SIR,

I have made so ill use of your former favors, as by them to be

encouraged to intreat that they may be enlarged to the patronage and

protection of this Book; and I have put on a modest confidence, that I

shall not be denyed, because 'tis a discourse of Fish and Fishing,

which you both know so well, and love and practice so much.

You are assur'd (though there be ignorant men of an other belief) that

Angling is an Art; and you know that Art better then any that I know:

and that this is truth, is demostrated by the fruits of that pleasant

labor which you enjoy when you purpose to give rest to your mind, and

devest your self of your more serious business, and (which is often)

dedicate a day or two to this Recreation.

At which time, if common Anglers should attend you, and be eye-witnesses

of the success, not of your fortune, but your skill, it would doubtless

beget in them an emulation to be like you, and that emulation might

beget an industrious diligence to be so: but I know it is not atainable

by common capacities.

Sir, this pleasant curiositie of Fish and Fishing (of which you are so

great a Master) has been thought worthy the_ pens _and_ practices _of

divers in other Nations, which have been reputed men of great_ Learning

_and_ Wisdome; _and amongst those of this Nation, I remember Sir_ Henry

Wotton _(a dear lover of this Art) has told me, that his intentions

were to write a discourse of the Art, and in the praise of Angling, and

doubtless he had done so, if death had not prevented him; the

remembrance of which hath often made me sorry; for, if he had lived to

do it, then the unlearned Angler (of which I am one) had seen some

Treatise of this Art worthy his perusal, which (though some have

undertaken it) I could never yet see in English.

But mine may be thought: as weak and as unworthy of common view: and I

do here freely confess that I should rather excuse myself, then censure

others my own Discourse being liable to so many exceptions; against

which, you (Sir) might make this one, That it can contribute nothing to

your knowledge; and lest a longer Epistle may diminish your pleasure, I

shall not adventure to make this Epistle longer then to add this

following truth, That I am really, Sir,

Your most affectionate Friend, and most humble Servant,

Iz. Wa.

To the _Reader of this Discourse_: But especially, To the honest

ANGLER.

I think fit to tell thee these following truths; that I did not

undertake to write, or to publish this discourse of _fish_ and

_fishing_, to please my self, and that I wish it may not displease

others; for, I have confest there are many defects in it. And yet, I

cannot doubt, but that by it, some readers may receive so much _profit_

or _pleasure_, as if they be not very busie men, may make it not

unworthy the time of their perusall; and this is all the confidence

that I can put on concerning the merit of this Book.

And I wish the Reader also to take notice, that in writing of it, I

have made a recreation, of a recreation; and that it might prove so to

thee in the reading, and not to read _dull_, and _tediously_, I have in

severall places mixt some innocent Mirth; of which, if thou be a

severe, sowr complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a

competent Judg. For Divines say, _there are offences given; and

offences taken, but not given_. And I am the willinger to justifie this

_innocent Mirth_, because the whole discourse is a kind of picture of

my owne disposition, at least of my disposition in such daies and times

as I allow my self, when honest _Nat_. and _R. R._ and I go a fishing

together; and let me adde this, that he that likes not the discourse,

should like the pictures the _Trout_ and other fish, which I may

commend, because they concern not my self. And I am also to tel the

Reader, that in that which is the more usefull part of this discourse;

that is to say, the observations of the _nature_ and _breeding_, and

_seasons_, and _catching of fish_, I am not so simple as not to think

but that he may find exceptions in some of these; and therefore I must

intreat him to know, or rather note, that severall Countreys, and

several Rivers alter the _time_ and _manner_ of fishes Breeding; and

therefore if he bring not candor to the reading of this Discourse, he

shall both injure me, and possibly himself too by too many Criticisms.

Now for the Art of catching fish; that is to say, how to make a man

that was none, an Angler by a book: he that undertakes it, shall

undertake a harder task then _Hales_ offered to thy view and censure; I

with thee as much in the perusal of it, and so might that in his

printed Book [called the private School of defence] undertook by it to

teach the Art of Fencing, and was laught at for his labour. Not but

that something usefull might be observed out of that Book; but that Art

was not to be taught by words; nor is the Art of Angling. And yet, I

think, that most that love that Game, may here learn something that may

be worth their money, if they be not needy: and if they be, then my

advice is, that they forbear; for, I write not to get money, but for

pleasure; and this discourse boasts of no more: for I hate to promise

much, and fail.

But pleasure I have found both in the _search_ and _conference_ about

what is here offered to thy view and censure; I wish thee as much in

the perusal of it, and so might here take my leave; but I will stay

thee a little longer by telling thee, that whereas it is said by many,

that in _Fly-fishing_ for a _Trout_, the Angler must observe his twelve

_Flyes_ for every Month; I say, if he observe that, he shall be as

certain to catch fish, as they that make Hay by the fair dayes in

Almanacks, and be no surer: for doubtless, three or four _Flyes_ rightly

made, do serve for a _Trout_ all _Summer_, and for _Winter-flies_, all

_Anglers_ know, they are as useful as an _Almanack_ out of date.

