adequate proposal before it. It is not sent out merely to destroy a fort, or to levy a contribution. It comprises, therefore, a body of troops sufficiently large to maintain itself in an enemy's country; to capture Sydney; to conquer New South Wales; to annex Tasmania; to seize and fortify King George's Sound. Each and all of these have been freely spoken of as possible and even reasonable aspirations of France or Russia. But the least ambitious of such schemes involves the transport of an army. Bonaparte, in 1798, judged 25,000 men not too many for the conquest of an outlying province of Turkey; how many would be thought necessary now, for the conquest of a corner of the English Empire? The expedition that sailed for Egypt, 1500 miles across a summer sea, numbered some 500 vessels: how many would be gathered together for the passage to Australasia, 13,000 miles, round the Cape of Storms? It is absolutely inconceivable that, with a due exercise of our postulated command of the sea, such an enormous concourse of ships can get well away out of the Mediterranean, or the Baltic, or the North Sea, through the Straits of Gibraltar or of Dover, down the Channel or out of Brest or the Bay of Biscay, without meeting an English fleet bent on destroying it. Its fighting efficiency is at a minimum; it is hampered by a crowd of troopers, storeships, and colliers; it has neither speed nor coherence; any enemy, however feeble, will prey on it; and a meeting with a fleet organized for battle will be fatal to it. Battle-ships will cripple, if they do not sink or capture, the battle-ships; cruisers, gun-vessels, even torpedo boats, will make hay among the transports and storeships; some may get back to their own country; more will find their way to an English port; the one place at which none of them will arrive is their Australasian rendezvous. Such an engagement would be as decisive of the war as Quiberon Bay or Trafalgar, and we might wish it to become an established fact. But the hope would be vain: we may be quite sure that no enemy will give himself away in such a manner. In a recent address to the Royal Colonial Institute, Lord Carrington rightly said, 'The Mother Country would look upon a descent upon Australian shores in the same way as upon an invasion of Hampshire or Kent.' He might have added, ' and would take exactly the same measures to prevent it.' But having omitted this as unnecessary, or outside his purpose at the moment, a writer, from whose intelligence a more perfect grasp of the problem might have been expected, has remarked: Surely Lord Carrington himself does not believe that, if Kent were threatened, England would send the Channel Fleet to 6 Sydney?' * Sydney? Principal Hervey speaks with authority on the state of Colonial opinion, and we have reason to fear that the idea embedded in this remark is one commonly held. It may therefore be necessary to point out that by the most elementary rules of naval war, the place of an English fleet is in the immediate neighbourhood of the enemy. If Kent is threatened, the fleet that threatens it must be in some place, and hard by there is an English fleet. If Sydney is threatened, the threatening fleet has an actual existence, and in presence of it also is an English fleet. The modern name of The Channel Fleet' is, no doubt, misleading; our ancestors used to speak of The Grand Fleet,' or 'The Western Squadron;' but under whatever name it has happened to bear, its place has always been held to be in face of the enemy. Anson led it, not ingloriously, to Cape Finisterre; under Hawke, it looked-fatally for our enemies-into Quiberon Bay; under Howe, it relieved Gibraltar; under Gambier, it blocked the French in Basque Roads. In time of war with France, its primary duties have been to watch the ships in Brest or other Western ports against other enemies, it has been, practically, non-existent. In the old wars with Holland, its equivalent was generally to be found in the North Sea; in the modern war with Russia, it became the Baltic Fleet, and rode off Cronstadt. But wherever an enemy's fleet lies, there it, or some other fleet, under whatever name caprice or geography may dictate, keeps watch. If the enemy puts to sea, it fights him; if he escapes, it follows him, whether he sails towards the shores of Kent or of New South Wales; the one object of the English commander being to find him and bring him to action. In this we have Nelson's example as a sure guide to future conduct; and as the enemy's fleet cannot possibly threaten two places at the same time, so also the English admiral has no opportunity of defending one in preference to the other. What is true for one enemy's fleet and one English admiral, is true for two or three, or any other number. Each enemy's fleet is so watched that it cannot get to sea without its movements being known, and without certain measures being taken to ensure its being dealt with; and to assume the possibility of its arriving in Australian waters is to suppose not merely that we have lost a battle, but that we have lost the command of the sea. There is, however, one possibility which ought to be noticed; the possibility of a hostile squadron coming, not from Europe, but from the North, or even the South Pacific. We do not, Principal Hervey, in the United Service Magazine,' March 1891. indeed, indeed, entertain the question of war with the United States, or a hostile squadron out of San Francisco, though it is, of course, an abstract possibility. But war with some other country is more probable, and there are numerous ports, from Kamtchatka to New Caledonia or New Guinea, in which a squadron might be secretly gathered together beforehand, ready to put to sea at very short notice. The effort of such a squadron would certainly be to scour the seas, to occupy the ocean routes, and to inflict a heavy blow on our commerce. Territorial attack-it must be repeated-without some definite aim, is not the objective of even battle-ships, and cannot be attempted without the co-operation of a land force; in no navy, English or foreign, are