John Rayner 
 
 /off fi tlayner
 
 Books on Angling. 
 
 Publijhed by W. PICKERING. 
 
 Walton and Cotton's Complete Angler. 
 
 Edited with Original Memoirs, by Sir Harris Ni- 
 colas ^ Illuftrated by Engravings from Defigns by 
 Stothard and Injkipp. 2 vols. imperial 8vo. 61. 6s. 
 or proofs on India paper, io/. 105. The Illuftra- 
 tions feparate, 410. proofs before the letters, io/. ioj. 
 
 *** Additional Plates (xxxn) to Illuftrate Wal- 
 ton and Cotton's Complete Angler, confifting of 
 Portraits, Monuments, &c. moftly proofs, imperial 
 8vo. 3/. 3*. 
 
 II 
 
 The true Enjoyment of Angling. By 
 
 Henry Phillips, Efq. Illuftrated with a Portrait of 
 the Author, and Seven Songs, defcriptive of the Art, 
 with Pianoforte Accompaniments. 8vo. IQS. 6d. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Berners's (Juliana) Treatyfe of Fysmynge 
 
 wyth an 'Angle. Reprint with fac-fimile wood-cuts, 
 crown 8vo. s.
 
 Books on Angling. 
 
 IV 
 
 Pifcatorial Reminifcences and Gleanings, 
 
 by an Old Angler and Bibliopolijl ; with the moft 
 complete Catalogue of Books on Angling ever pub- 
 limed, fscap. 8vo. with cuts^ 7*. 6d. 
 
 The Angler's Defideratum, containing the 
 
 beft and fulleft Dire&ions for drefling the Artificial 
 Fly ; with fome new and valuable Inventions, " by 
 The Author," from a practice of nearly half a Cen- 
 tury, I2mo. is. bd.
 
 THE 
 
 RIVER DOVE 
 
 WITH SOME QUIET THOUGHTS ON 
 
 THE HAPPY PRACTICE OF 
 
 ANGLING 
 
 LONDON 
 WILLIAM PICKERING 
 
 1847
 
 'Epa<rp/>j IIEAEIA, 
 IIo'0y rtoQsv Tf&fatra-ai; 
 nd0v jw-o'pwv rotrovrwv 
 fs xai 4/Ka'^<f ; 
 
 Anacreon, Ode IX.
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 THE book I here prefent to you was put into 
 the Printer's hands for the entertainment 
 of a few Gentlemen Fijhers ; and I hope you take 
 a pleafure in the harmlefs recreation of Angling, 
 otherwife I may not hope you will overlook its 
 defefts. I heartily wijh it were a more worthy 
 tribute to the memory of thofe bejl majters of 
 our art, Mr. Izaak Walton, and Mr. Charles 
 Cotton : 
 
 ' ALAS, THAT THEY ARE DEAD !' 
 
 But I befeech you to be civil, and moderate in your 
 cenfures ; for I undertook thofe pleafant walks, 
 to which I here invite you, by the banks of the 
 DOVE (now ten years are paji) to unbend my 
 mind from fame ferious cares. And that 1 may 
 not detain you from the perufal, I have only this
 
 IV 
 
 To the Reader. 
 
 further to dejire, that we may all have a fouth 
 wind when we go a-fijhing, and be blejl with a 
 virtuous cheerful fpirit, a peaceful confcience, and 
 at lajt eternal rejoicings in the kingdom of angels. 
 
 Tour loving friend 
 
 and humble feru ant, 
 
 from my Houfe at 
 
 Feftival of St. Peter, 1687.
 
 THE RIVER DOVE; 
 
 WITH SOME QJJIET THOUGHTS ON THE 
 HAPPY PRACTICE OF ANGLING. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A Meeting at Derby, between an Angler 
 and a Painter. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 ELCOME, Mr. Gentleman An- 
 gler : welcome to Derby. 
 
 Angler. Good morrow, brother, 
 I am glad to fee you look fo cheer- 
 ing and courteous ; for I muft confefs I am 
 later than our fix't appointment. 
 
 Painter. Sir, now I poflefs you, I'm too 
 glad-hearted to chide your lagging : yet, to fay 
 the truth, I expected you this hour agone ; for 
 methought your fprightful anglers were apt to
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 prevent the fun's rifing on a delicate May 
 morning. 
 
 Angler. Give me your pardon this turn, and 
 doubt not to find me ftirring with the lark 
 every day that you and I purpofe to walk in 
 each other's company by the banks of the 
 Dove. 
 
 Painter. My pardon you shall have the more 
 willingly, if you fail not a traveller's good fto- 
 mach for breakfaft. 
 
 Angler. You may truft me. I am as keenly 
 fet as a mofs trooper. 
 
 Painter. I am glad to hear it, for I have 
 told the civil hoftefs to treat us well. 
 
 Angler. You are worthy to be a brother of 
 the angle ; and this I am refolved you mail be 
 when we are come to the river that I love fo 
 well : but let us fee what we may have for 
 our breakfaft, and fall to it merrily. 
 
 Painter. Here it is, and all of the beft ; 
 fo let us fay grace, and begin. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart ; and that will 
 give it a relifh. 
 
 Painter. How now, brave Sir ! What fay 
 you ? 
 
 Angler. By pick and pie 'tis all excellent. 
 When I am Lord Great Chamberlain you 
 mall be my caterer. Come, Sir, for a glafs of
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ale ; my fervice to you. Now I envy not the 
 daintieft court gallants in the land, that are 
 afleep on their beds of down. 
 
 Painter. I am amazed how fome fluggards 
 will lie a-bed almoft till dinner time. 
 
 Angler. They know none of the ingenuous 
 delights of fifhermen. So let us blefs God, 
 that we have not only a mind to rife with the 
 fun, but the power to it, for that is flill better. 
 And, as plain-hearted Mr. Walton fays, c that 
 4 our prefent happinefs may appear to be greater, 
 4 and we the more thankful for it, I will beg 
 4 you to confider with me, how many do, even 
 ' at this very time, lie under the torment of the 
 c ftone, the gout, and the tooth ache, and this 
 ' we are free from ; and every mifery that I mifs 
 4 is a new mercy.' 
 
 Painter. And how many are now languim- 
 ing in the fad captivity of dungeons, 4 feeding 
 4 on bread of affliction, and water of affliction.' 
 
 But, come ; tell me how it has fared with 
 
 you, fince we parted from each other's com- 
 pany, now two days agone, when you refolved 
 to entertain yourfelf with fome hours fiftiing in 
 the lower parts of the River Dove, near to the 
 town of Uttoxeter. 
 
 Angler. That I will relate to you by and by, 
 as we journey towards Afhbourne ; and be-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 caufe the morning wears apace, let us take 
 another cup of barley wine and be gone ; for 
 we have fome hours, and many more miles, on 
 this fide Alftonfields, where you and I muft 
 lodge to-night. 
 
 Painter. It is well thought ; fo Miftrefs 
 Hoftefs here is payment for your choice break- 
 faft, and thanks for your civility, and fo we 
 
 wifh you good morrow. And now, brother, 
 
 feeing we are paft Derby Bridge, and are come 
 out of the town, look forth on the freflinefs of 
 the landfcape, and the dewdrops that hang on 
 every blade and bum, fparkling in the beams of 
 the fun. 
 
 Angler. What happy thoughts poflefs a 
 man's mind when he breathes the air of the 
 morning, and contemplates the bounties of na- 
 ture ! 
 
 Painter. Aye ; then the heart is full of un- 
 fpeakable thoughts that foar upward from earth 
 to heaven, and fo higher ftill on the fpiritual 
 wings of reverential love unto HIM, who is 
 above this vault fo beautiful, fo vaft, and is the 
 Creator and Suftainer of all. 
 
 Angler. And liften to the very fong-birds 
 chirping their untaught morning harmony to 
 God, who c caufeth the day-fpring from on high 
 c to know his place'
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. This fimple feathered choir teaches 
 mankind to be cheerful, and to fing joyful 
 pfalms, and to make melody in their heart to 
 the Lord : nay, what can be pleafanter than to 
 do this, ' w hen the very morning ft ars fing toge- 
 4 tber.' And what fays even the learned hea- 
 then, Epictetus ? * ' If we have any wifdom, 
 1 what is more becoming in public and in pri- 
 c vate, than to fing hymns to the Deity ? If I 
 4 were a nightingale, I mould do as the nightin- 
 c gales do if a fwan, as the fwans ; but becaufe 
 4 1 am a reafonable creature, I muft the rather 
 4 praife God. So I will never leave that practice 
 4 myfelf, and I do exhort all others to it.' And 
 now give me leave to put you in mind to tell 
 me fomething of your lonely walks round 
 about Uttoxeter, that we may beguile the way 
 with cheerful converfation between this and 
 Ambourne. 
 
 jfngler. That I mail willingly do : and firft, 
 you are to know, I paffed by the great foreft of 
 Needwood, that has fome of the pleafanteft 
 chafes and parks in all England, and is fo full 
 of marvellous big oaks and fat bucks ; then, 
 after Needwood I came to Tutbury. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! 
 
 * Arrian. Epift. 1. i.e. 16. ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 ' The battle was fought near Titbury town, 
 ' When the bagpipes baited the bull ? ' * 
 
 Angler. Come, Sir, if you have that choice 
 ballad by memory, pr'ythee let us hear it. 
 
 * Kind gentlemen, will ye be patient awhile ? 
 
 ' Aye, and then you (hall hear anon, 
 ' A very good ballad of bold Robin Hood, 
 
 ' And of his man, brave little John. 1 
 
 Painter. Some parts I could repeat ; but 
 rather let me hear of your walk from Tutbury : 
 and pr'ythee when thou waft thereabouts, didft 
 
 ' fcemauntte one bacon flpfee, ganging in tlje 
 '$alle of tge Horti of oaigicgenotj?'t 
 
 dngler. Nay do you take me for a Bene- 
 dick ? Let the flyke be claimed by the won- 
 
 drous wight that 'tooulti not rtjaunge fji'0 
 for none ortjer, farec ne fotoler, 
 
 * ' A new ballad of bold Robin Hood ; /flowing his 
 ' birth, breeding, 'valour, and marriage at Titbury Bull- 
 ' running. Calculated for the meridian of StaffordJJiire , 
 ' but may ferve for Derby/hire or Kent.'' ED. 
 
 f See Plott's Hiftory of StafFordmire, p. 437, for an 
 account of the primitive right to claim the Flyke of 
 Bacon, which Sir Philip de Somerville was bound to 
 keep hanging in his Hall, in token of his fealty to John 
 of Gaunt, Duke of Lancafter, for the manors of Which- 
 enovre and others. The fame cuftom prevails at Dun- 
 mow in Eflex. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 rpcfjer ne pouter of allc tlje topmeti of ttje 
 
 Painter. And how is his highness, the ' king 
 of the minftrels ? ' * 
 
 Angler. Gone to his reft, with brave John 
 of Gaunt, and the Prior of Tutbury. Alas ! 
 fmce the roundheads once kept watch and 
 ward in Tutbury Caftle, the merry minftrelfy 
 is hufhed in the hall. But now you may con- 
 fider me to be arrived in the town of Uttoxeter, 
 full of compofed thoughts, and there I found a 
 tidy houfe of refrefhment, and put myfelf to 
 bed betimes, that I might be away before the 
 day dawn ; and fo I was, and let me tell you 
 my firft waking thoughts, after remembering 
 my prayers, were of the River Dove, and my 
 happy practice of angling. 
 
 Painter. That indeed was natural, and I 
 make bold to think you caught fome brace of 
 trouts before breakfaft ? 
 
 Angler. Not fo, brother ; for you are to note 
 
 * No doubt, in allufion to the Charter granted in 
 1381, by John of Gaunt, to the troop of minftrels 
 maintained at Tutbury Caftle, in that time of its fplen- 
 dour. The chief was appointed by the title of ' King 
 of the Minftrels ; ' and he had wardens and other offi- 
 cers under him to maintain the rules of the Fraternity, 
 and to levy fines for any diforders. PlotCs Hift. ED. 
 
 7
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 every angler muft needs be bleft with a hopeful 
 and patient difpofition, fince he may fometimes 
 look to come home as he went forth, that is to 
 fay, with an empty pannier 
 
 Painter. As the reward of his patience ! 
 Well, patience is an herb, they fay, makes a 
 ' good boiled fallad : ' why, Sir, an angler need 
 to be 'Patience on a monument,' that he may fit 
 filently by the river, and look down at nothing 
 but his float. 
 
 Angler. Well ! I give you leave to cenfure, 
 fince you know none of thofe fweet pleafures 
 that attend on angling : and I remit you .to 
 Mr. Izaak Walton, ' that dear lover and fre- 
 quent pra6ticer of my art,' for many clear rea- 
 fons and examples to prove that it may be 
 efteemed one of the moft honeft and com- 
 mendable recreations a gentleman can pradtife. 
 
 Painter. A hopeful entertainment, truly ! 
 Neverthelefs, I cannot but fmile at your dump- 
 im anglers that wait fo meekly for their for- 
 tunes, as to feem fixed with all the gravity of 
 fculptured images on the margin of their 
 ftreams. 
 
 Angler. So, fo ! good brother, you may 
 fmile and wonder too ; nay, I will laugh with 
 you, and after that will not be amamed to con- 
 fefs how I am poflefTed with a conftant love of
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 my gentle craft. But for the prefent let me 
 bring your thoughts towards the Dove, near to 
 Uttoxeter. 
 
 Painter. Aye, let us hear more of that ; 
 then you made fome contemplative trial of the 
 trouts ? 
 
 Angler. But it was all in vain ; for the wind 
 was contrary, and they took no liking to my 
 flies, and fo I miffed my fport : but I hope for 
 better acceptance the next time I go a-courting 
 that way. 
 
 Painter. Then I befeech you, gentle Mr. 
 Angler, how did you pafs the hours, fince the 
 trouts, out of their coynefs, declined from your 
 acquaintance ? If I might conjecture, you 
 ftraightway fell into a confideration of Mafter 
 Izaak Walton's praife of fifties and fifhing. 
 
 Angler. And if I did ? Give me leave to tell 
 you, he hath fet forth the delights of this 
 recreation with fuch refined and ingenuous ar- 
 guments, as to perfuade many a man to become 
 a fifher, who was before very averfe to it. 
 Nay, I fhall hope to make you put on new 
 thoughts of angling before we part company} 
 for, of all men, limners have moft caufe to love 
 my art, feeing they may recline by the fide of 
 a lake or river, and leave their angle-rods c to 
 fifh for themfelves,' and this Mr. Walton de-
 
 IO 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 clares, and truly, to be ' like putting money to 
 4 ufe ; for then thefe angle-rods work for the 
 1 owners when they do nothing but fleep, or 
 ' eat, or rejoice ' 
 
 Painter. Or paint pictures ! 
 
 Angler. Even fo : and I may declare to you 
 I have feen fuch pleafant profpects of wood- 
 lands, and rivers, and ftreams, that have flowed 
 along the valleys and through many a mead in 
 England, when I have been a-fifhing, as the 
 beft limner might defire to look at ; and yet 
 not be able to imitate with all his daintinefs of 
 hand. And fome of thefe I made a difcovery 
 of, within a little mile or two round Uttoxeter, 
 by the banks of the Dove ; for feeing I was 
 not like to fifh to profit, I confidered within 
 myfelfwhat I fhould do; and after a while I 
 refolved to examine into thofe parts of the river, 
 and fo be admitted into a more familiar ac- 
 quaintance with its landfkips. 
 
 Painter. Well thought ; and I declare to 
 you I am ready to efteem it my lofs that I was 
 not in your company. 
 
 Angler. There are many parts thereabouts 
 would have touched you mightily : for nature, 
 that is fo excellent an artificer, hath contrived 
 her works on either fide the river with a moft 
 unimitable difpofition and fkilfulnefs. And
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 I I 
 
 you are to note, the river I fpeak of is the 
 
 
 Dove ; 
 
 
 ' Whofe dainty grafle, 
 
 
 ' That grows upon her banks, all other doth furpaffe,' 
 
 
 as old Michael Drayton * declares : and there- 
 
 
 abouts I found the Churnet, that gives her the 
 
 
 contribution of its ftreams, and is contented to 
 
 
 receive nothing from her in exchange but her 
 
 
 fpeckled trouts, and this for the fweet fatisfac- 
 
 
 tion of an attendance upon her, till her efpou- 
 
 
 fals with the Trent below Eggington. Then I 
 
 
 may not omit to mention that pleafant river the 
 
 
 Blythe, whofe fountains fpring up near to 
 
 
 the c ancient caftel ' of Caverfwall, gathering 
 
 
 ftrength as me flows along by the Earl of 
 
 
 Derby's great park and Caftle of Chartley, and 
 
 
 then 
 
 
 ' Bears eafey down tow'rds her deere foveraign Trent.' 
 
 
 Painter. Blythe ! the very name is full of 
 
 
 promife ; and I doubt not her banks are lined 
 
 
 with profpe&s of mountains and vales. 
 
 
 Angler. All variegated with moorlands and 
 
 
 woodlands ; fuch alluring fcenes for an angler 
 
 
 or a painter, and fo decked by nature's hand as 
 
 
 to be little fpots of enchantment, which caufed 
 
 
 * Drayton's Polyolbion : Song 12, p. 207. ED. 

 
 12 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 me a double forrow that you were not my fel- 
 low traveller : and I refolved I would fome time 
 or other fee thofe landfkips again, if it mould 
 pleafe God to let me live long enough, and give 
 me the diverfion of fome leifurable days. 
 
 Painter. Your commendations of the Dove 
 inflame my defires to make acquaintance with 
 her ftreams ; and I rejoice that I am now like 
 to do this in your company ; and I befeech you 
 tell me fomething more of the Churnet, that 
 joins itfelf thereabouts to the Dove. 
 
 Angler. That would I willingly, if time might 
 ferve ; but we are come within fight of Brails- 
 ford. 
 
 Painter. Then make me this promife, that 
 we may beguile fome future hours together by 
 thofe lower paflages of the Dove, and fee 
 where me difcharges herfelfinto the Trent. 
 
 Angler. Let that be a match between us ; 
 and I promife you nothing can be pleafanter for 
 an artift than the lights and fhadows of their 
 umbrageous banks, and the paftures, and lowing 
 herds by the river, and the native cafcades and 
 rocks, and the peaceful villages with antient 
 churches, that lend their aid to the compofure 
 of thofe retired profpedls. 
 
 Painter. How did you call this pleafant look- 
 ing place we are come to ?
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Now you are arrived at Brailsford ; 
 and there is the Saracen's Head, that is kept 
 by honeft John Bembridge ; this way, fo pleafe 
 you ; and look, here is a well of water, called 
 St. Bernard's Well, so like to chryftal, that 
 almoft a blind beggar may fee the pebble ftones 
 at the bottom. 
 
 Painter. It is furprifmgly clear. 
 
 jfngler. Then, I befeech you, take your 
 pencil, and give me a defign, in remembrance 
 of this pleafant walk we have undertaken to- 
 gether. 
 
 Painter. I cannot deny any requeft of yours, 
 for I have left my home for no other end than 
 the fatisfa&ion of your company and civil dif- 
 courfe, and to give you in return all the con- 
 tentment that my poor art is capable of. 
 
 Angler. Why that's heartily and kindly fpoken ; 
 and I will be fo bold to promife you fbme en- 
 tertainment on our journey ; for, look you, 
 here is the neweft imprefiion of Mr. Walton's 
 COMPLETE ANGLER, and here is Part the 
 Second^ that is lately printed for a companion 
 to it. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! another volume from the 
 fertile pen of Mr. Izaak Walton ! what more 
 that is new can he have to fay on Angling ? 
 
 Angler. Stay a while ; for this is a Treatife
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 of Fly Fifhing, l being Injlrufiions how to an- 
 ' gl e f or a Trout or Grayling in a clear Stream, 
 writ by Mr. Charles Cotton, of Beresford Hall, 
 his adopted fon ; fo they are printed together 
 in teftimony of their mutual affection. It is a 
 cheerful dialogue between Pifcator Junior, that 
 is, Mr. Charles Cotton himfelf, and Viator, 
 who was a gentleman-traveller he overtook on 
 horfeback, between Derby and Afhbourne, half 
 a mile from this place. And if thefe two trea- 
 tifes together do not kindle in your mind alove 
 for the art, I am certain you will at leaft gather 
 from the perufal a charitable difpofition towards 
 anglers. 
 
 Painter. It would be uncivil to deny Mr. 
 Cotton's merits before I have read his treatife ; 
 and for Mr. Walton, I may confefs he has a 
 fingular vein of wit and affability, and fome 
 parts of his other works, that I have dipped 
 into, are writ with fo happy a pen, and are fo 
 full of judicious difcourfe, as teftify to his 
 modeft difpofition, and exa6t diligence and dif- 
 cernment. 
 
 Angler. I'm glad you think fo. 
 
 Painter. But furely it cannot be denied, that 
 he hath fometimes fpun a long line for the 
 readers of his difcourfe on fiming ? 
 
 Angler. Yet are his lines fpun with a curi-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ous magical contexture of learning and wit, to 
 allure his readers no lefs than to deceive all 
 kinds of fifh.es ; for his book extremely abounds 
 with innocent mirth, and what is better than 
 all, you may not deny that in every part he 
 difcourfes fweetly on the unfeen world, and 
 things after death. 
 
 Painter. There is not a doubt he hath a 
 thankful and reverential heart. 
 
 Angler. Aye, and is an orthodox chriftian, 
 that loves our dear mother THE CHURCH, her 
 primitive orders of apoftolic miniftry and go- 
 vernment, her holy facraments and her fervice 
 book, which are even now a mark for the 
 butt-fhafts of unquiet carking feparatifts, who 
 difpute againft the laws both ecclefiaftical and 
 civil. 
 
 Painter. Oh ! I am grieved to think how 
 thofe cenfurers be fo full of their own whimfies, 
 and unconformable to difcipline, that if you 
 fpoke to them with angels' tongues they would 
 not be perfuaded to hold to the Catholic Church 
 in England, which learned Lord Bacon declares 
 to be as found and orthodox in the doctrine 
 thereof as any church in the world. 
 
 dngler. True, and Mr. Walton is of the 
 fame opinion : and fome of his writings are 
 choice pieces of chriftian philofophy ; and a
 
 1 6 The River Dove. 
 
 life of innocency, and his modeft peaceablenefs 
 of mind have endeared him to many of our 
 moft grave and pious prelates now living. 
 
 Painter. Neverthelefs for his COMPLETE 
 ANGLER it is pleafant to fee with what feriouf- 
 nefs he dilates on the antiquity and other qua- 
 lities of his art. He is like Mafter Shake- 
 fpeare's dauphin in a panegyric on his palfrey. 
 4 When I beftride him, I foar, I am a hawk : 
 1 he trots the air ; the earth fmgs when he 
 
 * touches it ; the bafeft horn of his hoof is more 
 4 mufical than the pipe of Hermes ' 
 
 jfngler. 4 No more, coufm,' I befeech you. 
 
 Painter. ' Nay, the man hath no wit, that 
 4 cannot, from the rifmg of the lark to the 
 ' lodging of the lamb, vary deferved praife on 
 4 my palfrey : it is a theme as fluent as the fea ; 
 c turn the fands into eloquent tongues, and my 
 4 horfe is argument for them all : 'tis a fubjeft 
 
 * for a fovereign to reafon on, and for a fove- 
 4 reign's fovereign to ride on, and for the world 
 4 to lay apart their particular functions and 
 4 wonder at him.'* 
 
 Angler. Ha ha ha ! would my dear maf- 
 ter were by to defend his poor jennet. 
 
 Painter. Well, well ; I would not deny 
 
 * Henry V. Aft in. Scene vii. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 him the privilege of riding aftride on his hobby 
 horfe, feeing how the greateft fcholar of the laft 
 age compofed a panegyric on Folly, and made 
 a dedication of it to Sir Thomas More, that 
 wife Chancellor of England. 
 
 Angler. Since I perceive how you are re- 
 folved to run at tilt againft poor, civil, honeft 
 anglers, I will forbear, and c Jludy to be quiet ,' 
 after the example of my matter, who, if he has 
 not the meeknefs of Mofes, (and that I will not 
 declare,) yet is the meekeft man I know of in 
 this difputing age. 
 
 Painter. Nay, brother, I did but jeft : and 
 doubtlefs Mr. Walton is a man of primitive 
 piety, for his lives of Dr. Donne, Sir Henry 
 Wotton, venerable Mr. Richard Hooker, and 
 Mr. George Herbert, could only be compofed 
 by one of like religious affections with thofe 
 memorable men. 
 
 Angler. And call to mind that picture he has 
 drawn of Dr. Donne's laft ficknefs that ended 
 in his death. 
 
 Painter. I remember the words, how he de- 
 clares that good man was at length 4 fo happy 
 4 as to have nothing to do but to die ; ' and how 
 4 he lay fifteen days earneftly expecting his 
 4 hourly change, and in the laft hour of his laft 
 4 day, as his body melted away and vapoured
 
 i8 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 into fpirit, his foul having, I verily believe, 
 4 fome revelation of the beatifical vifion, he faid, 
 4 " I were miferable if I might not die;" and 
 4 how afterward, being fpeechlefs, and feeing 
 4 heaven by that illumination by which he faw 
 4 it, he did, as St. Stephen, look fteadfaftly into 
 4 it, till he faw the Son of Man ftanding at the 
 4 right hand of God his Father, and being fatif- 
 4 fied with this blefled fight, his foul afcended, 
 4 and his laft breath departed from him.' For 
 he was fo rooted and grounded in celeftial love, 
 he fhook the king of terrors, and difarmed him 
 of his fting, and the dark grave was (horn of 
 his victory. 
 
 Angler. True ; for he had long had his blame- 
 lefs converfation in heaven : he was a fpiritual 
 foldier that had quenched all the fiery darts of 
 the myfterious wicked one by the fhield of 
 faith, and now, like holy Paul, he yearned to 
 be releafed from things below, and to take part 
 in the invifible harmonious choirs in heavenly 
 places. And what a natural picture of primi- 
 tive manners Mr. Walton hath drawn in his 
 life of the ever-memorable Mr. Hooker, who, 
 when he was in his eighteenth year, and as 
 foon as he was perfectly recovered from a 
 dangerous ficknefs at Corpus Chrifti College 
 in Oxford, took a journey to Exeter, to fatisfy
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 and fee his good mother, who in all that time 
 of his fickness had 4 in her hourly prayers as 
 1 earneftly begged his life of God, as Monica, 
 4 the mother of St. Auguftine, did, that he 
 4 might become a true Chriftian.' 
 
 Painter. I have never read, or have forgot 
 that journey of his. 
 
 Angler. Well then, I may tell you, he walked 
 from Oxford unto Exeter, 4 with a companion 
 4 of his own college, and both on foot ; which 
 4 was then either more in fafhion, or want of 
 1 money, or their humility, made it fo : but on 
 1 foot they went, and took Salifbury in their 
 'way, purpofely to fee the good bifhop' (that 
 was Bifhop Jewel, his conftant and dear patron 
 and the beftower of an annual penfion for his 
 comfortable fubfiftence ;) l and the good bifhop 
 4 made Mr. Hooker and his companion dine 
 4 with him at his own table : and at his part- 
 4 ing the bifhop gave him good counfel and his 
 4 benediction, but forgot to give him money ; 
 4 which, when the bifhop had confidered, he 
 4 fent a fervant in all hafle to call Richard back 
 4 to him : and at Richard's return, the bifhop 
 4 delivered into his hand a walking-ftaff, with 
 4 which he profefled he had travelled through 
 4 many parts of Germany,' and he called it 
 4 his horfe which had carried him many a mile
 
 20 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 with much eafe.' And he said, c Richard, / 
 c do not give but lend you my horfe : be fur e you 
 4 be honejl, and bring my horfe back to me at 
 4 your return this way to Oxford. And I do 
 1 now give ten groats to bear your charges to 
 1 Exeter : and here is ten groats more, which I 
 4 charge you to deliver to your mother, and tell 
 1 her I fend her a bijhop's benediflion with it, 
 ' and beg the continuance of her prayers for me. 
 4 And if you bring my horfe back to me, I will 
 c give you ten groats more to carry you on foot 
 4 to the college ; and fo God blefs you, good Ri- 
 4 chard.' 
 
 Painter. I may promife you I fhall remem- 
 ber that pilgrimage on foot of 4 good Richard,' 
 to his poor mother's houfe at Exeter, and the 
 bifhop's walking-ftafF and his bleffing, and his 
 fo nigh-forgotten groats. 
 
 Angler. And fo in Mr. Walton's COMPLETE 
 ANGLER you will find many paflages that ex- 
 hibit his own ferenity of mind, and fuch touches 
 of rural life as will requite you for the pains of 
 reading : but now let me fee the picture you 
 have drawn of Brailsford Well. 
 
 Painter. Here it is. 
 
 Angler. I declare 'tis fimply and clearly de- 
 figned. 
 
 Painter. I perceive you are refolved to be
 
 The River Dove. 2 1 
 
 gentle with my firft eflaye ; but I am glad it 
 contents you, and now let us be going. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart. 
 
 Painter. How now ! here is a cheerful ri- 
 vulet, that I fee running from the meadows 
 into the road. 
 
 Angler. This is Brailsford Brook, and look 
 you, here is a bridge. 
 
 Painter. And yonder is a handfome church 
 and tower. I muft, with your leave, ftep into 
 thefe meadows and draw the landfkip. 
 
 jfngler. Aye, I befeech you ; for here is the 
 fpot of ground where the pleafant conference 
 began between Mr. Charles Cotton and his 
 new friend, that he accofted on the road as 
 they were both going to Aflibourne. 
 
 4 You are happily overtaken, Sir,' faid he ; 
 4 may a man be fo bold as to inquire how far you 
 4 travel this way f" 
 
 Painter. They were ftrangers, then ? 
 
 Angler. Neverthelefs they fo affeled one 
 another, after that falutation and other pleafant 
 difcourfe, as not to part company till they had 
 enjoyed fome days' innocent recreation a-fifhing 
 at Beresford Hall. Nay more, Viator declared, 
 on the fecond day, that he was 4 fo far in love 
 4 with Pifcator and his country, and pretty moor- 
 4 land feat, as to refolve to Jiay with him long
 
 22 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' enough, by intervals, to hear all he had to fay 
 ' of his art' 
 
 Painter. And pr'ythee, how did Mr. Cotton 
 reply to this familiar declaration ? 
 
 Angler. How did he reply ! with all the 
 politenefs of an angler ; * Sir, you cannot oblige 
 1 me more than by fuch a promife' 
 
 Painter. Well faid ! Then here they made 
 their firft acquaintance ? 
 
 Angler. And here is one of thofe little fpark- 
 ling brooks that you {hall meet every where in 
 this country ; nay, Mr. Cotton declares, 4 they 
 c are full of trouts, and fame of them the beft (it 
 4 is faid} by many degrees in England.' 
 
 Painter. Trouts ! and in fo mean a ftream 
 as this ? 
 
 Angler. But I do not fay they (hall be all big 
 trouts ; for, as Mr. Walton hath it, 4 fome 
 4 rivers, by reafon of the ground over which 
 4 they run, breed larger trouts, like as fome 
 4 paftures breed larger fheep ;' and fome ftreams 
 there are, not many times broader than Brails- 
 ford Brook, that breed trouts three and four 
 pounds in weight : but you may not think to 
 find the biggeft trouts at all times the beft meat. 
 And he that ftudies the nature and feafons of 
 fifties may obferve how fometimes the trouts 
 will change their haunts, and travel up a ftream
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 for many miles, in their natural defire after the 
 frefh waters ; nay, to the very fountain head of 
 fome brook, and there wade among the clear 
 fandy mallows ; indeed, I have feen trouts 
 taken out of the dark fprings that rife in the 
 caverns of the Great Peak underneath Caf- 
 tleton. 
 
 Painter. After what you fay, I doubt not 
 but Brailsford Brook may breed good trouts ; 
 and I care not whence they come, fo we have 
 a brace for fupper. 
 
 Angler. That I promife you, and fkilfully 
 dreft too : 
 
 ' For mark well, good brother, what now I doe fay, 
 ' Sauce made of anchoves is an excellent way, 
 ' With oyfters, and lemon, clove, nutmeg and mace, 
 ' When the brave fpotted trout hath been boyled apace, 
 ' With many fweet herbs.' 
 
 And this was the fafhion of an experienced 
 angler, that hath difcovered ' many rare fecrets^ 
 c very neceffary to be known by all that delight 
 c in the recreation both of catching the fi/h, and 
 ' drejjing thereof.''* 
 
 Painter. Aye, aye ; your meditative fimers 
 
 * ' The Art of Angling, written by Thomas Barker, 
 ' an ancient practitioner in the faid Art.' izmo. Lon- 
 don. 1651. ED. 
 
 2 3
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 have always fome fingular difcoveries to enhance 
 the practice of their art. I remember one 
 honeft gentleman,* of a moft fertile wit, called 
 angling the 4 Pleasure of Princes, or Goodmen's 
 4 Recreation.' 
 
 Angler. In that he did no more than was 
 both reafonable and true. 
 
 Painter. And the fame notable gentleman 
 unravelled this myftery, ' that the angler's ap- 
 4 parell fhould by no means be garifh, light 
 4 coloured, or fhining, for whatfoever hath a 
 1 glittering hue refle&eth upon the water, and 
 4 immediately it affrighteth the fifh.' 
 
 Angler. And this, before you and I have 
 done walking, you may prove to your coft, with 
 your gayfome doublet and jerkin. 
 
 Painter. So, Mafter Pifcator, c let your ap- 
 4 parell be plaine and comely, of darke colour, 
 * as ruflett, tawney, or fuch like, clofe to your 
 4 body, without any new fafhioned flames or 
 4 hanging fleeves waving loofe like fayles about 
 4 you.'f 
 
 Angler. Well, well ; in every art 'tis good 
 
 * Gervafe Markham. This book contains a Dif- 
 courfe of the general Art of Fifhing with the Angle or 
 otherwife : and all the hidden fecrets belonging thereto. 
 4-to. London. 1614. ED. 
 
 -f- Pleafure of Princes, ch. iii. p. 15. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 to have a mafter ; and that this is one of our 
 1 Secrets ,' thefe verfes of a happy angler may 
 declare : 
 
 ' And let your garments ruflet be or gray, 
 ' Of colour darke and hardeft to defcry, 
 
 ' That with the raine or weather will away, 
 ' And leaft offend the fearful filhes' eye. 
 
 ' For neither fcarlet, nor rich cloth of ray, 
 ' Nor colours dipt of frefti Affyrean dye, 
 
 ' Nor tender filkes of purple, paule of gold, 
 
 ' Will ferve fo well to keepe off wet or cold.' * 
 
 And pr'ythee look to your own tooles ; for you 
 will do well, if you have one of honeft Gervafe 
 Markham's Twelve Virtues of an Angler to 
 wit : 4 A knowledge in proportions of all forts, 
 * to give a geographical defcription of the an- 
 ' gles and channels of rivers, how they fall from 
 ' their heads, and what compafles they fetch in 
 4 their feveral windings. f 
 
 Painter. You mall fee you (hall fee but 
 I am ready to attend you, for I have drawn 
 this carelefs picture ; and fo let us towards 
 Afhbourne. Why, how is this ? We are 
 
 * The Secrets of Angling ; teaching the choiceft 
 tooles, baytes, and feafons for the taking of any fifti in 
 pond or river ; pra&iced and familiarly opened in three 
 Bookes. By J. D. Efq. 8vo. London. 1613. ED. 
 
 -f- Pleafure of Princes, ch. iii. p. 16. ED. 
 
 2 5
 
 26 'The River Dove. 
 
 fcarce two miles from Brailsford, and here we 
 have another rivulet ruftling through the grafs. 
 
 Angler. This brook before us, at the foot of 
 yon fandy hill, has been noticed by Mr. Cotton 
 to have ''fcarce any name amongft us, and to be 
 4 too woody for the recreation of fijhing? 
 
 Painter. That I may eafily believe, for it 
 feems but a narrow thread of water, winding 
 along the meadows, and almofl hid beneath 
 thofe am trees. 
 
 Angler. Yet, you may take a ftore of trouts 
 in this namelefs rivulet by Longford Mill, which 
 is not far from where we ftand ; and I have 
 the undoubted authority of Mr. John Davors 
 to fay, * the trout makes the angler moft gen- 
 4 tlemanlie and readieft fport of all other rimes.'* 
 But look before you, for we are now come 
 to the top of Spittle Hill, over againft Am- 
 bourne. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! and there the town lies 
 in a bottom ; and I declare a goodly church ! 
 and beyond it, on the other fide, I fee fome 
 ftately mountains, and one that lifts his top as 
 high as the clouds. 
 
 Angler. And therefore called Thorpe Cloud ; 
 and you are to note the Dove winds round 
 
 * Secrets of Angling, p. 20. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 27 
 
 the bafe, through her rugged channel of rocks. 
 Would I were there ! But I am fo bold as to 
 requeft a fketch of this chequered profpecl: be- 
 fore us from your lively pencil. 
 
 Painter. It {hall be done ; for it is, indeed, 
 a fine and fpacious landfkip ; and I mall be 
 happy if my poor drawings can give you fads- 
 faction. 
 
 Angler. They do, indeed ; fo I pray you 
 begin, and forget not yonder hills that are be- 
 hind the town, for we may hope ' to ftretch 
 c our legs up' fome of them by and by. But 
 how will you draw the natural perfpedtive of 
 the road, which now drops with fo great a 
 fteepnefs from before us ? 
 
 Painter. Thus it is here Viator and Pif- 
 cator difcourfe together. You may fee them in 
 outline, both on horfeback, and there is the fall 
 in the ground. 
 
 Angler. It is ingenioufly contrived ! But I 
 muft tell you Mr. Cotton travelled with his 
 ferving man therefore, fo pleafe you, let us 
 have a third rider that mould follow behind the 
 other two, for they were all mounted on horfe- 
 back. So ! that is admirable ; and I can now 
 fee before me the polite angler that allured 
 his companion to vifit his 'pretty moorland 
 feat' in Staffbrdmire. Oh, how the hours
 
 28 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 do lag ere we come to that l marvellous pretty 
 place.' 
 
 Painter. Was that the Beresford Hall you 
 fpoke of? 
 
 Angler. The fame : but if you defire to know 
 how they converted together as they arrived 
 at Spittle Hill, I will read it to you in Mr. 
 Cotton's own words, whiles you are to finim 
 the landfkip. 
 
 Painter. I am ready to hear it, and what is 
 more, to take a pleafure in liftening. 
 
 Angler. Well, you may note Pifcator was fo 
 pleafed with his companion, that he had ear- 
 neftly and honeftly invited him to his houfe, 
 and promifed he fhould be extremely welcome; 
 then Viator felt a furprife, 4 with fo friendly 
 4 an invitation upon fo J})ort acquaintance^ and 
 faid ' he could not in modejly accept his offer, 
 4 and mujl therefore beg his pardon ; ' but Mr. 
 Cotton would not be denied ; and at length, as 
 they drew near to Spittle Hill, where you and 
 I at this moment ftand, he repeated his invita- 
 tion, and faid, 4 Now, Sir, if I am not mijtaken, 
 4 I have half overcome you ; and that I may 
 4 wholly conquer that modefty of your' s, I will 
 4 take upon me to be fo familiar as to fay, you 
 1 muft accept my invitation^ which that you may 
 4 be the more eafily perfuaded to do, I -will tell
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 you, that my houfe Jlands upon the margin of 
 4 one of the fineft rivers for trout and grayling 
 4 in England^ (which you are to obferve was 
 the Dove,) ' and that I have lately built a little 
 4 fifhing-houfe upon it, dedicated to anglers, over 
 4 the door of which you will fee the two firft 
 4 letters of my father Walton's name and mine 
 4 twijled in cypher ; that you Jhall lie in the 
 4 fame bed he has fometimes been contented with, 
 4 and have fuch country entertainment as my 
 4 friends fometimes accept, and be welcome, too, as 
 4 the bejiofthem all: 
 
 Painter. Mr. Cotton has a cheerful natural 
 way with him ; and what a delight he takes in 
 his river Dove above all others, and his little 
 fiftiing-houfe upon the margin. 
 
 Angler. As witnefs thefe verfes he ad- 
 drefled to his adopted father, Mr. Izaak Wal- 
 ton : 
 
 ' Such dreams, Rome's yellow Tiber cannot (how, 
 
 ' The Iberian Tagus, or Ligurian Po ; 
 
 ' The Maefe, the Danube, and the Rhine 
 
 ' Are puddle water all, compared with thine : 
 
 ' And Loire's pure ftreams yet too polluted are 
 
 ' With thine much purer to compare : 
 
 ' The rapid Garonne, and the winding Seine, 
 
 ' Are both too mean, 
 
 ' Beloved Dove, with thee 
 
 ' To vie priority j
 
 3 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 Nay, Thame and Ifis when conjoin'd, fubmit, 
 ' And lay their trophies at thy filver feet.' * 
 
 And we fhall find it as pleafant as he has 
 reprefented it. And all this benevolence be- 
 tween Pifcator and Viator was, becaufe they 
 both affe&ed the perfon of Mr. Izaak Walton 
 and his art of angling. 
 
 Painter. How love will temper the fpirits 
 of men ! furely it is a fpark of the divine mind, 
 a fecret charm implanted in our nature to 
 mould us to the image of the Higheft. But 
 how came it to pafs that Viator participated in 
 Mr. Cotton's happy difmterefted friendfhip for 
 Mr. Walton ? 
 
 Angler. It is moft certain he did ; for when 
 they difcourfed on fifhing, and accidental men- 
 tion was made of Mr. Walton's Complete 
 Angler, Pifcator afked, c what is your opinion 
 4 of that book?' to which Mr. Cotton replied, 
 4 my opinion of Mr. Walton's book is the fame 
 c with every man's that under/lands any thing 
 1 of the art of angling^ that it is an excellent 
 c good one ; ' and he then added, ' but I muft tell 
 
 * RETIREMENT. Irregular ftanzas, addrefled to Mr. 
 Izaak Walton, and prefixed to Mr. Cotton's Inftruc- 
 tions how to angle for a Trout or Grayling in a clear 
 ftream. 1676. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 you further, that I have the happlnefs to know 
 4 his perfon, and to be intimately acquainted with 
 4 him, and in him to know the worthieft man, 
 1 and to enjoy the beft and the trueft friend any 
 4 man ever had; nay, I Jh all yet acquaint you 
 4 that he gives me leave to call him father, and 
 4 I hope is not yet ajhamed to own me for his 
 4 Adopted Son.' Whereupon Viator replied, 
 4 In earnejl, Sir ! I am ravijhed to meet with a 
 4 friend of Mr. Izaak Walton's, and one that 
 4 does him fo much right in a good and true cha- 
 4 rafter, for I muft boajl to you that I have the 
 4 good fortune to know him too, and came ac- 
 4 quainted with him in the fame manner I do 
 4 with you ; that he was my majler who firjl 
 4 taught me to love angling, and thus to become 
 4 an angler ; and to be plain with you, I am the 
 4 very man decyphered in his book under the name 
 4 of Venator.' 
 
 Painter. Excellent ! that was a pleafant fur- 
 prife to him ! 
 
 Angler. 4 For,' (he continues) 4 / was wholly 
 4 addifted to the chafe, until he taught me as 
 4 good a more quiet, innocent, and lefs dangerous 
 4 diver/ion.' And this alfo Mr. Roger Jackfon 
 declares, who undertook the printing of the 
 SECRETS OF ANGLING, 4 out of a virtuous de- 
 4 fire to give his countrie fatisfa&ion ; ' for he 
 
 3 1
 
 3 2 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 declared, in his dedication of that book to his 
 much refpected friend Mr. John Harborne, of 
 Tackley, in the county of Oxford, Efquire, 
 that, c the art of angling is much more worthy 
 c practice and approbation than hunting and 
 4 hawking ; for it is a fport every way as plea- 
 4 fant, lefs chargeable, more profitable, and 
 c nothing fo much fubjedt to choller and impa- 
 4 tience as thofe are.' And now liften to the 
 anfwer of Pifcator, for he faid, 4 Sir, I think 
 ' my felf happy in your acquaintance, and before 
 1 we party jhall entreat leave to embrace you. 
 c You have faid enough to recommend you to my 
 4 bejl opinion, for my father Walton will be feen 
 4 twice in no man's company he does not like ; and 
 4 likes none but fuck as he believes to be very 
 4 honejl men.' Thus you may note how the 
 declaration of Viator, that he was acquainted 
 with Mr. Walton, touched a chord which vi- 
 brated to the other's affections, and harmonized 
 their fpirits to a moft innocent friendfhip. 
 
 Painter. What an engaging encounter of 
 the two ftrangers, who thus difcovered to each 
 other their affection for pious and peaceable 
 Mr. Walton ! With what a grace doth holi- 
 nefs encircle him that wears it ! furely 'tis a 
 crown without thorns or cares, decked with 
 fpiritual jewels. I declare to you, I am moved
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 to a better acquaintance with all three : not- 
 withftanding I have always looked upon angling 
 to be a folitary recreation, not worthy fo much 
 as our vacant hours. 
 
 Angler. I hope before we part company you 
 will be undeceived, and learn how we anglers 
 can recreate our fpirits, when the fun rifes over 
 the hills ; and this I promife in reward for 
 your fudden refolve to come on your travels 
 with me, only to the intent that by your art 
 and fociable converfation you might give me 
 pleafure. 
 
 Painter. I now thank you heartily, becaufe 
 you moved me to this journey ; nay more, if 
 I might believe my prefent thoughts, I {hall be 
 furprifed into a defire to try and angle in the 
 river Dove, that you take fo great a delight in. 
 
 Angler. That were ftrange indeed, to fee 
 your leifure divided between the pencil and the 
 angle rod ! yet if I could once inveigle you to 
 the practice of our harmlefs fport, fb full of 
 hopes and compofure, you would foon confefs 
 to its excellency, and fay with the unknown 
 poet,* 
 
 * ' Unknown,' becaufe Walton afcribes the ' SE- 
 * CRETS OF ANGLING' to the pen of Jo. Davors, 
 Elquire : but Mr. Roger Jackfon, by whom they were 
 publifhed, ' after the death of the author,' entered them 
 
 33
 
 34 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' Oh let me rather on the pleafant brink 
 
 ' Of Tyne and Trent pofTefs fome dwelling place, 
 
 ' Where I may fee my quill and cork down fink 
 ' With eager bite of barbel, bleik, or dace. 
 
 ' Let other men their paftimes, then, purfue, 
 
 ' And on their pleafmg fancies feed their fill : 
 ' So I the fields and meadows green may view, 
 ' And by the rivers frefli may walk at will, 
 ' Among the daifies and the violets blue, 
 ' Red hyacinth and yellow daffodil, 
 
 ' Purple narciffus like the morning rays, 
 ' Pale ganderglafs and azure culverkayes. 
 
 ' The lofty woods ; the forefts wide and long, 
 
 ' Adorn'd with leaves and branches frefh and green, 
 ' In whofe cool bow'rs the birds with chaunting fong 
 ' Do welcome with their quire the fummer's queen, 
 ' The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts among 
 ' Are intermixed the verdant grafs between. 
 ' The filver fcaled fifti that foftly fwim 
 ' Within the brooks and cryftal wat'ry brim. 
 
 ' All thefe and many more of His creation 
 
 ' That made the heavens, the angler oft doth fee, 
 
 ' And takes therein no little delegation 
 
 ' To think how ftrange and wonderful they be.' 
 
