{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_683/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_683","id":"gutenberg_683","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/683","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Sports/Hobbies","Fishing -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"Produced by Tokuya Matsumoto <toqyam@os.rim.or.jp>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIZAAK WALTON\n\n\n\nTHE COMPLEAT ANGLER\n\n\n\n\nTo the Right worshipful\n\nJohn Offley\n\nof Madeley Manor, in the County of Stafford\n\nEsquire, My most honoured Friend\n\nSir,--I have made so ill use of your former favours, as by them to be\nencouraged to entreat, that they may be enlarged to the patronage and\nprotection of this Book: and I have put on a modest confidence, that I\nshall not be denied, because it is a discourse of Fish and Fishing,\nwhich you know so well, and both love and practice so much.\n\nYou are assured, though there be ignorant men of another belief, that\nAngling is an Art: and you know that Art better than others; and that\nthis is truth is demonstrated by the fruits of that pleasant labour\nwhich you enjoy, when you purpose to give rest to your mind, and divest\nyourself of your more serious business, and, which is often, dedicate a\nday or two to this recreation.\n\nAt which time, if common Anglers should attend you, and be eyewitnesses\nof the success, not of your fortune, but your skill, it would doubtless\nbeget in them an emulation to be like you, and that emulation might\nbeget an industrious diligence to be so; but I know it is not attainable\nby common capacities: and there be now many men of great wisdom,\nlearning, and experience, which love and practice this Art, that know I\nspeak the truth.\n\nSir, this pleasant curiosity of Fish and Fishing, of which you are so\ngreat a master, has been thought worthy the pens and practices of divers\nin other nations, that have been reputed men of great learning and\nwisdom. And amongst those of this nation, I remember Sir Henry Wotton, a\ndear lover of this Art, has told me, that his intentions were to write a\nDiscourse of the Art, and in praise of Angling; and doubtless he had\ndone so, if death had not prevented him; the remembrance of which had\noften made me sorry, for if he had lived to do it, then the unlearned\nAngler had seen some better treatise of this Art, a treatise that might\nhave proved worthy his perusal, which, though some have undertaken, I\ncould never yet see in English.\n\nBut mine may be thought as weak, and as unworthy of common view; and I\ndo here freely confess, that I should rather excuse myself, than censure\nothers, my own discourse being liable to so many exceptions; against\nwhich you, Sir, might make this one, that it can contribute nothing to\nYOUR knowledge. And lest a longer epistle may diminish your pleasure, I\nshall make this no longer than to add this following truth, that I am\nreally,\n\nSir,\n\nyour most affectionate Friend,\n\nand most humble Servant,\n\nIz. Wa.\n\n\n\n\nThe epistle to the reader\n\nTo all Readers of this discourse, but especially to the honest Angler\n\nI think fit to tell thee these following truths; that I did neither\nundertake, nor write, nor publish, and much less own, this Discourse to\nplease myself: and, having been too easily drawn to do all to please\nothers, as I propose not the gaining of credit by this undertaking, so I\nwould not willingly lose any part of that to which I had a just title\nbefore I began it; and do therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not\ncommendations, yet I may obtain pardon.\n\nAnd though this Discourse may be liable to some exceptions, yet I cannot\ndoubt but that most Readers may receive so much pleasure or profit by\nit, as may make it worthy the time of their perusal, if they be not too\ngrave or too busy men. And this is all the confidence that I can put on,\nconcerning the merit of what is here offered to their consideration and\ncensure; and if the last prove too severe, as I have a liberty, so I am\nresolved to use it, and neglect all sour censures.\n\nAnd I wish the Reader also to take notice, that in writing of it I have\nmade myself a recreation of a recreation; and that it might prove so to\nhim, and not read dull and tediously, I have in several places mixed,\nnot any scurrility, but some innocent, harmless mirth, of which, if thou\nbe a severe, sour-complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a\ncompetent judge; for divines say, there are offences given, and offences\nnot given but taken.\n\nAnd I am the willinger to justify the pleasant part of it, because\nthough it is known I can be serious at seasonable times, yet the whole\nDiscourse is, or rather was, a picture of my own disposition, especially\nin such days and times as I have laid aside business, and gone a-fishing\nwith honest Nat. and R. Roe; but they are gone, and with them most of my\npleasant hours, even as a shadow that passeth away and returns not.\n\nAnd next let me add this, that he that likes not the book, should like\nthe excellent picture of the Trout, and some of the other fish, which I\nmay take a liberty to commend, because they concern not myself.\n\nNext, let me tell the Reader, that in that which is the more useful part\nof this Discourse, that is to say, the observations of the nature and\nbreeding, and seasons, and catching of fish, I am not so simple as not\nto know, that a captious reader may find exceptions against something\nsaid of some of these; and therefore I must entreat him to consider,\nthat experience teaches us to know that several countries alter the\ntime, and I think, almost the manner, of fishes' breeding, but doubtless\nof their being in season; as may appear by three rivers in\nMonmouthshire, namely, Severn, Wye, and Usk, where Camden observes, that\nin the river Wye, Salmon are in season from September to April; and we\nare certain, that in Thames and Trent, and in most other rivers, they be\nin season the six hotter months.\n\nNow for the Art of catching fish, that is to say, How to make a man that\nwas none to be an Angler by a book, he that undertakes it shall\nundertake a harder task than Mr. Hales, a most valiant and excellent\nfencer, who in a printed book called A Private School of Defence\nundertook to teach that art or science, and was laughed at for his\nlabour. Not but that many useful things might be learned by that book,\nbut he was laughed at because that art was not to be taught by words,\nbut practice: and so must Angling. And note also, that in this Discourse\nI do not undertake to say all that is known, or may be said of it, but I\nundertake to acquaint the Reader with many things that are not usually\nknown to every Angler; and I shall leave gleanings and observations\nenough to be made out of the experience of all that love and practice\nthis recreation, to which I shall encourage them. For Angling may be\nsaid to be so like the Mathematicks, that it can never be fully learnt;\nat least not so fully, but that there will still be more new experiments\nleft for the trial of other men that succeed us.\n\nBut I think all that love this game may here learn something that may be\nworth their money, if they be not poor and needy men: and in case they\nbe, I then wish them to forbear to buy it; for I write not to get money,\nbut for pleasure, and this Discourse boasts of no more, for I hate to\npromise much, and deceive the Reader.\n\nAnd however it proves to him, yet I am sure I have found a high content\nin the search and conference of what is here offered to the Reader's\nview and censure. I wish him as much in the perusal of it, and so I\nmight here take my leave; but will stay a little and tell him, that\nwhereas it is said by many, that in fly-fishing for a Trout, the Angler\nmust observe his twelve several flies for the twelve months of the year,\nI say, he that follows that rule, shall be as sure to catch fish, and be\nas wise, as he that makes hay by the fair days in an Almanack, and no\nsurer; for those very flies that used to appear about, and on, the water\nin one month of the year, may the following year come almost a month\nsooner or later, as the same year proves colder or hotter: and yet, in\nthe following Discourse, I have set down the twelve flies that are in\nreputation with many anglers; and they may serve to give him some\nobservations concerning them. And he may note, that there are in Wales,\nand other countries, peculiar flies, proper to the particular place or\ncountry; and doubtless, unless a man makes a fly to counterfeit that\nvery fly in that place, he is like to lose his labour, or much of it;\nbut for the generality, three or four flies neat and rightly made, and\nnot too big, serve for a Trout in most rivers, all the summer: and for\nwinter fly-fishing it is as useful as an Almanack out of date. And of\nthese, because as no man is born an artist, so no man is born an Angler,\nI thought fit to give thee this notice.\n\nWhen I have told the reader, that in this fifth impression there are\nmany enlargements, gathered both by my own observation, and the\ncommunication with friends, I shall stay him no longer than to wish him\na rainy evening to read this following Discourse; and that if he be an\nhonest Angler, the east wind may never blow when he goes a-fishing.\n\nI. W.\n\n\n\n\nThe first day\n\nA Conference betwixt an Angler, a Falconer, and a Hunter, each\ncommending his Recreation\n\nChapter I\n\nPiscator, Venator, Auceps\n\nPiscator. You are well overtaken, Gentlemen! A good morning to you both!\nI have stretched my legs up Tottenham Hill to overtake you, hoping your\nbusiness may occasion you towards Ware, whither I am going this fine\nfresh May morning.\n\nVenator. Sir, I, for my part, shall almost answer your hopes; for my\npurpose is to drink my morning's draught at the Thatched House in\nHoddesden; and I think not to rest till I come thither, where I have\nappointed a friend or two to meet me: but for this gentleman that you\nsee with me, I know not how far he intends his journey; he came so\nlately into my company, that I have scarce had time to ask him the\nquestion.\n\nAuceps. Sir, I shall by your favour bear you company as far as\nTheobalds, and there leave you; for then I turn up to a friend's house,\nwho mews a Hawk for me, which I now long to see.\n\nVenator. Sir, we are all so happy as to have a fine, fresh, cool\nmorning; and I hope we shall each be the happier in the others' company.\nAnd, Gentlemen, that I may not lose yours, I shall either abate or amend\nmy pace to enjoy it, knowing that, as the Italians say, \"Good company in\na journey makes the way to seem the shorter\".\n\nAuceps. It may do so, Sir, with the help of good discourse, which,\nmethinks, we may promise from you, that both look and speak so\ncheerfully: and for my part, I promise you, as an invitation to it, that\nI will be as free and open hearted as discretion will allow me to be\nwith strangers.\n\nVenator. And, Sir, I promise the like.\n\nPiscator. I am right glad to hear your answers; and, in confidence you\nspeak the truth, I shall put on a boldness to ask you, Sir, whether\nbusiness or pleasure caused you to be so early up, and walk so fast? for\nthis other gentleman hath declared he is going to see a hawk, that a\nfriend mews for him.\n\nVenator. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little business and more\npleasure; for I intend this day to do all my business, and then bestow\nanother day or two in hunting the Otter, which a friend, that I go to\nmeet, tells me is much pleasanter than any other chase whatsoever:\nhowsoever, I mean to try it; for to-morrow morning we shall meet a pack\nof Otter-dogs of noble Mr. Sadler's, upon Amwell Hill, who will be there\nso early, that they intend to prevent the sunrising.\n\nPiscator. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires, and my purpose is to\nbestow a day or two in helping to destroy some of those villanous\nvermin: for I hate them perfectly, because they love fish so well, or\nrather, because they destroy so much; indeed so much, that, in my\njudgment all men that keep Otter-dogs ought to have pensions from the\nKing, to encourage them to destroy the very breed of those base Otters,\nthey do so much mischief.\n\nVenator. But what say you to the Foxes of the Nation, would not you as\nwillingly have them destroyed? for doubtless they do as much mischief as\nOtters do.\n\nPiscator. Oh, Sir, if they do, it is not so much to me and my\nfraternity, as those base vermin the Otters do.\n\nAuceps. Why, Sir, I pray, of what fraternity are you, that you are so\nangry with the poor Otters?\n\nPiscator. I am, Sir, a Brother of the Angle, and therefore an enemy to\nthe Otter: for you are to note, that we Anglers all love one another,\nand therefore do I hate the Otter both for my own, and their sakes who\nare of my brotherhood.\n\nVenator. And I am a lover of Hounds; I have followed many a pack of dogs\nmany a mile, and heard many merry Huntsmen make sport and scoff at\nAnglers.\n\nAuceps. And I profess myself a Falconer, and have heard many grave,\nserious men pity them, it is such a heavy, contemptible, dull\nrecreation.\n\nPiscator. You know, Gentlemen, it is an easy thing to scoff at any art\nor recreation; a little wit mixed with ill nature, confidence, and\nmalice, will do it; but though they often venture boldly, yet they are\noften caught, even in their own trap, according to that of Lucian, the\nfather of the family of Scoffers:\n\n     \"_Lucian, well skilled in scoffing, this hath writ;\n     Friend, that's your folly, which you think your wit:\n     This, you vent oft, void both of wit and fear,\n     Meaning another, when yourself you jeer._\"\n\nIf to this you add what Solomon says of Scoffers, that \"they are an\nabomination to mankind,\" let him that thinks fit scoff on, and be a\nScoffer still; but I account them enemies to me and all that love Virtue\nand Angling.\n\nAnd for you that have heard many grave, serious men pity Anglers; let me\ntell you, Sir, there be many men that are by others taken to be serious\nand grave men, whom we contemn and pity. Men that are taken to be grave,\nbecause nature hath made them of a sour complexion; money-getting men,\nmen that spend all their time, first in getting, and next, in anxious\ncare to keep it; men that are condemned to be rich, and then always busy\nor discontented: for these poor rich-men, we Anglers pity them\nperfectly, and stand in no need to borrow their thoughts to think\nourselves so happy. No, no, Sir, we enjoy a contentedness above the\nreach of such dispositions, and as the learned and ingenuous Montaigne\nsays, like himself, freely, \"When my Cat and I entertain each other with\nmutual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who knows but that I make\nmy Cat more sport than she makes me? Shall I conclude her to be simple,\nthat has her time to begin or refuse, to play as freely as I myself\nhave? Nay, who knows but that it is a defect of my not understanding her\nlanguage, for doubtless Cats talk and reason with one another, that we\nagree no better: and who knows but that she pities me for being no wiser\nthan to play with her, and laughs and censures my folly, for making\nsport for her, when we two play together?\"\n\nThus freely speaks Montaigne concerning Cats; and I hope I may take as\ngreat a liberty to blame any man, and laugh at him too, let him be never\nso grave, that hath not heard what Anglers can say in the justification\nof their Art and Recreation; which I may again tell you, is so full of\npleasure, that we need not borrow their thoughts, to think ourselves\nhappy.\n\nVenator. Sir, you have almost amazed me; for though I am no Scoffer, yet\nI have, I pray let me speak it without offence, always looked upon\nAnglers, as more patient, and more simple men, than I fear I shall find\nyou to be.\n\nPiscator. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestness to be\nimpatience: and for my simplicity, if by that you mean a harmlessness,\nor that simplicity which was usually found in the primitive Christians,\nwho were, as most Anglers are, quiet men, and followers of peace; men\nthat were so simply wise, as not to sell their consciences to buy\nriches, and with them vexation and a fear to die; if you mean such\nsimple men as lived in those times when there were fewer lawyers; when\nmen might have had a lordship safely conveyed to them in a piece of\nparchment no bigger than your hand, though several sheets will not do it\nsafely in this wiser age; I say, Sir, if you take us Anglers to be such\nsimple men as I have spoke of, then myself and those of my profession\nwill be glad to be so understood: But if by simplicity you meant to\nexpress a general defect in those that profess and practice the\nexcellent Art of Angling, I hope in time to disabuse you, and make the\ncontrary appear so evidently, that if you will but have patience to hear\nme, I shall remove all the anticipations that discourse, or time, or\nprejudice, have possessed you with against that laudable and ancient\nArt; for I know it is worthy the knowledge and practice of a wise man.\n\nBut, Gentlemen, though I be able to do this, I am not so unmannerly as\nto engross all the discourse to myself; and, therefore, you two having\ndeclared yourselves, the one to be a lover of Hawks, the other of\nHounds, I shall be most glad to hear what you can say in the\ncommendation of that recreation which each of you love and practice; and\nhaving heard what you can say, I shall be glad to exercise your\nattention with what I can say concerning my own recreation and Art of\nAngling, and by this means we shall make the way to seem the shorter:\nand if you like my motion, I would have Mr. Falconer to begin.\n\nAuceps. Your motion is consented to with all my heart; and to testify\nit, I will begin as you have desired me.\n\nAnd first, for the Element that I use to trade in, which is the Air, an\nelement of more worth than weight, an element that doubtless exceeds\nboth the Earth and Water; for though I sometimes deal in both, yet the\nair is most properly mine, I and my Hawks use that most, and it yields\nus most recreation. It stops not the high soaring of my noble, generous\nFalcon; in it she ascends to such a height as the dull eyes of beasts\nand fish are not able to reach to; their bodies are too gross for such\nhigh elevations; in the Air my troops of Hawks soar up on high, and when\nthey are lost in the sight of men, then they attend upon and converse\nwith the Gods; therefore I think my Eagle is so justly styled Jove's\nservant in ordinary: and that very Falcon, that I am now going to see,\ndeserves no meaner a title, for she usually in her flight endangers\nherself, like the son of Daedalus, to have her wings scorched by the\nsun's heat, she flies so near it, but her mettle makes her careless of\ndanger; for she then heeds nothing, but makes her nimble pinions cut the\nfluid air, and so makes her highway over the steepest mountains and\ndeepest rivers, and in her glorious career looks with contempt upon\nthose high steeples and magnificent palaces which we adore and wonder\nat; from which height, I can make her to descend by a word from my\nmouth, which she both knows and obeys, to accept of meat from my hand,\nto own me for her Master, to go home with me, and be willing the next\nday to afford me the like recreation.\n\nAnd more; this element of air which I profess to trade in, the worth of\nit is such, and it is of such necessity, that no creature whatsoever--not\nonly those numerous creatures that feed on the face of the earth, but\nthose various creatures that have their dwelling within the waters,\nevery creature that hath life in its nostrils, stands in need of my\nelement. The waters cannot preserve the Fish without air, witness the\nnot breaking of ice in an extreme frost; the reason is, for that if the\ninspiring and expiring organ of any animal be stopped, it suddenly\nyields to nature, and dies. Thus necessary is air, to the existence both\nof Fish and Beasts, nay, even to Man himself; that air, or breath of\nlife, with which God at first inspired mankind, he, if he wants it, dies\npresently, becomes a sad object to all that loved and beheld him, and in\nan instant turns to putrefaction.\n\nNay more; the very birds of the air, those that be not Hawks, are both\nso many and so useful and pleasant to mankind, that I must not let them\npass without some observations. They both feed and refresh him; feed him\nwith their choice bodies, and refresh him with their heavenly voices. I\nwill not undertake to mention the several kinds of Fowl by which this is\ndone: and his curious palate pleased by day, and which with their very\nexcrements afford him a soft lodging at night. These I will pass by, but\nnot those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their\ncurious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of\nart.\n\nAs first the Lark, when she means to rejoice, to cheer herself and those\nthat hear her; she then quits the earth, and sings as she ascends higher\ninto the air and having ended her heavenly employment, grows then mute,\nand sad, to think she must descend to the dull earth, which she would\nnot touch, but for necessity.\n\nHow do the Blackbird and Thrassel with their melodious voices bid\nwelcome to the cheerful Spring, and in their fixed months warble forth\nsuch ditties as no art or instrument can reach to!\n\nNay, the smaller birds also do the like in their particular seasons, as\nnamely the Laverock, the Tit-lark, the little Linnet, and the honest\nRobin that loves mankind both alive and dead.\n\nBut the Nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet\nloud musick out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make\nmankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the\nvery labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the\nclear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the\ndoubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth,\nand say, \"Lord, what musick hast thou provided for the Saints in Heaven,\nwhen thou affordest bad men such musick on Earth!\"\n\nAnd this makes me the less to wonder at the many Aviaries in Italy, or\nat the great charge of Varro's Aviary, the ruins of which are yet to be\nseen in Rome, and is still so famous there, that it is reckoned for one\nof those notables which men of foreign nations either record, or lay up\nin their memories when they return from travel.\n\nThis for the birds of pleasure, of which very much more might be said.\nMy next shall be of birds of political use. I think it is not to be\ndoubted that Swallows have been taught to carry letters between two\narmies; but 'tis certain that when the Turks besieged Malta or Rhodes, I\nnow remember not which it was, Pigeons are then related to carry and\nrecarry letters: and Mr. G. Sandys, in his Travels, relates it to be\ndone betwixt Aleppo and Babylon, But if that be disbelieved, it is not\nto be doubted that the Dove was sent out of the ark by Noah, to give him\nnotice of land, when to him all appeared to be sea; and the Dove proved\na faithful and comfortable messenger. And for the sacrifices of the law,\na pair of Turtle-doves, or young Pigeons, were as well accepted as\ncostly Bulls and Rams; and when God would feed the Prophet Elijah, after\na kind of miraculous manner, he did it by Ravens, who brought him meat\nmorning and evening. Lastly, the Holy Ghost, when he descended visibly\nupon our Saviour, did it by assuming the shape of a Dove. And, to\nconclude this part of my discourse, pray remember these wonders were\ndone by birds of air, the element in which they, and I, take so much\npleasure.\n\nThere is also a little contemptible winged creature, an inhabitant of my\naerial element, namely the laborious Bee, of whose prudence, policy, and\nregular government of their own commonwealth, I might say much, as also\nof their several kinds, and how useful their honey and wax are both for\nmeat and medicines to mankind; but I will leave them to their sweet\nlabour, without the least disturbance, believing them to be all very\nbusy at this very time amongst the herbs and flowers that we see nature\nputs forth this May morning.\n\nAnd now to return to my Hawks, from whom I have made too long a\ndigression. You are to note, that they are usually distinguished into\ntwo kinds; namely, the long-winged, and the short-winged Hawk: of the\nfirst kind, there be chiefly in use amongst us in this nation,\n\n    The Gerfalcon and Jerkin,\n    The Falcon and Tassel-gentle,\n    The Laner and Laneret,\n    The Bockerel and Bockeret,\n    The Saker and Sacaret,\n    The Merlin and Jack Merlin,\n    The Hobby and Jack:\n    There is the Stelletto of Spain,\n    The Blood-red Rook from Turkey,\n    The Waskite from Virginia:\n    And there is of short-winged Hawks,\n    The Eagle and Iron\n    The Goshawk and Tarcel,\n    The Sparhawk and Musket,\n    The French Pye of two sorts:\n\nThese are reckoned Hawks of note and worth; but we have also of an\ninferior rank,\n\n    The Stanyel, the Ringtail,\n    The Raven, the Buzzard,\n    The Forked Kite, the Bald Buzzard,\n    The Hen-driver, and others that I forbear to name.\n\nGentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse to the observation of the\nEires, the Brancher, the Ramish Hawk, the Haggard, and the two sorts of\nLentners, and then treat of their several Ayries, their Mewings, rare\norder of casting, and the renovation of their feathers: their\nreclaiming, dieting, and then come to their rare stories of practice; I\nsay, if I should enter into these, and many other observations that I\ncould make, it would be much, very much pleasure to me: but lest I\nshould break the rules of civility with you, by taking up more than the\nproportion of time allotted to me, I will here break off, and entreat\nyou, Mr. Venator, to say what you are able in the commendation of\nHunting, to which you are so much affected; and if time will serve, I\nwill beg your favour for a further enlargement of some of those several\nheads of which I have spoken. But no more at present.\n\nVenator. Well, Sir, and I will now take my turn, and will first begin\nwith a commendation of the Earth, as you have done most excellently of\nthe Air; the Earth being that element upon which I drive my pleasant,\nwholesome, hungry trade. The Earth is a solid, settled element; an\nelement most universally beneficial both to man and beast; to men who\nhave their several recreations upon it, as horse-races, hunting, sweet\nsmells, pleasant walks: the earth feeds man, and all those several\nbeasts that both feed him, and afford him recreation. What pleasure doth\nman take in hunting the stately Stag, the generous Buck, the wild Boar,\nthe cunning Otter, the crafty Fox, and the fearful Hare! And if I may\ndescend to a lower game, what pleasure is it sometimes with gins to\nbetray the very vermin of the earth; as namely, the Fichat, the\nFulimart, the Ferret, the Pole-cat, the Mouldwarp, and the like\ncreatures that live upon the face, and within the bowels of, the Earth.\nHow doth the Earth bring forth herbs, flowers, and fruits, both for\nphysick and the pleasure of mankind! and above all, to me at least, the\nfruitful vine, of which when I drink moderately, it clears my brain,\ncheers my heart, and sharpens my wit. How could Cleopatra have feasted\nMark Antony with eight wild Boars roasted whole at one supper, and other\nmeat suitable, if the earth had not been a bountiful mother? But to pass\nby the mighty Elephant, which the Earth breeds and nourisheth, and\ndescend to the least of creatures, how doth the earth afford us a\ndoctrinal example in the little Pismire, who in the summer provides and\nlays up her winter provision, and teaches man to do the like! The earth\nfeeds and carries those horses that carry us. If I would be prodigal of\nmy time and your patience, what might not I say in commendations of the\nearth? That puts limits to the proud and raging sea, and by that means\npreserves both man and beast, that it destroys them not, as we see it\ndaily doth those that venture upon the sea, and are there shipwrecked,\ndrowned, and left to feed Haddocks; when we that are so wise as to keep\nourselves on earth, walk, and talk, and live, and eat, and drink, and go\na hunting: of which recreation I will say a little, and then leave Mr.\nPiscator to the commendation of Angling.\n\nHunting is a game for princes and noble persons; it hath been highly\nprized in all ages; it was one of the qualifications that Xenophon\nbestowed on his Cyrus, that he was a hunter of wild beasts. Hunting\ntrains up the younger nobility to the use of manly exercises in their\nriper age. What more manly exercise than hunting the Wild Boar, the\nStag, the Buck, the Fox, or the Hare? How doth it preserve health, and\nincrease strength and activity!\n\nAnd for the dogs that we use, who can commend their excellency to that\nheight which they deserve? How perfect is the hound at smelling, who\nnever leaves or forsakes his first scent, but follows it through so many\nchanges and varieties of other scents, even over, and in, the water, and\ninto the earth! What music doth a pack of dogs then make to any man,\nwhose heart and ears are so happy as to be set to the tune of such\ninstruments! How will a right Greyhound fix his eye on the best Buck in\na herd, single him out, and follow him, and him only, through a whole\nherd of rascal game, and still know and then kill him! For my hounds, I\nknow the language of them, and they know the language and meaning of one\nanother, as perfectly as we know the voices of those with whom we\ndiscourse daily.\n\nI might enlarge myself in the commendation of Hunting, and of the noble\nHound especially, as also of the docibleness of dogs in general; and I\nmight make many observations of land-creatures, that for composition,\norder, figure, and constitution, approach nearest to the completeness\nand understanding of man; especially of those creatures, which Moses in\nthe Law permitted to the Jews, which have cloven hoofs, and chew the\ncud; which I shall forbear to name, because I will not be so uncivil to\nMr. Piscator, as not to allow him a time for the commendation of\nAngling, which he calls an art; but doubtless it is an easy one: and,\nMr. Auceps, I doubt we shall hear a watery discourse of it, but I hope\nit will not be a long one.\n\nAuceps. And I hope so too, though I fear it will.\n\nPiscator. Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess you. I confess my\ndiscourse is like to prove suitable to my recreation, calm and quiet; we\nseldom take the name of God into our mouths, but it is either to praise\nhim, or pray to him: if others use it vainly in the midst of their\nrecreations, so vainly as if they meant to conjure, I must tell you, it\nis neither our fault nor our custom; we protest against it. But, pray\nremember, I accuse nobody; for as I would not make a \"watery discourse,\"\nso I would not put too much vinegar into it; nor would I raise the\nreputation of my own art, by the diminution or ruin of another's. And so\nmuch for the prologue to what I mean to say.\n\nAnd now for the Water, the element that I trade in. The water is the\neldest daughter of the creation, the element upon which the Spirit of\nGod did first move, the element which God commanded to bring forth\nliving creatures abundantly; and without which, those that inhabit the\nland, even all creatures that have breath in their nostrils, must\nsuddenly return to putrefaction. Moses, the great lawgiver and chief\nphilosopher, skilled in all the learning of the Egyptians, who was\ncalled the friend of God, and knew the mind of the Almighty, names this\nelement the first in the creation: this is the element upon which the\nSpirit of God did first move, and is the chief ingredient in the\ncreation: many philosophers have made it to comprehend all the other\nelements, and most allow it the chiefest in the mixtion of all living\ncreatures.\n\nThere be that profess to believe that all bodies are made of water, and\nmay be reduced back again to water only; they endeavour to demonstrate\nit thus:\n\nTake a willow, or any like speedy growing plant newly rooted in a box or\nbarrel full of earth, weigh them all together exactly when the tree\nbegins to grow, and then weigh all together after the tree is increased\nfrom its first rooting, to weigh a hundred pound weight more than when\nit was first rooted and weighed; and you shall find this augment of the\ntree to be without the diminution of one drachm weight of the earth.\nHence they infer this increase of wood to be from water of rain, or from\ndew, and not to be from any other element; and they affirm, they can\nreduce this wood back again to water; and they affirm also, the same may\nbe done in any animal or vegetable. And this I take to be a fair\ntestimony of the excellency of my element of water.\n\nThe water is more productive than the earth. Nay, the earth hath no\nfruitfulness without showers or dews; for all the herbs, and flowers,\nand fruit, are produced and thrive by the water; and the very minerals\nare fed by streams that run under ground, whose natural course carries\nthem to the tops of many high mountains, as we see by several springs\nbreaking forth on the tops of the highest hills; and this is also\nwitnessed by the daily trial and testimony of several miners.\n\nNay, the increase of those creatures that are bred and fed in the water\nare not only more and more miraculous, but more advantageous to man, not\nonly for the lengthening of his life, but for the preventing of\nsickness; for it is observed by the most learned physicians, that the\ncasting off of Lent, and other fish days, which hath not only given the\nlie to so many learned, pious, wise founders of colleges, for which we\nshould be ashamed, hath doubtless been the chief cause of those many\nputrid, shaking intermitting agues, unto which this nation of ours is\nnow more subject, than those wiser countries that feed on herbs, salads,\nand plenty of fish; of which it is observed in story, that the greatest\npart of the world now do. And it may be fit to remember that Moses\nappointed fish to be the chief diet for the best commonwealth that ever\nyet was.\n\nAnd it is observable, not only that there are fish, as namely the Whale,\nthree times as big as the mighty Elephant, that is so fierce in battle,\nbut that the mightiest feasts have been of fish. The Romans, in the\nheight of their glory, have made fish the mistress of all their\nentertainments; they have had musick to usher in their Sturgeons,\nLampreys, and Mullets, which they would purchase at rates rather to be\nwondered at than believed. He that shall view the writings of Macrobius,\nor Varro, may be confirmed and informed of this, and of the incredible\nvalue of their fish and fish-ponds.\n\nBut, Gentlemen, I have almost lost myself, which I confess I may easily\ndo in this philosophical discourse; I met with most of it very lately,\nand, I hope, happily, in a conference with a most learned physician, Dr.\nWharton, a dear friend, that loves both me and my art of Angling. But,\nhowever, I will wade no deeper into these mysterious arguments, but pass\nto such observations as I can manage with more pleasure, and less fear\nof running into error. But I must not yet forsake the waters, by whose\nhelp we have so many known advantages.\n\nAnd first, to pass by the miraculous cures of our known baths, how\nadvantageous is the sea for our daily traffick, without which we could\nnot now subsist. How does it not only furnish us with food and physick\nfor the bodies, but with such observations for the mind as ingenious\npersons would not want!\n\nHow ignorant had we been of the beauty of Florence, of the monuments,\nurns, and rarities that yet remain in and near unto old and new Rome, so\nmany as it is said will take up a year's time to view, and afford to\neach of them but a convenient consideration! And therefore it is not to\nbe wondered at, that so learned and devout a father as St. Jerome, after\nhis wish to have seen Christ in the flesh, and to have heard St. Paul\npreach, makes his third wish, to have seen Rome in her glory; and that\nglory is not yet all lost, for what pleasure is it to see the monuments\nof Livy, the choicest of the historians; of Tully, the best of orators;\nand to see the bay trees that now grow out of the very tomb of Virgil!\nThese, to any that love learning, must be pleasing. But what pleasure is\nit to a devout Christian, to see there the humble house in which St.\nPaul was content to dwell, and to view the many rich statues that are\nmade in honour of his memory! nay, to see the very place in which St.\nPeter and he lie buried together! These are in and near to Rome. And how\nmuch more doth it please the pious curiosity of a Christian, to see that\nplace, on which the blessed Saviour of the world was pleased to humble\nhimself, and to take our nature upon him, and to converse with men: to\nsee Mount Sion, Jerusalem, and the very sepulchre of our Lord Jesus! How\nmay it beget and heighten the zeal of a Christian, to see the devotions\nthat are daily paid to him at that place! Gentlemen, lest I forget\nmyself, I will stop here, and remember you, that but for my element of\nwater, the inhabitants of this poor island must remain ignorant that\nsuch things ever were, or that any of them have yet a being.\n\nGentlemen, I might both enlarge and lose myself in such like arguments.\nI might tell you that Almighty God is said to have spoken to a fish, but\nnever to a beast; that he hath made a whale a ship, to carry and set his\nprophet, Jonah, safe on the appointed shore. Of these I might speak, but\nI must in manners break off, for I see Theobald's House. I cry you mercy\nfor being so long, and thank you for your patience.\n\nAuceps. Sir, my pardon is easily granted you: I except against nothing\nthat you have said: nevertheless, I must part with you at this\npark-wall, for which I am very sorry; but I assure you, Mr. Piscator, I\nnow part with you full of good thoughts, not only of yourself, but your\nrecreation. And so, Gentlemen, God keep you both.\n\nPiscator. Well, now, Mr. Venator, you shall neither want time, nor my\nattention to hear you enlarge your discourse concerning hunting.\n\nVenator. Not I, Sir: I remember you said that Angling itself was of\ngreat antiquity, and a perfect art, and an art not easily attained to;\nand you have so won upon me in your former discourse, that I am very\ndesirous to hear what you can say further concerning those particulars.\n\nPiscator. Sir, I did say so: and I doubt not but if you and I did\nconverse together but a few hours, to leave you possessed with the same\nhigh and happy thoughts that now possess me of it; not only of the\nantiquity of Angling, but that it deserves commendations; and that it is\nan art, and an art worthy the knowledge and practice of a wise man.\n\nVenator. Pray, Sir, speak of them what you think fit, for we have yet\nfive miles to the Thatched House; during which walk, I dare promise you,\nmy patience and diligent attention shall not be wanting. And if you\nshall make that to appear which you have undertaken, first, that it is\nan art, and an art worth the learning, I shall beg that I may attend you\na day or two a-fishing, and that I may become your scholar, and be\ninstructed in the art itself which you so much magnify.\n\nPiscator. O, Sir, doubt not but that Angling is an art; is it not an art\nto deceive a Trout with an artificial Fly? a Trout! that is more\nsharp-sighted than any Hawk you have named, and more watchful and\ntimorous than your high-mettled Merlin is bold? and yet, I doubt not to\ncatch a brace or two to-morrow, for a friend's breakfast: doubt not\ntherefore, Sir, but that angling is an art, and an art worth your learning.\nThe question is rather, whether you be capable of learning it? angling\nis somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so: I mean, with\ninclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and\npractice: but he that hopes to be a good angler, must not only bring an\ninquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure\nof hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; but\nhaving once got and practiced it, then doubt not but angling will prove\nto be so pleasant, that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to\nitself.\n\nVenator. Sir, I am now become so full of expectation, that I long much\nto have you proceed, and in the order that you propose.\n\nPiscator. Then first, for the antiquity of Angling, of which I shall not\nsay much, but only this; some say it is as ancient as Deucalion's flood:\nothers, that Belus, who was the first inventor of godly and virtuous\nrecreations, was the first inventor of Angling: and some others say, for\nformer times have had their disquisitions about the antiquity of it,\nthat Seth, one of the sons of Adam, taught it to his sons, and that by\nthem it was derived to posterity: others say that he left it engraven on\nthose pillars which he erected, and trusted to preserve the knowledge of\nthe mathematicks, musick, and the rest of that precious knowledge, and\nthose useful arts, which by God's appointment or allowance, and his\nnoble industry, were thereby preserved from perishing in Noah's flood.\n\nThese, Sir, have been the opinions of several men, that have possibly\nendeavoured to make angling more ancient than is needful, or may well be\nwarranted; but for my part, I shall content myself in telling you, that\nangling is much more ancient than the incarnation of our Saviour; for in\nthe Prophet Amos mention is made of fish-hooks; and in the book of Job,\nwhich was long before the days of Amos, for that book is said to have\nbeen written by Moses, mention is made also of fish-hooks, which must\nimply anglers in those times.\n\nBut, my worthy friend, as I would rather prove myself a gentleman, by\nbeing learned and humble, valiant and inoffensive, virtuous and\ncommunicable, than by any fond ostentation of riches, or, wanting those\nvirtues myself, boast that these were in my ancestors; and yet I grant,\nthat where a noble and ancient descent and such merit meet in any man,\nit is a double dignification of that person; so if this antiquity of\nangling, which for my part I have not forced, shall, like an ancient\nfamily, be either an honour, or an ornament to this virtuous art which I\nprofess to love and practice, I shall be the gladder that I made an\naccidental mention of the antiquity of it, of which I shall say no more,\nbut proceed to that just commendation which I think it deserves.\n\nAnd for that, I shall tell you, that in ancient times a debate hath\nrisen, and it remains yet unresolved, whether the happiness of man in\nthis world doth consist more in contemplation or action? Concerning\nwhich, some have endeavoured to maintain their opinion of the first; by\nsaying, that the nearer we mortals come to God by way of imitation, the\nmore happy we are. And they say, that God enjoys himself only, by a\ncontemplation of his own infiniteness, eternity, power, and goodness,\nand the like. And upon this ground, many cloisteral men of great\nlearning and devotion, prefer contemplation before action. And many of\nthe fathers seem to approve this opinion, as may appear in their\ncommentaries upon the words of our Saviour to Martha.\n\nAnd on the contrary, there want not men of equal authority and credit,\nthat prefer action to be the more excellent; as namely, experiments in\nphysick, and the application of it, both for the ease and prolongation\nof man's life; by which each man is enabled to act and do good to\nothers, either to serve his country, or do good to particular persons:\nand they say also, that action is doctrinal, and teaches both art and\nvirtue, and is a maintainer of human society; and for these, and other\nlike reasons, to be preferred before contemplation.\n\nConcerning which two opinions I shall forbear to add a third, by\ndeclaring my own; and rest myself contented in telling you, my very\nworthy friend, that both these meet together, and do most properly\nbelong to the most honest, ingenuous, quiet, and harmless art of\nangling.