to the river and dockyard police. I have already described on earlier pages[14] the systematic depredations that went on amid the Thames shipping in earlier days. This called imperatively for reform, and a marine police was established to watch over our ships and cargoes and guard the wharves and quays. Regular boat patrols were always on the move about the river, and the police, who carried arms, had considerable powers. This Thames branch was not immediately taken over by Peel's new police, but it is now part and parcel of the Metropolitan force, and a very perfect system obtains. The river police has its headquarters in the well-known floating station at Waterloo Bridge, formerly a steamboat pier, with a cutter at Erith, and it also has the services of several small steam launches for rapid transit up and down the river. There is very little crime upon the great waterway, thanks to the vigilance of the Thames police, who also do good work in preventing suicides, while they have many opportunities of calling attention to possible foul play by their recovery of bodies floating on the stream. What is true of the Metropolitan force applies equally to the City Police. The City forms an _imperium in imperio_, one square mile of absolutely independent territory interpolated in the very heart and centre of London. The City Police was formed at the same time as the Metropolitan, but the great municipality claimed the right to manage its own police affairs, declining Government subsidies as resolutely as it resisted Government control. The House of Commons in 1839 frankly acknowledged that the City was justified in its pretensions, and that it was certain to maintain a good and efficient police force. That anticipation has been fully borne out, and the City Police is admitted on all hands to be a first-class force, well organised and most effective, filled with fine men who reach a high standard both of intelligence and of physique. It has lighter duties by night, when the City empties like a church after service, but during the day it has vast cares and responsibilities, the duty of regulating the congested street traffic in the narrow City thoroughfares being perhaps the most onerous. Like their comrades beyond the boundary, the City police are largely employed by private individuals; banks, exchanges, public offices, and so forth, gladly put themselves under official protection. It should have been mentioned, when dealing with the Metropolitan Police, that some 1,800 officers of all ranks, from superintendents to private constables, are regularly engaged in a variety of posts outside ordinary police duty. Every great department of State is guarded by them; the Sovereign's sacred person, the princes of the blood, the royal palaces, all public buildings, museums and collections, many of the parks and public gardens, the powder factories, are among the institutions confided to their care. Going farther afield, it is interesting to note