The only criticism of a ship which I have never heard questioned, is that she is a compromise. That is to say, no ship has ever been endowed with the speed, armament, protection, range of action, etc., which the particular specialist concerned admitted to be in accordance with his ideals. It follows that there are sufficient joints in her harness to offer targets enough to provide for the efforts of the most prolific inventor.

To-day, with the impetus gathered in the late war, I have been told that there have been more new inventions since its termination than there were during its course. Thus it comes about that the effective life of a ship is being continually shortened. The Dreadnought, responsible for much, was built in 1906; but had been far surpassed by 1914.

Her first illustrious ancestor, of 1573, rendered stout service to her country for seventy-two years; and at the age of fifteen helped to save her country from a danger, in some respects even greater than that from which we have recently been delivered. It is of interest to note that she came into being in obedience to the same law as her most recent namesake, and was, too, something of a new departure, as King Philip was informed. She was one of the guifts' bestowed upon the country by 'secondary means,' when the danger looming ahead was abundantly revealed in the Massacre of St Bartholomew. The whole fleet in which she served, in 1588, could probably have been expeditiously disposed of by a few of our most venerable cruisers, at no risk whatever to themselves. The deliverance, however, was as great; while the odds against victory seemed considerably greater. It will be seen then, though this appears to be by no means generally recognised, that the crux of the problem is relative strengths. Who shall be materially greatest? A little thought should convince us that the solution of our difficulties lies in a different realm.

The existence of such a realm will be admitted, I think, by those even who do not consider its exploration practical; and it will be seen, in view of the pace at. which things may conceivably move, that material strength will ultimately depend upon who has the most money to spend. And if from this is deduced the idea that Sea Power, the greatest instrument for good or evil

that exists, as Mahan has shown, and all that it means to mankind, is simply a question of the wealth necessary to obtain it, we arrive at a conclusion entirely opposed to the truth contained in the lines quoted at the head of this article. Power so derived, actually for its own sake, will be neither available nor beneficial; for it is debarred from any claim to the grace to use it aright, the grace which has been vouchsafed to us in the sea-spirit through all our long history, and which will be, and has been, vouchsafed to the seamen of all nations in proportion to their needs, be their fleets large or small.

'In accordance with the best traditions of the Service' is the customary description of the real secret of Sea Power; but it is a secret very rarely discussed, and still less emphasised, in Naval Histories of the usual type. Mahan, however, puts the matter in a nutshell when he refers to sailors as 'a strange race apart, neither themselves nor their calling ever understood.' Occasionally, even somewhat apologetically, naval historians lapse into quotation of incidents which point to the prevalence and continuity of a spirit upon which the whole of Sea Power depends, as a matter extraneous to the consideration of questions of strategy and operations which it is their province to analyse, but without which neither of these would be possible. The sea spirit was once defined to me by a civilian gifted with insight and imagination as 'almost a religion.' Indeed, I often think it first woke to consciousness at a time when the freedom of the seas and the freedom of our faith were so interwoven in the minds of those who were destined to defend them, that it is often impossible to distinguish between the two as the guiding motives.

The first definite record of the spirit occurs in the diary of one who was present when the doctrine was actually enunciated, and its abiding fruit is the universal brotherhood or fellowship of seamen. There was no sign of it that morning in 1578; nothing, indeed, but the most deadly discord. The little ship concerned was the pioneer of the English into the new world, when the success of the venture and all that it has meant and still may mean to mankind, hung in the balance.

That the dissension had been deliberately fostered to bar the grim gates through which she must pass, only

made it the more difficult to cope with. And at the crisis, without recourse to any material forces, a man alone changed the course of history.

'Our general made divers speeches to the whole company,' we read, persuading us to love, unity, and regard of our voyage, and for the better confirmation thereof, willed every man the next Sunday following to prepare himself to receive the communion as Christian brethren and friends ought to do, which was done, in very reverend sort; and so with good contentment every man went about his business.'

And so the gates of the new world were not forced as Magellan had forced them; but unlocked, and Drake and his men in the Golden Hind' passed through. Truly, almost a religion.

Let us search for a few moments in the by-ways of our sea-story and we shall find traces and evidence of the workings of the sea-spirit which has been vouchsafed for the guidance of those who use the seas, that under its influence they might use their 'guifts' aright. Much we shall find that seems hostile; but where the spirit has been greatest, so also have been the accomplishments, and by no means always in battle.

