tremely by
the audience before which he has to deliver his verdict. Now it takes a
good deal of strength of mind to give an unpopular verdict; and this
strength of mind is not necessarily associated with the bodily hardihood
of the champion boxer. Consequently, when the strength of mind is not
forthcoming, the audience becomes the judge, and the popular competitor
gets the verdict. And the shortest way to the heart of a big audience is
to stick to your man; stop his blows bravely with your nose and return
them with interest; cover yourself and him with your own gore; and
outlast him in a hearty punching match.

It was under these circumstances that the competitors for sparring
championships concluded that they had better decide the bouts themselves
by knocking their opponents out, and waste no time in cultivating a
skill and style for which they got little credit, and which actually set
some of the judges against them. The public instantly began to take an
interest in the sport. And so, by a pretty rapid evolution, the
dexterities which the boxing glove and the Queensberry rules were
supposed to substitute for the old brutalities of Sayers and Heenan were
really abolished by them.

Let me describe the process as I saw it myself. Twenty years ago a poet
friend of mine, who, like all poets, delighted in combats, insisted on
my sharing his interest in pugilism, and took me about to all the boxing
competitions of the day. I was nothing loth; for, my own share of
original sin apart, any one with a sense of comedy must find the arts of
self-defence delightful (for a time) through their pedantry, their
quackery, and their action and reaction between amateur romantic
illusion and professional eye to business.

The fencing world, as Moliere well knew, is perhaps a more exquisite
example of a fool's paradise than the boxing world; but it is too
restricted and expensive to allow play for popular character in a
non-duelling country, as the boxing world (formerly called quite
appropriately "the Fancy") does. At all events, it was the boxing world
that came under my notice; and as I was amused and sceptically
observant, whilst the true amateurs about me were, for the most part,
merely excited and duped, my evidence may have a certain value when the
question comes up again for legislative consideration, as it assuredly
will some day.

The first competitions I attended were at the beginning of the eighties,
at Lillie Bridge, for t