rise, and glided away quietly: for I thought enough had been said on the subject of painting already. As I stole off, however, I caught a few unconnected expressions; such as dark groves and solitude, - storms, - tempests, and alpine ridges.' Then he grew somewhat classical, and began to recite from Virgil 'Tot congesta manu præruptis oppida saxis, Fluminaqueantiquos subterlabentia muros.' At this I walked faster and faster, till I got totally out of hearing," &c. * This expression classical may apologize for the introduction of the following note. The Halieutics of Oppian is, on the whole, an elegant poem, and much superior to the Kunegetics. It has many poetical images, and sentiments of tenderness and beauty. We may be permitted to point out, in the first book, the description of maternal love and the feelings of the child when first arrived at its home, wondering at all it sees : ̔οδ ̓ οὐ φρονέων περ ̓ ἕκαστα Παπταίνει, μεγάροντε, καὶ ἤθεα τάντα τοκήων. The description of the cow, in the same book, wandering in search of her lost young, is told with simplicity and feeling. The same image has been used both by Lucretius (li. 355) and Statius in the Thebaid. In the second book the description of the drunken rake being robbed in reeling home from his midnight debauch has a stronger touch of modern manners than we should have expected. The description of love, the picture of the timid, blushing bride, embellish the fourth book; and from this we take the account of the sisters and young bride welcoming home their long absent brother and husband : – ἅτε ξείνηθεν ἰδοῦσαι Παρθενικᾶι δηναιὸν ἀδελφεὸν, ἤ γενετῆρα One more passage we must give, which is the reverse of the former, describing the departure of a husband or son to foreign shores, and we shall give it in a translation which does justice to the original (Δ. 334.) "As when some mourning dame her son or spouse, But in his description of the dolphin, the monarch of the seas, the favourite of Apollo, the friend of the poet, and the lover of justice and goodness, the author of the Halieutics seems to delight to lavish all the treasures of his genius, and to adorn this fish, so distinguished in ancient times, with all the decorations of his glowing and picturesque language, till he elevates it at last to an equality with man, and denounces the curse of unforgiving heaven against the murderer who sheds its blood. "The royal rangers of the purple flood, Discursive thought, and rivals human kind," &c. The following remarks result from the effect on the nerves of his friend the painter of a most terrific chase and combat with an immense fish : "As I now reckoned upon his attention, I told him as follows, how to manage a large salmon and how a large salmon may manage us. When you get hold of a monstrum horrendum ingens of a fish, say of some five-and-forty pounds, you must anticipate a very long and severe battle. If therefore you have a disposable Gilly with you despatch him instantly for some skilful fisherman, as well to assist you when you are exhausted with fatigue, as to bring your dinner and supper; not forgetting a dark lanthorn, that you may not be beaten by the shades of night-a circumstance by no means improbable. At the first onset you will probably be obliged to keep your arms and rod aloft, in order to steer clear of the rocks. This action with a heavy rod and large fish on your line is very distressing if continued even for a short time; and it will be necessary to repeat it often if the channel is not very favourable; and, in that case, your muscles will ache insupportably, if they at all resemble those of other men. The easiest position, when it is safe to use it, is to place the butt of your rod against the stomach as a rest, and to bring the upper part of the arm and the elbow in close contact with the side, putting on, at the same time, an air of determination. If your leviathan should be superlatively boisterous no one knows what may happen; for instance, should you be in a boat, and he should shoot away down the river, you must follow rapidly. Then when he again turns upwards, what a clever fellow your fisherman must be to stop a boat that has been going down a rapid stream at the rate of eight miles an hour, and bring it round all of a sudden in time to keep company with the fish who has taken an upward direction. And what a clever fellow piscator must be if he can prevent twenty yards of his line or more from hanging loose in the stream. These sort of things will happen, and they are ticklish concerns. All I can do is to recommend caution and patience; and the better to encourage 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 any one who chose to take a cast did so, without let or hinder ance. 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 fishing 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 hauding.' 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 he came over him again, and hooked him. The first try verified to Duncan his prognostication, that if he was there he would be worth the hauding;' 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 same 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 sur Not even the Homeric heroes had a higher sense of honour than this princely fish, or died with greater dignity : "Greatness of soul in latest hour appears. Δελφίνων δ' οὔπω τι θεώτερον ἄλλο τέτυκται. -REV. prise and consequence of a sudden movement of the fish. He 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 he 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 swattering down the stream. He followed as best he could, and was beginning to think of the rock at Craigellachie, when he found to his great relief that he could get a pull