Seest how the salmons (water's colder nation) Lately arriv'd from their sea navigation, [fashion?, How joy leaps in their heart, shew by their leaping IV. What witch enchants thy minde with sullen madnesse? [plaining. When all things smile, thou only sitt'st com ALGON. Damon, I, only I, have cause of sadnesse : V. DAMON. Within bur Darwin', in her rockie cell, A nymph there lives, which thousand boyes hath Ay me, that spite with beautie should be arm'd!) 2 The salmon, during the winter season, constantly frequents the sea, where the water is warmer, and not subject to be frozen, as the rivers are; but, upon the approach of spring, they steer up the rivers, where, in the warm weather, they deposite their spawn. Their power of surmounting the most surprising obstacles in their way, is as well known as it is curious. When a weire or a flood-gate comes in their way, they will not take their leap immediately, but remain still for a while in some pool, till they gather strength after the fatigue of swimming, and then con.ing below the flood-gate, they bend themselves in a circle, with their tail in their mouth, and, exerting their utmost force, spring upwards sometimes to the height of eight feet perpendicular. This is described by Ausonius: Nec te puniceo rutilantem viscere, Salmo, Transierim, latæ cujus vaga verbera caudæ Gurgite de medio summas referuntur in undas. And our countryman, the ingenious Mr. Moses Browne, in his excellent Piscatory Eclogues, has given a very accurate and poetical representation of what I have here related, from which I shall transcribe a few lines. What various tribes to Ocean's realms belong, VI. Damon, what Tryphon taught thine eye the art spell. Ah, she it is, an earthly Heav'n and Hell, VII. Poore boy! the wounds which spite and love im- The fishes cold flame with this strong disease, VIII. If for thy love no other cure there be, [and art, Love, thou art curelesse: gifts, pray'rs, vows, She scorns both you and me: nay, Love, even thee: Thou sigh'st her prisoner, while she laughs as free. I oft have tried, and show'd the earnful smart disdain: [spent in vain. Grief, love, gifts, vows, pray'rs, art, ye all are IX. DAMON. Algon, oft hast thou fish'd, but sped not straight; With hook and net thou beat'st the water round: Oft-times the place thou changest, oft the bait; And, catching nothing, still and still dost wait: Learn by thy trade to cure thee: time hath found In desp'rate cures, a salve for ev'ry wound. strook. X. The marble's self is pierc'd with drops of rain: In her strange heart (weep I, burn, pine, or die;) The whole county of Derby (and the banks of this XIII. Speak to her boy. The rock that bears her name, breeds that hard stone With goat's blood only soft'ned; she with none: More precious she, and ah more hard than diamond. XI. That rock I think her mother: thence she took Her name and nature. Damon, Damon, see? none 4 her no. AIGON. Love is more deaf than blinde. She must be woo'd. said she, "good general, leave the angling line to us kings and queens of Pharos and Canopus; it becomes you to angle for cities, kingdoms, and princes."- -Plutarch, Marc. Anton. The amusement of angling is one of those which are most natural to man, as well as most delightful. We may account for our relish for this, as well as for some others of the like sports, from an original and instinctive principle in our nature. In the early ages of society, man has recourse to fishing, hunting, and fowling, for his sole subsistence: he is instructed by natural instinct in the means of rendering inferior animals subservient to his use; and Providence has bountifully ordained, that those actions which are necessary for our preservation, should constantly be attended with a sense of pleasure. It is not then to be wondered amusement, on which, in particular circumstances, at, that we should take delight in that as an we must depend for our support. The innocence of angling, and the beautiful scene. A stone called Nicæa, which has that fabulous with which it is acquainted, have particularly recomproperty here remarked. The women here are described as fishing, not with the net, but with the line and hook, which is a manner of fishing less laborious and more pleasing. The practice of angling with the line and rod has been known in all ages, as appears from the oldest of the classical writers, and from many passages in scripture: Job, chap. xli. 1, 2.