STREAM STUDIES are clear and sparkling. They cleanse the mind
and refresh the heart and put us more in love with living. Of quite a
different style are the MAXIMS AND HINTS FOR AN ANGLER, AND MISERIES OF
FISHING, which were written by Richard Penn, a grandson of the founder
of Pennsylvania. This is a curious and rare little volume, professing
to be a compilation from the "Common Place Book of the Houghton Fishing
Club," and dealing with the subject from a Pickwickian point of view.
I suppose that William Penn would have thought his grandson a frivolous
writer.

But he could not have entertained such an opinion of the Honourable
Robert Boyle, of whose OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS no less than twelve
discourses treat "of Angling Improved to Spiritual Uses." The titles
of some of these discourses are quaint enough to quote. "Upon the being
called upon to rise early on a very fair morning." "Upon the mounting,
singing, and lighting of larks." "Upon fishing with a counterfeit fly."
"Upon a danger arising from an unseasonable contest with the steersman."
"Upon one's drinking water out of the brim of his hat." With such good
texts it is easy to endure, and easier still to spare, the sermons.

Englishmen carry their love of travel into their anglimania, and many of
their books describe fishing adventures in foreign parts. RAMBLES WITH
A FISHING-ROD, by E. S. Roscoe, tells of happy days in the Salzkammergut
and the Bavarian Highlands and Normandy. FISH-TAILS AND A FEW OTHERS, by
Bradnock Hall, contains some delightful chapters on Norway. THE ROD IN
INDIA, by H. S. Thomas, narrates wonderful adventures with the Mahseer
and the Rohu and other pagan fish.

But, after all, I like the English angler best when he travels at home,
and writes of dry-fly fishing in the Itchen or the Test, or of wet-fly
fishing in Northumberland or Sutherlandshire. There is a fascinating
booklet that appeared quietly, some years ago, called AN AMATEUR
ANGLER'S DAYS IN DOVE DALE. It runs as easily and merrily and kindly
as a little river, full of peace and pure enjoyment. Other books of the
same quality have since been written by the same pen,--DAYS IN CLOVER,
FRESH WOODS, BY MEADOW AND STREAM. It is no secret, I believe, that
the author is Mr. Edward Marston, the senior member of a London
publishing-house. But he still clings to his retiring pen-name of "The
Amateur Angler," and represents himself, by a graceful fiction, as all
unskilled in the art. An instan