3. The solution of the question which would have reconciled the views of the four Powers more immediately concerned was the neutralisation of Korea. Great Britain, Russia, and Japan were of one mind on this subject, and China would have hailed such an escape from her chronic embarrassment respecting Korea. Why, then, was no attempt made to bring about such a solution? Want of co-ordination, it would appear; diplomatic paralysis. Though the views of each Power separately ascertained were identical, none of them would speak first, and there was no fifth party to assume the initiative in bringing them to a common understanding. The blame of this must be equally distributed, though in point of fact there were degrees of responsibility which it would be useless now to recall. It is only one example the more of the great gap which often yawns between professional diplomacy and practical politics. The issue of the war was a foregone conclusion, both by sea and land. China had no army, and the more numerous her levies the more helpless they were before a disciplined enemy. The navy failed precisely where it was expected to fail. It was an incomplete machine, neglected and in disorder, deficient in many essential things. Worst of all, there was no heart in it. Captain Lang, R.N., and other British officers had been expelled from the service through a conspiracy of the captains in 1890, and thenceforth its deterioration became rapid. The efficiency of the navy for its main purpose was the last thing considered by the cabal. They relied absolutely on the diplomatic resources of Li Hung-chang to save them from any possible trial of strength, and refused to face an alternative even by way of argument. Bravery was by no means lacking in the ranks, nor professional education among the officers. There were some who had Nelson's maxims at the tip of their tongue, and there were some who added to a thorough naval training the spirit of devotion which makes heroes. But these qualities were isolated and incoherent; there was no tradition to render them fruitful, no martial spirit, no disgrace for the coward, no honour for the valiant. The fleet was a body, defective enough at that, but without a soul. The minds of the captains being set on quite other objects than the efficiency of their service, when the crisis threatened they were intent only on evading collisions. The valour of the admiral, the fine sense of duty of individual officers, and the fighting qualities of a considerable body of the seamen, were swamped in the prevailing pusillanimity of the service; the choice spirits were discouraged by the fatuous neglect at headquarters to supply the ordinary necessaries of warfare. It was the writer's fortune to make a passage in a Chinese protected cruiser in September 1894, a few days before the great naval action off the Yalu, and it was most pathetic to hear the defects pointed out by the captain and first lieutenant--defects in ammunition