I " O X F OKI), n \\ I O K, UA PAMELA, VIRTUE REWARDED; A SERIES OF LETTERS, FROM A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG DAMSEL TO HER PARENTS: 13ES1GNED TO INCULCATE THE PRINCIPLES OF VIRTUE AND RELIGION IN THE YOUTH OF BOTH SEXES. A NARRATIVE, H1CH HAS ITS FOUNDATION IN TRUTH, AND WHICH IS ENTIRELY DIVESTED OF ALL THOSE IMAGES WHICH, IN TOO MANY PIECES CALCULATED FOR AMUSE- MENT ONLY, TEKD TO INFLAME THE MINDS THEY SHOULD INSTRUCT. BY SAMUEL RICHARDSON. AN ENTIRELY NEW EDITION, CAREFULLY CORRECTED, TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR- OXFORD: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY BARTLETT AND NEWMAN- 1815. , i iS 1 5" ADVERTISEMENT. 1 HE Publishers of the present edition of Pamela are* aware that many objections have been urged against works of this nature ; they have been represented as a dangerous and improper mode of conveying instruction ; as calculated to cherish a taste for light, unprofitable reading, and to inspire, *l particularly in the youthful mind, a false idea of human life. v * * These objections may certainly be brought with great propriety against most of the works which have been pub- lished under the name of Novels, Romances,- &c. but there o[ are some writers of this class against whom no such objec- tions can be urged. } The Author of Pamela, as may be seen by the fol- ? lowing brief sketch of his life, was a truly virtuous charac- 3 ter; although it must be confessed that there are scent's (P introduced in the original edition of the work, which might offend the delicacy of some readers : this may be easily accounted for, by considering the time in which he lived; as it is evident that the present age ha9 made conside- rable progress towards refinement in language and senti- ment, though it is doubtful whether it has made equal advances towards purity of heart. a 1 p ii ADVERTISEMENT. But in order to obviate every objection to Pamela, a work which as to its principles and the general style of its language is certainly highly favourable to virtue, the Pub- lishers pledge themselves that it shall contain nothing either in sentiment or language that is likely to offend the most refined taste of the present day, and at the same time that the interest of the story, shall be fully preserved; nor can they help hoping that the work in its present form will af- ford to most readers both instruction and delight. PREFACE BY THE EDITOR. IF to divert and entertain, and at the same time to instruct, and improve the minds of the youth of both sexes If to in- culcate Religion and Morality in so easy and agreeable a manner, as shall render them equally delightful and pro- fitable to the younger class of readers, as well as worthy of the attention of persons of maturer years and understandings If to set forth in the most exemplary lights, the parental, the filial, and the social duties, and that from low to high life If to paint Vice in its proper colours, to make it de- servedly odious ; and to set Virtue in its own amiable light, to make it truly lovely If to draw characters justly, and to support them equally If to raise a distress from natural causes, and to excite compassion from proper motives If to teach the man of fortune how to use it; the man of passion how to subdue it; and the man of intiigue, how> gracefully, and with honour to himself, to reclaim If to give practical examples, worthy to be followed in the most critical and affecting cases, by the modest virgin, the chaste bride, and the obliging wife If to effect all these good ends, in so probable, so natural, so lively a manner, as shall engage the passions of every sensible leader, and strongly B 2 i? PREFACE. interest them in the edifying story, and all without raising a single idea throughout the whole, that shall shock the exactest purity, even in those tender instances where the exactest purity would be most apprehensive If these (em- bellished with a great variety of entertaining incidents) be laudable or worthy recommendations of any work the Edi- tor of the following letters, which have their foundation in truth and nature, ventures to assert, that all these desirable ends are obtained in these sheets : and as he is therefore confident of the favourable reception which he boldly be- speaks for this little work, he thinks any further Preface or apology for it unnecessary : And the rather for two reasons, first, because he can appeal from his own passions (which have been uncommonly moved in perusing these engaging scenes) to the passions of every one who shall read them with the least attention : and, in the next place, because an Editor may reasonably be supposed to judge with an impar- tiality which is rarely to be met with in an Author towards his own works, THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Ml*. SAMUEL RICHARDSON, who has been so justly styled " the great master of the human heart, the Shakspeare of Ro- mance," was descended from a respectable family in the county of Surry. His maternal grandfather and grandmother died of the great pestilence in London, in the year 1665, within half an hour of each other. His father, Mr. Samuel Richardson, was at first a cabinet-maker, and afterward a considerable importer of maho- gany, in Aldersgate Street. He had a genius superior to his business, and was, in particular, an excellent architect. This introduced him to an intimacy with several persons of rank, among whom may be mentioned the unfortunate Duke of Mon- mouth, and the celebrated Anthony Ashley Cooper, the first Earl of Shaftesbury. His intimacy with those active leaders of the country party, inrolved him in such difficulties, that, although of a character perfectly peaceable and inoffensive himself, he was obliged to quit his business in London, and to retire into Derby- shire, where his son, the subject of these Memoirs, was born in the year 1689. Jt is somewhat singular, that of the town which gave birth to such an illustrious writer, no information can be obtained ; for, from some motives, which cannot now be discovered, this was a circumstance which Mr. Richardson could never be induced to mention. His father, however, intending this his eldest son for the church, placed him at a private grammar school, in the same county. It is commonly understood, that at this school Mr. Ri- chardson made no great proficiency in the learned languages ; yet Dr. Young and he, when together, have been frequently hoard to quote Horace, and other classics, in their familiar con- vi LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. versation. Circumstances, however, concurred to alter his ori- ginal destination ; and it is certain that he was never sent to a more respectable seminary. But his subsequent celebrity did not suffer on this account ; his mind, like Shakespeare's, being much more enriched by nature and observation than it could have been by the mere study of the ancients. It is pleasing to observe the first indications of genius, how- ever trifling, in persons who arrive at last to such pre-eminence and fame. To Dr. Young, with whom Mr. Richardson was long and intimately acquainted, and who one day asked him what led him to be an author, he thus related the occasion : " When I was about twelve years of age I drew up a short cha- racter of a certain gentlewoman in the parish, who was reputed a great saint, but whom 1 regarded as a great hypocrite. The cha- racter, it seems, was so exactly drawn, that, when it came to be privately handed about among some select friends, every one could discern the features, and appropriate the picture to the true original, though no name was affixed to it. This little suc- cess, at first setting out, tempted me, at different times, to em- ploy my pen still farther in some trivial amusements, till, at length, although many years after, I sat down to write in good earnest, taking such subjects as struck my fancy most." While young Richardson was pursuing his juvenile studies, he endeared himself to the more serious part of his schoolfellows, by either relating the stories which he had read, or inventing others for their amusement; and with these last they were gene- rally the best pleased. At the age of fifteen, moreover, his mo- dest behaviour introduced him into the company of several young women in the neighbourhood, to whom he used to read, while they worked at their needle ; and, as he was remarkable for his taciturnity, they made him their confident and secretary in their love affairs ; in which he acquitted himself with such discretion, that not one of his fair employers ever knew that he was en- trusted by any other. The original design, which, as before observed, his father had conceived, of devoting him to the church, having been defeated by unavoidable losses, it was at last determined that he should be a tradesman ; and he was allowed to choose for himself. He LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. vii fixed, accordingly, on the business of a printer; but from no other motive, than that he imagined he should have better op- portunities of gratifying his inclination for reading. Mr. Richardson was bound apprentice to Mr. John Wilde, at Stationer's Hall, July 1, 1706. His master was uncommonly strict and severe, grudging him every moment that was not em- ployed to his own emolument ; insomuch that our young typo- grapher found great difficulty to procure opportunities, either of improving his mind by reading, or of cultivating his epistolary talent. During his apprenticeship, however, he maintained a correspondence with a gentleman of fortune, who had under- taken to do great things for him, but who died before he could evince the sincerity of his friendship. To this correspondence, which, on the gentleman's part, was chiefly narrative of what had occurred to him in the course of his travels abroad, Mr. Richardson was perhaps indebted, in his subsequent works, for the descriptions of many foreign incidents and scenes. To carry it on with regularity, and to attend in other respects to the im- provement of his mind, he was obliged to encroach on his hours of rest and relaxation, while his fellow-servants were either in their beds, or abroad on their pleasure. He was so conscien- tious, moreover, that, in order not to injure his master, he con- stantly purchased his own candles. At the expiration of his apprenticeship, Mr. Richardson became overseer and corrector of a printing-office ; in which employ- ment he continued five or six years. He took up his freedom on the 13th of June, 1715 ; and first set up for himself in a court in Fleet Street : from whence, as his business grew more exten- sive, he removed into Salisbury Court. It is somewhat remarkable, that two such virtuous writers as Dr. Young and Mr. Richardson should have formed connections in early life with the witty, but dissolute Duke of Wharton. This is an instance, that such connections do not always corrupt good manners ; an instance too uncommon, however, to recom- mend an intimacy with the vicious and abandoned. In 1723, when the duke fomented a spirit of opposition in the city, and became a member of the Wax-chandler's company, Mr. Richard- son, although his principles, both moral and political, were very b4 * LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. different, was much connected with hira, and, for a short time, printed his " True Briton," a periodical paper, which appeared twice a week. But the virulence of party soon became so con- spicuous in these papers, that Mr. Richardson would proceed no further than the sixth number. In the Biographical Dictionary it is strangely insinuated, that this last number was possibly his own production. But, certainly, an intimation of this kind ought not to have been given upon the slender presumption of a possibility .- for it cannot be conceived, that although Mr. Ri- chardson might be employed in printing papers, which, replete as they were with all the violence of opposition, he might not think absolutely libellous, he should concur, moreover, in writing sen- timents that were diametrically opposite to his own. These pa- pers, indeed, were extremely obnoxious to the administration of that time. They were represented to be more than common libels j " as they not only insulted every branch of the legisla- ture, but manifestly tended to make the constitution itself odious to the people." Such was the language of the Crown lawyers, which, in declarations against libels, is never supposed to assume a tone of mildness. Informations, however, were lodged against Mr. Payne, the publisher, for Numbers 3, 4, 5, and 6. He was found guilty j but Mr. Richardson escaped, as his name did not appear.. He was engaged, for some time, in printing a newspaper, called " The Daily Journal ;" and after- ward "The Daily Gazetteer." Through the interest of his friend, Mr. Speaker Onslow, he printed the first edition of the " Journals of the House of Commons," in twenty-six volumes in folio, of which the impression was not less than one thousand. That eminent man had such an esteem for him, that he would have exerted his interest still further, to procure him an honourable and lucrative station at court ; but Mr. Richardson, whose busi* ness was very extensive and profitable, and who was remarkably assiduous in it, could never be persuaded to accept such a favour. This parliamentary branch of his b; si ness enabled Air: Ri- chardson to be more independent of the booksellers than printers commonly are. Nevertheless, he did much business for them, and by making indexes, and writing prefaces and honest dedica- tions to their books, was very much courted by them. LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. i* In 1754 he was elected Master of the Stationer's Company ; and, in 1760, he purchased a moiety of the patent of law printer to his Majesty; which department of his business he carried on in partnership with Miss Catharine Lintot, since married to Sir Henry Fletcher, Bart. Mr Richardson was twice married. His first wife was Martha, the sister of Allington Wilde, Esq. printer in Aldersgate Street. By this lady, who died in 1731, he had five sons and a daughter, who a 1 died young. His second wife, whom he married in 1734, and who survived him many years, was Elizabeth, the sis- ter of Mr. James Leake, Bookseller in Bath. By her he had a son and five daughters. The son died young; but four of the daughters survived him; namely, Mary, married, in 1757, to Mr. Ditcher, a very eminent surgeon, at Bath ; Martha, married, in 1762, to Edward Bridgen, Esq. merchant in London ; Ann, the only daughter who was unmarried ; and Sa- rah, married, in 1764, to Mr. Crowther, surgeon, in Boswell Court. Mr. Richardson had a country retirement, first at North End, near Hammersmith, and afterward at Parson's Green. He was generally'there from Saturday to Monday, and frequently at, other times, when he was seldom without visitors from his friends of either sex. By his writings, which in a manner realized every feigned dis- tress, his nerves naturally weak, or, as Pope expresses it, " trem- blingly alive all o'er," were so unhinged, that, for many years be- fore his death, his hand shook, he had frequent vertigoes and he would sometimes have fallen, had he not supported himself by his cane under his coat. His nerves were affected to such a de- gree, for a considerable time before his death, that he could riot lift the quantity of a small glass of wine to his mouth, without assistance, although put into a tumbler. This disorder at last terminated in an apoplexy, which deprived the world of this amiable man, and truly original genius on the 4th of July, 176 1, at the age of 7*2- He was buried, by his own direction, with his first wife, in the middle aisle, near the pulpit of St. Bride's Church. Mr. Richardson was not more distinguished for the greatnes? x LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. of his talents, than for his excellent heart, and exemplary man- ners. Pidus, virtuous, and benevolent, to an uncommon degree, he was himself, in a more contracted sphere, the Grandson he drew ; his heart and hand being ever open to relieve the wants of others ; his chief delight to do good. To his wives and chil- dren he was tender and affectionate j to his domestics kind and condescending. In his business he was so active and assiduous, that (notwithstanding his purse, with his house and. table, both in town and country, were ever open to his numerous friends) he acquired a very handsome fortune, and left his family in easy and independent circumstances. \ In his dress and manners he was plain and unaffected. He generally rose at five in the morning, and retired to rest about eleven. His first business, at that early hour, was to walk through the different rooms of his printing-office ; but, in the latter years of his life, he sometimes indulged in bed till seven, and was very rarely seen among his workmen, sometimes not twice in a year j his writings and correspondence engaging his whole attention. His overseer and journeymen, in course, gene- rally received his directions by notes or letters. His hand, as before observed, was rendered extremely unsteady by his para- lytic disorder ; and yet his writing was small, even, and very legible. During seven years of the time, in which he was thus afflicted, he never tasted any animal food ; but lived chiefly upon vegetables. Finding, however, no benefit from this kind of diet, he resumed his former mode of living, which had ever been regular and somewhat abstemious. There is a passage in Mr. Boswell's ' ' Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides," which, if the, representation were true, would only evince, that even in the greatest and best of men we may look for instances of human imperfection : " At Mr. Nairne's," says our Journalist, " Dr. Johnson drew the character of Richardson, the author of Clarissa, with a strong, but delicate pencil. I la- ment much that I have not preserved it. I only remember that he expressed a high value for his talents and virtues ; but said that his perpetual study was to ward off petty inconveniences, and to procure petty pleasures ; that his love of continual superiority was such, that he took care always to be surrounded by women, LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. xi who listened to him implicitly, and did not venture to contradict his opinions ; and that his desire of distinction was so great, that he used to give large vails to Speaker Onslow's servants, that they might treat him with respect." Of this last circumstance it may be asked (admitting, for a moment, the representation to be just) where exists that transcendent, that superhuman cha- racter, which is in every respect uninfluenced by the littleness of vanity ? And with regard to the motives to which Mr. Ri- chardson's desire for the society of women is imputed, it may be questioned whether this observation is so much a satire upon that great man, as upon the sex in general. A writer, who could delineate such characters as Pamela, Miss Byron, Cla- rissa, and Clementina, must have contemplated the fair crea- tion through the most beautiful mediums, and must have been fond of their society, not for the little pleasure of shining in it, but for what he considered in itself as the most exquisite en- joyment. It was natural, therefore, for Mr. Richardson to be happy, and even to pride himself, in the friendship of wo- men of distinguished merit. In enumerating his friends in his last will, he appears to have been embarrassed by the number which occurred to him : " Had I given rings," said he, " to all the ladies who have honoured me with their cor- respondence, and .whom I sincerely venerate for their amiable qualities, it would, even in this last solemn act, appear like ostentation." But to insinuations so uncandid and illiberal, we are enabled, by authentic information, to give an answer still more satisfac- tory. A gentleman, who was very intimate with Mr. Richard- son, has observed to us, that he has no reason to question the accuracy of Mr. Boswell's Journal. It must be a subject of con- cern, he thinks, to all the admirers of Dr. Johnson's writings, that his grateful feelings toward Mr. Richardson, who was his friend and benefactor, and whose purse often made him happy, were not more lasting in their duration, nor more honourable in their influence. He has frequently been in company with Mr. Richardson and Dr. Johnson, at the house of the former, when several ladies of great character and understanding were present. \xx their conversation, which was generally directed to Mr. xii LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Richardson, they would often attack some part or other of his writings, which he always defended so well, as to convince his fair opponents that they were wrong. If the ladies did not be- gin with him, he would artfully lead them to the subject him- self j for female opposition animated him most, and seemed a greater cordial to his spirits than any flattery which they could bestow upon him and his works. In Dr. Johnson's company, on other occasions, Mr. Richardson has been observed to be more silent than in any other,, if a third person were present ; so that it has been a doubt with his friends, whether his silence in the doctor's company proceeded from respect or fear : for Mr. Ri- chardson was naturally very modest and well bred. This part of his character was particularly noticed by the late ingenious Aaron Hill. " He would, perhaps," says he, " in every thing he says or does be more in nature than all men before him, but that he has one fault, to an unnatural excess, and that is Modesty." With respect to Mr. Richardson's largesses, the gentleman, who has favoured us with these remarks, thinks it an obvious ques- tion, how they could be known to Dr. Johnson, who, he.has rea- son to imagine, was never admitted at Ember Court. And -he thinks it highly improbable to suppose, that the influence of vails could be at all necessary, to induce the domestics of Arthur Onslow, to treat with due respect a gentleman, whom their master honoured with his most friendly intimacy and particular esteem. But the truth is, that Mr. Richardson was ever gene- rous to excess ; a circumstance with which Dr. Johnson was well acquainted, and which he ought to have noticed in a very diffe- rent manner ; especially, since he himself, as before observed, had been so much the object of his liberality. The three great works which have immortalized the name of Richardson, exhibited a new mode of writing ; a series of fami- liar letters, written, as it were, at the moment, while the heart was still agitated by hopes and fears. Of Pamela, the first in or- der of time, the two first volumes were written in three months, and published in 1740. The design of the benevolent author is to represent the beauty and superiority of virtue in an innocent and unpollished mind, with the reward which often, even in this life, a protecting Providence bestows on goodness. A young LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. xiii woman, of low degree, relating to her honest parents the severe trials she met with from a master, who ought to have been the protector, not the assailer, of her honour, shews the character of a libertine in its- truly contemptible light. This libertine, how* ever, from the foundation of good principles laid in his early years by au excellent mother ; by his passion for a virtuous young woman ; and by her amiable example, and unwearied patience, when she became his wife ; is at last perfectly reclaimed. This history was founded upon a fact, which was communicated to Mr. Richardson by a gentleman of his acquaintance. The mas- ter of Pamela was the father of the present Earl of Gainsbo- rough, who rewarded the inflexible virtue of Elizabeth Chapman, his game- keeper's daughter, by exalting her to the rank of Coun- tess.; an elevation which she adorned not less by her accomplish- ments than her virtues. She brought his lordship twelve chil- dren ; and what a virtuous ascendency she ever maintained, may be imagined from the excellent character of his Lordship in Col- lins's Peerage of England. This celebrated work first intro- duced Mr. Richardson to the literary world. It was universally read and admired, and was immediately translated into French and Dutch. The great success, which attended this publication, encouraged the author to add two more volumes to the former, in which the heroine of the piece is exhibited in the various scenes of high life. These two volumes did not meet with the same success, although it is thought that the author held them in much higher estimation. It is certainly much to be lamented, that the new edition, in which much was altered, and the whole new-modelled, has never been given to the public. The two first volumes of Clarissa appeared in 1748, and were translated into French, though very indifferently, by the cele- brated Abb you have loved and cherished me when I could do nothing for myself. I T send them by John our footman, who goes your way : but he does not ^ know what he carries, because I seal them up m one of the little pill- t> boxes, which my lady had, wrapped close in' paper, that they mayn't ^ ""^chink ; and be sure don't open it before him. J^ Lknow, dear father and mother, I must give you both grief and plea- * sure : and so I will only say, pray for your Pamela ; who will ever be your ;J most dutiful daughter. f" I have been scared out of my senses ; for just now, as I was folding up y this letter in my late lady's dressing-room, in comes my young master! J- How was I frightened ! I went to hide the letter in my bosom ; and he- ' seeing me tremble, said, smiling, " To whom have you been writing, Pamela ?" I said in my confusion, " Pray your honour, forgive me ! onlv to my father and mother." Be said, " Well, then let me see how you are come on in your writing." Oh, how ashamed I was ! He took it, with- out saying more, and read it quite through, and then he-gave it me again and I said, " Pray your honour, forgive me !" Yet I know not for what : for he was always dutiful to his parents j' and why should he be angry that I was so to mine I And indeed he was not angry ; for he took me by the hand, and said, " You are a good girl, Pamela, to he kind to your aged father and mother. I am not angry with you for writing such in- nocent matters as these ; though you ought to be wary what tales you send out of a family. Be faithful and diligent ; and do as you should do, and I like you the better for this." And then he said, " Why, Pa- mela, you write a very pretty hand, and spell tolerably too. I see my good mother's care in your learning has not been thrown away upon you. She used to say, you loved reading ; you may look into any of her books to improve yourself, so you take care of them." I did nothing but curt- sey and cry, and was all in confusion at his goodness. Indeed he is the heit of gentlemen, I think : but I am making another long letter- so will only add to, it, that I shall ever be your dutiful daughter, Pamela Andrews, LETTER II. In ansiver to the preceding. hS..\K PAMELA, YOUR letter was a great trouble, and some comfort ^o me and you; poor mother. We are troubled for your good lady's death, who took such PAMELA. Suspicions of Pamela's Parents. care of you, and gave you learning, and for three or four years past has always been giving you clothes and linen, and every thing that a gentle- woman need not be ashamed to appear in. But our chief trouble is, and a very great one, for fear youshoultf be brought to any thing dishonest or wicked, by being set so above yourself. Every body talks how you have come on, and what a genteel girl you are ; and some say you are very pretty : and six months since, when I saw you last, I should have thought so gave me a very good character, and loved me ; and bid me take care to keep the fellows at a distance : and said, that I might do, and be more valued for it, even by themselves. But what pleased me much was what I am going to tell you ; for at table, as Mrs. Jervis says, my master and her ladyship talking of me, she told him she thought me the prettiest wench she ever saw; and that 1 was too pretty to live in a bachelor's house, since no lady he might marry would care to continue me with her. He said, I was vastly im- proved, and had a good share of prudence and sense above my years j it would be a pity what was ray merit should be my misfortune. " No," says my good lady, * l Pamela shall come and live with me, I think." He said, with all his heart ; he should be glad to have me so well provided for. " Well," said she, " I'll consult my lord about it." She asked how old I was ? and Mrs. Jervis said I was fifteen last February. (i Oh !" says she, " if the wench" (for so she calls all us maiden servants) " takes care of herself, she'll improve yet more and more, as well in her person as mind." Now, my dear father and mother, though this may look too vain to be repeated by me, yet are you not rejoiced, as well as I, to see my master '-' so willing to part with me ? This shews that he has nothing bad in his heart. But John is just going away : and so I have only to say, that I am, and will always be your tonest, as well as dutiful daughter. Pray make use of the money. You may now do it safely. LETTER V. MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER* JOHN being to go your way, I am willing to write, because he is so willing to carry any thing for me. He says it does him good at his heart to see you both, and to hear you talk. He says you are both so sensible, and so honest, that he always learns something from you to the purpose. It is a thousand pities, he says, that such worthy hearts should not have better luck in the world ; and wonders that you, my father, who are so well able to teach, and write so good a hand, succeeded no better in the school you attempted to set up, but was forced to go to hard labour. But this is more pride to me, that I am come of such honest parents, than if / I had been bom a lady. I hear nothing yet of going to Lady Pavers ; and I am very easy at present here : for Mrs. Jervis uses me as if I were her own daughter ; and is a very good woman, and makes my master's interest her own. She is always giving me good counsel, and I love her, next to you two, I think, best of any body. She keeps so good rule and order, she is respected by . PAMELA. Pamela's Master makes her a Present us all ; and take delight to hear me read to her : and all she loves to hear read is good books, which we read whenever we are alone : so that I think I am at home with you. She heard one of our men, Harry, who is no better than he should be, speak freely to me : I think he called me his pretty Pamela, and took hold of me as if he would have kissed me, for which you may be sure I was very angry : and she took him to task, and was as angry with him as could be, and told him she was very well pleased to see my prudence and modesty, and that I kept all the fellows at a distance. And I am sure I am not proud, and carry it civilly to every body : but yet, methinks, I cannot bear to be looked upon by these menservants, for they seem as if they would look one through : and, as I generally breakfast, dine, and*sup with Mrs. Jervis (so good is she to me) I am very easy that I have so little to say to them. Not but they are very civil to me for Mrs. Jervis's sake, who they see loves me ; and they stand in awe of her, knowing her to be a gentlewoman born, though she had misfortunes. I am going on again with a long letter, for I love writing, and shall tire you. But when I began, I only intended to say, that 1 am quite fearless of any danger now ; and cannot but wonder at myself (though your cau- tion to me was your watchful love) that I should be so foolish as to be so uneasy as I have been : for I am sure my master would not demean himself so as to think upon such a poor girl as I for my harm. For such a thing would ruin his credit as well as mine, you know ; who, to be sure, may ex- pect one of the best ladies in the land. So no more at present, but that I art your ever dutiful daughter. LETTER VI. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, MY master has been very kind since my last : for he has given me a suit of my late lady's clothes, and half a dozen of her shifts, and six fine handkerchiefs, and three of her cambrick aprons, and four Holland ones. The clothes are fine silk, and too rich and too good for me, to be sure. I wish it was no affront to him to make money of them, and send it to you : it would do me more good. You will be full of fears, I warrant now, of some design upon me, till I tell you, that he was with Mrs. Jervis when he gave them me ; and he gave her a mort of good things at the same time, and bid her wear them in remembrance of her good friend, my lady, his mother. And when he gave me these fine things, he said, " These Pamela, are for you ; have them made fit for you, when your mourning is laid by, and wear them for your good mistress's sake. Mrs. Jervis gives you a very good word, and I would have you continue to behave as prudently as you have done hitherto, and every body will be your friend," PAMELA. of some of her late Mistress's Clothes I was so surprised at his goodness, and I could not tell what to say. I curtseyed to him, and to Mrs. Jervis, for her good word ; and said, I wished I might be deserving of his favour, and her kindness : and nothing should he wanting in me, to the best of my knowledge. Gb, hew amiable a thing is doing good ! It is all I envy great folks for. I always thought my young master a fine gentleman, as every body says he is : but he gave these good things to us both with such a gracious- ness, as I thought he looked like an angel. Mrs. Jervis says, he asked her if I kept the men at a distance; for, he said, I was very pretty : and to be drawn in to have any of them might be my ruin, and make me poor and miserable betimes. She never is wanting to give me a good word, and took occasion to launch out in my praise, she says. But I hope she has said r>o more than I shall try to deserve, though I may'ht at present. I am sure I will always love her, next to you and my dear mother. So 1 rest your ever dutiful daughter LETTER. VII. DEAR FATHER, SINCE my last my master gave me more fine things. He called mcr up to my late lady's closet, and pulling out her drawers, he gave me two suits of fine Flanders laced head-clothes ; three pair of fine silk shoes, two hardly the worse, and just fit for me (for my lady had a very little foot,) and the other with wrought silver buckles in them, and several ribbands and top-knots of all colours : four pair of white cotton stock- ings, three pair of fine silk ones, and two pair of rich stays. I was quite astonished, and unable to speak for a while ; but yet I was inwardly ashamed to take the stockings, for Mrs. Jervis was not there : if she had, it would have been nothing. I believe I received them very awkwardly ; for he smiled at my awkwardness, and said, " Don't blush, Pamela ! dost think I don't know pretty maids should wear shoes and stockings?" I was so confounded at these words, you might have beat me down with a feather. For you must think there was no answer to* be made to this : so, like a fool, I was ready to cry, and went away curtseying and blushing, I am sure, up. to the ears ; for, though there was no harm in what he said, yet I did not know how to take it. But I went and told all to Mrs. Jervis, who said, God put it into his heart to be good to me ; and I must double my diligence. It looked to her, she said, as if he would fit me in dress for a waiting-maid's place on Lady Davers'* own person. But still your kind fatherly cautions came into my head, and made all these gifts nothing near to me what they would have been. But yet, I hope, there is no reason ; for what good could it do to him to harm such a simple maiden as me? Besides, to be sure no lady would look upon c 4 PAMELA. 1 1 . i ,iir t ae=sa Pamela's Father cartir,, her ag;ai>-' her v aster'- Favours. him, if he should so disgrace himself. So I will make myself easy : and, indeed, I should never have heen otherwise, if you had not put it into my head for my good, I know very well. But, may be without these uneasi- nesses to mingle with these benefits, I might be too much puffed up ! so I will conclude all that happens is for our good ; and God bless you, my dear father and mother : I know you constantly pray for a blessing upon me, who am, and shall always be, your dutiful daughter. LETTER VIII. DEAR PAMELA, I CANNOT but renew my cautions on your master's kindness, and his free expressions about the stockings. Yet there may not be,, and I hope there is not, any thing in i|. But when I reflect, that there possibly may, v and that if there should, no less depends upon it than my child's ever- lasting happiness in this world and the next, it is enough to make one fearfu-l for you. Arm yourself, my dear child, for the worst, and resolve to lose your life sooner than yonr virtue. Though the doubts I filled you with lessen the pleasure you would have had in your master's kind- ness ; yet what signify the delights that arise from a few fine clothes, in comparison with a good conscience? These are very great favours he heaps upon you, but so much the more to be suspected ; and when you say he looked so amiably and like an angel, how afraid I am that they should make too great an impression upon you ! For, though you are blessed with sense and prudence abpve your years, yet I tremble to think what a sad hazard a poDr maiden of little more than fifteen yeare of age stands against the temptations of this world, and a designing gentleman, if he should prove so, who has so much power to oblige, and has a kind of authority to command as your master. I charge you, my dear child, on both our blessings, poor as we are, to be on your guard : there can be no harm in that. And since Mrs. Jervis is so good a gentlewoman, and so kind to you, I am easier a. great deal, and so is your mother ; rfhd we hope you will hide nothing from her, and take her counsel in every thing, , So, with our blessing* and assured prayers for you, more than for ourselves, we remain your loving JatJier and mother. Be sure you don't let people's telling you, you are pretty, puff you up ; for you did not make yourself, and so can have no praise due to you Tor, it. It is virtue and goodness only that make the true beauty. Remember that, Pamela. LETTER IX. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I AM sorry to write you word, that the hopes I had of going to wait on Lady Davers are quite over. My lady would have had me, but my mas- PAMELA. Base Con'iuct of Pamela's Master. ter, as I heard, would not consent to it. He said, her nephew might be taken with me, and I might draw him in, or be drawn in by him ; and he thought, as his mother loved me, and committed me to his care, he ought to continue me with him ; and Mrs. Jervis would be a mother to me. Mrs; Jervis tells me, the lady shook her head, and said, " Ah, bro- ther /" and that was all. And as you have made me fearful by your cau- tions, my heart at times misgives me. But I say nothing yet of your caution or my own uneasiness to Mrs. Jervis, not that I mistrust her, but for fear she should think me presumptuous, vain, and conceited, to have any fears about the matter, from the great distance between such a gen- tleman and so poor a girl. But yet Mrs. Jervis seemed to build some- thing upon Lady Davers's shaking her head, and saying, " Ah, brother !" and no more. God, I hope, will give me his grace ; and so I will not, if I can help it, make myself too uneasy; for I hope there js no occasion. But every little matter that happens "I will acquaint you with, that you may continue to me your good advice, and pray for your sad hearted PAMELA. LETTER X. DEAR MOTHER, YOU and my good father may wonder you have not had a letter from me in so many weeks ; but a sad, sad scene has been the occasion of it. For, to be sure, now, it is too plain, that all your cautions were well-grounded. O my dear mother ! I am miserable, truly miserable ! But yet, don't be frighted, 1 am honest God, of his goodness, keep me so! this angel of a master ! this fine gentleman ! this gracious benefactor to your poor Pamela ! who was to take care of me at the prayer of his good dying mother ; who was so apprehensive for me lest I should be drawn in by Lord Davers's nephew, that he would not let me go to Lady Davers's : this very gentleman (yes, I must call him gentleman, though he has fallen from the merit of that title) has degraded himself to offer freedoms to his poor servant ! He has now shewed himself in his true colours, and to me, nothing appears so hlack, and so frightful. 1 have not been idle ; but have writ, from time to time, how he, by sly, mean degrees exposed his wicked views ; but somebody stole my letter, and I know not what has become of it. It was a very long one. I fear, he that was mean enough to do bad things, in one respect, did not stick at this. But be it as it will, all the use he can make of it will be, that he may be ashamed of his part ; I not of mine : for he will see 1 was re- solved to be virtuous, and gloried in the honesty of my poor parents. I will tell you all the next opportunity ; for I am watched very nar- iO PAMELA. Base Conduct of Pamela's Master. rowly ; and he says to Mrs. Jervis, " This girl is always a scribbling ; I think she may be better employed." And yet I work all hours with my needle upon his linen, and the fine linen of the family; and am, besides, about flowering him a waistcoat. But, oh ! my heart's broke almost ; for what am I likely to have for my reward, but shame and disgrace, or else ill words or hard treatment ! I'll tell you all soon, and I hope I shall find my long letter. Your most afflicted daughter. May be, I he and him him too much : but it is bis own fault if I do. For why did he lose all his dignity with rne ? LETTER XI. DEAR MOTHER, WELL, I can't find my letter, and so I'll try to recollect it all, and be as brief as I can. All went well enough in the main for some time after my last letter but one. At last I saw some reason to suspect; for he would look upon me whenever he saw me, in such a manner as shewed not well. One day he came to me, as I was in the summer-house in the little garden, at work with my needle ; Mrs. Jervis was just gone from me ; and I would have gone out, but he said, " No, don't go, Pamela ; I have something to say to you : and you always fly me when I come near you, as if you were pfraid of me." I was much out of countenance, you may well think ; but said at last, *' It does not become your poor servant to stay in your presence, Sir, without ypur business required it; and I hope I shall always know my place." VVell," says he, " my business does require it sometimes : and I have a mind you should stay to hear what I have to say to you." I stood still confounded, and began to tremble, and the more when he took me by the hand ; for now no soul was near us. " My sister Davers," said he (and seemed, I thought, to be as much at a loss for words as I) " would have had you live with her; but she would not do for you what I am resolved to do, if you continue faithful and obliging. What say'st thou, my girl ?" said he, with some eagerness, " hadst thou not rather stay with me, than go to my sister ?" He looked so as filled me with affrightment ; I don't know how ; wildly, I thought. I said, when I could speak, " Your honour will forgive me ; but as you have no lady for me to wait upon, and my good lady has been now dead j this twelve- month, I had rather, if it would not displease you, wait upon Lady Davers, because 1 was proceeding, and he said a little hastily, " Because you are a little fool, and know not what's good for yourself. I tell you 1 will make a gentlewoman of you. if you be obliging, and don't PAMELA. 11 VU solute Conduct of Pamela. stand in your own light ;" and so saying, he put his arm about me, and kissed me. Now, you will say," Sir," said she, " you can see farther than such a poor silly woman as I am ; but yet I never saw any thing but innocence in her." " And virtue too, I'll warrant ye '." said he. " But suppose I could give you an instance, where she has talked a little too freely of the kindnesses that have been shewn her from a certain quarter ; and has the vanity to impute a few kind words, uttered in mere compassion to her youth and circumstances into a design upon her, and even dared to make free with names which she ought never to mention but with reverence and grati- tude ; what would you say to that ?" " Say, Sir !" said she ; " I cannot tell what to say. But I hope Pamela incapable of such ingratitude." " Well, no more of this silly girl," says he. " You may only advise her, as you are her friend, not to give herself too much licence upon the fa- vours she meets with ; and, if she stays here, that she will not write the affairs of my family purely for an exercise to her pen and her invention I tell you, she is a subtle, artful gipsy, and time will shew it you." 16 PAMELA. Pamela's Master repeats his improper Behaviorfr. Was ever the like heard, my dear father and mother ? It is plain he did pot expect to meet with such a" repulse, and mistrusts that I have told Mrs. Jervis, and has my long letter too, that I intended for you ; and so is vexed to the heart. But I can't help it. I had hetter be thought artful and subtle, than be so, in his ,sense : and as light as he makes of th words virtue and innocence in me, he would have made a less angry con- st ruction, had I less deserved that he should do so; for then, may be, my crime would have been my virtue with him ; naughty gentleman as he is ! I will soon write again, but must end with saying, that I am, and shali always be, your /wnest daughter. LETTER XV. DEAR MOTHER, I BROKE off abruptly my last letter ; for I feared he was coming : and so it happened. I put the letter in my bosom, and took up my work, which lay by me ; but I had so little of the artful, as he called it, that I looked as confused as if I had been doing some great harm. " Sit still, Pamela," said%e, " and mind your work, for all me. You don't tell me I am welcome home, after my journey to Lincolnshire. "It would be hard, Sir," said I, " if you were not always welcome to your ho- nour's own house." I would have gone ; but he said, " Don't run away, I tell you. I have a word or two to say to you." Good Sirs, how my heart went pit-a-pat ! ' When I was a little kind to you," said he, " in the summer-house, and you carried yourself so foolishly upon it, as if I had intended to do you great harm, did I not tell you you should take no notice of what passed, to any creature. ? and yet you have made a common talk of the matter, not considering either my reputation or your own." " I made a common talk of it, Sir !" said I : " I have nobody to talk to, hardly." He interrupted me and said, " Hardly ! you little equivocator ! what do you mean by liardly ? Let me ask you, have not you told Mrs. Jervis for one ?" " Pray, your honour," said I, all in agitation, " let me go down : for it is not for me to hold an argument with yonr honour." " Equivoca- tor, again I" said he, and took my hand, " what do you talk of an argu- 'tnentf Is it holding an argument with me to answer a plain question? Answer me what I asked !" " O good Sir," said I, " let me beg ycu will not urge me farther, for fear I forget myself again, and be saucy !" " Answer me, then, I bid you !" says he : " have you not told Mrs. Jer- vis? It, will be saucy in you, if you don't answer me di.ectly to what I ask."" Sir," said I, and fain would have pulled my hand away, " perhaps PAMELA. 17 Candom- of Pamela. should be for answering you by another question, and that would not become me." " What is it you" would say ?" replied he ; " speak out." " Then, Sir," said I, " why should your honour be so angry I should tell Mrs. Jervis, or any body else, what passed, if you intended no harm ?" " Well said, pretty innocent and artless ! as Mrs. Jervis calls you," said he.; ** and it is thus you taunt and retort upon me, insolent as you are ! But still I will be answered directly to my question." ** Why, then Sir," said I, " I will not tell a lie for the world : I did tell Mrs. Jervis ; for my heart was almost broken : but I opened no< my mouth to any other." " Very well, bold-face," said he, " and equivocator again ! You did not open your mouth to any other ; but did you not write to some other ?" " Why, now and please your honour," said I (for I was quite courageous just then) "you could not have asked me this question, if you had not taken from me my letter to my father and mother, in which I own I opened my mind freely to them, and asked their advice, and poured forth my griefs !" - i " And so I am to be exposed, am I," said he, " in my own house, and out of my house, to the whole world, by such a saucebox as you?" " No, good Sir," said I ; " and I hope your honour won't be angry with me : it is not I that expose you, if 1 say nothing but the truth." "So, taunting again ! Assurance as you are !" said he, " 1 will not be thus talked to !*.* ' " Pray, Sir," said I, " of whom can a poor girl take advice, if it must not be of her father and mother, and such a good woman as Mrs. Jer- vis ?" " Insolent !" said he, and stamped with his foot, " am I to be questioned thus by such a one as you ?" I fell down on my knees, and^ said, " For heaven's sake, your honour, pity a poor creature, that knows nothing of her duty, but how to cherish >her virtue and good name ! I have nothing else to trUst to ; and, though poor and friendless, yet I have always been taught to value honesty above my life." " Here's ado with your honesty," said he, " foolish girl ! Is it not one part of honesty to be dutiful and grateful to your master, do you think ?" " Indeed, Sir," said I, " it is impossible I should be ungrateful to your honour, or disobe- dient, or deserve the names of bold-face and insolent, which you call me, but when your commands are contrary to that first duty which shall ever be the principle of my life I" He seemed to fee moved, and rose up, and walked into the great cham- ber two or three turns, leaving me on my knees ; I threw my apron over my face, and laid my head on a chair, and 'cried as if my heart would break, having no power to stir. At last he came in again ; but, alas ! with mischief in his heart, and raising me tip, he said, "Rise, Pamela, rise; you are your own enemy a 2 D 18 PAMELA. Pamela ill used by her Master. Your perverse folly will be your ruin. I tell you this, that I ani very much displeased with the freedoms you have taken with my name to my housekeeper, as also to your father and- mother ; and you may as well have real cause to make these freedoms with me, as to make my name suffer for imaginary ones." And saying so, he offered to take me on his knee, with some force. Oh, how I was terrified ! I said, like as I had read in a book a night or two before, ' Angels and saints, and all the host of heaven, defend me !' And may I never survive one moment, that fatal one in which I shall forfeit my innocence." " Pretty fool !" said he, " how will you forfeit your innocence, if you are obliged to yield to a force you cannot withstand ? Be easy," said he : " for, let the worst happen that can, you'll have the merit, and I the blame ; and it will be a good subject for letters to your father and mother, and a tale into the bargain for Mrs. Jervis." He by force kissed me ; and said, u Who ever blamed Lucretia ! All the shame lay on the ravisher only : and I am content to take all the blame upon me : as I have already -borne too great a share for what I have- deserved." "May I," said I, "Lucretia like, justify myself with my death, if I am used barbarously?" "O my good girl," said he, taunt- ingly* " y u are well read, I see ; and we shall make out between us, be- fore we have done, a pretty story in romance, I warrant ye." I got loose from him by a sudden spring, and ran out of the room ; and the next chamber being open, I entered it, shut to the door, and it locked after me : but he followed me so close, he got hold of my gown, and tore a piece off, which hung without the door ; for the key was on the inside. I just remember I got into the room ^ for I knew nothing further of the matter till afterwards ; for I fell into a fit with terror, and there I lay, till he, as I suppose, looking through the key-hole, spied me upon the floor, stretched out at length, on my face ; and then he called Mrs. Jervis to me, who, by his assistance, bursting open the door, he went away, seeing me coming to myself ; and bid her say nothing of the mat- ter, if she was wise. Poor Mrs. Jervis thought it was worse, and cried over me like as if she was my mother; and I was two hours before I came to myself; and just as I got a little upon my feet, he coming in, 1 fainted away again with the terror ; and so he withdrew ; but he staid in the next room to let nobody come near us, that his foul proceedings might not be known. Mrs. Jervis gave me her smelling bottle, and had cut my laces, and set me in a great chair, when he called her to him. " How is the girl?" said he : "I never saw such a fool in my life. I did nothing to her." Mrs. Jervis could not speak for crying. "So," he said, " she has told you, it seems, that I was kind to her in the summer- PAMELA. 19 Pamela ordered to appear before her Master. house, though, I'll assure you, I was quite innocent then as w ell as now : and 1 desire you to keep this matter to yourself, and let me not be named in it."*' O Sir," said she, "for your honour's sake!" But he would not hear her, and said, *' For your own sake, I tell you, Mrs. Jervis, say not a word more. I have done her no harm. And I won't have her stay in my house ; prating, perverse fool, as she is ! But since she is so apt to fall into fits, or at least pretend to do so, prepare her to see me to-morrow after dinner, in my mother's closet; do you be with her, and you shall hear what passes between us." And so he went out in a pet, and ordered his chariot and four to be got ready, and went a visiting somewhere. Mrs. Jervis then came to me ; I told her all that had happened, and said I was resolved not to stay in the house : and she replying " He seemed to threaten as much ;" I sajd, " I am glad of that ; then I shall be easy." So she told me all he had said to her, as above. Mrs. Jervis is very loath I should go ; and yet, poor woman, she begins to be afraid for herself; but would not have me ruined for the world. She says, to be sure he means no good ; but may be, now he sees me so resolute, he will give over all attempts : and that I shall better know what to do after to-morrow, when I am to appear before a very bad judge, I doubt. Oh, how I dread this to-morrow's appearance ! But be assured, my dear parents, of the honesty of your poor child, as I am of your prayers for your dutiful daughter. Oh, this frightful to-morrow ! how I dread it. LETTER XVI. MY DEAR PARENTS, I KNOW you longed to hear from me soon ; and I send you as soon as I could. Well, you may believe how uneasily I passed the time till his appointed hour came. Every minute, as it grew nearer, my terrors increased ; and sometimes I had great courage, and sometimes none at all ; and I thought I should faint when it came to the time my master had dined. I could neither eat nor drink, for my part ; and do what I could, my eyes were swelled with crying. At last he went up to the closet which was my good lady's dressing- room ; a room I once loved, but then as much hated. Don't your heart ache for me ? I am sure mine fluttered about like a new caught bird in a cage. ** O Pamela," said I to myself, " why art thou so foolish and fearful ? Thou hast done no harm ! What, if thou fearest an unjust judge, when thou art innocent, wouldst thou do before a just one, if thou wert guilty? u 2 20 PAMELA. Pamela appears before her Master. ' ' - * Have courage, Pamela ; thou knowest the worst! And how easy a choice poverty and honesty is, rather than plenty and wickedness." So I cheered myself, but yet my poor heart sunk, and my spirits were quite broken. Every thing that stirred, I thought was to call me to my account. I dreaded it, and yet I wished it to come. Well, at last he rung the bell ; " Oh," thought I, " that it was my passing-bell !" Mrs. Jervis went up with a full heart enough, poor good woman ! He said, " Where's Pamela ! Let her come up ; and do you come with her." She came to me : I was ready to go ; but my heart was with my dear father and mother, wishing to share your poverty and hap- piness. I went up, however. Oh, how can wicked men seem so steady and untouched with such black hearts, while poor innocents -stand like malefactors before them! He looked so stern that my heart failed me, and I wished myself any where but there, though 1 had before been summoning up all my courage. *' Good heaven," said I to myself, " give me courage to stand before this naughty master ! O soften him, or harden me !", " Come in, fool !" said he, angrily (and snatched my hand with a pull ;) " you may well be ashamed to see me after your noise and non- sense, and exposing me as you have done." " I ashamed to see you :" thought I: " very pretty, indeed !" But I said nothing. " Mrs. Jervis," said he, " here you are both together. Do you sit down ; but let her stand, if she will." "Aye," thought I, " if I can ;" for my knees beat one against the other. " Did you not think, when you saw the girl in the way you found her, that I had given her the greatest occasion for complaint that could possibly be given to a woman ? And that I had actually ruined her, as she calls it ? Tell me, could you think any thing less ?" " Indeed," said she, " I feared so at first." " Has she told you what I did to her, and all I did to her, to occasion .ill this folly, by which my reputation might have suffered in your opinion, and in that of all the family, inform me what she has told you ?" She was a little too much frightened, as she owned afterwards, at his sternness, and said, " Indeed she told me you only pulled her on your knee, and i ssed her.' Then I plucked up my spirit a little. " Only ! Mrs. Jervis ?" said T ; " and was not that enough to shew me what I had to fear ? When a mas- ter of his honour's degree demeans himself to be so free as that xo such a poor servant as me, what is the next to be expected ? But your honour went further ; and threatened me what you would do ; talked of Lucretia and her hard fate. Your honour knows you went too far for a master to a servant, or even to his equal ; and 1 cannot bear it." So I fell a crying: most sadly. PAMELA. 21 He endeavours to clear himself. Mrs. Jervis began to excuse me, and to beg he would pity a poor maiden, that had such a value for her reputation. He said, " I think her very pretty, and I thought her humble, and one that would not grow upon my favours, or the notice I took of her ; but I abhor the thought of forcing her to any thing. I know myself better," said he, " and what belongs to me : and to be sure I have enough demeaned myself to take notice of such a one as she ; but I was bewitched by her I think to be freer than became me ; though 1 had no intention to carry the jest farther." What poor stuff was all this, my dear mother, from a man of his sense ! But, see how a bad cause and bad actions confound the greatest wits ! It gave me a little more courage then ; for innocence, I find, in a low for- tune, and weak mind, has many advantages over guilt, with all its riches \_and wisdom. So I said, " Your honour may call this jest, or sport, or what you please ; but, Sir, it is not a jest that becomes the distance between a .roaster and servant." *' Do you hear, Mrs. Jervis," said he, " the pert- ness of this creature ? I had a good deal of this sort before in the sum- mer-house, and yesterday too, which made me rougher with her than, perhaps, I had otherwise been." Says Mrs. Jervis, " Pamela, don't be so pert to his honour : you should know your distance ; you see bis honour was only in jest." " O dear Mrs. Jervis," said I, " don't you blame me too. It is very difficult to keep one's distance to the greatest of men, when they won't keep it themselves to their meanest servants." " See again '." said he : " could you believe this of the young baggage, if you had not heard it?" " Good, your honour," said Mrs. Jervis, " pity and forgive the poor girl : she is but a girl, and her virtue is very dear to her : I will pawn my life for her, she will never be^pert to your honour, if you will be so good as to molest her no more, nor frighten her again. You saw, Sir, by her" fit, she was in terror j she could not help it ; and though your honour intended her no harm, yet the apprehension was almost death to her ; and I had much ado to bring her to herself again." "O the little hypocrite," said he; " she has all the arts of her sex ; they were born with her ; I told you a while ago you did not know her. But this was not the reason principally of my calling you before me toge- ther : I find I am likely to suffer in my reputation by the perverseness and folly of this girl. She has told you all, and perhaps more than all ; I make no doubt of it ; and she has written letters (for I find she is a mighty letter-writer) to her father and mother, and others, as far as I know ; in which, representing herself as an angel of light, she makes her kind master and benefactor a devil incarnate." (Oh, how people will sometimes, thought I, call themselves by their right names !) " And all this," added he, " I won't bear; and so am resolved she shall return to the D 3 22 PAMELA. i * i i t Pamela's Master discharges her from his Service. distresses and poverty she was taken from ; and let her be careful how she uses my name with freedom when she is gone from me." /I was brightened up with these welcome words ; I threw myself upon my knees at his feet, with a molt sincere glad heart, and said, " May your honour be for ever blessed for your resolution ! Now I shaft be happy. Permit me, on my bended knees, to thank you for all the benefits and favours you have heaped upon me ; for the opportunities I have had of improvement and learning, through my good lady's means and yours. I will now forget all your honour has offered to me ; and I promise you, that 1 will never let your name pass my lips but with reverence and gra- titude. Heaven bless your honour for ever and ever, Amen .'" Then rising from my knees, I went away with another guise sort of heart than I came into his presence with : and so I fell to writing this letter. And thus all is happily over. And now, my dearest father and mother, expect to see soon your pdor daughter, with a humble and dutiful mind, returned to you ; and don't fear but I know to be as happy with you as ever ; for I will lie in the loft, as I used to do ; and pray let my little bed be got ready. I have a small matter of money, which will buy me a suit f clothe* fitter for my con- dition than what 1 have ; and I will get Mrs. Mumford to help me to some needle-work ; and fear not that I shall be a burden to you, if my health continues. I know I shall be blessed, if not for my own sake, for both your sakes, who have, in all your trials and misfortunes, preserved so much integrity, as makes everybody speak well of you both. But I hope he will let good Mrs. Jervis give me a character, for fear it should be thought I was turned away for dishonesty. And so, my dear parents, may you be blest for me, and I for you. And I will always pray for my master and Mrs. Jervis. So good night ; for it is late, and I shall be soon called to bed. 1 hope Mrs. Jervis is not angry with me. She has not called me to supper ; though I could eat nothing if she had. But I make no doubt I shall sleep purely to night, and dream that I am with you in my dear, dear happy loft once more. So good night again, my dear father and mother, says your poor honest daughter. Perhaps 1 niay'nt come this week, because I must get up the linen, and leave in order every thing belonging to my place. Send me a line, if you can, to let me know if I shall be welcome, by John, who wHl cali for it as he returns. But say nothing of my coining away to him as yet : for it will be said I blab every thing. PAMELA. 23 She is welcomed to return home by her Parents. LETTER XVII. MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, WELCOME, welcome, ten times welcome, shall you be to us ; for you come to us innocent, happy, and honest : yoa are the staff and the com- fort of our old age. And though we cannot do for you as we would, yet, fear not, we shall live happily together : what with my diligent labour, your poor mother's spinning, and your needle-work, I make no doubt we shall do better and better. Only your poor mother's eyes begin to fail her : though, I bless God, I am as strong and able, and willing to labour as ever; and, O my dear child! your virtue has made me, I think, stronger and better than I was before. What blessed things are trials and temptations, when we have the strength to res. ; st and subdue them. ' But I am uneasy about those four guineas : I think you should give them back again to your master ; and yet I have broken them. Alas ! I have only three left j but I will borrow the fourth, if I can, part upon my wages, and part of Mrs. Mumford, and send the whole sum back, that you may return it, against John comes next, if he comes again before you. I want to know how you come. I fancy honest John will be glad to bear you company part of the way, if your master is not so cross as to forbid him. If I know time enough, your mother will go one five miles, and I will go ten on the way, or till I meet you, as far as oue holiday will go ; for that I can get leave to make on such an occasion ; and we shall receive you with more pleasure than we had at your birth, or than we ever had in our lives. And so God bless you, till the happy time comes, say both your mother and I ; which is all at present, from your truly loving parents. LETTER XVI II. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I THANK you a thousand times for your goodness to me, expressed in your last letter. I now long to get my business done, and come to my old loft again, as I may call it. I have been quite another thing since my master has turned me off; and as I shall come to you an honest daughter, what pleasure it is to what I should have had if I could not have seen you but as a guilty one. Well, my writing-time will soon be over ; so I will make use of it now, and tell you all that has happened since my last letter. I wondered Mrs. Jervis did not call me to sup with her, and feared she was angry ; and when I had finished my letter I longed for her coming to bed. At last she came up, but seemed shy and reserved ; I said, " My dear Mrs. Jervis, I am glad to see you : you are not angry with me, I i) 4 24 PAMELA. ' " i -i i . i . ,, . '' . Friendship of Mrs. Jervis for Pamela. hope." She said, she was sorry things had gone so far ; that she had a great deal of talk with my master after I was gone; that he seemed moved at what I said, and my falling on my knees to him, and my prayer for him at going away. He said, I was a strange girl; he knew not what to make of me. " And is she gone ?" said he. " I intended to have said something else to her ; but she behaved so oddly, that I had not power to stop her." She asked, if she should call me again. He said, " Yes ;" and then, " No : let her go ; it is best for her and me too : she shall go, now I have given her warning. Where she bad it, I can't tell ; but I never met with the fellow of her in my life." She said, he bad ordered her not to tell me all : but she believed he never would offer any thing to me again ; ai*d I might stay, she fancied, if I would beg it as a favour, though she was not sure. "I stay! dear Mrs. Jervis," said I ; " why 'tis the best news that could have come to" me, that he will let me go. I long to go back again to my poverty and distress, as he threatened I should ; for though I am sure of the poverty, I shall not have half the distress I have had for some months past, I assure you." Mrs. Jervis, dear good soul, wept over me, and said, " Well, well, Pa- mela, I did not think I had shewn so little love to you, as that you should express so much joy upon leaving me. I am sure 1 never had a child half so dear to me as you are." I wept to hear her so good to me, as indeed she has always been ; and said, " What would you have me do, dear Mrs. Jervis ? I love you next to my own father and mother ; and to leave you is the chief concern I have at quitting this place ; but I am sure it is certain ruin if I stay. After such offers, such threatenings, and his comparing himself to a wicked ravisher in the very time of his last offer ; and turning it into a jest, that we should make a pretty story in romance ; can I stay and be safe ? Has he not demeaned himself twice ? It behoves me to beware of the third time, for fear he should lay his snares surer; for, perhaps, he did not expect a poor servant would resist her master so much. And must it not be looked upon as a sort of warrant for such actions, if I stay after this ? Tor, I think, when one of our sex finds she is attempted, it is an encouragement to the attempter to proceed, if one puts one's self in the way of it, when one can help it : it is neither more nor less, than inviting him to think one forgives what, in short, ought not to be for- given ; which is no small countenance in foul actions, I'll assure you." She hugged me to her, and said, " Til assure you ! Pretty face, where gottest thou all thy knowledge, and thy good notions, at these years ? Thou art a miracle for thy age, and 1 shall always love thee. But do you resolve to leave us, Pamela ?" PAMELA; 25 The true Cause of Pamela's ill Treatment. " Yes, my dear Mrs. Jervis," said I : " for as matters stand, how can I do otherwise ? But I'll finish the duties of my place first, if I may* and I hope you'll give me a character, as to my honesty, that it may not be thought I was turned away for any harm." "Aye, that 1 will," said she ; " I will give thee such a character as never a girl at thy years de- served." " I am sure," said I, " I will always love and honour you, as my third best friend, wherever I go, or whatever becomes of me." So we went to bed, and I never waked till it was time to rise ; which I did, as blythe as a bird, and went about my business with great pleasure. May God ever keep your dutiful daughter. LETTER XIX. DEAR FATHER A>\D MOTHER, OUR John having an opportunity to go your way, I write again, and send both letters at once. I cannot say yet when I shall get away, or how I shall come ; because Mrs. Jervis shewed my master the waistcoat I am flowering for him, and he said, " It looks well enough ; I think the creature had best stay till she has finished it." There is some private talk carried on betwixt him and Mrs. Jervis, that she don't tell me of ; but yet she is very kind to me, and I don't mistrust her : I should be very base if I did. But, to be sure, she must oblige bim, and keep all his lawful commands ; and other, I dare say, she won't keep ; she is too good, and loves me too well : but she must stay, when I am gone, and so must get no ill-will. She has been at me again to ask to stay, and humble myself. " But what have I done, Mrs. Jervis ?" said I. " If I have been a sauce-box, a bold-face, a pert, and a creature, as he calls me, have I not had reason ? Do you think I should ever have forgot myself, if he had not forgot to act'as my master ? Tell me from your own heart, dear Mrs. Jervis, if you think I could stay and be safe : what would you think or how would you act, in my case ?" " My dear Pamela," said she, and kissed me, " I don't know how I should act, or what I should think. 1 hope I should act as you do. But I know nobody else that would. My master is a fine gentleman ; he has a great deal of wit and sense, and is admired, as I know, by half a dozen ladies, who would think themselves happy in his addresses. He has a noble estate ; and yet I believe he loves you, though his servant, better than all the ladies in the land : he has tried to overcome it, because you are so much bis inferior; and it is my opinion he finds he can't; and that Vexes his proud heart, and makes him resolve you shan't stay : and so he speaks so cross to you when he sees you by accident." " Well, but, M. Jervis," said I, " let me ask you, if he can stoop to 26 PAMELA. Conversation of Mrs. Jejrvis and Pamela like such a poor girl as me, as perhaps he may (for I have read of things almost as strange, from great men to poor damsels) what can it be for ? He may condescend, perhaps, to think I may be good enough for bis barlot ; and those things don't disgrace men that ruin poor women, as the world goes. And so, if I was wicked enough, be would keep me till I was undone, and till his mind changed ; for even wicked men, I have read, soon grow weary of wickedness with the same person, and love variety. Then poor Pamela must be turned off and looked upon as a vile abandoned creature ; and every body would despise her, and justly too, .._. Mrs. Jervis ; for she that can't keep her virtue, ought to live in disgrace. But, Mrs. Jervis," continued I, " let me tell you, that I hope, if I was sure he would always be kind to me, and never turn me off at all, that I shall have so much grace, as to hate and withstand his temptations, were he not only my master, but my king ; and that for the sin's sake. This my poor dear parents haye always taught me ; and I should be a sad wicked creature, if, for the sake of riches or favour, I should forfeit my good name ; yea, and worse than any other young body of my sex ; because I can so contentedly return to my poverty again, and think it a less disgrace to be obliged to wear rags, and live upon rye-bread and water, as I used to do, than be a harlot to the greatest man in the world." Mrs. Jervis lifted up her hands and had her eyes full of tears. " God bless you, my dear love '." said she : "you are my admiration and delight How shall I do to part with you !" " Well, good Mrs. Jervis," said I, " let me ask you now : You and he have had some talk ; and you may'nt be suffered to tell me all : but do you think if I was to ask to stay, that he is sorry for what he has done ? aye, and ashamed of it too ; for I am sure he ought considering his high degree, and my low degree, and that I have nothing in the world to trust to but my honesty. Do you think, in your own conscience (pray answer me truly) that he would never offer any thing to me again, and that I could be safe ?" " Alas ! my dear child," said she, " don't put thy home questions to me, with that pretty becoming earnestness in thy look. I know this, that he is vexed at what he has done ; he was vexed tbejirst time, more vexed the second time." "Yes," said I, "and so he will be vexed, I suppose, the third and the fourth time too, till he has quite ruined your poor maiden ; and who will have cause to be vexed then ?" " Nay, Pamela," said she, " don't imagine that I would be accessary to your ruin for the world. I only can say, that he has yet done you no hurt ; and 'tis no wonder he should love you, you are so pretty, though so much beneath him : but I dare swear he never will offeryou any force." PAMELA. 27 respecting the Conduct of her Master. " You say," said I, " that he was sorry for his first offer in ihe sum- mer-house. Well, and how long did his sorrow last ? Only till he found me by myself : and then he was worse than before : and so became sorry again. And if he has designed to love me, and you say can't help it, why, he can't help it neither, if he should have an opportunity, a third time to distress me. And I have read, that many a man has been]' ashamed of his wicked attempts, when he has been repulsed, that would! never have been ashamed of them, had he succeeded. Besides, Mrs. Jervis, if he really intends to offer no force, what does that mean ? While you say he can't help liking me for love it cannot be does it not imply that he hopes to ruin me by my own consent ? I think," said I, (and I hope I should have grace to do so) * that I should Aot give way to his temptations on any account ; but it would be very presumptuous in me to rely upon my own strength, against a gentleman of his qualifications and estate, who is my master, and thinks himself entitled to call me bold-face, and what not, only for standing on my defence, and that too, where the good of my soul and body, my duty to God and my parents, are all concerned. How then, Mrs. Jervis," said I, " can I ask or wish to stay ?" " Well, well," says she, " as he seems very desirous you should not stay, I hope it is from a good motivefor fear he should be tempted to dis- grace himself as well as you." " No, no, Mrs. Jervis," said I ; " I have thought of that too ; for I would be glad to consider him with that duty which becomes me : but then he would have let me go to Lady Davers, and not have hindered my preferment ; he would not have said, I should return to my poverty and distress, when by his mother's goodness I had been lifted out of it; but he intended to fright ami, punish me, as he thought, for not complying with his wickedness ; and this shews what 1 have to expect from his future goodness, except I will deserve it at his own dear price." She was silent; and I added, " Well, there's no more to be said; I must go, that's certain ; all my concern will be how to part with you, and, after you, with every/ body ; for all my fellow-servants have loved me : you and they and will often cost me a sigh, and a tear too." So I fell a crying, I could not help it : for it is a pleasant thing to be in a house, among a great many fellow-servants, and be beloved by them all. Nay, I should have told you before now, how kind and civil Mr. Long- man our steward is ; vastly courteous, indeed, on all occasions ! He said once to Mrs. Jervis, he wished he was a young man for my sake ; I should be his wife, and he would settle aH he had upon me on marriage : and you must know he is reckoned worth a power of money. J take no pride in this ; but bless God, and your good examples, my PAMELA. Pamela prepares to leave her Master dear parents, that I have been enabled so to carry myself, as to have every body's good word : not but our cook, one day, who is a little cross sometimes, said once to me, " Why this Pamela of ours goes as fine as a lady. See what it is to have a fine face '. I wonder what the girl will come to at last." She was hot with her work ; and I went away ; for I sel- dom go down into the kitchen. I heart' the butler say, " Why, Jane, nobody has your good word : what has Pamela done to you ? I am sure she offends nobody." " And what," said the peevish wench, " have I said to hsr,foolatum, but that she was pretty ?" They quarrelled afterwards, I heard : I was sorry for it, but troubled myself no more about it. For- give this silly prattle, from your dutiful daughter* Oh ! I forgot to say, that I would stay to finish the waistcoat, if I might with safety : Mrs. Jervis tells me I certainly may. I never had a prettier piece of work ; and I am up early and late to get it over ; for I long to be with you. LETTER XX. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, 1 DID not send my last letters so soon as I hoped, because John (whe- ther my master mistrust or not, I can't say) had been sent to Lady Da-. vers's instead of Isaac, who used to go ; and I could not be so free with, nor so well trust Isaac, though he is very civil to me. So I was forced to stay till John returned. As I may not have opportunity to send again soon, and as I know you keep my letters, and read them over and over (so John told me) when you have done work (so much does your kindness make you love all that comes from your poor daughter) and as it may be some little pleasure to me to read them myself, when I am come to you, to remind me of what I have gone through, and how great God's goodness has been to me (which, I hope, will farther strengthen my good resolutions, that I may not hereafter, from my bad conduct, have reason to condemn myself 1 from my own hand, as it were :) for all these reasons I will write as I have time, and as matters happen, send the scribble to you as I have opportunity ; and if I do not every time, in form subscribe as I ought, I am sure you will always believe, that it is not for want of duty. So I will begin where I left off, about the talk between Mrs. Jrvis and me, for me to ask to stay. Unknown to Mrs. Jervis, I put a project, as 1 may call it, in practice. 1 thought with myself some days ago " Here I shall go home to my poor father and mother, and have nothing on my back that will be fit for my condition ; for how would your poor daughter look with a silk night- gown, silken petticoats, cambric head-clotbes, fine Holland linen, laced shoes, that were my lady's, and fine stockings ! And how in a little while PAMELA. 29 by purchasing Clothes to go home with. roust these have looked like old cast-offs, and I looked so for wearing them ! People would have said (for poor folks are envious as well as rich) '* See there Goody Andrew's daughter, turned home from her fine place ! What a tawdry figure she makes ! How well that garb becomes her poor parents' circumstances !" How would they look upon me, thought I to myself, when they should come to be thread-bare, and worn out ! And how should I look even if I could purchase home-spun clothes, to dwindle into them, one by one, as. I got them ? May be, an old silk gown and a linsey-woolsey petticoat, and the like. So, thought I, I had better get myself equipped in the dress that will become my condition. And though it may look but poor to what I have been used to wear of late days, yet it will serve me, when I am with you, for a good holiday and Sunday suit, and what, by a blessing on my industry, I may perhaps make shift to keep up to. So, as I was saying, unknown to any body, I bought of Farmer Nichols's wife and daughters, a good sad-coloured stuff, of their own spinning, enough to make me a gown and two petticoats ; and I made robings and facing of a pretty bit of printed calico I had by me. I had a pretty good camblet quilted coat that I thought might do to- lerably well ; and I bought two flannel under-coats, not so good as my swan-skin and fine linen ones, but what will keep me warm, if any neigh- bour should get me to help them to milk, as sometimes I used to do for- merly ; for I am resolved to do all your good neighbours what kindness I can, and hope to make myself as much beloved about you as I am here. I got some Scot's cloth, and made me, at mornings and nights, when nobody saw me, two shifts ; I have enough left for two shirts, and two shifts, for you my dear father and mother. When 1 come home, I'll make them for you, and desire your acceptance. Then I bought of a pedlar two pretty round-eared caps, a little straw hat, and a pair of knit mittens, turned up with white calico ; and two pair of blue worsted hose, with white clocks, that make a smartish ap- pearance, I'll assure you ; and two yards of black ribband for my shift sleeves, and to serve as a necklace. When I had them all come home, I went and looked at them once in two hours for two days together: for you must know, though I sleep with Mrs. Jervis, I keep my own apart- ment for my clothes, and nobody goes thither but myself. You'll say I was no bad house-wife to have saved so much money ; but my dear good lady was always giving me something. I believed myself the more obliged to do this, because as I was turned away for what my master thought want of duty, and as he expected other returns for his presents than I intended to make him, I thought 30 PAMELA;: Pamela's Opinion of her Master. it was but just to leave his presents behind me when I went away ; for, you know, if I would not earn his wages, why should I have them. Don't trouble yourself about the four guineas, nor borrow to make them up ; for they were given me, with some silver, as a perquisite, being what my lady had about her when she died ; and, as 1 expect no wages, I am so vain as to think I have deserved all that money in the fourteen months since my lady's death : for she, good soul, over-paid me before, in learning and other kindnesses. Had she lived, none of these things might have happened ! But I ought to be thankful it is no worse. Every thing will turn out for the best ; that's my confidence. So, as I was saying, I have provided a new and more suitable dress, and I long to appear in it, more than ever I did in any new clothes in my life ; for then I shall be soon after with you, and at ease in my mind But mum I Here he comes, I believe I am, &c. LETTER XXI. MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I WAS forced to break off; for I feared my master was coming ; but it proved to be only Mrs. Jervis. She said, " I can't endure you should be so much by yourself, Pamela."" I," said I, " dread nothing so much as company ; for my heart was up at my mouth now, for fear my master was coming. But I always rejoice to see dear Mrs. Jervis." Said she, " I have had a world of talk with my master about you." u I am sorry for it," said I, " that I am made of so much consequence as to be talked of by him." " Oh," said she, " I must not tell you all ; you are of more consequence to him than you think for." " Or wish for," said I ; " for the fruits of being of consequence to him, would make me of none to myself, or any body else," Said she, " Thou art as witty as any lady in the land : I wonder where thou gottest it." But they must be poor ladies, with such great oppor- tunities, I am sure, if they have no more wit than I. But let that pass. " I suppose," said I, " that I am of so much consequence, however, as to vex him, if it be but to think he can't make a fool of such a one as I ; and that is nothing but a rebuke to the pride of his high condition, which he did not expect, and knows not how to put up with." "There is something in that, may be," said she ; "but, indeed, Pa- mela, he is very angry with you too; and calls you twenty perverse things ; wonders at his own folly, to have shewn you so much favour, as he calls it; which he was first inclined to, he says, for his mother's sake, and would have persisted to shew you for your own, if you was not your owi; enemy." PAMELA. 31 Her Fellow-servants hear of her going away. " Nay, now I shan't love you, Mrs. Jervis," said I ; " you are going to persuade me to ask to stay, though you know the hazards I run." '* No," said she, " he says you shall go : for he thinks it won't be for his reputation to keep you ; but he wished (don't speak of it for the world, Pamela) that he knew a lady of birth, just such another as yourself, in person and mind, and he would marry her to-morrow." I coloured up to the ears at this word : but said, " Yet if I was the lady of birth, and he would offer to be rude first, as he has twice done to poor me, I don't know whether I should have him : for she that can bear an insult of that kind, I should think not worthy to be a gentleman's wife, any more than he would be a gentleman that would offer it." " Nay, now, Pamela," said she, ** thou earnest thy notions a great way." " Well, dear Mrs. Jervis," said I, very seriously, for I could not help it, " I am more full of fears than ever. I have only to beg of you, as one of the best friends I have in the world, to say nothing of my asking to stay. To say my master likes me, when 1 know what end he aims at, is abomination to my ears ; and I shan't think myself safe till I am at my poor father's and mother's." She was a little angry with me, till I assured her that I had not the least uneasiness on her account, but thought myself safe under her pro- tection and friendship. And so we dropt the discourse for that time. I hope to have finished the ugly waistcoat in two days ; after which, I have only some linen to get up, and shall then let you know how I con- trive as to my passage ; for the heavy rains will make it sad travelling on foot : but may be I may get a place to, which is ten miles of the way, in Farmer Nichols's close cart ; for I can't sit a horse well at all, and may be nobody will be suffered to see me on upon the way. But I hope to let you know more, from, &c. LETTER XXII. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, ALL my fellow-servants have now some notion that I am to go away ; but can't imagine for what. Mrs. Jervis tells them, that my father and mother growing in years, cannot live without me ! and so I go home to them to comfort their old age, but they seem not to believe it. What they found it out by, was, the butler heard him say to me, as I passed by him, in the entry leading to the hall, " Who's that?"" Pa- mela, Sir," said I. " Pamela !" said he, " how long are yu to stay here." " Only, please your honour," said I, " till I have done the waistcoat ; and it is almost finished." " You might," says he, very roughly, " have finished that long ago." " Indeed, and please your honour," said I, " I have worked early and late upon it : there is a great deal of work in it," 4i PAMELA. Pamela's Fellow-servants enquire the Cause of her leaving. "i . m ' .... i " Work t it .'" said he ; " you mind your peu more than your needle ; 1 don't want such idle sluts to stay in my house." He seemed startled when he saw the butler, as he entered the hall, where Mr. Jonathan stood. " What do you here ?" said he. The butler was as much confounded as 1 ; for, never having been taxed so roughly, I could not help crying sadly ; and got out of both their ways to Mrs. Jervis, and told my complaint. " This love," said she, " is a sad thing ! In how many shapes does it make people shew themselves ! And in some the farthest from their hearts." So one, and then another, has been since whispering, " Pray, Mrs. Jer- vis, are we to lose Mrs. Pamela ?" as they call me. " What has she done ?" and then she tells them as above, about going home to you. She said afterwards to me, " Well, Pamela, you have made our mas- ter, from the sweetest tempered gentlemau in the world, one of the most peevish. But you have it in your power to make him as sweet tempered as ever ; though I hope you'll never do it on his terms." This was very good of Mrs. Jervis, but it intimated, that she thought as ill of his de- signs as I ; and, as she knew his mind more than I, it convinced me that I ought to get away as fast as I could. My master came in, just now, to speak to Mrs. Jervis about household matters, having some company to dine with him to-morrow ; I stood up, and having been crying at his roughness in the entry, I turned away my face. " You may well," said he, " turn away your face ; I wish I had never seen it ! Mrs. Jervis, how long is she to be about this waistcoat ?'* * Sir," said I, " if your honour had pleased, I would have taken it with me ; and, though it would be now finished in a few hours, 1 will do so still, and remove this hated poor Pamela out of your house and sight for ever." " Mrs. Jervis," said he, not speaking to me, " I believe this little slut has the power of witchcraft, if ever there was a witch ; for she enchants all that come near her. She makes even you, who should know better what the world is, think her an angel." I offered to go away ; for I believe he wanted me to ask to stay in my place, for all this his great wrath ; and he said, " Stay here, stay here, when I bid you !" and snatched my hand. I trembled, and said, " I will ! I will '." for he hurt my fingers, he grasped me so hard. He seemed Xo have a mind to say something to me ; but broke off ab- ruptly^and said, " Be gone !" And away I tripped as fast as I could ; and he and Mrs. Jervis had a deal of talk, as she told me ; and, among the rest, he expressed himself vexed to have spoken in Mr. Jonathan's hearing. Now you must know, that Mr. Jonathan, our butler, is a very grave good sort of old man, with his hair as white as silver ; and an honest PAMELA. 33 ~ - Esteem of Pamela's Fellow-servants for her. worthy man he is. I was hurrying out with a flea in my ear, as the saying is, and going down stairs into the parlour, met him. He took hold of my hand (in a gentler manner though than my master) with both his : and he said, " Ah ! sweet, sweet Mrs. Pamela ! what is it I heard but just now ? I am sorry at my heart ; hut I am sure I will sooner believe any body in fault than you."" Thank you, Mr. Jonathan," said I, " but, as you value your place, don't be seen speaking to such a one as me." I cried too ; and slipt away as fast as I could from him, for his own sake, lest he should be seen to pity me. And now I will give you an instance how much I am in Mr. Longman's esteem also. I had lost my pen somehow ; and my paper being written out, I stepped to Mr. Longman's, our steward's office, to beg him to give me a pen or two, and a sheet or two of paper. He said, " Ay, that I will, my sweet maiden !" and gave me three pens, some wafers, a stick of wax, and twelve sheets of paper : and coming from his desk, where he was writing, he said, " Let me have a word or two with you, my sweet little mistress," (for so these two good old gentlemen often call me ; for I be- lieve they, love me dearly.) " I hear bad news ; that we are going to lose you : I hope it is not true?" " Yes, it is, Sir," said I, " but I was in hopes it would not be known till I went away." " What," said be, " can ail our master of late ! I never saw such an alteration in any man in my life '. He is pleased with nobody, as I see ; and by what Mr. Jonathan tells me just now, he was quite out of the way with you. What could you have done to him, tro ? Only Mrs. Jervis is a very good woman, or I should have feared she had been your enemy." " No," said I, " nothing like it. Mrs. Jervis is a just good woman, and, next to my father and mother, the best friend I have in the world."" " Well, then," said he, " it must be worse. Shall I guess ? You are too pretty, my sweet mistress, and may be too virtuous. Ah ! have I not hit it ?" u No, good Mr. Longman," said I, " don't think any thing amiss of my master ; he is cross and angry with me, indeed, that's true ; but I may have given him occasion for it, possibly ; and because I am desirous to go to my father and mother, rather than stay here, perhaps he may think me ungrateful. But, you know, Sir," said I, " that a father and mother's comfort is the dearest thing to a good child that cao be," " Sweet excellence !" said he, " this becomes you; but I know the world and mankind too well ; though I must hear and see, and say nothing I And so a blessing attend my little sweeting," said he, " wherever you go '." And away I went, with a curtsey and thanks. Now this pleases me, my dear father and mother, to be so beloved. How much better it is, by good fame and integrity, to get every one's & 2 E 34 PAMELA. Pamela's Master's Company joke him respecti ng her. good word but one, than by pleasing that one, to make every one else one's enemy, and be an execrable creature besides '. I am, &c. LETTER XXIII. MT DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, WE had a great many neighbouring gentlemen, and their ladies, this day at dinner; and my master made a fine entertainment for them: Isaac, Mr. Jonathan, and Benjamin, waited at table : and Isaac tells Mrs. Jervis, that the ladies will by-and-by come to see the house, and have the curiosity to see me ; for, it seems, they said to my master, when the jokes flew about," Well, Mr. B -,we understand you have a servant-maid who is the greatest beauty in the county ; and, we promise ourselves to see her before we go." " The wnch is well enough," said he, " but no such beauty as you talk of, I'll assure ye. She was my mother's waiting-maid, who, on her death-bed, engaged me to be kind to her. She is young, and every thing is pretty that is young." " Ay, ay," said one of the ladies, " that's true ; but if your mother had not recommended her so strongly, there is so much merit in beauty, that I make no doubt such a fine gentleman would have wanted no in- ducement to be kind to it." They all laughed at my master : and he, it seems, laughed for com- pany ; but said, " I don't know how it is, but I see with different eyes from other people ; for I have heard much more talk of her prettiness, than I think it deserves : she is well enough, as I said ; but her greatest excellence is, that she is humble and courteous, and faithful, and makes all her fellow-servants love her : my house-keeper, in particular, doats upon her : and you know, ladies, she is a woman of discernment : and, as for Mr. Longman, and Jonathan, here, if they thought themselves young enough, I am told they would fight for her. " Is it not true, Jo- nathan ?" " Troth, Sir," said he, " an't please, your honour, I never knew her peer, and all your honour's family are of the same mind." " Do you hear now ?" said my master. " Well," said the ladies, " we will make a visit to Mrs. Jervis, by-and-by, and hope to see this paragon." I believe they are coming ; and will tell you the rest by-and-by. I wish they had come, and were gone. Why can't they make their game without me ? Well, these fine ladies have been here, and are gone back again. 1 would have been absent, if I could, and did step into the closet : but they saw me when they came in. There were four of them : Lady Arthur, at the great white house on the hill, Lady Brooks, Lady Towers, and the other, it seems, a countess, of some hard name, I forget what. PAMELA. 35 The Ladies' Opinions of Pamela. "So, Mrs. Jervis," says one uf the ladies, " how do you do ? We are all come to enquire after your health." " I am much obliged to your ladyships," said Mrs. Jervis : " will your ladyships please to sit down ?" " But," said the countess, " we are not only come to ask after Mrs. Jervis's health, but we are come to see a rarity besides."" Ah," says Lady Ar- thur, " I have not seen your Pamela these two years, and they tell me she is grown wondrous pretty in that time." Then I wished I had not been in the closet ; for when I came out, they must needs know I heard them : but I have often found, that bashful bo- dies owe themselves a spite, and frequently confound themselves more by endeavouring to avoid confusion. " Why, yes," says Mrs. Jervis, " Pamela is very pretty indeed; she's but in the closet there. Pamela, pray step hither." I came out all covered with blushes, and they smiled at one another. The countess took me by the hand. "Why, indeed," she was pleased to say, " report has not been too lavish, I'll assure you. Don't be ashamed, child," (and stared full in my face ;) " I wish I had such a face to be ashamed of." Oh, how like a fool I looked ! Lady Arthur said, " Ay, my good Pamela, I say as her ladyship says : don't be so confused ; though it becomes you too. I think your good departed lady made a sweet choice of such a pretty attendant. She would have been mighty proud of you, as she was always praising you, had she lived till now." "Ah, madam !" said Lady Brooks, " do you think that so dutiful a son as our neighbour, who always admired what his mother loved, does not pride himself, for all what he said at table, in guch a pretty maiden ?" She looked with such a malicious sneering countenance, I can't abide her. Lady Towers said, with a freer air (for it seems she is called a wit) " Well, Mrs. Pamela, I can't say I like you so well as these ladies do ; for I should never care, if you were my servant, to have you and your master in the same house together." Then they all set up a great laugh. I know what I could have said, if I durst. But they are ladies and ladies may say any thing. Says Lady Towers, " Can the pretty image speak, Mrs. Jervis ? I vow she has speaking eyes ! O you little rogue," said she, and tapped me on the cheek, " you seem born to undo, or to be undone !" " God forbid, an' please your ladyship," said 1, " it should be either. I beg," said I, " to withdraw ; for the sense 1 have of my unworthiness renders me unfit for such a presence." I then went away with one of my best curtseys : and Lady Towrs said, E 2 36 PAMELA. True and false "tove. J as I went out, " Prettily said, I vow !" And Lady Brooks said, " See that shape ! I never saw such a face and shape in my life ; why, she must be better descended than you have told me !" And so they ran on for half an hour more, in my praises, as I was told ; and glad I was, when I got out of the hearing of them ! But, it seems, they went down with such a story to my master, and so full of me, that he had much ado to stand it ; but, as it was very little to my reputation, I am sure I could take no pride in it ; and I feared it would make no better for me. This gives me another cause for wishing myself out of this house. This is Thursday morning, and next Thursday I hope to set out ; for I have finished my task, and my master is horrid cross! I am vexed his crossness affects me so. If ever he had any kindness towards me, I believe he now hates me heartily. Is it not strange that love borders so much upon hate ? But this wicked love is not like the true virtuous love, to be sure : that and hatred must be as far off as light and darkness. And how must this hate have been increased, if he had met with a base compliance, after his wicked will had been gratified ? Well, we may see by a little what a great deal means. For if innocence cannot attract common civility, what must guilt expect, when novelty has ceased to have its charms, and changeableness has taken place of it ? Thus we read in holy writ, that wicked Amnion, when he had ruined poor Tamar, hated her more than ever he had loved her, and would have turned her out of doors. How happy am I, to He turned out of doors with that sweet companion, my innocence! Oh, may that be always my companion! And while I presume not upon my own strength, and am willing to avoid the tempter, I hope the Divine Grace will assist me. Forgive me, that I repeat in my letter part of my hourly prayer. I owe every thing next to God's goodness, to your piety and good examples, my dear parents, my dear poor parents ! I say that word with pleasure; for your poverty is my pride, as your integrity shall be my imitation. As soon as I have dined I will put on my new clothes. I long to have them on. 1 know I shall surprise Mrs. Jervis with them ; for she shan't see me till I am full dressed. John is come back, and I'll soon send yon some of what I have written. I find he is going early in the morning ; and so I'll close here that I am your most dutiful daughter. Don't lose your time in meeting me : because I am so uncertain. U is hard if I can't get a passage to you. i>ut may be my master won't refuse to let John bring me- I can ride behind him, I brUere wU PAMELA. 37 Pamela puts on her new Clothes. enough ; for he is very careful, and very honest ; you know John as well as I : he loves you both. Besides, may be Mrs. Jervis can put me in l some way. LETTER. XXIV. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I SHALL write as long as I stay, though I shall have nothing but silli- ness to write ; for I know you divert yourselves on nights with what I write, because it is mine. John tells me how much you long for my coming ; but he says, he told you he hoped something would happen to hinder it. I am glad you did not tell him the occasion of my coming away ; for \f my fellow-servants should guess, it were better so, than to have it from you or me ; besides, I really am concerned that my master should cast away a thought upon such a poor creature as me ; for, besides the dis- grace, it has quite turned his temper ; and I begin to believe what Mrs. Jervis told me, that he likes me, and can't help it ; and yet strives to conquer it, and so finds no way but to be cross to me. Don't think me presumptuous and conceited ; for it is more my con- cern than my pride, to see such a gentleman so demean himself, and lessen the regard he used to have in the eyes of all his servants, on my account. But I am to tell you of my new dress to-day. And so when I had dined, up stairs I went, and locked myself up in my little room. There I dressed myself in my new garb, and put on my round-eared ordinary cap, but with a green knot, my home-spun gown and petticoat, and plain leather shoes, but yet they are what they call Spanish leather ; and my ordinary hose, ordinary I mean to what I have been lately used to, though I should think good yarn may do very well for every day, when I come home. A plain muslin tucker I put on, and my black silk necklace, instead of the French necklace my lady gave me ; and put the ear-rings out of my ears. When I was quite equipped, I took my straw hat in my hand, with its two blue strings, and looked in the glass, as proud as any thing. To say truth, I never liked myself so well in my life. O the pleasure of descending with ease, innocence, and resignation ! indeed there is nothing like it ! A humble mind, I plainly see, cannot meet with any very shocking disappointment, let Fortune's wheel turn round as it will. So I went down to look for Mrs. Jervis, to see how she liked me. I met, as I was upon the stairs, our Rachel, who is the housemaid ; she made me a low curtsey, and 1 found did not know me. .1 smiled, and went to the housekepeer's parlour : there sat good Mrs. Jervis at work, making a shift : and, would you believe it ? she did not know me at E 3 38 PAMELA. Pamela introduced to her Master in her new Dress. first ; but rose up, pulled off her spectacles and, said, " Do you want me forsooth?" I could not help laughing, and said, " Hey-day ! Mrs. Jervis, what, don't you know me ?" She stood all in amaze, and looked at me from top to toe : Why, you surprise me," said she ; " What, Pa- mela ! thus metamorphosed ! How came this about ?" As it happened, in stepped my master ; and my back being to him, he thought it was a stranger speaking to Mrs. Jervis, and withdrew again ; and did not hear her ask if his honour had any commands for her. She turned me about and about, and I sbewed her all my dress, to my under petticoat ; she said, sitting down, " Why, I am amazed ! I must sit down. What can all this mean ?" I told her I had no clothes suitable to my condition when 1 returned to my father's ; and so it was better to begin here, as I was soon to go away, that all my fellow-servants might see I knew how to suit myself to the state I was returning to. " Well," said she, " I never knew the like of thee. But this sad pre- paration for going away (for now I see you are quite in earnest) is what I know not how to get over, O my dear Pamela, how can I part with you! '' My master rung in the back-parlour, and so I withdrew, and Mrs. Jervis went to attend him. He said to her, " I was coming in to let you know that I shall go to Lincolnshire, and possibly to my sister Davers's, and be absent some weeks. But, pray, what pretty neat damsel was with you ?" She says she smiled, and asked if his honour did not know who it was. " No," said he ; "I never saw her before. Farmer Nichols, or farmer Brady, have neither of them such a tight prim lass for a daugh- ter, have they .'Though I did not see her face, neither," said he. " If your honour won't be angry," said she, " I will introduce her into your presence ; for I think she outdoes our Pamela." Now I did not thank her for this, as I told her afterwards (for it brought a great deal of trouble upon me as well as crosses, as you shall hear.) u That can't be," he was pleased to say ; " but if you can find an excuse for it, let her come in." At that she stepped to me, and told me I must go in with her to my master ; " But," said she, " for goodness sake, let him find you out, for he don't know you." " O fie, Mrs. Jervis," said I, " how could you serve me so ? Besides, it looks too free both in me and to him." 1 ' I tell you," said she, "you shall come in ; and pray don't reveal yourself till he finds you out." So I went in, foolish as I was : though I must have been seen by him another time, if I had not then. And she would make me take my straw- hat in my hand. I dropt a low curtsey, but said never a word. I dare say he knew m PAMELA. 39 Pamela assigns a Canse for her new Dress. as soon as he saw my face ; but was as cunning as Lucifer. He came up to me, and took me by the hand, and said, " Whose pretty maiden are you ? I dare say you are Pamela's sister, you are so like her. So neat, so clean, so pretty ! Why, child, you far surpass your sister Pamela !" I was all confusion, and would have spoken, but he took me about the neck : " Why," said he, " you are very pretty, child : I would not be so free with your sister, you may believe ; but I must kiss you." " O Sir," said I, " I am Pamela, indeed I am : indeed I am Pamela, her own-self!" He kissed me for all I could do : and said, " Impossible ! you are a lovelier girl by half than Pamela ; and sure I may be innocently free with you, though I would not do her so much favour." This was a sad trick upon me indeed, and what I could not expect ; and Mrs. Jervis looked like a fool as much as I, for her officiousness. At last I got away, and ran out of the parlour, most sadly vexed as you may woll think. He talked a good deal to Mrs. Jervis, and at last ordered me to come in to him. " Come in," said he, " you little villain !" for so he called me. Good Sirs, what a name was there! "Who is it you put your tricks upon ? I was resolved never to honour your unwort-hiness," said he, " with so much notice again ; and so you must disguise yourself to attract me, and yet pretend, like a hypocrite as you are '* I was out of patience then : " Hold, good Sir," said I; " don't impute disguise and hypocrisy to me, above all things ; for I hate them both, mean as I am. I have put on no disguise." " What a plague," said he, for that was his word, " do you mean then by this dress ?" " Why, and please you honour," said I, " I mean one of the honestest things in the world. I have been in. disguise, indeed, ever since my good lady your mother took me from my poor parents. I came to her ladyship so poor and mean, that these clothes I have on, are a princely suit to those I had then : and her goodness heaped upon me rich clothes, and other bounties . 'and as I am now returning to my poor parents again so soon, I cannot wear those good things without being hooted at : and so have bought what will be more suitable to my degree, and be a good holiday suit too, when I get home." He then took me in his arms, and presently pushed me from him " Mrs. Jervis," said he, " take the little witch from me ; I can neither bear nor forbear her." Strange words these '. " But stay ; you shan't go ! Yet begone ! No, come back again." I thought he was mad : for he knew not what he would have. I was going, however, but he stept after me, and took hold of my arm, and brought me in again : I am sure he made my arm black and blue, for the f. 4 40 PAMELA. - .---.--.--,. . . . _ Pamela urges her Master to let her retnrn home. marks are upon it still. " Sir$ Sir," said I, " pray have mercy ; I will, I will come in." He sat down, and looked at me, and, as I thought afterwards, *s -sillily as such a poor girl as I. At last he said, " Well, Mrs. Jervis, as I was telling you, you may permit her to stay a little longer, till I see if my sister Davers will have her ; if, meantime, she humble herself, and ask this as a favour, and is sorry for her pertness, and the liberty she has taken with my character, in and out of the house.''^ " Your honour told me so," said Mrs. Jervis : " but I never found her inclinable to think herself in a fault." " Pride and perverseness," said he, " with a venge- ance ! Yet this is your doating-piece ! Well, for once, I'll submit myself to tell you, hussy," said he to me, "you may stay a fortnight longer, till I see my sister Davers : do you hear what I say to you, statue ? Can you neither speak nor be thankful ?" " Your honour frights me so," said I, " that I can hardly speak : but I will venture to say, that I have only to beg, as a favour, that 1 may go to ray father and mother." " Why, fool," said he, " won't you like to go to wait on my sister Davers ?" " Sir," said I, " I was once fond of that honour: but you were pleased to say, I might be in danger from her ladyship's nephew, or he from me." " Imper- tinence," said he ; " do you hear, Mrs. Jervis ; do you hear how she re- torts upon me ? Was ever such matchless assurance ?" I then fell a weeping ; for Mrs. Jervis said, " Fie, Pamela, fie." And I said, " My lot is very hard indeed. I am sure I would hurt nobody ; and I have been, it seems, guilty of indiscretions, which have cost me my place, and my master's favour, and so have been turned away : and when the time is come, that I should return to my poor parents, I am not suffered to go quietly. Good, your honour, and what have I done, that I should be used worse than if I had robbed you ? " Robbed me !" said he, " why so you have, hussy ; you have robbed me." " Who, I, Sir ?" said I ; " Have I robbed you ? Why then you are a justice of peace, and may send me to jail, if you please, and bring me to a trial for my life ! If you can prove that I have robbed you, I am sure I ought to die." Now I was quite ignorant of his meaning ; though I did not like it, when it was afterwards explained, neither : " And, well," thought I, "what will this come to at last, if poor Pamela is esteemed a thief!" Then I thought in an instant, how I should shew my face to my honest poor parents, if I was but suspected. " But, Sir," said 1 " let me asK you but one question, and pray don't let me be called names for it ; for I don't mean disrespectfully : why, if I have done amiss, am I not left to be discharged by your housekeeper, PAMELA. 41 Suspicions of Pamela. as the other maids have been ?' And if Jane, or Rachel, or Hannah, were to offend, would your honour stoop to take notice of them ? And why should you so demean yourself to take notice of me? Pray, Sir, if I have not been worse than others, why should I suffer more than others ? Why should I not be turned away, and there's an end of it ? For indeed I am not of consequence enough for my master to concern himself, and be an- gry about such a creature as me." " Do you hear, Mrs. Jervis," cried he again, " how pertly I am inter- rogated by this saucy slut ? Why, sauce-box," says he, " did not my good mother desire me to take care of you ? And have you not been always distinguished by me above a common servant ? And does your ingratitude upbraid me for this ?" I said something mutteringly, and he vowed he would hear it. I beg- ged excuse, but he insisted upon it. " Why, then," said I, " if your honour must know, I said, that my good lady did not desire your care to extend to the summer-house, and her dressing-room." Well, this was a little saucy, you'll say And he flew into such a pas- sion, that I was forced to run for it ; and Mrs. Jervis said, it was happy I got out of the way. Why, what minces him provoke one so, then ? I'm almost sorry for it; but I would be gjad to ijet away at any rate. For I begin to be more fearful now. Just now Mr. Jonathan sent me these lines (Bless me ! what shall I do?) " DEAR MRS. PAMELA, " Take care of yourself; for Rachel heard my master say to Mrs. Jer- vis, who, she believes was pleading for you,' Say no more, Mrs. Jervis, for I will have her.' Burn this instantly." O pray for your poor daughter. I am called to go to bed by Mrs. Jer- vis, for it is past eleven, and I am sure she shall hear of it ; for all this is owing to her, though she did not mean any harm. But I have been, and am, in a strange fluster; and I suppose, too, she'll say I have been full pert. O my dear father and mother, power and riches never want advocates ! But, poor gentlewoman, she cannot live without him : and he has been very good to her. So good night. May be I shall send this in the morn- ing ; but may be not ; so won't conclude, though 1 can't say too often, that I am (though with great apprehension) your most dutiful daughter. LETTER XXV. MY DEAR PARENTS, O LET me take up my complaint, and say, "Never was poor creature so unhappy, and so barbarously used as poor Pamela." Indeed, my dear 42 PAMELA. Pamela's Master hides himself in the Closet. father and mother, my heart's just broke! I can neither write as I should, nor let it alone : to whom but you can I vent my griefs, and keep my poor lieart from bursting ! Wicked, wicked man ! I have no patience when I think of him ! But yet, don't be frighted, for I hope I am ho- nest ! If my head and my hand will let roe you shall hear all. Is there no cofRtable or head-borough, to take me out of his house ? I am sure I can safely swear the peace against him : but, alas ! he is greater than any constable : he is a justice : from such a justice deliver me ! But God almighty, I hope, in time will right me ; for he knows the innocence of my heart ! John went your way in the morning : but I have, been too much dis- tracted to send by him ; and have seen nobody but Mrs. Jervis, or Rachel, and one I hate to see or be seen by : and indeed I hate now to see any body. Strange things I have to tell you, that happened since last night, that good Mr. Jonathan's letter, and my master's harshness, put me in such a fluster ; but I will not keep you in suspense. I went to Mrs. Jervis's chamber; and, oh, dreadful ! my wicked master hid himself, base man as he is, in her closet, where she has a few books, a chest of drawers, and such like. I little suspected it ; though I used, till this night, always to look into that closet, and another in the room, also under the bed, ever since the summer-house trick> but never found any thing; therefore I did not do it then, being resolved to be angry with Mrs. Jervis for what had happened in the day, so thought of nothing else. I sat myself down on one side of the bed, and she on the other ; we began to undress ourselves ; but she on that side next the wicked closet that held the worst heart in the world. " So," said Mrs. Jervis, " you won't speak to me, Pamela! I find you are angry with me." "Why, Mrs. Jervis," said I, " I am a little ; tis a folly to deny it. You see what I have, suffered by your forcing me in to my master: a woman of your years and experience must needs know, that it was not fit for me to pretend to be any body else for my own sake, nor with regard to my master." " But," said she, " who would have thought it would have turned out so?" :*' Ay," said I, little thinking who heard me, " Lucifer always is ready to promote his own work and workmen. You see what use he makes of it, pretending not to know me, on purpose to be free with me. And when he took upon himself to know me, to quarrel with me, and use me hardly : and you too," said I, " to cry, ' Fie, fie, Pamela!' cut me to the heart." " Do you think, my dear," said she, " that I would encourage him ? I never said so to you before ; but since you forced it from me, 1 must tell PAMELA. 43 Mrs. Jervis's Snspicions of Pamela's Master. yon, that ever since you consulted me, I have used my utmost endeavours to divert him from his wicked purposes ; and he has promised fair ; but, to say all in a word, he doats upou you ; and I begin to see it is not in his power to help it." I luckily said nothing of the note from Mr. Jonathan : I began to sus- pect all the world : but 1 said, to try Mrs. Jervis, "Well, then, what would you have me do ? You see he is for having me wait on Lady Da- vers now." " Why, I'll tell you freely, my dear Pamela," said she, " and I trust to your discretion to conceal what I say : my master has been often desiring me to put you upon asking him to let you stay " " Yes," said I, " Mrs. Jervis, let me interrupt you ; I will tell you why I could not think of that : it was not the pride of my heart ; but the pride of my honesty ; for what must have been the case ? Here my master has been very rude to me, once and twice : and you say he cannot help it, and is sorry for it : he has given me warning to leave my place, and uses me very harshly ; perhaps, to frighten me to his purposes, as he supposes I would be fond of staying (as indeed I should, if I could be safe ; for I love you and all the house, and value him, if he would act as my master.) Well, then, as I know his designs^ and that he owns he cannot help it, must I have asked to stay, knowing he would attempt me again ? For all you could assure me of was, he would do nothing by force ; so I, a poor weak girj, was to be left to my own strength ! Was not this to allow birh to tempt me, as one may say ? and to encourage him to go on in his wicked devices ? How, then, Mrs. Jervis, could I ask or wish to stay ?" ." You say well, my dear child," says she ; " and you have a justness of thought above your years, and for all these considerations, and for what I have heard this day, after you ran away (and I am glad you went as you did) I cannot persuade you to stay ; T should be glad (which is what I never thought I could have said) that, you were well at your father's ; for if Lady Davers will entertain you, she may as well have you from thence as here?" "There's my good Mrs. Jervis?" said I ; "God will bless you for your good counsel to a poor maiden, that is hard beset. But pray, what did he say, when I was gone?" " Why," says she, " he was very angry with you." " But he would hear it !" said I : " 1 think it was a little bold : but then he provoked me to it. And had not my honesty been in the case, I would not by any means have been so saucy. Be- sides, Mrs. Jervis, consider it was the truth ; if he does not love to hear of the summer-lwuse and the dressing-room, why should he not be ashamed to continue in the same mind?" " But," said she, " when you had muttered this to yourself, you might have told him any thing else." " Well," sakl I, " I cannot tell a wilful lie, and so there's an end of it. 44 PAMELA. Pamela's Master makes an Attempt on her Virtue. i But I find you now give him up, and think there's danger in staying. J Bless me ! I wish I was well out of the house ; though it was at the bottom of a wet ditch, on the wildest common in England." " Why," says she, " it signifies nothing to tell you all he said ; but it was enough to make me fear you would not be as safe as I could wish : and, upon my word, Pamela, I don't wonder he loves you ; for, without flattery, you are a charming girl ! I never saw you look more lovely in my life than in that'new dress of yours. And then it was such a surprise npon us all ! I believe truly you owe some of your danger to the lovely appearance you made." " Then," said I, " I wish the clothes in the fire : I expected no effect from them ; but if any, a quite contrary one." " Hush !" said I, " Mrs. Jervis, did you not hear something stir in the closet ?" " No, silty girl," said she ; " your fears are always awake." *' But," said I, " I think I heard something rustle." " May be," says she, " the cat may be got there ; but I hear nothing." 1 was hush , but she said, " Pr'ythee, my good girl, make haste to bed. See if the door be fast." I did, and was thinking to look into the closet ; but, hearing no more noise, thought it needless, and so went again and sat myself down on the bed-side, and went on undressing myself. And Mrs. Jervis, being by this time undressed, stepped into bed, and bid me hasten, for she was sleepy. I don't know what was the matter, but ray heart sadly misgave me : indeed, Mr. Jonathan's note was enough to make it do so, with what Mrs. Jervis had said. Then bearing a rustling again in the closet, " Hea\en protect us ! But before I say my prayers I must look into this closet." And so was going to it slip-shod, when, oh, dreadful ! out rushed my mas- ter, in a rich silk and silver morning-gown. I screamed, ran to the bed, and Mrs. Jervis screamed too ; he said, " I'll do you no harm if you forbear this noise ; but otherwise take what follows." Instantly he came to the bed (for I had crept to it, to Mrs. Jervis) and taking me in his arms, said, " Mrs. Jervis, rise, and just step up stairs, to keep the maids from coming down at this noise : I'll do no harm to this rebel." " O for Heaven's sake ! for pity's sake ! Mrs. Jervis," said I, " if I am not betrayed, don't leave me ; and, I beseech you, raise all the house." " No," said Mrs. Jervis, " I will not stir, my dear lamb ; I will not leave you. 1 wonder at you, Sir," said she ; and kindly threw herself upon my coat, clasping me round the waist: " You shall not hurt this innocent," said she; " for I will lose my life in her defence. Are there not," said she, " enough wicked ones in the world, for yoiw base purpose, but you must attempt such a lamb as this ?" PAMELA. 45 Deplorable Condition of Pamela from the Villany of her Master. He was desperate angry, and threatened to throw her out of the win- dow ; ami turn her out of the house the next morning. " You need not, Sir," said she ; " for I will not stay in it. God defend my poor Pamela till to-morrow, and we will both go together." Says he, " Let me but expostulate a word or two with you, Pamela." " Pray, Pamela," said Mrs. Jervis, " don't hear a word, except he leaves the bed, and goes to the other end of the room." " Ay, out of the room," said I. " Expostulate tovmorrow, if you must expostulate !" I was ready to die ; I sighed, screamed, and fainted away. And still he had his arms about my neck ; Mrs. Jervis wasarjiout my feet, and upon my coat. And all in a cold dewy sweat was I. "Pamela! Pa- mela!" says Mrs. Jervis, as she tells me since, "O h !" and gave an- other shriek, " my poor Pamela is dead for certain !" And so I was for a time ; for I knew nothing more of the matter, one fit followed another, till about three hours after, I found myself in bed, and Mrs. Jervis sitting up on one side, with her wrapper about her, and Rachel on the other ; but no master, for the wicked wretch was gone. I was so overjoyed that I hardly could believe myself; I said, which were my first words, " Mrs. Jervis Mrs. Rachel, can I be sure it is you? Tell me, can I ? Where have I been ?" " Hush, my dear," said Mrs. Jervis ; " you have been in fit after fit. I never saw any body so frightful in my life !" By this I judged Rachel knew nothing of the matter ; and it seems my wicked master had, upon Mrs. Jervis's second noise on my fainting away, slipped out; and, as if he had come from his own chamber disturbed by the screaming, went up to the maids' room (who, hearing the noise, lay trembling, afraid to stir) bid them go down and see what was the matter with Mrs. Jervis and me. He charged Mrs. Jervis, and promised to for- give her for what she had said and done, if she would conceal the matter. So the maids came down ; and all went up again, when I came to myself ai little, except Rachel, wbo staid to sit up with me, and bear Mrs. Jervis company. I believe they all guess the matter to be bad enough ; though they dare not to say any thing. When I think of my danger, and the freedoms he actually took, though I believe Mrs. Jervis saved me from worse, and she says she did (though what can I think, who was in a fit and knew nothing of the matter ?) I am almost distracted. At first I was afraid of Mrs. Jervis, but I am fully satisfied she is very good, and I should have been lost but for her ; she takes on grievously about it. What would have become of me, had she gone out of the room to still the maids, as he bid her ? He'd certainly have shut her out ; then, mercy on me ! what would have become of your poor Pamela ! I must leave off a little ; for my eyes and my head are sadly bad. This 46 PAMELA. Candid Epostulation of Mrs. Jervis with Pamela's Master. was a dreadful trial ! This was the worst of all ! Oh ! that I was out of the power of this dreadfully wicked man 1 Pray for your distressed daughter. LETTER XXVI. MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I DID not rise till ten o'clock, and I had all the concerns and wishes of the family, and multitudes of enquiries about me. My wicked master went out early to hunt ! but left word that he would be in to breakfast. And so he was. He came up to our chamber about eleven, and had no- thing to do to be sorry, for he was our master, and so put on sharp anger i at first. I had great emotions at his entering the room, and threw my apron over my head, and fell a crying, as if my heart would break. " Mrs. Jervis," said he, " since I know you and you me so well, I don't know how we shall live together for the future." "Sir," said she, " I will take the liberty to say, what I think is best for both. I have so much grief, that you should attempt to do any injury to this poor girl, and especially in my chamber, that I should think myself accessary to the mischief, if I was not to take notice of it. Though my ruin may de- pend upon it, I desire not to stay, but pray let poor Pamela and me go together." " With all my heart," said he, " and the sooner the better." She fell a crying. " 1 find," says he, " this girl has made a party of the ; whole house in her favour against me." " Her innocence deserves it of 1 us all," said she, very kindly : " and I never could have thought that the son of my dear good lady departed could have so forfeited his honour, as to endeavour to destroy a virtue he ought to protect."-" No more of this, Mrs. Jervis '." said he ; " I will not bear it. As for Pamela, she has a lucky knack of falling into fits when she pleases. But the yellings of you both made me not myself. I intended no harm to her, as I told you both, if you'd have left your squallings : and I did no harm neither, but to myself; for I raised a hornet's nest about mv ears, that, as far as I know, may have stung to death my reputation." " Sir," said Mrs. Jervis, " then I beg Mr. Longman may take my accounts, and I will go away as soon as I can. As for Pamela, she is at her liberty, I hope to go away next Thursday, as she intends ?" I sat still ; for I could not speak nor look up, and his presence dis- composed me extremely ; but I was sorry to hear myself the unhappy occasion of Mrs. Jervis's losing her place, and hope it may still be made up. " Well," said he, " let Mr. Longman make up your accounts as soon as you will ; and Mrs. Jewkes' (who is his housekeeper in Lincolnshire) " shall come hither in your place, and won't be less obliging, I dare say, than^ow have been." She said, " I have never disobliged you till nowj PAMELA. 47 Mrs. Jervis and Pamela resolve to leave their Master. and let me tell you, Sir, if you know not what belonged to your own re- putation or honour " " No more, no more," said he, " of these anti quated topics. 1 have been a friend to you ; I shall always esteem you, though you have not been so faithful to my secrets as I could have wished, and have laid me open to this girl, which has made her more afraid of me than she had occasion." " Well, Sir," said she, " after what passed yes- terday and last night, I think I went rather too far in favour of your injunctions than otherwise ; I should have deserved every body's censure, as the basest of creatures, bad I been capable of contributing to your lawless attempts." " Still, Mrs. Jervis, still reflecting upon me, and all for imaginary faults ! what harm have I done the girl ? I won't bear it, I'll assure you. But yet, in respect to my mother, I am willing to part friendly with you : though you ought both to reflect on the freedom of your conversation, in relation to me ; which I should have resented more than I do, but that I am conscious I had no business to demean myself so as to be in your closet, where 1 might have expected to hear much im- pertinence between you." " Well, Sir," said she, " you have no objection, I hope, to Pamela's going away on Thursday next ?" " You are mighty solicitous," said he, " about Pamela : but no, not I ; let her go as soon as she will : she is a naughty girl, and has brought all this upon herself; and upon me more trouble than she can have had from me : but I have overcome it all, and I will never concern myself about her." " I have had a proposal made me," added he, " since I have been out this morning, that I shall go near to embrace ; and so wish only that a discreet use may be made of what is past ; and there's an end of every thing with me, as to Pamela, I'll assure you." I clasped my hands together through my apron, overjoyed at this, though I was soon to go away : for, naughty as he has been to me, I wish his prosperity with all my heart, for my good old lady's sake. * " Well, Pamela," said he, " you need not now be afraid to speak to me , tell me what you lifted up your hands at r" I said not a word. Says he, " If you like what I have said, give me your hand upon it." I held my hand up through my apron ; for I could not speak to him ; and he took hold of it, and pressed it, though less hard than he did my arm the day before. " What does the little fool cover her face for ?" said he : " pull your apron away, and let me see how you look, after your freedom of speech of me last night. No wonder you're ashamed to see me. You know you were very free with my character." I could not. stand this barbarous insult, as I took it to be, considering his bt- hivjour to me ; and I then spoke and said, " O the difference 48 PAMELA. Pamela's Master dresses in bis birth-day Suit. between the minds of thy creatures, great God ! How shall some be cast down in their innocence, while others can triumph in their guilt !" And so saying, I went up stairs to my chamber and wrote all this ; for though he vexed me at his taunting, yet I was pleased to hear he was likely to be married, and that his wicked intentions were so happily overcome as to me ; and this made me a little easier. I hope I have passed the worst ; or jse it is very hard. And yet I shan't think myself quite at ease till I am with you : for, methinks, after all, his repentance and amendment are mighty suddenly resolved upon. But the Divine Grace is not confined to space ; and remorse may, and I hope has, smit- ten him to the heart at once, for his injuries to poor me ! Yet I won't be too secure neither. Having opportunity, I send now what I know will grieve you to the heart. But I hope I shall bring my next scribble myself ; and so con- clude, though half broken-hearted, your ever dutiful daughter LETTER XXVII. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I AM glad I desired yoju not to meet roe, and John says you won't ; for he told you, he is sure I should get a passage well enough, either behind some of my fellow-servants on horseback, or by Farmer Nichols's means ; but as to the chariot he talked to you of, I can't expect that favour, to be sure ; and I should not care for it, because it would look so much above me. But Farmer Brady, they say, has a chaise with one horse, and we hope to borrow that, or hire it, rather than fail ; though money runs a little lowish, after what I have laid out ; but I don't care to say so here ; though I warrant I might have what I would of Mrs. Jervis, or Mr. Jona- than, or Mr. Longman ; but then how shall I pay it, you'll say : and be- sides, I don't like to be beholden. But the chief reason I'm glad you don't set out to meet me, is the un- certainty ; for it seems I must stay another week still, and hope cer- tainly to go Thursday after. For poor Mrs. Jervis will go at the same time, she says, and can't be ready before. Oh ! that 1 was once well with you ! though he is very civil to me at present, and not so cross as he was ; and yet he is as vexatious another way, as you shall hear. For yesterday he had a rich suit of clothes brought home, which they call a birth-day suit ; for he intends to go to London against next birth-day, to see the court; and our folks will have it he is to be made a lord. I wish they may make him an honest man, as he was al- ways thought ; but I have not found it so, alas for me '. And so, as I was saying, he had these clothes come home, and he tried them on. And before he pulled them off, he sent for me, when nobody PAMELA. 49 / Conversation of Pamela and lier Master. else was in the parlour with him : " Pamela," said he, " you are so neat and so nice in your own dress (alack-a-day, I didn't know I was !) that you must be a judge of ours. How are these clothes made ? Do they fit me ?" " I am no judge," said I, " and please your honour ; hut I think they look very fine." His waistcoat stood on end with silver lace, and he looked very grand. But what he did last has made me very serious, and I could make him no compliments. Said he, " Why don't you wear your usual clothes ?-~ Though I think every thing looks well upon you :" (for I still continue in my new dress.) -I said, " I have no clothes, Sir, I ought to call my own, hut these : and it is no matter what such an one as I wears." Said he, *' Why, you look very serious, Pamela. I see you can bear malice." " Yes, so I can, Sir," said I, " according to the occasion !" " Why," said he, " your eyes always look red, I think. Are you not a fool to take my last freedom so much to heart ? I am sure you and that fool Mrs. Jervis, frightened me by your hideous squalling, as much as I could frighten you." " That is all we had for it," said I ; " and if you could be so afraid of your own servants knowing of your attempts upon a poor unworthy creature, who is under your protection while I stay, surely your honour ought to be more afraid of God Almighty, in whose presence we all stand, in every action of our lives, and to whom the greatest, as well as the least, must be accountable, let them think what they will." He took my hand in a kind of good-humoured mockery, and said, " Well urged, my pretty preacher! When my Lincolnshire chaplain dies, I'll put thee on a gown and cassock, and thou'lt make a good figure in his ph-^ce." " I wish." said I, a little vexed at his jeer, " your honour's con- / science would be your preacher, and then you would need no other chap- / lain." "Well, well, Pamela," said he, " no more of this unfashionable jargon. I did not send for you so much for your opinion of my new suit, as to tell you you are welcome to stay, since Mrs. Jervis desires it, till she goes." " I welcome!" said 1 ; " I shall rejoice when I am out of the house \" " Well," said he, " you are an ungrateful baggage ; but I am think- ing it would be a pity, with these fair soft hands, and that lovely skin" (as he called it, and took hold of my hand) " that you should return again to hard work, as you must, if you go to your father's ; and so 1 would advise her to take a house in London, and let lodgings to us mem- bers of Parliament, when we came to town ; and such a pretty daughter as you may pass for, will always fill her house, and she'll get a great de;J of money." I was sadly vexed at his barbarous joke ; but being ready to cry before. the tears gushed out, and (endeavouring to get my hand from him, l>u< in 3 r 50 PAMELA. Conversation of Pamela and her Master. vain) I said, " I can expect no better : your behaviour, Sir, to me, has been just of a piece with these words : nay, I will say't, though you were to be ever so angry." " I angry, Pamela! No, no," said he, " I have overcome all that ; and as you are to go away, I look upon you now as Mrs. Jervis's guest while you both stay, and not as my servant ; and so you may say what you will. But, I'll tell you, Pamela, why you need not take this matter in such high disdain ! You have a pretty romantic turn for virtue, and all that. And I don't suppose but you'll hold it still, and nobody will be able to" prevail upon you. But, my girl" (fleeringly he spoke it) " do but consider what a fine opportunity you will then have, for a tale every day to good mother Jervis, and what subjects for letter- writing, to your father and mother, and what pretty preachments you may hold forth to the young gentlemen. Ad's my heart ! I think it would be the best tiling you and she could do." " You do well, Sir," said I, " to even your wit to to remain with lier Maste. to let me know as much by-the-by, he told her ! Here's shamelessness for you ! Sure the world must be near at an end ; for all the gentlemen here are as bad as he, as far as I can hear ! And see the fruits of such bad examples ! There is Squire Martin, in the Grove, has had three ly- ings-in, it seems, in his house, in three months past; one by himself, one by his coachman, and one by his woodman, yet he has turned none of them away. Indeed, how can he, when they but follow his own vile ex- ample ? There is he, and two or three more such as he, within ten miles of us ; who keep company, and hunt with our fine master, truly ; and I suppose he's never the better for their examples. But, Heaven bles3 me, say I, arid send me out of this wicked house. But, dear father and mother, what sort of creatures must the women- kind be, do you think, to give way to such wickedness ? Why, this it is that makes every one to be thought of alike : and, a-lack-a-day ! what a world we live in ! for it is grown more a wonder that the men are resisted, than that the women comp'y. This, I suppose, makes me such a sauce- box, and bold-face, and a creature ; and all because I won't be a sauce- box and bold-face indeed. But I am sorry for these things ; one don't know what arts and stra- tagems men-may devise to gain their vile ends ; and so I will think as well as I can of these poor undone creatures, and pity them. For you see, by my sad story, and narrow escapes, what hardships poor maidens go / through whose lot it is to go out to service, especially to houses where I there is not the fear of God, and good rule kept by the heads of the family. You see I am quite grown grave and serious ; indeed it becomes the present condition of your dutiful daughter. LETTER XXVIII. DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, JOHN says you wept when you read my last letter that he carried. I am sorry you let him see that ; for they all mistrust already how matters are ; and, as it is no credit that I have been attempted, though it is that I have resisted ; yet I am sorry they have cause to think so evil of my master from any of us. Mrs. Jervis has made up her accounts with Mr. Longman, and will stay in her place. I am glad of it for her own sake, and for my master's ; for she has a good master of him : so indeed all have, but poor me ; and he has a good housekeeper in her. Mr. Longman, it seems, took upon him to talk to my master, how faith- ful und arvful of hi", interests Sue was, and Low evact in her accounts : r ': 52 PAMELA. Mr. Longman's Opinion of Mrs. Jervis's Management. and he told him there was no comparison between her accounts and Mrs. Jewkes's, at the Lincolnshire estate. He said so many fine things, it seems, of Mrs. Jervis, that my master sent for her in Mr. Longman's presence, and said Pamela might come along with her ; I suppose to mortify me, that I must go, while she was to stay : but as, when I go away, 1 am not to go with her, nor was she to go with me ; so it did not matter much ; only it would have been creditable to such a poor girl that the housekeeper would bear me company, if I went. Said he to her, " Well, Mrs. Jervis, Longman says you have made up your accounts with him, with your usual fidelity and exactness. I had a good mind to make you an offer of continuing with me ; if you can be a little-sorry for your hasty words, which, indeed, were not so respectful as I have deserved at your hands." She seemed at a sad loss what to say, because Mr. Longman was there, and she could not speak of the occasion of those words, which was me. . " Indeed," said Mr. Longman, " I must needs say, before your face, that since I have known my master's family, I have never found such good management in it, nor so much love and harmony. I wish the Lincoln- shire estate was as well served !" " No more of that," said my master r u but Mrs. Jervis may stay, if she will : and here, Mrs. Jervis, pray accept of this, which, at the close of every year's accounts, I will present you with, besides your salary, so long as I find your care so useful and agree- . able." He gave her five guineas. She made him a low curtsey, and thanking him, looked t%tne, as if she would have spoken to me. He took her meaning, I believe ; for he said, " Indeed, I love to encou- rage merit and obligingness, Longman : but I can never be equally kind to those who don't deserve it at my hands, as to those who do ;" and, then he looked full at me. " Longman," continued he, "I said that the girl might come in with Mrs. Jervis, because they love to be always together. For Mrs. Jervis is very good to her, and lovi?s her as well as if she was her daughter. But else " Mr. Longman, interrupting him, said, " Good to Mrs. Pamela ! Ay, Sir, and so she is to be sure ! But every body must be good to her; for " He was going on, but my master said, "No more, no more, Mr. Longman. I see old men are taken with pretty yung girls, as well as other folks ; and fair looks hide many a fault, where the person has the art to behave ob- ligingly." " Why, and please your honour," said Mr. Longman ; '" every body " and was going on, I believe, to say something more in my praise ; but he interrupted him, and said, " Not a word more of this Pamela; I .can't let her stay, I'll assure you : not only for her own freedom of speech, PAMELA. 53 Mrs. Longman's high Opinion of I'amela. but her letter-writing of alJ the secrets of my family." " Ay," said the good old man : " I'm sorry for that too ! But, Sir " " No more, I say," said my master ; " for my reputation's so well known" (mighty fine ! thought I) " that I eare not what any body writes or says of me ; but to tell you the truth (not that it need go any further) I think of changing my condition soon ; and, you know, young ladies of birth and fortune will choose their own servants, and that's my chief reason why Pamela can't stay. As for the rest," said he, " the girl is a good sort of body, take her altogether ; though 1 must say a little pert, since my mother's death, in her answers, and gives me two words for one, which I can't bear; nor is there reason I should, you know, Longman." " No, to be sure, Sir," said he ; " but 'tis strange she should be so mild and meek to every one of us in the house, and forget herself so where she should shew most re- spect !" " Very true, Mr. Longman," said he ; " but so it is, I'll assure you ; and it was from her pertness that Mrs. Jervis and I had the words: and I should mind it the less, but that the girl (there she stands, I say it to her face) has wit and sense above her years, and knows better." I was in great pain to say something, but yet I knew not what, before Mr. Longman ; and Mrs. Jervis looked at me, and walked to the window to hide her concern for me. At last, I said, " It is for you, Sir, to say what you please ; and for me only to say, Bless your honour !" Poor Mr. Longman faltered in his speech, and was ready to cry. Said my insulting master to me, " Why, pr'ythee, Pamela, now shew thyself as thou art, before Longman. Can'st not give him a specimen of that pert- ness which thou hast exercised upon me sometimes ?" Did he not, my dear father and mother, deserve all the truth to be told ? Yet I over- came myself so far as to say, " Your honour may play upon a poor girl, that you know can answer you, but dare not." " Why, pr'ythee now, insinuator," said he, " say the worst you can be- fore Longman and Mrs. Jervis. I challenge the utmost of thy imperti- nence ; and, as you are going away, anil have the love of every body, I would be a little justified to my family, that you have no reason to com- plain of hardships from me, as I have of pert saucy answers from you, be- tides exposing me by your letters." " Surely, Sir," said I, " I am of no consequence equal to this, in your honour's family, that such a great, gentleman as you should need to justify yourself about me. I am glad Mrs. Jervis stays with your honour; and I- know I have not deserved to stay ; and, more than that, 1 don't desire to stay." " Ads-bobbers," said Mr. Longman, and ran to me, " don't say so, don't say so, dear Mrs. Pamela ! We all love you dearly ; and pray down on your knees, and ask his honour pardon, and we will all become pleaders in a f 3 54 PAMELA. iatipnce of Pamela undor her Master's harsh Treatment. body, and I, and Mrs. Jervis too, at the head of it, to beg his honour's pardon, and to continue you, at least, till his honour marries." " No, Mr. Longman," said I, " I cannot ask; nor will 1 stay, if I might. All I desire is, to return to my poor father and mother ; though I love you all, I won't stay." " O well-a-day, well-a-day !" said the good old man, " I did not expect this : When I had got matters thus far, and had made all up for Mrs. Jervis, I was in hopes to have got a double holiday of joy for all the family in your pardon too." " Well," said my master, " this is a little specimen of what I told you, Longman. You see there's a spirit you did not expect." Mrs. Jervis told me, after, that she could stay no longer to hear me so hardly used ; and must have spoken, had she staid, what would never have been forgiven her ; so she went out. I looked after her, to go too ; but my master said, " dome, Pamela, give another specimen, I desire you, to Longman : I am sure you must, if you will but speak." " Well, Sir," said I, " since it seems your greatness wants to be justified by my lowness, and 1 have no desire you should suffer in the sight of your family, I will. say, on my bended knees" (and so I kneeled downl " that I have been a very ungrateful creature to the bi'st of masters ; I have been very perverse and sauey ; and have deserved nothing at your hands, but to be turned out of your family with shame and disgrace. I therefore have nothing to say for myself, but that 1 am not worthy to stay, and so cannot wish to stay, and will not stay : so God Almighty bless you and you, Mr. Longman and good Mrs. Jervis and every living soul of the family I and I will pray for you as long as I live." And so I rose up, and was forced to lean upon my master's elbow-chair, or I should have sunk down. The poor old man wept more than I, and said, " Ads-bobbers, was ever the like heard ! 'tis too much, too much, I can't bear it. As I hope to live, 1 am quite melted. Dear Sir, forgive her : the poor thing prays for you: she prays for us all: she owns bet fault; yet won't be forgiven ! I profess I know not what to make of it." My master himself, hardened wretch as he was, seemed a little moved, and took his handkerchief out of his pocket, and walked to the window. " What sort of a day is it ?" said he. And then getting a little more hard- heartedness, he said, " Well, you may be gone from my presence, thou strange medley of inconsistence ! but you shan't stay after your time in the house." " Nay, pray, Sir, pray, Sir," said the good old man, " relent a little. Adsheartlikins, you young gentlemen are made of iron and steel, I think : I'm sure," said he, " n,y heart's turned into butter, and is run- ning away at my eyes. I never felt the like before." Said my master, with an imperious tone, " Get out of my presence, hussy; I can't bear you in my .sight." " Sir," said I, " I'm going as fast as I can." PAMELA. 55 Pamela's Acquirements. But, indeed, my dear father and mother, my head was so giddy, and my limbs trembled so, that I was forced to go holding by the wainscot all the way with both my hands, and thought I should not have got to the, door: but when I did, as I hoped this would be my last interview with this ter- rible hard-hearted master, I turned about, and made a low curtsey, and said, " God bless you, Sir! God bless you, Mr. Longman!" and I went into the lobby leading to the great hall, and dropt into the first chair ; for I could get no farther a good while. I leave all these things to your reflection, my dear parents ; but I can write no more. My poor heart's almost broken. Indeed it is. Oh, when shall I get away ! May God send me, in safety, once more, to my father's peaceful cot !'and there the worst that can happen will be joy in perfec- tion to what I now bear. O pity your distressed daughter* LETTER XXIX. MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I MUST wrke, though I shall come so soon : for now I have hardly any thing else to do. I hava finished all that lay upon me, and only wait the good time of setting out. Mrs. Jervis said, I must be low in pocket for what I had laid out ; and so would have presented me with two guineas of her five ; but I could not take them of her, because, poor gentlewoman, she pays old debts for her children that were extravagant, and wants them herself. This was very good in her. I am sorry I shall have but little to bring with me ; but I know you won't, you are so good! and I will work the harder when I come home", if I can get a little plain work or any thing to do. But all your neighbour- hood is so poor, that I fear I shall want work, except may be Dame Mum- for'l help me to something from any good family site is acquainted with ! Here what a v sad thing it is ! I have been brought up wrong, as mat- ters stand. For, you know, my good lady now in heaven loved singing and dancing ; "and, as she would have it I had a voice, she made me Jearn both \ and often and often has she made me sing her an innocent song, and a good psalm too, and dance before her. And I must learn to flower and draw too, and to work fine-work with my needle ; why all this too I have got pretty tolerably at my finger's end, as they say ; and slv used to praise me, and was a pood judge of such matters. Well now, what is all this to the purpose, as things have turned out? Why, no more nor less, than that I am like the grasshopper in the.fable, which I have read of in my lady's book, as follows : " As the ants were airing their provisions one winter, a hungry grass- hopper (suppose it was poor mej begged charity of them. They told him, f 4 56 PAMELA. Pamela's good Resolutions for her future Life. he should have wrought in summer, if he would not want in winter. " Well," says the grasshopper, " but I was not idle, for I sung the whole season." " Then," said they, "you'll e'en do well to make a merry year of it, and dance in winter to the tune you sung in summer." I shall make a fine figure with my singing and dancing when I come home ! I shall be unfit even for a May-day holiday; for these minuets, rigadoons, and French dances, that I have been practising, will make me but ill company for my milk-maid companions that are to be. I had better, as things are, have learned to wash, scour, brew, bake, and such like. But I hope, if 1 can't get work, and can meet with a place, to* learn these soon, if any body will have the goodness to bear with me, till I am able : for, notwithstanding what my master says, I hope I have a humble and tea-liable mind ; and, next to God's grace, that is all my comfort, for 1 shall think nothing too mean that is honest. It may be a little hard at first ; but woe to my proud heart, if I find it so on trial ! I will make it bend to its condition or break it. I have read of a good bishop that was to be burnt for his religion : he tried how he could bear it, by putting his fingers into the lighted candle : so 1, the other day, tried, when Rachel's back was turned, if I could not scour a pewter plate she had begun. 1 could do it by degrees; it only blistered my hand in two places. - All the matter is, if I could get plain work enough, I need not spoil my fingers ; but if I can't, I hope to make my hands as red as a blood-pud- ding, and as hard as a beechen trencher to accommodate them to my condition. I must break off; here's somebody comiiig. 'Tis only our Hannah, witli a message from Mrs. Jervis. But hold, here is somebody else. It is only Rachel. I am as much frighted as were the city mouse and country mouse, in the same book of failles, at every thing that stirs. I have a power of these things to entertain ycu with in winter evenings, when I come home. If I can but get work, with a little time for reading, I hope we shall be very happy, over our peat fires. What made me hint to you that I should bring but little with me, is this : You must know, I did not intend to do, as I have this afternoon ; that is, 1 took all my clothes and linen, and divided them into three parcels, as I bad before told Mrs. Jervis I intended to do ; and said, worse for me ; for that he will never trouble himself about me as long as he lives. Well, so I get out of the house, I care not ; only I should have been glad I could, with innocence, have made you, my dear parents, happy. *3 o 66 PAMELA. Pamela's Master seuds bcr a Present. .; .-,*:: I . I cannot imagine the reason of it, but John, who I thought was gone with my last, is but now going ; 'and he sends to know if I have anything else to carry. So I break off, to send you this with the former. I am now preparing for my journey, and about taking leave of my good fellow-servants : and if I have not time to write, I must tell you the rest, when I am so happy as to be with you. One word more : I slip in a paper of verses, on my going Sad poor stuff: but as they come from me, you'll not dislike them, may be. I shewed them to Mrs. Jervis and she liked them, and took a copy ; and made me sing them to her, and in the green-room too ; but I looked into the closet first. I will only add, that I am your dutiful daughter. Let me just say, that he has this moment sent me five guineas, by Mrs. Jervis, as a present for my pocket ; so I shall be very rich ; for as she brought them, I thought I might take them. He says he won't see me : and I may go when I will in the morning ; and Lincolnshire Robin shall drive me: but he is so angry, he orders that nobody shall go out at the door with me, not so much as into the coach-yard. Well ! I can't help it, not I ! But does not this expose himself, more than me ? But John waits, and I would have brought this and the other myself ; but he says he has put it up among other things, and so can take both as well as one. i' John is very good and very honest : I am under many obligations to bim. I'd give him a guinea, now I'm so rich, if I thought he'd take it. I hear nothing of my lady's clothes, and those my master gave me : for I told Mrs. Jervis I would not take them ; but I fancy, by a word or two that was dropped, they will be sent after me. Dear Sirs ! what a rich Pa- mela you'll have, if they should ! But as I can't wear them, if they do, I don't desire them ; and if I have them, will turn them into money, as I can have opportunity. Well, no more I'm in a fearful hurry. VERSES ON MY GOING AWAY. My fellow-servants dear, attend To these few lines, which I have penn'd: I'm sure they're from your honest friend, And wisher-well, poor Pamela. I, from a state of low degree, Was plae'd in this good family : Too high a fate for humble me, The helpless, hopeless, Pamela. Yet though my happy lot was so, Joyful, 1 homeward from it go, PAMELA. 67 Pamela's Verses on going away. No- less content, when poor and low, Than here you find your Pamela. For what indeed is happiness, But conscious innocence and peace ? And that's a treasure I possess ; Thank Heav'n that gave it Pamela. My future lot I cannot know : But this I'm sure, where'er I go, Whate'er I am, whate'er I do, I'll be the grateful Pamela. No sad regrets my heart annoy, J['ll pray for all your peace and joy, From master high, to scullion boy, For all your loves to Pamela. One thing or two I've more to say ; God's holy will, be sure, obey ; And for our master always pray, As ever shall poor Pamela. For, oh ! we pity should the great, Instead of envying their estate ; Temptations always on 'em wait, Exempt from which are such as we. - Their riches, gay deceitful snares, Enlarge their fears, increase their cares ; Their servants' joy surpasses theirs ; At least, so judges Pamela. Your parents and relations love : Let them your duty ever prove ; And you'll be blest by Heaven above, As will, I hope, poor Pamela. For if asbam'd I e'er could be * Of my dear parents' low degree, What lot had been too mean for me, Unblessed, unvirtuous Pamela. Thrice happy may you ever be Each one in his and her degree ; And, Sirs, whene'er you think of me, Pray for content to Pamela 68 PAMELA. > ' * * , Pamela's Master keeps back her Letters. Pray for her wish'tl content and peace ; And rest assur'd she'll never cease To pray for all your joy's increase, While life is lent to Pamela. On God all future good depends ; Serve him. And so my sonnet ends, With thank ye, thank ye, honest friends, For all your loves to Pamela. Here it is necessary the reader should know that the fair Pamela's trials were not yet over - y but the worst were to come, at a time she thought them at an end, and that she was returning to her father! for when her master found her virtue was not to be subdued, and he had in vain tried to conquer his passion for her, being a gentleman of pleasure and intrigue, he had ordered his Lincolnshire coachman to bring his travelling chariot from thence, not caring to trust his Bedfordshire coachman, who, with the rest of the servants, so greatly loved and honoured the fair damsel ; and having given him instructions accordingly, and prohibited the other ser- vants, on pretence of resenting Pamela's behaviour, from accompanying her any part of the road, he drove her five miles on the way to her fathers ; and then turning off, crossed the country, and carried her onwards towards his Lincolnshire estate. It is also to be observed, that the messenger of the letters to her father, who so often pretended business that way, was an implement in his mas- ter's hands, and employed by him for that purpose ; and always gave her letters first to him, and his master used to* open and read them, and then send them on ; by which means, as he hints to her (as she observes in one of her letters, page 52) he was no stranger to what she wrote. Thus every way was the poor virgin beset ; and the whole will shew the base arts of designing men, to gain their wicked ends ; and how much it behoves the fair sex to stand upon their guard against artful contrivances, especially when riches and power conspire against innocence and a low estate. A few words more wiil be necessary to make the sequel better undt'r- stood. The intriguing gentleman thought fit, however, to keep back from her father her three last letters ; in which she mentions his concealing himself to hear her partitioning out her clothes, his last effort to induce her to stay a fortnight, his pretended proposal of the chaplain, and her hopes of speedily seeing them, as also her verse? ; and to send himself a letter to her father, which was as follows : " GOODMAN ANnUEWS, " You will wonder to receive a letter from me. But I think I am obliged to let you know, that I have discovered the strange correspondence PAMELA. 69 .** . Pamela's Master's Letter to her Father. carried on between you and your daughter, so injurious to my honour and reputation, and which, I think, you should not have encouraged, till you knew there were sufficient grounds for those aspersions which she so plen- tifully casts upon me. Something possibly there might be in what she has written from time to time ; but, believe me, with all her pretended sim- plicity and innocence, I never know so much romantic invention as she is mistress of. In short, the girl's head's turned by romances, and such idle stuff, to which she has given herself up, ever since her kind lady's death. And she assumes airs, as if she was a mirror of perfection, and every body had a design upon her. " Don't mistake me, however ; I believe her very honest, and very vir- tuous ; but I have found out, also, that she is carrying ona sort of cor- respondence, or love affair, with a young clejrgyman that I hope in time to provide for ; but who, at present, is destitute of any subsistence but my favour : and what would be the consequence, can you think, of two young folks, who have nothing in the world to trust to of their own, to come to- gether, with a family multiplying upon them, before they have bread to eat? " For my part, I have too much kindness to them both, not to endea- vour to prevent it, if I can ; and for this reason I have sent her out of his way for a little while, till I can bring them both to better consideration ; and I would not, therefore, have you be surprised you don't see your daughter so socai as you might possibly expect. *' Yet I do assure you, upon my honour, that she shall be safe and invio- late ; and I hope you don't doubt me, notwithstanding any airs she may have given herself, upon my jocular pleasantry to her, and perhaps a little innocent romping with her, -so usual with young folks of the two sexes, when they have been long acquainted, and grown up together ; for pride is not my talent. " As she is a mighty letter-writer, I hope she has had the duty to ap- prise you of her intrigue with the young clergyman ; and I know not whe. ther it meets with your countenance : but now she is absent for a little while (for I know he would have followed her to your village, if she had gone home ; and there perhaps they would have ruined one another by marrying) I doubt not I shall bring him to see his interest, and that he engages not before he knows how to provide for a wife ; and when that can be done, let them come together, if they please, for me. " I expect not to be answered on this head, but by your good opinion, and the confidence you may repose in my honour ; being your hearty friend to serve you. " P. S. I find my man John has been the manager of the correspond- ence, in which such liberties have been taken with me. I shall soon, in 63 PAMELA. Pamela's Father comes to her Master. manner that becomes me, let the saucy fellow know how much I resent his part of the affair. It is a hard thing, that a man of my character in the world should be used thus freely by his own servants." It is easy to guess at the poor old man's concern upon reading this letter, from a gentleman of so much consideration. He knew not what course to take, and had no manner of doubt of his poor daughter's inno- cence, and that foul play was designed her. Yet he sometimes hoped the best, and was ready to believe the surmised correspondence between the clergyman and her, having not received the letters she wrote, which would have cleared up that affair. But, after all, he resolved, as well to quiet his own as her mother's uneasiness, to undertake a journey to the squire's ; and leaving his poor wife to excuse him to the farmer who employed him, he set out that very evening, late as it was ; and travelling all night, found himself, soon after day-light, at the gate of the gentleman, before the family was up : and there he |^t down to rest himself till he should see somebody stirring. The grooms were the first he saw, coming out to water their horses; and he asked, in so distressful a manner, what was become of Pamela, that th ; thought him crazy ; and said, " Why, what have you to do with Pamela, old fellow ? Get out of the horses' way."" Where is your master?" said the poor man : " pray, gentlemen, dpn't be angry : my heart's almost broken." " He never gives any thing at the door, I assure you," says one of the grooms; " so you lose your labour." " I am not a beggarye/," saidthepoor old man. " I want nothing of him, but my Pamela: Omychild! my child!" " I'll be hang'd," says one of them, " if this is not Mrs. Pamela's fa- ther." Indeed, indeed," said he, wringing his hands, " I am ;" and weeping, " Where is my child? where is my Pamela?" "Why, father," said one of them, " we beg your pardon ; but she is gone home to you : how long have you been come from home ?" " But last night," said he ; " 1 have travelled all night Is the srjuire at home, or is he not?" " Yes, but he is not stirring though," said the groom, " as yet." " Thank God for that '." said he. " Then I hope I may be permitted to speak to him anon." They asked him to go in, and he stepped into the stable and sat down on the stairs there, wiping his eyes, and sighing so sadly, that it grieved the servants to hear him. The family was soon raised, with a report of Pamela's father coming to enquire after his daughter ; and the maids would fain have had him go into the kitchen. But Mrs. Jervis, having been told of his coming, arose, and hastened down to the parlour; and took him in with her, and there heard all his sad story, and read the letter. She wept bitterly, but yet fciuleavoured before him to hide her concern ; and said, " Well, Good- PAMELA. 71 Henrges her Master to let him know where Pamela is sent. man Andrews, I cannot help weeping afr your grief : but I hope there is no occasion. Let nobody see this letter, whatever you do. I dare say your daughter is safe." " Well, but," said he, " I see, you, Madam, know nothingabout her : if all was right, so good a gentlewoman as you are, would not have been a stranger to this. To be sure you thought she was with me !" Said she, " My master does not always inform his servants of his pro- ceedings ; but you need not doubt his honour. You have his hand for it : and you may see he can have no design upon her, because he is not from hence, and does not talk of goi ng hence." " Oh , that is all I have to hope for," said he ; " that is all, indeed ! But," said he and was going on, when the report of his coming had reached the squire, who came down in his morning-gown and slippers, into the parlour, where he and Mrs. Jer- vis were talking. " What's the matter, Goodman Andrews?" said he ; "what's the mat- ter?" "O my child!" said the good old man: "give me my child! I beseech you, Sir."" Why, I thought," says the squire, " that I had sa- tisfied you about her: sure you have not the letter I sent you, written with my own hand." "Yes, yes, but I have, Sir," said he ; " and that brought me hither ; and I have walked all night." " Poor man," re- turned he, with great seeming compassion, " I am sorry for it, truly ! Why, your daughter has made a strange racket in my family ; and if I thought it would have disturbed you so much, I would have e'en let her gone home ; but what I did was to serve her, and you too. She is very safe, I do assure you, Goodman Andrews ; and you may take my honour for it, I would not injure her for the world. Do you think I would, Mrs. Jervis?" "No, I hope not, Sir," said she. " Hope not !" said the poor man ; " so did I : but pray, Sir, give me my child ; that's all I desire ; and I'll take care no clergyman shall come near her." " Why, London is a great way off," said the squire, " and I can't send for her back presently." "What then," said he, " have you sent my poor Pamela to London ?" " I would not have it said so," replied the squire ; " but I assure you, upon my honour, she is quite safe and satisfied, and will quickly inform you of it by letter. She rs in a repu- table family, no less than a bishop's, and is to wait on his lady, till I get the matter over that I mentioned to you." " Oh, how shall I know this ?" replied he. "What !" said the squire, pretending anger, " am I to be doubted ? Do you believe I can have any view upon your daughter? And if 1 hat', do you think I would take such methods as these to effect it? Why, surely, man, thou forgettest whom thou talkest to ! " O Sir," said he, " I beg your pardon ; but con- sider, my dear child is in the case : let me know but what bishop, and g 4 72 PAMELA. msfB %- m i" rtw , . ', :":' Pamela's Master assures her Father of her Safety where ; and 1 will travel to London on foot, to see my daughter, and then shall be satisfied." *' Why, Goodman Andrews, I think thou hast read romances as well as thy daughter ; thy head's turned with them. May I not have my word taken ? JJo you think I would offer any thing dishonourable to your daughter ? Is there any thing looks like it ? Pr'ythee, man, recollect a little who I am ; and if I am not to be believed, what signifies talking?" " Why, Sir," said he, " pray forgive me : but there is no harm to say what bishop's, or whereabouts !" " What, and so you'd go troubling his lordship with your impertinent fears and stories ? Will you be satisfied, if you have a letter from her within a week, it may be less, if she be not negligent, to assure you all is well with her."" Why, that," said the poor man, " will be some comfort." " Well, then," said the gentleman, "I can't answer for her negligence, if she don't write ; and if she should send a letter to you, Mrs. Jervis (for I desire not to see it ; I have had trouble enough about her already) be sure you send it by a man and horse the moment you receive it." "To be sure I will," answered she. " Thank your honour," said the good man: " and then I must wait with as much patieuce as 1 can for a week, which will be a year to me." " I tell you," said the gentleman, " it must be her own fault if she don't write : for 'tis what I insisted upon for my own reputation : and I shan't stir from this house, I assure you, till she is heard from, and that to satisfaction." " God bless your honour," said the poor man, " as you say and mean truth." " Amen, Amen, Goodman Andrews," said he; "you see I am not afraid to say Amen. So, Mrs. Jervis, make the good man as welcome as you can ; and let me have no uproar about the matter." He then, whispering her, bid her give him a couple of guineas to bear his charges home ; telling him he should be welcome to stay there till the letter came, if he would ; and be a witness that he intended ho- nourably. The poor old man staid and dined with Mrs. Jervis, with some tolera- ble ease of mind, in hopes to hear from bis beloved daughter in a few days : and then accepting the present, returned for his own house, and resolved to be as patient as possible. Mean time Mrs. Jervis and all the family were in the utmost grief for the trick put upon poor Pamela; and she and the steward represented it to their master in as moving terms as they durst ; but were forced to rest satisfied with his general assurances of intending her no harm ; which, however, Mrs. Jervis littie believed, from the pretence he had made in his letter, of the correspondence between Pamela and the young parson j which she knew to be all mere invention, though she durst not say so. PAMELA. 73 Pamela's Letter to Mrs. Jervis. But the week after, they were made a little more easy by the following letter, brought by an unknown hand, and left for Mrs. Jervis ; which, how procured will be shewn in the sequel : " DEAR MRS. JERVIS, " I have been vilely tricked, and, instead of being driven by Robin to my dear father's, I am carried off, to where I have no liberty to tell. However, I am at'present not used hardly, in the main ; and I write to beg of you to let my dear father and mother (whose hearts must be well nigh broken) know that I am well, and that I am, and, by the grace of God, ever will be, their honest as well as dutiful daughter, and your ~ obliged friend, Pamela Andrews. " I must neither send date nor place : but have most solemn assurances of honourable usage. This is the only time my low estate has been trouble- some to me, since it has subjected me to the frights I hare undergone. Love to your good self, and all my dear fellow -servants. Adieu ! Adieu ! but pray for poor " Pamela." This, though it quieted not entirely their apprehensions, was shewn to the whole family, and to the gentleman himself, who pretended not to know how it came. Mrs. Jervis sent it away to the good old folks, who at first suspected it was forged, and not their daughter's hand ; but, finding the contrary, they were a little easier to hear she was alive and honest :| and having enquired of all their acquaintance what could be done, and no one being able Jo put them in a way how to proceed, on so extraordinary an occasion, against so rich and resolute a gentleman; and being afraid to make matters worse (though they saw plainly that she was in no bishop's family, and so mistrusted all the rest of his story) they applied themselves to prayers for their poor daughter, and for a happy issue to an affair that almost distracted them. We shall now leave the honest old pair, praying for their dear Pamela, and return to the account she herself gives of all this ; having written it journal-wise, to amuse and employ her time, in hopes some opportunity might offer to send it to her friends, and, as was her constant view, that she might afterwards thankfully look back upon the dangers she had escaped, when they should be happily over-blown, as in time she hoped they would be ; and that then she might examine, and either approve or repent of her conduct in them. V LETTER XXXII. O MY DEAREST FATHER AND MOTHER, LET me write and bewail my miserable hard fate, though I have no hope that what I write can be conveyed to you, I have now nothing to 74 PAMELA. Account of Pamela's leaving her Master. do but write, and weep, and pray ! But yet, what can 1 hope for, when I seem to be devoted as a victim to the "will of a wicked violater of all the laws of God and man ? ** But, gracious heaven, forgive my rashness and despondency ! Oh, let me not sin against thee ; for thou best knovvest what is fittest for thy poor handmaid '. And as thou sufferest not thy poor creatures to be tempted above what they can bear, I will resign my- self to thy good pleasure !" Still, I hope, desperate as my condition seems, that, as these trials are not of my own seeking, nor the effects of my presumption and vanity, I shall be enabled to overcome them, and, in God's own good time, be delivered from them. Thus do I pray imperfectly, as I am forced by my distracting fears and apprehensions : Oh, join with me, my dear parents ! But, alas ! how can you know, how can I reveal to you, the dreadful situation of your poor daughter ! The unhappy Pamela may be undone (which God forbid, and sooner deprive me of life !) before you can know her hard lot ! Oh, the unparalleled wickedness, stratagems, and devices of those who call themselves gentlemen, yet pervert the designs of Providence in giving them ample means to do good, to their own everlasting perdition, and the ruin of poor oppressed innocents ! Now 1 will tell you what has befallen me ; but yet, how shall you re- ceive it ? Here is no honest John to carry my letters to you ! And be- sides, I am watched in all my steps, and no doubt shall be, till my hard fate may ripen hi* wicked projects for my ruin. I will every day, how- ever, write my sad state; and some way, perhaps, may be opened to send the .melancholy scribble to you. But, alas ! when you know it, what will it do but aggravate your troubles ? For, what can the abject poor do against the mighty rich, when they are determined to oppress ? Well, but I must proceed to write what I had hoped to tell you in a few hours, when I believed I should receive your grateful blessings, on my return to you from so many hardships. I will begin with my account from the last letter I wrote you, in which I inclosed my poor stuff of verses ; and continue it as I have opportunity, though, as I said, I know not how it can reach you. The long-hoped-for Thursday morning came, when I was to set out. I had taken my leave ol my fellow-servants over night : a mournful leave it was to us all ; for men as well as women servants wept much to part with me ; and for my part, I was overwhelmed with tears, at the affect- ing instances of their esteem. They all would have made me little pre- sents, as tokens of their love ; but I would not take any thing from the lower servants. But Mr. Longman would have me accept of several yards of Holland, a silver snuff-box, and a gold ring, which he desired me to keep for his sake; he wept over me, but said " I'm sure so good PAMELA. 75 Grief of her Fellow-servants at her Departure. a maiden God will bless ; and though you return to your poor father again, and his low estate, yet Providence will find you out : remember I tell you so ; and one day, though I mayn't live to see it, you will be re- warded." I said "O dear Mr. Longman you make me too rich, and too mody; yet I must be a beggar before my time ; for I shall want often to be scribbling" (little thinking it would be my only employment so soon) " and I will beg you, Sir, to favour me with some paper ; and as soon as I get home, I will write you a letter, to thank you all for your kindness to me ; and a letter for good Mrs. Jervis too. This was lucky ; for I should have had none else, but at the pleasure of my rough-natur'd governess, as I may call her : but now I can write to ease my mind, though I can't send it to you ; and write what I please, for she knows not how well I am provided ; for good Mr. Longman gave me above forty sheets of paper, a dozen of pens, and a little phial of ink, which last I wrapped in paper, and put in my pocket, with some wax and wafers. " O dear Sir," said I, "you have set me up ; how shall I requite you ?" He said " By a kiss, my fair girl." And I gave it very willingly, for he is a good old man. Rachel and Hannah cried sadly, when I took my leave ; Jane, who sometimes used to be a little crossish, and Cicely too, wept sadly, and said they would pray for me ; but poor Jane, I doubt, will forget that, for she seldom says her prayers for herself: more's the pity ! Arthur the gardener, Robin the coachman, and little Lincolnshire Robin too, who was to carry me, were very civil : both had tears in their eyes ; which I thought then very good-natured in Lincolnshire Robin, because he knew but little of me. But since I find he might be well concerned ; for he had then his instructions, and knew how he was to be a means to entrap me. Our other three footmen, Harry, Isaac, and Benjamin, and the groom; and helpers, were very much affected likewise ; and the poor little scul- lion boy, Tommy, was oppressed with grief. They had got altogether over night, expecting to be differently em- ployed in the morning; they all begged to shake hands with me. I kissed the maidens, and prayed to God to bless them all ; and thanked them for all their love and kindnesses to me : I was forced to leave them sooner than I would, because I couid not stand it : indeed I could not. Harry (1 could not have thought it, for he is a little wildish, they say) cried considerably. Poor honest John was not then come back from you. But as for the butler, Mr. Jonathan, he could not stay in company. 76 PAMELA. Pamela's Departure from her Master's. I thought to have told you a deal about this, but I "have worse things -to employ my thoughts. Mrs. Jervis, good Mrs. Jervis, cried all night long, and I comforted her as well as I could; she made me promise, that if my master went to London, to attend parliament, or t6 Lincolnshire, I would come and stay a week with her .- and she would have given me money, but I would not take it. Well, next morning came, and I wondered I saw nothing of honest John, for I waited to take leave of him, and thank him for all his civili- ties to me and you : but I suppose he was sent farther by my master, and could not return ; so I desired to be remembered to him. When Mrs. Jervis told me, with a sad heart, the chariot was ready with four horses to it, I was just upon sinking into the ground, though I wanted to be with you. My master was above stairs, and never asked to see me. 1 was glad of it in the main ; but he knew, falseheart as he is ! that I was not to be out of his reach. Oh, preserve me, Heaven, from his power, and from his wickedness '. The servants were not suffered to go with me one step, as I writ to you before ; for he stood at the window to see me go. And in the pas- sage to the gate, out of his sight, there they stood all of them, in two rows ; and could say nothing on both sides but " God bless you !" and " God bless you !" But Harry carried my own bundle, my third bundle, as I used to call it, to the coach, and some plum-cake, and diet-bread, made for me over night, some sweet-meats, and six bottles of Canary wine, which Mrs. Jervis would make me take in a basket, to cheer our hearts when we got together, she said. I kissed all the maids again ; but Mr. Jonathan, and 'Mr. Longman were not there ; 1 tripped down the steps to the chariot, Mrs. Jervis crying most sadly. I looked up when I got to the. chariot, and saw my master at the win- dow, in his gown ; I curtseyed three times to him very low, and prayed for him with my hands lifted up ; for I could not speak ; indeed I was notable; and he bowed his head to me, which made me very glad he would take such notice of me ; and in I stept. 1 was ready to burst with grief; and could only, till Robiu began to drive, wave my white handker- chief to them, wet with my tears ; at last, away we drove, Jehu-like, as they say, out of the court-yard. And I too soon found I had cause for greater and deeper grief. "Well," said 1 to myself, "at this rate 1 shall soon be with my dear father and mother ;" till I had got, as I supposed half way, I thought of the good friends I had left : and when on stopping to bait the horses PAMELA. 77 She arrives at a Farm-house. Robin told me I was near half-way, I thought it was high time to wipe my eyes, and think to whom 1 was going. So I began to ponder what a meeting I should have with you ; how glau you'd be to see me come safe and innocent to you after all my dangers j so I began to comfort myself, and to banish the pther gloomy sight from my mind, though it returned now and then, for I should be ungrateful not to love them for their love. I believe l set out about eight o'clock in the morning ; I wondered, when it was about two, as I saw by a church-dial in a little village, as we passed through, that I was still more and more out of my knowledge. "Heyday!" thought I, " to drive this strange pace, and be so long a going a little more than twenty miles, is very odd ! But, to be sure," thought I, " Robin knows the way." At last he stopped and looked about him, as if he was at a loss for the road. I said, " Mr. Robert, sure you are out of the way '." " I am afraid 1 am," said he ; " but it can't be much ; I'll ask the first person I see." " Pray, do," said I : and he gave his horses a mouthful of hay ; and I gave hinr some cake, and two glasses of Canary wine. We stopped about half an hour in all. Then he drove on very fast again. I had so much to think of, of the dangers I now doubted, not I had es- caped, and of the loving friends I had left, as also of my best friends I was going to, and the many things I had to relate, that I. the less thought of the way, till I was startled out of my meditations by the sun begin- ning to set, and still the man driving on, and his horses sweating and foaming ; then I began to be alarmed all at once, and called to him ; lie said he had horrid ill-luck, for that he had come several miles out of the way, but was now right, and should get in before it was quite dark. My heart then began to misgive me a little, and I was very much fa- tigued ; for I had no sleep for several nights before, to signify ; at last I said, " Pray, Mr. Robert, there is a town before us, what do you call it ? If we are so much out of the way, we had better put up there, for the night comes on apace." May God protect me, thought I, I shall have new dangers, may-hap, to encounter with the man, who have escaped the master little thinking of the base contrivance of the latter. Says he, " I am just there : 'tis hut a mile on one side of the town before us." " Nay," said I, " I may be mistaken ; for it is a good while since I was this way : but I am sure the face of the country here is nothing like what I remember it." He pretended to be much out of humour with himself for mistaking the way, and at last stopped at a farm-house, about two miles beyond the village I had passed; it was then almost dark, and he alighted, and said " We must make shift here ; for I am quite out," More trials still! thought I What will beful me next ' 78 PAMELA. Pamela rests at the Farm-honse. f The farmer's wife, maid, and daughter, came out; the wife said " What brings you this way at this time of night, Mr. Robert ? And with a lady too ?" Then I began to be frightened out of my wits ; and, lay- ing middle and both ends together, I fell a crying, and said " God give me patience! I am undone for certain! Pray, mistress," said I, " do you know SquireJ5_T , of Bedfordshire ?" The wicked coachman would have prevented her answering me : but the simple daughter said " Know his worship! yes, surely; why, he is my father's landlord." " Well," said I, " then I am undone, undone for ever ! O wicked wretch ! what have I done to you," said I to the coach- man, " to serve me thus ? Vile tool of a wicked master !" " Faith," said the fellow, " I am sorry this task was put upon me : but I could not help it. But make the best of it now ; here are very civil, reputable folks ; and you'll be safe here, I'll assure you." " Let me get out," said 1, " and I'll walk back to the town we came through, late as it is : for I will not enter here." The farmer's wife said " You'll be very well used here, I'll assure you, young gentlewoman, and have better conveniences than any where in the village." " It matters not conveniences," said I, " I am betrayed and undone ! As you have a daughter of your own, pity me. Let me know, if your landlord, as you call him, be here V No, I'll assure you he is not," said she. And then came, the farmer, a good like sort of man, grave, and well behaved ; he spoke in such a way as made me a little pacified ; and, seeing no help for it, I went in : the wife immediately conducted me up stairs to the best apartment, and told me that was mine, as long as I staid ; and nobody should come near me, but when I called. I threw myself on the bed in the room, tired and frightened to death almost ; and gave way to the most excessive fit of grief I ever had. The daughter came up, and said, Mr. Robert had given her a letter to give me ; and there it was. I raised myself, and saw it was the hand and seal of the wicked wretch, my master, directed to me. This was a little better than to have him here ; though if he had, he must have been brought through the air: for I thought I was. The good woman (for I began to see things about a little reputable, and no guile appearing in them, but rather a face of grief for my grief) offered me a glass of some cordial water, which I accepted, for I was ready to sink ; I then sat up in a chair a little, though very faint. They brought me two candles, lighted a brush-wood fire ; and said, if I called I should be waited on instantly ; so left me to ruminate on my sad condi- tion, and to read my letter, which I was not able to do presently. After 1 had a little come to myself, I found it to contain these words : PAMELA.' 79 Letter delivered to Pamela at the Farm-house. '' ;.* - . - '',. " DEAR PAMELA, " The passiou I have for you, and your obstinacy, have constrained me to act by you in a manner that, I know, will occasion you great trouble and fatigue, both of mind and body. Yet, forgive me, my dear girl ; for, although I have taken these steps, I will, by all that's good and holy, use you honourably. Suffer not your fears to transport you to a beha- viour that will be disreputable to us both ; for the place where you'll receive this, is a farm that belongs to me ; and the people civil, honest, and obliging. " You will by this time be far on your way to the place I have allotted for your abode for a few weeks, till I have managed some affairs, that will make me shew myself to you in a much different light, than you may possibly apprehend from this rash action ; and to convince you that I mean no harm, I assure you, that the house you are going to shall be so much at your command, that even I myself will not approach it without leave from you. So make yourself easy ; be discreet and prudent ; and a happier turn shall reward these your troubles, than you may at present apprehend. " Meantime I pity the fatigue you will haye, if this come to your hand in the place I have directed : and will write to your father to satisfy him, that nothing but what is honourable shall be offered to you, by your pas- sionate admirer so (I must style myself) " " " Don't think hardly of poor Robin : you have so possessed all my ser- vants in your favour, that I find they had rather serve you than me ; and 'tis reluctantly the poor fellow undertook the task ; I was forced to sub- mit to assure him of my honourable intentions to you, which I am fully resolved to make good, if you compel me not to a contrary conduct." I but too well apprehended, that the letter was only to pacify me for the present; but as my danger was not so immediate as I had reason to dread, and he had promised to forbear coming to me, and to write to you, my dear parents, to quiet your concern, I was a little more easy thai before : I made a shift to eat a little bit of boiled chicken, and drank a glass of my sack, and made each of them do so too. But after I had so done, I was again a little flustered : for in came the coachman with the look of a hangman, I thought, and maclam'd me up strangely ; telling me, he would beg me to get ready to pursue my jour- ney by five in the morning, or else he should be late in. I was quite grieved at this ; for I began not to dislike my company, considering how things stood ; and was in hopes to get a party among' them, and so to put myself into any worthy protection in the neighbourhood, rather than jo forward 80 PAMELA. Pamela's Master's I t'ttei to Farmer Norton. u i i - - When he withdrew, I began to tamper with the farmer and his wife. But, alas ! they had had a letter delivered to them at tire same time I had : so securely had Lucifer put it into his head to do his work : they only shook their heads, and seemed to pity me ; so I was forced to give over that hope. However the good farmer shewed me his letter ; which I copied as fol- lows : for it discovers the deep arts of this wicked master ; and how re- solved he seems to be on my ruin, by the pains he took to deprive me of all hopes of freeing mvself from his power. " FARMERJSflJRJQil,^ ^ ^ "JL~ SENI) lo your house, ybr one night only, a young gentlewoman, much against her will, who has deeply embarked in a love affair, which will be her ruin, as well as the person's to whom she wants to betroth herself. I have, to oblige her fatlter, ordered her to be carried to one of my houses, where she will be well used, to try if, by absence, and expos- tulation with both, they can be brought to know their own interest : I am sure you will use her kindly for my sake ; for excepting this matter, which she will not own, she does not want prudence and discretion. I will acknowledge any trouble you shall be at in this matter the first opportu- nity, and am your friend and servant." He had said, too cunningly forme, that I would not own this pretended love affair : so that he had provided them not to believe me, say what I would ; and as they were his tenants, who all love him (for he has some amiable qualities, so he had need !) I saw all my plot cut out, and was forced to say the less. I wept bitterly, for I found he was too hard for me, as well in his con- trivances as riches ; so I had recourse again to my only refuge, comforting myself, that God never fails to take the innocent heart into his protec- tion, and is alone able to baffle and confound the devices t of the mighty. The farmer was so prepossessed with the contents of his letter, that he began to praise his care and concern for me, and to advise me against entertaining addresses without my friends' advice and consent, and made me the subject of a lesson for his daughter's improvement. So I was glad to stop this discourse, as I was not likely to be believed. I sent to tell my driver, that I was so fatigued, I could not set out so soon the next morning. But he insisted upon it, and said, it would make my daj's journey the lighter; and I found he was a more faithful servant to his master, notwithstanding what he wrote of his reluctance, than I could have wished : so I saw, still more and more, that all was deep dissimula- tion, and contrivance worse and worse. I might have shewn them his letter to me, as a full confutation of his PAMELA. 81 Pamela meets Mra. Jewkei at the Inn. to them ; but I saw no probability of engaging them in my behalf: and so thought it signified little, as I was to go away so soon, to enter more particularly into the matter with them ; besides, I saw, they were not inclinable to let me stay longer, for fear of disobliging him : so I went to bed, but had very little rest : they would make their servant-maid bear me company in the chariot five miles early in the morning, and she was to walk back. I had contrived in my thoughts, when I was on my way in the chariot, onFriday morning, that when we came into some town to bait, as he must do for the horses' sake, I would, at the inn, apply myself to the mistress of the house, tell her the case, and refuse to go farther, having nobody but this wicked coachman to contend with. Well, I was very full of this project, and in great hopes ,to extricate myself this way. But the artful wretch had provided for even this last refuge of mine ; for when we came to put up at a large inn on the way, to partake of a dinner, and I was fully 'resolved to execute my project, who should be at the inn, but the wicked Mrs. Jewkes, expecting me ! And her sister-in-law was the mistress of it; and she had provided a little entertainment for me. And this I found, when I desired, as soon as I went in, to speak with the mistress of the house. She came to me, and I said " I am a poor unhappy young body, that want your advice and assistance ; you seem to be a good sort of gentlewoman, that would assist an oppressed innocent person." " Yes, madam," said she, " I hope you guess right : and f have the happiness to know something of the matter before you speak. Pray, call my sister Jewkes." Jewkes ! Jewkes ! thought I, I have heard of that name, I don't like it. Then the wicked creature appeared, whom I had never seen but once before ; I was terrified out of my wits. No stratagem, thought I, not one! for a poor innocent girl; but every thing to turn out against me ; that is hard indeed. So I began to pull in my horns, as they say ; for I saw I was now worse off than at the farmer's. The naughty woman came up to me with an air of confidence, and kissed me I " See sister," said she, " here's a charming creature ! Would she not tempt the best lord in the land to run away with her ?" Ohj frightful ! thought I ; here's' an avowal of the matter at once. I am now gone, that's certain ; and was quite silent and confused! Seeing no help for it (for she would not part with me out of her sight) I was forced to set out with her in the chariot : for she came thither on horseback, with a man-servant who rode by us the rest of the way, leading her horse. I now gave over all thoughts of redemption, and was in a desponding condition. Well, \ thought, here are strange pains taken to ruin & poet innocent, a 4 n 85 PAMELA. Pamela arrives at the Lincolnshire Residence. helpless, and worthless young body. This plot is laid too deep, and has been too long hatching, to be baffled, I fear. I put my trust in God, who I knew was able to do every thing for me, when all other possible means should fail : and in him I was resolved to confide. You may see what sort of woman this Mrs. Jewkes is, compared to good Mrs. Jervis, by this: every now and then she would be staring'in my face, in the chariot, -and squeezing my hand, saying " Why, you are very pretty, my silent dear '." And once she offered to kiss me. But I said " I don't like this sort of carriage, Mrs. Jewkes ; it is not like two persons of one sex." She fell a laughing very confidently, and saia " That's prettily said, I vow ! Then thou hadst rather be kissed by the other sex ! I-fackins, I commend thee for that." I was sadly teased with her impertinence and bold way; but no won- der ; she was an inn-keeper's housekeeper, before she came to my mas- ter ; and those sort of creatures don't want confidence, you know : and indeed she made nothing to talk boldly on twenty occasions ; and said, two or three times, when she saw the tears every now-and-then, as we rid, trickle down my cheeks, I was sorely hurt, truly, to have the hand- somest and finest young gentleman in five counties in love with me ! So I find I have got into the hands of a wicked procuress ; and if I was not safe With good Mrs. Jervis, and where every body loved me, what a dreadful prospect have I now before me in the hands of a woman that seems to delight in fifthiness ! What shall i do ! what shall I do ! Surely I shall never be equal to all these things. About eight at night we entered the courtyard of this handsome, large, old, and lonely mansion, that looks made for solitude and mischief, as I thought, by its appearance, with all its brown nodding horrors of lofty elms and pines about it. Here, said I to myself, I fear is to be the scene l of my ruin, unless God protect me, who is all-sufficient! 1 was very sick at entering it, partly from fatigue, and partly from de- jection of spirits : Mrs. Jewkes got me some mulled wine, and seemed mighty officious to welcome me hither. While she was absent, ordering tW wine, wicked Robin came in to me, and said, " I beg a thousand pardons for my part in this affair, since I see your grief and distress ; and I do assure you, I am sorry it fell to my task." '* Mighty well, Mr. Robert 1 ." said 1 ; " I never saw an execution but once ; and then the hangman asked the poor creature's pardon, wiped his mouth as you do, pleaded his duty, and then calmly tucked up the crimi- nal. But I am no criminal, as you all know ; if I could have thought it ray duty to obey a wicked master in his unlawful commands, I had saved jyou all the merit of this vile service." " J am sorry," said he, " you take it so ; but every body don't think PAMELA. 83 Mrs. Jewkes determines to follow her .Vlaster'i Orders. alike." " Well," said I, " you have done your part, Mr. Robert, towards- my ruin very faithfully; and will have cause to be sorry, may be, at the long run, when you shall see the mischief that comes of it. Your eyes were open ; you knew I was to be carried to my father's, and that I was barbarously tricked and betrayed. I can only, once more, thank you for your part of it. God forgive you !" He went away a little sad. " What have you said to Robin, Madam ?" said Mrs. Jewkes., who came in as he went out ; " the poor fellow's ready to cry." " I need not be afraid of your following his example, Mrs. Jewkes," said I ; " I have been telling him he has done his part to my ruin : and he now can't help it ! So his repentance does me no good : I wish it may him." " I'll assure you, Madam," said she, " I should be as ready to cry as he, if I should do you any harm." " It is not in his power to help it now," said I ; f but your part is to come : you may choose whether you'll con- tribute to my ruin or not." "Why, look ye, Madam," said she: "I have a great notion of doing my duty to my master, you may depend upon it, if I can do that, and serve you, I will ; but you must think, if your desire and his will clash, I shall do as he bids me, let it be what it will." " Pray Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " don't Madam me so : I am but a silly poor girl, set up by the gambol of Fortune, for a May-game ; and now ain to be something, and now nothing, just as Fortune thinks fit to sport with me. Let you and me talk upon a footing together : for I am a servant inferior to you, and so much the more, as I am turned out of place." " Ay, ay," says she; "I understand something of the matter : you have so great power over my master, that you may be soon mistress of us all ; and so I would oblige you if I could. I must and will call you Madam ; for 1 am instructed to shew you all respect, I'll assure you. " Who instructed you to do so?" said I. "Who I my master, to be sure," said she. " Why," said I, " how can that be ? You have not seen him lately. "*-" That's true," said she ; " but I have been expecting you here some time." (O the deep laid wickedness, thought I.) " And, besides, I have a letter of instructions by Robin ; but, may be, I should not have said so much." " If you would shew them to me," said I, " I should be able to judge how far I could or could not, expect favour with you, consistent with your duty to our master." " I beg your pardon, fair mistress, for that," said she ; "I am sufficiently instructed; and you may depend upon it, 1 will observe my orders ; and so far as they will let me, so far will I oblige you ; and there's an end of it." " W<11," ?aid I. " you will net, I hope, do an unlawful or wicked U - 84 PAMELA. Mrs. Jewkes's Strictness with Pamela. thing, for any master in the world." " Look ye," said she, " he is nay master ; and if he bids me do any thing I can do, I think I ought to do it : and let him, who has power to command me, look to the lawfulness of it."" Why," said I, " suppose he should bid you cut my throat, would you do it ?" " There's no danger of that," said she ; " but to be sure I would not ; for then I should be hanged, for that would be murder."' ** Well," said I, " and suppose he should resolve to ensnare a poor young creature^ and ruin her, would you assist him in that ? For to rob a person of her virtue is worse than cutting her throat." " Why, now," says she, " how strangely you talk ! Are not the two sexes made for one another? And is it not natural for a gentleman to love a pretty woman ? And suppose he can obtain his desires, is that so bad as cutting her throat ?" And then the wretch fell a laughing, and talked most impertinently, and shewed me that I had nothing to expect from her virtue or conscience ; and this gave me great mortification ; for I was in hopes of working upon her by degrees. So we ended our discourse here, and I bid her tell me where I must leep. " Why," said she, "sleep where you list, Madam ; I can tell you, I must sleep with you for the present." " For the present !" said I, and torture then wrung my heart ! " But is it in your instructions, that you must sleep with me ?" " Yes, indeed," said she. " I am sorry for it," said I. " Why," said she, " I am wholesome, and cleanly too, I'll assure you." " Yes," said I, " I don't doubt that ; but I love to sleep by my- self."" How so ?" said she ; " was not Mrs. Jervis your bed-fellow at t'other house ?" " Well," said I, quite sick of her and my condition, " you must do as you are instructed, I think. I can't help myself, and am a most misera- ble creature." She repeated her insufferable nonsense " Mighty mise- rable indeed, to be well beloved by one of the finest gentlemen in Eng- land 1" : AM NOW COME DOWN IN MT WRITING TO THIS PRESENT SATCRDAT, AND A DEAL I HAVE WRITTEN. My wicked bed-fellow has very punctual orders ; for she locks me and herself in, and ties the two keys (for there is a double door to the room) about ber wrist when she goes to bed. She talks of the bouse having been attempted to be broken open two or three times ; whether to frighten me, I cannot tell ; but it makes me fearful : though not so much as I should be, if I had not other and much greater fears. I slept but little last night. I got up and pretended to sit by the win- dow which leads into the spacious garden ; but was writing all the time, from break of day, t6 her getting up, and after, when she was absent. PAMELA. 85 - Mrs. Jewkes must see every Thing Pamela writes. At breakfast she presented the two maids to me, the cook and house- maid, poor awkward souls, that I can see no hopes from them, as they seem devoted to her and ignorance. Yet I am resolved, if possible, to find some way to escape, before this wicked master comes. s There are, besides, of servants, the coachman Robert, a groom, helper, and footman ; all but Robert (who is accessary to my ruin) strange crea- tures, that promise nothing; and all equally devoted to this woman. The gardener looks like a good honest man ; but he is kept at a distance, and seems reserved. I wondered J saw not Mr. Williams the clergyman, but would not ask after him, apprehending it might give her some jealousy ; but when I had beheld the rest, he was the only one I had hopes of; for I thought his cloth would set him above assisting in my ruin. But in the afternoon he came ; for it seems he has a little Latin school in the neighbouring village, which he attends ; and this brings him a little matter, additional to my master's favour, till something better falls, of which he has hopes. He is a sensible, sober, young gentleman ; and when I saw him, I con- firmed myself in my hopes of him ; for he seemed to take great notice of my distress and grief (for I could not hide it) though he appeared fearful pf Mrs. Jewkes, who watched all our motions and words. He has an apartment in the house ; but is mostly at a lodging in the town, for con- veniency of his little school, only on Saturday afternoons and Sundays ; he preaches sometimes for the minister of the village, which is about three miles off. I hope to go to church with him to-morrow ; sure it is not in her in- structions to deny me ! He can't have thought of every thing ! And something may strike out for me there. I have asked her, for a feint (because she shan't think I am so well provided) to indulge me with pen and ink, though I have been using my pwn so freely, during her absence ; for I begged to be left to myself a$ much as possible. She says she will let me have it; but then I must promise not to send any writing, out of the house, without her seeing it- I said it was only io divert my grief, when by myself ; for I loved writing as well as reading : but I had nobody to send to, she knew well enough. " No, not at present, may be," said she ; " but 1 am told you are a great writer, and it is in my instructions to see all you write : so, look you here," said she ; " I will let you have a pen, ink, and two sheets of paper ; for this employment will keep you out of worse thoughts : but I must see them always when I ask, written or not written." "That's very hard," said I ; " but may I not have to myself the closet in the room where we sleep, with the key to lock up my things ?" " I belieye I may consent to that," said she ; " and I will set it in order for you, and leave H 3 86 PAMELA. Pamela denied going to Church.. the key in the door. And there is a spi nnet _ too," said she : '* if it be in tune, you may play to divert you now and then ; for I know my old lady learnt you ; and below is my master's library j you may take out what books you will." And indeed these and my writing will be all my amusement : for I have no work given me to do ; and the spinnet, if in tune, will not find nay mind, I am sure, in tune to play upon it. But I went directly and picked out some books from the library, with which I filled a shelf in the closet she gave me possession of; and from these I hope to receive im- provement, as well as amusement. But no sooner was her back turned, than I set about 'hiding a pen of my own here, and another there, and a little of my ink in a broken china cup, and a little in another cup ; and a sheet of paper here and there among my linen, with a little wax and a few papers in several places, lest I should be searched ; and something, I thought, might happen to open a way for my deliverance, by these or some other means. Oh, the pride, thought I, I shall have, if I can secure my innocence, and escape the artful wiles of this wicked master ! If he comes hither I am undone to be sure ! for this naughty woman will assist him, rather than fail in the worst of his attempts ; and he'll have no oc- casion to send her out of the way, as he would have done Mrs. Jervis once. So I must set all my wits at work. It is a grief to me" to write, and not to be able to send to you what I write ; but now it is all the diversion 1 hare, and if God will favour my escape with my innocence, as I trust he graciously will, for all these black prospects, with what pleasure shall I read them afterwards ! I was going to say, " Pray for your dutiful daughter," as I used ; but, alas ! you cannot know my distress, though I am sure I have your prayers : and I will write on, as things happen, that if a way should open, my scribble may be ready to be sent : for what I do must be at a jerk, to be sure. Oh, how I want such an obliging honest hearted man as John ! I AM NOW COME TO SUNDAY. Well, here is a sad thing ! I am denied by this barbarous woman to go to church, as I had built upon I might : and she has huffed poor Mr. Williams all to pieces, for pleading for me. I find he is to be forbid the house if she pleases. Poor gentleman ! all his dependence is upon my master, who has a very good living for him, if the incumbent die, who has kept his bed these four months, of old age and dropsy. He pays me great respect, and I see pities me ; and would, perhaps, assist my escape from these danger* : but I have nobody to plead for me ; and why should I wish to ruin a poor gentleman, by engaging him against PAMELA. 67 Mrs. Jewkes pourtrayed. his interest ? Yet one would do any thing to preserve one's innocence j j and Providence would, perhaps, make it up to him! Oh, judge (but how shall you see wh_at { write !) of my distracted condi- tion, to be reduced to such a pass as to desire to lay traps for mankind ! But he wants sadly to say something to me, as he whisperingly hinted. The wretch (I think I will always call her the wretch henceforth) abuses me more and more. I was but talking to one of the maids just now, in- deed a little to tamper with her by degrees, and she popt upon us, and said, " Nay, Madam, don't offer to tempt poor innocent country maids from doing their duty. You wanted her to take a walk with^you. But I charge you, Nan, never stir with her, nor obey her, without letting me know it, in the smallest trifles. I say walk with you ! and where would you go, 1 tro' ?" " Why, barbarous Mrs. Jewkes," said I, "only to look a little up the elm-walk, since you would not let me go to church." " Nan," said she, to shew me how much they were all in her power, " pull off Madam's shoes, and bring them to me. I have taken care of her others."-. " Indeed she shan't," said I. "Nay," said Nan, " but I must, if my mistress bids me : so pray, Madam, don't hinder me." And so indeed (would you believe it ?) she took my shoes off, and left me barefoot ; and, for my share, I have been so frighted at this, that I have iiet power even to relieve my mind by my tears. I am quite stupified! Here I was forced to leave off. Now I will give you a picture pf this wretch : She is a broad, squat, pursy, fat thing, quite ugly, if any thing human can be so called; about forty years old. She has a huge hand, and an arm as thick as my waist, I believe. Her nose is flat and crooked, and her brows grow down over her eyes ; a dead, spiteful, grey, goggling eye, to be sure she has ; and her face flat and broad : and as to colour, looks as if it had been pickled a month in saltpetre : I dare say she drinks. She has a hoarse man-like voice, and is as thick as she's long : yet looks so deadly strong, that I am afraid she would dash me at her foot in an instant, if I was to vex her. So that with a heart more ugly than her face, she frightens me sadly ; and 1 am undone, to be sere, if God does not protect me ; for she is very, very wicked indeed she- is. This is poor helpless spite in me: but the picture is too near the truth, notwithstanding. She sends me a message, just now, that I shall have my shoes again, if I will accept of her company to walk with me in the garden To waddle with me rather, thought I. , Well, 'tis not my business to quarrel with her down right. I shaH be watched the narrower if 1 do: and so 1 will go with the hated wretch, " Oh, for my dear Mrs, Jervis 1 or rather to be safe with my dear father and mother." 8$ PAMELA. ..i i _ John brings a Letter to Pamela. Oh ! I am out of my wits for joy! Just as 1 have got my shoes on, I am told John, honest John is come on horseback! A blessing on his faith- ful heart 1 What joy is this ! But I'll tell you more by and by. I must not let her know I am so glad to see this dear blessed John, to be sure ! Alas ! but he looks sad, as I see him out of the window ! What can be the matter ? I hope my dear parents are well, and Mrs. Jervis, and Mr. Longman, and every body, my naughty master not excepted for I wish him to live, and repent of all his wickedness to poor me. dear heart ! what a world do we live in ! I am now come to take up my pen again : but I am in a sad taking truly ! Another puzzling trial, to be sure. Here was John, as I said; and the poor man came to me, with Mrs. Jewkes, who whispered that I would say nothing about the shoes for my own sake, as she said. The poor man saw my distress, by my red eyes, and my haggard looks, I suppose ; for I have had a sad time of it, you must needs think ; and though he would have hid it, if he could, yet his own eyes ran over: " O Mrs. Pamela !" said he; "O Mrs. Pamela!" "Well, honest fellow-servant," said I, "I cannot help it at present : I am obliged to your honesty and kindness, to be sure," and then he wept more. Said I (for my heart was ready to break to see his grief; for it is a touching thing to see a man cry) " Tell me the worst ! Is my master coming ?" " No, no," said he, and sobbed. * Well," said I, " is there any news of my poor father and mother ? How do they do ?" " I hope well," said he ; "I know nothing to the contrary." ' There's no mishap, I hope, to Mrs. Jervis, or to Mr. Longman, or my fellow-servants !" u No " said the poor man ; with a long N o, as if his heart would burst. " Well, thank God, then !" said I. "The man'.s a fool," said Mrs. Jewkes, " I think : what ado is here ! why sure thou'rt in love, John. Dost thou not see young m?dam is well! What ails thee, man ?"" Nothing at all," said he: "but I am such a fool as to cry for joy to see good Mrs. Pamela : but I have a letter for you." 1 took it, and saw it was from my master, so I put it in my pocket. Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " you need not, I hope, see this." "No, no," said she, " I see whose it is, well enough ; or else, may be, I must have in- sisted on reading it." " And here is one for you, Mrs. Jewkes," said he ; " but yours," said he to me, " requires an answer, which I must carry back early in the morning, or to-night if I can." " You have no more, John," said Mrs. Jewkes, "for Mrs. Pamela, have you ?" "No," said he, " I have not ; but every body's kind love and service."" Ay, to us both to be sure," said she. " John," said I, " I will read the letter, and pray take care of yourself ; for you are a good man, God bless you ! and PAMELA. 83 Letter to Pamela from her Master. I rejoice to see you, and hear from you all." But I longed to say more ; only that nasty Mrs. Jewkes. So I went up and locked myself in my closet, and opened the letter i and this is a copy of it : " MY DEAREST PAMELA, " I send purposely to you on an affair that concerns you very much and me somewhat, but chiefly for your sake. 1 am conscious that I have proceeded by you in such a manner as may justly alarm your fears, and give concern to your honest friends : all my pleasure is, that I can and will make you amends for the disturbance I have given you. As I pro- mised, I sent to your father the day after your departure, that he might not be too much concerned for you, and assured him of my honour to you; and made an excuse, such an one as ought to have satisfied him, for your not coming to him. But this was not sufficient, it seems ; for he, poor man ! came to me next morning, and set my family almost in an uproar .about you. " O my dear girl ! what trouble has not your obstinacy given me, and yourself too ! I had no way to pacify him, but to promise that he should see a letter written from you to Mrs. .Tervis, to satisfy him you are well. "Now all my care in this case is for your aged parents, lest they should be touched with too fatal a grief for you, whose duty and affection for them I know to be so strong and laudable : for this reason I beg you will Write a few lines to them, and let me prescribe the fo?m ; which I have done, putting myself as near as I can in your place, and expressing your sense with a warmth that I doubt will have too much possessed you. " After what is done, and which cannot now be helped, but which, I assure you, shall turn out honourably, I expect not to be refused ; be- cause I cannot possibly have any view in it, but to satisfy your parents, which is more your concern than mine; and so I beg you will not alter one tittle of the underneath. If you do, it will be impossible for me to send it, or that it should answer the good end I propose by it. " I have promised, that I will not approach you without your leave ; if 1 find you easy, and not attempting to dispute or avoid your present lot, I will keep to my word, although 'tis a difficulty upon me. Nor shall your restraint last long : for I will assure you, that I am resolved very soon to convince you of my good intentions, and with what ardour 1 am yours, &c. The letter he prescribed for me was this : DEAR MRS. JERVIS, 14 I have, instead of being driven by Robin to my dear father'?, been carried off, to where I have no liberty to tell. However, at present, I am 90 PAMELA. Pamela sends a Letter to her Master. not used hardly; and I write to beg you to let my dear father and mo- ther (whose hearts must be well nigh broken) know that I am well ; and that I am, and, by the grace of God, ever will be, their honest as well as dutiful daughter, and your obliged friend. "I must neither send date nor place : but have most solemn assurances of honourable usage." I knew not what to do on thi most strange request and occasion. But my heart bled so much for you, my dear father, who had taken the pains to go yourself, and enquire after your poor daughter, as well as for my dear mother, that I resolved to write, and pretty much in the above form *, that it might be sent to pacify you, till I could let you, some how or other, know the true state of the matter. And I wrote thus to my strange wicked master himself: ". SIR, " If you knew but the anguish of ray mind, and how much I suffer by your dreadful usage of me, vou would surely pity me, and consent to my deliverance. What have I done, that I should be the only mark of your cruelty ? I can have no hope, no desire of living left me, because I cannot have the least dependence upon your solemn assurances, after what has passed. It is impossible they should be consistent with the dishonourable methods you take. " Nothing but your promise of not seeing me here in deplorable bond- age, can give me the least ray of hope. " Don't, I beseech you, drive, the poof distressed Pamela upon a rock, t that may be the destruction both of her soul and body '. Vou don't know, ; Sir, how dreadfully I dene, weak as I am of mind and intellect, when my virtue is in danger. And, oh, hasten my deliverance, that a poor un- worthy creature, below the notice of such a gentleman as you, may not be made the sport of a high condition, for no reason in the world, but be- cause she is not able to defend herself, nor has a friend that can right her. " I have, Sir, in part to shew- my obedience to you, but, I own, more to give ease to the minds of my poor distressed parents, whose poverty, one would think, should screen them from violences of this sort, as well as their poor daughter, followed nearly the form you prescribed for me, in the letter to Mrs. Jervis : the alterations I have made (for I could not help a few) are of such a nature, as though they shew my concern a little, yet must answer the enrl you are pleased to say you propose by this letter. " Pray, good Sir, pity my lowly condition, and my present great misery ; * See page 73: her alterations are in a different character. PAMELA. 91 John's Confession lo Pamela. and let me join with all the rest of your servants to bless that goodness, which you have extended to every one, hut the poor afflicted, heart-broken ** PAMELA." 1 thought when I had written this letter, and that which he had pre- scribed, it would look like placing a confidence in Mrs. Jewkes, to shew them to her ; and I shewed her, at the same time, my master's letter ta me ; for I believed the value he expressed for me would give me credit with one who professed in every thing to serve him, right or wrong; though I had so little reason to pride myself in it. I was not mistaken; for it has influenced her a little ; she is, at present, very obliging, ami runs over in my praises : but is the less to be minded, because she praises as much the author of my miseries, and his hbnowable intentions, as she calls them ; for I see, that she is capable of thinking, as I fear he does, that every thing which makes for. his wicked will is honourable, though to the ruin of the innocent. Pray God I may find it otherwise ! Though, I hope, whatever the wicked gentleman may intend, that I shall be at last rid of her impertinent bold way of talk, when she thinks, from hi* letter, that he means honourable. I AM NOW COME TO MONDAY, THE FIFTH DAY OF MY BONDAGE AND MISERY> I WAS in hope to have an opportunity to see John, and have a littl* private talk with him, before he went away ; but it could not be. The poor man's excessive sorrow made Mrs. Jewkes take it into her head to think he loved me ; so she brought up a message to me from him this morning, that he was going. I desired he might come up to my closet, as I called it ; but she came with him. The honest man, as 1 thought him, was as full of concern as before, at taking leave. I gave him two letter?. the one for Mrs. Jervis, inclosed in another i'or my master : but Mrs. Jewkes would see me seal them up, lest 1 should enclose any thing else. I was surprised, at the man's going away, to see him drop a bit of paper, just at the head of the stairs, which I took up without being observed by Mrs. Jewkes : but I was a thousand times more surprised, when I returned to my closet, and opening it, read as follows : " GOOD MRS. PAMELA, '* I am grieved to tell you how much you have been deceived and be- trayed, and that by such a vile dog as I. Little did I think it would come to this. But I must say, if ever there was a rogue in the world, it is me. I have all along shewed your letters to my master: he employed me for that purpose ; he saw every one, before I carried them to your father and mother ; and then sealed them up, and sent me with them. I had some business that way, but not half so often as I pretended: and as soon as 1 heard hew it was, 1 v. as ready to bang myself. You may well S2 PAMELA. Pamela's Master scuds the Clothes she had left. think I could not stand in your presence. O vile, vile wretch, to bring you to this ! If you are ruined, I am the rogue that caused it. All the justice I can do you, is to tell you, you are in vile hands ; and I am afraid trill be undone, in spite of all your sweet innocence ; I believe I shall never live, after I know it. If you can forgive me, you are exceeding good : but I shall never forgive myself, that's certain. Howsoever, it will do you no good to make this known ; and may hap I may live to do you service. If I can, I will. I am sure I ought. Master kept your last two or three letters, and did not send them at all. I am the most abandoned wretch of wretches. " J. Arnold. " You see your undoing ha* been long hatching. Pray take care of yourself. Mrs. Jewkes is a devil i but in master's t'other house you have not one false heart but myself. Out upon me for a villain !" My dear father and mother, when yon come to this place, I make no doubt your hair will stand on end as mine does ! O th6 deceitfulness of the heart of man ! This John, that I took to be the honestest of men ;. that you took for the same ; that was always praising you to me, and me to you, and for nothing so much as for our honest hearts ; this ve}y fellow was all the while a vile hypocrite, and a perfidious wretch, 'and helping to carry on my ruin. But he says so much of himself, that I will only sit down with this sad reflection, That power and riches never want tools to promote their vilest ends ; there is nothing so hard to be known as the heart of man : I can Wit pity the poor wretch, since he seems to have great remorse ; I Relieve it best to keep his wickedness secret. If it lies in my way, I will encourage his penitence ; for I may possibly make some discoveries hy it. One thing I should mention in this place ; he brought down, in a port- manteau, all the clothes and things my lady and master had given me, and moreover two velvet hoods, and a velvet scarf, that used to be worn bj my lady ; but I have no comfort in them, or any thing else. Mrs. Jewkes had the portmanteau brought into my closet, and she shewed me what was in it ; but then locked it up, and said, she would let me have what I would out of it, when I asked ; but if I had the key, it n>ight make me want to go abroad, may be ; and so the confident woman put it in her pocket. T gave myself over to sad reflections upon this strange and surprising discovery of John's, and wept much for him, and for myself too ; for now I see, as he says, my ruin has been long hatching, that I can make no doubt what my master's honourable professions will end in. What a heap of hard names does the poor fellow call himself! But what must they PAMELA. 93 . i. i i i i Pamela's Stratagem to inform Mr. Williams of her Condition. , deserve who set him to Work ! Oh, what has this wicked master to answer for, to be so corrupt himself, and to corrupt others, who Would have been innocent ; and to carry on a plot, to ruin a poor creature, who never did Lira harm, nor wished him any ; and who can still pray for his happiness and his repentance ? I can't but wonder what these gentlemen, as they are called, can think of themselves for these vile doings ! John had some inducement ; for he hoped to please his master, who rewarded him ; and the same may Le said, bad as she is, for the odious Mrs. Jewkes. But what inducement has my master, for taking so much pains to do the devil's work ! If he loves me, as 'tis falsely called, must he therefore lay traps for me, to ruin me, and make me as bad as himself? I cannot imagine what good the undoing of such a poor creature as I can procure him. To be sure, I am a very worthless body. People say I am handsome : but if I was so, should not a gentleman prefer an honest servant to a guilty harlot? And must he be more earnest to seduce me, because I dread to be seduced, and would rather lose my life than my honesty. Well, these are strange things ! I cannot account for them ; but surely nobody will say that these fine gentlemen have any tempter but their own wicked wiils ! This naughty master could run away from me, when he apprehended his servants might discover his vile attempts in that sad closet affair ; but is it not strange, that he should not be afraid of the All- seeing Eye, from which even that base, plotting heart of his, in its most secret motions, could not be hid ! But what avail these sorrowful reflect tions ? He is and will be wicked, and designs me a victim to his lawless attempts, if the God in whom I trust, and to whom I hourly pray, pre- vent it not, TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY. I have been hindered from writing on Tuesday, by this wicked wo- man's watching me so close : I will therefore put both these days toge-, ther. I have taken an airing in the chariot, and walked several times in the garden ; but have always her at my heels. Mr. Williams came, and took a walk with us, and while Mrs. Jewkes's back was turned (encouraged by the hint he had before given me) I said, " Sir, I see two tiles upon that parsley-bed; might not one cover theru with mould, with a note between them, 0:1 occasion ?" "A good hint," said he ; " let that sunflower by the back-door of the garden be the place : I have a key to the door ; for it is my nearest way to the town." Oh, what inventions will necessity put us upon ! I hugged myself at the thought ; and she coming to us, he said, as if he was continuing a dis- course we were in, " No, not extraordinary pleasant." " What's that? what's that i" said Mrs. Jewkes. " Only," said he, oor town to my thinking.'* " Are there any gentry in it ?" said I. So we chatted on about the town, to deceive her. But uiy deceit intended no hr c to any body. We then talked of the garden, how large and pleasant it was, and sat down on the tufted slope of a fish-pond, to see the fishes play upon the surface of the water : she said, I should angle if I would. " I wish," said I, " you'd be so kind as to fetch roe a rod and baits." * Pretty mistress !" said she, " I know better than that, I'll assure you, at this time.'/ " 1 mean no harm," said I, " indeed." " Let me tell you," said she, " I know none who have their thoughts more about them than you. A body ought to look to it where you are. But we'll angle a little to-morrow." Mr. Williams, who is much afraid of her, turned the discourse to a general sulject. I sauntered in, and left them to talk by themselves ; he went away to town, and she was soon after me. I had got to my pen and ink ; and 1 said, *' I want some paper, Mrs. Jewkes" (putting what I was about in my bosom :) " you know I Lave written two letters, and sent them by John." (Oh, how his name, poor guilty fellow, grieves me!) "Well," said she, "you have some left ; one sheet did for those two letters." " Yes," said I ; " but I used half another for a cover, you know ; and see how I have scribbled the other half: so I shewed her a parcel of broken scraps of verses, which I had tried to recollect, and had written purposely that she might see, and think me usually employed to such idle purposes. " Ay," said she, " so you have : well, I'll give you tw,o sheets more; but let me see how you dispose of them, either written or blank." " Well," thought I, " 1 hope yet, Argus, to be too hard for thee." Now Argus, the poets say, had a hundred eyes, and was set to watch with them all, as she' does. She brought me the paper, and said, " Now, Madam, let me see you write something." " I will," said I, and took the pen and wrote, " I wish Mrs. Jewkes would be so good to me, as I would be to her, if 1 had it in my power." "That's pretty now," said she, " well, I hope I am ; hut what then ?" " Why then [wrote I) she would do me the favour to let me know what 1 have done to he made her prisoner \ and what she thinks is to become of me." " Well, and*whst then ?" sai ^ahe. " Why then of consequence (scribbled J) she would let me see her instructions, that 1 may know how far to blame or acquit her." Thus 1 fooled on to shew her my fondness for scribbling (for I had no xpectation of any good from her) that she might suppose I employed myself, as I said, to no better purpose at other times ; for she will have it that I am upon seme plot, I am so silent, and love so much to be by l&yself. She would have u:e write on a little farther. " No," said I ; PAMELA. 95 Pamela's Letter to Mr. Williams. '* you have not answered me.'; '* Why," said she, " what can you doubt, when my master himself assures you of his honour ?"-" Ay," said I, " but lay your hand to your heart, Mrs. Jewkes, and tell me, if you your- self believe him." " Yes," said she, ' ; to be sure I do." " But," said I, " what do you call honour ?" " Why," said she, " what he does he call honour, think you ?" " Ruin '. shame '. disgrace '." said I, " I fear." *' Pho ! pho '." said she, " if you have any doubt about it, he can best explain his own meaning : Til send him word to come and satisfy you, if you will." " Horrid creature !" said I, all in a fright, " canst thou not stab me to the heart ! I'd rather thou wouldst, than say such another word ! But I hope there's no though c of his coming." She had the wickedness to say, " No, no ; he don't intend to come as 1 know of But if I was he, I would not be long away." " What means the woman T" said I. " Mean!" said she (turning it off) " why I mean I would come, rf I was he, and put an end to all your fears by making you as happy as you wish." u *Tis out^of his power," said I, " to make me happy, great and rich as he is ; but by leaving me innocent and giving rae liberty to go Wmy dear father and mother." She went away soon after, and I ended my letter, in hopes to have ac opportunity to lay it in the appointed place. So I went to her, and said s ** I suppose, as it is not quite dark, I may take another turn in the gar- den." " 'Tis too late," said she ; " but if you will go, don't stay : and Nan, see and attend Madam," as she called me. So I went towards the pond, the maid following me, and dropped pur- posely my hussy : when I came near the tiles, I said, " Mrs. Anne, I have dropt my hussy ; be so kind as to look for it : I had it by the pond side." She went back to Jook, and I slipped the note between the tiles, and covered them as quick as I could with the light mould, quite unper- eeived -, the maid finding the hussy, 1 took it, sauntered in again, aud uet Mrs. Jewkes coming to see after me. What I wrote was this ; " REVEREND SIR, " TtrE want of an opportunity to speak my mind to you, I am sure, will excuse this boldness in a poor creature that is betrayed hither, I have reason to think, for the worst of purposes. You know something of my story, my native poverty, which I am not ashamed of, my late lady's goodness, anil my master's designs upon me. 'Tis true, he promises ho- Rour, and all that ; but the honour of the wicked is disgrace and shame to the virtuous : and he may think he keeps his promises, according to the notions he holds, and yet, according to mine and every good body's, basely ruin me. *'l am so wretched and ill-treated by this Mrs. Jewkes, and she is so 96 , PAMELA. Pamela implores Mr. Williams's Assistance to escape. ' ' i * ill-principled a woman, that as I may soon want the opportunity which Ihe happy hint of this day affords to my hopes, f throw myself at once upon your goodness, without the least reserve ; for I cannot be worse than I am, should that fail me ; which I dare say, to your power, it will not : for I see it, Sir, in your looks, I hope it from your cloth, and I doubt it not from your inclination, in a case circumstanced as my unhappy one is. For, Sir, in helping me out of my present distress, you perform all the acts of religion in one ; and the highest mercy and charity, both to the body and soul of a poor wretch, that, believe me, Sir, has at pre- sent, not so much as in thought, swerved from her innocence. " Is there not some way to be found out for my escape, without danger to yourself ? Is there no gentleman or lady of virtue in this neighbour- hood to whom I may fly, only till I can find a way to get to my poor father and mother ? Cannot Lady Davers be made acquainted with my sad story, by ycur conveying a letter to her ? My poor parents are so low in the world, they can do nothing but break their hearts for me ; and that, I fear, will be the end of it. " My master promises, if I will be easy, as he calls it, in my present lot, he will not come down without my consent. Alas ! Sir, this is no- thing : for what's the promise of a person who thinks himself at liberty to act as he has done by me ? If he comes, it must be to ruin me ; and come to be sure he will, when he thinks he has silenced the clamours of my friends, and lulled me, as no doubt he hopes, into a fatal security. " Now, Sir, is all the time I have to work and struggle for the preser- vation of my honesty. If I stay till he comes I am undone. You have a key to the back garden-door ; I have great hopes from that. Study, good Sir, and contrive for me, I will faithfully keep your secrets Yet I should be loath to have you suffer for me '. " I say no more, but commit this to the happy tiles, in the bosom of that earth, where I hope my deliverance will take root, and bring forth such fruit, as may turn to my inexpressible joy, and your eternal reward, both here and hereafter : as shall ever pray, '< Your oppressed humble servant.'* THURSDAY. This completes a terrible week since my setting out, as 1 hoped to see you, my dear father and mother. Oh, how different were my hopes then, from rfhat they are now ! Yet who kn the meney trick of this vile woman, &c. I had not time to take a copy of this letter, I was so watched. But when I had it in my bosom, I was easy. And so 1 went to seek out Mrs. Jewkes, and told her I would have her advice upon the letter 1 had re- ceived from my master; which point of confidence in her pleased her not a little. *' Ay," said she, " now this is something -like : and We'll take a turn- in the garden, or where you please." I pretended it was indifferent to me ; and so we walked into the garden. I began to talk to her of the letter ; but was far from acquainting -her with all the contents ; only that he wanted my consent to come down, and hoped she used me kindly, and the like. And I said, " Now, Mrs. Jewkes, let me have your advice a? to this." " Why then," said she, " I will give it you freely : e'en send to him to come down. It will highly oblige him, and I dare say you'lj fare the better for it." "How the better?" said {. "I dare say, you think yourself he intends my ruin." c< I hate," said she, " that foolish word. Your ruin ! Why ne'er a lady in the land may live happier than you, if you will, or be more honourably used." " Well, Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " I shall not at this time dispute with you about the words ruin and Iwnourable ; for I find we have quite different notions of both : but I will speak plainer than ever I did. Do you think he intends to make proposals to. me as a kept mistress, or rather a kept slave?" " Why, lambkin," said she, " what doat thou think thyself?" " 1 fear," said I, " he does." " Well," said she. " Imt if he does (for I know nothing of the matter, I assure you) you may have your own terms I see that ; for you may do any thing with him." I could not bear this to be spoken, though it was all I feared of a long time, and began to exclaim most sadly. " Nay," said she, " he may marry you, as far as I know." " No, no," said I, " that cannot he. 1 neither PAMELA. 4 107 Famela's Trick upon Mrs. Jewkes in order to convey her Letters. desire nor expect it. His condition don't permijt me to have such a thought : the whole series of his conduct convinces me of the contrary : you would have me invite him to come down, would you ? Is not this to invite my ruin ?" " 'Tis what I would do," said she, " in your place ; and if it was to be as'you think, I should rather be out of my pain, than live in continual frights and apprehensions, as you do." "No," replied I, " an hour of innocence is worth an age of guilt ; and were my life to be made ever so miserable by it, I should never forgive myself, if I were not to lengthen out to the longest minute, my happy time of honesty. Who knows what Providence may do for me ?" " Why, may be," said she, " as he loves you so well, you may prevail upon him by your prayers and tears ; and for that reason I should think, you'd better let him come down."" Well," said I, " I will write him a letter, because he expects an answer, or may be he will make a pretence to come down." " How can it go ?" " Fll take care of that," said she, " it is in my instructions." "Ay," thought I, "so I doubt by the hint Mr. Williams gave me about the post-house." The gardener coming by, I said, " Mr. Jacob, I have planted a few beans, and I call the place my garden. It is just by the door out yonder : I'll shew it you : pray don't dig them up." So I went on with him, and when we bad turned the alley, out of her sight, and were near the place, I said, " Pray step to Mrs. Jewkes, and ask her if she has any more beam for me to plant." He smiled at my foolishness ; and I popped the letter under the mould, and stepped back, as if waiting for his return : which, being near, was immediate, and she followed him. " What should I do with beans ?" said she, and sadly scared me, for she whiskered me, " I am afraid of some fetch. You send me on such simple errands." " What fetch ?" said I : "it is hard I can neither stir, nor speak, but I must be suspected."" Why," saidyhe, " my master writes, that I must have all my eyes about me ; for though you are as innocent as a dove, yet you're as cunning as a serpent. But I'll forgive you, if you cheat me." Then I thought of my money, and could have called her names, had I dared. I said, " Pray, Mrs. Jewkes, now you talk of forgiving me, if I cheat you, be so kind as to pay me my money : for though I have no oc- casion for it, yet I know you was but in jest, and intended to give it me again." " You shall have it in a proper-time," said she ; " but, indeed, I was in earnest to get it out of your hands, for fear you should make an ill use of it." So we cavilled upon this subject as we walked in, and I went up to write my letter to my master. As I intended to shew it her, I re- solved to write accordingly as to her part of it j for I made little account 108 PAMELA. Pamela's Letter to her Master. of his offer of Mrs. Jervis to me, instead of this wicked woman (though the most agreeable thing that could have befallen me, except my escape from hence) nor indeed any thing he said. For to be honourable, in the just sense of the word, he need not have caused me to be run away with, and confined as I am. I wrote as follows ; " HONOURED SIR, " When I consider how, easily you might make me happy, since all I desire is to be permitted to go to my poor father and mother ; \\ hen I reflect upon your former proposal to me, in relation to a certain person, not one word of which is how mentioned ; and upon my being in that strange manner run away with, and still kept here a miserable prisoner; do you think, Sir (pardon your poor servant's freedom ; my fears make me bold ; do you think, I say) that your general assurances of honour to me, can have the effect they ought to have? O good Sir ! I too much apprehend that your notions of honour and mine are very different from one another : I have no other hope but in your continued absence, if you have any proposals to make me, that are consistent with your honour- able professions, in my humble sense of the word, a few lines will commu- nicate them to me, and I will return such an answer as befits me. Bat what proposals can ou* in yoor high station have to make to one in my low degree ! I know what belongs to your exalted station too well, to ima- gine that any thing can be expected but sad temptations, and utter dis- tress, if you come down ; you know not, Sir, when I am made desperate, what the wretched Pamela dares do ! " Whatever rashness you may impute to me, I cannot help it ; but I wish 1 may not be forced upon any, that otherwise would nver enter my thoughts. Forgive hie, Sir, my plainness ; I should be loath to behave to my master unbecomingly : but I must say, Sir, my innocence is so dear to me, that my observations must be dispensed with. If you mean honour- ably, why, Sir, should you not let me know it plainly ? Why is it neces- sary to imprison me, to convince me of it ? Why must I be close watched, attended, and hindered from stirring out, from speaking to any body, or from going so much as to church to pray for you, who have been, till of late, so generous a benefactor to me ? Why, Sir, I humbly ask, why all this, if you mean honourably ? It is not for me to expostulate so freely with you, Sir, so greatly my superior. Pardon me, I hope you will ; but as to seeing' you, I cannot bear the- dreadful apprehension. Whatever you have to propose, whatever you intend by me, let my assent be that of a free person, and not of a sordid slave, who is to be threatened and frightened into a compliance with measures, which your conduct seems to imply. My restraint is hard upon me; I am very uneasy under it. PAMELA. i0S> Pamela paraphrases a Psalm. Shorten it, I beseech you, or But I will not darcto say more, than that I am your greatly oppressed, unhappy sei-vant." After I had taken a copy of this, I folded it up ; and Mrs. Jewke*, coming just as I had done, sat down by me ; and said, when she saw me direct it, " I wish you would tell me if you have taken my advice, and onsented to my master's coming down." " If it will oblige you," said I, " I will read it to you." "That's good," said she ; " then I'll love you dearly." Said I, " Then you must not offer to alter one word." " I won't," replied she. So I read it to her; she praised me much for my wording it ; but said, she thought I pushed the matter very close ; and it would better bear talking of, than writing about. She wanted an expla- nation or two, as about the proposal to a certain person ; but I said, she must take it as she heard it. " Well, well," said she, " I make no doubt you understand one another, aud will do so more and more." I sealed up the letter, and she undertook to convey it. , SUNDAY. For my part, I knew it in vain to expect leave to go to church now j so I did not ask : I was the more indifferent, because if I might have had permission, the sight of the neighbouring - gentry who had despised my Sufferings, would have given me great regret arid sorrow ; and it was im- possible I should have edified under any doctrine preached by Mr. Peters so I applied myself to my private devotions. Mr. Williams came yesterday, and this day, as. usual, and took my let- ter ; but, having no good opportunity, we avoided one another's conver- sation, and kept at a distance; but I was concerned I had not the key; for I would uot have lost a moment in that case. When I was at my devotion, Mrs. Jewkes came up, and wanted me to sing her a psalm, as she had often on common days importuned me for a song upon the spinnet : but I declined it, because my spirits were so low I could hardly speak, nor cared to be spoken to : but when she was gone, I, remembering the exxxviith psalm to be a little touching, turned to it, and took the liberty to alter it, somewhat nearer to my case- I hope I did not sin in it ; but thus I turned it : When sad I sat in U n hall, All guarded round about, And thought of ev'ry absent friend, The tears of grief burst out. f My joys and hopes all overthrown, My heart-strings almost broke, Unfit my mind for melody, .Much more to hear a joke ; 210 ; PAMELA. -'; 1 Mr. Williams undertakes to forward Pamela's Papers to her Parent?. Then she to whom I prisoner was, Said to me tauntingly *f Now cheer your heart, and sing a song, And tune your mind to joy." . " Alas !" said I, " how can I frame My heavy heart to sing, Or tune my mind while thus enthrall'd By such a wicked tiling ! But yet, if from my innocence I e'en in thought should slide, Then let my fingers quite forget The sweet spinnet to guide. And let my tongue within my mouth Be lock'd for ever fast, If I rejoice, before I see My full deliverance past." And thou, Almighty; recompense The evils I endure From those that seek my sad disgrace, So causeless to procure. MONDAY, TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY. I write now with a little more liking, though less opportunity^ be- cause Mr. Williams has got a large parcel of my papers safe in his hands, to send them to you, as he has opportunity ; so that I am not quile use- lessly employed ; I am, besides, delivered from the fear of their being found, if I should be searched. I have been permitted to take an airing, five or six miles, with Mrs. Jewkes : but, though I know not the reason, she watches me more closely than ever ; so that we have discontinued, I by consent these three days, the sunflower correspondence. The poor cook maid has had a bad mischance ; for she has been hurt much by a bull in the pasture, by the side of the garden, not far from the back door. This pasture I am to cross, which is about half a mile, and then is a common, and near that a private horse-road, where I hope to find an opportunity for escaping, as soon as Mr. Williams can get me a horse, and has made all ready for me : he has got me the key, which he put under the mould, just by the door. - He just now has signified, that the gentleman is dead, whose living he has had hope of, he came pretetidedly to tell Mrs. Jewkes of it. She wished him joy. See what the world is ! one man's death is another man's joy. Thus we thrust out one another ! My hard case makes me serious. PAMELA. Ill Mr. Williams discloses his 3Iind to Pamela. He found means to slide a letter into my hands, and is gone away : he looked at me with sueh respect and solemness at parting, that Mrs. Jewkes said, " Why, Madam, I believe our young parson js half in love with you." .* Ah ! Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " he knows better." Said she (I believe to sound me) " Why, I can't see you can either of you do bet- ter; and I have lately been so touched for you, seeing how heavily you apprehended dishonour from my master, that I think it is pity you should t not have Mr. Williams." I knew this must be a fetch of her's, because instead ef being troubled for me, as she pretended, she watched me closer, and him too : so I said, " There is not the man living that I desire to marry. If I can hut keep myself honest, it 'is all my desire : and to be a comfort and assistance to my poor parents, if this should be my happy lot, it is the very top of my ambition."" Well, but," said she, " I have been thinking very seriously, that Mr. Williams would make you a good husband ; and as he will owe all his fortune to my master, he will be very glad to be obliged to him for-a wife of his choosing ; especially," said she, " such a pretty one, and one so ingenious,, and genteelly educated." This gave me doubt whether she knew of my master's intimation of that sort formerly : I asked her, if she had reason to surmise that that was in view ? " No," she said ; " it was only her own thought :" but it was very likely that my master had either that in view, or something better for me. But if I approved of it, she would propose such a thing to her master directly : and gave a detestable hint, that I might take reso- lutions upon it, of bringing such an affair to effect. I told her, I ab- horred her vile insinuation : and as to Mr. Williams, I thought' him a civil good sort of man ; but as, on one side, he was above me ; so, on the other, I said, of all things, I did not love a parson. Finding she could make nothing of me, she quitted the subject. 