\n\nAnd first, I shall tell you what some have observed, and I have found it\nto be a real truth, that the very sitting by the river's side is not\nonly the quietest and fittest place for contemplation, but will invite\nan angler to it: and this seems to be maintained by the learned Peter du\nMoulin, who, in his discourse of the fulfilling of Prophecies, observes,\nthat when God intended to reveal any future events or high notions to\nhis prophets, he then carried them either to the deserts, or the\nsea-shore, that having so separated them from amidst the press of people\nand business, and the cares of the world, he might settle their mind in\na quiet repose, and there make them fit for revelation.\n\nAnd this seems also to be imitated by the children of Israel, who having\nin a sad condition banished all mirth and musick from their pensive\nhearts, and having hung up their then mute harps upon the willow-trees\ngrowing by the rivers of Babylon, sat down upon those banks, bemoaning\nthe ruins of Sion, and contemplating their own sad condition.\n\nAnd an ingenious Spaniard says, that \"rivers and the inhabitants of the\nwatery element were made for wise men to contemplate, and fools to pass\nby without consideration \". And though I will not rank myself in the\nnumber of the first, yet give me leave to free myself from the last, by\noffering to you a short contemplation, first of rivers, and then of\nfish; concerning which I doubt not but to give you many observations\nthat will appear very considerable: I am sure they have appeared so to\nme, and made many an hour pass away more pleasantly, as I have sat\nquietly on a flowery bank by a calm river, and contemplated what I shall\nnow relate to you.\n\nAnd first concerning rivers; there be so many wonders reported and\nwritten of them, and of the several creatures that be bred and live in\nthem, and those by authors of so good credit, that we need not to deny\nthem an historical faith.\n\nAs namely of a river in Epirus that puts out any lighted torch, and\nkindles any torch that was not lighted. Some waters being drunk, cause\nmadness, some drunkenness, and some laughter to death. The river Selarus\nin a few hours turns a rod or wand to stone: and our Camden mentions the\nlike in England, and the like in Lochmere in Ireland. There is also a\nriver in Arabia, of which all the sheep that drink thereof have their\nwool turned into a vermilion colour. And one of no less credit than\nAristotle, tells us of a merry river, the river Elusina, that dances at\nthe noise of musick, for with musick it bubbles, dances, and grows\nsandy, and so continues till the musick ceases, but then it presently\nreturns to its wonted calmness and clearness. And Camden tells us of a\nwell near to Kirby, in Westmoreland, that ebbs and flows several times\nevery day: and he tells us of a river in Surrey, it is called Mole, that\nafter it has run several miles, being opposed by hills, finds or makes\nitself a way under ground, and breaks out again so far off, that the\ninhabitants thereabout boast, as the Spaniards do of their river Anus,\nthat they feed divers flocks of sheep upon a bridge. And lastly, for I\nwould not tire your patience, one of no less authority than Josephus,\nthat learned Jew, tells us of a river in Judea that runs swiftly all the\nsix days of the week, and stands still and rests all their sabbath.\n\nBut I will lay aside my discourse of rivers, and tell you some things of\nthe monsters, or fish, call them what you will, that they breed and feed\nin them. Pliny the philosopher says, in the third chapter of his ninth\nbook, that in the Indian Sea, the fish called Balaena or Whirlpool, is\nso long and broad, as to take up more in length and breadth than two\nacres of ground; and, of other fish, of two hundred cubits long; and\nthat in the river Ganges, there be Eels of thirty feet long. He says\nthere, that these monsters appear in that sea, only when the tempestuous\nwinds oppose the torrents of water falling from the rocks into it, and\nso turning what lay at the bottom to be seen on the water's top. And he\nsays, that the people of Cadara, an island near this place, make the\ntimber for their houses of those fish bones. He there tells us, that\nthere are sometimes a thousand of these great Eels found wrapt or\ninterwoven together He tells us there, that it appears that dolphins\nlove musick, and will come when called for, by some men or boys that\nknow, and use to feed them; and that they can swim as swift as an arrow\ncan be shot out of a bow; and much of this is spoken concerning the\ndolphin, and other fish, as may be found also in the learned Dr.\nCasaubon's Discourse of Credulity and Incredulity, printed by him about\nthe year 1670.\n\nI know, we Islanders are averse to the belief of these wonders; but\nthere be so many strange creatures to be now seen, many collected by\nJohn Tradescant, and others added by my friend Elias Ashmole, Esq., who\nnow keeps them carefully and methodically at his house near to Lambeth,\nnear London, as may get some belief of some of the other wonders I\nmentioned. I will tell you some of the wonders that you may now see, and\nnot till then believe, unless you think fit.\n\nYou may there see the Hog-fish, the Dog-fish, the Dolphin, the\nCony-fish, the Parrot-fish, the Shark, the Poison-fish, Sword-fish, and\nnot only other incredible fish, but you may there see the Salamander,\nseveral sorts of Barnacles, of Solan-Geese, the Bird of Paradise, such\nsorts of Snakes, and such Birds'-nests, and of so various forms, and so\nwonderfully made, as may beget wonder and amusement in any beholder; and\nso many hundred of other rarities in that collection, as will make the\nother wonders I spake of, the less incredible; for, you may note, that\nthe waters are Nature's store-house, in which she locks up her wonders.\n\nBut, Sir, lest this discourse may seem tedious, I shall give it a sweet\nconclusion out of that holy poet, Mr. George Herbert his divine\n\"Contemplation on God's Providence\".\n\n    Lord! who hath praise enough, nay, who hath any?\n    None can express thy works, but he that knows them;\n    And none can know thy works, they are so many,\n    And so complete, but only he that owes them.\n\n    We all acknowledge both thy power and love\n    To be exact, transcendant, and divine;\n    Who cost so strangely and so sweetly move,\n    Whilst all things have their end, yet none but thine.\n\n    Wherefore, most sacred Spirit! I here present,\n    For me, and all my fellows, praise to thee;\n    And just it is, that I should pay the rent,\n    Because the benefit accrues to me.\n\nAnd as concerning fish, in that psalm, wherein, for height of poetry and\nwonders, the prophet David seems even to exceed himself, how doth he\nthere express himself in choice metaphors, even to the amazement of a\ncontemplative reader, concerning the sea, the rivers, and the fish\ntherein contained! And the great naturalist Pliny says, \"That nature's\ngreat and wonderful power is more demonstrated in the sea than on the\nland \". And this may appear, by the numerous and various creatures\ninhabiting both in and about that element; as to the readers of Gesner,\nRondeletius, Pliny, Ausonius, Aristotle, and others, may be\ndemonstrated. But I will sweeten this discourse also out of a\ncontemplation in divine Du Bartas, who says:\n\n    God quickened in the sea, and in the rivers,\n    So many fishes of so many features,\n    That in the waters we may see all creatures,\n    Even all that on the earth are to be found,\n    As if the world were in deep waters drown'd.\n    For seas--as well as skies--have Sun, Moon, Stars\n    As well as air--Swallows, Rooks, and Stares;\n    As well as earth--Vines, Roses, Nettles, Melons,\n    Mushrooms, Pinks, Gilliflowers, and many millions\n    Of other plants, more rare, more strange than these,\n    As very fishes, living in the seas;\n    As also Rams, Calves, Horses, Hares, and Hogs,\n    Wolves, Urchins, Lions, Elephants, and Dogs;\n    Yea, Men and Maids, and, which I most admire,\n    The mitred Bishop and the cowled Friar:\n    Of which, examples, but a few years since,\n    Were strewn the Norway and Polonian prince.\n\nThese seem to be wonders; but have had so many confirmations from men of\nlearning and credit, that you need not doubt them. Nor are the number,\nnor the various shapes, of fishes more strange, or more fit for\ncontemplation, than their different natures, inclinations, and actions;\nconcerning which, I shall beg your patient ear a little longer.\n\nThe Cuttle-fish will cast a long gut out of her throat, which, like as\nan Angler doth his line, she sendeth forth, and pulleth in again at her\npleasure, according as she sees some little fish come near to her; and\nthe Cuttle-fish, being then hid in the gravel, lets the smaller fish\nnibble and bite the end of it; at which time she, by little and little,\ndraws the smaller fish so near to her, that she may leap upon her, and\nthen catches and devours her: and for this reason some have called this\nfish the Sea-angler.\n\nAnd there is a fish called a Hermit, that at a certain age gets into a\ndead fish's shell, and, like a hermit, dwells there alone, studying the\nwind and weather and so turns her shell, that she makes it defend her\nfrom the injuries that they would bring upon her.\n\nThere is also a fish called by \u00c6lian the Adonis, or Darling of the Sea;\nso called, because it is a loving and innocent fish, a fish that hurts\nnothing that hath life, and is at peace with all the numerous\ninhabitants of that vast watery element; and truly, I think most Anglers\nare so disposed to most of mankind.\n\nAnd there are, also, lustful and chaste fishes; of which I shall give\nyou examples.\n\nAnd first, what Du Bartas says of a fish called the Sargus; which,\nbecause none can express it better than he does, I shall give you in his\nown words, supposing it shall not have the less credit for being verse;\nfor he hath gathered this and other observations out of authors that\nhave been great and industrious searchers into the secrets of nature.\n\n    The adult'rous Sargus doth not only change\n    Wives every day, in the deep streams, but, strange!\n    As if the honey of sea-love delight\n    Could not suffice his ranging appetite,\n    Goes courting she-goats on the grassy shore,\n    Horning their husbands that had horns before.\n\nAnd the same author writes concerning the Cantharus, that which you\nshall also hear in his own words:\n\n    But, contrary, the constant Cantharus\n    Is ever constant to his faithful spouse\n    In nuptial duties, spending his chaste life.\n    Never loves any but his own dear wife.\n\nSir, but a little longer, and I have done.\n\nVenator. Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for your discourse seems\nto be musick, and charms me to an attention.\n\nPiscator. Why then, Sir, I will take a little liberty to tell, or rather\nto remember you what is said of Turtle-doves; first, that they silently\nplight their troth, and marry; and that then the survivor scorns, as the\nThracian women are said to do, to outlive his or her mate, and this is\ntaken for a truth; and if the survivor shall ever couple with another,\nthen, not only the living, but the dead, be it either the he or the she,\nis denied the name and honour of a true Turtle-dove.\n\nAnd to parallel this land-rarity, and teach mankind moral faithfulness,\nand to condemn those that talk of religion, and yet come short of the\nmoral faith of fish and fowl, men that violate the law affirmed by St.\nPaul to be writ in their hearts, and which, he says, shall at the Last\nDay condemn and leave them without excuse--I pray hearken to what Du\nBartas sings, for the hearing of such conjugal faithfulness will be\nmusick to all chaste ears, and therefore I pray hearken to what Du\nBartas sings of the Mullet.\n\n    But for chaste love the Mullet hath no peer;\n    For, if the fisher hath surpris'd her pheer\n    As mad with wo, to shore she followeth\n    Prest to consort him, both in life and death.\n\nOn the contrary, what shall I say of the House-Cock, which treads any\nhen; and, then, contrary to the Swan, the Partridge, and Pigeon, takes\nno care to hatch, to feed, or cherish his own brood, but is senseless,\nthough they perish. And it is considerable, that the Hen, which, because\nshe also takes any Cock, expects it not, who is sure the chickens be her\nown, hath by a moral impression her care and affection to her own brood\nmore than doubled, even to such a height, that our Saviour, in\nexpressing his love to Jerusalem, quotes her, for an example of tender\naffection, as his Father had done Job, for a pattern of patience.\n\nAnd to parallel this Cock, there be divers fishes that cast their spawn\non flags or stones, and then leave it uncovered, and exposed to become a\nprey and be devoured by vermin or other fishes. But other fishes, as\nnamely the Barbel, take such care for the preservation of their seed,\nthat, unlike to the Cock, or the Cuckoo, they mutually labour, both the\nspawner and the melter, to cover their spawn with sand, or watch it, or\nhide it in some secret place unfrequented by vermin or by any fish but\nthemselves.\n\nSir, these examples may, to you and others, seem strange; but they are\ntestified, some by Aristotle, some by Pliny, some by Gesner, and by many\nothers of credit; and are believed and known by divers, both of wisdom\nand experience, to be a truth; and indeed are, as I said at the\nbeginning, fit for the contemplation of a most serious and a most pious\nman. And, doubtless, this made the prophet David say, \"They that occupy\nthemselves in deep waters, see the wonderful works of God\": indeed such\nwonders and pleasures too, as the land affords not.\n\nAnd that they be fit for the contemplation of the most prudent, and\npious, and peaceable men, seems to be testified by the practice of so\nmany devout and contemplative men, as the Patriarchs and Prophets of\nold; and of the Apostles of our Saviour in our latter times, of which\ntwelve, we are sure, he chose four that were simple fishermen, whom he\ninspired, and sent to publish his blessed will to the Gentiles; and\ninspired them also with a power to speak all languages, and by their\npowerful eloquence to beget faith in the unbelieving Jews; and\nthemselves to suffer for that Saviour, whom their forefathers and they\nhad crucified; and, in their sufferings, to preach freedom from the\nincumbrances of the law, and a new way to everlasting life: this was the\nemployment of these happy fishermen. Concerning which choice, some have\nmade these observations:\n\nFirst, that he never reproved these, for their employment or calling, as\nhe did the Scribes and the Money-changers. And secondly, he found that\nthe hearts of such men, by nature, were fitted for contemplation and\nquietness; men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable spirits, as indeed most\nAnglers are: these men our blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to\nplant grace in good natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for him,\nyet these men he chose to call from their irreprovable employment of\nfishing, and gave them grace to be his disciples, and to follow him, and\ndo wonders; I say four of twelve.\n\nAnd it is observable, that it was our Saviour's will that these, our\nfour fishermen, should have a priority of nomination in the catalogue of\nhis twelve Apostles, as namely, first St. Peter, St. Andrew, St. James,\nand St. John; and, then, the rest in their order.\n\nAnd it is yet more observable, that when our blessed Saviour went up\ninto the mount, when he left the rest of his disciples, and chose only\nthree to bear him company at his Transfiguration, that those three were\nall fishermen. And it is to be believed, that all the other Apostles,\nafter they betook themselves to follow Christ, betook themselves to be\nfishermen too; for it is certain, that the greater number of them were\nfound together, fishing, by Jesus after his resurrection, as it is\nrecorded in the twenty-first chapter of St. John's gospel.\n\nAnd since I have your promise to hear me with patience, I will take a\nliberty to look back upon an observation that hath been made by an\ningenious and learned man; who observes, that God hath been pleased to\nallow those whom he himself hath appointed to write his holy will in\nholy writ, yet to express his will in such metaphors as their former\naffections or practice had inclined them to. And he brings Solomon for\nan example, who, before his conversion, was remarkably carnally amorous;\nand after, by God's appointment, wrote that spiritual dialogue, or holy\namorous love-song the Canticles, betwixt God and his church: in which he\nsays, \"his beloved had eyes like the fish-pools of Heshbon\".\n\nAnd if this hold in reason, as I see none to the contrary, then it may\nbe probably concluded, that Moses, who I told you before writ the book\nof Job, and the Prophet Amos, who was a shepherd, were both Anglers; for\nyou shall, in all the Old Testament, find fish-hooks, I think but twice\nmentioned, namely, by meek Moses the friend of God, and by the humble\nprophet Amos.\n\nConcerning which last, namely the prophet Amos, I shall make but this\nobservation, that he that shall read the humble, lowly, plain style of\nthat prophet, and compare it with the high, glorious, eloquent style of\nthe prophet Isaiah, though they be both equally true, may easily believe\nAmos to be, not only a shepherd, but a good-natured plain fisherman.\nWhich I do the rather believe, by comparing the affectionate, loving,\nlowly, humble Epistles of St. Peter, St. James, and St. John, whom we\nknow were all fishers, with the glorious language and high metaphors of\nSt. Paul, who we may believe was not.\n\nAnd for the lawfulness of fishing: it may very well be maintained by our\nSaviour's bidding St. Peter cast his hook into the water and catch a\nfish, for money to pay tribute to Caesar. And let me tell you, that\nAngling is of high esteem, and of much use in other nations. He that\nreads the Voyages of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, shall find that there he\ndeclares to have found a king and several priests a-fishing. And he that\nreads Plutarch, shall find, that Angling was not contemptible in the\ndays of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, and that they, in the midst of their\nwonderful glory, used Angling as a principal recreation. And let me tell\nyou, that in the Scripture, Angling is always taken in the best sense;\nand that though hunting may be sometimes so taken, yet it is but seldom\nto be so understood. And let me add this more: he that views the ancient\nEcclesiastical Canons, shall find hunting to be forbidden to Churchmen,\nas being a turbulent, toilsome, perplexing recreation; and shall find\nAngling allowed to clergymen, as being a harmless recreation, a\nrecreation that invites them to contemplation and quietness.\n\nI might here enlarge myself, by telling you what commendations our\nlearned Perkins bestows on Angling: and how dear a lover, and great a\npractiser of it, our learned Dr. Whitaker was; as indeed many others of\ngreat learning have been. But I will content myself with two memorable\nmen, that lived near to our own time, whom I also take to have been\nornaments to the art of Angling.\n\nThe first is Dr. Nowel, sometime dean of the cathedral church of St.\nPaul, in London, where his monument stands yet undefaced; a man that, in\nthe reformation of Queen Elizabeth, not that of Henry VIII., was so\nnoted for his meek spirit, deep learning, prudence, and piety, that the\nthen Parliament and Convocation, both, chose, enjoined, and trusted him\nto be the man to make a Catechism for public use, such a one as should\nstand as a rule for faith and manners to their posterity. And the good\nold man, though he was very learned, yet knowing that God leads us not\nto heaven by many, nor by hard questions, like an honest Angler, made\nthat good, plain, unperplexed Catechism which is printed with our good\nold Service-book. I say, this good man was a dear lover and constant\npractiser of Angling, as any age can produce: and his custom was to\nspend besides his fixed hours of prayer, those hours which, by command\nof the church, were enjoined the clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to\ndevotion by many primitive Christians, I say, besides those hours, this\ngood man was observed to spend a tenth part of his time in Angling; and,\nalso, for I have conversed with those which have conversed with him, to\nbestow a tenth part of his revenue, and usually all his fish, amongst\nthe poor that inhabited near to those rivers in which it was caught;\nsaying often, \"that charity gave life to religion \": and, at his return\nto his house, would praise God he had spent that day free from worldly\ntrouble; both harmlessly, and in a recreation that became a churchman.\nAnd this good man was well content, if not desirous, that posterity\nshould know he was an Angler; as may appear by his picture, now to be\nseen, and carefully kept, in Brazen-nose College, to which he was a\nliberal benefactor. In which picture he is drawn leaning on a desk, with\nhis Bible before him; and on one hand of him, his lines, hooks, and\nother tackling, lying in a round; and, on his other hand, are his\nAngle-rods of several sorts; and by them this is written, \"that he died\n13 Feb. 1601, being aged ninety-five years, forty-four of which he had\nbeen Dean of St. Paul's church, and that his age neither impaired his\nhearing, nor dimmed his eyes, nor weakened his memory, nor made any of\nthe faculties of his mind weak or useless\". It is said that Angling and\ntemperance were great causes of these blessings; and I wish the like to\nall that imitate him, and love the memory of so good a man.\n\nMy next and last example shall be that under-valuer of money, the late\nprovost of Eton College, Sir Henry Wotton, a man with whom I have often\nfished and conversed, a man whose foreign employments in the service of\nthis nation, and whose experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness, made\nhis company to be esteemed one of the delights of mankind. This man,\nwhose very approbation of Angling were sufficient to convince any modest\ncensurer of it, this man was also a most dear lover, and a frequent\npractiser of the art of Angling; of which he would say, \"it was an\nemployment for his idle time, which was then not idly spent\"; for\nAngling was, after tedious study, \"a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his\nspirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a\nmoderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness; and that it begat\nhabits of peace and patience in those that professed and practiced it \".\nIndeed, my friend, you will find Angling to be like the virtue of\nhumility, which has a calmness of spirit, and a world of other blessings\nattending upon it. Sir, this was the saying of that learned man.\n\nAnd I do easily believe, that peace, and patience, and a calm content,\ndid cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir Henry Wotton, because I know\nthat when he was beyond seventy years of age, he made this description\nof a part of the present pleasure that possessed him, as he sat quietly,\nin a summer's evening, on a bank a-fishing. It is a description of the\nspring; which, because it glided as soft and sweetly from his pen, as\nthat river does at this time, by which it was then made, I shall repeat\nit unto you:--\n\n    This day dame Nature seem'd in love\n    The lusty sap began to move;\n    Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines.\n    And birds had drawn their valentines.\n\n    The jealous trout, that low did lie\n    Rose at a well-dissembled fly\n    There stood my Friend, with patient skill,\n    Attending of his trembling quill.\n\n    Already were the eaves possess'd\n    With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest;\n    The groves already did rejoice\n    In Philomel's triumphing voice:\n\n    The showers were short, the weather mild,\n    The morning fresh, the evening smil'd.\n    Joan takes her neat-rubb'd pail, and now,\n    She trips to milk the sand-red cow;\n\n    Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain,\n    Joan strokes a syllabub or twain.\n    The fields and gardens were beset\n    With tulips, crocus, violet;\n\n    And now, though late, the modest rose\n    Did more than half a blush disclose.\n    Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer,\n    To welcome the new-livery'd year.\n\nThese were the thoughts that then possessed the undisturbed mind of Sir\nHenry Wotton. Will you hear the wish of another Angler, and the\ncommendation of his happy life, which he also sings in verse: viz. Jo.\nDavors, Esq.\n\n    Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink\n    Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place\n    Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink\n    With eager bite of Perch, or Bleak, or Dace;\n    And on the world and my Creator think:\n    Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t' embrace;\n    And others spend their time in base excess\n    Of wine, or worse, in war and wantonness.\n\n    Let them that list, these pastimes still pursue,\n    And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill;\n    So I the fields and meadows green may view,\n    And daily by fresh rivers walk at will\n    Among the daisies and the violets blue,\n    Red hyacinth, and yellow daffodil,\n    Purple Narcissus like the morning rays,\n    Pale gander-grass, and azure culver-keys.\n\n    I count it higher pleasure to behold\n    The stately compass of the lofty sky;\n    And in the midst thereof, like burning gold,\n    The flaming chariot of the world's great eye:\n\n    The watery clouds that in the air up-roll'd\n    With sundry kinds of painted colours fly;\n    And fair Aurora, lifting up her head,\n    Still blushing, rise from old Tithonus' bed.\n\n    The hills and mountains raised from the plains,\n    The plains extended level with the ground\n    The grounds divided into sundry veins,\n    The veins inclos'd with rivers running round;\n    These rivers making way through nature's chains,\n    With headlong course, into the sea profound;\n    The raging sea, beneath the vallies low,\n    Where lakes, and rills, and rivulets do flow:\n\n    The lofty woods, the forests wide and long,\n    Adorned with leaves and branches fresh and green,\n    In whose cool bowers the birds with many a song,\n    Do welcome with their quire the summer's Queen;\n    The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts, among\n    Are intermix'd with verdant grass between;\n    The silver-scaled fish that softly swim\n    Within the sweet brook's crystal, watery stream.\n\n    All these, and many more of his creation\n    That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see;\n    Taking therein no little delectation,\n    To think how strange, how wonderful they be:\n    Framing thereof an inward contemplation\n    To set his heart from other fancies free;\n    And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye,\n    His mind is rapt above the starry sky.\n\nSir, I am glad my memory has not lost these last verses, because they\nare somewhat more pleasant and more suitable to May-day than my harsh\ndiscourse. And I am glad your patience hath held out so long as to hear\nthem and me, for both together have brought us within the sight of the\nThatched House. And I must be your debtor, if you think it worth your\nattention, for the rest of my promised discourse, till some other\nopportunity, and a like time of leisure.\n\nVenator. Sir, you have angled me on with much pleasure to the Thatched\nHouse; and I now find your words true, \"that good company makes the way\nseem short\"; for trust me, Sir, I thought we had wanted three miles of\nthis house, till you showed it to me. But now we are at it, we'll turn\ninto it, and refresh ourselves with a cup of drink, and a little rest.\n\nPiscator. Most gladly, Sir, and we'll drink a civil cup to all the\nOtter-hunters that are to meet you to-morrow.\n\nVenator. That we will, Sir, and to all the lovers of Angling too, of\nwhich number I am now willing to be one myself; for, by the help of your\ngood discourse and company, I have put on new thoughts both of the art\nof Angling and of all that profess it; and if you will but meet me\nto-morrow at the time and place appointed, and bestow one day with me\nand my friends, in hunting the Otter, I will dedicate the next two days\nto wait upon you; and we too will, for that time, do nothing but angle,\nand talk of fish and fishing.\n\nPiscator. It is a match, Sir, I will not fail you, God willing, to be at\nAmwell Hill to-morrow morning before sun-rising.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe second day\n\nOn the Otter and the Chub\n\nChapter II\n\nPiscator, Venator, Huntsman, and Hostess\n\nVenator. My friend Piscator, you have kept time with my thoughts; for\nthe sun is just rising, and I myself just now come to this place, and\nthe dogs have just now put down an Otter. Look! down at the bottom of\nthe hill there, in that meadow, chequered with water-lilies and\nlady-smocks; there you may see what work they make; look! look! you may\nsee all busy; men and dogs; dogs and men; all busy.\n\nPiscator. Sir, I am right glad to meet you, and glad to have so fair an\nentrance into this day's sport, and glad to see so many dogs, and more\nmen, all in pursuit of the Otter. Let us compliment no longer, but join\nunto them. Come, honest Venator, let us be gone, let us make haste; I\nlong to be doing; no reasonable hedge or ditch shall hold me.\n\nVenator. Gentleman Huntsman, where found you this Otter?\n\nHuntsman. Marry, Sir, we found her a mile from this place, a-fishing. She\nhas this morning eaten the greatest part of this Trout; she has only\nleft thus much of it as you see, and was fishing for more; when we came\nwe found her just at it: but we were here very early, we were here an\nhour before sunrise, and have given her no rest since we came; sure she\nwill hardly escape all these dogs and men. I am to have the skin if we\nkill her.\n\nVenator. Why, Sir, what is the skin worth?\n\nHuntsman. It is worth ten shillings to make gloves; the gloves of an\nOtter are the best fortification for your hands that can be thought on\nagainst wet weather.\n\nPiscator. I pray, honest Huntsman, let me ask you a pleasant question:\ndo you hunt a beast or a fish?\n\nHuntsman. Sir, it is not in my power to resolve you; I leave it to be\nresolved by the college of Carthusians, who have made vows never to eat\nflesh. But, I have heard, the question hath been debated among many\ngreat clerks, and they seem to differ about it; yet most agree that her\ntail is fish: and if her body be fish too, then I may say that a fish\nwill walk upon land: for an Otter does so sometimes, five or six or ten\nmiles in a night, to catch for her young ones, or to glut herself with\nfish. And I can tell you that Pigeons will fly forty miles for a\nbreakfast: but, Sir, I am sure the Otter devours much fish, and kills\nand spoils much more than he eats. And I can tell you, that this\ndog-fisher, for so the Latins call him, can smell a fish in the water a\nhundred yards from him: Gesner says much farther: and that his stones\nare good against the falling sickness; and that there is an herb,\nBenione, which, being hung in a linen cloth near a fish-pond, or any\nhaunt that he uses, makes him to avoid the place; which proves he smells\nboth by water and land. And, I can tell you, there is brave hunting this\nwater-dog in Cornwall; where there have been so many, that our learned\nCamden says there is a river called Ottersey, which was so named by\nreason of the abundance of Otters that bred and fed in it.\n\nAnd thus much for my knowledge of the Otter; which you may now see above\nwater at vent, and the dogs close with him; I now see he will not last\nlong. Follow, therefore, my masters, follow; for Sweetlips was like to\nhave him at this last vent.\n\nVenator. Oh me! all the horse are got over the river, what shall we do\nnow? shall we follow them over the water?\n\nHuntsman. No, Sir, no; be not so eager; stay a little, and follow me;\nfor both they and the dogs will be suddenly on this side again, I\nwarrant you, and the Otter too, it may be. Now have at him with Kilbuck,\nfor he vents again.\n\nVenator. Marry! so he does; for, look! he vents in that corner. Now,\nnow, Ringwood has him: now, he is gone again, and has bit the poor dog.\nNow Sweetlips has her; hold her, Sweetlips! now all the dogs have her;\nsome above and some under water: but, now, now she is tired, and past\nlosing. Come bring her to me, Sweetlips. Look! it is a Bitch-otter, and\nshe has lately whelp'd. Let's go to the place where she was put down;\nand, not far from it, you will find all her young ones, I dare warrant\nyou, and kill them all too.\n\nHuntsman. Come, Gentlemen! come, all! let's go to the place where we put\ndown the Otter. Look you! hereabout it was that she kennelled; look you!\nhere it was indeed; for here's her young ones, no less than five: come,\nlet us kill them all.\n\nPiscator. No: I pray, Sir, save me one, and I'll try if I can make her\ntame, as I know an ingenious gentleman in Leicestershire, Mr. Nich.\nSegrave, has done; who hath not only made her tame, but to catch fish,\nand do many other things of much pleasure.\n\nHuntsman. Take one with all my heart; but let us kill the rest. And now\nlet's go to an honest ale-house, where we may have a cup of good barley\nwine, and sing \"Old Rose,\" and all of us rejoice together.\n\nVenator. Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite you along with us. I'll\nbear your charges this night, and you shall bear mine to-morrow; for my\nintention is to accompany you a day or two in fishing.\n\nPiscator. Sir, your request is granted; and I shall be right glad both\nto exchange such a courtesy, and also to enjoy your company.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe third day\n\n\n\nVenator. Well, now let's go to your sport of Angling.\n\nPiscator. Let's be going, with all my heart. God keep you all,\nGentlemen; and send you meet, this day, with another Bitch-otter, and\nkill her merrily, and all her young ones too.\n\nVenator. NOW, Piscator, where will you begin to fish?\n\nPiscator. We are not yet come to a likely place; I must walk a mile\nfurther yet before I beam.\n\nVenator. Well then, I pray, as we walk, tell me freely, how do you like\nyour lodging, and mine host and the company? Is not mine host a witty\nman?\n\nPiscator. Sir, I will tell you, presently, what I think of your host:\nbut, first, I will tell you, I am glad these Otters were killed; and I\nam sorry there are no more Otter-killers; for I know that the want of\nOtter-killers, and the not keeping the fence-months for the preservation\nof fish, will, in time, prove the destruction of all rivers. And those\nvery few that are left, that make conscience of the laws of the nation,\nand of keeping days of abstinence, will be forced to eat flesh, or\nsuffer more inconveniences than are yet foreseen.\n\nVenator. Why, Sir, what be those that you call the fence-months?\n\nPiscator. Sir, they be principally three, namely, March, April, and May:\nfor these be the usual months that Salmon come out of the sea to spawn\nin most fresh rivers. And their fry would, about a certain time, return\nback to the salt water, if they were not hindered by weirs and unlawful\ngins, which the greedy fishermen set, and so destroy them by thousands;\nas they would, being so taught by nature, change the fresh for salt\nwater. He that shall view the wise Statutes made in the 13th of Edward\nthe First, and the like in Richard the Second, may see several\nprovisions made against the destruction of fish: and though I profess no\nknowledge of the law, yet I am sure the regulation of these defects\nmight be easily mended. But I remember that a wise friend of mine did\nusually say, \"that which is everybody's business is nobody's business\":\nif it were otherwise, there could not be so many nets and fish, that are\nunder the statute size, sold daily amongst us; and of which the\nconservators of the waters should be ashamed.\n\nBut, above all, the taking fish in spawning-time may be said to be\nagainst nature: it is like taking the dam on the nest when she hatches\nher young, a sin so against nature, that Almighty God hath in the\nLevitical law made a law against it.\n\nBut the poor fish have enemies enough besides such unnatural fishermen;\nas namely, the Otters that I spake of, the Cormorant, the Bittern, the\nOsprey, the Sea-gull, the Hern, the King-fisher, the Gorara, the Puet,\nthe Swan, Goose, Duck, and the Craber, which some call the Water-rat:\nagainst all which any honest man may make a just quarrel, but I will\nnot; I will leave them to be quarrelled with and killed by others, for I\nam not of a cruel nature, I love to kill nothing but fish.\n\nAnd, now, to your question concerning your host. To speak truly, he is\nnot to me a good companion, for most of his conceits were either\nscripture jests, or lascivious jests, for which I count no man witty:\nfor the devil will help a man, that way inclined, to the first; and his\nown corrupt nature, which he always carries with him, to the latter. But\na companion that feasts the company with wit and mirth, and leaves out\nthe sin which is usually mixed with them, he is the man, and indeed such\na companion should have his charges borne; and to such company I hope to\nbring you this night; for at Trout-hall, not far from this place, where\nI purpose to lodge to-night, there is usually an Angler that proves good\ncompany. And let me tell you, good company and good discourse are the\nvery sinews of virtue. But for such discourse as we heard last night, it\ninfects others: the very boys will learn to talk and swear, as they\nheard mine host, and another of the company that shall be nameless. I am\nsorry the other is a gentleman, for less religion will not save their\nsouls than a beggar's: I think more will be required at the last great\nday. Well! you know what example is able to do; and I know what the poet\nsays in the like case, which is worthy to be noted by all parents and\npeople of civility:\n\n                 ....many a one\n    Owes to his country his religion;\n    And in another, would as strongly grow,\n    Had but his nurse or mother taught him so.\n\nThis is reason put into verse, and worthy the consideration of a wise\nman. But of this no more; for though I love civility, yet I hate severe\ncensures. I'll to my own art; and I doubt not but at yonder tree I shall\ncatch a Chub: and then we'll turn to an honest cleanly hostess, that I\nknow right well; rest ourselves there; and dress it for our dinner.\n\nVenator. Oh, Sir! a Chub is the worst fish that swims; I hoped for a\nTrout to my dinner.\n\nPiscator. Trust me, Sir, there is not a likely place for a Trout\nhereabout: and we staid so long to take our leave of your huntsmen this\nmorning, that the sun is got so high, and shines so clear, that I will\nnot undertake the catching of a Trout till evening. And though a Chub\nbe, by you and many others, reckoned the worst of fish, yet you shall\nsee I'll make it a good fish by dressing it.\n\nVenator. Why, how will you dress him?\n\nPiscator. I'll tell you by-and-by, when I have caught him. Look you\nhere, Sir, do you see? but you must stand very close, there lie upon the\ntop of the water, in this very hole, twenty Chubs. I'll catch only one\nand that shall be the biggest of them all: and that I will do so, I'll\nhold you twenty to one, and you shall see it done.\n\nVenator. Ay, marry! Sir, now you talk like an artist, and I'll say you\nare one, when I shall see you perform what you say you can do: but I yet\ndoubt it.\n\nPiscator. You shall not doubt it long; for you shall see me do it\npresently. Look! the biggest of these Chubs has had some bruise upon his\ntail, by a Pike or some other accident; and that looks like a white\nspot. That very Chub I mean to put into your hands presently; sit you\nbut down in the shade, and stay but a little while; and I'll warrant\nyou, I'll bring him to you.\n\nVenator. I'll sit down; and hope well, because you seem to be so\nconfident.\n\nPiscator. Look you, Sir, there is a trial of my skill; there he is: that\nvery Chub, that I showed you, with the white spot on his tail. And I'll\nbe as certain to make him a good dish of meat as I was to catch him:\nI'll now lead you to an honest ale-house, where we shall find a cleanly\nroom, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck about the wall.\nThere my hostess, which I may tell you is both cleanly, and handsome,\nand civil, hath dressed many a one for me; and shall now dress it after\nmy fashion, and I warrant it good meat.\n\nVenator. Come, Sir, with all my heart, for I begin to be hungry, and\nlong to be at it, and indeed to rest myself too; for though I have\nwalked but four miles this morning, yet I begin to be weary; yesterday's\nhunting hangs still upon me.\n\nPiscator. Well, Sir, and you shall quickly be at rest, for yonder is the\nhouse I mean to bring you to.\n\nCome, hostess, how do you? Will you first give us a cup of your best\ndrink, and then dress this Chub, as you dressed my last, when I and my\nfriend were here about eight or ten days ago? But you must do me one\ncourtesy, it must be done instantly.\n\nHostess. I will do it, Mr. Piscator, and with all the speed I can.\n\nPiscator. NOW, Sir, has not my hostess made haste? and does not the fish\nlook lovely?\n\nVenator. Both, upon my word, Sir; and therefore let's say grace and fall\nto eating of it.\n\nPiscator. Well, Sir, how do you like it?\n\nVenator. Trust me, 'tis as good meat as I ever tasted. Now let me thank\nyou for it, drink to you and beg a courtesy of you; but it must not be\ndenied me.\n\nPiscator. What is it, I pray, Sir? You are so modest, that methinks I may\npromise to grant it before it is asked.\n\nVenator. Why, Sir, it is, that from henceforth you would allow me to\ncall you Master, and that really I may be your scholar; for you are such\na companion, and have so quickly caught and so excellently cooked this\nfish, as makes me ambitious to be your scholar.\n\nPiscator. Give me your hand; from this time forward I will be your\nMaster, and teach you as much of this art as I am able; and will, as you\ndesire me, tell you somewhat of the nature of most of the fish that we\nare to angle for, and I am sure I both can and will tell you more than\nany common angler yet knows.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe third day-continued\n\n\nHow to fish for, and to dress, the Chavender of Chub\n\n\nChapter III\n\n\nPiscator and Venator\n\n\nPiscator. The Chub, though he eat well, thus dressed, yet as he is\nusually dressed, he does not. He is objected against, not only for being\nfull of small forked bones, dispersed through all his body, but that he\neats waterish, and that the flesh of him is not firm, but short and\ntasteless. The French esteem him so mean, as to call him Un Villain;\nnevertheless he may be so dressed as to make him very good meat; as,\nnamely, if he be a large Chub, then dress him thus:\n\nFirst, scale him, and then wash him clean, and then take out his guts;\nand to that end make the hole as little, and near to his gills, as you\nmay conveniently, and especially make clean his throat from the grass\nand weeds that are usually in it; for if that be not very clean, it will\nmake him to taste very sour. Having so done, put some sweet herbs into\nhis belly; and then tie him with two or three splinters to a spit, and\nroast him, basted often with vinegar, or rather verjuice and butter,\nwith good store of salt mixed with it.