however, is past, mentioned by the poet, when,

"Piscium et summa genus hæret ulmo, Nota quæ sedes fuerat columbis."

The law of gravitation acting in concert with fishing management, has now brought him down again from his aerial ascent, and he plunges, and rolls, and twists, and curvets away in one spot, till he makes the water boil over, and on all sides of him. He seems at this instant as if he had already yielded up the contest, and were playing away in all the passivity of culinary usefulness, like a sheep-head in some seathing cauldron; still, however, he scorns to be overcome by mere brutal force, and he tries at once your skill, your tackle, and your patience, by many sudden and contrarious excursions. Now, you have to follow him at the rate of twelve knots per hour, adown the stream-again he re-ascends, though with reduced velocity, yet with a varying and zig-zag uncertainty. "Quid opus est pluris," it is your "lucky day," and you drag him, after fifteen minutes of the most exquisite agitation conceivable, quietly to the bank, floating at intervals, on his side, and opening and shutting his jaws like an Elder yawning during sermon-time. He lies as quiet as a lamb, till you raise him fairly out of the water, and bearing him to a secure distance from the river, lay him softly out upon the green turf, and survey his size, spots, and proportion, with the delight of a miser contemplating his gold. A few vigorous courvettes, and turnings from side to side, and from end to end, point out to you the necessity of putting an end to his amusements, and your basket feels heavier by several pounds, upon this addition to your numbers.

Such is a specimen, and a specimen merely, of the blessings and delights which await a true and determined fisher, upon one of his "fortunate or lucky days,"-upon one of those days which, in his estimation, more than compensate for a whole week's unsuccessful effort: great as the discomfort and misery undoubtedly is which the angler suffers on 66 unlucky occasions," it is more, far more than compensated, by a single day of

VOL. XIV.

success such as I have described. We all know that the extreme of delight is more than a match for the opposite extreme of feeling. When the Roman matron heard that her only son had fallen in the battle of Cannæ, she merely fainted from extreme sorrow; but when she learned that the first report was false, and that her son was actually standing safe and sound in her presence, she died outright! As Burns says, though our distresses and disappointments in life be numerous and vexatious, yet "An hour of good fellowship souders it a';"

and by a parity of reasoning are the fisher's miseries, which I am about to narrate, more than out-balanced by the delight I have already hinted at.

Well! it is evidently a fishing morning, for the mist has taken to the hills, and the wind is soft and westerly, and the burns and rivulets have had time to discharge, into the larger streams, the muddy and overflowing waters of the late food. You have dreamed all night of fishing, because preparation in the way of dressing hooks, and arranging flies, had been made on the foregoing evening, and you awaken early, in the midst of a most fascinating sport. An early breakfast is obtained, and, in spite of remonstrance, duty, and inconvenience, you are resolved, come what will, not to lose so admirable a day for the amusement. So off you set, in an immense haste, and at an ever-accelerating rate of walking, towards your favourite mountain streams. You are all alive and buoyant with hope, and indeed absolute certainty. The day is one amongst ten thousand, and you hear, even from the sough of the lins and cataracts, that the water is is in excellent trim. But you begin to bethink you of that important book which contains all your store of tackle, and find, to your indescribable consternation, that, instead of gracing the bottom of your basket, it is lying in a certain drawer of a certain table, where your own hands had carefully lodged it the night before. Think of the man who advanced into Waterloo without his musket;-think of the parson who found himself in the pulpit without his sermon ;—

