[All Rights Reserved.] RECOLLECTIONS OF CONVICT LIFE

Otago Witness, Issue 1797, 30 April 1886, Page 25

[All Rights Reserved.] RECOLLECTIONS OF CONVICT LIFE

IN NORFOLK ISLAND AND VICTOItU With. Prison Portraits, being Sketches of Criminals and Prison Governors, hicluclhi'j the early Life, Career, and Death of John Price, and of the Bushrangers Bill;/ Morgan, Bivrgcss, §c.' By Henry Garrett, alias Rouse, tub Bushranger. DICK BURGESS. Chapper XIII. SecsL thuu a man wisp in his own conceit: there is more hope of a fool than he. — Proverbs. By way of contrast, I hang the portrait of Dick Burgess side by side with that of Captain Melville. A few weeks ago I read Burgess' autobiography, written in Nelson Gaol while h.j was awaiting his trial. Of its merits as a composition I need only say that it is as much boyond criticism as he himself was beyond pity, and it verifies the truth of the old aphorism th it " A little learning is a. dangerous thing." Poor Dick ! For his own sake he ought never to have written that nasty thiug. He did so with a purpose few will perceive, although it was patent to me at first sight. That purpose was a double one : to exonerate Levy and Kelly, and to make out to "his own class that he Was a hero. He failed in both objects. His farmer associates well know that the long catalogue of robberies and murders he enumerated \ras a tissue of lies. They are false feathers which he_ plucked from every bird in the convict aviary to adorn himself with. The free public — the few who will read his life — may be under the impression that he was the terrible fellow he represents himself to be from the war-paint with which he has, like a North American Indiau, bedaubed himself, but those who were intimately acquainted with him are well aware, that his boastings are simply a repetition of JEsop's fablo of " The Ass in the Lion's Skin." His attempt to exonerate Levy and Kelly, though it did not have the ghost of a chance of success, was in strict accordance with the freebooter's notions of honour, and would have raised him in the estimation of men of hiy own stamp ; but the approval this action might have brought wa* completely lost in the feeling of contempt aroused by his bedecking 'himr-elf in stolen plumes. Whatever may be the crimes, the vices, the faults, or the failings of convicts, they have an appreciation of each other's merits, au.l thoroughly despise the arrogant pretence which is the distinguishing characteristic of Dick's autobiography. Burgess makes honourable mention of your humble servant as the greatest coward ha ever knew — a statement I will not dispute, as every act of our two livus proves me to have been as cowardly as he was brave. I am also depicted as a dangerous iufidel, and Dick, overflowing with pure Christian charity, prays for mo. As these prayers worts so efficacious in his own case —and if, like St. Peter and St. Paul of blessed memory, he still prays for the living — there is yet hope that through thun cv :n I may become a babe of grace, and join lk'.y Dick in the New Jerusalem.

I intended to have kept Dick's autobiography, but was unable to do so, in order to take some extracts from it — not l.w, iy spirit of vindictiveness, for he is dead tin-, li'^.ond that, even if I had ever harboured any such feeling, which I have not, the estimate I formed of him has not been affected by anything he has said about me, for inside or outside our own class no one will judge me by what Dick says. This notice of his career will be just what it would have been had I never perused a line he had written, and the feelings I entertain towards him are the same — namely, pity and contempt for him as a man, a thief, and a writer. In the account of his life Burgess commences — like all penitent thieves who have written their own historics — with the stale old assurance that he was born of honest, pious, and respectable parents. Of course he was. The nobility of his descent was stamped on every feature, as well as on every act of his adventurous life.

Like many others, Dick seeks distinction by blasting what ought to be, next to his own life, most dear to him — a mother's reputation. Dick's father, according to his own account, was a dashing Lifeguardsman. How contemptible the vanity which tries to attain notoriety by such means.

Burgess informs us that he came out to Geelong as a ticket-of-leave man. He may havo done so, but I am tolerably certain those men were transported only to the penal Colonies. The probability is he landed at Hobart Town, and made his way to Port Phillip. As to his boasted proficiency as a London pickpocket, it is all bunkum. He never showed it in the Colonies— never attempted it ; and a clever London thief will not abandon his craft and follow the honest occupation of a groam, as he did.

