* * * * *
I sat upon the bank, at the bottom of the hill which slopes down from ‘the Earl’s Home’; my float was on the waters, and my back was towards the old hall. I drew up many fish, small and great, which I took from off the hook mechanically and flung upon the bank, for I was almost unconscious of what I was about, for my mind was not with my fish. I was thinking of my earlier years—of the Scottish crags and the heaths of Ireland—and sometimes my mind would dwell on my studies—on the sonorous stanzas of Dante, rising and falling like the waves of the sea—or would strive to remember a couplet or two of poor Monsieur Boileau.
’Canst thou answer to thy conscience for pulling all those fish out of the water, and leaving them to gasp in the sun?’ said a voice, clear and sonorous as a bell. I started, and looked round. Close behind me stood the tall figure of a man, dressed in raiment of quaint and singular fashion, but of goodly materials. He was in the prime and vigour of manhood; his features handsome and noble, but full of calmness and benevolence; at least, I thought so, though they were somewhat shaded by a hat of finest beaver, with broad drooping eaves.
’Surely that is a very cruel diversion in which thou indulgest, my young friend,’ he continued.
‘I am sorry for it, if it be, sir,’ said I, rising; ’but I do not think it cruel to fish.’
‘What are thy reasons for not thinking so?’
’Fishing is mentioned frequently in Scripture. Simon Peter was a fisherman.’
’True; and Andrew and his brother. But thou forgettest: they did not follow fishing as a diversion, as I fear thou doest. Thou readest the Scriptures?’
‘Sometimes.’
’Sometimes? not daily? that is to be regretted. What profession dost thou make? I mean to what religious denomination dost thou belong, my young friend?’
‘Church.’
’It is a very good profession—there is much of Scripture contained in its liturgy. Dost thou read aught besides the Scriptures?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘What dost thou read besides?’
‘Greek, and Dante.’
’Indeed! then thou hast the advantage over myself; I can only read the former. Well, I am rejoiced to find that thou hast other pursuits besides thy fishing. Dost thou know Hebrew?’
‘No.’
‘Thou shouldst study it. Why dost thou not undertake the study?’
‘I have no books.’
’I will lend thee books, if thou wish to undertake the study. I live yonder at the hall, as perhaps thou knowest. I have a library there, in which are many curious books, both in Greek and Hebrew, which I will show to thee, whenever them mayest find it convenient to come and see me. Farewell! I am glad to find that thou hast pursuits more satisfactory than thy cruel fishing.’
And the man of peace departed, and left me on the bank of the stream. Whether from the effect of his words, or from want of inclination to the sport, I know not, but from that day I became less and less a practitioner of that ‘cruel fishing.’