"He has three by this time, then," was the reply; "for, as sure as I stand here, I saw him married this morning to a lovely young female, at St. George's, Hanover-square."

Well, but man, if you are sure it was Burrell, why did you not interfere to prevent the ceremony from being completed ?" asked I. “Why, I did think of doing so, answered Flexmore, hesitatingly; "but you see its a ticklish thing interfering with other people's affairs. I should have been called upon to prove that he was Charles Burrell, and, if so, that he had two wives living; and I did not know you were in England, or else, I believe, I really should have jumped up, and stopped the proceedings. I'd have done it directly, if I had but been sure I was all right; for my heart bled for that poor young creature. However, while I was thinking about it, the parson went on, and before I had arrived at any decision they were spliced hard and fast; and Master Charley marched the young lady out of church, and popped her into a splendid travelling-carriage, drawn by four of Newman's greys, and with a lady's maid and a gentleman's gentleman ready packed in the rumble. So I expect they're on their way to the Continent by this time."

"What an unparalleled scoundrel!" was my indignant exclamation, as Flexmore concluded his recital; "but are you quite certain of the man's identity ?"

"He looked a good deal more like his former self than you do like the Tom Harrington who floored three pirates with as many sabre strokes, in that little affair off Cuba," was the reply; "but Charley Burrell is a fellow not easily to be mistaken-he's a deuced deal too goodlooking for that. He was by long odds the handsomest man there to-day, though there were several very spicy, not to say interesting, specimens of male humanity. Besides," he continued, "if you remember, one of the bullets that went through his hat, in that night escape, shaved a bit of the bark off his forehead. Well, I examined him closely this morning, to be sure that I was not making a fool of myself; and there, though he had brushed his hair well forward to hide it, I discovered the scar, plainly and unmistakeably."

Flexmore walked home with me, the strange occurrence he had witnessed furnishing us with an inexhaustible topic for conversation. One point which considerably perplexed us was, whether it was incumbent on us to take any, and, if so, what steps in the matter. Here, to our certain knowledge, had this scoundrel married three wives, all of whom were still

breathing this vital air, (Mary I had accidentally met at Portsmouth, on landing from India, and the fair and forsaken Zoe was, as a letter from a friend of mine travelling in Greece informed me, residing in her father's house, looking prettier than ever, and not apparently too disconsolate to flirt with any eligible individual who might come in her way). How many more victims to his handsome face and insinuating manners might be languishing after him in other quarters of the globe, it was impossible to say-he might, for aught we knew to the contrary, possess as many wives as Solomon. The question was, were we called upon to interfere, and, by exposing his rascality, at all events prevent his adding to his catalogue of treacheries for the time to come. I thought we were; Flexmore, on the other hand, considered it was no business of ours, and that Mary and her father were the proper people to check his career.

On reaching my lodgings, we parted, agreeing to meet next day, and come to a final decision on the subject. But the meeting was destined never to take place, for, at the time appointed, I was above 200 miles from London, having received a summons to attend the death-bed of a near and dear relative.

A chain of events, which would possess no interest for the reader, prevented so much as my recollecting the existence of Charles Burrell for many months; nor was it until my return from Madeira, about two years from the time of my meeting Flexmore, whither I had been sent for my health's sake, that I again heard of him.

Landing at Portsmouth, I, as usual, put up at the Crown Inn; but time had not neglected its office of destroyer-general here, more than elsewhere. My worthy host was gathered to his forefathers, and an intelligent young fellow (young no longer), whom I remembered as waiter, reigned in his stead. As he brought me a bottle of old port wine, when I had dined, I detained him, to inquire after Mary. At her father's death, having inherited a considerable sum of money, she had left Portsmouth, and was residing in the neighbourhood of London.

"And her good-for-nothing husband ?" inquired I.

