The Childishness and Brutality of the Time; Some Plain Truths in Plain Language. Supplemented by Sundry Discursive Essays and Narratives (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1883. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XVII. OUR MODERN NAVY SYSTEM. A STRANGE change has come over the character of the British seaman. He has grown more collected, less uproarious, more genteel. His ancient lion-like spirit has, in a certain sense, been combed out of him. He is infinitely less preposterous. He dances no hornpipes now. He does not stare so much at civilised things as he used. His loud laugh is sobering into a simper. This notable alteration in the character of the regulation British sailor, according to the old ideas, is by no means surprising when we recall the rate at which all England has moved ahead. Ships? Once there were ships; and most beautiful objects they were, sailing over the seas. Let us acknowledge the fact that, in this modern mechanical day, there are no such things as ships; all is steam now, and steam requires machinery to suit it. Steam has superseded wind as the motive power. There were once windmills. I have myself seen some; but windmills--and the country, according to the true ideas of the country--have almost disappeared. I have looked at a windmill in the twilight, and have nearly as equally thought it a giant as ever did Don Quixote. Mills still grind, but these are steam mills that grind. There are innumerable waterfalls more or less picturesque, but watermills, especially fine old ruined watermills, are in these times objects for pictures and story-books. In a parallel manner nearly all the picturesqueness, all the mighty grandeur of our old-fashioned men of war--indeed the picturesque beauty of all sailing-ships--is fast becoming a thing of the past. The war-ship of former times, when in full-sail, looked truly almost a sensitive gigantic object--real in its splendour, real in its graceful, its grand life. "How have the mighty fallen."1 No...