A FEW THOUGHTS ON FLY-FISHING, SUGGESTED BY THE REVIEW OF MR EDITOR, YOUR paper on angling in last Number was certainly written in a very pleasant good-humoured strain, and seemed to afford at least one example of a position maintained by its author, that anglers are an amiable, affectionI ate, open-hearted race of men. cannot, however, subscribe to the opinions of your contributor, or indeed to those of any writer whose works I have ever had an opportunity of perusing on the subject, and therefore take the liberty of addressing a few words to you, the veiled conductor of this mysterious miscellany. In the first place, although I greatly respect the gentle style of your correspondent, I can by no means admit that anglers are practically in regard to their art, a particularly amiable race of men. It is very true that on a fine balmy day, after a shower in April, any given number of anglers may converse about eddying pools and rippling streams with the greatest equanimity of spirit, while seated on Mr Mackenzie's counter, or standing by Mr Rawson's glass cases, because the images given forth are appropriated by each angler to himself, and he is immediately conveyed in imagination to the side of a fine stream, flowing through the central solitude of some bare valley, surrounded on all sides by pastoral hills, and no living thing visible but a cairn-like shepherd on the mountain side, with his old colley at his feet, and his flocks grazing around. Thus each derives pleasure from the conversation on the science, on account of its creating in his mind associations connected with the delights of his solitary hours, and while thus ministering to each other's enjoyment, they cease for a while to remember that by the water side a more disagreeable or dreaded form could not present itself than that of a brother of the Angle. It has been said that a being to endure a life of solitude must be either a god or a savage,-an angler is neither, and yet a life of solitude, while he exists, that is in the capacity of an angler, is the life of happiness for him. In truth your angler, notwithstanding the occasional existence of an Isaac Walton, is no philanthro pist. He may wish well to all who Who has not felt inclined to commit justifiable homicide, (for it could surely be brought in neither as murder nor manslaughter), when on approaching a well known piece of water, half pool half stream, with a steep. bank on one side, and a fine gravel shore on the other, a figure is perceived couched with his face to the surface, like Satan at the ear of Eve, and probing the much respected haunts with a huge emblem of Neptune, alias a Liester? When nothing's to be seen but hills With what pleasure would the bearer of the slenderer rod take him by the light fantastic toe, and toss him into the gulph profound, even as of old Hen Pen tossed the famous Tod Lowrie. Fishing, indeed, is always pursued with greatest success in solitude, and from this circumstance it is not to be wondered at that the friendly greetings of its humid votaries should not always be of the most benign and gracious kind. This is more the misfortune than the fault of the pursuit, but it certainly induces a cunning, unsocial, and even hypocritical temper of mind, which forms a curious contrast to the frank and friendly understanding which is exemplified in the shop of the dresser. Does any angler, in fishing down a river, ever approach another by whom he is offered the precedence for an hour or two? or in passing him, does he himself ever conscientiously leave an occasional fine looking pool untouched to make amends for his having taken the lead? We believe that very few examples of such virtuous, benevolent, and disinterested consideration ever occur, and by this means a spirit of disaffection, if not of positive hostility, is created, which has not unfrequently led to consequences of a very serious nature. But it has been wisely ordained that no man can run another through the body or blow out his brains with a fishing rod. It would, however, be a blessed thing if certain humane and gentlemanly regulations were fairly understood and acknowledged among all classes of Anglers such as, that no man should be allowed to pass another fishing in the same direction without the amende honourable of proceeding to a certain distance without throwing a fly, or, that they should agree to fish stream about, or should take the precedence each for his little hour alternately. I am aware that frequently, as in many districts of the Tweed, where you meet with an amphibious Wabster every two hundred yards, such systematic rules would be impracticable; but still I am not without hope that the spread of civilization will one day soften the heart of the obdurate and jealous angler, and by the introduction of some wise and generally applicable code of piscatorial laws, cause his occasional intercourse with a neighbour to assume a less gloomy and spiderlike aspect than it now bears. But fishermen are certainly illustrious over a jug of toddy, a cup of tea, or a bowl of punch. ( (They seldom have lemons at Clovenford, and never at Abington.) Among them there is then no wrangling about who struck such a fish, or who threw such a fly, or any other disputes corresponding to the question of "who killed Cock Robin," and all the other