# A Treatise concerning the Use and Abuse of the Marriage Bed/Chapter 9

CHAP. IX.
Of Marrying at Unsuitable Years.
T is true, that the Laws of Matrimony have not prescribed us to Years, except in the Case of Infancy and Childhood, and the Reasons for that are obvious; but, as is mentioned before, where the Laws are Silent, there the general Rules of Reason and Religion take Place, and are Laws to Christians and to Men of Reason, as is the Case of our Limitations in Meats and Drinks. We are not limited or directed to what, when, or how much we shall eat or drink; but all Excesses in either are sinful; and so all scandalous and indecent Things among Christians are sinful and unlawful; and the Rules of Decency and Sobriety have certainly the Force of Laws to those who profess themselves Christians, as much as if they were expressly mentioned in the Decalogue it self.
Now to judge of Decency with respect to the disparity of Years in Persons marrying, I think we need go no farther than to bring it down to the original Word, Modesty, of which I took notice in the Introduction; and, I think, this may pass for a Maxim, that what can't be Modest is not Decent; or, if you will, transpose the Particles is and can, and read it thus: ​That what is not Modest cannot be Decent. If then Christians are to do Things of good Report, certainly Things not Decent and not Modest, are forbidden them. How the Practice of our modern Christians in this particular Article are either Modest, Decent, or of good Report, enquire within, and you shall know farther.
It is the Opinion of some, that after there is no more room to expert Children, it is not lawful to marry. Nor are the People who are of this Opinion, the looser or weaker Part of Mankind; but the serious, solid and religious, as also Persons of Judgment and Learning, and they ground it upon this very Text, Phil. iv, 8. of good Report; and upon comparing this with what is expressly mentioned in the Office of Matrimony, namely, that the principal End of Matrimony, as an Ordinance or Institution of God, is for the lawful Procreation of Children. Now to what End then, say they, is Matrimony, when the Person, that is, the Woman in particular, is past Child-bearing? All the rest can be nothing but what is not fit to name. The Office of Matrimony indeeds adds, that another Reason of Matrimony is to prevent Fornication, Remed. Amoris.
Now if the married Couple are past Children, one would think too, it should be time for them to quit the other Plea; and then let them tell us, if they can without Blushes, whether they have any Plea for Matrimony, that does not come within my Title, viz. Conjugal Lewdness, or Matrimonial Whoredom? There are many scandalous Things might be said upon this Subject, but I turn it all another Way, and had rather mention it by Way of Question; ​let the Parties answer it, if they can, without Breach of Decency. I dare say they will find it difficult; and yet there may be more Modesty in the Answer, than there is in the Thing it self too.
Suppose the Lady to be about Five and fifty; and the Question is first put to her. Whether she has any room to expect Children, or whether she thinks it possible, in the ordinary Usage or Course of Nature, that she should have any Children? And this Lady marries, whether a younger Person than her self, or not, tho' that is ordinarily the Case; but suppose, for the present, not a young Man, because I shall speak of that Part by it self. Now what can be a lawful or modest Reason for this Matrimony? or if we should say to this Lady, Pray, Madam, why did you marry? what could she say.
To say she married in hopes of Children, that could not be; 'tis foreclosed in the Beginning of the Question.
To say she married for one to look after her Affairs, that could not be; that's foreclosed too, by supposing her to be in good Circumstances, and to have her Estate all settled and firm.
To say she does it to avoid Fornication, Modesty, if she is Mistress of any, will forbid her talking in that manner.
She has, indeed, nothing to say, but to Blush and look down; to acknowledge that she did it to gratify (as the Poet expresses it modestly) a frailer Part; in short, she ought to say, that she married meerly to lie with a MAN. And is not this Matrimonial Whoredom? If not, what then must it be called, and by what Words, that will not be Criminal in themselves, can we express it?
​Suppose the Lady to have no Occasion to better her Fortune, her Circumstances being very good, and indeed, in such Cases they seldom better their Fortunes, but worst them.
Suppose her to have no want of a Steward or Manager, her Estate being a Jointure or Fee-Farm Rent, paid her Quaterly, or Interests of Stocks, or any other Certainty that takes those Excuses from her.
