MR. SCROPE'S DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SALMON-FISHING. THE subject of

this handsome volume is salmon-fishing in the Tweed ; no other fish, no other river, forming part of the author's theme. Cold-blooded animals that excite the envy and the joy of the Southron angler- " Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the watery plains"— may receive a passing and half.contemptuous mention ; but no at- tention is paid to them as river-game, beyond some juvenile reminis- cences. The Tay is incidentally noticed, for Mr. SCROPE had a place upon its banks, and descended its falls and rapids in some- thing like a cockle-shell, when the river was at full flood,—excited thereto by the stimulating narratives of American travellers : but fish and fishing in the Tay are unsaid. There is a long chapter on the natural history of the salmon family : but it is limited to the family dwelling in the Tweed. There is a disquisition touch- ing a small fish called parr, that men have been permitted to slaughter with impunity ; though Mr. SCROPE has long held that these pan-s are in reality young salmon, and should be protected by act of Parliament,—a fact which Mr. SHAW has lately demonstrated by a series of curious and painstaking experiments : but, though Mr. SHAW'S experiments were made in another river, it seems to have been the parr of the Tweed that induced the speculations and meditations of Mr. SCROFE. Fished in other and of course inferior waters he has, we learn it both incidentally and in his piscatorial reminiscences : but it is only about the Tweed that he professes to give instructions,—chiefly and at large touching fly-fishing, not, however, omitting fishing by bait, net, spear, trident, and some other modes that must make an angler's hair stand on end. In- deed, Mr. SCROPE admits that "all this to the Southern ear sounds Eke poaching of the most flagitious description" : but then, the fliheries of the Tweed have been rented at 12,000/. a year; so duty (to yourself) before delicacy—if you don't catch all you can whilst they are in your waters, you are merely sparing them for your neighbour above, who will profit by your foolish refinement. The composition of the work bears some resemblance to that of NIMROD; not so much in character as in kind. There is in both writers a taint of slang and an effort to be vivacious by dint of words ; to which they also attach an undue importance in other things than vivacity. But Mr. SCROPE is superior to NIMROD in weight of matter, nature, and heartiness ; and though there is a touch of mannerism in his facetiousness, there is a real liveliness both of thought and feeling at bottom. The plan of the Days and Nights of Salmon- Fishing is perhaps a little forced. It opens with a sketch of London anglers, Cockney fishermen of various degrees of excellence ; which, after leading to the salmon fly-fisher, is fol- lowed by an account of the salmon tribe, and the disquisition on the parr already spoken of. The business of instruction is pre- faced by reminiscences interspersed with "good stories" of the author's progress in the art ; and the expositions of the different modes of salmon-fishing in the Tweed is varied by the introduction of many characters, animated by dramatic exhibition, and relieved by other topics—as the critical discourse with Mr. Tintern the artist, on the principles of landscape-painting. Sometimes the mono- logues of the characters of the Tweed have a touch of the tedious, and their storied jokes are sometimes insufferably dull : but still the plan often imparts both life and interest to the lecture on fish- ing. Here is an example, in the

STORY OF DUNCAN GRANT.

All I can do is to recommend caution and patience ; and the better to encou- rage you in the exercise of these virtues, I will recount what happened to Duncan Grant in days of yore.

"First, you must understand that what is called 'preserving the river' was formerly unknown, and every one who chose to take a cast did so without let or hindrance.

"In pursuance of this custom, in the month of July some thirty years ago, one Duncan Grant, a shoemaker by profession, who was more addicted to fish- ing :than to his craft, went up the way from the village of Aberlour, in the North, to take a cast in some of the pools above Elchies Water. He had no great choice of tackle, as may be conceived; nothing, in fact, but what was useful, and scant supply of that.

"Duncan tried one or two pools without success, till he arrived at a very deep and rapid stream, facetiously termed 'the Mountebank': here he paused,

as if meditating whether he should throw his line or not. She is very big,' said he to himself, but I'll try her : if I grip him he'll be worth the handing.' He then fished it, a step and a throw, about half-way down ; when a heavy splash proclaimed that he had raised him, though he missed the fly. Going back a few paces, be came over him 'again, and hooked him. The first tog verified to Duncan his prognostication, that if he was there 'he would be worth the banding'; but his tackle had thirty plies of hair next the fly, and he held fast, nothing daunted. Give and take went on with dubious advantage, the fish occasionally sulking. The thing at length became serious; and, after a succession of the some tactics, Duncan found himself at the Boat of Aberlour, seven hours after he had hooked his fish, the said fish fast under a stone, and

himself completely tired. He had some thoughts of breaking his tackle and giving the thing up ; but he finally hit upon an expedient to rest himself and at the same time to guard against the surprise and consequence of a sudden movement of the fish.

