The relations of trade, too, have changed with the changes of Science.  We were once gathered with the group of travellers who are wont to smoke the cigar of peace beside the pilot-house of one of our noble Sound steamers.  As we rounded the Battery and sped swiftly up the East River, the noblest avenue of New York, lined with the true palaces of her merchant-princes,—­an avenue which by its solid and truthful architecture half atones for the flimsiness of its land structures,—­as we passed the ocean steamships lying at the “Hook,” the sea-captains about me began to talk of the American triumphs of speed.  “They say to the Englishmen now,” said one, “that we’re going to take the berths out of the ‘Pacific.’” (She had just made the then crack passage.) “When the English fellows ask, ’What for?’—­they say, ’Because Collins intends to run her for a day-boat.’” This extravaganza raised a laugh; but one of the older brethren shook his head solemnly and sadly.  “It’s all very well,” said he; “but what with a steamer twice a week, and your telegraph to New Orleans, they know what’s going on at Liverpool as well as if they were at Prince’s Dock.  It don’t pay now to lay a week alongside the levee on the chance of five cents for cotton.”

It was a text that suggested a long homily.  The shipmaster was degraded from his old position of the merchant’s friend, confidential agent, and often brother-merchant.  He was to become a mere conductor, to take the ship from port to port.  No longer identified with the honor and success of a great and princely house, with the old historic kings of the Northwest Coast, or of Canton, or of Calcutta, he sinks into a mere navigator, and a smuggler of Geneva watches or Trench embroideries.

We state facts.  Thus much has Science done to deteriorate the men of the sea.  It has robbed them of all the noblest parts of their calling.  It has taken away the spirit of adventure, the love of enterprise, and the manly spirit which braved unknown dangers.  It has destroyed their interest by its new-modelling of trade; it has divided labor, and is constantly striving to solve the problem, How to work a ship without requiring from the sailor any courage or head-work, or anything, in short, but mere muscle.  It interferes with the healthful relations of officer and man.  The docks of Liverpool are a magnificent work, but they necessitate the driving of the seaman from his ship into an atmosphere reeking with pollution.  The steam-tugs of New York are a wonderful convenience, but they help to further many a foul scheme of the Cherry-Street crimps and land-sharks.

For all this Science owes a remedy.  It must be in a scientific way.  We have indicated some of the leading causes of the decline of the seaman’s character.  The facts are very patent.  Step into any shipping-office, or consult any sea-captain of your acquaintance, and you will have full evidence of what we say.