\n\nBeing thus dressed, you will find him a much better dish of meat than\nyou, or most folk, even than anglers themselves, do imagine: for this\ndries up the fluid watery humour with which all Chubs do abound. But\ntake this rule with you, That a Chub newly taken and newly dressed, is\nso much better than a Chub of a day's keeping after he is dead, that I\ncan compare him to nothing so fitly as to cherries newly gathered from a\ntree, and others that have been bruised and lain a day or two in water.\nBut the Chub being thus used, and dressed presently; and not washed\nafter he is gutted, for note, that lying long in water, and washing the\nblood out of any fish after they be gutted, abates much of their\nsweetness; you will find the Chub, being dressed in the blood, and\nquickly, to be such meat as will recompense your labour, and disabuse\nyour opinion.\n\nOr you may dress the Chavender or Chub thus:\n\nWhen you have scaled him, and cut off his tail and fins, and washed him\nvery clean, then chine or slit him through the middle, as a salt-fish is\nusually cut; then give him three or four cuts or scotches on the back\nwith your knife, and broil him on charcoal, or wood coal, that are free\nfrom smoke; and all the time he is a-broiling, baste him with the best\nsweet butter, and good store of salt mixed with it. And, to this, add a\nlittle thyme cut exceedingly small, or bruised into the butter. The\nCheven thus dressed hath the watery taste taken away, for which so many\nexcept against him. Thus was the Cheven dressed that you now liked so\nwell, and commended so much. But note again, that if this Chub that you\neat of had been kept till to-morrow, he had not been worth a rush. And\nremember, that his throat be washed very clean, I say very clean, and\nhis body not washed after he is gutted, as indeed no fish should be.\n\nWell, scholar, you see what pains I have taken to recover the lost\ncredit of the poor despised Chub. And now I will give you some rules how\nto catch him: and I am glad to enter you into the art of fishing by\ncatching a Chub, for there is no fish better to enter a young Angler, he\nis so easily caught, but then it must be this particular way:\n\nGo to the same hole in which I caught my Chub, where, in most hot days,\nyou will find a dozen or twenty Chevens floating near the top of the\nwater. Get two or three grasshoppers, as you go over the meadow: and get\nsecretly behind the tree, and stand as free from motion as is possible.\nThen put a grasshopper on your hook, and let your hook hang a quarter of\na yard short of the water, to which end you must rest your rod on some\nbough of the tree. But it is likely the Chubs will sink down towards the\nbottom of the water, at the first shadow of your rod (for Chub is the\nfearfullest of fishes), and will do so if but a bird flies over him and\nmakes the least shadow on the water; but they will presently rise up to\nthe top again, and there lie soaring till some shadow affrights them\nagain. I say, when they lie upon the top of the water, look out the best\nChub, which you, setting yourself in a fit place, may very easily see,\nand move your rod, as softly as a snail moves, to that Chub you intend\nto catch; let your bait fall gently upon the water three or four inches\nbefore him, and he will infallibly take the bait. And you will be as\nsure to catch him; for he is one of the leather-mouthed fishes, of which\na hook does scarce ever lose its hold; and therefore give him play\nenough before you offer to take him out of the water. Go your way\npresently; take my rod, and do as I bid you; and I will sit down and\nmend my tackling till you return back.\n\nVenator. Truly, my loving master, you have offered me as fair as I could\nwish. I'll go and observe your directions.\n\nLook you, master, what I have done, that which joys my heart, caught\njust such another Chub as yours was.\n\nPiscator. Marry, and I am glad of it: I am like to have a towardly\nscholar of you. I now see, that with advice and practice, you will make\nan Angler in a short time. Have but a love to it; and I'll warrant you.\n\nVenator. But, master! what if I could not have found a grasshopper?\n\nPiscator. Then I may tell you, That a black snail, with his belly slit,\nto show his white, or a piece of soft cheese, will usually do as well.\nNay, sometimes a worm, or any kind of fly, as the ant-fly, the\nflesh-fly, or wall-fly; or the dor or beetle which you may find under\ncow-dung; or a bob which you will find in the same place, and in time\nwill be a beetle; it is a short white worm, like to and bigger than a\ngentle; or a cod-worm; or a case-worm; any of these will do very well to\nfish in such a manner.\n\nAnd after this manner you may catch a Trout in a hot evening: when, as\nyou walk by a brook, and shall see or hear him leap at flies, then, if\nyou get a grasshopper, put it on your hook, with your line about two\nyards long; standing behind a bush or tree where his hole is: and make\nyour bait stir up and down on the top of the water. You may, if you\nstand close, be sure of a bite, but not sure to catch him, for he is not\na leather-mouthed fish. And after this manner you may fish for him with\nalmost any kind of live fly, but especially with a grasshopper.\n\nVenator. But before you go further, I pray, good master, what mean you\nby a leather-mouthed fish?\n\nPiscator. By a leather-mouthed fish, I mean such as have their teeth in\ntheir throat, as the Chub or Cheven: and so the Barbel, the Gudgeon, and\nCarp, and divers others have. And the hook being stuck into the leather,\nor skin, of the mouth of such fish, does very seldom or never lose its\nhold: but on the contrary, a Pike, a Perch, or Trout, and so some other\nfish, which have not their teeth in their throats, but in their mouths,\nwhich you shall observe to be very full of bones, and the skin very\nthin, and little of it. I say, of these fish the hook never takes so\nsure hold but you often lose your fish, unless he have gorged it.\n\nVenator. I thank you, good master, for this observation. But now what\nshall be done with my Chub or Cheven that I have caught?\n\nPiscator. Marry, Sir, it shall be given away to some poor body; for I'll\nwarrant you I'll give you a Trout for your supper: and it is a good\nbeginning of your art to offer your first-fruits to the poor, who will\nboth thank you and God for it, which I see by your silence you seem to\nconsent to. And for your willingness to part with it so charitably, I\nwill also teach more concerning Chub-fishing. You are to note, that in\nMarch and April he is usually taken with worms; in May, June, and July,\nhe will bite at any fly, or at cherries, or at beetles with their legs\nand wings cut off, or at any kind of snail, or at the black bee that\nbreeds in clay walls. And he never refuses a grasshopper, on the top of\na swift stream, nor, at the bottom, the young humble bee that breeds in\nlong grass, and is ordinarily found by the mower of it. In August, and\nin the cooler months, a yellow paste, made of the strongest cheese, and\npounded in a mortar, with a little butter and saffron, so much of it as,\nbeing beaten small, will turn it to a lemon colour. And some make a\npaste for the winter months, at which time the Chub is accounted best,\nfor then it is observed, that the forked bones are lost, or turned into\na kind of gristle, especially if he be baked, of cheese and turpentine.\nHe will bite also at a minnow, or peek, as a Trout will: of which I\nshall tell you more hereafter, and of divers other baits. But take this\nfor a rule, that, in hot weather, he is to be fished for towards the\nmid-water, or near the top; and in colder weather, nearer the bottom;\nand if you fish for him on the top, with a beetle, or any fly, then be\nsure to let your line be very long, and to keep out of sight. And having\ntold you, that his spawn is excellent meat, and that the head of a large\nCheven, the throat being well washed, is the best part of him, I will\nsay no more of this fish at the present, but wish you may catch the next\nyou fish for.\n\nBut, lest you may judge me too nice in urging to have the Chub dressed\nso presently after he is taken, I will commend to your consideration how\ncurious former times have been in the like kind.\n\nYou shall read in Seneca, his Natural Questions, that the ancients were\nso curious in the newness of their fish, that that seemed not new enough\nthat was not put alive into the guest's hand; and he says, that to that\nend they did usually keep them living in glass bottles in their\ndining-rooms, and they did glory much in their entertaining of friends,\nto have that fish taken from under their table alive that was instantly\nto be fed upon; and he says, they took great pleasure to see their\nMullets change to several colours when they were dying. But enough of\nthis; for I doubt I have staid too long from giving you some\nObservations of the Trout, and how to fish for him, which shall take up\nthe next of my spare time.\n\n\n\nThe third day-continued\n\n\nOn the Nature and Breeding of the Trout, and how to fish for him\n\n\n\n\n\nChapter IV\n\n\n\nPiscator, Venator, Milk-woman, Maudlin, Hostess\n\n\nPiscator. The Trout is a fish highly valued, both in this and foreign\nnations. He may be justly said, as the old poet said of wine, and we\nEnglish say of venison, to be a generous fish: a fish that is so like\nthe buck, that he also has his seasons; for it is observed, that he\ncomes in and goes out of season with the stag and buck. Gesner says, his\nname is of a German offspring; and says he is a fish that feeds clean\nand purely, in the swiftest streams, and on the hardest gravel; and that\nhe may justly contend with all fresh water fish, as the Mullet may with\nall sea fish, for precedency and daintiness of taste; and that being in\nright season, the most dainty palates have allowed precedency to him.\n\nAnd before I go farther in my discourse, let me tell you, that you are\nto observe, that as there be some barren does that are good in summer,\nso there be some barren Trouts that are good in winter; but there are\nnot many that are so; for usually they be in their perfection in the\nmonth of May, and decline with the buck. Now you are to take notice,\nthat in several countries, as in Germany, and in other parts, compared\nto ours, fish do differ much in their bigness, and shape, and other\nways; and so do Trouts. It is well known that in the Lake Leman, the\nLake of Geneva, there are Trouts taken of three cubits long; as is\naffirmed by Gesner, a writer of good credit: and Mercator says, the\nTrouts that are taken in the Lake of Geneva are a great part of the\nmerchandize of that famous city. And you are further to know, that there\nbe certain waters that breed Trouts remarkable, both for their number\nand smallness. I know a little brook in Kent, that breeds them to a\nnumber incredible, and you may take them twenty or forty in an hour, but\nnone greater than about the size of a Gudgeon. There are also, in divers\nrivers, especially that relate to, or be near to the sea, as Winchester,\nor the Thames about Windsor, a little Trout called a Samlet, or Skegger\nTrout, in both which places I have caught twenty or forty at a standing,\nthat will bite as fast and as freely as Minnows: these be by some taken\nto be young Salmons; but in those waters they never grow to be bigger\nthan a Herring.\n\nThere is also in Kent, near to Canterbury, a Trout called there a\nFordidge Trout, a Trout that bears the name of the town where it is\nusually caught, that is accounted the rarest of fish; many of them near\nthe bigness of a Salmon, but known by their different colour; and in\ntheir best season they cut very white: and none of these have been known\nto be caught with an angle, unless it were one that was caught by Sir\nGeorge Hastings, an excellent angler, and now with God: and he hath told\nme, he thought that Trout bit not for hunger but wantonness; and it is\nthe rather to be believed, because both he, then, and many others before\nhim, have been curious to search into their bellies, what the food was\nby which they lived; and have found out nothing by which they might\nsatisfy their curiosity.\n\nConcerning which you are to take notice, that it is reported by good\nauthors, that grasshoppers and some fish have no mouths, but are\nnourished and take breath by the porousness of their gills, man knows\nnot how: and this may be believed, if we consider that when the raven\nhath hatched her eggs, she takes no further care, but leaves her young\nones to the care of the God of nature, who is said, in the Psalms, \"to\nfeed the young ravens that call upon him \". And they be kept alive and\nfed by a dew; or worms that breed in their nests; or some other ways\nthat we mortals know not. And this may be believed of the Fordidge\nTrout, which, as it is said of the stork, that he knows his season, so\nhe knows his times, I think almost his day of coming into that river out\nof the sea; where he lives, and, it is like, feeds, nine months of the\nyear, and fasts three in the river of Fordidge. And you are to note,\nthat those townsmen are very punctual in observing the time of beginning\nto fish for them; and boast much, that their river affords a Trout that\nexceeds all others. And just so does Sussex boast of several fish; as,\nnamely, a Shelsey Cockle, a Chichester Lobster, an Arundel Mullet, and\nan Amerly Trout.\n\nAnd, now, for some confirmation of the Fordidge Trout: you are to know\nthat this Trout is thought to eat nothing in the fresh water; and it may\nbe the better believed, because it is well known, that swallows, and\nbats, and wagtails, which are called half-year birds, and not seen to\nfly in England for six months in the year, but about Michaelmas leave us\nfor a hotter climate, yet some of them that have been left behind their\nfellows, have been found, many thousands at a time, in hollow trees, or\nclay caves, where they have been observed to live, and sleep out the\nwhole winter, without meat. And so Albertus observes, that there is one\nkind of frog that hath her mouth naturally shut up about the end of\nAugust, and that she lives so all the winter: and though it be strange\nto some, yet it is known to too many among us to be doubted.\n\nAnd so much for these Fordidge Trouts, which never afford an angler\nsport, but either live their time of being in the fresh water, by their\nmeat formerly gotten in the sea, not unlike the swallow or frog, or, by\nthe virtue of the fresh water only; or, as the birds of Paradise and the\ncameleon are said to live, by the sun and the air.\n\nThere is also in Northumberland a Trout called a Bull-trout, of a much\ngreater length and bigness than any in these southern parts; and there\nare, in many rivers that relate to the sea, Salmon-trouts, as much\ndifferent from others, both in shape and in their spots, as we see sheep\nin some countries differ one from another in their shape and bigness,\nand in the fineness of the wool: and, certainly, as some pastures breed\nlarger sheep; so do some rivers, by reason of the ground over which they\nrun, breed larger Trouts.\n\nNow the next thing that I will commend to your consideration is, that\nthe Trout is of a more sudden growth than other fish. Concerning which,\nyou are also to take notice, that he lives not so long as the Pearch,\nand divers other fishes do, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his\nHistory of Life and Death.\n\nAnd next you are to take notice, that he is not like the Crocodile,\nwhich if he lives never so long, yet always thrives till his death: but\n'tis not so with the Trout; for after he is come to his full growth, he\ndeclines in his body, and keeps his bigness, or thrives only in his head\ntill his death. And you are to know, that he will, about, especially\nbefore, the time of his spawning, get, almost miraculously, through\nweirs and flood-gates, against the stream; even through such high and\nswift places as is almost incredible. Next, that the Trout usually\nspawns about October or November, but in some rivers a little sooner or\nlater; which is the more observable, because most other fish spawn in\nthe spring or summer, when the sun hath warmed both the earth and water,\nand made it fit for generation. And you are to note, that he continues\nmany months out of season; for it may be observed of the Trout, that he\nis like the Buck or the Ox, that will not be fat in many months, though\nhe go in the very same pastures that horses do, which will be fat in one\nmonth: and so you may observe, That most other fishes recover strength,\nand grow sooner fat and in season than the Trout doth.\n\nAnd next you are to note, That till the sun gets to such a height as to\nwarm the earth and the water, the Trout is sick, and lean, and lousy,\nand unwholesome; for you shall, in winter, find him to have a big head,\nand, then, to be lank and thin and lean; at which time many of them have\nsticking on them Sugs, or Trout-lice; which is a kind of a worm, in\nshape like a clove, or pin with a big head, and sticks close to him, and\nsucks his moisture, those, I think, the Trout breeds himself: and never\nthrives till he free himself from them, which is when warm weather\ncomes; and, then, as he grows stronger, he gets from the dead still\nwater into the sharp streams and the gravel, and, there, rubs off these\nworms or lice; and then, as he grows stronger, so he gets him into\nswifter and swifter streams, and there lies at the watch for any fly or\nminnow that comes near to him; and he especially loves the May-fly,\nwhich is bred of the cod-worm, or cadis; and these make the Trout bold\nand lusty, and he is usually fatter and better meat at the end of that\nmonth than at any time of the year.\n\nNow you are to know that it is observed, that usually the best Trouts\nare either red or yellow; though some, as the Fordidge Trout, be white\nand yet good; but that is not usual: and it is a note observable, that\nthe female Trout hath usually a less head, and a deeper body than the\nmale Trout, and is usually the better meat. And note, that a hog back\nand a little head, to either Trout, Salmon or any other fish, is a sign\nthat that fish is in season.\n\nBut yet you are to note, that as you see some willows or palm-trees bud\nand blossom sooner than others do, so some Trouts be, in rivers, sooner\nin season: and as some hollies, or oaks, are longer before they cast\ntheir leaves, so are some Trouts, in rivers, longer before they go out\nof season.\n\nAnd you are to note, that there are several kinds of Trouts: but these\nseveral kinds are not considered but by very few men; for they go under\nthe general name of Trouts; just as pigeons do, in most places; though\nit is certain, there are tame and wild pigeons; and of the tame, there\nbe hermits and runts, and carriers and cropers, and indeed too many to\nname. Nay, the Royal Society have found and published lately, that there\nbe thirty and three kinds of spiders; and yet all, for aught I know, go\nunder that one general name of spider. And it is so with many kinds of\nfish, and of Trouts especially; which differ in their bigness, and\nshape, and spots, and colour. The great Kentish hens may be an instance,\ncompared to other hens: and, doubtless, there is a kind of small Trout,\nwhich will never thrive to be big; that breeds very many more than\nothers do, that be of a larger size: which you may rasher believe, if\nyou consider that the little wren and titmouse will have twenty young\nones at a time, when, usually, the noble hawk, or the musical thrassel\nor blackbird, exceed not four or five.\n\nAnd now you shall see me try my skill to catch a Trout; and at my next\nwalking, either this evening or to-morrow morning, I will give you\ndirection how you yourself shall fish for him.\n\nVenator. Trust me, master, I see now it is a harder matter to catch a\nTrout than a Chub; for I have put on patience, and followed you these\ntwo hours, and not seen a fish stir, neither at your minnow nor your\nworm.\n\nPiscator. Well, scholar, you must endure worse luck sometime, or you\nwill never make a good angler. But what say you now? there is a Trout\nnow, and a good one too, if I can but hold him; and two or three turns\nmore will tire him. Now you see he lies still, and the sleight is to\nland him: reach me that landing-net. So, Sir, now he is mine own: what\nsay you now, is not this worth all my labour and your patience?\n\nVenator. On my word, master, this is a gallant Trout; what shall we do\nwith him?\n\nPiscator. Marry, e'en eat him to supper: we'll go to my hostess from\nwhence we came; she told me, as I was going out of door, that my brother\nPeter, a good angler and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would\nlodge there to-night, and bring a friend with him. My hostess has two\nbeds, and I know you and I may have the best: we'll rejoice with my\nbrother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or sing ballads, or make a\ncatch, or find some harmless sport to content us, and pass away a little\ntime without offence to God or man.\n\nVenator. A match, good master, let's go to that house, for the linen\nlooks white, and smells of lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of\nsheets that smell so. Let's be going, good master, for I am hungry again\nwith fishing.\n\nPiscator. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught my last Trout with\na worm; now I will put on a minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about\nyonder trees for another; and, so, walk towards our lodging. Look you,\nscholar, thereabout we shall have a bite presently, or not at all. Have\nwith you, Sir: o' my word I have hold of him. Oh! it is a great\nlogger-headed Chub; come, hang him upon that willow twig, and let's be\ngoing. But turn out of the way a little, good scholar! toward yonder\nhigh honeysuckle hedge; there we'll sit and sing whilst this shower\nfalls so gently upon the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell to\nthe lovely flowers that adorn these verdant meadows.\n\nLook! under that broad beech-tree I sat down, when I was last this way\na-fishing; and the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a\nfriendly contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a\nhollow tree near to the brow of that primrose-hill. There I sat viewing\nthe silver streams glide silently towards their centre, the tempestuous\nsea; yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones, which\nbroke their waves, and turned them into foam; and sometimes I beguiled\ntime by viewing the harmless lambs; some leaping securely in the cool\nshade, whilst others sported themselves in the cheerful sun; and saw\nothers craving comfort from the swollen udders of their bleating dams.\nAs I thus sat, these and other sights had so fully possess my soul with\ncontent, that I thought, as the poet has happily express it,\n\n    I was for that time lifted above earth,\n    And possest joys not promis'd in my birth.\n\nAs I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure\nentertained me; 'twas a handsome milk-maid, that had not yet attained so\nmuch age and wisdom as to load her mind with any fears of many things\nthat will never be, as too many men too often do; but she cast away all\ncare, and sung like a nightingale. Her voice was good, and the ditty\nfitted for it; it was that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlow, now\nat least fifty years ago; and the milk-maid's mother sung an answer to\nit, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his younger days. They were\nold-fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I think much better than the\nstrong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age. Look yonder!\non my word, yonder, they both be a-milking again. I will give her the\nChub, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us.\n\nGod speed you, good woman! I have been a-fishing; and am going to Bleak\nHall to my bed; and having caught more fish than will sup myself and my\nfriend, I will bestow this upon you and your daughter, for I use to sell\nnone.\n\nMilk-woman. Marry! God requite you, Sir, and we'll eat it cheerfully.\nAnd if you come this way a-fishing two months hence, a grace of God!\nI'll give you a syllabub of new verjuice, in a new-made hay-cock, for\nit. And my Maudlin shall sing you one of her best ballads; for she and I\nboth love all anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men. In the\nmeantime will you drink a draught of red cow's milk? you shall have it\nfreely.\n\nPiscator. No, I thank you; but, I pray, do us a courtesy that shall\nstand you and your daughter in nothing, and yet we will think ourselves\nstill something in your debt: it is but to sing us a song that was sung\nby your daughter when I last passed over this meadow, about eight or\nnine days since.\n\nMilk-woman. What song was it, I pray? Was it, \"Come, Shepherds, deck\nyour herds \"? or, \"As at noon Dulcina rested\"? or, \"Phillida flouts\nme\"? or, \"Chevy Chace\"? or, \"Johnny Armstrong\"? or, \"Troy Town\"?\n\nPiscator. No, it is none of those; it is a Song that your daughter sung\nthe first part, and you sung the answer to it.\n\nMilk-woman. O, I know it now. I learned the first part in my golden age,\nwhen I was about the age of my poor daughter; and the latter part, which\nindeed fits me best now, but two or three years ago, when the cares of\nthe world began to take hold of me: but you shall, God willing, hear\nthem both; and sung as well as we can, for we both love anglers. Come,\nMaudlin, sing the first part to the gentlemen, with a merry heart; and\nI'll sing the second when you have done.\n\n        The Milk-maid's song.\n\n    Come live with me, and be my love,\n    And we will all the pleasures prove,\n    That valleys, groves, or hills, or fields,\n    Or woods, and steepy mountains yields;\n\n    Where we will sit upon the rocks,\n    And see the shepherds feed our flocks,\n    By shallow rivers, to whose falls\n    Melodious birds sing madrigals.\n\n    And I will make thee beds of roses;\n    And, then, a thousand fragrant posies;\n    A cap of flowers, and a kirtle,\n    Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;\n\n    A gown made of the finest wool\n    Which from our pretty lambs we pull\n    Slippers, lin'd choicely for the cold,\n    With buckles of the purest gold;\n\n    A belt of straw and ivy-buds,\n    With coral clasps, and amber studs.\n    And if these pleasures may thee move,\n    Come, live with me, and be my love,\n\n    Thy silver dishes, for thy meat\n    As precious as the Gods do eat\n    Shall, on an ivory table, be\n    Prepared each day for thee and me.\n\n    The shepherd swains shall dance and sing\n    For thy delight, each May morning.\n    If these delights thy mind may move,\n    Then live with me, and be my love.\n\nVenator. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and sweetly sung by\nhonest Maudlin. I now see it was not without cause that our good queen\nElizabeth did so often wish herself a milk-maid all the month of May,\nbecause they are not troubled with fears and cares, but sing sweetly all\nthe day, and sleep securely all the night: and without doubt, honest,\ninnocent, pretty Maudlin does so. I'll bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's\nmilk-maid's wish upon her, \"that she may die in the Spring; and, being\ndead, may have good store of flowers stuck round about her\nwinding-sheet\".\n\n        The Milk-maid's mother's answer\n\n    If all the world and love were young\n    And truth in every shepherd's tongue,\n    These pretty pleasures might me move\n    To live with thee, and be thy love.\n\n    But Time drives flocks from field to fold.\n    When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold\n    Then Philomel becometh dumb\n    And age complains of cares to come.\n\n    The flowers do fade, and wanton fields\n    To wayward winter reckoning yields.\n    A honey tongue, a heart of gall,\n    Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall.\n\n    Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,\n    Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,\n    Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten;\n    In folly rise, in reason rotten.\n\n    Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds,\n    Thy coral clasps, and amber studs,\n    All these in me no means can move\n    To come to thee, and be thy love.\n\n    What should we talk of dainties, then,\n    Of better meat than's fit for men?\n    These are but vain: that's only good\n    Which God hath blessed and sent for food.\n\n    But could youth last, and love still breed;\n    Had joys no date, nor age no need;\n    Then those delights my mind might move\n    To live with thee, and be thy love.\n\nMother. Well! I have done my song. But stay, honest anglers; for I will\nmake Maudlin sing you one short song more. Maudlin! sing that song that\nyou sung last night, when young Coridon the shepherd played so purely on\nhis oaten pipe to you and your cousin Betty.\n\nMaudlin. I will, mother.\n\n    I married a wife of late,\n    The more's my unhappy fate:\n      I married her for love,\n      As my fancy did me move,\n    And not for a worldly estate:\n\n    But oh! the green sickness\n    Soon changed her likeness;\n      And all her beauty did fail.\n        But 'tis not so\n        With those that go\n        Thro'frost and snow\n        As all men know,\n    And carry the milking-pail.\n\nPiscator. Well sung, good woman; I thank you. I'll give you another dish\nof fish one of these days; and then beg another song of you. Come,\nscholar! let Maudlin alone: do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look!\nyonder comes mine hostess, to call us to supper. How now! is my brother\nPeter come?\n\nHostess. Yes, and a friend with him. They are both glad to hear that you\nare in these parts; and long to see you; and long to be at supper, for\nthey be very hungry.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe third day-continued\n\nOn the Trout\n\nChapter V\n\nPiscator, Peter, Venator, Coridon\n\n\nPiscator. Well met, brother Peter! I heard you and a friend would lodge\nhere to-night; and that hath made me to bring my friend to lodge here\ntoo. My friend is one that would fain be a brother of the angle: he hath\nbeen an angler but this day; and I have taught him how to catch a Chub,\nby dapping with a grasshopper; and the Chub he caught was a lusty one of\nnineteen inches long. But pray, brother Peter, who is your companion?\n\nPeter. Brother Piscator, my friend is an honest countryman, and his name\nis Coridon; and he is a downright witty companion, that met me here\npurposely to be pleasant and eat a Trout; and I have not yet wetted my\nline since we met together: but I hope to fit him with a Trout for his\nbreakfast; for I'll be early up.\n\nPiscator. Nay, brother, you shall not stay so long; for, look you! here\nis a Trout will fill six reasonable bellies.\n\nCome, hostess, dress it presently; and get us what other meat the house\nwill afford; and give us some of your best barley-wine, the good liquor\nthat our honest forefathers did use to think of; the drink which\npreserved their health, and made them live so long, and to do so many\ngood deeds.\n\nPeter. On my word, this Trout is perfect in season. Come, I thank you,\nand here is a hearty draught to you, and to all the brothers of the\nangle wheresoever they be, and to my young brother's good fortune\nto-morrow. I will furnish him with a rod, if you will furnish him with\nthe rest of the tackling: we will set him up, and make him a fisher. And\nI will tell him one thing for his encouragement, that his fortune hath\nmade him happy to be scholar to such a master; a master that knows as\nmuch, both of the nature and breeding of fish, as any man; and can also\ntell him as well how to catch and cook them, from the Minnow to the\nSalmon, as any that I ever met withal.\n\nPiscator. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar to be so suitable\nto my own humour, which is to be free and pleasant and civilly merry,\nthat my resolution is to hide nothing that I know from him. Believe me,\nscholar, this is my resolution; and so here's to you a hearty draught,\nand to all that love us and the honest art of Angling.\n\nVenator. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow your seed in barren\nground; for I hope to return you an increase answerable to your hopes:\nbut, however, you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable\nto my best ability.\n\nPiscator. 'Tis enough, honest scholar! come, let's to supper. Come, my\nfriend Coridon, this Trout looks lovely; it was twenty-two inches when\nit was taken; and the belly of it looked, some part of it, as yellow as\na marigold, and part of it as white as a lily; and yet, methinks, it\nlooks better in this good sauce.\n\nCoridon. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well, and tastes well: I thank\nyou for it, and so doth my friend Peter, or else he is to blame.\n\nPeter. Yes, and so I do; we all thank you: and, when we have supped, I\nwill get my friend Coridon to sing you a song for requital.\n\nCoridon. I will sing a song, if anybody will sing another, else, to be\nplain with you, I will sing none. I am none of those that sing for meat,\nbut for company: I say,\n\n'\"Tis merry in hall, When men sing all.\"\n\nPiscator. I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately made, at my\nrequest, by Mr. William Basse; one that hath made the choice songs of\nthe \"Hunter in his Career,\" and of \"Tom of Bedlam,\" and many others of\nnote; and this, that I will sing, is in praise of Angling.\n\nCoridon. And then mine shall be the praise of a Countryman's life. What\nwill the rest sing of?\n\nPeter. I will promise you, I will sing another song in praise of Angling\nto-morrow night; for we will not part till then; but fish to-morrow, and\nsup together: and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his\nbusiness.\n\nVenator. Tis a match; and I will provide you a song or a catch against\nthen, too, which shall give some addition of mirth to the company; for\nwe will be civil and as merry as beggars.\n\nPiscator. Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say grace, and turn to the\nfire, drink the other cup to whet our whistles, and so sing away all sad\nthoughts. Come on, my masters, who begins? I think it is best to draw\ncuts, and avoid contention.\n\nPeter. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to Coridon.\n\nCoridon. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate contention\n\n       Coridon's song.\n\n    Oh the sweet contentment\n    The countryman doth find!\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe,\n        Heigh trolollie lee.\n    That quiet contemplation\n    Possesseth all my mind:\n        Then care away\n        And wend along with me.\n\n    For Courts are full of flattery,\n    As hath too oft been tried\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.,\n    The city full of wantonness,\n    And both are full of pride:\n        Then care away, etc.\n\n    But oh, the honest countryman\n    Speaks truly from his heart\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.\n    His pride is in his tillage,\n    His horses, and his cart:\n        Then care away, etc.\n\n    Our cloathing is good sheep-skins\n    Grey russet for our wives\n    Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.\n    'Tis warmth and not gay cloathing\n    That doth prolong our lives:\n    Then care away, etc.\n\n    The ploughman, tho' he labour hard,\n    Yet on the holy-day\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.\n    No emperor so merrily\n    Does pass his time away:\n        Then care away, etc.\n\n    To recompense our tillage,\n    The heavens afford us showers\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.\n    And for our sweet refreshment.\n    The earth affords us bowers:\n        Then care away, etc.\n\n    The cuckow and the nightingale\n    Full merrily do sing,\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.\n    And with their pleasant roundelays\n    Bid welcome to the spring:\n        Then care away, etc.\n\n    This is not half the happiness\n    The countryman enjoys\n        Heigh trolollie lollie foe, etc.,\n    Though others think they have as much,\n    Yet he that says so lies:\n        Then come away,\n        Turn countrymen with me.\n\n        Jo. Chalkhill.\n\nPiscator. Well sung, Coridon, this song was sung with mettle; and it was\nchoicely fitted to the occasion: I shall love you for it as long as I\nknow you. I would you were a brother of the angle; for a companion that\nis cheerful, and free from swearing and scurrilous discourse, is worth\ngold. I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon\none another next morning; nor men, that cannot well bear it, to repent\nthe money they spend when they be warmed with drink. And take this for a\nrule: you may pick out such times and such companies, that you make\nyourselves merrier for a little than a great deal of money; for \"'Tis\nthe company and not the charge that makes the feast\"; and such a\ncompanion you prove: I thank you for it.\n\nBut I will not compliment you out of the debt that I owe you, and\ntherefore I will begin my song, and wish it may be so well liked.\n\n       The Angler's song.\n\n    As inward love breeds outward talk\n    The hound some praise, and some the hawk\n    Some, better pleas'd with private sport\n    Use tennis, some a mistress court:\n      But these delights I neither wish\n      Nor envy, while I freely fish.\n\n    Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride;\n    Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide\n    Who uses games shall often prove\n    A loser, but who falls in love,\n      Is fetter'd in fond Cupid's snare:\n      My angle breeds me no such care.\n\n    Of recreation there is none\n    So free as fishing is alone;\n    All other pastimes do no less\n    Than mind and body both possess:\n      My hand alone my work can do,\n      So I can fish and study too.\n\n    I care not, I, to fish in seas,\n    Fresh rivers best my mind do please,\n    Whose sweet calm course I contemplate,\n    And seek in life to imitate:\n      In civil bounds I fain would keep,\n      And for my past offences weep.\n\n    And when the timorous Trout I wait\n    To take, and he devours my bait,\n    How poor a thing, sometimes I find,\n    Will captivate a greedy mind:\n      And when none bite, I praise the wise\n      Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise.\n\n    But yet, though while I fish, I fast,\n    I make good fortune my repast;\n    And thereunto my friend invite,\n    In whom I more than that delight:\n      Who is more welcome to my dish\n      Than to my angle was my fish.\n\n    As well content no prize to take,\n    As use of taken prize to make:\n    For so our Lord was pleased, when\n    He fishers made fishers of men;\n      Where, which is in no other game,\n      A man may fish and praise his name.\n\n    The first men that our Saviour dear\n    Did choose to wait upon him here,\n    Blest fishers were, and fish the last\n    Food was that he on earth did taste:\n      I therefore strive to follow those\n      Whom he to follow him hath chose.\n\n    W. B.\n\nCoridon. Well sung, brother, you have paid your debt in good coin. We\nanglers are all beholden to the good man that made this song: come,\nhostess, give us more ale, and let's drink to him. And now let's every\none go to bed, that we may rise early: but first let's pay our\nreckoning, for I will have nothing to hinder me in the morning; for my\npurpose is to prevent the sun-rising.\n\nPeter. A match. Come, Coridon, you are to be my bed-fellow. I know,\nbrother, you and your scholar will lie together. But where shall we meet\nto-morrow night? for my friend Coridon and I will go up the water\ntowards Ware.\n\nPiscator. And my scholar and I will go down towards Waltham.\n\nCoridon. Then let's meet here, for here are fresh sheets that smell of\nlavender; and I am sure we cannot expect better meat, or better usage in\nany place.\n\nPeter. 'Tis a match. Good-night to everybody.\n\nPiscator. And so say I.\n\nVenator. And so say I.\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day\n\n\nPiscator. Good-morrow, good hostess, I see my brother Peter is still in\nbed. Come, give my scholar and me a morning drink, and a bit of meat to\nbreakfast: and be sure to get a dish of meat or two against supper, for\nwe shall come home as hungry as hawks. Come, scholar, let's be going.\n\nVenator. Well now, good master, as we walk towards the river, give me\ndirection, according to your promise, how I shall fish for a Trout.\n\nPiscator. My honest scholar, I will take this very convenient\nopportunity to do it.\n\nThe Trout is usually caught with a worm, or a minnow, which some call a\npeek, or with a fly, viz. either a natural or an artificial fly:\nconcerning which three, I will give you some observations and\ndirections.\n\nAnd, first, for worms. Of these there be very many sorts: some breed\nonly in the earth, as the earth-worm; others of, or amongst plants, as\nthe dug-worm; and others breed either out of excrements, or in the\nbodies of living creatures, as in the horns of sheep or deer; or some of\ndead flesh, as the maggot or gentle, and others.\n\nNow these be most of them particularly good for particular fishes. But\nfor the Trout, the dew-worm, which some also call the lob-worm, and the\nbrandling, are the chief; and especially the first for a great Trout,\nand the latter for a less. There be also of lob-worms, some called\nsquirrel-tails, a worm that has a red head, a streak down the back, and\na broad tail, which are noted to be the best, because they are the\ntoughest and most lively, and live longest in the water; for you are to\nknow that a dead worm is but a dead bait, and like to catch nothing,\ncompared to a lively, quick, stirring worm. And for a brandling, he is\nusually found in an old dunghill, or some very rotten place near to it,\nbut most usually in cow-dung, or hog's-dung, rather than horse-dung,\nwhich is somewhat too hot and dry for that worm. But the best of them\nare to be found in the bark of the tanners, which they cast up in heaps\nafter they have used it about their leather.\n\nThere are also divers other kinds of worms, which, for colour and shape,\nalter even as the ground out of which they are got; as the marsh-worm,\nthe tag-tail, the flag-worm, the dock-worm, the oak-worm, the gilt-tail,\nthe twachel or lob-worm, which of all others is the most excellent bait\nfor a salmon, and too many to name, even as many sorts as some think\nthere be of several herbs or shrubs, or of several kinds of birds in the\nair: of which I shall say no more, but tell you, that what worms soever\nyou fish with, are the better for being well scoured, that is, long kept\nbefore they be used: and in case you have not been so provident, then\nthe way to cleanse and scour them quickly, is, to put them all night in\nwater, if they be lob-worms, and then put them into your bag with\nfennel. But you must not put your brandlings above an hour in water, and\nthen put them into fennel, for sudden use: but if you have time, and\npurpose to keep them long, then they be best preserved in an earthen\npot, with good store of moss, which is to be fresh every three or four\ndays in summer, and every week or eight days in winter; or, at least,\nthe moss taken from them, and clean washed, and wrung betwixt your hands\ntill it be dry, and then put it to them again. And when your worms,\nespecially the brandling, begins to be sick and lose of his bigness,\nthen you may recover him, by putting a little milk or cream, about a\nspoonful in a day, into them, by drops on the moss; and if there be\nadded to the cream an egg beaten and boiled in it, then it will both\nfatten and preserve them long. And note, that when the knot, which is\nnear to the middle of the brandling, begins to swell, then he is sick;\nand, if he be not well looked to, is near dying. And for moss, you are\nto note, that there be divers kinds of it, which I could name to you,\nbut I will only tell you that that which is likest a buck's-horn is the\nbest, except it be soft white moss, which grows on some heaths, and is\nhard to be found. And note, that in a very dry time, when you are put to\nan extremity for worms, walnut-tree leaves squeezed into water, or salt\nin water, to make it bitter or salt, and then that water poured on the\nground where you shall see worms are used to rise in the night, will\nmake them to appear above ground presently. And you may take notice,\nsome say that camphire put into your bag with your moss and worms gives\nthem a strong and so tempting a smell, that the fish fare the worse and\nyou the better for it.