Compendious History of the Goths, Svvedes, and Vandals, and other Northern Nations. Written by Olaus Magnus, Arch-Bishop of Upsall, and Metropolitan of Svveden." Lond. 1658, folio. This was a translation from the Latin by J. S., and the particulars mentioned in the text occur on page 47, in book iii. chap. xv. “Of the Conjurors and Witches in Finland. Also, I shall shew very briefly what force conjurors and witches have in constraining the elements, enchanted by them or others, that they may exceed or fall short of their naturall order: premising this, that the extream land of the North Finland and Lapland, was so taught by witchcraft formerly in heathenish times, as if they had learned this cursed art from Zoroastres the Persian; though other inhabitants by the sea-coasts are reported to be bewitched with the same madness; for they exercise this divellish art, of all arts of the world, to admiration; and in this, and other suchlike mischief, they commonly agree. The Finlanders were wont formerly, amongst their other errors of Gentilisme, to sell winds to merchants, that were stopt on their coast by contrary weather; and when they had their price, they knit three magical knots, not like to the laws of Cassius, bound up with a thong, and they gave them to the merchants; observing that rule, that when they unloosed the first, they should have a good gale of wind; when the second, a stronger wind; but when they untied the third, they should have such cruel tempests, that they should not be able to look out of the forecastle to avoid the rocks, nor move a foot to pull down the sails, nor stand at the helm to govern the ship; and they made an unhappy truth of it, who denied that there was any such power in those knots." "Olaus Magnus, the author of the above, was brother and successor to John, Archbishop of Upsal; and, like him, he suffered much from his attachment to the Roman Catholic religion when Gustavus Erickson introduced Protestantism into Sweden. He distinguished himself at the Council of Trent, and he died at Rome in 1555." P. 117. In Evelyn's Memoirs (ii. So, ed. 1827), under 22d July 1654, it is said, "We departed and dined at a farme of my uncle Hungerford's, called Darneford Magna, situate in a valley under the plaine, most sweetly watered, abounding in trouts catch'd by speare in the night, when they come attracted by a light set in the sterne of a boat.' Pepys, in his Diary, March 18, 1667, says, "This day Mr Cæsar told me a pretty experiment of his, of angling with a minikin, a guttstring varnished over, which keeps it from swelling, and is beyond any hair for strength and smallness. The secret I like mightily.”—Vol. iii. p. 171, ed. 1828. P. 128. The conjecture in the note to this page that "R. R." may have been the R. Roe mentioned in the preface to Walton's Angler, is rendered improbable by the fact that in the first edition of the "Secrets of Angling” the initials are "R. B." Since the Memoir of Walton was written, wherein it is said (p. Ixvii.) that nothing had been discovered respecting his friends Nat. and R. Roe, the following entries have been found in the register of St Dunstan's in the West : 1622. August 12. 1624. August 5. John, the sonne of Edward Roe, buried. Susanna and Elizabeth, daughters of Edward Roe and Barbara his wife, christened. 1636. January 3. Mary, daughter of Nathaniel Roe, was buried. 1652. March 22. the Friers. 1653. Nov. 17. 1654. May 26. the Friars. Alexander Roe, infant, buryed, churchyard; out of Barbara, wife of Edward Roe, buryed. Edward Roe was buryed, churchyard; coffined, out of P. 163. It was then usual to exhibit curiosities of any kind at coffeehouses, and the custom is alluded to in the Spectator. P. 166. By an error of the press, the note which refers to the Guiniad is made to apply to the Barbel. P. 177. Cowper has beautifully expressed the same idea in the following lines: He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps compared But who, with filial confidence inspired, Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say, "My Father made them all!" And by an emphasis of interest his, Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind THE TASK. Book V. P. 179. It was intended to insert a poem, preserved in a MS. in the Library of the Royal Society, which is attributed to Walton, and is supposed to be unpublished, entitled "On a Lady fishing with an Angle," commencing "See where the fair Clorinda sits, and seeing." On applying to the librarian of the Royal Society, with a letter from one of the Fellows, it appeared, however, that an extract was not allowed to be made from any manuscript belonging to that learned body, without a special order of the Council. As the Council would not meet for some weeks, it was not thought worth while to delay the publication of this work until all the necessary forms could be observed. Any remarks on the absurdity of a regulation which tends to render the library of a society, incorporated for the advancement of knowledge, comparatively useless, even to its own Fellows, must be unnecessary; but the hope may be