"At that moment, one of the constables shouted `a rescue;' and the three, without further provocation, commenced an assault upon my brother and myself. "One of them seized me by the throat; and struck me several times on the head with his baton. We struggled awhile, and then both fell to the ground. I turned my head, while trying to get up again, and saw my brother lying on the pavement, with his face covered all over with blood. The policeman, who had fallen with me, still retained his clutch upon my throat; and again commenced beating me as soon as we had both recovered our feet. A loose stone, weighing about ten pounds, was lying upon the pavement. I seized hold of it, and struck my antagonist on the forehead. He fell like a bullock. When I looked around, I saw that my father--who was a very powerful man--had conquered the other two policemen. He seemed suddenly to have recovered from his intoxication; and now helped me to carry the constable I had felled, to the nearest public-house--where the man died a few hours after the affray. "I was tried for manslaughter; and sentenced to ten years transportation. "Not until then, did evil thoughts ever make their home in my mind. "Up till the time I was torn from my relatives--for whom I had a great affection--and from the girl whom I fondly loved, I am willing to be responsible to God and man, for every thought I had, or every act I did. Ever since, having been deprived of liberty--dragged from all near and dear--with every social tie broken--and robbed of everything for which I cared to live--I do not think myself to blame for anything I may have done. I have been only a link in a chain of circumstances--a victim of the transportation system of England, that transforms incipient crime into hardened villainy. "On arriving in New South Wales, I was placed in a gang with other convicts; and put to the business of pushing a wheel-barrow. We were employed in removing a hill, from the place where nature had set it: for no other reason, I believe, than for the purpose of keeping us from being idle! The labour was not severe; but the life was a very weary one. It was not the work that made it so to me. I was used to work, and did not dislike it, if there had been any sense in the task we had to perform. But I had no more idea of what my labour was for, than the wheel-barrow with which I performed it; and therefore I could feel no more interest in the work, than did the barrow itself. "My toil was not sweetened with the reflection that it was in behalf of those I loved. On the contrary, I knew that the best years of my life were being uselessly squandered, while my mother and her children were perhaps suffering for food!