At my boarding-house, arrivals were continually occurring of young men, from various parts of the Union, to embark on board whale-ships. I viewed with regret the extreme youth of many of them. There is a systematized mode of procedure carried on in our larger Atlantic and Lake cities, for the purpose of recruiting this service. Shipping agents engage young men, taking advantage of their inexperience or necessities, paint whaling and its appurtenances in vivid colors, induce them to sign their names, and then convey them to New Bedford; and when they come to review their outfit bills, they will find a charge of from ten to fourteen dollars for the agent’s services. Among the arrivals at our house was one from Western Pennsylvania, who talked sailor, walked sailor, and dressed sailor, rolling when he walked so as almost to take in a pocketful of sand on each side, and wore an immense kedge anchor on his neckerchief; he was looked at by the inexperienced as a prodigy, but by old sailors with a contemptuous expression, always accompanied by the remark, “Too much salt water there.” This individual was afterward the most miserable poltroon in our ship, and despite his vauntings of personal qualifications as a seaman, lashed himself with a yard arm gasket to the main topgallant rigging whilst engaged in furling the main topgallant sail. Such is generally the case--men who talk loudly of their ability ashore are apt to be inefficient at sea. And now, after remaining until wearied out, our ship is ready to sail to-morrow. As is customary on the day before sailing, each man proceeds to his outfitter and procures his clothing; the owners usually allow to the foremast hands an advance of seventy-five dollars, for which the foremast hand gives the outfitter an order, and receives his clothing. The Shark, or outfitter, charges double the price of good, for worthless articles, which must be taken at his prices, as there is no redress. By the time the foremast hands’ board-bill and pocket-money are deducted from his advance, the wardrobe he is able to procure is slender and insufficient, so that in the course of a few months he will be compelled to resort to the slop-chest, where, if the ship has been successful, he will be eagerly welcomed--the more so, as the Captain is often interested in the profits of the slop-chest; if unsuccessful, and he has a liberal Captain, his necessities will be supplied; if, on the other hand, he should be parsimonious, scowling looks will be all the relief he gets, and he will be forced to beg from his shipmates, who will not allow him to suffer, although the prudent are cautious, as in a three years’ voyage every man must be careful of his effects, as they constitute his capital.