A Treatise concerning the Use and Abuse of the Marriage Bed/Chapter 7
CHAP. VII.
O Love and not to Marry, is Nature's Aversion; to Marry and not to Love, is Nature's Corruption; the first is Hateful, the last is really Criminal; and, as has been said in its Place, it is, in some Respects, both Murther and Robbery; it makes a Man Felo de se, with respect to all the Comforts of his Life; and it makes him a Robber to his Wife, if she be a Woman that has the misfortune to Love him. And this I have spoken to at large in the last Chapter.
But to marry one Woman and love another, to marry one Man and be in love with another, this is yet worse, tenfold worse, if that be possible! 'tis, in its kind, a meer Piece of Witchcraft; it is a kind of civil, legal Adultery, nay, it makes the Man or Woman be committing Adultery in their Hearts every Day of their lives; and can I be wrong therefore to say, that it may be very well called a Matrimonial Whoredom? if I may judge, it is one of the worst Kinds of it too.
It is (first) a plain downright Crime in the beginning of it; if both the Man and the Woman are in it, they indeed cheat one another; first the Man thinks the Woman has the worst of it, and that he only cheats her; she fancies he has the worst of it, and that she cheats him; but, in short, 'tis a mutual Fraud, wherein both are Cheats and both Cheated, both Deceivers and both Deceived.
When they come to the Book to marry, they mutually engage what was engaged before, like a Knave that borrows Money upon an Estate which he had mortgaged already. Mark what a Complication of Crimes meet together in the Church; when they come up to the Altar, the Man plights her his Troth or Truth, that he will love her; when he knows he cannot do it, for that he loves another already before her.
The Woman plights him her Troth, that she will love him, when, as the Lady just now mentioned, told Sir Thomas ———, she heartily hated him from the first time she ever saw him. Here is mutual pledging the Troth to a Falshood, which is, in short, a premeditated Lye; like a cold Blood murther, 'tis intended to be done long before it is done. Here's also a stated, calm, intended Perjury; a swearing to do what they own they not only did not intend to do, but knew beforehand they could not do.
How many kinds of Dishonesty are here mixt together? Take it in the very first Words of the Minister, being as an Introduction to the Office of Matrimony; the Minister adjures them, as they will answer it at the great and dreadful Day, &c. when the Secrets of all Hearts shall be revealed, that if they know any lawful Hindrance or Impediment why they should not be lawfully joyned together, they should then declare it, protesting against even the Validity of the Marriage, in case they fail.
I Require and charge you both, (as ye will answer at the dreadful Day of Judgment, when the Secrets of all Hearts shall be disclosed) that if either of you know any Impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joyned together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow, are not joyned together by God, neither is their Matrimony lawful.
Hereupon the Minister giving them time to answer, they are Silent; that is to say, they declare no Impediment, which is a tacit declaring that they know of none; and yet, at the same time, they know that in Conscience they have settled their Love and Affection upon another Person; and the Man or Woman they now marry they cannot love, and ought not on that Account to marry, because they Promise what they know they shall not perform.
How many times also does the Secret come out afterwards, either unawares by themselves, or in delirious Fits, extremities of Distempers, Dreams, talking in the Sleep, and such other Ways, which prove however fatal to the Peace of the Family, yet unavoidable?
Such Persons have great Reason to be sure that they do not talk in their Sleep; for what the Mind bears such a Weight of upon it, which indeed it is not equal to, and is not possible to be supported, though by a vigilant guarding the Tongue in the Day-time it shall be kept in, yet how often will it break out in a Dream, and the Tongue betray it self in its sleep?
How miserable is the Lady, frequently wishing she was in the Arms of the Man she loves instead of his Arms, who she is unhappily tyed to? Those ardent Wishes prompting her Desires, she falls into a Slumber, and dreams that it is really so, as she wished it might be.
In the transports of her Imagination her waking Soul commands her Tongue, tho' the whole Organick Body be laid asleep; I say, commands the Tongue to tell the dangerous Truth; she cries out, as in an Extasy, discovers the Affection, and unhappily names the Man: The fair ———, the Toast of the Town, the Beauty of the Beauties, had Admirers enough, was beloved to Madness and Distraction by a throng of Admirers; at last, for the sake of a Settlement, a little more than ordinary large, she quits the generous Ca———, the Lord of her Affections, the only Man in the World that had found the Way into her Heart, and to whom she had made innumerable Vows of Fidelity; I say, quits him with the utmost Rudeness, and throws her self at the Importunities and Commands of her avaritious Parents; I say, throws her self into the Arms of a mean, a course, an unbred, half-taught Citizen, the Son of a rich overgrown Tradesman, himself a Clown, only that he was a Boor of Fortune, can keep her fine, and cause her to ride in a Coach: And what then?
