PAMELA

Volume II

By Samuel Richardson

AUTHOR'S ORIGINAL PREFACE TO VOLUME II

The First part of PAMELA met with a success greatly exceeding the mostsanguine expectations: and the Editor hopes, that the Letters whichcompose this Part will be found equally written to NATURE, avoidingall romantic nights, improbable surprises, and irrational machinery;and the passions are touched, where requisite; and rules, equally_new_ and _practicable_, inculcated throughout the whole, for the_general conduct of life_; and, therefore, he flatters himself, thatthey may expect the good fortune, which _few continuations_ have metwith, to be judged not unworthy the _First_ Part; nor disproportionedto the more exalted condition in which PAMELA was destined to shineas an affectionate _wife_, a faithful _friend_, a polite and kind_neighbour_, an indulgent _mother_, and a beneficent _mistress_;after having in the former Part 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, asmust arise from a multitude of important subjects, in a married life, to such geniuses and friendships as those of Mr. And Mrs. B. TheEditor's greatest difficulty was how to bring them within the compasswhich he was determined not to exceed. And it having been left tohis own choice, in what manner to digest and publish the letters, andwhere to close the work, he had intended, at first, in regard to hisother avocations, to have carried the piece no farther than the FirstPart. 

It may be expected, therefore, that he should enter into anexplanation of the reasons whereby he was provoked into a necessity ofaltering his intention. But he is willing to decline saying any thingupon so well-known a subject. 

The Editor has been much pressed with importunities and conjectures, in relation to the person and family of the gentleman, who are theprincipal persons in the work; all he thinks himself at liberty tosay, or is necessary to be said, is only to repeat what has alreadybeen hinted, that the story has its foundation in truth; and thatthere was a necessity, for obvious reasons, to vary and disguise somefacts and circumstances, as also the names of persons, places, &c. 

LETTER I

My dear father and mother, We arrived here last night, highly pleased with our journey, and theoccasion of it. May God bless you both with long life and health, to enjoy your sweet farm, and pretty dwelling, which is just what Iwished it to be. And don't make your grateful hearts too uneasy in thepossession 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 ofmen, it is not so _very_ extraordinary, considering his condition, as to cause any one to censure it as the effect of a too partial andinjudicious kindness for the parents of one whom he _delighteth tohonour_. 

My dear master (why should I not still call him so, bound to reverencehim as I am, in every light he can shine in to the most obliging andsensible heart?) still proposes to fit up the large parlour, andthree apartments in the commodious dwelling he calls yours, for hisentertainment and mine, when I pay my duty to you both, for a fewhappy days; and he has actually given orders to that effect; and thatthe three apartments be _so_ fitted up, as to be rather suitableto _your_ condition, than his own; for, he says, the plain simpleelegance, which he will have observed in the rooms, as well as thefurniture, will be a variety in his retirement to this place, thatwill make him return to his own with the greater pleasure; and, at thesame time, when we are not there, will be of use for the reception ofany of your friends; and so he shall not, as he kindly says, rob thegood couple of any of their accommodations. 

The old bow-windows he will have preserved, but will not have themsashed, nor the woodbines, jessamines, and vines, that run up againstthem, destroyed: only he will have larger panes of glass, and moreconvenient casements to let in the sweet air and light, and makeamends for that obstructed by the shades of those fragrant climbers. For he has mentioned, three or four times, how gratefully theydispensed their intermingled odours to us, when, the last eveningwe stood at the window, to hear the responsive songs of two warblingnightingales, one at a distance, the other near, which delighted usfor above two hours, and the more, as we thought their season had beenover. And when they had done, he made _me_ sing him one, for whichhe rewarded me with a kiss, saying, "How greatly do the innocentpleasures I now hourly taste, exceed the guilty tumults that usedformerly to agitate my unequal mind!--Never talk, my Pamela, as youfrequently do, of obligation to me: one such hour as I now enjoy is anample reward for all the benefits I can confer on you and yours in mywhole life!"

The parlour will indeed be more elegant; though that is to be ratherplain than rich, as well in its wainscot as furniture, and to benew-floored. The dear gentleman has already given orders, and you willsoon have workmen to put them in execution. The parlour-doors are tohave brass-hinges and locks, and to shut as close, he tells them, asa watch-case: "For who knows, " said he, "my dear, but we shall havestill added blessings, in two or three charming boys and girls, to place there in their infancy, before they can be of age to bebenefited by your lessons and example? And besides, I shall no doubtentertain there some of my chosen friends, in their excursions for aday or two. "

How am I, every hour of my life, overwhelmed with instances of GodAlmighty's goodness and his! O spare, blessed Father of Mercies, theprecious life of this excellent man; increase my thankfulness, andmy 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 ownmind, I cannot be. 

The beds he will have of cloth, as he thinks the situation a littlecold, especially when the wind is easterly, and purposes to be downin the early spring season, now and then, as well as in the latterautumn; and the window curtains of the same, in one room red, inthe other green; but plain, lest you should be afraid to use themoccasionally. The carpets for them will be sent with the otherfurniture; for he will not alter the old oaken floors of thebed-chamber, nor the little room he intends for my use, when I choosenot to join in such company as may happen to fall in: "Which, mydear, " says he, "shall be as little as is possible, only particularfriends, who may be disposed, once in a year or two, to see when I amthere, how I live with my Pamela and her parents, and how I pass mytime in my retirement, as I shall call this: or, perhaps, they will beapt 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, buta piece of requisite policy in me: for who will offer to reproach mewith marrying, as the world thinks, below me, when they shall see thatI not only pride myself in my Pamela, but take pleasure in owning herrelations as mine, and visiting them, and receiving visits from them:and yet offer not to set them up in such a glaring light, as if Iwould have the world forget (who in that case would always takethe more pleasure in remembering) what they were! And how will itanticipate low reflection, when they shall see, I can bend my mind topartake with them the pleasure of their humble but decent life?--Ay, "continued he, "and be rewarded for it too, with better health, betterspirits, and a better mind; so that, my dear, " added he, "I shall reapmore 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 deprecated, inasmuch as (soexcellent is his nature) he cannot help it if he would. O that it wasin my power to recompense him for it! But I am poor, as I have oftensaid, in every thing but will--and that is wholly his: and what ahappiness is it to me, a happiness I could not so early have hopedfor, that I can say so without reserve; since the dear object of itrequires nothing of me but what is consistent with my duty tothe Supreme Benefactor, the first mover and cause of all his ownhappiness, of my happiness, and that of my dear, my ever dear parents. 

_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 ourhappiness, and of our obligations to your honoured spouse; you bothwere pleased witnesses of it every hour of the happy fortnight youpassed with us. Yet, my dear, we hardly know how to address ourselveseven to _you_, much less to the _'squire_, with the freedom he sooften invited us to take: for I don't know how it is, but thoughyou are our daughter, and so far from being lifted up by your highcondition, that we see no difference in your behaviour to us, yourpoor 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 tocall it--that lays a little restraint upon us. And yet, we should not, methinks, let our minds be run away with the admiration of worldlygrandeur, so as to set too much by it. But your merit and prudence areso much above all we could ever have any notion of: and to have gentrycome only to behold and admire you, not so much for your gentleness, and amiableness, or for your behaviour, and affability to poor as wellas rich, and to hear every one calling you an angel, and saying, youdeserve to be what you are, make us hardly know how to look upon you, but as an angel indeed! I am sure you have been a good angel to us;since, for your sake, God Almighty has put it into your honouredhusband's heart to make us the happiest couple in the world. Butlittle less we should have been, had we only in some far distant landheard of our dear child's happiness and never partaken of the benefitsof it ourselves. But thus to be provided for! thus kindly to be owned, and called Father and Mother by such a brave gentleman! and so placedas to have nothing to do but to bless God, him, and you, and hourlypray for you _both_, is a providence too mighty to be borne by us, with equalness of temper: we kneel together every morning, noon, andnight, and weep and rejoice, and rejoice and weep, to think how ourunworthiness is distinguished, and how God has provided for us in ourlatter days; when all our fear was, that, as we grew older and moreinfirm, and worn out by hard labour, we should be troublesome where, not our pride, but our industrious wills, would have made us wish notto be so;--but to be entitled to a happier lot: for this would havegrieved us the more, for the sake of you, my dear child, and yourunhappy brother's children: for it is well known, that, though wepretend not to boast of our family, and indeed have no reason, yetnone of us were ever sunk so low as I was: to be sure, partly by myown fault; for, had it been for your poor aged mother's sake only, Iought not to have done what I did for John and William; for so unhappywere they, poor lads! that what I could do, was but as a drop of waterto a bucket. 

You command me--Let me, as writing to Mr. B. 's lady, say _command_, though, as to my dear _daughter_, I will only say _desire_: and, indeed, I will not, as you wish me not to do, let the one condition, which was accidental, put the other, which was natural, out of mythought: you spoke it in better words, but this was the sense. But youhave the gift of utterance; and education is a fine thing, where itmeets with such talents to improve upon, as God has given you. Yetlet me not forget what I was going to say--You _command_--or, if youplease--you _desire_ me to write long letters, and often--And how canI help it, if I would? For when here, in this happy dwelling, and thiswell-stocked farm, in these rich meadows, and well-cropt acres, welook around us, and which way soever we turn our head, see blessingsupon blessings, and plenty upon plenty, see barns well stored, poultryincreasing, the kine lowing and crowding about us: and are bid tocall them our own. Then think, that all is the reward of our child'svirtue!--O my dear daughter, who can bear these things!--Excuse me!I must break off a little! For my eyes are as full as my heart: and Iwill retire to bless God, and your honoured husband. 

So, my dear child, I now again take up my pen: but reading what I hadwritten, in order to carry on the thread, I can hardly forbear againbeing in one sort affected. But do you think I will call all thesethings my own?--Do you think I would live rent-free? Can the honoured'squire believe, that having such a generous example before me, if Ihad no gratitude in my temper before, I could help being touched bysuch an one as he sets me? If this goodness makes him know no mean ingiving, shall I be so greedy as to know none in receiving? Come, come, my dear child, your poor father is not so sordid a wretch, neither. Hewill shew the world that all these benefits are not thrown away uponone, who will disgrace you as much by his temper, as by his condition. What though I cannot be as worthy of all these favours as I wish, Iwill be as worthy as I can. And let me tell you, my dear child, if theking and his royal family (God bless 'em!) be not ashamed to receivetaxes and duties from his subjects; if dukes and earls, and all thetop gentry, cannot support their bravery, without having their rentspaid; I hope I shall not affront the 'squire, to pay to his steward, what any other person would pay for his noble stock, and improvingfarm: and I will do it, if it please God to bless me with life andhealth. I should not be worthy to crawl upon the earth, if I did not. And what did I say to Mr. Longman, the faithful Mr. Longman! Sure nogentleman had ever a more worthy steward than he: it was as we werewalking over the grounds together, and observing in what good orderevery thing was, he was praising some little contrivances of my own, for the improvement of the farm, and saying, how comfortably he hopedwe might live upon it. "Ay, Mr. Longman, " said I, "comfortably indeed:but do you think I could be properly said to _live_, if I was not topay as much rent for it as another?"

--"I can tell you, " said he, "the 'squire will not receive any thingfrom you, Goodman Andrews. Why, man, he has no occasion for it: he'sworth a power of money, besides a noble and clear estate in land. Ad's-heartlikens, you must not affront him, I can tell you that: he'sas generous as a prince, where he takes; but he is hasty, and willhave his own way. "--"Why, for that reason, Mr. Longman, " said I, "Iwas thinking to make _you_ my friend!"--"Make _me_ your friend! Youhave not a better in the world, to my power, I can tell you that, nor your dame neither; for I love such honest hearts: I wish my ownbrother would let me love him as well; but let that pass. What I cando for you, I will, and here's my hand upon it. "

"Well, then, " said I, "it is this: let me account to you at the rentFarmer Dickens offered, and let me know what the stock cost, andwhat the crops are valued at; and pay the one as I can, and the otherquarterly; and not let the 'squire know it till you can't choose; andI shall be as happy as a prince; for I doubt not, by God's blessing, to make a comfortable livelihood of it besides. "--"Why, dost believe, Goodman Andrews, " said he, "that I would do such a thing? Would nothis honour think if I hid one thing from him, I might hide another? Goto, honest heart, I love thee dearly; but can Mr. B. Do too much forhis lady, think'st thou? Come, come" (and he jeered me so, I knew notwhat to say), "I wish at bottom there is not some pride in this. What, I warrant, you would not be too much beholden to his honour, wouldyou?"--"No, " said I, "it is not that, I'm sure. If I have any pride, it is only in my dear child--to whom, under God, all this is owing. But some how or other it shall be so. "

And so, my dear daughter, I resolve it shall; and it will be, overand above, one of the greatest pleasures to me, to do the good 'squireservice, as well as to be so much benefited and obliged by him. 

Our eldest grandson Thomas desires to come and live with us: the boyis honest, and, I hear, industrious. And cousin Borroughs wants meto employ his son Roger, who understands the business of a farm verywell. It is no wonder, that all one's relations should wish to partakeof our happy lot; and if they _can_ and _will_ do their business aswell as others, I see not why relationship should be an objection:but, yet, I think, one should not _beleaguer_, as one may say, yourhonoured husband with one's relations. You, my best child, will giveme always your advice, as to my carriage in this my new lot; for Iwould not for the world be thought an encroacher. And you have sofollowed than yours. 

Our blessing (I am sure you have blessed us!) attend you, my dearestchild; and may you be as happy as you have made us (I cannot wish youto be happier, because I have no notion how it can be in this life). Conclude us, _your ever-loving father and mother_, JOHN _and_ ELIZ. ANDREWS. 

May we hope to be favoured now and then with a letter from you, mydear child, like some of your former, to let us know how you go on? Itwould be a great joy to us; indeed it would. But we know you'll haveenough to do without obliging us in this way. So must acquiesce. 

LETTER III

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I have shewed your letter to my beloved. Don't be uneasy that I have;for you need not be ashamed of it, since it is my pride to have suchhonest and grateful parents: and I'll tell you what he said to it, asthe best argument I can use, why you should not be uneasy, but enjoywithout pain or anxiety all the benefits of your happy lot. 

"Dear good souls!" said he, "now every thing they say and writemanifests the worthiness of their hearts! No wonder, Pamela, you loveand revere such honest minds; for that you would do, were they notyour parents: and tell them, that I am so far from having them believewhat I have done for them were only from my affection for theirdaughter, that let 'em find out another couple as worthy as they are, and I will do as much for them. I would not place them, " he continued, "in the _same_ county, because I would wish _two_ counties to beblessed for their sakes. Tell them, my dear, that they have a rightto what they enjoy on the foot of their own _proper_ merit; and _bid_them enjoy it as their patrimony; and if any thing arise that is morethan they themselves can wish for, in their way of life, let them lookamong their own relations, where it may be acceptable, and communicateto them the like solid reasons for rejoicing in the situation they arepleased with: and do you, my dear, still farther enable them, as youshall judge proper, to gratify their enlarged hearts, for fear theyshould deny any comfort to themselves, in order to do good to others. "

I could only fly to his generous bosom (for this is a subject whichmost affects me), and, with my eyes swimming in tears of grateful joy, and which overflowed as soon as my bold lips touched his dear face, bless God, and bless him, with my whole heart; for speak I couldnot! But, almost chok'd with my joy, sobb'd to him my gratefulacknowledgments. He clasped me in his arms, and said, "How, mydearest, do you overpay me for the little I have done for yourparents! If it be thus to be bless'd for conferring benefits soinsignificant to a man of my fortune, what joys is it not in the powerof rich men to give themselves, whenever they please!--Foretastes, indeed, of those we are bid to hope for: which can surely only exceedthese, as _then_ we shall be all intellect, and better fitted toreceive them. "--"'Tis too much!--too much, " said I, in broken accents:"how am I oppressed with the pleasure you give me!--O, Sir, blessme more gradually, and more cautiously--for I cannot bear it!" And, indeed, my heart went flutter, flutter, flutter, at his dear breast, as if it wanted to break its too narrow prison, to mingle still moreintimately with his own. 

Surely, my beloved parents, nobody's happiness is so great asmine!--If it proceeds thus from degree to degree, and is to beaugmented by the charming hope, that the dear second author of ourblessings, be the uniformly good as well as the partially kind man tous, what a felicity will this be! and if our prayers shall be heard, and we shall have the pleasure to think, that his advances in pietyare owing not a little to them, and to the example God shall give usgrace to set; then, indeed, may we take the pride to think, we haverepaid his goodness to us, and that we have satisfied the debt, whichnothing less can discharge. 

Forgive me, my worthy parents, if my style on this subject be raisedabove the natural simplicity, more suited to my humble talents. Buthow can I help it! For when the mind is elevated, ought not the sensewe have of our happiness to make our expressions soar equally? Can theaffections be so highly raised as mine are on these occasions, and thethoughts creep grovelling like one's ordinary self? No, indeed!--Callnot this, therefore, the gift of utterance, if it should appear toyou in a better light than it deserves. It is the gift of gratitude; agift which makes you and me to _speak_ and _write_, as I hope itwill make us _act_, above ourselves. Thus will our gratitude be theinspirer of joy to our common benefactor; and his joy will heightenour gratitude; and so we shall proceed, as cause and effect to eachother's happiness, to bless the dear man who blesses us. And will itbe right then to say, you are uneasy under such (at least as to yourwills) returned and discharged obligations? God Almighty requires onlya thankful heart for all the mercies he heaps upon the children ofmen; my dear Mr. B. , who in these particulars imitates Divinity, desires no more. You _have_ this thankful heart; and that to such ahigh degree of gratitude, that nobody can exceed you. 

But yet, when your worthy minds would be too much affected with yourgratitude, so as to lay under the restraints you mention, to the deargentleman, and for his sake, to your dependent daughter; let me humblyadvise you, with more particular, more abstracted aspirations, thanat other times, to raise your thoughts upwards, and consider who itis that gives _him_ the opportunity; and pray for him and for me; for_him_, that all his future actions may be of a piece with thisnoble disposition of mind; for _me_, that I may continue humble, andconsider myself blest for your sakes, and in order that I may be, insome sort, a rewarder, in the hands of Providence, of this its dearexcellent agent; and then we shall look forward, all of us, withpleasure, _indeed_, to that state, where there is no distinction ofdegree, and where the humble cottager shall be upon a par with theproudest monarch. 

O my dear parents, how can you, as in your _postscript_, say, "Maywe not be _favoured_ now-and-then with a letter?" Call _me_ yourdaughter, your Pamela--I am no lady to you. I have more pleasure to becalled your comfort, and thought to act worthy of the sentiments withwhich your example and instructions have inspired me, than in anyother thing in this life; my determined duty to our common benefactor, the best of gentlemen and husbands, excepted. God has blessed me foryour sakes, and has thus answered for me all your prayers; nay, _more_than answered all you or I could have wished or hoped for. We onlyprayed, only hoped, that God would preserve _you_ honest, and _me_virtuous: and, O see, my excellent parents, how we are crowned withblessings upon blessings, till we are the talk of all that know us. 

Hence, my dear parents (I mean, from the delight I have in writing toyou, which transports me far above my own sphere), you'll see, that I_must_ write, and cannot help it, if I would. And _will_ it be a greatjoy to you?--And is there any thing that can add to your joy, thinkyou, in the power of your Pamela, that she would not _do_? O that thelives and healths of my dearest Mr. B. And you, my parents, may becontinued to me! And who can then be so blest as your Pamela?

I _will_ write, _depend_ upon it, on every occasion--and you augmentmy joys to think it is in my power to add to your comforts. Nor canyou conceive my pleasure in hoping that this your new happy lot may, by relieving you from corroding care, and the too wearying effectsof hard labour, add, in these your advanced years, to both your days. For, so happy am I, I can have no grief, no pain, in looking forward, but from reflecting, that one day we must be separated. 

But it is fit that we so comport ourselves as not to embitter ourpresent happiness with prospects too gloomy--but bring our minds to becheerfully thankful for the present, wisely to enjoy that _present_as we go along--and at last, when all is to be wound up--lie down, andsay, "_Not mine_, but _Thy will be done_. "

I have written much; yet have still more to say relating to otherparts of your kind acceptable letter; and so will soon write again:for I must think every opportunity happy, whereby I can assure you, how much I am, and will ever be, without any addition to my name, ifit will make you easier, _your dutiful_

PAMELA. 

LETTER IV

MY DEAREST FATHER AND MOTHER, I now write again, as I told you I should in my last; but I am halfafraid to look at the copy of it; for your worthy hearts, so visiblein your letter and my beloved's kind deportment upon shewing it tohim, raised me into a frame of mind, bordering on ecstasy: yet I wrotemy heart. But you must not, my dear father, write to your Pamela soaffectingly. Your _steadier_ mind could hardly bear your own movingstrain, and you were forced to lay down your pen, and retire: how thencould I, who love you so dearly, if you had not _increased_ that loveby fresh and stronger instances of your worthiness, forbear beingaffected, and raised above myself! But I will not again touch uponthis subject. 

You must know then, that my dearest spouse commands me, with his kindrespects, to tell you, he has thought of a method to make your _worthyhearts_ easy; those were his words: "And this is, " said he, "byputting that whole estate, with the new purchase, under your father'scare, as I at first intended: he shall receive and pay, and orderevery thing as he pleases: and Longman, who grows in years, shall beeased of that burden. Your father writes a very legible hand, and shall take what assistants he pleases; and do you, Pamela, see that this new task be made as easy and pleasant to him aspossible. He shall make up his accounts only to you, my dear. And there will be several pleasures arise to me upon it: first, that it will be a relief to honest Longman, who has businessenough on his hands. Next, it will make the good couple easy, to havean opportunity of enjoying that as their due, which now their toograteful hearts give them so many causeless scruples about. Thirdly, it will employ your father's time, more suitably to _your_ liking andmine, because with more ease to himself; for you see his industriouswill cannot be satisfied without doing something. In the fourth place, the management of this estate will gain him more respect and reverenceamong the tenants and his neighbours: and yet be all in his own way. For, " added he, "you'll see, that it is always one point in view withme, to endeavour to convince every one, that I esteem and value themfor their own intrinsic merit, and want not any body to distinguishthem in any other light than that in which they have been accustomedto appear. "

So, my dear father, the instrument will be drawn, and brought you byhonest Mr. Longman, who will be with you in a few days to put thelast hand to the new purchase, and to give you possession of your newcommission, if you accept it, as I hope you will; and the rather, formy dear Mr. B. 's third reason; and knowing that this trust will bedischarged as worthily and as sufficiently, after you are used toit, as if Mr. Longman himself was in it--and better it cannot be. Mr. Longman is very fond of this relief, and longs to be down to settleevery thing with you, as to the proper powers, the method, &c. Andhe says, in his usual phrase, that he'll make it as easy to you as aglove. 

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 ofkindness and favour to be done where you think proper; and he says, that, with his bad qualities, he was ever deemed a kind landlord; andthat I can confirm in fifty instances to his honour: "So that the oldgentleman, " said he, "need not be afraid of being put upon severe orharsh methods of proceeding, where things will do without; and he canalways befriend an honest man; by which means the province willbe entirely such a one as suits with his inclination. If any thingdifficult or perplexing arises, " continued he, "or where a littleknowledge in law-matters is necessary, Longman shall do all that: andyour father will see that he will not have in those points a coadjutortoo 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 formy steward, it was rather to know how to do _right_ things, thanoppressive ones; and Longman has so well answered this intention, thathe was always more noted for composing differences, than promotinglawsuits. "

I dare say, my dear father, this will be acceptable to you, on theseveral accounts my dearest Mr. B. Was pleased to mention: and what acharming contrivance is here! God for ever bless his considerate heartfor it! To make you useful to him, and easy to yourself: as well asrespected by, and even a benefactor to all around you! What can onesay to all things? But what signifies exulting on one's gratitude for_one_ benefit;--every hour the dear man heaps new ones upon us, and wecan hardly thank him for one, but a second, and a third, and so onto countless degrees, confound one, and throw back our words upon ourhearts before they are well formed, and oblige us to sit down underall with profound silence and admiration. 

As to the desire of cousin Thomas, and Roger, to live with you, Iendeavoured to sound what our dear benefactor's opinion was. He waspleased to say, "I have no choice in this case, my dear. Your fatheris his own master: he may employ whom he pleases; and, if they shewrespect to him and your mother, I think, as he rightly observes, relationship should rather have the preference; and as he can remedyinconveniences, if he finds any, by all means to let every branch ofyour family have reason to rejoice with him. "

But I have thought of this matter a good deal, since I had the favourof your letter; and I hope, since you condescend to ask my advice, youwill excuse me, if I give it freely; yet entirely submitting all toyour liking. 

First, then, I think it better to have _any body_ than relations; andfor these reasons:

One is apt to expect more regard from them, and they more indulgencethan strangers can hope for. 

That where there is such a difference in the expectations of both, uneasiness cannot but arise. 

That this will subject you to bear it, or to resent it, and to partwith them. If you bear it, you will know no end of impositions: if youdismiss them, it will occasion ill-will. They will call you unkind;and you them ungrateful: and as your prosperous lot may raise youenviers, such will be apt to believe _them_ rather than _you_. 

Then the world will be inclined to think that we are crowding upon agenerous gentleman a numerous family of indigent people; and it willbe said, "The girl is filling every place with her relations, and _beleaguering_, " as you significantly express it, "a worthygentleman;" should one's kindred behave ever so worthily. So, in thenext place, one would not, for _their_ sakes, that this should bedone; who may live with _less_ reproach, and _equal_ benefit, anywhere else; for I would not wish any one of them to be lifted outof his station, and made independent, at Mr. B. 's expense, if theirindustry will not do it; although I would never scruple to do anything reasonable to promote or assist that industry, in the way oftheir callings. 

Then, my dear father, I apprehend, that our honoured benefactor wouldbe under some difficulty, from his natural politeness, and regard foryou 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; andif you had any body as your servants there, who called you cousin, orgrandfather, or uncle, he would not care, when he came down, totreat them on the foot of common servants, though they might thinkthemselves honoured (as they would be, and as I shall always think_myself_) with his commands. And would it not, if they are modestand worthy, be as great a difficulty upon _them_, to be thusdistinguished, as it would be to _him_ and to _me_, for _his_ sake?For otherwise (believe me, I hope you will, my dear father andmother), I could sit down and rejoice with the meanest and remotestrelation I have. But in the world's eye, to every body but my best ofparents, I must, if ever so reluctant to it, appear in a light thatmay not give discredit to his choice. 

Then again, as I hinted, you will be able, without the least injuryto 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 thingoffers that you think will be to their advantage. You can fit outmy she-cousins to good reputable places. The younger you can put toschool, or, when fit, to trades, according to their talents; andso they will be of course in a way to get an honest and creditablelivelihood. 

But, above all things, one would discourage such a proud and ambitiousspirit in any of them, as should want to raise itself by favourinstead of merit; and this the rather, for, undoubtedly, there aremany more happy persons in low than in high life, take number fornumber all the world over. I am sure, although four or five years ofdifferent life had passed with me, I had so much pride and pleasurein the thought of working for my living with you, if I could but gethonest to you, that it made my confinement the more grievous, and, ifpossible, aggravated the apprehensions attending it. 

But I beg of you, not to think these my reasons proceed from the badmotives of a heart tainted with pride on its high condition. Indeed there can be no reason for it, to one who thinks after thismanner--the greatest families on earth have some among them who areunhappy and low in life; and shall such a one reproach me with havingtwenty low relations, because they have, peradventure, not above five?

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 honestpeasant will stand fairer in our esteem than the guilty peer. 

In short, this shall be my own rule--Every one who acts justly andhonestly, I will look upon as my relation, whether so or not; and themore he wants my assistance, the more entitled to it he shall be, aswell as to my esteem; while those who deserve it not, must expect onlycompassion from me, and my prayers were they my brothers or sisters. 'Tis true had I not been poor and lowly, I might not have thoughtthus; but if it be a right way of thinking, it is a blessing that Iwas so; and that shall never be matter of reproach to me, which oneday will be matter of justification. 

Upon the whole, I should think it advisable, my dear father andmother, to make such kind excuses to the offered service of mycousins, as your better reason shall suggest to you; and to do anything else for them of _more_ value, as their circumstances mayrequire, or occasions offer to serve them. 

But if the employing and having them about you, will add comfort toyour lives, I give up entirely my own opinion, and doubt not everything will be thought well of, that you shall think fit to do. 

And so I conclude with assuring you, that I am, my ever-dear parents, _your dutiful and happy daughter_. 

The copy of this letter I will keep to myself, till I have youranswer, that you may be under no difficulty how to act in either ofthe cases mentioned in it. 

LETTER V

MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, How shall I do to answer, as they deserve, your two last letters? Sureno happy couple ever had such a child as we have! But it is in vainto aim at words like yours: and equally in vain for us to offer to setforth the thankfulness of our hearts, on the kind office your honouredhusband has given us; for no reason but to favour us still more, andto quiet our minds in the notion of being useful to him. God grantI may be able to be so!--Happy shall I be, if I can! But I see thegenerous drift of his proposal; it is only to make me more easy fromthe nature of my employment, and, in my mind too, over-loaded as I maysay, with benefits; and at the same time to make me more respected inmy new neighbourhood. 

I can only say, I most gratefully accept of the kind offer; and sinceit will ease the worthy Mr. Longman, shall with still greater pleasuredo all I can in it. But I doubt I shall want ability; but I will bejust and honest, however. That, by God's grace, will be within my owncapacity; and that, I hope, I may answer for. 

It is kind, indeed, to put it in my power to do good to those whoshall deserve it; and I will take _double_ pains to find out thetrue merit of such as I shall recommend to favour, and that theircircumstances be really such as I shall represent them. 

But one thing let me desire, that I make up my accounts to Mr. Longman, or to his honour himself, when he shall be here with us. I don't know how-but it will make me uneasy, if I am to make up myaccounts to you: for so well known is your love to us, that thoughyou would no more do an unjust thing, than, by God's grace, we shoulddesire you; yet this same ill-willing world might think it was likemaking up accounts to one's self. 