Of these (because no man is born an _Artist_ nor an _Angler_) I thought

fit to give thee this notice. I might say more, but it is not fit for

this place; but if this Discourse which follows shall come to a second

impression, which is possible, for slight books have been in this Age

observed to have that fortune; I shall then for thy sake be glad to

correct what is faulty, or by a conference with any to explain or

enlarge what is defective: but for this time I have neither a

willingness nor leasure to say more, then wish thee a rainy evening to

read this book in, and that the east wind may never blow when thou

goest a fishing. Farewel.

Iz. Wa.

Because in this Discourse of _Fish_ and _Fishing_ I have not observed

a method, which (though the Discourse be not long) may be some

inconvenience to the Reader, I have therefore for his easier finding

out some particular things which are spoken of, made this following

Table.

_The first Chapter is spent in a_ vindication _or_ commendation _of the

Art of Angling_.

_In the second are some observations of the nature of the_ Otter, _and

also some observations of the_ Chub _or_ Cheven, _with directions how

and with what baits to fish for him_.

In chapt. 3. _are some observations of_ Trouts, _both of their nature,

their kinds, and their breeding_.

In chap. 4. _are some direction concerning baits for the_ Trout, _with

advise how to make the_ Fly, _and keep the live baits_.

In chap. 5. _are some direction how to fish for the_ Trout _by night;

and a question, Whether fish bear? and lastly, some direction how to

fish for the_ Umber _or_ Greyling.

In chap. 6. _are some observations concerning the_ Salmon, _with

direction how to fish for him_.

In chap. 7 _are several observations concerning the_ Luce _or_ Pike,

_with some directions how and with what baits to fish for him_.

In chap. 8. _are several observations of the nature and breeding of_

Carps, _with some observations how to angle for them_.

In chap. 9. _are some observations concerning the_ Bream, _the_ Tench,

_and_ Pearch, _with some directions with what baits to fish for them_.

In chap. 10. _are several observations of the nature and breeding of_

Eeles, _with advice how to fish for them_.

In chap. 11 _are some observations of the nature and breeding of_

Barbels, _with some advice how, and with what baits to fish for them;

as also for the_ Gudgion _and_ Bleak.

In chap. 12. _are general directions how and with what baits to fish

for the_ Russe _or_ Pope, _the_ Roch, _the_ Dace, _and other small

fish, with directions how to keep_ Ant-flies _and_ Gentles _in winter,

with some other observations not unfit to be known of Anglers_.

In chap. 13. _are observations for the colouring of your_ Rod _and_

Hair.

These directions the Reader may take as an ease in his search after

some particular Fish, and the baits proper for them; and he will shew

himselfe courteous in mending or passing by some errors in the Printer,

which are not so many but that they may be pardoned.

The Complete ANGLER.

OR, The contemplative Mans RECREATION.

| PISCATOR |

| VIATOR |

_Piscator_. You are wel overtaken Sir; a good morning to you; I have

stretch'd my legs up _Totnam Hil_ to overtake you, hoping your

businesse may occasion you towards _Ware_, this fine pleasant fresh

_May day_ in the Morning.

_Viator_. Sir. I shall almost answer your hopes: for my purpose is to

be at _Hodsden_ (three miles short of that Town) I wil not say, before

I drink; but before I break my fast: for I have appointed a friend or

two to meet me there at the thatcht house, about nine of the clock this

morning; and that made me so early up, and indeed, to walk so fast.

_Pisc_. Sir, I know the _thatcht house_ very well: I often make it my

resting place, and taste a cup of Ale there, for which liquor that

place is very remarkable; and to that house I shall by your favour

accompany you, and either abate of my pace, or mend it, to enjoy such a

companion as you seem to be, knowing that (as the Italians say) _Good

company makes the way seem shorter_.

_Viat_. It may do so Sir, with the help of good discourse, which (me

thinks) I may promise from you, that both look and speak so cheerfully.

And to invite you to it, I do here promise you, that for my part, I

will be as free and open-hearted, as discretion will warrant me to be

with a stranger.

_Pisc_. Sir, I am right glad of your answer; and in confidence that you

speak the truth, I shall (Sir) put on a boldness to ask, whether

pleasure or businesse has occasioned your Journey.

_Viat_. Indeed, Sir, a little business, and more pleasure: for my

purpose is to bestow a day or two in hunting the _Otter_ (which my

friend that I go to meet, tells me is more pleasant then any hunting

whatsoever:) and having dispatched a little businesse this day, my

purpose is tomorrow to follow a pack of dogs of honest Mr. ---- ----,

who hath appointed me and my friend to meet him upon _Amwel hill_ to

morrow morning by day break.