She marries this Lump of unpolished, simple Stuff, and they live Tolerably well for a Time, when one Night, in a Dream, she fancied her self in the Arms of her former Lover: pleas'd to a Rapture with what she had so long Reason to know she could never enjoy; she flies out even in her Dream to talking aloud; and not only to talk aloud, tho' fast asleep, but gives her Tongue a loose into all the most dangerous Expressions, that Love to the real Master of her Heart, and the utmost Contempt of her Jaylor, as she call'd him, meaning her Husband, could inspire her with: Nor was this all; for where will Misfortunes End! but in the highth of her Extasies and with a wicked, tho' but fancied Liberty, she calls her former Lover by his Name, and so betrays her self to her Husband, who hears himself accused of the worst of Crimes, treated with the worst Contempt, and the greatest of Indignity put upon him, in Words at length, that can be thought of.
Her Husband was not at first well awake, and so, perhaps, was not let into the first Part of it; nor was he presently capable of understanding what it all meant: But when he heard himself abused in so gross a manner, it put him into a Passion, and he replied rashly to her, not thinking she had been asleep.
This replying to her, unhappily waked her, or, at least so much, as to put a stop to her talking aloud. Her Husband was presently aware that his Wife was not awake, and vexed that he waked her; he lies still a little, till Sleep overcoming her, and the pleasing Ideas of her past Loves set her to talking again; when her Husband subtilly managing himself, spoke softly at her Ear several Words agreeable to what she had said, and brought her by that means (as is not impracticable) to answer several Questions, and that in such a manner, as his Patience would bear it no longer.
This want of Temper was perhaps her Felicity so far, as that she discovered no more to him, though she had discovered so much already, as made an irreconcileable Breach between them: And first, as he was exasperated to the highest Degree by what he had heard, and waked her in a kind of a Passion; he asked her, what she had been dreaming of?
She was not presently come to her self enough to recollect that it was all a Dream, so that she made him no Answer for a while; but he repeating the Question, it soon came into her Thoughts, that she had dreamed something not fit to tell him of; so she answered, she had dreamed of nothing; but he pressing her with the Question, she said. Did she Dream? why, if she did, she could not remember it. But what Confusion was she in, when she heard him tell her all the Particulars of her Dream, as fairly (almost) as if she had told them her self?
However, she insisted that she knew nothing of it, that if she did dream, nothing was more frequent than for People to dream, and forget what they dreamt of, and so might she; for that she knew nothing of it, at the same time little thinking, nay, not suspecting what had happened, (viz.) that she had been talking in her Sleep to her former Lover, with all possible Endearments, and had spoken to him of her Husband with the utmost Contempt; and she was confounded again to have her Husband repeat the very Words which she knew she had dreamed of.
But her Husband, whose Passion drove him beyond all Bounds, was not satisfied with upbraiding her with the Particulars, but told her, that she had revealed them all her self in her Sleep, and that she had said so and so to him, upon his making little short Answers to her; and offering some Questions, and that, in short, she had betrayed her own Intrigues; front whence, he charged her openly with being Dishonest, and with that Person also, and that before her Marriage to him as well as after, alledging that it appeared from her own Mouth. Nor was he prudent enough to conceal the Thing, and to let it lie as a private Feud between themselves; but he told it openly and publickly among the Neighbours, and in almost all Company. But he had the worst of the Quarrel, though he had the better of the Fact, and that by his want of Conduct too.
The Women's Wit, they say, never fails them at a Pinch; 'tis easy to imagine, that his Wife was in the utmost Confusion at the discovery of the Thing as it was, and especially while she was at a loss to know which way he came by his Information, for though she might easily have supposed that she must have spoke aloud in her Sleep, yet as she had never known her self to do so before, she did not think of it at first, but thought he had dealt with the Devil, and that he must have been with some Conjurer, who, as she had been told, could, by the help of the Devil, first make People dream of what they thought fit to inject into their Thoughts, and then tell of it to whom they thought fit.
This filled her with Indignation at her Husband, for having, as she affirmed, bewitched her, and employed the Devil to betray her into Mischief, and then betray that Mischief; and she resolved to give him a home Charge upon the Subject, and threaten to bring him upon the publick Stage for Inchantment and Sorcery.
But he put a better Invention into her Head; for unwarily he threw it out, that he heard her talk in her Sleep, and that he ask'd her such and such Questions, by whispering in her Ear, and that she answered so and so.
It immediately occurred to her, that if this was all he had for it, he was but one Affirmative, and no Witness in his own Case, and that her Negative might go as far as his Affirmative; that she had no more to do but to deny the Fact; that as to the Story of whispering Questions, and her answering them, the Pretence was a Novelty; and so strange, that tho' it might be true, no Body would believe it, especially if she firmly denied it.
Upon this she began with him; told him, she had perceived a good while his jealous and uneasy Humour, and that he had laid a great many Plots and Designs to attack her Reputation, and all to find an Excuse to justify his ill Usage of her; but that her Conduct was such before the whole World, that no Body would believe him; and that now he had dress'd up a Story between the Devil and him, to fix something upon her, if possible; but that it was an evident Forgery of his own, with the help of his Witchcraft: And as the Story was it self improbable, and next to impossible, so she declared it was a Lie, and she defied the Devil and him, they might both do their worst.
She gave him this so Roundly, and with such Assurance, and told it also so publickly, (as he did his Story) that the Man began to find she had the better_of him; that People began to think her ill used; that he was only jealous of her, and that he had made this Story to blast her Character, and to justify his own Jealousies; then as to the whispering Story, every Body said it looked like a Forgery indeed, and no Body believed a Word of it, for it seemed improbable, so that the Husband began to talk less of the Matter than before, and was sensible that she was too hard for him.
