No ships afloat are navigated with more jealous care than these, no ships can show a more splendid record of actual correctness in working, and it needs a strong personality indeed on the part of the master to avoid laxity. Having so fine a set of subordinate officers, why should he trouble himself? The love of holding the reins, jealousy of the slightest encroachment upon his prerogatives, will usually keep him from this, but the temptations to enjoy the charmingly varied society in the midst of which he moves as king is certainly very great. All honour to these capable gentlemen that so few of them succumb to it. Whenever stress of weather demands their presence on the high and lofty bridge (Mount Misery, the wise it call), they will be found there, cheery and confident, with apparently no sense of weight of responsibility upon them, although they might well be excused if their brows were permanently furrowed with anxious thought. To know that upon you rests the charge of two thousand souls, to say nothing of from half to three-quarters of a million pounds' worth of property being hurled over the howling sea at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour, is surely enough to give even the most jovial heart pause. Yet these splendid men conceal with great ease any appearance of worry, and behave as though they had nothing more serious on their mind than the making of an Atlantic passage pleasant to their guests. The master of a ship cannot enjoy that peculiar repose common to every other member of his crew. Deeply as they may feel the weight of their special responsibility while on watch, the moment they are relieved the relief is complete. No matter how black the outlook, it is the other fellow's business now. The relieved one goeth unto his bunk, and divesting himself of his clothing, passes into dreamland as free from care as if in some cosy bed ashore. Not one vestige of his late anxieties trouble him. They will come on again all too soon; meanwhile he will get as much sleep into the allotted hours as possible, and nothing short of a summons from his commanding officer shall disturb that calm. The poor skipper, on the other hand, has no such relief. He must cultivate confidence in his officers, or want of rest will soon make an old worn-out man of him; but in any case he must be always ready to assume full responsibility. I have often wondered how the masters of swift Atlantic liners can keep up their spirits as they do, knowing what a number of derelicts there are lurking about the Atlantic. I suppose they say to themselves that, remembering the wideness of the sea, there are an infinity of chances against their striking against any one of those awful shifting dangers, numerous though they be. And they must cultivate a habit of refusing to contemplate possible disasters that are by no means inevitable, else would they soon become unfit for their position.