I have often reckoned ten fishers on one ftream, within fight of each other, on the Clyde, catching Pars. Ten dozens each, on an average, is a moderate

allowance, which makes one hundred dozens for one day's fifhing on one ftream of the Clyde. But I will go farther; I will venture to affirm, that frequently in the feafon, from the ft of June till the end of Auguft, one thoufand dozens of thofe fmall fishes are caught by the fishers in one day, in the Clyde and its feveral branches. Now, Sir, if these would have become Sal mon, here is the destruction of twelve thousand of them in one day, when they are not larger than a man's finger. Let us ftate the medium weight of a falmon at twenty pounds each. Let us then multiply twelve thoufand fifhes by twenty, the quantity will be found to be two hundred and forty thousand pounds of Salmon defroyed, in one day, in one river. I will not venture any calculation on the havock made in all the rivers of Great Britain and Ireland, nor on the river Clyde, during the other days of the feafon fit for fishing; becaufe I hope I have already demonftrat ed clearly this point,-"That, if the fmall fishes called Pars in Scotland become Salmon, there is great reafon for the legislature to interfere, and pats an A&t to put a stop to that fishing, as has been done to the catching of Smolts, or Salmon Frv."

For the pre ervation of the fishery of the river Thames there is an Ad of Parliament, regularing the fize of the methes of the ucts, to prevent the deftruction of the young fry; but, un questionably, the General Salmon Fithery is a much more important object than the prefervation of the fishery of only one ver.

h

I must add, that I have feen the we call Pars in the river Severn; but I do not recolleft if they bore that name. I can have no doubt, therefore, of thefe fishes being found in every river in Britain and Ireland, where the Salmon are Dred.

If you think thefe hints are worthy of a place in your Magazine, I thall communicate to you fome other obler vations, after I have had an opportunity

GLOTIANUS.

Mr. URBAN,

addition to my letter of laft month, I beg leave to obferve, that, in March, 1782, there was a very uncommon high flood in many of the rivers in Scotland; and that in those which rofe much above their banks, and overflowed the meadows, great numbers of the Salmon Fry were left, when the waters fubfided, on the adjacent plains, and were picked up by the country people.

On this occafion the fishermen foretold that there would follow a great fcarcity of Salmon for feveral fucceeding years; and I am credibly informed, that they prophefied truly, for there was actually a very great fcarcity of Salmon in thofe rivers when the Fry had been deftroyed.

If, then, a circumftance of this kind produced fuch a remarkable effect, where the quantity of Fry deftroyed could bear but a finall proportion to the quantity of Pars caught by unlimited angling through the whole feafon; and if Pars actually became Salmon; what an aftonishing additional quantity of Salmon would be produced annually, if a total ftop were put to the fishing for either Salmon, Fry, or Pars !

It is generally believed that Salmon return from the fea into the fame rivers in which they have been bred. If this is fo, it ought certainly to ftimulate the gentlemen and other proprietors of the Salmon Fisheries to ufe their utmost endeavours to prevent the destruction of the Fry; for, if the Fry efcape, they will have Salmon in future in great plenty; but, if they are killed, a very great fearcity muft infallibly be the confequence.

If the Saimon traverfed the wide ocean, as the Herrings do, and if, after they left a river in the fate of Fry, they did not return to that fame river when they are full-grown, a man might adopt the old proverb, that small fifbes are better than none; becaule he might argue, that, if he did not fecure thofe fall fishes when it was in his power, they might 10am about the fea to Nova Scotia. Nova Zembla, or "the Lord knows where, and never again come within his reach: but if, on the con

trary,

Mr. URBAN,

April 2.

SHOULD you be inclined to make

room for the following Effay on Human Calamity, it is at your fervice. By way of introduction, it may be neceffary to mention a few particulars concerning it. One evening in the winter of 1786, I heard related a detail of domestic woe, the effect of misfortune. I found that a collection was fet on foot for the unfortunate fufferers. To extend the knowledge of the diftreffing particulars, I threw the circumftances on paper in the form you fee. The thoughts and reflections interfperfed are fuch as the impreffion of the moment gave birth to.

As the flory may awaken, in the breafts of many, correfpondent feelings, particularly as it is not the work of fiction, but merely a relation of what actually took place in the winter of 1786; and as thofe feelings cannot but aid the general caufe of humanity, the offering, it is thought, will prove not unacceptable from, Yours, &c. S. J. A melancholic Account of Family Difrefs; bumbly fubmitted to the Confideration of the Humane and Beneficent. (December, 1786.)

"Ah! little think the gay licentious Proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence furround;

Ah, little think they, while they fport along, How many feel, this very moment, death,

And all the fed variety of pain!
How many pine in want!- --" THOMSON.