endless feuds which embitter the life of the Fowler. There is no rising after a late dinner, (better late than never), with stiffened limbs to wash out a dir ty fowling-piece, or feed still dirtier dogs-no occasional bursting of an unexpected powder-flask on the chimneypiece, or from the pocket of a moist shooting jacket, hung up to dry within six inches of the kitchen fire-no feverish dreams of the faint eye, and the low deep moan of some favourite pointer whose brown head bore so unfortunate a resemblance to a muirfowl-on the contrary, all is calm and tranquil repose. The quiet group are seated around the table, each with his sheers in his hand like the Fates of the finny race, preparing for the slaughter of the ensuing morning, and changing and shifting their bobs and their drags according to the experience which they may have that day acquired. Their hands still tremble with the long delightful and continuous vibration of the rod, when they have struck a goodly fish, or with that sullen and pulse-like tug by which a very fine one when hooked in a deep pool frequently manifests a desire to dig its way to the bottom-or their ears still ring with the music of the reel when some whimsical individual skims and flounders on the top of the water like a juvenile wild duck. I agree with your correspondent in regard to the attributes and characterestic excellencies of Maclean, Mackenzie, the two Rawsons, and the Phin. His descriptions of these celebrated men remind one of the fine pictorial and psycological delineations, by the acute and ingenious Dr Morris, of the three great advocates of Scotland. (By the way, when is the Doctor's second edition to be out?) I believe that the chief fault in fly-dressing all over the world consists in not fixing the hackle properly. This frequently gives way after fishing a few hours, and floats alongside of the hook, like a spare wing in a state of dislocation. In regard to the best kind of hooks I think it incorrect to give the preference to any particular form whatever the size may be. For the midge flies, the sneckbend is undoubtedly the best, because the small hooks of that make are free from those faults which may often be found in the larger ones. The points are finer, and more beautifully finished than those of any other form, and the barb being of a better shape, and proportionably nearer the point than in the larger hooks of the same form, they come as near to per fection as the nature of a hook is ca pable of attaining. I come now to explain myself generally on the principles of angling. And, in the first place, I assert, that there is no connexion between that art and the science of entomology; and it is this opinion which distinguishes my theory from all preceding ones, and on the truth of which my reputation must stand or fall. What I mean to say is this, that the success of the fisher does not depend upon, and is scarcely in any way connected with, the resemblance which subsists between his fly and the natural one, in imitation of which it may have been formed. This, I have no doubt, will be thought an extraordinary o pinion, being so much at variance, as well with the principles as the practice of all who have deemed fishing worthy of consideration, from the days of Isaiah and Theocritus to those of Carrol and Bainbridge. "The fisher also shall mourn, and they that cast angles into the brook shall lament," that I should have been guilty of so daring an innovation; but as I feel convinced of the truth of my opinion, no fear, either of ridicule or contempt, from the low, the jealous, the bigotted, or the ignorant, shall prevail over the duty which I owe to thousands yet unborn. I therefore again assert, that a fish seizes upon an artificial fly as upon an insect or moving thing, sui generis, and not on account of its exact resemblance to any accustomed and familiar object. If this be not admitted, I should like to know upon what principle of imitative art the different varieties of salmon flies can be supposed to bear the slightest resemblance to any species of dragon fly, to imitate which I have been told they are intended. There certainly is not the slightest perceptible similarity between them, all the species of the dragon fly being distinguished by clear, lace-like, pellucid wings; whereas those of the salmon fly are almost always formed of plumage composed of the brightest and most gaudy colours. Besides, the finest salmon fishing is in mild weather, at the conclusion of winter, and in early spring, several months before any dragon fly could possibly have rendered itself visible on the face of the waters, as it is a summer insect, and rarely makes its appearance in the perfect state till the month of June. If they bear no resemblance to each other in form or colour, how much more unlike must they be, when, instead of being swept down the current as a real one would be, the artificial fly is seen crossing and recrossing every stream and torrent with the agility of an otter, and the strength of an alligator? Could any dragon fly make its way in a straight or even curvilinear direction across a broad and rapid river, or maintain itself with "ane short uneasy motion" in the centre of a rushing stream? I think not. Now, as it appears that the artificial fly generally used for salmon bears no