impudence or something on a par with blasphemy. The average admiral has this feeling not only as regards himself but also as regards all his brother admirals. Once the principle of a Press Law is established it may be taken for granted that the nation will have the foggiest notions as to what is going on.
This, we may be assured, will be resented by the million already referred to, and the question might quite possibly become a political one. Becoming that there are ample probabilities that the censorship might be suddenly abolished; with the result that a tale of losses, natural and incidental to a naval war would come upon the public with cumulative and unreasonably depressing effect.
This, of course, is an extreme case, purposely put—selected on that very account. A far more probable result would be a lack of public interest in the war—about as fatal a thing as can well be conceived. And just as the Russians at Port Arthur knew quite well about the lost Yashima, so probably the enemy would have full cognisance of every disaster that it was sought to keep secret.
Real secrecy, indeed, is probably an impossible thing. It is doubtful whether the 'confidential secrets of any navy, jealously guarded from all save a few officers concerned, are not as good as public property in every possibly hostile navy. The British public, and most of the British Navy also, are quite
