fabulous cost; but as a general rule in about two years he wants to sell her and to retire from yachting life.

A sailing vessel and a steamer are different articles; you get attached to a sailing vessel as you do to anything animate, to your horse, or your dog; but I defy anyone to get attached to a smoky, oily steamer. There is an individuality about the sailing vessel; none about the steamer.

When the seven wise men of Greece delivered the oracular dictum that there were only two beautiful things in the world, women and roses, and only two good things, women and wine, they spoke according to their limited experience—they had never seen the new type of racing yacht under sail. Of course the perfection of animate beauty is represented by women, but certainly inanimate nature can show nothing more beautiful than 'Britannia,' 'Navahoe,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,' their sails well filled, the sun shining on them, streaking along twelve or thirteen knots an hour, apparently without an effort, scarcely raising a ripple. And then a yacht is so exceedingly feminine in her ways. One day everything goes right with her—she will not only do all she is asked to do, but a great deal more than her greatest admirers ever thought she could do: the next day everything goes wrong with her—she will not do anything she is asked, and indeed will not do what her admirers know she can do without an effort.

Some women—I speak it with all respect—bear being 'squeezed' and 'pinched,' they almost seem to like it, at any rate they don't cry out; whereas others will cry out immediately and vigorously. So will yachts.

The more you squeeze one vessel, the more you pinch her, the more she seems to enjoy it. Squeeze another, pinch her into the wind, and she lies down and calls out at once. The difference between vessels in this respect is quite funny, and essentially feminine.

Curiously enough, extremes meet; that is to say, if the pendulum of taste or fashion goes very much over to one side, it is sure to go over just as far on the other. Sailing yachts of 100, 200, 300 tons have gone out of fashion, and leviathan steamers of 800, 1,000, 1,500 tons have taken their place; but at the same time that a taste for immense steamers has driven moderate-sized sailing vessels out of the field, a taste for small boats, 5-raters, 3-raters, ½-raters—I don't quite understand their rating—has sprung up, and promises almost to supplant the big steamers themselves.

I believe the increasing popularity of these swallows of the seas—for turning, wheeling, skimming, doubling, as they do, I can compare them to nothing else—is a very good omen for yachting; they are expensive for their size and tonnage, certainly, but, after all, their cost may be counted in hundreds instead of tens of thousands. They have brought scientific boat sailing and racing within the reach of hundreds who cannot afford big racing yachts; and, moreover, the ladies join in these exciting contests, and of course very often win. In endurance, and courage, and nerve, and quickness, they are quite the equals of the other sex; and if they are occasionally a little too pertinacious, a little too eager to win, and don't always 'go about' exactly when the rules of the road require, what does it signify? Who grudges them their little victory?

A flight of these sea swallows skimming over the course at Calshot Castle, on a fine day with a good working breeze, is one of the prettiest sights in the world.

Independently of the health-giving and invigorating influences both to mind and body of a yachting life, it has advantages that in my opinion raise it above any other sport, if sport it is to be called. There is neither cruelty nor professionalism in yachting, except when certain foolish snobs in sheer wantonness shoot the too-confiding gulls that hover round the sterns of their yachts. There is no professional element in yachting, I repeat, not even in yacht racing, at least not enough to speak of, and it is an enormous advantage in its favour that it brings one into contact with what I believe is without doubt the best of our working population; for are not the toilers of the sea workers in the very fullest sense of the word?

Yacht sailors, as a rule, are sober, honest, obliging, good-tempered, original. During the many years I have yachted, I have had crews from north, east, west, and south, and I have almost without exception found them the same. A man must be hard to please indeed, if, after a three or four months' cruise, he does not part from his crew with regret, and with a sincere wish that they may meet again.

Amongst yachting skippers, I have come across some of the most honourable, trustworthy, honest men I have met in any class of life, men who know their duty, and are always willing and anxious to do it.

The chief peculiarity of all the seafaring class that I have been brought into contact with is their entire freedom from vulgarity. They are obliging to the utmost of their power, but never cringing or vulgar. The winter half of their lives is spent in fishing-boats, or coasters, or sea voyages where they have to face dangers and hardships that must be experienced to be realised. As a rule, they are religious; and their preparations for the Sabbath, their washings and soapings and brushings, show with what pleasure they welcome its recurrence. Yacht minstrelsy, with its accordion, its songs of twenty verses, its never-ending choruses, its pathos, is a thing of itself. Some day perhaps some Albert Chevalier will make it fashionable. Such as they are, I know no class of Englishmen superior, if any be equal, to the sailors who man our yachts. Of course there are sharks, or at any rate dog-fish, in all waters; but where the good so immensely outnumber the bad, that man must be a fool indeed who gets into wrong hands.

To say there is no vulgarity in yachting is not true; there is; but it is not amongst the men or among the skippers. And, after all, the vulgarity one sometimes sees amongst yacht-owners does not go for much; it amuses them and hurts nobody. If the amateur sailor wishes to be thought more of a sailor than the sailor born, he soon finds out his mistake, and when he gets into a good club subsides into his proper position.

To those who are fond of the sea and of yachting, the yacht is the most 'homey' of residences; everything is cosy, and comfortable, and within reach; and the sensation of carrying your house and all its comforts about with you is unique.

The internal economy of a yacht constitutes one of its greatest charms. Your cook, with only a little stove for which a shore cook would scarcely find any use, will send you up an excellent dinner cooked to perfection for any number of guests; and the steward! who can describe the work of a yacht's steward? I doubt whether Briareus with his hundred hands could do more than a steward does with two. At seven in the morning he is ashore for the milk, and the breakfast, and the letters, and the flowers; he valets half a dozen people, prepares half a dozen baths, brushes heaven knows how many clothes, gets the breakfast, makes the beds, cleans the plate, tidies the cabin, provides luncheon, five-o'clock tea, dinner, is always cheerful, obliging, painstaking, and more than repaid if occasionally he gets a petit mot of compliment or congratulation. When he ever sleeps, or eats, I never can tell; and, far from grumbling at his work, he often resents the assistance of any shore-going servant.

The introduction of steam launches has added very much to the pleasures of yachting, and to my mind has greatly lessened the advantages, if any, that steamers possess over sailing vessels. Every vessel of 100 tons and over can now carry a steam launch, big or small, at the davits, or on deck. You