_BOOKS_ _written by the same Author, and sold by_ _WILLIAM PARKER_, at
the _King’s-Head_ in St. _Paul_’s Church-Yard.
The Christian Religion, as Profess’d by a _DAUGHTER_ of the _Church of
England_. The Third Edition.
Shewing, the due Behaviour of _Women_, the _Vices_ they ought to
_Shun_, and the _Virtues_ they ought to _Practice_. A Treatise very
necessary, in _this degenerate Age_, to _confirm_ the Ladies in
their _Religious Principles_, and to instruct them in what they
ought to _believe_ and _practise_, in order to their _Eternal
Salvation_.
A _Serious_ _PROPOSAL_ to the _LADIES_ for the Advancement of their
_true_ and _greatest_ Interest, Part I. The Fourth Edition.
A _Serious_ _PROPOSAL_ to the _LADIES_, Part II. Wherein a Method is
offered for the _Improvement_ of their _Minds_.
_LETTERS_ concerning the _LOVE_ of _GOD_, between the Author of the
_Proposal to the Ladies_, and Mr. _John Norris_: Wherein his late
Discourse, shewing, that it ought to be intire and exclusive of all
other Loves, is farther cleared and justified. The second Edition.
An _ENQUIRY_ after _WIT_: Wherein the trifling Arguing, and impious
Raillery of the late Earl of _Shaftsbury_, in his Letter concerning
_Enthusiasm_; and other profane Writers, are fully Answer’d and justly
Exposed. The Second Edition.
_MODERATION_ truly stated: Or a Review of a late Pamphlet, intitled,
_Moderation a Vertue_. With a Prefatory Discourse to Dr. _D’Avenant_,
concerning his late Essays on Peace and War. 4_to_.
SOME
REFLECTIONS
UPON
MARRIAGE.
With _ADDITIONS_.
The FOURTH EDITION.
[Illustration]
_LONDON_:
Printed for _WILLIAM PARKER_, at the
_King_’s _Head_ in St. _Paul_’s Church-Yard.
M.DCC.XXX.
[Illustration]
ADVERTISEMENT.
_These Reflections being made in the Country, where the Book that
occasion’d them came but late to Hand, the_ Reader _is desir’d to excuse
their Unseasonableness as well as other Faults; and to believe, that
they have no other Design than to Correct some Abuses, which are not the
less because Power and Prescription seem to authorize them. If any is so
needlesly curious as to inquire from what Hand they come, they may
please to know, that it is not good Manners to ask, since the Title Page
does not tell them: We are all of us sufficiently Vain, and without
doubt, the celebrated Name of_ Author, _which most are so fond of, had
not been avoided but for very good Reasons: To name but one_; Who will
care to pull upon themselves an Hornet’s Nest? _’Tis a very great Fault,
to regard rather Who it is that speaks, than What is spoken; and either
to submit to Authority, when we should only yield to Reason; or if
Reason press too hard, to think to ward it off by Personal Objections
and Reflections. Bold Truths may pass while the Speaker is_ Incognito,
_but are seldom endur’d when he is known; few Minds being strong enough
to bear what contradicts their Principles and Practices, without
recriminating when they can_. _And though to tell the Truth be the most
Friendly Office, yet whoever is so hardy as to venture at it, shall be
counted an Enemy for so doing._
The _PREFACE_ in the last Edition being extended to an uncommon
Length, is now printed at the latter End, as an _APPENDIX_.
_ERRATA._
Page 12. line 15. read _your_; p. 14. l. 5. r. _sufficient_; p. 21. l.
10. dele _in that_; p. 97. l. 10. after _oppose_ add _to_; p. 130.
1. 6. r. _Adulterer_;—l. 23. r. _humbled_; p. 131. l. 2. for _than_
read _as_; p. 156. l. 14. for _was_ r. _is_.
_Books Sold by_ W. _PARKER_.
Archbishop _Sharp_’s Sermons. 4 Vols.
Bishop _Moor_’s Sermons. 2 Vols.
A Collection of above three hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and
Surgery, for the Use of all good Wives, tender Mothers, and careful
Nurses. By several Hands. The Fourth Edition: To which is added, a
second Part, containing a great Number of excellent Receipts, for
Preserving and Conserving of Sweet-Meats, _&c._
A Dissertation of the Extreme Folly and Danger of Infidelity; occasioned
by a late virulent Book, intitled, A Discourse on the Grounds and
Reasons of the Christian Religion. By _Thomas Curteis_, Rector of
_Wrotham_ in _Kent_. Second Edition. Pr. 2_s._
An Inquiry whether a general Practice of Virtue tends to the Wealth or
Poverty, Benefit or Advantage of a People? In which the Pleas offered by
the Author of the Fable of the Bees, or, Private Vices, Publick
Benefits, for the Usefulness of Vice and Roguery, are considered; with
some Thoughts concerning a Toleration of Publick Stews. By the late Mr.
_Bluett_. Pr. 2s. 6d.
The History of the Life and Sufferings of the Reverend and Learned _John
Wickliff_, D. D. Warden of _Canterbury_ Hall, and Publick Professor of
Divinity in _Oxford_, and Rector of _Lutterworth_ in _Leicestershire_,
in the Reign of King _Edward_ III. and _Richard_ the II.; together with
a Collection of Papers relating to the said History, never before
Printed. By _John Lewis_, M. A. Minister of _Margate_ in _Kent_.
The Church Catechism explained for the Use of the Diocese of St.
