large hand and the small hand stand related to each other, in the
estimate of the masters, as a means to an end; whereas the
Experimentalist supposes them to be viewed in the relation simply of
two co-ordinate or collateral ends: on which false presumption he
grounds what would on his own view be a very sound advice; for justly
conceiving that the small hand is of incomparably more use in life, he
argues in effect thus: let us communicate the main object, and then
(if he has leisure and taste for it) let the pupil direct his
attention to the lower object: 'when the running hand is
accomplished,' says he, 'the pupil may (if it be thought necessary)
learn to write the larger hands according to the received models.'
_When_ it is acquired! 'Aye, but in order that it _may_ be
acquired,'--the writing-master will reply, 'I must first teach the
larger hands.' As well might the professor of dancing hold out as a
tempting innovation to the public--I teach the actual dances, the true
practical synthesis of the steps and movements, as it is in fact
demanded by the usage of the ball-room: let others teach the analytic
elements of the art--the mere useless steps--to those who have time to
waste on superfluities. In either art (as in many others) that, which
is first (or rather sole) in order of importance, is last in the order
of attainment: as an object _per se_, the larger hand is not wanted at
all, either before or after the running hand: if it does really
contribute nothing to the more accurate formation of the letters, by
compelling the pupil to exhibit his aberrations from the _ideal_
letter more clearly because on a scale of greater magnitude (which
yet in the second sentence of this chapter our Experimentalist himself
admits), then let it be abandoned at once: for not doing this service,
it does nothing at all. On the other hand, if this be its specific
service, then it is clear that, being no object _per se_, but simply a
means to an object, it must have precedency in the order of
communication. And the innovation of our Experimentalist is so far (in
the literal sense of that word) a _preposterous_ inversion of the old
usage: and this being the chief principle of his 'plan' we desire to
know no more of it; and were not sorry that (p. 178) we found him
declining 'to enter into a detail of it.'--The business of the chapter
being finished however, there yet remains some little matter of
curiosity. 1. The Experimentalist affirms