Pet. I marry, Sir, this is music indeed; this has cheer'd my heart, and made me remember six verses in praise of music, which I will speak to you instantly.

themselves to perriwig-making, they had forgot their cittern and their music." Works of Dr. William King, vol. ii. p. 79.

And the knowledge of this fact will enable us to explain and justify a passage in Ben Jonson's comedy of The Silent Woman, which none of his annotators seem to have understood. Morose, in act III. scene 5. of that play, after he has discovered that his supposed wife can talk, and that to the purpose too, cries out of Cutberd, "That cursed barber!—I have married his cittern, that's common to all men." Mr. Upton, in his Notes on that play, supposes we should read cistern, i. e. the common sink, the common sewer, cistern, or receptacle: or, he says, we may read cittern in a sense that has no relation to a barber's shop. But whether the circumstance above mentioned, does not render any such conjecture needless, the ingenious reader will determine.

Mr. Henry Lawes, who composed the music to this song, was the Purcell of the age he lived in: Mr. Waller has honoured him with a Copy of Verses, inscribed "To Mr. Henry Lawes, who had then new set a song of mine, in the year 1635." And Milton has celebrated his merit in an elegant sonnet "to Mr. H. Lawes, on his Airs." Milton was an excellent judge and performer of music; a particular which, as it has been very superficially mentioned by the many writers of his life, it may not be amiss to enlarge on here. And first, we are to know, that his affection to this art was, in some sort, hereditary; for his father was not only a lover, but a composer of music: the common melody, known by the name of York Psalm-tune, which most country chimes play, and half the nurses in this kingdom sing by way of lullaby, was of his composition, as appears by Ravenscroft's Collection of Psalm-tunes, and other evidences. He also composed many madrigals, in four and five parts: some of which are to be seep in the Triumphs of Oriana, a collection of madrigals to five and six voices, composed by divers authors, 4to. Lond. 1601; and in other collections. And lastly, it appears from the Life of Milton, by his nephew Phillips, prefixed to a Translation of some of his Letters of State, printed in 12mo. 1694, that Milton, the father, composed an In Nomine of forty parts, for which he was rewarded, by a Polish prince to whom he presented it, with a gold medal and chain. And we are also told, by the above-mentioned nephew of Milton, that, when he was upon his travels, he collected a chest or two of choice music books of the best masters flourishing at that time in Italy, namely, Luca Marenzio, Monteverde, Horatio Vecchi, Cifra, the Prince of Venosa, and others.

It should seem that Lawes and Milton were well acquainted; for the former composed the original music to the Masque of Comus, and at the exhibition of that performance at Ludlow-castle, acted the part of the attendant Spirit. The best account extant of him, except that in the Athen. Oxon. is contained in Mr. Fenton's note on the poem of Mr. Waller, above mentioned.

And, now I am upon this subject, I will tell the reader a secret; which is, That music was in its greatest perfection in Europe from about the middle of the sixteenth to the beginning of the seventeenth century; when, with a variety of treble-instruments, a vicious taste was introduced, and vocal harmony received its mortal wound. In this period flourished Palestrina, the Prince of Venosa, and the several other authors above mentioned to have been collected by Milton, and, to the immortal honour of this nation, our own Tallis and Byrd; and some years after, in the more elegant kinds of composition, such as madrigals, canzonets, &c. Wilbye, Weelkes, Bennet, Morley, Bateson, and others, whose works shew deep skill and fine invention.

Music! miraculous rhet'ric, that speak'st sense
Without a tongue, excelling eloquence;
With what ease might thy errors be excus'd,
Wert thou as truly lov'd as th' art abus'd!

But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee,

I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee.I

Ven. And the repetition of these last verses of music has called to my memory what Mr. Ed. Waller, a lover of the angle,' says of love and music.

(1) See these Verses, with some small variation, at the end of the book, entitled, Select Ayres and Dialogues, referred to from p. 105, n.; with " W.D. knight," under the bottom line, which I take to signify, that they were written by Sir William Davenant.

And let me be excused, if, from the same book, I here insert the following verses, on the subject of music, written by Mr. Thomas Randolph, and printed among his Poems.

Music! thou queen of souls, get up and string

Thy pow'rful lute; and some sad Requiem sing,
Till rocks requite thy echo with a groan,
And the dull cliffs repeat the duller tone:
Then on a sudden, with a nimble hand,
Run gently o'er the chords, and so command
The pine to dance, the oak his roots forego,
The holm and aged elm to foot it too;
Myrtles shall caper, lofty cedars run,
And call the courtly palm to make up one:
-Then in the midst of all their jolly train,

Strike a sad note, and fix them trees again."

(2) As the author's concern for the honour of angling induced him to enumerate such persons of note as were lovers of that recreation, the Reader will allow me to add Mr. John Gay to the number. Any one who reads the first canto of his Georgic, entitled Rural Sports, and observes how beautifully and accurately he treats the subject of fly-fishing, would conclude the author a proficient but that it was his chief amusement, I have been assured by an intimate friend of mine, who has frequently fished with him in the river Kennet, at Amesbury, in Wilts, the seat of his grace the Duke of Queensbury,

The Reader will excuse the following addition to this note, for the sake of a beautiful description of the materials used in fly-making, which is quoted from the above-mentioned poem.

"To frame the little animal, provide

All the gay hues that wait on female pride:

Let nature guide thee; sometimes golden wire
The shining bellies of the fly require;
The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail,
Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail;
Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings,
And lends the growing insect proper wings;
Silks of all colours must their aid impart,
And ev'ry fur promote the fisher's art:
So the gay lady, with expensive care,
Borrows the pride of land, of sea, of air;

Furs, pearls, and plumes, the glittering thing displays,

Dazzles our eyes, and easy hearts betrays."