_Asaph_. By the Right Reverend Father in God _Will. Beveridge_, D. D.
late Bishop of St. _Asaph_. Sixth Edition.
The Faith and Practice of the Church of _England-Man_. The Ninth
Edition. Price 4d.
Principles of the _Cyprianic_ Age, with Regard to Episcopal Power and
Jurisdiction, asserted and recommended from the genuine Writings of St.
_Cyprian_ himself, and his Contemporaries.
[Illustration]
SOME
REFLECTIONS
UPON
MARRIAGE.
Curiosity, which is sometimes an Occasion of Good, but more frequently
of Mischief, by disturbing our own or our Neighbours Repose, having
induc’d me to read the Account of an unhappy Marriage, I thought an
Afternoon would not be quite thrown away in pursuing such _Reflections_
as it occasion’d. I am far from designing a Satire upon Marriage, as
some pretend, either unkindly or ignorantly, through want of
_Reflection_ in that Sense wherein I use the Word.
One wou’d have thought that Cardinal _Mazarine_, whose Dignity, Power
and Riches, render’d him so considerable in the Eyes of all _Europe_;
and who, like most great Ministers, aim’d at nothing so much as the
aggrandizing himself and his Family, and who wanted no Opportunities of
doing it, should have taken his Measures so justly as not to be
disappointed: At least, that a Fabrick rais’d with as much Art and Cost,
founded in the Oppression, and cemented with the Blood of the People,
should not so quickly have tumbled into the Dust after him. But so it
is, _Providence_, whether we think of it or no, overrules our Actions
and baffles our best-concerted Projects: So that unless we wilfully shut
our Eyes, we cannot but discern, that when _Men in_ Power and _Honour_
leave _GOD_ out of their Schemes, they _have no Understanding_, though
their natural Genius be ever so bright, _but are_ justly _compared to
the Beasts that perish_. The _Ignorant_ and _Foolish_ succeed quite as
well as the _Worldly-wise_, who _carry nothing away with them when they_
die, neither will their Riches and Glory descend as they intended. It is
only by generous and worthy Actions that we are rescued from Oblivion,
or from what is worse, being remembred with Contempt and Execrations: So
little Reason is there to envy any Man’s Wealth and Greatness, but much
to emulate their Wisdom and Vertue whose Views extend to a more durable
Felicity.
’Tis natural to well-turn’d Minds, when they hear of any Person eminent
in Wit and Beauty, adorn’d with Politeness and Address, to wish these
may be accompanied and supported by what is more valuable and lasting,
solid Sense and real Vertue. One grieves at any Imputation on such an
engaging Character, and if one cannot always find the favourite Person
fortunate, one labours for the Consolation of finding them discreet; and
even where their Conduct is not wholly blameless, Compassion and
Good-nature will take Place of Censure in a Noble, as well as in a
Christian Heart. We find out something to excuse, something to regret,
lamenting that such a Treasure should fall into unworthy Hands,
insensible of its Value, unskilful to preserve and improve it: We sigh,
we grieve, that any Person capable of being an Ornament to a Family, and
Blessing to the Age, should only serve as an unhappy Shipwreck to point
out the Misfortune of an ill Education and unsuitable Marriage, and the
inexpressible Danger of seeking Consolation and Relief, in any thing but
Innocence and Vertue.
They only who have felt it, know the Misery of being forc’d to marry
where they do not love; of being yok’d for Life to a disagreeable Person
and imperious Temper, where Ignorance and Folly (the Ingredients of a
Coxcomb, who is the most unsufferable Fool) tyrannizes over Wit and
Sense: To be perpetually contradicted for Contradiction-sake, and bore
down by Authority, not by Argument; to be denied one’s most innocent
Desires, for no other Reason but the absolute Will and Pleasure of a
Lord and Master, whose Follies a Wife, with all her Prudence, cannot
hide, and whose Commands she cannot but despise at the same Time that
she obeys them.
Or, suppose on the other Hand, she has married the Man she loves, heap’d
upon him the highest Obligations, by putting into his Power the Fortune
he coveted, the Beauty he profess’d to adore; how soon are the Tables
turn’d? It is her Part now to court and fawn; his real or pretended
Passion soon cools into Indifference, Neglect, or perhaps Aversion. ’Tis
well if he preserves a decent Civility, takes a little care of
Appearances, and is willing to conceal his Breach of Faith.
But shall a Wife retaliate? _GOD_ forbid! no Provocation, though ever so
great, can excuse the Sin, or lessen the Folly: It were indeed a
revenging the Injury upon herself in the most terrible Manner. The
_Italian_ Proverb shews a much better Way, _If you would be revenged of
your Enemies, live well_.
Devotion is the proper Remedy, and the only infallible Relief in all
Distresses; when this is neglected or turn’d into Ridicule, we run, as
from one Wickedness, so from one Misfortune, to another. Unhappy is that
Grandeur which is too great to be good, and that which sets us at a
Distance from true Wisdom. Even Bigotry, as contemptible as it is, is
preferable to profane Wit; for _that_ requires our Pity, but _this_
deserves our Abhorrence.
A Woman who seeks Consolation under Domestick Troubles from the Gaieties
of a Court, from Gallantry, Gaming, rambling in Search of odd
Adventures, childish, ridiculous and ill-natur’d Amusements, such as we
find in the unhappy Madam _M_——’s _Memoirs_, the common Methods of
getting rid of Time, that is, of our very Being, and keeping as much as
we can at a Distance from ourselves, will find these are very
insignificant Applications; they hardly skin the Wound, and can never
heal it, they even hurt, they make it fester, and render it almost
incurable.
