force of a certain size, with higher pay and
advantages than other seamen—all present means
should be taken to make the navy as popular
and tempting as possible. A bounty once in a
way is, though a violent, a serviceable fillip.
Much depends on the conduct of officers
themselves in each ship—which should be kindly,
hearty, encouraging—without molly-coddling,
or undue interference. We do not want the
sea-fogy—the paternal despot—who irritates
by petty and minute regulations, sets his face
against smoking, potters over people's welfare,
and ruins it by over-nursing. Curiously enough,
it is not always the severest men who flog most;
their character inspires a certain wholesome
respect, which keeps the men in order. As for
flogging generally, the feeling of the service is
so strongly against any improper amount of it, as
to establish a check on the practice. But there
might be stronger restraints on it than this, or
than the regulation which compels a warrant
and twenty-four hours' delay before its infliction.
One of the worst features of the punishment is,
that there is no definite list of offences for which
it is to be inflicted; and that a man may be flogged
in one ship for what would be passed over more
mildly in the ship lying at the next mooring.

Discipline in its largest sense has not been
neglected on the other side of the Channel. The
French have dockyards, and ships, and men, and
they know that, in all matters military and naval,
government is an immense thing.

There is our Admiralty for instance. A
country squire to-day, a foolish old lord
tomorrow, may be at the head of it, with just as
much fitness to manage the navy as to
manage a dairy or a paper-mill. He may undo all
yesterday's work, dismantle ships and pay
off seamen for the sake of a "cry," leaving
us a panic and a struggle in reserve for this day
twelvemonth. He has not naval help enough,
and he does not go the right way to get the
best of it. The "Admiralty" is a standing
subject of growl, a perennial object of ridicule, on
board ship; and the blunders of the institution
are at the bottom of that anxiety and uneasiness
everywhere felt about our naval affairs.
The Admiralty admits no improvement till
it is forced upon it; rushes into the opposite
extreme when it takes one up, and
overdoes it, at the waste of thousands of
pounds. Who does not know the story of
the new anchor, and mourn over the absurdity
of associating ships any longer with that
symbol? Who does not know about the iron-
built vessels, and the choking up of the Medway?
about ships of war broken up without ever
being used, pulled to pieces by way of
"conversion;" altered in the sterns and spoiled;
altered in the bows and then neglected? Above
all, who does not know how this beautiful
branch of government has managed in the affair
of officers, choking up the lists (as it choked
up the river above mentioned) by negligence
and jobbery, giving commands to dotards, and
putting merit on the shelf? We are now suffering
(strange to say) at once from too many
admirals, and from the want of one good naval
commander.

In France, the Minister of Marine now in
office is a seaman; and, though this is not always
the case, it is the case with the secretary, who
must be a "capitaine de vaisseau," or hold equal
rank in one of the branches of the service
represented in the council. Of that Council of
Admiralty (the Minister of Marine being
president) there are "membres titulaires," viz. four
flag-officers, an inspector of naval engineers
(architecture), a commissary-general, and a
captain who has for two years commanded a line-of-
battle ship; there are, also "membres
adjoints," viz. a capitaine de vaisseau, a first-class
naval architect, and a commissary or controller.
Briefly, the whole profession in France is
represented in the French Admiralty, and that in an
efficient manner; for all these officers must be
on the active list, and all are appointed for three
years at least.

Touching promotion, the French Government
makes an effort, at all events, to organise it into
a sound system on honest principles. Every
year there is prepared by the Council a
"Tableau d'Avancement"—Promotion-Table—
drawn up after an examination of the reports
and recommendations of inspectors-general,
commanding-officers of squadrons, and other chiefs
of departments. The whole personnel of the
service thus passes under review. To describe
the whole machinery, would be tedious, but the
reader sees the main wheel. It seems rather a
complicated scheme; but our simplicity is hardly
preferable, for it means no scheme at all. We
cannot employ our admirals, and cannot get rid
of them: we are starved, and swamped, as
regards our general supply of officers, by turns.
Party politics and personal connexions carry the
day. Somebody's voters, or somebody's aunt:—
these are the motive powers of British
promotion.

It is important to observe, also, that the
French Navy List not being choked as ours is,
French officers see much more active and
practical service than ours do. The French keep up
a squadron of evolution permanently: a system
quite neglected in the British navy of late years.
How came Jervis, with fifteen ships, to thrash
twenty-five Spanish ones? By knowing how to
handle them; by knowing how to manœuvre ships
as a commander of cavalry manœuvres cavalry.
In the great war, a British fleet stuck together
for weeks across hundreds of miles of sea.
Daylight dawned, and revealed them to each other
in their places on the grey water; night came,
and the moon found them bowling along
harmoniously, like a flock of birds. How different
when our friend Rubadub used to creep out of
Malta, for a fortnight's cruise in fine weather!
"What's that signal?"  "Hottentot, keep your
station."  "Where the blazes is the Ringtail
going? Oh, she's missed stays. By Jove!
she'll fall aboard the Potentate. No, she
won't." Why not keep our squadron (now
that we are getting one at last) out for weeks,
and let our admirals try those movements in