PISCATOR. NO; I pray, Sir, save me one, and I'll try if I can make her tame, as I know an ingenious gentleman in Leicestershire, Mr. Nich. Segrave has done; who hath not only made her tame, but to catch fish, and do many other things of much pleasure.

HUNTSMAN. Take one, with all my heart; but let us kill the rest. And now let's go to an honest ale-house, where we may have a cup of good barley wine, and sing "Old ROSE," and all of us rejoice together.

VENATOR. Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite you 10 along with us. I'll bear your charges this night, and you shall bear mine to-morrow; for my intention is to accompany you a day or two in fishing.

VENATOR. Well, now let's go to your sport of Angling.

PISCATOR. Let's be going with all my heart. God keep you all, Gentlemen; and send you meet this day with another Bitch-otter, and kill her merrily, and all her young ones too.

VENATOR. NOW, Piscator, where will you begin to fish?

PISCATOR. We are not yet come to a likely place; I must 20 walk a mile further yet before I begin.

VENATOR. Well then, I pray, as we walk, tell me freely how do you like your lodging, and mine host, and the company? Is not mine host a witty man?

PISCATOR. Sir, I will tell you presently, what I think of your host; but first I will tell you, I am glad these Otters were killed; and I am sorry there are no more Otter-killers; for I know that the want of Otter-killers, and the not keeping the fence-months for the preservation of fish, will in time, prove the destruction of all rivers. And those very 30 few that are left, that make conscience of the laws of the nation and of keeping days of abstinence, will be forced to eat flesh, or suffer more inconveniences than are yet foreseen. VENATOR. Why, Sir, what be those that you call the fence-months?

PISCATOR. Sir, they be principally three, namely, March, April, and May: for these be the usual months that Salmon come out of the sea to spawn in most fresh rivers. And their fry would, about a certain time, return back to the salt-water, if they were not hindered by weirs and unlawful gins, which the greedy fishermen set, and so destroy them by thousands; as they would, being so taught by nature, change the fresh for salt water.

And now to your question concerning your host. To 10 speak truly, he is not to me a good companion, for most of his conceits were either scripture jests, or lascivious jests: for which I count no man witty; for the devil will help a man that way inclined, to the first; and his own corrupt nature, which he always carries with him, to the latter. But a companion that feasts the company with wit and mirth, and leaves out the sin which is usually mixed with them, he is the man; and indeed such a companion should have his charges borne and to such company I hope to bring you this night; for at Trout-hall, not far from this place, where 20 I purpose to lodge to-night, there is usually an Angler that proves good company. And let me tell you, good company and good discourse are the very sinews of virtue. I'll to my own art, and I doubt not but at yonder tree I shall catch a Chub; and then we'll turn to an honest cleanly hostess, that I know right well; rest ourselves there; and dress it for our dinner.

VENATOR. Oh sir, a Chub is the worst fish that swims; I hoped for a Trout to my dinner.

PISCATOR. Trust me, Sir, there is not a likely place for a 30 Trout hereabout; and we staid so long to take leave of your huntsman this morning, that the sun is got so high and shines so clear, that I will not undertake the catching of a Trout till evening. And though a Chub be, by you and many others, reckoned the worst of fish, yet you shall see I'll make a good fish of it by dressing it.

VENATOR. Why, how will you dress him?

PISCATOR. I'll tell you by-and-by, when I have caught him. Look you here, Sir, do you see? but you must stand very close, there lie upon the top of the water, in this very hole, twenty Chubs. I'll catch only one, and that shall be the biggest of them all; and that I will do so, I'll hold you twenty to one, and you shall see it done.

VENATOR. Ay, marry, Sir, now you talk like an artist; and I'll say you are one, when I shall see you perform what you say you can do; but I yet doubt it.

PISCATOR. You shall not doubt it long: for you shall see 10 me do it presently. Look, the biggest of these Chubs has had some bruise upon his tail by a Pike, or some other accident; and that looks like a white spot. That very Chub I mean to put into your hands presently; sit you but down in the shade, and stay but a little; and I warrant you, I'll bring him to you.

VENATOR. I'll sit down; and hope well, because you seem to be so confident.