 Painter. Why, Sir, your faithful memory 
 is like a cafket, well ftored with curious gems, 
 
 at the Stationers' Company, * 1612, 23 Martii, as prac- 
 f tifed and opened in three books, by JOHN DENNYS, 
 ' Efquire. 1 ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 that you unlock at will to embellifh your dif- 
 courfe withal : and now here is my pi&ure of 
 Spittle Hill. 
 
 Angler. It is an obvious copy of nature, and 
 a fweet view over Afhbourne. 
 
 Painter. The brow of fuch a hill gives the 
 advantage of a large profpecl:. 
 
 Angler. And now, if you pleafe, we may fol- 
 low the fteps of thefe gentlemen riders, and 
 defcend into Afhbourne. See, we are come 
 to the town, and here is the River Henmore, 
 that runs under this ftone bridge ; and this is 
 the way to the market-place. 
 
 Painter. What is there ? methinks I fee an 
 ivy bum ; and the fign of an inn. 
 
 Angler. That is the Talbot, and a very de- 
 cent hoftelry ; fo let us c drink a glafs of barley 
 1 wine at the Talbot, and awayj after the ex- 
 ample of Mr. Cotton and his new friend. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart. Was this Mr. 
 Cotton's Inn ? 
 
 Angler. Aye, truly. What, oh ! good man, 
 will you pleafe to bring us a cup of ale ? 
 
 Painter. Come, brother, here's to Mr. Wal- 
 ton, and his adopted fon, Mr. Charles Cotton? 
 
 Angler. I thank you for that pledge ; and 
 here is my loving fervice to you. 
 
 Painter. And now let us be gone ; for fmce 
 
 35
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 we are come into this valley, I am all impa- 
 tience to find your River Dove, which, me- 
 thinks, fhould be hereabouts. 
 
 Angler. Not fo faft, Sir ; we muft climb 
 that fteep hill on the other fide of the town ; 
 and after that we have fome hours before we 
 {hall fee the moft pleafant river in England. 
 
 Painter. How ! methought Afhbourne was 
 clofe upon the margin of the Dove ! 
 
 Angler. It is but a furlong or two off; never- 
 thelefs we have to make a circuit before we 
 come to that moft delightful of rivers ; for 
 truft me the road to Beresford Hall is over 
 4 an odd country.' 
 
 Painter. It was but now you promifed I 
 mould fee ' fuch alluring fcenes, decked by 
 c Nature's hand as to be little fpots of enchant- 
 ' ment ;' and now you tell me I muft be fatis- 
 fied to fee an odd country ! 
 
 jfngler. Nay, good brother ; remember how 
 you are to exercife the meeknefs and patience 
 of an angler ; and you fhall confefs, when you 
 fee my Dove, that it l covers the faults of the 
 ' road;' and fo let me perfuade you to breaft the 
 hill. 
 
 Painter. Well, Sir, lead on ; and I mail en- 
 deavour to be even with you. Heigho ! at laft 
 we are clambered up.
 
 The River Dove. 37 
 
 Angler. It was done with a gamefome fpirit, 
 worthy of an angler. 
 
 Painter. But it has made me pant : and 
 here's a fhady am tree, fo let us reft awhile, 
 that I may recover myfelf. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart ; and ftretch our 
 limbs on this green bank : and I may tell you, 
 
 this pretty fpot is Sandy Brook. And now, 
 
 if you are refted, let us not loiter, but hither 
 away to the left, down by this green lane. 
 
 Painter. I am with you ; but what have 
 we here ? another fwift bubbling ftream, that 
 flows over a rocky bed, and is fcarce a foot deep. 
 
 Angler. 'Tis Bentley Brook, that whirls 
 haftily along to meet her playmate, the Dove. 
 
 Painter. And, by my word, a very pretty 
 rivulet it is. 
 
 Angler. I have Mr. Cotton's authority to 
 fay, ' it is full of good trout s and graylings^ but 
 4 fo encumbered with wood in many places as is 
 c troublefome to an angler? 
 
 Painter. Whereabouts does it rife ? 
 
 Angler. That I cannot refolve you ; but you 
 are not to wonder if the ftream comes to us, 
 as you now fee it, like to tranfparent cryftal : 
 for the flowering wells of Tiffington empty 
 themfelves, with a conftant frefhnefs, into Bent- 
 ley Brook.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. Thofe Tiffington Wells, which are 
 flowered on holy-days by the country folk ? 
 
 Angler. The fame ; and of a fingular clear- 
 nefs ; nay, they are more tranfparent than the 
 filvery waters of famed Sabrina, where 
 
 ' The fhepherds, at their feftivals, 
 ' Carol her goodnefs loud in ruftic lays, 
 ' And throw fweet garland-wreaths into her ftream, 
 ' Of pancies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils ; ' 
 
 and, indeed, I have fometimes feen on Holy 
 Thurfday fuch dainty devices of flowers wrought 
 by ruftical artifts at Tiffington, in rofes, and 
 violets, and marygolds, and ladyfmocks, as I 
 could not but admire how it was all contrived ; 
 and for this the country folks and fhepherds 
 fcatter themfelves, fome days before, in bufy 
 cheerful companies, like bees, over the hills 
 and down the dales, to cull their ftores of wild 
 flowers ; and every one willingly robs his gar- 
 den, for a contribution to the bowers and ar- 
 bours that overhang the wells : and there they 
 weave them into curious inventions of mottoes 
 and fcripture texts. And when the happy holy 
 morning breaks, they come together to church ; 
 and after fervice they walk, with their loved 
 and loving parfon at their head, in a proceffion 
 round about their ornamental wells, with mufic
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 and Tinging of pfalms : and fo they pafs the reft 
 of the day in innocent mirth and country fports. 
 And I may tell you, the many-coloured flowers 
 of Dove Dale are offered for a tribute to this 
 calendar feftival. 
 
 Painter. You have made we wifh and re- 
 folve to fee this well-flowering, come next Holy 
 Thurfday ; and I mall love thofe facred fprings 
 the better, fmce they help to cryftallize the 
 waters of Bentley ; for I have not feen a more 
 inviting brook. 
 
 Angler. I will not fay we mall come to 
 clearer ftreams ; neverthelefs, I hope we may 
 walk and angle by fome others that are as 
 good : but thither me hurries on her way, re- 
 joicing and being rejoiced ; and I warrant me 
 will find the Dove before you and I may do fo. 
 But come, here is another hill before us, hard 
 by Thorpe Cloud ; and I'll requite your pa- 
 tience by a vernal profpecl:. Follow me but a 
 ftep to the left, and now what fay you ? 
 
 Painter. Blefs me, what an unufual land- 
 fkip. 
 
 Angler. There before you are the mountains 
 in Staffordmire over againft Ham ; and yonder 
 the Dove, which glides far off through the val- 
 ley by Oakover Bridge, and after that mean- 
 ders as far as Mayfield. There you may fee 
 
 39
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 hill and dale, and green paftures, with their 
 thronging flocks and herds. Now tell me, 
 Sir, is not merry England a place moft fit for 
 free-hearted gentlemen to live in ? And he that 
 makes a journey throughout the different re- 
 gions of our land fhall meet a thoufand vales 
 as pleafant as this we now fee : nay, fbme I 
 could name are better, where you may look on 
 all the diverfity of golden corn fields, and paf- 
 tures, and vallies and hills, rivers and plains ; 
 and round about many fine country manfion- 
 houfes, and bright fteeples, gleaming through 
 village-woods ; and in the cities high cathedrals 
 and collegiate churches, more venerable and 
 facred by reafon of their daily appointed fer- 
 vices and chaunts. 
 
 Painter. But a man may travel fome miles 
 ere he mall light on a finer champagne than 
 this before us. It calls to my mind how the 
 prophet, from the top of Mount Pifgah, in the 
 field of Zophim, lifted up his eyes, and faw 
 Ifrael abiding in his tents according to their 
 tribes, and faid, c How goodly are thy tents, O 
 4 yacob ! and thy tabernacles, O Ifrael / as the 
 4 valleys are they fpread forth, as gardens by the 
 1 river's Jide, as the trees of lign-aloes which the 
 4 Lord hath planted, and as cedar-trees beftde 
 4 the waters .' Long may the people of Britain
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 be holy and ftedfaft in the church, and loyal to 
 their king ! then {hall they refemble the tribes 
 of Ifrael, having, as it were, c thejtrength of an 
 ' unicorn ; they Jhall eat up the nations, their 
 4 enemies , and Jhall break their bones, and pierce 
 4 them through with their arrows? Then they 
 fhall l couch, they Jhall lie down like a lion, and 
 c as a great lion ; who fl)allftir them up ?' Then 
 c blejfed is he that blej/eth thee, and curfed is he 
 c that curfeth thee.' But what have we here, 
 that is like a huge conical barrow ? Let us 
 climb to the top, that we may get a wider prof- 
 peel: of the landfkip. 
 
 Angler. The fame Thorpe Cloud you faw 
 fo towering in the diftance from Spittle Hill ; 
 but he now appears under another afpe6t, and 
 before you could fcale the height you muft 
 needs defcend into a deep valley which lies be- 
 tween us. 
 
 Painter. Say you fo ? I can fcarce believe 
 it ; for the diftance looks to be lefs than a 
 bow-fhoot. 
 
 Angler. It is, neverthelefs, true ; and yonder, 
 to the left, is Bunfter Hill, in Staffordfhire, 
 that is like the back of a gigantic elephant : and 
 between thefe two mountains flow the happy 
 ftreams of the Dove ; and that to the right 
 hand is Black Moor : we have but two miles
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 hence, and then our Dove. 
 
 Painter. If fo, let us mend our pace ; but 
 tell me, is this the way Mr. Cotton brought his 
 friend ? 
 
 Angler. The fame ; and all the while he 
 entertained him with a difcourfe of the trouty 
 rivers of his county of Derby, as, namely, the 
 Dove, the Wye, the Derwent, and the great 
 Trent, that wanders through many rich towns 
 and forefts, until it lofes its name and waters 
 in the fea. 
 
 Painter. And is all Mr. Charles Cotton's 
 treatife of fly fifhing in the form of a dialogue ? 
 
 jfngler. Aye ; and full of pertinent obferva- 
 tions and exceeding plaufiblenefs. 
 
 Painter. Although I am willing to confefs 
 Mr. Walton's Angler to be a moft perfuafive 
 book, becaufe he knows how to qualify his 
 difcourfe with all kinds of graceful changes and 
 defcriptions ; yet methinks Mr. Cotton had no 
 need to model his writings after the unufual 
 example of a dialogue. 
 
 jfngler. By your leave, not fb unufual ; for 
 have you forgot the many patterns that almoft 
 every age hath produced, of treatifes, both 
 learned and witty, in the form of colloquies ? 
 Let me bring to your mind that moft fubtle 
 and philofophic dialogue, the ' Sympofiac, or
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Banquet' of Plato, the moft learned of the 
 Grecians, wherein his mafter, Socrates^ is made 
 to difcourfe with a wifdom that feemed to be a 
 fcintillation of divine truth. And not only 
 Plato's c Banquet,' but his ' Alcibiades,' and 
 others, fo full of invincible arguments in fup- 
 port of virtue, as charmed the underftanding of 
 that age. 
 
 Painter. Well, if you will go back to an- 
 cient times, there are Tully's five days' difputa- 
 tions at his retired Tufculan villa with Marcus 
 Brutus, where he perfuades his hearers by the 
 moft notable arguments to the contempt of 
 death. 
 
 Angler. And what fay you of that banquet 
 of Xenophon, at the Athenian feftival of Mi- 
 nerva ? for he gives us to underftand how, 
 after the (how was finifhed, as he walked out 
 of the city, he fell in with Socrates and others, 
 difcourfmg together, and invited them civilly 
 to fupper ; which they accepted, and went with 
 him to his houfe at Piraeus. 
 
 Painter. I remember ; and there they enter- 
 tained each other with learned and profitable 
 converfation. 
 
 Angler. But neither the philofophy of So- 
 crates and Plato y nor the eloquence of TH//X, 
 could match with that exalted wifdom of the 
 
 43
 
 44 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 apoftolic fathers and doctors, who have de- 
 livered to the Church the moft clear interpre- 
 tations of holy writ. And fome of them un- 
 locked the boundlefs treafures of celeftial truth, 
 and pointed the way to heaven, through the 
 fhadowings and darknefs of error, by the me- 
 dium of colloquies. As Hermas (who was the 
 friend of St. Paul, that great apoftle of the 
 Gentiles) in his c Paftor or Shepherd.' 
 
 Painter. Have not fome learned men of our 
 times, and, indeed, of the ancient fathers, quef- 
 tioned the authority of that book of Hermas ? 
 
 Angler. I may not deny that the cautious 
 judgments of fome are yet divided upon it : but 
 Irenasus, Origen, and others, have pronounced 
 it to be c a very profitable book,' and it was 
 appointed to be read in many of the earlieft 
 chriftian churches. 
 
 Painter. I believe it is true, that Hermas 
 was the friend of St. Paul, and is thought to 
 have fealed his holy life by a glorious martyr- 
 dom. 
 
 Angler. And it is certain his book was com- 
 pofed in the form of a dialogue : for he declares 
 how, when he had prayed at home, and was 
 fat down upon the bed, an old man came to 
 him in the habit of a fhepherd, clothed with 
 a white cloak, having his bag upon his back,
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 and his ftaff in his hand, and faluted him ; and 
 thereupon they moft lovingly converfed toge- 
 ther : for the (hepherd inftructed him what 
 things he was to avoid, and what good works 
 to perform, that he might be faved. 
 
 Painter. And what followed ? 
 
 Angler. Then Hermas, from time to time, 
 queftioned the holy fhepherd with a modeft 
 confidence, and afked an explanation of many 
 fublime points of our belief, that were then 
 to him an incomprehenfible myftery, all which 
 the accoftable ftranger revealed to him, fpeak- 
 ing with authority and wifdom : and fo they 
 continued to difcourfe, until the paftor rofe up 
 and departed.* 
 
 Again I will put you in mind how, in a later 
 age of the church, holy Juftin Martyr records 
 a moft learned and fpiritual dialogue, which he 
 held at Ephefus with one Trypho, a Jew, 
 wherein he fets forth his own firft blefled con- 
 verfion to Chriftianity. For, having in vain 
 fought after the knowledge of the true God in 
 the fchools of the Stoics and Peripatetics, and 
 
 * Originally written in Greek ; but that being loft, 
 there is only a Latin verfion, fuppofed to have been 
 made by Rufinus in the 4th century. Editio princeps, 
 PASTOR a Nic. Gerbellio. Lat. Argent. 1522. 4 ED. 
 
 45
 
 4 6 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 found them to be unfatisfying to the high de- 
 fines of his foul, he gave himfelf up to folitude 
 and meditation : and, in one of his retired walks 
 on the fea-fhore, meeting with an aged perfon 
 of a mild and reverend afpe&, he entered into 
 a converfation with him. Then he told the 
 ftranger how fervent a zeal was kindled in his 
 breaft to come to a perfect intelligence of the 
 nature of God, and fo fell to a commendation 
 of the ftudy of philofophy. Whereupon the 
 venerable Trypho endeavoured to cure him of 
 his ignorant admiration of Plato and Pythago- 
 ras^ and exhorted him to an examination of the 
 writings of the Hebrew prophets, as being 
 more ancient than any of thofe heathen philo- 
 fophers ; and by his admonitions and clear ar- 
 guments he opened to him the joyful know- 
 ledge of the facred myfteries of Chriftianity. 
 Above all things, he perfuaded him to pray 
 that the beams of heavenly light might mine on 
 his benighted foul ; for that the truths of the 
 Gofpel muft be fpiritually difcerned through the 
 power of God. 
 
 Painter. Did Juftin continue his acquain- 
 tance with the ftranger, whofe calm and meek 
 way of difcourfing had perfuaded him to a bet- 
 ter judgment of divine things ? 
 
 Angler. After that firft meeting he never
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 faw him again ; but he was ftirred with a holy 
 defire to attain a more familiar knowledge of 
 the prophets, and his wifhes foared up on high ; 
 and at laft he was convinced that he had all 
 along wandered in darknefs, and that the Holy 
 Scriptures contained the only true philofophy. 
 
 Painter. All this brings to my recollection 
 fbme other examples of books compofed after 
 the form of converfations: as namely, Petrarch's 
 imaginary dialogues between himfelf and Auguf- 
 tine, where the faint endeavours to withdraw 
 the poet from the willing thraldom of his love 
 for Laura, and to perfuade him to the ftudy of 
 wifdom, as alone capable to beftow true liberty : 
 and, again, the facetious Colloquia of Erafmus, 
 fo full of wit and biting fatire ; and the ' Ana- 
 4 tomie of Abufes whipped and ftripped,' by the 
 precife Mr. Stubbes, proceeding from his own 
 dogmatical whimfies. 
 
 Angler. Then, forget not the three books of 
 colloquies, on the art of {hooting in great and 
 fmall pieces of artillerie, written in Italian by 
 Nicholas Tartaglia.* And again, that royal 
 dialogue of riding the great horfe, compofed in 
 
 * Tranflated into Englifh by Cyprian Lucas, Gent, 
 folio, 1588. Tartaglia was a famous mathematician. 
 ED. 
 
 47
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 the French tongue, by Monfieur Antoine Plu- 
 vinel ; * and I can declare it to be a moft cour- 
 teous, gentle, and ingenious converfation be- 
 tween the young King Louis, the Duke of Belle- 
 garde, and Monfieur Antoine himfelf. With 
 what a rare eloquence does he commend and 
 teach the art of making demivoltes, cabrioes, and 
 courbettes, with all the other graceful motions 
 on horfeback, moft fit for gentlemen of quality ! 
 
 Painter. And his book is adorned v/ith ex- 
 cellent copper cuts by Crifpin Pafs, the inge- 
 nious engraver of thofe living effigies of the 
 HEROOLOGIA. 
 
 Angler. The fame : but I forbear all further 
 mention of dialogues, except a little book I 
 lately faw at the houfe of an ingenious and 
 modeft friend, dwelling in Chancery-lane, in 
 London, who is a conftant lover of Mr. Walton 
 and his art of angling, and endeared to many 
 of his profefled difciples ; and hath been fo 
 exact and fkilful a promoter of letters, as to be 
 called ALDI DISCIPULUS ANGLUS, as witnefs 
 the fign of the Dolphin and Anchor, engraved 
 on the title of his imprinted books, after the 
 fafhion of Aldus Manutius. And becaufe he 
 
 * A gentleman of Dauphiny in the reign of Henry 
 IV. Par. 1640. Fol. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 has a happy fortune in the difcovery of ancient 
 books, you may find at his houfe a ftore of all 
 kinds. It was a few days before my laft de- 
 parture from London, I made him a vifit, when 
 he conducted me into his parlour, to mow me 
 his little cabinet of rarities : and there, after 
 fome cheerful converfation on fifhing, when I 
 told him I purpofed my fummer travels to the 
 Dove, he prefented me with a letter writ by 
 Mr. Cotton to his ' dear and worthy father,' 
 Mr. Izaak Walton. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! and I dare believe you 
 treafured it up with your many other written 
 epiftles of noted men in your ftudy at home. 
 
 Angler. Pardon me ; I have made it my 
 companion here in my wallet ; and fome day I 
 will indulge you with the reading of it, when 
 you are worthy, and put on better thoughts of 
 anglers. But to return to the book I told you 
 of; it is an ancient difcourfe * Of the Nature of 
 ' GOD,' which the writer calls < a little treatife 
 ' of a great argument.' 
 
 Painter. The argument was great indeed, 
 and I befeech you proceed to your account of 
 it. 
 
 Angler. The work was writ by the learned, 
 pious and painful Bimop of Durham (Morton), 
 who made Dr. Donne the offer of his own 
 
 H 
 
 49
 
 5 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 benefice, if he would be perfuaded to enter into 
 Holy Orders, and fo become 4 an Ambaffador 
 for the God of glory ; that God^ who^ by a vile 
 death opened the gates of life to mankind :' and 
 it is fit to tell you that I fet the greater ftore 
 by this book, becaufe I am convinced Mr. 
 Walton hath taken a pleafure in the perufal of 
 it, infomuch as to make the opening chapter of 
 his COMPLETE ANGLER after that model. It 
 is a converfation betwixt a gentleman and a 
 fcholar, who were travelling on horfeback from 
 the north, by the fame road, to the city of York ; 
 and thus it begins 
 
 4 Gentleman.* Well overtaken, Sir. 
 
 * Scholar. You are welcome, gentleman. 
 
 4 Gentleman. No great gentleman, Sir, but 
 4 one that wifheth well to all that mean well : I 
 c pray you how far do you travel this way ? 
 
 * Scholar. As far as York. 
 
 4 Gentleman. I mould be glad if I might have 
 4 your company thither. 
 
 4 Scholar. And I, if my company might ftand 
 4 you in any ftead.' 
 
 Thereupon enfued a gentle and moft inge- 
 
 * London, Printed by Thomas Creede for Robert 
 Dexter, dwelling in St. Paul's Church-yard, at the fign 
 of the Brazen Serpent. 1599. izmo. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 5 1 
 
 nious converfation : and they argued the myf- 
 terious matter of the omnipotency and incom- 
 prehenfible greatnefs of God, to their mutual 
 contentment and confirmation in the truth, until 
 they came to Newcaftle, where the fcholar's 
 little nag would fcarce hold foot with the ftrong 
 gelding of the gentleman ; and fo they put up 
 at fome honeft houfe where the fcholar was 
 acquainted, and were both heartily welcome, 
 c and honeftly ufed for their money.' And there 
 we will leave them to their entertainment and 
 reft, and crofs this meadow of buttercups. 
 
 Painter. You have angled me on, and be- 
 guiled the way with thefe colloquies moft plea- 
 fantly ; for we have walked fbme miles, and I 
 heartily thank you. 
 
 Angler. Look, Sir ; now you have a view 
 of fome rocks before you in a little diftance ; 
 there are the fteep declivities overhanging the 
 other fide of the Dove, which is at a great 
 depth below. A few fteps more, and we are 
 come to Hanfon Grange. 
 
 Painter. It is a pretty fequeftered fpot ; and 
 the houfe ftands on the very brow of the cliff, 
 which is ornamented with wood j and I hope 
 we are arrived at Dove Dale. 
 
 Angler. Have patience : not yet, Sir ; this 
 is Nab's Dale : but turn again this way to the
 
 5 2 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 right, for there is Hanfon Toot. And look, 
 yonder is the church at Alftonfields ; and, I 
 befeech you ; deny me not the contrivance of a 
 picture. 
 
 Painter. I'll do it cheerfully ; and the hills 
 array themfelves to an advantage. What a 
 general harmony is in the works of nature ! 
 Here, by a few lines, with feeming careleflhefs 
 put together, even thofe bleak and craggy hills 
 are made to the congruity and order of beauty ; 
 and the afpecT: of the church on the hill is pretty 
 for a diftance. 
 
 Angler. And when you are come there, you 
 fhall find a retired village, and a decent houfe 
 of entertainment ; where we may have fupper 
 and a clean bed. 
 
 Painter. Was it there Pifcator cheered his 
 companion after his journey ? 
 
 Angler. Not fo : for Mr. Cotton conducted 
 him to his handfome feat at Beresford, and there 
 you may believe he made amends, as he pro- 
 mifed to do, for bringing him ' an ill mile or 
 4 two out of his way ;' for he gave him a hearty 
 welcome ; and after that they made no ftran- 
 gers of each other, but with good Moorland ale 
 and a pipe of tobacco pafled an hour or two in 
 converfation before they went to bed. 
 
 Painter. And I am ready to do the fame ;
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 fo let us be going, for there is my poor copy of 
 Alftonfields church. 
 
 Angler. It is the church itfelf, and thofe 
 diftant hills, that ftand behind it with a natural 
 gloom. Come on, Sir. 
 
 Painter. Gently, fo pleafe you j and let me 
 take care of myfelf down thefe flippery ftones. 
 How the path winds and turns in a zig-zag ! I 
 fhall tumble ere I get to the bottom. 
 
 Angler. Never fear, Sir ! never fear ; every 
 flippery ftone and every ftep of the way has a 
 charm for me ; for here it was Mr. Cotton 
 travelled with his friend, who was in a ftrange 
 taking as he crept or flided down. 
 
 Painter. And well he might be, for it is an 
 uncouth precipice : it is the land of break-neck. 
 
 Angler. A little fteep, I grant you; but 
 come on, for methinks we are near c tbejign 
 ' of a bridge J which is fb narrow, Viator thought 
 it was fit only for wheelbarrows, and declared 
 he was inclinable to c go over on all fours : ' fo 
 look out. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Sir ; but to look out for any 
 thing beyond my footing, is more than man can 
 do in fuch a ribble rabble place as this. 
 
 Angler. Come, brother, give over this com- 
 plaining: for, look you, there is the l wheel- 
 c barrow bridge ; ' and liften to the river below. 
 
 53
 
 54 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 
 How the noife of her waters falls on mine ear 
 
 
 [ike the voice of melody ! Welcome, cryftal 
 Dove ; for we purpofe to caft away fome inno- 
 cent hours in thy cool recefles. 
 
 
 ' Oh my beloved nymph, fair Dove, 
 ' Princefs of rivers, how I love 
 ' Upon thy flowery banks to lie, 
 * And view the filver ftream 
 
 
 ' When gilded by a fummer's beam ! 
 * And in it all thy wanton fry 
 * Playing at liberty ; 
 ' And with my angle upon them 
 ' The all of treachery 
 ' I ever learned induftrioufly to try.' * 
 
 
 Painter. Now we are fafely down ; and the 
 river ruftles merrily under the bridge, crifping 
 itfelf into foam. And what hamlet is yonder, 
 on the Staffordmire fide, with a cheerful mill ? 
 Angler. That is Mill Dale, and there lies the 
 road to Alftonfields. 
 
 
 Painter. Let us be forward ; for the fun 
 
 
 finks down apace, 
 
 
 * Bidding farewell unto the gloomy fky.' 
 
 
 Angler. Stay a while : if you have any affec- 
 tion for me, you will not pafs by this enchant- 
 
 * THE RETIREMENT. Irregular ftanzas by Charles 
 Cotton. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ing glen, and leave me no record. Look again 
 fee how the evening gleams linger over the 
 tops of the mountains. I befeech you, fit on 
 ' this broad Jionej and draw me a picture. 
 
 Painter. This landfkip needs a better hand 
 than mine to give the natural fall of the rocks, 
 and throw that bridge and the mill into a deep 
 perfpective. 
 
 Angler. You are too modeft ; fo pr'ythee 
 begin, and I'll fit by your fide, and repeat you 
 fome paftoral verfes compofed by famed Sir 
 Walter Raleigh. 
 
 Painter. Come, then, tune your voice to the 
 air. 
 
 * And loudly fmg a roundelay of love.' 
 
 Angler. Shall I give you c Phillida's love-call 
 ' to her Coridon^ and his replying ? ' 
 Painter. Aye, do fo. 
 Angler, [fings.j 
 
 ' Coridon, arife my Coridon.' 
 
 Painter. Sing, I pray you, boldly, that the 
 rocks may anfwer with an echo. 
 
 Angler. I'll do my beft ; for the Paftoral is 
 worthy, and full of an innocent love. Let me 
 fee if I can remember me how it runs, [/ings.]
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 PHILLIDA'S LOVE-CALL TO HER CORIDON, 
 AND HIS REPLYING. 
 
 Phil. Coridon, arife, my Coridon, 
 
 Titan fhineth clear. 
 Cor. Who is it that calleth Coridon ? 
 
 Who is it that I hear ? 
 Phil. Phillida, thy true love calleth thee ; 
 
 Arife then, arife then ; 
 Arife, and keep thy flock with me 
 Cor. Phillida, my true love, is it fhe ? 
 
 I come then, I come then ; 
 I come to keep my flock with thee. 
 Phil. Here are cherries ripe for my Coridon ; 
 
 Eat them for my fake. 
 Cor. Here's my oaten pipe, my lovely one, 
 
 Sport for thee to make. 
 Phil. Here are threads, my true love, fine as filk, 
 
 To knit thee, to knit thee 
 A pair of ftockings as white as milk. 
 Cor. Here are reeds, my true love, fine and neat, 
 
 To make thee, to make thee 
 A bonnet to withftand the heat. 
 Phil. I will gather flowers, my Coridon, 
 
 To fet in thy cap. 
 Cor. I will gather pears, my lovely one, 
 
 To put in thy lap. 
 Phil. I will buy my true love garters gay, 
 
 For Sundays, for Sundays, 
 To wear about his legs fo tall. 
 Cor. I will buy my true love yellow fey,* 
 
 * Silk. ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 57 
 
 For Sundays, for Sundays, 
 To wear about her middle fmall. 
 Phil. When my Coridon fits on a hill, 
 
 Making melody. 
 Cor. When my lovely goes to her wheel, 
 
 Singing cheerily. 
 Phil, Surely, methinks, my true love doth excel, 
 
 For fweetnefs, for fweetnefs, 
 Our Pan, that old Arcadian knight. 
 Cor. And, methinks my true love bears the bell, 
 
 For clearnefs, for clearnefs, 
 Beyond the nymphs that be fo bright. 
 Phil, Had my Coridon, my Coridon, 
 
 Been, alack ! my fwain : 
 Cor. Had my lovely one, my lovely one, 
 
 Been in Ida plain : 
 Phil. Cynthia Endymion had refus'd, 
 
 Preferring, preferring 
 My Coridon to play with-all. 
 Cor. The Queen of Love had been excufed, 
 
 Bequeathing, bequeathing 
 My Phillida the golden ball. 
 Phil. Yonder comes my mother, Coridon ! 
 
 Whither mall I fly ? 
 Cor. Under yon beach, my lovely one, 
 
 While me pafTeth by. 
 Phil. Say to her thy true love was not here. 
 
 Remember, remember, 
 To-morrow is another day. 
 Cor. Doubt me not, my true love ; do not fear : 
 
 Farewell, then, farewell then. 
 Heaven keep our loves alway. 
 
 Painter. Thank you, thank you ; that is a
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 well-tuned gladfome paftoral, and as well fung 
 as it is compofed ; and I will now confefs, this 
 walk to the Dove, and the frefhnefs of the 
 Derbyfhire hills, and, above all, the ingenious 
 delight you take in following Mr. Cotton's 
 footfteps, have put new thoughts into my mind. 
 There is the beft picture I can make for you ; 
 but I am not a limner to fix thofe intricate 
 lights and fhadows that flit from one rock to 
 another with the pafling clouds. 
 
 Angler* Truly, Sir, it could not be better 
 compofed ; and now let us towards Alftonfields, 
 and over the wheelbarrow bridge. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart : but not c on all 
 4 fours' Obferve how the water hurries away, 
 rippling over the rocky bed. 
 
 Angler. Ah ! faw you that, Sir ? 
 
 Painter. I faw nothing : what was it ? 
 
 Angler. It was a hungry trout rofe at a fly : 
 now, by your leave, I muft have the delight to 
 try my poor fkill in the Dove. That trout has 
 tranfported me beyond difcretion. 
 
 Painter. You have my permiflion ; fo fix 
 your tackling and go to work. 
 
 dngler. There again : did you not fee him 
 rife ? 
 
 Painter. I faw him not. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, if I have any luck, you
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 mall fee him by fupper time at Alftonfields. 
 
 Painter. I wifh you good fport with all my 
 heart, and do you call me if you chance to hook 
 him ; meantime I'll contrive another Iketch of 
 thefe glades and rocks. 
 
 Angler* Do not forget to make the Dove a 
 part of your picture. 
 
 Painter. And remember, you have promifed 
 to requite me with a good trout for fupper. 
 
 Angler. I faid a brace. 
 
 Painter. Better and better ; fo farewell, and 
 good luck go with thee. 
 
 Angler. Halloo ! 
 
 Painter. How now, Brother Pifcator ? 
 
 Angler. Hoi ! quickly, that you may par- 
 take of the delights of angling: here is a heavy 
 fim, and my line being {lender give me the 
 net. 
 
 Painter. Nay, I befeech you, let me land 
 him, that I may have the honour of a helping 
 hand with our firft trout in the Dove. 
 
 Angler. You fhall, and welcome too; but 
 manage him with difcretion. 
 
 Painter. Truft me : I'm ready haul him 
 now to the bank ; ah, me ! he's gone away 
 again : he was defperate. 
 
 Angler. Fear not, I have him fafe : I but 
 play with him ; fee, he begins to tire ; and now 
 
 59
 
 6o 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 you may take him : gently, gently fo, 'twas 
 bravely netted. 
 
 Painter. Do but look how his belly and fides 
 are fpotted with bright red fpots. 
 
 Angler. It is a goodly fifh j but I muft give 
 you a brace : and there was another rife under 
 the further bank ; wait a moment, and he is 
 mine. 
 
 Painter. Then I'll call you a mafter of your 
 art, and fince you have entertained me with 
 the pleafure of this trout, I'll go finifh my 
 picture of the Dove, for it is worth all my 
 
 little fkill in drawing. So ; how is it with 
 
 you? 
 
 Angler. Here is the brace of trouts I pro- 
 miled you. 
 
 Painter. You are as good as your word. 
 And I have not been idle. 
 
 Angler. I thank you ; they are the very rocks 
 and my Dove ; and here is the bridge and, I 
 declare, two anglers landing a trout ! So hither 
 away for Alftonfields with merry hearts ; 
 
 ' There roaft him and bade him with good claret wine, 
 ' For the calvor'd boyl'd trout will make thee to dine 
 ' With dainty contentment.'* 
 
 * Barker's Delight ; or the Art of Angling, wherein 
 are difcovered many rare fecrets both for catching fifli 
 and dreffing thereof, &c. 12 1657. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 61 
 
 Painter. Step on, brother, for you cannot 
 defire to be at fupper more than I do ; and now 
 we have trudged up the hill, and are come to 
 the church we faw from Hanfon Toot, on the 
 other fide. 
 
 Angler. And there is the l honeft alehoufe' 
 I told you of and fee, mine hoft ftanding under 
 the porch, ready to welcome loyal travellers to 
 the c King's Head.' 
 
 Painter. Kept by < Herbert Marjb'for 
 there's his name printed in large underneath.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A Conference at Supper between the Angler, 
 the Painter, and the Hoft. 
 
 Angler. 
 
 OW do you, Mr. Marfh ? 
 
 Hoft. Gentlemen, your fervant 
 at command. 
 
 Painter. Can we have good en- 
 tertainment and clean beds at your houfe ? 
 
 Hoft. Sir ! we fhall do our utmoft to give 
 you fatisfaclion : and for beds, I may fay there 
 are not better in the Peak, with c flieets laid up 
 ' in lavender.' What, ho ! boy, take thefe 
 gentlemen's fifh pannier and angle rods. Will 
 it pleafe you, Sirs, to walk into the parlour ? 
 
 Angler. It is well ; and the fooner you can 
 make ready for fupper the better pleafed we 
 mail be ; for we have walked all the way from 
 Derby ; and here is a brace of trouts : but look 
 you, Mr. Marfh, one condition I would make,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 and that is, you drefs them according to a fancy 
 I have. 
 
 Hojt. Sir, you fhall be obeyed ; neverthelefs 
 we have a notable method for boiling a trout or 
 grayling in thefe parts, that I never knew to 
 difpleafe any anglers. 
 
 Angler. But if you know not the manner 
 recommended by Mr. Cotton, who lives at 
 Beresford Hall, I fhall not be perfuaded to 
 think them Ikilfully done. 
 
 Ho/I. Sir, I am now your moft humble fer- 
 vant, and willing to drefs thefe trouts according 
 to your wiflies, feeing you approve the method 
 of noble Mr. Cotton. 
 
 Painter. Then you know Mr. Charles Cot- 
 ton, of Beresford Hall ? 
 
 Hoft. That, Sir, by your leave, I mould do, 
 and know him well too ; for I was a fervant 
 in the family when his right honourable father 
 lived at the hall, of whom only this I may 
 declare, he was loved and efteemed for his 
 gentle qualities of nature by the late moft 
 learned Lord Chancellor* of Oxford and Eng- 
 land, and was united with him in the fame bold 
 
 * LORD CLARENDON, who greatly praifes him in 
 his ' Charafters of Eminent Men, ' in the reigns of 
 Charles I. and II. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 and generous zeal for the fervice of the late 
 king, of pious memory : and I was the firft 
 that taught Mr. Charles Cotton, in his happy 
 youthful days, to fifh in the River Dove, when 
 he was a mere fchoolboy, and to mew and caft 
 and lure his falcon-gentles, and all manner of 
 hawks. And fince that time he has often had 
 me to a day's fifhing with him, and by his na- 
 tive condefcenfion makes me find myfelf ateafe 
 in his company, notwithftanding my humble 
 conditions. 
 
 Angler. Indeed ! then I may tell you this 
 gentleman and myfelf have come all the way 
 from Derby, and fome miles beyond that, to 
 find his fifhing-houfe, and to fpend a day or two 
 angling in the vallies of the Dove. 
 
 Hojt. You are not the firft gentlemen by 
 many, that have done this ; and you will not 
 think your labour loft when you have feen the 
 Fiftiing-houfe ; for that it is a wonderful inge- 
 nious place, and moft fkilfully adorned, no per- 
 fon, who has feen it, can deny. But will you 
 be pleafed to fit down in thefe elbow chairs, and 
 reft yourfelves till the trouts are ready. 
 
 Painter, Willingly : for I could not walk 
 another Derbyfhire mile, if it were to purchafe 
 a king's ranfom. And now, Mr. Marfh, I pray 
 you, look to the fupper, that it be ferved quickly, 
 
 K
 
 66 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 for we are nigh famifhecl. 
 
 Angler. And remember to give the trouts 
 ' three fcotches with a knife.' 
 
 Ho/I Aye, Sir, ' and to the bone on one fide 
 c only.'' I go to fee it done as you defire. 
 
 Angler. Did you obferve, brother, how this 
 honeft hoft, for fuch I doubt not he is, took up 
 the words of Mr. Cotton ? you may depend he 
 hath read the ' Injlruflions how to angle for a 
 1 trout or grayling in a clear Jlream.' We are 
 like to pafs a pleafant evening here at Alfton- 
 fields, and to learn more of Mr. Cotton, and of 
 his ' pretty moorland feat' than we had any hope 
 to do when we began our journey. What a 
 neat parlour is here, and the boards all fanded 
 over ! 
 
 Painter. And fee how mine hoft has gar- 
 nifh't out his walls with little pictures ; here's 
 the hiftory of Judith, and Sufanna, and Daniel 
 in the lion's den ; and the furniture not amifs ; 
 the oaken cabinet, and tables polifhed like a 
 mirror. 
 
 Angler. And here are books in the window ; 
 look you, Fox's Book of Martyrs, and Bifhop 
 Taylor's 4 Holy Living and Dying ;' and here 
 before all other books, is the GREAT BIBLE,* 
 
 * THE HOLY BIBLE, conteyning the Old Teftament,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 that King James caufed to be tranflated out of 
 the Hebrew and Greek tongues by thofe forty 
 feven moft pious and learned divines of our holy 
 church, thereby opening to the people of thefe 
 realms thofe fountains of living waters, more 
 precious than rivers of gold ; for he that thirfteth 
 after them in an honeft and believing heart, (hall 
 hear THE SPIRIT AND THE BRIDE SAY, c C01H0; 
 
 4 let Ijim t&at t'0 atijtrft come ; anfc toljofo- 
 < efoec to ill, let fjim take of tfje toatec of life 
 
 'freelp.'t Happy were they to be chofen 
 thrice happy to unlock and deliver to all ages 
 the myfterious treafures of God's Holy Word. 
 Of thefe I may not forget charitable Dr. Launce- 
 lot Andrewes. 
 
 Painter. He that refufed to be confecrated a 
 biftiop, becaufe he would not be perfuaded to 
 give a helping hand in the fpoil of the ecclefiaf- 
 tical revenues. 
 
 and the New ; newly tranflated out of the Originall 
 Tongues : and with the former Tranflations diligently 
 compared and revifed by His Majefties fpecial Com- 
 mandement. 
 
 Appointed to be read in Churches. 
 IMPRINTED at London by Robert Barker, Printer 
 to the King's Moft Excellent Majeftie. ANNO DOM. 
 1611. ED. 
 
 J- Rev. xxii. 17. 
 
 67
 
 68 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Nor lefs happy in this furpafling work 
 was Dr. Adrian Saravia, of fo fweet a nature, 
 and difpofitions fo notable, that he was joined 
 to Mr. Hooker in a bofom friendfhip, which 
 was only ended by death, when that judicious 
 champion of our church thought himfelf happy 
 to die in the arms of him he loved with fo con- 
 fiding a love. 
 
 Painter. This gift to his people of the Eng- 
 lifh Bible was indeed a BA2IAIKON AOPON' 
 worthy of a king,* and feeing thefe books of 
 our hoft, I am more inclined to entertain good 
 thoughts of him : but here he comes. 
 
 Angler. And the fupper too. You have loft 
 no time, Mr. Marfh. 
 
 Hojl. Gentlemen, I hope you may find it 
 to be as well done as quickly, for that is what I 
 defired ; and I have fpared nothing to make 
 them to your tafte, even to the 4 little hand- 
 4 fame faggot of rofemary^ thyme^ and winter 
 ' favor }',' that Mr. Cotton bids us ' throw into 
 4 the liquor.' 
 
 Angler. Well then, let us fay grace for thefe 
 
 * ' BASILICON DORON,' or a royal gift, written by 
 James the Firft, and addrefled to his fon Prince Henry. 
 Originally printed at Edinburgh, by R. Waldegrave in 
 1599. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 mercies we have, and now fall to it. Come, 
 this is excellent, and, as I profefs myfelf to be 
 an angler, I have not tafted trouts more feafon- 
 able : Apicius himfelf could not have defired 
 them more daintily drefled. 
 
 Hojl. Sir, I am glad you find them to your 
 liking. 
 
 Angler. And now, what fay you of your bar- 
 ley wine ? 
 
 Hojf. Sir, it is well known how the Stafford- 
 fhire ale is the beft in England, or as good as 
 any ; and though I would not be thought a 
 braggart, I may fay that mine is fecond to none 
 in the county. 
 
 Angler. Then bring us a good flagon ; for I 
 long to drink Mr. Cotton's health in a full cup 
 at Alftonfields : Now brother. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart here's to Mr. 
 Cotton. 
 
 Angler. Mr. Cotton, the dear friend of Mr. 
 Izaak Walton ! 
 
 Hoft. Sirs, I thank you for your kind 
 thoughts towards my mafter, and there is not a 
 worthier gentleman lives than Mr. Cotton ; and 
 may I be fo bold to afk how you find our Staf- 
 fordfhire ale ? 
 
 Angler. It is excellent, and no lack of malt 
 in't. 
 
 69
 
 7 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Hojl. And now, Gentlemen, here is meat, 
 with a frefh fallet ; and my good dame has 
 prepared fome confedtions, and tofled a fweet 
 pancake. 
 
 Angler. This mutton is as good as your ale. 
 
 Painter. It is all excellent ; thanks to you 
 and our good hoftefs : ' fmall cheer and great 
 1 welcome make a merry feaft ; ' but you are 
 liberal with both : and now we have fmifhed 
 our fupper, what fay you, brother, have you an 
 inclination to a pipe ? 
 
 Angler. I am nothing loath. 
 
 Painter. And I'm for another jug of that 
 nappy ale, if you do not fear it. 
 
 Angler. I fear nothing in your difcreet com- 
 pany : fo, Mr. Marm, bring us pipes, and fome 
 more of your Staffordfhire ale, and let there be 
 a toaft and fugar in't, with a little fpice of nut- 
 meg. 
 
 Painter. Aye, aye, and a race or two of gin- 
 ger. 
 
 Ho ft. Sirs, it fhall be as you defire ; and with 
 all diligence. 
 
 Angler. And now, brother, what think you 
 of our hoft ? 
 
 Painter. In footh, a modeft, well-fpoken 
 man, with a decent compofure of carriage ; not 
 like fome of your would-be-witty tapfters, that
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 have * a finger in all trades, and an oar in every 
 c man's boat.' 
 
 Angler. And that is my opinion of him ; and 
 fo, when he returns, if you ftand not on fcruples, 
 let us invite him to fit with us awhile ; for I 
 would afk him fome queftions about Mr. Cotton 
 and his fiming-houfe. 
 
 Ho/}. Gentlemen, here is a tankard of fpiced 
 ale, with pipes, and the beft tobacco I have. 
 
 Angler. I doubt not the quality of your to- 
 bacco, but I always carry my own ; and now, 
 Mr. Marfh, if you will give us the pleafure of 
 your converfation awhile, and fmoke a pipe from 
 my box, you mall be heartily welcome. 
 
 Hojl. Sirs, I humbly thank you ; but I pray 
 you to excufe me : I would not be thought to 
 grow prefumptuous becaufe you are pleafed to 
 be familiar. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Mr. Marfti, ftay not on a 
 punctilio ; we would have your company, if it 
 be only to drink Mr. Cotton's good health ; and 
 here's my Virginia, fo fill your pipe. 
 
 Angler. One cup to the noble matter of Be- 
 resford : pr'ythee be feated, Mr. Marfh. 
 
 Ho/}. Gentlemen, fince you defire me this 
 honour, I mail obey as I ought, and heartily 
 
 thank you. Sirs, I make bold to drink your 
 
 health, wifhing you all poflible pleafure here-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 abouts on the banks of the Dove, and good 
 fuccefs with your angle-rods. 
 
 Painter, It promifes fo many natural beau- 
 ties, that I expe<5t to find it as pleafant a river 
 as I have feen. 
 
 Angler. Say the pleafanteft of all, good bro- 
 ther. 
 
 Painter. Firft let me fee the fifhing-houfe ; 
 and then, perhaps, I may be brought to join in 
 your opinion. Shall we be permitted to vifit 
 that fpot ? 
 
 Ho/I. Doubt it not, Sir : you that have read 
 Mr. Cotton's fecond part of the COMPLETE 
 ANGLER, may readily believe how he inclines 
 to Gentlemen fimers, feeing he has therein 
 clearly depicted his own likenefs ; for I may 
 declare to you my matter has an alluring fuavity 
 and a fingular freedom of fpirit. Therefore he 
 will never refufe a liberty to civil ftrangers, to 
 fee his fifhing-houfe : indeed, I have known 
 him to fend his fervants to the river, with meat 
 and ale for their refrefhment ; or fometimes, if 
 they be anglers, invite them to the houfe. And 
 it was after this manner the firft accidental ru- 
 diments of that friendfhip fprung up betwixt 
 himfelf and brave Colonel Richard Lovelace. 
 I remember he found that gentleman to be en- 
 dowed with fuch a ripenefs of wit, and zeal for
 
 The River Dove. 73 
 
 the king's caufe, that he perfuaded him to a long 
 forgetfulnefs of his intended journey to Lon- 
 don, and then was fo unwilling to lofe his con- 
 verfation and company, that he made anoccaflon 
 to go to Aflibourne, that he might conduct him fo 
 far on horfeback by Hanfon Toot and Bentley.* 
 
 Angler. I have heard fay that Colonel Love- 
 lace was afterwards, in his diftrefs, a conftant 
 partaker of Mr. Cotton's open and generous 
 difpofition. 
 
