or three miles of stream in Buckinghamshire; nor gentlemen anglers in Ross-shire so well fenced in from chance intruders as by the side of a brook which skirts a gentleman's pleasure-grounds within twenty miles of London.

Fly-fishing is most assuredly that branch of angling which is the most exciting, and which requires the greatest skill with the greatest personal exertion to ensure success. Fly-fishing in a preserved water, where a gentleman, perchance in ball-room dress, alights from his carriage to take an hour or two's easy amusement, is no more like fly-fishing in a mountain stream -where the angler wanders free to seek his fish where he will and take them where he can-than slaughtering pheasants, in a manner fed at the barn-door, and almost as tame as the poultry which are regularly bred in the yard, can be compared to the active exertion of grouse-shooting. The angler who lives in the neighbourhood of, or visits even the best trout streams, has not unfrequently to walk miles, if he wishes to bring home a well-filled creel, before he finds it worth his while to make a cast. When he has reached a place where trout are plentiful, and disposed to rise, his labours then only He now and then hooks a large trout, which he has to keep in play for some time before he can draw him to land. The fish has run all the line out, and with strong effort is making up or down the stream; and the angler, being no longer

commence.

able to follow him on the shore-for a tree, a rock, or a row of alders prevents him,-and knowing that his tackle, which towards the hook is of the finest gut, will not hold the trout, and rather than lose the speckled beauty, three pounds weight at the least, into the water he goes, up to his knees, and possibly a yard above, the first step. And thus he continues leading a sort of amphibious life, now on land, now in the water, for nearly half a day, till he has killed his creel-full, about the size of a fish-woman's pannier, with some three or four dozen besides, strung on his garters and suspended over his rod. In this guise, light-hearted-for he has reason to be proud of his success-though heavily laden, he takes his way homeward; and then does he, for the first time, note how rapidly the hours have fled. He came out about two in the afternoon, just thinking to try if the trout would rise, as there had been a shower in the morning and the water was a little coloured; and he now perceives that the sun, which is shedding a flood of glory through the rosy clouds that for half an hour before partly obscured his rays, will in ten minutes sink behind the western hill, although it be the 21st of June. Involuntarily he stands for a while to gaze upon the scene. Everything around him in the solitude of the hills-for there is no human dwelling within five miles-appears quiet and composed, but not sad. The face of nature appears with a chastened loveliness, induced by the

departing day; the winds are sleeping, and so are the birds-lark and linnet, blackbird and thrush : the leaves of the aspen are seen to move, but not heard to rustle: the bubbling of the stream, as it hurries on over rocks and pebbles, is only heard. The angler's mind is filled with unutterable thoughts-with wishes pure, and aspirations high. From his heart he pours, as he turns towards home, "Thanks to the glorious God of Heaven,

Which sent this summer day."

The exercise which the angler takes when flyfishing is no less conducive to the health of his body, than the influence of pleasing objects contributes to a contented mind. He is up in the summer morning with the first note of the lark ; and ere he return at noon he has walked twenty miles;

By burn and flow'ry brae,

Meadow green and mountain grey,"

and has ate nothing since he despatched a hasty breakfast of bread and milk about four in the morning; nor drank, except a glass of Cogniac or Glenlivat, qualified with a dash of pure spring water from the stone trough of a wayside well-see it here on his way home. When he goes to the water-side, as it is more than likely that he will have to wade, he puts on a pair of lambswool socks and an extra pair in his pocket. Should his feet be wet when he leaves off fishing, he exchanges his wet socks for a pair of dry ones, and walks home in