But the more he began to give out, the more furiously she followed her Blow; for she not only told her Tale, as above, but she employed two or three Emissaries to hand it about among the Ladies at the Tea Table, and among the Gossips; and the Man, in a word, got such an ill Name, that he was the Contempt of all his Neighbours.
Nor did she End here; but she added her former Design to the latter: And, first, she separated from him at home, or, as 'tis usually express'd, they parted Beds; in short, she told him, that it was reported there were Magicians and Fellows that dealt with the Devil, who, they said, by the help of Evil Spirits, could cause People to dream what and when they pleased, and to talk in their Sheep, and that she understood her Husband had been conversing with some of those cunning Men, as they call'd them, in order to make the Experiment upon her, by whispering Things in her Ear while she was asleep, and so making her Dream so and so, and then report, that she talked of those Things in her sleep, in order to expose her.
That therefore she would lie by her self, for she would not lie in Bed with one that would bring the Devil into the Room, to expose and betray her; that she would have her Maid lie with her every Night, that she might have good Witness of her Conduct; but that she would not trust her self any more to sleep with one that would betray her to the Devil, and then to all the World.
This she not only told her husband, but told it to all her Friends and Tea Table Emissaries; and the Story was so plausible in its kind, and was told so much to her Advantage, that every Body justify'd her Conduct, said she was in the right, that she could do no less, and that no Woman in her Senses would sleep in Bed with a Man who was able to do such Things as those; and that, in short, it was all one as to sleep with the Devil.
The Man had no Remedy but to deny the Charge, and to say he never had any thing to do with the Devil, or with any such People as Conjurers, Magicians, or any such Sort of Folks, in his life. But all that went but a little Way, for who would not deny it if they were the most guilty of any in the World; but the Woman vouched that so and so he had said, and such and such Things he had pretended; that h« could not do so without the help of the Devil; and that therefore it was not safe for her, by any means, to trust her self with him.
Thus the guilty Wife got the Victory over the innocent Husband, by the meer dexterity of her Wit, and the Conduct of her Allies, not forgetting the assistance of a Publick Clamour; the Man himself, at the same time, was not famed for overmuch Sense or Conduct in this, or other Things, and therefore was the easier managed by a keen witted Wife. But the Inference from the whole Discourse comes in perfectly adapted to the Argument which it is brought to confirm, (viz.) that to love one Person, be it Man or Woman, and then marry another, is neither honest to the Person quitted, or to the Person married, but especially not to the last, and more especially not honest to the Person herself or himself; in a word, it is not an honest Marriage; for the engaged Affection is a just Impediment, and ought to have been declared and discovered at the Book, upon the Declaration appointed to be made by the Minister, as above, or before they came so far.
As for the Success of such Marriages, the Blessing attending them, and what Happiness is to be expected from them, it seems to be laid open in Part, in the little History just recited; but 'tis really visible to common Experience in almost every Age and Place in the World, I mean our English World.
What Delight, what Complaisance can there be in that Matrimony, where the Heart did not go with the Hand? where the Marriage may be said to be made from the Teeth outward, and no more? where the Love is fixed in one Place, and the Bed made in another? What is this but a fraudulent Contract, a Protestation, with a design to deceive, which, by the Way, is the very Essence of a Lye, and one of the worst Kind too?
What Complaisance or Pleasure in their Enjoyments of any kind, between the unhappy Couple, and how can it be called a fair Marriage? Two swear to love, and at the same time both know they neither do or can; that they neither desire it or intend it, and they come to the Book, two Carcasses without Souls, without assent or consent, but in meer subjection to Circumstances enter into a horrid Slavery; the Woman dragged by her old Grandmother, or her thundering and threatning Parent, because the Miser can give her a Portion, or not give it her, as he pleases; can make her a Fortune or a Chamber-maid, a Lady or a Shoemaker's Wife. Under these Terrors and Obligations, she does as she's bid, and marries any Body they please, let him have Wit, Sense and Manners, or neither Wit, Sense or Manners: As she is pre-engaged, and her Affections look quite another Way; the thoughts of this Marriage are her Abhorrence, her Aversion, and yet she marries him. What must we call this? Is it Matrimony? No, no; it has nothing of Matrimony in it but the Form, 'tis all a Cheat; they lie to one another when they repeat the Words; and they both know they do so, nay, they intend to do so; as to the Consequence, you have it before, between Sir Thomas, and my Lady ——— But as to the Fact, 'tis horrid in its Nature; they are but two Victims, I cannot indeed, in one Sense, call them Prostitutes; but they are prostituted by the governing Relations, brought together by the arbitrary Authority of those that have the Influence over them: Here, says the old Father with a lordly Air to his Son, take this young Woman to Church, and marry her; perhaps the Debate has been between them before about loving her or not loving her, and the young Man has told him positively, he hates her, or that he can't love her. But 'tis all one, the old Man likes the Settlement, and tells him in so many Words, that if he won't take her, his Brother shall, and shall have his Estate too.
