approximately known, we may fairly expect to strike a target of the size
of an ordinary door about every other shot, at a range of a mile and a
half. Here we have carriages mounted on accurately leveled platforms; we
have men working electric position finders, and the gunners live on the
spot, and know the look of the sea and land round about.

Now, consider the case of guns mounted in ships. You at once perceive
the difficulties of the shooter. Even supposing the ship to be one of
our magnificent ironclads, solid, steady, yielding little to the motion
of the water, yet she is under steam, the aim of her guns is altered
every moment, some oscillation is unavoidable, and she can only estimate
the range of her adversary. Great skill is required, and not only
required, I am glad to say, but ready to hand, on the part of the seamen
gunners; and low trajectory guns must be provided to aid their skill.

If we go to unarmored ships of great tonnage and speed, we shall
find these difficulties intensified; and if we pass on to the little
gunboats, advocated in some quarters for attacking ironclads in a swarm,
we shall find that unsteadiness of platform in a sea-way renders them a
helpless and harmless mark for the comparatively accurate practice of
their solitary but stately foe.

The destructive power of guns is little known to the general public, and
many wild statements are sometimes put forward. Guns and plates have
fought their battle with varying success for many years. One day the
plate resists, another day the gun drives its bolt through. But it is
frequently overlooked that the victory of a plate is a complete victory.
If the shot does not get through, it does practically nothing. On the
other hand, the victory of the gun is but a partial triumph; it is
confined to a small arc. I mean that, when the plate is struck at an