sible a subject; on which, perhaps, after all, it is wiser to confess our entire ignorance, and to bow down in humble adoration to the one incomprehensible Cause of all being.

POIET.—I agree with you in your last sentence; but I still adhere to my own view; and I hope you will not object to a favourite opinion of mine, that instincts are to animals what revelation is to man, intended to supply wants in their physical constitution, which in man are provided for by reason; and that revelation is to him as an instinct, teaching him what reason cannot his religious duties, the undying nature of his intellectual part, and the relations of his conduct to eternal happiness and misery.

HAL.-"Davus sum, non Edipus." I will not attempt to discuss this view of yours, Poietes: but I think I may say, that all the instincts of animals seem to be connected with pleasure or utility; and in man the feeling of love and the gratifying the appetites which approach nearest to instincts, are likewise highly delightful; and perhaps there is no more pleasurable state of the human mind than when, with intense belief, it looks forward to another world and to a better state of existence, or is absorbed in the adoration of the supreme and eternal Intelligence.

The Teme. Grounds of Downton, from a sketch by Mrs. Stackhouse Acton.-See Page 175.

SIXTH DAY.

Morning.

HAL.-Well met, my friends; it is a fine warm morning, there is a fresh breeze, the river is in excellent order for fishing; and I trust our good behaviour yesterday will ensure us sport to-day. There must be a great many fresh run fish in the pool; and after twenty-four hours' rest, some of those that were indisposed to take on Saturday evening, may have acquired appetite. Prepare your tackle,

and begin; but whilst you are preparing, I will mention a circumstance which every accomplished fly-fisher ought to know. You changed your flies on Saturday with the change of weather, putting the dark flies on for the bright gleams of the sun, and the gaudy flies when the dark clouds appeared. Now, I will tell you of another principle, which it is as necessary to know as the change of flies for change of weather-I allude to the different kinds of fly to be used in particular pools, and even for particular parts of pools. You have fished in this deep pool; and if you were to change it for a shallower one, such as that above, it would be proper to use smaller flies of the same colour; and in a pool still deeper, larger flies likewise in the rough rapid at the top, a larger fly may be used than below at the tail of the water and in the Tweed or Tay, I have often changed my fly thrice in the same pool, and sometimes with success-using three different flies for the top, middle, and bottom. I remember that when I first saw Lord Somerville adopt this fashion, I thought there was fancy in it; but experience soon proved to me how accomplished a salmon fisher was my excellent and lamented friend; and I adopted the lesson he taught me, and with good results, in all bright

:

waters.

:

POIET.-I will try the correctness of your principle.

Look at the fly now on my line; where would you recommend me to cast it?

HAL.-It is a large gaudy fly, and is fit for no part of this pool, except the extremely rough head of the torrent; there, I dare say, it will take in this state of the waters.

POIET.-Good, I hooked a large fish, but alas! he is off; yet I thought he was fairly caught.

HAL-The hook, I think, turned round at the moment you struck, and carried off some scales from the outside of his mouth.

POIET.—You are right; see, the scales are on the hook. I cannot raise another fish; I have tried almost all over the pool. I thought I saw a fish rise at the tail of the rapid.

HAL.-You did; he refused the fly. Now put on a fly one third of the size and of the same colour, and I think you will hook that fish.

POIET.-I have done so; and he is fast-and a fine fish; I think a salmon.

HAL-It is a salmon; and one above 10 lbs. Play him with care, and do not let him run into the rough part of the stream, where the large stones

are.

POIET.-It is, I think, the most active fish I have yet played with. See how high he leaps! He is making for the sea.

HAL.—Hold him tight, or you will lose him.

POIET.-Fear me not. strength, I shall turn him.

I trust, in spite of his

You see, I show him the

but of the rod, and his force is counterpoised by a very long lever.

HAL-You do well. But he has made a violent spring, and, I fear, is off.

POIET.-He is; but not, I think, by any fault of mine. He has carried off something.

HAL.-You played that fish so well, that I am angry at his loss. Either the hook, link, or line, failed you.

POIET.—It is the hook, which you see is broken, and not merely at the barb, but likewise in the shank. What a fool I was ever to use one of these London or Birmingham-made hooks.

HAL-The thing has happened to me often. I now never use any hooks for salmon fishing, except those which I am sure have been made by O'Shaughnessy, of Limerick; for even those made in Dublin, though they seldom break, yet they now and then bend and the English hooks, made of cast steel in imitation of Irish ones, are the worst of all. There is a fly nearly of the same colour as that which is destroyed; and I can tell you, that I saw it made at Limerick by O'Shaughnessy himself, and tied on one of his own hooks. Should you catch with it a fish

: