"Most assuredly," answered the Minister. "Make a note that a reply is to be sent to that effect. I am glad the system of solitary confinement, black cloth masks, and numbers instead of names, works well. I shall gradually apply it to every criminal prison in England. At the same time, I must endeavour to throw the odium of the introduction of that system upon the justices in quarter sessions assembled—in case I should be assailed on the subject in the House."
"Certainly, my lord. This letter is from the secret agent, sent down to Manchester to inquire into the constitution and principles of the Independent Order of Rechabites. He obtained admission into a lodge, and was regularly initiated a member of the Brotherhood. He finds that the Rechabites are about eighty thousand in number, having lodges in all the great cities and towns of England, with the head-quarters at Manchester. The Order is not political; but is formed of sections of the Teetotal Societies. The government need not entertain any fears of this combination. The agent sends up a detailed account of the secrets and signs connected with the Order, accompanied by a copy of the rules and regulations."
"These Teetotalers must not be encouraged. They are seriously injuring the Excise-revenues. Proceed."
"This letter, my lord, is from the principal agent sent down into the mining districts, to encourage a spirit of discontent amongst the pitmen. He says that he has no doubt of being enabled to produce a disturbance in the north, and thus afford your lordship the wished-for opportunity of sending more troops in that direction. When once over-awed by the presence of a formidable number of bayonets, the pitmen will be compelled to submit to the terms dictated by the coal-mine proprietors; and your lordship's aims will be thus accomplished."
"I am glad of that. The coal-mine proprietors are rich and influential men, whom it is necessary to conciliate," said the Minister. "What next?"
"Here is a letter, my lord," continued the Secretary, "from Sir Joseph Gosborne, stating that his daughter, Miss Gosborne, was taken into custody yesterday morning on an accusation of stealing a jar of anchovies from an oilman's shop. The magistrate refused to take bail, and remanded the young lady until next Monday. Sir Joseph is anxious that his daughter should be admitted to bail, because, in that case, should he fail to settle with the prosecutor, he can keep his daughter out of the way when the day of trial arrives, and pay the money for the estreated recognizances. He is moreover desirous that the case should be sent to the Sessions, because, if by any accident the matter should go to trial, a verdict of acquittal is certain at the hands of a Clerkenwell jury, but by no means sure with an Old Bailey one."
"Make a memorandum to write to the magistrate who will hear the case next Monday, to take bail—moderate bail, mind—and to refer the matter to the Sessions. We must not refuse to oblige Sir Joseph Gosborne."
While the private secretary was still writing, a servant entered and informed the Minister that Mr. Teynham was waiting, and solicited an audience.
"Ah! the new magistrate at Marlborough Street," exclaimed the Home Secretary. "Show him in."
Mr. Teynham, a middle-aged gentleman attired in black, was introduced accordingly. He bowed very low to the Minister, and, when desired to take a chair, obsequiously seated himself upon the very edge.
"I have recommended you to Her Majesty, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister, "as a fit and proper person to fill the situation of police-magistrate and justice of the peace at the Marlborough Street Court; and her Majesty has been most graciously pleased to confirm the appointment."
Mr. Teynham bowed very low, and became entangled in a labyrinth of acknowledgments, with which "deep gratitude"—"sense of duty"—"impartial distribution of justice," and such like phrases were blended.
"It is necessary," said the Minister, after a pause, "that I should give you a few instructions with respect to the functions upon which you are about to enter. You are aware, Mr. Teynham, that the young gentlemen of the aristocracy are occasionally addicted to wrenching off knockers, pulling down bells, and other innocent little pranks of a similar nature. These are delicate cases to deal with, Mr. Teynham; but I need scarcely inform you that the treadmill is not for the aristocracy."
"I understand, my lord. A trifling fine, with a reprimand—and a little wholesome advice—"
"Precisely, Mr. Teynham—precisely!" cried the Minister: "I see that you understand your business well. The nice discrimination which you possess will always teach you whether you have a gentleman to deal with, or not. If a low person choose to divert himself with aristocratic amusements, punish him—do not spare him—send him to the treadmill. In the same way that game is preserved for the sport of the upper classes, so must the knockers and the bells be saved from spoliation by the lower orders."
"I fully comprehend your lordship," said the newly-made magistrate. "I should like, however, to know your lordship's sentiments in one respect."
"Speak, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister, with the most condescending affability, or the most affable condescension—whichever the reader likes best.
"Suppose, my lord, that a young nobleman or well-born gentleman wrenches off a knocker, and throws it into the street; then suppose, my lord, that a poor man, passing by, picks up the knocker and carries it off to a marine-store dealer's to sell it for old iron, in order to procure his family a meal; and then if your lordship will be kind enough to suppose that both those persons are brought up before me—the nobleman for wrenching off the knocker and throwing it away, and the poor man for picking it up and selling it—how am I to act in such a case?"
"Very ingenious—very ingenious, indeed, Mr. Teynham," said the Minister: "you will make an excellent magistrate! Your course in the case propounded is clear; the nobleman is fined five shillings for being drunk and disorderly—because all noblemen and gentlemen who wrench off knockers are drunk and disorderly; and the poor man must be committed to the House of Correction for three months. Nothing is plainer, Mr. Teynham."
"Nothing, my lord. Has your lordship any farther instructions?"
"Oh! decidedly," returned the Minister. "When any individual connected with a noble or influential family gets into a scrape, and is brought before you, hear the case in private, and exclude the reporters. Again, never commit such a person for trial, unless you are absolutely compelled. Let him go upon bail: it will be ten to one if you are ever troubled any more with the case. There is another point to which I must direct your attention. The practice of shoplifting among ladies has increased lately to a fearful degree. But, after all, it is only a little eccentricity—indeed one might almost call it an amiable weakness. The fact is, that many ladies will go into a shop, purchase a hundred-guinea shawl, and secrete an eighteen-penny pair of gloves. Prudent husbands and fathers avert the tradesman, with whom their wives and daughters deal, beforehand; and these trifling abstractions are duly entered in the running accounts; but now and then a lady does get taken up. In such a case you must show her every possible distinction. Order her a chair in the dock: and before the business comes on, permit her to remain with her friends in the 'magistrates' private room.' Then, if the prosecutor hesitates in giving his evidence, fly into a passion, tell him that he is prevaricating and not worthy to be believed upon his oath, and indignantly dismiss the case. The accused lady can then step into her carriage, and drive off comfortably home."
"Your lordship's instructions shall be complied with to the very letter," said Mr. Teynham.
"In a word," continued the Minister, "you must always shield the upper classes as much as possible; and in order to veil their little peccadilloes, bring out the misdeeds of the lower orders in the boldest relief. This is the only way to support the doctrine that the poor must be governed by the rich. Whenever young boys or girls appear as witnesses, ask them if they know the value of an oath; and if they reply in the negative, expatiate upon the frightful immorality prevalent among the poorer classes, so that the reporters may record your observations.