vulgar　audacity　of　a　bullying　thief　was　suitably　answered　by　the
  ungracious；　involuntary　submission　of　the　terrified　traveller。　　From　end　to
  end　of　England　you　might　hear　the　cry　of　‘Stand　and　deliver。'　　Yet　how
  changed　the　accent！　　The　beauty　of　gesture；　the　deference　of　carriage；　the
  ready　response　to　a　legitimate　demandall　the　qualities　of　a　dignified　art
  were　lost　for　ever。　　As　its　professors　increased　in　number；　the　note　of
  aristocracy；　once　dominant；　was　silenced。　　The　meanest　rogue；　who　could
  hire　a　horse；　might　cut　a　contemptible　figure　on　Bagshot　Heath；　and　feel
  no　shame　at　robbing　a　poor　man。　　Oncein　that　Augustan　age；　whose
  brightest　ornament　was　Captain　Hindit　was　something　of　a　distinction　to
  be　decently　plundered。　　A　century　later　there　was　none　so　humble　but　he
  might　be　asked　to　empty　his　pocket。　　In　brief；　the　blight　of　democracy
  was　upon　what　should　have　remained　a　refined；　secluded　art；　and　nowise
  is　the　decay　better　illustrated　than　in　the　appreciation　of　bunglers；　whose
  exploits　were　scarce　worth　a　record。
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  A　BOOK　OF　SCOUNDRELS
  James　Maclaine；　for　instance；　was　the　hero　of　his　age。　　In　a　history　of
  cowards　he　would　deserve　the　first　place；　and　the　‘Gentleman
  Highwayman；'　as　he　was　pompously　styled；　enjoyed　a　triumph　denied　to
  many　a　victorious　general。　　Lord　Mountford　led　half　White's　to　do　him
  honour　on　the　day　of　his　arrest。　　On　the　first　Sunday；　which　he　spent　in
  Newgate；　three　thousand　jostled　for　entrance　to　his　cell；　and　the　poor　devil
  fainted　three　times　at　the　heat　caused　by　the　throng　of　his　admirers。　　So
  long　as　his　fate　hung　in　the　balance；　Walpole　could　not　take　up　his　pen
  without　a　compliment　to　the　man；　who　claimed　to　have　robbed　him　near
  Hyde　Park。　　Yet　a　more　pitiful　rascal　never　showed　the　white　feather。
  Not　once　was　he　known　to　take　a　purse　with　his　own　hand；　the　summit　of
  his　achievement　being　to　hold　the　horses'　heads　while　his　accomplice
  spoke　with　the　passengers。　　A　poltroon　before　his　arrest；　in　Court　he
  whimpered　and　whinnied　for　mercy；　he　was　carried　to　the　cart　pallid　and
  trembling；　and　not　even　his　preposterous　finery　availed　to　hearten　him　at
  the　gallows。　　Taxed　with　his　timidity；　he　attempted　to　excuse　himself　on
  the　inadmissible　plea　of　moral　rectitude。　　‘I　have　as　much　personal
  courage　in　an　honourable　cause；'　he　exclaimed　in　a　passage　of　false　dignity；
  ‘as　any　man　in　Britain；　but　as　I　knew　I　was　committing　acts　of　injustice；　so
  I　went　to　them　half　loth　and　half　consenting；　and　in　that　sense　I　own　I　am　a
  coward　indeed。'
  The　disingenuousness　of　this　proclamation　is　as　remarkable　as　its
  hypocrisy。　　Well　might　he　brag　of　his　courage　in　an　honourable　cause；
  when　he　knew　that　he　could　never　be　put　to　the　test。　　But　what　palliation
  shall　you　find　for　a　rogue　with　so　little　pride　in　his　art；　that　he　exercised　it
  ‘half　loth；　half　consenting'？　　It　is　not　in　this　recreant　spirit　that
  masterpieces　are　achieved；　and　Maclaine　had　better　have　stayed　in　the　far
  Highland　parish；　which　bred　him；　than　have　attempted　to　cut　a　figure　in
  the　larger　world　of　London。　　His　famous　encounter　with　Walpole　should
  have　covered　him　with　disgrace；　for　it　was　ignoble　at　every　point；　and　the
  art　was　so　little　understood；　that　it　merely　added　a　leaf　to　his　crown　of
  glory。　　Now；　though　Walpole　was　far　too　well…bred　to　oppose　the　demand
  of　an　armed　stranger；　Maclaine；　in　defiance　of　his　craft；　discharged　his
  pistol　at　an　innocent　head。　　True；　he　wrote　a　letter　of　apology；　and
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  insisted　that；　had　the　one　pistol…　shot　proved　fatal；　he　had　another　in
  reserve　for　himself。　　But　not　even　Walpole　would　have　believed　him；　had
  not　an　amiable　faith　given　him　an　opportunity　for　the　answering　quip：
  ‘Can　I　do　less　than　say　I　will　be　hanged　if　he　is？'
  As　Maclaine　was　a　coward　and　no　thief；　so　also　he　was　a　snob　and　no
  gentleman。　　His　boasted　elegance　was　not　more　respectable　than　his　art。
  Fine　clothes　are　the　embellishment　of　a　true　adventurer；　they　hang　ill　on
  the　sloping　shoulders　of　a　poltroon。
  And　Maclaine；　with　all　the　ostensible　weaknesses　of　his　kind；　would
  claim　regard　for　the　strength　that　he　knew　not。　　He　occupied　a　costly
  apartment　in　St。　James's　Street；　his　morning　dress　was　a　crimson　damask
  banjam；　a　silk　shag　waistcoat；　trimmed　with　lace；　black　velvet　breeches；
