Young man, will you surrender, and come quietly with me?"

The only answer vouchsafed by the gallant young smuggler, was a rapid thrust at the officer, who as quickly parried it with his cutlass, and saying, "Your blood be upon your own head!"fired. Harry Brown bounded up in the air and fell on his face at Gilbert's feet, stark dead, with a bullet through his heart.

The neighbours, hearing the report, rushed out with lights to the scene, and there found Gilbert standing, with a pistol in one hand and his sword in the other. Even his iron heart relented, and his eyes grew dim as the childless mother flung herself upon the body of the dead boy, and poured forth her lament over him, in all the wild eloquence of sorrow. And Harry Brown shortly after was borne to the churchyard, and buried under the grey wall looking seaward; and every day for three wretched months did his heart-broken mother come to sit upon her child's grave, to mourn, like Rachel of old, refusing to be comforted.

Her mind, which had never been strong, gave way at last, and in six months from her son's death reason fled forever. She went to reside with a relative of her husband's, as a hopeless idiot. She was very quiet and perfectly inoffensive, and spent long hours each day in sitting on the brow of the cliff, looking over the sea, asking every passer-by "if he" (meaning her husband), "had come back yet?"

One morning they missed her from her accustomed seat on the cliff. They feared at first she had fallen over into the sea, till some villager said that he had seen her entering the churchyard, There by her son's grave, with her arms peacefully folded over her breast, lay poor Mrs. Brown as though asleep-lying there dead in the bright sunshine by her boy's grave.

And Brown, in his convict home, thousands of miles away, heard of these things by letter from his friends in England.

where he and his rollicking companions of "lang syne" had spent many a jovial hour; and while silently smoking his pipe, and listening to the conversation of a few sailors who were spending their evening there, he caught the following:

"Aye; it is just about twenty-five years ago since young Jack Brown was taken by that infernal Gilbert. I remember Jack well-as brave a lad as ever "ran in" a tub of brandy under yonder cliff. I wonder if he is still in foreign parts, poor lad."

"Ah," said the other, "it is well for Gilbert that Jack is a few thousand miles away over the herring-pond, or I fancy some fine morning we might see George Gilbert with a slit in his wizen, for I've heard 'em tell as how Jack swore, in a letter he wrote, when he heard from a friend here of his boy's death, that he would have his revenge -though he waited long years, and came back thousands of miles over the sea to take it." "Aye, lad; and Jack Brown will keep his oath some day-depend on't.

Thus talked they. It was evident they had forgotten him of whom they spoke. Brown said nothing; but ever and auon they could see a grim smile curl his lip, as the forelight played over his weatherbeaten face.

At last one of the sailors, turning to the stranger, said:

"Well, my hearty, you seem to take interest in our talk-did you know aught of poor Jack?"

"I did," replied the stranger laconically; "but let me ask in turn what has become of Gilbert ?" "He is at —, some ten miles from here," was the answer; when the stranger rose, called for his reckoning and "glasses round," and bade them good night. This was the last time that John Brown saw his native place again after a long absence.

The next night, in a miserable inn at the town where Gilbert was now stationed, a Preventive man and a tall, muscular stranger, in seafaring dress, were in close conversation over their grog. They talked of local matters in general, and smuggling in particular.

"Oh!" said the Preventive man, "there's not much chance of our making much by seizures now there are so few to make, since Mr. Gilbert came here. A mighty clever officer is he, too, I can tell you.

One wild night in November the escaped con.. viet sat on the oaken settle by the fireside of The Fortune of War," in a tavern

The stranger replied that he had not-and listened patiently to the man's yarn, in which the real facts were magnified by his vivid imagination to such an extent that the stranger could hardly repress a smile at times.

"He must be getting an elderly man now, this Mr. Gilbert ?"