What an ill Figure does a Woman make, with all the Charms of her Beauty,
and Sprightliness of her Wit, with all her good Humour and insinuating
Address, though she be the best Oeconomist in the World, the most
entertaining Company, if she remit her Guard, abate in the Severity of
her Caution, and Strictness of her Vertue? If she neglects those Methods
which are necessary to keep her, not only from a Crime, but from the
very Suspicion of one? She justifies the Injury her Husband has done
her, by publishing to the World, that whatever good Qualities she may
possess, Discretion, the Mistress of all the rest, is wanting: Though
she be really guiltless, she cannot prove her Innocence, the Suspicions
in her Prejudice are so strong. When she is censur’d, Charity, that
thinks no Evil, can only be silent; though it believes and hopes the
best, it cannot engage in her Defence, nor apologize for irregular
Actions.
An ill Husband may deprive a Wife of the Comfort and Quiet of her Life,
give occasion of exercising her Vertue, try her Patience and Fortitude
to the utmost, which is all he can do; it is herself only that can
accomplish her Ruin.
In vain we seek for Colours to varnish faulty Manners. An Advocate shews
the best Side of his Wit, but the worst of his Integrity when he has an
ill Cause to manage: But to what Purpose? He cannot impose on the
Judicious, his Colouring vanishes before their Eyes, and a good deal of
Malice, with a very little Sense, will find the Weakness of his
Arguments; so much the more suspected, by how much the more labour’d:
For Truth is plain and forcible, depending on her own Strength; she
requires no more than to be placed in a proper Light, nor condescends to
Art or Insinuations, unless in Compassion to the Weakness and Prejudice
of Mankind. Nor are they less mistaken in regard of Wit, which consists
not meerly in saying what is odd and out of the way; Fools do this
pretty often; but Wit consists in expressing good Sense in a surprising,
yet natural and agreeable Manner.
There are some Reasons, (for the Laws of _GOD_ and Man allow Divorces in
certain Cases) though not many, that authorize a Wife’s leaving her
Husband, but if any Thing short of absolute Necessity, from
irreclaimable Vice and Cruelty, prevails with her to break these sacred
and strongest Bonds, how is she expos’d to Temptations and Injuries,
Contempt, and the just Censure of the World. A Woman of Sense, one
shou’d think, could take but little Pleasure in the Courtship and
Flatteries of her Adorers, even when she is single: But for a married
Woman to admit of Love Addresses, is worse than Folly; it is a Crime so
ridiculous, that I will never believe a Woman of Sense can be guilty of
it. For what does a Man pretend when he whines and dangles after a
married Woman? Would he have her think he admires her, when he is
treating her with the last Contempt? or that he loves her, when he is
trying his Arts to gratify his brutal Passion, at the Price of all that
is dear to her? His fine Speeches have either no Meaning, or a
reproachful one; he affronts her Understanding as well as her Vertue, if
he fancies she cannot discern, or wants Spirit to resent the Insults.
She can look on him no otherwise than as the worst of Hypocrites, who
flatters to betray, and fawns that he may ruin; who is laying Snares to
entangle her in a Commerce founded on Injustice, and Breach of the most
sacred Vows, carried on by Dissimulation, Treachery, Lyes, and Deceit,
attended with Fear and Anxiety, Shame, Remorse, the bitter Stings of
Guilt, whose fatal Consequences cannot be foreseen, the least of which
is the blasting of her Honour. And why all this Mischief? Why, because
he professes to think her amiable, and with the blackest Treachery takes
Advantage of her Weakness, and the too good Opinion she has entertained
of him, to render her odious! to render her contemptible to himself, as
well as to the World.
Who would be that unhappy Person with all her Grandeur, Wit and Beauty,
who gave Occasion to these _Reflections_? Who would live so infamously,
and die so miserably? Whatever Apologies the Interested may invent, what
they call Gallantry will find a harsher Name with the Modest and
Discreet. Or else Gallantry, under whatever Form, must pass for a
scandalous Amusement, not to be allow’d among Persons of Vertue and
Honour. It is indeed ridiculous to talk of harmless Gallantry; there is,
there can be no such Thing: For besides the Umbrage and Scandal, a
Christian must be pure in Heart and Eyes; she who has vow’d her
Affections to one, and is his Property, cannot without Injustice, and
even Perjury, parcel them out to more.
It is in Distempers of the Mind as in those of the Body, a little Care
and Prudence will prevent what requires a long and difficult Regimen to
cure: Therefore in both Cases the Aphorism holds; _Resist the
Beginnings_; be early on our Guard. There was a Time when the most
abandon’d Sinner would have shrunk with Horror, at what by Degrees
becomes familiar, and, as they fancy, natural. The Sap is carry’d on
against Vertue as artfully as against a fortified Town, and the
Approaches are as methodical: But in this the Case is different, the
Besieged cannot fly; whereas Vertue is best secured by avoiding the
Enemy. They are sensible of this, and therefore nothing more common than
that silly Maxim, _That Vertue is not Vertue till it has been tried_.
