8. If the water be of a whey colour, or whitish, then use a black or brown fly: yet these six last rules do not always hold, though usually they do, or else I had omitted them.

9. Observe principally the belly of the fly, for that colour the fish observe most, as being most in their eye.

10. When you angle with an artificial fly, your line may be twice the length of your rod, except the river be much encumbered with wood and trees.

11. For every sort of fly have three; one of a lighter colour, another sadder than the natural fly, and a third of the exact colour with the fly, to suit all waters and weathers, as before.

12. I never could find, by any experience of mine own, or other man’s observation, that fish would freely and eagerly rise at the artificial fly, in any slow muddy rivers: by muddy rivers, I mean such rivers, the bottom or ground of which is slime or mud; for such as are mudded by rain, as I have already, and shall afterwards further, shew at sometimes and seasons I would choose to angle, yet in standing meers or sloughs, I have known them, in a good wind, to rise very well, but not so in slimy rivers, either the Weever, in Cheshire, or the Sow, in Staffordshire, and others in Warwickshire, &c. and the Black-water in Ulster; in the last, after many trials, though in its best streams, I could never find almost any sport, save at its influx in Lough Neagh; but there the working of the Lough makes it sandy; and they will bite also near Tom Shane’s Castle, Mountjoy, Antrim, &c. even to admiration; yet sometimes they will rise in that river a little, but not comparable to what they will do in every little Lough, in any small gale of wind. And though I have often reasoned in my own thoughts, to search out the true cause of this, yet I could never so fully satisfy my own judgment, so as to conclude any thing positively; yet have taken up these two ensuing particulars as most probable.

1. I conjectured the depth of the loughs might hinder the force of the sun beams from operating upon, or heating the mud in those rivers, which though deep, yet are not so deep as the loughs; I apprehend that to be the cause, as in great droughts fish bite but little in any river, but not at all in slimy rivers, in regard the mud is not cooled by the constant and swift motion of the river, as in gravelly or sandy rivers, where, in fit seasons, they rise most freely, and bite most eagerly, save as before in droughts, notwithstanding at that season some sport may be had, though not with the fly, whereas nothing at all will be done in muddy slow rivers.

2. My second supposition was, whether, according to that old received axiom, suo quæque, similima cœlo, the fish might not partake of the nature of the river, in which they are bred and live, as we see in men born in fenny, boggy, low, moist grounds, and thick air, who ordinarily want that present quickness, vivacity, and activity of body and mind, which persons born in dry, hilly, sandy soils and clear air, are usually endued withal. The fish participating of the nature of the muddy river, which is ever slow, for if they were swift, the stream would cleanse them from all mud, are not so quick, lively, and active, as those bred in swift, sandy, or stony rivers, and so coming to the fly with more deliberation, discern the same to be counterfeit, and forsake it; whereas, on the contrary, in stony, sandy, swift rivers, being colder, the fish are more active, and so more hungry and eager, the stream and hand keeping the fly in continual motion, they snap the same up without any pause, lest so desirable a morsel escape them.

You must have a very quick eye, a nimble rod and hand, and strike with the rising of the fish, or he instantly finds his mistake, and forces out the hook again: I could never, my eye-sight being weak, discern perfectly where my fly was, the wind and stream carrying it so to and again, that the line was never any certain direction or guide to me; but if I saw a fish rise, I use to strike if I discerned it might be within the length of my line.

Be sure in casting, that your fly falls first into the water, for if the line falls first, it scares or frightens the fish; therefore draw it back, and cast it again, that the fly may fall first.

When you try how to fit your colour to the fly, wet your fur, hair, wool, or moccado, otherwise you will fail in your work; for though when they are dry, they exactly suit the colour of the fly, yet the water will alter most colours, and make them lighter or darker.