SAMUEL PURCHAS 1575 (?)—-1626 THE SERVICES OF THE SEA GOD hath combined the sea and land into one globe. So their joint combination and mutual assistance is necessary to secular happiness and glory. The sea covereth one-half of this patrimony of man, whereof God set him in possession when he said, "Replenish the earth, and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.' And when the sea had, as it were, rebelled against rebellious man, so that all in whose nostrils was the breath of life, and all that was in the dry land died, yet then did it all that time endure the yoke of man in that first of ships, the ark of Noah; and soon after, the goad also, when God renewed the former covenant, and imposed the fear and dread of man upon every beast of the earth, and upon every fowl of the air, upon all that moveth upon the earth and upon all the fishes of the sea. Thus should man at once lose half his inheritance if the art of navigation did not enable him to manage this untamed beast, and with the bridle of the winds and saddle of his shipping to make him serviceable. Now for the services of the sea, they are innumerable: it is the great purveyer of the world's commodities to our use, conveyer of the excess of rivers, uniter by traffic of all nations: it presents the eye with the diversified colours and motions, and is, as it were with rich brooches, adorned with various islands: it is an open field for merchandise in peace; a pitched field for the most dreadful fights of war; yields diversity of fish and fowl for diet, materials for wealth, medicine for health, simples for medicines, pearls and other jewels for ornament, amber and ambergris for delight, the wonders of the Lord in the deep for instruction, variety of creatures for use, multiplicity of natures for contemplation, diversity of accidents for admiration, compendiousness to the way, to full bodies healthful evacuation, to the thirsty earth fertile moisture, to distant friends pleasant meeting, to weary persons delightful refreshing, to studious and religious minds a map of knowledge, mystery of temperance, exercise of continence, school of prayer, meditation, devotion, and sobriety; refuge to the distressed, portage to the merchant, passage to the traveller, customs to the prince, springs, lakes, rivers, to the earth; it hath on it tempests and calms to chastise the sins, to exercise the faith, of seamen; manifold affections in itself, to affect and stupefy the subtlest philosopher; sustaineth movable fortresses for the soldier; maintaineth (as in our island) a wall of defence and watery garrison to guard the state; entertains the sun with vapours, the moon with obsequiousness, the stars also with a natural looking-glass, the sky with clouds, the air with temperateness, the soil with suppleness, the rivers with tides, the hills with moisture, the valleys with fertility; containeth most diversified matter for meteors, most multiform shapes, most various, numerous kinds, most immense, difformed, deformed, unformed monsters; once (for why should I longer detain you?) the sea yields action to the body, meditation to the mind, the world to the world, all parts thereof to each part, by this art of arts, navigation. His Pilgrimage. SIR THOMAS OVERBURY 1581-1613 CHARACTER OF THE SAILOR A SAILOR is a pitched piece of reason, caulked and tackled, and only studied to dispute with tempests. He is part of his own provision, for he lives ever pickled. A fair wind is the substance of his creed, and fresh water the burden of his prayers. He is naturally ambitious, for he is ever climbing: out of which as naturally he fears, for he is ever flying. Time and he are everywhere ever contending who shall arrive first. He is well winded, for he tires the day and outruns darkness. His life is like a hawk's, the best part mewed; and if he live till three coats is a master. He sees God's wonders in the deep, but so as rather they appear his playfellows than stirrers of his zeal. Nothing but hunger and hard rocks can convert him, and then but his upper deck neither; for his hold neither fears nor hopes. His sleeps are but reprievals of his dangers, and when he wakes, 'tis but next stage to dying. His wisdom is the coldest part about him, for it ever points to the North; and it lies lowest, which makes his valour every tide o'erflow it. In a storm 'tis disputable whether the noise be more his or the elements', and which will first leave scolding; on which side of the ship he may be saved best, whether his faith be starboard faith or larboard, or the helm at that time not all his hope of heaven. His keel is the emblem of his conscience. Till it be split he never repents; and then no farther than the land allows him. His language is a new confusion, and all his thoughts new nations. His body and his ship are both one burden. Nor is it known who stows most wine, or rolls most-only the ship is guided. He has no stern. A barnacle and he are bred together; both of one nature, and, 'tis feared, one reason. Upon any but a wooden horse1 he cannot ride, and, if the wind blow against him, he dare not2. He swarms up to his seat as to a sail-yard, and cannot sit unless he bear a flagstaff. If ever he be broken to the saddle, 'tis but a voyage still, for he mistakes the bridle for a bowline and is ever turning his horse-tail. He can pray but 'tis by rote, not faith; and, when he would, he dares not, for his brackish belief hath made that ominous. A rock or a quicksand plucks him before he be ripe; else, is he gathered to his friends at Wapping. Characters. 1 SIR WILLIAM MONSON 1568-1643 THE CHOICE OF CAPTAINS THE experienced, valiant, sea-soldier and mariner, who knows how to manage a ship and maintain a sea fight judicially, for defence of himself and offence of his enemy, is only fit to be a captain and commander at sea. For, without good experience, a man otherwise courageous may soon destroy himself and his company. The sea language is not soon learned, much less understood, being only proper to him that has served his apprenticeship. Besides that, a boisterous sea and 1 Horse-"A frame of wood the riggers make use of to woold ships masts."-Blanckley, Naval Expositor. 2 He dare not ride at anchor if the wind blow against him. stormy weather will make a man not bred on it so queasy sick that it bereaves him of legs, stomach and courage, so much as to fight with his meat. And in such weather, when he hears the seamen cry, starboard or port, or to bide a loof, or flat a sheet, or haul home a clue line, he thinks he hears a barbarous speech which he conceives not the meaning of. Suppose the best and ablest bred seaman should buckle on armour and mount a courageous great horse, and so undertake the leading of a troop of horse, he would [no doubt] be accounted very indiscreet, and men would judge he could perform but very weak service; neither could his soldiers hope of good security, being under an ignorant captain that knows not scarce how to rein his horse, much less to take advantage for execution or retreat. Yet it is apparent to be far more easy to attain experience for land service than on the sea. The bred seaman is for the most part hardy and undaunted, ready to adventure any desperate action, be it good or bad; as prodigal of his blood, into whatsoever humour his commander will draw him unto if he loves or fears him. The seamen's desire is to be commanded by those that understand their labour, laws and customs, thereby expecting reward or punishment according to their deserts. The seamen are stubborn or perverse when they perceive their commander is ignorant of the discipline of the sea, and cannot speak to them in their own language. That commander who is bred a seaman, and of approved government, by his skill in choice of his company will save twenty in the hundred, and perform better service than he can possibly do that understands not perfectly how to direct his officers under him. Naval Tracts. |