despite the unskillfulness 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 closev igilance or inquiry. 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; he needs no ceiver 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 baffie the pursuit of justice. sideration 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 learned 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 favored 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 re-water-mark, printed and negotiated several impressions. His plan was to travel and 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 that he could not tell whether the note handed him to examine was forged or not. Mathison offered to reveal his secret of forging the water-mark, if mercy were shown to him; this was refused, and he suffered the penalty of his crime. 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 con Mathison was a genius in his criminal way,, but a greater than he appeared in 1786. In that year perfection seemed to have been reached. So considerable was the circulation of spurious paper-money, that it appeared as if some unknown power had set up a bank of its own. Notes were issued from it, and readily passed current, in hundreds and thousands. They were not to be distinguished from the genuine paper of Threadneedlestreet. Indeed, when one was presented there, in due course, so complete were all its parts, so masterly the engraving, so correct the signatures, so skillful the water-mark, that it was promptly paid; and only discovered to be a forgery when it reached a particular department. From that period forged paper continued to be presented, especially at the time of lottery drawing. Consulta tions were held with the police. Plans were laid to help detection. Every effort was made to trace the forger. Clarke, the best detect ive of his day, went, like a slut-hound, on the track; for in those days the expressive word "blood-money" was known. Up to a certain point there was little difficulty; but, beyond that, consummate art defied the ingenuity of the officer. In whatever way the notes came, the train of discovery always paused at the lottery-offices. Advertisements offering large rewards were circulated; but the unknown forger baffled detection. While this base paper was in full currency, there appeared an advertisement in the Daily Advertiser for a servant. The successful applicant was a young man, in the employment of a musical-instrument maker; who, some time after, was called upon by a coachman, and informed that the advertiser was waiting in a coach to see him. The young man was desired to enter the conveyance, where he beheld a person with something of the appearance of a foreigner, sixty or seventy years old, apparently troubled with the gout. A camlet surtout was buttoned round his mouth; a large patch was placed over his left eye; and nearly every part of his face was concealed. He affected much infirmity. He had a faint hectic cough; and invariably presented the patched side to the view of the servant. After some conversation-in the course of which he represented himself as guardian to a young nobleman of great for tune-the interview concluded with the engagement of the applicant; and the new servant was directed to call on Mr. Brank, at 29 Titchfield-street, Oxford-street. this interview, Brank inveighed against his whimsical ward for his love of speculating in lottery-tickets; and told the servant that his principal duty would be purchase them. After one or two meetings, at each of which Brank kept his face muffled, he handed a At forty and twenty pound bank note; told the servant to be very careful not to lose them; and directed him to buy lottery-tickets at separate offices. The young man fulfilled his instructions, and at the moment he was returning, was suddenly called by his employer from the other side of the street, congratulated on his rapidity, and then told to go to various other offices in the neighborhood of the Royal Exchange, and to purchase more shares. Four hundred pounds in Bank of England notes were handed him, and the wishes of the mysterious Mr. Brank were satisfactorily effected. These scenes were continually enacted. Notes to a large amount were thus circulated; lottery-tickets purchased; and Mr. Brank-always in a coach, with his face studiously concealed-was ever ready on the spot to receive them. The surprise of the servant was somewhat excited; but had he known that from the period he left his master to purchase the tickets, one female figure accompanied all his movements; that when he entered the offices, it waited at the door, peered cautiously in at the window, hovered around him like a second shadow, watched him carefully, and never left him until once more he was in the company of his employer-that surprise would have been greatly increased.* Again and again were these extraordinary scenes rehearsed. last the Bank obtained a clew, and the servant was taken into custody. The directors imagined that they had secured the actor of so many parts; that the flood of forged notes which had inundated that establishment, would at length be dammed up at itssource. Their hopes proved fallacious, and it was found that "Oid Patch" (as the mysterious forger was, from the servant's description, nick-named) had been sufficiently clever to baffle the Bank directors. The house in Titchfield-street was searched; but Mr. Brank had deserted it, and not a trace of a single implement of forgery was to be seen. All that could be obtained was some little knowledge of "Old Patch's" proceedings. It appeared that he carried on his paper coining entirely by himself. His only confidant was his mistress. He was his own engraver. He even made his own ink. He manufactured his own paper. With a private press he worked his own notes; and counterfeited the signatures of the cashiers, completely. But these discoveries had no effect; for it became evident that Mr. Patch had set up a press elsewhere. Although his * Francis's History of the Bank of England. At secret continued as impenetrable, his notes became as plentiful as ever. Five years of unbounded prosperity ought to have satisfied him; but it did not. Success seemed to pall him. His genius