ffender, he might have regained liberty soon after his arrival in
Van Diemen's Land. But, as we have seen, it was the purpose of the
author to make him exhibit all the rigours of convict discipline. His
case must therefore be regarded as more exceptional than typical. As a
rule, only men inveterate in crime were detained in constant punishment.
Transportation for life meant servitude only for eight years if the
convict conducted himself well, a condition which, of course, depended
largely on the sort of master who secured his services. Major de Winton,
an officer who served for some years on Norfolk Island, has mentioned
that a prisoner by good conduct received a ticket-of-leave after he had
been twice sentenced to death, thrice to transportation for life, and to
cumulative periods of punishment amounting to over a hundred years!

An interesting view of Marcus Clarke as a literary workman is obtained
from the story of the conception and laborious writing of _For the Term
of his Natural Life_. It affords the first, and unhappily the last,
evidence of how far he recognised the claims of realism in fiction; and
from the account of his suffering under the self-imposed drudgery of
keeping to the strict line of history, we see the man as his friends
knew him contrasted with the conscientious artist known to the general
reader of his famous novel.

The best of Clarke's minor writings display the results of much general
culture, but give no proof of special preparation. They are short,
concentrated, forcible--the natural expression of a brilliant,
impetuous, and spasmodic worker. He overcame his natural repugnance to
lengthened toil and minute thoroughness when he saw them to be essential
conditions of his task. But the effort was a severe one.

In 1871, when about twenty-five years of age, he was ordered to recruit
his health by a trip to Tasmania. He had been for over three years
writing extensively for the press, and joining in the gaieties of
Melbourne life at a rate which a constitution much stronger than his
could not have withstood. The idea of writing a story of prison life had
suggested itself previously during his reading of Australian history.
Finding himself now without sufficient money for the proposed holiday,
he decided to put into active progress this literary project which had
hitherto been only vaguely outlined.

Printed records of the convict days there were in abundance at
Melbourne, and from these alone