son in Scotland was called the "Heart of Midlothian" so the Old Bailey
may be considered the Heart of Civilization. Its commanding situation,
in the very centre of a commercial population, entitles it to this
distinction; for nothing is supposed to have so civilizing an influence
as Commerce. I was always impressed with its beautiful and picturesque
appearance, especially on a fine summer morning, during its sittings,
when the sun was pouring its brightest beams on its lively portals. What
a charming picture was presented to your view, when the gates being open,
the range of sheds on the left met the eye, especially the centre one
where the gallows is kept packed up for future use. The gallows on the
one side might be seen and the stately carriages of my Lord Mayor and
Sheriffs on the other! Gorgeous coachmen and footmen in resplendent
liveries; magnificent civic dignitaries in elaborate liveries too, rich
with gold and bright with colour, stepping forth from their carriages,
amid loud cries of "Make way!" holding in their white-gloved hands large
bouquets of the loveliest flowers, emblems of--what?

Crime truly has its magnificent accompaniments, and if it does not dress
itself, as of old, in the rich costumes of a Turpin or a Duval, it is not
without its beautiful surroundings. Here, where the channels and gutters
of crime converge, is built, in the centre of the greatest commercial
city in the world, the Bailey. Mr. Bumpkin wandered about for hours
through a reeking unsavoury crowd of thieves and thieves' companions,
idlers of every type of blackguardism, ruffians of every degree of
criminality; boys and girls receiving their finishing lessons in crime
under the dock, as they used to do only a few years ago under the
gallows. The public street is given over to the enemies of Society; and
Civilisation looks on without a shudder or regret, as though crime were a
necessity, and the Old Bailey, in the heart of London, no disgrace.

And a little dirty, greasy hatted, black whiskered man, after pushing
hither and thither through this pestiferous crowd as though he had
business with everybody, but did not exactly know what it was, at length
approached Mr. Bumpkin; and after standing a few minutes by his side
eyeing him with keen hungry looks, began that interesting conversation
about the weather which seems always so universally acceptable. Mr.
Bumpkin was tired. He had been wandering for hours in the street, and