4 S

think of the Prime Minister who found a certain question come on unexpectedly, in the absence of his voters;-think of the merchant who was half-seas-over without recollect ing the necessary invoice of his freight;-think of Tantalus who was up to the lips in water, without the power of drinking;—think of Sisyphus, who found the stone recoil at the very instant when his labour appeared to be over-think of Proserpine dragged back to Pandy and to Pluto, in ipsis faucibus Orci ;"think of the master when he found the "ferule" burst to pieces in his hand, with which he meant to chastise folly or stupidity;-think of the boy whose hand was immediately over the back of the brooding partridge, but which suddenly sliped away from under his grasp;-think of the author who expected that his works would go through many editions, but who found that the very first edition was altogether unsaleable; think of the editor who expected a good and sensible article from a tried and sensible correspondent, but who got nothing, after all, but a "rhapsody on fishing;"-think, I say, on one, or on all of these particular cases, and situations, and causes of misery and disappointment, and you will thus be able to approximate, for you can never reach the fisher's consternation and anguish on the occasion mentioned! But there is no help, save one, and that is, indeed, a direful alternative, being nothing less than the retracing of his steps for four long miles, and the put ting himself in actual possession of the precious epository in question. There are, indeed, hooks upon the line which is attached to the rod; but then what is one pair to the exigencies of a whole day's fishing? These hooks may be lost at the very first throw, and then what resource is left but absolute and downright de spair. The road, accordingly, is pain fully and hurriedly retraced, the drawer is searched, but the hooks have travelled! In fact, a boy of ten years of age has been dismissed after his father, by a nearer road, with the necessary implements. Worse and worse. The boy is by this time at the water side, and the whole day may be lost before he be found.

However, there is nothing like perseverance, so off the fisher sets anew, and in the wake of the hook-bearer, and for once he is fortunate enough to find his son dabbling with a pair of his best hooks attached to a hazel switch, in the midst of a linnpool. No time is now to be lost; the weather is still favourable, and as twelve has passed, the sky is not likely to clear up, and the sun to break through, for at least sixteen hours to come. To it the fisher sets with might and with main; but, notwithstanding all the favourable appearances, he finds that he comes but little speed. This seems unintelligible, till the boy comes running up with information, that two men with a poke-net are down below upon the water. Was there ever such mischance! and to lose so much time, too, in trying to solicit trouts where the poles and meshes had so lately been! The thing was intolerably vexatious,-so, another and a more-retired stream is resorted to, at the expense of half-an-hour's walking.

In this, for a while, Fortune seems at last to have relented, for the trouts are taking gloriously, and the basket is filling apace. But, at a sudden turn upon the winding stream, the whole onward banks are discovered to be covered with sheep, which are busy nibbling their food, down to, and even into the very waters of the burn. All fishing, therefore, in this direction, is at a close; so a still further and more distant rivulet is resorted to. Just, however, as the fisherman is beginning to unfold his lines, the sun bursts out, in four o'clock heat and splendour, making all the gullets and pools to dance and to sparkle in his light. Confusion worse confounded. This crowns the whole; a "poke-net" may be avoided-sheep, too, may be left to graze where the shepherd has driven them; but who can veil the sun, or pluck him down from his altitude? Who can interpose the dark and gloomy shade over glen, and vale, and stream, and pool, and eddy? The case is completely helpless, so "bait" is resorted to where fly would fail; and, with the greatest labour and difficulty, a decentish fishing is at last obtained. Night, however, is coming on apace, and the distance

from home is now considerable. Preparations are now making for travel, both by father and son, when the hook is suddenly fastened upon a stone, or turf, at the bottom of a deep gullet, and immediately under the bank. After many movements of the rod, right and left, up and down, and in every possible direction, there is no alternative left but to break the line, or to lean squat over the bank, and by inserting an arm deep into the water, to endeavour to disengage the hook. This method is accordingly resorted to; and whilst the father, with his head considerable lower down than his heels, and inclining towards the stream, is in the act of disengagement, an exclamation is suddenly heard from the boy, at some distance below, "6 Ay, father, come here! come here! there's plenty o' trouts here, and they're a dead too, an' easily catched.' In short, whilst the

father had been engaged in endeavouring to attain one object, he had incautiously neglected another; and the lid not being properly secured, the fish, whilst he was bending downwards, had shifted towards the mouth. of the basket, and had dropt, unperceived by him, into the flood. This had occasioned the appearances which the boy had marked, and over which he was unconsciously rejoicing with all his voice and activity. This was indeed crowning the work. A few, and a few only, of the six or seven dozen, were recovered, and at a great expence of wading and searching, from the depths and secret recesses of the pool and stream; and our fisher, who, in fact, was no other than the writer of this doleful narrative, returned home, fully resolved never to fish again upon the 29th of May, this evidently being the "Fisher's unlucky day."

