Otoo.  I now saw that the whole was a trick to get something from me; well knowing that Otoo was not in the neighbourhood, and could know nothing of the matter.  Poreo seemed, however, at first undetermined whether he should go or stay; but he soon inclined to the former.  I told them to return me the axe and nails, and then he should go, (and so he really should,) but they said they were on shore, and so departed.  Though the youth seemed pretty well satisfied, he could not refrain from weeping when he viewed the land astern.[1]

[1] Mr G.F. has been so successful in his Otaheitan delineations, that though the subject occupied no small space of our preceding volume, and must again engage our attention, when we treat of Cook’s third voyage, nevertheless we cannot help running the risk of the reader’s impatience by a transcript of some of his sketches.  Speaking of the natives first met with, he says, “The people around us had mild features, and a pleasing countenance; they were about our size, of a pale mahogany brown, had fine black hair and eyes, and wore a piece of cloth round their middle of their own manufacture, and another wrapped about the head in curious picturesque shapes like a turban.  Among them were several females, pretty enough to attract the attention of Europeans, who had not seen their own countrywomen for twelve long months past.  These wore a piece of cloth with a hole in the middle, through which they had passed the head, so that one part of the garment hung down behind, and the other before, to the knees; a fine white cloth like a muslin, was passed over this in various elegant turns round the body, a little below the breast, forming a kind of tunic, of which one turn sometimes fell gracefully across the shoulder.  If this dress had not entirely that perfect form, so justly admired in the draperies of the ancient Greek statues, it was however infinitely superior to our expectations, and much more advantageous to the human figure, than any modern fashion we had hitherto seen.”

“It was not long before some of these good people came aboard.  That peculiar gentleness of disposition, which is their general characteristic, immediately manifested itself in all their looks and actions, and gave full employment to those who made the human heart their study.  They expressed several marks of affection in their countenance, took hold of our hands, leaned on our shoulders, or embraced us.  They admired the whiteness of our bodies, and frequently pushed aside our clothes from the breast, as if to convince themselves that we were made like them.”  According to this gentleman, it was the women of the “baser sort,” who yielded without difficulty to the solicitations of the sailors.  “Some of them,” says he, “who came on board for this purpose, seemed not to be above nine or ten years old, and had not the least marks of puberty.  So early an acquaintance with the world seems to argue an uncommon degree of voluptuousness,