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AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE skill, few were able to cope with him, leaving no great proof of their première force. My old scholar Barrett, still retaining that activity and strength, which years ago gave him such superiority, was as anxious as myself to engage with these grands tireurs, from the grand metropolis. Hovever their abilities (some excellent fencers) might have entitled them to encouragement, their dissipated conduct, their extravagance, was such, that few remained here long enough to establish themselves; and the French revolution following, those that remained, as aliens, were sent to the right about, leaving me the champs de bataille to myself; and I may venture to say, I kept it till the year 1821, when I then grounded my arms. Le rideau est tombe," Othello's occupation's gone." My father, when in his eighty-sixth year, but a few days before his decease, gave lessons. Could I have continued to this time, though my health is good, yet many are the advantages I have been deprived of promoting it, forbid ever to use that exercise again. I did hope to follow my father's example, "Hélas! on n'est pas héros partout." Whilst I was at Brighton, my friend informed me that Mr. Leslie, who, in my opinion (for many years past he preferred my room to practise in, having received his previous instructions at Brussels), was by far the best fencer there, both for science and quickness, and with that calmness, the more hits his opponents received, the more his sang-froid displeased them, some en tête fancying them selves his equal, during the time he was at Brighton with Sir Michael Stewart, encouraging the exercise there. Sir Michael, when a boy, having been my scholar, and following it up since, whose excellence not only with the foil but the Scotch broadsword was always a great acquisition to my academy. These two gentlemen forming a party, with my 27