Guildford has still to be civilized. As soon as the
soldiers were with- drawn , the roughs who infest the town recommenced their accustomed amusements—breaking the constables' windows, demanding money from Mr. Piper, the Mayor, smashing his windows and doors when refused, and finally sending a quiet policeman away in a hopeless state. A reward of 2001. has, it is said, been offered for the dis- covery of the ringleaders, and something will probably be done; but the government of the town seems in a hopeless condition. Is there no authority with energy or brains to appoint a hundred supernumerary policemen for six months or a year, or organize a regular body of special constables, or turn out the local gentry, or do anything except whine to Sir George Grey for the assistance of soldiers ? The truth is, we believe, that "society" lives mostly out of the town, and, till a few villas have been plundered, or an Onslow pelted, the magistracy will be content to keep on in the old groove. They will probably be woke up at last by a few heavy demands for compensation.
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