1 will open this letter by-and-'y, and give you the contents of it ; for she is up and down so much, that I am afraid of her surprising me. Well, I see Providence has not abandoned me : I shall be under no necessity to make advances to Mr. Williams, if I was (as I am sure I am . not) disposed to it. This is his letter :_- " I know not how to express myself, lest I should appear to you to have a selfish view in the Service I would do you. But I really know but one effectual and honourable way to disengage yourself from the dan- gerous situation you are in. It is that of marriage with some person that you can make happy in your approbation. As for my own part, it would be, as things stand, my apparent ruin ! and worse still, I should involve you in misery too. But yet, so great is my veneration for you, so entire n PAMELA. Pamela's Answer to Mr. Williams's Letter. x my reliance on Providence, upon so just an occasion, that I should think myself but too happy, if I might be accepted. I would in this case " Don't think this a sudden resolution. I always admired your bear- say character ; and the moment I saw you, wished* to serve so much excellence." What shall I say, my dear father and mother, to this unexpected de- claration ? I want, more than ever, your blessing and direction. But, after all, I have no mind to marry : I had rather live with you. But yet, I would marry a man who begs from door to door, and has no home, rather than endanger my honesty. Yet I cannot, methinks, hear of being a wife. After a thousand different thoughts, I wrote as follows : " REVEREND SIR, " I am greatly confused at the contents of your last. You are much too generous ; I can't bear you should risk all your future prospects for so unworthy a creature. I cannot think of your offer without equal con- cern and gratitude ; for nothing, but to avoid my utter ruin, can make me think of changing my condition : and so, Sir, you ought not to accept of such an involuntary compliance, as mine would be, was I, upon the last necessity, toyield to your very generous proposal. I will rely wholly upon your goodness to me, in assisting my escape ; but shall not, on your account principally, think of the honour you propose for me, at, present ; and never shall, but at the pleasure of my parents, who, poor as they are, in such a weighty point, are as much entitled to my obedience and duty, as if they were ever so rich. I beg you therefore, Sir, not to think of any thing from me, but everlasting gratitude, which will always bind me, to be your most obliged servant. THDRSDAY, FRIDAY, SATURDAY, THE 14th, 15th, AND 16th, OF MY BONDAGE, Mrs. Jewkes has received a letter, and is much chiller to me, and Mr. Williams too, than she used to be. I wonder I have not one in answer to mine from my master. I suppose I put the matter too home to him ; and he is angry. I am not the more pleased with her civility t for she is horrid cunning, and is not a whit less watchful. I laid a trap to PAMELA. 113 i"' - . . ' - Letter to Mr. Williams from Pamela's Master. get her instructions, which she carries in the bosom of her stays ; but it has not succeeded. My last letter is come safe to Mr. Williams by the old conveyance, so that he is not suspected. He has intimated, that though I have not come so readily as he hoped into his scheme, yet his diligence shall not be slackened, and he will leave it to Providence and myself to dispose of him as he shall be found to deserve. He has signified to me, that he shall soon send a special messenger with the packet to you ; I have added to it what has occurred since. SUNDAY. > t AM just now quite astonished ! I hope all is right but 1 have a strange turn to acquaint you with. Mr. Williams and Mrs. Jewkes came to me both together ; he in ecstasies, she with a strange fluttering sort of air. " Well," said she, " Mrs. Pamela, I give you joy ! 1 give you joy ! Let nobody speak but me ! Then she sat down, as out of breath, puffing and Wowing. " Why, every thing turns as I said it would !" said she : " why there is to be a match between you and Mr. Williams. Well, I always thought it. Never was so good a master! Go to, go to, naughty, mis- trustful Mrs. Pamela, nay, Mrs. Williams," said the forward creature, *' I may as well call you so : you ought on your knees to beg his pardon a thousand times for mistrusting him." She was going on ; but I said, " Don't torture me thus, I beseech you, Mrs. Jewkes. Let me know all ! Ah, Mr. Williams," said I, " take care, take care !" " Mistrustful again 1" said she ; *' do, Mr. Williams, shew her your letter : and I will shew her mine : they were brought by the same hand." I trembled at the thoughts of what this might mean ; and said, " you have so sururised me, that I cannot stand, hear, or read ! Why did you come up in such a manner to attack such weak spirits ?" Said he to Mrs. Jewkes, "Shall we leave our letters with Mrs. Pamela, and let her re- cover from her surprise ?" " Ay," said she, " with all my heart ; here is nothing but flaming honour and good will I" And so saying they left me their letters and withdrew. My heart was quite sick with the surprise ; so that I could not directly read them, notwithstanding my impatience; but, after a while, recover- ing, I found the contents thus strange and unexpected : "MR. WILLIAMS, " The death of Mr. Fownes has now given me the opportunity I have long wanted to make you happy, and that in a double respect : for I shall soon put you in possession of his living, and if you have the art of mak- ing yourself well received, of one of the loveliest wives in England. Sha a Z- h 114 PAMELA. ' Letter to Mrs. Jewkes from Pamela's Master. has not been used (as she has reason to think) according to her merit ; but when she finds herself under the protection of,a man of virtue and probity, and a happy competency to support life in the manner to which she has been of lat^years accustomed, I am persuaded she will forgive those seeming hardships which have paved the way to so happy a lot, as I hope it will be to you both. I have only to account for the odd con- duct I have been guilty of, which I shall do when I see yon : but, as I shall soon set out for London, I believe it will not be yet this month. Moan time, if you can prevail with Pamela, you need not suspend your mutual happiness : only let me have notice of it first, and that she ap- proves of it ; which ought to be, in so material a point, entirely at her option : as I assure you, on the other hand, I would have it at your's, that nothing may be wanting to complete your happiness. I am your humble servant." Was ever the like heard ! Lie still my throbbing heart, divided as thou art, between thy hopes and thy fears ! But this is the letter Mrs. Jewkes left with me : " MRS. JEWKF.S, M You have been very careful and diligent in the task, which, for rea- sons I shall hereafter explain, I had imposed upon you. Your trouble is now almost at an end ; for I have written my intentions to Mr. William? so particularly, that I need say the less here, because he will not scruple, 1 believe, to let you know the contents of my letter. I have only one thing to mention, that if you find what I have hinted to him in the least mea- sure disagreeable to either, you may assure them both, that they are at entire liberty to pursue their own inclinations. I hope you continue your civilities to the mistrustful, uneasy Pamela, who will now begin to think better of hers and your friend," &c. I had hardly time to transcribe these letters, though, writing so much, I write pretty fast, before they both came up again in high spirits; and Mr. Williams said, " I am glad, Madam, 1 was beforehand in my decla- rations to you ; this generous letter has made me the happiest man on earth ; and, Mrs. Jewkes, if I can procure this fair one's consent, I shall think myself " I interrupted the good man, and said, *' Ah ! Mr. Williams, take care, take care ; don't let " There I stopt, and Mrs. Jewkes said, "Still mistrustful! 1 never saw the like in my life ! But I see," said she, " I was not wrong, while my old orders lasted, to be wary of you both I should have had a hard task to prevent you, I find ; for as the saying is, Nought can strain consent of twain." I doubted net her taking hold of his joyful indiscretion. I took her PAMELA. 115 Pamela's Suspicions of Mr. Williams. ''' ' letter, and said, " Here, Mrs. Jewkes, is- yours ; I thank you for it ; but I have been so long ij% a m aze that I can say nothing to this for the pre- sent. Time will bring all to light. Sir," said I, " here is yours ; may every thing turn to your happiness ! I give you joy of my master's good- ness in the living."" It will be dying," said he, " not a living, without you." " Forbear, Sir," said I : " while J have a father and mother, I am not my own mistress, poor as they are : and I'll see myself quite at liberty, before I shall think myself fit to make a choice." Mrs. Jewkes held up her eyes and hands, and said, " Such art, such caution, such cunning, for thy years !" " Well! Why," said I (that he might be on his guard, though I hope there cannot be deceit in this ; it would be strange villany if there should !) " I have been so used to be made a fool of by fortune, that I hardly can tell how to govern myself ; and am almost an infidel as to mankind. But I hope I may be wrong ; henceforth, Mrs. Jewkes, you shall regulate my opinions as you please, 1 will consult you in every thing that I think proper," said I to myself ; for though I may forgive her, I can never love her. She left Mr. Williams and me a few minutes together ; I said, " Con- sider, Sir, what you have done."-r-" 'Tis impossible," said be, " there can be deceit." "I hope so," said 1 ; " but what necessity was there for you to talk of your former declaration ? Let this be as it will, that could do no good, especially before this woman. Forgive me, Sir ; they talk of women's promptness of speech ; but I see an honest heart is not always to be trusted with itself in bad company." He was going to reply, but though her task is said to be almost (I took notice of that word) at an end, she came up to us again, and said, " Well, I had a good mind to shew you the way to church to-morrow." I was glad of this, because, though in my present doubtful situation I should not have chosen it, yet I would have encouraged her proposal, to be able to judge of her being in earnest or otherwise, whether one might depend upon the rest. But Mr. Williams again indiscreetly helped her to an excuse, by saying, that it was now best to defer it one Sunday, and till matters were riper for my appearance : she readily took hold of it, and confirmed his opinion. After all, I hope the best ; but if this should turn out to be a plot, I fear nothing but a miracle can save me. But sure the heart of man is not capable of such deceit. Besides, Mr. Williams has it under his owa band, he dare not but be in earnest ; and thwri again, though, to be sure, he has been very wrong to me, yet his education, and parents' example, hive neither of them taught him such very black contrivances. So I will hope for the best ! Mr. Williams, Mrs. Jewkes, and I, have been all three walking toge- k2 11(5 PAMELA. Mrs. Jewkes changes her Conduct towards Pamela. ther fn the garden ; she pulled out her key, and we walked a little in the pasture to look at the bull, an ugly, grim, surly creature, that hurt the poor cookmaid, who is got pretty well again. Mr. Williams pointed at the sunflower, but I was forced to be very reserved to him ; for the poor gentleman has no guard, no caution at all. We have just supped together, all three ; and I cannot yet think but all must be right. Only I am resolved not to marry, if I can help it ; and I will give no encouragement, I am resolved, at least, till I am with you. Mr. Williams said, before Mrs. Jewkes, he would send a messenger with a letter to my father and mother, I think the man has no discretion : but I desire you will send no answer, till I ha--e the pleasure and happi- ness, which now I hope for soon, of seeing you. He will in sending my packet, send a most tedious parcel of stuff, of my oppressions, distresses, and/ Oh, ' this wicked woman to trick me soJ Every thing, man, woman, and beast, is in a plot against your poor Pamela, 1 think! Then I knew not PAMELA. 119 Pamela afraid to escape. one step of the way, uor how far to any house or cottage ; and whether I could gain protection, if I got to a house ; and now the robbers are abroad too, I may run into as great dangers as I want to escape ; nay, much greater, if these promising appearances hold : and sure my master cannot be so black as that they should not ! What can I do ? I have a good mind to try for it once more ; but then I may be pursued and taken : it will be worse for me ; this wicked woman will beat me, take my shoes away, and lock me up. But after all, if my master should mean well, he can't be angry at my fears, if I should escape; and nobody can blame me: I can more easily be induced, with you, when all my apprehensions are over, to consider his proposal of Mr. Williams, than I could here ; he pretends, as you have read in his letter, he will leave me to my choice ; why, then, should I be afraid ? I will go down again, I think ! But yet my heart misgives me, because the difficulties in escaping; and being so poor and so friendless ! O Lord ! the preserver of the innocent ! direct me what to do! I have just now a sort of strange persuasion upon me, that I ought to try to get away, and leave the issue to Providence. So, once more I'll see, at least if this bull be still tbere. Aiack-a-day ! what a fate is this ! I have not the courage to go, neither can I think to stay. But I must resolve. The gardener was in sight last time ; so made me come up again. But I'll contrive to send him out of the way, if I can : For if I never should have such another opportunity, I could not forgive myself. Once more I'll veuture. God direct my footsteps, and make smooth my path, and my way to safety! Well, here I am, come back again ! frighted, like a fool, out of all my purposes. Oh, how terrible every thing appears to me ! I had got twice s far as I was before, out of the back-door : 1 looked and saw the bull, as I thought, between me and the door; and another bull coming towards me the other way. Well, thought I, here is a double witchcraft to be sure ! Here is the spirit of my master in one buil, and Mrs. Jewkes's in the other : now I am gone, to be sure! Oh, help ! cried I, like a fool, and ran back to the door, as swift as if I flew. When I bad g.'t the door in my hand, I ventured to look back, to see if these supposed bulls were coining; when I saw they were only two cows grazing in distant places, that my fears had made all this rout about, But as every thing is so frightful to me, I find I am not fit to think of my escape ; for I shall bei equally frighted at the first strange man that I meet with : I am peri suaded, that fear brings one into more dangers, than the caution whicQ goes along with it delivers one from. 1 then locked the door, and put the key in my pocket, and was in a K 1 120 PAMELA. Mrs. Jewkes returns from visiting Mr. Williams. sad quandary ; but I was soon determined ; for the maid Nan came in sight, and asked if any thing was the matter, that I was so often up and down stairs ! 1 had a sad lie at my tongue's end : said I, " Though Mr. Jewkes is sometimes a little hard upon me, yet I know not where I am without her : I go up, and I come down to walk about in the garden : and, not having her, know scarcely what to do with myself." " Ay," said the idiot, " She is main good company, Madam ; no wonder you miss her." So here I am again, and likely to be ; for I have bo courage to help myself any where else. Oh, why are poor foolish maidens tried with such dangers, when they have such weak minds to grapple with them ! I will, since it is so, hope the best : but yet I cannot but observe how grievously every thing makes against me : for here are the robbers ; though I fell not into their hands, yet they gave me as much terror, and had as great an effect upon my fears, as if I bad : and here is the bull : it has as ef- fectually frighted me, as if I had been hurt by it instead of the cook- maid ; and so these join together to i.'.ake a very dastard of me. But my folly was worst of all, because that deprived me of my money ; for had I that, I believe I should have ventured both the bull and the robbers. MONDAY AFTERNOON. So, Mrs. Jewkes is returned from her visit : " Well," said she, '* I would have you set your heart at rest ; for Mr. Williams will do very well again. He is not half so bad as he fancied. O these scholars," said she, " they have not the hearts of mice ! He has only a few scratches on his face, which," said she, " I suppose he got by grappling among the gravel at the bottom of the dam, to try to find a hole in the ground, to hide himself from the robbers. His shin and his knee hardly ail any thing. He says in his letter, he was a frightful spectacle : he might b so when he first tame in doors ; but he looks well enough now : and, only for a few groans now and then, when he thinks of his danger, I see nothing the matter with him. So, Mrs. Pamela," said she, "I would have you be very easy about it."" I am glad of it," said I, " for all your jokes," to Mrs. Jewkes. " Well," said she, " he talks of nothing but you ; and when I told him I would fain have persuaded you to come with me, the man was out of his wits with his gratitude to me : and has laid open all his heart to me, told me all that has passed, and what was contriving between you." This alarmed me prodigiously, as 1 saw by two or three instances, that his honest heart could keep nothing, believing every one as undesigning as himself. I said, but with a heavy heart, " Ah ! Mrs. Jewkes, Mrs. Jewkes,. this might have done with me had he anv thing he could have told vou PAMELA. 121 Mrs. Jewkes writes to Pamela's Master. of. But you know well enough, that had we been disposed, we had no opportunity for it, from your watchful care and circumspection." " No," said she, "that's very true, Mrs. Pamela; not so much as for that de- claration that he owned before me had found opportunity to make for all my watchfulness. Come, come," said she, " no more of these shams with me '. 'You have an excellent head-piece for your years : but may be I am as cunning as you. However," said she, " all is well now ; because my watchments ar* now over, by my master's directions. How have you employed yourself in my absence ?" I was so troubled at what might have passed between Mr. Williams and her, that I could not hide it ; and she said, "Well, Mrs. Pamela, since all matters are likely to be so soon and so happily ended, let me advise you to be a little less concerned at his discoveries ; and make me your confidant, as he has done, and I shall think you have some regard for me, and reliance upon me ; and perhaps you might not repent it." She was so earnest, that I mistrusted she did this to pump me : I knew how to account for her kindness to Mr. Williams in her visit to him ; which was only to get oift of him, what she could. " Why, Mrs. Jew~kes," said I, "is all this fishing about for something, where there is nothing, if there is now an end to your watchments, as you call them ?" " Nothing," said she, " but womanish curiosity, I'll assure you ; for one is naturally led to find out matters, where there is such privacy intended." " Well," said I, " pray let me know what he has said , and then I'll give you an answer to your curiosity." " I don't care," said she, " whether you do or not ; for I have as much as I wanted from him ; and I despair of get- ting out of you any thing you ha'n't a mind 1 should know, my little cunning dear." " Well," said I, " let him have said what he would, I care not : for I am sure he can say no harm of me ; and so let us change the talk." I was the easier, because, for all her pumps, she gave no hints of the key and the door, &c. which, had he communicated to her, she would not have forborne giving me a touch of. So we gave up one another, as despairing to gain onr ends. But 1 am sure he must have said more than he should. And I am the more apprehensive all is not right, because f he has been , actually, these two hours, shut up a writing; though she pretended she had given me up all her stores of papers, &e. and that I should write for her. 1 begin to wish I had ventured every thing, and gone off, when I might. Oh, when will this state of doubt and uneasiness end ! She has just been with me, and says she shall send a messenger to Bed- fordshire ; and he shall carry a letter of thanks for me, if I will write it, for my master's favour to me. " Indeed," said I, " I have no thanks to 122 PAMELA. Mr. Williams visits Pamela again. give, till I am with ray father and mother : and besides, I sent a letter, as you know, but have had no answer to it." She said, she thought that his letter to Mr. Williams was sufficient, and the least 1 could do was to thank him. " No need of it," said I, **, for I don't intend to have Mr. Williams : what then is that letter to me ?" " Well," said she, " I see thou art quite unfathomable !" I don't like this. Oh, my foolish fears of bulls and robbers ! For now all my uneasiness begins to double upon me. Ob, what has this incautious man said ! it, no doubt is the subject of her long letter. I will close this day's writing, with just saying, that she is very silent and reserved to what she was ; and says nothing but " No," or " Yes," to what I ask. Something must be hatching, I doubt! I rather think so, because I find she does not keep her word with me, about sleeping by myself, and my money ; to both which points she returned suspicious answers, saying as to the oje, " Why, you are very earnest for your money ; I shan't run away with it." And to the other, *' Good lack ! you need not be so willing, as I know of, to part with me for a bed-fellow, till you are sure of one you like better." This cut me to the heart ! And, at the same time, stopped my mouth. TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY. Mr. Williams has been-here, but we have had no opportunity to talk together : he seemed confounded at Mrs. Jewkes's ciiange of temper and reservedness, after her kind visit, and their freedom with one another, and much more at what I am going to tell you. He asked if I would take a turn in the garden with Mrs. Jewkes and him. " No," said she, " I can't go." Said he, " May not Mrs. Pamela take a walk ?" " No," said she, " I desire she won't."" Why, Mrs. Jewkes," said he, " I am afraid I have disobliged you."" Not at all," replied she : " but I suppose you will soon be at liberty to walk together as much as you please : I have sent a messenger for my last instructions, about this and more weighty matters ; when they come, I shall leave you to do as you both will ; but, till then, it is no matter how little you are together." This alarmed us both : and he seemed quite struck of a heap ; and put on, as I thought, a self-accusing countenance. So I went behind her back, and held my two hands together, fiat, with a bit of paper I had between them, and looked at him : he seemed to take me as I intended ; intimating the renewing of the correspondence by the tiles. I left them both together, and retired to my closet, to write a letter for the tiles ; but having no time for a copy, I will give the substance only. I expostulated with him on his too great openness and easiness to fall iKto Mrs, Jewkes's snares ; told him my apprehensions of foul play; and PAMELA. 128 Letler from Mr. Williams to Pamela. gave briefly the reasons which moved me : begged to know what he had said, and intimated that I thought there was the highest reason to re- sume our project of escape by the back-door. I put this in the usual place in the evening, and now wait with impatience for an answer. , THURSDAY. I have the following answer : " DEAR MADAM, " I am utterly confounded, and must plead guilty to all your just re- proaches. I wish I were master of but half your caution and discretion ! I hope, after all, this is only a touch of this ill woman's temper, to shew her power and importance : for I think Mr. B. neither can, nor dare de- ceive me in so black a manner. I would expose him all the world over, if he did. But it is not, cannot be in him. I have received a letter from John Arnold, in which he tells me, that his master is preparing for his London journey ; and believes, afterwards, he will come into these parts ; but he says, Lady Davers is at their house, and is to accompany her brother to London, or meet him there. He professes great zeal and affection to your service : and I find he refers to a letter he sent me before, but which is not come to my hand. I think there can Ue no treach- ery ; for it is a particular friend at Gainsborough that I have ordered him to direct to : and this is come safe to my hands by this means ; for well I know, I durst trust nothing to Brett, at the post-house here. This gives me a little pain ; but I hope all will end well, and we shall soon hear, if it be necessary to pursue our former intentions. If it be, I will lose no time to provide a horse for you, and another for myself: for I can never do either God or myself a better service, though I were to forego all my expectations for it here. I am your most faithful humble servant. " I was too free with Mrs. Jewkes ; I was led to it by her dissimulation, and by her pretended concern to make me happy with you. I hinted that I would not have scrupled to have procured your deliverance by any means ; and that I had proposed to you, as the only honourable one, marriage with me. But 1 1 assured her, though she would hardly believe me, that you discouraged my application, which is too true ! But not s word of the back-door, key, &c." Mrs. Jewkes continues still sullen and ill-natured, and I am almost afraid to speak to her. She watches me as close as ever, and pretends to wonder why I shun her company as I do. I have just put under the tiles these lines, inspired by my fears, which are, indeed, very strong ; and, I doubt, not without reason. 124 PAMELA. Letter to Mr. Williams from Pamela. " SIR, ' Every thing gives me additional disturbances. The missed letter of John Arnold's makes me suspect a plot. Yet 1 am loath to think myself of so much importance, as to suppose every one in a plot against me. Are you sure, however, the London journey is not to be a Lincolnshire one ? May not John, who has been once a traitor, be so again ? Why need I be thus in doubt ? If I could have this horse, I would turn the reins on his neck, and trust to Providence to guide him for my safeguard! For I would not endanger you, now just upon the edge of your preferment Yet, Sir, 1 fear your fatal openness will make you suspected as accessary, let us be ever so cautious. " Were my life in question, instead of my honesty, I would not wish to involve you, or any body, in the least difficulty, for so worthless a- poor creature. But, O Sir ! my soul is of equal importance with the soul of a princess, though my quality is inferior to that of the meanest slave. " Save, then, my innocence good Heaven ! and preserve my mind spotless : and happy shalll be to lay down my worthless life, and see an end to all my troubles and anxieties. " Forgive my impatience : but my presaging mind bodes horrid mis- chiefs ! Every thing looks dark around me : and this woman's impe- netrable sullenness and silence, without any apparent reason, from a conduct so very contrary, bid me fear the worst. Blame me, Sir, if you think me wrong; and let me have your advice what to do; which will oblige your most afflicted servant." FRIDAY. I have this half-angry answer ; but, what is more to me than all the letters in the world could be, your's, my dear father, inclosed. ' MAUAM, " I think you are Coo apprehensive by much ; I am sorry for your uneasi- ness. You may depend upon me, and all I can do. But I make no doubt of the London journey, nor of John's contrition and fidelity. I have just received, from my Gainsborough friend, this letter, as I suppose, from your good father, in a cover directed for me, as I had desired. I hope it contains nothing to add to your uneasiness. Pray, dearest Madam, lay aside your fears, and wait a few days for the issue of Mrs. Jewkes's letter, and mine of thanks to Mr. B. Things, I hope, must be better than you expect. Providence will not desert such piety and innocence ; and be this your comfort and reliance : which is the best advice that can be given by your most faithful humble servant." The father's letter was as follows : PAMELA. 125 Letter to Pamela from her Parents. " MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, " Our prayers are at length heard, and we are overwhelmed with joy. Oh, what sufferings, what trials, hast thou gone through ! Blessed be the Divine Goodness, which has enabled thee to withstand so many tempta- tions ! We have not yet had leisure to read through your long accounts of all your hardships. I say long, because 1 wonder how you could find time and opportunity for them ; but otherwise they are the delight of our spare hours : we shall read them over and over, as long as we live, with thankfulness to God, who has given us so virtuous and so discreet a daughter. How happy is our lot, in the midst of our poverty ! Oh, let none ever think children a burden to them ; when the poorest circum- stances can produce so much riches in a Pamela '. Persist, my dear datighter, in the same excellent course ; and we shall not envy the highest estate, but defy them to produce such a daughter as ours. " I said we had not read through all yours. We are too impatient, so turned to the end ; where we find your virtue within view of its reward, and your master's heart turned to see the folly of his ways, and the injury he had intended to our dear child : for he would have ruined you if he could. But, seeing your virtue, his heart is touched, and he has, no doubt, been awakened by your good example. " We don't see that you can do any way so well, as to come into the present proposal, and make Mr. Williams, the worthy Mr. Williams ! God bless him ! happy. And though we are poor, and can add no merit, reputation, or fortune, to our dear child, but rather must be a disgrace to her, as the world will think : yet I hope I do not sin in my pride, to say, that there is no good man, of a common degree, but may think himself happy in you. But, as you say you had rather not marry at present, far be it from us to offer violence to your inclination '. So much prudence as you have shewn in all your conduct, would make it very wrong in us to mistrust it in this, or to offer to direct you in your choice. But, alas '. my child, what can we do for you ? To partake our hard lot, and t involve yourself into as hard a life, would not help us; but add to our afflictions. It will be time enough to talk of these things, when we have the pleasure you now put us in hope of, of seeing you with us ; which God grant. Amen, Amen, say your most indulgent parents, Amen ! " Our humble service and thanks to the worthy Mr. Williams. " Oh, what a deal we have to say to you ! God give us a happy meet- ing ! We understand the sciuire is setting out for London. He is a fine gentleman, and has wit at will, I wish he was as good. But I hope he will now reform." 126 PAMELA. A Servant arrives from Pamela's Master. I Oh, what inexpressible comfort, my dear father, has your letter given me! You ask, what can you do for me ! What is it you cannot, do for your child! You can give her the advice she has so much wanted and still wants, and will always want: you can confirm her in the paths of virtue, into which you first initiated her ; and you can pray for her with hearts so sincere and pure, that are not to be met with in palaces ! Oh ! how I long to throw myself, at your feet, and receive the blessings of such good parents ! But, alas ! how are my prospects again overclouded, to what they were when I closed my last parcel ! More trials, more dan- gers, I fear, must your poor Pamela be engaged in ; but, through the Divine Goodness, and your prayers, I hope, at last, to get well out of all my difficulties ; as they are not the effect of my vanity or presumption. But I will proceed with my hopeless story. I saw Mr. Williams was a little nettled at my impatience ; so I wrote to assure him I would be as easy as I could, and wholly directed by him ; especially as my father, whose respects 1 mentioned, had assured me my master was setting out for London, which he must have known, or he would not have written me word of it. SATURDAY, SUNDAY. Mr. Williams has been here both these days, as usual ; but is very indifferently received by Mrs. Jewkes ; and, to avoid suspicion, I left them together, and went up to my closet most of the time he was here. They had a quarrel, and she seems quite out of humour with him ; but I thought it best not to say any thing ; and he said he would seldom trou- ble the house, till he had an answer to his letter from Mr. B. " The less the better," she replied. Poor man ! he has got but little by his open- ness and making Mrs. Jewkes his confidant. I am mere and more satisfied there is mischief brewing ; I shall begin to hide my papers, and be circumspect. She seems impatient for an answer to her letter to my master. MONDAY, TUESDAY, THE 25th AND 26th DAYS OF MY HEAVY RESTRAINT. Still more and more strange things to write ! A messenger is returned, and now all is out! O wretched, wretched Pamela! what at last will become of me ! Such strange turns and trials sure never poor creature of my years experienced. He brought two letters, one to Mrs. Jewkes, and one to me : but as the greatest wits may be sometimes mistaken, they being folded and sealed alike, that for me was directed to Mr6. Jewkes, and that for her was directed to me. But both are abominably bad ! She brought me up that directed for me, and said, " Here's a letter for you : long looked for is come at last. I will ask the messenger a few O PAMELA. 127 Pamela's Master's Letter to Mrs. Jewkes. questions, and then I will read mine." So she went, down, and I broke it open in my closet, and found it directed " To Mrs. Pamela Andrews." But when I opened it, it began, " Mrs. Jewkes." I was quite confounded ; *' But," thought I, " this may be a lucky mistake ; I may discover some- thing." So I read on these horrid contents : " MRS. JEWKES, " What you write me has given me no small disturbance. This wretched fool's flat/thing, no doubt, is ready to leap at any thing that offers, rather than express the least sense of gratitude for all the benefits she has received from my family, and which I was determined more and more to heap upon her. I reserve her for my future resentment ; 1 charge you double your diligence in watching her, to prevent her escape. I send this by an honest Swiss, who attended me in my travels, a man I can trust: and so let him be your assistant ; for the artful creature is enough to corrupt a nation by her seeming innocence and simplicity ; and she may have got a party, perhaps, among my servants with you, as she hag here. Even John Arnold, whom I confided in, ami favoured more than any, has proved an execrable villain, and shall meet his reward for it. " As to that college novice, Williams, I need not bid you take care he sees not this painted bauble ; for I have ordered Mr. Shorter, my attorney, to throw him instantly into jail, on an action of debt, for money he has had of me, which I had intended never to carry to account against him ; for I know all his rascally practices, besides what you write me of his perfidious intrigue with that girl, and his acknowledged contrivance for her escape, when he knew not that I designed her any mischief; and when, if he had been guided by a sense of piety, or compassion for in- jured innocence, as he pretends, he would have expostulated with me, as his function, and my friendship for him, might have allowed him. But to enter into a vile intrigue with the amiable gewgaw, to favour her escape in so base a manner (to say nothing of his disgraceful practices against me in Sir Simon Darnford's family, of which Sir Simon has informed me) is a conduct, that, instead of promoting the ungrateful wretch, as I in- tended, shall pull down upon him utter ruin. Monsieur Colbrand, my trusty Swiss, will obey you without reserve, should my other servants refuse. As for her denying that she encouraged his declaration, T believe it not. "Tis certain the speaking picture, with all that pretended inno- cence and bashfulness, would have run away with him. Yes, she would have run away with a fellow that she ha 1 been acquainted with but a few days : at a time when she had the strongest assurances of my honour to her. " I think I now hate her perfectly ; and, though I will do nothing to har myself, yet I can bear, for the sake " to my afflictions ! 1 shall soon be out of all your ways ! This is too much ! ( never can support this " and threw myself upon the couch, in my closet, and wept most bitterly. She read it in the next room, and came in again afterwards. "Why this," said she, " is a sad letter indeed; I am sorry for it; but I feared you would carry your niceties too far?" " Leave me, Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " for a while ; I cannot speak nor talk." "Poor heart !" said she ; " well, 1*11 come up again presently, and hope to find you better. But here, take your own letter ; I wish you well : but this is a sad mistake I" So she put down the letter which was intended for me : but I have no spirit to read it at present. " O man ! hard hearted, cruel man ; what mischiefs art thou not capable of, unrelenting persecutor as thou art!" I sat ruminating, when I had a little come to myself, upon the terms of this wicked letter: and had no inclination to look into my own. The bad names, fool's plot/thing, artful creature, painted bauble, gewgaw, speaking picture, are hard words for your poor Pamela ; and I began to think whether I was not a very naughty body, and had not done vile things . but when I thought of his having, discovered poor John, and of Sir Simon's base officiousness, in tejling him of Mr. Williams, with what he had resolved against him', in revenge for his goodness to me, I was quite dispirited ; and yet still more, about that fearful Colbrand, and what he could see done to me ; for then I was ready to gasp for breath, and my heart quite failed me. Then how dreadful are th words he will decide my fate in three weeks ! " Gracious heaven !" said I, ".strike me dead before that time with a thunderbolt, or provide some way for my escaping these threatened mischiefs'." At last I took up the letter directed for Mrs. Ji-wkes, but designed for PAMELA. 129 A Letter to Pamela from her Master. me ; and I find that little better than the other. These are the hard terms it contains : " Well have you done, perverse, forward, artful, yet foolish Pamela, to convince me, before it is too late, how ill I had done to place my affections on so unworthy an object : 1 had vowed honour and love to your unwcr- thiness, believing you a mirror of bashful modesty and unspotted inno- cence ; and that no perfidious designs lurked in so fair a bosom. But now I have found you out, you specious hypocrite ! and see, that though you could not repose the least confidence in one you had known for years, and who, under my good mother's misplaced favours for you, had grown up in a manner with you ; when my passion, in spite of niy pride, and the difference of our condition, made me stoop~to a meanness that now I despise myself for ; yet you could enter into an intrigue with a man you never knew till within these few days past, and resolve to run away with a stranger, whom your fair face and insinuating arts had bewitched to break through all the ties of honour and gratitude to me, even at a time when the happiness of his future life depended upon my favour. " Henceforth, for Pamela's sake, whenever I see a lovely face, will I mistrust a deceitful heart : and whenever I hear of the greatest pre- tences to innocence, will 1 suspect some deep laid mischief. You were determined to place no confidence in me, though I have solemnly en- gaged my honour to you. What, though I had alarmed your fears by sending you one way when you hoped to go another ; yet, had I not, to convince you of my resolution to do justly by you, engaged not to come near you without your consent ? Was not this a voluntary demon- stration of the generosity of my intention to you ? Yet how have you requited me ? The very first fellow that your charming face and insinuat- ing address could influence, you have practised upon, corrupted too, I may say (and even ruined, as the ungrateful wretch shall find) and thrown your- forward self upon him. As, therefore, you would place no confi- dence in me, my honour owes you nothing: and in a little time you shall tind how much you have erred, in treating as you have done a man who was once your affectionate and kind J'r lend. *' Mrs. Jewkes has directions concerning you : if your lot is now harder than you might wish, you will bear it the easier, because your own rash tolly has brought it upon you." Alas, for me ! what fate is mine, to be thus thought artful, forward, and ungrateful ! when all I intended was to preserve my innocence ; and all my poor little shifts, which his superior wit and cunning have rendered ineffectual, were forced upon me in my own necessary defence. When Mrs. Jewkes came up to me again, she found me bathed in tears. 6 5 t 130 PAMELA. Pamela's Giief^at her Master's Threatenjngs against Mr. Williams. She seemed, as I thought, to be moved by compassion. Finding myself now entirely in her power, and that it was not for me to provoke her, I said, " It is uow, I see, in vain for me to contend against my evil destiny, and the superior arts of my barbarous master. I will resign myself to the Divine Will, and prepare to expect the worst. But you see how poor Mr. Williams is drawn in and undone ; I am sorry I am made the cause of his ruin : Poor, poor man ! to be thus involved, for my sake ! But if you'll believe me," said J, " I gave no encouragement to what he proposed, as to marriage ; nor would he have proposed it, I believe, but as the only honourable way be thought was left to save me ; his principal motive .was virtue and compassion to one in distress. What other view could he have ? You know I am poor and friendless. All I beg of you is, to let the poor gentleman have notice of my master's resentment, and let him fly the country, and not be thrown into jail. This will answer my master's end as well ; for it will as effectually hinder him from assisting me, as if he was in a prison." " Ask me," said she, " to do any thing that is in my power, consistent with my duty and trust, I will do it. I am sorry for you both ; but I shall keep no correspondence with him, nor let you." I offered to talk of a duty superior to that she mentioned, which would oblige her to help distressed innocence, and not permit her to go the length enjoined by lawless tyranny ; but she plainly bid me be silent on that head ; for it was in vain to attempt to persuade her to betray her trust : " All I have to advise you," said she, " is to be easy ; lay aside all your contrivances and arts to get away ; make me your friend, by giving me no reason to suspect you ; for I glory in my fidelity to my master : you have both prac- tised some strange sly arts, to make such a progress as he owned there was between you. 1 must be more circumspect th in I have been." This doubled my concern, for I now apprehended I should be much closer watched than before. . " Well," said I, " since I have by this strange accident, discovered my hard destiny, let me read over again that fearful letter of your's, that I may get it by heart, and with it feed my distress, and make calamity familiar to inc." " Then," said she, " let me read your's again." I gave her mine, and she lent me her'.s; I took a copy of it, with her leave because I would prepare myself for the worst. And when I had done, I pinned it on the head of the couch : " This," said I, " is the use I shall make of this wretched copy of your letter; ami here you shall always find it wet with my tears." She said she would go down to order supper, and insisted upon my company. I would have excused myself; but she put on a commanding air, that I durst not oppose. When I went down, she took me bv the f/ r fh,W n*nf.,.l .! Tijft/iift.rf fir 7iarrtct/- & M>nman.J874 PAMELA. 131 Pamela's Description of Monsieur Colbrand. hand, and presented me to tbe_mn=t. hideous monster I ever saw in my life. *' Here, Monsie ur Colbrand." said she; " here is your pretty ward and mine ; let us try to make her time with us easy." He bowed, put on his foreign grimaces, and, in broken English, told me, " 1 was happy in de affections of de vinest gentleman in de varld '." I was quite frightened, and ready to drop down ; I will describe him to you, my dear father and mother, and you shall judge if I had not reason to be alarmed, as I was apprised of his hated employment, to watch me closer. He is a giant of a man for stature ; taller by a good deal than Harry .iitiHim^Uj fit >uui iiti^irjuuniuuuj auu idigc uimjcu, 3Lia^^, anu n.i- <\ hand ! I "never saw such an one in my life. He has great staring eyes, like the bull's that frightened me so ; vast jawbones sticking out ; eye- brows hanging over his eyes ; two great scars upon his forehead, and one on his left check ; two large whiskers, and a monstrous wide mouth ; blubber lips, long yellow teeth, and a hideous grin. He wears bis own frightful long hair, tied up in a great llack bag ; a black crape neckcloth, about a long ugly neck ; and his throat sticking out like a wen. As to the rest, he was dressed well enough, and had a sword on, with a nasty red knot to it ; leather gaiters, buckled below his knees ; and a foot near as long as my arm, I verily think. He said, he fright dc lady, and offered to withdraw ; but she bid him not. I told Mrs. Jewkes, that, as she knew I had been crying, she should not have. called me to the gentleman, without letting me know he was there. I soon went up to my closet, for my heart ached all the time I was at table, not being able to look upon him without horror ; and this brute of a woman, though she saw my distress, before this addition to it, no doubt did it on purpose to strike more terror into me. And indeed it had its effect ; for when I went to bed I could think of nothing but this hideous person, and my master's more hideous actions ; and thought them well paired. When I dropped asleep, I dreamed they were both coming to my bed-side, with the worSt designs: 1 jumped out of my bed in my sleep, and frighted Mrs. Jewkes, till, waking with the terror, I told her my dream. The wicked creature only laughed, and said, all I feared was but a dream, as well as that. AND NOW I AM COME TO THE CLOSE OF WEDNESDAY, THE 27th DAY OF MY DISTRESS. 1'ooR Mr. Williams is actually arrested, and carried away to Stamford ; so there is an end of all my hopes from him. Poor gentleman ! his over ecurity and openness have ruined us both. 1 was but too well convinced that w; ought not to hav lost a moment's time: he was angry, and thought me too impatient. The detestable artifices of my master induced L 2 132 PAMELA. Pamela's Stratagem to escape. me to think, that he who had so cunningly, and so wickedly, contrived all his stratagems, so that it was impossible to avoid them, would stick at nothing to complete them. I fear I shall soon find it so. But one stratagem I have just invented, though a very discouraging one to think of, because I have neither friends nor money, nor know one step of the way. But let bulls, bears, lions, tigers, and what is wo.rse, false, treacherous, deceitful men, stand in my way, I cannot be more in danger than I am ; I depend nothing upon his three weeks : for how do I know, now he is in such a passion, and has already begun his vengeance on poor Mr. Williams, that he will not change his mind, and come down to Lincolnshire before he goes to London ? My stratagem is this : I will endeavour to get Mrs. Jewkes to go to bed without me, as she often does, while I sit locked up in my closet ; and as she sleeps very sound in her first sleep, of which she never fails to give notice, by snoring, if I can but then get out between the two bars of the window (for you know I am very slender) then I can drop upon the leads underneath, which are little more than my height, and which leads are over a little summer parlour, that jets out towards the garden ; as I am light I can easily drop from them ; for they are not high from the ground : then I shall be in the garden : and as I have the key of the back door, I will get out. But I bav another piece of cunning still ; good Heaven succeed to me my dangerous, though innocent devices! 1 have read of a great captain, who, being in danger, leaped overboard into the sea; and his enemies, as he swam, shooting at him with bows and arrows, he un- loosed his upper garment, and took another course ; by this means, while they stuck that with their darts and arrows, he escaped, and lived to triumph over them all. So I will strip off my upper petticoat, throw it into the pond, with my neck handkerchief! When they miss me, they will go to the pond first, thinking I have drowned myself: and when they see some of my clothes floating there, they will be all employed in drag- ging the pond, which is a very large one ; and as I shall not, perhaps, be missed till the morning, this will give me opportunity to get a great way off ; and I am sure I will run for it, when I am out. So I trust that Pro- vidence will direct my steps to some good place of safety, and make some worthy body my friend ; for if I suffer ever so, I cannot be in more dan- geT, nor in worse hands, than where I am ; and with such avowed bad designs. O my dear parents ! don't be frightened when you come to read this ! But all will be over before you can see it ; and so God direct me for the best ! My writings, for fear I should not escape, I will bury in the gar- den ; for no doubt 1 shall be searched, and used dreadfully, if I can't get off. So I will close here, for the present, to prepare for my plot.- Pros- /*3 PAMELA. 138 Pamela's Relation of her Attempt to escape. per thou, O gracious Protector of oppressed innocence I this last effort of thy poor handmaid ! that I may escape the crafty devices and snares to rob me of my virtue ! but by this one trial only, I see no way of escaping ! Whatever becomes of me, bless my dear parents, and protect poor Mr. Williams from ruin ! for he was happy before he knew me. Just now I heard Mrs. Jewkes, who is in her cups, own to the horrid Colbrand, that the robbing of poor Mr. Williams was a contrivance oi her's and executed by the groom and a helper, in order to seize my let- ters, which they missed. They are now both laughing at the dismal story, which they little think I overheard. Oh, how my heart aches ! what are not such wretches capable of ! can you blame me for endeavouring to get out of such clutches ! PAST ELEVEN O'CLOCK. Mrs. Jf.wkes is come up, and gone to bed ; and bids me not stay long in my closet, but come to bed. Oh, for a dead sleep for the treacherous brute ! I never saw her so tipsy ; that gives me hopes. 1 have tried again, and find I can get my head through the iron bars. I am now all pre- pared, as soon as I hear her fast ; and now I'll seal up these, and my other papers, my last work : and to thy Providence, O my gracious God, commit the rest ! Once more, God bless you both ! and send us a happy meeting ; if not here, in his heavenly kingdom. Amen. THURSDAY, FRIDAY, SATURDAY, SUNDAY, TI1F. 28th, 29th, 30th, AND 3 1 it DAYS OF MY DISTRESS. And distress indeed ; for here I am still ; and every thing has been worse and worse ! O the poor unhappy Pamela ! Without any hope left, and ruined in all my contrivances. But, O my dear parents, re- joice with me, even in this low plunge of my distress ; for your poor Pamela lias escaped from an enemy worse than any she ever met with ; an eneww she never thought of before, and was hardly able to stand against ; I mean the weakness and presumption of her own mind; which had well nigh, had not the Divine Grace interposed, sunk her into the lowe-t. last, abyss of misery and penlition '. 1 will proceed, as I have opportunity, with my sad relation; for my pen is all I have to employ myself with : and I have been so weak, that, till yesterday evening, I have not been able to hold a pen. I took with me but one shift, two handkerchiefs, and two caps, which my pocket held (for it was not for me to encumber myself) and all my Stock of money, which was hut five or six shillings, to set out for I knew not where : and got out of the window, not without some difficulty ; but I was resolved to get out if possible. It was farther from the leads than I thought. I was afraid I had sprained my ancle ; and when I l 3 134 PAMELA. Pamela bruised by the falling of the Wall. had dropped, it was still farther oft' from the leads to the ground : but I did pretty well there ; at least, I got no hurt to hinder me from pur- suing my intentions. So being now on the ground, I hid my papers under a rose bush, and covered them with mould, and there they still lie, as I hope. Then I went away to the pond : the clock struck twelve just as I got out ; it was a dark misty night, and very cold ; hut I felt it not then. -When I came to the pond side, I flung in my upper coat, as I had de- signed, my neck handkerchief, and a round-eared cap, with a knot ; and then, with great speed, ran to the door, and took the key out of my pocket, my heart beating all the time against my bosom, as if it would have forced its way through it. I found that I was most miserably disap- pointed ; for the wicked woman had taken off that lock, and put another on ; so that my key would not open it. I tried in vain, and feeling about, I found a padlock besides, on another part of the door. Oh, then how my heart sunk ! I dropt down with grief and confusion, unahle to stir or sup- port myself, for a while. But my fears awakening my resolution, and knowing that my attempt would be as terrible for me as any other danger I could then encounter, I clambered up upon the ledges of the door, and upon the lock, which was a great wooden onrf, and reached the top of the door with my hands ; then, little thinking I could climb so well, 1. .nade shift to hold on the top of the wall with my hands ; but, alas for me ! no- thing but ill luck ! no escape for poor Pamela ! The wall being old, the bricks I held by gave way, just as I was taking a spring to get up; down came I, and received such a blow upon my head, with one of the bricks, that it quite stunned me ; I broke my shins and ancle besides, and beat off the heel of one of my shoes. In this dreadful way, fiat upon the ground, lay poor I, for I believe five or six minutes; and then trying to get up, I sunk down again two or three times ; and my left hip and shoulder were very stiff, and full of pain, with bruises ; besides, my head bled, and ached grievously, with the blow I had with the brick. Yet these hurts I valued not ; but crept a god way, upon my feet and hands, in search of a ladder, I just recollected to have seen against the wall two days before, on which the gardener was nailing a nec- tarine branch, but no ladder could I find, and the wall was very high. "What now," thought I, "must become of the miserable Pamela'." Then I began to wish myself most heartily again in my closet, and to re- pent of my attempt, which I now censured as rash, because it did not succeed. A ?ad thought came just then into my head ! I tremble to think of it ! My apprehensions of the usage I should meet with, had like to have mad PAMELA. 135 Pamela'! Temptations to drown herself. me miserable for ever ! O my dear, dear parents, forgive your poor child; hut being quite desperate, I crept along, till I could raise myself on my staggering feet ; and away limped I ! What to do, hut to throw myself into the pond, and put a period to all my griefs in this world ! But, oh ! to find them infinitely aggravated (had I not, by the Divine Grace, been withheld) in a miserable eternity! As I have escaped this temptation (blessed be God for it!) I will tell you my conflicts on this dreadful occa- sion, that the Divine Mercies may be magnified in my deliverance, that I am yet on this side the dreadful gulf, from which there could have been no return. It was well for me as I have since thought, that I was so maimed, which made me the longer before I got to the water ; this gave me time to con- sider, and abated the impetuosity of my passions, which possibly might otherwise have hurried me, in my first transport of grief (on my seeing no way to escape, and the hard usage 1 had reason to expect from my dreadful keepers) to throw myself in. But my weakness of body made roe move so slowly, that it gave time for reflection, and for a ray of grace tt; dart upon my benighted mind. When I came to the pond side, I sat down on the sloping bank, and begau to ponder my wretched condition; and thus I reasoned with myself: " Pause here a little, Pamela, on what thou art about, before thou tak- est the dreadful leap ; and consider whether there be no way yet left, no hope, if not to escape from this wicked house, yet from the mischief threatened thee in it." I then considered ; and, after I had east about in my mind every thing that could make me hope, and saw no probability ; a wicked woman devoid of compassion ! a horrid helper, just arrived in this dreadful Colbrand ! an angrj and resenting master, who now hated me, and threatened the most afflicting evils! and that I should, in all probabi- lity, be deprived of the opportunity I now had before me, to free myself from their persecutions ! " VViiat hast thou to do, distressed creature," said I to myself, " but throw thyself upon a merciful God (who knows how innocently I sutfer) to avoid the merciless wickedness of those who are d-e- termined on thy ruin ?" And then, thought I (oh! that thought was surely of the devil's instigation ; for it was very soothing and powerful with me) " These wicked wretches, who now have no remorse, no pity on me, will then be moved to lament their misdoings; and when they see the dead corpse of the unhappy Pamela dragged out of these dewy banks, lying breathless at their f'jet, thc-y will find tii.it remorse to soften their obdurate hearts, which now has no place there! My master, my angry master, will He a forget his resentments, and say, ' Ob, this is the unhappy Pamela! that I have so causelessly persecuted and destroyed. Now do I see she preferred her honesty to her life,' will he say, ' and is no hypocrite nor deceiver ; 1.4 13C PAMELA. Pamela reasons agninst and overcomes but was the innocent creature she pretended to be '.' Then," thought I, " will he, perhaps, shed a few tears over the poor corpse of his persecuted servant; and, though he may give out it was love and disappointment, in order to hide his own guilt, for the unfortunate Mr. Williams; yet will he be* inwardly grieved, and order me a decent funeral, and save me from the dreadful stake, and the highway interment ; the young men and maidens all around my poor father's will pity poor Pamela ! But, oh ! I hope I shall not be the subject of their ballads and elegies : but that my memory, for the sake of my dear father and mother, may quickly slide into oblivion." I was once rising, so indulgent was I to this sad way of thinking, to throw myself in ; but my bruises made me slow, and I thought, " What art thou about to do, wretched Pamela! How knowest thou, though the prospect be all dark to thy short-sighted eye, what God may do for thee, , even vvhen all human means fail? God Almighty would not lay me under these sore afflictions, if he had not given me strength to grapple with j them, if I will exert it as I ought : and who knows but that the presence I so very much dread of my angry and designing master, may be better for me than these persecuting emissaries of his, who, for his money, are true to their wicked trust, and are hardened by a long habit of wickedness against compunction of heart ? God can touch bis heart in an instant ; and if this should not be done, I can then put an end to my life by some other means, if I am so resolved. How do I know but these bruises and maims that I have received, while I pursued the escape I had meditated, may not have furnished myself with the opportunity to precipitate myself, and of surrendering up my life, spotless, and unguilty, to that Merciful Being who gave it. " Then," thought J, " who gave thee, presumptuous as thou art, a power over thy life ? Who authorised thee to put an end to it, when the weakness of thy mind suggests not to thee a way to preserve it with honour ? How knowest thou what purpose God may have to serve, by the trials with which thou art now exercised ? Art thou to put a bound to the Divine Will, and to say, "Thus much will I bear, and no more ?" And wilt thou dare to say, that if the trial be augmented, and continued, thou wilt sooner die than bear it?" 'Y. " This act of despondency," thought I, " is a sin, that, if I pursue, ad- mits no repentance, and can therefore hope no forgiveness. And wilt thou, to shorten thy transitory griefs, heavy as they ate, and weak as thou fanci- est thyself, plunge both body and soul into everlasting misery ? Hitherto," thought I, " thou art the innocent, the suffering Pamela; and wilt thou, to avoid thy sufferings, lie the guilty aggressor ? And, because wicked men persecute thee, wilt thou fly in the face of the Almighty, and distrust his grace, and goodness, who can still turn all these sufferings into benefits? And how do I know but that God, who sees all the lurking vileness of my PAMELA/ 137 her Intention of destroying herself. heart, may have permitted these sufferings on that very score, and to make me rely solely on his grace and assistance, who, perhaps, have too much prided myself in a vain dependence on my own foolish contri- vances ? 14 Then, again," thought I, " wilt thou suffer in one moment all the good lessons of thy poor honest parents, and the benefits of their example (who have persisted in doing their duty with resignation to the Divine Will, amidst the extreme degrees of disappointment, poverty, and distress, and the persecutions of an ungrateful world and merciless creditors) to be thrown away upon thee ; and bring down, as in all probability this thy rashness will, their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, when they shall understand, that their beloved daughter, slighting the tenders of Divine Grace, despairing of the mercies of a protecting God, has blemished, in this last act, a whole life which they had hitherto approved and de- lighted in ? "What, then, presumptuous Pamela, dost thou here?" thought l- " quit with speed these perilous banks, and fly from these curling waters, that seem, in their meaning murmurs, to reproach thy rashness ! Tempt not God's goodness on the mossy banks, that have been witnesses of thy guilty purpose; and while thou hast power left thee, avoid the tempting evil, lest thy grand enemy, now repulsed by Divine Grace, and due reflec- tion, return to the assault with a force that thy weakness may not he able to resist! and let one rash moment destroy all the convictions which now have awed thy rebellious mind into duty and resignation to the Divine Will!" And so saying, 1 arose ; but was so stiff with my hurts, so cold with the moist dews of the night, and the wet grass on which I had sat, as also with the damps arising from so large a piece of water, that with great pain I got from this pond, which now I think of with terror ; and bending my limping steps toward the house, took refuge in the corner of an out-house^ where wood and coals are laid up for family use, till I should be found by my cruel keepers, and consigned to a more wretched confinement, and worse usage, than I had hitherto experienced! And there behind a pile of fire-wood I crept, and lay down, as you may imagine, with a mind > list broken, and a heart sensible to nothing but the extremest woe and ''.\> ctiun. This my dearfather and mother, is the issue of your poor Pamela's fruit- less enterprise ; and who knows, if I bad got out at the back-dour, whe- ther I had been at all in a better case, moneyless, friendless, as I am, and in a strange place ! But blame not your poor daughter too much : nay, if ever you see this miserable scribble, all bathed and blotted with my tears, let your pity get the better of your reprehension, liut I know it will. Ami 138 PAMELA. Alatm on missing Pamela. I must leave off for the present. For, oh ! my strength and my will are at this time very far unequal to one another. But yet I will add, that though I should have praised God for my deliverance, had I been freed from my wicked keepers, and my designing master, yet I have more abundant rea- son to praise him, that I have been delivered from a worse enemy, myself. I will conclude my sad relation. It seems Mrs. Jewkes awaked not till day-break ; and not finding me in bed, she called me ; and, no answer being returned, she relates, that she got out of bed, ran to my closet; and, missing me, searched under the bed, and in another closet, finding the chamber-door, as she had left it, quite fast, and the key, as usual, about her wrist. For if I could have got out of the chamber-door, there were two or three passages and doors to them all, double locked and barred, to go through into the great garden : so that, to escape, there was no way but out of the window 1 had passed, because the other windows are a great way from the ground. Mrs. Jewkes was excessively frightened ; she instantly raised the Swiss, and the two maids, who lay not far off; and finding every door fast, she said, " I must be carried away, as Peter was out of prison, by some angtl." Its a wonder she had no worse thought. She says, she wept and wrung her hands and took on sadly, running about like a mad woman, little thinking I could have got out of the closet window, between the iron bars ; and indeed I don't know whether I could do so again. But at last finding that casement open, they concluded it must b(? so; and ran out into the garden, and found my footsteps in the mould of the bed which I dropt down upon from the leads : immediately Mrs. Jewkes, Cotbrand', and Nan, went towards the back-door,- to see if that was fast ; uhile the cook was sent to the out-offices, to raise the men, and make them get horses ready, to take each a different \. ay to pursue me. Finding that door double locked, and padlocked, the hed*of my shoe, and the broken bricks, they concluded I was got away by some means over the wall ; and then, they say, Mrs. Jewkes seemed like a distracted wo- man r till at last Nan had the thought to go towards the pond ; and there seeing my coat, cap, and handkerchief, in the water, cast almost to the banks by the agitation of the waves, sht' thought it was me ; and, scream- ing out, ran to Mrs. Jewkes, and said, " O Madam ! here's a piteous thing : Mrs. Pamela lies drowned in the pond." Thither they all ran ; and finding my clothes, doubted not 1 was at the bottom: they all, Swiss among the rest, beat their breasts, ard made the most dismal lamentations . Mrs. Jewkes sent Nan to the men, to bid them get the drag-net ready, and leave the horses, and come to try to find the poor innocent! as she, it seems, then called me, beating her breast, and lamenting my hard fate, PAMELA. 139 Pamela discovered in the Wood-house. but most what would, become of them, and what account they should give to my master. While every one was thus differently employed, some weeping and wailr ing, some running here and there, Nan came into the wood-house : and there lay poor I ; so weak, so low and dejected, and so stiff with my bruises, that I could not stir, or get upon my feet. I said, with a low voice" (for I could hardly speak) " Mrs. Ann, Mrs. Ann 1" The creature was sadly frighted, and was taking up a billet to knock me on the head, believing I was some thief, but I cried out, " Mrs. Ann, help me, for pity's sake I for I cannot get up!" "Bless me," said she,," what ! you, Madam ! Why, our hearts are almost broken, and we are going to drag the pond for you, believing you had drowned yoursslf. Now," said she, " you'll make us all alive again!" And, without helping me, she ran away to the pond, and brought all the servants to the wood-house. The wicked woman, as she entered, said* " Where is she ? Plague of her spells and witchcrafts ! She shall dearly repent of this trick, if my name be Jewkes ;" and, coining to me, took hold of my arm so roughly, and gave me such a pull, as made me squeal out (my shoulder bejng bruised on that side) and drew me on my face. " O cruel creature," said I, " if you knew what I have suffered, it would move you to pity me!" Even Colbrand seemed to be concerned, and said, " Fie, Madam, fie; you see she is almost dead ! You must not be so rough with her." The coachman, Robin, seemed to be sorry for me too, and said with sobs, " What a scene is here! Don't you see she's all bloody in her head, and cannot stir?" "Curse of her contrivances!" said the horrid creature, " she has frightened me out of my wits, I'm sure. How came you here?" " Oh!" said I, " ask me no questions, but let the maids carry me up to my prison ; and there let me die decently and in peace !" For indeed I thought I could not live two hours. The still more inhuman tigress said, " I suppose you want Mr. Williams to pray by you, don't you ? Well, I'll send for my master this minute ; let him come and watch you himself for me ; for there's no such thing as holding you, I'm sure." So the maids took me up between them, and carried me to my cham- ber; and when the wretch saw how bad 1 was, she began a little to relent while every one wondered (at which I had neither strength nor inclina- tion to tell them) how all this came to pass, which they imputed to sorcery or witchcraft. I was so weak, when I got up stairs, that 1 fainted away with dejection, pain, and fatigue ; and they undressed me, and got me to bed; and Mrs. Jewkes ordered Nan to bathe my shoulder, arm, and ancle, with eume old 140 PAMELA. Pamela recovers. rum, warmed ; they cut my hair a little from the back part of my head, and washed it ; for it was clotted with blood, from a pretty long, but not a deep gash ; and put a family plaister upon it ; for, if this woman has any good quality, it is, it seems, in a readiness and skill to manage in cases where sudden misfortunes happen in a family. After this, I fell into a pretty sound and refreshing sleep, and lay till twelve o'clock tolerably, easy, considering I was very feverish, and aguishly inclined. She took a deal of care to fit me to undergo more trials, which I had hoped would have been happily ended : but Providence did not see fit. She would make me rise about twelve ; but I was so weak, I could only sit up till the bed was made, and went into it again : and was, as they said, delirious some part of the afternoon. Having a tolerable night on Thursday, I was a good deal better on Friday, and on Saturday got up and ate a little spoon-meat, and my feverish ness seemed to be gone ; and I was so mended by evening, that I begged her indulgence in my closet, to be left to myself ; which she consented to, it being double-barred the day before, and I assuring her, that all my contrivances, as she called them, were at an end. But first she made me tell the whole story of my enterprise; which I did very faithfully, knowing now that nothing could stand me in any stead, or contribute to my safety or escape : and she seemed full of wonder at my resolution ; but told nie frankly, that I should have found it a hard matter to get quite off; for she was provided with a warrant from my master (who is a justice of peace in this county, as well as in the other) to get me apprehended, if 1 had got away, on suspicion of wronging him, let me have been where 1 would. Oh, how deep laid are the mischiefs designed to fall on my devoted head ! Surely, surely, I cannot be worthy of all this contrivance ! This too well shews me, the truth of what was hinted to me formerly at the other house, that my master swore he would have ine ! Oh, preserve me Heaven ! from being his, in his own wicked sense of the abjuration ! I must add, that now the woman sees me recover so fast, she uses me worse, and has abridged me of paper, all but one sheet, which I am to shew her, written or unwritten, on demand; and has reduced me to one pen : yet my hidden stores stand me in stead. But she is more and more snappish and cross ; and tauntingly calls me Mrs. Williams, and any thing she thinks will vex me. SUNDAY AFTKRN00V. Mrs. Jewkes has thought fit to give me an airing, for three or four hours this afternoon. I am a good deal better ; and should be much more so, if I knew for what 1 was reserved. But health is a blessing hardly to be coveted in my circumstances, since that but exposes me to PAMELA. 141 - p ' - Disgusting Conversation of Mrs. Jewkes. the calamity I am in continual apprehension of; whereas a weak and sickly state might possibly move compassion for me. Oh, how I dread the coming of this angry and incensed master; though I am sure I have done him no harm. Just now we heard that he had like to have been drowned in crossing the stream, a few days ago, in pursuing his game. What is the matter, that, with all his ill usage of me, I cannot hate him ? To be sure, I am not like other people ! He has certainly done enough to make me hate him ; but yet, when I heard his danger, which was very great, I could not in my heart forbear rejoicing for his safety ; though his death would have ended my afflictions. Ungenerous master ! if you knew this, you surely would not be so much my persecutor '. but for my good lady's sake I must wish him well ; and, oh, what an angel would he be in my eyes yet, if he would cease his attempts and reform '. Well, I hear, by Mrs. Jewkes, that John Arnold is turned away, being detected in writing to Mr. Williams ; and that Mr. Longman, and Mr. Jonathan, the butler, have incurred his displeasure, for offering to speak in my behalf. Mrs. Jervis too is in danger ; for all these three probably went together to beg in my favour ; for now it is known where I am. Mrs. Jewkes has, with the news about my master, received a letter ; but she says the contents are too bad for me to know. They must be bad indeed, if they be worse than what I have already known. Just now the horrid creature tells me, as a secret, that she has reason to think he has found out a way to satisfy my scruples : it is, by marry- ing me to this dreadful Colbrand, and buying me of him on the wedding- day, for a sum of money ! Was ever the like heard ? She says it will bo my duty to obey my husband : and tLat Mr. Williams will be forced, as a punishment, to marry us ; and that when my master has paid for me, and I am surrendered up, the Swiss is to go home again, with the money, to his former wife and children ; for she says, it is the custom of tho^e people to have a wife in every nation. But this, to be sure, is horrid romancing ! Yet, abominable as it is, it may possibly serve to introduco some plot now hatching ! With what strange perplexities is my poor mind agitated ! Perchance, some sham mar- riage may be designed on purpose to ruin me ; but can a husband sell his wife against her own consent ? And will such a bargain stand good in law ? MONDAY, TUESDAY, WEDNESDAY, THE 32d, 33d, AND 34th, DAY^S OF MY IMPRISONMENT. Nothing offers these days but squabblings between Mrs. Jewkes and me. She grows worse and worse to me. I vexed her yesterday, becauss she talked nastily ; and told her site talked more like a vile London 142 PAMELA. l-alse Alarm of Pamela escaping. prostitute than a gentleman's housekeeper ; and she thinks she cannot use me bad enough for it. She curses and storms at me like a trooper, and can hardly keep her hands off me. You may believe she must talk sadly, to make me say such harsh words : indeed it cannot be repeated -. as she is a disgrace to her sex. And then she ridicules me, and laughs at my notions of honesty ; and tells me, impudent creature as she is ! what a fine bed-fellow I shall make for my master (and such like) " with such whimsical-notions about me !" Do you think this is to be borne ? And yet she talks worse than this, if possible '. (juke filthily '. Oh, what vile hands am I put into '. THURSDAY. I have now every reason to apprehend my master will be here soon ; for the servants are busy in setting the house to rights ; apd a stable and coach-house are cleaning out, that have not been used some time. I asked Mrs. Jewkes ; but she tells me nothing, nor will hardly answer me when I ask her a question. Sometimes I think she puts on these strange wicked airs to me, purposely to make me wish for, what I dread most of all things, my master's coming down. He talk of love ! If he had the least notion of regard for me, he would not give this naughty body such power over me : And if he does come, where is his promise of not seeing me without I consent to it ? But it seems, his honour owes me nothing. So he tells me in his letter. And why ? Because I am willing to keep mine. But, indeed, he says, he hates me perfectly ; and it is plain he does, or I should not be left to the mercy of this woman ; and, what is worse, to my woful apprehensions. FKIDAY, THE 36th DAY OF MY IMPRISONMENT. I took the liberty yesterday afternoon, finding the gates open, to walk out before the house ; and, before I was aware, had got to the bottom of the long row of elms ; and there I sat myself down upon the steps of a broad stile, which leads into the road, and goes toward the town. And as I sat musing about what always busies my mind, I saw several people running towards me from the house, men and women, as in a fright. At first I wondered what was the matter, till they came nearer : I found they were all alarmed, thinking I had attempted to get off. There was first the horrible Colbrand, running with his long legs, well nigh two yards at a stride ; then there was one of the grooms, poor Mr. Williams's robber ; then I spied Nan half out of breath, and the cook-maid after her ; and lastly came waddling, as fast as she could, Mrs. Jewkes, ex- claiming most bitterly, as I found, against me. Colbrand said, " Oh, how have you frighted us all !" And went behind me, lest I should run away, as I suppose. PAMELA. 143 Pamela's Master arrives. I sat still, to let them see I had no view to get away ; for, besides the improbability of succeeding, my Hast sad attempt has cured me of enter- prising again. And when Mrs. Jewkes came within hearing, I found her terribly incensed, and raving about my contrivances. " Why," said I, " should you be so concerned ? Here I have sat a few minutes, and had not the least thought of getting away, or going farther ; but to return as soon as it was duskish." She would not believe me ; and the barbarous creature struck at me with her horrid fist, and, J believe, would have felled me, had not Colbrand interposed and said, he saw me sitting still, looking about me, and not seeming to have the least inclination to stir. But this would not serve : she ordered the two maids to take nie each by an arm, and lead me back into the-house, and up stairs ; and there have i been locked^up ever since, with out shoes. In vain have I pleaded, that I had no design, as indeed I had not. Last night I was forced to lie be- tween her and Nan ; and I find she is resolved to make a handle of this against me, in her own behalf. Indeed, what with her usage, and my own apprehensions of still worse, I am quite weary of my life. Just now she has been with me, and given me my shoes, and has laid her imperious commands upon me, to dress myself in a suit of clothes out of the portmanteau, which I have not seen lately, against three or four o'clock ; for, she says, she is to have a visit from Lady Darnford's two daughters, who come purposely to see me ; and so she gave me the key of the portmanteau. But 1 did not obey her ; and I told her, I would not be made a shew of, nor see the ladies. She left me, saying, it should be werse for me if I did not. But how can that be ? FIVE O'CLOCK IS COME, And no young ladies ! So that I fancy But bold ! I hoar their coach, I believp. I'll step to the window. I won't go down to them, I ain resolved. Good Sirs ! good Sirs ! What will become of me ? Here is my master come in his tine chariot ! Indeed he is ! What shall I do ? Where shall I hide myself? Oh! what shall I do! Pray for me ! But, oh ! yot. will not see this ! Now, good God of Heaven, preserve me ; if it is thy Li> ssi d will ! SEVEN O'CLOCK. Though I dread to see him, yet I wonder I have not. No doubt some- thing is resolving against me, as he stays to hear all her stout 5. I ciui hardly write; yet, as I can do nothing else, 1 know not how to forbear! I cannot bold my pen How crook* d and trembling the lines ! I must leave off till I can get quieter fingers ! Why should the guiltless trcmUe so, when the guilty van possess their minds in peare ? 144 PAMELA. Interview between Pamela and her Master. SATURDAY MORNING. Now let me give you an account of what passed last night ; for 1 had no power to write, nor yet opportunity, till now. This vile woman held my master till half an hour after seven ; and he came hither about five la the afternoon. And then I heard his voice on the stairs, as he was coming up to me. It was about his supper ; for he said, " I shall choose a boiled chicken, with butter and parsley." And up he came. He put on a stern and majestic air ; and he can look very majestic when he pleases. " Well, perverse Pamela, ungrateful runaway," said he, for my first salutation : " You do well, don't you, to give me all this trouble and vexation ?" 1 could not speak ; but throwing myself on the floor, hid my face, and was ready to die with grief and apprehension. He said, " Well may you hide your face ! well may you be ashamed to see me, vile forward one as you are '." I sobbed, and wept, but could not speak. And he let me lie, and went to the door, and called Mrs. Jewkes, " There," said he, " take up that fallen angel ! Once I thought her as innocent as an angel : but I have now no patience with her. The little hypocrite prostrates herself thus, in hopes to move my weakness in her favour, and that I'll raise her from the floor myself. But I shall not touch her. No," said he, " let such fellows as Williams be taken in by her artful wiles ! I know her now, and she is for any fool's turn that will be caught by her." I sighed as if my heart would break And Mrs. Jewkes lifted me up upon my knees ; for I trembled so I could not stand. " Come," said she, " Mrs. Pamela, learn to know your best friend ! Confess your unworthy ^behaviour, and beg his honour's forgiveness of all your faults." I was ready to faint ; and he said, ** She is mistress of arts, I'll assure you ; and will mimic a fit, ten to one in a minute." I was struck to the heart at this, but could not speak presently; only lifted ray eyes up to Heaven ! And at last said, " God forgive you, Sir ?" He seemed in a great passion, and walked up and down the room, cast- ing sometimes au eye upon me, and seemed as if he would have spoken, but checked himself And at last he said, " When she has'c// this her first jinrt over, perhaps I will see her again, and she shall soon know what she has to trust to." And so he went out of the room ; and 1 was quite sick at heart, " Surely," said I, " I am the wickedest creature that ever breathed!" " Well," said the impertinent, *' not so wicked as that neither; but I am glad you begin to see your faults. Nothing like being- humble ! Come, I'll stand your friend, and plead for you, if you'll promise to be more dutiful for the future. Come, come," added the wretch, " this may be all made up by PAMELA. 145 Pamela waits upon her Master at Supper. to-morrow morning, if you are not a fool." " Be gone, hideous woman I" said I, " and let not my afflictions be added to thy inexorable cruelty, and unwomanly wickedness." She gave me a push, and went away in a violent passion. It seems she made a story of this ; and said, I had such a spirit, there was no bear- ing it. I laid down on the floor, and had no power to stir, till the clock struck nine ; and then the wicked woman came up again. " You must come down stairs," said she, " to my master : that is, if you please, spirit 1" Said I, "I believe I cannot stand." " Then," said she, " I'll send Monsieur Colbrand to carry you down." I got ivp as well as I could, and trembled all the way down stairs ; she went before me into the parlour ; and a new servant that he had waiting on him, instead of John, withdrew as soon as I came in : and, by the way, he had a new coachman too ; which looked as if Bedfordshire Robin was turned away. " I thought," said he, when I came down, " you should have sat at table with me, when I had not company ; hut when I find you cannot for- get your original, but must prefer my menials to me, I call you down to wait on me while I sup, that I may have some talk with you, and throw away as little time as possible upon you." " Sir," said I, " you do me h >nour to wait upon you : and I never shall, I hope, forget my original." But I was forced to stand behind his chair, that I might hold by it. " Fill me," said he, " a glass of that Burgundy." I went to do it ; but my hand shook so, that I could not hold the plate with the glass in it, and spilt some of tlie wine. So Mrs. Jewkes poured it for me, and I carried it as well as I could, and made a low curtsey. II* took it, and said, " Stand behind me, out of my sight !" " Why, Mrs. Jewkes," said \tc, "you tell me, she remains very sullen still, and eats nothing." " No," said she, " not so much as will keep life aiuLsoul together." " And is always crying, you say, too ?" " Yes, Sir," answered she. "I think she is, for one thing or another. "Ay," said he, " your young wenches will feed upon their tears j and their ob- stinacy will serve them for meat and drink. I think 1 never sa her look better in my life But, 1 suppose, she lives upon love. The sweet Mr. Williams, and her little villanous plots together, have kept her alive and well ; for mischief, love, and contradiction, are the natural aliments of a woman." I was forced to hear all this, and be silent ; and indeed my he<;rt was too full to speak. " And so you say," said he, " that she ri.i.J (mother project, but yester- day, to get away ?" " She denies it herself," said she ; " but it had all 1 C M 146 PAMELA. Conversation of Mrs. Jewkes and Pamela's Master the appearance of one. I'm sure she made me in a fearful pucker about it. I'm glad your honour is come ; and, I hope, whatever be your ho- nour's intention concerning her, you will not be long about it ; for you'll find her as slippery as an eel, I'll assure you. " Sir," said 1, and clasped his knees with my arms, not knowing what I did, and falling on my knees, " have mercy on me, and hear me, con- cerning that wicked woman's usage of me." He cruelly interrupted me, and said, " I am satisfied she has done her duty : it signifies nothing what you say against Mrs. Jewkes. That you are here, little hypocrite as you are, pleading your cause before me, is owing to her care of you ; else you had been with the parson. Wicked girl !" said he, " to tempt a man to undo himself, as you have done him, at a time I was on the point of making him happy for his life !" I rose ; but said, with a deep sigh, " I have done, Sir! I have done ! I have a strange tribunal to plead before. The poor sheep, in the fable, had such an one ; when it was tried before the vulture, on the accusation of the wolf 1" " So, Mrs. Jewkes," said he, " you are the wolf, I the vulture, and this the poor innocent lamb on her trial before us ! Oh ! you don't know how well this innocent is read in reflection. She has wit at will, when she has a mind to display her innocence, at the price of other people's character." " Well," said the aggrarating creature, " this is nothing to what she has called me ; I have been a Jezebel, a London prostitute, and what not ! But 1 am content with her ill names, now I see it is her fashion, and she can call your honour a vulture." Said t, " I had no thought of comparing my master." And was going to say more ; but he said, " Don't prate, girl." " No," said she, " it don't become you, I am sure." " Well," said I, " since 1 must not speak, I will hold my peace ; but there is a righteous Judge, who knows the secrets of all hearts ; and to him I appeal." " See there !" said he : " now this meek, good creature is praying for fire from Heaven upon us ! Oh, she can curse most heartily, in the spirit of Christian meekness, I'll assure you. Come, saucy-face, give me another glass of wine." So I did, as well as I could ; but wept so, that he said, " I suppose I >ha!l have some of your tears in my wine !" When he had supped, he stood up, and said, " Oh, how happy for you it is, that you can, at will, make your speaking eyes overflow in this man- ner, without losing any of their brilliancy! You have been told, I suppose, that you are most beautiful in your tears ! Did you ever," said he to her PAMELA. 147 respecting Pamela's Behaviour. (who all this while was standing in one corner of the parlour) " see a more charming creature than this ? Is it to be wondered at, that I demean myself thus to take notice of her ? See," said he, and took the glass with one hand, and turned me round with the other, " what a shape, what a neck ! what a hand '. and what a bloom on that lovely face ! But who can describe the tricks and artifices that lie lurking in her little, plotting, guileful heart ! 'Tis no wonder the poor parson was infatuated with her. I blame him less than I do her ; for who could expect such artifice in so young a sorceress ?" I went to the further part of the room, and held my face against the wainscot ; and, in spite of all I could do to refrain crying, sobbed as if my heart would break. He said, " I am surprised, Mrs. Jewkes, at the mis- take of the letters you tell me of ! But, you see, I am not afraid any body should read what I write. I don't carry on private correspondences, and reveal every secret that comes to my knowledge, and then corrupt people to carry my letters against their duty, and all good conscience." " Come hither, hussy," said he, " you and I have a dreadful reckoning to make. Why don't you come, when I bid you !" " Fie upon it, Mrs Pamela," said she ; " what, not stir, when his honour commands you to eome to him ? Who knows but his goodness will forgive you?" He came to me (for I had not power to stir) and put his arm about my neck, and would kiss me ; and said, " Well, Mrs. Jewkes, if it were not for the thought of this cursed parson, I believe in my heart, so great is my weakness, that I could yet forgive this intriguing little slut, and take her to my bosom." " Oh," said the sycophant, "you are very good, Sir, very forgiving, in- deed! But come," added the profligate wretch, " I hope you will be so good as to take her to your bosom ; and that, by to-morrow morning, you'll bring her to a better sense of her duty !" Could any thing in womanhood be so vile ? I had no patience, but yet grief and indignation choked up the passage of my words , and I could only stammer out a passionate exclamation to heaven, to protect my inno- cence. But the word was the subject of their ridicule. Was ever poor creature worse beset! He said, as if he had been considering whether he could forgive me or not, " No, I cannot yet forgive her neither. She has given me great dis- turbance; has brought great discredit upon me, l>oth abroad and at home; has corrupted all my servants at the other house ; has despised my ho- nourable views and intentions to her, and sought to run away with this ungrateful parson. And surely I ought not to forgive all this." Yet, with all this wretched grimace, he kissed me again, and would have put his band into my bosom ; but I struggled, and said I would die before I M 2 148 PAMELA. Proposals sent to 'amela from her Master.- / would be used thus. " Consider, Pamela," said he, in a threatening tone, " consider where you are ! and don't play the fool : if you do, a more dread- ful fate awaits you than you expect. But, take her up stairs, Mrs. Jewkes, and I'll send a few lines to her to consider of; and let me have your answer, Pamela, in the morning. Till then you have to resolve : and after that your doom is fixed. So I went up stairs, and gave myself up to grief, and expectation of what he would send ; but yet I was glad of this night's reprieve. He sent me, however, nothing at all. And about twelve o'clock, Mrs. Jewkes and Nan came up, as the night before, to be my bed-fellows ; and I would go to bed with some of my clothes on : which the}' muttered at sadly; and Mrs. Jewkes railed at me particularly: indeed I would have sat up all night, for fear, if she would have let me. For I had but very little rest that night, apprehending this woman would let my master in. She did nothing but praise him, and blame me ; but I answered her as little as I could. He has Sir Simon Tell-tale, alias Darnford, to dine with him to-day, whose family sent to welcome him into the country; and it seems, the old knight wants to see me ; so I suppose I shall be sent for, as Samson was, to make sport for him. Here I am, and must bear it all. TWELVE O-'CLOCK, SATURDAY NOON. Just now he has sent me up, by Mrs. Jewkes, the following proposals. So here are the honourable intentions all at once laid open. They are, my dear parents, to make me a vile kept mistress ; which, I hope, I shall always detest the thoughts of. But you'll see how they are accommodated to what I should have most desired, could I have honestly promoted it, your welfare and happiness. I have answered them as I am sure you'll approve, and I am prepared for the worst ; for though 1 fear there will be nothing omitted to ru!u me, and though my poor strength will not be able to defend me, yet 1 will be innocent of crime in my intention, and in the sight of God; and to Him leave the avenging of all my wrongs. I shall write to you my answer against his articles, and hope the best, though I fear the worst. But if I should con;e home to you ruined and undone, and may not be able to. look you in the face, yet pity and inspirit the poor Pamela, to make her little remnant of life easy ; for long I- shall not sur- vive my disgrace : and you. may be assured it shall not be my fault, if it be my misfortune. '* TO MRS. PAMELA ANDREWS. " The following Articles are proposed to your sej-ious consideration ; and let me have an answer, in writing, to them ; that I may take ?y reso- lutions accordingly. On'y remember that I will not be trifled with; and PAMELA. 14 The Articles with Pamela's Answers. what you give for an answer, will absolutely decide your/ate, without expos- tulation or farther trouble." THIS IS MY ANSWER. " Forgive, Sir, tlve spirit your poor servant is about to shew in her answer to your Articles. Not to \te warm, and in earnest, on such an occa- sion as the present, would shew a degree of guilt that, I hope, my soul abhors, I will not trifle with you, nor act like a person doubtful of her own mind, for it wants not one moment's consideration with me, and I therefore return the Answer following, let what will be the consequence." "Article I. If you can con i nee me that the hated parson has had no encouragement from you in his a triremes, and that you have no inclina- tion for him, in preference to me, then I will offer the following proposals t6 you, which I will punctually make good." "Answer. As to the first article, Sir, it may behove me (that I may not 'If serve, in your opinion, the opprobrious terms of forward and artful, an< -< h like) to declare solemnly, that Mr. Williams never .had the least encouragement from me, as to what you hint; and I believe his principaji motive was the duty of his function, quite contrary to his apparent inte- . rest, to assist a person he thought in distress. You may, Sir, the rathe; believe me, when I declare, that I know not the man breathing I would wish to marry ; and that the only one I could honour more than anothet, is the gentleman, who, of all others, seeks my everlasting dishonour." "Art. II. I will directly make you a present of five hundred guineas, for your own use, which you may dispose of to any purpose you please : and I will give it absolutely into the hands of any person you shall ap- point to receive it ; and expect no favour in return, till you are satisfied in the possession oi it." "Answer. As to your second proposal, let the consequence be what it will, I reject it with all my soul. Money, Sir, is not my chief good ; may God Almighty desert me whenever it is ; and whenever, for the sake of that, I can give up my title to that blessed hope which will stand me in stead, at a titix when millions of gold will not purchase one happy moment of reflection on a past mispent life." "Art. III. I will likewise directly make over to you a purchase 1 lately m.ide in Kent, which brings in two hundred and fifty pounds per annum, clear of all deductions. 'I his shall be made over to you in full properly fur your life, and for the livs of any children to perpetuity, that you may happen to have : and your father shall he immediately put into possession of it in trust for these purposes : and the management of it will yji Id a comfortable subsistence to him anil your mother tor life ; and I will m:>ke up any defic'u nc:s, if such should happen, to that clear sum, m 3 150 PAMELA. The Articles with Pamela's Answers. and allow him fifty pounds per annum besides, for his life, and that of your mother, for his care and management of your estate." "Answer. Your third proposal, Sir, I reject for the same reason ; and am sorry you could think my poor honest parents would enter into their part of it, and be concerned for the management of an estate, which would be owing to the prostitution of their poor daughter. Forgive, Sir, my warmth on this occasion ; but you know not the poor man, and the poor woman, my ever dear father and mother, if you think that they would not much rather choose to starve in a ditch, or rot in a noisome dungeon, than accept of the fortune of a monarch upon such wicked terms. I dare not say all that my full mind suggests to me on this grievous occasion. But, Sir, you know them not ; nor shall the terrors of death, in its most frightful form, I hope, through God's assisting grace, ever make me act unworthy of such poor honest parents." " Art. IV. I will, moreover, extend my favour to any other of your relations, that you may think worthy of it, or that are valued by you." "Answer. Your fourth proposal I take upon me, Sir, to answer as the third. If I have any friends that want the favour of the great, may they ever want it, if they are capable of desiring it on unworthy terms '" " Art.V. I will, besides, order patterns to be sent you for choosing four complete suits of rich clothes, that you may appear with reputation as if you were my wife. And I will give you the two diamond rings, and two pair of earrings, and diamond necklace, that wore bought by my mother, to present to Miss Tomlins, if the match that was proposed between her and me had been brought to effect : and I will confer upon you still other gratuities, as I shall find myself obliged by your good behaviour and affection." "Answer. Fine clothes, Sir, become not me; nor have [ any ambi- tion to wear them. I have greater pride in my poverty and meanness, than I should have in dress and finery. Believe me, Sir, I think such things less become the humble born Pamela than the rags your good mother raised me from. Your rings, Sir, your necklace, and your ear- rings, will better befit ladies of degree, than me : and to lose the best jewel, my virtue,, would be poorly recompensed by those you propose to give me. What should I think, when I looked upon my finger! or saw in the glass, those diamonds on my neck, and in my ears, but that they were the price of my honesty, and that I wore those jewels outwardly, because I had none inwardly ?" "Art. VI. Now, Pamela, will you see, by this, what a value I set upon the free-will of a person already in my power; and who, if these proposals are not accepted, shall find, that I have not taken all these pains, and risked n>y reputation, without resolving to gratify my passion, PAMELA. 151 The Articles with Pamela's Answers. - for you, at all adventures ; and if you refuse, I will accomplish my put pose without making any terms at all." "Answer. 1 know, Sir, by woful experience, that I am in your power : I know all the resistance 1 can make will be poor and weak, and perhaps stand me in little stead : I dread your will to ruin me is as great as your power : yet, Sir, will I dare to tell you, that I will make no free-will of- fering of my virtue. All that I can do, poor as it is, I will do, to convince you that your offers shall have no part in my choice : and if I cannot escape the violence of man, I hope, by God's grace, I shall have nothing to reproach myself, for not doing all in my power to avoid my disgrace ; and then I can safely appeal to the great God, my only refuge and pro- tector, with this consolation, that my will bore no part in the violation." " Art. VII. You shall be' mistress of my person and fortune, as much as if the foolish ceremony had passed. All my servants shall be yours ; and you shall choose any two persons to attend yourself, either male or female, without any control of mine ; and if your conduct be such, that I have reason to be satisfied with it, I know not (but will not engage for this) that I may, after a twelvemonth's cohabitation, marry you ; for if my love increase for you, as it has done for many months past, it will be impossible for me to deny you any thing. " And now, Pamela, consider well, it is in your power to oblige me on such terms, as will make yourself, and all your friends, happy ; but this will be over this very day, irrevocably over; and you shall meet with all you fear, without the least benefit arising from it to yourself. " I beg you will well weigh the matter, and comply with my proposals : and J will instantly sot about securing to you the full effect of them : and let me, if you value yourself, experience a grateful return on this occasion, and I'll forgive all that's past." " Answer. I have not once dared to look so high, as to such a proposal as your seventh article contains. Hence have proceeded all my little abortive artifices to escape from the confinement you have put mc in ; although you have promised to be honourable to me. Your honour, well I know, would not let you stoop to so mean and unworthy a slave, as the poor Pamela: all I desire is, to be permitted to return to my native mean- ness unviolated. What have I done, Sir, to deserve it should be other- wise? For the obtaining of this, though I would not have married your < haplaiu, yet would 1 have ran away with your meanest servant, if 1 had thought I could have got safe to niy beloved poverty. I heard you once say, ">ir, that a certain great commander, who could live upon lentils, might well refuse the bribes of the greatest monarch : and I hope, as I mil contentedly live at the meanest rate, and think not myself above the lowest condition, that I am also above making an exchange of my M 4 152 PAMELA. Pamela advises her Master to consider of his wicked Intentions. honesty for all the riches of the Indies. When I come to be proud and vain of gaudy apparel, and outside finery ; then (which I hope will never be) may I rest my principal good in such vain trinkets, and despise for them the more solid ornaments of a good fame, and a chastity inviolate. " Give me leave to say, Sir, in answer to what you hint, that you may, in a twelvemonth's time, marry me, on the continuance of my good beha- viour ; that this weighs less with me, if possible, than any thing else you have said ; for, in the first place, there is an end of all merit, and all good behaviour on my side, if I have now any, the moment I consent to your proposals : and I should be so far from expecting such an honour, that I will pronounce, that I should be most unworthy of it. What, Sir, would the world say, were you to marry your harlot? That a gentleman of your rank in life should stoop, not only to the base born Pamela, but to a base born prostitute ? Little, Sir, as I know of the world, 1 am not to be caught by a bait so poorly covered as this ! " Yet, after all, dreadful is the thought, that I, a poor, weak, friend- less, unhappy creature, am too fully in your power ! But permit me, Sir, to pray, as I now write, on my bended knees, that before you resolve upon ray ruin, you will weigh well the matter. Hitherto, Sir, though you have taken large strides to this crying sin, yet are you on this side the commission of 1t. When once it is done, nothing can recal it ! And where will be your triumph ? What glory will the spoils of such a weak enemy yield you ? Let me but enjoy my poverty with honesty, is all my prayer ; and I will bless you, and pray for you, every moment of my life ! Think, oh, think! before it is yet too late, what stings, what remorse, will attend your dying hour, when you come to reflect, that you have ruined, perhaps soul and body, a wretched creature, whose only pride was her virtue ! And how pleased you will be, on the contrary, if in that tre- mendous moment, you shall be able to acquit yourself of this foul crime, and to plead, in your own behalf, that you suffered the earnest supplica- tions of an unhappy wretch to prevail with you to be innocent yourself, and let her remain so ! May God Almighty, whose mercy so lately saved you from the peril of perishing in deep waters (on which I hope you will give me cause to congratulate you !) touch your heart in my favour, and save you from this sin, and me from this ruin ! And to Him do I commit my cause : and to Him will I give the glory, and night and day pray for you, if I may be permitted to escape this great evil ! Your poor oppressed, broken spirited servant." I took a copy of this for your perusal, my dear parents, if I shall ever be so happy as to see you again (for I hope my conduct will be approved of by you ;) and at night when Sir Simon was gone, he sent for me. " Well," PAMELA. 153 Pamela refuses to attend ber iMi.-tsr in his Chamber. said he, " have you considered my proposals?" " Yes, Sir," said I, ** I have ; and there is my answer : but pray let me not see you read it." '* Is it your bashfulness," said he, " or your obstinacy, that makes you not choose I should read it before you ?" I offered to go away : and he said, " Don't run from me ; I won't read it till you are gone. But," said he, " tell me, Pamela, whether you comply with my proposals or" not ?" "Sir," said I, " you will see pre- sently ; pray don't hold me ;" for he took my hand. Said he, " Did you well consider, before you answered ?" " I did, Sir," said I. " if it be not what you think will please me," said he, " dear girl, take it back again, and reconsider it ; for if I have this as your absolute answer, and 1 don't like it, you are undone ; for I will not sue meanly where I can command. I fear," said he, " it is not what 1 like, by your manner : and let me tell you, that I cannot bear denial. If the terms I have of- fered are not sufficient, I will augment them to two-thirds of my estate ; for," said he, and swore a dreadful oath, " I cannot live without you: and, since the thing is gone so far, / will not !" And so he clasped me in his arms, in such a manner as quite frightened me ; and kissed me two or three times. I got from him and ran up stairs, and went to the closet, and was cniite uneasy and fearful. In an hour's time he called Mrs. Jewkes down to him ! And I heard him very high in passidh : and all about poor me ! I heard her say it was his own fault ; there would be an end of all my complaining and per- verseness, if he was once resolved ; and other most impudent aggravations. I am resolved not to go to bid this night, if I can help it! Lie still, lie Still, my poor fluttering heart ! What will become of me ! ALMOST TWELVE O'CLOCK, SATURDAY NIGHT. He sent Mrs. Jewkes about ten o'clock, to tell me to come to him "Where?" said I. "I'll shew you," said she. I went down three or four steps, and saw her making to his chamber, the door of which was open : so I said, " I cannot go there !" Don't be foolish," said she ; " but come ; no harm will be done to you." " Well," said I, " if I die, I cannot go there." I heard him say, " Let her come, or it shall be worse for her. I can't bear," said he, " to speak to her mysdf !" " Well," said 1, " I cannot come, indeed I cannot ;" and so I went up again into my closet, expecting to be fetched down by force. But she came up soon after, and bid me make haste to bed : said I, " I will not go to bed this night, that's certain I" " Then," said she, " you fchall be made to come to bed ! and Nan and I'will undress vou." I knew 154 PAMELA. Pamela refuses to go to Bed. neither prayers nor tears would move this wicked woman : so I said, " I am sure you will let my master in, and I shall be undone l" " Mighty piece of undone," she said : but he was too much exasperated against me to be so familiar with me, she would assure me! ' Ay," said she, " you'll be disposed of another way soon, I can tell you for your comfort : and I hope your husband will have your obedience, though nobody else can have it." " No husband in the world," said I, " shall make me do an unjust or base thing." She said that would be soon tried; and Nan coming in, "What '." saidl, "am 1 to have two bed-fellows again, these warm nights ?" -r-" Yes," said she, " slippery one, you are ;" and seeing me still unwilling, added, " Come to bed, purity! You are a non-such, I suppose." " In- deed," said I, " I can't come to bed; and it will do you no harm to let me stay all night in the great chair." " Nan," said she, " undress my young lady. If she won't let you, I'll help you ; and if neitherof us can do it quietly, we'll call my master." " You are very wicked," said I. " I know it," said she ; "I am a Jezebel, and a London prostitute, you know." " You did great feats," said I, " to tell my master all this poor stuff ; but y#u did not tell him how you beat me." " No, lambkin," said she (a word I had not heard a good while) " that I left for you to tell ; and you was going to do it, if the vulture bad not taken the wolfs part, and bid the poor innocent lamb be silent '." " Ay," said I, " no matter for your fleers, Mrs. Jewkes ; though I can have neither justice or mercy here, and cannot be heard in my defence, yet a time will come, may be, when I shall be heard, and when your guilt will strike you dumb!" " Ay, spirit," said she, " and the vulture too ! Must we be both dumb ? Why that, lambkin, will be pretty! Then," said the wicked one, " you'll hare all the talk to your- self! Then how will the tongue of the pretty lambkin bleat out innocence, and virtue, and honesty, till the whole trial be at end." " You're a wicked woman, that's certain," said I ; " and if you thought any thing of another world, could not talk thus. But no wonder ! it shows what hands I have got into !" " Ay, so it does," said she ; " but I beg you'll undress and come to bed, or I believe your innocence won't keep you from still worse hands." " I will come to bed," said I, " if you will let me have the keys in my own hand ; not else, if I can help it." " Yes," said she, "and then for another contrivance, another escape!" " No, no," said I, " all my contrivances are over, I'll assure you ! Pray let me have the keys, and I will come to bed." She came to me, and took me in her huge arms, as if I was a feather. Said she, " I do this to shew you what a poor resistance you can make against me, if I please to exert myself; and so, lambkin, don't say to your wolf, " I won't come to bed ! ' And set me down, and tapped me on the neck : " Ab !" said she, " thou art a pretty creature, it's PAMELA. 155 Pamela's Prayers for herself and her Master. true; but so obstinate! so full of spirit! if thy strength were but an- swerable to that, thou wouldst run away with us all, and this great house too, on thy back !" ** Well," said I, " I see my misfortunes make you very merry, and witty too : but I will love you, if you will humour me with the keys of the chamber-doors." " Are you sine you will love me ?" said she : " now speak your conscience ! ** Why," .said I, " you must not put it so close ; neither would you, if you thought you had not given reason to doubt it. But. I will love you as well as I can : I would not tell a wilful lie ; if I did, you would not believe me, after your hard usage." " Well," said she, ** that's all fair, I own ! But, Nan, pray pull off my young lady's shoes and stock- ings." " No, pray don't," said I ; " 1 will come to bed presently, since 1 must." And so I went to the closet, and scribbled a little about this idle chit-chat. And she being importunate, I was forced to go to bed; but with some of my clothes on, as the former night: she let me hold the two keys ; for there are two locks, there being a double door, and so 1 got a little sleep that night, having had none for two or three nights before. 1 can't imagine what she means ; but Nan offered to talk a little once or twice, but she snubbed her, and said, " I charge you, wench, don't open your lips before me ; and if you are asked any questions by Mrs. Pamela, dou't answer her one word, while I am here !" But she is a lordly woman to the maidservants; and that has always been her character. Ob, how unlike good Mrs. Jervis in every thing ! SUNDAY MORNING. A thought came into my head ; I meant no harm ; but it was a little bold. For, seeing my master dressing to go to church, and his chariot getting ready, I went to my closet, and I writ " The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired for a ge?itlcnian of great worth and honour, who labours under a temptation to er>:rt his great power to ruin a poor, distressed, worthless maiden. And also, " The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired, by a poor dis- tressed creature, for the preservation qf her virtue and innocence." Mrs. Jewkes came up : " Always writing," said she, and would see it : and straight, all that ever I could say, carried it down to my master. He looked upon it, and said, " Tell her she shall soon see how her prayers are answered. She is very bold : but as she has rejected all my favours, her reckoning for all is not far off." I looked after him out of the window ; and he was charmingly dressed. He is a handsome, fine gentleman! What a pity his heart is not as good as his appearance ! Why can't I hate him ? But don't he uneasy if you should sec this ; for it is impossible I should love him ; for his vices all ugly him over, us I may say. J 156 PAMELA. Pamela's sees her Master's Letter to Mrs. Jewkes. My master sends word that lie shall not come home to dinner: I sup- pose he dines with Sir Simon Darnford. I am much concerned for poor Mr. Williams. Mrs. Jewkes says he is confined still, and takes on much. All his trouble is brought upon him for my sake : this grieves me much. My master, it seems, will have bis money from him : this is very hard ; for it is three fifty pounds he gave him, as he thought, a* salary for three years that he had been with him : but there was no agreement between them, and he absolutely depended on my master's favour. It was the more generous of h ; m to run these risks for the sake ef oppressed inno- cence '. and I hope he will meet with his reward in due time. Alas for .me! I dare not plead for him : that would raise my oppressor's jealousy more : and I have not interest to save myself. SUNDAY EVENING. Mrs. Jewkes has received a Hue from my master ; I wonder what it is, for his chariot is come home without him. But she will tell me nothings so it is in vain to ask her. I am so fearful of plots and tricks, I know not what to do ! Every thing I suspect ! for now my disgrace is avowed, what can I think ? To be sure, the worst will be attempted. I can only pour out my soul in prayer to God, for his blessed protection ! but, if I must suffer, let me not be long a mournful survivor ! Only let me not shorten my own time sinfully'. This woman left upon the table, in the chamber, this letter of my mas- ters to her, and I bolted myself in till I had transcribed it : you'll see how tremblingly, by the lines. I wish poor Mr. Williams's release; but this letter makes my heart ache. Yet I have another day's reprieve, thank God. " MRS. JEWKES, " I have-been so pressed on Williams's affair, that I shall set out this afternoon, in Sir Simon's chariot, and with Parson Peters, who is his in- tercessor, for Stamford ; and shall not be back till to-morrow evening, if then. . As to your ward, I am thoroughly incensed against her : she has withstood her time, and now, would she sign and seal to my articles, it is too late. I shall discover something, perhaps, by him ; and will, on my return, let her know, that all her ensnaring loveliness shall not save her from the fate that awaits her. But let her know nothing of this, lest it put her frightful mind upon plots and artifices. Be sure trust her not without another with you at night, lest she venture the window in Iter foolish rashness : for I shall require her at your hands. Yours, Sfc." I had but just finished taking a copy of this, and laid the letter where I had it, and unbolted the door, when she came up, in a great fright, for PAMELA. 15/ Pamela's Master pretends to go to Stamford. fear *,should have seen it: but I being; in my closet, and that laying as she left it, she did not mistrust. "Oh," said she, ".I was afraid you had seen my roaster's letter here, which I carelessly left on the table." " I wish," said I, " I had known that." " Why sure," said she, " if you had, you would not have offered to read my letters." " Indeed," said I, " I should at this time, if it had been in my way. Do let me see it." " Well," said she, " I wish poor Mr.Williams well off: I understand my master is gone to make up matters with him, which is very good. To be sure," added she " he is a very good gentleman, and very forgiving.'' " Why," said I, as if I had known nothing of the matter, " how earn he make matters up with him? Is not Mr.Williams at Stamford?" " Yes," said she, " I believe so : but Parson Peters pleads for him, and he is gone with him to Stamford, and will not be back to-night : so we have nothing to do, but to eat our suppers betimes, and get to bed." " Ay, that's pure," said I ; " and I shall have good rest this night, I hope."" So," said she, " you might every night, but for your idle fears. You are afraid of your friends when none are near you." " Ay, that's. true," said I ; " for I have not one near me." So have I one more good honest night before me ; what the next may he I know not : so I'll try to take a good sleep, while I can be a little easy. Therefore, here I say, " Good night, my dear parents ;" for I have ne more to write about this night ; and though his letter shocks mc, yet f will be as brisk as I can, that she mayn't suspect I have sect: it. TUESDAY NIGHT. % Fob the future I will always mistrust most, when appearances look fairest. O your poor daughter! what has she not suffered since what I wrote on Sunday night'. My worst trial, and my fearfulest danger ! Oil, how I shudder to write yuti an account of this wicked interval of time ! For, my dear parents, will you not be too much frightened and affected with my distress, when I tell you that his journey to Stamford was all abo- minable pretence ; for he came home privately, and had nigh effected ail his vile purposes, and the ruin of your poor daughter ; and that by such i plot as I was not in the least apprehensive of; and, oh! what a viie and unwomanly part that wicked wretch, M** Jewkos, acted in it. I left off with informing you how much I was pleased that I had one night's reprieve added to my honesty. Hut I had less occasion to rejoice than ever, as you will judge, by what I have said already. Tike, then, the dreadful story, as well as I can relate it. The maid Nan i<-, a little apt to drink, ii she ran get at liquor and Mrs. .Jewkes happened, or designed, a; is probable, to leave a bottle of cherry- brandy in her way, and the wench drank some cf it more than she 158 PAMELA. Pamela give* an Account of lit i Life to Mrs. Jr-wkca. should : and when she came in to lay the cloth, Mrs. Jewkes perceh.-d it, and scolded her sadly; for she has too many faults of her own, to suffer ar.y of the like sort in any body else, if she can help it ; and she bid her get out of her sight, when we had supped, and go to bed, to sleep off her liquor before we came to bed. So the poor maid went muttering up stairs. About two hours after, which was near eleven o'clock, Mrs. Jewkes and I went up to bed ; I pleasing myself with what a charming night I should have. We locked both doors, and saw poor Nan, as I thought (but, oh ! it was my abominable master, as you shall hear by and by) sitting fast asleep, in an elbow chair, in a dark corner of the room, with her apron thrown over her head and neck. Mrs. Jewkes said, " There is that beast of a wench, fast asleep, instead of being a-bed ! I knew," said she, " she had taken a fine dose." " I'll wake her," said I. " No, don't." said she ; " let her sleep on ; we shall lie better without her." " Ay," said I, " so we shall ; but won't she get cold ?" Said she, " I hope you have no writing to-night." " No," replied I* " I will go to bed with you, Mrs. Jewkes." Said she, " I wonder what you can find to write about so much ; and am sure you have better con- veniences of that kind, and more paper, than I am aware of; and I had intended to rummage you, if my master had not come down ; for I spied a broken tea cup with ink, which gave me suspicion ! but as he is come, let him look after you, if he will ; and if you deceive him, it will be his own fault." All this time we were undressing ourselves. And I fetched a deep sigh. "What do you sigh for?" said she. "I am thinking, Mrs. Jewkes,'' answered I, " what a sad life I live, and how hard is my lot. I am sure the thief that has robbed is much better off than I, 'bating the guilt ; I should, I think, take it for a mercy to be hanged out of the way, rather than live in these cruel apprehensions. Being not sleepy, and in a prat- tling vein, 1 began to give a little history of myself, as I did, once before, to Mrs. Jervis ; in this manner : " Here," said I, " were my poor honest parents ; they took care to instil good principles into my mind, till I was almost twelve years of age ; and taught me to prefer goodness and poverty to the highest condition of life ; and they confirmed their lessons by their own practice ; for they were, of late years, remarkably poor, and always as rem?j;kably honest, even to a proverb : for, As honest as Goodman Andrews, was a by word. " Well, then," said I, " comes my late dear good lady, and takes a fancy to me, and said she would be the making of me, if I was a good girl : she put nie to sing, to dance, to play on the spinet, in order to divert her melancholy hours ! and also taught me all manner of fine needle-work ; but still this was her lesson My good Pamela, be virtuous, and keep the PAMELA. . 159 ' * Pamela's Contempt of her Master's Otters. men at a distance. So I was, I hope, and so I did ; and yet, though I say it, they all loved me, and respected me, and would do any thing for me, as if I was a gentlewoman. * But then, what comes next ? Why, it pleases God to take my good lady ; and then comes my master : and what says he ? Why, in effect it is' Be not virtuous, Pamela.' "So I have lived about sixteen years in virtue and reputation; and all at once, when I come to know what is good, and what is evil, I must' renounce a.i the good, all the whole sixteen years' innocence, which, nextj to God's grace, I owed chiefly to my parents, and my lady's good lessons and examples, and choose the evil ; so, in a moment's time, become the vilest of creatures ! All this for what, I pray ? Why, truly, for a pair of diamond earrings, a necklace, and a diamond ring for my finger, which would not become me : for a few paltry fine clothes, which, when I wore them, would make but my former poverty more ridiculous to every body that saw me, especially when they knew the base terms I wore them upon. But, indeed I was to have a great parcel of guineas beside ; I forgot how many ; for, had they been ten times more, they would not have been so much to me as the honest six guineas you tricked me out of, Mrs. Jewkes. "Well! but then I was to have I know not how many pounds a year for my life ; and my poor father (there was the jest of it !) was to be the manager for the abandoned prostitute his daughter ; and then (there was the jest again !) my kind, forgiving, virtuous master would pardon me all my misdeeds 1" "Yes, thank him for nothing, truly. And what, pray, are all these violent misdeeds ? Why, they are for daring to adhere to the good lessons that were taught me, and not learning a new one, that would have re- versed all my former ; for not being contented when I was run away with, in order to be ruined, but contriving, if my poor wits had been able, to get out of danger, and preserve myself honest. " Then was he once jealous of poor John, though he knew John was his wn creature, and helped to deceive me. " Then was he outrageous against poor parson Williams ; and him has this good merciful master thrown into jail ; and for what ? Why. truly, for that, being a divwie, and a good man, he had the fear of God before Ins eyes, and was willing to forego all his expectations of interest, and assist an oppressed poor creature. " But, to be sure, I must be forward, bold, saucy, and what not, to dare to run away from certain ruin, and to strive to escape from an unjust confinement ; and I must be married to the parson, nothing so sure ! " H- would have had but a poor catch of me, had 1 consented ; but he 160 PAMELA. i i .. ...,. , . _ . i .. . .1 j Pamela's Master secretes himself in the Bed-room. '''"" _,.,', . , ' , and you too know I did not want to marry any body. I only wanted to go to my poor parents, to have my liberty, and not to be confined by such an unlawful restraint; which would not have been indicted upon me, but only that 1 am a poor destitute, young body, and have no friend that is able to right me. " So, Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " here is my history in brief. I am a very unhappy young creature ! And why am I so ? Why because my master sees something in my person that takes his present fancy, and because I would not be undone. I, therefore, must, and shall be undone ! and this is all the reason that can be given." She heard me run on ell this time, while I was undressing, without any interruption ; and I said, " Well, I must go to the two closets, ever since an affair of the closet at the other house^ though he is so far off. And I have a good mind to wake this poor maid." " No, don't," said she, " I charge you. I am very angry with her, and she'll get no harm there : and if she wakes, she may come to bed well enough, as long as there is a candlu in the chimney. So 1 looked into the closets, and kneeled down in my own, as I used to do, to sy my prayers, and passed by the poor sleeping wench, as I thought, in my return. But, oh '. little did I think it was my wicked, wicked master, in a gown and petticoat of her's, and her apron over his face and shoulders. What meanness will not Lucifer make his votaries stoop to, to gain their abominable ends ! Mrs. Jewkes, by this time, was got to bed, on the farther side, as she used to be ; and, to make room for the maid, when she should awake. I got into bed, and lay close to her. I said, " Where are the keys ? Though," said 1, " I am not so much afraid to-night." " Here," said the wicked woman, " put your arm under mine, and you shall find them about my wrist, as they used to be." So I did, and the abominable designer held my hand with her right hand, as my right arm was under her left. In less than a quarter of an hour, I said, " There's poor Nan awake ; I hear her stir." "Let us go to sleep," said she, " and not mind her : she'll come to bed when she's quite awake." "Poor soul," said T, "I'll warrant she'il have the head-ache to-morrow for this '." " Be silent," said she, "and go to sleep; you keep me awake: I never found you in so talkative a humour in my life." " Don't chide me," said I, " I will but say one thing more : Do you think Nan could hear me talk of my mas- ter's offers ?" "No, no," said she, " she was dead asleep." " I'm glad of that," said I, " because I would not expose my master to his common servants ; and I knew you were no stranger tohis fine articles." Said she, *' 1 think they were fine articles, and you were bewitched you did not close with them : hut let us go to sleep." So 1 was silent, and the pre- PAMELA, 16X Pamela's Master's violent Attempt on her Virtue. ' tended Nan (O wicked, base, vi\Janous designer ! what an unexpected plot was this '.) seemed to be awaking ; and Mrs. Jewkes, abhorred crea ture ! said, " Come Nan ! what, are you awake^at last ? Pr'ythee come to bed ; for Mrs. Pamela is in a talking fit, and won't go to sleep one while." At that the pretended she came to the bed-side, and sitting down in a chair, where the curtain hid her, began to undress. Said I, " Poor Mrs* Anne, I warrant your head aches most sadly! How do you do?" She answered not a^vord. Said the superlatively wicked woman, " You 'know I have ordered ber not to answer you." And this plot, to be sure, was laid when she gave her these orders, the night before. ' I heard her, as I thought, breathe quick and short : " Indeed," said I, " Mrs. Jewkes, the poor maid h> not well. What ails you, Mrs. Anne?" And still no answer was made. I tremble to relate what followed ; for his voice broke upon me like a clap of thunder, " Now, Pamela," said he, " is the dreadful time of reck- oning come, that I have threatened." I screamed out in such a manner, as never any body heard the like. But there was nobody to help me. Sure never poor soul was in such agonies as I. " Wicked man !" said I, " wicked abominable woman! O God! my God! this time! this one time ! deliver me from this distress ! or strike me dead this moment." And then I screamed again and again. Said he, " One word with you, Pamela ; hear me but one word ; and hitherto you see I offer nothing to you." Vou see, now you are in my power! You cannot get from me, nor help yourself: yet have I not of- fered any thing amiss to you. But if you resolve wot to comply with my proposals, I will not lose this opportunity : if you do, I will yet leave you." " O Sir," said I, " leave me, and I will do any thing I ought to do." " Swear, then, to me," said he, " that you will accept my proposals!" With struggling and terror I fainteda w a y, and did not come to myself soon ; so that they Iwrth, from~Ttlecold sweats that I was in, thought me dying. And 1 remember no more than that, when with great difficulty they brought me to myself, she was sitting on one side of the bed, with her clothes on : and he on the other with his, and in his gown and slippers. Your poor Pamela cannot answer for the liberties taken with her in her deplorable state. And when I saw them, I snt up in my bed, without * any regard to what appearance I made, aud nothing about my neck ; and be soothing me, with an aspect of pity and concern. I put my hand to his mouth, and said, " Oh, tell me, yet tell nie not, what have 1 suf- fered in this distress ?" I talked quite wild, and knew not what ; for, to be sure, I was on the point of distraction. He most solemnly, and with a bitter imprecation, vowed he had not h fi N 162 PAMELA. Pamela's Matter treats her with Tenderness. offered the least indecency ; that be wn* frightened at the terrible manner I was taken in the fit ; that he should desist from his attempt ; and begged but to see me easy and quiet, and he would leave BM and go to his own bed. "Oh, then/' said J, " take with you this most wicked wo- man, this vile Mrs. Jewkes, as an earnest, that I may believe you '." "And will you, Sir," said the wicked wretch, " for a fit or two, give up such an opportunity as this ? I thought you had known the sex better. She is now, you see, quite well again !" "V This 1 heard ; more she might say ; but I fainted away once more, at these words, and at his clasping his arms about me again. When I came a little to myself, I saw him sit there, and the maid Nan, holding a smel- ling-bottle to my nose, and no Mrs. Jewkes. He said, taking my hand, " I vow to you, my dear Pamela, that I will leave you the moment I see you better, and pacified. Here's Nan knows and will tell you my concern for you. 1 have not offered any indecency to you : and since I found Mrs. Jewkes so offensive to you, I have sent her to the maid's bed, and the maid shall sleep with you to-nif;ht. But promise me, that you will compose yourself, and I will leave you." " But," said I, " will not Nan also hold my hand ? Will not she let you come in again to me ?" He said, " Depend on it I will not come in again to-night. Nan, go to bed, and do all you can to comfort the dear crea- ture and now, Pamela," said he, "give me your hand, and say you forgive me, and I will leave you to your repose." I held out my trem- bling hand, which he kissed : and I said, " God forgive you, Sir, as you have been .just in my distress ; and as you will be just to what yoa pro- mise !" He withdrew with a countenance of remorse : Nan shut the doors, and at my request brought the keys to bed. This, O my dear parents, was a most dreadful trial. I tremble still to think of it ; and dare not recal all the horrid circumstances. I hope, as he assures me, he was not guilty of indecency ; but have reason to bless God, who, by disabling my faculties, impowered me to preserve my inno- cence ; and, when all my strength would have signified jnothing, magni- fied himself in my weakness. I was so weak all day on Monday, that I could not get out of my bed. My master shewed, great tenderness for me ; and I hope he is really sorry, and that this will be his last attempt : but he does not say so. He came in the morning, as soon as he heard the doer open, and I began to be fearful. He stopped short of the bed, and said, " Rather than give you apprehensions, I will come no farther." I said, " Your honour, Sir, and your mercy, is all I have to beg." He sat himself on th side of the bed, and asked kindly how I did; begged me to be composed ; md said, I still looked a little wild. I said, " Pray, good Sir, let me not PAMELA. 163 Pamt-'U'a Master determines not to let her go Home. sec this infamous Mrs. Jewkes : I-cannot bear her sight." "She shan't come near you all this day, if you'll promise to compose yourself." " Then, Sir, I will try." He pressed my hand very tenderly, and went out. Whit a change does this shew ' Oh, may it be lasting ! But, alas 1 he seems only to have altered his method of proceeding; and retains, I doubt, his wicked purpose. - On Tuesday, about ten o'clock, when my master heard I was up, he sent for me down into the parlour. As soon as he saw me, he said, ' Come nearer to me, Pamela." I did so, and he took my hand, and said, " You begin to look well again : 1 am glad of it. You little slut, how did you frighten me on Sunday night !" " Sir," said I, " pray name not that night;" and my eyes overflowed at the remembrance, and I turned my head nside. Said he, " Place some little confidence in me : I know what those charming eyes mean, you need not explain yourself: for I assure you, that as soon as I saw you change, and a cold sweat bedew your pretty face, and you fainted away, 1 quitted you, and Mrs. Jewkes did so too. I put on tny gown, and she fetched her smelling-bottle, and we both did all we cotttt to restore you ; and my passion for you was all swallowed up in the concern I had for your recovery ; for I never saw a fit so strong and violent in my life ; and feared we should not bring you to life again ; for what I iaw you in once before was nothing to it. This," said he, " might be my ignorance of what passion your sex can shew when they are in ear- nest. But this I repeat to you, that your mind may be entirely com* forted Whatever I offered to you, was before you fainted, and that, 1 am sure, was innocent." " Sir," said I, " that was very bad : and it was too plain you had the worct designs." i" When," said he, " I tell you the truth in one instance, you may believe me in the other. I could curse my weakness and folly, which makes me own that I love you beyond all your sex, and cannot live without you. But, if I am master of myself, and my own resolution, I will not attempt to force you to any thing again." *' Sir," said I, "you may caily keep your resolution, if you'll Send me out of your way, to my poor parents , that is all 1 beg." " Tis a folly to talk of it," said he. " You must not, shall not go ! And if I could be assured you would not attempt it, you should have better u^age, and your confinement should be made easier to you." " But to what end, Sir, am I to stay ?" said I : " you yourself seem not sure you can keep yjur own present good resolutions ; and do you think, if 1 was to stay, when I could get away, and be safe, it would not look as if either I confided too much in my own strength, or would tempt my ruin ? And as if I was not in earnest to wish myself safe, and out of danger. And N 2 164 PAMELA. I unela'i Master intercedes fur Mrs. Jewkes. then, how long am I to stay ? and to what purpose ? and in what light must I appear to the world ? Would not that censure me, although I might he innocent. You will allow, Sir, that, if there be any thing va- luable or exemplary in a good nai-ie, or fair reputation, one must not despise the world's censure, if one can avoid it." " Well," said he, " I sent not for you on this account, just now ; but for two reasons : the first is, that you promise me, that for a fortnight to come you will not offer to go away without my express consent : and this I expect for your own sake, that I may give you a little more liberty. And the second is, that you will see aud forgive Mrs. Jewkes : she thinks that, as all her fault was her obedience to me, it would be very hard to sacrifice her to your resentment." " As to the first, Sir," said I, " it is a hard injunction, for the reasons I have mentioned. And as to the second, considering her vile unwomanly wickedness, and her endeavours to instigate you more to ruin me, when your returning goodness seemed to have some compassion upon me, it is still harder. But, to shew my obedience to your commands" (for you know, my dear parents, I might as well make a merit of my compliance, when my refusal will stand me in no stead) " I will consent to both; and to every thing else that you shall be pleased to enjoin, which I can do with innocence." " That's my good girl !" said he, and kissed me " that is quite pru- dent, and shews me that you don't take insolent advantage of my favour for you ; and will perhaps, stand you in more stead than 'you are a\nare of." So he rung the bell, and said, " Call down Mrs. Jewkes. She came down, and he took my hand, and put it into hers ; and said, " Mrs. Jewkes, I am obliged to you for all your diligence and fidelity to sie ; but Pamela, I must own, is not so ; because the service I employed you in- was offensive to her ; and you were not to favour her, but obey me. But yet I'll assure you, she has this once obliged me by consenting to be friends with you ; and if she gives me no great cause, I shall not put you on such disagreeable service again. Now be once more bed-fellows and compa- nions for some days longer; see that Pamela sends no letter nor messages out of the house, nor keeps a correspondence unknown to me, especially with that Williams; and, as for the rest, shew the dear girl all the respect that is due to one I must love, if she will deserve it, as I hope she will yet ; and let her be under no unnecessary or harsh restraints. But your watchful care is not to cease ; aud remember, you are not to disoblige me to oblige her ; and I will not, cannot, yet part with her." Mrs. Jewkes locked very sullen, and as if she would be glad still to do me a good tui u, if it lay in her power. I took courage then to drop a Word or two for poor Mr. Williams ; but he was angry, and said he could PAMELA. 165 Pamela walks with he< Master l.i the Garden. not endure to hear his name in my mouth ; so 1 was forced to have done, for. that time. All this time my papers that I had buried under the rose-bush, lay there still : I begged leave to send a letter to you. So I should, he said, if he might read it first. But this did not answer my design : and yet I would have sent you such a letter as he might see, if I had been sure my danger was over. But that I cannot ; for he now seems to take another method, and what I am more afraid of, because he may watch an oppor- tunity, and join force with it, when I am least prepared: for now he seems to abound with kindness, and talks of love without reserve, and makes nothing of allowing himself in the, liberty of kissing me, which he calls innocent : but which I do not like, and especially in the manner he does it : but for a master to do it at all to a servant, has meaning too much in it pot to alarm an honest body. WEDNESDAY MOBNINO. ] find I am watched and suspected still very close ; I wish I was with you; but that must not be tins fortnight. I don't like this fortnight, it will be a tedious and a dangerous one to me, 1 doubt. My master just now sent for me down to take a walk with him in the garden ; but I like him not at all, nor his ways ; for he would have his arm about my waist, and said abundance of fond things, enough to make me proud, if his deign had not been apparent. After walking about, he led me into a little alcove, on the farther part of the garden ; amd really made me afrai d of myself ; for he began to be very teasing, and made me sit on his knee ; and was so often kissing me, that I said, " Sir, I don't like to be here at all, 1 assure you. Indeed you make me afraid !" And what made me more so, was what he once said to Mrs. Jewkes, when he did not think I heard him, and which; though always uppermost with me, 1 did not mention before, because I did not know how to bring it in, in my writing. She, I suppose, had been eneouragii.g him in his wickedness; far it was before the last dreadful trial.; and I only heard what he answered. Said he, " I will try once more; hut I have begun wron^: fir I Me terror does but add to her frost : she is a charming girl, mic i ay lie thawed by kindness ; and I should have melted her by love, instead of freezing her by fear." Is he not a sad wicked man for this? To be sure, Irtish while I write it. Bft I trust, that that has delivert-d BW from the paw of the lion and th ' e;r; tlnst i.-, hi> and Mr;. Jewkas's viob nets, will soon de- liver me fiom this PMlistine, that 1 may not defy the eowmmuk- tf ike living God ! N 1 166 PAMELA. Pamela calls her Manet I.nrifciV' But this expression coming into my thoughts, I was of opinion I could not be too much on my guard, at all times ; more especially when b" took such liberties : for he professed honour, while his actions did not correspond. I begged and prayed he would let me go ; and had I not appeared quite regardless of all he said, and resolved not to stay, if I could help it, 1 know not how far he would have proceeded : for I was fenced to fall down upon my knees. At last he walked out with me, still bragging of his honour and his love. ** Yes, yes, Sir," said I, " your honour is to destroy mine ; and your love is to ruin me, I see too plainly. I will not walk with you, Sir," said I, "any more." " Do you know," said he, " whom you talk to, and where you are ?" You may believe I had reason to think him not so decent as he should he ; for I said, " As to where I am, Sir, I know it too well, and that I have no creature to befriend me ; and as to whom I talk to, Sir, let me ask you what you would have me answer ?" " Why, tell me," said he, " what answer would you make ?" " It will only make you angry," said I, " and so I shall fare worse, if possible." ** I won't be angry," said he. " Why, then, Sir," said I, " you cannot be my late good lady's son ; for she loved me, and taught me virtue You cannot be my master ; for no master demeans himself so to his poor servant." He put his arm round me, which made me more angry and held ; and he said, " What then am I ?" " Why," said I (struggling from him, and in a great passion) " to be sure you are Lucifer himself, in the shape of my master, or you could not use me thus."" These are too great liber- ties," said he, in anger ; " I desire that you will not repeat them, for your own sake : for if you have no decency towards me, I'll have none towards you." I was running from him and he said, " Come back, when I bid you." Knowing every place was alike dangerous to me, and I had nobody to run to, I came back at his call ; and seeing him look displeased, I held my hands together, wept, and said, " Pray, Sir, forgive me." " No," said he, " rather say, ' Pray, Lucifer, forgive me :' and now, since you take ! me for the devil, how can you expect any good from me ? How can you expect any thing but the worst treatment from me ? You have given me a character, Pamela ; and blame me not that I act up to it." "Sir," said I, " let me beg you to forgive me : I am really sorry for my boldness ; but indeed you don't use me like a gentleman ; and how- can I express my resentment, if I mince the matter, while you are sc indecent?" PAMELA. 167 * sacs ' ' ., _ , Pamela re*oWes to continue virtuous. " Precise fool '." said he, " what indecencies have I offered you ? I was bewitched I had not gone through my purpose last Sunday night; and then your licentious tongue had not given the worst name to little puny freedoms, that shew my love and my folly at the same time. But, be gone," said he, taking my hand, and tossing it from him, " and learn another conduct, and more wit ; and I will lay aside my foolish regard for you, and assert myself. Begone:" said he again, with a haughty air. " Indeed, Sir," said I, " I cannot go till you pardon me, which I beg on my bended knees. I am truly sorry for my boldness. But I see how you go on .: you creep by little and little upon me ; and now soothe ine, and now threaten me ; and if I should forbear to shew my resentment, when you offer incivilities to me, would not that be to be lost by degrees ? Would it not shew, that I could bear, any thing from you, if I did not express all the indignation I could express, at the first approaches you make to what I dread ? And have you not as good as avowed my ruin ? And have you once made me hope you will quit your purposes against me ? How, then Sir, can I act, but by shewing my abhorrence of every step that makes towards my undoing? And what is left me but wot Js ? And can these words be other than such strong ones, as shall shew the detestation, which from the bottom of my heart I have for every attempt upon my virtue ? Judge for me, Sir, and pardon me." "Pardon you," said he, " when you dont repent ? When you have th boldness to justify yourself in your fault; why don't you say, you never will again offend me ?" " I will endeavour, Sir," said I, " always to pre- serve that decency towards you which becomes me. But really, Sir, I must beg your excuse for saying, that when you forget what belongs to decency in your actions, and when words are all that are left me, to shew my resentment of such actions, I will not promise to forbear the strongest expressions that my distressed mind shall suggest to me ; nor shall your frowns deter me, when my honesty is in question." " What then/' said .lie, " do you beg pardon for? Where is the promise oi amendment, for which I should forgive you ?" Indeed, Sir," said I, " I own, that must absolutely depend on your usage of me -. for I will bear any thing you can inflict upon me with patience, even to the laying down of my life, to shew my obedience to you in other cases ; but I can- not be patient, I cannot be passive, v.bcn my virtue is at stake; It would be criminal in me if I was '." He said he never saw such a fool in his lit*- ! and he w;.Jk'd by the side of me some yards, without saying a word, and seemed vexed ; and at last walked in, bidding me attend him in the garden after dinner. Having a little time, 1 went up, and wrote thus far. N4 1-68 PAMELA. * '",' ' > Pamela's Master bchatrs with great courtesy to her. WEDNESDAY NIGHT. If, my dear parents, I am not destined more surely than ever for ruin, I have now more comfort before me than ever I yet knew : and am either nearer my happiness or misery, than ever I was. God protect me from the latter, if it be his blessed will ! I have now such a scene to open to you, that I know will alarm both your hopes and your fears, as it docs mine. And this it is. After my master had dined, he took a turn into the stables, to look at his stud of horses ; and, when he came in, he opened the parlour-door, where Mrs. Jewkes and I sat at dinner ; and, at his entrance, we both rose up , but he said, '* Sit still, sit still, and let me see how you eat your victuals, Pamela." " Oh," said Mrs. Jewkes, " very poorly, indeed, Sir." "No," said 1, ' pretty well, Sir, considering." " None of your consi- Serings /" said he, * Pretty-face ;" and tapped me on the cheek. I blushed, but was glad he Was so good humoured ; but I could not tell how to sit before him, nor to behave myself. So he said ; " I know, Pamela, you are a nice carver : my mother used to say so." " My lady, Sir," said I, " Was very good to me in every thing, and would always make me do the honours of her table for her, when she was with her few select friends that she loved."" Cut up," said he, " that chicken." I did so. " Now," said he, and took a knife and fork, and put a wing upon my plate, " let me see yott eat that." " O Sir!" said I, " 1 have eat a whole breast of chicken already, and cannot eat so much." But he said 1 must eat it for his sake, and he would teach me to eat heartily : so I did eat it ; but was much confused at his so kind and unusual freedom and condescension. Vou can't imagine how Mrs. Jewkes looked and stared, and how respect- ful she seemed to me, and called me good Madam, I'll assure you, urging me to take a little bit of tart. My master took two or three turns about the room, musing and thought- ful, as I had never before seen him ; aud at last he went out:, saying, " f am goinir into the garden ; you know, Pamela, what 1 said to you before dinner." I rose and curtsied, saying, I would attend his honour. He said, "Do, good girl !" " Well," said Mrs. Jewkes, " I see how things will go. O Madam,'" as she called me again, " 1 am sure you are to be our mistress! And then 1 know what will become of me." "Ah! Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " if I can but keep myself virtuous, it is the most of my ambition : and I hope no temptation shall make me otherwise." Notwithstanding I had no reason to be pleased with his treatment of me before dinner, yet I made haste to attend him. 1 found him walking by the side of that pond, which, for want of grace, and through a sinful despondence, had like to have Leer, so fatal to me ; and the sight of -which, PAMELA. 169 Pamela's Master speaks serionsly to her. ac ever since, has been a trouble and reproach to me. ' And it was by the side of this pond, and not far from the place where I had that dreadful conflict, that my present hopes, if I am not to be deceived again, began to dawn ; which I presume to flatter myself with being a happy omen for me, as if God Almighty would shew your sinful daughter how well I did to put my assistance in his goodness, and not to throw away myself, because my ruin seemed inevitable to my short-sighted apprehension. So he was pleased to say, " Well, Pamela, I am glad you are come of your own accord : give me your hand." I. did so: ahd he looked at me very steadily, and pressing my hand all the time, at last said, "1 will now talk to you in a serious manner. " You have a good deal of wit, a great deal of penetration, much beyond your years, and, as 1 thought, your opportunities. You are possessed of an open, frank, and generous mind ; and a person so lovely, that you excel all your sex, in my eyes. All these accomplishments have engaged my affections so deeply, that, as I have often said, I cannot live without you ; and I would divide, with all my soul, my estate with you, to make you mine upon my own terms. These you have absolutely rejected ; and that, though in saucy terms enough, yet in such a manner, as makes me admire you the more. Your pretty chit-chat to Mrs. Jewkes, the last Sunday night, so innocent, and so full of beautiful simplicity, half dis- armed my resolution : and I see you so watchful over your virtue, that, though I hoped to find it otherwise, I cannot but confess my passion for you is increased by it. Dut now, what shall I say further, Pamela? I will make you, though a party, my adviser in this matter, though not v perhaps, my definitive judge. "You know I am not a very abandoned profligate: 1 have hitherto been guilty of no verv enormous or vile actions. This of confining you thus, may, perhaps, be one of the Worst. Had I been utterly given up to my passions, I should, before now, have gratified them, and not have shewn that remorse and compassion for you, which have reprieved you more than once, when absolutely in my power. " But what can I do ? Consider the pride of my condition. I cannot ''injure the thought of marriage, even with a person of equal or superior degree to myself; and have declined several proposals of that kind how then, with the distance between us in the world's judgment, can I think of making you my wife ? Yet I must have you ; I cannot bear the thoughts of any other man supplanting me in your affections : Che vi ry apprehen- sion has made me hate the name of Williams, and use him in a manner unworthy of my temper. " No vi , Pamela, judge for me; and since I have told yon, thus candidly, ny mind ; and I see your's is big with some important meaning, by yout UO - PAMELA. Mutual Declarations of Pamela and her Master. eyes, your blushes, and that sweet confusion which I behold struggling in yuar bosom, tell me, with like openness and candour, what you think I ought to do, and what you would have me do ?" Jt is impossible for me to express the agitations of my mind, on this unexpected declaration, so contrary to his former behaviour. His manner too had something so noble, and so sincere, as I thought, that, alas for me ! I found I had need of all my poor discretion, to ward off the blow which this treatment gave to my most guarded thoughts. I threw myself at bis feet ; for I trembled and could hardly stand : " O Sir," said I, "Spare your poor servant's confusion'. O spare the poor Pamela!" "Speak nt," said he, M and tell me what you think I ought to do ?" " I cannot say what you ought to do," answered I : " but 1 only beg you will not rain me ; and if you think me virtuous, if you think me sincerely honest, let me go to my poor parents. I will vow to you, that I will never suffer myself to be engaged without your approbation." Still be insisted upon a more explicit answer to his question, of what I thought he ought to do. And 1 said, " As to my thoughts of what you ought to do, I must needs say, that I think you ought to regard the world's opinion, and avoid doing any thing disgraceful to your birth and fortune; and, therefore if you really honour the poor Pamela with your respect, a little time, absence, and the conversation of worthier persons of my sex, will effectually enable you to overcome a regard so unworthy jour condition and this, good Sir, is the best advice I can offer." " Charming creature ! lovely Pamela '." said he (with an ardour that was never before so agreeable to me) " this generous manner is of a piece with all the rest of your conduct. But tell me, still more explicitly, what you would advise me to do in this case ';" "O Sir," said I, "take not advantage of my credulity^ and these my weak moments ; but were I the first lady in the laud, instead of the poor abject Pamela, I would, I could tell you. But I can say no more" O my dear father and mother ! I know you will be concerned for me ; for now I am for myself. And now I begin to be afraid, I know too well the reason, why all his hard trials of me, and my black apprehensions, would not let me bate him. But be assured still, by God's grace, that I shall do nothing unworthy of your Pamela ; and if I find that he is still capable of deceiviug me, and that this conduct is only put on to delude me more, I shall think nothing in this world so vile, and so odious, and nothing so desperately guileful, as the heart of this man. He generously said, ** I will spare your confusion, Pamela. But I hope I may promise myself, that you can love me preferably to any other man ; and that no one in the world has had any share in your affections : for ; PAMELA. 171 Pamela's iVars of her Master's Kindness. am very jealous of what I love; and if I thought you had a secret whis- pering in your soul, that had not yet come up to a wish, for any other man breathing, I should not forgive myself to persist in my affection for you; nor you, if you did" not frankly acquaint me with it." As I still continued on my kness, on the grass border by the pond side, be sat himself down on the grass by me, and took me in his arms ! " Why hesitates my Pamela ?" said he. " Can you not answer me with truth, as I wish ? If you cannot, speak, and I will forgive you." *' O good Sir," said I, " it is not that; indeed it is not ; but a fright- ful word or two that you said to Mrs. Jewkes, when you thought I was not in hearing, comes across my mind, and makes me dread that I am in more danger than ever I was in my life." " You have never found me a common liar," said he, " too fearful and foolish Pamela ! nor will I answer how long I may hold in my present mind : for my pride struggles hard within me, I'll assure you : and if you doubt me, 1 have no obligation to your confidence or opinion. But, at present, I am really sincere in what I say : and I expect you will be so too ; and answer directly my questions." " I find, Sir," said I, ** 1 know not myself; and your question is of such a nature, that I only want to tell you what I heard, and have your kind answer to it ; or else what I have to say to your question may pave the way to my ruin, and shew a weakness that I did not believe was in me." ** Well," said he, " you may say what you have overheard ; for, in not answering me directly, you put my soul upon the rack; and half the trouble 1 have had with you would have brought to my arms one of the finest ladies in England." " O Sir," said I, my virtue is as dear to me as if I was of the highest quality ; and my doubts (for which you know I have had too much rea- son) have made me troublesome. But now, Sir, I will tell you what I heard, which has given me great uneasiness. " You talked to Mrs. Jewkes of having begun wrong with me, in trying to subdue me with terror, and of frost, and such like ; you remember it well : and that you would, for the future, change your conduct, and try to melt me, that was your word, by kindness. " I fear not, Sir, the grace of God supporting me, that any acts of kind- ness would make me forget what I owe to my virtue; but, Sir, 1 may, I find, be made more miserable by such acts, than by terror ; because my nature is too frank and open to make ine wish to be ungrateful : and if I 6bould be taught a lesson 1 never yet learnt, with what regret should I (1* -.tend to the grave, to think that 1 could not hate my utidoer; and that. 172 PAMELA. " , , , ,, . . Pamela's Master's Jealousy of Mr.' Williams. . ,,. f . ,, , ' at the lat great day, I must stand up as an aecuser of the poor unhappy soul that I could wish it in my power to save !" i* Exalted girl !" said he, what- a thought is that! Why^ now, Pa- mela, you excel yourself ! "Voahave given me a hint that will hold me long. Unix, sweet creature," said be, " tell me what is this lesson, which you never yet learnt, and which you are afraid of learning ?" ** If, Sir," said I, " you will again generously spare my confusion, I need not speak it : but this I will say, in answer to the question you seem most solicitous about, that 1 know not the man breathing that I would wish to be married to, or that ever 1 thought of with such an idea. I had brought my mind so to love poverty, that I hopad for nothing but to return to the best, though the poorest of parents ; and to employ myself in serv- ing God, and comforting them ; and you know not, Sir, how you disap- pointed those hopes, and my proposed honest pleasures, when you sent me hither." " Well, then," said he, " 1 may promise myself that neither the parson or any other man is the secret motives to your steadfast refusal of my of- fers ?" f* Indeed, Sir," said I, " you may ; and, as you were pleased to ask, I answer, that I have not ttie least shadow of a wish or thought for any man living." "But," said he (for 1 am foolishly jealous, and yet it shews my fond- ness for you) " have you not encouraged Williams to think you will have him ?" Indeed, Sir," said I, " I have not : but the very contrary." " And would you not have had him," said he, " if you had got away by his means?" " I had resolved, Sir,'\said 1, " in my mind, otherwise ; and he knew it, and the poor man . " " I charge you," said he, "say not a word in his favour. You excite a whirlwind in my soul, rf you name him with kindness : and then you'll be borne away wlththe tempest." " Sir," said I, " I have done!" "'Nay," said he, " but do not have done; let me know the whole. If you have any regard for him, speak out ; for it would end fearfully for you, for me, and for him, if I fount! that you disguised any secret of your soul from me, in this nice particular." "Sir," said I, " rf 1 have ever given you cause to think me sincere " " Say, then," said he, interrupting me with great vehemence, and taking bofh my hands between his, " say that you have not any the most hidden regard for Williams, or any other man." " Sir," said I, " I do most solemnly." " Well," said he, " -J will believe j f ou, Pamela ; and in time, perhaps, T may better bear that man's rknae. And if I am convinced that you are not prepossessed, iny vanity makes me assured, that I need not to fear a place in your esteem, equal, if not preferable, to any man in England. But yet it-stiugs nry pride to PAMELA.^ ITS Pamela's true Cause for applying to Mr. Williams. the quick, that you was so easily brought, and at such a short acquaint- ance, to run away with that college novice!" - t::\ " O good Sir," said I, " may I be heard one thing ? And though i* bring upon me your highest indignation, I will tell you perhaps the un- necessary and imprudent, but yet the whole truth. " My honesty (I am poor and lowly, and am not entitled to call it honour) was in danger. I saw no means of securing myself from your avowed attempts. You had shewed you would not stick at little matters; and what, Sir, could any body have thought of my sincerity, in preferring that to all other considerations, if I had not escaped from those dangers-, if I could have found any way for it ? I am not going to say any thing for him ; but, indeed, indeed, Sir, I was the cause of putting him upon as- sisting me in ray escape. I got him to acquaint me what gentry there were in the neighbourhood that I might fly to ; and prevailed upon him Don't frown at me, good Sir; for I must tell you the -whole truth to ap- ply to one Lady Jones ; to Lady Darnford ; and he was so good as to apply to Mr. Peters, the minister : but they all refused me ; and then it was be let me know that there was no honourable way but marriage. That I declined ; and he agreed to assist me without it." " Now," said he, " you are going " I boldly put my hand aeross his mouth, hardly knowiug the liberty I*took ! " Pray, Sir," said I, " don't be angry ; I have just done, I would only say, that rather than have staid to be ruined,' I would have thrown myself upon the poorest Beggar that ever the world saw, if I thought him honest. And I hope, when you duly weigh all matters, you will forgive me, and not think me so hold- and so forward, as you have been pleased to call me." " Well," said he, " even in this your last speech, which, let me tell you, shews more your bout sty of heart than your prudence, yoi have not over-much pleased me. But I must love you ; and that vexes me. But ;ell me, Pamela, for now the former question recurs; since you so much prize your honour and virtue; since all attempts against that aie so odious to you; and since I have avowedly made several of these attem ;>< ; do you think it is possible for you to love n\e preferably to any other of wy sex ?" "Ah! Sir," said I, " and here my doubt recurs that you may thu graciously use me to take advantage of my credulity." " Still pervi rge and doubting '." said he. " Cannot you take tne a c I am at present ? and tb it, I have told you, is sincere and uudesi whateyer I may be hereafter." " Alt ! Sir," replied I, " what can I s;iy ? I have alrt dy s.iid too much, if this dreadful hereafter should take place. Don't bid me say how well I can " And then, my face glowing as the fire, I, all abashe I, leaned upon his shoulder, to hide my confusion. 174 PAMELA. Pamela'9 Master urges her to confide in him. Ho clasped rae to him with great ardour, and said, " Hide your dear face in my bosom, my beloved Pamela ! your innocent freedoms charm Itae ! But then say, how well what ?" M If you will be good," said I, " to your poor servant, atrd spare her, I cannot say too much ! But if not, I am doubly undone ! Undone indeed !" Said he, " I hope my present temper will hold* ; for I tell you frankly, that I have known in this agreeable hour more sincere pleasure than I have experienced in all the guilty tumults that my desiring soul com- pelled me into, in the hopes of possessing you on my own terms. And, Pamela, you must pray for the continuance of this temper ; and I hope your prayers will get the better of my temptations." This sweet goodness overpowered all my reserves ; I threw myself at his feet, and embraced his knees : " What pleasure, Sir, you give me at these gracious words, is not lent your poor servant to express '. 1 shall be too much rewarded for all my sufferings, if this goodness hold ! God grant it may, for your own soul's sake, as well as mine. And, oh ! how happy shall I be, if " He stopt me, and said, " But, my dear girl, what must we do about the world, and the world's censure ? Indeed, I cannot marry." Now was I again struck all of a heap. However, soon recollecting myself " Sir," said I, '* 1 have not the presumption to hope such an honour. If I may be permitted to return in peace and safety to my poor parents, to pray for you there, it is all I at present request I This, Sir, after all my apprehensions and dangers, will be a great pleasure to me. And if I know my own poor heart, I shall wish you happy in a lady of a suitable degree, and rejoic most sincerely in every circumstance that shall make for the happiness of my late good lady's most be- loved sou." " Well," said be, " this conversation, Pamela, is gone farther than I intended it. You need not be afraid of trusting yourself with me .- I ought to be doubtful of myself, when I am with you ; but before I say any thing further on this subject, I will take my proud heart to task ; and, till then, let every thing be as if this conversation had never passed. Only let me tell yon, that the more confidence you place in me, the more you'll oblige me : but your doubts will only beget cause of doubts." And with this ambiguous saying, he saluted me with a more formal man- ner than before, and lent me his hand : we walked toward the house, side by side, he seeming very thoughtful and pensive, as if he had already repented of his goodness. What shall I do, what steps take, if all this be designing ? O the perplexities of these cruel doubtings ! To be sure, if he be false, 1 have PAMELA. 175 Pamela's Master discharges his Servants for interceding for Pamela. gone too far ! I am, on the apprehension of this, ready to bite my forward tongue (or rather to beat my more forward heart, that dictated to that poor machine) for what I have said. But surely he must be sincere for the time ! He could not be such a practised dissembler! If he could, how desperately wicked is the heart of man ! Aud whene could he learn all these barbarous arts-! If so, it must be native snrely to the sex ! But, silent be my rash censurings ; be hushed, ye stormy tumults of my disturbed mind ; for have I not a father who is a man ? A man who knows no guile ! who would do no wrong ! who would not deceive, or oppress, to gain a kingdom ! How then can I think it is native to, the sex ? And I must also hope my good lady's son cannot be the tcorst of men ! If he is, hard the lot of the excellent woman that bore him ! But much harder the lot of your poor Pamela, who has fallen into such hands ! But I wilr trust in God aud hope the best ; and so lay down- my pen for this time. THyRSDAY MORNING. Somebody rapped at our chamber-door early this morning, my master entered, and said" After you went up stairs, I had an invitation to a ball, which is to be this night at Stamford, on occasion of a weddingj and I am going to call on Sir Simon, his lady and daughters ; for the bride is a relation of theirs : I shall not be at home till Saturday I come therefore to caution you, Mrs. Jewkes, before Pamela (that she may not wonder at being closer confined than for these three or four days past) that nobody sees her, nor de livers any letter to her, in that space ; for a person has been Been harking about, and enquiring after her, and I have been well informed, that either Mrs. Jervis, or Mr. Longman, has written a letter, with a design of having it conveyed to her : and," said he, "you must know, Pamela, that I_have ordered Mr. Longman to give up hW accounts, and have dismissed Jonathan, and Mrs. Jervis, since I have been here; for their' behaviour has been intolerable; they have made such a breach between my sister Davers and me, as we shall never,, perhaps, make up. Now, Pamela, I shall take it kindly in you, if you will confine yourself to your chamber for the time I am absent, and not give Mrs. Jewkes cause of trouble or uneasiness ; as, you know, she acts by my orders. u " Alas ! Sir," said I, " I fear all'these good people have suffered for my sake !" " Why," said he, " I believe so too ; and there never was a girl of your innocence, that set a large family in such an uproar, surely. But let that pass. You know both of you my mind, and, in part, the reason of it. I shall only say, that I have had such a letter from my sister, a s I could not have expected : and Pamela," said he, " neither you nor I have reason to thank her, as you shall know, perhaps, at my return. I go in 176 I'AMKLA. , r.-imttla'* Master goes to a Ball at Stamford. my coach, Mrs.. J jwkes,. because I take Lady Parnford, and Mr. Peters's niece, and one of Lady Darniord's daughters, along with me; and Sir Simon and his other daughter go in his chariot : so let all the gates be fasteued : and don't take any airing in either of the chariots, nor let any body go to the gate, without you, Mrs. Jewkes." " I'll be sure," said she, *' tq obey your honour." " I will give Mrs. Jewkes no trouble, Sir," said ! : " ami will keep pretty much in my chamber, and not stir so much as into the garden without her i to shew you I will obey in every thing 1 can. But I begin to fear " " Ay," said he, " more plots and contrivances, don't you ? Hut I'll assure you, you never bad less reason ; and I tell you the truth ; for I am really going to Stamford, this time ; and upon the occasion I tell you. And so Pamela, give me your hand, and one kiss ; and then I am gone." I durst not refuse, and said, " God bless you, Sir, wherever you go ! But I am sorry for what you tell me about your servants." He and Mrs. Jewkes had a little talk without the door ; and I heard her say, " You may depend, Sir, upon my care and vigilance." He went in his coach, as he said he should, and very richly dressed, which looks as if ;vbat he said was likely : but really I have been used to so maiiy tricks, plots, and surprises, that I know not what to think. But I mourn for poor Mrs. Jervis. So here is parson Williams, poor naughty John, goo 1 Mrs. Jervis, Mr. Longman, and Mr. Jonathan, turned away for me ! Mr. Longman is rich indeed, and so need the less matter it ; but I know it will grieve him : and for poor Mr. Jonathan, I am sure it will cut that good old servant to the heart. Alas for me ! what mischiefs am I the occasion of! Or, rather, my master, whose actions towards me have made so many of my kind friends forfeit his favour for my sake I I am very sad about these things : if -lie really loved me, methinks he should not be so angry that his servants loved me too. I know not what to thiuk ! FRIDAY NIGHT. I have removed my papersjrom under the rose-bush ; for I saw the gardener begin to dig near the spot ; and I was afraid he would find them. Mrs. Jewkes and I were looking yesterday through the iron gate that fronts the elms ; and a gipsy-like body made her way up to us, and said, " If, Madam, you will give rat- some broken victuals, I will tell you both your fortunes." 1 said, " Let us hear our fortunes, Mrs. Jewkes." She 6aid, " I don't like these sort of people : but we will hear what she'll say to us, however. I shan't fetch you any victuals, woman ; but I will give you some pence," said she. But Nan coming out, she said, " Fetch some bread, and some of the cold meat, and you shall have your fortune told, Nan." PAMELA. 177 A Gipsy tells Pamela her Fortune. This you'll think, like some of my other matters, a very 'trifling thing to write about. But mark the discovery of a dreadful plot, which I have made by it. Oh, bless me, what can I think of this naughty, this very naughty gentleman ? Now will I hate him most heartily. Thus it was : Mrs. Jewkes had no suspicion of the woman, the iron gate being locked, she on the outside, and we on the inside : and so put her hand through. She said, muttering over a parcel of cramp words, " Why, Madam, you will marry soon, I can tell you." At that she seemed pleased, and said, " I am glad to hear that ; and shook her fat sides with laughing. The woman looked most earnestly at me, all the time, and as if she had mean- ing. Then it came into my head, from my master's caution, that possibly this woman might be employed to try to get a letter into my hands ; and I was resolved to watch all her motions. So Mrs. Jewkes said, " What sort of a man shall J have, pray ?" " Why," said she, " a man younger than yourself; and a very good husband he'll prove." "1 am glad of that," said she ; and laughed again. " Come, Madam, let us hear your fortune." The woman came to me, and took my hand. " Oh," said she, " I cannot tell your fortune : your hand is so white and fine, I cannot see the lines : but," said she, pulling up a little tuft of grass, " I have a way for that ;" and so rubbed my hand with the mould part of the tuft: " Now," said she, "T can see the lines." Mrs. Jewkes was very watchful of all her ways, and took the tuft, and looked upon it, lest any thing should be in that. And then the woman said, " Here is the line of Jupiter, crossing the line of life ; and Mars Odd! my pretty mistress," said she, " y_ou ad best take care of yourself ; for you are hard beset, I'll assure you. You will never be married, I can see ; and will die of your first child." " Out upon thee, woman !" said I, " better thou hadst never come here." Said Mrs. Jewkes, whispering, " I don't like this : it looks like a cheat pray, Mrs. Pamela, go in this moment." " So I will," said I ; " for 1 have enough of fortunetelling." And in I went. The woman wanted sadly to tell me more, which made Mrs. Jewkes threaten her, suspecting still the more; and away the woman went, having told Nan her fortune that she would he drowned. This thing ran strongly in all our heads; and we went, ati hour after, to see if the woman was lurking about, and took Mr. Colhrand for our guard. Looking through the iron gate, we saw a man sauntering about the middle of the walk, which filled Mrs. Jewkes with still more sus- picions; and she said, " Mr. Colbrand, you and I will walk towards this fellow, and-see what he saunters there for ; atitl Xan, d'j you am! Mada.ni *tay at the gate." 7 o 178 PAMELA. Letter conveyed to t'amela by the Gipsy. So, opening the iron gate, they walked down toward* the man ; and, guessing the woman, if employed, must mean something by the tuft of grass, I east my eye that way, where she pulled it, and saw more grass seemingly pulled up ; then I doubted not something was there for me ; so I walked to it, and standing over it, said to Nan, " That's a pretty sort of wild flower, which grows yonder, near the elm, the fifth from us on the left ; pray pull it for me." Said she, " It is a common weed." " Well," said I, " but pull it for me ; there are sometimes beautiful colours in a weed." While she went on, I stooped and pulled up a good handful of the grass, and in it a bit of paper, which I put instantly in my bosom, and dropped the grass ; and my heart went pitapat at the odd adventure. Said I, " Let's go in, Mrs. Anne." " No," said she ? " we must stay till Mrs. Jewkes comes." I was all impatience to read this paper ; and when Colbrand and she returned, I went in. Said she, " Certainly there is some reason for my master's caution : I can make nothing of this sauntering fellow ; but, to be sure, there was some roguery in the gipsy." " Well," said I, " if there was, she lost her aim, you see." " Ay, very true," said she ; " but that was owing to my watchfulness ; and you was very good to go away when I spoke to you." 1 hasted up stairs to my closet, and found the billet to contain, in a hand that seemed disguised, and bad spelling, the following words : "Twenty contrivances have been thought of to let you know your danger ; but all have proved in vain. Your friends hope it is not yet too late to give you this caution, if it reaches your hands. The squire is ab- solutely determined to ruin you ; and because he despairs of any other way, he will pretend great love and kindness to you, and that he will marry you. You may expect a parson, for this purpose, in a few days ; but it is a sly artful fellow of a broken attorney, that he has hired to per- sonate a minister. The man has a broad face, pitted much with the smallpox, and is a very good companion. So take care of yourself. Doubt not this advice. Perhaps you'll have had but too much reason already to confirm you in the truth of it. From your zealous well-wisher, " Somebody." Now, my dear father and mother, what shall we say of this truly diabo- lical master ! Oh, how shall I find words to paint my grief, and his deceit! I have as good as confessed I love him; but indeed it was on supposing him good. This, however, has given him too much advantage. But now I will break this wicked forward heart of mine, if it will not be taught to hate him ! Oh, what a black dismal heart must he have ! So PAMELA. 179 Sirs. Jewkes seizes Pamela's Joarnal. here is a plot to ruin me, and by my own consent too ! No wonder he did not improve his wicked opportunities (which I thought owing to remorse for his sin, and compassion for me) when he had such a project as this in reserve! Here should 1 have been deluded with the hopes of a happiness that my highest ambition could have aspired to ! But how dreadful must have been my lot, when I had found myself an undone creature, and a guilty harlot, instead of a lawful wife ? Oh ! this is indeed too much for your poor Pamela to support ! I hoped all the worst was over ; and that I had the pleasure of beholding a reclaimed man, and not an abandoned libertine. What must your poor daughter do ? All her hopes now are dashed ! And if this fails him, then comes my forced disgrace '. for this shews he wilt never leave till he has ruined me ! O the wretched, wretched Pamela ! SATURDAY NOON, ONE O'CLOCK. Mv master is come home, and, to be sure, has been where he said. So once he has told truth ; and this matter seems to be gone off without a plot : no doubt he depends upon his sham wicked marriage ! He has brought a gentleman with him to dinner ; and so I have not seen him yet two o'clock. 1 am very sorrowful, and still I have greater reason ; for just now, as I was in my closet, opening the parcel I had hid under the rose-bush, to see if it was damaged by lying so long, Mrs. Jewkes came upon me by surprise, and laid her hands upon it ; for she had been looking through the keyhole, it seems. I know not what I shall do '. For now he will see all my private thoughts of him, and all my secrets, as I may say! What a careless creature I am ! To be sure I deserve to be punished. You know 1 had the good luck, by Mr. Williams's means, to send you all my papers, down to Sunday night, the 17th day of my imprisonment But now these papers contain all my matters from that time, to Wednes- day, the 27th day of my distress ; and which, as you may now perhaps never see, 1 will briefly mention the contents to you. In these papers, then, are included, an account of Mrs. Jewkes's arts to draw me in to approve of Mr. Williams's proposal for marriage ; and my refusing to do so ; and desiring you not to encourage his suit to me. Mr. Williams being wickedly robbed, and a visit of her's to him j whereby she Qiscovered all his secrets. How I was inclined to get off, while she was gone, but was ridiculously prevented by my foolish fears, &c. My having the key of the back-door. Mrs. Jewkes's writing to my master alJ the secrets sh had discovered of Mr. Williams . and > I gave her this note to carry to him. He sent word that I must keep my promise, and he would give me till morning: but that I must bring them to him without hi^ .isking again. 1 will slightly touch upon the subjects, because I may not, perhaps. g'T them again for you to see. They begin with an account of my attempting to get away out ol ii, window first, and then throwing my petticoat and handkerchief into ib< {.oud How aii)\ I was disappointed, the lo< k of the back-door bciiij 188 PAMELA. The Contents of two more Parcels of Pamela's Journal. changed. In trying to climb over the door, I tumbled down, and was piteously bruised ; the bricks giving way, and tumbling upon me. Finding I could not get off, and dreading the hard usage I should receive, I was v / so wicked as to tbink of throwing myself into the water. My sad reflec- tions upon this matter. How Mrs. Jewkes used me upon this occasion. How my master had like to have been drowned in hunting ; and my con- cern for his danger, notwithstanding his usage of me. Mrs. Jewkes's wicked reports to frighten me, that I was to be married to the ugly Swiss, who was to sell me, on the wedding-day, to my master. Her vile way of talking to me, like a London prostitute. My apprehensions on seeing pre- parations made for my master's coming. Her causeless fears that I was trying to get away again, when I bad no thoughts of it ; and my bad usage upon it. My master's dreadful arrival, and his hard, very hard treatment of me; and Mrs. Jewkes insulting me. His jealously of Mr. Williams and me. How Mrs. Jewkes vilely instigated him to wickedness. And down to here I put into one parcel, hoping it would content him. But, for fear it should not, I put into another parcel the following : namely, A copy of his proposals to me, of a great parcel of gold, fine clothes, and rings, and an estate of I can't tell what a year : and fifty pounds a year for the life of both you, my dear parents, to be his mistress ; with an insinuation that lie would marry meat a year's end : all sadly vile : threat- ening, if I did not comply, to ruin me without allgwing me any thing. A copy of my answer, refusing all, with just abhorrence : but begging at last his goodness and mercy towards me, in the most moving manner I c*uld think of. An account of his angry behaviour, and Mrs. Jewkes's wicked advice hereupon. His trying to get me to his chamber ; and my refusal to go. A deal of stuff and chitchat between me and the odious Mrs. Jewkes, in which she was very wicked and insulting. Two notes I wrote, as if to be carried to church, to pray for his reclaiming, and my safety, which Mrs. Jewkes seized, and officiously shewed him. A con- fession of mine, that, notwithstanding his bad usage, I could not hate him. My concern for Mr. Williams. A horrid contrivance of my master's to ruin me; being in my room, disguised in the maid's clothes, who slept with me and Mrs. Jewkes. How narrowly I escaped (it makes my heart ache to think of it !j by falling into fits. Mrs. Jewkes's detestable part in this affair. How he seemed moved at my danger, forbore his abominable designs, and assured me he had offered no indecency. How ill I was for a day or two after, and how kind he seemed. How he made me forgive Mrs. Jewkes. How, after this, and great kindness pretended, he made rude offers to me in the garden, which 1 escaped. Howl resented them. Then 1 had written, how kind he was to me, praised me, and gave me great hopes of his being good at last. Of the too tender impression this made PAMELA. 189 Pamela attends her Master ill the Garden with some more of her Journal. upon me ; and how I began to be afraid of my own weakness and considera- tion for him, though he had used me so ill. Howsadly jealous he was of Mr. Williams ; and how I, as I justly could, cleared myself as to his doubts on that score. How, when he had raised me up to the highest hope of his goodness, he again deceived me, and went off more coldly. My free re- flections upon this trying occasion. This brpught down matters from Thursday, the 20th day of my impri- sonment, to Wednesday, the 41st. Here I was resolved to end, let what would come ; for only Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, remains to give an account of. Thursday he set out to a ball at Stamford ; Friday was the gipsy story; and this is Saturday, his return from Stamford. Truly, I shall have but little heart to writu, if he is to see all. These two parcels of papers I have got ready for him against to-morrow morning. I have always used him very freely in my writings, and shewed him no mercy; but he must thank himself for it; as I have only written truth ; and I wished he had deserved a better character at my hands, as well fur his own sake as mine. I don't know whether you'll ever see what I write, yet I must say, that I will go to bed, remembering you in my prayers, as I always do, and as I know you do me : so, my dear parents, good night. A> < SUNDAY MORNING. ] remembered what he said, of not being obliged to ask again for my papers ; and what I should be forced to do, I thought I would do in such a manner as might shew I would not disoblige on purpose : though I 6tomached this matter very heavily. I therefore got in readiness my two parcels ; and he, not going to church in the morning, hid Mrs. Jewkes tell me he was gone into the garden. I knew that was for me to go to him ; and so I went : for how can I help being at his beck! which grieves me not a little, though he is my master. I am wholly in his power, and it would do me no good to incense him ; if I refused to obey in little matters, my refusal in greater would have the less weight. So I went down to the garden ; hut as he walked in one walk, I took another, that I might not seem too forward. He soon spied me, and said " Do you expect to be courted to come tome?" "Sir," said F, crossing the walk to attend hinl, " 1 did not know but I should interrupt you in your meditations this good day." " Was that the case,'' said he, " truly, and from your heart .'" " Why, Sir," said I, " I don't dcubt but you have very good thoughts sornetiun.s ; though not towards me." " I wish," said he, " 1 could avoid thinking so well of you as I do. But where .ire the papers ? I dare say you had them about you yesterday; for you say inthose I have, that you will bury juur 190 PAMELA. Pamela gives her Master another Parcel of her Journal. writings in the garden, lest you should be searched, if you did not escape. This," added he, " gave me a glorious pretence to search you ; and I have been vexing myself all night, that 1 did not." " O fie, Sir," said I, let me not be scared, with bearing that you had such a thought in earnest." " Well," said he, " I hope you have not now the paper* to give me : for I had rather find them myself, I'll assure you." I did not like this way of talk, at all ; and thinking it best not to dwell upon it, said" Well, but, Sir, you will excuse me, I hope, giving up my papers." *i Don't trifle with me," said he : ** where are they ? I think I was very good last night, to honour you as I did. If you have either added or diminished, and not strictly kept your promise, woe be to you!" " Indeed, Sir," said I, " I have neither added nor diminished. Here is the parcel that goes on with my sad attempt to escape, and the terrible consequences which might have followed. It goes down to the naughty articles you sent me ; and as you know all that has happened since, I hope these will satisfy you." , He was going to speak; but I said, to drive him from thinking of any more " I must beg you, Sir, to read the matter favourably, if I have ex- ceeded in any liberties of my pen." "I think," said he, half smiling, "you may wonder at my patience, that I can be so easy to read myself abused as 1 am by such a saucy slut." " Sir," said I, " I have wondered you should be so desirous to see my bold stuff; and, for that very reason, I have thought it a very good or a very bad sign." " What," said he, " is your good sign ?" " That it may have an effect upon your temper, at last, in my favour, when you see me so sincere." " Your bad sign." " Why, that if you can read my reflec- tions and observations upon your treatment of me, with tranquillity-, and not be moved, it is a sign of a very cruel and determined heart. Now, pray, Sir, don't be angry at my boldness, in telling you so freely my thoughts." " You may, perhaps," said he, " be least mistaken, when you think of your bad sign." " God forbid !" said I. So I took out my papers, and said " Here, Sir, they are. But if you please to return them, without breaking the seal, it will be very generous : and I will take it as a great favour, and a good omen." He broke the seal instantly and opened them : '* So much for your omen!" replfed lie. " I am sorry for it," said I, very seriously; and was walking away. " Whither now ?" said he. " I was going in, Sir, that you might have time to read them, if you thought fit." He put them into his pocket, and said " You have more than these." "Yes, Sir; but all they contain, you know as well as I."" But I don't know," said PAMELA. 191 Pamela's Master reasons on the Danger of her Attempt to escape. he, "the light you put things in : so give them me, if you have not a mind to be searched." " Sir," said I, " I can't stay, if you won't forbear that ugly word." " Give me then no reason for it. Where are the other papers ?" " Why, unkind Sir, if it must be so, here they are ; and I gave him, out of my pocket, the second parcel, sealed up, as the former, with this superscrip- tion : " From the naughty articles, down through sad attempts, to Thursday, the 4 c 2d day of my imprisonment." " This is last Thursday, is it ?" " Yes, Sir ; but now you will see what I write, I shall find some other way to employ my time, for how can I write with any face, what must be for your perusal, and not for those I intended to read rny melancholy stories ?" " Yes," said he, " I would have you continue your writing, by all means ; and I will not ask you for any after these ; except any thing very extra- ordinary occurs. I have another thing to tell you," added he, " that if you send for those from your father, and let me read them, 1 may, very probably, give all back again to you." This a little encourages me to continue my scribbling ; but, for fear of the worst, I will, when they come to any bulk, contrive to hide them, if I can, that I may protest I have them not about me, which before I could not, and that made him so resolutely bent to try to find them upon me ; for which I might have suffered frightful indecencies. He then led me to the side' of the pond: and, sitting down on the slope, made me sit by him. " Come," said he, " this being the scene of part of your project, where you so artfully th^rew in some of jour clothes, I will just look upon that part of your relation." " Sir," said, I " let me, then, walk about at a little distance ; for I cannot bear the thought of it." " Don't go far," said he. When he came, as 1 suppose, to the place where I mentioned the bricks falling upon me, he got up, and walked to the door, and looked upon the broken part of the wall ; for it had not been mended ; then came back, reading on to himself, towards me ; took my hand, and put it under his arm. " Why this," said he, "my girl is a very moving tale. It was a despe- rate attempt, and, had you got out, you might have. been in great danger ; for you had a very bad and Unely way ; and I had taken such measures, been where you would, I should have bad you." " You may sec, Sir," said J, " what i ventured, rat iter than be ruined ; and you will be so good as hence to judge of the sincerity of my profes- sion, that my honesty is dearer to me than my life." " Romantic girt !'* said he, and read on. He was very serious at my reflections, on what God had enabled me to 19<2 PAMELA. Pamela's Master, overcome by her Narrative, makes fair Promises. escape. And when he came to my reasonings about throwing myself into the water, he said, " Walk, gently before :" and seemed so moved, that he turned his face from ine.: and I blessed this good sign, nor did so much repent at his seeing this mournful part of my story. He put the papers in his pocket, when he had read my reflections, and thanks for escaping from myself; and said, taking me about the waist " O my dear girl ! you have touched me sensibly with your mournful relation, and sweet reflections upon it. I should truly have been misera- ble, had it taken effect. I see f ou have been used too roughly ; and it is a mercy you stood proof in that fatal moment." Then he most kindly folded me in his arms : " Let us, my Pamela, walk from this accursed piece of water ; for I shall not with pleasure look upon it again, to think how near it Mas fatal to my fair one. 1 thought," added he, " of terrifying you to my will, since I could not move you by love ; and Mrs. Jewkes too well obeyed me, when the terrors of your return, after your disappointment were so great, that you had hardly courage to withstand them ; but had like to have made so fatal a choice, to escape the treatment you apprehended." " Sir," said I, " 1 have reason to bless my dear parents, and my good lady your mother, for giving me a religious education ; but for that, and God's grace, I should, more than upon one occasion, have attempted a desperate act v I tha less wonder how poor creatures, who have not the fear of God before their eyes, and give way to despondency, cast them- selves into perdition." " Come, kiss nie," sai 1 he, " and tell me you forgive me, for exposing you to so much danger and distress. If I can see those former papers of yours, and these in my pocket give me no cause to alter my opinion, I will endeavour to d efy t he world and its censures, and make my Pamela amends, if in the power of my whole life, for all the hardships I have made her undergo." All this looked well : but you shall see how strangely it turned. For this sham marriage came into my head again : and I said " Your poor servant is far unworthy of this great honour : what will it be but to create envy to herself, and disci edit to you ? Therefore, Sir, permit me to return to my poor parents ; and that is all I ask." He was in a fearful passion then. " And, is it thus," said he, " in my fond conceding moments, that I am to be answered and despised ? Per- verse, unreasonable Pamela '. be gone from my sight, and know as well how to behave in a hopeful prospect, as in a distressful state ; then, and not till then, shalt thou attract my notice." I was startled, and going to speak, but he stamped with his foot, and said, " Be gone y I tell you, I cannot bear this stupid romantic folly." PAMELA. 193 Pamela prepares to go Home. " One word," said I ; " but one word, I beseech you, Sir." He turned from me in great wrath, and took down another alley, and I went in, with a very heavy heart. I fear I was too unseasonable, just at a time when he was so condescending, but if it was a piece of art on his side, as I apprehended, to introduce the sham wedding (for he is full of stratagem and art) I think I was less to blame. So I went up to ray closet ; and wrote thus far, while he walked about till dinner was ready ; he is now sat down to it, as I hear by Mrs. Jewkes, very sullen, thoughtful, and out of humour : and she asks, what I have done to him. Now, again I dread to see him ! When will my fears be over ? THREE O'CLOCK. Well, he continues exceedingly wroth. He has ordered his travelling chariot to be got ready with all speed. What is to come next, I wonder ! Sure I did not say so much ! But see the lordliness of a high condition ! A poor body must not put in a word, when they take it in their heads to be angry ! What a fine time a person of an equal condition would have of it, if she were even to marrysuch an one : his poor dear mother spoiled him at first. Nobody must speak to, or contradict him^ as I have heard, when he was a child ; and so he has not been used to be controlled, and cannot bear the least thing to cross his violent will. This is one of the blessings attending meu of high condition ! Much good may it do them with their pride of birth, and pride of fortune ! say I : all that it serves for, as far as I can see, is, to multiply their disquiets, and every body's else who has to do with them. So, so '. where will this end ? Mrs. Jewkes has been with me from him, and says, I must get out of the house this moment. " Well," said I ; " but whither am I to be carried next ?" " Why, home," said she, " to your father and mother."" And can it be ?" said I : " no, no, I doubt I shall not be so happy as that!- To be sure some bad design is on foot again '.Sure," said I, " Mrs. Jewkes, he has not found out some other housekeeper worse than you I" She was very angry, you may well think. But I know she can't be made worse than she is. She came up again. " Are you ready ?" said she. "Bless me!" said I, " you are very hasty : I have heard of this not a quarter of an hour ago. But 1 shall be soon ready ; for I have but little to take with me, and no kind friends in this house to take leave of to delay me. Vet, like a fool, I can't help crying. Pray," said I, "just step down, and a,k if 1 may not have my papers." I am quite ready now, against she comes up with an answer ; and I will put up these few writings in my bosom that 1 have left. 1 don't know what to think nor how to judge ; but I shall nu'er 67 v 194 PAMELA. I'amela piepmfs to go Home. believe I am with you, till I am on my knees before yon, begging both your blessings. Yet I am sorry he is so angry with me. I thought I did not say so much. There is, 1 see, the* chariot drawn out, the horses too, and the grim Colbrand going to get on horseback. What will be the end of all this ? MONDAY. /, Well, where this will end, I cannot say. But here I am, at a little poor village, almost such an one as yours '. I shall learn the name of it by- and-by : *and Robin assures me he has orders to carry me to you, my dear father, and mother. Oh; that he may not deceive me again ! But, having nothing else to do, and I am sure I shall not sleep a wink to-night, if I was to go to bed, 1 will write my time away, and take up my story where I left off, on Sunday afternoon." Mrs. Jewkes came up to me, with this answer about my papers : " My- master says he will not read them yet, lest he should be moved by any thing in them to alter his resolution. But if he should read them, he will send them to you afterwards, to your father's. But," said she, " here are your guineas 1 borrowed : for all is over with you, I find. She saw me cry, and said, " Do you repent ?" " Of what ?" said t. " Nay, I can't tell," replied she ; " but to be sure he has had a taste of your satirical flings, or he would not be so angry. So," continued she, and held up her hand, " thou hast a spirit ! But I hope it will now be brought down." " 1 hope so too," said I. " Well," added I, " I am ready." She lifted up the window, and said, " I'll call Robin to take your portmanteau : bag and baggage !" proceeded she, " I'm glad you're going." " I have no words," said I, " to throw away upon you, Mrs. Jewkes : but," making her a very low curtsey, " I most heartily thank you for all your virtuous civilities to me, and so adieu ; for I'll have no portmanteau, I'll assure you, nor any thing, but these few things I have brought with me in my handkerchief, besidts what I have on." For I had all this time worn my own bought clothes, though my master would have had it otherwise j howeyer, I put up paper, ink, and pens. As I passed by the parlour, she stepped in, and said, "Sir, you have nothing to say to the girl, before she goes ?" I heard him reply, though I did not see him, " Who bid you say the girl, Mrs. Jewkes, in that man- ner ? She has offended only me," " I beg your honour's pardon," said the wretch ; "but if I was your ho- nour, she should not, for all the trouble she has cost you, go away scot- free." " No more of this, as I told you before," said he : " what! when I have such proof that her virtue is all her pride, shall I rob her of that ? PAMELA. 195 . . , . Pamela sets out for her Home. No," added he, " let her go, perverse and foolish as she is ; hut she deserves to go honest, and she shall go so !" ' m I was so transported with this uexjpected goodness, that I opened the door before I knew what I did ; and said, falling on my knees, with my hands folded ami lifted up, " O thank your honour a million of times ! . May God bless you, for this instance of your goodness to me ! I will pray for you r-s long as I live, and so shall my dear father and mother. And Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " I will pray for you too, poor wicked wretch that you are." He turned from me, went into his closet, and shut the door. He need not have done so ; for I would not have gone nearer to him. Surely I did not say so much, to incur all this displeasure. I think I was loath to leave the house. Can you believe it ? What could be the matter with me, I wonder? I felt something so strange at my heart : I wonder what ailed me? But this was so unexpected ! I believe that was all. Vet I am very strange still. Surely I cannot be like the old murmuring Israelites, to long after the onions and garlic of Egypt, when they had suffered there such heaVy bondage ? I'll take thee, O contradictory, ungovernable heart, to severe task, for this thy strange i-mpulse, when I get to my denr father and mother's ; and if I find any thing in thee that should not be, depend upon it, thou shalt be humbled, if strict abstinence, prayer, and mortification will do it. But yet, after all, this last goodness of his has touched me too sensibly. I almost wish I had not heard it ; yet, methinks, I am glad I did ; for I should rejoice to think the best of him, for his own sake. Well, I went out to the chariot, the same that brought me down. " So, Mr. Robert," said I, " here I am again; a poor sporting piece for the great! a n.ere tennis-ball of Fortune. You have your orders, I hope." " Yes, Madam," said he. " Fray, now," said I, " don't Madam me, nor stand with your hat off to such an one as I." " Had not my master," said he, "ordered me not to be wanting in respect to you, I would have shewn you all I could." " Well," said I, with my heart full, " that's very kind, Mr. Robert." Mr.'Colbrand, mounted on horseback, with pistols before him, came up to me, as soon as I got in, with Aw hat off too. " What, Monsieur '." said I, " are you to go with me ?" " Part of the way," he said, " to see you safe." " 1 hope that's kind, too, in you, Mr. Colbrand," said I. I had nobody to wave my handkerchief to, nor take leave of ; and I resigned myself to my contemplations, with this strange wayward heart of mine, which I never found so ungovernable and awkward before. So away drove the chariot ! And when I had got out of the elm-walk, hito the great road, I could hardly think but I was in a dream all the time. 2 196 PAMELA. Colbrand gives Pamela a Letter from her Master. A few hours before, in my master's arms almost, with twenty kind things said to me, and a generous concern for the misfortunes he had brought upon me, and only by one rash half word exasperated against me, and turned out of doors at an hour's warning ; and all his kindness changed, to hate ! And I now, from three o'clock to five, several miles off! But if I am going to you, all will be well again, I hope. Lack-a-day, what strange creatures are men ! gentlemen, I should say rather ! For my dear deserving good mother, though poverty be both your lots, has had better hap, and you are, and have always been, blest in one another '. Yet this pleases me too ; he was so good, he would not let Mrs. Jewkes speak ill of me, and scorned to take her odious unwomanly atlvice. Ob, what a black heart has this poor wretch '. So I need not rail agaiust men so much ; for my master, bad as I have thought him, is not half so bad as this woman. To be sure she must be an atheist ? Do you think she is not ? We could not reach further than this little poor place and sad alehouse, rather than inn ; for it began to be dark, and Robin did not make so much haste as he might have done ;. and he was forced to make hard shift for his horses. Mr. Colbrand, and Robert too, are very civil. I see he has got my port- manteau lashed behind the chariot. I did not desire it ; but I shill not come quite destitute. A thorough riddance of me, I see bag and bag- gage, as Mrs. Jewkes says. Well, my story, surely, would furnish out a surprising kind of novel, if well told. Mr. Robert came just now, and begged me to eat something: I thanked him, but said I could not eat. I bid him ask Mr. Colbrand to walk up ; and he came ; but neither of them would sit ; nor put their hats on. What mockado is this, to such a poor soul as N I asked them, if they were at liberty to tell me the truth of what they were to do with me ? If not, I would not desire it. They both said, Robin was ordered to carry me to my father's ; and Mr. Colbrand was to leave me within ten miles, and then strike off for the other house, to wait my master's arrival. They both spoke so solemnly, I could not but believe them. But when Robin went down, the other said, he had a letter to give me next day at noon, when we were to bait at Mrs. Jewkes's relation's. " May 1 not," said I, " beg the favour to see it to-night ?" He seemed so loath to deny me, that I have hopes to prevail on him by-and-by. Well, my dear father and mother, 1 have got the letter on great pro- mises of secrecy, and making no use of it. I will try if I can open it without breaking the seal, and will take a copy of it by-and-by ; for Robin is in and out ; there being hardly any room in this little house, to be long alone. Well, this is the letter : PAMELA. 197 Letter delivered to Pamela orj the Road. " When these lines are delivered to you, you will be far on your way to your father and mother, where you have so long desired to be ; and I hope, I shall forbear thinking of you with the least shadow of that fond- ness my foolish heart had entertained for you. I bear you no ill-will; but the end of my detaining you being over, I would not that you should tarry with me an hour after the ungenerous preference you gave, at a time I was inclined to pass over all other considerations, for an honour- able address to you ; for well I found the tables entirely turned upon me, and that I was in far more danger from you, than you were from me ; for I was just upon resolving to defy all the censures of the world, and to make you my wife. " I will acknowledge another truth : That had I not parted with you as I did, but permitted you to stay till I had read your journal, reflecting, as I doubt not I shall find it, and heard your bewitching pleas in your own behalf, I feared I could not trust myself with my own resolution. And this is the reason, I frankly own, that determined me not to see you, nor hear you speak ; for well I know my weakness in your favour. " But I will get the better of this fond folly : nay, I hope I have al- ready done it, since it was likely to cost me so dear. And I write this to tell you, that I wish you well wit all my heart, though you have spread such mischief through my family. Vet I cannot but say that I could wish you not to think of marrying in haste; and particularly not to have this cursed Williams. But what is all this to me now ? Only, my weakness makes me say, that as I had already looked upon you as mine, and you have so soon got rid of your first husband, you will not refuse to my memory the decency every common person observes, to pay a twelve- month's compliment, though but a mere compliment, to my ashes. " Your papers shall be faithfully returned ; and I have paid so dear for my curiosity, in the affection they have rivetted upon me for you, that you would look upon yourself amply revenged, to know what tbey have cost me. " I thought of writing only a few lines, but 1 have run into length. I will now try to recollect my scattered thoughts, and resume my reason : and shall find trouble enough to replace my affairs, and my wn family, and to supply the chasms you have made in it : for let me tell you, though I can forgive you, I never can my sister, nor my domestics ; for my ven- geance must be wreaked somewhere. " I doubt not your prudence in forbearing to expose me any more than is necessary for your own justification ; and for that I will suffer myself to be accused by you ; and will also accuse myself, if it be needful. For 1 am, and ever will be, your affectionate well-wisher." 196 PAMELA. Sensations excited in Pamela by her Master's Letter. This letter, when I expected some new plot, has affected me more t h ut any thing of that sort could have done. His great value for me 'is here - confessed, and his rigorous behaviour accounted for in such a manner, as tortures me much. This wicked gipsy story is a forgery on us both, and has quite ruined me. My dear parents, forgive me ! but I found, before, to my grief, that my heart was too partial in bis favour ; but now, with so much openness, affeetian, and honour too (which was all I had doubted) I am quite overcome. This was a happiness, however, 1 had no reason to expect. But I must own to you, that I shall never be able to think of any body in the world but him. " Presumption," you will say ; and so it is ; but love is not a voluntary thing -Lqye^did I say But come, it is not, I hope, gone so far as. to make me very uneasy: for I know not how it came, nor when it began ; but it has crept, like a thief, upon me, before I knew what was the matter. I wish, since it is too late, and my lot determined, that I had not had this letter, nor heard him take my part to the vile woman : for then \ , should have blessed myself, in having escaped, so happily, his designing arts upon my virtue ; but now, my poor mind is all topsyturvied, and I have made an escape, to be more a prisoner. But I hope that all is for the best : and I shall, with your prudent advice and pious prayers, be able to overcome this weakness. But, my dear Sir, I will keep a longer time than a twelvemonth, as a true widow, for a compliment, and more than a compliment, to your ashes ! O the dear word ! How kind, how moving, how affectionate is the word ! Why was 1 not a duchess, to show my gratitude for it ? But must labour under the weight of an obligation, even had this happiness befallen me, that would have pressed me to death, and which I never could return by a whole life of faithful love, and cheerful obedience ! Forgive your poor daughter ! I am sorry to find this trial so sore upon me ; and that all the weakness of my sex and tender years is come upon me, and too mighty to be withstood by me. But time, prayer, and resig- nation to God's will, and the benefits of your good lessons and examples, I hope, will enable me to get oyer this heavy trial. O my treacherous heart to serve me thus ! and give me no notice of the mischiefs thou wast about to bring upon me ! But thus foolishly to give thysejf up to the proud invader, without consulting thy poor mistress in the least ? But thy punishment will be the first and the greatest: and well deservest thou to smart, perfidious traitor I for giving up so weakly thy whole self, before a summons came, and to one who had used me so hardly; and when, too, thou hadst so well maintained thy post against the most violent and avowed,audtherefore,as I thought, more dangerous attacks I PAMELA. 199 . 1 ' . ' Pamela's Master sends after her. After all, I must either not shew you tbia my weakness, or tear it out of my writing. Memorandum, to consider of this when I get home, MONDAY MORNINO, ELEVEN O'CLOCK. We are just come to the inn kept here by Mrs. Jewkes's relation. The ** first compliment I had, was in a very impudent manner. How I liked the squire! I could not help saying, " Bold, forward woman ! is it for you, whfc keep an inn, to treat passengers thus ?" She was but in jest, she said, and asked pardon : and she came and begged excuse again, very abusively, after Robin and Mr. Colbrand had talked to her a little. The latter, in great form, now gave me, before Robin, the letter I had given him back for that purpose. 1 retired, as if to read it ; and so I did ; for I think I can't read it too often ; though for my peace of mind's sake, 1 had better fffrget it. I am sorry i cannot bring you back a sound heart ; but it is an honest one to any body but me, for it has.deceived no body else. More and more surprising things still Just as I had sat down to eat a bit of victuals, to get ready for my journey, came in Mr. Colbrand, in & mighty hurry. " O Madam ! Madam '." said he, " here be de groom from de Squire B. all over in a lather, man and horse !" Oh, how my heart went pitapat '. " What now," thought 1, *' is to come next !" He went out, and presently returned whli a letter for me, and another, inclosed, for Mr. Colbrand. This seemed odd, and put me all in a trembling. So 1 shut the door ; and never, sure, was the like known ! found the following agreeable contents : f* In vain, my Pamela, do I struggle against my affection for you. I must needs, after you were gone, venture to entertain myself with your journal. When I found Mrs. .Tv wkes's bad usage of you, after your dread- ful temptations and hurts ; and particularly your generous concern on hearing how narrowly I escaped drowning (though my death would have been your freedom , and I had made it your interest to wish it ;) and your most agreeable confession in another place, that, notwithstanding all my hard usage, you could not hale me ; expressed in so sweet, so soft, and in- nocent a manner, that I (latter myself you may be brought to love me (toge- ther with the rest of your admirable journal :) I began to repent my part- ing with you ; and, I assure you, for no unlawful end, as you would call it ; but the very contrary : as all this was improved jn your favour by your behaviour at leaving my house ; forO that melodious voice praying for me at your departure, and thanking me for my rebuke to Mrs. Jew keg, still dwells upon my ears, and delights my memory. I went to bed, but could not rest ; about two I arose, and made Thomas get one of the best horsei ready, in order to overtake you, while I sat down to write. " Now, my denr Pamela, let me beg of you, on receipt of this, to order r 4 200 PAMELA. Letter delivered to Pamela by the Servant seut after her. Rubin to drive you back again to my house. I would have set out myself, for the pleasure of bearing you company back in the chariot ; but am really indisposed ; I believe, with vexation that I parted thus with my soul's delight, as I now find you are, and must be, in spite of the pride of my own heart. " You cannot imagine the obligation your return will lay me under to your goodness ; and yet, if you will not so far favour me, you shall be under no restraint, as my letter inclosed to Colbrand will shew, which I have not sealed, that you may read it. But spare me, my dearest girl, the confusion of following you to your father's : which L roust do, if you persist to go on ; for I find I cannot live a day without you. " If you are the generous Pamela I imagine you to be (for hitherto you have been all goodness, where it has not been merited) let me then see the further excellence of your disposition, that you can forgive the man who loves you more than himself; let me see by it, that you are not prepos- sessed in any other person's favour: one instance more I would beg, and then I am all gratitude ; which is, that you would dispatch Monsieur Colbrand with a letter to your father, assuring him that all will end hap- pily ; and to desire that he will send to you, at my house, the letters you conveyed to him by means of Williams. And when I have all my proud, and perhaps punctilious doubts answered, I shall have nothing to do but to make you happy, and be so myself. For 1 must be yours, and only yours." MONDAY^MORNING, NEAR THREE O'CLOCK. my exulting heart ! how it throbs in my bosom, as if it would reproach me for so lately upbraiding it for giving way to the love of so dear a gen- tleman. " But take care thou art not too credulous, neither, O fond be- liever ! Things that we wish are apt to gain a too ready credence with us. This sham marriage is not yet cleared up : the vile Mrs. Jewkes may yet instigate the mind of this master : his pride of heart and condition may again take place ; and a man that could, in so little a space, first love me, then hate, then banish me his house, and now send for me again, in such affectionate terms, may still waver, may still deceive thee. Therefore will I not acquit thee yet, O credulous, fluttering, throbbing mischief ! that art so ready to believe what thou wishest : I charge thee to keep better guard than thou hast lately done, and lead me not to follow too implicitly thy flattering and desirable impulses." Thus foolishly dialogued I with my heart ; and yet, all the time, this heart is Pamela. 1 opened the letter to Monsieur Colbrand ; which was in these words: " MONSIEUR, " I am sure you'll excuse the trouble I give you. I have, for good reasons, changed my mind ; and I have besought it, as a favour, that Mm. PAMELA. 201 Pamela resolves to return to her Master. Andrews will return to me the moment Tom reaches you. I hope, for the reasons I have given her, that she will have the goodness to oblige me. But, if not, you are to order Robin to pursue his directions, and set her down at her father's door. If she will oblige me in her return, perhaps she'll give you a letter to her father, for some papers to be delivered to you for her ; which you'll be so good, in that case, to bring to her here ! but if she will not give you such a letter, return with her to me, if she please to favour ineso far, with all the expedition her health and safety will permit ; for I am rather indisposed, but hope it will soon go off. I am yours, &c. " On second thoughts, let Tom go forward with Mrs. Andrews's letter, if she pleases to give one ; and you return with her, for her safety." Now this is a dear generous manner of treating me. Oh, how I love to be generously used ! Now, my dear parents, I could wish to consult you how to act. Should I go back, or should I uot ? I doubt he has too great hold in my heart, for me to be easy presently, if 1 should refuse : and yet the gipsy information makes me fearful. Well, I will, I think, trust in his generosity! Yet is it not too great a trust .'especially considering how I have been used ! But that was while he vowed his bad designs ; and now he gives great hope of his good ones. I may be the means of making many happy, as well as myself, by placing a generous confidence in him. And then, I think, he might have sent to Colbrand, or to Robin, to carry me back, whether I would or not. And how different his behaviour to that ! Would it not look as if I was prepossessed, as he calls it, if I don't oblige him : and a silly female piece of pride to make him follow me to my father's, and as if I would use him hardly in my turn, for having used me ill in his t Upon the whole, I resolved to obey him, and if he uses me ill afterwards, double will be his ungenerous guilt. Though hard my lot, to have my credulity so justly blameable, as it will then seejn. For the world, the wise world, that never is wrong itself, judges always by events. And if he should use me ill, then I shall be blamed for trusting him : if well, oh, then I did right, to be sure ! But, bow would my censurers act in my case, before the event justifies or condemns the action, is the question ? Then I have no neion of obliging by halves ; but of doing things with a grace, where they are to be done ; and so I wrote the desired letter to you. assuring you, that I had before me happier prospects than ever I yet had; and hoped all would end well : and begging you to send me, by the bearer, Mr. Thomas, my master's groom, those papers I conveyed to you by Mr. Williams ; for that they would clear up a point in my conduct, that my master was desirous to know, before he resolved to favour me, as intended. 902 PAMELA. Pamela returns to ber Master. But you will have that letter, before you can have this ; which 1 would not end you, without the preceding, now in my master's hands. Having given the letter to Mr. Thomas, to carry to you, when he had baited and rested, after his great fatigue, I sent for Monsieur Colbrand and Robin, and gave to the former bis letter. When he had read it, I said, " You see how things stand. I am resolved to return to our master ; and as he is not so well as were to be wished, the more haste you make the better : don't mind my fatigue ; but consider only yourselves and the '. horses." Robin, who guessed the matter by his conversation with Thomas (as I suppose) said, " God bless you, Madam, and reward you, as your obligingness to my good master deserves ; and may we all live to see you triumph over Mrs. Jewkes !" I wondered to hear him say so ; for I was always careful of exposing my master, or even that naughty woman, before the common servants. Yet I question whether Robin would have said this, if he had not guessed, by Thomas's message, and my resolving to return, that I might stand well with his master. So selfish are the hearts of poor mortals, they are ready to change as favour goes. They were not long getting ready ; and I am just setting out, back again ; and I hope, shall have no reason to repent it. Robin put on very vehemently ; and when we came to the little town where we lay on Sunday night, he gave his horses a bait, and said, he would push for bis master's that night, as it would be moonjight, if I should not be too much fatigued : because there was no place between that and the town adjacent to his master's, fit to put up at, for the night. But Monsieur Colbrand's horse beginning to give way, made a doubt between them ; wherefore I said (hating to sleep on the road) if it could be done, I would bear it well enough, I hoped ; that Monsieur Colbrand might leave his horse, when it failed, at some house, and come into the chariot. This greatly pleased them both ; and, about twelve miles short, he left the horse, took off his spurs, holsters, &c. and, with many cere- monial excuses, came into the chariot : I sat the easier for it ; for my bones ached sadly with the jolting, so many miles travelling in so few hours, from Sunday night, five o'clock. But, for all this, it was eleven o'clock at night when we came to the village adjacent to my master's ; V and the horses began to be very much tired, and Robin too : but I said, it would be a pity to put up only three miles short of the house. About one we reached the gate : and every body was a-bed. But one of the helpers got the keys from Mrs. Jewkes, and opened the gates ; the horses could hardly crawl into the stable. And I, when I went to get out of the chariot, fell down, and thought 1 had lost the use of my limbs. \ PAMELA. \ 203 Pamela's Master requests to see lier. \ r Mrs. Jewkes came down with her clothes huddled on, and lifted uplher hands and eyes at my return ; but shewed more care of the horses than roe. By that time the two maids came ; and I made shift to creep in, as well as I could. It seems my poor master was very ill indeed, and had been upon the bed most part of the day; and Abraham _(who succeeded John) sat up with him. He was got into a fine sleep, and heard not the coach come in, nor the noise we made ; for his chamber lies towards the garden, on the other side the house. Mrs. Jew kes said he had a feverish complaint, and had been blooded ; and very prudently ordered Abraham, when ho awaked, not to tell him I was come, for fear of surprising him, atul augmenting his fever ; nor indeed to say any thing of me, till she herself broke it to him in the morning, as she should see how he was. So I went to ted with Mrs. Jewkes, after she had caused me to diink almost half a pint of burnt wine, made very rich, and cordial with spites, which I found \ery refreshing, and setnie into a sleep I little hoped for. TT'F.SDAY MORNING. ^ y Getting up pretty early, I have written thus far, while Mrs. Jewkes lies pnoring in bed, fetching up her last night's disturbance. I long for her rising, to know how my poor master dees, 'Tis well for her she can sleep so purely. No love, but for herself, will ever break her rest, I am sure. 1 am deadly sore all over, as if I had been soundly beaten. I did not think I could have lived under such fatigue. Mrs. Jewkes when she got up, went to know how my master did, and he had had a good night; and having drank plentiful')' of sack-whey, his fever had abated considerably. She said that he must not be surprised, and she would tell him news. He asked what ; and she said I was come. He raised himself up in his Led ; " Can it he ?" said he, " what, already ?" She told him 1 came last night. Monsieur C'olbrand < oaiiug to enquire of his health, he ordered him to draw nea/, and was highly pleased with his ac< ount of the journey, my readiness to come back, and to reach home that night. And he said, " Why, these tender fair ones, 1 think, bear fatigue better than we jii^n. But she is very good, to give me such an instance of her readiness to oblige me. Pray, Mrs. Jewkes," said he, " take care of her health! and let her lie a-bed all day." She told h'un, I had Leen up these two hours. " Aok her," said be, " if she will be so good as to make me a visit : if she won't, I'll rise and go to her." " Indeed, Sir, ' said, she, " you must be still ; and I'll go to her.". " But doi.'t ur^c her too much," said he, ' if she be unwilling." She came, and told me all the above ; and I said, 1 would most willingly j*ait upon him ; that I longed to see him, and wx much grieved he was much scorn. Beside-, how do these gentry know, supposing they could trace back their ancestry for one, two, three, or even five hundred years, that then the original stems of these pour families, though they have not kept such elaborate records of their good-for-nothingness, as it often proves, were not deeper rooted. How can they be assured, that one hundred years hence, or two, some of those now despised upstart families may not revel in their estates, while their descendants may be reduced to the other's dunghills ! And, perhaps, such is the vanity, as well as changeableness of human estates, in their turns set up for pride of family, and despise the others. These reflections occurred to my thoughts, made serious by my master's indisposition, and this proud letter of the lowly Lady Davers, against the high-minded Pamela. Lowly, I say, because she could stoop to such vain pride ; and high-minded I, because I hope I am too proud ever to do the like 1 But, after all, poor wretches that webe ! we scarce know what we are, much less what we shall be ! Again, I pray to be kept from the sinful pride of a high estate. On this occasion I recal the following lines, which I have read ; where the poet argues in a much better manner : Wise Providence Dn honour to go into the chariot with you." " No, my dear Pamela," said he; " the pleasure of your company will be greater than the honour of mine ; and so say no more on that head." " But, Sir," said I, " I shall disgrace you to go thus." You would grace a prince, my fair one," sa'.d the dear gentleman, " in that dress, or any you shall choose t you loot: so pretty, that, if you v. ill not catch coli 208 PAMELA. Conversation of Pamela and her Master respecting Lady Davers's Letter. in that round-ear'd cap, go just as you are."" Sir," said I, " then you'll be pleased to go a by-way, that it mayn't be seen you do so much honour to your servant." *' My good girl," said he, " I doubt you are afraid of yourself being talked of, more than me: fori hope, by degrees, to take off the world's wonder, and teach it to expect that which is due to my Pamela." There's for you, my dear father and mother ! Did I not do well to come back ? Oh, could I get rid of my fears of this sham marriage (for all this is not inconsistent with that frightful scheme) I should be too happy ! So I came up, with great pleasure, for my gloves ; and now wait his kind commands. " Dear, dear Sir," said I to myself, as if speaking to him, " for God's sake let me have no more trials and reverses ; I could not bear it now, I verily think." At last the welcome message came, that my master was ready ; I went down as fast as I could, and he, before all the servants, handed me in as if I was a lady. Mrs. Jewkes begged he would take care he did not catch cold, as he had been ill. And I had the pride to hear his new coachman say to one of his fellow-servants, " They are a charming pair, I am sure i 'tis pity they should be parted !" O my dear father and mother! I fear your girl will grow as proud as any thing ! You will think I have special reason fo guard against it, when you read the kind particulars I shall now relate. He ordered dinner to be ready by two ; and Abraham, who succeeds John, went behind the coach. He bid Robin drive gently, and told me, he wanted to talk to me about his sister Davers, and other matters. Indeed, at first setting out, he kissed me a little too often ; and I was afraid of Robin's looking back, through the fore-glass, and people seeing us, as they passed ; but he was exceedingly kind to me, in his words, as well. At last, he said " You have, I doubt not, read over and over my sister's saucy letter ; and find, as I told you, that you are no more obliged to her than I am. She intimates, that some people have been with her ; and who should they be, but the officious Mrs. Jervis, Mr. Longman, and Jonathan! and for that I dismissed them my service. I see," said he, " you are going to speak in their behalf ; but your time is not come to do that, if ever 1 shall permit it. " My sister," says he, " I have been beforehand with : for I have renounced her. I am sure I have been a kind brother to her ; and gave der 3000/. more than her share came to by my father's will, when I entered upon my estate. The woman, surely, was beside herself with passion and insolence, when she wrote me such a letter ; for well she knew 1 would not bear it. But you must know, Pamela, she is much incensed, that I will PAMELA. 209 Conversation of Pamela and her Master in the Chariot. give no car to a proposal of her's, of a daughter of my Lord , who," said he, " neither in person, mind, nor acquirements, even with all he* opportunities, is to be named in a day with my Pamela. Yet you see the plea, my girl, which I made to you before, of the pride of condition, and the world's censure, which, I own, sticks a little too close with me still : for a woman shines not forth to the public as a man ; and the world sees not. your excellences and perfections : it it did, I should entirely tand acquitted by the severest censurers. But it will be said, that here is Mr. B. , with such an estate, has married his mother's waiting- . maid : not considering that no lady in the kingdom can outdo her, or better support the condition to which she will be raised. And," said be putting his arm round me, and again kissing me, " I pity my dear girl, too, for her part in this censure ; for she will have to combat the pride and slights of the neighbouring gentry. Sister Davers, you see, will never be reconciled to you. The other ladies will not visit you ; and you will, with a merit superior to all, be treated as if unworthy their notice. Should I now marry my Pamela, how will she relish all this ? Won't these be cutting things to my fair one ? For, ,as to me, I have nothing to do, but, with a good estate in possession, brazen out the matter of my former pleasantry on this subject, with my companions of the chace, the green, and the assemble : stand their rude jests for once or twice, and my for- tune will create me always respect enough, I warrant you. But what will my poor girl do, as to her part, with her own sex ? For some com- pany you must keep. My station will not admit it to be with my servants; the ladies will fly your acquaintance, and still though my wife, will treat you as my mother's waiting-maid. What says my girl to this ?" You may well guess, my dear father and mother, how transporting these generous and condescending sentiments were to me ! I thought I had the harmony of the spheres all around me ; and every word that dropped from his lips was as sweet as the honey of Hybla to me. " O Sir !" said I, "how inexpressibly kind and good is all this '. Your poor servant has a much greater struggle than this to go through, a more knotty difficulty to overcome." 'What is that?" said ho, a little impatiently: "I will not forgive your doubts now." " No, Sir," said I, " I cannot uUubt ; but it is, how 1 shall support, how I shall deserve your goodness to me ?" " Dear girl 1" said he, and pressed me to his breast, "I was afraid you would have made me angry again; but that I would not be, because I see jou have a grateful heart ; and this your kind and cheerful return, after such cruel usage as you had experienced in my house, enough to make you detest the place, has made me resolve to bear any thing in you, but doubts of a 8 210 PAMELA. Pamela's Mode of passing her future Life. my honour, at a time when I am pouring out my soul, with a. true and affectionate ardour, before you." " But, good Sir," said I, " my greatest concern will be for the rude jests you will yourself encounter with, for thus stooping beneath yosrself. For as to me, considering my lowly estate, and little merit, even the slights and reflections of the ladies will be an honour to me : and I shall have the pride to place more than half their ill-will to their envy at my happiness. And if I can, by the most cheerful duty, and resigned obe- dience, have the pleasure to be agreeable to you, I shall think myself but too happy, let the world say what it will." He said, " You are very good, my dearest girl ; but how will you bestow your time, with no visits to receive or pay ? No parties of pleasure to join in ? No card tables to employ your winter evenings,, and even, as the taste is, half the day, summer and winter ? And you have often played with my mother too, and so know how to perform a part there, as well as in the other diversions : and I shall not desire you to live without such ' amusements,. as my wife might expect, were 1 to marry a lady of the first quality." " O, Sir," said I, " how shall I bear your goodness ? But do you think, Sir, in such a family as yours a person whom you shall honour with the name of mistress of it, will not find useful employments for her time, without looking abroad for any others ? " In the first place, Sir, if you will give me leave, I will myself look into such parts of the family economy as may not be beneath the rank to which I shall have the honour of being exalted, if any such there can be t and this, I hope, without incurring the ill-will of any honest servant. "Then, Sir, I will ease you of as much of your family accounts, as I possibly can, when I have convinced you that I am to be trusted with them ; and, you know, Sir, my late good lady made me her treasurer, her almoner, and every thing. " Then, Sir, if I must needs be visiting, or visited, and the ladies won't honour me so much, or even if they would now and then, I will visit, if your goodness will allow me so to do, the sick poor in the neighbourhood around you ; and administer to their wants and necessities, in such mat- ters as may not be hurtful to your estate, but comfortable to them, and entail upon you their blessings, and their prayers for your health and welfare. " Then I will assist your housekeeper, as I used to do, in making jel- lies, comfits, sweetmeats, marmalades, cordials ; and to pot candy, and preserve for the uses of the family ; and to make myself all the fine linen of it for yourself and me. PAMELA. 211 Pamela's Mode of passing her future Life. "Then, Sir, if you will sometimes indulge me with your company, I will take an airing in your chariot now and then : and when you shall return home from your diversions on the green, or from the chaee, or where you shall please to go, I shall have the pleasure of receiving you with duty, and a cheerful delight; and, in your absence, count the moments till your return ; and you will, may fee, fill up some part of my time, the sweetest by far", with your agreeable conversation, for an hour or two now and then ; and be indulgent to the impertinent overflowings of my grateful heart, for all your goodness to me. "The breakfasting time, the preparations for dinner, and sometimes to entertain your chosen friends, and the company you shall bring home with you, gentlemen, if not ladies, and the supperings, will necessarily fill up a great part of the day. " And may be, Sir, now and then a good humoured lady will drop in ; and I hope, if they do, I shall so behave myself, as not to add to the dis- grace- you will have brought upon yourself : for, indeed, I will be very circumspect, and as discreet as 1 can, and as humble too as shall be con- sistent with your honour. " Cards, 'tis true, I can play at, in all th-,usual games that our sex delight in : but this I am not fond of, nor shall ever desire to play, unless to induce such ladies, as you may wish to see, not to abandon your house for want of an amusement they are accustomed to. " Music, which our good lady taught me, will fill up some intervals, if I should have any. And, you know, I love reading and scribbling ; and though all the latter will be employed in the family accounts, between the servants and me, and you and myself; yet reading, at proper times, will be a pleasure to me, which I shall be unwilling to give up for the best company in the world, except yours. And, O Sir, that will help to polish my mind, and make me worthier of your company and conver- sation ; and, with your explanations of what I shall not understand, will be a sweet employment and improvement too. " But one thing, Sir, I ought not to forget, because it Is the chief: my duty to God will, I hope, always employ some good portion of my time, with thanks for his superlative goodness to me ; and to pray for you and myself: for you, Sir, for a blessing on you, for your great goodness to such an unworthy creature ; for myself, that I may be enabled to dis- charge my duty to you, and be found grateful for all the blessings I shall receive at the hands of Providence, by means of your generosity and condescension. " With all this, Sir," said I, " can you think I shall be at a loss to pass my time? But, as 1 know that every slight to me, will be, in some mea- sure, as,lightto you, 1 shall beg not to go very fine iu dress, but only 2W PAMELA. -- ' i, ... i Pamela's Master's candid Avowal to her. appear so, that you may not be ashamed of it, after the honour I shall have of being called by your worthy name : for well I know, Sir, that nothing- so much excites the envy of my own sex, as seeing a persou above them in appearance, and in dress. And that would bring down upon me a hundred saiu:y tilings, and low-born brats, and I can't tell what." There I stopped ; for I bad prattled a great deal ; and he said, clasping me to him, " Why stops my dear Pamela .'Why does she not proceed ? ! could dwell upon your words all the day long : you shall direct your own pleasures and your own time, so sweetly do you choose to employ it : and thus shall I find some of my own bad actions atoned for by your ex- emplary goodness, and God will bless me for your sake. "Oh," said he, *' what pleasure you give me in this sweet foretaste of my happiness ! I will now defy the saucy, busy censures of the world ; and bid them know your excellence, and my happiness, before they, with unhallowed lips, presume to judge of my actions, and your merit ! Let me tell you, my Pamela, that 1 can add my hopes of a still more pleasing amusement, your bashful modesty would not permit you to hint, and which I will no otherwise touch upon, lest it should seem to your nicety to detract from the present purity of my good intentions, than to say, I hope to have superadded to all these, such an employment, as will give me a view of perpetuating my happy prospects, and my family at the same time ; of which I am almost the only male." I blushed, I believe : yet could not be displeased at the decent and charming manner with which he insinuated this distant hope f and, oh ! judge for me, how my heart was affected with all these things ! He was pleased to add another charming reflection, which shewed me the noble sincerity of his kind professions. " I do own to you, my Pamela," said he, " that I love you with a purer flame than ever I knew in my life ; and which commenced for you in the garden ; though you, unkindly, by your unseasonable doubts, nipped the opening bud, while too tender to bear the cold blasts of slight and nrgligence. I know more sincere joy and satisfaction in this sweet hour's conversation with you, than all the guilty tumults of my former passion ever did, or (had even my attempts succeeded) ever could have afforded me." *' O Sir," said I, "expect not words from your poor servant, equal to these most generous professions. Both the means, and the will, I now see, are given to you, to lay me under an everlasting obligation. How happy shall I be, if, though 1 cannot be worthy of all this goodness and condescension, I can prove myself not entirely unworthy of it I But I can only answer for a grateful heart ; and if ever I give you cause wilfully (and you will generously allow for involuntary imperfections) to be dis- PAMELA. 213 ' Pamela declares her RegareTfor her Master. gusted with me, may I be an outcast from your house and favour, and as much repudiated, as jf the law had divorced me from you ! " JJut, Sir," continued I, " though I was so unseasonable in the garden, you would, I trust, had you then heard me, have pardoned my imprudence, and owned I had some cause to fear, and to wish to be with my poor father and mother . I the rather say this, that you should not think me capable of returning insolence for your goodness ; or appearing foolishly ungrateful, when you was so kind to me." " Indeed, Pamela," said he, "you gave me great uneasiness; for I Jove you too well not to be jealous of the least appearance of your indiffe- rence to me, or preference of any other person, not excepting your parents themselves. This made me resolve not to hear you; for I had not got over my reluctance to marriage ; and a little weight, you know, turns the soale, when it hangs in an equal balance. Still you see, that though I could part with you, while my anger held, yet the regard I had then newly professed for your virtue, made me resolve not to offer to violate it : and you have also seen, that the painful struggle I underwent, when I began to reflect, and to read your moving journal, between my desire to recal you, and my doubt whether you would return (though I resolved not to force you to it) had like to have cost me a severe illness : but your kind and cheerful return has dispelled all my fears, and given me hope, that I am not indifferent to you ; apd you see how your presence has chased away my illness." " I bless God for it," said I ; " but since you are so good as to encou- rage me, and will not despise my weakness, I will acknowledge, that I suffered more than I could have imagined, till 1 experienced it, in being banished your presence in so much anger: and I was the more affected, when you answered the wicked Mrs. Jewkes so generously in my favour, at my leaving your house. For this, Sir, awakened all my reverence for you : and you saw F could not forbear, not knowing what I did, to break boldly in upon you, and acknowledge your goodness on my knees."- " Tis true, my dear Pamela," said he, " We have 4 sufficiently tortured one another; the only comfort that can result from it, will be, reflecting upon the matter coolly and with pleasure, when all these storms are overblown (as I hope they now are) and we sit together secured in each other's good opinion, recounting the uncommon gradations, by which we have ascended to the summit of that felicity, which I hope we shall soon attain. " Meantime," said he, " let me hear what my dear girl would have said in her justification, could I have trusted myself with her, as to her fears, and the reason of wishing herself from me, when I had begun to shew my fondness for her in a manner I thought agreeable to her and virtue." I pulled out of my pocket the gipsy letter ; but I said, before 1 shewed 03 214 PAMELA. Pamela gives her Utotfr the letter conveyed by the Gipsy. it to him, " I have this letter, Sir, to shew you, what I think you will allow must have given me the greatest disturbance : "but as I know not the writer, and the hand seems to be disguised, I would beg the favour, if you guess whose it is, it may not turn to their prejudice, as it was written probably with a view only to serve me. He read it ; and being signed Somebody, he said, " Yes, this is indeed from Somebody ; and, disguised as the hand is, I know the writer: don't you see, by the setness of some of these letters, and a little secretary cnt here and there, especially in the c, and the r, it is the hand of a person hred in the law ? Why, Pamela," said he, " it is old Longman's : an officious rascal ! But I have done with him." "O Sir," said I, " it would be too insolent in me to offer (so much I am overwhelmed with your goodness) to defend any body you are angry with : yet, Sir, so far as they have incurred your displeasure for my sake, and for no other want of duty or respect, I could wish But I dare not say more." "But," said he, "as to the letter, and the information it contains :^~let me know, Pamela, when you received this?" On the Friday, Sir," said I, " that you went to the wedding at Stamford."- " How could it be conveyed to you," said he, " unknown to Mrs. Jewkes, when 1 gave her such strict charge to attend you, and you promised me not to throw your- self in the way of such intelligence ? For," said he, " when I went to Stamford, I knew from private intimation, that somebody would attempt to see you, or give you a letter, if not to get you away ; but was not cer* tain from what quarter, whether from my sister Davers, Mrs. Jen is, Mr. Longman, or John Arnold, or your father ; and as I was then struggling with myself, whether to give way to my honourabhi inclinations, or to free you, and let you go to your father, to avoid the danger 1 found myself in of the former (for I had absolutely resolved never to wound again even your ears with proposals of a contrary nature ;) that was the reason I desired you to permit Mrs. Jewkes to be so much on her guard till \ came back, when I thought I should have decided this disputed point- within myself, between my pride and my inclinations." " This, good Sir," said I, " explains to me your conduct in that case, and what you said to me and Mrs. Jewkes on that occasion : and I see more and more how much I may depend upon your honour and goodness. But I will tell you all the truth." I then recounted the whole affair of the gipsy, and how the letter was put among the loose grass, &c. And he said, " The man who thinks a thousand dragons sufficient to watch a woman, When her inclination takes a contrary bent, will find all too little : she will engage the stones in the street, or the grass in the field, to act for her, and help on her correspondence. If the mind," said he, " be not engaged. I see there 's hardly any confinement sufficient for the PAMELA. 215 Pamela's Master owns bis Design of a Sham-marriage. foody : you have told a very pretty story ; and, as you never gave me any reason to question your veracity, even in your severest trials, I doubt not the truth of what you now mention. I will, in turn, give you such a proof of mine, as you shall find to carry conviction with it." " You must know, then, my Pamela, I had actually formed such a project, so well informed was that old rascally Somebody ! The time was fixed for the very person described in thisietter to be here ; and I thought he should read some part of the ceremony (as little as was possible, to deceive you) in my chamber : so I hoped to have you mine upon term* that then would have been much more agreeable to me than real matri- mony. 1 did not in haste intend you the mortification of being unde- ceived ; so that we might have lived for years, perhaps, very lovingly together; I being at liberty to confirm or abrogate it as I pleased." *' O Sir," said I, " I am out of breath with the thoughts of my danger. But what good angel prevented the execution of this deep-laid design ?" " Why your good angel, Pamela," said he ; " for when I considered that it would make you miserable, and me not happy ; that if you should have a dear little one, it would be out of my own power to legitimate it, if I wished it to inherit my estate ; and that, as I am almost the last of my family, ay generous master ; nor shall I ever wish to do you disservice, if I might ; for i consider what you have done, was in obedience to a will I must also submit to ; and so, if the rffects of our obedience may be different, yet, as they proceed from one cause, that must be always reverenced by me." "See there, Mrs. Jewkes," said my master, " we are both in generous hands ; and if Pamela, did not pardon you, I should think she but half forgave me, because you acted by my instructions." " Well," said she. " God bless you both together, since it must be so ; and I will double my diligence to oblige my lady, as I find she will soon be." O my dear father and mother, now pray for me on another score ; lest I should grow too proud, and be giddy with all these promising things, so soothing to the vanity of my years and sex. But even to this hour can I pray, that God would remove from me all these delightful prospects, if they were likely to corrupt my mind, so as to make me proud and vain, and not acknowledge, with thankful humility, the blessed Providence which has so visibly conducted me through the dangerous piths 1 have trod to this happy moment. My master was pleased to say, that, he thought 1 might as uell dine with him, since he was alone ; but I begged he would excuse me, for ff.tr. as 1 said, such excess of goodness and condescension, ail at once, should turn my head; and that he would by slower degrtes bring on my happi- ness, lest I should not know how to bear it. " Persons that doubt themselves," said he, "seldom do amiss : and if there was any fear of what you say, you could not have u in vour thoughts : 220 PAMELA. Pamela's Reflections on God's Providence. for none but the presumptuous, the conceited, and the thoughtless, err capitally. But nevertheless," said he, " 1 have such an opinion of your prudence, that I shall generally think what you do right, because it is you that do it." " Sir," said I, " your kind expressions shall not be thrown away upon me, if I can help it ; for they will task me with the care of endeavouring to deserve your good opinion, and your approbatidn, as the best rule of my conduct." Being then about to go up stairs "Permit, me, Sir," said I (looking about me with some confusion, to see that nobody was there) "thus on my knees to thank you, as I often wanted to do in the chariot, for all your goodness to me, which shall never, I hope, be cast away upon me." And so I had the boldness to kiss his hand. I wonder since bow 1 came to be so forward. But what cottld I do ? My poor grateful heart was like a too full river, which overflows its banks ; and it carried away my fear and my shame-facedness, as that does all before it on the surface of its waters ! He clasped me in his arms with transport, and condescendingly kneeled by me, and kissing me, said, " O my dear obliging good girl, on my knees, as you on yours, I vow to you everlasting truth and fidelity ; and may God but bless us both with half the pleasures that seem to lie before u, and we shall have no reason to envy the felicity of the greatest princes :" " O Sir," said I, " how shall I support so much goodness ! I am poor indeed in every thing, compared to you ! and how far, very far, do you, in every generous way leave me behind you !" He raised me, and, as I bent towards the door, led me to the stairs' foot, and, saluting me there again, left me to go up to my closet, where I threw myself on my knees in raptures of joy, and blessed that gracious God who had thus changed my distress to happiness, and so abundantly rewarded me for all the sufferings I had passed through. And, oh, how light, how very light do all those sufferings now appear, which then my repining mind made so grievous to me ! Hence, in every state of life, and in all the changes and chances of it, for the future, will I trust in Providence, who knows what is best for us, and frequently turns the very evils we most dread, to be the cause of our happiness, and of our deliverance from greater. My experiences, young as I am, as to this great point of reliance on God, are strong, though my judgment in general may be weak and uninformed ; but you'll excuse these reflections, because they are your beloved daughter's ; and, so far as they are not amiss, derive them- selves from the benefit of yours, and my late good lady's examples and instructions. I have written a vast deal in a little time ; and shall only say, to con- PAMELA. 