“But why should you exalt so highly what you call the faculty of touch, the power of judging the blade by touch, and be so ready to degrade that other sovereign principle, which may be called the faculty of sight, the power of judging the sword by eye? Can you deny the controlling influence of the eye, the authority that belongs to it? Do you believe that the eye cannot be trained to the same degree of nicety as the hand? Why, when you have these two forces at your disposal, are you content to let one of them do duty for both?

“You may keep your opponent at his distance by the menace of your nimble point, which flashes in his sight incessantly; while your watchful eye follows the movements of his sword and reads his thought, as well as if the blades were crossed and questioned each other by the language of the steel. Then, when it suits your convenience, when you see a favourable opportunity, when you have by a rapid calculation reckoned up the situation, weighed the chances, taken everything into account, then is the time to offer your sword, then is the time to engage your adversary, or by bold decided movements to get control of his blade.”

V.

“But,” objected one of my hearers, “what if your adversary adopts the same tactics, and refuses the engagement?”

“That is where science and strength, skill and personal superiority tell. What is fencing if it is not the art of leading your opponent into a trap, the art of making him think that he will be attacked in one place, when you mean to hit him in another? the skill to outwit his calculations, to master his game, paralyse his action, outmanœuvre him, reduce him to impotence?—That is the sort of thing the accomplished fencer sets himself to do.

“Your adversary, you say, will not come to an engagement. Very good; then you must force him to it by feints, or by threatening to attack. Either he attempts to parry or he attempts to thrust. In either case you get command of his blade by a simple or by a double beat, as the case may be, and then you drive your attack home.

“It holds good with fencing, as it does with all warlike measures, whether on a large scale or small, that you must not wait for what you want to be brought to you; you must learn to help yourself; take no denial, but by force or fraud get possession.

“Now, I appeal to you all as critics, not on a technical question of fencing, on which no one can be expected to give an opinion without a thorough knowledge of the art, but on a simpler matter. I will contrast two assaults. Imagine that you are the spectators. The first is between two fencers of the classical school, to use the conventional phrase.

“The swords are crossed, and the two adversaries, both gifted with consummate skill, stand facing each other, foot to foot. Feint follows feint, and parry parry; a simple attack is delivered, it is succeeded by a combination. The attitudes of both are irreproachable; the body always upright; the quick hand with exquisite finesse manipulates the dancing point by subtle and accurate finger-play. You admire the exhibition; for a moment you follow the quick passage of the blades, but your sympathies are not aroused, you are not carried away, or enthralled in spite of yourself in a fever of anxious expectation.