He was literally a "fisher of men." His antagonist was well armed with a long sword and a helmet like the head of a fish, while he was himself equipped with a short dagger and a net. This last he sought to throw around his adversary, and, having entangled him in it, to thrust the stiletto into his vitals. This sport the Romans much admired; and when the net-gladiator shouted out his brutal joke-"I am trying to catch a fish, not you; why do you avoid me ?"-cheers, loud and long went up from the rav ished multitude. A favorite mode of taking fish in ancient times was by the weel or fish-trap, constructed on the general principle of the eel-pot, or New England snap jaw. It was made of wicker and baited within. Its opening was ample and inviting, but the passage-way tapered gradually until it was just narrow enough for the ingress of the victim. The difficulties of retreating through the pointed inner opening of the weel will be readily appreciated by any one familiar with the model of a common mouse-trap. "Facilis descensus Averni; Sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras, It is said that the mullet, when caught in one of these cages, made no attempt to force his head through the pointed twigs which oppose him, but, turning himself around, beat the wicker passage with his tail until it was broken or enlarged by his lusty blows and escape was easy. As "masterly inactivity" has come to be no paradox, this trick of the mullet may be called a "vigorous backing out." The practice of poisoning bait seems to have been understood in Campania. Instead of the berry of the cocculus indicus, which we mix with dough for intoxicating minnows, the ancients used the small bulbous root of heart-wort, which they called ground-poison, mixed with chalk, which brought the greedy fish lifeless to the top of the water, almost instantly. But I know you wish to hear something of the more genteel equipments of the Roman anglers; such as rod and wicker-bag, line and hook. All these were in use in the times of Augustus. Athough a pithy reed grew in Italy, which was sometimes used by anglers, yet the patrician fisherman imported his bamboo rod from Albaris in Africa. The wicker-bag, which was then carried for the reception of the spoil, reminds us of our own practice. The line was of flax, and the hook of brass, bent and barbed like ours. A piece of horse-hair (bristle, as the Roman writers call it,) was attached to the end of the line, on account of its transparency. This Verily, "there is nothing new under the sun." The phrase, "masterly in activity," so generally attributed to Mr. Calhoun, was used before this gentleman's day in the British House of Lords. But the words, "viva quies," as used in this epigram and in allusion to the still strength of the tide, embody the same paradoxical idea in nearly the same words. is another item of evidence that the world is not so much wiser now than it was of old. Martial describes the bristle as quivering with the weight of the captive fish. Ovid mentions some of the fishes which might be caught with a hook: among others the pike, the mullet, and the gold-spotted lamprey. He also minutely describes their cunning habits; the mullet's mode of striking the bait from the hook with his tail, the sharp bite of the lamprey and the blind fury of the pike. Ausonius, speaking of the "blue Moselle," or the "divine Moselle" as he calls it, alludes to the noble salmon, the trout, "starred with purple spots," and a third fish partaking of the nature of both the former, as inhabiting its waters. This third fish was, doubtless, the salmon-trout. Rare angling must there have been "In the glad waters of the smooth Moselle." Other Latin writers speak of fishes and fishing. Horace, I am confident, was too lazy to partake in the sport of angling, but ready enough to taste the spoil and wash it down with "old Falernian." He lets us know that a trick of modern cockney-sportsmen is not so modern as it might be. Roman gentlemen were known to equip themselves with fishing tackle and then buy at the market-place the ostensible spoil of an imaginary sporting expedition. Cicero and Martial speak of some of the great fishermen of old Rome. Hortensius and Lucullus both owned magnificent fishponds, in which they reared the chief luxury of their tables. Cicero in making mention of them to Atticus, calls them his "fishpond-loving friends," which term was enough to identify them without adding their names. Martial alludes to the Emperor Domitian himself, as if he also indulged the piscatory mania. The same author mentions the fondness of Apollinaris for angling, but as it were a taste which was seldom gratified. The latter had a villa on the shore of Formiac, (now Molo di Gaeta,) which the pressure of