Such is the comprehensive announcement that meets the eye at the end of the newspaper items which ladies find so interesting, under the head of "Married". The phrase "no cards" may be interpreted as follows, according to the N. Y. Journal of Commerce
Owing to the hard times and the high price of stationery, the happy couple herein named have concluded to dispense with the custom of sending cards to their innumerable friends.
They trust that the virtue of economy will be duly appreciated, when coal is nine dollars per ten, and the other expenses of housekeeping are in proportion, and all going up. The happy couple hope that this explanation will prove satisfactory; but, should it cause the loss of anybody's friendship, they will try to survive the affliction." Something to this effect, we say, was the original idea of that inventive and intrepid young couple who dared to break over a venerable conventionalism, and put "no cards" at the end of their advertised felicity.
It is imitated by others — not for all these grave reasons, perhaps, but because it has become a recognized and approved (if not yet universally adopted) fashion.
Not often is it that economy dictates the fashions.
That it has done so, in this case, is a proof of that beautiful magnanimity with which the unmarried portion of the fair sex adapt themselves to those trying circumstances in our national history, and take from the dilatory lover his last weak excuse of "too poor; guess I'll wait till the war is over." When the war is over the ladies may conclude to recede from this liberty proposition, and insist on their time honored privilege of scattering showers of pasteboard over the country.
Now is the time to make up matrimonial arrangements cheap; for the same self-sacrificing spirit that consents to "no cards" may possibly agree to other economical modifications of the grand budget of wedding expenses.
But that is a delicate point, upon which we are not now authorized to make a statement, and we must refer anxious inquiries to the only sources where they can be correctly informed, viz: the ladies — in whose opinion of the case they are interested.
This partially discarded custom of sending cards was a very pretty custom.
It was pleasant to receive occasionally those double envelopes and that excess of pasteboard, tied with the emblematical silken cord, which marked an epoch in the lives and experiences of one's friends, and showed that one was not forgetten in the rush of agreeable anticipations.
Just at this time, too, photography was beginning to find a capital use for some of that superfluous pasteboard, by copying the heads of the expectant pair upon it, and conveying to the distant friends of either party the desired information of what the other party looked like.
With the pad of the war and the return of some measure of our national prosperity, and a full in the price of stationery, the announcement of "no cards" may pass out of fashion, and photography give a new charm to the hymenial pasteboard of the future.