\n\nAnd now, I shall shew you how to bait your hook with a worm so as shall\nprevent you from much trouble, and the loss of many a hook, too, when\nyou fish for a Trout with a running line; that is to say, when you fish\nfor him by hand at the ground. I will direct you in this as plainly as I\ncan, that you may not mistake.\n\nSuppose it be a big lob-worm: put your hook into him somewhat above the\nmiddle, and out again a little below the middle: having so done, draw\nyour worm above the arming of your hook; but note, that, at the entering\nof your hook, it must not be at the head-end of the worm, but at the\ntail-end of him, that the point of your hook may come out toward the\nhead-end; and, having drawn him above the arming of your hook, then put\nthe point of your hook again into the very head of the worm, till it\ncome near to the place where the point of the hook first came out, and\nthen draw back that part of the worm that was above the shank or arming\nof your hook, and so fish with it. And if you mean to fish with two\nworms, then put the second on before you turn back the hook's-head of\nthe first worm. You cannot lose above two or three worms before you\nattain to what I direct you; and having attained it, you will find it\nvery useful, and thank me for it: for you will run on the ground without\ntangling.\n\nNow for the Minnow or Penk: he is not easily found and caught till\nMarch, or in April, for then he appears first in the river; nature\nhaving taught him to shelter and hide himself, in the winter, in ditches\nthat be near to the river; and there both to hide, and keep himself\nwarm, in the mud, or in the weeds, which rot not so soon as in a running\nriver, in which place if he were in winter, the distempered floods that\nare usually in that season would suffer him to take no rest, but carry\nhim headlong to mills and weirs, to his confusion. And of these Minnows:\nfirst, you are to know, that the biggest size is not the best; and next,\nthat the middle size and the whitest are the best; and then you are to\nknow, that your minnow must be so put on your hook, that it must turn\nround when 'tis drawn against the stream; and, that it may turn nimbly,\nyou must put it on a big-sized hook, as I shall now direct you, which is\nthus: Put your hook in at his mouth, and out at his gill; then, having\ndrawn your hook two or three inches beyond or through his gill, put it\nagain into his mouth, and the point and beard out at his tail; and then\ntie the hook and his tail about, very neatly, with a white thread, which\nwill make it the apter to turn quick in the water; that done, pull back\nthat part of your line which was slack when you did put your hook into\nthe minnow the second time; I say, pull that part of your line back, so\nthat it shall fasten the head, so that the body of the minnow shall be\nalmost straight on your hook: this done, try how it will turn, by\ndrawing it across the water or against a stream; and if it do not turn\nnimbly, then turn the tail a little to the right or left hand, and try\nagain, till it turn quick; for if not, you are in danger to catch\nnothing: for know, that it is impossible that it should turn too quick.\nAnd you are yet to know, that in case you want a minnow, then a small\nloach, or a stickle-bag, or any other small fish that will turn quick,\nwill serve as well. And you are yet to know that you may salt them, and\nby that means keep them ready and fit for use three or four days, or\nlonger; and that, of salt, bay-salt is the best.\n\nAnd here let me tell you, what many old anglers know right well, that at\nsome times, and in some waters, a minnow is not to be got; and\ntherefore, let me tell you, I have, which I will shew to you, an\nartificial minnow, that will catch a Trout as well as an artificial fly:\nand it was made by a handsome woman that had a fine hand, and a live\nminnow lying by her: the mould or body of the minnow was cloth, and\nwrought upon, or over it, thus, with a needle; the back of it with very\nsad French green silk, and paler green silk towards the belly, shadowed\nas perfectly as you can imagine, just as you see a minnow: the belly was\nwrought also with a needle, and it was, a part of it, white silk; and\nanother part of it with silver thread: the tail and fins were of a\nquill, which was shaven thin: the eyes were of two little black beads:\nand the head was so shadowed, and all of it so curiously wrought, and so\nexactly dissembled, that it would beguile any sharp-sighted Trout in a\nswift stream. And this minnow I will now shew you; look, here it is,\nand, if you like it, lend it you, to have two or three made by it; for\nthey be easily carried about an angler, and be of excellent use: for\nnote, that a large Trout will come as fiercely at a minnow as the\nhighest-mettled hawk doth seize on a partridge, or a greyhound on a\nhare. I have been told that one hundred and sixty minnows have been\nfound in a Trout's belly: either the Trout had devoured so many, or the\nmiller that gave it a friend of mine had forced them down his throat\nafter he had taken him.\n\nNow for Flies; which is the third bait wherewith Trouts are usually\ntaken. You are to know, that there are so many sorts of flies as there\nbe of fruits: I will name you but some of them; as the dun-fly, the\nstone-fly, the red-fly, the moor-fly, the tawny-fly, the shell-fly, the\ncloudy or blackish-fly, the flag-fly, the vine-fly; there be of flies,\ncaterpillars, and canker-flies, and bear-flies; and indeed too many\neither for me to name, or for you to remember. And their breeding is so\nvarious and wonderful, that I might easily amaze myself, and tire you in\na relation of them.\n\nAnd, yet, I will exercise your promised patience by saying a little of\nthe caterpillar, or the palmer-fly or worm; that by them you may guess\nwhat a work it were, in a discourse, but to run over those very many\nflies, worms, and little living creatures, with which the sun and summer\nadorn and beautify the river-banks and meadows, both for the recreation\nand contemplation of us anglers; pleasures which, I think, myself enjoy\nmore than any other man that is not of my profession.\n\nPliny holds an opinion, that many have their birth, or being, from a dew\nthat in the spring falls upon the leaves of trees; and that some kinds\nof them are from a dew left upon herbs or flowers; and others from a dew\nleft upon coleworts or cabbages: all which kinds of dews being thickened\nand condensed, are by the sun's generative heat, most of them, hatched,\nand in three days made living creatures, and these of several shapes and\ncolours; some being hard and tough, some smooth and soft; some are\nhorned in their head, some in their tail, some have none; some have\nhair, some none: some have sixteen feet, some less, and some have none:\nbut, as our Topsel hath with great diligence observed, those which have\nnone, move upon the earth, or upon broad leaves, their motion being not\nunlike to the waves of the sea. Some of them he also observes to be bred\nof the eggs of other caterpillars, and that those in their time turn to\nbe butterflies; and again, that their eggs turn the following year to be\ncaterpillars. And some affirm, that every plant has its particular fly or\ncaterpillar, which it breeds and feeds. I have seen, and may therefore\naffirm it, a green caterpillar, or worm, as big as a small peascod,\nwhich had fourteen legs; eight on the belly, four under the neck, and\ntwo near the tail. It was found on a hedge of privet; and was taken\nthence, and put into a large box, and a little branch or two of privet\nput to it, on which I saw it feed as sharply as a dog gnaws a bone: it\nlived thus, five or six days, and thrived, and changed the colour two or\nthree times but by some neglect in the keeper of it, it then died and\ndid not turn to a fly: but if it had lived, it had doubtless turned to\none of those flies that some call Flies of prey, which those that walk\nby the rivers may, in summer, see fasten on smaller flies, and, I think,\nmake them their food. And 'tis observable, that as there be these flies\nof prey, which be very large; so there be others, very little, created,\nI think, only to feed them, and breed out of I know not what; whose\nlife, they say, nature intended not to exceed an hour; and yet that life\nis thus made shorter by other flies, or accident.\n\n'Tis endless to tell you what the curious searchers into nature's\nproductions have observed of these worms and flies: but yet I shall tell\nyou what Aldrovandus, our Topsel, and others, say of the Palmer-worm, or\nCaterpillar: that whereas others content themselves to feed on\nparticular herbs or leaves; for most think, those very leaves that gave\nthem life and shape, give them a particular feeding and nourishment, and\nthat upon them they usually abide; yet he observes, that this is called\na pilgrim, or palmer-worm, for his very wandering life, and various\nfood; not contenting himself, as others do, with any one certain place\nfor his abode, nor any certain kind of herb or flower for his feeding,\nbut will boldly and disorderly wander up and down, and not endure to be\nkept to a diet, or fixt to a particular place.\n\nNay, the very colours of caterpillars are, as one has observed, very\nelegant and beautiful I shall, for a taste of the rest, describe one of\nthem; which I will, some time the next month, shew you feeding on a\nwillow-tree; and you shall find him punctually to answer this very\ndescription: his lips and mouth somewhat yellow; his eyes black as jet;\nhis forehead purple; his feet and hinder parts green; his tail\ntwo-forked and black; the whole body stained with a kind of red spots,\nwhich run along the neck and shoulder-blade, not unlike the form of St.\nAndrew's cross, or the letter X, made thus crosswise, and a white line\ndrawn down his back to his tail; all which add much beauty to his whole\nbody. And it is to me observable, that at a fixed age this caterpillar\ngives over to eat, and towards winter comes to be covered over with a\nstrange shell or crust, called an aurelia; and so lives a kind of dead\nlife, without eating all the winter. And as others of several kinds turn\nto be several kinds of flies and vermin, the Spring following; so this\ncaterpillar then turns to be a painted butterfly.\n\nCome, come, my scholar, you see the river stops our morning walk: and I\nwill also here stop my discourse: only as we sit down under this\nhoneysuckle hedge, whilst I look a line to fit the rod that our brother\nPeter hath lent you, I shall, for a little confirmation of what I have\nsaid, repeat the observation of Du Bartas:\n\n    God, not contented to each kind to give\n    And to infuse the virtue generative,\n    Made, by his wisdom, many creatures breed\n    Of lifeless bodies, without Venus' deed.\n\n    So, the cold humour breeds the Salamander,\n    Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander,\n    With child with hundred winters, with her touch\n    Quencheth the fire, tho'glowing ne'er so much.\n\n    So of the fire, in burning furnace, springs\n    The fly Pyrausta with the flaming wings:\n    Without the fire, it dies: within it joys,\n    Living in that which each shine else destroys.\n\n    So, slow Bo\u00f4tes underneath him sees\n    In th' icy isles those goslings hatch'd of trees;\n    Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water,\n    Are turn'd, they say, to living fowls soon after.\n\n    So, rotten sides of broken ships do change\n    To barnacles. O transformation strange!\n    'Twas first a green tree; then, a gallant hull;\n    Lately a mushroom; now, a flying gull.\n\nVenator. O my good master, this morning-walk has been spent to my great\npleasure and wonder: but, I pray, when shall I have your direction how\nto make artificial flies, like to those that the Trout loves best; and,\nalso, how to use them?\n\nPiscator. My honest scholar, it is now past five of the clock: we will\nfish till nine; and then go to breakfast. Go you to yonder\nsycamore-tree, and hide your bottle of drink under the hollow root of\nit; for about that time, and in that place, we will make a brave\nbreakfast with a piece of powdered beef, and a radish or two, that I\nhave in my fish bag: we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest,\nwholesome hungry breakfast. And I will then give you direction for the\nmaking and using of your flies: and in the meantime, there is your rod\nand line; and my advice is, that you fish as you see me do, and let's\ntry which can catch the first fish.\n\nVenator. I thank you, master. I will observe and practice your direction\nas far as I am able.\n\nPiscator. Look you, scholar; you see I have hold of a good fish: I now\nsee it is a Trout. I pray, put that net under him; and touch not my\nline, for if you do, then we break all. Well done, scholar: I thank you.\n\nNow for another. Trust me, I have another bite. Come, scholar, come lay\ndown your rod, and help me to land this as you did the other. So now we\nshall be sure to have a good dish of fish for supper.\n\nVenator. I am glad of that: but I have no fortune: sure, master, yours\nis a better rod and better tackling.\n\nPiscator. Nay, then, take mine; and I will fish with yours. Look you,\nscholar, I have another. Come, do as you did before. And now I have a\nbite at another. Oh me! he has broke all: there's half a line and a good\nhook lost.\n\nVenator. Ay, and a good Trout too.\n\nPiscator. Nay, the Trout is not lost; for pray take notice, no man can\nlose what he never had.\n\nVenator. Master, I can neither catch with the first nor second angle: I\nhave no fortune.\n\nPiscator. Look you, scholar, I have yet another. And now, having caught\nthree brace of Trouts, I will tell you a short tale as we walk towards\nour breakfast. A scholar, a preacher I should say, that was to preach to\nprocure the approbation of a parish that he might be their lecturer, had\ngot from his fellow-pupil the copy of a sermon that was first preached\nwith great commendation by him that composed it: and though the borrower\nof it preached it, word for word, as it was at first, yet it was utterly\ndisliked as it was preached by the second to his congregation, which the\nsermon-borrower complained of to the lender of it: and was thus\nanswered: \"I lent you, indeed, my fiddle, but not my fiddle-stick; for\nyou are to know, that every one cannot make musick with my words, which\nare fitted for my own mouth\". And so, my scholar, you are to know, that\nas the ill pronunciation or ill accenting of words in a sermon spoils\nit, so the ill carriage of your line, or not fishing even to a foot in a\nright place, makes you lose your labour: and you are to know, that\nthough you have my fiddle, that is, my very rod and tacklings with which\nyou see I catch fish, yet you have not my fiddle-stick, that is, you yet\nhave not skill to know how to carry your hand and line, nor how to guide\nit to a right place: and this must be taught you; for you are to\nremember, I told you Angling is an art, either by practice or a long\nobservation, or both. But take this for a rule, When you fish for a\nTrout with a worm, let your line have so much, and not more lead than\nwill fit the stream in which you fish; that is to say, more in a great\ntroublesome stream than in a smaller that is quieter; as near as may be,\nso much as will sink the bait to the bottom, and keep it still in\nmotion, and not more.\n\nBut now, let's say grace, and fall to breakfast. What say you, scholar,\nto the providence of an old angler? Does not this meat taste well? and\nwas not this place well chosen to eat it? for this sycamore-tree will\nshade us from the sun's heat.\n\nVenator. All excellent good; and my stomach excellent good, too. And now\nI remember, and find that true which devout Lessius says, \"that poor\nmen, and those that fast often, have much more pleasure in eating than\nrich men, and gluttons, that always feed before their stomachs are empty\nof their last meat and call for more; for by that means they rob\nthemselves of that pleasure that hunger brings to poor men\". And I do\nseriously approve of that saying of yours, \"that you had rather be a\ncivil, well-governed, well-grounded, temperate, poor angler, than a\ndrunken lord \": but I hope there is none such. However, I am certain of\nthis, that I have been at many very costly dinners that have not\nafforded me half the content that this has done; for which I thank God\nand you.\n\nAnd now, good master, proceed to your promised direction for making and\nordering my artificial fly.\n\nPiscator. My honest scholar, I will do it; for it is a debt due unto you\nby my promise. And because you shall not think yourself more engaged to\nme than indeed you really are, I will freely give you such directions as\nwere lately given to me by an ingenious brother of the angle, an honest\nman, and a most excellent fly-fisher.\n\nYou are to note, that there are twelve kinds of artificial made Flies,\nto angle with upon the top of the water. Note, by the way, that the\nfittest season of using these is in a blustering windy day, when the\nwaters are so troubled that the natural fly cannot be seen, or rest upon\nthem. The first is the dun-fly, in March: the body is made of dun wool;\nthe wings, of the partridge's feathers. The second is another dun-fly:\nthe body, of black wool; and the wings made of the black drake's\nfeathers, and of the feathers under his tail. The third is the\nstone-fly, in April: the body is made of black wool; made yellow under\nthe wings and under the tail, and so made with wings of the drake. The\nfourth is the ruddy-fly, in the beginning of May: the body made of red\nwool, wrapt about with black silk; and the feathers are the wings of the\ndrake; with the feathers of a red capon also, which hang dangling on his\nsides next to the tail. The fifth is the yellow or greenish fly, in May\nlikewise: the body made of yellow wool; and the wings made of the red\ncock's hackle or tail. The sixth is the black-fly, in May also: the body\nmade of black wool, and lapt about with the herle of a peacock's tail:\nthe wings are made of the wings of a brown capon, with his blue feathers\nin his head. The seventh is the sad yellow-fly in June: the body is made\nof black wool, with a yellow list on either side; and the wings taken\noff the wings of a buzzard, bound with black braked hemp. The eighth is\nthe moorish-fly; made, with the body, of duskish wool; and the wings\nmade of the blackish mail of the drake. The ninth is the tawny-fly, good\nuntil the middle of June: the body made of tawny wool; the wings made\ncontrary one against the other, made of the whitish mail of the wild\ndrake. The tenth is the wasp-fly in July; the body made of black wool,\nlapt about with yellow silk; the wings made of the feathers of the\ndrake, or of the buzzard. The eleventh is the shell-fly, good in\nmid-July: the body made of greenish wool, lapt about with the herle of a\npeacock's tail: and the wings made of the wings of the buzzard. The\ntwelfth is the dark drake-fly, good in August: the body made with black\nwool, lapt about with black silk; his wings are made with the mail of\nthe black drake, with a black head. Thus have you a jury of flies,\nlikely to betray and condemn all the Trouts in the river.\n\nI shall next give you some other directions for fly-fishing, such as are\ngiven by Mr. Thomas Barker, a gentleman that hath spent much time in\nfishing: but I shall do it with a little variation.\n\nFirst, let your rod be light, and very gentle: I take the best to be of\ntwo pieces. And let not your line exceed, especially for three or four\nlinks next to the hook, I say, not exceed three or four hairs at the\nmost; though you may fish a little stronger above, in the upper part of\nyour line: but if you can attain to angle with one hair, you shall have\nmore rises, and catch more fish. Now you must be sure not to cumber\nyourself with too long a line, as most do. And before you begin to\nangle, cast to have the wind on your back; and the sun, if it shines, to\nbe before you; and to fish down the stream; and carry the point or top\nof your rod downward, by which means the shadow of yourself and rod too,\nwill be the least offensive to the fish, for the sight of any shade\namazes the fish, and spoils your sport, of which you must take great\ncare.\n\nIn the middle of March, till which time a man should not in honesty\ncatch a Trout; or in April, it the weather be dark, or a little windy or\ncloudy; the best fishing is with the palmer-worm, of which I last spoke\nto you; but of these there be divers kinds, or at least of divers\ncolours: these and the May-fly are the ground of all fly-angling: which\nare to be thus made:\n\nFirst, you must arm your hook with the line, in the inside of it: then\ntake your scissors, and cut so much of a brown mallard's feather as, in\nyour own reason, will make the wings of it, you having, withal, regard\nto the bigness or littleness of your hook; then lay the outmost part of\nyour feather next to your hook; then the point of your feather next the\nshank of your hook, and, having so done, whip it three or four times\nabout the hook with the same silk with which your hook was armed; and\nhaving made the silk fast, take the hackle of a cock or capon's neck, or\na plover's top, which is usually better: take off the one side of the\nfeather, and then take the hackle, silk or crewel, gold or silver\nthread; make these fast at the bent of the hook, that is to say, below\nyour arming; then you must take the hackle, the silver or gold thread,\nand work it up to the wings, shifting or still removing your finger as\nyou turn the silk about the hook, and still looking, at every stop or\nturn, that your gold, or what materials soever you make your fly of, do\nlie right and neatly; and if you find they do so, then when you have\nmade the head, make all fast: and then work your hackle up to the head,\nand make that fast: and then, with a needle, or pin, divide the wing\ninto two; and then, with the arming silk, whip it about cross-ways\nbetwixt the wings: and then with your thumb you must turn the point of\nthe feather towards the bent of the hook; and then work three or four\ntimes about the shank of the hook; and then view the proportion; and if\nall be neat, and to your liking, fasten.\n\nI confess, no direction can be given to make a man of a dull capacity\nable to make a fly well: and yet I know this, with a little practice,\nwill help an ingenious angler in a good degree. But to see a fly made by\nan artist in that kind, is the best teaching to make it. And, then, an\ningenious angler may walk by the river, and mark what flies fall on the\nwater that day; and catch one of them, if he sees the Trouts leap at a\nfly of that kind: and then having always hooks ready-hung with him, and\nhaving a bag always with him, with bear's hair, or the hair of a brown\nor sad-coloured heifer, hackles of a cock or capon, several coloured\nsilk and crewel to make the body of the fly, the feathers of a drake's\nhead, black or brown sheep's wool, or hog's wool, or hair, thread of\ngold and of silver; silk of several colours, especially sad-coloured, to\nmake the fly's head: and there be also other coloured feathers, both of\nlittle birds and of speckled fowl: I say, having those with him in a\nbag, and trying to make a fly, though he miss at first, yet shall he at\nlast hit it better, even to such a perfection as none can well teach him.\nAnd if he hit to make his fly right, and have the luck to hit, also,\nwhere there is store of Trouts, a dark day, and a right wind, he will\ncatch such store of them, as will encourage him to grow more and more in\nlove with the art of fly-making.\n\nVenator. But, my loving master, if any wind will not serve, then I wish\nI were in Lapland, to buy a good wind of one of the honest witches, that\nsell so many winds there, and so cheap.\n\nPiscator. Marry, scholar, but I would not be there, nor indeed from\nunder this tree; for look how it begins to rain, and by the clouds, if I\nmistake not, we shall presently have a smoking shower, and therefore sit\nclose; this sycamore-tree will shelter us: and I will tell you, as they\nshall come into my mind, more observations of fly-fishing for a Trout.\n\nBut first for the wind: you are to take notice that of the winds the\nsouth wind is said to be best. One observes, that\n\n         ...when the wind is south,\n    It blows your bait into a fish's mouth.\n\nNext to that, the west wind is believed to be the best: and having told\nyou that the east wind is the worst, I need not tell you which wind is\nthe best in the third degree: and yet, as Solomon observes, that \"he\nthat considers the wind shall never sow\"; so he that busies his head too\nmuch about them, if the weather be not made extreme cold by an east\nwind, shall be a little superstitious: for as it is observed by some,\nthat \"there is no good horse of a bad colour\"; so I have observed, that\nif it be a cloudy day, and not extreme cold, let the wind sit in what\ncorner it will and do its worst, I heed it not. And yet take this for a\nrule, that I would willingly fish, standing on the lee-shore: and you\nare to take notice, that the fish lies or swims nearer the bottom, and\nin deeper water, in winter than in summer; and also nearer the bottom in\nany cold day, and then gets nearest the lee-side of the water.\n\nBut I promised to tell you more of the Fly-fishing for a Trout; which I\nmay have time enough to do, for you see it rains May-butter. First for a\nMayfly: you may make his body with greenish-coloured crewel, or\nwillowish colour; darkening it in most places with waxed silk; or ribbed\nwith black hair; or, some of them, ribbed with silver thread; and such\nwings, for the colour, as you see the fly to have at that season, nay,\nat that very day on the water. Or you may make the Oak-fly: with an\norange, tawny, and black ground; and the brown of a mallard's feather\nfor the wings. And you are to know, that these two are most excellent\nflies, that is, the May-fly and the Oak-fly.\n\nAnd let me again tell you, that you keep as far from the water as you\ncan possibly, whether you fish with a fly or worm; and fish down the\nstream. And when you fish with a fly, if it be possible, let no part of\nyour line touch the water, but your fly only; and be still moving your\nfly upon the water, or casting it into the water, you yourself being\nalso always moving down the stream.\n\nMr. Barker commends several sorts of the palmer-flies; not only those\nribbed with silver and gold, but others that have their bodies all made\nof black; or some with red, and a red hackle. You may also make the\nHawthorn-fly: which is all black, and not big, but very small, the\nsmaller the better. Or the oak-fly, the body of which is orange colour\nand black crewel, with a brown wing. Or a fly made with a peacock's\nfeather is excellent in a bright day: you must be sure you want not in\nyour magazine-bag the peacock's feather; and grounds of such wool and\ncrewel as will make the grasshopper. And note, that usually the smallest\nflies are the best; and note also, that the light fly does usually make\nmost sport in a dark day, and the darkest and least fly in a bright or\nclear day: and lastly note, that you are to repair upon any occasion to\nyour magazine-bag: and upon any occasion, vary and make them lighter or\nsadder, according to your fancy, or the day.\n\nAnd now I shall tell you, that the fishing with a natural-fly is\nexcellent, and affords much pleasure. They may be found thus: the\nMay-fly, usually in and about that month, near to the river-side,\nespecially against rain: the Oak-fly, on the butt or body of an oak or\nash, from the beginning of May to the end of August; it is a brownish\nfly and easy to be so found, and stands usually with his head downward,\nthat is to say, towards the root of the tree: the small black-fly, or\nHawthorn-fly, is to be had on any hawthorn bush after the leaves be come\nforth. With these and a short line, as I shewed to angle for a Chub, you\nmay cape or cop, and also with a grasshopper, behind a tree, or in any\ndeep hole; still making it to move on the top of the water as if it were\nalive, and still keeping yourself out of sight, you shall certainly have\nsport if there be Trouts; yea, in a hot day, but especially in the\nevening of a hot day, you will have sport.\n\nAnd now, scholar, my direction for fly-fishing is ended with this\nshower, for it has done raining. And now look about you, and see how\npleasantly that meadow looks; nay, and the earth smells so sweetly too.\nCome let me tell you what holy Mr. Herbert says of such days and flowers\nas these, and then we will thank God that we enjoy them, and walk to the\nriver and sit down quietly, and try to catch the other place of Trouts.\n\n    Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,\n    The bridal of the earth and sky,\n    Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night,\n          For thou must die.\n\n    Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,\n    Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,\n    Thy root is ever in its grave,\n          And thou must die.\n\n    Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,\n    A box where sweets compacted lie;\n    My music shews you have your closes,\n          And all must die.\n\n    Only a sweet and virtuous soul,\n    Like season'd timber, never gives,\n    But when the whole world turns to coal,\n          Then chiefly lives.\n\nVenator. I thank you, good master, for your good direction for\nfly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoyment of the pleasant day, which is\nso far spent without offence to God or man: and I thank you for the\nsweet close of your discourse with Mr. Herbert's verses; who, I have\nheard, loved angling; and I do the rather believe it, because he had a\nspirit suitable to anglers, and to those primitive Christians that you\nlove, and have so much commended.\n\nPiscator. Well, my loving scholar, and I am pleased to know that you are\nso well pleased with my direction and discourse.\n\nAnd since you like these verses of Mr. Herbert's so well, let me tell\nyou what a reverend and learned divine that professes to imitate him,\nand has indeed done so most excellently, hath writ of our book of Common\nPrayer; which I know you will like the better, because he is a friend of\nmine, and I am sure no enemy to angling.\n\nWhat! Pray'r by th' book? and Common? Yes; Why not?\n\n          The spirit of grace\n    And supplication\n    Is not left free alone\n          For time and place,\n    But manner too: to read, or speak, by rote,\n      Is all alike to him that prays,\n      In's heart, what with his mouth he says.\n\n    They that in private, by themselves alone,\n        Do pray, may take\n      What liberty they please,\n      In chusing of the ways\n        Wherein to make\n    Their soul's most intimate affections known\n      To him that sees in secret, when\n      Th' are most conceal'd from other men.\n\n    But he, that unto others leads the way\n        In public prayer,\n      Should do it so,\n      As all, that hear, may know\n        They need not fear\n    To tune their hearts unto his tongue, and say\n      Amen; not doubt they were betray'd\n      To blaspheme, when they meant to have pray'd.\n\n    Devotion will add life unto the letter:\n        And why should not\n      That, which authority\n      Prescribes, esteemed be\n        Advantage got?\n    If th' prayer be good, the commoner the better,\n      Prayer in the Church's words, as well\n      As sense, of all prayers bears the bell.\n\nAnd now, scholar, I think it will be time to repair to our angle-rods,\nwhich we left in the water to fish for themselves; and you shall choose\nwhich shall be yours; and it is an even lay, one of them catches.\n\nAnd, let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a dead rod, and laying\nnight-hooks, are like putting money to use; for they both work for the\nowners when they do nothing but sleep, or eat, or rejoice, as you know\nwe have done this last hour, and sat as quietly and as free from cares\nunder this sycamore, as Virgil's Tityrus and his Meliboeus did under\ntheir broad beech-tree. No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and\nso pleasant as the life of a well-governed angler; for when the lawyer\nis swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or\ncontriving plots, then we sit on cowslip-banks, hear the birds sing, and\npossess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams,\nwhich we now see glide so quietly by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may\nsay of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, \"Doubtless God\ncould have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did\"; and so,\nif I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent\nrecreation than angling.\n\nI'll tell you, scholar; when I sat last on this primrose-bank, and\nlooked down these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the emperor did\nof the city of Florence: \"That they were too pleasant to be looked on,\nbut only on holy-days\". As I then sat on this very grass, I turned my\npresent thoughts into verse: 'twas a Wish, which I'll repeat to you:--\n\n       The Angler's wish.\n\n    I in these flowery meads would be:\n    These crystal streams should solace me;\n    To whose harmonious bubbling noise\n    I with my Angle would rejoice:\n      Sit here, and see the turtle-dove\n      Court his chaste mate to acts of love:\n\n    Or, on that bank, feel the west wind\n    Breathe health and plenty: please my mind,\n    To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers,\n    And then washed off by April showers:\n      Here, hear my Kenna sing a song;\n      There, see a blackbird feed her young.\n\n    Or a leverock build her nest:\n    Here, give my weary spirits rest,\n    And raise my low-pitch'd thoughts above\n    Earth, or what poor mortals love:\n      Thus, free from law-suits and the noise\n      Of princes' courts, I would rejoice:\n\n    Or, with my Bryan, and a book,\n    Loiter long days near Shawford-brook;\n    There sit by him, and eat my meat,\n    There see the sun both rise and set:\n    There bid good morning to next day;\n      There meditate my time away,\n      And Angle on; and beg to have\n      A quiet passage to a welcome grave.\n\nWhen I had ended this composure, I left this place, and saw a brother of\nthe angle sit under that honeysuckle hedge, one that will prove worth\nyour acquaintance. I sat down by him, and presently we met with an\naccidental piece of merriment, which I will relate to you, for it rains\nstill.\n\nOn the other side of this very hedge sat a gang of gypsies; and near to\nthem sat a gang of beggars. The gypsies were then to divide all the\nmoney that had been got that week, either by stealing linen or poultry,\nor by fortune-telling or legerdemain, or, indeed, by any other sleights\nand secrets belonging to their mysterious government. And the sum that\nwas got that week proved to be but twenty and some odd shillings. The\nodd money was agreed to be distributed amongst the poor of their own\ncorporation: and for the remaining twenty shillings, that was to be\ndivided unto four gentlemen gypsies, according to their several degrees\nin their commonwealth. And the first or chiefest gypsy was, by consent,\nto have a third part of the twenty shillings, which all men know is 6s.\n8d. The second was to have a fourth part of the 20s., which all men know\nto be 5s. The third was to have a fifth part of the 20s., which all men\nknow to be 4s. The fourth and last gypsy was to have a sixth part of the\n20s., which all men know to be 3s. 4d.\n\n    As for example,\n              3 times 6s. 8d. are 20s.\n    And so is 4 times 5s.     are 20s.\n    And so is 5 times 4s.     are 20s.\n    And so is 6 times 3s. 4d. are 20s.\n\nAnd yet he that divided the money was so very a gypsy, that though he\ngave to every one these said sums, yet he kept one shilling of it for\nhimself\n\n       As, for example,    s.  d.\n                           6   8\n                           5   0\n                           4   0\n                           3   4\n                          ------\n    make but . . . . . .  19   0\n\nBut now you shall know, that when the four gypsies saw that he had got\none shilling by dividing the money, though not one of them knew any\nreason to demand more, yet, like lords and courtiers, every gypsy envied\nhim that was the gainer; and wrangled with him; and every one said the\nremaining shilling belonged to him; and so they fell to so high a\ncontest about it, as none that knows the faithfulness of one gypsy to\nanother will easily believe; only we that have lived these last twenty\nyears are certain that money has been able to do much mischief. However,\nthe gypsies were too wise to go to law, and did therefore choose their\nchoice friends Rook and Shark, and our late English Gusman, to be their\narbitrators and umpires. And so they left this honeysuckle hedge; and\nwent to tell fortunes and cheat, and get more money and lodging in the\nnext village.\n\nWhen these were gone, we heard as high a contention amongst the beggars,\nwhether it was easiest to rip a cloak, or to unrip a cloak? One beggar\naffirmed it was all one: but that was denied, by asking her, If doing\nand undoing were all one? Then another said, 'twas easiest to unrip a\ncloak; for that was to let it alone: but she was answered, by asking\nher, how she unript it if she let it alone? and she confess herself\nmistaken. These and twenty such like questions were proposed and\nanswered, with as much beggarly logick and earnestness as was ever heard\nto proceed from the mouth of the pertinacious schismatick; and sometimes\nall the beggars, whose number was neither more nor less than the poets'\nnine muses, talked all together about this ripping and unripping; and so\nloud, that not one heard what the other said: but, at last, one beggar\ncraved audience; and told them that old father Clause, whom Ben Jonson,\nin his Beggar's Bush, created King of their corporation, was to lodge at\nan ale-house, called \"Catch-her-by-the-way,\" not far from Waltham\nCross, and in the high road towards London; and he therefore desired\nthem to spend no more time about that and such like questions, but refer\nall to father Clause at night, for he was an upright judge, and in the\nmeantime draw cuts, what song should be next sung, and who should sing\nit. They all agreed to the motion; and the lot fell to her that was the\nyoungest, and veriest virgin of the company. And she sung Frank\nDavison's song, which he made forty years ago; and all the others of the\ncompany joined to sing the burthen with her. The ditty was this; but\nfirst the burthen:\n\n      Bright shines the sun; play, Beggars, play;\n      Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.\n\n    What noise of viols is so sweet,\n      As when our merry clappers ring?\n    What mirth doth want where Beggars meet?\n      A Beggar's life is for a King.\n    Eat, drink, and play, sleep when we list\n    Go where we will, so stocks be mist.\n      Bright shines the sun; play, Beggars, play,\n      Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.\n\n    The world is ours, and ours alone;\n      For we alone have world at will\n    We purchase not, all is our own;\n      Both fields and streets we Beggars fill.\n      Nor care to get, nor fear to keep,\n      Did ever break a Beggar's sleep,\n      Play, Beggars, play; play, Beggars, play;\n      Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.\n\n    A hundred head of black and white\n      Upon our gowns securely feed If any dare his master bite\n      He dies therefore, as sure as creed.\n    Thus Beggars lord it as they please;\n    And only Beggars live at ease.\n      Bright shines the sun; play, Beggars, play;\n      Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.\n\nVenator. I thank you, good master, for this piece of merriment, and this\nsong, which was well humoured by the maker, and well remembered by you.\n\nPiscator. But, I pray, forget not the catch which you promised to make\nagainst night; for our countryman, honest Coridon, will expect your\ncatch, and my song, which I must be forced to patch up, for it is so\nlong since I learnt it, that I have forgot a part of it. But, come, now\nit hath done raining, let's stretch our legs a little in a gentle walk\nto the river, and try what interest our angles will pay us for lending\nthem so long to be used by the Trouts; lent them indeed, like usurers,\nfor our profit and their destruction.\n\nVenator. Oh me! look you, master, a fish! a fish! Oh, alas, master, I\nhave lost her.\n\nPiscator. Ay marry, Sir, that was a good fish indeed: if I had had the\nluck to have taken up that rod, then 'tis twenty to one he should not\nhave broken my line by running to the rod's end, as you suffered him. I\nwould have held him within the bent of my rod, unless he had been fellow\nto the great Trout that is near an ell long, which was of such a length\nand depth, that he had his picture drawn, and now is to be seen at mine\nhost Rickabie's, at the George in Ware, and it may be, by giving that\nvery great Trout the rod, that is, by casting it to him into the water,\nI might have caught him at the long run, for so I use always to do when\nI meet with an over-grown fish; and you will learn to do so too,\nhereafter, for I tell you, scholar, fishing is an art, or, at least, it\nis an art to catch fish.\n\nVenator. But, master, I have heard that the great Trout you speak of is\na Salmon.\n\nPiscator. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say to it. There are\nmany country people that believe hares change sexes every year: and\nthere be very many learned men think so too, for in their dissecting\nthem they find many reasons to incline them to that belief. And to make\nthe wonder seem yet less, that hares change sexes, note that Dr. Mer.\nCasaubon affirms, in his book \"Of credible and incredible things,\" that\nGasper Peucerus, a learned physician, tells us of a people that once a\nyear turn wolves, partly in shape, and partly in conditions. And so,\nwhether this were a Salmon when he came into fresh water, and his not\nreturning into the sea hath altered him to another colour or kind, I am\nnot able to say; but I am certain he hath all the signs of being a\nTrout, both for his shape, colour, and spots; and yet many think he is\nnot.\n\nVenator. But, master, will this Trout which I had hold of die? for it is\nlike he hath the hook in his belly.\n\nPiscator. I will tell you, scholar, that unless the hook be fast in his\nvery gorge, 'tis more than probable he will live, and a little time,\nwith the help of the water, will rust the hook, and it will in time wear\naway, as the gravel doth in the horse-hoof, which only leaves a false\nquarter.\n\nAnd now, scholar, let's go to my rod. Look you, scholar, I have a fish\ntoo, but it proves a logger-headed Chub: and this is not much amiss, for\nthis will pleasure some poor body, as we go to our lodging to meet our\nbrother Peter and honest Coridon. Come, now bait your hook again, and\nlay it into the water, for it rains again; and we will even retire to\nthe Sycamore-tree, and there I will give you more directions concerning\nfishing, for I would fain make you an artist.