on him.' He had now a comparatively easy task; and exactly twelve hours after hooking him he cleicked 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. Let us now see how a large salmon can manage us. In the year 1815 Robert Kerse hooked a clean salmon, of about forty pounds, in the Makerstoun Water, the largest, he says, he ever encountered: sair work he had with him for some hours, till at last Rob, to use his own expression, was clean dune out.' He landed the fish, however, in the end, and laid him on the channel; astonished and rejoicing at his prodigious size, he called out to a man on the opposite bank of the river, who had been watching him for some time, Hey, mon, sic a fish!' He then went for a stone to fell him with, but as soon as his back was turned the fish began to wamble towards the water, and Kerse turned and jumped upon it: over they both tumbled, and they, line, hook, and all went into the Tweed.* The fish was too much for Rob, having broke the line, which got twisted round his leg, and made his escape, to his great disappointment and loss; for at the price clean salmon were then selling he could have got five pounds for it. Thus you see how a large fish may manage us." * There is a passage in Homer's Iliad, Ω. 80, which has some expressions regarding fishing-tackle, that we never could rightly understand. The poet describes Iris as sent by Jupiter to Thetis; and between the islands of Samos and Imbros she plunges into the sea. Ἡδὲ, μολυβδαίνη ἰκέλη, ές βυσσὸν ὄρουσεν Thus translated by Pope, "As bearing death in the fallacious bait, From the bent angle sinks the leaden weight;" where the second line, in which the difficulty lies, is altogether omitted. Cowper gives the passage thus : "As sinks the bull's horn with its leaden weight, But we are really at a loss to ascertain the meaning. The words in literal translation seem to convey the following image. "But she, like to lead (Latin version 'glandulæplumbeæ, a leaden bullet), plunged into the deep, which, passing through the horn of the ox, descends, bearing death to the voracious fish." We remember some years since meeting a Greek gentleman, who was also a scholar, and to whom we, barbari homines, ought to pay attention in such matters; and he attempted an ingenious solution of the passage, by mentioning that it is the custom of the fishermen in those seas bordering on Greece, to cast out fishing lines from the stern of the boat, which pass through a horn ring; but that interpretation, independent of other objections, would hardly meet the sense of the words. We think also a similar interpretation was given by Mr. Walpole to Dr. E. Clarke, and mentioned by him in his Travels in Greece, vol. ii. 56. But in turning to Odyssey, M' 255, we find the same image, but with an additional touch in the picture, which shows that the above-mentioned meaning given to the passage is erroneous; for it describes the fisher standing on a rock and angling with a rod and line. Ὡς δ ̓ ὄτἐπὶ προβόλω ἀλιεὺς περιμήκεϊ ράβδω ̓Ασπαιροντα δ ̓ ἔπειτα λαβοων ἔῤῥιχε θύραζε. : GENT. MAG. VOL. XXV. 22 From the 8th Chapter, entitled, Michael Scott-Michael's Imp-Thomas of Ercildoune-the Imp victorious-we make a short selection, though the spirit of the narrative is much impaired by our mode of treating it. "Old Michael Scott, the wizard, whose fame as a powerful magician had spread over most part of Europe, (the same alluded to as having cleft the Eildon hills in three,) was at continual feud with the holy monks of Old Melrose, and constantly playing his cantrips on them: they on their part were assiduous in using excorcisms, and such means as put Michael Scott's power in some danger; so that the wizard resolved they should not have the light of the sun during vespers, but that they should either abstain from them altogether, or be put to the expense of oil or candles. To effect this purpose, he summoned a spirit or imp, or something very like a real devil, who was subject to his bidding, and for whom he was obliged to find constant employment. Him he commanded to place a mountain to the west of the monastery, so as to intercept from it the rays of the setting sun. The imp being ingenious and strong withal, looked around him, and found his affair in the Cheviot hills. Thither he hied, and with an iron shovel, he took away at one scoop a quantity sufficient to form one of the hills, which he deposited where he was commanded, and in two more journies formed the other two hills, just as we see them now, only they were bare of verdure. In his passage a part fell out of the shovel, which is now called Ruberslaw, which slovenly slip accounts for the inequality in point of size of the Eildons. At this slip Michael was exceeding wrath, and pursued his imp towards Tweedside to punish him. The imp had a good start, and Michael lay rather out of his ground; when the evil spirit came to old Melrose, he saw a brave company of monks in the haugh, who had made a kettle of fish; * and were carousing with goodly flaggons of ale. It is said Thomas the Rhymer of Ercildoune was with them, and that the prior, who threw a long line, had been very successful with it that morning, having had good sport in the Gateheugh streams, and caught two clean fish in the Holy-wheel, now called the Thus translated by Pope: "As from some rock that overhangs the flood, Cowper's version is, "As when from some bold point among the rocks, In both versions the difficulties of the passage being altogether avoided; literally, "As a fisher standing on a projecting rock or promontory with a very long rod, casting a deceitful bait to the little fish, lets down into the sea the horn of the ox, (αγραύλοιο is epitheton perpetuum,) and then casts his gasping prey on the shore." Here, however, is no mention of the lead that passes through the horn as in the other passage. Quintus Smyrnæus in his classical poem, Παραλιπομενα, Lib. xi. 63, mentions the three kinds of fishing in use. 1. The rod and angle. 