linear raters on the word of a man who regrets in such a
sympathetic and understanding spirit the threatened decay of
yachting seamanship.

Of course, yacht racing is an organized pastime, a function of
social idleness ministering to the vanity of certain wealthy
inhabitants of these isles nearly as much as to their inborn love
of the sea. But the writer of the article in question goes on to
point out, with insight and justice, that for a great number of
people (20,000, I think he says) it is a means of livelihood--that
it is, in his own words, an industry. Now, the moral side of an
industry, productive or unproductive, the redeeming and ideal
aspect of this bread-winning, is the attainment and preservation of
the highest possible skill on the part of the craftsmen. Such
skill, the skill of technique, is more than honesty; it is
something wider, embracing honesty and grace and rule in an
elevated and clear sentiment, not altogether utilitarian, which may
be called the honour of labour. It is made up of accumulated
tradition, kept alive by individual pride, rendered exact by
professional opinion, and, like the higher arts, it spurred on and
sustained by discriminating praise.

This is why the attainment of proficiency, the pushing of your
skill with attention to the most delicate shades of excellence, is
a matter of vital concern. Efficiency of a practically flawless
kind may be reached naturally in the struggle for bread. But there
is something beyond--a higher point, a subtle and unmistakable
touch of love and pride beyond mere skill; almost an inspiration
which gives to all work that finish which is almost art--which IS
art.