There is surely high inspiration in the thought that of all the mighty civilizations that have emerged in these latter days, there is none that dare claim the comprehensive title given to this paper without fear of contradiction, save ourselves. For the function of the Watchman is to keep the peace, to restrain lawlessness, to bring evil-doers to justice, and to hold himself unspotted from even the tiniest speck of injustice. At least these should be his functions, and if they seem to be counsels of perfection, the aiming thereat with persistent courage is continually bringing them nearer a perfect realization. And if this be so with individual watchmen, it is infinitely more so with those typical Watchers of the Empire, of whom I would now speak, the splendid, ubiquitous, and ever-ready British Navy. It would be an uplifting exercise for some of us, widening our outlook upon life, and enlightening us as to the majestic part our country has been called upon to play at this wonderful period of the world’s history, if we were to get a terrestrial globe, a number of tiny white flags, and a list of positions of all our men-o’-war. Then by sticking in a flag for every ship wherever she was stationed, or on passage at the time, we should have a bird’s-eye290 view as it were of the “beats” which our Empire Watchmen patrol unceasingly.  
From end to end of the great Middle Sea wherein we hold but those dots upon the map, Gibraltar and Malta and Cyprus, whose shores bristle with hostile populations, our stately squadrons parade, not on sufferance, but as a right, none daring to say them nay. Their business is peaceful, although they have enormous force ready to use if need be, the duty of keeping Britain’s trade routes clear, that the shuttles weaving the vast web of world-wide trade that we have built up may glide to and fro in security even though envious nations gnash upon us with their teeth, and vainly endeavour by every species of chicane and underhand meanness to rob us of the fruits of centuries of industry. In two Mediterranean countries alone are our ships of war heartily welcome. Italy and Greece remember gratefully our constant friendship. Italians of all classes are acquainted with the practical good-will of Great Britain, and so man-o’-war Jack is sure of warm reception throughout that lovely country. Not that the manner of his reception troubles the worthy tar at all. Oh no. The keynote of the chorus that is perpetually being chanted in the British Navy is duty. The word is seldom mentioned, but better than that, it is lived. It enables the sailor to spend unmurmuringly long periods of absolute torture under the blazing furnace of the Persian Gulf, an oven that while it burns does not dry; where the soaking dews of the night lie thickly upon the decks throughout the scorching day, and are not dispersed because the291 molten air is overloaded with moisture, and life is lived in a vapour-bath. Here you will find the young men of gentle birth who govern in our fighting ships, forgetting their own physical miseries, in the brave effort to make the severe conditions more tolerable to the crews they command. Do their dimmed eyes often in the steaming night turn wistfully westward to the cool green English country-side, where the old home lies embowered amid the ancestral oaks? Why, certainly, but that does not make the young officer’s zeal any weaker, does not damp his ardour to sustain the great traditions which are the pride and glory of the service to which it is his greatest delight to belong.
 
Or creep down the coast of East Africa, throbbing, palpitating under that fervent heat glare, and see the St. George’s Cross proudly waving over the sterns of the gun-boats set by Britain to quell the bloodthirsty Arab’s lust for slavery. Here is manifest such devotion to an ideal, albeit that ideal is never formulated in so many words, as should stir the most prosaic, matter-of-fact minds among us. I well remember—could I ever forget?—a visit I once paid to H.M.S. London, sometime depôt ship at Zanzibar. It was a privilege that I valued highly, not knowing then that with a high courtesy our country’s men-o’-war are always accessible at reasonable times to any citizen who would see with his own eyes how his home is defended and by whom. I was then mate of a trading vessel that had brought supplies from home for the use of the East Indian fleet, and consequently my business took me on board the depôt ship often. First of all I was292 shown the hospital, a long airy apartment on the upper deck, kept as cool as science could devise in that burning climate, and fitted with all the alleviations for sickness that wise skill and forethought could compass. Here they lay, the heroes of the long, long fight, the never-ending battle of freedom against slavery, the men who had left their pleasant land for service under the flag of England against a foreign foe; yes, and far more than that. For we know that they who fight in the deadliest combat with lethal weapons are upheld and swept onward by the fierce joy of strife; so that death when it comes is no terror, and fear vanishes under the pressure of primitive instincts. But here there is no glitter, no glamour of battle. Forgotten by the world, unknown to the immense majority of their countrymen, these Britons suffer and die that the fair fame of their country may live. There, in that miniature hospital, on board H.M.S. London, I saw rows of pale, patient figures, their faces drawn and parchment-like with fever, the deadly malaria of that poisonous coast, while amongst them passed silently doctors and sick-bay attendants, each doing his part in the universal warfare. Passing thence on to the main deck, I came across a bronzed, busy group hoisting up a steam pinnace that had just returned from a cruise among the slimy creeks and backwaters of the mainland and adjacent islands, busily seeking for hunters of human flesh. A dozen men formed her crew, men who had once been white Anglo-Saxons, but were now, after a week’s cruise under such conditions as that, so disguised by ingrained dirt, s............