On the extent to which this vast field could be ploughed and sown, these operations being performed by the fish themselves, the value of our national inland fisheries must depend.

The annual returns of silver salmon would vary each year in degree of production, somewhat like those of golden corn, according to whether the autumn had been wet or dry, and thus had either promoted or prevented the access of the fish to the upper grounds. As the salmon sows, so must the fisherman reap, the produce being in proportion to the ground seeded. From this broad point of view, we perceive the chief desideratum, viz. to admit to the spawning regions the greatest quantity of fish that can find room there.

Whatever may be the fair claims of proprietors of land on inland streams to their piscatory produce, it is obvious that these rivulets are, like the roots of a tree, the true sources of supply to the river fishery, and that it is here, and here only, that this species of property is susceptible of improvement. It is therefore of primary importance to induce this inland party to attend to the protection of the breeding fish, by giving them a reasonable share in the produce; and this would be done by interdicting the fish from being taken below in excessive quantities. Various provisions are needed to insure sufficient restriction-such as an early close season; limitations to the size of meshes of nets, and to the use of fixed engines near the mouths of rivers; and better methods of conservation.

By the act just passed, the close season for England and Wales is conterminous with that of the general Scottish and Irish season, viz., from the 1st of September to the 1st of February. In our opinion, formed after protracted investigation of this vexed scientific question, this term protracts fishing by nets. at least a fortnight too long to suit most rivers; and we conceive that, were the Irish district system adopted, it is possible to frame a law that would enable special rivers to have the advantage of their particular profitable seasons with

In

out detriment to the principle of general uniformity. With regard to the weekly close-time, almost every expert in salmonfishing, and, certainly every votary of rod and line, will concur in applauding the clause in the new statute, which provides a long weekly slap-by of between noon on Saturday, and six on Monday morning. For better methods of conservation, the system in use in the sister island is superior to any practice in Scotland, and to the almost entire absence of protective organization in England. 1859, the licence duties paid there as a tax on fishing implements, to supply a fund to pay water-keepers, amounted to 5,0887. 12s. 6d.; and last year to 5,2871. 9s. 6d. This yearly revenue, though inadequate for complete preservation, is accomplishing much; and, on the entire points of conservation and legislation, we trust that the appointment of inspectors of English fisheries, under the new act, will result in centralization of control, and in extension of the best points of old and new laws to the entire range of the national sea and inland fisheries. Taking no exaggerated view of the probable extent of these resources, and allowing that it is only in the remote rivers of this country-as in the Lake district, Wales, and Devonshire-that any notable improvement in salmon-fishing can be expected, we have chiefly held in view the possible productiveness of the Scotch and Irish fishings, which are of great value, and are capable of immense augmentation. To bring about this desideratum, what is wanted is a law, judicious and comprehensive, calculated to spare young, undersized salmon-to permit an adequate number of breeding-fish to pass up to propagate their species-and to suffer the sick and unwholesome to return to their invigorating pastures in the sea. Towards these ends, the Act of the present session is a good step in advance; and we therefore hail it as a measure likely to lead to others that may, some day, give every man of the million a slice of salmon for his Sunday's dinner.

SIR,-I understand you to desire that I should furnish you with such observations as I can on the life and character of my cousin, Herbert Coleridge. My opportunities of forming any judgment of his powers were not great until towards the close of his life; and my total ignorance of many branches of knowledge with which he was familiar renders any judgment which I may form exceedingly imperfect. Yet hearty respect and affection make me anxious to record, however feebly, the remarkable career of a character very uncommon. Some amount of partiality, no doubt, will be found in the estimate of one bound to Herbert Coleridge by the ties of warm friendship as well as of close family connexion; at the same time I think that all who knew him best will agree that only by persons standing in some such intimate relations with him could he be justly estimated.

Herbert Coleridge was born in 1830, and died in April in the present year, 1861, in his 31st year. His father, Henry Nelson Coleridge, was a very distinguished young man both at Eton and Cambridge, where he gained various University prizes; the distinctions of the Senate House being at that time inaccessible to the scholars and fellows of King's College, the college to which he had gone from Eton. He was known in after-life as the writer of "Six Months in the West Indies," a book which may still be read with interest and advantage, for its picturesque style, and for the good sense and ability of its general views. He wrote also an "Introduction to the Study of Homer," the first of an intended series of introductions to the study of the classical writers, which, from various causes, were never farther proceeded with. The eloquence and genial spirit of the book on Homer rendered it, when I was a schoolboy, a favourite both with boys and masters; and, although it

HEATH'S COURT, OTTERY ST. MARY,
September 7, 1861.

pretends to be nothing more than an introduction, its learning, scholarship, and taste make it a book well worth reading, even in these days of more voluminous and exhaustive dissertation. Henry Coleridge was called to the bar, and practised exclusively in the Court of Chancery, where he had attained a considerable position and a good practice when he died young in 1843. His success in the law was no doubt retarded for a while by his known fondness for literature and his devotion to the works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, his uncle, whose daughter he married. He edited almost all his uncle's works with great care; and by the publication of his "Table Talk," and of four volumes of his literary remains, the compilation and editing of which books were works of great labour and difficulty, he very materially contributed to the present reputation which S. T. Coleridge enjoys. Unless the partiality of a nephew strangely deceives me, the father of Herbert Coleridge was a person whose intellectual and social qualities were of the highest order. He was, I think, the most delightful companion I ever knew; and his brilliant and instructive talk was poured forth as readily, and with as much evident enjoyment, to a single companion, or to a few intimate friends, as in larger parties or mixed society. I must not farther indulge my recollections; but I am sure that to his father Herbert Coleridge was indebted for much of his quickness of mind and strength of judgment.

