ss of heart,
nor belief. His was one of those happy characters which are never found
disassociated from unquestioning faith. Of old he might have been the
ancient religious Athenian in the opening of Plato's _Republic_, or
Virgil's aged gardener. The happiness of such natures would be
incomplete without religion, but only by such tranquil and blessed souls
can religion be accepted with no doubt or scruple, no dread, and no
misgiving. In his Preface to _Thealma and Clearchus_ Walton writes, and
we may use his own words about his own works: 'The Reader will here find
such various events and rewards of innocent Truth and undissembled
Honesty, as is like to leave in him (if he be a good-natured reader) more
sympathising and virtuous impressions, than ten times so much time spent
in impertinent, critical, and needless disputes about religion.' Walton
relied on authority; on 'a plain, unperplexed catechism.' In an age of
the strangest and most dissident theological speculations, an age of
Quakers, Anabaptists, Antinomians, Fifth Monarchy Men, Covenanters,
Independents, Gibbites, Presbyterians, and what not, Walton was true to
the authority of the Church of England, with no prejudice against the
ancient Catholic faith. As Gesner was his authority for pickerel weed
begetting pike, so the Anglican bishops were security for Walton's creed.

To him, if we may say so, it was easy to be saved, while Bunyan, a
greater humorist, could be saved only in following a path that skirted
madness, and 'as by fire.' To Bunyan, Walton would have seemed a figure
like his own Ignorance; a pilgrim who never stuck in the Slough of
Despond, nor met Apollyon in the Valley of the Shadow, nor was captive in
Doubting Castle, nor stoned in Vanity Fair. And of Bunyan, Walton would
have said that he was among those Nonconformists who 'might be sincere,
well-meaning men, whose indiscreet zeal might be so like charity, as
thereby to cover a multitude of errors.' To Walton there seemed
spiritual solace in remembering 'that we have comforted and been helpful
to a dejected or distressed family.' Bunyan would have regarded this
belief as a heresy, and (theoretically) charitable deeds 'as filthy
rags.' Differently constituted, these excellent men accepted religion in
different ways. Christian bows beneath a burden of sin; Piscator beneath
a basket of trout. Let us be grateful for the diversities of human
nature, and the dissimilar paths which lead Pi