I could name so many Examples of this kind, and give you an Account of so many Families ruined by it, that it would tire you in the reading. But give me leave to single out one for your Remark, which, though the Case was nearer home, you must allow me to place at some Distance, that the particular Families may not be marked out and exposed. Suppose then the Scene in France, not far from a great City, not the greatest but the greatest City but one in the Kingdom: A certain rich Merchant had two Sons, and though he had a very great Estate, it was of his own Purchasing, so that there was no Entail upon it, and he was therefore at liberty to give it to which of his Sons he pleased.
His eldest Son was a young Gentleman of good Sense, and a very agreeable Person, and his Father had bestowed some Charge upon his Education, had given him learning and good Breeding, to qualify him, as he said, for the Life of a Gentleman, and, as he usually expressed it, to make him know how to live agreeable to the Fortune he was able to give him; but withal, the Father kept him pretty much in Subjection; and the more, by making him always sensible how much it was in his Power to make him a Gentleman or a Beggar, that is to say, to give him an Estate, and make him live like a Gentleman, or turn him loose in the World to seek his Fortune.
Particularly, the Father was often repeating to his Son, how he expected that he should conform himself to his Measures in taking a Wife, and that if he did not, he would absolutely disinherit him, and give his Estate to his younger Brother.
Whether this absolute Declaration of the Father, did not, in some manner, influence the Son, so as to create, with the aversion to the Tyranny of it, a kind of dislike to every thing the Father could propose, I cannot say; perhaps there might be something of that kind in it too, for Nature abhors Violence in Love.
But however it was, this is certain, that when his Father proposed a Match to him, he did it with an Air of Authority; told him, he had pitched upon such a Family, where he knew there was a suitable Fortune; that it was a very advantagious Alliance, and that he had already discoursed with the Lady's Father, and he found Things were very well, and that every Thing would be to his mind, and therefore he would have him think of marrying her.
But, Sir, says the Son, you will please to let me see the Lady, I hope.
Why, says the Father, what if you should not see her till afterwards, there's no great Matter in that? I suppose you know it is in such a Province, and she will be sent to Paris, (London) after the Contract is signed, and there you may marry her.
Son. What, must I marry her unsight, unseen.
Father. Why, didn't the King marry the Queen so? Did not the Prince of ——— marry the Lady ——— so? Sure, you are not above such People.
Son. But, Sir, they did not love them the better for that.
Father. What's that to the purpose? Do they not live gloriously together?
Son. I cannot think, Sir, of marrying by proxy.
Father. You are willing, I find, to give me more trouble than you need. What, must I bring the Lady up to Town on purpose for you to see her, and see whether you like her? What Occasion is there for that? I assure you, like her, or not like her, you are like to take her, or you and I shall differ upon an Article that will be very disagreeable to you.
Son. No, Sir, I'll not give you or the Lady that trouble; I'll go down into the Country, if you please, and see her there.
Father. And what then?
Son. Then, Sir, I'll give you my Answer.
Father. Answer; what d'ye mean by that? I assure you, I shall not come into your Notions, (viz.) of giving you a negative Voice; The Settlements are agreed on, and are sufficient to make you both happy, and to make you live like a Gentleman all your Days. Do you think these are not infinitely of more Consequence than what you call pleasing your loose Fancy? I hope my eldest Son won't be a Fool.
Son. Nay, Sir, if you will not give me a negative Voice.
Father. If I will not, what then? Why, I will not, for I cannot; 'tis ridiculous for you to pretend to dislike, where such a Fortune is settled on [1]you.
Son. Nay, Sir, I cannot tell what to say; if you will have it be so, it must be so; then I need not go indeed.
Upon this, the young Man yielded, and the Contracts being finished, they were married by Proxy, as great Men are; but the Consequence was, that he went to another Lady whom he loved, and had been in love with for some Years, and letting her know the Distress he was in, they consulted together what to do; and the result was this, they went together, and were privately married, and the Marriage fairly consummated, at least a Month before the other, and confirmed by good and substantial Witnesses.
But concealing it entirely from his Father, he wickedly went and married the other Lady too, in publick; by which indeed, he obtained an irreversible Settlement of his Father's Estate; so that when it came to a discovery, his Father could not take it away again, or disinherit him, the Estate being fully and fairly settled.
The Lady was indeed grosly injured and abused, for though she was fairly married, yet he was not; and upon a long, and to him, shameful Hearing, in a Court of Justice, the first Woman was declared his lawful Wife, only the other being left to take her Remedy against him at Law, which yet she would not do.
But the Consequence did not End here; for the Gentleman carried it so obligingly to her who he had not loved, and managed so dextrously, with her who he had both loved and married, that he brought them to consent to Poligamy, and they both lived with him, and that in one House too; he kept them indeed separate Apartments, and different Servants, but they carried it very well to one another, and lived easy, there being a plentiful Fortune among them.
