212 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY 
his, like Izaak’s to the angler, is the text book of the 
Archer, and not less worthy of our grateful recollection. 
To become a perfect Archer it is only necessary to read his 
Toxophilus, and practice carefully his precepts. In the 
course of that practice you will not fail to fall into some, 
if not all, of those faults so “ wittilye” described by him, 
thus: “ The discomodityes which ill custom hath graffed 
in Archers, some shooteth his head foreward, as though he 
would byte the marke; another stareth with his eyes, as 
though they should flye out; another winketh with one 
eye and looketh with the other; some maketh a face with 
wrythinge their mouth; another byteth his lips, another 
holdeth his neck awrye. In drawing, one will stand point- 
ing his shafte at the mark a good while, and by and by he 
will give him a whippe, and away or a man witte: another 
draweth softly to the middle, and by and by it is gone, you 
cannot know howe: another draweth his shafte low at the 
breast, as though he would shoot at a roving mark, and 
by and by, he lifteth his arm to the height: one maketh a 
wrynchinge in his back, as though a man pinched him be- 
hind: another coureth down, and layeth out his rumpe, as 
though he would shoot at crowes; some draw too farre, 
some too shorte, some too quicklye, some too slowlye, 
some hold over longe, some let go over soone; and after- 
wards when the shafte is gone, men have many faultes, 
which evil custome has brought them to, and speciallye in 
cryinge after the shafte, and speakinge wordes scarce 
honest for such an honest pastime, and besydes those which 
must needes have theyr tongue thus walkinge, other men 
use other faultes. Some will give two or three strides for- 
warde, daunsinge and hoppinge after his shafte, as long as 
it flyeth as though he were a madde man, some which feare 
to be too far gone, run backward, as it were to pull his 
shafte backe, another forward when he feareth to be shorte 
heavinge after his armes, as though he woulde helpe his 
shafte to flye, another wrythes, or runneth asyde, to pull 
in his shafte straighte, one lifteth up his heele, and so hold- 
eth his foote still as long as his shafte flyeth. And many 
other faultes there be, which now come not to my remem- 
brance. Thus, as you have hearde, many Archers with 
marringe theyr face and countenance, with other parts of 
theyr bodye, as it were men that should daunce antiques, 
be farre from the comely part in shootynge, which he that 
woulde be excellent must looke for. Of these faultes, I 
have very manye myselfe, but I talke not of my shoot- 
ynge. Now ymagen an Archer that is cleane without all 
these faultes, and I am sure every man would be delighted 
to see him shoote.” 
I have ran on with this quotation longer than was my 
intention, but it is too faithful a picture to be curtailed of 
any of its fair proportions. My object is to give you a 
sketch of the only association that we know of, on this side 
of the big water , for the practice of this ancient and honour- 
able pastime; the wood craft of the merry Archers, cele- 
brated alike, in the ballad and romance. 
Our association was commenced in the fall of 1828, by a 
few gentlemen, whose sole knowledge was the recollection 
of the hoop bow, and shingle arrows of boyhood, and the 
clumsy feats of the half civilized Indians, who are occa- 
sionally seen shooting for pennies on the pavements of our 
cities, with miserable tools and worse skill. Our want of 
knowledge led us into many errors, and gave us much 
trouble; we blundered on taking hints from examinations 
of the different instruments of warfare contained in the 
cabinets of our museums, and from every source that could 
furnish information. Our first practice meeting was ludic- 
rous; let me describe it, if I can. At the head of the file to 
which we were ranged, stood the long ^ with a bow about 
18 inches long, from the N. W. coast of America, and a 
Canton arrow three feet two inches long, with a whistling 
head. Next to him, and scarcely reaching to his elbow, 
was the neat, small figure of our worthy friend, the artist, 
with a seven foot Malay bow, held in a horizontal position, 
simply because he could not hold it in any other, while he 
stood on the ground. Then came the (3 with an arrow, 
long after known in the club as the broom stick , being 
made of a defunct brush handle, shaved down a little. My 
turn comes next, a real Sandwich Islander, the crack bow 
of the club at that time, which I managed most grotesquely, 
holding it at an angle of forty-five degrees to the horizon. 
The arrow was all the way from the Missouri, and now 
reposes ingloriously in the top of a button wood, where it 
went of its own accord; I give you my word that I aimed 
it at a pasteboard target, some sixty feet off, on the same 
level as ourselves. With such an equipment, and there is 
not much exaggeration in the description, it is very (remark- 
able that we should have persevered, but the zeal of the 
members, finally conquered every difficulty. You must 
not suppose, for a moment, that we continued these puerile 
proceedings, any^onger than we could help; at a very 
early period of the association, an order had been despatch- 
ed to Mr. Thomas Waring, of London, the most celebrated 
modern Bowyer, for an equipment of the best quality, and 
full information on the subject, all of which was received 
in due time; and consisted of a lemon wood bow, and spare 
strings, a dozen arrows contained in a quiver, a belt, pouch, 
grease box, and tassel, a splendid pair of targets, and finally, 
Waring’s “Treatise on Archery,” accompanied by a bill 
as long as a woodcock’s, of heavy charges, no inconside- 
rable item of which was Uncle Sam’s thirty-three and a 
third per cent, duties. These articles were received on the 
28th of March, 1829, from which time may be dated the 
