the love affairs of a bibliomaniac-第8部分

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London　‘‘Punch。''

Ah；　Yseult！　hadst　thou　but　been　a　book！





VII

THE　DELIGHTS　OF　FENDER…FISHING

I　should　like　to　have　met　Izaak　Walton。　　He　is　one　of　the　few　authors　whom　I　know　I　should　like　to　have　met。　　For　he　was　a　wise　man；　and　he　had　understanding。　　I　should　like　to　have　gone　angling　with　him；　for　I　doubt　not　that　like　myself　he　was　more　of　an　angler　theoretically　than　practically。　　My　bookseller　is　a　famous　fisherman；　as；　indeed；　booksellers　generally　are；　since　the　methods　employed　by　fishermen　to　deceive　and　to　catch　their　finny　prey　are　very　similar　to　those　employed　by　booksellers　to　attract　and　to　entrap　buyers。

As　for　myself；　I　regard　angling　as　one　of　the　best　of　avocations；　and　although　I　have　pursued　it　but　little；　I　concede　that　doubtless　had　I　practised　it　oftener　I　should　have　been　a　better　man。　　How　truly　has　Dame　　Juliana　Berners　said　that　‘‘at　the　least　the　angler　hath　his　wholesome　walk　and　merry　at　his　ease；　and　a　sweet　air　of　the　sweet　savour　of　the　mead　flowers　that　maketh　him　hungry；　he　heareth　the　melodious　harmony　of　fowls；　he　seeth　the　young　swans；　herons；　ducks；　cotes；　and　many　other　fowls　with　their　broods；　which　meseemeth　better　than　all　the　noise　of　hounds；　the　blasts　of　horns；　and　the　cry　of　fowls　that　hunters；　falconers；　and　fowlers　can　make。　　And　IF　the　angler　take　fishsurely　then　is　there　no　man　merrier　than　he　is　in　his　spirit！''

My　bookseller　cannot　understand　how　it　is　that；　being　so　enthusiastic　a　fisherman　theoretically；　I　should　at　the　same　time　indulge　so　seldom　in　the　practice　of　fishing；　as　if；　forsooth；　a　man　should　be　expected　to　engage　continually　and　actively　in　every　art　and　practice　of　which　he　may　happen　to　approve。　　My　young　friend　Edward　Ayer　has　a　noble　collection　of　books　relating　to　the　history　of　American　aboriginals　and　to　the　wars　waged　between　those　Indians　and　the　settlers　in　this　country；　my　other　young　friend　Luther　Mills　has　gathered　together　a　　multitude　of　books　treating　of　the　Napoleonic　wars；　yet　neither　Ayer　nor　Mills　hath　ever　slain　a　man　or　fought　a　battle；　albeit　both　find　delectation　in　recitals　of　warlike　prowess　and　personal　valor。　　I　love　the　night　and　all　the　poetic　influences　of　that　quiet　time；　but　I　do　not　sit　up　all　night　in　order　to　hear　the　nightingale　or　to　contemplate　the　astounding　glories　of　the　heavens。

For　similar　reasons；　much　as　I　appreciate　and　marvel　at　the　beauties　of　early　morning；　I　do　not　make　a　practice　of　early　rising；　and　sensible　as　I　am　to　the　charms　of　the　babbling　brook　and　of　the　crystal　lake；　I　am　not　addicted　to　the　practice　of　wading　about　in　either　to　the　danger　either　to　my　own　health　or　to　the　health　of　the　finny　denizens　in　those　places。

The　best　anglers　in　the　world　are　those　who　do　not　catch　fish；　the　mere　slaughter　of　fish　is　simply　brutal；　and　it　was　with　a　view　to　keeping　her　excellent　treatise　out　of　the　hands　of　the　idle　and　the　inappreciative　that　Dame　Berners　incorporated　that　treatise　in　a　compendious　book　whose　cost　was　so　large　that　only　‘‘gentyll　and　noble　men''　　could　possess　it。　　What　mind　has　he　who　loveth　fishing　merely　for　the　killing　it　involveswhat　mind　has　such　a　one　to　the　beauty　of　the　ever…changing　panorama　which　nature　unfolds　to　the　appreciative　eye；　or　what　communion　has　he　with　those　sweet　and　uplifting　influences　in　which　the　meadows；　the　hillsides；　the　glades；　the　dells；　the　forests；　and　the　marshes　abound？