Tho first place I saw Burgess was in Geelong, about the year 1850. I was grubbing away at my trade, earning from 30s to 40s per week, while Dick boasted he \vu.a spending his £100 weekly. From bis low, flash, Colonial style of

dress, and "his clothes not being over new or clean, he might have been taken for a doctor's flunkey, a livery-stable cad, a copper's flat, a publican's potboy, or any of a dozen equally respectable callings. I happen to know the man he boasts ho was " copping " (horse-stealing) in company with — Phil Dalej', a rank old duffer; a bigger loafer and " blower " never roamed in the Colonies.

Dick suddenly disappeared from my vision — where I had no thought or care, as we had not spoken to each other, but I found out in after year.s where he had gone to.

Amongst ourselves there are as many grades as there are trades amongst honest people. The men who compose the lowest grade are termed " outsiders " — men who never take any active part in a robbery, but put others on to do it, stand by while it is carried out, and then step in for their share of the plunder. They adopt the same tactics when they hear that a robbery is about to be committed, and they are as a rule too much feared to meot with a refusal. Occasionally, however, they get more than they have bargained for, and consequently never try the game on again. These mean fellows are the pariahs of our class — the jackals who feed on the offal anil crumbs the nobler animals leave for or fling to them. They often lead hotter men than themselves to prey, and sometimes to destruction ; and, when possible, they are shunned, and not infrequently put aside. Inside or outside of gaol they are always the same : tho most flash and impudent, the greatest " blowers," and the greatest curs. Of this class Dick was a distinguished member. His sudden disappearance was caused by his putting himself in a highway robbery as an " outsider." Three men garotted some person ; Dick was on the watch, and when the job was done stepped up and said, " I'm in it," and received a small dole. All four were arrested, tried, and convicted, and wera sentenced to terms of imprisonment ranging from seven to ten rears.

This was the version tho three principals gave of the affair, though in his autobiography Dick states that his first Colonial conviction was for the committal of some daring exploit. While doing this sentence he and some others — his three friends were not included in the number — made a foolish attempt at escape, which resulted in failure, and they were flogged. Dick bore his punishment without wincing, thereby gaining the reputation among his companions of being a fire-eater. I am not aware how long he served of this sentence, nor do I know the date of his discharge nor when he was next convicted. There could not have been a great interval, however, between the two last, for in 1855 I found him on the lower deck of the President hulk ; yet in his autobiography during this short space of time he squeezes in a countless number of robberies and murders — some committed by others, but most of them were emanations from Dick's imagination.

Frank Melville was on board the President at this time, and imparted to Dick that small amount of learning which the latter was so fond of parading Dick attached himself to Melville like a spaniel, deluding himself with the idea that it gave him more importance in the eyes of his fellows.

On Burgess and Melville being transferred to the labour gang, Frank inducted him in the art of stone-cutting, in which, as at pocket-picking, he excelled all others, while Dick was a poor hand at either. In the prison quarry Burgess put on the same jaunty, flash air he assumed outside. Flattered by tho notice Frank took of him, he made himself both ridiculous and offensive. He might have acquired from Frank a little modesty of demeanour and speech, had he followed his example ; but modesty was a quality as foreign to Dick's disposition as flashness was to Frank's. I have often wondered bow two such opposite natures agreed — how Frank tolerated Dick's vulgarity, and Dick respected those qualities in Frank which he himself did not possess.

When Melville and his party seized the boat belonging to the hulk, Dick was the only man who was struck by any of the many shots fired at them. This atfair, in which he was a mere cypher, made him think more of himself than ever. He was proudev of having been one of the boat pirates than was the Earl of Cardigan of having led the Light Btigade at Balaclava — prouder of his slighs wound than another man would be of tho Victoria Cross or the Humane Society's medal. I am not certain whether Dick or mj self left Pentrklge first, but I think I got my discharge before he die). I next dropped across him in Dunedin. He met Tommy Kflly in Melbourne, and although they had not previously known each other they soon came to an understanding, and agreed to travel together as mates to New Zealand. Tommy found the passage-money — Dick, as usual, being " hard up." The partnership very nearly came to grief soon al tor it was entered into, through chivalrous Dick robbing and brutally ill-using an unfortunate girl he had been stopping with.

