To my most worthy Father and Friend, MR. Izaak WALTON, the Elder. SIR, you were pleased, some years past, to grant me your free leave to do what I have here attempted; and observing you never retract any promise, when made in favour even of your meanest friends, I accordingly expect to see these following particular directions for the taking of a Trout,to wait upon your better and more general rules for all sorts of Angling: and, though mine be neither so perfect, so well digested, nor indeed so handsomely couched, as they might have been, in so long a time as since your leave was granted; yet I dare affirm them to be generally true: and they had appeared too in something a neater dress, but that I was surprised with the sudden news of a sudden new edition of your Complete Angler; so that, having but a little more than ten days' time to turn me in, and rub up my memory, for, in truth, I have not, in all this long time, though I have often thought on't, and almost as often resolved to go presently about it, I was forced upon the instant to scribble what I here present you: which I have also endeavoured to accommodate to your own method. And, if mine be clear enough for the honest Brothers of the Angle readily to understand, which is the only thing I aim at, then I have my end, and shall need to make no further apology; a writing of this kind not requiring, if I were master of any such thing, any eloquence to set it off, or recommend it: so that if you, in your better judgment, or kindness rather, can allow it passable, for a thing of this nature, you will then do me honour, if the Cypher, fixed and carved in the front of my little fishing-house, may be here explained: and to permit me to attend you in public, who, in private, have ever been, am, and ever resolve to be, Sir, Your most affectionate Son and Servant, Beresford, 10th of March, 167. Charles Cotton ./ To my most honoured Friend, CHARLES COTTON, Esq. SIR, You now see I have returned you your very pleasant and useful discourse of the Art of Fly-fishing, printed just as it was sent me : for I have been so obedient to your desires, as to endure all the praises you have ventured to fix upon me in it. And, when I have thanked you for them, as the effects of an undissembled love; then, let me tell you, Sir, that I will really endeavour to live up to the character you have given of me; if there were no other reason, yet, for this alone, that you, that love me so well, and always think what you speak, may not, for my sake, suffer by a mistake in your judgement. And, Sir, I have ventured to fill a part of your margin, by way of paraphrase, for the reader's clearer understanding the situation, both of your Fishing-house, and the pleasantness of that you dwell in. And I have ventured also to give him a copy of verses that you were pleased to send me, now some years past; in which he may see a good picture of both; and so much of your own mind too, as will make any reader, that is blest with a generous soul, to love you the better. I confess, that for doing this you may justly judge me too bold: if you do, I will say so too; and so far commute for my offence, that, though I be more than a hundred miles from you, and in the eighty-third year of my age, yet I will forget both, and next month begin a pilgrimage to beg your pardon; for I would die in your favour; and till then will live, Sir, London, April 29th, 1676. Your most affectionate Father and Friend, Frank Walton With this enlarged edition also, appeared, for the first time, the following beautiful verses, exhibiting, probably, a more favourable specimen of Cotton's poetical powers, than his whole works could supply. THE RETIREMENT IRREGULAR STANZAS ADDRESSED TO MR. IZAAK WALTON FAR I AREWELL thou busy world! and may Here I can eat, and sleep, and pray, And do more good in one short day, Than he, who his whole age out wears Upon the most conspicuous theatres, Where nought but vanity and vice appears. IV Dear Solitude, the soul's best friend, That man acquainted with himself dost make, And, all his Maker's wonders to entend, With thee I here converse at will, And would be glad to do so still, For, it is thou alone, that keep'st the soul awake. V How calm, and quiet a delight, Is it, alone To read, and meditate, and write; By none offended, and offending none? To walk, ride, sit, or sleep at one's own ease! And, pleasing a man's self, none other to displease. VI Oh, my beloved Nymph! fair Dove! Princess of Rivers! how I love Upon thy flowery banks to lie, And view thy silver stream, When gilded by a Summer's beam! And in it, all thy wanton fry, Playing at liberty: And, with my Angle upon them, The all of treachery I ever learn'd industriously to try. VII Such streams, Rome's yellow Tiber cannot show, The Iberian Tagus, or Ligurian Po; The Maese, the Danube, and the Rhine, Are puddle-water all, compared with thine: And Loire's pure streams yet too polluted are With thine much purer to compare; The rapid Garonne, and the winding Seine, Are both too mean, Beloved Dove, with thee To vie priority; Nay, Thame and Isis when conjoin'd, submit, And lay their trophies at thy silver feet. VIII Oh my beloved rocks! that rise To awe the earth and brave the skies: Giddy with pleasure, to look down, And from the vales, to view the noble heights above! Oh, my beloved caves! from Dog-star's heat, And all anxieties, my safe retreat; What safety, privacy, what true delight, In th' artificial night, Your gloomy entrails make, Have I taken, do I take ! How oft when grief has made me fly To hide me from society, Ev'n of my dearest friends, have I In your recesses friendly shade, All my sorrows open laid, And, my most secret woes, entrusted to your privacy! IX Lord! would men let me alone; What an over-happy one Should I think myself to be, Might I, in this desert place, Which most men in discourse disgrace, Live but undisturb'd and free! |
