Chapter 2

_Pod-netting_.--This derives its name from the habitation of the trouts (the banks of the "becks") which are called "hods" or "holds" and more frequently "pods," and this net therefore goes by these three names. I have before described to you the situation generally of these "_holds_" to be either in the ledge of some rock or stone in the water, or under some bank reaching over the stream. This net is used in fine weather, and when the water is "_clear as crystal_;" the fisherman takes hold of the handles of the net,[4] and wades through the stream as gently as possible, placing the net just at the side of a trout's "hold," taking care to keep it as close to the bottom as possible, to afford the trout no room for escape. Then another with a long pole drives the trouts from the mouth of the "_hold_," when they immediately dart into the net, and nothing remains but to draw the net quickly up. This is a famous method of fishing. I have been with parties when we have completely cleared the beck. We went to "Carmony" in the spring of 1825, and caught an immense quantity by fishing with the hand and pod. This brings to my recollection an amusing circumstance, which I intend troubling you with, though you may think it unworthy of notice. It was reported in that year that there was a large quantity of trouts in the beck; and I went at the recommendation of those who had seen a particularly large one (when passing by) "basking" in the streams. I was referred to a _certain_ "_lum_," and thither I went one afternoon with two friends, to try if we could have an opportunity of seeing him. We had scarcely reached the spot when we perceived him lying at the mouth of his "_hold_," a fine grassy bank at the side of which grew a small bush; and I employed my friends to watch the trout should he escape me. I crossed the brook (my friends remaining on the opposite side), pulled off my coat and waistcoat, and tucked up my shirt ready for action. He was still lying very quietly, and as I knew I had no chance with him then, I touched him gently with a twig and he moved into his habitation. I then leaned over the bank, thrust in my arm, touched his back, I felt his size, and was all caution. So first I began to secure him by building a piece of wall before the bank to prevent his going out; but I had no sooner laid the first stone than out he bounced, and darted down the river about twenty yards, (we running after him all the while) then up again, and so on for about a quarter of an hour, till at length he became tired and waddled into his dwelling. I now thought all secure, and once more put in my hand, when he jumped at least three or four yards out of the water. I must confess, I was a little confused with my friends' dictation, who feared I should lose him. Again housed, I made a kind of fort at one end of the hold, and this done, I again thrust in my arm, when he was as soon out again, and on getting up I found my hand covered with blood. Still he came back to his favourite place, and I tried again, after giving my friends caution to be on the look out. This time I was successful, I put my hand gently under his belly, and by a tickle, secured the rascal, by thrusting the fore-finger and thumb of my right hand in his gills. I got him on to land, my friends ran about in exstacy, and I think I never saw a finer trout than he proved to be--real Eden. We gave a shout of triumph, after which we cut him on the nose to kill him. From tail to snout he measured one foot four inches; but he was beautifully plump and thick-made. We now began to wonder what caused the blood on my hand, when on examination, we found a large night hook in his side, which no doubt I had touched, and had thus given him pain, and made him restless. I will not prolong the story, but tell you he weighed about two pounds and a half, and was acknowledged to be the plumpest trout ever caught in that county by the hand.[5] Shortly afterwards I caught the partner to it in the same place, but it was not so fine a trout, and I had not so much effort in catching it. The largest trout ever caught in this county weighed four pounds and a half, but that was taken with the net. I have no other recommendation for this paper but its originality. I have enjoyed the sport, and can only half convey a description of it upon paper.

W.H.H.

[4] This net is made differently from the other, there being no frame to it and having two handles.

[5] The reader must consider the difficulty of holding a large fish with the hand.

* * * * *

THE ROSE.

(_For the Mirror._)

Mark, Laura, dearest, yonder rose Its inner folds are sad and pale, love; While blushing, outward leaves disclose A lively crimson to the gale, love.

Yet as the secret canker-worm Preys deeply on its drooping heart, love, Soon from the flow'ret's with'ring form Will all that vivid glow depart, love.

Then turn to me those beaming eyes-- A blooming cheek although you see, love, Since hope is fled, then pleasure dies, And read the rose's fate in me, love.