This is a Mortar-piece that has done more Execution than all their other
Arts; for Self-confidence is always a Prelude to Destruction. The Wife
who listens to Admirers runs into Temptation, and sports upon a
Precipice. For, as a noble Lord, who knew the World perfectly well,
instructs his Daughter, she may as well play with Fire, as dally with
Gallantry. I can say nothing so well upon this Subject, as what is writ
by this noble Author, whom therefore I beg leave to transcribe:
“The _Extravagancies_ of the Age have made _Caution_ more necessary; and
by the same Reason that the too great Licence of ill Men, hath by
Consequence in many Things restrained the lawful Liberty of those who
did not abuse it, the unjustifiable Freedom of some of your Sex, have
involved the rest in the Penalty of being reduced. And though this
cannot so alter the Nature of Things, as to make that _Criminal_, which
in it self is _Indifferent_; yet if it maketh it _dangerous_, that alone
is insufficient to justify the _Restraint_. A _close Behaviour_ is the
fittest to receive _Vertue_ for its constant _Guest_, because there, and
there only, it can be secure. Proper _Reserves_ are the Outworks, and
must never be deserted by those who intend to keep the Place; they keep
off the Possibility not only of being _taken_, but of being _attempted_;
and if a Woman seeth Danger at never so remote a Distance, she is for
that Time to shorten her _Line_ of _Liberty_: She who will allow her
self to go to the _utmost Extents_ of every thing that is _lawful_, is
so very near going further, that those who lie at watch, will begin to
count upon her.
“Mankind, from the double Temptation of _Vanity_ and _Desire_, is apt to
turn every thing a _Woman_ doth to the _hopeful Side_; and there are few
who dare make an impudent Application, till they discern something which
they are willing to take for an _Encouragement_: It is safer therefore
to prevent such _Forwardness_, than to go about to _cure_ it: It
gathereth Strength by the first _Allowances_, and claimeth Right from
having been at any Time suffered with Impunity: Therefore nothing is
with more Care to be avoided, than such a kind of _Civility_ as may be
mistaken for _Invitation_.”
In the Time of Yore a _Knave_ was no more than a Servant, and possibly a
_Gallant_ might originally denote a well-dress’d Coxcomb, who had
nothing else to do but to make Parade of his Wit and Cloaths, and
perhaps of his Valour in Tournament, to gain the general Admiration of
the Ladies, and the Honour of openly professing with Respect and
Distance, his Veneration for some celebrated Beauty, or Woman of Merit.
But modern Gallantry is quite a different Business: The Gallant, the
fine Gentleman in Town, far superior to him upon the Road and all his
Undergraduates, in carrying on his Plot, in the artful Contrivance of
his Design, and Dexterity in executing it, happily combines the Cunning
of the Fox, and the Audacity of the Tyger. Cruel indeed! for he tears
the Fame, worries the Vertue, and compleats the Destruction of his
unhappy Prey. ’Tis well for him that Christianity as yet prevails among
us, for this obliges its Votaries to forgive the highest Injuries:
Should the Morality of the honest Heathen, which some are pleas’d to
profess, but not to practise, become the Fashion, or the old _English_
Spirit, which has done and suffered so much for Liberty and Property,
revive among us, alas! what would become of the _pretty Fellows_? Would
they not run the Risque of being taken for Wolves, or Savages, have a
Price set on their Heads, and be exterminated at any rate, that so among
rational Persons we might be esteem’d a civiliz’d Nation?
These Destroyers avoided, and better Care taken than usual in Womens
Education, Marriage might recover the Dignity and Felicity of its
original Institution; and Men be very happy in a married State, if it be
not their own Fault. The great Author of our Being, who does nothing in
vain, ordained it as the only honourable Way of continuing our Race; as
a Distinction between reasonable Creatures and meer Animals, into which
we degrade our selves, by forsaking the Divine Institution. _GOD_
ordained it for a Blessing, not a Curse: We are foolish as well as
wicked, when that which was appointed for mutual Comfort and Assistance,
has quite contrary Effect through our Folly and Perverseness. Marriage
therefore, notwithstanding all the loose Talk of the Town, the Satires
of antient, or modern Pretenders to Wit, will never lose its just Esteem
from the Wise and Good.
Though much may be said against this, or that Match; though the
Ridiculousness of some, the Wickedness of others, and the Imprudence of
too many, may provoke our Wonder, or Scorn, our Indignation or Pity; yet
Marriage in general is too sacred to be treated with Disrespect, too
venerable to be the Subject of Raillery and Buffoonery. None but the
Impious will pretend to refine on a Divine Institution, or suppose there
is a better Way for Society and Posterity. Whoever scoffs at this, and
by odious Representation would possess the married Pair with a frightful
Idea of each other, as if a Wife is nothing better than a Domestick
Devil, an Evil he must tolerate for his Conveniency; and an Husband must
of necessity be a Tyrant or a Dupe; has ill Designs on both, and is
himself a dangerous Enemy to the Publick, as well as to private
Families.
But upon what are the Satires against Marriage grounded? Not upon the
State it self, if they are just, but upon the ill Choice, or foolish
Conduct of those who are in it? and what has Marriage consider’d in it
self to do with these? When the Blame is laid where it ought to be, not
Marriage, but inordinate Passion, Rashness, Humour, Pride, Covetousness,
Inconstancy, unjust Suspicions, unnecessary Severity, and, in a Word, a
silly, vicious, imprudent Choice, or Conduct, ought to be arraign’d. For
why should Marriage be exclaim’d against when Men reap the Fruit of
their own Folly? If they will put an unequal Yoke upon their own Necks,
they have their Choice, who can they blame for it? If instead of a Help
and Comfort, their Courtship has procured them a Plague and Disgrace,
who may they thank but themselves: A Man can never be under any sort of
Obligation to marry against his Liking, but through some reigning Vice,
or want of Fortitude.