\n\nVenator. Yes, good master, I pray let it be so.\n\nPiscator. Well, scholar, now that we are sate down and are at ease, I\nshall tell you a little more of Trout-fishing, before I speak of the\nSalmon, which I purpose shall be next, and then of the Pike or Luce.\n\nYou are to know, there is night as well as day fishing for a Trout; and\nthat, in the night, the best Trouts come out of their holes. And the\nmanner of taking them is on the top of the water with a great lob or\ngarden-worm, or rather two, which you are to fish with in a stream where\nthe waters run somewhat quietly, for in a stream the bait will not be so\nwell discerned. I say, in a quiet or dead place, near to some swift,\nthere draw your bait over the top of the water, to and fro, and if there\nbe a good Trout in the hole, he will take it, especially if the night be\ndark, for then he is bold, and lies near the top of the water, watching\nthe motion of any frog or water-rat, or mouse, that swims betwixt him\nand the sky; these he hunts after, if he sees the water but wrinkle or\nmove in one of these dead holes, where these great old Trouts usually\nlie, near to their holds; for you are to note, that the great old Trout\nis both subtle and fearful, and lies close all day, and does not usually\nstir out of his hold, but lies in it as close in the day as the timorous\nhare does in her form; for the chief feeding of either is seldom in the\nday, but usually in the night, and then the great Trout feeds very\nboldly.\n\nAnd you must fish for him with a strong line, and not a little hook; and\nlet him have time to gorge your hook, for he does not usually forsake\nit, as he oft will in the day-fishing. And if the night be not dark,\nthen fish so with an artificial fly of a light colour, and at the snap:\nnay, he will sometimes rise at a dead mouse, or a piece of cloth, or\nanything that seems to swim across the water, or to be in motion. This\nis a choice way, but I have not oft used it, because it is void of the\npleasures that such days as these, that we two now enjoy, afford an\nangler.\n\nAnd you are to know, that in Hampshire, which I think exceeds all\nEngland for swift, shallow, clear, pleasant brooks, and store of Trouts,\nthey used to catch Trouts in the night, by the light of a torch or\nstraw, which, when they have discovered, they strike with a Trout-spear,\nor other ways. This kind of way they catch very many: but I would not\nbelieve it till I was an eye-witness of it, nor do I like it now I have\nseen it.\n\nVenator. But, master, do not Trouts see us in the night?\n\nPiscator Yes, and hear, and smell too, both then and in the day-time:\nfor Gesner observes, the Otter smells a fish forty furlongs off him in\nthe water: and that it may be true, seems to be affirmed by Sir Francis\nBacon, in the eighth century of his Natural History, who there proves\nthat waters may be the medium of sounds, by demonstrating it thus: \"That\nif you knock two stones together very deep under the water, those that\nstand on a bank near to that place may hear the noise without any\ndiminution of it by the water \". He also offers the like experiment\nconcerning the letting an anchor fall, by a very long cable or rope, on\na rock, or the sand, within the sea. And this being so well observed and\ndemonstrated as it is by that learned man, has made me to believe that\nEels unbed themselves and stir at the noise of thunder, and not only, as\nsome think, by the motion or stirring of the earth which is occasioned\nby that thunder.\n\nAnd this reason of Sir Francis Bacon has made me crave pardon of one\nthat I laughed at for affirming that he knew Carps come to a certain\nplace, in a pond, to be fed at the ringing of a bell or the beating of a\ndrum. And, however, it shall be a rule for me to make as little noise as\nI can when I am fishing, until Sir Francis Bacon be confuted, which I\nshall give any man leave to do.\n\nAnd lest you may think him singular in this opinion, I will tell you,\nthis seems to be believed by our learned Doctor Hakewill, who in his\nApology of God's power and providence, quotes Pliny to report that one\nof the emperors had particular fish-ponds, and, in them, several fish\nthat appeared and came when they were called by their particular names.\nAnd St. James tells us, that all things in the sea have been tamed by\nmankind. And Pliny tells us, that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a\nLamprey at whose gills she hung jewels or ear-rings; and that others\nhave been so tender-hearted as to shed tears at the death of fishes\nwhich they have kept and loved. And these observations, which will to\nmost hearers seem wonderful, seem to have a further confirmation from\nMartial, who writes thus:--\n\n        Piscator, fuge; ne nocens, etc.\n\n    Angler! would'st thou be guiltless ? then forbear;\n    For these are sacred fishes that swim here,\n    Who know their sovereign, and will lick his hand,\n    Than which none's greater in the world's command;\n    Nay more they've names, and, when they called are,\n    Do to their several owner's call repair.\n\nAll the further use that I shall make of this shall be, to advise\nanglers to be patient, and forbear swearing, lest they be heard, and\ncatch no fish.\n\nAnd so I shall proceed next to tell you, it is certain that certain\nfields near Leominster, a town in Herefordshire, are observed to make\nthe sheep that graze upon them more fat than the next, and also to bear\nfiner wool; that is to say, that that year in which they feed in such a\nparticular pasture, they shall yield finer wool than they did that year\nbefore they came to feed in it; and coarser, again, if they shall return\nto their former pasture; and, again, return to a finer wool, being fed\nin the fine wool ground: which I tell you, that you may the better\nbelieve that I am certain, if I catch a Trout in one meadow, he shall be\nwhite and faint, and very like to be lousy; and, as certainly, it I\ncatch a Trout in the next meadow, he shall be strong, and red, and\nlusty, and much better meat. Trust me, scholar, I have caught many a\nTrout in a particular meadow, that the very shape and the enamelled\ncolour of him hath been such as hath joyed me to look on him: and I have\nthen, with much pleasure, concluded with Solomon, \"Everything is\nbeautiful in his season\".\n\nI should, by promise, speak next of the Salmon; but I will, by your\nfavour, say a little of the Umber or Grayling; which is so like a Trout\nfor his shape and feeding, that I desire I may exercise your patience\nwith a short discourse of him; and then, the next shall be of the\nSalmon.\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nThe Umber or Grayling\n\nChapter VI\n\nPiscator\n\nThe Umber and Grayling are thought by some to differ as the Herring and\nPilchard do. But though they may do so in other nations, I think those\nin England differ nothing but in their names. Aldrovandus says, they be\nof a Trout kind; and Gesner says, that in his country, which is\nSwitzerland, he is accounted the choicest of all fish. And in Italy, he\nis, in the month of May, so highly valued, that he is sold there at a\nmuch higher rate than any other fish. The French, which call the Chub Un\nVillain, call the Umber of the lake Leman Un Umble Chevalier; and they\nvalue the Umber or Grayling so highly, that they say he feeds on gold;\nand say, that many have been caught out of their famous river of Loire,\nout of whose bellies grains of gold have been often taken. And some\nthink that he feeds on water thyme, and smells of it at his first taking\nout of the water; and they may think so with as good reason as we do\nthat our Smelts smell like violets at their being first caught, which I\nthink is a truth. Aldrovandus says, the Salmon, the Grayling, and Trout,\nand all fish that live in clear and sharp streams, are made by their\nmother Nature of such exact shape and pleasant colours purposely to\ninvite us to a joy and contentedness in feasting with her. Whether this\nis a truth or not, is not my purpose to dispute: but 'tis certain, all\nthat write of the Umber declare him to be very medicinable. And Gesner\nsays, that the fat of an Umber or Grayling, being set, with a little\nhoney, a day or two in the sun, in a little glass, is very excellent\nagainst redness or swarthiness, or anything that breeds in the eyes.\nSalvian takes him to be called Umber from his swift swimming, or gliding\nout of sight more like a shadow or a ghost than a fish. Much more might\nbe said both of his smell and taste: but I shall only tell you that St.\nAmbrose, the glorious bishop of Milan, who lived when the church kept\nfasting-days, calls him the flower-fish, or flower of fishes; and that\nhe was so far in love with him, that he would not let him pass without\nthe honour of a long discourse; but I must; and pass on to tell you how\nto take this dainty fish.\n\nFirst note, that he grows not to the bigness of a Trout; for the biggest\nof them do not usually exceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers\nas the Trout does; and is usually taken with the same baits as the Trout\nis, and after the same manner; for he will bite both at the minnow, or\nworm, or fly, though he bites not often at the minnow, and is very\ngamesome at the fly; and much simpler, and therefore bolder than a\nTrout; for he will rise twenty times at a fly, if you miss him, and yet\nrise again. He has been taken with a fly made of the red feathers of a\nparoquet, a strange outlandish bird; and he will rise at a fly not\nunlike a gnat, or a small moth, or, indeed, at most flies that are not\ntoo big. He is a fish that lurks close all Winter, but is very pleasant\nand jolly after mid-April, and in May, and in the hot months. He is of a\nvery fine shape, his flesh is white, his teeth, those little ones that\nhe has, are in his throat, yet he has so tender a mouth, that he is\noftener lost after an angler has hooked him than any other fish. Though\nthere be many of these fishes in the delicate river Dove, and in Trent,\nand some other smaller rivers, as that which runs by Salisbury, yet he\nis not so general a fish as the Trout, nor to me so good to eat or to\nangle for. And so I shall take my leave of him: and now come to some\nobservations of the Salmon, and how to catch him.\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nThe Salmon\n\nChapter VII\n\nPiscator\n\nThe Salmon is accounted the King of freshwater fish; and is ever bred in\nrivers relating to the sea, yet so high, or far from it, as admits of no\ntincture of salt, or brackishness. He is said to breed or cast his\nspawn, in most rivers, in the month of August: some say, that then they\ndig a hole or grave in a safe place in the gravel, and there place their\neggs or spawn, after the melter has done his natural office, and then\nhide it most cunningly, and cover it over with gravel and stones; and\nthen leave it to their Creator's protection, who, by a gentle heat which\nhe infuses into that cold element, makes it brood, and beget life in the\nspawn, and to become Samlets early in the spring next following.\n\nThe Salmons having spent their appointed time, and done this natural\nduty in the fresh waters, they then haste to the sea before winter, both\nthe melter and spawner; but if they be stopped by flood-gates or weirs, or\nlost in the fresh waters, then those so left behind by degrees grow sick\nand lean, and unseasonable, and kipper, that is to say, have bony\ngristles grow out of their lower chaps, not unlike a hawk's beak, which\nhinders their feeding; and, in time, such fish so left behind pine away\nand die. 'Tis observed, that he may live thus one year from the sea; but\nhe then grows insipid and tasteless, and loses both his blood and\nstrength, and pines and dies the second year. And 'tis noted, that those\nlittle Salmons called Skeggers, which abound in many rivers relating to\nthe sea, are bred by such sick Salmons that might not go to the sea, and\nthat though they abound, yet they never thrive to any considerable\nbigness.\n\nBut if the old Salmon gets to the sea, then that gristle which shews him\nto be kipper, wears away, or is cast off, as the eagle is said to cast\nhis bill, and he recovers his strength, and comes next summer to the\nsame river, if it be possible, to enjoy the former pleasures that there\npossess him; for, as one has wittily observed, he has, like some persons\nof honour and riches which have both their winter and summer houses, the\nfresh rivers for summer, and the salt water for winter, to spend his\nlife in; which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his History\nof Life and Death, above ten years. And it is to be observed, that\nthough the Salmon does grow big in the sea, yet he grows not fat but in\nfresh rivers; and it is observed, that the farther they get from the\nsea, they be both the fatter and better.\n\nNext, I shall tell you, that though they make very hard shift to get out\nof the fresh rivers into the sea yet they will make harder shift to get\nout of the salt into the fresh rivers, to spawn, or possess the\npleasures that they have formerly found in them: to which end, they will\nforce themselves through floodgates, or over weirs, or hedges, or stops\nin the water, even to a height beyond common belief. Gesner speaks of\nsuch places as are known to be above eight feet high above water. And\nour Camden mentions, in his Britannia, the like wonder to be in\nPembrokeshire, where the river Tivy falls into the sea; and that the\nfall is so downright, and so high, that the people stand and wonder at\nthe strength and sleight by which they see the Salmon use to get out of\nthe sea into the said river; and the manner and height of the place is\nso notable, that it is known, far, by the name of the Salmon-leap.\nConcerning which, take this also out of Michael Drayton, my honest old\nfriend; as he tells it you, in his Polyolbion:\n\n    And when the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find;\n    (Which hither from the sea comes, yearly, by his kind,)\n    As he towards season grows; and stems the watry tract\n    Where Tivy, falling down, makes an high cataract,\n    Forc'd by the rising rocks that there her course oppose,\n    As tho' within her bounds they meant her to inclose;\n    Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,\n    And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strive;\n    His tail takes in his mouth, and, bending like a bow\n    That's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw,\n    Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand\n    That bended end to end, and started from man's hand,\n    Far off itself doth cast, so does that Salmon vault;\n    And if, at first, he fail, his second summersault\n    He instantly essays, and, from his nimble ring\n    Still yerking, never leaves until himself he fling\n    Above the opposing stream----.\n\nThis Michael Drayton tells you, of this leap or summersault of the\nSalmon.\n\nAnd, next, I shall tell you, that it is observed by Gesner and others,\nthat there is no better Salmon than in England; and that though some of\nour northern counties have as fat, and as large, as the river Thames,\nyet none are of so excellent a taste.\n\nAnd as I have told you that Sir Francis Bacon observes, the age of a\nSalmon exceeds not ten years; so let me next tell you, that his growth\nis very sudden: it is said that after he is got into the sea, he\nbecomes, from a Samlet not so big as a Gudgeon, to be a Salmon, in as\nshort a time as a gosling becomes to be a goose. Much of this has been\nobserved, by tying a riband, or some known tape or thread, in the tail\nof some young Salmons which have been taken in weirs as they have\nswimmed towards the salt water; and then by taking a part of them again,\nwith the known mark, at the same place, at their return from the sea,\nwhich is usually about six months after; and the like experiment hath\nbeen tried upon young swallows, who have, after six months' absence,\nbeen observed to return to the same chimney, there to make their nests\nand habitations for the summer following; which has inclined many to\nthink, that every Salmon usually returns to the same river in which it\nwas bred, as young pigeons taken out of the same dovecote have also been\nobserved to do.\n\nAnd you are yet to observe further, that the He-salmon is usually bigger\nthan the Spawner; and that he is more kipper, and less able to endure a\nwinter in the fresh water than the She is: yet she is, at that time of\nlooking less kipper and better, as watry, and as bad meat.\n\nAnd yet you are to observe, that as there is no general rule without an\nexception, so there are some few rivers in this nation that have Trouts\nand Salmon in season in winter, as 'tis certain there be in the river\nWye in Monmouthshire, where they be in season, as Camden observes, from\nSeptember till April. But, my scholar, the observation of this and many\nother things I must in manners omit, because they will prove too large\nfor our narrow compass of time, and, therefore, I shall next fall upon\nmy directions how to fish for this Salmon.\n\nAnd, for that: First you shall observe, that usually he stays not long\nin a place, as Trouts will, but, as I said, covets still to go nearer\nthe spring-head: and that he does not, as the Trout and many other fish,\nlie near the water-side or bank, or roots of trees, but swims in the\ndeep and broad parts of the water, and usually in the middle, and near\nthe ground, and that there you are to fish for him, and that he is to be\ncaught, as the Trout is, with a worm, a minnow which some call a peek,\nor with a fly.\n\nAnd you are to observe, that he is very seldom observed to bite at a\nminnow, yet sometimes he will, and not usually at a fly, but more\nusually at a worm, and then most usually at a lob or garden-worm, which\nshould be well scoured, that is to say, kept seven or eight days in moss\nbefore you fish with them: and if you double your time of eight into\nsixteen, twenty, or more days, it is still the better; for the worms\nwill still be clearer, tougher, and more lively, and continue so longer\nupon your hook. And they may be kept longer by keeping them cool, and in\nfresh moss; and some advise to put camphire into it.\n\nNote also, that many used to fish for a Salmon with a ring of wire on\nthe top of their rod, through which the line may run to as great a\nlength as is needful, when he is hooked. And to that end, some use a\nwheel about the middle of their rod, or near their hand, which is to be\nobserved better by seeing one of them than by a large demonstration of\nwords.\n\nAnd now I shall tell you that which may be called a secret. I have been\na-fishing with old Oliver Henly, now with God, a noted fisher both for\nTrout and Salmon; and have observed, that he would usually take three or\nfour worms out of his bag, and put them into a little box in his pocket,\nwhere he would usually let them continue half an hour or more, before he\nwould bait his hook with them. I have asked him his reason, and he has\nreplied, \"He did but pick the best out to be in readiness against he\nbaited his hook the next time\": but he has been observed, both by\nothers and myself, to catch more fish than I, or any other body that has\never gone a-fishing with him, could do, and especially Salmons. And I\nhave been told lately, by one of his most intimate and secret friends,\nthat the box in which he put those worms was anointed with a drop, or\ntwo or three, of the oil of ivy-berries, made by expression or infusion;\nand told, that by the worms remaining in that box an hour, or a like\ntime, they had incorporated a kind of smell that was irresistibly\nattractive, enough to force any fish within the smell of them to bite.\nThis I heard not long since from a friend, but have not tried it; yet I\ngrant it probable, and refer my reader to Sir Francis Bacon's Natural\nhistory, where he proves fishes may hear, and, doubtless, can more\nprobably smell: and I am certain Gesner says, the Otter can smell in the\nwater; and I know not but that fish may do so too. 'Tis left for a lover\nof angling, or any that desires to improve that art, to try this\nconclusion.\n\nI shall also impart two other experiments, but not tried by myself,\nwhich I will deliver in the same words that they were given me by an\nexcellent angler and a very friend, in writing: he told me the latter\nwas too good to be told, but in a learned language, lest it should be\nmade common.\n\n\"Take the stinking oil drawn out of polypody of the oak by a retort,\nmixed with turpentine and hive-honey, and anoint your bait therewith,\nand it will doubtless draw the fish to it.\"\n\nThe other is this: \"Vulnera hederae grandissimae inflicta sudant\nbalsamum oleo gelato, albicantique persimile, odoris vero longe\nsuavissimi\".\n\n\"'Tis supremely sweet to any fish, and yet assa foetida may do the\nlike.\"\n\nBut in these I have no great faith; yet grant it probable; and have had\nfrom some chymical men, namely, from Sir George Hastings and others, an\naffirmation of them to be very advantageous. But no more of these;\nespecially not in this place.\n\nI might here, before I take my leave of the Salmon, tell you, that there\nis more than one sort of them, as namely, a Tecon, and another called in\nsome places a Samlet, or by some a Skegger; but these, and others which\nI forbear to name, may be fish of another kind, and differ as we know a\nHerring and a Pilchard do, which, I think, are as different as the\nrivers in which they breed, and must, by me, be left to the\ndisquisitions of men of more leisure, and of greater abilities than I\nprofess myself to have.\n\nAnd lastly, I am to borrow so much of your promised patience, as to tell\nyou, that the trout, or Salmon, being in season, have, at their first\ntaking out of the water, which continues during life, their bodies\nadorned, the one with such red spots, and the other with such black or\nblackish spots, as give them such an addition of natural beauty as, I\nthink, was never given to any woman by the artificial paint or patches\nin which they so much pride themselves in this age. And so I shall leave\nthem both; and proceed to some observations of the Pike.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOn the Luce or Pike\n\nChapter VIII\n\nPiscator and Venator\n\nPiscator. The mighty Luce or Pike is taken to be the tyrant, as the\nSalmon is the king, of the fresh water. 'Tis not to be doubted, but that\nthey are bred, some by generation, and some not; as namely, of a weed\ncalled pickerel-weed, unless learned Gesner be much mistaken, for he\nsays, this weed and other glutinous matter, with the help of the sun's\nheat, in some particular months, and some ponds, apted for it by nature,\ndo become Pikes. But, doubtless, divers Pikes are bred after this\nmanner, or are brought into some ponds some such other ways as is past\nman's finding out, of which we have daily testimonies.\n\nSir Francis Bacon, in his History of Life and Death, observes the Pike\nto be the longest lived of any fresh-water fish; and yet he computes it\nto be not usually above forty years; and others think it to be not above\nten years: and yet Gesner mentions a Pike taken in Swedeland, in the\nyear 1449, with a ring about his neck, declaring he was put into that\npond by Frederick the Second, more than two hundred years before he was\nlast taken, as by the inscription in that ring, being Greek, was\ninterpreted by the then Bishop of Worms. But of this no more; but that\nit is observed, that the old or very great Pikes have in them more of\nstate than goodness; the smaller or middle-sized Pikes being, by the\nmost and choicest palates, observed to be the best meat: and, contrary,\nthe Eel is observed to be the better for age and bigness.\n\nAll Pikes that live long prove chargeable to their keepers, because\ntheir life is maintained by the death of so many other fish, even those\nof their own kind, which has made him by some writers to be called the\ntyrant of the rivers, or the fresh-water wolf, by reason of his bold,\ngreedy, devouring, disposition; which is so keen, as Gesner relates, A\nman going to a pond, where it seems a Pike had devoured all the fish, to\nwater his mule, had a Pike bit his mule by the lips; to which the Pike\nhung so fast, that the mule drew him out of the water; and by that\naccident, the owner of the mule angled out the Pike. And the same Gesner\nobserves, that a maid in Poland had a Pike bit her by the foot, as she\nwas washing clothes in a pond. And I have heard the like of a woman in\nKillingworth pond, not far from Coventry. But I have been assured by my\nfriend Mr. Segrave, of whom I spake to you formerly, that keeps tame\nOtters, that he hath known a Pike, in extreme hunger, fight with one of\nhis Otters for a Carp that the Otter had caught, and was then bringing\nout of the water. I have told you who relate these things; and tell you\nthey are persons of credit; and shall conclude this observation, by\ntelling you, what a wise man has observed, \"It is a hard thing to\npersuade the belly, because it has no ears\".\n\nBut if these relations be disbelieved, it is too evident to be doubted,\nthat a Pike will devour a fish of his own kind that shall be bigger than\nhis belly or throat will receive, and swallow a part of him, and let the\nother part remain in his mouth till the swallowed part be digested, and\nthen swallow that other part that was in his mouth, and so put it over\nby degrees; which is not unlike the Ox, and some other beasts taking\ntheir meat, not out of their mouth immediately into their belly, but\nfirst into some place betwixt, and then chew it, or digest it by degrees\nafter, which is called chewing the cud. And, doubtless, Pikes will bite\nwhen they are not hungry; but, as some think, even for very anger, when\na tempting bait comes near to them.\n\nAnd it is observed, that the Pike will eat venomous things, as some kind\nof frogs are, and yet live without being harmed by them; for, as some\nsay, he has in him a natural balsam, or antidote against all poison. And\nhe has a strange heat, that though it appear to us to be cold, can yet\ndigest or put over any fish-flesh, by degrees, without being sick. And\nothers observe, that he never eats the venomous frog till he have first\nkilled her, and then as ducks are observed to do to frogs in\nspawning-time, at which time some frogs are observed to be venomous, so\nthoroughly washed her, by tumbling her up and down in the water, that he\nmay devour her without danger. And Gesner affirms, that a Polonian\ngentleman did faithfully assure him, he had seen two young geese at one\ntime in the belly of a Pike. And doubtless a Pike in his height of\nhunger will bite at and devour a dog that swims in a pond; and there\nhave been examples of it, or the like; for as I told you, \"The belly\nhas no ears when hunger comes upon it\".\n\nThe Pike is also observed to be a solitary, melancholy, and a bold fish;\nmelancholy, because he always swims or rests himself alone, and never\nswims in shoals or with company, as Roach and Dace, and most other fish\ndo: and bold, because he fears not a shadow, or to see or be seen of\nanybody, as the Trout and Chub, and all other fish do.\n\nAnd it is observed by Gesner, that the jaw-bones, and hearts, and galls\nof Pikes, are very medicinable for several diseases, or to stop blood,\nto abate fevers, to cure agues, to oppose or expel the infection of the\nplague, and to be many ways medicinable and useful for the good of\nmankind: but he observes, that the biting of a Pike is venomous, and\nhard to be cured.\n\nAnd it is observed, that the Pike is a fish that breeds but once a year;\nand that other fish, as namely Loaches, do breed oftener: as we are\ncertain tame Pigeons do almost every month; and yet the Hawk, a bird of\nprey, as the Pike is a fish, breeds but once in twelve months. And you\nare to note, that his time of breeding, or spawning, is usually about\nthe end of February, or, somewhat later, in March, as the weather proves\ncolder or warmer: and to note, that his manner of breeding is thus: a he\nand a she Pike will usually go together out of a river into some ditch\nor creek; and that there the spawner casts her eggs, and the melter\nhovers over her all that time that she is casting her spawn, but touches\nher not.\n\nI might say more of this, but it might be thought curiosity or worse,\nand shall therefore forbear it; and take up so much of your attention as\nto tell you that the best of Pikes are noted to be in rivers; next,\nthose in great ponds or meres; and the worst, in small ponds.\n\nBut before I proceed further, I am to tell you, that there is a great\nantipathy betwixt the Pike and some frogs: and this may appear to the\nreader of Dubravius, a bishop in Bohemia, who, in his book Of Fish and\nFish-ponds, relates what he says he saw with his own eyes, and could not\nforbear to tell the reader. Which was:\n\n\"As he and the bishop Thurzo were walking by a large pond in Bohemia,\nthey saw a frog, when the Pike lay very sleepily and quiet by the shore\nside, leap upon his head; and the frog having expressed malice or anger\nby his sworn cheeks and staring eyes, did stretch out his legs and\nembrace the Pike's head, and presently reached them to his eyes, tearing\nwith them, and his teeth, those tender parts: the Pike, moved with\nanguish, moves up and down the water, and rubs himself against weeds,\nand whatever he thought might quit him of his enemy; but all in vain,\nfor the frog did continue to ride triumphantly, and to bite and torment\nthe Pike till his strength failed; and then the frog sunk with the Pike\nto the bottom of the water: then presently the frog appeared again at\nthe top, and croaked, and seemed to rejoice like a conqueror, after\nwhich he presently retired to his secret hole. The bishop, that had\nbeheld the battle, called his fisherman to fetch his nets, and by all\nmeans to get the Pike that they might declare what had happened: and the\nPike was drawn forth, and both his eyes eaten out; at which when they\nbegan to wonder, the fisherman wished them to forbear, and assured them\nhe was certain that Pikes were often so served.\"\n\nI told this, which is to be read in the sixth chapter of the book of\nDubravius, unto a friend, who replied, \"It was as improbable as to have\nthe mouse scratch out the cat's eyes\". But he did not consider, that\nthere be Fishing frogs, which the Dalmatians call the Water-devil, of\nwhich I might tell you as wonderful a story: but I shall tell you that\n'tis not to be doubted but that there be some frogs so fearful of the\nwater-snake, that when they swim in a place in which they fear to meet\nwith him they then get a reed across into their mouths; which if they\ntwo meet by accident, secures the frog from the strength and malice of\nthe snake; and note, that the frog usually swims the fastest of the two.\n\nAnd let me tell you, that as there be water and land frogs, so there be\nland and water snakes. Concerning which take this observation, that the\nland-snake breeds and hatches her eggs, which become young snakes, in\nsome old dunghill, or a like hot place: but the water-snake, which is\nnot venomous, and as I have been assured by a great observer of such\nsecrets, does not hatch, but breed her young alive, which she does not\nthen forsake, but bides with them, and in case of danger will take them\nall into her mouth and swim away from any apprehended danger, and then\nlet them out again when she thinks all danger to be past: these be\naccidents that we Anglers sometimes see, and often talk of.\n\nBut whither am I going? I had almost lost myself, by remembering the\ndiscourse of Dubravius. I will therefore stop here; and tell you,\naccording to my promise, how to catch this Pike.\n\nHis feeding is usually of fish or frogs; and sometimes a weed of his\nown, called pickerel-weed, of which I told you some think Pikes are\nbred; for they have observed, that where none have been put into ponds,\nyet they have there found many; and that there has been plenty of that\nweed in those ponds, and that that weed both breeds and feeds them: but\nwhether those Pikes, so bred, will ever breed by generation as the\nothers do, I shall leave to the disquisitions of men of more curiosity\nand leisure than I profess myself to have: and shall proceed to tell\nyou, that you may fish for a Pike, either with a ledger or a\nwalking-bait; and you are to note, that I call that a Ledger-bait, which\nis fixed or made to rest in one certain place when you shall be absent\nfrom it; and I call that a Walking-bait, which you take with you, and\nhave ever in motion. Concerning which two, I shall give you this\ndirection; that your ledger-bait is best to be a living bait (though a\ndead one may catch), whether it be a fish or a frog: and that you may\nmake them live the longer, you may, or indeed you must, take this\ncourse:\n\nFirst, for your LIVE-BAIT. Of fish, a roach or dace is, I think, best\nand most tempting; and a perch is the longest lived on a hook, and\nhaving cut off his fin on his back, which may be done without hurting\nhim, you must take your knife, which cannot be too sharp, and betwixt\nthe head and the fin on the back, cut or make an incision, or such a\nscar, as you may put the arming-wire of your hook into it, with as\nlittle bruising or hurting the fish as art and diligence will enable you\nto do; and so carrying your arming-wire along his back, unto or near the\ntail of your fish, betwixt the skin and the body of it, draw out that\nwire or arming of your hook at another scar near to his tail then tie\nhim about it with thread, but no harder than of necessity, to prevent\nhurting the fish; and the better to avoid hurting the fish, some have a\nkind of probe to open the way for the more easy entrance and passage of\nyour wire or arming: but as for these, time and a little experience will\nteach you better than I can by words. Therefore I will for the present\nsay no more of this; but come next to give you some directions how to\nbait your hook with a frog.\n\nVenator. But, good master, did you not say even now, that some frogs\nwere venomous; and is it not dangerous to touch them?\n\nPiscator. Yes, but I will give you some rules or cautions concerning\nthem. And first you are to note, that there are two kinds of frogs, that\nis to say, if I may so express myself, a flesh and fish frog. By\nflesh-frogs, I mean frogs that breed and live on the land; and of these\nthere be several sorts also, and of several colours, some being\nspeckled, some greenish, some blackish, or brown: the green frog, which\nis a small one, is, by Topsel, taken to be venomous; and so is the\npaddock, or frog-paddock, which usually keeps or breeds on the land, and\nis very large and bony, and big, especially the she-frog of that kind:\nyet these will sometimes come into the water, but it is not often: and\nthe land-frogs are some of them observed by him, to breed by laying\neggs; and others to breed of the slime and dust of the earth, and that\nin winter they turn to slime again, and that the next summer that very\nslime returns to be a living creature, this is the opinion of Pliny. And\nCardanus undertakes to give a reason for the raining of frogs: but if it\nwere in my power, it should rain none but water-frogs; for those I think\nare not venomous, especially the right water-frog, which, about February\nor March, breeds in ditches, by slime, and blackish eggs in that slime:\nabout which time of breeding, the he and she frogs are observed to use\ndivers summersaults, and to croak and make a noise, which the land-frog,\nor paddock-frog, never does.\n\nNow of these water-frogs, if you intend to fish with a frog for a Pike,\nyou are to choose the yellowest that you can get, for that the Pike ever\nlikes best. And thus use your frog, that he may continue long alive:\n\nPut your hook into his mouth, which you may easily do from the middle of\nApril till August; and then the frog's mouth grows up, and he continues\nso for at least six months without eating, but is sustained, none but He\nwhose name is Wonderful knows how: I say, put your hook, I mean the\narming-wire, through his mouth, and out at his gills; and then with a\nfine needle and silk sew the upper part of his leg, with only one\nstitch, to the arming-wire of your hook; or tie the frog's leg, above\nthe upper joint, to the armed-wire; and, in so doing, use him as though\nyou loved him, that is, harm him as little as you may possibly, that he\nmay live the longer.\n\nAnd now, having given you this direction for the baiting your\nledger-hook with a live fish or frog, my next must be to tell you, how\nyour hook thus baited must or may be used; and it is thus: having\nfastened your hook to a line, which if it be not fourteen yards long\nshould not be less than twelve, you are to fasten that line to any bough\nnear to a hole where a Pike is, or is likely to lie, or to have a haunt;\nand then wind your line on any forked stick, all your line, except half\na yard of it or rather more; and split that forked stick, with such a\nnick or notch at one end of it as may keep the line from any more of it\nravelling from about the stick than so much of it as you intend. And\nchoose your forked stick to be of that bigness as may keep the fish or\nfrog from pulling the forked stick under the water till the Pike bites;\nand then the Pike having pulled the line forth of the cleft or nick of\nthat stick in which it was gently fastened, he will have line enough to\ngo to his hold and pouch the bait. And if you would have this ledger-bait\nto keep at a fixt place undisturbed by wind or other accidents which may\ndrive it to the shore-side, for you are to note, that it is likeliest to\ncatch a Pike in the midst of the water, then hang a small plummet of\nlead, a stone, or piece of tile, or a turf, in a string, and cast it\ninto the water with the forked stick to hang upon the ground, to be a\nkind of anchor to keep the forked stick from moving out of your intended\nplace till the Pike come: this I take to be a very good way to use so\nmany ledger-baits as you intend to make trial of.\n\nOr if you bait your hooks thus with live fish or frogs, and in a windy\nday, fasten them thus to a bough or bundle of straw, and by the help of\nthat wind can get them to move across a pond or mere, you are like to\nstand still on the shore and see sport presently, if there be any store\nof Pikes. Or these live baits may make sport, being tied about the body\nor wings of a goose or duck, and she chased over a pond. And the like\nmay be done with turning three or four live baits, thus fastened to\nbladders, or boughs, or bottles of hay or flags, to swim down a river,\nwhilst you walk quietly alone on the shore, and are still in expectaion\nof sport. The rest must be taught you by practice; for time will not\nallow me to say more of this kind of fishing with live baits.\n\nAnd for your DEAD-BAIT for a Pike: for that you may be taught by one\nday's going a-fishing with me, or any other body that fishes for him;\nfor the baiting your hook with a dead gudgeon or a roach, and moving it\nup and down the water, is too easy a thing to take up any time to direct\nyou to do it. And yet, because I cut you short in that, I will commute\nfor it by telling you that that was told me for a secret: it is this:\nDissolve gum of ivy in oil of spike, and therewith anoint your dead bait\nfor a Pike; and then cast it into a likely place; and when it has lain a\nshort time at the bottom, draw it towards the top of the water, and so\nup the stream; and it is more than likely that you have a Pike follow\nwith more than common eagerness. And some affirm, that any bait anointed\nwith the marrow of the thigh-bone of a heron is a great temptation to\nany fish.\n\nThese have not been tried by me, but told me by a friend of note, that\npretended to do me a courtesy. But if this direction to catch a Pike\nthus do you no good, yet I am certain this direction how to roast him\nwhen he is caught is choicely good; for I have tried it, and it is\nsomewhat the better for not being common. But with my direction you must\ntake this caution, that your Pike must not be a small one, that is, it\nmust be more than half a yard, and should be bigger.\n\n\"First, open your Pike at the gills, and if need be, cut also a little\nslit towards the belly. Out of these, take his guts; and keep his liver,\nwhich you are to shred very small, with thyme, sweet marjoram, and a\nlittle winter-savoury; to these put some pickled oysters, and some\nanchovies, two or three; both these last whole, for the anchovies will\nmelt, and the oysters should not; to these, you must add also a pound of\nsweet butter, which you are to mix with the herbs that are shred, and\nlet them all be well salted. If the Pike be more than a yard long, then\nyou may put into these herbs more than a pound, or if he be less, then\nless butter will suffice: These, being thus mixt, with a blade or two of\nmace, must be put into the Pike's belly; and then his belly so sewed up\nas to keep all the butter in his belly if it be possible; if not, then\nas much of it as you possibly can. But take not off the scales. Then you\nare to thrust the spit through his mouth, out at his tail. And then take\nfour or five or six split sticks, or very thin laths, and a convenient\nquantity of tape or filleting; these laths are to be tied round about\nthe Pike's body, from his head to his tail, and the tape tied somewhat\nthick, to prevent his breaking or falling off from the spit. Let him be\nroasted very leisurely; and often basted with claret wine, and\nanchovies, and butter, mixt together; and also with what moisture falls\nfrom him into the pan. When you have roasted him sufficiently, you are\nto hold under him, when you unwind or cut the tape that ties him, such a\ndish as you purpose to eat him out of; and let him fall into it with the\nsauce that is roasted in his belly; and by this means the Pike will be\nkept unbroken and complete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and\nalso that sauce in the pan, you are to add a fit quantity of the best\nbutter, and to squeeze the juice of three or four oranges. Lastly, you\nmay either put it into the Pike, with the oysters, two cloves of\ngarlick, and take it whole out, when the Pike is cut off the spit; or,\nto give the sauce a haut go\u00fbt, let the dish into which you let the Pike\nfall be rubbed with it: The using or not using of this garlick is left\nto your discretion. M. B.\"\n\nThis dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men;\nand I trust you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with\nthis secret.\n\nLet me next tell you, that Gesner tells us, there are no Pikes in Spain,\nand that the largest are in the lake Thrasymene in Italy; and the next,\nif not equal to them, are the Pikes of England; and that in England,\nLincolnshire boasteth to have the biggest. Just so doth Sussex boast of\nfour sorts of fish, namely, an Arundel Mullet, a Chichester Lobster, a\nShelsey Cockle, and an Amerly Trout.\n\nBut I will take up no more of your time with this relation, but proceed\nto give you some Observations of the Carp, and how to angle for him; and\nto dress him but not till he is caught.\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOn the Carp\n\nChapter IX\n\nPiscator\n\nThe Carp is the queen of rivers; a stately, a good, and a very subtil\nfish; that was not at first bred, nor hath been long in England, but is\nnow naturalised. It is said, they were brought hither by one Mr. Mascal,\na gentleman that then lived at Plumsted in Sussex, a county that abounds\nmore with this fish than any in this nation.\n\nYou may remember that I told you Gesner says there are no Pikes in\nSpain; and doubtless there was a time, about a hundred or a few more\nyears ago, when there were no Carps in England, as may seem to be\naffirmed by Sir Richard Baker, in whose Chronicle you may find these\nverses:\n\n    Hops and turkies, carps and beer,\n    Came into England all in a year.