The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1854-08-12
TIE MORALS OF FISHING.

n1cr this head Rev. Henry Ward Beech
or defends or apoloyi>cS for the use of the rod
IN reply to qucrvinr note of friend III,
article on tie whole. is rather piece of src-
cial pleading - the argument being. in fact
that he does not fish much. and that scck;no
the trout is an excuse for scckinc sometime
better Hu, the extracts we rive are hcauti-
ful. irrespective of their conncrticn.- rHu,rL
Hgi<t,r.
Nothing is more clearly received as com
mon law among gentlemen. than that the
suffering OF the victim is not to he allowed 70
give pleasure. II is to be alrilccd in cvcrv
way. And prolonged suffering. or needles.
suffering, is fundamental violation of noo.,
rules
The true source ofcniovmcni in fcl,l-sror.>
is to he found in the cxc,iion of ones own
faculties. and especially in such carriaco Of
ones self as to he superior in Sacacitv and
caution to the most wary and sharp sighted
OF creatures. 1t Is a contest between jnst;uct
and reason. And reason has, often, lirtlc 10
be proud Of in the result.
But, aside from the pleasure which arises
in connection with seeking or takinr onc's
prey, we suspect that the collateral cniov-
mcntS amount, often, to greater sum than all
the rest. The carly rising, the freshness Of
those morning hours preceding the un,which
few anti-piscatory critics know anv tl,inc
about; that wondrous carlv-mornirr sinrinn
OF birds. compared to which all attcr-lay sonrs
are mere CALCULATIONS; for such is the tuuult
and supcrabundancc of sweet noise soon after
!: o'clock in Summer, that one would think
that ii every dcw-,.rop were musical note.
and the birds had drank them all. thcv roul,l
not have been moro multitulinous or ,]clic-
loUS. Then, there is that incompatible sense
OF freedom which one has in remote folds :,
forests, and along the streams. His heart.
trained in life to play with lets. like an arti-
fetal fountain, seems, as he wandcrs along the
streams, to resume its own liberty. and like a
meadow brook, to wind and turn. amid flow
ers and frirging shrubs, at is own unmolcst
ed pleasure.
Care and trouble, in ordinary life, and cs-
pcciallv in cities, disturb the fountains of feel
inr. as rubbish fallen into The fountains Of
ruined cities in the east, chokcs them. or
S,'lts and scattcrs their streams through all
secret channels.
One who believes God to have made the
world, and to have expressed his own tastes
and thoughts in the making. cannot express
what feelings those are which speak music
through his heart. A little plant growing in
silent simplicity in some covert spot, or look
ING down upon him from out of rift in some
rock upiitcd high above his reach or climb
ing-what has it said to him, that he stops.
and cazcs as if he saw more than material
forms? What is that rush Of feeling in his
heart, and that strange opening up OF thoughts
as if revelation had been made to him .
Who that has literal eye, could see anv
thing but that solitary flower casting linear
shadow on the side Of the gray rock shad-
ow that loves to culver, and nod, and dance,
to every step which the wind-blown flower
takes? But this floral preacher up in that
pulpit has many a time preached tears into
my eyes, and told me more than | was ever
able to tell again.
Indeed. i'll many ard many tramp. TIE
best sporting was t.ouc on MY back Fla; an