Do, my dearest child, get me off this difficulty, and I can have noother; for already I am in hopes I have hit upon a contrivance toimprove the estate, and to better the condition of the tenants, atleast 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 Iwill not be too troublesome either to you, my dear child, or to yourspouse. --If I could act so for his interest, as not to be a burden, what happy creatures should we both be in our own minds!--We findourselves more and more respected by every one; and so far as shall beconsistent with our new trust, we will endeavour to deserve it, thatwe may interest as many as know us in our own good wishes and prayersfor the happiness of you both. 

But let me say, how much convinced I am by your reasons for not takingto us any of our relations. Every one of those reasons has its forcewith us. How happy are we to have so prudent a daughter to advisewith! And I think myself obliged to promise this, that whatever I dofor any of them above the amount of--forty shillings at one time, Iwill take your direction in it, that your wise hints, of making everyone continue their industry, and not to rely upon favour insteadof 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 oftenthought, if one were to have a hundred pounds a year, it would not dowithout industry; and with it, one may do with a quarter of it, andless. 

In short, my dear child, your reasons are so good, that I wonder theycame not into my head before, and then I needed not to have troubledyou about the matter: but yet it ran in my own thought, that I couldnot like to be an encroacher:--for I hate a dirty thing; and, in themidst of my distresses, never could be guilty of one. Thank God forit. 

You rejoice our hearts beyond expression at the hope you give us ofreceiving letters from you now-and-then: it will be the chief comfortof our lives, next to seeing you, as we expect we sometimes shall. But yet, my dear child, don't let us inconvenience you neither. Praydon't; you'll have enough upon your hands without--to be sure youwill. 

The workmen have made a good progress, and wish for Mr. Longman tocome down; as we also do. 

You need not be afraid we should think you proud, or lifted up withyour condition. You have weathered the first dangers, and but for yourfine clothes and jewels, we should not see any difference between ourdear Pamela and the much respected Mrs. B. But God has given youtoo much sense to be proud or lifted up. I remember, in your formerwritings, a saying of your 'squire's, speaking of you, that it was forpersons not used to praise, and who did not deserve it, to be proud ofit. 

Every day brings us instances of the good name his honour and you, mydear child, have left behind you in this country. Here comes one, andthen another, and a third, and a fourth;

"Goodman Andrews, " cries one, and, "Goody Andrews, " criesanother--(and some call us Mr. And Mrs. , but we like the other full aswell) "when heard you from his honour? How does his lady do?--What acharming couple are they!--How lovingly do they live!--What an exampledo they give to all about them!" Then one cries, "God bless themboth, " and another cries, "Amen;" and so says a third and a fourth;and all say, "But when do you expect them down again?--Such-a-onelongs to see 'em--and will ride a day's journey, to have but a sightof 'em at church. " And then they say, "How this gentleman praisesthem, and that lady admires them. "--O what a happiness is this! Howdo your poor mother and I stand fixed to the earth to hear both yourpraises, our tears trickling down our cheeks, and our hearts heavingas if they would burst with joy, till we are forced to take leave inhalf words, and hand-in-hand go in together to bless God, and blessyou 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 nottouch upon a matter so very irksome to you to hear of. But, though thetime may be some months off, she every hour prays for your safety andhappiness, and all the increase of felicity that his honour's generousheart can wish for. --That is all we will say at present; only, thatwe are, with continued prayers and blessings, my dearest child, _yourloving father and mother_, J. _and_ E. ANDREWS. 

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 alittle indisposed with the gout, and Jackey has had an intermittingfever: but they are pretty well recovered, and it shall not be longbefore I see you, now I understand you are returned from your Kentishexpedition. 

We have been exceedingly diverted with your papers. You have given us, by their means, many a delightful hour, that otherwise would have hungheavy upon us; and we are all charmed with you. Lady Betty, andher noble mamma, has been of our party, whenever we have read youraccounts. She is a dear generous lady, and has shed with us many atear over them; and my lord has not been unmoved, nor Jackey neither, at some of your distresses and reflections. Indeed, Pamela, you are acharming creature, and an ornament to your sex. We wanted to have hadyou among us a hundred times, as we read, that we might have loved, and kissed, and thanked you. 

But after all, my brother, generous and noble as he seemed, when yourtrials were over, was a strange wicked young fellow; and happy it wasfor you both, that he was so cleverly caught in the trap he had laidfor your virtue. 

I can assure you, my lord longs to see you, and will accompany me;for, he says, he has but a faint idea of your person. I tell him, and them all, that you are the finest girl, and the most improvedin person and mind, I ever beheld; and I am not afraid although theyshould imagine all they can in your favour, from my account, thatthey will be disappointed when they see and converse with you. But onething more you must do, and then we will love you still more; and thatis, send us the rest of your papers, down to your marriage at least;and farther, it you have written farther; for we all long to see therest, as you relate it, though we know in general what has passed. 

You leave off with an account of an angry letter I wrote to mybrother, to persuade him to give you your liberty, and a sum of money;not doubting but his designs would end in your ruin, and, I own, notwishing he would marry you; for little did I know of your merit andexcellence, nor could I, but for your letters so lately sent me, havehad any notion of either. I don't question, but if you have recitedmy passionate behaviour to you, when at the hall, I shall make aridiculous figure enough; but I will forgive all that, for the sake ofthe pleasure you _have_ given me, and will still farther give me, ifyou comply with my request. 

Lady Betty says, it is the best story she has heard, and the mostinstructive; and she longs to have the conclusion of it in your ownwords. She says now and then, "What a hopeful brother you have, LadyDavers! O these intriguing gentlemen!--What rogueries do they notcommit! I should have had a fine husband of him, had I received yourproposal! The _dear_ Pamela would have run in his head, and had I beenthe first lady in the kingdom, I should have stood but a poor chancein 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 theviolent wretch had driven you from him on such a slight occasion: butyet, she thinks the reasons you give in your relation, and your lovefor him (which then you began to discover was your case), as well asthe event, shewed you did right. 

But we'll tell you all our judgments, when we have read the rest ofyour accounts. So pray send them as soon as you can, to (I won't writemyself _sister_ till then) _your affectionate_, &c. 

B. DAVERS. 

LETTER VII

My good dear Lady, You have done me great honour in the letter your ladyship has beenpleased to send me; and it is a high pleasure to me, now all is sohappily over, that my poor papers in the least diverted you, and suchhonourable and worthy persons as your ladyship mentions. I could wishI might be favoured with such remarks on my conduct, so nakedly setforth (without any imagination that they would ever appear in such anassembly), as may be of use to me in my future life, and thus make memore worthy than it is otherwise possible I can be, of the honour towhich I am raised. Do, dearest lady, favour me so far. I am preparedto receive blame, and to benefit by it, and cannot expect praise somuch from my _actions_ as from my _intentions_; for indeed, thesewere always just and honourable: but why, even for these do I talk ofpraise, since, being prompted by impulses I could not resist, it canbe no merit in me to have been governed by them?

As to the papers following those in your hands, when I say, that theymust needs appear impertinent to such judges, after what you know, I dare say, your ladyship will not insist upon them: yet I will notscruple briefly to mention what they contain. 

All my dangers and trials were happily at an end: so that they onlycontain the conversations that passed between your ladyship's generousbrother and me; his kind assurances of honourable love to me; myacknowledgments of unworthiness to him; Mrs. Jewkes's respectfulchange of behaviour towards me; Mr. B. 's reconciliation toMr. Williams; his introducing me to the good families in theneighbourhood, and avowing before them his honourable intentions. Avisit from my honest father, who (not knowing what to conclude from myletter to him before I returned to your honoured brother, desiringmy papers from him) came in great anxiety of heart to know the worst, doubting I had at last been caught by a stratagem, ending in my ruin. His joyful surprise to find how happy I was likely to be. Allthe hopes given me, answered by the private celebration of ournuptials--an honour so much above all that my utmost ambition couldmake me aspire to, and which I never can deserve! Your ladyship'sarrival, and anger, not knowing I was actually married, but supposingme a vile wicked creature; in which case I should have deserved theworst of usage. Mr. B. 's angry lessons to me, for daring to interfere;though I thought in the tenderest and most dutiful manner, betweenyour ladyship and himself. The most acceptable goodness and favour ofyour ladyship afterwards to me, of which, as becomes me, I shall everretain the most grateful sense. My return to this sweet mansion in amanner so different from my quitting it, where I had been so happyfor four years, in paying my duty to the best of mistresses, yourladyship's excellent mother, to whose goodness, in taking me from mypoor honest parents, and giving me what education I have, I owe, underGod, my happiness. The joy of good Mrs. Jervis, Mr. Longman, and allthe servants, on this occasion. Mr. B. 's acquainting me with MissGodfrey's affair, and presenting to me the pretty Miss Goodwin, at thedairy-house. Our appearance at church; the favour of the gentry in theneighbourhood, who, knowing your ladyship had not disdained to lookupon me, and to be favourable to me, came the more readily into aneighbourly intimacy with me, and still so much the more readily, asthe continued kindness of my dear benefactor, and his condescendingdeportment to me before them (as if I had been worthy of the honourdone 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 theKentish farm, are the most material contents of my remaining papers:and though they might be the most agreeable to those for whom onlythey were written, yet, _as_ they were principally matters of course, after what your ladyship has with you; _as_ the joy of my fond heartcan be better judged of by your ladyship than described by me; and asyou are acquainted with all the particulars that can be worthy of anyother person's notice but my dear parents: I am sure your ladyshipwill dispense with your commands; and I make it my humble request thatyou will. 

For, Madam, you must needs think, that _when_ my doubts weredispelled; _when_ confident all my trials were over; _when_ I had aprospect of being so abundantly rewarded for what I suffered: _whenevery_ hour rose upon me with new delight, and fraught with freshinstances of generous kindness from such a dear gentleman, my master, my benefactor, the son of my honoured lady: your ladyship must needsthink, I say, that I must be _too_ much affected, my heart _too_ muchopened; and especially as it then (relieved from its past anxietiesand fears, which had kept down and damped the latent flame)first discovered impressions of which before I hardly thought itsusceptible. --So that it is scarce possible, that my _joy_ and my_prudence_, if I were to be tried by such judges of delicacy anddecorum as Lord and Lady Davers, the honoured countess, and LadyBetty, could be so _intimately_, so _laudably_ coupled, as were tobe wished: although the continued sense of my unworthiness, and thedisgrace the dear gentleman would bring upon himself by his generousgoodness to me, always went hand in hand with my _joy_ and my_prudence_; and what these considerations took from the _former_, being added to the _latter_, kept me steadier and more equal tomyself, than otherwise it was possible such a young creature as Icould have been. 

Wherefore my good lady, I hope I stand excused, and shall not bringupon myself the censure of being disobedient to your commands. 

Besides, Madam, since you inform me that my good Lord Davers willattend you hither, I should never dare to look his lordship in theface, if all the emotions of my heart, on such affecting occasions, stood confessed to his lordship; and if I am ashamed they should toyour ladyship, to the countess, and Lady Betty, whose goodness mustinduce you all three to think favourably, in such circumstances, ofone who is of your own sex, how would it concern me, for the sameto appear before such gentlemen as my lord and his nephew?--Indeed Icould not look up to either of them in the sense of this. --And give meleave to hope, that some of the scenes, in the letters your ladyshiphad, were not read to gentlemen; your ladyship must needs know whichI mean, and will think of my two grand trials of all. For though I wasthe innocent subject of wicked attempts, and so cannot, I hope, sufferin any one's opinion for what I could not help; yet, for your dearbrother's sake, as well as for the decency of the matter, one wouldnot, when having the honour to appear before my lord and his nephew, he looked upon, methinks, with that levity of eye and thought, which, perhaps, hard-hearted gentlemen may pass upon one, by reason ofthose very scenes, which would move pity and concern in a good lady'sbreast, for a poor creature so attempted. 

So, my dear lady, be pleased to tell me, if the gentlemen _have_ heardall--I hope not--and also to point out to me such parts of my conductas deserve blame: indeed, I will try to make a good use of yourcensure, and am sure I shall be thankful for it; for it will make mehope to be more and more worthy of the honour I have, of being exaltedinto such a distinguished family, and the right the best of gentlemenhas given me to style myself _your ladyship's most humble, and mostobliged 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 mewith the sequel of your papers. I was a little out of humour with youat first;--I must own I was:--for I cannot bear denial, when my heartis set upon any thing. But Lady Betty became your advocate, and said, she thought you very excusable: since, no doubt, there might be manytender things, circumstanced as you were, well enough for your parentsto see, but for nobody else; and relations of our side, the least ofall, whose future intimacy, and frequent visits, might give occasionsfor raillery and remarks, not otherwise agreeable. I regard herapology for you the more, because I knew it was a great baulk to her, that you did not comply with my request. But now, child, when you knowme more, you'll find, that if I am obliged to give up one point, Ialways insist on another, as near it as I can, in order to see if itbe only _one_ thing I am to be refused, or _every_ thing; in whichlast case, I know how to take my measures, and resent. 

Now this is what I insist upon; that you correspond with me the sameas you did with your parents, and acquaint me with every passage thatis of concern to you; beginning with your account how both of youspent your time when in Kent; for you must know we are all taken withyour duty to your parents, and the discretion of the good couple, andthink you have given a very edifying example of filial piety to allwho 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 thecomforts and conveniences of life? We people in upper life love tohear how gratitude and unexpected benefits operate upon honest minds, who have little more than plain artless nature for their guide; andwe flatter ourselves with the hopes of many a delightful hour, by yourmeans, in this our solitary situation, if obliged to pass the nextwinter 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 thing thatgives you joy or trouble: and if my brother carries you to town, forthe winter, while he attends parliament, the advices you can giveus of what passes in London, and of the public entertainments anddiversions he will take you to, related in your own artless andnatural observations, will be as diverting to us, as if at themourselves. For a young creature of your good understanding, to whomall these things will be quite new, will give us, perhaps, a bettertaste of them, their beauties and defects, than we might have before;for we people of quality go to those places, dressed out and adornedin such a manner, outvying one another, as if we considered ourselvesas so many parts of the public entertainment, and are too much pleasedwith ourselves to be able so to attend to what we see, as to form aright judgment of it; but some of us behave with so much indifferenceto the entertainment, as if we thought ourselves above being divertedby what we come to see, and as if our view was rather to trifle awayour time, than improve ourselves by attending to the story of theaction. 

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 inthis way, and divest yourself of all restraint, as if you were writingto your parents (and I can tell you, you'll write to one who will beas candid and as favourable to you as they can be), then I am sure weshall have truth and nature from you; and these are things which weare generally so much lifted above, by our conditions, that we hardlyknow what they are. 

But I have written enough for one letter; and yet, having more to say, I will, after this, send another, without waiting for your answer, which you may give to both together; and am, _yours_, &c. B. DAVERS. 

LETTER IX

DEAR PAMELA, I am very glad thy honest man has let thee into the affair of SallyGodfrey. But pr'ythee, Pamela, tell us how he did it, and thy thoughtsupon it, for that is a critical case, and as he has represented it, so shall I know what to say of it before you and him: for I would notmake mischief between you for the world. 

This, let me tell you, will be a trying part of your conduct. For heloves the child, and will judge of you by your conduct towards it. He dearly loved her mother; and notwithstanding her fault, she welldeserved it: for she was a sensible, ay, and a modest lady, and of anancient and genteel family. But he was heir to a noble estate, wasof a bold and enterprising spirit, fond of intrigue--Don't let thisconcern you--You'll have the greater happiness, and merit too, if youcan hold him; and, 'tis my opinion, if any body can, you will. Thenhe did not like the young lady's mother, who sought artfully to entraphim. So that the poor girl, divided between her inclination for him, and her duty to her designing mother, gave into the plot upon him: andhe thought himself--vile wretch as he was for all that!--at libertyto set up plot against plot, and the poor lady's honour was thesacrifice. 

I hope you spoke well of her to him--I hope you received the childkindly--I hope you had presence of mind to do this--For it is a nicepart to act; and all his observations were up, I dare say, on theoccasion--Do let me hear how it was. And write without restraint; foralthough I am not your mother, yet am I _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 isthere not a duty, in degree, to elder sisters from younger?

As to our remarks upon your behaviour, they have been much to yourcredit: but nevertheless, I will, to encourage you to enter into thisrequested correspondence with me, consult Lady Betty, and will go overyour papers again, and try to find fault with your conduct, and if wesee 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. So, Pamela, you see I put myself upon the same footof correspondence with you. Not that I will promise to answer everylatter: no, you must not expect that. Your part will be a kind ofnarrative, purposely designed to entertain us here; and I hope toreceive six, seven, eight, or ten letters, as it may happen, before Ireturn one: but such a part I will bear in it, as shall let you knowour opinion of your proceedings, and relations of things. And as youwish to be found fault with, you shall freely have it (though not ina 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 mybrother's spirit, who has not denied himself any genteel liberties(for it must be owned he never was a common town rake, and had alwaysa 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 maylove you more and more as by your letters, I shall be more and moreacquainted with you, as well as by conversation; so that you can't beoff, 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 thetime you used to have for this employment. But consider, child, thestation you are raised to does not require you to be quite a domesticanimal. You are lifted up to the rank of a lady, and you must act upto it, and not think of setting such an example, as will draw uponyou the ill-will and censure of other ladies. For will any of our sexvisit one who is continually employing herself in such works as eithermust be a reproach to herself, or to them?--You'll have nothing to dobut to give orders. You will consider yourself as the task-mistress, and the common herd of female servants as so many negroes directingthemselves by your nod; or yourself as the master-wheel, in somebeautiful pieces of mechanism, whose dignified grave motions is toset a-going all the under-wheels, with a velocity suitable to theirrespective parts. Let your servants, under your direction, do all thatrelates to household management; they cannot write to entertain andinstruct as you can: so what will you have to do?--I'll answer my ownquestion: In the first place, endeavour to please your sovereign lordand master; and let me tell you, any other woman in England, be herquality ever so high, would have found enough to do to succeed inthat. Secondly, to receive and pay visits, in order, for his creditas well as your own, to make your fashionable neighbours fond of you. Then, thirdly, you will have time upon your hands (as your monarchhimself rises early, and is tolerably regular for such a brazen faceas he has been) to write to me in the manner I have mentioned, andexpect; and I see plainly, by your style, nothing can be easier foryou than to do this. 

Thus, and with reading, may your time be filled up with reputations toyourself, and delight to others, till a fourth employment puts itselfupon you: and that is (shall I tell you boys, [Transcriber's note:text missing in original] to perpetuate a family, for many hundredyears esteemed worthy and eminent, which, being now reduced, in the direct line, to him and me, _expects_ it from you; orelse let me tell you (nor will I baulk it), my brother, by descendingto the wholesome cot--excuse me, Pamela--will want one apology for hisconduct, 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 letyou know what is expected from you, and encourage you in the prospectalready opening to you both, and to me, who have the welfare of thefamily I sprung from so much at heart, although I know this will beattended with some anxieties to a mind so thoughtful and apprehensiveas yours seems to be. 

O but this puts me in mind of your solicitude, lest the gentlemenshould have seen every thing contained in your letters-But this I willparticularly speak to in a third letter, having filled my paper on allsides: 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 betweenus. 

LETTER X

_From the same. _

And so, Pamela, you are solicitous to know, if the gentlemen have seenevery part of your papers? I can't say but they have: nor, except inregard to the reputation of your saucy man, do I see why the part youhint 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, hadno objection to any part, though read before men: only now and thencrying out, "O the vile man!--See, Lord Davers, what wretches you menare!" And, commiserating you, "Ah! the poor Pamela!" And expressingher impatience to hear how you escaped at this time, and at that, andrejoicing in your escape. And now-and-then, "O, Lady Davers, what avile brother you have!--I hate him perfectly. The poor girl cannot bemade amends for all this, though he has married her. Who, thatknows these things of him, would wish him to be hers, with all hisadvantages of person, mind, and fortune?" and his wicked attempts. 

But I can tell you this, that except one had heard every tittle ofyour danger, how near you were to ruin, and how little he stoodupon taking any measures to effect his vile purposes, even daring toattempt you in the presence of a _good_ woman, which was a wickednessthat every _wicked_ man could not be guilty of; I say, except one hadknown these things, one could not have judged of the merit of yourresistance, and how shocking those attempts were to your virtue, forthat life itself was endangered by them: nor, let me tell you, couldI, in particular, have so well justified him for marrying you (I meanwith respect to his own proud and haughty temper of mind), if therehad been room to think he could have had you upon easier terms. 

It was necessary, child, on twenty accounts, that we, your and hiswell-wishers and his relations, should know that he had tried everystratagem to subdue you to his purpose, before he married you: and howwould it have answered to his intrepid character, and pride of heart, had we not been particularly led into the nature of those attempts, which you so nobly resisted, as to convince us all, that you havedeserved the good fortune you have met with, as well as all the kindand respectful treatment he can possibly shew you?

Nor ought you to be concerned who sees any the most tender parts ofyour story, except, as I said, for his sake; for it must be a veryunvirtuous mind that can form any other ideas from what you relatethan those of terror and pity for you. Your expressions are toodelicate to give the nicest ear offence, except at him. You paint noscenes but such as make his wickedness odious: and that gentleman, much more lady, must have a very corrupt heart, who could from suchcircumstances of distress, make any reflections, but what should be toyour honour, and in abhorrence of such actions. I am so convinced ofthis, 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 assureyou, rakish as Jackey is, and freely as I doubt not that Lord Davershas formerly lived (for he has been a man of pleasure), they gave me, by their behaviour on these tender occasions, reason to think they hadmore virtue than not to be very apprehensive for your safety; and mylord often exclaimed, that he could not have thought his brother sucha libertine, neither. 

Besides, child, were not these things written in confidence had notrecited all you could recite, would there not have been room for anyone, who saw what you wrote, to imagine they had been still worse? Andhow could the terror be supposed to have had such effects upon you, asto endanger your life, without imagining you had undergone the worst avile 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 of whatyou suffered, which otherwise must have been injurious to your purity, though you could not help it?

Moreover, Pamela, it was but doing justice to the libertine himselfto tell your mother the whole truth, that she might know he was not sovery abandoned, but he could stop short of the execution of his wickedpurposes, which he apprehended, if pursued, would destroy the life, that, of all lives, he would choose to preserve; and you owed alsothus much to your parents' peace of mind, that, after all theirdistracting fears for you, they might see they had reason to rejoicein an uncontaminated daughter. And one cannot but reflect, now he hasmade you his wife, that it must be satisfaction to the wicked man, aswell as to yourself, that he was not more guilty than he _was_, nortook more liberties than he _did_. 

For my own part, I must say, that I could not have accounted for yourfits, by any descriptions short of those you give; and had you beenless particular in the circumstances, I should have judged he had beenstill _worse_, and your person, though not your mind, less pure, thanhis pride would expect from the woman he should marry; for this isthe case of all rakes, that though they indulge in all manner oflibertinism themselves, there is no class of men who exact greaterdelicacy from the persons they marry, though they care not how badthey make the wives, the sisters, and daughters of others. 

I will only add (and send all my three letters together), that we allblame you in some degree for bearing the wicked Jewkes in your sight, after her most impudent assistance in his lewd attempt; much less, wethink, ought you to have left her in her place, and rewarded her; forher vileness could hardly be equalled by the worst actions of the mostabandoned procuress. 

I know the difficulties you labour under, in his arbitrary will, andintercession for her: but Lady Betty rightly observes, that he knewwhat a vile woman she was, when he put you into her power, and nodoubt employed her, being sure she would answer all his purposes:and that therefore she should have had very little opinion of the sincerityof his reformation, while he was so solicitous in keeping her, and havingher 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; andhe that was so well pleased with your virtues, must have thought thisa natural consequence of it, if he was in earnest to reclaim. 

I know not whether you shew him all I write: but I have written thislast part in the cover, as well for want of room, as that you may keepit from him, if you please. Though if you think it will serve anygood end, I am not against shewing to him all I write. For I must everspeak my mind, though I were to smart for it; and that nobody can orhas the heart to make me do, but my bold brother. So, Pamela, for thistime, _Adieu_. 

LETTER XI

MY GOOD LADY, I am honoured with your ladyship's three letters, the contents ofwhich are highly obliging to me: and I should be inexcusable if I didnot comply with your injunctions, and be very proud and thankful foryour ladyship's condescension in accepting of my poor scribble, andpromising such a rich and valuable return; of which you have alreadygiven such ample and delightful instances. I will not plead mydefects, to excuse my obedience. I only fear that the awe which willbe always upon me, when I write to your ladyship, will lay me under sogreat a restraint, that I shall fall short even of the merit mypapers have already made for me, through your kind indulgence. --Yet, sheltering myself under your goodness, I will cheerfully comply withevery thing your ladyship expects from me, that it is in my power todo. 

You will give me leave, Madam, to put into some little method, theparticulars of what you desire of me, that I may speak to them all:for, since you are so good as to excuse me from sending the rest ofmy papers (which indeed would not bear in many places), I will omitnothing that shall tend to convince you of my readiness to obey you inevery thing else. 

First, then, your ladyship would have the particulars of the happyfortnight we passed in Kent, on one of the most agreeable occasionsthat could befall me. 

Secondly, an account of the manner in which your dear brotheracquainted me with the affecting story of Miss Godfrey, and mybehaviour upon it. 

And, thirdly, I presume your ladyship, and Lady Betty, expect me tosay something upon your welcome remarks on my conduct towards Mrs. Jewkes. 

The other particulars your ladyship mentions, will naturally fallunder 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 willnot allow for me, and keep in view the poor Pamela Andrews in all Iwrite, but have Mrs. B. In your eye, what will become of me?--But Ipromise myself so much improvement from this correspondence, thatI 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 willexpect from me, that on all occasions I should speak of them with theduty that becomes a good child) with myself, set out on the Mondaymorning for Kent, passing through St. Albans to London, at both whichplaces we stopped a night; for our dear benefactor would make us takeeasy journeys: and on Wednesday evening we arrived at the sweet placeallotted for the good couple. We were attended only by Abraham andJohn, on horseback: for Mr. Colbrand, having sprained his foot, was inthe travelling-coach, with the cook, the housemaid, and Polly Barlow, a genteel new servant, whom Mrs. Brooks recommended to wait on me. 

Mr. Longman had been there a fortnight, employed in settling the termsof an additional purchase of this pretty well-wooded and well-wateredestate: and his account of his proceedings was very satisfactory tohis honoured principal. He told us, he had much ado to dissuade thetenants from pursuing a formed resolution of meeting their landlordon horseback, at some miles distance; for he had informed them when heexpected us; but knowing how desirous Mr. B. Was of being retired, hehad ventured to assure them, that when every thing was settled, andthe new purchase actually entered upon, they would have his presenceamong them often; and that he would introduce them all at differenttimes to their worthy landlord, before we left the country. 

The house is large, and very commodious; and we found every thingabout it, and in it, exceeding neat and convenient; owing to theworthy Mr. Longman's care and direction. The ground is well-stocked, the barns and outhouses in excellent repair; and my poor parents haveonly to wish, that they and I may be deserving of half the goodness weexperience from your bountiful brother. 

But, indeed. Madam, I have the pleasure of discovering every day moreand more, that there is not a better disposed and more generous man inthe world than himself, for I verily think he has not been socareful to conceal his _bad_ actions as his _good_ ones. His heart isnaturally beneficent, and his beneficence is the gift of God for themost excellent purposes, as I have often freely told him. Pardon me, my dear lady; I wish I may not be impertinently grave: but I find agreat many instances of his considerate charity, which few knew of, and which, since I have been his almoner, could not avoid coming to myknowledge. But this, possibly, is no news to your ladyship. Every bodyknows the generous goodness of your _own_ heart: every one wantingrelief tasted the bounty of your excellent _mother_ my late honouredlady: so that 'tis a _family grace_, and I have no need to speak of itto you. Madam. 

This cannot, I hope, be construed as if I would hereby supposeourselves less obliged. I know nothing so godlike in human nature asthis disposition to do good to our fellow-creatures: for is it notfollowing immediately the example of that generous Providence whichevery minute is conferring blessings upon us all, and by giving powerto the rich, makes them but the dispensers of its benefits to thosethat 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!-Andthis being kept in mind, will always contribute to make the benefitedreceive, 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 gratefulheart is so over-filled when on this subject, that methinks I want tosay a great deal more at the same time that I am apprehensive I saytoo much. Yet, perhaps, the copies of the letters I here inclose (thatmarked [I. ] written by me to my parents, on our return to Kent; thatmarked [II. ] from my dear father in answer to it; and that marked[III. ] mine in reply to his) will (at the same time that they mayconvince your ladyship that I will conceal nothing from you in thecourse of this correspondence, which may in the least amuse and divertyou, or better explain our grateful sentiments), in a great measure, answer what your ladyship expects from me, as to the happy fortnightwe passed in Kent. 

I will now conclude, choosing to suspend the correspondence, till Iknow from your ladyship, whether it will not be too low, too idle foryour attention; whether you will not dispense with your own commandswhen you see I am so little likely to answer what you may possiblyexpect from me: or whether, if you insist upon my scribbling, youwould have me write in any other way, be less tedious, less serious-inshort, less or more any thing. For all that is in my power, yourladyship may command from, _Madam, your obliged and faithful servant_. 

P. B. 

Your dearest brother, from whose knowledge I would not keep any thingthat shall take up any considerable portion of my time, gives me leaveto proceed in this correspondence, if you command it; and is pleasedto 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 verygood, Madam?--O, my lady, you don't know how happy I am!

LETTER XII

_From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. _

My dear Pamela, You very much oblige me by your cheerful compliance with my request: Ileave 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 lessrestraint: for, you must know, that what we admire in _you_, are truthand 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 sentimentsflowing with that artless ease, which so much affects us when we readyour letters. Then, my sweet girl, your gratitude, prudence, integrityof heart, your humility, shine so much in all your letters andthoughts, that no wonder my brother loves you as he does. 