 Hojl. Alas ! Sir, his difpofition is over gene- 
 rous for his fortunes ; and it is famous in all 
 the Peak, that Mr. Cotton is now detained 
 
 * That this friendship, fo happily begun between the 
 two poets, was a lafting one we have undoubted evidence 
 in Mr. Cotton's Elegy ' To the Memory of 'my worthy 
 Friend Coll. RICHARD LOVELACE/ appended to a poft- 
 humous edition of Lovelace's Lucafta, printed in 1659, 
 the year after his death. In this collection of poems is 
 one addrefled by Lovelace ' To the nobleft of our Youth, 
 'and beft of Friends, CHARLES COTTON, Efquire, being 
 ' at Beresford, at his houie in Stafford/lure j ' in which 
 is the following teftimony of gratitude for Mr. Cotton's 
 having contributed to his neceflities, when he was in 
 prifon. 
 
 ' What fate was mine, when in mine obfcure cave, 
 ' Shut up almoft clofe prifoner in a grave, 
 ' Your beams could reach methrough the vault of night, 
 ' And canton the dark dungeon with light.' ED.
 
 74 
 
 T'he River Dove. 
 
 from Beresford againft his defires, left his ene- 
 mies mould incommode him. 
 
 Angler. Say not fo : I would not have it 
 true, that a gentleman of fo high a candour 
 and of fuch worth mould be an exile from his 
 eftates. 
 
 Hojl. Were it other than true, I mould in- 
 deed be happy : he has none but friends in all 
 this country, unlefs it be fome remnant of 
 thofe injurious and rank weeds that fprung up 
 through the Commonweal under the late ty- 
 ranny. He is of a clear courage, like his noble 
 father ; and both manifefted a conftant loyalty 
 for the king, during the frenzy of thofe rugged 
 times. 
 
 Painter. It may be this brought againft him 
 a part of his prefent cares. 
 
 Hofl. Alas, it did that ; for it is a known 
 truth how the eftate was encumber'd on his 
 Majefty's behalf: and indeed my mafter mowed 
 himfelf to be a loving fubjecl: in thofe fad dif- 
 traitions, when there was a danger fo much as 
 to be thought of the royal party. And another 
 great charge was to enrich his houfe and 
 grounds with all manner of curious ornamental 
 
 o 
 
 art, in fo much that they be noted in thefe parts 
 for a garden of devices. And fome of our 
 chiefeft nobility think themfelves happy in Mr.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Cotton's friendfhip ; as Lord Jermayne, and 
 the moft noble Earl of Devonfhire,* who lives 
 in his {lately manfion at Chatfworth, and per- 
 mits a familiarity with him ; nay, I have feen 
 them practife with foils in our great Hall, and 
 notwithftanding the Earl has the longer arm 
 and is efteemed a very dextrous fencer, he 
 cannot, with all his parries^ defend himfelf 
 againft Mr. Cotton's counterpoint and fkilful 
 disengagements. 
 
 Painter. I pray you, what age is Mr. Charles 
 Cotton ? 
 
 Ho/I. Sir, Mr. Cotton was born forty-feven 
 years, gone the 28th of laft month : but he is 
 yet in the morning and flower of his life ; and 
 to look at him you might believe him to be lefs 
 than forty, by reafon of his youthful carriage 
 and comelinefs ; and when he converfes with 
 his inferiors, fuch as myfelf and others, who 
 have the happinefs to call him our mafter, the 
 fweetnefs of his difcourfe and his difcreet fami- 
 liarity expels every fear. And then, Sir ! if you 
 could fee him, (as I have often,) in his fuit of 
 flamed velvet, or rich taffeta, you would be fure 
 he was bred at court ; indeed, he is notable for 
 
 * William, Earl of Devonfhire, mentioned in Cot- 
 ton's Wonders of the Peak, p. 24. 1681. ED. 
 
 75
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 his comportment and alluring perfon. Never- 
 thelefs, I have fometimes feen him tranfported 
 beyond his ufual behaviour : and I cannot help 
 me from fmiling at a ftory of himfelf, I have 
 heard him relate to his friends. 
 
 Angler. I befeech you let us have it. 
 
 Hoft. Well, Sir ! you are to know Mr. Cot- 
 ton will fometimes have a flight hindrance in 
 his fpeech ; and fb on a time he found a ftout 
 beggar that fat under the great yew tree, near 
 to the door of the Hall ; whereupon he afked 
 him, with an hefitation, l What d-doft d-do 
 here f-friend ? ' Now it chanced the beggar 
 had the fame infirmity of fpeech with noble Mr. 
 Cotton, but greater ; fo he began to ftammer 
 in his anfwering, and make wry words and 
 looks ; upon this, Mr. Cotton, thinking he 
 mocked at him, feized the man on a fudden, 
 and declared he was a fturdy rogue, and he 
 would teach him his manners, and have him 
 put in the ftocks. Thereupon the other, in his 
 fright, could not but ftut the more, feeing how 
 obnoxious he was to fo fine a gentleman ; till 
 at length Mr. Cotton, finding it to be a real 
 entanglement in the fellow's fpeech, was all at 
 once mollified, and did humbly afk pardon for 
 his firft feverity ; and after that fell a laughing, 
 and with pleafant perfuafions called him into
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 his houfe, and feafted him there, till the beggar 
 thought himfelf as g-great as a L-Lord. 
 
 Painter. Ah ! ha ! ha ! a mighty pleafant 
 ftory. 
 
 Angler. I dare to think the beggar was not 
 the only gueft at the Hall that has tafted of Mr. 
 Cotton's good cheer. 
 
 Haft. Sir, you are right ; and I well remem- 
 ber, when my mafter refolved to build the 
 fifhing-houfe, and that Profpeft Tower, that 
 you {hall fee to-morrow, he engaged a mafter 
 architect from the town of Nottingham, to fee 
 that the ftone-work was fkilfully managed. 
 This was Mr. Lancelot Rolfton,* a man of 
 folid abilities, and inftruted in many arts ; and 
 becaufe he was of a fertile wit, and withal a 
 brother of the angle, Mr. Cotton held him to be, 
 as he always proved himfelf, a brave gentleman 
 and a fcholar, and after a time, entered into a 
 familiarity with him, which hath continued to 
 this day : but Sirs, I humbly afk your par- 
 don ; I would not be thought to venture myfelf 
 on your civility, nor take too much of the con- 
 verfation. 
 
 * Probably the fon of Mr. Thomas Rollefton, who 
 built the church at Mayfield, in Dove Vale, in 1616. 
 Pitfs Survey of Stafford/Jure, p. 225. ED. 
 
 77
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. Truft me, we think ourfelves happy 
 in thefe teftimonies of Mr. Cotton ; but fee, the 
 ale tarries with you ; fo fill your cup, and let us 
 hear further of Mr. Rolfton. 
 
 Hojl. Well then, Sir, as I told you, that ar- 
 chitect was often perfuaded by Mr. Cotton to 
 come to him at Beresford j and I cannot doubt 
 was largely rewarded ; and this was only rea- 
 fonable, feeing he was a famous man in thefe 
 parts, and above all a delicate limner. And fo 
 it happened on a time, when he came all the 
 way from Nottingham to give order for the 
 works, that Mr. Cotton greatly defired his com- 
 pany one day more at Beresford, that he might 
 finifh fome landfldp pictures in the fifhing-houfe. 
 This the other could not do with convenience to 
 himfelf, at that time ; therefore he afked leave 
 to be gone after dinner. But Mr. Cotton did 
 fo entertain his gueft with good wine, and better 
 converfation, that the architect forgot, or would 
 not care for his journey, until the night was 
 come. Then Mr. Cotton told him how there 
 was no moonlight, and he might chance to break 
 his neck between this and Ambourne, whither 
 his occafions called him, and endeavoured to 
 perfuade him it would be more prudent to take 
 his bed at the Hall, and promifed he might 
 depart early the next morning. But the other
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 declared he was able to find his way by Hanfon 
 Toot and Bentley Brook, though he were hood- 
 winked. 
 
 Well, Sirs, Mr. Cotton feeing him bent on 
 his dark journey, fecretly defired his fervants 
 fhould bring one of his own horfes from the 
 ftable ; and when the architect mounted into 
 his faddle with alacrity, not feeing how he had 
 another man's jennet, Mr. Cotton wifhed him a 
 good journey at the gate with a fecret mirthful 
 compofure. And fo the other got to Afhbourne 
 and flept at the Talbot Inn ; and on the morrow, 
 when the hoftler brought him the nag, how was 
 he then aftonifhed to find he had not his own 
 beaft ; and declared the man was not awake to 
 give him fuch a forry jade. Then the other 
 humbly difabufed him, and faid, he knew the 
 horfe thefe many a year, for it was noble Mr. 
 Cotton's at Beresford Hall. 
 
 Angler. Bravely done : and what followed ? 
 
 Hoft. Then the architect began unwillingly 
 to perceive how my mafter had ferved him this 
 facetious turn ; and becaufe the exchange was 
 not to his advantage, he considered it was beft 
 for him to come again to Beresford ; and fo he 
 did, as Mr. Cotton hoped he would : then 
 they laughed together at the innocent fraud 
 thus put upon him, and Mr. Rolfton, being in 
 
 79
 
 8o 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 a happy mood, fet his thoughts to work, and 
 painted all that day, and the day after, in the 
 fifhing-houfe, and contrived fome natural imi- 
 tations of the rocks and other profpecls there- 
 abouts. 
 
 Angler. Excellent ! 
 
 Painter. I doubt not the limnings are traced 
 with a dextrous freedom. 
 
 Hoft. Aye, truly ; and fome ornaments of 
 his workmanfhip are there, which I hope to 
 make you welcome to, more worthy than the 
 landfkips : for it chanced in the laft fummer, 
 when Mr. Izaak Walton paffed fome peaceful 
 days at Beresford, this artift rode thither from 
 Nottingham ; and nothing would content my 
 mafter, but he muft have Mr. Walton's por- 
 traiture, painted from the life in colours on 
 the pannel of the beaufet, oppofite to the man- 
 tel in the fifhing-houfe. But Mr. Rolfton de- 
 clared, with many proteftations, he was not 
 fkilful painter enough for fuch endeavours. 
 Thereupon a friendly conteft arofe between all 
 three ; for Mr. Walton liked not the motion, 
 and was fo modeft as to infift that the fifhing- 
 houfe mould be better graced with the picture 
 of Mr. Cotton himfelf, who was the happy in- 
 ventor of it. Neverthelefs my mafter would, 
 for this time, have his pleafure, and did entreat
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Mr. Walton to fit with an angler's profefled 
 patience, and fuffer Mr. Rolfton to paint his 
 likenefs ; and moreover, he promifed he would 
 read them a book and converfe the while. 
 And then he opened the beaufet, and faid gaily; 
 Now, Sir, can you refift the temptation of ' The 
 ' Shepheards' Oracles^ delivered in certain Eg- 
 4 logues, by Francis Quarks ?' Whereupon Mr. 
 Walton replied, There you touch me nearly, 
 and I promife to fit and liften quietly, if you 
 will be pleafed to read aloud Canonicus\ the 
 Shepheard's, reproofs againft the fcifmatical 
 Anarcbus. That will I, (then my mafter faid,) 
 but firft I crave leave to entertain Mr. Rolfton 
 with your friend John Marriott's addrefs to the 
 Reader ; and he will not think it the lefs inge- 
 nious when I make bold to declare that fome 
 other pen than the Printer's (then he looked 
 with a meaning at Mr. Walton) hath touched 
 the defcription of Francis Quarles, as he* walked 
 c down towards the brook, furnifhed with all 
 ' proper angle rods, lines, and flyes.' 
 
 Angler. I remember, he fell in with fome 
 Arcadian fhepheardefles, keeping the feftival of 
 their great god Pan. Would I could repeat it, 
 for it is a fparkling allegory, efpecially fuitable 
 to all fifhermen. 
 
 Ho/I. Sir, I have the book itfelf, locked up 
 
 M 
 
 81
 
 82 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 in this cabinet. 
 
 Angler. Indeed ! then, I befeech you, let us 
 look into it, that my brother may judge whether 
 or no Mr. Walton had a hand in the compofi- 
 tion of that addrefs to the Reader. 
 
 Hoft. Sir, here it is. 
 
 Angler. The 4 SHEPHEARDS' ORACLES :' * 
 and look, brother, at this fignificant frontifpiece, 
 engraved by W. M. ; there is the tree of the 
 Church, that a mixed clofe-cropped rabble of 
 fchifmatics are picking and digging at, if by 
 any means they may uproot it from the earth. 
 And there is that man of a tub who has pierced 
 through and through the books of the Liturgy 
 and the Canons : and the Jefuit, with his 
 Roman knife, ftripping the bark. But our 
 late pious king, with his fword and fceptre, 
 makes a rout of them, whilft the careful Bifhop 
 holds the loved tree in his embrace, and nur- 
 
 * Printed by M. F. for John Marriott and Richard 
 Marriott, and are to be fold at their fhop in St. Dunftan's 
 Church-yard, Fleet Street, under the Dyall, 1646. A 
 pofthumous work, as the poet died in 1644. Francis 
 Qjiarles, author of Divine Emblems, had been cup 
 bearer to Elizabeth, Eleftrefs Palatine, daughter of 
 James I., and afterwards Secretary to Archbifhop Ufher. 
 His loyalty expofed him to perfecution during the Re- 
 bellion. ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 tures the roots with the waters of found doc- 
 trine. 
 
 Painter. And from above the fword of the 
 Spirit invincibly fp read out to protect His church, 
 as if to fay, 4 1 will contend with him that con- 
 4 tends with thee, and 1 will fave thy children.'* 
 But for the Printer's addrefs ? 
 
 jfngler. Liften. After fome notice 
 
 of the lamented death of Francis Quarles, the 
 reader is 4 requeued to fancy that the author 
 4 was walking a gentle pace on a fummer's morn- 
 4 ing towards a brook, not far dijtant from his 
 4 peaceful habitation, fitted with angle, lines, 
 4 and flyes, proper for the fruitful! month of 
 4 May, intending -all diligence to beguile the ti- 
 4 morous trout ; when he obferved a more than 
 4 common concourfe ofjhepheards, all bending their 
 1 unwearied fteps towards a pleafant meadow 
 4 within his prefent profpeft, and had his eyes 
 4 made more happy to behold two fair Jhep- 
 ' heardejjes Jlrewing the foot paths with lillies 
 4 and lady-fmocks,fo newly gathered by their fair 
 4 hands that they yet fmelt more fweet than the 
 4 morning, and immediately he met (attended with 
 4 Clora and Clorinda, I think were their names, 
 4 and many other wood nymphs,) the fair and 
 
 * If. xlix. 25.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 virtuous Parthenia, who after a courteous fa- 
 ' lutation, told him that the neigkbour-Jhepheards 
 1 of that part of Arcadia had dedicated that day 
 4 to be kept holy to the honour of their great god 
 ' Pan ; foe told him alfo that Orpheus would be 
 4 there, and bring his harp, Pan his pipe, and 
 4 Titerus his oaten-reed to make mujic at the 
 < feaft ; Jhe therefore perfuaded him not to lofe, 
 4 but to change that day's plea fur e.'' And (not 
 to detain you with the whole) you are to be- 
 lieve this firft acquaintance of the Author with 
 the {ingle-hearted fhepheards grew into a friend- 
 fhip ; and he would often 4 reft himfelf among 
 i them and their flocks feeding about them, in 
 4 the calm evening, as he returned from his river 
 4 recreations, and heard that difcourfe which 
 1 (with the Sbepheards' names) is prefented in 
 4 thefe Eglogues.' 
 
 Hoft. Thus Mr. Walton was enticed to pa- 
 tience ; for my mafter knows his humour, and 
 is never fo happy as when he can give him 
 pleafure. 
 
 Painter. And, if I may judge by thefe images 
 of rural life, Mr. Walton himfelf had fome par- 
 ticipation in the addrefs. 
 
 Angler. And doubtlefs he knew that he might 
 claim Francis Quarles for a worthy brother of 
 the angle.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. What would I not have given to 
 witnefs the freedom of thofe three contented 
 gentlemen in the fifhing-houfe ! 
 
 Hojt. Sirs, I would that you, who are fo 
 great lovers of angling, had there feen the fweet 
 compliance and refignation of Mr. Walton : 
 his particular fmiling gravity feafons all his ac- 
 tions, and by little and little the limner be- 
 came fb enamoured of his countenance that he 
 ftamped his very image againft the pannel of 
 the cabinet; yet all the while he profefled he 
 could not manage it with truth to the original. 
 I well remember what a joy Mr. Cotton ex- 
 prefled by his words and countenance, when 
 the portrait was rimmed, becaufe he mould 
 never be in want of a lively image of his ' dear 
 c adopted father.' 
 
 Angler. And I may prophecy that the por- 
 traiture of our excellent matter will be cherifhed 
 for ages yet to come by all anglers, who may 
 gather from his lineaments the bleflednefs of a 
 peaceful fpirit. 
 
 Hofl. After this was finimed, Mr. Walton 
 declared he would have a reward for his con- 
 formablenefs, and be permitted to take his re- 
 creation by the river: and fo it was agreed 
 that he and Mr. Cotton mould have a bout of 
 fifhing.
 
 86 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Pr'ythee 1 eave not a word untold of 
 his methods of angling. 
 
 Haft. Well, then, Sir ! Mr. Cotton gave 
 order to his ferving-boy to bring the rods and 
 fifhing-harnefs from the Hall : and to work they 
 went. Then my matter, feeing how Mr. Walton 
 filently bufied himfelf in fixing a worm on the 
 arming of his hook, challenged him to fifh with 
 the fly ; whereat the other with his own fmile 
 (that fhews he hath no other feafon than a con- 
 tinual fpring within) anfwered him ; * Nay, Sir, 
 ' I hope to catch more pounds of fifh with my 
 4 brandlings before fupper time, than you mail 
 ' do with all your choiceft flies.' To this Mr. 
 Cotton replied : c Say you fo ? Let that be a 
 c match between us ; hither boy ! bring my 
 ' landing net and pannier, and let us down the 
 ' ftream below the fwifts.' Then he defired I 
 would attend carefully on Mr. Walton ; and 
 faid, c FarewelJ Mr. Pifcator, and look how you 
 1 put your angle to good ufe, for now you are 
 4 not on the banks of your Lea, but muft fifli 
 c in clear Derbyfhire ftreams:' to which the 
 other returned him a pleafant nod of the head ; 
 and all the while he had prepared his tackling, 
 without any noife, and dropped his line with a 
 fober mifchievous look into the Pike Pool : then 
 feeing his quill to dip fuddenly, he anfwered
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 with a gaiety, c Anon, Sir ! look you there ; 
 4 for I am certain I have a nabble.' 
 
 Hojt. And true it was, for he hook'd a trout, 
 and, you may believe me, a big one. 
 
 Painter. I fufpet he had an old acquaintance 
 with that pool. 
 
 Haft. And he handled his fifh with a fmgular 
 difcretion, and then I landed him by his defire 
 in the net. No fooner did Mr. Cotton fee this, 
 than he was fuddenly refolved to be away, and 
 faid : ' Marry, Sir ! that is an ill omen for my 
 4 match. Come, boy ! the wind fets from this 
 1 bank, keep aloof from the ftream : ' and with 
 that he went towards a choice part lower down, 
 where an angler, that is an artift, may fcarce 
 mifs his entertainment. 
 
 Angler. You waited then on Mr. Walton ? 
 I am ready to envy you fuch a pleafure, and 
 the advantage of learning fome of his devices in 
 angling. 
 
 HO/I. Believe me, Sir, you would alfo love 
 to hear him difcourfe ; for he proportions all he 
 fays with a moft pleafing contexture of grave 
 and cheerful things, and delights in contem- 
 plating the beauty and order of the works of 
 God ; and he naturally turns the thoughts of 
 his companions to the Great Architect, that 
 contrived the wonderful ftructure of them ; per-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 fuading them to the belief that the moft true, 
 and only fecure, happinefs is in virtue. 
 
 Painter. That is a cheerful induftrious 
 Chriftian, who doth not lay up religion like a 
 fuit, to be kept for holidays ; but fucks divinity 
 out of every flower, and in a fecret way turns 
 it into honey. 
 
 Ho/I. And all the while he difcourfes, you 
 may fee him handle his rod with a mafter's 
 fkill : and he has fome commixture of oil and 
 gums, or other experimental artifices, that moft 
 anglers have no knowledge of, to tempt the 
 trouts to his hook. 
 
 Angler. I have not a doubt it is that receipt 
 of his friend, Richard Roe, as given by Mr. 
 John Davors, in his Secrets of Angling ; and I 
 can avouch that it is an excellent good one. 
 
 Waubfft thou catch fijfi ? 
 
 Then here's thy nvifli ; 
 
 Take this receipt 
 
 To anoint thy bait. 
 
 ' Thou that defireft to fifh with line and hook, 
 f Be it in Poole, in River, or in Brook, 
 ' To blifle thy bait, and make the fifti to bite, 
 * Loe, here's a means, if thou cans't hit it right, 
 ' Take Gum of Life, fine beat, and laid to foak 
 ' In Oyle, well drawn from that which kills the Oak : 
 ' Fifh where thou wilt, thou (halt have fport thy fill, 
 ' When twenty fail THOU (halt be fure to kill.' 
 
 PROBATUM.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Ifs perfect and good, 
 
 If well under/load, 
 
 Elfe not to be told 
 
 For fil-ver or gold,* R. R. 
 
 Ho/t. Sir, I know not if this or any other 
 were his charm to tempt the fifties to his bait j 
 but having quickly landed his fecond trout, he 
 faid, c We fhall have no more prefent bites in 
 ' Pike Pool, feeing we have difturbed the water ; 
 4 fo come, Mr. Marfh, if you pleafe, let us not 
 c lofe our time hereabouts, but try fome other 
 ' parts, that we may win our match from the 
 c fldlful fly-fiftier.' After that he took a walk 
 higher up the ftream to the fifhing-houfe, and 
 fhewed his trouts to Mr. Rolflon, who was 
 (till there to give fome laft touches to the por- 
 traiture. Then he fo perfuafively entreated 
 the limner to paint him a trout in colours, on 
 one of the pannels, that the other could not find 
 it in his thoughts to refufe his requeft. But 
 Mr. Walton did not beguile his time in the 
 fifhing-houfe ; for he remembered how he was 
 to kill more fifties than Mr. Cotton, and fo he 
 continued his induftrious angling until my maf- 
 
 * The Secrets of Angling ; teaching the choiceft 
 tooles, baits, and feafons for the taking of any fifh in 
 pond or river : praftifed and familiarly opened in three 
 Books. By J. Davors, Efquire. 1652. ED.
 
 9 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ter returned again, a little before fun-fet, and 
 brought with him many brace of trouts. And 
 then Mr. Cotton faid gaily, * My fervice to you, 
 ' good gentleman, moft patient angler, what 
 c have your brandlings done for you ? haft 
 4 caught any fifh ? it is time to give over.' To 
 this Mr. Walton replied, < Hold, Sir, but half a 
 1 minute, and I'll tell you : ' for at that very time 
 he had hooked his laft trout, and was playing 
 him ; and indeed he managed him with fuch a 
 craftinefs and would not give him a quiet mo- 
 ment to himfelf, but forced him with a moft 
 gentle violence up and down the ftream, till he 
 was brought to the laft extremity ; in fo much 
 that Mr. Cotton could not but applaud his (kill, 
 when he faw the fifh at his length languiming 
 on the bank. And after that, Mr. Rolfton was 
 called from the fifhing-houfe to be a judge of 
 the conteft ; and all the trouts were counted 
 out on the grafs ; but Mr. Walton's fifhes were 
 more than the other's by fome pounds in weight; 
 and fo it was declared his bottom riming had 
 won the match for him ; and upon that they all 
 returned with merry hearts to the Hall. And 
 now, Gentlemen, it may be expected I mould 
 a(k your pardon, feeing I have occupied your 
 attention with this long difcourfe. 
 
 Angler. We are greatly beholden to you for
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 fo pleafant a hiftory. 
 
 Painter. And I am glad our walk to-mor- 
 row will be along the banks of the river, and 
 that I am to fee thofe choice limnings in the 
 fifhing-houfe. 
 
 Angler. Andnowlet'stobed. Come,brother, 
 you and I will read a chapter out of Mr. Marfh's 
 great Bible ; and that will make our fleep the 
 fweeter, and not hinder our fport to-morrow. 
 
 Painter. It is well thought, fo do you choofe 
 for us. 
 
 Angler. Where all are fo exceeding good, 
 I {hall not be long before I fuit you. Here is 
 the 23d Pfalm of King David, where he tefti- 
 fies to the loving mercy of God, and how his 
 foul repofed in confidence, that He would be 
 near to comfort him, and fweeten all his trials. 
 Shall I read from that ? 
 
 Painter. By all means : for I am of the 
 opinion of St. Bafil, that if all the other books 
 of Scripture could periih, that of the Pfalms 
 would be a fufficient holy amulet to put to flight 
 the enemy of mankind ; and I remember how 
 that Pfalrn begins c The Lord is my Shepherd^ 
 4 / Jball not want : He maketh me to lie down 
 1 in green pajiures ; He leadeth me bejide the 
 <-Jlill waters.' 
 
 Angler. [Reads.] 
 
 9 1
 
 9 2 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. How furprifing high are the ftrains 
 of this joyful hymn, wherein David pours out 
 the breathings of his faith, which eftablifhed 
 him the man after God's own heart. No lan- 
 guage or thought can furpafs thofe high celef- 
 tial eulogiums, which have been the prayers of 
 the church from age to age. 
 
 dngler. Yet was King David loved of his 
 c Shepherd' before he loved Him in return ; as 
 holy Auftin writes, ' God crowns with accept- 
 c ance not our works, but the gifts of His own 
 ' grace.' 
 
 Painter. And although David thought it his 
 high eft privilege, ' to dwell in the houfe of the 
 1 Lord ;' yet doubtlefs he looked further than 
 the fan&uary of Jerufalem to the courts of the 
 heavenly Zion, and to the eternal abiding of 
 fpirits, glorified in the divine prefence. For 
 furely the beatific fights and voices, vouchfafed 
 in after days to the beloved and holy John, 
 were not unknown to 4 the fweet finger of 
 1 Ifrael.' He underftood how the fold and paf- 
 turage of his Shepherd did, after a fpiritual fort, 
 forefhadow the final gathering of c Chrift's 
 ' fheep, that are now difperfed abroad in the 
 4 midft of this naughty world,'* into the folds of 
 
 * Ordination Service : charge to the priefts. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 glory. And now, brother, let us betake ourfelves 
 to reft, with King David, praifmg God for all 
 the health and other bleflings we enjoy, which 
 are but as one drop out of that boundlefs ocean 
 of joy and treafure He will hereafter beftow for 
 a life of holinefs. Good night. 
 All. Good night. 
 
 93
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 95 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Hoft conducts the Angler and Painter to 
 Beresford Hall and Mr. Cotton's Fijhing 
 Houfe on the River Dove. 
 
 Painter. 
 
 O, brother, you are c ftirring with 
 ' the lark.' 
 
 Angler. Aye, Sir, I have been 
 wakeful this hour and paft; and 
 becaufe I heard you were a-bed, I fauntered out 
 awhile, that I might have the enjoyment of the 
 frefh morning. 
 
 Painter. And I'll warrant, you wandered 
 down to the banks of the river, like a crane, to 
 look after fifties. 
 
 Angler. You have made a wrong guefs for 
 this turn : becaufe after a while I chanced to 
 find myfelf in the church-yard, and quietly 
 walked up and down. 
 
 Painter. Surely that was a fad employment !
 
 9 6 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Penfive, fo pleafe you, but not fad : 
 and there I met the fexton, not c an ill wilier 
 4 to human nature,' but an honeft good man, 
 who had the key of the church : and I have 
 feldom feen a country church more embellifhed 
 with rare carving and joiners' work : you may 
 believe me, it is quite unmatchable. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! 
 
 Angler. And Mr. Cotton's family feat is 
 carved with delicate ornaments ; and his ar- 
 morial bearings chifelled in oak, with a canopy 
 over head, in rich tracery work. Indeed, the 
 whole church, as the baptifmal font, and chan- 
 cel, the pulpit and altar, and a lofty organ, all 
 worthy of thofe earlier and better ages, when 
 the fame fpirit pervaded the Church as poffefled 
 the heart of Mary Magdalene, who beftowed 
 upon her loved Mafter that alabafter box of 
 ointment of fpikenard, as the moft precious tef- 
 timony of her reverence and affection. For 
 then mankind were of opinion that the houfes 
 of God, dedicated to His fervice and worfhip, 
 were deferving of all the honour they could pay 
 to them, as being His temples who hath confe- 
 crated the Church by His own blood. 
 
 Painter. They were better times indeed. 
 Alas ! the day when the feparatifts of this nation 
 like the heathen of old, l raged^ and the people
 
 River Dove. 
 
 1 Imagined a vain thing ! ' when * the rulers took 
 c counfel together again/} the Lord and againft 
 1 His anointed' fad workers of pillage, who 
 defaced the fancluary, ftripped the altars, over- 
 turned the holy fonts, broke the ornamental 
 paintings of the windows, and rich tracery work 
 in ftone,made free booty of the facramental plate, 
 and {tabled their troopers even beneath the holy 
 vaulted roofs, which had wont to refound to 
 the voices of the choirs, chaunting the praifes 
 of God ; but then, alas ! made to re-echo their 
 unhallowed imprecations againft all ordinances 
 and government. 
 
 Angler. But fear not, brother. God is ever 
 with His Church ; and hath He not faid, c / 
 ' will rejlore to you the years that the locufi and 
 ' the cankerworm hath eaten ? ' * Believe me, 
 a bright day of joy mall come, when our village 
 churches, and thofe fair ftately minifters through- 
 out the land, and efpecially their daily fervices 
 and the appointed feftivals, mail be reftored 
 
 as in ancient times. What ! did not God 
 
 ftir up the fpirit of the heathen king of Per- 
 fia to caufe His holy temple to be rebuilt after 
 the long captivity of His people in Babylon ? 
 ' Then Jo/hua and yerubbabel^ and their bre- 
 
 * Joel ii. 25. 
 
 97
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' thren builded the altar of the God of Ifrael, 
 1 and offered the DAILY OFFERINGS, according 
 c to the cuftom, as the duty of every day re- 
 ' quired, and afterward the continual fervices 
 c of all the SET FEASTS THAT WERE CONSE- 
 4 CRATED.' f Did the Spirit of God thus kin- 
 dle the affetions of the Ifraelites ' as one man f 
 And is His arm (hortened that He cannot deli- 
 ver ? Then I may never believe that our kings, 
 and the nobles and people of this chriftian land, 
 and her ' merchants and traffickers, who are 
 ' princes and the honourable of the earth J J will 
 ornament their own ceiled houfes and tables 
 with the pride of gold and precious things, and 
 leave the temples of their mafter, who died for 
 them, ' as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in 
 4 a garden of cucumbers.' 
 
 Painter. I declare, dear brother, your fond 
 hopes make my heart burn within me ; and I 
 will believe and pray that our altars and fonts, 
 and the holy facraments, mail be eftablifhed in 
 the affe&ions of the people of England : and 
 this branch of the CATHOLIC CHURCH fpread 
 her fhadowing influence far and near, and carry 
 forth our name and religion to the moft diftant 
 regions. Then may we fee that onenefs of the 
 
 f Ezra iii. % Ifa. xxiii. 8. If. i. 8.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 church reftored, which holy Ignatius fpeaks of, 
 when ' the Prefbytery was fo fitted together into 
 1 the Bijhop as firings into a harp, and when 
 c Jefus Chrijt was fung in unity of mind, and 
 ' the ancient one-voiced hymn of love was fung, 
 c the people, man by man, being the harmonious 
 1 chorus.'* But no more of this. 
 
 Angler. Well then, tell me how you flept. 
 
 Painter. To be honeft, I was fo weary after 
 our walk from Derby, I could not roufe myfelf 
 till mine hoft entered my chamber, and told me 
 you were up and dreft. 
 
 Angler. Well ! do not mock at me, if I 
 confefs I had many dreams glided into my 
 mind, concerning the Dove and that meek 
 matter of angling, Mr. Izaak Walton. And 
 fuch was the confufion of my thoughts, I was 
 deluded into a belief that I went a fiftiing with 
 him. 
 
 Painter. Went a-fifhing in your dreams, with 
 Mr. Izaak Walton ! that's brave ! an excellent 
 conceit ! 
 
 Angler. It is a truth ; and yet by a ftrange 
 perverfity I was ever detained on the oppofite 
 fide of the river from him ; and as he looked 
 upon me with a benevolent afpect, his very 
 
 * S. Ignatius : Epift. ad Ephefiois, iii. 4. 
 
 99
 
 IOO 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 garb and gefture were full of primitive com- 
 pofure. 
 
 Painter. Worthy difciple of a benevolent 
 matter ! And there you could perufe the very 
 drefs and bearing of PISCATOR, as you went a- 
 fifhing with him. Oh ! the myfteries of this 
 craft of angling ! And did you converfe nothing 
 with the ferene old gentleman ? 
 
 dngler. Sometimes I eflayed to fpeak with 
 him, but he placed his finger on his lip, in token 
 of a mutual filence. Then I dreamed that he 
 caught a bafket full of fifties with his worms, 
 and I meanwhile was not able to take one. 
 Whereupon methought I climbed a rock to 
 come at him, that I might have a part in his 
 recreation on the other fide the river ; but when 
 I would have ftruggled to go over the rock, 
 I was hindered by an invifible check; and 
 being in danger of falling, I attempted to call 
 out to him for afliftance ; but then my voice 
 faulted, and I could not perfuade him to give 
 me an anfwer ; for he would only beckon me to 
 filence by placing his finger on his lip. 
 
 Painter. Ah ! ha ! ha ! And all the while 
 this meek mafter of anglers went on to ply his 
 art, and catch fifties, and now and then was fo 
 condefcending as to look upon you with a be- 
 nevolent afpecl: ?
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 101 
 
 Angler. Neverthelefs methought it uncivil in 
 him not to be more troubled to fee me dangling 
 on the rock. 
 
 Painter. It was all becaufe of his fweetnefs 
 and ferenity ; for doubt not he felt a pity for 
 your unpleafantnefs : and what other accidents 
 befell you in this pleafant dream of yours ? 
 
 Angler. I was all in a confufion of thoughts ; 
 fometimes I tangled my fifhing-harnefs on the 
 branches of the trees ; and after that a great 
 fim carried it all away with the top joint of 
 my rod, juft as I thought to land him ; then 
 again I found myfelf on the flippery fides of 
 
 Hanfon Toot ; and juft as but here comes 
 
 the hoft. 
 
 Hojt. Gentlemen, your fervant. I hope 
 you flept foundly, and found the beds to your 
 liking ? 
 
 Painter. Excellent well : and pleafant dreams 
 to boot : for this gentleman 
 
 Angler. Hum ! hum ! your ' finger on 
 
 c your lip.' 
 
 Painter. I underftand : come, Mr. Marfh, 
 let us have a light breakfaft, a morning cup of 
 barley wine, with a manchet or two, or an oaten 
 cake, and then for Beresford Hall, and Mr. 
 Cotton's fifhing-houfe. What are you for, 
 brother ?
 
 102 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. I care not if it be ale, or fweet whey 
 frefh from the cheefe-vat, fo you give me fuch 
 an oaten cake as we had yefterday. 
 
 Ho/}. Gentlemen, here they are at your fer- 
 vice. And now, if it pleafe you, I'll be your 
 willing guide to Beresford Hall. 
 
 Angler. If you are in earneft and your own 
 bufinefs will permit, we {hall be greatly beholden 
 to you. 
 
 Ho/I. I have occafion towards Hartington ; 
 and the Hall ftands by the road. 
 
 Painter. I'm glad to hear it : fb, by your 
 leave, we'll light our pipes, and whiff a coun- 
 terblaft* to King James, of peaceable memory. 
 Now, brother, c en avant;' I am ready for as 
 many meafures of Derbyfhire miles as a reafon- 
 able, courteous gentleman may challenge. 
 
 Angler. You are mettlefome betimes ; and 
 we may chance to put you to the trial. 
 
 Ho/}. Sir, two miles will fuffice to bring us 
 
 * His Majefty had fo great a diftafte to the ufe of the 
 iveed, that he wrote a treatife againft it, intituled, * A 
 ' COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO/ It was re-publifhed 
 in 410. in 1672, with * a learned difcourfe by Dr. 
 ' Everard Maynwaring, proving that tobacco is a pro- 
 ' curing caufe of the fcurvy.' This royal pedantic trea- 
 tife is thought to be a confiderable ' counterblaft'' to His 
 Majefty's fame as an author. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 103 
 
 to the Hall ; but I fhould firft tell you there are 
 two ways ; one is the coach road, and the other 
 a bridle-way through the Narrow Dale ; and 
 this laft is the fhorteft. 
 
 Angler. I incline to whichfoever Mr. Cotton 
 travels by, when he is on horfeback, becaufe 
 that was the road he took with VIATOR, when 
 he pointed to the houfe, and faid, c This is now 
 c like to be your inn for want of a better' 
 
 Painter. If I may choofe, let it be whichever 
 will give us the beft profpec} over Beresford Hall. 
 
 Angler. You are in the right, brother : I 
 yield me to your better opinion. 
 
 Ho/t. Well, then, Gentlemen, you {hall both 
 have your defires, if you will take to the right 
 hand path, which leads to Narrow Dale. 
 
 Angler. Now we are out upon the hills, what 
 a fpacious profpe6t is before us ! and here's a 
 fweet-fcented morning, fit for honeft anglers. 
 
 Painter. But what a rocky barren place ! and 
 what lines of ftone walls, that have coft more 
 money to build than the land is worth J 
 
 Ho/t. Give me leave to tell you, Sir, the paf- 
 turage hereabouts is very fertile ; and you may 
 remember how Mr. Cotton declares ' thefe bills 
 1 breed and feed good beef and mutton.' 
 
 Angler. Aye, and make the beft cheefe that 
 goes to Derby market.
 
 104 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. But you will not deny this to be a 
 lone country of moorifh mountains, and no or- 
 nament of woods to give them a relief ? 
 
 Ho/I. Very true, Sir, when you are upon the 
 hills ; but down in the dales and glens, and by 
 the banks of our trouty ftreams, I may under- 
 take to find you fome rich landfkips, fo grown 
 over with fhady fycamore, and all kinds of trees, 
 that you will not think it tedious to walk along 
 them. 
 
 Angler. And forget not, brother, thefe are 
 the very fcenes, where the two great matters of 
 my art have loved to wile away their cheerful 
 hours, in the moft excellent of all recreations, 
 and have been poflefled with thofe happy 
 thoughts which they have recorded in the firft 
 and fecond parts of the Complete Angler. And 
 fo long as truth and virtuous inclinations have 
 any power to move the affections, their book 
 mail continue to be embalmed in the judgments 
 of men. Who that has read thofe pages can 
 wander on the banks of never-ceafing Dove, 
 where they have whifpered their filent joys, or 
 tread the paths they have trod, linked in a ge- 
 nerous friendfhip, without fome touch of a mu- 
 tual feeling ! But come, Mr. Marfh, we are 
 ready to follow you. 
 
 Ho/f. Gentlemen, fo pleafe you to turn down
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 this lane ; and now we are come to the top of 
 Narrow Dale, look through the opening of the 
 hills, and there is Beresford before you. 
 
 Angler. There, Sir, there ! what fay you now ? 
 
 Painter. Indeed, a goodly manfion in the 
 diftance : and thofe mountains which bound 
 the profpecl: rife up with a natural variety, and 
 blend themfelves into an harmonious landfkip. 
 
 Angler. And does not c the houfe Jtand pret- 
 ' tily?' 
 
 Painter. Aye, truly : and now, brother, as 
 we approach fo near to the object of our happy 
 pilgrimage, I glow with a part of your zeal. 
 Forgive me that I have been merry againft 
 anglers, and couched my doubtful meaning be- 
 neath fome quips and quibbles. But now I 
 open my heart to you, that I may participate 
 in all your pleafures, and therefore do you guide 
 and govern me, for I am wholly yours. 
 
 Angler. And there's my hand in teftimony 
 that I return all your friendly thoughts : and 
 I doubt not you will be better entertained on a 
 nearer acquaintance with Beresford Hall. 
 
 Painter. But, methinks, there is fomething 
 of a Tower. 
 
 Angler. Nay, I fee it not. 
 
 Painter. There, above the woods, to the 
 right of the manfion. 
 
 I0 5
 
 io6 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. At the top of the hill ? 
 
 Ho/?. The fame ; and it is called the Flam- 
 beaux Tower. 
 
 Painter. It is all a choice fubjeft, therefore 
 give me leave to make a hafty defign. 
 
 Angler. In this, brother, you mow your love 
 for me. And pr'ythee, mine hoft, is the Tower 
 of Mr. Cotton's building ? 
 
 Ho/I. Aye, Sir, and of free-ftone, brought 
 from the quarry that lies a few miles off. But 
 I mail not here enlarge to particulars, becaufe 
 a clofer view will teftify how it is done by the 
 cleareft rules of order. 
 
 Angler. But wherefore the name of the Flam- 
 beaux Tower ? 
 
 Hoft. Sir, I am to tell you that is a fancy of 
 Mr. Cotton's ; for he will often ride a diftance 
 from home, to vifit the Earl of Devonfhire at 
 Chatfworth, or to Haddon Hall, and other 
 great houfes, that he may take the paftime of 
 hunting the red deer, and hawking, and fuch 
 like diverflons, as gentlemen in England love 
 to exercife themfelves in : fo you may believe 
 he will fometimes return to the Hall by night. 
 
 Painter. Methinks he mould be a fkilful rider 
 to truft his neck over thefe precipices and hills 
 in the dark. 
 
 Hoft. Sir, you may truft my matter's well-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 bred fteeds, and if you could but once fee him 
 on horfeback, you would have no fears about 
 him : for he has learned to ride the great horfe 
 in the fchools ; and no bounds or faults can 
 move him. And when he is mounted for the 
 field, in his clofe doublet and large round hofen, 
 with his high boots, he is like a part of his horfe, 
 and you would prefently afk, c what noble ca- 
 valier is yonder ?' and I have but this more to 
 fay, when I was once in attendance upon him 
 at the Earl of Derby's with his caft of hawks, 
 I heard the ' loyal Duke* of Newcaftle,* that 
 excellent judge of horfemanftiip, declare before 
 a great company of gallants that he knew no 
 gentleman who carried himfelf more gracefully 
 in the manage of a horfe than Mr. Cotton. 
 And thus it is, when he is expected home o' 
 dark nights, my lady will caufe the beacon to be 
 lighted at the top of the Tower, that he may 
 have a fure guide acrofs the hills, and an early 
 
 * William Cavendifh, Duke of Newcaftle, a finished 
 gentleman, and a moft diftinguimed patriot, was author 
 of the well-known work on horfemanfhip, originally 
 publifhed in French at Antwerp in 1658, fol., and af- 
 terwards in Englifh under the title of ' A new Method 
 ' and extraordinary Invention to drefs Horfes, and work 
 ' them according to Nature, as alfo to perfeft Nature by 
 1 the Subtilty of Art.' 1667. fol. ED. 
 
 lO/
 
 io8 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 diftant welcome to cheer him. 
 
 Painter. A brave thought, and like the beau- 
 tiful Hero, in ancient ftory, when fhe waited 
 impatiently on the rocks for her Leander to 
 fwim acrofs the Hellefpont, at a great hazard, 
 and only for the fweet ihort joy of breathing 
 out his love ; then fhe fet up a blazing torch, 
 to be his guiding ftar through the darknefs of 
 the night and the deep waves. 
 
 Hoft. Indeed ? now I fee why Mr. Cotton 
 will fometimes call it his 4 Hero's Tower ! ' * and 
 I was too unlearned to underftand the reafon 
 of it before ; but this I know, there is none 
 
 * In a poetic epiftle to John Bradfhaw, Efq. defcrib- 
 ing his journey from London to Basford Hall, in his 
 coach and four, he thus alludes to the Tower : 
 
 ' Tuefday at noon at Lichfield town we baited, 
 
 ' But there fome friends, who long that hour had waited, 
 
 ' So long detained me, that my charioteer 
 
 ' Could drive that night but to Uttoxeter. 
 
 ' And there the Wedn'fday, being market-day, 
 
 ' I was conftrain'd with fome kind lads to ftay, 
 
 ' Tippling till afternoon, which made it night, 
 
 1 When from my Heroes Tovfr I faw the light 
 
 * Of her Flambeaux, and fanci'd, as we drave, 
 ' Each rifing hillock was a fwelling wave, 
 
 ' And that I fwimming was, in Neptune's fpight, 
 
 * To my long-long'd-for harbour of delight.' 
 
 Poems on feveral occafions, 1689, 8. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 within the Hall but is ready to bid the mailer 
 welcome when he comes. 
 
 Angler. That I believe ; and I remember 
 how VIATOR fays to Mr. Cotton ; c that your 
 1 meal is fo foon ready is a ftgn your feru ants know 
 1 your certain hours.' No doubt, they attend 
 upon him with alacrity. 
 
 Ho/i. It were ftrange elfe ; and I would you 
 might fee the gladnefs of the commonalty and 
 poorer forts that live hereabouts, to have him 
 amongft them ; as on Sundays, when they 
 expect him at the church-door in Alftonfields, 
 at the fix't hour of fervice ; or on feftivals and 
 holidays, when the young men and maidens 
 look for him to be a witnefs of their country 
 paftimes, and think their May-day games, and 
 Lamb-ale at fheep-fhearing feafts, want half 
 their joyfulnefs, if any accident hinders him ; 
 fuch is their natural affection for his perfon. 
 But now, Gentlemen, we are to take this fide 
 of the Narrow Dale, for in fome parts it is 
 boggy and moory ; you may fee the path winds 
 by a moderate declivity ; and now we are 
 come to the bottom, and here is Beresford 
 Lane ; fo we may pafs under this row of afh- 
 
 trees to the outer gate : will you be pleafed 
 
 to enter ? 
 
 Angler. Surely this fteep road was cut out 
 
 109
 
 I 10 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 of the rock, and here is a young wood about 
 it, which feems to be of Mr. Cotton's own 
 planting. 
 
 Hojt. Aye, Sir : for he loves the ornamental 
 art of planting gardens and orchards ; nay, he 
 hath writ a book of inftrudtions for the fame, 
 and caufed it to be printed in London.* 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! I knew not he was author 
 of any book, fave his COMPLETE ANGLER. 
 
 Ho/}. Sir, Mr. Cotton has produced various 
 compofitions : and to fay the truth, I know not 
 if angling or books have the greater charms 
 for his vacant hours. Some of his writings are 
 of a poetic caft, and there is one writ in praife 
 of His prefent Majefty ;t and, as I have heard, 
 fome ufeful hiftories have been Englifhed by 
 his pen out of the French tongue. J 
 
 Angler. And I cannot doubt his writings re- 
 
 * The Planter's Manual of raifmg, planting, and 
 cultivating all Sorts of Fruit-trees. London: 1675. 
 8vo. ED. 
 
 f A Panegyric to the King's Moft Excellent Majefty, 
 1660. Folio. ED. 
 
 % The Moral Philofophy of the Stoics. Tranflated 
 from the French of Monfieur de Vaix. 1664. 8vo. 
 And the Life of the Duke of Efpernon, in 12 Books, 
 wherein the Hiftory of France is continued, &c. Tranf- 
 lated from the French of M. Girard. London : "1670. 
 Folio. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 1 1 1 
 
 fleet the image of his ingenuous difpofition, and 
 fhow his reverence for virtue. 
 