If reflection on the frequent changes and vicillitudes to which the life of man is fubject and expofed can, to confiderate beings, awake attention, and difpofe to kind and benevolent actions, the following ftory of accumulated diftrefs.muft aroufe each finer feeling of the foul, touch the humanizing chords of the heart, ftimulating each generous breaft to relieve the diftrefs, and foften the miferies, of an unfortunate family.

Virtue overwhelmed by calamity has every claim to our fupport the firmnefs with which it fulains the misfortunes and afflictions of life excites our efteem, and arrefts our veneration; and fure what we cannot but revere and efteem must be a fufficient cause to prompt our endeavours to fuccour and relieve. We furely cannot but be ready to pour the balm of comfort into the befom wounded by the arrow of Misfortune; from whofe fhaft none, even among thofe apparently moft guarded by the armour of worldly riches, are fecure, but every one, from the highest to the

lowest, may alike find themfelves vul

nerable.

Since fuccefs will not always crown our endeavours,-fince the prudence of the cautious, the experience of the aged, or the abilitics of the moft eminent, cannot always infure fuccels to our undertaking, or fcreen our attempts from the blafts of adverfe fortune,-let us not too readily blame thofe who have not fucceeded in life, and afcribe to imprudence what the utmost human forenght could not prevent, nor the ftri&teft care and attention hinder.

Theophiles was the fon of an opulent manufacturer in the West of England. His father dying, left him in poffeflion of a bufinets, the profits of which enabled him to live in a ftyle of elegance. He had been married to the daughter of a neighbouring gentleman, with whom he had an ample fortune; and, it being well known the ufe the money would be of to him in commerce, no fettlement was made on her. She was a woman of great amiablenets of difpofition, goodnefs of heart, and elegance of manners; had lott her parents in early life, and was indeed without a relation, till made the wife of Theophilus.

Wealth, fplend ur, content, and hap、 pinefs, were attendants on them. Ar their family increafed, fo likewife die their joy and fatisfaction. But the

calf

calm of happiness, this funfhine of profperity, was not always to continue; the breezes of adverfe fortune began to arife; the clouds of calamity gathered round their horizon:-by failures abroad and in England, the fortune of Theophilus began to leffen; but they, by prudence, attention, and economy, ftrove against the tide of misfortune;alas! in vain; their bark, already that tered, was unable to bear against a wave that at once overwhelmed them. A houfe abroad, with which Theophi lus had formed a moft extenfive connexion, failed; the fum for which he was creditor was fo great, the expected divided fo fmall, as rendered it im poble for him to continue commerce. He therefore gave up the whole of his effects, and was in form made a bankrupt;-reduced, in a short period, from affluence to poverty.

Hope, the cheerer of the wretched, the folace of the miferable, while there was any refource untried, fill dwelt within his bofom, and guarded it from the tyrant Defpair. He was perfuaded to come up to London, and endeavour to get into bufinefs or employment there. He accordingly fet out, with his wife and family, for the metropolis, in hopes that, at the mart of Europe, the emporium of the world, he might find fubfiftence for his wife and children. Vain hope! fruitless endeavour! He found the inhabitants fo bufied in their own concerns, fo taken-up with bufinefs, pleafure, and diffipation, that none was at leifure to liften to his misfortunes, or willing to help and fuccour him; his folicitations for employment paffed unheeded: he came to town friendless and unrecommended, and was likely fo to remain.

They were fcarcely fettled in miferable apartments before the hand of Sick nefs was laid upon them. His wife, the partner of his heart, the patient fharer of his afflictions, fell ill; a fever preyed on her, which at length yielded to time and medicine; the prayers of a defpair ing hufband, the addreffes offered up to the Moft High and Merciful, prevailed: the crifis proved favourable, and fhe, by flow degrees, recovered; but it was only to endure ftill greater pain and mifery. Theophilus in vain renewed his endea vours to get employment; the little matter they brought with them, ficknefs had now wholly expended; they found themfelves without a fixpence; with no other profpect before them but that of

ftarving: to avoid which, they parted with every thing that could procure the fmalleft trifle. In vain he endeavoured to fupport himself under the numerous difappointments he had met with; to rally his fcattered fenfes; they now began to fail him; the diforder of his mind produced a fever; the rapid ftrides of which foretold his death, but took from him all fenfe of his prefent mifery.

Paufe, for a moment, gentle reader, on this complicated fcene of woe: behold, before you, a wife weeping over a husband, apparently on his death-bed, furrounded by children whofe cries of unappeafed hunger pierced her heart; grief had rendered her almoft senselefs.