_Pisc_. Sir, my fortune hath answered my desires; and my purpose is to

bestow a day or two in helping to destroy some of those villainous

vermin: for I hate them perfectly, because they love fish so well, or

rather, because they destroy so much: indeed, so much, that in my

judgment, all men that keep Otter dogs ought to have a Pension from the

Commonwealth to incourage them to destroy the very breed of those base

_Otters_, they do so much mischief.

_Viat_. But what say you to the _Foxes_ of this Nation? would not you

as willingly have them destroyed? for doubtlesse they do as much

mischief as the _Otters_.

_Pisc_. Oh Sir, if they do, it is not so much to me and my Fraternitie,

as that base Vermin the _Otters_ do.

_Viat_. Why Sir, I pray, of what Fraternity are you, that you are so

angry with the poor _Otter_?

_Pisc_. I am a Brother of the _Angle_, and therefore an enemy to the

_Otter_, he does me and my friends so much mischief; for you are to

know, that we _Anglers_ all love one another: and therefore do I hate

the _Otter_ perfectly, even for their sakes that are of my Brotherhood.

_Viat_. Sir, to be plain with you, I am sorry you are an _Angler_: for

I have heard many grave, serious men pitie, and many pleasant men scoff

at _Anglers_.

_Pisc_. Sir, There are many men that are by others taken to be serious

grave men, which we contemn and pitie; men of sowre complexions;

mony-getting-men, that spend all their time first in getting, and next

in anxious care to keep it: men that are condemn'd to be rich, and

alwayes discontented, or busie. For these poor-rich-men, wee Anglers

pitie them; and stand in no need to borrow their thoughts to think our

selves happie: For (trust me, Sir) we enjoy a contentednesse above the

reach of such dispositions.

And as for any scoffer, _qui mockat mockabitur_. Let mee tell you,

(that you may tell him) what the wittie French-man [the Lord Mountagne

in his Apol. for Ra-Se-bond.] sayes in such a Case. _When my_ Cat _and

I entertaine each other with mutuall apish tricks (as playing with a

garter,) who knows but that I make her more sport then she makes me?

Shall I conclude her simple, that has her time to begin or refuse

sportivenesse as freely as I my self have? Nay, who knows but that our

agreeing no better, is the defect of my not understanding her language?

(for doubtlesse Cats talk and reason with one another) and that shee

laughs at, and censures my folly, for making her sport, and pities mee

for understanding her no better?_ To this purpose speaks _Mountagne_

concerning _Cats_: And I hope I may take as great a libertie to blame

any Scoffer, that has never heard what an Angler can say in the

justification of his Art and Pleasure.

But, if this satisfie not, I pray bid the Scoffer put this Epigram into

his pocket, and read it every morning for his breakfast (for I wish him

no better;) Hee shall finde it fix'd before the Dialogues of _Lucian_

(who may be justly accounted the father of the Family of all

_Scoffers_:) And though I owe none of that Fraternitie so much as good

will, yet I have taken a little pleasant pains to make such a

conversion of it as may make it the fitter for all of that Fraternity.

Lucian _well skill'd in_ scoffing, _this has writ,

Friend, that's your folly which you think your wit;

This you vent oft, void both of wit and fear,

Meaning an other, when your self you jeer_.

But no more of the _Scoffer_; for since _Solomon_ sayes, he is an

abomination to men, he shall be so to me; and I think, to all that love

_Vertue_ and _Angling_.

_Viat_. Sir, you have almost amazed me [Pro 24. 9]: for though I am no

Scoffer, yet I have (I pray let me speak it without offence) alwayes

look'd upon _Anglers_ as more patient, and more simple men, then (I

fear) I shall finde you to be.

_Piscat_. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestnesse to be

impatience: and for my _simplicitie_, if by that you mean a

_harmlessnesse_, or that _simplicity_ that was usually found in the

Primitive Christians, who were (as most _Anglers_ are) quiet men, and

followed peace; men that were too wise to sell their consciences to buy

riches for vexation, and a fear to die. Men that lived in those times

when there were fewer Lawyers; for then a Lordship might have been

safely conveyed in a piece of Parchment no bigger then your hand,

though several skins are not sufficient to do it in this wiser Age. I

say, Sir, if you take us Anglers to be such simple men as I have spoken

of, then both my self, and those of my profession will be glad to be so

understood. But if by simplicitie you meant to expresse any general

defect in the understanding of those that professe and practice

_Angling_, I hope to make it appear to you, that there is so much

contrary reason (if you have but the patience to hear it) as may remove

all the anticipations that Time or Discourse may have possess'd you

with, against that Ancient and laudable Art.

