THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART i. 



magnificent palaces which we adore and wonder at ; from 

 which height I can make her to descend by a word from my 

 mouth (which she both knows and obeys), to accept of meat 

 from my hand, to own me for her master, to go home with me, 

 and be willing the next day to afford me the like recreation. 



And more : thi^element of air which I profess to trade in, 

 the worth of it is snrh., nnrTii- i'g nf c^rh nf^QQJty, that no 

 creature whatsoever, not only those numerous creatures that 

 feed on the face of the earth, but those various creatures that 

 have their dwelling within the waters, every creature that hath 

 life in its mxstrils. stands in need of mv_lement. The waters 

 cannot preserve the fish without air, witnessThe not breaking of 

 ice in an extreme frost : the reason is, for that if the inspiring 

 and expiring organ of an animal be stopped, it suddenly yields 

 to nature, and dies. Thus necessary is air to the existence both 

 of fish and beasts, nay, even to man himself; the air or breath 

 of life with which God at first inspired mankind, he, if he wants 

 it, dies presently, becomes a sad object to all that loved and 

 beheld him, and in an instant turns to putrefaction. 



Nay more, the very birds of the air, those that be not hawks, 

 are both so many and so useful and pleasant to mankind, that 

 I must not let them pass without some observations. They 

 both feed and refresh him feed him with their choice bodies, 

 and refresh him with their heavenly voices. I will not undertake 

 to mention the several kinds of fowl by which this is done and 

 his curious palate pleased by day, and which with their very 

 excrements afford him a soft lodging at night these I will pass 

 by ; but not those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble 

 forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished 

 them to the shame of art. 



As, first, the lark, when she means to rejoice, to cheer herself 

 and those that hear her; she then quits the earth, and sings as 

 she ascends higher into the air, and having ended her heavenly 

 employment, grows then mute and sad, to think she must 

 descend to the dull earth, which she would not touch, but for 

 necessity. 



How do the blackbird and thrassel, with their melodious 