While I listen to thy voice,

Chloris, I feel my life decay;

That powerful noise

Calls my fleeting soul away:
Oh! suppress that magic sound,
Which destroys without a wound.

Peace, Chloris, peace, or singing die,
That together you and I

To heaven may go;

For all we know

Of what the blessed do above,

Is, that they sing, and that they love.

Pisc. Well remembered, brother Peter; these verses came seasonably, and we thank you heartily. Come, we will all join together, my host and all, and sing my scholar's catch over again; and then each man drink the other cup, and to bed; and thank God we have a dry house over our heads.

Pisc. Well, now good night to every body.

Pet. And so say

I.

Ven. And so say I.

Cor. Good night to you all; and I thank you.

Pisc. Good-morrow, brother Peter; and the like to you, honest Coridon.

Come, my hostess says there is seven shillings to pay: let's each man drink a pot for his morning's draught, and lay down his two shillings, that so my hostess may not have occasion to repent herself of being so diligent, and using us so kindly.

Pet. The motion is liked by every body, and so, hostess, here's your money; we anglers are all beholden to you; it will not be long ere I'll see you again. And now, brother Piscator, I wish you, and my brother your scholar, a fair day and good fortune. Come Coridon, this is our way.

CHAP. XVII.

of ROACH and DACE, and how to fish for them: and of Cadis.

Venator. Good master, as we go now towards London, be still so courteous as to give me more instructions; for I have several boxes in my memory, in which I will keep them all very safe, there shall not one of them be lost. Pisc. Well, scholar, that I will: and I will hide nothing from you that I can remember, and can think may help you forward towards a perfection in this art. And because we have so much time, and I have said so little of Roach and Dace, I will give you some directions concerning them.

so called from rutilus, which He is a fish of no great repuand his spawn is accounted And

Some say the Roach is they say signifies red fins. tation for his dainty taste; much better than any part of him. you may take notice, that as the Carp is accounted the water-fox, for his cunning; so the Roach is accounted the water-sheep, for his simplicity or foolishness. It is noted, that the Roach and Dace recover strength, and grow in season in a fortnight after spawning; the Barbel and Chub in a month; the Trout in four months; and the Salmon in the like time, if he gets into the sea, and after into fresh

water.

Roaches be accounted much better in the river than in a pond, though ponds usually breed the biggest. But there is a kind of bastard small Roach, that breeds in ponds, with a very forked tail, and of a very small size; which some say is bred by the Bream and right Roach; and some ponds are stored with these beyond belief; and knowing-men, that know their difference, call them Ruds: they differ from the true Roach, as much as a Herring

from a Pilchard. And these bastard breed of Roach are now scattered in many rivers: but I think not in the Thames, which I believe affords the largest and fattest in this nation, especially below London-bridge.' The Roach

(1) I know not what Roaches are caught below bridge; but above, I am sure they are very large; for on the 15th of September, 1754, at Hampton, I caught one that was fourteen inches and an eighth from eye to fork, and in weight wanted but an ounce of two pounds.

The season for fishing for Roach in the Thames begins about the latter end of August, and continues much longer than it is either pleasant or safe to fish. It requires some skill to hit the time of taking them exactly; for all the summer long they live on the weed, which they do not forsake, for the deeps, till it becomes putrid, and that is sooner or later, according as the season is wet or dry; for you are to know, that much rain hastens the rotting of the weed. I say it requires some skill to hit the time; for the fishermen who live in all the towns along the river, from Chiswick to Staines, are, about this time, nightly upon the watch, as soon as the fish come out, to sweep them away with a drag-net: and our poor patient angler is left, baiting the ground and adjusting his tackle, to catch those very fish which, perhaps, the night before had been carried to Billingsgate.

The Thames, as well above as below London-bridge, was formerly much resorted to by London anglers; and, which is strange to think on, considering the unpleasantness of the station, they were used to fish near the starlings of the bridge. This will account for the many fishing-tackle shops that were formerly in Crooked-lane, which leads to the bridge. In the memory of a person not long since living, a waterman that plied at Essex-stairs, his name John Reeves, got a comfortable living by attending anglers with his boat: his method was, to watch when the shoals of Roach came down from the country, and, when he had found them, to go round to his customers and give them notice. Sometimes they settled opposite the Temple; at others, at Black-friars or Queen-hitle; but most frequently about the Chalk-hills, near London-bridge. His hire was two shillings a tide. A certain number of persons, who were accustomed thus to employ him, raised a sum sufficient to buy him a waterman's coat, and silver badge, the impress whereof was, "Himself, with an Angler, in his boat;" and he had, annually, a new coat to the time of his death, which might be about the year 1730.

Shepperton and Hampton are the places chiefly resorted to by the Londoners, who angle there in boats at each there is a large deep, to which Roach are attracted by constant baiting. That at Hampton is opposite the church-yard; and in that cemetery lies an angler, upon whose grave-stone is an inscription, now nearly effaced, consisting of these homely lines.

In memory of Mr. Thomas Tombs, goldsmith, of London, who departed this life Aug. 12th, 1758, aged 53 years.

Each brother Bob, that sportive passes here,
Pause at this stone, and drop the silent tear,
For him who lov'd your harmless sport;

Who to this pitch did oft resort;
Who in free converse oft would please,
With native humour, mirth and ease;

His actions form'd upon so just a plan,
He liv'd a worthy, died an honest man.

* A particular spot, called a Pitch, from the act of pitching or fastening the boat there.