A Colonel who fought for France in the days of her triumph--a pupil of that revolutionary school which gave its best moral lesson in its downfall--presented himself at the house of the Priest who held the sacerdotal command of the town in which the _militaire_ was quartered, and informed him that he was desirous of entering into the married state next day; adding, that he wished to give his reverence the preference in the performance of the ceremony. _Monsieur le Prêtre_ bowed, and thanked the Colonel for the honour conferred upon him, and the hour was appointed for the marriage. The Colonel, not aware that anything more was officially required of him, than to present himself with his intended _cara esposa_, before the altar on the following day, was about to take his leave, when the Priest informed him that he must confess before he could be eligible to the dignity of wearing the matrimonial collar.--Only fancy a tall, bony, mustachioed Colonel of French Infantry, about forty-five years of age--a sort of half devil, half republican,--with ear-rings and bald temples--a ruddy brown face, that spoke of many a hot sun and strong vintage--with an eye like Mars, and an air like Robin Hood:--only fancy such a man called upon by a Priest, to kneel down and confess his sins in an audible voice, that he might be qualified to enter into the holy state of marriage;--and then fancy his gaze of astonishment at the holy man’s summons! For such a rough personage as this was the Colonel;--a fellow who, during his military life, had little to do with priests, except to lay them under contribution, and knew no more about the merits of confession than he did about the Evidences of Christianity, or the Decalogue itself. “_Sacre!_” replied the Colonel; “What’s the meaning of this? Confession! what have I to do with confession?” The Priest, who was a man as liberal as might be, consistent with his office, informed the Colonel that by a late law, no marriage could be celebrated in France between Catholics, unless the parties had first obtained a certificate of confession; but gave him to understand that he would make it easy to him. “_Eh bien!_--very well, very well,” said the Colonel; “but what am I to do?” “Very little, very little. Merely sit down, and tell me what sins you have committed in your life-time.” “_Parbleu!_” replied the Colonel; “How am I to do that? I don’t know that I ever did any great harm.” “Well then,” returned the Priest, “merely speak to the best of your recollection.” Here he gave the Colonel his benediction. “I never injured any one in my life--except, perhaps, running a few dozen Prussians and Spaniards through the body.--I have killed a few Englishmen too.” “_Ce n’est rien!_ that’s nothing.” “I assisted in pillaging several towns, and burnt one or two villages.” “_Ce n’est rien!_ that’s nothing at all.” “I have sometimes had an affair with the ladies.”