Burgess and Kelly left Dunodin For Gabriel's Gully, and upon arriving thuie they met an old Victorian acquaintance (in all probability a Vandiemonian), who with some " squareheads " was digging for the precious uict". 1 !Te conducted them to his tent, and while he was absent for a few minutes procuring them some food they requited his hospitality by robbing his mate's bed or box of £70, leaving their friend under the suspicion of having stolen it. Almcst before the money was missed they lost £40 of it in gambling with a shanty-keeper named Montgomery, whom Dick anathematises in his pious and edifying autobiography ; but the mean theft — the largest he had as yet been engaged in — he is entirely silent about.

The robbing of the banker and gold-buyer at Gabriel's would have been an accomplished fact only that Kelly could not spur Dick up to the mark. He had not yet done anything in the " Toby" line. He boasted to so many persons about their intention to rob the banker that every loafer and thief on the diggings knew of it, and it even came to the knowledge of tho banker himself and the police ; so that there was no use in attempting to carry out the project. Kelly reproached him with having spoiled this " plant before a whole yard of prisoners. On hearing of the projected robbery the police were on the alert, and hunted them up. They bolted, hiding in the scrub by day, and returning to the diggings at nightfall.

They were in the habit of frequenting a shanty kept by a woman whom they knew. One night there were several drunken diggers in this place, and the shanty-keeper had just robbed one of them of £90. Whispering to our two friends, she said :

" That cove holds it heavy. Ease him of his money, but not in here. Persuade him to go to some other place."

They did so, and on tho way they knocked him down and robbed him, but all they got was a few shillings.

The man, not knowing the woman had been beforehand with Dick and Kelly, believed they had robbed him of all his money, and went to the camp and reported the matter to th« police,

who visited the shanty, and ascertained from the woman who the two men were with whom he had left the tent.

After robbing the digger Dick and Kelly returned to the shanty, and told the woman what, they had got. The shanty-keener pretends Ito bo very indignant, and accused them of swindling her out of her share of the booty ; and while quarrelling over this they were nearly nabbed by the police. They were regularly euchred. Next day the police and diggers hunted them out of the scrub and up the mountain side, firing at but not hitting them. In scrambling up tho hill Dick's pistol accidentally went off, the bail penetrating his boot and slightly wounding him in the toe. The diggers and police thought they were being fired upon, and, getting tired of the chase, returned.

A day or two afterwards they were arrested. They were tried for firing ou the police, convicted, and sentenced to three years' imprisonment each.

Kelly was thoroughly disgusted with Burgus*, and taunted him with his want of pluck. This was terribly mortifying to Dick. The Pre.-.s was ringing with accounts of his audacity aud ferocity, and to have these nullified by taunts of cowardice from a mate, and before men of his own class, was not consoling to his vanity. How easy it is for the Press aud police to manufacture a thief's reputation, or to destroy an honest man's credit.

While undergoing his three years' sentence Dick and several other prisoners, including myself, made an unsuccessful attempt to hrcak out of gaol. Kelly, on account of Dick's ..want of courage, refused to join us. The two men had become bitter enemies since their conviction. Dick aimed to be in Dunedin what Melville had been in Melbourne — the hero of bis class. But never was there a baser counterfeit, a more spurious imitation. It was iuteusely ridiculous to watch him, and see the airs of importance he gave himself.

Discontent at the prison treatment arose, and not without good cause, aud Dick put himself up as the leader in endeavouring to obtain redress. I accord him all praise for the action he took on this occasion, though in this, as in all else he did, ho was prompted by a spirit of pure vauity. The magistrate s refused to allow them any concession, and they were punished for complaining. Dick applied for permission to write a statement of tho prisoners' grievances, with a view of submitting it to his Honor the Superintendent. This was regarded as rank treason, and punished accordingly. Dick then refused to work, and persuaded others to follow his example, until an inquiry was instituted and their complaints redressed.

