to effect her intended discovery.
The sagacious reader will not from this simile imagine these poor
people had any apprehension of the design with which Mrs. Wilkins
was now coming towards them; but as the great beauty of the simile may
possibly sleep these hundred years, till some future commentator shall
take this work in hand, I think proper to lend the reader a little
assistance in this place.
It is my intention, therefore, to signify, that, as it is the nature
of a kite to devour little birds, so is it the nature of such
persons as Mrs. Wilkins to insult and tyrannize over little people.
This being indeed the means which they use to recompense to themselves
their extreme servility and condescension to their superiors; for
nothing can be more reasonable, than that slaves and flatterers should
exact the same taxes on all below them, which they themselves pay to
all above them.
Whenever Mrs. Deborah had occasion to exert any extraordinary
condescension to Miss Bridget, and by that means had a little soured
her natural disposition, it was usual with her to walk forth among
these people, in order to refine her temper, by venting, and, as it
were, purging off all ill humours; on which account she was by no
means a welcome visitant: to say the truth, she was universally
dreaded and hated by them all.
On her arrival in this place, she went immediately to the habitation
of an elderly matron; to whom, as this matron had the good fortune
to resemble herself in the comeliness of her person, as well as in her
age, she had generally been more favourable than to any of the rest.
To this woman she imparted what had happened, and the design upon
which she was come thither that morning. These two began presently
to scrutinize the characters of the several young girls who lived in
any of those houses, and at last fixed their strongest suspicion on
one Jenny Jones, who, they both agreed, was the likeliest person to
have committed this fact.
This Jenny Jones was no very comely girl, either in her face or
person; but nature had somewhat compensated the want of beauty with
what is generally more esteemed by those ladies whose judgment is
arrived at years of perfect maturity, for she had given her a very
uncommon share of understanding. This gift Jenny had a good deal
improved by erudition. She had lived several years a servant with a
schoolmaster, who, discovering a great quickness of parts in the girl,
and an extraordinary desire of learning- for every leisure hour she
was always found reading in the books of the scholars- had the
good-nature, or folly- just as the reader pleases to call it- to
instruct her so far, that she obtained a competent skill in the Latin
language, and was, perhaps, as good a scholar as most of the young men
of quality of the age. This advantage, however, like most others of an
extraordinary kind, was attended with some small inconveniences: for
as it is not to be wondered at, that a young woman so well
accomplished should have little relish for the society of those whom
fortune had made her equals, but whom education had rendered so much
her inferiors; so it is matter of no greater astonishment, that this
superiority in Jenny, together with that behaviour which is its
certain consequence, should produce among the rest some little envy
and ill-will towards her; and these had, perhaps, secretly burnt in
the bosoms of her neighbours ever since her return from her service.
Their envy did not, however, display itself openly, till poor Jenny,
to the surprize of everybody, and to the vexation of all the young
women in these parts, had publickly shone forth on a Sunday in a new
silk gown, with a laced cap, and other proper appendages to these.
The flame, which had before lain in embryo, now burst forth. Jenny
had, by her learning, increased her own pride, which none of her
neighbours were kind enough to feed with the honour she seemed to
demand; and now, instead of respect and adoration, she gained
nothing but hatred and abuse by her finery. The whole parish
declared she could not come honestly by such things; and parents,
instead of wishing their daughters the same, felicitated themselves
that their children had them not.
Hence, perhaps, it was, that the good woman first mentioned the name
of this poor girl to Mrs. Wilkins; but there was another
circumstance that confirmed the latter in her suspicion; for Jenny had
lately been often at Mr. Allworthy's house. She had officiated as
nurse to Miss Bridget, in a violent fit of illness, and had sat up
many nights with that lady; besides which, she had been seen there the
very day before Mr. Allworthy's return, by Mrs. Wilkins herself,
though that sagacious person had not at first conceived any
suspicion of her on that account; for, as she herself said, "She had
always esteemed Jenny as a very sober girl (though indeed she knew
very little of her), and had rather suspected some of those wanton
trollops, who gave themselves airs, because, forsooth, they thought
themselves handsome."
Jenny was now summoned to appear in person before Mrs. Deborah,
which she immediately did. When Mrs. Deborah, putting on the gravity
of a judge, with somewhat more than his austerity, began an oration
with the words, "You audacious strumpet!" in which she proceeded
rather to pass sentence on the prisoner than to accuse her.
Though Mrs. Deborah was fully satisfied of the guilt of Jenny,
from the reasons above shown, it is possible Mr. Allworthy might
have required some stronger evidence to have convicted her; but she
saved her accusers any such trouble, by freely confessing the whole
fact with which she was charged.
This confession, though delivered rather in terms of contrition,
as it appeared, did not at all mollify Mrs. Deborah, who now
pronounced a second judgment against her, in more opprobrious language
than before; nor had it any better success with the bystanders, who
were now grown very numerous. Many of them cried out, "They thought
what madam's silk gown would end in"; others spoke sarcastically of
her learning. Not a single female was present but found some means
of expressing her abhorrence of poor Jenny, who bore all very
patiently, except the malice of one woman, who reflected upon her
person, and tossing up her nose, said, "The man must have a good
stomach who would give silk gowns for such sort of trumpery!" Jenny
replied to this with a bitterness which might have surprized a
judicious person, who had observed the tranquillity with which she
bore all the affronts to her chastity; but her patience was perhaps
tired out, for this is a virtue which is very apt to be fatigued by
exercise.
