28 SEPTEMBER 1929, Page 12

A Hundred Years Ago

THE SPECTATOR, SEPTEMBER 26TH, 1829.

THE NEW POLICE.

The regulations for the new police have been published. They are very long, and our space does not permit us to attempt even an abridgment of them. We can merely glance at those that are more immediately directed to the protection of the public, and in which even the general reader is directly interested. The principle on which all police ought to be founded, but which has hitherto been hardly acknowledged, and almost never acted on by ours, namely, the prevention of crime, is distinctly laid down in the regulations. And it is stated in the preliminary remarks, that wherever many offences axe committed, it must appear to the Commissioners that the police of that district is not properly conducted. It is unnecessary to state that under the present, or we should rather say under the late system, a precisely contrary rule was observed, and the watchman who had most charges to make had not only the praise, but the reward of superior vigilance. The attempt to repress crime while yet inchoate, instead of punishing it when perpetrated, will require the exercise of more judgment than the old guardians of the night could be supposed to possess. The police-men are to give their whole time to the public - never to appear but in uniform : their pay is to be three shillings per day. One-half will mount guard from sunset to midnight ; the other half from midnight to sunrise ; so that the average time of actual employment throughout the year will be six hours per day.

MALT AND ALE.

There seems to be no policy to which a regard for the peace and wellbeing of the lower orders would direct an honest Legislature more naturally than the encouragement of ale-drinking and the discouragement of spirits-drinking. The effects of ale on the mind are gentle and soothing ; it makes men averse above all things from breaches of the peace—inclines them to love the' Church, to venerate the Government, and inspires them with goodwill to both high and low. On ale Hob gets quietly muddled, quietly steals to bed, and rises next day with nerves unshattered, head unaching, like a giant refreshed from slumber.

Strange, however, as it must appear every possible endeavourhas been made to drive this invigorating beverage from the land.