Preface. 



IX 



" All, all are gone, the old familiar faces !" 



But to revert to Walton. In the ragged regiment 

 of Lamb's book-tatterdemalions (a regiment I was per- 

 mitted to manoeuvre at will, though not much taller 

 at the time than its talleft folio), was an early copy of 

 the ' Compleat Angler,' 1 I believe (for thofe were not 

 bibliomaniacal days,) Hawkins' edition of 1760. This 

 was my chief treafure, my pearl of price ; and, perched 

 on the forked branch of an ancient apple-tree, in the 

 little overgrown orchard, and at an elevation from which 

 I could almoft catch a glimpfe of the marfhy levels of 

 the Lea itfelf, it was my delight to fally forth with Pif- 

 cator, on that perennial" May morning, to dib with him 



1 In a letter to Coleridge, dated 28th (Del., 1796, Lamb fays: 

 " Among all your quaint readings, did you ever light upon Walton's 

 Complete Angler ? I afked you the queftion once before ; it breathes 

 the very fpirit of innocence, purity, and fimplicity of heart ; there 

 are many choice old verfes interfperfed in it ; it would fweeten a man's 

 temper at any time to read it ; it would Chriftianize every difcordant 

 angry paffion : pray make yourfelf acquainted with it." 



2 Speaking of the perennialnefs of great writers' conceptions, and 

 referring more particularly to Chaucer, Mrs. Browning fays finely : 

 " He knew the fecret of nature and art — that truth is beauty, — and 

 faying, " I will make A Wife of Bath, as well as Emilie, and you 

 fhall remember her as long," we do remember her as long. And he 

 fent us a train of pilgrims, each with a diftincl: individuality apart 

 from the pilgrimage, all the way from Southwark and the Tabard Inn 



