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it would do most good.  Had the Storstad carried such a “pudding” proportionate to her size (say, two feet diameter in the thickest part) across her stern, and hung above the level of her hawse-pipes, there would have been an accident certainly, and some repair-work for the nearest ship-yard, but there would have been no loss of life to deplore.
    It seems almost too simple to be true, but I assure you that the statement is as true as anything can be.  We shall see whether the lesson will be taken to heart.  We shall see.  There is a Commission of learned men sitting to consider the subject of saving life at sea.  They are discussing bulkheads, boats, davits, manning, navigation, but I am willing to bet that not one of them has thought of the humble “pudding.”  They can make what rules they like.  We shall see if, with that disaster calling aloud to them, they will make the rule that every steamship should carry a permanent fender across her stern, from two to four feet in diameter in its thickest part in proportion to the size of the ship.  But perhaps they may think the thing too rough and unsightly for this scientific and æsthetic age.  It certainly won’t look very pretty but I make bold to say it will save more lives at sea than any amount of the Marconi installations which are being forced on the shipowners on that very ground — the safety of lives at sea.
    We shall see!
    * * * * *
     
    To the Editor of the Daily Express .
    SIR,
    As I fully expected, this morning’s post brought me not a few letters on the subject of that article of mine in the Illustrated London News .  And they are very much what I expected them to be.
    I shall address my reply to Captain Littlehales, since obviously he can speak with authority, and speaks in his own name, not under a pseudonym.  And also for the reason that it is no use talking to men who tell you to shut your head for a confounded fool.  They are not likely to listen to you.
    But if there be in Liverpool anybody not too angry to listen, I want to assure him or them that my exclamatory line, “Was there no one on board either of these ships to think of dropping a fender — etc.,” was not uttered in the spirit of blame for anyone.  I would not dream of blaming a seaman for doing or omitting to do anything a person sitting in a perfectly safe and unsinkable study may think of.  All my sympathy goes to the two captains; much the greater share of it to Captain Kendall, who has lost his ship and whose load of responsibility was so much heavier!  I may not know a great deal, but I know how anxious and perplexing are those nearly end-on approaches, so infinitely more trying to the men in charge than a frank right-angle crossing.
    I may begin by reminding Captain Littlehales that I, as well as himself, have had to form my opinion, or rather my vision, of the accident, from printed statements, of which many must have been loose and inexact and none could have been minutely circumstantial.  I have read the reports of the Times and the Daily Telegraph , and no others.  What stands in the columns of these papers is responsible for my conclusion — or perhaps for the state of my feelings when I wrote the Illustrated London News article.
    From these sober and unsensational reports, I derived the impression that this collision was a collision of the slowest sort.  I take it, of course, that both the men in charge speak the strictest truth as to preliminary facts.  We know that the Empress of Ireland was for a time lying motionless.  And if the captain of the Storstad stopped his engines directly the fog came on (as he says he did), then taking into account the adverse current of the river, the Storstad , by the time the two ships sighted each other again, must have been barely moving over the ground .  The “over the ground” speed is the only one that matters in this discussion.  In fact, I represented her to myself as just creeping on ahead — no more.  This, I contend, is an imaginative view (and we can form no other) not utterly absurd for a seaman to adopt.
    So much for the imaginative view of the sad occurrence which caused me to speak of the fender, and be chided for it in unmeasured terms.  Not by Captain Littlehales, however, and I wish to reply to what he says with all possible deference.  His illustration borrowed from boxing is very apt, and in a certain sense makes for my contention.  Yes.  A blow delivered with a boxing-glove