of Salamis; and I will ask you if you think the
mariners of England are, in any one respect, morally or
intellectually, superior to those who then preserved the liberties of
Greece, under the direction of Themistocles?"

"I will venture to assert," said Mr Foster, "that considered merely as
sailors, which is the only fair mode of judging them, they are as far
superior to the Athenians, as the structure of our ships is superior
to that of theirs. Would not one English seventy-four, think you, have
been sufficient to have sunk, burned, and put to flight, all the
Persian and Grecian vessels in that memorable bay? Contemplate the
progress of naval architecture, and the slow, but immense succession
of concatenated intelligence, by which it has gradually attained its
present stage of perfectibility. In this, as in all other branches of
art and science, every generation possesses all the knowledge of the
preceding, and adds to it its own discoveries in a progression to
which there seems no limit. The skill requisite to direct these
immense machines is proportionate to their magnitude and complicated
mechanism; and, therefore, the English sailor, considered merely as a
sailor, is vastly superior to the ancient Greek."

"You make a distinction, of course," said Mr Escot, "between
scientific and moral perfectibility?"

"I conceive," said Mr Foster, "that men are virtuous in proportion as
they are enlightened; and that, as every generation increases in
knowledge, it also increases in virtue."

"I wish it were so," said Mr Escot; "but to me the very reverse
appears to be the fact. The progress of knowledge is not general: it
is confined to a chosen few of every age. How far these are better
than their neighbours, we may examine by and bye. The mass of mankind
is composed of beasts of burden, mere clods, and tools of their
superiors. By enlarging and complicating your machines, you degrade,
not exalt, the human animals you employ to direct them. When the
boatswain of a seventy-four pipes all hands to the main tack, and
flourishes his rope's end over the shoulders of the poor fellows who
are tugging at the ropes, do you perceive so dignified, so gratifying
a picture, as Ulysses exhorting his dear friends, his ERIAERES
'ETAIROI, to ply their oars with energy? You will say, Ulysses was a
fabulous character. But the economy of his vessel is drawn from
nature. Every man on board has a character and a will of his own. He
talks to the