Out of Civility to the Man, I will begin first with our own Sex. I am ashamed, and blush to speak it, how many lewd Creatures there are of our Sex both in the Town and Country; were there not so many Whores, there would be more Wives. The vicious Sort of Men are by them kept from marrying; for it is mere Virtue must confine a Man to a married State, where he has an uninterrupted Converse with Womankind as seldom and as often as he pleases, without Confinement to any particular Person or Temper. This made a Nobleman say, that Two Things could never be wanted in London, a Wife and a Watch; because one may have a Whore, and see what it is a Clock, at the End of every Street.
The numerous Company of Strumpets and Harlots, in London, makes the lewd Sort of Men out of Love with Matrimony. Nay, I have heard them say, There is no Woman honest after the Age of Fifteen. I know they are Lyars; but, I am sorry to say it, they have too much Reason to be out of Love with our Sex. Sometimes I myself am almost of their Opinion, especially when I consider how shamefully some lewd Women prostitute themselves to every rascally Porter and Boy: And I think it more abominable in the Women than the Men, for Nature has given us more Modesty; and, did not the Whores ply in the Streets, the Leacher could never stumble over them.
The Men, they are grown full as effeminate as the Women; we are rivalled by them even in the Fooleries peculiar to our Sex: They dress like Anticks and Stage-Players, and are as ridiculous as Monkies: They sit in monstrous long Perukies, like so many Owls in Ivy-Bushes; and esteem themselves more upon the Reputation of being a Beau, than on the substantial Qualifications of Honour, Courage, Learning, and Judgment. If you heard them talk, you would think yourself at a Gossipping at Dover, or that you heard the learned Confabulation of the Boys in the Piazza's of Christ's-Hospital. Did you ever see a Creature more ridiculous than that Stake of Humane Nature which dined the other Day at our House, with his great long Wig to cover his Head and Face, which was no bigger than an Hackney-Turnep, and much of the same Form and Shape? Bless me how it looked! just like a great Platter of French Soup with a little Bit of Flesh in the Middle. Did you mark the beau Tiff of his Wig, what a deal of Pains he took to toss it back, when the very Weight thereof was like to draw him from his Seat? Did you not take Notice how he replenished his Snout with Snuff, and what Pains he took to let us know that it was Vigo? Did you not wonder at his learned Discourse of the Womens Accoutrements, from the Top-knot to the Laced Shoe; and what Lectures he read on the Fan, Masque, and Gloves? He understood Ribbons and Silk as well as a Milliner and Mercer, and was a perfect Chymist in Beauty Washes and Essences: In short, Madam, did you ever see a more accomplished Coxcomb in all your Life?
Now, my Dear, though I must acknowledge our Sex to be extraordinary vicious, we will not knock under-board to the Men; we have yet more Virtue left among us than they can match: For though, to our great Shame, we are degenerated in one Respect, to our Commendation we are improved in another: We never had, in any Age, Women of better Parts, of greater Virtue, and more Knowledge. Learning and Wit seem to have forsaken the Masculine Dominions, and to have taken up their Abode in the Feminine Territories: And, indeed, the Men are so wickedly degenerated, that Learning, Virtue, Courage, and Conduct seem to be unnecessary Accomplishments; for they signify nothing as to their Preferment, but they make their Fortunes as they make their Wives, by Money. And truly, Madam, we have no great Occasion to boast that we have supplanted the Men of their Virtue, for we have got that from them which did them no Service, and which we must conceal, or else be laughed at for Shewing it. However, Madam, let us admire Virtue, which gives that inward Contentment, which all the Riches of the World cannot purchase.