221 Pamela and tier Master talk abont their Mania gn. elude this delightful Wednesday, that in the afternoon my good master was so well, that he rode out on horseback, and came home about nine at night ; and then stepped up to me, and, seeing me with pen and ink before me in my closet, said, "I come only to tell you I am very well, my Pamela; and since I have a letter or two to write, I will leave you to proceed in yours, as I suppose that was your employment" (for I had put by my papers at his coming up ;) and so he saluted me, bid me good night and went down ; and I finished up to this place before I went to bed. Mrs. Jewkes told me if it was more agreeable to- me, she would sleep in another roeni ; but I said " No, thank you, Mrs. Jewkes; pray let me have your company." And she made a fine curtsey, and thanked me, {low time s are alte red ! 1 THURSDAY. fecause our family seldom resided here long tog-ether, shall be cleared, and cleaned, and got ready for the ceremony, if you dislike your own chamber or mine." "Sir," said I, ""that will be better than the chamber: and I hour- it will never be lumbered again, but kept to the use for which, as I presume, 222 PAMELA. Thomas returns without Pamela's Papers. it lias been consecrated." " Oh, yes," said he, " it was consecrated in my great-great-grandfather's time, who built that and the good old house together." " But now my good girl; if I do not add too much to your sweet con- fusion, shall it be in the first seven days, or the second of this fortnight t" I looked down, quite out of countenance. "Tell me," said he. " In the second, if you please, Sir," said I. " As you please," said he r most kindly : " but I should thank you, Pamela, if you would choose the first." " I'd rather, Sir, if you please," said I, " have the second." * Well," said he ; " be it so ; but don't defer it till the last day of the fourteen." " Pray, Sir," said I, " since you embolden me to talk on this important subject, may I ivt send my dear father and mother word of my happi- ness ?" " You may," said he, " but charge them to keep it secret, till you or I direct the contrary. I told you I would see no more of your papers ; but I meant, not without your consent : but if you will shew them, to me (and now I have no motive for my curiosity but pleasure in reading what you write) I shall acknowledge it as a favour." " If Sir," said I, "you will be pleased to let me write over again one sheet, I will ; though I had relied upon your word, and not written them for your perusal." " What is that ?" said he ; " though I cannot consent to it beforehand : for I more desire to see them, as being your true senti- ments at the time, and not written for my perusal." " Sir," said I, " what I am loath you should see are very severe reflections on the letter I received by the gipsy, when I apprehended your design of the sham-mar- riage j there are other things too, but that is the worst." " It cannot be worse," said he, " my dear sauce-box, than I have seen already; and I will allow your treating me in ever so black a manner on that occasion, because it must have a very black appearance to you." " Well, Sir," said I, " I think I will obey you before night." "But don't alter a word," said he. " I won't Sir," replied I, " since you order it." While we were talking, Mrs. Jewkes came up, and said Thomas was returned. " Oh," said my master, " let him bring, up the papers :" for he hoped, and so did I, that you had sent them. But it was a great balk, when he came up, and said, " Sir, Mr. Andrews did not care to deliver them ; and would have it, that his daughter was forced to write that letter to him -. the old gentleman took on sadly, and said that his daughter was undone, or else she would not have turned back, when on her way (as I told him she did, said Thomas) instead of coming to them." I began to fear now that all would he bad for me again. " Well, Tom," said he, " don't mince the matter : tell me, before Mrs. Andrews, what they said." " Why, Sir, both he and Goody Andrews, after conferring* togttner upon your letter, Madam, came out, weeping PAMELA. 223 Despair of Pamela's Parents for her Honour. bitterly, which grieved my very heart ! they said, now all was over with their poor daughter ; and either she had written that letter by compul- sion, or yielded to your honour ; and was, or would he, ruined'." My master seemed vexed, as I feared. And I said, "Pray, Sir, be so good as to excuse the fears of niy honest parents. They cannot know your goodness to me." " And so" (said he, without answeriHg me) " they refused to deliver the papers?" " Yes, and please your honour," said Thomas; "though I told him, that you, Madam, of your own accord, on a letter I had brought you, very cheerfully wrote what I carried : but the old gentleman said Why, wife, there are in these papers twenty things nobody should see but ourselves, and especially not the squire. Oh, the poor girl has had so many stratagems to struggle with! but at last she has met with one too hard for her. Can it be possible to aecount for her setting out tu come to us in such post-haste, and when above half-way, to send us this letter, and go back again of her own accord, as you say j when we know, that all her delight would have been to come to us, and to escape from the perils she has so long contended with?* And then, Sir, he said, he could not bear this ; for his daughter was ruined, to be sure, before now. And so," said Thomas, " the good old couple sat themselves down, hand- in-hand, leaning upon each other's shoulder, and did nothing but lament. 1 was piteously grieved," said he ; " but all I could say did not comfort them ; nor would they give me the papers ; though I said I should deliver them to Mrs. Andrews herself. And so, and please your honour, I came away without them." My good master saw me all bathed in tears, at this description of your distress and fears for me ; and he said, "I would not have you take on so I am not angry with your father in the main ; he is a good man ; and { would have you write out of hand, and it shall be sent by the pest to 1 : . Atkins, who lives within two miles of your father, and I'll inclose it in a cover of mine, in which I'll deiire Mr. Atkins, the moment it comes to his hand, to convey it safely to your father and mother : and say nothing of their sending the papers, that it may not make them uneasy ; for I want not now to see them on any other score than that of mere curiosity ; and that will do at any time." So saying, he saluted me before Thomas, and, with his handkerchief, wiped my eyes ; aud said to Thomas "Th<. good old folks are not to be blamed in the main. They don't know my honourable intentions by their dear daughter; who, Tom, will soon be your mistress : though 1 shall keep the matter private some days, and would not have it spoken of by my servants out of my house." Thomas said, " God bless your honour! you know best." And I said. " O Sir, you are all goodness! How kind is this, to forgive the di>ap- 224 PAMELA. _ Contents of some more of Pamela's Journal. pointment, instead of being angry, as I feared you would !" Thomas then withdrew. And my master said, " I need not remind you of writing out of hand, to make the good folks easy : and I will leave you to yourself for that purpose ; only send me down such of your papers as you are willing I should see, with which I shall entertain myself for an hour or two. But one thing," added he, }' I forgot to tell you : the neighbouring gentry I mentioned will be here to-morrow, to dine with me, and I have ordered Mrs. Jewkes to prepare for them." "And must I, Sir," said 1, "be 3hewn to them ?" " Oh, yes," said he : " that's the chief reason of their coming. And you'll see nobody equal to yourself ; don't be concerned." I opened my papers when my master had gone, and laid out those begin- ning at the Thursday morning he set out for Stamford, with the morning visit he made me before I was up, and the injunctions of watchfulness, &c. to Mrs. Jewkes ; the next day's gipsy affair, and my reflections, in which I called him truly diabolical, and was otherwise very severe, on the strong appearances then against him. His return on Saturday, with the dread he put me in, on offering to search me for my papers which followed those he had got by Mrs. Jewkes's means. My being forced to give them up. His carriage to me after he had read them, and questions to me. His great kindness on seeing the dangers I had escaped, and the troubles I Lad undergone. How I unseasonably, in the midst of his goodness, ex- pressed my desire of being sent to you, having the intelligence of a sham- marriage, from the gipsy, in my thoughts. How this enraged him, and mada him turn me away that very Sunday, and send me to you. The particulars of my journey, and my grief at parting with him: and my free acknowledgment to you, that I found, unknown to myself, I had begun to love him and could not help it. His sending to beg my return : but yet generously leaving me at liberty, when he might have forced me to reftirn, willing or not. My resolutions to oblige him, and fatiguing jour- ney back. My concern for his illness on my return. His kind reception of me, and shewing me his sister Davers's angry letter against his beha- viour to me, desiring him to set me free, and threatening to renounce hi in as a brother, if he should degrade himself by marrying mc. My serious reflections on this letter, &c. (all which, I hope, with the others you will shortly see.) And this carried matters down to Thursday night last. All that followed was so kind on his side, being our chariot conference, as above, on Wednesday morning, and how good he has been ever since, that I thought I would go no further ; for I was ashamed to be so very open on that tender and most grateful subject ; though his great goodness to me deserves all possible acknowledgment. When I had looked these out, I carried them into the parlour; and said, putting them into his hands, ' ; Your allowances, good Sir, as hereto- PAMELA. 225 Interview between Pamela's Master and Mt. Williams. fore : if i have been too open and free in my reflections or declarations', let my fears on one side, and my sincerity on the other, be my excuse." " You are very obliging, my good girl," said he. *' You have nothing to apprehend from my thoughts, any more than from my actions." Sg I went up, and wrote the letter to you, briefly stating my present happiness, and my master's goodness, expressing my gratitude of heart to the kindest gentleman in the world, and assuring you I should soon have the pleasure of sending back to you, not only those papers, but all that since succeeded them, as I know you delight, in your leisure hours, to read my scribble : and I said, taking it to my master before I sealed it, " Will you please, Sir, to peruse what I write to my dear parents ?" " Thank you, Pamela," said he; and set me on his knee, while he read'it, and seemed much pleased with it : and giving it me again, " You are very happy," said he, " my beloved girl, in your style and expressions': the affectionate things you say of in?, are inexpressibly obliging ; and agniB with this kiss," said he, " do I confirm for truth all that you have promised for my intentions in this letter." Oh, what halcyon days are these ! God continue them ! A change now would kill me quite. He went out in his chariot in the afternoon ; and in the evening returned, and sent me word, he would be glad of my company for a little walk in the garden ; and down I went that very moment. He came to meet me. " So," said he " how does my girl do now ? Whom do you think I have seen since I went out ?" " I don't know, Sir," said I. *' Why," said he, " there is a turning in the road, about five miles off, round a meadow, that has a pleasant foot-way, by a little brook> and a double row of limes on each side, where, now and then, the gentry in the neighbourhood walk, and angle and divert themselves. I'll shew it you next opportunity. I stept out of my chariot, to walk across this meadow, and bid Robin meet me on the further part of it : and whom, should I Spy there, walking, with a book in his hand, reading, but your humble servant, Mn Williams ? Djon't blush, Pamela," said he. " As his back was towards me, 1 thought I would speak to the man : and before he ?-aw me, 1 said, ' How do you, old acquaintance?' (" for," said he, " you know we ifere of one college for a twelve-month.") I thought the man would have jumped into the brook, he gave such a start at hearing my voice, and seeing me." " Poor man '." said I. " Ay," said he, " but not too much of your poor man, in that soft accent, neither, Pamela. ' I am sorry my voice is SO Startling to you, Mr. Williams. Wh^are you reading?' ' Sir,' said he, stammerii with the surprise, ' it is the French Telcmachus : for I am about perfecting myself in the French tongue' Thought 1, I bad rather so, than perfecting my Pamela in it. ' Vou do well,' replied I. b H R 226 PAMELA. Conversation between Pamela's Master mid Mr. Williams. ' Don't you think that yonder cloud may give us a small shower?' And it began to wet. He said, he believed not" much. ' If,' said I, ' you are for the village, I'll give you a cast ; for I shall call at Sir Simon's on returning from my little round.' He asked if it was not too great a favour ? ' No,' said I, ' don't talk of that ; let us walk on, and we shall soon meet my chariot.' " So, Pamela," continued my master, " we fell into conversation as we walked. He said he was very sorry he had incurred my displeasure ; and the more as he was told, by Lady Jones, who had it from Sir Simon's family, that I had a more honourable view than at first was apprehended. I said, ' We fellows of fortune, Mr. Williams, sometimes take too much liberty with the world ; wantoning, very probably, as you contemplative folks would say, in the sunbeams of a dangerous affluence, we cannot think of confining ourselves to the common paths, though the safest and most eligible. And you may believe I could not bear to be supplanted in a. view that lay next my heart ; and that by an old acquaintance, whose good, before this affair, I was studious to promote,' ' I would only say, Sir,' said he, ' that my first motive wa3 entirely such as became my function :" and very politely, said my master, he added, ' And I am very sure, that however inexcusable I might seem iu the progress of the matter, yourself, Sir, would have been sorry to have it said, you had cast your thoughts upon a person that nobody could have wished for but yourself.' 4 Well, Mr. Williams,' said I, ' I see you are a man of gallantry, as Well as religion ; but what I took most amiss was, that if you thought me doing a wrong thing, you did not expostulate with me upon it, as your function might have allowed you to do ; but immediately determine to counterplot me, and attempt to secure to yourself a prize you would have robbed me of, and that from my own house. But the matter is at an end, and I retain no malice, though you did not know but I might, at last, do honourably by her, as I actually intend.* ' I am sorry for myself, Sir,' said he, ' that I should so unhappily incur your displeasure ; but I rejoice for her sake in your honourable in- tentions : allow me to say, that if you make Mrs. Andrews your lady, she will do credit to your choice, with all who see her, or come to know her ; and, for person and mind, you may challenge the county.' " In this manner," said my master, " did the parson and I confabu- late ; and I set him down at bis lodgings in the village. But he kept your secret, Pamela j and wouj^aot own, that you gave any encourage- ment to his addresses." " Indeed, Sir," said I, "he could not say that I did ; and I hope you believe me."" I do," said he : " but it is still my opinion, that if, when PAMELA. 227 Tiie neighbouring Gentry pay a Visit to Pamela's Mater. I saw plots set up against my plots, I had not discovered the parson as I did, the correspondence between you might have gone to a length that would have put our present situation out of both our powers.'' " Sir," said I, " when you consider, that my utmost presumption could not make me hope for the honour you now seem to design me ; that I was so hardly used, and had no prospect before me but dishonour, you will allow, that I should have seemed very little in earnest in my profession of honesty, not to endeavour to get away ; but yet I resolved not to think of marriage ; for I never saw the man I could love, till your goodness em- boldened me to look up to you." " I should, my dear Pamela," said he, " make a very ill compliment to my vanity, if I did not believe you : but justice calls upon me to say, that it is, some things considered, beyond my merit." There was a sweet noble expression for your poor daughter, my dear father and mother! And from my master too ! I was glad to hear this account of the interview between Mr. Williams andhimself ; but I dared not to say so. I hope in time he will be re-in- stated in his good graces. He was so good as to tell me, he had given orders for the chapel to be cleared. Oh, how I look forward with inward joy, yet with fear and trembling ! FRIDAT. * About twelve o'clock dame Sir Simon, his lady, and two daughters, and Lady Jones, and her sister-in-law, and Mr. Peters, with his spouse and niece. Mrs. Jewkes, who is more and more obliging, was much concerned I was not dressed in some of my best clothes, and mads me many compliments. They all walked in the garden, before dinner ; and, I understood, were so impatient to see me, that my master took them into the largest alcove, after they had walked two or three turns, and stept himself tome. " Come, my Pamela," said he, " the ladies can't be satisfied without seeing you, and I desire you'll come." I said, I was ashamed ; but I would obey him. Said he, " The two young ladies are drest out in their best attire ; but they make not such an appearance as my charming girl in this ordinary garb." " Sir," said I, " shan't I follow you ? For I can't bear you to do me so much honour." " Well," said he, " I'll go before you." And he bid Mrs. Jewkes bring a bottle of sack, with some cake. So he went down to them. This alcove fronts the longest gravel-t|0lk in the garden, so that they saw me most of th way I eame ; and my master told me afterwards, with pleasure, all they said of me. Will you forgive the little vain slut, your daughter, if I tell you all, as it 2 228 PAMELA. Pamela introduced to her Master's Visitors. he was pleased to tell me? He said, spying me first, "There, ladies^ comes my pretty rostic V They all, I saw, which dashed me, stood at th windows, arid in the door-way, lookiug full at me. My master told me, that Lady Jones said, " She is a charming creature, I see that at this distance." And Sir Simon, it seems, who has been a sad rake in his younger days, swore he never saw so easy an air, so fine a shape, and so graceful a presence. The Lady Darnford said, 1 was a sweet girl. And Mrs.JPeters said very handsome things. Even the parson said, I should be the pride of the county. O dear Sirs ! all this was owing to the light my good master's favour placed me in, which made me shine out in their eyes beyond my deserts. He said the young ladies blushed, and envied me. When I came near, he saw me in a little confusion, and was so kind as to meet me : lt Give mfe your hand," said be, " my good girl ; you walk too fast." I did so, with a curtsey; and he, leading me up the steps of the alcove, in a tnost gentleman-like manner, presented me to the ladies, who all saluted me, and said they hoped to be better acquainted with me : and Lady Darnford was pleased to say, I should be the flower of their neighbourhood. Sir Simon said, " Good neighbour, and by your leave ;" and saluting me, added, " Now will I say, that I have kissed the loveliest maiden in England." But, for all this, methought I owed him a grudge for a tell-tale, though all had turned out so happily. Mr. Peturs very gravely followed his example, and said, like a bishop, " God bless you, fair excellence '." Said Lady Jones, " Pray, dear Madam, sit down by me." They all sat down ; but I said, I would stand, if they pleased. " No, Pamela," said my master ; " pray sit down with these good ladies, my neighbours : They will indulge it to you, for my sake, till they know you better ; and for your own when they are acquainted with you." " Sir," said I, " I,shall be proud to deserve their indulgence." They all so gazed at me, I could not look up ; for I think it one of the distinctions of persons of condition, ai/ well-bred, to put bashful bodies out of countenance. *' Well, Sir Simon," said my master, " what say you now to my pretty rustic ?" He swore a great oath, that he should better know what to say, if he was as young a? himself. Lady Darnford said, " You will never leave on", Sir Simon." Said my master, " You are a little confused, my good girl, and out of heath; but I have told all my kind neighbours here a good deal of your story and your excellence." " Yes," said Lady Darnford, " my dear neighbour, as I will call you ; we that are here present have all heard of your uncommon story." " Madam," said I, " you have then heard what must make your kind allowance for me very necessary." " No," said >'Irs. Peters, *' we have heard what will always make you valued as an PAMELA. 229 \ \ liability of the Company to Pamela. honour tp our sex, and as a worthy pattern for all the young ladies in the county."" You are very good, Madam," said I, " to make me able to look up, and to be thankful for this honour." Mrs. Jewkes came in with the Canary, brought by Nan to the alcove, and some cake on a silver salver; and I said, " Mrs. Jewkes, let me assist you in serving the ladies with the cake." I took the salver, and went round to the good company with it, ending with my master. The Lady Jones said, she never was served with such a grace, and it was giving me too much trouble. " O Madam," said I, " J hope my good master's favour will never make me' forget it is my duty to wait upon his friends." " Master, sweet one !" said Sir Simon, " I hope you won't always call Mr. B. by that name, lest it should become a fashion with all our ladies through the county.'^ '* I, Sir," said I, " shall have many reasons to continue this style, which cannot affect your, good ladies." " Sir Simon," said I/idy Jones " you are very arch upou us : but I see very well, that it will be the interest of all the gentlemen to bring their ladies into an intimacy with one, who can give them such a good example." " I am sure then, Madam," said I, " it must be after I am polished and improved by the honour of such an example as yours." They were all very good and affable : and the young Lady Darnford, who had wished to see me in this dress, said, " I beg your pardon, dear Miss ; but I had heard how sweetly this garb became you, and was told the history of it ; and begged that you might favour us with your appearance in it." " I am much obliged to your ladyship,'*' said I, " that your kind prescription was so agreeable to ihy choice." " Why," s:iid she, " was it your choice then ? I am glad of that : though 1 am sure your person must give, and not take ornament from any dress." " Vou are very kind, Madam," said I ; " but there will be the les= reason to fear I should forget my high obligations to the kindest of gentle- men, when I can delight to shew the humble degree from which his good cess has raised me.'' " My dear Pamela," said he, " if you proceed at this rate, I must iiuist upon jour first seven days. You know what I mean " " Sir," said I, " you are all goodness." They drank a glass of sack each, and Sir Simon made me do so too, 3aying, *' It will be a reflection, 1 think, upon all the ladies, if you do not as they io." " Nq, Sir Simon," said I, " that can't be, for the ladies' journey hither makes a glass of Canary a proper cordial for them : but I won't jefuse, because I will do myself the honour of drinking good health to you, and all this worthy company." Said good Lady Darnford to my master, " I hope, Sir, we shall have Mrs Andrews's company at table." fie said, very obligingly, " Madam, it is her time bow ; and I will leave it to her choice.*'" If the good ladies, then 230 PAMELA. *""'' " " - . " \ ** * "" Vamela excuses herself from Dinner with her Blaster's Guests. will forgive me, Sir," said 1, " I had rather be excused." Tbey all said, I must not be excused. I begged I might. " Your reason for it, my dear Pamela ?" said my master ; " since the ladies request it, I wish you would oblige them." " Sir," replied I, " your goodness will make me, every day, worthier of the honour the ladies do me ; and when I can persuade myself that I am more worthy of it than at present, I shall with great joy embrace all the opportunities, they will be pleased to give me." Mrs. Peters whispered Lady Jones, as my master told me afterwards, " Did you ever see such excellence, prudence, and discretion ?" " Never in my life," said the other good lady. " She will adorn," she was pleased to say, "her distinction." "Ay," says Mrs. Peters, " she would adorn any station in life." My good master was highly delighted, generous gentleman as he is, with the favourable opinion of the ladies ; and I took the more pleasure in it, because their favour seemed to lessen the disgrace of his stooping so much beneath himself. Lady Darnford said, " We will not oppress you ; though we could almost blame your too punctilious exactness ; but if we excuse Mrs. Andrews from dinner, we must insist upon her company at the card-table, and at tea ; for we shall pass the whole day with you, Sir, as we told you." *' What say you to that, Pamela ?" said my master. " Sir," replied I; " whatever you and the ladies please, 1 will cheerfully do." They said I was very obliging. But Sir Simon rapt out an oath, and said, that they might dine together if they would ; but he would dine with me, and nobody else. "For," said he, "I say, Sir, as Parson Williams said" (by which I found my master had told them the story) " you must not think you have chosen one that nobody can like but yourself." The young ladies said, if I pleased, they would take a turn about the garden with me. I answered I would very gladly attend them ; and so we three, and Lady Jones's sister-in-law, and Mr. Peters's niece, walked together. They were very affable, kind, and obliging ; and we soon entered into a good deal of familiarity ; and I found Miss Darnford a very agreeable person. Her sister was a little more on the reserve : and I afterwards heard, that, about a year before, she would fain have had my master make his addresses to her ; but though Sir Simon is reckoned rich, she was not thought a sufficient fortune for him. And now, to have him look down so low as me, must be a sort of mortification to a poor young ] a dy ! And I pitied her Indeed I did ! I wish all young persons of my sex could be as happy as I am likely to be. My master told me afterwards, that I left the other ladies, and Sir Simon and Mr. Peters, full of my praises ; so that they could hardly talk of any thing else ; one launching out upon my complexion, another upon PAMELA. S31 Pamela sings a Song with Accompaniments on the Spinet. my eyes, my band, and in short (for you'll think me sadly proud) upon my whole person and behaviour ; and they all magnified my readiness and obligingness in my answers, and the like ! and I was glad of it, as I said, for my good master's sake, who seemed quite pleased and rejoiced. God bless him for his goodness to me ! Dinner not being ready the young ladies proposed a tune upon the spinet. I said, I believed it was not in tune. They said, they knew it was bu,t a few months ago. *'lf it is/' said 1, ** I wish 1 had known it. Though indeed, ladies," added 1, f* since yeu know my story, I must own, that my mind has not been long in tune, to make use of it." So they would make me play upon it, and sing to it ; which I did, a song my dear good lady made me learn, and used to be pleased with, and which she brought with her from Bath : and the ladies were much taken with the song, and were so kind as to approve my performance : and Miss Darivford was pleased to compliment me, that I had all the accomplish- ments of my sex. I said, I had had a good lady in my master's mother, who bad spared no pains nor cost to improve me. She said, she wished Mr. B. could be prevailed upon to give a ball on an approaching occasion, that we might have a dancing match, &c. But I can't say I do, though I did not say so ; for these occasions, I think, are too solemn for the principals, at least of our sex, to take part in, especially if they have the same thoughts of the solemnity that I have : for indeed, though I have before me a prospect of happiness which may be envied by ladies of high rank, yet I must own to you, my dear parents, that I have something very awful upon my mind, when I think of th^ matter ; and shall more and more, as it draws nearer and nearer. This js the song . Go, happy paper, gently steal, And underneath her pillow lie : There, in soft dreams, my love reveal, That love which I must still conceal, i And, wrapt in awful silence, die. Should_/?flies be doom'd thy hapless fate, To atoms thou wouldst quickly turnj My pains may bear a longer date ; For should I live, and should she hate, In endless torments I should burn. Tell fair Aurejia, she has charms Might in a hermit stir desire, T attain the heav'n that's in her arms, J'd quit the world's alluring'channs And to ncell, content, retire. k 4 232 PAMELA. - - *" 1 ' * i . . i . Pamela') Master warns her against Surprise at seeing a Stranger. Of all that pleas'd my ravisb'd eye, Her beauty should supply the place j Bold Raphaels strokes, and Titian's eye, Should but in vain presume to vie, With her inimitable face. Nor more I'd wish for Phoebus' rays, To gild the object of my sight : Much less the taper's fainting blaze, , Her eyes should measure out my days ; And when she slept, it should be night. ABOUT FOUR O'CLOCK. My master just came up to me, and said, " If you should see Mr. Wil- liams below, do you think, Pamela, you should not be surprised ?" "No, Sir," said I, " I hope not Why should I i" " Expert," said he, " a stranger, then, when you come down to us in the parlour ; for the ladies are preparing themselves for the card-table, and they insist upon your eompany." " You have a mind, Sir," said I, " to try all my courage." " Why," said he, " does it want courage to see him ?" " No, Sir," said I, " not at all. But I was grievously dashed to see all those strange ladies and gentlemen ; and row to see Mr. Williams before them, as some of them refused his application for me, when I wanted to get away, it will a little shock me to see them smile, in recollecting what has passed of that kind." "Well," said he, "guard your heart against surprises, though you shall see, when you come down, a man that I can allow you to love dearly, though hardly preferable to me." This surprises me much. I am afraid he begins to be jealous of me. What will become of me (for he looked very seriously) if any turn should happen now? My heart aches! I know not what's the matter. But I will go down as brisk as I can, that nothing may be imputed to n;e. Yet I wish this Mr. Williams had not been there now, when they are all there"; because of their fleers at him and me. Otherwise I should be glad to see the poor gentleman ; for, indeed I think him a good man, and he has suffered for my sake. So I am sent for rjown to cards. I'll go ; but wish I may continue their good opinions of me : for I shall be very awkward. My master, bv his serious question, and bidding me guard my heart against surprises, though I should see, when I came down, a man he can allow me to love dearly, though hardly better than himself, has quite alarmed me, and made me sad I I hope he loves me : But whether he does or not, I am in for it now, over bead and ears, I doubt, and can't help loving him j 'tis a folly PAMELA. 233 Pamela's Fatber comes after her. to deny it. I can't love any man preferably to him. I shall soon know what he means. Now, my dear mother, I must write to you. Well might my good master say so mysteriously about guarding my heart against surprises. I never was so surprised; and never could see a man I loved so dearly! Oh, it was ruy dear, dear father, not Mr. Williams, who was below ready to receive and bless your daughter. Both my master and he enjoined me to write how the whole matter was, and my thoughts on this joyful occasion. I will take the matter from the beginning that Providence directed his feet here, to this time, as I have had it from M rs. Jewkes, my master, my father, the ladies, and my own heart and conduct, as far as I know of both ; because they command it, and you will be pleased with my rela- " tion ; and, as you know how I came by the connexion, will make one uniform relation of it. It seems my dear father and you were so uneasy to know the truth of the story from Thomas, that, fearing 1 was betrayed and undone, he got leave of absence ; and set out the day after Thomas was there ; on Friday morning he got to the neighbouring town ; and there he heard that the gentry in the neighbourhood were at my master's, at a great entertain- ment. He put on a clean 9hirt and neckcloth he had in his pocket, at an alehouse there, and got shaved ; and,*after he had ate some bread and cheese, and drank'a can of ale, he set out for my master's house, with a heavy heart, in fear of being brow-beaten. He had, it seems, asked at the alehouse what family the squire had down here, in hopes to hear something of me ; they said, a housekeeper, two maids, and at present, two coachmen, two grooms, a footman, and a-helper. Was that all ? lie said. They told him, there was a young creature there, who was, or was to be, his mistress, or somewhat of that nature ; but had been his mo- ther's waiting-maid. This, he said, grieved his heart, and confirmed his fears. So he went on, and about three in the afternoan reached the gate; and, ringing there, Sir Simon's coachman came, when he asked for the house- keeper ; though, from what I had written, it. his heart he could not afcide her. She sent for him, little thinking who lie was, and asked him, ifi the hall, what was his business with her. " Only, Madam," said he, " whe- ther I cannot speak one word with the squire ?" " No, friend," said she ; he is engaged with several gentlemen and ladies." Slid he " I have business with his honour of greater coivsequence to me than either life or death ;" and tears stood in his eyes. At which she went into the great parlour, where my master was talk- ing very pleasantly wit'i the ladies ; and she said "Sir, here is a good old man, who wants to see you on business of life and death, he says, and 234 PAMELA. Interview between Pamela's Father and her blaster. is very earnest." M Ay," said he, " who can that be ? Let him stay in the little hall, and I'll soon come to him." They all stared ; and Sir Simon said, " No more nor less, I dare say, my good friend, ,but a bastard child." " If it is," said Lady Jones, " bring it in to us." " I will," said he. Mrs. Jewkes says, my master was much surprised when he saw who it was ; and she much more, when my dear father said, " Good God ! give me patience ! but, great as you are, Sir, I must ask for my child !" and burst out into tears (Oh, what trouble have I given you both!) My master said, taking him by the hand, " Don't be uneasy, Goodman An- drews : your daughter is in the way to be happy !" This alarmed my dear father, and he said, " What ! then, is she dying !" And, trembling, could scarce stand. My master made him sit down by him, and said, " No, God be praised, she is very well : pray be comforted ; I cannot beaj to see you thus apprehensive ; but she has written you a letter, to assure you that she has reason to be well satisfied and happy." '^Ah, Sir," said he, " you tqld me once she was in London, waiting on a bishop's lady, but she was then a severe prisoner here." " That's all over now, Goodman Andrews," said my master : " the times are altered ; for now the sweet girl has taken me prisoner ; and in a few days I shall put on the most agreeable fetters that ever man wore." " O Sir," said he, " you are too pleasant for my griefs. My heart's almost broken. But may I not see my poor child ?" " You shall, pre- sently," said he ; " for she is coming down to us : and since you won't believe me, I hope you will her." " I will ask you, good Sir," said he, " but one question, that I may know how to look upon her when I see her. Is she honest? Is she virtu- ous ?" " As the new-born babe, Mr. Andrews," said my good master ; " and, in twelve days' time, I hope, will be my wife." " Oh, Hatter me not, good your honour," said he, " it cannot be ! it cannot be ! 1 fear you have deluded her with strange hopes ; and would make me believe impossibilities :" " Mrs. Jewkes," said he, ' do you tell my dear Pamela's good father, when I go out, all you know of me, and your mistress that U to be. Make much of him, set out what you have, and make him drink a glass of what he likes best. If this he wine," added he, " fill me up a bumper." She did so ; and he took my father by the haud, and said, " Believe me, good man, and be easy ; for I can't bear, to see you tortured in this cruel suspense : your dear daughter is the beloved of my soul. I am glad you are come ; for you'll see us all in the same story. Here's your dame's health ; and God bless you both for being the happy means of pro- ruring for me so great a blessing!" So he drank a bumper to this a\os\ blighijj health. PAMELA. 235 Pamela's Father introduced to her Master's Visitors. " What do I hear? It cannot surely be," said my father. "And your honour is too good, I hope, to mock a poor old man. This ugly story, Sir, of the bishop runs in my head But you say I shall see my dear child aud see her honest. If not, poor as I am, I would not own her." My master bid Mrs. Jewkes not let me know yet that my father was come ; and went to the company, and said, " I have been agreeably sur- prised : here is honest old Goodman Andrews come full of grief to see his daughter : he fears she is seduced ; and tells me, good honest man, that, poor as he is, he will not own her if she be not virtuous." " Oh," said they all with one voice almost, " Dear Sir! shall we not see the good old man you have so praised for his plain good sense and honest htart ?" " If," said he, " I thought Pamela would not be too much affected with the surprise, I would make you all witness to their first interview ; for never did daughter love a father, or father a daughter, as they two do one another." Miss Darnford, and all the ladies and gentlemen, begged it might -be so. But was not this very cruel ? For well might they think I should not support myself in such an agreeable surprise. He said kindly " I only fear that the dear girl may be too much affected." "Oh," said Lady Darnford, "we'll all help to keep up her spirits." Says he, " I'll go up and prepare her; but won't tell her of it." So he came up to me, as I have said, and amused me about Mr. Williams, to half prepare me for some surprise ; though that cuuld not have been any thing to this ; and he left me, as I said, in that suspense, at his mysterious words, saying, he would send to me, when they were goinjf to cards. My master went from me to my father, and asked if he had eaten any thing. "No," said Mrs. Jewkes, "the good man's heart's so full, he cannot eat, nor do any thing, till he has seen his dear daughter." " That shall soon be," said my master. " I will have you come in with me; for she is going to sit down with my guests, to a game at quadrille '. and I will send for her down."" O Sir," said my father, " don't, don't let me ; I am not fit to appear before your guests : let me see my daughter by myself, I beseech you." Said he, "They all know your honest charac- ter, Goodman Andrews, and long to see you, for Pamela's sake." He took my father by the hand, and led him in, against his will, to the company. They Were all very good. My master kindly said, " Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you one of the honestest men in England, my good Pamela's father." Mr. Peters went to him, and took him by thft hand, and said, " We are all glad to see you, Sir ; you are the happiest man in the world, in a daughter whom wc never saw before to-day, but cannot enough admire." Said my master, "This gentleman, Goodman Andrews, is the minister of 23<5 PAMELA." Affecting Interview between Pamela and her Fither. the parish ; but not young enough for Mr. Williams." This airy expres- sion, my poor father said, made him fear that all was a je:>t. Sir Simon . also took him by the hand and said, "Ay, you have a sweet daughter, Honesty ; we are all in love with her. And the ladie9 came and said very fine things : Lady Darnford particularly, that he might think himself the happiest man in England, in such a daughter. " If, and please you, Madam," said he, " she be but virtuous, 'tis all in all : for all the rest is accident. But I doubt his honour has been too ninth upon Uicjest with me. 1 ' " No," said Mrs. Peters, ** we are all witnesses that he intends very ho- nourably by her." "It's some comfort," said he, and wiped his eyes, " that such good ladies say so But 1 wish I could see her." They would have had him sit down by them, but he would only sit behind the door in the corner of the room, so that, entering, one could not see him ; because the door opened against him, and almost hid bim. The ladies all sat down; and my master said, " Desire Mrs. Jewkes to step up, and tell Mrs. Andrews the ladies wait for her." So down I came. Miss Darnford rose, and met me at the door, and said, "Well, Miss Andrews, we long for your company." I did not see my dear father ; and it seems his heart" was too full to speak! and he got up, and sat down, three or four times successively, unable to come to me, or to say any thing. The ladies looked that way ; but I would not, supposing it was Mr. Williams. They made me sit down between Lady Darnford and Lady Jones ; and asked me what 1 would play at. I said, " At what your ladyships please." I wondered to see them smile, and look upon me, and to that corner of the room ; but I was afraid of looking, for fear of seeing Mr. Williams ; though my face was that way too, and the table before me. Said my master, " Did you send your letter away to the post-house, my good girl, for your father." " To be sure, Sir," said I, " I did not forget that : 1 took the liberty te desire Mr. Thomas to carry it." " What," said he, " 1 wonder will the good old couple say to it ?" " O Sir," said I, " your goodness will be a cordial to their dear honest hearts !" At that, ray dear father, not able to contain himself, nor yet to stir from the place, gushed put into a flood of tears, which he, good soul, had been struggling with, it seems ; and cried ont, "Oh, my dear child !" I knew the voice, and, lifting up my eyes, saw 'my father. I gave a spring, and overturned the table, without regard to the company, and threw myself at bis feet : " O my father ! my fa; her !" said I, " can it be ? Is it you? Yes, it is! Oh, bless your happy" daughter! I would have i said, and down I sunk. I My master seemed concerned. " I feared," said he, " that the surprise would be too much for her spirits ; and all the ladies ran to me, and made me drink a glass of water ; aud I found roynlf ertdreled in the arms of I I'.\ & ( ;r..\o ii 1 i li 1 11"-' i e w w,l!i ! . VJ . | f !' K , PAMELA. 237 Pamela eemuMMluutea lier happy Prospects to her Father. my dearest father. '* Ob, tell me, said I, " every thing. How long have you been here ? When did you come ? how does my honoured mother ?" And half a dozen questions more, before he could answer one. They permitted me to retire with my father ; and then I poured forth all my vows, and thanksgivings to God, for this additional blessing ; and confirmed all my master's goodness to his scarce believing amazement. We kneeled together, blessing God, and one another, for several ecstatic minutes ; and my master coming in soon after, my dear father said, "O Mr, what a change is this ! May God reward and bless you, both in this world and the next." "May God bless us all!" said he. "But how does my sweet girl! I have been in pain for you. I am sorry I did not apprise you beforehand." " O Sir," said I, " it was you, and all you do must be good. But this was a blessing so unexpected !" " Well," said he, "you have given pain to all the company. They will be glad to see you when you can ; for you have spoiled all their diversion ; and still painfully delighted them. Mr. Andrews," added he, " do you make this house your own ; and the longer you stay, the more welcome you'll be. After you have a little .composed yourself, my dear girl, step in to us again. I am glad to see you so well already." And so he left us. " See you, my dear father,"* said 1, " what goodness there is in this once naughty master ? Oh, pray for him ! and for me that I may deserve it !" "How long has this happy change been wrought, my dear child ?" " Oh," said I, " several days ! I have written down every thing ; and you'll see, from the depth of misery, what God has done for me." " Blessed be his name!" said he. "But, do you say, he will marry you ? Can such a brave gentleman make a lady of the child of such a poor man as I ? O the divine goodness! How will your poor dear mother support these happy tidings ? 1 will set out to-morrow, to acquaint her with them ? for I am hut half happy, till the dear good woman shares them with me ! To be sure, my child, we ought 10 go into some far country, to hide our- leives, that we may not disgrace you by our poverty." " () my dear father," said f, " now you are unkind for the first time. Your poverty has been my glory, and my riches. I ever thought it an honour, rather than a disgrace, because you were always so honest, that your child might well boast of such a parentage !" In this manner, my dear mother, did we pass the happy moments, till Miss Darnford came to me and saith. " How do you, dear Madam ? I rejoice to see you so well ! Pray let us have your company And your's too, good Mr. Andrews," taking his hand. This was very obliging, I told her. We went to the great parlour ; and my master made my father sit down by him, and dritrk a glass of win* with him. Mean time, I made my 238 PAMELA. Pamela sits down to Sapper with her Master's Company. excuses to the ladies, as well as I could, which they readily granted me. But Sir Simon, after his comical manner, put his hands on my shoulders : ** Let rue see," said he, " where your wings grow : for I never saw any body fly like you. Why," said he, " you have broken Lady Jones's shins with the table. Shew her else, Madam." His pleasantry made them laugh. I said, I was very sorry for my extravagancy : and if it had not been my master's doings, I should have said, it was a fault to permit me to be surprised, and put out of myself before such good company. They said, all was very excusably* and they were glad I suffered no more by it. They were so kind as to excuse me at cards, and played by themselves ; and I went by my master's command, and sat on the other side, in the happiest place I ever was blest with, between two of the dearest men in the world to me, each holding one of my hands ; my father, every now- and-then, with tears, lifting up his eyes, and saying, " Could I ever have hoped this !" I asked him, if he had been so kind as to. bring the papers with him ? He said he had, and looked at me, as who should say, " Must I give them to you now ?" I said, " Yes, if he pleased." Pulling them from his pocket, I stood up, and, with my best duty, gave them to my master. " Thank you, Pamela," said he ; " your father shall take all with him, to see what a sad fellow I have been, as well as the present happier altera- tion. But I must have all again, for the writer's sake." The ladies and gentlemen would make me govern the tea-table, what- ever I could do ; and Abraham attended me, to serve the company. My master and my father sat together, and drank a glass or two of wine instead of tea, and Sir Simon joked with my master, saying, " I warrant you would not be such a woman's man, as to drink tea with the ladies. But your time's coming, and, I doubt not, you'll be made as comfort- able as 1." My master was very urgent with them to stay supper ; and at last they complied, on condition that I would grace the table, as they were pleased to call it. I begged to be excused. My master said, " Don't be excused, Pamela, since the ladies desire it : besides," said he, " we won't part with your father ; so you may as well stay with us." I hoped my father and I might sup by ourselves, or only with Mrs. Jewkes. But Miss Darnford, a most obliging young lady, said, " Indeed we will not part with you." When supper was brought in, Lady Darnford took me by the hand, and said to my master, " Sir, by your leave :" and would have placed me at the upper end of the table. " Pray, Madam," said 1, " excuse me ; I cannot do it." " Pamela," said my master, to the great delight of my PAMELA. 239 Compliments passed on Pamela by the Company. father, as I saw by his looks, " oblige Lady Darnford, since she desires it. It is but a little before your time." " Dear, good Sir," said I, " pray don't .command it ! Let me sit by my father, pray '." " Why," said Sir Simon, " here's ado indeed ! Sit down at the upper end, as you should do, and your father shall sit by you." This put my dear father upon difficulties. And my master said, " Come, I'll place you all :" and so put Lady Darnford at the upper end, Lady Jones at her right hand, and Mrs. Peters on the other ; placing me between the two young ladies ; but very genteely put Miss Darnford below her younger sister ; saying, " Come, Miss, I put you here, because you shall hedge in this little cuckoo, for I notice, with pleasure, your good- ness to her ; besides, all you very young ladies should sit together." This pleased both sisters ; for had the youngest been put there, it might have piqued her, as matters were once, to be placed below me ; whereas Miss Darnford giving place to her youngest sister, made it less odd she should to rae ? especially with that handsome turn of the dear man, as if I was a cuckoo, and to be hedged in. " My master kindly said, " Come, Mr. Andrews, you and I will sit toge- ther," taking his place at the bottom of the table, and setting my father on his right hand ; and Sir Simon would sit on his left. " For," said he, " parson, 1 think the petticoats should be together : so do you sit down by that lady" (his sister.) A boiled turkey standing by me, my master said, " Cut up that turkey, Pamela, if not too strong work for you, that Lady Darnford may have less trouble." So I carved it in a trice, and helped the ladies. Miss Darnford said, " I would give something to be so dexterous a carver." " O Madam," said I, "my late good lady always made me do these things, when she entertained her female friends, oa particular days." " Ay," said my master, " I remember my poor mother would often say, if I or any body at table happened to be a little out in carving, ' I'll send up for my Pamela, to shew you how to carve." Said Lady Jones, " Mrs. Andrews has every accomplishment of her sex. She is quite wonderful for her years." Miss Darnford said, ' I can tell you, Madam, she plays sweetly upon the spinet, and as sweetly sings to it; for she has a fine voice." " Foolish," said Sir Simon : " who, that hears her speak, knowf * not that ? And who that sees her fingers, believes not that they were mad to touch any key ? O parson !" said he, " 'tis well you're by, or I should have had a blush from the ladies." " I hope not, Sir Simon," said Lady Jones ; " for a gentleman of your politeness would not say any thing that would make ladies blush." " No, no," said he, " not for the. world : but if 1 had, it would have been, as the poet says " They blush, because they understand." 240 PAMELA. Pamela's Matter urges her to fix the Day for their Marriage. When the company went away, Lady Darnford, Lady Jones, and Mrs. Peters, severally invited my master, and me with him, to their houses ; and begged he would permit me, at least, to come before we left those parts. And they said, we hope when the happy knot is tied, you wril induce Mr. B. to reside more -among us. " We were always glad," said Lady Darnford, *' when he was here : but now we shall have double rea- son." Oh, how grateful were these things to the ears of my good father J When the company was gone, my master asked my father if he smoked. He answered, " No." He made us both sit down by him ; and said, "I have been telling this sweet girl, that in fourteen days, and two of them are gone, she must fix on one to make me happy. I hare left it to her to choose either one of the first or last seven." My father held up his hands and eyas ; " God bless your honour," said he, " is all I can say '." " Now, Pamela," said my master, taking my hand, " don't let a little wrong- timed hashfulness take place, without any other reason, because 1 should be glad to go to Bedfordshire as soon as I could : and I would not return till I carry my servants there a mistress, who should assist me to repair the mischiefs she has made in it." I could not look up for confusion. And my father said, " My dear child, I need not, I am sure, prompt your obedience in whatever will most oblige so good a gentleman." " What says my Pamela ?" said my mas- ter ; " she does not use to be at a loss for expression." " Sir," said I, * were I too sudden, it would seem I doubted whether you would hold in your mind, and was not willing to give time to reflect ; yet, to be sure, I ought to resign myself implicitly to your will." Said he, ' I want not time for reflection ; for I have often told you, and that long ago, I could not live without you : my pride of condition made me both tempt and terrify you to other terms ; but your virtue was proof against all temptations, and was not to he awed by terrors ; where- fore, as I could not conquer my passion for you, I corrected myself, and resolved, since you would not be mine upon my terms, you should upon your own : and now I desire you not on any other, I assure you: and I think the sooner it is done the better. What say you, Mr. Andrews :" " Sir," said he, " there is so much goodness en your sic:-, and, blessed be God ! so much prudence n my daughter's, that I must be quite silent. But when it is done, I and my poor wife shall have nothing to do, but to pray for you both, and so look back with wonder and joy on the ways of Providence." "This," said my master, " is Friday night ; and suppose, my girl, it be next Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday morning ? Say, my Pamela." ' Will you, Sir," said I, ''excuse me till to-morrow for an answer?" PAMELA. 241 -- * ' ' ' - - - - - Pamela's Master compliments her on her happy Style. " I will," said he, and touched the bell, and called for Mrs. Jewkes. " Where," said he, " doe6 Mr. Andrews sleep to-night ? You'll take care of him; he's a very good man; and will bring a blessing upon every house he sets his foot in." My dear father wept for joy ; and I eevld not refrain keeping com- pany. My master, saluting me, bid us good night, and retired. 1 waited upon my dear father, and was so full of prattle, of my master's goodness^ and my future prospects, that i believed afterwards I was turned all into tongue : but he indulged me, and was transported with joy ; and went to bed, dreaming of Jacob's ladder, and angels ascending and descending, to bless him and bis daughter. SATURDAY. I arosf. early in the morning ; but found my father was up, and gone to walk in the garden ; I went to him, and with what delight and thankful- ness did we go over every scene of it, which had before been so dreadful to me : The fish-pond, <4>e back-door, and every place : Oh, what reasbn had we for thankfulness and gratitude I About seven o'clock my^ood master joined us, in his morning gown and slippers ; and looking a little heavy, J said, " Sir, I fear you had not good rest last night." "That is your fault, Pamela," said he: "after leaving you, 1 must needs look into your papers, and could not but read them through ; and so 'twas three o'clock before I went to sleep." " I wish, Sir," said I, "you had had better entertainment." " The worst part of it," said he, ' was what I brought upon myself j and you have not spared me." " Sir " said I. He interrupting me, said, " Well, I for- give you. You had too much reason for it. But I find, that had you got away, you would soon have been Williams's wife." "Indeed, Sir," said I, " I had no notion of it, or of being any body's." " I believe so," said he, " but it must have come as a thing of course ; and I see your father was for it." " Sir," said he, " I little thought of the honour your goodness would confer upon her ; and that would have been a match far above what we could do for her. But when I found she was not for it, I resolved not to urge her; but to leave all to her own prudence." " I 6ee," said he, "all was sincere, honest, and open; I speak of it as a thing, if done, not well to be avoided ; and 1 am satisfied. But," said he, "I must observe, as I have a hundred times, with admiration, what a prodigious memory, and easy and happy manner of narrative, this excel- lent girl has ! And though she is full of her pretty tricks and artifices, to escape the snares I laid for her, yet all is innocent, lovely, and uniformly beautiful. You are exceedingly happy in a daughter; and I hope I shall be so in a wife." " Or," said my father, " may she not have that honour!" " I fear it not/' said he ; " and I hope 1 shall deserve it of her. ad s 242 PAMELA. ' _ i 'iT'U'. v. 11 mtt Pamela's Master advises her to continue her Journal. , . . 1* "But, Pamela," said my master, "I am sorry to find, in some parts of your journal, that Mrs. Jewkes carried her orders a little too far ; and I the more take notice of it, because you have not complained of her beha- viour, as she might expect, for some parts of it ; though a great deal was occasioned by my strict orders^ But she had the insolence to strike my girl, I find." "Sir," said I, "I was a little provoking, I believe; but as we forgave one another, I was the less entitled to complain of her." " Well," said he, " you are very good ; but if you have any particular resentment, I will indulge it so far as that she shall hereafter have nothing to do where you are." "Sir," said I, "you are so kind that I ought to forgive every body ; and when I see that my happiness is brought about by the very means I once thought my greatest grievance, I ought to bless those means, and forgive all that was disagreeable to me at the same time, for the great good that hath issued from it." " That," said he, kissing me, " is sweetly considered ; and it shall be my part to make you amends for what you have suffered, that you may still think lighter of the one, and have cause to rejoice in the other." My dear father's heart was full ; and he said, with his hands folded, and lifted up, " Pray, Sir, let me go let me go to my dear wife, and tell her all these blessed things, while my heart holds ; for it is ready to burst with joy." " Good man," said my master, " I love to hear this honest heart of yours speaking at your lips. I enjoin you, Pamela, to continue your relation, as you have opportunity ; and though your father be here, write to your mother, that this wondrous story be perfect, and we, your friends, may read and admire you more and more." " Ay, pray, pray do, my child," said my father. And this is the reason that I write on, my dear mother, when I thought not to do it, because my father could tell you all that passed while he was here. My master took notice of my psalm, and was pleased to commend it : he said that I had very charitably turned the last verses, which, in the origi- nal, were full of heavy curses, to a wish that proved I was not of an implacable disposition ; though my then usage might have excused it, if I had. " But," said he, " I think you shall sing it to me, to-morrow. " After breakfast," added he, " if you have no objection, Pamela, we'll take an airing together ; and it shall be in the coach, because we'll have your father's company." He would have excused himself; but my master would have it so ; but he was much ashamed because of the meanness of his appearance. My master would make us both breakfast with him on chocolate ; and he said, " I would have you, Pamela, begin to dress as you osed to do ; for now, at least, you may call your two other bundles your own ; and if you want any thing against the approaching occasion, private as I design PAMELA. 243 -' ....-,;.. . i . ... -^ Pamela drejses herself in her best Clothes. it, I'll send to Lincoln for it, by a special messenger." I said, " My good lady's bounty, and his own, had set me much abve my degree, and I had very good things of all sorts ; and I did not desire any other, because I would not excite the censure of the ladies." That would be a different thing, he was pleased to say, when he publicly owned his nuptials, after we came to the other bouse. But, at present, if I was satisfied, he would -not make words with me. " I hope, Mr. Andrews;" said he to my father, "*' you'll not leave us trH you see -the affair over, and then you'll be sure I mean honourably ; be- sides, Pamela will be induced to set the day sooner." " O Sir," said he, " I bless God, -I -have, no reason to doubt jour meaning honourably ; and I hope you'll. excuse me if I set out on Monday morning, very early, to my dear wife, to make her as happy as I am." " Why, Pamela," says my good master, "may it not be performed on Tuesday ? And then your father, may be, will stay. I should have been .glad to have had it to-morrow," added -he ; " but I have sent Monsieur Colbrand for a licence, that you .may have no scruples unanswered ; and he can't very well be back before to-morrow n'^ht, or Monday morning." This was moat agreeable news. I said, "Sir, I know my dear father will want to be at home ; and as you was so good as to give me a fortnight from last Thursday, I should be glad if you would indulge me still to some day in the second seven." " Well," said he, " I will not be too urgent; but the sooner you fix, the better.- Mr. Andrews, we must leave something to these Jephthah's daughter.?, in these cases. I suppose the little bashful folly, which, in the happiest circumstances, may give a kind of regret to quit the maiden state, and an awkwardness at the entrance into a new one, is a reason with Pamela : and so she shall name her day." "Sir," said he, "you are all goodness." I went up soon after, and new dressed myself, taking possession, in a happy moment, I hope, of my two bundles, as my master was pleased to call them (alluding to my former division of those good things my lady and himself bestowed upon me ;) and put on fine linen, silk shoes, and fine white cotton stockings, a fine quilted coat, a delicate green Mantua silk gown and coat, a French necklace, a laced cambric handkerchief, and clean gloves ; and, taking my fan, 1, like a little proud hussy, looked in the glass, and thought myself a gentlewoman once more ; but 1 forgot not to return due thanks, for being able to put on this dress with so much comfort. Mrs. Jewkes would help to dress me ; and complimented me highly, saying, that I now looked like her Wuly indeed ; and as, she ^id, the little chapel was ready, and divint service would be read in it to morrow, she 244 PAMELA. ' . ' . ' ' ' . i '"'. .'-: Jt ; ,, .J 3r Pamela's Master presents her Father with twenty Guineas. wished the happy knot might then be tied. Said she, 9 \l\\e you not seen the chapel, Madam, since it has been cleaned out ?" " No," said 1 1 " but are we to have service in it to-morrow, do you say ? I am glad of that ; for I have been a sad heathen lately, sore against my will !-<-But who is to officiate ?" " Somebody," replied she, " Mr. Peters will send." " You tell me very good news," said I, " Mrs. Jewkes : I hope it will never be a lumber-room again."" Ay," said she, " I can tell you more good news ; for the two Miss Damfords and Lady Jones, are to be here at the opening of it ; and will stay and dine with you." " My master," said I, " has not told me that." " You must alter your style, Madam," Said she ; " it must not be master now', sure '." " Oh," returned I, "that is a language I shall never forget : he shall always be my master ; and I shall think myself more and more his servant." My poor father did not know I went up to dreSs myself; and he said his heart misgave him, when he saw me first, for fear I was made a fool of, and that here was some fine lady who was to be my master's true wife. He stood in admiration, and said, " O my dear child, how well will you become your happy condition. Why, you look like a lady already '." *' I hope, my dear father," said I, " I shall always be your dutiful daugh- ter, whatever my condition be." My master sent me word he was ready ; and, when he saw me, said, " Dress as you will, Pamela, you're a charming girl ;" and so handed me to the coach, and would make my father and me sit both on the foreside, and sat himself over against me, and bid the coachman drive to the mea- dow ; that is, where he once met Mr. Williams. The conversation, as we went, was most agreeable to me and my dear father : and he more and more exceeded in goodness and generosity. While I was gone up to dress, he had presented my father with twenty guineas, desiring him to buy himself and my mother such apparel as they should think proper ; but 1 knew not this till after we came home, my father having no opportunity to tell me of it. He was pleased to inform me of the chapel being in tolerable order ; and said, it looked very well, and against he came down next, -it should be all new white-washed, painted, and lined ; and a new pulpit-cloth, cushion, desk, &c. and be kept in order for the future. He told me the two Miss Damfords and Lady Jones would dine with him on Sunday: " With their servants and mine," said he, " we shall make a tolerable congregation. And," added he, " have I not well contrived to shewyou that the chapel is really a little house of God, and has been consecrated, before we solemnize our nuptials in it ?" " O Sir," replied I, " your goodness to me is inex- pressible !" " Mr. Peters," said he, " offered to officiate in it, but would not stay dinner, because he has company at his own house ; and so I PAMELA. 245 Pamela introduced to Mr. Williams by her Master. intend that divine service shall be performed by one, to whom I shall make some yearly allowance, as a sort of chaplain. You look serious, Pamela," added he : "I know you think of your friend Williams." " Indeed, Sir," said I, * if you won't be angry, I did, poor man ! I am sorry I have been the cause of his disobliging you." On coming to the meadow, where the gentry sometimes walk, the coach stopt, and my master alighting, led me to the brook-side, a very pretty summer walk. < He asked my father, if he chose to walk out, or go on in the coach to the further end? He, poor man, chose to go on in it, for fear, he said, any gentry should be walking there ; and be told me, he was most of the way upon his knees in the coach, thanking God for his gracious mercies ; and begging a blessing upon my good master and me. J was quite astonished, when we came into the shady walk, to see Mr. Williams. " See there," said my master, " poor Williams taking his soli- tary walk again, with his book." It seems, it was so contrived ; for Mr. Peters had been, as I since find, desired to tell him to be in that walk at such an hour in the morning. " So, old acquaintance," said my master, " again have I met you in this place ? What book are you now reading ?" He said, it was Boileau's Lutrin. Said my master, " You see I have brought with me my little fugi- tive, that would have been : while you are perfecting yourself in French, I am trying to learn English ; and hope soon to be master of it." " Mine, Sir," said he, "is a very beautiful piece of French : but your English has no equal." " You are very polite, Mr. Williams," said my master ; " and he that does not think as you do, deserves no share in her. Pamela," added he, very generously, " why so strange, where you was once so familiar ? I do assure you both, I meant not by this interview to insult Mr. Williams, or confound you." Then I said, " Mr. Williams, I am very glad to see you well ; and though the generous favour of my good master has happily changed the scene, since our last interview, I am very glad of an opportu- nity to acknowledge, with gratitude, your good hit, ntions, not sj much to serve me, as me, but as a person that then had great reason to believe herself in distress. And I hope, Sir," added I to my master, "your good- ness will permit me to say this." " You, Pamela," said he, " may make what acknowledgment you ;>lcase to Mr. William .' good intention; and I would have you speak as you think ; but I do not apprehend myself to be quite so much obliged to those intentions." " Sir," said Mr. Williams, " I beg leave to say, I knew that, by educa- tion, you was uo libertine ; nor had I reason to think you so by hiclina- 246 . PAMELA. Mr. Williams's Reasons lor attempting to rescue Pamela. t ion : and when you came to reflect, I hoped you would net be displeased with me. And this was no small motive with me to do at first as I did." " Ay, but, Mr. Williams," said my master, " could you think, I should have had reason to thank you, if, loving one person above all her sex, you had robbed me of her, and married her yourself ? And," said he, ** you are to consider that she was an old acquaintance of mine, but quite a new one to you j that I had sent her down to my own house, for better secur- ing her ; and that you, who liad access to my house, could not effect your purpose, without being guilty, in some sort, of a breach of the laws of hos- pitality and friendship. As to my designs upon her, I own they had not the best appearance : but slrll I was not answerable to Mr. Williams for these : much less could you be excused to invade a property so very dear to me, and to endeavour to gain an interest in her affections, when you could not be certain that matters would not turn out as they have actually done." " I own, said he, " some parts of my conduct seem exceptionable, as you state it. But, Sir, I am but a young man. I meant no harm. I had no interest, I am sure, to incur your displeasure j and when you think of every thing, the inimitable graces of person, and perfections of mind, that adorn this excellent lady (so he called me) your generosity will allow something as an extenuation of a fault which your anger would not permit as an excuse." " I have done," said my master ; " nor did I meet you here to be angry with you. Pamela knew not that she should see you ; and, as you are both present, I would ask you, Mr. Williams, if, now you know my honourable designs towards this good girl, you could really be almost, I will not say quite, as well pleased with the friendship of my wife, as with the favour of Mrs. Andrews ?" " Sir," said he, " I will answer you truly. I think I could have pre- ferred with her, any condition that befel me, had I considered only myself. But, Sir, I was very far from having any encouragement to expect her favour ; and I had much more reason to believe, that, if she could have hoped for your goodness, her heart would have been too much pre-engaged to think of any body else. And give me leave further to say, Sir, that, though I tell you sincerely my thoughts, were I only to consider myself. yet when 1 consider her good, and her merit, I should be highly ungene- rous, were it put to my choice, if I could not wish her in a condition so much superior to what I could raise her to, and so very answerable to her merit." " Pamela," said my master, " you are obliged to Mr. Williams, and ought to thank him : he has distinguished well. But, as for me, who roiejht have lost you by his means, I am glad it was not left to his choice. PAMELA. 247 Mr. "Williams's hi^h Opinion of Pamela. * ' ' Mr. Williams," added he,. " I give you Pamela's hand, because I know it will be pleasing to her, in token of her friendship and esteem for you ; and I give you mine, that I will not be your enemy : but yet I must say, that I think I owe this proper manner of your thinking more to your dis- appointment than to the generosity you talk of." Mr. Williams kissed my hand ; and my master said, " Sir, you will go home and dine with me, and I'll shew you my little chapel ; and, do you, Pamela, look upon yourself at liberty to number Mr. Williams in the list of your friends." How generous, how noble, was this ! Mr. Williams had tears of pleasure in his eyes; I was silent: but Mr. Williams said, "Sir, I shall be taught, by your generosity, to think myself inexcusably wrong, in all that could give you offence ; and my future life shall shew my respectful gratitude." We walked on till we came to the coach, where was my dear father. " Pamela," said my master, " tell Mr. Willaims who that good man is." - " O Mr. Williams!" said I, " it is my dear father:" and my master added, " one of the honestest men in England : Pamela owes every thing that she is to be, as well as her being, to him : for, I think, she would not have brought me to this ; nor made so great resistance, but for the good lessons, and religious education, she had imbibed from him." Mr. Williams said, taking my father's hand, " You see, good Mr. An- drews, with inexpressible pleasure, no doubt, the fruits of your pious care : and will, with your beloved daughter, soon reap its happy effects." " I am overcome," said my dear father, " with his honour's goodness : I can only s.iy, I bless God, and bless ?iim." Mr. Williams and I being nearer the coach than my master, and be offering to draw back to give way to him, he kindly said, " Pray, Mr. Wil- liams, oblige Pamela with your hand, and step in yourself." He bowed, and took my hand ; and my master made him step in, and sit next me, all that ever he could do ; and sat himself over against him, next my iather, who sat against me. And he said, ' Mr. Andrews, I told you, yesterday, that the divine you saw was not Mr. Williams : I now tell youth is gentleman is; and though I have been telling him, I think not myself obliged to his intentions, yet I will own that Pamela and you are ; and though I won't promise to love him, I would have you." " Sir," said Mr. Williams, " you have a way of overcoming, which all my reading scarcely affords an instance of; and it is the more noble, as it is on this side, as I presume, of the happy ceremony ; which, great as your fortune is, will lay you under an obligation to so much virtue and beauty, when the lady becomes yours ; for you will then have a treasure that princes might envy you." s 1 148 PAMELA. Reformation of Pamela's Master. Said my generous master, " Mr. Williams, it is impossible that you and I should long live at variance, when our sentiments so well agree on subjects the most material." 1 was quite confounded ; and my master seein'g it, took my hand, and said, " Look up, my good girl, and collect yourself. Don't injure Mr. Williams and me so much, as to think we are capping compliments, as we used to do verses at school. I dare answer for us both, that we say not a syllable we don't think." " O Sir," said I, " how unequal am I to all this goodness ! Every mo- ment that passes adds to the weight of the obligations you oppress me with." " Think not too much of that," said he, most generously. " Mr. Wil- liams's compliments to you have great advantage of mine . for though equally sincere, I have much to say, and to do, to compensate the suffer- ings I have made you undergo; and at last, must sit down dissatisfied, because those will never be balanced by all I can do for you." He saw my dear father quite unable to support these affecting instances' of his goodness, and he let go my hand, to take his : and said, seeing his tears, " I wonder not, my dear Pamela's father, that your honest heart springs thus to your eyes, to see all her trials at an end. I will not pre- tend to say, that I had formerly either power or will to act thus ; but since I began to resolve on the change you see, I have reaped so much pleasure in it, that my own interest will keep me steady : for, till within these few days, I kuew not what it was to be happy." Poor Mr. Williams, with tears of joy in his eyes, said, * How happily, Sir, have you been touched by the Divine grace before you have been hur- ried into the commission of sins that the deepest penitence could never have atoned for ! God has enabled you to stop short of the evil ; and you have nothing to do but to rejoice in the good, which now will be doubly so, because you can receive it without the least inward reproach." " You do well," said he, " to remind me, that I owe all this to the> grace of God. I bless him for it ; and I thank this good man for his excellent lessons to his daughter: and I hope, from her good example, and your friendship, Mr. Williams, in time to be half as good as my tutoress : and that," said he, " I believe you'll own, will make me, with- out disparagement to any man, the best fox-hunter in England." Mr- Williams, was going to speak ; and he said, " You put on so grave a look, Mr. Williams, that, I believe what I have said, with you practical good folks, is liable to exception : but I see we are become quite grave ; and we must not be too serious neither." What a happy creature, my dear mother, is your Pamela ! Oh, may my thankful heart, and my good use of the blessings before me, continue this PAMELA. 240 Mr. Williams dines with Pamela and her Master. delightful prospect to a long date, for the sake of v the dear good gentle- man, who thus becomes the happy instrument in the hand of Providence to bless all he smiles upon ! To be sure, I shall never enough acknowledge the value he is pleased to express for my unworthioess, in that he has prevented my wishes, and, unasked, sought the occasion of being recon- ciled to a good man, who, for my sake, had incurred his displeasure ; and whose name he could not, a few days before, permit to pass through my lips ! But see the wonderful ways of Providence ! The very things I most dreaded his seeing or knowing, the contents of my papers, have, as I hope, satisfied all his scruples, and been a means to promote my happiness. Henceforth let not us poor short sighted mortals pretend to rely on our own wisdom ; or vainly think, that we are absolutely to direct for ourselves. I have great reason to say, that, when I was most disappointed, I was nearer my happiness : for had I made my escape, which was so often my chief point in view, and what I placed my heart upon, I had escaped the blessings now before me, and fallen, perhaps, headlong into the miseries I would have avoided. And yet, after all, it was necessary I should take the steps I did, to bring on this wonderful turn ; O the unsearchable wisdom of God! And how much ought I to adore the Divine goodness, and humble myself, who an made a poor instrument, as I hope, not only to magnify his graciousness to this gentleman and myself, but also to dispense benefits to others ! Which God of his mercy grant ! In this agreeable manner did we pass the time in our second happy tour ; and I thought Mrs. Jewkes would have sunk into the ground, when she. saw Mr. Williams brought in the coach with us, and treated so kindly. We dined together in a most pleasant, easy, and frank manner ; and I found I needed not, from my master's generosity, to be under any restraint, as to my conduct to this good clergyman : for he, when he fancied me reserved, moved ine to be free, and often called upon me to help my father and Mr. Williams : and seemed to take delight in seeing me carve, as he does in every thing I do. After dinner we went and looked into the chap*!, which is a very decent one ; and when finished, as he designs it against his next coming down, will be a very pretty place. My heart, my dear mother, on (ir^t entering, throbbed with awful joy, at the thoughts of the solemnity, which, I hope, will in a few days be performed here. When I came i;p towards the little pretty altar-piece, while they wore admiring a commu- nion-picture, I gently slept into a corner, out of sight, and poured out my soul to God on my knees, in supplication and thankfulness, that, after having been so long absent from divine service, the tir-t time I entered into a housu dedicated to his honour, should be with such blessed pros- 350 PAMELA. l";i hoIj'.s Master asks Mr. Williams to officiate at the opening of the Chapel. pects before me ; and begging of God to continue me humble, and make me worthy of his mercies ; and that he would be pleased to bless the next author of my happiness, my good master. I heard my master say, " Where's Pamela ?" So I broke off sooner than I would, and went up to him. He said, " Mr. Williams, I hope I have not so offended you by my past conduct (for 1 ought to he ashamed of it) that you will refuse to officiate, and give us your instructions here to-morrow. Mr. Peters was so kind, for the first time, to offer it ; but I knew it would be inconvenient for him ; and, besides, I was willing to make his request to you an introduc- tion to our reconciliation." " Sir," said he, " most willingly, and most gratefully, will I obey you r though, if you expect a discourse, I am wholly unprepared for the occa- sion." '* I would not have it," replied he, " pointed to any particular occasion ; but if you have one upon the text There is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-nine just persons that need no repentance ; and if it make me not such a sad fellow as to be pointed at by mine and the ladies' servants we shall have here, I shah" be well content. "Tis a general subject," added he, " makes me speak of that ; but any one you please will do ; for you cannot make a bad choice, I am sure." " Sir," said he, " I have one upon that text : but I am ready to think that a thanksgiving one, which 1 made on a great mercy to myself, if I may be permitted to make my own acknowledgments of your favour the subject of a discourse, will be suitable to my grateful sentiments. It is on the text Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace ; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." "That text," said I, " will be a very suitable one for me." "Not so, Pamela," said my master ; " because I don't let you depart in peace ; but I hope you will stay here with content." " Oh, but, Sir," said I, " I have seen God's salvation .' and if any body ever had reason, I have, to say, with the blessed Virgin My soul doth magnify the Lord ; for he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden, and exalted one of low degree." Said my good father, " I am sure, if there was time for it, the book of Huth would afford a fine subject for the honour done my dear child." "Why, good Mr. Andrews," said my master, " should you say so? I know that story ; and Mr. Williams will confirm what I say, that my good girl here will confer as much honour as site will receive." " Sir," said I, " you are inexpressibly generous : but I shall never think so." " Why, my Pamela," said he, " that's another thing: it will be PAMELA. 25t Pamela's Master's Generosity to her Father and Mr. Williams. best for me to think you will; and kind in you to tliink you shan't ; and then we shall always have an excellent rule to regulate our conduct to one another." Was not this nobly, wisely said ? Oh, what a blessed thing to be matched to a man of sense and generosity ! How edifying ! How ! But what shall I say ! I am at a loss for words. Mr. Williams said, when we came out of the little chapel, he would look over his discourses, for one for the next day. My master said, " I have one thing to say, before you go When my jealousy, on account of this good girl, put me upon such a vindictive conduct to you, I took a bond far the money 1 had caused you to be troubled for : I really am ashamed of the matter, as I never could intend, when I presented it to you, to have it again, but I knew not how far matters might have gone between you ; and so I was willing to have that in awe over you : I think it is no extraordinary present, therefore, to return you the bond can- celled." So he took it from his pocket, and gave it him. " I think," added he, " all the charges attending it, and the trouble you had, were defrayed by my attorney; I ordered that they should." "They werp, ' Sir," said he j " and ten thousand thanks to you fortius goodness, and the kind manner in which you do it !" " If you will go, Mr. Williams," said he, " shall my chariot carry you home ?" " No, Sir," answered he, " I thank you. My time will be so well employed all the way, in think- ing of your favours, that I choose to meditate upon them, as I walk home." My dear father was a little uneasy about his habit, for appearing at chapel next day, because of Miss Darnfords, and the servants, for fear, poor man, he should disgrace nay master ; and he told me, when he was mentioning this, of my master's kind present of twenty guineas for clothes for you both : which made my heart truly joyful. Hut, oh, to be sure I can never deserve the hundredth part of his goodness '. It is almost a hard thing to lie under the weight of such deep obligations on one side, and such a sense of one's own unworthiness on the other. Oh ! what a godlike power i9 that of doing good! I envy the rich and great for nothing else. My master coming to us just then, I said, "O Sir, will your bounty know no limits ? My dear father has told me what you have given him." "A trifle, Pamela," said he, "a little earnest only of my kindness. Say no more of it. But did 1 not hear the good man expressing a sort of concern for somewhat ? Hide nothing from me, Pamela." " Only, Sir," said I, " he knew not how to absent himself from divine service, and yet is afraid of disgracing you by appearing." " Fie, Mr. Andrews," said he ; " 1 thought you knew that the outward appearance was nothing. I wish I had us good a habit inwardly, as you 252 PAMELA. r ' ' - i ... . . ^ Pamela's Master's Neighbours attend at the opening of the Chapel. have. But I'll tell you, Pamela, your father is not much thinner than I am, nor much shorter ; he and 1 will walk up together to my wardrobe ; though it is not so well stored here, as in Bedfordshire. "And so," said he, pleasantly, "don't you pretend io come near us, till I call you ; for you must not yet see hotf men dress and undress them- selves." " O Sir," said my father, " I beg to be excused. I am sorry you were told."" So am not I," said my master : " pray come along with me." He carried him up stairs, and shewed him several suits, and would have had him take his choice. My poor father was quite confounded : for my master saw not any he thought too good, and my father none that he thought bad enough. And my good master, at last (he fixing his eyes upon a fine drab, which he thought looked the plainest) would help hitn to try the coat and waistcoat on himself; and, indeed, one would not have thought it, because my master is taller, and rather plumper, as I though^; but, as I saw afterwards, they fitted him very well : and being plain, aud IThed with the same colour, and made for travelling in a coach, pleased my poor father much. He gave him the whole suit, and, calling up Mrs. Jewkes, said, " Let these clothes be well aired against to-morrow morning. Mr. Andrews brought only with him his common apparel, not thinking to stay Sunday with us. And pray see for some of my stockings, and whether any of my shoes will fit him : and see also for some of my liaen ; for we have put the good man quite out of his course, by keeping him Sunday over." He was then pleased to give him the silver buckles out of his own shoes. So, my good mother, you must expect to see my dear father a great beau. " Wig," said my master, " he wants none ; for his own venerable white locks are better than all the perukes in England- Bu* 1 am sure I have hats enow somewhere." " I'll take care of every thing, Sir," said Mrs. Jewkes. And my poor father, when he came to me, could not refrain tears. " I know not how," said he, "to comport myself under these great favours. O my child 1 it is all owing to the Divine goodness, and your virtue." Tins blessed day all the family seemed to take delight to equip them- selves for the oelebration of the Sabbath, in the little chapel ; and Lady Jones and Mr. Williams came in her chariot, and the two Miss Darnfords in their own. And we breakfasted together in a most agraeable manner. My dear father appeared quite spruce and neat, and was greatly caressed bv She three ladies. As we were at breakfast, my master told Mr. Wil- li v, we mur.r let the psalms alone, be doubted, for want of a clerk ; but ?,,'. W:I lams said, "No, nothing should be wanting that he could supply." I .her said, if i f . might be permitted him, he would, as well as he was PAMELA. 253 ; , . .- v Pamela's Father officiates as Clerk. able, perform that office ; for it was always what he had taken delight in. And as I knew he had learned psalmody formerly, in his youth, and had constantly practised it in private, at home, on Sunday evenings (as well as endeavoured to teach it in the little school he so unsuccessfully set up, at the beginning of his misfortunes, before betook to hard labour) I was in no pain for his undertaking it in this little congregation. They seemed much pleased with this ; and so we went to chapel, and made a pretty tolerable appearance ; Mrs. Jewkes, and all the servants, attend- ing, but the cook : ad I never saw divine service performed with more solemnity, nor assisted at with greater devotion, and decency ; my master, Lady Jones, and the two Misses, setting a lovely example. My good father performed his part with great applause, making the responses, as if he bad been a practised parish-clerk ; and giving the xxiiid psalm, vhich consisting of but three staves, we had it all j be read the line, and began the tune with a heart so entirely affected with the duty, that he went through it distinctly, calmly, and fervently at the same time ; so that Lady Jones whispered me, that good men were fit for all companies, and present to every laudable occasion : and Miss Damford f aid, " God bless the dear good man 1" You must think how I rejoiced in iny mind. I know, my dear mother, you can say most of the shortest psalms by heart ; so I need not transcribe it, especially as your chief treasure is a Bible, of which 1 know nobody makes more, or better use. Mr. Williams gave an excellent discourse on liberality and generosity, and the blessings attending the right use of riches, from the xith chapter of Proverbs, ver. 24, 25. " There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth ; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. The liberal soul shall be made fat : and he that waterelh, shall be watered also himself." And be treated the subject so handsomely, that my mas- ter's delicacy, who at first feared some personal compliments, was not offended, Mr. Williams judiciously keeping to generals ; and it was an elegant and sensible discourse, as my master said. My father was in the clerk's place, just under the desk: and Lady Jones, by her footman, whispered him to favour us with another psalm, when the sermon was ended. He, thinking that the former was rather of the longest, chose the shortest in the book, which, you know, is the cxviith. My master and the ladies thanked Mr. Williams for his excellent dis- course, and so did I, most heartily : he was pleased to take my dear father by the hand, as did also Mr. Williams, and thanked him. The ladies likewise matlc him their compliments ; and the servants all looked upon him with countenances of respect and pleasure. At dinner, do what I could, I was forced to take the upper end of the 254 PAMELA. , ' -* * Pamela's Master wishes licr to sing her Paraphrase of a Psalm. table, my master sat at the lower end, between Mr. Williams and my father. Said he, " Pamela, you are so dexterous, I think you may help the ladies yourself; and I will help my two good friends." I had dressed t myself in a flowered satin, which was my lady's, and looked quite fresh and good, and was given me, at first, by ray master ; the ladies, who had not seen me out of ray homespun before, made me abundance of fine compliments. Talking of the psalms just after dinner, my master said to my father, " Mr. Andrews, I think in the afternoon, as we shaH have only prayers, we may have one longer psalm ; .what think you of the exxxviith ?" " O good Sir," said I, " pray, pray, not a word more !" " Say what you will, Pamela," said he, "you shadl sing it to us, according to your own version, before these good ladies go away." My father smiled, but was half con- cerned for me, and said, " Will it bear, and please your honour ?" "Oh, ay," said be, " never fear it ; so long as Mrs. Jewkes is not in the hearing.*' This excited all the ladies' curiosity ; and Lady Jones said, she should be loath to desire to hear any thing that would give me concern, but should be glad I would give leave for it. " Madam," ssid I, " I must beg you won't insist upon it. I cannot bear it." " You shall see it, indeed, kidies," Said my master ; " and pray, Pamela, not always as you please, fceitber." " Then, Sir," said I, "not in my hearing, I hope." "Sure, Pamela," returned he, " you would not write what is not fit to be heard." " Sir," said 1, " there are particular cases and occasions that may make a thing passable at one time, but not tolerable at another." " Oh," said he, " let me judge of that as well as you, Pamela. These ladies, know much of your story ; and what they do know is more to your credit than Ktine; so if I am not averse to revive tlie occasion, you may very well bear it." Said he, "I will put you .out of your pain, Panuva : here it is :" and took it out of his pooket. i stood up, and said, " Really, Sir, 1 can't bear it ! I hope you'll allow me to leave the room a minute, if .you will read it." "Indeed, but 1 won't," answered he. Lady Jones said, " Pray, good Sir," don't let us hear it, if Mrs. Andrews be so unwilling." " Wei}, Pamela," said my master, "I will put it to your choice, whether I shall read it now, or you will sing it by-and-by." " That's very hard, Sir," said I. " It must be one, I assure you," -said -he. "Why then, Sir," replied I, "you must do as you please ; for 1 cannot sing it." " Well, then," said my master, " I find I must read it; and yet," added he, " after all, I had as well not, for it is no great reputation to myself." " Oh, then," said Miss Uarnford, " pray let us hear it, to choose." " Why then," proceeded he, " the case was this : Pamela, I find, during PAMELA*. 255 Pamela'? P.iray.hrase of a Psalm. her confinement (that '~, : ' added he, " when she was t3ken prisoner^ in order to make me one ; for that is the upshot of the matter) in the journal she kept, and intended for nobody's perusal, but her parents, tells them, that she was importuned, one Sunday, by Mrs. Jewkes, to sing a psalm ; but her spirits not permitting, she declined it. After Mrs. Jewkes was gone down, she says, she recollected, that the exxxviith psalm was appli- cable to her own case ; and Mrs. Jewkes having often, on other days, in vain, besought her to sing a song, she turned it more to her own supposed case ; and believing she had a design against her honour, and looking upon her as her jailer, she thus gives her version of this psalm. Pray, Mr. Williams, do you read one verse of the common translation, and I will read one of Pamela's." Then Mr. Williams, pulling out his little common prayer-book, read the two first stanzas : I. When we did sit in Babylon, The rivers round about, Then in remembrance of Sion, The tears for grief burst out. II. We hang'd our harps and instruments The willow trees .upon ; For in that place, men, for that use. Had planted many a one. My master then read : When sad I sat in B n hall, All guarded round about, And thought of every absent frit rid, The tears for grief burst out. II. My joys and hopes all overthrown, My heart strings almost broke, Unfit my mind for melody, Much more to bear a joke. The ladies said, it was pretty; and Miss Darnford, that somebody eU* had more need to be concerned than the versifw r. " I knew," said my master, *' I should got no credit by slewing this. But read on ; Mr. Williams." *56 PAMELA. Pamela's Paraphrase of a Psalm. III. Then they, to whom we pris'ners were, Said to us tauntingly, " Now let us bear your Hebrew songs, And pleasant melody." **Now this," said my master, " is very near:" and read, III. Then she, to whom I pris'ner was, Said to me tauntingly, " Now cheer your heart, and sing a song, And tune your mind to joy." " Mighty sweet," said Mr. Williams. " But let us see how the next verse is turned. It is this ;" IV. " Alas V said we, " who can once frame His heavy heart to sing The praises of our living God, Thus under a strange king ?" ** Why," said my master, " it is turned with beautiful simplicity, thus :" IV. " Alas," said I, " how can I frame My heavy heart to sing, Or tune my mind, while thus enthrall'd By such a wicked thing 1" Very pretty," said Mr. Williams. Lady Jones said, " O dear Madam, could you wish that we should be deprived of this new instance of your genius and accomplishments ?" ** Oh !" said my dear father, " you will make my good child proud." " No," said my master, very generously, " Pamela can't be proud. For no one is proud to hear themselves praised, but those v^ho are not used to it. But proceed, Mr. Williams." He read : V. But yet, if I Jerusalem Out of my heart let slide, Then let my fingers quite forget The warbling harp to guide. * Now," said my master, " for Pamela's version "1" PAMELA. 257 Pamela's Paraphrase of a Psalm. But yet, if from my innocence I e'en in thought should slide, Then let my fingers quite forget The sweet spinet to guide. Mr. Williams read : VI. And let my tongue within my mouth Be tied for ever fast, If I rejoice before I see Thy full deliv'rance past. "This also," s?.id my master, " is very near :" VI. And let my tongue within my mouth Be lock'd for ever fast, If I rejoice before I see My full deliv'rance past. " Now, good Sir," said I, "oblige me; don't read any further." "O pray, Madam," said Mr. Williams, " let me beg to ha\e the rest read; for I long to know whom you make the sons of Edom, and how you turn the Psalmist's execra'ions against the insulting Babylonians." " Well, Mr. Williams," replied I, " you should not have said so." " Oh," said my master, " that is one of the best things of all. Poor Mrs. Jewkes stands for Edom's sons ; and we must not lose this, because I think it one of my Pamela's excellences, that though thus oppressed, she prays for no harm upon the oppressor. Bead, Mr. \f illiams, the next stanza." So he read : VII. Therefore, O Lord, remember now The cursed noise and cry, That Edom's sous against us made, When they raz'd our city. VIII. Remember, Lonl, their cruel words, When, with a mighty sound, They cried "Down, yea down with it, Unto the very ground." " Here seems," said my master, " in what I am goiog to read, a little Lit of a curse, but I think it mak^s no ill figure in the comparison." b 9 T 258 PAMELA. i ' - Pamela's Paraphrase of a Psalm. VII. And thou, Almighty, recompense The evils I endure From those who seek my sad disgrace, So causeless to procure. " And now," said he, " for Edoni'6 sons : though a little severe in the imputation." VIII. Remember, Lnrd, this, Mrs. Jewkes, When, with a mighty sound, She cried, " down with her chastity, Down to the very ground 1" " Sure, Sir," said I, " this might 'have been spared !" But the ladies and Mr. Williams said, "No, by no means 1" And I see the poor wicked woman has no favourers among them. " Now," said my master, " read the Psalmist's heavy curses." And Mr. Williams read : IX. Ev'n so shalt thou, O Babylon, At length to dust be brought ; And happy shall that man be call'd That our revenge hath wrought. X. Vea, blessed shall that man be call'd, That takes thy little ones, And dasheth them in pieces small Against the very stones. " Thus," said he, very kindly, " has my Pamela turned these lines :" IX. E'en so shalt thou, O wicked one, At length to shame he brought : And happy shall all those be call'd, That my deliv'rance wrought. X. Vea, blessed shall the man be call'd That shames thee of thy evil, And saves me from thy vile attempts, , And thee, too, from the d f. " I fancy this blessed man," said my master, smiling, " was, at that time, hoped to be you, Mr. Willianis,4f the truth was known." " Sir,' PAMELA. 559 The Psalm at afternoon Prayers said he, " whoever it was intended for then, it can be nobody but your good self now." I could hardly hold up ray head for the praises the kind ladies were pleased to heap upon me. I am sure, by this, they are very partial in my favour ; all because my master is so good to me, and loves to hear me praised ; for I see no such excellence in these lines as they would make me believe, but what is borrowed from the Psalmist. We all, as before, and the cook-maid too, attended the prayers of the church in the afternoon ; and my dear father concluded with the follow- ing stanzas of the cxlvth psalm ; suitably magnifying the holy name of God for all mercies ; but did not observe altogether the method in which they stand ; which was the less necessary, he thought, as he gave out the lines : The Lord is just in all his ways : His works ate holy all : And he is near ail those that do In truth upon him call. He the desires of all of them That fear him will fulfil ; And he will hear them when they cry And save them all he will. The eyes of all who wait on thee Thou dost them all relieve : AnJ thou to each sufficient food In season due dost give. Thou openest thy plenteous hanJ, And bounteously dost fill All things whatever, that do li\e, With gifts of thy good-will. My thr.nkful mouth shall gladly speak 'I he praises of the Lo.d ; All fle^h, to praise his holy name, For ever shall accord. We walked in the garden ~ '1 t< a was ready ; and as lie went by the back-door my master said to me, " (if all the flowers in tLc garden the sun-flower is the fairest .'" " O Sir," said I, " let that now !e forgot !" Mr. Williams heard him say so, and seemed a httle out of countenance : whereupun my master said, " I mean ! >t to make you serious, Mr. Wil- liams; but. we see how strangely ll. ;ig r , are brought about. I see other scenes hereabouts, that, in my Pamela's ('.angers, give me more cause of 260' PAMELA. Pamela's solemn View of celebrating Marriage. concern, than any thing you ever did should give you." " Sir," said he, " you are very generous." My master and Mr. Williams afterwards walked together for a quarter of an hour, and talked about general things, and some scholastic subjects ; and joined us, very well pleased with one another's conversation. Lady Jones said, putting herself on one side me, as my master was on the other, " But pray, Sir, when is the happy time to be ? We want it over, that we may have you with us as long afterwards as you can." Said my master, " I would have it to-morrow, or next day at farthest, if Pamela will : for I have sent for a licence, and the messenger will be here to- night, or early in the morning, 1 hope. But," added he, " pray, Pamela, do not take beyond Thursday." She was pleased to say, " Sure it will not be delayed by you, Madam, more than needs '." "Well," said he, " aow you are on my side, I will leave you with her to settle it : and I hope she will not let little bashful niceties be important with her " and so he joined the two Misses. Lady Jones told me I was to blame, she would take upon her to say, if I delayed it a moment ; because she understood Lady Davers was very uneasy at the prospect that it would be so ; and if aiiy thing should hap- pen, it would be a sad thing 1" " Madam," said I, " when he was pleased first to mention it, he said it should be in fourteen days ; and afterward'* asked me if I would have it in the first or the second seven. 1 answered (for how could I do otherwise?) 'In the second.' He desired it might not be the last day of the second seven. And as he was then pleased to speak his mind, no doubt, I would not, for any thing, seem too forward." " Well but," said she, " as he now urges you in so gentlemanly a man- ner for a shorter day, I think, if I was in your place, I would agree to it." She saw me hesitate and blush, and said, " Well, you know best ; but I say only what I would do." I said, I would consider of it ; and if I saw he was very earnest, I should think I ought to oblige him. Miss Darnfords were begging to be at the wedding, and to have a ball ; and they said, " Pray, Mrs. Andrews, second our requests, and we shall be greatly ebliged to you." " I cannot," said I, " promise that, if I might." " Why so ?" said they. " Because," answered I, "I know not what! But, I think one may with pleasure celebrate an anniversary of one's nuptials, but the day itself Indeed, ladies, I think it too solemn a matter for the parties of our sex to be very gay upon ; it is a serious and awful affair ; and I am sure, in your own cases, you would be of my mind." "Why, then," said Miss Darnford, " the more need one has to be light-hearted and merry." " I told you," said my ina=ter, " what sort of an answer you'd have from Pamela." The younger Miss said she never heard of such grave PAMELA. 261 Pamela's Father prepares to return Home. folks in her life, on such an occasion : " Why, Sir," said she, " I hope you'll sing psalms all day, and Miss will fast and pray ! Such sackcloth and ashes doings, for a wedding, I never heard of." She spoke a little spitefully, 1 thought; and I returned no answer. I shall have enough to do, I reckon, in a while, if I am to answer every one that will envy me. We went in to tea, and all the ladies could prevail upon my master for, was a dancing match before he left this country ; but Miss Darnford said, it should then be at her house ; for, truly, if she might not be at the wedding, she would be affronted, and come no more hither, till we had been there. When they were gone, my master would have had my father stay till the affair was over; but he begged to set out as soon as it was light in the morning ; for, he said, my mother would be doubly uneasy at his stay, and he burned with impatience to let her know all the happy things that had befallen her daughter. When my master found him so desirous tc go, he called Mr. Thomas, and ordered him to get a particular bay horse ready early in the morning, for my father, an* a portmanteau to put his things in, and to attend him a day's journey : " If," said he, " Mr. Andrews chooses it, see him safe to his own home : and," added he, " since that horse will serve you, Mr. Andrews, to ride backwards and forwards to see as, when we go into Bedfordshire, I make you a present of it, with the accoutrements." Seeing my father going to speak, he added, " I won't be said nay." Oh, Low good was this '. He also said many kind things at supper-time, and gave him all my papers; but desired, when he and my mother had read them, that he would return them to him again. And then he said, " So affectionate a father and daughter may perhaps be glad to be alone together ; therefore xemembtr me to your good wife, and tell her I hope, before long, to sie you together, on a visit to your daughter, at my other house : so 1 wish you good night, and a good journey, if you go before I see you." Then he shook hands, and left my dear father almost unable to speak, through the sense of his favours and goodness. You may believe, my dear mother, how loath I was to part w ith my father; who was also unwilling to part with me ; but he was so impatient to see you, and tell you the blessings with which hU heart overflowed, that 1 could not detain him. Mrs. Jewkes brought two bottles of eherry-brandy, two of cimjann.n water, and some cake ; they were put up in the portmanteau, with im father's newly- presented clothes ; for he said he would not for any thin;; be seen in them, in his neighbourhood, till I was publicly known to l>e married ; nor would he lay out any p;.rt ot the twenty guineas till then, for fear of reflections, and would consult me as to wbut lie should t.\s . r :? 262 PAMELA. 1 1 . .' - . i ljv^. " i , ' j" , i 'r Tami'la's Matter iirijes her to fix the Day for tlicir Marriage. ' " . . . . - - ; - - _-_ _-__ r ,- , .--* ** Well," said I, " as you please, my dear father ; and I hope now we shall often have the pleasure of hearing from one another, without needing any art or contrivance." He said he would go to bed betimes, that he might be up as soon as it was light ; and so he took leave of me, arid said he would not love me if I got up in the morning to see him go, which would but make us the more loath to part, and grieve us both all day. Mr. Thomas brought him a pair of boots, and told him he would call him up at peep of day, and put up every thing at night ; and so I received his blessing, and his prayers, and his kind promises of procuring the same from you, my dear mother, and went up to my closet with a hea 1 y heart, yet a half pleased one, if I may so say ; for that, as he must go, he was going to the best of wives, and with the best of tidings. But I begged he would not work so hard as he had done ; for I was sure my master would not have given him twenty guineas for clothes, if he had not designed to do something else for him ; and that he should be the less concerned at receiving benefits from my good master, because he, who had so many persons to employ in his large possessions, could make him ser- viceable to a degree equivalent, without hurting any body else. He promised me fair ; and pray, dear mother, set he performs. I hope my master will not see this : for I will not send it to you, till I can send you the best of news ; and the rather, as my der-.r father can supply the greatest part of what I have written since the papers he carries you, by his own observation. So good night, my dear mother: and God send my father a safe journey, and a happy meeting to you both. Mr. Colbrand being returned, my master came up to my closet, and brought me the licence. Oh, how my heart fluttered at the sight of it '. " Now, Pamela," said he, " tell me, if you can oblige roe with the day. Your word is all that's wanting." I made bold to kiss his dear hand ; and, though unable to look up, said, " I know not what to say, Sir, to all your goodness : I would not, for any consideration, that you should believe me capable of receiving negligently an honour, that all the duty of a long life, were it to be lent me, will not be sufficient to enable me to be grate- ful for. I ought to resign myself, in every thing I may or can, implicitly to your will. But " "But what?" said he, with a kind impatience, " Why, Sir," said I, " when from last Thursday you mentioned fourteen d\vs, I had reason to think that term your choice ; and my heart is so wholly jours, that I am afraid of nothing, but being forwarder than you wish." " Impossible, my dear creature !" said he, folding me in his arms : " impossible ! If this be all, it shall be set about this moment, and PAMELA. 263 Pamela's Reasons lor fixing on Tnursday. this happy day shall make you mine ! I'll send away instantly," said the dear gentleman ; and was going, I said, " No, pray, Sir, pray, Sir, hear me ! Indaed it cannot be to- day !" " Cannot '." said he. " No, indeed, Sir '." said I ; and was ready to sink, to see his generous impatience ! " Why flattered you tbeji my fond heart," replied he, " with the hope that it might ?" ." Sir," said I, "I will tell you what I had thought, if you'll vouchsafe me your atten- tion." " Do, then," said he". "I have,. Sir, a great desire, that whenever the day is, it may be on a Thursday. On a Thursday my dear father and mother were married, and, though poor, they are a very happy pair : on a Thursday your poor Pamela was born : on a Thursday my dear good , lady took me from my parents into her protection : on a Thursday, Sir, you caused me to be carried away to this place, to which I now, by God's goodness, and your favour, owe so amazingly all my present prospects : and on a Thursday it was you named to me that fourteen days from that you would confirm my happiness. Now, Sir, if you please to indulge ray superstitious folly, you will greatly oblige me : I was sorry, Sir, for this reason, when you bid me not defer till the last day of the fourteen, that Thursday in next week was that last day." " This, Pamela, is a little superstitious, I must needs say ; and I think you should begin now to make another day in the week a happy one : as, for example, on a Monday, may you say, my father and mother concluded to be married on the Thursday following. On a Monday, so many years ago, my mother was preparing all her matters to be brought to bed on the Thursday following. On a Monday, scren weeks ago, it was that you had but two days more to stay, till you was carried away on Thursday. On a Monday, I myself," said he, " well remember it was, that I wrote you the letter which prevailed on you so kindly to return to me ; and on the -ame day, you did return to my bouse here ; which I hope, my girl, will be as propitious an era as any you have named ! and now, lastly, will you say, which will crown the work ; and, on a Monday, 1 was married. Come, come, my dear," added he, " Thursday has reigned long enough o' conscience ; let us now set Monday in its place, or, at least, on equality with it, since you see it has a very good title, and as we now stand in the week before us, claims propriety ; then, 1 hope, we shall make Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, as happy days as Monday and 'J lmrsday ; and so, by God's blessing, move round, as the days move, in a delightful circle, till we are ;.t a loss what da\ to prefer to tin n,-t." Oh, how charming was tin- said '. And how sweetly kind '. " Indeed, Sir," said 1, "you rally my folly very agreeably ; but don't let a little matter stand in the way, when you are so generously obliging in greater : indeed I like Thursday best, if I may choose." I 1 264 PAMELA. = The Day fixed for the Marriage. " Well, then," said he, **. if you can say you have a better reason than this, I will oblige you ; else I'll send away for the parson this moment." And so, I protest, he was going! Dear Sirs, how I trembled! " Stay, stay, Six," said I : " we have a great deal to say first ; I have a deal of silly prate to trouble you with !" " Well, say then, in a minute," replied he, " the most material : for all we have to say may be talked of while the parson is coming." " Oh, but indeed," said I, " it cannot be to-day !" " Well, then, shall it be to-morrow ?" said he. " Why, Sir, if it must not be on a Thursday, you have given so many pleasant distinctions for a Monday, let it then be next Monday ?" " What, a week still !" said he. "Sir," answered I, "if you please, for that will be as you enjoined within the second seven days." " Why, girl," said he, " 'twill be seven months till next Monday. Let it," said he, " if not to-morrow, be on Wednesday ; I protest I will stay no longer." " Then, Sir," returned I, " please to defer it for one day more, and it will be my beloved Thursday." " If I consent to defer it till then, may I hope, my Pamela," said he, ' that next Thursday shall certainly be the happy day ?" " Yes, Sir," said I ; and I am sure I looked very foolishly. Yet, my dear father and mother, why should I, with such a fine gentleman, whom I so dearly love, and so much to my honour too ? But there is something greatly awful upon my mind, in the solemn circumstance, and a change of condition nfever to be recalled, though all the prospects are so desirable. And I can but wonder at the thoughtless precipitancy with which most young folks run into this important change of life ! So now, my dear parent?, have I been brought to fix so near a day as next Thursday ; and this is Monday. O dear, it makes me out of breath almost to think of it. This was a great cut off; a whole week out of ten days. I hope I am not too forward ! Yet, if it obliges my dear master, I am justified ; for he deserves of me all things in my power. After this he rode out on horseback, attended by Abraham, and did not return till night. How, by degrees, things steal upon one. I thought even this small absence tedious, and the more, as we expected him to dinner. I wish I may not be too fond, and make him indifferent; but you, my dear father and mother, were always fond of one another, and never indifferent, let the world run as it would. When he returned, he said he had a pleasant ride, and was led out to a greater distance than he intended. At supper he told me, that he had r\ great mind Mr. Williams should marry us ; because, he said, it would shew a thorough reconciliation on his part " But," said he ; most generously, " I am apprehensive, from what passed between you, the poor man would take it hardly, and as a sort of insult, which I am not capable of. What says my girl ? Do vou think he would ?" " I hope not, Sir/' said, PAMELA. 265 Pamela and her Master converse respecting Lady Pavers'* Letter. I : " as to what he may think, I can't answer ; but as to any reason for his thoughts, I can: for indeed, Sir," said I, "you have been already so generous, that he cannot, I think, mistake your goodness." He then spoke with resentment of Lady Davers's behaviour, and I asked if an thing new had occurred. " Yes," said he, " I have had a letter from her impertinent husband, professedly at her instigation, that amounted to little less than a piece of insolent bravery, on supposing I was about to marry you. I was so prsvoked," added he, " that, after I had read it, I tore it in a hundred pieces, scattered them in the air, and bid the man who brought it let his master know what I had done with his letter, and would not permit him to speak to me, as he would fain have done. I think the fellow talked somewhat of his lady coming hither : but she shall not set a foot within my doors ; and I suppose this treatment will hin- der her." I was much concerned at this ! and he said, " Had I a hundred sisters, Pamela, their opposition should have no Weight with me : I did not intend you should know it ; but you must expect a littie difficulty from the pride of my sister, who has suffered so much from that of her brother; and we are too nearly allied in mind, as well as blood, I find. But this is not htr business : and if she would have it so, she should have done it with more decency. Little occasion had she to boast of her birth, that knows not what belongs to good manners." I said, " I am very sorry, Sir, to be the unhappy occasion of a misun- derstanding between so good a brother and so worthy a sister." "Don't sny so, Pamela, because this is an unavoidable consequence of the happy prospect before us. Only bear it well yourself, because she is my sister ; and leave it to me to make her sensible of her own rashness." " If, Sir," said I, " the most lowly behaviour, and humble deportment, and in every thing shewing a dutiful regard to good Lady Davers, will have any weight with her ladyship, assure yourself of all in my power to mollify her." " No, Pamela," returned he, " don't imagine, when you ' are my wife, I will suffer you to do any thing unworthy of that character. 1 know the duty of a husband, and will protect your gentleness to the utmost, as much as if you were a princess by descent." " You are inexpressibly good, Sir," said 1 ; " but I am far from taking a gentle disposition to shew a meanness of spirit : tins is a trial I ought . to expect; and well may I bear it, that have so many benefits to set against it which .ill spring from the same cause." " Well," said he, " all the matter shall be this: we will talk of our marriage as a thing to be done next week. I find 1 have spies upon me wherever 1 go, and whatever I do : but now I am on so laudable a pursuit, that I value them not, nor those who employ them. 1 have already ordered my servants to have no 2S PAMELA. Tanicla entertained by her Master's agreeable Conversation. eoiiference with any body for ten or twelve days to come. And Mrs. Jewkes tlls nie every one names Thursday come sevennight for our nuptials. So I will get Mr. Peters, who wants to see my little chapel, to assist Mr. Williams, under the notion of breakfasting with nie next Thursday morning, since yon won't have it sooner ; and there will nobody lse be wanting ; and I will beg of Mr. Peters to keep it private, even from his own family, for a few days. Has my girl any objection ?" "O Sir," answered I, "you are so generous in all your ways, I cun have no objection ! But I hope Lady Davers and you will not proceed to irreconcilcable lengths, and when her ladyship comes to see you, and to tarry with you two or three weeks, as she used to do, I will keep close up, *aas not to disgust her with the sight of me." " Well," said he, " we will talk of that afterwards. You must do then as I shall think fit : and I shallbe able to judge what both you and I ought to do. But what still aggravates the matter is, that she should instigate the titled ape, her hus- "batwl,, to write to me, after she had so little succeeded herself. I wish I had kept bis letter, that I might have shewn you how a man, that gene- Bally sctelike a fool, can take upon him to write like a lord. But I suppose X is of my sister's penning, and he, poor man \ is the humble copier. Tl-'F.SDAY. Mr. TlloMAS is returned from you, my dear father, with the good news of your health, and your proceeding in your journey to my dear mother. My master has just now been making nie play upon the spinet, and sing to it ; and commended me for both. But he does so in all 1 do, so partial does his goodness make him to me. ,$ ONE O'CLOCK. We are just returned from an airing; and I have been delighted with hi* conversation upon English authors, poets particularly. He enter- tained me also with a description of some of the curiosities he bad seen in Italy and France, when he made what the polite world call the grand tour. He said he wanted to be at his other seat ; for he knew not well how to employ himself'hcre, having not purposed to stay half the time. "Pamela," said he, " you will hardly be troubled with so much of my company, after we are settled there ; for I have many things to adjust : and 1 must go t;> London : having accounts run on longer than ordinary with my banker. I don't know,*' added he, " but the ensuing winter I may give you a taste nl the diversions of the town for a month or so." I said his w'M and pleasure should determine mine ; and 1 never could have a desire after those or any other entertainments that were not in his own choice. lie was pleaded to say, " I make no doubt of being very happy in you ; a:rd hope you will be so in me : for," said he, " I have no very enormous PAMELA. 267 Pamela's Master comments her for her Religion. vices to gratify, though I pretend not to the greatest purity, neither." "Sir," said I, "if you can account to your own mind, I shall always be easy in whatever you do. Our greatest happiness here, Sir, is of very short duration ; and this life, at the longest, is a poor transitory one ; and I hope we shaH be so happy as to be enabled to look forward, with comfort, to anoth r, where our pleasures will he everlasting." " You say well, Pamela ; and I shall, by degrees, be more habituated to this way of thinking, as I more and more converse with you ; but you must not be over-serious with me, all at once : though I charge you never forbear to mingle your sweet divinity in our conversation, whenever it can be brought in apropos, and with such a cheerfulness of temper, as shall not throw a gloomy cloud over our innocent enjoyments." I was abashed at this, and silent, fearing I had offended : but he said, " If you attend rightly to what I said, I need not tell you again, Pamela, not to be discouraged from suggesting to me, on every proper occasion, the pious impulses of your own amiable mind." " Sir," said I, " you will be always indulgent, I make no doubt, to my imperfections, so long as I mean well." My master made me dine with him, and would eat nothing but what 1 helped him to : my heart is, every hour more enlarged with his goodness and condescension. But still what ails me, I wonder ! a strange sort of weight hangs upon my mind, as Thursday draws on, which makes me often sigh involuntarily, and damps the pleasures of my delightful pros- pects ! I hope this is not ominous, but only the foolish weakness of an over-thoughtful mind, on an occasion the most solemn and important of n one's life, next to the last scene, which shuts up all. H I could be very serious ! But I will commit all my ways to that blessed Providence, which hitherto has so wonderfully conducted me, through real evils, to this hopeful situation. I only fear that I shall be too unworthy to hold the affections of so dear a gentleman I God teach me humility, anl to know my own demerit ! And this will be, next to his grace, my surest guide in the state of life to which, though most unworthy, I am going to be exalted. Don't cea<=e your prayers for me, my dear parents ; for, perhaps, this new condition may be subject to still worse hazards than those I have escaped ; should conceitedncss, vanity, and pride, take hold of my frail heart ; and if I was, for my sins, to he left to my own conduct, a frail bark in a tempestuous ocean, without ballast, or other pilot than my cwn inconsiderate will. But my master said, on another occasion, that those who doubted most, always erred least ; and 1 hope I shall always doubt my own strength, my own unworthiness. I will not trouble you with twenty sweet agreeable things that passed in conversation with my excellent benefactor ; nor with the civilities of 268 PAMELA. Pajncla's Master's Affectionate Behaviour toward? her Mr. Colbrand, Mrs. Jewkes, and all the servants, who seem to be highly pleased with my conduct to them : and as my master, hitherto, finds no fault that I go too low, nor they that I carry it too high, I hope I shall con' tinue to have every body's good will. Yet I will not seek to gain any one's by little meannesses or debasements ; but aim at an uniform and regular conduct, willing to conceal involuntary errors, as I would have my own forgiven ; and not too industrious to discover real ones, or to hide such, if any appear, as might encourage bad hearts, or unclean hands, in cases, where my master should receive damage, or the morals of the transgres- sors seem wilfully and habitually corrupt. In short, I will endeavour, all I can, that good servants shall find in me a kind encourager ; indifferent ones be made better, by inspiring them with a laudable emulation ; and bad ones, if not too bad in nature, and quite irreclaimable, reformed by kindness, expostulation, and even proper menaces if necessary, but most by a good example : all this, if God pleases. WEDNESDAY. Now, my dear parents, I have but this one day, between mc and the most solemn rite that can be performed. My heart cannot yet shake off this heavy weight. Sure I am ungrateful to the Divine goodness, and the favour of the best of benefactors '. Yet I hope I am not ! For, at times, my mind is all exultation, with the prospect of what good to-morrow's happy solemnity may, by the leave of my generous master, put it into my power to do. Oh, how shall I find words to express, as I ought, my thank- fulness, for all the mercies before me ! WEDNESDAY EVENING. My dear master is all love and tenderness '. He sees my weakness, and generously pities and comforts me ! I begged to be excused supper ; but he brought ine down himself from my closet, and placed me by him, bid- ding Abraham not wait. I could not eat, and yet I tried, lest he should be angry. He kindly forbore to hint any thing of the dreadful, yet de- lightful to-morrow ! and put, now and then, a little bit on my plate, and guided it to my mouth. I was concerned to receive his goodness with so ill a grace. " Well," said he," if you won't eat, drink at least with me." I drank two glasses, by his over-persuasions, and said, " I am really ashamed of myself." " Why, indeed," said he, '* my dear girl, 1 am not a very dreadful enemy, I hope ! I cannot bear any thing that is the least concerning to you." " O Sir," said I, ** all is owing to my sense of my own unworthiness ! To be sure, it cannot be any thing else." He &ug for the tilings to be taken away, and then reaching a chair, sat down, and with his arms about me, said the most generous and affecting things that ever dropt from the honey-flowing mouth of Love. All I have PAMELA. 269 on her Timidity at their approaching Nuptials. *- not time to repeat : some 1 will. And, oh ! indulge your foolish daughter, who troubles you with her weak nonsense ; because what she has to say, is so affecting to her ; and if she went to bed, instead of scribbling, she could not sleep. . " This sweet confusion and thonghtfulness, in my beloved Pamela/' said be, " on the near reproach of our happy union, when I hope all doubts are cleared up, aivd nothing of dishonour apprehended, shew me plainly, what a wretch 1 was to attempt 6uch purity with a worse inten- tion : no wonder that one so virtuous should find herself deserted of life itself on a violence so dreadful to her honour, and seek a refuge in the shadow of death. But now, my dearest Pamela, that you have seen % purity on my side, as nearly imitating your own as our sex can shew to yours ; and since I have, all this day, suppressed even the least intimation of the coming day, that I might not alarm your tender mind ; why all this concern ? why all this affecting, yet sweet confusion ? You have a gener- ous friend, my dear girl, in me ; a protector now, not a violater of your innocence : why then, once more I ask, this strange perplexity, this sweet confusion ?" " O Sir," said I, and hid my face in his arms, " expect not reason from a foolish creature : you shuuld have still indulged me in my closet : I am ready to beat myself for this ungrateful return to your goodness. But I know not what! I am, to be sure, a silly creature. Oh, had you but suffered me to stay by myself above, I should have made myself ashamed of so culpable a behaviour ! But goodness added to goodness eveiy moment, and the sense of my own unworthiness, quite overthrew my spirits." " Now," said the generous man, " will I, though reluctantly, make a proposal to my sweet girl. If I have been too pressing for the day ; if another will still be more obliging ; if you have fears that will not then be, say but the word, and I'll submit. Yes, my Pamela ; for though I have, these three days past, thought every tedious hour a day, till Thurs-. day comes, if you earnestly desire it, I will pospone it. Say, my dear girl, freely say ; but accept not my proposal without great reason, which yet 1 will not ask for." " Sir," said I, " I can expect nothing but superlative goodness from you. This is a most generous instance of it : but I fear yes, I fear it will be too much the same thing, some days hence, when the happy, yet. fool that I am! dreaded time shall be equally near." "Kind, lovely charmer!" said he, " now do I see you are to be trusted with power, from the generous use you make of it : not one offensive word or look, from me, shall Wjund your nicest thoughts ; but 'pray try to sub^je this over-scrupulousness, and unseasonable timidity. I persuade my-clf you will if you can." 70 PAMELA. Pamela's Fear of the World's Reproaches. * Indeed, Sir, I will," said I ; " for I am quite ashamed of myself, with all these lovely views before me! The honour you do me, the kindness you shew me ! I cannot forgive myself! For, oh ! if I know the least of this idle foolish heart of mine, it has not a misgiving thought of your goodness ; and I should abhor it if it were capable of the least affecta- tion. But, dear good Sir, leave me a little to myself, and I will take my- self to a severer task than your goodness will let you do : and present my heart before you, a worthier offering than its wayward follies will now let it seem to be. But one thing is, having no kind friend, of one's own sex, to communicate my foolish thoughts to, and to be strengthened by their conrfortings, I am left to myself; and, oh ! what a weak silly thing I am!" He kindly withdrew, for me to recollect myself, and, in about half an hour, returned ; and then, that he might not begin at once upon the sub- ject, but say something agreeable to me, said, " Your father and mother have had a great deal of talk by this time, about you, Pamela." " O Sir," returned I, " your goodness has made them quite happy. But I can't help being concerned about Lady Davers." He said, " I am vexed I did not hear the footman out, because it runs . in my head he talked somewhat about her coming hither. She will meet with but an indifferent reception from me, unless she comes resolved to behave better than she writes." *' Pray, Sir," said I, " be pleased to bear with my good lady, for two reasons." " What are they ?" said he. " Why, first, Sir," answered I, " because she is your sister ; and may very well think, what all the world will, that you have much undervalued yourself in making me happy. Next, because, if her ladyship finds you out of temper with her, it will aggravate her still more against me ; and every time that any warm words, used between you, come into her mind, she will disdain me more." " Don't concern yourself about it," said he : " for we have more proud ladies than she in our other neighbourhood, who, perhaps, have still less reason to be punctilious about their descent, and yet will form themselves upon her example, and say, " Why, his own sister will not forgive him, nor visit him I" If I can subdue her spirit, which is more than her hus- band ever could, or indted any body else, it is a great point gained ; and, if she gives me reason, I'll try for it, I assure you. " Well, but my dear girl," continued he, " since the subject is so impor- tant, may I not say one word about to-morrow ?" " Sir," said I, " I hope I shall be less a fool : I have talked as harshly to my heart as Lady Davers can dc*; and it suggests to me a better and more grateful behaviour." He smiled, and kissing me, said, " I took notice, Pamela, of what you observed, that you have none of your own sex with you : I think it is a PAMELA. 271 Grateful Overflowings of Pamela's Heart. little hard ; and I should like you to have had Miss Darnford ; but then her sister must have been asked ; and I might as well make a public wed- ding, which, you know, would require clothes, and other preparations.** " Besides," added he, " a foolish proposal was once made me of that second sister, who has two or three thousand pounds more than the other, left her by her grandmother, and she can't help being a little piqued : though," said he, " they could not expect it to succeed ; for there is nothing in her person nor mind : and her fortune, the only inducement, would not do by any means ; so I discouraged it at once." " I am thinking Sir," said I, " of another mortifying thing too ; that were you to marry a lady of birth and fortune answerable to your own, all the eve to the day would be taken up in reading, singing, and sealing set- tlements, and portions, and such like: but now the ]m>o: Pamela brings ydu nothing at all ; and the very clothes she wears arc entirely the effects of your bounty, and that of your good mother : this makes me a little sad-; for, alas! Sir, I am so much oppressed by your favours, and a sense of my obligations, that I cannot look up with the confidence I otherwise should on this awful occasion." *' There is, my dear Pamela," said he, " where the power is wanting, as much generosity in the will as in the action. To all that know your story, and your merit, it will appear that I cannot recompense you for what I made you suffer. You have had too many hard struggles and ex- ercises ; and have nobly overcome; and who shall grudge you the reward of the hard-bought victory ? This affair is so much the act of my own will, that I glory in being capable of distinguishing so much excellence, and my fortune is the more pleasurable to me, as 1 hope to make you some iatisfaction for the past." " This, Sir," said I, " is all goodness, unmerited on my side ; and makes my obligations the greater! I can but wish for more worthiness ! But how poor is it to offer words only for such generous deeds '. And to say I wish For what is a wish but the acknowledged want of power tw oblige, and a demonstration of one's poverty in every thing hut will." " And that, my dear girl," sakl he, " is every tiling! 'tis :>11 I want . 'tis all that heaven itself requires of us : but no more of these little douhts, though they are the natural impulses of a generous and grateful heart. I want not to be employed in settlcmt tits. Those are for such to regard, who make convenii nee and fortune the prime considerations. 1 have possessions ample enough for us both ; you deserve to share thou with me ; and you shall do it, with as little reserve as if you had brought me what the world reckons an equivalent : for you bring mr v, hat is in- finitely more valuable an experienced truth, and well-tie d \ irtue, and a wit and behaviour more than equal to the station you will Le placed Lit- 272 TAMELA. Arrangements for keeping private the Marriage. . , to say nothing of this sweet person, that itself might captivate a monarch ; and of the meekness of temper, and sweetness of disposition, which makes ; you superior to all the women I ever saw." Thus kind and soothing, and honourably affectionate, was the dear gen- tleman, to the unworthy, doubting, yet assured Pamela ; and thus pa- tiently did he indulge, and generously pardon, my impertinent weakness. He offered to go himself to Lady Jones, in the morning, and reveal the matter to her, and desire her secrecy and presence ; but I said that would disoblige the young Lady Darnfortls. " No, Sir," said I, " I will cast myself upon your generous kindness ; far why should I fear the kind pro- tector of my weakness, and the guide and director of my future steps ?" " You cannot," said he, " forgive Mrs. Jewkes, for she must know it, and suffer her to be with you ?" " Yes, Sir," said, I, " I can, she is very civil to me now; and her former wickedness I will forgive, for the sake of the happy fruits that have attended it, and because you mention her." " Well," said he, " I will call her in, if you please." " As you please, Sir," said I. And he rang for her: and when she came in, he said, " Mrs- Jewkes, I am going to entrust you with a secret." " Sir," answered she, " I will be sure to keep it as such." " Why," said he, " we intend to- morrow, privately as possible, for our wedding-day, and Mr. Peters, and Mr. Williams are to be here, as to breakfast with me, and to shew Mr. Peters my little chapel. When the ceremony is over, we will take a little airing in the chariot, as we have done before ; so it will not be wondered that we are dressed. The two parsons have promised secrecy, and will go home. I believe you cannot well avoid letting one of the maids into the secret ; but that I'll leave to you." " Sir," replied she, " we all concluded it would be in a few days ; and I doubt it won't be long a secret." " No," said he, " I don't desire it should ; but you know we are not provided for a public wedding, and I shall declare it when we go to Bedfordshire, which won't be long. But the men, who lie in the out-houses, need not know it ; for, by some means or other, my sister Davers is acquainted with all that passes." " Do you know, Sir," said she, " that her ladyship intends to be down here with you, in a few days ? Her servant told me so, who brought you the letter you was angry at." -" I hope," said he, " we shall be set out for t'other house first ; and shall be pleased she loses her labour." "Sir," continued she, " her ladyship proposes to be here time enough to hinder your nup- tials, which she takes, as we did, will be the latter end of next week." " Well," said he, " let her come, but yet I desire not to see her." Mrs. Jewkes said to me, " Give me leave, Madam, to wish you all man- ner of happiness ; but I am afraid I have too well obeyed his honour to bu forgiven by you." " Iiftleed, Mrs. Jewkes," returned I, " you will be PAMELA. 273 Mrs. Jewkt'5 appointed ti> a'tend Pamela in the Chapel. more your own enemy than I. I shall not presume, so much as hy a whis- per, to set my good master against any one he pleases to approve of : and as to his old servants, I shall always value them, and never offer to dictate to his choice, or influence it by my own caprices." " Mrs. Jewkes," said my master, " you find you need to apprehend nothing. My Pamela is very placable ; and as we have both been sinners together, we must both be included in one act of grace." " Such an example of condescension as I have before me, Mrs. Jewkes," said I, " may make you very easy ; for I must be highly unworthy, not to forego all my little resentments, if I had any, for the sake of so much goodness to myself." " You are very kind, Madam," said she ; " and depend upon it, I will atone for all my faults by my duty and respect to you, as well as to my master." 4 " That's well said on both sides," said he ; " but> Mrs. Jewkes, to as- sure you that my good girl her* has no malice, she chooses you to attend her in the morning at the ceremony, and you must keep up her spirits." " I shall," replied c l c, " be very proud of the honour: yet I cannot but wonder, Madatu, to have seen you so very low spirited, these two or three days past, with so much happiness before you." " Why, Mrs. Jewkes," answered 1, " there can lie only one reason; which is, that I am a sad fool ! I am not ungrateful neither ; nor would 1 put on a foolish affectation : but my heart, at times, sinks within me ; I know not why, except at my own unworthiness, and because this honour is too hisrn for me to .support myself under, as I should do. It is an honour Mrs. Jewkes, "added I, " I was not bx>rn to ; and no wonder, then, I be- have so awkwardly." She made me a fine compliment upon it, and with- drew, repeating her promises of care, secrecy, &c. He parted from me very tender!} : and I came up, .and, to amuse my thoughts, wrote 'thus far. Mrs. Jewkes is come up, and it heir;;- past twelve, I will go to bed ; but not one wink, I fear, s1ip.I1 I get 'his night. I could beat myself with anger. Sure there is nothing ominous in this Strange folly ! But I suppose all young maidens are tin same, ,o n'ar so great a change of condition, tlmui;!] they carry it off more discreetly than I. THURSDAY, SIX O'CLOCK IN Tlir. MORNING. I MIGHT a? well have not gone to bed last night, f>r what sleep 1 had. Mrs. Jewkes =>aid several things thai w old hae been well enough from any body i K< of our sex; but the poor woman has o littiepurU t heart, that it is all >ny from her, ami goes n<> furth'-r than the ear. 1 fancy my master has not slept much neither; for 1 beard him up, and Walking about his chamber, ever since break of day. lie must have some (! 10 U 274 PAMELA. Pamela's Master urges her to prepare tor tlieir Nuptials. concern, as well as I ; for he is going: to marry a poor foolish unworthy girl, brought up on the charity, as one may say (at least bounty) of his worthy family ! And this foolish girl must be, to all intents ami purposes, after twelve o'clock this day, as much his wife, as if he were to marry a duchess! And here we must stand the shocks of common reflection : " The great Mr. B. has done finely', he has married his poor servant wench /". will some say. The ridicule, and rude jests of his equals, and companions too, he must stand : and the disdain of his relations, and indignation of Latly Davers, his lofty sister. Pear good gentleman; he will have enough to do ! Oh, how shall I merit all these things at his hands? I can only do the best I can, and pray to God to reward him; resolve to love him with a pure heart, and serve him with a sincere obedi- ence. I hope he will continue to love me for this; for, alas ! I have nothing else to offer ! But, as I can hardly expect so great a blessing, if I can be secure from his contempt, I shall not be unfortunate ; and must sar his indifference, if his rich friends should inspire him with it, and proceed in my duty with cheerfulness. HALF AN HOUR PAST EIGHT O'CLOCK. My good dear master, my kind friend, my generous benefactor, my worthy protector, and, oh ! all the good words' in one, my affectionate \husband, that is soon to be (be curbed in, my proud heart, know thyself, and be conscious of thy unworthiness '.) has just left me, with the kind- est, tenderest expressions, and gentlest behaviour that ever blest a happy maiden. He approached me with a sort of reined inrapture. " My Pamela," said he, " may I just ask after-your employment ? Don't let me chide my dear girl this day, however. The two parsons will be here to breakfast with us at nine ; and yet you are not a bit dressed ! Why this absence of mind, and sweet irresolution ?" " Sir," said I, " I will set about a reformation this instant." He saw the Common Prayer Book lying in the window. " I hope," said he, " my lovely maiden has been conning the lesson she is by-and-by to repeat. Have you not, Pamela?" and kissed me. " Indeed, Sir," said I, " I have been reading over the solemn service." " And what thinks my fairest (for so he called me) of it ?" " O Sir, 'tis very awful, and makes one shudder, to reflect upon it." "No wonder," said he, " it should affect my sweet Pamela: I have been looking into it this morning, and I can't say but I think it a solemn, but very suitable service. This I tell my dear love," continued he, and again clasped me to hirn, " there is not a tittle in 'it I cannot joyfully subscribe to: and that, my dear Pamela, should make you easy, and join cheerfully in it with me." I kissed his dear hand ; " O my generous, kind protector," said I, " how gracious is it to PAMELA. <275 s. Open Oe-I i. turn of Pamela's Master. : < ' confirm thus the doubting uiind of 'your poor servant, which apprehends nothing so much as her own unworthiness of the honour and blessing that await her ! He was pleased to say, " I know well, my dearest creature, that, according 1 to the liberties we people of fortune generally give our- selves, I have promised a great deal, when I say so. But I would not have 9aid it, if deliberately I could not with all iny heart. So banish from your mind all doubt and uneasiness; let a generous confidence in me take place ; and let me see it does, by your cheerfulness in this day's solemn business*; and then I will love you for ever." " May God Almighty, Sir," said I, " reward all your goodness to me '. Oh, how kind it is in you, to supply the want of the presence and coni- fortiags of a dear mother, of a living sister, or of the kind companions of my own sex, which most maidens have, to soothe their anxieties on the near approach of so awful a solemnity ? You, Sir, are all these tender relations i:; one to me ! Your kindness shall, if possible, embolden me to look up to you without that sweet terror that must confound poor bashful maidens on stub an 'occasion, when surrendered up to a more doubtful happiness, and to half strange men, whose good faith and good usage of them must be less experienced, and is all involved in the dark bosom of futurity, and only to be proved by the trial." " This, my dear Pamela," said he, " i-i very kindly said ! It shews that you enter gratefully into my intention. For I would, by my conduct, supply all these dear relations to you ; and I voluntarily promise, from my heart, to you, what I think I could not, with such assured resolutions of performance to the highest born lady in the kingdom ; for, let me tell my sweet girl, that, after having been long tossed by the boisterous winds of a more culpable passion, I have now conquered it, and am not so much the victim of your beauty, all charming as you are, as of your virtue; / and therefore may more boldly promise for myself, having so stable a foundation fur my affection, which, should this outward beauty fail, will increase with your virtue, and shine forth the brighter, as that is more illustriously displayed by the augmented opportunities your future condi- tion will afford you." O the dear charming man, how nobly, how encou- ragingly kind was all this! I could not suitably express myself, and be said, " I see my girl is at a loss for words! 1 doubt not your good acceptance of my declarations. And when 1 have acted too much thppart of a libertine formerly, for you tp look back without some anxiety, I ought not, being now happily con- victed, to say less. But why loses my girl her time ? I will now only add, th:it I hope for many happy years, to make good, by my combo t, what so willingly Hows from my lips." He Listed me again, and said, " But whatever you do, Pamela, be t; J 276 PAMELA. Untidiness of Pamela at lier approaching Nuptials. cheerful ; for else, may be, of the small company we shall have some one, not knowing how t account for yourtoo nice modesty, will think there is some other person in the world, whose addresses would be still more agreeable to you." This he said with an air of sweetness and pleasantry ; but it alarmed me exceedingly, and made me resolve to appear as calm and cheerful as pos- sible ; for this was, indeed, a most affecting expression, and enough to make me, if any thing can, behave as 1 ought, and to force my idle fears to give way to hopes so much better grounded. I began almost, on this occasion, to wish Mr. Williams were not to marry me, lest I should behave like a fool, and so be liable to an imputation I should be most unworthy to deserve. I set about dressing instantly, and he sent Mrs. Jewkes to r.ssist me. But I am never long dressing ; and my master has now given me a hint, that will, for half an hour more, at least, keep my spirits brisk. Yet it concerns me a little, lest he should have any the least shadow of a doubt, that I am not, mind and person, entirely his. Being now ready, and not called to breakfast, I sat down and writ thus far. I dressed myself in a rich white satin night-gown that was my good lady's, and my best head clothes, &c. I have got such a knack of writ- ing, that when by myself, I cannot sit without a pen in my hand. But I am now called to breakfast, I suppose the gentlemen are come ! Now courage, Pamela : remember thou art upon thy good behaviour. Fie upon it ! my heart begins to flutter again ! " Foolish heart ! lie still !" Never, surely, was any maiden's perverse heart under so little command as mine ! It gave itself away, at first without my leave ; and has been, for weeks, pressing me with its wishes ; yet now, when it should be happy itself, and make me so, it is throb, throb, throb, like a little fool ; and filling ine with such unseasonable misgivings, as abate the rising comforts- f all my better prospects. THURSDAY, NEAR THREE O'CLOCK. I thought T should have found no time nor heart to write again this day j but here are three gentlemen come, unexpectedly, to dine with my master ; and so I shall not appear. He has done all he could, civilly to send them away ; but they still stay. And so I have nothing to do but to write till I go to dinner myself with Mrs. Jewkes : for my master was not prepared for this company, and it will be a little latish to-day. So I will begin with my happy story where I left off. When I came down to breakfast, Mr. Peters and Mr. Williams wre both there : and as soon as my master heard me coming, he met me at PAMELA. 2?7 Mr. Williams and Mr. Peters attend to perform the Ceremony. the door ; and led me in with great tenderness. He had kindly spoken to them, as he told me afterwards, to mention no more of the matter to me than needs must. I paid my respects to them, I believe, a little awk- wardly, and was almost out of hreath ; but said, I had come down a little too fast. When Abraham came in to wait, my master said (that the servants should not mistrust) " Tis well, gentlemen, you came as you did ; i> ray good girl and I were going to take an airing till djnner-tim*. I hops you'll stay and dine with me." " Sir," said Mr. Peters, " we won't hin- der your airing. I only came to see your chapel; but must be home to dinner; and Mr. Williams will dine with me." "Then," said my master, " we will pursue our intentions, and ride out for an hour or two, as soon as I have shewed Mr. Peters my little chapel. Will you, Pamela, after breakfast, walk with us to it ?" " Jf, If," said I, and had like to have stammered, foolish that I was ! " If you please, Sir." I could luok none of them in the face. Abraham looking at me " Why, child," said my master, "you have hardly recovered your fright yet : how came your foot to slip ! 'Tis well you did not hurt yourself." Said Mr. Peters, improving the hint, "You ha' n't sprained your ankle, Madam, I hope." "No, Sir," said I, " I believe not; but 'tis a little pa inful to me." And so it was, for I meant my foolishness ! " Abraham," said my master, " bid Robin put the horses to the coach, instead of the chariot; and if these gentlemen will go, we can set them down." " I had as leave walk," said Mr. Peters, " if Mr. Williams chooses it." " Well, then," said my master, " let it be the chariot, as I told him." I could eat nothing, though I attempted it ; and my hand shook so, I spilled some of my chocolate, and so put it down again ; they were all very good, and looked another way. My master said, when Abraham was out, " I have a quite plain ring here, Mr. Peters : and F hope the cere- mony will dignify the ring; aud that 1 shall give my girl reason to think it, for that cause, the most valuable one that can be presented her." Mr. Peters said, he was sure I should value it more than the richest diamond in the world. I had bid Mrs. Jewkes not to dress herself, lest she should giva cause of mistrust ; and she took my advice. When breakfast-was over, my master said, before Abraham, " Well, gentlemen, we will step into the chapel; and you must advise me as to the alterations I design. \ am in the more haste, as the survey you are going to take of it, for the alterations, will take up a little time; and we shall not have much between that and dinner, for my little tour. Pamela, you'll give us your opinion, won't you ?" " Yes, Sir," said I ; " I'll come after yo i." So they went out, and 1 bat down in the cjair again, and fanned 278 i PAMELA. / T.io OerenHir.y of the Mafiiige. myself: " I am sick at heart," said I, " Mrs. Jewkes." Said she, " Shall I fetch you a little cordial ?" "No," said I, "I am a sad fool! I want spirits, that's all." She took her smelling-bottle, and would have givati it me ; but I said, " Keep it in your hand ; may be I shall want it ; but I hope not." She gave me very good words, and begged me to go : I got up ; but my knees beat so against one another, I vas forced to sit down again. At last, I held by her arm, and, passing by Abraham, I said, "This ugly slip, coming down stairs, has made me limp; so I must hold by you, Mrs. Jewkes. Do you know what alterations there are to be in the chapel, that we must give our opinions on them ?" Nan, she said, was let into the secret, and she had ordered her to stay at the chapel-door, to see that nobody came in. My dear master came to me, at entering the chapel, and took my hand, and led n.e up to the altar. Remember, my dear girl," whispered he, " and be cheerful." " I am, I will, Sir," said I ; but hardly knew what I said ; and so you may believe, when I said to Mrs. Jewkes," Pray, Mrs. Jewkes, don't leave me ;" as if I had all confidence in her, and none where it was most clue. God forgive me 1 but I never was so absent in my life, as at first; even till Mr. Wil- liams had gone on in his service, so far as to the awful words about " re- quiting us, as we shall answer at the dreudful day of judgment ." and then the solemn words, and my master's whispering, " Mind this, my dear," made me start. Said he, still whispering, "Know you any impe- diment?" I blushed, and said, softly, " None, Sir, but my great unwor- thlness." Then followed the sweet words, " Wilt -thou have this woman to thy wedded wfe," &c. and I began to take heart a little, when my dearest master answered audibly to this question, " / will." But I could only make a curtsey, when they asked me ; though I'm sure my heart was readier than my speech, and answered to every article of obey, serve, love, and honour. Mr. Peters gave me away, and T said after Mr. Williams, as well as I could, as my dear master did, with a much better grace, the words df betrothment : and the ceremony of the ring passing next, I received the dear favour at his worthy hands, with a most grateful heart ; and he told me afterwards, that when he had done saying, " With this ring I thee wed," &e. I curtseyed, and said, " Thank you, Sir." May be I did ; for it was a most grateful part of the service, and my heart was overwhelmed with his goodness, and the tender grace wherewith he performed it. I was yery glad the next part was the prayer, and kneeling ; for I trembled so, I could hardly stand, betwixt fear and joy. The joining of our hands, and declaration of our being married, to the PAMELA. 279 The Gentlemen salute Pamela and wish her Joy. few witnesses pies&nt > f r reckoning Nap, whose curiosity would not let Ler stay at the door, there were but Mr., Peters, and Mrs. Jewkes, and she ; the blessing, the psalm, and the prayers, and the concluding exhor- tation, were so many beautiful, welcome, and lovely parts of this divine office, that my heart was delighted with them, and my spirits a little freer. , Thus, my dearest parents, is your happy, thrice happy Pamela, at last / married ; and to whom ? Why, to her beloved, gracious master! the lord of her wishes ! and thus the once naughty assailer of her innocence, by a blessed turn of Providence, is become the kind, the gracious protector and re warder of it. God be evermore blessed and praised ! and make me not wholly unworthy of such transcendent honour ! and bless and reward the dear good gentleman ; who has thus exalted his unworthy servant,' unto a place, which the greatest ladies would think themselves happy in ! My master saluted me most ardently, and said, " God give you, my dear love, as much joy on this occasion as I have." He presented me to Mr. Peters, who saluted me ; and said, " You may excuse r.ie, clear Madam ; fori gave you away, and you are my daughter." And Mr. Wiliiams modestly withdrawing" a little way, " Mr. Williams," said my master, " pray accept my thanks, and wish your sister joy." So he saluted me too ; and said " Most heartily, Madam, I do. A nd I will say, that to seescj. muc h innocence and virtue so eminently rewarded, is one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known." This my master took very"" Mrs. Jewkes would have kissed my hand at the chapel-door ; but I had got a new recruit of spirits just then, and kissed her, and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Jewkes, for accompanying mew I have behaved sadly." "No, Madam," said she, "pretty well, pretty well !" Mr. Peters walked out with me: Mr. Williams and my master came out after us, talking together. Mr. Peters, when he came into the parlour, said, " I once more, Madam, must wish you joy on this happy occasion. 1 wish every day may add to your comforts ; and may you very long rejoice in one another ! for you are Uie loveliest couple I ever saw joined." I told liim, 1 was highly ob'iged to his kind opinion, and good wishes ; and hoped my future con- duct would not make me unworthy of them. My good benefactor came in with Mr. Williams : "So, my dear life," said he, " how do you do ? A little more composed,! hope! Well, you see this is not so dreadful an affair as you apprehended." " Sir," said Mr. Peters, very kindly, " 'ti- a very solemn circumstance ; and I love to see it so reverently and awfully entered upon. It is a most excellent sign : for the most thoughtful beginnings make the nniand drank pretty heartily ; and I drank a little, and it cheered my heart, I thought, for an hour after. My master took a fine diamond ring from his finger, and presented it to Mr. Peters, who received it very kindly. To Mr. Williams he said, " My old acquaintance, I have reserved for you, against a variety of soli- citations, the living I always designed for you ; and I beg you'll piiepare to take possession of it ; and as the doing it may be attended with some expense, pray accept of this towards it :" so he gave him (as he told my afterwards) a bank note of 501. Thus did this generous good gentleman bless us all, and me in parti- cular ; for whose sake he was as bounteous as if he had married one of the noblest fortunes. So he took his leave of the gentlemen, recommending secrecy again, for a few days, and they left him ; and none of the servants suspected any- thing, as Mrs. Jewkes believes. Then I threw myself at his feet, blessed God, and blessed him for his goodness ; and he overwhelmed me with kindness, calling me his sweet bride, and twenty lovely epithets, that swell my grateful heart beyond the power of utterance. He afterwards led me to the chariot ; and we took a delightful tour round the neighbouring villages; he did all he could, to dissipate those still perverse anxieties that dwell upon my mind, and, do what I can, spread too thoughtful an air, as he tells me, over my countenance. We came home by half-past one ; and he was pleasing himself with thinking, not to be an hour out of my company this blessed day, that (as he was so good as to say) he might inspire rne with a familiarity Which sho ild improve my confidence in him, when he was told a footman of Sir Charles Hargrave had been here, to say that his master ami two other gentlemen were on the road to take a dinner with him, in their way to Nottingham. He was heartily vexed at this, and said to me, he should have been glad of their companies at any other time ; but it was a barbarous intrusion now ; and he wished they had been told he would not be at home at dinner : " Besides," said he, " they are horrid drinkers ; and I mayn't be able to get them away to-night ; for they do nothing but travel round the country, and beat up their friends* garters all the way ; and 'tis all one to them, whether they stay a night or a month at a place. But," added he, " I'll find some way, if I can, to turn them off, after dinner. Confound them," said he, in a violent pet, " that they should come thii day, of all the days in the year !" PAMELA. 2SI Visitois dine with Mr. R. We had hardly alighted, and got in, before they came ; three mad rakes they seemed to be, setting up a hunting-note, as soon as they came to the gate, that made the court-yard echo again ; and smacking their whips in concert. So I went up to my chamber, and saw (what made my heart throb) Mrs. Jewkes's officious pains to put the room in order for a guest, that, how- ever welcome, as now my duty teaches me to say, is yet dreadful to me to and knew not how to distinguish the one from the other, when he finds us so happily united by your great goodness to me, he will have no more puzzles in his duty ; for he has not failed in any other part of it ; but, I hope, will serve you faithfully for the future." " Well, then, suppose I put Mrs. Jewkes in a good way of business, in some inn, aud give ner John for a husband ? And then your gipsy story will be made out, that she will have a husband younger than herself." " You are all goodness, Sir," said I. " I can freely forgive poor Mrs. Jewkes, and wish her happy. But permit. me, Sir, to ask, Would not this look like a very heavy punishment to poor John ? And as if you could not forgive him, when you are so generous to every body else ?" He smiled, and said, " O my Pamela, this, lor a forgiving spirit, is very severe upon poor Jewkes : but I shall never, by the grace of God, have any more such trying services to put him or the rest upon : and if you can forgive him, I think I may ; and so John shall be at your disposal. And now let me know what my Pamela has further to wish ?" " O my dearest Sir," said I, " not one single wish more has your grate- ful Pamela. My heart is overwhelmed with your goodness ! Forgive these PAMELA. 291 Pamela communicates her Happiness to her Parents. tears of joy," added I : " you have left me nothing to pray for, but that God will bless you with life, health, and honour, and continue to me the blessings of your esteem ! I shall then be the happiest creature in the world." He clasped me in his arms, and said, " You cannot, my dear life, be so happy in me, as I am in you. Oh, how heartily I despise all my former pursuits, and headstrong appetites ! What joys, what true joys, flow from virtuous love ; joys which the narrow soul of the libertine cannot take in, nor his thoughts conceive '. And which I myself, whilst a libertine, had not the least notion of 1 " But," said he, " I expected my dear Pamela had something o ask for herself: but since all her own good is absorbed in the delight her ge- nerous heart takes in promoting that of others, it shall be my study to prevent her wishes, and to make her care for herself unnecesary, by my anticipating kindness." In this manner, my dear parents, is your happy daughter blessed in a husband ! Oh, how my exulting heart leaps at the dear, dear word ! And I have only to be humble, and look up -with gratitude to the all-gracious Dispenser of these blessings. So, with a thousand thanks, I afterwards retired to my closet, to write to you thus far. And having completed what I purpose for this packet, and put up the kind obliging present, I have nothing more to say, but that I hope soon to see you both, and receive your blessings on this happy, thrice happy occasion. And so, hoping for your prayers, that I may pre- serve a humble and upright mind to my gracious God, a dutiful grati- tude to my dear master and husband, that I may long rejoice in the con- tinuance of these blessings and .favours, and preserve, at the same time, an obliging deportment to every one else, I conclude myself, your ever dutiful, and most happy daughter, Pameu B . Oh, think it not my pride, my dear parents, that sets me on glorying in my change of name. Yours will be always dear to me, and what I shall never be ashamed of, I am sure ! But yet for such a husband ! What shall I say, since words are too faint to express my gratitude, and my joy ! I have taken copies of my master's letter to Mr. Longman, and mine to Mrs. Jervis, which I will send, with the further occurrences, when I go to the other house, or give you when I see you, as I now hope soon to do. SATURDAY MORNING, THE THIRD OK MY HAPPY NUPTIALS. I MUST write on, till I come to be settled in the duty of the station to which 1 am so generously exalted, and to let you participate, with nte, the transporting pleasures that arise from my new condition and the favours hourly heaped upon me by the best of husbands. When my packet for 892 PAMELA. Letters to Mr. Longman and Mrs. Jervis. you was finished, I set about writing, as hehad kindly directed me, to Mrs. Jervis, and had no difficulty till I came to sign my name : so I brought it down with me, when called to supper, unsigned. My good master (for I delight, and always shall, to call him by that name) had been writing to Mr. Longman ; and he said, pleasantly, M See here, my dearest, what I have written to your somebody." I read as follows : *' MR. LONGMAN, "I have the pleasure to acquaint you, that last Thursday I was married to my beloved Pamela. I have had reason to be disobliged with you, and Mrs. Jervis, and Jonathan, not for your kindness to, and regard for, my dear spouse, that now is, but to the manner in which you appealed to my sister Davers ; which has made a very wide breach between her and me. Buts it wasone of her first requests, that I would overlook what had past, and reinstate you in all your former charges, I think myself obliged, without the least hesitation, to comply with it. So, if you please, you may- enter again upon an office which you have always executed with unques- tionable integrity, and to the satisfaction of yours, Sfc. " FRIDAY AFTERNOON. *' I shall set out next Tuesday or Wednesday for Bedfordshire ; and desire to find Jonathan, as well as you, in your former offices ; in which, I dare say s you'll have the more pleasure, as you have such an early in- stance of the sentiments of my dear wife, from whose goodness you may expect every agreeable thing. She writes herself to Mrs. Jervis." I thanked him most gratefully for his goodness ; and afterwards took the above copy of it ; and shewed him my letter to Mrs. Jervis as follows : "MY DEAR MRS. JERVIS, " I have joyful tidings to communicate to you. For yesterday I was happily married to the best of gentlemen, yours and my beloved master. I have only now to tell you, that I am inexpressibly happy : that my generous benefactor denies me nothing, and even anticipates my wishes, You may be sure I could not forget my dear Mrs. Jervis, and I made it my request, and had it granted, as soon as asked, that you might return to the charge which you executed with so much advantage to our master's interest, and so much pleasure to all under your direction. All the power that is put into my hands, by the most generous of men, shall be exerted to make every thing easy and agreeable to you : and as I shall soon have the honour of attending my beloved to Bedfordshire, it will be a very con- siderable addition, to my delight, and to my unspeakable obligations to the best of men, to see my dear Mrs. Jervis, and to be received by her PAMELA. 293 Pamela's pious Reflections. with that pleasure, which I promise myself from her affection. For lam, my dear good friend, and always will be, yours very affectionately and gratefully. Pamela ." He read this letter, and said, " 'Tis your's, my dear, and must be good : but don't you put your name to it ?" " Sir," said I, " your goodness has given me a right to a very honourable one : but as this is the first occasion of the kind, except that to my dear father and mother, I think I ought to . shew it you unsigned, that I may not seem over forward to take advantage of the honour you have done me." " However sweetly humble and requisite," said be, " this may appear to my dear Pamela's niceness, it befits me to tell you, that I am every moment more pleased with the right you have to my name ; and, my dear life," added he, " I have only to wish I may be half as worthy as you are of the happy knot so lately knit." He then took a pen himself, and wrote, after Pamela, his most worthy surname; and I under-wrote thus: "Q rejoice with me, my dear Mrs. Jervis, that I am enabled, by God's gracious- ncss, and my dear master's goodness, thus to write myself." These letters, and the packet to you, were sent away, by Mr. Thomas, early this morning. My dearest master is just gone to take a ride out, and intends to call upon Lady Jones, Mr. Peters, and Sir Simon Darnford, to invite them to chapel and dinner to-morrow ; and says, he chooses to do it himself, be- cause the time is so short, they will, perhaps, deny a servant. I forgot to mention, that Mr. Williams was here yesterday, to ask leave to go to see his new living, and to provide for taking possession of it ; and seemed so pleased with my master's kindness and fondness for me, as well as his generous deportment to himself, that he left us in such a disposi- tion, as shewed he was quite happy. I am very glad of it ; for it would rejoice me to be an humble means of making all mankind so : and, oh ! what returns ought I not to make to the Divine goodness! and how ought I to strive to diffuse the blessings I experience, to all within my knowledge ! For else, what is it for such a worm as I to be exalted? What is my single happiness, if I suffer it, niggard like, to extend no furth than to myself. But then, indeed, do God Almighty's creatures act worthy of the blessings they receive, when they make, or endeavour to make, the whole creation, so far as in the circle of their power, happy ! Great and good God, as thou hast enlarged my opportunities, enlarge also my will, and make me delight in dispensing to others a portion cf that happiness which I have myself so plenteously received at the hands of thy graciou= P.ovidence ! Tlien shall I not be useless in my generation ! Then shall I not stand a single mark of thy goodness to a poor worthier x .1 294 PAMELA. 'Pamela's pious Reflections. creature, that, in herself, is of so small account in the scale of beings, a mere cipher on the wrong side of a figure, but shall be placed on the right side ; and, though nothing worth in myself, shall give signification by my place, and multiply the blessings I owe to thy goodness, which has distinguished me by so fair a lot ! This, as I conceive, is the indispensable duty of a high condition : and how great must be the condemnation of poor creatures, at the great day of account, when they shall be asked, what uses they have made of the opportunities put into their hands ; and are only able to say, " We have lived but to ourselves ; we have circumscribed all the power thou hast given us into one narrow selfish compass : we have heaped up treasures for those who came after us, though we knew not whether they would not make a still worse use of them than we ourselves did." And how can such foolish pleaders expect any other sentence than the dreadful " Depart, ye cursed J" But sure, my dear parents, such persons can have no notion of the exalted pleasures that flow from doing good, were there to be no after-account at all ! There is something so satisfactory and pleasing to reflect on the being able to administer comfort and relief to those who stand in need of it, as infinitely, of itself, rewards the beneficent mind. How often have I experienced this in my good lady's time, though but the second-hand dis- penser of her benefits to the poor and sickly, when she made me her almoner ! How have I been affected with the blessings which the mise- rable have heaped upon her for her goodness, and upon me for being but the humble conveyer of her bounty to them ! And how delighted have I been, when the moving reports I have made of a particular distress have augmented my good lady's first intentions in relief of it ! This I recal with pleasure ; for it is now, by the Divine goodness, become my part to do those good things she was wont to do ; and, oh ! let me watch myself, that my prosperous state do not make me forget to look up, with due thankfulness to Him who has entrusted me with the power, that I may not incur a terrible woe by the abuse or neglect of it ! Forgive me these reflections, my dear parents ; and let me have your prayers, that I may not find my present happiness a snare to me, but con- sider, that more and more will be expected from me, in proportion to my power ; that I may not so unworthily act, as if I believed I ought to set up my rest in my mean self, and think notiiing further to be done, with the opportunities given me, by the Divine favour, and the best of men ! SATURDAY, SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING. My mastei returned home to dinner, in compliment to me, though much pressed to dine with Lady Jones, as also by Sir Simon, to dine with him. PAMELA. 295 , 1 ' m Mr. B.'s Provision for Pamela's Parents. Mr. Peters could not conveniently provide a-preacher, for his own church, to-morrow morning, at so short a notice, Mr. Williams being gone to his new living, but believed he could for the afternoon ; so he promised to give us his company to dinner, and to read afternoon service ; this made my master invite all the rest, as well as him to dinner and not to church ; he made them promise to come ; and told Mr. Peters he would send his coach for him and his family. Miss Darnford told him pleasantly, she would not come, unless he would promise to let her be at bis wedding ; by which I find Mr. Peters has kept the secret, as my master desired. He was pleased to give me an airing after dinner in the chariot, and renewed his kind assurances, and, H" possible, is kinder than ever. This is swet4y comfortable, because it shews he does not repent of his condescen- sions to me : and it encourages me to look up to him with more satisfac- tion of mmd, and less doubtfulness. I begged leave to send a guinea to a poor body in the town, who, I heard by Mrs. Jewkes, lay very ill, and was very destitute. He said, " Send two, my dear, if you please." Said I, " Sir I will never do any thing of this kind without letting you know." He most generously answered, " I srhall then, perhaps, have you do less good than you would otherwise do s from a doubt of me; though, I hope, your discretion, and my own tem- per, which is not avaricious, will make such doubts causeless" " Now, my dear," continued he, " I'll tell you how we will order this point, to avoid even the shadow of uneasiness on one side, or doubt on the other. " As to your father and mother, in the first place, they shall be quite out of the question ; for I have already determined about them: they shall go down, if they and you think well of it, to my little Kentish estate . which I once mentioned to you in such a manner, as made you reject it with a nobleness of mind, that gave me pain then, but pleasure since. There is a pretty little farm and house, untenanted, upon lhat estate, and tolerably well stocked, and 1 will further stock it for them ; for such industrious folks won't know how to live witliout some employment : and it shall be theirs for both their lives, without paying any rent : I will alio" them 501. per aim. besides, that they may keep up the stock, and he kid to any other of your relations without being beholden to you or in.:, foi small matters ; and for greater, where needful, you shall always have ii in your power to accommodate them ; for I shall never question your prudence. We will, as long as God spares our li\e.s, 140 down "iicc a ye:; to see them ; and they shall come up, as often as they j>1. .est, it cannot be too often, to see us : for 1 mean not this, my dear, to -end them fr ", Ui. Before I proceed, does my Pamela like thi. "-" x ! 29G PAMELA. -,"- ' - ., i . - .. Mr. B.'s Allowance to PameU for private Charity. -. ' , , ' M \\ "O Sir," said I, " the English tongue affords not words, or at least I have them not, to express, sufficiently, my gratitude. Teach me, dear Sir," continued I, pressing his hands to my lips, " teach me some other language, if there be any, that abounds with more grateful terms ; that I may not thus be choked with meanings, for which I can find no utterance." "My charmer!" says he, "your language is all wonderful, as your sentiments : and you most abound, when you seem most to want ! All that I wish is, to find my proposals agreeable to you ; and if my first are not, my second shall be, if I can but know what you wish." Did I say too much, my clearest parents, when I said, he wag, if pos- sible, kinder and kinder ? For my heart is overwhelmed with his goodness. " Well," said he, " my dearest, let me desire you to mention it to them, to see if they approve it. But, if it be your choice, and theirs, to have them nearer to you, or even under the same roof with you, I .will freely consent to it." "O no, Sir," said I (and I fear almost sinned in my grateful flight) "I am sure they would not choose that ; they could not, perhaps, serve God so well, if they lived with you ; for, so constantly seeing the hand that blessed them, they might, as must be my care to avoid, be tempted to look no further in their gratitude, than to the dear dispenser of such innume- rable benefits"!" "Excellent creature!" said he, " my beloved wants no language, nor sentiment neither ; her charming thoughts, so sweetly expressed, would grace any language ; and this is a blessing almost peculiar to my fairest. Your so kind acceptance, my Pamela," added he, " repays the benefit with interest, and leaves me under obligations to your goodness. " But now, I will tell you what we will do, with regard to points of your own private charity ; for far be it from me to put under that name the subject we have been mentioning ; because that, and more than that, is duty, to persons so worthy, and nearly related to my Pamela, and, as such, to myself." Oh, how the sweet man outdoes me, in thoughts, words, power, and every thing '. " And this," said he, " lies in very small compass : for I will allow you two hundred pounds a year, which Longman shall constantly pay you, at fifty pounds a quarter, for your own use, and of which I expect no account ; to commence from the day you enter into my other house : I mean," said he, " that the first fifty pounds shall then be due ; because you shall have something to begin with. And," added the dear generous man, " if this be pleasing to you, let it, since you say you want words, be signified by. such a sweet kiss as you gave me yesterday." I hesitated not a moment to comply with these obliging terms ; and threw my arms about his dear PAMELA. 297 Pamela entirely devoted to her Husband. neck, though in the chariot, and blessed his goodness to me. " Sir," said I, " I cannot bear this generous treatment !" He was pleased to say, " Don't be uneasy, my dear, about these trifles : God has blessed me with a very good estate, and all of it in a prosperous condition, and generally well tenanted. I lay up money every year, and have besides, large sums in government and other securities ; so that you will find, what I have hitherto promised, is very short of that proportion of my substance, which* as my deadest wife, you have a right to." Thus sweetly did we pass our time till Evening, when the chariot brought us home, and our supper succeeded in the same agreeable manner. Thus, in a rapturous circle, the time moves on, every hour bringing with it something more delightful than the past ! Sure nobody was ever so blest asl! SUNDAY, THE FOURTH DAY OF MY HAPPINESS. Not going to chapel this morning the reason of which I told you, I bestowed the time, from the hour of my beloved's rising to breakfast, in prayer and thanksgiving, in my closet. I now begin to be quite easy, cheerful, and free in my spirits ; and the rather, as I find myself encou- raged by the tranquillity, and pleasing vivacity, in the temper and beha- viour of my beloved, who thereby shews he does not repent of his goodness to me. I attended bim to breakfast with great pleasure and freedom, and he seemed quite pleased with me, and said, " Now does my dearest begin to look upon me with an air of serenity and satisfaction : it shall be always my delight to give you occasion for this sweet becoming aspect of confi- dence and pleasure in me." " My heart, dear Sir," said I, "is quite easy, and has lost all its foolish tumults, which, combating with my gratitude, might give an unaccceptable appearance to my behaviour, but now your goodness, Sir, has enabled it to get the better of it's uneasy apprehensions, and my heart is all of one piece, and devoted to you, and grateful tran- quillity. And could I be so happy as to see you and my good Lady Davers reconciled, I have nothing in this world to wish for more, but the conti- nuance of your favour." He said, " I wish this reconciliation as well as you : and I do assure you, more for your sake than my own ; and if she would behave tolerably, I would make the terms easier to her, for that reason." He said, " I will lay down one rule for you, my Pamela, to observe in your dress ; and 1 will tell you everything I like or dislike, as it occurs to me : I would have you do the same, on your part ; that nothing may lie Upon either of our minds, that may occasion the least reservedness. " I have often observed, in married folks, that the lady soon grows careless hi her dress ; which, to me, looks as if she would take no pains S98 PAMELA. Family Regulations. to secure the affection she had gained ; and shews a slight to her husband, that she had not to her lover. Now, you must know, that has always given me great offence ; and I should not forgive it even in my Pamela, though she would not have this excuse for herself, which thousands could not make, that she looks lovely in every thing. So, my dear, I shall expect of you always to be dressed by dinner-time, except something extraordi- nary happens : and this, whether you are to go abroad, or stay at home. For this, my love, will continue to you that sweet case in your dress and behaviour, which you are so happy a mistress of; and whomsoever I bring home to my table, you'll be in readiness to receive : and will not want to make those foolish apologies to unexpected visitors, which carry with them a reflection on the conduct of those who make them ; and, besides, will convince me, that you think yourself obliged to appear as graceful to your husband, as you would to persons less familiar to your sight." " " This, dear Sir," said I, " is a most obliging injunction ; and I most heartily thank you for it, and will always take care to obey it." " Why, ry dear," said he, " you may better do this than haVf your sex ; because they too generally act in such a manner, as if they seemed to think it the privilege of birth and fortune to turn day into night, and night into day, and are seldom stirring till 'tis time to sit down to dinner; and so all the good old family rules are reversed: for they breakfast when they should dine ; dine when they should sup; and sup when they should go to bed ; and, by the help of dear quadrille, sometimes go to bed when they should rise. In all things but these, my dear," continued he, " I expect you to be a lady. My good mother was one of the old-fashioned cut, and in all other respects, as worthy a lady as any in the kingdom. Sj you have not been used to the new way, and may the easier practise the other." " Dear Sir," said I, " pray give me more of your sweet injunctions." " Why, then," continued he, " I shall, in the usual course, and generally, if not hindered by company, like to go to bed with my dearest by eleven ; and if I don't, sha'n't hinder you. I ordinarily now rise by six in the sum- mer. I will allow you to lie half an hour after me, or so. Then you'll have some time you may call your own, till you give me your company to breakfast ; which may be always so as that we may have done at a little after nine. And you will have several hours, again, at your disposal, till two o'clock, when I should like to sit down at table. " You will then have several useful hours more to employ yourself in, as vou please ; I would generally go to supper by eight. And when we are resolved to stick to these old-fashioned rules, as near as we can, we shall make our visitors conform tf> them too, expect them from us, and suit themselves accordingly : for I have always observed, that it is in every one's power to prescribe rules to liim-self. It is only standing a few PAMELA. 299 Family Regulations. ridiculous jests at first, from such, generally, as are not the most worthy to be minded : and after a while they will say, ' It signifies nothing to ask him : he will have his own way. There is no putting him out of his bias. He is a regular piece of clock-work !' And why, my dear, should we not be so ? For man is as frail a piece of machinery, as any clock- work whatever : and, by irregularity, is as subject to be disordered. " Then, my dear," continued the charming man, " when they see they are received at my own times, with an open countenance, and cheerful heart ; when they see plenty and variety at my board, and meet a kind and hearty welcome from us both ; they will not offer to break in upon my conditions, nor grudge me my regular hours : and as most of these people have nothing to do except to rise in a morning, they may as well come to breakfast with us at half an hour after eight, in summer, as at ten or eleven ; to dinner at two, as at four, five, or six : and to supper at eight, as ten or eleven. Then our servants too will know, generally, the times of their business, and their hours of leisure : and we, as well as they, shall reap the benefits of this regularity. And who knows, my dear, but we may revive the good ohl fashion in our neighbourhood by this means ? At least it will be doing our part towards it ; and answering the good lesson I learned at school ' Every one mend one.' And the worst that will happen will be, that when some of my brother rakes, such as those who broke in upon us so unwelcomely last Thursday, are gone out of the way, and begin to consider whom they shall go to dine with in their rambles, they will only say, ' We must not go to him, for his dinner-time is over ;' and so they'll reserve me for another time, when they happen to suit it better; or, perhaps, they will take a supper and a bed with me instead of it. " Now, my dearest," continued the kind man, " you see here are more of my injunctions, as you call them ; and though I will not he so set as to quarrel if they are not always exactly complied with, yet as I know you don't think them unreasonable, I shall be glad they may, as often as they - can ; and you will give your orders accordingly^ to your Mrs. Jervis, who is a good woman, and will take pleasure in obeying you." " O dearest, clear Sir," said I, " have you nothing more to honour me with ? You oblige and improve me at the same time. What a happy lo is mine '." " Why, let me see, my dearest," said be " But I think <>f no more at present; for it will be needless to say, t how much 1'value you for your natural sweetness of temper, and that open cheerfulness of countenance which adorns you, when nothing has e> ,, '<< my fairest appn hensions for T virtue ; a sweetness and a cheerfulness, that prepossesses in your 300 PAMELA. .'* Family Resolutions. favour, at first sight, the mind of every one that beholds you. I need not, I hope, say that I would have you diligently preserve this sweet appear- ance : let no thwarting accident, no cross fortune (for we must not expect to be exempt from such, happy as we now are in each other) deprive this sweet face of this its principal grace : and when any thing unpleasing happens, in a quarter of an hour, at farthest, begin to mistrust yourself, and apply to your glass ; and if you see a gloom arising, or arisen, banish it instantly ; smooth your dear countenance ; resume your formsr com- posure ; and then my dearest, whose heart must always be seen in her face, and cannot be a hypocrite, will find this a means to smooth her passions also ; and if the occasion be too strong for so sudden a conquest, she will know how te do it more effectually, by repairing to her closet, and begging that gracious assistance- which has never yet failed her; and so shall I, who, as you once justly observed, was too much indulged by my v &ood mother, have an example from you, as well as a plea:ure in you, which will never be palled. " I have frequently observed at the house of many a gentleman, that when we have unexpectedly visited, or broken in upon the family order laid down by the lady, and especially if any of us have lain under the suspicion of having occasionally seduced our married companion into bad hours, or given indifferent exariiples, the poor gentleman has been oddly affected at our coming ; though the good breeding of the lady has made her just keep up appearances. He has looked so conscious ; has been so afraid, as it were, to disoblige.; has made so many excuses for some of us, before we have been accused, as have always shewn me how unwelcome we have been, and how much he is obliged to compound with his lady for a tolerable reception of us ; and perhaps she *oo, in proportion to the honest man's concern to court her smiles, has been more reserved, stiff, and formal, and has behaved with an indifference and slight, that has made me wish myself out of her house ; for too plainly have I seen, that it was hot his. This, my dear, you may judge, has afforded me subject for animadversion upon the married life : for a man may not (though he is willing to flatter himself that he is master of his house, and will assert his prerogative upon great occasions, when he is strongly invaded) be always willing to contend ; and such women as I have described, are always ready to take the field, and are worse enemies than the old Par- tisans, who annoy most when they seem to retreat; and never fail to return to the charge again, and carry on the offensive war, till they have tried our resistance, and made the husband willing, like a vanquished enemy, to compound for small matters, in order to preserve something At least, Ihe poor man does not care to U:t his friends >>ee his case ; * PAMELA. 301 Facetious Illustration of Visits. so will not provoke a fire to break out, that he sees (and so do his friends too) the meek lady has much ado to smother ; and which very possibly bums, with a most comfortable ardour, after we are gone- " You smile, my Pamela," said he, " at this whimsical picture ; and, I am sure, I never shall have reason to include you in these disagreeable outlines ; but. yet will I say, that I -expect from you, whoever comes to my house, that you accustom yourself to one even, uniform complaisance ; that no frown take place on your brow ; that however ill or well provided we may be for their reception, you show no flutter of discomposure; that whoever you may have in your company at the time, you signify not, by the least reserved look, that the stranger is come upon you unsea- sonably, or at a time you wish he had not. But be facetious, kind, and obliging to all ;, and if to any one more than to another, to such as have the least reason to expect it from you, or who are most inferior at the table ; for thus will you, my Pamela, cheer the doubting mind, quiet the uneasy heart, and diffuse ease, pleasure, and tranquillity, around my board. " And be sure, my dear," continued he, " let no little accident ruffl* your temper. 1 shall never forget once, that I was at lady Arthur's, and a footman happened to stumble with a fine china dish, and broke it all t pieces : it was grievous to see the uneasiness of the poor lady ; and she was so sincere in it, that she suffered it to spread all over the company, and it was a pretty large one too ; and not a person in it, but turned either her consoler, or fell into stories of the like misfortunes ; so we all became, during the evening, nothing but blundering footmen, and careless servants, or were turned into broken jars, plates, glasses, tea-cups, and such like brittle substances. And it affected me so much, that when i came home, I went to bed and dreamt, that Robin, with the handle of hit whip, broke the fore-glass of my chariot ; and I was so solicitous, me- thought, to keep the good lady in countenance for her anger, that I broke his head in revenge, and stabbed one of my coach-horses. All the comfort I had when it was done, methought, was, that I had not exposed myself before company ; and there were no sufferers but guilty Robin, and one innocent coach-horse." I was exceedingly diverted with these facetious hints, and the pleasant manner in which be gave them, and 1 promised to improve by the excel- lent lessons contained in them. I then went up anil dressed myself, like a bride, in my be^t clothes; and, on enquiry, hearing my dearest master was gone to w;tik in tbe gar- den, 1 went to him. He was reading in the little alcove; a::d I said, "Sir, am I licensed to intrude upon you ?" " No, my dear,' - s :', J be, because you cannot intrude. I am so whoHy yours, tl.at wherever 1 aui, S02 PAMELA. Pamela's and her Husband's mutual Wish to please. you have not only a right to join me, but you do me a very acceptable favour at the same time." ** I have, Sir," said I, " obeyed your first kind injunction, as to dressing myself before dinner But, may be, you are busy, Sir ?" He put up the papers he was reading, and said, " I can have no business or pleasure of equal value to your company, my dear. What were you going to say ?" "Only, Sir, to know if you have any more kind injunctions to give me? I could hear you talk a whole day together." " You are very obliging, Pamela," said he ; " but you are so perfectly what I wish, that I might have spared those I gave you ; but I was willing you should have a taste of my freedom with you, to put you upon the like with me : for I am confident there can be no friendship lasting without freedom, and com- municating to one another even the little caprices, if my Pamela can have any such, which may occasion uneasiness to either. " Now, my dear," said he, " be so good as t6 find some fault with me, and say what you would wish me to do, to appear more agreeable to you." " O Sir," said I, and I could have kissed him, but for shame (to be sure I shall grow a sad fond hussy !) " I have not one single thing to wish for ; no, not one !" He saluted me very kindly, and said, he should be sorry if I had, and forbore to speak it. " Do you think, my dear Sir," said I, " that your Pamela has no conscience ? Do you think that, because you kindly oblige her, and delight in obliging her, that she must rack her invention for trials of your goodness, and knows not when she's happy ? O my dearest Sir," added I, " less than one half of the favours you have so generously conferred upon me, would have exceeded my utmost wishes.",, *' My dear angel," said he, and kissed me again, " I shall be trouble- some to you with my kisses, if you continue thus sweetly obliging in your actions and expressions." " O Sir," said I, " I have been thinking, as I was dressing myself, what excellent lesson^ you teach me. ' When you command me, at your table, to cheer the doubting mind, comfort the uneasy heart, and behave most kindly to those who have least reason to expect it, and are most inferior ; how sweetly, in every instance that could possibly occur, have you done this yourself, by your poor, unworthy Pamela, till you have diffused, in your own dear words, ease, pleasure, and tranquillity, around my glad heart! " Then again, Sir, when you bid me not be disturbed by little accidents, or by strangers coming in upon me unexpectedly, how noble an instange did you give me of this, when on our happy wedding-day, the coming of Sir Charles Hargrave, and the other two gentlemen (for which you was quit' unprovided, and which hindered our happiness of dining together on ** PAMELA. , SOS The Company arrive to dine with -Mr. B. \ . . chosen day) did not so disturb you, but that you entertained the gentle- men pleasantly, and parted with them civilly and kindly! What charming instances are these, I recollect with pleasure, of your pursuing the doctrine you deliver !" " My dear," said he, " these observations are very kind in you, and much to my advantage ; but if I do not always (for I fear these were too much accidents) so well pursue the doctrines I lay down, my Pamela must not expect my imperfections to be a plea for her non-observance of my lessons, as you call them ; for, I doubt, I shall never be half so perfect as you ; so I cannot permit you to recede in your goodness, though I may find myself unable to advance, as I ought, in my duty." " I hope, Sir," said I, " by God's grace, I never shall." " I believe it," aid he ; " but I only mention this, knowing my own defects, lest my future lessons should not be so well warranted by my practice, as in the instances you have kindly recollected." He was pleased to take notiee of my dress, and spanning my waist with his hands, said, " What a sweet shape is here \ It would make one regret to lose it ; and yet, my beloved Pamela, I shall think nothing but that loss wanting to complete my happiness." 1 put my bold hand before his mouth, and said, " Hush, hush ! O fie, Sir '. The freest thing you have tver yet said, since I have been yours 1" lie kissed my hand, and said, " Such an innocent wish, my dearest, may be permitted me, because it is the end of the institution. But say, would such a case be unwelcome to my Pamela ':" " I will say, Sir," said 1, and hid my blushing face on his bosom, "that your wishes in every thing shall be mine : but, pray, Sir, say no more." He kindly saluted me, and thanked mc, and changed the subject. I was not too free, 1 hope. Thus we talked till we heard the coaches : and then he said, "stay here in the garden, my dear, ;u:d I'll bring the company to you." When he was gone, I passed by the back-door, kneeled down against it, and blessed God for not permitting my then so much desired escape. I went to the pond, and kneeled down on the mos-y bank, and again blessed God there, for his mercy in my escape from myself, my then worst enemy ; though 1 thought I had none but enemies, and no friend near inc. And so I ought to do in almost every step of this garden, and every room in this house! I was bending my steps to the dear little chapel, to make my acknowledgment there ; but 1 saw the company approaching. Miss Darnford said, " So Miss Andrews, how do you do now ? Oh, you look so easy, so sweetly, u pleased, that 1 know you'll let me dance at your wedding, for I shall l Interview between Lady Pavers and Mrs. B. --'' i , I dare say you would no more be so discomposed, than I can help it.'' Said she, " Indeed, Madam, if it was to me, I would put on an air as mistress of the house, as you are, go and salute her ladyship, and bid her welcome." " Ay, ay," replied I, " fine talking ! But how unlucky this is, your good master is not at home." " What answer shall I give her," said she, " to her desiring to see you?" "Tell her," said I, " I am unwell, and must not be disturbed or any thing." But her woman came up to me just as I had uttered this, and said, " How do you do, Mrs. Pamela ! My lady desires to speak with you." Sa I must go. Sure she won't beat me. Oh, that my dear protector was at home '. Well, now I will tell you all that happened in this frightful interview. And very bad it was. 1 went down, dressed as I was, and my gloves on, and my fan in my hand, to be just ready to get into the chariot, when I could get away ; and I thought all my trembling fits had been over now ; but I was mis- taken ; for I trembled sadly : yet resolved to put on as good an air as I i-ould. So I went to the parlour, and said (making a very low curtsey) " Your sen ant, my good lady." " And your servant, again," said she, " my lady ; for I think you are dressed out like one." "_ A charming girl though," said her rakish nephew, and swore a great oath ; " dear aunt, forgive me, but I must kiss her :" and was coming to me. I said, " Forbear, uncivil gentleman! I won't be used freely." . " Jackey," said my lady, " sit down, and don't touch the creature ; she's proud enough already. There's a great difference in her air, I'll assure you, since I saw her last." " Well, child," said she, sneeringly, " how dost find thyself? Thou'rt mightily come on of late! I hear strange reports about thee ! Thou'rt almost got into fool's paradise, I doubt! And wilt find thyself terribly mistaken in a little while, if thou thinkest my brother will disgrace his family to humour thy baby-face !" " I see," said I, sadly vexed (her woman and nephew smiling by) " her ladyship has no very important commands for me ; and I beg te with- draw." ' Beck," said she to her woman, " shut the door ; my young lady and I must not have done so soon. " Where's your well mannered deceiver gone, child ?" says she Said 1, " When your ladyship it pleased to ipeak intelligibly, I shall know how to answer." " Well, but, my dear child," said she, in drollery, " don't be too pert, 510 PAMELA. ' ' 'IIP 1 , ' ' !-, Interview between Lady Daveri and Mrs. B. neither, I beseech thee. Thou wilt not find thy master's sister half so ready to take thy freedoms as he is ! So, a little of that modesty and humility that my mother's waiting-maid, used to shew, will become thee better than the airs thou givest thyself, since my mother's son has taught thee to forget thyself." " I would beg," said I, " one favour of your ladyship, that if you would have me keep my distance, you will not forget your own degree." "Why, suppose, Miss Pert, I should forget my degree, wouldst thou not keep thy distance then ?" , , " If you, Madam," said I, " lessen the distance yourself, you will descend to my level, and make an equality which I don't presume to think of ; for I can't descend lower than I am at least in your ladyship's esteem." *' Did I not tell you, Jackey," said she, " that I should have a wit to talk to ?" He, who swears like a fine gentleman at every word, rapping out an oath, and said drolling, " I think, Mrs. Pamela, if I may be so bold as to say so, you should know you are speaking to Lady Davers." " Sir," said I, " I hope there was no need of your information, so I can't thank you for it ; and am sorry you seem to think it wants an oath to convince me of the truth of it." He looked more foolish than I, at this, if possible, not expecting such a reprimand : and said, at last, " Why, Mrs. Pamela, you put me half out of countenance with your witty reproof." " Sir," said I, " you seem quite a fine gentleman ; and it will not be easily done, I dare say." " How now, pert one," said my lady, " do you know whom you talk to ?" " I think I do not, Madam," replied I : " and, for fear I should forget myself more, I'll withdraw. Your ladyship's servant !" said I ; and was going : but she rose, and gave me a push, and pulled a chair, and setting the back against the door, sat down in it. " Well," said I, " I can bear any thing at your ladyship's hands j" but I was ready to cry, though. And I went, and sat down, and fanned myself, at the other end of the room. Her woman, who stood all the time, said, softly, " Mrs. Pamela, you should not sit in my lady's presence." And my lady, though she did not hear her, said, " You shall sit down, child, in the room where I am, when I give you leave." So I stood up, and said, " When your ladyship will hardly permit me to itand, one might be indulged to sit down." " But I asked you," said she, " whither your master is gone !" " To one Mr. Carlton, Madam, about eighteen miles off, who is very sick." " And when does he come home ?" " This evening, Madam." " And where are you going ?" " To a gen- tleman's house in the town, Madam." "And how was you to go?" PAMELA. 311 Interview between Lady Davers and Mrs. B. " In the chariot." " Why, you must be a lady in time, to be sure ! I believe you'd become a chariot mighty well, child ! Was you ever out in it with your master?" " Pray, your ladyship," said I, a little too pertly, perhaps, " be pleased to ask half a dozen such questions together ; as one answer may do for all ?" " Why, Bold-face," said she, " you'll forget your distance, and bring me to your level before my time." I could no longer refrain tears, but said, " Pray, your ladyship, let me ask, what I have done to be thus severely treated ? I never did your \?uly- ship any harm. And if you think I am deceived, as you was pleased to hint, I should be more entitled to your pity than your anger." She arose, and led me to her chair ; then sat down ; and still holding my hand, said, " Why Pamela, I did indeed pity you, while I thought you innocent ; and when my brother seized you, and brought you down hither, without your consent, I was concerned for you ; and was still more con- cerned for you, and loved you, when I heard of your virtue and resistance, and your laudable efforts to get away from him. But when, as I fear, you have suffered yourself to he prevailed upon, and have lost your innocence, and added another to the number of the fools he has ruined" (this shocked me a little) " I cannot help shewing my displeasure to you." " Madam," replied I, " I must beg no hasty judgment : I have not lost my innocence." " ^ake care, taka can*, Pamela I" said she : " don't lose your veracity, as well as your honour ! Why are you here when at full liberty to go whither you please ? I will make one proposal ; and, if you are innocent, I'm sure you'll accept it. Will you go and live with me. I will instantly set out with you in my chariot, and not stay half an hpur longer in this house, if you'll go with me. Noiv, if you are innocent, and willing to keep so, deny me, if you can." " I am innocent, Madam," replied I, " and willing to heep so ; and yet I cannot consent to this." " Then," said she, very mannerly, '' thou liest, child, that's all ; and I give thee up!" And so she arose, and walked about the room in great wrath. Her nephew and her woman said, " Your ladyship is very good ; 'tis a plain case, a very plain case '." I would have removed the chair to have gone out ; but her nephew came and sat in it. This provoked me, fori thought I should be unworthy of the honour I was rais d too, though I was afraid to own it, if I did not shew some spirit : and I said, " What, Sir, is your pretence in this houic, to keep me a prisoner here ?" " Because," said he, " I like it." " Do you so, Sir ?" replied I : "if that is the answer of a gentleman to such an one as I, it would not, I dare say be the answer of a gentleman to a gen tkman." "My lady"! my lady 1" said he, "a challenge, a challenge-." v 4 312 PAMELA. Interview between Lady Davers and Mis. B. " No Sir," said I, ** I am of a sex that gives no challenge ; and you think so too, or you would not give this occasion for the word." " Pamela, Pamela," said my lady, and tapped me upon the shoulder two or three times, in anger, " thou hast lost thy innocence, girl; and thou hast got some of thy bold master's assurance, and art fit to go any whither." " Then, and please your ladyship," said I, " I am unworthy of your pre- sence, and desire I may quit it." " No," replied she, " I will know first what reason you can give for not accepting my proposal, if you are innocent f" " I can give," said I, " a very good one ; but I beg to be excused." " I will hear it," said she. " Why, then," answered I, " I should perhaps have less reason to like this gentleman, than where I am." " Well, then," said she, " I'll put you to another trial. I'll set out this moment to your parents, and give you up safe to them. Y^hat say you to that?" " Ay, Mrs. Pamela," said her nephev, " now what does your inno- cence say to that ? 'Pon honour, Madam, you have puzzled her now." " Be pleased, Madam," said'I, " to call off this fine gentleman. Your kindness in these proposals makes me think you would not have ine baited." " Jaekey, be quiet," said my lady. "You only give her a pretence to evade my questions. Come, answer me, Pamela." " I will, Madam," said I ; and it is thus : I have.no occasion to be beholden to your lady- ship for this honour ; for I am to set out to-morrow morning to my parents." "Now again, tbou best wench." " I am not of quality," said I, "to answer such language." " Cfnce, again," said she, " provoke me not, by these reflections, and this pertness ; if thou dost, I shall do some- thing by thee, unworthy of myself." " That," thought I, "you have done already ;" but I ventured not to say so. " But who is to carry you to . them ?" said she. " Who my master pleases, Madam," said I. " Ay," said she, " I doubt not, thou wilt do every thing he pleases, if thou hast not already." I was quite shocked at this, and said, " I wonder how your ladyship can use me thus ! My sex, and my tender years, might exempt me from such treatment, from a person of your ladyship's birth and qua- lity, and who, be the distance ever so great, is of the same sex with me." " Thou art a confident wench," said she, " I see!" "Pray," said I, " let me beg ycu to permit me to go. I am waited for in town, to dinner." " No," replied she, " I can't spare you ; and whomever you are to go to, will excuse you, when told 'tis I that command you not to go ; and you may excuse it too, young Lady Would-be, if you consider it is the unexpected coming of your late lady's daughter, and your master's sister, that commands your stay." " But a pre-engagement, your ladyship will eonsider, is something?'' PAMELA. 313 Interview between Lady Davers and Mrs. B. "Ay, so it is; but I know not why waiting-maids should assume these airs of pre-engagements f O Pamela, I am sorry for thy thus aping thy betters, and giving thyself such airs ; I see thou'rt quite spoiled ! A, modest, innocent girl thou wast, and humble too, but now art fit for-only what I fear thou art." " Why, please your ladyship," said her kinsman, ' what signifies all you say ? The matter is over with her, no doubt, she is in a fairy dream, and 'tis pity to awaken her before it is out."" Bad as you take me to be, Madam," said I, " I am not used to such language or reflections as this gentleman bestows upon me ; and I won't bear it." ' Well, Jackey," said she, " be silent ;" and shaking her head, " Poor girl '." said she, " what a sweet innocent is here destroyed. A thousand pities! I could cry over her, if that would do her good ! But she is quite lost, quite undone : and then has assumed a carriage upon it, that all those creatures are distinguished by." I cried sadly for vexation ; and said, " Say what you please, Madam : if I can help it, I will not answer another word." Mcs. Jewkes came in and asked, if her ladyship was ready for dinner ? She said, " Yes." 1 would have gone out with her ; but my lady said, taking my hand, she could not spare me. " Miss," said she, "you may pull off your gloves, and lay your fan by, for you shan't go ; and if you behave well, you shall wait upon me at dinner, and then I shall have a little further talk with you." 1 Mrs. Jewkes said to me, "Madam, may 1 speak one word with you ?" " I can't tell, Mrs. Jewkes," said 1 : " for my lady holds my hand, and you see I am a kind of prisoner." " What you have to say, Mrs. Jewkes," said she, " you may speak before me." But she went out, and seemed vexed for me ; and she says, I looked like the very scarlet. The cloth was laid in another parlour, and for three persons. " Come iny little dear," said she, with a sneer, " I'll hand you in ; and I would have you think it as well as if it was my brother." " What a sad case," thought I, " should I be in, if I were as naughty as she thinks me!" It was bad enough as it was. ^ "Jackey," said my lady, " let us go to dinner." She said to her woman, " Do you, Beck, help Pamela to 'tend us; we will have no mcn-fellon*. Come, my young 1 idy, shall I help you oft' with your whit" gloves i" " 1 have net, Madam," said I, " des< rved this at your ladyship's hands." Mrs. Jewkes coming in with the first dish, she said, " Do you expect any body else, Mrs. Jew k( s, that you lay the cloth for tin ee .' Said she, " j hoped your ladyship and Madam .'mild have been reconciled." " What means the clowniih woman '-" til my lady, in great disdain : " could > 514 PAMELA. Interview between Lady Davtrs and Mrs. B. think the creature should sit down with me ?" " She does, please your ladyship, with my master." " I doubt it not, good woman," said she. " But if she does, Madam," said Mrs. Jewkes, " there may he a reason for it, perhaps !" and went out. " So !" said she, " has the wench got thee over, too! Come, my little dear, pull off thy gloves;" and off she pulled my left glove herself, and spied my ring. " My stars," said she, " if die wench has not got a ring ! Well, this is a pretty piece of foolery, indeed ! Dost know, my friend, that thou art miserably tricked. And so, poor innocent, thou hast made a fine exchange, hast thou not ? Thy ho- nesty for this bauble : and I'll warrant, my little dear has topped her part, and paraded like any real wife ; and so mimics still the condition ! Why," snid she, and turned me round, " thou art as mincing as any bride ? Nq wonder thou talkest of thy pre~ engagements ! Pr'ythee, child, walk before me to that glass ; survey thyself, and come back, that 1 may see how finely thou canst act thy theatrical part !" I was then resolxed to try to be silent ; although most sadly vexed. So ! sat me down in the window, and she took her place at the upper end of the table, and her saucy Jackey, fleering at me most provokingly, sat down by her. Said he, " Shall not the bride sit down by us, Madam ?" "Ay, well thought of!" said my lady i " Pray, Mrs. Bride, your pardon for tak- ingyour place!" I said nothing. Said she, with a poor pun, "Thou hast some modesty, however, child! : i thou canst not stand it, so must sit down, though in my presence!" I still kept my seat, and said nothing. Thought I, " This is a sad thing, that I am hindered too from showing my duty where most due, and shall have anger there too, may be, if my dear master arrive before me ! So she ate some soup, as did her kinsman : and then cutting up a fowl, said, " If thou long'st, niv little dear, I wiil help thee to a pinion, or breast, or any thing." "But, may be, child," said he, "thou likest the rump; shall I bring it thee ;" and then laughed like an idiot, for all he is a lord's son, and may he a lord himself : for he is the son of Lord ' ; and his mother, who was Lord'Davers's sister, being dead, he received his educa- tion from Lord Davers's direction. Poor wretch ! for all his greatness! he'll never die for a plot at least of his own hatching. If I could then have got up, I would have given you his picture. But for one of twenty- five or twenty-six years of age, much about the age of my dear master, he is a most odd mortal. " Pamela," said my lady, " help me to a glass of wine. No, Beck," said she, "you sha'n't :" for she was offering to do it. " I will have my Lady Bride confer that honour upon me ; and then I shall see if she can stand up." I was silent, and never stirred. "Dost bear, Chastity <" said she, " help me to a glass of wine, when I PAMELA. - 315 Lady Pavers abuses Mrs. B. bid thee. What, not stir ! Then I'll come and help thee to one." Still 1 stirred not, and fanning myself, continued silent. Said she, " When I have asked thee, meek one, half a dozen questions together, I suppose thou wilt answer them all at once ! Pretty creature, is not that it ?" I was so vexed, I bit a piece of my fan out, not knowing- what I did: but still I said nothing, and did nothing but flutter it, and fan myself." " I believe.," said she, " my next question will make up half a dozen ; and then, modest one, I shall be entitled to an answer." He arose, and brought the bottle and glass. " Come," said he, " Mb. Bride, be pleased to help my lady, and I will be your deputy." "Sir," replied I, " it is in a good hand ; help my lady yourself." "Why, crea- ture," said he, " dost thou thir.k thyself above it ?" and then flew into a passion. " Insolence !" continued she, " this moment, when I bid you, know your duty, and give me a glass of wine, or " So I took a little spirit then Thought I, I can but be beat. "If," said I, " to attend your ladyship at table, or even to kneel at your feet, was required of me, I would most gladly do it, were I only the person you think me ; but, if it be to triumph over one who has received honours that she thinks require her to act another part, not to be utterly unworthy of them, I must say I cannot do it." She seemed quite surprised, and looked now upon her kinsman, and then upon her woman. " I'm astonished ! quite astonished ! Well, then, I suppose you would have me conclude you my brother's wife ; would you not ?" " Your ladyship," said I, " compels me to say this !" " Wei:," re- turned she, " but dost thou thyself think thou art so ?" " Silence," said her kinsman, " gives consent. 'Tis plain enough she does. Shall I riie, Madam, and pay my duty to my new aunt ?" " Tell me," said my lady, " what in the name of impudence, possesses^ thee to dare to look upon thyself as my sister." "Madam," replied I, " that is a question will better become your most worthy brother ti> answer than me." She was rising in great wrath ; but her woman said, " Good your lady- ship, you'll do yourself more harm than her; and if the poor girl has been deluded so, asyou have heard, with the sham-marriage, she'll deserve more your ladyship's pity than anger." " True, Beck," said she ; " but there'* no bearing the impudence of the creature, in the mean time." I would have gone out at the door, but her kinsman ran and set hi* back against it. I feared bad treatment from her pride and violent temper ; but this was worse than I expected. I said to him, " Sir, when my ma .tor comes to know your rude behaviour, you may havte ciiuc to rrpent it ;" and went and sat down in the window again. 31-6 PAMELA. ' Lady Davers abuses Mrs. B. " Another challenge !'* said he ; " but I am glad she says her master! You see, Madam, she herself does not believe she is married, and is not so muck deluded as you think for;" and coming to me with a most bar- barous air of insult, he said, kneeling on one knee before me, " My new aunt, your blessing or your curse, 1 carejiot which ; but quickly give me one or other, that I may not lose my dinner." I gave him a .most contemptuous look. " Tinsell'd boy!" said I (for he was faced all over) ** twenty or thirty years bonce, when you are at age, I snail know how to answer you better ; mean time, sport with your foot- man, and not me '." So I removed to another window, nearer the door, and he look'd like a sad fool, as he is. " Beck, Beck," said my lady, ** this is not to be borne ! Was ever the like heard ? Is my kinsman and Lord Davers's to be thus used by such a slat?" She was coming to me ; and indeed I began to be afraid ; for I have but a poor heart after all. But Mrs. Jewkes, hearing high words, came jn again with the second course, and said, " Pray, your ladyship, don't so discompose yourself. I am afraid this day's business will make matters wider than ever between your good ladyship and your brother : for my master doats upon Madam." " Woman," said she, ** do you be silent! Sure, I that was born in this house, may have some privilege in it, without being talked to by the saucy servants in it !" "I beg pardon, Madam," replied Mrs. Jewkes ; and, turning to mc, said, " Madam, my master will take it very ill, to make him wait for you thus." So I rose to go out; but my lady said, " If it was only for that reason she sha'n't go." And went to the door and shut it, and said to Mrs. Jewkes, " Woman, don't come again till I call you ;" and, coming to me, took my hand, and said, " Find your legs, Miss, if you please." I stood up, and she tapped my cheek ! " Oh," says she, "that scarlet glow, shews what a rancorous little heart thou hast, if thou durst shew it ;" and led me to her chair : " Stand there," said she, " and answer me a few questions while I dine, and I'll dismiss thee, till I call thy impudent master to account ; then I'll have you face to face, and all this mystery of iniquity shall be unravell'd ; for, between you, I will come to the bottom of it." When she had sat down, I moved to the window on the other side, looking into the private garden ; and her woman said, " Mrs. Pamela, d'>r.'t make my lady angry. Stand by her ladyship, as she bids you." said I, " Pray let it suffice you to attend your lady's commands, and don't lay yours upon me." " Your pardon, sweet Mrs. Pamela," said she. " Times are much alter'd with you, I'll assure you !" Said I, " Hep ladyship has a very good plea to be free in the house she was born in : but PAMELA. SI? Lady Davers 111 treats Mrs. B. you may as well confine your freedoms to the house in which you had your breeding." " Why, how now, Mrs. Pamela," said she : " sinee you provoke me to it, I'll tell you a jaiece of my mind." ** Hush, hush, good woman," said I, alluding to my lady's language to Mrs. Jewkes, *' my lady wants not your assistance : besides, I can't scold." The woman was ready to flutter with vexation ; and Lord .lackey laughed, as if he would burst his sides : "Why, Beck," said he, " you'd better let her alone to my lady here ; for she'll be too many for twenty such as you and I." And then repeated, "I can't scold, quoth-a ' Poor Beck, poor Beck ! she's quite dumb-foundered!" " Well, but, Pamela," said my lady, " come hither, and tell me truly, dost thou think thyself really married?" Said I, and approached her chair, "My good lady, I'll answer all your commands, if you'll have patience with me, and not be so angry as you are : but I can't bear to be use'd thus by this gentleman, and your ladyship's woman." "Child,** said she, " thou art very impertinent to my kinsman : thou canst not be civil to me ; and my ladyship's woman is much thy betters. But that's nottfbe tiling '. Dost thou think thyself really married ?" " I see, Madam," said I, ** you are resolved not to be pleased with an ft answer I shall return : if I should say, I am not, then you will call me hard names, and perhaps I shall tell a fib. If 1 should say, I am, your ladyship will ask, how I have the impudence to be so ? and will call it a sham-marriage." " I will be," said shf, " answered more directly." "Why, what, Madam, does it signify what 1 think ? Your ladyship will believe as you please." " But eans't thou have the vanity, the pride the folly," said she, " to think thyself actually married to my brother ? He is no fool, child ; and libertine enough of conscience ; and thou art not the first' in the list of bis credulous harlots." " Well, well," said I (and was in a sad flutter ^) " as I am easy and pleased with my lot, pray, Madam, let me continue ~o as long as I can. It will be time enough for me to know the worst, when the worst comes. And if it be so bad, your ladyship should pity, rather than thus torment me before my time." " Well," said she, " but dost not think I am concerned, that a young wench, whom my poor dear mother loved so well, should thus suffer her- self to be deluded and undone, after such a noble stand as thou mitd'st for so long a time '." " I think myself far from lying deluded and undone ; and am as inno- cent and virtuous as ever I was in my life." " Thou liest, child," said she. " So your ladyship told me twice before." She gave me a slap on the hand for this : I made a low curtsey, and said, "J humbly thank your ladyship ;" but 1 could not refrain tears. 318 PAMELA. Mrs. B. gives her Husband's Letter to Lady Davcrs. ' ~^~ and added, '" Vour dear brother, Madam, however, won't thank your ladyship for this usage of me, though I do." "Come a little nearer to nie, my dear," said she, " and thou shalt have a little more than that to tell him of, if thou think'st thou hast not made mischief enough already between a sister and brother. But, chiUr) if he was here, 1 would serve thee worse, and him too." " I wish he was," said I. " Dostthou threaten rive, mischief-maker, and insolent as thou art?" " Now, pray, Madam," said I (but got to a little distance) " be pleased to reflect upon all that you have said to me, since I had the lwnour, or rather misfortune, to come into your presence ; whether you have said one thing befitting your ladyship's degree, even supposing I was the wench and the creature you imagine 'me to.be?" " Come hither, my pert dear," replied she; " come but within my reach for owe moment, and I'll answer thee as thou deservest." To be sure she meant to box my ears. But I should be unworthy of my happy lot, if I could not shew some spirit. ' When the cloth was taken away, I saidy "I suppose I may naw depart your presence, Madam." "1 suppose not," said she. "Why, I'll lay thee a wager, child, thy stomach's too full to eat, and so thou may'st fast till thy mannerly master comes home."' " Pray your ladyship," said her woman, " let the poor girl sit down at table with Mrs. Jewkes and mz." Said I, " You are very kind, Mrs. Worden ; but times, as you said, are much altered with me ; and I have been of late so much honoured by better Company, that I can't stoop to . .. * jour s. " Was ever such confidence '." said my lady. " Poor Beck," said her kinsman ! " Why she beats you quite out of the pit !" " Will your lady- ship," said I, " be so good as to tell me how long I am to tarry ? For you'll please to see by that letter, that I am obliged to attend my master's commands." So I gave her the dear gentleman's letter from Mr. Carlton's, which I thought would make her use me better, as she might judge by it f the honour done me by him. "Ay," said she, " this is my worthy brother's hand. It is directed to Mrs. Andrew's That's to you, I suppose, child '." And so she read on, making remarks, as she went along, in this manner : " 'My dearest Pamela.' Mighty well ! ' I hope my not coming home this night will not frighten you !' Vastly tender, indeed. And did it frighten, you, child ? ' You may believe I can't help it.' No, to be sure ! A person in thy way of life is more tenderly used than an honest wife. But mark the end of it ' / could have wished' Pr'ythee, Jackey, mind this ' ice' mind the significant we ' had not engaged to the good neighbourhood, at Sir Simon's, for to-morrow night.' Why, does the good neighbourhood, and does Sir PAMELA. 319 Lady Davcrs's Remarks on the Loiter. - Simon, permit thy visits, child ? They shail have none of mine, then * But I am so -desirous to set out on Wednesday far the other house,' So, Jatkey, we hut just nicked it, I find' that as viell in return for the civilities of so many good friends, who will be there on purpose, I would not put it off.' Now mind Jackey '.What I beg of you Mind the wretch that could use me and your uncle as he has done ; he is turned beggar to this creature ! ' 1 beg of you, therefore, my dear My dear! there's for you ! I wish I may not be quite sick before^ I get through ' JVhat I beg of you therefore, my dear' (and then she looked me full in the faee) ' is, i hat you will go in the chariot to Sir Simon's, {he sooner in the day the belter' Dear heart ! and why so-, when we were not expected till night ? why, pray observe the reason .-Hem ! isaid she) * because you will be diverted with the company; Mighty kind indeed! 'who all' Jackey, mini this who all so much admire you.' Now he'd ha' been hang'd before he would have said so complaisant a thing, had he been married, I'm sure !" " Very true, aunt," said he, " a plain case that !" (Thought I, " That'* hard upon poor matrimony, though I hope my lady don't find it so." But I durst not speak out.) ' If 'ho all so mucJi admire you' (said she) " I must repeat that Pretty Miss ! I wish thou wast as admirable for thy. virtue, as for that baby-face of thine ! ' And I hone to join ycu there by your tea-time, in the afternoon !' So you're in very good time, child,' an hour or two hence, to answer all your important pre-engagements \~ ' which will be better than going home, and returning with you ; as it tuiH he six 7/iiles difference to me ; and 1 X.:.-?" the good company will excuse my dress on tlix occasion.' Very true, any dress is good enough, I am sure, for such company as admiie thee, child, for a coni-.a-iiori in thy ruinedstate! Jackey, mind again ! more line things still ! ' / count every hour of this little absence for a day !' There's for you ! Let me repeat it " / count every hour of this little absence for a day !' Mind too the wit of the* good man ! One may see lose is a new thing to him. Here is a very tedious tune gone since he saw his deary ; no less than, according to /*:. amorous calculation, a dozen days and nights at leas*. ! and yet, TEDIOUS as it is, it is but a little absence. Well said, my good, accurate, and consistent brother! Lint wise men in lose are always the greatest simpletons ! But now conies the reason why this little absence, which, at the same time, is so CHEAT an ABSENCE, is so tedious : for ' / am,' ay, now for it ! ' with the UTMOST sincerity, my dearest love 1 OlU upon dearest love ! I sh.ilj never love the word again ! Fray, bid your uncle never call me dearest love, Jackey! 'For ever yours V But, brother, thou knossest thou liest. And so my good Lidy Andrews, or what slmll I '.ill yon? your dearest love, will be 'for ever ycurt ." And hn-t thou the sanity to LcUi-ve 320 PAMELA. Lady Davers ofl'cnded at Ihc Letter. this ? But stay, here is a postscript. The poor man knew not when to have done to his dearest love. He's sadly in for't, truly ! Why, his dearest love, you are mighty happy in such a lover ! ' If you could go to dine with them' Cry your mercy, my dearest love, now comes the pre-engagement * it trill be a freedom that will be very pleasing to them, and the more, at they don't expect it.' "Well, so much for this kind letter ! But you see you cannot honour this admiring company with this little expected, and, but in complaisance to his folly, I dare say, little desired freedom. I admire you so much, my dearest love, that I will not spare you at all, this whole evening ! for 'tis a^ little hard, if thy master's sister may not be blest a while with thy charm- ing company." So I found I had shewed her my letter to very little purpose, and re- pented it several times as she read on. " Well, then," said I, " I hope your ladyship will allow me to send my excuses to your good brother, and say that you are come, and are so fond of me, that you will not let me go." " Pretty creature," said she: "and wantest thou thy good master to come and quarrel with his sister on thy account ? But thou shalt not leave me ; and I would now ask what it is thou meanest by shewing me this letter ?" " Why Madam," said I, " to shew your ladyship how I was engaged for this day and evening." " And for nothing else," said she. " Why I can't tell, Madam," said I : " but if you can collect from it any other circumstances, I might hope I should not be the worse treated." I saw her eyes sparkling with passion ; and she took my hand, and aid, grasping it very hard, " I know, confident creature, that you shewed it to iasult me ! To let me see that he could be civiller to a beggar born than to me, or to my good Lord Davers ! You shewed it me, as if you'd have me be as credulous a fool as yourself, to believe your marriage true, when I know the whole trick of it, and have reason to believe you do too ; and you shewed it to me, to upbraid me with his stooping to such painted dirt, to the disgrace of a family, ancient and untainted beyond most in the kingdom. And now will I give thee one hundred guineas for one bold word, that I may fell thee at my foot." Was not this very dreadful! To be sure I had better have kept the letter from her. I was quite frightened ; and this fearful menace, and her fiery eyes, and rageful countenance, made me lo*e all my courage. So I said, weeping, " Good your ladyship, pity me ! Indeed I am honest : indeed I am virtuous ; indeed I would not do a bad thing for the world." " Though 1 know," said she, " the whole trick of thy pretended marriage, and thy foolish ring here, and all the rest of the wicked non- sense : yet I should not have patience with thee if thou shouldst but PAMELA. 321 *~~ ' , .-. r _ Mrs. Jewkes interposes in behalf of her Mistress. offer to let me know tby vanity prompts thee to believe thou art married to my brother ! I could not bear the thought ! So take care, Pamela ; take care, beggarly brat ; take care." "Good Madam," said I, " spare my dear parents. They are honest and in- ddstrious : they were once in a very creditable way, and never were beggars. Misfortunes may attend any body : and lean bear the cruellest imputations on myself, because I know my innocence ! but upon such honest, indus- trious parents, who went through the greatest trials, beholden to nothing but God's blessings, and their own hard labour, I cannot bear reflection." " What ! art thou setting up for a family, creature as thou art ! Grant me patience with thee ! I suppose my brother's folly, and his wickedness, will soon occasion a search at the Herald's Office, to set out thy wretched obscurity. Provoke me, I desire thou wilt. One hundred guineas will I give thee, to say but thou thinkest thou art married to my brother." " Your ladyship, I hope, won't kill me : and since nothing I can say will please you, but your ladyship is resolved to quarrel with me ; since I must not say what I think, on one hand, nor on another : whatever your lady- ship designs by me, be pleased to do, and let me depart your presence.' She gave me a slap on the hand, and reached to box my ear ; but Mrs. Jewkes, hearkening without, and her woman too, they both came in at that instant ; and Mrs. Jewkes said, pushing herself in between us, " Your ladyship knows not what you do : indeed you don't. My master would never forgive me, if I suffered, in his house, one he so dearly loves to be so used ; and it must not be, though you are Lady Davers." Her woman too interposed, and told her I was not worth her ladyship's anger. But lie was like a person beside herself. I offered to go, and Mrs. Jewkes would have led me out ; hut her kins- man set his back to the door, and put his hand to his sword, and said 1 should not go, till his aunt permitted it. He drew it half-way, and 1 was so terrified, that I cried out, " Oh, the sword !the sword !" and, not knowing w lint I did, I ran to my lady herself, and clasped my arms about her, for getting just then how much she was my enemy, and said, sinking on my knees, " Defend me, good your ladyship ! The sword ! the sword 1" Mrs. Jewkes said, " Oil ! my lady will fall into fits;" but Lady Davers was herself so startled at the matter being carried so far ; thalshedid not mind her words, and said, " Jackey don't draw your sword ! as great as her spirit is, she can't bear that. *' Come," said she, " be comforted: he sha'n't fright you! I'll try to Overcome my anger, and will pity you. So, wench, rise up, and don't be foolish." Mrs. JewkeS held her salts to my nose, and I did not faint. And my lady said, " Mr. Jewkes, if you would be forgiven, leave Pamela and me by ourstlvc* ! And, Jackey, do you withdraw , only you, Beck, stay." i 11 / 322 PAMELA. - ' *- ' i i , I. Lady Davers locks Mrs. B. in the Room. So I sat down in the window, all in a fluster: for, to be sure, I was sadly frighted. Said her woman, '* You should not sit in my lady's pre- sence, Mrs. Pamela." " Yes, let her sit till she is a little recovered of her fright," said my lady ;." and do you set my chair by her." Soshe sat over- against me, and said, " To be sure, Pamela, you have been very provoking with your tongue : to be sure you have, as well upon my nephew (who is a man of quality too) as me." And palliating her cruel usage, and begin- ning, I suppose, to think herself, she had carried it further than she could answer it to her brother, she wanted to lay the fault upon me. " Own," said she, " that you have been very saucy ; and beg mine, and Jackey's pardon, and I will try to pity you. For you are a sweet girl, after all ; if you had but held out and been honest." " 'Tis injurious to me, Madam," said I, "to imagine I am not honest !" I then rose from the. window, and walking to the other end of the room, was in hopes to have slipped out of the door; but she pulled me back. " Pray, your ladyship," said I, " don't kill me ! I have done no harm." But locking the door, she put the key in her pocket. So seeing Mrs. Jewkes at the window, I lifted up the sash, and said, " Mrs. Jewkes, I be- lieve the chariot had better go to your master, that he may know Lady Davers is here, and I cannot leave her ladyship." She was resolved to be displeased, let me say what I would. Said she, " No, no ; he'll then think I make the creature my companion, and know not how to part with her." " I thought your ladyship," replied I, " could not have taken exception at this message." " Thou knowest nothing, wench," said she, " of what belongs to people of condition ; how shouldst thou?" " Nor," thought I, "do I desire it at this rate." "What shall I say, Madam," said I. " Nothing at all," replied she; " let him expect his dearest love, and be disappointed : it is but adding a few more hours, and he will make every one a day in his amorous account." Airs. Jewkes coming nearer me, and my lady walking about the room, being then at the end, I whispered, "Let Robert stay at the Elms; I'll have a struggle for't, by-and-by." She continued walking about, talking to herself, to her woman, and now and then to me : but seeing I could not please ber, I thought I had better be silent. And then it was, " Am I not worthy an answer ?" " If I speak," said I, "your ladyship is angry at me though ever so respect- fully ; if I' do not, I cannot please. Would jour ladyship tell me but how I shall oblige you, and I would do it with all my heart ?" " Confess the truth," said she, " that thou art an undone creature, and art sorry for it, and for the mischief thou hast occasioned between thy master and me ; then I'll pity thee, and persuade him to pack thee off, with a hundred or two of guineas : some honest farmer may take pity of PAMELA. 323 Mrs. B. escapes out of the Window from Lady Davers. thee, and patch up thy shame, for the sake of the money ; and if nobody will have thee, thou must vow penitence, and be as humble as I once thought thee." I was quite sick at heart, at all this passionate extravagance, and to be hindered from being where was the desire of my soul, afraid too of in- curring my dear master's displeasure ; and, as I sat, I saw it was no hard matter to get out of the window, the parlour being even with the yard, and so have a fair run for it ; and after I had seen my lady at the other end of the room again, having not pulled down the sash, when I spoke to Mrs. Jewkes, I got upon the seat, was out in a minute, and ran away as fast as I could, my iady calling after me to return, and her woman at the other window : but two of her servants appearing at her crying out, and she bidding them stop me, I said, "Touch me at your peril, fellows;" but their lady's commands would have prevailed, had not Mr. Colbrand, who it seems was kindly ordered by Mrs. Jewkes to be within call, when she saw how I was treated, come up, and put on one of his deadly fierce looks, the only time I thought it ever became him, and said, he would chine the man (that was his word) who offered to touch his lady ; so he ran along side of me : and I heard my lady say, " The creature flies like a bird !" Mr. Colbrand, with his huge strides, could hardly keep pace with me. I never stopped till I reached the chariot, and Robert, seeing me at a distance, had got down, and held the door in his hand, with the step ready ; but in I jumped, without touching it, saying, " Drive me, drive me, as fast as you can, out of my lady's reach !" He mounted, and Colbrand said, " Don't be frightened, Madam ; nobody shall hurt you." And shutting the door, away Robert drove ; but I was quite out of breath, and did not recover it and my fright all the way. Mr. Colbrand was so kind, but I did not know it till the chariot stopt at Sir Simon's, to step up behind, lest, as he said, my lady should send after me ; and he told Mrs. Jewkes, when he got home, that he never saw- such a runner as me in his life When the chariot stopt, which was not till six o'clock, so long did this cruel lady keep me, Miss Darnfurd ran out to me: "O Madam," said she, " tf.n times welcome ! But you'll be beat, I can tell you ; for Mr. B. has lictn come these two hours, and is very angry at you." " That's hard indeed," said 1 ; " indeed I can't afford it!" for I hardly knew what I said, having not recovered my fright. " Let me sit down, Miss, any where, for I have been sadly off." So 1 sat down, and was quite sick with the hurry of my spirits, ami leaned upon her arm. She said, " Your lord and master came in very moody ; and when he had staid an hour, and you not come, he began to fret, and said he did not expect so little complaisance from you. And he is now sat down wifi> i 2 324 , PAMELA. i Lk Mrs. P. assigns the Cause pf her Delay to Sir. B. great persuasion to a game at loo. Come, you must make your appearance, lady-fair ; for he is too sullen to attend you, I doubt." ** You have no strangers, have you, Madam ?" said I. " Only two women relations from Stamford," replied she, " and a humble servant of one of them." " Only all the world, Miss," said I. " What shall I do if he be angry ? I can't bear that." Just as I said so, came in Lady Darnford and Lady Jones to chide me, as they said, for not coming sooner. And before I could speak, came in my dear master. I ran to him. " How d'ye, Pamela," said he, saluting me with a little more formality than I could well bear. " 1 expected half a word from me, when I was so complaisant to your choice, would have determined you, and that you'd have been here to dinner ! and the rather, as I made my request a reasonable one, and what I thought would be agreeable to you." " O dear Sir," said I, ' pray hear me, and you'll pity me, and not be displeased ! Mrs. Jewkes will tell you, that as soon as 1 had your kind commands, I said I would obey you, and come to dinner with these good ladies ; and so prepared myself instantly, with all the pleasure in the world." Lady Darnford and Miss said I was their dear ! M Look you," said Miss, " did I not tell you, stately one, that something must have happened ? But O these tyrants ! these men !' "Why, what hindered it, my dear?" said he : "give yourself time: you seem out of breath 1 ." " O Sir," said I, " out of breath ! well I may ! For just as I was ready to come away, who should drive into the court- yard, but Lady Davers '." " Lady Davers ! nay, then iny sweet dear," said he, and kissed me more tenderly, '' hast thou had a worse trial than 1 wish thee, from one of the haughtiest women in England, though my sister ! For she too,. my Pamela, was spoiled by my good mother ! But have you seen her ?" " Yes, Sir," said I, " and more than seen her !" " Why sure," said he, " she has not had the insolence to strike my girl I" " Sir," said I, " but tell me you forgive me ; for I eould not come sooner ;'and these good ladies hut excuse me, and I'll tell you all another time; for to take up the good company's attention now, will spoil their pleasantry, and be to them, though more important to me, like the lady's broken china you cautioned me about." "That's a dear girl I" said h : " I see my hints are not thrown away upon you : I beg pardon for being angry ; and, for the future, will stay till I hear your defence before I judge you." Said Miss Darnford, " This is a little better ! To own a fault is some reparation, and what every lordly husband will not do." He said, " But tell me, my dear* did Lady Davers offer you any incivility ?" " O Sir," replied I, " she is your sister, and I must not tell you all; but she has used me very severely." "Did you PAMELA. 325 Mrs. B. relates Lady Davers's ill Treatment of her. tell her," said he, " you were married ?" " Yes, Sir, I did at last : but she will have it 'tis a sham-marriage, and that I am a vile creature : and *he was ready to beat me, when I said so ; for she could not have patience, that I should be deemed her sister, as she said." " How unlucky it was," replied he, " I was not at home ! Why did you not send to me here ?" " Send, Sir ! I was kept prisoner by force. They would not let me stir, or do you think I would have been hindered from obeying you ? Nay, I told them I had a pre-engagement ; but she ridiculed me, and said, ' Waiting- maids talk of pre-engagements!' And then I shewed her your kind letter ; and she made a thousand remarks upon itj and made me wish I had not. In short, whatever I could do or say, there was no pleasing her ; and I was a creature, and wench, and all that was naught. But you must not be angry with her on my account." "Well, but," said he, " I suppose she hardly asked you to dine with her; for she came before dinner, I presume, if it was soon after you received my letter ?" " No, Sir, dine with my lady ! no indeed ! Why, she would make me wait at table upon her, with her woman, because she would not expose herself and me before the men-servants ; which you know, Sir, was very good of her ladyship." " Well," said he, " but did you wait at table upon her?" " Would you have had me, Sir?" said I. " Only Pamela," replied he, " if you did, and knew not what belonged to your character, as my wife, I shall be very angry with you." " Sir," said I, "I did not; but refused it, out of con- sideration of the dignity you have raised me to ; else, Sir, I could have waited on my knees upon your sister." "Now," said be, " jou confirm my opinion of your prudence and judg- ment. She is an insolent woman, and shall dearly repent it." " But, Sir, she is to be excused, because she won't believe I am married : so don't be too angry at her ladyship." He said, " Ladies, pray don't let us keep you from the company : I'll only ask a question or two more, and attend you." Said Lady Jones, " I so much long to hear the story of poor Madam's persecution, that, if it was not improper, I should be glad to stay." Miss Darn ford would stay for the same reason ; my master saying he had no secrets to ask, and that it was kind of them to interest themselves in my grievances. But Lady Darn ford went into the company, and told them the cause of my detention ; for it seems my dear master loved me too well to conceal bis disappointment at my not being here to receive hi in ; and they had all given the two Mhs Boroughs and Mr. Peiry, the Stamford guests, such a character of me, that they said they were impatient to see me. Said my master, " But, Pamela, you said, ' Hki/,' and ' tlte/n,' who had 326 PAMELA. ,'-" . . Mrs. B. introduced to the Company. my sister with her, besides her woman ."' " Her nephew, Sir, and three footmen on horseback ; and she and her woman were in her chariot and six." " That's a sad coxcomb," said he; "how did he behave to you?" "Not extraordinarily, Sir: but I should not complain ; Tor I was even with him ; because I thought I ought not to bear with him as with my lady." Said he, " If I knew he behaved unhandsomely to my jewel, I'd send him home to his uncle without his ears." " Indeed, Sir," returned I, "I was as hard upon him as he was upon me." Said he, " Tis kind to say so : but I believe I shall make them dearly repent their visit, if I find their behaviour to call for my resentment. " But sure, my dear, you might have got away when you went to your own dinner ?" " Indeed, Sir," said 1, " her ladyship locked me in, and would not let me stir." " So you han't eat any dinner ?" " No, indeed, Sir, nor had a stomach for any." " My poor dear," said he. " But then how got you away at last?" "O Sir," replied I, "I jumped out of the parlour window, and ran away to the chariot, which had waited for me several hours, by the Elm-walk, from the time of my lady's coming (for I was just going, as I said;) and Mr. Colbrand saw me through her servants whom she called to, to stop me ; and was so kind to step behind the chariot, unknown to me, and saw me safe here." *' I am sure," said he, "these insolent creatures must have treated you, vilely. But tell me, what part did Airs. Jewkes act in this affair?" " A very kind part, Sir," said I, " in my behalf ; and I shall thank her for it." " Sweet creature !" said he, " thou lovest to speak well of every body : but I hope she deserves it ; for she knew you were married. But come, we'll now join the company, and try to forget all you have suffered, for two or three hours, that we may not tire the company with our concerns ; and resume the subject as we go home ; and you shall find, I will do you justice as I ought." " But you forgive me, Sir," said 1, " and are not angry !" " Forgive you, my dear," returned he. " I hope you forgive me ! I shall never make you satisfaction for what you have suffered from me, AnAfor me !" And with these words he led me into the company. He very kindly presented me to the two stranger ladies, and the gentle- man, and them to mc ; Sir Simon, who was at cards, rose from table, and saluted me ! " Adad, Madam," said he, " I'm glad to see you here. What, it seems, you have been a prisoner ! 