But even in this best Side of the Story, what a Complication of Mischiefs was here? Here was Matrimonial Whoredom in the very Letter of it, and all introduced by a force upon Affection, (1.) By the Father unjustly forcing his Son to marry a Woman he did not love. (2.) By the Son wickedly cheating his Father in a seeming scandalous Compliance to get the Estate. (3.) By the Son again, basely and injuriously marrying a virtuous Lady, imposing himself upon her as a single Man, when he was already married to another Woman. And, lastly, by living in open Adultery, and keeping them both.
I could, as I have said, load you with Stories of this kind, I mean, of the forcing young People to marry against Inclination, and contrary to secret Obligation, and especially contrary to pre-ingaged Affections: But I must give you this Observation upon them, which, in effect, is equal to the repeating them, (viz.) that they would be almost every one of them tragical; especially if you will allow to have the destroying all the Comforts of Life, and all the Enjoyment that could be expected in the State of Marriage, be reckoned tragical; which indeed I do allow, and every whit as tragical as cutting of Throats.
To cross the Affections of young People in Marriage, especially where the proposed Object is not scandalous or extreamly despicable, is, I think, a little synonimous to Murther; it is a wilful Violence upon the Mind, and that, I think, equal or superior to a Violence upon the Body; it is a formal Ravishment upon Virtue, and that in so much the worse a manner, as it is done under the Form of Justice and Law, and is still made worse, in that it is without a Remedy.
If Violence is offered to the Chastity of a Woman, she has her recourse to the Law, and she will be redress'd as far as redress can be obtained. Where the Fact is irretrievable, the Man should be punished, and the Woman is protected by the Law from any farther Force upon her for the future. But here the Woman is put to Bed to the Man by a kind of forced Authority of Friends; 'tis a Rape upon the Mind, her Soul, her brightest Faculties, her Will, her Affections are ravished, and she is left without redress, she is left in the Possession of the Ravisher, or of him, who, by their Order, she was delivered up to, and she is bound in the Chains of the same Violence for her whole life.
Horrid abuse! Here is a sacred Institution violated, and, as I may say, prophaned an unjust Violence offered to Chastity and Modesty on one hand, and to Honesty on the other; who marries by the importuning Authority of the Parent, contrary to solemn and secret Engagements pass'd to another, contrary to Inclination, and contrary to pre-ingaged Affections, and, at last, contrary to Law.
Is not here a Matrimonial Whoredom? I think, if it allows any alteration in the Word, it is for the worse, and it should rather be called a Matrimonial Adultery. Nor is it very unusual for these Sorts of Matches to be pleaded as Excuses for all the wicked Excursions which are made after Marriage, either by one Side or other: The Man hangs about the Woman he loved before, follows her even after he is married to another; tells her, she is the Wife of his Affection, the other is only his Wife in Law, and by Form; that he is still faithful, and has reserved his Heart for her, though he has given his Hand to the other, who he is cruelly bound to call Wife.
It is not long since we had a publick Example of this, and that in the highest Class of Dignity, and where the Lady insisted upon her being as lawful a Wife, and as strictly Virtuous as the fairly and openly married Possessor; and even in the very Article of Death, refused to acknowledge it a Crime. But I would not, I say, bring Examples too near home, where they are publickly known, nor revive the Mistakes, which should rather be buried in the Grave with the Persons mistaken!
Forcing to marry, is, in the plain Consequences, not only a forcing to Crime, but furnishing an Excuse to Crime; I do not say, 'tis a just Excuse, for nothing can be a just Excuse for an unjust Action; but 'tis furnishing a plausible Pretence, to such Persons especially, who were but indifferently furnished with Virtue before, to justify the Excursions of their Vice: Now as a Man who is forced by any undue Restraint to enter into Obligations of Debt, give Bonds, Judgments, and such like Acknowledgments, meerly to obtain his Liberty, shall plead that Force in Bar of any Prosecution upon those Obligations; and the Law will allow the Plea, especially where the Debt also is just; so these Men plead the Breach made upon their Inclinations to justify the Breaches they make upon the lawful Restraints both of Human or Divine Laws, but with not the like Justice in the Plea.
It was a very unhappy Dialogue between a young Gentleman, and a neighbouring Clergyman, which I lately came to the knowledge of upon this very Subject, and which being much to the same Purpose as my present Argument points out, may not be improper here.
The young Gentleman had been dragged into such a Marriage, as I have just now mentioned, by the positive Command and Authority of a rich Uncle, who had a great Estate to give, and who had fixed upon his Nephew as his next Heir, being his Brother's only Son; it seems this Uncle had declared, he would make the young Man his Heir, if he married to his Mind.
The young Gentleman was too wise not to oblige his Uncle in every thing he could; but in this of Love he was very unkindly cross'd by the old Man, and indeed very unjustly too. The Case, as I received the Account, was as follows:
There was a young Lady in the Neighbourhood, who the old Man had proposed to his Nephew to marry; and her Friends being content to treat about it, the Terms of Estate and Settlements were agreed between them, and the Writings were ordered to be drawn; for that Lady had no inconsiderable Fortune neither; in the mean time, the Gentleman was admitted to wait upon the young Lady, (and, which does not often fall out indeed, where the Choice is made first by Grandfathers and Uncles, as was the Case here) they agreed; liked one another mighty well, and it went on even to loving one another, and that violently. In the mean time something presented it self with more Fortune, and the Uncle takes upon him to change his Mind, imposing the change too upon his Nephew, and so breaks off the Match; obliging him to go and wait upon a new Mistress, and this without so much as a Pretence of any other Objection, than that of a larger Portion offering in another. The young Gentleman was exceedingly disgusted at the Proposal, and used all possible Arguments with his Uncle, and employed all his Friends to persuade him to let the first Match go forward, as it had been carried on such a length, that he could not go off with Honour or Satisfaction to himself, the young Lady and he being mutually engaged in Affections as well as Interests.
