The sailor is more given to sentiment proper than perhaps any other class of men, and generally speaking a more romantic feeling for woman is cherished on board ship than anywhere else in the world.

If we wish to find in these times quietly romantic enthusiasm, we must be the companion of the sailor on his lonely watch, or listen to him as he lies on the forecastle and talks with _naive_ simplicity about his wife or his sweetheart--how their attachment came about, and what he means to buy for her when he gets into port.

Love on board ship is a more naturally rich and varying theme than it is in the peasant's monotonous life; and being in love, by reason of separation from the object of his love, is a different thing to the sailor, a something more entirely of the heart and the imagination, which does not lose its ideal hue in the wear and tear of everyday use.

A married sailor is always an object of quiet respect to his comrades who have not had means to take the same step themselves; and without exaggeration it may be said that woman is present in her truest sense in the midst of the often outwardly rough life on board ship--warm, loving, and venerated, and surrounded by all the enchantment which distance can supply.

If we are tempted to think otherwise, we have not penetrated to the simple, childlike nature which underlies the sailor's rough exterior.
The exteriors, indeed, in the dancing-room of the Aurora that evening were rough enough.