"In like manner the faculty of control is a thing that may be gradually
acquired by practice. It is the result of imparting a supple 'temper'
to the wrist and body, and consists in the knitting up of the various
operations into one continuous movement. But, as in the case of fencing
judgment, so here, the desired result cannot be obtained all at
once. It is the first and most natural consequence of your master's
instructions. It comes of daily practice and you must patiently watch
and wait for it, as you might wait for a peach slowly ripening on a
sunny wall. Let it grow upon you like a habit, by slow degrees, till it
becomes a second nature.
"Speed, not of course mere quickness of hand, but the rapid execution
of every movement, is one of the fencer's great resources, whether
in attack, parry, or retreat. It is to my mind the main point to be
insisted on from the very first.
"And, accordingly, I think that the master should be careful not to
overdo the sort of teaching, that consists in delivering a running
commentary such as this:--'Steady now: not too fast: take your time
about it: think what you are doing: keep your hand in order: mark each
motion: at the word _one_,--and so forth: don't hurry, you will go fast
enough by and by.'
"It is certainly useful to practise the hand by exercising it on the
master's jacket, but it is useless to practise it by slow movements.
First explain how the stroke is to be executed, and then without more
ado make your pupil get into the way of taking it quickly. Slowness
is convenient, because it renders execution easy, but the ease of
execution that is derived from it is dangerous, because it reacts on
the judgment and accustoms the mind to lazy ways. Your object is,
no doubt, to bring the hand under control and analyse the stroke in
detail, but if the result of your teaching is that your pupil falls
into a sluggish habit you are sowing the seeds of a vice, which you
will probably never succeed in extirpating.
"Suppose you are teaching a child to walk, you are not surprised
that his first steps are wavering and unsteady, and that he cannot
plant his feeble feet firmly on the ground. You hold him up, but you
let him walk. In due time he learns to use his strength, as a bird
learns to fly. The young fencer is the child learning to walk. As his
knowledge and experience gradually expand, many faults will disappear
of themselves, or will be more easily seen and corrected by his maturer
judgment.
"Speed is a mechanical force, unreasoning, unconscious, but a force
capable of development. You must add fuel to the fire and not allow it
to go out. Do you suppose that all you have to do is to change the word
of command:--'Now do quickly what you have done slowly hitherto'? Your
new command introduces a new idea and creates new difficulties.
"Such, speaking generally, are the essential principles of fencing. I
cannot say whether I have succeeded in showing you clearly how simple
the lesson on these lines may be made, or how far I have been able to
reassure those, who have inadvertently opened a treatise on sword-play
and have fought shy of the subject ever since, but I am convinced that
a course of instruction such as I suggest would produce very good
results.
"To explain myself more fully, as I am talking among friends and there
are no professors present, I will go on to tell you briefly how I
should set about teaching the use of the sword.