\n\nAnd doubtless, as of sea-fish the Herring dies soonest out of the water,\nand of fresh-water fish the Trout, so, except the Eel, the Carp endures\nmost hardness, and lives longest out of its own proper element; and,\ntherefore, the report of the Carp's being brought out of a foreign\ncountry into this nation is the more probable.\n\nCarps and Loaches are observed to breed several months in one year,\nwhich Pikes and most other fish do not; and this is partly proved by\ntame and wild rabbits; as also by some ducks, which will lay eggs nine\nof the twelve months; and yet there be other ducks that lay not longer\nthan about one month. And it is the rather to be believed, because you\nshall scarce or never take a male Carp without a melt, or a female\nwithout a roe or spawn, and for the most part very much, and especially\nall the summer season; and it is observed, that they breed more\nnaturally in ponds than in running waters, if they breed there at all;\nand that those that live in rivers are taken by men of the best palates\nto be much the better meat.\n\nAnd it is observed that in some ponds Carps will not breed, especially\nin cold ponds; but where they will breed, they breed innumerably:\nAristotle and Pliny say six times in a year, if there be no Pikes nor\nPerch to devour their spawn, when it is cast upon grass or flags, or\nweeds, where it lies ten or twelve days before it be enlivened.\n\nThe Carp, if he have water-room and good feed, will grow to a very great\nbigness and length; I have heard, to be much above a yard long. It is\nsaid by Jovius, who hath writ of fishes, that in the lake Lurian in\nItaly, Carps have thriven to be more than fifty pounds weight: which is\nthe more probable, for as the bear is conceived and born suddenly, and\nbeing born is but short lived; so, on the contrary, the elephant is said\nto be two years in his dam's belly, some think he is ten years in it,\nand being born, grows in bigness twenty years; and it is observed too,\nthat he lives to the age of a hundred years. And 'tis also observed,\nthat the crocodile is very long-lived; and more than that, that all that\nlong life he thrives in bigness; and so I think some Carps do,\nespecially in some places, though I never saw one above twenty-three\ninches, which was a great and goodly fish; but have been assured there\nare of a far greater size, and in England too.\n\nNow, as the increase of Carps is wonderful for their number, so there is\nnot a reason found out, I think, by any, why they should breed in some\nponds, and not in others, of the same nature for soil and all other\ncircumstances. And as their breeding, so are their decays also very\nmysterious: I have both read it, and been told by a gentleman of tried\nhonesty, that he has known sixty or more large Carps put into several\nponds near to a house, where by reason of the stakes in the ponds, and\nthe owner's constant being near to them, it was impossible they should\nbe stole away from him; and that when he has, after three or four years,\nemptied the pond, and expected an increase from them by breeding young\nones, for that they might do so he had, as the rule is, put in three\nmelters for one spawner, he has, I say, after three or four years, found\nneither a young nor old Carp remaining. And the like I have known of one\nthat had almost watched the pond, and, at a like distance of time, at\nthe fishing of a pond, found, of seventy or eighty large Carps, not\nabove five or six: and that he had forborne longer to fish the said\npond, but that he saw, in a hot day in summer, a large Carp swim near\nthe top of the water with a frog upon his head; and that he, upon that\noccasion, caused his pond to be let dry: and I say, of seventy or eighty\nCarps, only found five or six in the said pond, and those very sick and\nlean, and with every one a frog sticking so fast on the head of the said\nCarps, that the frog would not be got off without extreme force or\nkilling. And the gentleman that did affirm this to me, told me he saw\nit; and did declare his belief to be, and I also believe the same, that\nhe thought the other Carps, that were so strangely lost, were so killed\nby the frogs, and then devoured.\n\nAnd a person of honour, now living in Worcestershire, assured me he had\nseen a necklace, or collar of tadpoles, hang like a chain or necklace of\nbeads about a Pike's neck, and to kill him: Whether it were for meat or\nmalice, must be, to me, a question.\n\nBut I am fallen into this discourse by accident; of which I might say\nmore, but it has proved longer than I intended, and possibly may not to\nyou be considerable: I shall therefore give you three or four more short\nobservations of the Carp, and then fall upon some directions how you\nshall fish for him.\n\nThe age of Carps is by Sir Francis Bacon, in his History of Life and\nDeath, observed to be but ten years; yet others think they live longer.\nGesner says, a Carp has been known to live in the Palatine above a\nhundred years. But most conclude, that, contrary to the Pike or Luce, all\nCarps are the better for age and bigness. The tongues of Carps are noted\nto be choice and costly meat, especially to them that buy them: but\nGesner says, Carps have no tongue like other fish, but a piece of\nfleshlike fish in their mouth like to a tongue, and should be called a\npalate: but it is certain it is choicely good, and that the Carp is to\nbe reckoned amongst those leather-mouthed fish which, I told you, have\ntheir teeth in their throat; and for that reason he is very seldom lost\nby breaking his hold, if your hook be once stuck into his chaps.\n\nI told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks that the Carp lives but ten\nyears: but Janus Dubravius has written a book Of fish and fish-ponds in\nwhich he says, that Carps begin to spawn at the age of three years, and\ncontinue to do so till thirty: he says also, that in the time of their\nbreeding, which is in summer, when the sun hath warmed both the earth\nand water, and so apted them also for generation, that then three or\nfour male Carps will follow a female; and that then, she putting on a\nseeming coyness, they force her through weeds and flags, where she lets\nfall her eggs or spawn, which sticks fast to the weeds; and then they\nlet fall their melt upon it, and so it becomes in a short time to be a\nliving fish: and, as I told you, it is thought that the Carp does this\nseveral months in the year; and most believe, that most fish breed after\nthis manner, except the Eel. And it has been observed, that when the\nspawner has weakened herself by doing that natural office, that two or\nthree melters have helped her from off the weeds, by bearing her up on\nboth sides, and guarding her into the deep. And you may note, that\nthough this may seem a curiosity not worth observing, yet others have\njudged it worth their time and costs to make glass hives, and order them\nin such a manner as to see how bees have bred and made their honeycombs,\nand how they have obeyed their king, and governed their commonwealth.\nBut it is thought that all Carps are not bred by generation; but that\nsome breed other ways, as some Pikes do.\n\nThe physicians make the galls and stones in the heads of Carps to be\nvery medicinable. But it is not to be doubted but that in Italy they\nmake great profit of the spawn of Carps, by selling it to the Jews, who\nmake it into red caviare; the Jews not being by their law admitted to\neat of caviare made of the Sturgeon, that being a fish that wants\nscales, and, as may appear in Leviticus xi., by them reputed to be\nunclean.\n\nMuch more might be said out of him, and out of Aristotle, which\nDubravius often quotes in his Discourse of Fishes: but it might rather\nperplex than satisfy you; and therefore I shall rather choose to direct\nyou how to catch, than spend more time in discoursing either of the\nnature or the breeding of this Carp, or of any more circumstances\nconcerning him. But yet I shall remember you of what I told you before,\nthat he is a very subtil fish, and hard to be caught.\n\nAnd my first direction is, that if you will fish for a Carp, you must\nput on a very large measure of patience, especially to fish for a river\nCarp: I have known a very good fisher angle diligently four or six hours\nin a day, for three or four days together, for a river Carp, and not\nhave a bite. And you are to note, that, in some ponds, it is as hard to\ncatch a Carp as in a river; that is to say, where they have store of\nfeed, and the water is of a clayish colour. But you are to remember that\nI have told you there is no rule without an exception; and therefore\nbeing possess with that hope and patience which I wish to all fishers,\nespecially to the Carp-angler, I shall tell you with what bait to fish\nfor him. But first you are to know, that it must be either early, or\nlate; and let me tell you, that in hot weather, for he will seldom bite\nin cold, you cannot be too early, or too late at it. And some have been\nso curious as to say, the tenth of April is a fatal day for Carps.\n\nThe Carp bites either at worms, or at paste: and of worms I think the\nbluish marsh or meadow worm is best; but possibly another worm, not too\nbig, may do as well, and so may a green gentle: and as for pastes, there\nare almost as many sorts as there are medicines for the toothache; but\ndoubtless sweet pastes are best; I mean, pastes made with honey or with\nsugar: which, that you may the better beguile this crafty fish, should\nbe thrown into the pond or place in which you fish for him, some hours,\nor longer, before you undertake your trial of skill with the angle-rod;\nand doubtless, if it be thrown into the water a day or two before, at\nseveral times, and in small pellets, you are the likelier, when you fish\nfor the Carp, to obtain your desired sport. Or, in a large pond, to draw\nthem to any certain place, that they may the better and with more hope\nbe fished for, you are to throw into it, in some certain place, either\ngrains, or blood mixt with cow-dung or with bran; or any garbage, as\nchicken's guts or the like; and then, some of your small sweet pellets\nwith which you propose to angle: and these small pellets being a few of\nthem also thrown in as you are angling, will be the better.\n\nAnd your paste must be thus made: take the flesh of a rabbit, or cat,\ncut small; and bean-flour; and if that may not be easily got, get other\nflour; and then, mix these together, and put to them either sugar, or\nhoney, which I think better: and then beat these together in a mortar,\nor sometimes work them in your hands, your hands being very clean; and\nthen make it into a ball, or two, or three, as you like best, for your\nuse: but you must work or pound it so long in the mortar, as to make it\nso tough as to hang upon your hook without washing from it, yet not too\nhard: or, that you may the better keep it on your hook, you may knead\nwith your paste a little, and not too much, white or yellowish wool.\n\nAnd if you would have this paste keep all the year, for any other fish,\nthen mix with it virgin-wax and clarified honey, and work them together\nwith your hands, before the fire; then make these into balls, and they\nwill keep all the year.\n\nAnd if you fish for a Carp with gentles, then put upon your hook a small\npiece of scarlet about this bigness, it being soaked in or anointed with\noil of petre, called by some, oil of the rock: and if your gentles be\nput, two or three days before, into a box or horn anointed with honey,\nand so put upon your hook as to preserve them to be living, you are as\nlike to kill this crafty fish this way as any other: but still, as you\nare fishing, chew a little white or brown bread in your mouth, and cast\nit into the pond about the place where your float swims. Other baits\nthere be; but these, with diligence and patient watchfulness, will do\nbetter than any that I have ever practiced or heard of. And yet I shall\ntell you, that the crumbs of white bread and honey made into a paste is\na good bait for a Carp; and you know, it is more easily made. And having\nsaid thus much of the Carp, my next discourse shall be of the Bream,\nwhich shall not prove so tedious; and therefore I desire the continuance\nof your attention.\n\nBut, first, I will tell you how to make this Carp, that is so curious to\nbe caught, so curious a dish of meat as shall make him worth all your\nlabour and patience. And though it is not without some trouble and\ncharges, yet it will recompense both.\n\nTake a Carp, alive if possible; scour him, and rub him clean with water\nand salt, but scale him not: then open him; and put him, with his blood\nand his liver, which you must save when you open him, into a small pot\nor kettle: then take sweet marjoram, thyme, and parsley, of each half a\nhandful; a sprig of rosemary, and another of savoury; bind them into two\nor three small bundles, and put them in your Carp, with four or five\nwhole onions, twenty pickled oysters, and three anchovies. Then pour\nupon your Carp as much claret wine as will only cover him; and season\nyour claret well with salt, cloves, and mace, and the rinds of oranges\nand lemons. That done, cover your pot and set it on a quick fire till it\nbe sufficiently boiled. Then take out the Carp; and lay it, with the\nbroth, into the dish; and pour upon it a quarter of a pound of the best\nfresh butter, melted, and beaten with half a dozen spoonfuls of the\nbroth, the yolks of two or three eggs, and some of the herbs shred:\ngarnish your dish with lemons, and so serve it up. And much good do you!\nDr. T.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOn the Bream\n\nChapter X\n\nPiscator\n\nThe Bream, being at a full growth, is a large and stately fish. He will\nbreed both in rivers and ponds: but loves best to live in ponds, and\nwhere, if he likes the water and air, he will grow not only to be very\nlarge, but as fat as a hog. He is by Gesner taken to be more pleasant,\nor sweet, than wholesome. This fish is long in growing; but breeds\nexceedingly in a water that pleases him; yea, in many ponds so fast, as\nto overstore them, and starve the other fish.\n\nHe is very broad, with a forked tail, and his scales set in excellent\norder; he hath large eyes, and a narrow sucking mouth; he hath two sets\nof teeth, and a lozenge-like bone, a bone to help his grinding. The\nmelter is observed to have two large melts; and the female, two large\nbags of eggs or spawn.\n\nGesner reports, that in Poland a certain and a great number of large\nbreams were put into a pond, which in the next following winter were\nfrozen up into one entire ice, and not one drop of water remaining, nor\none of these fish to be found, though they were diligently searched for;\nand yet the next spring, when the ice was thawed, and the weather warm,\nand fresh water got into the pond, he affirms they all appeared again.\nThis Gesner affirms; and I quote my author, because it seems almost as\nincredible as the resurrection to an atheist: but it may win something,\nin point of believing it, to him that considers the breeding or\nrenovation of the silk-worm, and of many insects. And that is\nconsiderable, which Sir Francis Bacon observes in his History of Life\nand Death, fol. 20, that there be some herbs that die and spring every\nyear, and some endure longer.\n\nBut though some do not, yet the French esteem this fish highly; and to\nthat end have this proverb \"He that hath Breams in his pond, is able to\nbid his friend welcome\"; and it is noted, that the best part of a Bream\nis his belly and head.\n\nSome say, that Breams and Roaches will mix their eggs and melt together;\nand so there is in many places a bastard breed of Breams, that never\ncome to be either large or good, but very numerous.\n\nThe baits good to catch this Bream are many. First, paste made of brown\nbread and honey; gentles; or the brood of wasps that be young, and then\nnot unlike gentles, and should be hardened in an oven, or dried on a\ntile before the fire to make them tough. Or, there is, at the root of\ndocks or flags or rushes, in watery places, a worm not unlike a maggot,\nat which Tench will bite freely. Or he will bite at a grasshopper with\nhis legs nipt off, in June and July; or at several flies, under water,\nwhich may be found on flags that grow near to the water-side. I doubt\nnot but that there be many other baits that are good; but I will turn\nthem all into this most excellent one, either for a Carp or Bream, in\nany river or mere: it was given to me by a most honest and excellent\nangler; and hoping you will prove both, I will impart it to you.\n\n1. Let your bait be as big a red worm as you can find, without a knot:\nget a pint or quart of them in an evening, in garden-walks, or chalky\ncommons, after a shower of rain; and put them with clean moss well\nwashed and picked, and the water squeezed out of the moss as dry as you\ncan, into an earthen pot or pipkin set dry; and change the moss fresh\nevery three or four days, for three weeks or a month together; then your\nbait will be at the best, for it will be clear and lively.\n\n2. Having thus prepared your baits, get your tackling ready and fitted\nfor this sport. Take three long angling-rods; and as many and more silk,\nor silk and hair, lines; and as many large swan or goose-quill floats.\nThen take a piece of lead, and fasten them to the low ends of your\nlines: then fasten your link-hook also to the lead; and let there be\nabout a foot or ten inches between the lead and the hook: but be sure\nthe lead be heavy enough to sink the float or quill, a little under the\nwater; and not the quill to bear up the lead, for the lead must lie on\nthe ground. Note, that your link next the hook may be smaller than the\nrest of your line, if you dare adventure, for fear of taking the Pike or\nPerch, who will assuredly visit your hooks, till they be taken out, as I\nwill show you afterwards, before either Carp or Bream will come near to\nbite. Note also, that when the worm is well baited, it will crawl up and\ndown as far as the lead will give leave, which much enticeth the fish to\nbite without suspicion.\n\n3. Having thus prepared your baits, and fitted your tackling, repair to\nthe river, where you have seen them swim in skulls or shoals, in the\nsummer-time, in a hot afternoon, about three or four of the clock; and\nwatch their going forth of their deep holes, and returning, which you\nmay well discern, for they return about four of the clock, most of them\nseeking food at the bottom, yet one or two will lie on the top of the\nwater, rolling and tumbling themselves, whilst the rest are under him at\nthe bottom; and so you shall perceive him to keep sentinel: then mark\nwhere he plays most and stays longest, which commonly is in the broadest\nand deepest place of the river; and there, or near thereabouts, at a\nclear bottom and a convenient landing-place, take one of your angles\nready fitted as aforesaid, and sound the bottom, which should be about\neight or ten feet deep; two yards from the bank is best. Then consider\nwith yourself, whether that water will rise or fall by the next morning,\nby reason of any water-mills near; and, according to your discretion,\ntake the depth of the place, where you mean after to cast your\nground-bait, and to fish, to half an inch; that the lead lying on or\nnear the ground-bait, the top of the float may only appear upright half\nan inch above the water.\n\nThus you having found and fitted for the place and depth thereof, then\ngo home and prepare your ground-bait, which is, next to the fruit of\nyour labours, to be regarded.\n\n\nThe GROUND-BAIT.\n\nYou shall take a peck, or a peck and a half, according to the greatness\nof the stream and deepness of the water, where you mean to angle, of\nsweet gross-ground barley-malt; and boil it in a kettle, one or two\nwarms is enough: then strain it through a bag into a tub, the liquor\nwhereof hath often done my horse much good; and when the bag and malt is\nnear cold, take it down to the water-side, about eight or nine of the\nclock in the evening, and not before: cast in two parts of your\nground-bait, squeezed hard between both your hands; it will sink\npresently to the bottom; and be sure it may rest in the very place where\nyou mean to angle: if the stream run hard, or move a little, cast your\nmalt in handfuls a little the higher, upwards the stream. You may,\nbetween your hands, close the malt so fast in handfuls, that the water\nwill hardly part it with the fall.\n\nYour ground thus baited, and tackling fitted, leave your bag, with the\nrest of your tackling and ground-bait, near the sporting-place all\nnight; and in the morning, about three or four of the clock, visit the\nwater-side, but not too near, for they have a cunning watchman, and are\nwatchful themselves too.\n\nThen, gently take one of your three rods, and bait your hook; casting it\nover your ground-bait, and gently and secretly draw it to you till the\nlead rests about the middle of the ground-bait.\n\nThen take a second rod, and cast in about a yard above, and your third a\nyard below the first rod; and stay the rods in the ground: but go\nyourself so far from the water-side, that you perceive nothing but the\ntop of the floats, which you must watch most diligently. Then when you\nhave a bite, you shall perceive the top of your float to sink suddenly\ninto the water: yet, nevertheless, be not too hasty to run to your rods,\nuntil you see that the line goes clear away; then creep to the\nwater-side, and give as much line as possibly you can: if it be a good\nCarp or Bream, they will go to the farther side of the river: then\nstrike gently, and hold your rod at a bent, a little while; but if you\nboth pull together, you are sure to lose your game, for either your\nline, or hook, or hold, will break: and after you have overcome them,\nthey will make noble sport, and are very shy to be landed. The Carp is\nfar stronger and more mettlesome than the Bream.\n\nMuch more is to be observed in this kind of fish and fishing, but it is\nfar fitter for experience and discourse than paper. Only, thus much is\nnecessary for you to know, and to be mindful and careful of, that if the\nPike or Perch do breed in that river, they will be sure to bite first,\nand must first be taken. And for the most part they are very large; and\nwill repair to your ground-bait, not that they will eat of it, but will\nfeed and sport themselves among the young fry that gather about and\nhover over the bait.\n\nThe way to discern the Pike and to take him, it you mistrust your Bream\nhook, for I have taken a Pike a yard long several times at my Bream\nhooks, and sometimes he hath had the luck to share my line, may be thus:\n\nTake a small Bleak, or Roach, or Gudgeon, and bait it; and set it,\nalive, among your rods, two feet deep from the cork, with a little red\nworm on the point of the hook: then take a few crumbs of white bread, or\nsome of the ground-bait, and sprinkle it gently amongst your rods. If\nMr. Pike be there, then the little fish will skip out of the water at\nhis appearance, but the live-set bait is sure to be taken.\n\nThus continue your sport from four in the morning till eight, and if it\nbe a gloomy windy day, they will bite all day long: but this is too long\nto stand to your rods, at one place; and it will spoil your evening\nsport that day, which is this.\n\nAbout four of the clock in the afternoon repair to your baited place;\nand as soon as you come to the water-side, cast in one-half of the rest\nof your ground-bait, and stand off; then whilst the fish are gathering\ntogether, for there they will most certainly come for their supper, you\nmay take a pipe of tobacco: and then, in with your three rods, as in the\nmorning. You will find excellent sport that evening, till eight of the\nclock: then cast in the residue of your ground-bait, and next morning,\nby four of the clock, visit them again for four hours, which is the best\nsport of all; and after that, let them rest till you and your friends\nhave a mind to more sport.\n\nFrom St. James's-tide until Bartholomew-tide is the best; when they have\nhad all the summer's food, they are the fattest.\n\nObserve, lastly, that after three or four days' fishing together, your\ngame will be very shy and wary, and you shall hardly get above a bite or\ntwo at a baiting: then your only way is to desist from your sport, about\ntwo or three days: and in the meantime, on the place you late baited,\nand again intend to bait, you shall take a turf of green but short\ngrass, as big or bigger than a round trencher; to the top of this turf,\non the green side, you shall, with a needle and green thread, fasten one\nby one, as many little red worms as will near cover all the turf: then\ntake a round board or trencher, make a hole in the middle thereof, and\nthrough the turf placed on the board or trencher, with a string or cord\nas long as is fitting, tied to a pole, let it down to the bottom of the\nwater, for the fish to feed upon without disturbance about two or three\ndays; and after that you have drawn it away, you may fall to, and enjoy\nyour former recreation.\n\nB. A.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOn the Tench\n\nChapter XI\n\nPiscator\n\nThe Tench, the physician of fishes, is observed to love ponds better\nthan rivers, and to love pits better than either: yet Camden observes,\nthere is a river in Dorsetshire that abounds with Tenches, but doubtless\nthey retire to the most deep and quiet places in it.\n\nThis fish hath very large fins, very small and smooth scales, a red\ncircle about his eyes, which are big and of a gold colour, and from\neither angle of his mouth there hangs down a little barb. In every\nTench's head there are two little stones which foreign physicians make\ngreat use of, but he is not commended for wholesome meat, though there\nbe very much use made of them for outward applications. Rondeletius\nsays, that at his being at Rome, he saw a great cure done by applying a\nTench to the feet of a very sick man. This, he says, was done after an\nunusual manner, by certain Jews. And it is observed that many of those\npeople have many secrets yet unknown to Christians; secrets that have\nnever yet been written, but have been since the days of their Solomon,\nwho knew the nature of all things, even from the cedar to the shrub,\ndelivered by tradition, from the father to the son, and so from\ngeneration to generation, without writing; or, unless it were casually,\nwithout the least communicating them to any other nation or tribe; for\nto do that they account a profanation. And, yet, it is thought that\nthey, or some spirit worse than they, first told us, that lice,\nswallowed alive, were a certain cure for the yellow-jaundice. This, and\nmany other medicines, were discovered by them, or by revelation; for,\ndoubtless, we attained them not by study.\n\nWell, this fish, besides his eating, is very useful, both dead and\nalive, for the good of mankind. But I will meddle no more with that, my\nhonest, humble art teaches no such boldness: there are too many foolish\nmeddlers in physick and divinity that think themselves fit to meddle\nwith hidden secrets, and so bring destruction to their followers. But\nI'll not meddle with them, any farther than to wish them wiser; and\nshall tell you next, for I hope I may be so bold, that the Tench is the\nphysician of fishes, for the Pike especially, and that the Pike, being\neither sick or hurt, is cured by the touch of the Tench. And it is\nobserved that the tyrant Pike will not be a wolf to his physician, but\nforbears to devour him though he be never so hungry.\n\nThis fish, that carries a natural balsam in him to cure both himself and\nothers, loves yet to feed in very foul water, and amongst weeds. And\nyet, I am sure, he eats pleasantly, and, doubtless, you will think so\ntoo, if you taste him. And I shall therefore proceed to give you some\nfew, and but a few, directions how to catch this Tench, of which I have\ngiven you these observations.\n\nHe will bite at a paste made of brown bread and honey, or at a\nmarsh-worm, or a lob-worm; he inclines very much to any paste with which\ntar is mixt, and he will bite also at a smaller worm with his head\nnipped off, and a cod-worm put on the hook before that worm. And I doubt\nnot but that he will also, in the three hot months, for in the nine\ncolder he stirs not much, bite at a flag-worm or at a green gentle; but\ncan positively say no more of the Tench, he being a fish I have not\noften angled for; but I wish my honest scholar may, and be ever\nfortunate when he fishes.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOn the Perch\n\nChapter XII\n\nPiscator and Venator\n\nPiscator. The Perch is a very good and very bold biting fish. He is one\nof the fishes of prey that, like the Pike and Trout, carries his teeth\nin his mouth, which is very large: and he dare venture to kill and\ndevour several other kinds of fish. He has a hooked or hog back, which\nis armed with sharp and stiff bristles, and all his skin armed, or\ncovered over with thick dry hard scales, and hath, which few other fish\nhave, two fins on his back. He is so bold that he will invade one of his\nown kind, which the Pike will not do so willingly; and you may,\ntherefore, easily believe him to be a bold biter.\n\nThe Perch is of great esteem in Italy, saith Aldrovandus: and especially\nthe least are there esteemed a dainty dish. And Gesner prefers the Perch\nand Pike above the Trout, or any fresh-water fish: he says the Germans\nhave this proverb, \"More wholesome than a Perch of Rhine\": and he says\nthe River-Perch is so wholesome, that physicians allow him to be eaten\nby wounded men, or by men in fevers, or by women in child-bed.\n\nHe spawns but once a year; and is, by physicians, held very nutritive;\nyet, by many, to be hard of digestion. They abound more in the river Po,\nand in England, says Rondeletius, than other parts: and have in their\nbrain a stone, which is, in foreign parts, sold by apothecaries, being\nthere noted to be very medicinable against the stone in the reins. These\nbe a part of the commendations which some philosophical brains have\nbestowed upon the freshwater Perch: yet they commend the Sea-Perch which\nis known by having but one fin on his back, of which they say we English\nsee but a few, to be a much better fish.\n\nThe Perch grows slowly, yet will grow, as I have been credibly informed,\nto be almost two feet long; for an honest informer told me, such a one\nwas not long since taken by Sir Abraham Williams, a gentleman of worth,\nand a brother of the angle, that yet lives, and I wish he may: this was\na deep-bodied fish, and doubtless durst have devoured a Pike of half his\nown length. For I have told you, he is a bold fish; such a one as but\nfor extreme hunger the Pike will not devour. For to affright the Pike,\nand save himself, the Perch will set up his fins, much like as a\nturkey-cock will sometimes set up his tail.\n\nBut, my scholar, the Perch is not only valiant to defend himself, but he\nis, as I said, a bold-biting fish: yet he will not bite at all seasons\nof the year; he is very abstemious in winter, yet will bite then in the\nmidst of the day, if it be warm: and note, that all fish bite best about\nthe midst of warm day in winter. And he hath been observed, by some, not\nusually to bite till the mulberry-tree buds; that is to say, till\nextreme frosts be past the spring; for, when the mulberry-tree blossoms,\nmany gardeners observe their forward fruit to be past the danger of\nfrosts; and some have made the like observation of the Perch's biting.\n\nBut bite the Perch will, and that very boldly. And, as one has wittily\nobserved, if there be twenty or forty in a hole, they may be, at one\nstanding, all catched one after another; they being, as he says, like\nthe wicked of the world, not afraid, though their fellows and companions\nperish in their sight. And you may observe, that they are not like the\nsolitary Pike, but love to accompany one another, and march together in\ntroops.\n\nAnd the baits for this bold fish are not many: I mean, he will bite as\nwell at some, or at any of these three, as at any or all others\nwhatsoever: a worm, a minnow, or a little frog, of which you may find\nmany in hay-time. And of worms; the dunghill worm called a brandling I\ntake to be best, being well scoured in moss or fennel; or he will bite\nat a worm that lies under cow-dung, with a bluish head. And if you rove\nfor a Perch with a minnow, then it is best to be alive; you sticking\nyour hook through his back fin; or a minnow with the hook in his upper\nlip, and letting him swim up and down, about mid-water, or a little\nlower, and you still keeping him to about that depth by a cork, which\nought not to be a very little one: and the like way you are to fish for\nthe Perch with a small frog, your hook being fastened through the skin\nof his leg, towards the upper part of it: and, lastly, I will give you\nbut this advice, that you give the Perch time enough when he bites; for\nthere was scarce ever any angler that has given him too much. And now I\nthink best to rest myself; for I have almost spent my spirits with\ntalking so long.\n\nVenator. Nay, good master, one fish more, for you see it rains still:\nand you know our angles are like money put to usury; they may thrive,\nthough we sit still, and do nothing but talk and enjoy one another.\nCome, come, the other fish, good master.\n\nPiscator. But, scholar, have you nothing to mix with this discourse,\nwhich now grows both tedious and tiresome? Shall I have nothing from\nyou, that seem to have both a good memory and a cheerful spirit?\n\nVenator. Yes, master, I will speak you a copy of verses that were made\nby Doctor Donne, and made to shew the world that he could make soft and\nsmooth verses, when he thought smoothness worth his labour: and I love\nthem the better, because they allude to Rivers, and Fish and Fishing.\nThey be these:\n\n    Come, live with me, and be my love,\n    And we will some new pleasures prove,\n    Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,\n    With silken lines, and silver hooks.\n\n    There will the river whisp'ring run,\n    Warm'd by thy eyes more than the sun\n    And there the enamel'd fish will stay\n    Begging themselves they may betray.\n\n    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,\n    Each fish, which every channel hash,\n    Most amorously to thee will swim,\n    Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.\n\n    If thou, to be so seen, beest loath\n    By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;\n    And if mine eyes have leave to see,\n    I need not their light, having thee,\n\n    Let others freeze with angling reeds,\n    And cut their legs with shells and weeds,\n    Or treacherously poor fish beset\n    With strangling snares or windowy net;\n\n    Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest,\n    The bedded fish in banks outwrest;\n    Let curious traitors sleeve silk flies,\n    To 'witch poor wand'ring fishes' eyes.\n\n    For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,\n    For thou thyself art shine own bait;\n    That fish that is not catcht thereby,\n    Is wiser afar, alas, than I.\n\nPiscator. Well remembered, honest scholar. I thank you for these choice\nverses; which I have heard formerly, but had quite forgot, till they\nwere recovered by your happy memory. Well, being I have now rested\nmyself a little, I will make you some requital, by telling you some\nobservations of the Eel; for it rains still: and because, as you say,\nour angles are as money put to use, that thrives when we play, therefore\nwe'll sit still, and enjoy ourselves a little longer under this\nhoneysuckle hedge.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOf the Eel, and other Fish that want Scales\n\nChapter XIII\n\nPiscator\n\nIt is agreed by most men, that the Eel is a most dainty fish: the Romans\nhave esteemed her the Helena of their feasts; and some the queen of\npalate-pleasure. But most men differ about their breeding: some say they\nbreed by generation, as other fish do; and others, that they breed, as\nsome worms do, of mud; as rats and mice, and many other living\ncreatures, are bred in Egypt, by the sun's heat when it shines upon the\noverflowing of the river Nilus; or out of the putrefaction of the earth,\nand divers other ways. Those that deny them to breed by generation, as\nother fish do, ask, If any man ever saw an Eel to have a spawn or melt?\nAnd they are answered, That they may be as certain of their breeding as\nif they had seen spawn; for they say, that they are certain that Eels\nhave all parts fit for generation, like other fish, but so small as not\nto be easily discerned, by reason of their fatness; but that discerned\nthey may be; and that the He and the She Eel may be distinguished by\ntheir fins. And Rondeletius says, he has seen Eels cling together like\ndew-worms.\n\nAnd others say, that Eels, growing old, breed other Eels out of the\ncorruption of their own age; which, Sir Francis Bacon says, exceeds not\nten years. And others say, that as pearls are made of glutinous\ndewdrops, which are condensed by the sun's heat in those countries, so\nEels are bred of a particular dew, falling in the months of May or June\non the banks of some particular ponds or rivers, apted by nature for\nthat end; which in a few days are, by the sun's heat, turned into Eels:\nand some of the Ancients have called the Eels that are thus bred, the\noffspring of Jove. I have seen, in the beginning of July, in a river not\nfar from Canterbury, some parts of it covered over with young Eels,\nabout the thickness of a straw; and these Eels did lie on the top of\nthat water, as thick as motes are said to be in the sun: and I have\nheard the like of other rivers, as namely, in Severn, where they are\ncalled Yelvers; and in a pond, or mere near unto Staffordshire, where,\nabout a set time in summer, such small Eels abound so much, that many of\nthe poorer sort of people that inhabit near to it, take such Eels out of\nthis mere with sieves or sheets; and make a kind of Eel-cake of them,\nand eat it like as bread. And Gesner quotes Venerable Bede, to say, that\nin England there is an island called Ely, by reason of the innumerable\nnumber of Eels that breed in it. But that Eels may be bred as some\nworms, and some kind of bees and wasps are, either of dew, or out of the\ncorruption of the earth, seems to be made probable by the barnacles and\nyoung goslings bred by the sun's heat and the rotten planks of an old\nship, and hatched of trees; both which are related for truths by Du\nBartas and Lobel, and also by our learned Camden, and laborious Gerhard\nin his Herbal.\n\nIt is said by Rondeletius, that those Eels that are bred in rivers that\nrelate to or be nearer to the sea, never return to the fresh waters, as\nthe Salmon does always desire to do, when they have once tasted the salt\nwater; and I do the more easily believe this, because I am certain that\npowdered beef is a most excellent bait to catch an Eel. And though Sir\nFrancis Bacon will allow the Eel's life to be but ten years, yet he, in\nhis History of Life and Death, mentions a Lamprey, belonging to the\nRoman emperor, to be made tame, and so kept for almost threescore years;\nand that such useful and pleasant observations were made of this\nLamprey, that Crassus the orator, who kept her, lamented her death; and\nwe read in Doctor Hakewill, that Hortensius was seen to weep at the\ndeath of a Lamprey that he had kept long, and loved exceedingly.\n\nIt is granted by all, or most men, that Eels, for about six months, that\nis to say, the six cold months of the year, stir not up or down, neither\nin the rivers, nor in the pools in which they usually are, but get into\nthe soft earth or mud; and there many of them together bed themselves,\nand live without feeding upon anything, as I have told you some swallows\nhave been observed to do in hollow trees, for those six cold months. And\nthis the Eel and Swallow do, as not being able to endure winter weather:\nfor Gesner quotes Albertus to say, that in the year 1125, that year's\nwinter being more cold than usually, Eels did, by nature's instinct, get\nout of the water into a stack of hay in a meadow upon dry ground; and\nthere bedded themselves: but yet, at last, a frost killed them. And our\nCamden relates, that, in Lancashire, fishes were digged out of the earth\nwith spades, where no water was near to the place. I shall say little\nmore of the Eel, but that, as it is observed he is impatient of cold, so\nit hath been observed, that, in warm weather, an Eel has been known to\nlive five days out of the water.\n\nAnd lastly, let me tell you, that some curious searchers into the\nnatures of fish observe, that there be several sorts or kinds of Eels;\nas the silver Eel, the green or greenish Eel, with which the river of\nThames abounds, and those are called Grigs; and a blackish Eel, whose\nhead is more flat and bigger than ordinary Eels; and also an Eel whose\nfins are reddish, and but seldom taken in this nation, and yet taken\nsometimes. These several kind of Eels are, say some, diversely bred; as,\nnamely, out of the corruption of the earth; and some by dew, and other\nways, as I have said to you: and yet it is affirmed by some for a\ncertain, that the silver Eel is bred by generation, but not by spawning\nas other fish do; but that her brood come alive from her, being then\nlittle live Eels no bigger nor longer than a pin; and I have had too\nmany testimonies of this, to doubt the truth of it myself; and if I\nthought it needful I might prove it, but I think it is needless.\n\nAnd this Eel, of which I have said so much to you, may be caught with\ndivers kinds of baits: as namely, with powdered beef; with a lob or\ngarden worm; with a minnow; or gut of a hen, chicken, or the guts of any\nfish, or with almost anything, for he is a greedy fish. But the Eel may\nbe caught, especially, with a little, a very little Lamprey, which some\ncall a Pride, and may, in the hot months, be found many of them in the\nriver Thames, and in many mud-heaps in other rivers; yea, almost as\nusually as one finds worms in a dunghill.\n\nNext note, that the Eel seldom stirs in the day, but then hides himself;\nand therefore he is usually caught by night, with one of these baits of\nwhich I have spoken; and may be then caught by laying hooks, which you\nare to fasten to the bank, or twigs of a tree; or by throwing a string\nacross the stream, with many hooks at it, and those baited with the\naforesaid baits; and a clod, or plummet, or stone, thrown into the river\nwith this line, that so you may in the morning find it near to some\nfixed place; and then take it up with a drag-hook, or otherwise. But\nthese things are, indeed, too common to be spoken of; and an hour's\nfishing with any angler will teach you better, both for these and many\nother common things in the practical part of angling, than a week's\ndiscourse. I shall therefore conclude this direction for taking the Eel,\nby telling you, that in a warm day in summer, I have taken many a good\nEel by Snigling, and have been much pleased with that sport.\n\nAnd because you, that are but a young angler, know not what Snigling is\nI will now teach it to you. You remember I told you that Eels do not\nusually stir in the daytime; for then they hide themselves under some\ncovert; or under boards or planks about flood-gates, or weirs, or mills;\nor in holes on the river banks: so that you, observing your time in a\nwarm day, when the water is lowest, may take a strong small hook, tied\nto a strong line, or to a string about a yard long; and then into one of\nthese holes, or between any boards about a mill, or under any great\nstone or plank, or any place where you think an Eel may hide or shelter\nherself, you may, with the help of a short stick, put in your bait, but\nleisurely, and as far as you may conveniently; and it is scarce to be\ndoubted, but if there be an Eel within the sight of it, the Eel will\nbite instantly, and as certainly gorge it; and you need not doubt to\nhave him if you pull him not out of the hole too quickly, but pull him\nout by degrees; for he, lying folded double in his hole, will, with the\nhelp of his tail, break all, unless you give him time to be wearied with\npulling, and so get him out by degrees, not pulling too hard.