'Tis well you was, or your spouse and I should have sat in judgment upon you, and condemned you to a fearful punishment for your first crime of leasee majestaiis ; (I had this explained to me afterwards, as a sort of treason against my liege lord and husband) for we husbands, hereabouts," said he, " are resolved to turn over a new PAMELA. 327 ^- ' ' Compliments of the Company upon Mrs. B. leaf wjth our wives, and your lord and master shall shew us the way, I can tell you that. But I see by your eyes, my sweet culprit," added he, " and your complexion, you have had sour sauce to your sweet meat." Miss Darnford said, " I think we are obliged to our sweet guest at last ; for she was forced to jump out at a window to come to us." " Indeed '." said Mrs. Peters ; and my master's back being turned, says she, " Lady Davers, when a maiden, was always vastly passionate ; but a very good lady when her passion was over. She'd make nothing of slapping her maids about, and begging their pardon afterwards, if they took it patiently ; otherwise she used to say the creatures were even with her." "Ay," said I, " I have been a many creutures and wenches, and I know hot what ; for these were the names she 'gave me. And I thought I ought to act up to the part her dear-brother has given me ; and so truly, I have but just escaped a good cuffing." Miss Boroughs said to her sister, a3 I overheard, but she did not design I should, " What a sweet creature is this ? and then she takes so little upon her, is so free, so easy, and owns the honour done her so obligingly !" Said Mr. Ferry, softly, " The loveliest person I ever saw ! Who could have the heart to be angry with her one moment?" Says Miss Darnford, " Here, my dearest neighbour, these gentry are admiring you strangely ; and Mr. Perry says you are the loveliest lady he ever saw ; and says it to his own mistress's face too, I'll assure you !" " Or elise," says Miss Boroughs, " I should think h.e much flattered me." " O Madam, you are exceedingly obliging; but your kind opinion ought to teach me humility, and to reverence so generous a worth as can give a preference against yourself, where it is so little due." " Indeed, Madam," 9ays Miss Nancy Boroughs, " I love my sister well ; but it would be a high compliment to any lady, to be deemed worthy of a second or third place after you." " There is no answering such politeness," said I : " I am sure Ladv Davers was very cruel to keep me from such company." " 'Twas our loss, Madam," said Miss Darnford." " I'll allow it," said I, " in degree ; for you have all bk upon with so much k ;, ,> ' -tinrtion." Mr. Perry was pleased to hold up his hinds ; and ti'.- ladies look.. I upon one another. My master ^;iid, hearing part of the last sentence, " What's the pretty subject that my Pamela i- displaying, so sweetly, her talents upon ?" / I 328 PAMELA. The Company sit down to Cards. " O Sir '." said Mr. Perry, " I will pronounce you the happiest mail in England ;" and so said they all. My master said, most generously, '* Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye, all round, my dear friends. I know not your subject ; but if you believe me so, for a single instance of this dear gitl's goodness, what must I think myself when blessed with a thousand instances, and experiencing it in every single act and Word. I do assure you, my Pamela's person, all lovely as you see it, is far short of her mind : that indeed first attracted my admiration, and made me her lover ; but they were the beauties of her mind that made me her husband: and proud, my sweet dear," said he, pressing my hand, " am I of that title." " Well," said Mr. Perry, very kindly and politely, " excellent as your lady is, I know not the gentleman that could deserve her, but that one, who could say such just and such fine things." I was all abashed, and took Miss Darnford's hand, and said, " Save me, dear Miss, by your sweet example, from my rising pride. But could I deserve half these kind things, what a happy creature should I be I" Said Miss Darnford, " You deserve them all, indeed you do." The greatest part of the company having sat down to loo, my master Wing pressed, said he would take one game at whist ; but had rather be excused too, having been up all night ; and I asked how his friend did. *' We'll talk of that," said he, " another time ;" which, and his serious- ness, made me fear the poor gentleman was dead, as it proved. We cast in, and Miss Boroughs and my master were together, and Mr, Perry and I ; and I had all four honours the first time, and we were up at one deal. Said my master, " An honourable hand, Pamela, should go with an honourable heart ; but you'd not have been up if a knave had not been one." '-' Whist, Sir," said Mr. Perry, "you know was a court game origi- aally ; and the knave, I suppose, signified always the prime minister." " 'Tis well," said my master, " if now there be but one knave in a court out of four persons, take the court through." " The king and queen, Sir," said Mr. Perry, " can do no wrong, you know. So there are two that must be good out of four, and the ace seems too plain a card to mean much hurt." "We compliment the king," said my master, "in that, manner ; and 'tis well to do so, because there is something sacred in the character. But yet, if force of example be considered, it is going a great way ; for cer- tainly a good master makes a good servant, generally speaking." " One thing," added he, " I will say in regard to the ace : I have always looked upon that plain and honest-looking card in the light you do: and have considered whist as an English game in its original ; which has made tin- fonder of it than of any other. For, by the ac< , I liave always PAMELA. 325 Conversation of the Company. thought the laws of the land denoted ; and as the ace is above the king and queen, and wins them, I think the law should be thought so too j though, may be, I 6halLhe_dee med a w hig f or my opinion." " I shall never play at whist," said Mr. Perry, " without thinking of this, and shall love the game the better for the thought; though I am no partyman." " Nor I," said my master ; " for I think the distinction of whig and tory odious ; and love the one or the other only as they are honest and worthy men : and have never (nor ever shall, I hope) given a vote but what I thought was for the public good, let either whig or tory propose it." " I wish, Sir," replied Mr. Perry, " all gentlemen in your station would act so." " If there was no undue influence," said my master, " I am willing to think so well of all mankind, that I believe they generally would. But you see," said he, " by my Pamela's hand, when all the court cards get together, and are acted by one mind, the game is usually turned accordingly : though now and then too, it may be so circumstanced, that honours will do them no good, and they are forced to depend altoge- ther upon tricks." I thought this way of talking prettier than the game itself. But I said, " Though I have won the game, I hope I am no trickster." " No," said my master, "court cards should sometimes win with Iionour .' But you see, for all that, jour game is as much owing to the knave as the king ; and you, my fair one, lost no advantage, when it was put into your power." " Else, Sir," said I, " I should not have done justice to my partner." *' You are certainly right, Pamela," replied he ; "though you thereby beat your husband." "Sir," said I, "you may be my partner next, and I must do justice, you know." " Well," said he, " always choose so worthy a friend as chance has given you for a partner, and 1 shall never find fault with you, do what you will." Mr. Perry said, " You are very good to me, Sir;" and Miss Boroughs, 1 observed, seemed pleased with the compliment to her bumble servant; by which 1 saw she esteemed him, as he appears to deserve. " Dear Sir," said I, "how much better is this than to be locked in by Lady Davers." The supper was brought in sooner on my account, because I bad no dinner ; and there passed very agreeable compliments on the occasion. Lady Darnford would help me first, as I had so long fasted, she said. Sir Simon would have placed himself next me : and my master said he thought it was best, where there was an equal number of ladies and gentlemen, that they should sit intermingled, that the gentlemen might be employed in helping and serving the ladies. Lady Darnford said, she hoped Sir Simon would not sit above any ladies, at his own table especially. " Well," *aid be, " I ihall sit over-against her, however, and that's .as well." 330 PAMELA. Remarks ou LaLfin made for one another." " O Madam," said I, " you are so kind, so good to me, I know not how to thank you enough." Said she, " You deserve more than I can ex- press ; for, to all who know your story, you are a matchless person. Yu are an ornament to our sex; and jour virtue, though .Mr. 1'.. is so "enerous as he is, has met with no more than it-, due reward. Ood lonj; bless you together !" " You are," said my dearest Sir, " very kind to me, Madam, 1 am sure. I have taken liberties in my former life, that deserve d nut so much excel- lence. I have offended extremely, by trials glorious to my Panu la, but disgraceful to me, against a virtue that I now consider as almost sacred; 332 PAMELA. Mrs. N. relates her ill Usage by L.idy Davcrs. and 1 shall not think I deserve her, till I can bring my manners, senti- ments, and actions, to a cuuformity with her own. In short, my Pamela* I want you to be nothing but what you are, and have been. You cannot be better ; and if you could, it would be but filling me with despair to attain the awful heights of virtue, at which you are arrived. Perhaps," added the dear gentleman, " the scene I have beheld within these twelve hours, has made me more serious than otherwise I should have been ; but I'll assure you, before all this good company, I speak the sentiments of my heart, and those not of this day only." What a happy daughter is your's, O my dear father and mother! I owe it all to God's grace, and to your's and my good lady's instructions ; and to these let me always look hack with grateful acknowledgments, that I may not impute to myself, and be proud, my inexpressible hap- piness. The company were so kindly pleased with our concern, and my dear master's goodness, that he, observing their indulgence, and curious to know the further particulars as to my lady and me, repeated his question, what she had called me besides wench and creature? And I said, " My lady, supposing I was wicked, lamented over me, very kindly, my depra- vity and fall, and said, what a thousand pities it was, so much virtue, as she was pleased to say, was so destroyed ; and that I had yielded, after so noble a stand ! " Excuse me, gentlemen and ladies," said I ; " you know my story, it seems, and I am commanded, by one who has a title to all my obe- dience, to proceed." They gave bows of approbation, that they might not interrupt me ; and I proceeded to tell them what had passed. They seemed highly pleased ; and my master said, he was glad Mrs-. Jewkes behaved so well, as also Mr. Colbrand. " Yes, Sir," said I ; " when Mrs. Jewkes interposed once, her ladyship said, it was hard, she, who was born in uiat house, could not have some privilege in it, without being talked to by the saucy servants. She called her another time fat face, and woman d her most violently." " Well," said my master, " I am glad, my dear, you have had such an escape. My sister was always passionate, as Mrs. Peter knows : and my poor mother had enough to do with us both ; for we neither of us wanted spirit. When I was a boy, I never came home from school or college for a few days, though we longed to see one another before, but on the first day we had a quarrel; for she, being seven years older than I, would domineer over me, and. I could not bear it. And I used, on her frequently quarrelling with the maids, being always at a word and a blow, to call her Captain Bab ; for her name is Barbara. When my Lord Davers courted PAMELA. 333 The Company engage in Dancing. her, my poor mother has made up quarrels between them three times in a day : and I used to tell her, she would certainly beat her husband, marry whom she would, if he did not beat her first, and break, her spirit. Yet has she very good qualities. She was a dutiful daughter, is a good wife ; she is bountiful to her servants, firm in her friend- ships, charitable to the poor, and, I believe, never any sister better loved a brother than she me : and yet she always loved to vex and tease me ; and as I would bear a resentment longer than she, she'd be one mo- ment the most provoking creature in the world, and the next would do any thing to be forgiven ; and I have made her, when she was the ag- gressor, follow me all over the house and garden to be upon good terms with me. " But this case piques her more, because she had found out a match for roe in the family of a person of quality, and had set her heart upon bringing it to effect, and had even proceeded far in it, without my know- ledge, and brought me into the lady's company, unknowing of her de- sign : but I was then averse to matrimony on any terms ; and was angry at her proceeding in it so far without my privity or encouragement : and she cannot, for this reason, bear the thoughts of my being now married, and to her mother's waiting-maid too, as she reminds my dear Pamela, when I had declined her proposal with the daughter of a noble earl. *' This is the whole case," said he ; " and allowing for the pride and violence of her spirit, and that she knows not, as I do, the transcendent excellences of my dear Pamela, and that all her view, in her own concep- tion, is mine and the family honour, she is a little to be allowed for: though, never fear, my Pamela, but that 1, who never had a struggle with her wherein I did not get the better, will do you justice, and myself too." This account of Lady Davcrs pleased every body, and was far from be- ing to her ladyships disadvantage in (he main ; and I would do any thing in the world to have the honour to he in hor good graces ; yet I fear it will not be easily, if at all, effected. But I will proceed. After supper, nothing would serve Miss Darnford and Miss Boroughs, but we must have a dance ; and Mr. Peters, who plays a good fiddle, urged it forward. My dear master, though in a riding dress, took out Miss Bo- roughs. Sir Simon, for a man of his years, danced will, and took me out; but put on one of his free jokes, that I was fitter to d.ince with a younger man, he would have it (though I had not danced since my dear lady's death but once or twice, to please Mrs. Jcrvis, and, indeed, believed all my dancing days over) that as my master and I were the best dancers, we should dance once together btforr. folks, as the old gentleman said ; my dear Sir was pleased to oblige him : and afterwards danced with Miss 334 PAMELA. 1 ... - Mr. and Mrs. B. return Home. Darnford, who has much more skill and judgment than I ; though they complimented me with an easier shape and air. We left the company with great difficulty, at about eleven, my dear master having been up all night before, and we being at the greatest distance from home ; they seemed inclined not to break up so soon, as they were neighbours ; and the ladies said, they longed to hear the end of Lady Davers's interview with her brother. My master said, he feared we must not now think of going next day to Bedfordshire, as intended ; and perhaps might see them again. So we took leave, and set out for home ; where we arrived not till twelve o'clock, and found Lady Davers had gone to bed about eleven, wanting much that we should come home first ; but so did not I. Mrs. Jewkes told us, that my lady was sadly fretted that I had got away so ; and seemed a little apprehensive of what I would say of her usage of me. I said, " Dear Sir, pray, in the morning, let me lock myself up when you rise ; and not be called down for ever so much ; as I am afraid to see her ladyship; and I will employ myself about my journal, while these things are in my head."" Don't be afraid, my dear," said he ; " am not I with you ?" Mrs. Jewkes pitied me for what I underwent in the day ; and I said, " We won't make the worst of it to my dear master, as we won't exaspe- rate where we would reconciles but," added I, " I am much obliged to you, Mrs. Jewkes, and thank you." Said my master, " I hope she did not beat your lady, Mrs. Jewkes ?" " Not much, Sir," said she ; " but I believe I saved her once : yet I was most vexed at the young lord." "Ay, Mrs. Jewkes," said my master, " let me know his behaviour. 1 can chas- tise him, though not my sister, who is a woman ; so let me know the part he acted." " Nothing, my dear Sir," said 1, " but impertinence, if I may so say, and foolishness, that was very provoking ; but I spared him not, and so there is no room, Sir, for your anger." " No, Sir," said Mrs. Jewkes, " nothing else indeed." " How did her woman behave?" said my master. " Pretty imperti- / nent," replied Mrs. Jewkes, " as ladies' women, will be." " But," said I, " you know she saved me once or twice." " Very true, Madam," re- turned Mrs Jewkc6. " She said to me at table, that you were a sweet creature : she never saw your equal ; but that you had a spirit ; and she was sorry you answered her lady so, who never bore such contradiction before. I told her," added .Mrs. Jewkes, " that if I was in your place. I should have taken much more upon me, and that you are all sweetness She said, I was got over, she saw." PAMELA. 335 Lady Davcrs enters her Brother's Bed-chamber. TUESDAY MORNING, THE SIXTH OF MY HAPPINESS. My master told Mrs. Jewkes, he should not rise till eight or nine, as he had sat up all the night before : but it seems my lady, knowing he usually rose about six, got up soon after that hour ; raised her woman, and her nephew ; having a whimsical scheme in her head, to try to find whether we were in bed together : and about half an hour after six, she rapt at our ebamber-door. My master was waked at the noise, and asked who was there ? " Open the door," said she; " open it this minute!" I said, clinging about his neck, " Dear, dear Sir, pray, pray, den't ! O save me, save me !" " Don't fear, Pamela," said he, the woman's mad, I believe." But he called out, ' Who are you ? What do you want ?" " You know my voice well enough," said she : I will come in." " Pray, Sir," said I, " don't let her ladyship in."-*-" Don't be frighted, my dear," said he ; " she thinks we are not married, and are afraid to be found a-bed together, i'/Het her in ; but she sba'n't come near you." So he slipt out of bed, and putting on some of his clothes, and gown and slippers, he said, " What bold body dare disturb my repose thus ?" and opened the door. In rushed she ; '*. I'll see your wickedness," said she, " I will : in vain shall you think to hide it from me." " What should 1 hide ?" said he. " How dare you set a foot in my house, after your usage of me?" I had covered myself over head and ears, and trembled every joint. " Beck," said my lady to her woman, " you see the creature is in his bed." " I do, Madam," answered she. " My master came to me," and said, " Ay, look Beck, and bear witness : here is my Pamela : my dear angel, my lovely creature, don't be afraid ; look up, and see how franticly this woman of quality behaves." At which, I just peeped, and saw my lady, who could not bear this, coming to me ; and she said, " Wicked, abandoned wretch ! vile brother, to brave me thus ! I'll tear the creature out of bed before your face, and expose you both as you deserve." At that he took her in his arms, as if she had been nothing ; and carrying her out of the room, she cried out, " Beck, Beck ! help me, Beck ; the wretch is going to throw me down stairs." Her woman ran to him, and said, " Good Sir, for Heaven's sake, do no violence to my lady : her ladyship has been ill all night.'' He set her down in her chamber, and she could not speak for passin. " Take care of your lady," said he, " and when she has rendered herself more worthy of my attention, I'll see her ; till then, at hor peril, and your's too, come not near my apartment." So he came to me, and with the sweetest soothing words, pacified my fears, gave mc leave to write ia 336 PAMELA. Lady Pnverg unwell through her Passion. my closet when my fright was over, and to stay there till things were more calm. Then he dressed himself, and went out of the chamber, permitting me to fasten the door after him. At breakfast-time, my master tapped at the door, and I said, ** Who's, there ?" t" I, my dearest," said he. " Oh, then," replied I, " I will open it with pleasure." I had written on a good deal, but I put it by, when I ran to the door. I would have locked it again, when he was in ; but he said, " Am not I here.? Don't be afraid." Said he, " Will you come down to breakfast, my love ?" " Oh, no, dear Sir," said I ; "be pleased to excuse me." Said he, '* I cannot bear the look of it, that the mistress of my house should breakfast in her closet, as if she durst not come down, and I at home !" " O dearest Sir," replied I, " pray pass that over for my sake ; and don't let my presence aggravate your sister for a kind punctilio." ' Then, my dear," said he, " I will breakfast with you here." " No, pray, dear Sir," answered I, " breakfast with your sister." " That, my dear," replied he, " will too much gratify her pride, and look like a slight to you." " Dear Sir," said I, " your goodness is too great for me to want punctilious proofs of it. Pray oblige her ladyship. She is your guest ; surely, Sir, you may be freest with your dutiful wife !" ** She is a strange woman," said he ; " how I pity her ! She has thrown herself into a violent fit of the colic, through passion ; and is but now, her woman says, a little easier." " I hope, Sir," said I, " when yon carried her ladyship out, you did not hurt her." " No," replied he, " I love her too well. I set her down in the apartment she had chosen ; and she but now desires to see me, and that I will breakfast with her, or refuses to touch any thing. But, if my dearest please, J will insist it shall be with you at the same time." " Oh, no, no, dear Sir," said I : " I should never forgive myself if I did. I would on my knees beg her ladyship's goodness to me now I am in your presence ; though I thought I ought to carry it a little stiff when you were absent, for the sake of the honour you have done me. And, dear Sir, if my deepest humility will please, permit me to shew it." *' Yon shall do nothing," returned he, " unworthy of my wife, to please the proud woman ! But I will, however, permit you to breakfast by your- self this once, as I have not seen her since I used her in so barbarous a manner, as I understand she exclaims I have ; and as she will not eat any tiling unless I give her my company." So he saluted me, and with- drew ; and I locked the door after him again for fear. Mrs. Jewkes, soon after, rapped at the door, " Who's there ?" said I. " Only I, Madam." So 1 opened the door. " 'Tis a sad thing, Madam," said she, " you should be so mirth afraid in your own bouse." She brought PAMELA. 337 Violent Behaviour of Lady Davers. me some chocolate and toast : and I asked her about my lady's behaviour : she said, she would not suffer any body to attend but her woman, because she would not be heard what she had to say ; but she believed, she said, her master was very angry with the young lord, as she called her kinsman : for as she passed by the door, she heard him say, in a high tone, " I hope, Sir, you did not forget what belongs to the character you assume ;" or to th.it effect. About one o'clock my master came up again ; and he said, " Will you come down to-dinner, Pamela, when 1 send for you ?" " Whatever you command, Sir, I must do : but my lady won't desire to see mc." " No matter whether she will or not. But I will not suffer, that' she shall pre- scribe her insolent will to my wife, and in your Own house too. I will, by my tenderness to you, mortify her pride ; and it cannot be done so well as to her face." " Dearest Sir," said I, " pray indulge me, and let me dine here by my- self. It will make my lady but more inveterate." Said he, " I have told her we are married. She is out of all patience about it, and yet pretends not to believe it. Upon that I tell her, then she shall have it her own way, and that I am not. And what has she to do with it either way ? She has scolded and begged, commanded and prayed, blessed me, and cursed me by turns, twenty times, in these few hours. And I have sometimes soothed her, sometimes raged ; and at last left her, and took a turn in the garden for an hour to compose myself, because you should not see how the foolish woman had ruffled me ; and just now I came out, seeing her coming in." Just as he had said so, I cried, " Oh ! my lady, my lady !" for I heard her voice in the chamber, saying, " Brother, brother, one word with you " stepping in sight of the closet where I was. He stept out, and she went up to the window, that looks towards the garden, and said, " Mean fool that I am, to follow you up and down the house in this man- ner, though I a:n shunned and avoided by you ! Vou a brother ! you a barbarian ! is it possible we coidd be born of one mother ?" " Why," said he, " do you charge me with a conduct to you, that you bring upon yourself? Is it not surprising that you should take the liberty with me, that the dear mother you have named never gave you an exam- ple for to any of her relations ? Was it not sufficient that I was insolently taken to task by you in your letters, but my retirements must be invaded ; my house insulted ? And, if I have one person dearer to me than another, that person must be singled out for an object of your violence." " Ay," said she, " that one person is the thing! But though I come with a resolution to be temperate, and to expostulate with you on your avoiding me so unkindly, yet cannot I have patience to look upon that bed in which I was born, and to be mad'.- the guilty scene of your wick- a ) c% . a \ 338 T A MELA. 77 r -r - Violent Behaviour of Lady Davers. J , j edness with such a " " Hush !" said he, " I charge you, call not the dear girl by any name unworthy of her. You know not, as I told you, her excellence ; and I desire you'll uot repeat the freedoms you have taken below." She stamped with her foot, and said, " God give me patience ! So much contempt to a sister that loves you so well ; and so much tenderness to a vile " Me put his hand before her mouth. "- Be silent," said he, " once more I charge you. You know not the innocence you abuse so freely. I ought not, neither will I bear it." She sat down and fanned herself, and burst into tears, and sueh sobs of grief, or rather passion, that grieved me to hear ; and I sat and trembled sadly. - He walked about the room in great anger ; and at last said, " Let me ask you, Lady Davers, why am I thus insolently to be called to account by you ? Am I not independent ? Am I not of age ? Am not I at liberty to please myself? If instead of a woman, and my sister, any man breathing had dared, whatever were his relation, under that of a father, to give himself half the airs you have done ! he should have seen the difference." " We all know," said she, " that since your Italian duel, you have commenced a bravo ; and all your airs breathe as strongly of the man- slayer as of the libertine." " This," said he, " I will bear ; for I have no reason to be ashamed of that duel, nor the cause of it ; since it was to save a friend, and because 'tis levelled at myself only ; but suffer not your tongue to take too great a liberty with my Pamela." She interrupted him in a violent burst of passion. " If I bear this," said she, " I can bear any thing ! O the little strumpet !" He interrupted her then, and said wrathfully, " Be gone, rageful woman, this moment from my presence ! Leave my house this instant ! I renounce you, and all relation to you ; and never more let me see your faee, or call me a bro- ther." And took her by the hand to lead her out. She laid hold of the curtains of the window, and said, " I will not go ! you shall not force me from you thus ignominiously in the wretch's hearing, and suffer lie.r to triumph over me in your barbarous treatment of me." Not considering any thing, I ran out of the closet, and threw myself at my dear master's feet, and said, " LVarest Sir, let me beg, that no act of unkindness, for my sake, pass between so worthy and so near relations. Dear, dear Madam," said I, and clasped her knees, " pardon the unhappy cause of all this evil ; on my knees I Ley; your ladyship .to .receive me to your grace and favour, and you shall iiud me incapable of any triumph but in your goodness to tat." */ Creature," a]d she, " art lliou to beg an excuse for me ? Art thou, PAMELA. S39 Mr. B. aspires Lady Davera of his Marriage. to implore my forgiveness ? Is it to thee I am to owe the favour, that I am not cast headlong from my brother's presence? Be gone t thy corner, wench ; be gone, I say, lest thy paramour kill me for trampling thee under my foot." " Rise, my dear Pamela," said my master, " rise, dear life of my life ! and expose not so much worthiness to the ungrateful scorn of so violent a spirit." So he led me to my closet, and there I sat and wept. Her woman came up, just as he had led me to my closet, and was returning to her lady ; and she very humbly said, " Excuse my intrusion, good Sir ! I hope I may come to my lady." " Yes, Mjre. Warden," said he, " you may come in ; and pray take your lady down stairs with you, for fear I should too much forget what belongs either to my sister, or myself !" I began to think (seeing her ladyship so outrageous with her brother) what a happy escape I had the day before, though hardly enough used in conscience too, as I thought. Her woman begged her ladyship to walk down : and she said, " Beck, seest thou that bed ? That is the bed I was born in ; yet, thou sawest, as well as I, the wicked Pamela in it, this morning, and this brother of mine just risen from her !" " True," said he, " you both saw it, and 'tis my pride that you could see it. 'Tis my bridal bed; and 'tis abominable, that the happiness I knew before you came, should be so barbarously interrupted." " Swear to me but, thou bold wretch," said she, " that Pamela Andrews is really and truly thy lawful wife, without sham, deceit, or double mean- ing ; and I know what I have to say." " I'll humour you for once," said he, and then swore a solemn oath, that I was. " And," said he, " did I not tell you so at first ?" " I cannot yet believe you," said she, "because, in this particular, I hail rather have called you knave than fool." " Provoke me not too much,'' said he ; " for, if I should as much forget myself as you have done, you'd have no more of a brother in me, than I have a sister in you." " Who married you ?" said she ; " tell me that ? was it not a broken attorney in a parson's habit? Tell me truly, in the wench's hearing. When she's undeceived, she'll know how to behave herself better !" " Thank God," thought I, " it is not so." " No," said he, " and I'll tell you, that 1 blessed God, I abhorred that project, before it was brpught to bear : and Mr. Williams married us." " Nay, then," said she, " but answer me another question or two, I be- seech you : who gave her away ?" " Parson Peters," said he. " Where was the ceremony performed ?" " In my own little chapel, which you may see, as it was put in order on purpose." A A -2 340 PAMELA. Mr. R. justifies his Choice of Mrs. B. * Now," said she, *' I begin to fear there is something in it. But who was present?" said she. " Methinks," replied he, ** I look like a fine puppy, to suffer myserf to be thus interrogated by an insolent sister : but, if you must know, Mrs. Jewkes. was present." " O the procuress," said she : " but nobody else ?" " Yes," said he, " all my heart and soul !" " Wretch!" said sbe; " and what would thy father and mother have said, had they lived to tbis day?" " Their consents," replied he, " I should have thought it my duty to ask ; but not your's, Madam." " Suppose," said she, " I had married my father's groom ! what would you have said to that ?" " I could not have behaved worse," replied he, " than you have done." " And would you not have thought," said she, " I bad deserved it ?" Said he, " Does your pride let you see no difference, in the case you put ?" " None at all," said she. " Where can the difference be between a beggar's son married by a lady, or a beggar's daughter made a gentle- man's wife ?" " Then, I'll tell you : the difference is, a man ennobles the woman he takes, be she who she will ; and adopts her into his own rank, be it what it will : but a woman, though ever so nobly born, debases herself by a mean marriage, and descends from her own rank to his she stoops to. " When the royal family of Stuart allied itself into the low family of Hyde (comparatively low, I mean) did any body scruple to call the lady Royal Highness, and Duchess of York ? Did any one think her daughters, the late Queen Mary and Queen Anne, less royal for that ? " When the broken-fortuned peer goes into the city to marry a rich tradesman's daughter, be he duke or earl, does not his consort immediately become ennobled by his choice ? and who scruples to call her lady, duchess, or countess ? " But when a duchess or countess dowager descends to mingle with a person of obscure birth, does she not then degrade herself ? and is she not effectually degraded ? And will any duchess or countess rank with her ? " Now, Lady Davers, see you not a difference between my marrying my dear mother's beloved and deserving waiting-maid, with a million of excellences, and such graces of mind and person as would adorn any distinction ; and your marrying a sordid groom, whose constant train of education, conversation, and opportunities, could possibly give him no other merit, than what must proceed from the vilest, lowest tastepn his sordid dignifier ?" " O the wretch !" said she, " how he finds excuses to palliate his meanness !" " A^ain," said he, " let me observe to you, Lady Davers, when a duke PAMELA 341 Mr. B. justifies his Choice qf Mrs. B. marries a private person, is he not still her head, by virtue of being her husband ? But when a lady descends to marry a groom, is not that groom her head, being her husband ? Does not that difference strike you ? For what lady of quality ought to respect another, who has made so sordid a choice, and set a groom above her? For, would it not be to put that groom upon a par with themselves ? Call this palliation, or what you will ; but if you see not the difference, you are blind, and a very unfit judge for yourself, much more unfit to be a censurer of me." " Publish your fine reasons," said she, " and they will be sweet encou- ragement to all the young gentlemen thatt read them, to cast themselves away on the servant wenches in their families." " Not at all, Lady Davers," replied he : " for if any young gem*eman stays till he finds such a person as my Pamela, so enriched with the beauties of person and mind, so well fitted to adorn the degrees she is raised to, he will stand as easily acquitted as I shall be, to all the world that sees her, except there be many more Lady Davers's than I apprehend can possibly be met with." " And so," returned she, " you say you are actually and really married, honestly, or rather foolishly, married te this slut ?" " I am indeed," said he, " if you pVesume to call her so ! And why should I not, if I please ? Wbo is there ought to contradict me ? Whom have I hurt by it ? Have I not an estate, free and independent ? Am I likely to be beholden to you, or any of my relations ? And why, when I have a sufficiency in my own single hands, should I scruple to make a woman equally happy, who has all I want? For beauty, virtue, prudence, and generosity too, I will tell you, she has more than any lady 1 ever saw. Yes, Lady Davers, she has all these naturally ; they are born with her; and a few year's education, with her genius, has done more for her than a whole life has done for others." " No more, no more, 1 beseech you ; thou surfeitest me, honest man ! with thy weak folly. Thou art more than an idolater ; thou hast made a graven image, and fallest down to worship the works of thine own hands; and, Jeroboam like, wouldst have every hody else bow down before thy calf V " Well said, Lady Davers ! Whenever your passion suffers you to de- scend to witticism, 'tis almost over with you. But let me tell you, though 1 myself worship this sweet creature, that you call such names, I want nobody else to do it ; and should be glad you had not intruded upoii me, to interrupt me in the course of our mutual happiness." ' Well said, well said, my kind, my well-mannered brother!" said she. " 1 shall, after this, very little interrupt your mutual happiness, I'll assure you. I thought you a gentleman once, and prided myself in my brother : \ \ 3 342 PAMELA. " ... ' ' ' ; w - Lady Davers determines to quit Mr. P. in haste. but I'll say now, with the burial service, " Ashes to ashei, and dirt to dirt !" " Ay," said he, " Lady Davers, and there we must all end ; yon with your pride, and I with my plentiful fortune, must come to it ; and then where will be your distinction ? Let me tell you, except you and I mend our manners, though you have been no duellist, no libertine, as you call me, this amiable girl, whom your vanity and folly so much despise, will infinitely out-soar us both ; and he who judges best, will give the prefe- rence where due, without regard to birth or fortune." "Egregious preacher!" said she: "what, my brother already turned puritan ! See what marriage and repentance may bring a man to ! I heartily congratulate this change '.Well," said she (and came towards me ; and I trembled to see her coming : but her brother followed to observe, and I stood up at her approach ; and she said) *' give me thy hand, Mrs. Pamela, Mrs. Andrews, Mrs. . What shall I call tbee ! Thou hast done wonders in a little time ! not only made a rake a husband ; but thou hast made a rake a preacher! Take care," added she, after all, in ironical anger, tapping me on the neck, " that thy vanity begins not where his ends ; and that thou callest not thyself my sister." " She shall, I hope, Lady Davers," said he, " when she can make as great a convert of you from pride, as she has of me from libertinism." Mrs Jewkes just then came up, and said dinner was ready. " Come, Pamela," said my dear master; " you desired to be excused from break- fasting with us ; but I hope you'll give Lady Davers anil me your company to dinner." " How dare you insult me thus ?" said my lady. " How dare you," said he, " insult me by your conduct, in my own house, after I told you 1 am married? Or think of staying here one moment, and refuse my wife the honours that belong to her as such ?" *' Merciful God !" said she, " give me patience !" and held her hand to her forehead. " Pray, dear Sir," said I, " excuse me ; don't vex my lady." " Be silent, my dear love," said he ; "you see already what you have got by your condescension. You have thrown yourself at her feet, and, insolent as she is, she has threatened to trample upon you. She'll ask you pre- sently, if she is to owe her excuse to your interposition ? And yet nothing else can make her forgiven." Poor ladyj she could not bear this ; and, as if discomposed, she ran to her poor grieved woman, took hold of her hand, and said, " Lead me down, lead me down, Beck ! Let us instantly quit this house, this cursed house, that once I took pleasure in : order the fellows to get ready, and I will never see it, nor it's owner, more." And away she went down stairs PAMELA. 345 - .... . - . Lady Davers determines to quit Mr. B. in hapte. in a great hurry. And the servants were ordered to make ready for their departure. I saw my master was troubled, and I went to him, and said, " Pray, dear Sir, follow my lady down, and pacify her. Tis her love to you." " Poor woman I" said he, I am concerned for her ! But I insist upon your coming down, since things are gone so far. Her pride will get new strength else, and we shall be all to begin again." " Dearest Sir," said I, " exouse my going down this once !" "Indeed, my dear, I won't," replied he. " What, shall it be said, that my sister should scare my wife from table, and I present ? No, I have borne too much already ; and so have you : and I charge you come down, when I send for you." He departed, saying these word?, and I durst not dispute, for I saw lie was determined. And there is as much majesty as goodness in him ; and as I have often observed, though never more than on the present occasion with his sister. Her ladyship instantly put on her hood and gloves, and her woman tied up her handkerchief full of things 5 for her principal mat- ters were not unpacked.;. and the coachman got her chariot ready, and her footmen their horses ; and she appeared resolved to go. But her kinsman and Mr. Colbrand had taken a turn together somewhere; and she would not come in, bnt sat fretting on a seat in the fore-yard, with her woman by her ; and at last said to one of the footmen x " Do you, James, stay to attend my nephew ; and we'll take the road we came." Mrs. Jewkes went to her ladyship, and said, " Your ladyship will be pleased to $tay dinner, 'tis just coming upon table." " No," said she, " I have indeed enough of this house ! But give my service to your mas- ter, and I wish him happier than he lias made me." He had sent for me down, and I came, though unwillingly, and the cloth was laid in the parlour I had jumped out of; my master walking about it. Mrs. Jewkes came in and asked, if he pleased to have dinner brought in ? for my lady would not come in, but desired her service, and wished him happier than he had made her. He, seeing her at the window, when he went to that side of the room, all ready to go, stept out and .at is not right, a-: PAMELA. 345 Lady Pavers strikes Mr. B. thing3 stand." Said my master, " No, Madam, that must not be : or, if so, we'll have two tables ; you and your nephew shall sit at one, and my wife and I at the other ; and then see what a figure your unreasonable punctilio will make you cut." She seemed irresolute, and he plaeed her at the table, the first course which was fish, being brought in. " Where," said she to me, " wouldst thou presume to sit ? Wouldst have me give place to thee too, wench ?" ** Come," said my master, " I'll put that out of dispute ;" and so sat himself down by her, at the upper end of the table, and placed me at his left hand. " Excuse me, my dear," said he, " this once." " Oh ! your cursed complaisance," said she, " to such a " " Hush, sister!" said he : "I will not bear to hear her spoke slightingly of! 'Tis enough, that, to oblige your violent and indecent caprice, you make me compromise with you thus." *' Come, Sir," added he, " pray take your place next your gentle aunt." " Beck," said she, " do you sit down by Pamela, there, since it must he so ; we'll be hail-fellow all !" " With all my heart," replied my mas- ter }"" I have so much honour for all the sex, that I would not have the meanest person of it stand while I sit, had I been to have made the custom. Mrs. Worden, pray sit down." " Sir," said she, " I hope I shall T.now my place better." My lady sat considering ; and then, lifting up her hands, said, " What will this world come to ?" " To uothing but what's very good," replied my master, " if such spirits as Lady Davers's do but take the rule of it. Shall I help you, sister, to some carp ?" " Help your beloved !" said she, " That's kind," said he : " Now that's my good Lady Davers ! Here, my love, let me help you, since my 'sister desires it." "Mighty well," re- turned she, " mighty well !" but sat on one side, turning from me, as it were. " Dear aunt,'' said her kinsman, " let' see yon buss and he friends; since 'tis so, what signifies it ?" " Hold thy fool's tongue ! is thy tone so soon turned since yesterday ?" Said my master, " I hope no affront was offered to my wife in her own house." She hit him a smart slap on the shoulder ; " Take that, impudent brother," said she, " I'll wife you, and in her own house !" She seemed half afraid ; but he, in very good humour kissed her, and said, '* Sister, I thank you. But I have not had a blow from you before for some time !" " Indeed, Sir," said her kinsman, " 'lis very kind of you to tak< it so well. Her ladyship is as good a woman as ever lived; but I ha\c had many a cuff from her myself." " I won't put it up lu-ither," said my master, " except you'll a-siirc nit. you have seen her serve her lord so." I pressed my footto his and said, softly, " Don't, dear Sir !"--*' What! 345 PAMELA. Mr. B. remonstrates with L;uly Davers. said she, f* is the creature "begging me off from insult? If his manners won't keep him from outraging me, I won't owe his forbearance to thee t wench." Said my master, and put some fish on ir.y lady's plnte, " Well doe* Lady Davers use the word insult ! But let me see you eat one mouthful, and I'll forgive you ; he put the knife in one hand, and the fork irr the other. " As I hope to live," said be, *' I cannot bear this silly childish- ness, for nothing, at all. 1 am quite ashamed of it." She put a little bit to her mouth, but laid it down agaiii ; " I cannot eat," said she ; " 1 cannot swallow, I am sure, it will certainly choke me." He had forbidden his men-servants to come in, that they might not behold the scene he expected : and rose from table himself, and filled a glass of wine, her woman offering, and her kinsman rising, to do it. Meantime, his seat between us being vacant, she turned to me " How, now, confi- dence," said she, " darest thou sit next me? Why dost thou not rise, and take the glass from thy property ?" " Sit still, my dear," said he ; M I'll help you both." But I arose ; for I was afraid of a good cuff; and said, " Pray, Sir, let me help my lady '.** " So you shall," replied be, " when she's in a humour to receive it as she ought." " Sister," said he, with a glass in his hand, * pray drink ; you'll then perhaps eat something." ". Is this to insult me ?" said she. " No really," returned he : M bat to incite you to eat} for you'll be sick for want of it." She took the glass, and said, " God. forgive you, wicked wretch, for your usage of me this day ! This is a little as it used to be ! I once had your love, and now it is changed ; and for whom ? that vexes me !" and wept so, she was forced to set down the glass." " You dun't dovell," said he. " You neither treat me like your bro- ther, nor a gentleman ; and if you would suffer me, I would love you as well as ever. But for. a womaji of sense and understanding, and a fine bred woman, as I onee thought my sister, you act crake a childish part. Come, added he," and held the glass to her lips, "let the brother yon once ioved, prevail on you to drii.k this glass of wine." She then drank it. He kissed her, and said, " Oh! how passion deforms the noblest minds ! "You haw lost much ol that loveliness that used to adorn my sister. Let me persuade you to compose yourself, and be my sister again?" For Lady J>avers is a fine woman ; and has a presence as majestic for a lady, as her dear broth** lias for a gentleman. He then sat between us, and said, when the second course came in, ;: Let Abraham come in, and wait ;" I touched his toe again ; but he minded it not ; and I saw he was right ; for her ladyship began to recol- l- t herse'f, and did not behave half so ill before the servants, as she had PAMELA. 547 Mr. B. endeavours to divert Lady Pavers's Attention. done, and helped herself with some little freedom ; but she could not forbear a strong sigh and sob row and then. She called for a glass of the same wine she drank before. Said he, " Shall I help you again, Lady Pavers ?" and rising, went to the sideboard, and filled her a glass. " In- deed," said she, " I love to be soothed by my brother. Your health, Sir I" Said my master to me, with great sweetness, ** My dear, now I'm up, I'll fill for you ! I must sjerve both sisters alike 1" She looked at the ser- vant as a little check upon her, and said to my master, " How now, Sir I Not that you know of," He whispered, ** Don't shew any contempt before my servants, to one I have so deservedly made their mistress. Consider 'tis done."" Ay," said she, " that's the thing that kills me." He gave me a glass ! " My good lady's health, Sir," said I. " That won't do !" said she, leaning towards me, softly ; and was going to say, wench or creature, or some such word. And my master, seeing Abraham look towards her, her eyes being red and swelled, said, " Indeed, sister, I would not vex myself about it, if I was you."" About what ?'* said she, " Why," replied he, " about your lord's not coining down as he had promised." He sat down, and she tapped him* on the shoulder: " Ah, wicked one !" said she, " nor will that do neither." " Why, to be sure," added he, " it would vex a lady of your sense and merit to be slighted, if it was so : but I am sure my lord loves you, as well ad you love him ; and you know not what may have happened." * She shook her head, and said, " That's like your art. This makes one amazed you should be so caught." " Who, my lord caught !" said he ; " no, no; he'll have more wit. But I never heard you were jealous be- fore." " Nor," said she, " have you any reason to think so now. Honest friend, you need not wait," said she ; " my woman will help us to what we want." " Yes, let him," replied he. " Abraham, fill me a glass. Come," said my master, " Lord Davers to you, Madam : I hope he'll take care he is not found out." " You're very provoking, brother. I wish you were as good as Lord Davers. But don't carry your jest too far." " Well," said be, " 'tis a tender point, I own. I've done." By these kind managements the dinner passed over better than 1 expected. When the servants were withdrawn, my master said, si ill sit- ting between us, " I have a question to ask you, Lady Davers ; and that is, If you'll bear me company to Bedfordshire ? I was intending to set out thither to-morrow. But I'll tarry your pleasure, if you'll go with me." " Is thy wife, as thou callest her, to go along with thee, friend ?" said she. " Yes, to be sure," answered he, " my dear quaker sister;" and took her hand, and smiled. " And wouldst have me parade it with her 348 PAMELA. = \' s s Mr. B. wishes Lady Davers to accompany him into Bedfordshire. on the road ? Hey ! And make one to grace her retinue ? Hey ! Tell me how thou wouldst chalk it out, if I would do as thou Wouldst have me, honest friend ?" He clasped his arms about her, and kissed her ; " You are a dear saucy sister," said he : " but I must love you. . Why, I'll tell you how I'd have it. Here shall you and my Pamela." " Leave out my, I desire you, if you'd have me sit patiently." " No," said he, '* I can't do that. Here shall you and my Pamela go together in your chariot, if you please ; and she will then appear as one of your retinue ; and your nephew and I will sometimes ride, and sometimes go into my chariot, to your woman." *' Shouldst thou like this, creature ?" said she to me. " If your ladyship think it not too great an honour for me, Madam," said I. " Yes," replied she, " but my ladyship does think it would be too great an honour." " Now I think of it," said he, " this must not be neither : for without you'd give her the hand, in your own chariot, my wife would be thought your woman, and that must not be." " Why, that would, may be," said she, " be the only inducement for me to bear her near me, in my chariot. But how then ?" " Why, then, when we came home, we'd get Lord Pavers to come to us, and stay a month or two." " And what if he was to come ?" " Why, I would have yon, as I know you have a good fancy, give Pamela your judgment on some patterns I expect from London, for clothes."" Provoking wretch SI' said she ; ** now I wish I may keep my hands to myself." " I don't say it to pro- voke you," said he, " nor ought it to do so. But when I tell you I am married, is it not of consequence, that we must have new clothes ?" " Hast thou any more of these obliging things to say to me, friend ?'' said she. " I will make you a present," returned he, " worth your accept- ance, if you will grace us with your company at church, when we make our appearance.". you heartily, and to your good man. I kissed you when I came in, out of form, but I now kiss you out of more than form, I'll assure you." Join with me, my dear parents, in my joy, for this happy turn; the contrary of which I so much dreaded, and was the only difficulty 1 had to labour with! This poor Miss Sally Godfrey, I wonder what's become of PAMELA. 357 Mr. B. rallied on the Stateliness of bis Temper. her, poor soul ; I wish he would, of his own head, mention her again. Not that I am very uneasy, neither. You'll say, I must be a little saucy if I was. My dear master gave me an account, when he went up, of the pains he had taken with his beloved sister, as he himself styled her ; and of all the kind things the good families had said in my behalf ; and that he observed she was not so much displeased with hearing them, as she- was at first : when she would not permit any body to speak of me as his wife ; and that my health, as his spouse, being put, when it came to her, she drank it ; but said, " Come, brother, here's your Pamela to you : but I shall not know how to stand this affair, when the Countess and the young ladies come to visit me." One of those young ladies was the person she was so fond of promoting a match for, with her brother. " Lady Betty, I know," said she, " will rally me smartly upon it ; and you know, bro- ther, she wants neither wit nor satire." He said, " I hope Lady Betty, whenever she marries, will meet with a better husband than I should have made her ; for, in my conscience, I think I should have hardly made a tolerable one to any hut Pamela." He told me that they rallied him on the stateliness of his temper ; and said, they saw he would make an exceeding good husband where he was ; but it must be owing to my meekness, more than his complaisance '* For," said Miss Darrtford, " I could see well enough, when your lady- ship detained her, though he had but hinted his desire of finding her at our house, he was so out of humour at her supposed non-compliance, that mine and my sister's pity for her was much more engaged, than o^ur envy." " Ay," said my lady, " he is too lordly a creature by much ; and can't bear disappointment, nor ever could." Said he, " Well, Lady Davers, you should not, of all persons, rind fault with me ; for I bore a great deal from you, before I was at all angry." " Yes," replied she ; " but when I had gone a little too far, as I own 1 did, you made me pay for it severely enough ! You know you did, sauce- box. And the poor thing too," added she, " that I took with me for my advocate, so low had he brought me ! he treated her in such a manner as made my heart ache for her ; but part was art, I know, to make me think the better of her." " Indeed, sister," said he, " there was very little of that : for, at that time, I cared not what you thought, nor had complaisance enough to have given a shilling for your good or bad opinion of her or me. And, 1 own, 1 was displeased to he broken in upon, after your provocations, by either of you ; and she must learn that lesson, never to come near me, when I am in those humours ; which shall be as little as possible ; for, after u U3 3$8 PAMELA. Conversation of Mr. and Mrs. B. a while, if let alone, I always come to myself, and am sorry for the violence of a temper, so like my dear sister's here ; and, for this reason, think it is no matter how few witnesses I have of its intemperance, while it lasts ; especially since every witness, whether they merit it or not, as you see in my Pamela's case, must be a sufferer by it, if unseat for they come in my way." He repeated the same lesson to me again, and enforced it ; and owned, that he was angry with me in earnest, just then ; though more with him- self afterwards, for being so : " But when, Pamela," said he, " you wanted to transfer all my displeasure upon yourself, it was so much bravi?ig- me with your merit, as if I must soon end ray anger, if placed there, or it was making it so light to you, that I was truly displeased : for," continued^e, " I cannot bear that you should wish, on any occasion whatever, to have me angry with you, or not to value my displeasure a3 the heaviest misfortune that could befal you." " But, Sir," said I, " you know that what I did was to try to reconcile my lady ; and, as she herself observed, it was paying her a high regard." " It was so," replied he ; " but never think of making a compliment to her or any body living, at my expense. She had behaved herself so intolerably, that I began to think you had stooped much more than I ought to permit my wife to do : and acts of meanness are what I can't endure in any body, but especially where I love : and as she had been guilty of a very signal one, I had then much rather have renounced her, than have been reconciled to her." " Sir," said I, "I hope I shall always comport myself so, as not wilfully to disoblige you for the future ; and the rather, as I am sure I shall want only to know your pleasure to obey it. But this instance shews me, that I may much offend, without designing it in the least." "Now, Pamela," replied he, " don't be too serious : I hope I sha'n't he a very tyrannical husband : yet do I not pretend to be perfect or always governed by reason in my first transports ; and I expect, from your affec- tion, that you wiil bear with me, when you find me so. I have no un- grateful spirit, and can, when cool, enter as impartially into myself as most men ; and then I am always kind and acknowledging, in proportion as I have been wrong. u But to convince you, my denr, of your fault (I mean, with regard to the impetuosity of my temper ; for there was no fault in your intention, that I acknowledge) I'il observe only, that you met, when you came to me, while I was so out of humour, a reception you did not expect, and a harsh word or two that you did not deserve. Now, had you not broken in upon me while my anger lasted, but stayed tiil I had desired your company, you'd have seen none of this ; but that affectionate behaviour, which, 1 PAMELA. 359 False Education of the Great. j\ doubt not, you'll always merit ; and I shall always take pleasure in ex- pressing ; and in this temper shall you always find a proper influence over me : but you must not suppose, whenever I am out of humour, that, in opposing yourself to my passion, you oppose a proper but to it ; but when you are so good, like the slender reed, to bend to the hurricane, rather than, like the sturdy oak, to resist it, you will always stand firm in my kind opinion, while a contrary conduct would uproot you, with all your excellencies, from my soul." " Sir," said T, " I will endeavour to conform myself, in all things, to your will." " I have no doubt of it : and I'll endeavour to make my will as conformable to reason as I can. And let me say, that this belief of you is one of the inducements I have had to marry at all : for nobody was more averse to this state than myself; and now we are upon this subject, I'll tell you why I was so averse. " We people of fortune, or such as are born to large expectations, of both sexes, are generally educated wrong. You have occasionally touched upon this, Pamela, several times in your journal, so justly, that I need say the less to you. We are usually so headstrong, so violent in our wills, that we very little bear control. " Humoured by out uurseS, through the faults of our parents, we prac- tise first upon them ; and shew the gratitude of our disposition, in an inso- lence that ought rather to be checked and restrained than encouraged. " Next , we are to be indulged in every thi ng at school ; and ou r masters and mistresses are rewarded with further grateful instances of our boisterous behaviour. " liut in our wise paTents* eves, all looks well ; all is forgiven and excused : and for no other reason, but because we are theirs. " Our next progression'is, we exercise our spirits, when brought home, to the torment and regret of our parents themselves, and torture their hearts by our undutiful and perverse behaviour, which, however ungrate- ful in us, is but the natural consequence of their culpable indulgence from our infancy upwards. " Then, after we have, perhaps, half broken their liearts, a utfe i_ looke d out for : c onvenience^ or birth, or fo rtune, are the first ino ti vc s ; affection tkcJa st (\i it is at all consulted) and two people thus educated, trained up in a course of unnatural ingratitude, and who have been head- strong torments to all who had a share in their education, as well is those to whom they owe their being, are brought together ; what can be ex- pected, but that they should pursue, and carry on, the same comfortable conduct in matrimony, and join most heartily to plague one another ? In some measure this is right ; because hereby they revenge the Autse of all those whom they have aggrieved and insulted, upon one another. IU4 360 PAMELA. False Education of the Groat. " The gentleman has never been controlled : the lady has never been contradicted. " He cannot bear it from one whose new relation, he thinks, should oblige her to shew a quite contrary conduct. She thinks it very barbarous, now, for the first timp, to be opposed in her will, and that by a man from whom she expected nothing but tenderness. " So great is the difference between what they both expectedyVom, and what they find in each other, that no wonder misunderstandings happen, and ripen to quarrels ; that acts of unkindness pass, which, even had the first motive to their union been affection, as usually it is not, wouM have effaced every tender impression on both sides. " Appeals to parents and guardians often ensue : if, through friends, a reconciliation takes place, it hardly ever holds : for why ? 'Lhg_faultjs in the mi nds of hotty. and neither of them will think so ; so that the wound (not permitted to be probed) is but skinned over ; rankles still at the bottom, and at last breaks out with more pain and anguish than before. Separate beds are often- the consequence ; perhaps elopements ; if not, an unconquerable indifference ; possibly aversion. And whenever, for ap- pearance sake, they are obliged to be together, every one sees, that the yawning husband, and the vapourish wife, are truly insupportable to each other ; but separate, have freer spirits, and can be tolerable company. " Now, my dear, I would have you think, and I hope you will have no other reason, that had I married the first lady in the land, I would not have treated her better than I will my Pamela : for my wife is my wife ; and I was the longer in resolving on the state, because I knew its requi- sites, and doubted my conduct in it. " I believe I ain more nice than many gentlemen ; having been a close, observer of the behaviour of wedded folks, and hardly ever having seen it such as 1 could like in my own case. I may give you instances of a more particular nature of this, as we are longer, and, perhaps, I might say, belter acquainted. " Had I married with the views of most gentlemen, and with such as my good sister (supplying the place of my parents) would have recom- mended, I had wedded a fine lady, brought up in my own manner, and used to have her will in every thing. " Some gentlemen can come into a compromise ; and, after a few struggles, are tolerably contented. Bat, had I married a princess, I could not have done so. I must have loved her exceedingly well, before I had consented to knit the knot, and preferred her to all her sex ; for without this, Pamela, indifferences, if not disgusts, will arise in every wedded life, that could not have made me happy at home ; and there are fewer in- PAMELA. 361 Qualities of a good Wife. * stances, I believe, of men loving better after matrimony than of women ; the reasons of which 'tis not my present purpose to account for. " Then I must have been morally sure that she preferred me to all men ; and, to convince me of this, she must have lessened, not aggra- vated, my failings ; she must have borne with my imperfections ; she must have watched and studied my temper ; and if ever she had any points to carry, any desire of overcoming, it must have been by sweetness and complaisance ; and yet not such a slavish one, as should make her condescension seem to be rather the effect of her insensibility, than judg- ment or affection. " She should not have caused any part of my conduct to wear the least aspect of compulsion or force. The word command on my side, or obedi- ence on her's, I would have bloated from my vocabulary. For this reason I should have thought it my duty to have desired nothing of her, which was not significant, reasonable, or just ; and then she should have shewn no reluctance, uneasiness, or doubt, to oblige me, even at half a word. " I would not have excused her to let me twice enjoin the same thing, while I took so much care to make her compliance with me reasonable, and such as should not destroy her own free agency, in points that ought to be allowed her: and though I was not always right, yet she would bear with me, if sh*e saw me set upon it ; and expostulate with me on the right side of compliance : for it would shew (supposing small points in dispute, from which the greatest quarrels, among friends, generally arise) that she differed from me, not for contradiction sake, but desired to convince me of my own ; and that I should another time take better resolutions. " This would be so obliging a conduct, that I should, in justice, double my esteem for one who, to humour me, gave up her own judgment ; and I should see she had no other view in her expostulations, after her com- pliance, than to rectify my notions for the future ; and then 1 could not but have paid the greater deference to her opinion aud advice in more momentous matters. " In all companies she must have shewn that she had, whether I deserve it altogether or not, a high regard and opinion of me; and this the rather, as such a conduct in her would be a reputation and security to herself: tor if we rakes attempt a married lady, our first encouragement, exclusive of our own vanity, arises from the indifferent opinion, slight, or contempt, she expresses of her husband. I should expect her therefore, to draw a kind veil over my faults ; such as she could not hide, to exte- nuate ; to place my better actions in an advantageous light, and shew that I had far ood opinion at least, whatever liberties the world took with my character. " She must have valued my friends for my sake; been cheerful and easy, 362 PAMELA. Mr. B.'s high Opinion of Mrs. B.'a Conduct. whomsoever I brought home ; and, whatever faults she observed in me, have never blamed me before company, at least with such an air of supe- riority as to have shewn she had a better opinion of her own judgment than mine. "Now, my Pamela, this is but a faint sketch of the conduct I must have expected from my wife, let her quality have been what it would : or have lived with her on bad terms. Judge, then, if to me a lady of the modish taste could have been tolerable. *' The perverseness and contradiction I have too often seen, in my visits, among people of sense, as well as condition, had prejudiced me to the married state ; and, knowing I could not bear it, surely I was in the right to decline it , and you see, my dear, that I have not gone among this class of people for a wife ; nor do I know where I could have found one suitable to my mind, if not you ; for here is my misfortune : I could not have been contented to have been but moderately happy in a wife. " Judge you, from all this, if I could very well bear for you to think yourself so secured of my atfection, as to take the faults of others upon yourself; and, by a supposed supererogatory merit, think your interposi- tion sufficient to atone for the faults of others. " Yet I am not perfect myself: no, I am greatly imperfect. But I will not allow, that my imperfections shall excuse those of my wife, or make her think I ought to bear faults in her which she can rectify, because she bears greater from me. " Upon the whole, I may expect, that you will bear with me, and study my temper, till, and only till, you see I am capable of returning insult for obligation ; and till you think, that I shall be of a gentler deportment, if I am roughly used, than otherwise, I should scorn mys#lf, if there was one privilege of your sex a princess might expect, as my wife, to be indulged in, which I would not allow to my Pamela : for you are the wife of my affections ; I never wished for one before you, nor ever do I hope to have another." " I hope, Sir," said I, " my future conduct " " Pardon me," said he, " my dear, for interrupting you ; but it is to say, that I am so well con- vinced of your affectionate regard for me, I know I might have spared the greatest part of what I have said : and, indeed, it must be very bad for both of us, if I should have reason to thipk it necessary to say so much. But one thing has brought on another ; and I have rather spoken what my niceness has made me observe in other families, than what \fear in my own. And, therefore, let me assure you, I am thoroughly satisfied with your conduct hitherto. You shall have no occasion to repent it ; but find, though greatly imperfect, and passionate, on particular provocations (which yet I will try to overcome) that you have not a brutal or ungene- PAMELA. 363 Mrs. B.'s Reflections on Mr. B.'s Conversation. roue husband, who is capable of offering insult for condescension, or returning evil for good." I thanked him for these kind rules, and generous assurances ; and said, they had made so much impression on my mind, that these, and his most agreeable injunctions before given me, and such as he might hereafter be pleased to give, should be so many rules for my future behaviour. I am glad for the method I have taken of making a journal of all that passes in these first stages of my happiness, for it will sink the impression still deeper ; and I shall turn to them for my better regulation, as often as I mistrust my memory. Let me see what are the rules I am to observe from this awful lecture ? Why these : 1. That I must not when he is in great wrath with any body, break in upon him without his leave. Well, I'll remember it, I warrant. But yet I think this rule is almost peculiar to himself. 2. That I must think his displeasure the heaviest thing that can befal me. To be sure I shall. 3. And so that I must not wish to incur it, to save any body else. I'll befurtlier if I do. 4. That I must never make a compliment to any body at his expense. 5. That I must not be guilty of any acts of wilful meanness. There is a great deal meant in this,- and I'll endeavour to observe it all. To be sure, the occasion on which he mentions this, explains it ; that I must say nothing, though in anger, that is spietful or malicious, disrespectful or undutiful, and suchlike. 6. That I must bear with him even when I find him in the wrong. This is a little hard, as the case may be. I wonder whether poor Miss Sally Godfrey be living or dead ! 7. That I must be as flexible as the reed in the fable, lest, by resisting the tempest like the oak, I be torn up by the roots. Well, I'll do the best I can ! There is no great likelihood, I hope, that 1 should be too perverse ; yet, sure, the tempest wilt not lay me quite level with the ground, neither. 8. That the education of young people of condition is generally wrong. Mem. That if any part of children's education fall to my bit, I never indulge and humour them in things they should be restrained in. That I accustom them to bear disappointment and control. 10. That 1 suffer them not to be too much indulged in their infancy. 11. Nor at school. 12. Nor spoil them when they come home. 13. For that children gent-rally extend their perverseness from the nurse to the schoolmaster j and from the schoolmaster to the parents. 864 PAMELA. .. Mrs. B.'s Reflections on Mr. B.'s Conversation. 14. And, in their next step, as a proper punishment for all, make their own selves unhappy. 15. That undutiful and perverse children make bad husbands and wives ; and, collaterally, bad masters and mistresses. 16. That, not being subject to be controlled early, they cannot, when married, bear one another. 17. That the fault lying deep, and in the minds of each other, neither will mend it. 18. Whence follow misunderstandings, quarrels, appeals, ineffectual reconciliations, separations, elopements, or, at best, indifference ; perhaps, . aversion. Mem. A good image of unhappy wedlock in the words yawning husband, and vapourish wife, when together ; but separate both quite alive. 1<). Few married persons behave as" he likes. Let me ponder this with awe and improvement. 20. Some gentlemen can compromise with their wives for quietness' sake ; but he can't. Indeed I believe that's true; 1 don't desire he should. 21. That love before marriage is absolutely necessary. 22. That there are fewer instances of men than women loving better after marriage. But why so? I wish he had given his reasons for this? I fancy they are not to the advantage of his own sex. 23. That a woman give ber husband reason to think she prefers him above all men. Well, to be sure, that should be so. 24. That if she would overcome, it must be by sweetness and complai- sance : that is, by yielding, he means no doubt. 25. Yet not such a slavish one, neither, as should iralfeer seem the effect of her insensibility, than judgment or affection. 26. That the worna jommand and obey shall be blotted out of his voca- bulary. Very good ! 97. That a man should desire nothing of his wife, but what is signifi- cant, reasonable, just. To be sure that is right. 28. But then, that she must not shw reluctance, uneasiness, or doubt, to oblige him ; and that too at half a word ; and must not be bid twice to do one thing. Hut may not this on some occasions be a little dispensed with ? But he says afterwards, indeed, 29. That this must be only while he took care to make her compliance reasonable and consistent with her free agency, in points that ought to be allowed her. Come, this is pretty well considering. 30. That if tire husband be set upon a wrong thing, she must not dispute with him, but do it, and expostulate afterwards. Good Sirs, I don't know what to say to this ! It looks a little hard, melhinks ! This would bear a \mall debute, J fancy, in a parliament of women. But then he says, PAMELA. 365 Xrs. B.'s Reflections on Mr. E.'s Conversation. * 31. Supposing they are only small points i"batare in dispute. Well, this mends a little. For, small points, I think, sJiould not be stood upon. 32. That the greatest quarrels among friends {and wives ar. f husbands are, or should be, friends) arise from small matters. This I believe ; for I had like to have had anger here, when I intended very well. 33. That a wife should not desire to convince her husband for contra- diction sake, but for his own. As both will find their account in this, if one does, I believe, 'tis very just. 34. That in all companies a wife must shew respect and love to her husband. 35. And this for the sake of her own reputation and security ; for, 36. That rakes cannot have a greater encouragement to attempt a mar- ried lady's virtue, than her slight opinion of her husband. To be sure, this stands to reason, and is a fine lesson. 37. That a wife should therefore draw a kind veil over her husband's faults. 38. That such as she could not conceal, she should extenuate. 39. That his virtues she should place in advantageous light: 40. And shew the world, that he had her good opinion at least. 41. That she must value his friends for his sake. 42. That she must be cheerful and easy in her behaviour to whomsoever he brings home with him. 43. That whatever faults she sees in him, she never blame him before company. 44. At least, with such an air of superiority, as if she had a less opinion of his judgment than her own. 45. That a man of nice observation cannot be contented to be only mo- derately happy in a wife. 46. That a wife take care how she ascribe supererogatory merit to her- self ; so as to take the faults of others upon her. Indeed, I think it is well if we can bear our own ! This is one of the same nature with the third ; and touclies upon me, on the present occasion for this wholesome lecture. 47- That his imperfections must not be a plea for Iter's. To be sure, 'lis no matter how good the women are t but 'tis to be hoped men will allow a (if tie. But indeed he says, 48. That a husband, who expects all this, is to be incapable of returning insult for obligation, or evil for good ; and ought not to abridge her of any privilege of her sex. Well, my dear parents, [ think this last rule crowns the rest, and makes them all very tolerable ; and a generous man, and a man of sensf, cannot be too much obliged. And, as I have this happiness, I shall be very unworthy if I do not always so think, and so act. 3C6 PAMELA. Conversation of Lady Davers and Mrs. B. Yet, after all, you see I have not the easiest task in the world. But I know my own intentions, that I shall not wilfully err ; and so fear the less. Not one hint did he give, that I durst lay hold of, about poor Miss God- frey. I wish my lady had not spoken of it ; lor it has given me jt curio- sity that is not quite so pretty in me, especially so early in my nuptials, and in a case so long ago past. Yet he intimated too, to his sister, that he had other faults (of this sort, I suppose) that had not come to her knowledge! But, I doubt net, he has seen his error, and will be very good for the future. I wish it, and pray it may be so, for his own dear sake ! WEDNESDAY, THE SEVENTH. When I rose in the morning, 1 waited on Lady Davers, seeing her door open ; she was in Bed, but awake, and talking to her woman. I said, " I hope I don't disturb your ladyship." " No, not at all," said she ; " I am glad to see you. How do you do?- Well," added she, " when do you set out for Bedfordshire ?" I said, " I can't tell, Madam ; it was designed as to-day, but I have heard no more of it." " Sit down," said she, "on the bed-side. I find by the talk we had yesterday and last night, you have had but a poor time of it, Pamela (I must call you so yet," said she) " since you were brought to thi6 house, till within these few days. And Mrs. Jewkes too has given Beck such an account as makes me pity you." " Indeed, Madam," said I, " if your ladyship knew all, you would pity me ; for never poor creature was so hard put to it. But I ought to forget it all now, and be thankful." " Why," said she, " as far as I can find, 'tis a mercy you are here now, I am sadly moved with some part of your story ; and you have really made a noble defence, and deserve the praises of all our sex." ** It was God enabled me, Madam," replied I. " Why," said she, " 'tis the more extraordinary, because I believe, if the truth was known, you loved the wretch not a little." " While my trials lasted, Madam," said I, " I had not a thought of any thing, but to preserve my innocence, much less of love." " But tell me truly," said she, " did not you love him all the time ?" " I had always, Madam," answered I, " a great reverence for my master, and thought all his good actions doubly good; and for his naughty ones, though I abhorred his attempts upon me, yet I could not hate him ; and always wished him well ; but 1 did not know that it was love. Indeed I had not the presumption." " Sweet girl !" said she, " that's prettily said ; but when he found he could not gain his ends., and began to be sorry for your suffering, and to PAMELA. , 367 Conversation of Lady Pavers and Airs. B. admire your virtue, and to profess honourable love to yon, what did you thjnk?" " Think ! indeed, Madam, I did not know what to think ; I could nei- ther hope nor believe so great an honour would fall to my lot ; and I feared more from his kindness, for some time, than I had done from his unkind- ness ; and, having had a private intimation, from a kind friend, of a sham-marriage intended, by means of a man who was to personate a minister, it kept my mind in too much suspense, to be greatly overjoyed by this kind declaration." Said she, " I think he did make two or three attempts upon you in Bed- fordshire !" " Yes, Madam," said I, " he was very naughty, to be sure." " And here, he proposed^articles to you, I understand ?" " Yes, Ma- dam," replied I ; " but I abhorred so much the thoughts of being a kept creature, that I rejected them with great boldness ; and was resolved to die before I would consent to them." " He afterwards attempted you, I think : did he not ?" " O yes, Madam," said I, " a most sad attempt he made ! and I had like to have been lost-; for Mrs. Jewkes was not so good as she should have been." So i told her ladyship that sad offer, and how I fell into fits ; and that they, believing me dying, forbore. " Any attempts after this base one ?" said she. " He was not so good as he should have been," returned I, " once in the garden, afterwards ; but I was so watchful, and so ready to take the alarm !" " But," said she, " did he not threaten you, at times, and put on his stern stirs, every now and then ?" " Threaten, Madam," replied I ; "yes, I had enough of that ! I thought I should have died for fear, several times." ** How could you bear that?" said she ; " for he is a most daring and majestic mortal ; he has none of your puny hearts ; but as courage- ous, as a lion : and, boy and man, never feared any thing. I myself," said she, " have a pretty good spirit ; but, when I have made him truly angry, 1 have always been forced to make it up with him as well as I could ; for, child, he is not one that is easily reconciled, 1 assure you. " But after he had professed honourable love to you, did he never attempt you again ?" " No, indeed, Madam, he did not. But he was a good while struggling with himself, and with his pride, as he was phased to call it, before he could stoop so low ; and considered again and again : and once, upon my saying but two or three words, to displease him, when very kind to me, he turned me out of doors, in a manner, at an hour's warning; for he sent me above a day's journey, toward my father's; and then sent a man and horse, post haste, to fetch me baek again ; and has been exceedingly kind and gracious to me ever since, and made me happy." 363 PAMELA. Conversation of Lady Daveis ami >irs. 15. " That sending you away," said she, " one hour, and sending after you the next, is exactly like my brother ; and 'tis well if he don't turn you off twice or thrice before a year comes about, if you vex him : he would have done the same by the first lady in the land, if married to her. Yet he has his virtues, as well as his faults ; for he is generous, nay, he is noble in his spirit; hates little dirty actions ; delights in doing good; but does not pass over a wilful fault easily. He is wise, prudent, sober, and magnani- mous ; and will not tell a lie, nor disguise his faults ; but you must not expect to have him all to yourself, I doubt. " But I'll no more harp upon this string : you see how he was exaspe- rated at me : and he seemed io be angry at you too ; though something of it was art, I believe." " Indeed, Madam," said I, " he has been pleased to give me a most uoble lecture ; and I find he was angry with me in earnest, and it will not be an easy task to behave unexceptionably to him ; for he is very nice and delicate in his notions, I perceive ; but yet, as your ladyship says, ex- ceeding generous." " Well," says she, " I. am glad thou hadst a little of his anger ; else I should have thought it art : and I don't love to be treated with low art, any more than he, and I should have been vexed if he had done it by me. " But, I understand, child," says she, "that you keep a journal of all matters that pass, and he has several times found means so get at it : should you care I should see it ? It could not be to your disadvantage ; for I find it had no smajl weight with him in your favour ; and I should delight to read all his stratagems, attempts, contrivances, menaces, and offers to you on one hand ; and all your pretty counter- plottings, which he much praises, your resolute resistance, and the noble stand you have made to preserve your virtue, and the steps by which his pride was sub- dued, and his mind reduced to honourable love, till you were made what you now are : for it must be a rare and uncommon story ; and will not only give me great pleasure in reading, but will entirely reconcile me to the step he has taken : and that, let me tell you, is what I never thought to be ; for I had gone far in bringing about a match with him and Lady Betty ; and had said so much of it, that the early her father, approved of it ; and so did the Duke of , her uncle ; and Lady Betty herself was not averse : and now I shall be hunted to death about it ; and this has made me so outrageous upon the matter. But when I can find, by your writings, that your virtue is but suitably rewarded, it will be not only a good excuse for me, but for him, and make me love you." " There is nothing I would not do," said I, " to oblige your ladyship ; but my poor parents (who had rather have seen me buried quick in the ewrth than to be seduced by the greatest of princes) have them in their PAMELA. 369 Good Character of Mrs. E.'s Parents. hands at present : and your dear brother has bespoke them, when they have read them ; but if he gives me leave, I will shew them to your lady- ship, with all my heart : not doubting your generous allowances, as I have had his ; though I have treated him very freely ; and that your ladyship would consider them as the naked sentiments of my heart, from time to time, delivered to those, whose indulgence I was sure of, and for whose sight only they were written." *' Give me a kiss now," said her ladyship, " for jour cheerful compli- ance ; for I doubt not my brother will consent I shall see them, because they must needs make for your honour ; and I see he loves you better than any one in the world. " I have heard," continued she, " a migkty good character of your parents, as industrious, honest, sensible, good folks, who know the world : and, as I doubt not my brother's generosity, I am glad they will make no ill figure in the world's eye." '* Madam," said I, " they^are the most honest, loving, and conscien- tious couple breathing. They once lived creditably, and brought up a great family, of which I am the youngest ; but had misfortunes, by doing beyond their power for two unhappy brothers, who are both dead, and whose debts they stood boutifl for ; and so became reduced, and, by harsh creditors (where most of their debts were not of their own contracting) turned out of all ; and having, without success, tried to set up a little country school (for my father understood accounts, and wrote a pretty good hand) forced to take to hard labour; but honest all the time ; con- tented ; never repining; and loving to one another; and, in the midst of their poverty and disappointments, above all temptation ; and all their fear was, that I should be wicked, and yield to temptation, for the sake of worldly riches : and to God's grace, and their good lessons, and those I imbibed from my dear good lady, your ladyship's mother, it is that I owe the preservation of my innocence, and the happy station 1 am exalted to." She was pleased to ki-,s me again, and said, " There is such a noble simplicity in thy story, such an honest artlessness in thy mind, and such a sweet humility in thy deportment, notwithstanding thy present station, that I believe I shall be forced to love thee, whether 1 will or not : and the sight of your papers, I dare say, will crown the work ; will disarm my pride, banish my resentment on Lady Hetty's account, and justify my bro- ther's conduct ; and redound to your own everlasting honour, as well as to the credit of our sex : so 1 make no doubt but my brother will let me iee them. " Worden," said my lady, " I can say any thing before you : and you Hill take no notice of our conversation ; hut I see you arc much touched with it . did you ever hear any thing prettier, more unaffected, sincere, "13 < . 370 PAMELA. Preparations for leaving Lincolnshire. free, and easy?" " Never, Madam," answered she, " in my life: and it is a great pleasure to see so happy a reconciliation, where there is so much merit." I said, '* I have discovered so much prudence in Mrs. Worden, that, with the confidence your ladyship places in her, I have made no scruple of speaking my mind freely before her ; and of blaming my dear master while blame-worthy, as well as acknowledging his transcendent goodness to me since ; which, I am sure, exceeds all I can ever deserve." " May be not," said my lady ; " I hope you'll be very happy in each other ; and I'll now rise and tell him my thoughts, and ask leave to read your papers : for I promise myself much pleasure in them ; and shall not grudge a journey and a visit to you at the other house to fetch them." " Your ladyship's favour," said I, " was all I had to wish for ; and if I have that, and the continuance of your dear brother's goodness to me, I shall be easy under whatever else may happen." So I took my leave, and withdrew ; and she let me hear her say to Mr% Worden, " 'lis a charming creature, Worden ! I know not which excels, her person or her mind ! and so young a creature too ! Well may my brother love her." I am afraid, my dear father and mother, I shall now be too proud indeed. I had once a good mind to ask her ladyship about Miss Sally Godfrey ; but I thoixght it was better let alone, since she did not mention it herself. May be, I shall* hear it too soon. But I hope not; I wonder though, whether she be living or dead. We breakfasted together with great good temper : my lady was very kind, and, asking my good master, he gave leave very readily, she should see all my papers, when you returned them to me ; and he said, he was sure, ok reading thein, she. would say, that I well deserved the fortune I had met with ; and would be of opinion, that all the kindness of his future life would hardly be a sufficient reward for my virtue, and make me amendr for my sufferings. My lady resolving to set out next morning to return to her lord, my master ordered everything to be made ready for his journey to Bedford- shire ; and this evening our good neighbours will sup here, to take leave til my lady and us. WEDNESDAY NIGHT. NorjiiNG particular having passed at dinner or supper, but the most f uijiiesceuding goodness on my lady's side to me, and the highest civilities from Mr. Peters's family, Lady Jones, Sir Simon's family, &c. and reci- procal good wishes all round, and a promise obtained from my bene- factor that he would endeavour to pass a fortnight or three weeks in these parts before th winter sets in ; I shall conclude this day with observing, PAMELA. S71 Mr. and Mrs. B. arrive in Bedfordshire. that I disposed of the money my master kindly gave me, in the method he directed ; and I gave Mrs. Jewkes tier's in such a manner as highly pleased her; and she wished me, with tears, all kind of happiness; and prayed me to forgive her all her past wickedness to me, as she herself called it. i begged leave to present Mrs. Worden. with five guineas for a pair of gloves ; which he said was well thought of. I should have mentioned, that Miss Darnford and I agreed upon a cor- respondence, which will be no smalt pleasure to me ; for she is an admi- rable young lady, whom I prefer to every one I have seen ; and I shall, I make no doubt, improve by her letters ; for she is said to have a happy talent in writing, and is well read for so young a lady. s SATURDAY. On Thursday morning my lady set out for her own seat ; and my best, friend and I, attended by Mr. Colbrand, Abraham, and Thomas, for this dear house. Her ladyship parted with her brother and me with great tenderness, and made me promise to send her my papers ; which she intends to entertain Lady Betty with, and another lady or two, her inti- mates, as also her lord, and hopes to find, as I believe, some excuse in them for her brother's choice. My dearest master has been all love and tenderness on the road, as he is in every place, and on every occasion. Oh, what a delightful change was this journey, to that- which, so contrary to all my wishes, and so much to my apprehensions, carried me hence to the Lincolnshire house ! And how did 1 bless God at every turn, and at every stage ! We did not arrive here till yesterday noon. Abraham rode before, to let them know we were coming. And 1 had the satisfaction to find every body there I wished to see. When the chariot entered the court-yard, I was so strongly impressed with the favours and mercies of God Almighty, on remembering how I was sent away from this house ; the leave I took ; the dangers I had encountered ; a poor cast off servant girl ; and now returning a joyful wife, and the mistress, through his favour of the noble house I was turned out of; I could hardly support my joy on the occasion. He saw how much I was moved, and tenderly asked me, why I seemed so affected ? Lifting his dear hand to my lips, I said, " O Sir ! God's mercies, and your goodness to me, on entering this dear, dear place, are above my expres- sion ; 1 can hardly bear the thoughts of them!" He said, " Welcome, thrice welcome, joy of my life ! to your own house ;" and kissed my hand in return. All the common servants stood at the windows, as unseen as they could, to observe us. With the most condescending goodness, and with great complaisance, he led me into the parlour, and kissed me with c c 2 872 PAMELA. ~ -a 11 -. l .. i . . . Meeting of Mrs. B. and Mrs. Jervis. T the greatest ardour. " Welcome again, my dearest life," said lie, " a thousand times welcome to the possession of a house that is not more nine than yours." I threw myself at his feet ; " Permit me, dear Sir, thus to bless God, and thank you, for all His mercies, and your goodness. Oh, may I so behave, as not to be utterly unworthy ; and then how happy shall I be S" " God give me, my dearest," said he, " life and health to reward all your sweetness ! and no man can then be so blest as I." ** Where," said he to Abraham, who passed by the door, " is Mrs. Jer- vis ?" She bolted in. " Here, good Sir," said she, " am I waiting impa- tiently, till called for to congratulate you both." I ran to her, and clasped my arms about her neck, and kissed her. " O my dear Mrs. Jervis !" said I, " my other dear mother ! receive your happy, happy Pamela; and join with me to bless God, and bless our master, for all these great things '." I was ready to sink in her arms, through excess of joy, to see the dear good woman, who was so often a mournful witness of my distresses, as now of my triumph. " Dearest Madam," said she, " you do me too much honour. Let my whole life shew the joy I take in your deserved good fortune, and in my duty to you, for the early instance I received of your goodness in your kind letter." " O Mrs. Jervis," replied I, " there all thanks are due, both from you and me : for our dear master granted me this blessing, as 1 may justly call it, the moment I begged it of him." " Your goodness, Sir," said she, " I will for ever acknowledge ; and I beg pardon for the wrong step I made in applying to my Lady Davers." He was so good as to salute her, and said, " All's over now, Mrs. Jervis ; and I shall not remember you ever disobliged me. I always respected you, and shall now more and more value you, for the sake of that dear good creature, that with joy unfeigned, I can call my wife." " God bless your honour for ever !" said she ; " and man)', many happy years may ye live together, the envy and wonder of all who know you !" ** But where," said my dear master, " is honest Longman ? and where is Jonathan ?" " Come, Mrs. Jervis," said I, " you shall shew me them, and all the good folks presently, and let me go up with you to behold the dear apartment which I have seen before with such different emotion to what I shall now do." We went up ; and in every room the chamber I took refuge in when my master pursued me, my lady's chamber, her dressing-room, Mrs. Jer- vis's room, not forgetting her closet, my own little bed-chamber, the green-room, and in each of the other I blessed God for my past escapes, and present happiness ; and the good woman was quite affected with the zeal and pleasure with which I made my thankful acknowledgments to the Divine Goodness. " O my excellent lady !" said she, ' you are still the PAMELA. 373 Meeting of Mrs. B. and Mr. Longman. same good, pious, humble soul ; and your marriage has added to your graces, as I hope it will to your blessings." " Dear Mrs. Jervis," said I, " you know not what 1 have gone through I Vou know not what God has done for me ! You know not what a happy creature I am now ! I have a thousand things to tell you ! and a whole week will be too little, every moment of it spent in relating what has befallen me, to acquaint you with it all. We shall be sweetly happy toge- ther, I make no doubt. But I charge you, my dear Mrs. Jervis, what- ever you call me before strangers, that, when by ourselves, you call me nothing but your Pamela. For what an ungrateful creature should I be, who have received so many mercies, if I attributed them not to the Divine Goodness, but assumed to myself insolent airs upon them '. No, I hope I shall be more and more thankful, as I am more and more blest ; and more humble, as God, the author of all my happiness, shall more distin- guish me." We went down again into the parlour, to my dear master. Said he, " Call Longman in again ; he longs to see you, my dear." He came in : " God bless you, my sweet lady !" said he, " as now, Heaven be praised, I may call you. Did I not say, Madam, that Providence would find you out?" " O Mr. Longman," said I, " God be praised for all his mercies ! I am rejoiced to see you ;" and 1 laid my hands on- his, and said, " Good Mr. Longman, how do you do ? I must always value you ; and you don't know how much of my present happiness I owe to the paper, pens, and ink, you furnished me with. 1 hope my dear Sir and you are quite recon- ciled." " O Madam," said he, " how good you are ! Why, I cannot contain myself for joy !" and then he wiped his eyes, good man. Said my master, " Yes, I have been telling Longman, that I am obliged to him for his ready return to me ; and that I will entirely forget his appeal to Lady Davers ; and I hope he wilPbe quite as easy and happy as he wishes. My partner here, Mr. Longman, I dare promise you, will do all */m can to make you so." " Heaven bless you both together," said he. " 'Tis the pride of my heart to see this ! I returned with double delight, when I heard the blessed news ; and I am sure. Sir," said he, " mark old Longman's words God will bless you for this every year more and more : You don't know how many hearts you have made happy by this generous deed !" " I am glad of it," said my dear master; " I am sure I have made my own happy : and, Longman, though I must think you SOMEBODY , yet as you are not a young man, and so won't make me jealous, I can allow you to wish my. dear wife joy in the tendercst manner." " Adad ! Sir," said he, " I am sure you rejoice me with your favour; 'tis what I long for, but durst not presume." " My dear," said my master, "receive the compliment of one of the huncstest heart* in 374 PAMELA. Mr. Longman intercedes for John_^rnold. England, that always revered your virtues '." And the good man saluted me with great respect, and said, " God in Heaven bless you both : and kneeled on one knee, I must quit your presence ! indeed I must !" and away he went. " Your goodness, Sir," said I, " knows no bounds : Ob, may my grati- tude never 6nd any !" " I saw," said my master, " when the good man ap- proached you, that he did it with so much awe and love mingled together, that I fancied he longed to salute my angel: and I could not but indulge his honest heart." " How blessed am I," said I, and kissed his hand. And indeed I make nothing now of kissing his dear hand, as if it was my own. ' When honest old Mr. Jonathan came in to attend at dinner, so clean, so sleek, and so neat, as he always is, with his silver hair, I said, " Well, Mr. Jonathan, how do you do ? 1 am glad to sec you. You look as well as ever, thank God 1" " O dear Madam," said he, " better than ever, to have such a blessed sight ! God bless you, and my good master'. I hope, Sir," said he, " you'll excuse all my past failings." " Ay, that I will, Jonathan," said he ; " because you never had any, but what your regard for my dear wife was the occasion of. And now I can tell you, you can never err, because you cannot respect her too much." " O Sir," said he, " your honour is exceeding good. I'm sure I shall always pray for you both." After dinner, Mr. Longman coming in, to talk of some affairs under his care, he said afterwards, " All your honour's servants are now happy ; for Robert, who left you, had a pretty little fortune fallen to him, or he never would have quitted your service. He was here but yesterday, to enquire when you and 'my lady returned hither ; and hoped he might have leave to pay his duty to you both."" Ay," said my master, " I shall be glad to see honest Robin, for that's another of your favourites, Pamela. It was high time, I think, I should marry you, were it but to engage the respects of all my family to myself." " There are, Sir," said 1, " ten thousand reasons why 1 should rejoice in your goodness." " But I was going to say," said Mr. Longman, " that all your honour's old servants are now happy, but one."" You mean John Arnold," said ruy master. " I do, indeed," said he, " if you'll excuse me, Sir." " Oh," said I, " I have had my prayer for poor John answered as favourably as I could wish." " Why," said Mr. Longman, " to be sure poor John has acted no very good part, take it altogether; but he so much honoured you, Sir, and so much respected you, Madam, that he wished to be obe- dient to both, and so was faithful to neither. But the poor fellow's heart is almost broken, and he won't look out for any other place ; and says, he must live in your honour's service, or he must die wretched very shortly." PAMELA. 375 John Arnold received again into Mr. B.'s Service. Mrs. Jervis being present, " Indeed," says she, " the poor man has been here every day since he heard the joyful tidings ; and he says, he hopes yet to he forgiven." **. Is he in the house now ?" said my master. " He is, Sir ; and was here when your honour came in, and played at hide and seek to have one look at you both when you alighted ; and was ready to go out of his wits for joy, when he saw your honour hand my lady in." " Pamela," said my dear master, " you're to do with John as you please. You have full power." " Then pray, Sir," said I, " let poor John come in." The poor fellow came in, with so much confusion, that I have never seen, a countenance that expressed so lively a consciousness of his faults, and mingled joy and shame. " How do you do, John ?" said I ; " I hope you are very well." The poor fellow could hardly speak, and looked with awe upon my master, and pleasure upon me. Said my master, " Well, John, nothing can be said to a man that has so much concern already : I am told you will serve me, whether I will or not ; but I leave you altoge- ther to my spouse here : and she is to do by you as she pleases." " You see, John," said I, " your good master's indulgence. Well may I forgive that have so generous an example. I was always persuaded of your honest intentions, if you had known how to distinguish between your duty to your master, and your good will to me : you will have no more puzzles on that account, from the goodness of your dear master." " I shall be but too happy '." said the poor man. " God bless your honour '. God bless you, Madam ! I now have the joy ef my soul in serving you both ; and I wil^makc the best of servants, to my power." *" Well, then, John," said I, " your wages will go on, as if you had not left your master : May I not say so, Sir ?" said I. " Yes, surely, my dear ; and augment them too, if you find his duty to you deserves it." " A thousand million of thanks," said the poor man : " I am very well satisfied, and desire no augmentation." So he withdrew overjoyed ; and Mrs. Jervis and Mr. Longman were highly pleased ; for though incensed against him for his fault to me, when matters looked badly, yet they and all his fellow-ser- vants, always loved John. When Mr. Longman and Mrs. Jervis had dined, they came in again, to know if he had any commands ; and my dear master, filling a glass of wine, said " Longman, I am going to toast the happiest and honestest couple in England, my dear Pamela's father and mother." " Thank you, dear Sir," said I. " I think," continued he, " that little Kentish purchase wants a ma- nager ; and as it is a little out of your way, Longman, I have been pur- posing, if I thought Mr. Andrew-; would ae< ept of it, that he should enter upon Hodge's faxm.jhat was, and so manage for t)\f that whole little c ( 4 376 PAMELA. Prosperous State of Mr. R.'s Affairs. "' affair; and we will well stock the farm for him, and make it comfortable ; and 1 think, if he will take that trouble upon him, it will be an ease to you, and a favour to me." " Your honour," said he, " cannot do a better thing ; and I have had some inkling given me; that you may, if you please, augment that estate, by a purchase, of equal amount, contiguous to it ; and as you have so much money to spare, I can't see your honour can do better." " Well," said he, " let me have the particulars another time, and we will consider about it. But, my dear," added he, " you'll mention this to your father, if you please. " 1 have too much money, Longman, lies useless ; though upon this occasion, I shall not grudge laying out as much in liveries, and other things, as if I had married a lady of fortune equal, if possible, to my Pa- mela's merit ; and I reckon you have a good deal in hand." " Yes, Sir," said he, " more than I wish I had. But I have a mortgage in view, if you don't buy that Kentish thing, that I believe will answer very well ; and when matters are riper, will mention it to your honour." " I took with me to Lincolnshire," said my master, " upwards of six hundred guineas, and thought to have laid most of them out there : (" Thank God," thought I, " you did not !" for he offered me five hun- dred of them, you know :) " but I have not, laid out above two hundred and fifty : so two hundred I left there in my escritoir ; as I shall go again for a fortnight or so, before winter : two hundred I have brought with me : and 1 have money, I know not what, in three places here ; the account of which is in my pocket-book, in my library. " You have made some little presents, Pamela, to m^ servants there, on our nuptials ; and these two hundred I have brought up, I will put into your disposal, that with some of them you shall do here as you did there." " I am ashamed, good Sir," said 1, " to be so costly, and so worth- less !" " Pray, my dear," replied he, " say not a word of that." Said Mr. Longman, " Why, Madam, with money in stocks, and one thing or another, his honour could buy half the gentlemen round him. He wants not money, and lays up every year. And it would have been a pity but hi* honour should have wedded just as he has." " Very true, Long- man," said my master ; and, pulling out his purse, said, " Tell out, my dear, two hundred guineas, and give me the rest." I did so. " Now," said he, " take them yourself, for the purposes I mentioned. But, Mr. Longman, do you, before sunset, bring my dear girl fifty pounds, which is due to her this day, by my promise ; and every three months, from this day, pay her fifty pounds, which will be two hundred pounds per annum , for her to lay out at her own discretion, and without account, in such a PAMELA. 377 Presents given to Mrs. .Jervis and Mr, Longinan. way as shall derive a blessing upon us all : for she was my mother's almoner, and shall be mine, and her own too."" I'll go for it this in- stant," said Mr. 'Longman. When he was gone, I looked upon my dear generous master and on Mrs. Jervis ; and he gave me a nod of assent ; and I took twenty guineas, and said, *' Dear Mrs. Jervis, accept of this, which is no more than my generous master ordered me to present to Mrs. Jewkes, for a pair of gloves, on my happy nuptials ; and so you, who are much more entitled, by th* love I bear you, must not refuse them." Said she, " Mrs. Jewkes was on the spot, Madam, at the happy time." " Yes," said my master, " but Pamela would have rejoiced to have had you there instead of her." " That I should, Sir," replied I, " or instead of any body except my own mother." She gratefully accepted them, and thanked us both -. but I don't know what she should thank me for; for I was not worth a fourth of them myself. " I'd have you, my dear," said he, " in some handsome manner, as you know how, oblige Longman to accept of the like present." Mr. Longman returned, and brought me the fifty pounds, saying, " I have entered this new article with great pleasure ; ' To my lady Jifty pounds ; to be paid the same sum quarterly ." " OSir," said I, "what will become of me, to be so poor in myself, and so rich in your bounty ! It is a shame to take all your profuse goodness would heap upon me thus : but indeed it shall not be without account." " Make no words, my dear," said he : " are you not my wife ? and have I not endowed you with my goods ? and, hitherto, this is a very small part." " Mr. Longman," said I, " and Mrs. Jervis, you both see I am even oppressed with unreturnable obligations." " God bless the donor, and the receiver too !" said Mr. Longman ; " I am sure they'll bring back good interest ; for, Madam, you had ever a bountiful heart ; and I have seen the pleasure you used to take in dispensing of my late lady's alms and donations." " Mr. Longman," said I, " though \ou are so willing to have mc take large sums for nothing at all, I should affront you, if I asked you to accept from me a pair of gloves only, on account of my happy nuptials." He seemed not readily to know how to answer; and my master said, " If Longman refuse you, my dear, he may be said to refuse your first favour. On that 1 put twenty guineas in his hand ; but he insisted upon it, that he would take but five. I said, " I must desire you to oblige me, Mr, Longman, or I 'hall think I have affronted you." " Well, if I must," said he," I know what 1 know." "What is that, Mr. Longman?" said I. " Why, Madam," said he, " I will not lay it out till my young master's birth-day, vvhi<-h I hope will he within this year." 378 PAMELA. Presents given te the Servants. Not expecting this from the old gentleman, I looked at my master, and theu blushed so, I could not bold up my head. " Charmingly said, Long- man !" said he, and clasped me in his arms : " O my dear life ! God send it may be so ! You have quite delighted me, Longman ; though I durst not have said such a thing for the world." " Madam," said the old gen- tleman, " I beg your pardon ; I hope no offence : but I'd speak it ten times in a breath to have it so, take it as you please, while my good mas- ter bears it so well." " Mrs. Jervis," said my master, " this is an over nice dear creature ; you don't know what a life I have had with her, even on this side matrimony." Said Mrs. Jervis, "I think Mr. Longman says very well ; I ani sure I shall hope for it too." Mr. Longman, who had struck me of a heap, withdrawing soon after, my master said, " Why, my dear, you can't look up ! The old man said nothing shocking." " I did not expect it, though, from him," said I. " I was not aware but of some innocent pleasantry." " Why, so it was," said he, " both innocent and pleasant : and 1 won't forgive you, if you don't say as he says. Come, speak before Mrs. Jervis." " May every thing happen, Sir," said I, " that will give you delight !" " That's my dearest love," said he, and kissed me with great tenderness. When the servants had dined, I desired to see the maidens ; and all four came up together. " You are welcome home, Madam," said R achel ; " we all rejoice to see you herp, and more to see you our lady." " O my good old acquaintances, I joy to see you '." " How do you do, Rachel ? How do you all do?" I took each by the hand, and could have kissed them. " For," said I to myself, " I kissed you all, last time 1 saw you, ih sorrow ; why should I not with joy ?" But 1 forbore in honour of their dear master's presence. They seemed quite transported with roe ; and my good master was pleased with the scene. " See here, my lasses," said he, " your mistress ! I need not bid you respect her, for you always loved her ; and she'll have it as much in her power as inclination to be kind to the deserving." " Indeed," said I, " I shall always be a kind friend to you : and your dear good master has ordered me to give each of you five guineas, that you may rejoice with me on my happiness." And I said, '1 God bless you everyone! I am overjoyed to see you." And they withdrew with the greatest gratitude and pleasure, praying for us both. I turned to my dear master : " 'Tis to you, dear Sir," said I, " next to God, who put it into your generous heart, that all my happiness is owing! That my mind thus overflows with joy and gratitude '."-.And I would have kissed his hand, but he clasped me in his arms, and said, " My dear, you deserve it all." Mrs. Jervis came in : said she, " I have seen a very affect- iii 0, sight ; you have made your maidens quite happy, with your conde- . PAMELA. 379 Presents given to the Servants. scension and kindness. I saw them all four, as I came by the hall-door, just got up from their knees, praising and praying for you both !" " Dear good bodies !" said I ; " and did Jane pray too ? May their prayers be returned upon themselves, I say !" My master sent for Jonathan, and I held up all the fingers of my two hands ; and my master approving, I said, " Well, Mr. Jonathan, I could not be satisfied without seeing you in form, as it were, and thanking you for all jour past good will to me. You'll accept of that for a pair of gloves, on this happy occasion ; and I gave him ten guineas, and took his honest hand between both mine : " God. bless you," said I, " with your silver hairs, so like my dear father! I shall always value such a good old servant of the best of master's !" He said, " O such goodness ! such kind words ! It is a balm to my heart ! Blessed be God I have lived to this day '." and his eyes swam with tears, and he withdrew. " My dear," said my master, " you make every one happy !" " O Sir," said I, " 'tis you, 'tis you ; and let my grateful heart always spring to my lips, to acknow- ledge the blessings you heap upon me." Then in came Harry, Isaac, Benjamin, and the two grooms of his house, and Arthur the gardener : for my dear master had ordered them by Mrs. Jervis thus to be marshalled out ; and he said, " Where's John ?'* Poor John was. ashamed, and did not come in till he heard himself called' for. I said to them, " How do you do, my old friends and fellow-servants ? I am glad to see you all." My master said, " I have given you a mistress, my lads, that is the joy of my heart : you see her goodness and condescension ! Let your respect to her be but answerable, and she'll be proportionably as great a blessing to you all, as she is to me." Harry said, " In the names of all your ser- vants, Sir, I bless your honour, and your good lady : we shall all study to deserve her ladyship's favour, as well as your honour's. So I gave every one five guineas, to rejoice, as I said, in my happiness. When I came to John, I said, " I saw you before, John : but I again tell you, I am glad to see you." He said, he was quite ashamed and con- founded. " Oh, forget every thing that's past', John : your dear good mas- ter will, and so will I. For God has wonderfully brought about all these things, by the very means I once thought most grievous. Let us there- fore look forward, and be only ashamed to commit faults for the time to come ; for they may not always be attended with like consequences." " Arthur," said my master, " 1 have brought you a mistress who is a great gardener. She'll shew you a new way to plant beans ; and never any body had such a hand at improving a sunflower, as she !" " O Sir," said 1 (but yet a little dashed) "my improvements in every thing are owing to you, I am sure!" They withdrew, blessing us both as the rest had done. 380 PAMELA. Mr. B. gives Mrs. B. his late Mother's Equipage. "... Then came in the postilion, and two helpers (for my master has both here, and at Lincolnshire, fine hunting horses ; and it is N the chief sport he takes delight in) as also the scullion-boy j and I said, " How do you all, and how dost do, Tommy ? I hope you're very good. Your dear master has ordered you something a-piece, in honour of me." And my master holding three fingers to me, I gave the postilion and helpers three guineas each, and the little boy two ; and bid him let his poor mother lay it out for him, for he must not spend it idly. Mr. Colbrand, Abraham, and Thomas, I had before presented at t'other house. When they were all gone but Mrs. Jervis, I said, "And now, dearest Sir, permit me, on my knees, thus to bless you, and pray for you. Oh ! may God crown you with length of days, and increase of honour ; may your happy, happy Pamela, by her grateful heart, appear always worthy in your dear eyes, though she cannot be so in her own, nor in those of any others !" " Mrs. Jervis," said my master, " you see the excellency of this sweet creature t And when I tell you, that the charms of her person, all lovely as she is, bind me not so strongly to her as the graces of her mind ; con- gratulate me, that my happiness is built on so stable a basis." " I do, most sincerely, Sir," said she : " this is a happy day to me !"- I stept into the library, while he was thus pouring out his kindness for me to Mrs Jervis ; and blessed God, on my knees, for the difference I now found to what I once knew in it. Mrs. Jervis had whispered him what I had done above, and he saw me upon my knees, unknown to roe ; but softly put to the door again, as he had opened it a little way. I said, not knowing he had seen me, " You have some charming pictures here, Sir." " Yes, my dear life, so I have ; but none equal to that which your piety affords me : And may the God you delight to serve, bless more and more my dear angel !" " Sir," said I, " you are all goodness !" " I hope," replied he, " after your sweet example, I shall be better and better." Do you think, my dear parents, there ever was so happy a creature as I ? To be sure it would be very ungrateful to think with uneasiness, or any thing but compassion, of poor Miss Sally Godfrey. He ordered Jonathan to let the evening be passed merrily, but wisely, as he said, with what every one liked, whether wine or October. He was pleased to lead me up stairs, and gave me possession of my lady's dressing-room and cabinet, and her fine repeating watch and equi- page ; in short, of a complete set of diamonds, that ware his good mother's ; as also of the two pair of diamond earrings, the two diamond rings and a diamond necklace, mentioned in his naughty articles, which her ladyship had intended for presents to Miss Tomlins, a rich heiress proposed for his wife, when he was just come from his travels ; but which PAMELA. 381 Choice of the bridal Dressrs. went off, after all was settled on both the friends' sides, because he ap- proved not her conversation, and she had, as he told his mother, too mas- culine an air : and he never would see her but once, though the lady liked him very well. He presented me also with her ladyship's books, pictures, linen, laces, &c. that were in her apartments ; and bid me call those apartments mine. O gi v me, my good God, humility and gratitude I SUNDAY NIGHT. This day, as matters could not be ready for our appearance at a better place, we staid at home; and my dear master employed himself in his library : and I was engaged pretty much, as I ought to be, in thankfulness, prayer, and meditation, in my newly presented closet : and 1 hope God will be pleased to give a blessing to me ; for I have the pleasure to think I am not puffed up with great alteration ; and yet am not wanting to look, upon all these favours and blessings in the light wherein I ought to receive them, both at the hands of Heaven, and my dear benefactor. We dined together with great pleasure, and I had, in every word and action, all the instances of kindness and affection, that the most indulged heart could wish. He said he would return to his closet agam ; and at five o'clock would come and take a walk with me in the garden : and so retired as soon as he had dined, and I went up to mine. About six, he came up to me, and said, " Now, my dear, I will attend you for a little walk in the garden :" and I gave him my hand with great pleasure. This garden is much better cultivated than the Lincolnshire one ; but that is larger, and has nobler walks in it ; and yet there is a pretty canal in this, and a fountain and cascade. We had a deal of sweet conversation as we walked ; and, after we had taken a turn round, I bent towards the little garden ; and coming near the summer-house, took the opportunity to slip from him, and just whipt up the steps of this once frightful place, and kneeled down, and said, " I bless thee, O God, for my escapes, and for thy mercies ! O let me always possess a grateful humble heart !" I went down again, joined him; and he hardly missed me. Several of the neighbouring gentry sent their compliments to him on his return, but not a word about his marriage ; particularly Mr. Arthur, Mr. Towers, Mr. Brooks, and Mr. Martin of the Grove. MONDAY. I had a good deal of employment in choosing patterns for my new slothes. He thought nothing too good ; but I thought every thing I saw was ; and he was so kind to pick out six of the richest, for me to choose three suits, saying we would furnish ourselves with more when in town. One was white flowered with silver most richly : and he was pleased tu 382 PAMELA. Mrs. B. seiMs a Message to her rarent". *ay, that, as I was a bride, I should appear in that the next Sunday. So we shall have, in two or three clays, nothing but mantua-makers and tailors, at work. Bless me ! what a chargeable, and what a worthless hussy I am to the dear gentleman ! But his fortune and station require a great deal of it ; and his value for me will not let him do less, than if he had married a fortune equal to his own ; and, as he says, it would be a reflection upon him if he did. So I doubt it will be as it is : for either way, the world will have something to say. He made me also choosf: some very fine laces, and linen : and has sent a message on purpose, with his orders, to hasten all down ; what can be done in town, as the millinery matters, &c. to be completed there, and sent by particular messengers, as done v All to be here, and finished by Saturday afternoon, without fail. I sent John this morning, with some more of my papers, and with the few he will give you separate. My desire is, that you will send me all the papers done with, that I may keep my word with Lady Davers ; to beg the continuance of your prayers and blessings ; to give me your answer about my dear benefactor's proposal of the Kentish farm ; to beg you to buy two suits of clothes, each, of the finest cloth for you, my dear father, and of a creditable silk for my dear mother; and good linen, and every thing answerable ; and that you will, as my best friend bid me say, come as soon as possible ; and he will send his chariot for you, when you tell John the day. Oh ! how I long to See you, my dear parents, and to share with you my felicities ! You will have, I'm sure, the goodness to go to all your creditors, which are chiefly those of my poor unhappy brothers, and get an account of all you are bound for ; and every one shall be paid to the utmost farthing, and interest besides, though some have been cruel and unrelenting But they are all entitled to their own, and shall Li thankfully paid. Now I think of it, John shall take my papers down to this place; to amuse you, instead of those you part with : and J will continue writing till I am settled, and you are determined ; and then I shall apply myself to the duties of the family, in erder to become as useful to my dear bene- factor, as my small abilities will let me. If you think a couple of guineas will be of use to Mrs. Mumford, who I doubt has not much aforehand, pray give them to her, from me (and I will return them to you) as for a pair of gloves on my nuptials : and look through your poor acquaintance and neighbours, and let me have a list of such honest industrious poor, as are true objects of charity, and have no other assistance ; particularly such as are blind, lame, or sickly ; with their several cases ; and also such poor families and housekeepers as are reduced bv misfortunes, as ours was, and where a number of children may keep them from rising to a state of tolerable comfort, and I will choose as well PAMELA. 333 Some neighbouring Gentlemen come to dine vritli Mr. B. v _ . . as I can : -for I long to begin with the quarterly benevolence my kind benefactor has bestowed upon me for such good purposes. I shall keep account of all these matters ; and Mr. Longman has furnished me with a vellum book of white paper, some sides of which I hope soon to fill with the names of proper objects ; and though my dear master has given me all this without account, yet shall he see (but nobody else) how I lay it out from quarter 1 to quarter ; and I will, if any be left, carry it on, like an accomptant, to the next quarter, and strike a balance four times a year, and a general balance at every year's end. I have written in it, Humble returns for divine mercies ; add locked it up safe in my newly-presented cabinet. I intend to let Lady Davers see no farther of my papers than to her own angry letter to her brother ; for I would riot have her see my reflec- tions upon it ; and she'll know, down to that place, all that is necessary for her curiosity, as to my sufferings, the stratagems against me, and the honest part I have been enabled to act ; when she has read them all, I hope she will be quite teconeiled : for she will see it is all God Almighty's doings ; and that a gentleman of his parts and knowledge was not to be drawn in by such a poor young body as me. 1 will detain John no longer. He will tell you to read this last part first, while he stays. And so, with my humble duty to you both, and my dear Mr. B.'s kind remembrance, I rest yvu ever dut'ful and gratefully kappa daughter. THURSDAY EVENING. HONOURED FATHER AND MOTHER, I will now proceed with my journal. On Tuesday morning my dear Sir rode out, and brought with him to dinner, Mr. Martin of the Grove, Mr. Arthur, Mr. Books, and one Mr. Chambers ; he told me, he had rode out too far to return to breakfast , but had brought some of his old acquaintance to dine with him. " Are you sorry for it, Pamela ?" said he. I remembered his lessons, and said, " No, sure, Sir; I cannot be angrs at any thing you ar? pleased to do ?" Said he, " You know Mr. Martin's character, and have severely censured him in one of your letters, as one of my brother rakes, and for his three lyings-in." He then told me how he came to bring them. Said he, " I met them _ all at Mr. Arthur's; alid his lady asked me if 1 was realty married ' I said, ' Yes, really.' ' And to whom ?' said Mr. Martin. ' Why,' replied I, bluntly, ' to my mother's waiting-maid.' They could not tell what to say to me, and looked upon one another. And 1 saw I had spoiled a jest from each. Mrs. Arthur ^said, ' You have indeed, Sir, a charming oreature, as ever I saw ; and she Las mighty good luck.' 384 PAMELA. Some neighbouring Gentlemen dine with Mr. B. * Ay,' said I, ' and so have I. But I shall say the less, because a man never did any thing of this nature, that he did not think he ought, if it were but in policy, to make the best of it^ ' Nay,' said Mr. Arthur, * if you have sinned, it is with your eyes open ; for you know the world as well as any gentleman of your years in it.' '* Why really, gentlemen,' said I, I should be glad to please all my friends ; but I can't expect, till they know my motives and inducements, that it will be so immediately. But I do assure you, I am exceedingly pleased myself; and that, you know, is most to the purpose.' " Said Mr. Brooks, ' 1 have heard my wife praise your spouse, that is, so much for person and beauty, that I wanted to see her of all things .' ' Why,' replied I, ' if you'll all go and take a dinner with me, you shall see her with all my heart. And, Mrs. Arthur, will you bear us company ?' ' No, indeed, Sir,' said she. ' What, I'll warrant, my wife will not be able to reconcile you to my mother's waiting-maid ; is not that it ? Tell truth, Mrs. Arthur.' ' Nay,' said she, ' 1 sha'n't be backward to pay your spouse a visit, in company of the neighbouring ladies ; but for one single woman to go, on such a sudden motion too, with so many gentle- men, is not right. But that need not hinder you, gentlemen.' So," said he, " the rest sent, that they should not dine at home ; and th';y and Mr. Chambers, a gentleman lately settled in these parts, one and all came with me : and so, my dear," concluded he, " when you make your appearance next Sunday, you're sure of a party in your favour : for all that see you must esteem you." He went to them ; a'nd when I came down to dinner, he was pleased to take me by the hand, at my entrance into the parlour, and said, " My dear, I have brought some of my good neighbours to dine with you." I said, " You are very good, Sir." " My dear, this gentleman is Mr. Chambers;" and so he presented every one to me ; and they saluted me, and wished us both joy. " I, for my part," said Mr. Brooks, " wish you joy most heartily. My wife told me of the beauties of your person ; but I did not think we bad such a flower in our county." " Sir," said I, " your lady is very partial to me ; and you are so polite a gentleman, that you will not contradict your good lady." " I'll assure you, Madam," returned he, " you have not hit the matter at all ; for we contradict one another twice or thrice a day. But it's odd if we are not agreed in so clear a case !" Said Mr. Martin, " Mr. Brooks says very true, Madam, in both respects" (meaning his wife's and his own contradiction to one another, as well as in my favour) "for," added he, " they have been married some years." As I had not the best opinion of this gentleman, nor his jest, I said, PAMELA. 385 The Company compliment Mrs. B. " I am almost sorry, Sir, for the gentleman's jest upon himself and his lady; bat I think it should have relieved him from a greater jest, your pleasant confirmation of it But still the reason you give that it may be so, I hope may be given that it is not so ; to wit, that they have been married some years." Said Mr. Arthur, " Mr. Martin, I think the lady.has very handsomely reproved you." " I think so too," said Mr. Chambers ; " and it was but a. very indifferent compliment to a bride." Said Mr. Martin, " Compli- ment or not, gentlemen, I have never seen a matrimony of long standing, that it was not so, little or much ; but I dare say it will never be so here." "To be sure, Sir,'' said I, " if it was, I rous< je the ungratefullest person in the world, because I am the most obliged person in it." " That notion," said Mr. Arthur, ** is so excellent, that it gives a moral certainty it never can." " Sir," said Mr. Brooks, to my dear master, softly, " You have a most accomplished lady, I do assure you, as well in her behaviour and wit, as in her person, call her what you please." " Why, my dear friend," said my master, ' I must tell you, as I have said before now, that her person made me her lover, but her mind made her my wife." The first course coming in, my dear Sir led me to my place ; and set Mr. Chambers, as the greatest stranger, at my right hand, and Mr. Brooks at my left. Mr. Arthur was pleased to observe, much to my advantage, on the ease and freedom with which I behaved myself, and helped them ; and said, he would bring his lady to be a witness, and a learner both, of my manner. I said, I should be proud of any honour Mrs. Arthur would vouchsafe to do me : and if once 1 could avail myself of his good lady's example, and those of the other gentlemen present, I should have the greater opinion of my fitness for the place I filled, at present, with much insufficiency. Mr. Arthur drank to my health and happiness, and said, " My wife told your spouse, Madam, you had very good luck in such a husband ; hut 1 now see who has the best of it." Said Mr. Brooks, " Come, let's make no compliments ; for the plain truth 13, our good neighbour's gene- rosity and judgment Lave met with so equal a match in his lady's beauty and merit, that I know not which has the best luck. But may you be both long happy together, say I !" And so he drank a glass of wine. My beat friend, who always delights to have me praised, seemed much pleased with our conversation : and said the kindest, tenderest, and most respectful thingB to me. Insomuch that the rough Mr. Martin said, " Did you ever think our good friend here, who used to ridicule matri- mony so much, would make so complaisant a husband? How long do von intend, Sir, that this shall hold?" " As lung as my good girl deserves b \i ID 386 PAMELA. " ' ii . ..- I l>e Messenger returns f-om Mrs. B.'s Parent*. it," said he. " I hope for ever. But," continued the kind gentleman, " you need not wonder I have changed my mind as to wedlock ; for I never expected to meet with one whose behaviour and sweetness of temper was so well adapted to make me happy." After dinner, and having drank good healths to each of their ladies, I withdrew ; and they sat and drank two bottles of claret a-piece, and were very merry ; and went away full of my praises, and vowing to bring their ladies to see me. John, having brought me your kind letter, my dear father, I told my good master, after his friends were gone, how grateful you received his generous intentions $* to the Kentish farm, and promised your best endeavours to serve him in that estate ; and that you hoped your industry and care would be so well employed in it, that you should be very little troublesome to him as to the liberal manner in which he intended to add to a provision, that of itself exceeded all you wished. He was very well pleased with your cheerful acceptance of it. I am glad your engagements in the world lie in so small a compass : as soon as you have gotten an account of them exactly, you will be pleased to send it me, with the list of the poor folks you are so kind to promise to procure me. I think, as my dear master is so generous, you should account nothing that is plain too good. Pray don't be afraid of laying out upon yourselves. He intends that you shall not, when you come, return to your old abode ; but stay with us till you set out for Kent ; so you must dispose of your- selves accordingly. And I hope, my dear father, you have quite left off all slavish business. As Farmer Jones has been kind to you, as I have heard you say, pray, when you take leave of them, present them with three guineas worth of good books ; such as a Family Bible, a Common Prayer, a Whole Duty of Man, or any other you think will be acceptable ; for they live a great way from church ; and in winter the ways from their farm thither are impassible. He has brought me my papers safe : and I will send them to Lady Davers the first opportunity, down to the place I mentioned in my last. My dear Mr. B. just now tells me, that he will carry me, in the morning, a little airing, about ten miles off, in his chariot and four, to breakfast at a farm-house, noted for a fine dairy, and where, now and then, the neighbouring gentry of both sexes, resort for that purpose. THURSDAY. We set out soon after six, accordingly ; and, driving pretty smartly, got at this truly neat house at half an hour after eight ; and I was much pleased with the neatness of the good woman, and her daughter and PAMELA. 387 Mr. and Mrs. B. visit the Dairy. maid ; he was so good as to say he would now and then take a turn with me to the same place, and on the same occasion, as I seemed to like it : for it woultkbe a pretty exercise, and procure us appetites to our break- fasts, as well as our return would to our dinners. But I find this was not, though a very good reason, the only one for which he gave me this agree- able airing : and I shall acquaint you. We were prettily received and entertained here, and an elegancy ran through every thing, persons as well as furniture, yet all plain. And my master said to the good housewife* " Do your young boarding-school ladies still at times continue their visits to you, Mrs. Dobson ?" " Yes, Sir," said she, " I expect three or foUr of them ever.- minute." " There is, my dear," said he, " within three miles of this farm, a very good boarding-school for ladies ; the governess of it keeps a chaise and pair, which is to be made a double chaise at pleasure : in summer, when the Misses perform their task to satisfaction, she favours them with an airing to this place, three or four at a time : and after breakfasting, they are carried back : this serves both for a reward, and for exercise ; and the Misses who have this favour are not a little proud of it ; and it brings them forward in their respective tasks." " A very good method, Sir," said I. And just as we were talking, the chaise came in with four Misses, all pretty much of a size, with a maid- servant. They passed by us into another little neat apartment through ours ; and made their honours very prettily. I went into the room to them, and asked questions about their work, and their lessons ; and what they had done to deserve such a fine airing and breakfasting ; and they all answered me very prettily. " And pray, little ladies," ;aid I, " what may I call your names ?" One was called Miss Burduff, one Miss Nugent, one Miss Booth, and the fourth Miss Goodwin. " 1 don't know which," said I, " is the prettiest ; but you are all best, my little dears ; and you have a very good governess to indulge you with such a fine airing, and such delicate cream, and bread and butter. I hope you think so too." My master came in, and I had no mistrust in the world ; he kissed each of them ; but looked more wistfully on Miss Goodwin, than on any of the others; but 1 thought nothing just then : had she been called Miss GodV frey, I had hit upon it in a trice. When he went from them, he said, " Which do you think the prettiest of those Misses ?" " Really, Sir, it is hard to sny : Miss Booth is a pretty brown girl, and has a fine eye; Miss Burduff has a great deal of sweetness in her countenance, but is not so regularly featured ; Miss Nugent is very fair; and Miss Goodwinjhas a fine black eye, and is, besides, 1 think, the genteelest shaped child : but they are all pretty.'' P) maid led them into the garden, to shew them the bee-hives ; inJ t> ri 2 Sen PAMELA. -:- ..I!,.", I. ., '' ' ' Miss Goodwin discovered. Miss Goodwin made a particular fine curtsey to my master : I said, " I believe Miss knows you, Sir ?" and taking her by the hand, I said, " Do you know this gentleman, my pretty dear ?" " Yes, Madam," said she ; " it is my own dear uncle." I clasped her in my arms : " Oh, why did you not tell me, Sir," said I, " that you had a niece among these little ladies ?" I kissed her, and away she tript after the others. ** But pray, Sir," said I, " how can this be ? You have no sister nor brother, but Lady Wavers. How can this be ?" He smiled: and then I said, O my dearest Sir, tell me now the truth. Does not this pretty Miss stand in a nearer relation to you than as a niece ? I know she does ! I know she does 1" And I embraced him as he stood. " 'Tis even so, my dear ; and you remember my sister's good-natured bint of Miss Sally Godfrey '." " I do well, Sir. But this is Miss Good- win." " Her mother chose that name for her," said he, " because she should not be called by her own." ** Well," said I, " excuse me, Sir; I must go and have a little prattle with her." " I'll send for her in again," replied he : and in she came in a moment. I took her in my arms, and said, " O my charming dear ! will yon love me ? WiU you let me be your aunt ?" " Yes, Madam, with all my heart; and I will love ym dearly: but I mustn't love my uncle." " Why so ?" said he. " Because you would not speak to me at first ! And because you would not let me call you uncle" (for it seems she was bid not, that I might not guess at her presently) " and yet," said the pretty dear, " I had not seen you a great while, so 1 hadn't !" " Well, Pamela, now can you allow me to love this little innocent?" " Allow you, Sir! you would be very barbarous if you did not; and I should be more so, if 1 did not further it all I could, and love the litU'e lamb myself, for your sake and for her own ; and in compassion to her poor mother, though unknown to me." And tears stood in my eyes. " Why, my love, are your words so kind, and your countenance so sad ?" I drew to the window from the child : and said, " Sad it is not, Sir; but 1 have a strange grief and pleasure mingled at once in my breast, on this occasion ; it is indeed a two-fold grief, and a two-fold pleasure." " As how, my dear?" said he. " Why, Sir, I cannot help being grieved for the poor mother of this sweet babe, to think, if she be living, she must call her chiefest delight her shame : if she be no more, she must have had sad remorse on her poor mind, on leaving the world, and her poor babe : in the second place, I grieve, that it must be thought a kindness to the dear little soul, not to let her know how near her dearest relation in the world is to her. Forgive me, dear Sir, I gay not this to reproach you in the least. And 1 have a two-fold cause of joy : first, That I have had the /W7m/W*v fi.,r>hH i . r/uJ/.,.. . PAMELA. 389 * --;-' ' Mrs. B. wishes to take Miss Goodwin home. grace to escape the like unhappiness with this poor gentlewoman : and next, That this discovery has given me an opportunity to shew the sin- cerity of my grateful affections for you, Sir, in the love I will always express to this dear child." Then I stept to her, and kissing her, said, " Join with me, my pretty love, to beg your dear uncle to let you come and live with your new aunt : indeed, my little precious, I'll love you dearly." " Will you, Sir," said the little charmer, " will you let me go and live with my aunt ?" " You are very good, my Pamela. And I have not once been deceived in the hopes my fond heart had entertained of your prudence." " But will you, Sir," said I, " grant me this faVour ? I shall most sincerely love the little charmer ; and all I am capable of doing for her, both by example and affection, shall most cordially be done. My dearest Sir, oblige me in this thing! I think already my heart is set upon it! What a sweet employment, and companionship shall I have !" " We'll talk of this some other time," replied he ; " but I must, in prudence, put some bounds to your amiable generosity. I had always intended to surprise you into this discovery; but my sister led the way to it, out of a poorness in her spite, I could not brook ; and though you have pleased me beyond expression, in your behaviour on this occasion, yet you have not gone much beyond my expectations ; for I have such a high opinion of you, 1 think nothing could have shaken it, but a contrary conduct on so tender a circumstance." " Well, Sir," said the dear little Miss, " then you will not let me go home with my aunt, will you ? I am sure she will love me." " When you break up next, my dear, if you are a good girl, you shall pay your new aunt a visit." She made a low curtsey ; " Thank you, Sir," answered ihe. " Ves, my dear," said I, ** and I will get you some fine things against the time. I would have brought you some now, had I known I should have seen my pretty love." " Thank you, Madam," returned she. " How old, Sir,'' said I, "is Miss.'" "Between six and seven," an- swered he. " Was she ever, Sir, at your house ?" " My sister carried her thither once, as a little relation of her lord's." " I remember, Sir," said I, " a little Miss ; and Mrs. Jervis and I took her to be a relation of Lord Davers." " My sister," said he, " knew the whole secret from the beginning; and it made her a g eat merit with nte, that she kept it from the know- ledge of my father, who was then living, and of my mother to her dying day; though she descended so low, in her rage, to hint the matter to you." The little Misses took their leaves soon after; and 1 know not how, 390 PAMELA. k , . . .' . , e. : * The History of Miss Godfrey. but I am strangely affected with this dear child. I wish I might have her home. It would be a great pleasure to have such a fine opportunity, obliged as I am, to shew my love for himself, in my fondness for this dear Miss. As we came home together in the chariot, he gave me the following particulars of this affair, additional to what he had before mentioned : That this lady was of a good family, and the flower of it : but that her mother was a person of great art and address, and not altogether so nice in the particular between himself and Miss as she ought to have been : that especially, when she found him unsettled and wild, and her daughter in more danger from him than he was from her, yet she encouraged their privacies, and even when she had reason to apprehend, from their being surprised together in a way not so creditable to the lady, that she was far from forbidding their private meetings ; k on the contrary, ihat on a certain time, she had set one, formerly her footman, and a half-pay officer, her relation, to watch an opportunity, and to frighten him into a marriage with the lady : that accordingly, after surprising hiin in her chamber, when just let in, they drew their swords, and threatened instantly to kill him, if he did not promise marriage on the spot ; and that they had a parson ready below stairs, as he found afterwards : he then suspected, from some strong circumstances, Miss was in the plot ; which so enraged him, with their menaces together, that he drew, and stood upon his defence ; and was so much in earnest, that the man he pushed into the arm, and disabled ; and pressing pretty forward upon the other, as he retreated, he rushed in upon him near the top of the stairs, pushed him down one pair, and he was much hurt by the fall : Not but that, he said, he might have paid for his rashness : the business of his antagonists was rather to frighten than to kill him : that, upon this, in the sight of the old lady, the parson she had provided, and her other daughters, he went out of their house, with bitter execrations against them all. That after this, designing to break off all correspondence with the whole family, and Miss too, she found means to engage him to give her a meet- ing at Woodstock, in order to clear herself: that, poor lady ! she was there obliged, naughty creature as he was 1 to make herself quite guilty of a worse fault, in order to clear herself of a lighter : that they often met at Godstow, Woodstock, and every neighbouring place to Oxford, where he was then studying, as it proved, guilty lessons, instead of improving ones ; till, at last, the effect of their frequent interviews grew too obvious to be concealed ; that thj young lady then, not fit to be seen, for the credit of the family, was confined, and all manner of means were used, to induce him to marry her: that, finding nothing would do, they at last resolved to complain to his father and mother j but that he made his .sister ac- PAMELA. 391 The History of Miss Godfrey. quainted with the matter, who then happened to be at home ; and by her management and spirit, their intentions of that sort were frustrated ; and, seeing no hopes, they agreed to Lady Davers's proposals, and sent poor Miss down to Marlborough, where, at her expense, which he repaid her, she was provided for, and privately lay-in ; that Lady Davers took upon herself the care of the little one, till fit to be put to the boarding- school, where it now is : and that he had settled upon the dear little Miss such a sum of money, as the interest of it would handsomely provide for her; and the principal would be a tolerable fortune, fit for a gentle-, woman, when she came to be marriageable. " This, my dear," said he, " is the story in brief. And I do assure you, Pamela," added he, " I am far from making a boast of, or taking a pride in this affair : but since it has happened, I can't say but I wish the poor child to live, and be happy : and I must endeavour to make her so." " Sir," said I, " to be sure you should ; and I shall take a very great pride to contribute to the dear little soul's felicity, if you will permit me to have her home. But does Miss know any thing who are her father and mother ?" I wanted him to say if the poor hidy was living or dead. " No," answered he. " Her governess has been told, by my sister, that she is the daughter of a gentleman, and his lady, who are related to Lord Davers, and now live in Jamaica; she calls me uncle, only because I am brother to Lady Davers, whom she calls aunt, and who is very fond of her, as is also my lord, who knows the whole matter; they have her, at all her little school recesses, at their house, and are very kind to her. I believe the truth of the matter is little known or suspected ; for as her mother is of no mean family, her friends try to keep it secret as much as I : and Lady Davers, till her wrath boiled over, t'other day, has managed the matter very dexterously and kindly." The words, mother it of so mean family, gave me not to doubt the poor lady was living. And 1 said, " But how, Sir, can the dear Miss's poor mother be content to deny herself the enjoyment of so sweet a child '." " Ah, Pamela," replied he, " now you come in ; I see you want to know what's become of the poor mother. 'Tis natural enough ; hut I was willing to see how the little suspense would operate upon you." Dear Sir," said I. " Nay," replied he, " 'tis very natural, my dear! I think vou have hail gnat patience, and arc come at this question so fairly, you deserve to be answered. *' You must know then, there is some foundation for saying, that her mother at least lives in Jamaica ; for there s!: does livt, and very happily too. For I must observe, that she suffered so much in child-bed, nobody expected her life ; and this, when she was up, made such an impression upon her, that she dreaded nothing so much as the thoughts of returning i) i- 1 399 PAMELA. The History of MUs Godfrey. to her former fault ; and, to say the truth, I had intended to make her a visit as soon as her month was well up. So, unknown to me, she engaged herself to goto Jamaica, with two young ladies, born there, and returning to their friends, after having been four years in England for their educa- tion : and, recommending to me, by a very moving letter, her little baby, and that I would not suffer it to be called by her name, but Goodwin, that her shame might be the less known, for her's and her family's sake ; she got her friends to assign her five hundred pounds in full of all demands upon her family, and went up to London, embarked with her companions, at Gravesend, and sailed to Jamaica; where she is since well and hnppily married, passing to her husband for a young widow, with one daughter, which her husband's friends take care of, and provide for. And so you see, Pamela, that in the whole story, on both sides, the truth is as much pre- served as possible." '* Poor lady 1" said I : " how her story moves me ! I am glad she is so happy at last." '< And, my dear," said he, '* are you not glad she is so far off too ?" " As to that, Sir, I cannot be sorry, to be sure, as she is so happy ; which she could not have been here. For, Sir, 1 doubt you would have proceeded with your temptations, ifhe had not gone ; and it shewed her so much in earnest to be good, that she could leave her native coun. try, her relations, you, whom she so well loved, her dear baby, and try * new fortune, in a new world, among strangers, and hazard the seas ; and all to preserve herself from further guiltiness ! Indeed, Sir," said I, " I bleed for what her distresses must be, in this case ; I am grieved for her poor mind's remorse, through her child-bed terrors, which could have so grpat an effect ; and I honour her resolution. I should rank such a returning dear lady in the class of those who are most virtuous: and doubt not God Almighty's mercies to her, and that her present happiness" is the result of his gracious Providence, blessing her penitence and refor- mation. But, Sir," said I, " did you not once see the poor lady, after her lying-in ?" " I did not believe her so much in earnest, and I went down to Marl- borough, and heard she was gone from thence to Bahie. I went there, but she was gone to a relation's at Reading. Thither I went, and heard she was gone to Oxford. I followed ; and there she was, but I could not see her. " She at last received a letter from me, begging a meeting ; for I found her departure with the ladies resolved on, and that she was with her friends only to take leave of them, and receive her agreed-on portion s-ha -appointed the Saturday following, and that was Wednesday, to give me a meeting at the old place, at Woodstock. " The:. - . I thought I was sure of her, and doubted not I should spoil her PAMELA. 393 The Hutory of Miss C.odfrry. intended voyage. I set out on Thursday to Gloucester, on a party of pleasure; and on Saturday to Woodstock : but when I came thither, I found a letter instead of my lady; it was to beg my pardon for deceiving me ; expressing her concern for her past fault, her affection to me, and the apprehension she had of being unable to keep her good resolves, if she met me ; that she had set out the Thursday for her embarkation, fear- ing nothing else could save her; and had appointed this meeting on Saturday, at the place of her former guilt, that I might be suitably- impressed upon the occasion, and pity and allow for her ; and that she might get three or four days start of me, and be quite out of my reach. She recommended again, as upon the spot where the poor little one owed its being, my tenderness to it for her sake ; that was all she had to re- quest, she said ; but would not forget to pray for me in all her own dan- gers, and in every difficulty she was going to encounter." I wept at this moving tale : " And did not this make a deep impres- sion upon you, Sir ?" said I : " surely, such an affecting lesson as this must, on the very guilty spot too (I admire the dear lady's pious con- trivance !) One would have thought, Sir, it was enough to reclaim you for ever ! All your naughty purposes, I doubt not, were quite changed !" *' Why, my dear, I wa much moved, you may be sure, when I came to reflect : but at first, I was so assured of being a successful tempter, and spoiling her voyage, that I was vexed, and much out of humour ; but, on reflection, I was quite overcome with this instance of her prudence, peni- tence, and resolution ; and more admired her than I ever had done. Yet I could not bear she should so escape me neither ; so much overcome me, as it were, in a heroical bravery ; and I hastened away, got a bill of cre- dit of Lord Davers, upon his banker in London, for five hundred pounds ; and set out thither, having called at Oxford, and got what light I could, as to where I might hear of her. " On arriving in town, which was not till Monday morning, I went to Crosby Square, where the friends of the two ladies lived. She had set out in the flying coach on Tuesday, got to the two ladies that very ni^ht, and on Saturday set out, with them, for Gravesend, near the time I expected her at Woodstock. " You may suppose, I was much affected with this. However, I got. my bill of credit converted into money ; and set out with my servant on* Monday, and reached Gravesend that night ; where I foui;d that she and the two ladies had ;ronc on board from the inn I put up at, in the morn- ing: and the ship waited only for the wind, which then was turning about in its favour. " I went directly on hoard, and asked for Mrs. Godfrey. But judge, my dear, her surprise and confusion, on seeing uie. She had nearly fainted 394 PAMELA. The History of Miss Godfrey. away. I offered any money to put off the sailing till next day, but it was not complied with ; and fain would I have got her on shore, and promised to attend her, if she would go over land, to any part of England the ship might touch at. But she was immoveable. Every one concluded me her humble servant, and were touched at the moving interview ; the young ladies, and their female attendants especially. With great difficulty, upon my solemn assurances of honour, she trusted herself with me in one of the cabins ; and there I entreated her to quit her purpose ; but in vain ; she said, I had made her quite unhappy by this interview ! She had difficulties enough upon her mind before ; but now I had embittered all her voyage, and given her the deepest distress. " I could prevail upon her but for one favour, and that with the greatest reluctance ; which was, to accept of the five hundred pounds as a present from me ; and to draw upon me for a greater sum, as one who had her effects in my hands, when she arrived, if she found it convenient for her. But she would not promise even to correspond with me, and was deter- mined on going ; I believe, if 1 would have married her, which yet I had not in my head, she would not have been diverted from her purpose." " But how, Sir," said I, *' did you part?" l< I would have sailed with her, and been landed at the first port in England or Ireland, I cared not which, they put in at ; but she was too full of apprehensions to admit it : and the rough fellow of a master, captain they called him, would not stay a moment, the wind and tide being quite fair ; and was very urgent with me to go ashore, or to go the voyage ; and being impetuous in my temper, spoilt, you know, my dear, by my mother, and not used to control, I -ihought it very strange, that wind or tide, or any thing else, should be preferred to me and my money : but so it was ; I was forced to go ; and so took leave of the ladies, and the other passengers, wished them a good voyage; gave five guineas among the ship's crew, to be good to the ladies, and took such a leave as you may better imagine than I express. She recom- mended, once more to me, the dear guest, as she called her, the ladies being present ; and thanked me for all these instances of my regard, which, she said, would leave a strong impression on her mind; and, throw- ing her arms about my neck ; we took such a leave as affected every one present, men, as well as ladies. " So with a truly heavy heart, I went down the ship's side, to my boat ; and stood up in it, looking ai her, as long as I tould see her, and she at me, with her handkerchief at her yes ; and then I gazed at the ship, till and after I had landed, as long as I could discern the least appearance of it ; for she was under sail in a manner, when I left her; and so I returned highly disturbed to my inn. " I went to bed, but rested not ; returned to London the next day, and PAMELA. 335 Conclusion of the History of Miss Godfrey. set out again for the country. So much for poor Sally Godfrey. She sends, by all opportunities, with the knowledge of her husband, to learn how her child by her first husband does ; and has the satisfaction to know she is happily provided for. Half a year ago, her spouse sent a little negro boy, about ten years old, as a present to wait upon her ; but he was taken iil of the small pox, and died in a month after he was landed." " Sure, Sir," said I, " your generous mind must have been long affected with this melancholy case, and all its circumstances." " It hung upon me some time," said he ; " but I was full of spirits and inconsideration. I went soon after to travel ; a hundred new objects danced before my eyes, and kept reflection from me. And you see, I had five or six years afterwards, and even before that, so thoroughly lost all the impressions you talk of, that I doubted not to make my Pamela change her name, without either act of parliament or wedlock, and be Sally Godfrey the second." " O you dear naughty man !" said I, " this seems but too true ! But I bless God, that it is not so ! I bless God for your reformation, and that for your own dear sake as well as mine !" " Well, my dear," said he, " and I bless God for it too ! I do most sincerely ! 'Tis my greater pleasure, because I have, as I hope, seen my error so early ; and that with such a stock of youth, and apparent health on my side, I can truly abhor my past liberties, and pity poor Sally God- frey, from the same motives that I admire my Pamela's virtues ; and resolve to make myself as worthy of them as possible : and 1 will hope, my dear, your prayers for my pardon, and my perseverance, will be of no small efficacy on this occasion." These agreeable reflections, on this melancholy but instructive story. Drought us in view of his own house ; and we alighted, and walked in the garden till dinner was ready. And now we are so busy preparing for our appearance, that I shall hardly have time to write till that be over. Monday morning. Yesterday we set out, attended by John, Abraham, Benjamin, and Isaac, in fine new liveries, in th best chariot, which had been cleaned, lined, and new harnessed ; so that it looked like a quite new one : but I had no arms to quarter with my dear lord and masters ; though he jocu- larly, upon my noticing my obscurity, said, that he had a good mind to ,have the olive-branch, which would allude to his hopes, quartered for mine. I was dressed in the suit of white, (lowered with silver, a rich head-dress, and the diamond necklace, earrings, &c. I mentioned before. and my dear Sir. in a fine laced silk waistcoat, of blue Paduasoy, and hi* coat a pearl-coloured fine cloth, with gold buttons and button-holes, and lined with white silk. I said, I was too fine, and would have laid andc S96 PAMELA. . ' ' , Mr. ami Mrs. B. first attend Church. some of the jewels ; but he said, it would be thought a slight tome from him, as his wife ; and though I apprehended that people might talk as it was, yet he had rather they should say any thing, than that I was not put upon an equal foot, as his wife, with any lady he might have married. It seems the neighbouring' gentry had expected us ; and there was a great congregation ; for (against my wish) we were a little late ; so that, as we walked up the church to his seat, we had many gazers and whis- perers ; but my dear master behaved with so intrepid an air, and was so eheerftal and complaisant to me, that he did credit to his kind choice, instead of shewing as if he was ashamed of it ; and I was resolved to busy my mind entirely with the duties of the day : my intentness on that occasion, and my thankfulness to God, for his unspeakable mercies to me, so took up my thoughts, I was much less concerned than I should otherwise have been, at the gazings and whisperings of the congregation, whose eyes were all turned to our seat. When the sermon was ended, we staid the longer for the church to be pretty empty ; but we found great numbers at the doors, and in the porch ; and I had the pleasure of hearing many commendations, as well of my person as my dress and behaviour, and not one reflection, or mark of dis- respect. Mr. Martin, who is single, Mr. Chambers, Mr. Arthur, and Mr. Brooks, with their families, were all there : and the four gentleman came up to us, before we went into the chariot, and in a very kind and respect- ful manner, complimented us both ; Mrs. Arthur and Mrs. Brooks were so kind as to wish me joy ; and Mrs. Brooks said, " You sent Mr. Brooks, Madam, home t'other day, quite charmed, with a manner which you have convinced a thousand persons this day is natural to you." " You do me great honour, Madam," replied I. " Such a good lady's approbation must make me too sensible of my happiness." My dear mas- ter handed me into the chariot, and stood talking to Sir Thomas Atkyns (who was making him abundance of compliments, and is a very ceremo- nious gentleman, a little to extreme that way) I believe to familiarize me to the gazers, which concerned me a little ; for I was dashed to hear the praises of the country people, and see them crowd about the chariot. Several poor people begged my charity ; and I beckoned John, and said, " Divide, in the further cburch-porch, that money to the poor, and let them come to-morrow morning to me, and 1 will give them something more, if they don't importune rc:: now." So I gave them ail the silver J had, between twenty and thirty shillings ; and this drew away from me their clamorous prayers for charity. Mr. Martin came up to me on the other side, and leaned on the very door, while my mater was talking to Sir Thomas, whom he could not PAMELA. 397 - ^-^ . .. Compliments of the Congregation. leave, and said, " By all that's good, you have charmed the whole con- gregation. Not a soul but is full of your praises. My neighbour knew, better than any body could tell him, how to choose for himself. Why," said he, " the dean himself looked more upon you than his book." ** O Sir," said I, ** you are very encouraging to a weak mind !" " I vow," said he, ".1 say no more than is truth : I'd marry to-morrow, if I were sure of a person of but one-half of your merit. You are, and 'tis not my way to praise too much, an ornament to your sex, an honour to your spouse, and a credit to religion. Every body is saying so ; for you have by your piety edified the whole church." As he had done speaking, the dean himself complimented me, that the behaviour Of so good a lady would be very edifying to his congregation, and encouraging to himself. " Sir," said I, " you are very kind : I hope I shall not behave unworthy of the good instructions I shall have the plea- sure to receive from so worthy a divine." He bowed, and went on. Sir Thomas then applied to me, my master stepping into the chariot, and said, " 1 beg pardon, Madam, for detaining your good spouse : but 1 have been saying, he is the happiest man in the world." I bowed to him ; but could have wished him further, to make me sit so in the notice of every one : which, for all I could do, dashed me not a little. Mr. Martin said to my master, " If you'll come to church every Sunday, with your {'harming lady, I will never absent myself, and she'll give a good example to all the neighbourhood." " O my dear Sir," said I, " you know not how much I am obliged to Mr. Martin. He has, by his kind expressions, made me dare to look up with pleasure and gratitiTde." Said my master, " My dear love, I am very much obliged, as well as you, to my good friend, Mr. Martin." And he said to him, " We will constantly go to church, and to every other place, where we can have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Martin." " Mr. Martin said, " 'Gad Sir, you are a happy man, and I think your lady's example has made you more polite and handsome too, than I ever knew you before, though we never thought you unpolite neither." So he bowed and went to his own chariot ; and as we drove away, the people kindly blessed us, and cafled us a charming pair. As I have no other pride, 1 hope in repeating these things, than in the countenance the general approbation gives to my dear muster, for his stooping so low, you will excuse me for it. In the afternoon we went again to church, and a little early, at my request; but it was quite full, and soon after even crowded: so much dues novelty (the more's the pity!) attract the eyes ol mankind. Mr. Martin cams in, after us, and made up io our scats ; and s;tid, " If you please, my dear friend, I will sit with \ou this aft em > n." " N itli all my 398 PAMELA. Compliments of the Congregation. heart," said my master. I was sorry for it ; but was resolved my duty should not be made second to bashfulness, or any other consideration : and when divine service began, I withdrew to the further end of the pew, and left the gentlemen in the front ; antl they both behaved quite suitably to the occasion. I mention this the rather, because Mr. Martin was not very noted for coming to church, or attention when there. The dean preached again, though not usual, out of compliment to us : and an excellent sermon he made on the relative duties of Christianity ; and took my particular attention, w it his fine observations on the subject. Mr. Martin addressed himself twice or thrice to me, during the sermon j but I was so wholly engrossed with hearkening to the good preacher, that he forbore interrupting me ; yet I, according to the lesson formerly given me, observed to him a cheerful and obliging behaviour, as one of his friends and intimates. My master asked him to supper ; and he said, " I am so taken with your lady, that you must not encourage me too much ; for I shall be always with you, if you do." He was pleased to say, " You cannot favour us with too much of your company ; and as I left you in the lurch in your single estate, I think you will do well to oblige us as much as you can ; and who knows but my happiness may reform another rake?"" Who knows?" said Mi". Martin; "why, I know for f am more than half reformed already." At the chariot-door, Mrs. Arthur, Mrs. Brooks, and Mrs. Chambers, were brought to me, by their respective spouses ; and presently the witty Lady Towers joined them. Mrs. Arthur said she wished me joy ; and that all the good ladies, my neighbours, would meet and make me a visit. " This," said I, " will be an honour I can never enough acknowledge. It will be very kind so to countenance a person^who will always study to deserve your favour, by the most respectful behaviour." Lady Towers said, " My dear neighbour, you want no countenance, your own merit is sufficient. I had a slight cold, that kept me at home in the morning ; but I heard you so much talked of, and praised, I resolved not to stay away inthe afternoon : and I join in the joy every oue gives you." She turned to my master, and said, " You are a sly thief, as 1 always thought you. Where have you stolen this lady ? Anil now, how barbarous is it, thus unawares, in a manner, to bring her here upon ur, to mortify and eclipse us all." " You are very kin 1, Madam," said he, ' that you and all my w >nhy neighbours see with my ejes. But h:id I not known she had so much excellency of mind and behaviour, as would strike every body in her favour at first sight, I should not have dared to class her with such of my worthy neighbours, as now so kindly congratulate us both." " I own," said she softly, " I was one of your eensurers ; but I never liked you so well in luy life, as for this action, now J ice how capable your PAMELA. 399 Compliments of the Congregation. bride is of giving distinction to any condition." And, coming to me, " My dear neighbour," said she, " excuse me for having but in my thoughts the remembrance that I have seen you formerly , when, by your sweet air, and easy deportment, you so much surpass us all, and give credit to your present happy condition." " Dear good Madam," said I, ** how shall I suitably return my acknow- ledgments ! But it will never be a pain to me to look back upon my for- mer days, now I have the kind allowance and example of so many worthy ladies to support me in the honours to which the most generous of meu hath raised me." " Sweetly said !" she was pleased to say. " If I was in another place, 1 would kiss you for that answer. O happy Mr. B. !" said she to my mas- ter, " what reputation have you not brought upon your judgment ! I won't be long before 1 see you, I'll assure you, if I come by myself." " That shall be your own fault, Madam," said Mrs. Brooks, "if you do." So they took leave; and I gave my hand to my dear master, and said, " How happy have you made me, generous Sir !" The dean, who was jast come up, heard me, and said, " And how happy you have made your spouse, I'll venture to pronounce, is hard to say, from what I observe from you both." I curtseyed, and Mushed, not thinking any body heard me. And my master telling him he should be glad of the honour of a visit from him, he said he would pay his respects to us soon, and bring his wife and daughter to attend me. I said that was doubly kind ; and I should be very proud of cultivating so worthy an acquaintance. I thanked him for his fine discourse ; and he thanked me for my attention, which he called exemplary : so my dear master handed me into the chariot; and we went home, both happy, and both pleased, thank God ! Mr. Martin came in the evening, with his friend Mr. Dormer ; and entertained us with the favourable opinion, he said, every one had of me., and of the choice my good benefactor had ruade. This morning the poor came, according to my imitation ; and 1 sent twenty five away with glad hearts. They were not above twelve cr fourteen on Sunday, that John divided the silver among, which I gave him ; but others got hold of the matter, and made up to the above number. My generous master has given me a most considerate, hut yet, from tli? nature of it, melancholy instance of his great regard for my unworihiness, which I never could have wished, hoped for, or even thought of. He took a walk with me, after breakfast, into the garden ; and a shower falling, he led me, for shelter, into the little summer-house, in the pri- vate garden, where he formerly gave me appreheru ion and, sitting dow:i 400 PAMELA. Mr. B. provided i'eak ; and at last relieved my mind by a violent fit of weeping : and could only say, clasping my arms around the dear generous man, " How shall I support this ! So very cruel, yet so very kind !" " Don't my dear," said he, " be concerned at what gives me pleasure. I am not the nearer my end, for having made this disposition ; but I think the putting off these material points, when accidents every day hap- pen, and life so precarious, is a most inexcusable thing. There are many important rioints to be thought of, when life is drawing to its utmost verge ; and the mind may be so agitated' and unfit, that it is a most sad thing to defer, to that time, any of those concerns, which more especially require a considerate and composed frame of temper, and perfect health and vigour, to give directions about them. My poor friend, Mr. Carlton, who died in my arms so lately, and had a mind disturbed by Worldly considerations on one side, a weakness of body, through the violence of kls dittempvr, on another, and the concerns of still as* much more moment as the soul is to the body, on a third, marie sc great an impression on me then, that 1 was the more impatient to conie to this house, where were most of my writings, in order to make the dispositions I have now per- fected : and since it is grievous to my dear girl, I Will think myself of PAMELA. 401 Mr. B. withes Mrs. B. not to marry Mr. Williams in case of his Death. such trustees as shall be most for her benefit. I have only therefore to assure you, my dear, that in this instance, as I will do in any other I can think of, I have studied to make you quite easy, free, and independent. And as I shall avoid all occasions for the future, which may discompose -you, I have but one request to make : which is, that if it should please God, for my sins, to separate me from my dearest Pamela, you will only resolve not to- marry one person : for I would not be such a Herod, as to restrain you from a change of condition with any other, however reluctantly I may think of any other person succeeding me in your esteem. I could not answer, and thought my heart would have burst. And he continued : " To conclude at once a subject so grievous to you, I will tell you, my Pamela, that this person is Mr. Williams ; and my motive for this request is wholly owing to my niceness, and to no dislike I have for him, or apprehension that it is. likely to be so : but methinks, it would reflect a little upon my Pamela, to give way to such a conduct, as if she had married a man for his estate, when she had rather have had another, had it not been for that ; and now, the world will say, she is at liberty to pursue her inclination, the parson is the man ! And I cannot bear even the most distant apprehension, that I had not the preference with you of any man living, let me have been what I would, as I have shewn my dear life, that I preferred her to all her sex, of whatever degree." I could not speak, might 1 have had the world : and he took me in his arms, and said, " I have now spoken all my mind, and expect no answer; and I see you too much moved to give me one. Only forgive me, since I have told you my motive: which as much affects your reputation as my niceness ; and offer not an answer ; only say, you forgive me. And I hope I have not one discomposing thing to say to my dearest for the rest of my life, which, I pray God, for both our sakts, to lengthen for many happy years." Grief still choked up the passage of my words ; and he said, " The shower is over, my dear . let us walk out again." He led me out, and 1 would have spoken, but he said, " I will not hear my dear creature say any thing! To hearken to your assurance of complying with my request, would look as if I doubted you, and wanted it. I needed only to speak my mind, to be observed by you ; and I shall never more think on the subject, if you do not remind me of it." He then most sweetly changed the discourse. " Don't you with pleasure, my dear, take in the delightful fragrance that this sweet shower has given to these banks of flowers ? Your pre- sence is so enlivening to me, I could almost fancy what we owe to the shower is owing to that ; and all Nature, methinks, blooms around me a 14 f. k 403 PAMELA. Effusion oi' Mr. B.'s poetical Fancy. when I have my Pamela by my side. You are a poetess, my dear ; and 1 trill give you a few lines, made by me on such an occasion as this, the presence of a sweet companion, and the fresh verdure, that, after a shower succeeding a long drought, shewed itself through all vegetable nature." And then, in a sweet and easy accent (with his dear arms about me as he walked) he sung me the following verses ; of which he has favoured me with a copy : AH Nature blooms when you appear ; The fields their richest liv'ries wear ; Oaks, elms, and pines, blest with your view, Shoot out fresh greens, aad bud anew. The varying seasons you supply ; And when you're gone, they fade and die. Sweet philomel, in mournful strains, To you appeals, to you complains, The tow'ring lark, on rising wing, Warbles to you, your praise does sing : He cuts the yielding air and flies To heav'n, to type your future joys. The purple violet, damask rose, Each to delight your senses blows j The lilies ope as you appear ; And all the beauties of the year Diffuse their odfrurs at your feet, Who give to every flow'r its sweet. For flow'rs and women are ally'd ; Both, Nature's glory and her pride ! Of every fragrant sweet possest, They bloom but for the fair-one's breast ; And to the swelling bosom borne, Each other mutually adorn. Thus sweetly did he palliate the woes, which his generous actions, mixed with the solemness of the occasion, and his strange request, had occasioned. He would penr.it me only to say, that 1 was not displeased with him ! " Displeased with you, dearest Sir!" said I : " let me thus testify ray obligations, and the force all your commands shall have upon me." And I took the liberty to clasp my arms about his neck, and kissed him. But yet my mind was pained at times, and has been to this hour. God PAMELA. 40S! The neighbouring Gentry meet to congratulate Mr. and Mrs. B. grant that I may never see the dreadful moment that shall shut up the precious life of this excellently generous benefactor of mine ! And but I cannot bear to suppose I cannot say more on such a deep subject. Oh ! what a poor thing is human life in its best enjoyments '. subjected to imaginary evils, when it has no real ones to disturb it ; and can be made as effectually unhappy by its apprehensions of remote contingencies, as If struggling with the pangs of a present distress ! This, duly reflected upon, methinks, should convince every one, that this world is not a place for the immortal mind to be confined to ; and that there must be a hereafter, where the whole soul shall be satisfied. But I shall get out of my depth ; my shallow mind cannot comprehend, as it ought, these weighty subjects : let me only therefore pray, that, after having made a grateful use of God's mercies here, I may, with my dear benefactor, rejoice in that happy state, where is no mixture, no unsatisfiedness ; and where all is joy, peace, and love, for evermore ! I said, at supper, " The charming taste, you gave me, Sir, of your poetical fancy, makes me sure you have more favours of this kind to delight me with ; and I beg to be indulged with them?" " Hitherto," said he, " my life has been too much a life of gaiety and action to be busied so innocently. Some little essays I have now and then attempted ; but very few completed. Indeed I had not patience nor attention enough to hold me long to any one thing. Perhaps I may occasionally shew you what 1 have essayed. But I never could please myself in this way." We had yesterday the company of almost all the neighbouring gentle- men and their ladies, who, by appointment with one another, met to congratulate our happiness. Nothing could be more obliging, more free and affectionate, than the ladies ; nothing more polite than the gentlemen. All was performed (for they came to supper) with decency and order, and nuch to every one's satisfaction ; which was principally owing to good Mrs. Jervis's care and skill ; who is an excellent manager. For my part, I was dressed out only to be admired, as it seems ; and truly, had I not known that I did not make myself, as you, my dear father once hinted to me, and if I had had the vanity to think as well of myself, as the good company did, 1 might possibly have been proud. But I know, as my Lady Davcrs said, though in angtr, yet in truth, that I am but a poor bit of painted dirt. All that I value myself upon is, that God has raised me to a condition to be useful, in my generation, to better persons than myself. This is, and I hope will be, :ill my pride. For what was I of myself ? All the good I can do, is but a poor third hind good; for my dearest master himself is but the setond hand ; God, the .AJ1- ie2 404 PAMELA. Clcse of the Journal. gracious, the All-good, the All-bountiful, the All-mighty, the All-merciful God, is the first : to him, therefore, be all the glory ! As I expect the unspeakable happiness, my ever dear and honoured parents, of enjoying you both under this roof so soon (and pray let it be very soon) I will not enter into the particulars of the last agreeable even- ing : for I shall have a thousand things, as well as that, to talk to you upon. I fear you will be tired with my prattle when I see you ! I am to return these visits singly ; and there were eight ladies here of different families. Dear heart ! I shall find enough to do ! I doubt my time will not be so well filled up as I once promised my dear master. But he is pleased, cheerful, kind, affectionate ! Oh, what a happy creature am I May I be always thankful to God, and grateful to him ! When all these tumultuous visitings are over, I shall have my mind, I hope, subside into a family calm, that I may make myself a little useful to the household of my dear master ; or else I shall be an unprofitable servant indeed '. Lady Davers has sent her compliments to us both, very affectionately : and her lord's good wishes and congratulations : she desired my writings per bearer : and says, she will herself return them to me, with thanks, when she has read them ; and she and her lord will come and be my guests (that was her particular kind word) for a fortnight. I have now but one thing to wish for, and then, methinks, I shall be all ecstasy ; and that is, your presence, both of you, and your blessings ; which I hope you will bestow upon me every morning and night, till you are settled in the happy manner my dear Mr. B. has intended. Methinks I want sadly your list of the honest and worthy poor : for the money lies by me, and brings me no interest. You see I am become a mere usurer ; and want to make use upon use : and yet, when I have done all, I cannot do so much as I ought. God forgive my imperfections! I tell my dear spouse, I want another dairy-house visit. If he won't at present permit it, 1 shall, please God to spare us, tease him like any over- indulged wife, if, as the dear charmer grows older, he won't let me have the pleasure of forming her tender mind, as well as I am able, lest, poor little 6oul ! she fall into such snares as her unhappy dear mother fell into. I am providing a power of pretty things for her, against I see her next, that I may make her love me if Lean. Just now 1 have the blessed news, you will set out hither on Tuesday morning. The chariot shall be with you without fail. God give us a happy meeting 1 Oh, how I long for it ! Forgive your impatient daughter, who sends this to amuse you on your journey ; and desires to be ever most dutifully yours. PAMELA. 405 Applications of tbe foregoing Incidents. / >s, *^ s Here end, at p resent, the, letters of Pamela to her parents. They arrived at their daughter's house on the Tuesday evening, and were received by her with the utmost joy and duty ; and with great goodness and complaisance by Mr. B. And having resided there till every thing was put in order at the Kentish estate, they were carried down thither, by himself, and their daughter, and put in possession of the pretty farm designed for them. The reader will here indulge us in a few brief observations, which natu- rally result from the story and characters ; and which will serve as so many applications of its most material incidents to the minds of the Youth of both Sexes. First, then, in the character of the Gentleman may be seen that of a fashionable libertine, who allowed himself in the free indulgence of his passions, especially as to the fair sex ; and found himself supported in his daring attempts by an affluent fortune in possession, a persoilal bravery, as it is called, rather to give than take offence, and an imperious will ; yet, as he betimes sees his errors, and reforms in the bloom of youth, an edify- ing lesson may be drawn from it, for the use of such as are born to large fortunes ; and who may be taught, by his example, the inexpressible difference between the hazards and remorse attending a profligate life, and the pleasures flowing from virtuous love, and benevolent actions. In the character of Lady Davers, let the proud and the high-born see the deformity of unreasonable passion, and how weak and ridiculous such persons must appear, who suffer themselves, as is usually the case, to be hurried from the height of violence to the most abject submission ; and subject themselves to be outdone by the humble virtue they so much despise. Let good clergymen, in Mr. Williams, see, that whatever displeasure the doing their duty may give, for a time, to their proud patrons, Provi- dence will, at last, reward their piety, and turn their distresses to triumph ; and make them even more valued for a conduct that gave offence while the violence of passion lasted, than if they had meanly stooped to flatter or soothe the vice3 of the great. In the examples of good old Andrews and his Wife, let those who are reduced to a low estate see, that Providence never fails to reward honesty and integrity : and that God will, in his own time, extricate them hy means unforeseen, out of their present difficulties, and reward them with benefits unhoped for. The Upper Servants of great families may, from the odious character ef Mrs. Jewkes, and the amiableness of Mrs. Jervis, Mr. Longman, &c. E e 3 406 PAMELA. Applications of the foregoing Incidents. learn what to avoid, and what to choose, to make themselves valued and esteemed by all who know them. And, from the double conduct of poor John, the Lower Servant? may learn fidelity, and how to distinguish between the lawful and unlawful commands of a superior. The poor deluded female, who, like the unhappy Miss Godfrey, has given up her honour, and yielded to the allurements of a designing lover, may learn, from her story, to stop at the first fault ; and, by resolving to repent and amend, see the pardon and blessing which await her penitence, and a kind Providence ready to extend its mercy to receive and reward her returning duty : while the prostitute, pursuing the wicked courses into which, perhaps, she was at first inadvertently drawn, hurries herself into filthy diseases, and an untimely death ; and too probably into everlasting perdition. Let the desponding heart be comforted by the happy issue which the troubles and trials of Pamela met with, when they see that no danger or distress, however inevitable or deep, to their apprehensions, is out of the power of Providence to obviate or relieve ; which can turn the most seemingly grievous things to its own glory, and the reward of suffering innocence ; and that, too, at a time when all human prospects seem to fail. Let the rich, and those who are exalted from a low to a high estate, learn that they are not promoted only for a single good ; but that Provi- dence has raised them, that they should dispense to all within their reach the blessings heaped upon them ; and that the greater the power to which they are raised, the greater good will be expected from them. From the low opinion she every where shews of herself, and her attributing all her excellences to pious education, and her lady's virtuous instructions and bounty, let persons even of genius and piety, le .rn not to arrogate to themselves those gifts and graces, which they owe least of all to them- selves : since the beauties of person are frail, and it is not in our power to give them to ourselves, or to be either prudent, wise, or good, without the assistance of Di.ine Grace. From the same good example, let children see what a blessing awaits their duty to th<-ir parents, though ever so low in the world ; and that the only disgrace is to be dishonest ; but none at all to be poor. From the economy she purposes to observe, in her eleva- tion, let even Utdies'of condition learn, that there are family employments, in which they may and ought to make themselves useful ; and that their duty to God, charity to the poor and sick, and the different branches of household management, ought to take up the most considerable portions of their time. From her signal veracity, which she never forfeited, in all the hardships she was tried with, though her answers, as she had reason to apprehend, PAMELA. 407 Svmirnry^of Mrs. B.'s Character. ' ' ' would often make against her; and the innocence she preserved in all her stratagems and contrivances to save herself from violation ; persons, even sorely tempted, may learn to preserve a sacred regard to truth ; which, always begets a reverence for them, even in the corruptest minds. In short, her obliging behaviour to her equals, before her exaltation ; her kindness to them afterwards ; her forgiving spirit, and her generosity j Her meekness in every circumstance where her virtue was Tiot con- cerned ; Her charitable allowances for others, as in the case of Miss Godfrey, for faults she would not have forgiven in herself; Her kindness and prudence to the offspring of that melancholy ad- venture ; Her maiden and bridal purity, which extend as well to her thoughts, as to her words and actions ; Her signal affiance in God ; Her thankful spirit ; her grateful heart ; Her diffusive charity to the poor, which made her blessed by them when- ever she appeared abroad ; The cheerful ease and freedom of her deportment ; Her parental, conjugal, and maternal duty ; Her social virtues ; Are all so many signal instances of the excellency of her mind, which may make hi- character worthy of the imitation of her sex : and the editor of these sheets will have his end, if it inspires a laudable emulation in the minds of any worthy persons, who may thereby entitle themselves to the rewards, the praises, and the blessings, by which Pamela was so deservedly distinguished. END OP THE FIRST PART. PAMELA, VIRTUE REWARDED. PART THE SECOND. PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. THE First Part of Pamela met with a success greatly exceeding the most sanguine expectations : and the Editor hopes, that the Letters which compose this Part will be found equally written to Nature, avoiding all romantic flights, improbable surprises, and irrational machinery; and the passions are touched, where requisite ; and rules, equally new and practi- cable, inculcated throughout the whole, for the general conduct of life ; and, therefore, he flatters himself, that they may expect the good fortune, which few continuations have met with, to be judged not unworthy the First Part ; nor disproportioned to the more exalted condition in which Pamela was destined to shine as an affectionate wife, a faithful friend, a polite and kind neighbour, an indulgent mother, and a beneficent mistress; after having in the former Fart supported the character of a dutiful child, a spotless virgin, and a modest and amiable bride. The reader will easily see, that in so great a choice of materials, as must arise from a multitude of important subjects, in a married life, to such geniuses and friendships as those of Mr. and Mrs. B. the Editor's greatest difficulty was how to bring them within the compass which he was determined not to exceed. And it having been left to his own choice, in what manner to digest and publish the letters, and where to close the work, he had intended, at first, in regard to his other avocations, to have carried the piece no further than the First Fart. It may be expected, therefore, that he should enter into an explanation of the reasons whereby he was provoked into a necessity of altering his intention. But he is willing to decline saying any thing upon o well- known a subject. 410 PAMELA. Imjft-ovemenls of the Kentish Farm-honge. The Editor has been much pressed with importunities and conjectures, in relation to the person and family of the gentlemen, who are the princi- pal persons in the work ; all he thinks himself at liberty to say, or is necessary to be said, is only to repeat what has already been hinted, that the story has its foundation in truth : and that there was a necessity, for obvious reasons, to vary and disguise some facts and circumstances, as also the names of persons, places, &c. LETTER' I. MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, W E arrived here last night, highly pleased with our journey, and the occasion of it. May God bless you both with long life and health, to enjoy your sweet farm, and pretty dwelling, which is just what I wished it to be. And don't make your grateful hearts too uneasy in the possession of it, by your modest diffidence of your own unworthiness : for, at the same time, that it is what will do honour to the best of men, it is not so very extraordinary, considering his condition, as to cause any one to cen- sure it as the effect of a too partial and injudicious kindness for the parents of one whom he delighteth to honour. My dear master (why should I not still call him so, bound to reverence him as I am, in every light he can shine into the most obliging and sensi- ble heart) still proposes to fit up the large parlour, and three apartments in the commodious dwelling he calls yours, for his entertainment and mine, when I pay my duty to you both, for a few happy days ; and he has actually given orders to that effect ; and that the three apartments be so fitted up, as to be rather suitable to your condition, than his own; for, he says, the plain simple elegance, which he will have ohserved in the rooms, as well as the furniture, will be a variety in his retirement to this place, that will make hiin return to his own with the greater pleasure ; and, at the same time, when we are not there, will be of use for the re- ception of any of your friends ; and so he shall not, as he kindly says, rob the good couple of any of their accommodations. The old bow-windows he will have preserved, but will not have them sashed, nor the woodbines, jessamines, and vines, that run up against them, destroyed: only he will have larger panes of glass, and more con- venient casements to let in the sweet air and light, and make amends for that obstructed by the shades of those fragrant climbers. For he has mentioned, three or four times, how gratefully they dispensed their inter- mingled odours to us, when, the last evening we stood at the window, to PAMELA. * 411 _ - * Improvements of tue Kentish Farm-huWse. hear the responsive songs of two warbling nightingales, one at a distance, the other near, which delighted us for above two hours, and the more, as we thought their season had been over. And when they had done, he made me sing him one, for which he rewarded me with a kiss, saying, " How greatly do the innocent pleasures I now hourly taste exceed the guilty tumults that used formerly to agitate my unequal mind ! Never talk, my Pamela, as you frequently do, of obligation to me : one such hour as I now enjoy is an ample reward for all the benefits I can confer on you and yours in my whole life !" The parlour indeed will be more elegant ; though that is to be rather plain than rich, as well in its wainscot as furniture, and to be new floored. The dear gentleman has already given orders, and you will soon have workmen to put them in execution. The parlour-doors are to have brass hinges and locks, and to shut as close, he tells them, as a watch-case : " For who knows," said he, " my dear, but we shall have still added blessings, in two or three charming boys and girls, to place there in their infancy, before they can be of age to be benefited by your lessons and example ? And besides, 1 shall no doubt entertain there some of my chosen friends, in their excursions, for a day or two." How am I, every hour of my life, overwhelmed with instances of God Almighty's goodness and his ! O spare, blessed Father of Mercies, the precious life of this excellent man ; increase my thankfulness, and my worthiness ; and then But what shall I say ? Only that I may continue to be what I am ; for more blessed and happy, in my own mind, I cannot be. The beds he will have of cloth, as lie thinks the situation a little cold ; especially when the wind is easterly, and purposes to be down in the early spring season, now and then, as well as in the latter autumn; and the window curtains of the same, in one room red, in the other green ; but plain, lest you should be afraid to use them occasionally. The carpets for them wrll be sent with the other furniture ; for he will not alter the old oaken floors of the bed-chamber, nor the little room he intends for my use, when I choose not to join in such company as may happen to fall in : " Which, my dear," says he, " shall be as little as is possible, only parti- cular friends, who may be disposed, once in a year or two, to see when I am there, how I live with my Pamela and her parents, and how I pass my time in my retirement, as I shall call this: or, perhaps, they will be apt to think me ashamed of company I shall always be pleased with. Nor are you, my dear, to take this as a compliment to yourself, but a piece of requisite pxdicy in me : for who will oiler to reproach me with marrying, as the world thinks, below me. when they shall see that I not only pride myself in my Pamela, but take pleasure in owning her relations as mine, 412 PAMELA. Letter from Mr. B.'s Parents, and visiting them, and receiving visits from them : and yet offer not to set them up in such a glaring light, as if I would have the world forget (who in that case would always take the more pleasure in remembering) what they were ? And how will it anticipate low reflection, when they shall see I can bend my mind to partake with them the pleasure of their humble but decent life ? Ay," continued he, " and be rewarded for it too, with better health, bette spirits, and a better mind : so that, my dear," added he, " I shall reap more benefit by what I propose to do, than I shall confer." In this generous manner does this best of men endeavour to disclaim (though I must be very ungrateful, if, with me, it did not enhance) the proper merit of a beneficence natural to him ; and which, indeed, as I tell him, may be in one respect depreciated, inasmuch as (so excellent is his nature) he cannot help it if he would. Oh, that it was in my power to recompense him for it ! But 1 am poor, as I have often said, in every thing but will and that is wholly his : and what a happiness is it to me, a happiness I could not so early have hoped for, that I can say so with- out reserve ; since the dear object of it requires nothing of me but what is consistent with my duty to the Supreme Benefactor, the first mover and cause of all his own happiness, of my happiness, and of that of my dear, my ever dear parents. But whither does the enchanting subject lead me ? I am running on to my usual length, though I have not the same excuse for it; for heretofore I had nothing to do but to write. Yet, if I do exceed a little, you will be pleased with it; and you have a right to rejoice with me in the days of my felicity, after your indulgent hearts had been so much pained by a long succession of my fears and dangers, which only\ought to be remembered now as the subject of thankful exultation, by your dutiful and happy daughter. LETTER II. MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, I NEED not repeat to you the sense your good mother and I have of our happiness, and of our obligations to your honoured spouse ; you both were pleased witnesses of it every hour of the happy fortnight you passed with us. Yet, my dear, we hardly know how to address ourselves even to you, much less to the squire, with the freedom he so often invited us to take : for, I don't know how it is, but though you are our daughter, and so far from being lifted up by your high condition, that we see no differ- ence in your behaviour to us, your poor parents, yet, viewing you as the lady of so fine a gentleman, we cannot forbear having a kind of respect, and I don't know what to call it that lays a little restraint upon us. PAMELA. 415 shewing their Gratefulness for God's Providence. And yet, we would not, methinks, let our minds be run away with the admiration of worldly grandeur, so as to set too much by it. But your merit and prudence are so much above all we could ever have any notion of : and to have gentry come only to behold and admire you, not so much for your gentleness, and amiableness, as for your behaviour, and affability to poor as well as rich, and to hear every one calling you an angel, and saying, you deserve to be what you are, make us hardly know how to look upon you, but as an angel indeed ! 1 am sure yeu have been a good angel to us ; since, for your sake, God Almighty has put it into your honoured husband's heart to make us the happiest couple in the world. But little less we should have been, had we only in some far distant land heard of our dear child's happiness and never partaken of the benefits of it our- selves. But thus to be provided for '. thus kindly to be owned, and called father and mother by such a brave gentleman ! and so placed, as to have nothing to do but to bless God, him, and you, and hourly pray for you both, is a providence too mighty to be borne by us, with equalness of temper : we kneel together every morning, noon, and night, and weep and rejoice, and rejoice and weep, to think how our unworthiness is dis- tinguished, and how God has provided for us in our latter days; when all our fear was, that, as we grew elder and more infirm, and worn out by hard labour, we should be troublesome where, not our pride, but our industrious wills, would have made us wish not "to be so ; but to be entitled to a happier lot : for this would have grieved us the more, for the sake of you, my dear child, and your unhappy brother's children : for it is well known, that, though we pretend not to boast of our family, and indeed have no reason, yet none of us were ever sunk so low as I was : to be sure, partly by my own fault ; for, had it been for your poor aged mother's sake only, I ought not to have done what I did for John and William ; for, so unhappy were they, poor lads ! that what I could do, was but as a drop of water to a bucket. But yet the issue has shewn, that (if I may presume to say so) what I did was not displeasing to God ; for I have the comfort to see that my reliance on him while I was doing what some thought imprudent things, yet not wrong things, is so abundantly rewarded, beyond expectation and desert. Blessed be his holy name for it ! You command me Let me, as writing to Mr. B's lady, sny command, though, as to my dear daughter, I will only say desire : and, indeed, 1 will not, as you wish me not to do, let the one condition, which was accidental, put the other, which was natural, out of my thought : you spoke it in better words, but this was the sense. But you have the gift of utterance ; and education is a fine thing, where it meets with such talents to improve upon, as God has given you. Yet let mu not forget what I was going to 414 PAMELA. , Integrity of Mr. Andrews. say You command -or, if you please you desire me to write long letters, and often And how can I help it, if I would ? For when here, in this happy dwelling, and this well-stocked farm, in these rich meadows, and well-cropt acres, we look around us, and which way soever we turn our bead, see blessings upon blessings, and plenty upon plenty ; see barns well stored, poultry increasing, the kine lowing and crowding about us : and are bid to call them our own. Then think, that all is the reward of our child's virtue ! O my dear daughter, who- can bear these things ! Excuse ine ! I must break oft* a little ! For my eyes are as full as my heart ; and 1 will retire to bless God, and your honoured husband. So, my dear child, I now again take up my pen : but reading what I had written, in order; to carry on the thread, I can hardly forbear again, being in one sort affected. But do you think I will call all these things my own ? Do you think I would live rent free ? Can the honoured squire believe, that having such a generous example before me, if I had no gratitude in my temper before, I could help being touched by such an one as he sets me ? If his goodness makes him know no mean in giving, shall I be so greedy as to know none in receiving ? Come, come, my dear child, your poor father is. n if you accept it ; as I hope you will ; and the rather for my dear- Mr. B.'s third reason ; and knowing that this trust will be discharged as worthily and as sufficiently, after you are used to it, as if Mr. Longman himstdf was in it and better it cannot be. Mr. Longman is very fond of this relief, and longs to be down to settle every thing with you, as to the proper powers, the method, &c. And he says, in his usual phrase, that he'll make it as easy to you as a glove. If you do accept it, my dear Mr. B. will leave every thing to you, as to rent, where not already fixed, and, likewise, as to acts of kindness and favour to be done where you think proper ; and he says, that, with his bad qualities, he was ever deemed a kind landlord; and that I can con- firm in fifty instances to his honour : " So that the old gentleman," said be, " need not be afraid of being put upon severe or harsh methods of proceeding, where things will do without ; and he can always befriend an honest man ; by which means the province will be entirely such an one as suits with his inclination. If any thing difficult or perplexing arises," continued he, " or where a little knowledge in law-matters is necessary, Longman shall do all that : and your father will see that he wilLnot have in those points a coadjutor too hard-hearted for his wish ; for it was a rule my father set me, and I have strictly followed, that although I have a lawyer for my steward, it was rather to know how to do right things, than oppressive ones ; and Longman has so well answered this intention, that he was always more noted for composing differences, than promoting law-suits." I dare say, my dear father, this will be acceptable to you, on the several accounts my dearest Mr. B. was phased to mention ; and what a charming PAMELA. 421 - ^ '' Objections to employing Relations. contrivance is here ! God for ever bless his considerate heart for it To ! make you useful to him, and easy to yourself : as well as respected by, and even a benefactor to all around you ! What can one say to all these things ? But what signifies exulting in one's gratitude for one benefit ; every hour the dear man heaps new ones upon us, and we can hardly thank him for one, but a second, and a third, and so on to countless degrees, confound one, and throw back our words upon our hearts before they are well formed, and oblige us to sit down under all with profound silence and admiration. As to the desire of cousin Thomas, and Roger, to live with you, I endeavoured to sound what our dear benefactor's opinion was. He was pleased to say, " I have no choice in this case, my dear. Your father is his own master : he may employ whom he pleases ; and, if they shew respect to him and your mother, I think, as he rightly observes, relation- ship should rather have the preference ; and as he can remedy inconveni- ences, if be finds any, by all means to let every branch of your family have reason to rejoice with him." But I have thought of this matter a good deal, since I had the favour of your letter; and I hope, since you condescend to ask my advice, you will excuse me, if I give it freely ; yet entirely submitting all to your liking. First, then, I think it better to ha\2 any body than relations ; and for these reasons : One is apt to expect more regard from them, and they more indulgence than strangers can hope for. That where there is such a difference in the expectations of both, uneasi- ness cannot but arise. That this will subject you to bear it, or to resent it, and to part with them. If you l>ear it, you will know no end of impositions : if you dismiss them, it will occasion ill-will. They will call you unkind ; and you them ungrateful : and as your, prosperous lot may raise you enviers, such will be apt to belive them rather than you. Then the world will be inclined to think that we are crowding upon a generoui gentleman a numerous family of indigent people ; and it will be said, " The girl is filling even place with her relations, and beleaguer- ing," as you significantly express it, " a worthy gentleman ;" should one's kindred behave ever so worthily. So, in the next place, one would not, for their sakes, that this should be done; who may live with less reproach, and equal benefit, any where else: for 1 would not wish am one of them to be lifted out ot his station, and made independent, at Mr. B.'s expense, if their industry would not do it ; although I would never scruple to do anything reasonable to promote or assist that industry, in the way of their callings. r i ", A'iA PAMELA. Objections to employing Relations. Then it will possibly put others of our relations upon the same expecta- tions of living' with you ; and this may occasion ill-wilF among them, if some be preferred to others in your favour. Then, my dear father, I apprehend that our honoured benefactor would be under some difficulty, from his natural politeness and regard for you and me. You see how kindly, on all occasions, he treats you both, not only as the parents of his Pamela, but as if you were his own : and if you had any body as your servants there, who called you cousin, or grand- father, or uncle, he would not care, when he came down, to treat them on the foot of common servants, though they might think themselves ho- noured (as they would be, and as I shall always think myself) with his commands. And would it not, if they are modest and worthy, be as great a difficulty upon them, to be thus distinguished, as it would be to him and to me, for his sake ? For otherwise (believe me, I hope you will, my dear father and mother) I could sit down and rejoice with the meanest and remotest relation I have. But in the world's eye, to every body but my best of parents, 1 must, if ever so reluctant to it, appear in a light that may not give discredit to his choice. Then again, as I hinted, you will be able, without the least injury to our common benefactor, to do kinder things by any of our relations, when not with you, than you can do, if they live with you. You may lend them a little money to put them in a way, if any thing offers that you think will be to then* advantage. You can fit out my she- cousins to good reputable places. The younger you can put to school, or, when fit, to trades, according to their talents ; and so they will be of course in a way to get. an honest and creditable livelihood. But, above all things, one would discourage such a proud and ambi- tious spirit in any of them, as should want to raise itself by favour instead of merit ; and this the rather, for, undoubtedly, there are many more happy persons in low than in high life, take number for number ail the world over. I am sure, although four or five years of oifferent life had passed with me, I had so much pride and pleasure in the thought of working for my living with you, if I could but get honest to you, that it made my confine- ment the more grievous, and, if possible, aggravated the apprehensions attending it. But I beg of you, not to think these my reasons proceed from the bad motives of a heart tainted with pride on its high condition. Indeed there can be no more reason for it, to one who thinks after this manner : the greatest families on earth have some among them who are unhappy and low in life : and shall such an one reproach me with having twenty low relations, because they have, peradventure, not above five ? Or, should I, PAMELA. 423 B _^___^ ^_ *+ j y _ Objections to employing Relations. _ ^ on the other hand, be ashamed of relations who had dolfe nothing blame- worthy, and whose poverty (a very necessary state in the scale of beings) was all their crime, when there is hardly any great family but has pro- duced instances of persons guilty of bad actions, really bad, which have reduced them to a distress we never knew ? Let the person who would reproach me with low birth, which is no disgrace, and what I cannot help, give me no cause to retort upon him low actions, which are a disgrace to any station, the more so the higher it is, and which he can help : or else I shall smile with contempt at his mpty reproach, and, could I behalf so proud with cause, as he is without, glory in my advantage over him. Let us then, my dear parents, endeavour to judge of one another, as God, at the last day, will judge of us all : and then the honest peasant will stand fairer in our esteem than the guilty peer. In short, this shall be my own rule Every one who acts justly and honestly, I will look upon as my relation, whether so or not ; and the more he wants my assistance, the more entitled to it he shall be, as well as to my esteem ; while those who deserve it not, must expect only com- passion from me, and my prayers, were they my brothers or sisters. 'Tis true, had I not been poor and lowly, T might not have thought thus : but if it be a right way of thinking, it is a blessing that I was so ; and that shall never be matter of reproach to me, which ol Jay will be matter of justification. Upon the whole, I should think it advisable, my dear father and mother, to make such kind excuses to the offered services of' my cousins, as your better reason shall suggest to you ; and to do any thing else for them of more value, as their circumstances may require, or occasions ofTer to serve them. But if the employing and having them about you, will add comfort to your lives, I give up entirely my own opinion, and doubt not every thing will be thought well of,-that you shall think fit to do. And so 1 conclude with assuring you, that I am, my ever dear parents, your dutiful ami happy daughter. The copy of this letter I will keep to myself, till I have your answer, that you may be under no difficulty how to act in either of the cases men- tioned in it. LETTER V. MY DF.AliFIST DAUGHTER, HOW shall I do to answer, as they deserve, your two last letters ? Sure no happy couple ever had such a child as we have ! But it is in vain to aim at words like yours ; and equally in vain for us to offer to set fofh the thankfulness of our hearts, on the kind office your honoured imsband has given us ; for no reason but to favour us still more, and to quiet l i 1 424 PAMELA. , Letter to Mrs. B. from her Parents. our minds in the notion of being useful to him. God grant I may be able to be so ! Happy shall I be, if I can ! But I see the generous drift of bis proposal ; it is only to make me more easy from the nature of my em- ployment, and, in my mind too, overloaded as I may say, with benefits ; and at the same time to make me more respected in my new neigh- bourhood. I can only say, I most gratefully accept of the kind offer ; and since it will ease the worthy Mr. Longman, shall with still greater pleasure do all I can in it. But I doubt I shall want ability : but I will be just and ho- nest, however. That, by God's grace, will be within my own capacity ; and that, I hope, 1 may answer for. It is kind, indeed, to put it in my power to do good to those who shall deserve it ; and I will take double pains to find out the true merit of such as I shall recommend to favour, and that their circumstances be really such as I shall represent them. But one thing let me desire, that I make up my accounts to Mr. Long- man, or to his honour himself, when he shall be herewith us. I don't know how but it will make me uneasy, if I am to make up my accounts to you : for so well known is your love to us, that though you would no more do an unjust thing, than, by God's grace, we should desire you ; yet this same ill-willing world might think it was like making up accounts to one's self. Do, my dearest child, get me off this difficulty, and I can have no.nther ; for already I am in hopes I have hit upon a contrivance to improve the estate, and to better the condition of the tenants, at least not to worst them, and which, I hope, will please every body ; but I will acquaint Mr. Longman with this, and take his advice ; for I will not be too troublesome either to you, my dear child, or to your spouse. If I could aet^o for his interest, as not to be a burden, what happy creatures should we both be in our own minds ! We find ourselves more and more respected by every- one ; and so far as shall be consistent with our new trust, we will endea- vour to deserve it, that we may interest as many as know us in our own good wishes and prayers for the happiness of you both. But let me say, how much convinced I am by your reasons for not tak- ing to us any of our relations. Every one of those reasons has its force with us. How happy are we to have so prudent a daughter to advise with ! And I think myself obliged to promise this, that whatever I do for any of them above the amount of forty shillings at one time, I will take your direction in it, that your wise hints, of making every one continue their industry, and not to rely upon favour instead of merit, may be followed. I am sure this is the way to make them happier as well as better men and women ; for, as I have ofun thought, if one were to have a hundred PAMELA. #25 Letter to M.s. B. from her Parents. - . . ' ,'*'" ' ' * " pounds a year, it would not do without industry : and with it, one may do with a quarter of it and less. Jn short, my dear child, your reasons are so good, that I wonder they came not into my head before, and then I 'needed not to have troubled you about the matter : but yet it ran in my own thought, that I could not like to be an encroacher : for I hate a dirty thing ; and, In the midst of my distresses, never could be guilty of one. Thank God for it. You rejoice our hearts beyond expression at the hope you give us of receiving letters from you now and then : it will be the chief comfort of our lives, next to seeing you, as we expect we sometimes shall. But yet, my dear child, don't let us inconvenience you neither. Pray don't : you" will have enough upon your hands without to be sure you will. The workmen have made a good progress, and wish for Mr. Longman to come down : as we also do. You need'not be afraid we should think you proud, or lifted up with your condition. You have weathered the first dangers, and but for your tine clothes and jewels, we should not see any difference between our dear Pamela and the .much respected Mrs. B. But God has given you too much sense to he*, proud or lifted up. I remember, in your former writings, a saying of your squire's, speaking of you, that it was for per- sons not used to praise, and who did not deserve it, to he proud of it ; in like sort one may say, it is for persons of little sense ,to be proud ; but you, my dear child, every one sees, are above it ; and that, methinks, is a proud word ; is it not ? If one was not I don't know how 'half stupid, i believe one would be raised by your high style of writing. But I should be more than half stupid, I am sure, to aim at it. Every day brings us instances of the good name his honour and you, my dear child, have left behind you in this country. Here comes one, and then another, and a third, and a fourth ; " Goodman Andrews," cries one, and, " Goody Andrews," cries another (and some call us Mr. and Mrs. hut we like the other full as well) " when heard you from his ho- nour ? How does his lady do ? What a charming couple are they! How lovingly do they live ! What an example do they give to all about them !" Then one cries, u God bless them both," and another cries, " Amen ;" and so says a third and a fourth ; and all say, " But when do you expect them down again ?" " Such-an-one longs to sec 'em and will ride a day's journey, to have but a sight of 'cm at church." And then they say, " How this gentleman praises them, and that lady admires them." Oh, what a happine?R is this! How do your poor mother and I stand fixed to the earth to hear both your praises, our fears trickling down our cheeks, and our hearts heaving as if they would burst with joy, till we are forced to take leave in half words, and hand in hand go in together to bless God., 426 PAMELA. Lftter from Lady Davers to Mrs. B. and bless you both. O my daughter, what a happy couple have God and you made us ! Your poor mother is very anxious about her dear child. I will not touch upon a matter so very irksome to you to hear of. But, though the time may be some months off, she every hour prays for your safety and happiness, and all the increase of felicity that his honour's generous heart can wish for. That is all we will say at present : only, that we are, with continued prayers and blessings, my dearest child, your loving father and mother, J. and E. Andrews. Yet one word more ! and that is our duty to your honoured husband. We must say so now ; though he forbad us so often before. You cannot imagine how ashamed 1 was to have my poor letter shewn to him. I hardly remember what I wrote ; but it was from my heart ; so I needed not to keep a copy : for an honest mind must always be the same, in cases that cannot admit of change, such as those of my thankfulness to God and to him. But don't shew him all I A.-ite : for I shall be afraid of what I say, if I think any body but our daughter sees it, who can allow for her poor parents' defects. LETTER VI. From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. MY DEAR PAMELA, I INTENDED to have been with you before this : but my lord has been a little indisposed with the gout, and Jackey has had an intermitting fever : but they are pretty well recovered, and it shall not be long before I see you, now I understand you are returned from your Kentish expedition. We have been exceedingly diverted with your papers. You have given us, by their means, many a delightful hour, that otherwise would have hung heavy upon us ; and we are all charmed with you. Lady Betty, and her noble mamma, has been of our party, whenever we have read your accounts. She is a dear generous lady, and has shed with us many a tear over them ; and my lord has not been unmoved, nor .lackey neither, at some of your distresses and reflections. Indeed, Pamela, you are a charming ereature, and an ornament to your sex. We wanted to have had you among us a hundred times, as we read, that we might have loved, and kissed, and thanked you. But after all, my brother, grnerous and noble as he seemed, wh*n your trials were over, was a strange wicked young fellow ; and happy it was for you both, that he was so cleverly caught in the trap he had laid for your virtue. I can assure you, my lord lours to see you, and will accompany me j PAMELA. 427 requesting the Continuation of her Papers. for, he says, he has s but a faint idea of your person. I tell him, and them all, that you are the finest girl, and the most improved in person and mind, I ever beheld ; and I am not afraid although they should imagine all they can in your favour, from my account, that they will be dis- appointed when they see and converse with you. But one thing more you must do, and then we will love you still more ; and that is, send us the rest of your papers, down to your marriage at least ; and farther, if you have written farther ; for we all long to see the rest, as you relate it, though we know in general what has passed. You leave oft* with an account of an angry letter I wrote to my brother, to persuade him to give you your liberty, and a sum of money ; not doubt- ing but his designs would end in your ruin, and, I own, not wishing he would marry you ; for little did I know of your merit and excellence, nor could I, but for your letters so lately sent me, have had any notion of either. I don't question, but if you have recited my passionate behaviour to you, when at the hall, I shall make a ridiculous figure enough ; but I will forgive all that, for the sake of the pleasure you have given me, and will still farther give me, if you comply with my request. Lady Betty says, it is the best story she has heard, and the most instructive ; and she long* to have the conclusion of it in your own words. She says now and then, " What a hopeful brother you have, Lady Davers ? these intriguing gentlemen! What rogueries do they not commit! 1 should have had a fine husband of him, had I received your proposal! The dear Pamela would have run in his- head, and had I been the first lady in the kingdom, 1 should have stood but a poor chance in his esteem ; for, you see, his designs upon her began early." She says, you had a good heart to go back again to him, when the vio- lent wretch had driven you front him on such a slight occasion : but yet, she thinks the reasons you give in your relation, and your love for him (which then you began to discover was your case) as well as the event, shewed you did right. But we'll tell you all our judgments, when we have read the rest of your account*. So pray send tli'-m a ,on as you can, to '1 won't write myself sister till then' your affectionate, &c. L. Davers. LETTER VII. my nr.AR (.<.o i. aoy, YOU have done trc great honour in the letter your ladyship has been pleased to send me ; and it is a high pleasure to ni'', now all i-. sit happily over, that my poor papers in the least diverted you, and such honourable and worthy persons as your ladyship mentions. I could wish I mi^ht be favoured with such remarks on my conduct, so nakedly set forth without 423 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'5 Letter to Lady Davers, any imagination that they would ever appear in such an assembly) as may be of use to me in my future life, and thus make me more worthy than it is otherwise possible 1 can be, of the honour to which I am raised. Do, dearest lady, favour me so far. I am prepared to receive blame, and to benefit by it, and cannot expect praise so much from my actions as from my intentions ; for indeed, these were always just and honourable : but why, even for these do I talk of praise, since, being prompted by im- pulses I could not resist, it can be no merit in me to have been governed by them ? As to the papers following those in your bands, when I say, that they must needs appear impertinent to such judges, after what you know, I dare say, your ladyship will not insist upon them : yet I will not scruple briefly to mention what they contain. All my dangers and trials were happily at an end : so that they only contain the conversations that passed between your ladyship's generous brother and me ; bis kind assurances of honourable love to me ; my acknowledgments of unworthiness to him ; Mrs. Jewkes's respectful change of behaviour towards me ; Mr. B.'s reconciliation to Mr. Williams ; his introducing me to the good families in the neighbourhood, and avow- ing before them his honourable intentions. A visit from my honest father, who (not knowing what to conclude from my letter to him before I re- turned to your honoured brother, desiring my papers from him) came in great anxiety of heart to know the worst, doubting I bad at last been caught by a stratagem, ending in my ruin. His joyful surprise to find how happy I was likely to be. All the hopes given me, answered by the private celebration of our nuptials an honour so much above all that my utmost ambition could make me aspire to, and which I never can deserve ! Your ladyship's arrival, and anger, not knowing I was actually married, but supposing me a vile wicked creature j in which case 1 should have deserved the worst of usage. Mr. B.'s angry lessons to me, for daring to interfere, though I thought in the tenderest and most dutiful manner, between your ladyship and himself. The most acceptable goodness and favour of your ladyship afterwards to me, of which, as becomes me, I shall ever retain the most grateful sense. My return to this sweet mansion in a manner so different from my quitting it, where I had been so happy for four years, in paying my duty to the best of mistresses, your ladyship's excellent mother, to whose goodness, in taking me from my poor honest parents, and giving m what education I have, I owe, under God, my happiness. The joy of good Mis. Jrrvis, Mr. Longman, and all the servants, on this occasion. Mr. B.'s acquainting me with Miss Godfrey's affair, and presenting to me the pretty Miss Goodwin, at the dai*y-houte. Our appearance at church ; the favour of the gentry in the PAMELA. M9 contaiuiug a Summary of the Continuation of her Papers. - neighbourhood, who, knowing your ladyship had not disdained to look upon me, and to be favourable to me, came the more readily into a neigh- bourly intimacy with me, and still so much the mor* readily, as the con- tinued kindness of my dear benefactor, and his condescending deport- ment to me before them (as if I had been worthy of the honour done me) did credit to his own generous act. These, my lady, down to my good parents setting out to this place, in order to be settled, by my honoured benefactor's bounty, in the Kentish farm, are the most material contents of my remaining papers : and though they might be the most agreeable to those for whom only they were written, yet, as they were principally matters of course, after what your ladyship has with you ; as the joy of my fond heart can be better judged of by your ladyship than described by me : and as you are acquainted with all the particulars that can be worthy of any other person's notice but my dear parents ; I am sure your ladyship will dispense with your commands ; and I make it my humble request that you will. For, Madam, you must needs think, that when my doubts were dis- pelled ; ufien confident all my trials were over ; when I had a prospect of l>eing so abundantly rewarded for what I had suffered ; when every hour rose upon me with new delight, and fraught with fresh instances of gene- rous kindness from such a dear gentleman, my master, my benefactor, the son of my honoured lady : your ladyship must needs think, 1 say, that I must be too much affected, my heart too much opened ; and especially as it then (relieved from its past anxieties and fears, which had kept down and damped the latent fttBie; first discovered impression* of which before I hardly thought it susceptible. So that it is scarce possible, that my joy and my prudence, if 1 were to be tried by such judges of delicacy and decorum as Lord and Lady Davers, the honoured countess, and Lady Hetty, could be so intimately, so laudably coupled, as were to be wished : although the continued sense of my unworthiness, and the disgrace the dear gentleman would bring upon himself by bis generous goodness to me, always went hand in hand with my joy and my prudence . and what these considerations took from \\\e former, being added to the latter, kept me steadier and more equal to myself, than otherwise it was possible such a young creature as I could have been. Wherefore, my good lady, I hope I stand excused, and shall not brin^ upon myself the censure of being disobedient to your commands. Besides, Madam, since you inform me that my good Lord Davers tuII attend you hither, I should never dare to look bis lordship in the face, if till the emotions of my heart, on such affecting occasions, stood confessed to his lordbip ; and if I am ashamed they should to your ladyship, to the countess, and Lady Betty, whose goodness-must induce you all three 430 PAMELA. Letter from Lady Davers to Mrs. B. to think favourably, in such circumstances, of one who is of your own sex, how would it concern me, for the same to appear before such gentlemen as my lord and his nephew? Indeed I could not look up to either of them in the sense of this. And give me leave to hope, that some of^the scenes, in the letters your ladyship had, were not read to gentlemen ; your ladyship must needs know which I mean, and will think of my two grand trials of all. For though I was the innocent subject of wicked attempts, and so cannot, I hope, suffer in any one's opinion for what I could not help ; yet, for your dear brother's sake, as well as for the decency of the matter, one would not, when having the honour to appear before my lord and his nephew, be looked upon, methinks, with that levity of eye and thought, which, perhaps, hard-hearted gentlemen may pass upon one, by reason of the very scenes which would move pity and concern in a good lady's breast, for a poor creature so attempted. So, my dear lady, be pleased to tell me, if the gentlemen have heard all 1 hope not And also to point out to me such parts of my conduct as deserve blame . indeed, I will try to make a good use of your censure, and am sure J shall be thankful for it ; for it will make me hope to be more and more worthy of the honour I have, of being exalted into such a distinguished family, and the right the best of gentlemen has given mc to style myself your ladyship's mpst humble, and most obliged servant, P. B. LETTER VIII. From Lady Davers, in reply. MY DEAR PAMELA, YOU have given us all a great disappointment in declining to oblige me with the sequel of your papers. I was a little out of humour with you at first ; 1 must own I was : for I cannot bear denial, when my heart is set upon any thing. But Lady Betty became your advocate, and said, she thought you very excusable : since, no doubt, there might be many tender things, circumstanced as you were, well enough for your parents to see, but for nobody else ; and relations of our side, the least of all, whose future intimacy, and freqiisnt visits, might give occasions for raillery and remarks, not otherwise agreeable. I regard her apology for you the more, because 1 knew it was a great balk'to her, that you did not comply with my request. But now, child, when you know me more, you'll find, that if I am obliged to give up one point. I always insist on another, as near it as I can, in order to see if it be only one thing I am to be refused, or every thing; ill which last case, I know how to take my measures, and resent. Now this is what I insist upon ; that you correspond with me the same as you did with your parents, and acquaint me with every passage that is . PAMELA. 431 requesting a regular Correspondence. of concern to you ; beginning with your accounts how both of you spent your time when in Kent ; for you must know we are all taken with your duty to your parents, and the discretion of the good couple, and think you have given a very edifying example of filial piety to all who shall hear your story : for if so much duty is owing to parents, where nothing can be done for one, how much more is it to be expected, where there is power to add to the natural obligation, all the comforts and conveniences of life ? We people in upper life love to hear how gratitude and unexpected benefits operate upon honest minds, who have little more than plain artless nature for their guide ; and we flatter ourselves with the hopes of many a delightful hour, by your means, in this our solitary situation, if obliged to pass the next winter in it, as my lord and the earl threaten me, and the countess, and Lady Betty, that we shall. Then let us hear of every tiling that- gives you joy or trouble : and if my brother carries you to town, for the winter, while he attends parliament, the advices you can give us of what passes in London, and of the public entertainments and diversions he will take you to, related in your own artless and natural observations, will be as diverting to us, as if at them ourselves. For a young creature of your good understanding, to whom all these things will be quite new, will give us, perhaps, a better taste of them, their beauties and defects, than we might have before ; for we people of quality go to those places, dressed out and adorned, in such a manner, outvying one another, as if we considered ourselves as so many parts of the public entertainment, and are too much pleased with ourselves to be able so to attend to what we see, as to form a right judgment of it ; but some of us behave with so much indifference to the entertainment, as if we thought ourselves above being diverted by what we come to see, and as if our view was rather to trifle r.way our time, th an improve ourselves by attending to the story of the action. See, Pamela, I shall not make an unworthy correspondent altogether, for I can get into thy grave way, and moralize a little now and then . and if you'll promise to oblige me by your constant correspondence in this way, and divest yourself of all restraint, as if you were writing to your parent, (and 1 can tell you, you'll write to one who will be as candid and as favourable to you as they can be) then I am sure we shall have truth and nature from you ; and these are things which we are ir* nerally so iuiii li lifted above, by our conditions, that we hardly know what they are. But I have written enough for one letter ; and yet, having more to say, I will, after this, send another, without wailing i'ur your answer, which you may give to both together ; and am, yours, o* i B. Daveks. 2 PAMELA. i - Letter from J,ady Davcrs to Mrs. B. LETTER IX. DEAR PAMELA, I AM very glad thy honest man lias let thee into the affair of Sally Godfrey. But pr'ythee, Pamela, tell us how he did it, and thy thoughts upon it, for that is a critical case j and as he has represented it, so shall f know what to say of it before you and him : for I would not make mischief between you for the world. This, let me tell you, will be a trying part of your conduct. For he loves the child, and will judge of you by your conduct towards it. He dearly loved her mother ; aud notwithstanding her fault, she well de- served it : for she was a sensible, ay, and a modest lady, and of an ancient and genteel family. But he was heir to a noble estate, w'as of a bold and enterprising spirit, fond of intrigue Don't let this concern you You'll have the greater, happiness, and merit too, if you can hold him ; and, 'tis my opinion, if any body can you will. Then he did not like the young lady's mother, who sought artfully to entrap him. So that the poor girl, divided between her inclination for him, and her duty to her designing mother, gave into the plot upon him : and he thought himself vile wretch as he was for all that ! at liberty to set up plot against plot, and the poor lady's honour was the sacrifice. I hope you spoke well of her to him I hope you received the child kindly 1 hope you had presence of mind to do this For it is a nice part to act ; and all his observations were up, I dare say, on the occasion Do, let me hear how it was. And write without restraint : for although I am not your mother, yet am 1 his eldest sister, you know, and as such come, I will say so, in hopes you'll oblige me your sister, and so entitled to expect a compliance with my request : for is there not a duty, in degree, to elder sisters from younger? As to our remarks upon your behaviour, they have been much to your credit : but nevertheless, I will, to encourage you to enter into this requested correspondence with me, consult Lady Betty, and will go over your papers again, and try to find fault with your conduct, and if we see any thing censurable, will freely let you know our minds. But, before hand, I can tell you, we shall be agreed in one opinion ; and that is, that we know not who would have acted as you have done, upon the whole. St>, Pamela, you see I put myself upon the same foot of correspondence with you. Not that 1 will promise to answer every letter : no, you must not expect that. Your part will be a kind of narrative, purposely designed to entertain us here; and I hope to receive six, seven, eight, or ten letters, as it may happen, before I return one : but such a part I will bear in it, as shall let you know our opinion of your proceed- ings, and relations of things. And as you wish to be found fault with, PAMELA. 433 . v- :*! -B -. , , ,'' ' ' giving her some Hints concerning family Attain. you shall freely have it (though not in a splenetic or ill-natured way) as often as you give occasion. Now, Pamela, I have two views in this. One is to see how a man of my brother's spirit, who has not denied him- self any genteel liberties (for it must be owned he never was a.common town rake, and had always a dignity in his roguery) will behave himself to you, and in wedlock, which used to be freely sneered at by him ; the next, that I may love you more and more, as by your letters I shall be more and more acquainted with you, as well as by conversation ; so that your can't be off, if you would. I know, however, you will have one objection to this ; and that is, that your family affairs will require your attention, and not give the time you used to have for this employment. But consider, child, the station you are raised to does not require you to be quite a domestic animal. You are lifted up to the rank of a lady, and you must act up to it, and not think of setting such an example, as will draw upon you the ill-will and censure of other ladies. For will any of our sex visit one who is continually employing herself in such works as either must be a reproach to herself or to them ? You'll have nothing to do but to give orders. You will consider yourself as the task- mistress, and the common herd of female servants as so many negroes directing themselves, by your nod ; or your- self as the master-wheel, in some beautiful pieces of mechanism, whose dignified grave motions is to set a going all the under-whecls, with a velo- city suitable to their respective parts. Let your servants, under your direction, do all that relates to household management ; they cannot write to entertain and instruct as you can : so what will you have to do ? I'll answer my own question : In the first place, endeavour to please your sovereign lord and master ; and let me tell you, any other woman in England, be her quality ever so high, would have found enough to do to succeed in that. Secondly, to receive and pay visits, in order, for Ins credit as well as your own, to make your fashionable neighbours fond of you. Then, thirdly, you will have time upon your hands (as your monarch himself rises early, and is tolerably regular for such a brazen face as he has been) to write to mc in the manner I have mentioned, and expect ; and 1 see plainly, by your style, nothing can be easier for you than to do this. Thus, and with reading, may your lime be filled up with reputation ti yourself, and delight to others, till a fourth employment puts itself upon you : and that is (shall I tell you in one word, without mincing the matter ?) a succession of brave boys, to perpetuate a family for many hundred years esteemed worthy and eminent, which, being now reduced, in the direct line, to him and me, expects it from you ; or else let me t< II you (nor will I balk it; my brother, by descending to the wholesome cot u 15 a > 434 PAMELA. = ' ' ' ' * . i . , - i i, Letter from Larty Davers to Mrs. B. Excuse me, Pamela will want one apology for his conduct, be as excellent as you may. I say this, child, not to reflect upon you, since the thing is done ; for I love you dearly, and will love you more and more but to let you know what is expected from you, and encourage you in the prospect already opening to you hoth, and to me, who have the welfare of the family I sprung from so much at heart, although I know this will be attended with some anxieties to a mind so thoughtful and apprehensive as your's seems to be. Oh, but this puts me in mind of your solicitude, lest the gentlemen should have seen every thing contained in your letters But this I will particularly speak to in a third letter, having filled my paper on all sides : . and am, till then, yours, &c. B. Davers. You see, and I hope will take it as a favour, that I break the ice, and begin first in the indispensably expected correspondence between us. LETTER X. From the same. AND so, Pamela, you are solicitous to know if the gentlemen have seen every part of your papers ? I can't say but they have : nor, except in regard to the reputation of yoor 'saucy man, do I see why the part you hint at might not be read by those to whom the rest might be shewn. I can tell you, Lady Betty, who is a very nice and delicate lady, had no objection to any part, though read before men : only now and then crying out, " O the vile man ! See, Lord Davers, what wretches you men are \" And, commiserating you, ." Ah ! the poor Pamela !" And expressing her impatience to hear how you escaped at this time, and at that, and re- joicing in your escape. And now and then, " O Lady Davers, what a vile brother yon have ! I hate him perfectly. The poor girl cannot be made amends for all this, though he has married her. Who, that knows these things of him, would wish him to be hers, with all his advantages of person, mind, and fortune ?" And such like expressions in your praise, and condemning him and his wicked attempts. But I can tell you this, that except one had heard every tittle of your danger, how near you were to ruin, and how little he stood upon taking any measures to effect his vile purposes, even daring^to attempt you'in the presence of a good woman, which was a wickedness that every wicked man could not be guilty of ; I say, except one had known these things, one could not have judged of the merit of your resistance, and how shocking those attempts were to your \irtue, for your life itself was endangered by them : nor, let me tell you, could I, in particular, have so well justified bim for marrying you (I mean with respect to his own proud and haughty PAMELA. 435 i , . .- - i i containing Remarks on her Journal. temper of mind) if there had been room to think ht could have had you upon easier terms. It was necessary, child, on twenty accounts, that we, your and his well- wishers and his relations, should know that he had tried every stratagem to subdue you to his purpose, before he married you : and how would it have answered to his intrepid character, and pride of heart, had we not been particularly led itito the nature of those attempts, which you so nobly resisted, as to convince us all, that you have deserved the good fortune you have met with, as well as all the kind and respectful treatment he can possibly shew you ? Nor ought you to be concerned who sees any the most tender parts of your story, except, as I said, for' his sake ; for it must be a very unvirtuous mind that can form any other ideas from what you relate than those of terror and pity for you. Your expressions are too delicate to give the nicest ear offence, except at him. You paint no scenes but such as make his wickedness odious : and that gentleman, much more lady, must have a very corrupt heart, who could from such circumstances of distress make any reflections but what should be to your honour, and in abhorrence of such actions. I am so convinced of this, that by this rule I would judge of any man's heart in the world, better than by a thousand declarations and protestations. I do assure you, rakish as Jackey is, and freely as 1 doubt not that Lord Davers has formerly lived (for he has been a man of pleasure) they gave me, by their behaviour on these tender occasions^ reason to think they had more virtue than not to be very apprehensive for your safety ; and my lord often exclaimed, that he could not have thought his brother such a libertine, neither. Besides, child, were not these things written in confidence to your mother? And, bail ;is bis actions were to you, if you had not recited all you could recite, would there not have been room for any one, who saw what you wrote, to imagine they had been -.till worse ? And how could the terror be supposed to have had such effects upon you, as to endanger your- life, without imagining you had undergone the worst a vile man could offer, unless you had told us what that was which he did offer, and so put a bound, as it were, to one's fears nf what you suffered, which otherwise must have been injurious to your purity, though you could not help it ? Moreover, Pamela, ^t was but doing justice to the libertine himself to tell your mother the whole truth, that she might know he was not so very abandoned, but he could stop short of the execution of his wicked pur- pose*, which he apprehended, if pursued, would destroy the life, that, of all lives, he would choose to preserve ; and you owned also thus much to your parent's peace of mind, that, after ?11 their districting fe.ir; for you, they might see they had reason to rejoice in an ineontaminated 436 PAMELA. - ' ' Letter from Mrs. B. to Lady Pavers, daughter. And one cannot but reflect, now lie has made you his wife, that it must be satisfaction to the wicked man, as well as to yourself, that he was not more guilty than he wan, nor took more liberties than he did. For my qwn part, 1 must say, that I could not have accounted for your fits, by any descriptions short of those you give ; and had you been less particular in the circumstances, I should have judged he had been still worse, and your person, though not your mind, less pure, than his pride would expect from the woman he should marry ; for this is the case of all rakes, that though they indulge in all manner of libertinism themselves, there is no class of men who exact greater delicacy from the persons they marry, though they care not how bad they make the wives, the sisters, and daughters of others. I will only add (and send all my three letters together) that we all blame you in some degree for bearing the wicked Jewkes in your sight, after her most impudent assistance in his lewd attempt : much less, we think, ought you to have left her in her place, and rewarded her ; for her ileness could hardly be equalled by the worst actions of the most aban- doned procuress. I know the difficulties you labour under, in his arbitrary will, and intercession for her : but Lady Betty rightly observes, that he knew what a vile woman she was, when he put you into her power, and no doubt ejnployed her, being sure she would answer all his purposes : and that therefore she should have had very little opinion of the sincerity of his reformation, while he was so solicitous in keeping her, and having her put upon a foot, in the present on your nuptials, with honest Jervis. She would, she says, had she been in your case, have had one struggle for her dismission, let it have been taken as it would ; and he that was so well pleased with your virtues, must have thought this a natural conse- quence of it, if he was in earnest to reclaim. I know not whether you shew him all I write -. but I have written this last part in the cover, as well for want of room, as that you may keep it from him, if you please- Though if you think it will serve any good end, I am not against shewing to him all I write. For I must ever speak my mind, though I were to smart for it ; and that nobody can or has the heart to make me do, but my bold brother. >o, Pamela, for this time, adieu. LETTER XI. MY GOOD LADY, I AM honoured with your ladyship's three letters, the contents of which are highly obliging to me : and I should be inexcusable if I did not com- ply with your injunctions, and be very proud and thankful for your lady- PAMELA. 