AtiEUNIVER% LOS-/ 
 
 ^AOS'ANGELFj> 
 
 ^HJBRARYtf/ 
 
 ^ & 
 
 o \^
 
 C OF-CALIFO% 
 
 OF-CAL1F(% ^OF-CALIFO%
 
 THE 
 
 SECRETS 
 
 uF 
 
 ANGLING 
 
 TEACHING THE CHOICEST TOOLES, BAITS AND SEASONS, 
 FOR THE TAKING OF ANY FISH, IN POND OR RIVER : 
 
 PRACTISED, AND FAMILIARLY OPENED IN 
 THREE BOOKS. 
 
 By J. D. Esquire. 
 
 
 AUGMENTED WITH MANY APPROVED 
 EXPERIMENTS. 
 
 By W. LAUSON. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY T. H. FOR JOHN HARISON, AND ARE TO BE 
 SOLD BY FBANCIS COLES AT HIS SHOP IN THE OLD 
 
 BAYLY. 1652. 
 BBPR1NTED FOR ROBERT TRIPHOOK, 3?; ST. JAMEs's STREET. 
 
 1811.
 
 T. Bcnsley, Printer, 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.
 
 0-4 a* 
 
 mi 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 7Af Me jrs edition of Izaak Walton's Complete 
 dngler, the author of the following Poem was desig- 
 nated ly the abridged name of lo. Da., which in a 
 subsequent edition was lengthened to Davors. The 
 real author, however, as will le seen in the following 
 extract from the Books of the Stationer's Company, 
 was JOHN DE^TNYS, Esquire. 
 
 " 1612. 23 Martij." 
 
 " Mr. Rog. Jackson entred for his copie under 
 ** th'ands of Mr. Mason and Mr. Warden Hooper & 
 " Book called the Secrete of Angling, teaching the 
 " choysest tooles, bates, 8c seasons for the taking of 
 " any fish in Pond or River, practised and opened in 
 " three bookes, by lohn Dennys, Esquire." 
 
 It needs not to le added thai the first edition of the 
 Work, a copy of which is preserved in the Bodleian 
 Library at Oxford, appeared immediately after t with, 
 the date of 1613.
 
 In due Praise of his Praise-worthy Skill and Worke. 
 
 " In skils that all do seek, but few do find 
 Both gain & game; (like sun & moon do shine) 
 Then th' Art of fishing thus, is of that kind; 
 The Angler taketh both with hook and line, 
 And as with lines, both these he takes; this takes 
 With many a line, well made, both ears & hearts, 
 And by this skill, the skil-lesse skilfull makes : 
 The corpes whereof dissected so he parts, 
 Upon an humble subject never lay, 
 More proud, yet plainer lines, the plain to lead. 
 This plainer Art with pleasure to survay. 
 To purchase it with profit, by that DEED : 
 Who think this skill's too low than for the high, 
 
 O * 
 
 This Angler read, and they'le be taine thereby. 
 
 Jo. DAVES."
 
 ** To the worthy, and my respected Friend, Mr. lohn 
 Harlorne of Tackley, in the County of Oxford^ Es- 
 quire. 
 
 " WORTHY SIR, 
 
 " This poem being sent unto me to be printed after the 
 death of the authour, who intended to have done it in his life, 
 but was prevented by death : I could not among my good 
 friends, bethink me of any one to whom I might more fitly 
 dedicate it (as well for the nature of the subject, in which 
 you delight, as to express my love) than to your selfe. I find 
 it not only savouring of art and honesty, two things now 
 strangers unto many authours, but also both pleasant and 
 profitable; and being loath to see a thing of such value lie 
 hidden in obscurity, whilst matters of no moment pester the 
 stalls of every stationer: I therefore make bold to publish it, 
 for the benefit and delight of all, trusting that I shall neither 
 thereby disparage the authour, nor dislike them. I need not, 
 I thinke apologize either the use of the subject, or for that it 
 is reduced into the nature of a poeme, for as touching the last 
 (in that it is in verse) some count it by so much the more de- 
 lightfull ; and I hold it every way as fit a subject for poetry as 
 husbandry : and touching the first, if Hunting and Hawking 
 have beene thought worthy delights, and arts to be instructed 
 in, I mske no doubt but this Art of Angling is much more 
 worthy t notice and approbation ; for it is a sport every way as 
 pleasant, lesse chargeable, more profitable, and nothing so 
 much subject to choller or impatience as those are: you shall 
 finde it more briefly, pleasantly, and more exactly performed, 
 then any of this kinde heretofore. Therefore I referre you to 
 the perusing thereof, and my selfe to your good opinion, which 
 I tender as that I hold most deare ; ever remaining at 
 
 Your gentle command, 
 
 R.I. 
 
 ^ A 2 To
 
 ft To the Reader. 
 
 u It may seeme in me presumption to adde this little com-' 
 ment to the work of so worthy an author. But Mr. Harrison 
 the stationers request and desire to give his country satisfac- 
 tion, must be satisfied, and in it my selfe rest excused. What 
 mine observations are, I refer to censure : assuredly, the truth 
 stands on so well grounded experience, that but my haste, 
 nothing can do them injury. What to me is doubtfull, I have, 
 as I can, explained : what wants, in my judgement, I have 
 supplied as the time would suffer : what I passe by, I approve. 
 The authour by verse hath expressed much learning, and by 
 his Answer to the Objection, shewn himselfe to have been 
 vertuous. The subject it selfe is honest, and pleasant, and 
 sometimes profitable. Use it, and give God all glory. Amen. 
 
 W. LAUSON." 
 
 The
 
 < The Contents. 
 
 The first Booke containeth these Heads. 
 
 1. The Antiquity of Angling, with the Art of Fishing, and of 
 Fishing in generall. 
 
 2. The lawfulnesse, pleasure, and profit thereof, with all ob- 
 jections, answered against it. 
 
 3. To know the season, and times to provide the tooles, and 
 how to chuse the best, and the maner how to make them fit 
 to take each severall Fish. 
 
 The second Booke containeth : 
 
 1 . The Angler's experience, how to use his tools and baits, to 
 make profit by his game. 
 
 2. What Fish is not taken with Angle, and what is : and 
 what is best for health. 
 
 3. In what Waters and Rivers to find each Fish. 
 
 The third Booke containeth : 
 
 1. The twelve Vertues and Qualities which ought to be in 
 every Angler. 
 
 2. What weather, seasons, and time of the yeare is best and 
 worst, and what houres of the day is best for sport. 
 
 3. To know each Fishes haunt, and the times to take them. 
 Also an obscure secret of an approved bait tending thereunto.
 
 THE 
 
 SECRETS 
 
 OF 
 
 A N G JL I N G- 
 
 THE FIRST BOOKE. , 
 
 Of Angling, and the Art thereof I sing, 
 What kind of tooles it doth behove to have ; 
 And with what pleasing bait a man may bring 
 The fish to bite within the watry wave : 
 A work of thanks to such as in a thing 
 Of harmlesse pleasure have regard to save 
 
 Their dearest soules from sin, and may intend 
 Of pretious time some part thereon to spend. 
 
 You Nimphs that in the springs and waters sweet 
 Your dwellings have, of every hill and dale, 
 And oft amidst the meadows green do meet 
 To sport and play, and hear the nightingale, 
 And in the rivers fresh do wash your feet, 
 While Progne's sister tels her wofull tale : 
 Such ayd and power unto my verses lend, 
 As may suffice this little worke to end. 
 
 And thou sweet Royd* that with thy watry sway 
 Dost wash the clifFes of Deington and of Week, 
 And through their rocks, with crooked winding way, 
 Thy mother Avon runnest soft to seek : 
 In whose fair streams the speckled trout doth play, 
 The roch, the dace, the gudgin, and the bleike : 
 Teach me the skill with slender line and hook, 
 To take each fish of river, pond, and biook 
 
 * The name of a brooke. 
 
 A 4 Tht
 
 2 THE FIRST BOOKS 
 
 The time for providing Angle Rods. 
 
 First, when the sun beginneth to decline 
 Southward his course, wich his faire chariot bright, 
 And passed hath heaven the middle line, 
 ^That makes of equall length both day and night j 
 And left behind his back the dreadfull signe 
 Of cruell Centaure, slain in drunken fight; 
 
 When beasts do mourn, and birds forsake their song* 
 And every creature thinks the night too long. 
 
 And blustring Boreas with his chilling cold, 
 Unclothed hath the trees of summers green, 
 And woods, and groves are naked to behold, 
 Of leaves and branches now dispoyled clean ; 
 So that their fruitfull stocks they do unfold, 
 And lay abroad their offspring to be seen j 
 
 Where nature shews her great increase of kind; 
 
 To such as seek her tender shutes to finde* 
 
 Then go in some great Arcadian wood r 
 Where store of ancient hazels do abound, 
 And seeke among their springs and tender brood, 
 Such sheutes as are the straightest, long and round : 
 And of them all (store up what you think good) 
 But fairest choose, the smoothest and most sound j- 
 So that they do not two years growth exceed, 
 In shape and beauty like the Belgick reed. 
 
 These prune and cleanse of every leafe and spray,. 
 Yet leave the tender top remaining still ; 
 Then home with thee go beare them safe away, 
 But perish not the rine and utter pill j * 
 And on some even boarded floore them lay, f 
 Where they may dry and season at their fill : 
 
 And place upon their crooked parts some waight 
 To presse them downe, and keep them plaine and 
 straight. 
 
 So shalt thou have alwayes in store the best, 
 And fittest rods to serve thy turne aright j 
 For not the brittle kane, nor all the rest, 
 I like so well, though it be long and light, 
 
 * Beath-them a little, except the top, all in a furnnce, they will 
 be lighter, and not top heavy : which is a great fault in a rod. 
 
 f Tie them together at every bought, and they will keep one 
 another straight. 
 
 Since
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 
 
 Since that the Fish are frighted with the least 
 Aspect of any glittering thing, or white: * 
 Nor doth it by one halfe so well incline, 
 As doth the plyant rod to save the line, f 
 
 To make the Line. 
 
 Then get good haire, so that it be not black, 
 Neither of mare nor gelding let it be : 
 Nor of the tireling jade that bears the pack; 
 But of some lusty horse or courser free, 
 Whose bushy taile upon the ground doth track, 
 Like blazing comet that sometime we see : 
 From out the midst thereof the longest take, 
 At leasure best your links and lines to make. 
 
 Then twist them finely as you think most meet, 
 By skill or practice easie to be found j 
 As doth Ariadne with her slender feet * 
 Draw forth her little thread along the ground, 
 But not too hard or slack, the mean is sweet, 
 Lest slackt they snarl, or hard they prove unsound, 
 And intermix with silver, silke, or gold, 
 The tender hakes, the better so to hold. 
 
 * White or gray are likest the sky, and therefore of all other 
 colours- offend the least. 
 
 f Besides the fish discernes it, and are put away with the 
 stiffnesse of the rod : whereas on the contrary, the weake rod 
 yields liberty to the fish, without suspition, to run away with the 
 bait at his pleasure. 
 
 \ Knit the haires you mean to put in one link, at the rod'* 
 end, and divide them as equally as you can, put your three lowest 
 fingers betwixt, and twine the knot, and your link shal be equally 
 twist ; if you wet your hair, it will twine better. A nimble hand, 
 a weak and light rod, that may be easily guided with one hand, 
 need but four or five hairs at the most, for the greatest river fish, 
 though a salmon or luce, so you have length enough, and except 
 the luce and salmon three will suffice. 
 
 Intermixing with silver or gold, is not good i because, first 
 the thread and haire are not of equall reach. 
 
 Secondly, the colours diiFering from the hairs, or flye, affrights 
 the fish. 
 
 Thirdly, they will not bed and twist with the hairs.
 
 THE ?1RST BOOKJS 
 
 Then end to end as falleth to their lot, 
 Let all yonr links in order as they lye, 
 Be knit together, with that fisher's knot, 
 That will not slip or with the wet untye: 
 And at the lowest end forget it not, 
 To leave a bout or compasse like an eye, 
 
 Thelinke that holds your hook to hang upon, 
 When you thinke good to take it off and on. * 
 
 Which linke must neither be so great nor strong, 
 Nor like of colour as the others were ; t 
 Scant halfe so big, so that it be as long : 
 Of grayest hue, and of the soundest haire, 
 Lest while it hangs the liquid* waves among, 
 The sight thereof the wary fish should feare : 
 And at one end a loope or compasse fine 
 To fasten to the other of your line. 
 
 Corke. 
 
 Then take good corke so much as shall suffice 
 
 For every line to make his swimmer fit, J 
 
 And where the midst and thickest parts do rise, 
 
 There burn a round small hole quite thorow it, 
 
 And put therein a quill of equal size, 
 
 But take good heed the corke you do not slit : 
 
 Then round or square with rasor pare it near, 
 
 Piramid-wise, or like a slender peare. 
 
 The smaller end doth serve to sink more light, 
 Into the water with the plummets sway ; 
 The greater swims aloft and stands upright, 
 To keep the line and bnyt at even stay, 
 
 * An upper end also, to put it too and fro the rod. 
 
 f The same colour: (to wit gray like the sky) the like bignes 
 and strength, is good for all the line and every linke thereof, 
 weight is hurtfull, so unequail strength causeth the weakest to 
 breake. 
 
 J I utterly dislike yonr southern corks. First for they affright 
 the fish, in the bite and sight, and because they follow not so 
 kindly the nimble rod and hand. Secondly, they breed weight to 
 the line, which puts it in danger, and hinders the nimble jtrk of 
 the rod, and loades the arm. A good eye and hand mny easily 
 discern the bite. 
 
 That
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 
 
 i 
 
 That when the fish begins to nib and bite, 
 The moving of the float doth them bewray: 
 These may you place upon your lines at will, 
 And stop them with a white and handsome quill. 
 
 HooJts. 
 
 Then buy your hooks the finest and the best x 
 That may be had of such as use to sell, * 
 And from the greatest to the very least, 
 Of every sort pick out and choose them well, 
 Such as in shape and making passe the rest, 
 And do for strength and soundnesse most excell : 
 Then in a little box of driest wood 
 From rust and cauker keep them faire and good. 
 
 That hooke I love that is incompast round 
 Like to the print that Pegasus did make, 
 With horned hoofe upon Thessalian ground ; 
 From whence forthwith Pernassus spring out brake 
 That doth in pleasant waters so abound, 
 And of the Muses oft the thirst doth slake, 
 Who on his iruitfull bankes do sit and sing, 
 That all the world of their sweet tunes doth ring, f 
 
 * I use to make mine own hooks, so shall I have them of the 
 best Spanish and Miilan needles, of what size bent or sharpness, 
 and I like as I need. Soften your needles in an hot fire in a chafer. 
 
 The Instruments. First, an hold-fast. 
 
 Secondly, an hammer to flat the place for the beard. 
 
 Thirdly, a file to make the beard, and sharpen the point. 
 
 Fourthly, a bender, viz. a pin bended, put in the end of a 
 stick, an handfull long, thus, | fr 
 
 When they are made, lap them in the end of a wier, and heat 
 them againe, and temper them in oyle or butter. 
 
 f The best form for ready striking and sure holding and 
 strength, is a strait and somewhat long sharike and strait nib'd, 
 with a little compasse, not round in any wise for it nei- 
 
 ther strikes surely nor readily, but is weak, as having 
 
 too great a compasse : some use to batter the **" t ~S upper end 
 thus to hold i the faster: but good thred or siike, good band 
 
 may make it ^^J fast enough, it is botcherly, hinders the 
 biting and ^*" / sometimes cuts the line. 
 
 Ot
 
 THE FIRST BOOKS 
 
 Or as Thaumantis, when she list to shroud 
 Herselfe against the parching sanny ray, 
 Under the mantle of some stormy cloud, 
 Where she her sundry colours doth display, 
 Like Junoes bird, of her fair garments proud, 
 That Phcebus gave her on her marriage day : 
 Shews forth her goodly circle fair and wide, 
 To mortall wights that wonder at "her pride. 
 
 His shank should neither be too short nor long, 
 His point not over sharp, nor yet too dull : * 
 The substance good that may indure from wrong : 
 His needle slender, yet both round and full, 
 Made of the right Iberian mettall strong, 
 That will not stretch, nor break at every pull : 
 
 Wrought smooth and cleane withouten crack or knot, 
 And bearded like the wild Arabian goat. 
 
 Then let your hook be sure and strongly plac't 
 Unto your lowest linke with silke or haire, 
 Which you may do with often overcast, 
 So that you draw the bowts together neare. 
 And with both ends make all the others fast, 
 That no bare place or rising knot appeare ; 
 Then on that 1'nke hang leads of even weight 
 To raise your float, and carry down your bait. 
 
 Tims have you rod, line, float and hook ; 
 The rod to strike when you shall think it fit, 
 The line to lead the fish with wary skill, 
 The float and quill to warn you of the bit ; 
 The hook to hold him by the chap or gill, 
 Hook, line and rod, all guided to your wit. 
 Yet there remainesof fishing-tooles to tell, 
 Some other sorts that you must have as well. 
 
 Ot her ji^ h ing-tooles. 
 
 A little board, the lightest you can find, f 
 But not so thin that it will break or bend, 
 Of cypres sweet, or of some other kind, 
 That like a trencher shall it selfe extend: 
 
 * He meanes the hooke may be too weake at the point, it can- 
 not be too sharpe if the mettall be good steele. 
 
 f Or winde them on two or three of your fingers, like an Orph- 
 Arions string. 
 
 Made
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 7 
 
 Made smooth and plain your lines thereon to wind 
 
 With battlements at every other end : 
 
 Like to the bulwarke of some ancient townc. 
 As wel!-wall'd Sylchester now razed downe. 
 
 A shooe to bear the crawling worms therein, ' 
 With hole above to hang it by your side, * 
 A hollow cane that must be light and thin, 
 Wherein the Bob and Palmer shall abide., 
 Which must be stopped with an handsome pin, 
 Lesr out againe your baits do hap to slide. 
 A little box that covered close shall lie, 
 To keep therein the busie winged flie. 
 
 Then must you have a plummet, formed round, 
 Like to the pellet of a birding bow : f 
 Wherewith you may the secret'st waters sound, 
 And set your float thereafter, high or low, 
 Till you the depth thereof have truly found, 
 And on the same a twisted thread bestow, 
 At your own will, to hang it on your hook, 
 And so to let it down into the brook. 
 
 Of lead likewise, yet must you have n ring, 
 Whose whole diameter in length contains J 
 Three inches full, and fastned to a string 
 That must be long and sure, if need constrains: 
 Through whose round hole you shall your angle bring, 
 And let it fall into the watry plains, 
 
 Untill he come the weeds and sticks unto, 
 From whence your hooke it serveth to undo. 
 
 Have tools good store to serve your turn withal], 
 Lest that you happen some to lose or breake 3 
 As in great waters oft it doth befall, 
 
 * Worme poake of cloath, or boxes. 
 
 -f- A plummet you needs not, for your line being welj leadtd, 
 and without a float, will try your depths. When the lead above 
 your hooke comes to the earth, the line will leave sinking. 
 
 t That is good, but a forked rod about- two yards long is 
 better: when your hooke is fastned in the water, take a rod thus 
 fashioned, 
 
 and put the line in the forke, and so follow down to your hooke, 
 and so letting your line be somewhat slack, move your forke too 
 and fro, especially downwards, and so shall your hooke be loose. 
 
 W
 
 THE FIRST BOOKE 
 
 "When that the hooke is nought, or line too weake, 
 And waxed thread, or silke so it be small, 
 To set them on, that if you list to wieake 
 . Your former losse, you may supply the place, 
 And not returns with sorrow and disgrace. 
 
 Have twist likewise, so that it be not white, * 
 Your rod to mend, or broken top to tyej 
 For all while colours do the fishes fright, 
 And make them from the bait away to flye r 
 A file to mend your hooks, both small and light, 
 A good sharp knife your girdle h nging by: 
 A pouch with many parts and purses thin, 
 To carry all your tooles and trinkets in. 
 
 Yet must you have a little rip beside 
 Of willow twig.s, the finest you can wish, 
 AVJuch shall be made so handsome and so wide 
 As may contain good store of sundry fish: 
 And yet with ease be hanged by your side, 
 To bring them home the better to your dish. 
 A little net that on a pole shall stand, 
 The mighty pike or heavy carpe to land. 
 
