The Art of Matchmaking: How To Make a Match

Mr. Weston would never marry again.

Pish posh!

Emma had witnessed a fondness between him and Miss Taylor ever since the day their paths crossed on Broadway-lane. Upon returning from their wedding, Emma boasts to her father and Mr. Knightley of how she “planned the match from that hour.”

“Where is your merit?” Mr. Knightley asks. “What are you proud of? You made a lucky guess; and that is all that can be said.”

“A lucky guess is never merely luck. There is always some talent in it. If I had not promoted Mr. Weston’s visits here, and given many little encouragements, and smoothed many little matters, it might not have come to any thing after all.”

This installment of The Art of Matchmaking provides a guide to the talent of how to make a match. 

The Art of Matchmaking: Traits of a Successful Matchmaker

Not all matches are made in heaven.

Some are made in Hartfield, by Jane Austen’s Emma.

This first installment of The Art of Matchmaking explores the best traits when taking “so active a part in bringing any two people together.” A portion of these qualities is exemplified by the meddlesome heroine. But, of course, not all. . .

Divinely Beautiful Names For Your Cat or Kids If You Love “Anne of Green Gables”

Cordelia of Green Gables.

Imagine if Marilla had indulged her young charge of such a fancy. Anne with an “e,” might never have come to be. At least, not in today’s iconic capacity.

And what a shame that would have been since Anne fits her “to a T. Or should [it] be E?” says the Anne of Green Gable’s Blog in its post What’s In A Name?

Names matter a great deal. Knowing this to be true, it’s no wonder our heroine said, “I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.”

Which divinely beautiful name will you choose?

True Wedding Night Stories from the Victorian Boudoir

“Lie back and think of England” was the prominent mindset of many Victorian brides.

Either they heard whispered horrors from elders or knew next to nothing — in some cases, both. Wives who delighted in the unspeakable act undoubtedly would have felt shamed admitting such. For it was not meant to be enjoyed by women.

Accessible marriage manuals for young husbands and for young wives lacked instruction, used confusing metaphors, or failed to address consummation at all.

To better understand Victorians and sex, a set of letters and diaries reveal their propriety and perspective of what happens in the boudoir.