437 ' * ' j giving au Account of the Visit to Kent. ship's condescension in accepting of my poor scribble, and promising such a rich and valuable return ; of which you have already given such ample and delightful instances. ' I will not plead my defects, to excuse my obe- dience. I only fear that the awe which will be always upon me, when I write to your ladyship, will lay me under so great a restraint, that I shall fall short even of the merit my papers have already made for me, through your kind indulgence. Vet sheltering myself under your goodness, I will cheerfully comply with every thing your ladyship expects from me, that it is in my power to do. You will give me leave, Madam, to put into some little method the particulars of what you desire of me, that 1 may speak to them all : for, since you are so good as to excuse me from sending the rest of my papers (which indeed would not bear in many places) I will omit nothing that shall tend to convince you of my readiness to ebey you in everything else. First, then, your ladyship would have the particulars of the happy fort- night we passed in Kent, on one of the most agreeable occasions that could befal rae. Secondly, an account of the manner in which your dear brother ac- quainted me with the affecting story of Miss Godfrey, and my behaviour upon it. And, thirdly, I presume your ladyship, and Lady Betty, expect me to say something upon your welcome remarks on my conduct towards Mrs. Jewkes. The other particulars your ladyship mentions will naturally fall under one or other of these three heads But expect not, my. lady, though I begin in method thus, that I shall keep up to it. If you will not allow for me, and keep in view the Poor Pamela Andrews in all I write, but have Mrs. B. in your eye, what will become of me ? But I promise myself so much improvement from this correspondence, that I enter upon it with a greater delight than I can express, notwithstanding the mingled awe and diffidence that will accompany me, in every part of the agreeable task. To begin with the first article : Your dear brother and my honest parents (I know your ladyship will expect from me, that on all occasions I should speak of them with the duty that becomes a good child) with myself, set out on Monday morning for Kent, passing through St. Albans to London, at both which places < stopped a night ; for our dear benefactor would make us take easy jour- n< ys : and on Wednesday evening we arrived at the sweet place allotted for the good couple. We were attended only by Abraham and John, on horseback : for Mr. Colbrand, having sprained his foot, was in the travel- ling-coach, with the cook, the housemaid, and Polly Barlow, a gentegl new servant, whom Mrs. Brooks recommended to wait on me. . G 3 43S PAMELA. Beneficence of Mr. B. Mr. Longman had been there a fortnight, employed in settling the terms of an additional purchase to this pretty well-wooded and well- watered estate : and his account of his proceedings was very satisfactory to his honoured principal. He told us, he had much ado to dissuade the tenants from pursuing a formed resolution of meeting their landlord on horseback, at some irriles distance ; for he had informed them when he expected us : but knowing how desirous Mr. B. was of being retired, he had ventured to assure them, that when every thing was settled, and the new purchase actually entered upon, they would have his presence among them often ; and that he would introduce them all at different times to their worthy landlord, before we left the country. The house is large, and very commodious ; and we found every thing about it, and in it, exceeding neat and convenient ; owing to the worthy Mr. Longman's care and direction. The ground is well-stocked, the biirns and out-houses in excellent repair ; and my poor parents have only to wish, that they and I may be deserving of half the goodness we experience from your bountiful brother. But, indeed, Madam, I have the pleasure of discoveriug every day more and more^that there is not a better disposed and more generous man in the world than himself, for I verily think he has not been -so careful to conceal his bad actions as his good ones. His heart is naturally benefi- cent, and his beneficence is the gift of God for the most excellent pur- poses, as I have often freely told him. Pardon me, my dear lady ; I wish I may not he impertinently grave : but I find a great many instances of his considerate charity, which few knew of, and which, since I have been his almoner, could not avoid coming to my knowledge. But this, possibly, is no news to your ladyship. Every body knows the generous goodness of your own heart : every one wanting relief tasted the bounty of your excel- lent mother, my late honoured lady ; so that 'tis a family grace, and I have no need to speak of it to you, Madam. This cannot, I hope, be construed as if I would hereby suppose our- selves less obliged, 1 know nothing so godlike in human nature as this disposition to do good to our fellow-creatures : for is it not following im- mediately the example of that generous Providence which every minute is conferring blessings upon us all, and by giving power to the rich, makes them but the dispensers of its benefits to those that want them ? Yet, as there are but too many objects of compassion, and as the most beneficent cannot, like Omnipotence, do good to all, how much are they obliged who are distinguished from others '. And this, kept in mind, will always con- tribute to make the benefited receive, as thankfully as they ought, the favours of the obliger. I know not if I write to be understood in all I mean ; but my grateful PAMELA. 439 Letter from Lady Davcrs to Mrs. B. heart is so overfilled when on this subject, that methinks I want to say a great deal more at the same time that I am apprehensive I say too much. Yet, perhaps, the copies of the letters I here enclose (that marked [I.] written by me to my parents, on our return to Kent ; that marked [11.] from my dear father in answer to it ; and that marked [III.] mine in reply to his*) will (at the same time that they may convince your ladyship that I will conceal nothing from you in the course of this correspondence, which may in the least amuse and divert you, or better explain our grate- ful sentiments) in a great measure, answer what your ladyship expects from me, as to the happy fortnight we passed in Kent. I will now conclude, choosing to suspend the correspondence, till I know from your ladyship, whether it will not be loo low, too idle for your attention ; whether you will not dispense with your own commands when you see I am so little likely to answer what you may possibly expect from me; or whether, if you insist upon my scribbling, you would have me write in any other way, be less tedious, less serious in short, less or more any thing. For all that is in my power, your ladyship may com- mand from Madam, your obliged and faithful servant, P. B. Your dearest brother, from whose knowledge I would not keep any thing that shall take up any considerable portion of my time, gives me leave to proceed in this correspondence, if you command it ; and is pleased to say, he will content himself to see such parts of it, and only such parts, as I shall shew him, or read to him. Is not this very good. Madam ? -O my lady, you don't know how happy I am ' LETTER XII. From Lady Davers to Mrs. li. MY DEAR. PAMELA, YOU very much oblige me by your cheerful compliance wikh my request ; I leave it entirely to you to write as you shall be in the humour, when you take up your pen ; and then I shall have you write with less restraint : for, you must know, that what we admire in you, are truth and nature, not studied or elaborate epistles. We can hear at church, or read in our closets, fifty good things that we expect not from you ; but we cannot receive from any body else the pleasure of sentiments flowing with that artless ease^ which so much affects us when we read your let- ters. Then, my sweet girl, your gratitude, prudence, integrity of heart, your humility, shine so much in ;ill your letters and thoughts, that no wonder my brother loves you as he docs. But I shall make you proud, I doubt, and so by praise ruin those grace* See Letters I. II. III. of tli<: Second Tart, c; G 4 440 PAMELA. Lady Davers compliments Mrs. B. which we admire, and, but for that, cannot praise you too much. In my conscience, if thou canst hold as thou hast begun, I believe thou wilt have him all to thyself; and that was more than I once thought any woman on this side the seventieth year of his age would ever be able to say. The letters to and from your parents we are charmed with, and the commu- nicating of them to me I take to be as great an instance of your confi- dence in me, as it is of your judgment and prudence ; for you cannot but think, that we his relations are a little. watchful over your conduct, and have our eyes upon you, to observe what use you are likely to make of your power over your man, with respect to your own relations. Hitherto all is unexampled prudence, and you take the right method to reconcile even the proudest of us to your marriage, and make us not only love you, but respect your parents : for their honesty will, I perceive, be their distinguishing character, and they will not forget themselves, nor their former condition. I can tell you, you are exactly right ; for if you were to be an encroaeher^ as the good old man calls it, my brother would be the first to see it, and would gradually think less and less of you, till possibly he might come to despise you, and to repent of his choice : for the least shadow of an impo- sition, or low cunning, or mere selfishness, he cannot bear. In short, you are a charming girl ; and Lady Betty say3 so too ; and moreover adds, that if he makes you not the best an&faithfuUest of hus- bands, he cannot deserve you, for all his fortune and birth. And in my heart, I begin to think so too. But won't you oblige mt with the sequel of your letter to your father? For, you promise, my dear charming scribbler, in that you sent me, to write- again to his letter ; and I long to see how you answer the latter part of it, about your relations desiring already to come and live with him. I know what I expect from you. But let it be what it will, send it to me exactly as you wrote it ; and I shall see whether I have reason to praise or reprove you. For surely, Pamela, you must leave one room to blame you for something. Indeed I can hardly bear the thought, that voir should so much excel as you do, and have more prudence, by nature, as it were, than the best of us get in a course of the genteelest educations and with fifty advantages, at least, in conversation, that you could not have, by reason of my mother's retired life, while you were with her, and your close attendance on her person. But I'll tell you what has been a great improvement to you : it is your own writings. This itch of scribbling has been a charming help. For here, having a natural fund of good sense, and prudence above your years, you have, with the observations these have enabled you to make, been Hint and steel too, as I may say, to yourself : so that you have struck PAMELA. 441 in her excellent Style of Writing. , fire when you pleased, wanting nothing but a few dry leaves, like the first pair in old Du Bartas, to serve as tinder to catch your animating sparks. So that reading constantly, and thus using yourself to write, and enjoying besides a good memory, every thing you heard and read became your own ; and not only so, but was improved by passing through more salubrious ducts and vehicles ; like some fine fruit grafted upon a common freestock, whose more exuberant juices serve to bring to quicker and greater perfec- tion the downy peach, or the smooth nectarine, with its crimson blush. Really, Pamela, I believe I too shall improve by writing to you Why, you dear saucy.face, at this rate, you'll make every one that con- verses with you, better, and wiser, and wittier too, as far as I know, than 'tbeyever before thought there was room for 'em to be. As to my own part, I begin to like what I have written myself, I think ; and your correpondence may revive the poetical ideas that used to fire my mind before I entered into the drowsy married life ; for my good Lord Davers's turn happens not to be to books ; and so by degrees my imagination was in a manner quenched, and I, as a dutiful wife should, endeavoured to form my taste by that of the man I chose. But, after all, Pamela, you are not to be a little proud of my correspondence ; and I could not have thought it ever would have come to this ; but you will observe, that I am the more free and unreserved, to encourage you to write without restraint : for already you have made us a family of writers and readers ; so that Lord Davers himself is become enamoured of your letters, and desires of all things he may bear read every one that passes between us. Nay, Jackey, for that matter, who was the most thought- less, whistling, sauntering fellow you ever knew, and whose delight in a boqk ran no higher than a song or a catch, now comes in with an inquir- ing face, and vows he'll set pen to paper, and turn letter-writer himself; and intend* (if my brother won't take it amiss, he says) to begin to you, provided he could be sure of an answer. I have twenty things still to say ; for you have unlocked all our bosoms. And yet 1 intended not to write above ten or a dozen lines when 1 began - y only to tell you, that I would have you take your own way, in your sub- jects, and in your style. And if you will but give me hope, that you arc in the way I so much wish to have you in, I will then call myself your affectionate sister; but till then, in shall only barely be your correspondent, B. Da vers. You'll proceed with the account of your Kentish affair, I doubt not. LETTER XIII. MY DEAR (jnoi) I.ADY, \\ HAT kind, what generous things are you pleased to say of your happy correspondent! And what reason have 1 to value myself on such an 442 V A MELA. Letter from Mrs. N. to f.H<1y Davers, advantage as is now before me, if I am capable of improving it as I ought, from ;t correspondence with so noble and so admired a lady ! To be praised by such a genius, and my honoured benefactor's worthy sister, whose favour, next to his, it was always my chief ambition to obtain, is what would be enough to fill with vanity a steadier and a more equal mind than mine. t I have heard from my late honoured lady, what a fine pen her beloved daughter was mistress of, when she pleased to take it up. But I never could have presumed, but from your ladyship's own motion, to hope to be in any maimer the subject of it, much less to be called your corres>ondent Indeed, Madam, I am very proud of this honour, and consider it as such a heightening to my pleasures, as only that could give ; and I will set about obeying your ladyship without reserve. But, first, permit me to disclaim any merit, from my own poor writ- ings; to that improvement which your goodness imputes to me. What I have to boast, of that sort, is owing principally, if it deserves commenda- tion, to my late excellent lady. It is hard to be imagined what pains her ladyship took with her poor servant. Besides making me keep a book of her charities dispensed by me, I always set down, in my way, the cases of the distressed, their griefs from misfortunes, and their joys in her bountiful relief; and so I entered early into the various turns that affected worthy hearts, and was taught the better to regulate my own, especially by the help of her fine observa- tions, when I read what I wrote. For many a time has her generous heart overflowed with pleasure at my remarks, and with praises ; and I was her good girl, her dear Pamela, her hopeful maiden ; and she would some- times snatch my hand with transport, and draw me to her, and vouchsafe to kiss me ; and always was saying, what she would do for me, if God spared her, and I continued to be deserving. my dear lady ! you cannot think what an encouragement this con- descending behaviour and goodness was to me. Indeed, Madam, voir can- i'it think it. 1 used to throw myself at her feet, and embrace her knees; and, my eyes streaming with tears of joy, would often cry, " O continue to me, my dearest lady, the blessing of your favour, and kind instructions, and it is all your happy Pamela can wish for." But I will proceed to obey your ladyship, and write with as much free- dom as I possibly can : for you must not expect, that 1 can entirely divest myself of that awe which will necessarily lay me under a greater restraint than if writing to my parents, whose partiality for their daughter made me, in a manner, secure their good opinions. To .-.horten the work before' me, in the account I am to give of the s;vttt fortnight that we passed in Kern, I mclose not only the copy of PAMELA. v 443 ' . > giving further Particulars of th Kentish Visit. the letter your ladyship requested, out my father's answer to it, which, with those you have already, will comprise all you want to see in relation to the desire some of my kindred had to live with my father, and my own opinion on the occasion. And I am humbly confident you will join in sentiment with me : for persons art less doubtful of approbation, when their minds are incapable of dark reserves, or such views as they would be afraid should be detected by any watchful observer of their conduct : and your ladyship jives me double pleasure, that you are pleased to have an eye upon mine ; first, because I hope, it will be such as will generally bear the strictest scrutiny; and next, because, when my actions fall short of my intentions, I presume to hope your ladyship will be as kind a monitor to me, as you are a correspondent ; and then I shall have an opportunity to correct myself, and be, as near as my slender talents will permit, what you would have me to be. As the letters I sent before, and those I now send, will afford several particulars ; such as a brief description of the house and farm, and your honoured hrother's intention of retiring thither now and then ; of the happiness and gratitude of my dear parents, and their wishes to be able to deserve the comfort his' goodness has heaped upon them, and that in stronger lights than 1 am able to set them ; I will only, in a summary manner, mention the rest : and, particularly, that the behaviour of my dear benefactor to me, my parents, Mr. Longman, and the tenants, was one continued series of benignity arid condescension. He endeavoured, in every generous way, to encourage the good couple to be free ami cheerful with him ; and seeing them unable to get over that "awe and respect which they owe him above all mankind, and which they ought to pay him on all occasions, he would take their hands, and more than once call them by the nearest and dearest names of relationship, as if they were hi. own parents ; and 1 believe would have distinguished them oftener in this manner, but that he saw them too much affected with his goodness to bear the honour (as my dear father says in Ins first letter) with equalncss of temper ; and he seemed always to delight in being particularly kind to them before strangers, and before the tenants, and before Mr. Sorby, Mr. Bennet, and Mr. Shepherd, three of the principal gentlemen in "the neighbourhood, who, with their ladies, came to visit us, and whose visits we all returned ; for your dear brother would not permit my father and mother to decline the invitation of those worthy families. Judge you, my dear lady with what a joy these kind distinctions, ami his sweet behaviour must fill their honest hearts. Judge of my grateful sentiments and acknowledgments, of these hourly instances of his good- ness ; and judge of the respect a with which this must inspire every one for the good couple, And when once Mrs. Bennet had like to have said 444 PAMELA. Account of the Kentish Visit. ^ something of their former condition, which she would have recalled in some confusion, and when she could not, apologized* for it, the dear gen- tleman said, " All is well, Mrs. Rennet : no apologies are necessary ; and, to assure you they are not, I'll tell you myself what you cannot have heard so particularly from others, and which, were I to endeavour to con- ceal, would be a piece of pride as stupid as despicable." So, in a concise manner, he gave them an account of my story, so much to my advantage, and so little to his own, in the ingenuous relation of his attempts upon me, that you can't imagine, Madam, how much the gentry were affected by it, and how much, in particular, they applauded him for the gene- rosity of his actions to me, and to my dear parents. And your ladyship will permit me to observe, that since the matter is circumstanced as itts, policy, as well as nobleness of mind, obliged him to this frankness and acknowledgment ; for having said worse of himself, and as mean of my parents' fortunes, as any one could think, what remained for the hearers but to applaud, wheu be had left them no room to reproach, not so much as in thought ? Every day we rode out, or walked a little about the grounds ; and while we were there, he employed hands to cut .a vista through a coppice, as they call it, or rather a little wood, to a rising ground, which, fronting an old-fashioned balcony, in the middle of the house, he ordered it to be planted like a grove, and a pretty alcove to be erected on its summit, of which he has sent them a draught, drawn by his own hand. This and a few other alterations, mentioned in my letter to my father, are to be finished against we go down next. The dear gentleman was every hour pressing me, while there, to take one diversion or other, frequently upbraiding me, that I seemed not to choose any thing ; urging me to propose sometimes what I could wish he should oblige me in, and not always to leave it to him to choose for me : saying, he was half afraid that my constant compliance with every thing he proposed, laid me sometimes under a restraint : and he would have me have a will of my own, since it was impossible that it could be such as he should not take a delight in conforming to it. But, when (as I told him) his goodness to me made him rather study what would oblige me than himself, e\en to the prevention of all my wishes, how was it possible for me not to receive with pleasure and gra- titude every intimation from him, in such a manner as that, though it might seem to be the effect of an implicit obedience to his will, yet was it 'nor could it be otherwise) entire!,, agreeable to my own ! I will not trouble your ladyship with any further particulars relating to this happy fortnight, which was made up all of white and unclouded days, to the very last j and your ladyship will judge better than I can describe PAMELA. 445 letter from Mjj. B. to hady Davers. of the parting between my dear parents, and their honoured benefactor u:d me. We set out, attended with the good wishes of crowds of persons of all degrees ; for your dear brother left behind him noble instances of his bounty; it being - the Jirst time, as he bid Mr. Longman say, that he had been down among them since that estate had been in his hands. But permit me to observe, that I could not forbear often, very often, in this happy period, to thank God in private for the blessed terms upon which I was there, to what I should have been, had i gracelessly accepted of those which formerly were tendered to me ; for your ladyship will remember, that the Kentish estate was to be part o( the purchase of my infamy. We retttrned through London, by the like easy journeys, hut tarried not to see any thing of that vast metropolis, any more than we did in going through it before ; your beloved brother only stopping at his banker's, and desiring him to look out for a handsome house, which he purposes to take for his winter residence. He chooses it to be about the new build- ings called Hanover Square ; and he left Mr. Longman there to see oJ>e, which his banker believed would be fit for him. And thus, my dear lady, I have answered your first commands, by the help of the letters which passed between my dear parents and me ; and conclude this with the assurance that I am, with high respect, your ladif- thip's mott obliged ami faithful servant, P. B. LETTER XIV. MY DEAREST LADY, I NOW set myself to obey your ladyship's second command, which Is, to give an account in what manner your dear brother broke to me the affair of the unfortunate Miss Godfrey, with my behaviour upon it ; and this I cannot do better, than by transcribing the relation I gave at that time, in letters to my dear parent-, which your ladyship has not seen, in these very words. f^re p. 386, beginning, " My dear Mr. B." down to p. 395] Thus far, my dear lady, the relation 1 gave to my parents, at the time u f my being first acquainted with this melancholy affair. It is a great pleasure to me, that i can already flatter myself from tbe hints you kindly give me, that I behaved as you wished 1 should behave. Indeed, Madam, 1 could not help it, for I pitied most sincerely the un- happy lady; and though I could not bat rejoice, that I bad bad the grace to escape the dangerous attempts of the dear intriguer, yet nev< r did the story of an unfortunate lady make such an impression upon me as her's did : she loved him, and believed, no doubt, he loved her too well to tale 446 PAMELA. * ' ' . ' ' : ' . letter from Mrs. B. to Lady Pavers, ungenerous advantages of her soft passion for him : and so, by degrees, put herself into his power ; and too seldom, alas ! have the noblest minded of the seducing sex the mercy er the goodness to spare the poor creatures that do '. And then this love, to he sure, is a sad thing, when once it is suffered to reign ; a perfect tyrant ! requiring an unconditional obedi- ence to its arbitrary dictates, and deeming every instance of discretion and prudence, and virtue itself, too often, but as so many acts of rebellion to its usurped authority. And then, how do even blemishes become perfections in those .we love ? Crimes themselves too often, to inconsiderate minds, appear but as human failings : and human failings are a common cause, and every frail person excuses them for his or her own sake. Then 'tis another misfortune of people in love ; they always think highly of the beloved object, and lowly of themselves ; such a dismal mor- tirier is love I I say not this, Madam, to excuse the poor lady's fall : nothing can do that ; because virtue is, and ought to be, preferable to all considerations, and to life itself. But, raethinks, I love this dear lady so well for the sake of her edifying penitence, that I would fain extenuate her crime, if I could ; and the rather, as, in all probability, it was a first love on both sides ; and so he could not appear to her as a practised deceiver. Your ladyship will see, by what 1 have transcribed, how I behaved myself to the dear Miss Goodwin ; and I am so fond of the little charmer, as well for the sake of her unhappy mother, though personally unknown to me, as for the relation she bears to the dear gentleman whom I am bound to love and honour, that I must beg your ladyship's interest to procure her to he given up to my care, when it shall be thought proper. I am s,ure I shall act by her as tenderly as if I was her own mother. And glad I am, that the poor unfaulty baby is so justly beloved by Mr. B. But I will here conclude this letter, with assuriog your ladyship, tint I am your obliged and humble servant, P. B. LETTER XV. MY HOOD LADY, I NOW come to your ladyship's remarks on my conduct to Mrs. Jewkes ; which you are pleased to think too kind and forgiving considering the poor woman's baseness. Your ladyship says, that I ought not to have borne her in my sight, after the impudent assistance she gave to his lewd attempts ; much less to have left lu:r in her place, and rewarded her. Alas '. my dear lady, what could 1 do? a poor prisoner as I was made, for weeks together, in breach of all the laws of civil society: without a soul who durst be my friend , and PAMELA. 447 shewing licr Reasons for forgiving .Mrs. Jewltci. every day expecting to be ruined and undone, by one of the haughtiest and most determined spirits in the world ! and when it pleased God to turn his heart, and incline him to abandon his wicked attempts, and to profess honourable love to me, his poor servant, can it be thought I was to insist upon conditions with such a gentleman, who had me in his power; and who, if I had provoked him, might have resumed all hit wicked purposes against me ? Indeed, I was too much overjoyed, after all my dangers past (which were so great, that I could not go to rest, nor rise, but with such appre- hensions, that I wished tor death rather than life} to think of refusing any terms that I oould yield to, and keep my honour. And though such noble lad'es, a 3 your ladyship and lady Hetty, who are born to independency, and are hereditarily, as I may say, on a foot with the highest descended gentleman in the land, might have exerted a spirit, And would have had a light to choose your own servant", and to distribute rewards and punishments to the deserving and undeserving, at your own good pleasure; yet what had I, a poor'girl, who owed even my title to common notice to the bounty of my late good lady, and had only a kind of imputed sightliness of person, though enough to make me the subject of vile attempts ; who, from a situation of terror and apprehension, was lifted up r<> a hope beyond rav highest ambition, and was bid to pardon the bad woman, as an instance that I could forgive his own hacd usage of me ; who bad experienced so often the violence and impetuosity of hi* temper, which even hi* beloved mother never ventured to oppose till it began to subside, and then, indeed, he was all goodness and acknowledg- ment ; of which 1 ((Mild give \our ladyship more than one instance. What, 1 say, had 1 to do, to take upon me lady airs, and to resent ? Kut, my dear ladies let me, in this instance, bespeak fhe attention of you both, 1 should be inexcusable, if 1 did not tell you all the truth ; and that is, tha^I not only forgase the poor wretch, in regard to hit conutumds, I. ut from mi/ own inclination also. Ill am wrong in saying this, I nm,i submit it to your ladyship"! , and, as I pretend not to perfection, am ready to take the hi one 1 di serve in your ladyships' judgments : but indeed, wen it ti b<- again, I verily think, I could not help forgiving her. \iid were I i.ot able to say this, I should be thought to have made \ mean court to my master's passions, and to have done a wrong thin:; with my eyes open : which I humbly conceive no one should do. When full power was given me over this poor creature (seemingly at least, though it might possibly have been resumed, and 1 might have been recommitted to hers, had 1 given him reason to think I made an arrogant use of it} }'uu cannot imagine what a triumph 1 had in my mind over the mortified guilt, which (from the highest degree of insole nee and 448 PAMELA. , * . Mrs. K.'s Krasons for foi'givins; Mrs. Jewkes. imperiousness, that before had hardened her masculine features) ap- peared in her countenance, when she found the tables likely to be soon turned upon her. This change of behaviour, which at first discovered itself in a sullen awe, and afterwards in a kind of silent respect, shewed me, what an influ- ence power had over her : and that when she could treat her late prisoner, when taken into favour, so obsequiously, it was the less wonder the bad woman could think it her duty to obey commands so unjust, when her obedience to them was required from her master. To be sure, if a look could have killed her, after some of her bad treat- ment, she would have been slain over and over, as I may say : but to me, who was always taught to distinguish between the person and the action, I could not hold my resentment against the poor passive machine of mischief, one day together, though her actions were so odious to me. I should indeed except that time of my grand trial, when she appeared so much a wretch to me, that I saw her not (even after two days that she was kept from me) without great flutter and emotion of heart ; and I had represented to your brother before, how hard a condition it was for me to forgive so much unwomanlv wickedness. t But, my dear ladies, when I considered the matter in one particular light, I could the more easily forgive her; and having forgiven her, bear her in my sight, and act by her (as a consequence of that forgiveness) as if she had not so horribly offended. Else how would it have been forgive- ness ? especially as she was ashamed of her crime, and there was no fear dt' her repeating it. Thus then 1 thought on the occasion : " Poor wretched agent, for pur- poses little less than infernal ! I will forgive thee, since thy master and in;/ master will have it so. And indeed thou art beneath the resentment even of inch a poor girl as I. I will pity thee, base and abject as thou art. And she who is the object of my pity is surely beneath my atiger. My eye, that used to quiver and tremble at thy haughty eye, shall now, with conscious worthiness, take a superior steadiness, and look down the scowling guilty one into self-condemnation, the state thou couldst never cast me into, nor from it will be able to raise thine own ! Bear the reproach of thine own wicked heart, low, vile woman, unworthy as thou art of the name, and chosen, as it should seem, for a foil to the innocent, and to make purity shine forth the brighter, the only good use such wretches as thou can be to others (except for examples of penitence and mercy :) this will be punishment enough for thee, without exposing myself to the im- putation of descending so near to a level with thee, as to resent thy base- ness when thou hast no power to hurt me !" Such were then my thoughts, my proud thoughts, so far was I from PAMELA. 449 Mrs. B.*i Reasons for forgiving Mrs. Jewkes. being guilty of intentional meanness in forgiving, at Mr. B.'s interposition, the poor, low, creeping, abject, *ey-mortified, and wiarfer-mortified Mrs. Jewkes. And do you think, ladies, when you revolve in your thoughts, who I was, and what I was, and what I had been designed for ; when you revolve the amazing turn in my favour, and the prospects before me (so much above my hopes, that I left them entirely to Providence to direct for me, as it pleased, without daring to look forward to what those prospects seemed naturally to tend ;) when I could see my haughty persecutor become my repentant protector ; the lofty spirit that used to make me tremble, and to which I never could look up without awe, except in those animating cases, where his guilty attempts, and the concern I had to preserve my innocence-, gave a courage more than natural to my other- wise dastardly heart : when this impetuous spirit could stoop to request one whom he had sunk beneath even her usual low character of his ser- vant, who was his prisoner, under his sentenae of a ruin worse than death, as he had intended it, and had seized ber for that very purpose, could stoop to acknowledge the vileness ef that purpose ; could say, at one time, that my forgiveness of Mrs, Jewkes should stand me in greater stead than I was aware of: could tell her, before me, that she must for the future shew me all the respect due to one he must love ; at another, acknowledged before her that he had been staxk naught, and that I was very forgiving ; again, to Mrs. Jewkes, putting himself on a level with her, as to guilt, " We are both in generous hands : and, indeed, if Pa- mela did not pardon you, I should think she but half forgave me, because you acted by my instructions ;" another time to the same, " We have been both sinners, and must be both included in one act of grace :" when I was thus lifted up to the state of a sovereign forgiver, and my lordly master became a petitioner for himself, and the guilty creature, whom he put under my feet ; what a triumph was here for the poor Pamela! and could I have been guilty of so mean a pride, as to trample upon the poor abject creature, when 1 found her thus lowly, thus morti- fied, and wholly in my power ? For so she seemed actually to be, while I really thought so : and would it have been good manners, with regard to my ma.ter, or policy with respect to myself, to doubt it, after he had so declared ? Then, my dear ladies, while I was enjoying the soul charming fruits of that innocence which the Divine Grace had enabled me to preserve, in pite of so many plots and contrivances on my master's side, ami ' K.asoiis for forgivini; Mrs. .lewkt deuce, which hal been so gracious to my unworthiness ; when I saw my persecutor become my protector, my active enemy no longer my enemy, but creeping with slow, doubtful feet, and speaking to me with awful hesitating doubt of my acceptance ; a stamp of an insolent foot now turned into curtseying half-bent knees ; threatening hands into suppli- cating folds ; and the eye unpitying to innocence running over with the sense of her own guilt ; a faltering accent on her late menacing tongue, and uplifted handkerchief, " I see she will be my lady : and then 1 know how it will go with me '" Was not this, my ladies, a triumph of triumphs to the late miserable, now exalted Pamela? Could I do less than pardon her ? And having declared that I did so, was I not to shew the sincerity of my declaration ? Indeed I found such a subject for exultation in this providential change of my condition, that I had much ado to subdue my rising pride, and thought there was more danger of being lifted up (every moment, to see such improving condition on the poor creature's part) than to be sup- posed guilty of a meanness of heart in stoojring (yes, Madam, that was then the proudly proper word, in the elevation wherein I found myself) to forgive her ! And, what ! should I not forgive a creature for that very baseness which, happily withstood, had so largely contributed to exalt me ? Indeed, my dear ladies, permit me to repeat, I could not choose but to forgive her! How could I? And would it not have been out of character in me, and against all expectation of my high souled (though sometimes, as in my case, meanly-acting) master, if I had not? Would it not have shewn him, that the low-born Pamela was incapable of a generous action, had she refused the only request" her humble condi- tion had given her the opportunity of granting, at that time, with inno- cence ! Would he not have thought the humble cottager as capable of insolence, and vengeance too, in her turn, as the better born ? and that she wanted but the power, to shew the like unrelenting temper, by which she had so grievously suffered ? And might not this have given him room to think me (and to have resumed and prosecuted his purposes accordingly, litter for an arrogant kept mistress, than a humble and obliged wife ! * " 1 see" (niij>'ht he not have said?) " the girl has strong passions and resentments; and she that has, will be sometimes governed by them. I will improve upon the hint she herself has now givn me, by her inexora- ble temper: 1 will gratify lit r revenge, till 1 turn it upon herself: I will indulge her pride, till 1 make it administer to her fall ; for a wife I cannot think of in the low-born cottager, especially when she has lurking in her all the pride and arrogance" (you know,, my -ladies, his haughty way of speaking of our sex; " of the better descended. And by a little perseve- PAMELA. 451 Mrs. B.'s Reasons lor forgiving Mrs. Jewkcs. rance, and watching her unguarded hours, and applying temptations to her passions, I shall first discover them, and then make my advantage of them." Might not this have been the language, and this the resolution, of such a dear wicked intriguer ? For, my lady, you can hardly conceive the struggles he apparently had to bring down his high spirit to so humble a level. And though, I hope, all would have been, even in this worst case, ineffectual, through Divine Grace, yet how do 1 know what lurking vile- ness might have appeared in degrees in this frail heart, to encourage his designs, and to augment my trials and my dangers ? And perhaps down- right violence might have been used, if he could not, on one hand, have subdued his passions, nor, on the other, have overcome his pride a pride, that every one, reflecting upon the disparity of birth and condition between us, would have dignified with the name of decency , a pride that was become such an essential part of the dear gentleman's character, in this instance of a wife, that although he knew he could not keep it up, if he made me happy, yet it was no small motive of his choosing me, in one respect, because he expected from me more humility, more submission, than he thought would be paid him by a lady equally born and educated ; and of this I will send you an instance, in a transcription from that part of my journal you have not seen, of his lessons to me, on my incurring his displeasure by interposing between yourself and him in your misunder- standing at the hall : for, Madam, I intend to send, at times, any thing I think worthy of your ladyship's attention, out of those papers you were so kind as to excuse me from sending you in the lump, and many of which must needs have appeared very impertinent to such judges. Thus (could your ladyship have thought it ?) have I ventured upon n strange paradox, that even this strongest instance of his debasing himself, is not the weakest of his pride; and he ventured once at Sir. Simon Darnford's to say, in your hearing, as you may remember, that, in bis conscience, he thought he should hardly h.i\e made a tolerable husband to anybody but Pamela: and why? For the reasons you will see !n the inclosed papers, which give an account of the noblest and earliest cur- tain lecture thdt ever girl had : one of which is, that he expects to be borne with [complied with, he meant) even when in the wrong: another, that a wife should never so much as expostulate with him, though he was in the wrong, till, by complying with all he incited upon, she should have shewn him, she designed rather to convince him. for his mt n sake, than for contradiction's sake ; and then, another time , perhaps he might take better resolutions. I hope, from what 1 have said, it will appear to your ladyship, and to Lad) B'tty too, that I am justified, or at lea-it excused, in pardoning li n I 452 IM.MELA. Mis. B.'a Reasons for forgiving Mrs. Jewkes. i ' ~ Mrs. Jewkes : and I have yet another reason for doing so, had she been as absolutely in my power as the wish of the most resenting person in the world could have made her ; and that is, the hope I had, that the poor creature, by being continued in a family where the gentleman gave hopes of so desirable a reformation, and where the example of the person he was about to honour in so eminent a degree, beyond all that could have been hoped for by her a few days before, might possibly contribute to make her change her manner of thinking, as well as acting. I looked upon the poor wretch, in all her deportment to me, in my days of trial, as one devoted to perdition ; as one who had no regard to a future state ; but while she could live in ease and plenty for a poor remainder of years ; cared not what she did, and was ready to undertake any thing which persons of power and riches would put her upon ; and who, were she to be turned off disgracefully, at my desire, besides that I should thereby shew myself to be of an implacable spirit, might have been enter- tained by some profligate persons, to whose baseness such a woman might be useful ; and that then her power to do mischief would have been aug- mented, and she would have gone on more successfully to do the devil's work ; and several innocent creatures might have been entangled, like so many thoughtless flies, in the ensnaring web of this venomous hearted spider, which I had so happily escaped. " Is it not better, then," thought I, " if I can imprint conviction upon the poor wretch," whom its hopeful forerunner shame had already taken hold of, " and add the delightful hope of mischief prevented, to that of a soul reclaimed ? And may not I, who have been so hardly used by her, for that very reason have more influ- ence upon her than any other person, even the best of divines, could have?" Nay, would not this behaviour of mine, very probably, operate on a much higher and nobler subject, her dear naughty master, and let him see the force and amiableness of conquering one's self? that there must be something in that duty which could make so young a creature regard it, in an instance so difficult to some minds (and especially to the pas- sionate and high-born) that of forgiving injuries, where there is a power to revenge, and of returning good for evil ? And then, when no sullen behaviour to the poor wrttch, on my side, took placw ; no distant airs were affected, no angry brow put on, nor sharpness of speech used, towards one who might expect all these from me ; would it not shew him that I was sincere in my forgiveness ? that I was not able to bear malice ? was a stranger to revenge ? had truly that softness of nature, and placableness of disposition, which he holds to be the greatest merit in our sex and which, I dare say, your ladyship will join with me in opinion, as indispensably necessary to the happy lift! of the person who is his wife ? PAMELA. 453 Mrs. B.'s Reasons for forgiving Mr;, .lewkes. Then I have no notion of that slight distinction I have so often heard between forgive and forget, when persons have a mind to split hairs, and to distinguish away their Christian duties by a word, and say, " / must forgive such an action, but I will never forget it :" when I would rather say, " / will remember suck an action, in order for my future guard ; but / will forgive it as often as I remember it : or else I will try to forget it for ever, if it will occasion a breach in my Oiristian charity." I will only add, that I thought it would not be wrong to keep her, as, besides what I have mentioned, it would induce the world to think, that Mr. B. had not gone such very wicked lengths, as might have been ima- gined, if she had not been supportable to me in the same house. And who knows, moreover, what she might have reported of both, had she been dismissed ? How, then, dearest ladies, if these considerations have any weight, could I act any otherwise than I did, either with respect to your honoured bro- ther, myself, or the poor woman ? And when I tell you that I have all the reason in the world to be pleased with this manner of acting, when I consider the confidence it has given me with Mr. B. and (what I was very desirous of) the good effects it hath had upon the woman herself, I dare say, both your ladyships' opinions will be in my favour on this head. But your dear brother has just sent me word, that supper waits for me : and the post being ready to go off, I defer till the next opportunity what I have to say as to these good effects : and am, in the mean time, your Jady ship's most obliged and faithful servant, P. B. LETTER XVI. MY DEAR LAOY, I WILL now acquaint you with the good effects my behaviour to Mrs. Jewkes has had upon her, as a farther justification of my conduct towards the poor woman. That she began to be affected as I wished, appeared to me before I left the hall, not only in the conversations I had with her after my happiness was completed ; but in her general demeanour also to the servants, to the neighbours, and in her devout behaviour at church : and this still further appears by a letter I have received from Miss Damford. I dare say your ladyship will be pleased with the perusal of the whole letter, although a part of it would answer my present design ; and in confidence that you will excuse, for the sake of its other beauties, the high and undeserved praises which she so lavishly bestow* upon mp, I will tran- scribe it all. 454 PAMELA. I-cttcr from Alias Darnford to Mrs. B. " From Miss Darrifurd to Mrs. D. " MY DF.AK NEIGHBOUR THAT WAS, " I MUST depend upon your known goodness to excuse me for not writing before now, in answer to your letter of compliment to us, for the civilities and favours, as you call them, which you received from us in Lincolnshire, where we were infinitely more obliged to you than you to us. " The truth is, my papa has been mueh disordered with a kind of rambling rheumatism, to which the physicians, learnedly speaking, give the name of arthritis vaga, or the flying gout ; and when he ails ever so little (it signifies nothing concealing his infirmities, where they are so well known, and when he cares not who knows them) he is so peevish, and wants so much attendance, that my mamma, and her two girls Tone of which is as waspish as her papa; you may be sure I don't mean myself) have much ado to make his worship keep the peace : and I being his favourite, when he is indisposed, having most patience, if I may give myself a good word, he calls upon me continually, to read to him when he is grave, which is not often, and to tell him stories, and to sing to him when he is merry; and so I have been employed as a, principal person about him, till I have frequently become sad to make him cheerful, and happy when I could do it at any rate. For once, in a pet, he flung a book at my head, because I had not attended him for two hours, and he could not bear to be slighted by little bastards, that was his word, that were fathered upon him for his vexation '. () these men ! Fathers or hus- bands, much alike! the one tyrannical, the other insolent: so that, between one and t'other, a poor girl has nothing for it, but a few weeks' courtship, and perhaps a first month's bridalry, if that : and then she is as much a slave to her husband, as she was a vassal to her father I mean if the lather be a Sir Simon Darnford, and the spouse a Mr. B. " But I will be a little more grave ; for a graver occasion calls for it, yet such as will give you real pleasure. It is the very great change that your example has had upon your housekeeper. " You desired her to keep up as much regularity as she could among the servants there ; and she is next to exemplary in it, so that she has every one's good word. She speaks of her lady not only with respect, but reverence ; and calls it a blessed day for all the family, and particularly for herself, that you came into Lincolnshire. She reads prayers, or makes one of the senajits read them, every Sunday night; and never misses being at churcfi, morning and afternoon ; and is preparing herself, by Mr. Peters's advice and direction, for receiving the sacrament; which she earnestly longs to receive, and says it will be the seal of her reformation. " Mr. Peters gives us this account of her, and says she is full of contri- tion for her past niispent life, and is often asking him, if such and such PAMELA. 455 m , . - . . . giving her Particulars of Mrs. Jewkes's Reformation. " J sins can be forgiven ? and among them, names her vile behaviour to her angel lady, as she calls you. " It seems she has written a letter to you, which passed Mr. Peter's revisal, before she had the courage to send it ; and prides herself that you have favoured her with an answer to it, which, she says, when she is dead, will be found in a cover of black silk next her heart ; for any thing from your hand, she is sure, will contribute to make her keep her good pur- poses : and for that reason she places it there : and when she has had any bad thoughts, or is guilty of any faulty word, or passionate expression, she recollects her lady's letter, which recovers her to a calm, and puts her again into a better frame. " As she has written to you 'tis possible I might have spared you the trouble of reading this' account of her : but yet you will not be displeased, that so free a liver and speaker should have some testimonial besides her own assurances, to vouch for the sincerity of her reformation. " What a happy lady are you, that persuasion dwells upon your tongue, and reformation follows your example ! We all hear continually of your excellences. Every body is proud of speaking of you, and of having something to say of what thty observe in you. This makes us long more and more to see you here again. My papa, t'other day, said he wished you'd undertake him. " This is not the least of what is admirable in you, that professed rakes and libertines, who take upon themselves to ridicule seriousness in every body else, speak of you with reverence ; and while they attribute phara- saical pride or affectation, or hypocrisy, to other good persons, they say, you are a credit to religion, and that adorns you and you that. " Happy, thrice happy Mrs. B. ! May you long live the ornament of your sex, and a credit to all your acquaintance ! Such examples as you set, how are they wanted in an age so depraved '. I fear not making you proud, since praise but puts the worthy upon enlarging their deserrings : for who, as I heard you once say, can sit down easy tinder imputed com- mendations they do not duserve ? It they will not disclaim the praise they have not merited, when applied to their conduct, they give an ear- nest, by receiving it, that they will endeavour to do it, and ought never to rest till thty have made themselves a title to it. " Happy Mr. 11. ! Hut why -ay I so ! since, with more propriety, I may sa\ , happy i:\ try one who sees, who knows, who comerses with Mrs. B. ; not more the glory ol (he humble cot, than the ornament of the stately palace ! " If you I. new how 1 love you, you would favour me with your presence and conversation, it it was in your own power to do so; and then 1 would rank m\ >< li amont: the happiest, and call tny-e.ll the /ui/>/n/ Polly Uarsfopd. h h 1 456 PAMELA. - : . . w | | | ' 1 - Letter from Mrs. Jewkes to Mrs. B. Your ladyship will, as I said, forgive me what may appear like vanity in ^this communication. Miss Darnford is a charming young lady. I always admired her ; but her letters are the sweetest, kindest ! Yet I am too much the subject of her encomiums, and so will say no more ; but add here a copy of the poor woman's letter to me ; and your ladyship will see what an ample correspondence you hare opened to yourself, if you go on to countenance it. " HONOURED MADAM, " I HAVE been long labouring under two difficulties ; the desire I had to write you, and the fear of being thought presumptuous if I did. But I will depend on your goodness, so often tried} and put pen to paper, in that very closet, and on that desk, which once were so much used by yourself, when I was acting a part that now cuts me to the heart to think of. But you forgave me, Madam, and shewed me you had too much good- ness to revoke your forgiveness ; and could I have silenced the reproaches of my heart, I should have had no cause to think 1 had offended. " But, O Madam, how has your goodness to me, which once filled me with so much gladness, now, on reflection, made me sorrowful, and at times, miserable. To think I should act so barbarously as I did, by so much sweetness, and so much forgiveness. Every place that I remember to have used you hardly in, how does it now fill me with sadness, and makes me often smite my breast, and sit down with tears and groans, bemoaning my vile actions, and my hard heart How many places are there in this melancholy fine house, that call one thing or other to my remembrance, that give me remorse ! But the pond, and the wood-house, whence I dragged you so mercilessly, after I had driven you to despair almost, what thoughts do they bring to my remembrance ! Then my wicked instigations What an odious wretch was I ! " Had his honour been as abandoned as myself, what virtue had been destroyed between his orders and my too rigorous execution of them ; nay, stretching them to shew my wicked zeal, to serve a master, whom, though I honoured, I should not (as you more than once hinted to me, but with no effect at all, so resolutely wicked was my heart) have so well obeyed in his unlawful commands ! " His honour has made you amends, has done justice to your merits, and so atoned for his fault. But as for me, it is out of my power ever to make reparation. All that is left me, is, to let your ladyship see, that your pious example has made such an impression upon me, that I am miserable now in the reflection upon my past guilt. " You have forgiven me, and GOD will, I hope ; for the creature cannot be more merciful than the Creator ; that is all my hope ! Yet, PAMELA. 457 Letter from Mr?. Jewkes to Mrs. B, sometimes, I dread that 1 am forgiven here, at least sot punished, in order to be punished the more hereafter ! What then will become of the unhappy wretch, that has thus lived in a state of sin, and so qualified herself by a course of wickedness, as to be thought a proper instrument for the worst of purposes ! *' Pray your ladyship, let not my honoured master see this letter- He will think I have the boldness to reflect upon him ; when, God knows my heart, I only write to condemn myself, and my unwomanly actions, as you were pleased often most justly to call them. " But I might go on thus for ever accusing myself, not considering whom I am writing to, and whose precious time I am taking up. But what I chiefly write for is, to beg your ladyship's prayers for me. For, O Madam, I fear I shall else be ever miserable 1 We every week hear of the good you do, and the charity you extend to the bodies of the miserable. Extend, I beseech you, good Madam, to the unhappy Jewkes, the mercy of your prayers, and tell me if you think I have not sinned beyond hope of pardon ; for there is a woe denounced against the presumptuous sinner. " Vour ladyship assured me, at your departure, on the confession of my remorse for my misdoings, and my promise of amendment, that you would take it for proof of my being in earnest, if 1 would endeavour to keep up a regularity among the servants here ; if I would subdue them with kindness, as I had owned myself subdued ; and if I would endeavour to make every one think, that the best security they could give of doing their duty to their master in his absence, was by doing it to God Almighty, from whose all-seeing eye nothing can be hid. This, I remember, your lady- ship told me, was the best test of fidelity and duty, that any servants could shew ; since it was impossible, without religion, but that worldly conveni- ence, or self-interest, must be the main tie; and so the worst actions might succeed, if servants thought they should find their sordid advan- tage in sacrificing their duty. " So well am I convinced of this truth, that I hope I have begun the example to good effect : and as no one in the family was so wicked as I, it w,as therefore less difficult to reform them ; and you will have the pleasure to know, that you have now servants here, whom you need not be ashamed to call yours. " Tis true, I found it a little difficult at first to keep them within si^ht of their duty, after your ladyship departed : but when they saw I was in earnest, and used them courteously, as you advised, and as your usage of me convinced me was the rightest usage ; when they were told I had your commands to acquaint you how they conformed to your injunctions ; the task became easy : and I hope we shall all be still more and more worthy of the favour of so good a lady and so bountiful a master. " I dare not presume upon the honour of a line to your unworthy ser- 458 PAMELA. r -SJSiJ ' "' ',' !!" ; t . m Mrs. B.'s Reasons for forgiviiic Mrs. .lev km. vast. Yet it would pride me much, if 1 could have it. But I shall ever pray for your ladyship'.* and his honour's felicity, as becomes your unde- serving servant, K. Jewkes." I have already, with these transcribed letters of Miss Darnford and Mrs. Jewkes, written a great deal -. but nevertheless, as there yet remains one passage in your ladyship's letter, relating to Mrs. Jewkes, that seems to require an answer, I will take notice of it, if I shall not quite tire your patience. That passage is this ; Lady Betty rightly observes, says your ladyship, that he knew what a vile woman she [Mrs. Jewkes] was, when he put you into her power ; and no doubt, employed her, because he was sure she would answer all his purposes : and therefore she should have had very little opinion of the sincerity of his reformation, while he was so solicitous in keeping her there. She would, she says, had she been in your case, have had one struggle for her dismission, let it have been taken as it would; and he that was so well pleased with your virtue, must have thought this a natural conse- quence of it, if in earnest to become virtuous himself. But, alas! Madam, he was not so well pleased with my virtue for virtue's sake, as Lady Betty thinks he was. He would have been glad, even then, to have found me less resolved on that score. He did not so much as pretend to any disposition to virtue. No, not he ! He had entertained, as he proved, a strong passion for me, which had been heightened by my resisting it. His pride, and his advantages both of person and fortune, would not let him brook control ; and when be could not have me upon his own terms, God turned his evil purposes to good ones ; and he resolved to submit to mine, or rather to such as he found I would not yield to him without. For all this time I had no terms to propose. Neither my low fortune, my unjust captivity, my sex, nor unexperienced youth (not a friend near me, whose advice I could ask) permitted me to oiler any terms to him, had I been disposed to have disputed his will, or his intercession for the woman, which, I have said, I was not. I had but one steady purpose to adhere to, and having grace given me to adhere to that, he resolved, since he could not conquer his passion for me, to make me his with honour. But still I doubt, as I said, this was not for the love of virtue at that time. That came afterwards, and I hope will always b his governing motive, in his future actions, and then I shall be happy indeed. But Lady Betty thinks 1 was to blame to put Mrs. Jewkes upon a foot, in the present I made on my nuptials, with Mrs. Jervjs. But I rather put Mrs. Jervis on a foot with Mrs. Jewkes; for the dear gentleman had narmd the sum for me to give Mrs. Jewkes, and I would not give Mrs. PAMELA. 459 .Mrs. B. enquires into Mrs. .lervis'j Circumstances. m \ - m Jervis less, because 1 loved her better ; nor more could I give her, on that occasion, without making such a difference between two persons equal in station, on a solemnity too where one was present and assisting 1 , the other not," as would have shewn such a partiality, as might have induced their master to conclude, I was not so sincere in my forgiveness, as he hoped from me, and as I really was. But a stronger reason still was behind ; that I could, much more agree- ably, both to Mrs. Jervis and myself, shew my love and gratitude to the dear good woman : and this I have taken care to do, in the manner I will submit to your ladyship ; at the tribunal of whose judgment I am willing all my actions, respecting your dear brother, shall be tried. And I hope you will not have reason to think me a too profuse or lavish creature ; yet, if you have, pray, my dear lady, don't spare me ; for if you shall judge me profuse in one article, I will endeavour to save it in another. But I will make what I have to say on this head the subject of a letter by itself : and am, mean time, your ladyship's most obliged atid obedient servant, P. B. LETTER XVII. MY DF.Art LADY, IT is needful, in order to let you more intelligibly into the subject where I left off in my last, for your ladyship to know, that your generous brother has made me his almoner, as I was my late dear lady's ; and ordered Mr. Longman to pay me fifty pounds quarterly, for purposes of which he requires no account, though I have one always ready to produce ; he has given me other sums to enable me to do all the good I can to dis- tressed objects, at my first setting out. And your ladyship knows not how many honest hearts I have made glad already, and how many more I hope to rejoice before a year is at an end, and yet keep within my limits. Now, Madam, as I knew Mrs. .Jervis was far from being easy in her circumstance?, thinking herself obliged to pay old debts for two extrava gant children, who arc' both dead, and maintaining in schooling and clothes three? of their children, which always keeps her hare, I said to her one day, as she and I sat together at our needles ffor we are always running over old store -, when alone) " My good Mrs. Jervis, will you allow me to ask you after your own private affairs, ami if sou are fule- rahly easy in them ?" " Von arc very good, Madam," said she, " to concern \ourvlf about my poor matters, so much as your thoughts are employed, and every moment of your time is taken up, i'roi the hour vc>u ri.-<- to (lie time of < our re.st. But I can with gre;u pleasure attribute it to your bounty, and *h..t of mj honoured master, that I am easier and cash r every day." 460 PAMELA. Mrs. B. enquire* into Mrs. Jervis's Circumstances. " But tell me, my dear Mrs. Jervis," said I, " how your matters parti- cularly stand. I love to mingle concerns with my friends, and as I hide nothing from you, I hope you'll treat me with equal freedom ; for X always loved you, and always will ; and nothing but death shall divide our friendship." She had tears of gratitnde in her eyes, and taking off her spectacles, '* I cannot bear," said she, " so much goodness ! O my lady !" " O my Pamela, say," replied I. " How often must I chide you for calling me any thing but your Pamela, when we are alone together ?" " My heart," said she, "will burst with your goodness! I cannot bear it \" " But you must bear it, and bear still greater exercises to your grate- ful heart, I can tell you that. A pretty thing, truly ! Here I, a poor helpless girl, raised from poverty and distress by the generosity of the best of men, only because 1 was young and sightly, shall put on lady-airs to a gentlewoman born, the wisdom of whose years, her faithful services, and good management, make her a much greater merit in this family than I can pretend to have ! And shall I return, in the day of my power, insult and haughtiness for the kindness and benevolence I received from her in that of my indigence ! Indeed, I won't forgive you, my dear Mrs. Jervis, if I think you capable of looking upon me in any other light than as your daughter; for you have been a mother to me, when the absence of my own could not afford me the comfort and good counsel I received every day from you." Then moving my chair nearer, and taking her hand, and wiping, with my handkerchief in my other, her reverend cheek, " Come, my dear second mother," said I, " call" me your daughter, your Pamela: I have passed many sweet hours with you under that name; and as I have but too seldom such an opportunity as this, open to me your worthy heart, and let me know, if I cannot make my second mother as easy and happy as our dear master has made my Jirst." She hung her head, and I waited till the discharge of her tears gave time for utterance to her words ; provoking only her speech, by saying, " You used to have three grand-children to provide for in clothes and schooling. They are all living, I hope ?" " Yes, Madam, they are living: and your last bounty (twenty guineas was a great sum, and all at once !) made me very easy and very happy !" " How easy and how happy, Mrs. Jervis ?" *' Why, my dear lady, I paid five to one old creditor of my unhappy sons ; five to a second ; and two and a half to two others, in proportion to their respective demands ; and with the other five I paid off all arrears of the poor children's schooling and maintenance ; and all are satisfied PAMELA. 461 Mrf. B. enquires into Mrs. Jervis's Circumstances. and easy, and declare they will never do harsh things by me, if they are paid no more." ' '* But tell me, Mrs. Jervis, the whole you owe in the world ; and you and I. will contrive, with justice to our best friend, to do aH we can to make you quite easy ; for, at your time of life, I cannot bear that you shall have any thing to disturb you which I can remove, and so, my dear Mrs. Jervis, let me know all. I know your debts (dear, just, good woman as you are !) like David's sins, are ever before you : so come," putting my hand in her pocket, " let me be a friendly pick-pocket ; let me take out your memorandum-book, and we will see how all matters stand, and what ean be done. Come, I see you are too much moved ; your worthy heart is too much affected ; (pulling out her book, which she always had about her) " I will go to my closet, and return presently." So I left her to recover her spirits, and retired with the good woman's book to my closet. Your dear brother stepping into the parlour just after I had gone out, " Where's your lady, Mrs. Jervis ?" said he. And being told, came up to me: "What ails the good woman below, my dear?" said he: " I hope you arid she have had no words ?" " No, indeed, Sir," answered I. " If we had, I am sure it would have been my fault : but 1 have picked her pocket of her memorandum-book, in order to look into her, private affairs, to see if I cannot, with justice to our common benefactor, make her as easy as you, Sir, have made my other dear parents." " A blessing," said he, " upon my charmer's benevolent heart! I will Wve every thing to your discretion, my dear. Do all the good you pru- dently can to your Mrs. Jervis." I clasped my bold arms about him, the starting tear testifying my gratitude " Dearest Sir," said I, " you aU'ect me as much as I did Mrs. Jervis ; and if any one but you had a right to ask, what ails your Pamela? as you do, what ails Mrs. Jervis ? I must say, I am hourly so much oppressed by your goodness, that there is hardly any bearing one's own joy." He saluted me, and said, I was a dear obliging creature. " But," said he, " I came to tell you, that after dinner we'll take a turn, if you please, to Lady Arthur's : she has a family of London friends for her guests, and beg> 1 will prevail upon you to give her your company, and attend you myself, only to drink tea with her ; for I have told her we arc to have friends to sup with us." " I will attend you, Sir," replied I, " most willingly j although I doubt I am to be made a shew of." " Something like it," said he, " for she has promised them this .vour," 42 PAMELA. Mrs. B. relieves Mrs. Jervis in her Circumstances. " I need not dress otherwise than I am ?" " No," he was pleased to say, I was always what he wished me to be. So he left me to my good works (those were his kind words) and I ran over Mrs. Jervis's accounts, and Found a balance drawn of all her matters in one leaf, and a thankful acknowledgment to God, for her master's last bounty, which had enabled her to give satisfaction to others, and to do herself great pleasure, written underneath. The balance of all was thirty-five pounds eleven shillings and odd pence ; and I went to my escritoir, and took out forty pounds, and down I hasted to my good Mrs. Jervis, and I said to her, " Here, my dear good friend, is your pocket-book; but are thirty-five or thirty-six pounds all you owe, or are bound for, in the world ?" " It is, Madam," said she, w and enough too. It is a great sum ; but 'tis in four hands, and they are all in pretty good circumstances, and so convinced of my honesty, that they will never trouble me for it ; for I have reduced the' debt every year something, since I have been in my master's service." " Nor shall ir ever be in any body's power," said I, " to trouble you : I'll tell you how we'll order it." So I sat down, ahd made her sit by me. " Here, my dear Mrs. Jems, is forty pounds. It is not s,o much to me now, as the two guineas were to you, that you would have given me at my going away from this house to my father's, as I thought. I will not give it you neither, at least at pre- sent, as you shall hear : indeed I won't make you so uneasy as that conies to. But take this, and pay the thirty-five pounds odd money to the utmost farthing; and the remaining four pounds odd will be a little fund in advance towards the children's schooling. And thus you shall rapay it : I always designed, as our dear master added five guineas per annum to your salary, in acknowledgment of the pleasure he took in your services, when I was Pamela Andrews, to add five pounds per annum to it from the time I became Mrs. B. But from that time, for so many years to come, you shall receive no more than you did, till the whole forty pounds be repaid. So, my dear Mrs. Jervis, you won't have any obligation to me, you know, but for the advance ; and that is a poor matter, not to be spoken of j and I will have leave for it, for fear I should die." Had your ladyship seen the dear good woman's behaviour, on this occasion, you would never have forgotten it. She could not speak ; tears ran down her cheeks in plentiful currents : her modest band put gently from her my offering hand, her bosom heaved, and she sobbed with the painful tumult that seemed to struggle within her, and which, for some few moments, made her incapable of speaking. At last, I rising, and putting my arm round her neck, wiping her eyes, PAMELA. . 463 .Mr. B. instructing Mrs. B. in the French Language. and kissing her cheek, she crieoth uplifted together " May God Almighty," said J, drowning her voice with my louder voice, " bless us both together, for many happjxycars ! And bless and reward the dear gentleman, who has thus nabled me to make the widow's heart to sins' for joy .'" " Dear good woman," said I, rising, and raising her, " do you think you shall outdo me in prayers and praises to the Fountain of all these mer- cies ? And while I am -empowered to do good to so many worthy objects abroad, shall I forget, to make my clear Mrs. Jervis happy at home ?" And thus, my lady, did I force upon the good woman's acceptance the forty pounds. Permit me, Madam, to close this letter here, and to resume- the subject in my next : till when I have the honour to be your ladyship's most obliged j.nd faithful servant, j P. B. LETTER XVIII. MY DEAR LADV, I NOW resume my last subject where I left oft', that your ladyship may rtavp trie whole before you at one view. I went after dinner, with my dear benefactor, to Lady Arthur's ; and met with fresh calls upon me fur humility ; having the two natural effects of th praises and professed admiration of that lady's gueits, as well as my dear Mr. B.'s, and those of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur, to guard myself against: and your good brother was pleased to entertain me in the chariot, going and coming, with an account of the orders he had given in relation to the London house, which is actually taken, and the furniture he should direct for it ; so that I had no opportunity to t< 11 him what I had done in rekition to Mrs. Jervis. But after supper, reiiring from company to my closet, when his friend* were gone, he came up t<; mc about our Uiital Wed time : he enquired kindly after my employment, which \\;i trying to read in the French Teleinachus : for, my lady, I'm learning French, I'll assure you ! And who, do you think, is my master ? Why, the best i comd have in the world, your dearest brother, who, is pleased to say, I am no dunce : how inex- cusable should 1 he, if 1 was, with such a master, who teaches me on his knee, and rewards me with a kiss whenever 1 do well, and says, 1 have already nearly mastered the accent and pronunciation, which he tells me i a great difficulty t^ot over. 1 requested him to render for me into English two or three places that were beyond my reach ; and wlun he had done it, he a<-ked me, in French, what 1 had dne for Mrs, Jervi-% 464 PAMELA. Mrs. B. and Mrs. Jems before Mr. B. I said, " Permit me, Sir (for I am not proficient enough to answer you in my new tongue) in English, to say, I have made the good woman quite happy; and if I have your approbation, I shall be as much so myself in this instance, as I am in all others." " I dare answer for your prudence, my dear," he was pleased to say: " but this is your favourite : let me know, when you have so bountiful a heart to strangers, what you do for your favourites ?" I then said, " Permit my bold eye, Sir, to watch yours, as I obey you ; and you know you must not look full upon me, then ; for if you do, how shall I look at you again ; how see, as I proceed, whether yoi} are displeased ? for you will not chide me in words, so partial have you the goodness to be to all I do." He put his arm round me, and looked down now and then, as I desired ; for, O Madam, he is all condescension and goodness to his unworthy, yet grateful Pamela ! I told him all I have written to you about the forty pounds." And now, dear Sir," said I, half hiding my face on his shoulder, " you have heard what I have done, chide or beat your Pamela, if you please : it shall be all kind from you, and matter of future direc- tion and caution." He raised my head, and kissed me two or three times, saying, " Thus then 1 chide, I beat, my angel ! And yet I have one fault to find with you ; and let Mrs. Jervis, if not in bed, come up to us, and hear what it is ; for 1 will expose you, as you deserve, before her." My Polly being in hearing, attending to know if I wanted her assistance to undress, I bade her call Mrs. Jervis. And though I thought from his kind looks, and kind words, as well as tender behaviour, that I had not much to fear, yet I was impatient to know what my fault was, for which I was to be exposed. The good woman came ; and as she entered with all that modesty which is so graceful in ber, he moved his chair further from me, and, with a set aspect, but not unpleasant, said, " Step in, Mrs. Jervis : your lady" (for 50, Madam, he will always call me to Mrs. Jervis, and to the servants) " has incurred my censure, and I would not tell her in what, till I had you face to face." She looked surprised now on me, now on her dear master; and I, not knowing what he would say, looked a little attentive. " I am sorry I am very sorry for it, Sir," said she, curtseying low : ** but should be more sorry, if / were the unhappy occasion." " Why, Mrs. Jervis, I can't say but it is on your account that I must blame her." This gave us both confusion, but especially the good woman ; for still I hoped much from his kind behaviour Ut me just before And she said, " Indeed, Sir, I could never deserve " He interrupted her " My charge against you, Pamela," said he, " is PAMELA. 465 ^ i ' ' *- Mr. B.'s Generosity to Mrs. Jervis. that of niggardliness, and no other ; for I will put you both out of your pain : you ought not to have found out the method of . repayment. " The dear creature," said he, to Mrs. Jervis, " seldom does any thing that can be mended ; but, I think, when your good conduct deserved an annual acknowledgment from me, in addition to your salary, the lady should have shewed herself no less pleased with your service than the gentleman. Had it been for old acquaintance sake, for sex sake, she should not have given me cause to upbraid her on this head. But I will tell you, that you must' look upon the forty pounds you have, as the effect of just distinction on many accounts : and your salary from last quarter- day shall be advanced, as the dear niggard intended it some years hence ; and let me only add, that when my Pamela first begins to shew a coldness to her Mrs. Jervis, I shall then suspect she is beginning to decline in that humble virtue, which is now peculiar to herself, and makes her the delight of all who converse with her." , He was thus pleased to say : thus, with the most graceful generosity, and a nobleness of mind truly peculiar to himself, wras he pleased to act i and what could Mrs. Jervis or I say to him ? Why, indeed, nothing at all ! We could only look upon one another, with our eyes and our hearts full of a gratitude that would not permit either of us to sp"ak, but which expressed itself at last in a manner he was pleased to call more elegant than words with uplifted folded hands, and tears of joy. my dear lady ! how many opportunities have the beneficent rich to make themselves, as well as their fellow-creatures, happy! All that I could think, or say, or act, was but my duty before ; what a sense of obligation then must I lie under to this most generous of men ! But here let me put an end to this tedious subject ; the principal part of which can have no excuse, if it may not serve as a proof of my cheer- ful compliance with your ladyship's commands, that I recite every thing of concern to me, and with the same freedom as I used to do to my dear parents. 1 have done it, and at the same time offered what I had to plead in behalf of my conduct to the two housekeepers, which you expected from me ; and I shall therefore close this my humble ox-fence, if 1 may so call it, with the assurance that I am, my dearest lady, your obliged and faithful servant, P. B. LETTER XIX. From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. in Answer to the six last falters. TV11ERE sht had it I cmn't tell! but I think I never met with the fellow of her in my life, at any age :" are, as I remember, my brother's word?, speaking of his Pamela in the early part of your papers. In truth, a \G ii 466 PAMELA. Letter from Lady Daven. to Mr*. B. thou art a surprising creature ; and every letter we have from you, we have new subjects to admire you for." Do you think, Lady Betty," said I, when I had read to the end of the subject about Mrs. Jervis, "I will not soon set out to hit this charming girl a box of the ear or two?" 4 For what, Lady Davers?" said she. " For what !" replied I. " Why don't you see how many slaps of the face the bold slut hits me ? I'll lady-airs her ! 1 will ! I'll teach her to reproach rue, and so many of her betters, with her cottage excellences and improvements, that shame our education." Why, you dear charming Pamela, did you only excel me in words J could forgive you : for there may be a knack, and a volubility, as to uords, that a natural talent . may supply ; but to be thus outdone in thought and in deed, who can bear it ? And in so young an insulter too ! Well, Pamela, look to it, when I see you : you shall feel the weight of iny hand, or the pressure of my lip, one or t'other, depend on it, very quickly : for here, instead of my stooping, as I thought it would be, to call you sister, I shall be forced to think, in a little while, that you ought not to own tne as yours, till I am nearer your standard. But to come to business, I will summarily take notice of the following particulars in all your obliging letters, in order to convince you of my friendship, by the freedom of my observations on the subjects you touch upon. First, then, I am highly pleased with what you write of the advantages you received from the favour of my dear mother ; and as you know many things of her by your attendance upon her the last three or four years of her life, I must desire you will give me, as opportunity shall offer, all you can recollect in relation to the honoured lady, and of her behaviour and kiudness to you, and with a retrospect to your own early beginnings, the darnings of this your bright day of excellence : and this not only I, but the countess, and L<"dy Betty, with whom I am going over your papers again, and her sister, Lady Jenny, request of you. 2. I am much pleased with your Kentish account ; though we wished j )ii had been more particular in some parts of it ; for we are greatly taken with your descriptions : and your conversation pieces : yet I own, your honest father's letters, and yours, a good deal supply that dtfect, as our pleasure in reading your relations makes us call it. Your parents are honest discreet folks : I have a value for them : and you're the prudentest .reature I ever knew, in all your ways ; particularly in the advice you give them about your more distant relations, and to aim at nothing beyond their natural sphere. Every tittle is right, and as it should be. On these accounts it is, that all the world will allow, that you, and your parents roo merij the fortune you have mot with. PAMELA. 467 in Aaswer to the foregoing. 3. I am highly delighted with your account of my brother's breaking to you the affair of Sally Godfrey, and your conduct upon it. 'Tis a sweet story as he brought it in, and as you relate it. The wretch has been very just in his account of it. But don't you think he was a sad young fellow ? Well may you be thankful for your escape ! Your behaviour was what I admire ; and so we do all ; but none of us think we could have imitated it in all its parts. We are in love with your charitable reflections in favour of the poor lady ; and the more, as she certainly deserved them, and a better mother too than she had, and a faithfuller lover than she met with. 4. You have exactly hit his temper" in your declared love of Miss Goodwin. I see, child, you know your man ; and never fear but you'll hold him, if you can go on thus to act, and outdo your sex. But I should think you might as well not insist upon having her with you ; for the girl may be pert, perhaps insolent (you know who is her father !) you'd not care to check her, for several reasons, and this may make you uneasy ; for if you did, he might take it amiss, let your motives be ever so good : . so I think you'd better see her now and then at the dairy-house, or at school, than have her with you. But this I leave to your own discretion, and his good pleasure, to determine upon : for in the latter it must rest, let you, or me, or any body say what we will. 5. You have satisfactorily answered our objections to your behaviour to Mrs. Jewkes. We had not considered your circumstances quite so thoroughly as we ought to have done. You are a charming girl, and all your motives are so just, that we shall be a little more cautious for the future how we censure you. We are particularly pleased with the triumph of yourinnocence over his and her guilt , and agree, that they are the Tight- est and best to be defended motives for pride, that ever were set before us. In short, I say with the countess, "This good girl is not without her pride ; but it is the pride that becomes, and can only attend the innocent heart ; and I'll warrant," said her ladyship, " nobody will become her station so well, as one who is capable of *o worthy a pride as this." But what a curtain-lecture hadst thou, Pamela ! ,4 noble one dost thou call it? Why, what a wretch hast thou got, to expect thou shouldst never expostulate against hi* lordly will, even when in the wrong, till thou hast obeyed it, and of consequence, joined in the evil he imposes ! Hea\s, indeed, in small points : but I suppose be is to judge which are and which are not small. Thus, 1 remember, my brother himself took notice once of a proposal in the House of Commons, to grant the crown a very -Treat sum to answer civil list deficiencies, which being opposed by the minority, the minister found out an cxpedtent, that they might give the money Jint, and examine into the merits of the demand ofteruards. So we read, that in some U2 468 PAMELA. ' r = Letter from Lady DaverMo Mrs. B. countries an accused person is j>ut to death, and then tried; and all he has to hope for while he lives, is, that his relations, and his own family, will he released from ohloquy if an acquittal ensues. Much good may such a husband do you, says Lady Betty '. Every body will admire you, but no one will have reason to envy you upon those prin- ciples. Yet, I don't know how it is, but this is evident, that, at present, there is not a happier couple in the world than you two are. 6. I am pleased with your promise of sending what you think I shall like to see, out of those papers you choose not to shew me collectively : this is very obliging. You're a good girl ; and I love you dearly. 7. We have all smiled at your paradox, Pamela, that his marrying you was an instance of his pride. The thought, though /is pretty enough, and ingenious ; hut whether it will hold or not, I won't just now examine. 8. Your observation on the forget andjbrgive we are much pleased with, and think you have distinguished well on that head. 9. You are very good in sending me a copy of Miss Darnford's letter She is a charming young lady. I always had a great opinion of her merit ; her letter abundantly confirms me in it. I hope you'll communicate to me every letter that passes between you, and pray send in your next a copy of your answer to her letter : I must insist upon it, I think. 10. I am glad, with all my heart, to hear of poor Jewkes's reformation. Your example carries all before it. But pray oblige me with your answer to her letter : don't think me unreasonable, 'tis all for your sake. You must needs know that, or you know nothing. For 1 think jou deserve all Miss Darn-ford says of you ; and that is a great deal too. Pray have you shewn Jewkes's letter to your good friend ? Lady Betty wants to know (if you have) what he could say to it ? For, she says, it cuts him to the quick. And I think so too, if* he takes it as he ought : but, as you say, he's above loving virtue for virtue's sake, I warrant him. He likes it in a wife, because 'tis a husband's security against the law of retaliation. There's a great deal in that. I once heard him hold an argument that women had no souls. I asked, if he were to marry, whether he'd have his wife act as if she believed this doctrine to be good? That was another thing, he said : he was for having his wife think she had, he must own : such a belief could do her no harm. Ah ! Pamela, for theory and practice too, I doubt, never was such a rake, Tor one not quite a town debauchee ! 1 1. Your manner of acting by Mrs Jervis, with so handsome a regard to my brother's interest, her behaviour upon it, and your relation of the whole, and of his generous spirit in approving, reproving, and improving, your prudent generosity, make no inconsiderable figure in your papers And Lady Betty says, " Hang him, he has some excellent qualities too It is impossible not to think well of him and his good action? go a erea f PAMELA. 469 in Answer to the foregoing. way towards atoning for his bad." But you, Pamela, have the glory of all. We desire you particularly never to omit any of those moving scenes, you so well describe, be the occasion what it will : for they are nature, and that's your excellence. Keep to that ; for one more learned, I verily think, could not write as you do, nor instruct, and delight, and move all at once, so very engagingly. 12. I am glad you are learning French : thou art a happy girl in thy teacher, and he is a happy man in his scholar. We are pleased with your pretty account of his method of instructing and rewarding. 'Twould be strange, if you did not thus learn any language quickly, with such en- couragement*, from the man you love, were your genius less apt than it is. But we wished you had enlarged on that subject : for such fondnesf of men to their wives, who have been any time married, is so rare, and so unexpected from nuj brother, that we thought you should have written a side upon that subject at least. What a bewitching girl art thou ! What an exemplar to wives now, as well as thou wast*before to maidens! Thou canst tame lions, I dare say, if thou'dst try. Reclaim a rake in the meridian ef his libertinism, and make such an one as my brother not only marry thee, but love thee better at several months' end, than he did the first day, if possible ! Wonderful girl ! yet usest thou no arts but honest ones, such as prudence directs, nature points out, and such as make duty delightful, even commanding most, when thou seemest most to submit. , It must be owned, indeed, that thou hast no brutal mind to deal with : bad as he is, thou hast a sensible and a generous heart to work upon ; one who takes no glory in the blind submission of a slave ; but, like a true British monarch, delights to reign in a free, rather than in an abject mind. Yet is be jealous as a tyrant of his prerogative : but you have found the wayHo lay that watchful dragon asleep, and so possess the golden fruits of content "and true pleasure, the due reward of your matchless conduct. Now, my dear Pamela, I think I have taken notice of the most material articles in your letters, and have no more to say to you ; but write on, and oblige us ; and mini' to send me the copy of your letter to Miss Darnford, of that you wrote to poor penitent Jewkes, and every article I have written about, and all that come-, into your head, or that passes, and you'll oblige yours, Sfc. B. Davers. LETTER XX. MY DEAR LADY, I READ with pleasure your commands, in your last kind and obliging letter: and you may be sure of a ready obedience in every one of them, that is in my power. i i 3 470 PAMELA. Letter from' Mrs. B. to Mis* Dariiforri . That which I can most easily do, I will first do ; and that is, to transcribe the answer I sent to Miss Darnford, and that to Mrs. Jewkes, the former of which (and a long one it is) is as follows : " DEAR MISS DARNFORD, " I hegin now to he afraid I shall not have the pleasure and benefit I promised myself of passing a fortnight or three weeks at the hall, in your sweet conversation, and that of your worthy family, as well as those others in your agreeable neighbourhood, whom I must always remember with equal honour and delight. " The occasion will be principally, that we expect, very soon, Lord and Lady Davers, who propose to tarry here a fortnight at least ; and after that, the advanced season will carry us to London, where Mr. B.has taken a house for his winter residence, and in order to attend parliament : a service, he says, which he has been more deficient in hitherto than he can either answer to his constituents or to his own conscience ; for though he is but one, yet if any good motion should be lost by one, every absent mem- ber, who is independent, has to reproach himself with the consequence of the loss of that good which might otherwise redound to the commonwealth. And besides, he says, such excuses as he could make, every one might plead ; and then public affairs might as well be left to the administration, and no parliament be chosen. " He observed further, that every absent member, in such cases, in- directly abets the ministeR, be he who he will, in all his designs, be they vhat they will ; and is even less excusable to his country than the may who, for a transitory benefit to his family, takes a pension or reward for his vote ; since the difference is only, that one passively ruins his country by neglect and indolence, which can do nobody good, and the other more actively for a bribe ; which practice, though ruinous in the end to the whole public, in which his own private good is included, yet serves to answer some present turn or benefit to himself or fanvily. " See you, my dear Miss Darnford, from the humble cottager, what a public person your favourite friend is grown ! How easy it is for a bold mind to look forward, and, perhaps, forgetting what she was, now she imagines she has a stake in the country, takes upon herself to be as important, as significant, as if, like my dear Miss Darnford, she had been born to it ! But if I am censured for troubling my head with politics, let me answer, that I am at liberty, I hope, to tell you Mr. B.'s sentiments of these high matters ; and that is all I have done. " Well ; but may I not ask, whether, if the mountain cannot come to Mahomet, Mahomet will not come to the mountain ? Since Lady Davers's jsit is so uncertain as to its beginning and duration, arid so great a favour PAMELA. 471 Letter from Mrs. K. to Miss Pamford. as I am to look upon it, and really shall, it being her first visit to me: and since we must go and take possession of our London residence, why can't Sir Simon spare to us the dear lady whom he could use hardly, and whose attendance (though he is indeed entitled to all her duty) he did not, just in that instance, quite so much deserve ? ' Well, but after all, Sir Simon,' would I say, if I had been in pre- sence at his peevish hour, ' you are a fine gentleman, are you not ? to take such a method to shew your good daughter, that because she did not come soon enough to you, she came too soon ! And did ever papa before you put a good book (for such I doubt not it was, becavte you were in affliction, though so little affected by its precepts) to such a bad vse ? As parents' examples are so prevalent, suppose your daughter had taken it, and flung it at her sister ; Miss Nancy at her waiting-maid ; and so it had goue through the family ; would it not have been an excuse for every one to say, that the father and head of the family had set the example ? " But ag-tin, Sir Simon, suppose you had hurt the sweet dove-like eyes of my dear M;ss Darnford.- Suppose you had bruised or broken the fine skin of any part of that fine face, which gives, at first sight, so bright a promise of her still finer mind, what, let me ask you, Sir, could you have laid for yourself ? How would the dear lady's appearance, with one sweet eye perhaps muffled up, with a plaistered forehead, or a veiled cheek, hiding herself from every body but you, and her grieved mamma, and pitying sister, have reproached you for so rash an act ? nay, reproached you more, hy her unreproaehing obligingness, and cheerful duty, than if (were she capable of it) she could have spoken in sharp complaints, and expostulatory wailings ? " You almost wish, my dear Miss tells rue, that I would undertake you ! This is very good of you, Sir Simon,' I might (would his patience ha v e suffered me to run on thusj have added; ' but I hope, since you are so sensible that you want to be undertaken (and since this peevish rashness convinces me that you do, that you will undertake yourself; that you will not, when your indisposition requires the attendance and duty of your dear lady and daughter, make it more uncomfortable to them, by adding a difficulty of being pleased, and an impatience of spirit, to the concern their duty and affection make them have for you ; and, at least, resolve never to take a book into your band again if you cannot make a better use of it than you did then.' " Pray tell your papa, that I beg he would present me with thi< book, and 1 will put a mark upon it, and it thall never more either giv* or receive such disgrace, 1 warrant it. Be it what it may, I will present him with as good an one. " I will write in it ' Memorandum, This book reversing the author'* I l 4 472 PAMELA. Letttir from Mrs. 1!. to Ajiss Daruford. good intention, had like to have done mischief next to unpardonable !'- Or, * This book, instead of subduing the reader's passions' (I tak it for granted, you see, Miss, it was Seneca's Morals, or some such good book) ' had like to have been the cause of a violent evil. Henceforth, unavailing instructor, be thou condemned to stand by thyself on a lone, shelf in my closet ; a shelf most out of mine or any other person's reach, for pretending to prescribe rules for subduing the passions in so ineffica- cious a manner ! And, consigned to dust and cobwebs, not once presume (in hope to hide thy conscious guilt) to squeeze thyself into rank with better, or at least with more convincing teachers !' " But do you think, dear Madam, Sir Simon would be angry, if oppor- tunity had offered, and I had been thus bold ? If so, don't let him see I had such thoughts in my head. But, after all, if he were to have been thus freely treatedj and had blushed with anger at my freedom, 'tis but what he ought to bear from me ; for, more than once, has he made me blush for shame, at much greater on his part ; nay, and that too, in pre- sence of his virtuous daughters: so that I have but half my revenge upon him yet. ' And will you hear malice,' he will say, ' Mrs. B. ?' ' Yes, Sir Simon, I will ; and nothing but your amending the evil can make me forgive a gentleman, that is really a gentleman, who can so sadly forego his character, and, b&fore any company, not scruple to expose a modest virgin to the forward leer, and loud laugh, of younger gentlemen, who durst not take such liberties of speech, as they would saucily chuckle at, when coming from the mouth of one of Sir Simon's authenticating, but better promising time of life.' " But Sir Simon will say, I have already undertaken him, were he to see this. Yet my Lady Darnford once begged I would give him a hint or two on this subject, which, she was pleased to say, would be better received from me than from any body : and if it be a little too severe, it i3 but a just reprisal made by one whose ears, he knows, he has cruelly wounded more than once, twice, or thrice, besides, by what he calls his innocent double entendres, and who, if she had not resented it, when an oppor- tunity offered, must have been believed, by him, to be neither more nor less than a hypocrite. There's for you, Sir Simon : and so here ends all my malice ; for now 1 have spoken my mind. " Yet I hope your dear papa will not be so angry as to deny me, for this my freedom, the request I make to him, to your mamma, and to your dear self, for your beloved company, for a month or two in Bedfordshire, and at London ; and if you might be permitted to winter With us at the latter, how happy should 1 be ? It will be half done the moment you desire it. Sir Simon loves you too well to refuse you, if you are earnest in it. Your honoured mamma is always indulgent to your requests : and Mr, B. PAMELA. 473 _"'"' * < - - - - -- Letter from Mrs. B. to lira. Jewkes. as well in kindness tome as for the great respect he bears you, joins with me to beg this favour of you, and of Sir Simon and my lady. " Be pleased to present my humble respects to Lady Damford, and to Miss Nancy ; to good Madam Jones, and to your kind friends at Stamford ; also to Mr. and Mrs. Peters, and their kinswoman : and beg of that good gentleman from me to encourage bis new proselyte all he can ; and I doubt not, she will do credit, poor woman! to the pains he shall take with her. In hopes of your kind compliance with my wishes for your company, I remain, dearest Miss Damford, your fait Frf'til and obliged friend and servant, P. B. This, my good lady, is the long letter I sent to Miss Darnford, who, at parting, engaged me to keep up a correspondence with her, and put me in hopes of passing a month or two at the hall, if we came down, and if she could persuade Sir Simon and her mamma to spare her to my wishes. The following is the copy of what I wrote to Mrs. Jewkes : " You give me, Mrs. Jewkes, very great pleasure, to find, that, at length, God Almighty lias touched your heart, and let you see, while health and strength lasted, the error of your ways. Many an unhappy one has not been so graciously touched, till they have smarted under some heavy afflictions, or been confined to the bed of- sickness, when, perhaps, they have made vows and resolutions, that have held them no longer than the discipline lasted ; but you give ine much better hopes of the sincerity of your conversion ; as you are so well convinced, before some sore evil has overtaken you: and it ought to be an earnest to you of the Divine favour, and should keep you from despondency. " As to me, it became me to forgive you, as I most cordially did ; since your usage of me, as it proved, was but a necessary means in the hand of Providence to exalt me to that state of happiness, in which I have every day more and more cause given me to rejoice, by the kindest and most generous of gentlemen. " As I have often prayed for you, even when you used me the most unkindly, 1 now praise God for having heard my prayers, and with high delight look upon you as a reclaimed soul given to my supplication. May the Divine Goodness enable you to persevere in the course you have begun ! And when you can taste the all-surpassing pleasure that fills the worthy breast, on being placed in a station where your example may be of advan- tage to the -;ouls of others, as well as to your own a pleasure that every good mind glories in, and none else can truly relish; then may you he. assured, that nothing but your perseverance, and the consequential im- provement resulting from it, is wanted to convince you, that you are in 474 PAMELA. . ..' ' ' ...... a Letter from Mrs. K. to Mrs. Jcwkefc. a right way, and that the woe that is pronounced against the presumptuous sinner belongs not to you. " Let me therefore, dear Mrs. Jewkes (for now indeed you are dear to me) caution you against two things ; the one, that you return not to your former way*, and wilfully err after this repentance ; for the Divine Good- ness will then look upon itself as mocked by you, and will withdraw itself from you ; and more dreadful will your state then be than if you had never repented : the other, that you don't despair of the Divine mercy, which has so evidently manifested itself in your favour, and has awakened you out of your deplorable lethargy, without those sharp medicines and opera^ tions, which others, and perhaps not mope faulty persons, have suffered. But go on cheerfully in the same happy path. Depend upon it you are now in the right way, and turn not either to the right hand or to the left ; for the reward is before you, in reputation and a good fame in tins life, and everlasting felicity beyond it. " Your letter is that of a sensible woman, as I always thought you ; and of a truly contrite one, as I hope you will provs yourself to be : and I the rather hope it, as I shall be always desirous then of taking every opportunity that offers of doing you real service, as well with regard to your present as future life : for 1 am, good Mrs. Jewkes, as I now hope I may call you, your loving friend to serve you, P. B. *' Whatever good books the worthy Mr. Peters will be so kind as to recommend to you, and to those under your direction, send for them either to Lincoln, Stamford, or Grantham, and place thetn to my account : and may they be the effectual means of confirming you and them in the good way you are in ! I have done as much for all here : and, 1 hope, to no bad effect : for I shall now tell them, by Mrs. Jervis, if there be occasion, that I hope they will not let me be outdone in Bedfordshire, by Mrs. Jewkes in Lincolnshire ; but that the servants of both houses may do credit to the best of masters. Adieu, good woman ! as once more I take pleasure to style you." Thus, my good lady, have I obeyed you, in transcribing these two letters. I will now proceed to your ladyship's twelve articles. As to the 1. I will oblige your ladyship, as I have opportunity, in my future letters, with such accounts of my dear lady's favour and goodness to me, as I think will be acceptable to you, and to the noble ladies you mention. 2. I am extremely delighted, that your ladyship thiuks so well of my dear honest parents : they are good people, and ever had minds that set them above low and sordid actions : and God and your good brother has rewarded them most amply in this world, which is more than they ever expected, after a series of unprosperousness in all they undertook. Vour ladyship is pleased to say, that people in upper life love to see PAMELA. 475 Contentment of Mrs. B.'s Farcnts in their former Condition. how plain nature operates in honest minds, who have hardly any thing else for their guide : and if I might not be thought to descend too low for your ladyship's attention (for, as to myself, I shall, I hope, always look back with pleasure to what I was, in order to increase my thankfulness for what I am) I would give you a scene of resignation, and contented poverty, of which otherwise you can hardly have a notion. I will give it, because it will be a scene of nature, however low, which your ladyship loves, and it shall not tire you by its length. It was upon occasion of a great loss and disappointment which happened to my dear parents ; for though they were never high in life, yet they were not always so low as my honoured lady found them, when she took me. My poor father came home ; and as the loss was of such a nature, as that he could not keep it from my mother, he took her hand, and said, after he had acquainted her with it, " Come, my dear, let us take comfort, that we did for the best. We left the issue to Providence, as we ought, and that has turned it as it pleased ; and we must be content, though not favoured as we wished. All the business is, our lot is not cast for this life. Let us resign ourselves to the Divine will, and continue to do our duty, and this short life will soon be past. Our troubles will be quickly overblown ; and ws. shall be happy in a better, I make no doubt." Then my dear mother threw her arms about his neck, and said, with tears, " God's will be done, my dear love ! All cannot be rich and happy. I am contented, and had rather say, I have a poor honest husband, than a guilty rich one. What signifies rvpining : let the world go as it will, we shall have our length and our breadth at last. And Providence, I doubt not, will be a better friend to our good girl here, because she is good, than we could be, if this had not happened," pointing to me, who, tln.il about eleven year? old (for it was before my lady took me) sat weep- ing in the chimney corner, over a few dying embers of a lire, at their moving expressions. I arose, and kissing both their hands, and blessing them, said, " And this length and breadth, my dear parents, will be, one dav^all that the rich and the great can possess ; and, it may be, their ungracious- heirs will trample upon their ashes, and rejoice they are gone : while such a poor girl as I nm honouring the memories of mine, who, in their good names and good lessons, will have left me the best of portions." And then they both hugged me to their fond bosoms, by turns; and all three were so (died with comforts in one another, that after joining in a grateful hymn we went to bed (what though supperless perhaps ?) with such true joy, that very few of the rich and great can have any idea of it ; I to my loft, and they to their rushed floor cleanly bed-room. And we 476 PAMELA. Contrast of the Conditions of the Poor and the Affluent. have had sweet sleep, and dreams so . pleasant, that ' we have reaped greater pleasure, in repeating them one to another, at our next leisure hour, than possibly we should have received, had we enjoyed the comforts we wanted. And truly, I must needs say, that while the virtuous poor can be bles- sed with such sweet enjoyments as these, in contented minds all day, and in sound sleep at night, I don't know whether they have not more, even of this world's pleasures, than the abounding rich : and while the hours of night bear so near a proportion to those of the day, may not>such be said, even at the worst, to pass at least half their lives with more comfort than many times the voluptuous and distempered great can pretend to know ? For a farther proof that honest poverty is not such a deplorable thing as some people imagine, let me ask, what pleasure can those over happy persons know, who, from the luxury of their tastes, and their affluent circumstances, always eat before they are hungry, and drink before they are thirsty ? This may be illustrated by the instance of a certain eastern monarch, who, as I have read, marching at the head of a vast army, through a wide extended desert, which afforded neither river nor spring, for the first time, found himself (in common with his soldiers) overtaken by a craving thirst, which made him pant after a cup of water. And when, after diligent search, one of his soldiers found a little dirty puddle, and carried some of the filthy water in his nasty helmet, the monarch greedily swallowing it, cried out, that in all his life he never tasted so sweet a draught '. But when I talk or write of my worthy parents, how I run on ! Ex- cuse me, my good lady, and don't think me, in this respect, too much like the cat in the fable turned into a fine tady ; for though 1 would never forget what I was, yet I would be thought to-know how gratefully to enjoy my present happiness, as well with regard to my obligations to God, as to your dear brother. But let me proceed to your ladyship's third particular. 3. And you cannot jmagine, Madam, how much you have set my heart at rest, when you say, that my dear Mr. B. gave me a just narrative of this affair with Mis Godfrey ; for when your ladyship desired to know how he had recounted that story, lest you should make a misunderstanding between us unawares, 1 knew not what to think. I was afraid some blood had been shed on the occasion by him : for the lady was ruined, and as to her, nothing could have happened worse. The regard I have for Mr. B.'s future happiness, which, in my constant supplication for him in private, costs me many a tear, gave me great apprehensions, and not a little uneasiness. But as your ladyship tells me that he gave me a just account, I am happy again. PAMELA. 477 . . t , i . . - ., ' . iTT Mrs. B. cwnnieiids Miss Godfrey** determinate Cunciuct. What makes us, in our most prosperous condition, be always inter- mingling our fearS of what may be ; whereby we rob ourselves of the plea- sure of our best worldly enjoyments ? Is this apprehensiveness, does your ladyship think, implanted in our nature for wise and good ends, that we may not think ourselves so happy here, as to cause us to forget that there is a better and more perfectly happy state, which we ought to aspire after ? I believe it is : and if so, what an useful monitor do we carry about us, that shall make us consider and reflect, when in prosperity: and in adversity teach us to bear up to hopes of a happier lot '. Thus Mr. Nor- ris, in his translation of one of Horace's Odes, says, Be life ai)d spirit when fortune proves unkind, And summon up the vigour of thy mind ; But when thou'rt driven by too officious gales. Be wise, and gather in the swelling sails. 4. I now come to your ladyship's fourth particular. And highly delighted I am for having obtained your approbation of my conduct to the child, as well as of my behaviour towards the dear gentle- man, on the unhappy lady's score. Your ladyship's wisa intimations, about having the child with me, make due impression upon me ; and I see in them, with grateful pleasure, your unmerited regard for me. Yet, I don't know how it is, but I have conceived a strange passion for this dear baby : I cannot but look upon her poor mamma as my sister in point of trial; and shall not the prosperous sister pity and love the poor dear sister that, in so slippery a path, has fallen, while she had the happiness to keep her feet ? No doubt, Miss Godfrey loved virtue, and preferred it to all considera- tions -. 'tis plain she did even after her fall when, as I observed in the papers I sent your ladyship, she could leave country, parents, friends, and the man of all others she loved best, and seek a new fortune, run the danger of thr seas, and perhaps the hazards of meeting with worse men, rather than trust: to her own strength, where it had once so unhap- pily failed her. What a love of virtue for virtue's sake is this ? I know not who could have acted up to this part of her character. The re-it of your ladyship's Articles give me the greatest pleasure and satisfaction ; and if I can but continue myself in the favour of your dear brother, and improve in that of his noble sister, how happy shall I he ! I will do all 1 can to deserve both. And I hope you will take, as an instance of it, my cheerful obedience to your commands, in writing to so fine % judge such crude and indigested stuff, as otherwise I ought to be ashamed to lay before you. I am impatient for the Honour of your presence here ; and yet I per- 473 PAMELA. LeUer from Miss Daniford to Mrs. B. plex myself with the fear of appearing so unworthy in your eye when near you, as to suffer in your opinion ; but I promise myself, that how- ever this may be the case on your first visit, I shall be so much improved by the benefits I shall reap from your lessons and good example, that whenever I shall be favoured with a second, you shall have fewer faults to find with me ; till, as I shall be more and more favoured, I shall in time be just what your ladyship will wish me to be, and, of consequence more worthy than I am of the honour of styling myself your ladyship's most humble and obedient servant, P. B. LETTER XXI. From Miss Darnford, in Answer to Mrs. JB.'s, page 470. MY DEAR MRS. B. YOU are highly obliging in expressing so warmly your wishes to have me with you. I know not any body in this world, out of our own family, in whose company I should be happier ; but my papa won't part with me, I think ; though I have secured my mamma in my interest ; and I know Nancy would be glad of my absence, because the dear, perversely envious, thinks me more valued than site is ; and yet, foolish girl, she don't con- sider, that if her envy be well grounded, I should return with more than double advantages to what I now have, improved by your charming conversation. My papa affects to be in a fearful pet, at your lecturing of him so justly ; for my mamma would shew him the letter ; and he says he will posi- tively demand satisfaction of Mr. B. for your treating him so freely. And yet he shall hardly think him, he says, on a rank with him, unless Mr. B. will, on occasion of the new commission, take out his dedimus : and then if he will bring you down to Lincolnshire* and join with him to commit you prisoner for a month at the hall, all shall be well. It is very obliging in Mr. B. to join in your kind invitation : but yet 1 am loth to say it to you the character of your worthy gentleman, I doubt, stands a little in the way with my papa ; for he will have it, that he is just such a rake as is to be liked by a lady ; one that saves common appearances, and that's alii and is too handsome, too witty, and too enterprising, for any honest man that's Sir Simon's phrase to trust his daughter with. These, it seems, were his words and his reasonings : I thank him for his opinion of his daughter. It becomes not me to say, by what rules my papa judges of mankind ; rules, however, that are not much to the credit of his sex -.but it made me put on very grave airs when I came to supper (for after this repulse, and the reasons given for it, I pretended indisposi- tion, not to dine with my papa, leing half vexed, and half afraid of his PAMELA: 479 "= - ' ' *~ coutaiuing lier Father's Refusal to her visiting Mrs. B. raillery;) and he said, " Why, how now, Polly! What! in the sullensj girl ?" I said, I should have hoped, that I never gave my papa cause to suspect my conduct, and that he would have had a better opinion of the force which the example and precepts of my good mamma had upon me. " Not your papa's example then."" Very well, sauce-box, I understand you." ." But, Sir," said I, " 1 hope, if I may not go to Bedfordshire, you'll permit me to go to London, when Mrs. B. goes ?" " No," said he, " positively no !" " Well, Sir, I have done. I could hope, however, you would enable me to give a better reason to good Mrs. B. why I am not permitted to accept of the kind invitation, than that which I understand you have been pleased to assign." He stuck his hands in his sides, with his usual humorous positiveness, " Why then tell her, she is a very saucy lady, for her last letter to you ; and her lord and master is not to be trusted ; and it is my absolute will and pleasure that you ask me no more questions about it." " I will very faithfully make this report, Sir:" " Do so." And so I have. And your poor Polly Darnford is disappointed of one of the greatest pleasures she could have had. I can't help it If you truly pity me you can make me easier under the disappointment, than otherwise possible, by favouring me with an epistolary conversation, since I am denied a personal one ; and my mamma joins in the request ; particularly let us know how Lady Davers's first visit passes ; which Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Jones, who know my lady so well, likewise long to hear. And this will make us the best amends in your power for the loss of your good neighbourhood, which we had all pro- mised to ourselves. This denial of my papa comes out, since I wrote the above, to be prin- cipally owing to a proposal made htm of a humble servant to one of his daughters : he won't say which, be tells us, in his usual humorous way, lest we should fall out about it. " I suppose," I tell him, " the young gentleman is to pick and choose which of the two he likes best." But be he a duke, 'tis all one to Polly, if he is not something above our common Lincolnshire class of fox-hunters. I have shewn Mr. and Mrs. Peters your letter. They admire you be- yond expres-ion ; and Mr. Peters says, he does not know that ever he did any thinjj in his life that gave him so much inward reproach, as his denying you the protection of Ins family, which Mr. Williams sought to move him to afford you, when you were confined at the hall, before Mr. B ~ime down to you, with his heart bent on mischief; and all he comforts 480 PAMELA. Letter from Sirs. B. :o her Tarents. himself with is, that very denial, as well as the other hardships you have met with, were necessary to bring about that work of Providence which was to reward your unexampled virtue. Vet, he says, he doubts he shall not be thought excusable by you, who are so exact in your own duty, since he had the unhappiness to lose such an opportunity to have done honour to his function, had he had the forti- tude to have done his ; and he has begged of me to hint his concern to you on this head ; and to express his hopes, that neither religion nor his cloth may suffer in your opinion, for the fault of one of its professors, who never was wanting in his duty so much before. He had it often upon his mind, he says, to write to you on this very subject ; but he had not the courage ; and besides, did not know how Mr. B. might take it, if he should see that letter, as the case had such delicate circumstances in it, that in blaming himself, as he should very freely have done, he must, by implication, have cast still greater blame upon him. Mr. Peters is certainly a very good man, and my favourite for that rea- son ; and I hope you, who could so easily forgive the late wicked, but now penitent Jewkes, will overlook with kindness a fault in a good man, which proceeded more from pusillanimity and constitution, than from want of principle : for once, talking of it to my mamma, before me, he aceused himself on this score, to her, with tears in his eyes. She, good lady, would have given you this protection at Mr. Williams's desire ; but wanted the power to do it. So you see, my dear Mrs. B. how your virtue has shamed every one into such a sense of what they ought to have done, that good, bad, and indifferent, are seeking to make excuses for past misbehaviour, and to promise future amendment, like penitent subjects returning to their duty to their conquering sovereign, after some unworthy defection. Happy, happy lady ! May you ever be so ! May you always convert your enemies, invigorate the lukewarm, and every day multiply your friends, wishes your most affectionate Polly Darnford. P. S. How I rejoice in the joy of your honest parents '. God bless 'em ! I am glad Lady Davers is so wise. Every one 1 have named desire their best respects. Write ofteuer, and omit not the minutest thing : for every line of yours carries instruction with it. LETTER XXII. MY HONOURED AND DEAR PARENTS, I HOPE you will excuse my long silence, which has been owing to seve- ral causes, and having had nothing new to entertain you with : and yet this last is but a poor excuse to you, who think every trifling subject agreeable from your daughter. ' PAMELA. 481 Letter from Mrs. B. to her Parents. I daily expect here my Lord and Lady Davers. This gives me no small pleasure, and yet it is mingled with some uneasiness at times ; lest I should not, when viewed so intimately near, behave myself answerably to her ladyship's expectations. But I resolve not to endeaTour to move out of the sphere of raV own capacity, in order to emulate her ladyship. She must have advantages, by conversation, as well as education, which it would be arrogance in me to assume, or to think of imitating. All that 1 will attempt to do, therefore, shall be, to shew such a respect- ful obligingness to my lady, as shall be consistent with the condition to which I am raised ; so that she may not have reason to reproach me of pride in my exaltation, nor her dear brother to rebuke me for meanness in condescending : and, as to my fajnily arrangement, I am the less afraid of inspection, because, by the natural bias of my own mind, I bless God, I am above dark reserves, and have not one selfish or sordid view, to make me wish to avoid the most scrutinizing eye. 1 have begun a correspondence with Miss Darnford, a young lady of uncommon merit. But yet you know her character from my former writings. She is very solicitous to hear of all that concerns me, and par- ticularly how Lady Davers and I agree together. 1 loved her from the moment I saw her first ; for she has the least pride, and the most bene- volence and solid thought, I ever knew in a young lady, and does not envy any one. 1 shall write to hsr often ; and as I shall have so many avoca- tions besides to fill up my time, I know you will excuse me, if I procure e least wonder or surprise. This makes -me very thoughtful at times. But God, I hope, will pre- serve our dearest benefactor, and continue to me his affection, and then 1 shall be always happy ; especially while your healths and felicity confirm and crown the delights of your ever dutiful daughter, P. JJ. LETTER XXIII. MY DEAREST CHILD, IT may not be improper to mention ourselves, what the nature of the kindnesses is, which we confer on our poor neighbours, and the labouring people, lest it should be surmised, by any body, that we are lavishing away wealth thftt is not oufown. Not that we fear either your honoured husband or you will suspect so, or that the worthy Mr. Longman would insinuate as much ; for he saw what we did, and was highly pleased with it, and said he would make such a report of it as you write he did. What we do is in small things, though the good we hope from them is not small perhaps : and if a very distressful case should happen among our poor neighbours, requiring any thing considerable, and the objects be deserv- ing, we would acquaint you with it, and leave it to you to do as God should direct you. We have furnished ourselves with simple waters and cordials of seven i sorts ; and when in a hot sultry day I see poor labouring creatures readj to faint and drop down, if only fatigued, 1 order them a mouthful of bread or so, and a cup of good ale or beer; and this makes them go about their business with new spirits ; and when they bless me for it, I tell them they must bieas the good squire, from whoso bounty, next to God, it all proceeds. If they are ill, I give (hern a cordial ; and we have been the means of setting up several poor creatures who have laboured undf-i colicky and aguish disorders, or have bei u taken with slight stomach ailments. And nothing is lost by it, my dear child ; for poor people havr as grateful souls as any body ; and it would delight y best friends and well-wishers have recommended to your favour. I hope he will deserve your good opinion, and then he must eneel most of the unmarried gentleman in England. Your papa, in a letter to Mr. B. mentions his lartje t>r>s~es-ions and riches ; but were he as rich as Oiesus, he should not have my con- sent, if Ik- Lis !:-> greater merit ; though that is what the g< nerality of parents look out for first: and indeed an easy fortune is .-) far from being to be disregarded, that, when attended with equal merit, I t!,ink it ouht to have ^preference given to it, gupposing affections disengaged. For 'tis k k 3 486 PAMELA. Mrs. TVs Apology for htr Husband. certain, that a man or woman may stand as good a chance for happiness in marriage with a person of fortune, as with one who has not that advantage ; and notwithstanding I had neither riches nor descent to boast of, I must be of opinion with those who say, that they never knew any body despise either, that had thorn. But to permit riches to be the prin- cipal inducement, to the neglect of superior merit, that is the fault which many an one smarts for, whether the choice be their own, orimposed upon them by those who have a title to their obedience. Here is a saucy body, might s-ome who have not Miss Darnford's kind consideration for her friend, be apt to say, who being thus meanly descended, nevertheless presumes to give her opinion, in these high cases, unasked. But I have this to say; that I think myself so entirely di- vested of partiality to my own case, that, as far as my judgment shall' permit, I will never have that in view, when I am presuming to hint my opinion of general rules. For, most surely, the honours 1 have received, and the debasement to which my best friend has subjected himself, have, for their principal excuse, that the gentleman was entirely independent, had no questions to ask, and bad a fortune sufficient to make himself, as well as the person he chose, happy, though she brought him nothing at all ; and that he had, moreover, such a character for good sense, and knowledge of the world, that nobody could impute to him any other in- ducement, but that of a noble resolution to reward a virtue he had so frequently, and, I will say, so wickedly, tried, and could not subdue. I was much concerned, my dear Miss Darnford, at first, till you gave a reason I better liked afterwards, for Sir Simon's denying your company to me, after I had obtained the favour of your mamma's consent, and you were kindly inclined yourself to oblige me : and that was, that Sir Simon had a bad opinion of the honour of my dear Mr. B. For, as to that part of his doubt, which reflected dishonour upon his dear daughter, it Was all but the effect of his strange free humour, on purpose to vex you. That gentleman must be the most abandoned of men, who would at- tempt any thing against the virtue of a lady entrusted to his protection : and I am grieved, methinks, that the dear man, who is the better part of myself, and has to his own debasement, tfcted so honourably by me, should be thought capable of so much vileness. But forgive me, Miss ; it is only Sir Simon, I dare say, who could think so hardly of him : and I am in great hope, for the honour of the present age (quite contrary to the as- persion, that every age grows worse and worse) that the last, if it produced people capable of su*h attempts, was wickeder than this. Bad as Mr. B.'s designs and attempts were upon me, I can, now I am set above fearing them, and am enabled to reflect upon them with less terror and apprehension, be earnest, for his own dear sake, to think him PAMELA. 487 . Mrs. B.'s Apology for her Husband. pot, even then, the worst of men, though bad enough in all conscience : for have we not beard of those who have had no remorse or compunction* at all, and have actually executed all their vile purposes, when a poor crea- ture was in their power? Yet (indeed, after sore trials, that's true!) did not God turn his heart ? And although I was still helpless, and with- out any friend in the world, and in the hands of a poor vile woman, who, to be sure, was worse than he, provoking him to ruin me, and so wholly in his power, that I durst not disobey him, whether he bade me come to him, or be gone from him, as he was pleased or displeased with me; yet did he not overcome his criminal passion, and entertain an honourable one, though to his poor servant girl ; and brave the world and the world's censures, and marry me? And does not this show, that the seeds of honour were kept alive in his heart, though choked, or kept from sprouting forth, for a time, by the weeds of sensuality, pride, and youthful impetuosity ? And by cutting down the latter, have not the former taken root, have they not shot out, and in their turn, kept down, at least, the depressed weeds ? And who now lives more virtuously than Mr. B. ? Let me tell you, my dear Miss, that I have not heard of many instances of gentlemen, who, having designed vilely, have stopt short, and acted so honourably, and continued to act so nobly : and I have great confidence that he will, in time, be as pious as he is now moral ; for though he has a few bad notions, which he talks of now and then, as polygamy and such like, which, indeed, give me a little serious thought sometimes, because a man is too apt to practise what he has persuaded himself to believe is no crime : yet, I hope, they are owing more to the liveliness of his wit (a wild quality, which does not always confine itself to proper exercises) than to Lis judgment. And if I can but see the first three or four month's resi- dence over in that wicked London (which, they say, is so seducing a place) without adding to my apprehensions, how happy shall I be ?" So much, slightly, have I thought proper to say in behalf of my dear Mr. B. For a good wife cannot but hope for a sweeter and more elevated companionship (if her presumptuous heart makes her look upward with hope herself) than this transitory state can afford us. And what a sad case is her's, who, being as exemplary as human frailty will permit, look* forward upon the partner of her adverse, and of her prosperous estate, the husband of her bosom, the father of her children, the head of her family, as a poor unhappy soul, destined to a separate and a miserable existence for ever ! O my dear friend ! How can such a thought be sup- portable ! But what high consolation, what transport rather, at times, must her's be, who shall be blessed with the hope of being a humble instrument to reclaim such a dear, dear, thrice dear partner 'And that . k k 4 488 PAMELA. Mr. E.'s Allowances for Mr. Peter*. heart in heart, and hand io hand, they shall one day issue forth from this incumbered state, into a blessed eternity ; benefited by each other's exam- ple I I will lay down my pen, and enjoy the rich thought for a few moments. Now, my dear Miss, let me, as a subject very pleasing to me, touch upon your kind mention of the worthy Mr. Peters's sentiments to that part of his conduct to me, which (oppressed by the terrors and apprehensions to which I was subjected) once I censured ; and the readier, as I had so great an honour for his cloth, that I thought, to be a clergyman, and all that was compassionate, gdod, and virtuous, was the same thing. But when I came to know Mr. Peters, I had a high opinion of his wor- thiness, and as no one can be perfect in this life, thus I thought to myself: How hard was then my lot, to be the cause of stumbling to so worthy a heart. To be sure, a gentleman, one who knows and practises so well his duty, in every other instance, and preaches it so efficaciously to others, must have been one day sensible, that it wpuld not have misbecome his function vind character to have afforded that protection to oppressed innocence, which was requested of him ; and how would it have grieved his conside- rate mind, had my ruin been completed, that he did not But as he had once a namesake, as one may say, that failed in a much greater instance, let not my want of charity exced his fault ; but let me look upon it as an infirmity, to which the most perfect are liable : I was a stranger to him ; a servant girl carried off by her master, a young gentle- man of violent and lawless passions, who, in this very instance, shewed how ' much in earnest he was set upon effecting all his vile purposes ; and whose heart although Sod might touch, it was-not probable any lesser influence could. Then he was not sure, that, though he might assist my escape, 1 might not afterwards fall again into the hands of so determined a violator . and that difficulty would not, with such an one, enhance his resolution to overcome all obstacles. Moreover, he might think, that the person, who was moving him to this worthy measure, possibly sought to gratify a view of his own, and that while endeavouring to save, to outward appearance, a virtue in danger, he was, in reality, only helping another to a wife, at the hazard of exposing himself to the vindictiveness of a violent temper, and a rich neighbour, who had power as well as will to resent ; for such was his apprehension, entirely groundless as it was, though not improbable, as it might seem to him. Then again, the sad examples set by too many European sovereigns, in whom the royal and priestly offices are united (for are not kings the Lord' s anointed ?) and the little scruple which many persons, right reve- rend by their functions and characters, too generally make, to pay sordid courts and visits (far from' bearing their testimony against such practices; PAMELA. 489 k Mrs. B.'s Allowances for Mr. Peters. even to concubines, who have interest to promote them, are no small dis- couragements to a private clergyman to do his duty, and t*nake himself enemies among his powerful neighbours, for the cause of virtue. And es- pecially (forgive ine, dear Sir Simon Darnford, if you should see this) when an eminent magistrate, one of the principal gentlemen of the county, of an independent fortune, who had fine young ladies to his daughters (who had nothing but their superior conditions, not their sex, to exempt them from like attempts) a justice of peace, and of the quorum ; refused to be a justice, though such a breach of tYie j^eace was made, and such a violation . of morals plainly intended. This, I say, must add to the discouragement of a gentleman a little too diffident and timorous of himself; and who having no one to,second him, had he afforded me his protection, must have stood alone in the gap/and made to himself, in an active gentleman, an enemy who had a thousand desirable qualities to make one wish him for a friend. For all these considerations, I must pity, rather than too rigorously censure, the worthy gentleman, and I will always respect him. And thank him a thousand times, my dear, in my name, for his goodness in conde- scending to acknowledge, by your hand, his infirmity, as such ; for this gives an excellent p+oof of the natural worthiness of his heart ; and that it is beneath him to seek to extenuate a fault, when he thinks he has committed one. Indeed, my dear friend, I have so much honour for the clergy of all degrees, that I never forget in my prayers one article, that God wilL make them shining lights to the world ; since so much depends on their minis- try and examples, as well with respect to our public as private duties. Nor shall the faults of a few make impression upon me to the disadvan- tage of the order ; for I am afraid a very censorious temper, in thit respect, is too generally the indication of an uncharitable and perhaps a profligate heart, levelling characters, in order to cover some inward pride, or secret enormities, which they are a-shamed to avow, and will not be instructed to amend. Forgive, my dear, this' tedious scribble ; I cannot for my life write short letters to those I love. And let me hope that you will favour me with an account of your new affair, and how you proceed in it ; and with such ot your conversations, as may give me some notion of a polite courtship. For, alas! your poor friend knows nothing of this. All her courtship was sometimes a hasty snatch at the hand, a black and blue gripe of the arm, and "Whither now?" " Come to me when I bid you!" And saucy- face, and creature, and such like, on his part with fear and trembling r,n mine; and " I will, I will! Good Sir, have mercy!" At other 490 PAMELA. " ' Letter from Miss Darnford, times a scream, and nobody to hear or mind me ; and with uplift hands, bent knees, and tearful eyes " For God'&sake, pity your poor servant." This, r.y dear Miss Darnford, was the hard treatment that attended my courtt;..,: -pray, then, let me know, how gentlemen court their equals in degre* ; ho they look when they address you, with their knees bent, sighiii, supplicating, and all that, as Sir Simon says, with the words slave, servant, admirer, continually at their tongue's end. But after all, it will be found, I believe, that, be the language and behaviour ever so obsequious, it is all designed to end alike. The English, the plain English, of the politest address, is " I am now, dear Madam, your humble servant : pray be so good as to let me be your master." " Yes, and thank you too," says the lady's heart, though not her lips, if she likes him. And so they go to church together ; and, in conclusion, it will be happy, if these obsequious courtships end no worse than my frightful one. But I am convinced, that with a man of sense, at woman of tolerable prudence must be happy. That whenever you marry, it may be to such a man, who then must value you as you deserve, and make you happy as I now am, notwith- standing all that's past, wishes and prays your obliged friend and servant, P. B. N.B. Although Miss Darnford could not receive the ahove letter su soon, as to answer Jt before others were sent to her by her fair correspon- dent ; yet we think it not amiss to dispense with the order of time, that the reader may have the letter and answer at one view and shall on other occasions take the like liberty. LETTER XXV. In Answer to the preceding. MY DEAR MHS. B. YOU charm us all with your letters. Mr. Peters says, he will never go to bed, nor rise, but he will pray for you, and desires I will return his thankful acknowledgment for your favourable opinion of him, and kind allowances. If there be an angel on earth, he says, you are one. My papa, although he has seen your stinging reflection upon his refusal to protect you, is delighted with you too ; and says, when you come down to Lincolnshire again, he will be undertaken by you in good earnest: for he thinks it was wrong in him to deny you his protection. We afe pleased with your apology for Mr. B. 'Tis so much the part of a good wife to txtenuate her husband's faults, and make the best of his bad qualities, in order to give the world a good opinion of him, that, PAMELA. 491 in An'ver to t^e preceding. together with the affecting instances of your humility, in looking back, with so much true greatness of mind, to what you were, make us all join to admire you, and own, that nobody can deserve what you deserve. Yet I am sorry to find, notwithstanding y.iur defence of Mr. B. that yon have any apprehensions about London. ' Fis pity any thing should give you concern. As to Mr. B.'s talking in favour of polygamy, you cannot expect that he can shake off all his bad notions at once. And it must be a great comfort to you, that his actions do not correspond, and that his liberties have been reduced to notions only. In time, we hope that he will be every thing you wish. If not, with such an example before him, he will be the more culpable. We all smiled at the description of your own uncommon courtship. And, as they say, the days of courtship are the happiest part of life, if we had not known that your days of maVriage are happier by far than any other body's courtship, we must needs have pitied you. But as the one were days of trial and temptation, the others are days of reward and happiness : may the last always continue to be so, and you'll have no occasion to think any body happier than Mrs. B. ! I thank you heartily for your good wishes as to the man of sense. Mr. Murray has been here, and continues his visits. He is a lively gen- tleman, well enough in his person, has a tolerable character, yet loves company, and will take his bottle freely; my papa likes him ne'er the worse for that : he talks a good deal ; dresses gay, and even richly, and seems to like his own person very well no great pleasure this for a lady to look fonrard to ; yet he falls far short of that genteel ease, and grace- ful behaviour, which distinguish your Mr. B. from any body I know. I wish Mr. Murray would apply to my sister. She is an ill-natured girl: but would make a good wife, 1 hope; and fancy she'd like him well enough. I :an't say I do. He lauhs too much ; has something boisterous in his conversation : his complaisance is not pretty ; he is, however, well versed in country sports ; and my papa loves him for that too, and says " He is a most accomplished gentleman." " Yes Sir," cry 1, " as gentlemen go." " You must be saucy," s. n ys Sir Simon, " because the man offers him- self to your acceptance. A few years hence, perhaps, if you remain single, you'll alter your note, Polly, and be willing to jump at a much less worthy tender." I could not help answering that, although I paid due honour to all my papa was pleased to say, 1 could not but hope he would be mistaken in this. But I have broken my mind to my dear mamma, who tells me, she will do me all the pleasure she can; but would be loath the youngest 'aughtc-r should go first, as she calls it. But if I could come and live with 492 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. P. to Miss Darnford, you a little now and then, I did not care who married, unless such an one offered as I never expect. I have great hopes the gentleman will be easily persuaded to quit me for Kancy ; for I see he has not delicacy enough to lore with any great dis- tinction. He says, as my mamma tells me by the by, that 1 am the handsomest, and best humoured, and he has found out, as he thinks, that I have some wit, and have ease and freedom (and he tacks innocence to them) in my address and conversation. Tis well for me, he is of this opinion : for if he thinks justly, which I must question, any body may think go still much more ; for I have been far from taking pains to en- gage his good word, having been under more reserve to him, than ever } was before to any body. "* Indeed, I can't help it : for the gentleman is forward without delicacy ; and .(pardon me, Sir Simon) my papa has not one bit of it neither ; but is for pushing matters on, with his rough raillery, that puts me out of countenance, and has already adjusted the sordid part of the preliminaries, as he tells me. Yet I hope Nancy's three thousand pound fortune more than I am likely to have, will give her the wished for preference with Mr. Murray ; and then, as to a brother-in-law, in prospect, I can put off all restraint, and return to my usual freedom. This is all that occurs worthy of notice from us : but from you, we expect an account of Lady Davers's visit, and of the conversation that offer among you ; and you have so delightful a way of making every thing momentous, either by your subject or reflections, or both, that we long for every post-day, in hopes of the pleasure of a letter. And yours I will always carefully preserve, as so many testimonies of the honour I receive in this correspondence : which will be always esteemed as it deserves, by, my dear Mrs. B. your obliged and faithful Polly Darnford. Mrs. Peters, Mrs. Jones, my papa, mamma, and sister, present their respects. Mr. Peters I mentioned before. He continues to give a very jood account of poor Jewkes ; and is much pleased with her. LETTER XXVI. MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, AT your desire, and to oblige your honoured mamma, and your good neighbours, I will now acquaint you with the arrival of Lady Davers, and will occasionally write what passes among us, I will not say worthy of notice ; for were I not only to do so, I should be more brief, perhaps, by much, than you seem to expect. But as my time is pretty much taker. PAMELA. 493 giving an Account of Lady Davers's Visit. up, and I find I shall be obliged to write a bit now ( and a bit then, you must excuse me, if I dispense with some forms, which I ought to observej when I write to one I so dearly love ; and so I will give if journal-wise, as it were, and have no regard, when it would fetter or break in upon my freedom of narration, to inscription or subscription ; but send it as I have opportunity, and if you please to favour roe so far, as to lend it me, after you have read the stuff, for the perusal of my father and mother, to whom my duty and promise require me to give an account of my proceed- ings, it will save me transcription, for which I shall have no time; and then you will excuse blots and blurs, and I will trouble myself no farther for apologies on that score, but this once for all. If you think it worth while, when they hare read it you shall have it again, WEDNESDAY MORNING, SIX O'CLOCK, For my dear friend permits me to rise an hour sooner than usual, that I may have time to scribble ; for he is always pleased to see me so em- ployed, or in reading ; often saying, when I am at my needle (as his sister once wrote) " Vour maids can do this, Pamela; but they cannot write as you can." And yet, as he says, when I choose to follow my needle, as a diversion from too intense study (but, alas ! I know not what study is, as may be easily guessed by my hasty writing, putting down every thing as it comes : I shall then do as I please. But I promised at setting out, what a good wife I'd endeavour to make : and every honest body should try to be as good as her word, you know, and such particulars as I then mentioned, I think I ought to dispense with as little as possible; espe- cially as I promised no more than what was my duty to perform, if I had not premised. But what a preamble is here ? Judge by it what imperti- nences you may expect as I proceed. Yesterday evening arrived here my Lord and Lady Davers, their nephew and the Countess of C. mother of Lady Betty, whom we did not expect, but took it for the greater favour. It seems her ladyship longed, as she said, to see me; and this was her pnucipal inducement. The two ladies, and their two women, were in Lord Davers's coach and six, and my lord and bis nephew rode on horseback, attended with a train of servants. We had rxpected them to dinner ; but they could not reach tim* enough; for the countess being a little incommoded with her journey ; the coach travelled slowly. My lady would not suffer her lord, nor hi. nephew, to come hither before her, though on horseback, because she would be present, she said, when his lordship first saw me, he having quite forgot her mother's Pamela; that was her word. l\ rained when they came in ; si the coach drove directly to tin door 494 PAMELA. Loiter from Mrs. B. to Miss Darnlbrd. anil Mr. 13. received them there : but I was in a little sort of flutter, which Mr. B. observing, made me sit down in the parlour to compose myself. ** Where's Pamela ?" said my lady, as soon as she alighted. I stept out, lest she should take it amiss; and she took my hand, and kissed me : " Here, my lady countess," said she, presenting me to her, " here's the girl : see if I said too much in praise of her person." The countess saluted me with a visible pleasure in ber eye, and said, " Indeed, Lady Davers, you have not. 'Twould have been strange (ex- cuse me, Mrs. B. for 1 know your story) if such a fine flower had not been transplanted from the field to the garden." I made no return, but by a low curtsey, to her ladyship's compliment. Then Lady Davers taking my hand again, presented me to her lord : " See, here, my lord, my mother's Pamela." " And see here my lord," said her generous brother, taking my other band most kindly, " see here your brother's Pamela too !" My lord saluted me : " I do," said he to his lady, and to his brother ; " and I see the first person in her, that has exceeded my expectation, when every mouth had prepared me to expect a wonder." Mr. H. whom every one calls Lord Jaekey, after his aunt's example, when she is in good humour with him, and who is a very young gentle- man, though abut as old as my best friend, came to me next, and said> " Lovelier and lovelier, by my life ! I never saw your peer, Madam." Will you excuse me, my dear, all this seeming vanity, for the sake of repeating exactly what passed ? " Well, but," said my lady, taking my hand, in her free quality way, which quite dashed me, and holding it at a distance, and turning me half round, her eye fixed to my waist, " let me observe you a little, my sweet- faced girl ! I hope I am right : I hope you will do credit to my brother, as he has done you credit. Why do you let her lace so tight, Mr. B. ?" I was unable to look up, as you may believe, Miss: my face, all over scarlet, was hid in my bosom, and I looked so silly ! II Ay," said my naughty lady, " you may well look down, my good girl : for works of this nature will not be long hidden. And, O my lady" (to the countess) " see how like a pretty thief she looks !" " Dear my lady!" said I : for she still kept looking at me : and her good brother, seeing my confusion, in pity to me, pressed my blushing face a moment to his generous breast, and said, " Lady Davers, you should not be thus hard upon my dear girl, the moment you see her, and before so many witnesses : but look up, my best love, take your revenge of my sister, and tell her, you wish her in the same way." " It is so then ?" said my lady. " I'm glad of it with all my heart. I will now love you better and better : but I almost doubted it, seeing ier PAMELA. 495 .; iue Mi Account ol Lady Davers's Visit. still so sleudi r. But it, my good child, you lace too tight, I'll never for- give you." And so she gave me a kiss of congratulation, as she said. Do you think I did not look very silly ? My lord, smiling, and gazing at me from head to foot ; Lord Jackey grinning and laughing, like an oaf, as I then, in my spite, thought. Indeed the countess said, encou- ragingly to me, but severely on persons of birth, " Lady Da vers, you are as much too teasing, as Mrs. B. is too bashful. But you are a happy man, Mr. B. that your lady's bashfulness is the principal mark by which we can judge she is not of quality." Lord Jackey, in the language of some character in a play, cried out, " A palpable hit, by Jupiter .'" and laughed egregiously, running about from one to another, repeating the same words. We talked only upon common topics till supper time, and I was all ear, as I thought it became me to be ; for the countess had, by her first compliment, and by an aspect as noble as intelligent, overawed me, as I may say, into a respectful silence, to which Lady Davers's free, though pleasant raillery (which she could not help carrying on now and then) contributed. Besides, Lady Davers's letters had given me still greater reason to revere her wit and judgment than I had before, when I r-eflected on her passionate temper, and such parts of the conversation I had with her ladyship in your neighbourhood ; which (however to be admired) fell short of her letters. When we were to sit down at table, I looked, I suppose, a little diffi- dently : for I really then thought of my lady's anger at the hall, when she would not have permitted me to sit at table with her ; and Mr. B. saying, " Take your place, my dear, you keep our friends standing, 1 sat down in my usual seat. And my lady said, " None of your reproaching eye, Pamela ; J know what you hint at by it : and every letter I have received from you has made me censure myself for my lady-airs, as you call 'em, you sauce- box you : I told you, I'd lady-airs you when I saw you j and you shall have it all in good time." ' I am sure," said I, " I shall have nothing from your ladyship, but what will be very agreeable: but, indeed, I never meant any thing parti- cular by that, or any other word that I wrote ; nor could I think of any thing but what was highly respectful to your ladyship." Lord Davtjrs was pleased to say, that it was impossible I should either write or speak any thing that could be taken amiss. Lady Davtrs, after supper, and the servants were withdrawn, began a discourse on titles, and said, " Brother, I think you should hold yourself obliged to my Lord Davers ; for he has spoken to Lord S. who made him a visit a few days ago, to procure you a baronet's patent. Your estate, and the figure y,u make in the world, are so considerable, and your family 4S6 TAME LA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Darnford, ' ' ... besides is so ancient, that; nietbinks, you should wish for some distinction of that sort." . '* Yes, brother," said my lord* " I did mention it td Lord S. and told hinij withal, that it was without your knowledge or desire that I spok* about it ; and I was not very sure you would accept of it ; but 'tis a thing your sister has wished for a good while." " What answer did my Lord S. make to it ?" said Mr. B. " He said, ' We,' meaning the ministers, I suppose, ' should be glad .to oblige a man of Mr. B.'s figure in the world ; but you mention it so slightly, that you can hardly expect courtiers will tender it to any gentle- man that is so indifferent about it ; for, Lord Davers, we seldom grant honours without a view : I tell you that,' added he, smiling." " My Lord S. might mention this as a jest," returned Mr. fl. " but he spoke the truth. But your lordship said well, that I was indifferent about it. 'Tis true, 'tis a hereditary title ; but the rich citizens, who used to be satisfied with the title of Knight (till they made it so common, that it is brought into as great contempt almost as that of the French knights of St. Michael *, and nobody cares to accept of it) now are ambitious of this ; and, as I apprehend, it is hastening apace into like disrepute* Be- sides, 'tis a novel honour, and what the ancestors of our family, who lived at its institution, would never accept of. But were it a peerage, which has some essential privileges and splendours annexed to it, to make it desirable to some men, I would not enter into conditions for it. Titles at best," added he, " are but shadows ; .and he that has the substance should be above valuing them ; for who that has the whole bird would pride himself upon a single feather ?" " But," said my lady, " although I acknowledge that the institution if. of late date, yet, as abroad as well as at home it is regarded as a. title of dignity, and the best families among the gentry are supposed to be dis- tinguished by it, I should wish you to accept of it. And as to citizens who have it, they are not many ; and some of this class of people, or their immediate descendants, have brought themselves into the peerage itself of the one kingdom or the other." "As to what it is looked upon abroad," said Mr. B. " this is of no weight at all ; for when an Englishman travels, be he of what degree he will, if he has an equipage, and squanders his money away, he is a lord of course with foreigners : and therefore Sir such-an-one is rather a diminution to Lim, as it gives him a lower title than his vanity would perhaps make him aspire to be thought in the possession of. Then as to citizens, in a * This order was become ?o scandalously common in France, that, in order to Jnppie? it, the hangman was vrud uh the eloigns of it, which effectually abolished it. PAMELA. 497 < ' , . - , giving an Account of Lady Davers's Visit. i , trading nation like this, I atn not displeased in the main with seeing the overgrown ones creeping into nominal honours ; and we have so many of our first titled families, who have allied themselves to trade (who6e induce- ments were money only) that it ceases to be either a wonder as to the fact, or a disgrace as to the honour." " Well, brother," said my lady, " I will tell you farther, the thing may be had for asking for : if you will but go to court, and desire to kiss the king's hand, that will be all the trouble you'll have : and pray now oblige me in it." " If a title would make me either a better or a wiser man," replied Mr. B. " I would embrace it with pleasure. Besides, I am not so satisfied with some of the measures now pursuing, as to owe any obligation to the ministers. Accepting of a small title from them, is but like putting on their badge, or listing under their banners ; like a certain lord we all know, who accepted jf one degree more of title to shew he was theirs, and would not have a higher, lest it should be thought a satisfaction tantamount to half the pension he demanded : and could I be easy to have it suppose 1, that I was an ungrateful man for voting as I pleased, because they gave me the title of a baronet ?" The countess said, the world always thought Mr. B. to be a man of steady principles, and not attached to any party ; but, in her opinion, it was far from being inconsistent with any gentleman's honour and inde- pendency to accept of a title from a prinre he acknowledged as his sovereign. " 'Tis very true, Madam, that I am attached to no rarty, nor ever will ; and I have a mean opinion of many of the heads. of both ; nay, I will say farther, that I wish at my heart, the gentlemen in the administration would pursue such measures that I could give them every vote ; as 1 always will every one that l.can : and I have no very high opinion of those who, right or wrong, would distress or embarrass a government. For this is certain, that our governors cannot be always in the wrong ; and he therefore who never gives them a vote, must sometimes be in the wrong as well as they, and must, moreover, have some view he will not own. But in a country like ours, where ea.h of the legislative powers is in a manner independent, and designed as a check upon one another, I have, notwithstanding, so great an opinion of the necessity of an opposition sometimes, that I am convinced it is that which must preserve our consti- tution. I will therefore be a country gentleman, in the true sense of the word, and will accept of no favour that shall make any one think I would not be of the opposition when I think it a necessary one ; as, on the other band, I should scorn to make mysetf a round to any man's ladder of preferment, ur a caballer for the sake of nvy own." a 17 n 403 PAMELA. ' ' . -- Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Darnford, " You say well, brother," returned Lady Davers ; " but you may un- doubtedly keep your own principles and independency, and yet pay your duty to the king, and accept of this title ; for your family and fortune will be a greater ornament to the title, than the title to you." " Then what occasion have I for it, if that be the case, Madam ?" " Why, I can't say, but I should be glad you had it, for your family's sake, as it is a hereditary honour. Then it would mend the style of your Spouse here ; for the good girl is at such a loss for an epithet when she writes, that I see the constraint she lies under. It is, ' My dear gentle- man, my best friend, my benefactor, my dear Mr. S.' whereas Sir William would turn off her periods more roundly, and no other softer epithets would be wanting." ' To me," replied he, " who always desire to he distinguished as my Pamela's best friend, and think it an honour to be called her dear Mr. B. and her dear man, this reason weighs very little, unless there were no other Sir William in the kingdom than her Sir William : for I am very emulous of her favour, I can tell you, and think it no small distinction." I blushed at this too great honour, before such company, and was afraid my lady would be a little piqued at it. But after a pause, she said, " Well, then, brother, will you let Pamela decide upon this point ?" " Rightly put," said the countess. " Pray let Mrs. B. choose for you, Sir. R#y lady has bit the thing." " Very good, by my soul," says Lord Jackey ; " let my young aunt," that was his word, " choose for you, Sir." " Well, then, Pamela," said Mr. B. " give us your opinion, as to this point." " But, first," said Lady Daveis, " say you will be determined by it ; or lse she will be laid under a difficulty." " Well then," replied he, " be it so I will be determined by your opi- nion, my dear : give it me freely." Lord Jackey rubbed his hands together, " Charming, charming, as I hope to live ? By Jove, this is just as I wished !" " Well, now, Pamela," Said my lady, " speak your true heart without disguise : 1 charge you do." " Why then, gentlemen and ladies," said I, " if I must be so bold as to speak on a subject upon which, on several accounts, it would become me to be silent, I should be against the title ; but perhaps my reason is of too private a nature to weigh anything : and if so, it would not become me to have any choice at all." They all called upon me for my reason ; and I said, looking down a little abashed, " It is this : Here my dear Mr. B. has disparaged himself by distinguishing, as he has done, such a low creature as I ; and the world PAMELA. 499 giving an Account of Laciy Davers's Visit. will be apt to say, he is seeking to repair one way the honour he has lost another ! and then, perhaps, it will he attributed to my pride and ambition : ' Here,' they will perhaps say, ' the proud cottager will needs be a lady, in hopes to conceal her descent;' whereas, had I such a vain thought, it would be but making it the more remembered against both Mr. B. and myself. And indeed, as to my own part, I take too much pride in having . been lifted up into this distinction, for the causes to which I own it, your brother's bounty and generosity, than to be ashamed of what I was : only now and then I am concerned for his own sake, lest he should be too much censured. But this would not be prevented, but rather be promoted by the title. So I am humbly of opinion against the title." Mr. B. had hardly patience to hear me out, but came to me, and folding his arms about me, said, " Just as I wished, have you answered, my be- loved Pamela : I was never yet deceived in you ; no, not once." " Madam," said he to the countess, " Lord Davers, Lady Davers, do we want any titles, think you, to make us happy, but what we can confer upon ourselves ?" And he pressed my hand to his lips, as he always honours me most in company ; and went to his place highly pleased ; while his fine manner drew tears from my eyes, and made his noble sister's and the countess's glisten too. " Well, for my part," said Lady Davers, " thou art a strange girl : where, as my brother once said, gottest thou all this ?" Then pleasantly humorous, as if she was angry, she changed her tone, " What signify tby meek words and humble speeches, when by thy actions, as well as sentiments, thou re- flectest upon us all ? Pamela," said she, " have less merit, or take care to conceal it better, I shall otherwise have no more patience with thee, than thy monarch has just now shewn." The countess was pleased to say, " You're a happy couple indeed ! And I must neds repeat to you, Mr. B. four lines of Sir William Davenant, upon a lady who could not possibly deserve them so much as your's does . ' She ne'er saw courts ; but courts could have outdone With untaught looks, and an unpractis'd heart, Her nets the most prepar'd could never shun ; For nature spread them in the scorn of art.' " But, my dear Miss Darnford, how lucky one sometimes is, in having what one says well accepted ! Ay, that is all in all. Since tin' reason lor my answer was so obvious, that one in my circumstances could not have missed it. Vet what compliments had I upon it! 'Tis a sign they were ' prepmrrd to think well of me ; and that's my great delight and happiness. Such sort of entertainment as this you are to expect from your corres- pondent. 1 cannot do Letter than 1 can ; and it may :ipp<.ur such a mix* 500 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Darnford, ture of self-praise, vanity, and impertinence, that I expect you will tell me freely, as soon as this comes to your hand, whether it be tolerable to you. Yet I must write on, for my dear father and mother's sake, who re- quire it of me, and are prepared to approve of every thing that comes-from me, for no other reason but that : and I think you ought to leave me to write to them only, as I cannot hope it will be entertaining to any body else, without expecting as much partiality and favour from others, as I have from my dear parents. Mean time I conclude here my first conver- sation-piece ; and am, and will be, always yours, Sfc. P. B. LETTER XXVI 1. THtWtSDAY MORNING, SIX O'CLOCK. OUR breakfast conversation yesterday (at which only Mrs. VVorden, my lady's woman, and toy Polly attended) was so whimsically particular (though I doubt some of it, at least, will appear too trifling) that I must acquaint my dear Miss Darnford with it, who is desirous of knowing all that relates to Lady Davers's conduct towards me. You must know, then, I have the honour to stand very high in the graces of Lord Davers, who on every occasion is pleased to call me his good sisler, his dear sister, and sometimes his charming sister, and he says, he will not be out of my company for an hour together, while he stays here, if he can help it. My lady seems to relish this very well in the main, though she cannot quke so readily, yet, frame her mouth to the sound of the word sister as my lord does : of which this that follows is one instance. His lordship had called me by that tender name twice before, and say- ing, " I will drink another dish, 1 think, my good sister." My lady said, ** Your lordship has got a word by the end, that you seem mighty fond of : I have taken notice, that you have called Pamela sister, sistei; sister, no less than three times in a quarter of an hour." s My lord looked a little serious : " I shall one day," said he, " be allowed to choose my own words and phrases, I hope Your sister, Mr. B." added fie, " often questions whether I am at age or not, though the House of Peers made no scruple of admitting me among them some years ago." Mr. B. said, severely, bur. with a smiling air, " 'Tis well she has such a gentleman as your lordship for a husband, whose affectionate indulgence to her makes you overlook all her saucy sallies ! I am sure, when you took her out of our family into your own, we all thought ourselves, I in parti- cular, bound to pray for you." I thought this a great trial of my lady's patience : but it was from Mr. B. And she said, with a half-pleasant, half-serious air, " How now, confidftnre'None but my brother could have said this, whose violent PAMELA. 501 giving an Acconnt of Lady- Divrs's Visit. '- spirit was always much more intolerable than mine : but I can tell you, Mr. B. I was always thought very good-humoured and obliging to every body, till your impudence came from college, and from your travels ; and then I own, your provoking ways made me now and then a little out of the way." " Well, well, sister, we'll have no more of this subject ; only let us see that my Lord Davers wants not his proper authority with you, although you used to keep me in awe formerly." " Keep you in awe! That nobody could ever do yet, boy or man. But, my lord, I beg your pardon ; for this brother will make mischief betwixt us if he can I only took notice of the word sister so often used, which looked more like affectation than affection." " Perhaps, Lady Davers," said my lord, gravely, " I have two reasons for using the word so frequently." " I'd be glad to hear them," said the dear taunting lady ; " for I don't doubt they're mighty good ones. What are they, my lord ?" " One is, because I love, and am fond of my new relation : the other, that you are so sparing of the word, that I call her so for us both." " Your lordship says well," replied Mr. B. smiling : " and Lady Davers can give two reasons why she does not." " Well," said my lady, " now we are in for't, let us hear your two rea- sons likewise ; I doubt not they're wise ones too." " If they are yours, Lady Davers, rhcy must be so. One is, That every condescension ^to speak in a proud lady's dialect) comes with as much difficulty from her, as a favour from the House of Austria to the petty princes of Germany. The second, Because those of your sex (Excuse me, Madam," to the countess) " who have once made scruples, think it inconsistent with themselves to he over hasty to alter their own conduct, choosing rather to persist in an error, than own it to be one." This proceeded from his impatience to see mt in the least slighted by my lady ; and I said to Lord Davers, to soften matters, " Never, my lord, were brother and si->tc-r so loving in earnest, and yet so satirical upon each other in jest, as my good lady and Mr. B. But your lordship knows their way." My lady frowned at her brother, but turned it off with an air : " I love the mistress of this house," said she, " very well ; and am quite reconciled to her : but methinks there is such a hissing sound in the word sister, that I cannot abide it. Tis a true English word, but a word I have not been used to, having never had a sis-s-ter before, as you know" "Speak- ing the first syllable of the word with an emphatical hiss. Mr. B. said, " Observe you not, Lady Davers, that you used a word (to avoid that) which bad twice the hissing in it that sister has ? And that Ll3 502 PAMELA. m Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Dainfortl, was mis-s-s-tress, with two other hissing words to accompany it, of this-s-s hous-s-e . but to what childish follies does not pride make one stoop ! Excuse, Madam" (to the countess) " such poor low conversation as we are dwindled into." " O Sir," said her ladyship, " the conversation is very agreeable ; and I think, Lady Davers, you're fairly caught." " Well," said my lady, " then help me, good sister there's for you '. to a little sugar. Will that please you, Sir?" " I am always pleased," replied her brother, smiling, " when Lady Davers acts up to her own character, and the good sense she is mistress of." " Ay, ay, my good brother, like otherwise men, takes it for granted that it is a mark of good sense to approve of whatever he does. And so, for this one time, I am a very sensible body with him And I'll leave off, while I h*ve his good word. Only one thing I must say to you, my dear," turning to me, " that though I call you Pamela, as I please, be assured, I love you as well as if I called you sister, as Lord Davers does, at every word." " Your ladyship gives me great pleasure," said I, " in this kind assur- ance ; and I don't doubt but I shall have the honour of being called by that tender name, if I can be so happy as to deserve it ; and I'll lose no opportunity that shall be afforded me, to show how sincere I will endeavour to do so." She was pleased to rise from her se.it : " Give me a kiss, my dear girl ; you deserve every thing : and permit me to say Pamela sometimes, as the word occurs : for I am not used to speak in print ; and I will call you sister when I think of it, and love you as well as ever sister loved another." " These proud and passionate folks," said Mr. B. " how good they ean be, when they reflect a little on what becomes their characters '." " So, then," rejoined my lady, " I am to have no merit of my own, I see, do what I will. This is not quite so generous in my brother, as one might expect." " Why, you saucy sister excuse me, Lord Davers what merit would you assume ? Can people merit by doing their duty? And is it so great a praise, that you think fit to own for a sister so deserving a girl as this, whom I take pride in calling my wife?" " Thou art what thou always wert," returned my lady ; " and were I in this my imputed pride to want an excuse, I know not the creature living, that ought so soon to make one for me, as you." " I do excuse you," said he, " for that very reason, if you please : but it little becomes either your pride, or mine, to do any thing that wants excuse." PAMELA. 503 giving an Account of Lady Pavers'* Visit. ** Mighty moral ! mighty grave, truly ? Pamela, friend, sister there's for you ! thou art a happy girl to have made such a reformation in thy honest man's way of thinking as well as acting. But now we are upon this topic, and jjnly friends about us, I am resolved to be even with tbee, brother Jackey, if you are not for another dish, I wish you'd withdraw.- Polly Barlow, we don't want you. Beck, you may stay." Mr. H. obeyed ; aud Polly went out ; for you must know, Miss, that my Lady Davers will have none of the men-fellows, as she calls them, to attend upon us at tea. And I cannot say but I think her entirely in the right, for several reasons that might be given. When they were withdrawn, my lady repeated, " Now we are upon this topic of reclaiming and reformation, tell me, thou bold wretch ; for you know I have seen all your rogueries in Pamela's papers ; tell me, if ever rake but thyself made such an attempt as thou didst on this dear good girl, in presence of a virtuous woman, as Mrs. Jervis was always noted to be ? As to the other vile creature, Jewkes, 'tis less wonder, although in that thou hadst the impudence of him who set thee to work : but to make thy at- tempt before Mrs Jervis, and in spite of her struggles and reproaches, was the very stretch of shameless wickedness." Mr. B. seemed a little disconcerted, and said, " Surely, Lady Davers, this is going too far ! Look at Pamela's blushing face, and downcast eye, and wonder at yourself for this question, as much as you do at me for the action you speak of." The countess said to me, " My dear Mrs. B. 1 wonder not at this sweet confusion on so affecting a question ! but, indeed, since it is come in so naturally, I must say, Mr. B. that we have all, and my daughters too, won- dered at this, more than at any part of your attempts ; because, Sir, we thought you one of the most civilized men in England, and that you could not but wish to have saved appearances at least.'' " Though this is to you, my Pamela, the renewal of griefs ; yet hold up your dear face. You may The triumph was yours the shame and the blushes ought to he mine And 1 will humour my saucy sister in all she would have me say." " Nay," said Lady Davers, " you know the question ; I cannot put it stronger." " Thai'-; very true," replied he : " hut would you expect I should give you a reason for an attempt that appears to you so very shocking ?" " Nay, Sir," said the countess, " don't say upjicars to I*ady Davers ; for (excuse me) it will appear so to every one who hears of it." " I think my brother is too hardly used," said Lord Davers ; " he has made all the amends he could make : and i/ou, my si^ti r, who were the person offended, forgive him now, 1 hope ; don't you ?" LI 4 504 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. R. to Miss Parul'ord, I could not answer ; for I was quite confounded ; and made a motion to withdraw; but Mr. B. said, " Don't go, my dear : though I ought to be ashamed of an action set before me in so full a glare, in presence of Lord Pavers and the countess ; yet I will not have you stir, because 1 forget how you represented it, and you must tell me." " Indeed, Sir, I cannot," said I : " pray, my dear ladies pray, my good lord and, dear Sir, don't thus renew my griefs, as you were pleased justly to phrase it." " I have the representation of that scene in my pocket," said my lady ; " for I was resolved, as I told Lady Betty, to shame the wicked wretch with it the first opportunity ; and I'll read it to you : or rather, you shall read it yourself, bold-face, if you can." So she pulled those leaves out of her pocket, wrapped up carefully in a paper. " Here I believe he who could act thus, must read it ; and, to spare Pamela's confusion, read it to yourself ; for we all know how it was." " I think," said he, taking the papers, " I can say something to abate the heinousness of this heavy charge, or else I should not stand thus at the insolent bar of my sister, answering her interrogatories." I send you, my dear Miss Darnford, a transcript of the charge, as fol- lows : To be sure, you'll say, he was a very wicked man. [See p. 44. et seqi\ Mr. B. read this to himself, and said, " This is a dark affair, as here stated ; and I can't say, but Pamela, and Mrs. Jervis too, had great reason to apprehend the worst : but surely readers of it, who were less parties in the supposed attempt, and not determined at all events to condemn me, might have made a more Favourable construction for me, than you, Lady Davers, have done in the strong light in which you have set this heinous matter before us." " However, since my lady," bowing to the countess, " and Lord Davers seem to expect me particularly to answer this black charge, 1 will, at a proper time, if agreeable, give you a brief history of my passion for this dear girl: how it commenced and increased, and my own struggles with it, and this will introduce, with some little advantage to myself perhaps, what 1 have to say, as to this supposed attempt : and at the same time enable you the better to account for some facts which you have read iu my pretty accuser's papers." This pleased everyone, and they begged him to begin then; but he said, it was time we should think of dressing, the morning being far advanced ; and if no company came in, he would, in the afternoon, give them the particulars they desired to hear. The three gentlemen rode out, and returned to dress before dinner : my lady and the countess also took an airing in the chariot. Just as they returned, compliments came from several of the neighbouring ladies to PAMELA. 505 giving an Account of Lady Davcrs's Visit. our noble guests, on their arrival in these parts ; and to as many as sent, Lady Davers desired their companies for to-inorrow afternoon, to tea : but Mr. B. having fallen in with some of the gentlemen likewise, he told me, we should have most of Our visiting neighbours at dinner, and desired Mrs. Jervis might prepare accordingly for them. After dinner Mr. H. took a ride out, attended by Mr. Colbrand, of whom he is very fond, ever since he frightened Lady Davers's footmen at the hall, threatening to chine them, if they offered to stop his lady : for, he says, he loves a man of courage ; Very probably knowing his own defects that way, for my lady often calls him a chicken-hearted fellow. And then Lord and Lady Davers, and the countess, revived the subject of the morn- ing ; and Mr. B. was pleased to begin in the manner I shall mention by- and-by. For here I am obliged to break off. Now, my dear Miss Darnford, I will proceed. " I need not," said Mr. B. " observe to any body who knows what love is (or rather that violent passion which we mad young fellows are apt to miscall love) what mean things it puts one upon ; how it unmans, and levels with the dust, the proudest spirit. In the sequel of my story you will observe several instances of this truth. " I began very early to take notice of this lovely girl, even when she was hardly thirteen years old ; for her charms increased every day, not only in my eye, but in the eyes of all who beheld her. My mother, as you (Lady Davers) know, took the greatest delight in her, always calling her, her Pamela, her good child : and her waiting-maid and her cabinet of rarities were her boasts, and equally shewn to every visitor : for besides the beauty of her figure, and the genteel air of her person, the dear girl had a surprising memory, a solidity of judgment above her years, and a docility so unequalled, that she took all parts of learning which her lady, as fond of instructing her as she of improving by instruction, crowded upon her: insomuch that she had masters to teach her to dance, sing, and play on the spinet, whom she every day surprised by the readiness wherewith she took e^cry thing. " I remember once, my mother praising her girl before me, and my aunt B. (who is since dead) I could not but notice her fondness for ber, and said, ' What do you design, Madam, to do with or for this Pamela of yours ? The accomplishments you give her will do her more hurt than good : for they will set her so much above her degree, that what you intend as a kindness, may prove her ruin " My aunt joined with me, and spoke in a still stronger manner against giving her such an education ; and added, as I well remember, ' Surely, sister, you do wrong. One would think, if one knew not my nephew's discrtet pride, that you design her for something more than your cwn waiting-maid.' 506 PAMELA. Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. " Ah ! sister,' said the old lady, 'there is no fear at what you hint at ; his family pride, and stately temper, will secure my son : he has too much of his father in him And as for Pamela, you know not the girl. She has always in her thoughts, and in her mouth too, her parents' mean condition, and I shall do nothing for them, at least at present, though they are honest folks, and deserve well, because I will keep the girl humble. " But what can I,do with the little baggage ?' continued my mother ; * she coriquers every thing so fast, and has such a thirst after knowledge, and the more she knows, I verily think, the humbler she is, that I cannot help letting go, as my son, when a little boy, used to do to his kite, as fast as she pulls : and to what height she'll soar, I can't tell. " I intended,' proceeded the good lady, * at first, only to make her mistress of some fine needle-work, to qualify her (as' she has a delicacy in her person that makes it a pity ever to put her to hard work) for a gen- teel place : but she masters that so fast, that now as my daughter is mar- ried and gone from me, I am desirous to qualify her to divert and entertain me in my thoughtful hours : and were you, sister, to know what she is capable of, and how diverting her innocent prattle is to me, and her natural simplicity, which I encourage her to preserve amidst all she learns, you would not, nor my son neither, wonder at the pleasure I take in her. Shall I call her in ?' " I don't want,' said I, ' to have the girl called in : if you, Madam, are diverted with her, that's enough. To be sure, Pamela is a better com- panion for a lady, than a monkey or a harlequin : but I fear you'll set her above herself, and make her vain and pert ; and that, at last, in order to support her pride, she may fall into temptations which may be fatal to herself, and others too.' " I'm glad to hear this from my sort,' replied the good lady. ' But the moment I see my favour puffs her up, I shall take other measures.' " Well,' thought I to myself, ' 1 only want to conceal my views from your penetrating eye, my good mother ; and I shall one day take as much delight in your girl, and her accomplishments, as you now do : so go on, and improve her as fast as you will. I'll only now and then talk against her, to blind you ; and doubt not that all j-ou do will qualify her the better for my purpose. Only,' thought I, ' fly swiftly on, two or three more tardy years, and I'll nip this bud by the time it begins to open, and place it in my bosom for a year or two at least : for so long, if the girl behaves worthy of her education, I doubt not, she'll be new to me.' Excuse me ladies ; excuse me, Lord Davers ; if I am not ingenuous, I had better be silent." I will not interrupt this affecting narration, by mentioning my own alternate blushes, confusions, and exclamations, as the naughty man went on ; nor the censures, and many Out upon you's of the attentive ladies, PAMELA. 507, - ! * ' ~ <'- ' - Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. and Fie, brother's, of Lord Davers : nor yet with apologies for the praises on myself, so frequently intermingled contenting myself to give you, as near as I can recollect, the very sentences of the dear relator. And as to our occasional exclaimings and observations, you may suppose what they were. " So," continued Mr. B. " I went on dropping hints against her now and then ; and whenever I met her in the psssages about the house, or in the garden, avoiding to look at, or to speak to her, as she passed me, curtseying, and putting on a thousand bewitching airs of obligingness and reverence ; while I (who thought the best way to demolish the influence of such an education, would be not to alarm her fears on one hand, or to familiarize myself to her on the other, till I came to strike the blow) looked haughty and reserved, and passed by her with a stiff nod at most. Or, if I spoke, ' How does your lady this morning, girl ? I hope she rested well last night :' then, covered with blushes, and curtseying at every word, as if she thought herself unworthy of answering my questions, ihe'd trip away in a kind of confusion, as soon as she had spoken. And once I heard her say to Mrs. Jervis, ' Dear Sirs, my young master spoke to me, and called me by my name, saying How slept your lady last night, Pamela ? Was not that very good, Mrs. Jervis ?' Ay,' thought I, ' I am in the right way, I find : this will do in proper time. Go on, my dear mother, improving as fast as yon will : I'll engage to pull down in three hours, what you'll be building up in as many years, in spite of all the lessons you can teach her.* " 'Tis enough for me, that I am establishing in you, ladies, and in you, my lord, a higher esteem for my Pamela (1 am but too sensible I shall lose a good deal of my own reputation; in the relation I am now giving you. Every one but my mother, who however had no high opinion of her son's virtue, used to look upon me as a rake ; and I got the name, not very- much to my credit, you'll say, as well abroad as in England, of The sohrr rake; some would say, The genteel rake; nay, for that matter, some pretty hearts, that have smarted for their good opinion, have railed tin; The handsome rake: but whatever other epithet I was distinguished by, it all couched in rake or libertine; nor was I much offended at the charac- ter; for, thought I, if a lady knows this, and will come into my company, half the ceremony between us is over ; and if she calls me so, I shall have an excellent excuse to punish her freedom, by greater of my own. '* So I dressed, grew more confident, and as insolent withal, as if, though I had not Lady Davers's wit and virtue, I had all her spirit (excuse me, Lady Davers ;) and having a pretty bold heart, which rather put me upon courting than avoiding a danger or difficulty, I had hut too much my way with every body ; and many a menaced complaint have I 50S PAMELA. Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. looked down, with a haughty air, and a promptitude, like that of Colbrand'* to your footmen at the hall, to clap my band to my side : which was ot the greater service to my bold enterprises, as two or three gentlemen had found I knew how to be in earnest." " Ha 1" said my lady, " thou wast ever an impudent fellow : and many a vile roguery have I kept from my poor mother. Yet, to roy knowledge, she thought you no saint." ** Ay, poor lady," continued he, " she used now and then to catechize me ; and was sure I was not so good as I ought to be : ' For, son,' she would cry, * these late hours, these all-night works, and to come home so sober cannot be right. I'm not sure, if I were to know all (and yet I'm- afraid of inquiring after your ways) whether I should not have reason to wish you were brought home in wine, rather than to come in so sober, and so late, as you do.' " Once, I remember, in the summer time, I came home about six in the morning, and met the good lady unexpectedly by the garden back-door, of which I had a key to let myself in at all hours. 1 started, and would have avoided her : but she called me to her, and then I approached her with an air, ' What brings you, Madam, into the garden at so early an hour ?' turning my face from her ; for I had a few scratches on my fore- head with a thorn, or so which I feared she would be more inquisitive about than I cared she 6hould. "And what makes you,' said she, ' so early here, Billy? What a rakish figure dost thou make I One time or other these courses will yield you but little comfort, on reflection : would to God thou wast but happily married ?' " So, Madam, the old wish ! I'm not so bad as you think me : I hope I have not merited so great a punishment.' " These hints I give, not as matter of glory, but shame : yet I ought to tell you all the truth, or nothing. ' Mean time,' thought I (for I used to have some compunction for my vile practices, when cool reflection, brought on by satiety, had taken hold of me) ' I wish this sweet girl was grown to years of susceptibility, that I might reform this wicked course of life, and not prowl about, disturbing honest folks' peace, and endangering myself.' And as I had, by a certain very daring and wicked attempt, in which, however, 1 did not succeed, set a hornet's nest about my ears, which I began to apprehend would sting me to death, having once escaped an ambush by dint of mere good luck ; I thought it better to remove the seat of my warfare into another kingdom, and to be a little more discreet for the future in my amours. So I went to France a second time, and passed a year there in the best of company, and with some improvement fcoth in my morals and understanding ; and had a very few sallies, eon- PAMELA. 509 Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. 1 aidering my love of intrigue, and the ample means I had to prosecute successfully all the desires of my heart. if When I returned, several matches were proposed to me, and my good mother often requested me to make her so happy, as she called it, as to ee me married before she died : but I could not endure the thoughts of the state ; for I never saw a lady whose temper and education I liked, or with whom I thought I could live tolerably. She used in vain therefor to plead family reasons to me : like most young fellows, I was too much a self-lover, to pay so great a regard to posterity; and, to say truth, had little solicitude at that time, whether my name were continued or not, in my own descendants. However, I looked upon my mother's Pamela with no small pleasure, and I found her so much improved, as well in per- son as behaviour, that I had the less inducement either to renew my intriguing life, or to think of a married state. " Vet, as my mother had all her eyes about her, as the phrase is, 1 affected great shiness, both before her, and to the girl ! for I doubted not, my very looks would be watched by them both ; and what the one discovered would not be a secret to the other ; and laying myself open too early to a suspicion, I thought, would but ice the girl over, and make her lady more watchful. " So I used to go into my mother's apartment, and come out of it, with- out taking the least notice of her, but put on stiff airs ; and, as she always withdrew when I came in, I never made any pretence to keep her there. " Once, indeed, my mother, on my looking after her, when her back was turned, said, ' My dear-son, I don't like your eye following my girl so intently. Only I know that sparkling lustre natural to it, or I should have some fear for my Pamela, as she grows older.' " / look after her, Madam ! My eyes sparkle at such a girl as that ! No indeed! She may be your favourite as a waiting-maid; but I see no- thing but clumsy curtseys and awkward airs about her. A little rustic affectation of innocence, that to such as cannot see into her,* may pass well enough.' ' Nay, my dear,' replied my mother, ' don't say that, of all things She has no affectation, I am sure.' " Yes, she has, in my eye, Madam ; and I'll tell you how it is : you have taught her to assume the airs of a gentlewoman, to dance, and to enter a room with a grace ; and yet bid her keep her low birth and family in view : and between the one character which she wants to get into, and the other she dares not get out of, she trips up and down luincingly, and knows not how to set her feet : so 'tis the same in every gesture her arms she knows not whether to swim with, or to hold before her, nor whether to bold her head up or down ; and so does neither, but hangs it 610 x PAMELA. Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. on one siiV? : a little .awkward piece of one and t'other 1 think her. indeed, you'd do the girl more kindness to put her into your da to keep her about your person ; for she'll be utterly spoiled^ 1 any useful purpose * '* Ah, son !'. said she, ' I fear, by your description, you have minded her too much in one sense, though not enough in another. Tis not my intention to recommend her to your notice, of all men - T and I doubt not, if it please God I live, and she continues a good girl, but she will make a man of some middling genteel business very happy.' " Pamela came in just then, with an air so natural, so humble, and yet so mnch above herself, that I was forced to turn my head from her, lest ihy mother should watch my eye again, and I he inclined to do her that justice, which my heart assented to, but which my lips had just before denied her. " All my difficulty, in apprehension, was my good mother ; the effect of whose lessons to her girl, I was not as much afraid of as her vigilance. ' For,' thought I, ' I see by the delicacy of her person, the brilliancy of her eye, and the sweet apprehensiveness that plays about every feature of her face, she must have tinder enough in her constitution to catch a well- struck spark ; and I'll warrant I shall know how to set her in a blaze, in a few months more." : " Yet I wanted, as I passed, to catch her attention too : I expected her to turn after me, and look so as to shew a liking towards me ; for I had a great opinion of my person and air, which had been fortunately distin- guished by the ladies, whom, of course, my vanity made me allow to be very good judges of these outward advantages. " I'll give your ladyships an instance of it in a catch I made extempore to a lady whom I had been urging to give me some proofs of a love, that I had the confidence to tell her, I was sure she had in her heart for me : she was a lively lady ; and, laughing, said, whoever admired me, it must be for my confidence, and nothing else : but urging her farther, Why,' said she, brazen man' (for she called names, like Lady Davers) * what would you have me say ? I would love you if I could : But' Here inter- rupting" her and putting on a free air, I half said and half sung ' You'd love me, you say, if you could ! Why, thou mak'st me a very odd creature ; I pr'ythee survey me again . What can'st thou object to my feature ! ' ' This shewed my vanity . and I answered for the lady TVhy nothing Very well Then I'm sure you'll admit; That the choice I have made is a sign of my wit,' PAMELA. Sll Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. " But to my great disappointment, Pamela never, by any favourable glance, gave the least encouragement to my vanity. * Well,' thought I, * this girl has certainly nothing ethereal in her mould : all unauimated clay ! But the dancing and singing airs my mother is teaching her will better qualify her in time, and another year will ripen her into my arms, no doubt of it. Let me only go on thus, and make her fear me : that will enhance in her mind every favour I shall afterwards vouchsafe to shew her: and never question old humdrum Virtue,' thought I, 'but the tempter w'tfhout, and the tempter within, will be too many for the per- versest nicety that ever the sex boasted.' " Yet, though I could not once attract her eye towards me, she never failed to draw mine after her, whenever she went by me, or wherever I saw her, except, as I said, in my mother's presence ; and particularly when she had passed me, and could not see me look at her without turning her head, as 1 expected so often from her in vain. " You will wonder, Lord Davers, who, I suppose, was once in love, or you'd never have married such a hostile spirit as my sister's there " " Go on, sauce-box," said she, " I won't interrupt you." ' You will wonder how I could behave so coolly as to escape all dis- cover} so long from a lady so watchful as my mother, and from *he appre- hensiveness of the girl ; for, high or low, every individual of the sex is quick as lightning to imaginations of this kind: and besides, well says frhe poet < Men without love have oft so cunning grown, That something like it they have shown ; But none who had it, e'er seem'd to have none. Love's of a strangely open, simple kind, Can no art or disguises find ; But thinks none sees it, 'cause itself is blind.' " But, to say nothing of her tender years, and that my love was not of . this bashful sort, I was not absolutely determined, so great was my pride, that I ought to think her worthy of being my mistress, when I had not much reason, as I thought, to despair of prevailing upon persons of higher birth (were 1 disposed to try) to live with me upon my own terms. My pride, therefore, kept my passion at bay, as I may say: so far was I from imagining I should ever be brought to what has since happened ! But to proceed : " Hitherto my miitd was taken up with the beauties of her person only. My f.Y had drawn my heart after it, without giving myself any trouble about that sense and judgment which my mother was always praising in her Pamela, as exceeding her years and opportunities: but an occasion happened, which, though slight in iUelf; took the HEAD into tho pirty, 512 * PAMELA. Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. and I thought of her, young as she was, with a distinction, that before I had not for her. It was this : *' Being with my mother in her closet, who was talking to me on the old subject, matrimony, I saw Pamela's common- place book, as I may call it ; in which, by her lady's direction, from time to time, she had transcribed from the Bible, and ouitr good books, such passages as most impressed her as she read A method, I take it, my dear" (turning to me) *' of great service to you, as it initiated you into writing with that freedom and ease, which shine in your saucy letters and journals ; and to which my present fetters are not a little owing : just as pedlars catch monkeys in the baboon kingdoms, provoking the attentive fools, by their own ex- ample, to put on shoes and stockings, till the apes of imitation, trying to do thelike, entangle their feet, and so cannot escape upon the boughs of the tree of liberty, on which before they were wont to hop and skip about, and play a thousand puggish tricks.. " I observed the girl wrote a pretty hand, and very swift and free ; and affixed her points or stops with so much judgment (her years consi- dered) that I began to have a high opinion of her understanding. Some observations likewise upon several of the passages were so just and solid, 1 that I could not help being tacitly surprised at them. *' My mother watched my eye, and was silent : I seemed not to observe that she did ; and after a while, laid down the book, shutting it with great indifference, and talking of another subject. " Upon this, my mother said, ' Don't you think Pamela writes a pretty hand, son?' " I did not mind it much,' said I, with a careless air. ' This is her writing, is it ?' taking the book, and opening it again, at a place of Scripture. ' The girl is mighty pious !' said 1. " I wish you were so, child.' ** I wish so too, Madam, if it would please you.' " I wish so, for your own sake, child.' ** So do 1, Madam ;' and down I laid the book again very carelessly. " Look once more in it,' said she, ' and see if you can't open it upon some place that may strike you.' *' I opened it at * Train up a child in the way it should go, &c.' ' I fancy,' said I, ' when I was of Pamela's age, I was pretty near as good as she.' " Never, never,' said my mother ; ' I am sure I took great pains with you j but, alas '. to very little purpose. You had always a violent head- strong will.* " Some allowances for boys and girls, I hope, Madam j but you see I am as good for a man as my sister for a woman.' *[ No indeed, you are not, I do assure you.' PAMELA. 513 *- Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. " I am sorry for that, Madam : you give me a sad opinion of myself.' " Brazen wretch !" said my lady ; " but go on." " Turn to one of the girl's observations on some text,' said my mptber. " I did ; and was pleased with it more than I would own. ' The girl's well enough,' said I, * for what she is ; but let's see what she'll be a few years hence. Then will be the trial.' " She'll be always good, I doubt not.' " So much the better for her. But can't we talk of any other subject ? You complain how seldom I attend you ; and when you are always talk- ing of matrimony, or of this low-born, raw girl, it must needs lessen the pleasure of approaching you." " But now, as I hinted to you, ladies, and my lord, I had a still higher opinion of Pamela j and esteemed her more worthy of my attempts. ' For," thought I, ' the girl has good sense, and it will be some pleasure to watch by what gradations she may be made to rise into love, and into a higher life, than that to which she was born.' And so I began to think she would be worthy in time of being my mistress, which, till now, as I said before, 1 had been a little scrupulous about. " I took a little tour soon after this, in company of some friends with whom I had contracted an intimacy abroad, into Scotland and Ireland, they having a curiosity to see those countries, and we spent six. or eight months on this expedition ; and when I bad landed them in France, I returned home, and found my good mother in a very indifferent state of health, but her Pamela arrived to a height of beauty and perfection which exceeded all my expectations. I was so taken with her charms when I first saw her, which was in the garden, with a book in her hand, just come out of a little summer-house, that I then thought of obliging her to go back again, in order to begin a parky with her : but while I was resolving, she tript away with her curtseys and reverences, and was out of my sight before 1 could determine. " I wai resolved, however, not to be long without her ; and Mrs. Jewkes ^having been recommended to me a little before, by a brother rake, as a woman of tried fidelity, I asked her if she would be faithful, if I had occa- sion to commit a pretty girl to her care? " She hoped, she taid, it would be with the lady's own consent, and she should make no scruple in obeying me. " So I thought I would waylay the girl, and carry her first to a little village in Northamptonshire, to an acquaintance of Mrs. Jewkes's. And when 1 had brought her to be e* c y and pacified a little, I designed that Jewkes should attend her to Lincolnshire ; for I knew there was no coming at her here, under my mother's wing, by her own consent, and that to offer terms to her, would be to blow up my project all at once. b 17 M M 514 PAMELA. - ' - i , , , . i Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passi n for Pamela. 11 " ' * ' :, r=: Besides, I was sensible that Mrs. Jervis would stand in the way of my proceedings as well as my mother. " The method I had contrived was quite easy, as I imagined, and such as could not have failed to answer my purpose, as to carrying her off; and I doubted not of making her well satisfied in her good fortune very quickly ; for having a notion of her affectionate duty to her parents, I was not displeased that I could make the terms very easy and happy to them all. " What most stood in my way, was my mother's fondness for her : but supposing I had got her favourite in my hands, which appeared to me, as I said, a task very easy to be conquered, I had actually formed a letter }'or her to transcribe, acknowledging a love affair, and laying her with- drawing herself so privately to an implicit obedience to her husband's commands, to whom she was married that morning, and who, being a young gentleman of genteel family, and dependent on_his friends, was desirous of keeping it all a profound secret ; and begging, on that account, her lady not to divulge it so much as to Mrs. Jervis. " And to prepare for this, and make her escape the more probable, when matters were ripe for my plot, I came in one night, and examined all the servants, and Mrs. Jervis, the latter in my mother's hearing, about a genteel young man, whom I pretended to find with a pillion on the horse he rode upon, waiting about the back-door of the garden, for some- body to come to him ; and who rode off, when I came up to the door, as fast as he could. Nobody knew any thing of that matter, and they were much surprised at what I told them : but I begged Pamela might he watehed, and that no one would say any thing to her about it. " My mother said, she had two reasons not to speak of it to Pamela -. one to oblige me : the other and chief, because it would break the poor innocent girl's heart to be suspected. * Poor dear child !' said she, * whi- ther can she go, to be so happy as with me ? Would it not be inevitable ruin to her to leave me ? There is nobody comes after her : she receives no letters, but now and then one from her father and mother, and those she shews me.' " Well,' replied I, ' I hope she can have no design ; 'twould be strange if she had formed any to leave so good a mistress ; but you can't be sure all the letters she receives are from her father ; and her shewing to you those he writes, looks like a cloak to others she may receive from another hand. Bat it can be no harm to have an eye upon her. You don't know. Madam, what tricks there are in the world.' " Not I, indeed ; but only this I know, that the girl shall be under no restraint, if she is resolved to leave me, well as I love her.' " Mrs. Jervis said, she would have an eye upon Pamela, in obedience PAMELA. 515 Mr. B. relate* the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. to my command ; but she was sure there was no need ; nor would she so much wound the poor child's peace, as to mention the matter to her. " This I suffered to blow off, and seemed to my mother to have so good an opinion of her Pamela, that I was sorry, as I told her, I had such a surmise : saying, that though the fellow and the pillion were odd circum- stances, yet I darwd to say, there was nothing in it : for I doubted not the girl's duty and gratitude would hinder a foolish or rash thing. " This my mother heard with pleasure : although my motive was but to lay Pamela on the thicker to her, when she was to be told she had escaped. ** She was glad I was not an enemy to the poor child. ' Pamela has no friend but me,' continued she ; ' and if I don't provide for her, I shall have done her more harm than- good (as you and your aunt B. have often said) in the accomplishments I have given her : and yet the poor girl, I see that,' added she, ' would not be backward to turn her hand to any thing for the sake of an honest livelihood, were she put to it; which, if it please God to spare me, and she continues good, she never shall be.' " I wonder not, Pamela, at your tears on this occasion. Your lady was an excellent woman, and deserved this tribute to her memory. All my pleasure now is, that she knew not half my wicked pranks, and that I did not vex her worthy heart iu the prosecution of this scheme ; which would have given me a severe sting, inasmuch as I might have appre- hended, with too much reason, that I had shortened her days by the know- ledge of the one and the other. " I had thus every thing ready for the execution of my project : but my mother's ill state of health gave me too much concern, to permit me to proceed. And, now and then, as my frequeut attendance in her illness gave me an opportunity of observing more and more of the girl, her affec- tionate duty, and continual tears (finding her often on her knees, praying for her mistress) I was moved to pity her ; and while those scenes of my mother's illness and decline were before me, I would resolve to conquer. if possible, my guilty passion, as those scenes taught me, while their im- pressions held, justly to call it ; and I was much concerned to find it so difficult a task ; for, till now, I thought it principally owing to my usual enterprising temper, and a love of intrigue ; and that 1 had nothing to do but to resolve against it, and to subdue it. " But I was greatly mistaken : for I had insensibly brought myself to admire her in every thing she said or did ; and there was so much grace- fulness, humility, and innocence in her whole behaviour, and I saw so many melting scenes between her lady and her, that I found I could not master my esteem for her. " My mother's illness increasing beyond hope: of recovery, and having M ii 2 516 PAMELA. Mr. B. relates flic Progress of his Passion for Pamela. settled all her greater affairs, she talked to me of her servants ; I asked what she would have done for Pamela and Mrs. Jervis. " Make Mrs. Jervis, my dear son, as happy as you can : she is a gen- tlewoman born, yon know ; let her always be treated as such ; but for your own sake don't make her independent ; for tmm you'll want a faith- ful manager. Yet if you many, and your lady should not value her as she deserves, allow her a competency for the rest of her life, and letter live as she pleases. "As for Pamela, I hope you will be her protector ! She is a good girl : I love her next to you and your dear sister. She is just arriving at a try- ing time of life. I don't know what to say for her. What I had designed was, that if any man of a genteel calling should offer, I would give her a little pretty portion, had God spared my life till then. But were she made independent, some idle fellow might snap her up ; for she is very pretty: or if she should carry" what you give her to her poor parents, as her duty would lead her to do, they are so unhappily involved, that a little matter would be nothing to them, and the poor girl might be to seek again. Perhaps Lady Davers will take her. But I wish she was not so pretty '. She may be the bird for which some wicked fowler will spread his snares ; or, it may be, every lady will not choose to have such awaiting maid. You are a young gentleman, and, I am sorry to say, nm better than I wish you to be Though I hope my Pamela would not be in danger from her master, who owes to all his servants protection, as much as the king does to his subjects. Yet I don't know how to wish her to stay with you, for your own reputation's sake, my dear son ; for the world will censure as it lists. Would to God !' said she, ' the dear girl had the small-pox in a mortifying manner : she'd be lovely enough in the genteel- ness of her person and the excellences of her mind ; and more out of danger of suffering from the transient beauties of countenance. Yet I think,' added she, ' she might be safe and happy under Mrs. Jervis's care . and if you marry, and your lady parts with Mrs. Jervis, let 'em go toge- ther, and live as they like. I think that will be the best for both. And you have a generous spirit enough : I will not direct you in the quantum. But, my dear son, remember that I am the less concerned, that I have not done for the poor girl myself, because I depend upon you : the man- ner how fitly to provide for her, has made me defer it till now, that I have so much more important concerns on my hands ; life and strength ebbing so fast, that I am hardly fit for any thing, or to wish for any thing, but to receive the last releasing stroke.' " Here he stopped, being under some concern himself, and we in much more. At last he resumed the subject. " You will too naturally think, my lord and you, my good ladies that PAMELA. 517 Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion lor Pamela. the mind must be truly diabolical, that could break through the regard due to the solemn injunctions of a dying parent. They did hold me a good while indeed ; and as fast as 1 found any emotions of a contrary nature rise in my breast, I endeavoured for some time to suppress them, and to think and act as I ought ; but the dear bewitching girl every day rose in her charms upon me : and finding she still continued the use of her pen and ink, I could not help entertaining a jealousy, that she was writing to somebody who stood well in her opinion ; and my love for her, and my own spirit of intrigue, made it a sweetheart of course. And I could not help watching her motions; and seeing her once putting a letter she had just folded up, into her bosom, at my entrance into my mother's dressing-room, I made no doubt of detecting her, and her cor- respondent ; and so I took the letter from her, she trembling and curtsey- ing with a sweet confusion j and highly pleased I was to find it contained only innocence and duty to the deceased mistress, and the loving parents, expressing her joy that, in the midst of her grief for losing the one, she was not obliged to return to be a burden to the other ; and 1 gave it her again, with words of encouragement, and went down much better satis- fied than I had been with her correspondence. " But when 1 reflected upon the innocent simplicity of her style, I was still more in love with her, and formed a stratagem, and succeeded in it, to come at her other letters, which I sent forward, after I had read them, all but three or four, which I kept back, when my plot began to ripen for execution j although the little slut was most abominably free with my character to her parents. " Ycu will censure me, no doubt, bat my mother's injunctions made not a more lasting impression. I> .t really I struggled hard with myself to give them their due force : and n- dear girl, as I said, every day gr_-w lovelier, and mure accomplished. Her letters were but so many links to the chains in which she had bound me ; and though once I had resolved to part with her to Lady Davers, and you, Madam, had an intention to take her, 1 could not for my life give her up ; and thinking more honour- ably then of .the state of a mistress than I have done since, I could not persuade myself 'since I intended to do as handsomely by her as ever man rlid to a lady in that situation) but that 1 should do better for her than my mother had wished m to do, and so more than answer all her injunc- tions, as to tin providing for her : and I could not imagine 1 should meet with a rtsist.nre 1 had seldom encountered from persons much her supe- riors as to descent; and was amazed ai ; for it confounded me in all the notions I had ot her sex, which, like a true lilx rime, 1 supposed wanted nothing but importunity and opportunity, a bold attempter, and h mind not ungenerous. Sometimes I admired her for her virtue ; at other m m '', 518 PAMELA. Mr. B. relates the Progress of liis Passion for Pamela. times, impetuous in my temper, and unused to control, I could have beat her. She well, I remember, describes the tumults of my soul, repeating what once passed between us, in words like these : ' Take the little witch from me, Mrs. Jervis. I can neither bear nor forbear her But Stay you shan't go Yet begone! No, come back again.' She thought I was mad, she says in the papers. Indeed I was little less. She says, I took her arm, and griped it black and blue, to bring her back again ; and then sat down and looked at her as silly as such a poor girl as she ! Well did she describe the passion I struggled with ; and no one can conceive, how much my pride made me despise myself at times for the little actions my love for her put me upon, and yet to find that love increasing every day, as her charms and her resistance increased. I have caught myself in a raging fit, sometimes vowing I would have her ; and, at others, jealous that to secure herself froni my attempts, she would throw herself into the arms of some menial or inferior, whom otherwise she would not have thought of. " Sometimes I soothed, sometimes threatened her; but never was such courage, when her virtue seemed in danger, mixed with so much humi- lity, when her fears gave way to her hopes of a juster treatment. Then I would think it impossible (so slight an opinion had I of woman's virtue) that such a girl as this, cottage-born, who owed every thing to my family, and had an absolute dependence upon my pleasure : myself not despica- ble in person or mind, as I supposed ; she unprejudiced in any man's favour, at an age susceptible of impressions, and a frame and constitution not ice nor snow : ' Surely,' thought I, ' all this frost must be owing to the want of fire in my attempts to thaw it : I used to dare more, and suc- ceed better. Shall such a girl as this awe me by her rigid virtue ? No, she shall not.' " Then I would resolve to be more in earnest. Yet my love was a trai- tor, that was more faithful to her than to me; it had more honour in it at bottom than I had designed. Awed by her unaffected innocence, and a virtue I. bad never before encountered, so uniform and immoveable, the moment I saw her I was half disarmed ; and I courted her consent to that, which, though I was not likely to obtain, yet it went against me to think of extorting by violence. Yet marriage was never in my thoughts : I scorned so much as to promise it. " To what numberless mean things did not this unmanly passion subject me ! I used to watch for her letters, though mere prittle-prattle and chit- chat, received them with delight, though myself was accused in them, and stigmatized as I deserved. ' 1 would listen meanly at her chamber-door, to try to overhear her little conversation ; in vain attempted to suborn Mrs. Jerris to my pur- PAMELA. 519 Mr. B. relates the Progress of his Passion for Pamela. poses, inconsistently talking of honour, when no one step I took, or action I attempted, shewed any thing like it : lost my dignity among my servants ; made a party in her favour against me, of every body, but whom my money corrupted, and that hardly sufficient to keep my partisans steady to my interest; so greatly did the virtue of the servants triumph over the vice of the master, when confirmed by such an example ! " I have been very tedious, ladies, and niy Lord Davers, in my narration : but I am come within view of the point for which I now am upon my trial at your dread tribunal {bowing to us all). " After several endeavours of a smooth and rough nature, in which my devil constantly failed me, and her good angel prevailed, I had talked to Mrs.. Jervis to seduce the girl (to whom, in hopes of frightening her, I had given warning, but which she rejected to take, to my great disappoint- ment) to desire to stay ; and suspecting Mrs. Jervis played me booty, and rather confirmed her in her coyness, and her desire of leaving me, I was mean enough to conceal myself in the closet in Mrs. Jervis's room, in order to hear their private conversation ; but really not designing to make any other use of my concealment, than to tease her a little, if she should say anything I did not like; which would give me a pretence to treat her with greater freedoms than I had ever yet done, and would be an intro- duction to take off from her unprecedented apprehensiveness another time : and I had the less scruple as to M-s. Jervis's presence, being sen- sible she knew as bad of me as she could know, from Pamela's appre- hensions, as well as her own ; and would find me, if 1 kept within any decent bounds, better than either of them expected. But I had no design of proceeding to extremities, although I had little hope of making any impression upon her by gentleness. " So, like a benighted traveller, who, having strayed out of his know- ledge, and despairing lo find his way, throws the reins upon his horse's, neck, to be guided at its uncertain direction, I resolved to take my chance for the issue which the adventure should produce. " But the dear prattler, not knowing I was there, begun such a bewitch- ing chit-chat with Mrs. Jervis, who, 1 found, but ill kept my secret, that I never was at such a loss what to resolve upon. One while I wished myself, unknown to them, out of the closet, into which my inconsiderate passioa had meanly led me ; another time I was incensed at the freedom with which I heard myself treated : but then, rigidly considering that I had no business to hearken to their private conversation, and it was such as became them, while I ought to have been ashamed to give occasion for it, I excused them both, and admired still more and mor the dear prattler. " In this suspense, the undesigned rustlit;of my night-gown, from ..hanging my posture, alarming the watchful Pamela, she in a, fright cam<- M M 4 520 PAMELA. Mr. l ! . relates the Progress of l>is Passion for Pamela. towards the closet to see who was there. When I found myself detected, and was charged by Mrs. Jervis with the worst designs, it was enough to make me go farther than I designed ; and could I have prevailed upon Mrs. Jervis to go up, and quiet the maids, who seemed to he rising, upon the other screeming, I know not what might have been the consequence ; but, as it was, I had no thought but of making as honourable a retreat as I could, and to save myself from being exposed to my whole family: and I was not guilty of any freedoms, that her modesty, unaft'righted, could reproach herself with having suffered ; and the dear creature's fainting fits gave me almost as great apprehensions as I could give her. " Thus, ladies and my lord have I tediously, and little enough to my own reputation, given you my character, and told you more against myself than any one person could accuse me of. Whatever redounds to the credit of my Pamela, redounds in part to my own ; and so I have the less regret to accuse myself, since it exalts her. But as to a formed intention to hide myself in the closet, in order to attempt the girl by violence, and iti the presence of a good woman, as Mrs. Jervis is, which you impute to me, bad as it was, I was not so vile, so abandoned as that. " Love, as I said before, subjects its inconsiderate votaries to innume- rable meannesses, and unlawful passion to many more." I could not live without this dear girl. I hated the thoughts of matrimony with any body : and to be brought to the stake by my mother's waiting-maid. 4 Forbid it, pride!' thought I ; 'forbid it, example ! forbid it, all my past sneers, and constant ridicule, both on the estate, and on those who descended to inequalities in it ! and, lastly, forbid it my family spirit, so visible in Lady Davers, as Well as in myself, to whose insults, and those of all the world, I shall be obnoxious, if I take such a step !" " All this tends to demonstrate the strength of my passion : I could not conquer my love ; so I conquered a pride, which every one thought unconquerable ; and since 1 could not make an innocent heart vicious, I had the happiness to follow so good an example ; and by this means, a vicious heart is become virtuous. 1 have the pleasure of rejoicing in the change, and hope I shall do so still more and more ; for I really view with contempt my past follies ; and it is now a greater wonder to me how I could act as I did, than that I should detest those actions, which made me a curse, instead of a benefit to society. I am not yet so pious as my Pamela ; but that is to come ; and it is one good sign, that I can truly say, I delight in every instance of her piety and virtue : and now I will con- clude my tedious narration with the poet 4 Our passions gone, and Reason in the throne, Amaz'd we see the mischiefs we have done : After a tempest, when the winds are laid, The calm sea wonders at the wrecks it made.' " PAMELA. 521 Mrs. B.'s Reflections on tbe foregoing Narrative. Thus he ended his affecting relation : which in the course of it gave me a thousand different emotions ; and made me often pray for him, that God will entirely convert a heart so generous and worthy, as his is on most occasions. And if I can but find him not deviate, when we go to London, I shall greatly hope that nothing will affect his morals again. I have just read over again the foregoing account of himself. As near as I remember (and my memory is tbe best faculty I have) it is pretty exact ; only he was fuller of beautiful similitudes, and spoke in a more flowery style, as I may say. Yet don't you think, Miss (if I have not done injustice to his spirit) that the beginning of it, especially, is in the saucy air of a man too much alive to such notions ? For so the ladies observed in his narration Is it very like the style of a true penitent ? But indeed he went on better, and concluded best of all. But don't you observe what a dear good lady I had ? A thousand bless- ings on her beloved memory ! Were I to live to see my children's children, they should be all taught to lisp her praises before they could speak. My gratitude should always be renewed in their mouths ; and God, and my dear father and mother, my lady, and my master that was, my best friend that is, but principally, as most due, the First, who inspired all the rest, should have their morning, their noon-tide, and their evening praises, as long as I lived ! I will only observe farther, as to this my third conversation-piece, that my Lord Davers offered to extenuate some parts of his dear brother-in-law's conduct, which he did not himself vindicate ; and Mr. B. was pleased to fay, that my lord was always very candid to him, and kind in his allow- ances for the sallies of ungovernable youth. Upon which my lady said, A little tartly, " Yes, and for a very good reason, I doubt not ; for who cares to condemn himself?" " Nay," said my lord pleasantly, " don't put us upon a foot, neither : for what sallies J made before I knew your ladyship were but like tho=f of a lox, which now and then runs away with a straggling pullet, when nobody sees him, whereas those of my brother were like the invasions of a lion, breaking into every man's fold, and driving the shepherds as well as the sheep before him." "Ay," said my lady, " but J can look round me, and have reason, perhaps, to think the invading lion has come off, little as he deserved it, better than the creeping fox, who, with all his cunning, sometimes suffers for his pilfering theft." O my dear, these gentlemen are strange creatures! What can they think of tin mselves ? for they say, there is not one virtuous man in fiv ; but I hope, for our se\'s sake, as well as for the world'* sake, all is not true that evil fame reports ; for you know every man trespasser must find or make a woman tn spasser ? And if so, what a world is this * And hovr 522 PAMELA. Letter from Miss Damford to Mrs. B. must the innocent suffer from the guilty '. Yet, how much better is it to suffer one's self, than to be the cause of another's sufferings ? I long to hear of you, and must shorten my future accounts, or I shall do nothing bu write, and tire you into the bargain, though I cannot my dear father and mother. I am, my dear Miss, always your's, P. B. LETTER XXVIII. From^Miss Darnford to Airs. B. DEAR MRS. ft. EVERY post you more and more oblige us to admire and love you : and let me say, I will gladly receive your letters uppn your own terms : only when your worthy parents have perused them, see that I have every line of them again. Your account of the arrival of your noble guests, and their behaviour to you, and yours to them ; your conversation, and wise determination, on the offered title of baronet ; the just applauses conferred upon you by all, particularly the good countess ; your breakfast conversation, and the narrative of your saucy abominable master, though amiable husband ; all delight us beyond expression. Do g6 on, dear excellent lady, with your charming journals, and let us know all that passes. As to the state of matters with us, I have desired my papa to allow me to decline Mr. Murray's addresses. The good man loved me most vio- lently, nay, he could not live without me : life was no life, unless I favoured him : but yet, after a few more of these flights, he is trying to sit down satisfied without my papa's foolish perverse girl, as Sir Simon calls me, and to transpose his affections to a worthier object, my sister Nancy ; and it would make you smile to see how, a little while before he directly applied to her, she screwed up her mouth to my mamma, and, truly, she'd have none of Polly's leavings ; no, not she '. But no sooner did he declare himself in form, than the gaudy wretch, as he was before with her, became a well-dressed gentleman ; the chattering magpie (for he talks and laughs much) quite conversable, and has something agreeable to say upon every subject. Once he would make a good master of the buck- hounds ; but now, really, the more one is in his company, the more polite one finds him. Then, on his part, he happened to sec Miss Polly first ; and truly, he could have thought himself very happy in so agreeable a young lady; yet there was always something of majesty (what a stately name for ill nature !) in Miss Nancy ; something so awful, that while Miss Polly engaged the affections at first sight, Miss Nancy struck a man with reverence; inso- much, that the one might be loved as a woman, but the other revered as something more : a goddess, no doubt ! PAMELA. 52S t r Letter from Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. I do but think, that when he comes to be lifted up to her celestial sphere, as her fellow constellation, what a figure Nancy and her ursus major will make together; and how will they'glitter and shine to the wonder of all beholders ! Then she must make a brighter appearance by far, and a more pleasing one too : for why ? She has three thousand satellites, or little stars, in her train more than poor Polly can pretend to. Won't there be a fine twink- ling and sparkling, think you, when the greater and lesser bear-stars are joined together ? But excuse me, dear Mrs. B. ; this saucy girl has vexed me just now, by her ill-natured tricks ; and I am even with her, having thus vented my spite, though she knows nothing of the matter. So, fancy you see Polly Darnford abandoned by her own fault ; her papa angry at her; her mamma pitying her, and calling her silly girl ; Mr. Murray, who is a rough lover, growling over his mistress, as a dog over a bone he fears to lose ; Miss Nancy, putting on her prudish plea- santry, snarling out a kind word, and breaking through her sullen gloom, for a smile now and then in return ; and I laughing at both in my sleeve, and thinking I shall soon get leave to attend you in town, which will be better than twenty humble servants of Mr. Murray's cast : or, if I can't, that I shall have the pleasure of your correspondence here, and enjoy, unrivalled, the favour of my dear parents, which this ill-tempered girt is always envying me. Forgive all this nonsense. I was willing to write something, though worse than nothing, to shew how desirous I am to oblige you, had I a capacity or subject, as you have. But nobody can love you better, or admire you more ; of this may be assured (however unequal in all other respects) yo t, Polly Darnford, LETTER XXIX. The Journal continued. THURSDAY, FRIDAY EVENING, MY TEAR MISS DARNFORD, I AM returned from a very busy day, having had no less than fourteen of our neighbours, gentlemen and ladies, to dinner: the occasion, prin- cipally, to welcome our noble guests into these parts ; Mr. B. having, as I mentioned before, turned the intended visit into an entertainment, after his usual generous manner. He and Lord Davers are gone part of the way with them home ; and Lord Jaekcy, mounted with his favourite Col- brand, as an escort to the countess and Lady Davers, who arc taking an airing in the chariot. They offered to take the coach, if I would have gone; but being fatigued, I desired to be excused. So I retired to my closet, and Miss Darnford, who i? seldom out of my thoughts, coming into 524 PAMELA. . g Description of the Visitors to Mr. B.'a Entertainment. roy mind, I bad a new recruit of spirits, which enabled me to resume my pen> and thus I proceed with my journal. Our company was *, the Earl and Countess of D. who are so fashionable a married couple, that the earl made it his boast, and bis countess bore it like one accustomed to such treatment, that he had not been in his lady's eompany an hour abroad before for seven years. You know his lordship's character : every body does ; and there is not a worse, as jeport says, in the peerage. Sir Thomas Atkyns, a single gentleman, not a little finical and ceremo- nious, ^nd a mighty beau, though of the tawdry sort, and affecting foreign airs ; as if he was afraid it would not be judged by any other mark that he had travelled. Mr. Arthur and his lady, a moderately happy couple, who seem always, when together, to behave as if upon a compromise; that is, that each should take it in turn to say free things of the other; though some of their freedoms are of so cutting a nature, that it looks as if they intended to divert the company at their own expense. The lady, being of a noble family, strives to let every one know that she values herself not a little upon that advantage : but otherwise has many good qualities. Mr. Brooks and his lady. He is a free joker on serious subjects, but a good-natured man, and says sprightly things with no ill grace : the lady a little reserved, and haughty, though to-day was freer than usual ; as was observed at table by Lady Towers, who is a maiden lady of family, noted for her wit and repartee, and who says many good things, with so little doubt and really so good a grace, that one cannot help being pleased with her. This lady is generally gallanted by Mr. Martin of the Grove, so called, to distinguish him from a rich citizen of that name, settled in these parts, hut being covetous and proud, is seldom admitted among the gentry in their visits or parties of pleasure. Mr. M. is ai-hrewd gentleman, but has been a little too much of the liber- tine cast, and has lived freely as to women ; and is therefore not received by Lady Towers, who hates free actions, though she'll use free words, modestly free, as she calls them ; that is to say, the double entendre, in which Sir Simon Darnford, whom you are not unacquainted with, takes great delight; though by the way, what that worthy gentleman calls innocent Lady Towers would blush at. Mr. Dormer, one of a very courteous demeanour, a widower, was another, who always speaks well of his deceased lady, and of all the sex for her * I-jr tli" characters of most of tiiese jcutlcmen and Ulie?, see p. 34, a, Wi~':a 396 39D. PAMELA, 525 Conversation of the Company. sake. Mr. Chapman and his lady, a well-behaved couple, not ashamed to be very tender and observing to each other, but without that censurable fondness which sits so ill upon some married folks in company. Then there was the dean, our good minister, whom I name last, because I would clase with one f the worthiest ; and his daughter, who came to supply her mamma's place, who was indisposed ; a well-behaved prudent young lady. And here were our fourteen guests. The Countess of C. Lord and Lady Davers, Mr. H. my dear Mr. B. and your humble servant, made up the rest of the company. Thus we had a capacious and brilliant circle ; and all the avenues to the house were crowded with their equipages. The subjects of discourse at dinner were various, as you may well suppose ; and the circle was too large to fall upon any regular or very remarkable topics. A good deal of sprightly wit, however, flew about, between the Earl of D. Lady Towers, and Mr. Martin, in which thaUord suffered as he deserved ; for he was no match for the lady, especially as the presence of the dean was a very visible restraint upon him, and Mr. Brooks too : so much awe will the character of a good clergyman always have upon even forward spirits, where he is known to have hrtd an inviolable regard to it inmsclf. Besides, the good gentleman has, rir.J'irally, a genteel and inof- fensive vein of raillery, and so was too hard foi ''.lem at their own weapons. But after dinner, and the servants being withdrawn, Mr. Martin singled *ne out, as he loves to do, for a subject of encomium, and made same high compliments to my dear Mr. B. upon his choice ; and wished (as he often does) he could find just such another for himself. Lady Towers told him it was a thing as unaccountable as it was unrea- sonable, that every rake who loved to destroy virtue, should expect to be rewarded with it: and if his brother B. had come ofTso well, she thought *m one else ought to expect it. Lady Davers said, it was a very ja c .t observation : and she thought it a pity there was not a law, that every man who made a harlot of an honest woman, should he obliged to marry one of another's making. Mr. B. -said that would be too severe ; it would be punishment enough, if he was to marry his own ; and '.'specially if he had not seduced her under promise of marriage " Then you'd have a man be obliged to stand to his promise, I suppose, Mr. B. ?" replied Lady Darcrs. "Yes, madam." "But," said she, " the proof would be difficult perhaps : and the most unguilty heart of our sex mi: r ht be least able to make it out. But what say you, my Lord D. ; will you, and my Lord Davers, join to bring a bill into the House of Peers, for the purposes I mentioned ? I fanny my brother would give it all the. assistance he could in the Lower House."" Your ladyship," said Mr. 526 PAMELA. at ~ ?". ' ^ Conversation of the Company. Martin, " is highly unreasonable, I think, to propose that : it would be enough, surely, that a man should be obliged, as Mr. B- says, to marry the woman he himself. seduced." The earl said, that he thought neither the one nor the other should be imposed upon any man : for that when women's virtue was their glory, and they were brought up with that no- tion, and to avoid the snares of men, he thought, if they yielded, they ought to pay the forfeit, and take the disgrace of it to themselves. ** May I ask your lordship," said I, " how it comes to pass, that a wo- man's virtue is her glory, and that a man's shall not be his ? Or, in other words, why you think virtue in a man is not as requisite as in a woman ? " Custom,' Madam," replied the earl, " has made it very different ; and those things which are scandalous in a lady are not so in a gentleman." " Will your lordship argue, that it should be so, because it is so ? Does not the gentleman call himself the head of his family ? Is it not incumbent upon him, then, to set a good example ? And will he plead it as fashion, that he may do by the dearest relatives of another man's family, what, if any one should attempt to do by his, he would mortally resent ?" " Very well observed, Madam," said the dean : " there is not a free-liver in the world, I believe, who can answer that argument." " Mr. B." said the earl, " pray speak to your lady: she is too close upon us. And where sentiments have been so well supported by a conduct so uniform and ex- emplary, I choose not to enter the lists with such an antagonist." " Well, well," said Mr. B. " since your lordship will speak in the plural number, us, let me say, we must not pretend to hold an argument oh this subject But, however, I think, my lord, you should not call upon a man to defend it, who, bad as he has been, never committed a fault of this nature that he was not sorry for, though the sorrow generally lasted too little a while." " Mr. B." said Lady Towers, " has some merit with me for that answer : and still a greater on another account ; which is, that he has seen his error so early, and left his vices before they left him.". She looked, as every one did, on the earl, who appeared a little discon- certed, as one conscious that he deserved the reflection. And the dean said " Lady Towers observes very well : for, although I presume not to make personal applications, yet I must say, that the gentleman who sees his error in the prime of life, before he is overtaken by some awakening misfortune, may be called one of the happiest of those who have erred." " Ay, Mr. Dean," said she, " I can tell you one thing, that such another buttress as you know who, taken away from libertinism, and such another example as a certain lady every day gives, would go near in a few years to ruin the devil's kingdom in Bedfordshire." The gentlemen looked at one another upon this home push : and the PAMELA. 527 Conversation of the Company. lady would not let them recover it. " See," said she, " how the gentle- men look upon each other, as who should say, each to his companion * I'm not so bad as you.' " " Ay," said Lady Davers, " I see, my Lord Davers, and the Earl of D- and Mr. Martin looked most concerned." " Faith, ladies," said Mr. Martin, " this is too severely personal ; a man who contends with a lady has a fine time of it ; for we are under restraint, while you say any thing you please. But there's not a man of us all, 'tis my opinion, that could have attempted what a certain renegado has attempted, though he is so readily acquitted." " Not so hasty, my good friend," said Mr. B. " You don't consider well that you say, nor of whom : for did / take upon, myself to censure you ? But though I may challenge you to say the worst you can, because I always dealt upon my own stock, while others I could name, entered into a" society, and clubbed for mischief; yet I see you deal with a brother rake, when he reforms, as highwaymen with one of their gang, who would fain withdraw and be honest, but is kept among them by fear of an impeachment." " But is not this, ladies," said Mrs. Arthur, tf a sad thing, that so many fine gentlemen as think themselves concerned in this charge, should have no way to clear themselves but by recrimination ?" " Egad, gentlemen," said Sir Thomas Atkyns, " I know not what you're about '. You make but sorry figures, by my faith ! I have heard of many queer pranks among my Bedfordshire neighbours ; but I bless my stars, I was in France and Italy all the time." Said Mr. Martin " Mrs. Arthur spoke the words fine gentleman, and Sir Thomas thought himself obliged to enter upon his own defence." " Ay," said the earl ; " and the best of it is, Sir Thomas pleads not his virtue neither, that he did not join in these queer pranks with his Bedford- shire neighbours, but his absence." " Gad take me," said he, taking a pinch of snuflf with an air, " you're plaguy sharp, gentlemen; I believe in my conscience, you're in a con- federacy, as Mr. B. says, and would swear an honest man into the plot, that would not care for such company. What say you, Mr. H. ? Which side are you of?"" Every gentleman, '* replied he, " who is not of the ladies' side, is deemed a criminal ; and 1 was always of the side that had the power of the gallows." " That shews," returned Lady Towers, " that Mr. H. is more afraid of the punishment, than of deserving it." " 'Tis well," said Mr. B. " that any consideration deters a man of Mr. H.'s time of life. What may be/ear now, may improve to virtue in time." " Ay," said Lady Davers, " Jackey is one of his uncle's foxes : he'd be glad to snap up a straggling pullet, if he was not well looked after, 5-28 PAMELA. Conversation of the Company. perhaps." " Pray, my dear," said Lord Davers, " forbear: you ought not to introduce two different conversations into different companies." " I think, truly," said Mr. B. " you should take the dean's hint, my good friends ; else you'll be less polite than personal." " Well, but," said Lady Arthur, " since you seem to have been so hard put to it, as single men, what's to be done with the married man who ruins an innocent body ? YV.hat punishment, Lady Towers, shall we find out for such an one; and what reparation to the injured ?" This was said with a particular view to the earl, on a late scandalous occasion ; as I afterwards found. " As to the punishment of the gentleman," replied Lady Towers, ** where the law is not provided for it, it must be left, i believe, to his conscience. It will then one day be heavy enough. But as to the repara- tion to the woman, so far as it can be made, it will be determinable as the unhappy person may or may not know, that her seducer is a married man : if she knows he is, I think she neither deserves redress nor pity, though it elevate not his guilt. But if the case be otherwise, and she had no means of informing herself that he was married, and he promised to make her his wife, to be sure, though she cannot be acquitted, lie deserves the severest punishment that can be inflicted. What say you, Mrs. B. ? " If I must speak, I think that since custom, as the earl said just now, exacts so little regard to virtue from men, and so much from women, and since the designs of the former upon the latter are so flagrantly avowed and known, the poor creature, who suffers herself to be seduced, either by a single or married man, with promises, or without, has only to sequester herself from the world, and devote the rest of her days to penitence and obscurity. As to the gentleman," added I, " he must, I doubt, be left to his conscience, as you say, Lady Towers, which he wjll one day have enough to do to pacify." " Every young lady has not your angelic perfection, Madam," said Mr. Dormer. " And there are cases in which the fair sex deserve com- passion, ours execration. Love may insensibly steal upon a soft heart ; v. hen once admitted, the oaths, vows, and protestations of the favoured object, who declaims against the deceivers of his sex, confirm her good opinion of him, till having lulled asleep her vigilance, in an unguarded hour he takes advantage of her unsuspecting innocence. Is not such a poor creature to be pitied ? And what punishment does not such a seducer deserve ?" " You have put, Sir," sfid I, " a moving case, and in a generous man- ner. What, indeed, does not such a deceiver deserve ?" " And the more," said Mrs. Chapman, " as the most innocent heart is generally the most wedulous." " Very true," said my countess ; " for such an one as would PAMELA. 529 Conversation of the Company. do np barm toothers, seldom suspects any from others; and her lot is very unequally cast; admired for that very innocence which tempts some brutal ravager to ruin it." " Yet, what is that virtue," said the dean, " which cannot stand the test ?" " But," said Lady Towers, very satirically, " whither, ladies, are we got? We are upon the subject of virtue and honour. Let us talk of something in which the gentlemen can join with us. This is such an one, you see, that none but the dean and Mr. Dormer can discourse upon." ,; Let us then," retorted Mr. Martin, " to be even with out lady at least, find a subject that will be new to her : and that is charity." " Does what I said concern Mr. Martin more than any other gen- tleman," returned Lady Towers, " that he is disposed to take offence at it?" You must pardon me, Lady Towers," said Mr. B. ' ' but I think a lady should never make a motion to wave such subjects as those of virtue and honour ; and less still in company where there is so much occasion, as she seems to think, for enforcing them." " I desire not to wave the subject, I'll assure you," replied she. " And if, Sir, you think it may do good, we will continue it for the sakes of all you gentlemen" (looking round her archly) " who are of opinion you may be benefited by it." " We are going into personals again, gentlemen and ladies," said the earl. "And that won't bear, my lord, you seem to think?" retorted Lady Davers. A health to the king and royal family brought on public affairs and poli- tics ; and the ladies withdrawing to coffee and tea, I have no more to say V to this conversation, having repeated all that I remember was said to any purpose ; for such large companies, you know, my dear, don't always produce the most agreeable and edifying talk. Rut this I was the more willing to recite, thinking the characters of some of our neighbour* would be thereby made more familiar to you, if ever 1 should have the happiness of your company in these parts. " I will only add, that Miss L. the dean's daughter, is a very modest and agreeable young lady, and a perfect niistrcs" of music ; in which the dean takes great delight also, and is a fine j'idge of it. The gentlemen coming in, to partake of our coffee and conversation, as they said, obtained of Miss to play several tunes on the harpsichord ; and would have me play too. But really Miss L. so very much surpassed me. Mint had I re- garded my reputation for playing, above the desire I had as I truly -.aidj to satisfy the good company, I ought not to have touched i k y after ;i h a mistress of it. Miss had no voice, Svhieh is a great pity; and, at the request of every one, I sufif to her arcowjiawmnvt , twice or thrice ; as a la K.i 530 PAMELA. __ . v Mrs. B. and Lady Davers take an Airing in the Chariot. did Lady Towers, whose voice exceeds her taste. , But here, Miss, will I end my fourth conversation-piece. SATURDAY MORNING. The countess being a little indisposed, Lady Davers and I took an air- ing this morning in the chariot, and had a long discourse together. Her ladyship was pleased to express great favour and tenderness towards me j gave me much good advice, as to the. care she would have me take of my- self ; and told me, that her hopes, as well as her brother's, all centred in my welfare ; and that the way I was in made her love me better and better. She was pleased to tell me, how much she approved of the domestic management ; and to say, that she never saw such regularity and method in any family in her life, where was the like number of servants : every one, she said, knew their duty, and did it without speaking to, in such silence, and with so much apparent cheerfulness and delight, without the least hurry or confusion, that it was her surprise and admiration: but kindly would have it that I took too much care upon me. " Yet," said she, " I don't see but you are always fresh and lively, and never seem tired or 'fatigued ; and are always dressed and easy, so that no company find you unprepared, or unfit to receive them, come when they will, whether it be to breakfast or dinner." I told her ladyship, I owed all this, and most of the conduct for which she was pleased to praise me, to her dear brother, who, at the beginning of my happiness, gave me several cautions and instructions for my behaviour ; which had been the rule of my conduct, ever since, and I hoped ever would be : " To say nothing," added I, " which yet would be very unjust, of the assistance I receive from worthy Mrs. Jervis, who is an excellent manager." Good creature, sweet Pamela, and charming girl, were her common words : and she was pleased to attribute to me a graceful and unaffected ease, and that I have a natural dignity in my person and behaviour, which at once command love and reverence ; so that, my dear Miss Darnford, I am in danger of being as proud as any thing. For you must believe, that her ladyship's approbation gives ine great pleasure ; and the ^more, as I was afraid, before she came, I should not have come off near so well in her opinion. As the chariot passed along, she took great notice of the respects paid me by people of different ranks, and of the blessings be- stowed upon me, by several, as we proceeded ; and said, she should fare well, and be rich in good wishes, for being in my company. " The good people who know us, will do so, Madam," said I ; " but I had rather have their silent prayers than their audible ones ; and I have caused some of them to be told so. What I apprehend is, that you will be more uneasy to-morrow, when at church you'll see a good many people PAMELA. 