Nature and Culture

by Harvey Rice

The first marriage of which we have any account took place in a garden, without the usual preliminaries and ceremonies which have marked its solemnization in subsequent periods of the world's history; yet we must believe that it was the most august and sublime wedding that ever occurred. The witnesses of the ceremony were none other than the angels of God. Nature presented her choicest flowers, and the birds of Paradise sang the bridal hymn, while earth and sky rejoiced in the consummation of the "first match made in heaven."

It may be presumed, perhaps, that all matches are made in heaven; yet somehow or other, sad mistakes occur when least expected. Even our first parents, though placed in a garden of innocence, encountered a serpent in their pathway. It need not seem very strange, therefore, that "the course of true love never did run smooth." Yet there are but few who would not concur with Tennyson in thinking—

"'Tis better to have loved and lost,

Than never to have loved at all."

In affairs of the heart there is no such thing as accounting for the freaks of fancy, or the choice of dissimilar tastes. Singular as it may be, most people admire contrasts. In other words, like prefers unlike; the tall prefer the short; the beautiful the unbeautiful; and the perverse the reverse. In this way Nature makes up her counterparts with a view to assimilate her materials and bring harmony out of discord. It is from accords and discords that we judge of music and determine its degree of excellence. In wedded life even discords have their uses, since a family jar now and then is often attended with the happiest results, by bringing into timely exercise a higher degree of mutual forbearance, and inspiring the heart with a purer, sincerer, and diviner appreciation of the "silken tie."

There is no topic, perhaps, of deeper interest to a woman than that of wedlock. It is an event, when it does occur, which brightens or blasts forever her fondest hopes and her purest affections. The matrimonial question is therefore the great question of a woman's life. In deciding it, she takes a risk which determines the future of her heart-life. When the motive is stamped with the imperial seal of Heaven, it is certain the heart will recognize it as genuine, and trust in it. The language of love speaks for itself, sometimes in mysteries, sometimes in revelations. It is a telegraphic language which every woman understands, though written in hieroglyphics. Hence the preliminaries to wedlock, usually called courtships, are as various in their methods as the whims of the parties. In many parts of the world these methods are as amusing as they are singular.

In royal families matrimonial alliances are controlled by State policy, and the negotiations conducted through the agencies of ministerial confidants. In some Oriental countries, parents contract their sons and daughters in marriage while yet in their infancy, nor allow the parties an interview until of marriageable age, when the wedding ceremonies are performed, and the happy pair unveiled to behold each other for the first time. At such a moment "a penny for their thoughts" would be cheap enough. The philosophy of this absurd custom seems to be based on the classical idea that "love is blind." This may be true; yet blind though it be, the heart will always have its preference, and contrive some way or other to express it.

In some of the Molucca Islands, when a young man is too bashful to speak his love, he seizes the first opportunity that offers of sitting near the object of his affection, and tying his garments to hers. If she allows him to finish the knot, and neither cuts nor loosens it, she truly gives her consent to the marriage. If she merely loosens it, he is at liberty to try his luck again at a more propitious moment; but if she cuts the knot, there is an end of hope.

In Lapland it is death to marry a girl without the consent of her friends. When a young man proposes marriage, the friends of both parties meet to witness a race between them. The girl is allowed, at starting, the advantage of a third part of the race; if her lover does not overtake her, it is a penal offence for him ever to renew his offers of marriage. If the damsel favors his suit, she may run fast at first, to try his affection; but she will be sure to linger before she comes to the end of the race. In this way all marriages are made in accordance with inclination; and this is the probable reason of so much domestic contentment in that country.

In ancient times marriageable women were the subjects of bargain and sale, and were more generally obtained by purchase than courtship. The prices paid in some instances seem incredible, if not extortionate. Of course, "pearls of great price" were not to be had for the mere asking. Jacob purchased his wife, Rachel, at a cost of fourteen years hard labor.