 Painter. I hope they do. If they could be 
 oppofite to this which I will not believe, un- 
 lefs you can tell me of your own knowledge, 
 I fhould wifh that he had not compofed them. 
 
 Hoft. And now, Gentlemen, this is Beref- 
 ford Hall before you. 
 
 Angler. On my word, a handfome manfion. 
 
 Painter. I did not think to find fuch a fair 
 houfe, fo adorned with architecture : and what 
 a fpacious garden, full of contrivances to pleafe 
 the eye and plantations growing upon the rocks, 
 and thofe open fhady groves and viftos ! 
 
 Hojt. Well, Sirs, I am proud to think it is 
 not behind your expectations. 
 
 Painter. It hath a choice mixture of natural 
 and compofed beauties that I have not often 
 feen furpafled. 
 
 Ho/I. And within you will find every thing to 
 be worthy of fo honourable a gentleman as my 
 matter. By your leave, I'll go and warn the 
 fervants of your coming. 
 
 Angler. Well, brother, what fay you 
 
 to all this ? I pray you look at the peaceful 
 walks underneath thofe yew trees and chef- 
 nuts. 
 
 Painter. And the ftruture and workman-
 
 112 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 {hip of the houfe are deferving of note : fee you 
 the bear rampant carved in (tone over the door- 
 way ? but the hoft returns. 
 
 Ho/I. Gentlemen, you have the liberty to 
 make yourfelves welcome : will you pleafe to 
 walk in, and a fervant will attend you. 
 
 Angler. What a noble hall is here, wain- 
 fcotted and pannelled in oak, with handfome 
 furniture ! Obferve this mantel with the Cot- 
 ton arms carved in oak : and here the family 
 quarterings let into the lattice in ancient co- 
 loured glafs : and thefe high chairs and ebony 
 coffers. 
 
 Painter. Above all, fome exceeding good 
 limnings, and doubtlefs portraitures ? 
 
 Hoft. Sir, they are pictures of the family. 
 
 Painter. I pray you, whofe is this of fo noble 
 a mien ? 
 
 Hoft. That is my matter's late father, Mr. 
 Charles Cotton the elder, of Ovingden, in the 
 county of SufTex, who died twenty years are 
 now part. And here is the portraiture of my 
 late miftrefs : {he brought the manfion houfe 
 and lands to the Cottons, in right of her mo- 
 ther, who was a defcendant of the noble family 
 of Beresford. 
 
 Angler. What a fweet modefty of difpofition 
 {nines in every lineament of her face !
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Ho/}. You may believe me her look is but 
 the mirror of her mind ; for fuch was the native 
 meeknefs, difcretion, and innocence of Miftrefs 
 Olive Cotton, fhe was a pattern of women, and 
 loved by the poor and rich. 
 
 Painter. It is the very image of candour : 
 and the effects of the colours are fo true to life, 
 and the lights and fhadows difpofed with fuch 
 a knowledge of the art, it is plain they are 
 done by no lefs a hand than Sir Anthony Van- 
 dyke's. And who is this gentleman with his 
 hunting-dogs befide him, and a hooded hawk on 
 his wrift ? 
 
 Ho/I. That, Sir, is another of this honour- 
 able family, and one who loved hunting and 
 fowling; he it was brought thofe antlers you fee 
 on either fide of the mantel-piece, from fome 
 diftant place in Ireland. 
 
 Painter. It is painted in the manner of that 
 
 noted limner of Oueen Elizabeth, Frederico 
 ^_/ * 
 
 Zuchero ; and I incline to believe it reprefents 
 the queen's falconer in Ireland, when me com- 
 manded Sir Henry Sydney, her deputie of that 
 Realm^ to provide the Marquis of Savia, a no- 
 bleman of Spaine, ' with hawkes^ doggs^ and 
 other fuch pleafures in exchange for certayne 
 c perfumed gloves he prefented to her Majejiy, 
 < much to her lyking and contentation.'
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. And mark thefe ancient fpurs, hunt- 
 ing-horns, and bits for bridles, and all kinds of 
 implements for the chafe, hanging up by the 
 fides of the windows ; and here a bundle of 
 falcons' hoods, bells, and jefles. 
 
 Servant. Sir, next to the diverfion of angling, 
 my mafter loves falconry ; and I have feen him 
 caft and reclaim his hawks as fkilfully as the 
 beft gentleman in the county. He entertained 
 a noble large company of falconers, it is now 
 three months paft, and there were ib many 
 hounds and horfes they could fcarcely be pro- 
 vided withal. Neverthelefs, my mafter rather 
 applies himfelf to the practice of angling. 
 
 Angler. That I believe : and here is every 
 kind of harnefs for fifhing : fly rods and nets, 
 and fpears for eels. 
 
 Servant. So pleafe you, Sir, on thofe two 
 pegs yonder you may fee an old angle rod, that 
 my mafter lays great ftore by : it is roughly 
 made, but has killed a huge quantity of trouts 
 in its time ; for it belongs to a worthy gentle- 
 man, Mr. Izaak Walton. 
 
 Angler. Say you fo ? 
 
 Servant. And I have many times feen him 
 with that fpliced rod and a little bag of brand- 
 lings, with a line and a float for bottom fifhing, 
 fill a good fized pannier within a little diftance
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 from this, up and down Dove Dale. Indeed, 
 it is wonderful to fee his artful methods. 
 
 Angler. I perceive you are well acquainted 
 with his perfon. 
 
 Servant. Sir ! he is the moft familiar of my 
 mafter's friends : I have oftentimes waited upon 
 him a-fifhing, when he has vifited the Hall, 
 and hope to do fo again ; for there is none of 
 my mafter's guefts we are all fo pleafed to 
 ferve; he is fb condefcending, and always thinks 
 himfelf obliged. We have a chamber that my 
 mafter calls c Mr. Walton's own chamber? 
 
 Angler. Indeed ! I muft tell you I profefs 
 myfelf to be a fcholar of his, and we call him 
 the father of anglers : may we, therefore, have 
 permiflion to fee that apartment ? 
 
 Servant. With pleafure, Sir. 
 
 Angler. Come, brother, have you done with 
 your admiration of thofe limnings ? If you 
 pleafe, we may pafs on to fee Mr. Walton's 
 bed-chamber. 
 
 Painter. I am ready to attend you. 
 
 Servant. This way, Gentlemen, to the great 
 ftaircafe. 
 
 Angler. Lead on, and we will follow. 
 
 Servant. Sirs, here is the chamber I told 
 you of. 
 
 Painter. I declare, a goodly apartment ; and
 
 1 1 6 The River Dove. 
 
 his bed with handfome coverlid and hangings : 
 and I obferve three angels' heads flamped on 
 the ceiling in relief. 
 
 Angler. A fit emblem of the peaceful flum- 
 bers of the innocent ; and fo, I am fure, are 
 Mr. Walton's. And whofe picture is that over 
 the mantel ? 
 
 Servant. That is my mafter, Sir j it was 
 painted at Court, and brought laft fummer from 
 London. 
 
 Angler. What a lively exprefiion of eye, and 
 a great fweetnefs in the lips ! 
 
 Servant. It is the very look of my mafter j 
 and I have heard fay it was done by the king's 
 painter, after the exprefled defire of Mr. 
 Walton. 
 
 Painter. Aye, methought it was the touch 
 of Lely, who hath been fo defervedly ho- 
 noured by his Majefty with the dignity of 
 knighthood. 
 
 Angler. And is celebrated by the beft poets* 
 and wits of the age. 
 
 Painter. This portraiture is fo delicately 
 
 * Colonel Richard Lovelace infcribes a panegyric to 
 him in his Lucafta. And the following lines of Mr. 
 Charles Cotton, addreffed to the painter on another oc- 
 cafion, are applicable to his own portrait, and teftify 
 to the familiarity between the poet and the painter :
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 117 
 
 limned, and the colours fo admirable, it could 
 only be of a mafter's hand. 
 
 Angler. Befeech you, brother, may not this 
 chamber deferve to be highly efteemed of all 
 anglers ; think here it was VIATOR had his 
 lodgings, when Mr. Cotton brought him to his 
 houfe. 
 
 Hojl. There is the very bed where he was 
 promifed c Jheets laid up in lavender ,' and you 
 may be fure he had them. 
 
 Painter. And fee the pannels of oak-wood 
 in figured patterns over the chimney. 
 
 Angler. It is a rich work, and falls in with 
 the reft of the chamber : look at this fine cabi- 
 net chifelled in oak and inlaid with paintings. 
 
 Hofl. And here again the lattice windows 
 fet with the arms of Beresford and Cotton. 
 
 Painter. And whofe creft is that ? An eagle 
 with wings expanded, argent beaked and legged, 
 and holding in his dexter a belt azure ! 
 
 ' Nature and art are here at ftrife ; 
 ' This fhadow comes fo near to life, 
 ' Sit ftill, dear Lefy, thou'ft done that 
 ' Thyfelf muft love and wonder at.' 
 
 From a poem of Mr. Cotton's, ' To my friend Mr. Lefy, 
 ' on his pifture of the excellently virtuous lady, the Lady 
 ' Ifabella Thynne,' POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS. 
 Printed 1689, 8. ED.
 
 n8 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Hoft. That is my matter's creft, and you 
 may fee three cotton hanks for arms ; that agrees 
 with the name. 
 
 Angler. With a chevron azure between. 
 
 Painter. And a bear falient, fable armed 
 gules, muzzled and chain'd or. 
 
 Hoft. Thefe are the Beresford arms : and 
 here the quarterings of the noble family of the 
 Stanhopes. 
 
 Painter. Stanhope, fay you ? Quarterly er- 
 mine and gules How is that ? 
 
 Hoft. Sir, you are to note, my late miftrefs 
 Olive, the mother of Mr. Cotton, was the 
 daughter of Sir John Stanhope, Knt. by the 
 heirefs of Beresford. 
 
 Angler. I thank you ; it is all of a piece, and 
 excellently finimed. 
 
 Hojl. Gentlemen, if I may be fo bold to 
 remind you, we have many other things which 
 will entertain you for fome hours as the Flam- 
 beaux Tower, and the Fifhing Houfe, and the 
 River. 
 
 Angler. True ; our prefent pleafing thoughts 
 had made us forgetful : but we are ready to 
 follow you. 
 
 Hoft. Then, if you pleafe, we may defcend 
 once more to the hall, and fo into the garden. 
 And now I will lead you by this rifing
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ground to the Tower. 
 
 Angler. What is here ? a handfome terrace 
 of grafs, fet round with a double row of trees. 
 
 Hojl. This is the bowling green : if you will 
 take the trouble to look over this parapet, you 
 may fee a precipice fome hundred feet deep. 
 
 Angler. It is quite a gulph, but overgrown 
 with trees and briars. Here is a fmooth ground 
 for bowls ; and I remember PISCATOR fpeaks 
 of this bowling green, and declares himfelf to 
 be c no very great bowler ; ' but he fays, c I am 
 4 not fo totally devoted to my own pleafure y but 
 c that I have a If o fome regard to other men's.' 
 
 HoJJ. That was but his modeft opinion of 
 himfelf; for I have feen him play and win great 
 matches at bowls and quoits, both here and on 
 Wolfscote Hill, which is a little diftance on 
 the other fide of the Dove. But here we have 
 the Profpe6l Tower : you may fee how it ftands 
 on the higheft top of the rock, and within is an 
 ornamented fummer room. 
 
 Painter. It is a coftly building, and in due 
 proportions of architecture. 
 
 Angler. Then I befeech you deny me not a 
 picture, if it be but an outline, only a me- 
 mento. 
 
 Painter. I am free to do your bidding. And 
 would you have thqfe handfome ftone fteps and
 
 120 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 ballufters leading to the porch, and that ftone 
 feat near the door ? 
 
 Angler. Aye, fo pleafe you ; and do not for- 
 get fome of thofe fhady trees : but above all, 
 the beacon on the top, which has ferved his 
 beloved Hero to bring her Leander home, and 
 recalls the olden times of our forefathers : for 
 learned Mr. Lambarde,* in his Perambulation 
 of Kent, brings this word from the * Saxon 
 ' Becknian, which is to call by figne, or beck-on, 
 1 when they were made of great ftakkes of 
 4 wood, but were ordained by King Edward 
 c the Third to be highe ftandards with their 
 pitch-pots,' in the fafhion you here fee it. 
 
 Painter. 'Tis worthy of all my little fkill : 
 an enchanting fpot, and nothing neglected for 
 its adorning. 
 
 Angler. Was it built by merry Mr. Rolfton ? 
 
 Hoft. The fame ; and thofe fmooth ftones 
 were brought from the quarries of Sheen, fome 
 miles off; and my mafter told him to do his 
 utmoft ; becaufe his refolution was to have a 
 
 * A PERAMBULATION OF KENT, containing the 
 Defcriptive Hyftorie and Cuftomes of" that Shyre, by 
 William Lambarde, of Lincolnes Inne, Gent. 1576. 12. 
 He was one of the moft eminent antiquaries of this 
 country, and declared by the great Camden to be as 
 diftinguifhed for learning and piety. He was appointed
 
 T'he River Dove. 
 
 121 
 
 little apartment for his own efpecial privatenefs, 
 where he might feaft his eye with thefe prof- 
 pe6h, and fo retired from the world, that no 
 one might interpofe between him and the vein 
 of his thoughts. For he is fo inclinable to 
 be in love with books, that he will fometimes 
 pafs his day in a continual ftudy. 
 
 Angler. I remember, in that poem prefixed 
 to his COMPLETE ANGLER, he fays, 
 
 ' Dear folitude, the foul's beft friend, 
 ' That man acquainted with himfelf doft make, 
 ' And all his Maker's wonders to intend ; 
 ' With thee I here converfe at will, 
 ' And would be glad to do fo ftill ; 
 ' For it is thou alone that keep'st the foul awake. 
 ' How calm and quiet a delight 
 
 ' It is, alone, 
 ' To read, and meditate and write, 
 
 ' By none offended, and offending none ! ' 
 
 Painter. Well, it is a place, of all others, 
 where a man may create a phantaftic world 
 around him, free from all the accidents of for- 
 tune. And how tempered in our thoughts and 
 
 Keeper of the Records in the Tower, of which he pre- 
 fented an account to her Majefly, under the title of 
 Pandefta Rotulorum. This, with other great works, 
 did not fee the light till publifhed by his grandfon in 
 1635. His tomb may be found in the church of Seven- 
 oaks. ED.
 
 122 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 wifhes ftiould we all be, if we could oftener 
 regale ourfelves with fuch fpiritual repafts of 
 ftudy and contemplation ! But come, I have 
 defigned the tower in black and white ; and 
 now let us within. 
 
 Hoft. This way, Sirs, and fo to the top. 
 Here is the beacon and the marks of the torch- 
 lights, that have many a night guided my mafter 
 on his return to the Hall. 
 
 Angler. Look over this mirador, and fee the 
 garden below embroidered with rofes, and other 
 choiceft plants and flowers. 
 
 Painter. It is a little paradife : there is fuch 
 a concealed artfulnefs in thefe contrivances, as 
 makes them like a cultivated nature. 
 
 Hojl. This we ufe to call the garden of the 
 tower, and every flower and fhrub hath been 
 planted and watered by the hand of his Coun- 
 tefs.* 
 
 Angler. And here Mr. Cotton occupies many 
 hours with great pleafantnefs to himfelf, in writ- 
 ing thofe hiftories you fpoke of? 
 
 Painter. It is not to be wondered at ; for fo 
 peaceful a fpot might well kindle the thoughts 
 
 * The fecond wife of Mr. Cotton ; Mary, the daugh- 
 ter of Sir William Ruflell, and widow of Wingfield 
 Cromwell, Earl of Ardglafs. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 of a lefs cheerful writer. 
 
 Angler. But look ! what is yonder ? a houfe 
 by the fide of the river, in the fhade of fome 
 trees ! 
 
 Hoft. That, Sir, is the FISHING-HOUSE. 
 
 Angler. And the Dove, l that winds through 
 4 the vale like a fnake ?' 
 
 Ho/}. The fame. 
 
 Angler. What a fylvan profpect is here ! I 
 am tranfported with the defire of a nearer view. 
 
 Painter. Say you fo ? then let us proceed 
 towards it ; for I am no lefs impatient. 
 
 Hoft. Well, Sirs, now you are come down 
 from the tower, I will bring you to the river, 
 along a by-path. 
 
 Angler. Aye, here it is, by the fide of that 
 bench of ftone underneath the chefnut trees : 
 but have a care, brother, or you may ftumble 
 down. 
 
 Hojl. This way, fo pleafe you, Gentlemen ; 
 by this unorderly path under the am trees ; but 
 look to your heels ; for here are high rocks, and 
 fomewhat difficult. 
 
 Painter. So-ho ! Mr. Marfh, I cannot hold 
 pace with you. 
 
 Angler. Why what's the matter, Brother ? 
 
 Painter. Not fo faft ; I am like to tip 
 over. 
 
 123
 
 124 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Hoft. Here, Sir, take my hand, and put your 
 foot on this root ; fo, you are fafely down. 
 
 Angler. And here is the DOVE ! as limpid as 
 the Heliconian fprings ! 
 
 Painter. Come, mafter, give over your ec- 
 ftatics, or clothe your thoughts in fome poetic 
 lines. 
 
 Angler. Stay a while : for I fee a little temple 
 before us, fit for the ftirine of the mufes. 
 
 Hoft. It is the FISHING-HOUSE ; and I have 
 brought the key, that you may go in and look 
 about you. 
 
 Angler. Then I befeech you unlock at once ; 
 for I have a paflionate defire to put my foot 
 into this retreat ' dedicated to anglers ! ' What 
 do you think of this, brother ? c is it not prettily 
 ' contrived?' mark the cipher carved in the 
 front, on the keyftone of the door, which re- 
 prefents the firft letters of Mr. Walton's and 
 Mr. Cotton's names, underneath thofe inviting 
 words, PISCATORIBUS SACRUM, 1674. 
 
 Painter. Indeed a choice fpot for a fiming- 
 houfe ! 
 
 Angler. Aye, you fee ' it Jlands in a kind of 
 ' peninfula.' And you may remember how Mr. 
 Cotton promifed VIATOR, he fhould fee his 
 fifhing houfe ' upon the margin of one of the 
 ' finejt rivers for trout s and grayling in England.'
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 125 
 
 Mr. Walton's name and his twifted in cipher 
 declare the near affinity of love between thofe 
 happy anglers. 
 
 Painter. By and by I muft make a draught 
 of this, for the neat building, and this grove of 
 trees, and the Dove, make it all a moft engag- 
 ing landfkip. 
 
 Angler. And now we could only defire one 
 thing more ; to enjoy the company of thofe 
 loving fifhermen, and fee them take their recrea- 
 tion, and hear them fing together fome choice 
 fongs. But come, I am full of expectation for 
 what we may find within. 
 
 Hojt. Gentlemen, the door is open ! 
 
 Angler. This is marvelloufly contrived : what 
 a delight for fifhers ! all the wainfcoting covered 
 with landfcapes, and cheerful anglers on the 
 banks of the river, fitting in the made of rocks, 
 or cafting their flies into the ftream. 
 
 Painter. And fifties moft delicately painted 
 on the oak wainfcoting. 
 
 Angler. Aye, fpotted trouts, and graylings 
 done to the life. 
 
 Hofl. And here are the portraits of Mr. 
 Walton and Mr. Cotton, on the pannels of the 
 beaufet. 
 
 Angler. And indeed very handfome and be- 
 coming figures.
 
 126 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Hoft. Nor could they be more refembling ; 
 there is Mr. Walton in his ' fad coloured fuit,' 
 leaning againft a rock, who is now going to 
 bait his hooks ; and Mr. Cotton has his fly rod 
 in his hand, and a waiting boy behind with his 
 landing net. 
 
 Angler. Is this the portrait of Mr. Walton, 
 defigned by the gentleman architect from Not- 
 tingham ? 
 
 Hoft. The fame ; then Mr. Rolfton under- 
 took to paint this of Mr. Cotton, to be a com- 
 panion picture to him he loves fo dearly. 
 
 Painter. I declare I have never feen any 
 thing to pleafe me more. They are worthy of 
 each other. 
 
 Angler. Dear brother ! I dare not afk you 
 for what I now defire. 
 
 Painter. You may dare afk anything I can 
 pleafure you in. 
 
 Angler. If you could make me a true copy of 
 all we fee here, I mould be the happieft man alive. 
 
 Painter. I (hall do it willingly. 
 
 Angler. It is kindly fpoke, and that I may 
 entice you to the work, I will read to you that 
 pafTage in Mr. Cotton's book, where he brought 
 hither his happy companion. 
 
 Painter. Pr'ythee begin, and I'll prepare the 
 while.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Well then, you are to underftand, 
 Mr. Cotton and his gueft being up and dreft 
 early the next morning, after their journey from 
 Derby, PISCATOR faid to his boy, * Take the 
 4 key of my fijhing-houfe and carry down thefe 
 4 two angle rods in the hall window thither with 
 4 my fijh-pannier, pouch, and landing net, and 
 'flay you there till we come? And then down 
 they went cheerily together, and a delicate 
 morning it was ; and when they were arrived 
 at the door, PISCATOR invited the other to walk 
 in, and there fit and talk as long as he pleafed. 
 And VIATOR declared he was * more pleafed 
 1 with this little houfe than any thing he ever 
 1 faw : it Jiands in a kind ofpeninfula too, with 
 4 a delicate clear river about it. I dare hardly 
 4 go in, left I Jhould not like it fo well within as 
 4 without, but, by your leave, Pll try. Why, 
 4 this is better and better, fine lights, fine wainf- 
 4 coted, and all exceeding neat, with a marble 
 4 table and all in the middle.' 
 
 Painter. Here is the very table made out of 
 fine black marble. 
 
 Hojt. Taken from our Derbyshire pits, and 
 as you fee, clearly polifhed, and all rounded at 
 the corners. 
 
 Angler. And thefe chairs, carved in oak, with 
 the handfome pavement in black and white, are 
 
 127
 
 128 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 all of a piece with the other ornaments. 
 
 Painter. He was an exceeding fkilful limner, 
 and worthy of Mr. Cotton's friendfhip, that 
 painted thefe profpects and figures ; for the 
 hills and rocks are to the very nature, and for 
 the portraits, they are not inferior to any artift 
 of this day ; and it was a clear difcerning tafte 
 imagined all thofe ornamental fittings. 
 
 Angler. And fo thought his happy gueft, 
 VIATOR ; but Mr. Cotton civilly interrupted 
 his praifes, and faid, c Enough, Sir, enough ; I 
 ' have laid open to you the part where I can 
 ' worft defend myfelf, and now you attack me 
 ' there. Come, boy ! fet two chairs, and whilft 
 4 I am taking a pipe of tobacco, which is always 
 4 my breakfajl, we will, if you pleafe, talk of 
 < fomething elfe ;' and fo thefe affable gentlemen 
 agreed to converfe together about fly-fifhing 
 in clear rivers : but firft of all VIATOR faid to 
 Mr. Cotton, ' If you will lend me your Jleel, 
 1 I will light a pipe the while, for that is com- 
 * manly my breakfajl in a morning too : ' and 
 then down they fat, and PISCATOR gave him 
 fome inftru&ions in making of artificial flies, 
 which I have read attentively, and I may de- 
 clare them to be worthy of all remembrance 
 and practice by every hopeful angler. And after 
 that away they went to the river for their amufe-
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 129 
 
 ment, and to try the flies they had themfelves 
 twifted after nature. 
 
 Painter. And what then ? 
 
 Angler. I think you need not be told that 
 they had good fport of trouts ; and the ftranger 
 proved himfelf to deferve the character Mr. 
 Walton gave of him in his firft part of the 
 COMPLETE ANGLER. 
 
 Painter. And pray what was that ? 
 
 Angler. Why, Mr. Walton declared that he 
 was fo fuitable to his own humour, which is to 
 be free and pleafant, and civilly merry, that his 
 refolution was to hide nothing that he knew 
 from him. And I have no doubt Mr. Cotton 
 entertained the fame opinion of him; and fo they 
 fiftied the ftream till the fervant came to tell 
 them it was dinner time. And Mr. VIATOR 
 was fo allured with the fport, that the next 
 morning he longed to be at the river again ; 
 and when he heard the wind fmg in his cham- 
 ber window, could forbear no longer, but leapt 
 out of bed, and had juft made an end of drefling 
 himfelf as Mr. Cotton came in to call him 
 
 up. And now I will leave you to your- 
 
 felf ; only, I befeech you, as far as your patience 
 will allow you, reprefent all you fee : yet I 
 would not be unreafonable. 
 
 Painter. I am fo in love with the place,
 
 130 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 that I hope to fatisfy you in every particular ; fo 
 do you go and catch me a brace or two of trouts. 
 
 Angler. That I'll do willingly, and when your 
 work is finimed, come to me and you fhall try 
 your luck too. And now, Mr. Marfh, you 
 and I will walk forth and look at the river ; 
 good bye, brother, and remember this is to be 
 your mafterpiece. 
 
 Painter. I'll do my beft to give you plea- 
 fure : let me but find you with fome trouts 
 when I come. 
 
 Angler. Doubt me not ; farewell. 
 
 Ho/}. Now, Sir, will you pleafe go higher up 
 the ftream ? 
 
 Angler. With all my heart : but let me 
 untie my angle and line, that I may be ready : 
 and now what fly do you recommend ? here is 
 a cafe, full of all forts of my own making : 
 but I remember, Mr. Cotton fays, l they who 
 1 go to Rome^ mujl do as they at Rome do;' and 
 as I have a certain fort of pride, and have no 
 mind to be laughed at by that fatirical gentle- 
 man in the fifhing-houfe, I mail be glad to 
 make a good choice ; and I dare fay you know 
 the likings and diflikings of the trouts in the 
 Dove ? 
 
 Hofl. Well, Sir, I will not put on a falfe 
 modefty in that matter ; and if you'll let me fee
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 your cafe of flies, I may be able to find one or 
 two will make fome execution. 
 
 Angler. Here they are. 
 
 Ho/}. Aye, indeed ! Are thefe of your own 
 twifting ? They are very fkilfully done : nay, 
 Sir, Mr. Cotton himfelf could not tie them 
 better, and I am bold to fay you are no ftranger 
 to our Derbyfliire ftreams ? 
 
 Angler. It is not my firft feafon in the Dove 
 by many : and I know fomething of the Wye 
 and Derwent, and the clear Lathkill too. 
 
 Ho/I. Then, Sir, if you can fifh in the 
 Lathkill, which is beyond all emulation the 
 brighteft water in Derbyfliire, and perhaps in 
 England, and breeds the reddeft trouts, you 
 muft be well (killed in the art ; and fo I might 
 take you to be from thefe flies, which for 
 a clofe imitation of the natural fly are quite 
 mafterly. 
 
 Angler. I fee you would encourage me with 
 a little praife : but pr'ythee which do you re- 
 commend : it is early in the feafon for a GREEN 
 DRAKE, but here is the STONE FLY : or would 
 you prefer the DUN CUT ? 
 
 Ho/I. Sometimes I have known the GREEN 
 DRAKE to appear before this, and you may de- 
 pend he will be out in a few days, for I have 
 examined the caddis and thev are almoft come
 
 132 
 
 The River D 
 
 ove. 
 
 to maturity ; but you cannot have a better fly 
 than this DUN CUT, and it is an excellent piece 
 of workmanfhip. 
 
 dngler. I'll make the trial of it ; and now 
 the wind is whittling, and the water curls mer- 
 rily, fo let us begin. 
 
 Hoft. There, Sir, was a rife. 
 
 Angler. Nay, he came fhort ; but there he 
 is again. I have him ; fo, fo ; now, Mr. Marfh, 
 for the net : 'twas well landed, and a fine fifh 
 it is ; but I have feen fome in better feafon 
 ah ! there is another ; methinks he's yet bigger : 
 and now I come to look at him, he's better fed : 
 and there's a third ! Well, this is a gamefome 
 river. 
 
 Hoft. Indeed, Sir, you have a gentle wrift. 
 I wim Mr. Cotton could fee you ; he would 
 not part with you for fome days ; but would 
 entertain you with fo many pleafures, that you 
 would be contented to remain at the Hall, and 
 almoft forget yourfelf to be a ftranger. 
 
 Angler. Would he were here ! 
 
 Hojt. Alas ! I would he were with all my 
 heart. 
 
 Angler. I have the greateft defire poflible 
 to fee a gentleman endowed with fo many ac- 
 complifhments, and of fuch a generous fpirit. 
 But let us move upwards.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Hoft. Aye, Sir ; yonder, where the river 
 makes a bend, 'tis a deep water, and ftill ; but 
 it is ruffled by a good breeze of wind, and you'll 
 find fome large trouts lie there. 
 
 Angler. Wherever you recommend. What 
 a green turfy walk is here ! I could almoft 
 envy Mr. Walton his angling with a float, to 
 fit on fuch a bank, and recline himfelf under 
 the (hade of thefe trees : the grafs is fo well 
 mowed, 'tis as foft under foot as velvet, and 
 fit for a bowling ground. 
 
 Hoft. Sometimes Mr. Cotton and his friends 
 will have their pleafure here at bowls inftead of 
 yonder by the Tower. 
 
 Angler. Well, it muft take the work of fome 
 labouring men to keep all this grafs plot fo 
 fmooth, for there is near two acres of it. 
 
 Hoft. Yes, Sir, the gardeners have enough 
 to do : and this brings to my mind a ftory of 
 Mr. Cotton but it is not worth your hearing. 
 
 Angler. I pray you let me have it whatever 
 it is. 
 
 Hoft. Well, Sir, I need not tell you my 
 mafter is the fartheft poflible from an avari- 
 cious man, for his hand and purfe are open to 
 the poor ; and he will always have his fervants 
 well provided : but the cook is fometimes a 
 pinch-cruft, and then the fervants will grumble.
 
 '34 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Now it chanced one day, in the laft fummer, 
 as Mr. Cotton walked down this way to fifh, 
 the mowers were cutting the grafs badly, and 
 fo he cried out to them, ' How now, fellows ! 
 4 what do you call this ? a grafs plot or a mea- 
 ' dow land ? I pray you let me fee it better 
 ' done, and fmoothly.' Thereupon they looked 
 at one another doubtingly, and whifpered among 
 themfelves : at length one that was known to 
 be fomething of a dry wit among them, after 
 fome little perfuafive winks and nods of the 
 others, came forward with his hat in his hand 
 to be their fpokefman. Then in a very hum- 
 ble tone, and with fomething of a facetious 
 look, which always takes with Mr. Cotton, 
 he faid, 
 
 ' Little meat, and half enough, 
 
 ' Makes the fcythe cut high and rough.' 
 
 So becaufe Mr. Cotton has no aufterity of be- 
 haviour towards the loweft and pooreft man 
 that fpeaks to him civilly, he enquired what his 
 meaning was, and then the truth came out. 
 ' Well, well, honeft man,' he replied, ' go to 
 ' your work, and I'll prefently fee to it.' And 
 fo he walked home to the Hall, and there he 
 made a rout at the cook, and ordered a fervant 
 to take down provifions enough, and plenty ; 
 and in the afternoon he found his rafcals hard
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 at work, bending luftily over their fcythes. 
 Then he goes and looks at them ; and then out 
 fteps the poet with his hat in his hand as before, 
 and fays to him, 
 
 ' Now we've meat, and fome to fpare, 
 ' It makes the fcythe both wipe and pare,' 
 
 meaning the grafs mould be cut fmooth and 
 fine. So Mr. Cotton laughed at his ruftical 
 wit, and faid c go to go to, thou art a wag ; ' 
 and fo he turned away, and took his recreation 
 a-fifhing, and I am fure he was more entertained 
 than he chofe to tell them. 
 
 jfngler. They are happy fervants to be under 
 a mafter who is fb accoftable and fweet tem- 
 pered. But here comes the gentleman from 
 
 the fifhing-houfe. 
 
 Painter. So, brother, what fport ? 
 
 Angler. Excellent good. And how have you 
 fped ? 
 
 Painter. Thofe paintings in the fifliing-houfe 
 have detained me longer than I thought ; but 
 I have done them with all the correr,nefs I am 
 mafter of. 
 
 Angler. A thoufand thanks to you. But look 
 ye, a large fifh has come to me : I have him 
 faft ; now do you take the rod, and you mall 
 have the praife to kill this trout within view of 
 Mr. Cotton's fifhing-houfe. 
 
 '35
 
 136 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. It may be the ill luck to lofe one ; 
 for I fhall but bungle at him. 
 
 Angler. Come, be perfuaded, and quickly. 
 
 Painter. Well, then, I'll try a bout with 
 him. Ah me ! what an unmannerly glutton 
 it is. 
 
 Angler. Point your rod high keep him with 
 a fteady hand ; fo it is well done. 
 
 Painter. Ah me ! how he ftruggles there ! 
 faw you that tumble he made ? Shall I jerk 
 him out ? 
 
 Angler. Oh, by no means j but have patience : 
 give him his play, and a little more line fo-ho ! 
 that's enough hold up your rod there, now 
 wind him up with a difcretion, and we fhall 
 bring him to land prefently. 
 
 Painter. Where is the net ? 
 
 Angler. I have it ready ; fetch him round 
 hither. 
 
 Painter. There was a tug he gave : I fhall 
 lofe him befeech you take the rod again. 
 
 Angler. Pardon me, you fhall have your 
 fport : worry him a bit : fee how he lies on the 
 water this way, and now you have him, as you 
 well deferve. 
 
 Painter. That was exceeding fine fport; I 
 never thought the pleafures of angling were fo 
 great. I'm quite hot and confufed. He is a
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 handfome fifh, fpotted red all over. How many 
 have you taken ? 
 
 Angler. Three trouts ; but this laft you have 
 fo handled like a fkilful 'prentice in the art is 
 worth them all : it is a heavy fim, and fee what 
 fine condition he's in. You (hall make another 
 trial lower down the ftream, where the water 
 is in rapids. But before we go let me fee your 
 paintings. 
 
 Painter. There they are ; and I was never 
 more in love with my employment, than when 
 I fat in the fifhing-houfe, and faw Mr. Walton 
 and Mr. Cotton looking upon me from the doors 
 of the beaufet. I have endeavoured all I could, 
 (but in vain) to delineate honeft Izaak, who 
 looks fo meekly. 
 
 Angler. Nay ; it is an exaft copy of yonder 
 portrait : what can be more winning than to 
 fee his mute calmnefs, which only happy anglers 
 know ! And Mr. Cotton, whofe native difpo- 
 fition {nines in that mirthful countenance, which 
 can be no other than his own. What fay you, 
 mine hoft, to this limning ; hath my brother 
 caught Mr. Cotton's look ? 
 
 Ho/I. Aye, Sir, to the life : indeed I con- 
 fefs myfelf furprifed how this gentleman hath 
 handled it. And fo for Mr. Walton, you 
 may now declare yourfelf to be acquainted
 
 138 The River Dove. 
 
 with his perfon, and garb, and gefture. 
 
 Painter. I hope you fpeak freely as you 
 think, and then I am fatisfied ; and here is the 
 external of the fifhing-houfe, at a near view. 
 
 Angler. It is all exceeding good ; the lights 
 and fhades of this inviting fpot painted with a 
 perceptible truth. 
 
 Painter. And here is one more which is the 
 fifhing-houfe within doors ; and that, I muft 
 fay, is the beft of all. 
 
 dngler. I proteft this is even beyond your- 
 felf. ' Give me leave to embrace you' Why, 
 Sir, it is a matchlefs piece of art. Look you, 
 Mr. Marfli, there we all are, as like as poffible, 
 talking in the fiming-houfe. 
 
 Ho/t. I have never feen fuch a natural 
 painting. 
 
 Painter. Come, come, Sirs ; you fo en- 
 hance my poor deferts, you make me blum, 
 indeed you do. 
 
 jfngler. I fpeak nothing more than the truth : 
 the colours are admirable, and the whole is 
 breathing with life and there is the beaufet in 
 fmall and the rocks and river, and contented 
 anglers fitting befide them : every touch of 
 Mr. Rolfton glowing with an equal vivacity. 
 I cannot thank you enough. 
 
 Painter. Well, brother, the pleafure you ex-
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 prefs is a full reward for all my pains. So, if 
 you pleafe let us return towards thofe rocks we 
 pafled in our way from the ProfpecT: Tower. 
 
 Anglrr. Moft willingly ; and there it was I 
 had a purpofe in my mind, to put you in the 
 way to catch another trout. 
 
 Painter. But what have we yonder, oppofite 
 to this bend of the ftream ? It feems a fantaf- 
 tical place. 
 
 Ho/I. That, Sirs, is a green recefs, built up 
 by my matter, where he will fometimes have 
 his friends to dine in fummer, and now and 
 then give them a game of bowls for their en- 
 tertainment in the cool, of the evening. You 
 may fee the {helving fides are of foft mofly turf, 
 and made to lean upon at your length. I have 
 often been a witnefs. to the innocent mirth of 
 Mr. Cotton when he has entertained his guefts 
 underneath thofe trees ; as Mr. Alexander 
 Brome,* and Mr. Flatman, of the Inner Tem- 
 ple, in London, and others. And I remember, 
 it is many years now paft, (indeed it was that 
 memorable joyful year of the king's return from 
 
 * Alexander Brome, a poet, born i6zo, and died 
 1666, eminent for his loyalty. His congratulatory poem 
 on the miraculous and glorious return of Charles znd, 
 fol. was publimed 1660 ; and his fongs and poems, 1664. 
 8vo. ED. 
 
 '39
 
 140 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 his forced exile,) Mr. Walton fent my mafter 
 word, that he and their mutual friend, Mr. 
 Brome, chancing together to be in Stafford, 
 had challenged one the other to walk on pil- 
 grimage to Beresford, and make free with the 
 trouts in his river Dove. Well do I remember 
 the joy of my mafter, when he received the 
 letter : alas ! methinks thofe happy days fhall 
 never return. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Mr. Marfh : it is the per- 
 mitted liberty of an honeft reafon to * hope all 
 4 things ;' fortune will fometimes flout the beft 
 of men, and lead them forcibly through all forts 
 of contrary meanders and labyrinths ; but me 
 can never deject the fpirits of brave chriftian 
 men.* I befeech you entertain more cheerful 
 
 * Mr. Cotton's hopeful temper amidft his cares has 
 been well exprefied in thefe lines ' To my dear and moft 
 ' worthy friend, Mr. Ifaac Walton. 
 
 ' And fome delight it is the while, 
 
 ' Though nature now does weep in rain, 
 
 * To think that I have feen her fmile, 
 
 ' And haply may I do again. 
 
 ' If the all-ruling Power pleafe 
 * We live to fee another May, 
 
 * We'll recompenfe an age of thefe 
 
 f Foul days in one fine fifliing day." 
 
 Poems on feveral Occafions. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 thoughts : and did the introduction of Mr. 
 Brome follow this felf-invitation of the Stafford 
 pilgrims ? 
 
 Hoji. Aye, Sir : and Mr. Thomas Flatman 
 chanced at the time to be a gueft at the Hall, 
 a moft ingenious and alluring companion, who, 
 as I have heard my mafter jocofely fay, was the 
 happy accepted lover of two miftrefles. 
 
 jfngler. And yet, methinks, in his younger 
 days, he wrote a ballad againft the peaceable 
 joys of matrimony. 
 
 Painter. Mr. Cotton jefted merrily with his 
 friend, well knowing how at once he woo'd the 
 fifter arts of Poefy and Painting : * and, indeed, 
 fb evenly divided his affections between them, 
 that it may be doubted to which .he paid moft 
 fuccefsful courtlhip. 
 
 * Thomas Flatman. His poems were firft publifhed 
 in 1674, 8vo. The ballad here alluded to will be found 
 at p. 121. He afterwards took to him a wife, and was 
 ferenaded by his companions with his own contumelious 
 fong againft marriage. His own portrait defigned by 
 himfelf, is prefixed to his Poems : and the following 
 lines, in his * Pindarique Ode, The Reiiie-iv,'' are a tef- 
 timony to his praUce of limning ; 
 
 ' To extricate myfelf from Love, 
 
 ' Which I could ill obey, but worfe command, 
 ' I took my Penfils in my hand ;
 
 142 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Hojt. Well, Sir, when the meflage came 
 from Mr. Walton, my mafter and Mr. Flat- 
 man could fcarce exprefs the happy thoughts 
 that poflefled them ; only this I may fay, every 
 hour feemed to be an age till the arrival of 
 their friends ; and the fervants in the houfe 
 participated in the bufy expectation of their 
 coming ; and Mr. Walton's lodging chamber, 
 and one for Mr. Brome were prepared. Then 
 at length thefe friends had the happinefs to em- 
 brace each other ; and feeing it was in the heat 
 of fummer, Mr. Cotton brought them, after 
 dinner, to this recefs, and there entertained 
 them with pipes, and fruits, and wine ; and 
 becaufe it was foon after the king's happy and 
 glorious recovery of his throne, they fung fome 
 loyal fongs, and drank the king's health in old 
 Canary. 
 
 Angler. It was worthy of honeft cavaliers ; 
 and who is there would not gladly have joined 
 in fuch a merry-making ? 
 
 ' With that artillery for conqueft ftrove : 
 ' Like wife Pigmalion thus did I 
 ' Myfelf defign my Deity. 
 
 ' If (he did frown, one dam could make her fmile, 
 ' All bickerings one eafy ftroke could reconcile : 
 ' Thus did I quiet many a froward day, 
 ' While in my eyes my foul did play.' ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' Oh how happy was their leifure, 
 ' Oh how innocent their pleafure ! 
 ' Oh ye vallies, oh ye mountains, 
 ' Oh ye groves and cryftal fountains ! 
 ' How they loved to vi/itye, 
 ' And too/} the king at liberty.'' 
 
 Think, what a happy concurrence of four poets ! 
 Methinks I now fee them, feated round this 
 ftone table, beneath the fhadowy fycamore-trees 
 and elms. 
 
 Painter. Four poets, fay you ? Thou haft 
 a creative fancy ; for Mr. Walton was but a 
 writer of profe ; notwithftanding, I am ready to 
 grant his images of rural life are as poetical as 
 any in our language, and his COMPLEAT AN- 
 GLER a continued paftoral, abounding in natural 
 refinement nay, equal to thofe of Phineas 
 Fletcher* or Michael Drayton.f 
 
 Angler. Doubt not, Sir, that Mr. Walton 
 may claim his niche in the Temple of the Mufes : 
 
 * Author of the Purple Ifland, printed 1633, 410. 
 and Pifcatory Eclogues, 1633, 4to. ED. 
 
 f Michael Drayton was an admirable poet, and 
 amongft other numerous works, wrote the Shepherd's 
 Garland, fafliioned in 9 Eglogs, which was printed in 
 1593, 4to. Alfo the POLY-ALBION, a chorographical 
 defcription of all the traces, rivers, mountains, forefts, 
 and other parts of this renowned ifle of Great Britain, 
 1611, 1613, and i6zz, all in folio. ED.
 
 144 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 and indeed, of all thofe who fung joyful quar- 
 tettes that day within this recefs, he had as clear 
 a title as any to be crowned with the bays of 
 Parnaflus : for when you read, as I hope you 
 will do, the ingenious poems of loyal Mr. Brome, 
 you will find in the prefix of'friendly encomiums 
 beftowed upon it, a moft joyous eclogue of Da- 
 mon and Dorus, and writ by Mr. Walton that 
 very day of the King's Majeftie's reftoration ; 
 indeed, I cannot give it a higher teftimony of 
 praife than that it is worthy of his fertile pen ; 
 and thus it begins ; 
 
 Damon. 
 
 ' Hail happy day ! Doms, fit down ; 
 ' Now let no figh, nor let no frown, 
 ' Lodge near thy heart nor on thy brow : 
 
 * The King ! the King's return'd ! and now 
 ' Let's banifh all fad thoughts, and fing 
 
 ' ' We have our laws, and have our King.' 
 
 Dorus, 
 ' "Pis true, and I would fing, but oh ! 
 
 * Thefe wars have funk my heart fo low, 
 < 'Twill not be raifed. 
 
 Damon. 
 
 ' What not this day ? 
 ' Why, 'tis the twenty-ninth of May : 
 1 Let rebels' fpirits fink ; let thofe 
 That like the Goths and Vandals rofe 
 ' To ruin families, and bring 
 ' Contempt on our Church and King,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 H5 
 
 ' And all that's dear to us, be fad ; 
 
 
 * But be not thou ; let us be glad. 
 
 
 * Yea, let us dance, make hands, and fing 
 
 
 ' 'We have our laws : GOD SAVE THE KING.'* 
 
 
 Iz. Walton. 
 
 
 Painter. I fay Amen : and may we always 
 
 
 4 have our laws and have our King /' and now 
 
 
 let us walk higher up the ftream, which may 
 
 
 vie with the poetic Caftalia as the happy refort 
 
 
 of the Mufes. 
 
 
 Hojt. Gentlemen, you will find the river very 
 
 
 pleafant below, and when you are acrofs the 
 
 
 bridge by that rock, not many fteps paft the 
 
 
 fifhing-houfe, you will fuddenly find yourfelves. 
 
 
 in Derbyfhire. 
 
 
 Angler. I am ready for any thing, where all 
 
 
 is fo full of pleafure. 
 
 
 Hojt. And now that we are come to it, fo 
 
 
 pleafe you, I'll take my leave, for I have bufi- 
 
 
 nefs at Hartington : and here is the wallet with 
 
 
 a ftore of provifions for dinner ; and fo, Gen- 
 
 
 tlemen, my humble fervice to you ; I wifh you 
 
 
 good luck a-fifhing. 
 
 
 Angler. Farewell. Now, Brother, let us 
 
 
 crofs to the other fide into Derbyfhire, for fb 
 
 
 * To my ingenious friend, Mr. Brome, on his various 
 
 
 and excellent poems : an humble eglog. Damon and 
 
 
 Dorus. Written the 29th May, 1660. ED. 

 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Mr. Cotton did with his friend VIATOR, and 
 promifed c a good fijb Jhould fall to bis Jhare. 
 
 Painter. I pray you ftay yet a moment within 
 this profpe6t, for I am wholly pofTefied with 
 fome peaceful thoughts, that I would not drive 
 away for any recreation you can promife me. 
 There is a murmur of the waters over that 
 ledge of rock, which keeps time with a mufical 
 meafure, and invites us to linger on the margin. 
 Think how many thoufand years the Dove 
 has flowed along this rocky dale, and (hall flow 
 for ages yet to come. So God provides for the 
 fuftaining of His works ; ' He fendeth the 
 c fprings into the valleys He watereth the hills 
 'from His chambers.''* And as the River is 
 to the natural world, fo is the CHURCH to GOD'S 
 fpiritual people on earth. In the 'firft begin- 
 nings flowing from the fountain of the precious 
 blood of His own eternal SON : alas ! a little 
 defpifed ftream that burft forth from Calvary ; 
 but deftined by His myfterious will to flow 
 through the world, gathering into herfelf and 
 purifying all the tributary branches to fwell her 
 into an unknown dignity and grandeur. 
 
 Angler. And who can exprefs the bleflings 
 me hath imparted to the nations by her admi- 
 
 * Pfalm civ. 10.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 niftration of holy facraments, and united wor- 
 mip, according to the infpired oracles, moulding 
 her children, after the pattern of their Saviour, 
 in innocency and love. Think of the happy 
 multitudes who have been warned in her facra- 
 mental element, as the appointed laver of rege- 
 neration ! Think how her ordinances and har- 
 monious doctrines, her miniftry and her creeds, 
 founded by the holy apoftles, have been the 
 fufficient cure of all heart-aches and corroding 
 cares, the refuge of all unquietnefs, and the very 
 bond of unity to all Catholic Chriftians fcattered 
 over the world ! 
 
