I find myself at variance with you touching the defences of our country. I should call myself, perhaps, a Torified Socialist."
"Oh, the defences of our country are all right!"
"I have practically proven that they are not."
"You refer to the coastguard question, and what you have proved is merely that you do not understand it. With the rise of wireless telegraphy, and the tremendous increase of speed both on sea and land, coastguards are now as picturesque and antiquated as bows and arrows. No one appreciates more than I do the stalwart, manly, efficient coastguardsman, and there is enough of the Celt in me to be touched by the thought that while we sleep, this splendid body of men marches to and fro along the ramparts of England, never out of sound of the sea. To north, south, east and west of us, these vigilant sentries are on guard, watching the darkened waters, but it is all simply an æsthetic fancy. The stolid policeman on his beat is a useful functionary. The coastguardman on his is obsolete."
"I am not so sure of that, sir. I visited the wireless telegraphic station on Brow Head a short time since, and what was shown me there impressed me very much. Particularly was I struck with its Chamber of Death, the key to whose door is never