resemblance, except in size, to any living one,that the only tribe, which, from their respective dimensions, it may be supposed to represent, does not exist during the period when the imitation is most generally and most successfully practised, and if they did, that their habits and natural powers disenable them from being at any time seen under such circumstances, as would give a colour to the supposition of the one being ever mistaken for the other,-I think we may fairly conclude, that in this instance at least, the fish proceed upon other grounds, and are deceived by an appearance of life and motion, not by a specific resemblance to any thing which at any former period of their lives they had been in the habit of masticating. What natural insect do the large flies, at which sea trout rise so readily, resemble? or what species are imitated by the palmer, or indeed by three-fourths of the dressed flies in common use? The same observations, I believe, apply, with equally few exceptions, to bait-fishing. The minnow is fastened upon swivels, which cause it to revolve upon its axis with such rapidity, that it loses every vestige of its original appearance; and in angling with the par-tail, the most killing of all lures for large trout, the bait consists of the nether half of a small fish mangled and misshapen, and in every point of view divested of its pristine form. The whole system of representation is one of quackery, deceit, and folly, and the more speedily a reform takes place the better. Fly-fishing is like sculpture. It proceeds upon a few grand and simple principles, and the theory is easily acquired, although it may require long and severe labour to become a great master in the art. Yet it is needless to encompass it with difficulties which have no existence in reality, or to render that intricate and confused which is in itself so plain and unencumbered. In fact, the ideas which at present prevail on the subject, degrade it be neath its real dignity and importance, and reduce it to a merely imitative art. But it is not so. When Plato, speaking of painting, says, that it is merely an art of imitation, and that our pleasure proceeds from perceiving the truth and accuracy of the likeness, he is surely wrong; for if it were so, where would be the superiority of the Roman and Bolognese over the Dutch and Flemish schools? It is indeed the lowest and least intellectual style of art, whether in painting, poetry, or fly-fishing, which proceeds upon individual imitation. The enlightened angler does not condescend to imitate specifically the detail of things-he attends only to the invariable, the great, and general ideas which are inherent in nature. He throws his fly lightly and with elegance on the surface of the glittering waters, because he knows that an insect, with outspread wing, would so fall; but he does not imitate, either in the air or on his favourite element, the flight or the motion of a particular species, because he knows that trouts are much less conversant in entomology than Dr Leach, and that their omniverous propensions induce them, when inclined for food, to rise with equal eagerness at every minute thing which creepeth upon the earth, or swimmeth in the waters. On this fact he generalizes—and this is the philosophy of fishing. I therefore think, that all that has been said about the great variety of flies which are necessary to the angler -about the necessity of changing his tackle according to each particular month throughout the season-about one fly being adapted solely to the morning, another to noon-day, and a third to the evening-about every river having its own particular flies, and about fish refusing to look at a certain fly on one day (yet readily taking a different one that same day), and rising greedily to it on another, is, with scarcely any exception, little. less than " mere blarney.' That determinate relations subsist between flies of a certain colour, and particular states of a river, is, I believe, true; but these are connected with angling solely as an artificial science, and have no connexion whatever with any analagous relations in nature. The great object, by whatever means it is to be accomplished, is to render the fly deceptive; and this, in fact, I believe to be more easily done when fishing with flies which differ in colour and general appearance from those which are upon the water. When a particular fly prevails upon a river, an artificial one in imitation of it will never resemble it so closely, as to appear the same to those below (i. e. the trouts); on the contrary, a certain degree of resemblance, without any thing like an exact similitude, will only render the finny tribe the more cautious through suspicion, while a different shape and colour, by exciting no minute and invidious comparisons, would probably have been swallowed without examination. Indeed it seems very plain, that where means of comparison are allowed, and where exact imitation is at the same time impossible, it is much better to have recourse to a general idea, than to an awkward and bungling individual representation. How often has it been asserted, with all the gravity of sententious wisdom, that the true mode of proceeding in fly-fishing is to busk your hook by the river-side, after beating the shrubs, to see what colour of insect