the other, that is for being the roughest and most brutal old tar that ever commanded a vessel.

WHITWELL the mate, about thirty-six years of age at this time, told me, he was the son of a man who once had a great fortune, and gave him an university education, but left an estate so encumbered with debts, and ruined with mortgages, that its income was almost nothing, and therefore the son sold the remains of it, and went to sea with an East-India captain, in the twenty-second year of his age, and was so fortunate abroad, that he not only acquired riches, in the four years time that he trafficked about, between Batavia and the Gulph of Persia, but married a young Indian lady, the daughter of a Rajah, or petty Prince in the Mogul Empire; who was rich, wise and beautiful, and made his life so very happy, for the three years she lived, that his state was a Paradise, and he seemed a little sovereign. But this fleeting scene was soon over, and on his return to England with all his wealth, their ship was taken by the pirates of Madagascar, who robbed him of all he had, and made him a miserable slave for more than two years, when he escaped from them to the tawny generation of Arabs, who lived on the mountains, the other side of this African island, who used him with great humanity; their chief being very fond of him, and

entertaining him in his mud-wall palace: he married there a pretty little yellow creature, niece to the poor ruler, and for twelve months was very far from being miserable with this partner, as they had a handsome cottage and some cattle, and this wife was good-humour itself, very sensible, and a religious woman; her religion being half Mahometanism and half Judaism. But she died at the year's end, and her uncle the Chief, not living a month after her, WHITWELL came down from the mountains to the next sea coast under the conduct of one of the Arabians, his friend, and meeting with a European ship there, got at last to London. A little money he had left behind him in England, by way of reserve, in case of accidents, if he should ever return to his own country, he regained, and with this drest himself, got into business, and came at last to be mate of the ship called the Skinner and Jenkins. His destiny, he added, was untoward, but as he had thought, and read, and seen enough in his wide travels, to be convinced, the world, and every being, and every atom of it were directed and governed by unerring wisdom, he derived hopes and comforts from a due acknowledgement of God. There are more born to misery than to happiness, in this life; but all may die to be for ever glorious and blessed, if they please. This conclusion was just and beautiful, and a life

and sentiments so uncommon I thought deserved a memorial.

Miss MELMOTH and I continued at the Talbot for three weeks, and during that time, breakfasted, dined, and supped together. Except the hours of sleep we were rarely from each other. We walked out together every day, for hours conversed, sometimes went to cards, and often she sung, delightfully sung, while on my flute I played. With the greatest civility, and the most exact good manners, we were as intimate as if we had been acquainted for ages, and we found a satisfaction, in each other's company, as great as lovers generally experience; yet not so much as one syllable of the passion was mentioned: not the least hint of love on either side was given, while we stayed at Whitehaven: and I believe neither of us had a thought of it. It was a friendship the most pure and exalted, that commenced at my saving her life, in the manner I have related, and by some strange kind of magic, our notions and inclinations, tempers and sentiments, had acquired such a sameness in a few days, that we seemed as two spiritual socias, or duplicates of each other's mind. Body was quite out of the case, though this lady had an extravagance of beauty. My sole delight was that fine percipient, which shed a lustre on her outward charms. How long this

state would have lasted, had we continued more time together, and had the image of the late Miss NOEL been more effaced, or worn out of the sensory of my head, I cannot say; but while it did last, there could be nothing more strange. To see two young people of different sexes, in the highest spirits and most confirmed health live together, for twenty-one days, perfectly pleased with each other, entirely at their own disposal, and as to fortune, having abundantly enough between them both for a comfortable life; and yet, never utter one word, nor give a look, that could be construed a declaration of the passion, or a tendency towards a more intimate union; to complete that connexion which nature and providence requires of beings circumstanced as we were: was very odd. We sat up till the clock struck twelve every night, and talked of a vast variety of things, from the Bible down to the Clouds of Aristophanes, and from the comedies and tragedies of Greece and Rome to the Minerva of Sanctius, and Hickes's Northern Thesaurus. Instead of Venus or any of her court, our conversation would often be on the Morals of Cicero, his Academics, and De Finibus; on the English or the Roman History; Shakespear's scenes of nature, or maps of life; whether the Edipus or the Electra of Sophocles was the best tragedy; and the scenes in which Plautus

and Terence most excelled. Like two critics, or two grammarians, antiquarians, historians, or philosophers, would we pass the evening with the greatest cheerfulness and delight.

Miss MELMOTH had an astonishing memory, and talked on every subject extremely well. She remembered all she had read. Her judgment was strong, and her reflections always good. She told me her mother was another Mrs. Dacier, and as her father was killed in a duel, when she was very young, the widow MELMOTH, instead of going into the world, continued to live at her country seat, and diverted herself with teaching her daughter the languages of Greece and Rome, and in educating her heart and mind. This made this young lady a master of the Latin tongue and Greek, and enabled her to acquire a knowledge so various and fine, that it was surprising to hear her expatiate and explain. She talked with so much ease and good humour, and had a manner so cheerful and polite, that her discourse was always entertaining, even though the subject happened to be, as it was one evening, the paulo post futurum of a Greek verb. These things, however, were not the only admirable ones in this character. So happily had her good mother formed and instructed her mind, that it appeared full of all the principles of rational honour, and devoted to