ST. BO SWELLS. 225 



the winding stream or stately-flowing river, and every bend 

 and turn present him with a new and beautiful picture. 

 He stands beside the foaming waterfall, and as he strains 

 his ear to listen to the fancied voices, remembers that he 

 has read somewhere of a voice which is "like the sound 

 of many waters." Perhaps he threads his way along the 

 bottom of the deep ravine, following the river which 

 glides past — its waters darkened by the tall, overshadowing 

 trees on either side. In this solemn region he listens to 

 the plaintive voice of the wood-pigeon cooing amorously 

 to his mate, and hears the ringing, blythesome song of 

 the mavis, echoing far away from among the topmost 

 branches overhead ; and all around him, he sees in 

 sheltered crevices and secure nooks and corners, the 

 richest mosses, the rarest ferns, the tiniest and most 

 beautiful of flowers. And all this, be it observed, is 

 viewed by him while he is diligently plying his 

 legitimate sport. He has not gone to look for the 

 beautiful in nature, but practically it has come to him 

 unsought, and by the way, and for this reason probably, 

 it is all the more enjoyable. Finally, when the twilight 

 shadows, stealing across the western sky, warn our angler 

 that it is time to be going homeward, he counts his fish — 

 mayhap, no difficult task, but he is content ; for he has 

 had abundant enjoyment, and he looks forward hopefully 

 to better sport another day. 



On the title-page of the first edition of Walton's book, 

 within a quaint and original device, he inscribes the words 

 — "The Compleat Angler ; or the Contemplative Man's 

 Recreation." To say that Izaak was a shrewd as well as 