 His sever all Tooles, and what Garment is fittest. 
 
 And let your garments russet be or gray, 
 Of colour darke, and hardest to discry, 
 That with the raine or weather will awny, 
 And least offend the fearfull fishes eye: 
 For neither scarlet, nor rich cloth of ray, 
 Nor colours dipt of fresh -Assyrian dye, 
 
 Nor tender silkes, of purple, paule, of gold, ' 
 Will serve so well to keep off wet or cold. 
 
 Jn th's array the Angler good shall go 
 Unto the brooke to find his wished game ; 
 Lake old Menalchus wandring to and fro, 
 Until 1 he chance to light upon the same, 
 And there his art and cunning shall bestow, 
 For every fish his bait so well to frame, 
 That long ere Phoebus set in western fome, 
 He shall return well loaden to his home. 
 
 * White and gray is good, answering the colours of the skie. 
 
 Object ion,
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. . . ^ 
 
 Objection. 
 
 Some youthfull gallant here perhaps will sa/ 
 This is no pastime for a gentleman, 
 It were more fit at cards and dice to play, 
 To use both fence and dancing now and than, 
 Or walk the streets in nice and strange array, 
 Or with coy phrases court his mistris fan: 
 
 A poor delight, with toyl and painfull watch, 
 With losse of time a silly fish to catch. 
 
 What pleasure can it be to walk about 
 The fields and meads, in heat or pinching cold, 
 And stand all day to catch a silfy trout, 
 That is not worth a teaster to be sold, 
 And peradventure sometimes go without : 
 Besides the toyls and troubles manifold: 
 
 And to be washt with many a shovvre of rain. 
 Before he can return from thence again ? 
 
 More ease it were, and more delight I trow, 
 In some sweet house to passe the time away, 
 Amongst the best with brave and gallant show, 
 And with fair dames to daunce, to sport, and play, 
 And on the board the nimble dice to throw, 
 That brings in gain, and helps the shot to pay; 
 And with good wine, and store of dainty fare, 
 To feed at will, and take but little care. 
 
 A worthy Answer. 
 
 I mean not here mens errours to reprove, 
 Nor<k> I envy their seeming happy state; 
 But rather marvell why they do not loue 
 An honest sport, that is without debate j 
 Since their abused pastimes often move 
 Their mindes to anger, and to mortall hate: 
 
 And as in bad delights their time they spend, 
 
 So oft it brings them to no better end. 
 Indeed it is a life of lesser pain, 
 To sit at play from rioon till it be night : 
 And then from night till it be noon again, 
 With damned oaths pronounced in despighr, 
 For little cause, and svery trifle vain, 
 To curse, to brawle, to quarrell, and to fight, 
 
 To pack the cards, and with some cozaing trick 
 
 His fellow's purse of all his coyn to pick. 
 
 Or
 
 1O THE FIRST BOOKS 
 
 Or to beguile another of his wife, 
 As did TEghrstus Agamemnon serve : 
 Or as that Roman monark * led a life 
 To spoyle and spend, while others pine and starve, 
 And to compell their friends with foolish strife 
 To take more drink then will their health preserve. 
 And to conclude, for debt or just desart, 
 In baser tune to sing the counter-part. 
 
 let me rather on the pleasant brinke 
 
 Of Tyne and Trent possesse some dwelling place, 
 Where I may see my quill and corke down sinke 
 With eager bit of Barbell, Bleike, or Dace : 
 And on the world and hisCreatour thinke, 
 While they proud Thais painted sheet embrace, 
 And with the fume of strong tobacco's smoke, 
 All' quaffing round are ready for to choke. 
 
 jLet them that list these pastimes then pursue, 
 And on their pleasing fancies feed their fill ; 
 So 1 the fields and meadows green may view, 
 And by the rivers fresh may walke at will, 
 Among the dazies and the violets blew : 
 Red hyacinth, and yellow daffodill, 
 
 Purple Narcissus like the morning rayes, 
 Pale Ganderglas, and azor Culverkayes. 
 
 1 count it better pleasure to behold 
 The goodly compasse of the lofty skie, 
 And in the midst thereof like burning gold, 
 The flaming chariot of the world's great eye j 
 The watry clouds that in the ayre uprold 
 With sundry kinds of painted colours fliej 
 
 And faire Aurora lifting up her head, 
 All blushing rise from old Tithonus bed. 
 
 The hils and mountains raised from the plains, 
 The plains extended levell with the ground, 
 The ground divided into sundry vains, 
 The vains enclos'd with running rivers round, 
 The rivers making way through nature's chains, 
 With headlong course into the sea profound ; 
 The surging sea bereath the vallies low, 
 The vallies sweet, and lakes that lovely flow. 
 
 * Nero. 
 
 The
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 
 
 The lofty woods, the forrests wide and long 
 Adorn'd with leaves and branches fresh and green, 
 la whose cool brows the birds with chanting song 
 Do welcome with their quire the Summer's Queen, 
 The meadows fair where Flora's guifts among, 
 Are intermix! the verdant grasse between. 
 The silver skaled fish that softly swim 
 Within the brooks and chrystall watry brim. 
 
 All these and many more of his creation, 
 
 That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see, 
 
 And takes therein no little delectation 
 
 To thinke how strange and wonderfull they bee, 
 
 Framing thereof an inward contemplation, 
 
 To set his thoughts on other fancies free : 
 
 And whiles he looks on these with joyfull eye, 
 His minde is wrapt above the starry skie. 
 
 The Author of Angling, Poeticall fictions. 
 
 But how this art of Angling did begin, 
 And who the use thereof and practise found ? 
 How many times and ages since have bin, 
 Wherein the sun hath dayly com past round 
 The circle that the signes twice six are in, 
 And yielded yearly comfort to the ground } 
 It were too hard for me to bring about, 
 Since Ovid wrot not all that story out. 
 
 Yet to content the willing reader's eare, 
 I will not spare the sad report to tell, 
 When good Deucalion and his Pyrrha deare, 
 Were only left upon the earth to dwell, 
 Of all the rest that overwhelmed were 
 With that great floud, which in their dayes befell, 
 Wherein the compasse of the world so round, 
 Both man and beast with waters deep were dround. 
 
 Betweene themselves they wept and made great moane 
 How to repair again the. wofull fall 
 Of all mankind, whereof they two alone 
 The remnant were, and wretched portion small, 
 But any means or hope in them was none, 
 That might restore so great a losse withall ; 
 Since they were aged, and in years so run, 
 That now almost their thread of life was spun. 
 
 B Untill
 
 12 THE FIRST BOOKE 
 
 Untill at last they saw whereas they stood 
 An ancient temple, wasted and forlorn : 
 Whose holy fires, and sundry offerings good, 
 The late outragious waves away had born : 
 But when at length down fain was the flood, 
 The waters low it proudly gan to scorn. 
 Unto that place they thought it best to go, 
 The counsel 1 of the goddesse there to know. 
 
 For long before that fcarfull deluge great, 
 The universal earth had overflown, 
 A heavenly power there placed had her seat, 
 And answers gave of hidden things unknown : 
 Thither they went her favour to entreat 
 Whose fame throughout that coast abroad was blown. 
 By her advice some way or mean to find, 
 How to renew the race of humane kinde. 
 
 Prostrate they fell upon the sacred ground, 
 Kissing the stones, and shedding many a tear, 
 And lowly bent their aged bodies down 
 Unto the earth, with sad and heavy chear, 
 Praying the saint with soft and dolefull sound, 
 That she vouchsafe their humble suit to hear: 
 The goddesse heard, and bad them go and take 
 Their mother's bones, and throw behinde their back. 
 
 This oracle obscure and dark of sence, 
 Amazed much their mindes with fear and doubt, 
 What kind of meaning might be drawn fro" thence, 
 And how to understand and find it out, 
 How with so great a sin they might dispence, 
 Their parent's bones to cast and throw about : 
 Thus when they had long time in study spent, 
 Out of the church with carefull thought they went. 
 
 And now beholding better every place, 
 Each hill and dale, each river, rock, and tree, 
 And musing thereupon a little space, 
 They thought the earth their mother wel might be, 
 And that the stones that lay before their face, 
 To be her bones did nothing her disgrace: 
 Wherefore to prove if it were false or true, 
 The scattered stones behinde their backes they threw. 
 
 Forthwith the stones, a wondrous thing to heare, 
 Began to move, as they had life conceiv'd, 
 And waxed greater then at first they were ; 
 And more and more the shape of man receiv'd, 
 
 Till
 
 OF THE SICKETS OF ANGLING. 1 
 
 Till every part most plainly did appeare, 
 That neither eye nor sence could be deceiv'd : 
 
 They heard, they spake, they went, & walked too, 
 
 As other living men are wont to do. 
 
 Thus was the earth replenished anew 
 With people strange, sprung up with little pain, 
 Of whose increase the progeny that grew, 
 Did soon supply the empty world again; 
 But now a greater care there did insue, 
 How such a mighty number to maintain, 
 Since food there was not any to be found, 
 For that great floud had all destroy'd & drown'd. 
 
 Then did Deucalion first the art invent 
 Of Angling, and his people taught the same; 
 And to the woods and groves with them he went, 
 Fit tooles to find for this most needfull game; 
 There from the trees the longest rindes they rent, 
 Wherewith strong lines they roughly twist & frame, 
 And of each crook of hardest bush and brake 
 They made them hooks the hungry fish to take. 
 
 And to intice them to the eager bit, 
 Dead Irogs and flies of sundry sorts he took, 
 And snailes and wormes, such as he found most fit, 
 Wherein to hide the close and deadly hook ; 
 And thus with practice and inventive wit 
 He found the means in every lake and brook, 
 Such store of fish to take with little pain, 
 As did long time this people new sustain. 
 
 In this rude sort, began this simple art, 
 And so remain'd in that first age of old, - 
 When Saturne did Amalthea's horn impart 
 Unto the world, that then was all of gold; 
 The fish as yet had felt but little smart, 
 And were to bite more eager, apt, and bold, 
 And plenty still supply'd the place again 
 Of wofull want, whereof we now complain. 
 
 But when in time the fear and dread of man 
 Fell more and more ou every living thing, 
 And all the creatures of the world began 
 To stand in awe of this usurping king, 
 Whose tyranny so far extended than, 
 That earth and seas it did in thraldome bring : 
 It was a worke of greater pain and skill, 
 The wary fish in lake or brook to kill. 
 
 * 2 So
 
 14 THE SECOND BOOKS 
 
 So worse and worse two ages more did passff 
 Yet still this art more perfect dayly grew } 
 For then the slender rod invented was, 
 Of finer sort then former ages knew : 
 And hookes were made of silver and of brasse,. 
 And lines of hemp and flax were framed new, 
 And sundry baits, experience found out more 
 Then elder times did know or try before. 
 
 But at the last the Iron-age grew neare, 
 Of all the rest the hardest and more scant: 
 Then lines were made of silke and subtile haire 
 And rods of lightest canes and hazell plant, 
 And hookes of hardest steele invented were, 
 That neither skill nor workmanship did want, 
 And so this art did in the end attain 
 Unto that state where now it doth remain. 
 But here my weary Muse awhile must rest, 
 That is not used to so long a way, 
 And breath, or pause a little at the least 
 At this lands end, untill another day, 
 And then again, if so she think it best, 
 Our taken-task afresh we will assay, 
 And forward go, as first we did intend, 
 Till that we come unto our journeys end, 
 
 The end of the First Booke. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOKE. 
 Before I taught what kind of tooles were fit 
 For him to have that would an Angler bee : 
 And how he should with practice and with wit 
 Provide himselfe thereof in best degree: 
 Now doth remain to shew how to the bit 
 The fishes may be brought, that earst were free, 
 And with their pleasing bates intis'd they are 
 To swallow down the hidden hook unware. 
 
 Baits. 
 
 It were not meet to send a huntsman out 
 Into the woods, with net, with gin, or hay, 
 To trace the brakes, and bushes all about, 
 The stag, the fox, or badger to betray :
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 15 
 
 If having found his game he stand in doubt 
 Which way to pitch, or where his snares to lay, 
 
 And with what train he may entice wit hall 
 
 The fearfull beast into his trap to fall. 
 
 So though the Angler have good store of tooles, 
 And them with skill in finest sort can frame j 
 Yet when he comes to rivers, lakes and pooles, 
 If that he know not how to use the same, 
 And with what bait to make the fishes fooles, 
 He may go home as wise as out he came, 
 And of his comming boasts himself as well, 
 As he that from his father's chariot fell. 
 
 Not that I take upon me to impart 
 More then by others hath before been toldj 
 Or that the hidden secrets of this art, 
 I would unto the vulgar sort unfold, 
 Who peradventure for my pains desarr, 
 Would count me worthy Balam's horse to holdj 
 But onely to the willing learner show 
 So much thereof as may suffice to know. 
 
 But here, O Neptune,, that with triple mace 
 Dost rule the raging of the ocean wide, 
 I meddle not with thy deformed race 
 Of monsters huge, that in those waves abide: 
 With that great whale that by three whole dayes space, 
 The man of God did in his belly hide, 
 And cast him out upon the Euxin shore, 
 As safe and sound as he had been before. 
 
 Nor with that Orke, that on Cephsean strand 
 Would have devour'd Andromeda thefaire, 
 Whom Perseus slew with strong and valiant hand, 
 Delivering her from danger and despaire, 
 The hurlpooJe huge that higher than the land, 
 Whose streams of waters spouteth in the aire, 
 The porpois large, that playing swims on hie, 
 Portending storms or other tempests nie, 
 
 Nor that admirer of sweet Musick's sound, 
 That on his back Arion bore away, 
 And brought to shore out of the seas profound, 
 The hippotame that like an horse doth neigh, 
 The mors that from the rocks inrolled round, 
 Within his teeth himselfe doth safe convey: 
 The tortoise covered with his target hard, 
 The tuberone attended with his guard. 
 
 B 3 Nor
 
 16 THE SECOND BOOKE 
 
 Nor with that fish that beareth in his snout 
 A ragged sword his foes to spoile and kill ; 
 Nor that fierce thrasher that doth fling about 
 His nimble fiayle, and handles him at will, 
 The ravenous shark that with the sweepings out, 
 And filth of ships doth oft his belly fill, 
 The albacore that followeth night and day 
 The flying fish, and takes them for his prey. 
 
 The crocodile that weeps when he doth wrong, 
 The hollibut thit hurts the appetite, 
 The turbut broad, the sceale, the sturgeon strong, 
 The cod, and cozzf, that greedy are to bite, 
 The haake, the haddocke, and the conger long, 
 The yellow ling, the milver fair and white. 
 
 The spreading ray, the thornback thin and flat, 
 Theboysterous base, the hoggish tunny fat. 
 
 These kindej of fish that are so large of size, 
 And many more that here I leave untold, 
 Shall go for me, and all the rest likewise, 
 That are the flock of Proteus watry fold : 
 For well I think my hooks would not suffice, 
 Nor slender lines the least of these to hold. 
 I leave them therefore to the surging seas, 
 In that huge depth to wander at their ease. 
 
 And speake of such as in the fresh are found, 
 The little roach, the menise biting fast, 
 The slimy tench, the slender smelt and round, 
 The umber sweet, the graveling good of taste, 
 The wholesome ruffe, the barbell not ?o sound, 
 The pearch and pike that all the rest do waste, 
 The bream, the carp, the chub and chavandar, 
 And many more that in fresh waters are. 
 
 Sit then Thalia on some pleasant banck, 
 Among so many as faire Avon hath, 
 And marke the anglers how they march in rank, 
 Some out of Bristoll, some from healthfull Bath ; 
 How all the rivers sidts along they flanke, 
 And through the meadows make their wonted path 
 See how their wit and cunning they apply, 
 To catch the fish that in the waters lye. 
 
 for
 
 OF THE SECRETS OP ANGLINO. 
 
 For the Gudgion. * 
 
 Loe in a little boat where one doth stand, 
 That to a willow bough the while is tide, 
 And with a pole doth stir and raise the sand, 
 Whereas the gentle streame doth softly slide, 
 And then with slender line, and rod in hand, 
 The eager bit not long he doth abide. 
 
 Well leaded is his line, his hooke but small, 
 A good big cork to bear the stream withall. 
 His bait the least red worme that may be found, 
 And at the bottome it doth alwayes lie; 
 Whereat the greedy gudgion bites so sound, 
 That hoofce and all he swalloweth by and by : 
 See how he strikes, and pulls them up as round, 
 As if new store the play did still supply : 
 
 And when the bit doth die, or bad doth prove, 
 Then to another place he doth remove. 
 
 This fish the fittest for a learner is, 
 That in this art delights to take some paine; 
 For as high-flying hawkes that often misse 
 The swifter fowles .are eased with a iraine, 
 So to a jong beginner yieldeth this 
 Such ready sport as makes him prove againe, 
 And leades him on with hope and glad desire, 
 To greater skill and cunning to aspire. 
 
 For the Roch. 
 
 Then see on yonder side where one doth sit 
 "With line well twisted, and his hook but small 5 
 His cork not big, his plummets round and fit, 
 His bait of finest paste, a little ball,f 
 Wherewith he doth intice unto the bit, 
 The carelesse roch, that soone is caught withall : 
 Within a foot the same doth reach the ground, 
 And with least touch the float straight sinketh down 
 
 And as a skilfull fowler that doth use 
 The flying birds of any kind to take, 
 
 * The gudgion hath his teeth in his throat, (as also the chub) 
 and lives by much sucking 5 he is a dainty fish, like or neere as 
 good as the sparlin. 
 
 f The roch is one of the meanest. 
 
 B 4 The
 
 18 THE SECOND BOOKS 
 
 The fittest and the best doth always chuse, 
 Of many sorts a pleasing stale to make, 
 Which if he doth perceive they do refuse, 
 And of mislike abandon and forsake, 
 
 To win their love again, and get their grace., 
 Forthwith doth put another in the place. 
 
 ?o for the roch more baits he hath beside, 
 As of a sheep the thick congealed bloud, 
 Which on a board, he useth to divide 
 In portions small, to make them fit and good, 
 That better on his hooke they may abide : 
 And of the waspe the white and tender brood, 
 And worms that breed on every herb and tree, 
 And sundry flies that quick and lively bee. 
 
 For the Dace. 
 
 Then look whereas that poplar gray doth grove, 
 Hard by the same where one doth closely stand, 
 And with the winde his hooke and bait doth throw 
 Amid the stream with slender hazell wand, 
 Whereas he sees the dace themselves 4 do show, 
 His eye is quick, and ready is his hand} 
 
 And when the fish doth rise to catch the baite, 
 He presently doth strike, and takes her straight. 
 
 O world's deceit! how are we thrall'd by thee, 
 That dotst thy gall in sweetest pleasures hide? 
 When most we think in happiest state to be, 
 Then do we soonest into danger slide. 
 Behold the fish that even now was free, 
 Unto the deadly hooke how he is tide : 
 So vaine delights allure us to the snare, 
 Wherein unwares we fast intangled are. 
 
 For the Carp. 
 
 But now again see where another stands, 
 And strains his rod that double seems to bend, 
 Lo how he leads and guides him with his hands, 
 Lest that his line should breake, or angle rend, 
 Then with a net see how at last he lands, 
 A mighty carp, and has him in the end, 
 So large he is of body, scale and bone, 
 The rn sod all have like to had been gone. 
 
 Mark
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 19 
 
 Mark what a line he hath, well made and strong, 
 Of Bucephal, or Bayards strongest haire, 
 Twisted with green, or watchet silk among, 
 Like hardest twine that holds th' intangled deare, 
 Not any force offish will do it wrong, 
 In Tyne, or Trent, or Thame, he needs not feare: 
 The knots of every link are knit so sure, 
 That many a pluck and pull they may indure. 
 His corke is large, made handsom, smooth, and fine, 
 The leads according lit and close thereto, 
 A good round hooke set on with silken twine, 
 That will not slip or easily undoe: 
 His baite great wormes that long in mosse have bin, 
 When by his side he beareth in a shooe: 
 
 Or paste wherewith he feeds him oft before, 
 That at the bottome lies a foot or more. 
 
 For the Chub and Trout. 
 
