_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.
_LONDON_: Printed for _WILLIAM PARKER_, at the M.DCC.XXX.
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._ 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.
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 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.
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