Or some hotch-potch that’s rightly neither,
Let time mak proof.”
Seamen are not saints by any means, but if there be one class of men beyond another who should, in the exercise of their calling, have things made for them as safe and as comfortable as possible, surely it is those “who go down to the sea in ships.” I use the term “seamen” in its broadest sense, including “skipper” and all, for I am not altogether a believer in the witticism of the Irishman who said, “There’s but one good billet on board of a ship and, be japers, the captain always takes it.” The latter’s position is a responsible one, and his duty, where rightly performed, is by far the most important of any. Various circumstances have caused this book to remain “on the stocks” for a considerable time, and now that I launch it out on the great sea of Public Opinion, I cannot give it a better “send-off” than by heartily re-echoing the prayer of the poet:—
“When wilt thou save the seamen,
Great God of mercy—When?
Not shipping kings, but seamen,
Not property, but men!”
Amen.