 See where another hides himselfe as slye, 
 As did Acteon or the fearfull deere ; 
 Behind a withy, and with a watchfull eye, 
 Attends the bit within the water cleare, 
 And on the top thereof doth move his flye, 
 With skilfull hand as if he living were.* 
 
 Lo how the chub, the roch, the dace, and trout, 
 To catch thereat do gaze and swim about. 
 
 His rod or cane made darke for being seen, 
 The lesse to feare the wary fish withall, 
 His line well twisted is, and wrought so cleane, 
 That being strong, yet doth it shew but small. 
 His hook not great, nor little, but between, t 
 That light upon the watry brim may fall. 
 
 The 
 
 * Diversely, for the trout is a ravening fish, and at that time 
 of the day comes from his hole, if he comes at all. 
 
 f The trout makes the angler most gentlemanly, and readiest 
 sport of all other fishes : if you angle with a made flye, and a line 
 twice your rod's length or more (in a plaine water without wood) 
 of three haires, in a darke windy day from mid afternoone, and 
 have learned the cast of the flie, your flie must counterfeit the 
 May flie, which is bred of the cod-bait, and is called the water- 
 flie : you must change his colour every moneth, beginning with 
 ft dark white, and so grow to a yellow, the forme cannot so well 
 
 be
 
 2O THE SECOKD BOOKE 
 
 The line in length scant halfe the rod exceeds, 
 And neither cork, nor lead thereon it needs. 
 
 For the Trout and Eele. 
 
 Now see some standing where the stieame doth fall, 
 With headlong course behind the sturdy weer, 
 That overthwart the river like a wall * 
 The water stops and strongly up doth bear, 
 
 And 
 
 be put on a paper, as it may be taught by slight; yet it will 
 be like this forme. 
 
 The head is of black silk or haire, the wings of a feather of a 
 mallart, teele, or pickled hen-wing. The body of Crewel] accord- 
 ing to the moneth for colour, and run about with a black haire; 
 all fastned at the tnile, with the th:ead that fastned the hookeyou 
 must fish in ; or hard by the stream, and have a quick hand, and 
 a ready eye, and a nimble rod, strike with bins, or you lose him. 
 If the winde be rough, and trouble the crust of the water, he will 
 take it in the plaine deeps, and then, and there commonly the 
 greatest will rise. When you have hookt him, give him leave, 
 keeping your line streight, and hold him from roots, and he will 
 tire himselfe. This is the chiefe pleasure of angling. This flie 
 and two linkes among wood, or close by a bush, moved in the 
 crust of the water, is deadly in an evening, if you come close. 
 This is called bushing for trouts. 
 
 Cad bait, is a worme bred under stones in a shallow river, or in 
 some outrunner of the river, where the stream runs not strongly, 
 in a black shale. They stick by heaps on the low side of a great 
 stone, lying hollow. They be ripe in the beginning- of May, they 
 are past with July, they be yellow when they be ripe, and have a 
 black head. This is a deadly bait for "a trout, either aloft, or at 
 the ground ; if your tooles be fine, and you come close, for the * 
 trout of all other fish, is most affrighted with sight. And indeed 
 it would be considered, that fish are afraid of any extraordinary 
 motion or sight what colour so ever, except the pike, which will 
 he open in your sight, on a sun shine day till you haiter him. 
 
 The trout will take also the worme, menise, or any bait ; so 
 will the pike, save that he will not take the fly. 
 
 * The Eele. 
 
 There be divers wayes to catch the wrinkling eele, your line 
 must be stronger six or seven hairs, and your hook according, for 
 she must upon the hooking presently be drawn forth with force, 
 
 otherwise
 
 OF THE SECRETS Off ANGLING. 21 
 
 And at the tailes of mils and arches small, 
 Whereas the shoot is swift, and not too clear, 
 The line in length not twice above an ell, 
 But with good store of lead, and twisted well. 
 
 Round handsom hooks that will not break nor bend, 
 
 The big red worme well scoured is their bait, 
 
 Which down unto the bottom doth descend, 
 
 Whereas the trout and eele doth He in wait, 
 
 And to their feeding busily intend, 
 
 Which when they see they snaich and swallow straight. 
 
 Upon their lines is neither cork nor quill, [still. 
 
 But when they feele them pluck, then strike they 
 
 otherwise she fastens her selfe with her taile about a root or stone, 
 or such like, and so you lose your labour, your hooke, and the 
 fish. The worm or menise is her common bait. 
 
 There is a way to catch eeles by brogling thus: take a rod 
 small and tough, of sallow, hasell, or such like, a yard long, as 
 big as a bean stalk; in the small end thereof make a nick or clift 
 with a knife, in which nick put your strong (but a little) hook 
 baited vsith a red worm, and made sure to a line of ten or twelve 
 good hiires, and but easily that the ee!e may pull it cut, and goe 
 into some shallow place of the river among the great stones, and 
 braggle up and downe till you finde holes under the stones?, and 
 there put in your hook so baited with your rods end, and the eele 
 under the stone will not faile to take your hooke: give her time 
 to put it over, and then if your strength will serve she is your 
 owne. 
 
 There is a third usuall way to catch eeles, called bobbing. 
 Upon a long and double strong thread, two yards long, or thtre- 
 aboute, spit 'so many great red worrnes (gotten in a summer's 
 evening with a candle) as the thread will hold lengthway through 
 the midst, and link them about your hand like a rope, thus: 
 
 And fasten these to a long goads end with a cord as long as your 
 rod, and a great plummet ot lead an handfull above the bob: and 
 in a troubled cr flooded river, in a deep tun, or by a stream side, 
 let it fall within a hand breadth of the ground, and then shall you 
 sensibly feele a multitude of eeles, all in that pit, like so many 
 dogs at a carrion, tug and pull ; now at your good time, when you 
 think that every eele hath got a link and swallowed it up (like so 
 many ducks the intraiies ot a pullet) draw up very easily, and they 
 will follow working and pulling, till you have them near the crust, 
 and then amaine hoyst them to land : this is the readiest way 
 where eeles are plentiful! to catch many. 
 
 For the trout you shall find in the root of a great dock, a white 
 worme with a red head, with this fish for a trout at the ground. 
 
 For
 
 22 THE SECOND BOOKB 
 
 For the Sewant and Flounder. 
 Behold some others ranged all along, 
 To take the sewant, yea the flownder sweet, 
 That to the banke in deepest places throng, 
 To shun the swifter stream that runs so fleer, 
 And lie and feed the brakish waves among, 
 Whereas the waters fresh and salt do meet : 
 
 And there the eele and shad sometimes is caught, 
 That with the tide into the brooks are brought. 
 But by the way it shall not be amisse 
 To understand that in the waters gray, 
 Of floating fish two sundry kinds there is; 
 The one that lives by raven and by prey, 
 And of the weaker sort, now that, now this, 
 He bites, and spoiles, and kils, and bears away, 
 And in his greedy gullet doth devoure, 
 As Scylla's gulfe, a ship within his power. 
 
 And these have wider mouths to catch and take, 
 Their flying prey, whom swiftly they pursue. 
 And rowes of teeth like to a saw or rake, 
 Wherewith their gotten game they bite and chew, 
 And greater speed within the waters make, 
 To set upon the other simple crew, 
 
 And as the greyhound steales upon the haire, 
 So do they use to rush on them unware. 
 Unequall fate, that some are born to bee 
 Fearfull and mild, and for the rest a prey, 
 And others are ordain'd to live more free 
 Without controle, or danger any way: 
 So doth the fox the lambe destroy we see, 
 The lyon fierce, the bever, roe or gray, 
 
 The hawk, the fowl, the greater wrong the lesse, 
 The lofty proud, the lowly poore oppresse. 
 
 For the Pike or Tench. 
 
 Now for to take this kind offish withall, * 
 It shall be needfull to have still in store 
 Some living baits, as bleiks, and roches small, 
 Gudgion, or loch, not taken long before, 
 
 A ycng whelpe, kitlin, or such like, is good bait for a luce. 
 
 Or
 
 OF TJBB SECRETS OF ANGLING. 21 
 
 Or yellow frogs that in the waters crawle, 
 
 But all alive they must be evermore. 
 
 For as for baits that dead and dull do lie, 
 They least esteem, and set but little by. 
 
 But take good heed your line be sure and strong, 
 The knots well knit and of the soundest haire, 
 Twisted with some well coloured silke among, 
 And that you have no need your rod to feare : 
 For these great fish will strive and struggle long, 
 Rod, line and all into the streame to beare. 
 
 And that your hook be not too small and weak, 
 Lest that it chance to stretch, or hap to breake. 
 
 And as in Arden or the mountains hoare, 
 Of Appennine or craggy Alps among, 
 The mastifes fierce, that hunt the bristled boare ? 
 Are harnised with curats light and strong ; 
 So for these fish, your line a foote or more, 
 Must armed be with thinnest plate along, 
 
 Or slender wyre well fastned thereunto, 
 
 That will not slip, nor easily undo. 
 
 The other kinde that are unlike to these 
 Do live by corne or any other seed : 
 Sometimes by crums of bread, of paste, or cheese, 
 Or grashoppers that in green meadows breed, 
 With brood of wasps, of hornets, doars, or bees; 
 Lip berries from the bryar bush or weed. 
 
 Bloud worms and snails, or crawling jentiles small, 
 And buzzing flies that on the waters fall. 
 
 All these are good and many others more, 
 To make fit baits to take such kind offish, \ 
 So that some faire deep place you feed before, 
 A day or two, with pale, with bole, or dish; 
 And of these meats do use to throw in store, 
 Then shall you have them bite as you would wish. 
 
 And ready sport to take your pleasure still, 
 
 Of any sort that you like best to kill. 
 
 Thus serving them as often as you may, 
 But once a week at least it must be done, 
 If that to bite they make too long delaj', 
 As by your sport may be perceived soone : 
 Then some great fish doth feare the rest away, 
 Whose fellowship and company they shun, 
 Who neither in the bait doth take delight, 
 JNor yet would suffer them that would to bite. 
 
 For
 
 THE SECOND BOOKB 
 
 For this you must a remedy provide, 
 Some roch or bleike, as I have shew'd before, 
 Beneath whose upper fin you close shall hide 
 Of all your hooke the better halfe and more, 
 And though the point appear, and may be spi'd, 
 It makes no matter any whit therefore: 
 But let him fall into the watry brim, 
 And downe unto the bottome softly swim. 
 
 And when you see your corke begin to move, 
 And round about to sore and fetch a ring, 
 Sometime to sink, and sometime to swim above, 
 As doth the duck within the watry spring, 
 Yet make no haste your present hap to prove, 
 Till with your float at last away he riing : 
 
 Then may you safely strike and hold him short, 
 And at your will prolong or end your sport. 
 
 But every fish loves not each bait alike; 
 Although sometimes they feed upon the same, 
 But some do one, and some another seeke, 
 As best unto their appetite do frame, 
 The roch, the bream, the carp, the chub and bkik, 
 With paste or corn their greedy hunger tame : 
 The dace, the ruffe, the gudgion, and the rest, 
 The smallest sort of crawling worms love best. 
 The cavender and chub do more delight 
 To feed on tender cheese, or cherries red, 
 Black snailes, their bellies slit to shew their white, 
 Or grashoppers that skip in every mead, 
 The pearch, the tench, and eele do rather bite 
 At great red worms, in field or garden bred, 
 
 That have been scowr'd in mosse or fennel rough 
 To rid their filth, and make them hard and tough. 
 
 And with this bait hath often taken been 
 The salmon fair, of river fresh the best; 
 The shad that in the spring time commeth in, 
 The suant swift, that is not set by least, 
 The bocher sweet, the pleasant flounder thin, 
 The peele, the twear, the balling, and the rest; 
 With many more that in the deep doe lye 
 Of Avon, Uske, ofSeverne, and of Wye. 
 
 Alike they bite, alike they pull down low 
 The sinking corke, that strives to rise again, 
 And when they fetle the sudden deadly blow, 
 Alike they shun the danger and the pain : 
 
 And
 
 OP THE SEGKZTS OF ANGLING. 25 
 
 And as an arrow from the Scythian bow, 
 
 All flye alike into the streame amain, 
 Untill the Angler by his wary skill, 
 There tires them out, and brings them up at will. 
 
 Yet furthermore it doth behove to know, 
 That for the most part fish do seek their food 
 Upon the ground, or deepest bottome low, 
 Or at the top of water stream, or flood ; 
 And so you must your hooke and bait bestow, 
 For in the midst you .shall do little good, 
 
 For heavy things downe to the bottome fall 
 And light do swim, and seidome sinke at all. 
 
 All summer long aloft the fishes swim, 
 Delighted with fair Phoebus shining ray, 
 And lie in wait within the waters dim, 
 For flies and gnats that on the top do play, 
 Then halfe a yard beneath the upper brim, 
 It shall be best your baited hooke to lay, 
 With gnat or flie of any sort or kind, 
 That every moneth on leaves or trees you find. 
 
 But when your line must have no lead at all, 
 
 And but a slender corke, or little quill, 
 
 To stay the bait that down it do not fall, 
 
 But hang a .linke within the water still, 
 
 Or else upon the top thereof you shall 
 
 With quicker hand, and with more ready skill 
 Let fall your flie and now and then remove, 
 Which soon the fish will find, and better love. 
 
 And in the stream likewise they use to be 
 
 At tailes of flood-gates, or at arches widej 
 
 Or shallow flats, whereas the waters free 
 
 With fresher springs, and swifter course do slide: 
 
 And then of waspe, the brood that cannot flic, 
 
 Upon a tile-stone first a little dryed, 
 
 Or yellow bobs turn'd up before the plough, 
 Are chiefest baits, with cork and lead enough. 
 
 But when the golden chariot of the sunne, 
 Departing from our northern countries far 
 Beyond the ballance, now his course hath runne. 
 And goes to warm the cold Antartick star, 
 And summer's heat is almost spent and done, 
 With new approach of winter's dreadfull war: 
 Then do the fish withdraw into the deep, 
 And low from sight and cold more close do keep. 
 
 Then
 
 10 THE THIRD BOOKB 
 
 Then on your lines you may have store of lead, 
 And bigger corkes of any size you will, 
 And where the fish are used to be fed, 
 There shall you lay upon the bottome still, 
 And whether that your bait be corne or bread, 
 Or worms, or paste, it doth not greatly skill, 
 For these alone are to be used than, 
 Untill the spring, or summer come again. 
 
 Thus have I shew'd how fish of divers kind 
 Best taken are, and how their baits to know j 
 But Phoebus now beyond the western Inde, 
 Beginneth to descend, and draweth low, 
 And well the weather serves, and gentle winde 
 Down with the tide, and pleasant stream to row 
 Unto some place where we may rest us in, 
 Untill we shall another time begin. 
 
 The end of the second Booke. 
 
 THE THIRD BOOKE. 
 
 Now fals it out in order to declare 
 
 What time is best to angle in aright; 
 
 And when the chiefe and fittest seasons are 
 
 Wherein the fish are most dispos'd to bite, 
 
 What winde doth make, and which again doth ma* 
 
 The Angler's sport, wherein he takes delight, 
 
 And how he may with pleasure best aspire 
 
 Unto the wished end of his desire. 
 For there are times in which they will not bite, 
 But do forbear, and from their food refrain, 
 And dayes there are wherein they most delight 
 To labour for the same, and bite amain : 
 So he that can these seasons finde aright, 
 Shall not repent his travell spent in vain, 
 
 To walke a mile or two amidst the fields, 
 
 Reaping the fruit his harmlesse pleasure yields. 
 
 And as a ship in safe and quiet road 
 Under some hill or harbour doth abide, 
 With all her fraight, her tackling, and her load, 
 Attending still the winde and wished tide, 
 
 Which
 
 OF THE SECRETS OP ANGLING. 27 
 
 \Vhich when it serves, no longer makes abode, 
 
 But forth into the watry deep doth slide, 
 
 And through the waves divides her fairest way 
 Unto the place where she intends to stayj 
 
 So must the Angler be provided still 
 Of divers tooles, and sundry baits in store ; 
 And all things else pertaining to his skill, 
 Which he shall get and lay up long before, 
 That when the weather framei.li to his will, 
 He may be well appointed evermore, 
 
 To take fit time when it is offered ever, 
 
 For time in one estate abideth never. 
 
 The Qualities of an Angler, 
 
 But ere I further go, it shall behove 
 To show what gifts and qualities of minde 
 Belongs to him that doth this pastime love ; 
 And what the verities are of every kinde, 
 Without the which it were in vain to prove, 
 Or to expect the pleasure he should finde, 
 
 No more then he that having store of meate, 
 
 Hath lost all lust and appetite to eate. 
 
 For what availes the brooke or lake, to goe 
 With handsome rods, and hookes of every sort, 
 Well twisted lines, and many trinckets moe, 
 To rind the fish within their watry fort, 
 If that the minde be not contented so, 
 But wants those gifts that should the rest support, 
 And makes his pleasure to his thoughts agree, 
 With these therefore he must endued be. 
 
 The first is faith, not wavering and unstable, 
 
 But such as had that holy patriark old, Abraham, 
 
 That to the highest was so acceptable, 
 
 As his increase and offspring manifold 
 
 Exceeded far the stars innumerable, 
 
 So must he still a firme perswasion hold, 
 
 That where as waters, brooks and lakes abound, 
 There store offish without all doubt abound. 
 
 For nature that hath made no empty thing, 
 But all her workes doth well and wisely frame, 
 Hath fil'd each brook, each river, lake and spring, 
 With creatures, apt to live amidst the same; 
 Even as the earth, the ayre, and seas do bring 
 Forth beasts, and birds of sundry sort and name, 
 
 c And
 
 2, 
 
 THE THIRD BOOKE 
 
 And give them shape, ability, and sence 
 To live and dwell therein without offence. 
 
 The second gift and quality is hope, 
 The anchor-hold of every hard desire; 
 That having of the day so large a scope, 
 He shall in time to wished hap aspire, 
 And ere the sun hath left the heavenly cope, 
 Obtain the sport and game he doth desire, 
 
 And that the fish, though somrtime slow to bite, 
 Will recompence dayly with more delight. 
 
 The third is love, and liking to the game, 
 And to his friend and neighbour dwelling byj 
 For greedy pleasure not to spoyle the same, 
 Nor of his fish some portion to deny 
 To any that are sickly, weake, or lame, 
 For rather with his line and angle try 
 
 In pond or brooke to do what in him lies, 
 To take such store for them as may suffice. 
 
 Then followeth patience, that the furious 
 Of choller cooles, and passions put to flight, 
 As doth a skilfull rider breake and tame 
 The courser well, and teach him tread aright: 
 So patience doth the minde dispose and framo 
 To take mishaps in worth, and count them light, 
 
 As losse of fish, line, hooke, or lead, or all, 
 
 Or other chance that often may befall. 
 
 The fift good gift is low humility 
 
 As when a lyon eoucheth for his prey, 
 
 So must he stoop, or kneele upon his knee, 
 
 To save his line, or put the weeds away, 
 
 Or lie along sometime if need there be, 
 
 For any let or chance that happen may, 
 And not to scorne to take a little pain 
 To serve his turn, his pleasure to obtain. 
 
 The sixt is painfull strength and courage good, 
 The greatest to incounter in the brooke, 
 If, that he happen in his angry mood 
 To snalch your bait, and bear away your hooke, 
 With wary skill to rule him in the flood, 
 Untill more quiet, rame, and milde he looke, 
 And all adventures constantly to heare, 
 That may betide without mistrust or feare. 
 
 Next
 
 Of THI SECRETS OF ANCLING. 29 
 
 Next unto this is liberality, 
 
 Feeding them oft with full and plentious hand: 
 
 Of all the rest a needfull quality, 
 
 To draw them near the pLice where you will stand 
 
 Like to the ancient hospitality, 
 
 That sometimes dwelt in Albion's fertile land, 
 
 But now is sent away into exile 
 
 Eeyond the bounds of Isabella's isle. 
 
 The eight is knowledge how to find the way 
 To make them bite when they are dull or slow, 
 And what doth let the same and breeds delay, 
 And every like impediment to know, 
 That keeps them from their food and wonted pray, 
 Within the stream, or standing waters low, 
 
 And with experience skilfully to prove, 
 
 All other faults to mend or to remove. 
 
 The ninth is placability of minde, 
 Contented with a reasonable dish, 
 Yea though sometime no sport at all he finde, 
 Or that the weather prove not to his wish: 
 The tenth is thankes to that God, of each kinde, 
 To net and bait doth send both fowle and fish, 
 And still reserves enough in secret store, 
 To please the rich, and to relieve the poore. 
 