expressed that it will not much longer be allowed to cast discredit on a body which claims the first place among the learned associations of Europe. It would seem from the following verses, which were written by the witty Lord Rochester, that King Charles the Second was an angler. They are printed in a collection of Poems on Affairs of State, 8vo, 1703, vol. i. Continuation, p. 43: WINDSOR BY THE LORD RR. Pleas'd with the sport, good man, nor does he know, Whose sceptre's dwindled to a fishing-rod. When his great Godship stoop'd to catching flies; But greedily he swallows every bait, A prey to every King-fisher of state; For how he Gudgeons takes, you have been taught; So well, alas! the fatal bait is known, Which Rdoes so greedily take down; And, howe'er weak and slender be the string, P. 197. Dr Wharton. The portrait of this learned physician has been recently engraved for the first time, and published by Mr Major. P. 237. Cotton again notices his favourite river Dove in the "Wonders of the Peake:" Perpetual winter, endless solitude, Or the society of men so rude, That it is ten times worse. Thy murmurs Or humour of Lovers; or Men fall in love Wound like a Parthian, whilst the shooter Of all fair Thetis' Daughters none so bright, As only with a swift and transient Touch, EXTRACTS FROM SHAKESPEARE, QUARLES, BUNYAN, POPE, GAY, AND THOMSON, IN ANGLING. SHAKESPEARE. REFERENCE TO Give me mine angle,-We'll to the river, there, Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait.-Much Ado, act iii. sc. 1. If the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason, in the law of nature, but I may snap at him.-Henry IV. Pt. II. act iii. sc. 2. Bait the hook well and the fish will bite.-Much Ado, act ii. sc. 3 * The river Dove. When genial Spring a living warmth bestows, And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws, No swelling inundation hides the grounds, But crystal currents glide within their bounds; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, Float in the sun, and skim along the lake; With frequent leap they range the shallow streams, Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams: Troubling the streams with swift-descending rain, And waters tumbling down the mountain's side, Bear the loose soil into the swelling tide, He sits him down, and ties the treach'rous hook; Now expectation cheers his eager thought, His bosom glows with treasures yet uncaught; Before his eyes a banquet seems to stand, Where every guest applauds his skilful hand. Far up the stream the twisted hair he throws, Which down the murm'ring current gently flows; When if or chance or hunger's pow'rful sway Directs the roving trout this fatal way, Cast on the bank, he dies with gasping pains, And trickling blood his silver mail distains. You must not every worm promiscuous use; Judgment will tell thee proper bait to choose; The worm that draws a long immod'rate size The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies; And if too small, the naked fraud's in sight, And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains, Whose polish'd tails a shining yellow stains: Cleanse them from filth, to give a tempting gloss, Cherish the sullied reptile race with moss; Amid the verdant bed, they twine, they toil, And from their bodies wipe their native soil. But when the sun displays his glorious And shallow rivers flow with silver streams, The shining bellies of the fly require; 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, Dazzies our eyes, and easy hearts betrays. Ma k well the various seasons of the year, How the succeeding insect race appear; In this revolving moon one colour reigns, Which in the next the fickle trout disdains. Oft have I seen a skilful angler try The various colours of the treach'rous fly: When he with fruitless pain hath skimm'd the brook, And the coy fish rejects the skipping hook, He shakes the boughs that on the margin glow, Which o'er the stream a waving forest throw, The scaly shoals float by, and, seized with fear, Behold their fellows tost in thinner air: Plunge on the hook, and share an equal fate. Then downright plunges with the fraudful prey, And bears with joy the little spoil away: The trembling fins the boiling wave divide: Each motion humours with his steady hands. And one slight hair the mighty bulk commands; Till tired at last, despoil'd of all his strength, The game athwart the stream unfolds hs length. He now, with pleasure, views the gasping prize Gnash his sharp teeth, and roll his blood-shot eyes; Then draws him to the shore, with artful care, And lifts his nostrils in the sick'ning air: Upon the burthen'd stream he floating lies, Stretches his quivering fins, and gasping dies. Would you preserve a num'rous finny race? Let your fierce dogs the rav'nous otter chase: Th' amphibious monster ranges all the shores. Darts through the waves, and ev'ry haunt exOr let the gin his roving steps betray, [plores: And save from hostile jaws the scaly prey. I never wander where the bora'ring reeds O'erlook the muddy stream, whose tanging weeds Perplex the fisher; I nor choose to bear |