of the fishermen, from which they have scarcely yet recovered.

Hardly a season passes without witnessing such melancholy accidents. "In my journey through Shetland (says Dr. Hibbert) I have heard too many females lamenting the loss of a husband or a son at the distant haaf. The dangers there encountered are the frequent theme of the Shetlanders' conversation, and his recital of them beguiles the tedious hours of the long winter evenings." A similar testimony is borne by Dr. Arthur Edmondston, who says,

"It is truly painful to witness the anxiety and distress which the wives of these poor men suffer on the approach of a storm. Regardless of fatigue, they leave their homes, and fly to the spot where they expect their husbands to land, or ascend the summit of a rock, and look for them on the bosom of the deep. Should they get a glimpse of a sail, they watch, with trembling solicitude, its alternate rise and disappearance on the waves; and though often tranquilised by the safe arrival of the object of their search, yet it is sometimes their lot to "bail the bark that never can return.' Subjected to the influence of a variable climate, and engaged on a sea naturally tempestuous, with rapid currents, scarcely a season passes over without the occurrence of some fatal accident or hairbreadth escape. Many of the latter, if accurately related, would unfold scenes of danger, and display instances of manly fortitude, no less true and astonishing than have been exhibited in the interesting voyage of Byron."

On coming ashore from the haaf, as soon as the boat arrives at the beach one man repairs to the hut, kindles a fire, and acts as cook, whilst the others land the fish and see them weighed; and when this is done, the fishermen have no more concern with them. They are split, salted, and dried, at the expense of their landlords or employers. Before striking their tents, they hold their "foy," as already described; after which, having nothing more to detain them; their huts are unroofed, bag and baggage are bundled into the boat, and, wafted on the wings of a favourable breeze, they hasten to enjoy the smiles of their wives and the prattle of their children. At the cod-fishing, the crew are bound to bend the rigging and sails, and

ballast the sloop before going to sea. And when the scason is over, they must unrig, and dry ropes and sails, heave the ballast, clean the vessel, and draw up and secure her for the winter. The fish livers are melted into oil, and divided between the men and the owner, who is bound, on his part, to put and keep the ship in a seaworthy state. He also cures the fish, the men paying for curing their half at the rate of two shillings per hundred weight, which is deducted when accounts are settled at the end of the campaign.

The process of curing and drying has been described by various writers,-Wilson, Edmondston, Hibbert, &c., and may be seen at any of the various stations in the islands. As a general sample, I shall give Dr. Hibbert's account of the Stennes haaf, which is conducted at Hillswick with great regularity, a bell ringing for the cessation and resuming of labour:

"When a boat comes on shore, the ling, cod, and tusk that have been taken at the haaf, are in a gutted state, and, with their heads taken off, are delivered by weight to the factor. A splitter, as he is called, cuts a fish open from the head to the tail with a large knife, and takes out half the backbone next the head; he now hands it over to the washer, who, with a heath-brush and the assistance of the sea water, clears away every particle of blood. When all the fish are in this way split and washed, they are allowed to drain; after which comes the salter, who places at the bottom of a large wooden vat a stratum of salt, and over it one of fish, with the skin side undermost, until the chest is filled with alternating layers, and above all are laid heavy stones to keep the fish under the pickle. After remaining in the vat some days they are taken out, well washed, and brushed in the direction from shoulder to tail, and put up in small heaps called clamps, in order to allow the water to drain off. The fish are next spread out with the skin side undermost, and exposed to the action of the sun, on a beach composed of round stones, when they are again clamped, and then alternately spread out, turned, and disposed into piles of a gradually increasing size, until dry. They are afterwards built into a larger stack, named a steeple; and, for the sake of equal pressure, the steeple is again taken down and rebuilt, by which means the fish that were the uppermost in one steeple are the undermost in another,

When the drying, or pining as it is called, has been completed, which is indicated by a white efflorescence appearing on the surface, called the bloom, the fish are transported to a dry cellar lined with wood, and there piled up closely, or shipped off immediately to market. A well-cured fish is said to be of a greenish white colour, and when held in the light is translucent."