But I shall make you proud, I doubt, and so by praise ruin thosegraces which we admire, and, but for that, cannot praise you too much. In my conscience, if thou canst hold as thou hast begun, I believethou wilt have him _all to thyself_; and that was more than I oncethought any woman on this side the seventieth year of his age wouldever be able to say. The letters to and from your parents, we arecharmed with, and the communicating of them to me, I take to be asgreat an instance of your confidence in me, as it is of your judgmentand prudence; for you cannot but think, that we, his relations, area little watchful over your conduct, and have our eyes upon you, toobserve 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 toreconcile even the proudest of us to your marriage, and make us notonly love you, but respect your parents: for their honesty will, Iperceive, be their distinguishing character, and they will not forgetthemselves, nor their former condition. 

I can tell you, you are exactly right; for if you were to be an_encroacher_, as the good old man calls it, my brother would be thefirst to see it, and would gradually think less and less of you, tillpossibly he might come to despise you, and to repent of his choice:for the least shadow of an imposition, or low cunning, or mereselfishness, he cannot bear. 

In short, you are a charming girl; and Lady Betty says so too; andmoreover adds, that if he makes you not the best and _faithfullest_ ofhusbands, he cannot deserve you, for all his fortune and birth. And inmy heart, I begin to think so too. 

But won't you oblige me with the sequel of your letter to your father?For, you promise, my dear charming scribbler, in that you sent me, towrite again to his letter; and I long to see how you answer the latterpart of it, about your relations desiring already to come and livewith 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 havereason to praise or reprove you. For surely, Pamela, you must leaveone room to blame you for something. Indeed I can hardly bear thethought, that you should so much excel as you do, and have moreprudence, by nature, as it were, than the best of us get in a courseof the genteelest educations and with fifty advantages, at least, in conversation, that _you_ could not have, by reason of my mother'sretired life, while you were with her, and your close attendance onher person. 

But I'll tell you what has been a great improvement to you; it is yourown writings. This itch of scribbling has been a charming help. Forhere, having a natural fund of good sense, and prudence above youryears, you have, with the observations these have enabled you to make, been flint and steel too, as I may say, to yourself: so that you havestruck _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 youranimating sparks. So that reading constantly, and thus using yourselfto write, and enjoying besides a good memory, every thing you heardand read became your own; and not only so, but was improved by passingthrough more salubrious ducts and vehicles; like some fine fruitgrafted upon a common free-stock, whose more exuberant juices serve tobring to quicker and greater perfection the downy peach, or the smoothnectarine, with its crimson blush. 

Really, Pamela, I believe, I, too, shall improve by writing toyou-Why, you dear saucy-face, at this rate, you'll make every one thatconverses with you, better, and wiser, and _wittier_ too, as far as Iknow, than they ever before thought there was _room_ for 'em to be. 

As to my own part, I begin to like what I have written myself, Ithink; and your correspondence may revive the poetical ideas that usedto fire my mind, before I entered into the drowsy married life; for mygood Lord Davers's turn happens not to be to books; and so by degreesmy imagination was in a manner quenched, and I, as a dutiful wifeshould, endeavoured to form my taste by that of the man Ichose. --But, after all, Pamela, you are not to be a little proud of mycorrespondence; and I could not have thought it ever would have cometo this; but you will observe, that I am the more free and unreserved, to encourage _you_ to write without restraint: for already you havemade us a family of writers and readers; so that Lord Davers himselfis become enamoured of your letters, and desires of all things hemay hear read every one that passes between us. Nay, Jackey, for thatmatter, who was the most thoughtless, whistling, sauntering fellow youever knew, and whose delight in a book ran no higher than a song or acatch, now comes in with an enquiring face, and vows he'll set pento paper, and turn letter-writer himself; and intends (if my brotherwon't take it amiss, he says) to begin to _you_, provided he could besure of an answer. 

I have twenty things still to say; for you have unlocked all ourbosoms. And yet I intended not to write above ten or a dozen lineswhen I began; only to tell you, that I would have you take your ownway, in your subjects, and in your style. And if you will but give mehope, that you are in the way I so much wish to have you in, I willthen call myself your affectionate sister; but till then, it shallonly barely be _your correspondent_, B. DAVERS. You'll proceed with the account of your Kentish affair, Idoubt not. 

LETTER XIII

MY DEAR GOOD LADY, What kind, what generous things are you pleased to say of your happycorrespondent! And what reason have I to value myself on such anadvantage as is now before me, if I am capable of improving it as Iought, from a correspondence with so noble and so admired a lady!To be praised by such a genius, and my honoured benefactor's worthysister, whose favour, next to his, it was always my chief ambition toobtain, is what would be enough to fill with vanity a steadier and amore equal mind than mine. 

I have heard from my late honoured lady, what a fine pen her beloveddaughter was mistress of, when she pleased to take it up. But I nevercould have presumed, but from your ladyship's own motion, to hopeto be in any manner the subject of it, much less to be called yourcorrespondent. 

Indeed, Madam, I _am_ very proud of this honour, and consider it assuch a heightening to my pleasures, as only _that_ could give; and Iwill set about obeying your ladyship without reserve. 

But, first, permit me to disclaim any merit, from my own poorwritings, to that improvement which your goodness imputes to me. WhatI have to boast, of that sort, is owing principally, if it deservescommendation, to my late excellent lady. 

It is hard to be imagined what pains her ladyship took with her poorservant. Besides making me keep a book of her charities dispensed byme, I always set down, in my way, the cases of the distressed, theirgriefs from misfortunes, and their joys of her bountiful relief; andso I entered early into the various turns that affected worthy hearts, and was taught the better to regulate my own, especially by the helpof her fine observations, when I read what I wrote. For many a timehas her generous heart overflowed with pleasure at my remarks, andwith praises; and I was her good girl, her dear Pamela, her hopefulmaiden; and she would sometimes snatch my hand with transport, anddraw 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 bedeserving. 

O my dear lady! you cannot think what an encouragement thiscondescending behaviour and goodness was to me. Madam, you_cannot_ think it. 

I used to throw myself at her feet, and embrace her knees; and, myeyes 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 muchfreedom as I possibly _can_: for you must not expect, that I canentirely divest myself of that awe which will necessarily lay me undera greater restraint, than if writing to my parents, whose partialityfor their daughter made me, in a manner, secure of their goodopinions. 

To shorten the work before me, in the account I am to give of thesweet fortnight that we passed in Kent, I enclose not only the copy ofthe letter your ladyship requested, but my father's answer to it. 

The letters I sent before, and those I now send, will afford severalparticulars; such as a brief description of the house and farm, andyour honoured brother's intentions of retiring thither now-and-then;of the happiness and gratitude of my dear parents, and their wishes tobe able to deserve the comfort his goodness has heaped upon them; andthat in stronger lights than I am able to set them; I will only, in asummary manner, mention the rest; and, particularly, the behaviour ofmy dear benefactor to me, and my parents. He seemed always to delightin being particularly kind to them before strangers, and before thetenants, and before Mr. Sorby, Mr. Bennet, and Mr. Shepherd, three ofthe principal gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who, with their ladies, came to visit us, and whose visits we _all_ returned; for yourdear brother would not permit my father and mother to decline theinvitation of those worthy families. 

Every day we rode out, or walked a little about the grounds; and whilewe 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, heordered it to be planted like a grove, and a pretty alcove to beerected on its summit, of which he has sent them a draught, drawn byhis own hand. This and a few other alterations, mentioned in my letterto my father, are to be finished against we go down next. 

The dear gentleman was every hour pressing me, while there, to takeone 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 choosefor me: saying, he was half afraid that my constant compliance withevery thing he proposed, laid me sometimes under a restraint: and hewould have me have a will of my own, since it was impossible, that itcould be such as he should not take a delight in conforming to it. 

I will not trouble your ladyship with any further particulars relatingto this happy fortnight, which was made up all of white and uncloudeddays, to the very last; and your ladyship will judge better than I candescribe, of the parting between my dear parents, and their honouredbenefactor and me. 

We set out, attended with the good wishes of crowds of persons of alldegrees; for your dear brother left behind him noble instances of hisbounty; it being the _first_ time, as he bid Mr. Longman say, that hehad 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 termsupon which I was there, to what I should have been, had I gracelesslyaccepted of those which formerly were tendered to me; for yourladyship will remember, that the Kentish estate was to be part of thepurchase of my infamy. 

We returned through London, by the like easy journeys, but tarriednot to see any thing of that vast metropolis, any more than we didin going through it before; your beloved brother only stopping at hisbanker's, and desiring him to look out for a handsome house, which heproposes to take for his winter residence. He chooses it to be aboutthe new buildings called Hanover Square; and he left Mr. Longman thereto see one, which his banker believed would be fit for him. 

And thus, my dear lady, I have answered your first commands, by thehelp of the letters which passed between my dear parents and me; andconclude this with the assurance that I am, with high respect, _yourladyship's most obliged and 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 theaffair of the unfortunate Miss Godfrey, with my behaviour upon it; andthis I cannot do better, than by transcribing scribing the relation Igave at that time, in letters to my dear parents, which your ladyshiphas not seen, in these very words. 

[See Vol. I, p. 431, beginning "My dear Mr. B. , " down to p. 441. ]

Thus far, my dear lady, the relation I gave to my parents, at the timeof my being first acquainted with this melancholy affair. 

It is a great pleasure to me, that I can already flatter myself, fromthe hints you kindly gave me, that I behaved as you wished I shouldbehave. Indeed, Madam, I could not help it, for I pitied mostsincerely the unhappy lady; and though I could not but rejoice, thatI had had the grace to escape the dangerous attempts of the dearintriguer, yet never did the story of any unfortunate lady make suchan impression upon me as hers did: she loved _him_, and believed, nodoubt, he loved _her_ too well to take ungenerous advantages of hersoft passion for him: and so, by degrees, put herself into his power;and too seldom, alas I have the noblest-minded of the seducing sex themercy or the goodness to spare the poor creatures that do!

Then 'tis another misfortune of people in love; they always thinkhighly of the beloved object, and lowly of themselves, such a dismalmortifier is love!

I say not this, Madam, to excuse the poor lady's fall; nothing cando that; because virtue is, and ought to be, preferable to allconsiderations, and to life itself. But, methinks, I love this dearlady so well for the sake of her edifying penitence, that I wouldfain extenuate her crime, if I could; and the rather, as in allprobability, it was a _first love_ on _both_ sides; and so he couldnot appear to her as a _practised_ deceiver. 

Your ladyship will see, by what I have transcribed, how I behavedmyself to the dear Miss Goodwin; and I am so fond of the littlecharmer, as well for the sake of her unhappy mother, though personallyunknown to me, as for the relation she bears to the dear gentlemanwhom I am bound to love and honour, that I must beg your ladyship'sinterest to procure her to be given up to my care, when it shall bethought proper. I am sure I shall act by her as tenderly as if Iwas her own mother. And glad I am, that the poor unfaulty baby is sojustly beloved by Mr. B. 

But I will here conclude this letter, with assuring your ladyship, andI am _your obliged and humble servant, _

P. B. 

LETTER XV

MY GOOD 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 thepoor 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 lessto have left her in her place, and rewarded her. Alas! my dear lady, what could I do? a poor prisoner as I was made, for weeks together, inbreach of all the laws of civil society; without a soul who durst bemy friend; and every day expecting to be ruined and undone, by one ofthe haughtiest and most determined spirits in the world!--and when itpleased God to turn his heart, and incline him to abandon his wickedattempts, and to profess honourable love to me, his poor servant, canit 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 haveresumed all his wicked purposes against me?

Indeed, I was too much overjoyed, after all my dangers past (whichwere so great, that I could not go to rest, nor rise, but with suchapprehensions, that I wished for death rather than life), to think ofrefusing any terms that I could yield to, and keep my honour. 

And though such noble ladies, as your ladyship and Lady Betty, who areborn to independency, and are hereditarily, as I may say, on a footwith the highest-descended gentleman in the land, might have exerteda spirit, and would have a right to choose your own servants, and todistribute rewards and punishments to the deserving and undeserving, at your own good pleasure; yet what had I, a poor girl, who owed evenmy title to common notice, to the bounty of my late good lady, and hadonly a kind of imputed sightliness of person, though enough to makeme the subject of vile attempts; who, from a situation of terror andapprehension, was lifted up to an hope, beyond my highest ambition, and was bid to pardon the bad woman, as an instance, that I couldforgive his own hard usage of me; who had experienced so often theviolence and impetuosity of his temper, which even his beloved mothernever ventured to oppose till it began to subside, and then, indeed, he was all goodness and acknowledgment; of which I could give yourladyship more than one instance. 

What, I say, had I to do, to take upon me lady-airs, and to resent?But, my dear ladies (let me, in this instance, bespeak the attentionof you both), I should be inexcusable, if I did not tell you all thetruth; and that is, that I not only forgave the poor wretch, in regardto _his commands_, but from _my own inclination_ also. If I am wrongin saying this, I must submit it to your ladyships; and, as I pretendnot to perfection, am ready to take the blame I deserve in yourladyships' judgments: but indeed, were it to be again, I verily think, I could not help forgiving her. --And were I not able to say this, Ishould be thought to have made a mean court to my master's passions, and to have done a wrong thing with my eyes open: which I humblyconceive, no one should do. 

When full power was given me over this poor creature (seemingly atleast, though it might possibly have been resumed, and I might havebeen re-committed to hers, had I given him reason to think I made anarrogant use of it), you cannot imagine what a triumph I had in mymind over the mortified guilt, which (from the highest degree ofinsolence and imperiousness, that before had hardened her masculinefeatures) appeared in her countenance, when she found the tableslikely to be soon turned upon her. 

This change of behaviour, which at first discovered itself in a sullenawe, and afterwards in a kind of silent respect, shewed me, what aninfluence power had over her: and that when she could treat her lateprisoner, when taken into favour, so obsequiously, it was the lesswonder the bad woman could think it her duty to obey commands sounjust, when her obedience to them was required from her master. 

To be sure, if a look could have killed her, after some of her badtreatment, she had been slain over and over, as I may say: but tome, who was always taught to distinguish between the person andthe action, I could not hold my resentment against the poor passivemachine of mischief one day together, though her actions were soodious to me. 

I should indeed except that time of my grand trial when she appearedso much a wretch to me, that I saw her not (even after two days thatshe was kept from me) without great flutter and emotion of heart: andI had represented to your brother before, how hard a condition it wasfor me to forgive so much unwomanly wickedness. 

But, my dear ladies, when I considered the latter in _one_ particularlight, I could the more easily forgive her; and _having_ forgivenher, _bear her in my sight_, and act by her (as a consequence of thatforgiveness) as if she had not so horridly offended. Else how would ithave been forgiveness? especially as she was ashamed of her crime, andthere was no fear of her repeating it. 

Thus then I thought on the occasion: "Poor wretched agent, forpurposes little less than infernal! I _will_ forgive thee, since _thy_master and _my_ master will have it so. And indeed thou art beneaththe resentment even of such a poor girl as I. I will _pity_ thee, base and abject as thou art. And she who is the object of my _pity_ issurely beneath my _anger_. "

Such were then my thoughts, my proud thoughts, so far was I frombeing guilty of _intentional_ meanness in forgiving, at Mr. B. 'sinterposition, the poor, low, creeping, abject _self_-mortified, and_master_-mortified, Mrs. Jewkes. 

And do you think, ladies, when you revolve in your thoughts, _who_ Iwas, and _what_ I was, and what I had been _designed_ for; when yourevolve the amazing turn in my favour, and the prospects before me (somuch above my hopes, that I left them entirely to Providence to directfor me, as it pleased, without daring to look forward to what thoseprospects seemed naturally to tend); when I could see my haughtypersecutor become my repentant protector; the lofty spirit that usedto make me tremble, and to which I never could look up without awe, except in those animating cases, where his guilty attempts, and theconcern I had to preserve my innocence, gave a courage more thannatural to my otherwise dastardly heart: when this impetuous spiritcould stoop to request one whom he had sunk beneath even her usual lowcharacter of his servant, who was his prisoner, under sentence of aruin worse than death, as he had intended it, and had seized her forthat very purpose, could stoop to acknowledge the vileness of thatpurpose; could say, at one time, that my forgiveness of Mrs. Jewkesshould 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 dueto one he must love; at another, acknowledged before her, that hehad been stark naught, and that I was very forgiving; again, to Mrs. Jewkes, putting himself on a level with her, as to guilt, "We areboth in generous hands: and, indeed, if Pamela did not pardon _you_, I should think she but half forgave _me_, because you acted by myinstructions:" another time to the same, "We have been both sinners, and must be both included in one act of grace:"--when I was thuslifted up to the state of a sovereign forgiver, and my lordly masterbecame a petitioner for himself, and the guilty creature, whom he putunder my feet; what a triumph was here for the poor Pamela? and couldI have been guilty of so mean a pride, as to trample upon the poorabject creature, when I found her thus lowly, thus mortified, andwholly in my power?

Then, my dear ladies, while I was enjoying the soul-charming fruits ofthat innocence which the Divine Grace had enabled me to preserve, inspite of so many plots and contrivances on my master's side, and suchwicked instigations and assistances on hers, and all my prospects wereimproving upon me beyond my wishes; when all was unclouded sunshine, and I possessed my mind in peace, and had only to be thankful toProvidence, which had been so gracious to my unworthiness; when I sawmy persecutor become my protector, my active enemy no longer my enemy, but creeping with slow, doubtful feet, and speaking to me with awfulhesitating doubt of my acceptance; a stamp of an insolent footnow turned into curtseying half-bent knees; threatening hands intosupplicating folds; and the eye unpitying to innocence, runningover with the sense of her own guilt; a faltering accent on her latemenacing tongue, and uplifted handkerchief, "I see she will be mylady: and then I know how it will go with me!"--Was not this, myladies, a triumph of triumphs to the late miserable, now exalted, Pamela!--could I do less than pardon her? And having declared that Idid so, was I not to shew the sincerity of my declaration?

Would it not have shewn my master, that the low-born Pamela wasincapable of a generous action, had she refused the only request herhumble condition had given her the opportunity of granting, at thattime, with innocence? Would he not have thought the humble cottageras capable of insolence, and vengeance too, in her turn, as the betterborn? and that she wanted but the power, to shew the like unrelentingtemper, by which she had so grievously suffered? And might not thishave given him room to think me (and to have resumed and prosecutedhis purposes accordingly) fitter for an arrogant kept mistress, thanan humble and obliged wife!

"I see" (might he not have said?), "the girl has strong passions andresentments; and she that has, will be sometimes _governed_ by them. I will improve upon the hint she herself has now given me, by herinexorable temper: I will gratify her revenge, till I turn it uponherself: I will indulge her pride, till I make it administer toher 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) "ofthe better descended. And by a little perseverance, and watching herunguarded hours, and applying temptations to her passions, I shallfirst discover them, and then make my advantage of them. "

Might not this have been the language, and this the resolution, ofsuch a dear wicked intriguer?--For, my lady, you can hardly conceivethe struggles he apparently had to bring down his high spirit to sohumble a level. And though, I hope, all would have been, even in this_worst_ case, ineffectual, through Divine Grace, yet how do I knowwhat lurking vileness might have appeared by degrees in this frailheart, to encourage his designs, and to augment my trials and mydangers? And perhaps downright violence might have been used, if hecould not, on one hand, have subdued his passions, nor, on the other, have overcome his pride--a pride, that every one, reflecting upon thedisparity of birth and condition between us, would have dignified withthe name of _decency_; a pride that was become such an essential partof the dear gentleman's character, in this instance of a wife, thatalthough he knew he could not keep it up, if he made _me_ happy, yetit was no small motive of his choosing me, in one respect, because heexpected from me more humility, more submission, than he thought wouldbe paid him by a lady equally born and educated; and of this I willsend you an instance, in a transcription from that part of myjournal you have not seen, of his lessons to me, on my incurringhis displeasure by interposing between yourself and him in yourmisunderstanding at the Hall: for, Madam, I intend to send, at times, any thing I think worthy of your ladyship's attention, out of thosepapers you were so kind as to excuse me from sending you in a lump, and many of which must needs have appeared very impertinent to suchjudges. 

Thus (could your ladyship have thought it?) have I ventured upon astrange paradox, that even this strongest instance of his debasinghimself, is not the weakest of his pride: and he ventured once at SirSimon Darnford's to say, in your hearing, as you may remember, that, in his conscience, he thought he should hardly have made a tolerablehusband to any body but Pamela: and why? For the reasons you willsee in the inclosed papers, which give an account of the noblest andearliest curtain-lecture that ever girl had: one of which is, that heexpects to be _borne_ with (_complied_ with, he meant) even when inthe wrong: another, that a wife should never so much as expostulatewith him, though he was in the wrong, till, by complying with allhe insisted upon, she should have shewn him, she designed rather toconvince him, for his _own_ sake, than for _contradiction's_ sake; andthen, another time, perhaps he might take better resolutions. 

I hope, from what I have said, it will appear to your lady-ship, and to Lady Betty too, that I am justified, or at least excused, inpardoning Mrs. Jewkes. 

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 opportunitywhich I have to say as to these good effects: and am, in the meantime, _your ladyship's most obliged and faithful servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XVI

MY DEAR LADY, I will now acquaint you with the good effects my behaviour to Mrs. Jewkes has had upon her, as a farther justification of my conducttowards the poor woman. 

That she began to be affected as I wished, appeared to me before Ileft the Hall, not only in the conversations I had with her aftermy happiness was completed; but in her general demeanour also to theservants, to the neighbours, and in her devout behaviour at church:and this still further appears by a letter I have received from MissDarnford. I dare say your ladyship will be pleased with the perusalof the whole letter, although a part of it would answer my presentdesign; and in confidence, that you will excuse, for the sake of itsother beauties, the high and undeserved praises which she so lavishlybestows upon me, I will transcribe it all. 

_From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. _

"MY DEAR NEIGHBOUR THAT WAS, "I must depend upon your known goodness to excuse me for not writingbefore now, in answer to your letter of compliment to us, for thecivilities and favours, as you call them, which you received from usin Lincolnshire, where we were infinitely more obliged to you than youto us. 

"The truth is, my papa has been much disordered with a kind oframbling rheumatism, to which the physicians, learnedly speaking, givethe name of _arthritici vaga_, or the flying gout; and when he ailsever so little (it signifies nothing concealing his infirmities, wherethey are so well known, and when he cares not who knows them), he isso peevish, and wants so much attendance, that my mamma, and her twogirls (one of which is as waspish as her papa; you may be sure I don'tmean myself) have much ado to make his worship keep the peace; and Ibeing his favourite, when he is indisposed, having most patience, if Imay give myself a good word, he calls upon me continually, to read tohim when he is grave, which is not often, and to tell him stories, and sing to him when he is merry; and so I have been employed as aprincipal person about him, till I have frequently become sad to makehim cheerful, and happy when I could do it at any rate. For once, ina pet, he flung a book at my head, because I had not attended him fortwo hours, and he could not bear to be slighted by little bastards, that was his word, that were fathered upon him for his vexation! Othese men! Fathers or husbands, much alike! the one tyrannical, theother insolent: so that, between one and t'other, a poor girl hasnothing for it, but a few weeks' courtship, and perhaps a firstmonth's bridalry, if that: and then she is as much a slave to herhusband, as she was a vassal to her father--I mean if the father be aSir Simon Darnford, and the spouse a Mr. B. 

"But I will be a little more grave; for a graver occasion calls forit, yet such as will give you real pleasure. It is the very greatchange that your example has had upon your housekeeper. 

"You desired her to keep up as much regularity as she could among theservants there; and she is next to exemplary in it, so that she hasevery 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, andparticularly for herself, that you came into Lincolnshire. She readsprayers, or makes one of the servants read them, every Sunday night;and never misses being at church, morning and afternoon; and ispreparing herself, by Mr. Peters's advice and direction, for receivingthe sacrament; which she earnestly longs to receive, and says it willbe the seal of her reformation. 

"Mr. Peters gives us this account of her, and says she is full ofcontrition for her past mis-spent life, and is often asking him, ifsuch and such sins can be forgiven? and among them, names her vilebehaviour to her angel lady, as she calls you. 

"It seems she has written a letter to you, which passed Mr. Peters'srevisal, before she had the courage to send it; and prides herselfthat you have favoured her with an answer to it, which, she says, whenshe 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 herkeep her good purposes: and for that reason she places it there; andwhen she has had any bad thoughts, or is guilty of any faulty word, or passionate expression, she recollects her lady's letter, whichrecovers her to a calm, and puts her again into a better frame. 

"As she has written to you 'tis possible I might have spared youthe trouble of reading this account of her; but yet you will notbe displeased, that so free a liver and speaker should have sometestimonial besides her own assurances, to vouch for the sincerity ofher reformation. 

"What a happy lady are you, that persuasion dwells upon your tongue, and reformation follows your example!"

Your ladyship will forgive me what may appear like vanity in thiscommunication. Miss Darnford is a charming young lady. I alwaysadmired her; but her letters are the sweetest, kindest!--Yet I am toomuch the subject of her encomiums, and so will say no more; but addhere a copy of the poor woman's letter to me; and your ladyship willsee what an ample correspondence you have opened to yourself, if yougo on to countenance it. 

"HONOURED MADAM, "I have been long labouring under two difficulties; the desire I hadto write to you, and the fear of being thought presumptuous if I did. But I will depend on your goodness, so often tried; and put pen topaper, in that very closet, and on that desk, which once were so muchused by yourself, when I was acting a part that now cuts me to theheart to think of. But you forgave me. Madam, and shewed me youhad too much goodness to revoke your forgiveness; and could I havesilenced the reproaches of my heart, I should have had no cause tothink I had offended. 

"But, Oh I Madam, how has your goodness to me, which once filled mewith so much gladness, now, on reflection, made me sorrowful, and attimes, miserable. --To think I should act so barbarously as I did, by so much sweetness, and so much forgiveness. Every place that Iremember to have used you hardly in, how does it now fill me withsadness, and makes me often smite my breast, and sit down with tearsand groans, bemoaning my vile actions, and my hard heart!--How manyplaces are there in this melancholy fine house, that call one thing orother to my remembrance, that give me remorse! But the pond, and thewoodhouse, whence I dragged you so mercilously, after I had driven youto despair almost, what thoughts do they bring to my remembrance! Thenmy wicked instigations. --What an odious wretch was I!

"Had his honour been as abandoned as myself, what virtue had beendestroyed between _his_ orders and _my_ too rigorous execution ofthem; 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 tome, but with no effect at all, so resolutely wicked was my heart) haveso well obeyed in his unlawful commands!

"His honour has made you amends, has done justice to your merits, andso atoned for _his_ fault. But as for _me_, it is out of my power everto make reparation. --All that is left me, is, to let your ladyshipsee, that your pious example has made such an impression upon me, thatI am miserable now in the reflection upon my past guilt. 

"_You_ have forgiven me, and _GOD_ will, I hope; for the creaturecannot be more merciful than the Creator; that is all my hope!--Yet, sometimes, I dread that I am forgiven here, at least not punished, inorder to be punished the more hereafter!--What then will become ofthe unhappy wretch, that has thus lived in a state of sin, and soqualified herself by a course of wickedness, as to be thought a properinstrument for the worst of purposes!

"Pray your ladyship, let not my honoured master see this letter. Hewill think I have the boldness to reflect upon him: when, God knows myheart, I only write to condemn myself, and my _unwomanly_ actions, asyou were pleased often most justly to call them. 

"But I might go on thus for ever accusing myself, not considering whomI am writing to, and whose precious time I am taking up. But what Ichiefly write for is, to beg your ladyship's prayers for me. For, oh!Madam, I fear I shall else be ever miserable! We every week hearof the good you do, and the charity you extend to the bodies of themiserable. Extend, I beseech you, good Madam, to the unhappy Jewkes, the mercy of your prayers, and tell me if you think I have not sinnedbeyond hope of pardon; for there is a woe denounced against thepresumptuous sinner. 

"Your ladyship assured me, at your departure, on the confession of myremorse for my misdoings, and my promise of amendment, that you wouldtake it for proof of my being in earnest, if I would endeavour to keepup a regularity among the servants here; if I would subdue them withkindness, as I had owned myself subdued; and if I would endeavour tomake every one think, that the best security they could give of doingtheir duty to their master in his _absence_, was by doing it toGod Almighty, from whose all-seeing eye nothing can be hid. This, Iremember, your ladyship told me, was the best test of fidelity andduty, that any servants could shew; since it was impossible, withoutreligion, but that worldly convenience, or self-interest, must be themain tie; and so the worst actions might succeed, if servants thoughtthey should find their sordid advantage in sacrificing their duty. 

"So well am I convinced of this truth, that I hope I have begun theexample to good effect: and as no one in the family was so wicked asI, it was therefore less difficult to reform them; and you will havethe pleasure to know, that you have now servants here, whom you neednot be ashamed to call yours. 

"'Tis true, I found it a little difficult at first to keep them withinsight of their duty, after your ladyship departed: but when they saw Iwas in earnest, and used them courteously, as you advised, and as yourusage of me convinced me was the rightest usage; when they were toldI had your commands to acquaint you how they conformed to yourinjunctions; the task became easy: and I hope we shall all be stillmore and more worthy of the favour of so good a lady and so bountifula master. 

"I dare not presume upon the honour of a line to your unworthyservant. Yet it would pride me much, if I could have it. But I shallever pray for your ladyship's and his honour's felicity, as becomes_your undeserving servant_, "K. JEWKES. "

I have already, with these transcribed letters of Miss Darnford andMrs. Jewkes, written a great deal: but nevertheless, as there yetremains one passage in your ladyship's letter, relating to Mrs. Jewkes, that seems to require an answer, I will take notice of it, ifI 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 youinto her power; and no doubt, employed her, because he was sure shewould answer all his purposes: and therefore she should have had verylittle opinion of the sincerity of his reformation, while he was sosolicitous in keeping her there. 

She would, she says, had she been in your case, have had one strugglefor her dismission, let it have been taken as it would; and he thatwas so well pleased with your virtue, must have thought this a naturalconsequence of it, if in earnest to become virtuous himself. 

