“I have said that Pilch was unequalled with the bat, and his great excellence is in _timing_ the ball. No one ever mastered Lillywhite like Pilch; because, in his forward play, he was not very easily deceived by that wary individual’s repeated change of pace. He plays forward with his eye on, not only the pitch, but on the ball itself, being faster or slower in his advance by a calm calculation of time--a point too little considered by some even of the best batsmen of the day. No man hits much harder than Pilch; and, be it observed, hard hitting is doubly hard, in all fair comparison, when combined with that steady posture which does not sacrifice the defence of the wicket for some one favourite cut or leg-hit. Compare Pilch with good general hitters, who, at the same time, guard their wicket, and I doubt if you can find from this select class a harder hitter in England.” This habit of playing each ball by correct judgment of its time and merits has made Pilch one of the few who play Old Clarke as he should be played. He plays him back all day if he bowls short, and hits him hard all along the ground, whenever he overpitches; and sometimes he will go in to Clarke’s bowling, but not to make a furious swipe, but to “run him down” with a straight bat. This going in to Clarke’s bowling some persons think necessary for every ball, forgetting that “discretion is the better part of” cricket; the consequence is that many wickets fall from positive long hops. Almost every man who begins to play against Clarke appears to think he is in honour bound to hit every ball out of the field: and, every one who attempts it comes out saying, “What rubbish!--no play in it!” The truth being that there is a great deal of play in it, for it requires real knowledge of the game. You have curved lines to deal with instead of straight ones. “But, what difference does that make?” We shall presently explain. The amusing part is, that this cry of “What rubbish!” has been going on for years, and still the same error prevails. Experience is not like anything hereditary: the generations of eels do not get used to being skinned, nor do the generations of men get tired of doing the same foolish thing. Each must suffer _propriâ personâ_, and not by proxy. So, the gradual development of the human mind against Clarke’s bowling is for the most part this:--first, a state of confidence in hitting every ball; secondly, a state of disgust and contempt at what seems only too easy for a scientific player to practise; and, lastly, a slowly increasing conviction that the batsman must have as much head as the bowler, with patience to play an unusual number of good lengths.