The Stennes haaf, from the number of boats and men annually employed, is one of the best in the county. It is computed that between the middle of May and the 12th of August, when the ling fishery ceases, a boat makes about eighteen trips to the haaf. Most of the ling, cod, and tusk that are cured in Northmaving go to Ireland; other markets are found for them by Scottish or English merchants in Barcelona, Lisbon, Ancona, and Hamburg. The boats employed in these fishings are imported from Norway in boards, and set up in the country. They are light, and have been found by long experience to be well adapted for encountering the diversified kind of wave to which they are exposed. They vary in size from fifteen to eighteen feet of keel, according as the fishing-ground is nearer or more distant from the land. They are divided into six shares each; and if all the crew be farmers, every one has a share. The landlord and the skipper (or master) have sometimes two or more shares; and in that case, men are hired to do the duty at a rate of wages between 30s. and 31. The expense of outfit of one of these boats may be reckoned from 207. to 261. on the average.

When the long dreary nights of winter set in, the adventures of the haaf expedition supply the theme of many a wonderful narrative, and many a tale of danger recited in the simple dialect of the cottage fireside. The garrulous fisherman will tell of hurricanes, and hair-breadth 'scapes, and monsters of the deep; of boats swamped and lines broken, and tows and kappiestanes sunk to the bottom.

"We rowed oot," said a narrator of the perils he had encountered at the Feideland haaf, " till we sank a' da laigh land, and dan we began and laid fram; and when we cuist wir ooter bow, de'el a stane o' Shetland did we see, except da tap o' Roeness Hill and de Pobies o'

Unst. Noo he (the gale) beguid to gro frae de sud-east; so whan we had sitten awhile we tuik wir bow (buoy) and began to hail (haul); and, faith, before we gat in ee (one) packie o' tows, four men cood doe nae mair dan keep da tow at da kail. We gat twa ar tree fish fra dat (for all that); and at last sic a grit weight cam upo' da line, dat it tuik a mi strint to hail; and whon it cam to da wayl (gunwale), what was it bit a grit dayvel o' a skate! So I sais to Tammy, Ď hir, cut hir awa! wha's gaen to

row under hir sic a dae?' So he tuik da skuin (knife) and sneed da tombe (cut the line); and at last we got in wir tows, an', faith! we'd gotten a braw puckle o' fish. Dan I said to Gibbie, for God's sake to strike da head oot o' da drink. keg, and ouse (bale) da boat. Da watter wis up at da fasta-bands; bit, wi' God's help, we gat hir toom'd (emptied) before anither watter cam, and gat ashore aboot aught o'clock at night. Oh, man! dat wir a foul dae!"

These narratives are not always chronicles of storms and disaster. Often they afford occasions for mirth and amusement; they are turned into songs by the rustic poet, adapted to some original melody by a native musician, which, when played on the ancient two-stringed violin of the County (the gue), contribute to the hilarity of Yule, when the happy Shetlanders perform their circular dance, their steps continually changing with the tune. In days of yore these songs were known by the Norwegian name of visecks; and when the Hamburg waters had gone freely round to wash down a solid allowance of sillocks, gammon, and reeked trout, they added mettle to the dancers' heels, and gave a richer zest to the convivial table. One of these ditties is still preserved, and bears allusion to the profitable fishery for cod that was long conducted on the coast or shoals (shaalds) of Foula Island. The air is called the "Foula Reel," one of the most popular in Shetland, and the words sufficiently express the light heartedness with which the hard-earned savings of the haaf were spent to furnish the peasant's Christmas cheer:

"THE SHAALDS OF FOULA. Weel, since we are welcome to Yule,

Up wi't, Lightfoot, link it awa, boys; Send for a fiddler, play up Foula reel, We'll skip as light as a maw, boys.

Chorus.

The Shaalds of Foula will pay for a', Up wi't, Lightfoot, link it awa, boys; The Shaalds of Foula will pay for a',

The Shaalds will pay for a', boys.

The awens are amang the cows in the byre,

Up wi't, Lightfoot, link it awa, boys; Link up the pot and put on a gude fire, We'll sit till cocks do craw, boys.

The Shaalds of Foula, &c.

Now for a light and a pot of gude beer,

Up wi't, Lightfoot, link it awa, boys; We'll drink a gude fishing against the

next year,

And the Shaalds will pay for a', boys.

