face. Any slight alarm caused by their first descent upon the breezeless water has now subsided, and as they-three favourite flies which we are now to name-do hold the even tenor of their way towards the unrippled shore,-" Sam Slick" leading, the "Professor" mid-way, and "Long Tom" at the lag end, all as it were hastening homeward with rapid strides,-no marvel that the attention of some magnificent three pounder, lying in wait below, is suddenly excited:-he rises upwards, at first sedately like a king in court, then the broad pectorals are expanded, as quickly closed, the deep rudder is waved from side to side with powerful sway, a rapid dart ensues, a single pectoral is again protruded for a moment, a slight and instantaneous turn takes place, the jagged jaws are closed, he has seized the Professor, and goes down head foremost with a most indignant flourish of the tail! Now he may certainly do what he likes with his own, but gentle reader, the tackle is either yours or mine. For the sake of illustration let us suppose it yours. Up then with the tip of your rod, which, owing to the dream-like calm already so well described, and for reasons just assigned, is pointing downwards, and almost in a continuous direction with the line-a most dangerous posture, seeing that the tug of war then rests entirely on the latter, so up with your rod-which action also serves to strike the fish-and let the reel ring out as it may. Down he continues to go, Sam Slick beat by a couple of lengths, the Professor engulfed, and invisible even to kelpie's eye, and Long Tom also diving down

wards, nolens volens, at a fearful rate, but wondering greatly what to make of such a sudden change from softly shaded light to dingy darkness. Our spotted friend now pauses for a moment, the line slackens, and your heart, though a bold one, beats with fear, for you think him gone for ever; but no, the tightened line and trilling reel reassure your doubting grasp, and away he goes again, launching lake-ward, as if he really thought of crossing over. Now this freak wont suit you if you are wishing only to wade, have no boat, and can't swim; so (but not ungently) try to check his speed, or wheel him round, and as one good turn deserves another, he may have his own way on the gridiron towards night. Neatly done, youngster. Now he goes onwards right or left, perhaps comes pretty quickly towards you, as if to enquire by whom has been disturbed his solitary reign (reel up, and keep no slack upon your line)-give way again, for behold another burst of virtuous indignation, followed by a sudden spring of at least a yard into the air. Never mind,-you have proved a tenacious hold, he begins to pech, and will soon be mollified to your content. He now takes a quiet and rather disagreeable kind of tugging range along the shore, perhaps with no bad intention, nor any definite object in view, but really looking at times as if he were in sober search of some quiet landing place. Do you the same. Behold how sweet a harbour close at hand,-small gravelly stones, and sand, and broken shells, a fairy haunted haven, the shelving neither sudden nor much prolonged, the

bank-"small by degrees and beautifully less." What would ye more, so lead him gently inwards. By Jupiter! he makes another run and tries to dig, but can't. Alas! poor Yorick ! His movements now are heavy, as if his fins were lead, his mouth is opened wide (see how the fierce Professor, with deep sunk barb, doth hang upon his tongue), languid and sore distressed he wavers to and fro, as if some thickening haze suffused his sight, he shews his broadening side, blazoned with pearls and gold. How beautiful he looks, as nearing the pebbly shore, his dorsal fin dimples the shallower depths,-no creature swims so softly as a fish. Give him the option now, once more, of land or water. Shorten your line to the utmost, but take care of the top knot, for it does no good within the ring; now he enters the hoped for haven,-lead away, my hearty,—he turns on one side (oh! goodly gut be strong), his head is out of water, his gills heave, there is a suspicious looking movement of the pectoral fins, but your hand has grasped his body just above the tail, and, in another moment, you are sitting together on the green sward, as if you had known each other all your lives. Sic transit gloria trutta.

Now, of the noted flies above named, (and we have performed the same feat with each and all), none of the three resembles, or was ever intended to resemble, nature. We ourself invented, in a wayward hour, both Sam Slick and Long Tom, and the Professor, as is well known to the world in general, was called into existence by a younger

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brother of our own, whose merits in that and many other matters need not our feeble praise. mean no offence, but if any created creature, from an angler to an angel, alleges that any trout could have a foreknowledge of our invention, or that of our gifted brother, and that it views our flies ast "old familiar faces," we blush not to say he lies— under a huge mistake.

Nevertheless, as we know that the progress of truth, though slow, is certain, and having no desire to proselytise, we merely commend our views to the considerate reader, and shall now proceed to explain a few practical principles of the art, as usually received and followed.

The great secret in fly-fishing, after a person has acquired the art of throwing a long and a light line, is perseverance, that is, constant and continuous exertion. Fish are whimsical creatures, even when the angler, with all appliances and means to boot, is placed apparently under the most favourable circumstances. Let him, however, commence his operations with flies, which, upon general principles, he knows to be good,—for example, a water-mouse body and dark wing, hare-ear and moorfowl wing, red hackle and teal or mallard wing. It may frequently happen that for an hour, or even two hours, he will kill nothing; but then it will as often happen, that for another couple of hours, he will pull them ashore with a most pleasing celerity.

Awake but one, and, lo, what myriads rise!

Next comes a pause of another hour or more, during which little or nothing is obtained, so that if the intermediate period is frittered away on green banks, eating biscuits, success is doubtful or impossible. We believe that the appetites and motions of the finny tribes are regulated and directed by certain (to us) almost imperceptible changes in the state of the atmosphere, with which, as they do not proceed from any determinate or ascertained principles of meteorological science, it is not easy for the angler to become acquainted; and therefore the only method to remedy the désagrément thus arising, is to fish without ceasing so long as he remains by the "pure element of waters." The art of angling, if worthily followed, and with an observant eye, will probably one day or other be the means of throwing considerable light on the science of electricity, at present one of the most obscure, though at the same time the most important and pervading, of all the subjects of physical learning. Professor Forbes has promised us to do something in this line, and will give in his "Report" the first time the British Association holds its meeting at Aberfoyle or Rowardennan.

The best natural flies, either to use fresh, or to serve as models for the artificial kinds, are-First, the different sorts of stoneflies (Phryganea and Limnephilus), which are usually found by the water side. Their common colours are various shades of brown; they have pretty long feelers or antennæ, which in a state of repose are bent over their shoulders and along their sides; their wings

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