Vlll 



Preface. 



There are few lovers of old books, befides — nay, few- 

 readers of any kind, in whom the * Compleat Angler' 

 does not, I am fain to believe, excite fome pleafant 

 reminifcence, or touch the chord of fome tender 

 afTociation. 



It is fo with me, at leaft. My firft knowledge of 

 the book connects itfelf with an early and happy epoch 

 of my life, and with the memory of a great and good 

 friend, long fince gathered to his reft. I allude to 

 Charles Lamb, at the feet of which Gamaliel, in the 

 days of his Enfield fojourning, it was my frequent 

 privilege to fit, a boyifh but reverent difciple, and to 

 drink in, with infatiate ears, the infpired talk of fuch 

 a conclave of gomps as has never, perhaps, been col- 

 lected under one roof, fince Shakefpeare, and Ben 

 Jonfon, and Beaumont, and other demi-gods of that 

 heroic day, made the rafters of the Mermaid ring with 

 their divine wit and merriment. 



Alas ! that of that genial Enfield circle of choice 

 fpirits, not one mould be left ! Coleridge, Wilfon, 

 Wordfworth, Hazlitt, Barry Cornwall, Hunt, Hood — 

 in the very enumeration of their names, I feel as if 

 fomething of myfelf had died out with each — fome 

 warmth of life grown chill — fome funfhine of the foul 

 faded for ever ! 



