250 



THE OPAL SEA 



The ocean 

 steamer. 



The 



steamer 

 putting to 

 sea. 



But however much of actual beauty clings to 

 a sail, and however much of traditional rever- 

 ence bids us scorn an innovation, is there not 

 something to be said for the grim, fire-spitting 

 ocean steamer? In common with all steam de- 

 vices the steamship has come in for a fair share 

 of denunciation; but as a machine, as a resist- 

 less force, is there not something here to stir 

 the pulses? As she sweeps down the harbor 

 and out over the bar, flags streaming, black 

 smoke trailing, wide wake rolling, what could 

 be finer ! She sits low down aft, she rises up 

 clean and keen forward, her cutwater is as eager 

 as a headsman's axe, her smoke stacks have a 

 slant astern as though ready for any wind or 

 wave. What a sense of power is there! What 

 can stop the passage of that dark conqueror! 

 And she moves with no apparent effort. The 

 source of power is not disclosed to the eye. 

 Nor can the ear detect the beat of engines. 

 The steel mass seems to be driven by a force 

 as invisible as resistless. 



No prayers to Oceanus, the parent of the 

 gods, go up when the ocean liner puts to sea. 

 ^olus is not invoked for favorable winds nor 

 are the Tritons and Nereides put in good hu- 

 mor with promises and offerings. The ship 

 of steel and steam seems to care little for the 



