The nature of our profession is so complicated, and the occasions are so frequent in which these well known principles are brought into action, that, I believe, it almost invariably happens, when the captain and his officers are not on terms, or do not pull together, that the ship falls, more or less, out of discipline. This occurs even when the officers and their captain are sufficiently public-spirited, to desire sincerely not to allow private differences to interfere in any degree with the course of official duty. For the sailors are exceedingly quick-sighted to such matters, and both they and the midshipmen, not only discover immediately when there is any coolness between the captain and his officers, but are naturally prone to exaggerate the cause and consequences of such differences. If, however, as generally happens, the crew know nothing of the real points in dispute, they fall into a worse error by inventing the most preposterous stories to account for those misunderstandings which they see exist between the higher powers. Advantage, also, is very soon taken of these disagreements, by such persons amongst the crew as are always ready to escape from the restraints of good order, and who imagine, too often with reason, that the officer who is not on pleasant terms with his captain will not be duly supported by him. In a word, when the officers and captain cease to respect one another, or, what comes exactly to the same thing, appear to have lost that mutual respect for one another, of which an easy sociability of intercourse is one of the most obvious proofs, they speedily lose the respect of the people under their command. I can compare the harsh and grating state of affairs on board ship, when, unhappily, there exists bad blood between the captain and officers, to nothing so well as to an engine amongst the machinery of which a handful of gravel has been cast. It may be asked, how can the simple operation of dining together once or twice a week stave off so great an evil? But the answer is easy; for every one must be aware, that it is by small beginnings and slight causes of imaginary offence—by trivial misunderstandings unexplained—or by real but small causes of just indignation not apologised for, that the bitterest heart-burnings of life too often arise. If, however, these seeds of dissension can only be weeded out before they begin to germinate, their evil growth may not only be checked, but actual good, in most instances, be made to spring up in their place. In order to make the practical operation of these things quite clear, I shall state two cases, both of which I have seen occur on board ship a hundred times, and of which I can speak with some confidence, as I have myself often acted a part on different sides, and therefore know their bearings from actual trial.