The gaol authorities reported that the prisoners were mutinous aud dangerous, and the same magistrates — three justices of tho j.eict) — sentenced Dick and two or three others to be flogged for mutiny.

That flogging changed Dick's wholo nature. He had been flogged more than once previously, had suffered various other forms of punishment, and had always borne them wich firmness. He had gloried in doing so for the sake of the importance it gave him in the eyes of others, and all the punishments he had hitherto undergone never affected his buoyant spirits. But this act of injustice— for it was nothing else— soured his disposition, and aroused feelings in him he had never known before.

The punishments he formerly received he had to some extent merited, but this one he did not, and the manner in which it was inflicted stung him to the quick. A canvas bag was drawn over his head, as if he were about to be hung. This was done so that he &ho aid not be able to recognise the flagellator. He could endure the punishment with fortitude, although he considered ho did not deserve it, as it raised him in the estimation of his fellow prisoners ; but the indignity of the bag was the last straw that broke the camel's back. It was adding insult to injuiy.

Dick protested, and would have struggled and fought to prevent the bag being brought into requisition, but he was already bound. He was jeered at and taunted, and the flogging was administered.

Kelly and I saw him next morning as he was washing himself. We had not spoken to him for months, but we did so then. He was in a very excited state, quite different to what I hail ever before seen him. His laughing, devil-may-care air was gone, and in its place was that savage, stern look which may be observed in his portrait.

" I have incurred this," he said, " for you as well as the others, yet one of you taunted me with cowardice, and both of you have shunned me. You have been as unjust to me as the dogs who flogged me, and I feel your injustice more than Ido theirs. One of you said that I was a coward, and the other believed it ; but, by G — ! I will alter your opinion of me. I swear by Heaven ! " — and he went do\ui on his knees aud clasped his hands in a theatrical manner — " to take a human life for every lash and indignity they have laid upon me ! "'

Tie was terribly in earnest, and we tried to culm him.

From that day Burgess aud Kelly were fast friends, with a common object to cement their friendship. Tommy possessed the true spirit which I had for years been trying to instil into my class : that an injury done to the class is inflicted upon each individual, and ought to be resented as such. Dick had up to this time repudiated this doctrine, but when he endorsed it he went still further.

I have always discriminated between the guilty and the innocent, both individually and collectively. There was no discrimination in the resolution he had formed. Like a bull or a clog tortured to madness, rendy to gore or bite anyone and everyone, Dick was determined to avenge his wrongs on the human race, irrespective of persons.

I showed him a letter in a newspaper, signed by a person calling himself " Roper," approving of the flogging, aud recommending that the rogue's back should be kept sore.

" I wish I knew who Mr Roper was, and where he lives," he said savagely. " I can tell you." " If j'ou can, do so." I told him.

"Ah ! " he exclaimed, "do you think so ? " " I am sure," I replied—" as sure as we call him ' Buttons.' It was he who put tho bag over your face." There was an expression on Dick's face full of terrible meaning.

" Now," I asked, " what about your resolve ? If he continues to live I would not give a penny for it. If you allow him to livo you will never hurt anyone else, and if you spare his life it will enable him to repeat his act on yourself and on others."

• "Do you want me to throw my life awny for his?" he asked. "I shall not do it. A dozen lives will not satisfy me." " You can dispose of him without throwing away your own life — without even suspicion pointing to you."

I showed him how it could bo managed. lie was thoughtful for a moment, and then said : " No, that will not suit me. I must see my

victims die, look into their eyes, watch their tortures, and mock them as I have been mocked.'' '• Whom do you mean ? " I asked. '• jlean ! " he answered, savagely and deriMviiy. " I menu anybody— everybody."

