Charles Osborn, when at home in the holydays, had a visit from a schoolfellow who was just entered as a midshipman on board of a man-of-war. Tom Hardy (that was his name) was a free-hearted, spirited lad, and a favourite among his companions; but he never liked his book, and had left school ignorant of almost everything he came there to learn. What was worse, he had got a contempt for learning of all kinds, and was fond of showing it. “What does your father mean,” says he, to Charles, “to keep you moping and studying over things of no use in the world but to plague folks?—Why can’t you go into his majesty’s service like me, and be made a gentleman of? You are old enough, and I know you are a lad of spirit.” This kind of talk made some impression upon young Osborn. He became less attentive to the lessons his father set him, and less willing to enter into instructive conversation. This change gave his father much concern; but as he knew the cause, he thought it best, instead of employing direct authority, to attempt to give a new impression to his son’s mind, which might counteract the effect of his companion’s suggestions.

Being acquainted with an East India captain, who was on the point of sailing, he went with his son to pay him a farewell visit on board his ship. They were shown all about the vessel, and viewed all the preparations for so long a voyage. They saw her weigh anchor and unfurl her sails; and they took leave of their friend amid the shouts of the seamen and all the bustle of departure.

Charles was highly delighted with this scene, and as they were returning could think and talk of nothing else. It was easy, therefore, for his father to lead him into the following train of discourse:—

After Charles had been warmly expressing his admiration of the grand sight of a large ship completely fitted out and getting under sail, “I do not wonder,” said his father, “that you are so much struck with it; it is, in reality, one of the finest spectacles created by human skill, and the noblest triumph of art over untaught nature. Near two thousand years ago, when Julius Cesar came over to this island, he found the natives in possession of no other kind of vessel than a sort of canoe, formed of wickerwork covered with hides, no bigger than a man or two could carry. But the largest ship in Cesar’s fleet was not more superior to these, than the Indiaman you have been seeing is to what that was. Our savage ancestors ventured only to paddle along the rivers and coasts, or cross small arms of the sea in calm weather; and Cesar himself would have been alarmed to be a few days out of sight of land. But the ship we have just left is going by itself to the opposite side of the globe, prepared to encounter the tempestuous winds and mountainous waves of the vast Southern ocean, and to find its way to its destined port, though many weeks must pass with nothing in view but sea and sky. Now what do you think can be the cause of this prodigious difference in the powers of man at one period and another?”

Charles was silent.

Fa. Is it not that there is a great deal more knowledge in one than in the other?

Ch. To be sure it is.

Fa. Would it not, think you, be as impossible for any number of men untaught, by their utmost efforts, to build and navigate such a ship as we have seen, as to fly through the air?

Ch. I suppose it would.

Fa. That we may be the more sensible of this, let us consider how many arts and professions are necessary for this purpose. Come—you shall begin to name them, and if you forget any, I will put you in mind. What is the first?

Ch. The ship-carpenter, I think.

Fa. True—what does he do?

Ch. He builds the ship.

Fa. How is that done?

Ch. By fastening the planks and beams together.

Fa. But do you suppose he can do this as a common carpenter makes a box or set of shelves?

Ch. I do not know.

Fa. Do you not think that such a vast bulk requires a good deal of contrivance to bring it into shape, and fit it for all its purposes?

Ch. Yes.

Fa. Some ships, you have heard, sail quicker than others—some bear storms better—some carry more lading—some draw less water—and so on. You do not suppose all these things are left to chance?

Ch. No.

Fa. In order to produce these effects with certainty, it is necessary to study proportions very exactly, and to lay down an accurate scale by mathematical lines and figures after which to build the ship. Much has been written upon this subject, and nice calculations have been made of the resistance a ship meets with in making way through the water, and the best means of overcoming it; also of the action of the wind on the sails, and their action in pushing on the ship by means of the masts. All these must be understood by a perfect master of ship-building.

Ch. But I think I know ship-builders who have never had an education to fit them for understanding these things.

Fa. Very likely; but they have followed by rote the rules laid down by others; and as they work merely by imitation, they cannot alter or improve as occasion may require. Then, though common merchant-ships are trusted to such builders, yet, in constructing men-of-war and Indiamen persons of science are always employed. The French, however, attend to this matter more than we do, and, in consequence, their ships generally sail better than ours.

Ch. But need a captain of a ship know all these things?

Fa. It may not be absolutely necessary; yet occasions may frequently arise in which it would be of great advantage for him to be able to judge and give direction in these matters. But suppose the ship built—what comes next?

Ch. I think she must be rigged.

Fa. Well—who are employed for this purpose?

Ch. Mast-makers, ropemakers, sailmakers, and I know not how many other people.

Fa. These are all mechanical trades; and though in carrying them on much ingenuity has been applied in the invention of machines and tools, yet we will not stop to consider them. Suppose her, then, rigged—what next?

Ch. She must take in her guns and powder.

Fa. Stop there and reflect how many arts you have now set to work. Gunpowder is one of the greatest inventions of modern times, and what has given such a superiority to civilized nations over the barbarous? An English frigate, surrounded by the canoes of all the savages in the world, would easily beat them off by means of her guns; and if Cesar were to come again to England with his fleet, a battery of cannon would sink all his ships, and set his legions a swimming in the sea. But the making of gunpowder, and the casting of cannon, are arts that require an exact knowledge of the science of Chymistry.