But, alas! Madam, he was not so well pleased with my virtue forvirtue'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 somuch as _pretend_ to any disposition to virtue. No, not he!

He had entertained, as it proved, a strong passion for me, which hadbeen heightened by my _resisting_ it. His pride, and his advantagesboth of person and fortune, would not let him brook control; and whenhe could not have me upon his own terms, God turned his evil purposesto good ones; and he resolved to submit to mine, or rather to such ashe found I would not yield to him without. 

But Lady Betty thinks, I was to blame to put Mrs. Jewkes upon a foot, in the present I made on my nuptials, with Mrs. Jervis. But I ratherput Mrs. Jervis on a foot with Mrs. Jewkes; for the dear gentleman had_named_ the sum for me to give Mrs. Jewkes, and I would not give Mrs. Jervis _less_, because I loved her better; nor _more_ could I giveher, on that occasion, without making such a difference between twopersons equal in station, on a solemnity too where one was present andassisting, the other not, as would have shewn such a partiality, asmight have induced their master to conclude, I was not so sincere inmy forgiveness, as he hoped from me, and as I really was. 

But a stronger reason still was behind; that I could, much moreagreeably, both to Mrs. Jervis and myself, shew my love and gratitudeto the dear good woman: and this I have taken care to do, in themanner I will submit to your ladyship; at the tribunal of whosejudgment I am willing all my actions, respecting your dear brother, shall be tried. And I hope you will not have reason to think me atoo 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, Iwill endeavour to save it in another. 

But I will make what I have to say on this head the subject of aletter by itself: and am, mean time, _your ladyship's most obliged andobedient servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XVII

MY DEAR LADY, It is needful, in order to let you more intelligibly into the subjectwhere I left off in my last, for your ladyship to know that yourgenerous brother has made me his almoner, as I was my late dearlady's; and ordered Mr. Longman to pay me fifty pounds quarterly, forpurposes of which he requires no account, though I have one alwaysready to produce. 

Now, Madam, as I knew Mrs. Jervis was far from being easy in hercircumstances, thinking herself obliged to pay old debts for twoextravagant children, who are both dead, and maintaining in schoolingand clothes three of their children, which always keeps her bare, Isaid to her one day, as she and I sat together, at our needles (forwe are always running over old stories, when alone)--"My good Mrs. Jervis, will you allow me to ask you after your own private affairs, and if you are tolerably, easy in them?"

"You are very good, Madam, " said she, "to concern yourself about mypoor matters, so much as your thoughts are employed, and every momentof your time is taken up, from the hour you rise, to the time of yourrest. But I can with great pleasure attribute it to your bounty, andthat of my honoured master, that I am easier and easier every day. "

"But tell me, my dear Mrs. Jervis, " said I, "how your matters_particularly_ stand. I love to mingle concerns with my friends, and as I hide nothing from _you_, I hope you'll treat me with equalfreedom; for I always loved you, and always will; and nothing butdeath shall divide our friendship. "

She had tears of gratitude in her eyes, and taking off her spectacles, "I cannot bear, " she said, "so much goodness!--Oh! my lady!"

"Oh! my Pamela, say, " replied I. "How often must I chide you forcalling me any thing but your Pamela, when we are alone together?"

"My heart, " said she, "will burst with your goodness! I cannot bearit!"

"But you _must_ bear it, and bear still greater exercises to yourgrateful heart, I can tell you that. A pretty thing, truly! Here I, apoor helpless girl, raised from poverty and distress by the generosityof the best of men, only because I was young and sightly, shall puton lady-airs to a gentlewoman born, the wisdom of whose years, herfaithful services, and good management, make her a much greater meritin this family, than I can pretend to have! And shall I return, inthe day of my power, insult and haughtiness for the kindness andbenevolence I received from her in that of my indigence!--Indeed, I won't forgive you, my dear Mrs. Jervis, if I think you capable oflooking upon me in any other light than as your daughter; for you havebeen a mother to me, when the absence of my own could not afford methe comfort and good counsel I received every day from you. "

Then moving my chair nearer, and taking her hand, and wiping, with myhandkerchief in my other, her reverend cheek, "Come, my dear secondmother, " said I, "call me your daughter, your Pamela: I have passedmany sweet hours with you under that name; and as I have but tooseldom such an opportunity as this, open to me your worthy heart, andlet me know, if I cannot make my _second_ mother as easy and happy asour dear master has made my _first_. "

She hung her head, and I waited till the discharge of her tears gavetime for utterance to her words; provoking only her speech, by saying, "You used to have three grand-children to provide for in clothes andschooling. They are all living, I hope?"

"Yes, Madam, they are living: and your last bounty (twenty guineas wasa 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 unhappysons; five to a second; and two and a half to two others, inproportion to their respective demands; and with the other five I paidoff all arrears of the poor children's schooling and maintenance;and all are satisfied and easy, and declare they will never do harshthings by me, if they are paid no more. "

"But tell me, Mrs. Jervis, the whole you owe in the world; and you andI will contrive, with justice to our best friend, to do all we can tomake you quite easy; for, at your time of life, I cannot bear that youshall have any thing to disturb you, which I can remove, and so, mydear 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 friendlypick-pocket; let me take out your memorandum-book, and we will see howall matters stand, and what can be done. Come, I see you are too muchmoved; your worthy heart is too much affected" (pulling out her book, which she always had about her); "I will go to my closet, and returnpresently. "

So I left her, to recover her spirits, and retired with the goodwoman'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 tome:--"What ails the good woman below, my dear?" said he: "I hope youand she have had no words?"

"No, indeed, Sir, " answered I. "If we had, I am sure it would havebeen my fault: but I have picked her pocket of her memorandum-book, in order to look into her private affairs, to see if I cannot, withjustice to our common benefactor, make her as easy as you. Sir, havemade my other dear parents. "

"A blessing, " said he, "upon my charmer's benevolent heart!--I willleave every thing to your discretion, my dear. --Do all the good youprudently can to your Mrs. Jervis. "

I clasped my bold arms about him, the starting tear testifying mygratitude. --"Dearest Sir, " said I, "you affect me as much as I didMrs. Jervis; and if any one but you had a right to ask, what ails yourPamela? as you do, what ails Mrs. Jervis? I must say, I am hourlyso much oppressed by your goodness, that there is hardly any bearingone's own joy. "

He saluted me, and said, I was a dear obliging creature. "But, " saidhe, "I came to tell you, that after dinner we'll take a turn, if youplease, to Lady Arthur's: she has a family of London friends for herguests, and begs I will prevail upon you to give her your company, andattend you myself, only to drink tea with her; for I have told her weare to have friends to sup with us. "

"I will attend you, Sir, " replied I, "most willingly; although I doubtI am to be made a shew of. "

"Something like it, " said he, "for she has promised them this favour. "

"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 Iran over Mrs. Jervis's accounts, and found a balance drawn of all hermatters in one leaf, and a thankful acknowledgment to God, for hermaster's last bounty, which had enabled her to give satisfaction toothers, and to do herself great pleasure, written underneath. 

The balance of all was thirty-five pounds eleven shillings and oddpence; and I went to my escritoir, and took out forty pounds, and downI hasted to my good Mrs. Jervis, and I said to her, "Here, my deargood friend, is your pocket-book; but are thirty-five or thirty-sixpounds all you owe, or are bound for in the world?"

"It is, Madam, " said she, "and enough too. It is a great sum; but 'tisin four hands, and they are all in pretty good circumstances, and soconvinced of my honesty, that they will never trouble me for it; forI have reduced the debt every year something, since I have been in mymaster's service. "

"Nor shall it 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, and made her sit by me. "Here, my dear Mrs. Jervis, isforty pounds. It is not so much to me now, as the two guineas were toyou, that you would have given me at my going away from this house tomy father's, as I thought. I will not _give_ it you neither, at leastat _present_, as you shall hear: indeed I won't make you so uneasy asthat comes to. But take this, and pay the thirty-five pounds odd moneyto the utmost farthing; and the remaining four pounds odd will be alittle fund in advance towards the children's schooling. And thusyou shall repay it; I always designed, as our dear master added fiveguineas per annum to your salary, in acknowledgement of the pleasurehe took in your services, when I was Pamela Andrews, to add fivepounds per annum to it from the time I became Mrs. B. But from thattime, for so many years to come, you shall receive no more than youdid, 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: and I will have leavefor it, for fear I should die. "

Had your ladyship seen the dear good woman's behaviour, on thisoccasion, you would never have forgotten it. She could not speak;tears ran down her cheeks in plentiful currents: her modest hand putgently from her my offering hand, her bosom heav'd, and she sobb'dwith 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, and kissing her cheek, she cried, "My excellent lady! 'tis too much!I cannot bear all this. "--She then threw herself at my feet; for Iwas not strong enough to hinder it; and with uplifted hands--"May GodAlmighty, " said she--I kneeled by her, and clasping her hands in mine, both uplifted together--"May God Almighty, " said I, drowning her voicewith my louder voice, "bless us both together, for many happy years!And bless and reward the dear gentleman, who has thus enabled me tomake _the widow's heart to sing for joy!_"

And thus, my lady, did I force upon the good woman's acceptance theforty pounds. 

Permit me, Madam, to close this letter here, and to resume the subjectin my next: till when I have the honour to be _your ladyship's mostobliged and faithful servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XVIII

MY DEAR LADY, I now resume my last subject where I left off, that your ladyship mayhave the whole before you at one view. 

I went after dinner, with my dear benefactor, to Lady Arthur's; andmet with fresh calls upon me for humility, having the two naturaleffects of the praises and professed admiration of that lady's guests, as well as my dear Mr. B. 's, and those of Mr. And Mrs. Arthur, toguard myself against: and your good brother was pleased to entertainme in the chariot, going and coming, with an account of the orders hehad given in relation to the London house, which is actuallytaken, and the furniture he should direct for it; so that I had noopportunity to tell him what I had done in relation to Mrs. Jervis. 

But after supper, retiring from company to my closet, when his friendswere gone, he came up to me about our usual bedtime: he enquiredkindly after my employment, which was trying to read in the FrenchTelemachus: for, my lady, I'm learning French, I'll assure you! Andwho, do you think, is my master?--Why, the best I _could_ have in theworld, your dearest brother, who is pleased to say, I am no dunce: howinexcusable should I be, if I was, with such a master, who teaches meon his knee, and rewards me with a kiss whenever I do well, and says, I have already nearly mastered the accent and pronunciation, which hetells me is a great difficulty got over. 

I requested him to render for me into English two or three places thatwere beyond my reach; and when he had done it, he asked me, in French, what I had done for Mrs. Jervis. 

I said, "Permit me, Sir (for I am not proficient enough to answeryou in my new tongue), in English, to say, I have made the good womanquite happy; and if I have your approbation, I shall be as much somyself 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 aheart 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, howshall I look at you again; how see, as I proceed, whether you aredispleased? for you will not chide me in words, so partial have youthe 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 theforty pounds. --"And now, dear Sir, " said I, half hiding my face on hisshoulder, "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 futuredirection and caution. "

He raised my head, and kissed me two or three times, saying, "Thusthen I chide, I beat, my angel!--And yet I have one fault to find withyou, and let Mrs. Jervis, if not in bed, come up to us, and hear whatit is; for I will _expose_ you, as you deserve before her. "--My Pollybeing in hearing, attending to know if I wanted her assistance toundress, I bade her call Mrs. Jervis. And though I thought from hiskind looks, and kind words, as well as tender behaviour, that I hadnot much to fear, yet I was impatient to know what my fault was, forwhich I was to be exposed. 

The good woman came; and as she entered with all that modesty whichis so graceful in her, he moved his chair further from me, and, witha set aspect, but not unpleasant, said, "Step in, Mrs. Jervis: yourlady" (for so, Madam, he will always call me to Mrs. Jervis, and tothe servants) "has incurred my censure, and I would not tell her inwhat, till I had you face to face. "

She looked surprised--now on me, now on her dear master; and I, notknowing what he would say, looked a little attentive. "I am sorry--Iam very sorry for it, Sir, " said she, curtseying low:--"but should bemore sorry, if _I_ were the unhappy occasion. "

"Why, Mrs. Jervis, I can't say but it is on your account that I mustblame her. "

This gave us both confusion, but especially the good woman; for stillI hoped much from his kind behaviour to me just before--and she said, "Indeed, Sir, I could never deserve----"

He interrupted her--"My charge against you, Pamela, " said he, "is thatof niggardliness, and no other; for I will put you both out of yourpain: you ought not to have found out the method of repayment. 

"The dear creature, " said he, to Mrs. Jervis, "seldom does any thingthat can be mended; but, I think, when your good conduct deserved anannual acknowledgment from me, in addition to your salary, the ladyshould have shewed herself no less pleased with your service than thegentleman. Had it been for old acquaintance-sake, for sex-sake, sheshould not have given me cause to upbraid her on this head. But I willtell you, that you must look upon the forty pounds you have, as theeffect of just distinction on many accounts: and your salary from lastquarter-day shall be advanced, as the dear niggard intended it someyears hence; and let me only add, that when my Pamela first beginsto shew a coldness to her Mrs. Jervis, I shall then suspect she isbeginning to decline in that humble virtue, which is now peculiar toherself 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, was he pleasedto _act_: and what could Mrs. Jervis or I say to him?--Why, indeed, nothing at all!--We could only look upon one another, with our eyesand our hearts full of a gratitude that would not permit either ofus to speak, but which expressed itself at last in a manner he waspleased to call more elegant than words--with uplifted folded hands, and tears of joy. 

O my dear lady! how many opportunities have the beneficent _rich_ tomake _themselves_, as well as their _fellow-creatures_, happy! Allthat I could think, or say, or act, was but my duty before; what asense of obligation then must I lie under to this most generous ofmen!

But here let me put an end to this tedious subject; the principalpart of which can have no excuse, if it may not serve as a proof ofmy cheerful compliance with your ladyship's commands, that I recite_every_ thing of concern to me, and with the same freedom as I used todo to my dear parents. 

I have done it, and at the same time offered what I had to plead inbehalf of my conduct to the two housekeepers, which you expected fromme; and I shall therefore close this my humble defence, if I may socall it, with the assurance that I am, _my dearest lady, your obligedand faithful servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XIX

_From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. In answer to the six last Letters. _

"_Where she had it, I can't tell I but I think I never met withthe fellow of her in my life, at any age_;" are, as I remember, mybrother's words, speaking of his Pamela in the early part of yourpapers. In truth, thou art a surprising creature; and every letter wehave 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 aboutMrs. Jervis, "I will not soon set out to hit this charming girl a boxof the ear or two?"--"For what, Lady Davers?" said she. 

"For what!" replied I. --"Why, don't you see how many slaps of the facethe bold slut hits me! _I'll_ LADY-AIRS her! I will. _I'll_ teachher to reproach me, and so many of her betters, with her cottageexcellencies, and improvements, that shame our education. "

Why, you dear charming Pamela, did you only excel me in _words_, Icould forgive you: for there may be a knack, and a volubility, as to_words_, that a natural talent may supply; but to be thus out-done in_thought_ and in _deed_, who can bear it? And in so young an insultertoo!

Well, Pamela, look to it, when I see you: you shall feel the weightof my 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 I wouldbe, to call _you_ sister, I shall be forced to think, in a littlewhile, that you ought not to own _me as yours_, till I am nearer yourstandard. 

But to come to business, I will summarily take notice of the followingparticulars in all your obliging letters, in order to convince you ofmy friendship, by the freedom of my observations on the subjects youtouch upon. 

First, then, I am highly pleased with what you write of the advantagesyou received from the favour of my dear mother; and as you know manythings of her by your attendance upon her the last three or four yearsof her life, I must desire you will give me, as opportunity shalloffer, all you can recollect in relation to the honoured lady, and ofher behaviour and kindness to you, and with a retrospect to your ownearly beginnings, the dawnings of this your bright day of excellence:and this not only I, but the countess, and Lady Betty, with whom I amgoing over your papers again, and her sister, Lady Jenny, request ofyou. 

2. I am much pleased with your Kentish account; though we wished youhad been more particular in some parts of it; for we are greatly takenwith your descriptions: and your conversation pieces: yet I own, yourhonest father's letters, and yours, a good deal supply that _defect_. 

3. I am highly delighted with your account of my brother's breakingto you the affair of Sally Godfrey, and your conduct upon it. 'Tis asweet story as he brought it in, and as you relate it. The wretchhas been very just in his account of it. We are in love with yourcharitable reflections in favour of the poor lady; and the more, asshe certainly deserved them, and a better mother too than she had, anda faithfuller lover than she met with. 

4. You have exactly hit his temper in your declared love of MissGoodwill. I see, child, you know your man; and never fear but you'llhold him, if you can go on thus to act, and outdo your sex. But Ishould think you might as well not insist upon having her with you;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. 

5. You have satisfactorily answered our objections to your behaviourto Mrs. Jewkes. We had not considered your circumstances quite sothoroughly as we ought to have done. You are a charming girl, and allyour motives are so just, that we shall be a little more cautious forthe future how we censure you. 

In short, I say with the countess, "This good girl is not withouther pride; but it is the pride that becomes, and can only attend theinnocent heart; and I'll warrant, " said her ladyship, "nobody willbecome her station so well, as one who is capable of so worthy a prideas this. "

But what a curtain-lecture hadst thou, Pamela! A noble one, dost thoucall it?--Why, what a wretch hast thou got, to expect thou shouldstnever expostulate against his lordly will, even when in the wrong, till thou hast obeyed it, and of consequence, joined in the evil heimposes!

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 thoseprinciples. 

6. I am pleased with your promise of sending what you think Ishall like to see, out of those papers you choose not to shew mecollectively: this is very obliging. You're a good girl; and I loveyou dearly. 

7. We have all smiled at your paradox, Pamela, that his marrying youwas an instance of his pride. --The thought, though, is pretty enough, and ingenious; but whether it will hold or not, I won't just nowexamine. 

8. Your observation on the _forget_ and _forgive_ we are much pleasedwith. 

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 ofher merit; her letter abundantly confirms me in it. I hope you'llcommunicate to me every letter that passes between you, and pray sendin your next a copy of your answer to her letter: I must insist uponit, I think. 

10. I am glad, with all my heart, to hear of poor Jewkes'sreformation: Your example carries all before it. But pray oblige mewith your answer to her letter, don't think me unreasonable: 'tis allfor your sake. 

Pray--have you shewn Jewkes's letter to your good friend?--Lady Bettywants 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 heought: but, as you say, he's above loving virtue for _virtue's sake_. 

11. Your manner of acting by Mrs. Jervis, with so handsome a regard tomy brother's interest, her behaviour upon it, and your relation ofthe whole, and of his generous spirit in approving, reproving, andimproving, your prudent generosity, make no inconsiderable figure inyour papers. And Lady Betty says, "Hang him, he has some excellentqualities too. --It is impossible not to think well of him; and hisgood actions go a great way towards atoning for his bad. " But you, Pamela, have the glory of all. 

12. I am glad you are learning French: thou art a happy girl in thyteacher, and he is a happy man in his scholar. We are pleased withyour pretty account of his method of instructing and rewarding. 'Twould be strange, if you did not thus learn any language quickly, with such encouragements, from the man you love, were your genius lessapt than it is. But we wished you had enlarged on that subject: forsuch fondness of men to their wives, who have been any time married, is so rare, and so unexpected from _my_ brother, that we thought youshould have written a side upon that subject at least. 

What a bewitching girl art thou! What an exemplar to wives now, aswell as thou wast before to maidens! Thou canst tame lions, Idare say, if thoud'st try. --Reclaim a rake in the meridian of hislibertinism, and make such an one as my brother, not only marry thee, but love thee better at several months' end, than he did the firstday, if possible!

Now, my dear Pamela, I think I have taken notice of the most materialarticles in your letters, and have no more to say to you; but writeon, and oblige us; and mind to send me the copy of your letter to MissDarnford, of that you wrote to poor penitent Jewkes, and every articleI have written about, and all that comes into your head, or thatpasses, and you'll oblige _yours, &c, _

B. DAVERS. 

LETTER XX

MY DEAR LADY, I read with pleasure your commands, in your last kind and obligingletter: and you may be sure of a ready obedience in every one of them, that is in my power. 

That which I can most easily do, I will first do; and that is, totranscribe 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 begin now to be afraid I shall not have the pleasure and benefit Ipromised myself of passing a fortnight or three weeks at the Hall, inyour sweet conversation, and that of your worthy family, as wellas those others in your agreeable neighbourhood, whom I must alwaysremember with equal honour and delight. 

"The occasion will be principally, that we expect, very soon, Lord andLady Davers, who propose to tarry here a fortnight at least; and afterthat, the advanced season will carry us to London, where Mr. B. Has taken a house for his winter residence, and in order to attendparliament: a service he says, which he has been more deficient inhitherto, than he can either answer to his constituents, or to his ownconscience; for though he is but one, yet if any good motion should belost by one, every absent member, who is independent, has to reproachhimself with the consequence of the loss of that good which mightotherwise redound to the commonwealth. And besides, he says, suchexcuses as he could make, _every one_ might plead; and then publicaffairs might as well be left to the administration, and no parliamentbe chosen. 

"See you, my dear Miss Darnford, from the humble cottager, what apublic person your favourite friend is grown! How easy is it for abold mind to look forward, and, perhaps, forgetting what she was, nowshe imagines she has a stake in the country, takes upon herself to beas important, as significant, as if, like my dear Miss Darnford, shehad been born to it!

"Well; but may I not ask, whether, if the mountain cannot come toMahomet, Mahomet will not come to the mountain? Since Lady Davers'svisit is so uncertain as to its beginning and duration, and so greata favour as I am to look upon it, and really shall, it being her firstvisit to _me_:--and since we must go and take possession of our Londonresidence, why can't Sir Simon spare to us the dear lady whom he coulduse hardly, and whose attendance (though he is indeed entitled to allher 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 inpresence 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 didnot come _soon enough_ to you, she came _too soon_! And did ever papabefore you put a _good book_ (for such I doubt not it was, _because_you were in affliction, though so little affected by its precepts) tosuch a _bad use_? As parents' examples are so prevalent, suppose yourdaughter had taken it, and flung it at her sister; Miss Nancy at herwaiting-maid; and so it had gone through the family; would it not havebeen an excuse for every one to say, that the father, and head of thefamily had set the example?

"'You almost wish, my dear Miss tells me, that I would undertake_you_!--This is very good of you. Sir Simon, ' I might (would hispatience have suffered me to run on thus) have added; 'but I hope, since you are so sensible that you _want_ to be undertaken, (andsince this peevish rashness convinces me that you _do_) that youwill undertake _yourself_; that you will not, when your indispositionrequires the attendance and duty of your dear lady and daughter, make it more uncomfortable to them, by _adding_ a difficulty of beingpleased, and an impatience of spirit, to the concern their duty andaffection make them have for you; and, _at least_, resolve never totake a book into your hand again, if you cannot make a better use ofit, than you did then. '

"But Sir Simon will say, I have _already undertaken_ him, were he tosee this. Yet my Lady Darnford once begged I would give him a hint ortwo on this subject, which, she was pleased to say, would be betterreceived from me than from any body: and if it be a little too severe, it is but a just reprisal made by one whose ears, he knows, he hascruelly wounded more than once, twice, or thrice, besides, by whathe calls his _innocent_ double entendres, and who, if she had notresented it, when an opportunity offered, must have been believed, byhim, to be neither more nor less than a hypocrite. There's for you, Sir Simon: and so here ends all my malice; for now I have spoken mymind. 

"Yet I hope your dear papa will not be so angry as to deny me, forthis my freedom, the request I make to _him_, to your _mamma_, andto your _dear self_, for your beloved company, for a month or two inBedfordshire, and at London: and if you might be permitted to winterwith us at the latter, how happy should I be! It will be half done themoment you desire it. Sir Simon loves you too well to refuse you, ifyou are earnest in it. Your honoured mamma is always indulgent toyour requests: and Mr. B. As well in kindness to me, as for the greatrespect he bears you, joins with me to beg this favour of you, and ofSir Simon and my lady. 

"If it can be obtained, what pleasure and improvement may I notpropose to myself, with so polite a companion, when we are carried byMr. B. To the play, the opera, and other of the town diversions! Wewill work, visit, read, and sing together, and improve one another;you _me_, in every word you shall speak, in every thing you shall do;I _you_, by my questions, and desire of information, which will makeyou open all your breast to me: and so unlocking that dear storehouseof virtuous knowledge, improve your own notions the more forcommunicating them. O my dear Miss Damford I how happy is it in yourpower to make me!

"I am much affected with your account of Mrs. Jewkes's reformation, I could have wished, had I not _other_ and _stronger_ inducements(in the pleasure of so agreeable a neighbourhood, and so sweet acompanion), I could have been down at the Hall, in hopes to haveconfirmed the poor woman in her newly assumed penitence. God give hergrace to persevere in it!--To be an humble means of saving a soul fromperdition! O my dear Miss Darnford, let me enjoy that heart-ravishinghope!--To pluck such a brand as this out of the fire, and to assist toquench its flaming susceptibility for mischief, and make it useful toedifying purposes, what a pleasure does this afford one! How does itencourage one to proceed in the way one has been guided to pursue!How does it make me hope, that I am raised to my present condition, in order to be an humble instrument in the hand of Providence tocommunicate great good to others, and so extend to many those benefitsI have received, which, were they to go no further than myself, what avile, what an ungrateful creature should I be!

"I see, my dearest Miss Darnford, how useful in every condition oflife a virtuous and a serious turn of mind may be!

"In hopes of seeing you with us, I will not enlarge on severalagreeable subjects, which I could touch upon with pleasure, besideswhat I gave you in my former (of my reception here, and of thekindness of our genteel neighbours): such, particularly, as thearrival here of my dear parents, and the kind, generous entertainmentthey met with from my best friend; his condescension in not onlypermitting me to attend them to Kent, but accompanying us thither, andsettling them in a most happy manner, beyond their wishes and myown; but yet so much in character, as I may say, that every one mustapprove his judicious benevolence; the favours of my good Lady Daversto me, who, pleased with my letters, has vouchsafed to become mycorrespondent; and a thousand things, which I want personally tocommunicate to my dear Miss Darnford. 

"Be pleased to present my humble respects to Lady Darnford, and toMiss Nancy; to good Madam Jones, and to your kind friends at Stamford;also to Mr. And Mrs. Peters, and their kins-woman: and beg of thatgood gentleman from me to encourage his new proselyte all he can; andI doubt not, she will do credit, poor woman! to the pains he shalltake with her. In hopes of your kind compliance with my wishes foryour company, I remain, _dearest Miss Darnford, your faithful andobliged 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 putme 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 mywishes. Your ladyship will excuse me for so faintly mentioning thehonours you confer upon me: but I would not either add or diminish inthe communications I make to you. 

The following is the copy of what I wrote to Mrs. Jewkes:

"You give me, Mrs. Jewkes, very great pleasure, to find, that, atlength, God Almighty has touched your heart, and let you see, whilehealth and strength lasted, the error of your ways. Many an unhappyone has not been so graciously touched, till they have smarted undersome heavy afflictions, or been confined to the bed of sickness, when, perhaps, they have made vows and resolutions, that have held them nolonger than the discipline lasted; but you give me much better hopesof the sincerity of your conversion; as you are so well convinced, before some sore evil has overtaken you: and it ought to be an earnestto 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; sinceyour usage of me, as it proved, was but a necessary means in the handof Providence, to exalt me to that state of happiness, in which I haveevery day more and more cause given me to rejoice, by the kindest andmost generous of gentlemen. 

"As I have often prayed for you, even when you used me the mostunkindly, I now praise God for having heard my prayers, and with highdelight look upon you as a reclaimed soul given to my supplication. May the Divine goodness enable you to persevere in the course you havebegun! And when you can taste the all-surpassing pleasure that fillsthe worthy breast, on being placed in a station where your examplemay be of advantage to the souls of others, as well as to your own--apleasure that every good mind glories in, and none else can trulyrelish; then may you be assured, that nothing but your perseverance, and the consequential improvement resulting from it, is wanted toconvince you, that you are in a right way, and that the woe that ispronounced against the presumptuous sinner, belongs not to you. 

"Let me, therefore, dear Mrs. Jewkes (for now _indeed_ you are dear tome), caution you against two things; the one, that you return notto your former ways, and wilfully err after this repentance; for theDivine goodness will then look upon itself as mocked by you, and willwithdraw itself from you; and more dreadful will your state then be, than if you had never repented: the other, that you don't despair ofthe Divine mercy, which has so evidently manifested itself in yourfavour, and has awakened you out of your deplorable lethargy, withoutthose sharp medicines and operations, which others, and perhaps _notmore faulty_ persons, have suffered. But go on cheerfully in the samehappy path. Depend upon it, you are now in the right way, and turn noteither to the right hand or to the left; for the reward is before you, in reputation and a good fame in this life, and everlasting felicitybeyond it. 

"Your letter is that of a sensible woman, as I always thought you; andof a truly contrite one, as I hope you will prove yourself to be: andI the rather hope it, as I shall be always desirous, then of takingevery opportunity that offers of doing you real service, as well withregard to your present as future life: for I 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 torecommend to you, and to those under your direction, send for themeither to Lincoln, Stamford, or Grantham, and place them to myaccount: and may they be the effectual means of confirming you andthem in the good way you are in! I have done as much for all here:and, I 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 beout-done in Bedfordshire, by Mrs. Jewkes in Lincolnshire; but that theservants 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 twoletters. I will now proceed to your ladyship's twelve articles. As tothe

1. I will oblige your ladyship, as I have opportunity, in my futureletters, with such accounts of my dear lady's favour and goodness tome, as I think will be acceptable to you, and to the noble ladies youmention. 

2. I am extremely delighted, that your ladyship thinks so well of mydear honest parents: they are good people, and ever had minds that setthem above low and sordid actions: and God and your good brother hasrewarded them most amply in this world, which is more than they everexpected, after a series of unprosperousness in all they undertook. 

