Undoubtedly the record of the marvels of applied science kept by _Punch_, and the forecasts of further extension in which he indulged, come home to us more closely in connexion with inventions for use in warfare. The unrealized projects of Captain Warner have been described in the previous volume. A liquid-fire bomb or incendiary shell, and an incendiary rifle-bullet attracted attention early in 1859. But the lessons of the American War of 1861-1865 gave _Punch_ occasion to think sometimes seriously, and even with flashes of remarkable insight, on the possibilities of future warfare. His old distrust of armoured ships as "ferreous freaks" was not entirely dispelled by the triumph of the monitor; he gives us a picture of a new iron-clad mistaken for a Noah's Ark, and speaks of the new types as flat-irons. He admits that the action between the _Merrimac_ and the _Monitor_ conclusively proves that one iron-clad ship is a match for several wooden ships carrying more and heavier guns; but if there are to be no ships of war but iron ships, and iron ships are mutually shot-proof, he is impelled to the further conclusion that naval war in the future may end in an inconclusive stalemate:-- Ships being rendered practically invulnerable, any two vessels of war belonging to hostile nations will, hereafter, meeting on the high seas, each find itself unable to injure the other and therefore be obliged to part in peace, the result of their collision having been as nearly as possible the opposite to that of the conflict between the Kilkenny Cats. From such a prospect _Punch_ professes to derive hope; but there is more sagacity in the "Farewell to the Fleet" which followed three weeks later, a valediction which in its last stanza crudely anticipates the pre-and post-war warnings of Admiral Sir Percy Scott:-- Now farewell, my trim three-decker, Sails and spars and all farewell; Iron's proved of wood a wrecker, Where 'twill steer us who can tell? In glorious Nelson's days, d'ye mind them, Our tars were sailors every inch: Stout hearts, with pigtails stout behind them, And ne'er a man to skulk or flinch. But now--my dear eyes! British sailors Half soldiers and half stokers are; And if we manned the fleet with tailors, 'Twould in a month be fit for war. * * * * * Bomb-proof, hull-sunk, iron-roofed, we steam on, Nor ball nor boarder fear we now; And when our foe we run abeam on, He sinks at once beneath our prow. Them Yankee swabs, from shot a-shrinking: Fight under water, so they tells; Dear eyes! our Navy soon, I'm thinking, Will be a fleet of diving bells. [Illustration: THE "BRITISH TAR" OF THE FUTURE] [Sidenote: _The Navy of the Future_]