Could there be no happy Marriages, Arguments against Matrimony might
have their Weight with the Reasonable as well as the Licentious. But
since the Laws of _GOD_ and Man, founded upon Reason and Experience,
forbid a Temporary Contract, and engage the married Pair for Life, it is
not only possible, but highly probable, and not without many eminent
Instances, that there are and may be, happy Marriages; provided we act
reasonably in our Choice and Conduct, acquit our selves like wise Men
and Christians. So that all we have to say against Matrimony, seems only
to shew the Levity, or Impiety of our own Minds: It is no more than a
Flourish of Wit, and how prettily soever we may talk, it is but little
to the Purpose.
Is it the being tied to _One_ that offends us? Why this ought rather to
recommend it to us, and would really do so, were we guided by Reason,
and not by Humour or brutish Passion. He who does not make Friendship
the chief Inducement to his Choice, and prefer it before any other
Consideration, does not deserve a good Wife, and therefore should not
complain if he goes without one. Now we can never grow weary of our
Friends; the longer we have had them the more they are endear’d to us;
and if we have One well assur’d, we need seek no farther, but are
sufficiently happy in her. The Love of Variety in this and in other
Cases, shews only the ill Temper of our own Mind in that; for instead of
being content with a competent Share of Good, thankfully and chearfully
enjoying what is afforded us, and patiently bearing with the
Inconveniencies that attend it, we would set up our Rest here, and
expect Felicity where it is not to be found.
The Christian Institution of Marriage provides the best that may be for
Domestick Quiet and Content, and for the Education of Children; so that
if we were not under the Tie of Religion, even the Good of Society and
civil Duty, would oblige us to what Christianity requires: And since the
very best of us are but poor frail Creatures, full of Ignorance and
Infirmity, so that in Justice we ought to tolerate each other, and
exercise that Patience towards our Companions to Day, which we shall
give them occasion to shew towards us To-morrow; the more we are
accustom’d to any one’s Conversation, the better shall we understand
their Humour, be more able to comply with their Weakness, and less
offended at it. For he who would have every one submit to his Humours,
and will not in his Turn comply with them, (though we should suppose him
always in the right, whereas a Man of this Temper very seldom is so) is
not fit for a Husband, scarce fit for Society, but ought to be turn’d
out of the Herd as an unreasonable Creature.
There may indeed be Inconveniencies in a married Life; but is there any
Condition without them? And he who lives single, that he may indulge
Licentiousness and give up himself to the Conduct of wild and ungovern’d
Desires, (or indeed out of any other Inducement, than the Glory of _GOD_
and the Good of his Soul, through the Prospect he has of doing more
Good, or because his Frame and Disposition of Mind are more fit for a
single than a married Life) may rail as he pleases against Matrimony,
but can never justify his own Conduct, nor clear it from the Imputation
of Wickedness and Folly.
But if Marriage be such a blessed State, how comes it, may you say, that
there are so few happy Marriages? Now in answer to this, it is not to be
wonder’d that so few succeed; we should rather be surpriz’d to find so
many do, considering how imprudently Men engage, the Motives they act
by, and the very strange Conduct they observe throughout.
For pray, what do Men propose to themselves in Marriage? What
Qualifications do they look after in a Spouse? What will she bring? is
the first Enquiry: How many Acres? Or how much ready Coin? Not that this
is altogether an unnecessary Question, for Marriage without a
Competency, that is, not only a bare Subsistence, but even a handsome
and plentiful provision, according to the Quality and Circumstances of
the Parties, is no very comfortable Condition. They who marry for Love,
as they call it, find Time enough to repent their rash Folly, and are
not long in being convinc’d, that whatever fine Speeches might be made
in the Heat of Passion, there could be no _real Kindness_ between those
who can agree to make each other miserable. But tho’ an Estate is to be
consider’d, it should not be the _Main_, much less the only
Consideration; for Happiness does not depend on Wealth; That may be
wanting, and too often is, where This abounds. He who marries himself to
a Fortune only, must expect no other Satisfaction than that can bring
him; but let him not say that Marriage, but that his own covetous or
prodigal Temper, has made him unhappy. What Joy has that Man in all his
Plenty, who must either run from home to possess it, contrary to all the
Rules of Justice, to the Laws of _GOD_ and Man, nay, even in Opposition
to good Nature and good Breeding too, which some Men make more Account
of than of all the rest; or else be forc’d to share it with a Woman
whose Person or Temper is disagreeable, whose Presence is sufficient to
sour all his Enjoyments, so that if he has any Remains of Religion or
good Manners, he must suffer the Uneasiness of a continual Watch, to
force himself to a constrain’d Civility?
Few Men have so much Goodness as to bring themselves to a Liking of what
they loath’d, meerly because it is their Duty to like; on the contrary,
when they marry with an Indifferency, to please their Friends or
increase their Fortune, the Indifferency proceeds to an Aversion, and
perhaps even the Kindness and Complaisance of the poor abus’d Wife,
shall only serve to increase it. What follows then? There is no Content
at home, so it is sought elsewhere, and the Fortune so unjustly got, is
as carelesly squander’d; the Man takes a Loose, what should hinder him?
