consequence of false publication might not have been
of great moment, but we take it to be otherwise
now. Do we not (lawyers included) know that
Phyllis is very prone to yield to the suggestion
of Corydon in that tender billing and cooing
season before the banns are published? Suppose,
then, that as they sit under the trysting-tree,
when the deepening twilight, &c., and the sweet
dalliance of the balmy breeze, &c. — suppose that
Corydon at that season should suggest to Phyllis
dear, for any reason in the world (she wouldn't
probe the logic of it very deeply), that the banns
should be published in any other name than his,
would Phyllis always be found courageously to
answer No? And suppose, further, that Corydon
should ever come (alas for the possibility of
such things!) to grow weary of Phyllis dear,
would it not be rather hard upon the damsel
that her foolish weakness in the twilight, should
prove her undoing in her later married life? We
really think it would.

So far banns; but, as our illustrative man was
married by license, it behoves us to speak a word
or two as to that ceremony.

Now, as to banns and licenses, "note a
diversitie." If a license be obtained under false
names, and the marriage be solemnised thereupon,
the marriage is good; but, it is otherwise
(as we have shown) with a marriage celebrated
after banns have been published in a wrong
name. The reason of this distinction is
sufficiently obvious.

The very object to be gained by publication of
the banns being publicity, this purpose, should
the publication be made in false names, is utterly
defeated. On the other hand, a license not
being a matter of public notoriety, is granted by
the ordinary upon such evidence as he may be
content to receive.

A rather curious case illustrative of the
stability of a marriage by license, though
celebrated under a false name, was heard before Sir
William Scott (afterwards Lord Stowell):

A woman, named Sarah Burt, endowed with
a dreadful partiality for aliases, left her father's
house in the year 1781, and went to reside with
her sister: assuming the name of Sarah Melville,
and stating that she was a widow. Seven years
afterwards, she left her sister, and went to live
alone: styling herself, by way of variety, Elizabeth
Melville. Under this name, she was married;
but the third change was not a happy one, and
her husband endeavoured to set aside the
marriage. Sir William Scott, however, entertained
the opinion that the marriage could not be set
aside, and he acted upon it. Marriage by license,
therefore, we see, is valid even if the license
have been obtained in a false name: "provided
always," says my Lord Ellenborough, "that the
false name be not intended to cover a fraud on
the other party."

In mentioning that our illustrative man might
have employed other means to attain his present
felicity of a more plebeian character, we ought
to have remembered one more aristocratic. There
is "special license." Not thinking it necessary,
however, to dilate upon this part of our subject,
we will content ourselves by stating that this is a
delightful and rather costly prerogative, granted
by the Archbishop of Canterbury, which will
enable anybody to be married anywhere and at
any time, and which any of our readers can
obtain on application to his lordship, and the
enclosure of a negotiable cheque.

To return, however, to the consideration of
the plebeian paths to matrimony before alluded
to, we are reminded of the Registrar. Had our
illustrative man been content to adopt this
humble method of arriving at the holy estate,
he would have found it burdened with the
following conditions; a solemn declaration from
him that no impediment existed to his intended
marriage; that (should he desire to be married
without license) he and his intended wife had
resided for seven days within the district of the
Registrar, or (if with license) that one of them
had lived for fifteen days within the same
district; that, should either of the parties be under
age, proper consent to the marriage had been
obtained; and all this in the presence of the
Registrar, and under all the penalties (should
any false statement be made) attached to
perjury.

No person having objected to the Registrar
issuing his certificate, our illustrative candidate
for matrimony would have been furnished by
that functionary with the important document,
sooner or later, according to circumstances. If
he were about to be married without license, he
would have obtained it twenty-one days after
he had given notice of his intention; if with
license, it would have been granted to him at
any time after one day had passed. Once
furnished with this passport, his difficulties would
have been at an end, and the marriage could be
solemnised at any time, either according to the
rites of the Church of England, or of the Jews,
or of the Quakers.

Should it unfortunately happen that our
friend's faith was not the faith of Churchman,
Jew, or Quaker, the marriage would have
to be solemnised in a licensed building in the
presence of the Registrar, but with whatever
ceremony Mr. Blank might choose to elect.

Always provided, however, that during the
ceremony, whatever it might be, he and his
intended wife should declare that they knew of
no impediment to the marriage, and that he or
she called upon the persons present to witness
that he or she took the other party for her
wedded husband or wife, as the case might be.

With this brief glance at a few of the more
notable characteristics of marriage by license,
by banns, by special license (a very brief glance
indeed at this), and by the Registrar, let us
endeavour to furnish our readers with an epitome
of matrimonial law in general. In common
with all other laws, it has been subject at times
to gross abuse, and in no instance to greater
abuse than in the case of the notorious Fleet
marriages.

"Prior to the middle of the last century,"
says Mr. M'Queen in his treatise on Marriage
and Divorce, "there was in the Fleet Prison a