“JOHN CARTER. “G. D——. “W. DOWLING. “L. BYRNE. “Present, THOMAS BOYLAN, ROBERT GREGSON.” To the mortification of the fancy, this match went off upon a frivolous dispute as to the appointment of a stakeholder. Donnelly, in a discussion with Cooper’s backers, said fairly, addressing himself to Cooper, “When I defeated you, George, upon the Curragh, you got more money than I did; but when I fought Oliver in England, upon proving the conqueror, the whole of the money, 100 guineas, was presented to me. If this plan is adopted in Ireland I have no objection to fight Carter.” This proposition, however, from motives it is now impossible to discover, was refused by Carter’s friends. Donnelly’s public-house in Pill Lane was generally crowded. Carter also took a house in Barrack Street, in opposition to the Irish champion; and Bob Gregson opened a punch-house in Moor Street, Dublin. Milling topics were, therefore, the order of the day in the “sweet city.” Dan seemed now at the apex of popularity, with a prospect, backed by common prudence, of attaining permanent prosperity. His house was overflowing nightly with company, the blunt pouring rapidly into his treasury, and his milling fame on the highest eminence; but, in the midst of this laughing scene, the ugliest customer Dan had ever met with introduced himself. Without any preliminary articles, or agreeing as to time; nay, without even shaking fists, the Universal Leveller gave the stout Sir Daniel such a body blow that all the wind was knocked out of him in a twinkling; the “scratch” disappeared from his darkened optics, and he went “to sleep” to wake only to the last call of “time!” In plain prose, this renowned knight of fistic frays took sudden leave of his friends, family, and the P.R., on the 18th of February, 1820, in consequence of taking a copious draught of cold water, while in a state of perspiration after an active game at “fives.” He was in the thirty-second year of his age, and not a few of his best friends declare that whiskey-punch, by over-heating his blood, hastened the catastrophe. We shall here introduce a few random anecdotes from “Boxiana.” Soon after Dan’s arrival in London, he met Cooper and Hall one evening at the Castle Tavern, when, after inquiring after their health, he facetiously asked them if they should like a little of Mr. Donnelly in England, as they had stated fair play was not allowed to them in Ireland. Silence got rid of the inquiry.