most important of all the notions. If it were true, those interested in trout-streams elsewhere would have something to learn from Hampshire; but, unfortunately, it seems to be as much a superstition as either of the others. Where else than in Hampshire are tame twopounders turned into the streams to-day to be treacherously slain next week? Then, why are they turned in? That can only be because apart from them the stock of 'sizeable' fish would be found unsatisfactory. No other reason is conceivable. Streams that are artificially stocked with large trout, that is to say, have but a spurious prosperity. In common with other streams, they have suffered a certain falling-off in their head of fish. Last year, in the April issue of this Review, it was suggested that the decline was more noticeable in the number of large fish than in the number of fish in general, and reasons then stated for that belief have since been strengthened by facts disclosed in connection with the 'free-fishing ' agitation in the Borders. With rods multiplying and becoming more active from year to year, it is only natural that the Hampshire waters, like others, should gradually lose their large fish; but, regard being had to the great care taken of the streams in Hampshire, and to the general assumption that their management is the best in the world, it is astonishing to gather that were they not regularly replenished with heavy trout they would be in as poor a plight as streams elsewhere in England, and all over Scotland, which are under practically no management at all. This obliges us to perceive that the controversy between the two methods of angling, the Hampshire method and the method which is general elsewhere, has a serious side as well as a silly side. The Hampshire convention, none too attractive in practice or in literature, is confessedly a failure as regards the preservation of the stock. It is questionable whether, with all the advantages touched upon, any mile of the Itchen or of the Test has more trout, or even more large trout, than an equivalent stretch of the Tweed or of the Tay. The less fashionable practice, then, cannot be deemed more injurious than the other. The fact is that anglers in all parts of the country have still a great deal to learn. The Scots custom of keeping practically all trout that are brought to the bank, a custom which extends far into England, is reprehensible. If small fish continue to be taken in increasing numbers every season, the stocks, even as regards numbers, are bound to decline. The fecundity of trout, great as it is, cannot permanently outstay the inconsiderateness of the anglers on streams that are open to the public. In this respect Scotland is far behind the South of England. Thousands of Scots anglers pursue their sport without the slightest regard to ultimate consequences; but, after all, the South of England does have an ideal. It is certainly anxious that the streams should be worth fishing in for ever. That is easily understood. Men whose habitual haunt is a great city realise the value of trout-streams much more keenly than the country folk to whom these are familiar. It is therefore to the South of England, which really means London, that we must look for wellinformed example. That is why I have endeavoured to suggest that there is more joy to be found in fly-fishing than the conventions of Hampshire permit. It may seem paradoxical to argue that the race of trout will be preserved and strengthened if the means of catching more of them are adopted; but there is many a truth in the guise of paradox. One, I think, is that in Hampshire and elsewhere there would be more trout, and eventually larger trout, if on all possible occasions every fly-fisher filled his basket to the lid with trout of takeable' size. He could not do this without having first acquired a minute acquaintance with the ways of the fish and of the great variety of insects on which they feed. To glean the full delight which a trout-stream is capable of yielding will be well worth the effort through which the knowledge is to be obtained. It will render indolence by the waterside impossible, and apply a closure to such sayings as that 'It is a profound mistake to suppose that the first object of the angler is to catch fish.' The more fish one catches, the more fresh glimpses one gains into the marvellously intricate system of natural laws by which the incidents of the sport are regulated. One finds understanding, that is to say; and it is understanding that is wanted. There is precedent for the belief that opportunities for a sport multiply and become enriched in proportion as the pursuit is freed from prejudicial conventions and conducted with scientific energy. Grouse, for example, are much more abundant now, when many men seek them every August, than they were seventy years ago, when they were sought by only a few; and they are most plentiful on those moors from which the heaviest bags are carried year after year. It is more than probable that a similar wonder may ere long overtake the trout-streams. A most instructive discovery has just been made. Until trout are past the prime of life the males rise at fly much more freely than the females. Afterwards the males do not take fly at all. They seek more substantial fare, and at spawning time prey upon the young males. It is now known that in some waters there are only two or three males to each twenty females. Thus, most of the spawnbeds are infertile. Perhaps this explains the perennial need in Hampshire for re-stocking. The need is hardly perceptible in Scotland, where sportsmen have not yet become so fastidious as to abjure the worm, to the tempting of which, much to the advantage of the streams the useless old cannibals fall. W. EARL HODGSON. VOL. LXIII-No. 375 3 G THE last word of criticism on Shelley cannot yet be written, for Shelley's ideas and the poetry in which they are embodied are within the realm of theological controversy. It is more than eighty years since Shelley was drowned, yet not a year passes in which he is not admonished, disparaged, pitied, or, it may be, ineptly extolled by those whose sympathies outrun their judgment. The recent publication of his boyish letters to Miss Hitchener has renewed the oppor tunity for the customary homilies. Small indeed is the number of those who with the critical faculty and a fine taste unite freedom from theological or moral bias. Even Mr. John Addington Symonds in that little life of Shelley, in the English Men of Letters series, which in taste and judgment is almost perfect, could not refrain from the suggestion that there was something less than noble in the poet's philosophy, while Mr. Swinburne in his valuable study of Shelley's poetry, else more measured than is his wont, could not resist the temptation to turn aside and trample on a Professor of Divinity. The reason for the prejudice which on both sides darkens counsel