intended reducing the masts of the Dauntless eight feet. Mr. Ashbury had decided to take the Cambria across without reducing either her spars or canvas (i.e., to sail in ordinary racing trim), and offered to find a man who would get the Dauntless ready in five days. As Mr. Rennett thought this could not be done, Mr. Ashbury offered to wait until the 8th, but Mr. Bennett still declared he could not be ready; and, upon the intervention of a friend, the match was declared off. With regard to the proposed Madeira match, if the yachts could have been got ready for such a race by the 1st of September, it is difficult to understand why they could not also have been ready for one to New York by a week after that date. Moreover, Mr. Ashbury was unwilling to set aside his arrangements with his friends for anything but a race across the Atlantic.—ED.]" It is a small matter whether or not Mr. Ashbury challenged Mr. Bennett, or Mr. Bennett challenged Mr. Ashbury. It is very evident, however, that Mr. Bennett felt considerably bored by the determination of Mr. Ashbury, and this probably caused him to overlook for a while-a fortnight it is stated—the custom of English gentlemen to answer each other's letters within a reasonable time. It would be useless expressing regret that no matches took place between the Anglo-American yachts, and it will be far more to the purpose to make what profit we can of the appearance of the transatlantic vessels in our waters. It is not saying too much to declare that they are inferior to our yachts, both in point of speed and weatherly qualities. They are of immense beam, but have not a corresponding depth, and one of Hatcher's 40-ton cutters has as much head room as either of the large American yachts now here. This enormous beam-the Sappho has 27 feet-is not wholly available for cabin accommodation on account of their extreme letter T midship sections. The platform is kept as low as possible, in conformity with getting a reasonable breadth of cabin floor, and the waste beam-if we may so term it is utilised by deep lockers running along the sides of the saloons and state rooms, close under the covering board. The main saloon is right aft, and is larger than we are accustomed to see in English yachts. The state rooms are forward of the main saloon, and between them and the forecastle, as in our yachts, the "galley fire" is lighted. In fact the arrangements for cooking are on a rather extensive scale; and with a good cook, as they always carry, such a yacht as the Sappho might dine all the officers of the Channel fleet on board. Altogether they have not nearly so much accommodation as an English yacht of equal beam would have; but we must admit that a berth for the owner and three for friends are ample for any yacht. Great beam and such ballast as can be stowed below the platform are what these American yachts depend upon for stability or stiffness, and we believe this arrange ment answers very well in light winds; but in what we call a good whole-sail breeze, it is not uncommon for such vessels to careen until their decks are at an angle of 25 degrees, and the covering boards buried six or seven planks. Such a weight of water as this would bring in the lee scuppers is never seen on the deck of an English yacht, simply because they have higher freeboards. Now, 66 all height or top hamper above the water-line is so much instability, but enough should be had to ensure dry decks when a vessel comes on a wind under a pressure of canvas. The American yachts have remarkably low freeboards and very little bulwarks, and when they have as much list as we have spoken of, their decks cannot present a very secure position. In fact, we know them to be very difficult to work in a strong wind, and it must be wretched scrambling to get about their great naked decks, with a certainty of rolling away to leeward over the top rail if the hands are not used as grapplers. We heard an American skipper say, and with a great deal of truth, that if narrow English yachts had equally low freeboards they "would not be seen once a week" when sailing on a strong wind. This may be so, but we prefer them as they are to the shallow vessels which have been described as being like a butcher's tray, with a strip of wood nailed on the bottom;" and it is this extreme form that renders them indifferent weatherly boats. It is true some of them, for the purpose of acquiring lateral resistance, or power to resist the normal tendency of shallow vessels to lee way, have centre boards of fifteen or sixteen feet in depth. These boards certainly answer the purpose for which they are intended, so long as the yachts are on an even keel; but every inch of list proportionately decreases their influence. Thus in a strong wind their value, when most needed, is almost fatally reduced, and the bluff lines of the midship sections being pressed down into the water, the displacement to leeward is largely increased, and the vessel's speed consequently diminished. No depth of keel, without weight, will prevent a vessel heeling to the wind, and in fact adding wood to a keel is adding instability to the ship, as the tendency of the wood, being lighter than the water, is to come to the surface. The bad weatherly qualities of such vessels were fully admitted to us by the master of the Sappho, who said it was his opinion that in a strong wind and heavy sea the narrow-beamed, deep, and heavily ballasted English yacht, such as the Cambria, would beat the shallower American yachts. He, however, maintained that in long reaching, or running off the wind, a yacht such as the Sappho would sail much faster than such a one as the Cambria; and averred that it was not an unusual feat for a fast American schooner to log sixteen knots. We were not certain at first if our ears had not deceived us, but it seems we heard correctly. Sixteen knots is a very tall speed, and