Enough has now been said and quoted to give a fair general notion of the matrimonial proceedings in the Fleet. A good deal, however, remains untold which cannot be recounted in these pages, and which would certainly not modify the opinion that the reader has probably formed as to the iniquity and degradation of the parsons.

It may appear strange to some that the legislature should have permitted the Fleet scandals to remain undisturbed for the long period of three-quarters of a century. But the fact is that enactments designed to remedy the evil were from time to time passed, which, however, all failed of their object, since, although they punished clandestine matrimony, they did not render such matrimony invalid. The penalties which they imposed were evaded by various clever manœuvres, and the mischief which they were intended to allay remained practically unchecked. Thus "the very vitals of the salutary laws which render property and person safe, continued to be brought into danger by the knavish tricks that debauchees and fortune-hunters were enabled to practise through the Fleet clergy;" and it was not until Lord Chancellor Hardwicke brought forward his famous bill that the evil was effectually destroyed. That measure provided that any person solemnizing matrimony otherwise than in a church or public chapel, and without banns or licence, should, on conviction, be adjudged guilty of felony, and be transported for fourteen years; it also provided that all such marriages should be null and void. Like all measures, however useful and salutary, which have the appearance of interfering with an established right, this bill met with the strongest opposition. Eventually, however, it passed into law, and began to operate on the 26th March, 1754. The general public and the parsons alike made the most of their time just at the last; and on the 25th March the crowd of applicants for marriage at the Fleet must have been enormous, for, in one register-book alone, 217 weddings are recorded as having been celebrated on that day.

The existence of the Fleet scandals during the three-quarters of a century which we have been reviewing is as strong a proof as can be adduced of the degraded condition of the English Church at that period: and indeed there is too much reason for believing that the Fleet parsons were little worse, although they might be less fortunate, than the majority of their beneficed brethren. Of course we may congratulate ourselves in these days, not only that our Marriage Laws have been so broadened and improved as to leave no reasonable excuse for, or indeed possibility of, clandestine matrimony; but also that probably not half-a-dozen priests holding orders in our Church could now be found who would lend themselves to irregularities such as those we have been considering, however great the facility, or the pecuniary inducement.

E. W.

into more familiar regions, and reach town for the season, and a few hours in a lumbering vetturino, with some shivering comments on the chilly blasts that sweep down upon them as they hurry over the St. Gothard or the Brenner, are all they realize of Alpine life in their passage; and yet never in the whole year is that world of mountain and river, wood and snow, half so beautiful.

Ce joli mois de Mai! It brings sunshine and warmth and gladness in its hand, loosening the frozen streams, and sending them down with great leaps of gladness white from the glaciers that gave them birth, melting the snow-mantle that has kept the tender plants and roots warmly covered from the frost, and wakening them with smiles and promises of summer: so that bare hill-sides that looked grim and desolate with snow half melted in dirty brown patches, are covered in a few hours with a radiancy of colour and bloom and sweetness, as the blossoms creep out into the sunshine, and birds are singing and insects humming their thanksgivings in a very jubilation of honeyed delight. The world seems young again, fresh and rested after its winter sleep, the roads have not grown white with the accumulated dust of summer, and the noonday heat which will bring headaches to weary August travellers, is still an unknown misery; the days are long, with bright sunrises and sunsets, and there is a frosty feeling in the air which is wonderfully exhilarating; and though the mountains be, many of them, only six or seven thousand feet high, you believe in perpetual snow as you see peak after peak gleaming sharply against the clear blue of the sky, and forget measurements and theodolites and any scientific assertions, taking it all on trust as unrivalled in grandeur and sublimity. The dark pine-woods clothe the sides of the hills, and

everywhere there is a soft veil of greenery where larch and beech put out their golden buds and light up the spaces between the fir-shadows like veritable sunshine.

The still deep lakes of Tyrol, very small for the most part, have wonderful colours in their depths-emerald and ultramarine and gorgeous purple, as though Héré loved them, and had made them beautiful with reflections from peacocks' wings and breasts unseen by mortals; or possibly in later times, when German faerieland had supplanted old Olympus, the gnomes had sunk shafts and mined out galleries, piling stores of jewels and brilliant ore, and done a great business while shares were at a premium, till suddenly the world lost faith in them, treated them altogether as a myth, poor little elves, and so, finding the mine at a discount, they being not more than mortals, even a little less so in the matter of temper, let in the water and disappeared from the earth.

Writing of the spring as it ought to be in Tyrol, and as we found it during many happy weeks, it is only fair to state that in the year of grace 1866, the seasons were a little behindhand, and somehow the frost held its own in an unconscionable manner; and there are disadvantages in travelling in a country where visitors only come in with the late vegetables, and no blankets are kept! We consoled ourselves with philosophy, but facts are stern things, and it is difficult to believe that "whatever is is best" with the thermometer at 17°, and when you have to sleep in a German bed with one sheet and a duvet three feet square as your only defence against the cold. Certainly there are degrees of misery, and we were by no means at the lowest; but if the wind had not changed, and the frost had held, and we had journeyed far enough, we might have found ourselves in that outlying district where the cold was so intense that men's words froze as they were uttered, and conversation could only be resumed with the thaw in the spring!

