See me, or see me not! The partridge sprung, To cancelier; then, with such speed, as if He carried lightning in his wings, he strikes The grand falconer, too, in full drefs, with his falcon perched on his wrift, was a moft picturefque-looking individual; and his attendants, bearing the perches for the hooded birds, made up a bufy, animated, and excited group. But the sport of hawking, like that of archery, gave way to other pursuits; and the fowling-piece fuperfeded the hooded hawk, which, fince the days of Alfred, had been held in fuch high efteem by the gentle-born and chivalrous fpirits of "Old England." ANGLING. MONG the varied amusements and occupations of our ancestors, there are none which has more votaries in the present day than that to which Izaak Walton was so devotedly attached, and which he described on the title-page of his "Compleat Angler," of 1653, as "the contemplative man's recreation." Many a pleafant picture of this fport is to be found fcattered among the poets and profe wiiters of paft times; but towering above them all stand the works of that great mafter of his craft, whom "neither blandishment nor obftacle could fwerve from his mighty end when he went forth to kill fish"old Izaak, fo gentle and fo good, who entreated his disciples always to put the worm tenderly" on the hook : He was the great progenitor of all That war upon the tenants of the stream; He neither stumbled, stopt, nor had a fall When he essay'd to war on dace, bleek, bream, Stone-loach, or pike, or other fish, I deem. We have often fancied that the good man believed he had fomething of a divine call to his work; the motto which he prefixed to his "Discourse of Fish and Fishing," was "Simon Peter faid, I go a fishing; and they said, We also will go with thee." There is not a prettier scene recorded in English literature, than that of the two companions, Venator and Pifcator, on the banks of the gentle Lea; VEN. On my word, master, this is a gallant trout; what shall we do with him? Pisc. Marry, e'en eat him to supper. We'll go to my hostess, from whence we came; she told me, as I was going out of door, that my brother Peter, a good angler and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would lodge there to-night, and bring a friend with him. My hostess has two beds, and I know you and I may have the best. We'll rejoice with my brother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or sing ballads, or make a catch, or find some harmless sport to content us, and pass away a little time without offence to God or man. VEN. A match, good master: let's go to that house, for the linen looks white, and smells of lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that smell so. Let's be going, good master, for I am hungry again with fishing. PISC. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught my last trout with a worm; now I will put on a minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yonder trees for another, and so walk towards our lodgings. Look you, scholar, thereabout we shall have a bite presently, or not at all. Have with you, sir, o' my word I have hold of him. Oh, it is a great logger-headed Chub! Come, hang him upon that willow twig, and let's be going. But turn out of the way a little, good scholar, towards yon high honeysuckle hedge; there we'll sit and sing while this shower falls so gently on the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant meadows. Look! under that broad beech-tree I sat down when I was last this way a fishing, and the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree, near the brow of that primrose hill; there I sat viewing the silver streams glide silently toward their centre, the tempestuous sea; but sometimes opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones which broke their waves and turned them into foam; and sometimes I beguiled time by viewing the harmless lambs-some leaping securely in the cool shade, while others sported themselves in the cheerful sun; and saw others craving comfort from the swollen udders of their bleating dams. As I thus sat, these and other sights had so fully possessed my soul with content, that I thought, as the poet as happily expressed it, I was for that time lifted above earth, And possess'd joys not promised in my birth. As I left the place and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me; it was a handsome milk-maid, that had not yet attained so much age and wisdom as to load her mind with any fears of many things that will never be, as too many men too often do; but she cast away all care and sang like a nightingale. Her voice was good and the ditty fitted for it; it was that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least fifty years ago; and the milk-maid's mother sang an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days. They were old fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I think much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age. Look yonder! on my word, they both be a milking again. I will give her the Chub, and persuade them to sing those two songs again. And the milk-maid fang with a merry heart that choice fong, "Come, live with me and be my love," and Venator bestowed upon the honeft, innocent, pretty Maudlin that bleffing of Sir Thomas Overbury, "That she may die in the spring, and being dead, may have good store of flowers ftuck round about her winding-fheet." And the mother fang in reply If that the world and love were young, But time drives flocks from field to fold, And age complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields, A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, The coral clasps and amber studs ; All these in me no means can move, To come to thee and be thy love. But could youth last and love still breed; Had joys no date, nor age no need; What a pleasant conclufion to the day's fport was that visit to Bleak Hall! and what a picture of contented happiness and delicious comfort there is in the description of that "honest alehoufe, where would be found a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads ftuck about the walls; with a hoftess both cleanly, handfome, and civil." Well might Izaak and his companion fay, Σ |