e way of the man who slips away. Taking to flight
necessitates disguise. Persons of importance--even illustrious
characters--were reduced to these expedients, only fit for malefactors.
Their independent habits rendered it difficult for them to escape
through the meshes of authority. A rogue who violates the conditions of
his ticket-of-leave comports himself before the police as innocently as
a saint; but imagine innocence constrained to act a part; virtue
disguising its voice; a glorious reputation hiding under a mask. Yonder
passer-by is a man of well-earned celebrity; he is in quest of a false
passport. The equivocal proceedings of one absconding from the reach of
the law is no proof that he is not a hero. Ephemeral but characteristic
features of the time of which our so-called regular history takes no
note, but which the true painter of the age will bring out into relief.
Under cover of these flights and concealments of honest men, genuine
rogues, less watched and suspected, managed often to get clear off. A
scoundrel, who found it convenient to disappear, would take advantage of
the general pell-mell, tack himself on to the political refugees, and,
thanks to his greater skill in the art, would contrive to appear in that
dim twilight more honest even than his honest neighbours. Nothing looks
more awkward and confused sometimes than honesty unjustly condemned. It
is out of its element, and is almost sure to commit itself.

It is a curious fact, that this voluntary expatriation, particularly
with honest folks, appeared to lead to every strange turn of fortune.
The modicum of civilisation which a scamp brought with him from London
or Paris became, perhaps, a valuable stock in trade in some primitive
country, ingratiated him with the people, and enabled him to strike
into new paths. There is nothing impossible in a man's escaping thus
from the laws, to reappear elsewhere as a dignitary among the
priesthood. There was something phantasmagorial in these sudden
disappearances; and more than one such flight has led to events like the
marvels of a dream. An escapade of this kind, indeed, seemed to end
naturally in the wild and wonderful; as when some broken bankrupt
suddenly decamps to turn up again twenty years later as Grand Vizier to
the Mogul, or as a king in Tasmania.

Rendering assistance to these fugitives was an established trade, and,
looking to the abundance of business of that kind, was a highly
profitable one. It