"Was here two hours ago, Mr. Harrington; he could hardly have been out of the street before you arrived," was the answer. "I'm very glad I did not encounter him," returned I; for the meeting would not have been a pleasant one for either of us." "Oh, he would not have cared: he takes

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things very easily sir," continued the innkeeper. "He certainly has the the devil's own impudence: he marched in here, with his head up in the air, this morning, and ordered dinner, and a bottle of the old Burgundy, as coolly as if he didn't know that I'd heard of his goings-on for the last fifteen years."

"How did he look?" inquired I; "in pretty good condition?"

My companion shook his head. "He's going down hill," he replied, "a going down hill fast. He was dressed like a swell, as usual; but his coat was almost threadbare, and his hat had been brushed till there was more felt than nap left. The life he's led begins to tell upon him; he looks worn and haggard-more of the blackguard, and less of the gentleman; his head is a regular bush of black hair and whiskers. He is precious hard-up, too," he continued, sinking his voice. "When he'd finished his dinner, he sent for me-Here, landlord, take this note, pay yourself, and bring me the change.' The note was for £50. Knowing my customer, I looked at it as I shouldn't at any other man's money, and soon made up my mind that it was a flash note, not worth a sixpence; so I handed it back to him. 'I tell you what it is, Mr. Burrell,' said I, 'we're old acquaintances, and it don't become you to give me a thing like that. Now, listen

to me: I know more about you than you're aware of; pay me for the dinner you've eaten, in honest money, and then take yourself off as soon as you can; for I swear to you, if you're found in this town to-morrow morning, I'll give you into custody, as sure as you're a living man, and you best know how that will suit you.''

"How did he like that?" inquired I.

'Well, he didn't seem particularly to relish it," replied the innkeeper; "he turned first red, then pale, forked out a guinea, and, when I had given him the change, pulled his hat over his brows, and left the house without another word. One of the helpers tells me he saw him leave Portsmouth by the next coach."

"And a good thing, too," was my answer; "the town is well rid of such a scoundrel."

To which assertion mine host responded by a secular equivalent for "Amen ;" and so the conversation ended.

Reader, from that moment up to the present time, I have neither seen nor heard tidings of Charles Burrell; but as this history of The Marrying Man is a fact, not a fiction; as I am certainly alive, and have no reason to suppose Burrell otherwise, if I ever encounter him again, upon the honour of a gentleman, the readers of "SHARPE” shall hear of it.

WE have seen the disgraceful and tyrannical mode of prison administration in the Eternal City, and the Papal States in general, under their priestly governors, and we are glad to turn from so painful a subject of consideration; but, before we quit it, we must be allowed to express our abhorrence of the extreme severity-nay, the unjustifiable cruelty -of most of the sentences passed upon the unfortunate subjects of Pio Nono, by his clerical agents, in the form of lengthened incarceration, inhuman bastinadoes, condemnation to the galleys, and even to death; often for offences of so trivial a nature, that a slight fine, or short imprisonment, would be deemed ample expiation for them by any tribunal that had no other object in view than the upholding of the law, and the just and reasonable punishment of the transgressor of it, in a

* Continued from page 240.

degree not exceeding the nature of the transgression. We will not load our pages with the number of revolting instances we might give in illustration of our remarks: one or two will suffice to vindicate us in them, and to excite the sympathy of our readers.

In the spring of last year, many of the inhabitants of the Lombard-Venetian kingdom, justly incensed against the despotism of Austrian sway, resolved to show their indignation, by renouncing their favourite enjoyment of smoking, or using tobacco in any form whatever; in order that their sentiments might be made manifest in the diminution of that part of the revenue which is derived from the monopoly, by government, of the sale of "the fragrant weed." So rapidly did this self-denial spread throughout the Lombard States, and thence to Tuscany and the Roman States, that, at Bologna alone, there was soon found a deficit of six thousand dollars on the average

sale of tobacco; in consequence of which, the Austrian marshal, Count Nobile, published a notice, wherein he stated that some persons in the provinces occupied by the imperial troops, had dared to offer violence to peaceable citizens, by hindering them from using tobacco; but he, being resolved not to tolerate this infraction of personal liberty! was resolved to suppress it by every means in his power; and, accordingly, he subjected to corporal punishment, and afterwards to trial by court-martial, all such persons as should be accused of having used argument or intimidation towards those who were inclined to follow their wonted habit of inhaling the article in question.