* * * * *

OLD WINE.

(_For the Mirror._)

The passion for old wines has sometimes been carried to a very ridiculous excess, for the "_thick crust_," the "_bee's wing_," and the several other criterions of the epicure, are but so many proofs of the decomposition and departure of some of the best qualities of the wine. Had the man that first filled the celebrated Heidleburg tun been placed as sentinel, to see that no other wine was put into it, he would have found it much better at twenty-five or thirty years old, than at one hundred, had he lived so long, and been permitted now and then to taste it.

At Bremen there is a wine-cellar, called the Store, where five hogsheads of Rhenish wine have been preserved since 1625. These five hogsheads cost 1,200 francs. Had this sum been put out to compound interest, each hogshead would now be worth above a thousand millions of money, a bottle of this precious wine would cost 21,799,480 francs, or about 908,311_l._, and a single wine-glass 2,723,808 francs, or about 113,492_l._.

J.L.S.

* * * * *

THE HEROINE.

A SKETCH FROM SUNDRY NOVELS.

(_For the Mirror._)

She must be, _à plaisir_, tall and slender in person, or of humbler stature, but never inclining to stoutness, since the _en bon point_ savours (at least in romance) of vulgarity. Her complexion may be light or dark, according to fancy; but her interesting pallidness may occasionally be relieved by a hectic flush, yet more interesting. She must possess small _alabaster_ hands, _coral_ or _ruby_ lips, enchasing a double row of _pearls_; a neck rivalling _ivory_ or driven _snow_, (yes, even if our heroine be a brunette, for incongruity is the very essence of romance); _velvet_ cheeks, _golden_ or _jet_ black hair, _diamond_ eyes, marvellous delicate feet, shrouded at all times in _bas-de-soie_, and defended by the most enchanting slippers imaginable; her figure must be a model for the statuary, and at all seasons, and in every situation, arrayed in muslins or silks, which, wondrous to relate, resist the injuries of time, weather, and wear in a manner perfectly astounding. What heroine had ever an hiatus in her stocking, or a fracture in her gown of finest woof? Ye gods! what an insult to suppose her _repairing such_! The lady's mental accomplishments and qualifications are as follow:--She sings divinely, plays on the harp (and piano too in modern days) _à merveille_; occasionally condescends to fascinate on the guitar, and the lute also, should that instrument, now rather antiquated, fall in her way. She takes portraits, and sketches from nature; she understands _all_ languages, or rather that desideratum, an _universal tongue_, since in the most foreign lands she is never at a loss to render herself understood, nor to comprehend that which is addressed to her; she is of a melancholy cast of mind, and carries sal-volatile in her reticule, and fountains of tears in her eyes, for use on the most _public_ occasions; she likes gloomy apartments, looking upon the sea, mountains, or black forests, and leading into endless corridors; she has an Æolian lyre ever at her casement, writes verses and weeps by moonlight, for--effect, or-- _nothing_; and is enamoured with a being, who, in the common course of nature, could not exist; he possessing, amongst other fine qualities, that of omnipresence in an impious degree. Should the heroine reside in a town, and especially London, she must have dwelt previously in some isolated mansion, seldom visited by beings superior in intellect to the foxes they hunt; an idiot mother, vulgar aunt, a father, an uncle, or a guardian in his dotage, must have superintended her education; and when, at the age of sixteen, some fortunate chance throws her into society, her accomplishments and manners are found more fitting for it and finished, than those of persons who have from their cradles associated with families of the highest distinction, and possessed all the advantages of a polished and liberal education. The heroine has, in all situations, an abundant store of money, jewels, and clothes, supplied no one knows when, how, or by whom; and these, with her musical instruments, drawing materials, &c. accompany her into every reverse of situation, in a manner perfectly incomprehensible, but highly amusing and edifying. A miniature portrait of some mysterious relative or friend, seldom or ever seen, nay, indeed, a sacred memento of the dead, is highly scenic and effective in a romance. The heroine ought, by all means, to possess such; it _may_ do good, and it _can_ do no harm. Finally, the lady must frequently faint, be twice or thrice on the brink of the grave, undergo exquisite varieties of suffering, run all hazards, but retain her beauty and reputation unblemished to the _last_, i.e. to her _marriage_; after which, this wondrous and superlative creature, and her partner in perfection, are never heard of more. _Why_?