"I should think a few years older than you-but then one is apt to be deceived; for he is a gloomy sort of man, and that may make him look older."

flashed through his mind-but the old spirit broke forth at the last. "Brown!" cried he-"you robbed me of her I loved-you now are about to murder me-a dying man's curse is yours tonight." Brown descended a foot lower-drew his knife-and severed the branch. There was a wild cry—a fearful crash-then all was still. The tide was running in, the tall, pointed rocks below received the miserable Gilbert in his fall. And as the moon shone down upon the ashy face of the murderer her beams revealed to his horrorstricken sight a mangled corpse.

Brown fled. Next morning, the revenue

officer's body was found by a fisherman, washed high and dry by the tide into a fissure of the cliff. The brow of the cliff above presented marks of a fearful struggle-but a coroner's inquest returned an open verdict-and, beyond vague surmises, nothing further was known how George Gilbert met his death.

Years after these events, an old man was knocked down by a cart in one of our sea-port towns, and taken to the hospital where he soon lay at the point of death. A clergyman was sent for; to him the dying man confessed all that I have told, and died. That man was the duellist, John Brown.

A SERIES of Australian sketches would be incomplete without some observation of a class that at one period occupied a very prominent position in society, and who, even at the present day, have no inconsiderable influence on the social condition of the early settled colonies of Australia. The avowed object of Great Britain in founding New South Wales and Van Diemen's Land being to rid herself of her criminals, those settlements had for a long time a very indifferent character; but from this stain Victoria and South Australia are exempt, both being free colonies, and they never have had convicts sent direct to their shores. An effort, indeed, was made by the Imperial Government, in 1849, to turn the former colony into a receptacle for the polluted citizens of the mother country, the Randolph was sent into Hobson's Bay freighted with convicts, but the people declared that they should not land, and the noxious cargo had to be sent to another quarter. Not many years since the emancipated convicts formed a very strong party, and both in Sydney and Hobart Town were supported by a portion of the newspaper press. In the island of Van Diemen's Land this party is still in existence, but in New South Wales the convict party has merged into the masses, and is held in solution in what I shall term general society. From its proximity to both the penal colonies, and from its great resources and advantages as a field for the exercise of honest industry and less creditable pursuits, Victoria has received a large share of expirees (as these convicts whose term of sentence has been served are designated); indeed, so limited was the free emigration to this colony from the year 1843 to the discovery

of gold in 1851, that a very considerable portion of the labour had to be taken from this tainted source. From this convict leaven the labouring classes in what is termed the bush have been tainted with various vicious peculiarities, from which they would otherwise have been free; and they, it is to be hoped, will speedily disapper. The men who have been convicts are termed "old hands ;" they are mostly rude, rough men, with no moral principle or religious feeling, and who have little sympathy for humanity. They do not exhibit much desire to marry and settle, as is usually the case with free emigrants; they spend their wages as soon as they are earned, and seem to have little wish to accumulate money. From their expertness in splitting timber, building, fencing, and, indeed, all pursuits of bush life, and by their remaining single and evincing no disposition to emerge from their social position as menial servants, they are much liked by many squatters and farmers, particularly by such as are not married, and look at the material rather than the moral prospect. When they can be kept at a distance from temptation they are generally civil and faithful, and nearly always, while at work, industrious. Those not acquainted with their character might be easily deceived into the belief that they were a reformed class, but they would soon discover their error, for, if excited by intoxicating drinks or violent passions, the men so subdued or humble in appearance would behave like demons. Hardly one of them could be trusted in the vicinity of a public-house; whatever situation of trust he was in he could not resist the temptation to get drunk. They have nearly all lost their

