4 ANGLING. 



dimdant health, how many worthier far than he 

 lie on a bed of sickness racked with pain, or with 

 sinking spirits toil for daily bread, no murmuring 

 stream within their downcast view, no freshening 

 air around their throbbing temples. If summer 

 heat overcomes him, and he rests, not undelighted, 

 by grey romantic keep, or rustic bridge, or old 

 umbrageous tree, let him remember while gazing 

 on these frail memorials in reference to his puny 

 frame, how long enduring ! his immortal state, and 

 think with solemn heart-felt awe upon that " shadow 

 of a great rock," within which the weary and heavy 

 laden rest for ever. If autumn's ruddy streams are 

 roaring loud, let him not as one rejoicing in his 

 strength, trust to that strength alone, and so 

 " surely in the floods of great waters they shall not 

 come nigh thee." When stormy winter has em- 

 broiled the sweet serenity of this green earth, and 

 with " elemental strife" rages among icy crags and 

 leafless trees, and the shepherd's hut and the lone 

 mountain shieling lie buried beneath the drifting 

 snows, then let the angler, with grateful if not 

 with gladsome heart, acknowledge the blessings of 

 his fireside comforts, the numerous home delights 

 with which he is surrounded, the goodness and 

 mercy which have followed him " all the days of 

 his life." If he is the son of living parents, let him 

 reverence their grey hairs, the first commandment 

 with promise. If, his quiver full of arrows, he be 

 the fond father of many hopes, " provoke not your 

 children to wrath," but bring them up in the 

 nurture and admonition of the Lord. If childless, 