 The eleventh good guift, and hardest to endure, 
 Is fasting long from all superfluous fare, 
 Unto the which he must himself innre, 
 By exercise and use of dyet spare, 
 And with the liquor of the waters pure 
 Acquaint himselfe if he cannot forbeare, 
 
 And never on his greedy belly think, 
 
 From rising sun/untill a low he sink. 
 
 The twelfth and last of all is memory, 
 
 Kemembring well before he setteth out 
 
 Each needfull thing that he must occupy, 
 
 And not to stand of any want in doubt, 
 
 Or leave something behind forgetfully: 
 
 When he hath w,ilktlhe fields and brooks about. 
 It were a griefe back to return again, 
 For things forgot, that should his sport maintain, 
 
 Here then you see what kind of qualities 
 An Angler should indued be withall, 
 Besides his skill and other properties ; 
 
 c 2 Te
 
 THE THIRD BOOKE 
 
 To serve his turn, as to his lot doth fall: 
 But now what season for this exercise 
 The fittest is, and which doth serve but small, 
 My muse, vouchsafe some little ayd to lend, 
 To bring this also to the wished end. 
 
 Season and time not to Angle. 
 First, if the weather be too dry and hot, 
 And scalds with scourching heat the lowly plain 
 As if that youthful Phaeton had got 
 The guiding of his father's car again, 
 Or that it seem'd Apollo had forgot 
 His light-foet steeds to rule with steclfast rein, 
 It is not good with any line or hooke, 
 To angle then in river, pond, or brooke. 
 Or when cold Boreas with his frosty beard 
 Looks out from underneath the lesser Beare, 
 And makes the weary traveller afeard 
 To see the vallies covered every where 
 With ice and snow, that late so green appear'd, 
 The waters stand as if of steele they were; 
 And hoary frosts do hang on ever}' bough, 
 Where freshest leaves of summer late did grow. 
 
 So neither if Don vEolus lets go* 
 His blustring windes out of his hollow deep, 
 Where he their strife ;md strugling too and fro, 
 With triple forke doth still in order keep, 
 They rushing forth, do rage with tempests so, 
 As if they would the world together sweep, 
 And ruffling so with sturdy blasts they blow, 
 The tree and house sometimes they overthrow. 
 
 Besides, when shepheard and the swains prepare 
 Unto the brooks, with all their flocks of sheep, 
 To wash their fleeces, and to make them fair, f 
 In every poole and running water deep, 
 
 * The stronger the winde blowes, (so you may abide it, and 
 guide your tooles) and the colder the summer dayes are, the better 
 will they bite, and the closer shall you come to them. 
 
 f I rather thinke the kades and other filth that falls from sheepe 
 doe so glut the fish, that they will not take any artificiall bait. 
 The same is the reason of the floud washing down worms, flies, 
 frog- clocks, &c. 
 
 The
 
 OF THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 31 
 
 The savour of the wooll doth SD impaire, 
 
 The pleasant streams, and plunging that they keep. 
 
 As if that Lethe-flood ran every where, 
 
 Or bitter Doris intermingled were. 
 
 Or when land flouds through long and sudden rain 
 Discended from the hils, and higher ground, 
 The sand and mud the chrystall streams do strain, 
 And make them rise above thrir wonted bound 
 To overflow the fields and neighbour plain, 
 The fruitfull soyle and meadows fair are drown'd, 
 The husbandman doth lose his grasse and hay, 
 The banks their trees, and bridges born away. 
 
 So when the leaves begin to fall apace, 
 And bough and branch are naked to be seen, 
 While Nature doth her former worke deface, 
 Unclothing bush, and tree, of summer's green, 
 Whose sacred spoyles lie thick in every place, 
 As sands on shore, or stars the Poles between, 
 
 And top and bottome of the rivers fill, 
 
 To angle then I also think it ill. 
 
 All winds are hurtfull if too hard they blow, * 
 The wort of all is that out of the east, 
 Whose nature makes the rish to biting slow, 
 And lets the pastime most of ail the rest. 
 The next that coins from count rys clad with snow 
 And Artick pole, is not offensive least. 
 The southern winde is counted best of all, 
 Then that which riseth where the sun doth fall. 
 
 Best time and season to Angle. 
 
 O 
 
 But if the weather stedfast be and clear,f 
 Or overcast with clouds, so it be dry, 
 And that no si^n nor token there appear 
 Of threatning storm through all the empty skie, 
 But that the ayre is calm, and void of fear, 
 Of ruffling windes, or raging tempests high, 
 Or that with milde and gentle gale they blow, 
 Then is it good unto the brooke to go. 
 
 * I finde no difference of windes, except too cold or too hot, 
 which is not the winde, but the season. 
 
 f Cieare cannot be good, by reason of the offensive sight. 
 
 And
 
 32 THE THIRD BOOKE 
 
 And when the floods are falne and past away, 
 And carryed have the dregs into the deep, 
 And that the waters wax more thin and gray, 
 And leave their banks above them high and steep, 
 The milder stream of colour like to whay, 
 Within his bounds his wonted course doth keep, 
 And that the winde is south or else by west, 
 To angle thm is time and season best. 
 
 When fair Aurora rising early shewes* 
 Her blushing face beyond the eastern nils, 
 And dyes the heavenly vault with purple rewes, 
 That far abroad the world with Lrightursse fils, 
 The meadows green are hoare with silver dewcs, 
 That on the earth the sable night distils, 
 
 And chanting birds with merry notes bewray 
 The near approaching of the cheaifull day. 
 
 Then let hifn go to river, brook, or lake, 
 That loves the sport, where store offish abound, 
 And through the pleasunt fields his journy make, 
 Amidst sweet pastures, meadows fresh and sound, 
 Where he may best his choice of pastime take, 
 While swift Hyperion runs his circle round ; 
 And as the place shall to his likii'g prove, 
 There still remain, or further else remove. 
 
 To know each Fishes haunt. 
 
 Now that the Angler may the better know 
 Where he may find each fish he doth require, 
 Since some delight in waters .still and slow, 
 And some do love the mud and slimy mire; 
 Some others wheie the stream doth swiftly flow, 
 Some stony ground and gravell some desire : 
 Here shall ht learn how every sort doth seeke 
 To haunt the layre that doth bis nature like. 
 
 Carp, eele, and tench, do love a muddy ground, 
 Efles under stones or hollow roots do lie; 
 The tench among thick weeds is soonest found, 
 The fearfull carpe into the deep doth flic, 
 Bream, chub, and pike, where clay and sand abound, 
 Pike loues great pooles, and places full of frie : 
 The chub delight* in stream or shady tree, 
 And tender bream in broadtst lake to be. 
 
 Vide p. 500. 
 
 The
 
 OF THE SECRETS OP ANGLING. 3S 
 
 The salmon swift the rivers sweet doth like, 
 Where largest streams into the sea are led: 
 The spotted trout the smaller brook doth seeke, 
 And in the deepest hole there hides his head ; 
 The prickled pearch in every hollow creek, * 
 Hard by the banke, and sandy shore is led, 
 Pearch, trout, and salmon love clear waters all, 
 Green weedy roots, and stony gravell small. 
 
 So doth the billhead, gudgion, and the loach, 
 Who most in shallow brooks delight to bee, 
 The ruffe, the dace, the barbell, and the roch, 
 Gravell and sand do love in lesse degree, 
 But to the deep and shade do more approach, 
 And over head some covert love to see, 
 
 Of spreading poplar, oake, or willow green, . 
 
 Where underneath they lurke for being ssen. 
 
 The mighty luce great waters haunts alway, 
 And in the stillest place thereof dotli lie, 
 Save when he rangeth forth to seek his prey, 
 And swift among the fearfull fish do fliej 
 The dainty humber loves the marley clay, 
 And clearest streams of champion country high, 
 And in the chirfest pooles thereof doth rest, 
 Where he is soonest found, and taken best. 
 
 The cavender amidst the waters faire, 
 
 In swiftest streams doth most himselfe bestow, 
 
 The shad and tweat do rather like the laire 
 
 Of brackish waves, where it doth ebbe and flow, 
 
 And thither also doth the flock repaire, 
 
 And flat upon the bottome lieth low, 
 
 The peele, the muilet, and the suant good, 
 Do like the same, and therein seek their food. 
 
 But here experience doth my skill exceed, 
 Since divers countries, divers rivers have, 
 And divers rivers change of waters breed, 
 And change of waters sundry fish do cravei 
 And sundry fish in divers, places ft-ed, 
 As best doth like them in the liquid wave : 
 So that by use and practice may be known 
 More than by art or skill can well be shown, 
 
 * The trout lies in the deepe, but feeds in the streame, under ft 
 feush, bray, foame, &c.
 
 THE THIRD BOOK.E 
 
 So then it shall be needlesse to declare 
 What sundry kinds there lie in secret store, 
 And where, they do resort, and what they are 
 That may be still discovered more and more : 
 Let him that list no pain nor travell spare 
 To seek them ou.t as 1 have done before, 
 And then it shall not discontent his minde, 
 New choice of place, and change of game to find. 
 
 The lest houres of the day to Angle. 
 
 From first appearing of the rising sun, * 
 Till nine of clock low under water best 
 The fish will bite, and then from nine (o noon, 
 From noone to four they do refrain and rest, 
 From four again till Plicebus swift hath run 
 His dayly cours<% and setteth in the west: 
 But at the flie aloft they use to bite, 
 All summer long from nine till it be night. 
 Now lest the Angler leave his tools behinde 
 For lack of heed, or haste of his desire, 
 And so inforced with unwilling minde, 
 Must leave his game, and back again retire 
 Such things to fetch, as there he cannot fiude 
 To serve his turn when need shall most require: 
 
 Here shall he have to l.rlp his memory 
 . A lesson short, of every wants supply. 
 
 , Light rod to strike, long line to reach withall, 
 Strong hook to hold the fish he haps to hit: 
 Spare lines and hooks, whatever chance do fall, 
 Baits quick and dead to bring them to the bit, 
 Fine lead and quils, with corks both great and small, 
 Knife, file, and thread, and little basket fit, 
 Plummet to sound the depth of clay and sand, 
 With pole and net to bring them safe to land. 
 
 And now we are arrived at the last 
 In wished harbour where we mean to rest, 
 And make an end of this ourjourny past: 
 Here then in quiet road I think it best 
 
 * The morning c.in no way be good, because the fish have been 
 at reliefe all the night, as all other wilde creatures. And on the' 
 4ay they rest or sport j in the evening is the fittest, then hunger 
 begins to bite. 
 
 We
 
 OP THE SECRETS OF ANGLING. 35 
 
 We strike our sailes and stedfast anchor cast, 
 For now the sun low setteth in the west, 
 
 And yet boat -swains, a merry carroll sing 
 
 To him that safely did us hither bring. 
 
 Would'st thou catch Jish ? 
 Then here's thy wish; 
 Take this Receipt 
 To anoint thy Bait. 
 
 Thou that desirest to fish with line and hook, 
 Be it in poole, in river, or in brook. 
 To blisse thy bait, and make the fish to bite, 
 Loe here's a means if thou canst hit it right j 
 Take gum of life, fine beat, and laid to soak * 
 In oyle, well drawn from that which kils the oak: 
 Fish where thou wilt, thou shalt have sport thy fill, 
 When twenty fail, thou shalt be sure to kill, f 
 
 Probatum. 
 
 Ifs perfect and good 
 
 If well understood : 
 
 Else not to be told 
 
 For silver or gold. R. R. 
 
 Certain Observations forgotten. 
 
 Chevan and chub are one. 
 
 {Shottrell, 1 , yeare, A 
 Pickerell, 2, yeare, I 
 Pike, 3, yeare, j 
 Luce, 4, yeare. J 
 
 * I have heard much of an oyntment that will presently cause 
 any fish to bite, but I could never attain the knowledge thereof, 
 the nearest in mine opinion (except this Probatum) is the oyle of 
 an ospray, which is c.lled Aquila marina, the Sea ./Eagle. She is 
 of body neare the bignesse of a goose 5 one of her feet is webM to 
 swim withall, the other hath tallents to catch fish. It seemes the 
 fish come up to her, for she cannot dive. Some likelihood there 
 is also in a pasts made of Coculus Indie, Assa fcetida, hony and 
 wheat flower, but I never tried them, therefore I cannot prescribe. 
 
 f That which kils the oake, I conjecture to be ivy, till I change 
 my minde. 
 
 This excellent receipt divers Anglers can tell where you may 
 buy them. 
 
 D The
 
 SC THE THIRD BOOKE, &C. 
 
 The summer, May, June, and July, are fittest for Angling. 
 
 Fish are the fattest in July. 
 
 Fish commonly spawne at Michaltide. 
 
 After spawning they be kipper, and out of season. 
 
 They tlirmt up little brooks to spawne, the trout and salmon 
 will have lying on their backs. 
 
 All the summer-time, great fish go downwards to deepes. 
 
 Barre netting, and nigh) hooking, v here you love Angling. 
 
 When you angle at ground, your line must be no longer 
 than your rod. 
 
 He that is more greedy of fish then sport, let him have three 
 or foure angles fitted and baited, and layd in severall pooles, 
 you shall some times have them all sped at once. 
 
 If you gn foorth in, or immediately after a showre, and take 
 the water in the first nsirg. and fibh in the strrame at ground 
 with a red worme, you may load your sede if there be a store. 
 Ihus may any botcher kill fisb. 
 
 For want of a panier, spit your fish by the gills, on a small 
 wicker, or such like. 
 
 I use a pouch cr parchment with many severall places to 
 put my hookes and lines in. 
 
 I use a rod of two par is, to joyne in the midst when I come 
 to the river, with two pins, and a little hempe waxed, thus 
 the pins joyne it, the htmpe fastens it firmely. 
 
 A whale-bone made round no bigger than a wheat-straw at 
 the top, }ields well, and strikes well. 
 
 Let your rod be without knots; they are dangerous for 
 breaking, arid boughts aie troublesome. 
 
 Keep your rod ; neither too dry nor too moist, lest they grow 
 brittle or rotten. 
 
 When you angle in drought, wet your rod, it will not break 
 so soone. 
 
 You shall hardly get a rod of one piece, but either crookt, 
 top heavy, or unequall growne. 
 
 Encerprise no mans ground without leave, breake no mans 
 hedge to his losse. 
 
 Pray to God with your hearts to blesse your lawfull exercise.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Angle-Rods, time and method of providing, 2 
 Angler, the qualities of an, 2/, 28, 2Q 
 Angling, objections against answered, 9, 10, 11 
 
 -- poetical fictions concerning, 11, 12, 13 
 seasons and times for, 26, 3O, 31, 34 
 
 best hours of the day for, 34 
 
 Baits, 14, ip, nota. 23, 24, 25 
 
 Carp, directions for taking the, 18 
 Chub, directions for the, 19 
 Cork for Floats, 4 
 
 Dace, directions for taking the, 18 
 
 Eel, directions for taking the, 20, "21 
 
 Fish, to know the haunts of, 32 
 
 Fishing-tools, exclusive of the Angle-Rod, Line, Float, and 
 
 Hook, 6, 7 
 
 Fly, artificial for the Trout, 19, 20 
 Floats, 4 
 Flounder, directions for taking the, 22 
 
 Garment fittest for an Angler, 8 
 Gudgion, directions for taking the, 17 
 
 Hooks, directions concerning, 5, 6 
 
 Lines, 3 
 
 Observations, general, 30 
 
 Pike, directions for taking the, 22, 23 
 
 Roach, directions for taking the, I/ 
 
 Seasons and Times for Angling, 26, 30, 31, 34 
 Sewant, directions for taking the, 22 
 
 Tench, directions for taking the, 22, 23 
 Trout, directions for taking the, 19 
 
 T. Bensley, Printer, 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London.
 
 A 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 FftOM 
 
 THE LATIN OF VANIER. 
 
 BOOK XV. UPON FISH. 
 
 By the late Rev. JOHN BUNCOMBE, 
 
 or c. c. COLL. CAMB. 
 
 WITH 
 
 A BfllEF INTRODUCTION; 
 
 r [ T , 
 
 AWD 
 
 PASSAGES FROM ENGLISH WRITERS, 
 
 i 
 
 SELECTED AS NOTES. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED KOR X. TB1PHOOK, 3J, ST. JAMIs's STREET, 
 18C9.
 
 THE following pages Jorm an article in the 
 CENSURA LITERARIA, lut a few additional copies 
 have been printed for general distribution, 
 
 J.H. 
 
 T. Bensley, Printer, 
 Btk Court, Fleet Street, Londoi.
 
 FISHING. 
 
 FISHING may probably claim origin with the ex- 
 piration of the poet's golden age. When the vitiated 
 palate of man first imbibed the savoury gratification of 
 animal food, the weak and the indolent, alike too 
 supine to share in the fatigues of the chase, contrived 
 the obtainment of a viscous substance by a less labo- 
 rious but more cunning depredation upon the tenants 
 of the deep. As mankind increased in number, and 
 nations were formed, the art became general; nor 
 was the simple character of the fisherman finally un- 
 important. Upon the foundation of the mild doc- 
 trines of the Christian religion an <e astonishing and 
 rapid propagation of it [took place] by a few illiterate 
 tent-makers and fishermen through almost every part 
 of the world." * From that period, in the earliest his- 
 tory of every country, it may be gleaned, that fishing 
 
 * Lecture I. upon the Gospel of St. Matthew, by the present Bishop of 
 London. 
 
 A supplied
 
 supplied a large portion of nutritive sustenance to the 
 various inhabitants, and, in some places, has progres- 
 sively risen from a domestic trade to a material branch 
 of the public revenue by exportation. As a practical art 
 it has experienced little if any alteration for centuries. 
 Instances may be found of the untutored savage exer- 
 cising his adroitness by diving, while the invention of 
 more polished regions is exhibited in the varying mesh 
 and subtle deception of a baited hook. Painters and 
 poets of all periods describe similar modes of destruc- 
 tion. Of our domestic records, upon the research of a 
 late antiquarian, into the sports and pastimes of the 
 people, not any particulars were met with " sufficiently 
 deviating from the present method of taking fish to 
 claim a place in his work."* The following extract 
 is curious, and is one .of the earliest notices upon the 
 subject, which combines the statute and common law 
 of the realm at that period. "If any man fysshe in, 
 the lordes podles or meyres, the lorde maye haue his 
 accyon vpon the statute of Westmynster prinf. [3 Ed. 
 I. C 20 1275.] And yf he fysshe in the rynning and 
 seuerall waters, the lorde may haue his actyon at the 
 confen lawe, & in lykewyse the lordes tenaunt, if any 
 man fysshe in his ferme holde, be it standynge waters 
 and rynninge waters : and where he saythe de omni- 
 bus of commen fysshynges, that is lytell profyte to y e . 
 lorde but to his tenau"tes, except he dwell nighe the 
 sea, and wyll cause his seruant to fysshe there for hym, 
 for y l . is the best confen water y l . any man can fisshe 
 in. And some rynning waters be confen, as lytell 
 
 * Strutf s Sports and Pastimes, p. 7. 
 
 brokes,
 
 3 
 
 brokes, and sytches, and in some rinnyng waters the 
 lordes tenau" tes haue lybertie by custoe" to fysshe with 
 shouenettes, trodenettes, small pytches, and suche 
 other." * To recapitulate the various English writers 
 upon fishing, according to the science of angling, 
 would prove too voluminous for a brief essay. Such 
 an attempt must commence with the " treatyse of 
 fyshynge wyth an angle," of 1496, by Juliana Berners, 
 and after enumerating near two hundred various publi- 
 cations connected with the subject, conclude with the 
 late edition of Walton's Complete Angler, as re-edited 
 by, and with the subsequent additions of Sir John 
 Hawkins, f Several inquiries have been made re- 
 specting 
 
 * Boke of surveyeng and improume~tes, 1523. 
 
 f Although this work [the Complete Angler] seems to be little more 
 than a treatise on fish and fishing, the reader, whether he is a proficient in 
 angling or not, will find abundant entertainment in it. It is written in dia- 
 logue, and is interspersed with several pieces of excellent old English 
 poetry, and discovers such a vein of natural humour, and harmless plea- 
 antry, as has rendered it the delight of the most ingenious for more than a 
 century. The author, Mr. Walton, was intimate with the wits of King 
 James the First's time ; of whom, and of many other remarkable persons, 
 there are, in this edition, many curious anecdotes. Cuts are now added of 
 the principal scenes, designed by Mr. Wale, and engraved by Mr. Ryland, 
 in which the characters are dressed in the habits of the times : which cuts, 
 the reader may be assured, cost, in designing and engraving upwards of one 
 hundred pounds." Bookseller's advertisement of fist edition by Hawkins, 
 from Newspaper July, 1 760. The late edition of this work forms a hand- 
 some volume in quarto, and in two different sizes octavo. The embellish- 
 ments are by Mr. Philip Audinet, who has again copied from the original 
 designs of Wale : to, these are added some portraits, and the fish are engraved 
 from a set of new designs, made for the purpose. 
 
