By aid of the North Kent Railway an hour is more than enough for the journey from London to the dockyard at Woolwich. On a bright morning in April, we crossed the paved court of the dockyard in search of the four ships that were being made ready to go in search of the lost Sir John Franklin and his companions—now four years unheard of, and believed to be frozen up in the regions of thick-ribbed ice at the North Pole. Two of the Arctic ships were put in dry dock, and two afloat in the river. The names of the ships as put together by an old sailor in our hearing, express their mission. The ‘Resolute,’ ‘Intrepid,’ ‘Pioneer,’ goes with ‘Assistance’ to Sir John Franklin and his frozen-up pack. We had followed the workman with the artificial memory, and by this time stood beside the dry dock in which one of the vessels, the ‘Pioneer,’ a steamer, was fixed upright and out of water. There she stood in a fine massive granite basin, the sides of which were fashioned into steps. Down there we went, and then walked round and under her from stem to stern, and in doing so, could see what preparation had been made to fit her for the duty she had to do. This steamer had been in the foreign cattle trade, and had brought, it seems, many a drove from the fields of Flanders, and from the hills of Spain, to make fatal acquaintance with the abominations of Smithfield. Bought out of that unsavoury service as a strong capable steamship, she had been placed in this granite cradle, and been swathed outside with tarred felt, upon the top of which additional planking was then fixed. Upon her bows where the shock of the ice would be most severe, another layer of felt was then applied, and over this was riveted tough sheets of iron. With this metal casing her stem was complete. At her stern, as she stood thus out of water, we had an excellent opportunity of inspecting the screw by which she was to be impelled. This was of a brazen compound metal prepared with a view to great strength and toughness; but as its blows upon the stray floating ice might injure it, another screw of iron was on board to replace it should it be broken when out of reach of dockyard help. Having passed round the vessel, and looked up at her huge bulging sides, we ascended the stone steps, and walking along a plank from the dock side, boarded the ‘Pioneer,’ to see—after such outside preparations—what care had been taken with the inside of the ship. It was soon evident that the felting and planking of the exterior had been matched by a similar felting and planking of the interior; with this difference, that inside the felt was untarred. These additions to the thickness of her sides to make her firm and warm, had been followed by another contrivance, to give her still further ability to withstand any crushing weight she might have to endure. Strong beams had been placed aslant, from her keel and her decks, outwards and upwards towards her sides; and lastly, her decks had