Montesinos.—­But the number of our vagabonds has greatly diminished.  In your Henry’s reign it is affirmed that no fewer than 72,000 criminals were hanged; you have yourself described them as strung up by scores upon a gibbet all over the country.  Even in the golden days of good Queen Bess the executions were from three to four hundred annually.  A large allowance must be made for the increased humanity of the nation, and the humaner temper with which the laws are administered:  but the new crimes which increased wealth and a system of credit on one hand, and increased ingenuity, and new means of mischief on the part of the depredators have produced, must also be taken into the account.  And the result will show a diminution in the number of those who prey upon society either by open war or secret wiles.

Sir Thomas More.—­Add your paupers to the list, and you will then have added to it not less than an eighth of your whole population.  But looking at the depredators alone, perhaps it will be found that the evil is at this time more widely extended, more intimately connected with the constitution of society, like a chronic and organic disease, and therefore more difficult of cure.  Like other vermin they are numerous in proportion as they find shelter; and for this species of noxious beast large towns and manufacturing districts afford better cover than the forest or the waste.  The fault lies in your institutions, which in the time of the Saxons were better adapted to maintain security and order than they are now.  No man in those days could prey upon society unless he were at war with it as an outlaw, a proclaimed and open enemy.  Rude as the laws were, the purposes of law had not then been perverted:  it had not been made a craft; it served to deter men from committing crimes, or to punish them for the commission; never to shield notorious, acknowledged, impudent guilt from condign punishment.  And in the fabric of society, imperfect as it was, the outline and rudiments of what it ought to be were distinctly marked in some main parts, where they are now well-nigh utterly effaced.  Every person had his place.  There was a system of superintendence everywhere, civil as well as religious.  They who were born in villenage were born to an inheritance of labour, but not of inevitable depravity and wretchedness.  If one class were regarded in some respects as cattle they were at least taken care of; they were trained, fed, sheltered and protected; and there was an eye upon them when they strayed.  None were wild, unless they ran wild wilfully, and in defiance of control.  None were beneath the notice of the priest, nor placed out of the possible reach of his instruction and his care.  But how large a part of your population are like the dogs at Lisbon and Constantinople, unowned, unbroken to any useful purpose, subsisting by chance or by prey, living in filth, mischief, and wretchedness, a nuisance to the community while they live, and dying miserably at last!  This evil had its beginning in my days; it is now approaching fast to its consummation.