_Viat_. Why (Sir) is Angling of Antiquitie, and an Art, and an art

not easily learn'd?

_Pisc_. Yes (Sir:) and I doubt not but that if you and I were to

converse together but til night, I should leave you possess'd with the

same happie thoughts that now possesse me; not onely for the Antiquitie

of it, but that it deserves commendations; and that 'tis an Art; and

worthy the knowledge and practice of a wise, and a serious man.

_Viat_. Sir, I pray speak of them what you shall think fit; for wee

have yet five miles to walk before wee shall come to the _Thatcht

house_. And, Sir, though my infirmities are many, yet I dare promise

you, that both my patience and attention will indure to hear what you

will say till wee come thither: and if you please to begin in order

with the antiquity, when that is done, you shall not want my attention

to the commendations and accommodations of it: and lastly, if you shall

convince me that 'tis an Art, and an Art worth learning, I shall beg I

may become your Scholer, both to wait upon you, and to be instructed in

the Art it self.

_Pisc_. Oh Sir, 'tis not to be questioned, but that it is an art, and

an art worth your Learning: the question wil rather be, whether you be

capable of learning it? For he that learns it, must not onely bring an

enquiring, searching, and discerning wit; but he must bring also that

_patience_ you talk of, and a love and propensity to the art itself:

but having once got and practised it, then doubt not but the Art will

(both for the pleasure and profit of it) prove like to _Vertue, a

reward to it self_.

_Viat_. Sir, I am now become so ful of expectation, that I long much to

have you proceed in your discourse: And first, I pray Sir, let me hear

concerning the antiquity of it.

_Pisc_. Sir, I wil preface no longer, but proceed in order as you

desire me: And first for the Antiquity of _Angling_, I shall not say

much; but onely this; Some say, it is as ancient as _Deucalions_ Floud:

and others (which I like better) say, that _Belus_ (who was the

inventer of godly and vertuous Recreations) was the Inventer of it: and

some others say, (for former times have had their Disquisitions about

it) that _Seth_, one of the sons of _Adam_, taught it to his sons, and

that by them it was derived to Posterity. Others say, that he left it

engraven on those Pillars which hee erected to preserve the knowledg of

the _Mathematicks, Musick_, and the rest of those precious Arts, which

by Gods appointment or allowance, and his noble industry were thereby

preserved from perishing in _Noah's_ Floud.

These (my worthy Friend) have been the opinions of some men, that

possibly may have endeavoured to make it more ancient then may well be

warranted. But for my part, I shall content my self in telling you,

That _Angling_ is much more ancient then the incarnation of our

Saviour: For both in the Prophet _Amos_ [Chap. 42], and before him in

_Job_ [Chap. 41], (which last Book is judged to be written by _Moses_)

mention is made _fish-hooks_, which must imply _Anglers_ in those

times.

But (my worthy friend) as I would rather prove my self to be a

Gentleman, by being _learned_ and _humble, valiant_ and _inoffensive,

vertuous_ and _communicable_, then by a fond ostentation of _riches_; or

(wanting these Vertues my self) boast that these were in my Ancestors;

[And yet I confesse, that where a noble and ancient Descent and such

Merits meet in any man, it is a double dignification of that person:]

and so, if this Antiquitie of Angling (which, for my part, I have not

forc'd) shall like an ancient Familie, by either an honour, or an

ornament to this vertuous Art which I both love and practise, I shall

be the gladder that I made an accidental mention of it; and shall

proceed to the justification, or rather commendation of it.

_Viat_. My worthy Friend, I am much pleased with your discourse, for

that you seem to be so ingenuous, and so modest, as not to stretch

arguments into Hyperbolicall expressions, but such as indeed they will

reasonably bear; and I pray, proceed to the justification, or

commendations of Angling, which I also long to hear from you.

_Pisc_. Sir, I shall proceed; and my next discourse shall be rather a

Commendation, then a Justification of Angling: for, in my judgment, if

it deserves to be commended, it is more then justified; for some

practices what may be justified, deserve no commendation: yet there are

none that deserve commendation but may be justified.

And now having said this much by way of preparation, I am next to tell

you, that in ancient times a debate hath risen, (and it is not yet

resolved) Whether _Contemplation_ or _Action_ be the chiefest thing

wherin the happiness of a man doth most consist in this world?

Concerning which, some have maintained their opinion of the first, by

saying, "[That the nearer we Mortals come to God by way of imitation,

the more happy we are:]" And that God injoyes himself only by

_Contemplation_ of his own _Goodness, Eternity, Infiniteness_, and

_Power_, and the like; and upon this ground many of them prefer

_Contemplation_ before _Action_: and indeed, many of the Fathers seem

to approve this opinion, as may appear in their Comments upon the words

of our Saviour to _Martha_. [Luk. 10. 41, 42]

And contrary to these, others of equal Authority and credit, have

preferred _Action_ to be chief; as experiments in _Physick_, and the

application of it, both for the ease and prolongation of mans life, by

which man is enabled to act, and to do good to others: And they say

also, That _Action_ is not only Doctrinal, but a maintainer of humane

Society; and for these, and other reasons, to be preferr'd before

_Contemplation_.