Many respectable inhabitants of Bologna were actually bastinadoed, and thrown into prison, after this proclamation, on the information of hired spies, or malicious enemies. Nevertheless, the manifestation of political opinion went forth, wider and wider; it was taken up by Romagna, and La Marca, and finally by the capital itself, exceedingly to the annoyance of Prince Torlonia, who, being the farmer of the monopoly of tobacco, quickly found a diminution in his revenue from it, proportionate to the reduction in the consumption, which was soon less by two-thirds than the usual quantity.

At first, the government sought to revive the fashion, by liberally supplying with cigars not only the soldiers, but also the police and the spies, in short, the very dregs of the population; but in this they rather overshot their mark, as many of the moderates, and even of the ultra oscuranti, threw away their own cigars in consequence, in order not to be mixed up with such a disreputable throng; till, at last, scarcely a cigar was to be seen in the streets or cafés, save in the mouths of the classes we have mentioned, or of some stray foreigners.

More and more irritated, the government had recourse to more and more stringent measures. Informers were multiplied, and many an unjust imprisonment took place in conscquence. One day, Pietro Ercoli, a young man of respectable connections, and blameless character, was dining socially, at a trattoria, with a friend, who, at the conclusion of the repast, proceeded, as in days of old, to light his cigar. Ercoli remonstrated with him, playfully, as it appeared to the landlord-certainly without any attempt to constrain him—and the young man laid it aside; but the dissuasive words had been caught up, the relinquishment of the cigar observed, by one of the base spies, who at once embitter and corrupt Italian society, and

Ercoli was arrested on the spot, and dragged to prison; but was so brutally beaten over the head, on the way, by the sbirri, that it was thought he could not survive, and extreme unction was administered to him in his cell. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to be tried, he was so, by the tribunal of the Sacra Consulta, and sentenced, by the five reverend prelates who compose it, after they had solemnly, as the form of their proceeding requires and specifies, "invoked the most holy name of God," to twenty years of the galleys!!-the same term as was awarded to a wretch, a short time before, who had murdered his wife in the very arms of her father.

The master of the trattoria in vain gave his honest testimony, that no force was used by Ercoli towards his companion, and no arguments beyond those of raillery: he only brought upon himself an action for perjury, by the government procureur-general, with the threat of the galleys for life, and the unfortunate Ercoli died of despair, in the dungeons of Narni, in the flower of his age, shortly after his removal thither.

Many instances not less tragical we might adduce; but, even where these did not occur, the barbarous injustice of the sentences for venial transgressions, and frequently upon accusations not proved, are not less odious. Four young Romans were condemned to twenty years' imprisonment, for burning Bengal lights, on the anniversary of the proclamation of the republic at the Capitol; and it was made a great favour that the punishment was commuted into perpetual banishment. A poor wheelwright, who had purchased from some person of his own rank in life, a few iron tires, which had been taken off Cardinal Barberini's carriage during the republic, waited upon his Eminence, on his return to Rome, in order to restore the tires, leaving it to the cardinal's generosity to repay or not, as he pleased, the sum paid for them. The cardinal, in return for this respectful submission, immediately denounced the unfortunate wheelwright to the police, by whom he was dragged to prison, where he will languish until his final sentence may be pronounced.

Dr. Pio, an army surgeon, an elderly man, delicate in constitution, was sentenced to thirty months' imprisonment, for the crime of sleeping in the Pamphili Palace, in the Piazza Navona, the residence of Cardinal Brignole, on a mattress, in the ante-chamber appropriated to the domestics, after the battle of the 30th of April; his regiment bivouacking in the piazza, and he himself being desirous, on account of

the state of his health, to avoid passing the night in the open air. He was sent to prison by a man of the name of Neri, of notoriously profligate character, a priest in his Eminence's train, and who was well known for the malignity and falsehood of his accusations of any of the liberal party whose ruin he might hope to effect.

