Not to cite bygone landlords of “The Castle,” in themselves a tower of strength, we may mention that one pugilist (Mr. John Gully) whose memoir will appear in an early chapter, has risen to senatorial honours; another (Langan, the antagonist of Spring), received a piece of plate (on his retirement from business with a handsome fortune), as a testimonial of the high respect of his neighbours and acquaintance in the town of Liverpool; while the best conducted sporting houses, and those which least frequently figure before magistrates, are—we fearlessly assert it—those kept by ex-pugilists of the higher caste. _Teste_ Belcher’s, Spring’s, Jem Burn’s, Owen Swift’s, in London, and many sporting houses in the provinces. There are exceptions, of course, but if the slanderers of pugilists and fair pugilism will insist on descending to personal or individual libel, to bolster up their cowardly onslaughts on this manly art, we pledge ourselves for every pugilist of note, whose name they produce as having come under the lash of the law for any dishonourable offence, to pick out a parson, a magistrate, or a doctor to match him; and if the highest criminality be the test of class profligacy and brutality, we will go higher and find them Quakers, military officers, aye, even bishops, guilty of capital felony. Truly it is enough to make one’s blood boil to read such canting drivel, such impotent spleen vented on bravery and courageous endurance. For ourselves, some acquaintance with the world has taught us that we had rather trust to the honour and generosity of a soldier than a priest, or a pugilist than a professing puritan. But to return to Belcher.