to avoid being hit, is deemed the triumph of the art of boxing. Randall was distinguished for this peculiar trait in all his battles, Spring adopted the same mode, and by so doing he did not disgrace his character as a boxer: on the contrary, he showed himself a safe man to back, and reduced success to a certainty. Spring called on Neat after the battle, whom he found in bed, and his arm put to rights by a surgeon. The latter said, “I am not beaten, but I lost the battle by the accident.” Spring generously made Neat a present of ten pounds. Spring arrived in town on Wednesday night, but he did not sport the colours of his adversary until after he had quitted the town of Andover, and received the shouts and smiles attendant on victory from the populace in all the towns through which he passed. He had a slight black mark on his eye, and his arm in a sling, one of the bones of his right hand having received an injury. The abrupt conclusion of the battle produced sensations among the backers of Neat not easily described, and such coarse expressions were uttered by the disappointed ones as we cannot give place to in print. The Bristolians were outrageous in the extreme; a few of them positively acted like madmen; others were dejected and chapfallen. Neat was thought to be invulnerable by his countrymen, and also by the majority of sporting people throughout the kingdom. A few silly persons, in their paroxysm of rage and disappointment, pronounced the above event a cross. We feel anxious for the honour of the ring, and no exertions on our part shall be wanting to preserve it. Tom Belcher and Neat both courted inquiry on the subject. It was the expressed opinion of a spectator of the fight, that “if Neat had possessed four arms instead of two, he never could have conquered Spring.” It is utterly impossible to describe the anxiety which prevailed in the metropolis to learn the event of the battle on Tuesday evening, May 20, 1823. Belcher’s house was like a fair; Randall’s crowded to suffocation; Holt’s not room for a pin; Harmer’s overflowing; Shelton’s like a mob; Eales’ overstocked; and Tom Cribb’s crammed with visitors. Both ends of the town, East and West, were equally alive, and profited by the event. Hampshire had not had such a turn since the day when Humphries and Mendoza fought at Odiham. Thus was good derived by thousands of persons not in any way connected with the event. Several wagers were won in London after eight o’clock at night on Spring—so high did Neat stand in public opinion.