I
“When I think,” said Coleridge, “that every morning, in Paris alone,
thirty thousand fellows wake up, and rise with the fixed and settled
idea of appropriating other people’s money, it is with renewed wonder
that every night, when I go home, I find my purse still in my pocket.”
And yet it is not those who simply aim to steal your portemonnaie
who are either the most dishonest or the most formidable.
To stand at the corner of some dark street, and rush upon the first
man that comes along, demanding, “Your money or your life,” is but a
poor business, devoid of all prestige, and long since given up to
chivalrous natures.
A man must be something worse than a simpleton to still ply his
trade on the high-roads, exposed to all sorts of annoyances on the
part of the gendarmes, when manufacturing and financial enterprises
offer such a magnificently fertile field to the activity of
imaginative people.
And, in order to thoroughly understand the mode of proceeding in
this particular field, it is sufficient to open from time to time a
copy of “The Police Gazette,” and to read some trial, like that, for
instance, of one Lefurteux, ex-president of the Company for the
Drainage and Improvement of the Orne Swamps.
This took place less than a month ago in one of the police-courts.
The Judge to the Accused--Your profession?