own self-esteem, and have no desire to gain the good opinion of others; they herd together and only seem happy in the society of such as themselves; many of them seem to desire nothing better than hanging about the country, working to live and to obtain the means of gratifying their vicious inclinations. When their wages are due they go no farther than the nearest hotel to dissipate them. When the money has all melted away they return to work again for more, to be spent in the same manner; perhaps upon some occasion they take a trip to one of the towns and become entangled with dissipated women in such cases they return to their former dishonest practices, until they fall into the hands of the police. After they have served a certain time in some jail or stockade, if they conduct themselves quietly they receive a ticket-of-leave for some bush district, where they return to their former mode of life. The strange inconsistency between their quiet orderly conduct when employed on a station or farm, and their violent and vicious behaviour when they are indulging themselves amongst their associates, will be recognised as a marked feature in the character of this class by all who have had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with their peculiarities. A squatter informed me that he had an old hand with him so long, that he became almost attached to him; he once saw him jump into a creek to save the life of a man who was almost a stranger to him, and that he could pay him for what timber he had split upon his word without going to count the heaps; he had often known him assist his fellow-workmen about the station, not by lending, but by actually giving them money. This man had been a considerable time with him, and was deemed by my informant trustworthy. Unfortunately some person brought a bottle of rum to the station, and the apparently reformed man got drunk. He changed his clothes and disappeared, and the next information of him that reached the station was that he had committed highway robbery accompanied by murder, and a reward was offered for his apprehension. My informant was afraid that he might return, not that he feared any outrage, but because he should have deemed it his duty to have taken him to the nearest police station. It seemed, however, that he did not calculate upon his forbearance, for he was not again heard of, but had no doubt been apprehended at some other time under a different It is fortunate for the respectable classes that the old hands seldom seek for work in the agricultural and densely-peopled districts; they nearly all appear to prefer the background of civilisation, where the wide region of swamps and forests, occupied merely

name.

627'

by the flocks and herds of the squatters, afford a refuge to the outcasts of society. When the diggings broke out many migrated to the gold fields, but as they returned to their vicious courses they have mostly either been convicted and are undergoing the punishment of their offences, or have again retired to the solitudes of the far interior. The intelligent people in Australia deplore the intrusion of so depraved a class amongst the working people, the majority of whom are virtuous free immigrants; they derive great comfort, however, from the reflection, that those elements of. corruption cannot strike deep root-that as the impure stream of transportation has ceased to flow into any of the Australian colonies (except the isolated settlement of Western Australia

on the other side of the continent), that its effects upon society will not be lasting. The illimitable territory, the advantages of climate and soil, will draw countless immigrants of a pure and virtuous. character to Australia, while the old hands, being mostly unmarried, will gradually disappear not alone from the free colonies, but also from the old penal colonies; for the people of Australia will never admit of a penal settlement being formed so nigh their shores as to pollute their fair territories again by the profligates and criminals of Great Britain. Nor should the parent state attempt to debauch her off-shoots. A great country ought to reproduce in her colonies a fac simile of herself; each should have the same language, laws, institutions, and virtues, as the parent state; and such a country perpetrates a mighty crime if, instead of fostering its colonies with paternal care, it takes advantage of their weakness and inability to resist, and casts its felony abroad amongst quiet and virtuous colonists, thereby preventing the development of free institutions and social happiness, and engendering a profligacy of manners which tends to sap the morals of the youth of both sexes. In a word, Great Britain ought to pay as much attention to the morals as to the commercial and material prosperity of her dependencies.

If the well-known proverb, "honesty is the best policy," holds in any part of the world, it is in Australia. In this "paradise of working men" no person has the slightest excuse for committing offences against life and property. Any tradesman can earn from fifteen shillings to a pound a day in Victoria, and nearly as high wages in the other colonies, and ordinary labourers receive ten shillings anywhere. It is natural to suppose that no man who could do this would rather live by dishonest practices; but there are numbers of the convict class who cannot be honest and live by legitimate means. I happened to be conversing with Mr. John Price, Inspector-General of Convicts, only a

