What, then, is the young newly passed officer to do when, with his creamy new certificate in his pocket, he finds nothing before him in his old firm but a voyage before the mast as an able seaman? Well, if his folks have any acquaintances among ship-owners--in other words, any influence in that direction--now is the time to use it. Or, if they have any money to invest, they will not find it difficult to purchase a certain amount of interest, which should, and generally does, result in their son getting an opening for employment. But if neither of these levers are available, the aspirant is almost certainly in for a bad time. Probably the best course for him will be to put his pride in his pocket, and take a berth before the mast, always keeping his eyes open when abroad for an opportunity of slipping into a vacant second mate's berth, where he will get the rough edges worn off his newness, and become accustomed to command. In the mean time he must keep carefully in touch with his old firm, so that should he be on hand when there is a vacancy, he may not miss it. His great object, of course, will be to get a footing in a good firm, owning many ships, where promotion is fairly rapid for the smart officer. Of course, he will hunger and thirst after a steamer; but, unless he makes up his mind to go in the lowest class of tramp, and plod painfully onward at very low wages for a long time, he had better stick to sailing-ships until he gets his master's certificate. This for reasons which will appear later on. Into this stage of the officer's upward progress the element of chance or coincidence enters so largely that it is impossible to do more than generalize as to the probable time which will elapse before he reach the goal of his desire. But there is one feature in such a career as I am now attempting to sketch that has not its counterpart, as far as I know, in any other form of employment whatever. It is in the seeking for a berth. I know of no more depressing occupation than that of a capable seaman looking for a ship as officer. It does not greatly matter whether he wanders round the docks or goes to the owner's offices, he is made to feel like a mendicant; and on board most ships he is also made to feel like a supplanter when he asks for employment. To go aboard of a likely looking ship seeking a berth, say as mate, and to meet the present holder of the office, is the usual experience, and a most awkward one it is.