The sailing and racing of yachts has developed a class of fore-and-aft sailors, men born and bred to the sea, fishing in winter and yachting in summer; men to whom the handling of that particular rig presents no mystery.  It is their striving for victory that has elevated the sailing of pleasure craft to the dignity of a fine art in that special sense.  As I have said, I know nothing of racing and but little of fore-and-aft rig; but the advantages of such a rig are obvious, especially for purposes of pleasure, whether in cruising or racing.  It requires less effort in handling; the trimming of the sail-planes to the wind can be done with speed and accuracy; the unbroken spread of the sail-area is of infinite advantage; and the greatest possible amount of canvas can be displayed upon the least possible quantity of spars.  Lightness and concentrated power are the great qualities of fore-and-aft rig.

A fleet of fore-and-afters at anchor has its own slender graciousness.  The setting of their sails resembles more than anything else the unfolding of a bird’s wings; the facility of their evolutions is a pleasure to the eye.  They are birds of the sea, whose swimming is like flying, and resembles more a natural function than the handling of man-invented appliances.  The fore-and-aft rig in its simplicity and the beauty of its aspect under every angle of vision is, I believe, unapproachable.  A schooner, yawl, or cutter in charge of a capable man seems to handle herself as if endowed with the power of reasoning and the gift of swift execution.  One laughs with sheer pleasure at a smart piece of manoeuvring, as at a manifestation of a living creature’s quick wit and graceful precision.

Of those three varieties of fore-and-aft rig, the cutter—­the racing rig par excellence—­is of an appearance the most imposing, from the fact that practically all her canvas is in one piece.  The enormous mainsail of a cutter, as she draws slowly past a point of land or the end of a jetty under your admiring gaze, invests her with an air of lofty and silent majesty.  At anchor a schooner looks better; she has an aspect of greater efficiency and a better balance to the eye, with her two masts distributed over the hull with a swaggering rake aft.  The yawl rig one comes in time to love.  It is, I should think, the easiest of all to manage.

For racing, a cutter; for a long pleasure voyage, a schooner; for cruising in home waters, the yawl; and the handling of them all is indeed a fine art.  It requires not only the knowledge of the general principles of sailing, but a particular acquaintance with the character of the craft.  All vessels are handled in the same way as far as theory goes, just as you may deal with all men on broad and rigid principles.  But if you want that success in life which comes from the affection and confidence of your fellows, then with no two men, however similar they may appear in their nature, will you deal in the same way.  There may be a rule of conduct; there is no rule of human fellowship.  To deal with men is as fine an art as it is to deal with ships.  Both men and ships live in an unstable element, are subject to subtle and powerful influences, and want to have their merits understood rather than their faults found out.