This wretched persecution thus dragged its weary length into the following year, 1842, when negotiations for a compromise having been made between the Crown solicitors and those of the defendants, Mr. Gurney, on the part of “Burke, Adams, Cain, and others,” said he was instructed to withdraw their plea of “not guilty,” and to accept a verdict for the Crown against his clients. Mr. Andrews thereon, on the part of the magistrates, thought the defendants had pursued a very proper course, and the prosecution was withdrawn; so that this expensive performance of “Much Ado about Nothing,” ended by Messrs. Cautley and Smith “taking nothing by their motion,” the defendants being put to a heavy expense, and an outlay of some hundreds of pounds (raised by benefits and public subscriptions of the admirers of British boxing, and the sympathisers with the unfortunate victims of Puritanical persecution) to the profit of lawyers. At the opening of these assizes Baron Gurney made the following significant remark, with which we will conclude these instructive legal proceedings for the suppression of pugilistic encounters: “His lordship, in discharging the grand jury, said, that although the number of cases in the calendar was not greater than was usual at the spring assizes, yet he regretted to see that the character of many of the offences was of a most aggravated description, and that there was no less than six charges of _maliciously cutting and wounding_ in the calendar. His lordship said that this offence of using deadly weapons in personal quarrels appeared to be very much on the increase, that it was a disgrace to the character of the country, and that it must be put down.” In May, 1842, the Deaf’un was matched with the Tipton Slasher (William Perry), but at the fourth deposit, which was appointed to be made at Owen Swift’s on July 7th, when “Time” was called, and Burke’s “needful” ready, no one appeared on behalf of the Tipton, and Burke was thereon declared entitled to the forfeit of the £15 down. Johnny Broome, as the representative of Perry, afterwards made his appearance, but Burke’s friends declared the business closed, and refused to reopen the affair. And thus ended the Deaf’un’s last attempt to get paired with either of “the big ’uns,” who at this period preferred their questionable claims to the tarnished honours of the “Championship.” “Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen. Fallen from his high estate,” poor Jem now became the plaything, but never the parasite, of a knot of men about town, supplementing their questionable patronage by giving lessons in boxing, and conducting the room at his early patron’s (Joe Parish, the waterman and pugilist) who, for many years after his removal from Strand Lane, kept the “Lion,” at the corner of Newcastle Street, Strand. The Deaf’un――and we met him often――was always respectable in appearance and respectful in manner, and out of his small means supported an aged mother and a humble home.