PISCATOR. Look you, Sir, there is a trial of my skill; there he is; that very Chub, that I showed you, with the 20 white spot on his tail. And I'll be as certain to make him a good dish of meat as I was to catch him : I'll now lead you to an honest ale-house, where we shall find a cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck about the wall. There my hostess, which I may tell you is both cleanly and handsome, and civil, hath dressed many a one for me; and shall now dress it after my fashion, and I. warrant it good meat.

VENATOR. Come, Sir, with all my heart, for I begin to be hungry, and long to be at it, and indeed to rest myself too; 30 for though I have walked but four miles this morning, yet I begin to be weary; yesterday's hunting hangs still upon me.

PISCATOR. Well, Sir, and you shall quickly be at rest, for yonder is the house I mean to bring you to.

Come, hostess, how do you do? Will you first give us a

cup of your best drink, and then dress this Chub, as you dressed my last, when I and my friend were here about eight or ten days ago? But you must do me one courtesy, it must be done instantly.

HOSTESS. I will do it, Mr. Piscator, and with all the speed I can.

PISCATOR. Now, Sir, has not my hostess made haste? And does not the fish look lovely?

Venator. Both upon my word, Sir; and therefore let's 10 say grace and fall to eating of it.

PISCATOR. Well, Sir, how do you like it?

VENATOR. Trust me, 'tis as good meat as I ever tasted. Now let me thank you for it, drink to you, and beg a courtesy of you; but it must not be denied me.

PISCATOR. What is it, I pray, Sir? You are so modest, that methinks I may promise to grant it before it is asked. VENATOR. Why, Sir, it is that from henceforth you would allow me to call you Master, and that really I may be your scholar; for you are such a companion, and have so quickly 20 caught and so excellently cooked this fish, as makes me ambitious to be your scholar.

PISCATOR. Give me your hand; from this time forward I will be your Master and teach you as much of this art as I am able; and will, as you desire me, tell you somewhat of the nature of most of the fish that we are to angle for; and I am sure I both can and will tell you more than any common angler yet knows.

SIR THOMAS BROWNE (1605-1682).

I.

BIOGRAPHICAL.

BROWNE was born in London in 1605, and educated at Winchester School and Pembroke College (then Broadgate Hall), Oxford. 30 He studied medicine at Montpellier in France, Padua in

Italy, and Leyden in Holland, all at that time well-known medical schools. In 1634 he went to live in Yorkshire, and there wrote the Religio Medici,1 his most important work. He removed to Norwich in 1637, and that city became his permanent home. There he practised medicine, and married a wife, Dorothy Mileham, “a lady of such a symmetrical proportion to her worthy husband that they seemed to come together by a kind of natural magnetism." He was a staunch royalist, and was knighted by Charles II. in 1671. He died at Norwich in 1682.

II. CRITICAL.

Two editions of the Religio Medici were published without 10 Browne's sanction in 1642. The first authorised edition appeared in 1643. The book was not intended for publication, or at least for immediate publication. It may be characterised as "a sort of private diary of the soul." It is not easy to extract from it what was Browne's exact attitude to the faith of his time. It was probably something of a compromise-a keeping distinct the teachings of science and the teachings of religion.

Hydriotaphia, or Urn Burial, from which an extract is given, was published in 1658 together with The Garden of Cyrus, which has been well described as 66 a somewhat fantastic treatise 20 on the metaphysics of horticulture." The Urn Burial is a learned description of the modes of burial followed by various nations, suggested by the discovery of some Roman urns at Norwich. It contains some of the most musical, eloquent and magnificent prose to be found in English literature.

So many great critics have written on Browne that it is almost unnecessary, and even a little impertinent, to add anything to what they have said. In England Dr. Johnson, whose prose style owes much to that of Browne, Coleridge, Lamb, whose style is also coloured by Browne's quaintness and humour, 30 and Pater have all expressed their admiration of his work, while in America Ticknor, Fields, Holmes and Lowell eagerly studied him, and the last speaks of Browne as our most imaginative mind since Shakespeare." But perhaps the most felicitous

1 The religion of a physician.