In society the position of the Sword was remarkable. ‘Its aspect was brilliant; its manners were courtly; its habits were punctilious, and its connections were patrician.’ Its very vices were glittering; for most of them were the abuses which could not but accompany its uses. It bore itself haughtily as a victor, an arbitrator; and necessarily there were times when its superlative qualities showed corresponding defects. Handled by the vile it too often became, in the ‘syllogism of violence,’ an incubus, a blusterer, a bully, a tyrant, a murderer, an assassin, in fact ‘death’s stamp’; and under such conditions it was a ‘corruption of the best.’ But its lapses were individual and transient; its benefits to Humanity were general and ever-enduring. The highest period of the Sword was the early sixteenth century, that mighty landmark separating the dark Past from the brilliant Present of Europe. The sudden awaking and excitement of man’s mind, produced by the revival of learning and the marriage-union of the West with the East; by the discovering of a new hemisphere, the doubling of the world; by the so-called Reformation, a northern protest against the slavery of the soul; by the wide spread of the printing-press, which meant knowledge; and, simultaneously, by the illumination of that electric spark generated from the contact of human thought, suddenly changed the status of the Sword. It was no longer an assailant, a slaughterer: it became a defender, a preserver. It learned to be shield as well as Sword. And now arose swordsmanship proper, when the ‘Art of Arms’ meant, amongst the old masters, the Art of Fence. The sixteenth century was its Golden Age.