Naval punishments are severe; but discipline necessitates punishments, and these have been regularly toned down to the spirit of the age. The real and genuine grievances of to-day are almost identical with the genuine grievances of which the “prime seamen” complained in 1797:--pay, leave, and the treatment of men who happen to come into the hands of the ship’s medical staff through no fault of their own. In 1912 a Commission was enquiring into punishments, and further reductions in them to suit modern ideas resulted; but it is by no means certain that any advantage in efficiency will be acquired therefrom. Naval Discipline--no matter how harsh--is a tricky thing to tamper with. The highest possible ideal of Discipline was reached by the Japanese, who, previous to the war with Russia, ran their Navy on “the honour of the flag” lines; and presumably had some similar system in the Army. In what is certainly the most patriotic land of our era this succeeded in peace time. Yet in the attacks on Port Arthur, when a great assault was made, when the time came to cease bombarding the hostile position, the guns were turned on the possible line of retreat, ensuring that for a man to retire was more dangerous to him than to go forward. In the case of the Japanese it was perhaps an unnecessary precaution, but it was borrowed from old-time precautionary usage in Europe. Every system of discipline is based on the fact that either sooner or later there will be some man who will be frightened enough to turn tail, and lead others to follow his example, unless there is something still worse to stop him. On this foundation stone the most seemingly trivial items of discipline are based. No normal man, _when it comes to the point_, cares to risk his life or limbs. Here and there an individual of the “don’t care” order is to be found; but generally speaking he is an anomaly. In the ordinary way the safest assumption is that he will think more of his skin than anything else--and on this theory all systems of discipline are founded. All rely on the ultimate fact that “it is worse to go back than to go forward.” The curse of the present age is the semi-educated humanitarian who criticises the _means_ (often crude enough) without taking the _end_ into proper account. At the other extreme are those who, though familiar with the story of the Russian sentry regularly placed to protect a favourite flower which had died two hundred years before, understand that there is a _reason_ for everything, but fail to realise fully that conditions change.