there any cruisers capable of engaging even the most modest coast defences; and, by their own patriotic but misdirected energy, the harbours of Australia and New Zealand are already fortified far in excess of any possible requirements. The protection here called for is purely naval; and the danger is one of those which it is, in the first instance, the special duty of the Cabinet and the Prime Minister to guard against. The art of war mainly consists in having the requisite force in the place where it is wanted; and a timely strengthening and a judicious stationing of the Australian squadron, but still more of the Chinese and East Indian, will be the best and most efficient security against any such attempt. In this country, secrecy, in time of peace, is practically impossible; it is almost as much so in time of war; and any proposed increase of our foreign squadrons would be known at Paris or St. Petersburg, Berlin or Constantinople, as soon as at Portsmouth or Plymouth; perhaps sooner. From the belligerent point of view, it might be better if this were otherwise; but, at any rate, the intelligence would be an intimation to our foe that his project was divined; and, with all its shortcomings, our navy, on a war footing, has never been an encouraging thing for an enemy to contemplate. We wish it to continue so. We wish it to be recognized that, as our Empire has grown by our sea power, so by our sea power alone can it be maintained; and that the true problem of coast defence for us is, not to find the minimum of naval strength needed to support the works on shore, but to ascertain the minimum of such works necessary to support the power of the navy. We e are painfully aware that, for many years past, successive financiers have aimed at providing the minimum of naval strength; and with such success, that at the present time, that minimum is not commensurate with the necessities of our position; that, if need should suddenly arise, it might be found unequal unequal to the calls which would be made on it. This inadequacy has often been urged, and by military officers of the highest rank, as a reason for increasing our shore defences. To us, it seems rather a reason for increasing our navy. But, we are told, the expense is prohibitive; the country would not endure it. This is not quite accurate: the country provides liberally enough for its defence; that the defence is not perfect is the fault of the administration. The navy is weak, because money which should have been devoted to strengthening it has been systematically misapplied in other directions; because within the last thirty years upwards of fourteen millions sterling have been lavished on the fortifications of the home forts; because, year after year, the expenditure on the army has exceeded that on the navy by several millions; because the army has been taken as the standard of armed strength, and the resources of the country have been strained in a fancied, but utterly impossible, rivalry with the great military Powers of the Continent. Sooner or later the absurdity of all this will be recognized it will be understood that neither fortifications nor army can, for us, act as a substitute for the navy. No possible amount of coast defences can in any way serve to guard our sea communications, the highways of the Empire. These can only be maintained by an adequate and efficient navy; and reliance on forts, harbour defences, submarine mines, is a first step towards relinquishing the command of the sea, on which our commerce, our Empire, and our national existence depend. ART. ART. V.-An Act to amend Title 60, Chapter 3, of the Revised Statutes of the United States relating to Copyrights. HE Legislature of the United States has at length passed an International Copyright Act which has thrown the whole literary world of England into a ferment. Authors, Publishers, Printers, all sorts and conditions of men, from the virtuous member of the Cobden Club to the old-fashioned, unscientific Protectionist-all combine to differ as to its probable practical effect, and as to the exact view to be taken of its abstract principles. The general tenor of the new law is no doubt already familiar to many a reader, but it may facilitate examination of the subject if we commence with a brief explanation of its precise terms, as amending the pre-existing American law on Copyright. Previously to the passing of the recent Act, the Revised Statutes of the United States had granted copyright to any kind of intellectual work which is susceptible of protection according to American law, and which might have been produced by 'any citizen of the United States, or resident therein.' The duration of copyright is twenty-eight years, with a further extension of fourteen years; the protection so accorded being subject to certain formalities of registration and deposit. But Section 4971 of the Revised Statutes provided 'Nothing in this chapter (that relating to Copyright) shall be construed to prohibit the printing, publishing, importation, or sale of any book, map, chart, dramatic or musical composition, print, cut, engraving, or photograph, written, composed, or made by any person not a citizen of the United States nor resident therein.' Thus it was that the work of an alien author could under no circumstances, until the passing of the new Act, acquire protection in the United States, save under the condition of permanent residence; the words 'resident therein' in the abovequoted section of the statutes being construed to mean a fixed residence or domicile, acquired with the intention of permanency and not with the animus revertendi.' On this cardinal point the law of the United States differed from that of almost every civilized state. The new Act, however, repeals Section 4971 of the Revised Statutes, and permits the alien author of any object of literary or artistic property to acquire copyright in the United States, under the following conditions: 'He must on or before the day of publication in the United States, or in any foreign country, deposit with the librarian of Congress |