PISCATOR.

THE claim for seat-rents now set up, and in many parishes acted upon, is inconsistent with every notion we can form of an Established Church. Our idea of an Established Church is, that religious instruction, free of expense, is provided for all ranks and classes in the community;-that an ample fund is set aside for that purpose by the State;-and that Heritors, in the eye of the law, are neither more nor less than Trustees on that fund, under the control of the Court of Teinds.

Looking back to the Acts and Commissions of Parliament for the plantation of kirks and valuation of teinds, we find there every thing provided for the support of the Na tional Religion. Not only is provision made for the Ministers' stipends, manses, and glebes, and for building, upholding, and repairing churches, but for every thing connected with the due performance of divine worship. Nothing is omitted: bells, books, communion-tables, and communion-elements-even the Bible and the Psalm-book are provided for

the Minister, as well as his Precentor, and the other officers that are necessary,--that so "all the people, universally, throughout the whole kingdom, may have occasion to participate the benefit of the word *"

This fund was established to give religious instruction gratis,-to the poor as well as to the rich,-to those who possessed, as well to those who had no land; and it was intended to relieve every one from contributing a farthing for the support of the National Religion. Hence it is, that not a man in Scotland pays a penny for the support of the Established Church. What Heritors pay for that purpose is not their own,-it is out of the fund which the nation has fixed on their lands: this fund is not, and never was theirs; and whether they hold their lands by purchase or inheritance, neither they nor their ancestors ever paid a shilling for it. To pretend, therefore, to levy rents from those seats in churches which, by law, they are bound to build out of this fund, is not only oppressive, but illegal, it is making gain of

This is the spirit that pervades our ecclesiastical constitution with respect to levying seat-rents. The Church" can neither be fued nor set in tack;" and being a thing cred," it is, by our law, justly termed "nullius," the property of no one,because the common use of the Church," says Erskine, "belongs to all the parishioners."

Accordingly, by the Acts and Com. missions of Parliament above allu ed to, it was provided that new churches should be erected in those parishes where the bounds were large, or the dwelling in the roums of the parish so remote from the kirk, who, for the great distance of the place, or for the intersection of waters betwixt their roums and the kirks, could not attend church, or have access to it, and to repair thither at the ordinary times appointed for divine worship," so as to enjoy the comfort and the exercise thereof."

These Acts and Commissions are the charters of the Scottish people, entitling them to full and ample church-accommodation-and to that accommodation, too, free of all expense. This is doctrine, we know, very unpalatable to the Heritors and Magistracy of some parts of our kingdom; but that it is sound constitutional doctrine, we shall prove to demonstration, if there be any meaning in words and deeds.

The misconceptions and misrepresentations on this subject would astonish, were it not that we are well aware how much interest blinds even the wise. The evil arises from

Heritors in landward parishes conceiving that parish churches are their own property, and that they have a right to do with them what they like: viewing them in this light, they imagine that they can demand rent for the seats they have provided, and that, if that rent be refused, they have a right to nail up the whole seats of the church, if they so please, and thus prevent any parishioner from occupying them, leaving to the clergyman bare walls and empty benches to preach to!

The absurdity of this is manifest, when it is considered, that, by numerous late decisions in the Court of Session, confirmed in the House of Lords, Heritors are bound and obliged to build a church sufficiently large to accommodate two-thirds, at least, of the examinable persons above twelve years of age. The object of this is, that the parishioners, to that amount, at least, shall enjoy religious instruction. But can this object of Government be attained if Heritors have a right to shut up the seats, and render the parish church a desert, till they get rents sufficiently high to please them? If this were the case, where would be the use of Ministers? and would not the proclamation of our present most gracious Sovereign, which requires and commands " all his loving subjects, of what degree or quality soever, decently and reverently to attend the worship of God on every Lord's day, on pain of his highest displeasure, and of being proceeded against with the utmost rigour that may be by law," be a cruel mockery and insult *?