Mrs. Deborah having succeeded beyond her hopes in her inquiry,
returned with much triumph, and, at the appointed hour, made a
faithful report to Mr. Allworthy, who was much surprized at the
relation; for he had heard of the extraordinary parts and improvements
of this girl, whom he intended to have given in marriage, together
with a small living, to a neighbouring curate. His concern, therefore,
on this occasion, was at least equal to the satisfaction which
appeared in Mrs. Deborah, and to many readers may seem much more
reasonable.
Miss Bridget blessed herself, and said, "For her part, she should
never hereafter entertain a good opinion of any woman." For Jenny
before this had the happiness of being much in her good graces also.
The prudent housekeeper was again dispatched to bring the unhappy
culprit before Mr. Allworthy, in order, not as it was hoped by some,
and expected by all, to be sent to the House of Correction, but to
receive wholesome admonition and reproof; which those who relish
that kind of instructive writing may peruse in the next chapter.
Chapter 7
Containing such grave matter, that the reader cannot laugh once
through the whole chapter, unless peradventure he should laugh at
the author
When Jenny appeared, Mr. Allworthy took her into his study, and
spoke to her as follows: "You know, child, it is in my power as a
magistrate, to punish you very rigorously for what you have done;
and you will, perhaps, be the more apt to fear I should execute that
power, because you have in a manner laid your sins at my door.
"But, perhaps, this is one reason which hath determined me to act in
a milder manner with you: for, as no private resentment should ever
influence a magistrate, I will be so far from considering your
having deposited the infant in my house as an aggravation of your
offence, that I will suppose, in your favour, this to have proceeded
from a natural affection to your child, since you might have some
hopes to see it thus better provided for than was in the power of
yourself, or its wicked father, to provide for it. I should indeed
have been highly offended with you had you exposed the little wretch
in the manner of some inhuman mothers, who seem no less to have
abandoned their humanity, than to have parted with their chastity.
It is the other part of your offence, therefore, upon which I intend
to admonish you, I mean the violation of your chastity;- a crime,
however lightly it may be treated by debauched persons, very heinous
in itself, and very dreadful in its consequences.
"The heinous nature of this offence must be sufficiently apparent to
every Christian, inasmuch as it is committed in defiance of the laws
of our religion, and of the express commands of Him who founded that
religion.
"And here its consequences may well be argued to be dreadful; for
what can be more so, than to incur the divine displeasure, by the
breach of the divine commands; and that in an instance against which
the highest vengeance is specifically denounced?
"But these things, though too little, I am afraid, regarded, are
so plain, that mankind, however they may want to be reminded, can
never need information on this head. A hint, therefore, to awaken your
sense of this matter, shall suffice; for I would inspire you with
repentance, and not drive you to desperation.
"There are other consequences, not indeed so dreadful or replete
with horror as this; and yet such, as, if attentively considered,
must, one would think, deter all of your sex at least from the
commission of this crime.
"For by it you are rendered infamous, and driven, like lepers of
old, out of society; at least, from the society of all but wicked
and reprobate persons; for no others will associate with you.
"If you have fortunes, you are hereby rendered incapable of enjoying
them; if you have none, you are disabled from acquiring any, nay
almost of procuring your sustenance; for no persons of character
will receive you into their houses. Thus you are often driven by
necessity itself into a state of shame and misery, which unavoidably
ends in the destruction of both body and soul.
"Can any pleasure compensate these evils? Can any temptation have
sophistry and delusion strong enough to persuade you to so simple a
bargain? Or can any carnal appetite so overpower your reason, or so
totally lay it asleep, as to prevent your flying with affright and
terror from a crime which carries such punishment always with it?
"How base and mean must that woman be, how void of that dignity of
mind, and decent pride, without which we are not worthy the name of
human creatures, who can bear to level herself with the lowest animal,
and to sacrifice all that is great and noble in her, all her
heavenly part, to an appetite which she hath in common with the vilest
branch of the creation! For no woman, sure, will plead the passion
of love for an excuse. This would be to own herself the mere tool
and bubble of the man. Love, however barbarously we may corrupt and
pervert its meaning, as it is a laudable, is a rational passion, and
can never be violent but when reciprocal; for though the Scripture
bids us love our enemies, it means not with that fervent love which we
naturally beat towards our friends; much less that we should sacrifice
to them our lives, and what ought to be dearer to us, our innocence.
Now in what light, but that of an enemy, can a reasonable woman regard
the man who solicits her to entail on herself all the misery I have
described to you, and who would purchase to himself a short,
trivial, contemptible pleasure, so greatly at her expense! For, by the
laws of custom, the whole shame, with all its dreadful consequences,
falls intirely upon her. Can love, which always seeks the good of
its object, attempt to betray a woman into a bargain where she is so
greatly to be the loser? If such corrupter, therefore, should have the
impudence to pretend a real affection for her, ought not the woman
to regard him not only as an enemy, but as the worst of all enemies, a
false, designing, treacherous, pretended friend, who intends not
only to debauch her body, but her understanding at the same time?"
Here Jenny expressing great concern, Allworthy paused a moment,
and then proceeded: "I have talked thus to you, child, not to insult
you for what is past and irrevocable, but to caution and strengthen
you for the future. Nor should I have taken this trouble, but from
some opinion of your good sense, notwithstanding the dreadful slip you
have made; and from some hopes of your hearty repentance, which are
founded on the openness and sincerity of your confession. If these
do not deceive me, I will take care to convey you from this scene of
your shame, where you shall, by being unknown, avoid the punishment
which, as I have said, is allotted to your crime in this world; and
I hope, by repentance, you will avoid the much heavier sentence
denounced against it in the other. Be a good girl the rest of your
days, and want shall be no motive to your going astray; and, believe
me, there is more pleasure, even in this world, in an innocent and
virtuous life, than in one debauched and vicious.
"As to your child, let no thoughts concerning it molest you; I