Concerning which two opinions, I shall forbear to add a third, by

declaring my own, and rest my self contented in telling you (my worthy

friend) that both these meet together, and do most properly belong to

the most honest, ingenious, harmless Art of Angling.

And first I shall tel you what some have observed, and I have found in

my self, That the very sitting by the Rivers side, is not only the

fittest place for, but will invite the Angler to Contemplation: That it

is the fittest place, seems to be witnessed by the children of

_Israel_, [Psal. 137.] who having banish'd all mirth and Musick from

their pensive hearts, and having hung up their then mute Instruments

upon the Willow trees, growing by the Rivers of _Babylon_, sate down

upon those banks bemoaning the _ruines of Sion_, and contemplating

their own sad condition.

And an ingenuous _Spaniard_ sayes, "[That both Rivers, and the

inhabitants of the watery Element, were created for wise men to

contemplate, and fools to pass by without consideration.]" And though I

am too wise to rank myself in the first number, yet give me leave to

free my self from the last, by offering to thee a short contemplation,

first of Rivers, and then of Fish: concerning which, I doubt not but to

relate to you many things very considerable. Concerning Rivers, there

be divers wonders reported of them by Authors, of such credit, that we

need not deny them an Historical faith.

As of a River in _Epirus_, that puts out any lighted Torch, and kindles

any Torch that was not lighted. Of the River _Selarus_, that in a few

hours turns a rod or a wand into stone (and our _Camden_ mentions the

like wonder in _England_:) that there is a River in _Arabia_, of which

all the Sheep that drink thereof have their Wool turned into a

Vermilion colour. And one of no less credit then _Aristotle_, [in his

Wonders of nature, this is confirmed by _Ennius_ and _Solon_ in his

holy History.] tels us of a merry River, the River _Elusina_, that

dances at the noise of Musick, that with Musick it bubbles, dances, and

growes sandy, but returns to a wonted calmness and clearness when the

Musick ceases. And lastly, (for I would not tire your patience)

_Josephus_, that learned _Jew_, tells us of a River in _Judea_, that

runs and moves swiftly all the six dayes of the week, and stands still

and rests upon their _Sabbath_ day. But Sir, lest this discourse may

seem tedious, I shall give it a sweet conclusion out of that holy Poet

Mr. _George Herbert_ his Divine Contemplation on Gods providence.

Lord, who hath praise enough, nay, who hath any?

None can express thy works, but he that knows them:

And none can know thy works, they are so many,

And so complete, but only he that owes them.

We all acknowledge both thy power and love

To be exact, transcendent, and divine;

Who does so strangely, and so sweetly move,

Whilst all things have their end, yet none but thine.

Wherefore, most Sacred Spirit, I here present

For me, and all my fellows praise to thee:

And just it is that I should pay the rent,

Because the benefit accrues to me.

And as concerning _Fish_, in that Psalm [Psal. 104], wherein, for

height of Poetry and Wonders, the Prophet _David_ seems even to exceed

himself; how doth he there express himselfe in choice Metaphors, even

to the amazement of a contemplative Reader, concerning the Sea, the

Rivers, and the Fish therein contained. And the great Naturallist

_Pliny_ sayes, "[That Natures great and wonderful power is more

demonstrated in the Sea, then on the Land.]" And this may appear by the

numerous and various Creatures, inhabiting both in and about that

Element: as to the Readers of _Gesner, Randelitius, Pliny, Aristotle_,

and others is demonstrated: But I will sweeten this discourse also out

of a contemplation in Divine _Dubartas_, who sayes [in the fifth day],

_God quickened in the Sea and in the Rivers,

So many fishes of so many features,

That in the waters we may see all Creatures;

Even all that on the earth is to be found,

As if the world were in deep waters drownd.

For seas (as well as Skies) have Sun, Moon, Stars;

(As wel as air) Swallows, Rooks, and Stares;

(As wel as earth) Vines, Roses, Nettles, Melons,

Mushrooms, Pinks, Gilliflowers and many milions

Of other plants, more rare, more strange then these;

As very fishes living in the seas;

And also Rams, Calves, Horses, Hares and Hogs,

Wolves, Urchins, Lions, Elephants and Dogs;

Yea, Men and Maids, and which I most admire,

The Mitred Bishop, and the cowled Fryer.

Of which examples but a few years since,

Were shewn the_ Norway _and_ Polonian _Prince_.

