Portsmouth, as papa wished to visit an old friend there, and to give us
an opportunity of seeing that renowned seaport as well. We caught a
glimpse of Cowes, and Osborne to the east of it, where the Queen
frequently resides, and the town of Ryde, rising up on a hill surrounded
by woods, and then the shipping at Spithead, with the curious
cheese-shaped forts erected to guard the eastern entrance to the Solent.

Papa told us that these curious round forts, rising out of the sea, are
built of granite; that in time of war they are to be united by a line of
torpedoes and the wires of electric batteries. They are perfectly
impregnable to shot, and they are armed with very heavy guns, so that an
enemy attempting to come in on that side would have a very poor chance
of success.

As we were anxious to see them, we had kept more in mid-channel than we
should otherwise have done. We now hauled up for Portsmouth Harbour.
Far off, on the summit of the green heights of Portsdown Hill, we could
see the obelisk-shaped monument to Nelson, an appropriate landmark in
sight of the last spot of English ground on which he stepped before
sailing to fight the great battle of Trafalgar, where he fell. We could
also trace the outline of a portion of the cordon of forts--twenty miles
in length--from Langston Harbour on the east to Stokes' Bay on the west.
Along the shores, on both sides of the harbour, are two lines of
fortifications; so that even should a hostile fleet manage to get by the
cheese-like forts, they would still find it a hard matter to set fire to
the dockyard or blow up the Victory. That noble old ship met our sight
as, passing between Point Battery and Block House Fort, we entered the
harbour.

She did not look so big as I expected, for not far off was the Duke of
Wellington, which seemed almost large enough to hoist her on board; and
nearer to us, at the entrance of Haslar Creek, was the gallant old Saint
Vincent, on board which papa once served when he was a midshipman. We
looked at her with great respect, I can tell you. Think how old she
must be. She has done her duty well,--she has carried the flag of
England many a year, and now still does her duty by serving as a ship in
which boys are trained for the Royal Navy.

Further up, in dim perspective, we saw ships with enormous
yellow-painted hulls; noble ships they were, with names allied to
England's naval glory. They were all, however, far younger than the
Saint