Suppose her to have no Occasion for advancing her Equipages or Retinue, or her splendid Way of Living; for these, and such as these, are usually made Excuses for all those scandalous Things, and much dirty Pains are taken by the guilty Ladies, to cover the Action from the just Reflections which the World casts upon them. But when they are examined to the Bottom,'tis evident, that, as the Prophet Isaiah says, the Covering is too narrow, and the Nakedness will appear.
But to come closer to the Case. Here is a Lady of fifty or sixty Years of Age, she has had Children in her younger Years, but has left Bearing for ten or twenty Years, and is past not the Probability only, but even the Possibility, according to Nature, of Bearing any more. But this Woman casting her vitiated Eyes upon a young Fellow of twenty-five or thirty Years old, perhaps her Servant, her Book-keeper, or her late Husband's Steward, or some meaner Person, she presently takes Care to let him know, that he may be admitted, if he will push at it. The young Fellow takes the Occasion, and, making his easy Interest, she marries him.
If any Man is displeased at my calling this by the Name of Matrimonial Whoredom, let ​him find a better Name for it, if he can, and tell me, what I shall call it, that is suitable ta the Thing it self. If it is not lewd and scandalous, nay, open declared Lewdness, what else must it be? what else can it be? I remember the Excuse a certain antient Lady gave for such a Marriage, had more Craft in it, tho' perhaps more Truth too, considering it Allegorically, than most of the lame Extenuations I generally meet with.
Dear Madam, says a neighbouring Gentlewoman, her Relation, to her, I hear your Ladyship is resolved to marry; I cannot say I believed it, for indeed I did not.
Why, Cousin, says the Lady, for such the was, why should you not believe it?
Nay, Madam, says she, because for your own sake. I would not have it be true.
Why, Cousin, says the Lady, why would you not have it be true?
O, Madam, says the Cousin, you live so purely; to be so easy, so happy, so free, as you are, methinks you cannot think of coming into Fetters again.
But, Cousin, says the Lady, I am not so easy as you think I am.
Dear Madam, says the Cousin, what can be more happy? why, you have nothing to trouble you, and no Body to controul you.
Well, Cousin, says the Lady, no more I won't, if I marry; for I am resolved to take a young Man, that has his Dependence upon me, and I am sure to preserve my Authority with him.
O, Madam, says the Cousin, pray God you don't find your self mistaken.
​How can I be mistaken, Cousin? says the Lady; why, I take him with nothing; I shall make a Gentleman of him.
Ay, Madam, though you do, says the Cousin, I have known so many underling Fellows turn Tyrants, and domineer and insult their Benefactresses, that I can never think of any thing, but of being betrayed and ill treated, when I hear of such Matches.
What, says the Lady, when one raises them from a Beggar, Cousin.
'Tis all one, Madam, says the Cousin, when once they get to Bed to their Mistresses, they never know themselves after it; they know no Benefactors.
Well, I must venture it, I think; why, I can't live thus, says the Lady.
Live thus! Madam, says the Cousin, why, don't you live as happy as a Queen?
Alas, Cousin, you don't know my Case, says the Lady; I am frighted to Death.
Frighted, Madam, with what? says the Cousin.
I don't know what, says the Lady,'tis the Devil, I think; ever since Sir William died almost, I have been disturbed in my Sleep, either with Apparitions or Dreams, I know not which. They haunt me to Death almost.
Why, Madam, says the Cousin, I hope Sir William don't Walk.
No, I think not: But, I think, I see him every now and then, says the Lady, and sometimes another Shape; 'tis Sir William, I think, in another Dress.
What does he say to your Ladyship? Does he offer to speak? says the Cousin.
​No, says the Lady, Sir William did not, but the other Appearance spoke to me, and frighted me to Death: Why, he asked me, to let him come to Bed to me; and, I thought, he offered to open the Bed, which waked me, and I was e'en dead with the Fright.
O, Madam, says the Cousin, then it was but a Dream, it seems; it was not the Devil.
No, it was a Dream; but it was the Devil, to be sure, says the Lady, for all that.
Well, but Madam, says the Cousin, if it was the Devil, what will a Husband signify?
Why, says the Lady, I can't bear to be alone in the Night, and be thus terrified.
Why, Madam, says the Cousin, will a Husband, and such a one as you propose, be able to drive the Devil away? I suppose your Woman lies with you; she is as able as he for such-a Thing; that is to say, she will be with you, and call for help, if need be; and he can do no more.
