it with the object of rendering effective aid in operations of the kind in question, has rarely been perceived and acted upon by others.  The result has been a long series of inglorious or disastrous affairs like the West Indies voyage of 1595-96, the Cadiz expedition of 1625, and that to the Ile de Re of 1627.  Additions might be made to the list.  The failures of joint expeditions have often been explained by alleging differences or quarrels between the naval and the military commanders.  This way of explaining them, however, is nothing but the inveterate critical method of the streets by which cause is taken for effect and effect for cause.  The differences and quarrels arose, no doubt; but they generally sprang out of the recriminations consequent on, not producing, the want of success.  Another manifestation of the way in which sea-power works was first observed in the seventeenth century.  It suggested the adoption of, and furnished the instrument for carrying out a distinct maritime policy.  What was practically a standing navy had come into existence.  As regards England this phenomenon was now of respectable age.  Long voyages and cruises of several ships in company had been frequent during the latter half of the sixteenth century and the early part of the seventeenth.  Even the grandfathers of the men who sailed with Blake and Penn in 1652 could not have known a time when ships had never crossed the ocean, and squadrons kept together for months had never cruised.  However imperfect it may have been, a system of provisioning ships and supplying them with stores, and of preserving discipline amongst their crews, had been developed, and had proved fairly satisfactory.  The Parliament and the Protector in turn found it necessary to keep a considerable number of ships in commission, and make them cruise and operate in company.  It was not till well on in the reign of Queen Victoria that the man-of-war’s man was finally differentiated from the merchant seaman; but two centuries before some of the distinctive marks of the former had already begun to be noticeable.  There were seamen in the time of the Commonwealth who rarely, perhaps some who never, served afloat except in a man-of-war.  Some of the interesting naval families which were settled at Portsmouth and the eastern ports, and which—­from father to son—­helped to recruit the ranks of our bluejackets till a date later than that of the launch of the first ironclad, could carry back their professional genealogy to at least the days of Charles II, when, in all probability, it did not first start.  Though landsmen continued even after the civil war to be given naval appointments, and though a permanent corps, through the ranks of which everyone must pass, had not been formally established, a body of real naval officers—­men who could handle their ships, supervise the working of the armament, and exercise military command—­had been formed.  A navy, accordingly, was now a weapon of undoubted keenness, capable of very effective use