yields a variety of earths, of different colours. His gratitude to you is extreme; he attributes all his blessings to your generosity. His wife is remarkable for her industry and attachment to her husband; and is esteemed for her good nature by all her neighbours, which gains him a great deal of custom and as their frugality and good management are equal to their assiduity, Sancho expects to save money, and proposes, when able, to purchase a share in a whale trader, and go in quest of that profitable fish; a profession that is followed by the principal men on the island." This led to the subject of the whale fishery, carried on by these hardy mariners; and the account is so interesting, that I transmit the substance of it for your entertainment. The vessels used for this purpose are not large, and are always manned with thirteen hands, that they may row two whale-boats, the crews of which must consist of six; four at the oars, one at the bows with the harpoon, and the other at the helm. It is indispensable that there should be two of these boats, that if one should be overset in attacking the whale, the other should be ready to save the hands. Five of the thirteen are always Indians; and the thirteenth man remains on board, to steer the vessel during the action. None but young men are fit for this employment, which requires great vigour and agility. As soon as they arrive in those latitudes where whales whales are to be found, a man is sent up to the mast-head. If he sees one, he calls out, "Awaite, Pawana," which signifies, "Here is a whale." The boats are immediately launched, filled with every implement necessary for the attack. They row towards the whale with astonishing velocity. When they have reached a proper distance, one of them rests on its oars, and stands off to witness the approaching engagement. The harpooner, in the other, in a jacket closely buttoned, and a handkerchief bound tight round his head, stands on the bow, with the dreadful weapon in his hand, to the shaft of which is firmly tied the end of a cord, that is coiled up in the middle of the boat, with the other end fastened to the bottom. When the harpooner judges that they are near enough to the whale, he orders them to stop. If the whale has a calf, whose safety attracts the attention of the dam, it is considered to be a favourable circumstance: if she happens to be asleep, he balances high the harpoon, trying in this critical moment to collect all the energy he can exert. He launches forth the instrument of death. She is struck. From her first movement, they judge of her temper, as well as of their success. Sometimes, in the sudden impulse of rage, she will attack the boat, and demolish it with one stroke of her tail. In an instant the frail vehicle disappears, and the assailants are plunged in the dan. gerous element. Were the whale armed with the jaws of the shark, and as voracious, they never would return home to amuse their listening wives with the interesting tale of their adventures. Sometimes, on the first stroke, she will dive, and disappear from human sight, and every thing must then give way to her velocity, or all is lost. At other times, she will swim away as if untouched, and draw the cord with such swiftness, that it will set the edge of the boat on fire by the friction. If she rises before she has run out the whole length, she is looked upon as a sure prey. The blood she has lost in her flight weakens her so much, that, if she sinks again, it is but for a short time; the boat follows her course with an almost equal speed. She soon reappears, tired with her exertions, and having tinged the water with her blood, dies, and floats upon the surface. Perhaps at another time she may not be dangerously wounded, though she carries the harpoon fast in her body; when she will alternately dive and rise, and swim on with unabated vigour. She then soon reaches beyond the length of the cord, and carries the boat along with amazing swiftness. The harpooner, with the axe in his hands, stands ready. When he observes that the bows of the boat are much pulled down by the diving whale, and that it begins to sink deep, and to take in a great deal of water, he brings the axe almost to the cord. He pauses-still flatter. ing himself that she will slacken her pace; but the moment moment grows critical; unavoidable danger threatens them. But it is vain to hope; their lives must be saved: the cord is cut: the boat rises again. If, after thus getting loose, she makes a second appearance, they will attack and wound her again. She soon dies; and when dead, is towed alongside of their vessel, where she is secured. Their next care is to cut up their prey, and set the kettles a' boiling, in order to procure the oil, which is the reward of their dangerous enterprize. Different occupations promote vice or virtue, according to their peculiar influence. The life of a whaler is a continual exercise of fortitude, conrage, activity, and presence of mind; qualities renowned in those who have too often turned them to the purposes of destroying or oppressing their fellow creatures, whilst they are sometimes overlooked in the hardy mariner, who risks his life to procure a maintenance for himself and family, and contributes, by his labours, to the good of the community. The honest captain having finished his narration, we thanked him for the information he had given us, and Arthur entrusted him with a letter and a present to Sancho; after which we took leave. He departed to his ship; and we are preparing to embark on board a vessel bound for Boston. Believe me, with sincere attachment, your's, WE came from Penobscot to Boston in a merchantman, heavily laden with a cargo of firewood; it was happy for us our passage lasted but two days, as the very deck was so crammed, that there was only room for the steersman, which rendered the voyage very disagreeable. Mr. Franklin could not resist the pleasure of staying a few days with our friends at Boston, whose hospitality engaged us at different houses every day; in one of these cheerful meetings, the conversation turned upon the fine arts, and an American, who was desirous of praising the talents of his countrymen, observed, that several of the celebrated artists whose works adorn our public exhibitions in London, were Americans. I was so ignorant, that I was obliged to enquire who they were. "The president of your Royal Academy," said he, "West, is a native of Philadelphia, whose historical pictures will transmit his fame to posterity. Stuart was born in Rhode Island, and Trumball in Connecticut," continued he, "and this town may boast of having given birth to Copley, whose works |