SALMONIA:

OR,

DAYS OF FLY FISHING.

FIRST DAY.

HALIEUS-POIETES-PHYSICUS-ORNITHER.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION-SYMPOSIAC.

Scene, London.

PHYS.-HALIEUS, I dare say you know where this excellent trout was caught: I never ate a better fish of the kind.

HAL.-I ought to know, as it was this morning in the waters of the Wandle, not ten miles from the place where we sit, and it is through my means that you see it at table.

PHYS.-Of your own catching?
HAL.-Yes, with the artificial fly.

PHYS. I admire the fish, but I cannot admire the art by which it was taken; and I wonder how a man of your active mind and enthusiastic character can enjoy what appears to me a stupid and melancholy occupation.

HAL.-I might as well wonder in my turn, that a man of your discursive imagination and disposition to contemplation should not admire this occupation, and that you should venture to call it either stupid or melancholy.

PHYS. I have at least the authority of a

great moralist, Johnson, for its folly.

HAL.-I will allow no man, however great a philosopher, or moralist, to abuse an occupation he has not tried; and as well as I remember, this same illustrious person praised the book and the character of the great Patriarch of Anglers, Isaac Walton.

PHYS.-There is another celebrated man, however, who has abused this your patriarch, Lord Byron, and that in terms not very qualified. He calls him, as well as I can recol

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lect, "A quaint old cruel coxcomb."*

I

must say, a practice of this great fisherman, where he recommends you to pass the hook through the body of a frog with care, as though you loved him, in order to keep him alive longer, cannot but be considered as cruel.

HAL.-I do not justify either the expression or the practice of Walton in this instance; but remember, I fish only with inanimate baits, or imitations of them, and I will not exhume or expose the ashes of the dead, nor vindicate the memory of Walton, at the expense of Byron, who, like Johnson, was no fisherman: but the moral and religious habits of Walton, his simplicity of manners, and his well-spent life, exonerate him from the charge of cruelty; and the book of a coxcomb would not have been so great a favourite with most persons of re

* From Don Juan, Canto XII. Stanza CVI. "And Angling too, that solitary vice,

Whatever Isaac Walton sings or says:

The quaint old cruel coxcomb in his gullet
Should have a hook and a small trout to pull it."

fined taste. A noble lady, long distinguished at court for pre-eminent beauty and grace, and whose mind possesses undying charms, has written some lines in my copy of Walton, which, if you will allow me, I will repeat to you.

Albeit, gentle Angler, I

Delight not in thy trade,
Yet in thy pages there doth lie
So much of quaint simplicity,
So much of mind,

Of such good kind,

That none need be afraid,

Caught by thy cunning bait, this book,
To be ensnared on thy hook,

Gladly from thee, I'm lured to bear

With things that seemed most vile before,

For thou didst on poor subjects rear

Matter the wisest sage might hear.

And with a grace,

That doth efface

More laboured works, thy simple lore
Can teach us that thy skilful lines,

More than the scaly brood confines.

Our hearts and senses too, we see,
Rise quickly at thy master hand,
And ready to be caught by thee
Are lured to virtue willingly.

With health and ease,

Walk by thy side. At thy command

We bid adieu to worldly care,

And joy in gifts that all may share.

Gladly, with thee, I pace along,

And of sweet fancies dream;
Waiting till some inspired song,
Within my memory cherished long,
Comes fairer forth,

With more of worth;

Because that time upon its stream
Feathers and chaff will bear away,
But give to gems a brighter ray.

And though the charming and intellectual author of this poem is not an angler herself, yet I can quote the example of her lovely daughters to vindicate fly fishing from the charge of cruelty, and to prove that the most delicate and refined minds can take pleasure in this innocent amusement. One of these