A case of the pretentious impostor of recent date, imprisoned in various German prisons, is that of George Manolescu, whose memoirs have appeared in the form of an autobiography. So varied were the experiences of this thorough-paced scoundrel, so cleverly did he carry out his gigantic depredations and his numerous frauds and thefts great and small, almost always without any violence, that his story has all the elements of romance. Manolescu was highly gifted by nature. Endowed with a handsome person, he appeared to have an affectionate disposition, spoke several languages with ease and fluency, and his singular charm of manner made him at home in the most fastidious society. Exhibiting an utter disregard of the commonest principles of right and wrong, he devoted his talents and his marvellous ingenuity to criminal malpractices. George Manolescu was born on May 20th, 1871, in the town of Ploesci in Roumania. His father was a captain of cavalry, who, owing to his implacable and haughty character, was constantly being shifted from one garrison to another; his mother, a great beauty, died when he was two years old, and the care of his early childhood was confided to his grandmother, whom he caused endless trouble. Later on he was transferred from school to school, for his passionate love of perpetual change and his undisciplined nature prevented him from settling down to work anywhere. This longing for travels and adventures was, indeed, deep seated and unconquerable, so that at last his father sought to give it a natural vent by sending him to an academy for naval cadets. At first his conduct was good, but soon his intolerance of control asserted itself and led him to insubordination. On his return to the academy after a vacation, he misconducted himself and was punished with close confinement in a small cell under the roof. He managed, however, to break open the door, climb out on the roof and let himself down into the street by means of the nearest telegraph post. He started at once for the harbour of Galatz, and with only one franc, 50 centimes for his whole fortune, stowed himself away on a steamer bound for Constantinople. The captain had him put on shore at that port. Half dead with fatigue and hunger, he obtained a portion of _pilaf_ from the first vendor of that delicacy whom he met in the streets of the Turkish capital, and after satisfying his appetite, in lieu of payment he flung the empty dish at the man’s head and took to his heels. He ran up to Pera and entered the public garden, where an entertainment was in progress at a theatre of varieties. Here he met a Turkish officer who noticed him and with whom he had some conversation. Seeing the corner of a pocket book protruding from that worthy’s half-open coat, the boy with lightning speed possessed himself of it unobserved, and also picked the officer’s pocket of a cigarette case encrusted with diamonds. He then escaped with his booty. The pocket book contained 20