The Here, then, is an example, taken at random. four days' fight of 1666 is over, and Samuel Pepys has attended the funeral of Sir Christopher Myngs, who fell, on the last day, on board the 'Victory.' Mortally wounded in the throat, he had remained on deck, holding the wound with his hand, that he might inspire his men to the last. The famous diarist, after noting the absence of any of 'quality' at the funeral, proceeds:

"There happened this extraordinary case, one of the most romantique that ever I heard in my life and could not have believed but that I did see it, which was this: about a dozen able lusty proper men come to the coach side with tears in their eyes, and one of them that spoke for the rest begun and says to Sir W. Coventry; We are here a dozen of us that have long known and loved and served our dead Commander, Sir Christopher Myngs, and have now done the last office of laying him in the ground. We would be glad we had any other to offer after him and in revenge of him. All we have is our lives; if you will please to get His Royal Highness to give us a fire-ship among us all, here is a dozen of us,

out of which choose you one to be Commander and the rest of us, whoever he is, will serve him and if possible do that which shall show our memory to our dead Commander.'

As we pass on, a remark of Sir George Rooke's has more in it than many eloquent sermons. His lawyer had commented on the unexpectedly small amount of money he was disposing of in his will. 'Not much,' said Sir George; but what I have was honestly gotten and never cost a sailor a tear.'

Later again, and this instance is so well known that it is only necessary to mention the name of the 'Centurion.' Sailing with every conceivable disadvantage and handicap, with her crew mostly sick and maimed, she achieved an imperishable renown through the spirit which her captain infused into his men. Through plague, pestilence, tempest, and disaster, moves the figure of George Anson, in turn captain, nurse, doctor, carpenter, and general comforter; the embodiment of that spirit of fellowship in service which brought his ship home crowned with honour and glory.

Traceable directly to that which one of his officers, among many, had learned and handed on, is the story of Admiral Duncan, pupil of Keppel, and the crew of the 'Venerable' in the face of an apparently impossible task. And here the spirit shines very brightly, as it penetrates the gloom of the clouds which had gathered and burst in the mutiny at the Nore. Even the 'Venerable' had not altogether escaped the prevailing epidemic, which had left her with only the Adamant' in company to blockade the whole Dutch Fleet in the Texel. A week after the symptoms had appeared on board, Duncan addressed his men; no great writer, the draft of his speech has come to us on the backs of envelopes and odd scraps of paper, and its tenour may be gathered from its conclusion: 'God bless you all, and may He always have us under His gracious protection and make us better men.' Note all that is implied in 'us.'

The reply which he evoked is too long to quote in full; but the following extracts will show the atmosphere created:

'Most honoured and worthy Sir-Not having the gift of speech of accosting you in a proper manner, we the ship's

company of the "Venerable" humbly implore your honour's pardon with hearts full of gratitude and tears in our eyes for the offence we have given to the worthyest of Commanders, who has proved a father to us, and as such we shall always honour you. Should it be your honour's orders to go to sea, and should it be our fortune to fall in with the enemy we flatter ourselves that there is not one man on board the "Venerable" but what would lose the last drop of his blood in his body before they should obtain any victory over us. ... We, therefore, pray and put our trust in the Almighty God that it may be instilled in our minds the dangerous snares we have so lately escaped from, which we are too conscious is unbecoming the character of a Christian in whose belief we are taught, we have every reason to return you hearty thanks for bringing to our memory the indiscreet behaviour of our conduct which was not becoming the character of British seamen.'

So the tradition held, and held so firmly, that the two ships waited alone, by faith, the coming of the whole Dutch Fleet, where the soundings were such that the Admiral's flag, as Adam Duncan said, 'would continue to fly above the shoal water after the ship and company had disappeared.' Almost a religion. And in due course, as they awaited that which did not fall, the spirit woke again, and one by one the Fleet returned in time for the Venerable' to lead them, in quite unorthodox fashion, to the victory of Camperdown.

Yet once more, and this in the presence of no human foe; but face to face with the daily perils of their calling.

On Christmas Day 1789, the 'Guardian,' twelve days out from the Cape of Good Hope, collided with an iceberg. In a sinking condition, and apparently with only a few hours of life left to her, three boats put off to take their chance, and Captain Riou sat down on the slanting deck to write a last letter to the Admiralty that they might know the traditions had held.

'Sir,-If ever any part of the officers or crew of the "Guardian" should ever survive to get home, I have only to say that their conduct after the fatal stroke against an island of ice was admirable and wonderful in everything that related to their duties, considered either as private men or His Majesty's servants.'