" But why select those who have never injim v you, and spare those who have ? " •' All are alike to me. If they have not injuml me themselves they have approved of others who have done so, and are therefore equally guilty." I made no reply, for I felt the truth of his remarks.

Besides the gaol officials, a Press reporter and a few favoured individuals were present by invitation to witness and enjoy the sight of the flogging. They attended to gloat over the sufferings of those men just as they would have gone to a circus or a race meeting. It is said that they even made wagers as to whether the men would cry out or bear their punishment « ithout flinching, just as it is known that bets have beeu made on the verdict of a jury when a human life was at stake.

The inhabitants of Dunedin were not aware that such an outrage was being perpetrated in the name of justice in their city gaol — or, if thej r knew, it gave them no concern. And persons living hundreds of miles away on the West Coast little thought that the official crime committed that clay in Dunedin Gaol would result In their own deaths ; that those men were converted into human tigers, panting for blood as a parched ox thirsts for water ; that the sound of the blows falling upon naked human flesh proclaimed their doom ; that their death-warrants were being signed in human blood. Yet such was to be the outcome of that wretched day's proceedings. Coupled mysteriously together, as cause and effect, was that unjustifiable gaol flogging and those equally unjustifiable bush murders. For nothing can be more certain than that had Bur-gt-ss not been flogged, taunted, and outraged, his disposition, which was naturally a happy, buoyant one, would not have been soured, and those murders would not have been committed. In my opinion those who caused that cowardly and unjust flogging to be inflicted are as morally guilty of the West Coast murders as Burgess was.

Wrongs like those of which he was made the victim may be likened unto stones wantonly flung into tho air over a crowd ; they are sure to fall upon someone, but the villain who throws them cares not whose head is broken so long as it is not bis own. And who, I ask, is more deserving of hate and detestation at the hands of seciety — the cowardly official despots who torture men to madness and to the committal of indiscriminate murders, or the poor wretches who have been converted into murderers by the brutal treatment they received ?

" Woe be to them by whom offence coineth." If we measure their guilt by the amount of buffering they inflicted upon the prisoners, and the length of its endurance, I consider that the murders were more humane in spirit than the tortures which led up to them. If we judge thorn both by their motives — the convict being driven to commit robbery and murder from greed and revenge, and the conduct of the others being actuated by sheer injustice and vindictiveuess — there is not much to choose between them. If we weigh them by the taunts and cruelties they showered upou the prisoners, and the silent savageness displayed by Burgesp, the latter contrasts most favourably with his official torturers. We condemn as cruel the vivisection of birds and beasts, even when done in the interests of sciencn and humanity ; we have a law for'the prevention of cruelty to animals, but there is no law for the prevention of cruelty to human beings. The worst unofficial ruffian unhung would not tie up a brute with cords as men are trussed up in gaol, or from a pure love of torture, under pretence of reforming its habits, flog it as prisoners are flogged. The civilisation and religion which tolerates and approves of such practices should be swept away as being no better than the custom which exists among the Indians of torturing their captives at the stake. So long as those cruelties are indulged in society has no reason to be surprised and no light to feel injured at their leading to murders as '-avagfi.and indiscriminate as those committed by Burgess. That hi 1 ? case does not stand alone, but is only one out of many instances which are becoming more numerous every year, I have shown elsewhere; and it is not only a natural consequence, but the inevitable result of severe and long-con-tinued oppiession acting on the recipients ac« cording to their different natures.

It is an old saying that " The schoolmaster is abroad." He is nowhere more active than in our convict prisons, where the apostles of re» veuge are incessant in their teachings, and are more powerful for evil than all the prison chaplains are for good, because they are more earnest and truthful. They also follow the example of their clerical prototypes, and quote Scripture in support of their views.