Of his mother, Sara Coleridge, it is very difficult for me to speak, for I knew her from my earliest childhood, and think of her now with the warmest affection. It is not, however, I am sure, gratitude and affection only which leads me to say that she was an extraordinary woman. In scholarship, and in wide and varied learning, she was a match for scholars and learned men. Her theo

logical essay appended to the "Aids to Reflection;" her fairy tale of "Phantasmion;" her translation of "Dobrizhoffer's History of the Abipones ;" and of "The Loyal Servant's Life of Bayard," give proof of a power of English composition at once vigorous and various. The lovely little poems interspersed throughout "Phantasmion," and her book of childish rhymes called "Pretty Lessons," ought to keep her name alive as an English poetess. And, when to these endowments there is added great power of conversation and remarkable personal beauty, it is easy to understand the striking impression she made on the society wherein her lot was cast. Those, however, who only saw her in society could not know how tender and feminine a nature lay under that bright and attractive exterior. Devoted to her husband and her children, full of warm family affection and the gentlest consideration for those whose interests and endowments were utterly unlike and inferior to her own, I can truly say of her that, as I have never myself known any woman of learning and genius equal to hers, so I have very seldom known any one of a character in all things more noble or more beautiful.

Herbert Coleridge lost his father when he was at school, his mother when he was at Oxford; but the impression made by them upon his character and temper was deep and lasting. Most men, no doubt, are in most things what their parents and early teachers make them; and Herbert Coleridge was no exception to this general rule. He had a great power of rapid and accurate apprehension, and a very strong memory. And thus, as a boy at school and as a young man at college, he surprised his contemporaries by the vigorous grasp with which he held an amount of classical and other learning altogether unusual in one so young. He won the Newcastle Scholarship, and the other lesser prizes of classical accomplishment at Eton, at a very early age; while in modern languages and in such mathematics as Eton teaches he was equally successful. I had left Eton

before he went there; but I can believe what I have heard, that in some respects the place was unsuited to him. Except swimming, he was neither fond of nor expert at those athletic exercises which, whether or not they justify (as we have been desired by authority to believe they do) the extravagant expenses of an Eton education, were certainly in my time a very main part of the education we received there, and no doubt cannot in general be neglected without much real injury to the boy, both mind and body, and inevitable loss of his popularity with his schoolfellows. Extreme devotion to the ordinary studies of the place, together with the pursuit of studies less ordinary, such as mathematics and modern languages, including even Icelandic; a somewhat undisguised contempt for what was not literary; a manner at that time a little hurried and awkward; a phraseology a little over-learned; a disposition a little over-shy; and a temper a little over-confident; make up a whole which those who know Eton as I know it will have no difficulty in believingwould not, at Eton, find a very genial, perhaps not a very just appreciation. He was not, however, without warm and steady friends amongst the most distinguished of his contemporaries, and he joined with them in the composition of the Eton School Magazine; of the literary merits of which periodical in general, or of Herbert Coleridge's contributions to it in particular, I must confess I know nothing.

He left Eton in 1848, and went to Balliol, of which College he had been elected Scholar in 1847. Oxford was a place much more congenial to him in every way than Eton had been; I think he was happier there, and he much oftener spoke of his residence there with pleasure. I had left the University four years before he entered it, and I cannot, therefore, speak of his course there from any personal knowledge. But I do know that he was appreciated, and formed there many friendships which lasted with his life. The University and the College acted most favourably upon his character. It would have been strange

if they had not. What intelligent Oxford man would barter for any earthly consideration the influence of that most reverend place upon himself? And the Scholars' table at Balliol must have altogether changed from what it was when I was a Scholar, if the discipline there administered to any personal conceit, vanity, or school prejudice a young man might have, was not about the best corrective they could receive.

