gives the feeling of the open air: we walk with him along
the dusty road-side, or repose on the banks of the river under a shady
tree; and in watching for the finny prey, imbibe what he beautifully
calls "the patience and simplicity of poor honest fishermen." We
accompany them to their inn at night, and partake of their simple, but
delicious fare; while Maud, the pretty milk-maid, at her mother's
desire, sings the classical ditties of the poet Marlow; "Come live with
me, and be my love." Good cheer is not neglected in this work, any more
than in Homer, or any other history that sets a proper value on the good
things of this life. The prints in the Complete Angler give an
additional reality and interest to the scenes it describes. While
Tottenham Cross shall stand, and longer, thy work, amiable and happy old
man, shall last!--It is in the notes to it that we find that character
of "a fair and happy milkmaid," by Sir Thomas Overbury, which may vie in
beauty and feeling with Chaucer's character of Griselda.

"A fair and happy milk-maid is a country wench that is so far from
making herself beautiful by art, that one look of her's is able to put
all face-physic out of countenance. She knows a fair look is but a dumb
orator to commend virtue, therefore minds it not. All her excellences
stand in her so silently, as if they had stolen upon her without her
knowledge. The lining of her apparel (which is herself) is far better
than outsides of tissue; for though she be not arrayed in the spoil of
the silkworm, she is decked in innocency, a far better wearing. She doth
not, with lying long in bed, spoil both her complexion and conditions.
Nature hath taught her, too immoderate sleep is rust to the soul: she
rises therefore with chanticleer, her dame's cock, and at night makes
the lamb her curfew. Her breath is her own, which scents all the year
long of June, like a new-made haycock. She makes her hand hard with
labour, and her heart soft with pity; and when winter evenings fall
early (sitting at her merry wheel) she sings a defiance to the giddy
wheel of Fortune. She doth all things with so sweet a grace, it seems
ignorance will not suffer her to do ill, being her mind is to do well.
She bestows her year's wages at next fair; and in choosing her garments,
counts no bravery in the world like decency. The garden and bee-hive are
all her physic and chirurgery, and she lives the longer for't. She dares
go alone, and un