-Amos, chap. iv. 2.-Isaiah, chap. xix. 8. Some have supposed it to have been invented with other useful arts by Seth the son of Adam. Theocritus, in his Felogue of the Fishers, not only describes the manner of playing the bait, but all the materials for angling, as the line made of horse-hair, &c.-Tnat angling was in use as an amusement in ancient days, appears from many authorities, particularly from the humourous story of Anthony and Cleopatra. ap Anthony took particular pleasure in angling. and Cleopatra and he used often to amuse themselves with that recreation; but being one day attended with bad luck, and much concerned to appear before the queen without his usual address and good fortune, he gave orders to some of his fishermen to dive secretly under water, and to fasten to his hook some of the largest fishes which they had taken in their nets. His orders were punctually executed: Cleopatra expressed in pearance great surprize and admiration every time he drew up his line; but being well apprised of the artifice, she caused one of her own attendants to dive secretly under water, and to fasten to Anthony's hook a large dried fish of that kind which is brought from Postus. When Anthony drew up his line. the whole company was highly diverted at the sight of the salt-fish, and laughed heartily at the triumvir's extraordinary good luck; but he putting on a serious air, and seeming not to relish the joke, the queen took him in her arms; 16 Leave," mended it to many men of genius, especially such as are fond of retirement and contemplation. Were I to enumerate these, I should mention a Wotton, a Waller, a Gay, and indeed innumerable others; some of whom, who have given proofs of a genius suited to a higher theme, have not discned to employ their pen on the subject of angling. Of is stiled, the Father of Anglers; the amiable Mr. Isaac Walton. His book is indeed a treasure; and the test of his merit is, that it recommends itself to all readers, even to those who have not the least inclination to the art which it teaches. The delightful scenes which he so artlessly describes, the ingenious simplicity of his observations, and the candour and honesty of heart which shine in every page, have well entitled it to the rank of a classical performance. Walton's Compleat Angler has gone through many editions, the best of which is that published in 1760, with critical and explanatory notes by Mr. Hawkins of Twickenham, whose sentiments and stile are peculiarly adapted to those of the author whom he illustrates. Waiton was likewise an excellent biographer, and wrote the lives of Dr. Donne, Sir Henry Wotton, Bishop Sanderson, Mr. George Herbert, and Mr. Richard Booker. all of them his cotemporaries. these I shall but mention one, who from eminence - While upon the subject of the pleasures of angling, I will transcribe, as a specimen of the powers of a modern to imitate the older poets, a short passage which has many beauties. Let ns our steps direct where father-Thame In silver windings draws his humid train, And pours, where-e'er be rolls his naval stream, Pomp on the city, plenty o'er the plain : Or by the banks of Isis shall we stray, (Ah, why so long from Isis' banks away!) Where thousand damsels dance, and thousand shepherds play? ALGON. DAMON His inward grief in outward change appears ; His cheeks with sudden fires bright-faming glow; Which, quenchid, end all in ashes: storms of teares Thick tides of passions ever ebbe and flow : NICÆA. Speech is love's dart. Algon. DAMON. ALGON. DAMON, ALGON. DAMON. Who silent loves ? ALGON, DAMON. ALGON. DAMON. Damon, the wounds deep-rankling in the minde XVI. ALCON. Hard maid ! 