M.L.B.

* * * * *

ANCIENT ROMAN FESTIVALS.

SEPTEMBER.

The _Septmontium_ was a festival of the seven mountains of Rome, which was celebrated in this month, near the seven mountains, within the walls of the city; they sacrificed seven times in seven different places; and on that day the emperors were very liberal to the people.

The _Meditrinalia_ were feasts instituted in honour of the goddess _Meditrina_, and celebrated on the 13th of September. They were so called from _medendo_, because the Romans then began to drink new wine, which they mixed with old, and _that_ served them instead of physic.

P.T.W.

* * * * *

NOTES OF A READER.

THE ANNUALS FOR 1829.

These elegant little works are already in a forward state. MR. ALARIC WATTS announces the plates of the SOUVENIR, "of a more important size than heretofore," and twelve in number, already completed. Among them are _Cleopatra embarking on the Cydnus_, drawn by Danby, and engraved by Goodall; _Love taught by the Graces_, drawn by Hilton, and engraved by J.C. Edwards; a beautiful scene from _Lalla Rookh_, drawn by Stephanoff, and engraved by Bacon; _She never told her Love_, drawn by Westall, and engraved by Rolls. Whilst Mr. Watts has been catering for the "children of a larger growth," Mrs. W. has been preparing a "New Year's Gift; or _Juvenile_ Souvenir", to be accompanied with exquisite illustrations of Nursery literature; as the Children in the Wood, Red Riding Hood, &c. with two historical subjects after Northcote.

Mr. Ackermann, to whom we are indebted for the _naturalization_ of "Annuals", announces that one of his plates in the forthcoming "FORGET ME NOT"--(4 inches by 3 in dimension) has cost one hundred guineas! The subject is "the Ruined City," by Martin, engraved by Le Keux. Fine engraving is thus almost as dear as building-ground at Brighton.

The KEEPSAKE will appear much earlier than last year. Sir Walter Scott has written three or four articles, and two or three "noble lords" are among the contributors. Nothing can exceed the beauty of the specimens of the illustrations.

The FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING passes into the editorial hands of Mr. T. Pringle, of whose poetical talents we have lately had some exquisite specimens.

The ANNIVERSARY.--Allan Cunningham has joined Mr. Sharp (of whose taste in "getting up" books, our readers must be aware) in a splendid volume to be called "The Anniversary." Among the engravings are _Psyche_, after Sir Thomas Lawrence; _Young Cottagers_, after Gainsborough; the _Author of Waverley in his Study_, after W. Allen; a _Monkey_, &c. by Landseer. This is a new adventure, and we wish its projectors many _anniversaries_.

The CHRISTMAS BOX is to contain "A Story," from the pen of Miss Edgworth. Mrs. Hofland, Miss Mitford, and Mrs. Hemans, likewise, contribute their pleasing aid.

The PLEDGE OF FRIENDSHIP is to be altered to _The Gem_, to be edited by Mr. T. Hood, whose wit and fancy will sparkle among the contributions; and who hopes that it may prove one of those "hardy annuals," which are to become perennials; the writers are to be of "_authorized_ popularity"--"the _plates_ not of the common _dessert_ kind, but a welcome _service_"--the engravers "as true as steel" to their originals--and the whole equally "mental" and "ornamental:" so the wight has begun already.

The WINTER'S WREATH promises to bloom more vigorously than ever, and earlier too--in September. Among the contributors are the names of Hemans, Opie, Mitford, Montgomery, Wiffen, Delta, &c.

The AMULET is to be edited, as last year, by Mr. Hall.

The BIJOU is printing with _two-fold_ energy.