Dick Burgess resisted this teaching for years, and would have continued to do so. but what missionary zeal failed to effect official tyranny accomplished. In his case as in others — and this is nothing more than true — the best natures may be turned into the worst bj r persecution, and this was exemplified in the change that took place in Burgess' disposition. Some succumb sooner than others, but all must ultimately, give in. I do not believe that Dick possessed the calm, true courage of the man whom he set up as a model — Frank Melville. Frank's courage was innate, a part of himself — a quality which I do not think is capable of being acquired. Love of applause and fear of shame may and sometimes do spur people on to acts of apparent daring, but they cannot impart that constitutional courage which is inherent in a truly brave man. '

If endurance of punishment with stoical firmness would entitle a man to be considered brave, then Dick might be looked upon in that light. But this alone does not constitute bravery. To endure pain that cannot be escaped from is quite a different thing to voluntarily, cheerfully, and fearlessly meeting danger which need not be incurred either from a sense of duty or from necessity. So long as the eyes of the public and his own class were upon him, Dick would rush into danger and defy punishment, in order to bring himself iuto notice. But of that calm, determined courage, which faces and overcomes danger when no eye sees, no applause rewards — of that natural, impulsive daring which constituted a part of Frank Melville's character— Dick was totally deficient. _ When I pointed out to him that, in accordance with his resolution, it wan his duty to dispose of the obnoxious " Buttons," ho admitted that he ought to do so ; and when I showed him how it migbt be done without any suspicion or danger attaching to him, then he objected simply because ho would not have the credit of it. He would wish it to be suspected — even known that i ie was the man, and yet he would like to come off scatheless. Here his vanity and hungering after notoriety shone out. He had

no satisfaction in doing anything unless ib was the means of bringing him iuto notice. He was like certain swipeivs whom I have on different occasions come across, who thoughG it was no use getting drunk unless they made public exhibitions of themselves.

I told him that if he wanted to make a name for himself, the best plan he could adopt was to kill his mau openly and publicly, as Casey shot the sheriff in California. He couldn't see it.

The renewed intimacy between Burgess and myself did not last. He wanted homage from me ; I had none to give him. Kelly and I had a quarrel over this aud other foolish thing?, and he threatened me with Dick's displeasure. The absurdity of the threat provoked my laughter, aud I made use of expressions in reference to Dick which neither of them ever forgave me for. We never spoke again, and parted with hate on one side and contempt on the other.

To a nature so vain as Dick's was, to be regarded with pity or contempt was lulling. He looked upon himself as a hero, exacting homage from all, aud to meet with scorn instead was gall and wormwood to him — harder to bear than any punishment.

There is no necessity for me to recount his deeds on the West Coast ; they are sufficiently well known. How far they hear out his claims to be considered a bravo mau I leave others to judge.

I am not going to condemn Dick for those actions, although I do not approve of them. I reserve my condemnation more for those whose brutal injustice made him capable of committing them. To condemn him and spare them would be unjust. It would be more than unjust — it would be almost insane to find fault with the effect; instead of the cause — like condemning au explosion or fire instead of the incendiary who applied the match.

Here I may ask a question which has been forming itself in my mind : Could I have been guilty of such acts as Burgess committed ? Judging from my present feelings I reply that I could not. I have not as yet acquired the ferocity of disposition indispensable in carrying out such murderous undertakings ; but, bearing in mind the Scriptural warning, " Boast not thyself," &c, I kuow not what 1 may become. I feel sure, however, that in the event of my giving way to feelings of revenge, I should aim at those who had injured me, though in doing co I would meet with the same fate as Burgess did — namely, death ; for provocation does not justify murder, though public execration might not be so great. But what good or harm results from posthumous fame or infamy V Burgess was as right in his reasoning as society in its censures or rewards.

Although I do not intend to detail his acts on the West Coast, I shall make a few remarks in reference to them as woll as to the autobiography in which he describes the murders with such sickening vanity and mock piety. In that pamphlet he has mirrored himself more faithfully thau any effort of mine could have done. In it vanity is seen to be the ruling passion of his life.