I do not know what to do, Cousin, not I, says the Lady, but, I think, I must have him; my Mind is so distracted I shall never be easy.
Nay, Madam, says the Cousin, then 'tis that makes you Dream so, it may be.
No, no, Cousin, says the Lady, don't have such Thoughts on me, pray.
Upon the whole, her Cousin found what Devil it was haunted her Ladyship; so she confessed, at last, that the Lady had good Reasons for marrying; but then she argued warmly against her taking the young Fellow; and after reckoning up a great many Gentlemen in the Neighbourhood, she press'd her earnestly not to marry below her self.
​Why, Madam, says the Cousin, a Gentleman will always be a Gentleman, and will treat you as you deserve, like a Lady, and like a Person of Distinction; but a Scoundrel knows not how to use a Lady well, when he has her.
Well, but Cousin, who would lay you out for me then? says the Lady.
Why, Madam, says the Cousin, there's your Neighbour, Sir Adam ———
Fie, Cousin, says the Lady, how can you talk so? Why, he's an old Man; I'll never take a Man older than my self.
Why, Madam, says the Cousin, when we are young, we always say, the Man should be at least, ten Years older than the Woman.
Ay, then; Then was Then, but Now's Now, Cousin. Why, sure, you don't think ———: What should I do with an old Man almost seventy?
Nay, Madam, says the Cousin, I don't know what your Ladyship should take any Man, old or young, for; I think you are perfectly happy as you are; but if you don't like him, there's Sir John ———, he is younger than your Ladyship by ten Years.
I wonder at you, Cousin, says the Lady; why, he is a sickly, decaying Gentleman; he is troubled with I know not how many Distempers.
No Distemper, Madam, says the Cousin, but the Gout.
Well, the Gout, says the Lady, that's enough; I have no mind to be a Nurse, I assure you.
Well, Madam, and will your Ladyship have this young Fellow then? I profess, 'tis scandalous.
​Why, I think I must, Cousin: He is a handsome, jolly, brisk Fellow' says my Lady; I cannot say but I like him.
Nay, if you want a brisk young Fellow, says the Cousin.
I don't say, I want him for that. But what would you have me take, a Skeleton?
There is a long Part of the Dialogue still behind, in which the old Lady confess'd some Things, in Confidence to her Cousin, which, though extraordinary well to my Purpose, will not so well bear reading; and therefore I omit them. But, in a word, the Lady took this young Fellow, and she was as Unhappy with him as could be imagined; she settled Two hundred Pounds a Year upon him for his Life; and, in a word, he broke her Heart; and he lived upon it afterward, till he anticipated the Income of it, sold his Life in it, spent the Money, and died in Jail; all which he richly deserved, for he was a Brute to her, however brutal her marrying of him was.
Now what was all this but Matrimonial Whoredom? she married him for nothing more or less but the meer Thing called a Bedfellow; and he took her to be her Servant, to give it no worse a Name, and to have a Settlement of Two hundred Pounds a Year for his Pains.
But we have grosser Examples than this, and that near our own Days, and within our own Knowledge. A certain Lady, and of a great Fortune too, at the Age of sixty-four, not many Days ago, took into her Service, as I may very justly call it, a young Clergyman of four and twenty, a handsom, jolly Gentleman, who might have had Wives enough, and suit​able to himself and such as might have made him happy, having a tolerable Benefice, which he lived comfortably upon.
But Avarice, and the View of enjoying seven hundred Pounds a Year, a Coach and four, with all the Addenda that a Man of Sense knew well how to Comfort himself with, prevailed with him to tye himself down to the sour Apple Tree, and he submits to the servile Drudgery, and marries her.
And here the Consequence fell hard on the Man's Side. First, she grew insufferably Covetous, and so Narrow, that, keeping her Revenue in her own Hands, she hardly allowed him Expences for his daily Subsistence: In the next Place, she was jealous of him to a kind of Madness and Distraction; and, in a word, he was forced to threaten to leave her, and turn her off again, before he could obtain any tolerable Usage.