About this time, chance had brought to them an acquaintance who had a flight knowledge of them during their profperity; his heart melted at the fight of mifery fo acute; his purfe opened for their immediate relief; and among his friends procured a supply of neceffa ries. But who can paint the gratitude of this unfortunate family, relieved from the horrors of ftarving by the interpofition of one who appeared fent by the immediate hand of Providence to their fuccour? This friend has fome expectations of procuring a place for the wretched Theophilus, fhould death fpare him; has provided for one of the children, a lad about eleven years of age; and is in hopes, by the exertions of his friends, to further aid and affift them.

Here ended the relation as it was at the period when the foregoing particulars were put to paper; and I feel myself happy in the addition it is in my power to make to it. Theophilus, by degrees, regained his faculties and health, his friend procured for him the appointment he had in view; and he is now relieved from want, and likely, in fome meafure, to provide for his family :though not reftored to affluence, he is placed rather above "the bitter grafps of fmarting poverty." S. J.

Mr. URBAN, Th-n freet, Feb. 14.

much has been written, faid, and fung, of Dr. Johnfon and his Biographer, that it is unpardonable to add any thing more, without holding a little apolo getic chat with you, Mr. Urban. Whether you are to be confidered as judge, jury, or party concerned, I am heartily willing to fubmit the following to your

decifion-and as I thus leave you at liberty to take, fink, burn, or deftroy, what I write, can any thing more be expected of me?—Now to the point.

There are but two opinions relative to the propriety of publishing Dr. Johnson's hiftory, as we have it in the works of Bofwell, Piozzi, &c.-The one is, that befides the amufement fuch books afford, they tend to convey instruction precifely in the manner the world is ready to receive it. The other opinion is, that it is foreign to the genuine purpofes of biography to collect together corkscrew anecdotes, toothpick moralities, and oak-ftick philofophy; in a word, to convert (or pervert) what might have been an excellent piece of biographical writing into a tolerable jeft. book, and convince the world, that Lord Chesterfield was right when he called Dr. Johnson" a respectable Hot

tentot."

It is not for me to decide between two

opinions fo different, efpecially as my worthy friends the bookfellers tell me "they have no reafon to complain ;"and their opinion ought to have weight with authors.

In my humble judgement of Dr. Johnfon, the brightest feature in his character was that which his biographers feem to have overlooked; I mean, THE PERFECT CONSCIOUSNESS OF HIS FAILINGS. This the Doctor feems to have had in the niceft degree; it always accompanied him, and, joined to his ir refolution, embittered many of his days and nights. If the publication of his Prayers and Diary ftill wants to be juftified, let it be on this fcore, that they prove Johnfon to have been a man whofe inward ftruggles were always directed to overcome habits of which he was painfully confcious, that he did not feek to excufe thofe failings by the delutions of fcepticism or fophiftry, but that he prayed, refolved, and earneftly contended against them. Every panegyric in which this part of the Doctor's character is not included, ought to be deemed imperfect. What more have the greateft and beft men in all ages done, tho' perhaps with better fuccefs?

He that is confcious of his failings, will be alfo confcious of his virtues. It would be eafy to prove this from the whole tenor of the Doctor's character. In his biographical works, when he praifes a virtue of which he is confcious, or cenfures a failing which refembles his own, he praises and cenfures in words that could only have been fupplied by

this confciousness. Hence, in perufing the Lives of the Poets, I have often traced Johnfon depicting his own mind fo ftrikingly, fo accurately, fo naturally and faithfully, that I could not refift the inclination to make a felection of some paffages, which, put together, appear to form an exact and juft character of him. And after fo much has been faid of the Doctor, I hope it will not be disagreeable to your readers to perufe a CHARACTER OF DR. JOHNSON “WRITTEN BY HIMSELF."-" Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur."

"His mifcellanies contain a collection of fhort compofitions, written fome as they were dictated by a mind at leifure, and fome as they were called forth by different occafions. (Vol. I. Cowley, p. 53.) His power is not fo much to move the affections, as to exercise the understanding. (p. 6.) His levity never leaves his learning behind it. (p. 61.) The plenitude of the writer's knowledge flows in upon his page, so that the reader is commonly furprised into fome improvement. (ibid.) He wrote with abundant fertility, with much thought, but with little imagery; he is never pathetic, and rarely fublime, but always either ingenious or learned, either acute or profound. (p. 86) He read much, and yet borrowed little. (p. 87.) He was in his own time confidered as of unrivalled excellence. (ibid.) He is one of those writers that improved our tafte and advanced our language, and whom we ought therefore to read with gratitude, though, having done much, he left much to do. (Denham, p. 118.) It appears in all his writings that he had the ufual concomitant of great abilities, a lofty and steady confidence in himself, perhaps not without fome contempt of others; for fcarcely any man ever wrote fo much, and praifed fo few. Of his praife he was very frugal; as he fet its value high, and confidered his mention of a name as a fecurity against the wafte of time, and a certain prefervative against oblivion. (Milton, p. 130, 131.) While he consented himself to write [politics], he perhaps did only what his confcience dictated: and if he did not very vigilantly watch the influence of his own pathons, and the gradual prevalence of opinions, firft willingly admitted, and then habitually indulged, if objec tions, by being overlooked, were forgotten, and defire fuperinduced convic tion; yet he shared only the common weaknefs of mankind, and might be no

