that of her father, Gustavus Adolphus. He had distinguished himself in war; she would do so in the realm of learning and science, and try to get, amongst others, the most famous of living philosophers to grace her Court. Negotiations were carried on with the utmost skill by the French representative in Stockholm, Pierre Chanut, also a philosopher, though that name was used in a freer sense than nowadays. Chanut was a newly-acquired friend of Descartes, and one of considerable diplomatic powers. He was perhaps a little weary of the part he himself had to play of acting as interpreter to his royal mistress, and following her in her distant expeditions to the mountains, where his head, he confesses, suffered from the cold, uncovered as it had to be. Anyhow he persuaded his correspondent that it was an easy matter to get to Stockholm-a' simple promenade '—and, ostensibly on his own account, but in reality, one must surmise, to find diversion and interest for the headstrong young Queen, he at length persuaded Descartes to agree to go to Sweden. Of course, courtier as he was, Descartes hesitated to take so formidable a step as to change his abode and quiet bachelor ways, especially as he was no longer young. He feared, as he says, to go and live in a country of bears'; and even an emissary in the shape of a Swedish Admiral could not at first persuade him to quit his hermitage.' He doubted also, characteristically enough, how the world would regard the visit of a Catholic to a Protestant Queen.

6

All scruples, however, were at length overcome, and Descartes took his departure in September 1649, after carefully putting his affairs in order and obtaining a sort of trousseau of the sort he deemed most suitable. Never forgetful of his personal appearance, he saw to his wig, gloves and shoes being of the fashionable sort. The weary month's voyage accomplished-and during that voyage he enormously impressed the pilot by his knowledge of navigation-he was enthusiastically received by Queen Christina, though for the month succeeding his arrival he saw nothing at all of his erratic mistress. In his heart he soon began to doubt the young lady's having the same inclination for philosophy that she certainly had for letters, and probably he began to compare her unfavourably with his other royal friend, Princess

Elizabeth, who seems to have been a little hurt by hearing that copies of letters to her on philosophical questions had been sent on to the Queen. In any case, she was not as anxious to make friends with Christina as Descartes, in all innocence and with an uncommon lack of human knowledge, imagined she was likely to be.

Queen Christina was indeed a striking figure at the age of twenty-three. She had, by the wish of her father, had the training of a man, and in appearance, dress and action played the part well. Ten hours on horseback did not tire her, and she was an excellent shot, besides being a woman of great erudition. But all her education had unfortunately not taught her that self-control which is most necessary to a Queen, and she certainly had not learned consideration for others. The winter drew on ; Chanut was away; and Descartes spoke of returning home, solitary as he found himself and destitute of likeminded friends. He irritated the Greek scholars of the Court by openly depreciating their erudition, and he himself composed, of all unlikely things, the verses for a ballet, glad doubtless to have escaped being asked to dance. This is the time at which he probably had the portrait painted that has recently been discovered. At length Chanut returned, but the cold increased. Then at last the Queen summoned him to explain to her his philosophy, but to do this she chose the extraordinary hour of five in the morning, when the philosopher had to attend her at the Palace. To the healthy young Queen this was apparently a pleasure. To the recluse, who regularly spent his morning in bed in order to reflect the better, it meant misery. To make matters worse, Chanut, his friend, fell ill of pneumonia; and Descartes, in nursing him, probably contracted the malady. The Queen pressed on him the attentions of a German doctor; but he begged that he should leave him, or at least that he should not bleed him. 'Messieurs, épargnez le sang francais,' was what he said. His own remedies had no effect, and he expired on February 11, 1650, after receiving the last offices of the Church.

Few portions of the great philosopher's life were more dignified than the end. He wrote to his brothers, with whom his intercourse had been of the slightest, commending to their care an aged nurse. He had always

maintained an orthodox demeanour in the eyes of the world, and this attitude he preserved to the end. The last words he is recorded by Clerselier to have said, are very beautiful: 'My soul, thou hast long been held captive; the hour has now come for thee to quit thy prison, to leave the trammels of this body; suffer, then, this separation with joy and courage.' His first burial was at Stockholm, in a cemetery set aside for unbaptised infants, since a regular Catholic burial ground was not available. His body, however, was soon removed to Paris, and buried with great pomp in the church of Ste Geneviève, the modern Panthéon; later it was removed to St Germain-des-Prés (where the tomb is now to be seen), though it was temporarily deposited in the Court of the Louvre during the Revolutionary times. We have of late been entertained by a hot discussion as to the genuineness of a skull reputed to be his, which is now at the Museum of Natural History in Paris.