Now what did this Lady marry for? What pretence could she possibly make for it, but this Matrimonial Whoredom that I speak of? It is hardly possible to assign any other Reason, at least, that will support it self or that any one can defend, She lived perfectly easy, had her Friends about her, the Estate was in her own hand, and she wanted no help to look after her Rents; for it's apparent, after her Marriage, she did it without him.
In short, 'tis evident the End of that scandalous Match was visible to the World; there could not be one modest Word said for it; at least, that could carry any Weight in it; and the Town have used her accordingly; for she is the Reproach of all Company, the Scorn and Scandal of her Sex, the Talk of all the ​Tea-Tables and Assemblies round about; the poor Drudge, who she has taken into pay, is pitied by every Body; and the Town where he lives, it is doubted, will make a Bonfire, when she is pleased to walk off, and congratulate him by all the Methods suitable to the Sense of his Deliverance.
When an old Man of seventy or eighty marries a young Girl of twenty, we have generally some Game among the common People about it. But here there may not be so much room for Scandal, because it has often happened, that Men have had Children at a very great Age; and there may be extraordinary Reasons for them to desire Children; as particularly for the enjoying Estates, to which they have no Heirs. But be the Reasons what they will, the Thing is unquestioned because lawful, and the having Children is possible; so that the great End and Reason of Matrimony is not destroyed.
But what shall we say when two antient People, the Woman past Children, and the Man also: What do these join together for? And which of the Ends of Matrimony are to be answered in their Conjunctions? I observe, the World are generally reconciled to those Matches because of the Parity of Circumstances; and they ordinarily express themselves thus: Well, let them marry, there's no great disproportion in their Age; ay, ay, why should they not marry? they are very well match'd, the Man's almost Threescore, and the Woman is not much less, they'll do very well together; so there's little or no Scandal rais'd here, I mean, in the Mouths of the common Censurers of such Things.
​But I differ from the common Opinion here exceedingly; and I must say, that, in my Opinion, this is as much or more, a Matrimonial Whoredom than the other. The Reason is the same; the Occasion of Matrimony is the same, with this difference notwithstanding, and to the Disadvantage of the latter Case; for that, in the first Case, the lewd Part lay wholly upon the Woman, here it lies upon them both: where the old Lady married the young Man, the Matrimonial Whoredom could lye only on her Side; but here the equality of Years makes an equality of Guilt; there was a single Shame, here a double; and I am much mistaken, if two being guilty makes the Offence less than one.
What can two People at those Years say for marrying, seeing they know they can have no Children? It must be for the frailer Part, which it is not my Business to name; and 'tis only contrived, in a manner, less exposed to the common Scandal of the Times; the Woman has her wanton Ends answered, without the Reproach of taking a young Fellow to Bed to her, on the Account mentioned before, and only is content to sleep with an older Bedfellow, to avoid the Scandal.
But there is a worse Case in this scandalous Matrimony yet behind, and this is on the Man's Part; a flagrant Example of which take as follows: A——— B———, a grave Citizen, and in the flourishing Part of his Years, though not in his Prime, not a Youth, being about Forty, buries his Wife; he has three or four Children by his former Lady, and cares not to have the Charge of any more, or, to use his Words, would not wrong his Children, but has ​a kind of an Occasion, which shall be nameless, and he must marry.
To answer both these Ends, and to join the Wise and the Wicked together, he will, in the abundance of his Prudentials, take a Wife that shall be sure to be pass'd Children; so gratifying the Beast and the Christian both at once. Upon this, he singles out a grave motherly Widow, who he took to be about Five and fifty, and indeed, by her Face, she seemed to be no less.
The Lady had as much Occasion for a Husband as Mr. B——— had for a Wife; whether it was upon the same Motive, History is silent in that Part, and so am I; but, it seems, she had been given to understand what Foot it was Mr. B——— married upon; and not being willing to disappoint him, or rather, not willing to lose him, she call'd her self an old Woman, and her Beauty concurring, admitted what few Widows are pleas'd to stoop to, (viz.) that she was, as above, near Five and fifty.
Being thus happily married, and Mr. B——— wrapt up in his Enjoyments, lo, to his great disappointment, the Lady proves with Child, and, in the due Course of Time, brings him Twins, a fine Boy and Girl; and after all this, as I say, in the due Course of Time, three more.