We read the other day that Schiller's "History of the German War," was originally published in _Damen Almanach_--a Lady's Almanack! This is real _azure_. "Annuals" do not, however, progress on the continent; for a new one, lately published contained but a single original contribution. In America they have bloomed with some success, though not with the elegance and polish of our own country. Here their effect on the Fine Arts has been very important, and they have done much for light reading, every name of literary eminence, except those of Moore, Campbell, and Rogers, having been enlisted in their ranks. We do not, however, remember Leigh Hunt, although his pleasantries would relieve the plaintiveness of some of the poetical contributions. A few _Shandean_ articles would be very agreeable--something like the Housekeepers in the last "Friendships' Offering."

Nothing is said of the "Literary Pocket Book;" but our old friend, "Time's Telescope," will be mounted as usual.

We also take this opportunity to state that the "ARCANA OF SCIENCE AND ART, FOR 1829," will appear towards the close of the present year; and, we are enabled to promise its patrons a still greater modicum of novelty and interest than was even comprised in its very successful forerunner.

* * * * *

MARTYRDOM.

There is no truth more abundantly exemplified in the history of mankind, than that the blood of martyrs, spilt in whatever cause, political or religious, is the best imaginable seed for the growth of favour towards their persons, and, as far as conversion depends on feeling, of conversion to their opinions. "_Quoites mori emur toties nasciemur_."--_Edin. Rev._

* * * * *

ENGLISH LIBERTY.

Our liberty is neither Greek nor Roman; but essentially English. It has a character of its own,--a character which has taken a tinge from the sentiments of the chivalrous ages, and which accords with the peculiarities of our manners, and of our insular situation. It has a language, too, of its own, and a language too singularly idiomatic, full of meaning to ourselves, scarcely intelligible to strangers.--_Ibid._

* * * * *

SENSUALITY.

How different is the night of Nature from that of man, and the repose of her scenes from the misrule of his sensual haunts; what a contrast between the refreshing return of her morning, and the feverish agonies of his day-dreams.--_Cameleon Sketches._

* * * * *

THE FLIMSY AGE.

Poets sing of the "golden age," the "silver age," and the "iron age," but were they to celebrate this, I think they should call it the flimsy age, for every thing seems made to suit a temporary purpose, without any regard to the sound and substantial. From printed calico to printed books, from Kean's acting to Nash's architecture, all is made to catch the eye, to gratify the appetite for novelty, without regard to real and substantial excellence.--_Blackwood_.

* * * * *

VILLAGE CHURCHES.

We find very few monasteries founded after the twelfth century; the great majority, which rose through the kingdom "like exhalations," were founded between the eleventh and twelfth centuries; and in all county histories and authentic records, we scarce find a parish church, with the name of its resident rector recorded, before the twelfth century. The first notice of any village church occurs in the Saxon Chronicle, after the death of the conqueror, A.D. 1087. They are called, there, "upland churches." "Then the king did as his father bade him ere he was dead; he then distributed treasures for his father's soul to each monastery that was in England; to some ten marks of gold, to some six; to each _upland_ church sixty pence."--Ingram's Saxon Chronicle. Gibson's note on the passage is, "unicuique ecclesiae rurali." These rare rural churches, after the want of them was felt, and after the lords of manors built, endowed, and presented to them, spread so rapidly, that in 1200 in almost every remote parish there was an "upland church," if not a resident minister, as at this day.

The convents, however, still remained in their pristine magnificence, though declining in purity of morals and in public estimation. In place of new foundations of this august description, the--

"Village parson's modest mansion rose,"

gracefully shewing its unostentatious front, and, at length, humbly adorning almost all the scattered villages of the land.--_Bowles's History of Bremhill._

* * * * *

It was pleasantly observed by a sentimental jockey, who lost by a considerable length the first race he ever rode, "I'll never ride another race as long as I live. The riders are the most selfish, narrow minded creatures on the face of the earth. They kept riding and galloping as fast as they could, and never had once the kindness or civility to stop for me."--_Penelope_.

* * * * *

IRELAND.

It has lately been proved by indisputable evidence, that the present condition of the peasantry of Ireland is much superior, to that of the population of the same island some centuries ago, when the number of people did not exceed one million. Spenser describes them as inhabiting "sties rather than houses, which is the chiefest cause of the farmer's so beastly manner of living and savage condition, lying and living together with his beast, in one house, in one room, in one bed, that is clean straw, or rather a foul dunghill."