\n\nAnd to commute for your patient hearing this long direction, I shall\nnext tell you, how to make this Eel a most excellent dish of meat.\n\nFirst, wash him in water and salt; then pull off his skin below his vent\nor navel, and not much further: having done that, take out his guts as\nclean as you can, but wash him not: then give him three or four scotches\nwith a knife; and then put into his belly and those scotches, sweet\nherbs, an anchovy, and a little nutmeg grated or cut very small, and\nyour herbs and anchovies must also be cut very small; and mixt with good\nbutter and salt: having done this, then pull his skin over him, all but\nhis head, which you are to cut off, to the end you may tie his skin\nabout that part where his head grew, and it must be so tied as to keep\nall his moisture within his skin: and having done this, tie him with\ntape or packthread to a spit, and roast him leisurely; and baste him\nwith water and salt till his skin breaks, and then with butter; and\nhaving roasted him enough, let what was put into his belly, and what he\ndrips, be his sauce. S. F.\n\nWhen I go to dress an Eel thus, I wish he were as long and as big as\nthat which was caught in Peterborough river, in the year 1667; which was\na yard and three quarters long. If you will not believe me, then go and\nsee at one of the coffee-houses in King Street in Westminster.\n\nBut now let me tell you, that though the Eel, thus drest, be not only\nexcellent good, but more harmless than any other way, yet it is certain\nthat physicians account the Eel dangerous meat; I will advise you\ntherefore, as Solomon says of honey, \"Hast thou found it, eat no more\nthan is sufficient, lest thou surfeit, for it is not good to eat much\nhoney\". And let me add this, that the uncharitable Italian bids us \"give\nEels and no wine to our enemies\".\n\nAnd I will beg a little more of your attention, to tell you, that\nAldrovandus, and divers physicians, commend the Eel very much for\nmedicine, though not for meat. But let me tell you one observation, that\nthe Eel is never out of season; as Trouts, and most other fish, are at\nset times; at least, most Eels are not.\n\nI might here speak of many other fish, whose shape and nature are much\nlike the Eel, and frequent both the sea and fresh rivers; as, namely,\nthe Lamprel, the Lamprey, and the Lamperne: as also of the mighty\nConger, taken often in Severn, about Gloucester: and might also tell in\nwhat high esteem many of them are for the curiosity of their taste. But\nthese are not so proper to be talked of by me, because they make us\nanglers no sport; therefore I will let them alone, as the Jews do, to\nwhom they are forbidden by their law.\n\nAnd, scholar, there is also a FLOUNDER, a sea-fish which will wander\nvery far into fresh rivers, and there lose himself and dwell: and thrive\nto a hand's breadth, and almost twice so long: a fish without scales,\nand most excellent meat: and a fish that affords much sport to the\nangler, with any small worm, but especially a little bluish worm, gotten\nout of marsh-ground, or meadows, which should be well scoured. But this,\nthough it be most excellent meat, yet it wants scales, and is, as I told\nyou, therefore an abomination to the Jews.\n\nBut, scholar, there is a fish that they in Lancashire boast very much\nof, called a CHAR; taken there, and I think there only, in a mere called\nWinander Mere; a mere, says Camden, that is the largest in this nation,\nbeing ten miles in length, and some say as smooth in the bottom as if it\nwere paved with polished marble. This fish never exceeds fifteen or\nsixteen inches in length; and is spotted like a Trout: and has scarce a\nbone, but on the back. But this, though I do not know whether it make\nthe angler sport, yet I would have you take notice of it, because it is\na rarity, and of so high esteem with persons of great note.\n\nNor would I have you ignorant of a rare fish called a GUINIAD; of which\nI shall tell you what Camden and others speak. The river Dee, which runs\nby Chester, springs in Merionethshire; and, as it runs toward Chester,\nit runs through Pemble Mere, which is a large water: and it is observed,\nthat though the river Dee abounds with Salmon, and Pemble mere with the\nGuiniad, yet there is never any Salmon caught in the mere, nor a\nGuiniad in the river. And now my next observation shall be of the\nBarbel.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOf the Barbel\n\nChapter XIV\n\nPiscator, Venator, Milk-woman\n\nPiscator. The Barbel is so called, says Gesner, by reason of his barb or\nwattles at his mouth, which are under his nose or chaps. He is one of\nthose leather-mouthed fishes that I told you of, that does very seldom\nbreak his hold if he be once hooked: but he is so strong, that he will\noften break both rod and line, if he proves to be a big one.\n\nBut the Barbel, though he be of a fine shape, and looks big, yet he is\nnot accounted the best fish to eat, neither for his wholesomeness nor\nhis taste; but the male is reputed much better than the female, whose\nspawn is very hurtful, as I will presently declare to you.\n\nThey flock together like sheep, and are at the worst in April, about\nwhich time they spawn; but quickly grow to be in season. He is able to\nlive in the strongest swifts of the water: and, in summer, they love the\nshallowest and sharpest streams: and love to lurk under weeds, and to\nfeed on gravel, against a rising ground; and will root and dig in the\nsands with his nose like a hog, and there nests himself: yet sometimes\nhe retires to deep and swift bridges, or flood-gates, or weir; where he\nwill nest himself amongst piles, or in hollow places; and take such hold\nof moss or weeds, that be the water never so swift, it is not able to\nforce him from the place that he contends for. This is his constant\ncustom in summer, when he and most living creatures sport themselves in\nthe sun: but at the approach of winter, then he forsakes the swift\nstreams and shallow waters, and, by degrees, retires to those parts of\nthe river that are quiet and deeper; in which places, and I think about\nthat time he spawns; and, as I have formerly told you, with the help of\nthe melter, hides his spawn or eggs in holes, which they both dig in the\ngravel; and then they mutually labour to cover it with the same sand, to\nprevent it from being devoured by other fish.\n\nThere be such store of this fish in the river Danube, that Rondeletius\nsays they may, in some places of it, and in some months of the year, be\ntaken, by those who dwell near to the river, with their hands, eight or\nten load at a time. He says, they begin to be good in May, and that they\ncease to be so in August: but it is found to be otherwise in this\nnation. But thus far we agree with him, that the spawn of a Barbel, if\nit be not poison, as he says, yet that it is dangerous meat, and\nespecially in the month of May, which is so certain, that Gesner and\nGasius declare it had an ill effect upon them, even to the endangering\nof their lives.\n\nThe fish is of a fine cast and handsome shape, with small scales, which\nare placed after a most exact and curious manner, and, as I told you,\nmay be rather said not to be ill, than to be good meat, The Chub and he\nhave, I think, both lost part of their credit by ill cookery; they being\nreputed the worst, or coarsest, of fresh-water fish. But the Barbel\naffords an angler choice sport, being a lusty and a cunning fish; so\nlusty and cunning as to endanger the breaking of the angler's line, by\nrunning his head forcibly towards any covert, or hole, or bank, and then\nstriking at the line, to break it off, with his tail; as is observed by\nPlutarch, in his book De Industria Animalium: and also so cunning, to\nnibble and suck off your worm close to the hook, and yet avoid the\nletting the hook come into his mouth.\n\nThe Barbel is also curious for his baits; that is to say, that they be\nclean and sweet; that is to say, to have your worms well scoured, and\nnot kept in sour and musty moss, for he is a curious feeder: but at a\nwell-scoured lob-worm he will bite as boldly as at any bait, and\nspecially if, the night or two before you fish for him, you shall bait\nthe places where you intend to fish for him, with big worms cut into\npieces. And note, that none did ever over-bait the place, nor fish too\nearly or too late for a Barbel. And the Barbel will bite also at\ngenerals, which, not being too much scoured, but green, are a choice\nbait for him: and so is cheese, which is not to be too hard, but kept a\nday or two in a wet linen cloth, to make it tough; with this you may\nalso bait the water a day or two before you fish for the Barbel, and be\nmuch the likelier to catch store; and if the cheese were laid in\nclarified honey a short time before, as namely, an hour or two, you were\nstill the likelier to catch fish. Some have directed to cut the cheese\ninto thin pieces, and toast it; and then tie it on the hook with fine\nsilk. And some advise to fish for the Barbel with sheep's tallow and\nsoft cheese, beaten or worked into a paste; and that it is choicely good\nin August: and I believe it. Rut, doubtless, the lob-worm well scoured,\nand the gentle not too much scoured, and cheese ordered as I have\ndirected, are baits enough, and I think will serve in any month: though\nI shall commend any angler that tries conclusions, and is industrious to\nimprove the art. And now my honest scholar, the long shower and my\ntedious discourse are both ended together: and I shall give you but this\nobservation, that when you fish for a Barbel, your rod and line be both\nlong and of good strength; for, as I told you, you will find him a heavy\nand a dogged fish to be dealt withal; yet he seldom or never breaks his\nhold, if he be once strucken. And if you would know more of fishing for\nthe Umber or Barbel, get into favour with Dr. Sheldon, whose skill is\nabove others; and of that, the poor that dwell about him have a\ncomfortable experience.\n\nAnd now let's go and see what interest the Trouts will pay us, for\nletting our angle-rods lie so long and so quietly in the water for their\nuse. Come, scholar, which will you take up?\n\nVenator. Which you think fit, master.\n\nPiscator. Why, you shall take up that; for I am certain, by viewing the\nline, it has a fish at it. Look you, scholar! well done! Come, now take\nup the other too: well! now you may tell my brother Peter, at night,\nthat you have caught a leash of Trouts this day. And now let's move\ntowards our lodging, and drink a draught of red-cow's milk as we go; and\ngive pretty Maudlin and her honest mother a brace of Trouts for their\nsupper.\n\nVenator. Master, I like your motion very well: and I think it is now\nabout milking-time; and yonder they be at it.\n\nPiscator. God speed you, good woman! I thank you both for our songs last\nnight: I and my companion have had such fortune a-fishing this day, that\nwe resolve to give you and Maudlin a brace of Trouts for supper; and we\nwill now taste a draught of your red-cow's milk.\n\nMilk-woman. Marry, and that you shall with all my heart; and I will be\nstill your debtor when you come this way. If you will but speak the\nword, I will make you a good syllabub of new verjuice; and then you may\nsit down in a haycock, and eat it; and Maudlin shall sit by and sing you\nthe good old song of the \"Hunting in Chevy Chace,\" or some other good\nballad, for she hath store of them: Maudlin, my honest Maudlin, hath a\nnotable memory, and she thinks nothing too good for you, because you be\nsuch honest men.\n\nVenator. We thank you; and intend, once in a month to call upon you\nagain, and give you a little warning; and so, good-night Good-night,\nMaudlin. And now, good master, let's lose no time: but tell me somewhat\nmore of fishing; and if you please, first, something of fishing for a\nGudgeon.\n\nPiscator. I will, honest scholar.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nOf the Gudgeon, the Ruffe, and the Bleak\n\nChapter XV\n\nPiscator\n\nThe GUDGEON is reputed a fish of excellent taste, and to be very\nwholesome. He is of a fine shape, of a silver colour, and beautified\nwith black spots both on his body and tail. He breeds two or three times\nin the year; and always in summer. He is commended for a fish of\nexcellent nourishment. The Germans call him Groundling, by reason of his\nfeeding on the ground; and he there feasts himself, in sharp streams and\non the gravel. He and the Barbel both feed so: and do not hunt for flies\nat any time, as most other fishes do. He is an excellent fish to enter a\nyoung angler, being easy to be taken with a small red worm, on or very\nnear to the ground. He is one of those leather-mouthed fish that has his\nteeth in his throat, and will hardly be lost off from the hook if he be\nonce strucken.\n\nThey be usually scattered up and down every river in the shallows, in\nthe heat of summer: but in autumn, when the weeds begin to grow sour and\nrot, and the weather colder, then they gather together, and get into the\ndeeper parts of the water; and are to be fished for there, with your\nhook always touching the ground, if you fish for him with a float or\nwith a cork. But many will fish for the Gudgeon by hand, with a running\nline upon the ground, without a cork, as a Trout is fished for: and it\nis an excellent way, if you have a gentle rod, and as gentle a hand.\n\nThere is also another fish called a POPE, and by some a RUFFE; a fish\nthat is not known to be in some rivers: he is much like the Perch for\nhis shape, and taken to be better than the Perch, but will not grow to\nbe bigger than a Gudgeon. He is an excellent fish; no fish that swims is\nof a pleasanter taste. And he is also excellent to enter a young angler,\nfor he is a greedy biter: and they will usually lie, abundance of them\ntogether, in one reserved place, where the water is deep and runs\nquietly; and an easy angler, if he has found where they lie, may catch\nforty or fifty, or sometimes twice so many, at a standing.\n\nYou must fish for him with a small red worm; and if you bait the ground\nwith earth, it is excellent.\n\nThere is also a BLEAK or fresh-water Sprat; a fish that is ever in\nmotion, and therefore called by some the river-swallow; for just as you\nshall observe the swallow to be, most evenings in summer, ever in\nmotion, making short and quick turns when he flies to catch flies, in\nthe air, by which he lives; so does the Bleak at the top of the water.\nAusonius would have called him Bleak from his whitish colour: his back\nis of a pleasant sad or sea-water-green; his belly, white and shining as\nthe mountain snow. And doubtless, though we have the fortune, which\nvirtue has in poor people, to be neglected, yet the Bleak ought to be\nmuch valued, though we want Allamot salt, and the skill that the\nItalians have, to turn them into anchovies. This fish may be caught with\na Pater-noster line; that is, six or eight very small hooks tied along\nthe line, one half a foot above the other: I have seen five caught thus\nat one time; and the bait has been gentles, than which none is better.\n\nOr this fish may be caught with a fine small artificial fly, which is to\nbe of a very sad brown colour, and very small, and the hook answerable.\nThere is no better sport than whipping for Bleaks in a boat, or on a\nbank, in the swift water, in a summer's evening, with a hazel top about\nfive or six foot long, and a line twice the length of the rod. I have\nheard Sir Henry Wotton say, that there be many that in Italy will catch\nswallows so, or especially martins; this bird-angler standing on the top\nof a steeple to do it, and with the line twice so long as I have spoken\nof. And let me tell you, scholar, that both Martins and Bleaks be most\nexcellent meat.\n\nAnd let me tell you, that I have known a Heron, that did constantly\nfrequent one place, caught with a hook baited with a big minnow or a\nsmall gudgeon. The line and hook must be strong: and tied to some loose\nstaff, so big as she cannot fly away with it: a line not exceeding two\nyards.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe fourth day-continued\n\nIs of nothing, or of nothing worth\n\nChapter XVI\n\nPiscator, Venator, Peter, Coridon\n\nPiscator. My purpose was to give you some directions concerning ROACH\nand DACE, and some other inferior fish which make the angler excellent\nsport; for you know there is more pleasure in hunting the hare than in\neating her: but I will forbear, at this time, to say any more, because\nyou see yonder come our brother Peter and honest Coridon. But I will\npromise you, that as you and I fish and walk to-morrow towards London,\nif I have now forgotten anything that I can then remember, I will not\nkeep it from you.\n\nWell met, gentlemen; this is lucky that we meet so just together at this\nvery door, Come, hostess, where are you? is supper ready? Come, first\ngive us a drink; and be as quick as you can, for I believe we are all\nvery hungry. Well, brother Peter and Coridon, to you both! Come, drink:\nand then tell me what luck of fish: we two have caught but ten bouts, of\nwhich my scholar caught three. Look! here's eight; and a brace we gave\naway. We have had a most pleasant day for fishing and talking, and are\nreturned home both weary and hungry; and now meat and rest will be\npleasant.\n\nPeter. And Coridon and I have not had an unpleasant day: and yet I have\ncaught but five bouts; for, indeed, we went to a good honest ale-house,\nand there we played at shovel-board half the day; all the time that it\nrained we were there, and as merry as they that fished. And I am glad we\nare now with a dry house over our heads; for, hark! how it rains and\nblows. Come, hostess, give us more ale, and our supper with what haste\nyou may: and when we have supped, let us have your song, Piscator; and\nthe catch that your scholar promised us; or else, Coridon will be\ndogged.\n\nPiscator. Nay, I will not be worse than my word; you shall not want my\nsong, and I hope I shall be perfect in it.\n\nVenator. And I hope the like for my catch, which I have ready too: and\ntherefore let's go merrily to supper, and then have a gentle touch at\nsinging and drinking; but the last with moderation.\n\nCoridon. Come, now for your song; for we have fed heartily. Come,\nhostess, lay a few more sticks on the fire. And now, sing when you will.\n\nPiscator. Well then, here s to you, Coridon; and now for my song.\n\n    O the gallant Fisher's life,\n      It is the best of any;\n    'Tis full of pleasure, void of strife,\n      And 'tis beloved of many:\n        Other joys\n        Are but toys;\n        Only this\n        Lawful is;\n        For our skill\n        Breeds no ill,\n      But content and pleasure.\n\n    In a morning up we rise\n      Ere Aurora's peeping,\n    Drink a cup to wash our eyes.\n      Leave the sluggard sleeping;\n        Then we go\n        To and fro,\n        With our knacks\n        At our backs\n        To such streams\n        As the Thames\n      If we have the leisure.\n\n    When we please to walk abroad\n      For our recreation,\n    In the fields is our abode,\n      Full of delectation:\n        Where in a brook\n        With a hook\n        Or a lake\n        Fish we take:\n        There we sit\n        For a bit,\n      Till we fish entangle.\n\n    We have gentles in a horn,\n      We have paste and worms too\n    We can watch both night and morn,\n      Suffer rain and storms too;\n        None do here\n        Use to swear;\n        Oaths do fray\n        Fish away;\n        We sit still,\n        And watch our quill\n      Fishers must not wrangle.\n\n    If the sun's excessive heat\n      Make our bodies swelter,\n    To an osier hedge we get\n      For a friendly shelter\n        Where, in a dike,\n        Perch or Pike\n        Roach or Dace\n        We do chase Bleak or Gudgeon,\n        Without grudging\n      We are still contented.\n\n    Or we sometimes pass an hour\n      Under a green willow,\n    That defends us from a shower,\n      Making earth our pillow;\n        Where we may\n        Think and pray\n        Before death\n        Stops our breath.\n        Other joys\n        Are but toys,\n      And to be lamented.\n\n    Jo. Chalkhill.\n\nVenator. Well sung, master; this day's fortune and pleasure, and the\nnight's company and song, do all make me more and more in love with\nangling. Gentlemen, my master left me alone for an hour this day; and I\nverily believe he retired himself from talking with me that he might be\nso perfect in this song; was it not, master?\n\nPiscator. Yes indeed, for it is many years since I learned it; and\nhaving forgotten a part of it, I was forced to patch it up with the help\nof mine own invention, who am not excellent at poetry, as my part of the\nsong may testify; but of that I will say no more, lest you should think\nI mean, by discommending it, to beg your commendations of it. And\ntherefore, without replications, let's hear your catch, scholar; which I\nhope will be a good one, for you are both musical and have a good fancy\nto boot.\n\nVenator. Marry, and that you shall; and as freely as I would have my\nhonest master tell me some more secrets of fish and fishing, as we walk\nand fish towards London to-morrow. But, master, first let me tell you,\nthat very hour which you were absent from me, I sat down under a\nwillow-tree by the water-side, and considered what you had told me of\nthe owner of that pleasant meadow in which you then left me; that he had\na plentiful estate, and not a heart to think so; that he had at this\ntime many law-suits depending; and that they both damped his mirth, and\ntook up so much of his time and thoughts, that he himself had not\nleisure to take the sweet content that I, who pretended no title to\nthem, took in his fields: for I could there sit quietly; and looking on\nthe water, see some fishes sport themselves in the silver streams,\nothers leaping at flies of several shapes and colours; looking on the\nhills, I could behold them spotted with woods and groves; looking down\nthe meadows, could see, here a boy gathering lilies and lady-smocks, and\nthere a girl cropping culverkeys and cowslips, all to make garlands\nsuitable to this present month of May: these, and many other field\nflowers, so perfumed the air, that I thought that very meadow like that\nfield in Sicily of which Diodorus speaks, where the perfumes arising\nfrom the place make all dogs that hunt in it to fall off, and to lose\ntheir hottest scent I say, as I thus sat, joying in my own happy\ncondition, and pitying this poor rich man that owned this and many other\npleasant groves and meadows about me, I did thankfully remember what my\nSaviour said, that the meek possess the earth; or rather, they enjoy\nwhat the others possess, and enjoy not; for anglers and meek\nquiet-spirited men are free from those high, those restless thoughts,\nwhich corrode the sweets of life; and they, and they only, can say, as\nthe poet has happily express it,\n\n    Hail! blest estate of lowliness;\n      Happy enjoyments of such minds\n    As, rich in self-contentedness,\n      Can, like the reeds, in roughest winds,\n    By yielding make that blow but small\n    At which proud oaks and cedars fall.\n\nThere came also into my mind at that time certain verses in praise of a\nmean estate and humble mind: they were written by Phineas Fletcher, an\nexcellent divine, and an excellent angler; and the author of excellent\nPiscatory Eclogues, in which you shall see the picture of this good\nman's mind: and I wish mine to be like it.\n\n      No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright;\n      No begging wants his middle fortune bite:\n    But sweet content exiles both misery and spite.\n\n      His certain life, that never can deceive him,\n        Is full of thousand sweets and rich content\n      The smooth-leav'd beeches in the field receive him,\n        With coolest shade, till noon-tide's heat be spent.\n      His life is neither tost in boisterous, seas,\n      Or the vexatious world, or lost in slothful ease;\n    Please and full blest he lives when he his God can please.\n\n      His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps,\n        While by his side his faithful spouse teas place\n      His little son into his bosom creeps,\n        The lively picture of his father's face.\n      His humble house or poor state ne'er torment him\n      Less he could like, if less his God had lent him;\n    And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content him,\n\nGentlemen, these were a part of the thoughts that then possessed me. And\nI there made a conversion of a piece of an old catch, and added more to\nit, fitting them to be sung by us anglers. Come, Master, you can sing\nwell: you must sing a part of it, as it is in this paper.\n\n    Man's life is but vain, for 'tis subject to pain,\n      And sorrow, and short as a bubble;\n    'Tis a hodge-podge of business, and money, and care,\n      And care, and money, and trouble.\n\n    But we'll take no care when the weather proves fair;\n      Nor will we vex now though it rain;\n    We'll banish all sorrow, and sing till to-morrow,\n      And angle, and angle again.\n\nPeter. I marry, Sir, this is musick indeed; this has cheer'd my heart,\nand made me remember six verses in praise of musick, which I will speak\nto you instantly.\n\n    Musick! miraculous rhetorick, thou speak'st sense\n    Without a tongue, excelling eloquence;\n    With what ease might thy errors be excus'd,\n    Wert thou as truly lov'd as th' art abus'd!\n    But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee,\n    I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee.\n\nVenator. And the repetition of these last verses of musick has called to\nmy memory what Mr. Edmund Waller, a lover of the angle, says of love and\nmusick.\n\n    Whilst I listen to thy voice,\n      Chloris! I feel my heart decay\n        That powerful voice\n      Calls my fleeting soul away:\n    Oh! suppress that magic sound,\n    Which destroys without a wound.\n\n    Peace, Chloris! peace, or singing die,\n      That together you and I\n        To heaven may go;\n        For all we know\n    Of what the blessed do above\n    Is, that they sing, and that they love.\n\nPiscator. Well remembered, brother Peter; these verses came seasonably,\nand we thank you heartily. Come, we will all join together, my host and\nall, and sing my scholar's catch over again; and then each man drink the\ntother cup, and to bed; and thank God we have a dry house over our\nheads.\n\nPiscator. Well, now, good-night to everybody. Peter. And so say I.\n\nVenator. And so say I.\n\nCoridon. Good-night to you all; and I thank you.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day.\n\nPiscator. Good-morrow, brother Peter, and the like to you, honest\nCoridon.\n\nCome, my hostess says there is seven shillings to pay: let's each man\ndrink a pot for his morning's draught, and lay down his two shillings,\nso that my hostess may not have occasion to repent herself of being so\ndiligent, and using us so kindly.\n\nPeter. The motion is liked by everybody, and so, hostess, here's your\nmoney: we anglers are all beholden to you; it will not be long ere I'll\nsee you again; and now, brother Piscator, I wish you, and my brother\nyour scholar, a fair day and good fortune. Come, Coridon, this is our\nway.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day-continued\n\nOf Roack and Dace\n\nChapter XVII\n\nVenator and Piscator\n\nVenator. Good master, as we go now towards London, be still so courteous\nas to give me more instructions; for I have several boxes in my memory,\nin which I will keep them all very safe, there shall not one of them be\nlost.\n\nPiscator. Well, scholar, that I will: and I will hide nothing from you\nthat I can remember, and can think may help you forward towards a\nperfection in this art. And because we have so much time, and I have\nsaid so little of Roach and Dace, I will give you some directions\nconcerning them.\n\nSome say the Roach is so called from rutilus, which they say signifies\nred fins. He is a fish of no great reputation for his dainty taste; and\nhis spawn is accounted much better than any other part of him. And you\nmay take notice, that as the Carp is accounted the water-fox, for his\ncunning; so the Roach is accounted the water-sheep, for his simplicity\nor foolishness. It is noted, that the Roach and Dace recover strength,\nand grow in season in a fortnight after spawning; the Barbel and Chub in\na month; the Trout in four months; and the Salmon in the like time, if\nhe gets into the sea, and after into fresh water.\n\nRoaches be accounted much better in the river than in a pond, though\nponds usually breed the biggest. But there is a kind of bastard small\nRoach, that breeds in ponds, with a very forked tail, and of a very\nsmall size; which some say is bred by the Bream and right Roach; and\nsome ponds are stored with these beyond belief; and knowing-men, that\nknow their difference, call them Ruds: they differ from the true Roach,\nas much as a Herring from a Pilchard. And these bastard breed of Roach\nare now scattered in many rivers: but I think not in the Thames, which I\nbelieve affords the largest and fattest in this nation, especially below\nLondon Bridge. The Roach is a leather-mouthed fish, and has a kind of\nsaw-like teeth in his throat. And lastly, let me tell you, the Roach\nmakes an angler excellent sport, especially the great Roaches about\nLondon, where I think there be the best Roach-anglers. And I think the\nbest Trout-anglers be in Derbyshire; for the waters there are clear to\nan extremity.\n\nNext, let me tell you, you shall fish for this Roach in Winter, with\npaste or gentles; in April, with worms or cadis; in the very hot months,\nwith little white snails; or with flies under water, for he seldom takes\nthem at the top, though the Dace will. In many of the hot months,\nRoaches may also be caught thus: take a May-fly, or ant-fly, sink him\nwith a little lead to the bottom, near to the piles or posts of a\nbridge, or near to any posts of a weir, I mean any deep place where\nRoaches lie quietly, and then pull your fly up very leisurely, and\nusually a Roach will follow your bait up to the very top of the water,\nand gaze on it there, and run at it, and take it, lest the fly should\nfly away from him.\n\nI have seen this done at Windsor and Henley Bridge, and great store of\nRoach taken; and sometimes, a Dace or Chub. And in August you may fish\nfor them with a paste made only of the crumbs of bread, which should be\nof pure fine manchet; and that paste must be so tempered betwixt your\nhands till it be both soft and tough too: a very little water, and time,\nand labour, and clean hands, will make it a most excellent paste. But\nwhen you fish with it, you must have a small hook, a quick eye, and a\nnimble hand, or the bait is lost, and the fish too; if one may lose that\nwhich he never had. With this paste you may, as I said, take both the\nRoach and the Dace or Dare; for they be much of a kind, in manner of\nfeeding, cunning, goodness, and usually in size. And therefore take this\ngeneral direction, for some other baits which may concern you to take\nnotice of: they will bite almost at any fly, but especially at\nant-flies; concerning which take this direction, for it is very good.\n\nTake the blackish ant-fly out of the mole-hill or ant-hill, in which\nplace you shall find them in the month of June; or if that be too early\nin the year, then, doubtless, you may find them in July, August, and\nmost of September. Gather them alive, with both their wings: and then\nput them into a glass that will hold a quart or a pottle; but first put\ninto the glass a handful, or more, of the moist earth out of which you\ngather them, and as much of the roots of the grass of the said hillock;\nand then put in the flies gently, that they lose not their wings: lay a\nclod of earth over it; and then so many as are put into the glass,\nwithout bruising, will live there a month or more, and be always in\nreadiness for you to fish with: but if you would have them keep longer,\nthen get any great earthen pot, or barrel of three or four gallons,\nwhich is better, then wash your barrel with water and honey; and having\nput into it a quantity of earth and grass roots, then put in your flies,\nand cover it, and they will live a quarter of a year. These, in any\nstream and clear water, are a deadly bait for Roach or Dace, or for a\nChub: and your rule is to fish not less than a handful from the bottom.\n\nI shall next tell you a winter-bait for a Roach, a Dace, or Chub; and it\nis choicely good. About All-hallantide, and so till frost comes, when\nyou see men ploughing up heath ground, or sandy ground, or greenswards,\nthen follow the plough, and you shall find a white worm, as big as two\nmaggots, and it hath a red head: you may observe in what ground most\nare, for there the crows will be very watchful and follow the plough\nvery close: it is all soft, and full of whitish guts; a worm that is, in\nNorfolk and some other counties, called a grub; and is bred of the spawn\nor eggs of a beetle, which she leaves in holes that she digs in the\nground under cow or horse dung, and there rests all winter, and in March\nor April comes to be first a red and then a black beetle. Gather a\nthousand or two of these, and put them, with a peck or two of their own\nearth, into some tub or firkin, and cover and keep them so warm that the\nfrost or cold air, or winds, kill them not: these you may keep all\nwinter, and kill fish with them at any time; and if you put some of them\ninto a little earth and honey, a day before you use them, you will find\nthem an excellent bait for Bream, Carp, or indeed for almost any fish.\n\nAnd after this manner you may also keep gentles all winter; which are a\ngood bait then, and much the better for being lively and tough. Or you\nmay breed and keep gentles thus: take a piece of beast's liver, and,\nwith a cross stick, hang it in some corner, over a pot or barrel half\nfull of dry clay; and as the gentles grow big, they will fall into the\nbarrel and scour themselves, and be always ready for use whensoever you\nincline to fish; and these gentles may be thus created till after\nMichaelmas. But if you desire to keep gentles to fish with all the year,\nthen get a dead cat, or a kite, and let it be flyblown; and when the\ngentles begin to be alive and to stir, then bury it and them in soft\nmoist earth, but as free from frost as you can; and these you may dig up\nat any time when you intend to use them: these will last till March, and\nabout that time turn to be flies.\n\nBut if you be nice to foul your fingers, which good anglers seldom are,\nthen take this bait: get a handful of well-made malt, and put it into a\ndish of water; and then wash and rub it betwixt your hands till you\nmake it clean, and as free from husks as you can; then put that water\nfrom it, and put a small quantity of fresh water to it, and set it in\nsomething that is fit for that purpose, over the fire, where it is not\nto boil apace, but leisurely and very softly, until it become somewhat\nsoft, which you may try by feeling it betwixt your finger and thumb; and\nwhen it is soft, then put your water from it: and then take a sharp\nknife, and turning the sprout end of the corn upward with the point of\nyour knife, take the back part of the husk off from it, and yet leaving\na kind of inward husk on the corn, or else it is marr'd and then cut off\nthat sprouted end, I mean a little of it, that the white may appear; and\nso pull off the husk on the cloven side, as I directed you; and then\ncutting off a very little of the other end, that so your hook may enter;\nand if your hook be small and good, you will find this to be a very\nchoice bait, either for winter or summer, you sometimes casting a little\nof it into the place where your float swims.\n\nAnd to take the Roach and Dace, a good bait is the young brood of wasps\nor bees, if you dip their heads in blood; especially good for Bream, if\nthey be baked, or hardened in their husks in an oven, after the bread is\ntaken out of it; or hardened on a fire-shovel: and so also is the thick\nblood of sheep, being half dried on a trencher, that so you may cut into\nsuch pieces as may best fit the size of your hook; and a little salt\nkeeps it from growing black, and makes it not the worse, but better:\nthis is taken to be a choice bait, if rightly ordered.\n\nThere be several oils of a strong smell that I have been told of, and to\nbe excellent to tempt fish to bite, of which I could say much. But I\nremember I once carried a small bottle from Sir George Hastings to Sir\nHenry Wotton, they were both chemical men, as a great present: it was\nsent, and receiv'd, and us'd, with great confidence; and yet, upon\ninquiry, I found it did not answer the expectation of Sir Henry; which,\nwith the help of this and other circumstances, makes me have little\nbelief in such things as many men talk of. Not but that I think that\nfishes both smell and hear, as I have express in my former discourse:\nbut there is a mysterious knack, which though it be much easier than the\nphilosopher's stone, yet is not attainable by common capacities, or else\nlies locked up in the brain or breast of some chemical man, that, like\nthe Rosicrucians, will not yet reveal it. But let me nevertheless tell\nyou, that camphire, put with moss into your worm-bag with your worms,\nmakes them, if many anglers be not very much mistaken, a tempting bait,\nand the angler more fortunate. But I stepped by chance into this\ndiscourse of oils, and fishes smelling; and though there might be more\nsaid, both of it and of baits for Roach and Dace and other float-fish,\nyet I will forbear it at this time, and tell you, in the next place,\nhow you are to prepare your tackling: concerning which, I will, for\nsport sake, give you an old rhyme out of an old fish book; which will\nprove a part, and but a part, of what you are to provide.\n\n    My rod and my line, my float and my lead,\n      My hook and my plummet, my whetstone and knife,\n    My basket, my baits, both living and dead,\n      My net, and my meat, for that is the chief:\n    Then I must have thread, and hairs green and small,\n    With mine angling purse: and so you have all.\n\nBut you must have all these tackling, and twice so many more, with\nwhich, if you mean to be a fisher, you must store yourself; and to that\npurpose I will go with you, either to Mr. Margrave, who dwells amongst\nthe book-sellers in St. Paul's Church-yard, or to Mr. John Stubs, near\nto the Swan in Goldinglane: they be both honest men, and will fit an\nangler with what tackling he lacks.\n\nVenator. Then, good master, let it be at--for he is nearest to my\ndwelling. And I pray let's meet there the ninth of May next, about two\nof the clock; and I'll want nothing that a fisher should be furnished\nwith.\n\nPiscator. Well, and I'll not fail you, God willing, at the time and\nplace appointed.\n\nVenator. I thank you, good master, and I will not fail you. And, good\nmaster, tell me what BAITS more you remember; for it will not now be\nlong ere we shall be at Tottenham-High-Cross; and when we come thither I\nwill make you some requital of your pains, by repeating as choice a copy\nof Verses as any we have heard since we met together; and that is a\nproud word, for we have heard very good ones.\n\nPiscator Well, scholar, and I shall be then right glad to hear them. And\nI will, as we walk, tell you whatsoever comes in my mind, that I think\nmay be worth your hearing. You may make another choice bait thus: take a\nhandful or two of the best and biggest wheat you can get; boil it in a\nlittle milk, like as frumity is boiled; boil it so till it be soft; and\nthen fry it, very leisurely, with honey, and a little beaten saffron\ndissolved in milk; and you will find this a choice bait, and good, I\nthink, for any fish, especially for Roach, Dace, Chub, or Grayling: I\nknow not but that it may be as good for a river Carp, and especially if\nthe ground be a little baited with it.\n\nAnd you may also note, that the SPAWN of most fish is a very tempting\nbait, being a little hardened on a warm tile and cut into fit pieces.\nNay, mulberries, and those black-berries which grow upon briars, be good\nbaits for Chubs or Carps: with these many have been taken in ponds, and\nin some rivers where such trees have grown near the water, and the fruit\ncustomarily drops into it. And there be a hundred other baits, more than\ncan be well named, which, by constant baiting the water, will become a\ntempting bait for any fish in it.\n\nYou are also to know, that there be divers kinds of CADIS, or\nCase-worms, that are to be found in this nation, in several distinct\ncounties, in several little brooks that relate to bigger rivers; as\nnamely, one cadis called a piper, whose husk, or case, is a piece of\nreed about an inch long, or longer, and as big about as the compass of a\ntwo-pence. These worms being kept three or four days in a woollen bag,\nwith sand at the bottom of it, and the bag wet once a day, will in three\nor four days turn to be yellow; and these be a choice bait for the Chub\nor Chavender, or indeed for any great fish, for it is a large bait.\n\nThere is also a lesser cadis-worm, called a Cockspur, being in fashion\nlike the spur of a cock, sharp at one end: and the case, or house, in\nwhich this dwells, is made of small husks, and gravel, and slime, most\ncuriously made of these, even so as to be wondered at, but not to be\nmade by man, no more than a king-fisher's nest can, which is made of\nlittle fishes' bones, and have such a geometrical interweaving and\nconnection as the like is not to be done by the art of man. This kind of\ncadis is a choice bait for any float-fish; it is much less than the\npiper-cadis, and to be so ordered: and these may be so preserved, ten,\nfifteen, or twenty days, or it may be longer.\n\nThere is also another cadis, called by some a Straw-worm, and by some a\nRuff-coat, whose house, or case, is made of little pieces of bents, and\nrushes, and straws, and water-weeds, and I know not what; which are so\nknit together with condensed slime, that they stick about her husk or\ncase, not unlike the bristles of a hedge-hog. These three cadises are\ncommonly taken in the beginning of summer; and are good, indeed, to take\nany kind of fish, with float or otherwise. I might tell you of many\nmore, which as they do early, so those have their time also of turning\nto be flies in later summer; but I might lose myself, and tire you, by\nsuch a discourse: I shall therefore but remember you, that to know\nthese, and their several kinds, and to what flies every particular cadis\nturns, and then how to use them, first as they be cadis, and after as\nthey be flies, is an art, and an art that every one that professes to be\nan angler has not leisure to search after, and, if he had, is not\ncapable of learning.\n\nI'll tell you, scholar; several countries have several kinds of cadises,\nthat indeed differ as much as dogs do; that is to say, as much as a very\ncur and a greyhound do. These be usually bred in the very little rills,\nor ditches, that run into bigger rivers; and I think a more proper bait\nfor those very rivers than any other. I know not how, or of what, this\ncadis receives life, or what coloured fly it turns to; but doubtless\nthey are the death of many Trouts: and this is one killing way:\n\nTake one, or more if need be, of these large yellow cadis: pull off his\nhead, and with it pull out his black gut; put the body, as little\nbruised as is possible, on a very little hook, armed on with a red hair,\nwhich will shew like the cadis-head; and a very little thin lead, so put\nupon the shank of the hook that it may sink presently. Throw this bait,\nthus ordered, which will look very yellow, into any great still hole\nwhere a Trout is, and he will presently venture his life for it, it is\nnot to be doubted, if you be not espied; and that the bait first touch\nthe water before the line. And this will do best in the deepest stillest\nwater.