and nodded in various directions, as if in recognition of acquaintances. They were defended by counsel; and an attempt was made to take the offence out of the category of burglary, first by the plea that it was not committed by night (the hour being no later than nine on a summer’s evening), and, secondly, by the allegation that as the door was on the latch, the house could not be said to have been broken open—points made, of course, in desperation, and very summarily dealt with by the judge. The only further attempt was to discredit the evidence of the approver, who was severely cross-examined, though the following short passage is all that I now remember of the process: ‘How came you to think of informing?’ ‘Because my conscience told me I had done _wrang_.’ ‘And why didn’t your conscience tell you you had done _wrang_ before you got into prison for stealing the pig?’ The evidence was too strong to be shaken, and both prisoners were convicted. Of course when such a host of minor offences were capital, so grave a crime as this was on the fatal list; and we heard the judge, after putting on the black cap, pronounce the terrible sentence of death. The defiant look put on at first was still maintained by both prisoners; but when the judge, after warning the more ruffianly of the two that he could not hold out to him any hope of mercy, addressed his companion, telling him that, as he had abstained from violence, his life would be spared, this latter at once broke down, falling upon his knees, while he poured out his thanks and promises of amendment. Shortly afterwards the sentence passed on the other was executed; and somewhat beyond the fatal hour, while going on an errand, I unfortunately and most unintentionally caught a distant sight of the hanging body.” For many years his excursions were chiefly made on foot. Though his health was at all times of his life delicate, yet his frame was active, and capable of great endurance. He was, when a boy, one of the quickest runners and best leapers in the school, and he became a strong swimmer. “I walked to Stourbridge once a week, to give a lesson,” he records in his Journal. “This I could do without the least fatigue, as it is only twelve miles from hence, and I have often walked upwards of thirty miles in one day.” His fondness for feats led him, he said, to hazard his health. Thus, once in a walk of five-and-twenty miles in a hilly country, he went the last mile on the run. In his Journal he recorded many of his trips. In the year 1813 he was taken, for the benefit of his health, to Margate. “We could see,” he wrote, “the coast of France. My mother was rather uneasy at being so near to the French.” He walked over to Dover, and began to sketch the castle and town from the Castle Hill. Some soldiers told him that a day or two before a man had been put into prison for drawing there:—