  white　silk　stockings；　and　yellow　morocco　slippers；　but　since　his
  magnificence　added　no　jot　to　his　courage；　it　was　rather　mean　than
  admirable。　　Indeed；　his　whole　career　was　marred　by　the　provincialism　of
  his　native　manse。
  And　he　was　the　adored　of　an　intelligent　age；　he　basked　a　few　brief
  weeks　in　the　noonday　sun　of　fashion。
  If　distinction　was　not　the　heritage　of　the　Eighteenth　Century；　its　glory
  is　that　now　and　again　a　giant　raised　his　head　above　the　stature　of　a
  prevailing　rectitude。　　The　art　of　verse　was　lost　in　rhetoric；　the　noble　prose；
  invented　by　the　Elizabethans；　and　refined　under　the　Stuarts；　was　whittled
  away　to　common　sense　by　the　admirers　of　Addison　and　Steele。　　Swift　and
  Johnson；　Gibbon　and　Fielding；　were　apparitions　of　strength　in　an　amiable；
  ineffective　age。　　They　emerged　sudden　from　the　impeccable　greyness；　to
  which　they　afforded　an　heroic　contrast。　　So；　while　the　highway　drifted
  drifted　to　a　vulgar　incompetence；　the　craft　was　illumined　by　many　a　flash
  of　unexpected　genius。　　The　brilliant　achievements　of　Jonathan　Wild　and
  of　Jack　Sheppard　might　have　relieved　the　gloom　of　the　darkest　era；　and
  their　separate　masterpieces　make　some　atonement　for　the　environing
  cowardice　and　stupidity。　　Above　all；　the　Eighteenth　Century　was
  Newgate's　golden　age；　now　for　the　first　time　and　the　last　were　the　rules
  and　customs　of　the　Jug　perfectly　understood。　　If　Jonathan　the　Great　was
  unrivalled　in　the　art　of　clapping　his　enemies　into　prison；　if　Jack　the　Slip…
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  A　BOOK　OF　SCOUNDRELS
  string　was　supreme　in　the　rarer　art　of　getting　himself　out；　even　the　meanest
  criminal　of　his　time　knew　what　was　expected　of　him；　so　long　as　he
  wandered　within　the　walled　yard；　or　listened　to　the　ministrations　of　the
  snuff…besmirched　Ordinary。　　He　might　show　a　lamentable　lack　of
  cleverness　in　carrying　off　his　booty；　he　might　prove　a　too　easy　victim　to
  the　wiles　of　the　thief…catcher；　but　he　never　fell　short　of　courage；　when
  asked　to　sustain　the　consequences　of　his　crime。
  Newgate；　compared　by　one　eminent　author　to　a　university；　by　another
  to　a　ship；　was　a　republic；　whose　liberty　extended　only　so　far　as　its　iron
  door。　　While　there　was　no　liberty　without；　there　was　licence　within；　and　if
  the　culprit；　who　paid　for　the　smallest　indiscretion　with　his　neck；
  understood　the　etiquette　of　the　place；　he　spent　his　last　weeks　in　an　orgie　of
  rollicking　lawlessness。　　He　drank；　he　ate；　he　diced；　he　received　his
  friends；　or　chaffed　the　Ordinary；　he　attempted；　through　the　well…　paid
  cunning　of　the　Clerk；　to　bribe　the　jury；　and　when　every　artifice　had　failed
  he　went　to　Tyburn　like　a　man。　　If　he　knew　not　how　to　live；　at　least　he
  would　show　a　resentful　world　how　to　die。
  ‘In　no　country；'　wrote　Sir　T。　Smith；　a　distinguished　lawyer　of　the　time；
  ‘do　malefactors　go　to　execution　more　intrepidly　than　in　England'；　and
  assuredly；　buoyed　up　by　custom　and　the　approval　of　their　fellows；　Wild's
  victims　made　a　brave　show　at　the　gallows。　　Nor　was　their　bravery　the
  result　of　a　common　callousness。　　They　understood　at　once　the　humour
  and　the　delicacy　of　the　situation。　　Though　hitherto　they　had　chaffed　the
  Ordinary；　they　now　listened　to　his　exhortation　with　at　least　a　semblance　of
  respect；　and　though　their　last　night　upon　earth　might　have　been　devoted　to
  a　joyous　company；　they　did　not　withhold　their　ear　from　the　Bellman's
  Chant。　　As　twelve　o'clock　approachedtheir　last　midnight　upon　earth
  they　would　interrupt　the　most　spirited　discourse；　they　would　check　the　tour
  of　the　mellowest　bottle　to　listen　to　the　solemn　doggerel。　　‘All　you　that　in
  the　condemn'd　hole　do　lie；'　groaned　the　Bellman　of　St。　Sepulchre's　in　his
  duskiest　voice；　and　they　who　held　revel　in　the　condemned　hole　prayed
  silence　of　their　friends　for　the　familiar　cadences：
  All　you　that　in　the　condemn'd　hole　do　lie；　Prepare　you；　for　to…morrow
  you　shall　die；　Watch　all　and　pray；　the　hour　is　drawing　near；　That　you
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  A　BOOK　OF　SCOUNDRELS
  before　th'　Almighty　must　appear。　Examine　well　yourselves；　in　time　repent
  That　you　may　not　t'　eternal　flames　be　sent；　And　when　St。　Pulchre's　bell　to…
  morrow　tolls；　The　Lord　above　have　mercy　on　your　souls。
  Past　twelve　o'clock！
  Even　if　this　warning　voice　struck　a　momentary　terror　into　their
  offending　souls；　they　were