\n\nNext, let me tell you, I have been much pleased to walk quietly by a\nbrook, with a little stick in my hand, with which I might easily take\nthese, and consider the curiosity of their composure: and if you should\never like to do so, then note, that your stick must be a little hazel,\nor willow, cleft, or have a nick at one end of it, by which means you\nmay, with ease, take many of them in that nick out of the water, before\nyou have any occasion to use them. These, my honest scholar, are some\nobservations, told to you as they now come suddenly into my memory, of\nwhich you may make some use: but for the practical part, it is that that\nmakes an angler: it is diligence, and observation, and practice, and an\nambition to be the best in the art, that must do it. I will tell you,\nscholar, I once heard one say, \"I envy not him that eats better meat\nthan I do; nor him that is richer, or that wears better clothes than I\ndo: I envy nobody but him, and him only, that catches more fish than I\ndo\". And such a man is like to prove an angler; and this noble\nemulation I wish to you, and all young anglers.\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day-continued\n\nOf the Minnow, or Penk; Loach, Bull-Head, or Miller's-Thumb: and the\nStickle-bag\n\nChapter XVIII\n\nPiscator and Venator\n\nPiscator. There be also three or four other little fish that I had\nalmost forgot; that are all without scales; and may for excellency of\nmeat, be compared to any fish of greatest value and largest size. They\nbe usually full of eggs or spawn, all the months of summer; for they\nbreed often, as 'tis observed mice and many of the smaller four-footed\ncreatures of the earth do and as those, so these come quickly to their\nfull growth and perfection. And it is needful that they breed both often\nand numerously; for they be, besides other accidents of ruin, both a\nprey and baits for other fish. And first I shall tell you of the Minnow\nor Penk.\n\nThe MINNOW hath, when he is in perfect season, and not sick, which is\nonly presently after spawning, a kind of dappled or waved colour, like\nto a panther, on its sides, inclining to a greenish or sky-colour; his\nbelly being milk white; and his back almost black or blackish. He is a\nsharp biter at a small worm, and in hot weather makes excellent sport\nfor young anglers, or boys, or women that love that recreation. And in\nthe spring they make of them excellent Minnow-tansies; for being washed\nwell in salt, and their heads and tails cut off, and their guts taken\nout, and not washed after, they prove excellent for that use; that is,\nbeing fried with yolk of eggs, the flowers of cowslips and of primroses,\nand a little tansy; thus used they make a dainty dish of meat.\n\nThe LOACH is, as I told you, a most dainty fish: he breeds and feeds in\nlittle and clear swift brooks or rills, and lives there upon the gravel,\nand in the sharpest streams: he grows not to be above a finger long, and\nno thicker than is suitable to that length. The Loach is not unlike the\nshape of the Eel: he has a beard or wattles like a barbel. He has two\nfins at his sides, four at his belly, and one at his tail; he is dappled\nwith many black or brown spots; his mouth is barbel-like under his nose.\nThis fish is usually full of eggs or spawn; and is by Gesner, and other\nlearned physicians, commended for great nourishment, and to be very\ngrateful both to the palate and stomach of sick persons. He is to be\nfished for with a very small worm, at the bottom; for he very seldom, or\nnever, rises above the gravel, on which I told you he usually gets his\nliving.\n\nThe MILLER'S-THUMB, or BULL-HEAD, is a fish of no pleasing shape. He is\nby Gesner compared to the Sea-toad-fish, for his similitude and shape.\nIt has a head big and flat, much greater than suitable to his body; a\nmouth very wide, and usually gaping; he is without teeth, but his lips\nare very rough, much like to a file. He hath two fins near to his gills,\nwhich be roundish or crested; two fins also under the belly; two on the\nback; one below the vent; and the fin of his tail is round. Nature hath\npainted the body of this fish with whitish, blackish, brownish spots.\nThey be usually full of eggs or spawn all the summer, I mean the\nfemales; and those eggs swell their vents almost into the form of a dug.\nThey begin to spawn about April, and, as I told you, spawn several\nmonths in the summer. And in the winter, the Minnow, and Loach, and\nBull-head dwell in the mud, as the Eel doth; or we know not where, no\nmore than we know where the cuckoo and swallow, and other half-year\nbirds, which first appear to us in April, spend their six cold, winter,\nmelancholy months. This BULL-HEAD does usually dwell, and hide himself,\nin holes, or amongst stones in clear water; and in very hot days will\nlie a long time very still, and sun himself, and will be easy to be seen\nupon any flat stone, or any gravel; at which time he will suffer an\nangler to put a hook, baited with a small worm, very near unto his very\nmouth: and he never refuses to bite, nor indeed to be caught with the\nworst of anglers. Matthiolus commends him much more for his taste and\nnourishment, than for his shape or beauty.\n\nThere is also a little fish called a STICKLEBAG, a fish without scales,\nbut hath his body fenced with several prickles. I know not where he\ndwells in winter; nor what he is good for in summer, but only to make\nsport for boys and women-anglers, and to feed other fish that be fish of\nprey, as Trouts in particular, who will bite at him as at a Penk; and\nbetter, if your hook be rightly baited with him, for he may be so baited\nas, his tail turning like the sail of a wind-mill, will make him turn\nmore quick than any Penk or Minnow can. For note, that the nimble\nturning of that, or the Minnow is the perfection of Minnow-fishing. To\nwhich end, if you put your hook into his mouth, and out at his tail; and\nthen, having first tied him with white thread a little above his tail,\nand placed him after such a manner on your hook as he is like to turn\nthen sew up his mouth to your line, and he is like to turn quick, and\ntempt any Trout: but if he does not turn quick, then turn his tail, a\nlittle more or less, towards the inner part, or towards the side of the\nhook; or put the Minnow or Sticklebag a little more crooked or more\nstraight on your hook, until it will turn both true and fast; and then\ndoubt not but to tempt any great Trout that lies in a swift stream. And\nthe Loach that I told you of will do the like: no bait is more tempting,\nprovided the Loach be not too big.\n\nAnd now, scholar, with the help of this fine morning, and your patient\nattention, I have said all that my present memory will afford me,\nconcerning most of the several fish that are usually fished for in fresh\nwaters.\n\nVenator. But, master, you have by your former civility made me hope that\nyou will make good your promise, and say something of the several rivers\nthat be of most note in this nation; and also of fish-ponds, and the\nordering of them: and do it I pray, good master; for I love any\ndiscourse of rivers, and fish and fishing; the time spent in such\ndiscourse passes away very pleasantly.\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day-continued\n\nOf Rivers, and some Observations of Fish\n\nChapter XIX\n\nPiscator\n\nWELL, scholar, since the ways and weather do both favour us, and that we\nyet see not Tottenham-Cross, you shall see my willingness to satisfy\nyour desire. And, first, for the rivers of this nation: there be, as you\nmay note out of Dr. Heylin's Geography and others, in number three\nhundred and twenty-five; but those of chiefest note he reckons and\ndescribes as followeth.\n\nThe chief is THAMISIS, compounded of two rivers, Thame and Isis; whereof\nthe former, rising somewhat beyond Thame in Buckinghamshire, and the\nlatter near Cirencester in Gloucestershire, meet together about\nDorchester in Oxfordshire; the issue of which happy conjunction is\nThamisis, or Thames; hence it flieth betwixt Berks, Buckinghamshire,\nMiddlesex, Surrey, Kent and Essex: and so weddeth itself to the Kentish\nMedway, in the very jaws of the ocean. This glorious river feeleth the\nviolence and benefit of the sea more than any river in Europe; ebbing\nand flowing, twice a day, more than sixty miles; about whose banks are\nso many fair towns and princely palaces, that a German poet thus truly\nspake:\n\n           Tot campos, &c.\n\n    We saw so many woods and princely bowers,\n    Sweet fields, brave palaces, and stately towers;\n    So many gardens drest with curious care,\n    That Thames with royal Tiber may compare.\n\n2. The second river of note is SABRINA or SEVERN: it hath its beginning\nin Plinilimmon-hill, in Montgomeryshire; and his end seven miles from\nBristol; washing, in the mean space, the walls of Shrewsbury, Worcester,\nand Gloucester, and divers other places and palaces of note.\n\n3. TRENT, so called from thirty kind of fishes that are found in it, or\nfor that it receiveth thirty lesser rivers; who having his fountain in\nStaffordshire, and gliding through the counties of Nottingham, Lincoln,\nLeicester, and York, augmenteth the turbulent current of Humber, the\nmost violent stream of all the isle. This Humber is not, to say truth, a\ndistinct river having a spring-head of his own, but it is rather the\nmouth or aestuarium of divers rivers here confluent and meeting\ntogether, namely, your Derwent, and especially of Ouse and Trent; and,\nas the Danow, having received into its channel the river Dravus, Savus,\nTibiscus, and divers others, changeth his name into this of Humberabus,\nas the old geographers call it.\n\n4. MEDWAY, a Kentish river, famous for harbouring the royal navy.\n\n5. TWEED, the north-east bound of England; on whose northern banks is\nseated the strong and impregnable town of Berwick.\n\n6. TYNE, famous for Newcastle, and her inexhaustible coal-pits. These,\nand the rest of principal note, are thus comprehended in one of Mr.\nDrayton's Sonnets:\n\n    Our floods' queen, Thames, for ships and swans is crown'd\n      And stately Severn for her shore is prais'd;\n    The crystal Trent, for fords and fish renown'd;\n      And Avon's fame to Albion's cliffs is rais'd.\n\n    Carlegion Chester vaunts her holy Dee;\n      York many wonders of her Ouse can tell;\n    The Peak, her Dove, whose banks so fertile be,\n      And Kent will say her Medway doth excel:\n\n    Cotswold commends her Isis to the Tame:\n      Our northern borders boast of Tweed's fair flood;\n    Our Western parts extol their Willy's fame,\n      And the old Lea brags of the Danish blood.\n\nThese observations are out of learned Dr. Heylin, and my old deceased\nfriend, Michael Drayton; and because you say you love such discourses as\nthese, of rivers, and fish, and fishing, I love you the better, and love\nthe more to impart them to you. Nevertheless, scholar, if I should begin\nbut to name the several sorts of strange fish that are usually taken in\nmany of those rivers that run into the sea, I might beget wonder in you,\nor unbelief, or both: and yet I will venture to tell you a real truth\nconcerning one lately dissected by Dr. Wharton, a man of great learning\nand experience, and of equal freedom to communicate it; one that loves\nme and my art; one to whom I have been beholden for many of the choicest\nobservations that I have imparted to you. This good man, that dares do\nanything rather than tell an untruth, did, I say, tell me he had lately\ndissected one strange fish, and he thus described it to me:\n\n\"This fish was almost a yard broad, and twice that length; his mouth\nwide enough to receive, or take into it, the head of a man; his stomach,\nseven or eight inches broad. He is of a slow motion; and usually lies or\nlurks close in the mud; and has a moveable string on his head, about a\nspan or near unto a quarter of a yard long; by the moving of which,\nwhich is his natural bait, when he lies close and unseen in the mud, he\ndraws other smaller fish so close to him, that he can suck them into his\nmouth, and so devours and digests them.\"\n\nAnd, scholar, do not wonder at this; for besides the credit of the\nrelator, you are to note, many of these, and fishes which are of the\nlike and more unusual shapes, are very often taken on the mouths of our\nsea rivers, and on the sea shore. And this will be no wonder to any that\nhave travelled Egypt; where, 'tis known, the famous river Nilus does not\nonly breed fishes that yet want names, but, by the overflowing of that\nriver, and the help of the sun's heat on the fat slime which the river\nleaves on the banks when it falls back into its natural channel, such\nstrange fish and beasts are also bred, that no man can give a name to;\nas Grotius in his Sopham, and others, have observed.\n\nBut whither am I strayed in this discourse. I will end it by telling\nyou, that at the mouth of some of these rivers of ours, Herrings are so\nplentiful, as namely, near to Yarmouth in Norfolk, and in the west\ncountry Pilchers so very plentiful, as you will wonder to read what our\nlearned Camden relates of them in his Britannia.\n\nWell, scholar, I will stop here, and tell you what by reading and\nconference I have observed concerning fish-ponds.\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day-continued\n\nOf Fish-Ponds\n\nChapter XX\n\nPiscator\n\nDOCTOR LEBAULT, the learned Frenchman, in his large discourse of Maison\nRustique, gives this direction for making of fish-ponds. I shall refer\nyou to him, to read it at large: but I think I shall contract it, and\nyet make it as useful.\n\nHe adviseth, that when you have drained the ground, and made the earth\nfirm where the head of the pond must be, that you must then, in that\nplace, drive in two or three rows of oak or elm piles, which should be\nscorched in the fire, or half-burnt, before they be driven into the\nearth; for being thus used, it preserves them much longer from rotting.\nAnd having done so, lay faggots or bavins of smaller wood betwixt them:\nand then, earth betwixt and above them: and then, having first very well\nrammed them and the earth, use another pile in like manner as the first\nwere: and note, that the second pile is to be of or about the height\nthat you intend to make your sluice or floodgate, or the vent that you\nintend shall convey the overflowings of your pond in any flood that\nshall endanger the breaking of your pond-dam.\n\nThen he advises, that you plant willows or owlers, about it, or both:\nand then cast in bavins, in some places not far from the side, and in\nthe most sandy places, for fish both to spawn upon, and to defend them\nand the young fry from the many fish, and also from vermin, that lie at\nwatch to destroy them, especially the spawn of the Carp and Tench, when\n'tis left to the mercy of ducks or vermin.\n\nHe, and Dubravius, and all others advise, that you make choice of such a\nplace for your pond, that it may be refreshed with a little rill, or\nwith rain water, running or falling into it; by which fish are more\ninclined both to breed, and are also refreshed and fed the better, and\ndo prove to be of a much sweeter and more pleasant taste.\n\nTo which end it is observed, that such pools as be large and have most\ngravel, and shallows where fish may sport themselves, do afford fish of\nthe purest taste. And note, that in all pools it is best for fish to\nhave some retiring place; as namely, hollow banks, or shelves, or roots\nof trees, to keep them from danger, and, when they think fit, from the\nextreme heat of summer; as also from the extremity of cold in winter.\nAnd note, that if many trees be growing about your pond, the leaves\nthereof falling into the water, make it nauseous to the fish, and the\nfish to be so to the eater of it.\n\n'Tis noted, that the Tench and Eel love mud; and the Carp loves gravelly\nground, and in the hot months to feed on grass. You are to cleanse your\npond, if you intend either profit or pleasure, once every three or four\nyears, especially some ponds, and then let it dry six or twelve months,\nboth to kill the water-weeds, as water-lilies, candocks, reate, and\nbulrushes, that breed there; and also that as these die for want of\nwater, so grass may grow in the pond's bottom, which Carps will eat\ngreedily in all the hot months, if the pond be clean. The letting your\npond dry and sowing oats in the bottom is also good, for the fish feed\nthe faster; and being sometimes let dry, you may observe what kind of\nfish either increases or thrives best in that water; for they differ\nmuch, both in their breeding and feeding.\n\nLebault also advises, that if your ponds be not very large and roomy,\nthat you often feed your fish, by throwing into them chippings of bread,\ncurds, grains, or the entrails of chickens or of any fowl or beast that\nyou kill to feed yourselves; for these afford fish a great relief. He\nsays, that frogs and ducks do much harm, and devour both the spawn and\nthe young fry of all fish, especially of the Carp; and I have, besides\nexperience, many testimonies of it. But Lebault allows water-frogs to be\ngood meat, especially in some months, if they be fat: but you are to\nnote, that he is a Frenchman; and we English will hardly believe him,\nthough we know frogs are usually eaten in his country: however he\nadvises to destroy them and king-fishers out of your ponds. And he\nadvises not to suffer much shooting at wild fowl; for that, he says,\naffrightens, and harms, and destroys the fish.\n\nNote, that Carps and Tench thrive and breed best when no other fish is\nput with them into the same pond; for all other fish devour their spawn,\nor at least the greatest part of it. And note, that clods of grass\nthrown into any pond feed any Carps in summer; and that garden-earth and\nparsley thrown into a pond recovers and refreshes the sick fish. And\nnote, that when you store your pond, you are to put into it two or three\nmelters for one spawner, if you put them into a breeding-pond; but if\ninto a nurse-pond, or feeding-pond, in which they will not breed, then\nno care is to be taken whether there be most male or female Carps.\n\nIt is observed that the best ponds to breed Carps are those that be\nstony or sandy, and are warm, and free from wind; and that are not deep,\nbut have willow-trees and grass on their sides, over which the water\ndoes sometimes flow: and note, that Carps do more usually breed in\nmarle-pits, or pits that have clean clay bottoms; or in new ponds, or\nponds that lie dry a winter season, than in old ponds that be full of\nmud and weeds.\n\nWell, Scholar, I have told you the substance of all that either\nobservation or discourse, or a diligent survey of Dubravius and Lebault\nhath told me: not that they, in their long discourses, have not said\nmore; but the most of the rest are so common observations, as if a man\nshould tell a good arithmetician that twice two is four. I will\ntherefore put an end to this discourse; and we will here sit down and\nrest us.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe FIFTH day-continued\n\nChapter XXI\n\nPiscator and Venator\n\nPiscator. Well, Scholar, I have held you too long about these cadis, and\nsmaller fish, and rivers, and fish-ponds; and my spirits are almost\nspent, and so I doubt is your patience; but being we are now almost at\nTottenham where I first met you, and where we are to part, I will lose\nno time, but give you a little direction how to make and order your\nlines, and to colour the hair of which you make your lines, for that is\nvery needful to be known of an angler; and also how to paint your rod,\nespecially your top; for a right-grown top is a choice commodity, and\nshould be preserved from the water soaking into it, which makes it in\nwet weather to be heavy and fish ill-favouredly, and not true; and also\nit rots quickly for want of painting: and I think a good top is worth\npreserving, or I had not taken care to keep a top above twenty years.\n\nBut first for your Line. First note, that you are to take care that your\nhair be round and clear, and free from galls, or scabs, or frets: for a\nwell-chosen, even, clear, round hair, of a kind of glass-colour, will\nprove as strong as three uneven scabby hairs that are ill-chosen, and\nfull of galls or unevenness. You shall seldom find a black hair but it\nis round, but many white are flat and uneven; therefore, if you get a\nlock of right, round, clear, glass-colour hair, make much of it.\n\nAnd for making your line, observe this rule: first, let your hair be\nclean washed ere you go about to twist it; and then choose not only the\nclearest hair for it, but hairs that be of an equal bigness, for such do\nusually stretch all together, and break all together, which hairs of an\nunequal bigness never do, but break singly, and so deceive the angler\nthat trusts to them.\n\nWhen you have twisted your links, lay them in water for a quarter of an\nhour at least, and then twist them over again before you tie them into a\nline: for those that do not so shall usually find their line to have a\nhair or two shrink, and be shorter than the rest, at the first fishing\nwith it, which is so much of the strength of the line lost for want of\nfirst watering it, and then re-twisting it; and this is most visible in\na seven-hair line, one of those which hath always a black hair in the\nmiddle.\n\nAnd for dyeing of your hairs, do it thus: take a pint of strong ale,\nhalf a pound of soot, and a little quantity of the juice of walnut-tree\nleaves, and an equal quantity of alum: put these together into a pot,\npan, or pipkin, and boil them half an hour; and having so done, let it\ncool; and being cold, put your hair into it, and there let it lie; it\nwill turn your hair to be a kind of water or glass colour, or greenish;\nand the longer you let it lie, the deeper coloured it will be. You might\nbe taught to make many other colours, but it is to little purpose; for\ndoubtless the water-colour or glass-coloured hair is the most choice and\nmost useful for an angler, but let it not be too green.\n\nBut if you desire to colour hair greener, then do it thus: take a quart\nof small ale, half a pound of alum; then put these into a pan or pipkin,\nand your hair into it with them; then put it upon a fire, and let it\nboil softly for half an hour; and then take out your hair, and let it\ndry; and having so done, then take a pottle of water, and put into it\ntwo handfuls of marigolds, and cover it with a tile or what you think\nfit, and set it again on the fire, where it is to boil again softly for\nhalf an hour, about which time the scum will turn yellow; then put into\nit half a pound of copperas, beaten small, and with it the hair that you\nintend to colour; then let the hair be boiled softly till half the\nliquor be wasted, and then let it cool three or four hours, with your\nhair in it; and you are to observe that the more copperas you put into\nit, the greener it will be; but doubtless the pale green is best. But if\nyou desire yellow hair, which is only good when the weeds rot, then put\nin more marigolds; and abate most of the copperas, or leave it quite\nout, and take a little verdigris instead of it.\n\nThis for colouring your hair.\n\nAnd as for painting your Rod, which must be in oil, you must first make\na size with glue and water, boiled together until the glue be dissolved,\nand the size of a lye-colour: then strike your size upon the wood with a\nbristle, or a brush or pencil, whilst it is hot: that being quite dry,\ntake white-lead, and a little red-lead, and a little coal-black, so much\nas altogether will make an ash-colour: grind these altogether with\nlinseed-oil; let it be thick, and lay it thin upon the wood with a brush\nor pencil: this do for the ground of any colour to lie upon wood.\n\nFor a green, take pink and verdigris, and grind them together in linseed\noil, as thin as you can well grind it: then lay it smoothly on with your\nbrush, and drive it thin; once doing, for the most part, will serve, if\nyou lay it well; and if twice, be sure your first colour be thoroughly\ndry before you lay on a second.\n\nWell, Scholar, having now taught you to paint your rod, and we having\nstill a mile to Tottenham High-Cross, I will, as we walk towards it in\nthe cool shade of this sweet honeysuckle hedge, mention to you some of\nthe thoughts and joys that have possessed my soul since we two met\ntogether. And these thoughts shall be told you, that you also may join\nwith me in thankfulness to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, for\nour happiness. And that our present happiness may appear to be the\ngreater, and we the more thankful for it, I will beg you to consider\nwith me how many do, even at this very time, lie under the torment of\nthe stone, the gout, and tooth-ache; and this we are free from. And\nevery misery that I miss is a new mercy; and therefore let us be\nthankful. There have been, since we met, others that have met disasters\nor broken limbs; some have been blasted, others thunder-strucken: and we\nhave been freed from these, and all those many other miseries that\nthreaten human nature; let us therefore rejoice and be thankful. Nay,\nwhich is a far greater mercy, we are free from the insupportable burthen\nof an accusing tormenting conscience; a misery that none can bear: and\ntherefore let us praise Him for His preventing grace, and say, Every\nmisery that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let me tell you, there be many\nthat have forty times our estates, that would give the greatest part of\nit to be healthful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of a\nlittle money, have eat and drunk, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and\nslept securely; and rose next day and cast away care, and sung, and\nlaughed, and angled again; which are blessings rich men cannot purchase\nwith all their money. Let me tell you, Scholar, I have a rich neighbour\nthat is always so busy that he has no leisure to laugh; the whole\nbusiness of his life is to get money, and more money, that he may still\nget more and more money; he is still drudging on, and says, that Solomon\nsays \"The diligent hand maketh rich\"; and it is true indeed: but he\nconsiders not that it is not in the power of riches to make a man happy;\nfor it was wisely said, by a man of great observation, \"that there be as\nmany miseries beyond riches as on this side of them \". And yet God\ndeliver us from pinching poverty; and grant, that having a competency,\nwe may be content and thankful. Let not us repine, or so much as think\nthe gifts of God unequally dealt, if we see another abound with riches;\nwhen, as God knows, the cares that are the keys that keep those riches\nhang often so heavily at the rich man's girdle, that they clog him with\nweary days and restless nights, even when others sleep quietly. We see\nbut the outside of the rich man's happiness: few consider him to be like\nthe silk-worm, that, when she seems to play, is, at the very same time,\nspinning her own bowels, and consuming herself; and this many rich men\ndo, loading themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they have,\nprobably, unconscionably got. Let us, therefore, be thankful for health\nand a competence; and above all, for a quiet conscience.\n\nLet me tell you, Scholar, that Diogenes walked on a day, with his\nfriend, to see a country fair; where he saw ribbons, and\nlooking-glasses, and nutcrackers, and fiddles, and hobby-horses, and\nmany other gimcracks; and, having observed them, and all the other\nfinnimbruns that make a complete country-fair, he said to his friend,\n\"Lord, how many things are there in this world of which Diogenes hath no\nneed!\" And truly it is so, or might be so, with very many who vex and\ntoil themselves to get what they have no need of. Can any man charge\nGod, that He hath not given him enough to make his life happy? No,\ndoubtless; for nature is content with a little. And yet you shall hardly\nmeet with a man that complains not of some want; though he, indeed,\nwants nothing but his will; it may be, nothing but his will of his poor\nneighbour, for not worshipping, or not flattering him: and thus, when we\nmight be happy and quiet, we create trouble to ourselves. I have heard\nof a man that was angry with himself because he was no taller; and of a\nwoman that broke her looking-glass because it would not shew her face to\nbe as young and handsome as her next neighbour's was. And I knew another\nto whom God had given health and plenty; but a wife that nature had made\npeevish, and her husband's riches had made purse-proud; and must,\nbecause she was rich, and for no other virtue, sit in the highest pew in\nthe church; which being denied her, she engaged her husband into a\ncontention for it, and at last into a law-suit with a dogged neighbour\nwho was as rich as he, and had a wife as peevish and purse-proud as the\nother: and this law-suit begot higher oppositions, and actionable words,\nand more vexations and lawsuits; for you must remember that both were\nrich, and must therefore have their wills. Well! this wilful,\npurse-proud law-suit lasted during the life of the first husband; after\nwhich his wife vext and chid, and chid and vext, till she also chid and\nvext herself into her grave: and so the wealth of these poor rich people\nwas curst into a punishment, because they wanted meek and thankful\nhearts; for those only can make us happy. I knew a man that had health\nand riches; and several houses, all beautiful, and ready furnished; and\nwould often trouble himself and family to be removing from one house to\nanother: and being asked by a friend why he removed so often from one\nhouse to another, replied, \"It was to find content in some one of them\".\nBut his friend, knowing his temper, told him, \"If he would find content\nin any of his houses, he must leave himself behind him; for content will\nnever dwell but in a meek and quiet soul\". And this may appear, if we\nread and consider what our Saviour says in St. Matthew's Gospel; for He\nthere says\u0097\"Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.\nBlessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed be the\npoor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And, \"Blessed be the\nmeek, for they shall possess the earth.\" Not that the meek shall not\nalso obtain mercy, and see God, and be comforted, and at last come to\nthe kingdom of heaven: but in the meantime, he, and he only, possesses\nthe earth, as he goes towards that kingdom of heaven, by being humble\nand cheerful, and content with what his good God had allotted him. He\nhas no turbulent, repining, vexatious thoughts that he deserves better;\nnor is vext when he see others possess of more honour or more riches\nthan his wise God has allotted for his share: but he possesses what he\nhas with a meek and contented quietness, such a quietness as makes his\nvery dreams pleasing, both to God and himself.\n\nMy honest Scholar, all this is told to incline you to thankfulness; and\nto incline you the more, let me tell you, and though the prophet David\nwas guilty of murder and adultery, and many other of the most deadly\nsins, yet he was said to be a man after God's own heart, because he\nabounded more with thankfulness that any other that is mentioned in holy\nscripture, as may appear in his book of Psalms; where there is such a\ncommixture, of his confessing of his sins and unworthiness, and such\nthankfulness for God's pardon and mercies, as did make him to be\naccounted, even by God himself, to be a man after his own heart: and let\nus, in that, labour to be as like him as we can; let not the blessings\nwe receive daily from God make us not to value, or not praise Him,\nbecause they be common; let us not forget to praise Him for the innocent\nmirth and pleasure we have met with since we met together. What would a\nblind man give to see the pleasant rivers, and meadows, and flowers, and\nfountains, that we have met with since we met together? I have been\ntold, that if a man that was born blind could obtain to have his sight\nfor but only one hour during his whole life, and should, at the first\nopening of his eyes, fix his sight upon the sun when it was in its full\nglory, either at the rising or setting of it, he would be so transported\nand amazed, and so admire the glory of it, that he would not willingly\nturn his eyes from that first ravishing object, to behold all the other\nvarious beauties this world could present to him. And this, and many\nother like blessings, we enjoy daily. And for the most of them, because\nthey be so common, most men forget to pay their praises: but let not us;\nbecause it is a sacrifice so pleasing to Him that made that sun and us,\nand still protects us, and gives us flowers, and showers, and stomachs,\nand meat, and content, and leisure to go a-fishing.\n\nWell, Scholar, I have almost tired myself, and, I fear, more than almost\ntired you. But I now see Tottenham High-Cross; and our short walk\nthither shall put a period to my too long discourse; in which my meaning\nwas, and is, to plant that in your mind with which I labour to possess\nmy own soul; that is, a meek and thankful heart. And to that end I have\nshewed you, that riches without them, do not make any man happy. But let\nme tell you, that riches with them remove many fears and cares. And\ntherefore my advice is, that you endeavour to be honestly rich, or\ncontentedly poor: but be sure that your riches be justly got, or you\nspoil all. For it is well said by Caussin, \"He that loses his\nconscience has nothing left that is worth keeping\". Therefore be sure\nyou look to that. And, in the next place, look to your health: and if\nyou have it, praise God, and value it next to a good conscience; for\nhealth is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of; a blessing\nthat money cannot buy; and therefore value it, and be thankful for it.\nAs for money, which may be said to be the third blessing, neglect it\nnot: but note, that there is no necessity of being rich; for I told you,\nthere be as many miseries beyond riches as on this side them: and if you\nhave a competence, enjoy it with a meek, cheerful, thankful heart. I\nwill tell you, Scholar, I have heard a grave Divine say, that God has\ntwo dwellings; one in heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful\nheart; which Almighty God grant to me, and to my honest Scholar. And so\nyou are welcome to Tottenham High-Cross.\n\nVenator. Well, Master, I thank you for all your good directions; but for\nnone more than this last, of thankfulness, which I hope I shall never\nforget. And pray let's now rest ourselves in this sweet shady arbour,\nwhich nature herself has woven with her own fine fingers; 'tis such a\ncontexture of woodbines, sweetbriar, jasmine, and myrtle; and so\ninterwoven, as will secure us both from the sun's violent heat, and from\nthe approaching shower. And being set down, I will requite a part of\nyour courtesies with a bottle of sack, milk, oranges, and sugar, which,\nall put together, make a drink like nectar; indeed, too good for any but\nus Anglers, And so, Master, here is a full glass to you of that liquor:\nand when you have pledged me, I will repeat the Verses which I promised\nyou: it is a Copy printed among some of Sir Henry Wotton's, and\ndoubtless made either by him, or by a lover of angling. Come, Master,\nnow drink a glass to me, and then I will pledge you, and fall to my\nrepetition; it is a description of such country recreations as I have\nenjoyed since I had the happiness to fall into your company.\n\n    Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares,\n    Anxious sighs, untimely tears,\n        Fly, fly to courts,\n        Fly to fond worldlings' sports,\n    Where strain'd sardonic smiles are glosing still,\n    And Grief is forc'd to laugh against her will:\n        Where mirth's but mummery,\n        And sorrows only real be.\n\n    Fly from our country pastimes, fly,\n    Sad troops of human misery.\n        Come, serene looks,\n        Clear as the crystal brooks,\n    Or the pure azur'd heaven that smiles to see\n    The rich attendance of our poverty:\n        Peace and a secure mind,\n        Which all men seek, we only find.\n\n    Abused mortals I did you know\n    Where joy, heart's-ease, and comforts grow,\n        You'd scorn proud towers,\n        And seek them in these bowers;\n    Where winds, sometimes, our woods perhaps may shake,\n    But blust'ring care could never tempest make,\n        Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us,\n        Saving of fountains that glide by us.\n\n    Here's no fantastick mask, nor dance,\n    But of our kids that frisk and prance;\n        Nor wars are seen\n        Unless upon the green\n    Two harmless lambs are butting one the other,\n    Which done, both bleating run, each to his mother\n        And wounds are never found,\n        Save what the plough-share gives the ground.\n\n    Here are no false entrapping baits,\n    To hasten too, too hasty Fates,\n        Unless it be\n        The fond credulity\n    Of silly fish, which worldling like, still look\n    Upon the bait, but never on the hook;\n        Nor envy, unless among\n        The birds, for prize of their sweet song.\n\n    Go, let the diving negro seek\n    For gems, hid in some forlorn creek:\n        We all pearls scorn,\n        Save what the dewy morn\n    Congeals upon each little spire of grass,\n    Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass:\n        And gold ne'er here appears,\n        Save what the yellow Ceres bears,\n\n    Blest silent groves, oh may ye be,\n    For ever, mirth's best nursery!\n        May pure contents\n        For ever pitch their tents\n    Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these mountains.\n    And peace still slumber by these purling fountains:\n        Which we may, every year,\n        Meet when we come a-fishing here.\n\nPiscator. Trust me, Scholar, I thank you heartily for these Verses: they\nbe choicely good, and doubtless made by a lover of angling. Come, now,\ndrink a glass to me, and I will requite you with another very good copy:\nit is a farewell to the vanities of the world, and some say written by\nSir Harry Wotton, who I told you was an excellent angler. But let them\nbe writ by whom they will, he that writ them had a brave soul, and must\nneeds be possess with happy thoughts at the time of their composure.\n\n    Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles;\n    Farewell, ye honour'd rags, ye glorious bubbles;\n    Fame's but a hollow echo, Gold, pure clay;\n    Honour the darling but of one short day;\n    Beauty, th' eye's idol, but a damask'd skin;\n    State, but a golden prison, to live in\n    And torture free-born minds; embroider'd Trains,\n    Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins;\n    And Blood allied to greatness is alone\n    Inherited, not purchas'd, nor our own.\n      Fame, Honour, Beauty, State, Train, Blood and Birth,\n      Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.\n\n    I would be great, but that the sun doth still\n    Level his rays against the rising hill:\n    I would be high, but see the proudest oak\n    Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke:\n    I would be rich, but see men, too unkind\n    Dig in the bowels of the richest mind:\n    I would be wise, but that I often see\n    The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free:\n    I would be fair, but see the fair and proud,\n    Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud:\n    I would be poor, but know the humble grass\n    Still trampled on by each unworthy ass:\n    Rich, hated wise, suspected, scorn'd if poor;\n    Great, fear'd, fair, tempted, high, still envy'd more.\n      I have wish'd all, but now I wish for neither.\n      Great, high, rich, wise, nor fair: poor I'll be rather.\n\n    Would the World now adopt me for her heir;\n    Would beauty's Queen entitle me the fair;\n    Fame speak me fortune's minion, could I \"vie\n    Angels\" with India with a speaking eye\n    Command bare heads, bow'd knees, strike justice dumb,\n    As well as blind and lame, or give a tongue\n    To stones by epitaphs, be call'd \"great master\"\n    In the loose rhymes of every poetaster?\n    Could I be more than any man that lives,\n    Great, fair, rich wise, all in superlatives;\n    Yet I more freely would these gifts resign\n    Than ever fortune would have made them mine.\n      And hold one minute of this holy leisure\n      Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure.\n\n    Welcome, pure thoughts; welcome, ye silent groves;\n    These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves.\n    Now the wing'd people of the sky shall sing\n    My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring:\n    A pray'r-book, now, shall be my looking-glass,\n    In which I will adore sweet virtue's face.\n    Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace cares,\n    No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-fac'd fears;\n    Then here I'll sit, and sigh my hot love's folly,\n    And learn t' affect an holy melancholy:\n      And if contentment be a stranger then,\n      I'll ne'er look for it, but in heaven, again.\n\nVenator. Well, Master, these verses be worthy to keep a room in every\nman's memory. I thank you for them; and I thank you for your many\ninstructions, which, God willing, I will not forget. And as St. Austin,\nin his Confessions, commemorates the kindness of his friend Verecundus,\nfor lending him and his companion a country house, because there they\nrested and enjoyed themselves, free from the troubles of the world, so,\nhaving had the like advantage, both by your conversation and the art you\nhave taught me, I ought ever to do the like; for, indeed, your company\nand discourse have been so useful and pleasant, that, I may truly say, I\nhave only lived since I enjoyed them and turned angler, and not before.\nNevertheless, here I must part with you; here in this now sad place,\nwhere I was so happy as first to meet you: but I shall long for the\nninth of May; for then I hope again to enjoy your beloved company, at\nthe appointed time and place. And now I wish for some somniferous\npotion, that might force me to sleep away the intermitted time, which\nwill pass away with me as tediously as it does with men in sorrow;\nnevertheless I will make it as short as I can, by my hopes and wishes:\nand, my good Master, I will not forget the doctrine which you told me\nSocrates taught his scholars, that they should not think to be honoured\nso much for being philosophers, as to honour philosophy by their\nvirtuous lives. You advised me to the like concerning Angling, and I\nwill endeavour to do so; and to live like those many worthy men, of\nwhich you made mention in the former part of your discourse. This is my\nfirm resolution. And as a pious man advised his friend, that, to beget\nmortification, he should frequent churches, and view monuments, and\ncharnel-houses, and then and there consider how many dead bodies time\nhad piled up at the gates of death, so when I would beget content, and\nincrease confidence in the power, and wisdom, and providence of Almighty\nGod, I will walk the meadows, by some gliding stream, and there\ncontemplate the lilies that take no care, and those very many other\nvarious little living creatures that are not only created, but fed, man\nknows not how, by the goodness of the God of Nature, and therefore trust\nin him. This is my purpose; and so, let everything that hath breath\npraise the Lord: and let the blessing of St. Peter's Master be with\nmine.\n\nPiscator. And upon all that are lovers of virtue; and dare trust in his\nprovidence; and be quiet; and go a-Angling.\n\n\"Study to be quiet.\"","title":"The Compleat Angler","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":65274}