they serve to blind the gunners to all objects save those in the direct rays of the lights. A torpedo attack at night also calls for the most perfect 'fire discipline' on the part of the guns' crews of the ships assailed; and on many occasions during our own and foreign manœuvres, ships in a fleet have fired on one another in the confusion existing at the time. In this connection it is interesting to remember that in the Japanese accounts of the night attack on Port Arthur, the Russian ships continued firing wildly long after the destroyers had started off to rejoin their own fleet, and it would not be surprising, in the circumstances, if on this occasion not all the injuries inflicted on the Russians were delivered by the Japanese. In carrying out torpedo operations in a channel frequented by friend and foe alike, the commanders of torpedo vessels experience the greatest difficulty in distinguishing the identity of a vessel approaching at night. In war time it is, for obvious reasons, the practice to cruise about with every light carefully obscured, and, if with a fleet, the only indication which an officer of the watch has of the position of the ship ahead of him is from the small reflection which she throws on the surface of the water from a specially constructed lamp suspended over her wake. All distinguishing lights are generally abolished, as their use only serves to reveal the presence of the ship herself to the enemy's torpedo boats; consequently, when the commander of one of the latter vessels sees the black hull of a vessel looming out of the darkness, his embarrassment may be easily imagined; unless, indeed, he knows for certain that only the enemy's ships are cruising in those waters. It is inevitable, in fact, that mistakes of this character are likely to occur in every naval campaign where torpedo vessels are used by the belligerents.

Although the improvements effected in the Whitehead have added considerably to the practical possibilities of torpedo boat warfare, the change is destined to be also greatly felt in its use from large ships. The strategical considerations thereby involved are too complicated and technical to be properly included within the scope of this article; but there are certain points of interest arising out of the new order of things which cannot fail to be understood and appreciated by the general reader. Without entering into details, it may be said without exaggeration that one of the most conspicuous and important features in last year's naval manœuvres in the Atlantic was the result obtained by Whiteheads fired from submerged tubes during fleet actions. Hitherto, one of VOL. XVI.-NO. 94, N.S. 32

the most prominent factors in the working out of modern fleet tactics has been the increased range, accuracy, and rapidity of fire of the new patterns of guns. Until comparatively recent times the torpedo only occupied a subsidiary position in the calculations of naval strategists. Now, owing to its precision and increased range, naval tactics have to be thought out from a fresh point of view. A large fleet affords, we must recollect, a very lengthened target for the officer who stands by the torpedo director. If he misses the ship actually fired at, as likely as not he will hit one of the others, especially if the enemy is in close formation, and one blow from a Whitehead is often worth more than an hour's pounding by the heavy guns of a battleship; as, for instance, in the ChinoJapanese war, when the Chinese battleship Ting Yuen was sunk by the former agency in Wei-hai-Wei harbour, after she had passed through a five hours' fleet action off the Yalu comparatively unscathed. Consequently an admiral, when bringing his fleet into action, will keep his ships out of range of the enemy's torpedoes, as the latter on their part will keep out of the range of his. It can therefore be easily understood how seriously the ordinary course of naval strategy is affected by the advent of the improved pattern of torpedo.

But the greatest menace of all which the Whitehead offers to the fleets of the future is in its application to submarine warfare. Last year I pointed out at length, in this magazine, the extraordinary advances which were being made in the construction of submarine vessels, and the actual performances of that class of vessel in its present stage of development. The French Admiralty, indeed, set as great store upon the capabilities of their formidable flotilla of submarines, now numbering nearly sixty vessels built and building, as they did upon their large supply of torpedo boats ten years ago. Now, at length, our own naval authorities have commenced to realise the enormous possibilities of submarine warfare, and the recent manoeuvres in the English Channel executed in the presence of the King and the Prince of Wales cannot fail to impress even the most conservative amongst us. Argue as one may, it is absolutely impossible, at present, to point to any method for preventing attacks by submarines outside a harbour; and even inside it there are no means at hand whereby perfectly trustworthy provision can be made against their insidious approach. If, at the present moment, Russia possessed, say, half a dozen efficient submarines in Port Arthur, Admiral Togo's plan of campaign

would have to be very different from what it is at present, unless he was prepared to run the risk of just as great a disaster overtaking him as befell the Russians on the night of February 9. So long as he remains outside the range of the fortress guns of Port Arthur, and the enemy's torpedo flotilla continues to exhibit its present lack of successful enterprise, his blockade of that port may be effectual; but if the offing was haunted with a submarine flotilla, Europe might awake any morning to find that the balance of sea power in the Far East had undergone a radical change. Not only that, but the periodical bombardment of Port Arthur in daylight would entail such tremendous risks on the attacking force that the enterprise would probably not be attempted.

