This was asked in a friendly way, and apparently with great indifference as to the nature of the reply, but with profound art.  It was Daggett’s wish to establish a sort of partnership, which, taken in connection with the good feeling created by the affair at Beaufort, would be very apt to lead on to further and more important association.  Luckily for Gardiner, an idea crossed his mind, just as he was about to reply, which induced the wisest answer.  It was the thought, that competition would be more likely to cause exertion than a partnership, and that the success of all would better repay them for their toils and risks, should each vessel act exclusively for itself.  This is the principle that renders the present state of society more healthful and advantageous than that which the friends of the different systems of associating, that are now so much in vogue, wish to substitute in its place.  Individuality is an all-important feeling in the organization of human beings into communities; and the political economist who does not use it as his most powerful auxiliary in advancing civilization, will soon see it turn round in its tracks, and become a dead weight; indulging its self-love, by living with the minimum of exertion, instead of pushing his private advantage, with the maximum.

“I think each vessel had better work for herself and her owners,” answered Roswell Gardiner.

As the schooners were in the trades, there was a regular sea running, and one that was neither very high nor much broken.  Still, the boats were lifted on it like egg-shells or bubbles, the immense power of the ocean raising the largest ships, groaning under their vast weight of ordnance, as if they were feathers.  In a few minutes, Gardiner and Daggett became a little more separated, each looking eagerly for the spouts, which had not been seen by either since quitting his vessel.  All this time the two mates came steadily on, until the whole of the little fleet of boats was, by this time, not less than a marine league distant from the schooners.  The vessels themselves were working up to windward, to keep as near to the boats as possible, making short tacks under reduced canvass; a shipkeeper, the cook, steward, and one or two other hands, being all who were left on board them.

We shall suppose that most of our readers are sufficiently acquainted with the general character of that class of animals to which the whale belongs, to know that all of the genus breathe the atmospheric air, which is as necessary for life to them as it is to man himself.  The only difference in this respect is, that the whale can go longer without renewing his respiration than all purely land-animals, though he must come up to breathe at intervals, or die.  It is the exhaling of the old stock of air, when he brings the “blow-holes,” as seamen call the outlets of his respiratory organs, to the surface, that forces the water upward, and forms the “spouts,” which usually indicate