worm throughout the whole year, no one month excepted." Precocity does not flourish in Scotland. Never do any thing in a hurry. In good time for all good purposes of angling,--not too soon, but not a minute too late, have come our commendations of this admirable treatise and manual. What does it lack? any thing? no, not even a "SIMPLE RECIPE FOR COOKING A WHITLING OR GOOD TROUT BY THE RIVER-SIDE." What a smack there is here of inimitable and beloved Isaac! But, before we part, Mr Stoddart shall pronounce his benison. "Angler! that all day long hast wandered by sunny stream, and heart and hand plied the meditative art--who hast filled thy pannier brimful of star-sided trout, and with aching arms, and weary back, and faint wavering step, crossed the threshold of some cottage inn--a smiling, rural retreat that starts up when thy wishes are waning into despondency,--how grateful to thee is the merry song of the frying-pan, strewn over with the daintiest of thy spoils, and superintended by a laughter-loving hostess and her blooming image! and thou, too, slayer of salmon! more matured and fastidious, what sound when thy reel is at rest, like the bubbling and frothing of the fish-kettle! what fare more acceptable than the shoulder-cut, snowed over with curd, of a gallant sixteen-pounder; and where, in the wide world, is to be found wholesomer and heartier sauce, to the one as well as to the other, than a goblet generously mixed of Islay, and piping hot? Stretch thy hand over thy mercies, and be thankful." Indispensable in all time to come, as the very strength and grace of an angler's Tackle and Equipment in Scotland, must and will be "STODDART'S ANGLER'S COMPANION." THE CAXTONS.--PART III. BOOK II.--CHAPTER I. It was a beautiful summer afternoon when the coach set me down at my father's gate. Mrs Primmins herself ran out to welcome me; and I had scarcely escaped from the warm clasp of her friendly hand, before I was in the arms of my mother. As soon as that tenderest of parents was convinced that I was not famished, seeing that I had dined two hours ago at Dr Herman's, she led me gently across the garden towards the arbour. "You will find your father so cheerful," said she, wiping away a tear. "His brother is with him." I stopped. _His_ brother! Will the reader believe it?--I had never heard that he had a brother, so little were family affairs ever discussed in my hearing. "_His_ brother!" said I. "Have I then an Uncle Caxton as well as an Uncle Jack?" "Yes, my love," said my mother. And then she added, "Your father and he were not such good friends as they ought to have been, and the Captain has been abroad. However, thank heaven! they are now quite reconciled."