On the return of Captain Cook, the accounts he brought home of New South Wales suggested to the government the idea of making it a vast prison-house for convicted felons, who had now become a sore burden, as well as a cause of grave uneasiness, to this country. Its distance and its solitude recommended it to their choice. It would effectually rid the mother country of a dangerous class--this was the argument of the selfish; and it would afford the lost the opportunity of starting afresh in life--this was the hope of the few benevolent and humane who cared for the welfare of convicted felons. No one thought of the future grandeur of Australia. None wrote or spoke at present of our duties to the aboriginal savages, or probably wasted a thought on the subject of their conversion. In 1778, Botany Bay was selected by Sir Joseph Banks, who had sailed with Captain Cook as a naturalist and scientific observer, as a most eligible site for a penal settlement. But the project was no sooner broached than it had to encounter the most determined opposition from the public, to most of whom it seemed no doubt utterly chimerical and absurd. The "Gentleman's Magazine," the great organ of literature and science at that time, led the van. At first the editors affected to treat the scheme as an extravagant hoax; afterwards they tell their readers "with what alarm they read in the public prints that so wild a project was actually to be carried into execution." However, "it could never be countenanced by any professional man after a moment's reflection. Not only the distance, but the utter impossibility of carrying a number of male and female felons across the line, without the ravages of putrid disorders sweeping them off by the score, must for ever render such a plan abortive. The rains, the heats, tempests, tornados, and mountainous seas to be encountered, were enough to deter the most reckless of human life from such a hazardous enterprise. If any such desperadoes could be found, they ventured to foretell that their fate would for ever be a warning to others not to repeat the attempt." The subject was not suffered to rest; a few months afterwards SYLVANUS URBAN--for under this name the editors of that able journal have for upwards of a century disguised themselves--returned to the charge. "The ostensible design of the projector," they say, "to prepare a settlement for the reception of felons on the most barren, least inhabited, and worst cultivated country in the southern hemisphere, was beyond belief." Moreover, "Botany Bay was beyond the reach of succour or assistance from any European settlement."