All this that I have so far described, and much more that I have not even hinted at, is put into a ship merely in order that passengers and freight can be quickly and safely carried over the sea. In these days of luxury, however, passengers demand more than speed and safety. Comfort is, from the viewpoint of steamship lines vying with each other for passengers, a vital necessity, and competition has added comfort to comfort until ships have become lavish and luxurious, and such service as can be had only at the finest hotels and watering places ashore are commonplaces of the sea. Every luxury that lies within the bounds of reason—and, to be truthful, a few that seem to lie just across the border—are to be found on the greatest ships of to-day. Does one wish a suite of rooms with private parlours and solariums, numerous bedrooms and private baths? It is to be had (by the payment of a price) and one is king of truly regal quarters for a passage. Does one wish to bathe in such a bath as Caracalla would have marvelled at? One has merely to go below, put on a bathing suit in the privacy of a perfectly appointed dressing room, and plunge into the crystal water of a pool that would have been the envy of any luxury-loving Roman—a pool so great that in it the smallest of Columbus’s ships could comfortably ride at anchor. Does one wish to entertain one’s friends at dinner? A word to the steward, and when the party is led to its table, there it finds all the brilliance of snowy napery and polished silver, of sparkling crystal and fragrant flowers, with specially printed menus prepared for the event. Has one “snapped” some scenes about the deck with his camera? He has merely to take the film to the dark room and develop it himself or have the task performed by an attendant. A doctor is on duty. An orchestra is carried in order that music may be had for dances, for entertainments, and during meals. A library, with great thick rugs, with easy chairs, and cases filled with books beckons to one when other pastimes pall. A smoking room where card games can be played is a popular centre. A palm garden and an à la carte restaurant are to be found in addition to the regular dining room. A gymnasium is convenient. A nursery for small children is available. But a complete description of such a ship is all but impossible. These are the ships that are the perfection of the type that have all but driven sails from the seas—that have, in the carrying of passengers, entirely eliminated sails. Yet hardly had they reached the point where they might comfortably settle down to profit from the elimination of their ancient rivals, when an upstart ship—a ship whose lineage is so limited that its entire development lies in the 20th Century—put in its appearance and already has gained such a foothold among steam-driven vessels that it seems not unlikely that the days of steam upon the sea are numbered.