In mostly all the great herring-fishery ports, the harbours during winter have a most oppressive stillness, and often the trade done for a protracted period would comprise the arrival and sailing of a few colliers and a limited number of windbound ships. In spring, the scene changes, however; and by July, every available inch of water area is appropriated to the use of craft employed in the staple industry; and at times so great is the pressure, that many vessels are obliged to lie in the bay and wait their regular turn before being permitted to enter the harbour. In addition to our own ships, a great many German vessels have been hitherto engaged carrying herrings; but within the last two years, Norwegian steamers, which were employed in the Norwegian herring business before steam was introduced here, have greatly taken up the carrying-trade, to the serious exclusion of the British sailing schooners, which held the trade in their own hands for half a century, and considered it strictly their own. In consequence of the altered aspect of affairs, a strong feeling exists among the old-fashioned mariners, especially the local skippers, against what they consider an unjust usurpation of their exclusive right, and many an aged salt may be heard sighing for the ‘good old times.’ But in spite of their quarter-deck arguments, which appear as old-fashioned as their craft, steam-carrying power is fast increasing; and it is more than probable that the once smart fleet of schooners, whose employment in the herring-trade was wont to yield the year’s dividend to the owners, will soon be practically a thing of the past. The social aspect of the fishermen engaged in the herring-fishery has undergone a remarkable change within the last quarter of a century; and the noisy, hard-drinking, indigent toilers of the deep have given place to a race of sober, industrious, religiously inclined class of men, who in many instances have amassed and have at their credit in the bank large sums of money. On the north and north-east coasts, thirty or forty years ago, fishermen as a class were reckoned amongst the hardest drinkers of the population, and one curious custom then existing, but which happily disappeared many years ago, was rather a strong proof of the not very enviable character attached to the men in those days. Before finally settling the terms of an agreement with the curer, the skipper always satisfied himself that one important clause was safe, which was to the effect that the curer was bound to supply a gallon and a half of whisky weekly for the exclusive use of the crew while prosecuting the fishing.