The suborning of evidence, indeed, and the utter worthlessness, and known depravity of persons whose testimony is often received in matters touching the life or death of the parties accused, though it would have been rejected at once in any case of doubt in a pecuniary transaction, even though only a few baiocchi might be concerned, is one of the most dreadful evils that any one who has ever advocated the cause of liberty has to contend with in the Papal States. At Fabriano, towards the close of the last year, three young men, of good family in that city-one a student in medicine, the other two in the law-were beheaded, on the oath of a reprobate wretch, who swore that, during the revolution, they had hired him to assassinate a priest and his brother. He stated that, when he fell in with his intended victims, he fired, but, purposely, in the air. It was, however, proved, that he had only one pistol and one bullet; therefore how he intended to "kill two birds with one stone," it would have been difficult for him to explain to the satisfaction of an English jury. Nevertheless, on the single, unsupported assertion of a villain like this, the young men were publicly executed, to the heart-rending grief of their parents, and the horror and indignation of their fellowcitizens; whilst their real murderer, the pretended conscience-stricken bravo, walked the streets of Fabriano arm-in-arm with his friend the priest, exulting in the success of their infernal plot to get rid of three young men of principles opposite to their own.

How many instances, alas! would the last three years' annals of Rome furnish us with of similar victims sacrificed by falsehood and despotism; whilst, on the other hand, almost as many might be adduced of the most misplaced lenity and unjust connivance, with respect to parties who, whatever other enormities they might have been guilty of, had avoided the imprudence of questioning the authority of Holy Mother Church, particularly as far as her power of pardoning other sins might be concerned. Of this we will give only one example, which shall be of a somewhat lighter nature, in order to relieve the darker feelings with which the instance of unjust condemnation to death we have cited above must be contemplated.

Shortly after the restoration of the clerical

régime, a profound and painful sensation was produced in the learned and archæological world, by the discovery that the Vatican had been plundered of a great number of gold coins, many of them of the utmost rarity, and unappreciable value; and also of gems, scarabei, and other articles of vertu, to an enormous amount. Of course the guilt of the transaction was immediately laid to the charge of the republican authorities; but, fortunately for the vindication of their honour, and for the cause of truth, the real delinquent was discovered, by a judicial inquiry, the result of which could not be hushed up, to be a certain Signor Diamilla, a devoted slave to the Neri party, and a favoured protégé of Cardinal Lambruschini, to whose influence he owed the official and confidential situation he held as under-keeper in the library of the Vatican. Among the few benefits which Popes have conferred upon society at large, must always be reckoned as one of the chiefest, if not the chief, the treasures in learning and the arts, accumulated, by their taste and generosity, beneath that one vast roof which shelters so many wonders of the world, for the benefit of the world at large. Just and laudable is the pride with which each Pope that ascends the apostolic chair contemplates the exertions made by his predecessors towards the increasing the wealth of this unrivalled collection; and noble the ambition which prompts him to equal, if not to excel them. Hence, a crime against the Vatican is felt by the pontiff as a crime against his own person; and Diamilla, fully convicted of one of so deep and disgraceful a dye, was condemned, notwithstanding the protection of the purple, to twenty years of the galleys a punishment incurred, as we have already shown, for the most trifling offences, by those who had no such protection to boast.

Diamilla, however, was not disheartened at the prospect before him, for his father is chief bussolante, or usher, at the Papal court, and expressed his belief that, as his son was not accused of any political or religious offence, every other might be got over, with time and proper influence.

