have been let go, had I not made my appearance, dressed as his footboy.  The friend of the young man looked at my eye, and seized hold of my father, who made a desperate resistance, I assisting him, as in duty bound.  Being, however, overpowered by numbers, he bade me by a look, and a word or two in Latin, to make myself scarce.  Though my heart was fit to break, I obeyed my father, who was speedily committed.  I followed him to the county town in which he was lodged, where shortly after I saw him tried, convicted, and condemned.  I then, having made friends with the jailor’s wife, visited him in his cell, where I found him very much cast down.  He said, that my mother had appeared to him in a dream, and talked to him about a resurrection and Christ Jesus; there was a Bible before him, and he told me the chaplain had just been praying with him.  He reproached himself much, saying, he was afraid he had been my ruin, by teaching me bad habits.  I told him not to say any such thing, for that I had been the cause of his, owing to the misfortune of my eye.  He begged me to give over all unlawful pursuits, saying, that if persisted in, they were sure of bringing a person to destruction.  I advised him to try and make his escape, proposing, that when the turnkey came to let me out, he should knock him down, and fight his way out, offering to assist him; showing him a small saw, with which one of our companions, who was in the neighbourhood, had provided me, and with which he could have cut through his fetters in five minutes; but he told me he had no wish to escape, and was quite willing to die.  I was rather hard at that time; I am not very soft now; and I felt rather ashamed of my father’s want of what I called spirit.  He was not executed after all; for the chaplain, who was connected with a great family, stood his friend, and got his sentence commuted, as they call it, to transportation; and in order to make the matter easy, he induced my father to make some valuable disclosures with respect to the smashers’ system.  I confess that I would have been hanged before I would have done so, after having reaped the profit of it; that is, I think so now, seated comfortably in my inn, with my bottle of champagne before me.  He, however, did not show himself carrion; he would not betray his companions, who had behaved very handsomely to him, having given the son of a lord, a great barrister, not a hundred-pound forged bill, but a hundred hard guineas, to plead his cause, and another ten, to induce him, after pleading, to put his hand to his breast, and say, that, upon his honour, he believed the prisoner at the bar to be an honest and injured man.  No; I am glad to be able to say, that my father did not show himself exactly carrion, though I could almost have wished he had let himself—­ However, I am here with my bottle of champagne and the Romany Rye, and he was in his cell, with bread and water and the prison chaplain.  He took an affectionate leave of me before he was sent away, giving me three out of five guineas, all the money he had left.  He was a kind man, but not exactly fitted to fill my grandfather’s shoes.  I afterwards learned that he died of fever, as he was being carried across the sea.