We reached Berchtesgaden on the 22nd of May, in rather a bad humour, after a long wet drive from Reichenhall, and found that pleasantest of summer haunts ostentatiously preparing for warm weather and the butterflies it was to bring, and ignoring any poor strangers who might be "frozen out," and needing warmth and comfort and shelter.

Our tired horses dragged us along the broad high-road past many pretty chalets with cool green jalousies and shady arbours, but all hermetically sealed and guiltless of smoke or human habitant, past König Max's villa, also shuttered and barred and silent, past plashing fountains, the very thought of which made one shiver with a dire foreboding that we might have made a terrible mistake and that we were there too soon; on, with weary hoof splashing through the mud and sleepy driver nodding in the rain, till suddenly the Kutscher was smiling wide-eyed and wide-awake in a moment, and proving it by vigorous snappings of his whip. There was a quickening of the pace, a feeble demonstration of having done the last ten miles in an hour, and being a little blown in consequence, which imposed on nobody, and with a sudden jerk and rattle we drew up at the

Hotel zum Watzmann, at the entrance of the little town. There was a big brown church opposite, a sound of sweet voices chaunting, and wreaths of greenery all over the inn-door, where people were standing in a state of suppressed excitement, and a little Oberkellner, like a puppet on wires— the sole marionette of a theatre opened before its troupe had been made ready, and with all the strings throughout the establishment attached to his small individuality,-who rushed to open our carriage-door, precipitating himself upon a bundle of cloaks with a vociferous welcome.

"Yes, the Herr had been there-the rooms were ready, the Herr had himself selected them. We were fortunate in our arrival-as, being the only guests, we could choose what pleased us. Just now it was true there were people, but that was only a wedding-one or two hundred of the peasants who would sup there, and there would be a dance. Could the Fräulein see them? Yes, surely-and dance also there would be music: they were singing now, they were in the church over there, having already feasted. Later they would drink again, and the Damen should see the bride. There were the rooms: were the Damen satisfied ?"

And so up the stairs and into the bright little chambers he hurried us; keeping up a ceaseless flow of talk, with much of hand-rubbing,-the cloaks being deposited,-and little hasty runs through different doors, and busy directions to a quiet, slow, handsome Kellnerin who smiled her welcome and hastened to make us comfortable. Such fresh, clean, pretty rooms they were, gay with muslin curtains and green jalousies, crimson cushions on the window-sills, floors polished with much scrubbing, downy pink-striped coverlets, a sofa and the little round table, with its red cloth, to make believe we had a salon, and a great white earthenware stove filling up a quarter of the room, and looking as though many hours and more faggots would be needed before any warmth could penetrate its icy smoothness. It was impossible to resist the friendly welcome, the promise of dinner at the moment, and a dance afterwards, the hesitating request that we would graciously eat in a small room adjoining, the Speisesaal being occupied by the bridal party. We thawed at once; fraternized with the waiter, with the chambermaid, with the whole establishment; threw ourselves heart and soul into the interests of the moment, and determined to enjoy the fun. It was freezing hard-about that there could be no mistake-and the little salon was two-thirds window and guiltless of a fireplace. We ate and shivered and listened to F.'s histories of his morning. He having preceded us on foot and arrived in time for the whole ceremony, and having witnessed sundry libations, was sceptical of the feasibility of our sharing even as spectators in the evening celebrations; but by this time the cold had become so intense, that his account of the big room with its warmth and light and many people, even with the tobacco-smoke, sounded welcome, and we ventured in, taking up a safe position near the door.

The scene was wonderfully picturesque and full of interest; the people enjoyed themselves so thoroughly, with such happy light-hearted merri

ment, with such earnest good-will, and the throng of glad faces, honest hard-working men and women, strong and sturdy, was a pleasant sight to see. The men were tall well-grown fellows, with handsome sun-burnt faces, with gay-coloured braces crossed over their white shirts-for there was hardly a jacket to be seen in the crowd, the dancing was too much in earnest for the carrying of any needless weight,-and wearing highcrowned hats, grey or black, some with the broad green band of the Salz-kammergut, all with feathers-white Lämmergeier, black Auerhahn, glossy and curled-a bunch of flowers, or a tassel, green or silver.

The women were in dark brown or black garments, hanging in heavy folds half-way below the knee, the bodice relieved with dainty chemisette or gay-coloured kerchief matching the brilliant apron, the hair glossy and braided, the dancers in green wreaths. One or two maidens who might, perhaps, aspire to belong to a higher class than the peasants around them wore flowing white robes, with trains that mournfully recalled Western civilization.

Down one side of the room sat the men and matrons,-house-fathers gossiping together over the weather and the crops, and clinking beerglasses; the mothers, with mild quiet faces and steadfast eyes shining out under the shade of their broad hats, with kind glances at the younger life around them, and pleasant smiles over the bright faces so innocently happy, and whispered reminders of past days and other Brautfests, and of their own old romances. Good souls, they looked quiet and patient, as