But the old Man was inflexible and arbitrary, would not hear of any Reasons, but would be obeyed; and as for Affections, and such trifles as these, he slighted them to the last Degree, as things of no Consequence at all in the Case: Well, the young Gentleman had no Remedy; he was obliged, though with infinite Reluctance, to abandon his Mistress, a Lady of Merit and Beauty, Fortune and good Breeding, and every thing agreeable to him; and turn his Eyes where his Uncle directed, without any regard to all these, or to his own Inclination. But he did not do this without acquainting the Lady with the Force that was put upon him, and letting her know his unhappy Circumstances; offering to relinquish all the hopes of his Uncle's Fortune and Favour, and take her at all Hazards. But her Friends would not agree to that; nor would she consent without her Father, for then they might have been both Beggars. This being the Case, they parted, but with mutual Assurances however of AfFection, and of a farther Union, if the Uncle could be brought to any compliance.
But this was not all, for now the Uncle proposes the new Match to him, and sends him to wait upon the Lady. He had, with great difficulty, complied with the old Gentleman in the quitting the first Lady, who was Mistress of a thousand good Qualities, as well as of a good Fortune. But when he came to this new proposed Creature, his Stomach turned at the very Sight of her: She was not deformed indeed, but far from handsome; she had neither Wit or Manners, good Humour or good Breeding, beauty of Body or beauty of Mind; in a word, she was every way disagreeable, only that she had a vast Fortune,
However, the Uncle, that was as Arbitrary in the Negative before, was as Tyrannick in the Affirmative now; and without troubling you with the many Disputes between the Uncle and the Nephew upon that Head; his Entreaties, his humble Petitions against the Match, declaring (as he himself said) to his Uncle, that he had much rather be hang'd; yet he obliged him to take her, and take her he did, being loth to lose an Estate of near Two thousand Pounds a Year, besides Money, and, which was worse, having no other Dependence in the World.
After he was married, that is to say, coupled, for he often declared 'twas no lawful Marriage, but a Violence upon him; he made as bad a Husband as any Woman that knows she has nothing to be beloved for, and knows the Man hates her when he takes her, could expect: For being thus tyed to the four Apple Tree, married to his Aversion, and separated from the Object of his Affection, he abandoned himself to Company, to Wine, to Play, and at last to Women, and all kinds of Excess.
A Pious and Reverend Minister, not of his Parish, but of a neighbouring Parish, and of which the Gentleman was Patron, frequently took Opportunities to talk seriously to him upon the sad Subject of his extravagant Life, and with a Christian plainness, tho' with decency and respect too, especially as he was his Patron, he often press'd him to take up, to reform, and, at least, to regulate his Morals.
The Gentleman took all his Admonitions in good Part; but told him in so many Words, 'twas his Uncle had ruined him. Soul and Body; that he had a sober Education, and was as promising a young Fellow as any in the Country, till his Uncle ruined him, by forcing him to marry against his Will; Forcing him to abandon a Lady that he loved, and whose very Example added to the Influence she would have had upon his Affections, was enough to have kept him within Bounds all his Days; and then he related all the Circumstances of his Match, as I have related them above.
In vain the good Minister urged the Christian Arguments of Duty, the Command of God, the Scandal to his Person, the Ruin of his Fortunes, and all the other Arguments which Religion and Reason furnish so fully on such Occasions. His Answer was, What can I do; I have no Retreat, my Family is a Bedlam; I have no Body there to receive me but a She-Devil, always raving, and always quarrelling; that is neither quiet with Master or Servants, or even with her self; that has not one good Feature to render her agreeable, or one good Humour to render her tolerable? To be at home, says he, is odious to me, but to dwell there is intolerable; the Family is to me an Hospital to look into, but would be a Jayl to be confined to. Had I married the Woman I loved, said he, I had been as sober as I had been happy.
But, Sir, says the good Man, Religion is not to depend upon relative Circumstances, and we are not to serve God, as we have, or have not a comfortable Family.
That's true, says the Gentleman. But who can be religious in Hell? Who can think of God, or any thing that is good, when he is bound to Converse with every thing that's bad?
Such things are very afflicting indeed, says the grave Divine; but Afflictions should rather guide us to Heaven, than drive us from it. I have heard it spoken of in jest, That a bad Wife will lead a Man to Heaven.
And I speak of it in earnest, says the Gentleman, that mine will drive me to the Devil.
O, Sir, says the Minister, being greatly troubled to hear him talk at that rate, do not say so, I beseech you; you ought rather to consider it as an Affliction, and humble your Mind under it. But running out into Crime is heaping up Misery, and making bad worse.
