en in the Museum of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.

We agree with Mr Young in thinking that the preceding facts, viewed in
connexion with Mr Shaw's prior observations, entitle us to say, that we
are now well acquainted with the history and habits of the salmon, and
its usual rate of growth from the ovum to the adult state. The young are
hatched after a period which admits of considerable range, according to
the temperature of the season, or the modifying character of special
localities.[21] They usually burst the capsule of the egg in 90 to 100
days after deposition, but they still continue for a considerable time
beneath the gravel, with the yelk or vitelline portion of the egg
adhering to the body; and from this appendage, which Mr Shaw likens to a
red currant, they probably derive their sole nourishment for several
weeks. But though the lapse of 140 or even 150 days from the period of
deposition is frequently required to perfect the form of these little
fishes, which even then measure scarcely more than an inch in length,
their subsequent growth is still extremely slow; and the silvery aspect
of the smolt is seldom assumed till after the expiry of a couple of
years. The great mass of these smolts descend to the sea during the
months of April and May,--the varying range of the spawning and hatching
season carrying with it a somewhat corresponding range in the assumption
of the first signal change, and the consequent movement to the sea. They
return under the greatly enlarged form of grilse, as already stated, and
these grilse spawn that same season in common with the salmon, and then
both the one and the other re-descend into the sea in the course of the
winter or ensuing spring. They all return again to the rivers sooner or
later, in accordance, as we believe, with the time they had previously
left it after spawning, early or late. The grilse have now become salmon
by the time of their second ascent from the sea; and no further change
takes place in their character or attributes, except that such as
survive the snares of the fishermen, the wily chambers of the cruives,
the angler's gaudy hook, or the poacher's spear, continue to increase in
size from year to year. Such, however, is now the perfection of our
fisheries, and the facilities for conveying this princely species even
from our northern rivers, and the "distant islands of the sea," to the
luxurious cities of more populous districts, that we greatly doubt if
a