 Painter. And as me hath proceeded onwards 
 from the diftant apoftolic ages, bearing the image 
 of Chrift, fo me will continue to be the mother 
 of all, who are baptized into His death. 
 
 Angler. And notwith {landing profane fece- 
 ders, turning to their own inventions, mail fall 
 away, and vainly hope to ftop her courfe, and 
 fully the purity of her ftreams ; frill the promife 
 is fure, and (he mail flow on with her unceafing 
 tide, until at laft me mail pour all her collected 
 waters into the boundlefs ocean of eternity. 
 But come, let us purfue our quiet walks ; 
 for I verily believe there is nothing in all this 
 to forbid poor creatures of the earth taking their 
 innocent enjoyment. Indeed, all thefe vifible
 
 148 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 beauties of nature are but fweet expreffions of 
 the divine mind, that we mould rejoice in Him 
 who hath created them. But remember, when 
 the wifeft of men fays, l go thy way, eat thy 
 ' bread with joy, and drink thy wine with a 
 1 merry heart,'* he adds, ' it is the gift of God^ 
 whereof we fhall one day give an account. And 
 now I am ready to accompany you. 
 
 Painter. Come, then, for I have a great de- 
 fire to make my large trout a brace, fo let us to 
 our angles. 
 
 Angler. Look you, Brother, here I have a 
 fecond angle rod, that we may both fifti in 
 company ; now fay, whether it fhall be a fly 
 or a worm ? You are at liberty to make a 
 choice. 
 
 Painter. Not a doubt, but a worm and a 
 quill for me. 
 
 Angler. Nay, nay, let me perfuade you to 
 be a fly-fimerj aflure yourfelf it is a delicate 
 fport, worthy of an ingenious artift as you are ; 
 and all anglers are agreed that it is the plea- 
 fanteft and moft fkilful way to deceive trouts. 
 
 Painter. I will not lofe time in arguments ; 
 but remit you to honeft Izaak Walton, that is 
 henceforth my mafter of angling. 
 
 * Eccl. ix. 7.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. As you will : here is your tackling ; 
 and now you are fitted ; fo let us go over the 
 bridge, that we may follow Mr. Cotton's foot- 
 fteps ; for be fure he muft know the likelicft 
 holes in his own river. And he faid to his 
 companion, 4 You Jhall now go downward to 
 4 fame jir earns between the rocks, below the little 
 4 foot bridge you fee there, and try your fortune. 
 4 Take heed of flipping into the water as you fol- 
 4 low me under the rock.' That is the very fpot 
 where you now ftand. 
 
 Painter. He muft be an unhandy clown, 
 that fhould flip, for there is room enough, and 
 to fpare. 
 
 Angler. Well, this is the fpot where he ad- 
 vifed VIATOR to throw in ; to which the other 
 replied : 4 This is a fineftream indeed ! There 
 4 is one / have him.' 
 
 4 And a precious catch you have of him,' an- 
 fwered Mr. Cotton, 4 pull him out ! I fee you 
 4 have a tender hand. This is a diminutive gen- 
 4 tleman, even throw him in again and let him 
 4 grow till he be more worthy your anger.' 
 
 4 Pardon me, Sir,' (then faid VIATOR) 4 all's 
 4 fifl) that comes to the hook with me now.' 
 
 Painter. Bravely refolved ; and I declare I 
 mean to follow this example, if I have permif- 
 fion to do fo. 
 
 149
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. You fhall do as you lift. Only l fijh 
 ' me this Jtream by inches ,' after Mr. Cotton's 
 inftru&ions. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart, and I am fo 
 much in love with his river and his inftruc- 
 tions, that I fcarce know which to think the 
 beft. 
 
 Angler. Well then, to make you love them 
 both the more, you are to underftand VIATOR 
 caught another and another. After that Pis- 
 CATOR invited him * to go down the other fide, 
 ' lower, where you will find finer Jlreams and 
 c better fport, I hope, than this ; ' fo let us do 
 the fame. 
 
 Painter. Wherever you pleafe. 
 
 Angler. Now we are over the bridge and 
 into the Peak of Derbyfhire ; and here it was 
 the ingenious fifhers pleafed themfelves and 
 each other with a difcourfe on angling : and 
 thought their recreation was innocent, as being 
 an encourager of cheerfulnefs, patience, and 
 brotherly kindnefs. So do you begin ; but keep 
 at your diftance, left the fifties fee you, before 
 you get a glimpfe of them ; for you are to re- 
 member the Dove is one of the cleareft rivers 
 in all England. Now let your quill go with 
 the ftream by the bank yonder, for hereabouts 
 it was PISCATOR aflured him, there were very
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 good fifh ; ' both trout and grayling lie here ; 
 4 and at that GREAT STONE on the other fide, 
 4 'tis ten to one a good trout gives you the 
 ' meeting.' 
 
 Painter. Then I'll offer him all the temp- 
 tation I can. Ah ! faw you that, Mr. Angler, 
 my quill went under the water ; and there 
 again ! 
 
 Angler. I pray you be quiet : now ftrike, 
 but as Mr. Cotton fays, ' with moderation.' 
 
 Painter. So, I have him tight. 
 
 Angler. Be gentle ; he is gone, as I feared. 
 
 Painter. 'Twas my haftinefs ! I incautioufly 
 ftrained at him : but you {hall find me manage 
 the next with greater {kill. 
 
 Angler. Truft me, you have your leflbn to 
 learn ; for angling is no lefs an art than a plea- 
 fure, and one that requires both patience and 
 fkill. 
 
 Painter. That I plainly fee : but I have 
 baited my hook again : and there is another 
 pulling at my worm. Now, if I do not vex 
 him, call me no fifherman : aye, aye, mafter, 
 you may plunge and fhift as you will j but I 
 hold you now. 
 
 Angler. Have a care, for he is a fine one. 
 
 Painter. Fear me not ; you {hall fee the 
 manner of my handling : but there ! he has
 
 152 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 thrown off into the middle of the ftream ; how 
 he dives and plucks about ! I hope he will not 
 demolifh my tackle. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, do not tear him about 
 too much. 
 
 Painter. What a rage he is in ! fo, fo 
 he begins to ficken. Where's the net ? thank 
 you we have him. Now, Sirrah : where are 
 you ? I declare he is as big as the other I 
 caught up yonder. And now, brother, that I 
 may not hinder you, leave me here alone, with 
 my angle rod ; and I befeech you let me have 
 that pleafant book, which Mr. Walton and Mr. 
 Cotton have printed together, with a love fo 
 communicable ; that while I recline on this 
 bank, I may remember how they have often 
 done the fame thing : and it may be I will leave 
 my angle rod for a time, 4 to fim for itfelf,' and 
 make a landfkip ; for look how pleafantly the 
 Profpet Tower hangs over our heads : and I 
 am fure that rock is a hundred feet high ; and 
 is crowned with oak and am trees, that grow 
 in all the crevices. 
 
 Angler. There are many paflages of rare 
 beauty in all this glade ; and fince you are fo 
 difpofed, I will invite you to that rifing ground, 
 and there you {hall defign the fiming-houfe, 
 and the Tower on the rock, fo as I may have a
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 '53 
 
 combination of thofe two with the bridge, and 
 all the river and the craggy fides. It will be a 
 choice profpecl: ! 
 
 Painter. You are right, and it (hall be done 
 to the beft of my abilities ; but I'll lay my angle 
 in the river, near to that c great JloneJ fb that 
 I may have my chance of a trout whilft I'm at 
 work. 
 
 Angler. And becaufe you leave your angle 
 for my fake, I will read fome pafTages out of 
 Mr. Walton's COMPLETE ANGLER for your 
 entertainment before I begin fifhing. Here 
 is not this a favourable fpot ? 
 
 Painter. Aye : come, let us fit on this grafs, 
 that fmells fo fweetly of wild flowers ; and do 
 you make a choice out of Mr. Walton's book. 
 Angler. Well, then, you may remember, 
 that on a time, in a cheerful morning in the 
 month of May, VENATOR, a huntfman, walked 
 out towards Hodfden, (that is a country village 
 not many miles from London,) where he had 
 appointed a friend or two to meet him, that they 
 might beftow a day on hunting the otter. Then, 
 by the way, he fell into the company of a Gen- 
 tleman Falconer, and as thefe were come toge- 
 ther to Tottenham Crofs, in Hertfordfhire, Mr. 
 Walton overtook them : fo, after his own civil 
 manner he accofted the ftrangers, and afked of
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 their journey and occafions, faying, ' You are 
 ' well overtaken, gentlemen, a good morning to 
 ' you both. I have ftretched my legs up Tot- 
 1 tenham Hill to overtake you, hoping your 
 * bufmefs may occafion you towards Ware, 
 ' whither I am going this fine frefh May morn- 
 c ing.' Now, Mr. Walton poflefles that be- 
 nignity of fpirit, and fuch a winning method of 
 difcourfe, that you may eafily believe ' he made 
 c the way feem fhorter' by his good company. 
 
 Painter. He fhould be a pattern of cheerful 
 gravity, or he has, I know not what, artifice 
 to make himfelf appear fo, fince his writings 
 betoken fo many endowments of native gen- 
 tlenefs. 
 
 Angler. But that it is no artifice I may take 
 upon me to declare, and to fay the truth, an 
 inbred fweetnefs and compliance are notable, 
 both in his look and words ; infomuch that 
 AUCEPS, the falconer, on his firft acquaintance, 
 took the liberty to fay : c Methinks, Sir, we may 
 ' promife good difcourfe from you that both 
 ' look and fpeak fo cheerfully.' 
 
 Painter. Then after thofe polite falutations 
 they were all inclinable to travel pleafantly to- 
 wards Ware ? 
 
 Angler. And as they walked and converfed, 
 they praifed their feveral recreations : and firft,
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Mr. AUCEPS, the falconer, exercifed their at- 
 tention concerning the element he ufed to trade 
 in, which was the air ; and he would fain make 
 it clear, that this was ' an element that exceeds 
 ' both the earth and water ; and, though I fome- 
 ' times deal in both,' (this is what Mr. AUCEPS 
 faid) ' yet the air is moft properly mine ; I and 
 ' my hawks ufe that moft, and it yields us moft 
 c recreation ; it flops not the foaring of my 
 ' noble, generous falcon ; in it fhe afcends to 
 ' fuch a height as the dull eyes of beafts and 
 ' fifh are not able to reach to ; their bodies are 
 ' too grofs for fuch high elevations : in the air 
 ' my troops of hawks foar up on high, and 
 ' when they are loft in the fight of men, then 
 ' they attend upon and converfe with the gods ; 
 ' therefore I think my eagle is fo juftly ftyled 
 ' Jove's fervant in ordinary : and that very fal- 
 ' con, that I am now going to fee, deferves no 
 4 meaner a title, for fhe ufually in her flight 
 1 endangers herfelf, like the fon of Daedalus, 
 ' to have her wings (torched by the fun's heat, 
 ' fhe flies fo near it : but her mettle makes her 
 ' carelefs of danger ; for fhe then heeds nothing, 
 ' but makes her nimble pinions cut the fluid 
 4 air, and fo makes her highway over the 
 1 fteepeft mountains and deepeft rivers, and in 
 1 her glorious career looks with contempt upon
 
 56 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 thofe high fteeples and magnificent palaces 
 ' which we adore and wonder at ; from which 
 1 height I can make her to defcend by a word 
 1 from my mouth (which fhe both knows and 
 4 obeys) to accept of meat from my hand, to 
 4 own me for her mafter, to go home with me, 
 4 and be willing the next day to afford me the 
 ' like recreation.' Now, is not that a cheerful 
 defcription ? and, that I may not be thought 
 immoderate, I will omit many pafTages ; but I 
 befeech you liften to the praifes that Mr. Fal- 
 coner makes of 4 thofe little nimble muficians 
 4 of the air, that warble forth their curious dit- 
 1 ties, with which nature hath furnimed them 
 4 to the fhame of art. As firft the lark, when 
 4 fhe means to rejoice ; to cheer herfelf and 
 4 thofe that hear her ; fhe then quits the earth, 
 4 and fings as fhe afcends higher into the air, 
 4 and having ended her heavenly employment, 
 4 grows then mute and fad, to think fhe mufl 
 4 defcend to the dull earth, which fhe would not 
 4 touch, but for neceflity.' 
 
 Painter, Aye ! 4 grows then mute and fad 
 4 to think fhe muft defcend to the dull earth !' 
 How natural that is ! Mr. Walton's words are 
 more mufical than the fong of the lark and 
 his flrains higher than her aerial flight, for they 
 bring you nearer to thoughts of heaven.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Then he proceeds : c How do the 
 c blackbird and throflel with their melodious 
 c voices bid welcome to the cheerful Spring, 
 ' and in their fixed mouths warble forth fuch 
 ' ditties as no art or inftrument can reach to ! 
 c Nay, the fmaller birds alfo do the like, in 
 4 their particular feafons, as, namely, the leve- 
 ' rock, the titlark, the little linnet, and the 
 ' honeft robin, that loves mankind both alive 
 ' and dead.' 
 
 Painter. Beautiful ! < the honeft robin that 
 4 loves mankind both alive and dead ;' that has 
 an allufion to the ballad of the Babes in the 
 Wood, a fad and fimple hiftory that fo mightily 
 touches the affections of children. 
 
 ' Thefe pretty babes, with hand in hand, 
 
 Went wandering up and downe, 
 But never more could fee the man 
 
 Approaching from the towne. 
 
 ' Their prettye lippes with blackberries 
 
 Were all befmear'd and dyed, 
 And when they faw the darkfome night 
 
 They fat them downe and cryed. 
 
 ' Thus wandered thefe two little babes 
 
 Till death did end their grief, 
 In one another's arms they dyed 
 
 As babes wanting reliefe. 
 
 ' No burial this pretty pair 
 Of any man receives, 
 
 '57
 
 158 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Till Robin red-breaft painfully 
 Did cover them with leaves.'* 
 
 Stop, dear brother ; for I would not have you 
 to mar thofe paflages you have now cited out of 
 Mr. Walton by fome that are worfe. 
 
 Angler. Liften to one more, and I have done. 
 4 But the nightingale, another of my airy crea- 
 4 tures, breathes fuch fweet loud mufic out of 
 4 her little instrumental throat, that it might 
 4 make mankind to think miracles are not 
 ' ceafed. He that at midnight, when the very 
 ' labourer fleeps fecurely, mould hear, as I have 
 4 very often, the clear airs, the fweet defcants, 
 4 the natural rifing and falling, the doubling and 
 4 redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted 
 4 above earth, and fay, Lord, what mufic haft 
 4 thou provided for the faints in heaven, when 
 4 thou afforded bad men fuch mufic on earth !' 
 
 Painter. I now remember that defcription : 
 it is beyond my praife ; it is all mufic together, 
 and I declare to you, I know not which I am 
 moft in love with the fong of the nightingale, 
 
 * The original of this ballad is to be found in ' A 
 ' handfull of Pleafant Delites,'' contayning fundrie new 
 Sonets and dele6lable Hiftories in divers kinds of meters, 
 newly devifed to the neweft tunes. At London, 1584. 
 Printed by Richard Jhones, dwelling at the fign of the 
 Rofe and Crown, near Holbourne Bridge. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 or the meek penman who hath fet that fong to 
 fuch mufic. 
 
 Angler. I told you the writings of Mr. Wal- 
 ton have a power to unlock the affedtions ; 
 and I am fo bold as to aflure you, that many 
 men I could name, who mocked at timers and 
 riming, before they had perufed the COMPLETE 
 ANGLER, have been moved to pradlife his art 
 by the perfuafive arguments they have found 
 in it. 
 
 Painter. That I can believe, and for my 
 part I am almoft brought to wifh myfelf a Fal- 
 coner by thefe teftimonies which AUCEPS hath 
 adduced to the praife of his c noble, generous 
 * hawks, and thofe little nimble muficians of 
 ' the air.' 
 
 Angler. Stay a while, till I bring before you 
 what the merry huntfman had to fay for his 
 recreation ; and after that the commendations 
 Mr. Walton beftows on the greater excellency 
 of his own happy art of angling. But now I 
 perceive you have made an outline of this land- 
 fkip, fo let us go down to the lower ftreams of 
 the river, where I have fomething better to 
 mow you. 
 
 Painter. I am not willing to doubt any thing 
 you fay : but what can you find more full of 
 beauty than thefe landfkips hereabouts ? 
 
 '59
 
 i6o 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Of that I fhall give you leave to 
 judge when I have brought you to a fpot will 
 enchant you ; and there you may be fure to 
 catch a good fifti. 
 
 Painter. Well then, let us be doing ; and 
 now I think it is time to repair to my angle, 
 that I left in the water to fifh for itfelf. 
 
 Angler. There it is, and fo take it up. 
 
 Painter. How now ! my worm and hook 
 both gone ! Look you ! and it may be I have 
 loft a good trout, whilft I was charmed with 
 thofe fong-birds, that fung fo fweetly out of Mr. 
 Walton's aviary. 
 
 Angler. Never mind, you fhall prefently 
 4 try a fair with another ; and pray take notice, 
 that trout was not loft, for quiet Mr. Walton 
 fays, 4 no man can lofe what he never had.' 
 Ah ! ha ! faw you that fifh ? he rofe juft 
 above yonder great ftone on the other fide. If 
 I have any luck, I fhall land him prefently. 
 
 Painter. You have caft your fly in the very 
 fpot ; and there ! look there he is again. 
 
 Angler. I have him faft. 
 
 Painter. See what a fummerfault he made ! 
 
 Angler. He mould be a trout from his nim- 
 blenefs, and a plumper too. 
 
 Painter. I befeech you handle him like an 
 artift here is the net and all ready haul him in.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Not fo faft not fo faft, brother 
 let him have his time. 
 
 Painter. There again ! faw you that leap he 
 gave ? By my word you have the right knack. 
 
 Angler. Now you obferve he has a running 
 line and now I may bring him up again fo, 
 fo he has done his worft now fetch the net ; 
 but if you love me, manage him with a prudent 
 hand ; fo, you performed it handfomely ; and a 
 fine fifti he is : come, let us go down to PIKE 
 POOL. I know not how it may fare with you ; 
 but methinks it fhould be near to dinner- 
 time. 
 
 Painter. In plain truth I am well difpofed to 
 play my part at that. 
 
 Angler. Away then by this bank, where the 
 ftream becomes broader. See how it hurries by 
 that bed of rock with a loud murmuring. 
 
 Painter. How now ! there is a rock in the 
 river like a church fteeple, and forty feet 
 high! 
 
 Angler. That is the PIKE POOL you have 
 heard of. 
 
 Painter. Say you fo ? what a fpot of folitude 
 is here ! 
 
 Angler. Now tell me is not this a charming 
 nook for a reclufe angler ? But here we muft 
 make our paflage once more into Staffordfhire,
 
 162 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 by thefe cobble ftones, that we may come to 
 the margin of the POOL ; for you fee we are 
 Hopped on this fide by the rocks. 
 
 Painter. I am willing to follow you. 
 
 Angler. Look well to your footing, and give 
 me the wallet ; for I fear you will let that drop 
 into the water, and now your hand fo 
 
 Painter. We are well over ; and of all 
 places I have feen, this is furpafling in beauty. 
 Surely it is a rocky dell, that is worthy of a 
 poet's praife : now if Petrarch had fung of his 
 Laura by thefe rocks, they would be thought 
 as fine as Vauclufe ; and this ftream as bright 
 and nimble as the Sorga itfelf, which I was 
 once happy enough to vifit as I pafled by Avig- 
 non towards Italy : and was permitted the lei- 
 fure to fketch fome imperfect limnings of the 
 rtrangely fhaped and rugged rocks, from which 
 the myfterious fount of the river gufhes into 
 daylight. It is true I may not boaft to have 
 caught my brace of trouts in its limpid ftreams ; 
 but I tafted fome ildlfully dreft by the civil hof- 
 tefs of the village inn that is called after the 
 name of the Poet. Oh Sir, if you had there 
 been the companion of my prolonged wander- 
 ings, with what delight fhould we have perufed 
 together thofe unimitable poems of Petrarch ! 
 And do you recoiled} how he fays,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 163 
 
 ' I/acque parlan d'amore, e Taura e i rami 
 ' E gli augeletti, e i pefci, e i fiori, e Terba, 
 ' Tutti infieme pregando ch'io fempr'ami.' 
 
 Angler. I remember the lines. And be it 
 known to you, Petrarcha was himfelf a brother 
 of the angle. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Sir, your authority for this ? 
 I grant you, the impaflioned poet might grave 
 the name of his Laura on the hard rocks, or 
 picture to his imagination her beautiful image 
 reflected in the deep clear caverns of the river ; 
 
 4 Or in forma di Ninfa or d'altra Diva 
 ' Che dal piu chiaro fondo di Sorga efca 
 ' E pongafi a federe in fu la riva : ' 
 
 but I cannot be perfuaded to believe that fo 
 hopelefs a lover could be a happy angler. He 
 that was the moft learned of his age, and Poet 
 Laureat crowned with the triple garland at 
 Rome, an angler ! 
 
 Angler. Happy or unhappy learned or un- 
 learned I may tell you he was a fifher ; and 
 be thefe lines my witnefs, which you may find 
 in his latin works ; 
 
 ' Retia mine funt arma mihi, et labyrinthius error 
 
 ' Viminea contextus acu ; qui pervius undis 
 
 ' Pifcibus eft career, nulla remeabilis arte : 
 
 ' Pro gladiis curves hamos, fallacibus efcis 
 
 ' Implicitos, tremulafque fudes, parvumque tridentem
 
 164 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 PISCATOR modo fa6his ego, quo terga natantum 
 Siftere jam didici, duroque affigere faxo. 
 Primitias en flumineae tranfmittimus artis 
 Et verfus quot Claufa domos habet arftaque Vallis, 
 Qjise tibi pifciculos et ruftica carmina pafcit.'* 
 
 Painter. Marry, Sir, after thofe harmonious 
 verfes that you have fo fixedly treafured up in 
 your memory it is undeniable you may have 
 the honour to claim Petrarcha for one of your 
 fraternity. 
 
 Angler. And what was more natural than 
 he fhould feek an inward confolation for his 
 difeafed thoughts in fo quiet and fweet a re- 
 creation ; and on the banks of his loved river 
 indulge his thoughts with thofe 'Vifions' of 
 the departed Laura, which Matter Edmund 
 Spenferf hath rendered from the Italian into 
 harmonious Englifh verfe : 
 
 Within this wood, out of a rocke did rife 
 A fpring of water, mildly rumbling downe, 
 Whereto approached not in anie wife 
 The homely mepheard, nor the ruder clowne ; 
 But many Mufes, and the Nymphes withall, 
 That fweetly in accord did tune their voyce 
 
 * Lib. III. Epift. 3. 
 
 f The Vifions of Petrarch, 'formerly tranjlated* by 
 Edmund Spenfer, at the age of 14: originally printed 
 in a book of fome rarity, ' The Theatre of JOHN VAN- 
 ' DER NOODT.' 8 1569. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' To the foft founding of the waters fall ; 
 
 ' That my glad hart thereat did much rejoyce. 
 
 * But while herein I tooke my chiefe delight, 
 
 ' I faw (alas) the gaping earth devoure 
 
 ' The fpring, the place, and all cleane out of fight ; 
 
 ' Which yet aggrieves my hart even to this houre, 
 ' And wounds my foule with rufull memorie, 
 ' To fee fuch pleafures gon fo fuddenly.' 
 
 But now look around, and tell me, you that 
 have feen famed VAUCLUSE, if this dell be not 
 more woody and umbrageous than the banks 
 of the Sorga ; and look at the doublings and 
 wrenches of the ftream, which make it the moft 
 fingular place that can be imagined for natural 
 beauties ; and let me tell you, they have been 
 defigned by Mr. Ifaac Walton, junior, the fon 
 of our mafter of angling. 
 
 Painter. How ! has Mr. Walton a fon, and 
 a limner too ? 
 
 Angler. You may take Mr. Cotton's word 
 for that. 
 
 Painter. Then I mail be inclined to love 
 him for more reafons than one. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, you muft know, Pis- 
 CATOR and VIATOR having fifhed the c ftream 
 4 by inches,' came lower down, and then fud- 
 denly VIATOR exclaimed, c But what have we 
 ' got here ? a rock fpringing up in the middle 
 4 of the river ! This is one of the oddeft fights
 
 1 66 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' that ever I fan;.' To this PISCATOR replied, 
 c Why, Sir, from that Pike that you fee ftand- 
 c ing up there, dijiant from the rock, that is 
 ' called Pike Pool, and young Mr. Ifaac Walton 
 4 was fo plea fed with it, as to draw it in land- 
 ' Jkip, in black and white, in a blank book I have 
 ' at home, as he has done feveral profpefts of my 
 ' houfe alfo, which I keep for a memorial of his 
 'favour.' 
 
 Painter. A book full of landfkips did you 
 fay ! in black and white, and all done by the 
 hand of Mr. Izaak Walton, junior ? that were 
 indeed a treafure to poflefs ! But come ; let 
 us repofe ourfelves along thefe fhady banks that 
 Mr. Walton, and his fon, and Mr. Cotton all 
 loved, and that deferve to be loved by every 
 honeft angler. See thefe wild flowers, which 
 fpring around, and make a foft cufhion for us ; 
 here is the wild thyme, the Nottingham catch- 
 fly, and coltsfoot, and violets 
 
 Angler. And what is no lefs germaine to 
 the prefent argument, a handfome repaft ! 
 So let us fall to't. Here is an excellent cake, 
 and fome hang'd martinmas beef; with a mea- 
 fure or two of mine Hoft's good ale. Are you 
 prepared ? 
 
 Painter. I may warrant you, and no wife 
 dainty after our long walk.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 167 
 
 Angler. O that we could now poflefs our 
 dear accomplifh'd Civilian, that hath more learn- 
 ing than both you and I together ! 
 
 Painter. Aye; if he were here reclining with 
 us by the fide of PIKE POOL, our entertainment 
 would be complete : and let us not defpair to 
 inveigle him hither next month of May. 
 
 Angler. Well, I have known ftranger things 
 come to pafs ; and now, if you pleafe, we'll 
 drink his health in a loving cup of barley wine. 
 
 Painter. A worthy toaft ! fill to the brim ! 
 
 Angler. To the brim. 
 
 Both. Here is a health to our polite Mr. 
 
 ST. 0. 
 
 Angler. A true lover of honeft Izaak ; and 
 to hear him defcant on the gentle craft, you 
 might declare him to be a pra&ifed difciple. 
 
 Painter. Then what fay you to his books 
 of emblems and engraved pictures of angling ? 
 and do not forget that ebony cabinet in his 
 chambers in Lincoln's Inn, furniftied with all 
 ancient treatifes of your art, and other merry 
 fports and paftimes of England. 
 
 Angler. Aye ; and I love him the more for 
 his love of my mafters : and though he hath 
 never wetted a line, nor foiled his hofen in 
 purfuit of the finny tribes, yet in imagination
 
 i68 
 
 The 'River Dove. 
 
 he hath done both one and the other : and is no 
 lefs verfed in the philofophy of angling than 
 learned in Lord Coke's Inftitutes, and the Law 
 of Nations. 
 
 Angler. I wifh him all health ; and may he 
 ever poflefs Sir Chriftopher Hatton's moderate 
 defires, and be able to fing, 
 
 ' I weigh not fortune's frowne nor fmile, 
 ' I joye not much in worldly joyes ; 
 
 ' I feek not ftate, I reake not ftyle, 
 ' I am not fond of fancie's toyes ! 
 
 ' I reft fo pleafed with what I have, 
 
 ' I wifh no more, no more I crave.' 
 
 Painter. So fay I. And now remember 
 your promife, and give me the huntfman's ar- 
 guments in praife of his paftime of hunting, 
 when he was in the company of Mr. Walton 
 and the Falconer, all the while they walked to 
 Hodfden. 
 
 Angler. Moft willingly ; and you are to know, 
 when Mr. Falconer broke off his difcourfe, and 
 entreated VENATOR to fay his beft in praife of 
 the chafe, that honeft candid huntfman began 
 with a commendation of the earth, being that 
 element upon which he drives his ' pleafant 
 ' wholefome hungry trade ; ' and then declared, 
 that c hunting is a game for princes and noble 
 ' perfons ; it hath been highly prized in all
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 169 
 
 ' ages ; it was one of the qualifications that 
 ' Xenophon beftowed on his Cyrus, that he 
 1 was a hunter of wild beafts. Hunting trains 
 4 up the younger nobility to the ufe of manly 
 ' exercifes in their riper age. What more manly 
 4 exercife than hunting the wild boar, the ftag, 
 4 the buck, the fox, or the hare ? How doth 
 4 it preferve health, and increafe ftrength and 
 1 activity ? ' 
 
 Painter. Wellfaid, Mr. Huntfman; pr'ythee 
 proceed. 
 
 Angler. 4 And for the dogs that we ufe, who 
 4 can commend their excellency to that height 
 4 which they deferve ? How perfect is the 
 c hound at fmelling, who never leaves or for- 
 t fakes his firft fcent, but follows it through fo 
 1 many changes and varieties of other fcents, 
 4 even over and in the water, and into the 
 c earth ! What mufic doth a pack of dogs then 
 4 make to any man, whofe heart and ears are fo 
 c happy as to be fet to the tune of fuch inftru- 
 4 ments ! How will a right greyhound fix his 
 4 eye on the beft buck in the herd, fingle him 
 4 out, and follow him, and him only, through a 
 4 whole herd of rafcal game, and ftill know, and 
 4 then kill him ! For my hounds, I know the 
 4 language of them, and they know the language 
 4 and meaning of one another as perfectly as we
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 know the voices of thofe with whom we dif- 
 4 courfe daily.' 
 
 Painter. Aye, I warrant you, PISCATOR had 
 need of all his eloquence to overcome thefe 
 winning arguments in favour of the noble fport 
 of hunting. And what more did VENATOR 
 fay? 
 
 jfngler. At length he gently excufed himfelf 
 from enlarging his difcourfe, and faid, 4 I will 
 4 not be fo uncivil to Mr. PISCATOR, as not to 
 4 allow him time for the commendation of an- 
 ' gling, which he calls an art, but doubtlefs it is 
 ' an eafy one ; and, Mr. AUCEPS, I doubt we 
 ' (hall hear a watery difcourfe of it ; but I hope 
 4 it will not be a long one.' 
 
 Painter. And how did PISCATOR reply to 
 this pleafant jefting ? 
 
 Angler. He received it as a well-bred angler 
 would do, and thus replied : ' Gentlemen, let 
 4 not prejudice prepofTefs you.' Do you obferve 
 how enured Mr. Walton is to meeknefs and 
 patience ? And you (hall fee, by-and-by, that 
 he was able to bring forward a flore of argu- 
 ments and examples to prove the greater excel- 
 lence of his art of angling. But firft, I am 
 
 for another cup of ale. And here's a health to 
 Mr. Walton and his fon, and Mr. Cotton, his 
 adopted fon, that have often fat where we now
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 fit, and I have no doubt with hearts as thankful 
 as I hope ours to be. 
 
 Painter. I drink to all three. 
 
 Angler. And here's a good wifh for a fouth 
 wind, that Mr. Thomas Barker fays, 4 blows 
 4 the fly in the trout's mouth,'* and good fport 
 to all anglers. 
 
 Painter. To fuch of them as be honeft 
 men. 
 
 Angler. Let me tell you, all true brothers of 
 the angle are honeft men. 
 
 Painter. Agreed, agreed. So here's a fouth 
 wind to all anglers. And now, whilft you en- 
 tertain me with PISCATOR'S difcourfe, fo fuitable 
 to this occafion, I will defign that rock and the 
 
 * And fo thought Mr. Charles Cotton ; as witnefs 
 thefe lines : 
 
 ' To my dear and moft worthy friend, Mr. Izaak 
 
 Walton. 
 ' A day without too bright a beam, 
 
 ' A warm, but not a fcorching fun, 
 ' A.fouthern gale to curl the ftream, 
 ' And, matter, half our 'work is done. 
 
 ' There, whilft behind fome bufti we wait, 
 
 ' The fcaly people to betray, 
 ' We'll prove it juft with treacherous bait 
 
 ' To make the preying trout our prey.' 
 
 POEMS on SEVERAL OCCASIONS, p. 115 ED.
 
 172 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 pool, and thefe umbrageous trees, which give 
 us their flicker from the fun. 
 
 Angler. I thank you, and fhall efteem it as 
 highly as the landfkips of Mr. Walton junior, 
 that lately returned from his travels to Rome, 
 in company with his kinfman, pious Mr. Tho- 
 mas Ken, Fellow of St. Mary Winton College, 
 in Winchefter. 
 
 Painter. How ! did you fay with Mr. Ken ? 
 he that is chaplain to Dr. Morley, the felf-de- 
 nying Bifhop of Winton, who maintains the pri- 
 mitive doctrine and difcipline, and has reftored 
 the daily fervice in his Churches ? 
 
 Angler. Thefame ; and follows the Bifhop's 
 example of an afcetic life even in the midft of 
 this luxurious age : and has lately writ c A 
 c Manual of Prayers and Devotions for the ttfe 
 c of the Schollars of Winch eft er School^* where 
 he himfelf was trained to learning and good 
 manners. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! a book that moft lovingly 
 perfuades young chriflians to dedicate their ten- 
 der age to the fervice of God. 
 
 Angler. And I can never forget a difcourfe I 
 once heard him preach to the poor in St. John's 
 Church, in the Soke near Winchefter, wherein 
 
 * The firft edition was printed, 1674, for J. Martyn.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 he exhorted them to the duties and privileges of 
 holinefs, and with fuch a fweet and melting elo- 
 quence that when he told them of Chrift's 
 whole life of fuffering for their fakes, he drew 
 tears from many eyes. 
 
 Painter. But how did it come to pafs that he 
 fhould travel with Mr. Walton junior ? 
 
 dngler. Becaufe of his affection for old Ifaak, 
 who had been his early counfellor and guide, 
 when he was left an orphan : for Mr. Walton 
 had married his fifter, Miftrefs Ann Ken, 4 a 
 4 woman of remarkable prudence, and of the 
 ' primitive piety :' but (he is now at reft, and 
 4 lyeth buried, fo much as could dye,' in the 
 bleffed Virgin Mary's Chapel in the Cathedral 
 in Worcefter. 
 
 Painter. Well : he could not make a more 
 grateful return for the father's love, than to 
 take upon him the part of Mentor to the fon in 
 his foreign travels : but come, I remember me 
 how the Hoft faid, Mr. Walton had good luck 
 in this pool, and I defire to follow his example, 
 and wheedle a big trout for our fupper. 
 
 Angler. And fo you {hall ; and becaufe you 
 have loft your hook, I'll fhow you how to fix 
 another. 
 
 Painter. Grazie^ Pefcatore mio. 
 
 Angler. Let me find a hook with two horfe
 
 '74 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 hairs twifted together : here it is, and you may 
 fee a loop at the end. Now mark, put the loop 
 of the fifh-line through this loop of the hook, 
 and then bring the hook through the loop in the 
 fifh-line, and draw them tight together fb 
 and here is a frefh brandling, and now you are 
 fitted. 
 
 Painter. O' my word, 'tis neatly done ; fo, 
 I have laid my rod. Come, Sir, begin : How 
 pleafant this is ! 
 
 Where in a brook 
 
 With a hook, 
 
 Or a lake 
 
 Fifti we take, 
 
 There we fit 
 
 For a bit 
 Till we fifh entangle. 
 
 None do here 
 
 Ufe to fwear ; 
 
 Oaths do fray, 
 
 Fifli away. 
 
 We fit ftill 
 
 And watch our quill, 
 Fifhers muft not wrangle. 
 
 But let us have the angler's grave, watery ar- 
 guments : I am inquifitive to hear what he will 
 make againft the Hunter. 
 
 Angler. Not fo grave, I promife you ; but 
 full of empaflioned eloquence and no lefs inge- 
 nuity. Thus then he began, c Gentlemen, let
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 not prejudice prepoflefs you. I confefs my 
 1 difcourfe is like to prove fuitable to my recrea- 
 4 tion, calm and quiet ; we feldom take the 
 4 name of God into our mouths, but it is either 
 4 to praife him or pray to him ; if others ufe it 
 4 vainly in the midft of their recreations, fo 
 4 vainly as if they meant to conjure, I muft tell 
 4 you it is neither our fault nor our cuftom ; 
 4 we proteft againft it. But, pray remember, 
 4 I accufe nobody ; for as I would not make a 
 4 watery difcourfe, fo I would not put too much 
 4 vinegar into it ; nor would I raife the reputa- 
 4 tion of my own art, by the diminution or ruin 
 4 of another's. And fo much for the prologue 
 4 to what I mean to fay.' After that, with ar- 
 guments excellently contrived, he praifed his 
 own loved element and occupation, and ufed 
 every allowable artifice to fhow how they are 
 more excellent than all others. I could now 
 open to you many paffages of his difcourfe, that 
 have all the natural fragrancy of wild flowers 
 fcattered with a carelefs hand ; and whilft he 
 fets forth the beauty of the works of God, you 
 may be lifted to praife the Maker of them for 
 that moft wonderful attribute His loveto man. 
 Indeed, he applied himfelf with fo great a zeal 
 to the commendation of angling, and heightened 
 his difcourfe by fo many harmonious digreflions
 
 176 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 and teftimonies to the pleafure and high efteem 
 thereof, that, when they arrived at Theobald's 
 Park, whither the Falconer was proceeding to a 
 friend's houfe, who mewed a hawk for him, he 
 declared to PISCATOR, c I now part with you 
 c full of good thoughts, not only of yourfelf, but 
 ' of your recreation.' And yet, let me tell you, 
 he did but a fhort-time before profefs to pity 
 anglers, ' becaufe of their heavy contemptible 
 ' dull recreation.' 
 
 Painter. And after the Falconer was gone, 
 did VENATOR exprefs any civil difpofition to- 
 wards anglers ? 
 
 Angler. Aye ; for you have feen how his 
 purpofe was to hunt the Otter at Hodfden, that 
 was three miles further ; and fo he continued 
 his walk with Mr. Walton, who all the while 
 purfued his difcourfe of rimes and fiihing. 
 
 Painter. Indeed! then his difcourfe was three 
 miles long ! All the while, fay you, till they 
 came to Hodfden ? 
 
 Angler. And not only fo ; but without any 
 averfenefs in Mr. VENATOR. 
 
 Painter. Then, I cannot but confider him 
 the meekeft and moft polite man in the world, 
 to liften with a cheerful willingnefs to fo long 
 a commendation of an art that he had c heard 
 ' many merry huntfmen make fport and feoff at.'
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Be not fo confident ; flay a little, 
 and I fhall make you confefs that Mr. Walton 
 adorned his arguments with fuch a matchlefs 
 commixture of learning and eloquence, as made 
 his praife of angling like fweet mufic even to 
 the huntfman's ear ; for when they were left 
 together, after the Falconer was gone to his 
 friend's houfe, Mr. Walton invited his com- 
 panion to enlarge his difcourfe on hunting, and 
 promifed he mould ' neither want time nor his 
 4 attention to hear it.' But this the other gently 
 declined, becaufe he was kindled with a defire to 
 hear how Mr. Walton could perfuade him that 
 angling was l of great antiquity, and a perfect: 
 4 art, and an art not eafily attained to ; ' the 
 which if he could do, he promifed to 4 attend 
 c him a day or two a-fifhing, and become his 
 c fcholar.' Whereupon Mr. Walton was charm- 
 ed with the hope of the Huntfman's converfion; 
 and he did, by obvious arguments, poffefs his 
 mind with the fame high and happy thoughts 
 as himfelf had the enjoyment of; for he con- 
 vinced him how it was an excellent and a plea- 
 fant art c to deceive a trout, that is more fharp- 
 ' fighted than any hawk,' and how ' the man 
 ' that hopes to be a good angler muft not only 
 ' bring an inquiring, fearching, obferving wit, 
 c but he muft bring a large meafure of hope and 
 
 A A
 
 178 
 
 T*he River Dove. 
 
 ' patience, and a love and a propenfity to the 
 1 art itfelf.' 
 
 Painter. And thus Mr. Walton, by an allur- 
 ing fuavity, perfuaded the Huntfman that angling 
 was near a-kin to wifdom, c all her ways plea- 
 4 fantnefS) and her paths peace !' * 
 
 Angler. Doubtlefs, and I would have you 
 underftand that Mr. Walton, who is a known 
 lover of truth, here declares that he has difco- 
 vered, by a practical acquaintance with his art, 
 4 the very fitting by the river's fide is not only 
 4 the quieteft and fitteft place for contemplation, 
 ' but will invite an angler to it ; and fettle his 
 4 mind in a quiet repofe, and there make him 
 4 fit for revelation.' Then, after many more 
 examples to the lawfulnefs and high efteem of 
 angling, he declares, that c whofoever fhall view 
 4 the ancient ecclefiaftical canons, fhall find 
 4 hunting to be forbidden to Churchmen, as 
 4 being a turbulent, toilfome, perplexing recrea- 
 4 tion ; and fhall find angling allowed, as being 
 4 a harmlefs recreation that invites them to con- 
 4 templation and quietnefs.' 
 
 Painter. This methinks is fuitable ; for fo 
 pious minifters may forth into the meadows, 
 and there fit and angle in a retirement, and 
 
 * Prov. iii. IT.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 unbend their minds from too clofe ftudy ; and, 
 moreover give glory to God, when they fee 
 the rocks and waters that He hath formed, and 
 the v/hole earth fpangled with flowers or other 
 ornaments, for the fervice and delight of man- 
 kind. 
 
 Angler. And I believe that every hour of 
 innocent freedom from the cold-hearted hu- 
 mours of the world, and every fecret inftindt of 
 reverence and affection towards God is a ftep 
 forward in our path to the unfeen glories of 
 His prefence. 4 And it is only while we are 
 4 ftill that we are like a tranquil water reflecting 
 
 4 Heaven.' Thus, VENATOR became more 
 
 and more charmed into an attention, until Mr. 
 Walton brought him to the perfuafion that 
 angling was 4 an employment full of various 
 ' pleafures and events ; ' and after that declared, 
 how 4 learned William Perkins, Dr. Whitaker, 
 4 and Dr. Nowel, fometime Dean of the Ca- 
 ' thedral Church of St. Paul, in London, fb 
 ' noted for his meek fpirit, deep learning, pru- 
 c dence, and piety, were dear lovers and con- 
 4 ftant pradlifers of angling.' 
 
 Painter. I dare not deny the commendations 
 Mr. Walton beftows on timing, if peaceful Dr. 
 Nowel gave his authority to the enjoyment of 
 it; for he was a moft excellent example of 
 
 179
 
 i8o 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ancient fimplicity and holinefs ; and who can 
 tell the deep fearchings of his fpirit into the 
 truths revealed in the facred fcripture ! as wit- 
 nefs his Church Catechifm, and the part he 
 took in drawing up the Articles of our Faith, 
 which mall be the guiding ftar of happy Eng- 
 land amidft the rocks, and (helves, and quick- 
 fands, and cloudy ftorms of ages yet to come. 
 
 Angler. Alas ! I have a fad forecafting of 
 times, when the Church (and through her fide 
 the Commonwealth of England) fhall be again 
 afTailed by wearifome cenfurers, the declared 
 enemies of her polity and miniftrations, and 
 yet more of her endowments. 
 
 Painter. Be not vexed with thefe unquiet 
 thoughts : God hath His flock in His own 
 keeping : unlefs through fome decay of piety 
 in our Bifhops and Minifters of religion, by 
 their neglecting of the facraments, the daily 
 church fervices, the Fafts and Feftivals, and 
 primitive rules of difcipline, He mould again 
 be angered againft the fhepherds, and let the 
 wolves into the fold. 
 
 Angler. Alas ! for that day, if ever they 
 mould difparage and flur thofe miniftrations, 
 which are their divine commiflion to the end of 
 time, and their bulwark ! for then would the 
 love and reverence of men be again changed
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 into an averfenefs, and ill-fpeakers of church- 
 government provoke difunion, fo as the very 
 vail of the temple fhould be rent in twain. 
 
 But to return to the example of pious 
 
 Dean Nowel, I may tell you, this moft wife 
 man was 4 a dear lover and conftant pra&ifer 
 1 of angling as any age can produce ; and his 
 4 cuftom was to fpend, befides his fixed hours 
 1 of prayer, a tenth part of his time in angling, 
 4 and alfo of his revenue, and ufually all his 
 * fim, amongft the poor, that inhabited near to 
 c thofe rivers in which it was caught, faying 
 4 often, "that charity gave life to religion;" 
 4 and at his return to his houfe he would praife 
 4 God, he had fpent that day free from worldly 
 4 trouble ; both harmlefsly and in a recreation 
 4 that became a churchman.' And more I have 
 to fay ; for you will not deny to Sir Henry 
 Wotton your partial opinion and praife. 
 
 Painter. That I will not, becaufe I know 
 he was a man of notable qualities ; and one 
 that was a lover of excellent artificers in limn- 
 ing and fculpture, and willingly afforded his ear 
 and his purfe to every poor man that was fo 
 happy as to gain accefs to him. 
 
 Angler. Then I have but this more to fay, 
 namely, how Mr. Walton declares, that 4 Sir 
 4 Henry Wotton, whofe experience, learning, 
 
 181
 
 l82 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 1 wit, and cheerfulnefs, made him one of the 
 4 delights of mankind, was alfo a dear lover and 
 c frequent praclifer of the art of angling, of 
 4 which he would fay, " 'Twas an employment 
 " for his idle time, which was not then idly 
 " fpent : for angling was, after a tedious ftudy, 
 " a reft to his mind, a cheerer of his fpirits, 
 44 a diverter of fadnefs, a calmer of unquiet 
 44 thoughts, a moderator of paflions, a procurer 
 " of contentednefs.'" 
 
 Painter. Sir, you could not more certainly 
 move me to favourable thoughts of angling, 
 than by perfuading me to believe that Sir Henry 
 Wotton had a love for this paftime. 
 
 Angler. I am glad to hear you fay fo ; and 
 now, after this long digreflion, I intend only to 
 tell you, that thofe irrefiftible arguments where- 
 with Mr. Walton adorned his difcourfe, brought 
 the Huntfman and himfelf to Hodfden, that 
 was the end of their journey. And then Mr. 
 Walton faid, 4 I am glad your patience hath held 
 c out fo long, for my difcourfe hath brought 
 4 us within fight of the Thatched Houfe.' 
 
 To this the other replied : 4 Sir, you have 
 4 angled me on with much pleafure to the 
 4 Thatched Houfe, and I now find your words 
 4 true j that good company makes the way feem 
 4 fhort ; for, truft me, Sir, I thought we had
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 I wanted three miles of this houfe, till you fhowed 
 ' it to me. But now we are at it, we'll turn 
 4 into it, and refrem ourfelves with a cup of 
 * drink and a little reft.' 
 