 The following extract from the preface to the experienced Angler (another 
 Id and valuable publication) by Col. Venables, claiming the superiority of
 
 specting the following poem, and there is reason to 
 conclude it is now first printed. The date of the manu- 
 script 
 
 this pursuit over other more expensive diversions is too connected with the 
 present article to be omitted. 
 
 " Hawking and hunting have had their excellencies celebrated with large 
 encomiums by divers pens ; and although I intend not any undervaluing to 
 those noble recreations, so much famed in all ages and by all degrees, yet I 
 must needs affirm, that they fall not within the compass of every one's 
 ability to pursue, being, as it were, only entailed on great persons and vast 
 estates; for, if meaner fortunes seek to enjoy them, Actaeoa's fable often 
 proves a true story, and those birds of prey not seldom quarry upon their 
 masters : besides, those recreations are more iubject to choler and passion, 
 by how much those creatures exceed a hook or line in worth; and indeed in 
 those exercises our pleasure depends much upon the will and humor of a sul- 
 kn cur, or kite (as I have heard their own passions phrase them) which also 
 require much attendance, care, and skill, to keep her serviceable to our 
 ends. Further, these delights are often prejudicial to the husbandman in his 
 corn, grass, and fences; but in this pleasant and harmless Art of Angling, a 
 man hath none to quarrel with but himself, and we are usually so entirely 
 our own friends as not to retain an irreconcileable hatred against ourselves, 
 but can in short time essily compose the enmity ; and besides ourselves none 
 are offended, none endamaged ; and this recreation falleth within the ca- 
 pacity of the lowest fortune to compass, affording also profit as well as plea- 
 sure ; in following of which exercise a man may employ his thoughts in the 
 noblest studies, almost as freely as in his closet ; the minds of anglers being 
 usually more calm and composed than many others, especially hunters and 
 falkoners, who too frequently los; their delight in their passion, and too often 
 bring home more of melancholy and discontent than satisfaction in their 
 thoughts ; but the angler, when he hath the worst success, looseth but a 
 book or line, or perhaps (what he never possessed) a fish, and suppose he 
 take nothing, yet he enjoyeth a delightful! walk by pleasant rivers, in sweet 
 pastures, amongst odoriferous flowers, which gratifie his senses and delight 
 his mind; which contentments induce many (who affect not angling) to 
 choose those places of pleasure for their summer's recreation and health. 
 But peradventure some may alledge that this art is mean, melancholy and 
 insipid : I suppose the old answer, de gust'ibus non ett disputandum, *will hold 
 as firmly in recreations as pafets ; many have supposed angling void of de- 
 light, having never tried it, yet have afterwards experimented it so full of 
 
 content,
 
 script is uncertain, probably about 1750, and from 
 several corrections in the original must have been the 
 translator's copy. Extracts from other works are given 
 as notes, but discussions upon manufacturing flies, or 
 the ingenious torment of threading a live bait, are 
 purposely omitted; yet it is hoped amusement and 
 information will prove sufficiently blended for those 
 notes to be considered rather above the character of 
 (t a string of whiting's eyes.'* 
 
 Vaniere. Book XV. Of Fish. Translated from the 
 Latin. By I. D* of C. C. Coll. Caml. 
 
 Of Fish I sing, and to the rural cares 
 Now add the labours of my younger years. 
 These lays, Lemoignon, your protection claim, 
 Now more improv'd since first they gave me fame j 
 From hence to tend the doves and vines I taught, 
 And whate'er else my riper years have wrought. 
 
 Here, where in pleasing fables I relate, 
 How various bodies were transform'd by fate, 
 
 content, that they have quitted all other recreation (at least in its season) to 
 
 pursue it The cheapness of the recreation abates not its pleasure, but 
 
 with rational persons heightens it ; and if it be delightful the charge of me- 
 lancholy falls upon that score, and if example (which is the best proof) may 
 sway any thing, I know no sort of men less subject to melancholy than 
 inglers ; many have cast off other recreations and embraced it, but 1 never 
 knew any angler wholly cast off (though occasions might interrupt) their 
 affections to their beloved recreation ; and if this art may prove a noble brave 
 rest to my mind, 'tis all the satisfaction I covet." 
 
 * Rev. John Duncombe, of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, Rector of 
 Hearne, Kent, and St. Andrew, with St. Mary Bredman, Canterbury. Ob. 
 Jan. 19, 1786, set. 56. See Gent. Mag. Vol. LVI. pp. 187-451, where 
 this translation is mentioned. Jt is now printed from the copy referred to 
 us in the possession of the lat Mr. Reed. See his Translation of Vaniere's 
 fifth Look in George JefFrcys's Miscellanies, 1754, 4-to. 
 
 Your
 
 Your youthful grandsons may amusement find, 
 Who, Virtue's seeds now rip'ning in their mind, 
 Nor yet in Greek or Roman writers read, 
 But by your life and sage instructions bred, 
 May nourish in their minds the sweet essays 
 Of virtue rising to their grandsire's praise. 
 
 Curson by you was taught to guide the helm, 
 And that, when dead, you may protect the realm, 
 You fashion in their turn his blooming heirs, 
 That, while great Lewis for the world prepares, 
 A line of future monarchs he may view, 
 A line of ministers, prepaf d by you ; 
 Whose names and deeds our annals may adorn 
 In future times and ages yet unborn. 
 
 Whether the place you for your fish provide, 
 High hills with springs surround on ev'ry side, 
 (The work of nature this, and not of art,) 
 Or, lying in a valley, ev'ry part 
 By banks with ease may be sustain'd, in all j 
 Improve the land that to your lot may fall. 
 
 Who dwells on level ground, tho' rais'd with pain, 
 His banks/the waters weight can scarce contain. 
 Yet let him not despair; for wealth and toil 
 Will model to his mind the stubborn soil. 
 Where like a channel you behold a field, 
 Which, tho' it would increase of harvests yield. 
 Will yet, if flooded, still more fruitful grow, 
 Pour in the tide, and let it overflow : 
 Then fish may nibble grass, beneath the flood, 
 Where goats were wont to crop their flow'ry food. 
 
 When now for sixty months the scaly breed , 
 Has kept possession of the watry mead; 
 Drain'd in its turn it will reward the swain 
 For sixty months with more than protnis'd gain; 
 Thus may a valley fish and harvests yield, 
 And now appear a lake, and now a field : 
 
 Water
 
 Water and corn by turns possess the plain, 
 And Ceres now, and now the Naiads reign. 
 
 Lakes for their fishes some on hills prepare, 
 From whence the water with a friendly care 
 Supplies their gardens with refreshing tides; 
 Or, under ground, thro 1 wooden pipes it glides, 
 Till, with a sudden noise it mounts again, 
 And sportful falls in sheets of copious rain. 
 Oft will the streams, o'erflowing, fill the mead 
 With wond'ring nations of the scaly breed; 
 The fish exulting wanders o'er the plain, 
 And now admires the grass and now the grain; 
 Deep in the spacious furrows lies conceal'd, 
 Or crops the floating herbage of the field ; 
 Till, left to perish in the mud, too late 
 He sees his error, and bewails his fate. 
 By Vice's stream a youth, thus hurry 'd o'er 
 Fair Virtue's bounds to paths unknown before, 
 With transport follows where soft pleasure leads, 
 And roves thro' flow'ry but forbidden meads: 
 But, when his joys are like a torrent fled, 
 Sad .he reviews the life that once he led; 
 Now, tho' too late, he struggles to retire, 
 But still remains and flounders in the mire; 
 Till, by experience vainly render'd wise, 
 He sees his folly and repenting dies. 
 
 In hollow depths of rocks the fish delight, 
 The cooling shade t' enjoy and shun the sight; 
 Be thou indulgent te the finny race 
 And after nature's model, form the place; 
 But since the stream, unable here to flow, 
 Will often stagnate and corrupted grow; 
 Rather let shelt'ring trees o'ershade the flood; 
 But then the leaves, when shaken from the wood, 
 Should with the current down the river swim, 
 Lest by corrupting they defile the stream. 
 
 Let
 
 8 
 
 Let rivers therefore from the mountains flow, 
 To change the water of your lakes below. 
 Fish, by the river brought, your ponds receive, 
 Which with the stream, when they attempt to leave, 
 To bar their flight a fence of hurdles place, 
 Thro' which the stream may flow ; the finny race, 
 Struggling in vain, becomes an easy prize, 
 And still pursues the stream with eager eyes. 
 No place for fish is more convenient found, 
 Than moats which do your house's walls surround; 
 For here the mazes of the stream they trace, 
 And chuse in Winter's cold, a sunny place, 
 Or to the house's friendly shade repair 
 As oft as summer suns inflame the air: 
 Be mindful thou the hungry race to feed, 
 The fish themselves in their own cause will plead j 
 And, rising to the surface of the flood, 
 With hungry gaping jaws demand their food. 
 Let then your children crums of bread bestow, 
 Or bits of biscuit from their windows throw, 
 From whence they may behold their sportive play, 
 And see how greedily they snatch the prey. * 
 
 Sometimes 
 
 * " One, like a pirat, only liues of prizes, 
 That in the deep he desperatly surprises : 
 Another haunts the shoar, to feed oa foam ; 
 .Another round about the rocks doth roam, 
 Nibbl'ng on weeds ; another, hating thieuing, 
 Eats nought at all, of liquor only liuing j 
 For the salt humor of his element 
 Serues him, alone, for perfect nourishment. 
 Som loue the clear streams of swift tumbling torrents, 
 Which, through the rocks straining their struggling current*, 
 Bieuk banks and bridges, and doo r.euer stop, 
 Till thirsty sommer come to drink them vp ; 
 Some almost alwayes pudder in the mud 
 Of sleepy pools, and neuer brook the flood 
 
 Of
 
 Sometimes your servant scraps from table brings, 
 
 Or meat your cook into the water flings : 
 
 Fish sometimes yield to fish a lich repaste, 
 
 And sons insatiate on their fathers feast. 
 
 You grains of corn may scatter, and survey 
 
 Your fish engag'd in battle or in play; 
 
 Or, if in sport and shooting you delight, 
 
 With pleasure here at home, conceal'd from sight, 
 
 May use by turns your arrows and your gun, 
 
 Safe from the show'rs and from the scorching sun ; 
 
 Whether they sportive leap into the air, 
 
 Or to the surface of the stream repair. 
 
 Ponds for your fish wherever you provide, 
 
 They with fresh store in spring should be supply'd j 
 
 In spring the male with love's soft flames inspir'd, 
 
 And in defiance of the water fir'd, \ 
 
 Can scarce perceive the change; and, big with young, 
 
 A num'rous breed the female bears along ! 
 
 Now o'er the neiglib'ring streams extend your nets, 
 And throw your lines, well furnish'd with deceits; 
 Join scarlet colours, which, expos'd to view, 
 *Fish thro' the water greedily pursue ; 
 And as a skilful fowler birds employs, 
 Which, by their well-known voice and treach'rous noise, 
 Allure their fellows and invite to share 
 Their fate, entangled in the viscous snarej 
 So fish, when taken, other fish allure; 
 Who, seeing them, grow dauntless and secure: * 
 
 But 
 
 Of crystal! streams, that in continuall motion 
 Bend tVard the bosom of their mother Oceiin." 
 
 Sylvester's Da Bartas, fth clay. 
 
 * " Dialogo. xlviii. Of a Fissher and a lytyll Fissh. A fissher as he 
 fcshed he cawghc a lytell fissh and whan he wolde haue kylled him he spake 
 amlsayde. O gentyll fi.ishsr haue mercy vj>pr>n me, for yf fhou kyl me thou 
 
 halt
 
 IO 
 
 But not thro' studied malice they betray, 
 
 But by our art deceive the finny prey: 
 
 This may be pardon'd in a silent race,, 
 
 Who cannot warn their friends of the deceitful place : 
 
 Man only with premeditated mind 
 
 Betrays his brethren, and ensnares mankind. * 
 
 If 
 
 shall haue but little auauntage of me. But & if thou wile suffre me to go fre 
 and delyuer me from this daunger & captiuitie, I promise to God and to the, 
 that I shall cawse the to haue greate wynnynge, for I shal retourne vnto the 
 daylye withe greate multitude of fisshes and I shall !ede them into thy 
 nettis. To whom the fissher sayd. How: shall I mowe knowe the emonge so 
 many fisshes. Then sayd y. fissh. Cut of a lytell of my tayle that thou 
 mayst know me emong all othir. The fissher gaue credence to his woordis 
 and cut of his tayle and let him go. This lytel fissh was euer vncurteys, for 
 contrary to his promyse he lettyd the fissher as oftyn as he shulil fih, and 
 withdrew; ye. fisshes from him and sayd. Faders and worshipfull senyoun 
 be ye ware of that deceyuar for he deceyuyd me, & cut of my tayle, and so 
 shall he serue you if ye be not ware, and, yf ye beleue not me, beleue his 
 workis that apere vpon me. And thus saynge the fissh shewed them his 
 tayle that was cut. Wherfor the fisshes abhorryd y e . fiyssher and fled from 
 him in al possible haste. The fissher vsid no more fysshinge, wherfore he 
 leuyd in great pouerte. Of fortune it happid so that a long while aftir the 
 fissher cawght agayne the same fissh emong othir ; and whan he knew him, 
 he kylled him cruelly and saycie 5 
 
 He that hath a good turn and is vncurteys agayn, 
 Jt is veray rightfull that he be therfore slayne." 
 
 'The Dialoge* of Creatures Morglysed, af fly ably and edlficatyjly, to euery 
 mery andiocunde mater, of late translated cut ofLatyn into our Englyssbe tonge 
 right profit alle to tie gouernaunce cf man. And tbey be to sell, -vfcn Poivlyt 
 Cburcbe Yarde. 4?*. . d. Has a prologue and table. Interspersed with 
 many wood cuts. Folded in fours, and extends to I. I. iiij. Col. Thus 
 tnditb the Dlaloges of Creatures moralised, &c. ut supra. 
 
 * Though this duplicity is nurtured by the factitious wants of a crowded 
 eity, it seldom inti udes upon the hovel of industry 5 yet the pillow of weary 
 labour is not unvisited by the baneful dreams of gold. 
 
 " Two ancient fishers in a straw-thatch'd shed, 
 Leaves were their walls, and sea-weed was their bed, 
 
 Reclin'd
 
 II 
 
 If in the stream a craggy rock there lies, 
 Thither the finny race for shelter flies : 
 This from the rising water may be known, 
 Which breaks in bubbles, by the fishes blown ; 
 
 Reclin'd their weary limbs : hard by were laid 
 
 Baskets, and all their implements of trade, 
 
 Rods, hooks, and lines, compos'd of stout horse-hair*, 
 
 And nets of various sorts, and various snares, 
 
 The seine, the cast-net, and the wicker maze, 
 
 To waste the watery tribes a thousand ways : 
 
 A crazy boat was drawn upon a plank j 
 
 Matts were their pillow, wove of osier dank; 
 
 Skins, caps, and rugged coats, a covering made ; 
 
 This was their wealth, their labour, and their trade f 
 
 No pot to boil, no watch dog to defend, 
 
 Yet blest they liv'd with penury their friend. 
 
 [The one relates.] 
 
 Methought I sat upon a shelfy steep, 
 
 And watchM the fish that gambol'd in the deep ; 
 
 Suspended by my rod, I gently shook 
 
 The bait fallacious, which a huge one took ; 
 
 (Sleeping, we image what awake we wish; 
 
 Dogs dream of bones, and fishermen offish ;) 
 
 Bent was my rod, and from his gills the blood 
 
 With crimson stream distain'd the silver flood. 
 
 1 stretch'd my arm out, lest the line should break ; 
 
 The fish so vigorous, anJ my hook so weak ! 
 
 Anxious I gaz'd ; he struggled to be gone ; 
 
 * You're wounded I'll be with you, friend, anon' 
 
 1 Still do you tease me?' for he plagu'd me sore j 
 
 At last, quite spent, I drew him safe on shore, 
 
 Then grasp'd him with my hand for surer hold, 
 
 A noble prize, a fish of solid gold. 
 
 Go search the shoals, not sleeping, but awake, 
 
 Hunger will soon discover your mistake ; 
 * Catch real fish ; you need not sure be told 
 
 Those fools must starvs who only dream of gold." 
 
 Fawkes's Theocritus, Idyl. xxi. 
 
 If
 
 13 
 
 If rocks deny, let art retreat bestow, 
 And leafy branches in the water throw. 
 Now when the fish, invited by the food, 
 Frequent the shade, hang nets around the flood, 
 And drawing down the stream your boughs, convey 
 Into your flaxen snares the finny prey. 
 Then leafy boughs and branches place again, 
 And with fresh arts a fresh supply obtain. 
 Tubs, which to lakes your captive fishes bear, 
 Should at the top admit the vital air ; 
 And if a brook or spring is in the way, 
 With cooling draughts refresh the thirsty prey. 
 
 Various of waters, as of soils, the kind ; 
 Some stagnant, others running there you'll find, 
 The bottom fill'd with oose, and mud, and here 
 Sand mixt with golden gravel will appear.* 
 
 * " The fish of lakes, and motes, and stagnant ponds 
 
 (Remote from ssa, or where no spring commands, 
 
 And intermingling its refreshing waves 
 
 Is tench unto the mote, and tenches saves 
 
 And keeps them medical) are or ail sorts 
 
 Lesse innocsnt, unless some river courts 
 
 The sullen nymph, and blending waters, she 
 
 Of a foul Mopta's made Leucotboe. 
 
 Her inmates otherwise, like herself, smell, 
 
 Taste of the harbour (that is) scent not well} 
 
 Slow to digest : alive, they iiv'd to close, 
 
 And dead they can't their native dulness lose. 
 
 Give me a salmon, who with winged fins 
 
 'Gainst tide and stream fiiks o're the fishing-gins 
 
 Of locks and hives, and circling in a gyre 
 
 His vaulting corps, he leaps the baffled vvyre. 
 
 Let fish have room enough and their full play, 
 
 Ko liquor want, not on a Fish-itreet day." 
 
 Edmund Gaytcn's Art of Longevity, 1659. 
 
 In
 
 '3 
 
 In lakes where the dull waters ever sleep, 
 
 You perches,* bleaks, and salmon-trout, f may keep, 
 
 Who 
 
 * " Of the meruayles and wondres of Wales. 
 
 Ther ben hylles in snowdonys 
 
 That ben wonderly hye ; 
 
 With heyght as grete awaye, 
 
 As a man maye go a daye : 
 
 And kete eriri on Walsshe, 
 
 Snowy hylles in Englysshe : 
 
 In these hylles ther is 
 
 Leese inough for all beestes of Walij. 
 
 The hylles on coppe beres, 
 
 Two grete fysshe weres ; 
 
 Conteyned in that one ponde, 
 
 Meueth with the wynde an Ilonde, 
 
 As though it dyde swymme, 
 
 And neyheth to the bpymme : 
 
 So that heerdes haue grete wonder, 
 
 And wene y l . the worlde meueth vnder. 
 
 In that other is perche and fysshe, 
 
 And eueryche one eyed is." PoSychronicon. 
 
 f Extract from lines on taking a salmon, 1787. 
 O bliss divine ! 
 