his business at Rome rarely allowed him to visit, so that his porter and slaves were left to luxuriate alone in the pleasures of their master's country-seat. Speaking of Apollinaris and Formiac, the poet says: "There lightest breezes crisp the sea; 'Tis calm-but dull it cannot be. As those, which at the noontide oft Will seek the maiden, worn with heat And driven to her green retreat, To part her purple robe and rest Nor, with elastic line, need he Sail far into the open sea, But from his couch and banquet-hall The angler's line may lightly fall, And lure the fish, which sport beneath, To snatch the bait which hides their death. While storms are driving o'er the deep, But now by you are wholly shared." Pliny tells some amazing stories about fishing; in short, "fishstories" as they are sometimes called in the dialect of slang. He says that the best time to angle is when the sun is passing the sign of the zodiac called "Pisces." He states for a fact, that in certain places men fish for tunnies with a chain for a line, and that, when one is "hooked," it is drawn out by a yoke of oxen! In another place, he relates a story of the manner in which dolphins assist the fishermen of Narbonne in catching fish of other kinds. The whole population of the district, he says, stream down to the side of a certain lake to see the nets drawn. They raise a loud shout, which is responded to by troops of dolphins. Rushing in squadrons up into the shallows in which shoals of mullets have taken refuge beyond the reach of nets, the dolphins drive them out into the open sea. Immediately the fishermen throw their nets around both pursuers and pursued. The mullets, however, leap over the nets, unless frightened back or killed by the dolphins. In this murderous work the latter engage, not stopping to consume their prey, but, with true martial spirit, "preferring," as Pliny says, "victory to food." The battle goes on furiously. The dol phins seem to enjoy getting into the net and swimming about among the men and boats. When they have effected the capture, they tear their captives in pieces. After satisfying their hunger, "conscious of having accomplished more than could be compensated by one day's reward, they defer farther enjoyment of their plunder until the morrow." Such is the narrative of Pliny. Angling-thanks to Isaak Walton-has always been supposed to be connected with serious musing and sound moralizing. Many Roman proverbs were drawn from the practices of fishermen and the cruel fate of fishes. The emperor Augustus-who, to relax his mind, used to go fishing and play marbles with little boys-uttered a very appropriate comparison, derived from the piscatory art. "Those," said the royal moralizer, "who pursue slight advantages at a serious risk, are like anglers fishing with a golden hook: the loss of which if they happen to be broken off, can be compensated by nothing which they can catch." You recollect the lesson taught by Cleopatra to Antony at a fishing party; a lesson on "seeming and being." So anxious was Antony on all occasions to present to his queenly mistress the glorious charm of success, that, when he found one day at a fishing-party that his luck was bad, fearing to be disgraced in her eyes, he ordered his divers to plunge into the water and put upon his hook fishes which had been already caught. After several repetitions of this trick, Cleopatra perceived it. But Antony, professing great surprise and delight at his success, invited the whole party to come and witness a renewal of it on the day following. A crowd assembled: but, as soon as his line was let down, Cleopatra ordered one of her divers to hang a pickled fish upon Antony's hook. Soon after Antony pulled up his ridiculous prize, which was greeted with much merriment. But Cleopatra meant less to mortify Antony than by this incident to give more point to one of her incomparable flatteries; “Go, general," said she; "leave fishing to us petty princes of Pharos and Canopus; cities, kingdoms and provinces make your sport." CONTENTMENT. It springs from within, from the depths of the soul; It springs from above; there its fountain is pure, Ye sad sons of earth! be attracted and fly On the fleet wings of thought, to its home in the sky. RUTH. BY ELIZABETH G. BARBER. The mists of morning melted, as the light The dew drops gemmed her path, as sad and slow Afar from Moab, and its smiling fields The dew drops, tears of night, which even now And so Naomi's silent tears were kissed Let me go forth with thee, Oh, stricken mother, in thy sorrowful hour, Bright is the land we leave! Soft are its winds, and lovely are its skies; I may not look behind, My heart throbs wildly, and my eye grows dim; My lost one, and thy son! Oh, tearful mother, we shall hear no more |