531 Lilies left in Mrs. B.'s Pew at Church. in the same way. Indeed my story, and your dear brother's tenderness to me, are so much talked of, that many strangers are brought hither to see us : 'tis the only thing," continued I (and so it is, Miss) " that makes me desirous to go to London ; for by the time we return, the novelty, I hope, will cease." Then I mentioned some verses of Mr. Cowley, which were laid under my cushion in our"seat at church, two Sundays ago, by some unknown hand; and how uneasy they have made me. I will transcribe them, my dear, and give you the particulars of our conversation on that occasion. The verses are these : " Thou robb'st my days of bus'ness and delights, Of sleep thou robb'st my nights. Ah ! lovely thief ! what wilt thou do ? What ! rob me of heaven too ? Thou e'en my prayers dost steal from me, And I, with wild idolatry, Begin to God, and end them all to thee. No, to what purpose should i speak ? No, wretched heart, swell till you break. She cannot love me, if she would ; And, to say truth, 'twere pity that she should. No, to the grave thy sorrows bear, As silent as they will be there ; Since that lov'd hand this mortal wound doe3 give, So handsomely the thing contrive That she may guiltless of jt live ; So perish, that her killing thee May a chance-medley, and no murder be !" I had them in my pocket, and read them to my lady ; who asked me jf her brother had seen them. I told her it was he that found them under the cushion I used to sit upon ; but did not shew them to me till I came home ; and that 1 was so vexed at them, that I could not go to church in the afternoon. " What .should you be vexed at, my dear ?" said she : " how could you help it ? My brother was not disturbed at them, was he ?" " No, indeed," replied I : " he chid me for being so ; and was pleased to make me a line compliment upon it ; that he did not wonder that every body who saw mc loved me." But I said, this was all that wicked wit is good for, to inspire such boldness in bad hearts, which might otherwise not dare to set pen to paper to affroiit any one. " But pray, Madam," added J, " don't own I N N 2 532 .PAMELA. Conversation on the Lines. have told you of them, lest the least shadow of a thought should arise, that I was prompted by some vile secret vanity, to tell your ladyship of them, when, I am sure, they have vexed me more than enough. For is it not a sad thing, that the church should be profaned by'such actions, arid such thoughts, as ought not to be brought into it ? Then, Madam, to have any wicked man dare to think of one with impure motions ! It gives me the less opinion of myself, that I should be so much as thought of as the object of any wicked body's wishes. I have called myself to account upon it, whether any levity in my looks, my dress, my appearance, could embolden such an offensive insolence. And I have thought upon this occasion better of Julius Caesar's delicacy than 1 did, when I read of it ; who, upon an attempt made on his wife, to which, however, it does not appear she gave the least encouragement, said, to those who pleaded for her against the divorce he was resolved upon, that the wife of Qesar ought not to be suspected. Indeed, Madam," continued I, " it would extremely shock me, but to know that any wicked heart had conceived a design upon me ; upon me, give me leave to repeat, whose only glory and merit is. that I have had the grace to withstand the greatest of trials and tempta- tions, from a gentleman more worthy to be beloved, both for person and mind, than any man in England." *' Your observation, my dear, is truly delicate, and sueh as become- your mind and character. And I really think, if any lady in the world is secure from vile attempts, it must be you ; not only from your story, so well known, and the love you bear to your man, and his merit to you, but from the prudence, and natural dignity, I will say, of your behaviour, which, though easy and cheerful, is what would strike de;id the hope of any presumptuous libertine the moment he sees you." " How can I enough," returned I, and kissed her hand, " acknowledge your ladyship's polite goodness in this compliment ! But, my lady, you see by the very instance I have mentioned, that a liberty is taken, which I cannot think of without pain." " 'Tis such a liberty," replied my lady, " as shews more despair than hope, and is a confirmation of my sentiments on the prudence and dignity which not only I, but every body attributes to you." " Kind, kind Lady Davers !" said I, again pressing her hand with my lips. " But, I think, I will turn my quarrel, since I know not, and hope I never shah, the vile transcriber, upon the author of the verses ; for had they not been written, I should not have been thus insulted, perhaps." *' Cowley," replied my lady, " is my favourite poet: he has a beautiful imagination, a vast deal of brilliant wit, and a chastity too in most of his pieces, that hardly any of the tribe can boast." " I once liked him better too." said I, " thanjww ; for he was one of the poets that my lady would PAMELA. 533 Remarks on Cowley the Poet: permit me to read ; and his pieces in the praise of the country life, and those charming lines against ambition, used to delight me much : " If e'er ambition should my fancy cheat With any wish so mean as to be great, \ Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove The humble blessings of the life I love !' " " I have often noticed these lines," said my lady, " and been pleased with them. But I think you have no reason to be out of conceit with Cowley, for the ill use made of his verses. He but too naturally describes the influence of love ; which frequently interferes with our best duties. And there is something very natural, and easy, and witty, in the first lines: and shews that the poet laments the too engaging impressions which love made upon his mind, even on the most solemn occasions, " JVhat I rob me, rf heaven too !" A bad heart, Pamela, could not have so lamented, or so written." " Ah ! but, Madam," returned I, " I have si en in your dear brother's collection of manuscripts a poem in which this very point, nice as it is, is, touched with much greater propriety." " Can you repeat it, my dear ?" " The lines I mean I can. Your ladyship must know it was upon a quarrel between a beloved couple, where the gentleman had been wild, and the lady's ill-natured uncle, who wanted to break the match (although it was designed by her deceased parents) had fomented it so that she would not look upon her Ijver, nor see him, nor receive a letter of excuse from him, though they were be- trothed, and she loved him dearly. '1 his obliged Lim to throw himself in her way at church, and thus he writes ' But, O forgive me, Ileav'n, if oft my fair Rolis thee of my devoir, disturbs my praj'r, Confounds my best resolves, and makes me prove, That she's too much a rival in thy love.' " The>e now, Madam," continued I, '' ar" the lines I adnvre ' But better thoughts my happier hopes suggest, When once this stormy doubt's expeli'd uiy breast; When once this agitated jlame shall turn To steadirr heat, and more intensely burn, My dw.ir Maria then, thought. I, will join, And we, one heart, one soul, shall all be thine !' " " Ay, Pamela, thiisr are very pretty lines. But you must not think ilk of my favourite Cowley, however; for I say, with a gentleman whose judgment and good heart have hardly any equal, that though Cowley was N N '< 534 PAMELA. -' . , ., . ...-^^- Hi, ~ .- Mis. li.'s Opinion of the rrauscribei" of ihr Linos. going out of fashion with some, yet he should always suspect the head or the heart of him or her who eould not taste and delight in his beauties. The words x ' She cannot Iove me, if she would ; And, to say truth, 'twere pity that she should ;' shew the goodness of the poet's heart ; and even, that the transcriber him- self, be he who he will, had not the worst, that he could single out these : when, if he would be shining with borrowed rays, he might have chosen a much worse poet to follow." " O Madam!" replied I, " say not one word in his behalf. For a wretch to entertain the shadow of a wish for a married person is a degree of impurity that ought not to be excused : but to commit such thoughts to writing, to put that writing under the seat of the married person at church, where her heart should be engaged wholly in her first duties ;_ where too it might be more likely to be seen by the pew-keepers than her, and so be spread over the whole parish, to the pro- pagation of bad ideas, whenever I appeared ; and, moreover, might come to the hands of one's husband, who, from his own free life formerly, and high passions, as far as the transcriber knew, might be uneasy at, and angry with, the innocent occasion of the insult. Besides, the apprehension it must give one, that the man who could take this vile step might proceed to greater lengths, which my busy fars could improve to duelling and murder. Then the concern it must fill .me with, to the diverting of my mind from my first regards, when any one looked at me wistfully, that he might be the transcriber ; which must always give me confusion of thought ! dearest Madam, can you forbear being vexed, when all these imaginations dart in upon a mind apprehensive as mine ? Indeed, this action has given me great uneasiness, at times, ever since, and 1 cannot help it." " I am pleased with your delicacy, my dear, as I said before. You can never err, whilst thus watchful over your conduct : and I own you have the more reason for it, as you have married a n>erf Julius Caesar, an open eyed rake" (that was her word) " who would, on the least surmises, though ever so causeless on your part, have all bis passions up in arms, in fear of liberties, being offered like those he has not scrupled to take." " O but, Madam," said I, " he has given me great satisfaction in one point ; for you must think I should not love him as I ought, if I had not a concern for his future happiness, as well as for his present ; and tfeat is, he has assured me, that in all the liberties he has taken, he never at- tempted a married lady, but always abhorred the thought of so great an evil." " 'Tis pity," said her ladyship, " that a man who could conquer his passions so far, could not subdue them entirely. This shews it was in PAMELA. . 535 Mrs. B. and Lady Davers return. his own power to do so ; and increases his crime : and what a wretch is he, who scrupling, under pretence of conscience or honour, to attempt ladies within the pale, boggles not to ruin a poor creature without ; although he knows, he thereby, most probably, for ever deprived her of that protection, by preventing her marriage, which even among such rakes as himself, is deemed, he owns, inviolable; and so casts the poor creature headlong into the jaws of perdition." " Ah ! Madam," replied I, " this was the very inference I made upon the occasion." " And what could he say !" " He said, my inference was just ; but called me pretty preacher , and once having cautioned me not to be over serious to him, so as to cast a gloom, as he said, over our inno- cent enjoyments^ I never dare to urge matters farther, when he calls me by that name." ""Well," said my lady, " thou'rt an admirable girl! God's goodness was. great to our family, when it gave thee to it. No wonder," continued she, " as my brother says, every body that sees you, and has heard your character, loves you. And this is some excuse for the inconsiderate folly even of this unknown transcriber." We returned from this agreeable airing just in time to dress before dinner, and then my lady and 1 went together into the countess's apart- jnent, where 1 received abundance of compliments from both. But here I'll break off. . 'Tis'time, you'll say. But you know to whom I write, as well as to yourself, and they"ll be pleased with all my silly scribble. So excuse one part for that, and another fdr friendship's sake, and then 1 shall be wholly excusable to you. Now the trifler again resumes her pen. I am in some pain, Miss, for to-morrow, because of the rules (e observe of latfc in our family on Sun- days, and of going through a crowd to church ; which will afford new scenes to our noble visitors, either for censure or otherwise : but I will sooner be censured for doing what 1 think my duty, than for the want of it ; and so will omit nothing that we have been accustomed to do. I hope I shall not be thought ridiculous, or as one who aims at works of supererogation, for what I think is very short of my doty. Some order, surely, becomes the heads of families ; ad besides, it would be discredit- ing one's own practice, if one did not appear at one time whit one docs at another. For that which is a reason for discontinuing a practice for some company, would seem to be a reason for laying it aside for ever, especially in a family visiting and visited as ours. And 1 remember well a hint given ine by my dearest friend once on another subject, that it is in every one'* pow<-r to prescribe rules to himself, after a while, and persons to see what is one's way, and that one is not to be put out of it. But my only doubt is, that to ladies, who hive not Lten accustomed perhaps to N N 4 53G PAMELA. ' " ' -J-" - Mrs. 15.'6 strict Observance of tl'c Sabbath. the necessary strictness, Fsbould make myself censurable, as if I aimed at too much perfection : for, however one's duty is one's duty, and ought not to be dispensed with ; yet, when a person, who uses to be remiss, sees so hard a task before them, and so many great' points to get over, all to be no more than tolerably regular, it is rather apt to frighten and dis- courage, than to allure ; and one must proceed, as I have re,ad soldiers do, in a difficult siege, inch by inch, and be more studious to entrench and fortify themselves, as they go on gaining upon the enemy, than by rushing all at once upon an attack of the place, be repulsed, and perhaps obliged with great loss to abandon a hopeful enterprise. And permit me to add, that; young as I am, I have often observed, that over great strict- nesses all at once enjoined and insisted upon, are not fit for a beginning reformation, but for stronger christians only; and therefore generally do more harm than good. " What a miserable creature am I," said a neigh- bouring widow gentlewoman (whom I visited in her illness, at her own desire, though a stranger to me but by name) " if all the good you do, "and the strict life you live, is no more than absolutely necessary to sal- vation !" I saw the poor gentlewoman, through illness and low spirits, was ready to despond ; and, to comfort her, I said, " Dear Madam, don't be cast .down : God Almighty gives us all a light to walk by in these our dark paths ; and 'tis my humble opinion, he will judge us according to the unforced and unbiassed use we make of that light. I think it my duty to do several things, which the circumstances of others may not permit them to do, or which they, on serious and disinterested reflection, may not think absolutely necessary to be done : in each case our judgments are a law to each ; and I ought no more to excuse myself from doing what I think my duty, than you to condemn yourself for not doing what does not appear to you so strictly necessary : and besides, you may do as much good one way. as I another, and so both may be equally useful in the general system of Providence." But shall I not be too grave, my dear friend ? Excuse me ; for this is Saturday night : and as it was a very good method which the ingenious authors of the Spectator took, generally to treat their more serious sub- jects on this day ; so I think one should, when one can, consider it as the m preparative eve to a still better. - - Now, my dear, by what I have already written, it is become in a man- ner necessary to acquaint you briefly with the method my dear Mr. B. not only permits, but encourages me to take, in the family he leaves to my care, as to the Sunday duty. PAMELA. 537 Mrs. B.'s strict Observance of the Sabbath. The worthy dean, at my request, and by ray beloved's permission, recommended to me, as a sort of family chaplain, for Sundays, a young gentleman of great sobriety and piety, and sound principles, who having but lately taken orders, has at present no other provision. And this gen- tleman comes, and reads prayers to us about seven in the morning, in the lesser hall, as we call it, a retired apartment, next the little garden ; for we have no chapel with us here, as in your neighbourhood ; and this generally, with some suitable exhortation, or meditation out of some good book, which he is so good as to let me choose now and then, when I please, takes up little more than half an hour. We have a great number of ser- vants of both sexes : and myself, Mrs. Jervis, and Polly Barlow, are gene- rally in a little closet, which, when we open the door, is but just a separa- tion from the hall. Mr. Adams (tor that is our young clergyman's name) has a desk at which sometimes Mr. Jonathan makes up his running accounts to Mr. Longman, who is very scrupulous of admitting any body to the use of his office, because of the writing in his custody, and the order he values himself upon ha\ing every thing in. About seven in the evening he conies again, and I generally, let me have what company I will, find time to retire for about another half hour ; and my dear Mr. B. connives at, and excuses my absence, if enquired after ; though for so short a time, I am seldom missed. My best beloved dispenses as much as he can with the servants, for the evening part, if he has company; or will be attended only by John or Abraham, perhaps by turns ; and sometimes looks upon his watch, and says, " 'Tis near seven j" and if he says so, they take it for a hint that they may be dispensed with for half an hour ; and this countenance which he gives me, has not contributed a little to make the matter easy and delight- ful to me, and to every one. I am sure, were only policy to be considered, this method must be laudable, for since J begun it, there is not a more, diligent, a more sober, nor more courteous set of servants in any family in a great way: we have no broils, no hard words, no revilings, no com- mandings, nor complainings; and Mrs. Jervis's government is made so easy, as she sajs, that she need not speak twice ; and all the language of the servants is, " Fray, John," or, " Pray, Jane, do so or so ;" and they say, their master's service is a heaven upon earth. When I part from them, on the breaking up of our assembly, they generally make a little row on each side of the hall-door ; and when I have made my compli- ment;, and paid my thanks to Mr. Adams, they whisper, a-* I go out, " God bless you, Madam !" and bow and curtsey with such pleasure in their honest countenances a* greatly delights me : and I say, " So, my good friends I am i^l.id t<> sue you Not one absent 1" or but one (as it falls ut) " This is very obliging," I cry : and thus 1 '-hew them, that 1 take 53S PAMELA. Mordirrg Service performed in the Hall. notice, if any one be not there. And back again I go to pay my duty to my earthly benefactor : and he is pleased to say sometimes, that I come to him with such a radiance in my countenance, as gives him double pleasure to behold me ; and often tells me, that but for appearing too fond before company, he could meet me as I enter, with embraces as pure as my own heart. I hope in time, I shall prevail upon the dear man to give me his com- pany. But, thank God, I am enabled to go thus far already ! I will leave the rest to his providence. For I have a point very delicate to touch upon in this particular ; and I must take care not to lose the ground I have gained, by too precipitately pushing at too much at once. This is my comfort, that next to being uniform himself, is that permission and encouragement he gives me to be so, and his pleasure in seeing me so delighted and besides, he always gives me his company to church. Oh, how happy should 1 think myself, if he would be pleased to accompany me to the divine office, which yet he has not done, though I have urged him as much as I durst ; " One thing after another," he says ; " we shall be better and better, I hope : but nobody is good all at once." But as I consider this the seal of all the rest, and he himself has an awful notion of it, I shall hardly think my dear Mr. B.'s morals fully secured till then. Mrs. Jervis asked me on Saturday evening, if I would be concerned to see a larger congregation in the lesser hall next morning than usual ? 1 answered, " No, by no means." She said, Mrs. Worden, and Mrs. Lesley (the two ladies' women) and Mr. Sidney, my lord Davers's gentleman, and Mr. H.'s servant, and the coachmen and footmen belonging to our noble visitors, who are, she says, all great admirers of our family manage- ment and good order, having been told our method, begged to join in it. I knew 1 should be a little dashed at so large a company ; but the men being orderly for lords' servants,, and Mrs. Jervis assuring me that they were very earnest in their request, 1 consented to it. When, at the usual time (with my Polly) I went down, 1 found Mr. Adams here (to whom I made my first compliments) and everyone of our own people waiting for me, Mr. Colbrand excepted (whom Mr. H. had kept up late the night before) together with Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley, and Mr. Sidney, with tht; servants of our guests, who, as also worthy Mr. Longman, and Mrs. Jervis, and Mr. Jonathan, paid me their respects : and 1 said, " This is early rising, Mrs. Lesley and Mrs. Worden ; you arc very kind to countenance us with your companies in this our familv order. Mr. Sidney, I am glad to see you. How do you do, Mr. Long- nvui ?" and looked round with complacency on the servants of our noble visitors. And then 1 led Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley to my little retiring place, and Mrs. Jervis and my Polly followed ; and throwing the PAMELA. 539 Mr. and Mrs. B. and the Visitors attend Church. door open, Mr. Adams began some select prayers; and as he reads with great emphasis and propriety, as if his heart was in what he read, all the good folks were exceedingly attentive. After prayers, Mr. Adams read a meditation, from a collection made for private use, and ending with the usual benediction, I thanked the worthy gentleman, and gently chid him in Mr. B.'s name, for his modesty in declining our table ; and thanking Mr. Longman, Mrs. Worden, and Mrs. Lesley, received their kind wishes, and hastened, blushing through their praises, to my chamber, where, being alone, I pursued the subject for an hour, till breakfast was ready, when I attended the ladies, and my best beloved, who had told them of the verses placed inder my cushion at church. We set out, my Lord and Lady Davers, and myself, and Mr. H. in our coach, and Mr. B. and the countess in the chariot ; both ladies and the gentlemen splendidly dressed ; but I avoided a glitter as much as I could, that I might not seem to vie with the two peeresses. Mr. B. said, " Why are you not full dressed, my dear ?*' I said, I hoped he would not be displeased : if he was, I would do as he commanded. He kindly answered, " As you like best, my love. You are charming in every dress." The chariot first drawiiig up to the church door, Mr. B. led the countess into church. My Lord Davers did me that honour ; and Mr. H. handed his aunt through a crowd of gazers, many of whom, as usual, were strangers. The neighbouring gentlemen and their ladies paid us their silent respects ; but the thoughts' of the wicked verses, or rather, as Lady Davers will have me say, wicked action of the transcriber of them, made me keep behind the pew ; but my lady sat down by me, and whisperingly talked between whiles, to me, with great tenderness and freedom in her aspect ; which I could not but take kindly, because I knew she intended by it to shew every one she was pleased with me. Among other things, she said softly, " Who would wish to be a king or queen, Pamela, if it is so easy for virtue and beauty" fso she was pleased to say) " to attract so many sincere admirers, without any of their grandeur ?" But think you not, my dear Miss Darn ford, and my dearest father and mother, that I am now in the height of my happiness in this life, thus favoured by Lady Davers ? The dean preached an excellent sermon ; but I need not have said that; only to have mentioned, that he preached, was saying enough. Mv lord led me out when divine service was over ; and being a little tender in his feet, from a gouty notice, walked very slowly. Lady Towers and Mrs. Brooks joined us in the porch, and made us their compliments, as did Mr. Martin. " Will you favour us with your company home, my old acquaintance ?" said Mr. B. to him. " I can't, having a gentleman, my relation, to dine with mc ; but if it will be agreeable in the evening* ^40 PAMELA. v.. - Compliments passed at Church. I will bring him with nie to taste of your Burgundy : for we have not any such in the county." ' I shall be glad to see you, or any friend of yours," replied Mr. B. I saw Sir Thomas Atkyns coming towards us, and fearing to be stifled with compliments, I said " Your servant, ladies and gentlemen ;" and giving my hand to Lord Davers, stept into the chariot instead of the coach ; for people that would avoid bustle sometimes make it. Finding my mistake, I would have come out, but my lord said, " Indeed you iha'n't : for I'll step in, and have you alfto myself." Lady Davers smiled-" Now," said she (while the coach drew up) " is my Lord Davers pleased ; but I see, sister, you were tired with part of your company in the coach." " 'Tis well contrived my dear," said Mr. B. **. as long as you have not deprived me of this honour ;" taking the countess's hand, and leading her into the coach. Will you excuse all this impertinence, my dear ? I know my father and mother will be pleased with it j and you will therefore bear with me ; for their kind hearts will be delighted to hear every minute thing in rela- tion *o Lady Davers and myself. When Mr. Martin came in the evening, with his friend (who is Sir William G. a polite young gentleman of Lin- colnshire) he told us of the praises lavished away upon me by several genteel strangers ; one saying to his friend, he bad travelled twenty miles to see me. My Lady Davers was praised too for her goodness to me, and the gracefulness of her person ; the countess for the noble serenity of her aspect, and that charming ease and freedom, which distinguished her birth and quality. My dear Mr. B. be said, was greatly admired too : but he would not make him proud ; for he had superiorities enough already, that was his word, over his neighbours : " But I can tell you," said he, " that for most of your praises you are obliged to your lady, and for having rewarded her excellence as you have done : for one gen- tleman," added he, " said, he knew no one but you could deserve her ; and he believed you did, from that tenderness in your behaviour to her, and from that grandeur of air, and majesty of person, that seemed to shew you formed for her protector, as well as rewarder. Get you gone to Lon- don, both of you," said he. " I did not intend to tell you, Mr. B.-what was said of you." The women of the two ladies had acquainted their ladyships with the order I observed for the day, and the devout behaviour of the servants. And about seven, I withdrawing as silently and unobserved as I could, was surprised, as I was going through the great hall, to be joined by both. " I shall come at all your secrets, Pamela," said my lady, " and be able, in time, to cut you out in your own way. I know whither you are ,oins." PAMELA. 54i Evening Service performed in the Hall. ' ; ' i JB ;__ . - " My good ladies," said I, " pardon me for leaving you. I will attend you in half an .hour." " No, my dear, : ' said Lady Davers, " the countess and I have resolved to attend you for that half hour, and we will return to company together." " Is it not descending too much, my ladies, as to the company?" " If it is for us, it is for you," said the countess ; " so we will either act Up to you, or make you come down to us ; and we will judge of all your proceedings." ' Every one, but Abraham (who attended the gentlemen) and all their ladyships' servants, and their two women, were there ; which pleased me; however, because it shewed, that even the strangers, by this their second voluntary attendance, had no ill opinion of the service. But tbey were all startled, ours and theirs, to see the ladies accompanying me. I stept up to Mr. Adams. " 1 was in hopes, Sir," said I, " we should have been favoured with your company at our table." He bowed. " Well, Sir," said I, " these ladies come to be obliged to you for your good offices : and you'll have no better way of letting them return their obligations, than to sup, though yon would not dine with them." " Mr. Longman," said my lady, " how do you do ? We are come to be witness of die family decorum." " We have a blessed lady, Madam," said he : " and your ladyship's presence augments our joys." I should have said, we were not at church in the afternoon ; and when I do not go, we have the evening service read to us, as it is at church ; which Mr. Adams performed now, with his usual distinctness and fervour. When all was concluded, I said, " Now, my dearest ladies, excuse me for the sake of the delight I take in seeing all my good folks about me in this decent and obliging manner. Indeed, 1 have no ostentation in it, if 1 know my own heart " The countess and Lady Davers, delighted to see such good behaviour in every one, sat "a moment or two looking upon one another in silence ; and tin n my Lady Davers took my hind : " Beloved, deservedly beloved of the kindest of husbands, what a blessing art thou to this family!". " And to every family," said the countess, " who have the happiness to know, and the grace to follow, her example 1" " But where," said Lady Davers, " colleetedst thou all this good sense, and fine spirit in thy devo- tions ?" " The Bible," said 1, " is the foundation of all : but this, and the Common Prayer Book, and the Duty of Man, our worthy foiks have every one of them, and are so good ns to study them at all leisure eppor- tunities on other days. For which reason, that I may diversify their devotions, I have, with the assistance of Mr. Adams, and by advice of the dean, made extract? from several good pieces, which we read on these day ," " Mr, Adams," ;aid my Lady Davers, " ivdl you oblige me with a M2 TAMELA. Respects of the Servants for Mrs. B. copy of my sister's book, at your leisure ? He readily engaged to do this ; and the countess desired another copy, which he also promised. Lady Da- vers then turning herself to Mrs. Jervis " How do you, good woman ?" said she. " Why you are now made ample amends for the love you bore to this dear creature formerly." " You have an angel, and not a woman, for your lady, my good Mrs. Jer- vis," said the countess. Mrs. Jervis, folding her uplifted hands together" O my good lady, you know not our happiness ; no, not one half of it. We were before blessed with plenty, and a bountiful indulgence, by our good master ; but our plenty brought on wantonness and wranglings : but now we have peace as well as plenty ; and peace of mind, my dearlady, in doing all in our respective powers, to shew ourselves thankful creatures to God, and to the best of masters and mistresses." " Good soul!" said I, and was forced to put my handkerchief- to my eyes : " your heart is always overflowing thus with gratitude and praises, for what you so well merit from us." " Mr. Longman," said my lady, assuming a sprightly air, although her eye twinkled, to keep within its lids the precious water, that sprang from a noble and well affected heart, " 1 am glad to see you here, attending your pious young lady. Well might you love her, honest man ! I did not know there was so excellent a creature in any rank." " Madam," said the other worthy heart, unable to speak but in broken sentences, " You don't know indeed you don't, what a what a hap happy family we are ! Truly, we are like unto Alexander's soldiers, every one fit to be a general ; so well do we all know our duties, and practise them too, let me say. Nay, and please your ladyship, we all of us long till morning comes, thus to attend my lady; and after that is past, we long for evening, for the same purpose : for she is so good to us You cannot think how good she is ! But permit your honoured father's old servant to say one word more, that though we are always pleased and joy- ful on these occasions ; yet we are in transports to see our master's noblt sister thus favouring us with your ladyship too" (to the countess) " and approving our young lady's conduct and piety." " Blessing on you all !" said my lady. " Let us go, my lady ; let us go, sister ; for I cannot stop any longer!" Now, my dear friend, will you forgive me all this self-praise, as it may seem ? Yet when you know I give it you, and my dear parents, as so many instances of my Lady Davers's reconciliation and goodness to me, and as it will shew what a noble heart she has at bottom, when her pride of quality and her passion have subsided, and her native good sense and excellence taken place, I flatter myself, 1 may be the rather excused ; and PAMELA. 543 Lady Davets's high Opinion of Mrs. B.'s religions Profession. especially, as 1 hope to have your company ami countenance one day, in this my delightful Sunday employment. I should have added, for I think a good clergyman cannot be too ranch respected, that I repeated my request to Mr. Adams, to oblige us with his company at supper ; ibut he so very earnestly begged to be excused, and with so much concern of countenance, that I thought it would be wrong to insist upon it ; though I was sorry for it, sure as I am, that modesty is always a sign of merit. We returned to the gentlemen when supper was ready, as cheerful and easy^ Lady Davers observed, as if we had not been present at so solemn a service. " And this," said she, after they were gone, " makes religion so pleasant and delightful a thing, that I profess I shall have a much higher opinion of those who make it a regular and constant part of their employ- ment, than ever I had. But I have seen," added she, " perhaps, such characteristic wry faces, and gloomy countenances, among some of your pious folks, in and after a solemn office, enough to dishearten such an one as rap, and make one think that it would be a sin to go to bed with a smile upon one's face, or -without sighing and groaning. " Then," said she, " I was once, 1 remember, when a girl, at the house of a very devout man, for a week, with his grand-daughter, my school- fellow ; and there were such preachments against \>ir Jacob Swynford. I hope you wiil leave the happy pair (for they are so, if they think them- selves so) together, and Sir Simon to rejoice in his accomplished son-in-law elect, and give us your company to London. For who would stay to be vexed by that ill-natured Miss Nancy, as you own you were, at your last writing? But I will proceed, and the rather, as I have something to tell you of a conversation, the result of which has done me great honour, and given inexpressible delight ; of which in its place. We pursued Mr. B.'s proposal, returning several visits in one day ; for we have so polite and agreeable a neighbourhood, that all seem desirous to accommodate each other : and, as I mentioned before, hearing Mr. B.'s intention to set out for London, as soon as our company should leave us, they dispensed with formalities, being none of them studious to take things amiss, and having a general good opinion of one another's intentions not to disoblige. We came not home till ten in the evening, and then found a letter from Sir Jacob Swynford, uncle by the half blood to Mr. B. acquainting him, that hearing his niece, Lady Davers, was with him, he would be here in a day or two (being then upon his journey) to pay a visit to both at the same time. This gentleman is very particularly odd and humorsome : and his eldest son being next heir to the maternal estate, if Mr. B. should have no children, was exceedingly dissatisfied with his debasing himself in marrying me ; and would have been better pleased had he not married at all, perhaps. There never was any cordial love between Mr. B.'s father and him, nor between the uncle and nephew and niece ; for his positiveness, roughness, and self-interestedness too, has made him, though very rich, but little agreeable to the generous tempers of his nephew and niece; yet when they meet, which is not above once in four or five years, they are very civil and obliging to him. Lady Davers wondered what could bring him hither now : for he lives in Herefordshire, and seldom stirs ten miles from home. Mr. B. said, he was sure it was not to compliment him and me on our nuptials. " No, rather," said my lady, " to satisfy himself if you are in a way to cut out his own cubs." " Thank God, we are," said he. " Whenever I was strongest set against matrimony, the only reason I had to weigh against my dislike to it was, that I was unwilling to leave so large a part of my estate to that family. My dear," said he to me, " don't be uneasy; but you'll see a relation of mine much more dis- agreeable than you can imagine ; but no doubt you have heard his character." " Ah, Pamela," said Lady Davers, " we are a family that value ourselves upon our ancestry ; but, upon my word, Sir Jacob, and all his line, have nothing else to boast of. And 1 have been often ashamed of my relation to b l'i o O 546 PAMELA. Mr. Williams and Mr. Adams dine with the Company. them."" No fthnily, I believe, my lady, has every body excellent in it," replied I : " but I doubt I shall stand but poorly with Sir Jacob." " He won't dare to affront you, my dear," said Mr. B. " although he'll say to you, and to me, and to my sister too, blunt and rough things. But he'll not stay above a day or two, and we shall not see him again for some years to come ; so we'll bear with him." I am now, Miss, coming to the conversation I hinted at. On Tuesday Mr. Williams came to pay his respects tp his kind patron. I had been to visit the widow gentlewoman I mentioned before, and, on my return, went directly to my closet, so knew not of his being here till I came to dinner; for Mr. B. and he were near two hours in discourse in the library. When I came down, Mr. B. presented him to me. " My friend Mr. Williams, my dear," said he. " Mr. Williams how do you do ?" said I : " I am glad to see you." He rejoiced, he said, to see me look so well ; and had longed for an op- portunity to pay his respects to his worthy patron and me before : but had been prevented twice when upon the point of setting out. Mr. B. said, " I ave prevailed upon my old acquaintance to reside with us, while he stays in these parts. Do you, my dear, see that every thing is made agree- able to him." " To be sure, Sir, I will." Mr. Adams being in the house, Mr. B. sent to desire he would dine with us : if it were but in respect to a gentleman of the same cloth, who gave us his company. Mr. B. when dinner was over, and the servants were withdrawn, said, ' My dear, Mr. Williams's business, in part, was to ask my advice as to a living that is offered him, by the Earl of , who is greatly taken with his preaching and conversation." " And to quit yours, I presume, Sir," said Lord Davers. " No, the earl's is not quite to good as mine, and his lordship would procure him a dispen- sation to hold both. What would you advise, my dear ?" " It becomes not me, Sir, to meddle with such matters as these." " Yes, my dear, it does, when I ask your opinion." " I beg pardon, Sir My opinion then is, that Mr. Williams will not care to do-any thing that requires a dispensation, and which would be unlawful without it." " Madam," said Mr. Williams, " you speak exceedingly well." " I am glad, Mr. Wiliiams, that you approve of my sentiments, required of me by one who has a right to command me in every thing: other- wise this matter is above my sphere ; and I have so much good will to Mr. Williams, that 1 wish hiin <.'vry tlnng that will contribute to make biro happy " PAMELA. 547 Conversation on chnrch Livings. < " Well, my dear," said. Mr. B. " but what would you advise in this case ? The earl proposes, that Mr. Williams's present living be supplied by a curate ; to whom, no doubt, Mn Williams will be very genteel ; and, as we are seldom or never there, his lordship thinks we shall not he displeased with it, and insists upon proposing it to me ; as he has done." Lord Davers said, " I think this may do very well, brother. But what, pray, Mr. Williams, do you propose to allow to your curate ? Excuse me, Sir ; but 1 think the clergy do so hardly by one another generally, that they are not to be surprised that some of the laity treat them as they do." ' " Indeed," said Mr. H. " that's well observed ; for I have heard it said twenty times, ' If you would know how to value a clergyman, and what he deserves for spending his whole life in the duties of his function, you need but form your opinion upon the treatment they give to one another ; and forty or fifty pounds a year would be thought too much, even for him who does all the labour.' " " Who say$ my nephew speaks not well ?" said my lord. " Ob," said my lady, " no wonder ! This is Jackey's peculiar. He has always something to say against the clergy. For he never loved them, because his tutors were clergymen ; and since," said her ladyship, very severely, " he never got any good from them, why should they expect any from him ?" " Always hard upon my poor nephew," said Lord Davers. " Thank you, aunt," said Mr. H. " Mr. Williams said, Mr. II.'s observation was but too true; that nothing gave greater cause of scandal than the usage some even of the dignified clergy gave their brethren ; that he had always lamented it, as one of the greatest causes of the contempt with which the clergy are too generally treated. He was proceeding ; but Lady Davers said, " I am not at all surprised at their treatment of one another ; for if a gentleman of education and learning can so far forget what belongs to his function, as to accept of two livings, when one would afford him a handsome maintenance, it is no wonder that such n one would make the most of it ; for does he not as good as declare, that he take? it for that very purpose ?" " I must not let this argument proceed," said Mr. B. " without clearing my worthy friend. He is under no difficulty about holding the two. He proposes not to do it; and like a good man, as 1 always thought him to be, is of opinion he ought not to do it. But here is the difficulty, nnd ail his difficulty ; he is desirous to oblige his good friend the ear), who is very pressing to have him near him ; but apprehending tint I may take it amiss, if he relinquishes my living, he came to a*k my advice; and after we had talked a good deal of the matter, I told him we would refer it to Pamela, who was a kind of casuist in such matters of equity and good oo2 548 PAMELA. ' mi Conversation on cHir"h Livings. ,,,. * ' , ii. >.. - order as fell within the compass of her observation and capacity : and so, my dear, give us your free opinion ; for this is a subject you have spoken your mind to me upon once before." " 1 am very glad, Sir," replied I, " that Mr. Williams's own resolution was so conformable to what 1 wished it to be, and, indeed, expected from his character ; and I can therefore more freely speak my mind upon the occasion, though I am but a poor casuist neither." " You remember, my dear," said Mr. B. " what you observed to me in favour of the clergy, and their maintenance, when we fell occasionally upon that subject a while ago. I found you had considered the point, and thought you spoke well upon it. Let us hear your opinion now upon it." '*. Indeed," replied I, " I say now as I then took the liberty to say, that I have so general a good will to the order, that if my wishes could have effect, there is not one of it but should have a handsome competency ; at least such an one as to set him above contempt. And this, I am persuaded, would be a great furtherance to the good we expect from them, in teaching the lower rank of people (as well as the higher) their duties, and making them good servants and useful members of the commonwealth." " But, my dear, you noticed some things, which would, if you can re- collect them, be very a propos to the present subject."" I remember, Sir, we were talking of impropriations. I took the liberty to express myself a little earnestly against them; and I remember you stopped my mouth at once upon that head."" As how, sister ?" said Lady Davers. " Ay as how, Mrs. B. ?" said the countess. " Why, Madam, Mr. B. was pleased to say, that when the clergy would come into a regulation for the more equal and useful disposition of the revenues now in the church, he would be the first who would bring in a bill for restoring it to all that it had lost by impropriations and other secularizations, and leave it upon the public to make satisfaction to the laity as would be sufferers by the restoration." " That was not, my dear, what I meant," returned Mr. B. " You are particularly against dispensations ; which is the point before us now." " I remember, Sir, I did say, that as there are so many gentlemen of the function, who have no provision at all, I could not wish any one of it sheuld hold two livings^ especially if they cannot perform the duties of both, and where one would afford a tolerable competence. Much less (I remember I took the liberty to add) could I think it excusable, that a gentleman should rate the labours of his brother, who does every thing, so low, as is too frequently the case, and pay himself so well, for doing nuthing at ail." " This is what I mean," returned Mr. B. " and I thought you observed very well upon it. For my own part, I have always been of opinion, that the clergy who do thus, make the best excuse that can be PAMELA. 549 Conversation on church Livings. made for impropriators and lay patrons. 'For here is a gentleman, the son of a layman (I speak to general cases) is sent to the university, and takes orders. He has interest, perhaps, to get two or more livings, and hires a person, who is as deserving as himself, but destitute of friends, at a low rate, to do the duties of one of them. We will suppose, in his favour, that he has- several children to provide for out of these, and makes that his pretence for oppressing the person he employs to do his own duty. Some of these children are males, some females, and not one in five of the former is brought up to the church ; and all that he saves for them, out of what he squeezes from his unhappy brother, is it not secularizing, as it were, at least as far as he can do it, the revenues appropriated to the church ? And can he, whatever others may, blame an impropriator for applying that portion of the produce of church lands to his lay-family, which the other intends for the lay-family he is endeavouring to build up ? Some one or two of which impropriator's sons may possibly too, in order to possess the livings in their father's gift, be brought up to the church : what is the difference, I would fain know ? " If the clergy were always to have done thus, should we have not wanted many endowments, and charitable foundations which we now have ? And 1 am very sorry to have reason to say, that we owe such sort of Works more to the piety of the clergy of past times than to the present ; for now, let us cast our eye upon the practices of some of our prelates (for who is it that looks not up first for examples to that venerable order) and we shall find, that too many seem more intent upon making a family, as it is called, and thereby secularizing, as I observed, as much as they can, the revenues of the church, than to live up either to the ancient hospitality, or with a view to those acts of munificence, which were the reason for endowing the church with such ample revenues as it once had, and still has, were it not so unequally distributed, and in so few hands." " But, dear Sir," said I, " what a sad hardship do the inferior clergy labour under all this time ? to be oppressed and kept down, by their brethren, and by the laity too ? This is hard indeed Tis pity, methinks, this, at least, could not be remedied." " It will hardly ever be dene, my dear. The evil lies deep t 'tis in human nature ; and when that can be mended, it will be better ; but I sec not how it can be expected, while those who have most influence to procure the redress, are most interested to prevent it : and the views of others, aspiring to the same power and interest, make too many wish t have things left as tiny are ; although they have no present benefit by it. And those who would join in a cry of the church's danger, were the legis- lature to offer at a redress. " 'Tis pity, Sir," said I, ' the convocation are not permitted to sit. Ou3 550 PAMELA. ., i i i w^ m Conversation on rlim rh Livings. 1 ' =? They would, perhaps, undertake this province, and several others, for the benefit of the whole body of the clergy ; and I should think such regula- tions would come best from them." " So it is, my dear, would they employ themselves, and their delibera- tions, in such good works. But 'tis a sad thing to consider, that little good is to be expected from bodies of men in general ; for although an individual cares not to pull down upon himself the odium of a bad or un- popular action, yet when there are many to share it among them, I see not, that they scruple doing things which very little become them to do. But far be it from me to say this with-a view to convocations as convoca- tions : I speak what is but too generally the case in all bodies of men whatever, whether clergy or laity. And let us look into the greater or lesser corporations and societies throughout the kingdom, and we shall find, if a poor witticism may be excused, that bodies are really bodies, and act too often as if they had no souls among them." " I hope, Sir," said the countess, " when you judge thus hardly of bodies, you include the two supreme bodies." ' Thou shall not," said Mr. B. " I know these reverend gentlemen" (looking at Mr. Williams and Mr. Adams) " will tell me speak evil of the rulers of thy people. But I wish I could always defend what I am loath at any time to censure. But were you to read or attend to the debates in both houses, which sometimes happen in cases almost self-evident, you would find it impossible not to regret that you are npw and then under the necessity to join with the minority ; as well in your house, Lord Davers, as in ours." " I wish," replied his lordship, " I could differ from you with reason , but this always was, and, I fear, always will he so, more or less, in every session." " But to return to our first subject," said Mr. B. " You know, my 4ear, how much pleasure I take to hear your opinion, in cases of natural equity ; and you must tell us freely, what you would advise your friend Mr. Williams to do." " And must I, Sir, speak my mind on such a point, before so many better judges ?" " Yes, sister," said her ladyship (a name she is now pleased to give roe freely before strangers, after her dear brother's example, who is kindest, though always kind, at such times) " you must; if I maybe allowed to $ \y must."" Why then," proceeded I, " I beg leave to ask Mr. Williams one question; that is, whether his present parishioners do not respect and esteem him in that particular manner, which I think every body- must who knows his worth ?" " I am very happy, Madam, in the good will of all my parishioners, PAMELA. * 551 Conversation on church Livings. and have great acknowledgments to make for their civilities to me." " I don't doubt," said I, " but it will be the same wherever you go ; for bad as the world is, a prudent and good clergyman will never fail of respect. But, Sir, if you think your ministry among them is attended with good effects ; if they esteem your person with a preference, and listen to your doctrines with attention ; methinks, for their sakes, 'tis pity to leave them, were the living of less value, as it is of more, than the other. For, how many people are there who can benefit by one gentleman's preaching, rather than by another's ; although, possibly, the one's abilities may be no way inferior to the other's ? There is much in a delivery, as it is called, in a manner, a deportment, to engage people's attention and liking ; and as you are already in possession of their esteem, you are sure to do much of the good you aim and wish to do. For where the flock loves the shepherd, all the work is easy, and more than half done ; and without that, let him have the tongue of an angel, and let him live the life of a saint, he will be heard with indifference, and, oftentimes, as his subject may be, with disgust." - I paused here; but every one being silent "As to the earl's friendship, Sir," continued I, " you can best judge what force that ought to have upon you ; and what I have mentioned would be the only difficulty with me, were I in Mr. Williams's case. To be sure, it will be a high compli- ment to his lordship, and so he ought to hink it, that you quit a better living to oblige him. And he will be bound in honour to make it up to you. For I am far from thinking that a prudent regard to worldly interest misbecomes the character of a good clergyman ; and I wish all such were set above the world, for their own sakes, as well as for the sakes of their hearer* ; since independency gives a man respect, besides the power of doing good, which will enhance that respect, and of consequnce, give greater efficacy to his doctrines." The countess here mentioned the saying of Dr. Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who was beheaded in the reign of Henry VI II. because he would not own the king's supremacy : this prelate, being offered a richer bishopric, would not accept of it, saying, he looked upon his bi hopric as his wife ; and he should not think it excusable to part with his wife because she was poor. This brought to many reflections upon frequent translations, and the earnestness with which richer bishoprics were sought after, I was very sorry to hear, or to think, there were occasion for them. And I did say, th.it as Mr. B. had observed the fault was in human nature, and though it was an inexcusable one, perhaps we that censure them might find it hard, in their circumstances, to resist the temptation. Mr. B. said, he wished, for the sake of the clergy in general, that there was a law against translations; and that all the bishoprics in England o o 4 552 PAMELA. i Conversation on church Livings. were made equal in revenue : " For, do we not see," said he, " that the pselates, almost to a man, vote on the sidtr of power ? and, by this means, contribute not a little to make themselves, and the whole body of the clergy (so numerous, and so deserving too, as those of the Church, of England are) a by-word to free-thinkers of all denominations, who are ever ready to take occasion to malign them, and their venerable order." " Would you not," asked Lord Davers, " have the two primacies distin- guished in revenue ?" " No," said Mr. B. " the distinction of dignity and precedence would be enough, if not too much ; for where there is but one pope, the whole college of cardinals, seventy in number, are always look- ing up to, and gaping after the chair : and I would have no temptations laid in the way of good men to forfeit their characters, and weaken their influences, which are of so much consequence, for example-sake, to the public weal." " I think," said Lord Davers, " there was some reason for the celibacy of the clergy in the Roman church at first, although the inconveniences arising from it are too many and too obvious to wish the restraint so gene- ral. For the provision for families and children, furnishes so natural and so laudable a pretence to clergymen to lay up all they can for them, that their characters suffer not a little on that account." " If we look round us," said Mr. B. " and see how many good and wor- thy families are sprung from the clergy ; and look abroad and see what, are too often the effects of celibacy in the Roman church, and the scandal, worse than what we complain of, thrown upon them, even by bigots of their own communion, we shall have sufficient reason to condemn the celibacy which that church enjoins. Besides, a bad mind, an oppressive or covetous nature, will be the same whether married or single : for have we not seen to what a scandalous height nepotism has been carried in that church ? And has not a pope of a private and narrow spirit done as much for his nephews and nieces (and perhaps nearer relations under those names) as he could have done for sons and daughters ? So still here too, we must resolve all into the common sewer of iniquity, human nature; and conclude, that a truly good man will not do a bad thing upon any the nearest and most affecting considerations ; and that a bad man will never want a pretence to display his evil qualities, nor flatterers either (if he has power) to defend him, in the worst he can do. " I well remember the argument, when I was at Rome, used to the pope, on such an occasion. His holiness declared against nepotism, say- ing, that he would never look upon the revenues of the church as the patrimony of his private family; and forbade his numerous relations, who, on his promotion, swarmed about him with !< oks as hungry as if they were so many North Britons travelling southward for preferment" (that was PAMELA. 553 Conversation on church Livings. Mr. B.'s word, spoken pleasantly) " to think of him in any other light than that of the common father of all his people ; and as having no other relation but Merit. " This was setting out well, you'll say ; but what was the event ? Why, two-thirds of his relations rushed into orders directly ; and it was not long before parasites were found, to represent to the holy father that it was a sin to deprive the church of so many excellent props and but- tresses J and that, for the good of the public, he ought to prefer them to the first dignities ; so that the good man, overcome with their reasons, and loth to continue in so great a sin, graced the cardinalate with one, the episcopate with half a dozen, and the richest abbacies with a score or two : and the emperor having occasion to make interest with his holiness, found merit enough in some of the lay relations to create them princes and counts of the Holy Roman Empire." " But, Sir," said I (for I am always sorry to hear things said to the dis- credit of the clergy, because, I think it is of public concern, that we reverence the function, notwithstanding the failings of particulars) " have I not been a silent witness, that you have made the same observations on a minister of state, who, though he shall be perhaps the first to blame this disposition in a clurgyman, will be equally ready to practise it himself, to relations and children, full as worthless, to the exclusion of the worthy ? So that, Sir, this is all human nature still- and should we not be tender in our censures of the one, when we are so ready to acquit the other?" " There's this difference, Mrs. B." said the countess : " from the one we expect a better example ; from the other, none fit to be followed. [And this is one reason, that makes the first minister generally so hated in all nations, because he usually resolves all considerations into self, and is beloved by nobody, but those to whom he gives the overflowings of such benefits as he has not relations enough to heap them upon." " Well, Mr. Adam3," said I, "if I may be allowed to be so serious, does not this shew the excellency of the prayer we are taught by the Supreme Teacher, and that part of it Lead us not into temptation?' For it seems too natural a consequence, that no sooner are we tempted, but we deliver our- stives up to evil." " Right, sister," said Lord Davers ; " and this ends in Mr. B.'s human nature again." " What remains, then," observed Lady Davers, " but that we t/ike the world as we find it ? Give praise to the good, dispraise the bail ; and every one try to mend one ?" " Yet I wish," said Mr. B. " so over-tender are many good clergymen of the failings in their bre- thren, which they would not be guilty of themselves, that we might avoid displeasing them, if they were to know the freedom of this conversation, when we are so well disposed to reverence their function." " I hope 554 PAMELA. Conversation on church Livings. otherwise," returned Mr. Williams ; " for it is by giving due praise and dispraise, as my lady says ; and were evil actions to go uncensured, good ones would lose their reward ; and vice, by being put upon a foot with virtue in this life, would meet with too much countenance." " But allow ine," resumed Lady Davers, " to interpose a little in the matter we have departed from, and that of the curate and dispensation ; and when I have delivered my sentiments, I insist upon it, that Mrs. B. will as freely give 4is her's, as if I had been siknt. Dispensations are usual things. Mr. Williams may pay a young gentleman handsomely ; and the censure we have passed is only upon such as do not. To a young man, at first setting out, a good curacy will be very acceptable. If he has merit, it will put him in a way of shewing it, and he may raise himself by it. If not, ho will not deserve more. And Mr. Williams may marry, and have a family to provide for. His opportunities may not always be the same : the earl may die ; and he should be excused if he makes the best use of his inte- rest and favour, for the very reason Mrs. B. gave, that, being a good man, it will strengthen his inBuence : and as you know I am always for pre- scribing, here is a worthy young gentleman in my eye, who won't take it amiss to begin with a curacy ; and you shall give your dispensation, previous to the legal one, on condition that Mr. Williams permit you to present his curate : and thus all will be resolved. Both the gentlemen bowed, and Mr. Williams was going to speak : but Mr. B. said, " Take my sister at her word, Pamela ; and if you have an}' thing to say to this scheme, speak it freely, as if she had been silent ; for I perceive, by your downcast eye and silence, you could speak if you would." " Ay, pray do," said my lady. " l'love to hear you. You always make me think of something I had not considered before." " I am very loath to say any thing on so nice a subject. Indeed it would not become me. There is so much generosity and benevolence in my good lady's scheme, that I ought not." " None of your ought nots," said my dearest friend ; " I know you are always forming in your mind notions of right and wrong in the common cases of life. Let us therefore have your opinion more fully, and deliver it too without hesitation, and with that ease and freedom which are born with you '. for I can tell you, that were we, through the corruption of human nature, to lose the distinctions of right and wrong, I know not where we could apply ourselves, but to such as you, to recover them." I bowed, and said, ' If you will have it so, Sir, it must be so ; and I will then bespeak all your kind allowance" (casting my eyes around me to each person) " and tell you all I think upon this matter ; and then submit my poor sentiments, as become me, to jour superior judgments. " Pardon me, Madam, for taking your ladyship's words for my theine^ PAMELA. 555 Conversation on church Livings. as I remember them : and hardly any thing falls from your ladyship that I do not remember That dispensations are usual things I am sure I am going to display my ignorance, because, knowing nothing of their original or design, I must presume them to be very ancient in this kingdom, and introduced only when there were fewer clergyman than benefices. Was {here ever such a time ?" They smiled " Nay, now you would command me, Sir, to speak, when I need to do nothing else to expose myself. There were at one time, as J have read, so few scholars, that the benefit of clergy was allowed to some ort of criminals who could do no more than read, because the common* wealth could ill spare learned men, and thought it right to encourage the love of letters Then might there not be a time when dispensations were allowed to worthy men, because it was difficult to find enough of such to fill the church preferments ?" " Tell us, Pamela," said Mr. B. " whether you do not intend this as a satire upon the practice ? Or, is it really your pretty ignorance, that has made you pronounce one of the severest censures upon it that could be thought of?" I smiled, and said, " Indeed, Sir, I think, only some such reason, or a worse, must be the original of dispensations ; for, is it right, that one gentleman shall have two or three livings, the duties of no more than one of which he can personally attend ; while so many an* destitute of bread almost, and exposed to contempt, the too frequent companion of poverty ? Ainl if custom may have sanctified it, that is all that can ; and a good man will not do all he may do without incurring a penalty, because there is in every thing a right and a wrong; and because, be the custom what it will, a man should regulate his actions by his conscience and the golden rule. " My good lady says, Mr: Williams may pay a gentleman handsomely : I don't doubt but he would do so ; and this, 1 am sorry to say it, would be doing what is not so often done as one would wish. But I maybe per- mitted to ask, For what would he pay the gentleman handsomely ? Why, for doing that duty for him in which, in conscience and honour, lie ought to do himself, and which, when he takes institution and induction, he engages solemnly to do ? And pray, to what end is all this ! Only, that he who does all thje labour in the vineyard shall live upon thirty, forty^ or fifty pounds per annum, more or less, while he who has best nothing but best interest" (one of my foolish phrases) '* shall receive twice, and pc r- haps thrice the .sum for doing nothing at all. Can any dispensation, my dear friends, make this a just or equitable thing. Indeed, if the living be so poor as too many of them are, that a man cannot comfortably and cre- ditably subsist without putting two poor ones together to make one tolcr- 556 PAMELA. Conversation on church Livings. able one, that is another thing. But pray now, my good Mr. Williams, excuse me, if Mr. Adams can live upon a curacy of forty or fifty pounds a year, cannot another live, unless his rectory or vicarage bring him two or three hundred ? Mr. Adams may marry as well as Mr. Williams ; and bsth, I believe, will find God's providence a better reliance than the richest benefice in England. " A good curacy, no doubt, may be a comfortable thing at setting out to a young gentleman : but if here be a rectory or vicarage, of two hun- dred pounds a year, for example (for if it be of no more value than a good curacy, he must be content) is not that two hundred pounds a year the reward for doing such and such labour? And if this be the stated hire for it, to speak in the Scripture phrase, Is not the labourer worthy of his hire? Or is he that does not labour to go away with the greatest part of it ? "If the gentleman, my lady is pleased to say, has merit, this curacy may put him in a way of shewing it. But does the manifestation of merit, and the reward of it, always go together ? " My lady is so good as to observe But may I, Madam, be excused ?" " Proceed, proceed, child ! I shall only have a care of what I say before you for the future, that's all." " And I too," said Mr. H. which made them smile. " Nay, nov/ 1 , my lady " " Proceed, I tell you I only wonder, as my brother has said, on other occasions, where thou gottrst all these equitable notions." " My lady is so good as to observe," proceeded I (for they were pleased to be attentive) " that Mr. Williams should make use of his opportunities. I know her ladyship speaks this rather in generous indulger "-e to the usual practice than what always ought to be the chief consideration ; for if the carl should die may not some other friend arise to one of Mr. Williams's merit ? As to strengthening of a good man's influence, a point always to be wished, I would not say so much as I have done, if I had not heard Mr. Longman say, and I heard it with great pleasure, that the benefice Mr. Williams so worthily enjoys is a clear two hundred pounds a year. " But, after all, does happiness to a gentleman, a scholar, a philosopher, rest in a greater or lesser income ? On the contrary, is it not oftener to be fctund in a happy competency or mediocrity ? Suppose my dear Mr. B. had five thousand pounds a year added to his present large income, would that increase his happiness ? That it would add to his cares, is no ques- tion ; but could it give him one single comfort which he has not already? And if the dear gentleman had two or three thousand less, might he be less happy on that account ? No, surely, for it would render a greater prudence on my humble part necessary, and a nearer inspection, and PAMELA. 557 Conversation on church Livings. greater frugality, on his own ; and he must be contented (if he did not, as now, perhaps, lay up every year) so long as he lived within his income And who will say, that the obligation to greater prudence and economy is a misfortune ? "The competency, therefore, the golden mean is the- thing; and I have often considered the matter, and endeavoured to square my actions by the result of that consideration. For a person who, being not born to an estate, is not satisfied with a competency, will probably know no limits to his desires. One whom an acquisition of one or two hundred pounds a year will not satisfy, will hardly sit down contented with any sum. For although he may propose to himself at a distance, that such and such an acquisition will be the height of his ambition ; yet he will, as he ap- proaches to that, advance upon himself farther and farther, and know no bound, till the natural one is forced upon him, and his life and his views end together. " Now let me humbly beg pardon of you all, ladies and gentlemen," turning my eyes to each ; " but most of you, my good lady, whose obser- vations I have made so free with. If you can forgive me, it will be an instance of your goo'dness, that I may wish for, but hardly can promise myself. Will you, my dear lady?" said I, and laid my hand upon her's, in a supplicatory manner; for she sat next me. " I think not," said her ladyship. " I think I ought not. Should I, brother? Can I, my lord ? Ought I, my lady countess? Brother, il you have been in any degree contributing to the excellency of this what shall I call her ? how cunningly do you act, to make her imbibe her notions, and then utter them with such advantage, that you have a secret pridt; to find your own sentiments praued from her mouth ? But I will forgive you both, be it as it will ; for I am sure, outdone as I am, in thought, word, and deed, and by so young a gipsy" (that was her word) " it is by one that would outdo every body else, as well as me ; only I would except your ladyship." " None of your exceptions, Lady Davers," replied the countess ; " I know not, in so young a lady, whether 1 should most envy or admire her excellence." " Well, but since 1 have the pleasure," resumed I, "to find myself for- given, may I be indulged a few moments' prattle more ? Only just to observe, that the state of the case I have given, is but one side of the question, that which a good clergyman, in my humble opinion, would choose to act. But when we come to the other, what it would be kind we of the laity should think fit and act by them, is another thing. For, when we think of the hardships the clergy lie under, more than almost any o'hei^body of men, we should see they are entitled to better usage than 558 PAMELA. -' . . .i Conversation on church Livings. tbey often meet with. Here, in the first place, a youth is sent to the university, after a painful course to qualify him for it. He endangers his health, and impairs his constitution, by hard study, and a sedentary life : and after passing such a number of years, is admitted into orders, perhaps gets a small fellowship, turns tutor, a painful employment ; and his edu- cation having been designed for all his portion, and that expended in it, he at last, by interest or favour, gets a curacy or little living of forty, fifty, or sixty pounds a year ; if less, so much the worse ; and is obliged to maintain himself in a genteel appearance out of that, and be subject, not seldom, to the jests of buffoons and rakes at a great man's table, where the parson is too often the butt to receive the supposed witty shafts of such as can allow themselves to say any thing. If he marries, which possibly too he is kept from, contrary to his wishes, of all men he is the least to follow his own liking ; since prudence too often obliges him to take the person his inclination would not. If children follow, what melancholy views has he of providing for them, did not his strong reliance on Providence exercise his faith against worldly appearance ! Then he has too often do contend for his dues, the produce of his poor income, with churlish and ignorant spirits, whom his function would make him wish to soothe and instruct ; who, though they farm and pay to the landlord for no more than nine-tenths of the land they occupy, hardly think it a sin to cheat the parson of his tythe ; who, however, has the same right to it, by the laws. of the land, as the gentleman has to the estate, or the tenant to the produce of his farm. This obliges the*poor gentleman to live in a state of war among a peo- ple, with whom both his duty and inclination would make him desire to cultivate a good understanding. And what benefits can result from his ministry in such a situation, when the people to be instructed look upon him as an invader of their substance, at the very time they are robbing him of what is legally his ? In the next place, I presume to think, that the clergy are too much looked upon by some as a detached body, as I may say, from the rest of the people, and as persons acting upon a sepa- rate interest, quite opposite to that of the laity : when, possibly, that very churl, who refuses them their right, or would cheat them of it, has a ?iew to bring up one of his family to the church, and hopes to get him provided for out of its revenues. And are not the clergy, moreover, the fathers, the sons, the uncles, the brothers of the laity, who set themselves against their maintenance? And must their education debar them of those comforts which it better qualifies them to enjoy, and which it inca- pacitates tbem any other way to procure ? " Forgive me," looking all round me, and curtseying when I cast my eyes on Mr. B. " for entering so deeply into this subject : I have aftcn PAMELA. 559 Conversation on church Livings. beard my excellent lady, who had a great veneration for good clergymen, talk to this purpose with a lady who had very different sentiments from her's ; and I have not been used to forget any thing that fell from her lips." Mr. B. and Lady Davers bid me proceed ; I could not, she said, have had a better instructress. " What opportunity," resumed I, " have not the laity, of all degrees and ranks, to make their live3 easy and happy, to what the clergy have ? Here is a middling family, with three or four sons : suppose the father's circumstances will allow him to bring up one to the taw, what opportuni- ties has he, unenvied, to make a fortune ! Another is brought up to trade; if he has but tolerable success in the world, in what ease and affluence does he support himself, and provide for his family ! And as to the physic line, what fortunes are raised in that ! And nobody envies any of these. But the son, whose inclinations shall lead him, perhaps best to deserve, and most to require, a comfortable subsistence, and who ought wholly to devote himself to the duties of his function, is grudged every thing, and is treated as if he were not a son of the same family, and had not a natu- ral right and stake in the same commonwealth. There are, 'tis true, preferments, and some great ones, and honours, too, in the church ; but how few, compared to the numbers of the clergy, or to those poor livings which hardly set a man above penury and contempt ! And how are those few engrossed by the descendants or dependants of the rich and powerful? And what by commendams, dispensations, and such like contrivances, bow does one man of interest and address swallow up the provision de- signed for several, as deserving, perhaps, at least, as himself! For, my good lady (you have forgiven me, and must not be displeased) a man's friends may die off, and he must, you know, make the best of his oppor- tunities." " O you dear sauce-box, as my brother calls you ! How dare you, by that arch pretty look, triumph over me thus .' Let me, brother, give her a slap for this ! I'm sure she deserves it '." " I think she is a little insolent, indeed, Lady Davers. But to the case in hahd. There is so much truth in what Pamela says, of the hardships to which the clergy, the inferior clergy particularly, are subjected, that I wonder any gentleman who can choose for himself, and has no probable prospect, should enter into orders, under such discouragements." " I humbly conceive, Sir,' said I, " that there can be but one good induce inr nt, and this is what the Apostle hints at in these words * If in this life only we have hope, we are of all men most miserable.' " " Well," said Mr. B. " by how much this is their motive, by so much *re they entitled to that better hope ; and may it never deceive them ! But I have the pleasure to acqu unt this company, that 1 had a mind only to bear what 560 PAMELA. 1 * . ' ' ' i . . Conversation on church Livings. Pamela, who, as 1 hinted, talked to me learnedly on this very subject a few days ago, would say, when she came face to face to her two worthy friends, Mr. Williams and Mr. Adams (and so I desired Mr. Williams would let her run on, if I could set her into the subject) else my old acquaintance was resolved not to hold Loth livings, since either, he was so good as to say, would afford him as handsome a provision as he wished for ; his only difficulty being about obliging the earl, or whether he should not disoblige me, if he complied with that nobleman's request." "Indeed, Madam," said Mr. Williams, " this is the very case : and after what I have heard from you, I would not for the world have been of another mind, nor have put it upon any other foot than I did." " You are a good man," said I ; " and I have such an opinion of your worthiness and the credit you do your function, that I can never suspect either your judgment or your conduct. But pray, Sir, may I ask, what have you determined to do ?" " Why, Madam," replied he, " 1 am stag- gered in that too, by the observation you just now made, that where a man has the love of his parishioners, he ought not to think of leaving them." ** Else, Sir, I find you was rather inclined to oblige the earl, though the living be of less value ! This is very noble, Sir ; it is more than generous." " My dear," said Mr. B. " I'll tell you (for Mr. Williams's modesty will not let him speak it before all the company) what is his motive ; and a worthy one you'll say it is. Excuse me, Mr. Williams"- for the reve- rend gentleman blushed. ** The earl has of late years we all know his character given himself up to carousing, and he will suffer no man to go from his table sober. Mr. Williams has taken the liberty to expostulate, as became his function, with his lordship on this subject, and upon some other irregularities, so agreeably, that the earl has taken a great liking to him, and promises, that he will suffer his reasonings to have an effect upon him, and that he shall reform his whole household, if he will come and live near him, and regulate his table by his own example. The countess is a very good lady, and privately presses Mr. Williams to oblige the earl : and this is our worthy friend's main inducement ; with the hope, which I should men- tion, that he has, of preserving untainted the morals of the two young gentlemen, the earl's sons, who, he fears, will be carried away by the force of such an example : and he thinks, as the carl's living has fallen, mine may be better supplied than the earl's, if he, as he kindly offers, gives it me back again ; otherwise the earl, as he apprehends, will find out for his some gentleman, if such an one can be found, as will rather further than obstruct his own irregularities, as was the unhappy case of the last incumbent." PAMELA. 561 Conversation on church Livings. " Well," said Lady Davers, " I shall always have the highest respect for Mr. Williams, for a conduct so genteel and so prudent. But, brother, will you and will you, Mr. Williams put this whole affair into Mrs. B.'s hands, since you have such testimonies, both of you, of the rectitude of her thinking and acting ?" " With all my heart, Madam," replied Mr. Williams ; " and I shall be proud of such a direction."" What say you, brother ? You are to suppose the living in your own hands again ; will you leave the whole matter to my sister here ?" " Come, my dear," said Mr. B. " let us hear how you'd wish it to be ordered. I know you have not need of one moment's consideration, when once you are a mistress of a point." " Nay," said Lady Davers, " that is not the thing. I repeat my demand ; shall it be as Mrs. B. lays it out, or not ?" "This is a weighty matter, my good sister ; and, bad as I have been, I think patrons are accountable, in a great measure, for the characters of the persons they present : and had I twenty livings in my gift, I should think I ought not to prefer my brother to any one of them, if bis morals and character were not likely to do honour to the church, as well as to my presentation. And I ex- pected to hear from Pamela, in enumerating the hardships of the clergy, of that scandalous practice of some patrons who rob the regularly-bred, clergyman, by pushing into orders some kinsman, or friend, or friend's kinsman or friend, when a living falls in, let his character or qualification be ever so faulty and defective. I could name several instances that ought to make the ordainers, as well as the ordained, blush ; as (were I to borrow one of Pamela's serious inferences, I would say) it will one day make them both tremble, when they come to give an account of the trusts committed to them." " Well," said my lady, " I have a noble brother, that's true. What pity you ever were wicked at all ! But, come," and laid her hand upon mine, " this same good girl will be a blessing to you : nay, why said 1, willbc? she is, and the greatest that man can receive. But still I must have you put this matter into Mrs. B.'s hands." " Conditionally I will provided 1 cannot give satisfactory reasons, why I ought not to conform to her opinion ; for this, as 1 said, is a point of conscience with w ; and 1 made it so, when 1 presented Mr. Williams to the living : and have not been deceived in that presentation." "To be sure," said I, " that is very reasonable, Sir ; and on that condition, I shall the less hesitate to speak my mind, because I shall be in no danger to commit an irreparable ( rror. ' " I know well, Lady Davers," added Air. B. " the power your sex have over ours, and their subtle tricks : and so will never, in my w< akest mo- ments, be drawn in to make a blindfold promise. Then- have been several a 19 p v 562 PAMELA. * Mr. Williams relinquishes his Livinq, instances, both in sacred and profane story, of mischiefs done by such surprises : so you must allow me to suspect myself, when I know the dear slut's power over me, and have been taught, by the inviolable regard she pays to her own word, to -value mine And now, Pamela, speak all that is in your heart to say." " With your requisite condition in my eye, I will, Sir. But let me ate that 1 state the matter right. And, preparative to it, pray, Mr. Wil- liams, though you have not been long in possession of this living, yet, may be, you can compute what it is likely, by what you know of it, to bring in clear ?" " Madam," said he, " by the best calculation I can make I thank you for it, good Sir it may, one year with another, be reckoned at three hundred pounds per annum ; and is the best within twenty miles of it, having been improved within these two last years." " If it was five hundred pounds, and would make you happier (for that, Sir, is the thing) I should wish it you," said I, " and think it short of your merits. But pray, Sir, what is the earl's living valued at ?" " At about two hundred and twenty pounds, Madam." " Well, then," replied I, very pertly, i( 1 believe now I have it." " Mr. Williams, for motives most excellently worthy of his function, inclines to surrender up to Mr. B. his living of three hundred pounds per annum, and to accept of the earl's living of two hundred and twenty. Dear Sir, I am going to be very bold ; but under your condition neverthe- less , let the gentleman, to whom you shall present the living of E. allow eighty pounds per annum out of it to Mr. Williams, till the earl's favour shall make up the difference to him, and no longer. And but I dare not name the gentleman : for how, dear Sir, were I to be so bold, shall I part with my chaplain ?" " Admirable ! most admirable !" said Lord and Lady Davers, in the same words. The countess praised the decision too ; and Mr. H. with his " Let me be hang'd," and his " Fore Gads," and such exclamations natural to him, made his plaudits. Mr. Williams said, he could wish with all his heart it might be so ; and Mr. Adams was s;i abashed and surprised, that he could not hold up his head ; but joy danced in his silent countenance, for all that. Mr. B. having hesitated a few minutes, Lady Davers called out for his objection, or consent according to condition ; and he said, " I cannot so soon determine as that prompt slut did. I'll withdraw one minute." He did so, as I found afterwards, to advise, like the considerate and genteel spirit he possesses, with Mr. Williams-, whom he beckoned out, and to examine whether he was in earnest willing to give it up, or very desi- ;. . .-, for any one to succeed him ; saying, that if he had, he thought him- PAMELA. 563 which Mr. B. presents to Mr. Adams. self obliged, in return for his worthy behaviour to him, to pay a particular regard to his recommendation. And so being answered as he desired, in they came together again. But I should say, that his withdrawing with a very serious aspect made me afraid I had gone too far : and I said, " What shall I do, if I hajve incurred Mr. B.'s anger by my over-forwardness ! Did he not look dis- pleased ? Dear ladies, if he be so, plead for me, and I'll withdraw when he comes in ; for I cannot stand his anger : I have not been used to it." " Never fear, Pamela," said my lady ; " he can't be angry at any thing you say or do. But I wish, for the sake of what I have witnessed of Mr. Adams's behaviour and modesty, that such a thing could be done for him." Mr. Adams bowed, and said, " O my good ladies ! 'tis too consider- able a thing : I cannot expect it I do not it would be presumption if I did." Just then re-entered Mr. B. and Mr. Williams : the first with a stately ir, the other with a more peace-portending smile on his countenance. But Mr. B. sitting down, " Well, Pamela," said he, very gravely, " I b, I am. My sister B. is my doating piece." " Whew '." whistled he, with a wild stare : " and how is it with you, youngster?" " With me, Sir Jacob?" said Mr. H. " I'd give all I'm worth in the world, and ever shall be worth, for such another wife." Ha ran to the window, and throwing up the sash looking into the court-yard, said, " Hollo So-ho '. Groom Jack Jonas Get me my horse ! I'll keep no such company ! I'll be gone ! VV hy, Jonas !" calling again. " You're not in earnest, Sir Jacob," said Mr. B. " I am, by my soul ! I'll away to the village this night! Why you're all upon the high game ! I'll But who comes here ?" For just then the chariot brought me into the court-yard " Who's this? who is she?" PAMELA. 571 i . ' Mrs. B. ntrodnccd to Sir Jacob as Lady Jenny C. One of my daughters," started up the countess; " my youngest daughter Jenny '. She's the pride of my family, Sir Jacob !" " By my soul 1" said he, " I was running ; for 1 thought it was the grand enchantress." Out steps Lady Davers to me : " Dear Pamela," said she, " humour all that's said to you. Here's Sir Jacob come. You're the Countess of C.'s youngest daughter Jenny That's your cue." " Ah ! but, Madam," said I, " lady Jenny is not married," looking (before I thought) on a circumstance that I think too much of sometimes, though I carry it off as well as I can. She laughed at my exception : " Come, Lady Jenny," said she (for I just en- tered the great door) " I hope you've had a fine airing." " A very pretty one, Madam," said I, as I entered the parlour. " This is a pleasant coun- try, Lady Davers." (" TVink when I'm wrong;" whispered I.) " Where's Mrs. B. ?" Then, as seeing a strange gentleman, I started half back, into a more reserved air ; and made him a low curtsey. Sir Jacob looked as if he did not know what to think of it, now at me, now at Mr. B. who put him quite out of doubt, by taking my hand : " Well, Lady Jenny, did you meet my fugitive in your tour?" " No, Mr. B. Did she go my way? I told you I would keep the great road." " Lady Jenny C." s;.id Mr. B. presenting me to his uncle. " A charming creature !" added he : " Have you not a son worthy of such an alliance:" "Ay, nephew, this is a lady indeed! Why the plague," whispered he, " could you not have pitched your tent here ? Miss, by your leave?" and saluting me, turned to the countess. " By my soul, Madam, you've a charming daughter! Had my rash nephew seen this lovely creature, and you condescended, he'd never have stooped to the cottage as he has done." " You're right, Sir Jacob," said Mr. B. ; " but 1 always ran too fast for my fortune : yet these ladies of famHy never bring out their jewels into bachelors' company ; and when, too late, we see what we've missed, we are vexed at our precipitation." " Well said, however, boy. By my soul, I wish thee repentance, though 'tis out of thy power to mend. Be that one of thy curses, when thou seest this lady ; as no doubt it is." Again surveying me from head to foQt, and turning me round, which, it seems, is a mighty practice with him to a stranger lady (and a modest one too, you'll say, Miss) " Why, truly, you're a charming creature, Miss Lidy Jenny I would ?ay By your leave, once more ! Upon my soul, my Lady Countess, she is a charmer ' But but " staring at me, " Are you married, Madam ?" 1 looked a little silly : and my new mamma came up to me, and took my hand : " Why, Jenny, you an; dresfcd oddly to-day! What a hoop you wear; it makes you look 1 can't t< II how !" " Upon my soul, Madam, i thought so ; what signifies lying ? But 'tis 572 PAMELA. Sir Jacob's Remarks on Lady Jenny. only the hoop, 1 see Really, Lady Jenny, your hoop is enough to make half a hundred of our sex despair, lest you should be married. I thought it was something! Few ladies escape my notice. I always kept a good look-out ; for I have two daughters of my own. But 'tis the hoop, I see plainly enough." I was hastening away, and he said, " But let's see you again, Miss : for now will I stay, if they bring nobody else." And away I went ; for I was quite out of countenance, " What a strange creature," thought I, " is this !" Supper being near ready, he called out for Lady Jenny ; for the sight of her, he said, did him good ; but he was resolved not to sit down to table with somebody else. The countess said, she would fetch her daughter ; and stepping out, returned saying, " Mrs. B. understands that. Sir Jacob is here, and does not choose to see her ; so she begs to be excused ; and my Jenny and she desire to sup together." u The very worst tidings I have heard this twelvemonth. Why, nephew, let your girl sup with any body, so we may have Lady Jenny back with us." " I know," said the countess (-,vho was desirous to see how far he could carry it) " Jenny won't leave Mrs. B. ; so if you see one you must see t'other." " Nay, then I must sit down contented. Yet I should be glad to see Lady Jenny. But I will not sit at table with Mr. B's girl that's positive." " Well, well, let 'em sup together, and there's an end of it," said Mr. B. " I see my uncle has as good a judgment as any body of fine ladies" (" That I have nephew") " But he can't forego his humour, in compli- ment to the finest lady in England." " Consider, nephew, 'tis not thy doing a foolish thing, and calling a girl wife, shall cram a niece down my throat, that's positive. The moment she comes down to take place of these ladies, I am gone, that's most certain." " Well then, shall I go up, and oblige Pamela to sup by herself, and persuade Lady Jenny to come down to us ?" " With all my soul, nephew a good motion. But, Pamela did you say ? A queer sort of name ! I've heard of it somewhere ? Is it a Christian or a pagan name ? Linsey-woolsey half one, half t'other like thy girl Ha, ha, ha."" Let me be hang'd," whispered Mr. H. to his aunt, " if Sir Jacob has not a power of wit ; though he is so whimsical with it. I like him much." " But hark ye, nephew," said Sir Jacob, " one word with you. Don't fob upon us your girl with the pagan name for Lady Jenny. I have set a mark upon her, and should know her from a thousand, although she had changed her hoop." Then he laughed again, and said, he hoped Lady Jenny would come and without any body with her " But I smell a plot," said he" By my soul I won't stay, if they both come together PAMELA. 573 Sir Jacob's Remarks on Lady Jenny. I won't be put upon But here is one or both Where's my whip ? I'll go." " Indeed, Mr. B. I had rather have staid with Mrs. B." said I, as I entered, as he had bid me. " 'Tis she ! 'tis she ! You've nobody behind you ! No, she ha' n't Why now, nephew, you're right ; I was afraid you'd have put a trick upon me. You'd ratJier," repeated he to me, " have staid with Mrs. B. ! Yes, I warrant But you shall be placed in better company, my dear child." " Sister," said Mr. B. " will you take that chair ; for Pamela does not choose to give my uncle disgust, who so seldom comes to see us." My lady took the upper end of the table, and I sat next below my new mamma. " So, Jenny," said she, ** how have you left Mrs. B. ?" " A little con- cerned ; but she was the easier, as Mr. B. himself desired I'd come down." My Lord Davers sat next me, and Sir Jacob said, " Shall I beg a favour of you, my lord, to let me sit next to Lady Jenny ?" Mr. B. said, " Won't it be better to sit over against her, uncle ?" " Ay, that's right, i'faith, nephew, thou knowst what's right. Well, so I will." He accor- dingly removed his seat, and I was very glad of it. He ran on a deal in my praises, after his manner, but so rough at times, that he gave me pain ; and I was afraid too, lest he should observe my ring; but he stared so much in my face, that it escaped his notice. After supper, the gentlemen sat down to their bottle, and the ladies and I with- drew, and about twelve they broke up ; Sir Jacob talking of nothing but Lady Jenny, anil wished Mr. B. had happily married such a charming creature, who carried tokens of her high birth in her face, and whose every feature and look shewed her to be nobly descended. They let him go to bed with his mistake : but the countess said next morning, she thought she never saw a greater instance of stupid pride and churlishness ; and should be sick of the advantage of birth or ancestry, if this was the natural fruit of it. " For a man," said her ladyship, " to come to his nephew's house, and to suffer the mistress of it to be closetted up (as he thinks) in order to humour his absurd and brutal insolence, and to behave as he has doue, is such a ridicule upon the pride of descent, that 1 shall ever think of it. O Mrs. B." said she, " what advantages have you over every one that sees you ; but most over those who pretend to treat you unworthily !" I expect to be called to breakfast every minute, and shall then perhaps see how this matter will end. I wish, when it is revealed, he may not be in a fury, and think himself imposed on. I fear it won't go off so well as I wish ; for every body seems to be grave, and angry at Sir Jacob. THURSDAY. I sow proceed with my tale. At breakfast-tinif, when every one a^ -V, Sir Jacob began to all out for Lady Jenny. " But," said lie, " I'll 574 PAMELA. . . , ' . ".. ' . " ,-., ; ' , , ai Lady Jenny discovered by Sir Jacob to be Mrs. R. have none of your girl, nephew : although the chair at the tea-table is left for somebody." " No," said Mr. B. " we'll et Lady Jenny to supply Mrs. B.'s place, since you don't care to see her."" With all my heart," replied he. " But, uncle," said Mr. B. " have you really no desire, no curiosity to see the girl I have married ?" " No, none at all, by my soul." Just then I came in, and paying my compliments to the company, and to Sir Jacob" Shall I," said I, " supply Mrs. B.'s place in her absence ?" And down I sat. After breakfast, and the servants were withdrawn " Lady Jenny," said Lady Davers, " you are a young lady, with all the advantages of birth and descent ; and some of the best blood in the king- dom runs in your veins ; and here Sir Jacob Swynford is your great admirer: cannot you, from whom it will come with a double grace, con- vince him that he acts unkindly at my brother's house, to keep the person he has thought worthy of making the mistress of it, out of company ? And let us know your opinion, whether my brother himself does right, to comply with such an unreasonable distaste ?" " Why, how now, Lady Davers ! This from you ! I did not expect it '." " My uncle," said Mr. B. " is the only person in the kingdom that I would have humoured thus : and I made no doubt, when he saw how will- ing I was to oblige him in such a point, he would have acted a more gene- rous part than he has yet done. But Lady Jenny, what say you to my sister's questions ?" " If I musfc speak my mind," replied I, " I should take the liberty to be very serious with Sir Jacob, and to say, that when a thing is done, and cannot be helped, he should take care how he sows the seeds of indifference and animosity between man and wife, and makes a gentleman dissatisfied with bis choice, and perhaps unhappy as long as he lives." " Nay, .Miss," said he, "if all are against me, and you, whose good opinion I value most, you may e'en let the girl come, and sit down. If she is but half as pretty, and half as wise, and modest, as you, I shall, as it cannot be helped, as you say, be ready to think better of the matter. For 'tis a little hard, 1 must needs say, if she has hitherto appeared before all the good company, to keep her out of the way on my account." " Really, Sir Jacob," said the countess, " I have blushed for you more than once on this occasion. But the mistress of this house is more than half as wise, and modest, and lovely : and in hopes you will return me back some of the blushes I have lent you, see there, in my daughter Jenny, whom you have been so justly admiring, the mistress of the house, and the lady with the pagan name." Sir Jacob sat aghast, looking at us all in turn, and then cast his eyes on the floor. At last, up he got, and swore a sad oath ; " And am I thus tricked and bamboozled," that was his word ; " am I ? There's no bear- ing this house, nor her presence; now, that's certain ; and I'll be gone." PAMELA. 575 r - 8ir Jacob reconciled to Mrs. B. Mr. B. looking at me, and nodding his head towards Sir Jacob, as he was in a flutter to be gone, I rose from my chair, and went to him, and took his hand. *' I hope, Sir Jacob, you will be able to bear both, when you shall see no other difference but that of descent, between the supposed Lady Jenny you so kindly praised, and the girl your dear nephew has so much exalted." " Let me go," said he ; '* I am most confoundedly bit. I cannot look you in the face ! By my soul, I cannot I For 'tis impossible you should forgive me." " Indeed it is not, Sir ; you have done nothing but'what I can forgive you for, if your dear nephew can ; for to him was the wrong, if any, and I am sure he can overlook it. And for his sake, to the uncle of so honoured a gentleman, to the brother of my late good lady, I can, with a bent knee, thus, ask your blessing, and your excuse for joining to keep you in this suspense." " Bless you !" said he, and stamped " Who can choose but bless \ou ?" and he kneeled down, and wrapped his arms about me " But, curse me," that was his strange word, " if ever I was so touched before '." My dear Mr. B. for fear my spirits should be too much affected (for the rough baronet, in his transport, had bent ine down lower than I kneeled) came and held my arm ; but permitted Sir Jacob to raise me ; only saying, " How docs my angel ? Now she has made this conquest, -die has completed all her triumphs." " Angel, did you call her ? By my soul, I'm confounded with her goodness, and her sweet carriage ! Rise, and let me see if I can stand myself. And, believe me, I am sorry 1 have acted thus so much like a bear; and the more I think of it, the more I shall be ashamed of myself." And the tears, as he spoke, ran down his rough cheeks ; which moved me much ; for to see a man with so hard a countenance weep, was a touching sight. Mr. H. putting his handkerchief to his eyes, his aunt said, " What's the matter, Jackey ?" " 1 don't know how 'tis," answered he ; " but here's strange doings, as ever I knew For, day after day, one's ready to cry, without knowing whether it be for joy or sorrow ! What a plague's the jnatter with me, I wonder '." And out he went, the two ladies, whose charming eyes, too, glistened with pleasure, smiling at the effect the scene had upon Mr. H. and at what he said. " Well, Madam," said Sir Jacob, approachwig me ; for I had sat down, but then stood up " You will for- give mc ; and from my heart I wish you joy. By my soul I do" and saluted me " I could not have believed there had been such a person breathing. I don't wonder at my nephew's loving you ! And you call her lister, Lady Davers, don't you ? If you do, I'll own her for my niece." ' Don't I ! Yes, I do," said she, coming tome, ' and am proud so to call her. And 'h ; * I tell you, for your comfort, though to my own shame, that 1 ustd her worse than you have don<-, before I knew her excellence; and have repented, of it ever since." 576 PAMELA. Conversation of the Company, I bowed to her ladyship, and kissed her hand " My dearest lady," said I, " you have made me such rich amends since, that I am sure I may say, It was good for me that I was afflicted 1' " "Why, nephew, she has the fear of God, I perceive, before her eyes too ! I'm sure I've heard those words. They are somewhere in the scripture, I believe! Why who knows but she may be a means to save your soul ! Hey, you know I" " Ay, Sir Jacob, she'll be a means to save a hundred souls, and might go a great way to save yours, if you were to live with her but one month." " Well, but, nephew, I hope you forgive me too ; for, now I ihink of it, I never knew you take any matter so patiently in my life." I knew," said Mr. B. " that every extravagance you insisted upon was heightening my charmer's triumph, and increasing your own contrition ; and, as I was not indeed deprived of her company, I could bear with every thing you said or did Yet don't you remember my caution, that the less you said against her, the less you'd have to unsay, and the less to repent of?" " I do ; and let me ride out, and call myself to account for all I have said against her, in her own hearing; and when I can think of but one half, and how she has taken it, by my soul, I believe 'twill make me mote than half mad." > At dinner (when we had Mr. Williams's company) the baronet told me, he admired me now as much as when he thought me Lady Jenny ; but complained of the trick put upon hiin by us all, and seemed now and then a little serious upon it. He went from us after dinner to Mrs. Jervis, and made her answer many questions about me, and how all these matters had come about, as he phrased it ; and returning, when we drank coffee, said, " I have been confabbing with Mrs. Jervis, about you, niece. By my soul, I never heard the like ! She says you can play on the harpsichord, and sing too ; will you let a body have a tune or so? My Mab can play pretty well, and so can Dolly : I'm a judge of music, and would fain hear you." I said, if he was a judge I should be afraid to play before him ; but I would not be asked twice, after our coffee. Accordingly he repeated his request. I gave him a tune, and, at his desire, sung to it : " Od's my life," said he, " you do it purely ! But I see where it is My girls have got my fingers !" Then he held both hands out, and a fine pair of paws shewed he. After supper we fell into a conversation, of which I must give you some account, being on a topic that Mr. B. has been blamed for in his marrying me, and which has stuck by some of his friends, even after they have, in kindness to me, acquitted him in every other respect; and that is, the example he has set to young gentlemen of family and J or tune to marry beneath them. It was begun by Sir Jacob, who said, '* I am in love with my new niece, that I am : but still one thing sticks with me in this affair, PAMELA. 577 upon the Example of Mr. B.'s Marriage. which is, what will become of degree or distinction, if this practice of gen- tlemen marrying their mothers' waiting-maids Excuse me, Madam should come into vogue ? Already, young ladies and young gentlemen are too apt to be drawn away thus, and disgrace their families. We hase too many instances of this. You'll forgive me, both of you." " That," said Lady Davers, " is the only thing! Sir Jacob has hit upon the point that would make one wish this example had not been set by a gentleman of such an ancient family, till one becomes acquainted with this dear creature ; and then every body thinks it should not be otherwise than it is." " Ay, Pamela," said Mr. B. " what can you say to this ? Cannot you defend me from this charge ? This is a point that has been often objected to me ; try for one- of your pretty arguments in my behalf." " Indeed, Sir," replied I, looking down, " it becomes not me to say any thing to this." " But indeed it does, if you can : and 1^ beg you'll help rne to some excuse, if you have any at hand." " Won't you, Sir, dispense with me on this occasion ? I know not what to say. Indeed I should not, if I may judge for myself, speak one wort! to this subject. For it is my absolute opinion, that degrees in general should be kept up ; although I must always deem the present case a happy exception to the rule." MrB. looked as if he still expected I should say something " Won't you, Sir, dispense with me ?" repeated I. " Indeed I should not speak to this point, if I may be my own judge." " I always intend, my dear, you shall judge for yourself; and, you know, I seldom urge you farther, when you use those words. But if you have any thing upon your mind to say, let's have it : for your arguments are always new and unborrowed." " I would then, if I must, Sir, 2k, if there be not a nation, or if there has not been a law in some nation, which, whenever a young gentleman, be his degree what it would, has seduced a poor mature, be her degree what it would, oblige him to marry that unhappy person ?" " I think there is such a law in some country, I can't tell where," said Sir Jacob. " And do you think, Sir, whether it be so or not, that it is equitable iv should be so ?" " Yes, by my troth. Though I must needs own, if it were so in Eng- land, many men, that 1 know, would nut have the wives they now have." " You speak to your knowledge, I doubt not, Sir Jacob ?" said Mr. 1$. " Why, truly I don't know but I do." " All then," said I, " that I would infer, is, whether another law would not be a still more just arid equitable one, that the g*M)tb man who is repulsed, from a principle of virtue and honour, should not be censured ' for marrying a person he could nut seduce ? And whether it is not more b \'J V o 57S PAMELA. i - Mr. B. justifies his Choice. . , _ . _ , for both their honours, if he does ; since it is nobler to reward a virtue than to repair a shame, were that shame to be repaired by matrimony, which I take the liberty to doubt. But I beg pardon ; you commanded me, Sir, else this subject should not have found a speaker to it in me." " This is admirably said by my soul it is," said Sir Jacob. " But yet this comes not up to the objection," said Mr. B. " The setting an ex- | ample to waiting-maids to aspire, and to young gentlemen to descend." And I will enter into the subject myself; and the rather, because as I go along, I will give Sir Jacob a faint sketch of the merit and character of my Pamela, of which he cannot be so well informed as he has been of the disgrace which he imagined I had brought upon myself by marrying her. I think it necessary, that as well those persons who are afraid the example should be taken, as those who are inclined to follow it, should consider all the material jiarts of it ; otherwise, I think the precedent may be justly cleared ; and the fears of the one be judged groundless, and the plea of the other hut a pretence, in order to cover a folly into which they would have fallen, whether the}' had this example or not. For instance, in order to lay claim to the excuses, which my conduct, if I may suppose it of force enough to do either good or hurt, will furnish, it is necessary, That the object of their wish should be a girl of exquisite beauty (and that not only in their own blinded and partial judgments, but in the opinion of every one who sees her, friend or foe) in order to justify the force which the first attractions have upon him : That she be descended of honest and conscientious, though poor and obscure parents ; who, having preserved their integrity through great trials and afflictions, have, by their examples, as well as precepts, laid deep in the girl's mind the foundations of piety and virtue. " It is necessary that to the charms of person this waiting-maid should have a humble, teachable mind, fine natural parts, a sprightly, yet inoffensive wit, a temper so excellent, and a judgment so solid, as should promise (by the love and esteem these qualities should- attract to herself from her fellow-servants, superior and inferior) that she would become a higher station, and be respected in it. And that, after so good a foundation laid by her parents, she should have all the advantages of female education conferred upon her; the example of an excellent lady, improving and building upon so worthy a foundation ; a capacity sur- prisingly ready to take in'all that is taught her : an attention, assiduity, and diligence almost peculiar to herself, at her time of life ; so as, at fifteen or sixteen stars of age, to be able to vie with any young ladies of rank, as well in the natural genteelnfcss of her person, as in her acquire- ments : and that in nothing but her humility she should manifest any difference between herself and the high-horn. PAMELA. 579 Mr. B. justifies his C: oice. " It will be necessary, moreover, that she should have a niiiul above, temptation ; that she should resist the offers and menaces of one upon whom all her worldly happiness seemed to depend ; the son of a lady to whom she owed the greatest obligations ; a person whom she did not hate, but greatly feared, and whom her grateful heart would have been glad to oblige ; and who sought to prevail over her virtue, by all the inducements that could be thought of, to attract a young unexperienced virgin at one time, or to frighten her at another, into his purposes; who offered her very high terms, her circumstances considered, as well for herself, as for parents she loved better than herself, whose circumstances were low and distressful : Yet, to all these offers and menaces, that she should be able to answer in such words as these, which will always dwell upon my me- mory ' I reject your proposals with all my soul- May God desert me, whenever I make worldly grandeur my chiefest good! L know I am in your power ; I dread your will to ruin me is as great as your, power. Yet, will I dare t tell you, I will make no free-will offering of my virtue. All that I can do, poor as it is, I will do, to shew you, that my will bore no - part in the violation of me.' And when future marriage was intimated to her, to induce her>o yield, to be able to answer, ' The moment 1 yield ' ^o your proposals, there is an end of all merit, if now 1 have any. And I should be so far from expecting such an honour, that 1 will pronounce I should be most unworthy of it.' " If, I say, such a girl can be found, thus beautifully attractive in every one's eve, and not partially so only in a young gentleman's own , and after that (what good persons would infinitely prefer to beauty) thus piously principled; thus genteely educated and accomplished; thus brilliantly witty; thus prudent, modest, generous, undesigning ; and having been thus tempted, thus tried, by the man she hated not, pursued (not in- tiiguingly pursuing) be thus inflexibly virtuous, and proof against tempta- tion: let her reform her libertine, and let him marry her ; and wire he of princely extraction, I dare answer for it, that no iico princes in one age, takt the world through, would be in danger. I'or, although I am sensible it is not to my credit, I will say, that I never met with a repulse, nor i conduct like thi> ; and %et I never sunk very low for the subjects of my attempts, either at h >tne or abroad. These arc obviwus inference he, " not refinements upon my Pamela'! story ; and if the were capable of thought and comparison, would rather muk< example, as i. apprehended, wort t h.ui las difficult than bifne. "But if, indeed, the young fellow lie such a l;onl>\ , that refect and compare, and take the case with all <7> circumsfoinc I think hi-, good papa or mamma should get him a wife to their own liking, as soon as possible ; and the poorest girl in England, who is 'honest, y u 2 ui !em .1 t ii U' h VII ( aim Ot ether, 580 PAMELA. I Mr. B. justifies his Choice. should rather bless herself for escaping such a husband, than glory in the catch she would have of him. For he would hardly do honour to his family in any one instance." " Indeed," said the countess, *' it would be pity, after all, that such an one should marry any lady of prudence and birth ; for 'tis enough in conscience, that he is a disgrace to one worthy family ; it would be pity he should make two unhappy." / " Why, really, nephew," said Sir Jacob, " I think you have said much to the purpose. There is not so much danger, from the example, as I apprehended, from sensible and reflecting minds. I did not consider this matter thoroughly, I must needs say." " And the business is," said Lady Davers " Yyu'll excuse me, sister There will be more people hear that "Mr. B. has married his mother's waiting-maid, than will know his inducements." '* Not many, I believe, sister. For when 'tis known I have some character in the world, and am not quite an idiot (and- my faults, in having not been one of the most virtuous of men, will stand me in some stead in this case, though hardly in any other) they will naturally inquire into my inducements." You may believe, my friend, how much this 'generous defence of the step he had taken, attributing every thing to me, and depreciating his worthy self, affected me. I played with a cork one while, with my rings another; looking down, and every way but on the company ; for they gazed too much upon me all the time ; so that I could only glance a tearful eye now and then upon the dear man ; and when it would overflow, catch in my handkerchief the escaped fugitives that would start unbidden beyond their proper limits, though I often tried, by a twinkling motion, to dis- perse the gathering water, before it had formed itself into drops too big to be restrained. Al the company praised the dear generous speaker; and he was pleased to say farther, " Although, my good friends, I can truly say, that with all the pride of family, and the insolence of fortune, which one made me doubt whether I should not sink too low if 1 made my Pamela my mistress (for I should then have treated her not ungene- rously and should have sutfereu her, perhaps, to call herself by my name) J base never once? repented of what I have done : on the contrary, always rejoiced in it, and it has been, from the first day of our marriage, my pride and my boast (and shall be, let others say what they will) that I can call such an excelienet , and such a purity, which I so little deserve, mine ; and I look down with contempt upon the rashness of all who reflect upon me ; for they can have no notion of my happiness or her merit." " O dear Sir, how do you over-rate my poor merit ! Some persons are happy in a life of comforts, but mine's a life of joy ! One rapturous instance follows another so "fast, that I know not how to bear them." ,; Whew I" whistled Sir Jacob. " Whereabouts am I ? I hope by-andr PAMELA. 581 Conversation of the Company. by you'll come down to our pitch, that one may put in a word cr two with you." " May you be long thus blest and happy together!" said Lady Davers, " I know not which to admire most, the dear, girl that never was bad, or the dear man, who, having been bad, is now so good !" Said Lord Davers, " There is hardly any bearing these moving scenes, following one another so quick, as my sister says." The countess was pleased to say, that till now she had been at a loss to form any notion of the happiness of the first pair before the fall ; but now, by so fine an instance as this, she comprehended it in all its force. " God continue you to one another," added she, " for a credit to the state, and to human nature." Mr. H. having his elbows on the table, folded his hands, shaking them, and looking down " Egad, this is uncommon life, that it is! Your two souls, 1 can see that, are like well-tuned instruments : but they are too high set for me' a vast deal." %* " The best thing," said Lady Davers (always severe upon her poor nephew) " thou ever saidst. The music must be equal to that of Orpheus, which can make such a sax age as thee dance to it. 1 charge thee, say not another word to-night." " Whv, indeed, aunt," returned he, laughing, i " I believe it was pretty well said for your foolish fellow : though it was by chance, 1 must confess; 1 did not think of it." "That I b_die%e," replied my lady : " if thou hadst, thou'dst not have spoken so well." Sir Jacob and Mr. B. afterwards fell into a family discour-c ; and Sir Jacob told us of two or three courtships by his three sii : , ai n to his two daughters and his reasons for disallowing them : and I could observe, ha is an absolute tyrant in his family, though they are all men and women grown, and he seemed to please himself Low much they stood in awe of him. One odd piece of conversation 1 must tell you, Miss, because of tiie inference that followed it. Sir Jacob asked Mr. il. if he did not remember John Wilkins, his stew- ard ? " He was an honest fellow," said he, "as e\er lived. But he's dead. Alas for him, poor Jack ! He physie'd himself out of his life. He would be always taking slips : had 1 done so, I should have gone to the dogs long ago. But whom do you think, nephew, I have got in his place ! Why, it is Jerry Sherwood ? a hoy I took upon charity, and taught to write and read, or paid f'or't, and that's the same tiling Hey, you know ! ftnd now Jerry's a gentleman's fellow, and is much respected by all our hunters; for he's a keen sportsman, I'll assure you. I brought him up to that myself; and many a jirk has the dog had from me, before I could make any thing of him. Many and many a good time have I thwack'd 9 o 3 58<2 PAMELA. , Mr. P. rttorta on Mr Jacob. the rascal's jacket : and he owes all he is, and will be, to me. And now I suffer him to sit at table with me, when I have no guests." " But is not this a bad' example," said Mr. B. " to promote so low a servant to the command of a family under you ? What do gentlemen say to this ?" " Gentlemen say to it ! Why surely I may da as L will in my own house, atid in my own family, or else it would be very hard." " True, Sir Jacob, but people will be meddling where they have least business. But are not all the gentlemen uneasy, for fear their lowest ser- vants, from the example set by so leading a man as you, a chairman of the sessions, a colonel of militia, a deputy lieutenant, and a justice of quorum, should want to be made their stewards ?" " Why, I can't say that any body lias taken it into their heads to ques- tion me upon this subject. I should think them plaguy impertinent, if they had, and bid them mind their own business." " But you'll allow, Sir Jacob, that ever)' one who knows you have raised your foot-boy to be your steward, will not knMv your inducements ; although, I doubt not, they are very good ones." Lady Davers shook her bead at her brother, saying, " Very well, Sir, very well !" Sir Jacob cried out, " Oh ho, nephew ! are you thereabouts with your beSrs : Why, J can't say but your in with me now. Let's see, what have I said ? Ay, by my soul, you have nabb'd me cleverly. Faith and troth, you have convinced me, by an example of my own, that I was impertinent to trouble my head about the management of your family. Though near kindred makes some excuse for ine too. And, besides, a steward and a wife are two things." " So I'd have 'em be, Sir Jacob. But good wives are but stewards to their husbands in many cases ; and mine is the best that ever man had." " Pretty expensive ones, nephew, for all that, as the world runs. I believe stewards of this sort run out more than they save; but that's not yjur case, I dare say. I'faith, though, you have nick'd me cleverly." " But, my witty brother," said my lady, " I believe you'd better, for all your fling at me, as to inducements, stick to your first defence, as to the example sake ; for who stands upon birth or degree in the office of a steward?" " It will answer several purposes, sister, and come nearer the. point in what you object, than you are aware of, Were we to dispute upon it. But 1 have gained my end in the observation : Sir Jacob takes the force of the comparison, and is convinced, I dare say, there is some justice in it." " Ay, ay, a great deal," said Sir Jacob ; " for a wife i = , or ought to be, her husband's steward. When mine was living, I made her 90, and had no other; for she made memorandums, and I digested them into a book ; and yet she brought me a noble fortune too, as you all know." PAMELA. 583 Letter from Miss Darnfonl to Mrs. B. Here 1 conclude my narration. Pray skim them over lightly, that you may not think the worse of me ; and then return them (with some of your charming penmanship) that I may send them on to Kent. I would not have been so tediously trifling, but for the sake of my dear parents ; and there is so much self-praise, as it may seem, from a person on repeat- ing the fine things said of herself, that I am half of opinion 1 should send them to Kent only, and to think you should be obliged to me for saving you so much trouble and impertinence. Do, dear Miss, be so free as to forbid me to send you any more long journals, but common letters only, of how you do ? and who and who's together, and of respects to one another, atid so forth Letters that one might dispatch, as Sir Jacob says, in a twinkling, and perhaps be more to the purpose than the tedious scrawl which kisses your hands, from yours most sincerely, P. B. Do, dear good Sir Simon, let Miss Polly add to our delights, by her charming company. Mr. Murray, and the new affair will divert you, in her absence. So pray, since my good Lady Darnford has consented, and she is willing, and her sister can spare her ; don't be so cross as to deny me. . LETTER XXXI. From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. MY DEAR MRS. B. VOL' have given us great pleasure in your accounts of your conversa- tions, and of the verses put so wickedly under your seat ; and in your just observations on t lie lines, and occasions. - We are delighted with the account of your family management, and your Sunday's service. What an excellent 1 '.dy you arc ! And bow happy and good you make all who know you, is seen by the ladies joining in your evening service, as well as their domestic We go on here swimmingly with our courtship. Never was there a fonder couple than Mr. Murray and Mis-, Nancy. The modest girl is quite alive, easy, and pleased, except now and then with me. We bad a sad falling out t'other day. Thus it was : She had the assurance, en nty s^ ing they were so fond anil free before band, that they would leave nothing for improvement afterwards, to tell me, she bad long perceived, 1haf n.v envy was very disquieting to me. This she said before Mr. Murray, who had the good manners to retire, seeing a storm rising Ix.twi en us. " I'oor foolish girl !" cried I, when be was gone, provoked to great contempt l^y her expression before him, " thou wilt make me despise thee in spite of my heart. But, prithee, manage thy matters with common decency, at least." "Good lack! Common decency, did sou say? When my sister y y 4 584 PAMELA. Petnla .cc of Miss D.irnfoifl's Sister. Polly is able to shew me what it is, v I shall hope to be better for her example." " No, thou'lt never be better for any body's example 1 Thy ill-nature ami perverseness will continue to keep thee from that." " My ill-temper, you have often told me, is natural to me : so it must become me : h\tt upon such a sweet tempered young lady as Miss Polly, her late assumed petulance sits but ill !" ' . " I must have had no bad temper, and that every one says, to bear with thy sullen and perverse one, as I have done all my life." * " But why can't you bear with it a little longer, sister ? Does any thing provoke you now" (with a sly leer and affected drawl) ' that did not formerly ?" " Provoke me ! What should provoke me ? I gave thee but a hint of thy fohd folly, which makes thee behave so before company, that every one smiles at thee ; and I'd be glad to save thee from contempt for thy new good humour, as I used to try to do, for thy old bad nature." " Is that it ? What a kind sister have I ! But I see" it vexes you ; ajid ill-natured folks love to tease, you know. But, dear Polly, don't let the affection Mr. Murray^ expresses for me put such a, good tempered body out of humour, pray don't '. Who knows" (continued the provoker, who never Says a tolerable thing that is not ill-natured) " but the gentleman mny be happy that he has found a way, with so much ease, to dispense with the difficulty that eldership laid him under ? But, as he did you the favour to let the repulse come from you, don't be angry, sister, that he took you at the first word." " Indeed," said. I, with a contemptuous smile, " thou'rt in the right, Nancy, to take the gentleman at his first word. Hold him fast, and play over all thy monkey tricks with him, with all my heart ; who knows but it may engage him more ? For, should he leave thee, I might be too much provoked at thy ingratitude, to turn ov>.r another gentleman to thee. And let me tell thee, without such an introduction, thy temper would keep any body from thee that knows it !" " Poor Miss Polly Come, be as easy as you can ! Who knows but we may find out some cousin or frienu of Mr. Murray's between us, that we may persuade to address you ? Don't make us your enemies : we'll try to make you easy, if we can. 'Tis a little hard, that you should be so cruelly taken at your word, that it is." " Dost think," said I, " poor stupid, ill judging Nancy, that I can have the same regret for parting with' a man I could not like, that thou hadst, when thy vain hopes met with the repulse they deserved from Mr. B. ?" "Mr. B. come up again! 1 have not heard of him a great while." " No, but it was necessary that one nail should drive out another; for thou'ust been repining still, had not Mr. Murray been turned over to thee."" Turned over .' You used that word PAMELA. S8! Petnlance of Miss Darnfor.tl's Sister. once before : such great wits as you, metbinks, should not use the same word twice." " How dost thou know what wits should, or should not do ? Thou hast no talent but ill-r/ature ; and 'tis enough for thee, that one view takes up thy whole thought. Pursue that But I would only caution thee, not to satiate where thou wouldst oblige, that's all : or, if thy man can be so gross as to like thy fondness, to leave something for hereafter." " I'll call him in again, sister, and you sb -ill acquaint us how you'd have it. Bell (for the maid came in just then) tell Mr. Murray I desire him to walk in." " I'm glad to see thee so teachable all at once ! I find now what was the cause of thy constant perverseness : for had the unavailing lessons my mamma was always inculcating into thee come from a man thou couldst have had hopes of, they had succeeded better." In came Sir Simon with his crutch-stick But can you,bear this non- sense, Mrs. B. ? " What, sparring, jangling again, you sluts ! Oh, what fiery eyes on one side ! and contemptuous-hxiks on t'other !" " Why, papa, my sister Polly has turned over Mr. Murray to me, and she wants him back again, and he won't come That's all the matter !" " You know Nancy, papa, never could bear reproof, and yet would always deserve it! 1 was only gently remarking for her instruction, on her fondness before company, and she is is she used to be ! Courtship, indeed, is a new thing to the poor girl, and so she knows not how to behave herself in it." " So, Polly, because you have been able to run over a long list of hum- ble servants, you must insult your sister, must you ? Hut are you really concerned, Polly ? Hay !" " Sir, this or any thing is very well from you. But these imputations of envy, before Mr. Murray, must make the man very considerable with himself. Poor Nancy don't consider that. But, indeed, how should she? How should she be able to reflect, who knows not what reflection is, except of the spiteful sort ? But, papa, should the poor thing add to his vanity, which \s ants no addition, at the expense of that pride, which ran only preserve her from contempt?" 1 saw her affected, and was resolved to put sue my advantage. " Prithee, Nancy," continued I, " canst thou not have a little pa- tience, child .My papa will set the day as so< .1 as he shall think it prop< r. And don't hi thy man toil to keep pace with thy fondness; fori have pitied him many a time, when I have seen him stretched on the i< liters to keep thee in countenance." This set the ill-natured girl in tears and fret fulness ; all her old tem- per 'came npon her, as I designed it should, for =he \i:u\ Kept me at hay longer than usual : and 1 left her under h< '' > and because I would not come into fresh dispute, got my mamma's leave, and went in 586 PAMELA. Miss Darnford's Remarks on licr Sister's Couitsliip. the chariot, to beg a dinner at Lady Jones's ; and then came home is cool and as easy as I used to be ; and found Nancy as sullen and" silent, as was her custom before Mr. Murray tendered himself to her ready accept- ance. But I went to my spinet, and suffered her to swell on. We have said nothing but no, and yes, ever since ; and I wish i was with you for a month, and all their nonsense over without me. I am, my dear obliging and excellent Mrs. B. your faithful atifl affectionate POM.Y DaRNFORD. The two following anticipating the order of time, for the reason men- tioned p. 490, we insert here. LETTER XXXII. From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. MY DKAR MRS. B. PRAY give my service to your Mr. B. and tell him he is very impolite in his reflections upon me, as to Mr. Murray, when he supposes I regret, the loss of him. You are much more favourable and just too, I will say, to your Polly Darnford. These gentlemen, the very best of them, are such indelicates! They think so highly of their saucy selves, and confi- dent sex, as if a lady cannot from her heart despise them ; but if she turns them off, as they deserve, and continues her dislike, what should be interpreted in her favour, as a just and regular conduct, is turned against her, and it must proceed from spite. Mr. B. may think he knows much of the sex. But were I as malicious as he is reflecting (and yet, if I have any malice he has raised it) I could say that his acquaintance was not with the most unexceptionable, till he knew you : and he has not long enough been happy in you, I find, to do justice to those who are proud to emulate your virtues. But I can't bear, it seetns, to see my sister complimented, and preferred by one whom I bad thought in my own power ! But he may be mistaken : with all his sagacity, he has been often. Nor is- it so mortifying a thing to me as he imagines, to sit and see two such antics playing their pug's tricks, as he calls them, with one another. But you hardly ever saw such pug's tricks played at so early a time of courtship. The girl hangs upon his arm, and receives his empty head on her shoulder, already, with a freedom that would be censurable in'a bride, before folks. Once a stiff, sullen, proud, scornful girl, she now puts on airs not natural either to her features or her character ; and judge then how disgusting, especially when one sees her man so proud and vain upon it, that, like a true man, he treats her with the less ceremony for her condescensions, putting on airs of consequence, while her easiness of behaviour makes him secure of acceptance, and a kind reception, let him be as negligent or as forward as he pleases. PAMELA. 587 Miss Darnford's Remarks on her Sistei's Courtship. I say, Mrs. B. there can be no living witli these men upon such begin- nings* They ought to know their distance, or be taught it, and not to think it in their power to confer that as a favour, which they should esteem it an honour to receive. N But neither can I bear, it seems, the preparatives to matrimony, the fine clothes, the compliments, the busy novelty, as he calls it, the new equipages, and so forth. Thai's his mistake again, tell him : for one who can look forwarder than the nine days of wonder, can easily despise so flashy and so transient a glare. And were I fond of compliment*, it would not, perhaps, be the way to be pleased, in that respect, if I were to marry. Compliments in the single state are a lady's due, whether courted or not ; and she receive*, or ought always to receive them, as such ; but in courtship (hey are poured out upon one, like a hasty shower soon to be over. A mjghty comfortable consideration this, to a lady who loves to be complimented I Instead of the refreshing April-like showers, which beau- tify the sunshine, she shall stand a deluge of complaisance, be wet to the skin with it; and what then ? Why be in a Lybiau desert ever after! experience a constant parching drought, and all her attributed excellen- ces will be swallowed up in the quicksands of matrimony. It may be otherwi-e with you ; and it must be so ; because th-re is such an infinite variety in your excellence. But does Mr. B. think it must be so in every matrimony ? 'Tis true, he improves every hour, as I see in hi* fine speeches to you. But it could not be Mr. B. if he did not : your merit extorts it from him : and what an ungrateful, as well as absurd churl, would he be, who should seek to obscure a meridian lustre, that dazzles the eyes of every one else ? ^ But let me observe, moreover, that you hail so few of these fine speeches beforehand, that you have every reason to expect them now : and this lessens his merit a good deal, as the mo-,1 he can say is but common jus- tice on full proof; for, can like generosity he attributed to him, .is' might to a gentli man who prai-.es mt trust.' Vou promise, if 1 will come, vou n with me against Mr. 15. on ;hi^ subject. 'Tis vcrv kindlv offered : but win ii Mr. I!. i, in the question, I expect \er, little, assistance from von, be ii" argument what it will. But ii- not i/i'/ fault I don't come; I am quite tired with the perverse folly of this Nancy of ours. She every day behaxes vmrc like a fool to .Mr. Murray, and less like a sifter to me, and delights to tea- and vex me. And then surliness and ill-temper are so natural to her, that I, who can but throw out a spiteful word, by way of flouvish, as I may say, and 'tis i er, and I am sorry for it as soon as spoken, am no match lor her : for 588 PAMELA. Compliments on Mrs. B. she perseveres so intolerably, and comes back to the attack, though never so often repulsed, rising like Antaeus, with fresh vigour for every fall, or like the Lernasan hydra, which had a new head sprouting up, as fast as any one of the seven was lopt off, that there is no bearing her. Wedlock, in fine, must be her Hercules, and will furnish me, 1 doubt, with a revenge I wish not for. ' ' I thank you for your delightful narratives, and beg you to continue them. I told you how your Saturday's conversation with Lady Davers, and your Sunday employments, charm us all : so regular, and so easy to be performed That's the delightful thing What every body may do ; and yet so beautiful, so laudable, so uncommon in the practice, especially among people in genteel life ! Your conversation and decision in relation to the two parsons (more than charm) transport us. Mr. B. judges right, and acts a charming part, to throw such a fine game into your hands. And so excellently do you play it, that you do as much credit to your partner's judgment as to your own. Never was so happy a couple. He has a prodigious merit with me, I can tell him, though he thinks not so well of mc as I would have him. To see, to praise, and to reward a virtue, is next to having it one's self: and, in time, he will make as good a man (these fine appearances encourage one to hope so) as he is a husband. Your notions of dispensations, and double livings, are admirably just. Mr. Williams is more my favourite than ever ; and the a/nply rewarded Mr. Adams, how did that scene affect us ! Again, and again, I say (for what can I say else or more since I can't find words to speak all 1 think) you're a charming lady ! Yet, methinks, poor Mr. H. makes hut a sorry figure ^among you. We are delighted with Lady Davers ; but still more, if possible, with the countess : she is a fine lady, as you have drawn her : but your characters, though truth and nature, are the most shocking, or the most amiable, that I ever read. We are full of impatience to hear of the arrival of Sir Jacob Swynford. We know his character pretty well : but when he has sat for it to your pencil, it must be an original indeed. 1 will have another trial with my papa, to move him to let me attend you*. I am rallying my forces, and have got my mamma on my side again ; who is concerned to see her girl vexed and insulted by her youngest sister; and who yet minds no more what she says to her, than what I say ; and Sir Simon loves to make mis- chief between us, instead of interposing to silence either : and truly, I am afraidhis delight of this kind will make him deny his Polly what she so ardently wishes for. I had a good mind to be sick, to be with you. I could fast two or three days, to give it the better appearance ; but then my mamma, who loves not deceit, would blame me, if she knew my strata- gem ; and be grieved, if she thought 1 was really ill. I know, fasting, PAMELA. 589 Compliments on Mrs. B. when one has a stomach to eat, gives one a very gloomy and mortifiecTair. What would I not do, in short, to procure to myself the inexpressible plea- sure that I should have in your company and conversation ? But continue to write to me till then, however, and that will be next best. I am your most obliged and obedient Polly Darnford. LETTER XXXIII. From the same. MY DEAREST MRS. B. I AM all over joy and rapture. My good papa permits me to say, that he will put his Polly under your protection, when you go to London. If you have but a tenth part of the pleasure I have on this occasion, I am sure, I shall be as welcome as I wish. But he will insist upon it, he says, that Mr. B. signs some acknowledgment, which I am to carry along with me, that I am entrusted to his honour and yours, and to be returned to him heart-uhole and dutiful, and with a reputation as unsullied as he receives me. But do continue your journals till then ; for I have promised to take them up where you leave off, to divert our friends here. There will be presumption ! But yet I will write nothing but what I will shew you, and have your consent to send ! For I was taught early not to tell tales out of school ; and a school, the best I ever went to, will be your charm- ing conversation. We were greatly diverted with the trick put upon that barbarian Sir Jacob. His obstinacy, repentance, and amendment, followed so irresistibly in one half hour, from the happy thought of the excellent lady countess, that I think no plot was ever more fortunate. It was like springing a lucky mine in a siege, that blew up twenty times more than was expected from it, and answered all the besiegers' ends at once. Mr. B.'s defence of his own conduct towards you is quite noble ; and he judges with his usual generosity and good sense, when, by adding to your honour, he knows he enhances his own. Mr. Pitt's fine diamond met with a world of admirers ; but all turned upon this reflection, " What a happy man is Mr. Pitt, who can call such a jewel Ii is own '." How greatly do you excel this diamond; and how much does Mr. B. outdo Mr. Pitt, who has contributed to give so rich a jewel a polish so admirable : and then has set it in so noble a light, as makes its beauty conspicuous to every eye 1 You bid me skim over your writing-, lightly; but 'tis impossible. 1 will not flatter yon, my dear Mrs. 15. nor will I be suspected to do so ; and yet I cannot find words to praise, so much as I think you deserve . so I will only say that your good parents, for whose pleasure you write, as well as for mine, cannot receive or read them with more delight than I do. Even my Mster Nancy r judge of their effect by this) will at any time leave 590 PAMELA. Sir Simon grants Miss Darnford leave to accompany Mis. B. Murray, and forget to frown or be ill-natured, while she can hear read what you write. And, angry as she makes me sometimes, I cannot deny her this pleasure, because possibly, among the innumerable improving reflections they abound with, some one may dart in upon her, and illu- minate her, as your conversation and behaviour did Sir Jacob. But your application in P. S. to my papa pleased him ; 'and confirmed his resolution to let me go. He snatched the sheet that contained this> " That's to me," said he : " I must read this myself." He did, and said, " I'faith, she's a sweet one ; ' Do, dear good Sir Simon,' repeated he aloud, ' let Miss Polly add lo our delights /' So she shall, then ; if that will do it! And yet this same Mri. li. has so many delights already, that I should think she might t>e contented. * But, Dame Darnford, I think I'll let her go. These sisters then, you'll see, how they'll love at a dis- tance, though always quarrelling when together." He read on, ' f y he new affair will divert you Lady Darnford luis consented Miss is willing ; and her sister can spare her' Very prettily put, faith ' And don't you be cross' Very sweet! ' to deny me.' Why, dear Mrs. B. I won't be so cross then ; indeed I won't ! And so^ Polly, let 'em send word when they set out for London, and you shall join 'em there with all my heart ; but I'll have adetter every post, remember that, girl." " Any thing, any thing, dear papa," said I ; " so I can but go !" He called for a kiss for his compliance. "I gave it most willingly, you may believe. > Nancy looked envious, although Mr. Murray came in just then. She looked almost like a great glutton, whom I remember ; qne Sir Jonathan Smith, who killed himself with eating : he used, while he'was heaping up his plate from one dish, to watch the others, and follow the knife of every body else, with such a greedy eye, as if he could swear a robbery against any one who presumed to eat as well as he. This is a gross simile : but all greedy and envious folks look alike about the eyes ; and, thinking of Nancy on this occasion (who envied a happiness she knew I preferred to that she has in prospect) I could not but call to mind Sir Jonathan at the same time. Well, let's know when you set out, and you sha'n't have been a week in London, if I can help it, but you shall be told by my tongue, as now by my pen, how much I am your obliged admirer and friend, Polly Daknfo;;.'>. PAMELA. 591 z I JU Mrs. B.'s Care of the neighbouring Poor. LETTER XXXIV. MY DEAR FRIEND, I NOW proceed with my journal, which I had brought down to Thursday night. FRIDAY. The two ladies resolving, as they said, to inspect all my proceedings, insisted upon it, that I would take them with me in my benevolent round (as they, after we returned, would call it) which I generally take once a week, among my poor and sick neighbours ; and finding I could not get off, I set out with them, my lady countess promising Mrs. Worden to fill up the fourth placejn the coach. We talked all the way of charity, and the excellence of that duty ; and my Lady Davers took notice of the text, that it would hide a multitude of faults, " And if," she was pleased to say, " there was to be any truth in the popish doctrine of supererogation, what abundance of such merits would arise from the life and actions of our dear friend here 1" kindly looking at me. 1 said, that when we had the pleasure to reflect that we served a Master, who exacted no hard terms from us, but in every case almost that could be thought of, only required of us to do justice, and shew mercy, to one another, and gave us reason to think he would judge us by those rules, it must be a mighty inducement to acts of charity and benevolence. " But, indeed," added I, " were there not that inducement, the pleasure that attends such acts is a high reward ; and I am sure the ladies I have the honour to speak to, must have found it in a hundred instances." The countess said she had once a much better opinion of herself than she found she had reason for, within these few days past : " And indeed, Mrs. B." said she, " when I got home, I shall make a good many people the better for your example. And so said Lady Davers ; which gave me no small inward pleasure ; and I acknowledged, in suitable terms, the honour they both did inc. The coach set us down by the side of a large common, about five miles distant from our house ; and we alighted, and walked a little way, choosing not to have the coach come nearer, that we might be taken as little not ire <,1 as possible ; and they entered with me into two mean cots with great condescension and goodness ; one belonging to a poor widow and live children, who had been all down in agues and fevers ; the other to a man and his wife bed-rid with age and infirmities, and (wo honest daughters, one a widow with two children, the other mar- ried to a husbandman, who had also been ill, but now by comfortable cordials, and good physic, were pretty well to what they had been. The two ladies were well [ leased with my demeanour to the good folks : to whom I said, that as I should go *u soon to London, 1 was willing to see 592 PAMELA. Mr. B.'s Care of the neighbouring Poor. them before I went, to wish them better and better, and to tell them, thai I should leave orders with Mrs. Jervis concerning them, to whom they must make known their wants : and that Mr. Barrow would take care of them, I was sure ; and do all that was in the power of physic for the restoration of their healths. N jw you must know, Miss, that I am not so good as the old ladies of former days, who used to distil cordial waters, and prepare medicines, and dispense them themselves. I knew, if I were so inclined, my dear Mr. B. would not have been pleased with it, because in the approbation he has kindly given to my present method, he has twice or thrice praised me, that 1 don't carry my charity to extremes, and make his house a dispensa- tory. I would not, therefore, by aiming at doing too much, lose the opportunity of doing any good at all in these respects ; and besides, as the vulgar saying is, One must creep before one goes. But this is my method : I am upon an agreement with this Mr. Barrow, who is deemed a very skilful and honest apothecary, and oae Mr. Simmonds, a surgeon of like character, to attend all such cases and persons as I shall recommend: Mr. Barrow, to administer physic and cordials, as he shall judge proper, and even, in necessary cases, to call in a physician. And now and then, by looking in upon them one's self, or sending a servant to ask questions, all is kept right. Besides, one can take this method without the ostentation, as some would deem it, which would attend the having one's dear friend's gate always crowded with unhappy objects, and with some who deserve no countenance, perhaps, and yet would possibly be the most clamorous : and then one does not.subject the poor neither to the insolence of servants, who sometimes, in one's absence, might, were they some servants, shew, that they were far from being influenced by the same motives as their principals : besides the advantage the poor have from the skill and expe- rience which constant practice gives to the gentlemen I employ ; and with whom I agree but by the quarter, because, if there were a just foundation for complaint, for negligence, or hardness of heart, I would not be tied down from changing ; for, in such cases, in a crisis, the poor people, de- pending on the assistance of those gentlemen, might look no farther, and so my good intentions might not only be frustrated, but do harm." My Lady Uavers observed a Bible, a Common Prayer Book, and a Whole Duty of Man, in each cot, in leathern outside cases, to keep them clean, and a Church Catechism or two for the children ; and was pleased to say, it was right ; and her ladyship asked one of the children, a pretty girl, wno learnt her her catechism ? And she curtseyed and looked at me ; for I do ask the children questions, when I come, to know how they improve : PAMELA. R9S ' - -,!-, , I. ' The Caaes relieved by Mrs. B. " 'Tis as 1 thought," said my lady; * my sister provides for both parts. God bless you, my dear I" said she, and tapped my neck. My ladies left tokens of their bounty behind them to both families, and all the good folks blessed and prayed for us at parting : and as we went out, Lady Davers, with a serious air, was pleased to say to me, " Take care of your health, my dear sister ; and God give you, when it comes, a happy hour ; for how many real mourners would you have, if you were to be called early to reap the fruits of your piety '." " God's will must be done, my*lady," said I. " The same Providence that has so wonderfully put it in my power to do a little good, will raise up new friends to the honest hearts that rely upon him." This I said, because some of the good people heard my lady, and . seemed troubled, and began to redouble their prayers for my safety and preservation. We walked thence to our coach, and stretched a little farther, to visit two farmers' families, about a mile distant from each other. One had the mother of the family, with two sons, just recovering, the former from a fever, the. latter from tertian agues ; and I asked, when they saw Mr. Barrow? They told me, with great commendations of him, that he had but just left them. So, having congratulated their hopeful way, and wished them to take care of themselves, and not go too early to business, I said 1 should desire Mr. Harrow to watch over them, for fear of a relapse, and should hardly see 'em again for some time ; ;md so I slid, in a manner not to be observed, a couple of guineas into the good woman's hand ; for I had a hint given me by Mrs. Jervis, that their illness had made it low with them. We proceeded then to the other farm, where the case was a married daughter, who had a very dangerous lying-in, and a wicked husband who had abused her, and run away from her ; but she was mending apace, by good comfortable things, which from time to time I had caused to be sent her. Her old father had been a little unkind to her, before I took notice of her ; for she married against his consent; and indeed the world went hard with the poor man, and he could not do much ; and besides, lie had a younger daughter, who had lost all her limbs and was forced to be tied in a wicker chair, to keep her up in it; which (having expended much to relieve htrj was a great pull-back, as the good old woman called it. And having been a year in arrear to a harsh landlord, who, finding a good stock upon the ground, threatened to distress the poor family, and turn them out of all, 1 advanced the money upon the stock ; and the poor man has already paid me half of it (for, Miss, I must keep within com- pass tooj which was fifty pounds at first, and is in a fair way to pay rats the other ha.lf ajid make as much more for himself. O JO R R G94 PAMELA. Tlie Cases relieved by Mrs. B. Here I found Mr. Barrow, and he gave me an account of the success of two other easel I had recommended to him ; and told me, that John Smith, a poor man, who, in thatching a barn, had tumbled down, and broken his leg, and bruised himself all over, was in a fair way of recovery. This poor creature had like to have perished by the cruelty of the parish officers, who would have passed him away to Essex, where his settlement was, though in a burning fever, occasioned by his misfortune ; but hearing of the case, I directed Mr. Simmonds to attend him, and to provide for* him at my expense, and gave my word, if he died, to bury him. I was glad to hear he was in so good a way ; and told Mr: Barrow, I hoped to see him and Mr. Simmonds together at Mr. B!'s, before 1 set out for London, that we might advise about the cases under their direction, and that I might acquit myself of some of my obligations to them. " You are a good man, Mr. Barrow," added I : " God will bless you fur your care and kindness to these poor destitute creatures. They all praise you, and do nothing but talk of your humanity to them." " O my good lady," said he, " who can forbear following such an exam- ple as you set ? Mr. Simmonds can testify as well as I (for now and then a case requires us to visit together) that we can hardly hear any complaints from our poor patients, let 'em be ever so ill, for the praises and blessings they bestow upon von," " It is good Mr. B. that enables and encourages me to do what I do. Tell them, they must bless God, and bless him, and pray for me, and thank you and Mr. Simmonds : we all join together, you know, for their good." The countess and Lady Davers asked the poor lying-jn woman many questions, and left with her, and for her poor sister, a miserable object indeed !" (God be praised that I am not such an one) marks of their bounty in gold, but I saw not much ; and looking upon one another, and then upon me, and lifting up their hands, could not say a word till we were in the coach : and so we were carried home, after we had just looked in upon a country school, where I pay for the learning of eight children. And here (I hope I recite not this with pride, though I do with pleasure) is a cursory account of my benevolent weekly round, as my ladies will call it. I know you will not be displeased with it ; but it will highly delight my worthy parents, who, in their way, do a great deal of discreet good in their neighbourhood : for, indeed, Miss, a little matter, prudently bestowed, and on true objects of compassion (whose cases are soon at a crisis, as are those of most labouring people) will go a great way, and especially if laid out properly for 'em, according to the exigencies of their respective eases. For such poor people, who live generally low, want very seldom any thing but reviving cordials at first, and good wholesome kitchen physic after- wards: and then the wheels of nature, being unclogged, new oiled, as it PAMELA. 595 The Happiness of rural Life. were, and set right, they will go round again with pleasantness and ease for a good while together, by virtue of that exercise which their labour gives them ; while the rich and voluptuous are forced to undergo great fatigues to keep theirs clean and in order. TLU is well remarked in a manuscript poem in Mr. B.'s possession, written in answer to a friend, who recommended a poor man of genius to the favour of the author, in order to induce the benevolent gentleman to lift him into a higher life than that to which he was born ; and as I am sure you will be pleased with the lines, I will transcribe them for your entertainment. " Warmly, once more, this rustic's cause you press, Whom -genius dignifies, amidst distress ; All that you wish, my friendship renders dear, And weeping Industry demands a tear. Ease we his pangs, but let the means be weigh'd ; Let anguish meet him in the form of aid. Whate'er kind Help can Want's bleak waste repair, Whate'er touch'd Pity owes to chill Despair, That shall be his For he who claims your grief To mine brings title, that commands relief. Premising this, permit nje to maintain, That, wishing happiness, you purpose pain. What, though he sweat along the scorching soil, Till every aching sinew burns with toil '. Health and contempt of spleen and sleep's soft call And unobstructed spirits, balance all. Nor let fatigue, like his, presume complaint, When exercise, of choice, out-works constraint ; What length'ning furrow, turri'd with tort'ring fall, Heats like the racket, when it hunts the ball ? What lab'rer toils like him, o'er bill or dale, Who.e triumph is thenar's ear or tail ? All un-inurcd to bear, in life's weak dawn, Boy-sportsmen tire, and shame those sons of brawn. ' But shall a fire like his want room to flame. ? And what is peace to one who pants far fame ?' Bless'd in bis low born quiet, would he dare Adopt distinction, to induce despair? Would he, for envy, give up safe neglect? And hazard calumny to gain respect ? Blow up ambition's storm, to blast bis race. And scorn obscurity, to court disgrace ? R it 2 596 PAMELA. The Happiness of rural Life. True, he is poor, and so are kings no less ; , They want whate'er they wish, and not possess ; While swains, who scorn to feel by others' sense, Are rich in their own right of competence : Bread, and self-satisfied, is wealth within ; Nor call that gain, which wisdom shuns to win. From what proud root could this vain error grow, That poverty is want, ap.d rest is woe? Weigh hut let reason hold th* impartial scale, When peace is purpos'd, whit does rank avail ? Is it, to live in noise, that makes us bless'd ? Is it, to hear our flatter'd faults caress'd ? Is it, in idle ease, to yawn untaught, And fatt'ning/o%, pine the famish'd tlumght? True happiness, disdaining all extreme, Is measur'd continence and reas'ning phlegm, This, if your rustic knows, confess him great, Beyond the proudest slave that guides a state, This, if he knows not, should he empire gain, 'Twere sharpen'd appetite for strengthen'd pain. ' But wit, like his, you say, by nature grae'd To charm in cities, is in shades misplac'd.' Shines he so bright, within his rural sphere f There let him still shine out and still shine clear I Superior genius, there, may gain him weight, To polish rudeness, civilize debate, Warn the too easy heart, excite the cold; Impel the backward, and repulse the bold; Compose small jars, ere bitterness increase ; And smile the factious cottage into peace ; Wipe out each spot that fades t'he flow'ry plains, And reign, pacific father of the swains. Remote from cities peaceful Nature dwells; There exil'd Justice sits, in silent cells ; There, Truth, in naked plainness, dares be seen ; There, Pride provokes no envy Shame, no spleen ; There unsupported Worth can rev'rence draw ; And Probity disdains the help of law ; There, maids no caution need for man is just; There, love is tenderness, and friendship trust; There, infelt flushes tinge the conscious heart ; And modest semblance is not, yet, an art. PAMELA. 597 The Happiness of rnral Life. How weak a judge, dear friend, is human pride ! To loathe known good, and long for ills untry'd ; Stretching our greedy eye to distant height, The bliss beneath us lies too low for sight. Impatient thirst of povv'r but little thinks, What troubl'd waters fev'rish greatness drinks ; Nor dreams distrustless Vanity, what cares, What weights, what torments, rash distinction bears. Hence fears no awkward actor, to sustain His part of danger in those scenes of pain ; Yet out of character, mistakes his cue, And, hiss'd, unheard bawls on, and blunders through. Or, grant him safe behind some guardian skreen, Some patron's transient int'rest push'd between ; Grant that his suppliant soul can sense destroy, Can bear dependence with unfeeling joy ; Yet comes a time when all his props decay, And each dishonour'd ruin drops away. Then the bleak tott'rer shakes, in ev'ry blast; Dreads the dim future ; wishes for the past ; Finds his first loss, and, with corrected view, Envies the humble cot from which he flew. And yet, perhaps, 'twas Heav'n's commission'd plan, Tlfat passion's restless whirl should actuate man ; That pride, by envy plagu'd, should pity know ; And wealth, and joy, take birth from want and woe. Were hush'd content to stop the busy swing, The stagnant virtues all might lose their spring ; Our tideless lake of life engulf mankind, And the still mass corrupt for want of wind. Th' Almighty, then, who sees beyond our sense, Did various parts, for various minds, dispense: The meanest slave, who lives to hedge and ditch, Is useful, in his rank, to feed the rich ; The rich, in, retribution, wastes his store, And streams refreshful floods, to float the poor; Nor let the peer the peasant's lot disdain : Each link, howe'er remote, connects the chain. Both but two different marks in one great view, Extend God's landscape, and adorn it too : And both, without distinction, king and slave, At last lie levell'd, in the silent grave. R k 3 59S PAMELA. Tlie Company take an Airing This known, your choice directs my ready will, Say, shall your rustic be a rustic still ? With ease augmented, hold his safe degree ? Live and grow old in pangless poverty ? Or, should he tread the world's great wild of Hope? Despise his danger and enlarge his scope ? Choose for his wish whate'er his virtues claim : And tax my fortune or restrain his aim." I don't remember ever to have read any thing of this subject placed in these natural, easy, and I therefore think, uncommon lights, and believe you'll allow them to be right lights r for there are certainly no cases in the world that require more judgment and distinction than charitable ones. And except a casual distress among those who make a trade of begging, such persons (especially if I see them often, and so much in the same place, as if they were as tenacious of their stand, as others of their free- hold) move not my compassion or notice. They cannot be lower in spirit, nor (being frequently brought up to it) do they often wish to be higher in calling, or to change their idle state for a laborious one : but the poor industrious souls, who are reduced by sickness, or misfortune, or even mistake, not wilful, or persisted in ; who sigh in secret, and cannot make known what they suffer ; such unhappy objects are worthy of one's pains to find out, and relieve. SATURDAY MORNING. It is hardly right to trouble either of you, my honoured correspondents, with an affair that has vexed me a good deal ; and, indeed, should affect me more than any other mistress of a family, for reasons which will be obvious to you, when I tell you the ease. And this I cannot forbear doing. A pretty genteel young body, my Polly Barlow, as I call her, having been well recommended, and behaved with great prudence till this time, is the cause. My dear Mr. B. and the two young ladies agreed with me to take a little airing in the coach, and to call in upon Mr. Martin, who had a present made him for his menagerie, in which he takes a great delight, of a rare and uncommon creature, a native of the East Indies. But just as Sir Jacob was en horseback to accompany them, and the ladies were ready to go, I was taken with a sudden disorder and faintishness ; so that Lady Davers, who is very tender of me, and watches every change of my countenance, would not let me go with them, though my disorder was going off: and my dear Mr. B. was pleased to excuse me ; and just meet- > ing with Mr. Williams, as they went to the coach, they took him with PAMELA. 599 Mrs. B. discovers Mr. II.'s Intrigue with lit". Maid. them, to fill up the vacant place. So I retired to my closet, and shut myself in. < They had asked Mr. H. to go with them, for company to Sir Jacob ; but he (on purpose, as I believe by what followed) could not be found, when they set out : so they supposed he was upon some ramble with Mr. Colbrand, his great favourite. I was writing to you, being pretty well recovered, when I heard Polly, as I supposed, and as it proved, come into my apartment : and down she sat, and sung a little catch, and cried, " Hem !" twice ; and presently I heard two voices. But suspecting nothing, I wrote on, till 1 heard a kind of rustling and struggling, and Polly's voive crying, " Fie How can you do so ! Pray, Sir." t/ This alarmed me much, because we have such orderly folks about us ; and 1 looked through the keyhole; and, to my surprise and concern, saw Mr. H. foolish gentleman ! taking liberties with Polly, that neither became him to offer, nor, more foolish girl! her to suffer. And having reason to think that this was not their first interview, and freedom and the girl sometimes encouragingly laughing, as at other times, inconsis- tently, struggling and complaining, in an accent that was too tender for the occasion, I forced a faint cough. This frighted them both: Mr. II. swore, and said, " Who can that be ? Your lady's gone with them, i'n't she ?" " I believe so! I hope so!" said the silly girl " yet that was like her voice ! Me'm, are you in your closet, M>''m ?" said she, coining up to the door ; Mr. H. standing like a poor thief, hall' behind the window- curtains, till he knew whether it was I. I opened the door: away sneaked Mr. H. and she leaped with surprise, not hoping to find me there, though she asked the question. " I thought Indeed Me'm I thought you were gone out." " It is plain you did, Polly. Go and shut the chamber-door, and come to mc again." She did, but trembled, and was so full of confusion, that I pitied the poor creature, and hardly knew how to speak to her. For my compassion gottht; upper hand of my resentment ; and as she stood quaking and trem- bling, and looking on the ground with a countenance I cannot ilcsrribi , I now and then cast my eye upon her, and was as often forced to put my handkerchief to it. At last I said, " How long have these freedoms past between you and Mr. H. ? I am loath to be censorious, Polly; but it is too plain, that Mr. if. would not have followed you into my chamber, if he had not mi t yon at other places." The poor girl said never a word. " Little fohed 7 '> Burr/sK <-jV?ms?n. JSAi PAMELA. 601 concerning h- Intrigue with Mr. H. friend, and tH me all that has passed." Again she wept, and was silent. This made me more uneasy." Don't think, Polly," said I, " that I would envy any other person's preferment, when I have been so much exalted myself. If Mr. H. has talked to you of marriage, tell me." " Noj Me'm, I can't say he has yet." " Yet, Polly! Then he never will. For when men do talk of it, they don't always mean it i but whenever they mean it, how can they confirm a doubting maiden, without mentioning it : but alas for you, pooi-Polly ! The freedoms you have permitted, no doubt, previous to those I heard, and which might have been greater, bad I not surprised you with my cough, shew too well, that he need not make any promises -to you." " Indeed, Me'm" said she sobbing, " I might be too little upon my guard ; but I would not have done any ill for the world." " I hope you would not, Polly ; but if you suffer these freedoms, you can't tell what you'd have permitted Tell me, do you love Mr. H. ?" " He is very good-humoured, Madam, and is riot -proud." " No, 'tis not his business to be proud, when he' hopes to humble you humble you, indeed! beneath the lowest person of the sex, that is -honest." "I hope " " You hope!" interrupted I. "You %e too much; and I fear a great deal for you, because you fear so little for yourself But say, how often have you been in private together ?" " In private, Me'm ! I don't know what your ladyship calls private!" " Why that is private, Polly, when, as just now, you neither imagined nor intended any body should see you." She was silent; and I saw by this, poor girl, how true lovers are to their secret, though, perhaps, their ruin depends upon keeping it. But it behoved me, on many accounts, to examine this matter narrowly ; because if Mr. H. should marry her, it would have been laid upon Mr. B.'s example. And if Polly were ruined, it would be a sad thing, and people would have said, " Ay, she could take care enough of herself, but none at all of her servant : her waiting-maid had a much more, remiss mistress than Pamela found, or the matter would not have been thus." " Well, Polly, I see," continued I, " that you will not speak out to me. You may have several reasons for it, possibly, theugh not one good one. But as soon as Lady Davers comes in, who has a great concern in this matter, as well a Lord Davers, and are answerable to Lord H. in a matter of so much importance as this, I will leave it to her ladyship's considera- tion, and shall no mere concern myself to ask you questions about it For then I must take her ladyship's directions, and part with you, to be sure.* 1 The poor girl, frighted at this (for every body fears Lady Davers) wrung her hands, and begged, for God's sake, I would not acquaint Lady Davers with it. 603 PAMELA. Mrs. B. (jiic.-tioii.s her Maid " But how can I help it ? Must I not counive at yte of hand again, and to give him back his note of fifty pounds, I went down to find him. He shunned me, as a thief would a constable at the head of a hue-and- cry. As I entered one room, he went into another, looking with conscious guilt, yet confidently humming a tune. "At last I fixed him, bidding Rachel tell Polly he wanted to send a message by her to her lady. By ^hich I doubted not he was desirous to know what she had owned, in order to govern himself accordingly. His back was towards me ; and I said " Mr. H. here I am myself, to take your commands." He gave a caper half a yard high" Madam, I wanted I wanted to speak to. I would have spoken with " " You wanted to send Polly to me, perhaps, Mr. II. to ask if I would take a little walk with you in the garden." " Very true, Madam ! Very true indeed ! You have guessed the mat- ter. I thought it was pity, this fine day, as every body was taking airings " " Well then, Sir, please to lead the way, and I'll attend you." " Yet I fancy, Madam, the wind is a little too high for you. Won't you catch cold ?" " No, never fear, Mr. H. 1 am not afraid of a little air. " I will attend you presently, Madam : you'll be in the great gravel walk, or on the terrace-^I'll wait upon you in an instant." I had the courage to take hold of his arm, as if I had liked to have slipt. For, thought I, thou shalt not see the girl till I have talked to thee PAMELA. 60S for his Intrigue with her Maid. a little, if thou dost then. " Excuse me, Mr. H. I hope I have not hurt my foot. I must lean upon you." '.' Will you be pleased, Madam, to have a chair ? I fear you have sprained your foot. Shall I help you to a chair." * No, no, Sir, I shall walk it off, if I hold by you." So he had no excuse to leave me, and we proceeded into the garden. But never did any thing look so like a. foolish fellow, as his aunt calls him. He looked, if possible, half a dozen ways at once, hem m'd, coughed, turned his head behind him every now and then, startled half a dozen silly sub- jects, in hopes to hinder me from speaking. I appeared, I believe, under some concern how to begin with him ; for he would have it I was not very well, and begged he might step in one minute to desire Mrs. Jervis to attend me. * So I resolved to begin with him ; lest I should lose the opportunity, seeing my eel so very slippery. And placing myself on a seat, asked him to sit down. He declined, and would wait upon me presently, he said, and seemed going. So I began " It is easy for me, Mr. II. to penetrate into the reason why you are so willing to leave me : but 'tis for your own sake, that I desire you to hear me, that no mischief may ensue among friends and relations, on an occasion to which you are no stranger." " Laud, Madam, what can you mean ? Surely, Madam, you don't think amiss of a little innocent liberty, or so !" " Mr. H." replied I, " I want not any evidence of your inhospitable designs upon a poor unwary young creature, whom your birth and quality have found it too easy a task to influence." " Inhospitable designs ! Madam '. A harsh word, by gad. You very nice ladies cannot admit of the least freedom in the world ! Why, Madam, I have kissed a lady's woman before now, in a civil way or so, and never was called to an account for it, as a breach of hospitality." *' 'Tis not for me, Mr. H. to proceed to very nice particulars with a gentleman who can act as you have done, by a poor girl, that dare not have looked up to a man of your quality, bad you not levelled all distinc- tion between you in order to level the weak creature to the common dirt of the highway. I must say, that the poor girl heartily repents of her folly; and, to shew you, that it signifies nothing to deny it, she begs you will return the note of her hand you extorted from her foolishness ; and I hope you'll be so much of a gentleman, as not to keep in your power such a testimony of the weakness of any of the sex." " Has she told you that, Madam ? Why, may be indeed I can't but say Truly, it mayn't look so well to you, Madam : but young folks will have frolics. It was nothing but a frolic. Let me be hanged, if it was !" " B". pleased then, Sir, to give up her note to me, to return to bar. 606 PAMELA. ' " ^ ~ Mrs. B. reproves Mr. II. Reputation should not be frolicked with, Sir; especially that of a poor girl, who has nothing else to depend uppn." " I'll give it to her myself, if you please, Madam, and laugh at her into the bargain. Why, 'tis comical enough, if the little pug thought I was earnest, I must have a laugh or two at her, Madam, when 1 ^ive it her up." " Since 'tis but a frolic, Mr. H~. you won't take it amiss, that when we are set down to supper, we call Polly in, and demand a sight of her note, and that will make every one merry as well as you." " Not so, Madam, that mayn't be so well neither ! For, perhaps, they will be apt to think it is in earnest ; when, as I hope to live, 'tis but a jest : nothing in the world else, upon honuur !" I put on then a still more serious air " As you hope to live, say you, Mr. H. I and upon your honour ! How ! fear you not an instant punish- ment for this appeal ? And what is the honour you swear by ? Take that, and answer me, Sir : do gentlemen give away bank-notes for frolics, and for mere jests, and nothing- in the world else ! I am sorry to be obliged to deal thus with you. But I thought I was talking to a gentleman who would not forfeit his veracity ; and that in so solemn an instance as this'." He looked like a man thunderstruck. His face was distorted, and his head seemed to turn about upon his neck like a weathercock in a hurri- cane, to all points of the compass ; his hands clenched as in a passion, and yet shame and confusion struggling in every tiinb and feature. At last he said, " I am confoundedly betrayed. But if I am exposed to my uncle and aunt" (for the wretch thought of nobody but himself) " I am undone, and shall never be able to look them in the face. "Tis true, I had a design upon her; and since she has betrayed me, I think I may say, that she was as willing, almost, as I." " Ungenerous, contemptible wretch," thought I " But such of our sex as can thus give up their virtue, ought to expect no better i for he that sticks not at one bad action, will not scruple another to vindicate himself: and so, devil like, become the attempter and the accuser too 1" " But if you will be so good," said he, with hands uplifted, " as to take no notice of this to my ui*cle, and especially to my aunt and Mr. B. I swear to you, I never will think of her as long as I live." " And you'll bind this promise, will you, Sir, by your honour, and as you hope to live 2" " Dear, good Madam, forgive me, I beseech you ; don't be so severe upon me. By all that's " i " Don't swear, Mr. H. But as an earnest that I may believe you, give me back the girl's foolish note, that, though 'tis of no signification, she may not have that to witness her folly." -He took out his pocket- book : " There it is, Madam ! And I beg you'll forgive this attempt : I PAMELA. 607 for his Intrigue with her Maid. -'"'-" - see I ought not to have made it. I doubt it was a breach of the laws of hospitality, as you say. But to make it known, will only expose me, and it can do no good ; and Mr. B. will perhaps resent it ; and my aunt will never let me hear the last of it, nor my uncle neither And I shall be sent to travel again And (added the poor creature) I was ooce in a storm, and the crossing the sea again would be death to me." " What a wretch art thou !" thought I. " What could such an one as thou find to say to a poor creature that, if put in the scale against consi- derations of virtue, should make the latter kiak the beam ? Poor, poor Polly Barlow ! thou art sunk indeed ! Too low for excuse, and almost beneath pity !" I told him, if I could observe that nothing passed between them, that should lay me under a necessity of revealing the matter, I should not be forward to expose him, nor the maiden either : but that he must, in his own judgment, excuse me, if I made every body acquainted with it, if I were to see the correspondence between them likely to be renewed or carried on : " For," added I, " in that case I should owe it to myself, to Mr. B. to Lord and Lady Davers, and to you, and the unhappy body too, to do so. He would needs drop down on one knee, to promise this ; and with a thousand acknowledgments left me to find Mr. Colbrand, in order to ride to meet the coach on its return. I went in, and gave the foolish note to the silly girl, which she received eagerly, and immediately burnt ; and I told her, I would not suffer her to come near me but as little as possible, when I was in company, while Mr. H. staid ; but consigned her entirely to the care of Mrs. Jervis, to whom only, I said, I would hint the matter as tenderly as I could : and for this, I added, I had more reasons than one ; first, to give her the benefit of a good gentlewoman's advice to which I had myself formerly been beholden, and from whom I concealed nothing; next, to keep out of Mr. H.'s way; and, lastly, that I might have an opportunity, from Mrs. Jervis's opinion,, to judge of the sincerity of her repentance: " For, Polly," said I, "you must imagine, so regular and uniform as all our family is, and so good as 1 thought all the people about me were, that I could not suspect, that she, the duties of whose place made her nearest to my person, was the farthest from what I wished." I have set this matter so strongly before her, and Mrs. Jervis has so well seconded me, that I hope the best ; for the grief the poor creature carries in her looks, and expresses in her words, cannot be described ; frequently accusing herself, with tears, saying often to Mrs. Jervis, she is not worthy to stand in the presence of her mistress, whose example she has made so bad an use of, and whose lessons she had so ill followed. 608 PAMELA. Comply dine at Mr. B.'s. I am sadly troubled at this matter, however ; but I take great comfort in reflecting, that my sudden indisposition looked like a providential thing, which may save one poor soul, and be a seasonable warning to her, as long as she lives. Mean time I must observe, that at supper last night Mr. H. looked abject and mean, and like a poor thief, as I thought ; and conscious of his disappointed folly (though- 1 seldom glanced my eye upon him) had les6 to say for himself than ever. And once my Lady Davers, laughing, said, " I think in my heart, my nephew looks more foolish every time I see him than the last. He stole a look at me, and blushed ; and my lord said, " Jackey has some grace ! He blushes ! Hold up thy head, nephew ! Hast thou nothing at all to say for thyself?" Sir Jacob said, " A blush becomes a young gentleman '. I never saw one before though, in Mr. H. What's the matter, Sir i" " Only," said Lady Davers, " his skin or his conscience is mended, that's all." " Thank you, Madam," was all he said, bowing to his aunt, and affect- ing a careless, yet confused air, as if he whispered a whistle. " O wretch !" thought I, " see what it is to have a condemning conscience ; while every innocent person looks round easy, smiling, and erect !" But yet it was not the shame of a bad action I doubt, but being discovered and disap- pointed, that gave him this confusion of face. What a sad thing for a person to be guilty of such actions, as shall put it in the power of another, even by a look, to mortify him ! And if poor souls can be thus abjectly struck at such a discovery by a fellow-creature, how must they appear before an unerring and omniscient Judge, with a conscience standing in the place of a thousand witnesses ? and calling in vain upon the mountains to fall upon them, and the hills to cover them ! How serious this subject makes one ! SATURDAY EVENING. I am just retired from a fatiguing service ; for who should come to dine with Mr. B. but that sad rake Sir Charles Hargrave ; and Mr. Walgrave, Mr. Sedley, and Mr. Floyd, three as bad as himself; inseparable compa- nions, whose whole delight is drinking, hunting, and lewdness ; but other- wise gentlemen of wit and large estates. Three of them broke in upon us at the hall, on the happiest day of my life, to our great regret ; and they had been long threatening to make this visit, in order to see me, as they told Mr. B. They whipt out two bottles of Champagne instantly, for a whet, as they called it ; and went to view the stud and the kennel, and then walked in PAMELA. doo , -r-k. - . , i = Conversation of Ihe Company. - the garden till dinner was ready ; my Lord Davers, Mr. H. and Sir Jacob as well as Mr. B. (for they are all acquainted) accompanying them. Sir Charles, it seems, as Lord Davers told me afterwards, said, he longed to see Mrs. B. She was the talk wherever he went, and he had conceived a high opinion of her beforehand. Lord Davers said, " I defy you, gentlemen, to think so highly of her as she deserves, take mind and person together." Mr. Floyd said, he never saw any woman yet, who came up to what be expected, where fame had been lavish in her praise. " But how, brother baronet," said Sir Charles to Sir Jacob, " came you to be reconciled to her ? I beard that you would never own her." " Oons man !" said Sir Jacob, " I was taken in I was, by my soul ! They contrived to clap her upon me as Lady Jenny C. and pretended they'd keep t'other out of my sight ; and I was plaguily bit, and forced to get off as well as I could." " That was a bite indeed," said Mr. Walgrave ; " and so you fell a praising Lady Jenny, I warrant, to the skies." " Ye s, by my soul" (drawling out the affirmative monosyllable) " I was used most scurvily: faith I was. I bear 'em a grudge for it still, I can tell 'em that ; for I have hardly been able to hold up my head like a man since but am forced to go and come and to do as they bid me. By my troth, I never was so manageable in my life." " Your Herefordshire neighbour?, Sir Jacob," said Mr. Sedley with an oath, " will rejoice to hear this ; for the whole county there cannot manage you." " I am quite cow'd now, by my soul, as you will see by-and-by ; nay, for that matter, if you can set Mrs. B. a talking, not one of you all will care to open your lips, except to say as she says." " Never fear, old boy," said Sir Charles, " we'll bear our parts in con- versation. I never saw the woman yet who could ive me either awe or love for six minutes together. What think you, Mr. B. ? Have you any notion, that your lady will have so much power over us '{" " I think, Sir Charles, I have one of the fiix'st women in England ; but I neither expect nor desire you rakes should see her with my eyes." " You know, if 1 have a mind to love her, and make court to her too, Mr. B. I will : and 1 am half in love with her already, although I have i.ot 9een her." They came in wlen dinner was near ready, and the four gentlemen took each a large bumper of old hock for another whet. The countess, Lady Davers, and 1, came down together. The gentlemen knew our two noble ladies, and were known to them in person, as well as by character. Mr. B. in his usual kind and encouraging manper, took b 20 s s 610 PAMELA. Cirflvorsat' n o'" the Company. my hand, and presented the four gentlemen to me, each by his name. Sir Charles said, pretty bluntly, that he hoped he was more .welcome to roe now than the last time he was under the same roof with me ; for he had heen told since, that that was our happy day." I said, Mr. B.'s friends were always welcome to me. " 'Tis well, Madam," said Mr. Stdley, " we did not know how it was. We should have quartered ourselves upon Mr. B. for a week together, arid kept him up day and night." I thought thi9 speech deserved no answer, especially as they were gen- tlemen who wanted no countenance, and addressed myself to LordDavers, who is always kindly making court to me : " I hope, my good lord, you find yourself quite recovered of your headach ?" (of which he complained at breakfast.) " I thank you, my dear sister, pretty well." " I was telling Sir Charles and the other gentlemen, niece," said Sir Jacob, " how I was cheated here, when I came first, with a Lady Jenny." " It was a very lucky cheat for me, Sir Jacob ; for it gave you a prepos- session in my favour under so advantageous a character, that I could never have expected otherwise." " I wish," said the countess, " my daughter, for whom Sir Jacob took you, had Mrs. B.'s qualities to boast of." " How am I obliged to your ladyship's goodness," returned I, " when you treat me with even greater indulgence than you use to so beloved a daughter !" " Nay, now you talk of treating," said Sir Charles, " when, ladies, will you treat our sex with the politeness which you shew to one another?" " When your sex deserve it, Sir Charles," answered Lady Davers. " Who is to be judge of that ?" said Mr. Walgrave. " Not the gentlemen, I hope," replied my lady. ake cff. But I beleefe we should have been better acquainted, hadd you nott, luckily for mee ! prevented itt, by being at home, when we thought you abroad. For I was to come to her when shee hemm'd two or thret limes; for having made a contract, you knowe, Madam, it was naturall enough to take the first occasion to putt itt in force. " She could not keepe her owne secritt, and may have tolde you mope, perhapps, then is true. So what 1 write is to cleare myself e ; and to say how sorry I am, in suoh a good house as youres, and where there is so much true godliness, ever to be drawne away to have a tboughte to dishonour itt. But I will not be over-familiar for the future with underlings, for, see how a man may be taken in ! If shee hadd resented itt att first, when I begun to ktsse her, or soe (for you knowe, wee younge fellows will take liberties some times where they don't become us, to our own disparage- ments chiefly, that's true) I should have hadd an awe upon me ; or if shee had told you, or butt said she woulde, I should hA\efnwne, as soone as had any thoughtes further aboute tlie matter. But what had one of our sexe to do, you knowe, Midam, when they find littel resistance, and that shee would stand quietly, and tell no tales, and make no great struggell, and not keepe out of one's way neither, butt to dilly-dally on till one brought itt to more than one at first intended ? " Poor Polley ! I pity her too. Don't think the worse of her, deare Madam, so as too turn her away, because it may bee her ruin. I don't desire to see her. I might have been drawne in to do strange foolish things, and been ruin'd at the long run ; for who knows where this thing mought have ended? My unkell woulde have never seene me. My father too (bis lordshipp, you have hearde, Madam, is a vary crosse mam, and never PAMELA. 617 Mr. i'.'s Letter to Mrs. b. loved me muck) mought have cutt oft' the intaile. My aunte would have despis'd mee and scorn'd mee. I should have been her foolishe fellowe in earnesie, iiott in jeste, as now. You would have resented itt, and Mr. B. (who knowes ?) mought have called me to account (for he is very passion- ate, I saw thatt att the hall, and has fought two or three duells, as 1 have "hearde) for abusing the freedom e of his house, and breakeiug the laws of hospitallity, as you tolde mee ; and so, it is not unlikely, I mighte have dy'd like a dogge i?> a ditche ; and there would have been an ende of a noble family, tint have been peeres of the realme time out of mind. What a sadd thing would this have been ! A publicke as well as private losse : for you knowe, Madam, what my lady countess said, and nobody says better thinges, or knowes more of the matter, than her ladyshippe, That everv peere of the realme is a jewell in the crowne. A fine saying ! God grante I may keep it in minde, when my time comes, and my father shall happen to die I " Well, butt cadn you forgive me ? You see how happy I am in my disappointment. But I must take another sheete of paper. I did nott think too write so much ; for I don't love it : but on this occasion, know not how too leave off. I hope you can read my letter. I know I write a clumsy hand, and spelle most lamentabelly ; for I never had a tallent for these things. I was readier by half to admire the orcherd robbing picture in Lillie's grammar, then any other part of the book : excuse my nonsense, Madam : but many a time have 1 help'd to fill a sachil ; and supposed that picture putt there on purpose to tell boys whatt diversions are a lowed them, and are propper for them. Several of my schoole-fellows tooke it for granted, as well as 1, and we coulde never reconcile itt to oure reason, why we should bee punished for practising a lesson taughte us by our grammers. " But, hey, whether am I running'. 1 never writt to you before, and never may again, unlesse you, or Mr. B. command it, for your service. So pray excuse me, Madam. " I knowe I neede give no advise to Polley, to take care of first encou- ragements. Poore girl! she mought have suffer' d sadly, as welle as I. For iff my father, and my unkell and aunte, had reuuir'd mee to turne her off, you know itt woulde have been undutifull to have refused them, not- withstanding our bargaine. Ami w.uit of duty to tbem woulde have been, to have added faultu too faulte : as you once observed, I remember, that one faulte never conies alone, but drawe9 after itt generally five or six, to hide or vindicate itt, and they every one perhapps as many more cache. " I shall never forgett severall of youre wise s-ayinges. I have been vex'd, may I be hang'd if I have not, many a time, thatt I coulde not make such observations as you make ; who am so much older too, and a 618 PAMELA. *i ' - Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr, U. Man besides, and a peere's son, and a peere's nephew ! but my tallents lie another- way ; and by that time my father dies, I hope to improve myselfe, in order to cult such a figure, as may make me be no disgrase to my name or countrey ; for I shall have one benefit over many younge lordes ; thatt I shall be more fond of making observations then speeches, and so shall improve of course, you knowe. " Well, but whatt is all this to the purpose ! I will keep close to my text ; and that is, to thank you, good Madam, for all the favours I have received in your house; to thank you for disappointing mee, and for convincing mee, in so kinde, yet so shameing a manner, how wrong I was in the matter of that there Polly ; and for not exposing my folly to any boddy but myselfe (for I should have been ready to hang myselfe, if you hadd) and to begg youre pardon for itt, assuring you, that 1 will never offerr the like as long as 1 breathe. I am, Madam, with the greatest respecte, youre moste obliged, moste faithful, and most obedient humbell servante, J. H. " Pray excuse blotts and blurrs." Well, Miss Darnford, what shall we say to this fine letter ? You'll allow it to be an original, 1 hope. Yet, maybe not. For it may be as wU written, and as sensible a letter as this class of people generally write ! But what then caji we say for such poor creatures of our sex as are taken in, as Mr. H. calls it, by such pretty fellows as this : who, if they write better, hardly think better, or design to act better, and are not so soon brought to re- pentance, and promises of amendment ? Mr. H. dresses well, is .not a contemptible figure of a man, laughs, talks, where he can be heard, and his aunt is not present ; and cuts, to use bis own word, a considerable figure in a country town But see Yet I will not say what I might He is Lord Davers's nephew ; and if he makes his observations, and forbears his speeches (I mean, can be silent, and only lau^h when he sees somebody of more sense laugh, and never approve or condemn but in leading-strings) he may possibly pass in a crowd of gentlemen. But poor, poor Polly Barlow ! What can I say for Polly Barlow ? I have a time in view, when my papers may fall under the inspection of a dear gentleman, to whom, next to God, I am accountable for all my actions and correspondences ; so 1 will either write an account of the matter, and seal it up separately, for Mr. B. or at a fit opportunity break it to him, and let him know (under secrecy, if he will promise it) the steps I took in it ; lest something arise hereafter, when I cannot answer for myself, to render any thing dark or questionable in it. A method I believe very proper to be taken by every married lady ; and I presume the rather to say so, having had a good example for it ; for I have often PAMELA. 619 Affectionate }' Letter from Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. how can one help it ? And if I may not hope for the indulgent soothings of the best of parents, and of my Miss Darnford, in whose bosom besides can one disburden one's heart, when oppressed by too great a weight of thought. You will come, and be in the house with me, my dear mother, for some time, when my best friend sends to you : wont you ? And you will spare my dear mother, my best of fathers : won't you ? Yes, yes, I> am sure you will And I am sure my Miss Darnford will be with me, if she can : and these are my comforts. But how I run on ! For I am so much a novice, that But I will say no more, than that I am, my honoured father and mother, your ever dutiful daughter ; and, my dear Miss Darnforil, your affectionate *nd obliged P. B. LETTER XXXVII. . From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. MY DEAR MRS. B. WE arc greatly obliged to you for every particular article in your enter- taining journal, which you have brought, sooner than we wished, to t conclusion. We cannot express how much we admire you for your judicious charities, so easy to be practised, yet so uncommon in the manner ; and for your inimitable conduct in the affair of your frail Tolly and tho silly Mr. H. Your account of the visit of the four rakes ; of your parting with your noble guests; your verses, and Mr. H.'s letter (an original indeed^) have all greatly entertained us, as your prerogative hints have amused us : but we defer our opinion of those hint*,, till we have the ease more fully explained. But, my dear friend, are you not in dahger of falling into a too thought- ful and gloomy way? By the latter part uf your last letter, we are afraid you are; and my mamma, and Mrs. Jones, and Mrs. Peters, enjoin me to write, to caution you on that head. But there is the loss need of it, because your prudence will always suggest to you reasons, as it docs in that very letter, that must out balance your fears. Think Jittle, and hope much, is a good lesson in your ca-c, and to a lady of your temper; and I hope Lady Pavers will not in vain have given you that caution. After all, I dare say your thoughtfulness is but symptomatica!, and will go o(F m proper time. Meantime, permit me to choose yon a subject, that will certainly divert you. You must know, that I have been a diligent observer of the conduct of people in the married life to each other ; and have often pronounced, that there cannot be any tolerable happiness in it, unless the otie or the other makes such sacrifices of tin ir inclinations and humours as renders it u i\ r i 626 PAMELA. Miss Darnford wishes to know the Sincerity a state very little desirable to free and generous minds. Of this I see an instance in our own family ; for though my papa and mamma live very happily, it is all owing to one side, I need not say which. And this, I am sure,*must be the case between Mr. B. and you : for you must, even through fire, if required, sacrifice to Moloch. I know your prudence will oblige you to make the best of it ; and, like a contented good wife, you will say, you have your own will in everything: a good 'reason why, because you make your own will his This, long ago, we all agreed, any lady must do, be her quality ever so great, who would be happy with Mr. B. Yet my sister once hoped [entre nous) to be the person. Finework would there have been between two such spirits, you may believe. But to wave this : let me ask you, Mrs. B. is his conduct to you as respectful, I don't mean fond, when you are alone together, as in com- pany ? Forgive me But you have hinted two or three times, in your letters, that he is always most complaisant to you in company ; and you observe, that wisely does he act in this, as he thereby does credit with every body to his own choice. I make no doubt, that the many charming scenes which your genius and fine behaviour furnish out to him, must, as often as they happen, inspire him with joy, and even rapture : and must make him love you more for your mind than for your person : but these rapturous scenes last very little longer than the present moment. What I want to know is, Whether in the steadier parts of life, when you are both nearer the level of us common folks, be gives up any thing of his own will in compliment to yours ? Whether he acts the part of a respect- ful, polite gentleman, in his behaviour to you ; and breaks not into your retirements, in the dress, and with the brutal roughness of a fox-hunter ?- Making no difference, perhaps, between the field or his stud (I will not sa)r kennel) and your chamber or closet ? Policy, for his own credit-sake, as I mentioned, accounts to me well for his complaisance to you in public. But bis regular and uniform behaviour to you, in your retirement, when the conversation between you turns upon usual and common subjects, and you have not obliged him to rise to admiration' of you, by such scenes as those of your two parsons, Sir Jacob Swynford, and the like : or what would satisfy my curiosity, if you please to give me an instance or two of it. Now, my dearest Mrs. B. if you can give me a case, partly or nearly thus circumstanced, you will highly oblige me : First, where he has borne with any infirmity of your own ; and I know of none where you can give him such an opportunity, except you get into a vapourish habit, by giving way to a temper too thoughtful and appre- hensive : Next, that, in complaisance to your will, he recedes from his own in any one instance : PAMELA. 627 of Mr. B.'s Alieclion for Mrs. B. Next, whether he breaks not into your retirements unceremoniously, and without apology or concern, as I hinted above. You know, my dear Mrs. B. all I mean, by what I have said ; and if you have any pretty conversation in memory, by the recital of which this my bold curiosity may be answered, pray oblige me with it; and we shall be able to judge by it, not only of the inborn generosity which all that know Mr. B. have been willing to attribute to him, but of the likelihood of the continuance of both your felicities, upon terms suitable to the characters of a fine lady and fine gentleman ; and, of consequence, worthy of the imitation of the most delicate of our own sex. This is the task your Polly Darnford presumes to set her beloved Mrs. B. And why ? For your own diversion in the first place. For my edification, ui the next. And that when 1 attend you in London I may see what there is in the conduct of you both to admire, or remonstrate against, in the third. For, where there is so little wanting to perfection between you, I shall be very free with you both, in my censures, if he imposes, through prerogative, or you permit, through an undue compliance, what I shall imagine ought not to be in either case. I know you will excuse me for what I have said ; and well you may, since I am sure I shall have nothing 1odo, when I am with you, but to admire and to imitate you; and to wish, if ever I marry, I may have just such a husband f though not quite so haughty, perhaps) as Mr. B. But, pray, let not the lordly man see this letter, nor your answer, nor a copy of it, till you may conclude I have the hitter, if then, that you may not be under any undue influences. Your obliged longings, my beloved dear lady, for my company, I hope, will very soon be answered. My papa was so pleased with your sweet earnestness on this occasion, that he joined with my mamma ; and both, with equal cheerfulness, said, you should not be many days in London before me. Murray and his mistress go on swimmingly, and have not yet bad one quarrel. The only person, he, of either sex, that ever knew Nancy so intimately, and so long, without one ! This is all I have to say, at present, when I have assured you, my dear Mrs. B. how much I am your obliged and affectionate Pou.Y Daknfoku. I must add, however, that I expect from you almost as many letters as there are post-days between this and the time I see you ; for I will not prut with my correspondent for any body ; no, not for Lady Davers. But I must insist upon your giving me the conversation with the young lddios related to Lady Towers and Mrs. Arthur. I will observe every thing you say in relation to Mri, Jewkes, who ii much as she was ; hut not belt' r. 628 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Danifonl, LETTER XXXV1J1. MY DEAKF.ST MISS DARNFORD, I WAS afraid I ended my last letter in a gloomy way ; and I am obliged to you for the kind and friendly notice you take of it. Ifwas owing to a train of thinking which sometimes I get into, of late ; I hope only symp- tomatieally, as you say, and that the cause and effect will soon vanish together. ' ' Eat what a task, my dear friend, I'll warrant, you think you have set me ! I thought, in the progress of my journal, and in my letters, I had given so many instances of Mr. B.'s polite tenderness to me, that no new ones would be required at my hand? ; and when I said he was always most complaisant before company, I little expected, that such an inference would be drawn from my words, as would tend to question the uniformity of his behaviour to me, when there were no witnesses to it. But I aia glad of an opportunity to clear up all your doubts on this subject. To begin then : You first desire an instance, where Mr. B. has borne with some infirmity of mine : Next, that in complaisance to my will, he has receded from his own : And lastly, whether he breaks not into my retirements unceremoniously, and without apology or concern, making no difference between the field or the stud, and my chamber or closet ? I know not, my dear, what the distance is at which the polite ladies, and those of rank, think it proper to endeavour to keep their husbands ; but I will give you by-and-by the subject of -one conversation only, which will answer all you mean, as I apprehend, and at the same time acquaint you with the notions and behaviour of us both, with respect to this distance, and my retirements ; and then leave you to judge as you think fit. As to the first, his bearing with my infirmities ; he is daily giving in- stances of his goodness to me on this head ; and I am ashamed to say, that of late I give him so much occasion for them as I do ; but he sees my apprehensiveness, at times, though I endeavour to conceal it; and no husband was ever so soothing and so indulgent as Mr. B. He gives me the best advice, as to my malady^if I may call it one : treats me with redoubled tenderness : talks to me upon the subjects I most delight to dwell upon : as of my worthy parents ; what they are doing at this time, and at that ; of our intended journey to London ; of the diversions- of the town ; of Miss Darnford's company ; and when he goes abroad, sends up my good Mrs. Jervis to me, because I should not be alone ; at other times, takes me abroad with him ; brings this neighbour and that neighbour t visit , and carries me to visit them ; talks of our journey to Kent, and into Lincolnshire, and to my Lady Daveio's, to Bath, to Tunbiidge, and I can't PAMELA. C29 containing Proofs of Mr. B.'s sincere Affection. , tell whither, when the apprehended time shall be over. In fine, my clear Miss Darnford, you cannot imagine one half of his tender goodness and politeness to me ! then, as to what you call respectful, he watches every motion of my eye, every turn of my countenance ; seldom gives his opinion upon subjects that he kindly imagines within my capacity, till he has heard mine ; and I have the less fear of falling into mean compliances, because his generosity is my guardian, and never fails to exalt me more than, I can debase myself, or than it is possible 1 can deserve. Then he hardly ever goes to any distance, but brings some pretty present he thinks will be grateful to me. When at home, he is seldom out of my company ; delights to teach me French and Italian, and reads me pieces of manuscript poetrv, in several of the modern tongues (for he speaks them all) explains to ma every thing I understand not ; delights to answer all my questions, and to encourage my inquisitiveness and curiosity, tri^s to give me a notion of pictures and medals, and reads me lectures upon them, for he has a fine collection of both ; and every now and then will have it, that he has been improved by my questions and observations. What say you to these things, my dear ? Do they come up to your first question ? or do they not ? Or is not what I hive said, a full answer, were I to say no more, to all your enquiries ? Can there be any such thing as undue compliances to such a husband, on my side, think you ? And when I have charmed to sleep, by my grateful duty, that watchful dragon Prerogative, as Lady Davers, in one of her letters, calls it ; and am re- solved not to awake it, if I can help it, by the least disobliging o.- wilfully perverse act, what" have I to apprehend from it ? O my dear, I am thoroughly convinced, that half the misunderstandings, among married people are owing to trifles, to petty distinctions, to mem words, and little captious follies, to overwecnings, or ungu.irded petu- lances : and who would forego the solid satisfaction of life, for the sake of triumphing in such poor contentions, if one could triumph .' Are such foibles as these to be dignified by the name of inclinations and humours, which, to be given up, would be making such a sacrifice, as shall render the married life little desirable to free and generous minds? But say not, my dear, UiJ'ree and generous minds; for every high spirit deserves not these epithets : nor think what I "-ay, a partiality in behall of my own conduct, and an argument for lameness of spirit, and such an one as would liek the dust ; for, let me tell you, mj dear friend, thai dearly as. I love and honour Mr. B. if he were' to require of trie any thin.; that I thought il was my duty not to comply with, I should be the null ippiest creature in the world ; because F am sure 1 should withstand bis will, aud desire him to excus'; my non-compliance. But then I would reserve my strength for thu>e gicuUi points, a::d i t J 630 PAMELA. Proofs of Mr. B.'s sinccrc~Affcctiou. would never dispute with him the smaller, though not entirely to my liking . and this would give both force and merit to the opposition, when Tfoiind it necessary : but to contest every little point, when nothing but one's stubborn will was in the question, what an inexcusable perverseness would that be ! How ready to enter the lists against a husband, one should appear to him ! And where, besides, is the merit of obliging, were we only to yield to what will oblige ourselves ? But you next require of mean instance, where, in complaisance to my will, he has receded from Am own? I don't know what to say to this. "When Mr. B. is all tenderness and indulgence, and requires of me nothing, that I can have a material objection to, ought I not to oblige him ? Can I have a will that is not his ? Or would it be excusable if I had? All little matters I cheerfully give up : great ones have not yet occurred between us, and I hope never will. One point, indeed, I have some apprehension may happen ; and that, to be plain with you, is, we have had a debate or two on the subject (which I maintain) of a mother's duty to nurse her own child : and I am sorry to say it, he seems more determined than I wish he were, against it. I hope it will not proceed so far as to awaken the sleeping dragon I mentioned, Prerogative by name ; but I doubt 1 cannot give up this point very contentedly. But as to lesser points, had I been a duchess born, I think I would not have contested them with my husband. i Upon the whole of this question then, I have really had no will of my own to contend for, so generous is Mr. B. and so observant and grateful have I thought it my duty to be ; yet I could give you many respectful instances too, of his receding, when he has desired to see what I have been writing, and I have told him to whom, and begged to be excused. One snch instance I can give since I began this letter. This is it : I put it in my bosom, when he came up : he saw me do so. " Are you writing, mj dear, what I must not see ?" " I am writing to Miss Darnford, Sir; and she begged you might not at present." " Thi^ augments my curiosity, Pamela. What can two such ladies write, that I may not see ?" " If you won't be displeased, Sir, I had rather you would not, because she desires you may not see her letter, nor this my answer, till the letter is in her hands." " Then 1 will not," returned Mr. B. Will this instance, my dear, come up to your demand for one, where he recedes from his own will, in complaisance to mine ? But now, as to what both our notions and our practice are on the article of my retirements, and whether he breaks in upon them unceremoniously, PAMELA. 631 Proofs of Mr. B.'s sincere Atfeclion. and without apology, let the conversation I promised inform you, which began on the following occasion : Mr. B. rode out early one morning, within a few days past, and did not return till the afternoon ; an absence I had not been used to of late ; and breakfasting and dining without him being also a new thing with me, I had such an impatience to see him, having expected him at dinner, that I was forced to retire to my closet, to try to divert it, by writing ; and the gloomy conclusion of my last was then the subject. He returned about four o'clock, and indeed did not tarry to -change his riding-dress, as your politeness, my dear friend, would perhaps have expected ; but came directly up to me, with an impatience to see me, equal to my own, when he Was told, upon enquiry, that I was in my closet. I heard his welcome step, as he came up stairs ; which generally, after a longer absence than I expect, has such an effect upon my fond heart, that it gives a responsive throb for every step he takes towards me, and beats quicker and faster, as he comes nearer, till tapping my breast I say to it sometimes. " Lie still, busy fool as thou art! Canst thou not forbear letting thy discerning lord see thy nonsensical emotions ? I love to indulge thee in them, myself, 'tis true, but then let nobody else observe them ; for, generous as thy master is, thou mayest not perhaps meet with such favourable interpretations as th >u deservest when thou art always fluttering thus, as he approaches, and playest off all thy little joyful frolics into the glowing cheek, and brightened eye of thy mistress, which makes her look as if she were conscious of some misdemeanor ; when, all the time, it is nothing in the world but grateful joy, and a love so innocent, that the purest mind might own it." This littler flutter and chiding of the busy simpleton, made me meet him, but at the closet-door, instead at the entrance of my chamber, as sometimes I do. " So, my dear love, how do you ?" folding his kind arms about me, and saluting me with ardour. " Whenever I have been but a few hours from yon, my impatience to see my beloved, will not permit me to stand upon the formality of a message to know how you are engaged ; but I break in upon you, even in my riding-dress, as you see." " Dear Sir, you arc very obliging. Hut I have no notion of mere for- malities of this kind" (How impolite this, my dear friend) " in a married state, since 'tis impossible a virtuous wife can be employed about any thing that her husband may not know, and so need not fear surprises." " I am glad to bear you say this, my Pamela ; for J have always thought the extraordinary civilities and distances of this kind which I have observed among several p( rsotu of rank, altogether unaccountable. I'or if they are exacted by the lady, 1 should suspect she bad reserves, which she herself believed I could not approve. If not exacted, but practised of i T 4 63<2 PAMELA. rroofs of Mr. Ji.'s sincere Alkction. choice by the gentleman, it carries with it, in my opinion, a false air of politeness, little less than afFrontive to the lady, and dishonourable to him- self ; for Joes it not look as if he supposed, and allowed, that she might be so employed that it was necessary to apprise her of his visit, lest he should make discoveries not to her credit or his own ?" "One would not, Sir" (for I thought his conclusion too severe) " make such a harsh supposition as this neither : for there are little delicacies and moments of retirement, no doubt, in which a modest lady would wish to he indulged by the tenderest husband." " It may be so in an early matrimony, before the lady's confidence in the honour and discretion of the man she has chosen has disengaged her from her bridal reserves." " Bridal reserves, dear Sir ! permit me to give it as my humble opinion, that a wife's behaviour ought to be as pure and circumspect, in degree, as that of a bride, or even of a maiden lady, be her confidence in her husband's honour and discretion ever so great. For, indeed, I think a gross 6t a careless demeanor little becomes that modesty which is the peculiar excel- lency and distinction of our sex." , " You account very well, my dear, by what you now say for your own over nice behaviour, as I have sometimes thought it. But are we not all apt to argue for a practice we make our own, because we do make it our own, rather than from the reason of the thing ?" x " 1 hope, Sir, that is not the present case with me ; for, permit me to say, that an over free or negligent behaviour of a lady in the married state, must be a mark of disrespect to her consort, and would shew as if she was very little solicitous about what appearance she made in his eye. And must not this beget in him a slight opinion of her sex too, as- if sup- posing the gentleman had been a free liver, she would convince hiin there was no other difference in the sex, but as they were within or without the pale, licensed by the law, or acting in defiance of it ?" " I understand the force of your argument, Pamela. But you were going to say something more." " Only, Sir, permit me to add, that when, in my particular case, you enjoin me to appear before you always dressed, even in the early part of the day, it would be wrong, if I was less regardful of my behaviour and actions, than of my appearance." " J believe you are right, my dear, if a precise or unnecessary scrupu- lousness be avoided, and where all is unaffected, easy, and natural, as in my Pamela. For 1 have seen married ladies, both in England and France, who have kept a husband at a greater distance than they have exacted from some of his sex, who have been more entitled to his resentment thajj 10 his wife's iittiinacies, PAMELA. 63S Proofs of Mr. B.'s sincere Affection. But to wave a subject, in which, as I can with pleasure say, neither of us have much concern, tell me, my dearest, how you were employed before I came up ? Here are pen and ink : here, too, is paper ; but it is as spotless as your mind. To whom were you directing your favours now ? May I not know your subject ?" Mr. H.'s letter was a part of it ; and so 1 had put it by, at his approach, and not choosing he should see that " I am writing," replied I, " to Miss Darnford : but I think you must not ask me to see what I have written this time. I put it aside that you should not, when I heard your welcome step. The subject is our parting with our noble guests ; and a little of my apprehensiveness, on an occasion upon which our sex may write to one another; but, for some of the reasons we have been mentioning, gentle- men should not desire to see." " Then I will not, my dearest love." (So here, my dear, is another instance 1 could give you a hundred such of his receding from his owa will, in complaisance to mine.) " Only," continued he, " let me warn you against too much apprehensiveness, for your own sake, as well as mine ; for such a mind as my Pamela's I cannot permit to be habitually overclouded. And yet there now hangs upon your brow an over thought- fulness, which you must not indulge." " Indeed, Sir, I was a little too thoughtful, from my subject, before vou came ; but your presence, like the sun, has dissipated the mists that hung upon my mind. See you not," and I pressed his hand with my lips, " they are all gone already ?" smiling upon him with a delight unfeigned. "Not quite, my dearest Pamela; and therefore, if you have no objec- tion, I will change my dress, and attend you in the chariot ("or an hour or two, whither you please, that no one shadow may remain visible in this dear face ;" tenderly saluting me. " Whithersoever you please, Sir. A little ailing with you will be highly agreeable to me." The dear obliger went and changed his dress in an instant; and lie led me to the chariot, with his usual tender politeness, and we had a charm- ing airing of several miles ; returning quite happy, cheerful, and delighted with each other's conversation, without calling in upon any of our good neighbours : for what need of that, ni) dear, when we could be the best company in the world to each other ? Do these instances come up to your questions, my dear ? or, do they not ? If you think not, 1 could give you our conversation in the chariot: for I wrote it down at my first leisure, so highly was I delighted with it : for the subject was my dearest parents ; a subject started by himself, be- cause he knew it would oblige inc. Hut being tired with writing, I may reserve it, till I have the pleasure of seeing you, if you think it wortk asking for. And so 1 will hast'.n to a conclusion of this long letter. 634 PAMELA. Proofs of Mr. B.'s sincere Affection. You will perceive, my dear, by what I have written, in what sense it may be justly said, that Mr. B. is most complaisant to me before company, perhaps, politically, as you say, to do credit to his own generous choice : but that he is more tender, yea, respectfully tender (for that's the word with you) and not less polite to me, in our retired hours, you will have Xio doubt, from what I have related ; and could further relate, if it were necessary j for every day produces instances equal to what I have given you. Then, my dear, let me say to you, what I could not so freely say to any other young lady ; that I never could have hoped I should be so happy as I am, in other particulars, from a gentleman who has given himself the liberties Mr. B. has done : for i never hear from him, in company, or when alone, the least shocking expression, or such frothy jests, as tend to convey impure ideas to the most apprehensive mind. There is, indeed, the less wonder in this, and that we can glory in the true conjugal chastity, as I have the vanity to think his love, as well as my own, is the love of the mind, rather than that of person ; and our tenderest and most affecting moments, are those which lift us up above sense, and all that sense can imagine. But this is a subject too delicate to be dwelt upon, even to you : and you'll better comprehend all I mean, when your pure mind meets with a gentleman of exalted sense, like Mr. B. whom, if you find him ;iot so good as you wish, your example will make so. Permit me to add, for the sake of you, my dear parents, as well as for the sakes of my much respected friends, who have joined in the kind cau- tion you so obligingly give me, against getting into too thoughtful and gloomy a way, that there is no great fear I should continue long in it, wheri I have so kind and so generous a comforter as Mr. B. For, at his presence, all my fearful apprehensions are dissipated, and vanish like a morning dream. And depend upon it, that so sure as the day succeeds to the night, so sure will my mind, while capable of the least sense or gratitude, be illuminated the moment he shines out upon me, let it be ever so overcast in his absence, through imaginary doubts and appre- hended evils. I have only farther to add, for my comfort, that next Thursday se'ennight, if nothing hinders, we are to set out for London. And why d< you think I say for my comfort ? Only that I shall then soon have the opportunity, to assure you personally, as you give me hope, how much I am, my dear Miss Darnford, your truly affectionate P. B. I will shew you, when I see you, the conversation you require about the young ladies. LETTER XXXIX. MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, ONE more letter, and I have done for a great while, because I hope your presence will put an end to the occasion. I shall now tell you of my TAME LA. 635 - ' . ' i Mr. aud Mis. 13. pay a Visit to the Dairy. second visit to the dairy-house, where we went to breakfast, in the chariot and four, because of the distance, which is ten pretty long miles. I transcribed for you, from letters written formerly to my dear parents; an account of my former dairy-house visit, and what the people were, and whom I saw there ; and although I besought you to keep that affair to yourself, as too much affecting' the reputation of my Mr. B. to he known any farther, and even to destroy that account, when you had perused it ; yet, I make no doubt, you remember the story, and so I need not repeat any part of it. When we arrived there we found at the door, expecting us (for they heard the chariot-wheels at a distance) my pretty Miss Goodwin, and two other Misses, who had earned their ride, attended by the governess's daughter, a discreet young gentlewoman. As soon as I stepped out the child ran into my arms, with great eagerness, and I as tenderly embraced her, and leading her into the parlour, asked her abundance of questions about her work, and her lessons ; and among the rest, if she had merited this distinction of the chaise aud dairy-house breakfast, or if it was owing to her unck-'s favour, and t;> that of her governess ? The young gentle- woman assured me it was to both, and shewed me her needleworks, and penmanship : and the child was highly pleased with my commen- dations. 1 took a good deal of notice of the other two Misses, for their school- fellow's sake, and made each of them a present of some little toys ; and my Miss, of a number of pretty trinkets, with which she was highly delighted ; and I told her, that I would wait upon her governess, when I came from London into the country again, and see in what order she kept hi-r little matters; for, above all tilings, I love pretty house-wifely misses ; and then, I would bring her more. Mr. B. observed, with no small satisfaction, the child's behaviour, which is very pretty ; and appeared as fond of her, as if he had been more than her uncle, and yet seemed under some restraint, lest it should be taken, that he wus more. Such power has secret guilt, poor gentleman ! to lessen and restrain a pleasure, that would, in a happier lighl, base been so laudable to have manifested ! But how commendable is tils'; his love to the dear child, compared to that of most wicked libertines, who have no delight, but in destroying innocence; and care not what becomes of the unhappy infants, or of the still more unhappy mothers ! I am going is of force, unless the father, and, by the same rule, those who have had authority over her, and stand in the father's place, approve and confirm it. " If this, therefore, be the case in so solemn a point, surely a husband may take upon himself to dispense with such a supposed obligation, as that which you seem so loath to give up, even although you had made a vow, that you would nurse your own child. And the rather, if the prin- ciple the husband acts upon is laudable, a desire to continue his affec- tionate and faithful regards to bis wife, to preserve in her those graces, and those delicacies of person, which he admires in Irer, and which it is impossible a thorough nurse should keep up ; and as moreover, in your case, her time may be employed to so much greater improvement to her own mind, and her husband's morals, while he can look upon her in a light above that of an insipid prattling nurse, who must become a fool and a baby herself, before she can be complete in the character into which you, my dear, want to dwindle. " Some men may be fond of having their wives undertake this province, and good reasons may be assigned for such their fondness ; but it suits not me at all. And yet no man would be thought to have e;reat* r affec- tion for children than myself, or be more desirous to do them justice; for I think every one should look forward to posterity with a preference : but if my Pamela can be better employed ! if the office can be equally 650 PAMELA. Mr. B.'s Reasons for having a Nurse. well performed ; if your direction and snperintendatice will be sufficient ; and if I cannot look upon you in that way with equal delight, as if it was otherwise ; I insist upon it, my Pamela, that you acquiesce with my dis- pensation, and don't think to let me lose my beloved wife, and have an indelicate nurse put upon me, instead of her. " As to that hint (the nearest to me of all) of dangers to your constitu- tion ; there is as much reason to hope it may not be so, as to fear that it may. For children sometimes bring health with them as well as infir- mity ; and it is not a little likely, that the nurse's office may affect the health of one I hold most dear, who has no very robust constitution, and thinks it so much her duty to attend to it, that she will abridge herself of half the pleasures of life, and on that account confine herself within doors, or, in the other case, must take with her her infant and her nursery-maid wherever she goes ; and I shall either have very fine com- pany (shall I not ?) or be obliged to deny myself yours. " Then, as I propose to give you a smattering of the French and Ita- lian, I know not but I may take you on a little tour into France and Italy ; at least to Bath, Tunbridge, Oxford, York, and the principal places of England. Wherefore, as I love to look upon you as the companion of my pleasures, I advise you, my dearest love, not to weaken, or,.lo speak in a phrase proper to the present subject, wean me from that love to you, and admiration of you, which hitherto has been rather increasing than other- wise, as your merit, and regard for me have increased." These, my dear parents, are charming allurements, almost irresistible temptations ! And that makes me mistrust myself the more, and be the more diffident Fcr we are but too apt to be persuaded into any thing, when the motives are so tempting as the last. But do you take it indeed, that a husband has such a vast prerogative ? Can it be, now under the Gospel, that this setting themselves as it were, in God's place and dispen- sing with our wills, as pleases theirs, is still in force! Vet it is said, that our Saviour came not to break the law, but to fulfil it. I take it for granted, that many wives will not choose to dispute this point so earnestly as I have done ; for we have had several little debates abojit it ; and it is the only point I have ever yet debated with him : but one would not be altogether implicit neither. It is no compliment to him to be quite passive, and to have no will at all of one's own : yet would I not dispute one point, but in supposition of a superior obligation : and this, he says, he can dispense with. But alas ! my dear Mr. B. was never vet thought so entirely fit to fill up the character of a casuistical divine, as that one may absolutely rely upon his decisions in these serious points : and you know we must stand or fall by our own judgments. Upon condition, therefore, that he requires not to see this my letter, PAMELA. 651 < ., . . ' : Answer to the foregoing Letter, from Mrs. B.'s Parents. nor your answer to it, I write for your advice ; for you both have always made a conscience of your duties, and taught me to do so too, or perhaps I had not been what I am; and I know, moreover, that nobody is more conversant with the Scriptures than you are ; and, some how or other, he has got the dean against me ; and I care not to be so free with the worthy minister of our parish here, and still less with the younger clergy- men I am acquainted with. But this I see plainly, that he will have his own way; and if I cannot jet over my scruples, what shall I do ? For if I think it a sin to submit to the dispensation he insists upon as in his power tp grant, and to submit to it, what will become of my peace of mind ? For it is not in our power to believe as one will. Then weak minds will have their doubts, and the law allows a toleration for scrupulous and tender consciences : but my beloved husband, my law-giver, and my prince, I doubt will allow none to poor me ! As to the liberty he gives me for a month, I should be loath to take it ; for one ki ows not the inconveniences that may attend a change of nourish- ment ; or if I did; 1 should rather But I know not what I would say ; for I am but a young creature to be in this way, and very unequal to it in every respect ! So I commit myself to God's direction, and your advice, as becomes your ever dutiful daughter, P. B. LETTER XLIII. MY DEAREST CHILD, YOUR mother and I have as well considered the case you put as we are able ; and we think your own reasons very good ; and it is a thousand pities your honoured husband will not allow them, as you, my dear, make it such a point with you. Very few ladies would give their spouses, we believe, the trouble of this debate ; and few gentlemen are so very nice as yours in this respect ; for I (but what signifies what such a mean soul as I think, compared to so learned and brave a gentleman ; yet I) always thought your dear mother, and she has been a prrtty woman too, in her time, never looked so lovely, as when 1 saw her, like the pelican in the wilderness, feeding her young ones from her kind breast- and had I never so nobis an estate, I should have had the same thoughts. But since the good squire cannot take this pleasure ; since he sn much values your person ; since he gives you warning, that it may estrange his affections ; since he is impatient *>f denial, and thinks so highly of his prerogative ; since he may, if disobliged, resume some bad habits, and so you m;iy have all your prayers and hopes in his perfect reformation frus- trat'd. ;>.ud find your own power to do good more narrowed: we think, besides : he obedience you have vowed to him, and is the duty of every 652 PAMELA. Letter from Mis. B. to her Parents. good wife, you ought to give up the point, and acquiesce ; for this seeuaeth to us to be the lesser evil : and God Almighty, if it should be your duty, will not be less merciful than men ; who, as his honour says, by the laws of the realm, excuses a wife when she is faulty by the command of the husband : and we hope, the fault he is pleased to make you commit (if a fault, for he really gives very praiseworthy motives for his dispensation) will not be laid at his own door. So e'en resolve, my dearest child, to submit to it, and with cheerfulness too. God send you a happy hour '. But who know6, when the time comes, whether it may not be proper to dispense with this duty, as you deem it, on other accounts ? for every young person is not enabled to perform it. So, to shew his honour that you will cheerfully acquiesce, your dear mother advises you to look out for a wholesome, good-humoured, honest body, as near your complexion and temper, and constitution, as may be : and it may not be the worse, she thinks, if she is twenty, or one or two and twenty ; for she will have more strength and perfection, as one may say, than even you can have at your tender age : and, above all, for the wise reason you give from your reading, that she may be brought to-bed much about your time, if possible. We can look out, about us, for such an one. And, as Mr. B. is not averse to have the dear child in the house, you will have as much delight, and the dear baby may fare as well, under your prudent and careful eye, as if you were obliged in the way you would choose. So God direct you, my child, in all your ways, and make you acquiesce in this point with cheerfulness (although, as yon say, one cannot believe, as one pleases ; for we verily are of opinion you safely may, as matters stand) and continue to you, and your honoured husband, health, and all manner of happiness, are the prayers of your most affectionate father and mother, J. and E. Andrews. I have privately shewed our worthy minister your letter : you know he is learned and judicious ; and he is of our opinion, that it is best for you, on all accounts, to acquiesce. Besides, it may disoblige the squire, and it will signify nothing after all; for he will have his way, that's sure enough. LETTER XLIV. i THANK you, my dearest parents, for your kind letter ; it was given to Mr. B. and he brought it to me himself, and was angry with me : indeed be was, as you shall hear : 41 'Tis from the good couple, my dear, I see. I hope they are of my epinion But whether they be or not But I will leave you ; and do you, Pamela, step down to my closet, when you have perused it." He was pleased to withdraw ; and I read it, and sa4 down, and considered PAMELA. 65S Anger of Mr. B. at Mrs. B.'s Non-compliance. it well j but, as you know I made it always my mafrim to do what I could not avoid to do, with as good a grace as possible, I waited on the dear gentleman. " Well, Pamela," said he, a little seriously, " what say the worthy pair ?" " O Sir ! they declare for you. They say, it is best for me to yield up this point." " They are certainly in the right But were you not a dear perverse creature, to give me all this trouble about your saucy scruples ?" " Nay, Sir, don't call them so/'^aid I ; little thinking he was displeased with me. "I still am somewhat wavering; though they advise me to acquiesce ; and, as it is your will, and you have determined, it is my duty to yield up the point ?" " But do you yield it up cheerfully, my dear ?" " I do Sir ; and will never more dispute it, let what will happen. And I beg pardon for having so often entered into this subject with you. But you know, Sir, if one's weakness of mind gives one scruples, one should not yield implicitly, till they arc satisfied ; for that would look as if one gave not you the obedience of a free mind." " You are very obliging, just now, my dear : but I can tell you, you had made me half serious ; yet I would not shew it, in compliment to your present condition ; for I did not expect that you would have thought any appeal necessary, though to your parents, in a point that I was determined upon, as you must see, every time we talked of it." This struck me all in a heap. I looked down to the ground : having no courage to look up to his face, for fear I should behold his aspect as mortifying to me as his words. But he took both my hands, and drew me kindly to him, and saluted me " Excuse me, my dearest love: I am not angry with you Why starts this precious pearl ?" and kissed my cheek, " speak to me, Pamela !" " I will, Sir 1 will as soon as I can :" for this being my first check, so seriously given, my heart was full. But as I knew he would be angry, and think me obstinate, if I did not speak, I said, full of concern, "I wish, Sir I wish you had been pleased to spare me a little longer, for the same kind, very kind, consideration." " But is it not better, my dear, to tell you I ivas a little out of humour with you, than that I am? But you were very earnest with me on this point more than once ; and you put me upon a hated, because ungenerous, necessity of pleading my prerogative, as I call it. ; yet this would not do, but you appealed against me in the point I was determined upon, for reasons altogether in your favour: and if this was not like my Pamela, excuse me, that I could not help being a little unlike myself." 654 PAMELA. ,-': ' ' ' 'ii. /ingcr of Mr. B. at Sirs. B/s Non-compliance " Ah !" thought I, " this is not so very unlike your clear self, \vere I to give the least shadow of an occasion ; for it is of a piece with your lessons formerly." *' I am sure," said I, " I was not in the least aware that I had offended. But I was too little circumspect. I had been used to your goodness for so long a time, that I expected it, it seems ; and thought I was sure of your favourable construction." " Why so you may be, my dear, in every thing almost. But I don't love to speak twice my mind on the same subject ; you know I don't ! and you have really disputed this point with me five or six times ; insomuch, that I wondered what was come to my dearest." " I thought, Sir, you would have distinguished between a command where my conscience was concerned, and a common point : you know, Sir, I never had any will but yours in common points. But, indeed, yoa make me fearful, because my task is rendered too difficult for my own weak judgment. But then, Sir But I shall offend again " " And then what ? Say all you would say, Pamela And then what?" " Why, Sir, if I must speak You threaten me so at every turn with that cruel word polygamy, that it shews me it is too much in your mind But I shall make you angry again." " Was not the patriarch husbands' practice, Pamela, a fit thing to be opposed to that of the patriareh wives ? but do you say, I threaten you with that word? Take care, my love : you have been a. faultless angel hitherto. Don't let me find you ready to make such harsh constructions as a mere woman is accustomed to make, when she is disposed to be cap- tious : although a better construction lies before her." I was silent, but by my tears. " Now, I doubt, Pamela, your spirit is high. You won't speak, because you are out of humour at what I say. I will have no sullen reserves, my dearest. What means that heaving sob? I know that this is the time with your sex, when, saddened with your apprehensions, and indulged because of them, by the fond husband, it is needful for both their sakes, to watch over the changes of their temper. For ladies in your way are often like encroaching subjects ; apt to extend what they call their privileges, on the indulgence shewed them ; and the husband never again recovers the ascendant he had before." " You know these things better than I, Mr. B. But I had no intention to invade your province, or to go out of my own. Yet I thought I had a right to a little free will, on some greater occasions." " Why, so you have, my dear. But you must not plead one text of Scripture in behalf of your own will ; and refuse to another its due weight, when it makes for mine." PAMELA. 655 Mrs. B. accedes to Mr. B.'s Wishes. " Well, Sir, I must needs say, 1 have one advantage above others of my sex ; for if wives, in my circumstances, are apt to grow upon indul- gence, I am very happy that your kind and watchful care will hinder me from falling into that error." He gave me a gentle tap on the neck ; " Let me beat my beloved saucebox," said he : " is it thus you rally my watchful care over you for your own good ? But tell me, truly, Pamela, are you not a little sullen ? Look up to me, my dear Are you not ?" " I believe I am ; but 'tis but very little, Sir It will soon go off Please to let me withdraw, that I may take myself to task about it ; for at pre- sent I know not what to do, because I did not expect the displeasure I have incurred." " Is it not the same thing," replied he, " if this our first quarrel end here, without your withdrawing I forgive you heartily, my Pamela ; and give me one kiss, and I will think of your saucy appeal against me no more." " I will comply with your condition, Sir; but I have a great mind to be saucy. I wish you would let me for this once." " What would you say, my dearest ? Be saucy then, as you call it, as saucy as you can." " Why then I am a little sullen at present that I am : and I am not fully convinced, whether it must be I that forgive you, or you me. For, indeed, if I can recollect, I cannot think my fault so great in this point, that was a point of conscience to me, as (pardon me, Sir) to stand in need of your forgiveness." " Well, then, my dearest," said he, " we will forgive one another ? but take this with you, that it is my love to you that makes me more deli- cate than otherwise I should be ; and you have inured me so much to a faultless conJuct, that I can hardly bear with natural infirmities from you. But," giving me another tap, " get you gone ; I leave you to your recol- lection ; and let me know what fruits it produces : for I must not be put off with a half compliance ; I must have your whole will with me, if possible." , So I went up, and recollecting every thing, sacrificed to my sex, as Mr. B. calls it, when he talks of a wife's reluctance to yield a favourite point: for 1 shed many tears, because my heart was set upon it ; and this patriarchal retort hung heavy upon my mind. And so, my dear parents, twenty charming ideas and pleasures I had formed to myself are vanished from me, and my measures are quite broken. But after my heart was relieved by my eye, I was lighter anil easier.. And the result is, we have heard of a good sort of woman, that is to be my poor baby's mother, when it comes ; so your kindly offered enquiries are needless, I believe. 65G PAMELA. Mrs. B. accedes to Mr. B.'s Wishes. I can't tell but this sort of rebuff might be a little necessary after all : for I had forgotten, through Mr. B.'s past indulgence for so long a time, his injunctions and lessons ! and this awfully enforced remembrance shews me, that the rules he formerly prescribed, were not words of course, but that he intended to keep me up to the letter of them. So 1 must be a little more circumspect, I find that, than of late 1 thought I had occasion to be. But he is the best and tenderest of husbands, for all this ; and yet I was forced to accept of his forgiveness, and he did not think himself obliged to me for mine: and has carried his point all to nothing, as the racing gentlemen say. But I can see one thing, nevertheless, on this occasion, that the words command and obey are not quite blotted out of his vocabulary, as he said they should be. But, truly, I did not imagine before, that the husband had so very extensive a prerogative neither. Nor do I believe, that many ladies would sit down so satisfied with it, as I am forced to do Yet he vows, that it must have been so, had he married a princess ; and that it is not because of the former inequality of condition between us. I can't tell what to say to that : but I fancy there would then have been some princely struggles between tlein. It may be, if he could not have- conquered, he would not have lived with her; or, perhaps, would have run into his wicked polygamy notions. Mr. B. to my further great comfort, has just been telling me, how little a wife of his must expect from her tears ; and has most nicely been dis- tinguishing between tears of sullenness and tears of penitence : the one, he declares, shall always meet with his indulgence and kindnsss, and never pass unrewarded : but the other, being the last resources of the sex, after they are disarmed of all others, and by which they too often, as he says, carry all their purposes, he will never suffer to have any force at all upon him. Very heroic, truly ! One stands a poor chance in a contest with such a husband. It must be all pure unmixed obedience and submission. And I find, half the tears a poor wife might shed in matrimonial bickerings, so frequent with some, even of those not unhappily married (as the world thinks) would be of no effect, were all men of his mind. " 'Tis well for our sex in general, that there are not many husbands who distinguish thus niceljfy For, I doubt, there are but very few so well to their ladies' observances as Mr. B. is to mine, and who would act so generously and so tenderly by a wife as he does, in every material instance on which the happiness of life depends. But we are quite reconciled ; although, as I said, upon his own terms : and so I can still style myself, my dear honoured parent*, your happy, us well as dutiful daughter. P, B, PAMELA. 657 Letter from Lady Davers to Mrs. B. LETT ER XLV. From Lady Daveis to Mrs. B. MY DEAR PAMELA, I HAVE sent you a present, the completest I could procure, of every- thing that may suit your approaching happy circumstance ; as I hope it will be to you, and to us all : but it is with a hope annexed, that although both sexes are thought of in it, you will not put us off with a girl : no, child, we will not permit you, may we have our wills, to t/unk of giving us a girl, till you. have presented us with half a dozen fine boys. For our line is gone so low, we expect that human security from you in your first seven yearsj or we shall be disappointed. J will now give you their names, if my brother and you approve of them : your first shall be Billy : my Lord Davers, and the Earl of C. godfathers ; and it must be doubly godmothered too, or I am afraid the countess and I shall fall out about it. Your second, Davers ; be sure remem- ber that. Your third, Charley ; your fourth, Jemmy ; your fifth, Harry ; your sixth Dldley, if you will and your girl, if you had not rather call it Pamela, shall be Barbara The rest name as you please. And so, my dear, I wish all seven happily over with you. I am glad you got safe to town : and long to hear of Miss Darnford's arrival, because I know you'll be out of your bias in your new settlement till then. She is a fine lady, and writes the most to my taste of any one of her sex that I know, next to you. I wish she'd be so kind as to cor- respond with me. But be sure don't omit to give me the sequel of her sister's and Murray's affair, and what you think will please me in relation to her. You do well to save yourself the trouble of describing the town and the public places. We are no strangers to them ; and they are too much our table talk, when any country lady has for the first time been carried to town, and returned: besides, what London affords is nothing that deserves mention, compared to what we have seen at Paris and at Versailles, and other of the French palaces. You exactly, therefore, hit our tastes, and answer our expectations, when you give us, in your pecu- liar manner, sentiments on what we may call the soul of things, and such characters as you draw with a pencil borrowed from the hand of nature, intermingled with those fine lights and shades of reflections and observa- tions, that, make your pictures glow, and instruct as well as delight There, Pamela, is encouragement for you to proceed iu obliging us. We arc all \A one mind in this respect ; and more than ever, since we have seen your actions so well answered to your writings ; and that theory and practice, as to every excellence that can adorn a lady, is the same thing with you. We are pleased with your lawyers' characters. There are life and nature " T: x \ 658 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Lady Havers. in then* ; but never avoid giving all -that occur to you, for tijat seems to be one of your talents } and in the ugliest, there will be matter of instruc- tion ; especially as you seem naturally to fall upon such as are so general, that no one who converses, but must see in them the picture of one or other he is acquainted with. By this time,, perhaps, Miss Darnford will be with you Our respects to her, if so. And you will have been at some of the theatrical entertain- ments : so will not want subjects to oblige us. 'Twas a good thought of your dear man's, to carry you to see the several houses, and to make you a judge, by that means, of the disposition and fashion of every thing in them. Tell him, 1 love him better and better. I am proud of my brother, and do nothing but talk of what a charming husband he makes, but then, lie gives an example to all who know him and his uncontrolable temper (which makes against many of us) that it is possible for a good wife to make even a bad man a worthy husband : and this affords an instruction which may stand all our sex in good stead. But then they must have been cautious first, to choose a man of natural good sense, and good manners, and not a brutal or abandoned debauchee. But bark ye-nie; my sweet girl, what have I done, that you won't write yourself sister to me ? I could find in my heart to be angry with you. Before my last visit, I was scrupulous to subscribe myself so to you. But since I have seen myself so much surpassed in every excellence, that I would take pleasure in the name, you assume a pride in your turn, and may think it undervaluing yourself, to call me so Ay, that's the things \ doubt Although I have endeavoured by several regulations since my return (and the countess, too, keeps your example in distant view, as well as I) to be more worthy of the appellation. If, therefore, you would avoid thg reproaches of secret pride, under the shadow of so' remarkable a humility, for the future never omit subscribing as 1 dii, with great pleasure, your truly affectionate sister and friend, , B. Davers. I always take it for granted, that my worthy brother sends his respects to us ; as you must, that Lord Davers, the Countess of C. and Jacke) (who, as well as his uncle, talks of nothing else but you) send theirs ; and go unnecessary compliments will be always excluded our correspondence. LETTER XLVE la Answer to the preceding. HOW you overwhelmed me with your goodness, my dearest lady, in every word of your >ast welcome letter, is beyond my power toexpress! How nobly Das your ladyship contrived, in your ever valued present, to encou- rage a doubting and apprehensive mind ! And how does it contribute to piy joy and my glory, that I am deemed by the noble sister of my be&V PAMELA. 