in recording his intimacy with Propertius and Horace, regrets that he had only seen Virgil (First, Lib. iv., v. 51). But still he thinks the sight of him worth remembering. And Pope, when a child, prevailed on some friends to take him to a coffeehouse which Dryden frequented, merely to look at him, which he did with great satisfaction. Now, such of us as have shaken hands with a living poet might be able to reckon up a series of connecting shakes, to the very hand that wrote of Hamlet, and of Falstaff, and of Desdemona.

"With some living poets, it is certain. There is Thomas Moore, for instance, who knew Sheridan. Sheridan knew Johnson, who was the friend of Savage, who knew Steele, who knew Pope. Pope was intimate with Congreve, and Congreve with Dryden. Dryden is said to have visited Milton. Milton is

said to have known Davenant, and to have been saved by him from the revenge of the restored court, in return for having saved Davenant from the revenge of the Commonwealth. But if the link between Dryden and Milton, and Milton and Davenant, is somewhat apocryphal, or rather dependent on tradition (for Richardson the painter tells us the story from Pope, who had it from Betterton the actor, one of Davenant's company), it may be carried at once from Dryden to Davenant, with whom he was unquestionably intimate. Davenant then knew Hobbes, who knew Bacon, who knew Ben Jonson, who was intimate with Beaumont and Fletcher, Chapman, Donne, Drayton, Camden, Seldon, Clarendon, Sidney, Raleigh, and perhaps all the great men of Elizabeth's and James's time, the greatest of them all undoubtedly. Thus have we a link of 'beamy

hands' from our own times up to Shakespeare.

"In this friendly genealogy we have omitted the numerous sidebranches or common friendships. It may be mentioned, however, in order not to omit Spenser, that Davenant resided some time in the family of Lord Brooke, the friend of Sir Phillip Sidney. Spenser's intimacy with Sidney is mentioned by himself in a letter, still extant, to Gabriel Harvey."

AN

XIV.

BY THE RIVER-SIDE.

"It is nothing strange that men who throw their flies for trout should dream of it."-W. C. PRIME.

WHO would not have gone a-fishing with dear old Izaak Walton and his friends, and been one in the quaint and pleasing conversations which took place between them! But as that has been denied us, we can still be with them in spirit as they whip the streams and talk.

"VENATOR. On my word, master, this is a gallant trout. What shall we do with him?

"PISCATOR. 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 either God or man.

"VENATOR. 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."

Before they return, however, Piscator catches another logger-headed chub, which he hangs on a willow