ever seen such a crowd! Liars, cheats,
thieves. . . "

It was a needlessly jaundiced view. There were in that ship's company
three or four fellows who dealt in tall yarns, and I knew that on the
passage out there had been a dispute over a game in the foc'sle once or
twice of a rather acute kind, so that all card-playing had to be
abandoned. In regard to thieves, as we know, there was only one, and he,
I am convinced, came out of his reserve to perform an exploit rather than
to commit a crime. But my black-bearded friend's indignation had its
special morality, for he added, with a burst of passion: "And on board
our ship, too--a ship like this. . ."

Therein lies the secret of the seamen's special character as a body. The
ship, this ship, our ship, the ship we serve, is the moral symbol of our
life. A ship has to be respected, actually and ideally; her merit, her
innocence, are sacred things. Of all the creations of man she is the
closest partner of his toil and courage. From every point of view it is
imperative that you should do well by her. And, as always in the case of
true love, all you can do for her adds only to the tale of her merits in
your heart. Mute and compelling, she claims not only your fidelity, but
your respect. And the supreme "Well done!" which you may earn is made
over to her.

III.

It is my deep conviction, or, perhaps, I ought to say my deep feeling
born from personal experience, that it is not the sea but the ships of
the sea that guide and command that spirit of adventure which some say is
the second nature of British men. I don't want to provoke a controversy
(for intellectually I am rather a Quietist) but I venture to affirm that
the main characteristic of the British men spread all over the world, is
not the spirit of adventure so much as the spirit of service. I think
that this could be demonstrated from the history of great voyages and the
general activity of the race. That the British man has always liked his
service to be adventurous rather than otherwise cannot be denied, for
each British man began by being young in his time when all risk has a
glamour. Afterwards, with the course of years, risk became a part of his
daily work; he would have missed it from his side as one misses a loved
companion.

The mere love of adventure is no saving grace. It is no grace at all. It
lays a man under no obligation of faithfulness to an idea and even to his
own self. Roughly