There is perhaps more to be said for it than that. Indeed, if I
were ever to get married, I am at a loss to know which way I
should choose,--George Muncaster's way or the old merry fashion,
with the rice and the old shoes and the orange-blossom. No doubt
the old cheery publicity is a little embarrassing to the two most
concerned, and the old marriage customs, the singing of the bride
and bridegroom to their nuptial couch, the frank jests, the
country horse-play, must have fretted the souls of many a lover
before Shelley, who, it will be remembered, resented the choral
celebrations of his Scotch landlord and friends by appearing at
his bedroom door with a brace of pistols.

How like Shelley! The Scotch landlord meant well, we may be
sure, and a very small pinch of humour, or even mere ordinary
humanity, as distinct from humanitarianism, would have taken in
the situation. Of course Shelley's mind was full of the sanctity
of the moment, and indignant that "the hour for which the years
did sigh" should thus be broken in upon by vulgar revelry; but
while we may sympathise with his view, and admit to the full the
sacredness, not to say the solemnity, of the marriage ceremony,
yet it is to be hoped that it still retains a naturally mirthful
side, of which such public merriment is but the crude expression.

With all its sweet and mystical significance, surely the
prevailing feeling in the hearts of bride and bridegroom is, or
should be, that of happiness,--happiness bubbling and dancing,
all sunny ripples from heart to heart.

Surely they can spare a little of it, just one day's sight of it,
to a less happy world,--a world long since married and done for,