 A salmon flound'ring at ray line '. 
 Sullen, at first he sinks to ground, 
 Or rolls in circles round and round } 
 .Till, more inflamed, he plunging, sweep*, 
 And from the shallows seeks the deeps ; 
 The bends the rod, the winch then sings, 
 As down the stream he headlong springs; 
 But, turned with fiercer rage, he boils, 
 And tries indignant all his wiles ; 
 Yet vainly tries, his courage flown, 
 And all his mighty powers gone, 
 I wind him up with perfect ease, 
 Or here, or there, or where I please ; 
 Till quite exhausted now he grows, 
 And now hi* silver sides he shews ; 
 Nor one faint effort more he tries, 
 But near my feet a captive liesj 
 
 His
 
 Who on their backs as many colours show, 
 As heav'nly Iris on her painted bow. 
 With these the smelt and smaller turbot place, 
 And tench, the fav'rites of the vulgar race, 
 With slipp'ry eels which may be caught with ease 
 Descending from the rivers to the seas; 
 For as each year the wand'ring swallow flies 
 The southern suns and more indulgent skies; 
 So when rough northern blasts the rivers freeze, 
 The tender eel, of cold impatient, flees 
 To the warm sands and caverns of the seas; * 
 And thence returns in summer as before, 
 To the cool streams and shelter of the shore. 
 Chuse then a place to practise your deceit, 
 Where rocks reduce the river to a strait. 
 So that the stream may flow, when thus confin'd, 
 With force to turn a mill and corn to grind: 
 Then near the flood gates in a narrow space, 
 Hard of access, with reeds enclose a place; 
 The bending osiers will with ease allow 
 The stream retiring thro' the chinks to flowj 
 
 His tail I grasp with eager hand, 
 
 And swing, with joy, my prize on land.". 
 
 * The tackle must be adapted to the season, but the angler may remain 
 
 indifferent as to the wind ; " So (as one instructor gravely adds) that h 
 can cast his bait into the river." The planetary influence upon fish is alluded 
 to by Gower, in the Confessione Amantis, 1554. 
 
 " Beiiethe all other stont the moone, 
 
 The whiche hath with the sea to doonef 
 
 OFfloodes highe, and ebbes lowe, 
 
 Vpon his chaunge it shall be knowe, 
 
 And euery fiss'ne, whiche hath a shtlle, 
 
 Mote in his gouernance dwelle, 
 
 To wexe and wane in his degree, 
 
 As by the moone a man mai see." 
 
 But,
 
 But, in the wicker prison w ill detain 
 
 Theslipp'ry eel descending to the mainj 
 
 By whom a time for flying will be chose, "\ 
 
 When now the stream a safe return allows, L 
 
 And swoln with winery show'rs o'er all its borders flows. I 
 
 But, as a leader, who attempts to go 
 
 By night in secret, to elude the foe, 
 
 Will find the foe prepar'd to stop his flight, 
 
 And equally befriended by the night : 
 
 So with the fisherman, with timely care 
 
 In muddy streams the flying Eel ensnare, 
 
 And nets to stop the fugitive prepare. 
 
 The Carp, the native of th' Italian Lar, * 
 And Whiting standing waters will prefer j 
 And Blease, and Umbles, like an ancient trout, 
 Tho' weak in fight, yet threatning with their snout j 
 For tho' sharp teeth in triple ranks are shown, 
 Whole nations fly before the pike alone; 
 Fierce to destroy with blood the stream he stains ; 
 For courage, and not strength, the conquest gains, f 
 
 The 
 
 * Venice is described in Porchas's Pilgiimes, as 
 a ricbe toun of spicery : 
 
 And of alle other marchandise also, 
 And right well vitelet therto ; 
 And namely of fresche water fische, 
 Pike, Eile, Tench, Carpe, I wis: 
 
 Vol. II. p, 1236, Ed. i6zs. 
 
 " The Carp is a stately, and very subtle fish, stiled the freth water fox, 
 nd queen of i ivers ; he is originally of foreign growth ; Mr. Mascall a Sus- 
 tex gentleman, having the honour of first bringing them hither, about the 
 year 1524, Ann. Reg. 15 Hen. VIII. Dr. He>lin ioforms us that, 
 
 Reformation, turkeys, carps, hops, und beer, 
 Came all into England in the same year. % 
 
 .And as Sussex had the first, so dots it at this time abound with more 
 rps than any other county." Whale Art if Fish ng, 1714. 
 
 f " The pike it the pirate of the lake, that roves and preyes upon the 
 
 little
 
 i6 
 
 The Carp which in th' Italian seas was bred, 
 With shining scraps of yellow gold is fed : 
 Tho* chang'd his form, his avarice remains, 
 And in his breast the love of lucre reigns. 
 For Saturn flying from victorious Jove, 
 Compell'd of old, in banishment to rove 
 Along th' Italian shore, a vessel found 
 Beyond the lake of wide Benacus bound j 
 He, for his passage, at a price agreed, 
 And with large gifts of gold the master fee'd. 
 But he the master (Carpus was he nam'd) 
 With thirst of gain, and love of gold inflam'd ; 
 Prepar'd in chains the passenger to bind, 
 But to the god his face betray'd his mind, 
 And from the vessel in revenge he threw 
 Into the waves the pilot and his crew$ 
 
 little fishermen of that sea, who is o covetous and cruell, that he gives n 
 quarter to any; when hee takes his prize hee goes not to the shore to make 
 his market, but greedily devom-es it himselfe ; yea, is such a cormorant, that 
 he will not stay the dressing of it. He is called the wolfe of the water, but 
 is indeed a monster of nature ; for the wolfe spares . his kinde, but hee will 
 devoure his own nephewes ere they come to full growth. Fie is very gallant 
 in apparell, and seemes to affect to go rather in silver than in gold, wherein 
 he spares for no cost j for his habit is all layd with silver plate downe to the 
 foot in scallop Vise. Hee is a right man of warre, and is so slender built, 
 and drawes so little water, as hee will land at pleasure, and take his prey 
 where he list; no shallop shall follow where hee will lead. The pikes them- 
 selves are the taller ships, the pickerels of a middle sort, and the Jacks, the 
 pinnaces amongst them, which are all armed according to their burden. The 
 master or pilot sits at the prore, yet hath he the rudder so at commajid, that 
 hee can winde and turne the vessell which way he will in the twinkling of 
 an eye. He sets up but little sayles, because he would not bee discovered 
 who he is, yea, many times no sail at all, but he trusts to the finnes, his 
 oares. The youthfuller sort of pikes, whom through familiarity they call 
 Jacks, are notable lacldes indeed, and to their strength and bigness will fish 
 as their fathers will. In a word, a man would easily bee mistaken in him 
 in beholding him so handsome and gentle a creature, and never imagin him 
 to be half so ravenous as he is ; but fronti nulla fides." A strange meta- 
 mrf hosts of mar, transformed intt a wildirncsst. 1634. 
 
 Then
 
 Then into fish the traytors he transform'd, 
 The traytors, still with love of lucre warm'd, 
 The sailing ship for golden fragments trace, 
 And prove themselves deriv'd from human race. * 
 
 If running waters overflow your lakes, 
 There best the barbel f thrive with speckled backs; 
 And roach, which shoot as swiftly thro' the flood 
 As arrows, flying from the bending wood; f 
 
 From 
 
 * To the tale oflucre respecting the carp, may b not Inappropriately at- 
 tached " a controuersie of a conquest in loue 'twixt Fortune and Venus." 
 
 Whilst fissher kest hii line the houering fish to hooke, 
 By hap a rich man's daughter en the fissher ket hir looke. 
 Shee fryde with f ran tick lout, they marid eke at last : 
 Thus fissher was front lowe estate in top of treasure plast. 
 Stoede fortune by and smylde : 'how say you, dame,' quoth shee 
 To Venus, ' was this conquest yoar's, or is it due to mee?* 
 ' 'Twas I (quoth Vulcan's wife) with help of Cupid's bowe, 
 That made this wanton wench to rage, and match hi* selfc so low*.' 
 ' Not so, 'twas Fortune I, that brought the trull in place; 
 And fortune was it that the man stoode so in mayden's grace; 
 By fortune fell their loue, 'twas fortune strake the stroke j 
 Then detter is this man to mee that did the match prouoke." 
 
 Epitaphes, Epigrams, &c. by George Turbervile. 
 j- it Timorous barbels will not taste the bit 
 
 Till with their tayls they haue vnhooked it : 
 And sll the bayts the fisher can deuise, 
 Cannot beguile thejr wary jealousies." 
 
 Sylvester's Du Bartas. 
 
 J .1 like as the litle roch 
 
 Must either be eat, or leap upon the shore, 
 
 When as tie hungary pickerell doth approch, 
 And there finde death which it escapt before. 
 
 Baldwin's Owen Glendour, Mirrour for M. 1575. 
 
 A somewhat unfair and rapacious mode of fishing is occasionally adopted 
 by anglers, who lay several rods, and have an increased number of gentles 
 attached to each float ; for which practice the only excuse ii poor Cunning. 
 hand's apology for breaking the sabbath, " the dinmer lying at the bottom of 
 
 B the
 
 From whence of darts they have obtain'd the name; 
 The mullets also love a living stream, 
 
 With 
 
 the river." To such marauders the following humourous ballad U ap- 
 plicable. 
 
 You that fish for Dace and Roches, 
 Carpes or Tenches , Bonus neches, 
 Thou wast born* be twee ne two dishes, 
 When the Fryday signe was fishes. 
 Angler's yeares are made and spent, 
 All in Ember weekes and Lent. 
 
 Breake thy rod about thy noddle, 
 Throw thy wormes and fliet by the pottl, 
 Keepe thy corkt to stop thy bottle, 
 Make straight thy hooke, aad be not afeard, 
 
 To share his b?ard ; 
 That in case of started stitches 
 Hooke and line may mend thy breeches. 
 He that searchss pools and dikes, 
 Halters Jackes, and strangles Fikes, 
 Let him know, though he think he wise if, 
 'Tis not a sport but an ac sizes. 
 Fish to tooke, were the case disputed, 
 Arc not tooke, but executed, 
 
 Breake thy rod, &c. 
 You whose pastes fox rivers throat, 
 And make Isu pay her groat, 
 That from May to parch October, 
 Scarce a Mi new can slepe sober. 
 Be your fish in oven thrust, 
 And jour owne Red-paste the crust. 
 Brtake thy rod, &c. 
 
 Hookes and lines of larger sizes, 
 . Such as the tyrant that ti-oules devises, 
 
 Fishes nere be'.eive his fable, 
 What he calls a line is a cable ; 
 That' i a kna e of endlesse rancor, 
 Who for ajiooke dcth cast an uoktr 
 JJreakc thy rod, Ac. 
 . 
 
 But
 
 19 
 
 With powts which in the muddy bottom lie; 
 Menows, which constant stores of eggs supply; 
 Lotes, on whose chins long hairy bristles grow; 
 And skates and wide-mouth'd lampreys, which below 
 Resemble eels, but gape like frogs above; 
 With fragrant fish,* which murm'ring fountains love, 
 Sweet to the smell like thyme's delightful flow'r; 
 Gudgeons who gravel greedily devour; 
 Perch like sea mullets both in taste and smell, 
 And pollards which within with prickles swell ; 
 With gaping sheaths, and plaise, whom, if their snouts 
 Were less obtuse, we might mistake for trouts. f 
 
 In either stream the carp contented dwells', 
 With plenteous spawn thro' all the year she swells, 
 
 But of all men he is the cheater, 
 Who with small fish takes up the greater, 
 He makes carpes without all dudgeofl, 
 Make a Jonas of a gudgen 3 
 Cruell man that stayes on gravell 
 Fisji that great with fish doth travel!. 
 Breakt thy rod, &c. 
 
 Llewellyn's Men Miracles, Sec. 1656. 
 
 * Thymalius. 
 
 J- -< The pike, the roach, the cheuea and the dace, 
 The bream, ihe burble with his bearded face, 
 The pearch, the gudgeon, and the siluer eele, 
 Which millers taken in their ozier weele, 
 Dwell in the riier as principall fish, 
 And giuen to Pan to garnish thy dish ; 
 The salmon, trout, flounder and creuise, 
 Dee dwell in riuers where the menow is. 
 The princely carpe, and med'cinable tenc'i, 
 la bottom of a roole themseluci doe uen,b. v 
 
 Brton" Ouran'a. 
 
 And
 
 20 
 
 And in all places and all seasons breeds, 
 In lakes as well as rivers : hence proceeds 
 The name of Cyprian, which the Cyprian darae 
 Bestow'd ; the French to carp have chang'd the name. 
 Of all the fish that swim the wat'ry mead, 
 Not one in cunning can the carp exceed. 
 Sometimes when nets enclose the stream, she flies 
 To hollow rocks, and there in secret lies : 
 Sometimes the surface of the water skims, 
 And, springing o'er the net, undaunted swims j 
 Now motionless she lies beneath the flood, 
 Holds by a weed, or deep into the mud 
 Plunges her head, for fear against her will, 
 The nets should drag her and elude her skill : 
 
 ^r* 
 
 Nay, not content with this, she oft will dive 
 
 Beneath the net, and not alone contrive 
 
 Means for her own escape, but pity take 
 
 On all her hapless brethren of the lakej 
 
 For rising, with her back she lifts the snares, 
 
 And frees the captives with officious cares j 
 
 The little fry in safety swim away, 
 
 And disappoint the nets of their expected prey.* 
 
 No other fish so great an age attain, 
 
 For the same carp, which from the wat'ry plain 
 
 The Valois* seated on the throne survey 'd, 
 
 Now sees the sceptre by the Bourbons sway'dj 
 
 * Thus Montaigne relates of the Scarut " having swallowed the fisher's 
 hooke, his fellowes will presently flocke about him, and nibble the line in 
 sunder; and if any of them happen to be taken in a bow-net, some of hij 
 fellowes turning his head away, will put his taile in at the neck of the net, 
 who with his teeth fast holding the same, never leave him, vntil they have 
 pulled hin out. The Barbie fishes, if one of them chance to be engaged, 
 will set the line against their backes, and with a fin tkey have, totthed like 
 a sharp saw, presently saw and fret the sane asunder." Floriii trtmlatiort 
 of Jdontagnfs. Essays, 1613, p. 2,66. 
 
 He
 
 He now beholds the children, and admires 
 
 Their dress and customs so unlike their sires. 
 
 What greater wonder would he now express "} 
 
 Did he but know what signal triumphs bless > 
 
 Our arms, thro' all the world attended with success ? J 
 
 Tho' age has whiten'd o'er the scaly backs 
 Of the old carp which swim the royal lakes ; 
 They, neither barren, nor inactive, grow, 
 But still in sport the waves around 'em throw : * 
 
 Here 
 
 * The Dialogue of Creatures moralised, being one of the scarcest works 
 of early typagraphy, another extract may amuse. " Dialojo xlvi. Of a 
 fyssh callyd a carpe, and a fissh called Tymallus. It happyd in a greate 
 aolempne feste, fisshes of the floode walkyd togidre aftyr dynar in great tran- 
 quillyte and peace for to take ther recreacyon and solace ; but the carpe began 
 to trowble^he feste, erectynge hym self by pryde & saynge, I am worthy to 
 be lawdyd aboue all othir, for my flesshe is delicate and swete more then it 
 can be tolde of. I haue not be nourished nothir in dychesse, nor stondyngh 
 watyrs, nor pondes ; but I haue be brought vppe in the floode of the greate 
 garde. Wherfore I owe to be prynce and regent amonge all yowe. Ther is 
 a fissh callyd Tymallus, hauinge his name a flowre, for Timus is callyd a 
 flowre j and this Tymallus is a fissh of the see, as saith Isidore, Ethimologi- 
 arum, xii. and allthoughe that he be fauoureable in sight and delectable in 
 taste, yet moreouir the fyssh of bym smelly th swete lyke a flowre and geuith 
 a pleasaunte odour. And so this fyssh Tymallus, heringe this saynge of the 
 carpe, had greate seorne of him and sterte forth & sayde : It is not as thou 
 sajste, for I shine more bright then thowe, and excede the in odowre and 
 relece. Who may be. comparyd vnto me, for he that fyndith me hath a great 
 tresowre. If fhowhaue thy dwellynge oonly in the watir of garde, I haue 
 says abydynge in many large floodes. And so emeng them were great 
 stryuia and contencyons. Wherfore the feste was tournyd in to great trowble, 
 for some fauowryd the parte of the one and some of the othir, so that be 
 lyklyhode there shuld haue growen greate myschefe emonge them : fer euery 
 of them began to snak at othir, & wolcle haue torne eche other on smale 
 pecys. Ther was monge all othir a fissh callyd Truta euyr mouyd to breke 
 itiyfe; and soo thys tvowte for asmoche as she was agid, and wele lernyd, 
 he spake and gayde : Bredryn, it is not good to stryue & fight forvayne 
 lawdattwris and praysers ; for I prayte not my self though some person!* 
 
 think*
 
 Here safe tfee depths no longer they explore? 
 But, their huge bulk extending near the shore, 
 Take freely from our bands what we bestow, 
 And grace the royal streams at Fountainbleau: 
 But, chiefly they rejoice, when, near the side. 
 Great Lewis walks, and as in youthful pride, 
 Strong both in body and in mind remains, 
 And all youth's vigour ev'n in age retains: 
 We could not think he sixty years had rejgn'd, 
 Did we not count our gains by sea and landj 
 Or view his grandsons round the monarch stand. 
 
 Tho' the rich pike, to entertain your guest, 
 Smokes on the board and decks a royal feast; 
 Yet must you not this cruel savage place 
 In the same ponds that lodge the finny race: 4 
 In the same tow'r you might as well unite, 
 The fearful pigeons and the rav'nous kite; 
 In the same yard the fox with chickens keep, 
 Or place the hungry wolf with harmless sheep. 
 For he, the tyrant of the wat'ry plains 
 Devours all fish, nor from his kind abstains; 
 
 thioke tne worthy to be commendid ; for L is wryttyn, the mowth of an othir 
 man mote commende the and not thyn o'.vne, for all commendacycn and 
 lawde of hyna self is fowle in ye. mouih of the spekar. Therefor* bettyr hit 
 ii that those that prayie them self gc3 togider to the see iugs, that is, the 
 Dol]>hyr., which. 1$ a iuste iugc and a rightfull and dredinge god, for he shall 
 rightfully determjn this mater. This counsell pletyd them well, and forth 
 went these twayn togider vnto theDolphyn and shewyd to him all ther 
 myndes, and to ther power ccmendid the" self. To whom the Dolphyn- 
 sayde : childr<n, I ncuyr saws yowe tell this tyme, for ye be alwaye hydde in 
 the tioodesj and 1 am sto-inge in the great \vawys f the see ; wherfcre I 
 cannot gyue ryghtfull sentence betwene yowe, but yf I first assaye and make 
 a taste c "yowe. And thus jaynge , he gaue a sprynge and swalowyd them I* 
 both f-'.'o, and sayde, 
 
 Noman owith hym stlf to comruende, 
 
 Aboue all other, taste he orTende.' 
 
 Unless
 
 Unless hoarse frogs infest the fenny place } 
 For then he feasts on the loquacious race; 
 Dragg'd from the filthy mud, they croak in vain, 
 And with loud babblings ev'n in death complain. 
 Or when a goose sports on the azure wave, . 
 Delighting in the stream her limbs to lave, 
 Or dips her head, and with a clam'rous sound, 
 Provokes the rain, and throws the water round j 
 The pike arrests the fowl with hungry jaws, 
 /aid to the bottom of the river draws j 
 Nay, as a boy in the smooth current swims, 
 His teeth he fixes in his tender limbs. * 
 
 * Sir John Hawkins, in his notes on Walton, has given several sfories of 
 the voracity of this fish. The diurnal?, which seldom neglect to propa- 
 gate the marvellous, in the year 1800 related, that " a yearling calf wa 
 heard to make an uncommon noise by the side of the river Blackwater, 
 where it had been drinking ; on going up to it, there was a large pike hang- 
 ing to its nostrils, which had seized the calf while it was drinking, and 
 which the animal had dragged about fifty yards from the river. One of the 
 people disengaged them, by striking the pike with a stone which killed it. 
 There were found in the belly of this voracious fish, a large rat, a perch 
 tntire, besides part of several other fish. The pike weighed 35 pounds.'* 
 The conclusion of the story, proving there wai no provocative from hunger, 
 renders the veracity of the first part doubtful ; otherwise similar relations 
 have been made. A common-sized Jack, placed by mistake on the wrong 
 ide of the diviiion in a keep, destroying in a few hours near thirty gudgeons, 
 (a small brace of perch escaping) is a circumstance within my own know- 
 ledge i but, whatever may be its propensity ,for the gudgeon, the reader 
 must dtcida the credit due to a newspaper of 1801 for the following story. 
 " A party angling at Sunbury, one of them sa. across the head of the boat, 
 as a puishment inflicted on him for wearing his spurs. Anether having 
 aught a gudgeon, stuck it on one of the spurs, which he not perceiving, in 
 about a few minutes a large jack bit at the gudgeon, and the spur being 
 crane- necked, entingled in the gills of the Jack, wh'ch, in attempting to 
 extricate itself, actually pulled the unfortunate peison out of the boat, lie 
 was with difficulty dragged on shore, ; nd the fish taken, which was of a pro- 
 digious size." 
 
