ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 69 



herd, all of them well and devotedly loved our 

 pastime. It matters nothing to us! They have 

 left of their attachment no relic in immortal rhymes. 

 We marvel, but do not upbraid them. They have 

 written on loftier themes, and sought therefore a 

 loftier meed of honour than the discourse of a few 

 wandering anglers could possibly confer. 



Hackle. You say truly. Man was their study 

 man, under the dominion of nature and his own 

 fellow-creatures man, with his heart, and its 

 world of conflicting passions man that drops from 

 the womb into the cradle, and, springing from 

 thence, gathers, with the winds, power and know- 

 ledge, until the star of independence settles upon 

 his forehead, and he shivers with one strong impulse 

 all derogatory bonds, shewing himself what he is, a 

 son of his Maker, in frame and intellect equal to 

 any king. ' Tis a theme exhaustless and illimitable, 

 as it is to reckon and compute the surges of the 

 sea; they change in number, feature, body and 

 altitude, in sound and in transparency; so do men. 

 The matter is not worn out, as some small critics 

 happen to imagine, who, to appear sagacious, as- 

 sume a knowledge of human nature, even the tithe 

 of whose workings is to them an incomprehensible 

 hieroglyph. Have they the key of a single heart, 

 among the plotting, careworn, joyous, jealous, and 

 distressful numbers, that throbs along the highway 

 of life? Can they lay bare the actuating motives 

 for a solitary deed, performed by any being ? They 



