speare, a Bible, a history of the County published by subscription, in five volumes with steel plates, Blair's Sermons, Miss Plumptre's Letters, and Holy Living and Dying, formed, with Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue and the poems of Mr. Montgomery, as complete a collection of the English classics as any country gentleman with means—even the High Sheriff himself—might desire; unless the works of Nimrod, the illustrious Colonel Hawker, and with them the Mr. Jorrock's series, are to be considered absolutely necessary in a properly appointed library. Old Colonel Ainslie, indeed, had enjoyed the reputation in the county of being a bit of a bookworm.

In the library Philip brewed himself a great tumbler of punch, which, when concocted, contained amongst other ingredients lump sugar, hot water, slices of lemon, spices, and whisky. Then he virtuously locked up the whisky in a cupboard, the key of which he hung ostentatiously on a nail, as if to communicate to all whom it might concern that it-the key -had done its day's work, and had now turned in for the night. Then he sat and smoked, slowly, and with Batavian deliberation and silence.

66

"I am sure I have done the right thing," said he, rising from his chair and shaking himself. Anyhow, I have done, and I mean to do, what I think is right, and more than that I cannot do, so here goes for Bedfordshire."

Philip's mind was now fully made up. Truth to tell, he loved his mother far better probably than most men love their wives. He understood her slightest wishes almost before she could express them herself; and he had accustomed himself to hang round about her and look after her in a rough, gruff kind of way, as an elephant in India, if put to the test, will look after a child, taking it

up when it gets too near a puddle, and solemnly depositing it in the centre of a patch of dry turf sheltered by the shadow of a tree, to which it will patiently restore its charge from time to time as it strays. The sagacity of an elephant in this respect is far superior to that of the ordinary haymaker's dog.

Philip had consequently decided with himself to remain at home until his mother might die, for however long that might be. Of course he could not tell her this in so many words; but an American, viewing the matter as did Philip, and wishing to put

it "plump and flat," would have said he was "a good son, above the average of them; that he was champing his teeth to get away, but that it was quite clear he'd hung up his prospecting boots till the time should come for the old lady to croak; and then he'd see the matter through all right and square down to the full stop on the headstone and the pensioning off of the family cat, realise the little estate in dollars, and be off on the rampage-not a spree, but a rampage-such as a gentleman might be proud of, from its beginning to its end, and write a book about it when it was over, if he chose to do so, with pictures of big game and all that kind of shop."

I do not believe Philip had an enemy, and I am sure that he had many friends. Had it been whispered-if the bucolic mouth can whisper-at the farmers' ordinary on market day, that Master Philip was going to let the house and the shooting and go abroad for a bit, the matter would have created far more commotion in the village than would in London an assurance that the young princes were going with Nares to shoot white bear and musk ox at Smith's Sound, spend a week or two in Nova Zembla, and explore the natural history of Upernavik.

“After all,” said Philip to himself, when he was undressing that evening, and leaning on the sill of his bedroom and watching the bats flit about with their sharp querulous chirrup, listening to the hoot of an owl in an old tree hard by that was said to be older than the Parish Church, and also looking out for an antiquated goat sucker that used now and then to show himself, "After all, I am very happy here with my mother; and it would be a burning shame to go away if she wishes me to stop. The shooting is good, the fishing is fair, and, if I wanted a couple of months for grouse, or red deer, or salmon, she wouldn't lift her little finger in protest. It's the idea of the distance and of my being among black men, and in a place where warming-pans and mustard poultices, and cough lozenges, and foot baths, and other such things necessary to salvation are wholly unknown, that puts her off her head. If I were to tell her now that I wanted to go to the Pyrenees for bear, or to Sicily for sword fish, or even to Disco for sealing, she wouldn't mind a bit, because they happen to be all in Europe, and yet the journey I should have liked to make is little longer, if at all, and I should have been able

to write home much more regularly. However, there is no help for it; there it is" (he knocked the ashes out of his pipe); "out you go, old briar, and in your master turns."

And he had not turned in five minutes before a measured tranquil snore announced that a healthy body, which contained a healthy mind, had gone to sleep soundly in company, and that neither of the two wished for the present to be vexed by the incidents of daily life.

F. C. PHILIPS.

WORK AND WORKERS.

XII.

THE POLICE OF LONDON.

By AN EX-POLICE OFFICIAL.

As it is now just sixty years since the Metropolitan Police Force was established, but few persons can have any personal recollections of the condition of London before the Metropolitan Police Act of 1829 was passed. Yet the value of the present police organization of the metropolis can only be duly estimated by contrasting it with the state of anarchy that existed before its establishment. Up to the commencement of the present century, no organised police force could be said to exist. Such as there was consisted of a miscellaneous collection of constables, beadles, and watchmen, who were entirely under the control of the local authorities. There was no system of patrol whatever; and, as the men were rarely paid any wages, they were compelled to depend upon fees and perquisites for their support. Indeed, in several instances, these guardians of the public were themselves found to be thieves and receivers of stolen property. To such men as these London had to trust for protection during the day-time. The men composing the night-watch were perhaps a shade less dishonest, but quite as untrustworthy. They consisted chiefly of helpless old men, who were appointed more by way of charity than for their fitness for the post.

Everywhere the criminal classes had the upper hand. By day the streets were beset by thieves and organized bands of "hustlers," and at night were disgraced by disturbances of all kinds, while the suburban roads were infested by thieves and footpads. The evidence given before the several parliamentary committees

appointed to inquire into the state of the police of the metropolis, Mr. Colquhoun's admirable works on the police, and his suggested remedies, led to attempts being made in the beginning of the present century to put an end to the disgraceful condition of things that existed. In 1805 the Government established a horse-patrol, with the view of protecting, by night, the great roads round the metropolis from highway and footpad robberies. The Bow Street patrol, consisting of a small body of men, whose duty it was to protect the principal streets of the metropolis, had been previously established in the days of Sir John Fielding. These two patrols, numbering some 260 men, acted under the order of the Chief Magistrate at Bow Street; and, although they were found serviceable enough as far as they went, the force was utterly inadequate to afford the protection required. The first attempt to organise a regular day police was made in 1822, when the Government added to the Bow Street police twenty-four men with three inspectors, to patrol the principal streets until the night-watch came on duty. The usefulness of this small body of men became at once apparent; and after a full trial had been given to the experiment, a Select Committee of the House of Commons in 1828 recommended the extension of the system to the whole metropolis.

Accordingly, in 1829 an Act was passed for the establishment of an efficient police to patrol and watch the Metropolitan Police District, which, excepting the city, was defined as extending to an average distance of seven miles round Charing Cross. The Bow Street patrol, etc., were not, however, amalgamated with the Metropolitan Police until ten years later, when a further Act was passed for consolidating all the constabulary forces of the metropolis under one authority. This Act also extended the district to all parishes any part of which was within twelve miles of Charing Cross, which had the effect of increasing the district to an average radius of fifteen miles from that centre.

The actual area of this district is over 688 square miles, and according to the latest estimate contains a population of 5,476,447. In fact, the population of the metropolis now exceeds, by over 100,000 souls, the aggregate number of inhabitants in the cities of Paris, Berlin, St. Petersburg, and Vienna.

At the present time the Metropolitan Police District is divided