Ch. What is that?

Fa. It comprehends the knowledge of all the properties of metals and minerals, salts, sulphur, oils, and gums, and of the action of fire, and water, and air upon all substances, and the effects of mixing different things together. Gunpowder is a mixture of three things only; saltpetre or nitre, sulphur or brimstone, and charcoal. But who could have thought such a wonderful effect would have been produced by it?

Ch. Was it not first discovered by accident?

Fa. Yes; but it was by one who was making chymical experiments, and many more experiments have been employed to bring it to perfection.

Ch. But need a captain know how to make gunpowder and cannon?

Fa. It is not necessary, though it may often be useful to him. However, it is quite necessary that he should know how to employ them. Now the sciences of gunnery and fortification depend entirely upon mathematical principles; for by these are calculated the direction of a ball through the air, the distance it would reach to, and the force with which it will strike any thing. All engineers, therefore, must be good mathematicians.

Ch. But I think have heard of gunners being little better than common men.

Fa. True—there is a way of doing that business, as well as many others, by mere practice: and an uneducated man may acquire skill in pointing a cannon, as well as in shooting with a common gun. But this is only in ordinary cases, and an abler head is required to direct. Well—now suppose your ship completely fitted out for sea, and the wind blowing fair; how will you navigate her?

Ch. I would spread the sails, and steer by the rudder.

Fa. Very well—but how would you find your way to the port you are bound for?

Ch. That I cannot tell.

Fa. Nor, perhaps, can I make you exactly comprehend it; but I can show you enough to convince you that it is an affair that requires much knowledge and early study. In former times, when a vessel left the sight of land, it was steered by observation of the sun by day, and the moon and stars by night. The sun, you know, rises in the east, and sets in the west; and at noon, in these parts of the world, it is exactly south of us. These points, therefore, may be found out when the sun shines. The moon and stars vary: however, their place in the sky may be known by exact observation. Then, there is one star that always points to the north pole, and is therefore called the pole-star. This was of great use in navigation, and the word pole-star is often used by the poets to signify a sure guide. Do you recollect the description in Homer’s Odyssey, when Ulysses sails away by himself from the island of Calypso—how he steers by the stars?

Ch. I think I remember the lines in Pope’s translation.

Fa. Repeat them, then.

Ch.

Fa. Very well; they are fine lines, indeed! You see, then, how long ago sailors thought it necessary to study astronomy. But as it frequently happens, especially in stormy weather, that the stars are not to be seen, this method was subject to great uncertainty, which rendered it dangerous to undertake distant voyages. At length, near 500 years since, a property was discovered in a mineral, called the magnet or loadstone, which removed the difficulty. This was, its polarity, or quality of always pointing to the poles of the earth, that is, due north and south. This it can communicate to any piece of iron; so that a needle well rubbed in a particular manner by a loadstone, and then balanced upon its centre so as to turn round freely, will always point to the north. With an instrument called a mariner’s compass, made of one of these needles, and a card marked with all the points—north, south, east, west, and the divisions between these, a ship may be steered to any part of the globe.

Ch. It is a very easy matter, then.

Fa. Not quite so easy, neither. In a long voyage, cross or contrary winds blow a ship out of her direct course, so that without nice calculations both of the straight track she has gone, and all the deviations from it, the sailors would not know where they were, nor to what point to steer. It is also frequently necessary to take observations, as they call it; that is, to observe with an instrument where the sun’s place in the sky is at noon, by which they can determine the latitude they are in. Other observations are necessary to determine their longitude. What these mean, I can show you upon the globe. It is enough now to say that, by means of both together, they can tell the exact spot they are on at any time; and then, by consulting their map, and setting their compass, they can steer right to the place they want. But all this requires a very exact knowledge of astronomy, the use of the globes, mathematics, and arithmetic, which you may suppose is not to be acquired without much study. A great number of curious instruments have been invented to assist in these operations; so that there is scarcely any matter in which so much art and science have been employed as in navigation; and none but a very learned and civilized nation can excel in it.

Ch. But how is Tom Hardy to do? for I am pretty sure he does not understand any of these things.

Fa. He must learn them, if he means to come to anything in his profession. He may, indeed, head a pressgang, or command a boat’s crew without them; but he will never be fit to take charge of a man-of-war, or even a merchant-ship.

Ch. However, he need not learn Latin and Greek.

Fa. I cannot say, indeed, that a sailor has occasion for those languages; but a knowledge of Latin makes it much easier to acquire all modern languages; and I hope you do not think them unnecessary to him.

Ch. I did not know they were of much importance.

Fa. No! Do you think that one who may probably visit most countries in Europe, and their foreign settlements, should be able to converse in no other language than his own? If the knowledge of languages is not useful to him, I know not to whom it is so. He can hardly do at all without knowing some; and the more the better.

Ch. Poor Tom! then I doubt he has not chosen so well as he thinks.

Fa. I doubt so, too.

Here ended the conversation. They soon after reached home, and Charles did not forget to desire his father to show him on the globe what longitude and latitude meant.