Dishonesty begins not with the poor but with the powerful

Are people less honest than they used to be? Most would say, bitterly, yes. But it depends on what happens to you. I once carelessly dropped a £10 note in Uxbridge High Street. An urchin ran after me and triumphantly handed it to me. He seemed delighted to do me a service and adamantly refused the coin I offered him as a reward. On the other hand, the celebrated malapropist judge, William Arabin (1773–1841), is often quoted as saying of the citizens of Uxbridge, ‘They will steal the very teeth out of your mouth as you walk through the streets. I know it from experience.’
What is annoying about being robbed is not so much the loss as the evidence of your own folly. Travelling the other week in Belgium, I did something unusual for me: put the case containing my credit cards in my back trouser pocket. At Brussels station, as I was about to clamber aboard the train with a heavy bag, an obliging local (as I thought) helped me on.