rich men cannot purchase with all their money. Let me tell you, scholar, I have a rich neighbour that is always so busy that he has no leisure to laugh. The whole business of his life is to get money, and more money, that he may still get more and more money; he is still drudging on, and says that Solomon says The diligent hand maketh rich; and it is true indeed. But he considers not that it is not in the power of riches to make a man happy; for it was wisely said by a man of great observation, That there be as many miseries beyond riches as on this side them.' And yet, God deliver us from pinching poverty, and grant that, having a competency, we may be content and thankful! Let us not repine, or so much as think the gifts of God unequally dealt, if we see another abound with riches; when, as God knows, the cares that are the keys that keep those riches hang often so heavily at the rich man's girdle, that they clog him with weary days and restless nights, even when others sleep quietly. We see but the outside of the rich man's happiness: few consider him to be like the silk-worm, that, when she seems to play, is at the very same time spinning her own bowels, and consuming herself; and this many rich men do, loading themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they have probably unconscionably got. Let us, therefore be thankful for health and competence, and, above all, for a quiet conscience." There are several pages similar to this, and in immediate consequence, which we are constrained by our limits to pass over, though we would will. ingly extract them for our readers. Your remedy, friends, if you are aggrieved, is to procure the book on your account, and study it for yourselves; then will our omission be a very blessing to you, and as such you |