rumpled, it would
harm nobody in particular, even if the assault were wholly successful.

Of course, if a torpedo boat could get a chance at piers and dock gates
they would make a disturbance, but the chance is extremely remote if the
defenders have ordinary vigilance and some rapid fire guns. In harbour
defence the searchlight would naturally play a most important part,
whereas at sea experts are beginning to doubt its use as an auxiliary to
the rapid fire guns against torpedo boats. About half the time it does
little more than betray the position of the ship. On the other hand, a
port cannot conceal its position anyhow, and searchlights would be
invaluable for sweeping the narrow channels.

There could be only one direction from which the assault could come, and
all the odds would be in favour of the guns on shore. A torpedo boat
commander knows this perfectly. What he wants is a ship off at sea with
a nervous crew staring into the encircling darkness from any point in
which the terror might be coming.

Hi, then, for a grand, bold, silent rush and the assassin-like stab.

In stormy weather life on board a torpedo boat is not amusing. They
tumble about like bucking bronchos, especially if they are going at
anything like speed. Everything is battened down as if it were soldered,
and the watch below feel that they are living in a football, which is
being kicked every way at once.

And finally, while Yarrow and other great builders can make torpedo
craft which are wonders of speed and manoeuvring power, they cannot
make that high spirit of daring and hardihood which is essential to a
success.

That must exist in the mind of some young lieutenant who, knowing well
that if he is detected, a shot or so from a rapid fire gun will cripple
him if it does not sink him absolutely, nevertheless goes creeping off
to sea to find a huge antagonist and perform stealthily in the darkness
an act which is more peculiarly murderous than most things in war.

If a torpedo boat is caught within range in daylight, the fighting is
all over before it begins. Any common little gunboat can dispose of it
in a moment if the gunnery is not too Chinese.

IRISH NOTES

I.--AN OLD MAN GOES WOOING.

The melancholy fisherman made his way through a street that was mainly
as dark as a tunnel. Sometimes an open door threw a rectangle of light
upon the pavement, and within the cottages were scenes of working women
and men, who comfor