rds into chambers still widening as they increase their distance.
This _may_ be an image of an adventurer's mind when open to compunction,
but generally it is exactly reversed; he sees the past sections of his
life, however spacious heretofore, crowding up and narrowing into
vanishing points to his immediate eye. And such also they become for the
public. The villain, who walks, like AEneas at Carthage, shrouded in
mist, is as little pursued by any bad report for his forgotten misdeeds
as he is usually by remorse. In the process of losing their relation to
any known and visible person, acts of fraud, robbery, murder, lose all
distinct place in the memory. Such acts are remembered only through
persons. And hence it is that many interesting murders, worthy to become
cabinet gems in a museum of such works, have wasted their sweetness on
the desert air even in our time, for no other reason than that the
parties concerned did not amplify their proportions upon the public eye;
the sufferers were perhaps themselves knaves; and the doers had
retreated from all public knowledge into the mighty crowds of London or
Glasgow.

This excursus, on the case of adventurers who run away from their own
crimes into the pathless wildernesses of vast cities, may appear
disproportionate. But excuse it, reader, for the subject is interesting;
and with relation to our Eastern empire it is peculiarly so. Many are
the anecdotes we could tell, derived from Oriental connections, about
foreign scamps who have first exposed the cloven foot when inextricably
connected with political intrigues or commercial interests, or possibly
with domestic and confidential secrets. The dangerousness of their
characters first began to reveal itself after they had become dangerous
by their present position.

Mr. Bennett mentions one lively illustration of this in the case of a
foreigner, who had come immediately from the Cape of Good Hope; so far,
but not farther, he could be traced. And what part had he played at the
Cape? The illustrious one of private sentinel, with a distant prospect
perhaps of rising to be a drum-major. This man--possibly a refugee from
the bagnio at Marseilles, or from the Italian galleys--was soon allowed
to seat himself in an office of L1,000 per annum. For what? For which of
his vices? Our English and Scottish brothers, honourable and educated,
must sacrifice country, compass land and sea, face a life of storms,
with often but a slender chanc