The whitebait, however, if I cannot honestly praise it as a table fish, is particularly interesting as an object of natural history, there having been from time to time, as in the case of most other fish, some very learned disputes as to where it comes from, how it grows, and whether or not it be a distinct member of the herring family or the young of some other fish. The whitebait—which, although found in rivers, is strictly speaking a sea fish—is a tiny animal, varying in length, when taken for cooking purposes, from two to four inches, and has never been seen of a greater length than five inches. In appearance it is pale and silvery, with a greenish back, and ought to be cooked immediately after being caught; indeed if, like Lord Lovat’s salmon, whitebait could leap out of the water into the frying-pan, it would be a decided advantage to those dining upon it, for if kept even for a few hours it becomes greatly deteriorated, and, as a consequence, requires all the more cooking to bring the flavour up to the proper pitch of gastronomic excellence. In fact, it is necessary to keep the fish alive in a tub of water, and to ladle them out for the process of cooking as the guests may arrive. Perhaps, as all fish are chameleon-like in reflecting not only the colour of their abode, but what they feed on as well, the supposed fine flavour of whitebait, so far as it is not conferred upon that fish by the cook, may arise from the matters held in solution in the Thames water, and so the result from the corrupt source of the supply may be a quicker than ordinary decay. The waters of the Forth at the whitebait ground, of which I have given a slight sketch, are clean and clear, a little way above Inchgarvie, where the sprat-fishing is usually carried on, and the whitebait taken there are in consequence slightly different in colour, and greatly so in taste, from those obtained in the Thames; in fact, all kinds of fish, including salmon, are able to live and thrive in the Firth of Forth. It is long since the refined salmon forsook the Thames, but then salmon are very delicate in their eating, and at once take on the surrounding flavour, whatever that may be. Creditable attempts are now being made to re-stock the Thames, especially the upper waters, with more valuable fish than are at present contained in that river, but whether these attempts will be successful yet remains to be seen. I have been watching with great interest what is being done by Mr. Frank Buckland and others; but salmon I fear cannot at present live in the Thames. To thrive successfully, that fish must have access to the sea, and how a salmon can ever penetrate to the salt water with the river in its present state is a problem that must be left for future solution; however, as Mr. Frank Buckland very truthfully remarks, if the salmon are not first sent down the Thames they cannot be expected ever to come up that noble river.