The duties of the watch comprise the apprehending of disorderly and suspected persons and handing them over to the constable; testing the fastenings of houses, shops and warehouses, and warning the occupier when necessary; twice every hour the watchmen must patrol his beat, and "as loudly and audibly as he can, proclaim the time of the night or morning." On coming off duty, the watchman has to submit his staff, rattle and lantern for the inspection of the constable; neglect of duty entails a fine of ten shillings, and any person who assaults a watchman in the execution of his office renders himself liable to a £5 penalty; watchmen are forbidden to frequent alehouses during their tour of duty, and provision is made for the punishment of those publicans who harbour them. There is much that is good in this Act, but it applied only to Westminster, and half of its provisions were never carried out. Instead of the uniform order that was to be established, the old confusion continued, the fine of five pounds was insufficient to protect the watchmen from assault, and the peace officers still tippled in alehouses, whilst thieves were comfortably carrying home the booty they had so easily secured. The utter inadequacy of the whole system of defence against civil tumults, and the complete helplessness of London to protect itself against mob violence, was brought home to its inhabitants in a startlingly convincing manner in the course of those six terrible days during which their city was within an ace of being destroyed at the hands of the rabble let loose upon her streets by the crackbrained fanatic, Lord George Gordon. The events that took place in the first week of June 1780, and which are to some extent familiar to us through the pages of "Barnaby Rudge," would never have happened if, in the earlier stages of the outbreak, the rioters had had opposed to them even a couple of hundred resolute constables, accustomed to deal with mobs, and working under the direction of officers experienced in the tactics of street-fighting. At no time is an efficient civil force of such inestimable value as it is at the first appearance of great popular ferment; for in accordance with the strength or weakness of the police at that moment, is the course of after events decided. A crowd is like a great volume of water, harmless as long as its embankments are kept in repair and, if necessary, strengthened, but capable of an infinite amount of mischief if once allowed to break its barriers.