659 Gratitude of Mrs. B. for La.iy Dvers*8 Affection. beloved not wholly unworthy of being the humble means to continue, and, perhaps, to perpetuate, a family so ancient and so honourable ! When I contemplate this, and look upon what I was How shall I express a sense of the honour done me ! And when, reading over the other engaging particulars in your ladyship's letter, I come to the last charmigg paragraph, I am doubly affected to see myself seemingly up- braided, but so politely emboldened to assume an appellation that othei- wise I hardly dared. I humble I who never had a sister before To find one now in Lady Davers ! O Madam, you, and only you, can teach me words fit to express the joy and the gratitude that filled my delighted heart ! But thus much I am taught, that there is something more than the low-born can imagine in birth and education. This is eo evident in your ladyship's actions, words, and manner, that it strikes one with a becoming reverence ; and we look up with awe to a condition we emulate in vain, when raised by partial favour, like what I have found ; and are confounded when we sec grandeur of soul joined with grandeur of birth and condition ; and a noble lady acting thus nobly, as Lady Davers acts. My best wishes, and a thousand blessings, attend your radyship in all you undertake ! and I am persuaded the latter will, and a peace and satis- faction of mind incomparably to be preferred to whatever else this world can afford, in the new regulations, which yon, and my dear lady countess, have set on foot in your families : and when I can have the happiness to know what they are, I shall, I am confident, greatly improve my own methods by them. Were we to live for ever in ton hfe, we might be careless and indif- ferent about these matters : but when such .hi uncertainty as to the time, and such a certainty as to the event is before us, a prudent mind will be always preparing, till prepared ; and what can be a better preparative, than charitable actions to our fellow- creatures in the eye of that Majesty, which wants nothing of us himself, but to do ju>t and merciful things to one another. Pardon me, my dearest lady, for this my free style. Metbinks I am out of myself ! I kuow not bow to descend "all at once from tbe height to which you hue; raised me : and you must forgive the reflections to which you yourself, and your own noble action*, have given birth. Here, liming t ik'-n respite a little, I naturally sink into buu'y again. And will not your ladyship confine your expectations from me within narrower limits? I'or, oh, I cvr.not, even with my wishes, so swiftly follow your expectations, if such they are '. Hut, however, leaving futurity to him, who only governs futurity, ai:d who conducts us all, ;.nd our af- fairs, a- ih;.l! beit answer Lis own divine purpose^ 1 will proceed as well x x J 660 PAMELA. Mr. and Mrs. B. meet Miss Darnford. as I can, to obey you in those articles, which are, at present, more within my own power. My dear Miss Darnford, then, let me acquaint your ladyship, arrived on Thursday lust: she had given us notice, by a line, of the day she set out ; and Sir Simon and Lady Darnford saw her ten miles on the way to the stage-coach in Sir Simon's coach, Mr. Murray attending her on horseback. They parted with her, as was easy to guess from her merit, "with great tenderness ; and we are to look upon the visit (as we do) as a high favour from her papa and mamma; who, however, charge her not to exceed a month in and but, which I regret much. Mr. B. kindly'proposed to me, as she came in the stage-coach, attended with one maid-servant, to meet her part of the way in his coach and six, if, as he was pleased to say, it would not be too fatiguing to me ; and we would go so early as to dine at St. Alban's. I gladly consented, an^l we got thither about one o'clock; and while dinner was preparing, he was pleased to shew me the great church there, and the curious vault of the good Duke of Gloucester, and also the monument of the great Lord Chancellor Bacon in St. Michael's church ; all which, no doubt, your ladyship has seen. There happened to be six passengers hi the stage-coach, including Miss Darnford and her maid ; she was exceeding glad to be relieved from them, though the weather was cold enough, two of the passengers being not very agreeable company, one a rough military man, and the other a positive humoursome old gentlewoman ; and the others two sisters " Who jangled now and then," said she, " as much as my sister, and my sister's sister." Judge how joyful this meeting was to us both. Mr. B. was no less de- lighted, and said, he was infinitely obliged to Sir Simon for this precious trust. " I come with double pleasure," said she, " to seethe greatest curiosity in England, a husband and wife, who have not, in so many months as you have been married, if I may believe report, and your letters, Mrs. B. once repented." " You are sevsre, Miss Darnford," replied Mr. B. " upon people in the married state : 1 hope there are many such instances." " There might, if there were more such husbands as Mr. B. makes. I * bated you once, and thought you very wicked ; but I revere you now." " If you will revere any body, my dear Miss Darnford," said he, "let iv be this good girl ; for it is all owing to her conduct and direction, that I make a tolerable husband : were there more such wives, I am persuader] there would be more such husbands than there are." " You see, my dear," said I, " what it is to be wedded to a generous man. Mr. B. by his noble treatment of me, creates a merit in me, and disclaims the natural effects of his own goodness." PAMELA. 661 Their Joy at meeting. " Well, you're a charming couple Person and mind. I know not any equal either of you have. But, Mr. B. I will not compliment you too highly. I may make you proud, for men are saucy creatures ; but 1 can- not make your lady so : and in this doubt of the one, and confidence in the other, I must join with you, that her merit is the greatest Since, excuse me, Sir, her example has reformed her rake ; and you have only confirmed in her the virtues you found ready formed to your hand." " That distinction," said Mr. B. " is worthy of Miss Darnford's . judgment." " My dearest Miss Darnford my dearest Mr. B." said I, laying my hand upon the hand of each, " how can you go on thus ! As I look upon every kind thing two such dear friends say of me, as incentives for me to endeavour to deserve it, you must not task me too high ; for then, instead of encouraging, you'll make me despair." Mr. B. clasped us both in his arms, and saluted each and called us his two nonpariels. He led us into the coach ; and in a free, easy, joyful manner, not in the least tired or fatigued, did we reach the town and Mr. B.'s house ; with which and its furniture, and the apartments allotted for her, my dear friend is highly pleased. But the dear lady put me into some little confusion, when she saw me first, taking notice of my improvements, as she called them, before Mr. B. I looked at him and her with a downcast eye. He smiled, and said, " Woujd you, my good Miss Darnford, look so silly, after such a length of time, with a husband you need not be ashamed of." " No, indeed, Sir, not I, I'll assure you ; nor will I forgive these maiden airs in a wife so happy as you are." I said nothing. But I wished myself, in mind and behaviour, to be just what Miss Darnford is. But how I run on ! Your ladyship expects that I shall write as freely to you, as I used to do to my parents. I have tin: merit of obeying you, that I have but, 1 doubt, too .much to the exercise of your patience. This (like all mine} is a long letter ; and I will only adtl to it Mis Darnford's humble respects, and thanks for your ladyship's kind mention of her, which she receives as no small honour. And now, Madam, with a greater pleasure than I can express, will 1 make use of the liberty you so kindly allow me to take, of subscribing myself with that profound respect which beconjes me, your ladyship's most obliged sister, and obedient servant, 1'. B. Mr. Adams, Mr. Longman, and Mrs. Jervis, are just arrived; and our houFehold is now complete. x X Z 662 PAMELA. .Mrs. B.'s Opinion of the Theatre. LETTER XLVII. From Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY GOOD LADY, YOU command me to acquaint you with the proceedings between Mr. Murray and Miss Nanny Darnford : and Miss Polly makes it easy for me to obey you in this particular, and in very few words ; for she says, every thing was adjusted before sbe came away, and the ceremony, she believes, may be performed by this time. She rejoices that she was out of the way of it : for, she says, love is so awkward a thing to Mr. Murray, and good-humour so uncommon an one to Miss Nancy, that she hopes she shall never see such another courtship. Mr. B. teases Miss Darnford, that she is a little piqued, and that she shewed it by a satirical fling or two in a former letter to me, that her hum- ble servant took her at her word : and yet he acknowledges, that he believes she despises him ! and indeed Mr. Murray has shewn, that he deserves to be despised by her. She says nothing has piqued her in the whole affair, but the triumph it gave to thai ill-natured girl, as she justly calls her sister, who has insulted her unmercifully on that account ; and yet with so low and mean a spite, that she has been vexed at herself to shew the least concern on the occa- sion. But ungenerous teasing is an intolerable thing, as she says ; anil, often repeated, will vex a mind naturally above it : " Had it," says she, " come from any body else, I should not have heeded it; but how can one despise a bister ?" We have been at the play-house several times ; and, give me leave to say, Madam (for I have now read as well as seen several) that I think the stag!:, by proper regulations, might be made' a profitable amusement. But nothing more convinces one of the truth of the common observation, that the best thing;, corrupted, prove the worst, than these representations The terror and compunction for evil deeds, the compassion for a just distress, and the general beneficence which those lively exhibitions are so capable of raising in the human mind, might be of great service, when directed to right ends, and induced by proper motives : particularly where the actious which the catastrophe is designed to punish, are not set in such advantageous lights as shall destroy the end of the moral, and make the vice that ought to be censured, linkable ; where instruction is kept in view all the way, and where vice is punished, and virtue rewarded. But give me leave t. say, that I think there is hardly one play I have seen or read hitherto, but has too much of love in it, as that passion i- generally treated. How unnatural in some, how inflaming in others, are the descriptions of it ! In most, rather rant and fury, like the loves of the PAMELA. 663 Mrs. B.'s Critique on the Distressed Mother. fiercer brute animals, as Virgil, translated by Pryden, describes them, than the soft, sighing, fearfully hopeful murmurs, that swell the bosoms of our gentler sex ; and the respectful, timorous, submissive complainings of the other, when the truth of the passion humanizes, as onj may say, their more rugged hearts. In particular, what strange indelicates do these writers of tragedy often make of our sex ! They don't enter into the passion at all, if I have any notion of it; but when the authors want to paint it strongly (at least in those plays I have seen and read) their aim seems to raise a whirlwind, as I may say, which sweeps down reason, religion, and decency ; and car- ries every laudable duty away bef&re it ; so that all the examples can serve to shew, is, how a disappointed lover may rage and storm, resent and revenge. The play I first saw was the tragedy of the Distressed Mother ; and a great manj beautiful things I think there are in it : but half of it is a tempestuous, cruel, ungoverned rant of passion, and ends in cruelty, bloodshed, and desolation, which the truth of the story not warrenting, as Mr. B. tells me, makes it the more pity, that the original author (for it is a French play, translated, you know, Madam) had not conducted it, siuce it was his choice, with less terror, and with greater propriety, to the passions intended to be raised, and actually raised in many places. I need not tell your ladyship what the story is; and yet it is necessary, as you demand my opinion, that 1 should give a little sketch of it. It is this, then : Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles, is betrothed to Hermione, the daughter of Menelaus ; but Hector's widow, Andromache, with Astyanax, her son by Hector, in the division of the Trojan captives, falls to the lot of Pyrrhus, who slighting Hermione (actually sent to his court, and in his eourt, waiting his good pleasure to espouse her) falls in love with Andro- mache. Orestes, the son of Agamemnon, in love with Hermione, is sent ambassador from the other Greek princes to demand the life of Astyanax, for fear the poor infant should become another Hector, and avenge his father's death : a most improbable, unprincely, and base-hearted fear, as Pyrrhus himself represents it.' Pyrrhus, in hope to gain the mother's love, which he seeks on honourable terms, offers to break with all his allies, rather than give up the child ; but finding her resolved on widowhood, determines to sacrifice the child, and marry Hermione. This creatos a line distress in Andromache, between a laudable purpose to continue the widow of so great and so deserving a prince, and her desire to preserve the life of her son, by that beloved hero ; and at last, overcome by maternal tender- ness, finding no other way, she resolves to marry Pyrrhus, and vat to destroy herself after thu marriage ceremony his entitled her son to her X x 4 664 PAMELA. i Mid. 15. '8 Critique on the Distressed Mot.'fcr. new husband's protection (a very strange, and not very certain expedient to answer her view) and so to die the widow of Hector, though she gave her hand to Pyrrhus, and avowed herself his at the altar, and of conse- quence had a still less power over her own life than before. Hernjione, a high spirited lady, raging in her love to Pyrrhus., and for the slight and disappointment she met with, obliges Orestes, on promise of giving her heart and hand to him, to murder Pyrrhus at the altar, while the ceremony of marriage with Andromache is performing. He causes this to be done. When done, he applies to Hermione, expecting her applause, who then violently upbraids him for having obeyed her ; and flying towards the temple, meets the body of Pyrrhus, and stabs herself upon it. Upon this, Orestes runs mad, and it is said to be the finest mad scene in any English play. Andromache remains queen ; her son lives ; and being diverted from her own bloody purpose, she has nothing to do, but to give orders for the funeral of Pyrrhus, and to bring her son in triumph from a prison to a palace. This is, in brief, the story. Now, Madam, since you expect it from me, I will tell you, in my artless way, what I think not quite so pretty, and what is great and beautiful in this play ; which, upon the whole, however, I was much pleased with, and should have been more, had there been less terror in it, and more probability, as I presume to say, in some of its parts : anil had not the softest passion in nature been treated as such a flaming thing, as cannot be a worthy example to female minds. And first, I could not but observe, that the plea of the princes of Greece for the murder of Astyanax, a helpless infant, to procure which, and for nothing else, they send one of the chief princes of Greece ambassador to Pyrrhus, is a very poor one, and most easily answered. For thus Orestes rays, among other very pompous things : " Have you so soon forgot the mighty Hector? The Greeks remember his high brandish'd sword, That fill'd their states with widows and with orphans, For which they call for vengeance on bis son, Who knows what he may one day prove ?" And in nnother place : " Troy may again revive, and a new Hector Rise in Astyanax." And in another place : " Sir, call to mind th* unrivall'd strength of Troy, Her walls, her bulwarks, and her gates of brass, Her kings, her heroes, and embattled armies." PA'MELA. 665 Mrs. B.'s Critique oh the Distressed Mother. What tragedy pomp is this ! How poor the plea, from princes and heroes, when.it is so easily answered by Pyrrhus, in this manner ! " I call them all to mind : and see them all Confus'd in dust ; all mix'd in one wide ruin ; All but a child, and he in bondage hfld, What vengeance can we fear from such a Troy ?" And a little before : " Let dastard souls be timorously wise ; But tell them, Pyrrhus knows not how to form Far fancy'd ills, and dangers out of sight." And still with greater contempt : " 1 thought your kings were met On more important counsels. When I heard The name of their ambassador,.! hop'd Some glorious enterprise was taking birth. Is Agamemnon's son dispatch'd for this ? And do the Grecian chiefs, rcnown'd in war, A race of heroes, join in close debate To plot an infant's death ?" But what if this very Pyrrhus, after twenty humane and generous things which the poet makes him say, shews, that all this right thinking is only owing to his passion for the mother ? And as soon as she gives him to understand she is resolved to remain Hector's widow, he determines to give way to the embassy and threats of the Grecian princes, which lie had so justly despised, and to destroy the infant. But first tells her 'Tis true Hermione was sent to share My throne and bed " A fine errand for a high-spirited lady '. and to wait afterwards his good pleasure in his own court, through a scries of slights and contempts, for the performance of his vow-, ! And he generously, like a true insulting; man, boasts And would with transport hear The vows which you neglect. To which Andromache nobly answers, " She has no Troy, No Hector, to lament : she has not lo->f A husband by your conquests : tuch a husband, Tormenting thought ! whose death alone has mad* Your sire immortal !" 66*6 PAMELA. Mrs. H.'s Critique on the Distressed Mother. This enrages the hero ; and what he should have admird her for, had his soul been half as noble as hers, he thus resents : " I've been too tame : 1 will awake to vengeance ; The son shall answer for his ynother's scorn, The Greeks demand him : nor will I endanger My realms; to pleasure an ungrateful woman." Accordingly he resolves to sacrifice the child ; to do justice lo Hermionc, out of spite to Andromache ; and most ungenerously, knowing Orestes loves Hermione to distraction, tclis him, he shall grace his nuptial rites, and he will receive Hermione from his hands. But now again, see what succeeds to this : one look of favour from Andromache reverses all his new resolves, makes him throw new indigni- ties on Hermione, new contempts upon the Greek princtfs ; and shew, that if he acts right in one point, the saving of the child, it is from wrong and unjustifiable motives ; and yet the poet seems to design him an amiable character. Now, Madam, could not a distress have been formed in this story from more laudable and proper motives ? Should this passion of unbridled love be represented in" such a strong, such an irresistible light to an audience, who must be taught, that the highest ingratitude, the most rageful extreme of sensual passion, the most unjustifiable actions, and the sacrifice of all considerations of public good, and private right, had examples all in this piece to warrant them ? In short, Madam, I think none of the love in this piece is such a love, however suited to Hermione's character and circumstances, as is fit to be recommended to our example : 'tis a love that shocks one, and is rather rage and tumult than love, and succeeds accordingly. So that of Pyrrhus is ungoverned, wild, unjust, ungenerous caprice. Hermione's is founded in confessed ingratitude to Orestes, and she perseveres in it to Pyrrhus, when the indignities put upon her should have made her sooner wish for death, than for so perjured a man ; and yet, I think, she shews an incon- sistent tenderness for Orestes (as I have hinted) while her passion for Pyrrhus flames out with so much violence. The motive of Andromache (for her's is the most perfect character in the piece, and designed to be so by the poet) to save her son, is the best a v oinan could have to excuse her for marrying the man who had slaughtered nil her relations : but the uncertainty of securiug that point, by the mere formality of joining hands with Pyrrhus, and her resolution to destoy her- self, in defiance of her vows just plighted to be his, was a strange expe- dient to preserve her widowhood, and her child : for was it very likely, that a man so wildly in love with her, a? to forego all other just and pru- PAMELA. 667 Mrs. B.'s Critique on tho Distressed Mother. dent considerations for her, and who had shewn, that he would have de- stroyed her son, bnt for the sake of her person, would, when disappointed by so great a rashness, have hazarded his realms in defence of her on ? Indeed the moral of the whole only regards Andromache; nor is there any thing but violence and terror in the rest of the story and characters, as if the poet was determined to sink all into one, and make that great, at the expense of the rest. 'Tis, however, in my humble opinion, a good one, to shew, that persons iu distress ought never to despond, he their afflictions what they will; and ought to have weighed with Andromache herself, to make her avoid the crime of suicide, which she had resolved upon, since this moral is put into her mouth ; but so late, that it seems rather to make her good by an event she could not foresee than by the prudenete of her reflections, which would not, without that event, bave prevented her from a rash action, that must have rendered the moral-in- effectual : Though phing'd in ills, and exercis'd in care, Yet never let the noble mind despair, Where press'd by dangers, and beset with foes, The gods their timely succour interpose ; And when our virtue sinks, o'erwhehn'd with grief, \\s unforeseen expedients bring relief." Now, Madam, good as this moral i% 1 should rather, in generosity, have had it recommended from any mouth than that of Andromache : for what rs the eotisolation she receives ? What are the expedients she so* much rejoices in ? Why, in the first place, the murder of a prince who loved her more than his own glory, and to whom she had just given her faith, as a second husband, though forced to it from a laudable motive : and next, to the self-murder of Hermione, the distraction of Orestes, and the pros- pect of succeeding, with her son, to the throne of tin murdered prince; from which, however, she could not expect but to be driven, and her son at last to be destroyed, by those vengeful confederate-, who had joined, l-y a solemn embassy, to demand bib life, and who now, by his elevation, h id stronger reasons to apprehend danger from him, and less difficulty to effect his ruin, since Pyrrhus was no more. But the epilogue spoken after the play, by Mrs. Oldfit Id. hi the charac- ter of Androinachi , was more shocking to me than the most terrible parts r.f the play ; as by lewd, and even senseless double entendre, it could be calculated only to efface all the tender, all the virtuous sentiment -, which the tragedy W4S designed to raise. The pleasure this gave the men was equally barbarous and insulting ; all turning <<> the boxes, pit, and galleries, where ladies were, to set how they looked, and stood an emphatical and toe-well pronounced ridicule, 668 PAMELA. , , _ , Mrs. B.'s Critique on the Distressed Mother. not only upon the play in general, hut upon the part of Andromache in particular, which had been so well sustained by an excellent actress ; and I was extremely mortified to see my faVQurite (and the only perfect) cha- racter debased and despoiled, and the widow of Hector, prince of Troy, talking grossly to an audience, and setting it. out with all the wicked graces of action and affected archness of look, ajttitude, and emphasis. I stood up " Dear Sir ! Dear Miss !" said I. " What's the matter, my love ?" said Mr. B. smiling. "Why have I wept the distresses of the injured Hermione ?" whispered I : " why have I been moved by the murder of the brave Pyrrhus, and shocked by the madness of Orestes ? Is it for this ? See you not Hector's widow, the noble Andromache, inverting the design of the whole play, satirizing her own sex, but indeed most of all ridiculing and shaming, in my mind, that part of the audience, who can be delighted with this vile epilogue, after such scenes of horror and distress ?" He was pleased to say, smiling, " I expected, my dear, that your deli- cacy, and Miss Darnford's too, would be shocked on (his preposterous occasion. 1 never saw this play, rake as I was, but the impropriety of the epilogue sent me away dissatisfied with it, and with human nature tob : and you only see, by this one instance, what a character that of an actor or actress is, and how capable they are to personate any thing for a sorry subsistence." - " Well, but, Sir," said I, " are there not, think you, extravagant scenes and characters enough in most plays to justify the censures of the virtuous upon them, that the wicked friend of the author must crown the work iu an epilogue, for fear the audience should go away improved by the representation ? It is not, I see, always narrowness of spirit, as I have heard some say, that opens the mouths of good people against these diversions." In this wild way talked I ; for I was quite out of patience at this unna- tural and unexpected piece of ridicule, tacked to so serious a play, and coming after such a moral. Here is a specimen, my dear lady, of my observations on the first play I saw. How just, or how impertinent, I must leave to your better judg- ment. I very probably expose my ignorance and folly in them, but I will not say, presumption, because you have put me upon the task, which otherwise I should hardly have attempted. I have very little reason there- fore to blame myself on this score ; but, on the contrary, if I can escape your ladyship's censure, have cause to pride myself in the opportunity you have thereby given me to shew my readiness to obey you ; and the rather, since I am sure of your kindest indulgence, now you have given me leave to style myself, your ladyship's obliged sister, and humble servant, P. B. PAMELA. 669 Mrs. B.'s Critique on the lender Husband. LETTER XLVIII. MV DEAR LADY, I GAVE you in my last my bold remarks upon a Tragedy The Dis- tressed Mother. I will now give you my shallow notions of a Comedy The Tender Husband. I liked this part of the title ; though I was not pleased with the other, explanatory of it ; Or The Accomplished Fools. But when I heard it was written by Sir Richard Steele, and that Mr. Addison had given some hints towards it, if not some characters " O dear Sir," said 1, " give us your company to this play ; for the authors of the Spectator cannot possibly produce a faulty scene." B Mr. B. indeed smiled; for I had not then read the play : and the Earl of F. his countess, Miss Damford, Mr. B. and myself, agreed to .meet with a niece of my lord's in the stage-box, which was taken on purpose. There seem to me to be much wit and satire in the play : but, upon my word, I was grievously disappointed as to the morality of it ; nor, in some places, is probability preserved ; and there are divers speeches so very free, that I could not have expected to meet with such, from the names I mentioned. I should be afraid of being censured for my presumption, were I writing to any body less indulgent to me than your ladyship. But to you I will make no apologies. Let me see, then, can I give you ihe brief history of this comedy, as I did of the tragedy ? I profess I hardly know whether I can or not ; at least, whether I should or not. But I'll try. The tender husband, Mr. f.'lerimont, has for his wife a lady who has travelled, and is far gone in all the French fashions : " She brought me," says he, " a "noble fortune ; and I thought she had a right to share it ; therefore carried her to see the world, forsooth, and make the tour of France and Italy, where she learned to lose her money gracefully, to admire every vanity in our sex, and contemn every virtue in her own; which, with ten thousand other perfections, are the ordinary improve- ments of a travelled lady." Tender as the husband was to be supposed to the wife, which, by the way, is not extremely apparent, in proper or right instances of tender- ness, I presume to think, he shews no great politeness to the sex in gene- ral, in tin- speech ; and the poet will be the less excusable fjr it, if lie has not drawn a general character of travelled ladies ; and much less still ii it shall appear, that that of Mrs. Clrrimont, on which this general reflection i- founded, is carried beyond nature and probability too. But what is the method the tender hu->hand takes to reclaim the lady ? Why this : he sets a former mistress of his own to work, in man's dotues to insnare htr : and thus he declares himst.lf, " Now I can neither 670 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Critigne on the Tender Husband. mortify her vanity, that I may live at case with her, nor quite discard her, till I have eatcheil her a little enlarging her innocent freedoms, as she calls them. For this end I am dun tent to lie a French husband, though now and then with the secret pangs of an Italian one ; and therefore, Sir, or Madam" (to his mistress Lucy, under the name of Mr. Fainlove, in the dress of a young coxcomb) " you are thus equipped to attend and accost her ladyship." A speed) unnecessary to Fainlove, who was dressed before for that purpose, and had actually won money, in that character, of Mrs. Clerimont. But the poet had no other way to let the audience know it, as it should seem " It concerns you," continues he, " to be dili- gent : if we" (i. e. himself and his lady) " wholly part I need say no more ; if we do not I'll see thee well provided for." Here's a fine moral scene opened, my lady, with regard to Mr. Cleri- mont, his lady, and his kept mistress. Mr. Fainlove, aiias Mrs. Lucy, undertakes the task, in hopes to live with Mr. Clerimont, in case of a divorce from his wife ; or to be provided for, in case the plot does not succeed ; which makes sit apparent, that to say nothing of his morality, poor Lucy had not met with a generous man in Mr. Clerimont, since, after the forfeiture of her honour, she was still to do a more infamous job, if possible, to procure for herself a provision from him. Then Mr. Clerimont proceeds to instruct the new-made man how to behave like a coxcomb, in order to engage his lady's attention, and to join in all her foibles, till she can furnish him with an opportunity to detect them in such a way as shall give a pretence for a divorce ; and this he does in such free language and action, as must disgust any modest per- son cf either sex. Then the poet causes this faithful mistress, in order to make her cha- racter shine above that of the wife, and indeed above his own likewise, to present her employer with bills for 5001. which she tells him she won of his wife the preceding night, and makes up 20001. which Mr. Clerimont says, tills unprovided for mistress of his has won from his lady, and ho- nestly given him : or else he could not he owns, have supplied her gaming losses. And Lucy declares, she will gain him for ever from his lady, if she can , yet you'll se:;, it is not love to his particular person, more than any other, that is Lucy's inducement : of course then it must be wicked- ness for wickedness' sake ! The next character is Captain Clerimont, brother to the other gentle- man, a man of fashion and of the world, who being a younger brother, has his fortune to make ; and we shall see presently how he proposes to make it. The next is Pounce, an infamous jobber or broker of stocks, marriages, or any thing, whose character b pleased to take in his own words : PAMELA. 671 Mrs. B.'s Critique on ihe Tender Husband. . ! * . irrr " Now 'tis my profession to assist a free-hearted young fellow against an unnatural long-lived father ; to disineumber men of pleasure of the vex- ation of unwieldy estates ; to support a feeble title to an inheritance !" One that Mr. Clerimont say9, by way of praise, he has seen prompting a stammering witness in Westminster Hall, that wanted instruction ; and could venture his ears with great bravery for his friend. A worse character than this can there be ? Yet is it iiqt produced to be punished, neither. The next person introduced is Hezekiah Tipkiu, a banker in Lombard Street, of an infamous and sordid character, and a vile usurer ; who has a beautiful niece, Miss Bridget Tipkin, overrun with affectation and ro- mance, with a great fortune in money, which so attracts the captain, that fie supposes, in a sordid, but witty manner enough, all imaginable perfec- tions in her person, before he has a sight of it. By a treaty between her uncle Tipkin and Sir Harry Gubbin, a tyrannical, positive, hot-beaded country gentleman, Miss Bridget is designed to be married to Humphrej - , the son of Sir Harry, a creature so savage, rougb, and stupid, that there cannot be drawn a stronger contrast than between his character and her's. Mr. Pounce, who is employed as a broker in their match, is, for a reward of 1000k to cheat them and poor Humphrey, and to procure this young lady for Captain Clerimont. Admirable justice and morality, aJl around ! you'll say, my lady. For this purpose, it was necessary for Mr. "Pounce to find Mr. Humphrey so great a fool, that, though he never saw him before, he easily sets him against bis father, and his cousin Bridget ; and all this on the wedding-day, in ordej- to induce him to make court to a person he tells hint of, but never saw, who proves to be the sister of Fainlove, Clerimont's man-dressed cast-off mistress, which sister, .how- ever, was to be Fainlove, or Lucy herself, with a worthy intent to impose her upon poor Humphrey as a wife. A just, a generous, an exemplary [dot this ! The next character is an old maiden gentlewoman, aunt to Miss Bridget, an antiquated virgin, who, as Pounce say;, has a mighty affectation for youth, and is a great lover of men and money ; and she is set over her niece as a promoter of tin- match with Humphrey. Over this lady Mr. Pounce has a great ascendant, half for sordid reasons, and half for amo- rous ones ; and she makes a thorough ridiculous ajud improbable charac- ter. Pounce introduces Captain Clerimont into the company of the aunt and her niece ; and entertains the form* r, while Die captain engages the latter on the subject of her beloved romance. These, with Mrs. Cleri- nuunC's maid Jenny, are the principal characters. Mr. Clerimont, after hearing from his wife what hardly any gentleman Cutild i'ear, surprises Fainlove as a wan and a scry wicked scene it is in 072 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Critique on the Tender Husband. every part) taking shocking freedoms with her ; and falling into a feigned rage, threatens to kill Fainlove : the lady at first menaces, and is haughty and arrogant ; but finding by her husband's behaviour to Lucy, whom he then addresses with fondness before her face, that she is tricked by a woman in man's habit, in her turn would kill the imposter as Lucy, whom as Fainlove she tried to save ; and a scene on this occasion occurs, to my thinking, very ridiculous. Mr. Clerimont then upbraids hei* with her guilt; and, what was hardly ever known in nature, she reforms instantly on the spot, and expresses all the signs of contrition imaginable. He for- gives and receives her, guilty as she is in her intention, her person only untainted, and an adultress in her mind, as she would have been in fact, had Fainlove been a man ; and a moving scene, had it been from proper motives, follows. Yet, still more preposterous (excuse me, Madam) she afterward resumes all her travelled and nonsensical airs, all her improba- ble follies to help to support the plot in favour of Captain Clerimont upon Miss Bridget, and the infamous one of Pounce's and Mr. Clerimont's against poor Humphrey, the only innocent character in the play, and the only suffering one : and this latter, as well as the former plot, being brought about, a laughing scene is produced, by Sir Harry's soundly cudgelling his stupid son, for permitting himself to be so foolishly drawn in. / Now, my good lady, can you see one character (and, I think, I have given them justly) fit to be set up for an example in this celebrated play of an author so celebrated? I must own, as 1 said before, I was greatly disappointed in my expectations of it. There is, indeed, a great deal of Sprightly wit, and knowledge of the wicked part of the world displayed in it, as it seems to me, by what I have heard Mr. B. talk sometimes ; but there is not one character in it but what is shockingly immoral, and, at the same time, either above or below nature ; so that the ridicule which is intended in it, on the bad characters, cannot, in my poor opinion, be just or efficacious. For, first, there never, I believe, could be a gentleman so foolishly ten- der, yet so plotting]}' cruel, to his lady, as Mr. Clerimont. There never could be such a very fantastical lady as Mrs. Clerimont. And there is such an improbability in the intimate access, which Lucy in man's clothes has to her ; in that creature's lewd views, yet faithful and generous conduct, in giving back to Clerimont, who had not provided for her, 20001. won on the fantastical lady; and yet in her being so little deli- cate in her love to Clerimont, which one would expect should be her motive, as to join to trick and marry one of the greatest fools in the world ; that it was surprising to me, that it would pass either author or audience. PAMELA. 673 Mrs. B.'s Critique on the Tender Husband. Then Tipkin's character is unnaturally, stupidly, yet knavishly bad. Sir Harry Gubbin is a father who never could have his fellow ; and after furiously beating his son, is reconciled to his marriage, as instantly as Mrs. Clerimont is converted ; and that to an unknown person, who appears to him in man's clothes, for the sake of three thousand pounds fortune only, although he had been quarrelling with Tipkin about one thousand pounds, which he would not give up, out of ten thousand pounds, which his son was to have had with Bridget. Numps, his son, is a character, take it altogether, quite out of nature and probability : 'tis hardly possible that a savage brought up in a wood, who never conversed with a man or woman, could be so stupid ; and easily might a poet form a plot for a play, if such a character could be admitted as Numps's. The aunt is credulous and affected beyond probability also. Miss Bridget delicately indelicate in many places, and improbably fan- tastic in all. Pounce shamelessly glorying, and succeeding in his villany, and deem- ing the imputation of the worst of rogueries to him as a panegyric : and such immoralities, mingled with obscenities, all through, that I was glad when the play was over. But yet, to say truth, there are very p r etty descriptions, and a great deal of wit and humour in it. The dialogue is lively ; the painter's scene entertaining; and that between Sir Harry and Tipkin diverting, though low ; which, together with the fantastic airs of Mrs. Clerimont, and Miss Bridget, and the farcical humours of Nunips, make it the less wonder, that such as did not attend to nature, probability, and morality, were struck with the life and spirit of the performance ; and especially as Mr. Wilks, who acted Captain Clerimont, and Mrs. Oldlield, who acted Miss Bridget, so incomparably performed their parts, as must have saved a play even of a worse tendency than the Accomplished Fools. The moral I will transcribe, although, I doubt, it is a very inapplicable one to the characters ; and so is far from making amends for a long per- formance, that in such a variety of characters lias not one moral one in it ; nor, indeed, is there so much as one just or generous design pursued throughout the play : " You've seen th' extremes of the domestic life, A son too much confin'd too free a wife. By generous bonds yu either should restrain, And only on their inclination gain." This I call inapplicable, because it was needless advice to such hus- bands as Mr. Clerimont, for whom it seems designed ; for Imj was genc- b 22 v y 674 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'i Critique on the Distressed JMother. rous to excess, carrying her abroad to Italy and France, and paying all her debts of honour implicitly : whence the name of the play, llie Tender Husband. " Wives to obey must love " Clerimont did every thing 1 to make a grateful woman love him, before his strange plot to reclaim her. "Children revere, While only slaves are govern'd by their fear." Mrs. Clerimont was not treated like a slave, yet is reclaimed only by fear. So, that the moral seems to be calculated for the Nuuips's (the fools and idiots) and the Sir Harries ; two characters, that, as I humbly apprehend, never were in nature, any more, it is to be hoped, than are the rest. In short, the author seems to have forgotten the moral all the way ; and being put in mind of it by some kind friend (Mr. Addison, perhaps) was at a loss to draw one from such characters and plots as he had pro- duced ; and so put down what came uppermost, for the sake of custom, without much regard to propriety. And truly, I should think, that the play was begun with a design to draw more amiable characters, answera- ble to the title of the Tender Husband ,- but that the author, being carried away by the luxuriancy of a genius, which he had not the heart to prune, on a general survey of the whole, distrusting the propriety of that title, added the under one ; with an or, The Accomplished Fools, in justice to his piece, and compliment to his audience. Had he called it Tlie Accom- plished Knaves, I would not have been angry at him, because there would have been more propriety in the title. I wish I could, for the sake of the authors, have praised every scene of this play : I hoped to have reason for it. Judge then, my dear lady, my mortification, not to be able to say I liked above one, the painter's scene, which too was out of time, being on the wedding-day ; and am forced to disapprove of every character in it, and the views of every one. I am, dear Madam, your most obliged sister and servant, P. B. LETTER XLIX. WELL, now, my dear lady, I will give you my poor opinion of a mas- querade, to which Mr. B. persuaded me to accompany Miss Darnford ; for, as I hinted in my former, I had a great indifference, or rather dislike, to go, and Miss therefore wanted so powerful a second, to get me witli her ; because I was afraid the freedoms which I had heard were used tlu r;j would not be very agreeable to my apprehensive temper, at this time especially. But finding Mr. B. chose to have me go, if, as he was pleased to say, I PAMELA. 675 Mrs. B.'s Description of a Ma=queraiic. had no objection, " I said, I will have none, I can have none, when you tell me it is your choice ; and so send for the habits you like, and that you would have me appear in, and I will cheerfully attend you." The habit Mr. B. pitched upon was that of a Spanish Don, and it well befitted the majesty of his person and air ; and Miss Darnford chose that of a young Widow ; and Mr. L>. recommended that of a Quaker for me. We all admired one another in our dresses ; and Mr. B. promising to have me always in bis eye, we went thither. f But I never deire to be present at another. Mr. B. was singled out by a bold Nun, who talked Italian to him with such free airs, that I did not much like it, though I knew not what she said ; for I thought the dear gentleman no more kept to his Spanish gravity, than she to the requi- sites of the habit she wore ; when 1 had imagined, that all that was tole- rable in a masquerade, was the acting up to the character each person assumed : and this gave me no objection to the Quaker's dress ; for I thought I was prim enough for that naturally. I -aid softly, " Dear Miss Darnford" (for Mr. B. and the Xun were out of sicjiit in a moment) " what is become of that Nun?" "Rather," whispered she, " what is become of the Spaniard?" A Cardinal attacked me instantly in Fr nch : but I answered in Eng- lish, not knowing what he said, " Quakers are not lit company for Red-hats." " '1 hey are," said he, in the same language ; " for a Quaker and a Jesuit is the same thing." Miss Darnford was addressed by the name of the Sprightly Widow : another ashed, how long she intended to wear 'h > And a foot- man, in a rich livery, answered for her eye-, through her mask, that it would not be a mouth. But 1 was startled when a Presbyterian Parson came up, and bid mn look aft ei- my Musidorus So that 1 doubted not by this it must be one who knew my name to be Pamela ; and 1 ,oon thought of one of my law- yers, whose characters I :; ive I el' re. Indeed, he needed not to bill uie ; fori was sorrv, on more accounts than that of my linioroti-iie -, to have lo i sight of him. "Out upon nast) masquerades'." thon-hl I ; " I raH'l abide them already'." An egregious beauish appearance came up to'Miis, and said, " Y.i.i hang out a \ i rv , . '' ' > ." " Not," replied -If, " to invite such fop, as you to in-.' \h " " Any custom) r would be welcome," returned hi , " in n , oj inion. I whisper this as a secret ." "And I whisper another," said she, hut nol -.vhisperingly, " that no place warrants ill maimer*." v v 2 676 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Description ol" a Masquerade. " Are you angry, Widow ?" She affected a laugh : " No, indeed, it i'n't worth while." He turned to me and I was afraid of some such hit as he gave me : " I hope, friend, thou art prepared with a father for the light within thee ?"" " Is this wit ?" said I, turning to Miss Darnford : " I have enough of this diverson, where nothing but coarse jests appear barefaced. At last Mr. B. accosted us, as if he had not known us. " So lovely a widow, and so sweet a friend ! no wonder you do not separate ; for I see not in this various assembly a third person of your sex fit to join with you." " Not one, Sir!" said I. " Will not a penitent Nun make a good third with a mournful Widow, and a prim Quaker,'" " Not for more uian ten minutes at most." Instantly the Nun, a fine person of a lady, with a noble air, though I did not like her, joined us, and spoke in Italian something very free, as it seemed by her manner, and Mr. B.'s smiling answer ; but neither Mis* Darnford nor I understood that language, and Mr. B. would not explain it to us. But she gave him a signal to follow her, seeming to be much taken with his person and air; for though there were three other Spanish habits there, he was called The stately Spaniard by one, The handsome Spaniard, by another, in our hearing, as he passed with us to the dessert, where we drank each of us a glass o_f Champaign, and eat a few sweetmeats, with a crowd about us ; but we appeared not to know one another : while seve- ral odd appearances, as one Indian Prince, one Chinese Mandarin, several Dominos, of both sexes, a Dutch Skipper, a Jewish Rabbi, a Greek Monk, a Harlequin, a Turkish Bashaw, and Capuchin Friar, glided by us, as we returned into company, signifying that we were strangers to them, by squeaking out ' I know you !" Which is half the wit of the place. Mr. B. had more attacks made upon him by ladies than we had by gentlemen ; and his fine person, noble air, and a deportment so suited to his habit (oaly in the encounter of the Nun, when he had more of the French freedom, as I thought, than the Spanish gravity) made him many admirers ; and more, when the Spanish Minister, who was there, in a French dress, spoke to him in Spanish, and received a polite answer from him in the same ; while there were several who personated foreign .cha- racters, and knew nothing of the language of the country whose habits they assumed. There were divers antic figures, some with caps and bells, one dressed like a punch ; several harlequins, and other ludicrous forms, that jumped and ran about like mad, and seemed as if they would have it thought that all their wit lay in their heels. Two ladies, one in a very fantastic party-coloured habit, with a plume ",,;,.,/ /.,. tv Jf**"'" **'"-""' PAMELA. 677 T~i " ' r . " ' " ' " ^ Mrs. B.'s Description of a Masquerade. of feathers, the other in a rustic one, with a garland of flowers round her head, were much taken notice of for their freedom, and having something to say to every body. They were as seldom separated as Miss Darnford and I, and were followed by a crowd wherever they went. The party-coloured one came up to me : " Friend," said she, " there is something in thy person that attracts every one's notice : but if a sack had not been a profane thing, it would have become thee almost as well." " I thank thee, friend," said 1, " for thy counsel, but if thou hadst been pleased to look at home, thou wouldst not have taken so much pains to join such advice and such an appearance together, as thou makesi !" This made even' one that heard it laugh One-said, the butterfly bath met with her match. She returned, with an affected laugh, " Smartly said ! But art thou came hither, friend, to make thy light shine before men or women ?" " Verily, friend, neither," replied I: "but out of mere curiosity, to look into the minds of both sexes ; which I read in their dresses." '* A general satire on the as?emble, by the mass !" said a fat Monk. The Nun whisked to us " We're all concerned in my friend's remark." " And no disgrace to a fair Nun,' returned I, " if her behaviour answer her dress Nor to a reverend Friar," turning to the Monk, " if his mind be not a discredit to his appearance Nor yet to a Country-girl," turning to the party-coloured lady's companion, " if she has not weeds in her heart to disgraee the flowers on her head." An odd figure, representing a Merry Andrew, took my hand, and said, I had the most piquant wit he had met with that night : ' And, friend," said he, " let us be better acquainted !" " Forbear," said I, withdrawing my hand ; " not a companion for a Jack-pudding, neither !" A Roman Senator just then accosted Miss Darnford : and Mr. B. seeing me so much engaged, " 'Twere hard," said he, " if our nation, in spite of Cervantes, produced not one cavalier to protect a fair lady thus sur- rounded." " Though surrounded, not distressed, my good knight-errant," said the Nun : " the fair Quaker will be too hard for half-a-dozen antagonists, and wants not your protection : but your poor Nun bespeaks it," whis- pered she, " who has not a word to say for herself." Mr. B. answered her in Italian (I wish I understood Italian !} and she had recourse to her beads. You can't imagine, Madam, how this Nun haunted him ! I don't like these masquerades at all. Many ladies, on these occasion?, are so very free, that the censorious will be apt to blame the whole sex for their con- Y v 3 678 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Opinion upon Ma-queia:tes. duct and to say, their hearts are as faulty as those of the most culpable men, since they scruple not to shew as much, when they think they can- not be known by their faces. But it is my humble opinion, that could a standard be fixed, by which one could determine readily what is, and what is not wit, decency would not be so often wounded, by attempts to be witty, as it is. For here every one, who can say things that shock a modester person, not meeting with due rebuke, but perhaps a smile (with- out considering whether it be of contempt or approbation) mistakes courage tor wit ; and every thing sacred or civil becomes the subject of his frothy, jest. How else can one account for the liberties of expression and beha- viour taken by some of those who personated bishops, cardinals, priests, nuns, &c. ? lor the freest things I heard said, were from persons in those habits ; who behaved with so much levity and indecorum, as if they were resolved, as much as in them lay, to throw those venerable characters into ridicule, only because they are generally deemed venerable ; but if it was once determined, that nothing should be called true wit, as nothing certainly ought, but what will stand the test of examination, and is con- sistent with decency and good manners, and what will make an innocent heart brilliant and cheerful, and give its sanction to the happy expres- sion, by trying to keep up and return the ball in like virtuous and lively raillery, then our public entertainments would be such as the most scru- pulous might join to countenance and appiaud. But what a moralizer am I ', will your ladyship say : indeed I can't help it ; and especially on such a subject as a masquerade, which I dislike more than any thing I ever saw. 1 could say a great deal more on this occasion; but, upon my word, I am quite out of humour with it: for I liked my English Mr. B. better than my Spaniard : and the Nun I ap- proved not by any means ; though there were some who observed, that she was one of the araeefullest figures in the place. And, indeed, in spite of my own heart, I could not help thinking so too. Your ladyship knows so well what 'masquerades are, that I may well be id saving .:,;. thin;* further on a subject I am so little pleased with ; for you only desire my notions of those diversions, because I am a novice in them ; ami this, J dou! i not, will doubly serve to answer that purpose. I sba'tl only therefore add, that after a hundred other impertinences, spoken to Miss Darn ford and me, and retorted with spirit by her, and as veil as 1 could by myself, quite sick of the place, I feigned to be more in- disposed than I was, and so got my beloved Spaniard to go off with us, and reached home by three in the morning. And so much for masquerades. I hope I shall never have occasion to mention thtm again to your ladyship. I am, my dearest .Madam, your ever obliged sister and servant, P. B. PAMELA. 679 Letter from Mrs. R. to Lady Daver?. LETTER L. MY DEAREST LADY, MY mitul is so wholly engrossed by thoughts of a very different nature from those which the diversions of the lown and theatres inspire, that I beg to he excused, if, for the present, I say nothing further of those lighter matters. But as you do riot disapprove of my remarks, I intend, if God spares my life, to make a little book, which I will present to your ladyship, of my poor observations on all the dramatic entertainments I have seen, and shall see, this winter : and lor this purpose I have made brief notes in the margin of the printed plays I have bought, as 1 saw them, with a pencil ; by referring to which, as helps to my memory, i shall be able to state what my thoughts were at the time of seeing them pretty nearly with the same advantage, as if I had written them at my return from each. I have obtained Sir Simon and Lady Darnford's permission for Miss to stay with me till it shall be seen how iKwill please God to deal with me, and I owe this favour partly to a kind letter written in my behalf to Sir Simon by Mr. 15. and partly to the young lady's earnest request to her papa, to oblige me ; Sir Simon having made some difficulty to comply, as Mr. Murray and his bride have left them, saying, he could' not live long, if he had not the company of his beloved daughter. I cannot but say, I have many more anxieties and apprehensions than perhaps I ought to have, on the approaching occasion : but I was always a sad coward, and too thoughtful a good deal : but I have so much to lose ; such a husband to part with, if I must part with him ; such generous friends and lovers, as I may say, of both sexes; and then tlie circumstance itself has so many tenors to an apprehensive mind attending it, that I am out of breath sometimes at the thoughts of it, and want to run away from myself, if I could. But it cannot be ! ami when I charge my mind with the reflection-, which religion inspires, and ask myself who it was that gave me all these blessings, and who \i is that has a right to reeal them, if he pleases, .mil when, and in ichal ivm/ he pleases ? and that if I leave them not now, 1 must bt> separated from them another day : I en- deavour to bring my mind t.o a resignation to the. Divine will. Hist, wh.it sh ill 1 say, when 1 find my frailty so much increased, that 1 cannot, with tie- same intensenrss of devotion I used to be blest with, apply myself to the throne of (.race, nor, ol eon .eeie n-e, find my invo- cations an.-.weied by thai delight and inward satisi'aeton, with which I u^ed to pit ase myself when the present near pro-,"t i v ;i more i. mote ? 1 hope I shall not be deserted in the hour of trial, and that this my weakness of mind will not be pun ishetl with a spiritual ilert lnt ion, for suf- fering myself to he too much attached to those worldly delights and plea* V V -1 680 PAMELA. Letter fiom T idy Davers to Mr. B. sures, which no mortal ever enjoyed in a more exalted degree than myself. And I beseech you, my dearest lady, let me be always remembered in your prayers only for a resignation to the Divine will ; a cheerful resignation! I presume not to prescribe to his gracious Providence ; for if one has but that, one has every thing that one need to have. Yet there is such a natural repugnance between life and death, that nature will shrink when one comes to the trial, let one have never so much fortitude at a distance. Yet, I hope, I may be forgiven ; for I comfort myself with the Divine exemplar, who prayed in bloody sweats for the bitter cup to be removed : hut gave us the example of resignation, that I am wishing to be able to follow : However, not mine, but thy will be done!" Forgive me, my dearest lady, for being so deeply serious. I have just been contending with a severe pang, that is now gone off; what effect its return may have, God only knows. And if this is the last line I shall ever write, it will be the more satisfactory to me, as (with humble respects to my good Lord Davers, and my dear countess, and praying for the con- tinuance of all your healths and happiness, both here and hereafter) I am permitted to subscribe myself your ladyship's obliged sister and humble servant, P. B. LETTER LI. From Ixtdy Davers to Mr. B. MY DEAREST BROTHER, ALTHOUGH I believe it needless to put a man of your generous spirit in mind of doing a worthy action ; yet, as I do not know whether you have thought of what I am going to hint to you, I cannot forbear a line or two with regard to the good old couple in Kent. I am sure, if, for our sins, God Almighty should take from us my in- comparable sister (forgive me, my dear brother, but to intimate what may he, although I hourly pray, as her trying minute approaches, that it will not) you will for her sake take care that her honest parents have not the loss of your favour, to deepen the inconsolable one they will have, in such a case, of the best of daughters. I say, I am sure you will do as generously hy them as ever ; and I dare say your sweet Pamela doubts it not : yet as you know how sensible she is of every favour done then., it is the countess's opinion and mine, and Lady Betty's too, that you give her this assurance, in some legal way ; for, as she is naturally apprehensive, and thinks more of her present circum- stance?, than, for your sake, she chooses to express to you, it will be like a cordial to her dutiful and grateful heart; and I do'not know, if it will not contribute, more than any one thing, to make her go through her task with ease and safety. I know how much you? heart is wrapped up in the dear creature : and PAMELA. 681 Letter from Mrs. B. to Mr. B. you are a worthy brother to let it be so ! You will excuse me therefore, I am sure, for this my officiousness. I have no doubt but God will spare her to us, because, although we may not be worthy of such excellence, yet we all now unite so gratefully to thank hint, for ich a worthy relation, that I hope we shall not be deprived of an exam so necessary to us ail. I can have t one fear, and that is, that, young as she is, she seems ripene-: for glory : she seems to have lived long enough for herself. But for yo - rul for us, that God will still spare her, shall be the hourly prayer of, my dt'ar worthy brother, your ever affectionate sister, B. Davf.rs. Have you got her mother with you ? I hope you have. God give you a son and heir, if it be his blessed will! But, however that be, preserv* your Pamela to you ! for you never can have such another wife. LETTER LI I. From Mrs. B. to Mr. B. MY DF.AR AND EVER-HONOURED MR. B. SINGE I know not how it may please God Almighty to dispose of me on the approaching occasion, I should think myself inexcusable, not to find one or two select hours to dedicate to you, out of the very many in the writing way which your goodness has indulged me, because you saw I took delight in it. But yet, think not, O best beloved of my heart! ^hat I have any boon to beg, any favour to ask, either for myself or for my friends, or so much as the continuance of your favour, to the one or the other. As to them, you have prevented and exceeded all my wishes : as to myself, if it please God to spare me, I know I shall always be rewarded beyond my desert, let my deservings be what they will. 1 have only therefore to acknowledge with the deepest sense of your goodness to me, and with the most heart affect- ing gratitude, that from the happy, the thrice happy hour, that you so generously made me yours, till this moment, you have not left me one thing, on my own part, to wish for, but the continuance and increase of your felicity, and that I might be still worthier of the unexampled goodness, tenderness, and condescension, therewith you have always treated inc. No, my dearest, my best beloved master, friend, husband, my first, my last, and only love ! believe me, I have nothing to wish for but your honour nnd felicity, temporal and denial ; and I make no doubt, that God, in his infinite goodness and mercy, will perfect his own good work, begun in your dear heart; and, whatever may now happen, tnve us a happy meet- ing never more to put from one another. For, although, as you were pleased to question t'other day, when resolving some of my doubts (and, 682 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Regulations in case of her Death. oh, what a sweet expositor have you been upon all occasions, on which my diffident mind led me to you for information and direction) whether the happiness of the blessed was not too exalted a happiness to be affected with the poor ties of relationship and sense, which now delight and attach so much to them our narrow minds and conceptions ; yet cannot I willingly give up the pleasing, the charming hope, that 1 shall one day rejoice, distinguishing!// rejoice in the society of my best beloved husband and friend, and in that of my dear parents : and I will encourage this dear hope, so consolatory to me in the separation which dearest friends must experience, so long as it can stand me in any stead ; and till I shall be all intellect, and above the soothing impressions now so agreeable to sense, and to conjugal and filial piety. Let me then beg of you, my dearest protector, to pardon ail my imper- fections and defects'; and if, ever since I have had the honour to be yours, I have in looks, or in word, or in died, given you cause to wish me other than I was, that you will kindly put it to the score of natural infirmity (for in thought or intention I can truly boast I have never wilfully erred.; Your tenderness, and generous politeness to nie, always gave me appre- hension, that I was not what you wished me to be, because you would not find fault with me so often as I fear I deserved : and this makes uie beg of you to do, as 1 hope God Almighty will, pardon all my involuntary errors and omissions. You have enabled rue, Sir, to do all the good to my poor neighbours, and to distressed objects, which was in my own heart to do ; and I hope I have so used the power you have generously entrusted me with, as to shew I bad a regard to your honour, and to the exigency of particular cases, without extravagance or vanity. But yet, as I must render some account of my stewardship, in relation to the large sums, you have put into my hands for charitable uses, you will find, my beloved master and best friend, your poor steward's accounts of every thing, in the cabinet that was my honoured lady's, till your goodness made it mine, in a vellum book, on the first leaf of which is written title page-wise " Humble Returns for Divine Mercies ; and you will see a balance struck down to this very day, and the little surplus in the grten purse upon the book. And if you will, Sir, perfect, by your generosity, the happiness of the casts I have marked with a star [thus*] which are such as are not fully recovered, and will be so good as to keep up my little school, I dare a=k no more ; for, Hiv dearest Mr. B. if I should be called from your service, to my new place, your next steward (and long, 1 hope, for your honourable family's sake, you will not be without one) may find out another and letter method fur your honour and her own, to dispense your bounty than that I have taken. The rich jewels and equipage, with which you generously adorned my PAMELA. 683 Regulations in case of her Deaih. unworthines-, will be found in the same cabinet in the private drawer: and if I may b<- pardoned for one extravagant wish (your circumstances, dear Sir, are very great ! and your future lady will not wear any thing that was mine) it is, that my dear Miss Darnford may be desired, as the eff> ct of your own goodness and generous consideration for my memory, to wtar the diamond necklace, which I know she admires, hut is far from wishing for it, or expecting it, if the neck that it was given to adorn, and to make more worthy of you, should be laid low by the irresistible Leveller. In the lowest drawer, on the left hand of the cabinet, you will find, Sir, all my unfinished scribble, with a little parcel, indorsed Mr. H. and P. Barlow. The title will surprise you ; but as I know not what may bap- pen to make doubts and puzzles in the affair mentioned in those papers, when I cannot explain them, I have given a brief history of it in writing, with his letter to me on the occasion ; and I humbly beg the whole may be kept within yoiw own breast, unless that vile affair, which has much disturbed uie, should be revived : although I have no reason to apprehend it will, because the poor girl, 1 hope, is sincerely penitent ; ami Mr. H. himself seems in another way of thinking as to her. ' Will you be pleased, Sir, to bestow on my dearest Miss Goodwin, as a remembrance of her aunt's true love, the diamond solitaire, and the second pair of ear-ring-.? Perhaps my dearest Lady Davers will not disdain to wear, is a present from her beloved brother, my best diamond ring. And if my tin t beloved, am! most valued ring of all, the dear first pledge of my happiness, were, for the first time 1 wa- honoured with it, by jour own putting it on, taken from my finger ami enamelled, it would be a mournful, y>-t a pleasing token for my p 'or mother, and a sweet memento of your bounty to them, and of your inexpressible goodness and favour to her poor daughter! Hut how I presume! and yet just now said, I had nothing to a-k ! Now I am, mi iw an - <> my -elf, upon t he sill ; i< i I of petitioning, how it would pleaiu ii.e, c.n.hl I know it, ii th< di ir child 1 have just named were ^i\en to the c m and ex impli of my e .ci llent Mi=s Darnford, if she would accept of the i ru>t, and if Lady Davi r- has no objection, and would not choose to taki i > > reti_\ -on! under her own wing. I had once a ^r< .t j 1 i-op m tin ho] ol having this dear child com- mitted to my care -Hut what pleasures have I not had crowded into il. is Hid this 1 i i- - t happy, thrice h ippy J ear even more than ino-t sex have had to boast of, and those not unhappy neither, in < Ion: life! Every day has brought with it some new h api i. ' -- '- u for as undeserved; lor, t) best beloved ,,f m\ i. fart, how have < always met me in vottr comings-in, left me at our goin; i-out, kUIimi 684 PAMELA. Mrs. IVs K filiations in c;tse of her Death. and complacency, the latter only distinguished from the former by a- kind regret, as the otlier was from that, by a joy next to transport, when all your dear generous heart appeared in your noble countenance, and set my faithful one into responsive flutters, to meet and receive it with all the grateful emotions that the chastest conjugal flame could inspire ! But I must not dwell upon these charming reflections I My present doubts will not permit me to indulge them ! For if I were how would my desires be rivetted to this earth ! With what regret should I transfer my thoughts to a still more important and necessary subject ! and with what ingratitude look up to a diviner, and still more noble Master, who ought to be the ultimate of all our wishes and desires, and who has given me you, my dearest Mr. B. and, with you, all that this world can make desi- rable I And has therefore a right to take away what he has given ! And if I now die, what a glory to me, to be permitted to discharge part of my obligations to the worthiest of gentlemen, by laying down my life in the service of his honourable family ! But let me say one word for my dear worthy Mrs. Jervis. Her care and fidelity will be very necessary for your affairs, dear Sir, while you remain single, which I hope will not be long. But, whenever you make a second choice, be pleased to allow her such an annuity as may make her inde- pendent, and pass away the remainder of her life with ease and comfort. And this I the rather presume to request, as my late honoured lady once intimated the same thing to you. If I were to name what this may be, it would not be with the thought of heightening, but of limiting rather, the natural bounty of your heart ; and fifty pounds a year would be a rich provision, in her opinion, and will entail upon you, dear Sir, the blessings of one of the faithfullest and worthiest hearts in the kingdom. Nor will Christian charity permit me to forget the once wicked, but now penitent Jevvkes. I understand by Miss Darnford, that she begs for no- thing but to have the pleasure of dying in your service, and by that means to atone for some small slips and mistakes in her accounts, which she had made formerly, as she accuses herself; for she will have it, that Mr. Longman has been better to her than she deserved, in passing one account particularly, to which he had, with too much reason, objected ; do, dear Sir, if your future happy lady has no great dislike to the poor woman, be pleased to grant her request, except her own mind should alter, and she desire her dismission : and be pleased to pre?ent her with my lit- tle book of select Devotions, with my notes in the interleaves : it is in the bottom drawer of the right hand, among my devotional Miscellanies : or rather, much rather, be pleased to order a copy of it to be made out for her, and to give the original, it being mostly in my own hand-writing, to my dear father. This is a better thought by much : for the dear good PAMELA. 685 Mrs. B.'s Regulations in case of her Death. man will esteem it the more for that. I wonder I did not think of this before. To the other servants, I have only to leave my thanks and best wishes, for their respectful love and dutiful behaviour to one, who, from being once hardly the equal to some of them, has been exalted to the honourable station of their mistress, by your superlative goodness and favour. No servants, my dear Mr. B. ever deserved a mistress's thanks, if your's do not ; for they, every one of them, most cheerfully came into all my little schemes and regulations : and they have encouraged me, by their ready obedience and their respectful loves, to pursue the natural dictates of my own heart, and have made pride as unnecessary, as it would have been grievous to me, and censurable by every one else : for was it not my high concern so to behave myself to all, low as well as high, that my best beloved benefactor should not, by my arrogance or inattention, have cen- surers of him added to enviers of me, for the step he had taken so dero- gatory to his own honour, and to that of his ancient and spit:. did family? To the favour of the best of masters I therefore leave them, with this testimony of their merits, and of my kind regard to call them, without one exception, from my silver-haired Jonathan to the lowest menial, the best set of servants that any gentleman ever had. Nor, by Miss Darn- ford's account of the behaviour of those at the hall, do I find them at all unworthy of being classed with these here, in the happy character. I have been not a little attentive to their respective behaviours, and have taken Mrs. Jervis's observations, as a help to my own, in this particular : because I thought it my duty to do so, as well in justice to your dear self, as to them. As to Polly Barlow, to whom I was willing' to behave with an eye to my dear good lady's kindness to myself, 1 have nothing to say by way of dis- tinction from the rest : having hinted to Mrs, Jervis to give her her advice, from time to time, and that if an honest husband should offer, she should advise the poor girl not to decline ir. Forgive me, dearest Sir, for thus mentioning to you, in this solemn letter, so particularly, your servants. Hut the pleasure which their regu- larity and worthiness hive given me, together with the knowledge I have of their fidelity and affectionate duty to you, methinks calls for this testi- mony of my satisfaction of them to your favour. And now I have to beg of God to shower down his most precious bles- sings upon yon, my dearest, my Jir.it, my last, and my only love ! and to return to you a hundred fold the benefits which you have conferred upon \\><- and mine, and upon so many poor souls, as you base bl< sse.l through my hands ! And that you may in your next choice 1>l happy with a lady, who may have ever\ thing I want; and who tuny love and honour you, 686 PAMELA'. liii.i from Miss I lam ford to Lady Dainforrf. with the same affectionate duty, which has been my delight and my glory lo {iay you : for in this I am sure, no one can exceed me '. And after hav- ing given you long life, prosperity, and increase of honour, translate you into a blessed eternity, where, through the merits of our common Redeemer, I hope I shall be allowed a place, and be permitted (oh, let me indulge that pleasing, that consolatory thought; to receive and rejoice in my restored spouse, for ever and ever ; are the prayers, the last prayers, if it so please God! of, my dearest dear Mr. B. your dutiful and ujfec- tlonale wife, and faithful servant, P. B. LETTER LIII. From Miss Darnford to Lady Darnford. MY HONOURED MAMMA, YOU cannot conceive how you and my dear papa have delighted my 0od Mrs. B. and obliged her Mr. B. by the permission you have given me to attend her till the important hour shall be over with her ; for she is exceedingly apprehensive, and one can hardly blame her ; since there is hardly such another happy couple in the world. I am glad to bear that the ceremony is over, so much to both your satis- factions ; may this matrimony be but a tenth part as happy as that 1 am witness to here ; and Mr. and Mrs. Murray will have that to boast of, which few married people have, even among those we call happy ! For my part, I believe 1 shall never care to marry at all ; for though I cannot be so deserving as Mrs. B. yet I shall not bear to think, of a husband much less excellent than hers. Nay, by what I see in her apprehensions, and conceive of the condition she hourly expects "to be in, I don't think a lady can be requited with a less worthy one, for all she is likely to suffer on a husband's account, and for the sake of his family and name. Mrs. Andrews, a discreet worthy soul as ever I knew, and who in her aspect and behaviour is far from being a disgrace even to Mr. B.'s lady, is with her dear daughter, to her no small satisfaction, as you may sup- pose, who now and then says, " What a foolish creature, my dear mother, have you for a daughter ! You did not behave so weakly as I do, when thus circumstanced, I daresay; and yet you had a dear good husband, though not a rich one, to hope to live for ! Bat, come, 1 will have a good heart, to make myself as worthy of the company and cheering of three such friends as I am blessed with in my mother, my Miss Darnford, and Mrs. Jervis." Mr. B. asked my advice yesterday, about having in the house a midwife, to be at bind, at a moment's warning. I said I feared the sight of such a person would terrify her : and so he instantly started an expedient, of which her mother, Mrs. Jervis, and myself, approved, and have put inte PAMELA. 6S7 Stratagem of Air. R. practice ; for, this day, Mrs. Harris, a distant relation of mine, though not of yours, Sic and Madam, is arrived from Essex to make me a visit; and Mr. [5. has prevailed upon her, in compliment to me, as he pretended, to accept of her board in his house, while she stays in town, which she says, willjje about a week. Mrs. Harris being 1 a discreet, modest, matron-like person, Mrs. B. took a liking to her at first sight, and is already very familiar with her ; and understanding that she was a doctor of physic's lady, and takes as much delight in admiiii ferine; to the health of her own sex, as her husband used to do to that of both, Mrs. 1>. says it is very fortunate that she has so experienced a lady to consult, as she is such a novice in her own case. Mr. B. however, to carry on the honest imposture better, just now, in presence of Mrs. Harris, and Mrs. Andrews, and me, asked the former, if it was not necessary to have in the house the good woman? This frighted Mrs. B. who turned pale, and said she could not-bear the thoughts of it. Mrs. Harris said it was highly necessary that Mrs. 15. if she would not permit the gentlewoman to be in the house, should see her ; and that then, she appn bended, there would be no necessity, as she did not live far off, to ha\e her in the hjiise, since Mrs. B. was so uneasy upon that account. This pleased Mrs. B. much, and Mrs. Thomas was admitted to attend her. Now, you must know, that this is the assistant of my new relation ; and she being apprised of the matter, came ; but never did I see so much hiness and apprehension as Mrs. 1?. shewed all tho time Mr. Thomas was with her, holding sometimes her mother, sometimes Mrs. Harris, by the hand, and being ready to faint with terror. Mrs. IHrrU scraped acquaintance with Mrs. Thomas, who, pretending to recoil' <", her, gave Mrs. Harris great praises ; which increased Mrs. IS.'s nc'" tohtr: and she undertakes to govern the whole so, that the (1 Mrs. Thomas need not come till the very moment : which is no small pleasure to the over nice lady. And she seems every hour to be better pleased with Mr-. H,:r;i-, who, by her prudent talk, will more and mon I ' r to the circumstance, unaw ares to herself in a manner. Hut notu i. h-taudiug this precaution of a midwife in the house, Mr. IJ. , the profession in readiness, for fear ol the wor-t. I till Mr. 15. he is \, ry happy in this stratagem ; but that, I suppose, he his liei n nmn u d to r< ntrivanei - of tin-- sort than he ought to have In ' n ; an 1 is to add, that I presumed Ins lady i- h.m'.h the first he has i heat, d into a child. And, indeed, I think, Mr-, li.'. merit to the rest of her -ex i- ven, irrcat, were it only in rel itch an un- commonly a:rrce;dile and mnnl\ rake as this; lor no doubt he has done, and would have done, a world of miscliie! among tiie thoughtless and 6SS PAMELA. Birth of a oon. indiscreet in tipp life ; for it seems, when he was at the worst, he never made the vulgar the subjects of his vile attempts. Mrs. B. has written a letter, with this superscription, "To the ever honoured and ever dear Mr. B. with prayers for his health, honour, and prosperity in this world, and everlasting felicity in that to come. P. B." It is sealed with black wax, and she gave it me this moment, on her being taken ill, to give to Mr. B. if she flies. But God, of his mercy, avert that ! and preserve the dear lady, for the honour of her sex, and the happiness of all who know her, and particularly for that of your Polly Darnford ; for I cannot have a greater loss, I am sure, while my honoured papa and mamma are living ; and may that be for many, very many, happy years ! I will not close this letter till all is over : happily, as I hope ! Mrs. B. is better again, and has, occasionally, made some fine reflections, directing herself to me, but designed for the benefit of her Polly, on the subject of the inconsideration of some of our sex, with regard to the circumstances she is in : inferring, that if such are her apprehensions, though a lawful wife, and such the danger attending this case, how must it leave a poor creature destitute of all spiritual consolation (as well as of the assistance and comfortings of the nearest friends, and of a kind husband) when she has sacrificed her honour, and cannot think of any thing so probable, as the moment approaches, but that God will punish her in kind, as she calk it ; that is to say, added she, by the very sufferings, which are the natural consequences of the sin she has so wickedly committed! I knew what her design was, and said, " Ay, Polly, let you and I, and every single young body, bear these reflections in mind, pronounced by so excellent a lady, in a moment so arduous as these !" The girl wept, and very movingly fell down by the door, on her knees, praying to Gon to preserve her dear lady, and she should be happy for ever < That, as Mrs. B. so often prettily writes, was her word. Mrs. B. is exceedingly pleased with my new relation, Mrs. Harris, as we call her, who behaves with so much prudence, that she suspects nothing, and told Mrs. Jervis, she wished nobody else was to come near her. And as she goes out (being a person of eminence in her way) two or three times a day, and last night staid out late, Mrs. B. said, she hoped she would not be abroad when sha should wish her to be at home. I have the very great pleasure, my dear papa and mamma, to acquaint vou, and I know you will rejoice with me upon it, that just half an hour ago my dear M rs - B. was brought to bed of a fine boy. We are all out of our wits for joy almost. I ran down to Mr. B. myself, who received me with trembling impatience. " A boy ! a fine boy! dear Mr. B." said I : " a son and heir, indeed '." " But how does my Pamela ? Is she safe ? Is she like to do well '." - PAMELA. 689 Joy at the Birth of the Son. " We hope so," said I : " or I bad not come down to you, I'll assure you." He folded me in his arms, in a .joyful rapture : " How happy you make me, clearest Miss Darnford ! If my Pamela is safe, the boy is welcome, welcome, indeed ! But when may I go up to thank my jewel ?" Mrs. Andrews is so overjoyed, and so thankful, that there is no getting her from her knees. A man and horse is dispatched already to Lady Davers, and another ordered to Kent, to the good old man. Mrs. Jervis, when I went up, said she must go down and release the good folks from their knees ; for, half an hour before, they declared they would not stir from that posture till they heard how it went with their lady ; and when the happy news was brought them of her safety, and of a young master, they were quite ecstatic, she says, in their joy, and not a dry eye among them, shaking hands, and congratulating one another, men and maids ; which made it one of the most affecting sights that can be imagined. And Mr. Longman, who had no power to leave the house for three days past (though*, business required his presence in Bedfordshire) hasted to congratulate his worthy principal ; and never was so much mov- ing joy seen, as this honest hearted steward ran over with. I cannot draw these affecting scenes of joy as Mrs. B. could have done, had she been in my case. Let me only say, I never saw such a family joy in my life : and who would care for royalty, or any of its pageantry, when virtue can thus interest every body in its concerns, and on such an occasion as this give that general and sincere joy to all within its circle, which could till a nation on the birth of a first-born prince from sovereigns the most beloved ? I did a foolish thing in my joy I gave Mr. B. the letter designed for him had ait unhappy event followed ; and he won't return it : but says, he will obtain Mrs. B.'s leave, when she is better, to open it; and th happier turn will augment his thankfulness to God, and love to her, when he shall, by this means, be blest with sentiments so different from what the other case would have afforded. But 1 will get it from him, if I can, and give it her back, for one knows not what it may contain ; yet her innocence and purity make one less apprehensive a good deal ; for, 1 dare say, she has no excuses in make for failings he knows nothing of. Mrs. B. had a very sharp time. Never more, my dear papa, talk of a husband to me. Indeed the mind I am in I will never be marded. l'lacu all your expectations on Nancy! Not one of these men that 1 have y< I seen, Mr. B. excepted (and you know what a chance it was that he wfitihl be so good) is worth running these risk^ for ! IV.it his endearments and tenderness to his lady, his thankful and manly gratitude and politeness, when he was admitted to pay his respects to her, and his behaviour to a 23 zz 690 PAMELA. The le uants present a christening Bason. I Mrs. Andrews, and to us all, though but for a visit of ten minutes, wis alone worthy of all her risk. I would give you a description of it, had I Mrs. B.'s pen, and of twenty agreeable scenes and conversations besides : but, for want of that, must conclude, with my humble duty, as becomes, honoured Sir, and Madam, your ever grateful , Polly Darnford. I have been three days writing this letter, piece by piece. LETTER LIV. From the same. MY HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA, WE have nothing but joy and festivity in this house : and it would be endless to tell you the congratulations the happy family receives every- day, from tenants and friends. Mr. B. you know, was always deemed one of the kindest landlords in England ; and his tenants are overjoyed at the happy event which has given them a young landlord of his name : for all those who live in that large part of the estate which came by Mrs. B. his mother, were much afraid of having ahy of Sir Jacob Swynford's family for their landlord, who, they say, are all made up of pride and cruelty, and would have racked them to death : insomuch that they had a volun- tary meeting of about twenty of the principal of them, to rejoice on the occasion ; and it was unanimously agreed to make a present of a piece of gilt plate, to serve as a bason for the christening, to the value of one hun- dred guineas ; on which is to be engraven the following inscription : " In acknoicledgment of the humanity and generosity of the best of land- lords, and as a token of his tenant's joy on the birth of a son and heir, who will, it is hoped, inherit his father's generosity , and his mother's virtues, this piece of plate is, with all due gratitude, presented, as a christening bason to all the children that shall proceed from such worthy parents, a?id their descendants, to the end of time. " By the obliged and joyful tenants of the maternal estate in Bedfordshire and Gloucestershire, the initials of whose names are under engraven, vix." Then are to follow the first letters of each person's christian and surname. What an honour is this to a landlord ! in my opinion very far sur- passing the misnomered free gifts which we read of in some kingdoms on extraordinary occasions, some of them like this ! For here it is all truly spontaneous A free gift b deed .' and Mr. B. took it very kindly, and has put off the christening fur a week, to give time for its being completed and inscribed as aboye. Such good tenants, such a 'rood wife, such blessings from Heaven fol- lowing him, uobody, 1 tell Mr, B. has so much encouragement to be good PAMELA. 691 Mr. B. returns the black sealed Letter. as he has ; and if hereafter he should swerve, he would not have the least excuse, and would he the ungratefullest man breathing. The Earl and Countess of C. and Lord and Lady Davers, are here, to stand in person at the christening ; and you cannot conceive how greatly my Lady Davers is transported with joy, to have a son and heir to the estate : she is, every hour almost, thanking her dear sister for him ; and reads in the child all the great qualities she forms to herself in him. 'Tis, indeed, a charming boy, and has a great deal (if one may judge of a child so very young) of his father's manly aspect. The dear lady herself is still but weak ; but the joy of all around her, and her spouse's tender- ness and politeness, give her cheerful and free spirits ; and she is all serenity, ease, and^hankfulness. Mrs. B. as soon as the danger was over, asked me for her letter with the black seal. I had been very earnest to get it from Mr. B. but to no pur- pose ; so I was forced to tell who bad it. She said, but very composedly, she was sorry for it, and hoped he had not opened it. He came into her chamber soon after, and I demanded it before her. He said, he had designed to ask her leave to break the seal, which he had not yet done ; nor would without her consent. " You will see nothing in it, Sir," said she, " but a grateful heart, a faithful love, and my prayers, that God will be as good to you, as you have been to me." " Will you give me leave, my clear," said he, " to break the seal ?" " If you do, Sir, let it not be in my presence ; but it is too serious." 4t Not, my dear, now the apprehension is so happily over : it may now add to my joy and my thankfulness on that account." " Then do as you please, Sir ; but I had rather you would not." " Then here it is, Miss Darnford : it was put into your hands, and there I place it again." " That's something like," said 1, " considering the gentleman. Mrs. B. I hope we shall bring him into good order between lis in time." So I returned it to the dear writer; who lifted up her eyes, and her lips moving, shewed a thankful ejaculation, that she was spared to receive it back again ; and put it into her bosom." I related to Lady Davers, when she came, this circumstance ; and she, I believe, has leave to take it with her. She is very proud of all op- portunities of justifying her brolht r's choice, and doing honour t" hi- iie, with Lady Betty (_'. who is her great favourite, and who delights to read Mr,. B.'s letters. You desire to know, my honoured papa, how Mr. B. passes Ins time, and whether it be in his lady's chamber? No, indeed '. (.';U.ch gentlemen, the best of them, in too great a complaisance that way, if you can. " What then, due* he pass his time with ynu, Fully ? you are pleased to z z 2 692 . PAMELA. ' s ' -- ---- ' , " Miss Darnford asks leave to rctaain in London for the Winter. ask. What a disadvantage a man lies under, who has been once a rake ! But I am so generally with Mrs. B. that when I tell you, Sir, his visits to her are much of the polite form, I believe I answer all you mean by your questions ; and especially when I remind you, Sir, that Lord and Lady Davers, and the Earl and Countess of C. and your unworthy daughter, are at dinner and supper time generally together ; for Mrs. Andrews, who is not yet gone back to Kent, breakfasts, dines, and sups with her beloved daughter, and is hardly out of her room. Then, Sir, Mr. B. t-he earl, and Lord Davers, give pretty constant at- tendance to the business of parliament ; and, now and then, sup abroad So, Sir, we are all upon honour ; aiid I could wish (only that your face- tiousness always gives me pleasure, as it is a token that you have your much desired health and freedom of spirits) that even in jest my mamma's daughter might pass unquestioned. But I know why you do it : it is only to put me out of heart to ask to stay longer. Yet I wish but I know you won't permit me to go through the whole winter here. Will my dear papa grant it, do you think, if you were to lay the highest obligation upon your dutiful daughter, and petition for me. And should you care to try ? I dare not hope it myself : but when one sees a gentleman here, who denies his lady nothing, it makes one wish, methinks, thai Lady Darnford, was as happy in that particular "as Lady B. Your indulgence lor this one winter, or, rather this small remainder of it, 1 make not so much doubt of, you see, Madam. I know you'll call me a bold girl ; but then you always, when you do, condescend to grant my request : and I will be as good as ever I can be afterwards. I will fetch up all the lest time ; rise an hour sooner in the morning, go to bed an hour later at night; flower my papa any thing he pleases ; read him to sleep when he pleases ; put his gout into good humour, when it will be soothed And Mrs. B. to crown all, will come down with me, by per- mission of her sovereign lord, who will attend her, you may be sure : and Will not all this do, to procure me a month or two more ? If it won't, why then, 1 will thank you for your past goodness to me, and with all duty and cheerfulness, bid adieu to this dear London, this dearer family, and attend a still dearer papa and mamma ; whose dutiful daughter I will ever be, whilst Polly Darnford. LETTER LV. To (he same. MY HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA, I HAVE received your joint commands, and intend to set out on Wed- nesday, next week. I hope to find my papa in better health than at pre- sent, and in better humour too ; for I am sorry he is displeased with my petitioning for a little longer time in London. It is very severe to impute PAMELA. 693 The Child christened. to me want of duty and affection, which would, if deserved, make me most unworthy of your favour. Mr. B. and his lady are resolved to accompany me in their coach, till your chariot meets me, if you will he pleased to permit it so to do ; and even set me down at your gate, if it did not ; but he vows, that he will neither alight at your house, nor let his lady. But I say, that this is a misplaced resentment, because I ought to think it a favour, that you have indulged ine so much as you have done. And yet even this is like- wise a favour on their side to me, because it is an instance of their fond- ness for your unworthy daughter's company. Mrs. B. is, if possible, more lovely since her lying-in than before. She has so much delight in her nursery, that I fear it will take her off from her pen, which will be a great loss to all whom she used to oblige with her correspondence. Indeed this new object of her care is a charming child : and she is exceedingly pleased with her nurse ; for she is not per- mitted, as she very much desired, to suckle it herself. She makes a great proficiency in the French and Italian languages ; and well she may ; for she has the best schoolmaster in the world, and one whom she loves better than any lady ever loved a tutor. He is lofty, and will not be disputed with ; but I never saw a more polite and tender husband, for all that ; and well may a lady, blessed as she is, bear with a little imperiousness sometimes; which, however, she nips in the bud, by hr sweetness of temper and ready compliance. But then he is a man of sense ; and a lady need be the les^. concerned to yield a point to a man of sense, and generosity, as he is ; who is incapable of treating her the worse for her resignation and complacency. Whenever 1 marry, it shall he to a man of sense, and a generous man, against the world ; for such an one cannot treat a woman ill, as Mrs. B. often observes. We had a splendid christening, exceedingly well ordered, and every body was highly delighted at it. The quality gossips went away but on Tuesday : and my Lady Davers took leave of her charming sister with all the blessings, and all the kindness, and affectionate fondness, that could be expressed. Mr. Andrews, that worthy old man, came up to see his grandson yes- terday. You would never have forgotten the good man's behaviour (had you seen it) to his daughter, and to the charming child : I wish I could describe it to you ; but I am apt to think Mrs. B. will notice it to Lady Davers ; and if she enters into the description of it while I stay, ! will beg a copy of it, to bring down with me ; because I know you were pleased with the sensible, plain, good man, and his ways, when at the hall in your neighbourhood. The child is named William, and 1 should have told you ; but I writ* /. 1 ;j 694 PAMELA. Miss Darnforrl's Snspicions of Mr. B._and tlie Countess Dowager. without any manner of connection, just as things come uppermost : but don't, my dear papa, construe this, too, as an instance of disrespect. I wish you were not so angry with me ; it makes me almost afraid to see you ! As I said, I shall set out next Wednesday ; and as we shall keep the main road, 1 shall see by my being met how I am to be received, or wbether pardoned or not. Mr. B. says, he will take me back again, if my dear papa frown at me ever so little ; and he will not deliver me up into any oilier hands but his, neither. We have been t several plays, and at the opera divers times ; for we make the best of our time, since it is so short ; and we feared how it would be ; though 1 hoped I should not have anger, neither. Mrs. B. is taken up between whiles with writing remarks upon the plays, &c. she sees, in a little book, for Lady Davers. She sent that lady her remarks upon one or two, with which she is so well pleased, that she will not let even her nursery excuse her from proceeding upon those subjects ; and this will so engross the dear lady's pen, that 1 shall not be favoured so much as I used to be ; but Lad\' Davers promises to lend me the book, when she has read it ; so that will be some satisfaction. I see but one thing that can possibly happen to disturb the felicity of this charming couple ; and that I will mention, in confidence. Mr. B. and Mrs B- and myself were at the masquerade, before she lay-in : there was a lady taken with Mr. B. She was in a nun's habit, and followed him wherever he went; and Mr. Turner, a gentleman of one of the inns of court, who visits Mr. B. and is an old acquaintance of his, tells me, by the by, that the" lady took an opportunity to unmask to Mr. B. Mr. Turner has since found she is the young Countess Dowager of , a iine lady ; but not the most reserved in her conduct of late, since her widowhood. And he has since discovered, as he says, that a letter or two, if not more, have passed between Mr. B. and that lady. Now Mrs. B. with all her perfections, has, as she owns, a little spice of jealousy ; and should she be once alarmed, I tremble for the consequence to both their happiness. I conceive, that if ever any thing makes a misunderstanding between them, it will be from some such quarter as this. But 'tis a thousand pities it should. And I hope, as to the actual correspondence begun, Mr. Turner is mistaken. But be it as it will, I would not for the world that the first bints of lh s matter should conic from me. Mr. B. is a very enterprising and gal- lant man, a fine figure, and I don't wonder a lady may like him. B.it he seems so pleased, so satisfied with his wife, and carries it to her with =o much tenderness and afn ..tion, that I hope her merit, and this his iiffection for her, will secure his conjugal fidelity. PAMELA. 695 Mr. and Mrs. B. accompany Miss Darn ford on her Return home. If it prove otherwise, and she discovers it, I know no one that would be more miserable than Mrs. B. as well from motives of piety and virtue, as from the excessive love she bears him. But I hope for better things, for both their sakes. My humble thanks for all your indulgence to me, with hopes that you will not, my dear papa and mamma, hold your displeasure against me, when I throw myself at your feet, as I now soon hope to do. Conclude me your dutiful daughter, P. Darnford. LETTER LVI. From Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAR LADY, WE are just returned from accompanying the worthy Miss Darnford as far as Bedford, in her way home, where her papa and mamma met her in their coach. Sir Simon put on his pleasant airs, and schooled Mr. B. for persuading his daughter to stay so long from him ; me for putting her upon asking to stay longer ; and she for being persuaded by us. I think he is worse than ever in his way of talk, and for my rebukes to him ; for he ran on a deal of stutF about me, and my late lying-in ; and would have it, that I am so much improved, I ought to make a curtsey to Mr. B. once an hour. He said, when I was angry at him, and his lady blamed him, that it was all pure revenge for my letter, and for keeping his daughter so long from him. We tarried two days together at Bedford ; for we knew not how to part ; and then we took a most affectionate leave of each other. We struck out of the road a little, to make a visit to the dear house, where we tarried one night ; and next morning, before any body could come to congratulate us (designing to be incog.) we proceeded on our journey to London, and found my dearest, dear boy, in charming health. What a new pleasure has God Almighty's goodness bestowed upon me ; which, after every little absence, rises upon me in a true maternal ten- derness, every step I move toward the dear little blessing! Vet some- times, I think your dear brother is not so fond of him as 1 wish him to be. He savs, 'tis time enough for him to mind him, when he can return bis notice, and be grateful ! A negligi nt word, i'n't it, Madam con- sidering My dear father came to town, to accompany my good mother down to Kent, and they set out soon after your ladyship left us. It is impossible to describe the joy with which his worthy heart overflowed, when he con- gratulated us on the happy event. And as he had hern apprehensive for his daughter's safety, judge, my lady, what his transports must be, to see us all safe and well, and happy, and a son given to Mr. B. by his greatly honoured daughter. z z 4 696 PAMELA. Joy of Mr. Andrews at seeing Mrs. V-. and her Boy. I was in the nursery when he came. So was my mother. Miss Darnford also was there. And Mr. B. who was in his closet, at his arrival, after having received his most respectful congratulations himself, brought him up (though he has not been there since : indeed he ha'n't.) " Pamela," said the dear gentlemen, " see who's here !" I sprang to him, and kneeled for his blessing: "O my father!" said I, " see" (pointing to the dear baby at the nurse's breast) " how God Almighty has answered all our prayers !" lie dropped down on his knees by me, clasping me in his indulgent arms : " O my daughter '. My blessed daughter ! And do I once more 6Ve you ! and see you safe and well ! 1 do ! I do ! Blessed be thy name, O gracious Gou, for these thy mercies !" While we were thus joined, happy father, and happy daughter, in one thanksgiving, the sweet baby having fallen asleep, the nurse had put it into the cradle ; and when my father rose from me, he went .to my mother, " God bless my dear Betty," said he, " I longed to see you, after this separation. Here's joy ! here's pleasure! O how happy are we!" And taking her hand, he kneeled down on one side the cradle, and my mother on the other, both looking at the dear baby, with eyes running over : and, hand in hand, he prayed, in the most fervent manner, for a blessing upon the dear infant, and that God Almighty would make him an honour to his father's family, and to his mother's virtue : and that, in the words of Scripture, he might grow on, and be in favour both with the Ij>rd, and with man." They both arose, and Mr. B. taking my hand, and Miss Darnford's (your ladyship may guess how we were moved ! for she is a sweet-natured lady, you know, Madam) " My dear Pamela! How these kind, these grateful hearts affect one! Do you often, my dear Miss Darnford, see scenes wrought up by the poets to this moving height ? Here we behold and admire that noble simplicity, in which Nature always triumphs over her handmaid Art ! And which makes a scene of joy as affecting to a noble mind as that of the deepest distress ! Else, how could it display its force thus sweetly on your lovely cheek !" Mr. B. has just put into my hands Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education, and he commands me to give him my thoughts upon it in writing. He has a very high regard for this author, and tells me, that my tenderness for Billy will make me think some of the first advice given in it a little harsh ; but although he has not read it through, only having dipped into it here and there, he believes, from the name of the author, I cannot have a better directory ; and my opinion of it, after I have well considered it, will inform him, he says, of my own capacity and prudence, and how far iie may rely upon both in the point of kjirst education. PAMELA, 697 i ' _ ' _ vlrs. B.'s Manner of imp oing her Study of Locke. I asked, if I might not be excused writing, only making my observa- tions, here and there, to himself, as I found occasion ? But he said, " You will yourself, my dear, better consider the subject, and be more a mistress of it, and I shall the better attend to your reasonings, when put into writing : and surely, Pamela, you may, in such an important point as this, as well oblige me with a little of your penmanship, as your other dear friends." After this, your ladyship will judge I had not another word to say. He cuts one to the heart when he speaks so seriously. I have looked a little into it. It is a book quite accomf,iodated to my case, being written to a gentleman, the author's friend, for the regulation of his conduct towards his children. But how shall I do, if in such a famed and renowned author, I see already some few things, which I think want clearing up ? Won't it look like intolerable vanity in me, to find fault with such a genius as Mr. Locke ? But I will consider of the matter thoroughly, before I set pen to paper; for, although he writes in a very familiar and intelligible style, perhaps I may not understand him at once reading. I must, on this occasion, give your ladyship the particulars of a short conversation between your brother and me ; which, however, perhaps, will not be to my advantage, because it will shew you what a teasing body I can be, if 1 am indulged. But Mr. B. will not spoil me neither in that way, I dare say! Your ladyship will see this in the very dialogue I shall give you. Thus it was. I had been reading in Mr. Locke's book, and Mr. B. asked me how I liked it. " Exceedingly well, Sir. But 1 have a proposal to make, which, if you will t- pleased to comply with, will give me a charming opportunity of understanding Mr. Locke." " What is your proposal, my dear ? I ^ee it is some very particular one, by that sweet earnestness in your look." " Why, so it is, Sir: and I must know, whether you are in high good humour, before 1 make it. I think you look grave upon me ; and my proposal will not then do, I'm sun." " You have all the amusing ways of jour sex, my dear Pamela. But tell me what you would say ? You know F don't love suspense." " May !)< you're busy, Sir. Perhaps I break in upon you. I believe you were going into your closi t." " True woman ? How you love to put one upon the tenters ! Yet, my life for your'-., by your parade, what 1 just now thought important, is some pretty trillc! Speak it at once, or I'll be angry with you ;" and tapped my check. " W'-ll, I wish I had not come just now ! 1 see you are not in a good humour enough for my proposal. So, pray, Sir, excuse me till to-morrow." 98 PAMELA. . ' ...... Mrs. B.'s Manner of improving her Study of Locke. He took my hand, and led ine to his closet, calling nie his pretty impertinent ; and then urging me, I said, " You know, Sir, I have not been used to the company of children. Your dear Billy will not make me fit, for a long time, to judge of, any part of education. I can learn of the charming boy nothing but the baby conduct : but now, if I might take into the house some little master of three or four years old, or miss of five or six, I should watch over all their little ways ; and now reading a chapter in the child, and now one in the book, I can look forward, and with advan- tage, into the subject ; and go through all the parts of education tolerably, for one of my capacity; for, Sir, I can, by my own defects, and what 1 have wished to mend, know how to judge of, and supply that part of life which carries a child up to eleven or twelve years of age, which was mine, when my lady took me." " A pretty thought, Pamela ! but tell me, who will part with their child, think you ? Would you, if it were your case, although ever so well assured of the advantages your little one would reap by it ? For don't you con- sider, that the child ought to be wholly subjected to your authority ? That its father or mother ought seldom to see it ; because it should think itself absolutely dependent upon you ? And where, my dear, will you meet with parents so resigned ? Besides, one would have the child descended of genteel parents, and not such as could do nothing for it ; otherwise the turn of mind and education you would give it, might do it more harm than good." " All this, Sir, is very true. But have you no other objection, if otie co'uld find a genteelly descended young master? And would you join h> persuade his papa to give me up his power, only from three months to three months, as I liked, and the child Uked, and as the papa approved of my proceedings ?" " This is so reasonable, with these last conditions, Pamela, that I should be pleased with your notion, if it could be put in practice, because the child would be benefited by your instruction, and you would be improved in an art, which I could wish to see you an adept in." " But, perh.ips, Sir, you had rather it were a girl than a boy ?" " I had, my dear, if a girl could be found, whose parents would give her up to you ; but 1 suppose you have some boy in your head, by your putting it upon that sex at first." " Let me see, Sir, you say you are in a good humour '. Let me see, if yon be ;" looking boldly in his face. " What now," with some little impatience, " would the pretty fool be at?" " Only, Sir, that you have nothing to do, but to speak the word, and there is a child, whose papa and mamma too, I am sure, would consent to give up to me, for my own instruction, as well as for her sake ; and if. PAMELA. 699 Mrs. B.'s wishes to have Jliss Goodwin. to speak in the Scripture phrase, I have found grace in your sight, kind Sir, speak this word to the dear child's papa." " And have you thus come over me, Pamela ! Go, I am half angry with you, for leading me on in this manner against myself. This looks so artful, that I won't love you !" " Dear Sir " " And dear Madam too ! Begone, I say ! You have surprised me by art, when your talent is nature, and you should keep to that !" I was sadly balked, and had neither power to go nor stay! At last seeing I had put him into a kind of flutter, as now he had put me, I moved my unwilling feet towards the door. He took a turn about the closet mean time. " Yet stay," said he, " there is something so generous in your art, that, on recollection, I cannot part with you." He took notice of the starting tear " I am to blame ! You had sur- prised me so, that my hasty temper got the better of my consideration. Let me kiss away this pearly fugitive. Forgive me, my dearest love ! What an inconsiderate brute am I, when compared to such an angel as my Pamela! I see at once now all the force and all the merit.of your ami- able generosity : and to make you amends for this my hastiness, I will coolly consider of the matter, and will either satisfy you by my compliance, or by the reasons which I will give for the contrary. " But say, my Pamela, can you forgive my rashness ?" " Can I ! Yes, indeed. Sir," pressing his hand to my lips ; " and bid me go, and be- gone, twenty times a day, if I am to be thus kindly called back to you, thus nobly and condescendingly treated, in the same breath ! I see, dear Sir," continued I, " that I must be in f.tulf, if ever you are lastingly displeased with me. For as soon as you turn yourself about, your anger vanishes, and you make me rich amends for a few harsh words. Only one tiling, dear Sir, let me add ; if I have dealt artfully with you, impute it to my fear of offending you, through the nature of my petition, aud not to design ; and that I took the example of the prophet, to King David, in the parable of the euc lamb." " I remember it, my dear and you have will pointed your parable, and had nothing to do but to say " Thou art Hi-j man!" I am called upon by my dear benefactor for a little airing, and he suffers me only to conclude this long 1< tter. So I am obliged, with greater abruptness than I had designed, to mention thankfully your ladyship's goodness to me ; particularly in that kind, kind letter, in behalf of my dear parents, had a certain event, taken place. Mr. IJ. shewed it to ine this morning, and not before I believe, for fear I should have been so much oppressed by the sense of your unmerited goodness to me, had he let me known of it before your departure from us, that I should not have been able to look up at you; heaping favours aud blessings upon me, 70d PAMELA. Letter from Lady Davers to Mrs, B. as you were hourly doing besides. What a happy creature am I ! But my gratitude runs me into length ; and sorry I am that I cannot have time just now to indulge it. But I sometimes doubt, whether I ought to think myself so very happy ; and whether it is not an argument of a mean spirit ; because I am under obligations, unretuniable obligations, to every living soul, as well as to your ladyship ; and yet can rejoice in them as if it was such a glorious thing, when it is not in one's power to oblige again. Is there nothing, my dear Lord and Lady Davcrs, my dear Lady Countess, and my good Lord C. that I can do, to shew, at least, that I have a will, and am not an ungrateful, sordid creature ? And yet, if you give me power to do any thing that will have the appearance of a return, even that power will be laying a fresh obligation upon me Which, however, I should be very proud of, because I should thereby convince you, by more than words, how much I am (most parti- cularly, my dearest Lady Davers, my sister, my friend, my patroness) your most obliged and faithful servant, P. B. Your dear brother joins in respectful thankfulness to his four noble gossips. And my Billy, by his lips, subscribed his. I hope so to direct his earliest notions, as to make him sensible of his dutiful obligation. LETTER LVI1. From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. MY DEAREST FAMELA, TALK not to us of unreturnable obligations, and all that. You do more for us, in the entertainment you give us all, by your letters, than we have done, or even can do, for you. And as to me, I know no greater pleasure in the world than that which my brother's felicity and your's gives me. God continue this felicity to you both. I am sure it will be his faults and not yours, if it be at all diminished. We have hpard some idle rumours here, as if you were a little uneasy of late; and having not had a letter from you for tiiis fortnight past, it makes me write, to ask how you all do ? and whether you expected an answer from me to your last ? I hope you won't be punctilious with me. For we have nothing to write about, except it be, how much we all love and honour you ; and that you believe already, or else you don't do us justice. I suppose you'll be going out of town soon, now the parliament is rising. My lord is resolved to put his proxy into another hand, and intends, I believe, to take my brother's advice in it. Both the earl and his lord- ship are highly pleased with my brother's moderate and independent prin- ciples. He has got great credit among all unprejudiced men, by the part PAMELA. 701 Mrs. B.'s Suspicions of Mr. B. and the Countess Dowager. he acted throughout the last session, in which he has shewn, that he would no more join to distress and clog the wheels of government, by an unrea- sonable opposition, than he would do the dirty work of any administration. As he has so noble a fortune, and wants nothing of any body, he would be doubly to blame, to take any other part than that of his country, jn which he has so great a stake. May he act out of the house and in the house with equal honour; and he will be his country's pride, and your pride, and mine too ! which is the wish of your affectionate sister, B. Davers. If you want a pretence to kiss my dear boy, give him, now and then, one for me. I hope he improves, under the eye of so careful a mamma ; the little rogue will else be unworthier than I wish him to be. I hope you proceed with my book. I must see your observations on Locke too. 'Twas a charming pretty thought of yours, that of Miss Goodwin. A hasty wretch ! How could he be angry ? 'Twas well he so soon considered of the matter, and asked pardon. LETTER LVIIT. MY DEAREST LADY, I HAVE been a little in disorder, that I have. Some few rubs have happened. I hope they will be happily removed. I am unwilling to be- lieve all that is said. Rut this is a wicked town. I wish we were out of it. Yet I see not when that will be. I wish Mr. B. would permit me and my Billy to go into Kent. But I don't care to leave him behind me, neither; and he is not inclined to go. Excuse my brevity, my dearest lady But 1 must break off, with only assuring your ladyship, that I am, and ever Will be, your obliged and graUful P. B. LETTER LIX. MY DEAREST PAMELA, 1 UNDERSTAND things go not so well as I wish. If you think my coming up to town, and residing with you, while you stay, will be of ser- vice, or help to -ret you out of it, I will set out directly. I will pretend nome indisposition, and a desire of consulting the London physicians ; or any thin;: you shall think fit to be done, by your affectionate sister, and faithful friend, B. Davers. LETTER LX. MY DEAREST LADY, A THOVS.VND thinks for your goodness to me ; but I hope all will In' well. I hope God will enable me to act so prudent a part, as will touch his generous breast. 15c pleased to tell me what your ladyship bas heard ; but it becomes not me, I think, till I cannot help it, to make any appeals; for I know those will not be excused ; and I do all I can to suppress my 702 PAMELA. Mrs. 15. 's Suspicions of Mr. B. and the Countess Dowager. uneasiness before him. But I pay- for it, when 1 am alone. My nursery, and my reliance on God (I should have said the latter first) are all my consolation. God preserve and bless you, my good lady, and my noble lord ! (but I am apt to think your ladyship's presence will not avail) prays your affectionate and obliged P. B. LETTER LXI. WHY does not my sweet girl subscribe sister, as usual ? I have done nothing amiss to you ! 1 love you deftly, and ever will. I can't help my brother's faults. But I hope he treats you with politeness and decency. He shall be none of my brother, if he don't. I rest a great deal upon your prudence : and it will be very meritorious, if you can overcome yourself, so as to act unexeeptionably, though it may not be deserved on this occa- sion. For in doing so, you'll have a triumph over nature itself; for my dear girl, as you have formerly owned, you have a little touch of jealousy in your composition. What I have heard, is no secret to any body. The injured party is generally the last who hears in these cases, and you shall not first be told any thing by me that must afflict you, but cannot you, more than it does me. God give you patience and comfort ! The wicked lady has a deal to answer for, to disturb such an uncommon happiness. But no more, than that I am your ever affectionate sister, B. Davers. I am all impatience to hear how you conduct yourself upon this trying occasion. Let me know what you have heard, and how you came to hear it. LETTER LXII. WHY don't I subscribe sister? asks my dearest Lady Davers. 1 have not had the courage to do it of late. For my title to that honour arises from the dear, thrice dear Mr. B. And how long I may be permitted to call him mine, I cannot say. But since you command it, I will call your ladyship by that beloved name, let the rest happen as God shall see fit. Mr. B. cannot be unpolite in the main ; but he is cold, and a little cross, and short in his speeches to me. I try to hide my grief from every body, and most from him : for neither my parents, nor Miss Darnford, know any thing from me. Mrs. Jervis from whom 1 seldom hide any thing, as she is on the spot with me, hears not my complainings, nor my uneasiness ; for I would not lessen the dear man. He may yet see the error of the way he is in. God grant it, for his own sake, as wel! as mine. I am even sorry your ladyship is afflicted with the knowledge of. the matter. The unhappy lady (God forgive her) is to be pitied : she loves him, and having strong passions, and being unused to be controlled, is lost to a sense of honour and justice. From these wicked masquerades springs all PAMELA. 70S Coldne?s of Mr. B. to Mrs. B. the unhappiness ; my Spaniard was too amiable, and met with a lady who was no Nun, but in habit. Every one was taken with him in that habit, so suited to the natural dignity of his person ! O these wicked masquerades ! I am all patience in appearance, all uneasiness in reality. I did not think I could, especially in this most affecting point, be such a hypocrite. Your ladyship knows not what it has cost me, to be able to assume that character '. Yet my eyes are swelled with crying;, and look red, although I am always breathing on my hand, and patting them with it, and my warm breath, to hide the distress that will, from my overcharged heart, appear in them. Then he says, " What's the matter with the little fool ! You are always in this way of late ! What ails you, Pamela '." " Only a little vapourish, Sir '. Nasty vapours ! Don't be angry at me !'' Then " Billy, I thought, was not very well '." '* This boy will spoil your temper: at this rate, what should be your joy will become your misfortune. Don't receive me in this manner, I charge you." " In what manner, Sir ? I always receive you with a grateful heart! If any thing troubles me, it is in your absence : but see, Sir" (then I try to smile, and seem pleased) " I am all sunshine now you are come ! don't you see I am ?" " Yes, your sunshine of late is all through a cloud ! I know not what's the matter with you. Your temper will alter, and then " " It shan't alter, Sir It shan't If I can help it." And then I kissed his hand ; that dear hand, that, perhaps, was last about his more beloved Countess's neck Distracting reflection ! But come, may be I think the worst ! To he sure I do '. For my appre- hensions were ever aforehand with events ; and bad must be the ease, if it be worse than I think it. But it will ripen of itself; it is a corroding evil : it will increase to its crisis, and then it may dissipate happily, or end in death. All that grieves me (for I have had the happiness of a whole life crowded thick upon me in a few past months, and so ought to be grateful for tin good I have reaped) is for liis own hn gave it to me. The superscription was a lady's writing : the seal, the Dowager Lady's, with a coronet. This gave me great uneasi- ness ; and when Mr. B. came in, I said, " Here is a letter for you, Sir ; and from a lady too !" " What then," said he, with quickness. I tvas balked, and withdrew. For I saw him turn the seal about and about, as if he would see whether I had endeavoured to look into it. He needed not to have been so afraid ; lor 1 would not have done such a thing had I known my life was to depend upon it. I went up, and could not help weeping at his quick answer : yet 1 did my endeavour to hide it, when he came up. " Was not my girl a little -inquisitive upon me just now ?" " 1 spoke pleasantly, Sir But you were very quick m your girl." b 23 3 a 706 PAMELA. Conversation of Mrs. and Sir. B. on his late Excursion. " "f is my temper, my dear You know I mean nothing. You should not mind it." " I should not, Sir, if 1 had been used to it." He looked at me with sternness, " Do you doubt my hdhour, Madam ?" " Madam 1 did you say, Sir ? I won't take that word ! Dear Sir, call it back I won't be called Madam ' Call me your girl, your rustic, your Pamela call me any thing but Madam /" " My charmer, then, my life, my sonl : will any of those do?" and saluted me : " but whatever you do, let me not see that you have any doubts of my honour to you." " The very mention of tlje word, dear Sir, is a security to me ; I want no other ; I cannot doubt : but if you speak short to me, how shall I bear that !" He withdrew, speaking nothing of the contents of his letter; as I dare say he would, had the subject been such as he chose to mention to me. We being alone, after supper, I took the liberty to ask him who was of his party to Oxford ? He named the Viscountess and her lord, Mr-. Howard and his daughter, Mr. Herbert and his lady : " And I had a part- ner too, my dear, to represent you." " I am much obliged to the lady, Sir, be she who she would." " Why, my dear, you are so engaged in your nursery! Then this was a sudden thing ; as you know I told you." " Nay, Sir, as long as it was agreeable to you, I had nothing to do, but to be pleased with it." He watched my eyes, and the turn of my countenance " You look, Pamela, as if you'd be glad to return the lady thanks in person. Shall 1 engage her to visit you ? She longs to see you." " Sir Sir," hesitated I, " as you please J can't 1 can't be dis- pleased " "Displeased .'" interrupted he : " why that word ? and why that hesi- tation in your answer ? You speak very volubly, my dear, when you're not moved." " Dear Sir," said I, almost as quick as be was, " why should I be moved ? What occasion is there for it ? I hope you have a better opinion of me than " " Than what, Pamela ? What would you say ? I know you are a little jealous rogue, I know you are." *' But, dear Sir, why do you impute jealousy to me on tldi score ? What a creature must I be, if you could not be abroad with a lady, but I must be jealous of you ? No, Sir, I have reason to rely upon your honour ; and I do re\y upon it; and " PAMELA. 707 Mrs. B.'s Resolutions of Patience and Forbearance. " And what ? Why, my dear, you are- grv'.ng me assurances, as if you thought the case required it !" " Ah!" thought I, " so it does, I see too plainly, or apprehend I do ;" but I durst not say so, nor give him any hint about my informant ; though now confirmed of the truth of what Mr. Turner had said. . Yet I resolved, if possible, not to alter my conduct. But my frequent weepings, when by myself, could not be hid as I wished; my eyes not keeping my heart's counsel. < And this gives occasion to some of the stern words which I have men- tioned above. Ail that be further said at this time was, with a negligent, yet a deter- mined air " Well, Pamela, don't be doubtful of my honour. You know- how much I love you. But, one day or other 1 shall gratify this lady's curiosity, and bring her to pay you a visit, and you shall see you need not be ashamed of her acquaintance. " =" Whenever you please, Sir," was all I cared to say farther ; for I saw he was upon the catch, and looked stead- fastly upon me whenever I moved my lips ;. and I am not a finished hypo- crite, and he can read the lines of one's face, and the motions of one's heart, 1 think. I am sure mine is a very uneasy one. But till I reflected, and weighed well the matter, it was worse ; and my natural imperfection of this sort made me see a necessity to be the more watchful over myself, and to doubt my own prudence. And thus I reasoned when he withdrew : " Here," thought I, " I have had a greater proportion of happiness without alloy fallen to my ^hare, than any of my sex ; and I ought to be prepared for some trials. " T is true, this is of the sorest kind : 'tis worse than death itself to me, who had an opinion of the dear man's reformation, and prided myself not a little on that account. So that the blow is full upon my sore place. 'Tis on the side I could be the most easily penetrated. But Achilles could be touched only in his heel ; and if he was to die by an enemy's hands, must not the arrow find out that only vulnerable place .- My jealousy is that place with me, as your ladyship observes; but it is seated deeper than the heel : it is in my heart. The barbed dart has found that out, and there it sticks up to the very feat lit rs. " Yet," thought I, " 1 will lake care, that I do not exasperate him by upbraiding-,, win n I should try to move him by patience and forbearance, lor the bn aeh of his duty cannot warrant the neglect of mine. Mv I usi- ness is to reclaim, and not to provoke. And when, il it please God, t li is storm shall be overblown, let me not, by my present behaviour, leave any room for heart-burnings; but, like a skilful surgeon, so heal ibe wound to the bottom, though the operation be painful, that it may not fester, and 3 A J 708 PAMELA. ' - " ' ' ' Mrs. B. consoles herself in her Trouble. break out again with fresh violence, on future misunderstandings, if any shall happen. " He is a young gentleman ; has been used to have his own will," thought I. ". This may be a permitted stumbling block in his way, to make him stand the firmer, when recovered. The lady may be unhappy that she cannot conquer her faulty love. They may both see their error^ and stop short of crime. If not, he is a man of fine sense ; he may run an undue length, but may reclaim ; and then I shall be his superior, by my preserved virtue and duty, and have it in my power to forgive him, and so repay him some of those obligations which 1 shall never otherwise have it in my power to repay ; nor indeed wish to have it in this way, if it please God to prevent it. " Then," thought I, " how much better is it to be the suffering than the offending person?" But yet, Madam, to have so fine, a gentleman, who had advanced so far on the hill of virtue, to slide back all at once ! and (between your ladyship and me) to have him sink down to the cha- racter he had despised ; and, at last, if his life should be spared (as is my hourly prayer) to have him carry his vices into advanced years, and become such a poor man as we see Sir Simon Darnford, retaining a love of his juvenile follies, even after the practice has left him ; how my heart shud- ders at such a thought from my Mr. B. ! " Well, but," thought I, " let the worst come to the worst, he perhaps may be so good as to permit me to pass the remainder of my days with my dear Billy, in Kent, with my father and mother; and so, when I cannot rejoice in possession of a virtuous husband, I shall be employed in praying for him, and enjoy a twofold happiness, that of doing my own duty to my dear baby a pleasing entertainment this ! and that of comforting my worthy parents, and being comforted by them a no small consolation ! And who knows, but I may be permitted to steal a visit now and then to dear Lady Davers, and be called sister, and be deemed a faultless sister too ?" But reme;uber, my dear lady, tnat if ever it comes to this, I will not bear, that, for my sake, you shall, with too much asperity, blame your brother ; for I will be ingenious to find excuses or extenuations for him ; a~nd 1 will now and then, in some disguised habit, steal the pleasure of seeing him and his happier countess ; and give him, with a silent tear, my blessing for the good I and mine have reaped at his hands. But, oh! if he takes from me my Hilly, who must, after all, be his heir, and gives him to the cruel countess, he will at once burst asunder the strings of my heart ! Tor, O my happy rivaless ! if you tear from me my husband, he is in his own disposal, and I cannot help it : nor can I indeed, if he will give you my Billy. But this 1 am sure of, that my child and my life must go together ! PAMELA. 709 Letter from Lady Davers to Mrs. B. Your ladyship will think I rave. Indeed I am almost crazed at times. For the dear man is so negligent, so cold, so haughty, that I cannot bear it. He says, just now, " You are quite altered, Pamela." I believe I am, Madam. But what can I do ? He knows not that I know so much. I dare not tell him. For he will have me then reveal my intelligencer : and what may be the case between them ? I weep in the night when he is asleep ; and in the day when he is absent : and I am happy when I can, unobserved, steal this poor relief. I believe already I have shed as many tears as would drown my baby. How many more I may have to shed, God only knows ! For, O Madam, after all my fortitude, and my recollection, to fall from so much happiness, and so soon, is a trying thing! But I will still hope the best, and resign to God's will, and his, and see how far he will be permitted to exercise me. So don't, my good lady, be over much concerned for me for you know I am apt to be too appre- hensive. And should this matter blow over, I shall be ashamed of my weakness, and the trouble 1 must give to your generous heart, for one so undeservedly favoured by you, as your obliged sister, and viost humble servant, P. B. Dear Madam, let no soul see any part of this our present correspond- ence, for your brother's sake, and your sake, and my sake. LETTER LXIII. MY DEAREST PAMELA, YOU need not be afraid of any body's knowing what passes between us on this cutting subject. Though I hear of it from every mouth, yet I pretend 'tis all falsehood and malice. Yet Lady Betty will have it, that there is more in it than I will own ; and that 1 know my brother's wick- edness by my pensive looks. She will make a vow, she says, never to marry any man living. I am greatly moved by your affecting periods. Charming Pamela! what a tempest do you raise in one's mind, when you please, and lay it too, at your own will! Your colourings arc strong; but, 1 hope, your imagina- tion carries you much farther than it is possible he should go. I am pleased with your prudent reasonings, and your wise resolutions. I see nobody can advise or help you. God only can ! And his direction you beg so hourly, that 1 make no doubt you will have it. What vexes me is, that when the noble uncle of this vile lady (why don't you call her so as well as 1 ?) expostulated with her on the scan- dals she brought upon her character and family, she pretended to argue (foolish creature !) for polygamy : and said, she bad rather be a certain gentleman's second wife, than the first to the greatest man in England, 3 a 3 710 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Lady Davers, I leave you to your own workings ; but if I find your prudence unre- warded by the wretch, the storm you saw raised at the hall shall be. nothing to the hurricane 1 .will excite, to tear up by the roots all the hap- piness the two wretches propose to themselves. Don't let my intelligence, which is undoubted, grieve you over much. Try some way to move the wretch. It must be done by touching his generosity : he has that in some perfection. But how in this case to move it, is beyond my power or skill to prescribe. God bless you, my dearest Pamela ! You shall be my only sister. And I will never own my brother, if he be so base to your superlative merit. Adieu once move, from your Sister and friend, B. Da vers. LETTER LXIV. MY DEAREST LADY, A THOUSAND thanks for your kind, your truly sisterly letter and advice. Mr. B. is just returned from a tour to Portsmouth, with the countess, I believe, but am not sure. Here I am forced to leave off. Let me scratch through this last surmise. It seems she was not with him. This is some comfort. He is very kind : and Billy not being well when he came in, my grief passed off without blame. He had said many tender things to me ; but added, that if I gave myself so much uneasiness every time the child ailed any thing, he would hire the nurse to overlay him. Bless me, Madam ! what hard hearted shocking things are these men capable of saying ! The farthest from their hearts, indeed ; so they had need For he was as glad of the child's being better as I could be. In the morning he went out in the chariot for about an hour, and returned in a good humour, saying twenty agreeable things to me, which makes me so proud, and so pleased ! Jle is gone out again. Could I but find this matter happily conquered, for his own soul's sake ! But he seems, by what your ladyship mentions, to have carried this polygamy point with the lady. Can I live with him, Madam ought I if this be the case ? I have it under his hand, that the laws of his country were sufficient to deter him from that practice. But alas ! he knew not this countess then ! But here I must break off. He is returned, and coming up. " Go into my bosom for the present, O letter dedicated to dear Lady Davers-?- Come to my hand the play employment, so unsuited to my present afflicted mind ?" Here he comes ! O Madam ! my heart is almost broken ! Just now Mr. B. tells me. PAMELA. 711 giving an Account of the Visit of the Countess Dowager. that the countess dowager, and the viscountess, her sister, are to be here to see my Billy, and to drink tea with me, this very afternoon ? 1 was all confusion when he told me this. I looked around and around, and upon every thing but him. " Will not my friends be welcome, Pamela ?" said he, sternly. " O yes, very welcome ! But 1 have these wretched vapours so, that I wish I might be excused 1 wish I might be allowed to take an airing in the chariot for two or three hours ; for I shall not be fit to be seen by such ladies," said I, half out of breath. " You'll be fit to be seen by nobody, my dear, if you go on thus. Brit, do as you please-" He was going, and I took his hand : " Stay, dear Sir, let me know what you would have me do. If you would have me stay, i will." " To be sure I would." " Well, Sir, then I will. For it is hard," thought I, " if an innocent person cannot look up, in her own hause too, as it now is, as I may say, to a guilty one ! Guilty in her heart, at least! Though, poor lady, I hope she is not so in fact ; and, if God hears my prayers, never will, for all three of our sakes." But, Madam, think for me, what a task I have ! How my heart throbs in my bosom '. How 1 tremble '. how I struggle with myself. What rules, 1 form for my behaviour to this naughty lady! How they are dashed in pieces as soon as formed, and new ones taken up ! And yet I doubt myself when I come to the test. But one thing will help me. I pity the poor lady ; and as she comes with the heart of a robber, to invade me in my lawful right, I pride myself in a superiority over this countess; and will endeavour to shew her the. country girl in a light which would better become her to appear in. I must be forced to leave off here ; for Mr. 15. is just come in to receive bis guests; and I am in a sad flutter upon it. All my resolution fails me : what shall I do! Oh, that this countess was come and gone! I tremble so, that I shall behave like a guilty one before the guilty, who will enjoy their minds, I'll warrant, as if they were innocent! Why should that be? But, surely, if all was bad, as this Turner has said, they could not act thus barbarously by tne ? For I have not deserved to be given up to be insulted! I hope I have not ! for what have 1 done' ? J have one comfort, however, in the midst of all my griefs; ami that is in your ladyship's goodness, which gives me leave- to assume the honoured title, that, let what may happen, will always give me equal pride and pleasure, in subscribing myself t/nur ladyshi/t most obliged sinter, and Immble servant, P. B. 3 A \ 71$ PAMELA. ).'<#Accii ''it <>> i islt of tbo'Connten Dowager. LETTER LXV. MY DEAR LADY, I WILL now pursue my last affecting subject ; for the visit is over ; but a sad situation 1 am in with Mr. B. for a!! that : but, bad as it is, I'll try to forget it, till I come to it in course. At four in the afternoon Mr. B. came in to receive his guests, whom he expected at five. He came up to me. I had just closed my last letter ; but put it up, and set before me your ladyship's play subject. " bo, Pamela ! How do you do now ?" Your ladyship may guess, by what I wrote before, that I could not give any extraordinary account of myself " As well as well, Sir, as possible ;" half out of breath. ** You give yourself strange melancholy airs of late, my dear. AH that cheerfulness, which used to delight me whenever I saw you, I am sorry for it, is quite vanished. You and I must shortly have a little serious talk together." " When you please, Sir. I believe it is only not being used to this smoky thick air of London ! I shall be better when you carry me into the country. I dare say I shall. But I never was in London so long before, you know, Sir." " All in good time, Pamela ! But is this the best appearance you choose to make, to receive such guests ?" " If ii displeases you, Sir, I will dress otherwise in a minute." " You io^k well in any ihing. But I thought you would have been bet- ter dressed. Yet it would never have less become you ; for of late your eyes have lost >hat brilliancy that used to strike me with a lustre, much surpas ing that of the finest diamonds." " 1 am sorry for it, Sir. But as I never could pride myself in deserving such a kind of compliment. I should be too happy, forgive me, my dearest Mr. B. if the failure be not rather in your eyes than in mine." He looked at me steadfastly. " I fear, Pamela But don't be a fool." " You are angry with me, Sir ?" "No, not I." " Would you have me dress better ?" " No, not I. If your eyes looked a little more brilliant, you want no addition." Down he went. Strange short speeches, these, my lady, to what you have heard from his dear mouth ! " Yet they shall not rob me of the merit of a patient sufferer, I am resolved," thought I. Now, my lady, as I doubted not my rival would come adorned with every outward ornament, I put on only a white damask gown, having no desire to vie with her in appearance; for a virtuous and honest heart is my glory, I bless God ! I wish the countess had the same to boast of? PAMELA. 713 An Account of the S itit ol tut _-inates Dowager. About five, their ladyships came in the countess's new chariot : for she has not been long out of her transitory mourning, and dressed as rich as jewels and a profusion of expense could make her. I saw them from the window alight. Oh, how my heart throbbed ! " Lie still," said 1, " busy thing ! why all this emotion .'Those shining ornaments cover not such a guileless flutterer as thou. Why then all this emotion ?" Polly Barlow came up instantly from Mr. B. I hastened down ; tremble, tremble, tremble, went my feet, in spite of all the resolution I had been endeavouring so long to collect together. Mr. B. presented the countess to me, both of us covered with blushes ; but from wry different motives, as I imagine. "The Countess of, my dear." She saluted me, and looked, as I thought, half with envy, half with shame : but one is apt to form people's countenances by what one judges of their hearts. " O too lovely, too charming rival !" thought I " Would to heaven I saw less attraction in you! For indeed she is a charming lady; yet she could not help calling me Mrs. B. ; that was some pride to me: every little distinction is a pride to me now and said, she hoped I would excuse the liberty she had taken : but the character given of me by Mr. B. made her desirous of paying her respects to me. "O these villanous masquerades!" thought I. "You would never have wanted to see me, but for them, poor naughty Nun, that was !" Mr. B. presented also the viscountess to me : I saluted her ladyship ; her sister saluted me. She is a graceful lady ; better, as I hope, in heart, but not equal in person to her sister. " You have a charming boy, I am told, Madam ; but no wonder from such a paif !" " O dear heart," thought I, " i'n't it so !" Your ladyship may guess what I thought further. " Will your ladyship see/him now," said Mr. B. He did not look down ; no, not one bit ! though the countess played with her fan, and looked at him, and at me, and then down by turns, a little consciously : while I wrapped up myself in my innocence, my first flutters being over, and thought 1 was superior, by reason of that, even to a countess. With all her heart, she said. 1 rang. " Folly, bid nurse bring my Billy down." My, said I, with an emphasis. I met the nurse at the stairs' foot, and brought in my dear baby in my arms : " Such a child, and such a mamma !" said the viscountess. 714 PAMELA. An Account of the Visit of the Countess Dowager. " Will you give master to my arms, one moment, Madam ?" said the countess. " Yes," thought I, " much rather than my dear naughty gentleman should any other." I yielded it to her : I .thought she would have stifled it with her warm kisses. "Sweet boy! charming creature," and pressed it to her too lovely bosom, with such emotion, looking on the child, and on Mr. B. that I liked it not by any means. " Go, you naughty lady," thought I : but I durst not say so. " And go, naughty man, too !" thought I : " for you seem to look too much grati- fied in your pride, by her fondness for your boy. 1 wish I did not love you so well as I do 1" But neither, your ladyship may believe, did I say this. Mr. B. looked at me, but with a bravery, 1 thought, too like what I had been witness to, in some former scenes, in as bad a cause. " But," thought I, " God delivered me then; I will confide in him. He will now, I doubt not, restore thy heart to my prayers ; untainted, I hope, for thy own dear sake as well as mine." The viscountess took the child from her sister, and kissed him with great pleasure. She is a married lady. Would to God the countess was o too! for Mr. B. never corresponded, as I told your ladyship once, with married ladies : so I was not afraid of her love to my Billy. ** But let me," said she, " have the pleasure of restoring master to his charming mamma. I thought," added she, " I never saw a lovelier sight in my life, than when in his mamma's arms." " Why, I can't say," said the countess, '-' but master and his mamma do credit to one another. Dear Madam, let us have the pleasure of seeing him still on your lap, while he is so good." I wondered the dear baby was so quiet ; though, indeed, he is generally so : but he might surely, if but by sympathy, have complained for his poor mamma, though she durst not for herself. How apt one is to engage every thing in one's distress, when it is deep ! and one wonders too, that things animate and inanimate look with the same face, when we are greatly moved by any extraordinary and interest- ing event. I sat down with my baby on my lap, looking I believe, with a righteous boldness (I will call it so ; for well says the text, " The righteous is as bold as a lion") now on my Billy, now on his papa, and now on the countess, with such a triumph in my heart ; for I saw her blush, and look down, and the dear gentleman seemed to eye me with a kind of conscious ten- derness, as I thought. A silence of five minutes, I believe, succeeded, we all four looking upon one another and the little dear was awake, and stared full upon PAMELA. 715 . An Account of the Visit of the Coontess Dowager. me, with such innocent smiles, as if he promised to love me, and make me amends for all. I kissed him, and took his pretty little hand in mine M You are very good, my charmer, inthis company !" said I. I remembered a scene, which made greatly for me, in the papers you have seeti, when, instead of recriminating, as I might have done, before Mr. Longman, for harsh usage (for, O my lady, your dear brother has a hard heart indeed when he pleases) I only prayed for him on my knees. And I hope I was not now too mean ; for I had dignity and a proud superiority in my vain heart, over them all. Then it was not my part to be upon defiances, where I loved, and where I hoped to reclaim. Besides, what had I done by that, but justified, seemingly, by after acts in a pas- sionate resentmept, to their minds, at least, their too wicked treatment of me ? Moreover, your ladyship will remember, that Mr. B. knew not that I was acquainted with his intrigue : for I must call it so. If he had, he is too noble to insult me by such a visit ; and he had told me, I should see the lady he was at Oxford with. And this, breaking silence, he mentioned ; saying, " I gave you hope, my dear, that I should procure you the honour of a visit from a lady who put herself under my care at Oxford." I bowed my head to the countess ; but my tears being ready to start, I kissed my Billy : " Dearest baby," said I, " you are not going to cry, are you ?" I would have had him just then to cry, instead of me. The tea equipage was brought in. " Polly, carry the child to nurse." I gave it another kiss, and the countess desired another. I grudged it, to think her naughty lips should so closely follow mine. Her sister kissed it also, and carried him to Mr. B. " Take him away," said he, " I owe him my blessing." " O these young gentlemen papas !" said the countess " They are like young unbroken horses, just put into the traces !" " Are they so ?" thought I. " Matrimony must not expect your good word, I doubt." Mr. B. after tea, at which I was far from being talkative (for I could not tell what to say, though I tried, as much as I could, not to appear sullen) desired the countess to play one tune upon the harpsichord. She did, and sung, at his request, an Italian song to it very prettily ; too prettily, I thought. I wanted to find some faults, some great faults in her: but, O Madam! she has too many outward excellences ! pity she wants a good heart. He could ask nothing that she was not ready to oblige him in ; indeed he could not. She desired me to touch the keys. I would have been excused ; but could not. And the- ladies commended my performance ; but neither my 71 PAMELA. An Account of the Visit of the Countess Dowager. heart to play, nor my fingers in playing, deserved their praises. Mr. B. said, indeed "You play better sometimes, my dear." " Do I, Sir?" was all the answer I made. The countess hoped, she said, I would return her visit ; and so said the viscountess. 1 replied, Mr. B. would command me whenever he pleased. She said, she hoped to be better acquainted ("I, hope not," thought I) and that I would give her my company for a week or so, upon the Forest : it seems she has a seat upon Windsor Forest. " Mr. B. says," added she, " you can't ride a single horse ; but we'll teach you there. 'Tis a sweet place for that purpose.'' " How came Mr. B." thought I, " to tell you that, Madam ? I suppose you know more of me than I do myself." Indeed, my lady, this may be too true ; for she may know what is to become of me ! I told her, I was very much obliged to her ladyship ; and that Mr. B. directed all my motions. " What say you, Sir ?" said the coutitess. , " I can't promise that, Madam : for Mrs. B. wants to go down to Kent, before we go to Bedfordshire, and I am afraid I can't give her my com- pany thither." " Then, Sir, I shan't choose to go without you." , " I suppose not, my dear. But if you are disposed to oblige the countess for a week, as you never were at Windsor " " I believe, Sir," interrupted I, " what with my little nursery, and one thing or another, I must deny myself that honour, for this season." " Well, Madam, then I'll expect you in Pallmall." I bowed my head, and said, Mr. B. would command me. They took leave with a politeness natural to them. Mr. B. as he handed them to the chariot, said something in Italian to the countess : the word Pamela was in what he said : she answered him, with a downcast look, in the same language, half-pleased, half-serious, and the chariot drove away. " I would gi^e," said I, " a good deal, Sir, to know what her ladyship said to you ; she looked with so particular a meaning, if I may so say." " I'll tell you truly, Pamela : I said to her, ' Well, now your ladyship has seen my Pamela Is she not the charmingest girl in the world ?' " She answered ' Mrs. B. is very grave, for so young] a lady s but I must needs say she is a lovely creature.' " " And did you say so, Sir ? And did her ladyship so answer ?" And my heart was ready to leap out of my bosom for joy. But my folly spoiled all again ; for, to my own surprise, and great regret, I burst out into tears ; though I even sobbed to have suppressed PAMELA. 717 Mr. B.'s abrupt Departure. . them, but could not ; and so I lost a fine opportunity to have talked to him while he was so kind ; for he was more angry with me than ever. What made me such a fool, I wonder? But I had so long struggled with myself; and not expecting so kind a question from the dear gentleman, or such a favourable answer from the countess, I had no longer any com- mand of myself. " What ails the little fool ?" said he, with a %vrathful countenance^ This made me worse : and he added, " Take care, take care, Pamela ! * You'll drive me from you, in spite of my own heart." So he went into the best parlour, and put on his sword, and took his hat. I followed him " Sir, Sir !" with my arms expanded, was all I could say ; but he avoided me, putting on his hat with an air ; and out he went, bidding Abraham follow him. This is the dilemma, into which, as I hinted at the beginning of this letter, I have brought myself with Mr. B. How strong, how prevalent is the passion of jealousy ; and thus it will shew itself uppermost, when it is uppermost, in spite of one's most watchful regards ! My mind is so perplexed, that I must lay down my pen: and, indeed, your ladyship will wonder, all things considered, that I could write the above account as I have clone, in this cruel suspense, and with such ap- prehensions. But writing is all the diversion I have, when my mind is oppressed. 'Tis a temporary relief; and this interview was so interesting, that it took up much of my attention while 1 wrote : but now I am come to a period of it (and so unhappy an one as has resulted from my ungoverned passion) my fears are returned upon me with a double strength. Why did 1 drive the dear gentleman from me upon such a promising appearance ? Why oMd I But all this had been prevented, had not this nasty Mr. Turner put into my head worse thoughts. For now, I can say with the poet " Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy, 'Twere better not to know." How shall I do to look- up to him now on his return? To be sure, he plainly sees to what my emotion is owing ! Yet I dare not tell him either any information, or my informant, because if he knows the one he wil know the other ; and then what may be the consequence ! 1 AST TEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT. I have only time to tell your ladyship (for the postman waits) that Mr. B. is just come In. He is gone into his closet, and has shut the door, and taken the key on the inside; so I d.ire not goto him there. In this uncertainty and suspense pity and pray fof your ladyship's afflicted sister and servant, P. B. 18 PAMELA. Letters passed between Mr. and .Mis. B. LETTER LXV1. MY PEAR LADY, I WILL now proceed with my melancholy account. Not knowing what to do, and Mr. B. not coming near me, and the clock striking twelve, I ventured to send this billet to hitn by Polly. " DEAR SIR, " I know you choose not to be invaded, when retired to your closet; yet, being very uneasy, on account of your abrupt departure, and heavy displeasure, I take the liberty to write these few lines. " I own, Sir, that the sudden flow of tears which involuntarily burst from me, at your kind expressions to the countess in my favour, when I had thought for more than a month past you were angry with me, and which had distressed my weak mind beyond expression, might appear unaccountable to you. But had you kindly waited but one moment till this fit, which was rather owing to my gratitude than to perverseness, had been over (and I knew the time when you would have generously soothed it) I should have had the happiness of a more serene and favourable parting. " Will you suffer me, Sir, to attend you ? (Polly shall wait your answer.) I dare not come without your permission ; for should you be as angry as you were, I know not how I shall bear it. But if you say 1 may come down, I hope to satisfy you, that I intended not any offence. Do, dear Sir, permit me to attend you, I can say no more, than that I am your ever dutiful P. B. Polly returned with the following. " So," thought I, " a letter ! I could have spared that, 1 am sure." I expected no favour from it. So tremblingly opened it. " my dear; " I would not have you sit up for me. We are getting apace into the matrimonial recriminations. You knew the time ! So did I, my dear ! But it seems as if the time is over with both ; and I have had the mor- tification, for some past weeks to come home to a very different Pamela, than I used to leave all company and all pleasure for. 1 hope we shall better understand one another. But you cannot see me at present with any advantage to yourself; and I would not, that any thing farther should pass, to add to the regrets of both. I wish you good rest. I will give your cause a fair hearing, when I am more fit to hear all your pleas, and your excuses. I cannot be insensible, that the reason for the concern you have lately shewn, must lie deeper than perhaps you'll now own. As soon as you are prepared to speak all that is upon your mind, and I to hear it with temper, then we may come to an eclaircisse- ment. Till when I am your affectionate, &c." PAMELA. 719 / Mrs. B. attends Mr. B. My busy apprehension immediately suggested to me, that I was to be terrified, with a high hand, into a compliance with some new scheme or other that was projecting. But I had resolved to make their way as clear to one another as was in my power, if they would have it so ; and so I tried to allay my grief as much as I could ; and it being near one, and hearing nothing from Mr. B. I bid Polly go to bed, thinking she would wonder at our intercourse by letter, if I should send again. s So down I ventured, my feet, however, trembling all the way, and tapped at the door of his closet. "Who's that?" " I, Sir : one word, if you please. Don't be more angry, however, Sir." He opened the door : " Thus poor Hester, to her royal husband, ven- tured her life, to break in upon him unbidden. But that eastern monarch, great as he was, extended to the fainting suppliant the golden sceptre '." He took my hand : " I hope, my dear, by this tragedy speech, we are not to expect any sad catastrophe to our present misunderstanding." " I hope not, Sir. But 'tis all as God and you shall please. I am resolved to do my duty, Sir, if possible. But, indeed, I cannot bear this cruel suspense! Let me know what is to become of me. Let me know but what is designed for me, and you shall be sure of all the acquiescence that my duty and conscience can give to your pleasure." " What means the dear creature ? What means my Pamela ? Surely, your head, child, is a little affected !" " I can't tell, Sir, but it may! But let me have my trial, that you write about. Appoint my day of hearing, and speedily too ; for I would not bear such another month as the last has been for the world." " Come, my dear," said he, " let me attend you to your chamber. But your mind has taken much too 9olemn a turn, to enter further now upon this subject. Think as well of mu as I do of you, and I shall be as happy ?.; ever." I wept. " Be not angry, dear Sir: your kind words have just the =aine effect upon me now, as in the afternoon." " Your apprehensions, my dear, must be very strong, that a kind word, as you call it, has such an effect upon you ! But let us wave the subject for a few days, because I am to set out on a little journey at four, and had not intended to go to bed for so few hours." When we c;uue up, I said, " I was very bold, Sir, to break in upon you ; but 1 could not help it, if my life had been the forfeit : and you received me with more goodness than I could have expected. But will you pardon me, if I ask, whither you go so soon ? and if you had intended to have gone without taking leave of me ?" 720 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to Lady Havers, . . " I go to Tunbridge, my dear. I should have stept up and taken leave of you before I went." " Well, Sir, I will not ask you, who is of your party ; I will not No" (putting my hand to l. ; s lips) " don't tell me, Sir : it mayn't be proper." " Don't fear, my dear ; I won't tell you : nor am I certain whether it be proper or not, till we are come to a better understanding. Only, once more, think as well of me as I do of you." " Would to heaven," thought I, " there was the same reason for the one as for the other!" I intended (for my heart was full) to enter further into this subject, so fatal to my repose : but the dear gentleman had no sooner laid his head on the pillow but he fell asleep, or feigned to do so, and that was as prohibitory to my talking as if he had. So I had all my own enter- taining reflections to myself: which gave me not one wink of sleep ; but made me of so much service, as to tell him when the clock struck four, that he should not (though I did not say so, you may think, Madam) make my ready rivaless (for I doubted not her being one of the party) wait for him. He arose, and was dressed instantly ; and saluting me, bid me be easy and happy, while it was yet in my own power. He said, he should be back on Saturday 'night, as he believed. And I wished him, most fervently, I am sure, health, pleasure, and safety. Here, Madam, must I end this letter. My next will, perhaps, contain my trial, and my sentence : God give me but patience and resignation, and then whatever occurs, I shall not be unhappy : especially while I can have, in the last resource, the pleasure of calling myself yoxir ladyship's most obliged sister and servant, P. B. LETTER LXV1I. MY DEAR LADY, I WILL be preparing to write to you, as I have opportunity, not doubt- ing but this must, be a long letter ; and having some apprehensions, that, as things may fall out, 1 may want either head or heart to write to your ladyship, were I to defer it tiil the catastrophe of this cruel suspense. Oil, what a happiness am I sunk from ! And in so few days too '. O the wicked masquerades! They shall be always followed with the execrations of an injured wife in me, who, but for that wretched diversion, had still been the happiest of her sex ! But I was too secure ! It was fit, perhaps, that I should be humbled and mortified; and I must try to make a virtue of the cruel necessity, and see, if by the Divine grace I cannot bring real good out of this appearing evil. PAMELA. 721 containing a private Letter respecting Mr. B.'s Intrigue. The following letter, in a woman's hand, and signed, as you'll see, by a woman's name, and spelt as I spell it, will account to yonr ladyship for my beginning so heavily. It came by the penny-post. " MADAME, " I ame unknowne to yowe ; but yowe are not so altogathar to mee, becaus I haue bene edefyed by yowre pius behafiorr att church, whir 1 see yowe with playsir eyerie Sabbaoth day. I ame welle acquaintid with the famely of the Coumptesse of ; and yowe maie passiblie haue hard what yowe wished not to haue hard concerninge hir. But this verie morn- inge, I can assur yowe, hir ladishippe is gon with yowre spowse to Ton- brigge ; and theire they are to take lodgings, or a hous ; and Mr. B. is after to come to town, and settel matters to go downs to hir, where they are to liue as man and wiffe. Make what use yowe pleas of thiss infor- masion : and belieue me to haue no other motife, than to serue yowe, becavs of yowre vartues, wliiche make yowe deserue a better retorne. I am, thof I shall not set mytrewe name, yowre grete admirer and servant, " TllOMASlNK FULLEJJ. " Wednesday morninge, 9 o'clock." Just above I called my state, a state of cruel suspense .' Hut I recal the words : for now it is no longer suspense ; since, if this letter says truth, I know the worst : and there is too much appearance that it doe-;, let the writer be who he will, or his or her motive what it will : for, after all, I am apt to fancy this a contrivance of Mr. Turner's, though, for fear of ill consequences, I will not say so. And now, Madam, I am endeavouring, by the help of religion, and cool reflection, to bring my mind to bear this heavy evil, and to recollect what I was, and how much more honourable an estate I um in, than I could ever have expected to be in ; that my virtue ami good name arc secured ; and I can return innocent to my dear parents : and these were once the only pride of my heart. In addition to what I was then (and yet I pleased myself with my prospects, poor as they were) I have honol parelits, bountifulh provided for, thank God and your ever-dear brother for this blessing ! and no! only provided for but made useful to him, to the amount of their provision, well-nigh '. There is a pride, my lady ! Then I shall have better conditions from his generosity to support my- self, than I cm wish for, or make n < of. Then I have my dear Hilly " () be contented, too eh inning, and too happy rivaless, with my, husband; and (ear not from me m\ d' areil baby, the pledge, the beloved pledge, of our happier afleelioiis, and the dear p mernbrance of what I once was ! But if, my dear Mr. 15. you doubt the all 3 is ~22 PAMELA. Keflcctions of Mrs. B. on the Conduct of Mr. B. education 1 can give him, fit for the heir to your great fortune (for such he must be, despised or abandoned as his poor mother may be) and will remove him from me, and grief kill me not before that sad hour, let me have some ofiice, not incompatible with that of bis tutor, to instil virtue into his ductile mind ; for tutors, although they may make youth learned, do not always make them virtuous ; and let me watch over his steps, and wherever he goes, let me go: I shall value no dangers nor risks; the most distant climes shall be native to me, wherever my Billy is ; so that I may be a guard, under God, to his morals, that he make no virgin's heart sigh, nor mother's bleed, as mine has done, in both states." " But, how I rave !" will your ladyship be apt to say This is no good symptom, you'll think, that I have reaped at present that consolation from religious considerations, which, to a right turn of mind, they will afford in the heaviest misfortunes. But this was only in fear they should take my Billy from me. A thousand pleasing prospects, that had hegun to dawn on my mind, I can bear to have dissipated ! But I cannot, indeed I cannot \ permit my dear Mr. B.'s son and beir to be torn from me. Yet I hope they will not be so cruel : for I will give them no provocation to do it, if I can help it. No law-suits, no complainings, no asperities of expression, much less bitter reflections, shall they ever have from me. I will be no conscience to them ; they will be punished too much, in their own, for what I wish ; and they shall always be followed by my prayers. I shall have leisure for that exercise, and be happy and serene, when, I doubt, they will not be so ! Bilt still I am running on in a strain that shews my impatience, rather than my resignation ; yet some struggles must be allowed me : I could not have loved, as I love, if I could easily part with my interest in so beloved a husband. For my interest I will part with, and sooner die, than live with a gentleman who has another wife, though I was the first. Let countesses, if they can, and ladies of birth, choose to humble themselves to this base- ness The low-born Pamela cannot stoop to it. Pardon me ; you know I only write this with a view to this poor lady's answer to her noble uncle, of which you wrote me word. FRIDAY Is now concluding. I hope I am much calmer. For, being disappointed, in all likelihood, in twenty agreeable schemes and projects, I am now forming new ones, with as much pleasure to myself as I may. For, my lady, it is one's duty, you know, to suit one's mind to one's condition i and I hope 1 shall be enabled to do good in Kent, if I cannot in London, and Bedfordshire, and Lincolnshire. God every where provides us with objects, on which to exercise one's gratitude and beneficence. I am thinking to try to get good Mrs. Jervis with me. You must not, PAMELA. 723 Mr. B. returns from Tunbridge. Madam, be too much concerned for me, After a while, I shall be no un- happy person ; for though I was thankful for my splendid fortunes, and should have been glad, to be sure I should, of continuing in them, with so dear a gentleman ; yet a high estate had never such dazzling charms with ine as it has with some : if it had, I could not have resisted so many temptations, possibly, as God enabled me to resist. SATURDAY NIGHT Is now come. 'Tis nine, and no Mr. B. " O why," as Deborah makes the mother of Sisera say, " is his chariot so long in coming ? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ?" I have this note now at eleven o'clock : " MY DEAREST PAMELA, <( I DisrATC'H this messenger, lest, expecting me this night, you should l>c uneasy. I shall not be with you till Monday, when I hope to dine with my dearest life. Ecer affectionately yours." So I'll go up and pray for him, and then to bed. Yet 'tis a sad tiling ! >-- 1 have had but poor rest for a great while ; nor shall have any till my fate is decided. Hardhearted man, he knows under what uneasiness he left me ! MONDAY, ELEVEN. If God Almighty hears my yesterday's, and, indeed, my hourly prayers, the dear man will b" good still ; but my aching heart, every time I think what company he is in (for I find the countess is certainly one of the party) bodes me little satisfaction. He's come ! He's come ! now, just now, come ! I will have my trial over before this night be past, if possible. I'll go down and meet, him with love unfeigned, and a duty equal to mv love, although he may forget his to me. If I eonquer myself on this occasion, I conquer nature, as your ladyjhip says ; and then, by God's grace, I can conquer every thing. They have taken their house, 1 suppose: but what need they, when they'll have one in Bedfordshire, and one in Lincolnshire? But they know best. God bless him, and reform her! That's ail the harm I wish them, or will wish them ! My dear Mr. B. his received me with great affecfion and tenderness. Sure he cannot be so bad ! Sure be cumot ! " I know, my dear," said be, " I left you in great anxiety ; but 'tis an anxiety you have brought upon yourself; and I have not been easy ever since I parted from you." " I am sorry for it, Sir." " Why my dear love, there is still a melancholy air in your countenance : indeed, it seems mingled with a kind of joy ; I hope at my return to you. But 'lis easy to sie which of the two is the most natural." 3 B 2 724 " PAMELA. i. wl i < to have a Trial. * You should see nothing, Sir, that you would not wish to see, if I could help it." " I am sorry you cannot. But I am come home to hear all your grievances, and to- redress them, if in my power." " When, Sir, am I to come upon my trial ? I have much to say. I will tell you every thing I think. And as they may be the last grievances, as you are pleased to call them, I may ever trouble you with, you must promise to answer me not one word till I have done. For, if it does but hold, I have great courage indeed ! you don't know half the sauciness that is in your girl yet ; but when I come upon my trial, you'll wonder at my boldness." " What means my dearest!" taking me into his arms. " You alarm me exceedingly, by this moving sedateness." " Don't let it alarm you, Sir! I mean nothing but good ! But I have been preparing myself to tell you all my mind. And as an instance of what you may expect from me, sometimes, Sir, I will be your judge, and put home questions to you ; and sometimes you shall be mine, and at last pronounce sentence upon me ; or, if you won't, I will upon myself ; a severe one to me it shall be, but an agreeable one, perhaps, to you ! When comes on the trial, Sir?" He looked steadily upon me, but was silent. And I said, " But don't be afraid, Sir, that I will invade your province ; for though I shall count myself your judge, in some cases, you shall be judge paramount still." " Dear charmer of my heart," said he, and clasped me to his bosom, " what a new Pamela have I in my arms ! A mysterious charmer ! Let us instantly go to my closet, or your's, and come upon our mutual trial ; tor you have fired my soul witli impatience !" " No, Sir, if you please, we will dine first. I have hardly eaten any thing these four days ; and your company may give me an appetite. I shall be pleased to sit down at table with yon, Sir," taking his hand, and trying t'> smile upon him ; " for the moments I have of your com- pany, may be, some time hence, very precious to my remembrance." I was then forced to turn my head, to hide from him my eyes, brimful as they were of tears. He took me again into his arms : " My dearest Pamela, if you love me, distract not my soul thus, by your dark and mysterious speeches. You are displeased with me, and I thought 1 had reason, of late, to take something amiss in your conduct; but, instead of your suffering by my anger, you have words and an air that penetrate my very soul." " O Sir, Sir, treat me not thus kindly! Put on an angrier brow, or how shall I retain my purpose ? How shall I !" " Dear, daar creature ! make not use of all V jur power to melt me !- PAMELA. 725 B,'s Trial before Mr. B. Half of it is enough. For there is eloquence in your eyes I cannot resist; but in your present solemn air, and affecting sentences, you mould me to every purpose of your heart ; so that I am a mere machine, a passive instrument, to be played upon at your pleasure." " Dear, kind Sir, how you revive my heart, by your goodness ! Perhaps I have only been in a frightful dream, and am but just now awakened. But we will not anticipate our trial. Only, Sir, give orders, that you are not to be spoken with by any body, when we have dined ; for I must have you all to myself, without interruption." Just as I said this, a gentleman calling, I retired to my chamber, and wrote to this place. Mr. B. dismissed bis friend, without asking him to dine ; so I had him all to myself at dinner. But we said little, and sat not above a quarter of an hour ; looking at each other : he, with impatience, and some seeming uneasiness ; I with more steadiness I believe, but now and then a t you on this affecting subject. The reason will appear in its place. And, oh! con- gratulate me, my dear lady ! for 1 am happy, and shall be happier than 1 ever was ; and that 1 thought, so did every body, was impossible. But 3 li 3 726 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Trial before Mr. 15. 1 will not anticipate the account of my trial, and the blessed effects it has produced. Thus, then, it was : Mr. B. came up, with great impatience in his looks. I met him at my chamber-jdoor, with a very sedaie countenance, and my heart was high with my purpose, and supported me better than I could have expected. Yet, on recollection, now I impute to myself something of that kind of magnanimity that was wont to inspire the innocent sufferers of old, for a Still worthier cause than mine ; though their motives could hardly be more pure, in that one hope I had, to be a humble means of saving the man I love and honour from errors that might be fatal to his soul. I took his hand with boldness : " Dear Sir," leading him to my closet, " here is tbe bar, at which I am to take my trial," pointing to the backs of three chairs, which I had placed in a joined row, leaving just room to go by on each side. " You must give me, Sir, all my own way ; ,this is the first, and perhaps the last time, that I shall desire it.-^Nay, dear Sir," turning my face from him, " look not upon me with an eye of tenderness : if you do I may lose my purposes, important to me as they are ; and how- ever fantastic my behaviour may seem to you, I want not to move your passions (for the good impressions made upon them maybe too easily dis- sipated by the winds of sense) but your reason; and if that can be done, I am safe, and shall fear no relapse." " What means all this parade, my dear ? Let me perish," that was his word, " if I know how to account for you or your humour." " You will presently, Sir. But give me all my way I pray you do This one time only !" " Well, so, this is your bar, is it ? There's an elbow-chair, I see ; take your place in it, Pamela, and here I'll stand to answer all your questions." " No, Sir, that must not be." So I boldly led him to the elbow-chair. " You are the judge, Sir ; it is I that am to be tried. Yet I will not say I am a criinina!. I know I am not. But that must be proved, Sir, you know." " Well, take your way ; but I fear for your bead, my dear, in all this." " I fear only my heart, Sir, that's all ! but there you must sit So hert" (retiring to the three chairs and leaning on the backs) " here I stand." *' And now, my dearest Mr. B. you must begin first. When you shewed me the House of Peers, their bar, at which causes are heard, and some- times peers are tried, looked awful to me ; and the present occasion requires that this should. Now you must be my accuser, as well as my judge." " I have nothing to accuse you of, my dear, if I 7nust give into your moving whimsy. You are every thing I wish you to be. But for the PAMELA. 727 Mrs. B.'s Trial before Mr. B. Jast month you have seemed to he uneasy, and have not done me the justice to acquaint me with your reasons for it." '" I was in hopes my reasons might have proved to he no reasons ; and I would not trouble you with my ungrounded apprehensions. But now, Sir, we are come directly to. the point ; and methinks I stand here as Paul did before Felix ; and like that poor prisoner, if I, Sir, reason of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, even to make you, as the great elix did, tremble, don't put me off to anolher day, to a more con- venient season, as that governor did Paul ; for you must bear patiently with all I have to say." " Strange, uncommon girl '. how unaccountable is all this ! Prithee, my dear," and he pulled a chair by him, " come and sit down by me, and without these romantic airs let me hear all you have to say ; and tease me not with this parade." " No, Sir, let me stand, if you please, while I can stand ; when weary, I will sit down at my bar. " Now, Sir, since you are so good as to say, you have nothing but change of temper to accuse me of, I am to answer to that, and assign a cause ; and I will do it without evasion or reserve : but I beseech you say not one word, but yes or no, to my questions, till 1 have said all I have to say, and then you shall find me all silence and resignation." "Well, my strange dear! But sure your head is a little turned ! What is your question ?" " Whether, Sir, the Nun I speak boldly ; the cause requires it who followed you at the masquerade every where is not the Countess of ?" " What thru, my dear" (speaking with quickness " I thought the occasion of your sullenness and reserve was tliis ! But, Pamela " " Nay, Sir," interrupted I, " only yes, or no, if you please : 1 will be all silence by-and-by." " Yen, then." " Well, Sir, then let me tell you, for I ask you not (it may be too bold in me to multiply questions) that she loves you ; that you correspond by letters with her Yes, Sir, he/ore that letter from her lady- ship came, which you received from my hand in so short and angry a manner, for fear of my curiosity to see its contents, which would have been inexcusable in me, I own, if 1 had. You have talked over to her all your polygamy notions, and she seems so well convinced of them, as to declare to her noble uncle (who expostulated with her on the occasions she gave for talk) that she had rather be a certain gentleman's second wife than the first to the greatest man in England : and you are but just returned from a journey toTunbridge, in which that lady was a party ; and the motive for it I am acquainted with by this letter." 3 B 1 ~28. PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Ti irp Mr. B. ingly, with any lady upon earth. But say not, can I part with you, Sir ; it is you that part with me : and tell me, Sir, tell me but what you had intended should become of me ?" " You talk to me, my dearest life, as if all you had heard against me was true ; and you, would have me answer you (would you) as if it was." " I want nothing to convince me, Sir, that the countess loves you : you kno v the rest of my information : judge for n*e, what I can, what I ought to believe I You know the rumours of the world concerning you : even I, who stay so much at home, and have not taken the least pains to find out my wretchedness, nor to confirm it, since I knew it, have come to the hearing of it ; and if you know the licence taken with both your characters, and yet correspond so openly, must it not look to me, that you value not your honour in the world's eye, nor my lady hcr's ? I told you, Sir, the answer she made to her uncle." " You told me, my dear, as you were told. Be tender of a lady's repu- tation for your own sake. No one is exempted from calumny ; and even words said, and the occasion of saying them not known, may bear very different construction from what they would have done, had the occasion been told." " This may be all true, Sir : I wish the lady would be as tender of her reputation as I would be, let her injure me in your affections as she will. But can you say, Sir, that there is nothing between you, that should not be, according to my notions of virtue and honour, and according to your own, which I took pride in, before that fatal masquerade ? " You answer me not," continued I ; " and may I not fairly presume you cannot as I wish to be answered ? But come, dearest Sir" (and I put my arms around his neck) " let me not urge you too boldly. 1 will never forget your benefits and your past kindnesses to me. I have been a happy creature : no one, till within these few weeks, was ever so happy as I.. I will love you still with a passion as ardent as ever I loved you. Absence cannot lessen such a love as mine : I am sure it cannot. " I see your difficulties. You have gone too far to recede. If you can make it easy to your conscience, I will wait with patience my happier destiny ; and I will wish to live (if I can be convinced you wish me not to die) in order to pray for you, and to be a directress to the first education of my dearest baby. " You sigh, dear Sir ; repose your beloved face next to my fond heart. 'Tis all your own -. and ever shall be, let it, or let it not, be worthy of the honour in your estimation. " But yet, my dear Mr. B. if one could as easily, in the prime of sensual youth, look twenty years backward, what an empty vanily, what a mere '* PAMELA. - 733 Mr. B. overcome by Mrs. B. Nothing, will l>e all those grosser.. satisfactions, that now give wings of desire to our debased appetites ! " Motives of religion will have their due force upon your mind one day, I hope ; as, blessed be God, they have enabled me to talk to you on such a touching point (after infinite struggles, I own) with so much temper and resignation ; and then, my dearest Mr. B. when we come to that last bed, from which the piety of our friends shall lift us, but from which we shall never be able to raise ourselves ; for, dear Sir, your countess, and you, and your poor Pamela, must all come to this ! we shall find what it is will give us true joy, and enable us to support the pangs of the dying hour. Think you, my dearest Sir" (and I pressed my lips to his forehead, as his head was reclined on my throbbing bosom) " that then, in that important moment, what now gives us the greatest pleasure, will have any part in our consideration, but as it may give us woe or comfort in the reflection ? "But I will not, O best beloved of my soul, afflict you farther. Why should I thus sadden all your gaudy prospects ? I have said enough to such a heart as yours, if Divine s^race touches it. And if not, all I can say will be of no avail ! I will leave you therefore to that, and to your own reflections. And after giving you ten thousand thanks for your in- dulgent patience with me, I will only beg, that I may set out in a week for Kent, with my dear Billy ; that you will receive one letter at least, from me, of gratitude and blessings ; it shall not be of upbraiding; and exclamations. " But my child you must not deny me ; for I shall haunt, like his shadow, every place wherein you shall put my Billy, if you should be so unkind to deny him to me ! And if you will permit me to have the dear Miss Goodwin with me, as you had almost led me to hope, f will read over all the boi ks of education, and digest them, as well as I am able, in order to send you my scheme, and to shew you how fit, 1 hope your inrlu Igencc , at least, will make you think me, of having two such precious trusts reposed in me !" 1 was silent, waiting in tears his answer. But. his generous heart was touched, and seemed to labour within him for expression. He came round to me at last, and took me in his arms: " Exalted creature !" said he ; " noble-minded Pamela ! Let no bar be put between us henceforth ! No wonder, when one looks back to your first promising dawn of excellence, that your fuller day should thus irresistibly dazzle such weak eyes as mine. Whatever it costs me, and I have been incon- siderately led on by blind passion fir an object too charming, but which I never thought equal to my Pamela, I will 'for it is yet, I bless God, in my power; restore to your virtue a husband all your own." " O Sir, Sir '. ' 'and 1 should have sunk with joy, had not his kind arms 734 PAMELA. Mr. B. overcome by Mrs. B. supported me) " what have you said ? Can I be so happy as to behold you innocent as to deed '. God, of his infinite goodness, continue you both so ! And, oh ! that the dear lady would make me as truly love her for the graces of her mind, as I admire her for the advantages of her person !" " You are virtue itself, my dearest life ; and from this moment I will reverence you as my tutelary angel. I shall behold you with awe, and implicitly give up myself to all your dictates : for what you say, and what you do, must be ever right. But I will not, my dearest life, too lavishly promise, lest you should think it the sudden effects of passions thus movingly touched, and which may subside again, when the soul, as you observed in your own case, sinks to its former level : but this I promise (and I hope you believe me, and will pardon the pain I have given you, which made me fear, more than once, that your head was affected, so uncommon, yet so like yourself , has been the manner of your acting) that I will break off a correspondence that has given you so much uneasiness : and my Pamela may believe, that if I can be as good as my word in this point, she will never more be in danger of any rival whatever. " But say, my dear love," added he, " say you forgive me ; and resume but your former cheerfulness, and affectionate regards to me, else I shall suspect the sincerity of your forgiveness : and you shall indeed go to Kent, but not without me, nor your boy neither ; and if you insist upon it, the poor child you have wished so often and so generously to have, shall be given up absolutely to your disposal." Do you think, Madam, I could speak any one distinct sentence ? No indeed I could not " Pardon, pardon you, dear Sir 1" and I sunk down on my knees, from his arms " All I beg All I hope Your pardon my thankfulness. O spare me spare me but words " And indeed I was just choked with my joy ; I never was so before. And my eyes were in a manner fixed, as he told me afterwards ; and that he was a little Startled, seeing nothing but the whites ; for the sight was out of its orbits, in a manner lifted up to heaven in ecstacy for a turn so sudden, and so unexpected 1 We were forced to separate soon after ; for there was no bearing each other, so excessive was my joy, and his goodness. He left me, and went down to his own closet. Judge my employment you will, I am sure, my dear lady. I had new ecstacy to be blest with, in a thankfulness so exalted, that it left me all light and pleasant, as if I had shook off body, and trod in air; so much heaviness had I lost, and so much joy had I received. From two such extremes, how was it possible I could presently hit the medium ? For when I had given up my beloved husband, as lost to me, and had dreaded the consequences to his future state: to find him not only untainted as to PAMELA. 735 Lettei s passed between Mr. and Mrs. B. deed, but, in all probability, mine upon better and surer terms than ever O Madam '. must not this give a joy beyond all joy, and surpassing all expression ! About eight o'clock Mr. B. sent me up these lines from his closet, which will explain what I meant, as to the papers I must beg your ladyship to return me. ' " MY DEAR PAMELA, " I have so much real concern at the anguish I have given you, and am so much affected with theTecollection of the uncommon scenes which passed between us, just now, that I write, because I know not how to look so excellent a creature in the face You must therefore sup without me, and take your Mrs. Jervis to bed with you ; who, I doubt not, knows all this affair ; and you may tell her the happy event. *' You must not interfere with me just now, while writing upon a subject which takes up all my attention ; and which, requiring great delicacy, I may, possibly, be all night before I can please myself in it. " I am determined to make good my promise to you. But if you have written to your mother, Miss Darnford, or to Lady Davers, any thing of this affair, you must shew me the copies, and let me into every tittle how .you came by your information. I solemnly promise you, on my honour (that has not yet been violated to you, and I hope never will) that not a soul shall know or suffer by the communication, not even Turner; for I am confident he has had some hand in it. This request you -must comply with, if you can confide in me ; for I shall make some use of it (as prudent an one as I am able) for the sake of every one concerned, in the conclusion of the correspondence between the lady and myself. Whatever you may have said in the bitterness of your heart, in the letters I required to see, or whatever any of those, to whom they are directed, shall say, on the bad prospect, shall be forgiven, and looked upon as deserved, by your ever obliged and faithful," tic. 1 returned the following: " DEAREST, DEAR SIR, " I will not break in upon you, while you are so importantly em- ployed. Mrs. Jervis has indeed seen my concern for some time past, and has heard rumours, as.1 know hy hints she has given me ; but her prudence and my reserves have kept us from saying any thing to one another of it. Neither my mother nor M^ss Darnford know a tittle of it from me. I have received a letter of civility^Ktm Miss, and have answered it, taking and giving thanks for the pleasure of each other's company, and best respects from her and the Lincolnshire families to your dear self. These, my copy, and her original, you shall sec when you please. But, in truth, all that bas passed, is between Lady Pavers and me, and 1 have not kept 730 PAMELA. Mr. B. wishes to see the Letters sent to Lady Pavers. copies of mine ; but I will dispatch a messenger to her ladyship for them, if you please, in the morning, before it is light, not doubting your kind promise of excusing every thing and every body. " 1 beg, dear Sir, you will take care your health suffers not by your sit- ting up ; for the nights are cold and damp. " 1 will, now you have given me the liberty, let Mrs. Jervis know how happy you have made me, by dissipating iny fears, and the idle rumours, as I shall call them to her, of calumniators. *' God bless you, dear Sir, for your- goodness and favour to your ever- dutiful P. B." He was pleased to return me t whom I so much love and honour ! Mr. B. told me this voluntarily, this morning at breakfast ; and then, in the kindest nunner, took leave of me, and set out for Bedfordshire. PAMELA. 737 Conversation at Breakfasr. But I x should, according to my promise, give you a few particulars of our breakfast conference. I bid Pollj' withdraw, wheu her master came up to breakfast ; and I ran to the door to meet him, and threw myself on my knees : " O forgive me, dearest, dear Sir, all my boldness of yesterday ! My heart was strangely affected or I could not have acted as I did. But never fear, my dearest Mr. B. that my future conduct shall be different from what it used to be, or that I shall keep up to a spirit, which you hardly thought had place in the heart of your dutiful Pamela, till she was thus severely tried." " I have weighed well your conduct, my dear life," raising me to his. bosom ; " and I find an uniformity in it that is surprisingly just. " There is in your composition the strangest mixture of meekness and high spirit that ever I met with. Never was a saucier deor girl than you, in your maiden days, when you thought your honour in danger : never a more condescending goodness, when your fears were at an end. Now again, when you had reason, as you believed, to apprehend a conduct ill me unworthy of my obligations to you, and of your purity, you rise in your spirit, with a dignity that becomes an injured person; and yet you forget not, in the height of your resentments, that angelic sweetness of temper, and readiness to forgive, which so well become a lady who lives as you live, and practises what you practise. My dearest Pamela, I see, serves not God for naught : in a better sense I speak it than the maligner spoke it of Job : since in every action of yours the heavenly direction you so constantly invoke shews itself thus beautifully. " And now again this charming condescension, the moment you are made easy, is an assurance, that your affectionate sweetness is returned : and I cannot fear any thing, but that I shall never be able to deserve it." He led me to the tea-table, and sat down close by me. Polly came in. " If every thing," said hi;, " be here, that your lady wants, you may with- draw ; and let Colbrand and Abraham know I shall be with them pre- sently. Nobody shall wait upon me but you, my dear." Polly withdrew. ' You are all goodness, Sir: and how generously, how kindly, do you account for that mixture in my temper, you sneak of! Depend upon it, dear Sir, that I will never grow upon this your indulgence." " 1 always loved you, my dearest," said he, " and that with a passionatfl fondness, which has not, I dan s.iy, many examples in the married life : but I >cv ere you now. And m> great is my reverence for your virtue, that I chose to sit up all night, to leave- you for a few days, until, by disengaging myself from all intercourses that have given you uneasiness, J can convince you, that I have rendered myself as worthy as I can be, of such an angel, even upon your own terms. 1 will account to you for every step I shall take, and will reveal to you every step I have taken : for this I can do, 6 24' 3 c 738 PAMELA. Character of the Countess Dowager. because the lady's honour is untainted, and picked rumour has treated her worse than she could deserve." I told him, that since he had named the lady, I would take the liberty to say, I was glad, for her own sake, to hear that. Changing the subject a little precipitately, as if it gave him pain, he told me, as above, that I might prepare on Friday for Kent; and I parted with him wjth greater pleasure than ever I did in my life. So necessary sometimes are afflictions, not only to teach one how to subdue one's passions, and to make us, in our happiest states, know we are still on earth, but even when they are overblown to augment and redouble our joys ! I am now giving orders for my journey, arid quitting this undelightful town, as it has been, and is, to me. My next will be from Kent, I hope 5 and I may then have an opportunity to acquaint your ladyship with the particulars, and (if God answers my prayers) the conclusion of the affair, which has given me so much uneasiness. Meantime, I am, with the greatest gratitude, for the kind share you have taken in my past afflictions, my good lady, your ladyship's most tbliged sister, and servant, P. B. LETTER LXIV. MY DEAREST PAMELA, INCLOSED are all the letters you send for. I rejoice with you upon the turn this afflicting atfairhas taken, through your inimitable prudence, and a courage I thought not in you. A wretch ! to give you so much discomposure ! But I will not, if he be good now, rave against him, as I was going to do. I am impatient to hear what accounts he gives of the matter. I hope he will be abie to abandon this I won't call her names : for she loves the wretch ; and that, if he be just to you, will be her punishment. What care ought these young widows to take of their reputation ? And how watchful ought they to be over themselves ? She was hardly out of her weeds, and yet must goto a masquerade, and tempt her fate, with all her passions about her, with an independence, and an affluence of fortune, that made her able to think of nothing but gratifying them. Then her lord and she had been married but barely two years ; and one of them, she was forced, with the gayest temper in the world, to be his nurse : for, always inclined to a consumptive indisposition, he languished a year without hope, and then died. She has good qualities is generous noble but has strong passions, and is thoughtless and precipitant. My lord came home last Tuesday with a long story of my brother and her : for I had kept the matter as secret as I could, for his sake and yours. It stems he had it from Sir John , uncle to the younj Lord C. who is PAMELA. 739 I ' . ; Mr. B. and Family quit London for Kent. very earnest to bring on a treaty of marriage between her and his nephew, who is in love with her, and is a fine young gentleman ; but has held back, on the liberties she has lately given herself with my brother. I hope she is innocent, as to fact ; but I know not what to say to it. He ought to be hanged, if he did not say she was. Yet I have great opinion of his veracity : and yet he is so bold a wretch ! And her incon- sideration is so great ! But lest I should alarm your fears, I will wait till I have the account he gives you of this dark affair ; till when, I congratulate you upon the leave you have obtained to quit the town, and on your setting out for a place so much nearer to Tunbridge. Forgive me, Pamela ; but he is an intriguing wretch, and I would not have you to be too secure, lest the dis- appointment should be worse for you, than what you knew before: but assure yourself, that I am in all cases and events, your affectionate sister and admirer, . B. Davers. P. S. Your bar, and some other parts of your conduct in your trial, as you call it, make me (as, by your account, it seemed to do him) apprehensive, that you would hardly have been able to have kept your intellect so un- touched as were to be wished, had this affair proceeded. And this, as it would have been the most deplorable misfortune that could befal us, who love and admire you so justly, redoubles my joy, that it is likely to end so happily. God send it may. LETTER LXV. From Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAREST LADY, MR. B. came back from Bedfordshire to his time. Every thing being in readiness, we set out with my baby, and bis nurse. Mrs. Jervis, when every thing in London is settled by her direction, goes to Bedfordshire. We were met by my father and mother in a chaise and pair, which your kind brother had presented to them unknown to me, that they might often take the air together, and go to church in it (which is at some distance) on Sunday** The driver is clothed in a good brown cloth suit, but no livery ; for that my parents could not have borne, as Mr. B.'s good- ness made him consider. Your ladyship must need-, think how we were all overjoyed at this meeting : for my own part I cannot express how much I was transported when we arrived at the farm-bouse, to see all I delighted in, upon out happy spot together. We were welcomed into these parts by the bells, and by the minister, and people of most note; and were at church together on Sunday. Mr. B. is to set out on Tuesday for Tunbridge, with my papers. A happy issue, attend that affair, I pray God '. He has given me the follow- 3 c 'i 740 ' PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. U.'s Intrigue >vith the Countess Dowager. ing particulars of it, to the time of my trial, beginning at the mas- querade. He says, that at the masquerade, when, pleased, with the fair Nun's shape, air, and voice, he bad followed her to a corner most unobserved, she said in Italian, " Why are my retirements invaded, audacious Spa- niard ?" " Because, my dear Nun, I hope you would have it so." " I can no otherwise,' returned she, ' strike dead thy bold presumption, than to shew thee my scorn and anger thus !' And she unmasking surprised me," said Mr. B. " with a face as beautiful, but not so soft as my Pamela's. ' And I,' said Mr. B. ' to shew I can defy your resent- ment, will shew you a countenance as intrepid as yours is loveh.'" And so he drew aside his mask too. He says, he observed his fair Nun to he followed, wherever she went, by a mask habited like Testimony in Sir Courtly Nice, whose attention was fixed upon her and him; and he doubted not that it was Mr. Turner. So he and the fair Nun took different ways, and he joined me and Miss Darnford, and found me engaged as I before related to your ladyship, and his Nun at his elbow unexpected. That afterwards, as he was engaged in French with a lady who h->d the dress of an Indian Princess, and the mask of an Ethiopian, his fa>r Nun said, in broken Spanish, " Art thou at all complexions ? By St. Ignatius, I believe thou'rt a rover !" " I am trying," replied he, in Italian, " whether I can meet with any lady comparable to my lovely Nun." " And what is the result ?" " Not o-e : no, not one." '* I wish you could not help being in earnest," said she ; and slid from him. He engaged her next at the sideboard, drinking under her veil a glass of Champaign. " You know, Pamela," said he, " there never was a sweeter mouth in the world than the countess's except your own. She drew away the glass, as if unobserved by any body, to shew me the lower part of her face. " I cannot say, but I was struck with her charming manner, and an mireservedness of air and behaviour, that I had Hot before seen so becom- ing. The place, and the freedom of conversation and deportment allowed there, gave her great advantages in my eye, although her habit required, *s I thought, a little more gravity and circumspection : and I could not rell how to resist a secret pride and vanity, which is but too natural to both sexes, when they are taken notice of by persons so worthy of regard. " Naturally fond of every tiling that carried the face of an intrigue, I longed to know who this charming Nun was. And next time I engaged bcr, ' My good sister,' said I, ' how happy should 1 be, if I might be ad- mitted to a conversation with you at your grate I' PAMELA. 741 Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue villi the Countess Dwager. " Answer me,' said she, ' thou bold Spaniard' (for that was a name she seemed fond of, which gave me to imagine, that boldness was a qualifica- tion she was not displeased with. 'Tis not unusual with our vain sex," observed he, " to construe even reproaches to our advantage) * is the lady here, whose shackles thou wearest !' ' Do I look like a man shackled, my fairest Nun ?' ' No no ! not much like such an one. But I fancy thy wife is either a Widow or a Quaker' c Neither,' replied T, taking, by equivocation, her question literally. " And art thou not a married wretch ? Answer me quickly ! We are observed.' ' No,' said I. 'Swear to me, thou art not.' 'By St. Igna- tius, then ;' for, my dear, I was no wretch, you know.-' Enough '.' said she, and slid away ; and the Fanatic would fain have engaged her, but she avoided him as industriously. " Before I was aware, she was at my elbow, and, in Italian, said, 'That fair Quaker, yonder,' is the wit of the assembled : her eyes seem always directed to thy motions; and her person shews some intimacies have passed with somebody : is it with thee ?' ' It would be my glory if it was,' said I, * were her face answerable to her person.' ' Is it not?' ' I long to know,' replied Mr. I!. * I am glad thou dost not.' ' I am glad to hear my fair Nun say that.' ' Dost thou,' said she, ' hate shackles ? Or is it, that thy hour is liot yet come ?' " I wish,' replied he, ' this be not the hour, the very hour !' " pretending (naughty gentleman ! What ways these men have !) to sigh. She went again to the sideboard, and put her handkerchief upon it. Mr. B. followed, and observed all her motions. She drank a glass of lemonade, as be of Burgundy ; and a person in a domino, supposed to be the king, passing by, took up every one's attention but Mr. B.'s, who eyed her handkerchief, not doubting but she laid it there on purpose to forget to take it up. Accordingly she left it there ; and slipping by him, he, unobserved, as he believes, put it in his pocket, and at the corner found the cover of a letter " To the Right Honourable the Countess Dowager of ." That after this, the fair Nun was so shy, so reserved, and seemed so studiously to avoid him, that he had no opportunity to return her hand- kerchief; and the Fanatic observing how she shunned him, said, in French, " What, Monsieur, have you done to your Nun ?" " 1 found her to be a very coquette ; and told her so ; and she is offended."' " How could you affront a lady," replied he, " with such a charming face?" " By that I had reason to think," said Mr. B. " that be had seen her nmask ; and I said, ' It becomes- not any character, but that you wear, 3 c3 742 PAMELA. '* | i i Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. to pry into the secrets of others, in order to make ill-natured remarks, and perhaps to take ungentleman-like advantages.' " No man should make that observation,* returned he, ' whose view* would bear prying into.' " I was nettled," said Mr. B. " at this warm retort, and drew aside my mask : ' Nor would any man, who wore not a mask, tell me so ?' " He took not the challenge, and slid from me, and I saw him no more that night." " So," thought I, " another instance this might have been of the glo- rious consequences of masquerading." O my lady, these masquerades are abominable things ! The king, they said, met with a free speaker that night : in truth, I was not very sorry for it ; for if monarchs will lay asida their sovereign distinctions and mingle thus in masquerade with the worst as well as the highest (I cannot say best) of their subjects, let 'em take the consequence. Perhaps they might have a chance to hear more truth here than in theip palaces the only good that possibly can accrue from them that is to say, if they made a good use of it when they heard it. For you see, my monarch, though he told the truth, as it happened, received the hint with more resentment than thankfulness ! So, 'tis too likely did the monarch of us both. And now, my lady, you need not doubt, that so polite a gentleman would find an opportunity to return the Nun her handkerchief! To be sure he would : for what man of honour would rob a lady of any part of her apparel ? And should he, that wanted to steal a heart, content himself with a handkerchief? No, no, that was not to be expected. So, what does he do, but resolve, the very next day, after dinner, to pursue this affair: accordingly, the poor Quaker little thinking of the matter, away goes her naughty Spaniard to find out his Nun at her grate, or in her par- lour rather. He asks for the countess. Is admitted into the outward parlour her woman comes down ; requires his name and business. His name he men- tioned not. His business was, to restore into her lady's own hands some- thing she had dropt the night before.- Was desired to wait. I should have said, that he was dressed very richly kaving no design at all to make ^conquests ; no, not he 1 O this wicked love of intrigue! A kind of olive-coloured velvet, and fine brocaded waistcoat. I said, when he took leave of me, " You're a charming Mr. B." and saluted him, more pressingly than he returned it ; but little did I think, when I plaited so smooth his rich laced ruffles, and bosom, where he was going, or what he had in his plotting heart. He went in his own chariot, that he did ; so tbat he had no design to conceal who he was But intrigue, a new con- PAMELA. 743 ' m ~~"- Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. quest, vanity, pride ! O these men ! They had need talk of ladies ! But it is half our own fault, indeed it is, to encourage their vanity. Well, Madam, he waited till his Stateliness was moved to send up again, that be would wait on her ladyship some other time. So down she came, dressed most richly, jewels in her breast, and in her hair, and ears But with a very reserved and stately air. He approached her Methinks I see him, dear saucy gentleman. You know, Madam, what a noble manner of address he has. He took the handkerchief from his bosom with an air ; and kissing it, presented it to her, saying, " This happy estray, thus restored, begs leave, by me, to acknowledge its lovely owner !" " What mean you, Sir ? Who are you, Sir? What mean you ?" " Your ladyship will excuse me : but I am incapable of meaning any thing but what is honourable." {No, to be sure.) " This, Madam, you left last night, when the domino took up every one's attention but mine, which was much better engaged ; and I take the liberty to restore it to you." She turned to the mark ; a coronet at one corner. " 'Tis true, Sir, I see now it is one of mine : but such a trifle was not worthy of being brought by such a gentleman as you seem to me ; nor of my trouble to receive it in person. Your servant, Sir, might have delivered the baga- telle to mine." " Nothing should be called so that belongs to the Countess of ." " She was no countess, Sir, that dropt that handkerchief, and a gentleman would not attempt to penetrate unbecomingly, through the disguises a lady thinks proper to assume ; especially at such a place where every enquiry should begin and end." This, Madam, from a lady, who had unmasked because she would not be known ' Very pretty, indeed ! O these slight cobweb airs of mo- desty ! so easily seen through. Hence such advantages against us are taken by the men. She had looked out of her window, and seen no arms quartered with his own ; for you know, my lady, I would never permit any to be procured for me : so, she doubted not, it seems, but he was an unmarried gentleman, as he had intimated to her (he night before. He told her it was impossible, after having seen the finest lady in the world, not to wish to see her again ; and tbat he hoped he did not, unbecomingly, break through her ladyship's reserves : nor had he made any enquiries, either on the spot, or olf it; having had a much better direction by accident. " As how, Sir?" said she, as he told me, with so bewitching an air, between attentive and pleasant, that, bold gentleman, forgetting all man- ner of distance, so early too ! he clasped his arms around her waist, and saluted her, struggling with anger and indignation, he says ; but I think little of that ! 3 c 4 744 PAMELA. ParticnUri of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. " Whence this insolence ! How, now, Sir! Begone !" were her words, and she rung the bell : but he set his back against the door (I never heard such boldness in my life, Madam} till she would forgive him. And, it is plain, she was not so angry as she pretended : for her woman coming, she was calmer " Nelthorpe," said she, " fetch my snuff-box, with the lavender in it." Her woman went; and then she said, "You told me, Sir, last night, of your intrepidness : I think you are the boldest man I ever met with : but, Sir, surely you ought to know, that you are not now in the Hay- market.". I thii'ik, truly, Madam, the lady might have saved herself that speech : for, upon my word, iliey neither of them wore masks Though they ought to have put on one of blushes 1 am sure I do for them, while 1 am writ- ing. Her irresistible loveliness served for an excuse, that she could not disapprove from a man she disliked not : and his irresistible may I say,, assurance, Madam ? found too ready an excuse. " Well, but, Sir," said I, " pray, when- her ladyship was made ac- quainted that you were a married gentleman, how then ? Pray, did she find it out, or did you tell her ?" " Patience, my dear '." " Well, pray, Sir, go on. What was next ?" " Why, next, I put on a more respectful and tender air : v I would have taken her hand indeed, but she would not permit it ; and when she saw I would not go till her lavender snuff came down (for so I told her, and her woman was not in haste) she seated herself, and I sat by her, and began to talk about a charming lady I saw the night before, after parting with her ladyship, but not equal by any means to her : and I was confident this would engage her attention ; for I never knew the lady who thought herself handsome, that was not taken by this topic. Flattery and admiration, Pamela, are the two principal engines by which our sex make their first approaches to yours ; and if you listen to us, we are sure, either by the sap or the mine, to succeed, and blow you up whenever we please, if we do but take care to suit ourselves to your particular foibles ; or, to carry on the metaphor, point our batteries to your weak side for the strongest fortresses, my dear, are weaker in one place than another." " A fine thing, Sir," said I, " to be go learned a gentleman !" " I wish, however," thought I, " you had always come honestly by your knowledge." " When the lavender snuff came down, we were engaged in an agreeable disputation, which I had raised on purpose to excite her opposition, she having all the advantage in it ; and in order tojny giving it up, when sh was intent upon it, as a mark of my consideration for her." *' I the less wonder, Sir," said I, " at your boldness (pardon the word) with such a lady, in your first visit, because of her freedoms, when masked, PAMELA. 74* Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. her unmasking, and her handkerchief and letter cover. To be sure the lady, when she saw, next day, such a fine gentleman, and handsome equipage, had little reason, after her other freedoms, to be so very nice with you, as to decline an ensnaring conversation, calculated on purpose to engage her attention, and to lengthen out your visit. But did she not ask you who you were ?" " Her servants did of mine. And her woman (for I knew all afterwards, when we were better acquainted) whispered her lady, that I was Mr. B. of Bedfordshire; and had an immense estate, to which they were so kind as to add two or three thousand pounds a year, out of pure good will to me : I thank them." " But pray, dear Sir, what had you in view in all this ? Did you intend to carry this matter, at first, as far as ever you could ?" " I had, at first, my dear, no view, but such as pride and vanity suggested to me. I was carried away by inconsideration, and the love of intrigue, without even thinking about the consequences. The lady, I observed, had abundance of fine'qualities. I thought I could converse with her on a very agreeable foot, and her honour, 1 knew, at any time, would preserve me mine, if ever I should find it in danger; and, in my soul, I preferred my Pamela to all the ladies on earth, and questioned not, but that, and your virtue, would be another barrier to my fidelity. " As to the notion of polygamy, I never, but in the levity of speech, and the wantonness, of argument, like other lively young fellows, who think they have wit to shew, when they advance something out of the common way, had it in my head. I thought myself doubly bound by the laws of my country, to discourage that way of thinking, as I was a five hundredth part of one of the branches of the legislature ; and, inconsiderable as that is, yet it makes one too considerable, in my opinion, to break those laws one should rather join one's interest to enforce. "In a word, therefore, pride, vanity, thoughtlessness, were my mis- guiders, as I said. The countess's honour a j\ character, and your virtue and merit, toy tlear, and my obligations to you, were my defences : but I find one should avoid the first appearances of evil. One knows not one's own strength. 'Tis presumptuous to depend upon it, where wit and beauty are in the way on one side, and youth and strong passions on the other." " You certainly, Sir, say right. Hut be pleased to tell me what her ladyship said when she knew you were married." " The countess's woman was in my interest, and let me into some of her lady's secrets, having a great share in her confidence; and particularly acquainted me, feow loath her lady was to believe I was married. Iliad paid her three visits in town, and one to her seat upon the Forest, before she heard that 1 was 746 PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. But when she was assured of it, and directed her Nelthorpe to ask me about it, and I readily owned it, she was greatly incensed, though nothing but general civilities, and intimacies not inconsistent with honourable friendship, had passed between us. The consequence was, she forbad my ever seeing her again, and set out with her sister and the viscount for Tunbridge, where she staid about three weeks. " I thought I had already gone too far, and blamed myself for permit- ting her so long to believe me single; and here the matter had dropped, in all probability, had not a ball given by my Lord , to which, un- known to each other, we were both, as also the viscountess, invited, brought us again together. The lady soon withdrew, with her sister, to another apartment ; and being resolved upon personal recrimination (which is what a lady, who is resolved to break with a favoured object, should never trust herself with) sent for me, and reproached me on my conduct, in which her sister joined. " I owned frankly, that gaiety, rather than design, made me give cause, at the masquerade, for her ladyship to think I was not married ; for that I had a wife, with a thousand excellences, who was my pride, and my boast : that I held it very possible for a gentleman and lady to carry on an innocent and honourable friendship, in a. family way ; and I was sure, when she and her sister saw my spouse, they would not be displeased with her acquaintance ; all that I had to reproach myself with, was, that after having, at the masquerade, given reason to think I was not married, I had been loath, officiously , to say I was, although I never intended to conceal it. In short, I acquitted myself so well with both ladies, that a family intimacy was consented to. I renewed my visits ; and we accounted to one another's honour, by entering upon- a kind of Platonic system, in which sex was to have no manner of concern. " But, my dear Pamela, I must own myself extremely blameable, becanse I knew the world, and human nature, I will say, better than the lady, who never before had been fimsted into it upon her own feet ; and who, notwithstanding that wit and vivacity which every one admires in her, gave herself little time for consideration, as she had met with a man, whose person and conversation she did not dislike, and whose circumstances and spirit set him above sordid or mercenary views ; and besides I made myself useful to her in some of her affairs, wherein she had been grossly abused ; which brought us into more intimate and frequent conversations. I ought, therefore, to have more carefully guarded against inconveniences, which I knew were so likely to arise from such intimacies ; and the rather, as I hinted, because the lady had no apprehension at all of any : so that, my dear, if 1 have no excuse from human fraily, from youth, and the charms of the object, I am entirely destitute of any." PAMELA. 747 Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. " I see, Mr. B." said I, " there is a great deal to be said foe the lady; I wish I could say there was for the gentleman. But such a fine lady had been safe, with all her inconsideration ; and so (forgive me, Sir) would the gentleman, with all his intriguing spirit, had it not been for these vile masquerades. Never, dear Sir, think of going to another." " Why, my dear, those are the least of all to be trusted at these diversions who are most desirous to go to them. Of this I am now fully convinced." " Well, Sir, I long to hear more particulars of this story : forthis generous openness, now the affair is over, cannot but be grateful to me, as it shews me you have no reserves, and tends to convince me, that the lady was less blam.able than 1 apprehended : for I love, for the honour of my sex, to find Indies of birth and quality innocent, who have so many opportunities of knowing and practising their duties, above what meaner persons can have. Else, while the one fails through surprise and ignorance, it will look as if the others were faulty from inclination : and what a disgrace is that upon the sex in general ! and what a triumph to the wicked ones of yours !" " Well observed, my dear: this is like your generous and deep way of thinking." " But, dear Sir, proceed Your reconciliation is now effected: afriend- ship quadripartite is commenced. And the viscountess and I are to find cement for the erecting of an edifice that is to be devoted to Platonic love. What, may I ask, came next ? And what did yon design should come of it?" " The Oxford journey, my dear, followed next ; and it was my fault you were not a party in it, both ladies being very desirous of your com- pany : but it was the time you were going abroad, after your lying-in, so I excused you to them. Yet they both longed to see you ; especially, as by this time, you may believe, they knew all your story : and besides, whenever you were mentioned, I did justice, as well to your mind as to your person ; and this not only fur the sake of justice, but, to say truth, because it gave the two sisters, and the viscount (whose softly character, and his lady's prudent and respectful conduct to him, notwithstanding that, are both so will known) less cause of suspicion, that I had any dishonourable designs upon the dowager lady." Here, Madam, Mr. B. broke off, referring to another time the conclu- sion of his narrative. I will here close this letter ("though possibly 1 may not send it, till I send the conclusion of this story in my next) with the assurance that I am your ladyship's obliged sister and servant, P. B. 748 PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Conntess Dowager. l LETTER LXVI. * MY DEAR LADY, NOW I will proceed with my former subject ; and with the greater pleasure, as what follows makes still more in favour of the countess's character, than what went before, although that set it in a better light than it had once appeared to me in. I began as follows " Will you be pleased, Sir, to favour me with the continwation of our last subject ?" " I will, my dear." " Dear Sir, will you be pleased to satisfy me about that affecting information, of your intention and my lady's t,; live at Tunbridge together?" " 'Tis absolute malice and falsehood. Our intimacy had not proceeded go far ; and, thoughtless as my sister's letters suppose the lady, she would have spurned at such a proposal, I dare say." " Well, but then, Sir, as to the expression to her uncle, that she had rather have been a certain gentleman's second wife ?" " I believe she might, in a passion, say something like it to him : he had been teasing her (from the time that I held an argument in favour of that foolish topic polygamy, in his company and his niece's, and in that of her sister and the viscount) with cautions against conversing with a man, who having, as he was pleased to say behind my back, married beneath him, wanted to engage the affections of a lady of birth, in order to recover, by doubling that fault upon her, his lost reputation. " She despised his insinuation enough to answer him, that she thought my arguments in behalf of polygamy were convincing. This set him a raving, and he threw some coarse reflections upon her, which could not be repeated, if one may guess at them, by her being unable to tell me them ; and then to vex him more, and to revenge herself, she said some- thing like what was reported : which was handle enough for her uncle, who took care to propagate it with an indiscretion peculiar to himself; for I heard it in three different companies, before I knew any thing of it from herself; and when I did, it was so repeated, as you, my dear, would hardly have censured her for it, the provocation considered." " Well, but then, dear Sir, there is nothing at all amiss, at this rate, in the correspondence between my lady and you .'" " Not on her side, I dare say, if her ladyship can be excused to punctilio, and for having a greater esteem for a married man, than he can deserve, or than may be strictly defended to a person of your purity and niceness." " Well, Sir, this is very noble in you. 1 love to hear the gentlemen generous in points where the honour of our sex is concerned. But pray, Sir, what then was there on your side, in that matter, that made you give me so patient and so kind a hearing ?" PAMELA. 749 Particulars of Mr. B.' Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. " Now, my dear, you come to the point : at first it was nothing in me but vanity, prit'.e, and love of intrigue, to try my strength, where I had met with some encouragement, as I thought, at the masquerade ; where the lady went farther, too, than she would have done, had she not thought I was a single man. For, by what I have told you, Pamela, you will observe, that she tried to satisfy herself on that head, as soon as she well could. Mrs. Nelthorpe acquainted me afterwards, when better known to each other, that her lady was so partial in my favour (who can always govern their fancies, my dear ?) as to think, so early as atlhe masquerade, that if every thing answered appearances, and that I were a single man, she, who has a noble and independent fortune, might possibly be induced to make me happy in her choice." " Supposing, then, that I was unmarried, she left a signal for tre in her handkerchief. I visited her ; had the honour, after the customary first shiness of being well received; and continued my visits, till, perhaps, she would have been glad I had not been married, but on finding I was, she avoided me, as I have told you, till the accident I mentioned threw us again upon each other : which renewed our intimacy upon terms you would think too inconsiderable on one side, and too designing on the other. " For myself, what can I say ? only that you gave me great disgusts (without cause, as I thought) by your unwonted reception of me, ever in tears and grief; the countess ever cheerful and lively ; and fearing that your temper was entirely changing, I believe. I bad no bad excuse to try to make myself easy and cheerful abroad, since my home became more irksome to me than ever I believed it could be. Then, as we naturally love those who love us, I had vanity, and some reason for my vanity (indeed all vain men believe they have) to think the countess had more than an indifference for me. She was so exasperated by the wrong methods taken with an independent lady of her generous spirit, to break off our acquaintance, that, in revenge, she denied me less than ever opportunities of her company. The pleasure we took in each other's conversation was reciprocal. The world's reports had united us in one common cause : and you, as I said, had made home less delightful to me than it used to be : what might not then have been apprehended from so many circumstance* concurring with the lady's beauty and my frailty ? " I waited on her to Tunbridge. She took a house there. Where peo- ple's tongues will take so much liberty, witbout any foundation, and where the utmost circumspection is used, what will they not say, where so little of the litter is observed? No wonder, then, thnt terms were said to be agreed upon b< iween us : from her uncle story, of polygamy proposed by me, and seemingly agreed to by her, no wonder that all your Thomasine 750 PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. B.'s Intrigue with the Countess Dowager. Fuller's information was surmised. Thus stood the matter, when I was determined to give your cause for uneasiness a hearing, and to take my measures according to what should result from that hearing." " From this account, dear Sir," said I, " it will not be so difficult, as I feared, to end this affair even to her ladyship' i satisfaction." " I hope not, my dear."" But if, now, Sir, the countess should still be desirous not to break with you ; from so charming a lady, who knows what may happen ?" * . . " Very true, Pamela ; but tc-inake you still easier, I will tell you that her ladyship has a first cousin married to a person going with a public character to several of the Italian courts, and, had it not been for my per- suasions, she would have accepted of their earnest invitations, and passed a year or two in Italy, where she once resided for three years together, which makes her so perfect a mistress of Italian. " Now I will let you know, additionally to what I have written to her, the uneasiness I have given you, and, so far as it is proper, what is come to your ears, and your generous account of her, and the charms of her person, of which she will not be a little proud ; for she has really noble and generous sentiments, and thinks well (though her sister, in pleasantry, will have it a little enviously) of you ; and when I shall endeavour to per- suade her to go, for the sake of her own character, to a place and country of which she was always fond, I am apt to think she will come into it ; for she has a greater opinion of my judgment than it deserves: and l know a young lord, who may be easily persuaded to follow her thither, and bring her back his lady, if he can obtain her consent : and what say you, Pamela, to this ?" " O Sir ! I believe I shall begin to love the lady dearly, and that is what I never thought I should. 1 hope this will be brought about. " But I see, give me leave to say, Sir, how dangerously you might both have gone on, under the notion of this Platonic love, till two precious souls had been lost : and this shews one, as well in spirituals and tem- porals, from what slight beginnings the greatest mischiefs sometimes spring ; and how easily at first a breach may be stopped, that, when neglected, the waves of passion will widen till they bear down all before them." " Your observation, my dear, is just," replied Mr. B. " and though 1 am confident the lady was more in earnest than myself in the notion of Platonic love, yet I am convinced, and always was, that Platonic love is Platonic _nonsense : 'tis the fly buzzing about the blaze, till its wings are scorched ; or, to speak still stronger, it is a bait of the devil to catch the unexperienced and thoughtless : nor ought such notions to be pretended PAMELA. 751 The Child sick of the Smallpox. to, till the parties are five or ten years on the other side of their grand climacteric : for age, old age, and nothing else, must establish the barriers to Platonic love. But this was my comparative consolation, though a very bad one, that had I swerved, I should not have given the only instance, where persons more scrupulous than I pretended to be, have begun friend- ships even with spiritual' views, and ended them as grossly as 1 could have done, were the lady to have been as frail as her tempter." Here Mr. B. finished his narrative. He is now set out for Tunbridge, with all my papers. I have no doubt in his honour and kind assurances, and hope my next will be a joyful letter ; and that I shall inform you in it, that the affair which went so near my heart is absolutely concluded to my satisfaction, to Mr. B.'s and the countess's ; for if it be so to all three, my happiness, I doubt not, will be founded on a permanent basis. Mean time I am, my dear good lady, your most affectionate , and obliged sister and servant, P. B. LETTER LXVII. A NEW misfortune, my dear lady ! But this is of God Almighty's send- ing ; so I must bear it patiently. My dear baby is taken with the small- pox ! To how many troubles are the happiest of us subjected in this life ! One need not multiply them by own's own wilful mismanagements ! I am able to mind nothing else ! I hail so much joy (as I told your ladyship in the beginning of my last letter but one) to see, on our arrival at the farm-house, my dearest Mr. B. my beloved baby, and my good parents, all upon one happy spot, that 1 fear I was too proud. Vet 1 was truly thankful, I am sure! But I had, notwithstanding, too much pride, and too much pleasure, on this happy occasion. I said, in my last, that your dear brother set out on Tuesday morning for Tunbridge with my papers ; and I longed to know the result, hoping that every tiling would be concluded to the satisfaction of all three : " For," thought I, " if this be so, my happiness must be permanent :" but alas ! there is nothing permanent in this life. I fed it by experience now '. I knew it before by theory : but that was not so near and interest- ing by half. For, with all my pleasures and hopes, in the midst of my dear parents' joy am! congratulations on our arrival, and on what had passed so happily since wi were last here together (in the birth of the dear child, and my safety, for which they had been so apprehensive) the poor baby was taken ill. It hui on that very Tuesday his papa set out for Tunbridge ; but we knew not it would be the smallpox till Thursday. O Madam ! how are all the pictures 1 had funned to my3elf sickened now upon me ! for my Billy u vcrv bad. 75* PAMELA. Mrs. IVs Grief at the Child's Sickness. Tbey talk of a kind sort :,but, alas ! they talk at random : for they come not out at all ! I fear the nurse's constitution is too hate and too rich fur the dear baby ! Had / been permitted But, hush ! all my repining' ifs ! Except one if; and that is, if it be got happily over, it will be best he had it so young, and while at the breast ! O Madam, Madam ! the small appearance that there was is gone in again : and my child, my dear baby, will die ! The doctors seem to think so. They wanted td send for Mr. B. to keep me from him ! But I forbid it ! For what signifies life, or any thing, if I cannot see my baby, wliile he is so dangerously ill t My father and mother are, for the first time, quite cruel to me; tbey have forbid me, and I never was so desirous of disobeying them before, to attend the darling of my heart : and why ? For fear of this poor face ! For fear I should get it myself! But I am living very low, and have taken proper precautions by bleeding, and the like, to le^< i the distem- per's fury, if I should have it ; and the rest I leave to Providence. And if Mr. B.'s value is confined so much to this poor transitory sightliness, lie must not break with h's countess, I think; and if I am ever so de- formed in person, my poor intellects, I hope, will not be impaired, and I shall, if God spare my Billy, be useful in his first education, anil be help- ful to dear Miss Goodwin or to any babies with all my heart he may make me a humble nurse to! How peevish, sinfully so, I doubt, does this accident, and their affectionate contradiction, make one ! I have this moment received the following from Mr. B. " MY DEAREST LOVE, Maidstone. " I am greatly touched with the dear boy's malady, of which I have this moment heard. I desire you instantly to come to me hither, in the chariot, with the bearer, Colbrand. I know what your grief must be : but as you can do the child no good, 1 beg you'll oblige me. Every thing is in a happy train ; but I can think only of you, and (for your sake principally, but not a little for my own) my boy. I will set out to meet you ; for I choose not to come myself, lest you should try to persuade me to permit your tarrying about him ; and I should be sorry to deny you any thing. I have taken handsome apartments for you, till the event, which I pray God may be happy, shall better determinate me what to do. I will be ever your affectionate and faithful." Maidstone indeed is not so very far off, but one may hear everyday, once or twice, by a man and horse ; so I will go, to shew my obedience, since Mr. B. is so intent upon it But I cannot live, if I am not permitted to come back. Oh ! let me be enabled, gracious Father .' to close this letter more happily than I have begun it! PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Grief .it the Child's Sickness. 1 have been so dreadfully uneasy at Maidstone, that Mr. B. has teen so good as to return with me hither ; and I find my baby's case not yet quite desperate. 1 am easier now I see him in presence of his beloved papa who lets me have all my way, and approves of my preparative method for myself; and he tells me, that since I will have it so, he will indulge me in my attendance on the child, and endeavour to imitate my reliance on GoD that is his kind expression and leave the issue to him,. And on my telling him, that I feared nothing in the distemper but the loss of his love, he said, in presence of the doctors, and my father and mother, pressing my hand to his lips " My dearest life, make your- self easy under this affliction, and apprehend nothing for yourself : 1 love you more for your mind than for your face. That and your person will be the same ; and were that sweet face to be covered with seams and scars, I will value you the more for the mi-fortune : and glad I am, that I had jour picture so well (\rawn in town, to satisfy those who have heard of your loveliness, what you were, and hitherto are. For myself, my admira- tion lies deeper;" and, drawing me to the other end of the room, whisperingly he said, " The last uneasiness between us, 1 now begin to think, was necessary, because it has turned all my delight in you, more than ever, to the perfections of your mind ; and so God preserves to me the life of my Pamela, I care not, for my 'own part, what ravages the dis- temper makes here," and tapped my rheek. How generous, how noble, how comforting was this! I will make this use of it : 1 will now lie resigned more and more to this dispensation, and prepare myself for the worst ; for it is the dispensation of that God who gave me my baby ami all 1 have ! When I retired, the reflections which I made, on supposing the worst, gave birth to the following serious lines (for 1 cannot live without a pen in my hand) written, as by a third person, suppose a good minister. Your ladyship will be pleased to give them jour favourable allowances. " Tell me, fond weeping parent, why Thou fear'st so much thy child should die ? 'Tis true, though human frailty may, Vet reason can't, have much to say. What is it thou thyself hast found, In this dull, heavy, tiresome round Of life to make thee wish thy son Should through the like dark mazes run ? " Suppose the worst! 'Twill end thy fears, And free th.ee from a world uf cares, 754 PAMELA. Grief of Mrs. B. at the Child's Sickness. For, oh ! what anxious thoughts arise From hopefull'st youths, to damp our joys ! Who, from the morning's brightest raj', Can promise what will be the day ?" When I went from my apartment, to go to my child, my dear Mr. B. met me at the nursery-door, and led me back again. " You must not go in again, my dearest. They have just been giving the child other things to try to drive out the malady ; and some pustules seem to promise on his breast." I made no doubt my baby Was then in extremity ; and I would have given the world to have shed a few tears, hut I could not. With the most soothing goodness he led me to my desk, and withdrew to attend the dear baby himself ; to see his last gaspings, poor little lamb, I make no doubt ! This suspense, and my own strange hardness of heart, that would not give up one tear (for the passage from that to my eyes seemed quite choked up, which used to be so open and ready on other occasions, affecting ones too) produced these lines : " Why does my full swoln heart deny The tear relief-ful to niv eye ? If all my joys are pass'd away, And thou, dear boy, to parent clay Art hasting, the last debt to pay ; Resign me to thy will, my God : Let me, with patience bear this rod, However heavy be the stroke, If thou wilt not his doom revoke, Let me all sinful anguish shun, And say, resign'd ' Thy will be done 1' " Two days have passed, dreadfjl days of suspense : and now, blessed tie God ! who has given me hope that our prayers are heard, the pustules come kindly out, very thick in his breast, and on his face ; but of a good 3ort, they tell me. They won't let me see him ; indeed they won't '. What cruel kindness is this ! One must believe all that they tell one ! But, my dear lady, my spirits are so weak ; I have such a violent head- ach, arid have such a strange shivering disorder all running down my hack, and I was so hot just now, and am se cold at this present aguishly inclined I dun'c know how '. that I must leave off, the post going away, with the assurance, that I am, ami will be, to the last hour of my life, uimr ladyship's urntiful and obliged usicr and servant, P. B. PAMELA. 755 Mrs. B. sick ot" the Smallpox. LETTER LXVIII. From Mr. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAR SISTER, I TAKE very kindly*your solicitude for the health of my beloved Pamela. The last time she wrote was to you ; for she took to her bed the moment she laid down her pen. I told her your kind message, and wishes for her safety, by my lord's gentleman : and she begged I would write a line to thank you in her name for your affectionate regards to her. She is in a Que way to do well : for, with her accustomed prudence, she had begun to prepare herself by a proper regimen, the moment she knew the child's illness was the smallpox. 1'he worst is over with the boy, which keeps up her spirits ; and her mother is so excellent a nurse to both, and we are so happy likewise in the care of a skilful physician, Dr. M. (who directs and approves of every thing the good dame does) that it is a singular providence this malady seized them here ; and affords no small comfort to the dear creature herself. When I tell you, that, to all appearance, her charming face will not receive any disfigurement by this cruel enemy to beauty, I am sure you will congratulate me upon a felicity so desirable : but were it to be other- wise, if I were capable of slighting a person, whose principal beauties are much deeper than the skin, I should deserve to be thought the most unworthy and superficial of husbands. Whatever your notions have been, my ever ready censuring Lady Davers, of your brother, on a certain affair, I do assure you, that I never did, and never can, love any woman as I love my Pamela. It is indeed impossible 1 can ever love her better than I do ; atid her outward beauties are far from being indifferent to me ; yet, if I know myself, 1 am sure I have justice enough to love her equally, and generosity enough to be more tender of her, were she to suffer by this distemper. But, as her humility, and her affection to me, would indues her to think herself under greater obligation to me, for such my tenderness to her, were she to lose any the least valuable of her perfections, 1 rejoice that she will have no reason for mortification on that score. My respects to Lord Davers, and your noble neighbours, I -dm, your affectionate brother, and humble servant. LETTER LXIX. From Lady Davers, in Answer to the preceding. MY REAR BROTHER, I DO most heartily congratulate you on the recovery of Master Billy, and the good w iy my sister is in. I am the more rejoiced, as her sweet 3 J) 2 '56 PAMELA. Mrs. B. recovers from her Illness. face is not like to suiter by the malady ; for, be the beaihies of the mind what they will, those of the person are no small recommendation with some folks, I am sure ; and I began to be afraid, that when it was hardly possible for both conjoined to keep a roving mind elonstant, that one only would not be sufficient. This news gives me more pleasure, because 1 am well informed, that a certain gay lady was pleased to give herself airs upon learning of my sister's illness, as That she could not be sorry for it ; for now she should look upon herself as the prettiest woman in England. She meant only, I suppose, as to outward prettincss, brother \ You give me the name of a ready cetisurer. I own, I think myself to be not a little interested in all that regards my brother, and his honour. But when some people are not readier to censure than others to trespass, I know not whether they can with justice be styled censorious. But however that be, the rod seems to have been held up as a warning and that the Mow, in the irreparable deprivation, is not given, is a mercy, which I hope will be deserved ; though you never can those very signal ones you receive at the Divine hands, beyond any man I know. For even (if I shall not be deemed censorious again) your very vices have been turned to your felicity, as if God would try the nobleness of the heart he has given you, by overcoming you (in answer to my sister's constant prayers, as well as mine) by mercies rather than by judgments. I might give instances of the truth of this observation, in almos? all the actions and attempts of your past life ; and take cart (if you are displeased, I will speak it) take care, thou bold wretch, that if this method be un- gratefully slighted, the uplifted arm fall not down with double weight on thy devoted head ! I must always love and honour my brother, but cannot help speaking my mind: which, after all, is the natural result of that very love and honour, and which obliges me to style myself your truly ajfeslionate sister, B. Davers. FETTER LXX. from Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAREST I ADY, MY first letter, and my first devoirs, after those of thankfulness to that gracious God who has so happily conducted me through two such heavy trials, as my child's and my own illness, must be directed to you, with all due acknowledgment of your generous and affectionate concern for me. We are now preparing for our journey to Bedfordshire; and there, to my great satisfaction, I am to be favoured with the care of Miss Goodwin. After tarrying about a month there, Mr. B. will make a tour with me through several counties (taking the hail in the way) for about, a fortnight, PAMELA. 757 Congratulations on Mrs. li.'s Recovery. and shew me what is remarkable, every where as we pass ; for this, he thinks, will better contribute to my health than any other method. The distemper has left upon me a kind of weariness and listlessness ; and he proposes to be out with me till the Bath season begins ; and by the aid of those healing and balsamic waters he hopes I shall be quite established. Afterwards to return to Bedfordshire for a little while ; then to Loudon ; and then to Kent ; and, if nothing hinders, has a great mind to cany me over to Paris. Thus most kindly does he amuse and divert me with his agreeable pro- posals. But I have nitrde one amendment to them ; and that is, that I must not be denied to pay my respects to your ladyship, at your seat, and to my good lady countess in the same neighbourhood, and this will be far from being the least of my pleasures. I have had congratulations without number upon my recovery ; but one, among tbc rest, I did not expect ; from the countess dowager (could you think it, Madam) who sent me by her gentleman the following letter from Tunbridge : " MADAM, " 1 hope, among the congratulations of your numerous admirers, on your happy recovery, my very sincere ones will not be unacceptable. I Invc no other motive for making you my compliments en this occasion, on so slender an acquaintance, than the pleasure it gives me, that the public, as well as your private friends, have not been deprived of a lady whose example, in every duty of life, is of so much concern to both. May you, Madam, long rejoice in an uninterrupted state of happiness, answer- able to your merits, Mid to your own wishes, are those of your most obedient humble servant." To this kind letter I returned the following : " ! I DAM, " 1 am under the highest obligation to sour generous favour, in your kind compliments of congratulation , on my recovery. There is something so noble and so condescending in the honour you have done me, on so -huid'-r an acquaintance, that it bespeaks the exalted mind and character of a lady, who, in the principles of generosity, and in true' nobleness of nature, has no example. May fhu") \Imighty b! ss urn, inv dear lady, with all the good you wish me, and with increase of liciiuur and glory, both here and hereafter, prays, and will always pray, .jour ludi/s/ii/i's most obliged and obedient servant, P. 1$. This leads me to mention, what my illties- vvmld not permit me to do before, that Mr. B. met with luch a recaption and audii net. from the 758 AM EL A. Correspondence continued between Mr. B. and the Conntess Dowager. countess, when he attended her, in all lie had to offer and propose to her, and in her patient hearing of what he thought fit to read her, from your ladyship's letters and mine, that he said, " Don't be jealous, my dear Pamela ; but I must admire her as long as I live." He gave me the particulars, so much to her ladyship's honour, that I told him, he should not only be welcome to admire her ladyship, but that I would admire her too. They parted very good friends, and with great professions of esteem for each other. And as Mr. B. had undertaken to inspect into some excep- tionable accounts and managements of her ladyship's bailiff, one of her servants brought a letter for him on Monday last, wholly written on that subject. But she was so considerate, as to send it unsealed, in a cover directed to me. When I opened it, I was frightened to see it begin to Mr. B. and 1 hastened to find him " Dear Sir Here's some mistake You see the direction i9 to Mrs. B. 'Tis very plain But, upon my word, I have not read it." " Don't-be uneasy, my love. I know what the sub. ject must be ; but I dare swear there is nothing, nor will there ever be, but what you or any body may see." He read it, and giving it to me, said, " Answer yourself the postscript, my dear." That was " If, Sir, the trouble I give you is likely to sub- ject you or your lady to uneasiness or apprehensions, I beg you will not be concerned in it. I will then set about the matter myself; for my uncle I will not trouble ; yet women enter into these particulars with as little advantage to themselves as inclination." I told him, I was entirely easy and unapprehensive ; and, after all his goodness to me, should be so, if he saw the countess every day. ** That's kindly said, my dear; but I will not trust myself to see her everyday, or at all, for the present. But I shall be obliged to correspond with her for a month or so, on this occasion ; unless you prohibit it ; and it shall be in your power to do so." I said, with my whole heart, he might ; and I should be quite easy in both their honours. " Yet I will not," said he, " unless you see our letters : for I know she will always, now she has begun, send in a cover to you, what she will write to me, unsealed ; and whether I am at home or abroad, I shall take it unkindly, if you do not read them." He went in, and wrote an answer, which he sent by the messenger; but would make me, whether I would or not, read it, and seal it up with his seal. But all this needed not to me now, who think so much better of the lady than I did before ; and am so well satisfied in his own honour and generous affection for me ; for you saw, Madam, in what I wrote before, that he always loved me, though he was angry at times, at my PAMELA. 