Your ladyship is pleased to say, that people in upper life love to seehow plain nature operates in honest minds, who have hardly any thingelse for their guide: and if I might not be thought to descend toolow 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 increasemy thankfulness for what I _am_), I would give you a scene ofresignation, and contented poverty, of which otherwise you can hardlyhave 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 byits length. 

It was upon occasion of a great loss and disappointment which happenedto my dear parents; for though they were never high in life, yet theywere not always so low as my honoured lady found them, when she tookme. My poor father came home; and as the loss was of such a nature, asthat 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 takecomfort, 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 becontent, though not favoured as we wished. --All the business is, ourlot is not cast for this life. Let us resign ourselves to the Divinewill, and continue to do our duty, and this short life will soon bepast. Our troubles will be quickly overblown; and we shall be happy ina better, I make no doubt. "

Then my dear mother threw her arms about his neck, and said, withtears, "God's will be done, my dear love! All cannot be rich andhappy. I am contented, and had rather say, I have a poor honesthusband, than a guilty rich one. What signifies repining: let theworld 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 goodgirl here, because she is good, than we could be, if this had nothappened, " pointing to me, who, then about eleven years old (for itwas before my lady took me), sat weeping in the chimney corner, over afew dying embers of a fire, at their moving expressions. 

I arose, and kissing both their hands, and blessing them, said, "Andthis length and breadth, my dear parents, will be, one day, all thatthe rich and the great can possess; and, it may be, their ungraciousheirs will trample upon their ashes, and rejoice they are gone: whilesuch a poor girl as I, am honouring the memories of mine, who, intheir good names, and good lessons, will have left me the best ofportions. "

And then they both hugged me to their fond bosoms, by turns; and allthree were filled with comfort in one another. 

For a farther proof that _honest poverty_ is not such a deplorablething as some people imagine, let me ask, what pleasure can thoseover-happy persons know, who, from the luxury of their tastes, andtheir affluent circumstances, always eat before they are hungry, anddrink before they are thirsty? This may be illustrated by the instanceof a certain eastern monarch, who, as I have read, marching at thehead of a vast army, through a wide extended desert, which affordedneither river nor spring, for the first time, found himself (in commonwith his soldiers) overtaken by a craving thirst, which made him pantafter a cup of water. And when, after diligent search, one of hissoldiers found a little dirty puddle, and carried him some of thefilthy 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!--Excuseme, my good lady, and don't think me, in this respect, too much likethe cat in the fable, turned into a fine lady; for though I wouldnever forget what I was, yet I would be thought to know _how_gratefully to enjoy my present happiness, as well with regard to myobligations to God, as to your dear brother. But let me proceed toyour ladyship's third particular. 

3. And you cannot imagine. Madam, how much you have set my heart atrest, when you say, that my dear Mr. B. Gave me a just narrative ofthis affair with Miss Godfrey: for when your ladyship desired toknow how he had recounted that story, lest you should make amisunderstanding between us unawares, I knew not what to think. I wasafraid some blood had been shed on the occasion by him: for the ladywas ruined, and as to her, nothing could have happened worse. Theregard I have for Mr. B. 's future happiness, which, in my constantsupplication for him in private, costs me many a tear, gave me greatapprehensions, and not a little uneasiness. But as your ladyship tellsme that he gave me a just account, I am happy again. 

I now come to your ladyship's fourth particular. 

And highly delighted I am for having obtained your approbation ofmy conduct to the child, as well as of my behaviour towards thedear gentleman, on the unhappy lady's score. Your ladyship's wiseintimations about having the child with me, make due impressions uponme; and I see in them, with grateful pleasure, your unmerited regardfor me. Yet, I don't know how it is, but I have conceived a strangepassion for this dear baby; I cannot but look upon her poor mamma asmy sister in point of trial; and shall not the prosperous sisterpity and love the poor dear sister that, in so slippery a path, has_fallen_, while _she_ had the happiness to keep her feet?

The rest of your ladyship's articles give me the greatest pleasure andsatisfaction; and if I can but continue myself in the favour of yourdear brother, and improve in that of his noble sister, how happy shallI be! I will do all I can to deserve both. And I hope you will take asan instance of it, my cheerful obedience to your commands, in writingto so fine a judge, such crude and indigested stuff, as, otherwise Iought to be ashamed to lay before you. 

I am impatient for the honour of your presence here; and yet I perplexmyself with the fear of appearing so unworthy in your eye when nearyou, as to suffer in your opinion; but I promise myself, that howeverthis may be the case on your first visit, I shall be so much improvedby the benefits I shall reap from your lessons and good example, thatwhenever I shall be favoured with a _second_ you shall have fewerfaults to find with me; till, as I shall be more and more favoured, Ishall in time be just what your ladyship will wish me to be, and, ofconsequence, more worthy than I am of the honour of stiling myself_your ladyship's most humble and obedient servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XXI

_From Miss Darnford, in answer to Mrs. B. 's, p_. 60. 

MY DEAR MRS. B. , You are highly obliging in expressing so warmly your wishes to have mewith you. I know not any body in this world, out of our own family, inwhose company I should be happier; but my papa won't part with me, Ithink; though I have secured my mamma in my interest; and I know Nancywould be glad of my absence, because the dear, perversely envious, thinks _me_ more valued than _she_ is; and yet, foolish girl, shedon't consider, that if her envy be well grounded, I should returnwith more than double advantages to what I now have, improved by yourcharming conversation. 

My papa affects to be in a fearful pet, at your lecturing of him Sojustly; for my mamma would show him the letter; and he says he willpositively demand satisfaction of Mr. B. For your treating him sofreely. And yet he shall hardly think him, he says, on a rank withhim, unless Mr. B. Will, on occasion of the new commission, take outhis Dedimus: and then if he will bring you down to Lincolnshire, andjoin with him to commit you prisoner for a month at the Hall, allshall be well. 

It is very obliging in Mr. B. To join in your kind invitation:but--yet I am loth to say it to you--the character of your worthygentleman, I doubt, stands a little in the way with my papa. 

My mamma pleaded his being married. "Ads-dines, Madam, " said he, "whatof all that!"

"But, Sir, " said I, "I hope, if I may not go to Bedfordshire, you'llpermit 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 togive a better reason to good Mrs. B. Why I am not permitted to acceptof the kind invitation, than that which I understand you have beenpleased to assign. "

He stuck his hands in his sides, with his usual humourouspositiveness. "Why, then tell her she is a very saucy lady, for herlast letter to you, and her lord and master is not to be trusted; andit is my absolute will and pleasure that you ask me no more questionsabout it. "

"I will very faithfully make this report, Sir. "--"Do so. " And soI have. And your poor Polly Darnford is disappointed of one of thegreatest pleasures she could have had. 

I can't help it--if you truly pity me you can make me easier underthe disappointment, than otherwise possible, by favouring me withan epistolary conversation, since I am denied a personal one; and mymamma joins in the request; particularly let us know how Lady Davers'sfirst visit passes; which Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Jones, who know my ladyso well, likewise long to hear. And this will make us the best amendsin your power for the loss of your good neighbourhood, which we hadall promised to ourselves. 

This denial of my papa comes out, since I wrote the above, to beprincipally owing to a proposal made him of an humble servant toone of his daughters: he won't say which, he tells us, in his usualhumourous way, lest we should fall out about it. 

"I suppose, " I tell him, "the young gentleman is to pick and choosewhich of the two he likes best. " But be he a duke, 'tis all one toPolly, if he is not something above our common Lincolnshire class offox-hunters. 

I have shewn Mr. And Mrs. Peters your letter. They admire you beyondexpression; and Mr. Peters says, he does not know, that ever he didany thing in his life, that gave him so much inward reproach, as hisdenying you the protection of his family, which Mr. Williams sought tomove him to afford you, when you were confined at the Hall, beforeMr. B. Came down to you, with his heart bent on mischief; and allhe comforts himself with is, that very denial, as well as the otherhardships you have met with, were necessary to bring about that workof Providence which was to reward your unexampled virtue. 

Yet, he says, he doubts he shall not be thought excusable by you, whoare so exact in _your_ own duty, since he had the unhappiness to losesuch an opportunity to have done honour to his function, had he hadthe fortitude to have done _his;_ and he has begged of me to hint hisconcern to you on this head; and to express his hopes, that neitherreligion nor his cloth may suffer in your opinion, for the faultof one of its professors, who never was wanting in his duty so muchbefore. 

He had it often upon his mind, he says, to write to you on this verysubject; 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 hadsuch delicate circumstances in it, that in blaming himself, as heshould very freely have done, he must, by implication, have cast stillgreater blame upon him. 

Mr. Peters is certainly a very good man, and my favourite for thatreason; and I hope _you, _ who could so easily forgive the late wicked, but now penitent Jewkes, will overlook with kindness a fault in a goodman, which proceeded more from pusillanimity and constitution, thanfrom want of principle: for once, talking of it to my mamma, beforeme, he accused himself on this score, to her, with tears in his eyes. She, good lady, would have given you this protection at Mr. Williams'sdesire; but wanted the power to do it. 

So you see, my dear Mrs. B. , how your virtue has shamed every oneinto such a sense of what they ought to have done, that good, bad, andindifferent, are seeking to make excuses for past misbehaviour, andto promise future amendment, like penitent subjects returning to theirduty to their conquering sovereign, after some unworthy defection. 

Happy, happy lady! May you ever be so! May you always convert yourenemies, 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 I have named desire theirbest respects. Write oftener, and omit not the minutest thing: forevery line of yours carries instruction with it. 

LETTER XXII

From Sir Simon Darnford to Mr. B. 

SIR, Little did I think I should ever have occasion to make a formalcomplaint against a person very dear to you, and who I believedeserves to be so; but don't let her be so proud and so vain ofobliging and pleasing you, as to make her not care how she affrontsevery body else. 

The person is no other than the wife of your bosom, who has taken suchliberties with me as ought not to be taken, and sought to turn my ownchild against me, and make a dutiful girl a rebel. 

If people will set up for virtue, and all that, let 'em be uniformlyvirtuous, or I would not give a farthing for their pretences. 

Here I have been plagued with gouts, rheumatisms, and namelessdisorders, ever since you left us, which have made me call for alittle more attendance than ordinary; and I had reason to think myselfslighted, where an indulgent father can least bear to be so, that is, where he most loves; and that by young upstarts, who are growing up tothe enjoyment of those pleasures which have run away from me, fleetingrascals as they are! before I was willing to part with them. And Irung and rung, and "Where's Polly?" (for I honour the slut with toomuch of my notice), "Where's Polly?" was all my cry, to every onewho came up to ask what I rung for. And, at last, in burst the pertbaggage, with an air of assurance, as if she thought all must be wellthe moment she appeared, with "Do you want me, papa?"

"Do I want you, Confidence? Yes, I do. Where have you been these twohours, that you never came near me, when you knew 'twas my timeto have my foot rubbed, which gives me mortal pain?" For you mustunderstand, Mr. B. , that nobody's hand's so soft as Polly's. 

She gave me a saucy answer, as I was disposed to think it, because Ihad just then a twinge, that I could scarce bear; for pain is a plaguything to a man of my lively spirits. 

She gave me, I say, a careless answer, and turning upon her heel; andnot coming to me at my first word, I flung a book which I had in myhand, at her head. And, this fine lady of your's, this paragon ofmeekness and humility, in so many words, bids me, or, which is worse, tells my own daughter to bid me, never to take a book into my handsagain, if I won't make a better use of it:--and yet, what betteruse can an offended father make of the best books, than to correct arebellious child with them, and oblige a saucy daughter to jump intoher duty all at once?

Mrs. B. Reflects upon me for making her blush formerly, and sayingthings before my daughters, that, truly, I ought to be ashamed of?then avows malice and revenge. Why neighbour, are these things to beborne?--Do you allow your lady to set up for a general corrector ofevery body's morals but your own?--Do you allow her to condemn theonly instances of wit that remain to this generation; that dear polite_double entendre_, which keeps alive the attention, and quickens theapprehension, of the best companies in the world, and is the salt, thesauce, which gives a poignancy to all our genteeler entertainments!

Very fine, truly! that more than half the world shall be shut out ofsociety, shall be precluded their share of conversation amongst thegay and polite of both sexes, were your lady to have her will! Lether first find people who can support a conversation with wit and goodsense like her own, and then something may be said: but till then, I positively say, and will swear upon occasion, that double entendreshall not be banished from our tables; and where this won't raise ablush, or create a laugh, we will, if we please, for all Mrs. B. Andher new-fangled notions, force the one and the other by still plainerhints; and let her help herself how she can. 

Thus, Sir, you find my complaints are of a high nature, regarding thequiet of a family, the duty of a child to a parent, and the freedomand politeness of conversation; in all which your lady has greatlyoffended; and I insist upon satisfaction from you, or such acorrection of the fair transgressor, as is in your power to inflict, and which may prevent worse consequences from _your offended friendand servant_, SIMON DARNFORD. 

LETTER XXIII

_From Mr. B. In Answer to the preceding one. _

DEAR SIR SIMON, You cannot but believe that I was much surprised at your letter, complaining of the behaviour of my wife. I could no more have expectedsuch a complaint from such a gentleman, than I could, that she wouldhave deserved it: and I am very sorry on _both_ accounts. I havetalked to her in such a manner, that, I dare say, she will never giveyou like cause to appeal to me. 

It happened, that the criminal herself received it from her servant, and brought it to me in my closet; and, making her honours (for Ican't say but she is very obliging to me, though she takes such saucyfreedoms with my friends) away she tript; and I, inquiring for her, when, with surprise, as you may believe, I had read your charge, foundshe was gone to visit a poor sick neighbour; of which indeed I knewbefore because she took the chariot; but I had forgot it in my wrath. 

At last, in she came, with that sweet composure in her face whichresults from a consciousness of doing _generally_ just and generousthings. I resumed, therefore, that sternness and displeasure which herentrance had almost dissipated. I took her hand; her charming eye(you know what an eye she has, Sir Simon) quivered at my overcloudedaspect; and her lips, half drawn to a smile, trembling withapprehension of a countenance so changed from what she left it. 

And then, all stiff and stately as I could look, did I accosther--"Come along with me, Pamela, to my closet. I want to talk withyou. "

"What have I done? Let me know, good Sir!" looking round, with herhalf-affrighted eyes, this way and that, on the books, and pictures, and on me, by turns. 

"You shall know soon, " said I, "the _crime_ you have been guiltyof. "--"_Crime_, Sir! Pray let me--This closet, I hoped, would not be a_second_ time witness to the flutter you put me in. "

_There_ hangs a tale, Sir Simon, which I am not very fond of relating, since it gave beginning to the triumphs of this little sorceress. Istill held one hand, and she stood before me, as criminals ought todo before their judge, but said, "I see, Sir, sure I do, --or what willelse become of me!--less severity in your eyes, than you affect toput on in your countenance. Dear Sir, let me but know my fault: I willrepent, acknowledge, and amend. "

"You must have great presence of mind, Pamela, such is the nature ofyour fault, if you can look me in the face, when I tell it you. "

"Then let me, " said the irresistible charmer, hiding her face in mybosom, and putting her other arm about my neck, "let me thus, my dearMr. B. , hide this guilty face, while I hear my fault told; and I willnot seek to extenuate it, by my tears, and my penitence. "

I could hardly hold out. What infatuating creatures are these women, when they thus soothe and calm the tumults of an angry heart! When, instead of _scornful_ looks darted in return for _angry_ ones, wordsof _defiance_ for words of _peevishness, _ persisting to defend_one_ error by _another_, and returning _vehement wrath_ for _slightindignation, _ and all the hostile provocations of the marriagewarfare; they can thus hide their dear faces in our bosoms, and wishbut to _know_ their faults, to _amend_ them!

I could hardly, I say, resist the sweet girl's behaviour; nay, Ibelieve, I did, and in defiance to my resolved displeasure, press herforehead with my lips, as the rest of her face was hid on my breast;but, considering it was the cause of my _friend, _ I was to assert, my_injured_ friend, wounded and insulted, in so various a manner by thefair offender, thus haughtily spoke I to the trembling mischief, in apomp of style theatrically tragic:

"I will not, too inadvertent, and undistinguishing Pamela, keepyou long in suspense, for the sake of a circumstance, that, on thisoccasion, ought to give you as much joy, as it has, till now, givenme--since it becomes an advocate in your favour, when otherwise youmight expect very severe treatment. Know then, that the letter yougave me before you went out, is a letter from a friend, a neighbour, aworthy neighbour, complaining of your behaviour to him;--no other thanSir Simon Darnford" (for I would not amuse her too much), "a gentlemanI must always respect, and whom, as my friend, I expected _you_should: since, by the value a wife expresses for one esteemed by herhusband, whether she thinks so well of him herself, or not, a manought always to judge of the sincerity of her regards to himself. "

She raised her head at once on this:--"Thank Heaven, " said she, "it isno worse!--I was at my wit's end almost, in apprehension: but I knowhow this must be. Dear Sir, how could you frighten me so?--I know howall this is!--I can now look you in the face, and hear all that SirSimon can charge me with! For I am sure, I have not so affronted himas to make him angry indeed. And truly" (ran she on, secure of pardonas she seemed to think), "I should respect Sir Simon not only as yourfriend, but on his own account, if he was not so sad a rake at a timeof life--"

Then I interrupted her, you must needs think. Sir Simon; for how couldI bear to hear my worthy friend so freely treated! "How now, Pamela!"said I; "and is it thus, by _repeating_ your fault, that you _atone_for it? Do you think I can bear to hear my friend so freely treated?"

"Indeed, " said she, "I do respect Sir Simon very much as your_friend_, permit me to repeat; but cannot for his wilful failings. Would it not be, in some measure, to approve of faulty conversation, if one can hear it, and not discourage it, when the occasion comes inso pat?--And, indeed, I was glad of an opportunity, " continued she, "to give him a little rub; I must needs own it: but if it displeasesyou, or has made him angry in earnest, I am sorry for it, and will beless bold for the future. "

"Read then, " said I, "the heavy charge, and I'll return instantly tohear your answer to it. " So I went from her, for a few minutes. But, would you believe it, Sir Simon? she seemed, on my return, very littleconcerned at your just complaints. What self-justifying minds have themeekest of these women!--Instead of finding her in repentant tears, asone would expect, she took your angry letter for a jocular one; andI had great difficulty to convince her of the heinousness of _her_fault, or the reality of your resentment. Upon which, being determinedto have justice done to my friend, and a due sense of her own greaterror impressed upon her, I began thus:

"Pamela, take heed that you do not suffer the purity of your own mind, in breach of your charity, to make you too rigorous a censurerof other people's actions: don't be so puffed up with your ownperfections, as to imagine, that, because other persons allowthemselves liberties you cannot take, _therefore_ they must be wicked. Sir Simon is a gentleman who indulges himself in a pleasant vein, and, I believe, as well as you, _has been_ a great rake and libertine:"(You'll excuse me, Sir Simon, because I am taking your part), "butwhat then? You see it is all over with him now. He says, that he_must_, and therefore he _will_ be virtuous: and is a man for ever tohear the faults of his youth, when so willing to forget them?"

"Ah! but, Sir, Sir, " said the bold slut, "can you say he is _willing_to forget them?--Does he not repine in this very letter, thathe _must_ forsake them; and does he not plainly cherish the_inclination_, when he owns--" She hesitated--"Owns what?"--"You knowwhat I mean. Sir, and I need not speak it: and can there well be amore censurable character?--Then before his maiden daughters! hisvirtuous lady! _before_ any body!--What a sad thing is this, at a timeof life, which should afford a better example!

"But, dear Sir, " continued the bold prattler, (taking advantage ofa silence more owing to displeasure than approbation) "let me, forI would not be too _censorious_" (No, not she! in the very act ofcensoriousness to say this!), "let me offer but one thing: don'tyou think Sir Simon himself would be loth to be thought a reformedgentleman? Don't you see his delight, when speaking of his formerpranks, as if sorry he could not play them over again? See but how hesimpers, and _enjoys_, as one may say, the relations of his own rakishactions, when he tells a bad story!"

"But, " said I, "were this the case" (for I profess, Sir Simon, I wasat a grievous loss to defend you), "for you to write all these freethings against a father to his daughter, is that right, Pamela?"

"O, Sir! the good gentleman himself has taken care, that such acharacter as I presumed to draw to Miss of her papa, was no strangeone to her. You have seen yourself, Mr. B. , whenever his arch leers, and his humourous attitude on those occasions, have taught us toexpect some shocking story, how his lady and daughters (used to him asthey are), have suffered in their apprehensions of what he would say, before he spoke it: how, particularly, dear Miss Darnford has lookedat me with concern, desirous, as it were, if possible, to save herpapa from the censure, which his faulty expressions must naturallybring upon him. And, dear Sir, is it not a sad thing for a young lady, who loves and honours her papa, to observe, that he is discreditinghimself, and _wants_ the example he ought to _give?_ And pardon me, Sir, for smiling on so serious an occasion; but is it not a finesight to see a gentleman, as we have often seen Sir Simon, when he hasthought proper to read a passage in some bad book, pulling off _hisspectacles_, to talk filthily upon it? Methinks I see him now, " addedthe bold slut, "splitting his arch face with a broad laugh, shewing amouth, with hardly a tooth in it, and making obscene remarks upon whathe has read. "

And then the dear saucy-face laughed out, to bear _me_ company; for Icould not, for the soul of me, avoid laughing heartily at the figureshe brought to my mind, which I have seen my old friend more than oncemake, with his dismounted spectacles, arch mouth, and gums of shiningjet, succeeding those of polished ivory, of which he often boasts, asone ornament of his youthful days. --And I the rather in my heart, SirSimon, gave you up, because, when I was a sad fellow, it was always mymaxim to endeavour to touch a lady's heart without wounding herears. And, indeed, I found my account sometimes in observing it. But, resuming my gravity--"Hussy, said I, do you think I will have my oldfriend thus made the object of your ridicule?--Suppose a challengeshould have ensued between us on your account--what might have beenthe issue of it? To see an old gentleman, stumping, as he says, oncrutches, to fight a duel in defence of his wounded honour!"--"Verybad, Sir, to be sure: I see that, and am sorry for it: for had youcarried off Sir Simon's crutch, as a trophy, he must have lain sighingand groaning like a wounded soldier in the field of battle, tillanother had been brought him, to have stumped home with. "

But, dear Sir Simon, I have brought this matter to an issue, thatwill, I hope, make all easy;--Miss Polly, and my Pamela, shall both bepunished as they deserve, if it be not your own fault. I am told, thatthe sins of your youth don't sit so heavily upon your limbs, as inyour imagination; and I believe change of air, and the gratificationof your revenge, a fine help to such lively spirits as yours, will setyou up. You shall then take coach, and bring your pretty criminal tomine; and when we have them together, they shall humble themselvesbefore us, and you can absolve or punish them, as you shall seeproper. For I cannot bear to have my worthy friend insulted in soheinous a manner, by a couple of saucy girls, who, if not taken downin time, may proceed from fault to fault, till there will be no livingwith them. 

If (to be still more serious) your lady and you will lend MissDarnford to my Pamela's wishes, whose heart is set upon the hope ofher wintering with us in town, you will lay an obligation upon usboth; which will be acknowledged with great gratitude by, dear Sir, _your affectionate and humble servant_. 

LETTER XXIV

_From Sir Simon Darnford in reply. _

Hark ye, Mr. B. --A word in your ear:--to be plain: I like neither younor your wife well enough to trust my Polly with you. 

But here's war declared against my poor gums, it seems. Well, I willnever open my mouth before your lady as long as I live, if I can helpit. I have for these ten years avoided to put on my cravat; and forwhat reason, do you think?--Why, because I could not bear to see whatruins a few years have made in a visage, that used to inspire love andterror as it pleased. And here your--what-shall-I-call-her of a wife, with all the insolence of youth and beauty on her side, follows mewith a glass, and would make me look in it, whether I will or not. I'ma plaguy good-humoured old fellow--if I am an old fellow--or I shouldnot bear the insults contained in your letter. Between you and yourlady, you make a wretched figure of me, that's certain. --And yet 'tis_taking my part_. 

But what must I do?--I'd be glad at any rate to stand in yourlady's graces, that I would; nor would I be the last rake libertineunreformed by her example, which I suppose will make virtue thefashion, if she goes on as she does. But here I have been used to cuta joke and toss the squib about; and, as far as I know, it hashelped to keep me alive in the midst of pains and aches, and with twowomen-grown girls, and the rest of the mortifications that will attendon _advanced years_; for I won't (hang me if I will) give it up asabsolute _old age!_

But now, it seems, I must leave all this off, or I must be mortifiedwith a looking glass held before me, and every wrinkle must be madeas conspicuous as a furrow--And what, pray, is to succeed to thisreformation?--I can neither fast nor pray, I doubt. --And besides, ifmy stomach and my jest depart from me, farewell, Sir Simon Darnford!

But cannot I pass as one necessary character, do you think: as a foil(as, by-the-bye, some of your own actions have been to your lady'svirtue) to set off some more edifying example, where variety ofcharacters make up a feast in conversation?

Well, I believe I might have trusted you with my daughter, under yourlady's eye, rake as you have been yourself; and fame says wrong, ifyou have not been, for your time a bolder sinner than ever I was, withyour maxim of touching ladies' hearts, without wounding their ears, which made surer work with them, that was all; though 'tis to be hopedyou are now reformed; and if you are, the whole country round you, east, west, north, and south, owe great obligations to your fairreclaimer. But here is a fine prim young fellow, coming out ofNorfolk, with one estate in one county, another in another, andjointures and settlements in his hand, and more wit in his head, aswell as more money in his pocket, than he can tell what to do with, tovisit our Polly; though I tell her I much question the former quality, his wit, if he is for marrying. 

Here then is the reason I cannot comply with your kind Mrs. B. 'srequest. But if this matter should go off; if he should not like_her_, or she _him_; or if I should not like _his_ terms, or he_mine_;--or still another _or_, if he should like Nancy better why, then perhaps, if Polly be a good girl, I may trust to her virtue, andto your honour, and let her go for a month or two. 

Now, when I have said this, and when I say, further, that I canforgive your severe lady, and yourself too, (who, however, are less tobe excused in the airs you assume, which looks like one chimney-sweepercalling another a sooty rascal) I gave a proof of my charity, whichI hope with Mrs. B. Will cover a multitude of faults; and the rather, since, though I cannot be a _follower_ of her virtue in the strictestsense, I can be an _admirer_ of it; and that is some little merit: andindeed all that can be at present pleaded by _yourself_, I doubt, anymore than _your humble servant_, SIMON DARNFORD. 

LETTER XXV

MY HONOURED AND DEAR PARENTS, I hope you will excuse my long silence, which has been owing toseveral causes, and having had nothing new to entertain you with: andyet this last is but a poor excuse to you, who think every triflingsubject agreeable from your daughter. 

I daily expect here my Lord and Lady Davers. This gives me no smallpleasure, and yet it is mingled with some uneasiness at times; lest Ishould not, when viewed so intimately near, behave myself answerablyto her ladyship's expectations. But I resolve not to endeavour tomove out of the sphere of my own capacity, in order to emulate herladyship. She must have advantages, by conversation, as well aseducation, which it would be arrogance in me to assume, or to think ofimitating. 

All that I will attempt to do, therefore, shall be, to shew such arespectful obligingness to my lady, as shall be consistent with thecondition to which I am raised; so that she may not have reason toreproach me of pride in my exaltation, nor her dear brother to rebukeme for meanness in condescending: and, as to my family arrangement, Iam the less afraid of inspection, because, by the natural bias ofmy own mind, I bless God, I am above dark reserves, and have not oneselfish or sordid view, to make me wish to avoid the most scrutinisingeye. 

I have begun a correspondence with Miss Darnford, a young ladyof uncommon merit. But yet you know her character from my formerwritings. She is very solicitous to hear of all that concerns me, andparticularly how Lady Davers and I agree together. I loved her fromthe moment I saw her first; for she has the least pride, and the mostbenevolence and solid thought, I ever knew in a young lady, and doesnot envy any one. I shall write to her often: and as I shall have somany avocations besides to fill up my time, I know you will excuse me, if I procure from this lady the return of my letters to her, for yourperusal, and for the entertainment of your leisure hours. This willgive you, from time to time, the accounts you desire of all thathappens here. But as to what relates to our own particulars, I beg youwill never spare writing, as I shall not answering; for it is one ofmy greatest delights, that I have such worthy parents (as I hope inGod, I long shall) to bless me and to correspond with me. 

The papers I send herewith will afford you some diversion, particularly those relating to Sir Simon Darnford; and I must desire, that when you have perused them (as well as what I shall send for thefuture), you will return them to me. 

Mr. Longman greatly pleased me, on his last return, in his account ofyour health, and the satisfaction you take in your happy lot; and Imust recite to you a brief conversation on this occasion, which, Idare say, will please you as much as it did me. 

After having adjusted some affairs with his dear principal, which tookup two hours, my best beloved sent for me. "My dear, " said he, seatingme by him, and making the good old gentleman sit down, (for he willalways rise at my approach) "Mr. Longman and I have settled, in twohours, some accounts, which would have taken up as many months withsome persons: for never was there an exacter or more methodicalaccomptant. He gives me (greatly to my satisfaction, because I knowit will delight you) an account of the Kentish concern, and of thepleasure your father and mother take in it. --Now, my charmer, " saidhe, "I see your eyes begin to glisten: O how this subject raises yourwhole soul to the windows of it!--Never was so dutiful a daughter, Mr. Longman; and never did parents better deserve a daughter's duty. "

I endeavoured before Mr. Longman to rein in a gratitude, that mythrobbing heart confessed through my handkerchief, as I perceived: butthe good old gentleman could not hinder his from shewing itself athis worthy eyes, to see how much I was favoured--_oppressed_, I shouldsay--with the tenderest goodness to me, and kind expressions. --"Excuseme, " said he, wiping his cheeks: "my delight to see such merit sojustly rewarded will not be contained, I think. " And so he arose andwalked to the window. 

