Chapter 8.00: Chapter vii. — Containing such grave matter, that the reader cannot laugh once through the whole chapter, unless peradventure he should laugh at the author.

**
Chapter vii. — 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 bear 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 will
provide for it in a better manner than you can ever hope. And now nothing
remains but that you inform me who was the wicked man that seduced you;
for my anger against him will be much greater than you have experienced on
this occasion.”

Jenny now lifted her eyes from the ground, and with a modest look and
decent voice thus began:—

“To know you, sir, and not love your goodness, would be an argument
of total want of sense or goodness in any one. In me it would amount to
the highest ingratitude, not to feel, in the most sensible manner, the
great degree of goodness you have been pleased to exert on this occasion.
As to my concern for what is past, I know you will spare my blushes the
repetition. My future conduct will much better declare my sentiments than
any professions I can now make. I beg leave to assure you, sir, that I
take your advice much kinder than your generous offer with which you
concluded it; for, as you are pleased to say, sir, it is an instance of
your opinion of my understanding.”—Here her tears flowing
apace, she stopped a few moments, and then proceeded thus:—“Indeed,
sir, your kindness overcomes me; but I will endeavour to deserve this good
opinion: for if I have the understanding you are so kindly pleased to
allow me, such advice cannot be thrown away upon me. I thank you, sir,
heartily, for your intended kindness to my poor helpless child: he is
innocent, and I hope will live to be grateful for all the favours you
shall show him. But now, sir, I must on my knees entreat you not to
persist in asking me to declare the father of my infant. I promise you
faithfully you shall one day know; but I am under the most solemn ties and
engagements of honour, as well as the most religious vows and
protestations, to conceal his name at this time. And I know you too well,
to think you would desire I should sacrifice either my honour or my
religion.”

Mr Allworthy, whom the least mention of those sacred words was sufficient
to stagger, hesitated a moment before he replied, and then told her, she
had done wrong to enter into such engagements to a villain; but since she
had, he could not insist on her breaking them. He said, it was not from a
motive of vain curiosity he had inquired, but in order to punish the
fellow; at least, that he might not ignorantly confer favours on the
undeserving.

As to these points, Jenny satisfied him by the most solemn assurances,
that the man was entirely out of his reach; and was neither subject to his
power, nor in any probability of becoming an object of his goodness.

The ingenuity of this behaviour had gained Jenny so much credit with this
worthy man, that he easily believed what she told him; for as she had
disdained to excuse herself by a lie, and had hazarded his further
displeasure in her present situation, rather than she would forfeit her
honour or integrity by betraying another, he had but little apprehensions
that she would be guilty of falsehood towards himself.

He therefore dismissed her with assurances that he would very soon remove
her out of the reach of that obloquy she had incurred; concluding with
some additional documents, in which he recommended repentance, saying,
“Consider, child, there is one still to reconcile yourself to, whose
favour is of much greater importance to you than mine.”