lefs

:

lefs fincere than his opponents. (p. 151.) He taught only the ftate doctrine of authority, and the unpleafi g duty of submillion and he had been fo long not only the monarch but the tyrant of literature, that almost all mankind were delighted to find him defied and infulted by a new name, not yet confidered as any man's rival. (p. 155.) I cannot but remark a kind of refpect, perhaps unconfciously, paid to this great man by his biographers; every houfe in which he refided is hiftorically mentioned, as if it were an injury to neglect naming any place that he honoured with his prefence. (p. 173.)

His warmest advocates muft allow, that he never (pared any afperity of reproach, or brutality of infolence. (p. 190.) He never learned the art of doing little things with grace; he overlooked the milder excellence of fuavity and foftnefs; he was a lion that had no fkill in dandling the kid. (p. 218.) He was naturally a thinker for himself, confident of his own abilities, and difdainful of help or hindrance. There is in his writings nothing by which the pride of other authors might be gratified, or favour gained; no exchange of praife, or folicitation of fupport. (p. 262.) He had watched with great diligence the operations of human nature, and traced the effects of opinion, humour, intereft, and paffion. From fuch remarks proceeded that great number of fententious diftichs which have paffed into converfation, and are added as proverbial axioms to the general flock of pratical knowledge. (Butler, p. 280.) He improved tafte, if he did not enlarge knowledge, and may be numbered among the benefactors to English literature. (Rof. common, p. 320.) He paffed his time in the company that was higheft both in rank and wit, from which even his obfinate fobriety did not exclude him. Though he drank water, he was enabled by his fertility of mind to heighten the mirth of Bacchanalian affemblies. (Waller, p. 367.) His convivial power of pleafing is univerfally acknowledged; but thofe who converfed with him intimately, found him not only pailionate, efpecially in his old age, but refentful. (p. 382) To fee the highest mind thus levelled with the meanest, may produce fome folace to the confcioufnefs of weak nefs, and fome mortification to the pride of wisdom. But let it be remembered, that minds are not levelled in their pow ers, bat when they are first levelled in

their defires. (Dryden, vol. II. p. 23.) His reputation in time was fuch, that his name was thought neceffary to the fuccefs of every poetical or literary performance, and therefore he was engaged to contribute fomething, whatever it might be, to many publications. (p. 55.) That converfion will always be fuf. pected that apparently comes with intereft. He that never finds his error till it hinders his progrefs towards wealth or honour, will not be thought to love truth only for herself. Yet it may eafily happen, that information may come at a commodious time; and, as truth and interest are not by any fatal neceility at variance, that one may by accident introduce the other. When opinions are ftruggling into popularity, the argu ments by which they are oppofed or defended become more known; and he that changes his profeflion would perhaps have changed it before, with the like opportunities of inftruction. (p. 61.) See vol. I. p. 151. 155.

The modesty which made him so slow to advance, and fo eafy to be repulfed, was certainly no fufpicion of deficient merit, or unconfcioufnefs of his own value; he appears to have known, in its whole extent, the dignity of his charac ter, and to have fe♦ a very high value on his power and performances. He pro.. bably did not offer his converfation, becaufe he expected it to be folicited; and he retired from a cold reception, not fubmiffive, but indignant, with fuch reverence of his own greatnefs as made him unwilling to expofe it to neglect or violation. (p. 84.) He has been defcribed as magifterially prefiding over the younger writers, and aluming the diftribution of poetical fam: ; but he who excells has a right to teach; and he whofe judgement is inconteftable, may, without ufurpation, examine and decide. (p. 85.)

His criticifm may be confidered as ge neral or occafional. In his general precepts, which depend upon the nature of things, and the structure of the human mind, he may doubtlefs be fafely re

commended to the confidence of the reader; but his occafional and particular politions were fometimes interested, fometimes negligent, and fometimes capricious. (p. 108.) His fcholaftic acquifitions feem not proportionate to his op portunities and abilities. He could not, like Milton or Cowley, have made his name illuftrious merely by his learning. He mentions but few books, and thole