That grand protector of our islands, the Sea, is to Great Britain more than a hundred million of men; and every boy should learn the history of what it has been to us, what it is, and what it ever will be, held by a Fleet which has never been conquered! Every brave lad’s heart is bound to thrill when he is told of the magnificent deeds of daring performed by our naval heroes whose names are household words; but it is to be feared that of latter years boys have been encouraged both at home and at school to think more of “sport” and games of skill than patriotism, and the special training which would help them also to be heroic and to “make history.” Lawn tennis is now regarded as a serious business, but it is only a game, and a country will never be saved by it. Cricket and football are equally “games”; neither one nor the other will drive the foe from our shores should he invade us. Games are good as “games,” but when they become a national obsession the hard and fast line must be drawn before it is too late. The Sea is our fortress, and so long as that is kept and guarded by a perfectly trained and efficient Navy, we need not fear. Nevertheless, to keep that training and efficiency up to the mark we must show no slackness, no falling-off; there must be a perpetual addition of new, youthful, and ardent blood; brave boys and young men for whom the ever glorious lines of Shakespeare express life’s utmost truth and meaning:-- “This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise; This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world; This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings Fear’d by their breed, and famous by their birth, Renownèd for their deeds as far from home-- For Christian service and true chivalry-- As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world’s ransom, blessèd Mary’s Son; This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, * * * * * England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune!” I wish that every word of this magnificent outburst of noble patriotism were learned by every boy in Britain, and imprinted on his memory, as ineffaceably as his daily prayer. It is the heart’s utterance of the greatest poet and truest lover of his country England has ever produced, and inspires the soul with the same emotion as that expressed by Sir Humphrey Gilbert, of Shakespeare’s time and spirit:--