REMARKS.—Donnelly had now shown his capabilities to the admirers of scientific pugilism in England, and the judgment pronounced upon his merits was briefly this:—The Irish champion has not turned out so good a fighter as was anticipated. To be more precise, he is not that decisive, tremendous hitter with his right which was calculated upon. In fact, he did not use his right hand at all; if he had, he might in all probability have decided the battle full half an hour sooner than it terminated. In game and coolness he is not wanting, and for obtaining “a throw or a fall,” he will prove a dangerous customer for any man on the list. Donnelly might have felt that sort of embarrassment which hangs about a provincial actor who first treads the London boards; and to use his own words upon the merits of the battle, he said it was a bad fight, that he had acted like “a wooden man,” and could not account for it. His next essay, he thought, might prove altogether different from his defeat of Oliver. Donnelly’s right hand was frequently open when he hit. His face appeared, on leaving the ring, exempt from punishment, except some scratches upon his lips. His right ear, however, was strongly marked; but the principal punishment he sustained was upon the body. Oliver was heavily hit about the throat and ears, and also on the body. The latter by no means punished Donnelly as he did Neat; but the heavy falls that Oliver received proved him thoroughly good in nature, a game man, and one that would contend for victory while a spark of animation was left. He never did, nor never will, say “No!” It would be a violation of truth, if the above battle, under all the circumstances, was not pronounced a bad fight, as regarded scientific movements on both sides. The seconds on both sides were on the alert to bring their men through the piece; and every person was astonished to see the activity displayed by Tom Belcher in picking up so heavy a man as Donnelly, and the industry used by Randall. The conduct of the Champion of England was cool and manly in the extreme; and Shelton never lost sight of a point that could assist Oliver. Dan was, like most of his countrymen, a bit of a humourist. On the day previous to the mill a noble lord called upon Donnelly, at Riddlesdown, about one o’clock, and rather slightingly observed, “That about that time to-morrow he might expect a pretty head from the fist of Oliver.” Donnelly (at all times facetious), looking the lordling full in the face, replied, with an ironical expression, “That he was not born in a wood, to be scared an owl!” The laugh went round against the noble amateur, and by way of softening the thing, he betted Donnelly £15 to £10 upon Oliver, which the Irish champion immediately accepted.