The Express.
London, England, 1863-03-10 00:00:00

LONDON, TUESDAY, MARCH 10.

SURELY this is the most genial and joyous
Wedding-day ever known in our Merry England.
Some of the clergy, with the Dean of DROMORI
at their head, have hit upon the most charming
way of commemorating the day. They have, 1
after timely notice, devoted themselves to marry, '
without fee, as many couples as shall have quali-
fied themselves. This is delightful. No doubt ,
there are many of the richer classes who have
chosen to marry on the same morning as our
young Paulo% and. it is pleasant to think of B 3
many of the poorer class who will share in the
honour and satiafaction of entering on the marriage
stake on the day which will mark a period in the
history of England. For generations to come it
will be boasted of as a family honour, and felt to
be a loyal tie that the Son and Heir of England
and his future subjects, some lofty and some lowly,
entered together on the happiness of marriage.
When we think of it, we seem to hear the wedding
I peals ringing out merrily all over the kingdom.
Let the nation rejoice that, however many
and however various the weddings of to-day may
be, no one can be more thoroughly blessed than
that which will be celebrated at Windsor. It is a
great thing when, in the humblest rank of life,
and in the middle class, where there is the most
freedom of heart and mind, • marriage satisfies
and pleases everybody ; when the young people
are thoroughly suited to each other, and the elders
on both sides the house are cordially assenting,
and no cloud is seen to dim the marriage sun-
shine ; but it is more than this—it is a most rare
blessing when the marriage of a Prince, who will
be a ruler, is thus perfect and full of promise.
To-day we witness such an union ; and
every subject of our QUILIN is sensible of it.
It is one of the choice occasions in human
life in which rejoicing is absolutely pure. All
hearis may beat high to-day; for the moat timid
can feel no chill of dread, and the most scrupulous
can perceive nothing to object to. Youth, health,
beauty, and fortune grace some of our English
weddings every year ; but it is seldom that there
is no one concerned who does not feel or fancy
some cause of discontent, reasonable or unreason-
able ; but in this case, though the marriage les
within the region of policy, often so cold and hard,
all is as warm and natural and genial as at any
village wedding, while the amount of sympathy,
of blessing, and of prayers is beyond all precedent.
Besides the affectionate and gratified parents, and
the delighted brothers and sisters, there are the
people of a wide empire, from the counsellors of
the Crown to the street-sweeper in the towns, and
the ploughman in the country, and the shepherd
on colonial prairies, who are merry at heart to-
day. All over the Quideit's vast empire there are
the sights and sounds of joy. In all lands there
will be fires on the hilltops to-night ; wherever there
is a church there are wedding-peals ringing this morn-
ing. Wherever there are neighbours, they are meeting
in festival mood ; and mothers are carrying their
little children to hear the music, and will keep
them up to-night to see the bonfires, in hope that
they will remember as long as they live this great
wedding-day. Even in colonial forests, where the
pioneer household see no human face for months
together, this will be a white day. Men will put
away their tools for once, on a week-day ; and
mothers and daughters will contrive some sort of
feast ; and all the happy weddings they know of,
and all the anecdotes of our Royal Family that
they have ever heard, will be talked over once
more. In remote Indian stations the solitary
Englishman will explain to his Hindoo neighbours
who this young bride and bridegroom are, and
why their marriage is so interesting to all the
world. It is something that their health, will be
drunk at every royal table in Europe ; but it is
more impressive to consider that blessings will be
prayed for in all the tongues, and according to the
modes of all the faiths known within the bounds
of an empire on which the sun never sets.