2. The net. 3. The spear, or trident; but his expressions neither here nor Lib. ix. 175, throw any light on the passage in Homer. Nor can we find any illustration for the language of Oppian. The lead indeed is often mentioned in conjunction with the net, as Μολιβδίς ὥστεδίκτυον κατέσπασεν (ν. Plutarchi Moralia, ed. Wyttenbach, i. 287) but not with the horn or line. The reader may consult Busbequius's Travels in Turkey, p. 212, for the mode of fishing which he saw when in that country.---REV. * Dressing the salmon on the spot, as soon as caught, is called "having a kettle of fish." There is an admirable drawing of this scene by C. Landseer. But why in Mr. Scrope's volume is the fair attendant damsel omitted, who forms the attraction of and gives signification to the piece? Was there a fear of scandal in such company?" Parcius ista viris tamen objicienda memento." The recumbent friar, indeed, still remains in the same attitude of solicitation, but his Juno has vanished into an "empty cloud." *Hally-wheel, a stream which he himself tabooed upon the same principle that the Italians write Rispetto' on the walls, namely, to keep off intruders. At the sight of so many pious men, the little imp seulked behind a tree, and Michael himself was taken aback, and ran cunning, making a cross cut over the peninsula, in order to come in upon the imp below; the latter being hardly pressed, made for the river, well knowing that his task-master was not only a bad boatman, but that no enchantment could subsist in a running stream. Arrived there, he formed the scoop of his shovel into an iron boat, in which he sat and launched himself, using the handle as a rudder, round which he twisted his tail, that he might steer with the greater nicety-tali auxilio. Michael, forgetting in the heat of his wrath the impotence of enchantment in a river, got into a fisherman's boat above Dryburgh, and gave chase. Now, this boat being more buoyant than the imp's iron one, he gained fast upon him, and just got hold of his tail in a long reach above Mertoun, called ever after from that event the Doup roads.' As to whether the said usual appendage to a devil was greased or not, tradition has left us in ignorance; but it eluded the grip, and the imp shot down a cauld, through so rapid a gorge, that the warlock hesitated to follow. And now a new scene presented itself, a third boat came sweeping under the scaurs in their rear and joined the chase; its crew consisted of Thomas the Rhymer, and two zealous fathers, who pursued the wizard, with bell, book, and candle; and they would have run into him a little below Craigover, but that he shot ashore, and then, being on dry land, threw up by his art a bay behind him to obstruct their passage, and thus jocky* them. But Thomas of Ercildoune, who was also a powerful magician, opened a passage on the south side of the river, and the monks only received a slight check. In the meantime Michael launched again but the devil beat them all hollow at Little-Dean Stream, which, being swift, rocky, and shallow, suited his style of navigation admirably. Now there was, and still is, a witch dwelling on the craigs near Makerstoun at the Corbies Nest, who by a deception in magic, called glamour, assumes the semblance of a crow. She was a sort of ally of Michael Scott, and flew forth, croaking her hoarsest and best upon the occasion. How far her power extended, and what she did, I never heard; but certain it is that the wizard landed, that his magic might have effect, and with or without her assistance endeavoured 'To bridle the Tweed with a curb of stone;' but his left foot insensibly touching the running stream, the work was imperfect and disunited, so that the whole volume of the river gushed through the rocks in gorges with such appalling violence, that neither he of Ercildoune or the Frati thought it prudent to follow. Michael now seeing the pursuit of his familiar was vain on the water, remained ashore, and summoned another spirit, who was subservient to him, in the shape of a coal black horse, and springing on him, said, as was his custom, Mount, Diabolus, and fly;' but he was scarcely firm in his seat, when the little devil got down to sea, where he sunk his boat and vanished to the bad place from whence he came. There is still a dangerous sand bank over the spot, where this curious iron boat is deposited; and, as the mode of dissipating shoals and blowing up sunken vessels is now well known, I trust some effort will be made, either by government or a joint stock company, to recover this valuable curiosity. Thus terminated a race singular for the skill that was displayed under embarrasing circumstances, and wonderful to the persons and powers that were en. gaged in it. 'When next these wights go forth to sail, May I be there to see.'" To Chapter ix. a couplet of Scott is affixed, "Dinna let the Sherra' ken And lo! here is the commentary: "In times when water bailiffs in Tweed had very small salaries, they themselves were by no means scrupulous about the observance of close time, but partook of the good things of a river in all seasons, lawful or unlawful. There is a man now, I believe, living at Selkirk, who in times of yore used certain little freedoms with the Tweed Act, which did not become the virtue of his office. As a water bailiff he was sworn to tell of all he saw, and, indeed, as he said, it could not be expected * This spot still goes by the name of Jocky Bay, and is a good salmon cast. |