He has all in his Hands, and Custom has almost taken off that small
Restraint Reputation us’d to lay. The Wife finds too late what was the
Idol the Man adored, which her Vanity, perhaps, or it may be the
Commands and Importunities of Relations, would not let her see before;
and now he has got That into his Possession, she must make Court to him
for a little sorry Alimony out of her own Estate. If Discretion and
Piety prevail upon her Passions, she sits down quietly contented with
her Lot, seeks no Consolation in the Multitude of Adorers, since he whom
only she desir’d to please, because it was her Duty to do so, will take
no Delight in her Wit or Beauty: She follows no Diversion to allay her
Grief, uses no Cordials to support her Spirit, that may sully her Vertue
or bring a Cloud upon her Reputation; she makes no Appeals to the
mis-judging Croud, hardly mentions her Misfortunes to her most intimate
Acquaintance, nor lays a Load on her Husband to ease her self; but
would, if it were possible, conceal his Crimes, though her Prudence and
Vertue give him a thousand Reproaches without her Intention or
Knowledge; and retiring from the World, she seeks a more solid Comfort
than it can give her, taking Care to do nothing that Censoriousness, or
even Malice it self can misconstrue to her Prejudice. Now she puts on
all her Reserves, and thinks even innocent Liberties scarce allowable in
her disconsolate State; she has other Business to mind: Nor does she in
her Retirements reflect so much upon the Hand that administers this
bitter Cup, as consider what is the best Use she can make of it. And
thus indeed, Marriage, however unfortunate in other respects, becomes a
very great Blessing to her. She might have been exposed to all the
Temptations of a plentiful Fortune, have given up her self to Sloth and
Luxury, and gone on at the common rate, even of the better Sort, in
doing no Hurt, and as little Good: But now her kind Husband obliges her
to _Consider_, and gives Opportunity to exercise her Vertue; he makes it
necessary to withdraw from those Gaieties and Pleasures of Life, which
do more Mischief under the Shew of Innocency, than they could if they
appear’d attended with a Crime, discomposing and dissolving the Mind,
and making it uncapable of any manner of Good, to be sure of any thing
Great and Excellent. Silence and Solitude, the being forc’d from the
ordinary Entertainments of her Station, may perhaps seem a desolate
Condition at first, and we may allow her, poor weak Woman! to be
somewhat shock’d at it, since even a wise and courageous Man perhaps
would not keep his Ground. We would conceal (if we could) for the Honour
of the Sex, Mens being baffled and dispirited by a smaller matter, were
not the Instances too frequent and too notorious.
But a little Time wears off all the Uneasiness, and puts her in
possession of Pleasures, which till now she has unkindly been kept a
Stranger to. Affliction, the sincerest Friend, the frankest Monitor, the
best Instructor, and indeed, the only useful School that Women are ever
put to, rouzes her Understanding, opens her Eyes, fixes her Attention,
and diffuses such a Light, such a Joy into her Mind, as not only Informs
her better, but Entertains her more than ever her _Ruel_ did, though
crouded by the Men of Wit. She now distinguishes between Truth and
Appearances, between solid and apparent Good; has found out the
Instability of all earthly Things, and won’t any more be deceived by
relying on them; can discern who are the Flatterers of her Fortune, and
who the Admirers and Encouragers of her Vertue; accounting it no little
Blessing to be rid of those Leeches, who hung upon her only for their
own Advantage. Now sober Thoughts succeed to Hurry and Impertinence, to
Forms and Ceremony; she can secure her Time, and knows how to improve
it; never truly a happy Woman till she came, in the Eye of the World, to
be reckon’d Miserable.
Thus the Husband’s Vices may become an Occasion of the Wife’s Vertues,
and his Neglect do her a more real Good than his Kindness could. But all
injur’d Wives don’t behave themselves after this Fashion, nor can their
Husbands justly expect it. With what Face can he blame her for following
his Example, and being as extravagant on the one Hand, as he is on the
other? Though she cannot justify her Excesses to _GOD_, to the World,
nor to her Self, yet surely in respect of him they may admit of an
Excuse. For to all the rest of his Absurdities, (for Vice is always
unreasonable) he adds one more, who expects that Vertue from another
which he won’t practise himself.
But suppose a Man does not marry for Money, though for one that does
not, perhaps there are thousands that do; suppose he marries for Love,
an Heroick Action, which makes a mighty Noise in the World, partly
because of its Rarity, and partly in regard of its Extravagancy, what
does his marrying for Love amount to? There’s no great Odds between his
marrying for the Love of Money, or for the Love of Beauty; the Man does
not act according to Reason in either Case, but is govern’d by irregular
Appetites. But he loves her Wit perhaps, and this, you’ll say, is more
Spiritual, more Refin’d: Not at all, if you examine it to the Bottom.
For what is that which now a-days passes under the Name of Wit? A bitter
and ill-natur’d Raillery, a pert Repartee, or a confident talking at
all; and in such a multitude of Words, it’s Odds if something or other
does not pass that is surprizing, though every Thing that surprizes does
not please; some Things being wonder’d at for their Ugliness, as well as
others for their Beauty. True Wit, durst one venture to describe it, is
quite another Thing; it consists in such a Sprightliness of Imagination,
such a Reach and Turn of Thought, so properly express’d, as strikes and
pleases a judicious Taste. For though, as one says of Beauty, _’tis in
no Face, but in the Lover’s Mind_, so it may be said of some sorts of
Wit, it is not in him that speaks, but in the Imagination of his Hearer;
yet doubtless there is a true Standard-Wit, which must be allow’d for
such by every one who understands the Terms. I don’t say that they shall
all _equally_ like it; and it is this Standard-wit that always pleases,
the Spurious does so only for a Season.
