the men and of their cabins show that they are greatly in
want of capital; and fishing cannot be successfully performed without a
sufficiency of this industrial element.

Illustrations of this neglected industry might be given to any extent.
Herring fishing, cod fishing, and pilchard fishing, are alike
untouched. The Irish have a strong prejudice against the pilchard;
they believe it to be an unlucky fish, and that it will rot the net
that takes it. The Cornishmen do not think so, for they find the
pilchard fishing to be a source of great wealth. The pilchards strike
upon the Irish coast first before they reach Cornwall. When Mr. Brady,
Inspector of Irish Fisheries, visited St. Ives a few years ago, he saw
captured, in one seine alone, nearly ten thousand pounds of this fish.

Not long since; according to a northern local paper,[13] a large fleet
of vessels in full sail was seen from the west coast of Donegal,
evidently making for the shore. Many surmises were made about the
unusual sight. Some thought it was the Fenians, others the Home
Rulers, others the Irish-American Dynamiters. Nothing of the kind! It
was only a fleet of Scotch smacks, sixty-four in number, fishing for
herring between Torry Island and Horn Head. The Irish might say to the
Scotch fishermen, in the words of the Morayshire legend, "Rejoice, O my
brethren, in the gifts of the sea, for they enrich you without making
any one else the poorer!"

But while the Irish are overlooking their treasure of herring, the
Scotch are carefully cultivating it. The Irish fleet of fishing-boats
fell off from 27,142 in 1823 to 7181 in 1878; and in 1882 they were
still further reduced to 6089.[14] Yet Ireland has a coast-line of
fishing ground of nearly three thousand miles in extent.

The bights and bays on the west coast of Ireland--off Erris, Mayo,
Connemara, and Donegal--swarm with fish. Near Achill Bay, 2000
mackerel were lately taken at a single haul; and Clew Bay is often
alive with fish. In Scull Bay and Crookhaven, near Cape Clear, they
are so plentiful that the peasants often knock them on the head with
oars, but will not take the trouble to net them.

These swarms of fish might be a source of permanent wealth. A
gentleman of Cork one day borrowed a common rod and line from a Cornish
miner in his employment, and caught fifty-seven mackerel from the jetty
in Scull Bay before breakfast. Each of these mackerel was worth
twopence in Cork market, thi