The Shaalds of Foula," &c.

sup

Foula, or Foughloe, as it is now called (the Fowl Island), from the vast numbers of the feathered tribes that make it a place of resort, lies westward from the mainland, at a distance of eight leagues, and is seen from the ocean towering into the sky. It presents the appearance of five hills, most of them being of a conoid form, and the highest reckoned about 1300 feet. They bear the outlandish names of the Noup, the Sneug, the Raim, the Liora Field, the Comma Field. This island has been supposed by many learned antiquaries to be the genuine Thule of the Romans; and the curious resemblance of the name, as well as the fact that it can be seen from the vicinity of Papa Westray in Orkney, give a strong probability to the position. According to Tacitus, when the Roman fleet was circumnavigating the Orkneys, Agricola descried Thule to the northward-despecta est Thule-which certainly could not be said either of Iceland or the district of Thylemark in Norway, both of which have been conjectured to be the Thule of Greek and Latin geographers. Its hills and valleys swarm with wild birds, crows, plovers, curlews, &c., and its loftiest peak is the habitation of the bonzie, or skuagull, the terror of the feathered race, for when he is present, the eagle dare not make an attack upon the lambs, on which account he was long considered a privileged bird, the act of destroying him being visited with a severe penalty. When standing on these majestic ridges, the view presented on every side is of the sublimest description. Dr. Hibbert, who ascended them, says,―

"The spectator looks down from a perpendicular height of 1100 or 1200 feet, and sees below the wide Atlantic roll its tide. Dense columns of birds hover in the air, consisting of maws, kittywakes, lyres, sea-parrots, or guillemots. The cormorants occupy the lowest portions of the cliffs, the kitty wakes whiten the ledges of one distinct cliff; gulls are found on another, and lyres on a third. The welkin is darkened with their flight; nor is the sea less covered with them as they search the waters in quest of food; but when the winter appears, the colony has fled, and the rude harmony produced by their various screams is succeeded by a desert stillness. From the brink of this awful precipice the adventurous fowler is, by means of a rope tied round his body, let down many fathoms; he then lands on the ledges, where the different sea-birds nestle, being still as regardless as his ancestors of the destruction that awaits the falling of loose stones from a crag, or the untwisting of a cord. It was formerly said of a Foula man, His gutcher (grandfather) gaed before, his father gaed before, and he must expect to go over the Sneug too.""

But I am digressing, and must wind up my rather long yarn; so revenons nous à nos poissons.

Various suggestions have been made for improving the Shetland fisheries, to some of which I have already adverted, as coming more within the province of the government or of capitalists, than of individuals in the islands. It has been recommended by those who take an interest in our marine welfare, that larger boats for the haaf should be used, with small drove-sails; that the art of swimming should be encouraged, which is rarely acquired by the fishermen; that the seaground farther towards Norway should be better explored, as its treasures would yield ample remuneration for any additional expenses; that the habits and migrations of the different fishes, especially the herring, their spawning and feedinggrounds, their periodical returns, and the most opportune seasons for their capture, should all be more minutely studied. Sufficient experiments to ascertain these points have not yet been made; nor has steam been applied to our fisheries, as it might be with great advantage; and it is an admitted fact in the annals of our national industry, that enlightened views with regard to our fisheries

have not kept pace with other objects of economical research. Dr. Lawrence Edmondston, in his General Observations on the County of Shetland, drawn up a few years ago, remarks that,

"The experience of the fishermen, the science of the naturalist, the aid of the statesman and the merchant, should all be put in requisition to explore and enlarge this fertile source of national wealth. Periodicals, in which the fisheries occupied a prominent place, would be of great use; and it is singular that the subject has been so much overlooked in this age of magazines and reviews. A great many erroneous hypotheses, leading to ignorant and pernicious practice, have too long been dominant in our knowledge of the habits and history of fish, of which the theory of the annual polar migration of the herring is an instance; and it is not to be supposed that accurate and extensive observation, and cautious inference and analogy devoted to the subject, would fail in eliciting something like scientific principles, and in establishing most interesting and valuable practical results. Of all beings, the rude fisherman is the most superstitious, and we think almost all we know of the subject

is derived from him."

These are the opinions of an intelligent observer, conversant with the question. Some of his complaints, I am happy to say, have engaged the attention of the proper authorities, with a view to their removal. The size of the boats is larger than formerly, and for better regulations of the trade, a change has been made in the "fishing year," as it is called, by altering its termination from the 5th of April to the 5th of January. For the better protection and superintendence of the crews in different localities (the east and west coasts of Scotland), two vessels, one a steamer, was last year despatched by the Lords of the Admiralty, and their guardianship was considered beneficial; although, I regret to say, we have still cause to complain of the Dutch, who encroach upon our grounds and fish within sight of our very doors. Nor have letters and science been altogether wanting in their duty. The Secretary of the Board of Fisheries, Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, has drawn up two small pamphlets, containing instructions regarding the most approved method of taking and curing cod, ling, tusk,