 The
 
 24 
 
 The trout loves rivers in obscure retreats ; 
 Thrown into standing water, she forgets 
 Her former beauty, and neglects her love, 
 And all the flesh will then insipid prove j 
 From hence remember, with a timely care, 
 For trout a running water to prepare: 
 Near some wide river's mouth a place provide, 
 And with smooth grass and turf adorn the side; 
 Let the clear bottom shining gravel show, 
 And gently murm'ring o'er smooth pebbles flow. 
 This situation always grateful proves, 
 For still the trout a murm'ring current loves, 
 And still the same desires her bosom warm, 
 Nor has she chang'd her manner with her form : * 
 
 For 
 
 * The following extract from a modern poem disguised with antiqur 
 cmblance, is too appropriate to the history of the trout to be omitted. 
 " When atop the hoary western hill, 
 
 The ruddie sun appears to rest his chin, 
 When not breeze disturbs the murmuring rill, 
 And mildiie warm the falling dewes begin, 
 The gamesome trout then hows her silverie skin, 
 As wantonly beneath the wave the glides, 
 
 Watching the buzzing flies, that never blin, 
 Then, clropt with pearle and golc'e, displays her sides, 
 Whils she with frequent leape the ruffled streams divides. 
 
 On the green bank a truant school- boy stands ; 
 
 Well has this urchin mark* her mery play, 
 Ami ashen rod obeys his guileful hunds, 
 
 And leads the mimick fly across her way ; 
 
 Askaunce, with listly look and coy delay, 
 The hungrit trout the glitteraund treachor eyes, 
 
 Semblant of life, with speckled wings so gay; 
 Then, slyly nibbling, prudish from it flies, 
 'Till with a bouncing start she bite* the truthless price. 
 
 Ah, then the younker gives the fate full twitch ; 
 Struck with amaze she feels the hok ypright 
 
 Dfepe
 
 For once she liv'd a nymph of spotless fame 
 
 In an obscure retreat, and Truta was her name. 
 
 It chanc'd that in a flow'ry path she stray 'd, 
 
 Where a clear river with the pebble play'd, 
 
 And just disturb'd the silence of the shade. 
 
 Truta now seated near the spreading trees, 
 
 Enjoys the coolness of the passing breeze; 
 
 In the clear stream she casts her modest eyes, 
 
 And in a fillet her fair tresses lies. 
 
 While in this solitude she thus remains, 
 
 And dies her beauteous face with various stains ; 
 
 It chanc'd the robber Lucius, thro' the shade, 
 
 With eager eyes perceiv'd the lonely maid ; 
 
 He saw and lov'd her riches, on her face, 
 
 For both her dress and form appear'd with equal grace. 
 
 The nymph now heard the rustling with affright; 
 
 She saw a man, and trembled at the sight; 
 
 Swiftly along the winding shore she fled, 
 
 And cry'd, and vow'd, and call'd the gods to aid. 
 
 Truta despairing sought, with trembling speed, 
 
 A rock that overlooked the wat'ry mead j 
 
 Hither she bent her course, the summit gain'd, 
 
 And thought her virtue now might be maintain'd 
 
 Dcepe in her gills, and, plenging where the beech 
 Shaddowi the poole, she runs in dread affright; 
 In vain the deepest rocke her laie delight, 
 In rain the sigy nook for help she tries ; 
 
 The laughing elfe now curbs, now aids her flight, 
 The more entangled still the more she- flies, 
 And soon amid the grass the panting captive lies. 
 
 Where now, ah pity ! where that sprightly play, 
 
 That wanton bounding, and exulting joy, 
 That lately welcom'4 the retourning ray, 
 
 When by t>e riv'lets banks, witn klubhes eof, 
 April walk'd forth ah ! never more to toy 
 In purling streams, she panti, sh* gasps, and dies!" 
 
 MickU's Syr Martyn, Ca. I. 
 
 Cheaply
 
 26 
 
 
 
 Cheaply with loss of life: while here she stood/ 
 And just prepar'd to leap into the flood, 
 Lucius approach'd, and while he held behind 
 Her flow'ry vest, that flutter' d in the wind, 
 Chang'd into fish an equal fate they bore, 
 And though transform'd in shape, yet, as before, 
 The pike of slaughter fond and fierce appears, 
 And still the trout retains her female fears ! 
 Beauty and virgin modesty remains, 
 Diversify'd with crimson tinted stains ; 
 And, once the fairest nymph that trod the plain, 
 Swims fairest fish of all the finny train. * 
 
 Not pikes alone defile the streams with blood, 
 But over all the brethren of the flood, 
 Perpetual discord bears tyrannic sway, 
 And all the stronger on the weaker prey. 
 As among men the great the small oppress, 
 And still the same confusion and distress, 
 Which in the city and the forest reign, 
 . Distract the tenants of the wat'ry plain. 
 Banish'd from earth, peace could not find a place 
 Beneath the streams, among the finny race; 
 But, since for want they otherwise would die, 
 Regard this fury with indulgent eye. 
 Why need I mention all the waste of blood, 
 Which the fierce ctter causes in the flood} 
 Among the willows secretly he lies, 
 And from the shore surveys, with eager eyes, 
 
 * " To observe the ravenous disposition of the pikr, the sociable con 
 iition of the trout, the various discolouring of the polypus, the strong di- 
 gestion of the porpoise, would beget in the curious surveyors of nature, much 
 admiration. And then to compare the natures of these water inhabitants 
 with ourselves, who follow, for most part, the bent of our desires, as if we, 
 were estranged from that beauty which incomparably most adornei us, and 
 drenhed In the leas of our owne corruptions, which makes man most unlike 
 himselfe, by idolatriiing that which gives the greatest blemish to hh excel-' 
 knee." Braitbwait'i Nursery far Gentry, 1638. 
 
 The
 
 The sport or battles of the wat'ry breed, 
 
 And swiftly swimming with resistless speed, 
 
 Defeats the hostile bands, and makes the warriors bleed. 
 
 Few deaths assuage the hunger of the foej 
 
 No bounds his hate and savage fury knowj 
 
 The fish he bowels 1 , stains the stream with blood, 
 
 And mangled bodies float upon the flood : 
 
 The otter heaps in caverns of the shore 
 
 The fish half eaten and besmear'd with gorej 
 
 Of slaughter proud, he there delights to dwell, 
 
 And the long night enjoys the nauseous smell. 
 
 Snares for the beast, and gin.?, let others lay, 
 
 Or into traps by tempting ba'.ts betray j 
 
 But you with missive weapons in your hand, 
 
 Conceal'd from view behind a thicket stand j 
 
 And while on fraud he muses on the shore, 
 
 Or tir'd returns with jaws besmear'd with gore, 
 
 The felon slay, and throw into the flood 
 
 His wounded body for your fishes food: 
 
 But first tear off the skin (for fear your fry "I 
 
 Should from the dead, as from the- living fly,) I 
 
 Which some rich matron will rejoice to buy. 
 
 If you should find the young ones, steal away, 
 
 Jn th' absence of the dam, the tender prey, 
 
 And by his youthful years yet pliant, breed 
 
 The gentle otter to the fishing trade j 
 
 For when suspended in the stream you place 
 
 Your flaxen snares, to catch the finny race, 
 
 He will explore each cavern and retreat, 
 
 And rouse the fish, and hunt them to the net:* 
 
 As 
 
 * " It is a very crafty and subtill beast, yet it is sometimes tamfcd, and 
 rsed in the northern parts of the world, especially in Scahdinauia to driue 
 the fishes into the fuhei men's nets : for so great is the sagacity and scence of 
 amtling in this beast, that he can directly winde the fithct in the waters a 
 
 mile
 
 As dogs drive trembling stags into the iiare r 
 Or by the scent pursue the fleeting hare. 
 
 In these amusements while I pass the day, 
 Autumnal hours roll unperceiv'd away ; 
 When tir'd of town and study, I retreat, 
 My honour'd friend, * to thy fair country scat; 
 Where you with all the rural sports invite, 
 But most with mirth and attic wit delight j 
 For tho' your seat, which from the neighb'ring stream 
 Derives its name, is first in my esteem j 
 Yet, in your absence, nor the flow'ry beds, 
 Nor silver floods can please, nor painted meads, 
 Nor ev'n the stream which in a mournful strain 
 Appears with me to murmur and complain j 
 No longer now the verdant laurel grove, 
 Where oft, in contemplation wrapt, I rove, 
 Can without you poetic thoughts inspire, 
 Or reconcile me to the tuneful quire. 
 When pleasure to the plains returns with you, 
 Together oft we take delight to view 
 Th' obsequious otter, thirsting after blood, 
 Chase thro' the stream the natives of the flood; 
 Or near the stew, which with a bounteous hand 
 Your ancestors prepar'd, together stand 
 
 mile or two ofF, and therefore the fishers make great aduantage of them, yet 
 do they forbears his vse because he deuoureth more then needetb, for he is 
 neuer so tamed that he forgeteth his old rauening ; being tamed, on the land 
 
 he is very full of sport and game The flesh of this beast is both 
 
 cold and filthy, because it feedeth vpon stinking fish, and therefore not fit to 
 be eaten. Tragus writeth that this notwithstanding is dressed to bee eaten 
 in many places of Germany. And I hear that the Carthusian fryeri, or 
 monkes (whether you wil,) which are forbidden to touch al rnaner of flesh, 
 of other foure-footed beasts, yet are they not prohibited the eating of ottets," 
 Edward Tof sell's Il'.ittrie of fe-vn- footed btas'.es. 1 6c 7 . 
 
 * Duke de Ressegeuer. 
 
 
 
 To
 
 29 
 
 To see him dive for food, and joyful draw 
 
 The gasping captives from his bloody jaw. * 
 
 Among 
 
 * Could an animal be thus tutored for use on the sea coast, in addition t 
 the amusement, it would save many qualms to the summer excursionist. 
 ' Whyle gale of wynde the slacke sayles filles full strayte, 
 
 He leaning ouer hollow rocke doth lye, 
 
 And either his beglled hookes doth bayte, 
 
 Or els beholdes and feeles the pray from hye } 
 
 The trembling fish he feeles with line extent, 
 
 And paised hand," Hercules Furem, i$Si. 
 
 This is a pigmy's mimic of the 
 
 " day (a day as fair as heart could wish) { , _ . 
 
 JVben giant stood on shore of sea to fish j 
 
 For angling rod, he took a sturdy oake, 
 
 For line a cable, that in storm ne're broke ; 
 
 His hook was such as heads the end of pole, 
 
 To pluck down hoase, ere fire consumes it whole j 
 
 His hook was baited with a dragon's tail, 
 
 And then on rock he stood, to bob for whale $ 
 
 Which strait he caught, and nimbly home did paek 
 
 With ten cart load of dinner on his back." 
 
 The last lines, with trifling alteration are inserted in the Poetical Works 
 of Dr. King, born 1663, but certainly not the production of that facetious 
 writer. They are copied from the mock romance printed with " The Loves 
 of Hero and Leander, and other choice pieces of drollery, &c." 1/553. From 
 a ballad in the same collection, which appears to have been made on the 
 setting fire to London-bridge, the following humourous stanzas are selected, 
 " Into the chips there fell a spark 
 Which fut out in such flames, 
 That it was known into Southwark, 
 Which lives beyond the Thames. 
 
 For Ice the bridge was wondrous bigk, 
 
 With water underneath, 
 O're which as many fishes fly, 
 
 As birds therein doth breath. 
 
 And yet the fire consum'd the bridg, 
 
 Not far from place of landing ; 
 And though the building wts full big, 
 
 It fell down not with stan<Ii*g. 
 
 And
 
 3 
 
 Among the sportive tenants of the lake, 
 Wide havoc water-rats and beavers make : 
 These foes with subtlety alone pursue : 
 If from the shore you at a distance view 
 A beaver plunge into the stream, in vain 
 You'll hope by darts a conquest to obtain ; 
 The conscious robber dives beneath the flood, 
 Nor to the bank returns where late he stood. 
 
 If reeds and rushes should your lakes infest, 
 Cut not away the heads and leave the rest; 
 The stems corrupt, if suffered to remain, 
 And from the roots fresh crops appear again : 
 But with a little skiff destroy the reeds ; 
 With gloves upon their hands some hold the heads, 
 With stretch'd-out arms, against the adverse waves; 
 While others row with oars; or with long staves 
 The boat together with the rushes strove, 
 And to the shore the reedy forest move. 
 , Since nothing to the natives of the flood 
 Is more destructive than the want of food, 
 Throw grains of corn, or scatter crumbs of bread, 
 And if, of some unknown distemper dead, 
 You chance to find a sheep, or in the yoke 
 An ox should yield to death's untimely stroke, 
 To feast your hungry fish their bodies throw, 
 Or pounded acorns and cheap pulse bestow ; 
 With figs by constant show'rs corrupted grown, 
 And apples from the trees untimely blown : 
 For famine will compel the wat'ry breed 
 Like beasts on flesh, on grass like sheep to feed, 
 With fruit like birds to fill their hungry maw, 
 And on their kind to rush with greedy jaw. 
 
 And eke into the water fell, 
 
 So many pewter dishes ; 
 That a man might have taken up very wall 
 
 Both boyld and roasted fishes." 
 
 The
 
 The eel, swift-gliding thro' the wat'ry plain, V 
 
 Devours the fry, and smaller finny trai, s. 
 
 And smelts, and gudgeons, seek the shore in vain. J 
 In bulk with years while other fishes rise, 
 Why gudgeons, loach, and smelts are small in size, 
 And still the old continue dwarfs, relate 
 The rise, ye Muses, of the minim state. 
 Where, with a tardy current, near the sea, 
 The Po in slow meanders takes its way, 
 A band of children on the borders stood, 
 Engag'd in play, and in the silver flood 
 Threw stones, which, sliding on the wat'ry plain, 
 Now seem to sink and now emerge again. 
 Beneath the stream the sisters of the sea V 
 
 Then listening sat to Clio's tales, whom she V 
 
 Amused with amours of absent Ephire. j 
 
 When jEgle first the dashing pebbles heard, 
 She at the surface of the stream appear'd, 
 Enjoin'd the boys to leave the river's side, 
 And added threats; they bold her threats defy'd. 
 And casting impious stones, in scorn they cry ; 
 tf Lo, thus to your complainings, we reply !" 
 JEgle, affrighted soon return'd again, 
 And filling with her shrieks the wat'ry plain; 
 " Ye gods shall this audacious crew," she cries, 
 " Who me with taunting words and stones defies, 
 Escape unhurt? shall youth their crime excuse? 
 No age unpunish'd must the gods abuse! 
 Call then a monster from the neighb'ring main, 
 To wreak our vengeance on the impious train." 
 She said, and Ocean to the sisters gave 
 A dreadful form, which rose above the wave. 
 The boys beheld and trembled at the sight, 
 And try'd to fly, but fear arrests their flight; 
 
 Breathless they fell, their limbs the monster tore, 
 
 And in the river cast 'em from the shore j 
 
 Then
 
 Then shook his head, and in the silver flood 
 Wip'd from his dropping jaws the streaming blood. 
 The nymphs the slaughter saw and heard the cries, 
 And feasted with revenge their eager eyes. 
 What female heart but may by youth be gain'd ? 
 And beauty in the boys that still remnin'd 
 Like a fair flow'r which yielding to the share 
 Reclines its drooping head, but still continues fair. 
 How credulous is Love ! * they see the shore 
 O'erspread with bodies, all besmear'd with gore, 
 Yet hope by fear they fell, and signs of life explorej 
 
 Their 
 
 1 
 
 * Flecknoe, in the character of a young female enamorist, says, " it is with 
 lovers as it is vrith anglers, who feed fishes till they are caught, but caught 
 once, feed on them ; so it will be long enough ere she bite at the bait, unless 
 he has more to bait her with than fine words or lamentable compliments." 
 Upon the subject of love the angler's muse seldom drags a simile from the 
 tackle; or floats the lines in a stream of sorrow to bait a barbed hook with 
 a gentle heart. Turbervile introduces an allusion to the art, where he write* 
 in disprayse of Women that allure and loue not." 
 
 " That troupe of honest dames 
 
 those Grisels all are gone} 
 No Lucrece now is left aliue, 
 
 ne Cleopatra none. 
 Those dayes are all ypast, 
 
 that date is fleeted by : 
 They myrrors were, dame Nature made 
 
 hir skilful hande to try. 
 Now course of kinde esrchaungde 
 
 doth yeeld a woorser graine, 
 And women in these latter yares 
 
 those modest matrones staine. 
 Deceit in their delight, 
 
 great fraude in friendly lookes : 
 They spoyle the fish for friendship's sake, 
 
 that houer on their hookes. 
 They buye the baite to deare 
 
 tht so their freedome loze 5 
 And they the more deceitfull are, 
 
 that to tin craft and gloze." The
 
 S3 
 
 Their hands the heart, no longer beating, try, 
 
 Or their fair fingers ope th* unwilling eye; 
 
 Another seeking whether yet the breath 
 
 Hangs on the lips, nor quite extinct by death, 
 
 Joins her's to thejr's, compassionately kind, 
 
 And leaves, unseen, a tender kiss behind. 
 
 But these their cares were vain, for death's cold hand, 
 
 Had clos'd the eyes of all the youthful band; 
 
 And now their weeping ghosts were seen to gain 
 
 The darksome realms of Pluto's dreary reign : 
 
 With pray'rs and tears stern Charon they implore, 
 
 To take and waft them to the Stygian shorej 
 
 And if or youth or beauty could prevail, 
 
 His breast had melted at their mournful tale. 
 
 The nymphs, with pity mov'd, the gods implor'd 
 
 That to their bodies life might be restor'd ; 
 
 The contrariety of love is also thus depicted in the sign Cancer, fourth 
 fcook of Palengenius, translated by Barnaby Googe. 
 
 " <i if so be that loud weare not 
 
 by Cod's aduisement right, 
 To euery man apoynted here, 
 
 by limites parted iust: 
 No dout of al might one be louad, 
 
 and on them all should lust, 
 And euery man might safe en'ioy 
 
 the damsel that he likes : 
 But as the fisher doth not take 
 
 the fishes all in dikes ; 
 Nor foulers all the birdes do catch, 
 
 nor hunters all do kill; 
 But euery one his chance doth take, 
 
 obtaines, and hathe his will ; 
 So, loue to euery one is dele 
 
 by God's arbitrament ; 
 So doth the ssruaunt, base, ful oft 
 
 hii lad* wel content." 
 
 C But
 
 34 
 
 But when their pray'rs the gods no longer heard, 
 They draw 'em in the stream to be interr'd: 
 Soon as their lifeless limbs had touch'd the wave, 
 Another form they to the children gave : 
 Each hand contracted in a fin appears, 
 And the rough skin a scaly substance wears; 
 The form of a hook'd tail united, took 
 Their feet and legs ; the tenant of the broofc 
 To stem the adverse waves unceasing tries ; 
 Resembling youth in manners and in size. 
 For these are always small : by turns we see 
 They sport and fret, now quarrel, now agree ; 
 And still like what they were before remain, 
 Peevish in play, yet loath to leave the train. 
 Now to the caution of the Muse attend, 
 Your fish from nightly robbers to defend; 
 Boards at the bottom arm'd with spikes prepare. 
 To catch the net and disappoint the snare. 
 But those are most destructive, who, with food,. 
 Throw poison mixt or lime into the flood; 
 Soon as infected, tortur'd with the pain, 
 The fish shoots swiftly thro' the wat'ry plaia ; 
 Or giddily in various circles swims, 
 And just the surface of the water skims, 
 To fan his lungs with draughts of vital air, 
 And cool the scorching heat that rages there. 
 But still the pois'nous drugs his breast torment; 
 And now his strength is gone, his vigour spent; 
 Now he sucks in his last remains of breath, 
 Supinely floating on the waves in death. 
 Ev'n the dire author of the mischief grieves, 
 When, for a paltry gain, he thus perceives 
 The lakes exhausted of their scaly breed, 
 And blames the arts from whence such ills proceed. 
 
