THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 43 



all love one another, and therefore do I hate the otter both for 

 my own and for their sakes who are of my brotherhood. 



Venator. And I am a lover of hounds : I have followed many 

 a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard many merry huntsmen 

 make sport and scoff at anglers. 



Auccps. And I profess myself a falconer, and have heard 

 many grave, serious men pity them, it is such a heavy, contemp- 

 tible, dull, recreation. 



Piscator. You know, gentlemen, it is an easy thing to scoff 

 at any art or recreation ; a little wit mixed with ill-nature, confi- 

 dence, and malice, will do it ; but though they often venture 

 boldly, yet they are often caught, even in their own trap, 

 according to that of Lucian, the father of the family of scoffers : 



Lucian, well skill'd in scoffing-, this hath writ, 

 Friend, that 's your folly which you think your wit ; 

 This, you vent oft, void both of wit and fear, 

 Meaning another when yourself you jeer. 



If to this you add what Solomon says of scoffers, that they 

 are an abomination to mankind, let him that thinks fit scoff on, 

 and be a scoffer still ; but I account them enemies to me and to 

 all that love virtue and angling. 



And for you that have heard many grave, serious men pity 

 anglers ; let me tell you, sir, there be many men that are by 

 others taken to be serious and grave men, which we contemn 

 and pity. Men that are taken to be grave, because nature hath 

 made them of a sour complexion money-getting men, men 

 that spend all their time, first in getting, and next in anxious 

 care to keep it men that are condemned to be rich, and 

 then always busy or discontented: for these poor rich men, 

 we anglers pity them perfectly, and stand in no need to borrow 

 their thoughts to think ourselves so happy. No, no, sir ! we 

 enjoy a contentedness above the reach of such dispositions, and, 

 as the learned and ingenuous Montaigne* says, like himself, 

 freely, " When my cat and I entertain each other with mutual 

 apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who knows but that I 

 make my cat more sport than she makes me ? Shall I conclude 

 her to be simple, that has her time to begin or refuse to play 

 as freely as I myself have ? Nay, who knows but that it is a 

 defect of my not understanding her language (for doubtless cats 

 talk and reason with one another) that we agree no better? 

 and who knows but that she pities me for being no wiser than 

 to play with her, and laughs and censures my folly for making 

 sport for her, when we two play together ? " 

 . Thus freely speaks Montaigne concerning cats ; and I hope I 

 may take as great a liberty to blame any man, and laugh at him 



* In Apology for Raimond de Sebonde. 



