as any age can produce: and his custom was to spend besides his fixed hours of prayer, (those hours which, by command of the church, were enjoined the clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to devotion by many primitive Christians,) I say, besides those hours, this good man was observed to spend 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 usually 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 to his house, would praise God he had spent that day free from worldly trouble; both harmlessly, and in a recreation that became a churchman. And this good man was well content, if not desirous, that posterity should know he was an Angler; as may appear by his picture, now to be seen, and carefully kept, in Brazen-nose College; to which he was a liberal benefactor. In which picture he is drawn, leaning on a desk, with his Bible before him; and on one hand of him, his lines, hooks, and other tackling, lying in a round; and, on his other hand, are his Angle-rods of several sorts; and by them this is written, "that he died 13 Feb. 1601, being aged 95 years, 44 of which he had been Dean of St. Paul's church; and that his age neither impaired his hearing,

(1) Fuller, in his Worthies, (Lancashire, page 115,) has thought it worth recording of this pious and learned divine, and that in language so very quaint as to be but just intelligible, that he was accustomed to fish in the Thames; and having one day left his bottle of ale in the grass, on the bank of the river, he found it some days after, no bottle but a gun, such the sound at the opening thereof. And hence, with what degree of sagacity let the reader determine, he seems to derive the original of bottled ale in England. Could he have shewn that the bottle was of leather, it is odds but he had attributed to him the invention of that noble vehicle, and made

his soul in heaven to dwell,

For first devising the leatharn bottel;

as, in a fit of maudlin devotion, sings the author of a humorous and wellknown old ballad.

nor dimmed his eyes, nor weakened his memory, nor made any of the faculties of his mind weak or useless." It is said that Angling and temperance were great causes of these blessings. And I wish the like to all that imitate him, and love the memory of so good a man.

My next and last example shall be that undervaluer of money, the late provost of Eton College, Sir Henry Wotton,' (a man with whom I have often fished and conversed,) a man whose foreign employments 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 practiser of the art of Angling; of which he would say, "it was an employment for his idle time, which was not then idly spent; for Angling was, after a tedious study, a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness;" and "that it begat habits of peace and patience in those that professed and practised it." Indeed, my friend, you will find Angling to be like the virtue of Humility, which has a calmness of spirit, and a world of other blessings attending upon 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 possessed him, as he sat quietly, in a summer's evening, on a bank a fishing. It is a description of the spring; which, because it

(1) Of whom see an account in the Life of Walton.

glided as soft and sweetly from his pen, as that river does at this time, by which it was then made, I shall repeat it unto you:

This day dame Nature seem'd in love;
The lusty sap began to move;
Fresh juice did stir th' embracing Vines;
And birds had drawn their Valentines.
The jealous Trout, that low did lie,
Rose at a well-dissembled flie;
There stood my friend, with patient skill,
Attending of his trembling quill
Already were the eaves possest

With the swift Pilgrim's daubed nest;
The groves already did rejoice,

In Philomel's triumphing voice

The showers were short, the weather mild,
The morning fresh, the evening smil'd.

Joan takes her neat-rubb'd pail, and now,
She trips to milk the sand-red Cow;
Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain,
Joan strokes a syllabub or twain.
The fields and gardens were beset
With Tulips, Crocus, Violet:

And now, though late, the modest Rose
Did more than half a blush disclose.

Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer,
To welcome the new-livery'd year.

These were the thoughts that then possessed the undisturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will you hear the wish of another Angler, and the commendation of his happy life, which he also sings in verse, viz. Jo. Davors, Esq.

Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink

Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place;
Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink
With eager bite of Perch, or Bleak, or Dace;

And on the world and my Creator think :

Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t'embrace;
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 Daises and the Violets blue,

Red Hyacinth, and yellow Daffodil,
Purple Narcissus like the morning rays,
Pale Gander-grass, and azure Culver-keyes.

(1) The Swallow.

I count it higher pleasure to behold
The stately compass of the lofty sky;
And in the midst thereof, like burning gold,
The flaming chariot of the world's great eye;
The wat'ry clouds that in the air up-roll'd

With sundry kinds of painted colours fly;
And fair Aurora, lifting up her head.
Still blushing, rise from old Tithonus' bed.

The hills and mountains raised from the plains,
The plains extended level with the ground;
The grounds divided into sundry veins,

The veins enclos'd with rivers running round;
These rivers, making way through nature's chains,
With headlong course into the sea profound;

The raging sea, beneath the vallies low,
Where lakes, and rills, and rivulets do flow:

The lofty woods, the forests wide and long,

Adorn'd with leaves and branches fresh and green,
In whose cool bowers the birds, with many a song,
Do welcome with their quire the summer's 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 brook's crystal, wat'ry 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 sky.

Sir, I am glad my memory has not lost these last verses, because they are somewhat more pleasant and more suitable to May-day than 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 Thatch'd-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.

Ven. Sir, you have angled me on with much pleasure to the Thatch'd-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 But now we are this house, till you shewed it to me.

at it, we'll turn into it, and refresh ourselves with a cup of drink, and a little rest.

Pisc. Most gladly, Sir, and we'll drink a civil cup to all the Otter-hunters that are to meet you to-morrow.

Ven. That we will, Sir, and to all the lovers of Angling too, of which number I am now willing to be one myself; 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 to-morrow at the time and place appointed, and bestow one day with me and my friends, in hunting the Otter, I will dedicate the next two days to wait upon you; and we two will, for that time, do nothing but angle, and talk of fish and fishing.

Pisc. It is a match, Sir, I will not fail you, God willing, to be at Amwell-hill to-morrow morning before sunrising.