Out　upon　these　vandals；　I　sayout　upon　the　barbarians　who　would　rob　angling　of　its　poesy；　and　reduce　it　to　the　level　of　the　butcher's　trade！　　It　becomes　a　base　and　vicious　avocation；　does　angling；　when　it　ceases　to　be　what　Sir　Henry　Wotton　loved　to　call　it　‘‘an　employment　for　his　idle　time；　which　was　then　not　idly　spent；　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　a　begetter　of　habits　of　peace　and　patience　in　those　that　professed　and　practised　it！''

There　was　another　man　I　should　like　to　have　metSir　Henry　Wotton；　for　he　was　an　ideal　angler。　　Christopher　North；　too　（‘‘an　excellent　angler　and　now　with　God''！）　　how　I　should　love　to　have　explored　the　Yarrow　with　him；　for　he　was　a　man　of　vast　soul；　vast　learning；　and　vast　wit。

‘‘Would　you　believe　it；　my　dear　Shepherd；''　said　he；　‘‘that　my　piscatory　passions　are　almost　dead　within　me；　and　I　like　now　to　saunter　along　the　banks　and　braes；　eying　the　younkers　angling；　or　to　lay　me　down　on　some　sunny　spot；　and　with　my　face　up　to　heaven；　watch　the　slow…changing　clouds！''

THERE　was　the　angling　genius　with　whom　I　would　fain　go　angling！

‘‘Angling；''　says　our　revered　St。　Izaak；　‘‘angling　is　somewhat　like　poetrymen　are　to　be　born　so。''

Doubtless　there　are　poets　who　are　not　anglers；　but　doubtless　there　never　was　an　angler　who　was　not　also　a　poet。　　Christopher　North　was　a　famous　fisherman；　he　began　his　career　as　such　when　he　was　a　child　of　three　years。　　With　his　thread　line　and　bent…pin　hook　the　wee　tot　set　out　to　make　his　first　cast　in　‘‘a　wee　burnie''　he　had　discovered　near　his　home。　　He　caught　his　fish；　too；　and　for　the　rest　of　the　day　he　carried　the　miserable　little　specimen　about　on　a　　plate；　exhibiting　it　triumphantly。　　With　that　first　experience　began　a　life　which　I　am　fain　to　regard　as　one　glorious　song　in　praise　of　the　beauty　and　the　beneficence　of　nature。

My　bookseller　once　took　me　angling　with　him　in　a　Wisconsin　lake　which　was　the　property　of　a　club　of　anglers　to　which　my　friend　belonged。　　As　we　were　to　be　absent　several　days　I　carried　along　a　box　of　books；　for　I　esteem　appropriate　reading　to　be　a　most　important　adjunct　to　an　angling　expedition。　　My　bookseller　had　with　him　enough　machinery　to　stock　a　whaling　expedition；　and　I　could　not　help　wondering　what　my　old　Walton　would　think；　could　he　drop　down　into　our　company　with　his　modest　equipment　of　hooks；　flies；　and　gentles。

The　lake　whither　we　went　was　a　large　and　beautiful　expanse；　girt　by　a　landscape　which　to　my　fancy　was　the　embodiment　of　poetic　delicacy　and　suggestion。　　I　began　to　inquire　about　the　chub；　dace；　and　trouts；　but　my　bookseller　lost　no　time　in　telling　me　that　the　lake　had　been　rid　of　all　cheap　fry；　and　had　been　stocked　with　game　fish；　such　as　bass　and　pike。　

I　did　not　at　all　relish　this　covert　sneer　at　traditions　which　I　have　always　reverenced；　and　the　better　acquainted　I　became　with　my　bookseller's　modern　art　of　angling　the　less　I　liked　it。　　I　have　little　love　for　that　kind　of　angling　which　does　not　admit　of　a　simultaneous　enjoyment　of　the　surrounding　beauties　of　nature。　　My　bookseller　enjoined　silence　upon　me；　but　I　did　not　heed　the　injunction；　for　I　must；　indeed；　have　been　a　mere　wooden　effigy　to　hold　my　peace　amid　that　picturesque　environment　of　hill；　valley；　wood；　meadow；　and　arching　sky　of　clear　blue。