'tis worse to mock than make a wound: (see Why should'st thou then (fair cruel!) scorn to What thou by seeing mad'st? my sorrow's ground Was in thy eye, may by thine eye be found : Pow can thine eye most sharp in wounding be, In seeing dull? these two are one in thee, XVII. ALGON. What, ho! thou fairest maid, turn back thine oare, What cures thy wounded heart? Thy heart so wounded. Is't love to wound thy love? NICÆA. NICAA. DAMON. ALGON. NICAA. ALGON. NICÆA, ALCON. Ah, gentlest nymph! oft have I heard, thy art Love's wounds are pleasing. Why plain'st thou then? Because thou art unwounded. Love steals his silent arrows on my breast; Cures are discases, when the wounds are easing : You, dear lanthe, you alone impart Why would'st thou have me please thee by disBalın to my wounds, and cordial to my smart : pleasing? The apple of mine eye! the life-blood of my heart! Scorn'd love is death ; love's mutual wounds de' With line of silk, with hook of barbed steel, lighting : Beneath this oaken umbrage let us lye, Happie thy love, my love to thine uniting. fing. And from the water's crystal bosom steal Love paying debts grows rich; requited in requit. Upon the grassy bank the fiony prey : XVIII. The perch, with purple speckled many fold; The eel, in silver lab'rinth self-inroll’d, : [gold. What, lives alone Nicæa! starres most chaste And carp, all burnish'd o'er with drops of scaly Have their conjunctions, sphearts their mixt Or shall the meads invite, with Iris-hues embraces, And Nature's pencil gay diversify'd, And mutual folds. Nothing can single last : (For now the Sun hath lick'd away the dews), But die in living, in increasing waste. Fair-flushing, and bedeck'd like virgin-bride! -Amante e il Cielo, amante Quella, che là sù miri inanzi a l'alba Hymn to May, by W. Thompson Cosi leggiadra stella, William Thompson, an excellent modern poet, Arde d'amor anch'ella, ed essa ehe'nnamorawas a professed admirer of Phineas Fletcher's Innamorata splende: poetry, and in his preface to the beautiful hymn E questa è forse l'hora to May, from which the above stanzas are Che le furtive sue dolcezze, el seno taken, he declares he intended that composition Del caro amante lassa, as an imitation of Fletcher and of Spenser. Volila pur come sfavilla e ride. poems are printed at Oxford, 1757. Pastor Fido di.GUARINI, att, 1. sc. 1. DAMON. 6 6 His XIX. 1. NICŁA, ALGON. NICAA. 11. XX, ALGON, NICAA. ALCON. III. A FISHER - BOY, that never knew his peer With folded arms, deep sighs, and heavy cheer, inne, Love perfects what it loves; thus thy affection, Married to mine, makes mines and thy perfection. Sunk down by Chamus' brinks ; with him his deare! Deare Thirsil lay ; oft-times would be begin To cure his grief, and better way advise ; Well, then, to pass our Tryphon in his art, But still his words, when his sad friend he spies, And in a moment cure a wounded heart; Forsook his silent tongue, to speak his watrie eyes. If fairest Darwin, whom I serve, approve Thy suit, and thou wilt not thy heart remore, I'll join my heart to thine, and answer thee in love. Under a sprouting vine they carelesse lie, Whose tender leaves bit with the eastern blast," But now were born, and now began to die; The Sanne is set; adieu. The latter, warned by the former's haste, Thinly for fear salute the envious skie: 'Tis set to me; Thus as they sat, Thirsil, embracing fast Thy parting is my ev'n, thy presence lights His loved friend, feeling his panting heart To give no rest to his increasing smart, Farewell. At length thus spake, while sighs words to his griefs impart. Thou giv'st thy wish ; it is in thee: 1 Unlesse thou wilt, hap sse I cannot be. DAMON. Thomalin, I see thy Thirsil thou neglectest, Come, Algon, cheerly home; the thievish night Some greater love holds down thy heart in fear Steals on the world, and robs onr eyes of sight. Thy Thirsil's love and counsel thou rejectest; The silver streams grow black : home let us coast : Thy soul was wont to lodge within my eare: There of love's conquest may we safely hoast : But now that port no longer thou respectest; Soonest in love he winnes, that oft in love hath lost, Yet hath it still been safely harbour'd there. My eare is not acquainted with my tongue, 7 This dialogue, between the lover and his That either tongue er eare should do thee wrong: mistress, is by far too pedantic and affected. Why then should’st thou conceal thy bidden grief Reasoning at any rate, in making love, is absurd so long? and unnatural, as I imagine few mistresses have ever been convinced by argumentation into an) affection for their lovers. Much more is this pointed and quibbling manner of arguing to be Thirsil, it is thy love that makes me hide My smother'd grief from thy known faithful eare: condemned, and all that can be alledged in the May still my Thirsil safe and merry, bide; author's vindication is, that depraved taste, now happily exploded, but which prevailed universally For while thy breast