 4 Moft gladly, Sir,' replied PISCATOR, 4 and 
 c we'll drink a civil cup to all the Otter-hunters 
 4 that we are to meet to-morrow.' Then VE- 
 NATOR anfwered him, 4 That we will, Sir, and 
 4 to all the lovers of angling too j of which 
 c number I am now willing to be one myfelf ; 
 4 for by the help of your difcourfe and company 
 
 I 1 have put on new thoughts, both of the art 
 c of angling and of all that profefs it : and if you 
 1 will but meet me to-morrow at the time and 
 4 place appointed, and beftow one day with me 
 4 and my friends on hunting the Otter, I will 
 1 dedicate the next two days to wait on you, 
 1 and we two will for that time do nothing but 
 4 angle, and talk of fifh and riming. ' Then 
 PISCATOR cheerfully took him at his word, and 
 faid : 4 'Tis a match, Sir ; I'll not fail you, 
 4 (God willing,) to be at Amwell Hill to-mor- 
 4 row morning before fun rifing.' 
 
 Painter. A more fweet and loving difcourfe 
 I have not heard. I declare to you I am moved 
 by a fenfible charm to liften to thefe ingenuous 
 ftrangers, as they enliven each other by an 
 accidental dialogue on angling. 
 
 83
 
 184 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. And who would not defire that he 
 might fpend a fine frem morning once a year at 
 leaft in Mr. Walton's company, and hear him 
 allege his plaufible arguments to teach men to 
 be peaceful anglers ? And if I might perfuade 
 you to read all he fays in praife of his art, you 
 would find fuch a harmony and fo many fuit- 
 able colours in the compofition of his book, that 
 you might declare it to be a picture defigned 
 with all the graces of Titian, and the fweetnefs 
 of Correggio. 
 
 Painter. Well, brother, this I will declare, 
 that I am like the gentleman Falconer, and be- 
 gin to love both Mr. Walton and his art ; nay, 
 I have liftened with a fecret pleafure to his 
 converfation, and hope to hear what entertain- 
 ment his friend the huntfman provided for him, 
 when they two met at Amwell to hunt the 
 Otter. 
 
 Angler. That you mail hear by and by, but 
 firft let me fee your fketch of Pike Pool. 
 
 Painter. There it is, and the beft I can 
 make it. 
 
 Angler. It is indeed a fkilful picture : all of 
 a juft and natural proportion : and now, becaufe 
 you have had fo much civility and patience, I 
 will make you fome requital, and go a-fiming 
 with you for an hour ; but look, you have a
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 nibble ; for your quill is out of fight. 
 
 Painter. And fo it is ! now I hope to find 
 a good trout to my hook how fhall I play 
 with him ? 
 
 Angler. Take up your rod, and try if it be 
 a little one or a big one. 
 
 Painter. It is but ' a diminutive gentleman.' 
 
 Angler. Then throw him in again, and put 
 on another worm : there, you have a fecond ! 
 
 Painter. Now ! I warrant this is a mettle- 
 fbme fim. 
 
 Angler. Then anfvver him conformably. 
 
 Painter. Ah ! I am but an ignoramus , with 
 all my pride ; neverthelefs I hope I (hall not 
 lofe him, for he will be worth his weight in 
 gold, only becaufe I took him in this very fpot; 
 and if I catch him, I'll draw his likenefs in co- 
 lours at my leifure. He goes away at a dafh 
 I fear my tackling will not hold out. 
 
 Angler. I am a hoftage for the line, if you 
 will practice him pliantly but do not jerk him. 
 
 Painter. I befeech you take the rod and mow 
 me. 
 
 Angler. Well then you muft cherifli him 
 a bit thus and now ftraighten him by degrees 
 drawing in your line. 
 
 Painter. See how he doubles back. 
 
 Angler. Ay : but I have him in hand fo 
 
 B B
 
 i86 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 now do you take the rod again, and puzzle 
 him, and give me the net it is well done 
 this way with him I have the Hetor, and I 
 declare to you it is the largeft fifh we have 
 taken to-day. 
 
 Painter. Oh, brother, I am quite in love 
 with this paftime of angling it is the plea- 
 fanteft thing in the world and I profefs my- 
 felf from henceforth a willing difciple of Mr. 
 Walton. 
 
 Angler. Indeed ! I am charmed to hear you 
 make this honeft declaration j and I may tell 
 you, for your encouragement, that you are like 
 to prove a handy craftfman, fo let us go lower 
 down to the frefh ftreams. 
 
 Painter. I have almoft had enough : and I 
 cannot hope to be pleafed with any place after 
 this woody dell. I have never feen the like for 
 a retirement. 
 
 Angler. Well, as you pleafe : but what is 
 yonder above our heads, which is overfhadowed 
 by the afh trees ? methinks it looks like a hole 
 in the rock. 
 
 Painter. I believe it is, and if you are fo in- 
 clined, let us fcramble up and look into it : per- 
 chance we (hall make a difcovery. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart ; lead on : but 
 have a care, for it is a fcraggy place, and you
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 may hap to come down again heels over head. 
 
 Painter. Look to yourfelf ; a Carolus to a 
 groat that I'm there firft. 
 
 dngler. Say you fo ? then pr'ythee let your 
 footing keep pace with your words, for I am 
 after you. 
 
 Painter. Heigho ! flop there, I have 
 flipped up ; befeech you give me a hand. 
 
 Angler. Ha, ha ! Signer, whofe fomerfault 
 was that ? try again : but fee, I am up firft, 
 and what a concealed cavern is here, c covered 
 c over with rude grown briers,'* and big enough 
 for a man to ftand upright in, if he defired a 
 flielter.f 
 
 * Titus Andron. Aft. z. Sc. 4. 
 
 f Sir John Hawkins, in his life of Cotton, ftates that 
 ' a natural excavation in the rocky Hill on which Be- 
 ' resford Hall ftands, is fliewn as Mr. Cotton's occa- 
 < fional refuge from his creditors : ' and to this Cotton 
 himfelf probably alludes in the following lines of his 
 Ode to Retirement. 
 
 ' O my beloved Caves ! from Dog-ftar heats, 
 ' And hotter perfection's fafe retreats, 
 ' What fafety, privacy, what true delight 
 
 ' In the artificial night 
 * Your gloomy entrails make, 
 ' Have I taken, do I take ! 
 ' How oft, when grief has made me fly 
 '. To hide me from fociety, 
 
 i8 7
 
 i88 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. Ay, and we have feen the times 
 that fuch a cave had been worth a king's crown, 
 when he that was near to lofing one, was com- 
 pelled to hide himfelf from his purfuers. 
 
 Angler. Let us pray God that the nation 
 may reft from her troubles ; that we may fit 
 4 every man under bis vine and under his fig- 
 1 tree ;' and angle when he will, in peace be- 
 neath the ftiade of fycamine trees, free from all 
 contentions and jars. 
 
 Painter. This, I hope, may be our happy 
 lot ; and now we have fix braces and a half of 
 trouts ; fo if you pleafe, let us back to Alfton- 
 fields ; for we have two miles to walk, and the 
 fun is going down. 
 
 Angler. I am quite willing to be at home, 
 for I begin to tire ; here is the way. 
 
 Painter. So we are come again to the fteep 
 hill by Narrow Dale : I wifh we were paft it. 
 
 Angler. There are fome houfes ; and a wo- 
 man ftanding at her cottage-door fhall we 
 follow the example of good Dean Nowel, and 
 
 ' Even of my deareft friends have I 
 ' In your recefles' friendly made 
 ' All my forrows open laid, 
 
 ' And my moft fecret woes entrufted to your privacy.' 
 Occafional Poems, p. 138. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 make her happy with the contribution of fome 
 of our fifties ? 
 
 Painter. I had the fame thought. 
 
 Angler. Here, good woman ; will it pleafe 
 you accept this couple of trouts, and I dare be- 
 lieve you'll know how to cook them. 
 
 Cottager. I humbly thank you, gentlemen, 
 and it is not the firft time I have drefled trouts : 
 for noble Mr. Cotton beftows a great part of 
 his fifh upon us. He hath a charitable heart 
 towards his poor neighbours : and for gentle- 
 men anglers, he loves to fee them take their 
 fport in his river. 
 
 Angler. That I am fure of we wifh you a 
 good evening. 
 
 Cottager. Your fervant, kind gentlefolk ; 
 and I thank you too. 
 
 Angler. So we are arrived once more at the 
 King's Head, and there is mine hoft at his door 
 looking about for us. Well, Mr. Marfh ! 
 
 Hoft. Sirs, you are welcome ; and I hope 
 you have found good fport in our river Dove. 
 
 Angler. Exceeding good ; fee, here are 
 fbme brace of trouts for fupper : and now we'll 
 reft ourfelves on this bench till they be ready. 
 
 Hoji. I'll bring them in a trice, for ' the ket- 
 4 tie is fet upon a quick fire of wood, and the 
 c liquor's boiling up.' 
 
 189
 
 190 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. That's well! and, Hoft, c whilft 
 c your fijh is boiling, beat up the butter for your 
 1 fauce.' 
 
 Hoft. It mall be done, Sir ! and ' Pll Jlrew 
 4 it plentifully^ mitk Jhaved horferadijh and a 
 ' little pounded ginger? 
 
 Angler. He remembers every word how Mr. 
 Cotton taught VIATOR to drefs a trout or gray- 
 ling, which queftionlefs is of all other the beft 
 way. 
 
 Painter. That I believe. 
 
 And here comes mine Hoft again with the 
 trouts : they are ferved as quickly as we could 
 defire fo do you fay grace, brother. Amen. 
 
 Ho/}. Sir, They are good-fized fifli, and ex- 
 ceeding well conditioned. 
 
 Angler. The biggeft is my brother's, that he 
 took in the Pike Pool, after you were gone 
 home ; and he has declared it to be his purpofe, 
 from this day, to call himfelf a fcholar of Mr. 
 Walton, and endeavour to learn the fecrets of 
 our craft. 
 
 Hoft. Indeed, Sir ! I am heartily glad of this 
 for I have heard Mr. Walton and Mr. Cot- 
 ton fay, when men are quietly employed a- 
 fifhing, it teaches them to lay afide uneafy 
 thoughts and cares, being a paftime that is full 
 of hope j and this gentleman gives promife to
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 be a fkilful artift with his angle. 
 
 Angler. True and I'll drink his health in a 
 glafs of Staffordmire ale fo make us a loving 
 cup, with toafted bread and fugar, the fame as 
 yefterday. 
 
 Hojt. Sir ! it mall be done as you defire. 
 And quickly. 
 
 dingier. That is well come brother, here's 
 to you and your honeft Mafter, Mr. Izaak 
 Walton, and I will not forget Mr. Charles Cot- 
 ton, for you muft now look upon him as an 
 adopted brother. 
 
 Painter. Truft me, I want no perfuafions to 
 love Mr. Cotton, who hath provided fuch de- 
 lights by the river Dove, and made them all 
 1 facred to anglers ; ' my mind is full of the train 
 of thofe pleafures. And now refolve me this 
 queftion : Why may we not divert ourfelves ano- 
 ther day or two on the margin of this fine river ? 
 
 Angler. Are you in earneft ? 
 
 Painter. Indeed am I ; and if you are fo in- 
 clined, I'll be wholly difpofed of by you. 
 
 Angler. Why, that's brave ! I accept your 
 challenge ; and feeing you have abandoned 
 yourfelf to my conduct, I will perfuade you to 
 walk back to the town of Afhbourne through 
 the whole valley of Dove Dale. 
 
 Painter. That is agreed. Oh ! I am full
 
 192 
 
 River Dove. 
 
 of joyful thoughts of rare angling ; and per- 
 chance we may yet find fome beautiful land- 
 fkips ; neverthelefs, methinks, we have feen the 
 choiceft parts of the river : is it not fo ? 
 
 Angler. Of that I mall afk leave to fay no- 
 thing; do you but wait till to-morrow, and 
 when you are come to the lower ftreams to- 
 wards Afhbourne, I will remit the queftion to 
 your own free judgment. 
 
 Painter. Well, I have fuddenly a thought 
 come into my mind. 
 
 Angler. What is that? I hope it is to give 
 us a fong, for I know you have not been denied 
 a voice or an ear j fo tune up your mufic, and 
 after that I'll make fome attempts myfelf, and 
 fing an innocent fong. 
 
 Painter. Anon anon but now tell me, 
 why mould not we two happy anglers, that 
 have found our walking legs up and down the 
 dopes of thefe glades, ftretch them again to- 
 morrow morning, and go to the higher parts of 
 the Dove, and fee how this river ' fprings from 
 c a contemptible fount ainj that Mr. Cotton fays, 
 ' he can cover with his hat.' 
 
 Angler. On the word of an angler, you are 
 the ftrangeft man that ever I faw ! Let me tell 
 you, the path there and back is near upon 
 twenty miles,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' Up hill and down dell, 
 ' By rock and by fell.' 
 
 Painter. What care I for twenty miles, fo 
 I may but drink a cup from that fountain of the 
 Dove to the health of my mafter, Mr. Izaak 
 Walton ? 
 
 Oh ! the gallant fimer's life, 
 
 It is the beft of any ; 
 'Tis full of pleafure, void of ftrife, 
 
 And 'tis beloved by many. 
 
 Both, Other joys 
 
 Are but toys, 
 Only this 
 Lawful is; 
 For our fkill 
 Breeds no ill, 
 But content and pleafure. 
 
 Angler. In a morning up we rife, 
 Ere Aurora's peeping ; 
 Drink a cup to wafh our eyes, 
 Leave the fluggard fleeping, 
 
 Both. Then we go, 
 
 To and fro, 
 With our knacks 
 At our backs, 
 To the Dove, 
 That *we love, 
 If we have the leifure. 
 
 Angler. Excellent, excellent * you have con- 
 c quered me ; ' and to fpeak the truth, I but tried 
 
 c c
 
 194 
 
 772? River Dove. 
 
 if you were in earneft ; for once on a time I 
 walked by myfelf to the Dove Head, and I may 
 tell you all the way is as full of fair fweet prof- 
 pedts as any can defire that love angling and 
 the wild hadder of the moors ; fo let us be gone 
 to-morrow before the fun rifing. 
 
 Painter. I care not how early ; and now 
 every one to bed with a prayerful heart, that he 
 may fecretly fetch down his confolation from 
 Heaven, and make every thing contribute to 
 his gradual afcent thither. 
 
 Angler. Good night, all.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Angler and the Painter take a pleafant 
 walk to the fource of the Dove. 
 
 Angler. 
 
 OW now ! brave Gentleman, how 
 fares it with you this morning ? 
 
 Painter. Truft me, I am full of 
 joyful expe&ations. 
 Angler. Then you do not repent your fud- 
 den challenge to walk acrofs the moors to the 
 Dove Head ? 
 
 Painter. Oh, Sir, never fear me. 
 
 ' Hark ! the lark at Heaven's gate fmgs 
 
 ' And Phoebus 'gins to arife, 
 ' His fteeds to water at thofe fprings 
 
 ' On chalic'd flowers that lies.' 
 
 The air of thefe mountains hath a wholefom 
 fremnefs that gives wings to the fpirit. 
 
 '95
 
 196 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 jJngler. Very true ; and I have the autho- 
 rity of learned Sir William Temple to declare, 
 that health and long life are to be found on the 
 Peak of Derbyfhire, and the heaths of Staffbrd- 
 fhire. Are you for breakfaft ? 
 
 Painter. Ay ! and look, our hoft has pro- 
 vided for us in this arbour in his garden ; fee, 
 how it is grown over with jeflamines and honey- 
 fuckles. 
 
 Angler. And here is a hedge of fweet-briers 
 it all breathes fragrancy. 
 
 Painter. It is very pleafant ; and now let us 
 difcufs our breakfaft with all freedom, as honeft 
 anglers ought to do : here's new baked bread, 
 and milk and honey; and here's a bowl of 
 curds and whey, with nutmeg and ginger. Are 
 you for that ? 
 
 Angler. With all my heart. 
 
 Painter. What fay you, brother ; is not here 
 a moft frefh and unmatchable morning for tra- 
 vellers ? Do but look over thofe hills ; and 
 there are the blue moors, backed by the bur- 
 nifhed light of the fun rifmg behind them. What 
 can be more glorious ? 
 
 Painter. Nothing, nothing fee how he 
 4 cometh forth as a bridegroom from his cham- 
 1 ber, and rejoiceth as a JJrong man to run a 
 1 race.'
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day, 
 
 With night we banim forrow ; 
 Sweet air, blow foft, mount, larks, aloft, 
 
 To give my love good morrow. 
 Wings from the wind, to pleafe the mind, 
 
 Notes from the lark I'll borrow ; 
 Bird, plume thy wing, nightingales, fing, 
 To give my love good morrow, 
 To give my love good morrow. 
 
 Notes from them both I'll borrow. 
 
 Wake from thy neft, robin redbreaft, 
 
 Sing, birds, in every furrow 5 
 And from each hill let mufic mrill, 
 
 Give my fair love good morrow. 
 Blackbird and thrum in every bum, 
 
 Stare, linnet, and cock fparrow, 
 You pretty elves, among yourfelves, 
 Sing my fair love good morrow. 
 To give my love good morrow, 
 
 Sing, birds, in every furrow. 
 
 Angler. Excellent well ! it is a fong of Mr. 
 Thomas Heywood ? 
 
 Painter. The fame; and now it is your 
 turn. 
 
 jfngler. Let me confider a while ; I'll give 
 you a ballad of John Welbye. Or ftay now, 
 I have one : 
 
 In pride of May, 
 The fields are gay, 
 The birds do fing, fo fweetly fing
 
 198 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 
 So nature would 
 
 
 That all things could, 
 
 
 With joy, begin the fpring. 
 
 
 Then, lady dear, 
 
 
 Do you appear 
 
 
 In beauty, like the fpring ; 
 
 
 I dare to fay, 
 
 
 The birds that day 
 
 
 More cheerfully will fmg.* 
 
 
 And now we have done breakfaft, and I am 
 
 
 ready to attend you. 
 
 
 Painter. Well, then, let us be going. I am 
 
 
 with you, lead on. You remember how the 
 
 
 hoft told us there were two roads to Beresford : 
 
 
 let us take the coach road by the left for a 
 
 
 change ; and now we are at the top look before 
 
 
 you, for there again is Beresford Hall. 
 
 
 Angler. Oh ! that Mr. Charles Cotton were 
 
 
 now there ! and we might be invited to receive 
 
 
 fome inftru&ions in fly-fifhing ! 
 
 
 Painter. And my mafter, honeft Izaak, with 
 
 
 his bottom-fifhing, fo pleafe you, brother. 
 
 
 Angler. That I heartily wifh too. But fee 
 
 
 we are once more arrived at the brink of the 
 
 
 the river. 
 
 
 * Ballads, and Madrigals byThos. Weekes, 1598. 
 
 
 ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. Do we crofs over this fordable 
 place ? 
 
 Angler. Nay that would be roundabout to 
 Harrington ; and mine hoft advifed us rather to 
 turn underneath thofe rocks which are clofe to 
 Pike Pool ; for there we may pafs the river, 
 and have a pleafant profpedt of the fifhing- 
 houfe ; and then by a nearer path acrofs fome 
 fields to Harrington, and after that I can find 
 my way. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart ; fo here we are 
 again : fee the turfy bank where we had the 
 enjoyment of Mr. Walton's book; and the 
 cobbling ftones acrofs the Dove. 
 
 Angler. The fame ; and fo take care, or you 
 may have an unlucky tumble into the river. 
 
 Painter. Over with you, Sir ! I am an 
 angler now, and fear not c the element I trade 
 'in.' 
 
 Angler. Bravely, Mr. Piftor, you have a 
 dexterous management with your heels. Now 
 to the right by this high bank : and look how 
 the river winds through the meadows, above 
 the fifhing-houfe ; and there you fee before you 
 Hartington Church ; if you pleafe, we may 
 pafs to the left of the town ; and now, for a 
 little while, we muft bid farewell to the Dale. 
 Painter. I am forry to hear it ; our pleafures 
 
 199
 
 200 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 are all too fhort-lived : methinks I could fpend 
 all the month of May near to Mr. Cotton's 
 fifhing-grounds. 
 
 Angler. That we might do with great con- 
 tentment ; but for to-day we muft rove among 
 the moorlands ; and if fome of them are barren 
 and bleak, yet they will be fet off to advantage 
 by frefh ftreams, and valleys, and flocks, and 
 herds. Then remember, though we are on 
 pilgrimage, we may fit down on turf cufhions 
 when we are weary, and flng merry fongs, in 
 defpite of care, ay, and of fortune too, that 
 ' rackets with man as with her tennis ball.' 
 
 Painter. And I am refolved to take a plea- 
 fure in all I fee ; but what is yonder hill ? 
 
 Angler. That is Banktop ; and there is Car- 
 derlow Hill, in Staffordmire. But now prepare 
 yourfelf ; for you are come to a bufy water- 
 mill, and yonder you may fee Ludwell Spring, 
 that within a few yards of its rifing, falls into 
 the Dove. 
 
 Painter. How fay you ? is this the very 
 fource of a river gufhing with fo fudden a force, 
 and leaping out of a cavern in a confiderable 
 ftream from underneath the ground ? 
 
 Angler. This ought to be noted in your blank 
 book ; for it confirms an obfervation of Mr. 
 Cotton, that c the Dove from its bead for a mile
 
 The River Dove. 201 
 
 c or two is a black water, becaufe it fprings from 
 4 the mofs ; but in a few miles travel is fo cla- 
 4 rified by the addition of feveral clear and very 
 4 great fprings bigger than itfelf, which gujh out 
 4 of the lime-jione rocks, that before it comes to 
 4 my houfe, which is but fix or f even miles from 
 4 its four ce, you will find it one ofthepureft cryf- 
 4 talline Jlreams you have feen.' 
 
 Painter. That is true ; for, look, before 
 thefe waters are joined, the Dove is a darkifh 
 colour. But here (he comes away, rejoicing 
 in the clearnefs of Ludwell Brook : and fo they 
 hurry themfelves in company to the mill with a 
 mutual alacrity. 
 
 jfngler. There let them go, and to-morrow 
 we fhall meet them by Hanfon Toot. But 
 who comes here ? 
 
 Painter. It is a little country damfel. 
 
 Angler. Good morning, pretty maiden. What 
 are you come for ? 
 
 Maiden of the Mill. To fetch fome water, 
 Sir. 
 
 Painter. I pray you be civil, and let me 
 tafte fome of this clear fpring of the Ludwell 
 from your pitcher. 
 
 Maiden. You are welcome, Sir. I'll dip it in. 
 
 Painter. Thank you, gentle maid ; 'tis as 
 cold as an icicle ; and what is your name ? 
 
 D D
 
 202 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Maiden. Margery, fo pleafe you, Sir. 
 
 Angler. Well, my pretty Margery ; we are 
 greatly beholden to you ; and here is a half 
 Sevil piece to buy ribands for Sundays and 
 holidays ; and fo farewell. 
 
 Maiden. Your fervant, kind Gentlemen, and 
 I thank you both. 
 
 Angler. God fpeed you, pretty Margery ; 
 and may you live as harmlefs and happy as you 
 now appear to be, and fome day or other walk 
 to church on flowers. Come, brother, let us be 
 forward ; for you and I muft up to Wheeldon 
 Hill, that towers to the fkies yonder. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart : farewell, Mar- 
 gery. What a fecret charm is in a youth- 
 ful innocency, that hath not put off the white 
 garments warned in the fountain of baptifm ! 
 I have heard it faid, a child's mind gives a pat- 
 tern of a church temper ; it looks to have come 
 frefh from heaven, and to be the only thing fit 
 to re-afcend to the celeftial prefence. 
 
 Angler. And that, we may believe, was the 
 reafon of our Redeemer exhorting mankind to 
 have the mind of children. And did he not 
 openly declare that their angels do always be- 
 hold the face of their Heavenly Father ? mean- 
 ing their guardian angels. 
 
 Painter. Are you of that opinion ?
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 203 
 
 Angler. I would not take upon myfelf to pry 
 into the vaft fecrets of celeftial intelligences : 
 but, becaufe the church declares that God hath 
 4 ordained and constituted the fervlces of angels 
 c in a wonderful order J and prays that ' they 
 4 may fuccour and defend us on earth J I am not 
 denied the confolation to think how thofe ethe- 
 rial choirs have a fweet miniftration on our 
 behalf, as channels of grace j elfe why doth St. 
 Chryfoftom exhort us to pray for the angel of 
 peace, if they are not able to keep us out of 
 heart-aching fins ? And if I could fix in my 
 mind the allured image of one fuch angelic 
 prefence as my fecret companion, this vale of 
 tears would become a delightful Eden this 
 defert a near approach to heaven : for then it 
 would be my moft pleafant and glorious em- 
 ployment to lift up my feeble voice in the 
 cherubic hymn ; my foul would be faithful 
 and devout, all things would become pure, 
 all things holy, all things peaceful and lovely. 
 And thus following my unfeen guide, I mould 
 have a bleffed fore-intimation of the realms of 
 light, and my earthly fervices be a preparation 
 for the awful prefence of the Higheft. Me- 
 thinks I could never defile my body, which is 
 the temple of God, nor permit a bad thought, 
 or a fordid defire to taint the fan&uary of my
 
 204 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 immortal fpirit, If I knew that would put to 
 flight my angel, and compel its winged forrow- 
 ful retreat back to the courts of heaven, not 
 with triumphant Hofannas for a victory over 
 fin and death, but to make a record of my 
 fatal difcomfiture to its weeping companions of 
 the fkies. Therefore, do not deny me the 
 liberty to believe that God's bright angels 
 throng invifibly through the univerfe, and ' en- 
 c camp about them that fear Him.'' 
 
 Painter. Nay, I wifli to be of your opinion, 
 and that we have an intereft in the prayers of 
 miniftering fpirits, and fo may attain unto ibme 
 likenefs to them : yet remember that they 
 themfelves are kept by the grace of ONE that 
 is above all principalities and powers in heaven 
 or in earth. And we have this furpaffing relifh 
 of hope, that as His divine unerring eye be- 
 holds us with the love of a Mediator, and His 
 Spirit is within and over us as a Comforter, 
 infufing an immortal power into the inmoft 
 foul, we have the confirmation of a continual 
 grace, that imprints a more fublime virtue than 
 the prefence of angels or archangels yea, or 
 of cherubim and feraphim, who veil their faces 
 before Him. Oh ! wherefore is it that we 
 cannot attune our thoughts to the high em- 
 ployment of the invifible Church, who with
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 loud voices found forth joyful hallelujahs to 
 GOD? 
 
 . Angler. Becaufe, brother, through our want 
 of faith our eyes are blinded, that we cannot 
 realize the prefence of the heavenly world, 
 which, neverthelefs, is around and about us, 
 as furely as thefe mountains and thefe fides. 
 Give me leave to tell you, the Church always 
 has, and, notwith {landing the decay of piety, 
 does now acknowledge the c communion of faint sj 
 to wit, that the faints now on earth have 
 fpiritual fellowfhip with ' the general aj/embly 
 4 and Church ofthefirjt-born, which are written 
 4 in Heaven.'* 
 
 Painter. How mean you ? with the faints 
 departed and admitted into the prefence of 
 Chrift ? 
 
 Angler. So it is. I fpeak not now of the 
 dignity that is wrought in holy perfons by the 
 permitted communion with God, according to 
 the laft prayer of our Saviour, that they might 
 be one with Himfelf, (as thou, Father, art in 
 me, and I in thee, that they alfo may be one in 
 W5,)f nor of the fulfilment of His rich pro- 
 mife, that His Father and Himfelf would love 
 them, and come unto them, and make their abode 
 
 * Heb. xii. 22. 
 
 f John xvii. 21.
 
 206 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 with them,* nor of the ineftimable gift of the 
 Comforter, which fhould abide with them for 
 ever, (for he dwelleth with you, and Jhall be in 
 you :) f neither will I now further infift on the 
 blefled aflurance in Scripture of the fpiritual 
 communion of faints on earth with God's angels, 
 who are mini/I er ing fpirits,fent forth to minifter 
 for them who Jhall be heirs of falvation, J yea, 
 and rejoice over them, yea, and wait for their 
 fouls, to carry them triumphantly into Abra- 
 ham's bofom. But, blefled be God ! befides 
 all this, we have aflurance of the love of that 
 innumerable company who wait in hope of the 
 bright morning of the refurre&ion, who whilft 
 on earth were renewed in the image of our 
 God, and endued with the fpirit of Chrift, 
 even thofe fucceflive generations that have de- 
 parted this life in faith, and now made perfect, 
 and inhabiters of the fupernal City. Blefled 
 be God ! they are fecret witnefles to our de- 
 fires, our penitential tears, our failings, our in- 
 ward ftruggles, our outward crofles, are pre- 
 fent with us in the Holy Church, joining in 
 thofe very facraments and prayers which were 
 their own comfort and fupport in their day of 
 
 * John xiv. 23. 
 I Heb. i. 14. 
 
 f Ibid. xiv. 17.
 
 The River Dove. 207 
 
 probation. Nay, death itfelf hath no power to 
 accomplish the reparation of thofe we have 
 moft dearly loved : the grave hath clofed over 
 their mortality, they have efcaped from their 
 outward perifhable frame, and have winged 
 their way to unimaginable joys ; but it may be 
 they are with us in unfeen communion.-^What 
 if their fpirits mingle with ours in a wonderful 
 order ? and although we prefume not to fathom 
 the myftery beyond what is revealed in Scrip- 
 ture, may we not join with them and with the 
 ten thoufand times ten thoufand hofts of hea- 
 ven, in praife of the eternal unity of the God- 
 head, that hath given us this earneft of a glo- 
 rious immortality ? 
 
 Painter. Oh ! the unfearchable riches that 
 are even now within our grafp, if we knew to 
 put forth our hand and reach them ! 
 
 Angler. But alas ! becaufe of the natural 
 averfenefs of our fouls from heavenly contem- 
 plations, and our too intenfe fixednefs on the 
 unreal pleafures of the world, we cannot be 
 warmed and affe&ed with the kindlings of holy 
 defires. 
 
 Painter. 'Tis true, yet ftrange, for a 
 
 religious fpirit is the higheft gift of God ; it 
 is an incenfe that rifes perfumed to His lofty 
 throne, from whence it flows, and gives peace
 
 208 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 of foul which fetteth at naught all the chances 
 of fortune. 
 
 Angler. True, for to be fpiritually minded 
 is peace, and by the bond of peace we are kept 
 in the unity of the Spirit. 
 
 Painter. And that peace is nowhere elfe to 
 be found but only in the Church, as witnefs 
 thofe choice verfes of Mr. George Herbert, who 
 dedicated his mufe to the Divine Majefty, and 
 his life to a chriftian holinefs. 
 
 Sweet Peace, where doft thou dwell ? I humbly crave, 
 
 Let me once know. 
 I fought thee in a fecret cave, 
 And afk'd if Peace were there. 
 A hollow wind did feem to anfwer, No : 
 Go feek elfewhere. 
 
 I did ; and going did a rainbow note ; 
 
 Surely, thought I, 
 This is the Lace of Peace's Coat : 
 I will fearch out the matter. 
 But while I lookt, the clouds immediately 
 Did break and fcatter. 
 
 Then went I to a garden, and did fpie 
 
 A gallant flower, 
 
 The crown Imperial : Sure, faid I, 
 Peace at the root muft dwell. 
 But when I digg'd, I faw a worm devour 
 What fhow'd fo well. 
 
 At length I met a rev'rend good old man ; 
 Whom when for Peace
 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 209 
 
 I did demand, he thus began : 
 
 
 There was a Prince of old 
 
 
 At Salem dwelt, who lived with good encreafe 
 
 
 Of Flock and Fold. 
 
 
 He fweetly liv'd ; yet fweetnefs did not fave 
 
 
 His life from foes. 
 
 
 But after death out of his grave 
 
 
 There fprang twelve ftalks of wheat ; 
 
 
 Which many wondering at, got fome of thofe 
 
 
 To plant and fet. 
 
 
 It profper'd ftrangely, and did foon difperfe 
 
 
 Through all the earth : 
 
 
 For they that tafte it do rehearfe 
 
 
 That vertue lies therein ; 
 
 
 A fecret vertue, bringing peace and mirth 
 
 
 By flight of fin. 
 
 
 Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, 
 
 
 And grows for you ; 
 
 
 Make bread of it, and that repofe 
 
 
 And peace, which every where 
 
 
 With fo much earneftnefs you do purfue, 
 
 
 Is only there.* 
 
 
 jfngler. You are in the right : the meaning 
 
 
 of Mr. George Herbert was, that peace may 
 
 
 only be found in the unity of the Holy Church, 
 
 
 which is built on the foundation of the apojiles 
 
 
 and prophet 5, Jefus Chrijl being the chief corner 
 
 
 Jtone , and St. Chryfoftom hath faid the name 
 
 
 * Herbert's Poems, THE CHURCH, p. 117. 

 
 The River Dove. 
 
 CHURCH is a name of harmony j and truly, 
 for he declares it to be a place of angels and of 
 archangels, a palace of God, heaven itfelf ; 
 and her anointed minifters are the bearers of 
 God's faithful meflage ; baptizing all people 
 into her oije communion, difpenfing to all the 
 euchariftic Body and Blood of Chrift their Re- 
 deemer, and catechizing all, young and old, in 
 the holy myfteries of the Scriptures, which 
 difplay the glory of God in the government and 
 redemption of the world. 
 
 Painter. 4 How beautiful upon the mountains 
 4 are the feet of him that bringetb good tidings, 
 4 that publijheth Peace.' 
 
 Angler. And when the prophet would raife 
 up the heart of the afflicted Church, 4 toffed 
 4 with tempeft and not comforted^ he faith, ' Be- 
 4 hold, I will lay thyjtones with fair colours, and 
 4 lay thy foundations with fapphires, and I will 
 c make thy windows of agates, and thy gates of 
 4 carbuncles, and all thy borders ofpleafantjtones. 
 4 And all thy children Jhall be taught of the 
 4 Lord; and great Jhall be the Peace of thy 
 
 4 people? But we grow too ferious let us 
 
 be forward, or we (hall fcarce reach the end of 
 our walk. 
 
 Painter. I am with you : and what big moun- 
 tains are they, fo dark in the diftance ? they
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 muft be ten miles off. I hope we fhall have 
 nothing to fay to them. 
 
 Angler. Truft me, brother, and fomething 
 beyond them too, if you would fee Dove Head 
 to-day ; but they are not fo far as you think, 
 and when you come to them, you'll like them 
 none the worfe for their fteepnefs. But now 
 we are arrived at Pilfbury, you may fee Broad 
 Meadow that is a handfome manfion-houfe 
 on the other fide of the ftream ; and this is 
 Wheeldon Hill. 
 
 Painter. Well, to be fure, he is not fo diffi- 
 cult and tedious as he looked to be from Lud- 
 well. 
 
 Angler. I declare no man living can trudge 
 better than you do. And now you may find 
 Crowdey Cote Bridge in the bottom, and a 
 fpring that contributes all its clearnefs to the 
 Dove ; and thus I have brought you to Stern- 
 dale ; and fo let us pafs to the right. 
 
 Painter. Stay awhile, brother ; methinks we 
 are leaving our Dove, and that I have no mind 
 to do. 
 
 Angler. Let me perfuade you, for it is only 
 to bring you back to her again with greater 
 contentment ; fo you may leave her to her own 
 carelefs pleafures in thofe flowery meads, whilft 
 you and I pafs through Glutton Dale ; and here 
 
 211
 
 212 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 we have dipped into the valley, and are come 
 to the bafe of the hill, that looked fo towering 
 fome miles off. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! we are arrived at it quickly. 
 Has this mountain a name hereabouts ? 
 
 Angler. Ay, and a well known one with 
 its elder brother, that is twice as high ; they 
 are the Great and Little Cromes ; and there 
 you may now fee them before you, with cattle 
 feeding on the very pinnacle. 
 
 Painter. That is a ftrange fight ; I wonder 
 how they clambered up fuch a fteepy crag. 
 
 Angler. And fee, I am as good as my word, 
 for here we are come again to the Dove ; fo 
 follow me over this wooden bridge into Staf- 
 ford fh ire. 
 
 Painter. Is this your River Dove ? She is 
 not grown bigger fmce laft we parted. 
 
 Angler. You are in the right ; (he is lefs and 
 lefs, and darker than we remember her : for 
 her path has been through fome boggy moun- 
 tainous ways ; but like the eyes of a Moorifh 
 beauty, fhe is clear and fparkling, and is now 
 hurrying on to the fweet profpecls about Mr. 
 Cotton's fiming-houfe that we fo lately pafTed : 
 and do you mark how me declines the invita- 
 tions of thefe little rocks and glades, and water- 
 docks, and fhaly banks that hope to detain
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 her, breaking away from them with a difdainful 
 murmur. 
 
 Painter. And not without reafon, for the 
 profpefts hereabouts are middling. 
 
 Angler. Nay turn yourfelf, and look at 
 thofe high mountains : the two Cromes are 
 now behind us, where the flocks and cattle ftill 
 browfe on the fummits. 
 
 Painter. How, fay you ? Not thofe Cromes 
 you fpoke of an hour ago ? 
 
 Angler. The fame ; but now they prefent 
 themfelves in a bold profile, and are broken into 
 (harper edges. 
 
 Painter. Sharp indeed, for the crags on 
 the top are of fuch a narrownefs, that I would 
 not believe the cattle might ftand there, if I 
 did not fee them do it : and, for my own part, 
 I would not go over thofe rocks * for a thou- 
 4 J r and pounds .' 
 
 Angler. c Nor tumble off" them for two. 1 
 
 Painter. It is c an odd country indeed : ' 
 but halt, brother, what is that I fee ? 
 
 Angler. Having paft by Winterfide, that 
 looked fo cold and rocky, we are come to 
 Wafhgate ; and tell me what you think of the 
 landfkip before you ? 
 
 Painter. You have taken me quite by a fur- 
 prife, for here is a prodigious paflage in the 
 
 213
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 mountains that for rudenefs of nature cannot be 
 exceeded : methinks we are come to the world's 
 end. 
 
 Angler. See how the Dove is fuddenly forced 
 down thefe rocky ledges, and is then joined by 
 another and as rapid a ftream, Calfhaw Brook, 
 that is fcarce deferving of a name, yet guflies 
 down with a merry loud noife. 
 
 Painter. I am enchanted with this wilder- 
 nefs : but I will confefs your mountainous 
 ways have put my metal to the proof, and I 
 begin to be weary ; fo I befeech you let us fit 
 awhile, that I may do my beft to make a pic- 
 ture of thefe high rocks ; and I fhall afk you 
 to read me fome paflages from my mafter's 
 Book of Angling ; and I remember how, be- 
 caufe his happy companion, VENATOR, pro- 
 mifed to dedicate two days to angling in his 
 company, it was agreed they fhould firft be- 
 ftow the next day to hunt the Otter. 
 
 Angler. You mall hear what they did after 
 they met the next morning, juft as the fun was 
 rifing. For you are to know, as they came 
 to Amwell Hill, the dogs had juft put down 
 an Otter. Then, after a fhort greeting, Mr. 
 VENATOR told him to ' look down at the bot- 
 ' torn of the hill there, in that meadow, che- 
 4 quered with water-lilies and lady-fmocks, there
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 you may fee what work they make. Look ! 
 ' look ! all bufy ; men and dogs, dogs and men 
 4 all bufy.' Then PISCATOR declared ; 4 he 
 4 was glad to fee fo many dogs, and more men, 
 1 all in purfuit of the Otter : let us compliment 
 1 no longer, but join unto them. Come, ho- 
 1 neft VENATOR, let us be gone, let us make 
 c hafte ; I long to be doing no reafonable 
 4 hedge or ditch mail hold me.' 
 
 Painter. Was it Mr. Izaak faid that ? 
 
 dngler. Ay, ay ; quiet Mr. Walton, that 
 carries himfelf with fo fingular a fweetnefs and 
 temper but he hath a cheerful fpirit, and withal 
 a fweet inftindr. towards innocent recreations : 
 and fo he was fuddenly tranfported, and 4 longed 
 4 to be doing.' Think how the meek angler 
 promifed c no reafonable hedge or ditch fhould 
 4 hold him.' I can almoft think I fee him now 
 with his ftaff, halting to the bottom of the hill, 
 where 4 the men and dogs, dogs and men, were 
 4 all bufy.' 
 
 Painter. And tell me what they faw when 
 they got there ? 
 
 Angler. They met a Gentleman Huntfman, 
 that was cheering on his dogs to take the Otter; 
 fo they enquired where he found this Otter ; 
 and he replied, 4 Marry, Sir, we found her a 
 4 mile from this place a-fifhing : fhe has this 
 
 2I 5
 
 2l6 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 morning eaten the greateft part of this trout ; 
 ' fhe has only left thus much of it, as you fee, 
 ' and was riming for more ; when we came we 
 4 found her juft at it : but we were here very 
 c early, we were here an hour before fun-rife, 
 * and have given her no reft fmce we came ; 
 c furely fhe will hardly efcape all thefe dogs and 
 t men.' Then, after a fhort converfation, he 
 bade them follow him, for he faw the c Otter 
 ' above water at vent, and the dogs clofe with 
 1 him j I now fee, he will not laft long follow, 
 c therefore, my mafters, follow ; for Sweetlips 
 ' was like to have him at this laft vent.' Then 
 you may be fure they followed, and with a great 
 eagernefs : then VENATOR cried out : c Oh me ! 
 c all the horfes are got over the river, what 
 c mail we do now ? fhall we follow them over 
 1 the water ?' c No, Sir, no ;' (faid the Otter- 
 huntfman) c be not fo eager ; ftay a little, and 
 c follow me, for both they and the dogs will be 
 c fuddenly on this fide again, I warrant you, 
 c and the otter too, it may be. Now have at 
 1 him with Killbuck, for he vents again.' Then 
 VENATOR, having a natural propenfity to all 
 kinds of fports with dogs, heartily exclaimed, 
 ' Marry ! fo he does : for, look ! he vents in 
 c that corner. Now, now, Ringwood has him : 
 4 now he is gone again, and has bit the poor
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 1 dog. Now, Sweetlips has her ; hold her, 
 ' Sweetlips ! now all the dogs have her ; fome 
 4 above, and fome under water : but now, now 
 * me is tired, and paft lofing. Come, bring her 
 ' to me, Sweetlips. Look ! It is a Bitch-otter, 
 ' and fhe has lately whelped. Let's go to the 
 ' place where fhe was put down ; and not far 
 1 from it you will find all her young ones, I 
 4 dare warrant you, and kill them all to.' 
 
 Painter. Excellent ! What a joyful and na- 
 tural confufion of the huntfmen ! c men and 
 4 dogS) dogs and men^ all bufy.' 
 
 Angler. And after that they went to an ho- 
 neft ale-houfe, where they had a cup of good 
 barley wine, and fang Old Rofe^ and fo they 
 rejoiced together, and then bade farewell with 
 mutual good thoughts and wimes ; and fo ho- 
 neft Mr. Walton and his fcholar went to their 
 fport of angling. 
 
 Painter. Very pleafant ! what a natural 
 fprightlinefs of manner in handling his fubjecl: ! 
 and fuch mafterly touches of art, that it is all 
 like an excellent piece of painting. But now 
 I have done my poor draught of the landfkip, 
 fo let us forward ; methinks Dove head is never 
 to come. 
 
 Angler. Patience, brother, for you have, ere 
 long, fomething more to fee : and now we are 
 
 F F 
 
 217
 
 2l8 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 parted over the bridge back again into the county 
 of Derby, what do you think of this fudden 
 change in the river ? There are high rocks and 
 crags on either fide : fome have been tumbled 
 down to the bottom in confufed heaps, and 
 threaten they will block up the paflage. 
 
 Painter. This makes the Dove more fretful 
 and noify, and rather than fhe will be detained 
 in this ftony wildernefs, me vaults over the 
 crags, and throws herfelf into a cafcade under- 
 neath the bridge. But look to your feet ; for 
 I like not this edge of the cliffs, that ftand fo 
 high. How now ! there is another glen joins 
 itfelf ; and, I declare, a rapid ftream, as big, or 
 may be bigger than the Dove, and to fay the 
 truth, I know not which is our own river. 
 
 Angler. Then make fome guefs before I de- 
 clare it to you. 
 
 Painter. I cannot refolve you. Methinks 
 that to the right is more like to come from Der- 
 byfhire. 
 
 Angler. Nay, the left hand is our courfe ; 
 the other water, that gufhes in her channel with 
 fo fingular a fteepnefs, is Cooper-Brook ; and 
 if you liften, you may hear with what a fweet 
 harmony me welcomes the approach of her 
 future playmate, and pays her willing tribute 
 into the ftreams of the Dove, and is happy to
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 change her own name for another and a better, 
 that is in fo great efteem with all anglers. 
 
 Painter. Here is one of thofe fpots of nature 
 that I love to behold. This is the nobleft 
 architecture imaginable ; for here are moun- 
 tains, and rocks, and valleys difpofed in a wild 
 order, that is more excellent than the richeft 
 ornaments of all Greece : nay, I will not make 
 an exception of the Parthenon at Athens, or 
 the great ColofTeum in Rome ; nor the very 
 pillars of the gate, which was called Beautiful, 
 in the Temple at Jerufalem, nor all the once 
 glorious Palmyra are able to contend for noble- 
 nefs againft thefe works of nature. 
 
 Angler. Which is not to be wondered at, 
 fmce thofe were builded by man ; but the hills 
 have God for their founder : it is HE that 
 ' weighs the mountains in fcales^ and the hills 
 4 in a balance.' HE it is that can make them 
 break forth into tinging, or caufe them to be 
 defolate ; that can remove them into the depths 
 of the fea, as eafily as He caufed their higheft 
 tops to be covered with the flood, when He 
 opened the gates of heaven. 
 
 Painter. And for that beautiful ftrudture of 
 the Temple of Zion which was ornamented 
 with fo many thoufand talents of gold, and 
 refined filver and brafs, and a number of all 
 
 219
 
 220 
 
 T/ie River Dove. 
 
 manner of precious ftones, that Honourable 
 Mr. Robert Boyle fays, was capable of impo- 
 verifhing the Indies, and thofe cherubims over- 
 laid with gold within the oracle that ftretched 
 forth their wings, fo that the wing of the one 
 touched the one wall, and the wing of the other 
 cherub touched the other wall where are they 
 now ? they are difperfed as a dream : but thefe 
 mountains fhall remain till that hour, when 
 4 the heavens Jhall pafs away with a great noife^ 
 c and the elements Jhall melt with fervent heat.'' 
 
 Angler. And hath not HE declared, (whofe 
 4 coming' fhall then be) that Solomon himfelf, 
 the builder of the firft Temple, in all his glory, 
 was not arrayed like one even of thofe heathy 
 flowers you have in your hand ? I befeech you 
 give me that bunch you have plucked, and 
 when I go home, I'll dry them in a book, that I 
 may fometimes call back again to my mind this 
 happy day's journey, and thefe fweet thoughts 
 arrtidft the fprings of the Dove. 
 
 Painter. Do fo ; and I am glad to think that 
 in this manner I fhall live the better in your 
 memory. 
 
 Angler. Truft me for that, brother. But 
 we muft not tarry j we muft be away for Dove 
 Head. 
 
 Painter. I am with vou : but here are more
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ups and downs than I expected ; how long will 
 they laft ? for I begin to flag. 
 
 Angler. Cheer up, heart, and follow me ; 
 and that I may beguile the length of the way 
 along thefe mofly flopes that are fo foft under 
 foot, and becaufe you are won to the love of 
 angling, I will perform my promife, and read 
 you that epiftle of Mr. Cotton to Mr. Izaak 
 Walton. 
 
 Painter. I (hall be charmed to hear it. 
 
