The statement that “Fishermen used the silk from the cocoon for their lines, a piece of sharpened iron for their hook, thorn-stick for their rod, and split grain for their bait”[1104] carries us back to an age very early and indefinite. On asking a high Sinitic authority what was the date of the Emperor in whose reign this tackle was employed, he rapped out, “Date! What was Adam’s date?”
The use of gut was familiar at any rate about the fourth century b.c., judging from the sentence in Lieh Tzǔ: “By making a line of cocoon silk, a hook of a sharp needle, a rod of a branch of bramble or dwarf bamboo, and using a grain of cooked rice as bait, one can catch a whole cartload of fish.”[1105]
Angling as a pastime must have secured the Imperial favour in early ages, as its metaphorical use by Sung Yü, fourth century b.c., indicates. “In the golden age,” he tells us, “the Emperors were fishers of men, using sages as their rod, the true doctrine as their line, charity of heart and duty to one’s neighbour as their bait, the world being their fishing ground, and the people their fishes.”
Strolling down the lane of Time, we meet (c. 1122 b.c.) with Chiang Tzǔ-ya, the first statesman to recognise the importance of fishing, and its allied industry, the manufacture of salt.[1106]
The tale—not of Chiang’s rise from a very lowly station to governance of a great Empire, for history furnishes many parallels—but of his Angling is morally edifying, piscatorially instructive, and is possibly responsible for the rise in Great Britain and America of the barbless school of anglers. As yet its pupils, despite the missionary zeal of Mr. Rhead, are scattered few and far between. The limitation of their numbers can doubtless be ascribed to their introspective and becoming fear lest the “real attraction,” which, according to a Chinese classic, was in our hero’s case not his straight iron but his innate virtue, should with them, either from sparsity or lowness of power, lack the requisite magnetism!
But retournons à nos poissons! King Wên, the founder of the Chou Dynasty, and one of the great sages—whence, perhaps, his intelligent annexation of Chiang, for all Anglers ex necessitate are, or should be, also sages—comes across our hero fishing with a piece of straight iron instead of a barbed hook. This tackle, he explains to the unrecognised monarch, is based on principles dear to our Conscientious Objectors, viz. voluntaryism—“for only volunteers would suffer themselves to be caught thuswise”—and of mercy—“since it gave all those who wished a chance of escape.”
Wên, from his many campaigns, observed much and missed little. He noticed the full creel. Thence, as a Sage would, deduced that since a virtuous man’s wants are always satisfied, Chiang must be just such a man. He felt instinctively that here indeed was the statesman whom his grandsire—observe the ancestor-reverence!—would have selected. So without more ado or any references as to character, Wên carried Chiang off, whether with or without the full creel history deigns no word, to his palace, installed him as Viceroy, and ever after termed him “my Grandfather’s Desire,” a sobriquet which, however well meant, our philosophic piscator—he was only eighty when caught straight-ironing—must at times have resented.[1107]
Not dissimilar in method if unlike in emolument, stands out the historical (for he shone in the eighth century a.d.) Chang Chih-ho, that “glittering example of humorous romantic detachment and carelessness of public opinion, who spent his time in angling, but used no baits, as his object was not to catch fish.”[1108]
But the greatest Sage of them all, Confucius, whose philosophy has for 2400 years permeated, perhaps even dominated, public polity and private action, was not as one of these. Humane, practical, and a sportsman, “The Master angled, but did not use a net: he shot, but not at birds perching,” which Legge[1109] in a note kindly expands into “Confucius would only destroy what life was necessary to him!” Since netting in his era (c. 500 b.c.), as now, held the field, or rather the water, the touch of the philosopher’s sole device being the rod implies a compliment, confirmed by the context, to his humane sportsmanship.
To Mr. Yen’s statement as to the importance of fish, marine or fresh-water, as a staple of subsistence in China can be added the evidence as regards ancient times collated by Werner,[1110] later times by Du Halde,[1111] and modern times by Williams,[1112] Gray,[1113] and Dabry de Thiersant.[1114] While they agree with the rest of the world in the economic necessity of fisheries, the people, and especially the epicures of China, differ profoundly from the European or American in ichthyic appreciation.