Evtiry known act of his Colonial life was done with the view of obtaining notoriety, and from no other motive. He reminds ono of the animalcuke contained in a drop of water, diminutive and harmless in reality, but viewed through the raaguifying medium of au oxy-hydrogen microscope they are real monsters. So Dick by the magnifying powers of his autobiography has swelled himself iuto a monster. Throughout his whole career he was greedy for notoriety, the sure sign of a little mind, and the ruling passion was strong in death. Those contemplated but frustrated robberies on the West Coast were all possible had a little tact and firmuess beeu displayed, but the lack of those qualities made them impossible of accomplishment. What but his excessive vanity and itching for a name induced him to boastfully relate what most men would have hidden. Dick's pretended penitence was but another meaus to the same end : to gain the notice and sympathy of the religious world. He thought of the penitent rascal of eighteen hundred years ago aud of many others sitice then — how their names and memories had been perpetuated, and he sought by cowardice aud fraud to have his name recorded on the roll of repentant sinners. The clergyman who administered the last Sacrament to him must or ought to have felt abhatned at doing so. The most sensational " Gospelmiller " would hardly care to point to Dick as " a brand plucked from the burning." His theatrical act of kissing the rope, and calling it his " passport to heaven," was a piece of hypocrisy more offensive to propriety than Kelly's want of nerve was pitiable. I wonder he did not kiss or rub noses with that honest, respectable fellow, the hangman. The hangman's halter a passport to heavcu ! Why, I may yet sneak iuto heaven through the same medium when ail other means of grace and entrance have failed — that is, bupposing I can screw my cowardly nature up to the commission of, similar honourable dNeds as those which ensured Dick admission.

In the mouth of one who was, about being put to death iv a good and holy cause, this saying would havo been appropriate; but coming irom Diek — a. criminal blnstud with tho infamy of murders a& unprovoked, unnecessary, and coldblooded as those of poor old Battle, Dobsou, and others — it was rank and offensive blasphemy. Thusj standing lound tho scaffold musl lt,o"<; blii-nhed with, shame for the religion which lu'l'i out hopes of 6idvatiou to such as hi». Well might mi English writer say : "If such as he went to heaven, I would rather not be there."

Dick's pretended chivalry towards women is as false as everything else counected with him. The vanity which led him to blast his mother's reputation, and the dastardly brutality he displayed towards the poor Melbourne Magdalene, whom he first robbed and theu nearly killed, do not favourably impress one as to the respect he entertained for the fair sex.

I will now ruftji 1 to Dick's monotonous appeal for praj ers to be offered up in his behalf. This portion of his autobiography reads like a lifcany. He calls upon everybody to pray for him, particularly those whom he contemplated robbing ami murdering. " Pray for me ! pray for me ! " was his unwearied song. Whether there was more cowardice than hypocrisy in this I will not venture to say.

Ifc was fortunate for Diuk that prayers are but empty wind, far any prayers concerning him would not have been for his good. And though they had been uttered in Dick's favour, a justice-dealing God would be as Oeaf to all intercessions for mercy as Burgess was to poor old Battle's entreaty that ho would spare his life. If Dick was so confident that the rope was his pa-sport to heaven, why did he whine for prayers ':' It is said that whatever a man strives most to seem, it may be taken for granted he i-; tho very reverse. If this btdteruent bo true, which Ido not doubt, what must we think of Dick's pi«ty and bravery ? Compaiing Dick with tlv; man he modelled himself after— Fi-i.uk Melville— lie wat-, in contrast with him, a 33 rummngem imitation of the basest metal, which a thick coat of lacquer could not hide. For the benefit of those who

have not seen his portrait I will describe his appearauce. .... He was about five feet seven inches in height. ; large, well-shaped head ; florid complexion and heavy features ; large, sensual mouth ; hair and whiskers dark, almost black ; well-proportioned body and limbs, with a swagger in his walk and a roll of the head that told of the estimation he had of himself. His mental qualities are more difficult to describe than his physical development. His head indicated that he had plenty of brains, and if his excessive vanity could have been repressed he might, under proper culture and training, have made a good or average man. But I question whether any schooling or training would have curbed that intense self-esteem, and if not, then the Scriptural quotation with which I commenced this notice might serve as a fitting epitaph for him, to which I will add one of my own : In lite, iv death, he hungered after reputation, And clutched instead but execration and damnation.

f To le continued.)