This unlook'd-for, undesired Fruitfulness, moves him to enquire a little farther; and, searching the Register at the Birth of his Twins, he finds, to his surprize, that truly Fame, and a course Countenance, had wronged his Wife about ten Years, and that, instead of being Five he fifty, she was not much above Four and forty.
​Under this Disappointment, his Continence betrayed the Occasion of his Marriage; for, as above, he had no less than five Children by her, which, her Fortune being not extraordinary, ruined the Fortunes of his first Children, who he pretended to have so much Concern for. This was the End of Matrimonial Whoring with Mr. B———. And now he is ashamed to talk publickly of his own Shame, as well the Reasons of his Marriage, as the Management of it, in which he has indeed this Advantage of the Satyr, that his Discoveries are too gross to be described, as his Language is to be repeated; so he must pass unreproved for the Reasons given in Page 9.
I meet with so many of these Sorts of lewd Marriages, that I can hardly refrain giving a List of them, saving, that they come so near home, and the Persons will so necessarily be pointed out by the Descriptions, that I am loth to draw Pictures that every Body must know. But something must be said to shew the Variety.
There lived an eminent City Gentleman, if that Language may be allowed to be good in Heraldry, not a Mile from St. Mary A———, who having lost a good Wife, went a Fortune-hunting for another; but openly declared, he must have an additional Qualification too, viz. she must be pass'd Children.
N. B. He had a House full of Children already, and but a moderate Fortune; so he pretended to marry again, to better the Fortunes of his Children.
An intimate grave Friend of his, and a real Friend to his Fame, as well as to his Family, took the freedom to expostulate upon this Sub​ject with him very freely, and it occasioned the following short Discourse, according to the old English Custom, which Foreigners laugh at us for, and which we have little to say; for their Salutes were Jack and Tom, though Men in Years, and Men of Figure, one almost an Alderman.
Says Tom, his grave Friend, to Jack, Pr'ythee, Jack, what's all this I hear of you? Why, you make all your Friends blush for you.
Jack. Blush for me! What do you mean? I don't blush for my self, what need they blush for me?
Tom. Why, you run to every Hole and Corner, to every Church and Meeting-house, Ball, and Assembly, a Wife-hunting, and, as they say, a Fortune-hunting too; that's worse.
Jack. Nay, that's false too; I have indeed talk'd of marrying, but not like that neither.
Tom. But, what need you talk so much of it? There are Women enough; 'tis but Ask and Have, Pick and Choose; the Market's on our Side; you know the Ladies have the worst of it. You may have a Wife any where.
Jack. I don't find it so, I assure you.
Tom. Why so it should seem; but how can that be, Jack? A Man in your Circumstances can't want a Wife.
Jack. Not such good Circumstances neither. Han't I got a House full of Children?
Tom. Well, and what then? And an't you reckoned a Ten thousand Pound Man, an Alderman's Fellow?
​Jack. Ay, but I am, perhaps, a little too nice in choosing too: I'm not so easily pleased, it may be, as you imagine.
Tom. What, you want another young Wife, as pretty and as pleasant as that you lost. One would think you should be past that, Jack. Why, you are turn'd of Forty.
Jack. Only that you happen to be quite mistaken; and that I look just the contrary Way.
Tom. What do you mean by that? Explain your self, what is it you drive at?
Jack. Why, to be plain with you, the Case is this: Money I would have, that's the first thing; but then I have Children enough.
Tom. What! grown Miser already. What, would you marry an old ugly overgrown Widow of Seventy, only for her Money? Han't you Money enough?
Jack. No, no. Look ye, Tom, I an't the Man the World takes me for; I am well enough, but I am far from rich; and I have seven Children, you know; and that's enough to make a rich Man die poor.
Tom. Don't Halt before you're Lame; you are worth Ten thousand Pounds, at least; every Body knows that; and a thriving Man too.
Jack. No, no, I an't so rich; but if I was, what's that to be divided into seven Parts? And what must the eldest Son do? Must he have nothing more than the youngest Sister? You know I'm a Freeman.
Tom. Well, so you want a Wife with a Fortune, that her Money may go to your Children. What old Fool must that be?
Jack. Well, that is the Fool I want; however, Tom, you know I am a Father.
​Tom. But, what if she should have more Children of her own, Jack? What then?
