The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-03-28
ParIsian FencInr.

Academy asserts that fencing like conversa-
tlon, is national art with his countrymen.
To cross swords, he says, is to converse; is it
not parrylng and thrusting attacking, above
all, hitting, if one can l.? And in this game
the tongue is the hard-pushing rival of the
foil. In these days duelling seems to be once
more rising into fashion across the Channel;
only the fashion has been transferred to
class very different from that of which those
gallants were members who we're wont to
cross rapiers in the Bois de Vincennes and the
Luxembourg gardens several centuries ago.
Lord Lytton tells us that the pen is mightier
than the sword; and it is certain that in the
days OF Rlchelieu duelling was for cavaliers,
and not for journalists. Now, we observe
that 1t is the knights of the pen who are most
prone to throw it up for the sword The
French editor is skeptical of the superiority
OF pen over sword, and it is, in these days,
quite as necessary that he should be prof.
cient in ''the noble art of self-defense, as in
the proper use of verbs and nouns, and in the
science of hitting hard on paper. Possibly
the necessity of sword-learning is the more
pressing of the two, for while slip of the
pen may be remedied, slip of the sword
may not unlikely be irremediable. 1t is GER
tain that the sword is, and always has been,
the favorite weapon of the French gentle
man; there was an evident vanity in the
wearing of it in the old days, and the giving
at up as personal ornament must be one OF
the gravest indictments of the Gnctenne no
bteSSe against the revolution. So it is that
fencing masters flourish, and become artists,
and are the companions of aristocrats, and
that fencing-sehools are institutions as insep-
arabic from Paris as incendiary editorials
and revengeful journalists. The French
are less bloodthirsty than their trans-Py-
renean neighbors; it is not a sine qua non
to kill their adversary; honor is satisfied
with somewhat less. So the sword, which
often avenges without bloodshed, which pun
ishes, preserving life, by disarming, is safe
and proper weapon. You have only to wan
der into any French theatre to see how high
is the estimation in which the sword, as
weapon, and fencing, as an art, are regarded.
A French dramatist asks what would become
of his profession without the sword-duel?
The pistol is only proper to the darkest and
blaokest tragedies, but the sword is in place
everywhere. "a man wounded with a pis-
tol, he argues, 'is no longer good for any
thing. Wounded with a sword, he reappears
in q few minutes, hand in waistcoat, trying
to smile" And he concludes that the theatre
would be nothing without these two indispen-
sable auxiliaries-the sword and love
There are few schools which would afford
more amusement to the thinking foreigner,
who prefers to study men rather than stone
and qualities rather than peristyles, than
the Paris fencing-schools. Here you meet
wards, downy-lipped aspirants for army
commissions, students from the Latin quar-
ter, but, above all, ambitious journalists.
Access as a spectator is easily obtained,
and you may go far and hunt q great deal
before finding an exhibition which let's you
so far into French characteristics. There
are many fencing-schools of all grades of
fame, price, and accommodation. There are
little rooms in darksome quarters where
laor ofta n 60 Fox n frifi ~
fee; and there are spacious, elegant saloons
kept by celebrated masters of the art, where
she prices are relatively as high as are those
OF Victor Hugo for his novels, or of Gustave
Dore for his illustrations These saloons are
decorated in fashion appropriate to their
use They have suits of armor along the
walls, elaborate collections of rapiers, swords,
and sabres crossed athwart each other, pic
lures of tournaments, duels, and battles. But
curious above all are the specimens of human
nature which you see there. A fencing saloon
is little theatre where there are quite as
many originals as in the best of Sardous come
dies. The maitres dGrnes, the awe of youth
full beginners, and the admiration of the
aptest of their scholars, betray in every look
and motion their pride and conceit in theil
art, and seem to exhibit sort of indepen
dence and bluffness arising from conscious
ness that they can maintain their groundagains
all corners. They are the champion knights
of the modern chivalry, and stride about theil
domain with much the same hauteul
of physical prowess which the knights
of old used to show. Still, thei
anaour-propre is not unamiable the,
are burly, gay, ''good fellows and brav'
fellows" devoted heart and soul to thei
pupils, and especially proud of those whc
have pinked their man in the wood of Vim
cennes. They are loquacious, and if yo'
happen to go in when half dozen of tn,
scholars are preparing for their lesson, yol
will hear the naaitre regaling them will
wonderful stories, in which he is always tn
hero; never having if you will believe him
been hit with rapier or foil. 1t is odd Il
watch the countenances of the pupils a
they parry and thrust with Monsieur tn
mattre.
The best masters use the foils without but
tons after the pupil has reached a certain
stage of proficiency. Then it is that you ma
Judge of the real quality and 'grit" of tn
man. Pretending is out of the question
when one has the naked foil in his hand
Hypocrisy abandons the coolest. The polit
and polished man of the world dissolves be
fore your eyes into the true man of nature
cool or rash, timid or bold, cunning or frank
sincere or subtle
The academician to whom 1 have referred
relates that one day he fenced with what h
regarded as good results to himself. ii
tells us that he had bout with a veI
extensive agent of wines and liqueurs
who, previous to the sport, had offered t.
furnish him with some excellent wine whic
our academician had nearly accepted. Th
fencing over, the narrator went to the n,Gitr
and said to him, 81 will buy no champaign