fascinated Washington Irving that he resolved to become an angler. During the winter he studied all the modes by which fish could be beguiled, and in spring began his practice "in a mountain brook among the highlands of the Hudson." The result was a failure. "I hooked

myself instead of the fish," he says, "tangled my line in every tree, lost my bait and broke my rod, until I gave up the attempt in despair, and passed the day under the trees reading old Izaak; satisfied that it was his vein of honest simplicity and rural feeling that had bewitched me." Even ladies have been tempted by the book to try the delights of angling. Mrs. S. C. Hall is one of these disciples of Walton. She says, "With a rod and line a lady enjoys the freshness of the open air, and the most delicious scenery. She makes acquaintance with the beauty and delicacy of the endless tribe of river plants and insects which add so much to the variety and interest of her ramble." With conversation such as we meet with in the "Angler," Walton doubtless amused his friends whilst angling on the banks of the Lea, the Thames, or the Dove. We may easily imagine the charm which this easy and pleasant discourse would give to the summer hours passed by romantic streams and in lonely valleys.

To some it may appear strange that a work of instructions for a mere amusement should be published in a time of such political commotion. The English and Dutch fleets were then desperately contending for the dominion of the sea; the Long Parliament were, in the April of this very year, turned out of their House by Cromwell, who significantly told them, "The Lord has done with you." Men were fiercely debating whether England should be governed by a Council formed on the model of the Jewish Sanhedrim, or by a Board whose

members should equal the number of the Apostles. Barebone's Parliament was exciting the derision of the mockers, and the indignation of the patriotic; the rule of the sword and the pike seemed at hand, and Cromwell was made Protector with coronation ceremonies.

Such was the time in which Walton sent out his quiet little book, and this very confusion of public affairs probably contributed to its popularity. The whole government of the country was then in the hands of one party. A royalist had a very small chance indeed of being able to engage in the affairs of the nation. The Magistrates' bench, the Court of Quarter Sessions, and all the public departments, were filled with his opponents. The country gentlemen of the King's party had but three resources: idleness, sports, or political plotting. The last was a dangerous game: Cromwell's eyes were quick and his arms long; the first is hateful to most Englishmen; to the sports of the field, then, they naturally turned. Hunting was almost out of the question; so many families had been ruined, so many estates forfeited, and such bitter jealousies stirred up in every district, that a less expensive and more exclusive amusement became requisite. Angling fell in with this state of things. A broken fortune could support it, and the angler was able to select his associates. To this class Walton's book was exactly fitted. It was written by one of their own party, and spoke sentiments grateful to their hearts. The popularity of such a book was certain appealing as it did to the love of amusement and to similar political and religious opinions.

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For the next nine years we meet with few traces of Walton. He appears to have divided his time between London and the country; visiting his friends, many of whom were now suffering severely. In 1655 he must

c

have been in London; for in his Life of Bishop Sanderson he describes his accidental meeting with that friend in Little Britain. The restoration of the Royal Family, and the elevation of his numerous friends to power, filled the heart of Walton with gladness. But over his own home a dark cloud soon spread; his second wife died in April, 1662, sixteen years after her marriage. A monumental slab of white marble, bearing her epitaph, was fixed in the wall of the Lady Chapel in Worcester Cathedral. She was buried in this Chapel, and the epitaph, written by Walton, describes her as being "A woman of remarkable prudence, and primitive piety, her great and general knowledge being adorned with such true humility, and blest with so much Christian meekness, as made her worthy of a more memorable monument."

Walton was now in his seventieth year, and it is not a little remarkable that three of his Lives were published after this time. In 1665 he brought out his Life of Hooker, having, as he says, been "quiet twenty years.' It was owing to the advice of Archbishop Sheldon that Walton composed this work, from which we get a fair notion of the "judicious Hooker," and some interesting particulars of his times. The honest-hearted biographer does not indeed sufficiently comprehend the noble moderation, the large views, and the argumentative power of this famous divine. This was not to be expected from Walton. We must read the "Ecclesiastical Polity" itself fully to appreciate these endowments of that clear reasoner. This Life was written while Walton was residing with Dr. Morley, Bishop of Winchester, to whom it was dedicated. With this learned ecclesiastic Walton had then enjoyed "the advantage of forty years' friendship," so that the acquaintance must have begun

long before Walton gave up his business. This fact shows how attractive the character of Walton must have been to such men as Dr. Morley. We see a strong proof of this in the fact stated by Dr. Zouch, that "Walton and his daughter had apartments constantly reserved for them in the houses of Dr. Morley, the Bishop of Winchester, and of Dr. Ward, Bishop of Salisbury."

In 1670 Walton gave his Life of George Herbert " to the world, which he tells us he wrote to please himself and benefit posterity. The spiritual tone and fervour of Herbert evidently won the admiration of Walton; the writing of this life was therefore to him a labour of love. The reader will see in the observations on Gidding Hall, an instance of an attempt to introduce the principle of the monastic system into the English Church.

In 1673, when Walton had reached his eightieth year, he was busily occupied in collecting information for a life of his deceased friend, John Hales of Eton, whose attractive conversation, religious spirit, unwearied pursuit of knowledge, and sufferings during the Civil War, procured for him the appellation of the "ever memorable." Walton made numerous inquiries at Windsor, where Hales had been a Canon, and at Eton, where he died. Walton himself did not intend to write a life of Hales; but collected the information for Mr. Fullman, who had been secretary to the kind-hearted and learned Dr. Hammond.

It may here be remarked that Walton spent much time during this part of his life at his friend Charles Cotton's seat, amidst the romantic beauties of Dovedale. This friendship was singular in its character. Cotton was thirty-seven years younger than Walton, he

had been educated at Cambridge, was somewhat of a poet, a little of a philosopher, with a strong tendency to literature, and by no means unwilling to join in the pleasures of a man of the world. After his introduction

to Walton he became so attached to the old man, that he insisted upon always addressing him as "father," receiving in return the name of "son." His seat,

Beresford Hall, near the river Dove, was well situated for that sport in which both he and Walton delighted ; and Cotton built a small fishing-house on the banks of the stream, where provisions and angling implements were stored up. This building was standing, though much dilapidated, a few years ago, and the memory of Walton was honoured by the opening of an inn in Dovedale called the Izaak Walton Hotel. Cotton, in one of his poems, calls the Dove "the princess of rivers," and a deep part, called " the pike pool'," was the favourite resort of the two friends; where, amidst this rich scenery, Walton passed many a day after he had reached his eightieth year.

When at the age of eighty-five Walton published "The Life of Bishop Sanderson," with whom he had enjoyed a most profitable friendship of more than twenty years' duration. Two years after, in 1680, he printed a small pamphlet entitled "Love and Truth, in two modest and peaceable letters concerning the distempers of the present times; written from a quiet and comfortable citizen of London, to two busy and factious shopkeepers in Coventry." The peace-loving Walton enjoying a quiet and comfortable old age, did not perhaps see the precipice to which the follies of Charles II. were

1 So named from the Pike or Peak, a lofty rock rising from the centre of the pool.