Why, what can I do. Sir? says he. Who can tye himself down to his mortal Aversion?
There are many Christian Methods, says the Minister, which you may apply your self to, Sir, to make the Burthen lighter to you than it seems to be now.
What are they, says the Gentleman; I don't see into it; 'tis impossible to help me, unless some Miracle would intervene to deliver me.
Yes, yes, says the heavenly Counsellor, there are Ways: Pray to God, as you do at Church for your Enemies, that he would turn her Heart.
Turn her! says the Gentlemen. Pray to God to give me Courage to turn her out of Doors, and take in that blessed Creature I lov'd.
That can't be now. Sir, said the Minister, you must not pray to God to allow you to Sin against him.
Why then, says he, laughing, shall I pray to God to send a Devil for her.
The good Man could hardly forbear smiling at the Expression, but recovered himself, and said, Your smile tells me, Sir, you are speaking in Jest; so, I suppose, you don't expect I should answer that Question.
I know not what to say, it's half in Jest, half in Earnest. If it should be so, I don't know how I should be Hypocrite enough to cry for her.
Sir, says the Minister, I beg of you let us talk of nothing Prophane; you know we are to pray for our worst Enemies.
Nay, she's my worst Enemy, that's true, says he; but I can't promise to pray for her, and I'm sure I can never forgive her.
Why so, Sir, says the Divine, you are strictly commanded to forgive.
But not to forgive her, says he, because she never says, I repent, as the Scripture says, my Brother must do, or else I am not bound to forgive him.
But, Sir, says the Divine, you mistake the Text; you are bound to forgive your Enemies upon the Penalty of not being forgiven, and in the Command the Condition of his Repentance is not included.
I don't know, says the Gentleman, your Doctrine may be good, but I can't promise that I can observe the Rule; 'tis not in the Power of Nature to bear the Weight; it is unsufferable.
But, Sir, says the Minister, there is no need to run out to Excesses and Immoralities, because of a disagreeable Wife.
Sir, says the Gentleman, there's need to go abroad, when a Man can't stay at home.
I beg, Sir, says the good Reprover, you'll consider whether reforming your self would not reform your Wife.
I don't know as to that, says the Gentleman; but what if it should, I should be perhaps a little more quiet, but not at all more happy.
How do you mean? Sir, says the Minister, I don't understand that.
Why, what signifies reforming her, says the Gentleman; I hate her. If she was as religious as a Nun, and as holy as an Angel, it would be the same thing; she is my Aversion.
Now you have discovered the Matter, says the Minister, and the Truth is out; you must then change your Work, and instead of praying for your Wife, pray for your self.
What can I pray for, says the Gentleman.
Says the good Director, pray to God to turn your Aversions into a just Affection to your Wife.
What, says the Gentleman, must I pray to God to make me love the Devil.
No, Sir, but to make you love your Wife; and if you lov'd her as you do her you lost, you would not see half so many Faults in her as you do now.
It is not to be done, says the Gentleman, 'tis against Nature. Was ever any Gentleman in love with a Monster? I might pray to God, indeed, to metamorphose her, to turn the Devil into an Angel, Deformity into Beauty, Black into White; but I have no Rule set me to authorize such a Petition.
You are sadly exasperated. Sir, against your Wife, says the good Man with a melancholy Air. Why! I have seen your Lady; she is no Monster, no deformed Person, no Blackmoor; 'tis very sad to hear you talk thus.
No, no; though she's far from a Beauty, says the Gentleman, yet she's no Monster, I don't mean so; but she's a Monster in her Condition; she has a deformed Mind, a black Soul; there's nothing in her but what would oblige a Man to hate her.
You don't love her, says the Minister, that's the greatest Misfortune of it all.
No, no, that's true, I don't love her to be sure, says the Gentleman, who could?
It is a dreadful thing, says the serious good Man, you should marry a Lady of Fortune, and have such an Aversion to her. You must of necessity. Sir, repent of it, and reform it, or it may Ruin you for ever.
Nay, Sir, says the Gentleman, I have repented enough, if that will help me; I have repented from the first Moment. But as to reforming, I don't know what to say to that.
Why then, says the Minister, you have ruined your self, God help you, and assist you to change your Thoughts.
No, no. Sir, replies he, 'twas my Uncle ruined me; he knows it by this time; he murthered me; he suffers for it, I doubt not, before now. I am undone indeed, but I had no hand in it my self.
But, Sir, says the Minister, be pleased to consider the manner of Life you lead now. These Things are sad, and I lament your Condition heartily. But a bad Wife is no excuse for a bad Life.
I tell you, says the Gentleman, there's no living a good Life with her, so I should be damn'd if I stayed at home; for I must be always fighting and raging; I must live as some Drunkards do, with their Heads always hot. Who can stay at home with the Devil?
But, Sir, says the Minister, even living abroad, as you call it, you need not live an immoral Life; there are Gentlemen who have disagreeable Families, that do not presently run out into Excesses of Vice and Immorality.
What, says the Gentleman, about Women, you mean, I suppose that's all.
But that is Adultery, Sir, says the Minister, which is a dreadful thing to be thought of.
