Painter. Thofe Tiffington Wells, which are flowered on holydays by the country folk? Angler. The fame; and of a fingular clearness; nay, they are more transparent than the filvery waters of famed Sabrina, where

The shepherds, at their festivals, 'Carol her goodness loud in ruftic lays,

'And throw sweet garland-wreaths into her stream, Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils;"

and, indeed, I have sometimes seen on Holy Thursday fuch dainty devices of flowers wrought by ruftical artists at Tiffington, in roses, and violets, and marygolds, and ladysmocks, as I could not but admire how it was all contrived; and for this the country folks and shepherds scatter themselves, fome days before, in busy cheerful companies, like bees, over the hills and down the dales, to cull their stores of wild flowers; and every one willingly robs his garden, for a contribution to the bowers and arbours that overhang the wells: and there they weave them into curious inventions of mottoes and scripture texts. And when the happy holy morning breaks, they come together to church; and after service they walk, with their loved and loving parfon at their head, in a proceffion round about their ornamental wells, with mufic

and finging of pfalms: and so they pass the rest of the day in innocent mirth and country sports. And I may tell you, the many-coloured flowers. of Dove Dale are offered for a tribute to this calendar feftival.

Painter. You have made we wish and refolve to fee this well-flowering, come next Holy Thursday; and I shall love those sacred springs the better, fince they help to cryftallize the waters of Bentley; for I have not seen a more inviting brook.

Angler. I will not fay we fhall come to clearer streams; nevertheless, I hope we may walk and angle by fome others that are as good but thither she hurries on her way, rejoicing and being rejoiced; and I warrant she will find the Dove before you and I may do fo. But come, here is another hill before us, hard by Thorpe Cloud; and I'll requite your patience by a vernal profpect. Follow me but step to the left, and now what say you? Painter. Blefs me, what an unusual landskip.

a

Angler. There before you are the mountains in Staffordshire over against Ilam; and yonder the Dove, which glides far off through the valley by Oakover Bridge,—and after that meanders as far as Mayfield. There you may fee

hill and dale, and green pastures, with their thronging flocks and herds. Now tell me, Sir, is not merry England a place moft fit for free-hearted gentlemen to live in? And he that makes a journey throughout the different regions of our land fhall meet a thousand vales as pleasant as this we now fee: nay, some I could name are better, where you may look on all the diversity of golden corn fields, and pastures, and vallies and hills, rivers and plains; and round about many fine country mansionhouses, and bright fteeples, gleaming through village-woods; and in the cities high cathedrals and collegiate churches, more venerable and facred by reafon of their daily appointed fervices and chaunts.

Painter. But a man may travel some miles ere he shall light on a finer champagne than this before us. It calls to my mind how the prophet, from the top of Mount Pisgah, in the field of Zophim, lifted up his eyes, and faw Ifrael abiding in his tents according to their tribes, and faid, 'How goodly are thy tents, O "Jacob! and thy tabernacles, O Ifrael! as the valleys are they spread forth, as gardens by the river's fide, as the trees of lign-aloes which the 'Lord hath planted, and as cedar-trees befide 'the waters. Long may the people of Britain

be holy and stedfaft in the church, and loyal to their king! then shall they resemble the tribes of Ifrael, having, as it were, the ftrength of an unicorn; they shall eat up the nations, their 'enemies, and fhall break their bones, and pierce 'them through with their arrows." Then they

fhall couch, they fhall lie down like a lion, and

as a great lion; who shall stir them up?' Then bleffed is he that blesseth thee, and cursed is he 'that curseth thee.' But what have we here, that is like a huge conical barrow? Let us climb to the top, that we may get a wider profpect of the landskip.

Angler. The fame Thorpe Cloud you faw so towering in the distance from Spittle Hill; but he now appears under another aspect, and before you could fcale the height you must needs descend into a deep valley which lies be

tween us.

Painter. Say you fo? I can scarce believe it; for the distance looks to be less than a bow-fhoot.

Angler. It is, nevertheless, true; and yonder, to the left, is Bunfter Hill, in Staffordshire, that is like the back of a gigantic elephant: and between these two mountains flow the happy ftreams of the Dove; and that to the right hand is Black Moor; we have but two miles

hence, and then our Dove.

Painter. If fo, let us mend our pace; but tell me, is this the way Mr. Cotton brought his friend?

Angler. The fame; and all the while he entertained him with a difcourfe of the trouty rivers of his county of Derby, as, namely, the Dove, the Wye, the Derwent, and the great Trent, that wanders through many rich towns and forests, until it loses its name and waters in the fea.

Painter. And is all Mr. Charles Cotton's treatise of fly fishing in the form of a dialogue? Angler. Aye; and full of pertinent obfervations and exceeding plaufibleness.

Painter. Although I am willing to confefs Mr. Walton's Angler to be a most persuasive book, because he knows how to qualify his discourse with all kinds of graceful changes and descriptions; yet methinks Mr. Cotton had no need to model his writings after the unusual example of a dialogue.

Angler. By your leave, not fo unusual; for have you forgot the many patterns that almost every age hath produced, of treatifes, both learned and witty, in the form of colloquies ? Let me bring to your mind that most subtle and philofophic dialogue, the Symposiac, or