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FIGHTING REMINISCENCES.

(BY A LOVER OF THE FINE ARTS.)

Ir fighting is not one of the Fine Arts, it is as good a thing-as deservedly dear to all lovers of real refinement in manners and real purity in morals-as essential to the march of national prosperity, and as ornamental to the fabric of national greatness; and that its progress runs in a parallel line with all these,-stopping when they stop, and turning aside or retrograding when they do so, will not for a moment be doubted by those who have duly considered its nature, origin, tendency, and effects!

Though not a little fond of an argument, and (with due modesty be it spoken) not meanly skilled in carrying one on, I decline to do so with regard to the above propositions; on the contrary, though I am in no degree dogmatical myself, and despise dogmatism in others, I venture to assert these propositions flatly; because, to do more, would doubtless be deemed superfluous, not to say impertinent, by those for whom I am writing! The readers of the Album, if I do not mistake them greatly, are not persons who require to be schooled or disciplined into a knowledge of the nature of things in general, or a perception of the results of different modifications and combinations of them. But, however this may be, if we writers of the Album do not give our readers some credit for their sagacity, how can we expect them to deal with the like generosity by us? For my part, I know the respect that is due to my betters (for what author will deny that his readers are his betters ?), and would on no account attempt to convince such betters of

any thing, even with their will-much less, against it: particularly as I know, that persons, who are convinced by any reasoning but their own, are apt to side more strongly than ever with the opposite opinion.

I shall, therefore, in the preliminary remarks that I have to make on the immediate subject of this paper, content myself with using assertions merely,—leaving the proofs of such assertions to suggest themselves (as they naturally and necessarily must) to all my readers. And I desire it may be expressly understood, that I adopt this course purely out of respect to the judgment and knowledge of the said readers :-for it will immediately occur to every one, how greatly I should facilitate my task (of writing an article), if I were to make an assertion of one line, and follow it by an argumentation of fifty. But I greatly suspect that this plan would not lead to either the amusement or the emolument of any one but myself. I shall, therefore, without further preface, take it for granted, that others are as capable of appreciating the truth of things as I am, and shall proceed to lay that truth before them accordingly-no better dressed than in its own bare simplicity and beauty.

Perhaps I should add, before I throw myself for good into the arms of my subject, that I am qualified to treat of Fighting simply as a spectator. I love it from what I see of it, not from what I feel. I admire it at a distance-as I do the stars. I am a mere reader of it, as I am of poetry; not a creator: for if I do now and then put on the gloves, and was once reckoned a pretty hand at a rally, it was merely in the character of a sparrer-whom I take to stand in the same relation to a fighter, that a mere versifier does to a poet.

There is one other point, too, in which I venture

to differ from all other lovers of fighting. I would VOL. III. PART I.

D

divorce this noble art from that hideous and incomprehensible jargon, or slang, which has, of late years, been introduced into its language, as if for the express purpose of mystifying, rather than ornamenting or illuminating. Why should the expressions which appertain to fighting be so round-about and metaphorical, when the thing itself is so very plain and straight-forward? Why should the words, which describe a blow and its effects, be so very recondite and far-fetched as to be scarcely cognizable even to the learned, when the blow itself is intelligible to the meanest capacity? In fact, in humble imitation of Mr. Wordsworth in the matter of written poetry, I would instantly banish from the acted poetry of fighting all modes of expression that do not strictly belong to the language of common life. We happily possess a well of English undefiled," that is deep and clear enough to supply all the wants even of the historians of "Sporting Intelligence," however extraordinary;" and should scorn to see an English fight described in any other than plain English.

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I would not be thought importunate on this point; and yet, as it is one nearest my heart, I must be allowed to press it a little farther. Is an English fighter, who can feel his blood flow from him in the field unmoved, afraid to see it in print-that it must be called "Claret?" Is his head no better than that of a knave of spadesthat it is to be nominated his nob?" Shall the seat of his "wind" (the very breath of his fighting existence) be demeaned into a mere receptacle for kitchen-stuff, and called his "bread-basket?” Shall getting an adversary's head under your arm, and giving him digs in the mouth till you can't hold him up any longer (which I take to be as unequivocal and truth-telling a proceeding as need be)-be styled "fibbing?" Does a

man's starting up on his legs like a hero, half a minute after you've knocked him down like an ox, deserve no better description than the scurvy one of " coming to the scratch?" Is it sufferable, that being hit off one's legs upon the beautiful green turf, "with his face to the sky, and his feet to the foe," should be designated by the ignoble phrase of "flooring?" flooring?" Above all, shall getting a sound beating, so that a man's own mother wou'dn't know him-(which is the delight and glory of a real good 'un,)—be transgressed into the lying phrase of being "well punished,”—as if we were speaking of a naughty school-boy?

That beggars and pickpockets should seek the "darkness" of a disguised language, is natural enough-because" their deeds are evil;" but that honest English fighters should wish to express themselves in any other than honest English words, that men whose deeds are as plain as their faces, and who have nothing close about them but their fists, should wish their actions to be recorded in a hidden language,-in short, that sons, who have such signal reason not to be ashamed of their mothers, should be ashamed of their mother tongue-is no less unaccountable than it is lamentable. But, perhaps, this is one of those evils which only require pointing out to be remedied; and accordingly, I do not despair of seeing spring up, immediately after the appear ance of the Fifth Number of the Album, a "Lake School" of fighters, who shall utterly discard that pedantical jargon, which is the only fault of the present race, and insist on their deeds being recorded as openly and intelligibly as they are acted ;-or (still better) who shall take to recording them themselves, and not suffer them to pass through the transmogrifying pen of paid writers, who have no doubt invented this method for the purpose

of keeping the most lucrative part of the profession in their own hands. I should be glad to know who is so capable of describing the effects of a blow, as the man who feels them? Or who so worthy of reaping the profits and the honours of such description? It is a lamentable thing to think of, that the only man who has made a fortune by fights, is one who never fought a battle in his life. I should be sorry to impugn the merits, or interfere with the interests, of the illustrious author of Boxiana, "so far from it, quite the reverse,"-as Witty Will, the Fulham coachman said, when they asked him if he was related to the man that had just been hanged; but I do hope that, for the future, fighters will seriously think of turning writers too, and thus embrace the enviable opportunity of "fighting their battles o'er again.”

Perhaps, fighting is, to those who do not immediately partake in it, one of the highest among "the Pleasures of Imagination;" and to those who do, it is, no doubt, a rich union of "the Pleasures of Hope" and "the Pleasures of Memory."-Who, then, shall deny, that it is the most poetical of pursuits? It is, therefore, with particular satisfaction that I direct the attention of the readers of the Album to this subject, at this time; because an unlucky cloud has lately passed across the hemisphere of the art, and has left behind it an unsightly streak, which at present a little dims its purity, and shades its lustre. But the Gas (to whose misdeeds I allude) is extinguished, never to burn again. And if his memory is destined to "stink in the nostrils of posterity," let us at least turn it to good account, by regarding it as a warning to the wavering virtue of others. "De mortu is nilnisi bonum," is a maxim that I discountenance altogether.—I would, in fact, substitute in its place one that is too often the direct opposite of it;

"De mor