and hake, both in the dry manner and in pickle; and these advices have proved of material benefit both to fishermen and curers. Mr. James Wilson, the distinguished naturalist, has been engaged in making scientific investigations, for the purpose of ascertaining the distinctions that exist between the sprat and the young herring, in their natural history and habits, so as to enable the commissioners, if possible, to permit the capture of the former, whilst they may prevent the ruinous destruction of the latter. Besides these improvements, the Board have recommended the abolition or the reduction of the duty of 16s. 8d. levied on British cured herrings sent into Belgium ; a boon which would be of immense advantage to our fisheries, by permitting the exportation of that article. They have also pointed out the necessity that exists for revising the present fishery laws, and for procuring a legislative enactment to protect the broods of the different kinds of edible fish, many of which are fast diminishdestruction of the spawn and young ing in numbers on our coasts, from the fry by improper modes and unseasonable times of fishing. All attempts, however, at improvement will be useless until something is done to enlighten the ignorant and credulous fishermen themselves, who are the veriest slaves of imaginary fears, and whose code of regulations for their profession is little more than what they gather from tradition or the old song:

"The herring loves the merry moonlight, And the mackerel likes the wind," &e.

The extent to which superstition influences their minds, is scarcely conceivable. At the very time I write (August 3rd), an example of this has been making what you publishers call, I think," the round of the press.” No fewer than 400 fishermen from the west coast of Caithness, who had travelled towards the Moray Firth in quest of employment at their annual labour of herring-fishing, in order to enable them to earn as much money as will support them throughout the winter, have been deterred from engaging in their wonted occupation, and nearly frightened out of their wits, by the prediction of an old

woman foretelling that an awful storm would arise and destroy both men and boats. This silly rumour was held by those ignorant Highlanders to be sufficient warning not to jeopardise their lives; and accordingly many of them prepared to retrace their steps to the cheerless boothies they had just left. The greater part of them, it is said, returned home, whilst the more stout-hearted, believing themselves safe from the impending danger in Banff and Morayshire, wandered about the towns and villages, endeavouring to find employment by land. The old wife who has caused all this mischief was committed to prison, with a view to have her punished according to her deserts; but, in the meantime, it is estimated that on the beach at Wick nearly fifty boats have been thrown idle in consequence, involving a loss of some 50007., attributable solely to the desertion of these foolish men, who have gone back to their families to rusticate in a state of half starvation,

the victims of their own blind delusion.

Surely here is work for the clergyman and the schoolmaster, scope for the philanthropist and the philosopher, the bookseller and the magazine-writer. If REGINA will allow me in another Number to give a chapter on our superstitions, I flatter myself I could turn her pages to good account in disclosing some of the absurd beliefs, the strange whims and caprices, and the dark influences exercised by invisible and supernatural powers over the minds of my countrymen. She is among the few periodicals, if she does not stand alone, in directing public attention to our fisheries; and if she will also lend herself to be the instrument of dispelling the thick mists of superstition that obscure our intellectual firmament, denser than the fogs of the Atlantic, I shall congratulate myself as the authors of the last century used to say in their prefaces, "that my labours have not been in vain."

On entering Bohemia from Saxony, the traveller is struck with the total difference in the character of the scenery, buildings, and people. The two countries could scarcely be more opposite were they antipodes, instead of bordering as they do on each other, and having constant inter

course.

In Bohemia an Eastern influence seems to have been exercised over every thing, betraying the Sclavonic origin of the inhabitants; and when Prague, with its many towers (some of Byzantine character) and its numerous palaces, meets the eye, you are tempted to forget that you are in the Germanic land. Some people, in the course of their wanderings, find a favoured spot, a pet city, which seems to fulfil their expectations, perhaps where least expected; I must confess I had this feeling with regard to Prague; and when I first landed where the Moldau enters the Elbe, and passed through the country a four hours' drive to Prague, I felt a

sense of almost childish happiness return to me it seemed as if nothing I saw was new or strange, but only like some pleasant scene of childhood come back, or like the realisation of a delightful vision.

We visited the city for the first time, during the Feast of St. Nepomuk. This saint has largely shared the glories of the holy Wenzel, who is the elder and genuine national saint. In May, spring has set in, and on the 9th of the month a galaday is kept; it being the custom for all the nobility of Prague to drive in newly-built or newly-adorned carriages in the Baumgarten. On the 16th is the Festival of St. John Nepomuk, and for a week preceding all the city is preparing for it: tem'porary altars are erected for the accommodation of the people, and all the statues of the saints are adorned with branches, lamps, garlands, &c. But the spot on which the greatest pains are bestowed is, where his bronze statue stands on the old bridge,