It is dangerous to prophesy, but, nevertheless, there are few naval officers nowadays who do not realise that we are fated to witness not only most remarkable discoveries and improvements in submarine shipbuilding, but, what is just as significant, in torpedo construction as well. There is no finality in invention, and assuredly there is no finality in the size, speed, accuracy, and efficiency of the Whitehead torpedo. Even now a certain number of these weapons are being constructed with a reputed range of three thousand yards. Given a more perfect motive power, and a larger capacity for the storage of it, there is a marvellous future for the automobile torpedo. Its present range is one thousand yards; its experimental range is three thousand yards; who shall say that its ultimate range may not be as much as ten thousand yards? There is no need to increase its destructive powers. Two hundred pounds of detonated gun-cotton will seal the fate of the most perfect ship ever yet built. Once give the torpedo as great a range as the gun, and as straight a path as the projectile, and the whole basis of naval strategy, as it exists at present, will be utterly revolutionised. Let us therefore wait and watch.

GEORGE E. ARMSTRONG,

MEMORIES OF THE TIMES'

BY ALEXANDER INNES SHAND

We have hoped in vain for a life of Delane, and we fear we must resign ourselves to disappointment. Yet if the secret history of his eventful editorial career could be told, few political biographies would be more interesting. It could certainly not be swelled by his correspondence. Few men wrote more notes; no man made them shorter or more to the point. Dashed off, currente calamo, with a broad-pointed quill, in half a dozen lines or less you had the root of the matter. The sole exception I have seen or heard of was when he was unusually excited over the formation of Disraeli's Ministry in 1874. Then he virtually threw off the leader in a succession of blue paper slips. That brevity was characteristic of the busy man: he had neither time nor inclination to go into details, nor did he care to supply thought and reasoning to his contributors. If they did not answer to a touch of the reins, the sooner they were out of the team the better. I may say I had some short experience of his methods, for he very kindly tried to hitch me up in harness, and failed. Naturally I was flattered in my ambitions, but regular leader-work was never in my line. I had sorrowfully to explain that my genius would not answer to the sudden crack of the whip; and he remarked, rather regretfully, that the blame was mine if I broke down on the literary threshold, for he had hoped to make me an assured position. There was a temporary coolness, but it was very brief, and I never found a better friend or stauncher backer. During that spell of probation I was living in the country some distance from a station. Twice or thrice in the week, about 11 A.M., the messenger delivered a packet sent by rail, with the paper of the morning weighting an editorial scratch. That scratch gave you all the lead you wanted; the only trouble was to write up to it, on peremptory summons, for the latest available despatch. Often it was labour and sorrow; but that is a personal matter, and it is strange how sometimes toilsome effort will bear the next morning's inspection. You pass from depression to complacency; sometimes, to parody Clive in the Treasury of Moorshedabad, you sit surprised by your

own brilliancy. There may be more truth than the despondent are ready to admit in Johnson's dictum that a man can always write when he sets himself doggedly to it.

I see now that at that time Delane was testing me. Strong specialities are a great gift of the leader-writer, and he sought to discover whether I had any depth of resources or inclination to any especial line. One morning he would ring up the call bell as to the choice of a bishop; on another the subject to be discussed might be the cricket season or steeple-chasing. As to the latter, by the way, I made an unfortunate slip, by a sarcastic and unjustifiable allusion to the training and social habits of gentlemen riders. Delane printed sundry angry or indignant letters, but never said a word to me. Of course, he made allowances for ignorance and inexperience, and would never have published the articles if they had not pleased him in the main. But on one occasion I nearly came to terrible grief; then it was only sheer accident that got me out of the scrape. On a Saturday he sent me a copy of the newly published Greville Memoirs, telling me to pick out a subject for a Monday's leader. He assumed I had seen the volumes, which I had not, and I was sorely puzzled. However, I went at them tooth and nail, and suffice it to say I pretty nearly achieved the climax of indiscretion. On Sunday night the editor was in villegiatura at Ascot, and a young and inexperienced substitute chanced to be in charge. Most fortunately important news arrived from abroad, and my unlucky leader was shelved. When I next saw the editor he held up his hands in horror, but only exclaimed with admirable good-nature, 'Poor So-and-so must certainly have hanged himself if that article of yours had gone in.'

His intuitive perception, his sagacious prescience of the tendency of events, were only paralleled by his prompt decision. A message coming in at the last moment, pregnant with issues in foreign politics or home affairs, never found him unprepared, though the leader, inspired impromptu, committed him inevitably to his course. I remember on one such momentous occasion expressing my wonder and admiration to his brother-in-law Mowbray Morris, for, though taken utterly by surprise, a very few days had justified his action; and Morris said, 'It is those flashes of sure intuition that save him; if he were in the habit of hesitating, he would always be blundering.' Yet Jupiter sometimes nods, and sometimes when he waited and took thought his sagacity failed him. One notable instance was when he opposed