Why as to that, says the Gentleman, my Uncle must answer for it; he made me commit Adultery, I could not help it.
I don't understand how that can be, Sir, says the good Minister.
Why, 'twas all Adultery; the very Marriage was but a civil Whoring; 'twas all Adultery from the beginning; I was a married Man before.
Ay, Sir, says the Minister, there must be more in that then by a great deal than ever I understood before.
No, nothing more than you knew too; I say, 'twas a Civil Adultery, a Matrimonial Whoredom, to marry this Woman; for I belonged to another Woman, our Souls were married; we were united by the strictest Bonds of Faith and Honour; 'twas all breaking into the Rules of Justice, and the strictest Obligations that it was possible to lay upon one another; 'twas all Perjury and Adultery of the worst Sort. That old Wretch, my Uncle, made me an Adulterer, and 'tis but the same Sin continued in.
You really fright me, Sir, says the Minister. Why, this is a terrible Case: How could your Uncle force you? And why did not you declare at the Book, as you ought to have done, that you knew a lawful Impediment why you should not be joined together, for that you were firmly engaged to another, and the other to you; I dare say no Divine of our Church would have married you.
O, Sir, there was a Reason for that too, says the Gentleman, a Reason that no Body could withstand, a Reason enforced with an Estate of two thousand Pounds a Year, and the Reason all in the Power of a Tyrant, deaf to all Reasonings but that of Money; in short, there's the Reason that has undone me, and that made an Adulterer of me. What signifies it what I do now?
'Tis a dismal Case, Sir, says the Minister; but I beseech you to consider the Crime is not to be continued in and encreased;and if you sinned in Marrying, you have the less need to sin after Marriage. All evil Courses are to be repented of, and broken off.
Here the Minister, went on serious, like himself, and made very earnest Applications to him to change his Course of Life. But as that Part is remote from our present Purpose, I omit the repetition. Thus far is suited to the Case before me, namely, the miserable Consequences of Marriages entered into contrary to pre-ingaged Affections; forced Matches made by Relations, for the meer sake of Money, without regard to the Obligations that may be subsisting at the same time, and without regard to the Affection and Inclination of the Parties concerned. Who can call such Matches lawful Marriages? And what is the submitting to them less than a Matrimonial Whoredom?
As to the Matrimony that passes among Princes, Kings, Emperors, and such like, as I said at first, they seem to me to be rather Alliances and Political Agreements than Marriages, in which the Conjugal Affection is not considered as a material, or not as the most material Part. The Love of Princes is managed in a higher and superior Way; it seems to be a Consequence of that Marriage, not a Cause or Reason of it; and, for ought I know, as it is not often so extraordinary as in private Persons, so it is not so very often quite wanting; the Dignity and Quality of the Person has a great Influence upon their Behaviour, and, if they really have not abundance of Love, they often carry it as if they had an Excess of good Humour and Complaisance, which makes up a something almost equivalent to Love; and they are not so miserable in the deficiency as meaner People are.
However, they have their Unhappinesses too, and as they are not without their Uneasinesses, when the want of a mutual Affection breaks out, and gets the mastery of their Civilities; so, on the other hand, where an entire agreeing Affection meets in Persons of that high Rank, how superior is their Felicity to that of other People! How glorious is their Peace! How beautiful the conjugal Figure! How happy is the Life of such a Pair! So great an Addition is a mutual Affection to the happiness of Life, even in Persons of the highest Rank; it adds a Lustre to their Glory, and is, notwithstanding all other good Circumstances, the brightest Beam in all their illustrious Enjoyments. Such was the Life of two glorious Sisters, the late Queen Mary, and Queen Anne, of whom it is said, and I never heard it contradicted, that they were entire Mistresses of their Royal Consorts Affections, Queens of their Hearts, enjoyed a compleat conjugal Felicity, and furnished back the same Joy, making full Returns in kind. Nor is it the least Part of their Fame. But then it may be added to both those happy Couples, and which yet confirms what I am arguing upon, that they saw and loved before they married. They neither courted by Pictures, or married by Proxy; their Princes came over hither to view, chuse, and approve, and then married the Persons they chose; they courted in Person, and so, I think, all should do that expect to enjoy in Person.
How happy is it, and how good has Providence been, in directing human Affairs, that Matrimonial Love is a common Blessing! that the most perfect Enjoyment, and that which alone compleats all Enjoyments, and finishes the Happiness of Life, is an Enclosure laid open by the merciful Disposition of Heaven, for all his Creatures to share of; and the meanest honest Man, who is not press'd with Poverty, is oftentimes as compleatly happy, and always as capable of being so, as the greatest Prince, I mean, as to his conjugal Happiness.
Suitable Society is a heavenly Life. Take a view of Family Disorders; Houshold Strife and Contention, and join but to these the Matrimonial Vices I speak of, and you make the House a Hell, where Rage and Crime constitute the Place, and where the Flame burns without consuming, though not without encreasing; and where the Offences encrease the Punishment, and the Punishment encreases the Offence. But we must proceed.
- ↑ Here the Father began to be angry, and added some Threatnings to him, and particularly that his second Brother should have her, and all his Estate, so the young Gentleman complied.