If Heritors are entitled to nail up their seats, or to refuse sufficient church-accommodation gratis to the people, can the people give obedience to this His Majesty's most gracious and pious Proclamation? If, without rent, they cannot enter into the church and occupy it, is it not exactly the same to them, in effect, as if there were no church in the parish at all? Heritors say they build the church,-they provide the seats,they keep both in repair and in good order, and that therefore they have a right to be remunerated for all this

expense. There is a gross and dangerous fallacy in this representation. Out of their own proper funds, the Heritors pay not a shilling for building, seating, repairing, and upholding the parish kirk, or any thing connected with the Established Religion. They are bound to build, repair, and uphold the manse and its offices, the school-house and its forms, &c. are also provided by them; yet, did it ever enter into the heads of Heritors to call on the Minister and Schoolmaster for rent, or charge each scholar so much yearly for his schoolform? And yet, we maintain, they are as legally entitled to ask rent from the Minister and Schoolmaster as from the parishioners, for seats in the church. If the one be legal, the other is legal but both are illegal; and the exaction is as oppressive and unjust as it is injurious to the interest of the people and of religion.

In saying this, we mean to impute no wicked intention or illegal design to such Heritors. Their sin, we believe, is, in most cases, the sin of ignorance, arising entirely from a misconception of the nature of the fund which they hold, as Trustees, for the maintenance of the National Religion. They have been taught, that, because the Ministers' stipends, with the repairs of the church, &c. &c. &c. come through their hands, and are levied from them, that therefore the Ministers' stipends, and the church, is their absolute property. This is a common error; and as it is founded altogether on a fallacy, we hasten to remove the delusion, because upon it the whole plea of levying rents from church-seats depends.

There is no one, we maintain, be he who or what he may, that pays a farthing for the support of the Clergy of the National Church, or for building and upholding her fabrics. This is an aphorism which cannot be controverted. "The Heritors pay nothing; the farmer and his tenants pay nothing; the Dissenters, or sectarians, pay nothing; even Ministers of the Church of Scotland themselves pay nothing; nay, farther, no class in the community pays any thing, in the sense which the expression

bears in the mouth of those who use it, towards the expense attending

the discharge of the ecclesiastical functions ordained by the State," or for building and endowing churches.

To see how all this happens, suppose-what was actually the case, as shall be shown by and bye-that; all the tithes and land in the kingdom were held by and of the King ;—that he fixed in the land a fund for the support of Religion and her Ministers;-and that this fund, incorporated with their estates, and now inherent in them as a life-rent annuity, is the national provision for securing, on a permanent foundation, the religious and moral instruction of the parishioners of the several parishes in which that land lay. In this view, the fund thus set apart has no relation to any other religious sect than to the Church of Scotland; it can be appropriated to no other use; and, being gratuitously received by the landowner, from the Sovereign, the paying its produce to the Church can be no burden on him or his real personal property ;and as it was no burden on him at first, it can be no burden on his successors; for, whether they hold the land by inheritance or purchase, they have paid nothing for this fund. Being made unalienable, it has, in the lapse of time, been neither bought nor sold; and, therefore, as nothing was paid for this fund by Heritor, or landowner, for him, therefore, to retain the annual fruits of it would not be honesty, but robbery!

That the Teinds-the fund for the support of the National Religion -cost the possessors of land nothing, is a doctrine well founded in law. The present Lord President of the Court of Session, when giving his opinion as a Judge, in 1808, on the question of tithes, said: "From the very earliest periods to which we can trace back our history, the tithes were the property of the State, reserved by the State, and by the State appropriated, or at least applied as a fund for the purpose of maintaining the Clergy." "Let us consider," continues his Lordship, "the situation of an Heritor in the light of a purchaser of land." "Did any such pay one farthing as the price of the tithes? Certainly not. They always are, and always have been deducted