ut a licence, practically all the proceedings are taken in
defence of the privileges and prejudices of the employing classes
against the employed classes. Clearly the village idea is not wholly
wrong. In theory, the policeman represents the general public; in
practice, he stands for middle-class decorum and the rights of property;
and what the people say is roughly true--there is one law for the rich,
and another for the poor.

But it is only roughly true, and one must get it a little more exact to
appreciate the position in which the labouring-folk stand. I am not
disposed to say anything here against the administration of the law by
the justices, when offenders are brought before them; but in the choice
or detection of offenders I must point out that a great deal of respect
of persons is shown. Remember what that old man said, who would have
liked to see the fir-woods go up in flames: "'Tis all fenced in, and now
if you looks over the fence you be locked up for it." That was an
exaggeration, of course--a sort of artistic licence, a piece of oratory;
yet for him the assertion held more than a grain of truth. The case is
that of the two sorts of boys over again. Where a middle-class man may
take his Sunday walk securely, risking nothing worse than being civilly
turned back by a game-keeper, these village men dare not go, unless they
are prepared to answer a summons for "trespassing for an unlawful
purpose," or "in search of game." Let it be admitted that the unlawful
purpose is sometimes proved; at least, the trespassers are occasionally
found to have rabbit-wires concealed about their persons. The remarkable
thing, however, is that they should have been searched in order to make
this discovery. The searching may be legal, for all that I know; yet I
do not seem to see a middle-class man--a shopkeeper from the town, or
any employer of labour--submitting to the process, as the cowed
labouring man apparently does. It will be said that the middle-class man
is in no fear of such an outrage, because he is not suspect. But that is
conceding the greater part of what I wish to demonstrate. Rightly or
wrongly, the labouring man is suspect. A distinction of caste is made
against him. The law, which pretends to impartiality, sets him in a
lower and less privileged place than his employers; and he knows it. In
alleging that he might not look over a fence without being locked up for
it my old acquaintance merely overstated a palpable