It　was　fortunate　for　me　that　I　had　my　‘‘Noctes　Ambrosianae''　along；　for　when　I　had　exhausted　my　praise　of　the　surrounding　glories　of　nature；　my　bookseller　would　not　converse　with　me；　so　I　opened　my　book　and　read　to　him　that　famous　passage　between　Kit　North　and　the　Ettrick　Shepherd；　wherein　the　shepherd　discourses　boastfully　of　his　prowess　as　a　piscator　of　sawmon。

As　the　sun　approached　midheaven　and　its　heat　became　insupportable；　I　raised　my　umbrella；　to　this　sensible　proceeding　my　bookseller　objectedin　fact；　there　was　　hardly　any　reasonable　suggestion　I　had　to　make　for　beguiling　the　time　that　my　bookseller　did　not　protest　against　it；　and　when　finally　I　produced　my　‘‘Newcastle　Fisher's　Garlands''　from　my　basket；　and　began　to　troll　those　spirited　lines　beginning


　　　　　Away　wi'　carking　care　and　gloom　　　　　　　That　make　life's　pathway　weedy　O！　　　A　cheerful　glass　makes　flowers　to　bloom　　　　　　　And　lightsome　hours　fly　speedy　O！

he　gathered　in　his　rod　and　tackle；　and　declared　that　it　was　no　use　trying　to　catch　fish　while　Bedlam　ran　riot。

As　for　me；　I　had　a　delightful　time　of　it；　I　caught　no　fish；　to　be　sure：　but　what　of　that？　　I　COULD　have　caught　fish　had　I　so　desired；　but；　as　I　have　already　intimated　to　you　and　as　I　have　always　maintained　and　always　shall；　the　mere　catching　of　fish　is　the　least　of　the　many　enjoyments　comprehended　in　the　broad；　gracious　art　of　angling。

Even　my　bookseller　was　compelled　to　admit　ultimately　that　I　was　a　worthy　disciple　of　Walton；　for　when　we　had　returned　to　the　club　house　and　had　partaken　of　our　supper　I　regaled　the　company　with　many　a　　cheery　tale　and　merry　song　which　I　had　gathered　from　my　books。　　Indeed；　before　I　returned　to　the　city　I　was　elected　an　honorary　member　of　the　club　by　acclamation　not　for　the　number　of　fish　I　had　expiscated　（for　I　did　not　catch　one）；　but　for　that　mastery　of　the　science　of　angling　and　the　literature　and　the　traditions　and　the　religion　and　the　philosophy　thereof　which；　by　the　grace　of　the　companionship　of　books；　I　had　achieved。

It　is　said　that；　with　his　feet　over　the　fender；　Macaulay　could　discourse　learnedly　of　French　poetry；　art；　and　philosophy。　　Yet　he　never　visited　Paris　that　he　did　not　experience　the　most　exasperating　difficulties　in　making　himself　understood　by　the　French　customs　officers。

In　like　manner　I　am　a　fender…fisherman。　　With　my　shins　toasting　before　a　roaring　fire；　and　with　Judge　Methuen　at　my　side；　I　love　to　exploit　the　joys　and　the　glories　of　angling。　　The　Judge　is　‘‘a　brother　of　the　angle；''　as　all　will　allow　who　have　heard　him　tell　Father　Prout's　story　of　the　bishop　and　the　turbots　or　heard　him　sing　

　　With　angle　rod　and　lightsome　heart；　　　Our　conscience　clear；　we　gay　depart　　　To　pebbly　brooks　and　purling　streams；　　　And　ne'er　a　care　to　vex　our　dreams。


And　how　could　the　lot　of　the　fender…fisherman　be　happier？　　No　colds；　quinsies　or　asthmas　follow　his　incursions　into　the　realms　of　fancy　where　in　cool　streams　and　peaceful　lakes　a　legion　of　chubs　and　trouts　and　sawmon　await　him；　in　fancy　he　can　hie　away　to　the　far…off　Yalrow　and　once　more　share　the　benefits　of　the　companionship　of　Kit　North；　the　Shepherd；　and　that　noble　Edinburgh　band；　in　fancy　he　can　trudge　the　banks　of　the　Blackwater　with　the　sage　of　Watergrasshill；　in　fancy　he　can　hear　the　music　of　the　Tyne　and　feel　the　wind　sweep　cool　and　fresh　o'er　Coquetdale；　in　fancy；　too；　he　knows　the　friendships　which　only　he　can　knowthe　friendships　of　the　immortals　whose　spirits　hover