Jack. No, no, ware Hawk; that's my Business? I'll take care of that.
Tom. What, you will have a Wife pass'd Children then. Is that it?
Jack. Yes, yes, that's it indeed. But I would not have a very Old one, neither.
Tom. I don't think that's a lawful Marriage, Jack.
Jack. Why so? pray.
Tom. Why, where do you read, that any of the Ends and Reasons of Matrimony is to pick out a Wife, only for her Money? that is not taking a Wife, Jack, 'tis Matrimonial Plunder, 'tis robbing a Woman, only within the Pale of the Church.
Jack. Well, but to tell you the Truth, Tom, I care not a Farthing whether I have much Money with her, or no, if I like the Woman.
Tom. Well, now you speak Bravely and Gallantly; I like that. But, hark ye, Jack, what's come of the Story of the seven poor Children? And where's the Father you talk'd of?
Jack. Why, yes, I'm the Father still; for I stick by the Point. I am resolved to have no more Children.
Tom. So you'll have the old Hag, without the Money; nay, that's worse than all the rest. What! an old Woman, and no Money! that's the Devil, Jack. You won't be such a Fool, I'm sure.
Jack. Why, you talk madly. I think I may have a Woman past Child-bearing, and not have an old Hag, I hope.
​Tom. Pr'ythee, tell me, what will please you; and then a Body may look out for you.
Jack. Why, a good jolly handsome well-bred Woman, about Forty-eight to Fifty.
Tom. A Widow, I suppose; there's no venturing upon a Maid under Fifty, not in your Case.
Jack. No, I would have her be a Widow that has Children, but has done Childing for seven or eight years.
Tom. And she must be Jolly and Handsome, you say.
Jack. I would not have her Old and Ugly too, Tom, that's too hard.
Tom. Well, I believe I know what you want, and what you mean. But, pr'ythee, Jack, be honest; methinks you are all wrong: What should you marry for?
Jack. Why not? pray.
Tom. I'll tell you why not, if you are willing to be serious. You had a fine charming Lady, almost twenty Years, the brought you a good Fortune, and has left you seven fine charming Children, your two eldest Daughters are fine beautiful young Ladies, and Marriageable, 'twould look very hard to bring a Mother-in-law among them all. It will make a sad House, Jack, it will ruin your Children.
Jack. Not at all. My two eldest Sons are in Business. One I have placed out to an Italian Merchant, and one's in my own Counting-house: And my two Daughters will go to their Aunt, their Mother's Sister, who will be glad to have them.
Tom. And what must the three young Ones do?
​Jack. O, they'll do well enough till they grow up.
Tom. But, where's the Father, now? Jack. What's come of the Father you talked of?
Jack. Why, what's the Matter?
Tom. Why, take home a Mother-in-law, disperse your Family, and turn your Children out of Doors, as they grow up; and all this for a new Wife. Is this like a Father? Jack.
Jack. No, no; I won't turn them out of Doors for her, neither.
Tom. That's a Jest, you know better; you must turn them out of Doors, or they'll turn her out of Doors, that you may depend upon; and the last would be hard too.
Jack. But what Necessity is there for either of them?
Tom. The best Answer to that, Jack, is; what Necessity can you have to marry at all?
Jack. I don't know, I have no Necessity indeed; but I am alone, without a Wife: I want One to guide my House, and govern the Family.
Tom. How can that be? when you have two young Ladies, Women grown, that are perfectly fit for it, and shew you, that they very well understand it.
Jack. That's very true; but they won't be always with me, they'll marry. One of them is bespoke already.
Tom. Well, 'tis time enough then: And, besides, perhaps, before they are both gone, your two youngest may be grown up.
Jack. That's true. But 'tis not like the government of a Wife in a Family, there's no Authority.
​Tom. How d'ye mean? You would not give the Authority over your Children to a Wife; and you must do that, or turn them out of Doors, or, as I said above, you must give the Children Authority over your Wife, and that will never do; so, in short, your House will be a Bedlam, and you will be undone: For if once the Family-Peace is gone, the Man's undone; that I take for granted.
Jack. Well, I must venture it, I think, for I must have a Wife to direct Things; there must be Conversation and Confidence, and abundance of Things which a Family requires, that make a Wife absolutely necessary.
