discovering, and sometimes inventing crime.
Lagged works on at the plate, and finishes it,
with anxious and suspicious eyes ever on the
door of his workroom. He goes, at the hour and
day appointed, to take the plate to Mr. Judas,
his employer; is dogged, seized by the
constables with the plate in his hands, examined
before a magistrate, and swept off to London
and Newgate, for what seems certain death.

In. prison, Lagged is lucky enough to find
friends in some influential visitors; they interest
the solicitors and engraver of the Bank of England.
Here, religion softens him, and he
became a changed man. Soon he is removed to
Warwick for trial, pleads guilty, is sentenced
to death; and this sentence, ultimately, by
influential intercession with the Secretary of State,
commuted to transportation for life—a slower
and more merciful death. At Warwick gaol,
Lagged seems to have been kindly treated, as he
gratified the Bank authorities by making many
disclosures about the various remedies of forgery.
He rose at six, had three cups of tea and a cake
for breakfast; two eggs, with a glass of wine,
for dinner; and a crust and a glass of wine at
night—sometimes a walk in the governor's
garden—then bed at eight. At Newgate, he
had the chain on his leg, and the degradation of
perpetual staring visitors. Here at Warwick, the
being allowed nothing but a tin knife was almost
his only humiliation. In one week, however,
eight men were hung from the prison, for at this
time Justice had her weekly battues. It was a
terrible moment for the prisoner's heart when
his wife came to take farewell of him, and saw,
printed in black letters over the fireplace of the
cell, those ghastly, coffin-plate words,
"IMPRISONED FOR LIFE!"

After narrowly escaping being sent, as some
of his persecutors wished, to the West Indies—
as soon as the gaols are clear of nine hundred
guilty Cains, who have been shipped off—
Lagged is sent to a gaol at Portsmouth, and
there makes an enemy of a fellow prisoner, who,
being reproved for swearing, promises he will
get Lagged "double ironed;" but, unluckily
striking a turnkey, is himself punished, so fails
to fulfil his charitable promise.

At last, comes the order to start. The governor
takes him to the shore in his gig, fourteen
other prisoners following in a waggon.

Lagged pines for months on board the
Captivity hulk, surrounded by five hundred sick,
hopeless ruffians, whom he employs his time
in teaching. The greatest "black" on board
becomes under his care an improved man. All
that come near seem to grow gentler and tamer.
He will not let his child come to see him, that
he may not be shocked by the sight of his
father's irons. He found the worst villains the
greatest hypocrites, attending the sacrament for
the wine, and singing hymns at the captain's
door to, what they called, "Blind the Skipper,"
that is, to induce him not to have them sent to
the dreaded Bay. The last days of Lagged in
the hulks were spent in cutting ornaments out
of beef bones, and in. writing to the Bank,
denouncing the wove paper as easily imitable by
forgers, and suggesting various precautions.

Going out to "the Bay," Lagged was treated
kindly. The convicts never addressed him without
putting a respectful Mr. before his name.
His wife and child accompany him, and he is
allowed the carpenter's cabin for himself and family.

At Rio Janeiro Lagged earned some money
by piercing plates for tradesmen's cards, and
could have got more by making crucifixes; but
in spite of the idols and slave-chains that his
native place (Birmingham) exports, his scruples
would not let him earn money.

At Derwent River, where a settlement was then
forming, Lagged becomes, on landing in
Australia, quite a leading mind. He begins the soap
trade and buys tallow, and discovers a plant
that produces the marine alkali, or soda, equal to
the best London pearlash. The governor soon
declared he would rather lose any ten persons
in the colony than Lagged. At Oystermouth
Bay, the quick-witted man feeds his sheep on
tea (during a scarcity)—tea which he had found
and manufactured himself at Port Phillip. He
encourages whale fishing, and makes a large
profit by soap. The governor allows him to
pursue his own trades, and to build a house
close to his.

Of the missionaries of that time, the letters
of Lagged give an unsavoury account.  Their
best man was a sulky old discharged ship's
carpenter, who quarrelled with everybody, and
was so lazy that he would eat his meat raw
rather than take the trouble to cook it. The
name of "missionary" was then a byword at
Sydney. Some missionaries intrigued with
the natives, others entered into trade, and
gave up religion as a less profitable profession.
Others, as at Otaheite, fomented divisions
between two warring tribes of aborigines, which
led to a battle, wherein a black king was killed,
and the pro-missionaries routed with slaughter.
The result was, that the diplomatic missionaries
only escaped massacre by at once shipping for
Sydney.

Seven years of labour followed, and Lagged,
escaping an Irish riot, where three hundred
men were killed, grew every day more respected
and beloved, and in due time, just after
settling at Hobart Town, received a free pardon.

With all the love and good opinion he had
here, however, Lagged was never happy. The
brand of degradation was on him. The iron had
entered into his soul. The scar of the wound was
indelible. He burned now, at the close of his
life, to expiate the crime he had long since
repented of. Strong as were his ties, both of love
and interest, in the new colony, he determined
to break them all and go and die where he was
launched—at home. Governor Collins, now
known in history as "the good governor," was
deeply sorry to part with so useful a coadjutor
as Lagged; but, giving up his house and garden,
and well-stocked farm and manufactory, he
prepared to sail for England. In the midst of
these preparations his friend the governor
suddenly fell sick and died. Now his strongest