The author of the above paper declares he witnessed the combat the challenge occasioned; and I shall endeavour to shew it to the reader in its true colours, divested of that romantic and chivalric air with which it is glossed in the paper alluded to. Two drummers, whose bodies were disfigured by the wounds they had received in battle, preceded the challenger, a stout athletic man with a blue ribband tied round his right arm, accompanied by a fell dæmon, a _second_ or friend, one who is described as bearing in his breast that malice which darted amongst the crowd through his organs of sight, the _crowd_ whose eagerness had arisen to frenzy; keen expectation marked their features and convulsed their limbs, motion impelled motion, the stout overwhelmed the weak, the tallest the short, impatience and anger prompted removals, and instantly a grand transfer of places ensued: the spectators rushed from the gallery into the area, and from the area into the gallery; and confusion reigned triumphant till Buck appeared, when all was hushed. Now observe the picture: the combatants, stripped to their shirts, _shake hands_ to show that they kill each other in _good will_, and prepare to injure and defend. Turn to the spectators, examine their breasts, what is the result?--Humanity? Pity? Fear? Horror? No: those passions would have rendered the Bear-garden desolate. The painter finds but one dreadful chaos, a compound of features expressive of eagerness, partiality, and hope; not that Miller or Buck may escape injury, but that Buck may conquer Miller, or Miller Buck. Mark the issue: Miller has received a dreadful cut in the forehead, and his eyes stream with blood. Who leaps upon the stage to staunch it, or part the fiends?--no one. What then succeeds?--a _yell of satisfaction, a huzza from the crowd_. But, not to dwell on this horrible scene, a gash on Miller's left leg terminated the combat. "The wound was exposed to the view of all who could delight in it, _and sewed up on the stage_." One solitary female shed tears for Miller, and hid her face; but, my author seems to hint, her humanity was selfish. A far more innocent amusement was announced directly after the battle, in No. 533. Mr. Clinch of Barnet entertained the publick at the Queen's-arms tavern, Ludgate-hill, for one shilling each, by imitations with his voice of the Flute, double Curtel, the Organ with three voices, the Horn, Huntsman, and Pack of Hounds, the Bells, &c. &c. Dawks's News-letter of April 2, 1713, has the following article: "Yesterday a trial of skill was fought at the Bear-garden between Henry Clements and Parks of Coventry, _where there was good sport, hacking and hewing_. It is thought they got 50_l._ apiece, the French ambassador being there, _and giving them money very liberally_." Soon after three bouts "at threshing flail" were announced; and a flourish of "no cut, no bout."