"Well, good Mr. Longman, " said I, as he returned towards us, "you giveme the pleasure to know that my father and mother are well; and happythen they _must_ be, in a goodness and bounty, that I, and many more, rejoice in. "

"Well and happy, Madam;--ay, that they are, indeed! A worthier couplenever lived. Most nobly do they go on in the farm. Your honour is oneof the happiest gentlemen in the world. All the good you do, returnsupon you in a trice. It may well be said _you cast your bread upon thewaters_; for it presently comes to you again, richer and heavierthan when you threw it in. All the Kentish tenants, Madam, are hugelydelighted with their good steward: every thing prospers under hismanagement: the gentry love both him and my dame; and the poor peopleadore them. "

Thus ran Mr. Longman on, to my inexpressible delight, you may believe;and when he withdrew--"'Tis an honest soul, " said my dear Mr. B. "Ilove him for his respectful love to my angel, and his value for theworthy pair. Very glad I am, that every thing answers _their_ wishes. May they long live, and be happy!"

The dear man makes me spring to his arms, whenever be touches thisstring: for he speaks always thus kindly of you; and is glad to hear, he says, that you don't live only to yourselves; and now and thenadds, that he is as much satisfied with your prudence, as he is withmine; that parents and daughter do credit to one another: and thatthe praises he hears of you from every mouth, make him take as greatpleasure in you, as if you were his own relations. How delighting, howtransporting rather, my dear parents, must this goodness be to yourhappy daughter! And how could I forbear repeating these kind things toyou, that you may see how well every thing is taken that you do?

When the expected visit from Lord and Lady Davers is over, theapproaching winter will call us to London; and as I shall then benearer to you, we may oftener hear from one another, which will be agreat heightening to my pleasures. 

But I hear such an account of the immoralities which persons mayobserve there, along with the public diversions, that it takes off alittle from the satisfaction I should otherwise have in the thought ofgoing thither. For, they say, quarrels, and duels, and gallantries, asthey are called, so often happen in London, that those enormities areheard of without the least wonder or surprise. 

This makes me very thoughtful at times. But God, I hope, will preserveour dearest benefactor, and continue to me his affection, and thenI shall be always happy; especially while your healths and felicityconfirm and crown the delights of _your ever dutiful daughter, _ P. B. 

LETTER XXVI

MY DEAREST CHILD, It may not be improper to mention ourselves, what the nature ofthe kindnesses is, which we confer on our poor neighbours, and thelabouring people, lest it should be surmised, by any body, that weare lavishing away wealth that is not our own. Not that we fear eitheryour honoured husband or you will suspect so, or that the worthyMr. Longman would insinuate as much; for he saw what we did, and washighly pleased with it, and said he would make such a report of it asyou write he did. What we do is in small things, though the good wehope from them is not small perhaps: and if a very distressfulcase should happen among our poor neighbours, requiring any thingconsiderable, and the objects be deserving, we would acquaint you withit, and leave it to you to do as God should direct you. 

My dear child, you are very happy, and if it _can_ be, may you behappier still! Yet I verily think you cannot be more happy than yourfather and mother, except in this one thing, that all our happiness, under God, proceeds from you; and, as other parents bless theirchildren with plenty and benefits, you have blessed your parents (oryour honoured husband rather for your sake) with all the good thingsthis world can afford. 

Your papers are the joy of our leisure hours; and you are kind beyondall expression, in taking care to oblige us with them. We know howyour time is taken up, and ought to be very well contented, if butnow and then you let us hear of your health and welfare. But it isnot enough with such a good daughter, that you have made our lives_comfortable_, but you will make them _joyful_ too, by communicatingto us, all that befals you: and then you write so piously, andwith such a sense of God's goodness to you, and intermix such goodreflections in your writings, that whether it be our partial love ornot, I cannot tell, but, truly, we think nobody comes up to you: andyou make our hearts and eyes so often overflow, as we read, that wejoin hand in hand, and say to each other, in the same breath--"Blessedbe God, and blessed be you, my love, "--"For such a daughter, " says theone--"For such a daughter, " says the other--"And she has your own sweettemper, " cry I. --"And she has your own honest heart, " cries she: andso we go on, blessing God, and you, and blessing your spouse, andourselves!--Is any happiness like ours, my dear daughter?

We are really so enraptured with your writings, that when our spiritsflag, through the infirmity of years, which hath begun to take hold ofus, we have recourse to some of your papers:--"Come, my dear, " cry I, "what say you to a banquet now?"--She knows what I mean. "With all myheart, " says she. So I read although it be on a Sunday, so good areyour letters; and you must know, I have copies of many, and after alittle while we are as much alive and brisk, as if we had no naggingat all, and return to the duties of the day with double delight. 

Consider then, my dear child, what joy your writings give us: andyet we are afraid of oppressing you, who have so much to do of otherkinds; and we are heartily glad you have found out a way to savetrouble to yourself, and rejoice us, and oblige so worthy a younglady as Miss Darnford, all at one time. I never shall forget her deargoodness, and notice of me at the Hall, kindly pressing my rough handswith her fine hands, and looking in my face with _so_ much kindnessin her eyes!--What good people, as well as bad, there are in highstations!--Thank God there are; else our poor child would have hada sad time of it too often, when she was obliged to _step out ofherself_, as once I heard you phrase it, into company you could not_live with_. 

Well, but what shall I say more? and yet how shall I end?--Only, withmy prayers, that God will continue to you the blessing and comfortsyou are in possession of!--And pray now, be not over-thoughtful aboutLondon; for why should you let the dread of future evils lessen yourpresent joys?--There is no absolute perfection in this life, that'strue; but one would make one's self as easy as one could. 'Tis timeenough to be troubled when troubles come--"_Sufficient unto the day isthe evil thereof_. "

Rejoice, then, as you have often said you would, in your presentblessings, and leave the event of things to the Supreme Disposerof all events. And what have _you_ to do but to rejoice? _You_, whocannot see a sun rise, but it is to bless you, and to raise up fromtheir beds numbers to join in the blessing! _You_ who can bless yourhigh-born friends, and your low-born parents, and obscure relations!the rich by your example, and the poor by your bounty; and blessbesides so good and so brave a husband;--O my dear child, what, letme repeat it, have _you_ to do but rejoice?--_For many daughters havedone wisely, but you have excelled them all_. 

I will only add, that every thing the 'squire ordered is just upon thepoint of being finished. And when the good time comes, that we shallbe again favoured with his presence and yours, what a still greaterjoy will this afford to the already overflowing hearts of _your everloving father and mother_, JOHN _and_ ELIZ. ANDREWS. 

LETTER XXVII

MY DEAREST MISS DARNFORD, The interest I take in everything that concerns you, makes me veryimportunate to know how you approve the gentleman, whom some of yourbest friends and well-wishers have recommended to your favour. I hopehe will deserve your good opinion, and then he must excel most of theunmarried gentlemen in England. 

Your papa, in his humourous manner, mentions his large possessions andriches; but were he as rich as Croesus, he should not have my consent, if he has no greater merit; though that is what the generality ofparents look out for first; and indeed an easy fortune is so far frombeing to be disregarded, that, when attended with equal merit, I thinkit ought to have a _preference_ given to it, supposing affectionsdisengaged. For 'tis certain, that a man or woman may stand as good achance for happiness in marriage with a person of fortune, as with onewho has not that advantage; and notwithstanding I had neither richesnor descent to boast of, I must be of opinion with those who say, thatthey never knew any body despise either, that had them. But to permitriches to be the _principal_ inducement, to the neglect of superiormerit, that is the fault which many a one smarts for, whether thechoice be their own, or imposed upon them by those who have a title totheir obedience. 

Here is a saucy body, might some who have not Miss Darnford's kindconsideration for her friend, be apt to say, who being thus meanlydescended, nevertheless presumes to give her opinion, in these highcases, unasked. --But I have this to say; that I think myself soentirely divested of partiality to my own case, that, as far as myjudgment shall permit, I will never have that in view, when I ampresuming to hint my opinion of general rules. For, most surely, thehonours I have received, and the debasement to which my best friendhad subjected himself, have, for their principal excuse, that thegentleman was entirely independent, had no questions to ask, and hada fortune sufficient to make himself, as well as the person hechose, 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 inducement, but that of anoble resolution to reward a virtue he had so frequently, and, I willsay, so wickedly, tried, and could not subdue. 

My dear Miss, let me, as a subject very pleasing to me, touch uponyour kind mention of the worthy Mr. Peters's sentiments to thatpart of his conduct to me, which (oppressed by the terrors andapprehensions to which I was subjected) once I censured; and thereadier, as I had so great an honour for his cloth, that I thought, to be a clergyman, and all that was compassionate, good, and virtuous, was the same thing. 

But when I came to know Mr. Peters, I had a high opinion of hisworthiness, and as no one can be perfect in this life, thus I thoughtto myself: How hard was then my lot, to be the cause of stumblingto so worthy a heart. To be sure, a gentleman, one who knows, andpractises so well, his duty, in every other instance, and preaches itso efficaciously to others, must have been _one day_ sensible, that itwould not have mis-become his function and character to have affordedthat protection to oppressed innocence, which was requested of him:and how would it have grieved his considerate mind, had my ruin beencompleted, that he did not!

But as he had once a namesake, as one may say, that failed in a muchgreater instance, let not _my_ want of charity exceed _his_ fault;but let me look upon it as an infirmity, to which the most perfectare liable; I was a stranger to him; a servant girl carried off byher master, a young gentleman of violent and lawless passions, who, in this very instance, shewed how much in earnest he was set uponeffecting all his vile purposes; and whose heart, although _God_ mighttouch, it was not probable any lesser influence could. Then he was notsure, that, though he might assist my escape, I might not afterwardsfall again into the hands of so determined a violator: and thatdifficulty would not, with such an one, enhance his resolution toovercome all obstacles. 

Moreover, he might think, that the person, who was moving him to thisworthy measure, possibly sought to gratify a view of his own, and thatwhile endeavouring to save, to outward appearance, a virtue in danger, he was, in reality, only helping another to a wife, at the hazard ofexposing himself to the vindictiveness of a violent temper, and a richneighbour, who had power as well as will to resent; for such was hisapprehension, entirely groundless as it was, though not improbable, asit might seem to him. 

For all these considerations, I must pity, rather than too rigorouslycensure, the worthy gentleman, and I will always respect him. Andthank him a thousand times, my dear, in my name, for his goodness incondescending to acknowledge, by your hand, his infirmity, as such;for this gives an excellent proof of the natural worthiness of hisheart; and that it is beneath him to seek to extenuate a fault, whenhe thinks he has committed one. 

Indeed, my dear friend, I have so much honour for the clergy of alldegrees, that I never forget in my prayers one article, that God willmake them shining lights to the world; since so much depends on theirministry and examples, as well with respect to our public as privateduties. Nor shall the faults of a few make impression upon me to thedisadvantage of the order; for I am afraid a very censorious temper, in this respect, is too generally the indication of an uncharitableand perhaps a profligate heart, levelling characters, in order tocover some inward pride, or secret enormities, which they are ashamedto avow, and will not be instructed to amend. 

Forgive, my dear, this tedious scribble; I cannot for my life writeshort letters to those I love. And let me hope that you will favourme with an account of your new affair, and how you proceed in it;and with such of your conversations, as may give me some notion of apolite courtship. For, alas! your poor friend knows nothing of this. All her courtship was sometimes a hasty snatch of the hand, a blackand blue gripe of the arm, and--"Whither now?"--"Come to me when I bidyou!" And Saucy-face, and Creature, and such like, on his part--withfear and trembling on mine; and--"I will, I will!--Good Sir, havemercy!" At other times a scream, and nobody to hear or mind me; andwith uplift hands, bent knees, and tearful eyes--"For God's sake, pityyour poor servant. "

This, my dear Miss Darnford, was the hard treatment that attended mycourtship--pray, then, let me know, how gentlemen court their equalsin degree; how they look when they address you, with their knees bent, sighing, supplicating, and _all that_, as Sir Simon says, with thewords Slave, Servant, Admirer, continually at their tongue's end. 

But after all, it will be found, I believe, that be the language andbehaviour ever so obsequious, it is all designed to end alike--TheEnglish, 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 yourmaster, "--"Yes, and thank you too, " says the lady's heart, though nother lips, if she likes him. And so they go to church together; and, in conclusion, it will be happy, if these obsequious courtships end noworse than my frightful one. 

But I am convinced, that with a man of sense, a woman of tolerableprudence _must_ be happy. 

That whenever you marry, it may be to such a man, who then must valueyou as you deserve, and make you happy as I now am, notwithstandingall that's past, wishes and prays _your obliged friend and servant, _

P. B. 

[N. B. --Although Miss Darnford could not receive the above letterso soon, as to answer it before others were sent to her by her faircorrespondent; yet we think it not amiss to dispense with the order oftime, that the reader may have the letter and answer at one view, andshall on other occasions take the like liberty. ]

LETTER XXVIII

_In answer to the preceding_

MY DEAR MRS. B. , You charm us all with your letters. Mr. Peters says, he will never goto bed, nor rise, but he will pray for you, and desires I will returnhis thankful acknowledgment for your favourable opinion of him, andkind allowances. If there be an angel on earth, he says, you areone. My papa, although he has seen your stinging reflection upon hisrefusal to protect you, is delighted with you too; and says, when youcome down to Lincolnshire again, he will be _undertaken_ by youin good earnest: for he thinks it was wrong in him to deny you hisprotection. 

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 wehad not known that your days of marriage are happier by far than anyother body's courtship, we must needs have pitied. But as the onewere days of trial and temptation, the others are days of reward andhappiness: may the last always continue to be so, and you'll have nooccasion 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 livelygentleman, well enough in his person, has a tolerable character, yetloves company, and will take his bottle freely; my papa likes himne'er the worse for that: he talks a good deal; dresses gay, and evenrichly, and seems to like his own person very well--no great pleasurethis for a lady to look forward to; yet he falls far short of thatgenteel ease and graceful behaviour, which distinguish your Mr. B. From any body I know. 

I wish Mr. Murray would apply to my sister. She is an ill-naturedgirl; but would make a good wife, I hope; and fancy she'd like himwell enough. I can't say I do. He laughs too much; has somethingboisterous in his conversation: his complaisance is not pretty; he is, however, well versed in country sports; and my papa loves him for thattoo, and says--"He is a most accomplished gentleman. "--"Yes Sir, " cryI, "as gentlemen go. "--"You _must_ be saucy, " says Sir Simon, "becausethe man offers himself to your acceptance. A few years hence, perhaps, if you remain single, you'll alter your note, Polly, and be willing tojump at a much less worthy tender. "

I could not help answering that, although I paid due honour to all mypapa was pleased to say, I could not but hope he would be mistaken inthis. But I have broken my mind to my dear mamma, who tells me, shewill do me all the pleasure she can; but would be loth the youngestdaughter should go _first_, as she calls it. But if I could comeand live with 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 mefor Nancy; for I see he has not delicacy enough to love with any greatdistinction. He says, as my mamma tells me by the bye, that I am thehandsomest, and best humoured, and he has found out as he thinks, thatI have some wit, and have ease and freedom (and he tacks innocenceto them) in my address and conversation. 'Tis well for me, _he_ isof this opinion: for if he thinks justly, which I must question, _anybody_ may think so still much more; for I have been far from takingpains to engage his good word, having been under more reserve to him, than ever I was before to any body. 

Indeed, I can't help it: for the gentleman is forward withoutdelicacy; and (pardon me, Sir Simon) my papa has not one bit of itneither; but is for pushing matters on, with his rough raillery, thatputs me out of countenance, and has already adjusted the sordid partof the preliminaries, as he tells me. 

Yet I hope Nancy's three thousand pound fortune more than I am likelyto 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 allrestraint, and return to my usual freedom. 

This is all that occurs worthy of notice from us: but from you, weexpect an account of Lady Davers's visit, and of the conversationsthat offer among you; and you have so delightful a way of making everything momentous, either by your subject or reflections, or both, thatwe long for every post-day, in hopes of the pleasure of a letter. Andyours I will always carefully preserve, as so many testimonies of thehonour I receive in this correspondence: which will be always esteemedas it deserves, by, my dear Mrs. B. , _your obliged and faithful_

POLLY DARNFORD. 

Mrs. Peters, Mrs. Jones, my papa, mamma, and sister, present theirrespects. Mr. Peters I mentioned before. He continues to give a verygood account of poor Jewkes; and is much pleased with her. 

LETTER XXIX

MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, At your desire, and to oblige your honoured mamma, and your goodneighbours, I will now acquaint you with the arrival of Lady Davers, and will occasionally write what passes among us, I will not sayworthy of notice; for were I only to do so, I should be more brief, perhaps, by much, than you seem to expect. But as my time is prettymuch taken up, and I find I shall be obliged to write a bit now, anda bit then, you must excuse me, if I dispense with some forms, which Iought to observe, when I write to one I so dearly love; and so I willgive it journal-wise, as it were, and have no regard, when it wouldfetter or break in upon my freedom of narration, to inscription orsubscription; but send it as I have opportunity, and if you please tofavour me 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 promiserequire me to give an account of my proceedings, it will save metranscription, for which I shall have no time; and then you willexcuse blots and blurs, and I will trouble myself no farther forapologies on that score, but this once for all. 

If you think it worth while when they have read it, you shall have itagain. 

WEDNESDAY MORNING, SIX O'CLOCK. 

For my dear friend permits me to rise an hour sooner than usual, thatI may have time to scribble; for he is always pleased to see me soemployed, or in reading; often saying, when I am at my needle, (as hissister once wrote) "Your maids can do this, Pamela: but they cannotwrite as you can. " And yet, as he says, when I choose to follow myneedle, as a diversion from too intense study, (but, alas! I know notwhat study is, as may be easily guessed by my hasty writing, puttingdown every thing as it comes) I shall then do as I please. But Ipromised at setting out, what a good wife I'd endeavour to make: andevery honest body should try to be as good as her word, you know, andsuch particulars as I then mentioned, I think I ought to dispense withas little as possible; especially as I promised no more than what wasmy duty to perform, if I had _not_ promised. But what a preamble ishere? Judge by it what impertinences 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, asshe said, to see _me_; and this was her principal inducement. The twoladies, and their two women, were in Lord Davers's coach and six, andmy lord and his nephew rode on horseback, attended with a train ofservants. 

We had expected them to dinner; but they could not reach time enough;for the countess being a little incommoded with her journey, the coachtravelled slowly. My lady would not suffer her lord, nor his nephew, to come hither before her, though on horseback, because she would bepresent, she said, when his lordship first saw me, he having quiteforgot _her mother's Pamela_; that was her word. 

It rained when they came in; so the coach drove directly to the door, and Mr. B. Received them there; but I was in a little sort of flutter, which Mr. B. Observing, made me sit down in the parlour to composemyself. "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, andkissed 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 her eye, and said, "Indeed, Lady Davers, you have not. 'Twould have been strange (excuseme, Mrs. B. , for I know your story), if such a fine flower had notbeen 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: "Seehere, my lord, my mother's Pamela. "--"And see here, my lord, " saidher generous brother, taking my other hand most kindly, "see here yourbrother'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 Jackey, after his aunt's example, when she is in good humour with him, and who is a very _young_gentleman, though about 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 ofrepeating 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 mehalf 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 creditto my brother, as he has done you credit. Why do you let her lace sotight, Mr. B. ?"

I was unable to look up, as you may believe, Miss: my face, all overscarlet, was hid in my bosom, and I looked so _silly!_--

"Ay, " said my naughty lady, "you may well look down, my good girl: forworks of this nature will not be long hidden. --And, oh! my lady, " (tothe countess) "see how like a pretty _thief_ she looks!"

"Dear my lady!" said I: for she still kept looking at me: and her goodbrother, seeing my confusion, in pity to me, pressed my blushing facea moment to his generous breast, and said, "Lady Davers, you shouldnot be thus hard upon my dear girl, the moment you see her, and beforeso many witnesses:--but look up, my best love, take your revenge of mysister, 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. Iwill now love you better and better: but I almost doubted it, seeingher still so slender. But if, my good child, you lace too tight, I'llnever forgive you. " And so she gave me a kiss of congratulation, asshe said. 

Do you think I did not look very silly? My lord, smiling, and gazingat me from head to foot; Lord Jackey grinning and laughing, likean oaf, as I then, in my spite, thought. Indeed the countess said, encouragingly to me, but severely in persons of birth, "Lady Davers, you are as much too teazing, as Mrs. B. Is too bashful. But you are ahappy man, Mr. B. , that your lady's bashfulness is the principal markby which we can judge she is not of quality. " Lord Jackey, in thelanguage of some character in a play, cried out, "_A palpable hit, byJupiter!_" 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 firstcompliment, and by an aspect as noble as intelligent, overawed me, as I may say, into a respectful silence, to which Lady Davers'sfree, though pleasant raillery (which she could not help carrying onnow-and-then) contributed. Besides, Lady Davers's letters had given mestill greater reason to revere her wit and judgment than I had before, when I reflected on her passionate temper, and such parts of theconversation I had 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 littlediffidently: 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;"I sat down in my usual seat. And my lady said, "None of yourreproaching eye, Pamela; I know what you hint at by it; and everyletter 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; and you shall have it all in goodtime. "

"I am sure, " said I, "I shall have nothing from your ladyship, butwhat will be very agreeable: but, indeed, I never meant any thingparticular by that, or any other word that I wrote; nor could I thinkof any thing but what was highly respectful to your ladyship. "

Lord Davers was pleased to say, that it was impossible I should eitherwrite or speak any thing that could be taken amiss. 

Lady Davers, after supper, and the servants were withdrawn, begana discourse on titles, and said, "Brother, I think you should holdyourself obliged to my Lord Davers; for he has spoken to Lord S. Whomade him a visit a few days ago, to procure you a baronet'spatent. Your estate, and the figure you make in the world, are soconsiderable, and your family besides is so ancient, that, methinks, you should wish for some distinction of that sort. "

"Yes, brother, " said my lord, "I did mention it to Lord S. And toldhim, withal, that it was without your knowledge or desire that I spokeabout it; and I was not very sure you would accept of it; but 'tis athing 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 tooblige a man of Mr. B. 's figure in the world; but you mention it soslightly, that you can hardly expect courtiers will tender it to anygentleman that is so indifferent about it; for, Lord Davers, we seldomgrant honours without a view: I tell you that, ' added he, smiling. "

"My Lord S. Might mention this as a jest, " returned Mr. B. , "but hespoke the truth. But your lordship said well, that I was indifferentabout it. 'Tis true, 'tis an hereditary title; but the rich citizens, who used to be satisfied with the title of Knight, (till they made itso common, that it is brought into as great contempt almost as thatof the French knights of St. Michael, [1] and nobody cares to acceptof it) now are ambitious of this; and, as I apprehend, it is hasteningapace into like disrepute. Besides, 'tis a novel honour, and what theancestors of our family, who lived at its institution, would neveraccept of. But were it a peerage, which has some essential privilegesand splendours annexed to it, to make it desirable to some men, Iwould not enter into conditions for it. Titles at best, " added he, "are but shadows; and he that has the substance should be abovevaluing them; for who that has the whole bird, would pride himselfupon a single feather?"

"But, " said my lady, "although I acknowledge that the institution isof late date, yet, as abroad, as well as at home, it is regarded asa title of dignity, and the best families among the gentryare supposed to be distinguished by it, I should wish you toaccept of it. And as to citizens who have it, they are not many; andsome of this class of people, or their immediate descendants, havebought themselves into the peerage itself of the one kingdom or theother. "

[Footnote 1: This order was become so scandalously common in France, that, to order to suppress it, the hangman was vested with the ensignsof it, which effectually abolished it. ]

"As to what it is looked upon abroad, " said Mr. B. , "this is of noweight at all; for when an Englishman travels, be he of what degreehe will, if he has an equipage, and squanders his money away, he is alord of course with foreigners: and therefore Sir Such-a-one is rathera diminution to him, as it gives him a lower title than his vanitywould perhaps make him aspire to be thought in the possessionof. Then, as to citizens, in a trading nation like this, I am notdispleased in the main, with seeing the overgrown ones creeping intonominal honours; and we have so many of our first titled families, whohave allied themselves to trade, (whose inducements were money only)that it ceases to be either a wonder as to the fact, or a disgrace asto the honour. "

"Well, brother, " said my lady, "I will tell you farther, the thing maybe had for asking for; if you will but go to court, and desire to kissthe king's hand, that will be all the trouble you'll have: and praynow 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 satisfiedwith some of the measures now pursuing, as to owe any obligationto the ministers. Accepting of a small title from them, is but likeputting on their badge, or listing under their banners; like a certainlord we all know, who accepted of one degree more of title to shew hewas theirs, and would not have an higher, lest it should be thought asatisfaction tantamount to half the pension he demanded: and could Ibe easy to have it supposed, that I was an ungrateful man for votingas I pleased, because they gave me the title of a baronet?"

The countess said, the world always thought Mr. B. To be a man ofsteady principles, and not attached to any party; but, in her opinion, it was far from being inconsistent with any gentleman's honour andindependency, to accept of a title from a prince he acknowledged ashis sovereign. 

"'Tis very true. Madam, that I am attached to no party, nor ever will. I will be a _country gentleman_, in the true sense of the word, andwill 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 otherhand, I should scorn to make myself a round to any man's ladder ofpreferment, or a caballer for the sake of my own. "

"You say well, brother, " returned Lady Davers; "but you mayundoubtedly keep your own principles and independency, and yet payyour duty to the king, and accept of this title; for your family andfortune will be a greater ornament to the title, than the title toyou. "

"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'ssake, as it is an hereditary honour. Then it would mend the style ofyour spouse here; for the good girl is at such a loss for an epithetwhen she writes, that I see the constraint she lies under. It is, '_My dear gentleman, my best friend, my benefactor, my dear Mr. B. _'whereas Sir William would turn off her periods more roundly, and noother softer epithets would be wanting. "

"To me, " replied he, "who always desire to be distinguished as myPamela's best friend, and think it an honour to be called _her dearMr. B. And her dear man_, this reason weighs very little, unless therewere no other Sir William in the kingdom than _her_ Sir William: forI am very emulous of her favour, I can tell you, and think it no smalldistinction. "

I blushed at this too great honour, before such company, and wasafraid my lady would be a little picqued at it. But after a pause, she said, "Well, then, brother, will you let Pamela decide upon thispoint?"

"Rightly put, " said the countess. "Pray let Mrs. B. Choose for you, Sir. My lady has hit the thing. "

"Very good, by my soul, " says Lord Jackey; "let my _young aunt_, " thatwas his word, "choose for you, Sir. "

"Well, then, Pamela, " said Mr. B. , "give us your opinion, as to thispoint. "

"But, first, " said Lady Davers, "say you will be determined by it; orelse she will be laid under a difficulty. "

"Well, then, " replied he, "be it so--I will be determined by youropinion, my dear; give it me freely. "

Lord Jackey rubbed his hands together, "Charming, charming, as I hopeto live! By Jove, this is just as I wished!"

"Well, now, Pamela, " said my lady, "speak your true heart withoutdisguise: I charge you do. "

"Why then, gentlemen and ladies, " said I, "if I must be so bold as tospeak on a subject, upon which on several accounts, it would become meto be silent, I should be _against_ the title; but perhaps my reasonis of too private a nature to weigh any thing: and if so, it would notbecome me to have any choice at all. "

They all called upon me for my reason; and I said, looking downa little abashed, "It is this: Here my dear Mr. B. Has disparagedhimself by distinguishing, as he has done, such a low creature as I;and the world will be apt to say, he is seeking to repair _oneway_ the honour he has lost _another!_ and then perhaps, it will beattributed to my pride and ambition: 'Here, they will perhaps say, 'the proud cottager will needs be a lady in hopes to conceal herdescent;' whereas, had I such a vain thought, it would be but makingit the more remembered against both Mr. B. And myself. And indeed, asto my own part, I take too much pride in having been lifted up intothis distinction for the causes to which I owe it, your brother's_bounty_ and _generosity_, than to be ashamed of what I _was_: onlynow-and-then I am concerned for his own sake, lest he should be toomuch censured. But this would not be prevented, but rather be promotedby 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 foldinghis arms about me, said, "Just as I wished, have you answered, mybeloved Pamela; I was never yet deceived in you; no, not once. "

"Madam, " said he to the countess, "Lord Davers, Lady Davers, do wewant any titles, think you, to make us happy but what we can conferupon ourselves?" And he pressed my hand to his lips, as he alwayshonours me most in company and went to his place highly pleased; whilehis fine manner drew tears from my eyes, and made his noble sister'sand 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?" Thenpleasantly humorous, as if she was angry, she changed her tone, "Whatsignify thy _meek_ words and _humble_ speeches when by thy _actions_, as well as _sentiments_, thou reflectest upon us all? Pamela, " saidshe, "have less merit, or take care to conceal it better: I shallotherwise have no more patience with thee, than thy monarch has justnow shewn. "

The countess was pleased to say, "You're a happy couple indeed!"

Such sort of entertainment as this you are to expect from yourcorrespondent. I cannot do better than I can; and it may appear sucha mixture of self-praise, vanity, and impertinence, that I expect youwill tell me freely, as soon as this comes to your hand, whether it betolerable to you. Yet I must write on, for my dear father and mother'ssake, who require it of me, and are prepared to approve of every thingthat comes from me, for no other reason but that: and I think youought to leave me to write to them only, as I cannot hope it will beentertaining to any body else, without expecting as much partialityand favour from others, as I have from my dear parents. Mean timeI conclude here my first conversation-piece; and am, and will be, _always yours, &c. _ P. B. 

LETTER XXX

THURSDAY MORNING, SIX O'CLOCK. 

Our breakfast conversation yesterday (at which only Mrs. Worden, mylady's woman, and my Polly attended) was so whimsically particular, (though I doubt some of it, at least, will appear too trifling) thatI must acquaint my dear Miss Darnford with it, who is desirous ofknowing all that relates to Lady Davers's conduct towards me. 