was of that insatiable order which demands new excitements, and a constant succession of new flights. The following paragraph from a newspaper of 1786 relates to the same individual: "On the 17th of December, ten pounds were paid into the Bank, for which the clerk, as usual, gave a ticket to receive a Bank note of equal value. This ticket ought to have been carried immediately to the cashier, instead of which the bearer took it home, and curiously added an 0 to the original sum, and returning, presented it so altered to the cashier, for which he received a note of one hundred pounds. In the evening, the clerks found a deficiency in the accounts; and on examining the tickets of the day, not only that but two others were discovered to have been obtained in the same manner. In the one, the figure 1 was altered to 4, and in another to 5, by which the artist received, upon the whole, nearly one thousand pounds." To that princely felony, Old Patch, as will be seen in the sequel, added smaller misdemeanors which one would think were far beneath his notice; except to convince himself and his mistress of the unbounded facility of his genius for fraud. At that period the affluent public were saddled with a tax on plate; and many experiments were made to evade it. Among others, one was invented by a Mr. Charles Price, a stock-jobber and lottery-office keeper, which, for a time, puzzled the tax-gatherer. Mr. Charles Price lived in great style, gave splendid dinners, and did every thing on the grandest scale. Yet Mr. Charles Price had no plate! The authorities could not find so much as a silver tooth-pick on his magnificent premises. In truth, what he was too cunning to possess, he borrowed. For one of his sumptuous entertainments, he hired the plate of a silversmith in Cornhill, and left the value in bank notes as security for its safe return. One of these notes having proved a forgery, was traced to Mr. Charles Price; and Mr. Charles Price was not to be found at that particular juncture. Although this excited no surprise-for he was often an absentee from his office for short periods-yet in due course, and as a formal matter of buisness, an officer was set to find him, and to ask his explanation regarding the false note. After tracing a man, who he had a strong notion was Mr. Charles Price, through countless lodgings and innumerable disguises, the officer (to use his own expression) "nabbed" Mr. Charles Price. But, as Mr. Clarke observed, his prisoner and his prisoner's lady were even then "too many" for him; for, although he lost not a moment in trying to secure the forging implements, after he had discovered that Mr. Charles Price, and Mr. Brank, and Old Patch, were all concentrated in the person of his prisoner, he found the lady had destroyed every trace of evidence. Not a vestige of the forging factory was left. Not the point of a graver, nor a single spot of ink, nor a shred of silver paper, nor a scrap of any body's handwriting was to be met with. Despite, however, this paucity of evidence to convict him, Mr. Charles Price had not the courage to face a jury, and eventually he saved the judicature and the Tyburn executive much trouble and expense, by hanging himself in Bridewell. The success of Mr. Charles Price has never been surpassed; and even after the darkest era in the history of Bank forgeries--which dates from the suspension of cash payments, in February, 1797-" Old Patch" was still remembered as the Cæsar of Forgers. ITALICS-Manutius Aldus was the first who invented, or, at all events, the first who made a general use of the italic type, in contradistinction to that which we call Roman. The reader unaccustomed to this form is, in the first instance, so greatly surprised by the extraordinary amount of emphasis which he feels called upon to apply to every word, that he generally loses his voice before he has got through half a page. The employment of italics is sometimes dangerous; and a notable example of this is given in the case of the Irish member of parliament, who was seen in a rabid state one morning, with a horsewhip in his hand, in the vicinity of Printing-house-square. Being asked by a friend, who accidentally met him, what he was going to o, he answered, "To horsewhip the editor of the Times." "For what reason?" was the inquiry. "What reason, sir! Why, look here, sir; he has printed every word I said in italics, and I never uttered one of 'em!"-New Monthly Magazine. From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal. THOMAS MOORE. "I CANNOT help thinking that it is possible | in Dublin, which was shared by many perto love one's country very zealously, and to sons of talent. In their amusements they feel deeply interested in her honor and hap-exhibited no small fertility of invention, if all piness, without believing that the Irish was the their countrymen, Sir Jonah Barrington, has language spoken in Paradise-that our an- written about them is to be credited. There cestors were kind enough to polish the is a small island, or rather rock, on the south Greek or that Avaris, the hyperborean, side of the bay of Dublin, called Dalkey Iswas a native of Ireland." It is to Thomas land, lying off a town of the same name on Moore, who thus frankly and truly speaks, the main. A number of frolicsome spirits, that Ireland is indebted for at least the be- and among them Curran the Irish master of ginning of the association of her name with the rolls, suggested an annual visit to this elegant literature. He has been the defender island, and the coronation of a monarch of of her political and religious liberties; he has the fete, to be called the King of Dalkey, tosympathized with her wrongs, and pleaded gether with the attendant officers of a mock indignantly against her oppression; he has court. The day was always humorously anheld up her claims to equitable treatment, nounced in the "Dublin Morning Post." Variveiled her foibles and vices, and inseparably ous regal ceremonies were performed, guns connected her in the imagination with all that were fired, a mock-heroic speech delivered is graceful in music and song. from the throne, and the new monarch anointed by pouring a beaker of whiskey upon his head. Petitions