Meanwhile, Monsignor Laureani, the head librarian, and a man of acknowledged merit, died of grief for the loss the Vatican had sustained; that grief heightened by the charge of negligence brought against him, and of which, perhaps, he could not entirely acquit himself, in not having kept a more vigilant look-out upon his assistants. The father's confidence proved his knowledge of those with whom he had to deal. Diamilla, probably acting from parental instruction, devoted himself, from the

first day of his imprisonment in the castle of St. Angelo, to such measures as might restore him to the favour he had so justly forfeited: and he succeeded. He began by turning spy upon his fellow-prisoners, eliciting their sentiments, and reporting their conversations. He then proceeded to eulogise the Papacy, in certain articles which he contrived to get inserted in the government journals. Need anything more be said? He was pardoned, set at liberty, provided with a passport to Paris, and not only had his arrears of salary, amounting to four hundred scudi, paid up to him, but was also presented with six hundred more, in order to enable him to travel with comfort. At that very time, the poor postilions, and others who lived upon their individual earnings, could not get from the government the arrears due to them.

The police, and custom-house officers, sympathizing, no doubt, in the compassionate feelings thus evinced in the highest quarters towards the delinquent, were likewise seized with such feelings of delicacy, as to forbear any scrutinizing search into his baggage, which might have interfered with his carrying off with him, as he did, the great remaining portion of his plunder; which success, however, ultimately brought upon him the very punishment he had before evaded; for, being imprudent, and, we may add, impudent enough, on his arrival in Paris, to offer some very rare scarabei to the director of the National Museum, for sale, he very naturally mentioned the occurrence to the Papal nuncio, who as naturally coupled it in his own mind with the disappearance of said scarabei from the Vatican; and, he and the director laying their conclusions together, they finally resolved to hand the curiosity-seller over to the care of the police, by whom he was transferred to the "durance vile" he so justly deserved, and to his continuance in which we could very easily reconcile ourselves.

We must be allowed yet another word as to the hardships under which the subjects of his Holiness labour. The administration of the interior is entirely in the hands of Savelli, of whose eminent disqualifications we have al ready made honourable mention, and weighs so heavily upon the citizens as to destroy entirely all freedom of action-nay, too often, all freedom of thought! A Papal subject cannot travel from one part of the States to another without a passport, and numerous signatures. Should his affairs call him abroad, he is obliged to obtain the consent of his wife, that of the curate of the parish, who grants it or not, according as the applicant may have

been punctual, or otherwise, in presenting himself at the confessional, at Easter; and that of the president, or magistrate of the parish, who requires him to bring a certificate from two citizens, stating that he conducted himself properly during the past revolution. Then comes the prefect of police, then the minister of the interior, then the secretary of state, all to be supplicated, propitiated, and often bribed, before an honest man finds himself at liberty to go where his business may require him. It may be easily imagined what endless annoyance and hindrance all these obstacles create to the industry and commerce of the country. Frequently a passport is refused on the most trifling and unjust pretences. One of the most respectable tradesmen in Rome, as well known to the English visitors and residents there as to his own townsmen, but whose name we will not mention, for fear of exposing him to further persecution, has just now, after having made all the arrangements for his journey, been refused a passport to this country, on a matter connected with his business, and which would have been very desirable to the public, because it was suddenly recollected that he had had copies of the Diodati Bible in his possession, during that brief period when men, under the liberty of the republic, were allowed to inquire into sacred things, and form their own opinions, according to the dictates of their conscience. Perhaps, however, it was better for this person that his passport should have been at once openly refused, than treacherously granted, as has frequently been the case, in order to withhold permission to return. Nor is it only with respect to liberty to go from one place to another that the Roman subject is fettered: the most laudable pursuits, the most innocent recreations, are equally liable to arbitrary and inconsistent control. No scientific meetings are allowed to take place without leave from government; no social ones can be held without exposing the parties that constitute them to suspicion and espionage. It is unlawful to bear arms, even for self-defence; to go out shooting; to receive newspapers, save those that are the tools of government; to do anything, in short, without so many previous forms to go through, and permissions to obtain, that the laws and their executors are equally detested and execrated.

The restored government has sedulously given out that it has supplied the place of central liberty by extended municipal privileges; but with that government, where

"All is false and hollow,”