LAND AND .W.ATER 
September 4, 1915. 
THE RIVER. 
By J. D. 
ribbon of silver 
Symon. 
IV its upper reaches, tf.e river, a ribbon ot silver commerce. Yonder big liner m.glit have been awaiting 
windin- through a rich pastoral country, seemed her cargo, but a closer view revealed new uses Her 
to thos^ who watched it the other day from the name was painted out, yet somethmg m her build came 
window of a railwav carriage to be the utter oddly familiar to the eye. She was an old friend, one 
neiration of all that is'most absorbing in the life who had carried our vagrant bones most pleasantly from 
of to^ay. Amid those secluded glens it was possible another port across summer seas m southern latitudes 
almost toforget a country at death grips. The herdsman ' '- '-- 
and the harvester went about their work as it no other 
CKTupation had called their younger comrades to other 
ifields, and here and there along the banks an occasional 
fisherman tempted the trout to his lure. The stream s 
famous name may not be written here. for. in spite of its 
attributes of immemorial peace, it is a strenuous com- 
baiani. doing a combatant's work to the uttermost, and 
an integral part of the national defence. But. with 
discretion, it may not be quite impossible to sketch some 
little pictures of its majestic service; its wonderful 
exchange of idyllic peace for martial pageantry in its 
passage from the mountains to the sea. 
Us peaceful pictures passed rapidly out of sight as 
the train skirted the higher waters. Then the river re- 
mained for a day or two only an idyllic memory, until 
chance brought its sterner aspect into view with an 
effect heightened by the contrast of that earlier glimpse. 
A perfect August morning brought renewal of acquaint- 
ance. The waters, no longer a thread of silver, now 
poured in darker volume between miles of wharves, 
crowded still, thanks to the Grand Fleet, with the com- 
merce of the world. I'nder the shadow of a noble bridge 
lav a steamer whose romantic name bespoke a trafHc, not 
that of merchandise, uninterrupted by the quarrel of 
the nations. " On board, on board; for shame." The 
admonition of Poloniuscut two-edged, with a new mean- 
ing. But there was good excuse. Thus only could one 
see to advantage what the river held, in its lower reaches, 
of instruction for the present hour. It is good to observe 
every phase of the nation's activity 
here the work is a world's wonder, 
without shame. 
The Panorama Unfolds. 
some three years ago. There was no mistaking her, for 
all her grey disguise and the great gun that now grinned 
abaft. Near her lay one of her sister ships, also in pro- 
at such a time. And 
So on board it was, 
The bell rang, the vessel cast off, and the 
panorama began to unfold with a motion so gradual and 
easy thai the mere spectator seemed, in his conceit, the 
stationary centre of the show. For him the river banks 
moving ever up-stream, as it were, had deigned to unrol 
their mystery while his bark lay idle as a painted boat 
tipon a painted ocean. For a time tlie real heart of tiie 
mystery was withheld. The first miles spoke onlv of a 
great seaport going about its lawful occasions. Here 
were the sliips of every nation, save one, lading and dis- 
charging cargo as industriously and serenely as if the 
.water held no lurking menace beneath the surface. The 
only suggestion of an altered order was to be found in the 
craft of the excepted nation, laid up in durance, and in 
the unusual advertisement of nationalitv, set out in huge 
letters, on the sides of the others. 
It was the hour of high water, and entering vessels 
coming gaily up-stream to their moorings, told of the 
safetv of the outer seas. Here was a boat arriving from Clanging Industry 
far Bilbao; she had had little to fear except in home ^'^"^'ng inausiry 
.waters; but the comparative immunity of even the im 
mediate war zone found its witness in the crowd of 
Scandinavian craft, which, undeterred, were makintr 
VJI^, i^ \ • P^ss^S^e perilous. Armies of stevedores 
sweated a their task, giant cranes swung to and fro ne' 
t^^Ins n? I ,' ^"^'■' ■''''""ting engines brought up long 
onhnbe/andt'" "f ^'"Y"?^ '^ '^^ ''-'^^" -'^'^ baulks 
ot timber and bars of metal. The arts of peace, it seemed 
cess of transformation. The grim game, here for the 
first time visible, would now gain in intensity with every 
yard. If you like, you may read a double meaning into 
the word " yard," but witli the fear of the Censor before 
our eyes, we dare not be more explicit in this place. 
A Region of Colossi. 
For a new region was now sliding past the bulwarks. 
The long quays of merchant traffic had given place to a 
fantastic world of constructive industry. It was a region 
of Colossi, where man stood dwarfed before his own 
many inventions. Here was the Iron Age in its latest 
magnificence, clangorous, urgent, the last glorification 
of the mere machine. Far-splitting was this toil, in- 
cessant the clang of hammers and the quicker, more 
regular, pulse of the pneumatic riveting machine, teach- 
ing iron to swim. " Such impress of shipwrights, whose 
sore task does not divide the Sunday from the week " 
—the line from " Hamlet " rose irresistibly, although 
the din was harsher than the carpenter's hammer-music 
that went to the making of the old wooden walls. Strange 
workshops these, with their soaring traceries of knitted 
steel, all too slender it might seem at times for the burden 
put upon them, but still adequate in their perfect bracing, 
which told in every line of a scientific application of the 
parallelogram of forces, that ancient bogey of now half- 
forgotten days when fpr one's sins one had to learn a 
little mathematics. But the eternal law of compensation 
came in to make the old scrap of knowledge pleasantly 
sugg€*ive and explanatory of this weird forest of 
-(j'irders. It was a sight full of encouragement, corrobora- 
tive of many public speeches, in which those in authority 
have assured the country that Britannia now more than 
ever is equal to her foremost task of ruleiship. 
Of the visible resulus of that preparation it would be 
pleasant to write in detail, but the time is not yet. An/ 
account, however, could hardly be condemned on the 
ground of its encouraging and comforting the Kini.'s 
enemies. Rather would it tend to their most complete 
discouragement, but the river must be allowed to kee[) 
its open secret as far as these notes are concerned. Some- 
thing of its energies is known to those who appreciate 
the information least, and their boast has gone forth tliat 
certain new creations — one in particular — are never to be 
allowed to reach those spheres of influence where they 
will be most useful, but such dark sayings must be taken 
at their face value. The hazard of war is. to be sure, tiie 
hazard of war. but it is duly discounted in the calcula- 
tions of the expert. 
.were paramount. 
storv^"Vh! f".' J'-"'^ ""''^ ^^^' t''^ 'beginning of another 
story. The first hint of difference still held the link of 
The River smiles and redoubles her efforts at rein- 
forcement. Her power and skill, perfected through 
many years of peace, are a tower of strength to the 
nation. And so our boat and the August morning wear 
pleasantly along. Level meadowlands. only a little 
spoiled by the proximity of grimy labour, gives place to 
the hives of clanging industry and the view widens across 
a gently undulating country, with fair houses set in 
ancient woods. Only for a little, however. As the stream 
broadens and deepens, another range of Titanic work- 
shops creeps into view, and here the mightiest tasks are 
afoot. The biggest conceptions of the' naval architect 
IB 
