120 ANGLING. 



would learn to amend their own, by observing in how narrow a 

 compass^ the wants of human life may be compressed ; a journey, 

 either with or without a rod, through these wild scenes, might be 

 attended with more improvement to the traveller, than the tour of 

 Europe.'^ 



What is a great inducement to take a piscatory ramble among 

 the Cumberland and Westmoreland waters, is the kind and hos- 

 pitable attention of the country people. This is very strikingly 

 displayed in almost every locality the angler can frequent. Every- 

 thing bespeaks real kindliness, cleanliness, and comfort. There are 

 certainly no fashionable elegances, no parade of > ceremonies ; but 

 the tourist is sure to receive a true welcome, which is far superior 

 to the customary formalities, in which the heart has seldom any 

 part. It is a pleasant thing, after a long day's fagging at the 

 river's side, through a lonely country, to meet a friendly expression 

 of countenance, and a cordial welcome. This finds the way to the 

 heart, and tells you, in the language of the aifections, to consider 

 yourself no longer a stranger, but at home. Under such circum- 

 stances, the exquisite lines of Catullus have often been recalled to 

 our mind: 



" Oh quid est solutis beatius curis ! ^ 

 Cum meus onus reponit, ac peregrine 

 Eessi labore venimus larem ad sacrum." 



How delightful to wander through these solitudes of nature! 

 How full of interest to the human soul. We never seem to appre- 

 ciate the quick animating principle of our bein^, until we are fairly 

 engulfed in these deep recesses, where the foot of man seldom 

 treads, and his voice is seldom heard. In those inward breathings 

 of the soul which such localities inspire, how often have we 

 thought of the lines of Byron : 



" There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 

 There is a pleasure on the lonely shore, 



There is society where none intrudes, 

 By the deep sea, and music in its roar : 

 I love not man the less, but nature more, 



Tor these our interviews, in which I steal 

 Prom all I may be, or have been before, 



To mingle with the universe, and feel 



What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." 



We must now turn for a short period to another class of waters, 

 in which there is a considerable range of sporting displayed, though 

 of a somewhat different order from that which we have just been 

 noticing over the wild and unfrequented mountain districts in the 

 north-western section of England. There are two large rivers in 

 the heart of this country, the Trent and the Severn, on the banks of 



