blishing the Protestant liberties of England. If Parliament should prefer a Protestant King James to the present popish usurper of the same name, all good Protestants, he presumed, would acquiesce; and the most eager of his champions would be the Nonconformists.
The Squire promised allegiance to the decision of a free Parliament; but there was a coldness in his tone which struck upon Monmouth’s heart. Lord Grey abused the Roundhead as a canting, self-seeking, half-hearted fellow, but was told that he mistook the man. Such a man as this was a great loss to the cause. No, there could not be hundreds of better men pouring into the town every hour. The more the better, such as they were: but men like this Battiscombe were not common: and their adhesion, once obtained, might be relied on. There was a hesitation in his manner at the last, however—
Lord Grey dared not utter further scorn; but he laughed.
“It was not from policy that he kept aloof from me,” said Monmouth, speaking to himself, while answering his attendant’s thought. The next suggestion remained unspoken.
“Perhaps it was from scruple about Henrietta: I suspect that was it. When I have made her my Queen there will be no more such coldness.”
“Please your Majesty—” said a voice from the doorway.
“I could wish that my injunctions were better attended to,” said Monmouth, with some irritation. “It is injurious to my interests to address me otherwise than as the Duke of Monmouth; and how often must I say so in vain?”
“Your Grace must excuse your faithful servants,” Lord Grey answered. “In the market-place, in the streets, and far into two counties the people are shouting ‘King Monmouth.’ If your Grace would but see it, this is your proclamation as sovereign of these realms.”
Monmouth made no reply. But it was remarked that, after a little time had been allowed him, no more chiding was heard when he was spoken of as “His Majesty.”
THE ART OF THIEVING.
PART II.
That so many people can earn their living by thieving proves, at least, that there must be method in their crime, and a considerable amount of ingenuity in carrying out their fraudulent plans. Were thieves to go about their work at haphazard they would soon be driven out of the field: they would neither be able to outwit their victims nor elude the police. Thieves contending with the public have greatly the advantage in some respects. Long practice makes the thief perfect in arts of which the public know comparatively nothing. The honest tradesman and the peaceful and virtuous citizen passing through the streets bear the same relation to the professional thief as the generality of men bear to a well-trained prize-fighter. A man untrained in the art of self-defence can have no chance of success in a contention with a professional bruiser. He knows a thousand tricks to which the uninitiated are perfect strangers. But, whilst we are none of us required to enter the ring and guard ourselves against the skilful assaults of the prize-fighter, we are all obliged to be upon our guard against the depredations of thieves. We know not when or where they may assail us, nor how severe the loss we may sustain by these villains of the criminal arts. It becomes every citizen to know something of the tricks of thieves, in order that he may know his danger and secure his own safety. Whatever objections may be urged against such knowledge, the fact is certain that thieves mainly live upon the ignorance and carelessness of the public. A danger cannot be guarded against until it is known; and before the public can provide for their own protection against thieves, they must acquaint themselves with the snares which are spread for them. It may be objected that in revealing the secrets of the criminal fraternity we only spread the evil. “Thieves,” it may be said, “will read your book and take lessons from it.” This objection can only be urged by those who do not understand the furtive brotherhood. The thieves know already what will be here revealed, and far more. All who are inclined to enlist in the ranks of professional thieves can readily do so, and by such association and a few years’ imprisonment they will soon graduate in the whole art of stealing. We can teach the habitual thief nothing on this subject. Here and there one naturally inclined to evil may take a hint from what is written; but we cannot refrain from informing the public because one or two may make an improper use of the information.
In gathering information on the criminal question, I have been astonished at the gross ignorance displayed by shopkeepers and others. The merest prig could cheat many of them without the least difficulty. While this ignorance lasts the thieves will continue to reap their unhallowed harvests, and shopkeepers will continue to say, “We are constantly being robbed, but we cannot find out how they do it, and therefore we are unable to prevent them.” Until the multitude will do something to dispel this ignorance, they will continue to be the easy prey of the trained marauder, and perfectly helpless whenever the trammels of thieving are thrown about them.
The information which is needed by the multitude to save them, as far as may be, from being robbed and plundered is very difficult to obtain. It cannot be had by merely reading police reports. Only fragments of the art come out there—now and then a burglar’s ingenious instrument, now and then a flash-letter, and now and then a note on the Bank of Elegance. Thieves in general cling to their secrets with the most desperate tenacity. They are unwilling to endanger their craft by too much publicity. A few of them, however, are very communicative when they meet with persons whom they can trust. Under the influence of remorse, aggravated by the treachery of their companions,—proud and vain of an opportunity of showing the amount of their criminal knowledge and dishonest skill, or sincerely and even affectionately grateful for some signal act of unmerited kindness,—they will freely disclose the