Now what is it that strikes a judicious Taste? Not that, to be sure,
which injures the Absent, or provokes the Company, which poisons the
Mind under Pretence of entertaining it, proceeding from, or giving
Countenance to false Notions, to dangerous and immoral Principles. Wit
indeed is distinct from Judgment, but it is not contrary to it; ’tis
rather its Handmaid, serving to awaken and fix the Attention, that so we
may judge rightly. Whatever charms, does so because of its Regularity
and Proportion; otherwise, though it is Extraordinary and out of the
Way, it will only be star’d on like a Monster, but can never be lik’d.
And tho’ a Thought is ever so fine and new, ever so well express’d, if
it suits not with Decorum and good Manners, it is not just and fit, and
therefore offends our Reason, and consequently has no real Charms, nor
would afford us any Entertainment, if our Taste were not deprav’d.
But it must not be suppos’d that Womens Wit approaches those Heights
which Men arrive at, or that they indulge those Liberties the other
take. Decency lays greater Restraints on them, their Timorousness does
them this one, and perhaps this only Piece of Service, it keeps them
from breaking through these Restraints, and following their Masters and
Guides in many of their daring and masculine Crimes. As the World goes,
your Witty Men are usually distinguish’d by the Liberty they take with
Religion, good Manners, or their Neighbours Reputation: But, _GOD_ be
thank’d, it is not yet so bad, as that Women should form Cabals to
propagate Atheism and Irreligion[1]. A Man then cannot hope to find a
Woman whose Wit is of a Size with his, but when he doats on Wit, it is
to be imagin’d he makes Choice of that which comes the nearest to his
own.
Footnote 1:
_This was wrote in the Beginning of the present Century._
Thus, whether it be Wit or Beauty that a Man’s in Love with, there are
no great Hopes of a lasting Happiness; Beauty, with all the Helps of
Art, is of no long Date; the more it is help’d, the sooner it decays;
and he, who only or chiefly chose for Beauty, will in a little Time find
the same Reason for another Choice. Nor is that sort of Wit which he
prefers, of a more sure Tenure; or allowing it to last, it will not
always please. For that which has not a real Excellency and Value in it
self, entertains no longer than that giddy Humour which recommended it
to us holds; and when we can like on no just, or on very little Ground,
’tis certain a Dislike will arise, as lightly and as unaccountably. And
it is not improbable that such a Husband may in a little Time, by ill
Usage, provoke such a Wife to exercise her Wit, that is, her Spleen on
him, and then it is not hard to guess how very agreeable it will be to
him.
In a word, when we have reckon’d up how many look no further than the
making of their Fortune, as they call it; who don’t so much as propose
to themselves any Satisfaction in the Woman to whom they plight their
Faith, seeking only to be Masters of her Estate, that so they may have
Money enough to indulge all their irregular Appetites; who think they
are as good as can be expected, if they are but, according to the
fashionable Term, _Civil Husbands_; when we have taken the Number of
your giddy Lovers, who are not more violent in their Passion than they
are certain to repent of it; when to these you have added such as marry
without any Thought at all, further than that it is the Custom of the
World, what others have done before them, that the Family must be kept
up, the antient Race preserv’d, and therefore their kind Parents and
Guardians choose as they think convenient, without ever consulting the
Young one’s Inclinations, who must be satisfied, or pretend so at least,
upon Pain of their Displeasure, and that heavy Consequence of it,
Forfeiture of their Estate: These set aside, I fear there will be but a
small Remainder to marry out of better Considerations; and even amongst
the Few that do, not one in a Hundred takes Care to deserve his Choice.
But do the Women never choose amiss? Are the Men only in Fault? That is
not pretended; for he who will be just, must be forced to acknowledge,
that neither Sex are always in the right. A Woman, indeed, can’t
properly be said to Choose; all that is allow’d her, is to Refuse or
Accept what is offer’d. And when we have made such reasonable Allowances
as are due to the Sex, perhaps they may not appear so much in Fault as
one would at first imagine, and a generous Spirit will find more
Occasion to Pity, than to Reprove. But sure I transgress——it must not be
suppos’d that the Ladies can do amiss! He is but an ill-bred Fellow who
pretends that they need Amendment! They are, no doubt on’t, always in
the right, and most of all when they take Pity on distressed Lovers!
Whatever they _say_ carries an Authority that no Reason can resist, and
all that they _do_ must needs be Exemplary! This is the Modish Language,
nor is there a Man of Honour amongst the whole Tribe, that would not
venture his Life, nay, and his Salvation too, in their Defence, if any
but himself attempts to injure them. But I must ask Pardon if I can’t
come up to these Heights, nor flatter them with the having no Faults,
which is only a malicious Way of continuing and increasing their
Mistakes.
Women, it’s true, ought to be treated with Civility; for since a little
Ceremony and out-side Respect is all their Guard, all the Privilege
that’s allow’d them, it were barbarous to deprive them of it; and
because I would treat them civilly, I would not express my Civility at
the usual rate. I would not, under Pretence of Honouring and paying a
mighty Deference to the Ladies, call them Fools, or what’s worse, to
their Faces; For what are all the fine Speeches and Submissions that are
made, but an abusing them in a well-bred Way? She must be a Fool with a
Witness, who can believe a Man, Proud and Vain as he is, will lay his
boasted Authority, the Dignity and Prerogative of his Sex, one Moment at
her Feet, but in Prospect of taking it up again to more Advantage; he
may call himself her Slave a few Days, but it is only in order to make
her his all the rest of his Life.
