accused
of relying for his effects upon an elaborate apparatus, half knife,
half scissors, wherewith to rip the pockets of his victims. The mere
backbiting of envy! An artistic triumph was never won save by legitimate
means; and the hero who plundered the Dulce of L--r at Ranelagh, who
emptied the pockets of his acquaintance without fear of exposure,
who all but carried off the priceless snuff-box of Count Orloff, most
assuredly followed his craft in full simplicity and with a proper
scorn of clumsy artifice. At his first appearance he was the master,
sumptuously apparelled, with Price for valet. At Dublin his birth and
quality were never questioned, and when he made a descent upon London
it was in company with Captain W. H--n, who remained for years his loyal
friend. He visited Brighton as the chosen companion of Lord Ferrers
and the wicked Lord Lyttelton. His manners and learning were alike
irresistible. Though the picking of pockets was the art and interest of
his life, he was on terms of easy familiarity with light literature,
and he considered no toil too wearisome if only his conversation might
dazzle his victims. Two maxims he charactered upon his heart: the one,
never to run a large risk for a small gain; the other, never to forget
the carriage and diction of a gentleman.

He never stooped to pilfer, until exposure and decay had weakened his
hand. In his first week at Dublin he carried off L1000, and it was only
his fateful interview with Sir John Fielding that gave him poverty for a
bedfellow. Even at the end, when he slunk from town to town, a notorious
outlaw, he had inspirations of his ancient magnificence, and--at
Chester--he eluded the vigilance of his enemies and captured
L600, wherewith he purchased some months of respectability. Now,
respectability was ever dear to him, and it was at once his pleasure and
profit to live in the highest society. Were it not blasphemy to sully
Barrington with slang you would call him a member of the swell-mob, but,
having cultivated a grave and sober style for himself, he recoiled in
horror from the flash lingo, and his susceptibility demands respect.

He kept a commonplace book! Was ever such thrift in a thief? Whatever
images or thoughts flashed through his brain, he seized them on paper,
even 'amidst the jollity of a tavern, or in the warmth of an interesting
conversation.' Was it then strange that he triumphed as a man of
fashionable and cultured leisure? He would vis