The Express.
London, England, 1851-02-01 00:00:00

THE EXPRESS, SATURDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 1, 1851.

PRIESTS, WOMEN, AND FAMILIES.

"Yet, sir, it was here. On this identical chair she was
seated. It was on a summer evening, the thirteenth of July,
five years ago. The hide beyond the river were purpled
by the beams of the sun setting behind. These lawns and
shrubs, and yonder wave bathed in the rich tints of this same
' primula eley. The spires of the town glittered after off,
shove the foliage of the grove ; all earth wee silent, even so a
bride awed by the approach of the wedding night.
" Marina sat languidly in her chair, and 1, fond foul,
knelt at her feet.

"There had been. yon may imagine, a deal of trash and
nonsense spoken on both side.. We were old acknowledged
lovers, and her mother's consent was not wanting.
"A golden cro.a hank by a black ribbon round her neck.
Marina was as pious as she was gentle--purer, holier than
the angels of light.
. .

" Sh; took doe crass from her bosom, kiesed it; then she
passed It over my head, and her lips, quivering with love and
devotion, rested on mine.

It was more than betrothment—it wu a sacrament. The
symbol of salvation wu given as a pledge of love.
Three days later Marin was forsworn. Three months
later, Costantino Anfoui led her to the altar.
. .

POor Marina! and she sleeps undisturbed ! She bargained
with the priest; made her peace, as she fancied, with God.
She tonfemsd—took the sacrament on the eve of her wedding.
Father Damian, the Jesuit, absAved her, called down
lisaven's blessing on her.
. _

The shallow hypocrite! as if the Devil could not see
through a sophism. Repentance! remission ! and is repara-
tion forgotten ? You open and close Heaven's gates—you
fiends! And this long hour of anguish that tore my heat
fibre from fibre, that unseated my reason, that robbed me of
God's own blessed air and light, and levelled me with the
brutes—will God overlook that!

Father Damian°, the meddling, scheming villain!
Not two hours ago 1 had my hand on his throat.
Ha, ha, ha! wee is safe from the maniac's gripe ? I
glided into the cloister, stood on the door of his eel', by his
bedside.

He also slept. They all sleep! My eyes alone never close
—dry, fiery, throbbing incessantly!
Damian, the cowled pander! And his worie were holy
writ both with mother and daughter :—`. Beware of free
thinkers, abandoned libertines, never seen at masa,
kneeling to the confessional! Costantina Aufosei is pions
and meek Submissive, timorous. What avail loftiness of
genius and daring of heart 7—too often the mere glare of the
firebrand of hell!"

Well spoken, Sir Priest! Be it even according unto
your will ;—anct the the meek, lowly youth is promoted into
the seventh heaven of bliu—Muin*'e bosom—and the fire-
brand is cast into Bedlam!

The needy, puny, sneakiog adventurer! The Jt suit's
own darling, AoWeu. Father confessor thrusts his own
creature into the good graces of mother and daughter. Make
room for the pet lamb—the pet lamb of the church! Roma
in your house and home, old lady ! Room in your heart and
arms, young one !—Lard of all he surreys! The humble
shall be exalted _ .

Be ft AO. Damian—AnZ
not my vengeance on them.

below contempt. I stain

There are few passages in this volume in which
Signor Mariotti has chosen to express a direct and
personal opinion upon mere events; one of these ie
an appreciation of the characters of two men, each of
whom has attracted a lage share of public attention.