We may gather some small idea of what seamen and sea-going were like in the Middle Ages from the pen of one Brother Felix Fabri, a Dominican of Ulm, who went from Venice to Jerusalem somewhere about 1480. Space forbids as long an extract as could be wished, for his experiences are both interesting and amusing. The seamen with whom he came in contact were not Englishmen, but "sea ways" are generally much the same all over the world. He and his fellow pilgrims chose their berths before starting, and had their names chalked over them. He gives many warnings, which those of us who have been to sea can well appreciate. To the would-be traveller he says: "Let him not sit on any ropes, lest the wind change of a sudden and he be thrown overboard". And "Let him beware of getting in the way of the crew, for however noble he may be, nay, were he a bishop, they will push against him and trample on him". "He should also be cautious where he sits down, lest he stick to his seat, for every place is covered with pitch, which becomes soft in the heat of the sun". Inadvertently to "steal the commander's paint" is a mishap which may easily overtake the unwary on board His Majesty's ships in these latter days. The chronicler explains that the captain's authority is absolute; though ignorant of navigation, he commands what course the ship will take. He has under him a master-at-arms, a "caliph" or "ship's husband", and a "cometa" or "mate", who sets the crew in motion--like the commander in a modern man-of-war. "The mate's subordinates", says Brother Felix, "fear him as they would fear the devil." The crew--bar the wretched slaves who worked the oars, and of whose tortures "he shuddered to think"--consisted of "compani", nine in number, who were employed on all dangerous work aloft, and others termed "mariners", who, according to him, "sing while work is being carried on to those who do it". This sounds like a "soft job", but the "mariners" probably may be classed with the so-called "idlers" in our war-ships, who are anything but idle. There was a "scribe", with the duties of the purser on a mail steamer of our day, who "arranges disputes about berths, makes men pay their passage-money, and has many duties. He is, as a rule, hated by all alike." We must not omit mention of the pilot, or navigating officer, with whom were associated "certain cunning men, astrologers and soothsayers, who watch the signs of the stars and the sky". They have a chart, "an ell long and an ell broad, whereon the whole sea is drawn with thousands of lines". One of them was always on duty, watching the compass and chanting "a kind of sweet song, which shows that all is going well, and in the same tone he chants to him that holdeth the tiller of the rudder, to which quarter it ought to be moved".