ew days before he was barbarously murdered by the convicts of the Success hulk, at Williamstown, Victoria, on this subject. Few men have had such favourable opportunities of judging of the convict character as that unfortunate gentlemen, who had been nearly all his life employed in superintending them. Mr. Price had been in charge of Norfolk Island, which was the Malebolge of criminal depravity -the penal settlement of the penal colonies. In consequence of the fearful revelations made in reference to this place by the Rev. Mr. Naylor and other philanthropical individuals, it was broken up, and Mr. l'rice was removed to Van Diemen's Land, and was superintending the worst of the criminals at Port Arthur. He knew many of the worst criminals by sight, and could call them by their names, and understood their tempers and characters. In reply to my question Do you in your punishment look to the reformation of convicts? he said that the only reformation that could be expected from the hardened convicts was to impress upon their minds that honesty was the best policy; and many cannot be prevailed upon to abandon their nefarious courses even from that being made apparent. Mr. Price pointed to a number of prisoners, and exclaimed-"How can I believe in reformation when there are men here who are excellent tradesmen, able to earn a pound a day, and who will not adopt honest courses to live, but who, when discharged from custody, will return here for new crimes in perhaps a month!" I inquired if he found it necessary to keep the convicts on board the hulks in irons, and if kind treatment would not do something towards commencing a reformation in their character? Mr. Price said, "No; that unless the prisoners on board the hulks were ironed, no man's life would be safe." He quoted numerous instances of violent outrages, particularly of an attempt made by the prisoners on board the Success to murder him. Fortunately on this occasion he received information from one of the prisoners, and thus escaped. Mr. Price had great courage, but had often escaped premeditated attempt on his life in consequence of information sent him by the less hardened ruffians. He had under his immediate charge about nine hundred prisoners in the Collingwood and Pentrige Stockade, and about four hundred of the double-distilled criminals, nearly all sentenced to from fifteen to twenty-five years' hard labour; and being without any hope of recovering their freedom by the ordinary course of events, they were daring and reckless to a degree almost inconceivable. About a week after this conversation the superintendent of the Success hulk was landing his men, as usual, to work at a place near Williamstown named Gillibrand's Point, when one of the prisoners named Taylor

complained that his bread had been taken from him by the chief warder. The man was taken on board the Success, but the other men refused to work in consequence of the dispute about Taylor, and Mr. Price was sent for. He went amongst the prisoners, as usual unarmed, but this was not apparently so very hazardous an undertaking, there being a cordon of armed warders and five or six overseers, who, however, are most frequently unarmed. There were about eighty men in the gang, and they were at work upon a causeway near the sea. When the Inspector-General reached them several individuals complained about the bread, and also of the soup. One man also asked several questions in reference to his indulgence. A gang of prisoners came up in the usual course of work, and while Mr. Price was speaking to them the whole body of prisoners ran up, notwithstanding the exertions of the overseers, and having surrounded Mr. Price, attacked him and the overseers. The Inspector-General was struck with a stone on the head; he ran down the causeway towards the sea in a vain endeavour to escape, but was overtaken and struck violently with a shovel on the head, and when down about thirty ruffians closed upon him, dragged him along, beat him with great violence; and when at length the unfortunate gentleman was rescued, life was almost extinct. He lingered a few hours in great agony, but never rallied or afforded the medical men in attendance the slightest hope of recovery.

From this sad incident it will be gathered that the prisoners confined in these hulks are the worst of the class; and even the Success men, who murdered Mr. Price, are not the worst. There are a select few in another hulk, the President, who are never allowed to go on shore to work, and who have to be kept ironed and in solitary cells. Amongst this number Mr. Price informed me that there were some of the cream of criminals-the worst of the incorrigibles, sent from Britain to Norfolk Islandmost accomplished villains, who had been lured from the penal colonies by our gold fields. Mr. Price pointed to one man who had been three times sentenced to be hanged within his own knowledge; and, in fact, there was not a man amongst them to whom crime had not been familiar, and many were so unmanageable as to be more like wild beasts than human beings. For some days after the sad catastrophe which I have recorded, it was expected that the convicts on board the Presi dent and Success would have escaped, and it was found necessary to have the sloop-of-war Victoria and a police vessel alongside, with their guns shotted ready to fire. So great was the insubordination, that it was a long period before the men could be trusted out to work, even heavily ironed.