 Angler. Then liften, 
 
 4 Feb : y e . 13. 1676. 
 4 My deare and worthy Father, 
 
 4 Suppofing you (who are ever fo conftant 
 4 to your refolutions) to bee by this time re- 
 4 turn'd to London, I venture to give you the 
 ' trouble of a letter to enquire how you doe, 
 c and whether I may hope to fee you here this 
 1 approaching fummer : in truth I long for no- 
 4 thing more than to fee you, and therefore if 
 4 your affaires either invite you this way j or 
 4 will permitt you to beftow fome time upon 
 ' your friends that love you, itt will, without 
 4 complement, bee as great a fatis faction to 
 4 mee, as I could allmoft wifh. In the next 
 4 place, give mee leave to enquire how my 
 
 221
 
 222 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 4 Lords Grace of Canterbury does, and my 
 4 Lord of Winton. The laft of which was 
 * every where in thefe parts fo confidently re- 
 4 ported for dead ; that in earned, I concluded 
 4 him fo, till I received your laft letter, which, 
 ' though you did not mention him in itt, af- 
 1 fured mee neverthelefle hee was ftill living, 
 1 otherwife I fuppofe you had had no bufinefle 
 4 at Farnham : your owne famyly I need not 
 4 fo ftricl:ly to enquire after, becaufe I know 
 4 you will tell me without afking, fo that till I 
 4 fhall againe heare from you, I have little more 
 4 to fay, excepting to tell you y { I have here 
 4 enclofed fent you a ridiculous fong I made 
 4 one day by the River fide ; that my Lady of 
 4 Ardglafs is your fervant, and joins with mee 
 4 in the requeft of feeing you here, together 
 4 with that old and conftant truth, that I am, 
 4 and muft ever bee, whilft wee two live, 
 
 ' Dear Father, Your moft affectionate friend, 
 ' Sonne and Servant, 
 
 4 CHARLES COTTON.' 
 
 4 We are all here very well, that is now wee 
 4 begin to thaw again : for fo nipping a winter 
 4 has not been for thefe many years, and yett 
 4 when the water was frozen up almoft, and
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 223 
 
 c only a fmall gullet open in the fharp of the 
 
 
 ' ftreams, I then killed feveral Graylings, 16, 
 
 
 * 17, 1 8, and 20 inches long with an Afh grub, 
 
 
 c and no more than one {ingle hayre, as feve- 
 
 
 4 rail can witnefTe ; and that in their full vigour 
 
 
 ' and beft feafon. My fervice I pray to Mr. 
 
 
 4 Daniell Sheldon ; to whom by the next re- 
 
 
 1 turne of the carrier I will fend fome flies and 
 
 
 4 direcl: them to Sir Jofeph Sheldon.' 
 
 
 Painter. A very pleafant cheerful letter, and 
 
 
 a fure witnefs to the love thefe two familiar 
 
 
 matters of angling bear to each other's perfon. 
 
 
 dng/er. I would we had that c ridiculous 
 
 
 1 poem made one day by the River Jide ;' which 
 
 
 was enclofed in it : but that was not in the pof- 
 
 
 feffion of my Aldlne Scholar ; and I am only 
 
 
 permitted to hope Mr. Walton hath treafured 
 
 
 it up with fome others to be hereafter put forth 
 
 
 to the world in print. 
 
 
 Painter. In a handfome ' litel boke ' and 
 
 
 becaufe you have fhewn me how my mafter 
 
 
 will fometimes court the favour of the mufes, it 
 
 
 may come to pafs fome May morning, when 
 
 
 they are angling together, the two poets fhall 
 
 
 refolve to afk Mr. Richard Marriott* to print 
 
 
 * Richard Marriott was the publilher of almoft all 
 
 
 Izaak Walton's works. ED. 

 
 224 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 their verfes in a happy conjunction. 
 
 Angler. That would be as worthy of our 
 perufal as the SHEPHERD'S GARLAND fajhioned 
 in Eglogs^ by Mr. Walton's honeft old friend 
 Michael Drayton : and doubtlefs my Lord's 
 Grace of Canterbury, who loves Mr. Walton 
 and his art of fifhing, will have a pleafure to 
 affix his IMPRIMATUR ex jEdibus Lambethanis. 
 
 Painter. And methinks Mr. Cotton, when 
 he commanded his fervice to Mr. Daniel Shel- 
 don and promifed to fend fome flies to Sir Jo- 
 feph Sheldon, knew that Mr. Walton was on a 
 fhort vifit to the Archbifhop at Lambeth. 
 
 Angler. Or it might be at his palace in 
 Croydon ? but look you, there is the Dove, 
 down in the deep glen beneath ; and though 
 fhe grows more diminutive, yet there are bright 
 rills that filently glide out of the mountains to 
 
 fwell her little eddies and cafcades And 
 
 now, here is another turn in the path, and fo I 
 have brought you to Dove-head. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! I'm rejoiced to hear it, 
 but how ! I fee no * contemptible fountain that 
 4 / can cover with my hatj but a tolerable 
 ftream. 
 
 Angler. Patience, good brother it is true 
 we are here come to the hamlet of Dove-head; 
 but for the fource of the ftream, you are to
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 mount with me the fide of this broad mountain, 
 that is called AXE EDGE. 
 
 Painter. Alas the day ! up this great moun- 
 tain, which is as high as Mont Blanc in Swit- 
 zerland ? but much darker, I warrant you. 
 Well, Sir, if it muft be fo, but I'm almoft ex- 
 haufted. 
 
 Angler. Come, let me give you a helping 
 hand. 
 
 Painter. I thank you, but I'm too big-hearted 
 to yield me fo put on your manhood, and 
 ftalk along ; I'll ftem Broad Axe Edge with a 
 4 heart of controverfy.' Heigh ho ! now we 
 are up, and here is nothing I can fee in the like- 
 nefs of a river. 
 
 Angler. Pardon me, for I may now wifh you 
 joy ; look to this fide of you ; here is the c con- 
 4 temptible little fountain.' 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! and fo there is what a 
 marvellous little fountain ! but it is a moft clear 
 and pellucid ftream. 
 
 Angler. And yet Mr. Cotton declares this 
 river 'from Its head, for a mile or two, Is a black 
 ' water, as all the rejl of the Derby/hire rivers 
 4 of note originally are ; for they all fpring from 
 1 the mojjes. 
 
 Painter. Well, I fee no mofTes hereabouts, 
 but a highland downy turf, and it is a pure and 
 
 G G 
 
 225
 
 226 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 transparent rill. 
 
 Angler. Well, well ; we may leave thefe nice 
 queftions ; only this is for certain, here is the 
 fource of the river Dove fo let us fit and reft 
 ourfelves. 
 
 Painter. With all my heart, for I was never 
 fo tired in my life, fcrambling up and down thefe 
 moorlands: I fcarce thought my legs would 
 carry me fo far. 
 
 ' Here down my wearyed limbs I'll lay, 
 * My pilgrim's ftaffe, my weeds of grey.' 
 
 Angler. It is a good angler's walk, I grant 
 you ; and by the fun we are eight hours from 
 Alftonfields ! 
 
 Painter. Come, then where is the knack 
 of provifions ? 
 
 Angler. Here it is, and I profefs to you I am 
 both hungry and thirfty. There is a flab of 
 ftone that covers the fountain will ferve for a 
 table and here is the well of water to cool our 
 Rhenifti. 
 
 Painter. So, fo ; it is all delightful : indeed 
 it all breathes of pleafure ; let's open the wallet, 
 and make ourfelves joyful at the head of the 
 Dove. By the word of an angler, I mean to 
 throw away all cares and be light-hearted. 
 Come, Sir, your appetite is fqueamim.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Truft me, I'm quite hearty ; and 
 here's my fervice to you in a cup of wine. 
 
 Painter. The fame to you, and is not our 
 hoft a good caterer ? with hunger for fauce, 
 this provifion is fit for a king ! and I am now 
 able, on this wild moor, to be as happy as any 
 prince in Chriftendom. 
 
 Angler. And why not, if we have grateful 
 and contented hearts ? 
 
 ' Sweet are the thoughts that favour of content, 
 
 * The quiet mind is richer than a crown ; 
 
 ' Sweet are the nights in carelefs (lumber fpent ; 
 
 ' The poor eftate fcorns Fortune's angry frown. 
 ' Such fweet content, fuch minds, fuch fleep, fuch blifs, 
 ' Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do mifs ! ' 
 
 But come, Sir, it is your turn for a fong ; fo 
 pleafe you begin. 
 
 Painter. Well, then, I'll try my voice at a 
 fong of George Withers : 
 
 * Lordly gallants, tell me this, 
 
 ' Though my fafe content ye weigh not, 
 
 * In your greatnefs, what one blifs 
 
 ' Have you gained that I enjoy not ? 
 
 ' You have honours, you have wealth 
 ' I have peace, and I have health, 
 ' All the day I merry make, 
 ' And at night no care I take. 
 
 ' Bound to none my fortunes be, 
 ' This or that man's fall I care not ; 
 
 227
 
 228 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 * Him I love that loveth me ; 
 ' For the reft a pin I care not. 
 
 ' You are mad when others chafe, 
 * And grow merry when they laugh ; 
 ' I that hate it, and am free, 
 ' Laugh and weep as pleafeth me.' 
 
 And now we'll drink a health to our matters in 
 angling. 
 
 Angler. And let it be in a fip of clear water 
 from this fountain-head of the Dove, by way 
 of memorial. 
 
 Painter. Well, well, only a fip, and after 
 that we'll drink to them in better Rhenifli. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart. 
 
 Painter. Here's to Mr. Walton and Mr. 
 Cotton. 
 
 Angler. To Mr. Walton and Mr. Cotton ! 
 And now, by your leave, I'll grave the two firft 
 letters of their names in cipher on this very 
 ftone that is over the fountain. 
 
 Painter. How mean you ? 
 
 Angler. Here are tools, I borrowed from our 
 hoft, for I had bethought me of this, and muft 
 confefs I purpofed it in my mind, the laft time 
 I travelled this way. So do you be bufy in a 
 pi&ure, and I'll make a rude copy of the cipher 
 which is over the door of the fifliing-houfe. 
 
 Painter. It is an excellent conceit; and I
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 229 
 
 hope Mr. Cotton may one day chance to hear 
 of this, and wonder at the unknown travellers 
 that hold him in fo high efteem ; and would he 
 might now fee our mutual labours ! Come, Sir, 
 lend me your fteel, and I'll light a pipe fo ! 
 and now do you tell me fomething of this Axe 
 Edge which is as dark as a thunder-cloud, but 
 no more like an axe than I'm like a tree. Are 
 we now in the county of Derby or Stafford ? 
 
 Angler. Which you pleafe : for here you 
 may now ftand with one foot on the county of 
 Stafford, and the other in Derbyfhire ; look 
 you, or I will rather fay, liften ; for you will 
 fcarce hear, and cannot fee the puny Dove that 
 now trickles out of the well under our feet, and 
 goes ruftling through the long grafs down the 
 fide of the mountain ; and neverthelefs I may 
 tell you, (he is big enough to divide the coun- 
 ties one from another for many a long mile. 
 There : 4 go thy way, little Dove,' and make 
 glad the thoufand meadows that you have a 
 mind to vifit in your rambles. 
 
 Painter. And, truft me, me fhall receive the 
 applaufes of many meek and happy anglers in 
 return for the pleafures me beftows on them. 
 But tell me fomething further, honeft Pifcator, 
 of this great mountain. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, you are to note, Axe
 
 230 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Edge gives birth to many a trouty ftream : and 
 if we had time to come at them, I could fhow 
 you fome clear fountains, as the Goit and others ; 
 but next to the Dove is the river Wye, that 
 flows down this mountain, till it comes to the 
 hot wells at Buxton, and after that, to Bakewell 
 and the noble hall at Haddon ; and is there- 
 abouts made brighter than before by the Lath- 
 kill. But fee, here we have Mr. Walton and 
 Mr. Cotton's initial letters twifted together in 
 cipher, and graved on the ftone. I hope no 
 uncivil hand will untie the knot that joins them. 
 
 Painter. I hope fo too, for it is excellently 
 well graved, and a worthy tribute to our maf- 
 ters at the very fountain-head of their favoured 
 Dove. 
 
 Angler. And now for a fong. Nay we muft 
 be ftirring, or we fhall not find our way to 
 Alftonfields before dark. 
 
 Painter. Ah me ! I had almoft forgot : did 
 you fay all the way back to Alftonfields ? and 
 muft it be ? I know not if my legs will carry 
 me fo far.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Then you may ufe your beft argu- 
 ments to perfuade them ; for I can tell you, 
 Axe Edge is a cold bed for travellers, and you'll 
 find no houfe of entertainment by the way. 
 But, come, another cup, and then let us pack 
 up, and away with a good will. Sir, I pledge 
 you. 
 
 Painter. Well, well ! that's a refreming 
 draught, and I am with you, fo do you lead on. 
 
 Angler. And I have fbmething to tell you 
 for your comfort. I fhall bring you by a near 
 path acrofs thefe mountains to the other fide of 
 the Great Crome ; it is not half the diftance 
 and for the greater part down hill. 
 
 Painter. That's pleafant news ; but now I'm 
 unconquerable ; I'm fit for any thing. 
 
 Angler. Come, then, bear away to the left ; 
 and what fay you to thefe ridges that are piled 
 up one after the other ? 
 
 Painter. It is all exceeding wild. Thefe 
 mountains have a noble folemn look. 
 
 Angler. But let me think awhile : I have 
 fome mifgivings. I cannot refolve me which 
 is our neareft way ; let us try this wild path to 
 the left. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Mafter, if you have loft your 
 reck'ning over thefe Alps, we fhall chance to 
 fleep under this 'moft excellent canopy, the 
 
 2 3 I
 
 232 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 4 air.' But ftay ; what is yonder ? a lonely 
 cottage on the next brow. So fortune has 
 helped us at a pinch. 
 
 Angler. 'Tis fome poor peaceful mepherd's 
 cottage ; let us go forward and knock ! Holloa ! 
 within there ! 
 
 Shepherd. Who's there ? how now, my lads ! 
 
 Angler. Good even, mafter : can you tell us 
 the way to Hartington ? 
 
 Shepherd. To Hartington, good gentlemen ? 
 marry can I, 'twere ftrange elfe : old Racing 
 Harrifon might bring you acrofs thefe moun- 
 tains blindfolded, if need were. 
 
 Angler. Pr'ythee tell us, if we are to take to 
 the left hand ? 
 
 Shepherd. Ay, to the left, through yon flip- 
 ftyle; and mind to keep the Crome on your 
 right : but ftay awhile ; I'll fetch my ftaff, and 
 go along with you. 
 
 Painter. We thank you : but firft let us 
 offer you a cup of good wine ; and if it pleafe 
 you, I'll put this cold pie on the fettle at the 
 door, for fupper, when you come back. And 
 now who's for a pipe ? 
 
 Angler. I and all. Come, Mafter Shep- 
 herd, try my Virginia. 
 
 Shepherd. I thank you, gentlemen travellers ; 
 and now this way, for the evening comes on.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. You feem to have a hearty old age ; 
 you ftep like a yonker. 
 
 Shepherd. Ay, Sir ; the time has been, when 
 I was huntfman's groom to the noble Earl's 
 father, I could fcale thefe hills from morning 
 till funfet, and tire down the ftouteft buck. 
 
 Angler. Then you have ferved the great fa- 
 mily of Cavendifh ? 
 
 Shepherd. That, Sir, has been my pride thefe 
 many a-year, in peace and war. I followed the 
 Earl's noble brother, General Charles, to Gran- 
 tham, and was clofe to him at the battle of 
 Gainfborough, when the rebel Noll forced him 
 and his unbroken Lincoln troop into a quag- 
 mire. I myfelf heard him refufe quarter from 
 fo feditious a crew, and faw him caft his blood 
 that flowed from his wounds into their faces, 
 and fo he died as he lived, one of the moft 
 loyal cavaliers and fervants of the late king. 
 After that I was made ranger hereabouts : but 
 now I am three-fcore years, and fome of the 
 ailments of age have come upon me ; fo I tend 
 my little flock of fheep, and pay my honourable 
 Lord a peppercorn for rent. 
 
 Painter. Are thefe lands hereabouts the Earl 
 of Devonmire's ? 
 
 Shepherd. That are they for miles and miles. 
 He's a little king in all this country, and a right 
 
 2 33 
 
 H H
 
 234 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 royal matter to old Racing Harrifon. Now 
 look ye, Gentlemen, the path lies between thefe 
 two hills ; and when you come to another flip- 
 ftyle at the bottom, you are to hold right on, 
 till you fee ftars twinkle through the hole in 
 the top crag of the Crome. 
 
 Angler. Ay, now I remember. Thanks, 
 honeft Shepherd, and good even to you. 
 
 Shepherd. Good even, young Gentlemen ; 
 and will you pleafe give an old man his licenfe ? 
 Ah ! memory tells us youth is a flippery time ; 
 and every ftep you take fhall bring you nearer 
 or wider the way of heaven. We fhall not 
 meet again on thefe hills ; but when the laft 
 trump fhall found, may we all be found with 
 the mark on our foreheads. 
 
 Painter. Amen to that pious wifh. And 
 now a hearty farewell, and thanks for your fafe 
 conduct. Truft me, we fhall remember honeft 
 Racing Harrifon of the hills. 
 
 Shepherd. I thank you, good Gentlemen ; 
 and may peace be with you. Away ! for night 
 draws apace. 
 
 dngler. Brother, there was fomething touch- 
 ing in that old Shepherd's parting words. But 
 fee, we are now come behind the Great Crome. 
 
 Painter. Is it poflible ? and fo foon ! You 
 promifed to make the way fhorter, and well it
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 2 35 
 
 is fo ; for thofe golden lights from the fetting 
 
 
 fun bid good even to the landfkip, and the val- 
 
 
 leys are thrown into an oppofition of deepening 
 
 
 fhadows. 
 
 
 Angler. l En avant ' is the word, feeing how 
 
 
 the evening clofes around us. 
 
 
 Painter. Why, what a conjuror are you ! 
 
 
 Sure we are come again to Glutton Dale, or 
 
 
 I'm miftaken ? 
 
 
 Angler. The fame ; and here you will pafs 
 
 
 into Stern Dale, and then by Crowdey. Cote, 
 
 
 and Ludwell, where we are now arrived ; and 
 
 
 fo you are within a mile of Hartington. 
 
 
 Painter. Why, this is excellent ! and now 
 
 
 methinks I fee Hartington Church. Ho ! ho ! 
 
 
 I'm off my legs. 
 
 
 Angler. Come, Sir, one more ftretch, and 
 
 
 then we're at home ; fo be a man ; 
 
 
 ' Jog on, jog on the footpath way, 
 
 
 ' And merrily hent the ftyle a, 
 
 
 * Your merry heart goes all the day, 
 
 
 ' Your fad one tires in a mile a.'* 
 
 
 Painter. Truft me, never was pilgrim glad- 
 
 
 der to fee the goal of his journey, than I fhall 
 
 
 be to find myfelf at Alftonfields. 
 
 
 * Antidote againft Melancholy. A. D. 1661. ED. 

 
 236 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Well, my good companion, we have 
 had a lufty walk, that's true ; and now give me 
 thine hand, for here we are come to our inn. 
 
 Hoft. Gentlemen, my humble fervice to you 
 both. You muft be weary. 
 
 Painter. Let me tell you, I'm nigh exhauft- 
 ed, for I have never made fuch a march till 
 now ; but every thing I have feen hath exceed- 
 ed my hopes ; indeed, I am tranfported with 
 love towards your moorlands, and the River 
 Dove. 
 
 Hoft. I am happy to hear you fay fo. 
 
 Painter. And now let us take a light fupper, 
 and then to bed ; for I fee Mr. Marfh has pre- 
 pared a difh of trouts for us, fo let me ferve 
 you. 
 
 Angler. I'm quite willing : for, to fpeak the 
 truth, I'm no lefs weary than yourfelf ; and, 
 moreover, we have a long day before us to- 
 morrow ; for our purpofe is to fleep at Afli- 
 bourne. 
 
 Hoft. Gentlemen, I mall be forry to lofe your 
 company. I wifh I could detain you by the 
 Dove till Mr. Cotton's return ; and he'll be 
 grieved to hear how he has miffed the pleafant 
 acquaintance with fuch lovers of the angle. 
 
 Angler. And, I pray you, let him underftand 
 c .how w e fijhed his ftream by inches J and do not
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 forget our thanks to him for this liberty in his 
 abfence. 
 
 Painter. And how we were enchanted with 
 the fylvan profpe&s about his houfe and grounds, 
 and all the ornaments in that temple of his, de- 
 dicated to anglers. 
 
 Ho/I. Sirs, you may depend I (hall. 
 
 Angler. And, moreover, do you tell him how 
 we walked to Dove-head, and there graved on 
 a flat ftone that covers the fountain, the firft let- 
 ters of his and Mr. Walton's names, in honour 
 of their mutual friendlhip. 
 
 Hoft. Indeed! 
 
 Painter. Ay, as like as poffible to the cipher 
 that is over the fifhing-houfe. 
 
 Angler. And this out of refpecl: to him and 
 Mr. Walton ; and fo he may find that infcrip- 
 tion any day he is willing to travel thither. 
 
 Hoft. Sirs, I am not able to exprefs my thanks 
 for all your kind thoughts of my dear and ho- 
 nourable mafter : and becaufe you hold him in 
 this efteem, give me leave to prefent you fome 
 ferious verfes he compofed in the laft days of a 
 cold winter ; they are writ with his own hand, 
 and have never been in print. 
 
 Angler. Nay, Mr. Marfh, is it poffible you 
 are in earneft ? 
 
 Hojt. Sir, wait but a moment, and I'll go 
 
 237
 
 2 3 8 
 
 River Dove. 
 
 fetch them. 
 
 And here they are at your fervice. 
 
 Angler. Indeed I may not rob you of fuch a 
 treafure. 
 
 Hoft. Sir, my heart is overpowered. Here 
 I have preferved them for two years paft ; but 
 you are welcome, and none fo worthy to re- 
 ceive them as a gentleman that entertains fuch 
 thoughts of the writer. They will be fafe in 
 your good keeping, and I befeech you to take 
 them. 
 
 Angler. I know not what I fhould anfwer. 
 
 Hoft. Sir, they are freely yours. 
 
 Angler. A thoufand thanks, moft kind and 
 worthy Mr. Marfh, for fo precious a gift : it 
 {hall be preferved as a memento of thefe happy 
 hours we have fpent about Beresford Hall. 
 Look you, brother. 
 
 Painter. I wifh you joy. 
 
 Angler. I am in hafte to read them. 
 
 Painter. Pray do fo. I long to hear them. 
 
 Angler. I perceive they are verfes on 
 
 OLD AGE. 
 
 Why fhould fond man to his owne wrong, 
 A weary life feeke to prolong 
 By thofe detefted cheats of art, 
 That only add unto the fmart,
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 2 39 
 
 The growing malady and paine 
 Of life, of which wee fo complaine ? 
 As if there could bee a new way 
 To make things profper by decay ; 
 As if a tree fhowld wider fpread, 
 By loofing fap, its graceful head ; 
 Or higher towards heaven (hoot, 
 For being hollow att y e root. 
 Med'cine helps old men only fo, 
 As burnings are allay'd by fnow, 
 Which often makes us worfe endure, 
 Cheating the paine itt cannot cure ; 
 And to death only mends our pace, 
 As painting fooner fpoiles a face. 
 
 But fay wee could, when once grown old, 
 Our mines by fuch props uphold, 
 Who would, to his own peace untrue, 
 His leafe of mifery renew ? 
 The young, who in foft pleafures live, 
 May well folicite a reprieve, 
 When death does threaten, fince they doe 
 Nothing but life and pleafure know. 
 But they to whom living alone 
 Is hourely execution, 
 Should not evade methincks the cure 
 Of all the doloures they endure. 
 
 What, when cold cramps our limbs invade, 
 When nature's vifibly decay'd, 
 When all our youthful vigour's gone, 
 Sight, hearing, tafte, complexion 
 Are fled, and faded, when all fence, 
 Nay worfe, when all intelligence 
 (Which only human life does bleffe) 
 Is turn'd into forgettfulnefle,
 
 240 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Or fees but in a magic glafle, 
 The ayery fine young thing it was, 
 What is there then, O then I fay, 
 Showld make us longer wifh to ftay ? 
 
 'Tis not the palfey, nor the gout, 
 The tiflick, nor the numerous rout 
 Of lingering paines old men beft name, 
 Which we can rationally blame. 
 Old age itfelf is the difeafe, 
 Whofe wretched traine confifts of thefe. 
 For as health, vigour, beauty, grace, 
 Gayetie, and difpofedneffe, 
 Make up its fpritely equipage 
 T' our morning and meridian age ; 
 So is old age attended by 
 All forts of paine and mifery, 
 More faithful followers by farre 
 Than th' other brifke attendants are, 
 Who falfely with our fortunes fly : 
 Thefe never leave us 'till we dye. 
 
 Age is th' effeft of time, and courfe, 
 In which, alafle, there's no reffource ; 
 Art, that is fo ador'd, and great, 
 Can here but little glory gett, 
 Who, where faint nature does refufe 
 T' aflift, muft needs her credit loofe. 
 Phyfic itfelf, that fowv'raigne friende, 
 To humane kind muft miffe her end, 
 And fhort in her endeavour falls 
 With all her herbs and mineralls, 
 And but afflicls y e patient more, 
 In weakening what fhee can't reftore. 
 
 Ceafe then, old man, thy fate t'efchew, 
 As youth has had, give age itt's due,
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Lye downe, and dye, and fo make roome 
 For him whofe turne 'tis next to come 
 
 CHARLES COTTON. 
 
 Painter. They are excellent verfes ; but of 
 a melancholy caft. 
 
 Angler. The beft of us will fometimes be 
 opprefled with fad forebodings. Mr. Marfh, 
 you have laid a lading obligation on me. 
 
 Hojt. Sir, not another word, I befeech you ; 
 but if I might make fo bold, I have one requeft 
 to make of this gentleman who is fo fkilful a 
 limner. 
 
 Painter. What is it ? for truft me it is already 
 granted, if it's within my poor ability. 
 
 Hojl. Sir, it is that I might have a defign of 
 my mafter's fifhing-houfe, in black and white, 
 from your pencil. 
 
 Painter. Moft willingly, and I'm happy to 
 make any return for your civility to my bro- 
 ther. 
 
 Hojl. Sir, I thank you ; and here is an an- 
 cient letter of my late miftrefs, Mr. Cotton's 
 mother, that me once writ to the fteward at the 
 Hall ; and perhaps this gentleman will read it 
 aloud : and it is quite at your fervice, if you 
 will be pleafed to accept it. 
 
 Painter. Indeed, I am greatly beholden to 
 you. Now, brother, do you read the letter, 
 
 i i 
 
 241
 
 242 
 
 River Dove. 
 
 and I will draw a copy of the fifhing-houfe out 
 of my blank book. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart here it is : 
 
 4 HONEST WILL, 
 
 4 I wonder I heard not from you the laft 
 1 weeke. I fend you an accompt of my wants: 
 4 pray get fo much money as you can, and 
 4 brew the half-hogfhead of ftrong beare, and 
 4 put it into the little houfe' (that is the Flam- 
 1 beaux Tower you fa "iv) l and one hogfhead of 
 ' fmall, which will require four ftrikes of mault, 
 c 2 for the ftrong, and 2 for the fmall : and 
 4 I defire your wife to doe me the favoure as 
 4 to brew them herfelfe ; remember to do it 
 4 fpeedylie before hott weather comes, for I 
 ' mail be verie fpeedily in the countrie. Send 
 4 me Jack's height, that I may buy his coats 
 4 fitt, and the height of my owne chambre, that 
 4 I may fitt my bed. Defire your wyfe to looke 
 4 in the trunke where my work lies, and fend 
 4 mee one that is fully finifhed, and one that 
 c is not, of the quifhions in Irifh worke, and 
 4 the broad peece of quifhion canvis, 2 yards 
 c broad that is unwrought ; let mee know how 
 4 my garden grows, and tell John Gardiner 
 4 that if I do not finde my gardens in ample 
 4 maner when I come, that hee and I fhall not
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 243 
 
 c bee friends : bid him fend word if he would 
 4 have any thing fent down for them. Mr. 
 ' Upton remembers him to you and your wife, 
 ' and defires to know whether his meare bee 
 4 brought in bed or noe, and I defire to knowe 
 4 how my black damfell doth ; pray get your 
 c own horfes in good cafe, in cafe I fend for 
 c you, or you are to meet mee : remember mee 
 4 to all my friends, but efpecially to John Hayes, 
 4 John Baflet, Die Ball, and tell him I will 
 4 bring his cognizance with mee. Let us get 
 4 the blew coate where wee can ; defire your 
 4 nephew to looke in my trunk of books, and 
 4 there you mail finde a large booke in writing 
 4 with a parchment cover, blotied on one fide 
 4 with inke towards the nooke of it, its of pre- 
 4 ferving & conferving, & fend it up by this 
 4 bearer, by whome I think I fhall fend you 
 4 further newes of my coming downe, if Mr. 
 4 Parker be not the caufe ; but however doe 
 * what I have defired. Send me word what's 
 4 become of that gratious elfe Pud ; fo I reft, 
 
 * Your loving M rU 
 
 ' OLIVE COTTON. 
 
 4 my blefling to the two 
 4 comrades that keepe the
 
 244 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' rabbits, Jack & Bilburd. 
 
 ' Maye the 19 th 
 1650.' 
 
 1 For my truftie fervant 
 ' William Grindon at 
 * Beresford, this with 
 1 care & fpeede 
 
 1 Staffordfhere.' 
 
 Painter. What a primitive kindnefs of na- 
 ture there is in every line. I declare to you, 
 brother, it is more deferving to be treafured 
 up in an angler's cabinet than thofe Latin epif- 
 tles I have feen of famed Miftrefs Anna Maria 
 Shurman. 
 
 Angler. It is the letter of a careful and be- 
 nevolent miftrefs. 
 
 Ho/?. Ay, Sirs ! and that (he was indeed. 
 Alas ! if (he had lived long enough, it had been 
 happier for Mr. Cotton. But fhe was fnatched 
 away, like a too delicate flower, as fhe was.* 
 
 * She died at the age of 38, as appears from a poem 
 of Sir Afton Cockaine : 'On the death of his dear 
 ' coufm germaine, Mrs. Olive Cotton, who deceafed at 
 ' Beresford, in the 38th year of her age, and lies buried 
 ' at Bentley, by Ambourne.' ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Will it pleafe you, Sir, to receive this letter ? 
 for I have fome others by me. 
 
 Painter. I thank you heartily, Mr. Marfh, 
 and I may not decline a kindnefs fo freely 
 offered ; and here is my copy of the fifhing- 
 houfe, which is not worthy to be called a re- 
 turn for fuch a gift. 
 
 Hoft. Sir, my humble duty and thanks to 
 you, and if ever you come this way again, and 
 it pleafe God I live, you mail then find this 
 natural view of the fifhing-houfe glazed and 
 hanging up over my parlour chimney. 
 
 jfngler. Well, I hope fome happy day we 
 may all meet here again : and fo let us to bed, 
 and pleafant dreams to every one. 
 
 2 45
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The return of the Angler and Painter to Afti- 
 bourne, through Dove Dale. 
 
 Angler. 
 
 ELL, brother, now we are come 
 over the river into Derbyfhire, and 
 are arrived under Wolfscote Hill, 
 tell me what you thought of our 
 honeft hoft at Alftonfields, and his charges. 
 
 Painter. I know not which to admire moft, 
 the good cheer and beds that he gave us, or 
 the moderatenefs of the fcore. There we have 
 lived like brave gentlemen for three days, and 
 been moft civilly and handfomely treated, and 
 the charge was no more than I have paid for a 
 day's reckoning at an inn in Weftminfter. 
 
 Angler. If I may fpeak my real thoughts, 
 I have not met a more modeft and decently 
 behaved man than Herbert Marfhj fo I {hall 
 make honourable mention of him to all my 
 
 247
 
 248 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 friends that come to thefe parts, and recom- 
 mend them to take up their lodgings at the 
 King's Head. 
 
 Painter. And fo will I. But whither are 
 we going? what a defolation is here ! I wifh 
 we might return to that Vale of Tempe, by 
 Beresford Hall, and Mr. Cotton's fifhing-houfe : 
 for now, we are fcarce come a mile, and you 
 have only bald hills, with rubble ftones that 
 hang on the fides. 
 
 jfngler. It might all leem to be a dull kind 
 of place, but for the windings of the Dove, 
 that hurries fretfully away from this dreary re- 
 gion, c which jhe would not touch but for necef- 
 ' fity ;' and for her fake, I befeech you, excufe 
 the want of other graces hereabout : for, truft 
 me, by and by you fhall find fome mafter-pieces 
 of nature's work. So let us follow whither 
 {he leads the way : and now we are come to 
 Bigging Dale, that has the variety of fome tufts 
 of wood, and pointed crags. 
 
 Painter. I fee no beauties to marvel at ; but 
 I will put on my mailer's patience : and fee, 
 here are cobbling ftones acrofs the river, that 
 will give us a change, and a paflage into Staf- 
 fordfhire. 
 
 Angler. If you will be advifed, we fhall do 
 better on this fide.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 249 
 
 Painter. As you pleafe. But look : yonder 
 is a pair of water-birds, dabbling down the 
 ftream before us. I hope they are Alciones, 
 that is, our native king-fifhers ; or, as fome will 
 call them, Hoop-birds. 
 
 Angler. It is an even lay they are water- 
 oufels ; for you may always find them up and 
 down about the Dove : neverthelefs, they are 
 hard to come at. But wherefore defire to have 
 them Halcyons ? 
 
 Painter. Becaufe I have a fingular regard for 
 thofe birds, knowing them to be an emblem and 
 prognoftic of calmnefs ; and I am fure, thefe 
 days I have enjoyed you on the brink of the 
 Dove have been 4 Halcyon days ' for me. How 
 does the Sicilian mariner rejoice during the 
 time of the Alcyons fitting on their nefts ! for 
 then, as Pliny writes, the fea is not fo boifterous, 
 but more quiet than at other times. And yet, 
 you are to note, this bird is prohibited to the 
 Ifraelites, as unclean, in the book of Leviticus, 
 wherein it is rendered as the Lapwing ; but this 
 learned Sir Thomas Browne declares to be a 
 miftake. And the reafon for this divine prohi- 
 bition is 4 the magical virtues afcribed unto it 
 4 by the Egyptian nation ; for they fo highly 
 4 magnified the Halcyon in their fymbols, they 
 4 placed it on the head of their gods ; and Orus, 
 
 K K
 
 2 5 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 1 their hieroglyphic for the world, had the head 
 * of a Hoop-bird upon the top of his ftaff.' And 
 I may tell you certain other peculiars of this 
 famed water-fowl ; as that they make their 
 neft, and hatch their young, in the middle of 
 winter; and this neft they build fo as it may 
 float on the waves ; and becaufe Providence 
 inftrucls every moving creature with a fecret 
 inftinclive wifdom, they will faften it to fome 
 rock or border of the fea, by an artful flender 
 line, that the changing tides may not carry it 
 away from home. 
 
 Angler. Come, my brother, you are poetical ; 
 you do but magnify the nature of your Hal- 
 cyons, and amufe me with pleafant fables. 
 
 Painter. Nay, Sir, that is their own contri- 
 vance, and none of mine ; and you may believe 
 Ariftotle and Bafilius, when they declare that 
 the tempeftuous winds are hufhed into filence, 
 and the angry fea is becalmed, for fear they 
 fhould give any difturbance to this friend of 
 mariners, whilft they neftle their young ones. 
 And a learned Auguftine* monk aptly compares 
 this Halcyon to the Saviour of mankind, who 
 hath no fooner taken up His place in the foul, 
 than all the fwelling billows of this world's 
 
 * P. Auguftinus Chefheau, Orpheus Eucharifticus. ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 ftorms are changed into a holy quietnefs. There 
 is no longer any threatening of calamity, but a 
 fublime confidence : then the lowering clouds 
 pafs away before the beams of the glorious Sun 
 of Righteoufnefs^ and the pleafant gales breathe 
 nothing but peace and joy. Then the believer, 
 holding faith and a good confcience, meets with 
 no fhipwreck ; for Jefus c maketh the Jlorm a 
 4 calm^fo that the waves thereof are ftill ;' then 
 the Chriftian mariners c are glad becaufe they 
 1 be quiet : fo He bringeth them to their defer ed 
 c haven.'* 
 
 Angler. Oh ! that the Heavenly Halcyon 
 might be ever with us, to impart unto our un- 
 quiet thoughts His own divine calm ! Then the 
 tempeftuous whirlwind of our paflions fhould 
 be filenced, and we made capable to enjoy that 
 promife ' Peace I leave with you^ my peace I 
 ' give unto you : not as the world giveth^ give I 
 c unto you.'-\- 
 
 Painter. And thus be prepared for the im- 
 mortal joys laid up in ftore for the humble foul. 
 But there again you may mark them flitting 
 away before us ; and now they are alighted on 
 that great ftone in the middle of the ftream. 
 
 Angler. I fee them ; and I may tell you, for 
 
 * Pfalm cvii. 29, 30. f John xiv. 27. 
 
 2 5 I
 
 2 5 2 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 certain, they are water-oufels. Now would I 
 give two ducats for a gun ! for a dear friend of 
 mine, who is an angler, and has a fancy for all 
 kinds of birds, and is acquainted with their na- 
 ture, and feathers, and notes, defired me to 
 bring him home a water-oufel, if I chanced to 
 meet one, that he might fet it in his mufeum of 
 fluffed birds. And there is nothing in mode- 
 ration I would not do to pleafure him ; he is 
 fuch a civil, honeft brother of the angle. 
 
 Painter. As namely ? 
 
 Angler. He is one you have an acquaintance 
 with. 
 
 Painter. Pr'ythee his name, if he be a meek 
 angler. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, I may tell you, Francis 
 Mieris, whom I have heard you declare to be 
 one of the choice painters of Holland, bears the 
 fame initials. 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! then I can unravel your 
 enigma : it is your moft worthy kinfman, bound 
 to you not more by a near affinity than an an- 
 cient friendfhip, 
 
 that is, or ought to be, fomewhere in Oxford- 
 fhire : not many miles diftant from Fair Rofa- 
 mond's Bower in Woodftock Park.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. The fame : and if he had lived there 
 fome fifty years agone, he had been as deferving 
 to receive the dedication of THE SECRETS OF 
 ANGLING, teaching the choice/? tooles, baits, and 
 feafons, for the taking of any fijh, in Pond or 
 River, as Mr. Roger ^Jackfon's * worthy and 
 c refpe&ed friend, Mr. John Harborne of Tack- 
 4 ley, in the county of Oxford, Efquire :'* but 
 that he hath been referved to thefe times is one 
 of the joys of my life, for he is a {launch and 
 trufty friend, that will ftand by a man in the 
 day of his troubles. 
 
 Painter. But I knew not he was a lover of 
 angling ? 
 
 Angler. Marry is he : and fmce you are be- 
 come one of our fraternity, I could defire you 
 no greater pleafure than to fit by the fide of a 
 river in his company, and hear him make a 
 choice of paflages out of Mr. Walton's book j 
 and he efpecially loves that innocent converfa- 
 tion, and thofe fongs of the milkmaid and her 
 daughter ; which I hold to be a more rural and 
 engaging picture of primitive manners, than is 
 to be found in any writing : I will not make 
 an exception of brave Sir Philip Sydney's Ar- 
 cadia; or Will Shakfpeare's " Lover's Lament." 
 
 * See Note p. 28. ED. 
 
 2 53
 
 2 54 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. I wifh that friend were here what 
 pleafures he would find in Dove Dale ! 
 
 Angler. Ay, and next to that I wifli I now 
 had a letter he wrote me fome days before I 
 left my houfe, that I might give you the perufal 
 thereof; it was about an Otter hunt he faw 
 near to Guy's Cliff in Warwickshire ; and I 
 declare to you he pictured that Otter hunt to 
 my mind with all the naturalnefs of Mr. Wal- 
 ton, when he met his friend VENATOR at Am- 
 well Hill. And this I may tell you, he hath a 
 delicate hand on a fly rod, and knows more 
 fecrets of angling than moft others : and both 
 loves and endeavours the art of hufbandry, 
 that is worthy of an Englifh Gentleman's prac- 
 tice infomuch he is acquainted with moft of 
 Thomas Tuffer's ' Hundreth Good Pointes of 
 
 1 Hujlandrie.' But we are entered into 
 
 Mill Dale fo now, if you pleafe, we may pafs 
 into Staffordfhire by this bridge, over the river, 
 and then look out ; for yonder you may fee 
 fomething you have met before. 
 
 Painter. What is that ? 
 
 Angler. Why, Sir, have you forgotten the 
 Wheelbarrow Bridge ? and there is Hanfon 
 Toot on your left hand, and that flippery zig- 
 zag path which leads to Afhbourne. 
 
 Painter. And fo it is indeed ! there is the
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 very fpot where we caught our firft brace of 
 trouts ; but do not tell me we muft part with 
 the Dove fo foon. 
 
 Angler. Not for the world ! but rather walk 
 to Afhbourne along the river, where we fhall 
 find frefh occafions for pleafure and furprife 
 on both margins fo crofs the bridge, and look 
 you do not tumble. 
 
 Painter. Truft me, c I can go by myfelf.' 
 Why what a fine difplay of rocks ! We have 
 met with nothing like them for boldnefs ; they 
 are thrown about in a delightful confufion. 
 What natural arches are thofe cut in the cliff, 
 that falls perpendicular into the dell, and yon- 
 der high pinnacle which frauds alone on the 
 other fide ? 
 
 Angler. Thefe are called the c Dove Holes,' 
 and that is dignified with the name of the 
 c Shepherd's Abbey.' Now you are come to 
 
 now you fee crags on crags of all (hapes ; and 
 the Dove grows more proud and fwelling, 
 feeing herfelf to be ornamented with fuch land- 
 fkips. 
 
 Painter. And that is not to be wondered at : 
 you are as good as your promife, for I declare 
 this is one of the moft beautiful dales in all 
 
 2 55
 
 256 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 England. Let us tarry awhile, that I may 
 endeavour to fketch this delightful profpedt as 
 a memorial. 'Twill be a day to fpeak of here- 
 after. Every ftep I take I am more enamoured 
 of your river. 
 
 Angler. See yonder rock, on the other fide, 
 that has flipped from the mountain, and ftands 
 out with a look of defiance. 
 
 Painter. And which are thefe to the left 
 hand ? 
 
 Angler. One is the c Steeple Rock,' and the 
 other the 4 Watch-Tower.' 
 
 Painter. My pleafure is more than I can ex- 
 prefs. Think of the noblenefs of nature : what 
 tongue can articulate what pencil can defcribe 
 thefe combinations of a grand defign ? O Sir ! 
 think how God hath planted a paradife on earth, 
 for c bad man ' to refrefli himfelf in ; and times 
 and feafons, and woods and rocks, and rivers, 
 and the glorious fun in his tabernacle of the 
 heavens, all appointed for the delight of his 
 creatures ; fo that, turn whitherfoever they will, 
 their eyes cannot look off from a miracle : and 
 oh ! why is it that our hearts are not attunable 
 to thofe high hallelujahs which are fung to the 
 found of golden harps, from throne to throne, 
 by angels in heaven, who being l arrayed in 
 4 white garments with palms in their hands^ and
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 * crowns of gold on their heads ^Jing the fong of 
 ' the Lamb for ever:' this we know to be their 
 prefent glorious occupation ; man only has no 
 defire for fuch a tranfporting joy : he will for- 
 get God in the very midft of his great and mar- 
 vellous works. But I beg you pardon, Sir ! 
 I was carried beyond myfelf by thefe river 
 profpecls. 
 
 Angler. It is all very enchanting, and begets 
 in a fpiritual mind high thoughts of our Maker's 
 goodnefs and glory ; and now whilft you work 
 out your picture of the landfkip, I'll try to kill 
 a brace of trouts. And by and by, when we 
 are arrived lower down, we will recline our- 
 felves beneath a large flowering hawthorn tree 
 that I know of, and there you (hall put out 
 your angle-line to fifti for itfelf. 
 
 Painter. Agreed : and I have not feen a 
 river of fo much promife. 
 
 Angler. Look how the water crifps over the 
 flielving rocks, and is thrown back into the 
 eddies ; being, as Mr. Cotton fays, c fo Jlraight- 
 c ened in her courfe between the rocks ,' fhe has a 
 greater fwiftnefs than ever. 
 
 Painter. Well then, go you and fim down- 
 ward, and I will follow when I've made my 
 
 picture. How now, Sir ; how has it fared 
 
 with you ? tell me what luck. 
 
 2 57 
 
 L L
 
 2 5 8 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. I have caught two brace of trouts 
 and a fkipjack, that I put into the river again. 
 And now we are come to the great hawthorn 
 tree, that is worthy of note for its fpreading 
 branches. 
 
 Painter. So here let us reft our legs ; and 
 now I hold you to your promife, that my angle 
 fhould fifh for me at breakfaft time ; fo, by 
 your leave, I'll fit my tackling, that I may make 
 
 a trial underneath this broad cafcade. I 
 
 am prepared. 
 
 Angler. Now drop in your line flyly, and 
 beware you do not fplafti the water ; and then 
 come back to me, and I'll prepare breakfaft, 
 which we have honeftly earned by our two 
 hours' walk. Then we may drink a cup merrily, 
 and fing fongs in DOVE DALE. 
 
 Painter. I have done as you bid me, and put 
 my quill in a fecret place, where I promife my- 
 felf a trout. 
 
 Angler. Do not doubt it : and therein is the 
 great praife of angling, that hope is not only 
 reafonable, but is enjoined upon them that prac- 
 tife it ; and but for that, angling might be a dull 
 recreation. And now recline yourfelf under- 
 neath this hawthorn, and entertain your thoughts 
 with the profpecls I have brought you to. 
 
 Painter. Indeed, the delightful nefs of all I
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 fee, cannot be exprefled by words ; and I be- 
 feech you what great cavern is at the top of 
 that rock ? 
 
 Angler. That is c Reynard's Cave* it is an 
 admirable contrivance of nature, and if you 
 pleafe, we may clamber up, and pay mafter 
 Reynard a vifit in his Hall. 
 
 Painter. You will not eafily perfuade me to 
 that ; why, Sir, it is perpendicular ! 
 
 Angler. Well, well ; as you pleafe never- 
 thelefs you would find no difficulty worth the 
 naming. And yonder is a rock called l Pick- 
 ering Tor,' and that is the l Iron Cheft : 'but 
 come, take your cup ; and here is delicate meat, 
 fo fall to't. 
 
 Painter. It is excellent and now my fer- 
 vice to you and to that honeft angler we both 
 know of that meek friend of yours who de- 
 fcribed the hunting of the Otter, near to War- 
 wick, with fo eloquent a pen. 
 
 Angler. That is well remembered ; and may 
 he never want opportunity to take his recre- 
 ation in a clear ftream ; and now once more ; 
 for I muft drink to another that I love as my 
 own foul that ordained Prieft of our Holy 
 Church, one of the ornaments and the delight 
 of Merton College in Oxford. I may not break 
 out into an eulogium that his difpofition would 
 
 259
 
 260 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 rebuke, if he were prefent with us : but he can- 
 not deny me the joy to drink his health ; fo 
 join with me ! 
 