It was a great career; the story of a life lived worthily and with the highest ends consistently in view. The very failings of the man make us feel he is no remote figure dim from the dust of ages. His teaching that we are to set aside mere conjecture and seek to know with certainty, making sure of each step as we go, is a system of knowledge that is also very modern. We may not build on that system just as he directs us, though the excellent rules he lays down might well be kept before us still, but the substance of his method is as true to-day as it was three hundred years ago. His dualistic view of mind and body, like his theory of the world, has been criticised; but what makes him the originator of the modern, as opposed to the medieval, outlook is the clear and distinct thinking that strives for truth alone. Others will write of Descartes and add to the great literature that has gathered round his name. But they will always turn to M. Adam's volume for an accurate and carefully verified statement of the facts, and to this great edition for an authoritative version of the philosopher's works.

ELIZABETH S. HALDANE.

Vol. 219.-No. 436.

F

Art. 4.-DRY-FLY FISHING FOR SEA TROUT.

So many books and articles have been written on the subject of fishing that some excuse may be necessary for adding to them. My excuse is, that I am to describe a kind of angling which is new to most people, and about which even those who have tried it have still a great deal to learn. Dry-fly fishing for sea trout is still in its infancy, but it probably has a future. Personally, I have only caught sea trout by this method on a river in Norway, but I see no reason why, in any moderately clear river or loch in that country or in this, they should not take a dry fly. The Norwegian river in question rises in high mountains, and is largely fed by melting snow. Some miles from the sea it runs through a very deep lake, which no doubt has a special attraction for the fish. They can, and do, ascend the river which enters the lake at its upper end. The best of the fishing, however, lies between the lake and the sea-a glorious stretch of water, fast and clear, with many pools of every shape and size, and rushing torrents between them; all of it in a wild valley, with the mountains falling almost sheer on either side to the narrow flat through which the river runs.

About four years ago a very expert fisherman, who was not having any great success with the usual methods of catching sea trout, was exasperated into trying the effect of a dry fly. He tied an 00 Wickham's Fancy on a Test cast and floated it over the noses of the sea trout which he could see in the water. Of course, with so small a hook and so light a cast, disasters were frequent; for all that, the result was astounding to himself, the local inhabitants, and the fish. They took the dry fly during the daylight a great deal better than they had taken the wet; and the great discovery was made that one could, on a dry fly and a small rod, kill sea trout of great size in a rapid flow of water. Next year he returned with larger floating flies and stronger gut and reaped the reward of his previous experiments.

Salmon are large but very scarce in the river, but this is more than compensated for by the size and quantity of the sea trout, which often reach a weight of about 15 lb., and occasionally even run to 20 lb. The extraordinary weight of the fish in proportion to the

size of the rod and fly; the amount of fresh knowledge, which really pays him, that the angler may gain every day; the pace of the water; and the fact that one can with practice see many of the fish over which the fly is floating all these things give an intense and peculiar charm to this form of sport. There are, at the right time of year, a great many big fish in the river, but it is not easy fishing, or coarse fishing; and to catch many of them, one must be at one's best all the time.

My great difficulty on the first occasion when I stood by this river was to know where the fish lay, and where they would take a dry fly. It was the first thing to be learnt, and, until it was discovered, much time and energy were wasted in fishing the wrong parts of the stream. I know now exactly what the water looks like, in which I expect my dry fly to be taken; and I will try (though it is not very easy) to describe it.

At the head of any pool in a quick rocky river the main stream runs in, forming a series of waves, which diminish in size and gradually disappear as they reach the smooth tail of the pool. On either side of the main stream the water flows in wrinkling eddies, more or less towards either shore. These eddies meet a backwash from the shore, and between this backwash and the eddies may be seen a band of straight-flowing water of varying width, narrower at the top and widening towards the tail of the pool. This water runs smoothly and evenly, parallel with the shore, and has an oily appearance. It is in the tail, and still more in this oily band on either side of the waves, up to the very head of the pool, that fish may be expected to take a dry fly. If the main stream runs near one side of the pool, the fishable water on that side may be compressed into a very narrow streak, but in most cases it will still be there. In high water, the right place to fish is near the bank, and in low water recedes from it towards the main stream; but, wherever it is, it has the same general appearance, and the fly floats down it at about the same pace. It was of no use to fish in backwaters in this river, because sea trout did not lie in them, and it was impossible to avoid the drag in the eddies which run roughly at right angles to the waves. Provided the water runs straight, the small choppy waves often seen at the sides of the main