"Ile laid himself down comfortably on the banks, the butt-end of his rod in front ; and most ingeniously drew out part of his line, which be held in his teeth. 'If he rugs when I'm sleeping,' said he, I think I'll find him noo': and no doubt it is probable that he would. Accordingly, after a comfortable nap of three or four hours, Duncan was awoke by a most unceremonious tug at his jaws. In a moment he was on his feet, his rod well up, and the fish swat- teeing down the stream. He followed as best he could, and was beginning to think of the rock at Craiggellachie, when he found, to his great relief, that he could 'get a pull on him.' He had now comparatively easy work ; and, ex- actly twelve hours after hooking him, he clacked him at the head of Lord Fife's water: he weighed fifty-four pounds Dutch, and had the tide-lice upon him."

Thus Duncan Grant has instructed us how to manage a large salmon.

It may be guessed from this specimen, allowing something for the proverbial exaggeration of sportsmen, that salmon 9y-fishing is no slight work—it is not for every one to go to the Tweed. These are some of the qualifications required before a man can catch salmon, or at least before he should be advised to pay rent for per- mission to try.

QUALIFICATIONS OF A SALMON-FISHER.

As for myself, if I am ever so indiscreet as to utter a word about fishing, I am always asked, "if it does not require a great deal of patience." Now, these sort of interrogators are in Cimmerian darkness as to the real thing. But I tell them; that to be a first-rate salmon-fisher requires such active properties as they never dreamed of in their philosophy. It demands (salmon-fishing at least) strength of arm and endurance of fatigue and a capability of walking in the sharp streams for eight or ten hours together, with perfect satisfaction to one's self; and that early in the spring season, when the clean salmon first come forward. In after life, people are considerably addicted to boats, and to go about attended like admirals; that is what we must all come to. But your real professor, who has youth on his side, should neither have boats nor boots, but be sufficient in himself. No delay, no hauling the boat up the stream, but in and out, like an otter ; even like we ourselves in the time of our prime,

Fahrenheit being below z ro. • • I say, then, and will maintain it, that a salmon-fisher should be strong in the arms, or he will never be able to keep on thrashing for ten or twelve hours to- gether with a rod eighteen or twenty feet long, with ever and anon a lusty salmon at the end of his line, pulling like a wild horse with the lasso about him. Now he is obliged to keep his arms aloft, that the line may clear the rocks; now he must rush into the river, then back out with nimble pastern, always keeping a steady and proper strain of line; and he must preserve his self-possession " even in the very tempest and whirlwind of the sport," when the salmon rushes like a rocket. This is not moody work ; it keeps a man alive and stirring. Patience indeed !

It is indispensable to have a quick eye and a ready hand: your fly, or its exact position, should never be lost sight of; and yon should imagine every moment of the livelong day that an extraordinary large salmon is coming at it. No man can do any thing properly unless he is sanguine and his whole heart and soul is in the business. "Remember, my good people all, I do not wish to press this laborious sport unfairly upon you : excuse me, but it may be you are not exactly fit for it,—' non euivia hotraini,' " &c. You may sainter about with a gauze net and two sticks, if you prefer and catch butterflies : every man to his vocation: but "what is a gentleman without his recreations ? "

There is a speculation in angling that gives great zest to the sport. You may catch a moderate-sized fish, or a distinguished one, or, mayhap, a monster of such stupendous dimensions as will render your name immortal; and he may be painted, and adorn some fishing-tackle shop in London, like Colonel Thornton's pike, which threw Newmarket on his back as he was landing him,— a lad, says the Colonel, so called from the place of his nativity. Of course you expect the latter phienomenon every cast. You see him in your mind's eye eternally following your fly, and you are ready to strike from second to

i second. It s true he does not actually come, as experience teaches. But what of that ? he may come in an hour, in a minute, in a moment ; the thing is pos- sible, and that is enough for an angler.

The lithographic illustrations are a striking feature in the volume ; being not only picturesque embellishments, but exempli- fying the character of the scenery and the operations of the sports- men. Messrs. W. Simon, C. LANDSEBE, and E. Cooxs, have sketched them with the gusto of craftsmen skilled both in angling and painting; and WILKIE contributed a *etch, which, slight though it be, has life, movement, and character, beyond what the more carefully-executed drawings of his coadjutors exhibit : the action of the men "working the net" and their eagerness to ascer- tain the "take," are vividly expressed by a few strokes of the lead pencil. The lithographs are executed by L. HAGUE with his accustomed cleverness, and are printed in colours or rather in neutral tints of gray and brown heightened with red : the night- scenes, where the lurid glare of the torches is opposed to the cold brightness and deep shadows of moonlight, are very effectively rendered by simple means - and the daylight landscapes have a bracing air of freshness and coolness. Critically speaking, the opposition of the tints is too strong—you see where one ends and another begins ; and the red tufts on the Scotch bonnet have no business to be visible—they look like red-hot coals, and we long to put them out.