These seem to be wonders, but have had so many confirmations from men

of Learning and credit, that you need not doubt them; nor are the

number, nor the various shapes of fishes, more strange or more fit for

contemplation, then their different natures, inclinations and actions:

concerning which I shall beg your patient ear a little longer.

The _Cuttle-fish_ wil cast a long gut out of her throat, which (like

as an Angler does his line) she sendeth, forth and pulleth in again at

her pleasure, according as she sees some little fish come neer to her

[Mount _Elsayes_: and others affirm this]; and the _Cuttle-fish_ (being

then hid in the gravel) lets the smaller fish nibble and bite the end

of it; at which time shee by little and little draws the smaller fish

so neer to her, that she may leap upon her, and then catches and

devours her: and for this reason some have called this fish the

_Sea-Angler_.

There are also lustful and chaste fishes, of which I shall also give

you examples.

And first, what _Dubartas_ sayes of a fish called the _Sargus_; which

(because none can express it better then he does) I shall give you in

his own words, supposing it shall not have the less credit for being

Verse, for he hath gathered this, and other observations out of Authors

that have been great and industrious searchers into the secrets of

nature.

_The Adulterous_ Sargus _doth not only change,

Wives every day in the deep streams, but (strange)

As if the honey of Sea-love delight

Could not suffice his ranging appetite,

Goes courting_ She-Goats _on the grassie shore,

Horning their husbands that had horns before_.

And the same Author writes concerning the _Cantharus_, that which you

shall also heare in his own words.

_But contrary, the constant_ Cantharus,

_Is ever constant to his faithful Spouse,

In nuptial duties spending his chaste life,

Never loves any but his own dear wife_.

Sir, but a little longer, and I have done.

_Viat_. Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for your discourse seems

to be Musick, and charms me into an attention.

_Pisc_. Why then Sir, I will take a little libertie to tell, or rather

to remember you what is said of _Turtle Doves_: First, that they

silently plight their troth and marry; and that then, the Survivor

scorns (as the _Thracian_ women are said to do) to out-live his or her

Mate; and this is taken for such a truth, that if the Survivor shall

ever couple with another, the he or she, not only the living, but the

dead, is denyed the name and honour of a true _Turtle Dove_.

And to parallel this Land Variety & teach mankind moral faithfulness &

to condemn those that talk of Religion, and yet come short of the moral

faith of fish and fowl; Men that violate the Law, affirm'd by Saint

_Paul_ [Rom. 2.14.15] to be writ in their hearts, and which he sayes

shal at the last day condemn and leave them without excuse. I pray

hearken to what _Dubartas_ sings [5. day.] (for the hearing of such

conjugal faithfulness, will be Musick to all chaste ears) and

therefore, I say, hearken to what _Dubartas_ sings of the _Mullet_:

_But for chaste love the_ Mullet _hath no peer,

For, if the Fisher hath surprised her pheer,

As mad with woe to shoare she followeth,

Prest to consort him both in life and death_.

On the contrary, what shall I say of the _House-Cock_, which treads any

Hen, and then (contrary to the _Swan_, the _Partridg_, and _Pigeon_)

takes no care to hatch, to feed, or to cherish his own Brood, but is

sensless though they perish.

And 'tis considerable, that the _Hen_ (which because she also takes any

_Cock_, expects it not) who is sure the Chickens be her own, hath by a

moral impression her care, and affection to her own Broode, more then

doubled, even to such a height, that our Saviour in expressing his love

to _Jerusalem_, [Mat. 23. 37] quotes her for an example of tender

affection, as his Father had done _Job_ for a pattern of patience.

And to parallel this _Cock_, there be divers fishes that cast their

spawne on flags or stones, and then leave it uncovered and exposed to

become a prey, and be devoured by Vermine or other fishes: but other

fishes (as namely the _Barbel_) take such care for the preservation of

their seed, that (unlike to the _Cock_ or the _Cuckoe_) they mutually

labour (both the Spawner, and the Melter) to cover their spawne with

sand, or watch it, or hide it in some secret place unfrequented by

Vermine, or by any fish but themselves.

Sir, these examples may, to you and others, seem strange; but they are

testified, some by _Aristotle_, some by _Pliny_, some by _Gesner_, and

by divers others of credit, and are believed and known by divers, both

of wisdom and experience, to be a truth; and are (as I said at the

beginning) fit for the contemplation of a most serious, and a most

pious man.

And that they be fit for the contemplation of the most prudent and

pious, and peaceable men, seems to be testified by the practice of so

many devout and contemplative men; as the Patriarks or Prophets of old,

and of the Apostles of our Saviour in these later times, of which

twelve he chose four that were Fishermen: concerning which choice some

have made these Observations.

