improved system of police has brought about, that the most perfect system of worldly order will not convert one soul. The law may become increasingly "a terror to evil doers" under wise government, but it is only by the terrors of the Lord that men can be brought to "repent and become converted." Formerly a large portion of this district was called "Jack Ketch's Warren," from the fact of the number of persons who were hung at Newgate from these courts and alleys, especially at the period when £1 notes were in circulation, and forgeries of them were so common. Old men, who were formerly watchmen in this locality, have described to me the desperate scenes which were formerly enacted. The disturbances that took place were of so desperate a character, that from thirty to forty constables would be marched down with cutlasses, it being frequently impossible for officers to act in less numbers, or unarmed. The most extraordinary characters lived here. Those who have read the Newgate Calendar, may remember a notorious female foot-pad who is described as living in Sharp's Alley. A woman also lived close by who was hung at Newgate, but lived for many years afterwards. She kept harbours for thieves and

other bad characters for nearly twenty years subsequently. This person was condemned to death for passing forged £1 notes, and by some means managed to introduce a silver tube into the gullet. Prison regulations were at that period very lax. As many as ten and even more persons would be executed at Newgate at once, and the care which is now exercised was not taken then. She was delivered to her friends for burial immediately after the execution, and hurried home, where, after considerable difficulty, she was restored to life. But as many thieves and old officers have informed me, most of the old gangs are broken up. The White Hart, in Turnmill Street, opposite Cock Court, formerly a noted house of call for foot-pads and highwaymen, has long ceased to be a public-house at all. Twenty and thirty years ago, a systematic confederation of all kinds of desperate persons existed in this neighbourhood, of which the present condition is a mere relic. The old system of parochial boards of watch was a mere farce. "You see, sir," said an old watchman to me, "there ain't no comparison between the old charleys and these new police. If a watchman brought many people to the watch-house he'd get a hint, (you

understand me,) not to make himself quite so busy." The cost of prosecutions to the county was considered, and unless it was some very daring offence that had been committed, little effort appears to have been made to apprehend offenders. We used to read of some inebriated ruffian knocking down twenty or thirty watchmen as fast as they came up. It is quite true that many men employed were old, or feeble, or deficient in stature and physique, and easily knocked down, but there can be no doubt also, but that watchmen who were said to be knocked down, frequently tumbled down. They had their orders not to put the county to needless expenses for prosecutions. Under the present improved system, the very reverse is the fact, and no pains are spared to detect and bring thieves to justice. "It ain't no go, as it used to be," said a housebreaker to me. "How is that?" said I. He replied, (I omit some vulgarities,) "Why, if you get inside a house quietly, don't you see, jist as yer a coming out, there's some policeman a waitin' to ketch you in his arms, and they puts such lots on at nights so thick, it ain't no use a trying." This young man attended my meetings, and appeared to have given up his habits of depreda

tion. He told me lately: "Mr. Wandecum," said he, (few pronounce my name correctly,)

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you may believe me or believe me not, but I sees things werry differently to what I used to do. I'd rather live upon a penn'orth of bread a day got honestly, than have lots of grub the other way that I would; not but what there's a deal to be made, perticularly by handkerchiefs,* but you're always in fear, yer conscience wont let yer rest, every sound you hears, may be on the passage or on the stairs, when you're a-bed, any how, you starts up and thinks it's some peeler (i.e., policeman) come to take yer! It's a miserable life, that it is; there ain't no luck in it. Please the Almighty, I've done with sich ways altogether, and means to get my bread honestly." This man further remarked in illustration of his truthful sentiment respecting dishonesty, that there was "no luck in it," that he had had lots of money, but it all went, to use his own expression, "nobody hardly knows how;" and he added, "he knew two housebreakers who would think it

* A thief once observed to me, gentlemen might do away with pick-pocketing - "Let them use cotton. handkerchiefs, and it would not answer for us, they fetches a mere nothing."

bad night's work when they went out, if their share was not a hundred pounds, but they was always poor, as poor as he was, and hadn't a sixpence to bless themselves with."*

Sometimes the accounts I have received respecting the formidable disturbances which once took place on my district and in the neighbourhood have been of a very strange character. An old Bow Street officer, who yet lives in the neighbourhood, has detailed strange and terrible scenes to me. One I will give as nearly as possible in his own words, omitting some unpleasant vulgarities : "One of my mates come to me, as near as I can guess it might be two o'clock in the afternoon. Says he, ‘P———————, you must come up to the office directly.' It was in Hatton Garden then, sir, close by. What for?' says I. 'Oh!' says he, 'there's the Irish murdering one another on Saffron Hill, and the place is blocked up with the mobs.' So I takes my staff, and my cutlash, and my pistols, and away I went up to the office.

*These appear to have been very adept cracksmen or house-breakers. Such men are sent for from very long distances, to effect burglaries on premises containing a large amount of property. Such robberies are called plants.