Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-02-20
BY NJ. P. SHIEL

| was to the ship of wood and sails that
II Is already clear is this young man 10
| the ship of steel and steam. That is to
| say, he is its genius. He is more still-he
| is its embodiment. Ralph Waldo Emerson,
| IN one of his essays, points out that occa-
| SlonalIy a man is born who is himself as It
were, the Thing In connection with which
| his activities are employed; thus Nasmyth
| was concentrated Iron, Edison is himself
Electricity, Rudyard himself a light
| house. We may add, John HARDY is him
| self a modern battleShip."
But 1t was reserved for the Daily Tele-
| graph to embody in its ornamented style
something of that shudder of delight with
| which England, through all her breadth
learnt with that mornings sunrise that
she had still q with voice coarse
! enough to proclaim once more to all the
earth her empire of the sea. No style could
! have been too torid to express that day
| the feelings OF the nation; for emotion is
| in its very nature ford; and England was
| IN the grip of emotion.
| The Telegraph sad: No one has vet ac-
! cused this journal of hero-worship; and in
| speaking as We have spoken of Sub-Leu-
! tenant John Hardy-whom We confess we
| have for the first time heard of half an
| hour ago-ft is partly the man whom we
| laud, but, above all, it is the great nation
! that could have produced him We have at
| command some special information about
MI Hardy; and we say with the certainty
| OF knowledge that he IS as essentially an
| English thing the cliffs of Dover or the
| smuts OF the Black Country. No other land
| could have give nbirth to anything at all
| resembling him. He is doubly the child or
| England for he is the child of the sea also.
| The sea is part of England. The oceans are
| not her bOundary-they are her continue
| ton. If one were to ask Mr. Hardy What
! is the breadth of England he would prob
| ably reply, Her breadth is the distance
| between the poles Such, at least is the
| account we have received on good author
/ ity of the temperament of this latest scion
| of an old Hampshire family of thorough
going 'sea-dogs.
Enr hd tHa tlzar,, fS
| said to have an ailraent of the chest; he
| has the typical blue eyes of the English tar
| and very light, wavy hair, which he wears
| rather long. He is small in stature, and
! slim. His face is said TO be the gravest,
| saddest, prettiest girl-face in the land, and
| his disposition in private life is much more
| than usually mild, soft and affectionate.
| Our informant hints at a supposed weak
ness for the fair sex, and confesses that
| at the examination stage of his career
| the man who bids fair to become the ma
| tional hero proved himself far from bril-
| liant
So much we have been able to gather;
and this fact also, that from boyhood
| Hardy has seemed to be deficient in one Of
! the ordinary instincts of humanity-the in
| stinct of fear. Nothing so far has appeared
to have had any tendency toward alarming
| him; to use our informants words, He
| would remain cool il the earth were burst
| ing to pieces Such is the man who has
/ ranged himself on the side of England
! against the allied nations Of the continent.
|
| gradual processes. The moment is ecstat-
| ic--the hour is immense with fate. Let the
| nation for the nonce Hing to the winds its
| old shibboeths of use and won't, and now,
| without delay, proceed to garland with It's
| fairest Iaurels the head which has been Its
| salvation. 1t is certain that but for Mr..
| Hardy we writing here should be writing
/ with boom of cannon in our ears. What
| guerdon is high enough for the man who
| has averted such q doom? Fleet captain
vice admiral-admiral!-th are the hon
orary titles that occur to us, as in no
way commensurate with the reward
! which England owes, and will insist
| upon paying to her dellverer. Nay,
we know little of the English people
| II 1t do not straightway find something
SO akin to its own secret temper some
| thing so precisely like its own inner
self, in John Hardy. and in the cool rash
| ness of john Hardy. and In his contemptu-
| Gus way, and in his audacious gallantry
| and in his homely, Cromwellian grandeur
| of min(i-that a burst of enthusiasm from
the entire nation shall at once proclaim him
its chosen and darling. England, as Mr..
Matthew Arnold said. is nation lin the
| grand style;' John Hardy we do not hest
| tate to say, is a man Sin the grand style"
| 1t will not be surprising If these two, hav-
| ing once come across each other, shall.
without delay, strike up friendship per-
| haps unparalleled in history. The begin
| ring of such friendship we today an
| ncunce."
So the Telegraph The Standard, on the
| other hand, came out with an essay on
| blood. "A democracy without an aTlS-
| tocracy," 1t said, is like an egg without
| salt 1t was necessary for Sub-Lieutenant
| Hardy, before he could annhilate the navfes
| of Europe, TO have behind him a long line
| of ancestors whose home was the sea. He
! is the apex of pyramid, the rest of which
| consists of centuries of the ocean life and
| ocean culture of race. II is blood that
| tells
The Morning Post was the only organ to
| suggest that the country should insist upon
| the Importance of order, and see TO 1t that
/ IL only formally, the young lieutenant
/, should be court-martaied: while the Even
| ing News covered itself with horrid fame
| by saving: by tine goddess of victory
| Nelson has slain his tholNa nds; but by
| Jupiter. Hardy has slain his ten thou
sands
There was no journal which did not join
| in this chorus which rose to greet John
| Hardy as he woke on the 18th of March.
( He was the only person who saw his praises
with anything like equanimity.
| He glanced through three OF the articles.
| then pushed the heap from him.
well Bobbie," he said, ut ds decent to
see ones name all about In the prints. But
what Is 1t all for?''
seThere IL the opinion Of England, said
old Robert. "about son OF John Nelson
Hardy, sir!,
ron ba9ieve thak- THESE whiting follows