in Heav'n doth safely ride, Enough is me my hidden grief to bear : at the time he wrote, and had not lost much ground even in the time of Cowley and Waller. My greater half with thee rides safely there. My Thomalin, sinks laden with bis smart : Thus thou my finger cur'st, and wounds my bleed. ing heart. THIRSIL. IV. THOMALIN. THIRSIL. TUOMALIN. How oft bath Thomalin to Thirsil vow'd, That as his heart so be his love esteem'd? Where are those oaths ? Where is that heart Thomalin is painted lying oppress'd with grief on [deemid, the banks of Chame. Thirsil his friend en- Which licies it from that breast which deare it deavours to comfort him, and enquires the cause And to that heart room in his heart allow'd? of his amiction. Thomalin describes to him his That love was never love, but only seem'd. feelings, but is ignorant of the cause till Thirsil discovers that he is in love, and froin his own 1 The Chamę and Cambridge have been conexperience enumerates the various disguises secrated to the Muses from a very early age. which love assumes to enter the heart. Thirsil See Ecl. i. v. 7. and tbe note. bestow'd THOMALIN. [and Hell: XI. THIRSIL. Tell me, my Thomalin, what envious thief VI. THOMAIIN. Thirsil, my joyous spring is blasted quite, And winter storms prevent the summer's ray: All as this vine, whose green the eastern spite Hath dy'd to black, his catching arms decay, And letting go their hold for want of right, Marl'd winter comes so soon, in first of May. THIRSIL. Yet sée, the leaves do freshly bud again: VII. No marvel, Thirsil, if thou dost not know Knows not the wo it feels: the worse my wound, Thousand fond passions in my breast abound ; Fear leagu'd to joy, hope, and despair, together 2,. Sighs bound to smiles, my heart, though prone to either, While both it would obey, 'twixt both, obeyeth neither. VIII. Oft blushing flames leap up into my face, My guiltless cheek such purple flash admires : My heart though griev'd, his grief as joy desires: IX. Too true my fears: alas no wicked sprite, No writhel'd witch, with spells of pow'rful charms, Or hellish herbs digg'd in as hellish night, Gives to thy heart these oft and fierce alarms: But love, too hateful love, with pleasing spite. And spiteful pleasure, thus hath bred thy harms; And seeks thy mirth with pleasance to destroy. 'Tis love, my Thomalin, my liefest boy; "Tis love robs me of thee, and thee of all thy joy. 2 Museus's Leander is in a situation still more strange than our Thomalin, for, upon the sight of his mistress Hero, he is at one and the same time stupid, impudent, bashful and timorous. Ειλε δε μιν τοτε θαμβος ἀναιδίη, τρόμος, αίδως. Thirsil, I ken not what is hate or love, Jove Heav'n rules, Love, Jove, Heav'n, Earth Ah, heedlesse boy! Love is not such a lad With golden quivers,) in Thessalian plain, XII. Love's sooner felt than seen: his substance thinne Betwixt those snowy mounts in ambush lics: Oft in the eyes he spreads his subtle ginne*; He therefore soonest winnes that fastest flies. Fly thence, my deare, fly fast, my Thomalin: Who bim encounters once, for ever dies: But if he lurk between the ruddy lips, Unhappie soul that thence his nectar sips, While down into his heart the sugred poison slips. XIII. Oft in a voice he creeps down through the eare; And if all fail, yet Virtue's self he'll hire: + Mà qual cosa è più picciola d'amore E cosi immedicabili le piaghe. AMINTA di TASSO, act. 2. sc. 1. Golden hair, or, as a humourous song calls it, classical hair, is reckoned by Porta, and the physiognomists, a mark of a warm and amorous disposition. Many people are apt to be surprised with the encomiums which the pocts in all ages have lavished on golden locks: the epithet is now become so familiar from being often applied to express beauty, that it naturally conveys to the ear an agreeable idea, and yet they find the eye disgusted whenever they meet with it in nature. These people are in a mistake. The golden hair which is celebrated by the poets is not that fiery complexion of hair which we meet with frequently in this country; nor has the one more resemblance to the other than the colour of a burning coal to Let them contem. the golden beams of the Sun. plate the pictures of Guido, of Titian, and 'the capital painters; and in their female figures they will admire the beauties of the golden hair. It is |