if American yachts can get up such fleetness, we are afraid our vessels must succumb to them off a wind. Of one thing, however, we are certain, and that is, that the Americans have not advanced in yacht building since 1851 in the same ratio that we have. At that date their schooners were notably superior to ours in weatherly qualities, and in this present year we have it now not only admitted as a matter of judgment that ours are superior to theirs in that essential quality, but have seen it practically demonstrated in the race from Cherbourg to the Isle of Wight, in which the Egeria so unmistakeably beat the Dauntless. The America of 1851 was not the shallow craft that the Sappho of 1869 is, and moreover her rig was much snugger, and better adapted for windward sailing. We prefer in many respects the model of 1851, and beyond that, our preference is infinitely in favour of the English model of 1869. If we had the choice of crossing the Atlantic in either during the autumnal equinox, we should select the English vessel; and on such a course, with a bowsprit end for a weather shore, should feel quite secure of riding out an equinoctial gale. American yachts, it is said, are made to go over the waves, and not under them; for our part, we would rather take our chance under a wave in an English yacht, to over one in an American flat-bottomer. WILL HE BOOK THE SECOND. (Continued.) CHAPTER II. MR. AND MRS. TALBOT REQUEST THE HONOR.” HEN a delicate little note, with a delicate and refined -the Hardmans had a monogram all monogram ablaze with the lettering of a City shop-board, gold and colours, and a perfect tangle of gorgeous characters-was brought to the owner of "The Towers," he read it with great complacency. "Very proper! Very suitable!" He was pleased because he saw, from the formal character of the invitation, it was to be none of the dull, domestic affairs which they professed to like, sans cérémonie, and to consider far more pleasant than the great, dull, state dinners. This was a very poor, low view to take; and, for aristocratic people, a most singular one. A state dinner, twenty-four or eighteen strong, was to him the perfection of elegance, civilisation, and refinement. There true happiness and enjoyment was to be found, if you had been "given" some well-born person to take down. He had been afraid that the return compliment would have taken the shape of one of the foolish solemnities which he so dreaded; but he knew now they were certain of a choice culling of two or three flowers of rank, which was what the Talbots affected when they wished to be in state. There was more opportunity here, and he delightedly sent an acceptance, on the monogramed paper, which seemed like a bad imitation of some old MS. illumination, and which he sometimes boasted cost him sixpence a sheet. The great coach of state had set them down-Mr. and Mrs. Hardman and their son-and they had entered in the usual single file. Mr. Hardman coming last, a little uneasy and hot, into that refined atmosphere, where all was elegant and subdued beside the hot glare of his own decoration, saw that there was a grey, largeheaded gentleman with his wife, a young man with a beard, who was at home, and Old Dick Lumley over again. He felt assured that these were "somebodies," though the society was scarcely of sufficiently flattering dimensions to suit him. He and his party seemed, indeed, both to themselves and every one else, utterly out of place. They were out of keeping, and did not match. The resplendent Joss, the huge mass of human flesh, stuck over with gold and diamonds, and set upon cushions, was the worst. Mr. Hardman-keeping back -hung uneasily on the outskirts. He wondered at the vast quantity the others had to say. How little they minded him! The roundheaded gentleman proved to be Mr. Rawlinson, one of the Foreign Office secretaries, an important person, who knew every particular most valuable to know. The other was the Lord Robert, Mrs. Talbot's relation, a good-looking, bearded fellow, who was credited with an amount of wisdom vastly beyond his years, and, it must be said, still more vastly beyond what he really possessed, but which he utilized and put out to interest in a manner that was the envy of many. He had that admirable gift, which is the pride and despair of stupid people, of appearing to be full of things to tell, or to comment on, and which from such a person acquires an extra value and importance. He was not afraid of his own voice. Mr. Hardman hovered uneasily on the outskirts, smiling as if he understood, his hands behind him. Even when Old Dick Lumley and the Foreign Office secretary and Mrs. Talbot were all in a tumult of talk and excitement, laughing, clattering, interrupting, he was still outside the enclosure, and every one knew that he was. He knew that they knew this. Mrs. Talbot directed her husband to introduce him, compassionating his situation, and he was relieved at finding himself bowing humbly to a Lord Robert-something that he could not catch. Henceforth through the night it was, “You were saying, Lord Robert "-" As Lord Robert remarked "- "Your view, Lord Robert ;" and that young man, strange to say, known to be full of what is called "chaff," was strangely deferential to him. But Rob was known to be "deuced long-headed "-" never to let go a chance"—and a few whispers from his relation that this was a shrewd, vulgar, clever man of business, who had made himself, and could help a man, may be supposed to have much to do with it. The little dinner was delightful. The sauce about that round table was a never-flagging vivacity and good spirits, worth all the dishes in Francatelli. Old Dick Lumley, at such banquets, drank out of his first glass some of the precious fountain of youth— just enough, at least, to carry him through the dinner. How his ancient jaws moved in both directions; how the stories and com |