First, That he never reproved these for their Imployment or Calling, as

he did the Scribes and the Mony-Changers. And secondly, That he found

the hearts of such men, men that by nature were fitted for

contemplation and quietness; men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable

spirits, (as indeed most Anglers are) these men our blessed Saviour

(who is observed to love to plant grace in good natures) though nothing

be too hard for him, yet these men he chose to call from their

irreprovable imployment, and gave them grace to be his Disciples and to

follow him.

And it is observable, that it was our Saviours will that his four

Fishermen Apostles should have a prioritie of nomination in the

catalogue of his twelve Apostles, as namely first, S. _Peter, Andrew,

James_ [Mat. 10.] and _John_, and then the rest in their order.

And it is yet more observable, that when our blessed Saviour went up

into the Mount, at his Transfiguration, when he left the rest of his

Disciples and chose onely three to bear him company, that these three

were all Fishermen.

And since I have your promise to hear me with patience, I will take a

liberty to look back upon an observation that hath been made by an

ingenuous and learned man, who observes that God hath been pleased to

allow those whom he himselfe hath appointed, to write his holy will in

holy Writ, yet to express his will in such Metaphors as their former

affections or practise had inclined them to; and he brings _Solomon_

for an example, who before his conversion was remarkably amorous, and

after by Gods appointment, writ that Love-Song [the Canticles] betwixt

God and his Church.

And if this hold in reason (as I see none to the contrary) then it may

be probably concluded, that _Moses_ (whom I told you before, writ the

book of _Job_) and the Prophet _Amos_ were both Anglers, for you shal

in all the old Testaments find fish-hooks but twice mentioned; namely,

by meek _Moses_, the friend of God; and by the humble Prophet _Amos_.

Concerning which last, namely, the Prophet _Amos_, I shall make but

this Observation, That he that shall read the humble, lowly, plain

stile of that Prophet, and compare it with the high, glorious, eloquent

stile of the prophet _Isaiah_ (though they be both equally true) may

easily believe him to be a good natured, plaine Fisher-man.

Which I do the rather believe, by comparing the affectionate, lowly,

humble epistles of S. _Peter_, S. _James_ and S. _John_, whom we know

were Fishers, with the glorious language and high Metaphors of S.

_Paul_, who we know was not.

Let me give you the example of two men more, that have lived nearer to

our own times: first of Doctor _Nowel_ sometimes Dean of S. _Paul's_,

(in which Church his Monument stands yet undefaced) a man that in the

Reformation of Queen _Elizabeth_ (not that of _Henry the VIII_.) was so

noted for his meek spirit, deep Learning, Prudence and Piety, that the

then Parliament and Convocation, both chose, injoyned, and trusted him

to be the man to make a Catechism for publick use, such a one as should

stand as a rule for faith and manners to their posteritie: And the good

man (though he was very learned, yet knowing that God leads us not to

heaven by hard questions) made that good, plain, unperplext Catechism,

that is printed with the old Service Book. I say, this good man was as

dear a lover, and constant practicer of Angling, as any Age can

produce; and his custome was to spend (besides his fixt hours of prayer,

those hours which by command of the Church were enjoined the old

Clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to devotion by many Primitive

Christians:) besides those hours, this good man was observed to spend,

or if you will, to bestow a tenth part of his time in Angling; and also

(for I have conversed with those which have conversed with him) to

bestow a tenth part of his Revenue, and all his fish, amongst the poor

that inhabited near to those Rivers in which it was caught, saying

often, _That Charity gave life to Religion_: and at his return would

praise God he had spent that day free from worldly trouble, both

harmlesly and in a Recreation that became a Church-man.

My next and last example shall be that undervaluer of money, the late

Provost of _Eaton Colledg_, Sir _Henry Wotton_, (a man with whom I have

often fish'd and convers'd) a man whose forraign imployments in the

service of this Nation, and whose experience, learning, wit and

cheerfulness, made his company to be esteemed one of the delights of

mankind; this man, whose very approbation of Angling were sufficient to

convince any modest Censurer of it, this man was also a most dear

lover, and a frequent practicer of the Art of Angling, of which he

would say, "['Twas an imployment for his idle time, which was not idly

spent;]" for Angling was after tedious study "[A rest to his mind, a

cheerer of his spirits, a divertion of sadness, a calmer of unquiet

thoughts, a Moderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness, and

that it begot habits of peace and patience in those that profest and

practic'd it.]"

Sir, This was the saying of that Learned man; and I do easily believe

that peace, and patience, and a calm content did cohabit in the

cheerful heart of Sir _Henry Wotton_, because I know, that when he was

beyond seventy years of age he made this description of a part of the

present pleasure that possest him, as he sate quietly in a Summers

evening on a bank a fishing; it is a description of the Spring, which

because it glides as soft and sweetly from his pen, as that River does

now by which it was then made, I shall repeat unto you.