759 Letter from Mrs. B. to Miss Darnt'orti. change of temper, as he feared, not knowing that I was apprised of what had passed between him and the countess. I really am better pleased with this correspondence than I should have been had it not been carried on ; because the servants, on both sides, will see, by my deportment on the occasion (and I will officiously, with a smiling countenance, throw myself in their observation) that it is quite innocent ; and this may help to silence the mouths of those who have so freely censured their conduct. Indeed, Madam, I think I have received no small good myself by that affair, which once lay so heavy upon me : for I don't believe I shall be ever jealous again ; indeed I don't think I shall. And won't that be an ugly foible overcome ? I see what may be done, in cases not favourable to our wishes, by the aid of proper reflection ; and that the bee is not the only creature that may make honey out of the bitter flowers as well as th* sweet. My most grateful respects and thanks to my good Lord Davers ; to the earl and his excellent countess ; and most particularly to Lady Betty (with whose kind compliments your ladyship acquaints me) and to Mr. H. for all your united congratulations on my recovery. What obligations do I lie under to such noble and generous well-wishes ! I can make no return but my prayers, that God by his goodness will supply all my defects. And these will always attend you, from, my dearest lady, your obliged sister and humble servant, P. B. Mr. H. is just arrived. He says, he comes a special messenger, to make a report how my face has come off. He makes me many compliments upon it. How kind your ladyship is, to enter so favourably into the minutest concerns, which you think may any way effect my future happiness in your dear brother's opinion! I want to pour out all my joy and my thankfulness to God, before you and the good Countess of C ! For I am a happy, yea, a blessed creature ! Mr. B.'s boy, your ladyship's boy, and my boy, is charmingly well ; quite strong, and very forward, for his months, and his papa is delighted with him more and more. LETTER LXXI. MY DEAR MISS DAKNFORD, 1 HOPE you are happy and well. You kindly say you can't be so, till you hear of my perfect recovery. And this, blessed be God ! you have heard already from Mr. B. As to your intimation of the fair Nun, 'tis all happily over. Blessed be God for that too ! And 1 have a better and more endearing husband than ever. Did you think that could be ? My Billy too improves daily, and my clear parents seem to have thei 3 d 1 760 PAMELA. Matrimonial Proposition between Mr. H. and Miss Pamforrl. youth renewed like the eagle's. How many blessings have I to be thank- ful for ! We are about to turn travellers, to the northern counties. I think quite to the borders : and afterwards to the western, to Bath, Bristol, and I know not whither myself : but among the rest, to Lincolnshire, that you may be sure of. Then how happy shall I be in my dear Miss Darnford! I long to hear whether poor Mrs. Jevvkes is better or worse for the advice of the doctor, whom 1 ordered to attend her from Stamford, and in what frame her mind is. Do vouchsafe her a visit in my name ; tell her, if she be low spirited, what God hath done for me, as to my recovery, and comfort her all you can ; and bid her spare neither expense nor attendance, nor any thing her heart can wish for ; nor the company of any relations or friends she may desire to be with her. Jf she is in her last stage, poor soul ! how noble will it be in you to give her comfort and consolation in her dying hours ! Although we can merit nothing at the hand of God, yet I have a notion, that we cannot deserve more of one another, and in some sense, for that reason, of Him, than in our charities on so trying an exigence ! When the poor soul stands shiver- ing, as it were, on the verge of death, and has nothing strong, but its fears and doubts; then a little balm poured into the wounds of the mind, a little comforting advice to rely on God's mercies, from a good person, how consolatory must it be ! And how, like morning mists before the sun, must al! diffidences and gloomy doubts, be chased away by it ! But, my dear, the great occasion of my writing to you just now, is, by Lady Davers's desire, on a quite, different subject. She knows how we love one another. And she lias sent me the following lines by her kins- man, who came to Kent, purposely to enquire how my face fared in the smallpox ; and accompanied us hither [i. e. to Bedfordshire] and sets out Jo-morrow for Lord Davers's. " MT DEAR PAMELA, " Jackev will tell you the reason of his journey, my curiosity on your own account; and I send this letter by him, but he knows not the con- tents. My good Lord Davers wants to have his nephew married, and settled in the world : and his nohle father leaves the whole matter to my lord, as to the person, settlements, &c. Now I, as well as he, think so highly of the prudence, the person, and family of your Miss Darnford, that we shall be ohliged to you, to sound the young lady on this score. " I know Mr. H. would wish for no greater happiness. But if she is engaged, or cannot love my nephew, 1 don't care, nor would my lord, that such a proposal should be received with undue slight. His birth, and the title and estate he is heir to, are advantage* that require a lady's PAMELA. 761 Matrimonial Engagements of Sir. Williams and of Mr. Adams. consideration. He has not so much wit as Miss, but enough for a lord, whose friends are born before him, as the phrase is ; is very good humoured, no fool, no sot, no debauchee: and, let me tell you, this is not to be met with every day in a young man of quality. " As to settlements, fortunes, &c. 1 fancy there would be no great difficulties. The business is, if Miss Darnford could love him well enough for a husband ? That we leave you to sound the young lady ; and if she thinks she can, we will directly begin a treaty with Sir Simon. I am, my dearest Pamela, your ever affectionate sister, B. Davers." Now, my dear friend, as my lady has so well stated the case, I beg you to enable me to return an answer. I will not say one word p ro or co?i. till I know your mind Only, that I think he is good humoured, and might he easily persuaded to any thing a lady should think reasonable. I must tell you another piece of news in the matrimonial way. Mr. Williams has been here to congratulate us on our multiplied blessings ; and he acquainted Mr. B. that an overture lias been made him by his new patron, of a kinswoman of his lordship's, a person of virtue and merit, and a fortune of three thousand pounds, to make him amends, as the earl tells him, for quitting a better living to oblige him ; and that he is in great hope of obtaining the lady's consent, which is all that is wanting. Mr. B. is much pleased with so good a prospect in Mr. Williams's favour, and was in the lady's company formerly at a ball, at Gloucester; he says, 6he is prudent and deserving ; and offers to make a journey on purpose to forward it, if he can be of service to him. I suppose you know that all is adjusted, according to the scheme I for- merly acquainted you with*, between Mr. Adams and that gentleman; and both are settled in their respective livings. But 1 ought to have told you, that Mr. Williams, upon mature deliberation, declined the stipulated eighty pounds per annum from Mr. Adams, as be thought it would have a simoniacal appearance. But now my hand's in, let mr tell you of a third matrimonial proposi- tion, which gives me more puzzle and dislike a great deal. And that is, Mr. Adams has, with great reluctance, and after abundance of bashful apologies, asked me, if I have any objection to bis making hi? addresses to Folly Barlow ; which, however, he told me, he h;id not mentioned to her, nor to any body li\ing, because' he would first know whetiicr I should t;ike it amiss, as her servicer was so immediately about my person. This unexpected motion much perplexed mr. Mr. Adams is a worthy m;m. He has now a very good living; yet just entered upon it; and, 1 think, according to bis accustomed prudence in other respects, had better have turner! himself about first. See her journal of TuricUv, Letter XXIX. I'nt II. 761 PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. Adams and Polly Bartow. , But that is not the point with ine neither. I have a great regard to the function. I think it is as necessary, in order to preserve the respect due to the clergy, that their wives should he nearly, if not quite as un- blemished, and as circumspect, as themselves ; and this for the gentleman's own sake, as well as in the eye of the world : for how shall he pursue his studies with comfort to himself, if made uneasy at home ? or how shall he expect his female parishioners will regard his public preaching, if he cannot have a due influence over the private conduct of his wife ? I can't say, excepting in the instance of Mr. H. but Polly is a good sort of body enough so far as I know ; hut that is such a blot in the poor girl's escutcheon, a thing not accidental, nor surprised into, not owing to inat- tention, but to cool premeditation, that I think I could wish Mr. Adams a wife more unexceptionable. 'Tis true, Mr. Adams knows not this; but that is one of my difficulties. If I acquaint him with it, I shall hurt the poor girl irreparably, and deprive her of a husband, to whom she may possibly make a good wife For she is not very meanly descended much better than myself, as the world would say, were a judgment to be made from my father's low estate when I was exalted I never, my dear, shall be ashamed of these retro- spections ! she is genteel, has a very innocent look, a good face, is neat in her person, and not addicted to any excess that I know of. But, still, that one premeditated fault is so sad an one, though she might make a good wife for any middling man of business, yet she wants, methinks, that discre- tion, that purity, which I would always have in the wife of a good clergyman. Then, she has not applied her thoughts to that sort of economy which the wife of a country clergyman ought to know something of; and has such a turn to dress and appearance, that I can see, if indulged, she would not be one that would help to remove the scandal which some severe remarkers are apt to throw upon the wives of parsons, as they call them. The maiden, I believe, likes Mr. Adams not a little. She is very cour- teous to every body, but most to him of any body, and never has missed being present at our Sunday's duties ; and five or six times, Mrs. Jervis tells me, she has found her desirous to have Mr. Adams expound this text, and that difficulty ; and the good man is taken with her piety, which, and her reformation, I hope is sincere ; but she is very sly, very subtle, as I have found in several instances, as foolish as she was in the affair I hint at. " So," sometimes I say to myself, " the girl may love Mr. Adams." " Ay," but then I answer, " so she did Mr. H. and on his own very bad terms too." In short but I won't be too censorious neither. So I'll say no more, than that I was perplexed ; and yet should be very PAMELA. 763 Particular* of Mr. Adams and Polly Barlow. glad to have Polly well married ; for, since that time, I have always had some diffidences about her Because, you know, Miss her fault was so enormous, and, as I have said, so premeditated. I wanted you to advise with. But this was the method I took. I appointed Mr. Adams to drink a dish of tea with me. Polly attended, as usual ; for I can't say I love men attendants in these womanly offices. A tea kettle in a man's hand, that would, if there was no better employment for him, be fitter to hold a plough, or handle a flail, or a scythe, has such a look with it '. This is like my low breeding, some would say, perhaps but I cannot call things polite, that I think unseemly ; and moreover, Lady Davers keeps me in countenance in this my notion ; and who doubts her politeness ? Well, but Polly attended, as I said ; and there were strange simperings, and bowing, and curtseying, between them ; the honest gentleman seeming not to know how to let his mistress wait upon him ; while she behaved with as much respect and officiousness, as if she could not do too much for him. " Very well," thought I, " I have such an opinion of your veracity, Mr. Adams, that I dare say you have not mentioned the matter to Polly ; but between her officiousness, and your mutual simperings and complai- sance, I see you have found a language between yon, that is full as signi- ficant as plain English words. Polly," thought I, " sees no difficulty in this text ; nor need you, Mr. Adams, have much trouble to make her understand you, when you come to expound upon this subject." I was forced, in short, to put on a statelier and more reserved appear- ance than usual, to make thein avoid acts of complaisance for one an- other, that might not he proper to be shewn before me, for one who sat as my companion, to my servant. When she withdrew the modest gentleman hemmed, and looked on one side, ami turned to the right and left, as if bis seat was uneasy to him, and, I saw, knew not how to speak ; so I began in mere compassion to him, and said " Mr. Adams, I have been thinking of what you men- tioned to me, ;\- to Polly Barlow." " Hem ! hem !" said he ; and pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped his mouth " Very well, Madam ; 1 hope no offence, Madam !" " No, Sir, none at all. But I am at a loss how to distinguish in this case ; whether it may not be from a motive of too humble gratitude, that you don't think yourself above matching with Polly, as you may sup- pose her a favourite of mine ; or whether it be your value for her person and qualities, that makes her more agreeable in your eyes than any other person would be." " Madam Madam," said the bashful gentleman, hesitatingly " I do I must needs say I can't hut own that Mrs. Mary is a person whom I think very agreeable ; and no less modest and virtuous." 764 PAMELA. Particulars of Mr. Adams and P Duwjitrd, in Antivcr to the preceding. MY LEAK Mils. 11. 1 HAVE been several times (in company with Mr. Peters) to sec Mrs. J..-wkcs. The poor woman is very bad, and cannot live many days. We comfort her all we can ; but she often accuses herself of her p.Lst In bavioui to so excellent a lady ; and with blessings upon blessings, heaped upon voii, and her master, and \oiir (banning little bey, is continually declaring bow much your goodliess to her aggravates her former faults to her own conscience. She has 4 sister-in-law and her niece with her, and has settled all her 766 PAMELA. Miss Darnford's Objections to Mr. II. affairs, and thinks she is not long for this world. Her distemper is an inward decay, all at once as it were, from a constitution that seemed like one of iron; and she is a mere skeleton : you would not know her, I dare say. I will see her every day ; and she has given me up all her keys, and accompts, to give to Mr. Longman, who is daily expected, and I hope will" be here soon; for her sister-in-law, she says herself, is a woman of this world, as she has been. Mr. Peters calling upon me to go with him to visit her, I will break off here. Mrs. Jewkes is much as she was ; but your faithful steward is come. I am glad of it and so is she Nevertheless I will go every day, and do all the good I can for the poor woman, according to your charitable desires. I thank you for your communication of Lady Davers's letter. I am much obliged to my lord, and her ladyship ; and should have been proud of an alliance with that noble family ; but with all Mr. H.'s good qualities, as my lady paints them out, and his other advantages, 1 could not, for the world, make him my husband. I'll tell you one of my objections, in confidence, however (for yon are only to sound me, you know) and I would not have it mentioned that 1 have taken any thought about the matter, because a stronger reason may be given, such an one as my lord and lady will both allow ; which I will communicate to you by and by. My objection arises even from what you intimate, of Mr. H.'s good humour, and his persuadableness, if I may so call it. Now, were I of a boisterous temper, and high spirit, such an one as required great patience in a hus- band to bear with n\e, then Mr. H.'s good humour might have been a consideration with me. But when 1 have (1 pride myself in the thought) a temper not wholly unlike your own, and such an one as would not want to contend for superiority with a husband, it is no recommendation to me, that Mr. H. is a good humoured gentleman, and will bear with faults I design not to be guilty of. But, my dear Mrs. B. my husbai ! must be a man of sense, and give me reason to think he has a superior judgment to my own, or I shall be unhappy. He will otherwise do wrong headed things : I shall be forced to oppose him in them : he will be tenacious and obstinate, be taught totalk of prerogative, and to call himself a man, without knowing how to behave as one, and I to despise him of course ; so be deemed a bad wife, when, I hope, I have qualities that would make me a tolerable good one, with a man of sense for my husband. You know who says, " For fools" {Pardon me this harsh word, 'lis in my author) " For fools are stubborn to their way, As coins are hardened by th' allay ; PAMELA. 767 Miss Darnford's Objections to Mr. H. Aod obstinacy's ne'er so stiff, As when 'tis in a wrong belief. Now you must not think I would dispense with real good humour in a man. No, I make it one of my indispensable* in a husband. A good natured man will put the best constructions on what happens ; but he must have sense to distinguish the best.' He will be kind to little, unwilful, undesigned failings : but he must have judgment to distinguish what are or are not so. But Mr. H.'s good humour is softness, as I may call it ; and my husband must be such an one, in short, as I need not be ashamed to be seen with in company ; one who, being my head, must not be beneath all the gentleman he may happen to fall in with, and who, every time he is adjusting his mouth for speech, will give me pain at my heart, and blushes in my face, even before he speaks. I could not bear, therefore, that every one we encountered should be prepared, whenever he offered to open his lips, by their contemptuous smiles, to expect some weak and silly things from him ; and when he had spoken, that he should, with a booby grin, seem pleased that he had not disappointed them. i The only recommendatory point in Mr. H. is, th.it he dresses exceedV ingly smart, and is no contemptible figure of a man. But, dear Madam, you know, that's so much the worse, when the man's talent is not taci- turnity, except before his aunt, or before Mr. B. or you ; when he is not conscious of internal defect, and values himself upon outward appearance. As to his attempts upon your Polly, though 1 don't like him the better for it, yet it is a fault so wickedly common among men, that when a woman resolves never to marry till a quite virtuous man addresses her, it is, in other words, resolving to die single : so that 1 make not this the chief objection ; and yet, I would abate in my expectations of half a dozen other good qualities, rather than that one of virtue in a husband But when 1 reflect upon the figure Mr. H. made in that affair, 1 cannot brar him ; and, if I may judge of other coxcombs by him, what wretches are these smart, well-dressing querpo fellows, many of whom you and I have seen admiring themselves at the plays and operas ! This is one of my infallible rules, and I know it is your's too ; that he who is taken up with th'i admiration of his own person, will never admire a wife's. His delights are centred in himself, and he will not wish to get out of that exceeding narrow circle ; and, in my opinion, should keep no company but that of tailors, wig-puffers, and milliners. But I will run on no further upon this subject ; but will tell you a reason, which you may give to Lady Davers, why her kind intentions to me cannot be answered ; and which she'll take better than what I have t lid, were she to know it, as I hope you won't let her : and this is, my papa has had a proposal made to him from a gentleman you have seen. 763 PAMELA. Wrangling of Sir. and Mrs. Murray. and have thought polite. It is from Sir VV. G. of this county, who is one of your great admirers, and Mr. B.'s too ; and that, yuu must suppose, makes uie have never the worse opinion of him, or of his understanding ; although it-requires no great sagacity or penetration to see how much you adorn our sex, and human nature too. Every tiling was adjusted hetween my papa and mamma, and Sir William, on condition we approved of each other, before I came down ; which I knew not till I had seen him here four times ; and then my papa surprised me into half an approbation of him : and this, it seems, was one of the reasons why I was so hurried down from you. I can't say but I like the man as well as most 1 have seen ; he is a man of sense and sobriety, to give him his due ; in very easy circumstances, and much respected by all who know him; which is no bad earnest in a marriage prospect. But, hitherto, he seems to like me better than I do him. I don't know how it is ; but I often observe, that when any thing is in our power we are not half so much taken with it as we should he, perhaps, if we were kept in suspense ! Why should this be ? But this 1 am con- vinced of, there is no comparison between Sir William and Mr. Murray. Now I have named this brother-in-law of mine ; what do you think ? Why, that good couple have had their house on fire three times already. Once it was put out by Mr. Murray's mother, who lives near them ; and twice Sir Simon has been forced to carry water to extinguish it ; for truly Mrs. Murray would go home again to her papa : she would not live with such a surly wretch : and it was with all his heart ; a fair riddance ! for there was no bearing the house with such an ill natured wife: her sister Polly was worth a thousand of her ! I am heartily sorry for their unhappiness. But could she think every body must bear with her, and her fretful ways ? They'll jangle on, I reckon, till they are better used to one another; and when he sees she can't help it, why he'll bear with her, as husbands generally do with ill tempered wives ; he'll try to make himself happy abroad, and leave her to quarrel with her maids, instead of him ; for she must have somebody to vent her spleen upon poor Nancy ! I am glad to hear of Mr. Williams's good fortune. As Mr. Adams knows not Polly's fault, and it was prevented in time, they may be happy enough. She is a sly girl. I always thought her so : something so innocent, and yet so artful in her very looks : she is an odd compound. But these worthy and piously turned young gentlemen, who have but just quitted the college, are mere novices, as to the world : indeed they are above it, while in it ; they therefore give themselves little trouble to study it, and so, depending on the goodness of their own hearts, are more liable to be imposed upon than people of half their under- standing. I think ; since, he seems to love her, you do right not to hinder the girl's PAMELA. 769 Death of Mrs. Jewkes. fortune. But I wish she may take your advice, in her behaviour to him, at least : for as to her carriage to her neighbours, I doubt she'll be one of the heads of the parish, presently, in her own estimation. 'Tis pity, methinks, any worthy man of the cloth should 'haVe a wife, who, by her bad example, should pull down, as fast as be, by a good one, can build up. This is not the case of Mrs. Peters, however ; whose example I wish was more generally followed by gentlewomen, who are made so by marrying good clergymen, if they were not so before. Don't be surprised, if you should hear that poor Jevvkes is given over ! I know you'll shed a tear for the poor woman : I can't help it myself. But you Will be pleased that she had so much time given her, and made to good use of it. Mr. Peters has been every thing that one would wish one of his function to be, in his attendance and advice to the poor woman, Mr. Longman will take proper care of every thing. So, 1 will only add, that I am, with the sineerest respect, in hopes to see you soon (for I have a multitude of things to talk to you about) dear Mrs. B. your ever faithful and affectionate Polly Darnford. BETTER LXXIII. From Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAR LADY DAVERS, t UNDERSTAND from Miss Darnford, that before she went down from us her papa had encouraged a proposal made by Sir W. G. whom you aw, when your ladyship was a kind visitor in Bedfordshire. We all agreed, if you remember, that he was a polite and sensible gentleman, and I find it is countenanced on all hands. Poor Mrs. Jewkes, Madam, as Miss informs me, has paid her last debt. I hope, through mercy, she is hpppy ! Poor, poor woman ! But why say I so ! Since, in that case, she will be rieher than an earthly monarch ! Your ladyship wa3 once mentioning a sister of Mrs. Worden's whom you wished to recommend to some worthy family. Shall I beg of you, Madam, to oblige Mr. B.'s in this particular? I am sure she must have merit if your ladyship thinks well of her ; and your commands in this, as well as in every other particular in my power, shall have their due weight with your ladyship's obliged sister and humble servant, I'. B. Just now, dear Madam, Mr. B. tells me I shall have Miss Goodwin brought me hither to-morrow. LETrER LXXIV. From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. in Answer to the preceding. MY DEAR PAMELA, I AM glad Miss Darnford is likely to be so happy in a husband', as Sir W. G. will certainly make her. 1 was afraid that my proposal would not I 25 3 b 77 PAMELA. Mrs. Oldham recommended by Lady Davers. do with her, had she net had so good a tender. I want too, to have the foolish fellow married for several reasons; one of which is, he is conti- nually teasing u to permit him to go up to town, and reside there for some month.;, in order that he may see the world, as he calls it. But we are convinced he would feel it, as well as see it, if we give way to his request : for in understanding, dress, and inconsiderate vanity, he is so exactly cut out and sized for a town fop, coxcomb, or pretty fellow, that be will undoubtedly fall into all the vices of those people ; and, perhaps, having such expectations as he has, will be made the property of rakes and harpers. He complains that we use him like a child in a gocart, or a baby with leading-strings, and that he must not be trusted out of our sight. 'Tis a sad thing, that these bodies will grow up to the stature of men, when the minds improve not at all with them, but are still those of boys and children. Yet, he would certainly make a fond husband : for he has no very bad qualities. But is such a Narcissus ! But this between ourselves, for his uncle is wrapt up in the fellow And why ? Because he is good-humoured, that's all. He has vexed me lately, which makes me write so angrily about him But 'tis nt w&rth troubling you with the particulars. I hope Mrs. Jewkes is happy f as you say ! Poor woman ! she seemed to promise for a longer life ! But what shall we say ? Your compliment to me, about my Beck's sister, is a very kind one. Mrs. Oldham is a sober, grave widow, a little aforehand in the world, but not much ; has lived well ; understands household management tho- roughly ; is diligent ; and has a turn to serious things, which will make you like her the better. I'll order Beck and her to wait on you, and she will satisfy you in every thing as to what you may, or may not expect of her. You can't think how kindly I take this motion from you. You forget nothing that can oblige your friends. Little did I think you would remem- ber me of (wh.it I had forgotten in a manner) my favourable opinion and wishes for her expressed so long ago. But you are what you are a dear obliging creature. Beck is all joy and gratitude upon it ; and her sister had rather serve you than the princess. You need be under no difficulties about terms : she would serve you for nothing, if you would accept of her service. I am glad, because it p!ea=es you so much, that Miss Goodwin will be soon put into your care. It will be happy for the child, and I hope she will be so dutiful as to give you no pain for your generous goodness to her. Her mamma has sent me a present of some choice products of that climate, with acknowledgments of my kindness to Miss. I will send part of it to you by your new servant ; for so I presume to call her already. PAMELA. 771 Letter from Mrs. Wrightson to Mrs. B. What a naughty sister are you, however, to be so far advanced again as to be obliged to shorten yur intended excursions, and yet not to send me word of it yourself ? Don't you know how much 1 interest myself in every thing that makes for my brother's happiness and yours ? more espe- cially in so material a point as is the increase of a family that it is my boast to be sprung from. Yet I must find this out by accident, and by other hands ! Is not this very slighting! But never do so again, and I'll forgive you now, because of the joy it gives me ; who am your truly affec- tionate and obliged sister, B. Davers. I thank you for your book upon the plays you saw. Inclosed is a list of some others which I desire you to read, and to oblige me with your remarks upon them at your leisure ; though you may not, perhaps, have seen them by the time you will favour me with your observations. LETTER LXXV. From Mrs. B. to Lady Davers. MY DEAR LADY DAVERS, I HAVE a valuable present made me by the same lady : and therefore hope you will not take it amiss, that with abundance of thanks, I return yours by Mrs. Worden, whose sister 1 much approve of, and thank your ladyship for your kind recommendation of so worthy a person. We begin with so much good liking to one another, that I doubt not we shall be very happy together. A moving letter, much more valuable to me than the handsome present, was put into my hands, at the same time with that ; of which the follow- ing is & copy : From Mrs. Wrightson {formerly Miss Sally Godfrey) to Mrs. B. " HAfPY, DESERVEDLY HAPPY, DEAR LADY, " PERMIT these lines to kiss your hands from one, who though she is a stranger to your person, is not so to your character : tliut has reached us here, in this remote part of the world, where you have as many ad- mirers as have heard of you. But I more particularly am bound to be so, by an obligation, which 1 can never discharge, but by my daily prayers for you, and the blessings I continually implore upon you and yours. I ean write my whole mind to you, though I cannot, from the moit deplorable infelicity, receive from you the wished for favour of a few lines in return, written with the same unreservedness : so unhappy am I, from the effects of an inconsideration and weakness on one hand, and temptation on the other, which you, at a tender age, most nobly, for your own honour, and that of your sex, have escaped : whilst I but let my tears in these blots speak the rest as my heart bleeds, and has con- .'. E 2 772 PAMELA. , , ,: ,'ir li 1 , .i.i, - , ., : ., . , , ' ~ Letter from Mrs. Wrightsrm to Mrs. B. stantly bled ever since, at the grievous remembrance but believe me, however, dear Madam, that 'tis shame and sorrow, and not pride and impenitence, that make me loath to speak out, to so much purity of life and manners, my own odious weakness,. " 'Nevertheless, I ought, and I will accuse myself by name. Imagine then, illustrious lady, truly illustrious for virtues, infinitely superior to all the advantages of birth and ^fortune ! Imagine, I say, that in this letter, you see before you the once guilty, and therefore I doubt, always guilty, but ever penitent, Sarah Godfrey ; the unhappy, though fond and tender mother of the poor infant, to whom your generous goodness has, I bear, extended itself, so as to make you desirous of taking her under your worthy protection : God for ever bless you for it ! prays an indulgent mother, who admires, at an awful distance, that virtue in you which she could not practise herself. " And will you, dearest lady, take under your own immediate protec- tion, the poor unguilty infant ? will you love her, for the sake of her suf- fering mamma, whom you know not \ for the sake of the gentleman, now so dear to you, and so worthy of you, as I hear, with pleasure, he is ? And will you, by the best example in the world, give me a moral assurance, that she will never sink into the fault, the weakness, the crime (1 ought not to scruple to call it so) of hex poor inconsiderate But you are her mamma now : I will not think of a guilty one therefore. What, a joy is it to me, in the midst of my heavy reflections on my past misconduct, that my beloved Sally cau boast a virtuous and innocent mamma, who has with- stood the snares and temptations, that have been so fatal elsewhere ! and whose example, and instructions, next to God's grace, will be the strongest fences to her honour! Once more I say, and on my knees I write it, God for ever bless you here, and augment your joys hereafter, for your generous goodness to my poor, and, till now, motherless infant. " I hope she, by her duty and obligingness, will do all in her little power to make you amends, and never give you cause to repent of this your unexampled kindness to her and to me. She cannot, I hope (except ner mother's crime has had an influence upon her, too much like that of an original stain) be of a sordid, or an ungrateful nature. And, O my poor Sally ! if you are, and if you ever fail in your duty to your new mamma, to whose care and authority I transfer my whole right in you, remember that you have no more a mamma in me, nor can you be entitled to my blessing, or my prayers, which I make now, on that only condition, your implicit obedience to all your new mamma's commands and directions. " You may have the curiosity, Madam, to wish to know how I live : for no doubt you have heard all my sad, sad story !< Know, then, that I am as happy as a poor creature can be, who has once so deplorably, so inex- PAMELA. 77S - - * Letter from Mrs. Wrightson to Mi's. B. cusably fallen. I have a worthy gentleman for my husband, who married me as a widow, whose only child by my former was the care of her papa's friends, particularly of good Lady Davers and her brother. Poor unhappy I ! to be under such a sad necessity to disguise the truth I Mr. Wrightson (whose name I am unworthily honoured by) has often entreated me to send for the poor child, and to let her be joined as his killing thought, that it cannot be ! with two children I have by him '. Judge, my good lady, how that very generosity, which, had I been guiltless, would have added to my joys, must wound me deeper, than even ungenerous or unkind usage from him could do ! and how heavy that crime must lie upon me, which turns my very pleasures to misery, and fixes all the joy I can know, in repentance for my past misdeeds ! How happy are you, Madam, on the contrary ; You, who have nothing of this sort to pall, nothing to min- gle with your felicities ! who, blessed in an honour untainted, and a con- science that cannot reproach you, arc enabled to enjoy every well deserved comfort, as it offers itself; and can improve it too, by reflection on your past conduct ! While mine, alas ! like a winter frost, nips in the bud every rising satisfaction. " My husband is rich as well as generous, and very tender of me Happy, if I could think myse{f as deserving as he thinks me ! My prin- cipal comfort, as I hinted, is in my penitence for my past faults ; and that I have a merciful God for my judge, who knows that penitence to be sincere ! * " You may guess, Madam, from what I have said, in what light I must appear here ; and if you would favour me with a line or two, in answer to the letter you have now in your hand, it will be one of the greatest pleasures I can receive : a pleasure next to that which I have received in knowing, that the gentleman you love best has had the grace to repent of all his evils ; has early seen his errors ; and has thereby, I hope, freed two persons from being, one day, mutual accusers of each other ; for now I please myself to think, that the crimes of both may be washed away in the blood of that Saviour Gon, whom both have so grievously offended ! " May that God, who has not suffered me to be abandoned entirely to my own shame, as I deserved, continue to shower down upon you those ble ^ings, which a virtue like yours may expect from his mercy ! May you long be happy in the possession of all you wish! and late, very late, (for the good of thousands, I wish this) may you receive the reward of your piety, your generosity, and your filial, your social, and conjugal virtues ! are the prayers of your most unworthy admirer, and obliged humble servant, " Sarah Wrightson." " Mr. Wrightson begs your acceptance of a small present, part of which can have no value, but what its excelling qualities, for what it is, will give 3 e 3 774 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Answer to Mrs. Wrightson's Letter. it at so great a distance as that dear England, which I once left with so much shame and regret ; but with a laudable purpose, however, because I would not incur still greater shame, and of consequence give cause for still greater regret !" To this letter, my dear Lady Davers, I have written the following answer, which Mr. B. will take care to have conveyed to her : " DEAREST MADAM, " I embrace with great pleasure the opportunity you have so kindly given me, of writing to a lady whose person though I have not the honour to know, yet whose character, and noble quality, I truly revere. " I am infinitely obliged to you, Madam, for the precious trust you have reposed in me, and the right you make over to me, of your maternal interest in a child, on whom I set ray heart, the moment I saw her. *' Lady Davers, whose love and tenderness for Miss, as well for her mamma's sake, as your late worthy spouse's, had from her kind opinion of me consented to grant me this favour ; and I was, by Mr. B.'s leave, in actual possession of my pretty ward about a week before your kind letteY came into my hands. " As I had been long very solicitous for this favour, judge how welcome your kind concurrence was : and the rather, as, had I known, that a letter from you was on the way'to me, 1 should have feared you would insist upon depriving the surviving friends of her dear papa, of the pleasure they take in the dear child. Indeed, Madam, I believe we should ooe and all have joined to disobey you, had that been the case ; and it is a great satisfaction to us, that we are not under so hard a necessity, as to dispute with a tender mamma the possession of her own child. " Assure yourself, worthiest Madam, of a care and tenderness in me to the dear child truly maternal, and answerable, as much as in my power, to the trust you repose in me. The little boy that God has given me shall not be more dear to me than my sweet Miss Goodwin shall be ; and my care, by God's grace, shall extend to her future as well as to her present prospects, that she may be worthy of that piety, and truly religious excellence, which I admire in your character. " We all rejoice, dear Madam, in the acceunt you give of your present happiness. IC was impossible that God Almighty should desert a lady so exemplarily deserving ; and He certainly conducted you in your reso- lutions to abandon every thing that you loved in England, after the loss of your dear spouse, because it seems to have been his intention that you should reward the merit of Mr. Wrightson, and meet with your own reward in so doing. " Miss is very fond of my little Billy : she is a charming child, is easy PAMELA. 775 Mrs. B.' Answi-r to >lr. WrighUoa's Letter. and genteel in her shape, and very pretty ; she dances finely, has a sweet air, and is improving every day in music ; works with her needle, and reads admirably for her years ; and takes a delight in both, which givet me no small pleasure. But she is not very forward in her penmanship, as you will see by what follows : the inditing too is her own ; but in that, and the writing, she took a good deal of time, on a separate paper. * DEAREST DEAR MAMMA, ' Your Sally is full of joy, to have any commands from her honoured mamma. I promise to follow all your directions. Indeed, and upon my word, I will. You please me mightily in giving me so dear a new mamma here. Now I know indeed I have a mamma, and I will love and obey her, as if she was your own self. Indeed I will. You must always bless me, because I will be always good. I hope you will believe me, because I am above telling fibs. I am, my honoured mamma, on the other side of the water, and ever will be, as if you was here, your dutiful daughter, * Sally Goodwin.' " Miss (permit me, dear Madam, to subjoin) is a very good tempered child, easy to be persuaded, and I hope loves me dearly ; and I will endeavour to make her love me better and better ; for on that love will depend the regard which, I hope, she will pay to all I shall say and do for her good. " Repeating my acknowledgments for the kind trust you repose in me, and with thanks for the valuable present you have sent me, we all here join in respects to worthy Mr. Wrightson, and in wishing you, Madam, a continuance and increase of worldly felicity ; and 1 particularly beg leave to assure you, that I am, and ever will be, with the highest respect and gratitude, though personally unknown, dearest Madam, the affectionate admirer of your piety, and your obliged humble servant, P. B." Your ladyship will see how I was circumscribed and limited ; otherwise 1 would have said (what 1 have mentioned more than once) how I admire and honour her for her penitence, and for that noble resolution, which enabled her to do what thousands could not have had the heart to do, abandon her country, her relations, friends, baby, and all that was dear to her, as well as the seducer, whom she too well loved, and hazard the sea, the dangers of pirates, and possibly of other wicked attempters of the mischievous sex, in a world she knew nothing of, among strangers : and all to avoid repeating a sin she had been unhappily drawn into; and for which she still abhors herself. Must not such a lady as this, dear Madam, have as much merit as many even of those, who, having not had her temptations, have not fallen ? This, at kast, one may aver, 'that next to not committing an error, is the 3 F. 4 7.7 " suppose me at a distance from you, can- not you give me your remarks in the same manner, as if you were writing to Lady Davers, or to Miss Darnford, tliat was ':" " Yes, Sir, depending on your kind favour to me, I believe I could." " Do then; and the less restraint you write with, the more I shall be pleased with it. Hut I confine you not to time or plate. We will make our excursions as I once proposed ; and do you write to me now and then upon the subject ; for the places and remarkables you will see, will bi- new only to yourself; nor will either of those ladies expect from you an itine- rary, or a particular description of countries, which aie better described by authors, who have made it their business to treat upon those subjects By this means, you will be usefully employed in your own way, which may turn to good account to us both, and to the dear children which it may please God to bestow upon u^." " You don't expect, Sir, any thing regular, or digested from me ':" " I don't, my dear. Let your fancy and your judgment !< both em- ployed, and I require no method ; for I know, in your easy, natural way, that would be a confinement, which would cramp your gt nius, and <;ive what yc*u write a stiff, formal air, that I might expect in a pedagogue, but not in my Pamela." " Well, but, Sir, although 1 may write nothing to the purpose, yet it' Lady Davers desires it, you will allow ni" to trauiinit what I shall write to her, when you have perused it your^ell - for your good si-'i 1 indulgent to my sCribble, she. will ex] e = because she is indulged with the good opinion of her friends in a few, which are supposed to be within her own capacity. For, I humbly conceive, that it is no small point of wisdom to know, and not to mistake, one's own talents : and for this reason, permit me, Sir, to suspend, till I am better qualified for it, even my own proposal of beginning my little book ; and, in the mean time, to touch upon a few places of the admirable author, that seem to me to warrant another way of thinking, than that which he prescribes. But, dear Sir, let me premise, that all that your dear babies can de- mand of my attention for some time to come is their health ; and God has blessed them with such sound limbs, ant!, to all appearance, good constitutions, that I have very little to do, but to pray for them every time 1 pray for their dear papa ; and that is hourly ; and yet not so often as you confer upon me benefits and favours, and new. obligation-, even to the prevention of all my wishes, were I to sit down and study for what must be the next. As to this point of health, Mr. Locke gives these plain, and easy to be observed rules. He prescribes, first, plenty nf open air. That this is right, the infant will inform one, who, though it cannot speak, will tnake signs to be car- ried abroad, and is never so well pleased, as when enjoying the open and free air ; for which reason I conclude, that this is out* of those natural pointings, as I may say, that are implanted in every creature, teaching it to choose its good, and to avoid its evil. Sleep is the next, which he enjoins to be indulged to its utmost extent : an admirable rule, as I humbly conceive ; since sound sleep is one of the greatest nourishcrs of nature, both to the once young and to the twice young, if I may use the phrase. And I the rather approve of this rule, because it keeps the nurse unemployed, who otherwise may be doing it the greatest mischief, by cramming and stuffing' its little bowels, till ready to burst. And, if 1 am right, what an inconsiderate and foolish, as well as pernicious practice it is, for a nurse to waken the child from its nourishing sleep, for fear it should suffer by hunger, and instantly pop the breast into its pretty mouth, or provoke it to feed, when it has no inclina- tion to either, and, for want of digestion, must have its nutriment turned to repletion, and bad humours ! Excuse me, dear Sir, these lesser particulars. Mr. Locke begins with them ; and surely they may be allowed in a young mamma, writing (how- ever it be to a gentleman of genius and learning) to a papa, on a subject, that in its lowest beginnings ought not to be unattended to by either. I will therefore pursue my excellent author without farther apology, since you have put his work iuto my hands. 3 i 3 790 PAMELA. Mrs. fl.'i s Kpmaiks on Mr. Locke's treat!** nr F'ii'-;.i:n. , The next thing then, which he prescribes, is plain diet, , This speaks for itself, for the haby can have no corrupt taste to gratify : all is pure, as out of the hand of nature : and what is not plain and natural, must vitiate and offend. Then, no wine, or strong drink. Equally just ; and for the same reasons. Little or no physic. Undoubtedly right. For the use of physic, without necessity, or by way of precaution, as some call it, begets the necessity of physic ; and the very word supposes distemper or disorder ; and where there is none, would a parent beget one ; or, by frequent use, render the salutary force of medicine ineffectual when it was wanted ? Next, he forbids too warm and too strait clothing. This is just as I wish it. How often has my heart ached, when I have seen poor babies rolled and swathed, ten or a dozen times round ; then blanket upon blanket, mantle upon that ; its little neck pinned down to one posture ; its head, more than it frequently needs, triple-crowned like a young pope, with covering upon covering ; its legs and arms, as if to prevent that kindly stretching, which we rather ought to promote, when it is in health, and which is only aiming at growth and enlargement, the former bundled up, the latter pinned down ; and how the poor thing lies on the nurse's lap, a miserable little pinioned captive, goggling and staring with its eyes, the only organ it has at liberty, as if supplicating for freedom to its fettered limbs '. Nor has it any comfort at all, till with a sigh or two, like a dying deer, it drops asleep; and happy then will it be till the officious nurse's care shall awaken it for its undesired food, as if resolved to try its consti- tution, and willing to see how many difficulties it could overcome. Then he advises, that the head and feet should be kept cold ; and the latter often used to cold water, and exposed to wet, in order to lay the foundation, as he says, of a healthy and hardy constitution. Now, Sir, what a pleasure is it to your Pamela, that her notions, and her practice too, fall in so exactly with this learned gentleman's advice that, excepting one article, which is, that your Billy has not yet been accustomed to be wet-shod, every other particular ha.3 been observed !' And don't you see what a charming, charming baby he is ? Nay, and so is your little Davers, for his age pretty soul ! Perhaps some, were they to see this, would not be so ready, as I know you will be, to excuse me ; and would be apt to say, " What nursery impertinences are these to trouble a man with !" But with all their wis- dom, they would be mistaken ; for if a child has not good health ("and are not these rules the moral foundation, as I may say, of that blessing?) its animal organs will play but poorly in a weak or crazy case. These, therefore, are necessary rules to be observed for the first two or three PAMELA. 791 . . . .'s Remarks on jr. Lock,* - '* treatise on Education. years- ior then the liule buds of their minds will begin to open, and their watchful mamma will be employed, like a skilful gardener, in assist- ing and encouraging the charming flower through its several hopeful stages to perfection, when it shall become one of the principal orna- ments of that delicate garden, your honoured family. Pardon me, Sir, if in the above paragraph 1 am too figurative. I begin to be afraid I ain out of my sphere, writing to your dear self, on these important SuLje. ( But be (hat as it may, 1 will here put an end to this my first letter (on the earliest part of n y subject) rejoicing in the opportunity you have given me of producing a fresh instance of that duty and affection, where- with 1 am, and shall ever be, my dearest Mr. B. your grateful happy P. B. LETTER LXXIX. I WILL now, my dearest, my best beloved correspondent of all, begin, since the tender age of my dear babies will not permit me to have an eye yet to their better part, to tell you what are the little matters to which I am not quite so well reconciled in Mr. Locke : and this 1 shall be better enabled to do, by my observations upon the temper and natural bent of my dear Miss Goodwin, as well as Ly those which my visits to the bigger children of my little school, and those at the cottages adjacent, have enabled me to make ; for human nature, Sir, you are not to be told, is human nature, whether in the high-born, or in the low. This excellent author having justly disallowed of slavish and corporal punishments in the education of those we would have to be wise, good, and ingenuous men, adds, " On the other side, to flatter children by rewards <>f things that are pleasant to them, is as carefully to be avoided. He that will give his son apples, or sugar-plums, or what else of this kind he is most delighted with to make him learn his book, does but authorize his love of pleasure, and cockers up that dangerous propensity, which he ought, by all means, to subdue and stifle in him. You can never hope to teach him to master it, whilst you compound for the check yCU give )i i^ inclination in one place, by the satisfaction you propose to it in another. To make a good, a wise, and a virtuous man, 'tis fit he should learn to cross his appetite, and deny his inclination to riches, finery, or pleasing his palate," &c. This, Sir, is well said ; but is it not a little too philosophical and ab- stracted, not only for the generality of children, but for the age he sup- poses them to be of, if one may guess by the apples and the sugar-plums proposed for the rewards of their well-doing ? Would not this require that memory or reflection in children, which, in another place, is called the concomitant of prudence and age, and not of childhood ? 3 r A 793 PAMELA. Mis. h.'s Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on education. It is undoubtedly very right to cheek an unreasonable appetite, and that at its first appearance. But if so small and so reasonable an induce- ment will prevail, surely, Sir, it might be complied with. A generous mind takes delight to win over others by good usage and mildness, rather than by severity; and it must be a great pain to such an one, to be always inculcating, on his children or pupils, the doctrine of self-denial, by methods quite grievous to his own nature. What I would then humbly propose, is, that the encouragements offered to youth, should, indeed, be innocent ones, as the gentleman enjoins, and not such as would lead to luxury either of food or apparel ; but I humbly think it necessary, that rewards, proper rewards, should be proposed as incentives to laudable actions : for is it not by this method that the whole world is influenced and governed ? Does not God himself, by rewards and punishments, make it our interest, as well as our duty to obey Him ? And can we propose ourselves, for the government of our children, a better example than that of the Creator ? This fine author seems to think he had been a little of the strictest, and liable to some exception. " I say not this," proceeds he, " that I would have children kept from the conveniences or pleasures of life, that are not injurious to their health or virtue. On the contrary, I would have their lives made as pleasant and as agreeable to them as may be, in a plentiful enjoyment of whatsoever might innocently delight them." And yet he immediately subjoins a very hard and difficult proviso to this indulgence. " Provided," says he, " it be with this caution, that they have those enjoyments only as the consequences of the state of esteem and accepta- tion they are in with their parents and governors." I doubt, my dear Mr. B. this is expecting such a distinction and discre- tion in children, as they seldom have in their tender years, and requiring capacities not commonly to be met with : so that it is not prescribing to the generality, as this excellent author intended. 'Tis, I humbly con- ceive, next to impossible that their tender minds should distinguish beyond facts : they covet this or that play-thing, and the parent, or governor, takes advantage of its desires, and annexes to the indulgence such or such a task or duty, as a condition ; and shews himself pleased with its compli- ance with it : so the child wins its play-thing, and receives the commen- dation so necessary to lead on young minds to laudable pursuits. But shall it not be suffered to enjoy the innocent reward of its compliance, unless it can give satisfaction, that its greatest delight is not in having the thing coveted, but in performing the task, or obeying the injunctions imposed upon it as a condition of its being obliged ? I doubt, Sir, this is a little too strict, and not to be expected from children. A servant, full grown, would not be able to shew, that, on condition he complied with PAMELA. 793 Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education. such and such terms (which, it is to be supposed by the offer, he would not have complied with, b,ut for that inducement) he should have such and such a reward ; I say, he would hardly be able to shew, that he pre- ferred the pleasure of performing the requisite conditions to the stipu- lated reward. Nor is it necessary he should : for he is not the less a good servant, or a virtuous man, if he own the conditions painful, and the reward necessary to his low state in the world, and that otherwise he would not undergo any service at all. Why then should this be exacted from a child ? Let, therefore, innocent rewards be proposed, and let us be contented to lead on the ductile minds of children to a love of their duty, by ob- liging them with such : we may tell them what we expect in this case ; but we ought not, I humbly conceive, to be too rigorous in exacting it ; for, after all, the inducement will naturally be the uppermost consideration with the child : nor, as I hinted, had it been offered to it, if the parent himself had not thought so. And, therefore, we can only let the child know his duty in this respect, and that he ought to give a preference to that ; and then rest ourselves contented, although we should discern, that the reward is the chief incentive of it. For this, from whatever motive inculcated, may beget a habit in the child of doing it : and then, as it improves in years, one may hope, that reason will take place, and enable him, from the most solid and durable motives, to give a preference to the duty. Upon the whole, then, can we insist upon it, that the child should so nicely distinguish away its little innate passions, as if we expected it to be born a philosopher ? Self-denial is, indeed, a most excellent doctrine to be inculcated into children, and it must be done early : but we must not be too severe in our exacting it ; for a duty too rigidly insisted upon, will make it odious. This Mr. Locke, too, observes in another place, on the head of too great severity ; which he illustrates l>y a familiar comparison : " Offensive circumstances,'' says he, " ordinarily infect innocent things which th Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education. thing saucy in' me, but the bold approaches of my gratitude, which shall always testify for me, how much I am, your obliged and dutiful servunt, P. B. LETTER LXXX. MY DEAREST MR. B. I WILL continue my subject, although I have not had an opportunity to know whether you approve of my notions or not, by reason of the excursions you have been pleased to allow ine to make in your beloved company to the sea-ports of this kingdom, and to the more noted inland towns of Essex, Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, and Dorsetshire, which have given me infinite delight and pleasure, and enlarged my notions of the wealth and power of the kingdom, in which God's goodness has given you *o considerable a stake. My next topic will be upon a home education, which Mr. Locke pre- fers, for several weighty reasons, to a school one, provided such a tutor can be procured, as he makes next to an impossibility to procure. The gen- tleman has set forth the inconveniences of both, and was himself so discouraged, on a review of them, that he was ready, as he says, to throw up his pen. My chief cares, dear Sir, on this head, are three : 1st, The difficulty which, as I said, Mr. Locke makes almost insuperable, to find a qualified tutor. 2ndly, The necessity there is, according to Mr. Locke, of keeping the youth out of the company of the meaner servants, who may set him bad examples. And, 3rdly, those still greater difficulties which will arise from the example of his parents, if they are not very discreet and circumspect. As to the qualifications of the tutor, Mr. Locke supposes, that he is to be so learned, so discreet, so wise, in short, so perfect a man, that I doubt, and so does Mr. Locke, such an one can hardly be met with for this humble and slavish employment. I presume, Sir, to call it so, because of the too little regard that is generally paid to these useful men in the families of the great, where they are frequently put upon a foot with the uppermost servants, and the rather, if they happen to be men of modesty. " I would," snys he, " from children's first beginning to talk, have some discreet, sober, nay, uise person about them, whose care it should be to fashion them right, and to keep them from all ill , especially the infection of had company. I think this province requires gre.it sobriety, temperance, tenderness, diligence, and discretion; qualities hardly to be found united in persons that are to be had for ordinary salaries, nor easily to be found any where." If this, Sir, be the case, does not this excellent author recommend a cly.me that is rendered in a manner impracticable from this difficulty ? 796 PA! >1ELA. i . . i Mrs. H.'g Remarks on :.\r. Locke's Treatise on Education. As to these qualities being more rarely to be met with in persons that are to be had {or ordinary salaries, I cannot help being of opinion (although, with Mr. Locke, I think no expense should be spared, if that would do) that there is as good a chance for finding a proper person among the needy scholars (if not of a low and sordid turn of mind) as among the more affluent: because the narrow circumstances of the former (which probably became a spur to his own improvement) will, it is likely, at first setting out in the world, make him be glad to embrace such an offer in a family which has interest to prefer him, and will quicken his diligence to make bira deserve preferment ; and if such an one wanted any of that requisite politeness, which some would naturally expect from scholars of better fortune, might not that be supplied to the youth by the con- versation of parents, relations, and visitors, in conjunction with those other helps which young men of family and large expectations constantly have, and which few learned tutors can give him ? I say not this to countenance the wretched niggardliness (which this gentleman justly censures) of these who grudge a handsome eonsideratiou to so necessary and painful a labour as that of a tutor, which, where a deserving man can be met with, cannot be too genteelly rewarded, nor himself too respectfully treated. I only beg to deliver my opinion, that a low condition is as likely as any other, with a mind not ungenerous, to produce a man who has these good qualities, as well for the reasons I have hinted at, as for others which might be mentioned. But Mr. Locke thus proceeds : " To form a young gentleman as he should be, 'tis fit his governor should be well bred, understand the ways of carriage, and measures of civility, in all the variety of persons, times, and places, and keep his pupil, as far as his age requires, constantly to the observation of them. This is an art not to be learnt or taught by books. Nothing can give it but good company and observation joined together." And in another place says, " Besides being well-bred, the tutor should know the world well ; the ways, the humours, the follies, the cheats, the faults of the age he has fallen into, and particularly of the country he lives in : these he should be able to shew to his pupil, as he finds him capable: teach him skill in men and their manner; pull off the mask which their several callings and pretences cover them with ; and make his pupil discern what lies at the bottom, under such appearances, that he may not, as unexperienced young men are apt to do, if they are unwarned, take one thing for another, judge by the uutside, and give himself up to show, and the insinuations of a fair carnage, or an obliging application : teach him to guess at, and beware of, the designs of men he hath to do with, neither with too much suspicion, nor too much confidence." This, dear Sir, is excellently said : 'tis noble theory ; and if the tutor PAMELA. 797 Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education. be a man void of resentment and caprice, and will not be governed by partial considerations, in his own judgment of persons and things, all will be well : but if otherwise, may he not take advantage of the confidence placed in him, to the injury of some worthy person, and by degree monopolize the young gentleman to himself, and govern his passions as absolutely, as I have heard some first ministers have done those of their prince, equally to his own personal disreputation, and to the disadvantage of his people? But all this, and much more, according to Mr. Locke, is. the duty of a tutor: and on the finding out such an one, depends his scheme of a home education. No wonder, then, that he himself says, " When I consider the scruples and cautions I here lay in your way, methinks it looks as if I advised you to something which I would have offered at, but in effect not done," &c. Permit me, dear Sir, in this piace to express* my fear that it is hardly possible for any one, with talents inferior to those of Mr. Locke himself, to come up to the rules he has laid down upon this subject ; and 'tis to be questioned, whether even he, with all that vast stock of natural reason and solid sense, for which, as you tell me, Sir, he was so famous, had attained to these perfections, at his first setting out into life. Now, therefore, dear Sir, you can't imagine how these difficulties per- plex me, as to my knowing how to judge which is best, a home or a school education. For hear what this excellent author justly observes on the latter, among other things, no less to the purpose : " I am sure, he who is able to be at the charge of a tutor at home, may there give his son a more genteel carriage, more manly thoughts, and a sense of what is worthy and becoming, with a great proficiency in learning, into the bar- gain, and ripen him up sooner into a man, than any school can do. Not that I blame the schoolmaster in this," says he, " or think it to be laid to his charge. The difference is great between two or three pupils in the same house, and three or four score boys lodged up and down : for, let the master's industry and skill be never so great, it is impossible he should have fifty or a hundred scholars under his eye any longer than they are in the school together." But then, Sir, if there be such a difficulty, as Mr. Locke sr.ys, to meet with a p-oper tutor for the home education, which he thus prefers, what a perplexing thing is this ? But still, accor- ding to this gentleman, another difficulty attends a home education; and that is, what I hinted at before, in my second article, the necessity of keeping the youth out of the company of the meaner servants, who may set him bad examples. For thus he says, " Here is another great incon- venience, which children receive from the ill examples which they meet with from the meaner servants. They are wholly, if possible, to be kept from such conversation for the contagion of these ill precedents, b< th 793 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education. in civility and virtue, horribly infects children, as often as they come within the reach of it. They frequently learn from unbred or debauched servants such language, nntowardly tricks and vices, as otherwise they would be ignorant of all their lives. 'Tis a hard matter wholly to prevent this mischief," continues he ; "you will have very good luck, if you never have a clownish or vicious servant, and if from them your children never get any infection." Then, Sir, my third point (which I mentioned in the beginning of this letter) makes a still stronger objection, as it may happen, against a home education : to wit, the example of the parents themselves, if they be not very circumspect and discreet. All these difficulties being put together, let me, dear Sir, humbly pro- pose it, as a matter for your consideration and determination, whether there be not a middle way to be found out in a school education, that may remedy some of these inconveniences ? For suppose y\>u cannot get a^utor so qualified as Mr. Locke thinks he ought to be, for your Billy as he grows up. Suppose there is danger from your meaner servants ; or we liis parents should not be able to lay ourselves under the requisite restraints, in order to form his mind by our own examples, which I hope, by God's grace, however, will not be the case Cannot some master be found, who shall be so well rewarded for his care of a. Jew young gentle- men, as to make it worth his while to be contented with those Jew ? suppose from five to eight at most ; whose morals and breeding he may attend to, as well as to their learning? The farther this master lives from the young gentleman's friends, the better it may be. We will hope, that he is a man of a mild disposition, but strict in his discipline, and who shall make it a rule not to give correction for small faults, or till every other method has been tried ; who carries such a just dignity in his manner, without the appearance of tyrrany, that his looks may be of greater force than the blows of others ; and who will rather endeavour to shame, than terrify, a youth out of his faults. Then, suppose this gentleman was to allot a particular portion of lime for the more learned studies ; and before the youth was tired with them, suppose another portion was allotted for the writing and arithmetic; and then, to relieve his mind from both, suppose the dancing-master should take his part ; and innocent exercises of mere diversion, to fill up the rest, at his own choice, in which, diverted by such a rotation of employments (all thus rendered delightful by their successive variety) he would hardly wish to pass much time. For the dancing of itself, with the dancing-master's instructions, if a well-bred man, will answer both parts, -that "of breeding and that of exercise : and thus diffe- rent studies at once be mastered. Moreover, the emulation which will be inspired, where there are several PAMELA. 7W Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr. Locki's Treatise on Education. youn^' gentieuitii, will be of inconceivable use both to tutor and pupil, in lessening the trouble of the one, and advancing the learning of the other, which cannot be expected where there is but a single youth to be taken care of. Such a master vvill know it to be bis interest, as well as duty, to have a watchful eye over the conduct uid behaviour of his servants. His assistance, in the different branches of science and education, will be persons of approved prudence, for whom he will think himself answerable, since his own reputation, as well as livelihood, will' depend upon their behaviour. The youth? will have young gentlemen for their companions, all under' the influence of the same precepts and directions ; and if some chosen period were fixed, as a reward for some excellence, where, at a little desk, raised a step or two above the other seats, the excelling youth should be set to read, under the master's direction, a little portion from the best translations of the Greek and Roman historians, and even from tlje Lest English authors ; this might, in a very engaging manner, initiate them into the knowledge of the history of past times, and of their own country, and give them a curiosity to pass some of their vacant hours in the same laudable pursuit : for, dear Sir, I must still insist, that rewards and innocent gratifications, as also little honours and distinctions, must needs be very attractive tj the minds of youth. For, is not the pretty ride, and dairy-house breakfasting, by which Miss Goodwin's governess distinguishes the little ladies who excel in their allotted tasks, a fine encouragement to their ductile minds ? Yes, it is, to be sure. And I have 'often thought of it with pleasure, and partaken of the delight with which I have supposed their pretty hearts must be filled on that occasion. And why may i*ot such little triumphs be, in in proportion, as incentive to children, to make them try to master laud- able tasks, as t he Roman triumphs, of different kinds, and their mural and civic crowns, all which I have heard you speak of, were to their heroes and warriors of old ? For Mr. Dryden well observes, that " Men are but children of a larger growth : Our appetites are apt to change as theirs, And full as craving too, and full as vain." I'crmit me, de.tr Sir, to transcribe four or five lines more, for the beauty of the thought : " And yet the soul, Unit up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing But like a mole in earth, busy and blind, \V< s k. all her folly up, and casts it outward To the world's open view " 800 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Remarks on Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education. Improving the thought ; methinks I can see the dear little Miss, who has, in some eminent task, borne away the palm, make her public entry, as I may call it, after her dairy breakfast, and pretty airing, into the governess's court-yard, through a row of school-fellows drawn out on each side to admire her ; her governess and assistants receiving her at the porch, their little capitol, and lifting her out with applauses and encomiums, with a Thus shall it be dune to the Miss whom her governess delighleth to honour ! I see not why the dear Miss in this case, as she moves through her admiring school-fellows, may not have her little heart beat with as much delight, be as gloriously elated, proportionably, as that of the greatest hero in his triumphal car, who has returned from exploits, perhaps, much less laudable. But how I ramble ! Yet surely, Sir, you don't expect method or con- nection from your girl. The education of our sex will not permit that, where it is best. We are forced to struggle for knowledge,, like the poor feeble infant in the month, who is pinned and fettered down upon the nurse's lap; and who, if its little arms happen, by chance, to escape its nurse^s observation, and offer but to expand themselves, are immediately taken into custody, and pinioned down to their passive behaviour. . So, when a poor girl, in spite of her narrow education, breaks out into notice, her genius is immediately tamed by trifling employments, lest, perhaps, she should become the envy of one sex, and the equal of the other. But you, Sir, act more nobly with your Pamela ; for you throw in her way all opportunities of improvement ; and she has only to regFet, that she can- not make a better use of them, and, of consecpaence, render herself more worthy of your generous indulgence. I know not how, Sir, to recover my thread ; and so must break off with that delight which I always take when I come near the bottom of my let- ters to your dear self; because then I can boast of the honour which 1 have iu being your ever dutiful P. B. LETTER LXXXI. WELL, but, my dear Mr. B. you will perhaps think, from my last ram- bling letter, that 1 am most inclined to a school education for your Billy, some years hence, if it should please God to spare him to us. Vet I can- not say that I am ; I only lay several things together in my usual indigested way, to take your opinion upon, which, as it ought, will always be decisive with me. And indeed I am so thoroughly convinced by Mr. Locke's reasons, where the behaviour of servants can be so well answered for., as that of yours can be, and where the example of the parents will be, as I hope, rather edifying than otherwise, that without being swayed, as I think, by maternal fondness, in this case, I must needs give a preference PAMELA. 801 Choice of a private Tutor. to the home education ; and the little scheme 1 presumed to form in my last, was only on a supposition, that those necessary points could not be so well secured. In my observations on-this head, 1 shall take the liberty ^ in one or two particulars, a little to differ from an author that I adnrtre exceedingly ; and that is the present design of my writing these letters ; for I shall hereafter, if God spare my life, in my little book (when you have kindly decided upon the points in which I presume to differ) shew you, Sir, my great reverence and esteem for him ; and can then let you know all my sentiments on this important sulyect, and that more undoubtingly, as Irshall be more improved by years and your conversation ; especially, Sir, if I have the honour and happiness of a foreign tour with you, of which you give me hope ; so much are you pleased with the delight I take in these improving excursions, which you have now favoured me with, at different times, through more than half the kingdom. Well then, Sir, 1 will proceed to consider a little more particularly the subject of a home education, with an eye to those difficulties, of which Mr. Locke takes notice, as I mentioned in my last. As to the first, that of finding a qualified tutor ; we must not expect so much perfection, I doubt, as he lays down as necessary. What, therefore, I humbly con- ceive is best to be done, will be to avoid choosing a man of bigotted and narrow principles ; who yet shall not be tainted with sceptical or heterodox notions, nor a mere scholar or pedant ; who has travelled, and yet pre- served his moral character untainted ; and whose behaviour and carriage is easy, unaffected, unformal, and genteel, as well acquiredly as naturally so, if possible ; who shall not lie dogmatical, positive, overbearing, on one hand; nor too yielding, suppliant, fawning, on the other ; who shall study the child's natural bent, in order to direct his studies to the point he is most likely to excel in ; and to preserve the respect due to his own cha- racter from every one, he must nut be a busy body in the family, a whis- perer, a tale-bearer, but of a benevolent turn of mind, ready to compo-i differences; who shall avoid, of all things, that foppishness of dress and appearance, which distinguishes the petit-maitres, and French ushers (that J have seen at some boarding schools) for coxcombs ratlurthan guides of education : f>r, is 1 have beard yon, my best tutor, often observe, the peculiarities of habit, where .t person aims at something fantastic, or out ot character, are an undoubted sign of a wrong head; for such an one is so kind as alw.iys to bang out on his sign what sort ot furniture be lias in hi:, shop, to save you the trouble of asking questions about him ; so tli.it one may as easily know by bis outward appearance what he: is, as one can know a widow by her weeds* b 2G 3 o 302 . PAMELA. Choice of 3 priviti I n( I Such a person as I have thus negatively deerined, may be found without very much difficulty, perhaps, because some of these requisites are per- sonal, and others are such as are obvious at first si^ht, to a common penetration ; or, where not so, may be found out, by inquiry into his general character and behaviour : and to the care of such an one, dear Sir, let me suppose your Billy is committed : and so we acquit ourselves of the first difficulty, as well as we can, that of the tutor ; who, to become more perfect, may form himself, as to what he wants, by Mr. Locke's excellent rules on that head. But before I quit this subject, I beg to remind you of your opinion upon it, in a conversation with Sir George Stuart, and his nephew, in London j in which you seemed to prefer a Scottish gentleman for a tutor to those of your own nation, and still more than to those of France. Don't you remember it, dear Sir? And how much those gentlemen were pleased with your facetious freedom with their country, and said, you made them amends for that, in your preference to their learned and travelled youth ? If you have forgot it, I will here transcribe it from my records, as I call my book of memorandums ; for every time I am pleased with a conver- sation, and have leisure, before it quits my memory, I enter it down in as near the very words as I can ; and now you have made me your corres- pondent, I shall sometimes, perhaps, give you back some valuables front your own treasure. Miss Damford, and Mr. Turner, and Mr. Fanshaw, were present, I well remember. These wore your words : " Since the union of the two kingdoms, we have many persons of con- dition, who have taken their tutors for their sons from Scotland ; which practice, to speak impartially, has been attended with some advantageous circumstances, that should not be overlooked. Forj Sir George, it must be confessed that, notwithstanding your narrow and stiff manner of edu- cation in Scotland, a spirit of manly learning, a kind of poetic liberty, as I may call it, has begun to exert itself In that part of the island. The blustering north forgive me, gentlemen seems to have hardened the foreheads of her hungry sons ; and the keenness with which they set out for preferment in the kindlier south, has taught them to know a good deal of the world betimes. Through the easy terms on which learning is generally attained there, as it is earlier inculcated, so it may, probably, take deeper root : and since 'tis hardly possible forgive me, dear Sirs they can go to a worse countr, a this side Greenland, than some of the northern parts of Scotland ; so their education, with a view to travel, and to better themselves by settlements in other countries, may, perhaps, be jo many reasons to take greater pains to qualify themselves for this em- ployment, and may make them succeed better in it ; especially when they PAMELA. 803 Choice of a private Tutor. have been able to shake off the fetters which are rivetted upon them under the narrow influence of a too tyrannical kirk discipline, which you, Sir George, have just now so freely censured. " To these considerations, when we add the necessity, which these remote tutors lie under, of behaving well ; first, because they seldom wish to return to their own country; and next, because that 'cannot prefer them, if it would ; and thirdly, because it would not, if it could, if the gentleman be of an enlarged genius, and generous way of thinking; I say, when we add to the premises these considerations, they all make a kind of security for their good behaviour : while those of our own coun- try have often friends or acquaintance on whose favour they are apt to depend, and for that reason give less attention to the duties requisite for this important office. " Besides, as thtir kind friend jEolus, who is accustomed to spread and strengthen the bold muscles of the strong featured Scot, has generally blown away that inauspicious bashfulness, which hangs a much longer time, commonly, on the faces of the southern students ; such an one (if he fall not too egregiously into the contrary extreme, so as to become insuf- ferable) may still be the more eligible person for a tutor, as he may teach a young gentleman, betimes, that necessary presence of mind, which those who are confined to a private education sometimes want. " But, after all, if a gentleman of this nation be chosen for this employment, it may be necessary that he should be one who has had as genieel and free an education himself as his country will afford ; aud the native roughness of his climate filed off by travel and conversation : who has made, at least, the tour of France and Italy, and has n taste for the politeness of the former nation : but from the boisterousness of a North Briton, and the fantastic politeness of a Frenchman, if happily blended, such a mixture may result, as will furnish out a more complete tutor, than either of the two nations, singly, may be able to produce. But it ought to be remembered that this person must have conquered his native brogue, as I may call it, and be a master of the English pronunciation ; otherwise his conversation will be disagreeable to an English ear. " And permit me to add, that, as an acquaintance with the Muses contributes not a little to soften the manners, and give a graceful anil delicate turn to the imagination, and a kind of polish to severer studies, it would not be amiss that he should have a taste of poetry, although perhaps it. were, not to be wished be had such strong inclinations that way, as to make that lively and delectable amusement his predominant passion : for we see very few poets, whose warm imaginations do not run away with their judgments. And yet, in order to learn the dead lan- guages in their purity, it will be necessary U> inculcate both the love and 904 PAMELA. The Force of Example with Servaut- the study of the ancient poets, which cannot fail of giving the youth a taste for poetry in general." Permit me, dear Sir, to ask you, whether you advanced this for argu- ment sake, as sometimes you love to amuse and entertain your friends in an uncommon way ? For I should imagine, that our two universities, which you have shewn me, and for which I have ever since had a greater reverence than I had before, are capable of furnishing as good tutors as any nation in the world : for here the young gentlemen seem to me to live both in the world and in the university ; and we saw several gentlemen who had not only fine parts, but polite behaviour, and deep learning, as you assured me ; some of whom you entertained, and were entertained by, in so elegant a manner, that no travelled gentleman, if 1 may be allowed to judge, could excel them ! And besides, my dear Mr. B. I know, who is reckoned one of the politest and best-bred gentleman in England by every body, and learned as well as polite, and yet had his education in one of those celebrated seats of learning. I wish your Billy may never fall short of the gentleman 1 mean, in all these acquirements ; and he will be a very happycreature, I am sure. But how I wander again from my subject. I have no other way to re- cover myself, when I thus ramble, but by returning to that one delightful point of reflection, that I have the honour to be, dearest Sir, your ever dutiful and obliged P. B. LETTER LXXXII. DEAREST Sift, I NOW resume my subject. I had gone through the article of the tutor, as well as I could ; and will now observe upon what Mr. Locke says, That children are wholly, if possible, to be kept from the conversation of the meaner servants : whom he supposes to be, as too frequently they are, unbred and debauched, to use his own words. Now, Sir, I think it is very difficult to keep children from the conver- sation of servants at all times. The care of personal attendance, especially in the child's early age, must fall upon servants of one denomination or other, who, little or much, must be conversant with the inferior ser- vants, and so be liable to be tainted by their conversation ; and it will be difficult in this case to prevent the taint being communicated to the child. Wherefore it will be a surer, as well as a more laudable method, to insist upon the regular behaviour of the whole family, than to expect the child, and its immediate attendant or tutor, should be the only good ones in it. Nor is this so difficult to effect as may be imagined. Your family affords an eminent instance of it : the good have been confirmed, then remiss have been reformed, the passionate have been tamed j and there PAMELA. 805 > The Fore, of Example with Servants. is not a family in the kingdom, I will venture to say, tu the honour of every individual of it, more uniform, more regular, and freer from evil, and more regardful of what they say .and do, than yours. And you will allow, that though always honest, yet they were not always sri laudable, so exemplarily virtuous, as of late : which I mention only to shew the practicablenessof a reformation, even where bad habits have taken place For your Pamela, Sir, arrogates nojt to herself the honour of this change : tis owing to the Divine grace shining upon hearts naturally good ; for else an example so easy, so plain, so simple, from so young a mistress, who moreover had been exalted from their own station, could not have been attended with such happy effects. You see, dear Sir, what a master and mistress's example could do, with a poor soul so far gone as Mrs. Jewkes, And I dare be confident, that if, on the hiring of a new servant, sobriety of manners and a virtuous con- ver>ation were insisted upon, and a general inolfensiveness in words as well as actions was required from them, as indispensable conditions of their service : and that a breach of that kind would be no more passed over, than a wilful fraud, or act of dishonesty ; and if, added to these requisites, their principals take care to support these injunctions by their own example ; I say, then, I dare be confident, that if such a service did not find them good, it would make them so. And why should we not think this a very practicable scheme, considering the servants we take are at years of discretion, and have the strong ties of interest superaddetl to the obligations we require of them ? and which, they must needs know (let 'em have what had habits tbey will) are right for themselves to discharge, as well as for us to exact. We all know of how much force the example of superiors is to inferiors. It is too justly said, that the courts of princes abound with the most pro- fligate of men, insomuch that a man cannot well have a more significantly bad title, than that of Courtier: yet even among these, one shall see the force of example, as 1 have heard von, Sir, frequently observe : for, let but the land be blest with a pious and religious prince, who makes it a rule with him to countenance and promote men of virtue and probity ; and to put the case still stronger, let such an one even succeed to the most libertine reign, wherein the manner', of the people arc wholly de- praved: yet a wonderful change will be immediately effected. The flagi- tious livers will be chased away, or reformed ; or at least will think it their duty, or their interest, winch is a stronger tie with such, to appear reformed ; and not a man will seek for the favour or countenance of his prince, but by laudable pretences, or by worthy actions. In the reign of King Richard 111. as 1 have read, defvrmity of body was 3 r. J 806 PAMELA. The Force of Example with Servants. the fashion, and the nobility and gentry of the court thought it an indis- " pensable requisite of a graceful form to pad for themselves a round shoulder, because the king was croo"ked. And can we think human nature so absurdly wicked, that it would not much rather have tried to imitate a personal perfection, than a deformity so shocking in its appear- ance, in people who were naturally straight ? *Tis melancholy to reflect, that of all professions of men, the mariners, who most behold the wonders of Almighty power displayed in the great deep (a sight that has struck me with awe and reverence only from a coast prospect) and who every moment, while at sea, have but one frail plank betwixt themselves and inevitable destruction, are yet, generally speaking, said to be the most abandoned invokers and blasphemers of the name of that God, whose mercies they every moment unthankfully, although so visibly, experience. Yet, as I once heard at your table, Sir, on a par- ticular occasion, we have now a commander in the British navy, who, to his honour, has shewn the force of an excellent example supporting the best precepts : for, on board of his> ship, not an oath or curse was to be heard ; while vollies of both (issued from impious mouths in the same squadron, out of his knowledge) seemed to fill the sails of the other ships with guilty breath, calling aloud for that perdition to overtake them, which perhaps his worthy injunctions and example, in his own, might be of Weight to suspend. If such then, dear Sir, be the force of a good example, what have parents to do, who would bring up a child at home under their own eye, according to .Mr. Locke's advice, but, first, to have a strict regard to their own con- duct ? This will not want its due influence on the servants ; especially if a proper enquiry be first made into their characters, and a watchful eye had over them, to keep them up to those characters afterwards. And when they know they must forfeit the favour of a worthy master, and their places too (which may be thought to be the best of places, because an uniform character must make all around it easy and happy) they will readily observe such rules and directions, as shall be prescribed to them Rules and directions, which their own consciences will tell them are right to be prescribed ; and even right for them to follow, were they not insisted upon by their superiors : and this conviction must go a great way towards their thorough reformation : for a person wholly convinced, is half reformed. And thus the hazard a child will run of being corrupted by conversing with the servants, will be removed, and all Mr. Locke's other rules be better enforced. I have the boldness, Sir, to make another objection ; and that is, to fc he distance which Mr. Locke prescribes to be kept between children and PAMELA. 807 i lit behavicui of Children to Servants. servants . for may not this be a means to fill the minds of the former with a contempt of those below them, and an arrogance that is not war- ranted by any rank or condition, to their inferiors of the same species ? I have transcribed what Mr. Locke has enjoined in relation to this dis- tance, where he says, that the children are by all means to be kept wliolly from the conversation of the meaner servants. But how much better advice does the same author give for the behaviour of children to servants in the foil >wing words, which, I humbly think, are not so entirely consistent with the former, as might be expected from so admirable an author. " Another way," says he, " to instil sentiments of humanity, and to keep them lively in young folks, will be, to accustom them to civility in their language and deportment towards their inferiors, and the meaner sort of people, particularly servants. It is not unusual to observe the children in gentlemeu's families treat the servants of the house with domineering words, names of contempt, and an imperious carriage, as if they were of another race, or species beneath them. Whether ill example, the advantages of fortune, or their natural vanity, inspire this haughtiness, it should be prevented or weeded out ; and a gentle, courteous, affable carriage towards the lower ranks of men, placed in the room of it. No part of their superiority will be hereby lost, but the distinction increased, and their authority strengthened, when love in inferiors is joined to out- ward respect, and the esteem of the person has a share in their sub- mission : and domestics will pay a more ready and cheerful service, when they find themselves not spurned, because fortune has laid them below the level of others at their master's feet." These, dear Sir, are certainly the sentiments of a generous and enlarged spirit : but I hop<- 1 may observe, that the great distance Mr. Locke before enjoins to be kept between children and servants, is not very consistent with the above-cited paragraph : for if we would prevent this undue con- tempt of inferiors in the temper of children, the best way, as I humbly presume to think, is not to make it so unpardonable a fault for them, especially in their early years, to be in their company. For can one make the children shun the servants without rendering them odious or con- temptible to them, and representing them to the child in such disad- vantageous lights, as must needs make the servants vile in their eyes, and themselves lofty and exalted in their own ? and thereby cause them to treat them with " domineering words, and an imperious carriage, as if they were of another race or species beneath them, and so," as Mr. Locke says, " nurse up their natural pride into an habitual contempt of those beneath them ; and then," as he adds, " where will that probably end, but in oppression and cruelty ?" But this matter, dear Sir, I presume to think, will all be happily accommodated and reconciled, when the er 3 g4 808 PAMELA. The Fehavioil of Children to SersantB. ants* good behaviour is v secured by the example and injunction's of the principals. Upon the whole, then, of what Mr. Locke has enjoined, and what I have taken the liberty to suggest on this head, it shall be my endeavour, in that early part of your dear Billy's education, which yen will intrust to me, to inculcate betimes in his mind the principles of universal benevolence and kindness to others, especially to inferiors. Nor shall I fear, that the little dear will be wanting to himself in as- suming, as he grows up, an air of superiority and distance of behaviour equal to his condition, or that he will descend too low for his sta'ion. For, Sir, there is a pride and self-love natural to human minds, that will seldom be kept so low, as to make them humbler than they ought to be. I have observed, before now, instances of this, in Some of the families we visit, between the young masters or misses, and those children of lower degree, who have been brought to play with them or divert them. On the masters' and misses' side I have always seen, they lead the play and pre- scribe the laws of it, be the diversion what it will ; while, on the other hand, their lower rank play-fellows have generally given into their little humours, though ever so contrary to their own ; and the difference of dress and appearance, and the notion they have of the more eminent- condition of their play-fellows' parents, have begot in them a kind of awe and respect, that perhaps more than sufficiently secures the superiority of the one, and the subordination of the other. The advantage of this universal benevolence to a young gentleman, as he grows up, will be, as I humbly conceive, so to diffuse itself over his mind, as to influence all his actions, and give a grace to every thing he does or says, and make him admired and respected from the best and most durable motives ; and will be of greater advantage to him for his attaining a handsome address and behaviour (for it will make him conscious that he merits the distinction he will meet with, and encourage him still more to merit it) than the best rules that can be given him for that purpose. I will therefore teach the 'little dear courteousness and affability, from the properest motives I am able to think of; and will instruct him in only one piece of pride, that of being above doing a mean or low action. I will caution him not to behave in a lordly or insolent manner, even to the lowest servants. I will tell him that that superiority is the most commendable, and will be the best maintained, which is owing to humanity and kindness, and grounded on the perfections of the mind, rather than on the accidental advantage of fortune and condition : that if his conduct be such as it ought to be, there will be no occasion to tell a servant, that he will be observed and respected . that humility, as 1 once told my Miss Goodwin, is a charming grace, and most conspicuously charming in PAMELA. 809 The Behaviour ol Children to Servants. persons of distinction ; for that the poor, who are bumbled, by their con- dition, cannot glory in it, as the rich may ; and that it makes the lower raiiks of people love and admire the high-born, who can so condescend : whereas pride, in such, is meanness and insult, as it owes its boast and its being to accidental advantages ; which, at the same time-> are seldom of his procuring, who can be so mean as to be proud : that even I would sooner forget pride in a low degree than in a high ; for it may be a security in the first against doing a hase thing: but in the rich, it is a base thing itself, and an impolitic one too ; for the more distinction a proud mind grasys at, the less it will have ; and every poor despised person can whisper such an one in the ear, when surrounded with, 'and adorned by all his glittering splendors, that he was born, and must die, in the same man- ner with those whom he despises. Thus will the doctrine of benevolence and affability, implanted early in the mind of a young gentleman, and duly cultivated as he grows up, inspire him with the requisite conduct to command respect from proper motives ; and while it will make the servants observe a decorum towards him, it will oblige them to have a guard upon their words and actions in presence of one, whose manner of education and training up would be so great a reproach to them, if they were grossly faulty ; so thus, I conceive, a mu- tual benefit will flow to the mariners of each ; and his good behaviour will render him, in some measure, an instructive monitor to the whole family. But permit me, Sir, to enlarge on the hint I have already given, in, relation to the example of parents, in case a preference lie given to the home education. For if this point cannot be secured, I should always imagine it were best to put the child to such a school as I have mentioned. But yet the subject might be spared hy me in this case, as I write with a view only to your family ; though you will remember, that while I follow Mr. Lockf, whose work is public, I must be considered as directing myself to the generalrfy of the world : for, Sir, I have the pleasure to say, that your conduct in your family i* unexceptionable; and the pride to think that mine is no disgrace to it. No one hears a word from your mouth unbecoming the character of a polite gentleman ; and I sh ill always he very regardful of what tails from mine. Your temper, Sir, is equal and kind to all your servants, and they love you, as well as awfully respect you : and well dots your bountiful and considerate mind deserve it of them all : and they, freeing I am watchful over my own conduct, so a* not to Ill-have unworthy of your kind example, regard me as much as I could wUh they should 5 for well do they know, that their beloved master will have it so, and great ly honours and esteems me himself. Your table- talk is such as persons of the strictest principles may hear, and join in: your guests, and your friends are, generally speaking, persons of the gen- 810 PAMELA. DiSetenoe of the Examples and Precepts of Parents. teelest life, arid of the best manners. So that Mr. Locke would have advised you, of all gentlemen, had he been living, and known you, to give your children a home education, and assign these, and still stronger reasons for it. - But were we to speak to the generality of parents, I fear this would be an almost insuperable objection to a home education. For (I am sorry to say it) when one turns one's eyes to the bad precedents given by the heads of some families, it is hardly to be wondered at, that there is so little virtue and religion among men. For can those parents be surprised at the ungraciousness of their children, who hardly exer shew them, that their own actions are governed by reasonable or moral motives ? Can the gluttonous father expect a self-denying son ? With how ill a grace must a man, who will often be disguised in liquor, preach sobriety ? a passionate man, patience ? an irreligious man, piety ? How will a parent, whose hands are seldom without cards, or dice in them, be observed in lessons against the pernicious vice of gaming ? Can the profuse father, who is squandering away the fortunes of his children, expect to be regarded in a lesson of frugality ? 'Tis impossible he should, except it were that the youth seeing how pernicious his father's example is, should have the grace to make a proper use of it, and look upon it as a sea-mark, as it were, to enable him to shun the dangerous rocks, on which he sees his father splitting. And even in this best case, let it be considered, how much shame and disgrace his thoughtless parent ought to take to himself, who can admonish his child by nothing but the odiousness of his own vice; and how little it is owing to him, that his guilt is not doubled, by his son's treading in his steps ! Let such an unhappy parent duly weigh this, and think how likely he is to be, by his bad example, the cause of his child's perdition, as well as his own, and stand unshocked and unamended, if he can ! It is then of no avail to wish for discreet servants, if the conduct of the parents is faulty. If the fountain head be polluted, how shall the under currents run clear ? That master and mistress, who would exact from their servants a behaviour which they themselves don't practise, will be but ill observed. And that child, who discovers great excesses and errors in his parents, will be found to be less profited by their good pre- cepts than prejudiced by bad examples. Excessive fondness this hour ; violent passions and perhaps execrations, the next; unguarded jests, and admiration of fashionable vanities, rash censures, are perhaps the best, that the child sees in, or hears from those, who are most concerned to inculcate good precepts into his mind. And where it is so, a home edu- cation must not surely be chosen. Having thus, as well as my slender abilities will permit, presumed ta PAMELA. 811 Emulation in Children. deliver my opinion upon three great points, namely, the qualifications of a tutor ; the necessity of having an eye to the morals of servants ; and the example of parents (all which, being taken care of, will give- a preference, as I imagine, to a home education ;) permit me, dear Sir, to speak a little further to a point, that F have already touched upon. It is that of emulation; which 1 humbly conceive to be of great efficacy, to lead children on in their duties and studies. And how, dear Sir, shall this advantage be procured for a young master, who has no school-fellows and who has no example to follow but that of his tutor, whom he cannot, from the disparity of years, and other circumstances, without pain (be- cause of this disparity) think of emulating ? And this, I conceive, is a very great advantage to such a school education as I mentioned in my former letter, where there are no more scholars taken in than the master can with ease and pleasure instruct. But one way, in my humble opinion, is left to answer this objection, and still preserve the reason for the preference which Mr. Locke gives to a home education ; and that is, what I formerly hinted, to take into your family the child of some honest neighbour of but middling circumstances, and like age of your own, but who should give apparent indications of his natural promptitude, ingenuous temper, obliging behaviour, and good manners; and to let him go hand in hand with yours in his several studies and lessons under the same tutor. The child would be sensible of the benefit, as well as of the distinction, he received, and consequently of w'lat was expected from him, and would double his diligence, and exert all his good qualities, which would inspire the young gentleman with the wished for emulation, and, as I imagine, would be so promotive of his learning, that it would greatly compensate the tutor for his pains with jhe additional scholar; for the young gentle- man would be ashamed to be outdone by one of like years and stature with himself. And little rewards might be proposed to the greatest profi- ient, in order to heighten the emulation. Then, Sir, the uenerosity, of such a method, to a gentleman of your for- tune, and beneficent mind, would he its own reward, were there no other benefit to be received from it. Moreover, such an ingenuous youth mi^ht, by his good morals and industry, hereafter be of service in some place of trust in the family ; or it would he easy for a g< ntlt man of your interest in the world, if such a thing offered not, to provide for the youth in the navy, in some of the public offices, or among your jirivate friends. If he proved faulty in his morals, bis dismission would be in your own power, and would be punish- ment enough. But if, on the other hand, he proved a sober, and hopeful youth, he 812 PAMELA. * " .' Emulation in Children. would make an excellent companion for your Billy in riper years ; as he would be, in a manner, a corroborator of bis morals ; for, as his circum- stances Would not support him in any extravagance, so they would he a check upon his inclination ; and this being seconded by the hopes of future preferment from your favour and interest, which he could not expect but upon the terms of his perseverance in virtue, be would find himself , under a necessity of setting such an example, as might be of great benefit to his companion, who should be watched as he grew up, that he did not (if his ample fortune became dangerous to his virtue) contribute out of his affluence to draw the other after him into extravagance. And to this end, as I humbly conceive, the noble doctrine of independence should be early instilled into both their minds, atid upon all occasions, inculcated and inforced ; which would be an inducement for the one to endeavour to improve his fortune by his honest industry, lest he never be enabled to rise out of a state of dependence ; and to the other, to keep, if not to improve, his own, lest he ever fall into such a servile state, and thereby lose the glorious power of conferring happiness on the deserving, one of the highest* pleasures that a generous mind can know ; a pleasure, Sir, which you have oftener experienced than thousands of gentlemen : and which may you still continue to experience for a long and happy succession of years, is the prayer of one, the most obliged of all others in her own person, as well as in the persons of her dearest relations, and who owes to this glo- rious beneficence the honour she boasts, of being your ever affectionate and grateful P. B. LETTER LXXXIII. BUT now, my dear Mr. B. if you will indulge me in a letter or two more, preparative to my little book, I will take the liberty to touch upon one or two other places, -wiierein I differ from this learned gentleman. But first, permit me to observe, that if parents are, above all things, to avoid giving bad examples to their children, they will be no less careful to shun the practice of such fond fathers and mothers, as are wont to indulge their children in bad habits, and give them their head, at a time when, like wax, their tender minds may be moulded into what shape they please. This is a point, that, if it please Goo, 1 will carefully attend to, because it is the foundation on which the superstructure of the whole future man is to he erected. For, according as he is indulged or checked in his childish follies, a ground is laid for his future happiness or misery; and if once they are suffered to become habitual to hiin, it cannot but be expected, that they will grow up with him, and that they will hardly ever be eradicated. " Try it," says Mr. Locke, speaking to this very point, " in a dog, or a horse, or any other creature, and see whether the ill and resty tricks they have learned when young, are easily to be mended, when PAMELA. 813 Correction of Children. they are knit; and yet none of these creatures are half so wilful and proud, or half so desirous to be masters of themselves, as men." And this brings me, dear Sir, to the head of punishments, in which, as well as in the article of rewards, which I have touched upon, I have a little objection to what Mr. Locke advances. But permit me, however, to premise, that I am exceedingly pleased with the method laid down by this excellent writer, rather to shame the child out of his fault than beat him ; which latter serves generally for nothing but to harden his mind. Obstinacy, and telling a lie, and committing a wilful fault, and then persisting in it, are, I agree with this gentleman, the only causes for which the child should be punished with stripes : and I admire the reasons he gives against a too rigorous and severe treatment of children. But 1 will give Mr. Locke's words, to which I have some objection. " It may be doubted," says he, " concerning whipping, when, as the fast redemy, it comes to be necessary, at ivhat time, and by whom, it should be done; whether presently, upon the committing the fault, whilst it is yet fresh and hot. I think it should not be done presently," adds he, ' lest passion mingle with it ; and so, though it exceed the just propor- tion, yet it lose of its due weight. For even children discern whenever we do things in a passion." I must beg leave, dear Sir, to differ from Mr. Locke in this point ; for I think it ought rather to be a rule with parents, who shall chastise their children, to conquer what would be extreme in their own passion on this occasion (for those who cannot do it, are very unfit to be punishers of the wayward passions of their children) than to defer the punishment, es- pecially if the child knows its fault has reached its parent's ear. It is otherwise, methinks, giving the child, if of an obstinate disposition, so much more time to harden its mind, and bid defiance to its punishment. Just now, dear Sir, your Billy is brought into my presence, all smiling, crowing to come to me, and full of heart-cheering promises ; and the sub- ject I a:n upon goes to my heart. Surely I can never beat your Billy! Dear little life of my life ! how can I think thou canst ever deserve it, or that 1 can ever inflict it ? No, my baby, that shrill be thy papa's task, if ever thou art so heinously naughty; and whatever fie does must be right. Pardon my foolish fondness, dear Sir! I will proceed. If then the fault he so atrocious as to deserve whipping, and the parent be resolved on this exemplary punishment, the child ought not, as I ima- gine, to come into one's presence without meeting with it, or else, a fondness too natural to be resisted will prohahly get the upper hand to one's resentment, and how shall one be able to whip the dear creature one had ceased to he angry with ! Then after be has once seen one without 814 PAMELA. -.Correction of Child- <;n. meeting his punishment, will he not be inclined to hope for connivance at bis fault, unless it should be repeated ? And may he not be apt (for chil- dren's resentments are strong) to impute to cruelty a correction (when he thought- the fault had been forgotten) that should always appear to be inflicted with reluctance, and through motives of love ? If, from anger at his fault, one should go above the due proportion (I am sure I might be trusted for this '.) let it take its course! How barba- rously, methinks, I speak ! He ought to feel the lash, first, because Vie deserves it, poor little soul ! Next, because it is proposed to be exemplary. And, lastly, because it is not intended to be often used : and the very passion or displeasure one expresses (if it be not enormous) will shew one is in earnest, and create in him a necessary awe, and fear to offend again. The end of the correction is to shew him the difference between right and wrong. And as it is proper to take him at his first offer of a full sub- mission and repentance (and not before) and instantly dispassionate one's self, and shew him the difference by acts of pardon and kindness (which will let him see that one punishes him out.of necessity rather than choice) so one would not be afraid to make him smart so sufficiently, that he should not soon forget the severity of the discipline, nor the disgrace of it. There's a cruel mamma for you, Mr. B. ! What my practice may be, I cannot tell ; but this theory, I presume to think, is right. As to the act itself, I much approve Mr. Locke's advice, to do it by pauses, mingling stripes and expostulations together, to shame and terrify the more ; and the rather, as the parent, by this slow manner of inflicting the punishment, will less need to be afraid of giving too violent a correc- tion ; for those pauses will afford him, as well as the child, opportunities for consideration and reflection. But as to the person by whom the discipline should be performed, I humbly conceive, that this excellent author is here also to be objected to. " If you have a discreet servant," says he, " capable of it, and has the place of governing your child (for if you have a tutor, there is no doubt) I think it is best the smart should come immediately from another's hand, though by the parent's order, who should see it done, whereby the parent's authority will be preserved, and the child's aversion for the pain it suffers, rather be turned on the person that immediately inflicts it. For I would have a father seldom strike a child, but upon very urgent necessity, and as the last remedy." 'Tis in such an urgent case that we are supposing it should be done at all. If there be not a reason strong enough for the father's whipping the child himself, there cannot be one for his ordering another to do it, and standing by -to see it done. But I humbly think, that if there be a neces- sity, no one can be so fit as the father himself to do it. The child cannot PAMELA. 815 d:s; ute his authority to punish, from whom he receives and expects all the good things of this life: he cannot question his love to him, and after the smart is over, and his obedience secured, must believe that so tender, so indulgent a father, could have no other end in whipping him, but his good. Against him, he knows, he has no remedy, but must passively submit ; and when he is convinced he must, he will in time conclude that he ought. But to have this severe office performed by a servant, though at the father's command, and that professedly, that the aversion of the child for the pain it suffers should be turned on the person who immediately inflicts k, is, I humbly think, the reverse of what ought to be done. And more so, if this servant has any direction of the child's education ; and still much more so, if it be his tutor, though Mr. Locke says, there is no doubt, if there be a tutor, that it should he done by him. For, dear Sir, is there no doubt, that the tutor should lay himself open to the aversion of the child, whose manners he is to form ? Is not the best method a tutor can take, in order to inforce the lessons he would inculcate, to try to attract the love and attention of his pupil by the most winning ways he can possibly think of ? And yet is he, this very tutor, out of all doubt, to be the instrument of doing a harsh and disgraceful thing, that in the last resort, when all other methods are found ineffectual ; and that too, because he ought to incur the child's resentment and aversion, rather than the father?- No, surely, Sir, it is not reasonable it should be so: quite contrary, in my humble notion, there can be no doubt, but that it should he otherwise. It should, methinks, be enough for a tutor, in case of a fault in the child, to threaten to complain to his father; but yet not to make such a complaint, without the child obstinately persists in his error, which, too, should be of a nature to merit such an appeal : and this might highly contribute to preserve the parent's authority ; who, on this occasion, should never fail of extorting a promise of amendment, or of instantly punishing him with his own hands. And, to soften the distaste he might conceive in resentment of too rigid complainings, it might not be amiss, that his interposition in the child's favour, were the fault not too flagrant, should be permitted to save him once or twice from the impended discipline. 'Tis certain that the passions, if I may so call them, of affection and aversion, are very early discoverable in children ; insomuch that they will, even before they can speak, afford us marks for the detection of a hypo- critical appearance of love to it before the parents' faces, for the fondness or averseness of the child to some servants, will at any time let one know, whether their love to the baby is uniform and the same, when otic is absent, as preteut. In one case the child will reject with sullenncsi all th littlt 816 PAMELA. Cornction ot'JLInldren. sycophanees made to it in one's sight ; while, on the other, its fondness of the person, who generally obliges it, is an infallible rule to judge of such an one's sincerity behind one's back. This little observation shews the strength of a child's resentments, and its sagacity at tiie earliest age, in discovering who obliges and who disobliges it : and hence one may infer how improper a person he is, whom we would have a child to love and res- pect, or by whose precepts we would have it directed, to be the punisher of its faults, or to do any harsh or disagreeable office to it. For my own part, I beg to declare, that if the parent were not to inflict the punishment himself, I think it much better it should be given him, in the parent's presence, by the servant of the lowest consideration in the family, and whose manners and example one would he the lean willing of any other he should follow. Just as the common executioner, who is the lowest and most flagitious officer of the commonwealth, and who frequently deserves, as much as the criminal, the punishment he is chosen to inflict, is pitched upon to perform, as a mark of greater ignominy, sentences intended as examples to deter others from the commission of heinous crimes. The Almighty took this method when he was disposed to correct severely the chosen people; for, in that case, he generally did it by the hands of the most profligate nations around them, as we read in many places of the Old Testament. But the following rule I admire in Mr. Locke : " When," says he (for any misdemeanor) " the father or mother looks sour on the cbilo, every one else should put on the same coldness to him, and nobody give him countenance till forgiveness" is asked, and a reformation of his fault has set him right again, and restore him to his former credit. If this were constantly observed," adds he, " I guess there would be little netd of blows or chiding : their own ease or satisfaction would quickly teach chil- dren to court commendation, and avoid doing that which they found every body condemned, and they were sure to suffer for, without being chid or beaten. This would teach them modesty and shame, and they would quickly come to have a natural abhorrence for that which they found made them slighted and neglected by every body." This affords me a pretty hint ; for if ever your charming Billy shall be naughty, I will proclaim throughout your worthy family that the little dear is in disgrace! And one shall shun him, another decline answering him, a third say, " No, master, I cannot obey you,--till your mamma is pleased with you ;" a fourth, " Who shall mind what little masters bid them do, when they won't mind what their mammas say to them ?" And when the dear little soul finds this, he will cortle in my way ( and I See, pardon me, my dear Mr. B. he h;ts some of his papa's spirit, already, indeed he has!) and I will direct myself with double kindness to your PAMELA. 81? beloved Davers, and to my Miss Goodwin, and not notice the dear creature, if I can help it, till I can see his papa (forgive my boldness) banished from his little sullen brow, and all his mamma rise to his eyes. And when his musical tongue shall be unlocked to own his fault, and pro- mise amendment Oh, then! how shall I clasp him to my bosom ! and tears of joy, I know, will meet his tears of penitence ! How these flights, dear Sir, please a bod}! What delight have those mammas (which some fashionable dear ladies are quite unacquainted with) who can make their babies, and their first educations, their enter- tainment and diversion ! To watch the dawnings of reason in them, to direct their little passions, as they shew themselves, to this or that (par- ticular point of benefit or use; and to prepare the sweet .virgin soil of their minds t receive .the seeds of virtue and goodness so early, that, as they grow up, one need only now a little proniug, and now a little water, to make them the ornaments and delights of the garden of this life ! .And then their pretty ways, their fond and grateful endearments, some new beauty every day rising to observation O my dearest Mr. B. whose enjoyments and pleasures are so great, as those of such mothers as can bend their minds two or three hours every day to the duties of the nursery ':" I have a few other things to observe upon Mr. Livcke's treatise, which, when I have done, I shall read, admire, and improve by the rest, as my years and experieHce advance; of which, in my proposed little book, I shall give you better proofs than I am able to do at present ; raw, crude, and indigested as the notions of so young a mamma must needs be. But these shall be the subjects of another letter ; for now I am come to the pride and the pleasure 1 always have, when I subscribe myself, dearest Sir, your ever dutijul an(( grateful V. B. LETTER LXXXIV. DEAR SIR, MR. LOCKE giv' A good introduction," adds he, ironically, " to mo- derate desires, and the ready way to make a contented happy man." All that I shall offer to this, is, that few men are so philosophical as one would wish them.to be, much less children. But, no doubt, this variety engaged the child's activity ; which, of the two might be turned to better purposes than sloth or indolence ; and if the maid was tired, it might be, Itecause she was r.-ot so much alive as the child ; and perhaps this part of the grievance might not be so great, because, if she was his attendant, 'tis probable she had nothing else to do. However, in the main, as Mr. Locke says, it is no matter how few play- things the child is indulged with : but yet I can hardly persuade myself; that plenty of them can have such bad consequences as he apprehends ; and the rather, because they will excite his attention, and promote his industry and activity. His inquiry after new things, let him have few or many, is to be expected as a consequence to those natural desire, which are implanted in him, and will every day increase : but this maybe ob- served, that as he grows in years, he will be above some playthings, and so the number of the old ones will be always reducible, pi rhaps in a greater proportion than the new ones will increase. On the head of good breeding, he observes, that - " there are two sorts of ill breeding ; the one a sheepish bashfulness, and the other a mis- becoming negligence and disrespect in our carriage ; both which," says he, " are avoided by duly observing this one rule, not to think meanly of ourselves, and not to think meanly of others." I think, as Mr. L>< ki ex- plains this rule, it is an excellent one. But I would beg to observe upon it, that however discommendable a bashful teni] er i-, in some in where it must be deemed a weakness of the mind, vet, in n.v bumble opinion, it is generally the mark of an ingenuous one, and i- a'w i\s to be preferred to an undistinguishing and hardy confidence, widen, as it seems to me, is the genuine production of invincible ignorant . What is faulty in it, which he calls sherpislotrxs, should indeed be sh ken off as soon as possible, because it is an eneim to ineri: in its advancement in the world but, Sir, were I to chouse a companion for yout Billy, as bo 320 PAMELA. I I , l l ! -II I ' I.. Amusements of Children. grows up, I should not think the worse of the youth, who, not having had the opportunities of knowing men, or seeing the world, had this defect. On the contrary, I should be apt to look upon it as an outward fence or inclosure to his virtue, which might keep off the lighter attacks of im- morality, the hussars of vice, as I may say, who are not able to carry on a formal siege against his morals ; and I should expect such an one to be docile, humane, good humoured, diffident of himself, and therefore most likely to improve as well in mind as behaviour : while a hardened mind, that never doubts itself, must be a stranger to its own infirmities, and suspecting none, is impetuous, overbearing, incorrigible: and, if rich, a tyrant ; if not, possibly an invader of other men's properties : or at least, such an one as allows itself to walk so near the borders of injustice, that where sclf'is concerned, it hardly ever does right things. Mr. Locke proposes a very pretty method to cheat children, as it were, into learning : but then he adds, "There may be dice and playthings, with the letters on them, to teach children the alphabet by playing." And, " I knoW a person of great quality, who, by pasting on the six vowels (for in our language y is one) on the six sides of a dice, and the remaining eighteen consonants on the sides of three other dice, has made this a play for his children, that he shall win, who at one cast throws most words on these four dice ; whereby his eldest son, yet in coats, has flayed himself into spelling with great eagerness, and without once having been chid for it, or forced to it." But I had rather your Billy should be a twelvemonth backwarder for want of this method, than forwarded by it. For what may not be feared from so early inculcating the use of dice and gaming, upon the minds of children ? Let Mr. Locke himftlf speak to'this in his 203, and I wish I could reconcile the two passages in this excellent author. " As to cards and dice," says he, " I think the safest and best way is, never to learn any play upon them, and so to be incapacitated for these dangerous temp- tations, and encroaching wasters of useful time." And, he might have added of the noblest estates and fortunes ; while sharpers and scoundrels have been lifted into distinction upon their ruins. Yet, in 153, Mr. Locke proceeds to give direction in relation to the dice he recommends. But after all, it' some innocent plays were fixed upon to cheat children into reading, that, as he says, should look as little like a task as possible, it must needs be of use tor that purpose. But let every gentleman, who has a fortune to lose, and who, if he games, is on a foot with the vilest company, who generally have nothing at all to risk, tremble at the thoughts of teaching his son, though for the most laudable purposes, the early use of dice and gaming. But how much I am charmed with a hint in Mr. Locke, which makes PAMELA. 821 Maternal Instruction. your Pamela hope she may be of greater use to your children, even as they grow up, than she could ever have flattered herself to be. 'Tis a charming, paragraph ; I must not skip one word of it. Thus it begins, and I will observe upon it^as I go along: " But_under whose care soever a child is put to be taught, during the tender and flexible years of his life, this is certain, it should be one who thinks Latin and language the least ,part of education," How agreeable is this to my notions which I durst not have avowed, but after so excellent a scholar ! For I have long had the thought, that much time is wasted to little purpose in the attaining of Latin. Mr. H. 1 think, says he was ten years in endeavouring to learn it, and, as far as I can rind, knows nothing at all of the matter neither! Indted he lays that to the wicked picture in his grammar, which he took for granted (as he has often said, as well as once written) was put there to teach boys to rob orchards, instead of improving their minds in learning, or common honesty. But (for this is too light an instance for the subject) Mr. Locke pro- ceeds " One who knowing how much virtue and a well-tempered soul is to be preferred to any sort of learning or language," [What a noble writer is this !\ " makes it his chief bus ness to form the mind of his scholars, and give that a right disposition :" [Ay, there, dear Sir, is the thing!] " which if once got, although all the rest should be neglected," [charmingly ob- served /] " would, in due time" [without wicked dice 7 hope /] " produce all the rest ; and which, if it be not got and settled, so as to keep out ill and vicious habits, languages, and sciences, and all the other accomplishments of education, will be to no purpose, but to make the worse or more dan- gerous man." [ Now comes the place I emi so much delighted with .'] " And^ indeed, whatever stir there is made about getting of Latin, as the great and difficult business, his mother" [thank you, dear Sir, for puffing this excellent author into my hands /] " may teach it him herself, if she will but spend two or three hours in a day with him" [if she will! Never fear, but I will, with the highest pleasure in the world .'] " and make him read the Evangelists in Latin to her." [How I long to be five or six years older, as well as my dearest babies, that I may enter upon this charming scheme !\ " For she need but buy a Latin Testament, and having got somebody to mark the last syllable but one, where it is long, in words above two syllables (which is enough to regulate her pronunciation and accenting the words) read daily in the Gospels, and then let her avoid understanding them in Latin, if she can." Why, dear Sir, you have taught me almost all this already; and you, my beloved tutor, have told me often, I read and pronounce Latin more than tolerably, though I don't understand it : but thia method will teach 3 ii 3 SOT PAMELA. Maternal Inst' notion. - ' me, as well as your Hear children But thus the gout! gentleman proceeds " And when she understands the Evangelists in Latin, let her in the same manner 4 read /Esop's Fables, and so proceed tin to Eutropins, Justin, and such other books. I do not mention this" adds Mr. Locke, " as an imagination of what I fancy may do, but as of a thing I have known done, and the Latin tongue got with ease this way." He then mentions other advantages, which the child may receive from, his mother's instruction, which I will try more and more to qualify myself for : particularly, after be has intimated, that " at the same time that the child is learning French and Latin he may be entered also in arithmetic, geography, chronology, history, and geometry too ; for it," says he, " these be taught him in French or Latin, when he begins once to understand either of these tongues, he will get a knowledge of these sciences, and the language to boot." He then proceeds : " Geography, I think, should be begun with : for the le am ng of the figure of the globe, the situation and boundaries of the four parts of the world, and that of particular kingdoms and countries, being only an exercise of the eyes and memory, a child with pleasure will learn and retain them. And this is so certain, that I now live in a hm.se with a child, whom his Mother has so well instructed this way in geography," [But had she not, do you think, dear Sir, some of this good gentleman's k'nd assistowe ?] " that he knew the limits of the four parts of the world : would readily point, being asked, to any country upon the globe, or any county in the map of England; knew all the great rivers, promontories, straits, and bays in the world, and could find the longitude and latitude of any place, before he was six years aid. There's for you, dear Sir! See what a mother can do if she pleases ! I remember, Sir, formerly, in thai sweet chariot conference, at the dawn- inir of my hopes, when all my dangers \\re happily over (a conference 1 shall always think of with pleasure) that you asked me, how I would bestow my time, supposing the neighbouring ladies would be above being seen in my company; when I should have no visits to receive or return ; no par'ies of pleasure to join hi ; no card tables to employ my winter evenings ? 1 then, Sir, transported with my opening prospects, prattled to you, how well I would try to pa,s mv time, in the family management and ac- counts, in visits now and then to the indigent and worthy poor; in music sometimes; in reading, in writing, in my superior duties And I hope I have not behaved quite unworthily of my promises. P.ut I also remember, what once you said on a certain occasion, which now, since the fair proepe.t is no longer distant, and that I have been so 1 tt<^ your happy wife, I may repeat without those blushes which then covered my face ; thus then, with a modest grace, and with that virtuous PAMELA. 823 Maternal Instruction. endearment that is so beautiful in your sex, as well as in ours, whether in the character of lover or husband, maiden or wife, you were pleased to say " And I hope, my Pamela, to have superadded to all these, such an employmentas "in short, Sir, I am now blessed with, and writing of ; no less than the useful part I may be able to take in the first education of your beloved babies ! And now I must add, that this pleasing hope sets me above all other diversions: I wish for no parties of pleasure but with you, my dearest Mr. B. and these are the parties that will improve me,and make me more capable of the other, and more worthy of your conversation, and of the time you pass (beyond what I could ever have promised to my utmost wishes) in such poor company as mine, for no other reason but because I love to be instructed, and take my lessons well, as you are pleased to say : and indeed I must be a sad dunce, if I did not, from so skilful and so beloved a master. 1 want no card table amusements : for I hope, in a few years (and a proud hope it is) to be able to teach your dear little ones the first rudiments, as Mr. Locke points the way, of Latin, of French, aud of geography, and arithmetic. O my dear Mr. B. by your help and countenance, what may I not be able to teach them, and how may 1 prepare the way tor a tutor's instructions, and give him up minds half cultivated to his hands ! And all this time improve myself too, not only in science, but in nature, by tracing in the little babes what all mankind are, and have been, from infancy to riper years, and watching the sweet dawnings of reason, and delighting in every bright emanation of that ray of divinity lent to the human mind,, for great and happy purposes, when rightly pointed and directed. There is no going farther after these charming recollections and hopes, for they bring me to that grateful remembrance, to whom, under Gou, I owe them all, and also what I have been for so happy a period, and what I am, which will ever be my pride anil my glory ; and well it may, when I look back to my beginning with humble acknowledgment, and can call myself, dearest Mr. B. your honoured and honourc/ i ; 1 1 v, ,, a '" . emale C'a|iacitj .1.1 i LVloc-Uion. / You have been so good as to tell me (at the same time that you disap- prove not these my specimen letters as I may call them) that you will kindly accept of my intended present, and encourage me to proceed in it; and as I shall leave one side of the leaf blank for your corrections and alterations, those corrections will be a fine help and instruction to me in the pleasing task which I propose to myself, of assisting in the early edu- cation of your dear children. And as I may be years in writing it, as the dear babes improve, as I myself improve, bythe opportunities which their advances in years will give me, and the experience I shall gain, I may then venture to give my notions on the more material and nobler parts of edu- cation, as weli as the inferior : for (but that I think the subjects above my present abilities] Mr. Locke's book would lead me into several remarks, that might not be unuseful, aud which appear to me entirely new ; though that may be owing to my slender reading and opportunities, perhaps. But what I would now touch upon, is a wordj>r two still more par- ticularly upon the education of my own sex ; a topic which naturally arises to me from my last letter. For there, dear Sir, we saw, tb it the mothers might teach the child this part of science, and that part of instruction ; and who, I pray, as otir sex is generally educated, shall teach the mothers? How, in a word, shall thty come by their knowledge? I know you'll be apt to say, that Miss Goodwin gives all the promises of becoming a fine young lady, and takes her learning, loves reading, and makes very pretty reflections upon all she reads, and asks very pertinent questions, and is as knowing, at her years, as most young ladies. This is very true, Sir ; but it is not every one. that can boast of Mi-' Goodwin's capacity, and goodness of temper, which have enabled her to get up a good deal of lost time, as I must call it ; for her first four years were a perfect blank, as far as I can find, just as if the pretty dear was born the day she was four years old; for what she had to unlearn as to .temper, and will, and such things, set against what little improvements she had made, might very fairly be compounded for as a blank. I would indeed have a girl brought up ttt her needle, but I would not have all her time employed in samplers, and learning to mark, and do those unnecessary things, which she will never, probably, be called upon to practise. And whv, pray, are not girls entitled to the saraejfrs( education, though not to the 'ame plays and diversions as boys ; so far, at least, as is supposed by Mr. L >i ke a mother can instruct them? Would not this lay a found.tt ion for their future improvement, and direct their inclinations to useful subjects, sm h as would make them above the imputations of some unkind gentlemen, who allot to their part common tea-table prattle, while they do all they can to make them fit for PAMELA. 835 Female Capacity and Education. nothing else, and then upbraid them for it ? And w mid not the men find us better and more suitable companions and assistants to them in even' useful purpose of life ? Oh, that your lovely sex were all like my dear Mr. B. I don't mean that they should all take raw, uncouth, unbred, lowly girls, as T was, from the cottage, and, destroying all distinction, make such their wives ; for there is a far greater likelihood, that such .n one, when she comes to be lifted up into so dazzling a sphere, would have her head made giddy with her exaltation, i than that she would balance herself well in it : and to what a blot, over all the fair page of a long life, would this little drop of dirty ink spread itself! What a standing disrepu- tation to the choice of a gentleman ! But this I mean, that after a gentleman had entered into the marriage state with a young creature 'saying nothing at all of birth or descent) far inferior to him in learning, in parts, in knowledge of the world, and in all the graces which make conversation agreeable and improving, he would, as you do, endeavour to make her fit company for himself, as he shall find she is willing to improve, and capable of improvement : that he would direct her taste, point out to her proper subjects for her amusement and instruction ; travel with her now and then, a month in a year per- haps ; and shew her the world, after he has encouragpd her to put herself .forward at his own table, and at the houses of his friends, and has seen, that she will not do him great discredit any where. What obligations, and opportunities too, will this give her to love and honour such a husband, every hour, more and more! as she will see his wisdom in a thousand instances, and experience his indulgence to her in ten thousand, to the praise of his politeness, and the honour of them bo;h ! And then, when select parties of pleasure or business engaged him not abroad, in his home conversation, to have him delight to instruct and open her views, and in- spire her with an ambition to enlarge her mind, and more and more to excel ! What an intellectual kind of married life would such persons find theirs '. And bow suitable to the rules of policy and self-love in the gen- tleman ! for \* not the wife, and are not her improvements, all his own? Absoluttlfi, as I may say, hit own? And does not every excellence she can be adorned by, redound to her husband's honour because she is his, even more than to her own ? In like manner as no dishonour affects a man so much, as that which he receives from a bad wife. But where is such a gentleman as M . B. to be met with ? Look round and see where, with all the advantages of sex, of education, of travel, of conversation in the open world, a gentleman of his abilities to instruct and inform, is to be found? And there are others, who, perhaps, will question the capacities or inclinations of our sex in general, to improve in useful knowledge, were they to meet with such kind instructors, either in the characters of parents or husbands. 826 PAMELA. Female Cap.icity and liduc.ilion. As to the first, I grant, that it is not easy to find such a gentleman : hut rbr the second (if excusable in me, who am one or the sex, and so may be thought partial to it) I could, by comparison drawn from the gen- tlemen and ladies within the circle of my own acquaintance, produce instance;, which are so flagrantly in their favour, as might make it sus- pected, that it is policy more than justice, in those who would keep our sex unacquainted with that more eligible turn of education, which gives the gentlemen so many advantages over us in that; and which will shew, they h lve none at all in nature or genius. I know you will pardon me, dear Sir : for you are So exalted above your Pamela, by nature and education too, that you cannot apprehend any inconvenience from bold comparisons. 1 will beg, therefore, to men- tion a few instances among our friends, where the ladies, notwithstanding their more cramped and confined education, make morethan an equal figure with the gentlemen in all the graceful parts of conversation, in spite of the contempts poured out upon our sex by some witty gentlemen, whose writings I have in my eye. To begin then with Mr. Murray, and Miss Darnford that was ; Mr. Murray has the reputation of scholarship, and has travelled too ; but how infinitely is he surpassed in every noble and useful quality, and in greatness of mind, and judgment, as Well as wit, by the young lady I have named ! This we saw, when last at the hall, in fifty instances, where the gentleman was, you know, S*.r, on a visit to Sir Simon and his lady. Next, dear Sir, permit me to observe, that my good Lord Davers, with all his advantages, born a counsellor of the realm, and educated accor- dingly, does not surpass his lady. My countess, as 1 delight to call her, and Lady Betty, her eldest daugh- ter, greatly surpass the earl, and her eldest brother, in every point of knowledge, and even learning, as 1 may say, although both ladies owe that advantage principally to their own cultivation and acquirement. Let me presume, Sir, to name Mr. H. : and when I have named him, shall we not be puzzled to find any where in onr sex, one remove from vulgar life, a woman that will not outdo Mr. H. Lady Darnford, upoji all useful subjects, makes a much brighter figure than Sir Simon, whose knowledge of the world has not yet made him acquainted with himself. Mr. Arthur excels not his lady. Mrs. Towers, a maiden lady, is an over-match for half a dozen of the neighbouring gentlemen I could name, in what is called wit and politeness, and not inferior to any of them in judgment. I could multiply such instances, were it needful, to the confutation of that low, and I had almost said, unmanly contempt, with which a certain celebrated genius treats our sex in general, in most of his pieces I have seen ; particularly his Letter of Advice to a new married Lady ; so written. PAMELA. 827 Fem-.i. Capacity and K^ucatio . as must digust, instead of instruct ; and looks more like the advice of an enemy to the grx, and a bitter one too, than a friend to the particular lady. But I ought to beg pardon for this my presumption, for two reasons ; firs*, because of the truly admirable talent sol' this writer; and next, because we know not what ladies the ingenious gentleman may have fallen among iu his younger days. Upon the whole, therefore, I conclude, that Mr. B. is almost the only gentleman, who excels every lady that I have seen ; so greatly excels, that even the emanations of his' excellence irradiate a low cottage-bom girl, and make her pass among ladies of birth and education for somebody. Forgive my pride, dear Sir ; but it would be almost a crime in your Pamela not to exult in the mild benignity of those rays, by which her beloved Mr. B. endeavours to make her look up to his own-sunny sphere : while she, by r he advantage only of his reflected glory, in his absence, which makes a dark night to her, glides along with her paler and fainter beamiiie->s, and makes a distinguishing figure among such lesser planets, as can only poorly twinkle and glimmer, for want of the aid she boasts of. . I dare not, Sir, conjecture whence arises this more than parity in the genius of the sexes, among the above persons, notwithstanding the dis- parity of education, and the difference in the opportunities of each. This mi^ht lead oni- into too proud a thought in favour of a sex too con- temptuously treated by some other wits I could name, who, indeed, are the less to be regarded, as they love to jest upon all God Almighty's works : yet mi;ht I better do it, too, than any body, since I am so infinitely tran- scended by my husband, that no competition, pride, or vanity, could be apprehended from me. But, however, I would only leg of those who are so free in their con- tempts of us, that they would, for their own sakes (and that, with such, generally goes a gnat way) rather try to 'improve than depreciate us : we should thi n make In tter daughters, better wives, better mothers, and better mistresses : and who (permit me, Sir, to ask them) would be so nttiih ile bitter for these opportunities and amendments, as our upbraid- tr? themselves ? On reperusing this, 1 must repeatedly beg your excuse for these proud notions in behalf of my si x, which, 1 can truly say, are not owing: to par- tiality, because, I have thi honour to be one of it; lAit to a far better motive : for what does this Conti mptuous treatment of one-half, if not tin; bttttr half, of the human species, natural!) produce, but libertinism and abandoned wickedness ? fordoes it not tend to in.- k< the daughters, the sifters, the wives of gentlemen, the subjects of profligate attempts? Docs it not render the sex vile in the eyes of the most vile ? And when 828 PAMELA. -- --'' ' ' ' Female Capacity and Education. a lady is no longer beheld by such persons with that dignity and reverence, with which, perhaps, the graces of her person, and the innocence of her mind, should sacredly, as it were, encompass her, do not her very excel- lencies become so many incentives for base wretches to attempt her virtue, and bring about her ruin ? What then may not wicked wit have to answer for, when its possessors prostitute it to such unmanly purposes ? And as if they had never had a mother, a sister, a daughter of their own, throw down, as much as in them lies, those sacred fences which may lay the fair inclosure open to the invasions of every clumsier and viler beast of prey ; who, though destitute of their wit, yet corrupted by it, shall fill their mouths, as well as their hearts, with the borrowed mischief, and propagate it from one to another, to the end of time ; and who, otherwise, would have passed by the unin- vaded fence, and only shewed their teeth, and snarled at the well-secured fold within it? You cannot, my dearest Mr. B. I know, be angry, at this romantic painting : since you are not affected by it : for when at worst, you acted (more dangerously, 'tis true, for the poor innocents) & principal part, and were as a lion among beasts Do, dear Sir, let me say among, this one time You scorned to borrow any man's wit ; and it" nobody had followed your example, till they had had your qualities, the number of rakes would have been but small. Yet, don't mistake me neither ; I am not so mean as to bespeak your favour by extenuating your failings ; if I were, you would deservedly despise me. For, undoubtedly (I must say it, Sir) your faults were the greater for your perfections : and such talents misapplied, as they made you more capable of mischief, so did they increase the evil of your practices. All then that 1 mean by saying you are not affected by this painting, is, that you are not affected by my description of clumsy and sordid rakes, whose wit is borrowed, and their wickedness only what they may call their own. Then, dear Sir, since that noble conversation you held with me at Tunbridge, in relation to the consequences that might, had it not been for God's grace intervening, have followed the masquerade affair, I have the inexpressible pleasure to find a thorough reformation, from the best motives, taking place ; and your joining with me in my closet (as oppor- tunity permits) in my evening duties, is a charming confirmation of your kind and voluntary, and, I am proud to say, pious assurances ; so that this makes me fearless of your displeasure, while 1 rather triumph in my joy, for your precious soul's sake, than presume to think of recriminating ; and when (only for this once) 1 take the liberty of looking back from the delightful now, to the painful formerly I But, what a rambler am I again '. You command me to write to you all PAMELA. 829 Letter from Mrs. B. to her Parents. I think, without fear. I obey, and, as the phrase is, do it without either fear or wit. If you &re-not displeased, it is a mark of the true nobleness of your nature, and th% sincerity of your late pious decl irations. If you are, I shall be sure I have done wrong in having applied a cor- rosive to eat away the proud flesh of a wound, that is not yet so thoroughly digested, as to bear a painful application, and requires balsam, and a gen- tler treatment. But when we were at Bath, I remember what you said once of the benefit of retrospection ; and you charged me, whenever a proper opportunity offered, to remind you, by that one word, retrospection, of the charming conversation we had there, on our return from the rooms. If this be not one of them, forgive, dearest Sir, the unreasonableness of your very impertinent, butj in intention and resolution, ever dutiful P. B. LETTER LXXXVI. From Mrs. B. to her Father and Mother. EVER DEAR, AND EVER HONOURED, I MUST write this one letter, although I have hail the happiness to see you so lately ; because Mr. B. is now about to honour me with the tour he so kindly promised ; and it may therefore be several months, perhaps, before I have again the pleasure of paying you the like dutiful respects. You know his kind promise, that he would for every lear baby I present him with, take an excursion with me afterwards, in order to establish and confirm my health. The full employment I have, when at home ; % the frequent rambles he has so often indulged me in, with my dear Miss Goodwin, to Kent, London, Bedfordshire, Lincolnshire, and to my Lady Davers, take from me the necessity of writing to you, to my Mjss Darn- ford that was, and to Lady Davers, so often as I formerly thought mvself obliged to do, when I saw all my worthy friends so seldom ; the same things, moreover, with little variation, occurring this year, rts to our con- versations, visits, friend*, employments, and amusements, that fell out the last, as must be the case in a family so uniform and methodical as our-. I have, for these reason*:, more leisure to pursue my domestic duties which are increased upon me ; and when 1 have said, that I am every day more and more happy in my beloved Mr. B. in Miss Goodwin, mv Billy, hit Davers, and now, newly, in my sweet little Pamela 'for so, you know, Lady Davers would have her called, rather than by her own nunc what can I say more ? As to the tour I spoke of, you know, the first part of Mr. B.'s obliging scheme is to carry me to France; for he has already travelled with me over the greatest part of England ; and I am sure, by my passage last year to the Isle of Wight, I shall not be afraid of crossing the water from 830 PAMELA. Letter from Mrs. B. to her Parents. Dover thither; and he wiil, when we are at Paris, he says, .take my farther directions (that was his kind expression) whither to go next. My Lord and Lady Davers are so good as to promise to accompany us to Paris, provided Mr. B. will give them our company to Aix la Chapelle, for a month or six weeks, whither my lord is advised to go. And Mr. H. if he can get over his fear of crossing the salt water, is to be of the party. Lady G. Miss Darnford that was (who likewise has lately lain-in of a fine daughter) ami 1, are to correspond, as opportunity offers ; and she promises to send you what I write, as formerly : but I have refused to say one word in my letters of the manners, customs, curiosities, &c. of the places we see ; because, first, I shall not have leisure ; 'and, next, those things are so much better described in books, written by persons who made stricter and better observations than I can pretend to make : so.that what I shall write will relate only to -our private selves, and be as brief as possible. If we are to do as Mr. B. has it in his thoughts, he intends to be out of England two years : but how can 1 bear that, if for your sakes only, and for those of my dear babies ! But this must be my time, my only time, Mr. B. says, to ramble and see distant places and countries ; for as soon as his little ones are capable of my instructions, and begin to understand my looks and signs, he will not spare me from them a week together ; and he is so kind as to propose, that my dear bold boy (for every one sees how greatly he resembles his papa in his dear forward spirit) shall go with us ; and this pleases Miss Goodwin highly, who is very fond of him, and my little Davers; but vows she will never love so well my pretty black-eyed Pamela. You see what a sweet girl Miss is, and you admired her much : did I tell you, what she said to me, when first she saw you both, with your silver hairs, and reverend countenances ? " Madam, I dare say your papa and mamma honoured their father and mother." " They did, my dear ; but what is your reason for saying so ?" " Because they hare lived so long in the land which the Lori> their Got) has given them." i took the charmer in my arms, and kissed her three or four times, as she deserved ; for was not this very pretty in the child ? I must, with inexpressible pleasure, write you word how happily Gon' Providence has now, at last, turned that affair, which once made me so uneasy, in relation to the fine countess (who has been some time abroad) of whom you had heard, as you told me, some reports, which, had you known at the time, would have made you very apprehensive for Mr. B.'i morals, as well as for my repose. I will now (because I can do it with the highest pleasure, by reason of the event it has produced) explain that dark affair, so far as shall make PAMELA. 831 Mrs. B.'s Method of reforming Mr. B. you judges of my present joy : although I had hitherto avoided entering into that subject to you. For now I think myself, by God's grace, secure to tha affection and fidelity of the best of husbands, and that from the worthiest motives ; as you shall hear. There was butane thing wanting to complete all the happiness I wished for in this life ; which was, the remote hope I had entertained, that one day, 'my dear Mr. B. who from a licentious gentleman became a moralist, would be so touched by the divine Grace, as to become, in time, more than moral, a religious man, and, at last, join in the duties which he had the goodness to countenance. For this reason I began with mere indispensablcs. I crowded not his gates with objects of charity : I visited them at their homes, and relieved them; distinguishing the worthy -indigent (made so by unavoidable acci- dents and casualties) from the. wilfully, or perversely, or sottishly such, by greater marks of my favour. I confined my morning and evening devotions to my own private closet, lest I should give offence and discouragement to so gay a temper, so un- accustomed (poor gentleman) to acts of devotion and piety ; whilst I met his household together, only on mornings and evenings of the Sabbath-day, to prepare them for their public duties in the one, and in hopes to confirm them in what they had heard at church in the other ; leaving them to their own reflections for the rest of the week ; after I had suggested a method I wished them to follow, and in which they constantly obliged me. This good order had its desired effect, and our Sabbath-day assemblies were held with so little parade, that we were hardly any of us missed. All, in short, was done with cheerful ease and composure : and every one of us was better disposed to our domestic duties ; I, to attend the good pleasure of my best friend ; and they, that of us both. Thus we went on, very happily, my neighbourly visits of charity taking up no more time than common airings, and passing many of them for such ; my private duties being only between my First, my Heavenly Benefactor, and myself, and my family ones (personally) confined to the day separated for these best of services, and Mr. B. pleased with my man- ner, beheld the good effects, and countenanced me by his praises and his endearments, as acting discreetly, as not falling into enthusiasm, and as bt used to say; as not aiming at being ri^/itenu.i orer-rrruch. But .still I w. iiited, and waited for, with bumble patience, and made it part of my constant prayers, that the divine Grace would at last touch hi-> heart, and make him more than acountcnancer, more than an applauder of ni} duties ; that he miglit, for his own dear sake, become a partaker in them. " And then," thought I, " when we can, hand in hand, heart in heart, one spirit as well as one flesh, join in (lie same closet, in the same prayers and thanksgiving, wuat a happy creature shall I be." 832 PAMELA. Mrs B.'s M tl.o.l ol iv - / M B. I say closet ,\ for I durst not aspire so high as to hope (he favour of his company among his servants, in our Sunday devotions. I ki.ew it would be going too far, in his opinion, to expect it from him. In me their mis- tress, had 1 been ever so high-born, it was not amiss, because I, and they, every one of us, were his; I in one degree, Mr. Longman in another, Mrs. J>-i vis in another But from a man of his high temper and manner of education, I knew I could never hope for it, so would not lose evei-y thing, by grasping at t m much. But in the midst of all these comfortable proceedings, and my further charming hopes, a nasty masquerade threw into his way a temptation, which for a tim" blasted all my prospects, and indeed made me doubt my > own head almost. For, .judge my disappointment, when I found all my wishes frustrated, all my prayers rendi red ineffectual ; his very morality, which I had flattered myself, iu time, I should be a humble instrument to exalt into religion, shocked, and in danger; and all the work to begin over gain, if offended Grace should ever again offer itself tp the dear wilful trespasser ! But who should pretend to scrutinize the councils of the Almighty? For out of all this evil appearance was to proceed the real good, I had been so long 1 , and so often, supplicating for ! The dear man was to be on the brink of relapsing : it was proper, that I should be so very uneasy, as to assume a conduct not natural to my tem- per, a*id to raise his generous concern for "me: and, in the very crisis, divirtV" Grace interposed, made him sensible of his danger, made him resolve ag -it'st his error, before it was yet too late : and his sliding feet, quitting the slipperv path he was in, collected new strength, and he stood the fir- mer and more secure for his peril. For having luppily put a stop to that affair, and by his uniform conduct, for a considerable time, shewed me that I had nothing to apprehend from it, he wa- pleased, when we were last at Tunbridge, and in very serious discourse upon divine subjects, to ay to this effect : " Is there not, my Pamela, a text, Thai the unbelieving husband shall be saved by the believing wife, whilst he beholds her chaste conversation coupled uiithj'carj" " I need not tell you, my dear M . B that there is, nor where it is." " Then, my dear, I begin to hope, that iviil be my case ; for, from a- f rmer affair, of which this spot of ground puts me more in mind, 1 see so much reason to doubt my own strength, which I hid built, and, as I thought securely, on nior I foundations, that I must .look out for a better guide to conduct me, than the proud word honour can be, in the general acceptation of it among us lively voting gentlemen. " How often have I promised (and I never promised hut I intended to preform) that I would be faithfully and only yours! How often declan d, that I did not think I could possibly desenre my Pamela, till I could shew PAMELA. S33 Religious Information of Mr. B. Ler, in my own mind, a purity as nearly equal to hers as my past conduct would admit of ! " But I depended too much upon my own strength : and I am now convinced, that nothing but religious considerations, and a reso- lution to watch over the very first appearances of evil, and to check them as they arise, can be of sufficient weight to keep steady to his good pur- pose a vain young man, too little accustomed to restraint, and too much used to play upon the brink of dangers, from a temerity, and love of intrigue, natural to enterprising minds. " I would not make this declaration of my convictions to you, till I had thoroughly examined myself, and had reason to hope, that I should be enabled to make it good. And now, my Pamela, from this instant, you shall be my guide ; and, only taking care that you do not, all at once, by injunctions too rigorous, damp and discourage the rising (lame, I will leave it to you to direct as you please, till, by degrees, it may be deemed Worthy to mingle with your own." Judge how rapturous my joy was upon this occasion, and how ready 1 was to bless God for a danger (so narrowly escaped) which was attended with the very consequences that I had so long prayed for ; and which I little thought the Divine Providence was bringing about by the very means, that, 1 apprehended, would put an end to all my pleasing hopes and prospects of that nature. It is in vain for me to seek words to express what I felt, and how I acted, on this occasion. I heard him out with twenty different and impa- tient emotions ; and then threw myself at his feet, embracing his knees, with arms the most ardently clasped ! My face lifted up to heaven, and to him, by turns; my eyes overflowing with tears of joy, which half choked up the passage of my words. At last, his kind arms clasping my neck and kissing my tearful cheek, 1 could only say " My ardent prayers are at last heard May Coo Almighty confirm your pious purposes ! And, oh ! what a happy Pamela have you at your feel !" I wept for joy till 1 sobbed again and he raising me to his kind arms, I said- " To have this heavenly prospect, O l;< st beloved of my heart! added to all my earthly blessi ngs ! How sh;tl! I contain my joy! For, oh ! to think that he is, and will be, mine, and I Ins, through the mercies of God, when this transitory life is past and gone, to all eternity ; what a rich thought is this ! Methinks 1 am already, dear Sir, ceasing to be mort;^, arid beginning to taste (he perfection of those joys, which this thrice welcome declaration gives me hope of hereafter! 15ot what shall I sav, obliged as I was bevond expression before, and now doubly obliged in the rapturous view you have opened to me, into a happy fu'urity !" He said, he was delighted with n;e beyond expression; that I was his I ii7 3 i ( 8S4 PAMELA. Arrangements for making the grand Jour. ecstatic charmer! That the love I shewed for his future good was the moving proof of the purity of my heart, and my affection for him. And that very evening he joined with me in my retired duties; and, at all proper opportunities, favours me with his company in the same manner j listening attentively to all my lessons, as he calls my cheerful discourses on serious subjects. And now, my dear parents, do you not rejoice with me in this charm- ' ing, charming appearance ? For, before I had the most generous, the most beneficent, the most noble, the most affectionate, but wow I am likely to have the most pious, of husbands '. What a happy wife, what a happy daughter, is his and your Pamela ! God of his infinite mercy, continue and improve the ravishing prospect ! I was forced to leave off here, to enjoy the charming reflections which this lovely subject, and my blessed prospects, filled ine with ; and now proceed to write a few lines more. 1 am under some concern oti account of our going to travel into some Roman Catholic countries, for fear we should want the public opportuni- ties of divine service : for I presume, the ambassador's chapel will be the only Protestant place of worship allowed of, and Paris the only city in France where there is one. But we must endeavour to make it up in our private and domestic duties : for, as the phrase is " When we are at Rome, we must do as they do at Rome ;" that is to say, so far as not to give offence, on the one hand, to the people we are among ; nor scandal, on the other, by compliances hurtful to one's conscience. But my pro- tector knows all these things so well (no place in what is called the grand tour being new to him) that 1 have no reason to be very uneasy. Ami now let me, by letter, as I did on my knees at parting, beg the continuance of your prayers and blessings, and that God will preserve us to one another, and give us, and all our worthy friends, a happy meeting again. Kent, you may be surr-, will be our first visit, on our return, for your sakes, for my dear Davers's, and my little Pamela's sake, who will be both put into your protection ; while my Billy, and Miss Goodwin (for, since I began this letter, it is so determined) are to be my delightful companions; for Mr. B. declared, his temper wants looking after, and his notices of every thing are strong and significant. Poor little dear! he lias indeed a little sort of perverseness and head- stronguess, as one may say, in his will : yet he is but a baby, and I hope to manage him pretty well ; for he notices all I say, and every look of mine already He is, besides, very good humoured, and willing to part with any thing for a kind word: and this gives me hopes of a docile and benevolent disposition, as he grows uj>. PAMELA. 835 Letter from .\Jis. b. on her Keturu, to i.Hily G. I thought, when I began the last paragraph but one, that I was within a line of concluding ; but it is to you, and if my babies, I am writing ; so shall go on to the bottom of this new sheet, if I do not directly finish : which I do, with assuring you both, that wherever I am, I shall always be thoughtful of you, and remember you in my prayers, as becomes your ever dutiful daughter, P. B. My respects to all your good neighbours in general. Mr. Longman will visit you now and then. Mrs. Jervis will take one journey into Kent, she says, and it shall be to accompany my babies, when carried down to you. Poor Jonathan, and she, good folks! seem declining in their health, which grieves me. Once more, God send us all a happy meeting, if it be his blessed will ! Adieu, adieu, my dear parents ! your ever dutiful, Sfc. LETTER LXXXVII. MY DEAR LADY G. I RECEIVED your last letter at Paris, as we were disposing everything for our return to England, after an absence of near two years ; in which, as I have informed you, from time to time, I have been a great traveller, into Holland, the Netherlands, through 'he most considerable provinces of France, into Italy; and, in our return to Paris again (the principal place of our residence) through several parts of Germany. I told you of the favours and civilities we received at Florence, from the then Countess Dowager of , who, with her humble servant Lord C (that had so assiduously attended her for so many months in Italy) accompanied us from Florence to Inspruck. Her ladyship made that worthy lord happy in about a month after she parted from us, and the noble pair gave u^ an opportunity at Piris, in their way to England, to return some of the civilities which we received from thsm in Italy; and they are now arrived at her ladyship's seat on the Forest. Her lord is exceedingly fond of her, as he well may; for she is one of the most charming ladies in England ; and behaves to him with so much prudence and respect, that they are a> happy n each other as can be wished. And let me just add, that both in Italy and at Pans, Mr. I'.'s demeanour and her ladyship's to one another, was so nobly open, and unaffectedly polite, as well as highly discreet, that neither Ford ( . who had once been jealous of Mr. 14 nor the other party, who bad had a tiuc- tun <>f 'lie same yellow evil, as you know, because of the countess, had so uni' b is a shadow of uneasiness remaining on the occasion. Lor i Divers has hid his health (which hid begun to decline in Eng- land) so .veil, that there was no persuading Lady Uavtrs to return before now ; although J bcgired and prayed I might not have another little :; i : 856 PAMELA. * > ' - i ' ; 1 trttcolurs 1,1 lie Tour. r ' ' =? Frenehm m, for fear they sbeuid, as they grew up, forget, as I pleasantly used to say, the obligations which their parentage lays them under to dearer England. And now, my dearest friend, I have shut up my rambles for my whole life; for three little English folks, and one little Frenchman (but a charm- ing baby as well as the rest, Charley by name) and a near prospect of a further increase, you will say, are family enough to employ all my cares at home. I have told yon, from time to time, although I could not write to you so often as I would, because of our being constantly in motion, what was most worthy of your knowledge relating to every particular, and how happy we all have been in one another. And I have the pleasure to confirm to you what I have often written, that Mr. B. and my Lord and Lady Davers are all that I cculd wish and hope for, with regard to their first duties. We are indeed a happy family, united by the best and most solid ties ! Miss Goodwin is a charming young lady ! I cannot express how much I love her. She is a perfect mistress of the French language, and speaks Italian very prettily! And, as to myself, I have improved so well under my dear tutor's lessons, together with the opportunity of conversing with the politest and most learned gentry of different nations, that I will discourse with you in two or three languages, if you please, when I have the happi- ness to sije you. There's a learned boaster for you, my dear friend ! (if the knowledge of different languages makes me learned.) But I shall bring you a heart as entirely English as ever, for all that ! We landed on Thursday last at Dover, and directed our course to the dear farm-house ; and you can better imagine than I exprtss our meet- ing with my dear father and mother, and my beloved Davers and Pamela, who are charming babies But is not this the language of exery fond mamma ? Miss Goodwin is highly delighted now with my sweet little Pamela, and says, she shall be her sister indeed ! " For, Madam," said she, " Miss is a beauty'. And we see no French beauties like Master Davers and Miss." " Beauty ! my dear," said I ; " what is beauty, if she be not a good girl ? Beauty is but a specious, and, as it may happen, a dangerous recommen- dation, a mere skin-dtep perfection ; and if, as she grows up, she is not as good as Miss Goodwin, she shall be none of my girl." What adds to my pleasure, my dear friend, is to see them both so well got over the smallpox. It has been as happy for them, as it was for their mamma and her Billy, that they had it under so skilful and kind a mana- ger in that distemper, as my dear mother. I wish, if it pleas* Got), it was as happily over with my little pretty Frenchman. PAMELA. 837 jr. --" . . , ' . lmpro i merits by Travelling . Every ><< y is surprised to see what the past two years have uone for Miss Goodwin and my Billy. O my dear friend, they are both of them almost nay, quite, I think, for their years, all that I wish them to be. In order to make them keep their French, which Miss so well speaks, and Billy so prettily prattles, I oblige them, when they are in the nursery, to speak nothing else : hut at table, except on particular occasions, when French may be spoken, they are to speak in English ; that is, when they do speak : for I tell them, that little masters must only ask questions for information, and say " Yes," or " No," till their papas or mammas permit them to speak ; nor little ladies neither, till they are sixteen ; for ' My dear loves," cry I, " you would not speak before you know how ; and knowledge is obtained by hearing, and not by speaking." And setting my Billy on my lap, in Miss's presence " Here," said I, taking an ear in the finger's of each hand, " are two ear?, my Billy;" and then, pointing to his mouth, " but one tongue, my love ; so you must be sure to mind that you hear twice as much as yo-u speak, even when you grow a bigger master than you are now." " You have so many pretty ways to learn onp, Madam," says Miss, now and then, " that it is impossible we should not regard what you say to us !" Several French tutors, when we were abroad, were recommended to Mr. B. But there is oneEugli.h gentleman, now on his travels with young Mr. R. with whom Mr. B. lias agreeil ; and in the mean time, my best friend is pleased to compliment me, that the children will not suffer for want of a tutor, while 1 can take the pains 1 do: which he will have to be too much for me: especially that now, on our return, my Davers and my Pamela are added to my cares. But what mother can take too much pains to cultivate the minds of her children ? If, my dear Lady G. A. were not for these frequent lyings in ! But this is the time of life. Though little did I think, so early, I should have so many careful blessings ! I have as great credit as pleasure from my little family. All our neigh- bours here admire us more and more. You'll excuse my seeming (for it is but seeming; v nity : I lujpe I know bitter than to have it real "Never," says Mrs. Towers, who is still a Single lady, " did I see, before, a lady so much advantaged by her residence in that fantastic nation" [for -lie loves not the French; " who brought home with her in'.ningol ')i r aii'ec- tation !" She says, th it the Trench politeness, and me LnglMi frankness and plainness of heart, appear happily blended in ali we say and do. And she in, ikes me a thousand compliments upon Lord and Lady Davers 's account, who, she would fain persuade me, owe a great deal ot improve- 3 i 3 838 PAMELA. Mr. H. becomes a l'ccr by the Death of his Father. ment (my lord in his conversation, and my lady in her ternperj to living in the same house with us. My Lady Daver.s is exceeding kind and good to me, is always magnify- ing me to every body, and says, she knows not how to live from me ; and that I have been a means of saving half a hundred souls, as well as her dear brother's. On an indisposition of my lord's, at Montpellier, which made h<-r very apprehensive, she declared, that were she to be deprived of his lordship, she would not let us rest till we had conseirted to her living with us ; saying, that we had room enough in Lincolnshire, and she would enlarge the Bedfordshire seat at her own expense. Mr. H. is Mr. H. still ; and that's the best I can say of him ; for I verily think he is more of an ape than ever. His whole head is now French. 'Twas ha /f so before. We had great difficulties with him abroad : his aunt and I endeavouring to give him a.serious and religious turn, we had like to have turned him into a Riman Catholic. For he was much pleased with the shewv part of that religion, and the fine pictures and decorations in the churches ol Italy ; and having got into company with a Dominican at Padua, a Franciscan at Milan, and a Jesuit at Paris, they lay so hard at him, in their turns, that we had like to have lost him to each assailant : so were forced to let him take his own course ; for, his aunt would have it, that he had no other defence from the attacks of persons to make him embrace a faulty religion, than to permit him to continue as he was ; that is to say, to have none at all. So site suspended attempting to prose- lyte the thoughtless creature, till he came to England. I wish her success here : but, I doubt, he will not be a credit to any religion, for a great while. And as he is very desirous to go to London, it will be found, when there, that any fluttering coxcomb will do more to make him one of that class, in an hour, than his aunt's lessons, to make him a good man, in a twelvemonth. " Where much is given, much in required." The con- trary of this, I doubt, is all poor Mr. H. has to trust to. We hue just now heard that his father, who has been long ill, is dead. So now he is a lord indeed! He flutters and starts about most strangely, 1 warrant, and is wholly employed in giving directions as to his mourning equipage. And now there w ill be no holding of him in, I doubt ; except his new title has so much virtue in it, as to make him a wiser and a better man. He will now have a seat in the House of Pt ers of Great Britain ; but I hope, for the nation's sake, he will n;>t rind many more like himself there ! For. to me, that is one of the mo<-t venerable assemblies in the world ; and it appears the more so, since 1 have been abroad ; for an English gentleman i- respected, if he be any thing of a man, above a foreign nobleman ; and an English nobleman above some petty sovereigns. PAMELA. 839 Death of Mrs. Jervis and Jonat'^n. If our travelling gentry duly considered this distinction in their favour, they would, for the honourof their country, as well as for their own credit, behave in a better manner, in their foreign tours, than, I am sorry to say, some of them do. But what can one expect from the unlicked cubs (pardon the term) sent abroad with only stature, to make them look like men, and equipage to attract respect, without one other qualification to enforce it ? Here let me close this, with a few tears, to the memory of my dear Mrs. Jervis, my other mother, my friend, my adviser, my protectress, in my single state; and my faithful second and partaker in the comforts of my higher life, and better fortunes 1 Wiiat would I have given to have been present, as it seems she so ear- nestly wished, to close her dying eyes ! I should have done it with the piety and the concern of a truly affectionate daughter. But that melan- choly happiness was denied to us both ; for, as 1 told you in. the letter on the occasion, the dear good woman (who is now in the possession of her blessed reward, and rejoicing in God's mercies) was no more, when the news reached me, so far off as Heidelburgh, of her last illness and wishes. 1 cannot forbear, every time I enter her parlour (where I used to see, with so much delight, the good woman sitting, always employed in some useful or pious work) shedding a tear to her memory; and in my Sabbath duties, missing her, I miss half a dozen friends, nn-tbinks ; and I sigh in remembrance of her ; and can only recover that cheerful frame, which the performance of those duties always gave me, by reflecting, that she is now reaping the reward of that sincere piety, which used to edify and encourage us all. The servants we brought home, and those we left behind, melt in tears at the name of Mrs. Jervis. Mr. Longman, too, lamented the loss of her in the most moving strain. And all I can do now, in honour of her memory atrtl her merit, is to be a friend to those she loved most, as I have already begun to be, and none of them shall suffer in those concerns that can be answered, now she is gone, for the lo^s of so excellent a friend and relation is loss enough to all who knew her, and claimed kindred with her. Poor worthy Jonathan too ('tis almost a misery to have so soft, ,o sus- ceptible a heart as I hive, or to have such good servants and friends a* one cannot lose without such emotions as 1 feel for the lose of them !) his silver hairs, which I have beheld with so much delight, and thought I had a father in presence, when I saw them adorning s<> honest arid comely a face, are now laid low! Forgive me, he was not a common servant: neither are any of ours so : but Jonathan excelled all that excelled in his class ! I am told, that these two worthy folks died w ithin two days of one 3 i 1 840 PAMELA. Mrs l> 's li-i(\i,ine>s in liei Fsnily another; on winch occasion I cou'd not help saying to myself, in the words of David over Sml and his son Jonathan, the name-sake of our worthy butler" Thiy were loiw-servant love another in my maiden state, nor servant love a mistress in my exalted condition, better than Jonathan loved me! I could see in his eyes a glistening pleasure, whenever I passed by hiui : if at such times 1 spoke to him, as I seldom failed to do, with a " God bless you, too .'" in answer to his repeated blessings, he had a kind of rejuvenescence (may 1 say ?J visibly running through his whole frame : and, now and then, if J laid my hands upon his folded ones, as I passed him on a Sunday morning or evening, praying for me, with a" How do you, my worthy old acquaintance ?" his heart would spring to his lips in a kii d of rapture, and his eyes would run over. O n.y beloved friend! how the loss of these two worthies of my family oppresses me at times! Mr. B likewise shewed a generous concern on the occasion : and when all he servants welcomed us in a body, on our return " Me.thinks, my dear," said he, " I miss your Mrs. Jervis, and honest Jonathan." A starting tear, anc'. " They are happy, dear honest souls !" and a sitfh, were the tribute I paid to their memories, on their beloved master's so kindly repeating their names. Who knows, had I been hert - But away, too painful reflections They lived to a good old age, and fell like fruit fully ripe : they died the death of the righteous ; I must follow them in time, God knows how soon: and, Oh! that n>y /utter end may be like theirs. Once more, forgive me, my dear friend, this small tribute to their memories : and believe, that I am not so ungrateful for God's mercies, as to let the loss of these dear good folks lessen with me the joy and the delight I have still left me, in the bealth and the love of the best of hus- bands and good men ; in the children, charming as ever mother could boast of charming, I mean principally, in the dawning beauties of their minds, and in the pleasure their towardlintss of nature gives me ; inclu ding, as I always do, my dear Miss Goodwin, and have reason to do, from her dutiful love for me, and observation of all I say to her; in the pre- servation to me of the best and worthiest of parents, hearty, though aged as they are ; in the love and friendship of good Lord and Lady Davers, and my excellent friend Lady G. ; not forgetting even worthy Mr Long- man. God preserve all these to me, as 1 am truly thankful for his mer- cies ! And then, notwithstanding my affecting losses, as above, who will be so happy as 1 ? That you, my dear Lady G. way long continue so, likewise Pamela: S4i Foolifh lariMt^ <>' i^ord II. in the love ot a worthy husband, and ib** delights of an increasing hopeful family, which will make you s>me amends for the heavy losses you also have sustained, in the two last years, of an affectionate father, and a most worthy mother, and in Mr*. Jones of a good neighbour, prays your ever afftctionate friend and servant, P. B. LETTER LXXXVIII. MY BELOVED LADY G. YOU will excuse my long silence, when I shall tell you the occasions of it. In the first place, 1 was obliged to pay a dutiful visit to Kent, where my good father was taken ill of a fever, and my mother of an ague ; and think, Madam, how this must affect me, at their time of life ? Mr. B. kindly accompanied me, apprehending that his presence would be neee-sary, if the recovery of them both, in which I thankfully rejoice, bad not happened ; especially as a circumstance 1 am, I think, always in, addrd more weight to his apprehensions. I had hardly returned from Kent to Bedfordshire, and looked around, when I was obliged to set out to attend Lady Davers, who said she should die, if she saw me not, to comfort and recover, by my counsel and presence (so she was pleased to express herself) her sick lord, who had just got out of an intermittent fever, which left h ; m without any spirit, and was occa- sioned by fretting at the conduct of her stupnourabIe J >hn" (J cV ey they should have said) "L>rdH. nephew to the Right Honourable Willi ini Lord Davers, was married to the Honourable Mrs. P. relict of J. 1'. of Twickenham, Esq. a ladv of celebrated beauty and ample fortune. Now, you must know, that this celebrated lady is, 'tis true, of the family, winner her title of honourablt ; hut is indeed so celebrated, that every fluttering coxcomb in town can give some account of her, even before she was in keeping of the Duke of , who bad cast her on the town be had robbed ol her. In short, she is quite a common woman ; has no fortune at all, as one ni.'iv say, only \ small jointure incumbered ; and is much in debt. She is a sbn w into the bargain, and the poor wretch is a father already ; for he has bad a :. r irl of three years old (her husband has been dead seven brought him home, which he knew nothing of, nor even enquired, whether his widow bad a child! And he is now paying the mother's debts, and tr\ing to make the best of bis bargain. This is the fruit of a London journey, so long desired by him, and his iuttering about there with his new title. 343 PAMELA. Letter from L<" H. o Lord Davers. He was drawn in by a brother of bis lady, and a friend of that brother's, two town sharpers, gamesters, and bullies. Poor Sir Joseph Wittol ! This was his case, and his character, it seems, in London. Shall I present you with a curiosity ! 'Tis a copy of his letter to his uncle, who had, as you may well think, lost all patience with him, on occasion of this abominable folly. " MY LORD DAVERS, " For iff you will not call me neffew, I have no reason to call you unkell ; surely you forgett who it was you held up youre kane to : 1 have as little reason to valew your displeasure, as you have me ; for I am, God be thanked, a lord and a pere of the realme, as well as you ; and as to youre not owening me, nor youre brother B. not looking upon me, I care not a fardinge : and, bad as you think I have done, I have marry'd a woman of family. Take that among you ! As to youre personal abuses of her, take care whatt you say. You know the stattute will defend us as well as you And, besides, she has a brother thatt won't lett her good name be called in question Mind thatt! " Some thinges I wish had been otherwise; perhapps I do What then ? Must you, my lord, make more mischief, and adde to my plagues, iff I have any ? Is this your unkel-ship ? " Butt I shan't want your advice. I have as good an estate as yon have, and am as much a lord as yourselfe. Why the duce then, am I to be treated as I am ? Why the plague But I won't sware neither. I desire not to sec you, any more than you doe me, I can tell you thatt. And iff we ever meet under one roofe with my likeing, it must be at the House of Peeres, where 1 shall be upon a parr with you in every thing, that's my cumfurte. " As to Lady Davers, I desire not to see her ladyship ; for she was always plaguy nimbel with her fingers ; butt, lett my false stepp be whatt itt will, I have in other respectes marry'd a lady who is as well descended as herselfe, and no disparagement neither ; so have nott thatt to answer for to her pride ; and who has as good a spiritt too, iff they were to come face to face, or I am mistaken : nor will shee take affruntes from any one. So my lord, leave mee to make the best of my matters, as I will of youres. So, no more, but that I am youre seruante, H. " P. S. I mean no affrunte to Mrs. B. She is the best of yee all." I will not take up your time with further observations upon this poor creature's bad conduct: his .reflection must proceed from feeling ; and will, that's the worst of it, come too late, come when or how it will. I will only say, I am sorry for it on his own account, but more for that of Lord and Lady Davers, who take the matter xery heavily, and wish he had PAMELA. 843 A fourth Son born. married the lowest bom creature in England (so she had been honest and virtuous) rather than done as he has done. But, I suppose, the poor gentleman was resolved to shun, at all adven- tures, Mr. B.'s fault, and keep up to the pride of descent and family ; and so married the only creature, as I hope (since it cannot be helped) that is so great a disgrace to both : for I presume to flatter myself, for the sake of my sex, that, among the poor wretches, who are sunk so low as the town- women are, there are very few of birth or education; but such,' prin- cipally, as have had their necessities or their ignorance taken advantage of by base men ; since birth and education must needs set the most unhappy of the sex above so sordid and so abandoned a guilt, as the hourly wickedness of ^ucb a course of life subjects them to. But let me pursue my purpose of excusing my long silence. 1 had hardly returned from Lady Davers's, and recovered my family manage- ment, and resumed my nursery duties, when my fourth dear boy. my Jem- my (for, I think, I atn going on to make out the number Lady Davers allotted me) pressed so upon me, as not to be refused, for one month or six weeks close attention. And then a journey to Lord Davers's, and that noble pair accompanying us to Kent ; and daily and hourly pleasures crowding upon us, narrow and confined as our room there was (though we went with as few attendants as possible) engrossed more of my time Thus I hope you will forgive me, because, as soon as I returned, I set about writing this, as an excuse for myself, in the first place ; to promise you the subject you insist upon, in the next ; and to say, thai I am inca- pable of for^etfulness or negligence to such a friend as Lady G. For I must always be your faith) ul and affectionate humble servant, P. B. LETTER LXXXIX. MY DEAR LADY G. THE remarks your cousin Fielding says I have made on the subject of young gentlemen's travelling, and which you request me to commu- nicate to you, are p,trt of a little bonk upon education, which I wrote for Mr. B.'s correction and amendment, on his putting Mr. Locke's trea- tise on that subject into my hands, and requiring my observations upon it. I cannot flatter myself they will answer your expectation ; lor I am sensible they must be unworthy even of the opportunities I have had in the excursion', in which I have been indulged by the best of men. But your requests are so many laws tome ; and I will give you a short ahst ract of what I re. id to Miss Fielding, who lias so greatly overrated it to you. The gentleman's hook contains many excellent rules on education; but this of travel I will only refer you to at present. You will there see bis objections against the age at which young gentlemen are *ent abroad, 844 PAMELA. Observations orrforeign And heme Travelling. from sixteen to twenty-one, the time in all their lives, he says, in which young: men are the least suited to these improvements, and in which they have the least fence and guard against their passions. The age he proposes is from seven to fourteen, becanse of the advan- tage they will then have to master foreign languages, and to form their tongue to the true pronunciation ; as well as that then they will be more easily directed by their tutors or governors. Or -lse he proposes that more sedate time of life, when the gentleman is able to travel with- out a tutor, and to make his own observations ; and when he is thoroughly acquainted with the laws and fashions, the natural and moral advantages and dtfects of his own country; by which means, as Mr. Locke Wisely .observes, the traveller will have something to exchange with those abroad, from whose conversation he hopes to reap any knowledge. And he sup- ports his opinion by excellent reasons, to which I refer you. What I have written in my little book, not yet quite finished, on this head, relates principally to home travelling-, which Mr. B. was always resolved his sons should undertake before they en'ered upon :i foreign tonr. I have there observed, that England abounds with curiosities, both of art and nature, worth the notice of a diligent enquirer, and equal with some of those we admire in foreign parts; and that if the youth be not sent abr ad at Mr. Locke's earliest time, from seven ta fourteen (which I can hardly think will be worth while, merely for the sake of attaining a perfection in the languages) he may with good advantage begin, at four- teen or fifteen, the tour of Great Britain, now aid then, by excursions in the summer months, between his other studies, and as a diversion to him. This I should wish might be entered upon in his papa's company, as well as his tutor's, if it could conveniently be done ; who thus initiating both the governed and governor in the methods he would have observed by both, will obtain no small satisfaction and amusement to himself. For the father would by this means be an eye-witBess of the behaviour of the one and the other, and have a specimen how fit the young man was to be trusted, or the tutor to be depended upon, when they went abroad, and were out of his sight ; as they would of what was expected from them by the father. And hence a thousand benefits may arise to the young gentleman from the occasional observations and reflections of his father, with regard to expense, company, conversation, hours, and such like. If the father could not himself accompany his son, he might appoint the stages the young -gentleman should take, and enjoin both tutor and son to give, at every stage, an account of whatever they observed curious and remarkable, not omitting the minutest occurrences. By this means, and the probability that he might hear of them, and their proceedings, PAMELA. 845 Observations on foreign and home Travelling. from his friends, acquaintance, and relations, who might fall ia with them, they would have a greater regard to their conduct ; and so much the more, if the young gentleman were to keep an account of his expenses, which, upon his return, he might lay before his father. By seeing thus the different customs, manners, and economy of dif- ferent families (for in so mixed a nation as ours is, there is as grpat a variety of that sort to be met with as in most) and from their different treatment at their several stages, a great- deal of the world may be learned by the young gentleman. He would be prepared to go abroad with more delight to himself as well as more experience, and greater reputation to his family and country. In such excursions as these the tutor would see his temper and inclination, and might notice to the father any thing amiss, that it might be set right while the youth was yet in his reach, and more under his inspection than he would be in a foreign country ; and his observations, on his return, as well as in his letters, would shew how fit he was to be trusted ; and how likely to improve, when at a greater distance. After England and Wales, as well the inland parts as the sea-coasts, let tbent, if they behave according to expectation, take a journey into Scotlandand Ireland, and visit the principal islands, as Guernsey, Jersey, &c. the youth continuing to write down his observations all the way, and keeping a journal of occurrences ; and let him employ the little time he will be on board of ship, in these small trips from island to island, or coast- wise, in observing upon the noble art of navigation ; of the theory of which, it will not be amiss that he has some notion, as well as of the curious structure of a ship, its tackle, and furniture : a knowledge very far from being insignificant to a gentleman who is an islander, and has a stake in the greatest maritime kingdom in the world ; and hence he will be taught to love and value that most useful and brave set of men, the British sailors, who arc the natural defence and glory of the realm. Hereby he will confirm his theory of the geography of the Briti-h dominions in Europe, he will be apprised of the situation, conveniences, interests, and constitution of his own country ; and will be able to lay a ground-work for the future government of his thoughts and actions, if the interest he bears in his native country should call him \o the public service in either bouse of parliament. With this foundation, how excellently would he be qualified to go abroad ! anil how properly then would be add to the knowledge he had attained of his own country, that of the different customs, manners, and forms of government of others ! How would he be able to form comparisons, and to make all his inquiries appear pertinent and manly. All the occasions of that ignorant wonder, which renders a novice thejeit of all about hiui_. S46 PAMELA. Observations on foreign and home Travelling. would be taken away. He would be able to ask questions, and to judge without leading-strings. Nor would lie think he has seen a country, and answered the ends of his father's expense, and his own improvement, by running through a kingdom, and knowing nothing of it but the inns and stages at which he stopped to eat and drink. For, on the contrary, he would make the best acquaintance, and contract worthy friendships with such as would court and reverence him as one of the rising geniuses of his country. Whereas most of the young gentlemen who are sent abroad raw and unprepared, as if to wonder at every thing they see, and to be laughed at by all that see them, do but expose themselves and their country. And if, at their return, by interest of friends, by alliances or marriages, they should happen to be promoted to places of honour or profit, their unmerited preferment will only serve to make those foreigners, who were eye-wit- nesses of their weakness and follies, when among them, conclude greatly in disfavour of the whole nation, or, at least, of the prince, and his admi- nistration, who could find no fitter subjects to distinguish. This, my dear friend, is a brief extract from my observations on the head of qualifying young gentlemen to travel wjth honour and improvement. I doubt you'll be apt to think me a little out of my element ; but since you would have it, Iclaim the allowances of a friend ; to which my ready compliance with your commands the rather entitles me. I am very sorry Mr. and Mrs. Murray are so unhappy in each other. Were he a generous man, the heavy loss the poor lady has sustained, a? well as her sister, my beloved friend, in so excellent a mother, and so kind a father, would make him bear with her infirmities a little. But, really, I have seen, on twenty occasions, that, notwithstanding all the fine things gentlemen say to ladies before marriage, if the latter do not improve upon their husbands' hands, their imputed graces, when single, will not protect them from indifference, and, probably, from worse ; while the gentleman, perhaps, thinks he only, of the two, is entitled to go backward in acts of kindness and complaisance. A strange and shock- ing difference which too many ladies experience, who, from fond lovers, prostrate at their feet, find surly husbands, trampling upon their necks ! You, my dear friend, were happy in your days of courtship, and are no less so in your state of wedlock. And may you continue to be so to a good old age, prays your affectionate and fathj ul friend, P. B. LETTER XC. MY DEAR LADY . I WILL cheerfully cause to be transcribed for you the conversation you desire, between myself, Mrs. Towers, and Lady Arthur, and the 'hree young ladies their relations, in presence of the dean and his daughter, and PAMELA. 84? Minutes ot a former Conversation. Mrs. Brooks ; and glad I shall be, if it may be of use to the two thought- less misses your neighbours ; who, you are pleased to tell me, are great admirers of my story and my example ; and will therefore, as you say, pay greater attention to what I ^v rite, than to the more passionate and inte- rested lessons of their mamma. I will inclose it when done, that it may be read to the parties without this introduction, if you think fit. And you will forgive me for having added a few observations, with a view to the cases of your inconsiderate young ladies, and for having corrected the former narrative in several places. MY DEAR LADY G. The papers you have mislaid, as to the conversation between me and the young ladies, relations of Mrs. Towers, and Lady Anne Arthur, in presence of these two last named ladies, Mrs. Brooks, and the worthy dean, and Miss L. (of which, in order to perfect your kind collection of my communications you request another copy) contained as follows. I first stated, that 1 had seen these three ladies twice or thrice before, as visitors, at their kinswomen's houses : so that they and I were not altogether strangers to one another : and my two neighbours acquainted me with their respective tastes and dispositions, and their histories pre- paratory to this visit, to the following effect : That Miss Stapylton is over-run with the love of poetry and romance, and delights in flowery language and metaphorical flourishes : is about eighteen, wants not either sense or politeness ; and has read herself into a vein, more amorous (that was Mrs. Towers's word; than discreet. Has extraordinary notions of a. first sight love ; and gives herself great liberties, with a pair of tine < yes (in hopes to make sodden conquest* in pursuance of that notion > than is pretty in her sex and age ; which makes those who know her not conclude her bold and forward ; and is more than suspected, with a mind thus prepared for instantaneous impressions, to have expe- rienced the argument to her own disadvantage, and to be struck by (before she had stricken) a gentleman, whom her friends think not at all worthy of her, and to whom she was making some indiscreet advances, under the name of I'hiloelea to Philoxenus, in a letter which she entrusted to a servant of the family, who, discovering her design, prevented her indis- cretion for that time. That in other respects she has no mean accomplishment";, will have a fine fortune, is genteel in her person, though with some visible- affectation, dances well, iugs well, and plays prettily on several instruments ; is fond of reading, but affects the action, and air, and attitude of a tragedian ; and is too apt to give an emphasis in the wrong place, in order to make an author mean significantly, even where the occasion is common, and, 848 PAMELA. in a mere historical tact, that requires as much simplicity in the reader's accent, as in the writer's style. No wonder then, that when she reads a play, she will put herself into a sweat, as Mrs. Towers says ; distorting very agreeable features, and making a multitude of wiy mouths with one very pretty one, in order to convince her hearers what a near neighbour her heart is to her lips. Miss Cope is a young lady of nineteen, lovely in her person, with a haudsome fortune in possession, and great prospects. Has a soft and gentle turn of mine Iters, that it is fus province to ask a favour, which it will be her duty to deny." 3 K 3 854 PAMELA. - v ' Caution against Credulity in Love. " I believe, Madam, I spoke these words a little too carelessly ; hut I meant honourable questions, to be sure." *' There can be but one honourable question," replied I ; " and that is seldom asked, but when the affair is brought near a conclusion, and there is a probability of its being granted ; and which a single lady, while she has parents or guardians, should never think of permitting to be put to herself, much less of approving, nor, perhaps, as the case may be, of denying. But I make no doubt that you meant honourable questions. A young lady of Miss Sutton's good sense, and worthy character, cou Id not mean otherwise. And I have said, perhaps, more than I need upon this Subject, because we all know how ready the presuming of the other sex are, right or wrong, to construe the most innocent meetings in favour of their own views.'* Very true'* said she ; but appeared to be under an agreeable eon- fusion, svery lady, by her eye, seeming to think she had met with a de- served rebuke ; and which not seeming to expect, it abated her liveliness all the time after. Mrs. Towers seasonably relieved us both from a subject too applicable, if I may so express if, saying" But, dear Mrs. B. will you favour us with the result of your meditation, if committed to writing, on the unhappy case you mentioned ?" " I was rather, Madam, exercising my fancy than my judgment, such as it is, upon the occasion. I was aiming at a kind of allegorical or metaphorical style, I know not which to call it ; and it is not fit to be read before such judges, I doubt." " O pray, dear Midam," said Miss Stapylton, " favour us with it to choose ; for I am a great admirer of that style." " I have a great curiosity," said Lady Arthur, " both from the subject and the style, to hear What you have written : and I beg you will oblige us all." " It is short and unfinished. It was written for the sake of a friend, who is fond of such a style ; and what I shall add to it, will be principally some slight observations upon this way of writing. But, let it be ever so censurable, I should be more so, if I made any difficulties after such an unanimous request." So, taking it out of my letter-case, I read as follows : " While the banks of discretion keep the proud waters of passion within their natural channel, all calm and serene glides along the silver current, enlivening the adjacent meadows, as it passes, with a brighter and more flowery verdure. But if the torrents of sensual love are permitted to descend from the hills of credulous hope, they may so swell the gentle stream, as to make it difficult, if not impossible, to be retained betwixt PAMELA. 856 Caution against Credulity in Love. its usual bounds. What then will be the consequence ? Why, the trees of resolution, anil the shrubs of cautious fear, which grew upon the frail mound, and whose intertwining roots had contributed to support it, being loosened froui their hold, they, and all that would swim of the hank itself, will be seen floating on the surface of the triumphant waters. " But here, a dear lady, having unhappily failed, is enabled to set her foot in the new-made breach, while yet it is possible to stop it, and to say, with little variation, in the language of that power, which only could enable her to say it, Hit her, ye proud waves of dissolute lore, although you have come, yet no farther shall ye come; is such an instance of magna- nimous resolution atid self-conquest, as is very rarely to be met with." Miss StapUton seemed pleased (as I expected) and told me, that she should take it for a high favour, to be permitted, if not improper, to see the whole letter when finished. I said, I would oblige her with all my heart. " But you must not expect, Madam, that although I have written what I have read to you, I shall approve of it in my observations upon it ; for I am convinced, that no style can be proper, which is not plain, simple, easy, natural, and unaffected." She was sure, she was pleased to say, that whatever my observations were, they would be equally just and instructive. " I too," said the dean, " will answer for that ; for I dare say, by what I h*ve already heard, that Mrs. B. will distinguish properly between the tyle (and the matter too) which captivates the imagination, and that which informs the judgment." Our conversation, after this, took a more general turn ; which I thought right, lest the young ladies should imagine it was a designed thing against them: yet it was such, that every one of them found her character and taste, little or much, concerned in it ; and all seemed, as Mrs. Towera afterwards observed to me, by their silence and attention, to be buiied in private applications. The dean, to renew the subject of credulity, repeated my remark, that it w,ts safer, in cases where so much depended upon the issue, as a lady' honour and reputation, to fear an enemy, than to hope a friend ; and praised my observation, that even a weak enemy is not to be too much despised. I said, I bad very high notions of the honour and value of my own sex, and very mean ones of the gay and frothy part of the other; insomuch, that I thought they could have no strength, but what was founded in our weakness: that the difference of education must give men advantages, even where the genius is naturally equal ; besides, they have generally morn hardness of heart, which makes women, where they meet not with 3*4 P5 PAMELA. I -am ion against Crednlitj !n T nvo. ' ' , ..i i n .i .it- me'i of lui-.'tir, engage with that sex upon very unequal terms ; for that it is. so customary with them to make vows and promises, and to set light b\ 'hem, when made, that an innocent lady cannot guard too watchfully against them ; and, in my opinion, should believe nothing they said, or eve.i vowed, but what carried demonstration with it. " T remember my lady used often to observe, there is a time of life in all young persons which may properly be called the romantic, which is a very dangerous period, and requires therefore a great guard of prudence ; that the rick, is not a littie augmented by reading novels and romances ; and the poetical tribe have much to answer for, by reason of their height- ened and inflaming descriptions, which do much hurt to thoughtless minds, and lively imaginations. For to those, she would have it, are prin- cipally owing the rashness and indiscretion ofsqf't and tender dispositions : which, in breach of, their duty, and even to the disgrace of their sex, too frequently set them upon enterprises, like those they have read in thqse pernicious writing's, which not seldom make them fall a sacrifice to the b?.se designs of some wild intriguer; and even in cases where their preci- pitation ends the best, th-u is to say, in marriage, they too frequently (in direct opposition to the cautions and commands of their tried, their experienced, and unquestionable friends) throw themselves upon an almost stranger, who, had lie been worthy of them, would not, nor needed to have taken indirect methods to obtain their favour. " And the misfortune is, the most innocent are generally the most cre- dulous. Such a lady would do no harm to others, and cannot think others would do her any. And as to the particular person who has obtained, perhaps, a share in her confidence, he cannot, she thinks, be so ungrate- ful, as to return irreparable mischief for her good will to him. Were all the men in the world besides to prove false, the beloved person cannot. 'Twould be unjust to her own merit, as well as to his views, to suppose it: and so design on his side, and credulity and self-opinion on the lady's, at las' enrol the unhappy believer in the list of the too-late repenters." " And what, Madam," said the dean, " has not that wretch to answer for, who makes sport of destroying a virtuous character, and in being the wieked means of throwing, perhaps, upon the town, and into the dregs of prostitution, a poi.r creature, whose love for him, and confidence in him, was all her prime ? and who otherwise might have made a worthy figure .at the head of a reputable family, and so have been an useful member Of the commonwealth, propagating good examples, instead of ruin and luf.imy, to mankind ? To say nothing of what is still worse, the dreadful crime o r occasioning the loss of a oui ; since final impenitence too gene- rallv follows the first sacrifice which the poor wretch is seduced to make f her honour ?" PAMELA. 857 Cnstion against Credulity in T-ov. " There are several gentlemen in our neighbourhood," said Mrs. Brooks, "who might he benefited ty this touching reflection, if represented in the same strong lights from the pulpit. And I think, Mr. Dean, you should give us a sermon upon this subject, for the sake of both sexes, one for caution, the other for conviction." " I will think of it," replied he; " but I am sorry to say, that we have too many among our younger gentry who would think themselves pointed at, were I to touch this subject ever so cautiously." '* 1 am sure," said Mrs. Towers, " there cannot well be a more useful one ; and the very reason the dean gives is a convincing proof of it to me." " When I have had the pleasure of hearing the further sentiments of uch aii assembly as this, upon the delicate subject," replied this polite div^n . " I shall be better enabled to treat it. And pray, ladies, proceed; for it is from your conversation that I must take my hints." " You Lave only, then," said Mrs. Towers, " to engage Mrs. B. to speak, and you tnay be sure we will all be as attentive to her, as we shall be to t/ntc, when we have the pleasure to hear so fine a genius improving upon her hints, from the pulpit." I bowed to Mrs. Towers ; and knowing she praised me, with the dean's view, in order to induce the young ladies to give the greater attention to what she wished me to speak, I said, it would be a great presumption in me, after so hii,h a compliment, to open my lips : nevertheless, as I was sure, by speaking, I should have the benefit of instruction, whenever it made them speak, 1 would not be backward to enter upon any subject ; for that I should consider myself as a young nouns* 1, in some great cause, who served but to open it and prepare the way tor those of greater skill and abilities." " 1 beg, then, Madam," said Miss Stapylton, " you will open the crtvse, be the subject what it will. And I could almost wi-h, that re had ns many gentlemen here as ladies, who would lave jea=oH 'lit athamed of the liberties they take in censuring the convei ntiiin^ of the tea -table ; since the pulpit, as the worthy dean gives us rea-;o;i to Lope, may lie beholden to thai of Mr. B." " Nor is it much wonder," replied I, " when the dean himself is with us, and it is graced by so distinguished a circle." ' If many of fiur young gentlemen were here," said Mr-. T >wers, *' they mi^ht improve themselves in all tor graces of polite and sincere complai-ance. But, compared to this, I have generally heard such trite and coarse stuff from our rare of would be wits, that what they say may be compared to the fawuings and salutations of the ass in the fable, who, emulating the lap dog, merited a cudgel rather than encouragement. 858 PAMELA. Caution against Credulity in I.ove. " But, Mrs. B." continued she, * begin, I pray you, to of en and proceed in the cause ; for there will be no counsel employed but you, I can tell you." " Then give me a subject that will suit me, ladies, and you shall see how my obedience to your commands will make me run on." " Will you, Madam," said Miss Stapylton, " give us a few cautions and instructions on a theme of your own, that a young lady should rathery^ar too much than hope too much? A necessary doctrine, perhaps; but a difficult one to be practised by one who has begun to love, and who sup- poses all truth and honour in the object of her favour." " Hope, Madam," said I, " in my opinion, should never be unaccom- panied by fear ; and the more reason will a lady ever have to fear, and to suspect herself, and doubt her lover, when she once begins to find it! her own breast an inclination to him. For then her danger is doubled, since she has herself (perhaps the more dangerous enemy of the two) to guard against, as well as him. " She may secretly wish the best indeed : but what has been the fate of others may be her own ; and though she thinks it not probable, from such a faithful protester, as he appears to her to be, yet, while it is possible, she should never be off her guard : nor will a prudent woman trust to his mercy or honour; but to her own discretion: and the rather, because, if he mean well, he himself will value her the more for her caution, since every man desires to have a virtuous and prudent wife ; if not well, she will detect him the sooner, and so, by her prudence, frustrate all his base designs. " But let me, my dear ladies, ask, what that passion is, which generally we dignify by the name of love ; and which, when so dignified, puts us upon a thousand extravagances ? I believe, if examined into, it would be found too generally to owe its original to ungoverned fancy , and were we to judge of it by the consequences that usually attend it, it ought rather to be called rashness, inconsideration, weakness, any thing but love; for very seldom, I doubt, is the solid judgment so much concerned in it, as the airy fancy. But when once we dignify the wild misleader with the name of love, all the absurdities which we read in novels and romances take place, and we are induced to follow examples that seldom end happily but in them. " But, permit me further to observe, that love, as we call it, operates differently in the two sexes, as to its effects. For in woman it is a creep- ing thing, in a man an incroacher ; and this ought, in my humble opinion, to be very seriously attended to. Miss Sutton intimated thus much, when she observed that it was the man's province to ask, the lady's to deny : excuse me, Madam, the observation was just, as to the men's notions; PAMELA. 859 Caution again*! Credulity in Love. although, met h inks, I would not have a lady allow of it, except in cases of caution to themselves. " The doubt, therefore, which a lad)- has of her lover's honour, is need- ful to preserve her own and his too. And if she does him wrong, and he should be too just to deceive her, she can make him amends, by instances of greater confidence, when she pleases. But if she has been accustomed to grant him little favours, can she easily recal them ? And will not the incroacher grow upon her indulgence, pleading for a favour to-day, which was not refused him yesterday, and reproaching her want of confidence, as a want of esteem ; till the poor lady, who, perhaps, has given way to this creeping, insinuating passion, and has avowed her esteem 1o him, puts herself too much in his power, in order to manifest, as she thinks, the generosity of her affection ; and so, by degrees, is carried farther than she intended, or nice honour ought to have permitted ; and all, because, to keep up to my theme, she hopes too much, and dovbls too little ? And there have been cases, where a man himself, pursuing the dictates of his incroaching passion, and finding a lady too conceding, has taken advan- tages, of which, probably, at first he did not presume to think." Miss Stapylton said, that virtue itself spoke when /spoke ; and she was resolved to recollect as much of this conversation as she could, and write it down in her common-place book, where it would make a better figure than any thing she had there: " 1 suppose, Miss," said Mrs. Towers, "your chief collections are flow- ers of rhetoric, picked up from the French and English poets, and novel writers. I would give something for the pleasure of having it two hours in my possession." Fie, Madam," replied she, a little abashed, " how can you expose your kinswoman thus, before the dean and Mrs. B. ?" " Mrs. Towers," said I, " only says this to provoke you to shew your collections. I wis>h I had the pleasure of seeing them. I doubt not but your common-place book is a store-house of wisdom." " There is nothing bad in it, 1 hope," replied she : " hut I would not, that Mrs. B. should see it for the world. But, Madam" (to Mrs. Towers) " there are many beautiful things, and good instructions, to be collected from novels and plays, and romances ; and from the poetical writers par- ticularly, light as you are pleased to make of them. Pray, Madam" (to me) " have you ever been at all conversant in such writers *" " Not a great deal in the former : there were very few novels and romances that my lady would permit me to read ; and those I did, gavt me no great pleasure ; for either they dealt so much in the marvellous and improbable, or were so unnaturally inflaming to the passions, and so full of love and intrigue, that most of them seemed calculated to fire the imagi- 860 PAMELA. " ' . ' ..* ' /,,= . Caution against first-Big! t Love. nation, rather than to inform the judgment. Tiits and tournaments, breaking of spears in honour of a mistress, engaging with monsters, rambling in search of adventures, making unnatural difficulties, in order to shew the knight-errant's prowess in overcoming them, is all that is required to constitute the hero in such pieces. And what principally distinguishes the character of the heroine is, when she is taught to consider her father's house as an enchanted castle, and her lover as the hero who is to dissolve tht charm, and to set at lib^rtv from one confinement, in order to put her into another, and, too probably, a worse : to instruct her how to climb walls, leap precipices, and do twenty other extravagant things, in order to shew the mad strength of a passion she ought to be ashamed of: to make parents and guardians pass for tyrants, the voice of reason to be drowned in that of indiscreet love, which exalts the other sex, and debases her own. And what is the instruction that can'be gathered from such pieces, for the conduct of common life ? " Then have I been ready to quarrel with these writers for another reason ; and that is, the dangerous notion which they hardly ever fail to propagate, of & first- sight love. For there is such a susceptibility supposed on both sides (which, however it may pass in a man, very little becomes the female delicacy) that they are smitten with a glance : the fictitious blind god is made a real divinity : and too often prudence and discretion are the first offerings at his shrine." " I believe, Madam," said Miss Stapylton, blushing, and playing with her fan, " there have been many instances of people's laving at first sight, which have ended very happily." " No doubt of it," replied I. "But there are three chances to one, that so precipitate a liking does not. For where can be the room for caution, inquiry, the display of merit and sincerity, and even the assurance of a grateful return, to a lady, who thus suffers herself to be prepossessed ? Is it not a random shot ? Is it not a proof of weakness ? Is it not giving up the negative voice, which belongs to the sex, even while she is not sure of meeting with the affirmative one from him whose affection she wishes to engage ? " Indeed, ladies," continued I, " I cannot help concluding (and I am the less afraid of speaking my mind, because of the opinion I have of the prudence of every lady that hears me) that where this weakness is found, it is no way favourable to a lady's character, nor to that discretion which ought to distinguish it. It looks to me, as if a lady's heart were too much in the power of her eye, and that she had permitted her fancy to be much more busy than her judgment.'' Miss Stapylton blushed, and looked around her. " But I observe," said Mrs. Towers, " whenever you censure any indis- PAMELA. 8(51 Caution ag.tinst first-sight Love. cretion, you seldom fail to give cautions how to avoid it ; and pray let us know what is to be done in this ease ? That is to say, bow a young lady ought to guard against and overcome the first favourable impressions ?" " What I imagine," replied I, " a young laily ought to do, on any the least favourable impression of the kind, is immediately to withdraw into her- self, as one may say ; to reflect upon what she owes to her parents, to her family, to her character, and to her sex ; and to resolve to check such a random prepossession, which may much more probably, as I hinted, make her a"prey to the undeserving than otherwise, as there are so many of that character to one man of real merit. " The most that I apprehend a Jirst-sight approbation can do, is to in- spire a liking ; and a liking is conquerable, if the person will not brood over it, till she hatches it into love. Then every man and woman has a black and a white side ; and it is easy to set the imperfections of the per- son against the supposed perfections, while it is only a liking. But if the busy fancy be permitted to work as it pleases, uncontroled, then 'tis very likely, were the lady but to keep herself in countenance for receiving first impressions, she will see perfections in the object, which no other living soul can. And it may be expected that as a consequence of her first in* discretion, she will confirm, as an act of judgment, what her wild and ungoverned fancy had misled her to think of with so much partial favour. And too late, as it probably may happen, she will see and lament her fatal, and, perhaps, undutiful error. " We are talking of the ladies only," added I (for I saw Miss Stapylton was become very grave) " but I believe first-sight love often operates too powerfully in both sexes : and where it does so, it will be very lucky, if either gentleman or lady find reason, on cool reflection, to approve a choice which they were so ready to make without thought." " 'Tis allowed," said Mrs. Towers, " that rash and precipitate love may operate pretty much alike in ihe rash and precipitate of both sexes : and whichsoever loves, generally exalts the person beloved above his or her merits : but I am desirous, for the sake of us maiden ladies, since it is a science in which you are so great an adept, to have your advice, how we should watch and guard against its first incroachments; and that you will tell us what you apprehend gives the men most advantage over us.'' " Nay, now, Mrs. Towers, you rally my presumption, indeed !" " 1 admire you, Madam," replied she, " and every thing you say and do ; and I won't forgive you to call what I so seriously say and think, raillery. For my own part," continued she, " I never was in love yet, nor, I believe, were any of these young ladies." (Miss Cope looked a little silly upon this.) " And who can better instruct us to guard our hearts, than a lady who has so well defended her otvn .'" S6* PAMELA. Caution against the Doctrine ** Why then, Madam, if I must speak, 1 think, what gives the other sex the greatest advantage over even many of the most deserving ones, is that dangerous foihle, the lw wound a lady's ears with indecent words : if he endeavour, in his express' >ns or sentiments, to convey gross or impure ideas to her mind : if he is continually pressing for Iter confidence in hit honour: if he requests favours which a lady ought to refuse : if he can be regardless of his conduct or behaviour to her : if he can use boisterous or rude freedoms, either to her person cr dress " [Hive po^r Mss Cope, by her blushes, bore witness to her case.] " If he avoids speaking of marriage, PAMELA. 865 Benefit of Mrs. E.'s Advice to the neighbouring young Ladies. when he has a fair opportunity of doing it" [Here Miss L. looked down and flushed] ** or leaves it once to a lady to wonder that he does not : " In any, or in all these cases, he is to be suspected, and a lady can have little hope of such a person ; nor, as I humbly apprehend, consistent with honour and discretion, encourage his address." The ladies were so kind as to applaud all I said, and so did the dean. Miss Stapylton, Miss Cope, and Miss L. were to write down what they could remember of the conversation : and our noble guests coming in soon after, with Mr. B., the ladies would have departed ; but he prevailed upon them to pass the evening ; and Miss L. who had an admirable ringer on the harpsichord, obliged us with two or three lessons. We all sung or played too in turns, so that we had an exceeding gay evening, and parted with great satisfaction on all sides. The distance of time since this conversation passed, enables me to add what I could not do, when I wrote the account of it, which you have mislaid : and which take briefly, as follows : Miss Stapylton was as good as her word, and wrote down all ?he could recollect of the conversation ; and 1 having already sent her the letter she desired, containing my observations upon the flighty style she so much admired, it had such an effect upen her, as to turn the course of her read- ing and studies to weightier and more solid subjects ; and avoiding :he gentleman she had begun to favour, gave way to her parents' recommen- dations, and is happily married lo Sir Jonathan Barnes. Miss Cope came to me a week after, with the leave of both her parent?. and tarried with me three days ; in which time she opened all her heart to me, and returned in swell a disposition, and with such resolutions, th.it she never would see her peer again ; nor receive letters from hint, which she owned to me she had done clandestinely before : and she is now the happy lady of Sir Mich lei Beaumont, who makes her the best of husbands, and permits her to follow her charitable inclinations, according to a scheme which she consulted me upon. Miss L. by the dean's indulgent prudence and discretion, has escaped her rake ; and upon ih>* discovery of an intrigue he was carrying on with another, conceived a just abhorrence of him; and is since married to Dr. Jenkins, with whom she li v s very happily. Miss Sutton is not quite so well off as the three former; though not altogether so unhappy neither, in her way. She could not indeed conqut r her love of dress and tins* 1 ; and so became the lady of Col. Wilson : and they are thus far easy in the marriage state, that, being seldom together, they save, probably, a multitude of misunderstandings; for the colonel loves gaining, in which he is generally a winnt r , ti i so passes his time moiily in town. His lady has her pleasures, neither laudabl* nor criminal i> 28 3 L 866 PAMELA. Mrs. B.'s Stories tor her Nursery. ones, which she pursues in the country. And now and then a letter passes on both sides, by the inscription and subscription of which they remind one another that they have been once in their lives at one church together. And what now, my dear Lady G. have I to add to this tedious account (for letter I can hardly call if) but that I am, with great affection, your true friend and servant, P. B. LETTER XCI. MY DEAR LADY G. YOU desire to have a little specimen of my nursery tales and stories, with whieh I entertain my Miss Goodwin and my little boys. But you make me too high a compliment, when you tell me, it is for your own instruction and example. Yet you know, my dear Lady G. be your motives what they will, I must obey you, although, were others to see it, I might expose myself to the smiles and contempt of judges less prejudiced in my favour. So I will begin without any further apology ; and, as near as I can, give you those very stories with which Miss Fenwick was so pleased, and of .which she has made so favourable a report. Let me acquaint you, then, that my method is to give characters of persons I have known in one part or other of my life, in feigned names, whose conduct may serve for imitation or warning to my dear attentive Miss ; and sometimes I give instances of good boys and naughty boys, for the sake of my Billy and my Davers ; and they are continually coming about me, " Dear Madam, a pretty story," now cries Miss: " and dear mamma, tell me of good boys and of naughty boys," cries Billy. Miss is a surprising child of her age, and is very familiar with many of the best characters iti the Spectators ; and having a smattering of Latin, and more than a smattering of Italian, and being a perfect mistress of French, is seldom at a loss for a derivation of such words as are not of English original. And so I shall give you a story in feigned names, with which she is so delighted, that she has written it down. But I will first trespass en your patience with one of my childish tales. Every day, once or twice, I cause Miss Goodwin, who plays and sings very prettily, to give a tune or two to me, my Billy, and my Davers, who, a* well as my Pamela, love and learn to touch the keys, young as the latter is ; and she will have a sweet finger, I can observe that; and a charming ear ; and her voice is music itself ! " O the fond, fond mother '." I know you will say, on reading this. Then, Madam, we all proceed hand in hand together to the nursery, to my Charley and Jemmy : and in this happy retirement, so much my delight in the absence of my best beloved, imagine you see me seated, surrounded with the joy and the hope of my future prospects, as well as my present comforts. PAMELA. 867 Mrs. B.'s Stories for her Nursery. Miss Goodwin, imagine you see on my right hand, sitting on a velvet utool, because she is eldest, and a miss ; Billy on my left, in a little cane elbow-chair, because he is eldest, and a good boy ; my Davers, and my sparkling eyed Pamela, with my Charley between them, on little silken cushions, at my feet, hand in hand, their pleased eyes looking up to my more delighted ones; and my sweet-naturcd promising Jemmy, in my lap ; the nurses and the cradle just behind us, and the nurserymaids delightedly pursuing some useful needlework for the dear charmers of my heart- All as hush and are still as silence itself, as the pretty creatures generally are, when their little watchful eyes see my lips beginning to open : for they take great notice already of my rule of two ears to one tongue, insomuch that if Billy or Davers are eitherof them for breaking the mum, as they call it, they are immediately hush, at any time, if J put my iingor to my lip, or if Miss points hei's to her ear, even to the breaking- of a word in two, as it were : and yet all my boys are as lively as so many birds : wlkile my Pamela is cheerful, easy, soft, gentle, always smiling, but modest and harmless as a dove. I began with a story of two little boy?, and two little girl-, the chil- dren of a fine gentleman, and a fine lady, who loved them dearly; that they were all so good, and loved one another so well, that every body who Saw them, admired them, and talked of them far and near; that they would part with any thing- to one another; loved the poor ; spoke kindly to the servants ; did every thing they were bid to do; were not proud; knew no strife, but who should learn th< ir books best, and be the prettiest scholar; that the servants loved them, and would do any thing they desired; that tiny were not proud of fine clothes; lit not their heads run upon their playthings when they should mind their book* ; said grace before they ate, their prayers before they went to bed, and as soon as th-ey rose; were always clean and neat; would not till a fib for the world, and were above doing any thing that required one ; that Gun blrs-ed them more and more, and blessed tlieir papa and mamma, and their uncles and aunts, and cousins, for their sakes. " And there was a hap])' family my dear loves! No one idle; all prettily employed ; (he masters at their books ; the misses at their books too, or at their needles ; except at their play-hours, when they were never rod'', nor noisy, nor mischievous, nor quarrelsome: and no such word was ever heard from their mouths, as, ,{ Why mayn't I have this or that, as well as Billv or Bobby ?" Or, " Why should Sally have this or that, any more than I ?" But it was, " As my mamma phases; my mamma knows best;" and a bow and a smile, and no surliness, or scowling brow to be si en, if they were denied anything; for well did they know that their papa and mamma loved tbein so dearly, that they would refuse them nothing that was for theif Jl'J 86 PAMELA. i i *in' i mmmm ' . . Mr. B.'s Stories for her Nursery. good ; and they were sure when they were refused, they asked for some- thing that would have done them hurt, had it been granted. Never were such good hoys and girls as these? And they grew up ; and the masters became fine scholars, and fine gentlemen, and every body honoured them : and the misses became fine ladies, and fine housewives; and this gentle- man, when they grew to be women, sought to marry one of the misses, and that gentleman the other ; and happy was he that could be admitted into their companies ! so that they had nothing to do but to prek and choose out of the best gentlemen in the county : while the greatest ladies for birth, and the most remarkable for virtue (which, my dears, is better than either birth or fortune) thought themselves honouredby the addresses of the two brothers. And they married, and made tjood papas and mam- mas, and were so many blessings to the age in which they lived. There, my dear loves, were happy sons and daughters ; for good masters seldom fail to make good gentlemen ; and good misses, good ladies ; and God blesses them with as good children as they were to their parents ; and so the blessing goes round ! Who would not but be good ?" " Well, but, mamma, we will all be good : Won't we, Master Daveis?" cries my Billy. " Yes, brother Billy. But what will become of the naughty "boys ? Tell us, mamma, about the naughty boys !" high a li-t you must not be proud nor conceited neither; but make this one rule your guide: 3 L 4 87<2 PAMELA. The Story of Profiiiana. " In your maiden state, think yourself above the gentlemen, and they'll think you so too, and address you with reverence and respect, if they see there be neither pride nor arrogance in your behaviour, but a consciousness of merit, a true dignity, such as becomes virgin modesty, and untainted purity of mind and manners, like that of an angel among men ; for so young ladies should look upon themselves to be, and will then be treated as such by the other, sex. " In your married s tate, which is a kind of state of humiliation for a lady, you must think yourself subordinate to your husband ; for so it has pleased God to make the wife. You must have no will of your own, in petty things ; and if you many a gentleman of sense and honour, such an one as your uncle, he will look upon you as his equal ; and will exalt you the more for your abasing yourself. In short, my dear, he will act by yoiv, just as your dear uncle does by me : and then, what a happy creature will you be 1" " So 1 shall, Madam ! To be sure I shall ! But I know I shall be. happy whenever I marry, because I have such wise directors, and such an example before me : and, if it please God, I will never think of any man (in pursuance of your constant advice to young ladies at the tea-table) who is not a man of sense and a virtuous gentleman. But now, dear Madam, for your next character. There are two more yet to come, that's my pleasure ! I wish there were ten V ". Why, the next was Profusiana, you may remember, my love. Pro- fusiana took another course to her ruin. She fell into some of Coquetilla's foibles, but pursued them for another end, and in another manner. Struck with the grandeur and magnificence of what weak people call upper life, she gives herself up to the circus, to balls, to operas, to masquerades, and assemblies; affects to shine at Ihe head of all companies, at Tun- bridge, at Bath, and every place of public resort; plays high, is always receiving and paying visits, giving balls, and making treats and entertain- ments ; and is so much above the conduct which mostly recommends a young lady to th esteem of the deserving of the other sex, that no gentle- man, who prefers solid happiness, can think of addressing her, though she is a fine person, and has many outward' graces of behaviour. She becomes the favourite toast of the place she frequents, is proud of that distinction ; gives tbe fashion, and delights in the pride that she can make apes in imitation, whenever she pleases. But yet endeavouring to avoid being thought proud, makes herself cheap, and is the subject of the attempts of every coxcomb of eminence ; and, with much ado, preserves her virtue, though not her character. " What, all this while, is poor Profusiana doing? She would be glad, perhaps, of a suitable proposal, and would, it may be, give up some of her PAMELA. 873 The Story of Profusiana. gaieties awl extravagances : for Profusiana has wit, and is not totally destitute of reason, when she suffers herself to think* But her conduct procures her not one solid friendship, and she has not in a twelvemonth, among a thousand professions of service, one devoir that she can attend to, or a friend that she can depend upon. All the women she sees, if she excels them, hate her: the gay part of the men, with whom she accom- panies most, are all in a plot against her honour. Even the gentlemen, whose conduct in the general is governed hy principles of virtue, come down to these public places to partake of the innocent freedoms allowed there, and oftentimes give themselves airs of gallantry, and never have it in their thoughts to commence a treaty of marriage with an acquaintance begun upon that gay spot. What solid friendships and satisfactions then is Profusiana excluded from ! " Her name indeed is written in every public window, and prostituted, as I may call it, at the pleasure of every profligate or sot, who wears a diamond to engrave it : and that, it may be, with most vile and barbarous imputations and freedoms oi words, added by rakes, who very probably never exchanged a syllable with her. The wounded trees are perhaps also taught to wear the initials of her name, linked, not unlikely, and widening as they grow, with those of a scoundrel. But all this while she makes not the least impression upon one noble heart : and at last, perhaps, having run on to the end of an uninterrupted race of follies, she is cheated into the arms of some vile fortune-hunter; who quickly lavishes away the remains of that fortune which her extravagance had left ; and then, after the worst usuage, abandoning her with contempt, 'he sinks into an obscurity that cuts short the thread of her life, and leaves no remembrance, but on the brittle glass, and still more faithless bark, that ever she had a being." " Alas, alas ! what a butterfly of a day," said Miss (an expression she remembered of Lady Towers J " was poor Profusiana ! What a sad thing to be so dazzled by worldly grandeur, and to have so many admirers, and not one real friend !" " Very trw, my dear; and how carefully ought a person of a gay and lively temper to watch over it !^ And what a rock may public places be to & lady's reputation, if she be not doubly vigilant in her conduct, when she is exposed to the censures and observations of malignant crowds of p ople ; many of the worst of whom spare the least those who are most unlike themselves." * But then, Madam," said Miss, " would Profusiana venture t*> play at public places ? Will ladies game, Madam ? I have heard you say, that lords, and sharpers but just out of liveries, i'i gaining, are upon a foot in every thing, save that one has nothing to lose, and the other much, 874 PAMELA. The Story of Prudentia. besides his reputation ? And will ladies so disgrace their characters, and their sex, as to pursue this pernicious diversion in public ?" " Yes, my dear, they will too often, the more's the pity ! And don't you remember, when we were at Bath, in what a hurry I once passed by some knots of genteel people, and you asked what those were doing ? I told you, whisperingly, they were gaming ; and loath I was, that my Miss Goodwin should stop to see some sights, to which, till she arrived at the years of discretion, it was not proper to familiarize her eye ; in some sort acting like the ancient Romans, who would not assign punishments to certain atrocious crimes, because they had such a high idea of human nature, as to suppose it incapable of committing them : so I was not for having you, while a little girl, see those things, which I knew would give no credit to our sex, and which I thought, when you grew older, should be new and shocking to you: but now you are so much a woman in dis- cretion, I may tell you any thing." She kissed my hand, and made me a fine curtsey and told me, that now she longed to hear of Prudentia's conduct. " Her name, Madam," said she, " promises better things than those of her three companions; and so it had need : for how sad is it to think, that out of four ladies of distinction three of them should be naughty, and, of course, unhappy." " These two words, of course, my dear," said I, " were very prettily put in : let me kiss you for it : since every one that is naughty, first or last, must be certainty unhappy. " Far otherwise than what I have related was it with the amiable Prudentia. Like the industrious bee, she makes up her honey hoard from every flower, bitter as well as sweet ; for every character is of use to her, by which she can improve her own. She had the happiness of an aunt, who loved her, as I do you ; and of an uncle who doated on her, as your's docs : for, alas 1 poor Prudentia lost her papa and mamma almost in her infancy, in one week: but was so happy in her uncle and aunt's care, as not to miss them in her education, and but just to remember their persons. By reading, by observation, and by attention, she-daily added new advantages to those which her education gave her. She saw, and pitied, the fluttering freedoms and dangerous flights of Coquetilla. The sullen pride, the affectation, and stiff reserves, which Prudiana assumed, she penetrated, and made it her study to avoid. And the gay, hazardous conduct, extravagant temper, and love of tinselled grandeur, which were the blemishes of Profusiana's character, she dreaded and shunned. She fortifies herself with the excellent examples of the past and present ages, and knows how to avoid the faults of the faulty, and to imitate the graces of the most perfect. She takes into her scheme of that future happiness, which she hopes to make her owp, what are the true excel- P A M E L A. 875 The Story of Prn'lentia. lences of her sex, and endeavours to appropriate lo herself the domestic virtues, which shall one day make her the crown of some worthy gentle- man's earthly happiness : and which, of cowrse, m as you prettily said, my dear, will secure and heighten her own. " That noble frankness of disposition, that sweet and unaffected open- ness and simplicity, which shines in all her actions and behaviour, com- mend her to the esteem and reverence of all mankind; as her humility and affability, and a remper uncensorious, and ever making the best of what he said of the absent person, of either sex, do to the love of every laity. Her name, indeed, is not prostituted on windows, nor carved on the barks of trees in public places : but it smells sweet to every nostril, dwells on every tongue, and is engraven on: every heart. She meets with no address but from men of honour and probity : the fluttering coxcomb, the inveigling parasite, the insidious deceiver, the mercenary fortune- hunter, spread no snares for a heart guarded by discretion and prudence, as hers is. They see, that all her amiable virtues are the hippy result of an uniform judgment, and the effects of her own wisdom, founded in an education to which she does the highest credit. And at last, after several worthy offers, enough to perplex a lauy's choice, she blesses some one happy gentleman, more distinguished than the rest, for learning, good sense, arid true politeness, which is but another word for virtue and honour ; and shines, to her last hour, in all the duties of domestic life, as- an excellent wife, mother, mistress, friend, and Christian ; and so confirms all the expectations of which her maiden life hud given such strong and such edifying; presages." Then folding my dear Miss in my arms, and kissing her, tears of plea- sure standing in her pretty eyes, " Who would not,' said 1, "shun the exani| lc- ol the CoquetHlas, the Prudianas, and the Profusianas of this world, and choose to imitate the character o/ Prudcntia ! the happy, and the happy-making; Prudentia?" " O Madam ! Madam !" said th>' dear creature, smothering me with her rapturous kiss, -, " Prduentia is vol ! Is vou indeed ! It ran he nobody else ' () reach me, good God ! to follow your example, and I shall be a second Prudentia Indeed I shall !" " God send you may, my beloved Mi-s ! And may He bliss you more, if possible, than Prudentia was blessed!" Ami so, my dear Lady G. you have some of my nur>t!v tales; with which, relying on your kind allowance and friendship, 1 conclude myself your affectionate and faithful P, B. 376 PAMELA. CONCLUSION. THE Editor thinks proper to conclude in this place, that he may not be thought to deserve a suspicion, that the extent of the work was to be measured by the patience of its readers. But he thinks it necessary, in order to elucidate the whole, to subjoin a note of the following facts. MR. B. (after the affair which took dale at the masquerade, and concluded so happily) continued to be one of the best and most exemplary of men, *n honour to his country, both in his public and private capacity; having, at the instances of some of his friends in very elevated stations, accepted of an honourable employment abroad in the service of the state ; which he discharged in such a manner, as might be expected from his qualifica- tions and knowledge of the world : and on his return, after an absence of three years, resisting all the temptations of ambition, devoted himself to private duties, and joined with his excellent lady in every pious wish of her heart ; adorning the married life with all the warmth of an elegant tenderness ; beloved by his tenants, respected by his neighbours, revered by his children, and almost adored by the poor, in every county where his estates gave him interest, as well for his own bountiful temper, as for the charities he permitted to be dispensed, with so liberal a hand, by his lady. She made him the father of seven fine children, five sons, and two daughters, all adorned and accomplished by nature, to be the joy and delight of such parents. -^ Miss Goodwin, at the age of eighteen, was married to a young gentle- man of fine parts, and great sobriety and virtue : and both she and he, in every material part of their conduct, and in their behaviour to one another, emulate the good example set them by Mr. and Mrs. B. Lord Davers dying two years before this marriage, his lady went to reside at the ball in Lincolnshire, the place of her birth, that she might enjoy the company and conversation of her excellent sister; who, for con- venienry of the chapel, and advantage of room and situation, had prevailed upon Mr. B. to make it the chief place of his residence; and there the noble lady lived long fin the strictest friendship with the happy pair) an honourable relict of her affectionate lord. The worthy Mr. Andrews, and his wife, lived together in the sweet tranquillity set forth in their letters, for the space of twelve years, at the Kentish farm : the good old gentlewoman died first, full of years and comfort, her dutiful daughter performing the last pious offices to so beloved and so loving a parent : her husband survived her about a year only. Lady G. Miss Darnford that was, after a happy marriage of several years, died in childbed of her fourth child, to the inexpressible concern of her affectionate consort, and of her dear friend Mrs. B. PAMELA. 8?7 Lord H. after having suffered great dishonour by the ill courses of Ids wife, and great devastations in his estate, through her former debts and continued extravagance (intimidated and dispirited hy her perpetual insults, and those of her gaming brother, who with his bullying friends, terrified him into their measures) threw himself upon the protection of Mr. 13. who, by his spirit and prudence, saved him from utter ruin, punished his wife's accomplices, and obliged her to accept of a separate maintenance; awd then taking his affairs into his own management, in due course of time, entirely re-established them: and after some years his wife dying, he became wiser by his past sufferings, and married a second, of Lady Davers's recommendation, who, hy her prudence and virtue, made him happy for the remainder of his days. Mr. Longman lived to a great age in the worthy family, much esteemed by every one, having trained up a diligent youth, whom he had recom- mended, to ease him in his business, and who, answering expectation, succeeded him in it after his death. He dying rich, out of his great love and gratitude to the family, in whose service he had acquired most of his fortune, and in disgust to his nearest relations, who had perversely disobliged him ; he bequeathed to three of them one hundred pounds a-piece, and left all the rest to his honoured principal, Mr. 15. ; who, as soon as he came to know it, being at that time abroad, directed his lady to call together the relations of the old gentle- man, and, after touching them to the heart with a just and effectual reproof, and finding them rilled with a due sense of their demerit, which had bten the cause of their suffering, then to divide the whole, which had been left him, among them, in greater proportions as they were inort nearly related : an hut ion worthy of so generous and ennobled a spirit; and which procured him the prayers and blessings, not only of the bene- fited, but all who beard of it. For it is eay to imagine, how cheerfully, and how gracefully, his benevolent lady discharged a command o well ?oiied to her natural generosity. THF-: END DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER, FOR PLACING THE PLATES. Frontispiece, with Portrait of the Author, to face the Title-page Mrs. Jewkes introducing Monsieur Colbrand to Pamela . . . 131 Pamela's unexpected Interview with her Father .... 236 Mr. B. relating the History of Miss Godfrey to Pamela . . . 388 Pamela reproving her Maidservant 60t The Masquerad* . . 677 f 3irti.lt and Newman, I'ttulers, Oxford. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which It was borrowed. SG I 3 1158 01064 0497 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000 073 078 8