You must know, then, I have the honour to stand very high in thegraces of Lord Davers, who on every occasion is pleased to call me his_good Sister_, 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 cannotquite 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, andsaying, "I will drink another dish, I think, my _good Sister_. " Mylady said, "Your lordship has got a word by the end, that you seemmighty fond of: I have taken notice, that you have called Pamela_Sister, Sister, Sister_, no less than three times in a quarter of anhour. "

My lord looked a little serious: "I shall one day, " said he, "beallowed to choose my own words and phrases, I hope--Your sister, Mr. B. , " added he, "often questions whether I am at age or not, though theHouse of Peers made no scruple of admitting me among them some yearsago. "

Mr. B. Said severely, but with a smiling air, "'Tis well she hassuch a gentleman as your lordship for a husband, whose affectionateindulgence 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 thoughtourselves, I in particular, bound to pray for you. "

I thought this a great trial of my lady's patience: but it was fromMr. B. And she said, with a half-pleasant, half-serious air, "How now, Confidence!--None but my brother could have said this, whose violentspirit was always much more intolerable than mine: but I can tell you, Mr. B. , I was always thought very good-humoured and obliging to everybody, till your impudence came from college, and from your travels;and then, I own, your provoking ways made me now-and-then a little outof the way. "

"Well, well, sister, we'll have no more of this subject; only letus 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 mischiefbetwixt us if he can--I only took notice of the word _Sister_ so oftenused, which looked more like affectation than affection. "

"Perhaps, Lady Davers, " said my lord, gravely, "I have two reasons forusing the word so frequently. "

"I'd be glad to hear them, " said the dear taunting lady; "for I don'tdoubt 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 Daverscan give two reasons why she does _not_. "

"Well, " said my lady, "now we are in for't, let us hear _your_ tworeasons likewise; I doubt not they're wise ones too. "

"If they are _yours_, Lady Davers, they must be so. One is, That everycondescension (to speak in a proud lady's dialect) comes with as muchdifficulty from her, as a favour from the House of Austria tothe petty princes of Germany. The second, Because those of yoursex--(Excuse me, Madam, " to the countess) "who have once madescruples, think it inconsistent with themselves to be over hasty toalter their own conduct, choosing rather to persist in an error, thanown it to be one. "

This proceeded from his impatience to see me in the least slightedby my lady; and I said to Lord Davers, to soften matters, "Never, my lord, were brother and sister so loving in earnest, and yet sosatirical upon each other in jest, as my good lady and Mr. B. But yourlordship knows their way. "

My lady frowned at her brother, but turned it off with an air: "Ilove the mistress of this house, " said she, "very well; and am quitereconciled to her: but methinks there is such a hissing sound in theword _Sister_, that I cannot abide it. 'Tis a true English word, buta word I have not been used to, having never had a sis-s-s-terbefore, as you know, "--Speaking the first syllable of the word with anemphatical hiss. 

Mr. B. Said, "Observe you not, Lady Davers, that you used a word (toavoid that) which had twice the hissing in it that _sister_ has? Andthat 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 pridemake one stoop!--Excuse, Madam" (to the countess), "such poor lowconversation as we are dwindled into. "

"O Sir, " said her ladyship, "the conversation is very agreeable;--andI think, Lady Davers, you're fairly caught. "

"Well, " said my lady, "then help me, good _sister_--there's foryou!--to a little sugar. Will that please you, Sir?"

"I am always pleased, " replied her brother, smiling, "when Lady Daversacts up to her own character, and the good sense she is mistress of. "

"Ay, ay, my good brother, like other wise men, takes it for grantedthat it is a mark of good sense to approve of whatever _he_ does. --Andso, for this one time, I am a very sensible body with him--And I'llleave off, while I have his good word. Only one thing I must say toyou, my dear, " turning to me, "that though I call you Pamela, as Iplease, be assured, I love you as well as if I called you _sister_, asLord Davers does, at every word. "

"Your ladyship gives me great pleasure, " said I, "in this kindassurance; and I don't doubt but I shall have the honour of beingcalled 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 howsincerely I will endeavour to do so. "

She was pleased to rise from her seat: "Give me a kiss, my dear girl;you deserve every thing: and permit me to say Pamela sometimes, as theword 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 lovedanother. "

"These proud and passionate folks, " said Mr. B. , "how good they canbe, 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 onemight 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 apraise, that you think fit to own for a sister so deserving a girl asthis, whom I take pride in calling my wife?"

"Thou art what thou always wert, " returned my lady; "and were I inthis my imputed pride to want an excuse, I know not the creatureliving, 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 thatwants excuse. "

"Mighty moral! mighty grave, truly!--Pamela, friend, sister, --there'sfor you!--thou art a happy girl to have made such a reformation inthy honest man's way of _thinking_ as well as _acting_. But now we areupon this topic, and only friends about us, I am resolved to be evenwith thee, brother--Jackey, if you are not for another dish, I wishyou'd withdraw. Polly Barlow, we don't want you. Beck, you may stay. "Mr. H. Obeyed; and Polly went out; for you must know, Miss, that myLady Davers will have none of the men-fellows, as she calls them, toattend upon us at tea. And I cannot say but I think her entirely inthe right, for several reasons that might be given. 

When they were withdrawn, my lady repeated, "Now we are upon thistopic of reclaiming and reformation, tell me, thou bold wretch; foryou 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 thisdear good girl, in presence of a virtuous woman, as Mrs. Jervis wasalways noted to be? As to the other vile creature, Jewkes, 'tis lesswonder, although in _that_ thou hadst the impudence of _him_ who setthee to work: but to make thy attempt before Mrs. Jervis, and in spiteof _her_ struggles and reproaches, was the very stretch of shamelesswickedness. "

Mr. B. Seemed a little disconcerted, and said, "Surely, Lady Davers, this is going too far! Look at Pamela's blushing face, and downcasteye, and wonder at yourself for this question, as much as you do at mefor the action you speak of. "

The countess said to me, "My dear Mrs. B. , I wonder not at this sweetconfusion on so affecting a question!--but, indeed, since it iscome in so naturally, I must say, Mr. B. , that we have all, andmy daughters too, wondered at this, more than at any part of yourattempts; because, Sir, we thought you one of the most civilized menin England, and that you could not but wish to have saved appearancesat least. "

"Though this is to you, my Pamela, the renewal of griefs; yet holdup your dear face. You may--The triumph was yours--the shame and theblushes ought to be mine--And I will humour my saucy sister in all shewould have me say. "

"Nay, " said Lady Davers, "you know the question; I cannot put itstronger. "

"That's very true, " replied he: "But would you expect I should giveyou a _reason_ for an attempt that appears to you so very shocking?"

"Nay, Sir, " said the countess, "don't say _appears_ to Lady 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 hasmade all the amends he could make:--and _you_, my sister, who were theperson offended, forgive him now, I hope; don't you?"

I could not answer; for I was quite confounded; and made a motion towithdraw: but Mr. B. Said, "Don't go, my dear: though I ought to beashamed of an action set before me in so full a glare, in presence ofLord Davers and the countess; yet I will not have you stir because Iforget how you represented it, and you must tell me. "

"Indeed, Sir, I cannot, " said I; "pray, my dear ladies--pray, my goodlord--and, dear Sir, don't thus _renew my griefs_, as you were pleasedjustly 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 wretchwith it the first opportunity; and I'll read it to you; or rather, youshall read it yourself, Bold-face, if you can. "

So she pulled those leaves out of her pocket, wrapped up carefully ina 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 howit was. "

"I think, " said he, taking the papers, "I can say something to abatethe heinousness of this heavy charge, or else I should not stand thusat the insolent bar of my sister, answering her interrogatories. "

I send you, my dear Miss Darnford, a transcript of the charge. To besure, you'll say, he was a very wicked man. 

Mr. B. Read it to himself, and said, "This is a dark affair, as herestated; and I can't say, but Pamela, and Mrs. Jervis too, had greatreason to apprehend the worst: but surely readers of it, who were lessparties in the supposed attempt, and not determined at all events tocondemn me, might have made a more favourable construction for me, than you, Lady Davers, have done in the strong light in which you haveset this heinous matter before us. 

"However, since my lady, " bowing to the countess, "and Lord Daversseem to expect me particularly to answer this black charge, I will, at a proper time, if agreeable, give you a brief history of mypassion for this dear girl; how it commenced and increased, and my ownstruggles with it, and this will introduce, with some little advantageto myself perhaps, what I have to say, as to this supposed attempt:and at the same time enable you the better to account for some factswhich you have read in my pretty accuser's papers. "

This pleased every one, and they begged him to begin _then_; but hesaid, it was time we should think of dressing, the morning being faradvanced; and if no company came in, he would, in the afternoon, givethem the particulars they desired to hear. 

The three gentlemen rode out, and returned to dress before dinner: mylady and the countess also took an airing in the chariot. Just as theyreturned, compliments came from several of the neighbouring ladies toour noble guests, on their arrival in these parts; and to as many assent, Lady Davers desired their companies for to-morrow afternoon, totea; 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 whomhe is very fond, ever since he frightened Lady Davers's footmen atthe Hall, threatening to chine them, if they offered to stop his lady:for, he says, he loves a man of courage: very probably knowing hisown defects that way, for my lady often calls him a chicken-heartedfellow. And then Lord and Lady Davers, and the countess, revived thesubject of the morning; and Mr. B. Was pleased to begin in the mannerI shall mention by-and-bye. For here I am obliged to break off. 

Now, my dear Miss Darnford, I will proceed. 

"I began, " said Mr. B. , "very early to take notice of this lovelygirl, even when she was hardly thirteen years old; for her charmsincreased every day, not only in my eye, but in the eyes of all whobeheld her. My mother, as _you_ (Lady Davers) know, took the greatestdelight in her, always calling her, her Pamela, her good child: andher waiting-maid and her cabinet of rarities were her boasts, andequally shewn to every visitor: for besides the beauty of her figure, and the genteel air of her person, the dear girl had a surprisingmemory, a solidity of judgment above her years, and a docility sounequalled, that she took all parts of learning which her lady, asfond of instructing her as she of improving by instruction, crowdedupon her; insomuch that she had masters to teach her to dance, sing, and play on the spinnet, whom she every day surprised by the readinesswherewith she took every thing. 

"I remember once, my mother praising her girl before me, and my auntB. (who is since dead), I could not but notice her fondness for her, and said, 'What do you design, Madam, to do _with_ or _for_, thisPamela of yours? The accomplishments you give her will do her morehurt than good; for they will set her so much above her degree, thatwhat you intend as a kindness, may prove her ruin. '

"My aunt joined with me, and spoke in a still stronger manner againstgiving her such an education: and added, as I well remember, 'Surely, sister, you do wrong. One would think, if one knew not my nephew'sdiscreet pride, that you design her for something more than your ownwaiting-maid. '

"'Ah! sister, ' said the old lady, 'there is no fear of what you hintat; his family pride, and stately temper, will secure my son: he hastoo much of his father in him. And as for Pamela, you know not thegirl. She has always in her thoughts, and in her mouth, too, herparents' mean condition, and I shall do nothing for _them_, at leastat present, though they are honest folks, and deserve well, because Iwill keep the girl humble. '

"'But what can I do with the little baggage?' continued my mother;'she conquers every thing so fast, and has such a thirst afterknowledge, 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 todo 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 makeher mistress of some fine needle-work, to qualify her (as she has adelicacy in her person, that makes it a pity ever to put her to hardwork) for a genteel place; but she masters that so fast, that now asmy daughter is married and gone from me, I am desirous to qualify herto divert and entertain me in my thoughtful hours: and were _you_, sister, to know what she is capable of, and how diverting her innocentprattle is to me, and her natural simplicity, which I encourage herto 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 bettercompanion for a lady, than a monkey or a harlequin: but I fear you'llset 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 maybe fatal to herself, and others too. '

"'I'm glad to hear this from my _son_, ' replied the good lady. 'Butthe moment I see my favour puffs her up, I shall take other measures. '

"'Well, ' thought I to myself, 'I only want to conceal my views fromyour penetrating eye, my good mother; and I shall one day take as muchdelight in your girl, and her accomplishments, as you now do; so goon, and improve her as fast as you will. I'll only now and then talkagainst her, to blind you; and doubt not that all you do will qualifyher the better for my purpose. Only, ' thought I, 'fly swiftly on, twoor three more tardy years, and I'll nip this bud by the time it beginsto open, and place it in my bosom for a year or two at least: for solong, if the girl behaves worthy of her education, I doubt not, she'llbe new to me. --Excuse me, ladies;--excuse me, Lord Davers;--if I amnot ingenuous, I had better be silent. "

I will not interrupt this affecting narration, by mentioning my ownalternate blushes, confusions, and exclamations, as the naughty manwent on; nor the censures, and many _Out upon you's_ of the attentiveladies, and _Fie, brother's_, of Lord Davers; nor yet with apologiesfor the praises on myself, so frequently intermingled--contentingmyself to give you, as near as I can recollect, the very sentencesof the dear relator. And as to our occasional exclaimings andobservations, you may suppose what they were. 

"So, " continued Mr. B. , "I went on dropping hints against her now andthen; and whenever I met her in the passages about the house, or inthe garden, avoiding to look at, or to speak to her, as she passed me, curtseying, and putting on a thousand bewitching airs of obligingnessand reverence; while I (who thought the best way to demolish theinfluence of such an education, would be not to alarm her fears onone hand, or to familiarize myself to her on the other, till I came tostrike the blow) looked haughty and reserved, and passed by her witha 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 ofanswering my questions, she'd trip away in a kind of confusion, assoon 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 verygood, 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 fastas you will: I'll engage to pull down in three hours, what you'llbe building up in as many years, in spite of all the lessons you canteach her. '

"'Tis enough for me, that I am establishing in you, ladies, and inyou, my lord, a higher esteem for my Pamela (I am but too sensible Ishall lose a good deal of my own reputation) in the relation I am nowgiving you. 

"I dressed, grew more confident, and as insolent withal, as if, thoughI had not Lady Davers's wit and virtue, I had all her spirit--(excuseme, Lady Davers;) and having a pretty bold heart, which rather put meupon courting than avoiding a danger or difficulty, I had but too muchmy way with every body; and many a menaced complaint have I _lookeddown_, with a haughty air, and a promptitude, like that of Colbrand'sto your footmen at the Hall, to clap my hand to my side; which was ofthe greater service to my bold enterprise, as two or three gentlemenhad found I knew how to be in earnest. "

"Ha!" said my lady, "thou wast ever an impudent fellow: and many avile roguery have I kept from my poor mother. --Yet, to my 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, ' shewould cry, 'these late hours, these all night works, and to come homeso _sober_ cannot be right. -I'm not sure, if I were to know all, (andyet I'm afraid of inquiring after your ways) whether I should not havereason to wish you were brought home in wine, rather than to come inso sober, and so late, as you do. '

"Once, I remember, in the summer-time, I came home about six in themorning, and met the good lady unexpectedly by the garden back-door, of which I had a key to let myself in at all hours. I started, and would have avoided her: but she called me to her, and then Iapproached her with an air, 'What brings you, Madam, into the gardenat so early an hour?' turning my face from her; for I had a fewscratches on my forehead--with a thorn, or so--which I feared shewould be more inquisitive about than I cared she should. 

"'And what makes you, ' said she, 'so early here, Billy?--What arakish figure dost thou make!--One time or other these courses willyield you but little comfort, on reflection: would to God thou wastbut happily married!'

"'So, Madam, the old wish!--I'm not so bad as you think me:--I hope Ihave not merited so great a punishment. '

"These hints I give, not as matter of glory, but shame: yet I ought totell you all the truth, or nothing. 'Meantime, ' thought I, (for I usedto have some compunction for my vile practices, when cool reflection, brought on by satiety, had taken hold of me) 'I wish this sweet girlwas grown to years of susceptibility, that I might reform this wickedcourse of life, and not prowl about, disturbing honest folks' peace, and endangering myself. ' And as I had, by a certain very daring andwicked attempt, in which, however, I did not succeed, set a hornet'snest about my ears, which I began to apprehend would sting me todeath, having once escaped an ambush by dint of mere good luck;I thought it better to remove the seat of my warfare into anotherkingdom, 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 thebest of company, and with some improvement both to my morals andunderstanding; and had a very few sallies, considering my love ofintrigue, and the ample means I had to prosecute successfully all thedesires of my heart. 

"When I returned, several matches were proposed to me, and my goodmother often requested me to make her so happy, as she called it, asto see me married before she died; but I could not endure the thoughtsof the state: for I never saw a lady whose temper and education Iliked, or with whom I thought I could live tolerably. She used in vaintherefore to plead family reasons to me:--like most young fellows, Iwas 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 werecontinued or not, in my own descendants. However, I looked uponmy mother's Pamela with no small pleasure, and I found her somuch improved, as well in person as behaviour, that I had the lessinducement either to renew my intriguing life, or to think of amarried state. 

"Yet, as my mother had all her eyes about her, as the phrase is, I affected great shyness, both before her, and to the girl; for Idoubted not, my very looks would be watched by them both; and what theone discovered would not be a secret to the other; and laying myselfopen 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, without taking the least notice of her, but put on stiff airs; and asshe always withdrew when I came in, I never made any pretence to keepher there. 

"Once, indeed, my mother, on my looking after her, when her back wasturned, said, 'My dear son, I don't like your eye following my girlso intently. --Only I know that sparkling lustre natural to it, or Ishould have some fear for my Pamela, as she grows older. '

"'_I_ 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 seenothing but clumsy curtseys and awkward airs about her. A littlerustic 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; youhave taught her to assume the airs of a gentlewoman, to dance, andto enter a room with a grace; and yet bid her keep her low birth andfamily in view: and between the one character, which she wants to getinto, and the other she dares not get out of, she trips up and downmincingly, and knows not how to set her feet: so 'tis the same inevery gesture: her arms she knows not whether to swim with, or tohold before her, nor whether to hold her head up or down; and sodoes neither, but hangs it on one side: a little awkward piece ofone-and-t'other I think her. And, indeed, you'd do the girl morekindness to put her into your dairy, than to keep her about yourperson; for she'll be utterly spoiled, I doubt, for any usefulpurpose. '

"'Ah, son!' said she, 'I fear, by your description, you have mindedher too much in one sense, though not enough in another. 'Tis not myintention to recommend her to your notice, of all men; and I doubtnot, if it please God I live, and she continues a good girl, but shewill make a man of some middling, genteel business, very happy. '

"Pamela came in just then, with an air so natural, so humble, and yetso much above herself, that I was forced to turn my head from her, lest my mother should watch my eye again, and I be inclined to do herthat justice, which my heart assented to, but which my lips had justbefore denied her. 

"All my difficulty, in apprehension, was my good mother; the effectof whose lessons to her girl, I was not so much afraid of as hervigilance. 'For, ' thought I, 'I see by the delicacy of her person, thebrilliancy of her eye, and the sweet apprehensiveness that playsabout every feature of her face, she must have tinder enough in herconstitution, to catch a well-struck spark; and I'll warrant I shallknow 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 herto turn after me, and look so as to shew a liking towards me; for Ihad a great opinion of my person and air, which had been fortunatelydistinguished by the ladies, whom, of course, my vanity made me allowto be very good judges of these outward advantages. 

"But to my great disappointment, Pamela never, by any favourableglance, gave the least encouragement to my vanity. 'Well, ' thought I, 'this girl has certainly nothing ethereal in her mould: all unanimatedclay!--But the dancing and singing airs my mother is teaching her, will better qualify her in time, and another year will ripen her intomy 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 afterwardsvouchsafe to shew her: and never question old _humdrum_ Virtue, 'thought I, 'but the tempter _without_, and the tempter _within_, willbe too many for the perversest nicety that ever the sex boasted. '

"Yet, though I could not once attract her eye towards me, she neverfailed to draw mine after her, whenever she went by me, or wherever Isaw her, except, as I said, in my mother's presence; and particularlywhen she had passed me, and could not see me look at her, withoutturning her head, as I expected so often from her in vain. 

"You will wonder, Lord Davers, who, I suppose, was once in love, oryou'd never have married such an 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 alldiscovery so long from a lady so watchful as my mother, and from theapprehensiveness of the girl. 

"But, to say nothing of her tender years, and that my love was not ofthis bashful sort, I was not absolutely determined, so great was mypride, that I ought to think her worthy of being my _mistress_, whenI had not much reason, as I thought, to despair of prevailing uponpersons of higher birth (were I disposed to try) to live with me uponmy own terms. My pride, therefore, kept my passion at bay, as I maysay: so far was I from imagining I should ever be brought to what hassince happened! But to proceed:

"Hitherto my mind was taken up with the beauties of her person only. My EYE had drawn my HEART after it, without giving myself any troubleabout that sense and judgment which my mother was always praising inher Pamela, as exceeding her years and opportunities: but an occasionhappened, which, though slight in itself, took the HEAD into theparty, 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 oldsubject, _matrimony_, I saw Pamela's commonplace book, as I may callit; in which, by her lady's direction, from time to time, she hadtranscribed from the Bible, and other good books, such passagesas 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 intowriting with that freedom and ease, which shine in your saucy lettersand journals; and to which my present fetters are not a little owing:just as pedlars catch monkeys in the baboon kingdoms, provoking theattentive fools, by their own example, to put on shoes and stockings, till the apes of imitation, trying to do the like, entangle theirfeet, and so cannot escape upon the boughs of the tree of liberty, onwhich before they were wont to hop and skip about, and play a thousandpuggish tricks. 

"I observed the girl wrote a pretty hand, and very swift and free;and affixed her points or stops with so much judgment (heryears considered), that I began to have an high opinion of herunderstanding. Some observations likewise upon several of the passageswere so just and solid, that I could not help being tacitly surprisedat them. 

"My mother watched my eye, and was silent: I seemed not to observethat she did; and after a while, laid down the book, shutting it withgreat indifference, and talking of another subject. 

"Upon this, my mother said, 'Don't you think Pamela writes a prettyhand, son?'

"'I did not mind it much, ' said I, with a careless air. 'This is herwriting, is it?' taking the book, and opening it again, at a place ofScripture. 'The girl is mighty pious!' said I. 

"'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 I, 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 uponsome place that may strike you. '

"I opened it at--'_Train up a child in the way it should go_, ' &c. 'Ifancy, ' said I, 'when I was of Pamela's age, I was pretty near as goodas she. '

"'Never, never, ' said my mother; 'I am sure I took great pains withyou; but, alas I to very little purpose. You had always a violentheadstrong will. '

"'Some allowances for boys and girls, I hope, Madam; but you see I amas good for a man as my sister for a woman. '

"'No indeed, you are not, I do assure you. '

"'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 mymother. 

"I did; and was pleased with it more than I would own. 'The girl'swell enough, ' said I, 'for what she is; but let's see what she'll be afew 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 talkingof matrimony, or of this low-born, raw girl, it must needs lessen thepleasure of approaching you. '

"But now, as I hinted to you, ladies, and my lord, I had a stillhigher opinion of Pamela; and esteemed her more worthy of my attempts. 'For, ' thought I, 'the girl has good sense, and it will be somepleasure to watch by what gradations she may be made to rise intolove, and into a higher life, than that to which she was born. ' And soI began to think she would be worthy in time of being my _mistress, _which, till now, as I said before, I had been a little scrupulousabout. 

"I took a little tour soon after this in company of some friends, withwhom I had contracted an intimacy abroad, into Scotland and Ireland, they having a curiosity to see those countries, and we spent six oreight months on this expedition; and when I had landed them in France, I returned home, and found my good mother in a very indifferent stateof health, but her Pamela arrived to a height of beauty and perfectionwhich exceeded all my expectations. I was so taken with her charmswhen I first saw her, which was in the garden, with a book in herhand, just come out of a little summer-house, that I then thought ofobliging her to go back again, in order to begin a parley with her:but while I was resolving, she tript away with her curtesies andreverences, and was out of my sight before I could determine. 

"I was resolved, however, not to be long without her; and Mrs. Jewkeshaving been recommended to me a little before, by a brother-rake, asa woman of tried fidelity, I asked her if she would be faithful, if Ihad occasion to commit a pretty girl to her care?

"She hoped, she said, it would be with the lady's own consent, and sheshould make no scruple in obeying me. 

"So I thought I would way-lay the girl, and carry her first toa little village in Northamptonshire, to an acquaintance of Mrs. Jewkes's. And when I had brought her to be easy and pacified a little, I designed that Jewkes should attend her to Lincolnshire: for I knewthere was no coming at her here, under my mother's wing, by herown consent, and that to offer terms to her, would be to blow up myproject all at once. Besides, I was sensible, that Mrs. Jervis wouldstand in the way of my proceedings as well as my mother. 

"The method I had contrived was quite easy, as I imagined, and suchas 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 fortunevery quickly; for, having a notion of her affectionate duty to herparents, I was not displeased that I could make the terms very easyand happy to them all. 

"What most stood in my way, was my mother's fondness for her: butsupposing 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 aletter for her to transcribe, acknowledging a love-affair, and layingher withdrawing herself so privately, to an implicit obedience to herhusband's commands, to whom she was married that morning, and who, being a young gentleman of genteel family, and dependent on hisfriends, was desirous of keeping it all a profound secret; andbegging, on that account, her lady not to divulge it, so much as toMrs. Jervis. 

"And to prepare for this, and make her escape the more probable, whenmatters were ripe for my plot, I came in one night, and examined allthe servants, and Mrs. Jervis, the latter in my mother's hearing, about a genteel young man, whom I pretended to find with a pillion onthe horse he rode upon, waiting about the back door of the garden, forsomebody 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 the matter, and theywere much surprised at what I told them: but I begged Pamela might bewatched, 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 poorinnocent girl's heart, to be suspected. 'Poor dear child!' saidshe, 'whither can she go, to be so happy as with me? Would it not beinevitable ruin to her to leave me? There is nobody comes after her:she receives no letters, but now-and-then one from her father andmother, and those she shews me. '

"'Well, ' replied I, 'I hope she can have no design; 'twould be strangeif she had formed any to leave so good a mistress; but you can'tbe _sure_ all the letters she receives are from her father; and hershewing to you those he writes, looks like a cloak to others she mayreceive from another hand. But it can be no harm to have an eye uponher. 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 norestraint, if she is resolved to leave me, well as I love her. '

"Mrs. Jervis said, she would have an eye upon Pamela, in obedience tomy command, but she was sure there was no need; nor would she so muchwound 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 goodan opinion of her Pamela, that I was sorry, as I told her, I had sucha surmise: saying, that though the fellow and the pillion were oddcircumstances, yet I dared to say, there was nothing in it: for Idoubted not, the girl's duty and gratitude would hinder her from doinga foolish or rash thing. 

"This my mother heard with pleasure: although my motive was but to layPamela 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 hasno friend but me, ' continued she; 'and if I don't provide for her, Ishall have done her more harm than good (as you and your aunt B. Haveoften said, ) in the accomplishments I have given her: and yet the poorgirl, I see that, ' added she, 'would not be backward to turn her handto 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 nevershall be. '

"I wonder not, Pamela, at your tears on this occasion. Your lady wasan excellent woman, and deserved this tribute to her memory. All mypleasure now is, that she knew not half my wicked pranks, and that Idid not vex her worthy heart in the prosecution of this scheme;which would have given me a severe sting, inasmuch as I might haveapprehended, with too much reason, that I had shortened her days bythe knowledge of the one and the other. 

"I had thus every thing ready for the execution of my project: but mymother's ill state of health gave me too much concern, to permit me toproceed. And, now-and-then, as my frequent attendance in her illnessgave me an opportunity of observing more and more of the girl; heraffectionate duty, and continual tears (finding her often on herknees, praying for her mistress, ) I was moved to pity her; and whilethose scenes of my mother's illness and decline were before me, Iwould resolve to conquer, if possible, my guilty passion, as thosescenes taught me, while their impressions held, justly to call it; andI was much concerned to find it so difficult a task; for, till now, I thought it principally owing to my usual enterprising temper, and alove of intrigue; and that I had nothing to do but to resolve againstit, and to subdue it. 

"But I was greatly mistaken: for I had insensibly brought myselfto admire her in every thing she said or did; and there was so muchgracefulness, humility, and innocence in her whole behaviour, and Isaw so many melting scenes between her lady and her, that I found Icould not master my esteem for her. 

"My mother's illness increasing beyond hopes of recovery, and havingsettled all her greater affairs, she talked to me of her servants; Iasked what she would have done for Pamela and Mrs. Jervis. 

"'Make Mrs. Jervis, my dear son, as happy as you can: she is agentlewoman born, you know; let her always be treated as such; butfor your own sake, don't make her independent; for then you'll want afaithful manager. Yet if you marry, and your lady should not value heras she deserves, allow her a competency for the rest of her life, andlet her live as she pleases. 

"'As for Pamela, I hope you will be her protector!--She is a goodgirl: I love her next to you and your dear sister. She is justarriving at a trying 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 shouldoffer, I would give her a little pretty portion, had God spared mylife till then. But were she made independent, some idle fellow mightsnap her up; for she is very pretty: or if she should carry what yougive her to her poor parents, as her duty would lead her to do, theyare so unhappily involved, that a little matter would be nothing tothem, and the poor girl might be to seek again. Perhaps Lady Daverswill take her. But I wish she was not so pretty! She may be the birdfor which some wicked fowler will spread his snares; or, it may be, every lady will not choose to have such a waiting-maid. You are ayoung gentleman, and I am sorry to say, not better than I wish you tobe--Though I hope my Pamela would not be in danger from her master, who owes all his servants protection, as much as the king does to hissubjects. Yet I don't know how to wish her to stay with you, for yourown reputation's sake, my dear son;--for the world will censure as itlists. --Would to God!' said she, 'the dear girl had the small-pox ina mortifying manner: she'd be lovely though in the genteelness of herperson and the excellencies of her mind; and more out of danger ofsuffering from the transcient 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 gotogether, and live as they like. I think that will be the best forboth. And you have a generous spirit enough: I will not direct youin the _quantum_. But, my dear son, remember that I am the lessconcerned, that I have not done for the poor girl myself, because Idepend upon you: the manner how fitly to provide for her, has made medefer it till now, that I have so much more important concerns on myhands; life and strength ebbing so fast, that I am hardly fit for anything, or to wish for any thing, but to receive the last releasingstroke. '"

Here he stopped, being under some concern himself, and we in muchmore. At last he resumed the subject. 