is, as Sir Leslie Stephen hinted, that the world has not yet determined the truth or error of some opinions which Shelley held. Sometimes this prejudice is displayed in an impatience of the whole topic, in a revolt against what Professor Freeman called the chatter about Shelley.' The historian hastily considered this chatter,' condemned it, and plunged again into history, which, with a lack of sympathy, might be described, by M. Anatole France, for instance, as chatter about mankind. Men of letters, for whom art and not science is the highest expression of man's energy, have also exhibited this impatience. Twenty years ago the late Mr. Traill defied anyone 'to say anything about the relations between Shelley and Harriet which it can nowadays concern mortal man to hear.' Mr. William Watson, whether consciously or not I do not know, took up the gage, and wrote this exquisite quatrain: A star look'd down from heaven and loved a flower Many who are unacquainted with the voluminous literature of the subject may be surprised to find that there is any question as to Shelley's place in our galaxy of poets, although they are familiar with the idea that his life was distasteful. For Shelley has become a national fetish, accepted by the majority who are unlettered as a name which in some way undefined reflects lustre upon the race. This is shown, humorously enough, by the fishermen in the Bay of Spezzia who claim to be the grandsons of Shelley's boatman. 'It is our little story for the English; they like it much.' But the minority who read and think, for the most part deal with the fetish as Maggie Tulliver dealt with her doll. It may be remembered that Maggie first drove nails into its head, that luxury of vengeance having been suggested to her by the picture of Jael destroying Sisera in the Bible,' but afterwards, when her fury was abated, she used to comfort her fetish, and make believe to poultice it.' Such is the custom of critics so lately with us as Mr. R. H. Hutton and Matthew Arnold. Mr. Hutton very gravely and deliberately drove his nail into the head of the Shelley fetish, feeling 'incompetent to determine how far it was a twist of nature inborn, and how far voluntary wilfulness' which led to Shelley's wandering very far indeed from the right track.' Which track may be inferred when presently we read that it was 'boastful irreverence' which led to the poet's expulsion from Oxford, and 'a vulgar caprice' which induced him to avow his atheism in the inn album at Montanvert. This indication of a certain bias may prepare us to discover that Shelley's poetic genius was thin.' It is the peculiar privilege of the English critic to indicate the right track' for mortal men, and to discriminate with unction between the track of the present and of the past; a cultivated Frenchman would say, with a smile, 'Quand Paris a tort ou raison, c'est la faute d'Athènes ou de Rome.' But Mr. Hutton, having driven his nail home, sought to apply the healing poultice, It can hardly be doubted that he learned even to believe in God as he drew towards the end.' This suggestion is pushed to the verge of assertion by Browning, who had a sincere love for Shelley, or rather for that 'projection from himself of the image of his own love' which he believed to be Shelley, to quote words used by him in a different connection. Browning abstained from censure, preferring to assume that Shelley's opinions and conduct reflected the 'passionate, impatient struggles of a boy towards distant love and truth.' Shelley's poetry was 'a sublime fragmentary essay towards a presentment of the correspondency of the universe to Deity,' while the poet himself was 'a man of religious mind' who, had he lived, 'would have finally ranged himself with the Christians.' This is to lose all grip upon reality. What can be said of such criticism but that it is the expression of a fervent enthusiasm ? Less extravagant was the old-fashioned sermon of 1 1 Browning Society's publications, 1881. Gilfillan, who drew the conventional moral from the poet's tragic death, and with a solemnity befitting the theme pictured the vengeance of an insulted Deity. O genus infelix humanum, talia divis Cum tribuit facta atque iras adiunxit acerbas! Indeed, if Shelley's views were clearly understood, few more impressive texts could be chosen by the orthodox than the last entry in Williams's diary, written a few days before Shelley and he were drowned in a storm: Processions of priests and religiosi have for several days been active in their prayers for rain; but the gods are either angry or nature is too powerful.' Or this passage from a letter in which the poet refers to a grotesque article in the Quarterly Review,—' It describes the result of my battle with their omnipotent God; his pulling me under the sea by the hair of my head, like Pharaoh; my calling out like the devil who was game to the last . pretending not to be drowned myself when I am drowned; and, lastly, being drowned.' 6 Recently, in a vivacious essay, Mr. Lang examined the opinions canvassed by Shelley during his brief residence at Oxford, and drew the conclusion that he did not at the time hold the opinions advanced in his pamphlet The Necessity of Atheism. Certainly, a month or two earlier in letters to Hogg he is to be found arguing in support of Deism. This is what he writes: Stay! I have an idea. I think I can prove the existence of a Deity-a First Cause.' He then suggests that the cause of the attraction of atoms under the influence of gravitation might not only be a first cause, but might be exalted into a Deity. Nothing remains,' he continues, but to prove that this Deity has a care, or rather that its only employment consists in regulating the present and future happiness of its creation.' Only that! It may be that Shelley passed through a brief phase of Deism, but he was not content with the Deistic position; his language at the time is hardly that of a convinced Deist,-Stay! I have an idea. I think I can prove the existence of a Deity.' The yeast of speculation was working in his brain; he reasoned with his father, his sister, his uncle, with Hogg, with Mr. W., Mr. L., and the other unknown correspondents whom he swept into his metaphysical net. To Mr. W. he sent 'five sheets of paper full.' 'I sat up all night to finish them; they attack his hypothesis in its very basis. I have attempted to prove, from the existence of a Deity and of Revelation, the futility of the superstition upon which he founds his whole scheme.' Whether at this time, early in January 1811, Shelley believed in a Deity or not, nothing is clearer than that he did not believe in Revelation. He was, it will be seen, none the less interested in it as a means of argument; he was prepared to use each argument in turn to see whither it would lead. Writing to Hogg a month after their expulsion from the University, he says, ' You have, with wonderful sagacity, no doubt, |