There is an interesting volume entitled “A Mariner of England,” which gives an account of the career of a William Richardson, who from cabin boy rose to the rank of warrant officer between the years 1780 and 1819, a record that gives one a real insight into the life of a seaman at that time. When he joined H.M.S. _Minerva_, in 1793, as a bluejacket, there were no slop-chests, but the purser at stated periods served out as many yards of dungaree as were required to each man for jackets, shirts, and trousers. Needles and thread were also served out, and then the men made the garments for themselves. He gives you, also, some idea of the mismanagement that went on; the crews made up of raw, ignorant, and stupid men, commanded by a young post-captain who only three or four years ago had been midshipman. In tacking and wearing, however, the strictest discipline was enforced. Not a word was allowed to be spoken; only the voice of the commanding officer was to be heard on those occasions, and the boatswain’s pipe was just loud enough to be heard. Swearing was checked by putting down the names of the delinquents on a list, and these men were subsequently punished with seven or eight lashes at the most. The launch was stowed on the main deck under the booms; and on certain nights a lantern was hung up on deck, and a fiddler seated on the topsail-sheet bitts, and there would be dancing for those who cared. The reader will remember we called attention some time back to those spritsails which seem so curious to us moderns. They were also known as “water sails” and as “Jimmy Greens,” both appellations being due, obviously, to the unhappy knack they possessed of scooping up the sea. They are now long since obsolete, but they were retained for a long time for veering the ship’s head round to leeward in the event of her foremast being shot away. But they were also used even when the foremast was standing--both on a wind and off. If on a wind the yard could be topped, and the sail could also be reefed diagonally.