I have often thought of this when I see how brittle and egotistical people are at the smallest disapprobation.  I never get over my surprise, old as I am, at the surly moral manners, the lack of humbleness and the colossal personal vanity that are the bed-rock of people’s incapacity to take criticism well.  There is no greater test of size than this; but, judged by this test, most of us are dwarfs.

Disapproving of long engagements and wishing to escape the cataract of advice by which my friends thought to secure both my husband’s and my own matrimonial bliss, I hurried on my marriage.  My friends and advisers made me unhappy at this time, but fortunately for me Henry Asquith is a compelling person and, in spite of the anxiety of the friends and relations, we were married at St. George’s, Hanover Square, on May the 10th, 1894.  I doubt if any bride ever received so many strange letters as I did.  There was one which I kept in front of me when I felt discouraged.  I shall not say who it is from, as the writer is alive: 

My dear Margot,

You are not different to other people except in this respect—­you have a clear, cold head, and a hot, keen heart, and you won’t find everything; so choose what lasts, and with luck and with pluck, marrying as you are from the highest motives, you will be repaid.  Asquith is far too good for you.  He is not conventional, and will give you a great deal of freedom.  He worships you, and understands you, and is bent on making the best of you and the life together.  You are marrying a very uncommon man—­not so much intellectually—­ but he is uncommon from his Determination, Reality and concentrated power of love.  Don’t pity yourself—­you would not wish to have loved Peter less—­though you might wish you had never seen him—­but you must know you have allowed too much love in your life, and must bear the consequences.  Deep down in your heart you must feel that you ought to put a stop to your present life, and to the temptation of making people love you.  Depend upon it with your rich and warm nature you need not be afraid of not loving Asquith intensely.  By marrying him you will prove yourself to be a woman of courage and nobility, instead of a woman who is talked about and who is in reality self-indulgent.  You are lucky after your rather dangerous life to have found such a haven and should bless God for it.

In those days it was less common for people to collect in the streets to see a wedding.  The first marriage I ever saw which collected a crowd was Lady Crewe’s, but her father, Lord Rosebery, was a Derby winner and Prime Minister and she was married in Westminster Abbey.  From Grosvenor Square to St. George’s, Hanover Square, is a short distance, but from our front door to the church the pavements were blocked with excited and enthusiastic people.

An old nurse of my sister Charlotte’s, Jerusha Taylor, told me that a gentleman outside St. George’s had said to her, “I will give you L10 for that ticket of yours!” and when she refused he said, “I will give you anything you like!  I must see Margot Tennant married!” I asked her what sort of a man he was.  She answered,