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“THERE are no colors in the fairest sky
So fair as these. The feather whence the pen
Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men,
Dropped from an angel's wing With moistened eye
We read of faith and purest charity
In statesman, priest, and humble citizen.
O, could we copy their mild virtues, then
What joy to live, what blessedness to die
Methinks their very names shine still and bright
Apart — like glow-worms in the woods of spring,
Or lonely tapers shooting far a light
That guides and cheers—or seen, like stars on high,
Satellites burning in a lucid ring
Around meek Walton's heavenly memory.”
WoRD sworth.


No one, it is believed, will be disposed to dispute the claims of “Izaak Walton's Lives,” to a place in the Library of Old English Prose Writers. They are admitted at an early stage of the series, from the circumstance that these delightful pieces of biography are very little known in this country, Whilst that charming pastoral, “The Complete Angler,” is familiar to every one who pretends to any acquaintance with old English literature, the “Lives” are in comparatively few hands. The Editor will consider himself amply compensated for any care he may have expended upon the publication of these volumes, if thereby he shall contribute in any degree to their being more widely known and more justly appreciated.

The present edition, so far as the text is concerned, is an exact copy of Zouch's, which is

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