reverence. Beyond all other recreations it is the most idyllic, if one but select the trout for a guide. He is the certain index, the infallible cicerone to lovely scenery. With every bend and reach of his fluvial highway he opens fresh vistas of beauty, himself as pure and undefiled as the element wherein he roves. All the surroundings of the trout-stream invite to a restful frame of mind, the minstrelsy of birds, the cool rush of the rapid, the wild flora, the myriad insect life that hovers above the current, the peace of great woods through which the streamlet flows, its soothing voice and dreamy, somnolent song. To the sport, moreover, is invariably added the component of uncertainty which imparts an increased zest to any pleasure. Fish are proverbially fickle creatures of the moment and the hour.

"For there are times in which they will not bite, But do forbear, and from their food refrain ; And days there are wherein they more delight To labour for the same, and bite amain." There is always the mystery that lingers beneath the wave, the swift, bounding life one may not see and oft may not cajole, but which is ever present within the dusky depths. So much depends upon

the humour of the quarry, the time of day, the fitful breeze, and the passing cloud. The fly taken with such avidity yesterday may be useless to-day. The trout may rise, but refrain from fastening. The "bright fox" may be on, the east wind may blow, or thunder may be lurking in the air. One may arrive too late for the breakfast-hour, or too early for luncheon-time. Or having dined to repletion, the fish may refuse to be tempted until evening. Yet if one might win success with every cast, fishing must soon lose its charms, c'est être malheureux que d'être heureux toujours. the other hand, there is ever the possibility of the glittering reward; the mirage of the unexpected, through which, to him. who waits, peradventure the coveted prize. may come. If to-day be unpropitious, the morrow may hold a triumph in store. Or even now, the gathering clouds and rising breeze may provoke a change from frowns to smiles.

On

And if he who woos the capricious tenants be prone to moralizing, he may perceive in the steady lapse of the waters whose tide is never stayed, the swift, inexorable flight of time, and discern, in the floating bubbles which the surface bears, the transitoriness

of pleasure and the frailty of earthly hopes. But it is not always that occasion offers for moralizing on the angler's part. With the surface dimpled by the rising prey, there is little chance for attention to other than the all-engrossing subject at hand. And while one may view with aesthetic delight the play of shadow and sunlight upon the liquid floor, and follow the varying flow of the stream as it glides noiselessly past, or idles in some murmurous cove ere voicing its plaint to the shallows, it is with the trout, after all, that one is mostly concerned, and upon which one's constant attention must be centred. Then, when the monarch leaps to the lure, and the exhilaration of the capture comes, " doubt not but that angling will be so pleasant that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to itself."

Even pleasanter than following its banks is to enter the stream, when its nature will allow, and become a part with the ripple, the swirl of the eddy, and froth of the pool, to be propelled by the current, and be embraced by its fond caress. But where the flux is of considerable volume, this means fishing down, and conflicts with the prevailing theory held by the modern English crafts

men that one must angle up, to meet with the best success. Such is the practice of the "dry-fly" fisherman, with Halford as its most gifted exponent, who obtains the heaviest baskets and invariably the largest trout. His accomplishment is by far the more difficult, and, necessitating greater fatigue, is consequently accompanied with less pleasure during the hours of actual labour. But for weight and numbers, the dry-fly fisherman who stalks the clear. English chalk-streams stands first among his brotherhood. And it is only necessary to watch the precision of his casts, his careful judgment, and the results of his handiwork, to recognise how much piscatory. skill has advanced since the patriarch pronounced angling an art worthy the knowledge and practice of a wise and a serious

man.

Still, however intent one may be upon the capture of the quarry, one may scarcely help but absorb and be influenced by the manifold attractions of Nature attendant upon the exercise of fly-fishing. Entering into intimate relationship with it is the study of entomology, and likewise of botany and ornithology. If the angler be of an observant temperament, the flora naturally arrests his

attention during his rambles; the birds address their songs to him; and to be proficient in this the highest attainment of the art, he must necessarily be familiar with the insect tribes which congregate at the water-side, and whose counterfeits constitute his wiles. Yet, though so many forms of aquatic insects exist, nearly one half of insect-life breathing, feeding, and disporting in the water, it is only those species that on emerging from their native element rise from the water, and those that, returning to it to perpetuate their evanescent race, hover over the current, which may be imitated with success by him who wields the wand. But the art of hooking the fish, the delicate cast and nicety of touch, come only by long experience, or more generally are born and not to be had for the mere acquiring, like the unerring aim of the sportsman, or the artist's eye for form and colour. This fact was duly recognised by Walton, who would not undertake to make a man that was none to be an angler by a book.

The predecessor of all other sports, a brief reference to the development of angling, and to its literature previous to Walton's time, will serve to set forth his