Tom. Come, Cousin, Jack, don't mince the Matter. You don't want a Wife, but you want a Woman.
Jack. You are quite out, Tom; you mistake the Matter.
Tom. Well, well, you may call it what you will, but you'll never make the World understand you any otherwise.
Jack. I can't help that; I am to understand for my self. I don't value the World. I tell you, that Part is not so much as in my Head.
Tom. Well, if it is not in your Head, 'tis somewhere else then, I tell you; no Body can, nor ought to take it any otherwise; 'tis a preposterous Thing, 'tis against the Laws of God and Nature.
Jack. What do you mean by that? What Law is it against? pray.
Tom. Why, you force me to be serious with you, whether I will or no. I tell you, the Marriage you propose, though it is not against the express Letter of the Law, 'tis against the in​tent and meaning of it, 'tis all Vice and Wickedness, and, I am sure, that is against the meaning of all Law or Rule that a Christian ought to walk by.
Jack. You surprize me. Pray, explain your self.
Tom. Why, the Thing explains it self: To marry a Wife on purpose to have no Children! Why, any Body knows the meaning of that. I am plain, and I explain my self thus: As to marry her, to give your Children her Money, was a Matrimonial Plunder; so to marry her, to have no Children at all, is a Matrimonial Lewdness; 'tis only a kind of legal Whoring, Jack, you may call it what you will; I tell you, it's Vice, under the Protection of the Church, as I said, t'other was Robbery.
Jack. You are very plain with me, that's true. But, I tell you, there is no such Thing in my Thoughts.
Tom. And, I tell you, whatever you may persuade me to, you will never make any Man else believe it. The Notion of directing your House, governing your Family, Conversing, Confidence, and such Stuff as that; all these are Pretences, and no more; the Thing is a Woman, a Woman, I tell you, and nothing else.
Jack. Nay, if you will make it be so whether I will or no, I can't help that.
Tom. Why then take a Wife in the ordinary Way of suitable Years, like a Christian.
Jack. What, and fill the House again with a new Family? No, that won't do at all.
Tom. Why, if you won't marry like a Christian, then live unmarried like a Christian. Pr'ythee be a Christian one Way or t'other. ​But to marry, and yet resolve to make it impossible to have Children; there's nothing of the Christian in that; any more than you may call your self a Christian, and live like a Heathen.
Jack. You are very severe, Tom; very rigid.
Tom. I love plain Dealing; I am for your doing honestly, either one Way or t'other. If you are in a streight for a Woman, take one in the Name of God, and in the Way which God has appointed. But to pretend a thousand Things, and then marry with Views contrary, and inconsistent with the Ordinance it self, that's all Grimace; the visible Occasion is Lewdness; scandalous Lewdness, and you cannot carry it off, let your Pretences be what they will.
This Discourse ended soon after this. But the Citizen was not so convinced of the Justice of his Friend's Reasoning, as to guide him to the wiser Medium, and not to marry at all: But, on the contrary, he pursued the brutal Part, took the Woman, gratified his grosser Appetite, in spite of Argument. In a word, he committed the Matrimonial Abomination I am so justly exposing. And he felt the Consequences of it many Ways: As, (1.) He destroyed his Constitution, ruin'd his Health. (2.) He was Blasted, as it were, from Heaven; for he got a Woman of an unquiet furious Temper, that harass'd him with her Tongue, made a Bedlam of his House, and broke the Peace of his Family. (3.) Endeavouring to oblige One that knew not how to be obliged, he disobliged all his Children; proved an unkind Father, and that drove them from him, some one Way, some ​another; and, in a word, he ruined the whole Comfort of his Life: and such is the Fruit of Matrimonial Whoredom.
To conclude. This is frequently the Occasion of great Mischiefs in Families where it happens; it creates constant Feuds, and, above all things, Jealousy, indeed it has a direct tendency to it; 'tis as natural for an old Man to be jealous of a young Wife, and an old Woman to be jealous of a young Husband, as it is for People to be afraid of Fire or Thieves, where there is no Body left at home to look after the House. Nor are such People at all beholden to the World's Good-will. Nothing is more frequent than for the People, by their common Discourse, Flouts, Jeers, and Gibing, to promote those Jealousies, and (if the married Couple have no more Wit) to raise and encrease them.
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