Politica. I think, my dear Sophia, the Parents are as much the Cause of Celibacy as the Children, by breeding them above their Quality and Estates. I give myself for an Example. You know my Father was a Tradesman, and lived very well by his Traffick; and, I being beautiful, he thought Nature had already given me Part of my Portion, and therefore he would add a liberal Education, that I might be a compleat Gentlewoman; away he sent me to the Boarding-School, there I learned to dance and sing, to play on the Bass-Viol, Virginals, Spinnet and Guitair. I learned to make Wax-work, Japan, paint upon Glass, to raise Paste, make Sweet-meats, Sauces, and every thing that was genteel and fashionable. My Father died, and left me accomplished, as you find me, with three-hundred Pounds Portion; and, with all this, I am not able to buy an Husband. A Man, that has an Estate answerable to my Breeding, wants a Portion answerable to his Estate; an honest Tradesman, that wants a Portion of three-hundred Pounds, has more Occasion of a Wife that understands Cookery and Housewifery, than one that understands Dancing, and Singing, and Making of Sweet-meats. The Portion, which Nature gave me, proves now my Detriment; my Beauty is an Obstacle to my Marriage; an honest Shop-keeper cannot keep a Wife to look upon. 'Beauty, say they, is like a Tavern Bush, it is hung out in the Face to shew what Commodity is to be sold;' it is but like an Honey-pot, which will fill a House with Bees and Wasps; and the poor Tradesman, that has such a Wife, will dream of nothing but Horns, as long as he has her; so that, Madam, I conclude, our Parents are great Causes of this Evil, in educating their Children beyond their Estates.
Sophia. But how would you order the Matter with one in my Circumstances? My Father, when I was born, was a Gentleman of a plentiful Estate, and gave me Education according to the Portion he designed me; but he, being a true Englishman, joined with the Duke of Monmouth in the Recovery of our Rights, which, he then thought, were in Danger; and, in that Enterprise, he lost his Life and Estate, and so I lost my Portion, and have nothing to subsist on, but the Charity of my good Aunt. I can marry nothing but a Gentleman, and very few, if any of them, are inclined to marry the poor Remains of an honourable and virtuous Family: What can I do?
Politica. Truly, my Dear, our Cases are both desperate; we cannot come up to good Estates, and Gentlemen of good Estates will not come down to us. I have often wondered, that there are no compulsive Laws inforcing Matrimony, but that, instead thereof, there are Laws discouraging of Marriage, as is the Act for Births and Burials, especially to the poorer Sort of People, who are generally the greatest Breeders; for, by this Act, when there is a certain Charge to a Family, there is a certain Duty to the Queen. Now, if there was a Law inforcing of Matrimony, it would more effectually answer the End of her Majesty's pious Proclamations for the Encouragement of Virtue, and for the Suppressing of all Manner of Immorality and Profaneness. For such a Law would put a Stop to Abundance of Whoring; it would make the Women virtuous, on Purpose to get good Husbands, and the Men thrifty and diligent in their Callings, in order to maintain their Families. The Ruin both of Body, Soul, and Estate proceeds from this Omission in our Laws. I am sure, a Law of this Nature would not only be acceptable in the Sight of God, but it would be very advantageous to the Kingdom.
Sophia. I am very well satisfied in the Truth of what you say, but, at the same Time, I do not think a Law compulsive of Marriage reasonable in all Respects; there are a Sort of Monsters of Men, called Women-haters; these Brutes would be destroyed by this Act. Nature also has excluded, by its Deficiencies, some Men from the State of Matrimony; others are of such monstrous ill Humours, that they can match no where, but in the Nunnery of Billingsgate; therefore, Madam, if you get this Act passed, it must contain many Proviso's and Exceptions.
Politica. Not in the least; I would have it a genial compulsive Act, after this Manner: Every Batchelor, at the Age of twenty-four Years, should pay such a Tax to the Queen; suppose it twenty Shillings per Annum for the meanest Rank of Men, and what the Parliament thinks fit for those of higher Degree. Every Widower, which has been so upwards of one Year, and is under the Age of fifty Years, to pay the same Sum: Now, according to Computation, we have seven Millions of Men in England, and, suppose two Millions of the seven be Batchelors and Widowers, qualified as before, according to their several Ranks and Qualities taxed by Act of Parliament, they will pay into the Queen's Exchequer, yearly, the Sum of two Millions five-hundred thousand Pounds Sterling, which will be almost enough to defray the Charge of the War by Land and Sea.