Indeed that mistaken Self-Love that reigns in the most of us, both Men
and Women, that over-good Opinion we have of ourselves, and Desire that
others should have of us, makes us swallow every Thing that looks like
Respect, without examining how wide it is from what it appears to be.
For nothing is in Truth a greater Outrage than Flattery and feign’d
Submissions; the plain _English_ of which is this, “I have a very mean
Opinion both of your Understanding and Vertue; you are Weak enough to be
impos’d on, and Vain enough to snatch at the Bait I throw; there’s no
Danger of your finding out my Meaning, or disappointing me of my Ends. I
offer you _Incense_, ’tis true, but you are like to pay for’t, and to
make me a Recompence for your Folly, in imagining I would give my self
this Trouble, did I not hope, nay, were I not sure, to find my own
Account in it. If for nothing else, you’ll serve at least as an Exercise
of my Wit; and how much soever you swell with my Breath, ’tis I deserve
the Praise for talking so well on so poor a Subject. We, who make the
Idols, are the greater Deities; and as we set you up, so it is in our
Power to reduce you to your first Obscurity, or to somewhat worse, to
Contempt; you are therefore only on your good Behaviour, and are like to
be no more than what we please to make you.” This is the Flatterer’s
Language aside, this is the true Sense of his Heart, whatever his
Grimace may be before the Company.
And if this be the true Meaning of honourable Courtship, what is meant
by that Jargon, that Profusion of Love and Admiration which passes for
Gallantry, when either of the Parties are married? Is it not the utmost
Scurrility, in that it supposes she is, or that he hopes to make her,
what good Manners forbids to name? And since he makes so free with the
Lady’s Honour, can she afford him a civiller Answer, than what her
Footman may deliver with a Crab-tree? But I correct my self,——this might
be the Air of a haughty _Roman_ Prude; our _British_ Beauties are far
more Gentle and Well-bred. And he who has the same Designs upon other
Mens Relations, is sometimes so civil as to bear with the Outrages
offer’d to his own.
Not but that ’tis possible, and sometimes Matter of Fact, to express our
selves beyond the Truth in Praise of a Person, and yet not be guilty of
Flattery; but then we must Think what we Say, and Mean what we Profess.
We may be so blinded by some Passion or other, especially Love, which in
Civil and Good-natur’d Persons is apt to exceed, as to believe some
Persons more deserving than really they are, and to pay them greater
Respect and Kindness than is in Strictness due to them. But this is not
the present Case; for our fine Speech-makers doat too much on themselves
to have any great Passion for another. Their Eyes are commonly too much
fix’d on their own Excellencies, to view another’s good Qualities
through a Magnifying-Glass; at least if ever they turn that End of the
Perspective towards their Neighbours, ’tis only in Respect and Reference
to themselves. They are their own Centres, they find a Disproportion in
every Line that does not tend thither, and in the next Visit they make,
you shall hear all the fine Things they had said, repeated to the new
Object, and nothing remembred of the former but her Vanity, or something
else as ridiculous, which serves for a Foil, or a Whet to Discourse. For
let there be ever so many Wits in the Company, Conversation would
languish, and they would be at a Loss, did not a little Censoriousness
come in at a Need to help them.
Let us then treat the Ladies as civilly as may be, but let us not do it
by Flattering them, but by endeavouring to make them such as may truly
deserve our hearty Esteem and Kindness. Men ought really for their own
Sakes, to do what in them lies to make Women Wise and Good, and then it
might be hoped they themselves would effectually Study and Practice that
Wisdom and Vertue they recommend to others. But so long as Men, even the
best of them, who do not outrage the Women they pretend to adore, have
base and unworthy Ends to serve, it is not to be expected that they
should consent to such Methods as would certainly disappoint them. They
would have their own Relations do well; it is their Interest: but it
sometimes happens to be for their Turn that another Man’s should not,
and then their Generosity fails them, and no Man is apter to find Fault
with another’s dishonourable Actions, than he who is ready to do, or
perhaps has done the same himself.
And as Men have little Reason to expect Happiness when they marry only
for the Love of Money, Wit, or Beauty, as has been already shewn, so
much less can a Woman expect a tolerable Life, when she goes upon these
Considerations. Let the Business be carried as prudently as it can be on
the Woman’s Side, a reasonable Man can’t deny that she has by much the
harder Bargain: because she puts her self intirely into her Husband’s
Power, and if the Matrimonial Yoke be grievous, neither Law nor Custom
afford her that Redress which a Man obtains. He who has Sovereign Power
does not value the Provocations of a Rebellious Subject; he knows how to
subdue him with Ease, and will make himself obey’d: But Patience and
Submission are the only Comforts that are left to a poor People, who
groan under Tyranny, unless they are Strong enough to break the Yoke, to
Depose and Abdicate, which, I doubt, would not be allow’d of here. For
whatever may be said against Passive-Obedience in another Case, I
suppose there’s no Man but likes it very well in this; how much soever
Arbitrary Power may be dislik’d on a Throne, not _Milton_, nor _B. H—_,
nor any of the Advocates of Resistance, would cry up Liberty to poor
_Female Slaves_, or plead for the Lawfulness of Resisting a private
Tyranny.