Some of the witnesses examined at the trial stated that there was “no hard and fast rule with regard to the length, breadth, and depth of ships.” While agreeing as to the truth of this statement, I may add that, in my opinion, it is a great pity there is _not_ such a rule to go by so that shipowners could not get a sea-going ship built just whatever shape they pleased. Difference of opinion there may be—and perhaps must be—concerning the exact proportions of a sea-worthy ship; but there can be no difference of opinion regarding certain natural laws; for instance, a pyramid won’t stand upon its apex, and hence ships built on what I may call the “rule of thumb” principle are more apt to be wrong than right. Independently of loading and rig, the longer a ship is, the less her ability to keep out of the trough of the sea; her depth is the measure of her strength to resist a vertical strain, and her breadth of beam is the measure of her strength to stand a side blow. When iron steamers were first built they were constructed about five times as long as they were broad, and about seven times as long as their depth. These were considered safe proportions, but a genius arose who discovered—after studying the twelfth proposition of Euclid’s first book no doubt—that without any other alteration than adding two and a-half breadths to a steamship’s length, she could carry just double the quantity of cargo, while the working expense of the ship was not much increased. This, therefore, is the real reason why steamships are frequently built with their length ten times their width and sixteen times their depth. A few are even worse than this, their depth being only an eighteenth part of their length! The latter are not worthy of being called _ships_, they are mere _logs_ from a sea-going point of view! This much may, however, be said, that, in spite of the bad shape of a ship, a great deal, by means of loading and rig, can be done to help a “lame” vessel to behave herself. At the same time the reverse is also true that the best shaped ship ever built can be “crippled” by loading and rig. Any seaman reading this will thoroughly understand what I mean; but as this book is written for both “sea and shore” readers, perhaps, for the benefit of the latter class, I had better explain the apparent paradox, thus: Take a ship, the best and most sea-worthy ever built, load her with a dead cargo, say pig-iron, as much as she can safely carry, stow it fore and aft in the hold as low down as possible, that is, on the ship’s floor or “skin.” Send her to sea, and when she gets into heavy weather she will be so “stiff” that she will strain herself, and shake the masts out of her. On the other hand take a similar ship, put the iron cargo in the tween-decks, that is, the upper hold, and she will be so tender, or “crank,” that in a moderately heavy sea she will roll over and founder. The reasons are simply these: In the instance of the first ship the centre of