In 1712, Dobbs, a man particularly conversant with the general condition of Ireland, estimated that its population had increased 200,000. He states that "the common people are very poorly clothed, go barelegged half the year, and very rarely taste of that flesh meat with which we so much abound, but are pinched in every article of life."

In 1762, Sir William Petty computed that the inhabitants of Ireland amounted to about one million three hundred thousand. Their habitations, he says, "are lamentable wretched cabins, such as themselves could make in three or four days, not worth five shillings the building, and filthy and disgusting to a degree, which renders it necessary for us to refrain from quoting his description. Out of the 200,000 houses of Ireland," says he, "160,000 are wretched cabins, without chimney, window, or door shut, even worse than those of the savages of America." Their food at the same period, consisted "of cakes, whereof a penny serves for each a week; potatoes from August till May; mussels, cockles, and oysters, near the sea; eggs and butter made very rancid by keeping in bogs; as for flesh they seldom eat it; they can content themselves with potatoes."

* * * * *

SELF KNOWLEDGE.

We often hear people call _themselves_ fools. Now a man ought to know whether he is a fool or not, and he would not say it if he did not believe it; and there is also a degree of wisdom in the discovery that one has been a fool, for thereby it is intimated that the season of folly is over. Whosoever therefore actually says that he was a fool formerly, virtually says that he is not a fool now.--_Penelope_.

* * * * *

THE MAIDEN'S CHOICE.

Genteel in personage, Conduct and equipage, Noble by heritage, Generous and free; Brave, not romantic, Learn'd, not pedantic, Frolic, not frantic, This must he be.

Honour maintaining, Meanness disdaining. Still entertaining, Engaging and new: Neat, but not finical, Sage, but not cynical, Never tyrannical, But ever true.

_Old MS_.

* * * * *

CUNNING.

In England, no class possesses so much of that peculiar ability which is required for constructing ingenious schemes, and for obviating remote difficulties, as the thieves and the thief-takers. Women have more of this dexterity than men. Lawyers have more of it than statesmen; statesmen have more of it than philosophers.

* * * * *

STORY-TELLING.

A friend of mine has one, and only one, good story, respecting a gun, which he contrives to introduce upon all occasions, by the following simple, but ingenious device. Whether the company in which he is placed be numerous or select, addicted to strong potations, or to long and surprising narratives; whatever may happen to be the complexion of their character or conversation, let but a convenient pause ensue, and my friend immediately hears, or pretends to hear, the report of a gun. Every body listens, and recalls his late impressions, upon which "the story of a gun" is naturally, and as if by a casual association, introduced thus--"By the by, speaking of guns, that puts me in mind of a story about a gun;" and so the gun is fixed in regular style, and the company condemned to smell powder for twenty minutes to come! To the telling of this gun story, it is not, you see, at all necessary that there should be an actual explosion and report; it is sufficient that there _might_ have been something of the kind.

* * * * *

PLEASURES OF TRAVELLING.

Dover quite full--horrible place! Shocking, the inns! Amphibious wretches, the population. Ashore (from steam-packet) at four in the morning. Fires out at The Ship. No beds! Think of it! Had to wait till a party got up--going off at six. Six came--changed their minds (lazy!) wouldn't go! Woke the whole house with ringing the bells, however--took care they shouldn't sleep. Filthy breakfast! Bad butter--vile chops-- eggs! I never got an egg properly boiled in my life! Royal Society ought to give a premium. Set off, starved and shuddering--roads heavy--four horses. Ruined with the expense. Man wanted to take half. Fat--looked greasy. Thought ruin best. Got up to Pagliano's a petrifaction! Worthy creature, the cook! Tossed me up such a "_Saumon, Tartare_"--"_Vol au vent_"--"Maccaroni"--all light. Coffee--_liqueur_--no wine for fear of fever--went to bed quite thawed in body and mind; and walked round Leicester-square next morning like "a giant refreshed!"--_Blackwood_.

* * * * *

A woman's true dowry is virtue, modesty, and desires restrained; not that which is usually so called.

* * * * *

DOMESDAY.