prevails. This is absolute nonsense" a fly in the book is worth two in the bush." A friend of mine, who carried the opposite theory perhaps too far, although he always filled his pannier, used to beat the briars and willows to ascertain what manner of fly was not there, and with that he tempted the fishes. I believe, that during midsummer, when the weather is calm, the sky clear, and the river low, and when what is called fine fishing is necessary, a close imitation, both of the appearance and motions of the natural fly may frequently be tried with advantage; in which case the tackle may be allowed to drop gently down the stream; but it more usually happens, from the style of fishing practised during the vernal and autumnal states of a river, that the hook is not deceptive, from its appearing like a winged fly which has fallen from its native element, but from its motion and as pect resembling that of some aquatic insect. When the end of the line first falls on the surface of the water, the fish may be deceived by the idea of a natural fly, and it is on that account that the angler should throw his tackle lightly and with accuracy, and it is on that account also that I advise the more frequent throwing of the line; but so soon as the artist begins to describe his semicircle across the river, the character of the lure is changed, and the trout then seizes the bait not as a drowning insect, but as a creature inhabiting its own element, which had ventured too far from the protection of the shallow shore, or the sedgy bank. That this is the case, a subsidiary argument may also be drawn from the fact, that in most rivers the greater number and the finest fish are generally slain by the dragfly, which, during the process of angling, swims an inch or two under wa ter. The great secret in fly-fishing, after a person has acquired the art of throwing a long and a light line, is perseverance, that is, constant and continuous exertion. Your trout is a whimsical creature, even when the angler, with all appliances and means to boot, is placed apparently under the most favourable circumstances. Let him, however, commence his operations with flies which, upon general principles, he knows to be good-for example, a water-mouse body, and dark wing, hare ear, and muirfowl wing, red hackle and teal or mallard wing. It may frequently happen, that for an hour or even two hours he will kill nothing but then it will as often happen, that for another couple of hours he will pull them out with a most pleasing rapidity. "I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness," yet I believe that the appetites and motions of the finny tribe are regulated and directed by certain (to us) almost imperceptible changes in the state of the atmosphere, with which, as they do not proceed upon any fixed or determined principles of meteorological science, it is not easy for the angler to become acquainted, and, therefore, the only method to remedy the désagrément thus arising, is to fish without ceasing as long as he remains by the "pure element of waters." The art of angling will probably one day or other be the means of throwing considerable light on the science of electricity, at present one of the most obscure branches of physical learning. I believe that a variable state of the atmosphere is bad for fishing-nor do I think as many do, that a dull gloomy day is the most favourable. If the river is not too low, I always prefer what, in ordinary language, might be called a fine cheerful day, more particularly if there is a fresh breeze. And what I would more particularly press upon the notice of the angler, as soon as he becomes master of the line, is, that he should cast his flies more frequently than is the usual practice, and, generally speaking, fish rapidly. should be more especially attended to in streams where the trout are numerous, and not large. This No general rules can be laid down in regard to striking and playing the fish, as excellence in this department of the art is solely the result of experience, and can only be attained by practice. I am no great advocate, however, for what is called striking a fish. If a large trout rises in a deep pool, it may be of advantage so to do, and this will be sufficiently accomplished by inclining the rod quickly aside, so as to draw out a few inches of the line, for if the reel is not allowed to run, this operation is apt to snap the gut, or otherwise injure the tackle.But if a trout, whether great or small, rises in a current or rapid stream, the sudden change in its position, immediately after it has seized the fly, is generally quite sufficient to fix the barb, without any exertion on the part of the angler. I shall not at present occupy any longer your attention, but at some future period I may probably communicate some observations on the present state of the fly-fisheries in different parts of Scotland with which I happen to be acquainted, and which, I doubt not, will be found useful to many of your readers. I shall be happy to hear from any of your contributors or acquaintances who feel inclined to impugn my theory, and shall willingly enter into a correspondence, either public or private, on that or any other subject connected with the art. I was highly pleased with your introductory paper in last Number, not so much on |