young Ruffian, who, in full daylight early on
a summer evening, had nearly thrown a modest
young woman into a swoon of indignation and
confusion, by his shameful manner of attacking
her with this cry as she harmlessly passed
along before me. MR. CARLYLE, some time
since, awakened a little pleasantry by writing
of his own experience of the Ruffian of the
streets. I have seen the Ruffian act, in exact
accordance with Mr. Carlyle's description,
innumerable times, and I never saw him checked.

The blaring use of the very worst language
possible, in our public thoroughfares—especially
in those set apart for recreation—is another
disgrace to us, and another result of constabular
contemplation, the like of which I have never
heard in any other country to which my
uncommercial travels have extended. Years ago,
when I had a near interest in certain children
who were sent with their nurses, for air and
exercise, into the Regent's Park, I found this
evil to be so abhorrent and horrible there, that
I called public attention to it, and also to its
contemplative reception by the Police. Looking
afterwards into the newest Police Act, and
finding that the offence was punishable under
it, I resolved, when striking occasion should
arise, to try my hand as prosecutor. The occasion
arose soon enough, and I ran the following
gauntlet.

The utterer of the base coin in question, was
a girl of seventeen or eighteen, who, with a
suitable attendance of blackguards, youths and
boys, was flaunting along the streets, returning
from an Irish funeral, in a Progress interspersed
with singing and dancing. She had turned
round to me and expressed herself in the most
audible manner, to the great delight of that
select circle. I attended the party, on the
opposite side of the way, for a mile further, and
then encountered a Police constable. The party
had made themselves merry at my expense
until now, but seeing me speak to the constable,
its male members instantly took to their heels,
leaving the girl alone. I asked the constable
did he know my name? Yes, he did. " Take
that girl into custody, on my charge, for using
bad language in the streets." He had never
heard of such a charge. I had. Would he take
my word that he should get into no trouble?
Yes, sir, he would do that. So he took the girl,
and I went home for my Police Act.

With this potent instrument in my pocket, I
literally as well as figuratively, " returned to
the charge," and presented myself at the Police
Station of the district. There, I found on duty
a very intelligent Inspector (they are all intelligent
men), who, likewise, had never heard of
such a charge. I showed him my clause, and
we went over it together twice or thrice. It
was plain, and I engaged to wait upon the
suburban Magistrate to-morrow morning at ten
o'clock.

In the morning, I put my Police Act in
my pocket again, and waited on the suburban
Magistrate. I was not quite so courteously
received by him as I should have been by The
Lord Chancellor or The Lord Chief Justice,
but that was a question of good breeding on
the suburban Magistrate's part, and I had my
clause ready with its leaf turned down. Which
was enough for me.

Conference took place between the Magistrate
and clerk, respecting the charge. During
conference I was evidently regarded as a much
more objectionable person than the prisoner;—
one giving trouble by coming there voluntarily,
which the prisoner could not be accused of
doing. The prisoner had been got up, since I
last had the pleasure of seeing her, with a great
effect of white apron and straw bonnet. She
reminded me of an elder sister of Red Riding
Hood, and I seemed to remind the sympathising
Chimney Sweep by whom she was attended, of
the Wolf.

The Magistrate was doubtful, Mr.
Uncommercial Traveller, whether this charge could be
entertained. It was not known. Mr.
Uncommercial Traveller replied that he wished it were
better known, and that, if he could afford the
leisure, he would use his endeavours to make
it so. There was no question about it,
however, he contended. Here was the clause.

The clause was handed in, and more
conference resulted. After which I was asked the
extraordinary question: " Mr. Uncommercial,
do you really wish this girl to be sent to
prison?" To which I grimly answered, staring:
"If I didn't, why should I take the trouble to
come here?" finally, I was sworn, and gave
my agreeable evidence in detail, and White
Riding Hood was fined ten shillings, under the
clause, or sent to prison for so many days.
"Why, Lord bless you, Sir," said the Police-
officer, who showed me out, with a great enjoyment
of the jest of her having been got up so
effectively, and caused so much hesitation: "If
she goes to prison, that will be nothing new to
her. She comes from Charles-street, Drury-
lane!"

The Police, all things considered, are an
excellent force, and I have borne my small testimony
to their merits. Constabular contemplation
is the result of a bad system; a system
which is administered, not invented, by the man
in constable's uniform, employed at twenty
shillings a week. He has his orders, and would be
marked for discouragement if he over-stepped
them. That the system is bad, there needs no
lengthened argument to prove, because the fact
is self-evident. If it were anything else, the
results that have attended it, could not possibly
have come to pass. Who will say that under
a good system, our streets could have got into
their present state?

The objection to the whole Police system,
as concerning the Ruffian, may be stated, and
its failure exemplified, as follows. It is well
known that on all great occasions, when they
come together in numbers, the mass of the
English people are their own trustworthy
Police. It is well known that wheresoever
there is collected together any fair general
representation of the people, a respect for law