_This day dame Nature seem'd in love:

The lustie sap began to move;

Fresh juice did stir th'imbracing Vines,

And birds had drawn their_ Valentines.

_The jealous_ Trout, _that low did lye,

Rose at a well dissembled flie;

There stood my friend with patient skill,

Attending of his trembling quil.

Already were the eaves possest

With the swift Pilgrims dawbed nest:

The Groves already did rejoice,

In_ Philomels _triumphing voice:

The showrs were short, the weather mild,

The morning fresh, the evening smil'd_.

Jone _takes her neat rubb'd pail, and now

She trips to milk the sand-red Cow;

Where for some sturdy foot-ball Swain_.

Jone _strokes a_ Sillibub _or twaine.

The fields and gardens were beset

With_ Tulips, Crocus, Violet,

_And now, though late, the modest_ Rose

_Did more then half a blush disclose.

Thus all looks gay and full of chear

To welcome the new liveried year_.

These were the thoughts that then possest the undisturbed mind of Sir

_Henry Wotton_. Will you hear the wish of another Angler, and the

commendation of his happy life [Jo. Da.], which he also sings in Verse.

_Let me live harmlesly, and near the brink

Of_ Trent _or_ Avon _have a dwelling place,

Where I may see my quil or cork down sink,

With eager bit of_ Pearch, _or_ Bleak, _or_ Dace;

And on the world and my Creator think,

Whilst some men strive, ill gotten goods t'imbrace;

And others spend their time in base excess

Of wine or worse, in war and wantonness.

_Let them that list these pastimes still pursue,

And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill,

So I the fields and meadows green may view,

And daily by fresh Rivers walk at will,

Among the_ Daisies _and the_ Violets _blue,

Red_ Hyacinth, _and yellow_ Daffadil,

_Purple_ Narcissus, _like the morning rayes,

Pale_ ganderglass _and azure_ Culverkayes.

_I count it higher pleasure to behold

The stately compass of the lofty_ Skie,

_And in the midst thereof (like burning Gold)

The flaming Chariot of the worlds great eye,

The watry clouds, that in the aire up rold,

With sundry kinds of painted colour flye;

And fair_ Aurora _lifting up her head,

Still blushing, rise from old_ Tithonius _bed.

The_ hils _and_ mountains _raised from the_ plains,

_The_ plains _extended level with the_ ground,

_The_ grounds _divided into sundry_ vains,

_The_ vains _inclos'd with_ rivers _running round;

These_ rivers _making way through natures chains

With headlong course into the sea profound;

The raging sea, beneath the vallies low,

Where_ lakes, _and_ rils, _and_ rivulets _do flow.

The loftie woods, the Forrests wide and long

Adorn'd with leaves & branches fresh & green,

In whose cool bowres the birds with many a song

Do welcom with their Quire the Sumers_ Queen:

_The Meadows fair, where_ Flora's _gifts among

Are intermixt, with verdant grass between.

The silver-scaled fish that softly swim,

Within the sweet brooks chrystal watry stream.

All these, and many more of his Creation,

That made the Heavens, the Angler oft doth see,

Taking therein no little delectation,

To think how strange, how wonderful they be;

Framing thereof an inward contemplation,

To set his heart from other fancies free;

And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye,

His mind is rapt above the Starry Skie_.

Sir, I am glad my memory did not lose these last Verses, because they

are somewhat more pleasant and more sutable to _May Day_, then my harsh

Discourse, and I am glad your patience hath held out so long, as to

hear them and me; for both together have brought us within the sight of

the _Thatcht House_; and I must be your Debtor (if you think it worth

your attention) for the rest of my promised discourse, till some other

opportunity and a like time of leisure.

_Viat_. Sir, You have Angled me on with much pleasure to the _thatcht

House_, and I now find your words true, _That good company makes the

way seem short_; for, trust me, Sir, I thought we had wanted three

miles of the _thatcht House_, till you shewed it me: but now we are at

it, we'l turn into it, and refresh our selves with a cup of Ale and a

little rest.

_Pisc_. Most gladly (Sir) and we'l drink a civil cup to all the _Otter

Hunters_ that are to meet you to morrow.

_Viat_. That we wil, Sir, and to all the lovers of Angling too, of

which number, I am now one my self, for by the help of your good

discourse and company, I have put on new thoughts both of the Art of

Angling, and of all that profess it: and if you will but meet me too

morrow at the time and place appointed, and bestow one day with me and

my friends in hunting the _Otter_, I will the next two dayes wait upon

you, and we two will for that time do nothing but angle, and talk of

fish and fishing.

_Pisc_. 'Tis a match, Sir, I'l not fail you, God willing, to be at

_Amwel Hil_ to morrow morning before Sunrising.