I wish our tastes were more alike, that we might travel together; for nothing but your company is wanting to complete the enjoyment of your

Affectionate brother,

ARTHUR MIDDLETON.

LETTER XXVII.

Arthur Middleton to his Brother Edwin.

DEAR EDWIN,

North side of the Kennebeck River.

BEHOLD us now set off on horseback for the province of Maine, which lies towards the north-east. At a place called Lynn, standing on a small haven, we got a good breakfast, and observed that the people are chiefly employed in making shoes. We were told that four hundred thousand pair are sent every year to Boston, New York, and Philadelphia: and from these ports many of them are exported to Europe. We advanced no farther that day than Salem, the capital of the county of Essex, a large, populous place, handsomely built, with neat houses of a moderate size, suited to the inhabitants, who are chiefly engaged in foreign commerce, though there is a manufacture of sail-cloth. The senate-house is a spa

cious, elegant structure, but the harbour is so shal-low and inconvenient, that a large vessel, heavy laden, cannot approach their quays; yet the enterprising spirit of the people has so well overcome this obstacle, that they trade to all parts of the globe. The ancestors of these industrious merchants were ignorant and superstitious, for in 1692, they persecuted, in a cruel manner, a number of unhappy wretches, for the imaginary crime of witchcraft. How absurd! For the honour of Salem, however, its townsmen were not alone in this ridiculous notion; the same miserable delusion disgraced New England in general at the same period. We took a pleasant walk in the afternoon to Marblehead, a small port on the same bay, wildly situated in the midst of rocks.

The place seemed to be inhabited only by wretched looking women and children, so that I could not help asking one of the former, whether they had banished men from their society. She replied, with a smile, that there were plenty of men, but that they were all employed on the sea, fishing for cod, which they cure, and then call them stock.fish. On our return, we crossed over a bridge that unites Salem to Beverley, where such multitudes of cod are cured, that we were almost poisoned by the smell of them. You shall know the process, without suffering the inconve

nience.

After the fish are brought on shore, they are

washed,

washed, and laid in heaps to drain; and when they have been exposed to the air two or three days, they are placed on hurdles, which extend the length of a large field, till they are sufficiently dry to be packed in cases, pressed down, and sent either to the West India Islands or Europe.

The whole coast of Massachusets and Maine is inhabited by a hardy race of men, who are engaged in the fishery on the Great Sand Bank.

In our way to Ipswich we saw several fields of flax and hemp. Gloucester is situated at the bottom of Cape Ann, and here our noses were again assailed by the oderiferous smell of the stockfish.

Newbury Port is built on the river Merrimack : it has ten public schools, and an institution called the Sea Company, which supports several small houses, on an islet in the mouth of the river, for the accommodation of shipwrecked sailors:

Some of the inhabitants are employed in a nail, manufactory; and others in sugar boiling, who are supplied with molasses from the Antilles, by the exchange of American commodities.

Having crossed a fine bridge over the Merrimack, we entered the high road to Portsmouth, which is the principal town and harbour in New Hampshire, standing upon a Bay, formed by the river Piscataqua, before it discharges its waters into the ocean. The little towns of Dover, Exeter, and Derham, each employed in trade and shipbuilding,

building, lie on the arms of the bay, and the ri vers that fall into it.

The views in this neigbourhood are rendered picturesque, by the intermixture of large rocks and rich meadows.

A few miles beyond Portsmouth, we crossed the Piscataqua, over a bridge that is said to be the finest in America. It is built of wood, in the form of an angle, the two sides uniting on an arch of so great a height, that it admits small vessels to sail under it. The rest of our ride to Portland was through a populous country, bordering on a ridge of mountains, that lie between the Pis cataqua and the river Back; commanding prospects delightfully varied by a great number of ri vers, bays, and cultivated promontories, that terminate at a considerable distance in the mountains of New Hampshire.

The whole coast is a continued zigzag, formed by numerous bays, creeks, and promontories, pretty thickly inhabited; but the farther we go, the less marks of wealth or industry we observe. Portland, however, is handsome in that part called the New Town. The Old town was destroyed in the war of the revolution, and is rebuilt with mean houses, and inhabited by the lowest ranks; it stands on a peninsusa that juts out into Casco Bay; as does North Yarmouth, on a creek of the same bay. Here I was well amused with looking

at

at the various operations of the ship builders, and examining mills of different kinds.

We passed through Brunswick and Wiscasect, two towns of which I have nothing to say, before we reached the Kennebeck, which is one of the principal rivers of the province of Maine: its source is distant from its mouth two hundred miles, and it waters the finest woodlands in this region. The forests and the sea are the grand sources of riches to this district. Most of the people are either wood-cutters, fishers, or limeburners. The dealers in wood retire with their families, about November, into the recesses of the forests; having taken care, in the summer, to provide hay for their cattle, and a hut for themselves, on a particular spot marked for their winter residence. Thus dismally secluded from the comforts of a neighbourhood, they remain till April or May, unless very severe weather compels them to return sooner. Having felled their timber, they bring it on sledges to the brink of the river, where it remains till the rains swell the waters sufficiently to float it down the stream. Each wood-owner knows his own trees by a particular mark. When they reach the mouth of the rivers, they are sent to different ports belonging to the United States, in small yachts.

Evening coming on, with an appearance of rain, we did not wait for a tavern, but rode up to the door of a farmer, who admitted us with the kindest wel

come.