 Now
 
 35 
 
 Now that your stew-ponds may with ease afford 
 Supplies of fish, well-fatted for your board, 
 With a slight wall a narrow place enclose, 
 Where the full river from its channel flows j 
 The tinkling of the stream, or sav'ry bait, 
 Will tempt the fish to try the sweet deceit j 
 The wickers opening readily admit 
 The breed, but never their return permit: 
 Here to your captives plenteous dainties throw, 
 Which soon will thrive and fit for table grow. 
 
 Some few years past, as all good Christians feed 
 In spring-time only on the scaly breed; * 
 
 Let 
 
 * " Fishes are like their element, and place 
 
 Wherein they live, both cold and moist, a ract 
 
 Of flegmatic creatures, yet they are meat 
 
 Which dry and choleric tempers may well eat ; 
 
 And those who would look smug, or else snout-fair, 
 
 May take this liver-cooling dish for fare. , v 
 
 In fervid seasons, and in climates hot 
 
 Use them : but if the Beare the helm hath got, 
 
 Or under Charles his seven-starr'd heavy wane, 
 
 From this dull nourishment let them refrains.' 
 
 Sweet river-fishes slimy, and gross diet, 
 
 Are glibbery, and make egression quiet, 
 
 More nourishing than sea-fish, and of these, 
 
 Those (which the current streams and gravel please, 
 
 And do abhorre annoyances of sinks, 
 
 Which spoil their channels with their loathsome stinks) 
 
 Are most delicious, such as pearch and trout; 
 
 Your mud-fish all incline you to the gout. 
 
 But those delighting in sweet scowres, refine 
 
 Their squamy sides, and clarifie their line." 
 
 Gayton's Longevity. 
 
 Another remedy against the dearth of things, especially victuals, *is to 
 restore the vse of fish to the ancient credit and estimation : and hereupon 
 Boditie takelh occasion to commend our custome of England for obseruing 
 ish dayet in the wccke. And for effecting of the like in Fraunce, he pro- 
 
 poundeth
 
 3 6 
 
 "Let out the water from your open'd lake, 
 And all the finny race in baskets take : 
 The water rushes out, the dams and mounds 
 Reraov'd, thro* valleys and o'er stones resounds, 
 
 poundeth the example of the prince and magistrate whom the people wHI 
 Imitate. We may wish that both the one and the other were duly executed 
 or obserued, whereby fishing would be better maintained) and most especially 
 the nauigation : and flesh would in some seasons of the yeare be vsed more 
 commodiously, and better for the health of man. The great number of all 
 torts and kinds offish according to the obseruation of the Romaines (noted 
 by Maister Bodine) ought to moue vs thereunto ; fish being so pure a 
 creature, that were it not, that we see the same subiect vnto diseases, it 
 vrold be very doubtful), whether the same amongst other creatures was cursed 
 for man's transgression, the scripture speaking only that the earth was 
 cursed therefore : considering also the prouerbe, as sound as ajlsb ; and if 
 any be subiect to diseases it is fish of riuers, or of standing waters and fish- 
 ponds, which may be cured by strawing much parsley into the water. And 
 because that flesh and fish are two principal! things for the food of man, 
 and that our purpose is not to omit any thing, that inckiently may be 
 handled for the good of the commonwealth, therefore will it not be exorbi- 
 tant the rule of our methode to discourse somewhat thereof. The best sea- 
 ion of the yeare to eate fish is from September -vntill March, if we will 
 regard the goodnesse of the fish : howbeit that for the increase of beasts, we 
 are commanded with great reason and consideration, to eate most fish in 
 March and Aprill, when he loseth his taste. The fresh fish of riuers is of 
 more digestion, and better for sicke persons ; but the sea-fish is of more 
 nourishment. All fish being moisrand cold of nature, is qualified by the 
 addition of salt, and being eaten with much bread cannot do any hurt, 
 especially vnto cholericke persons, with whose complexion it agreeth best. 
 And whereas all other creatures do first decay and putrifie in the belly, the 
 fish doth first putrifie in the head : for no otherr reason, but that hauing 
 only one gtit the meate doth easily passe the same, without digestion or cor- 
 ruption ; which by staying long with other creatures causeth putrifaction r 
 aa argument that fish is more heal thfull then flesh, howbeit that (through 
 the continual! vse) flesh is more agreeable with our nature." England's 
 view, in the vnrnasking of tvro paradoxes: toith a replication vnto tht 
 tmrsatr of JMoiitrr lohn Bodint, by Gtrrard dt Maljnes, Merchant. Oet. 
 1603. 
 
 And
 
 37 
 
 And swells the streams admiring, without rain, 
 To see their waves roll swiftly to the main. 
 
 Meanwhile the wand'ring fish swims up and down 
 Confus'd, and when the stream is almost gone, 
 Still follows the remains j whom, from the lake 
 Sliding, the wicker snares a captive make : 
 Here with his much-lov'd stream, his life he leavei, 
 And his last parting breath the air receives. 
 
 Lest the whole breed should undistinguish'd die, 
 Take the small fish that at the bottom lie, 
 In a new pond the little wand'rers place j 
 And there preserve the hopes of all the race. 
 They swim snrpris'd, the vacant lakes survey, 
 And all their father's wat'ry empire sway. 
 
 The ponds now drain'd, the cautious eel lies roll'd 
 Deep in the mud, and wound in many a fold. 
 While here he lurks, conceal'd beneath the ooze, 
 With griping hand the smooth deceiver close 5 * 
 Lest he, like fortune, when you think the prey 
 Securely your's, should subtly glide away. 
 
 No sweeping drag-net should the race alarm, 
 That through your streams, congenial breeding swarmj 
 Lest you destroy young natives of the flood, 
 And all your fruit prove blighted in the budj 
 Bow nets still use; or, in a darksome night, 
 Fires on the margin of the river light ; 
 Struck with the dazzling flame, ne'er seen before, 
 Surpris'd they slow approach the shining shore j 
 
 . ,j O 1 
 
 * Sero sapiunt Phryges. 
 
 " The prouerbe saieth, so longe the potte to water goes, 
 That at the lengthe it broke returnes, which is appli'de to those, 
 That longe with wyles, and shiftes, haue cloaked wicked partes, 
 Whoe haue at lengthe bene paied home, and had their iust desertes ; 
 Euen as the sly mie eele, that ofte did slippe awaie, 
 Yet, with figge leaues at lengthe was catch' de & made the fisshers praie." 
 
 Geffrey Whitney's Emblems, 1486. 
 
 whir*
 
 
 While thus for knowledge greedy they appear, 
 Or to the crackling billets lend an ear, 
 Insnare with nets, or fix 'em with a spear. * 
 Still other arts your leisure may employ, 
 Amusement yield, nor all the race destroy: 
 On the green margin dark secluded stand 
 A taper angle waving in your hand; 
 The wand'ring prey with choicest bait invite, 
 And fatal steel conceal'd by art from sight, f 
 
 Once 
 
 " The glow-worme shining in a frosty night, 
 Is an admirable thing in shepheard's sight. 
 Twentie of these wormes put in a small glasse, 
 Stopped so close that no issue doe passe; 
 Hang'd in a bow-net and suncke to the ground, 
 Ofapoole, or lake, broad, and profound: 
 Will take such plentie of excellent fish, 
 As well may furnish an Emperor's dish." 
 
 Breton'* Ourqnia. 
 f- To ANGLERS. 
 
 " O take away that wily, treach'rous hook \ 
 Why are the harmless tenants of the brook 
 
 (Secure, poor things, till now, amongst each other) 
 To be of cold barbarity the sport ? 
 Perhaps each fish that from the flood you court, 
 
 May mourn its parents kind a sister brother. 
 It makes Humanity, sweet maiden 1 weep 
 To see the wanton spoitives of the deep 
 
 Torn from the pleasures of their silv'ry bed : 
 It makes her sigh, to mark the dipping float 
 The hidden captive's agony denote, 
 
 And all its sweet and social comforts fled. 
 I love to see the gudgeon and the bream 
 Thread the wild mazes of their native stream, 
 
 And unmolested through each thicket stray 5 
 I love to see the dace, in shining pride, 
 Kow rush amidst the fierce, impetuous tide, 
 
 And now upon the tempting surface play. 
 
 The
 
 39 
 
 Once on the grassy border of a flood 
 A boy, and round a youthful circle stood, 
 With floated line, and rod, did next prepare, 
 The 'guileful charm to hide the barbed snare j 
 The boy commanded silence with a nod, 
 And threw his twisted line into the flood: 
 By chance a mullet in the stream appear'd 
 Large, and conspicuous by a length of beard : 
 He nibbled at the bait in sportive play, 
 And then refusing seem'd to swim away. 
 Now with the current down the stream he glides 
 Now with his tail the adverse waves divides; 
 
 The worm that writhes, too, on the barbed steel, 
 Knows n-t less pain than does the culprit feel, 
 When legal vengeance drags him to her den : 
 His weil-knit limbs, his nerves, his sinews firm, 
 Defy not torture better than a worm- 
 Reptiles are flesh and blood as well as men. 
 
 "Tis not for man to lift his murd'ring arm 
 Against the artless, unoffending swarm, 
 
 Towage unequal combat with a fishs 
 So much, believe me, liberty I prize, 
 I'd rather on their freedom feast my eyes, 
 
 Than view them smoaking on the glutton's dish. 
 
 .Enough for me if, while I roam at ease, 
 
 And raste, sweet Isis, on tby banks, the breeze 
 
 That wantons there, upon her silken wings, 
 Health's genial hand its bounty shall bestow, 
 And on my cheek impress the livid glow, 
 
 And all the charms the lovely goddess brings. 
 
 Farewell, my rod, and to my lines farewell, 
 
 No more shall sports like these my bosom swell- 
 No more shall ye to cruelty invoke me : 
 
 Perhaps some fish, with patriot rage may bum 
 
 Perhaps some trout be savage in its turn 
 
 And, dying for its injur'd brethren, choak me." J. T. 
 
 But
 
 4 
 
 But soon returns the odour to regain, 
 
 And winds in circles through the wat'ry plain j 
 
 Thus heedless moths display their painted wings, 
 
 And flutter round the flame which sure destruction bring* 
 
 Meanwhile the boys, attentive, scarce appear 
 
 To breathe, by turns inflam'd with hope and fear; 
 
 Now certain, now despairing of their prize, 
 
 On this alone they fix their greedy eyes; 
 
 At length fear yields to hunger, and the bait 
 
 He credulously swallow the deceit 
 
 Soon by his blood discovering, he in vain 
 
 Attempts to void the hook and ease the pain j 
 
 When, from his mouth the steel he would withdraw. 
 
 Deeper the steel is rooted in his jawj 
 
 The fisher jerks his rod, with nimble hand, 
 
 And throws the mullet gasping on the sand ; 
 
 He, looking on the river in despair, 
 
 Leap'd slightly twice or thrice into the air, 
 
 But when his strength unable now he found 
 
 To lift his ponderous body from the ground, 
 
 Flapping his tail upon the bank in death 
 
 He struggling panted and resign'd his breath $ 
 
 Not one there was of all that there appear'd, 
 
 But touch'd the fins and gently strok'd the beard. 
 
 Here then a boy, that stood upon the strand, 
 
 Thus with a tale amus'd the youthful band: 
 
 Barbus, whose name was from his beard deriv'd, 
 
 Had almost at an hundred years arriv'd; 
 
 Now weak with age and stooping to the ground, 
 
 His brow was rugged and with wrinkles crown'd: 
 
 His mouth was wide, his feeble head hung down, 
 
 His teeth were lost, his hands were bony grown ; 
 
 Thick on his chin a bunch of hair remain'd, 
 
 And his weak steps a knotty staff sustain'd. 
 
 Oft, in his youthful years near streams he stood, 
 
 And cast his lines and nets into the flood. 
 
 And
 
 41 
 
 And as we find that length of years destroys 
 
 The strength, bnt not the love of former joys, 
 
 He, tho' grown old, resorted to the shore, 
 
 And haunted still the streams he lov'd before j 
 
 Still was he pleas'd and eager to betray, 
 
 With hooks conceal'd by baits the finny prey.* 
 
 As once the old man, on a river's side, 
 
 Aim'd at a fish that near the shore he spy'd; 
 
 His tottering footsteps fail'd to keep their hold, 
 
 And headlong from the slipp'ry bank he roll'dj 
 
 Now with the rapid current he contends, 
 
 Large draughts of water swallows, and extends 
 
 His feeble arms, but, hoping most to gain 
 
 By pray'rs success, he vows but vows in vain. 
 
 His breathless body, floating down the brook, 
 
 Great Jove beheld, and kind compassion took: 
 
 " Live still," he cry'd, ' e but in the stream remain, 
 
 And dwell for ever with the finny train; 
 
 Death was so near at hand, you need not griere 
 
 For a short space a feeble trunk to leave." 
 
 Now forth his arms as leathern fins extend, 
 
 And in a tail his feet contracted blend ; 
 
 The form of scales his tatter'd garments wore j 
 
 His back look'd dry and wither'd as before; 
 
 Still on his chin a length of beard remain'd, 
 
 His teeth he lost, but harmless gums retain'd, 
 
 These, in a fish, the marks of age are deem'd, 
 
 For age alone the mullets are esteem'd j 
 
 And length of years, by which all other things 
 
 Decay, to these increase of honour brings. 
 
 * The angler's sport is full of patience, and if" he lose his hooke, lie 
 makes a faire fishing. 
 
 The fish in the river is not afraid of drowning, and if he play with t 
 baite it will cost him his life." 
 
 ffit'$ frivatt laealtby ttarcd ivitb cbolst of nmmodit'nt to content tbt 
 mlndc, by N. Breton. 1639. 
 
 I t
 
 1 to the fable lent a list'ning ear, 
 And thus began ; when I both see and hear 
 The various arts of fishers, and survey 
 How they the fish deceitfully betray, 
 Reflect I must with equal grief and truth j 
 That the same arts deceive unwary youth, 
 The snares, of old for fish alone design'd, 
 Are now employ 'd to captivate mankind; 
 Man catches man, and by the bait betrays* 
 With proffer'd kindness, or, still cunning, layt 
 Nets to entrap th' unwary, and embroils 
 Cities and towns to profit from the spoils. 
 For you, dear youths, soft pleasure lies in wait, 
 And hides her hook beneath a honey'd bait, 
 But all her treach'rous gifts will only gain 
 For a short joy a lasting load of pain. 
 Here when the bait allures the fish to taste 
 The transient pleasure of a sweet repast, 
 You see for this how dearly he must pay; - 
 Life is the purchase, and himself the prey. 
 Thus soft allurements serve to varnish o'er 
 The frauds of pleasure, unperceiv'd before; 
 But if a youih is once inspir'd, he'll find 
 He cannot void the poison from his mind; 
 No more than could the fish when snar'd withdraw 
 The crooked steel from his tormented jaw; 
 "While lasting grief for short delights he gains, 
 Still rues his transient joys with ever-during pains, f 
 
 * ' Think when thou seest the baite 
 
 whereon is thy d elite, 
 That hidden hookes are hard at hande 
 
 to bane thee when thou bite." Turbemle. 
 
 f ' Fyshe, hyghte pisces, and hathe that name of Pascendo, fedynge, 
 as Isodore say th libro xii. ca. vi. Fyshe licketh the erthe and watry heroes, 
 Ic to get they meete and nouryshynge. Also they Urine called Reptilia, 
 
 crepynf,
 
 43 
 
 otepyng, bycause in swimmynge they seme as they did crepe: for in 
 ming they crepe, though they syak; downe to the bottom. Wherof speketh 
 Ambrose in Exameron, and saythe, that bitwene fyshe and water is great 
 nighnes of kynred. For withoute water they may not long lyue ; and they 
 lyue not longe with onelye brethynge, withoute drawynge of water. And 
 they haue a maner lyknes and kynd of crepyng, for, whyle a fyshe swym- 
 meth, by shrynkyng and drawynge together of his body, he draweth and 
 gathereth hym selfe in to les length, and anone stretcheth hym selfe agayne, 
 and entendeth to passe forth in the water ; and by that ciyligence he putteth 
 the water backewarde, and passeth itself forwarde. Therfore he vseth finnes 
 in swymmynge, as a foule vseth fethers in fleenge. But all other wyse im 
 iwymmynge a fyshe mcuetJi his fynnes fro the hynder parte dounwarde, 
 and as it were with armes, or ores, he clippeth the water, & holdeth it, and 
 stretcheth hym selfe forwarde. But a byrde meueth his fethers vpwarde, and 
 gadereth thayre, and compelleth it to passe out backeward by large stretch- 
 ynge of wyndes, and so by violente puttynge of ayre backewarde the bodye 
 meuith forwarde. And kyndes of fyshe ben dyuerse in many maner wyse 
 
 Some abyde only in the see, and some in ryuers and pondes, and in 
 
 ether freshe waters, and some ben meane bytwene these two maner fyshes, 
 and tome and come now to fresh water, and nowe to sake water to gette 
 them meate. And fishe that come out of the sake water in to freshe haue 
 lykynge in the freshenes therof, and ben fattid : and ayenwarde, and thii 
 fyshe owe abydeth in the see & nowe in freshe water. And manye ryuer 
 fyshes maye not taste caltnesse of the see, for if he catchyth sake water, he 
 dieth sodaynely, and torneth vp the wombe, and fleteeth aboue the water, Se 
 that is token of death in all manner of fyshe both of see and of freshe water. 
 And fyshe that is bredde in the see hath hard scales and thycke, bycause of 
 drynes of the sake water; and ryuer fyshe haue subtyll scales and nesht 
 backe bones. Back bones in fyshes ben nedefull to restreyne the fleshe 
 therof that is fletynge, for kynde neshenesse therof. And Auycen techeth 
 to chese good fyshe by kynde of the place wherin they ben noryshed and 
 fedde. And in H. ii. ca. vii. he sayth, that in this maner choys of fyshe 
 is in place, in whiche hit dwelled). For suche as abyde in stonye placet 
 ben beste and swetest, and in freshe rennynge water, in whiche is no cor- 
 rupcion, ne no slyme, ne wose, nor stondynge lakes, ne in welles, nor in 
 small pyttes that renne not in riuers, in whom ben noo welles. And he 
 saythe there, that some see fyshes ben good ; for those that ben subtyll 
 ben beste, and ben nourished in the depe see and no where elles. And 
 fyshe that abyde in waters, that ben vnheled with blastes of wynde, that 
 bloweth the water somtime fro them, are better than those that ben not so 
 terued. And thoie that ben in waters that ben strongly meucd and con- 
 tinually
 
 44 
 
 tinually labored, beruie better than those that ben In standynge water. And 
 soo see fythe is better than ryuer fyshe. And ryuer fyshe better than lake 
 fishe, namely if they ben ferre fro the ryuers and fro the see. For they that 
 haue rest in theyr rotynnes & filthe, are not washed nother clensed by ryuer 
 that cometh therin, nor by see. And therfore suche fyshe is euyll sauoured, 
 and soone roten. Also both see fyshe and ryuer fyshe is better in the northe 
 see, and in the east see, than in the south see, for by stronge Wastes of 
 wynde the water is moued and clensed and made subtyll. And therefore 
 fishe of that water meueth more and trauayhth, and ben more elensid of 
 their superfluitie." Anno M D XXXf Bertbolomevi, de proprittatibv* 
 rer-vm. Londinl In aedibvi Tbcmae Bertbtleti regii imfreiieris. Cvm privi- 
 Itglo a rtgt indvltt. Folio, 
 
 THE END. 
 
 T. Btr.siey, P inter, 
 Bolt Court, Fleet Su.ct, Lm<.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 Form L9-50w-7,'54(5990)444
 
 tooinvD 
 
 .OF-CALIF 
 
 ^AHvna 
 
 vlOS-ANi 
 
 v> 
 
 %a3A!N 
 ^clOS-AN 
 
 ftaiAW 
 
 \1-L1BR