Among the singular customs of our forefathers, arising in a great measure from their indifference to decorum, one of the most remarkable was matrimony, solemnised, we were going to say, but the fittest word would be "performed," by the parsons in the Fleet prison, to which reference has already frequently been made. These clerical functionaries were disreputable and dissolute men, mostly prisoners for debt, who, to the great injury of public morals, dared to insult the dignity of their holy profession by marrying in the precincts of the Fleet prison, at a minute's notice, any persons who might present themselves for that purpose. No questions were asked, no stipulations made, except as to the amount of the fee for the service, or the quantity of liquor to be drunk on the occasion. It not unfrequently happened, indeed, that the clergyman, the clerk, the bride groom and the bride, were drunk at the very time the ceremony was performed. These disgraceful members of the sacred calling had their "plyers," or "barkers," who, if they caught sight of a man and woman walking together along the streets of the neighbourhood, pestered them as the Jew clothesmen in the present day tease the passers-by in Holywell Street, with solicitations, not easily to be shaken off, as to whether they wanted a clergyman to marry them. Mr. Burn, a gentleman who has recently published a curious work on the Fleet Registers, says he has in his possession an engraving (published about 1747) of "A Fleet Wedding between a brisk young Sailor and Landlady's daughter at Rederiff." "The print," he adds, "represents the old Fleet market and prison, with the sailor, landlady, and daughter, just stepping from a hackney-coach, while two Fleet parsons in canonicals are contending for the job. The following verses are in the margin: "Scarce had the coach discharg'd its trusty fare, But gaping crowds surround th' amorous pair; The busy Plyers make a mighty stir, And whisp'ring cry, D'ye want the Parson, Sir? Pray step this way--just to the Pen in Hand, The Doctor's ready there at your command: This way (another cries), Sir, I declare, The true and ancient Register is here: "Th' alarmed Parsons quickly hear the din, And haste with soothing words t' invite 'em in: In this confusion jostled to and fro, Th' inamour'd couple know not where to go, Till, slow advancing from the coach's side, Th' experienc'd matron came, (an artful guide,) She led the way without regarding either, And the first Parson splic'd 'em both together."