and complaints accumulated during the preceding year were heard and answered, an archbishop preached a courtly sermon, a laureate ode was recited, and a dinner on the rocks concluded the business of the day. Some of the proceedings were very humorous. There was a Lord Minikin, dignified as lieutenant of the town; and a periwinkle order of knighthood. The last coronation took place in 1797, just before the rebellion broke out, when such proceedings might have been punished as treasonable. Moore was then in his 17th year, and contributed the last laureate ode. The lines not being in his works, may be worthy of record here: Thomas Moore was born on the 28th of May, 1780. Genius, the French say, is especially plebeian, and the poet was no exception to the rule. His father was Garret Moore, a respectable tradesman in Dublin, gifted with plain good sense, and possessing some acquirements. Nothing is recorded worthy of notice in regard to Moore's childhood; none of those precocious evidences of talent that have so frequently disappointed expectation. He was placed at school with a Mr. Whyte, in Grafton street, Dublin, where he made such satisfactory progress, that his father thought he was justified in transplantiug him at fourteen to Trinity College. There, although in the midst of much unblushing obsequiousness to authority of any and every kind, young Moore acquired and cherished that independence of feeling which ever afterwards distinguished him. He was remarkable, likewise, from his earlier years for his social temper, and distinguished for his conversational talents and ready wit, at a time when the principles he professed were regarded with an evil eye by the political party that ruled Ireland under a system destitute of all principle. At that time, about the close of the century, there was a spirit of conviviality abroad "Hail, happy Dalkey! Queen of isles, Where justice reigns and freedom smiles! No subjects of King Stephen lie Invite and unite us on Dalkey's wide plains. No flimsy bailiffs enters here-- Our soldiers here deserve the name, Nor wear a feather they don't pluck from fame! Here informers get no pensions No placemen nor pensioners here are haranguing, No soldiers are shooting, no seamen are hanging; No mutiny reins in the army or fleet, For our orders are just, our commanders discreet !" Thus young did the poet exhibit that spirit of political satire for which during his subsequent career he has been distinguished. Lord Clare, the zealous supporter of constructive sedition in the sister island, could not pass unnoticed the presumption of any one calling himself" king," even of a rock. He kept the eyes of a true minister of police upon Dalkey, and at last, full of official dread of something like treason, he sent for one of the mock court. The dialogue was excel lent : Pray, may I ask how are you recognized ?" "I am Duke of Muglins." And what post may you hold ?" "Chief commissioner of revenue." "I am allowed to import ten thousand hogsheads duty free." "How ?-hogsheads of what?" "Of salt-water, my lord!" The lord chancellor made no further inquiry about Dalkey. There is another anecdote of Lord Clare with which Thomas Moore was connected. Moore was then at Trinity College. The lord chancellor, hearing that an offensive paper had been circulated among the collegians, insisted that they and their officers should take an inquisitorial oath, called "an oath of discovery;" or, in other words, should swear before him, each and all of them, that they did not know who had written the document, and that they had not written the seditious paper themselves; and further, that they did not know of any disaffected persons or treason able societies in the university. Such an oath equally against law and reason, was a mild proceeding to someothers taken about that time. Many of the collegians were ready to swear that they were not themselves disaffected persons; others would not swear one way or the other, insisting upon the unconstitutional nature of such a requirement. On thus objecting, fifty were marked out for expulsion. Thomas Moore was one of the first who refused to be sworn. He objected until the scene became ludicrous. He shook his head at the book which they wanted to thrust upon him, and put his hand behind his back; they then tried to put it into his left hand, and he placed that where his right was. They still pressed the book upon him, and he retreated backward until the wall of the room forbade his retreating further. On the following day the chancellor, probably feeling he had presumed too far, modified the oath, and Moore consented to swear that he knew of no treasonable practices or societies within the walls of the university. This conduct exhibited remarkable firmness in a lad of sixteen. His acuteness, and his progress in classical acquirements at the college, are yet remembered by some of his contemporaries. In 1799 Moore quitted Ireland for London, and entered himself of the Middle Temple, being in his nineteenth year. In place of studying the law, however, he employed himself in translating the Odes of Anacreon. He was at this time a mere boy in appearance, and his translation obtained for him the name of "Anacreon Moore." The "Anacreon" is a fluent and pleasing, rather than a close translation. The Greek of "Anacreon," at all times too condensed for a modern tongue, has always been paraphrased rather than translated-by Cowley and Hawkes, for example-in English, none approaching the brevity of the original. Not only did Moore shine as a translator at this time, but also as a wit, a "failing" fatal to the due consideration demanded by Coke and Littleton. His powers in this respect are on record by one who was both himself a wit, and the cause of wit in others. Sheridan highly praised his brilliant conversational powers, and declared there was "no man who put so much of his heart into his fancy as Thomas Moore." Soon after this period Moore was destined to exchange the gay life of London for a very different scene; the congenial circle composed of the gay, and thoughtless, and frivolous, as well as of the learned and wise, for the contemplation of nature in her grandeur, and society of a very mediocre de |