Upon approaching this portion of my subject I am somewhat alarmed at the prospect before me. For in all that I set down in this book I strive to be perfectly truthful, not only according to the light of my own experience, but in compiling the traditions of the service as they have become known to me. In doing this I am quite well aware that many whose opinions I value will be offended--it is but natural that they should be. We often invite criticism from our friends, and really think that we desire to be told the truth about ourselves. And so long as the truth is pleasant we enjoy hearing it so much, but when our weaknesses come up for review, however gently, we seldom succeed in keeping our temper, even though we know full well we should be grateful. In what has gone before I hope I have not trodden too heavily upon any of my friends' pet corns, but in what is now to come I fear that some heart-burnings will be unavoidably produced; because the second mate has to pass through that most unpleasant time, common to nearly all professions, when those above him feel it somehow to be their duty to snub, annoy, and discourage him, with a view perhaps to stiffening his moral fibre. Yet the impression produced is usually that of a time of misery such as we would not go through again for a great deal. But here again there is a great range of status. Between the second mate of a large passenger steamer--who is usually a man of large experience, holding a master's certificate, and having occupied many superior positions before--and the second mate of a small sailing ship making his first appearance on the quarter-deck in charge is all the difference imaginable. The one is a most important officer, usually the navigating officer of the ship and principal watch-keeper. His pay is equal to that of many a master of a splendid sailing ship, and his superiors would no more dream of insulting him or bullying him than they would think of flouting the chief engineer. They are perfectly well aware of the fact that before he reached such a post as that he must have proved himself a competent man. The poor fellow, however, who for the first time mounts the quarter-deck the ink scarcely dry upon his certificate, may, and very probably will, have reason before long to wish that he had been content to remain in the obscurity of the forecastle. According to the bent of mind possessed by his commander and, in a less degree, the mate of his ship, so will he be. In some cases it will turn out that no amount of kindness and help given by his superiors is of any avail. The neophyte is no good. In some mysterious manner he has managed to satisfy the examiners at an outport where rules are not so rigidly maintained as they are, say, in Liverpool or London. So he has a certificate, but he is a dunderhead without resources, untrustworthy, not able even to keep awake in his watch on deck, and ignorant of the first principles of his calling. Much may be