and as each sheet passed through the press
twice, the words added at the second printing,
"For the Governor and Company of the Bank
of England," could have fallen into their
proper place on any one of the sheets, only by
a miracle. But what would have made the
forgery clear to even a superficial observer
was the singular omission of the second "n"
in the word England.*
*Bad orthography was by no means uncommon in the
most importand documents at that period; the days of
the week, in the day-books of the Bank of England itself, are
spelt in a variety of ways.

The criticism on Vaughan's note of a Bank
clerk examined on the trial was:—" There is
some resemblance, to be sure; but this note"
(that upon which the prisoner was tried)
"is numbered thirteen thousand eight
hundred and forty, and we never reach so high
a number." Besides there was no water-mark
in the paper. The note of which a fac-simile
appeared in our eighteenth number, and dated
so early as 1699, has a regular design in the
texture of the paper; showing that the watermark
is as old as the Bank notes themselves.

Vaughan was greatly commiserated. But
despite the unskilfulness of the forgery, and
the insignificant consequences which followed
it, the crime was considered of too dangerous
a character not to be marked, from its very
novelty, with exemplary punishment. Hanging
created at that time no remorse in the
public mind, and it was thought necessary to
set up Vaughan as a warning to all future
Bank note forgers. The crime was too
dangerous not to be marked with the severest
penalties. Forgery differs from other crimes
not less in the magnitude of the spoil it may
obtain, and of the injury it inflicts, than in
the facilities attending its accomplishment.
The common thief finds a limit to his
depredations in the bulkiness of his booty, which is
generally confined to such property as he can
carry about his person; the swindler raises
insuperable and defeating obstacles to his
frauds if the amount he seeks to obtain is so
considerable as to awaken close vigilance or
enquiry. To carry their projects to any very
profitable extent, these criminals are reduced
to the hazardous necessity of acting in concert,
and thus infinitely increasing the risks of
detection. But the forger need have no
accomplice; he is burdened with no bulky
and suspicious property; ho needs no receiver
to assist his contrivances. The skill of his own
individual right hand can command
thousands; often with the certainty of not being
detected, and oftener with such rapidity as
to enable him to baffle the pursuit of justice.

It was a long time before Vaughan's rude
attempt was improved upon: but in the
same year, (1758), another department of the
crime was commenced with perfect success;—
namely, an ingenious alteration, for fraudulent
purposes, of real Bank notes. A few months
after Vaughan's execution, one of the northern
mails was stopped and robbed by a highwayman;
several Bank notes were comprised in
the spoil, and the robber, setting up with
these as a gentleman, went boldly to the
Hatfield Post-office, ordered a chaise and four,
rattled away down the road, and changed
a note at every change of horses. The
robbery was, of course, soon made known, and
the numbers and dates of the stolen notes
were advertised as having been stopped at
the Bank. To the genius of a highwayman
this offered but a small obstacle, and the
gentleman-thief changed all the figures "1"
he could find into " 4's." These notes passed
currently enough; but, on reaching the Bank,
the alteration, was detected, and the last
holder was refused payment. As that person
had given a valuable consideration for the note,
he brought an action for the recovery of the
amount; and at the trial it was ruled by the
Lord Chief Justice, that "any person paying
a valuable consideration for a Bank note,
payable to bearer, in a fair course of business,
has an understood right to receive the money
of the Bank."

It took a quarter of a century to bring the
art of forging Bank notes to perfection. In
1779, this was nearly attained by an ingenious
gentleman named Mathison, a watchmaker,
from the matrimonial village of Gretna Green.
Having learnt the arts of engraving and of
simulating signatures, he tried his hand at the
notes of the Darlington Bank; but, with the
confidence of skill, was not cautious in passing
them, was suspected, and absconded to
Edinburgh. Scorning to let his talent be wasted,
he favoured the Scottish public with many
spurious Royal Bank of Scotland notes, and
regularly forged his way by their aid to
London. At the end of February he took
handsome lodgings in the Strand, opposite
Arundel Street. His industry was remarkable;
for, by the 12th of March, he had
planed and polished rough pieces of copper,
engraved them, forged the water-mark, printed
and negotiated several impressions. His plan
was to travel and to purchase articles in shops.
He bought a pair of shoe-buckles at Coventry
with a forged note, which was eventually
detected at the Bank of England. He had got
so bold that he paid such frequent visits in
Threadneedle Street that the Bank clerks
became familiar with his person. He was
continually changing notes of one, for another
denomination. These were his originals, which
he procured to make spurious copies of.
One day seven thousand pounds came in
from the Stamp Office. There was a
dispute about one of the notes. Mathison,
who was present, though at some distance,
declared, oracularly, that the note was a good
one. How could he know so well? A dawn
of suspicion arose in the minds of the clerks;
one trail led into another, and Mathison was
finally apprehended. So well were his notes
forged that, on the trial, an experienced Bank
clerk declared he could not tell whether the
note handed him to examine was forged or