 Painter. Moft gladly fill up, Sir ! Where 
 was he laft heard of? 
 
 dngler. Near to the Rialto at Venice ; but 
 he now walks in his leifure about the Colof- 
 faeum in Rome, or the Baths of Titus, or it 
 may be in Dionyfius's Ear at Syracufe, in Sicily; 
 for thither he purpofed in his mind to go. 
 
 Painter. And I joy to think that, as in fome 
 other concurrences, fo in his travels he is like to 
 Sir Henry Wotton, who 4 laid afide his books' 
 (that he loved fo well) 4 and betook himfelf to 
 1 the ufeful library of travel^ and a more general 
 4 converfation with mankind^ to adorn his mind 
 4 and to purchafe the rich treafure of foreign 
 4 knowledge.' And this is declared of Sir Henry 
 Wotton, by Mr. Izaak Walton, in his life of 
 that excellent fcholar. And may your, no lefs 
 learned and efteemed, kinfman have all his 
 wifhes : for thefe I know to be full of mode- 
 ratenefs, peace and contentment, and to have 
 their beginning and ending in his blefled Maf- 
 ter's fervice. 
 
 Angler. That is true : and fo, here's a diftant 
 health to thee, 
 
 4 HENRICE, MI OCELLE,'
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 from the banks of Dove to Tiber. 
 
 Painter. Salveto ! c Henrice^ ml ocelle.' 
 
 Angler. As Sir Henry Wotton was called 
 by that learned Italian ALBERICUS GENTILIS, 
 and by divers of Sir Henry's deareft friends, 
 and many other perfons of note during his ftay 
 in the Univerlity.* And now, brother, do you 
 look and fee if you have chanced to make a 
 catch. 
 
 Painter. How now? my float has difap- 
 peared ! Truft me I have a knabble there is 
 a large trout has taken me. I thought that was 
 a likely fall fee how he turns and wriggles, 
 and how he throws off tuggingly. Here is an 
 angler's delight ! and all this on the margin of 
 the Dove ! 
 
 Angler. Beware of him ; thus 
 
 Painter. By your leave, Sir ! let me have 
 all the honour to myfelf : fo, fo now he dives 
 down, and up again with a leap ; look at his 
 twiftings and turnings ! 
 
 Angler. Ay, he'll foon give over. There, 
 now we may net him, and a fine fifh he is ; 
 not lefs than two pounds weight. What would 
 your mafter Walton fay to this ? 
 
 Painter. I hope he would applaud me. 
 
 * Walton's Life of Sir Henry Wotton. 
 
 26l
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Come, try for another; this is a 
 likely hole. Look you, there's another bite ; 
 now check him ah ! he's broke away. 
 
 Painter. Indeed he has : I'm forry I loft him. 
 I'll try again look you ! another ! now, Sir 
 tumbler, you may do your worft. 
 
 Angler. Point the top of your rod to thofe 
 cliffs ; you are all right ; fee how he {hakes 
 the tackle, give him line, for he's a ftrong fifh. 
 
 Painter. Truft me, he's bigger than the laft; 
 the water is fo clear you may fee him ftruggle : 
 now he drives againft the ftream. 
 
 Angler. Turn him back, or you may lofe him 
 behind that ftone. 'Tis well done c why what 
 c a dangerous man are you!" 1 here's the net, 
 and now he is landed ! 
 
 Painter. I thank you. This is a fport in- 
 deed ! O the contentment of happy anglers^! 
 how many years I have loft fince you firft in- 
 vited me to go a-fifhing : but I was then deaf 
 to your perfuaftons, and I would never believe 
 you. Well, I declare it hath a gaynefs that 
 is admirable. But come, I would not be fo 
 felfifh as to wim for more, until I fee you 
 handle a trout. 
 
 Angler. Well ; let us try lower down. But 
 firft of all let us have a fong ; and do you begin. 
 
 Painter. What fhall I fing ?
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. Let it be that fonnet to the fpring in 
 Sir John Davies's Aftrea c Earth now is green, 
 4 and heaven is blue.' 
 
 Painter. Well and fo it (hall. 
 
 ' E-arth now is green, and heaven is blue 5 
 L-ively fpring which makes all new, 
 J-olly fpring doth enter ; 
 S-weet young funbeams do fubdue 
 A-ngry aged winter. 
 B-lafts are wild, and feas are calm, 
 E-v'ry meadow flows with balm, 
 T-he earth wears all her riches ; 
 H-arrnonious birds fing fuch a pfalm 
 A-s ear and heart bewitches. 
 R-eferve, fweet fpring, this nymph of ours, 
 E-ternal garlands of thy flowers, 
 G-reen garlands never wafting ; 
 I-n her fhall laft our ftate's fair fpring, 
 N-ow and for ever flourifhing 
 A-s long as heav'n is lafting !' 
 
 Angler. I thank you, and now becaufe you 
 have fung thefe cheerful verfes, I'll give you a 
 fong, ' apt both for viols and voices,' by John 
 Wilbye. 
 
 Painter. Come then ! and fing it finely. 
 
 Angkr. I'll do my beft to pleafe you. 
 
 Happy ftreams, whofe trembling fall, 
 With ftill fummer foftly gliding, 
 
 Happy birds, whofe chirping call 
 With fweet melody delighting, 
 
 263
 
 264 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Hath moved her flinty and relentlefs heart 
 
 To liften to your harmony, 
 And fet fecurely in thefe downs apart, 
 Enchanted with your melody. 
 
 Sing on and carol forth your glee, 
 She grants you leave her ' rays to fee.' 
 Happy were I could love fo delight her ; 
 But aye, alas ! my love doth defpite her. 
 
 Painter. An exceeding fweet melody, and 
 I befeech you fing it over again ; and after that 
 I fhall be ready to go with you. So I like it 
 even better than at firft. 
 
 Angler. Come now, let us pack up the wallet, 
 and take our walk. 
 
 Painter. I am all ready. But what is here ? 
 we are come to a ftop. 
 
 dngler. Away with you : 'tis a found footing 
 at bottom, and fcarce knee deep. 
 
 Painter. Halt, good Sir ; you do not expect 
 me to walk into the river. 
 
 Angler. If you are refolved againft it, here 
 you may ftay ; for you fee how the river wafhes 
 the very bafement of this perpendicular rock, 
 and climb you cannot. Come, Sir, fol- 
 low me bravely : it is but ' a /pit and ajlrlde;' 
 or I'll carry you mounted a pick-back. 
 
 Painter. O ! let it not be faid. ' What 
 4 man dare, I dare ;' fo lead on, I'll trufs up my 
 hofe, and be after you. Ah me ! I was up to
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 my knees ; but now I am well paft. 
 
 Angler. If you will be a fifher, never fear, 
 for it is your proper element : but, Sir, did you 
 hear that trout by the further bank ? 
 
 Painter. You may be fure I did, and faw 
 him too. 
 
 Angler. Well then, I muft needs in and 
 wade, if I would twift my fly thither. 
 
 Painter. Truft me, I am not coming after 
 you. I find nothing of that in my mafter's 
 book ; he declares, c how the very fitting by the 
 1 river's fide is not only the quieteft and fitteft 
 c place for contemplation, but will invite an 
 ' angler to it ;' and think you, he would bring 
 his fcholar to fit under an honeyfuckle hedge, 
 and exprefs his cheerfulnefs when he reclined 
 himfelf on c the primrofe bank,' if he meant 
 him to wabble in the water ? and I befeech 
 you, call to mind thofe thoughts of his, which 
 he turned into verfe, 4 when he fat on the 
 c grafs, and there wifhed to meditate his time 
 c away.' 
 
 Angler. 'Tis all very true ; neverthelefs, Mr. 
 Walton himfelf muft at fometimes be contented 
 to wet his boots, if he would fill his pannier out 
 of the Dove ; wherefore, delicate Mr. PICTOR, 
 I now leave you to meditate on the filent plea- 
 fures of this flowery bank ; 
 
 M M 
 
 265
 
 266 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 
 So fit you ftill, 
 
 
 And watch your quill, 
 
 
 While I the trout entangle. 
 
 
 Painter. That will I do ; and you may be 
 
 
 as big-hearted and get as wet as you lift : but 
 
 
 harkye, Sir ; be not over-confident, or you may 
 
 
 hafte only to ftumble. Call to your remem- 
 
 
 brance Mr. Boyle's Treatife of ' ANGLING IM- 
 
 
 1 PROVED TO SPIRITUAL USES,' how Eugenius, 
 
 
 having c efpied a convenient nook for his angling, 
 
 
 c invited his friend Lindamor to Jhare the ad- 
 
 
 1 vantage with him, and began to walk thither- 
 
 
 4 ward along the river's brink ? but he had not 
 
 
 4 marcht very far when chancing to tread on a 
 
 
 1 place, where the courfe of the water had worn 
 
 
 1 off the bank, and made it hollow underneath, he 
 
 
 'found the earth fault er under him, and could not 
 
 
 4 hinder his feet from flipping down with the turf 
 
 
 4 that betrayed him.'* 
 
 
 Angler. I do remember : and if that fhould 
 
 
 chance to be my predicament, I hope you would 
 
 
 have the civility of Lindamor, that * catch t hold 
 
 
 4 of him, and drew him to the firm land' 
 
 
 Painter. O Signor Pefcatore, doubt not my 
 
 
 charity, though I might not deny myfelf the 
 
 
 * Occafional Reflexions by the Honourable Robert 
 
 
 Boyle. 1665. ED.
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 267 
 
 fame liberty that Honourable Mr. Boyle took 
 
 
 with his friend Eugenius, c to make himfelf merry 
 
 
 c a while with the difajler when he found it to 
 
 
 c be harmlefs.' 
 
 
 Angler. Well well, Sir, I give you leave ; 
 
 
 and let him laugh that wins, I am not afraid of 
 
 
 a fomerfault if a good fifh chop at my fly. 
 
 
 Painter. Farewell then : and I'll go lower 
 
 
 down and pleafe myfelf. 
 
 
 Angler. Ay, good brother, do fo ; and pr'y- 
 
 
 thee reach me the landing net before you go. 
 
 
 Painter. There it is, and I wifh you may 
 
 
 have fport. 
 
 
 Angler. Look you, Sir j I have a fifh ; 'tis a 
 
 
 fmall one, I grant you. 
 
 
 Painter. Do. you call that a fifh? he's a 
 
 
 piccolo a pifciculus ; and liften methinks I 
 
 
 heard him fpeak. 
 
 
 Angler. Speak ? mayhap thou takeft him to 
 
 
 be c Vox PISCIS, or the BOOK-FISH, contayning 
 
 
 c three treatifes which were found in the belly 
 
 
 c of aCod-fifh in Cambridge market on Midfum- 
 
 
 ' mer Eve laft.' * And fince thou art fo imbued 
 
 
 * The incident here referred to, of a book found in 
 
 
 the belly of a cod-fifti, taken on the Norfolk coaft, and 
 
 
 brought to Cambridge market, on Midfummereve, 1626, 
 
 
 is no lefs true than ftrange. Fuller attefts the fa6l in 
 
 
 his Worthies of England, folio, p. 359, and fays he was 

 
 268 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 with fifh-learning, I befeech you to tell me 
 whether this be a trout, or what other fifh I 
 have caught ? 
 
 Painter. I know not if it be the Dog-fijh, 
 the Sea-calfe^ the Porpus or Hog-fijh, or the 
 AJJe-fiJh called in Latin Afellus: or perchance 
 it may be the Monk-fijh the Mere-man or the 
 Mermaid: all which I remit to your better 
 judgment. But liften, I fay ; for though I am 
 not fo wife a philofopher as JEfop^ I have, me- 
 thinks, fuddenly imparted to me his noted intel- 
 ligence of fames' language, and certes I hear 
 this one fpeak. 
 
 Angler. Well then, will it pleafe your mar- 
 vellous wifdom to be our mutual interpreter, 
 and give me the fubftance of this learned fifti's 
 foliloquy ? 
 
 Painter. It is no foliloquy ; for his addrefs 
 is to yourfelf, and feeing (or it may be feeling) 
 how you are taking the hook out of his gills 
 
 in Cambridge at the time : and in Parr's Life and Let- 
 ters of Archbifhop Ufher, folio, p. 34.5, is a letter from 
 his Grace to Dr. Samuel Ward, dated 3oth June, 1626, 
 in anfwer to his communication of the fame faft. I 
 have myfelf feen a copy of one of thefe treatifes, in 
 ' fexto dfdmOy printed in black letter, and entitled ' The 
 ' Preparation to the Croffe and to Death, and of the 
 ' Comfort under the Croffe and Death.' John Frith, 
 who fuffered martyrdom in 1533, was the author. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 with a moft relentlefs love, and are going to put 
 him into your bafket, he opens his mouth, and 
 in a pathetical voice implores your pity, making 
 his humble fuit that you would be pleafed to 
 throw him into the river again, by reafon he 
 is young and infignificant, and not fo well worth 
 your while as he fliall be fome time hereafter, 
 if you catch him when he is grown more con- 
 fiderable. 
 
 Angler. Oh ho ! Go to Go to thou art 
 a wag ; and I befeech you give my duty to him 
 in the fame learned hidden language which he 
 hath fo eloquently pleaded in ; and tell him I 
 am not one of thofe fools who quit a certainty 
 for an uncertainty ; and that a c fifli in the 
 pannier's worth two in the pond.' But ftay 
 becaufe he is a grayling, and not a trout, I'll 
 e'en put him in again, and let him grow till 
 Chriftmas for Mr. Cotton's amufement. But 
 now look you, brother, faw you that great fim 
 leap from the water ? 
 
 Painter. I did ; he looked as big as a falmon ; 
 give him the temptation of your fly. 
 
 Angler. Truft me. There he is, I have him 
 faft. So, fo, Matter BullyhufF, you are not like 
 the laft ; you are for a hard bout, I fee. Ah, 
 ah ! this is a trial of ftrength, and I fear for my 
 tackling. 
 
 269
 
 270 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. In with him, Sir. 
 
 Angler. Nay, let me be gentle. Look you, 
 that was his laft ftruggle ; there he lies his length 
 on the water. So, I have him, and he is full 
 eighteen inches long. Well, Mr. Painter ! what 
 fay you now to my Dove ? 
 
 Painter. I declare to you it is all a bewitch- 
 ment : my tongue is ready to praife every next 
 turning of the river more than the other ; and 
 I fcarce know which to like beft, this angling, 
 or the landfkips. Look you ! there again are 
 rocks fpringing up like fteeples on this fide, and 
 on that : it is all full of furprifes. 
 
 Angler. Thofe rocks are called the c Tiffing- 
 ' ton Spires ;' for that retired village lies but the 
 diftance of a walk to the left, pafling through 
 Bentley that you know of; and here are two 
 rocks that have flided from the cliff, and have 
 thruft themfelves into the river ; they are known 
 to be c The Brothers,' and fo I have brought 
 you within a view of Thorpe Cloud. 
 
 Painter. Is that Thorpe Cloud ? 
 
 Angler. None other, believe me. 
 
 Painter. Well, I declare ! he is more change- 
 able than a Proteus ; for here he looks like a 
 beheaded cone. 
 
 Angler. And now, brother, you are come to- 
 wards the end of the Dale.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter, Tell me not this fad news : I may 
 not believe it ! or if it be true indeed, let us re- 
 cline ourfelves on thefe banks by the ftream, 
 and meditate for an hour or two, and angle and 
 fmg, and angle again ; and after that beguile the 
 time with fome paflages out of Mr. Walton's 
 book. Or, if we muft needs depart, let us firft, 
 'fit down by the water s^ and hang our harps 
 upon the willows^ and weep. 
 
 Angler. I am charmed to think how thefe 
 fweet profpects have engaged and fixed your 
 affections ; and how you are now become a pro- 
 feffed angler, and how at fome future time you 
 may defire to take another walk on the banks of 
 my River Dove. But, I befeech you, climb 
 with me to the top of this acceflible rock, that 
 is called by the country-folk here about, c The 
 Lover's Leap:' there you may look back on 
 an upward profpect of the Dove, that is more 
 remarkable than any other you have feen. And 
 after that, you fhall explore fome quiet nooks 
 and corners by other ftreams, and hear fome- 
 thing marvellous I have to tell you of. 
 
 Painter. Well, I am content to follow your 
 footfteps wherever you are pleafed to lead me. 
 Angler. And now we have fcrambled up, 
 let us fit on the grafs, and tell me what you 
 think ? 
 
 271
 
 272 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. I know not what to think or fay. 
 Where fhall all thefe wonders end ! here is one 
 of the moft enchanting furveys that this or any 
 other county in England can exhibit. 
 
 Angler. Do you obferve how the Dale is 
 drawn out to the greateft length poffible ? for 
 paffing back again by thofe ' Tiffington Spires,' 
 and the two 4 Brothers,' and the rocks above 
 4 Reynard's Cave,' the eye may look almoft as 
 far as c the Shepherd's Abbey ; ' and all the way 
 along, an exceeding number of pellucid water- 
 falls, and other varieties of the river make this 
 vale an excellent fubject for contemplation. 
 
 Painter. And the cliffs on either fide of the 
 valley are adorned with fhady woods, and a fin- 
 gular combination of natural beauties. 
 
 Angler. Come then, good brother, let us go 
 down again, and take our walk along the ftream 
 to the right hand, as it flows between Thorpe 
 Cloud and that oppofite hill ; and here are 
 fome leaping ftones, where we may now crofs 
 into Staffbrdmire, and part company with our 
 Dove. 
 
 Painter. I am forry to hear it. 
 
 Angler. But only for awhile, till we light 
 on her again in fome meadows lower down, and 
 then find her fwelled by other rivers that may 
 pafs for wonders.
 
 'The River Dove. 273 
 
 Painter. Indeed ! but what is here ? Marry, 
 Sir, I thought not to come again fb quickly to 
 the Dove ; methinks fhe has taken us unaware. 
 
 Angler. This is not the Dove, but the river 
 Manifold ; and now do you follow me to the 
 left hand, where I may bring you to a moft 
 fhady retired fpot imaginable. 
 
 Painter. How ! another rapid fpring, that 
 fuddenly ftarts into life, and in a few yards is a 
 handfome ftream ! Let us recline ourfelves 
 here awhile. 
 
 Angler. I am quite willing ; and methinks, 
 for a near fylvan profpecl, we have feen none 
 better fmce we left Pike Pool ; for here you 
 have a thick grove of trees, and fuch a calm- 
 nefs as makes it a moft enchanting retreat ; and 
 the murmuring waters of this infant brook, with 
 their harmonious cadency. 
 
 Painter. And fee how the river Manifold 
 hurries away, rejoicing as it were in her li- 
 berty. 
 
 Angler. And let me tell you, with greater 
 reafon than you know of. 
 
 Painter. How mean you ? 
 
 Angler. Of that hereafter ; but fee, there are 
 the lowing cattle come from the meadows to 
 drink ; therefore, I befeech you, compofe them 
 into a landfkip. 
 
 N N
 
 2/4 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. You fhall fee prefently. there 
 
 1 have given you the milkmaid's mother, 
 
 with her milch kine, and there is 4 honeft Maud- 
 4 lin' herfelf, who fung that fweet fong to Mr. 
 Walton and his friend VENATOR ; 
 
 ' Come live with me, and be my love, 
 ' And we will all the pleafures prove, 
 ' That valleys, groves, or hills, or field, 
 ' Or woods, and fteepy mountains yield ! ' 
 
 Angler. Bravely done ! On my word, this 
 piture takes a breathing of life from your pen- 
 cil; 
 
 ' Where we will fit, upon the rocks, 
 ' And fee the {hepherds feed their flocks, 
 ' By mallow rivers, to whole falls 
 ' Melodious birds fing madrigals!' 
 
 not Claude Lorraine, nor Kuyp himfelf, could 
 furpafs that whole picture, for it has the very 
 ftamp of nature. 
 
 Painter. Enough, enough ; let us be going, 
 and what have we here ? A bridge, and a pretty 
 village with a little parifh church ! Where are 
 we come to ? 
 
 jfngler. I have now brought you to Ham 
 Church : and fee the door is haply open ; fo 
 let us accept this accidental invitation. And 
 now you are to note, this is the ancient tomb 
 of good Bertram, who there lies (fo much of
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 275 
 
 him as could perifh) and waits for that joyful 
 day of the refurreclion, when all the holy angels 
 and the fpirits of faints (hall meet the coming of 
 our Lord in the clouds of heaven. 
 
 Painter. And here is the carved altar that 
 may put the villagers in mind of the Supper of 
 the Lord, and inftil into them an earneft defire 
 to partake of the Holy Communion, that they 
 may eat and drink, and feed on Him in their 
 hearts by faith, and be thankful. 
 
 Angler. And fee this old font in ftone, which 
 hath a facramental charm ; for therein the peo- 
 ple from age to age have brought their fons and 
 daughters to be baptized into Chrift's flock, 
 and be regenerated, and made children of God 
 and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven. And 
 I may take upon me to fay that all thefe things 
 make this church the centre-point of the fecret 
 reverence and holy affections of the peaceful 
 villagers, lifting them up to a revelation of the 
 
 next world. But, feeing how time wears 
 
 apace, I will conduct you forth again: and 
 now look at this high hill, fhaped like an am- 
 phitheatre, and beneath is the rocky bed of a 
 
 river. 
 
 Painter. A river ! why here is not a drop 
 of water to wet a fly's wing ! 
 
 Angler. That is true. I faid not a river, but
 
 276 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 the bed of a river, and of fuch an one as, had 
 (he a tongue, might declare many rarities (he 
 has beheld, and dark doings of that prifon-houfe, 
 where (he was lately detained againft her will : 
 nay, for any thing I know, {he might have fur- 
 nimed to that ftern regicide, Mr. John Milton, 
 or the great Dante, fome arguments for another 
 poem of the {hades below. 
 
 Painter. How ! you are grown enigmatical- 
 
 dngler. Come, then, ftep with me to this 
 rock in Mr. Port's garden : here is a well in the 
 rock ; fo tell me what you fee ? 
 
 Painter. I fee a great ftream pouring itfelf 
 out in circling eddies from the ground. 
 
 Angler. Now mark, that is the river Hamps ; 
 and here fhe joins herfelf to another within a 
 few yards diftance. 
 
 Painter. A fecond ftream ! and bigger than 
 the firft, burfts forth in a whirlpool ! 
 
 Angler. True ; and you are to note this is 
 the river Manifold. See how joyfully {he re- 
 ceives that lefler Hamps, and then flows away 
 with her to the fhady grove of trees, where you 
 and I fo lately reclined ourfelves. Truft me 
 they are glad to breathe the air once more, and 
 to play their gambols in the meadows, after their 
 long imprifonment j for it is a known truth, 
 thefe rivers have made an underground journey
 
 T'he River Dove. 
 
 within the natural caverns of the earth, for fome 
 miles diftance. 
 
 Painter. Impoflible ! I would not be fo 
 uncivil to difbelieve any thing you fay ; but as 
 touching your Staffbrdmire rivers, you take a 
 traveller's privilege to be marvellous. 
 
 Angler. Well, well ; I perceive you think 
 this to be all a fable ; yet it's no lefs true be- 
 caufe it is a wonder : for the laft time I came 
 this way I examined into the nature of it ; and, 
 as I am an honeft angler, I faw the very inlet, 
 underneath fome high rocks, about Whetton 
 Mill, where the waters of the Manifold are 
 gurged and' loft to every eye : and the fame of 
 Hamps, that is received into its fubterraneous 
 channels, near to a place called the Water- 
 houfes. And fo they take their circuit through 
 myfterious fecret caves and grottoes, which no 
 man has explored, till they make their happy 
 efcape out of imprifonment into thefe gardens, 
 and, as you are now a witnefs, embrace with 
 mutual gratulations, and hurry themfelves away 
 to tell their dark adventures to the matchlefs 
 Dove. 
 
 Painter. Well, I am glad that is the place 
 of their fhelter ; and I am enchanted with this 
 romance of the rivers : for, indeed, all the fur- 
 rounding profpeft is fit to be called a fairy land. 
 
 277
 
 2 7 8 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 There is Thorpe Cloud maintains himfelf 
 proudly, and this circle of oppofite hills, and 
 the church, with its ancient porch and tracery 
 of windows, all of painted glafs, befide Mr. 
 Port's manfion-houfe, and his ornamental gar- 
 dens. 
 
 Angler. It is indeed all very fine ; but it's 
 time to be gone, fo let us follow thefe rivers till 
 we are come to the bridge. See, here it is, and 
 now we may crofs over and walk by the right 
 bank of the Manifold ; and fo we are once more 
 come to the ftream that we both love better 
 than any. 
 
 Painter. Is this the Dove ? 
 
 Angler. The fame ; fhe is juft from the foot 
 of Thorpe Cloud, by yonder channel to the 
 right hand ; and now that we are arrived at 
 this high bank, look again upon the Jandfkip. 
 There the Manifold joins itfelf to the Dove, 
 and there are thofe meadows, which ' are too 
 c pleafant to be looked upon, but only on holi- 
 ' days ; ' and fee the mountains that are now 
 darker than they were two hours agone, which 
 is our warning that we are not yet come to 
 Afhbourne ; fo thither away. 
 
 Painter. As you pleafe, brother; but re- 
 member, on this only condition, that we walk 
 on the brink of the Dove, as far as we may.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Angler. That is a fhort pleafure ; for here is 
 another bridge will bring us into Derbyfhire ; 
 and now methinks I fee Mapleton Church be- 
 fore us ; fo we muft take our farewell of Dove. 
 
 Painter. Alas the day ! 
 
 Angler. Well, well ; let us catch fome trouts, 
 and then be going. 
 
 Painter. Ay, fo we will. Look you, Sir, 
 my tools are fitted. 
 
 Angler. So foon ! then ply your work each 
 for a brace. 
 
 Painter. It is agreed. I will this way down 
 to the ftream. 
 
 Angler. So be it ; and I for yonder bent, 
 where the water runs crifping. 
 
 Painter. Away with you ! I'll lay the odds 
 on Mafter Walton's cork and bait, againil Mr. 
 Cotton's fly. 
 
 Angler. Done the wager ? 
 
 Painter. He that takes the firft brace fhall 
 mix a cup of good Canary at Mapleton, and the 
 other fhall pay the fcores without grudging. 
 
 Angler. I am content fo do your worft 
 
 Painter. Well, good brother, what fport ? I 
 have caught but one, and that's a troutlet. 
 
 Angler. Indeed ! look you, here is a couple 
 
 of big ones. 
 
 Painter. Ah ! well I'm but a prentice in 
 
 279
 
 280 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 the art : I confefs I've loft my wager, and am 
 ready to pay the forfeit. 
 
 Angler. Well : that's like an angler, honeftly 
 fpoken fo let us away. 
 
 Painter. But make me this promife, that 
 we may (God willing) come hither again, next 
 fummer, a-fiming ; and fo read that book of 
 Mr. Walton, whom I love better than ever I 
 did, becaufe you have taught me how many 
 pleafures are to be found in his recreation of 
 angling. 
 
 Angler. Truft me, I {hall want no perfua- 
 fion to walk in your company by the Dove, 
 in the merry month of May, and then do no- 
 thing but angle and rejoice, as you know we 
 have done thefe laft days, and c fat as quietly 
 4 and as free from cares, under hawthorn trees 
 4 and rocks, as Virgil's Tityrus and his Meliboeus 
 4 did beneath their broad beach tree:' fo fays 
 Mr. Walton ; and now let me read you thefe 
 natural thoughts out of his book. Here it is : 
 4 No life, my honeft fcholar, no life fo happy 
 4 and fo pleafant as the life of a well governed 
 4 angler ; for when the lawyer is fwallowed up 
 4 with bufinefs, and the ftatefman is preventing 
 4 or contriving plots, then we fit on cowflip 
 4 banks, hear the birds fing, and pofTefs our- 
 4 felves in as much quietnefs as thefe filent filver
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 ftreams, which we now fee glide fo quietly 
 4 by us. Indeed, my good fcholar, we may 
 4 fay of angling, as Dr. Boteler faid of ftraw- 
 1 berries, " Doubtlefs God could have made a 
 1 " better berry, but doubtlefs God never did ;" 
 1 and fo (if I might be judge,) God never did 
 1 make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation 
 ' than angling.' 
 
 Painter. Every word is true. And what a 
 thankful heart my mafter has ! 
 
 Angler. Ay, truly ; and hear how he per- 
 fuades every man to thankfulnefs ; he faid to 
 his companion, 4 Let us not forget to praife God 
 4 for the innocent mirth and pleafure we have 
 4 enjoyed fince we have met together. What 
 4 would a blind man give to fee the pleafant 
 4 rivers, and meadows, and flowers, and foun- 
 4 tains we have looked upon, fince we met to- 
 4 gether ! ' And now we are come to Mapleton, 
 and here's a clean alehoufe ; and the hoft is a 
 modeft man, and hath a fine fmooth bowling- 
 green ; fo before we go back to Afhbourne, let 
 us reft awhile, and refrefh ourfelves with the 
 cup you are to pay for. Come, hoft, bring us 
 a bottle of that Canary wine you gave me the 
 laft time I was this way in company with a 
 gentleman fifher; and remember the lemon 
 ftuck round about with fpices, and fome of that 
 
 o o 
 
 28l
 
 282 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 fweet cake, that we may be merry with difcre- 
 tion, as all true anglers are wont to be. There 
 is a large trout for our civil hoftefs, with my 
 fervice to her. And now, brother, let us walk 
 into the garden, that is fo neat and handfome ; 
 here you have a various herbal, fit for a country 
 houfe-wife, like our hoftefs : here is hyflbp, 
 marjory, and penny-royal, and thyme, and all 
 kinds of fruit-trees. 
 
 Painter. It is all very good, and here is the 
 bowling-ground ; it looks like a green velvet. 
 Look, how exceeding fmooth ; how the bowls 
 glide along ! Where is the jack ? Come, let us 
 play at bowls till the Nedlar is ready. 
 
 Angler. Agreed : there, I have fet the jack ; 
 now do you bowl firft. 
 
 Painter. Nay, after you ; fo, fo, mafter, you 
 are fhort of the jack : look, look, mine is the 
 neareft. 
 
 Angler. Nay, it is a meafuring caft ; but here 
 goes one will overlay him. Pifh ! I have fhot 
 him over wide he had an untrue bias. 
 
 Painter. Well, then ; here's another. 
 
 Angler. That was curioufly pitched : now for 
 a laft endeavour. Ah, me ! that has knocked 
 your firft bowl to the jack : I am fure he was 
 wrong biafled. 
 
 Painter. Well, I thank you ; and fo, let me
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 try this ; and now another. 
 
 Angler. The game is yours. 
 
 Painter. And here comes the hoft. Let us 
 have our repaft under this yew tree, that is not 
 lefs than a hundred years old ; here is a table, 
 and fettles ready prepared. 
 
 Angler. With all my heart, for it feems a 
 pleafant arbour. Come, Sir, fill the glafles. 
 
 Painter. The liquor is exceedingly good : 
 and this even Mr. Walton and Mr. Cotton 
 would declare, if they were cup-and-can with us. 
 I doubt not but they are acquainted with this 
 ' boneft ale-houfej and have refted themfelves 
 on thefe fettles, after a day's riming in the 
 Dove, and been refrefhed with a cup of good 
 barley wine, and fung Old Rofe together, and 
 played at bowls on this green turf. Do you 
 remember that bowling ground by the Tower ? 
 Think what a choice profpecl: was there ! On 
 one fide the fifhing-houfe, and on another the 
 manfion that we looked over fo pleafantly. 
 
 Angler. That was indeed a charming prof- 
 peel: ! Then have you forgot the flower garden 
 at the foot of the Tower, and Mr. Walton's and 
 Mr. Cotton's portraits, and all the landfkips in 
 the fifhing-houfe, which you painted in your 
 book; and after that Pike Pool, where you 
 landed that big trout ; and the great Hall, and
 
 284 
 
 River Dove. 
 
 your mafter Walton's chamber ? 
 
 Painter. No more, no more, left I forget 
 all difcretion, and, retracing my footfteps, hie 
 me back to Beresford. O ! that place is a 
 delight for innocent anglers. There a man is 
 raifed to an excefs of pleafure ; he may go 
 forth in the morning and hear the birds ' warble 
 ' forth their ditties : ' the rocks, and the woods, 
 and the merry ftreams are the books he reads 
 in ; the fun, and the clouds, and the wind are 
 his oracles to confult ; and the fpeckled trout 
 is his play-fellow, that makes her gambols and 
 her fomerfaults for his entertainment. Call you 
 this an idlenefs ? It were a pretty treafon to 
 deny that it is the moft refined, gentle, and gay- 
 fome recreation that a man may indulge in ; 
 that is to fay, for his leifurable hours, fince 
 only then it may be reafonable. 
 
 Angler. Hey day, Mafter ! not fo faft ; c a 
 4 man need to have the patience of Job, that 
 ' he may fit filently by the river, and look down 
 c at nothing but his float.* 
 
 Painter. Nay, did I fay that ? 
 
 Angler. ' Neverthelefs, I cannot but pity 
 1 your dumpifh anglers, that wait fo meekly for 
 c their fortunes, as to feem fixed with all the 
 
 * See back p. 8. ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 285 
 
 c gravity of carved ftatues on the margin of 
 
 
 4 their ftreams* .' 
 
 
 Painter. Enough, enough ; I faid that in ig- 
 
 
 norance of the joys of anglers. I will never 
 
 
 be a fcoffer again ; and I befeech you to blot 
 
 
 thofe words from your memory, and note me 
 
 
 down your willing companion this way a-fifh- 
 
 
 ing, every year that God gives us health for 
 
 
 fuch a fweet walk in the month of May. For 
 
 
 remember, this life is fhort, and is not in our 
 
 
 own hands ; c it is as a flower of the field that 
 
 
 'fadetb:' and what fays Mr. Robert Herrick, 
 
 
 whofe verfes you both love and fing fo well ? 
 
 
 Fair daffodils, we weep to fee 
 
 
 You hafte away fo foon ; 
 
 
 As yet the early-rifmg fun 
 
 
 Has not attain'd his noon : 
 
 
 Stay, ftay 
 
 
 Until the haft'ning day 
 
 
 Has run 
 
 
 But to the even fong ; 
 
 
 And having pray'd together, we 
 
 
 Will go with you along. 
 
 
 We have fliort time to ftay, as you, 
 
 
 We have as ftiort a fpring, 
 
 
 As quick a growth to meet decay 
 
 
 As you, or any thing. 
 
 
 * See back p. 8. ED. 

 
 286 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 We die, 
 As your hours do ; and dry 
 
 Away, 
 
 Like to the Summer's rain, 
 Or as the pearls of morning dew, 
 Ne'er to be found again. 
 
 But come, brother, you muft make me a re- 
 turn for thefe lines ; and then let us be going, 
 for I have appointed a fervant with my horfes 
 to meet me in Aflibourne, that I may reach my 
 houfe at to-night. 
 
 Angler. Well, then, if I give you a plaintive 
 ditty, put it to the account of our parting : it is 
 that fweet fonnet from the Paffionate Pilgrim, 
 compofed by the greateft bard of the laft or any 
 other age. 
 
 As it fell upon a day, 
 In the merry month of May, 
 Sitting in a pleafant (hade, 
 Which a grove of myrtles made ; 
 Lambs did leap, and birds did fing ; 
 Trees did grow, and plants did fpring. 
 Every thing did banifh moan, 
 Save the nightingale alone. 
 She, poor bird, as all forlorn, 
 Lean'd her breaft up-till a thorn ; 
 And there fung the dolefuirft ditty, 
 That to hear it was great pity. 
 Fie fie fie now would me cry, 
 Teru, Teru, by and by.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 287 
 
 That to hear her fo complain, 
 
 
 Scarce I could from tears refrain : 
 
 
 For her griefs, fo lively mown, 
 
 
 Made me think, upon mine own. 
 
 
 Ah ! (thought I) thou mourn'it in vain, 
 
 
 None take pity on thy pain. 
 
 
 Senfelefe trees they cannot hear thee ; 
 
 
 Ruthlefs beafts they will not cheer thee ; 
 
 
 All thy fellow birds do fmg, 
 
 
 Carelefs of thy forrowing. 
 
 
 Even ft),, poor bird, like thee, 
 
 
 None alive will pity me.* 
 
 
 And now, good brother, it is almoft time to be 
 
 
 at home. 
 
 
 Painter. Well I'll pay the reckoning, and 
 
 
 then let's away : but what is here ? 
 
 
 Angler. We are come again to a lower part 
 
 
 of the fame Bentley Brook we faw before j fo 
 
 
 let us pafs over ; and now we are to the top of 
 
 
 the hill. 
 
 
 Painter. What noife was that ? 
 
 
 Hark, hark, I hear the dancing, 
 
 
 And a nimble morris-prancing. 
 
 
 Look over the hedge : there they are ! there is 
 
 
 a troop of lads and maidens down in yonder 
 
 
 green meadows a-dancing. 
 
 
 Angler. And fo they are ! tripping it mer- 
 
 
 rily round to the tabor and pipe. 
 
 
 * Shakefpeare's Sonnets. 

 
 288 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 Painter. And, look you, there's a bevy of 
 innocent milkmaids, leading a fine fleek cow for 
 a whipt fyllabub : fee how fhe is deck'd with 
 ribands and fcarfs, and wreaths of flowers, and 
 her horns tipped with gold. 
 
 Angler. And there the young woodmen be- 
 gin to dance with the maidens in blue kirtles : 
 how they foot it to the meafure ! Out upon the 
 cares and tumults of a court life. I do love to 
 fee thefe honeft country junketings, and I pray 
 that merry England may always have a race of 
 happy peafants, and not let melancholy Preci- 
 fians* forbid them to rejoice their tired fpirits 
 with lawful fports in the flowery meadows and 
 greenwoods. Hark ! how they laugh their for- 
 rows away. 
 
 Painter. But flay awhile : they have fet 
 themfelves down upon the grafs ; let us fee 
 what they will do. 
 
 Angler. Hift hift they are challenging 
 each other to ling and now they have begun 
 
 their 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Now is the month of Maying, 
 
 When merry lads are playing ; Falalalalala. 
 
 * In ' The King's Majeftie's Declaration concerning 
 ' lawful fports/ Puritans and Precifians are defignated 
 ' as Adverfaries of our Church/ ED.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 289 
 
 Each with his bonny lafs 
 Upon the greeny grafs. Falalalala. 
 
 
 The fpring clad all in gladnefs 
 Doth laugh at winter's fadnefs : Falala. 
 And to the bagpipe's found 
 The nymphs tread out their ground. Falalalala. 
 
 
 Fye then, why fit we mufmg, 
 Youth's fweet delight refufmg : Falala. 
 Say, daintie nymphs, and fpeak> 
 Shall we play barley-break ? 
 Falalalalala.* Falalalala. 
 
 
 Painter. There's a ballet for you ! a moft 
 merry madrigal fet to mufic by a choice hand. 
 Angler. And now they are filent : and there 
 come the little maids with bafkets of bride 
 cakes, and knots of ribbands at their bofoms, 
 with nofegays and bunches of rofemary in their 
 hands. 
 
 
 Painter. Now truft me, it is fome ruftical 
 wedding day ; and there you may fee the bride 
 in the midft, in a ruflet gown, and a kirtle of 
 fine worfted. 
 
 
 Angler. And there goes the bride cup, all 
 ftreaming with bride laces of red and white, 
 and full of fpiced poflet, that the bridegroom 
 
 
 * Firft Book of Ballads to five voices. By Thomas 
 Morley, 1600. ED. 
 
 p p
 
 290 
 
 'The River Dove. 
 
 ferves her with : and look you, the tankards 
 are pafling round. 
 
 Painter. See fee ! the lufty woodman has 
 put on his high crown'd hat, turned up with a 
 filver clafp, and leads out his bride to the dance : 
 mark with how fpecial a coynefs fhe gives him 
 her hand ; but you may depend fhe will foot it 
 with the beft as foon as fhe begins. 
 
 Angler. There's the bagpipe again : by my 
 word, Sir, they are going to Canary it. Now 
 look at my Gentleman in his yellow ftockings, 
 and his fellows all ready. 
 
 Painter. No, no : they are for a Corantoe. 
 Is it not excellent ? with what a gravity they 
 frolic it up and down. 
 
 Angler. Ay, 'tis a merry bridal, 
 
 Whilft youthful fports are lafting, 
 To feafting turn your fafting ; 
 With revels and with waflails 
 Make grief and care your vaflals : 
 
 but come, we may not tarry. 
 
 Painter. Well then I am with you. So 
 farewell ! ye peaceful fons and daughters of 
 nature : and may ye never want a fpiced bride 
 ale to make you cheerful and thankful hearts 
 withal. 
 
 Angler. Hither away then ; and now you
 
 The River Dove. 291 
 
 may fee the town of Afhbourne in the valley, 
 which is to be my refting place to-night. 
 
 Painter. Alas ! I am very loth to part with 
 you ; but thou (halt be remembered in my 
 prayers. And one thing I am refolved, when 
 on occafion the cares of life come againft me, 
 or the fears of greater afflictions, I will then 
 fay to myfelf, c It is now but fo and fo before 
 1 the month of May, when I will throw off all 
 1 my moody thoughts on the banks of fome 
 * retired river, and it may be by the fide of Mr. 
 ' Cotton's fifhing-houfe.' 
 
 jfngler. It is bravely refolved, and the more 
 fo, becaufe I know by experience, how a feclu- 
 fion from the noify world is a favourable aid 
 and opportunity for religious fervices, helps 
 to foften the affections, and inclines them to a 
 fublime love to God, and if that be wanting, 
 all others do but delude. 
 
 Painter. True ; and confider the motives 
 we have to that love ; think of that proper and 
 peculiar attraction lovelinefs ; and indeed Ho- 
 nourable Mr. Robert Boyle has declared, how 
 fuch was the freenefs of God's love towards 
 us, and fo entirely was that love its own mo- 
 tive, that even our exiftence in the world is the 
 effect of it ; nay, He even c loved us before the 
 c foundation of the world.' And confider again
 
 292 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 the rich difcoveries of His free love in fending 
 His Son to redeem us. Think of the Divine 
 glory fhrouded in the veil of manhood, and fo 
 tempered to the weak eyefight of a fallen race ; 
 of His wearinefs and watchings of the buffet, 
 mocking, and fcourge, the injurious condemna- 
 tion, and the uplifted Crofs. And let us not 
 forget how God loves to dwell, by His Spirit, 
 in them whom He has drawn and difpofed to 
 love His Son : ' He that loveth mej faid the 
 blefled Jefus, c fhall be loved of my Father, and 
 ' we will come unto him^ and make our abode 
 4 with him.' 
 
 Angler. Vaft and exalted love ! Oh the ex- 
 treme abjeclednefs of our hearts, that cannot 
 {bar up to the fkies, and there be ravifhed with 
 a contemplation of fuch glorious love. It is 
 enough to ftir our penitential fhame, to think of 
 the dulnefs of our apprehenfions ! Let us often 
 fecretly, and alone by ourfelves, pray for divine 
 grace, that our fouls may be able to rife to the 
 throne of HIM that only can ftrengthen them. 
 I might enlarge, but now I muft flop here: 
 only this is moft certain, the angler's retirement 
 is fweetened by a contemplation of God's at- 
 tributes ; and the breath of praife perfumes 
 even the banks of flowers he reclines himfelf 
 upon, c for the prayers of faints are golden vials
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 ' full of odours.'' And if he defires the beft com- 
 pany, let him join the heavenly choir in fpiri- 
 tual adoration. Therefore, let all lovers of the 
 angle be lovers of prayer, becaufe they have 
 beft opportunity to it ; and I would have them 
 be lovers of God, for they have moft reafon to 
 be fo. And now, brother, the Talbot is before 
 us, and there is your waiting man. 
 
 Painter. This parting comes too foon : do 
 you remember how ' the foul of Jonathan was 
 c knit with the foul of David, and Jonathan 
 4 loved him as his own foul? "* and how, when 
 they parted, they kifled one another, and wept 
 one with another : and ' Jonathan Jlripped him- 
 ' f e V f *he robe that was upon him, and gave 
 4 it to David!'\ 
 
 Angler. And fo he did, and alfo 4 his fword 
 1 and his bow, and his girdle J for ' he delighted 
 ' much in David. 1 
 
 Painter. Well, then, here is a parting gift, 
 that is offered with a love equal to Jonathan's, 
 notwithftanding this teftimony is fo unworthy : 
 here is my little book, that is no longer a blank 
 book, but full of rude pictures : they are all 
 your's, and welcome. They will bring to your 
 mind fome thoughts of the mutual pleafures we 
 
 * i Sam. xviii. i. f xviii. 4. 
 
 2 93
 
 294 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 have felt along the banks of the Dove : and 
 you may remember from them, that it was out 
 of love for you I came this walk ; and how you 
 rewarded me beyond my hope, becaufe you 
 taught me fome inward fecrets, and fent me 
 back to my houfe a happy compofed ANGLER. 
 
 Angler. Indeed, dear brother, I'm in a ftrait 
 how to anfwer you ; only let me embrace you, 
 as thofe loving friends kifled one another ; and 
 when I next go angling, c thou Jhalt be miffed, 
 ' becaufe thy feat will be empty.' * But we have 
 made a covenant, like Jonathan and David, 
 and let it be for the ' glorious twenty-ninth of 
 May.' And for this book of drawings, I fhall 
 efteem it to be more precious than any thing 
 elfe I know of; and indeed I love you for this 
 and many other bounties you have beftowed on 
 me. And now you may oblige me in one thing 
 more, for my confolation at parting. 
 
 Painter. Any thing you defire is, in a man- 
 ner, performed. 
 
 Angler. It is this : here is my angle rod, and 
 my landing net and pouch I befeech you, let 
 them obtain your acceptance. I do not fay it 
 out of oftentation, but there are fome flies in 
 that pouch that are artfully twifted j and above 
 
 * i Sam. xx. 1 8.
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 all others, I prefent you with the COMPLEAT 
 ANGLER, in two parts, writ by Mr. Walton 
 and Mr. Cotton ; therein we have found many 
 paffages of true piety, that may fometimes again 
 contribute to your peace and contentment. 
 
 Painter. A thoufand thanks to you ; and I 
 accept thefe gifts of your love as freely as they 
 are offered ; and when we meet again, you 
 {hall give me fome inftruclions in your better 
 art of fly-fifhing. And now ' I falute you with 
 ' a holy kifs Go in peace.' 
 
 Angler. Farewell, brother ; and remember 
 always how the ornament of a meek and quiet 
 fpirit is, in the fight of God, of great price. 
 ' Follow peace with all men, and holinefs, with- 
 ' out which no man /hall fee the LordC* We 
 have had fome innocent days of leifure amidft 
 the beauties of the natural world : but let us 
 not forget to give all diligence in our journey to 
 tHe glories of the fpiritual world. For thefe 
 pleafures of the earth are but a faint fhadow of 
 the bleffednefs of the heavenly Sion. Let us 
 be prepared in the whole armour of Chriftian 
 foldiers, that when our temporal warfare is ac- 
 complifhed, we may receive an eternal crown ; 
 and reft and refrefh ourfelves befide the c pure 
 
 * Heb. xii. 14. 
 
 295
 
 296 
 
 The River Dove. 
 
 1 river of water of life, clear as cryjlal, proceed- 
 ' ing out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.'* 
 Once more, farewell ! 
 
 * Rev. xxii. i. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 C. WHITTINGHAM, CHISW1CK.
 
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