printed envelope that had contained Court
Plaster. He instantly recollected the black
stripes on the robber's face. He walked to
the village shop, and asked if they had lately
sold any quantity of Court Plaster?' O yes,
sir, we sold several papers to your coachman.'

"A constable was sent for, and an hour
after Sir Lionell had driven to the shop, the
man was identified and seized.

"'I came into your room,' he afterwards
said, 'with a fixed determination to kill you,
but your interceding for me in my supposed
illness quite disarmed me.'

When committed to Newgate, upon this
clear statement of robbery, he subsequently
owned that it was he who had committed
the robbery of which Mr. Deacon was
accused. Mr. Deacon was therefore released.
When he was about to quit the prison, Mr.
Manners, his faithful friend, said, 'Before
leaving this dreadful place we must see your
likeness.' They were admitted to his cell.
The moment Mr. Deacon saw him he fainted
away, as if he had been shot. Mr. Manners,
when his friend recovered, said to him,
'Although I am so intimate with you, I could
not have believed, had I met this man
anywhere, that it was not yourself. Had any
doubt crossed me, the moment I heard him
speak, I could no longer have had one.'

"The real culprit, I need not add, was
hanged."

COOLNESS AMONG THIEVES.

SOME years ago, I went, says the governor
of a metropolitan prison, as was my daily
custom, to the "Reception Ward," which
contained the prisoners committed on the
preceding day, who yet retained their own
clothes. Amongst a herd— for the most part
of dirty vagabonds— stood a well-dressed
young man, about twenty-five years of age, of
fine stature, mild and intelligent countenance.
Struck by his appearance, I inquired the
cause of his committal.

"A lamentable mistake," he replied. "I
am accused of having picked the pocket of an
officer of the Guards, at a Bazaar; but I am
a gentleman, connected with one of the best
families in the country. My name is Hawkesbury.
My father is a Major in the Army;
and he will be thrown into a state of great
distress by my apprehension."

His address was so free from the affectation
of distress or excitement, that I really
thought there had been some error. I
consequently whispered words of consolation;
advised an appeal to the Home Secretary, by
his relatives, assuring the young man of
promp redress, should he have been committed
wrongfully. He sighed deeply, modestly
expressed his thanks; and I left him with the
persuasion that he was the victim of a
mistake. He told me his father had been
made acquainted with his arrest, and that
steps would forthwith be taken to insure his
release.

The prisoner was, in due course, clothed in
the prison dress, and consigned to the ward
allotted to "rogues and vagabonds." On that
very forenoon I was seated in my office,
when a stranger, apparently fifty years of age.
of elegant exterior, and seeming to labour
under irrepressible emotion, was shown in.
Sobs seemed to choke his utterance, and some
minutes elapsed before he could convey to me,
that he was "the father of an unhappy young
man named Hawkesbury."

Then ensued the reiteration of family
connexions (a baronet was affirmed to be a
relative), of the deplorable error of so disgraceful
a charge against a gentleman of good station,
and of the terrible consequences which might
result from the communication to certain
members of the family. To my recommendation
to address himself to the Secretary of
State, the agonised father replied that the
exposure of the family name would be a grave
infliction— "the thing was impossible!" After
a prolonged scene of mental distress, Hawkesbury
was left to undergo his sentence of six
weeks' imprisonment, with hard labour; and
I was implored to treat him with all possible
lenity. The young man observed the most
unexceptionable conduct, and was in due time
discharged.

About two years had rolled on since this
occurrence, when daily duty took me again
to the Reception Ward; and there, again,
amongst the host of delinquents, stood the
fashionable "Hawkesworth," now no longer.
"Hawkesbury." I started with astonishment,
and again had occasion to remark his calm and
stoical imperturbability. I received his former
protestations of mistake, family connections,
&c., &c., with avowed incredulity; and,
assuring him that he should not impose upon
me a second time, I consigned him to the
treadwheel without a grain of my original
remorse. He was, on this last occasion,
sentenced to imprisonment for three months, for
picking a gentleman's pocket at the Italian
Opera.

The outer gate of the prison is furnished
with ponderous knockers; and, while in
conversation with a county magistrate, in my
office, we were both startled by a knock, so
long and loud, that it made the whole building
reverberate. Presently in stepped a well-
dressed man, who, in the loudest accents, and
with the loftiest carriage, demanded, "Is the
Governor within?" The gatekeeper doffed
his hat, and with the utmost respect answered
in the affirmative. The stranger was accordingly
admitted, and rushing up to me, and
addressing me by name, seized my hand
eagerly, and shook it with the cordiality of
an old friend. I was amazed. "You have
the advantage of me, Sir," said I; "I have
not the pleasure to remember you."

"No?" said he, with an assumption of
gravity. " Why, I had the misfortune to have
to seek your good offices two years ago, in
behalf of an unfortunate young man, who—"