Herbert Coleridge was placed in both first classes, in the spring of 1852. He never actually graduated at Oxford; which has been attributed, in a generally goodnatured notice of him published in the Atlas newspaper of 25th May, 1861, to "his usual eccentricity." As matter of opinion, I have known few persons to whom the term eccentric would have been less applicable. And as matter of fact, he took no degree simply because he could not conveniently afford it. He had inherited a small independent fortune, which, by the rules of the University of Oxford, made him what is there called a Grand Compounder, and would have raised the fees on his Bachelor's degree up to something near 1007. This was a larger sum than at the time he could conveniently spare from his income. But he very much regretted his inability to comply with the regulations of the University, utterly unreasonable as they appear; he maintained his connexion with it by keeping his name upon the books of his College; he interested himself keenly in all University questions; and I know intended, if God had spared his life, and he could prudently have found the money, to take his degree, and acquire the right of voting in the Oxford Convocation. The well-informed writer in the Atlas, whoever he may be, will forgive, I am sure, my correcting almost the only mistake of fact I have been able to detect in his notice of my cousin's character.

1 I do not know if it is still the practice of the University; but in my time I believe the son of a man with 100,000l. a year could take his degree for almost a quarter of the sum which it cost a man who happened to have 350l. a year of his own.

When he left Oxford, he chose the Law for his profession, and flung himself into the study of it with his habitual energy. He obtained a certificate of honour in 1853, and in 1854 he was called to the bar by Lincoln's Inn. He chose the Court of Chancery, and more especially conveyancing, as the field for his practice. My own practice, lying chiefly in the Courts of Common Law, very seldom gave me the means of testing the extent and character of my cousin's legal knowledge. More than once, however, the opportunity did occur; and, so far as I can form an opinion, I entirely agree with that formed and expressed by others who saw more of him as a lawyer, and are far better qualified to pronounce a judgment; that he was a very sound and accurate lawyer, and an excellent conveyancer. That, if his health had permitted it, he would have had great success at the bar, I do not doubt. While his health lasted, he had that moderate success which is all which the Law generally accords for many years to her most devoted followers. But, as was not unnatural in a somewhat over-confident man, he was a little unreasonably discouraged because success did not come to him so rapidly as he had hoped, perhaps had expected, that it would.

Meanwhile he turned his attention to philology, a subject in which he had always taken great interest, and in which his large knowledge of languages, his accurate and rapid reading, and his powerful memory fitted him to excel. The facts connected with his philological labours cannot be better stated than in the words of the writer in the Atlas before referred to; and, as many of them are not within my own knowledge, I will extract a paragraph from his notice.

"In November, 1857, he heard the "Dean of Westminster read before the Philological Society (of which he was

an active member) papers 'On the De"ficiencies in our English Dictionaries,' " and he was induced to read Sylvester's "Du Bartas' for words omitted by "Richardson and Johnson. His list in

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Dictionary. His. papers read before "the Philological Society were 'On the "Scandinavian Elements in the English "Language' (exploding Mr. Thomas "Wright's assertion that there were no "Danish words in our language); 'On "the verb Ploro and its Compounds;' "On the word Culorum;' On the "Exclusion of several Words from a "Dictionary; and A Report of some "Hard Words and Passages in Early English Writers'-besides two papers, we believe, in Macmillan's Magazine, one being a review of Mr. Hensleigh "Wedgwood's English Etymology. The 66 progress made in the Philological

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Society's dictionary is stated by him "in a letter to Dean Trench, dated May "3d, 1860, published in the appendix "to the second edition of the Dean's "Essays on the Deficiencies in our Dic"tionaries. Before his death he ob"tained from his friend and colleague, "Mr. Furnivall, a promise that he would "fill his place as editor, so that the "work he so desired to complete might "not fall to the ground."

Of the extent and value of his services to philology, and especially to the projected English dictionary, I am not competent to speak; but I have been told by those who are competent, that they were of great value, and showed a

very high capacity for such studies. To the energy and enthusiasm with which he devoted himself to them, I can bear witness. He was always at work, to the serious injury, as I could not but think, of his bodily health. When not at his chamber she was working hard at home; and, even during the short vacation he allowed himself, and when away from London, books were always with him, and his mind and his pen were always labouring. A small drawing-room he turned into a literary workshop; and there, with the floor, the chairs, and the tables covered with books, a large deal frame by his side with its multitude of compartments filled full of extracts, he went on working long after he was a dying man, in such intervals as his determined energy won from the progress of a wasting disease, and as long as his failing frame could be propped up by pillows and his fingers had strength to hold a pen.

In the last eighteen months of his life, when he knew that he was dying, he began and made considerable progress in the study of Sanscrit. A book given him by the Dean of Westminster, but four days before his death, had been read nearly through by him, and contained many careful notes in his handwriting. On his writing table, when he died, was an unfinished review of Dr. Dasent's "Story of Burnt Njal," which he had been writing less than a week before he died. I was with him twelve hours before his death; and not only were his interests as keen, his affections as warm, and his mind as clear as I ever saw them, but he had actually done some literary work only a few minutes before my visit. Consumption, which had brought his frame almost to dissolution, had had no power upon the energies of his mind.

I think it was in 1857 that, in common with others who loved him, I became aware that his lungs were affected. He struggled gallantly with his disease; and in 1858, after a bad hæmorrhage, and with a confirmed cough, in hope of benefiting himself by a few weeks of perfect rest and amusement, he went the