"You will too naturally think, my lord--and you, my good ladies--thatthe mind must be truly diabolical, that could break through the regarddue to the solemn injunctions of a dying parent. They _did_ hold me agood while indeed; and as fast as I found any emotions of a contrarynature rise in my breast, I endeavoured for some time to suppressthem, and to think and act as I ought; but the dear bewitching girlevery day rose in her charms upon me: and finding she still continuedthe 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 mylove for her, and my own spirit of intrigue, made it a sweetheart ofcourse. And I could not help watching her emotions; and seeing heronce putting a letter she had just folded up, into her bosom, at myentrance into my mother's dressing-room, I made no doubt of detectingher, and her correspondent; and so I took the letter from her stays, she trembling and curtseying with a sweet confusion: and highlypleased I was to find it contained only innocence and duty to thedeceased mistress, and the loving parents, expressing her joy that, in the midst of her grief for losing the one, she was not obligedto return to be a burden to the other; and I gave it her again, withwords of encouragement, and went down much better satisfied than I hadbeen with her correspondence. 

"But when I reflected upon the innocent simplicity of her style, I wasstill more in love with her, and formed a stratagem, and succeeded init, to come at her other letters, which I sent forward, after I hadread them, all but three or four, which I kept back, when my plotbegan to ripen for execution; although the little slut was mostabominably free with my character to her parents. 

"You will censure me, no doubt, that my mother's injunctions made nota more lasting impression. But really I struggled hard with myselfto give them their due force: and the dear girl, as I said, every daygrew lovelier, and more accomplished. Her letters were but so manylinks to the chains in which she had bound me; and though once Ihad resolved to part with her to Lady Davers, and you, Madam, hadan intention to take her, I could not for my life give her up; andthinking more honourably then of the state of a mistress than I havedone since, I could not persuade myself (since I intended to do ashandsomely by her as ever man did to a lady in that situation) butthat I should do better for her than my mother had wished me to do, and so _more_ than answer all her injunctions, as to the providingfor her: and I could not imagine I should meet with a resistance I hadseldom encountered from persons much her superiors as to descent; andwas amazed at it; for it confounded me in all the notions I had ofher sex, which, like a true libertine, I supposed wanted nothing but_importunity_ and _opportunity_, a bold attempter, and a mind notungenerous. Sometimes I admired her for her virtue; at other 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 whatonce passed between us, in words like, these:--'Take the littlewitch from me, Mrs. Jervis. --I can neither bear, nor forbear her--Butstay-you shan't go--Yet be gone!--No, come back again. '--She thought Iwas mad, she says in her 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 asshe!--Well did she describe the passion I struggled with; and no onecan conceive how much my pride made me despise myself at times for thelittle actions my love for her put me upon, and yet to find that loveincreasing every day, as her charms and her resistance increased. --Ihave caught myself in a raging fit, sometimes vowing I would have her, and, at others, jealous that, to secure herself from my attempts, shewould throw herself into the arms of some menial or inferior, whomotherwise she would not have thought of. 

"Sometimes I soothed, sometimes threatened her; but never wassuch courage, when her virtue seemed in danger, mixed with somuch humility, when her fears gave way to her hopes of a justertreatment. --Then I would think it impossible (so slight an opinion hadI of woman's virtue) that such a girl as this, cottage-born, whoowed every thing to my family, and had an absolute dependence upon mypleasure: myself not despicable in person or mind, as I supposed;she unprejudiced in any man's favour, at an age susceptible ofimpressions, and a frame and constitution not ice or snow: 'Surely, 'thought I, 'all this frost must be owing to the want of fire in myattempts to thaw it: I used to dare more, and succeed better. Shallsuch 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 atraitor, that was more faithful to _her_ than to _me_; it had morehonour in it at bottom than I had designed. Awed by her unaffectedinnocence, and a virtue I had never before encountered, so uniform andimmovable, the moment I _saw_ her I was half disarmed; and I courtedher consent to that, which, though I was not likely to obtain, yet itwent against me to think of extorting by violence. Yet marriage wasnever in my thoughts: I scorned so much as to promise it. 

"To what numberless mean things did not this unmanly passion subjectme!--I used to watch for her letters, though mere prittle-prattle andchit-chat, received them with delight, though myself was accused inthem, and stigmatized as I deserved. 

"I would listen meanly at her chamber-door, try to overhear her littleconversation; in vain attempted to suborn Mrs. Jervis to my purposes, inconsistently talking of honour, when no one step I took, or actionI attempted, shewed any thing like it: lost my dignity among myservants; made a party in her favour against me, of every body, but whom my money corrupted, and that hardly sufficient to keep mypartisans steady to my interest; so greatly did the virtue of theservants triumph over the vice of the master, when confirmed by suchan example!

"I have been very tedious, ladies and my Lord Davers, in my narration:but I am come within view of the point for which I now am upon mytrial at your dread tribunal (_bowing to us all_). 

"After several endeavours of a smooth and rough nature, in which mydevil constantly failed me, and her good angel prevailed, I had talkedto Mrs. Jervis to seduce the girl (to whom, in hopes of frighteningher, I had given warning, but which she rejected to take, to my greatdisappointment) to desire to stay; and suspecting Mrs. Jervis playedme booty, and rather confirmed her in her coyness, and her desire ofleaving me, I was mean enough to conceal myself in the closet in Mrs. Jervis's room, in order to hear their private conversation; but reallynot designing to make any other use of my concealment, than to teaseher a little, if she should say any thing I did not like; which wouldgive me a pretence to treat her with greater freedoms than I hadever yet done, and would be an introduction to take off from herunprecedented apprehensiveness another time. 

"But the dear prattler, not knowing I was there, as she undressedherself, begun such a bewitching chit-chat with Mrs. Jervis, who, Ifound, but ill kept my secret, that I never was at such a loss what toresolve upon. One while I wished myself, unknown to them, out of thecloset, into which my inconsiderate passion had meanly led me; anothertime I was incensed at the freedom with which I heard myself treated:but then, rigidly considering that I had no business to hearken totheir private conversation, and it was such as became _them_, whileI ought to have been ashamed to give occasion for it, I excused themboth, and admired still more and more the dear prattler. 

"In this suspense, the undesigned rustling of my night-gown, fromchanging my posture, alarming the watchful Pamela, she in a frightcame towards the closet to see who was there. What could I then do, but bolt out upon the apprehensive charmer; and having so done, andshe running to the bed, screaming to Mrs. Jervis, would not any manhave followed her thither, detected as I was? But yet, I said, if sheforbore her screaming, I would do her no harm; but if not, she shouldtake the consequence. I found, by their exclamations, that this wouldpass with both for an attempt of the worst kind; but really I had nosuch intentions as they feared. When I found myself detected; when thedear frightened girl ran to the bed; when Mrs. Jervis threw herselfabout her; when they would not give over their hideous squallings;when I was charged by Mrs. Jervis with the worst designs; it wasenough to make me go farther than I designed; and could I haveprevailed upon Mrs. Jervis to go up, and quiet the maids, who seemedto be rising, upon the other screaming, I believe, had Pamela kept outof her fit, I should have been a little freer with her, than ever Ihad been; but, as it was, I had no thought but of making as honourablea retreat as I could, and to save myself from being exposed to mywhole family: and I was not guilty of any freedoms, that her modesty, unaffrighted, could reproach herself with having suffered; and thedear creature's fainting fits gave _me_ almost as great apprehensionsas I could give _her_. 

"Thus, ladies--and, my lord--have I tediously, and little enough tomy own reputation, given you my character, and told you more againstmyself than any _one_ person could accuse me of. Whatever redounds tothe credit of my Pamela, redounds in part to my own; and so I have theless regret to accuse myself, since it exalts her. But as to a formedintention to hide myself in the closet, in order to attempt the girlby violence, and in the presence of a good woman, as Mrs. Jervis is, which you impute to me, bad as I was, I was not so vile, so abandonedas that. 

"Love, as I said before, subjects its inconsiderate votaries toinnumerable meannesses, and unlawful passion to many more. I could notlive without this dear girl. I hated the thoughts of matrimonywith any body: and to be brought to the state by my mother'swaiting-maid. --'Forbid it, pride!' thought I; 'forbid it, example!forbid it, all my past sneers, and constant ridicule, both on theestate, and on those who descended to inequalities in it! and, lastly, forbid it my family spirit, so visible in Lady Davers, as well asin myself, to whose insults, and those of all the world, I shall beobnoxious, if I take such a step!'

"All this tends to demonstrate the strength of my passion: I couldnot conquer my love; so I conquered a pride, which every one thoughtunconquerable; and since I could not make an innocent heart vicious, I had the happiness to follow so good an example; and by this means, avicious heart is become virtuous. I have the pleasure of rejoicing inthe change, and hope I shall do so still more and more; for I reallyview with contempt my past follies; and it is now a greater wonder tome 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 yetso 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 andvirtue: and now I will conclude my tedious narration. "

Thus he ended his affecting relation: which in the course of it gaveme a thousand different emotions; and made me often pray for him, thatGod will entirely convert a heart so generous and worthy, as his is onmost occasions. And if I can but find him not deviate, when we goto London, I shall greatly hope that nothing will affect his moralsagain. 

I have just read over again the foregoing account of himself. As nearas I remember (and my memory is the best faculty I have), it is prettyexact; only he was fuller of beautiful similitudes, and spoke in amore flowery style, as I may say. Yet don't you think, Miss (if Ihave not done injustice to his spirit), that the beginning of it, especially, is in the saucy air of a man too much alive to suchnotions? For so the ladies observed in his narration. --Is it verylike the style of a true penitent?--But indeed he went on better, andconcluded best of all. 

But don't you observe what a dear good lady I had? A thousandblessings on her beloved memory! Were I to live to see my children'schildren, they should be all taught to lisp her praises before theycould speak. _My_ gratitude should always be renewed in _their_mouths; and God, and my dear father and mother, my lady, and my masterthat was, my best friend that is, but principally, as most due, theFIRST, who inspired all the rest, should have their morning, theirnoontide, 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 dearbrother-in-law's conduct, which he did not himself vindicate; and Mr. B. Was pleased to say, that my lord was always very candid to him, and kind in his allowances for the sallies of ungovernable youth. Uponwhich 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 I made before I knew your ladyship, were but likethose of a fox, which now and then runs away with a straggling pullet, when nobody sees him, whereas those of my brother were like theinvasions of a lion, breaking into every man's fold, and driving theshepherds, as well as the sheep, before him. "--"Ay, " said my lady, "but I can look round me, and have reason, perhaps, to think theinvading lion has come off, little as he deserved it, better than thecreeping fox, who, with all his cunning, sometimes suffers for hispilfering theft. "

O, my dear, these gentlemen are strange creatures!--What can theythink of themselves? for they say, there is not one virtuous man infive; but I hope, for our sex's sake, as well as for the world'ssake, all is not true that evil fame reports; for you know everyman-trespasser must _find_ or _make_ a woman-trespasser!--And ifso, what a world is this!--And how must the innocent suffer from theguilty! Yet, how much better is it to suffer one's self, than to bethe cause of another's sufferings? I long to hear of you, and mustshorten my future accounts, or I shall do nothing but write, and tire_you_ into the bargain, though I cannot my dear father and mother. Iam, my dear Miss, _always yours_, P. B. 

LETTER XXXI

_From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. _

DEAR MRS. B. , Every post you more and more oblige us to admire and love you: and letme say, I will gladly receive your letters upon your own terms: onlywhen your worthy parents have perused them, see that I have every lineof them again. 

Your account of the arrival of your noble guests, and their behaviourto you, and yours to them; your conversation, and wise determination, on the offered title of Baronet; the just applauses conferred upon youby 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 go on, dear excellent lady, with your charming journals, and let usknow all that passes. 

As to the state of matters with us, I have desired my papa to allowme to decline Mr. Murray's addresses. The good man loved me mostviolently, nay, he could not live without me: life was no life, unlessI favoured him: but yet, after a few more of these flights, he istrying to sit down satisfied without my papa's foolish perverse girl, as Sir Simon calls me, and to transpose his affections to a worthierobject, my sister Nancy; and it would make you smile to see how, alittle while before he _directly_ applied to her, she screwed up hermouth 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 _everysubject_. Once he would make a good master of the buck-hounds; butnow, really, the _more_ one is in his company, the _more polite_ onefinds him. 

Then, on his part, --he happened to see 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 forill nature!) in Miss Nancy, something so awful; that while Miss Pollyengaged the affections at first sight, Miss Nancy struck a man withreverence; insomuch, that the one might he loved as a woman, but theother revered as something more: a goddess, no doubt!

I do but think, that when he comes to be lifted up to her celestialsphere, as her fellow constellation, what a figure Nancy and her_ursus major_ will make together; and how will they glitter and shineto the wonder of all beholders!

Then she must make a brighter appearance by far, and a more pleasingone too: for why? She has three thousand _satellites_, or littlestars, in her train more than poor Polly can pretend to. Won't therebe a fine twinkling and sparkling, think you, when the greater andlesser bear-stars are joined together?

But excuse me, dear Mrs. B. ; this saucy girl has vexed me just now, byher ill-natured tricks; and I am even with her, having thus vented myspite, though she knows nothing of the matter. 

So, fancy you see Polly Darnford abandoned by her own fault; her papaangry at her; her mamma pitying her, and calling her silly girl; Mr. Murray, who is a rough lover, growling over his mistress, as a dogover a bone he fears to lose; Miss Nancy, putting on her prudishpleasantry, snarling out a kind word, and breaking through her sullengloom, for a smile now and then in return; and I laughing at both inmy 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 correspondencehere, and enjoy, unrivalled, the favour of my dear parents, which thisill-tempered girl is always envying me. 

Forgive all this nonsense. I was willing to write something, thoughworse than nothing, to shew how desirous I am to oblige you, had I acapacity or subject, as you have. But nobody can love you better, oradmire you more, of this you may be assured (however unequal in allother respects), than _your_ POLLY DARNFORD. 

I send you up some of your papers for the good couple in Kent. Pray, pay my respects to them: and beg they'll let me have 'em again as soonas they can, by your conveyance. 

Our Stamford friends desire their kindest respects; they mention youwith delight in every letter. 

LETTER XXXII

_The Journal continued. _

THURSDAY, FRIDAY EVENING. 

My dear Miss Darnford, I am returned from a very busy day, having had no less than fourteenof our neighbours, gentlemen and ladies, to dinner: the occasion, principally, to welcome our noble guests into these parts; Mr. B. Having, as I mentioned before, turned the intended visit into anentertainment, after his usual generous manner. --He and Lord Daversare gone part of the way with them home; and Lord Jackey, mounted withhis favourite Colbrand, as an escort to the countess and Lady Davers, who are taking an airing in the chariot. They offered to take thecoach, if I would have gone; but being fatigued, I desired to beexcused. So I retired to my closet; and Miss Damford, who is seldomout of my thoughts, coming into my mind, I had a new recruit ofspirits, which enabled me to resume my pen, and thus I proceed with myjournal. 

Our company was, the Earl and Countess of D. , who are so fashionable amarried couple, that the earl made it his boast, and his countess boreit like one accustomed to such treatment, that he had not been in hislady's company an hour abroad before for seven years. You know hislordship's character: every body does; and there is not a worse, asreport says, in the peerage. 

Sir Thomas Atkyns, a single gentleman, not a little finical andceremonious, and a mighty beau, though of the tawdry sort, andaffecting foreign airs; as if he was afraid it would not be judged byany 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 eachshould take it in turn to say free things of the other; though someof their freedoms are of so cutting a nature, that it looks as if theyintended to divert the company at their own expense. The lady, beingof a noble family, strives to let every one know that she valuesherself not a little upon that advantage; but otherwise has many goodqualities. 

Mr. Brooks and his lady. He is a free joker on serious subjects, buta good-natured man, and says sprightly things with no ill grace: thelady a little reserved, and haughty, though to-day was freer thanusual; as was observed at table by

Lady Towers, who is a maiden lady of family, noted for her wit andrepartee, and who says many good things, with so little doubt andreally 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 richcitizen of that name, settled in these parts, but being covetous andproud, is seldom admitted among the gentry in their visits or partiesof pleasure. 

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 forher sake. Mr. Chapman and his lady, a well-behaved couple, not ashamedto be very tender and observing to each other, but without thatcensurable fondness which sits so ill upon some married folks incompany. 

Then there was the dean, our good minister, whom I name last, becauseI would close with one of the worthiest; and his daughter, who came tosupply her mamma's place, who was indisposed; a well-behaved prudentyoung lady. And here were our fourteen guests. 

The Countess of C. , Lord and Lady Davers, Mr. H. , my dear Mr. B. Andyour humble servant, made up the rest of the company. Thus we had acapacious and brilliant circle; and all the avenues to the house werecrowded with their equipages. 

The subjects of discourse at dinner were various, as you may wellsuppose; and the circle was too large to fall upon any regular or veryremarkable topics. A good deal of sprightly wit, however, flew about, between the Earl of D. , Lady Towers, and Mr. Martin, in which thatlord suffered as he deserved; for he was no match for the lady, especially as the presence of the dean was a very visible restraintupon him, and Mr. Brooks too: so much awe will the character of a goodclergyman always have upon even forward spirits, where he is knownto have had an inviolable regard to it himself. --Besides, the goodgentleman has, naturally, a genteel and inoffensive vein of raillery, and so was too hard for them at their own weapons. But after dinner, and the servants being withdrawn, Mr. Martin singled me out, as heloves to do, for a subject of encomium, and made some high complimentsto my dear Mr. B. Upon his choice; and wished (as he often does), hecould find just such another for himself. 

Lady Towers told him it was a thing as unaccountable as it wasunreasonable, that every rake who loved to destroy virtue, shouldexpect to be rewarded with it: and if his _brother_ B. Had come off sowell, she thought no one else ought to expect it. 

Lady Davers said, it was a very just observation: and she thought ita pity there was not a law, that every man who made a harlot of anhonest woman, should be 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 especially if he had not seduced herunder promise of marriage. 

"Then you'd have a man be obliged to stand to his promise, I suppose, Mr. B. ?" replied Lady Davers. "Yes, madam. "--"But, " said she, "theproof would be difficult perhaps: and the most unguilty heart of oursex might 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 ofPeers, for the purposes I mentioned? I fancy my brother would give itall the assistance he could in the Lower House. "

"Indeed, " said Mr. B. , "if I may be allowed to speak in theplural number, _we_ must not pretend to hold an argument on thissubject. --What say you, Mr. H. ? Which side are you of?"--"Everygentleman, " replied he, "who is not of the ladies' side, is deemeda criminal; and I was always of the side that had the power of thegallows. "

"That shews, " returned Lady Towers, "that Mr. H. Is more afraid ofthe _punishment_, than of deserving it. "--"'Tis well, " said Mr. B. , "that any consideration deters a man of Mr. H. 's time of life. What maybe _fear_ now, may improve to _virtue_ in time. "

"Ay, " said Lady Davers, "Jackey is one of his uncle's _foxes_: he'd beglad to snap up a straggling pullet, if he was not well looked after, perhaps. "--"Pray, my dear, " said Lord Davers, "forbear: you ought notto introduce two different conversations into different companies. "

"Well, but, " said Lady Arthur, "since you seem to have been so hardput to it, as _single_ men, what's to be done with the married man whoruins an innocent body?--What punishment, Lady Towers, shall we findout for such an one; and what reparation to the injured?" Thiswas said with a particular view to the earl, on a late scandalousoccasion; as I afterwards found. 

"As to the punishment of the gentleman, " replied Lady Towers, "wherethe law is not provided for it, it must be left, I believe, to hisconscience. It will then one day be heavy enough. But as to thereparation to the woman, so far as it can be made, it will bedeterminable as the unhappy person _may_ or may _not_ know, that herseducer is a married man: if she knows he is, I think she neitherdeserves redress nor pity, though it elevate not _his_ guilt. But ifthe case be otherwise, and _she_ had no means of informing herselfthat he was married, and he promised to make her his wife, to besure, though _she_ cannot be acquitted, _he_ deserves the severestpunishment that can be inflicted. --What say you, Mrs. B. ?"

"If I must speak, I think that since custom now exacts so littleregard to virtue from men, and so much from women, and since thedesigns of the former upon the latter are so flagrantly avowed andknown, the poor creature, who suffers herself to be seduced, either bya _single_ or _married_ man, _with_ promises, or _without_, has onlyto sequester herself from the world, and devote the rest of her daysto penitence and obscurity. As to the gentleman, " added I, "he must, I doubt, be left to his conscience, as you say, Lady Towers, which hewill 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 compassion, ours execration. Love may insensibly steal upon a soft heart; whenonce admitted, the oaths, vows, and protestations of the favouredobject, who declaims against the deceivers of his sex, confirm hergood opinion of him, till having lull'd asleep her vigilance, in anunguarded hour he takes advantage of her unsuspecting innocence. Isnot such a poor creature to be pitied? And what punishment does notsuch a seducer deserve?"

"You have put, Sir, " said I, "a moving case, and in a generous manner. What, indeed, does not such a deceiver deserve?"--"And the more, "said Mrs. Chapman, "as the most innocent heart is generally the mostcredulous. "--"Very true, " said my countess; "for such an one as woulddo no harm to others, seldom suspects any _from_ others; and herlot is very unequally cast; admired for that very innocence whichtempts 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 wegot? We are upon the subject of virtue and honour. Let us talk ofsomething in which the _gentlemen_ can join with us. This is suchan one, you see, that none but the dean and Mr. Dormer can discourseupon. "--"Let us then, " retorted Mr. Martin, "to be even with _one_lady at least find a subject that will be _new_ to her: and that isCHARITY. "

"Does what I said concern Mr. Martin more than any other gentleman, "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 ladyshould never make a motion to wave such subjects as those of virtueand honour; and less still, in company, where there is so muchoccasion, as she seems to think, for enforcing them. "

"I desire not to wave the subject, I'll assure you, " replied she. "Andif, Sir, you think it may do good, we will continue it for the sakesof all you gentlemen" (looking round her archly), "who are of opinionyou may be benefited by it. "

A health to the king and royal family, brought on public affairs andpolitics; and the ladies withdrawing to coffee and tea, I have no moreto say as to this conversation, having repeated all that I rememberwas said to any purpose. 

SATURDAY MORNING

The countess being a little indisposed. Lady Davers and I took anairing this morning in the chariot, and had a long discourse together. Her ladyship was pleased to express great favour and tendernesstowards me; gave me much good advice, as to the care she would have metake of myself; 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 mebetter and better. 

She was pleased to tell me, how much she approved of the domesticmanagement; and to say, that she never saw such regularity and methodin 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 andadmiration: but kindly would have it that I took too much care uponme. "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, sothat no company find you unprepared, or unfit to receive them, comewhen they will, whether it be to breakfast or dinner. "

I told her ladyship, I owed all this and most of the conduct forwhich she was pleased to praise me, to her dear brother, who, at thebeginning of my happiness, gave me several cautions and instructionsfor my behaviour; which had been the rule of my conduct ever since, and I hoped ever would be:--"To say nothing, " added I, "which yetwould be very unjust, of the assistance I received from worthy Mrs. Jervis, who is an excellent manager. "

_Good Creature_, _Sweet Pamela_, and _Charming Girl_, were hercommon words; and she was pleased to attribute to me a graceful andunaffected ease, and that I have a natural dignity in my person andbehaviour, which at once command love and reverence; so that, my dearMiss Darnford, I am in danger of being proud. For you must believe, that her ladyship's approbation gives me great pleasure; and the more, as I was afraid, before she came, I should not have come on nearso well in her opinion. As the chariot passed along, she took greatnotice of the respects paid me by people of different ranks, and ofthe blessings bestowed upon me, by several, as we proceeded; and said, she should fare well, and be rich in good wishes, for being in mycompany. 

"The good people who know us, _will_ do so, Madam, " said I; "but I hadrather have their silent prayers than their audible ones; and I havecaused some of them to be told so. What I apprehend is, that you willbe more uneasy to-morrow, when at church you'll see a good many peoplein the same way. Indeed my story, and your dear brother's tendernessto me, are so much talked of, that many strangers are brought hitherto 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, twoSundays ago, by some unknown hand; and how uneasy they have made me. I will transcribe them, my dear, and give you the particulars of ourconversation 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 ev'n 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 sorrow bear, As silent as they will be there; Since that lov'd hand this mortal wound does give, So handsomely the thing contrive That she may guiltless of it 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, ifher brother had seen them? I told her, it was he that found them underthe cushion I used to sit upon; but did not shew them to me till Icame home; and that I was so vexed at them, that I could not go tochurch in the afternoon. 

"What should you be vexed at, my dear?" said she: "how could you helpit? 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 afine compliment upon it; that he did not wonder that every body whosaw me 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 dareto set pen to paper to affront any one. But pray, Madam, " added I, "don't own I have told you of them, lest the least shadow of a thoughtshould arise, that I was prompted by some vile secret vanity, to tellyour ladyship of them, when I am sure, they have vexed me more thanenough. For is it not a sad thing, that the church should be profanedby such actions, and such thoughts, as ought not to be brought intoit? Then, Madam, to have any wicked man _dare_ to think of one withimpure notions! It gives me the less opinion of myself, that I shouldbe 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 mylooks, my dress, my appearance, could embolden such an offensiveinsolence. And I have thought upon this occasion better of JuliusCaesar's delicacy than I did, when I read of it; who, upon an attemptmade on his wife, to which, however, it does not appear she gave theleast encouragement, said to those who pleaded for her against thedivorce he was resolved upon, _that the wife of Caesar ought not tobe suspected_. --Indeed, Madam, " continued I, "it would extremely shockme, 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 andtemptations, from a gentleman more worthy to be beloved, both forperson and mind, than any man in England. "

"Your observation, my dear, is truly delicate, and such as becomesyour mind and character. And I really think, if any lady in the worldis secure from vile attempts, it must be you; not only from yourstory, so well known, and the love you bear to your man, and his meritto you, but from the prudence, and natural _dignity_, I will say, ofyour behaviour, which, though easy and cheerful, is what would strikedead the hope of any presumptuous libertine the moment he sees you. "

"How can I enough, " returned I, and kissed her hand, "acknowledge yourladyship's polite goodness in this compliment? But, my lady, you seeby the very instance I have mentioned, that a liberty is taken, whichI cannot think of without pain. "

"I am pleased with your delicacy, my dear, as I said before. You cannever err, whilst thus watchful over your conduct: and I own you havethe more reason for it, as you have married a mere Julius Caesar, anopen-eyed rake" (that was her word), "who would, on the least surmise, though ever so causeless on your part, have all his passions upin arms, in fear of liberties being offered like those he has notscrupled to take. "--"O but, Madam, " said I, "he has given me greatsatisfaction in one point; for you must think I should not love him asI ought, if I had not a concern for his future happiness, as wellas for his present; and that is, he has assured me, that in all theliberties he has taken, he never attempted a married lady, but alwaysabhorred the thought of so great an evil. "--"'Tis pity, " said herladyship, "that a man who could conquer his passions _so far_, couldnot subdue them entirely. This shews it was in his own power to do so;and increases his crime: and what a wretch is he, who scrupling, underpretence of conscience or honour, to attempt ladies _within_ the pale, boggles not to ruin a poor creature _without_; although he knows, hethereby, most probably, for ever deprived her of that protection, bypreventing her marriage, which even among such rakes as himself, isdeemed, he owns, inviolable; and so casts the poor creature headlonginto the jaws of perdition. "

"Ah! Madam, " replied I, "this was the very inference I made upon theoccasion. "--"And what could he say?"--"He said, my inference was just;but called me _pretty preacher_;--and once having cautioned me notto be over-serious to him, so as to cast a gloom, as he said, overour innocent enjoyments, I never dare to urge matters farther, when hecalls me by that name. "

"Well, " said my lady, "thou'rt an admirable girl! God's goodness wasgreat to our family, when it gave thee to it. No wonder, " continuedshe, "as my brother says, every body that sees you, and has heard yourcharacter, loves you. And this is some excuse for the inconsideratefolly even of this unknown transcriber. "--"Ah! Madam, " replied I, "butis it not a sad thing, that people, if they must take upon them tolike one's behaviour in general, should have the _worst_, insteadof the _best_ thoughts upon it? If I were as good as I _ought_ tobe, and as some _think_ me, must they wish to make me bad for thatreason?"

Her ladyship was pleased to kiss me as we sat. "My charming Pamela, my_more than sister, _. "--(Did she say?)--Yes, she did say so! andmade my eyes overflow with joy to hear the sweet epithet. "How yourconversation charms me!--I charge you, when you get to town, letme have your remarks on the diversions you will be carried to bymy brother. Now I know what to expect from _you_, and you know howacceptable every thing from you will be _to me_, I promise greatpleasure, as well to myself as to my worthy friends, particularly toLady Betty, in your unrestrained free correspondence. --Indeed, Pamela, I must bring you acquainted with Lady Betty: she is one of theworthies of our sex, and has a fine understanding. --I'm sure you'lllike her. --But (for the world say it not to my brother, nor let LadyBetty know I tell you so, if ever you should be acquainted) I hadcarried the matter so far by my officious zeal to have my brothermarried to so fine a lady, not doubting his joyful approbation, thatit was no small disappointment to _her_, when he married you: and thisis the best excuse I can make for my furious behaviour to you at theHall. For though I am naturally very hasty and passionate, yet thenI was almost mad. --Indeed my disappointment had given me so muchindignation both against you and him, that it is well I did not dosome violent thing by you. I believe you did feel the weight of myhand: but what was that? 'Twas well I did not _kill you dead_. "--Thesewere her ladyship's words--"For how could I think the wild libertinecapable of being engaged by such noble motives, or thee what thouart!--So this will account to thee a little for my violence then. "

"Your ladyship, " said I, "all these things considered, had but toomuch reason to be angry at your dear brother's proceedings, so well asyou always loved him, so high a concern as you always had to promotehis honour and interest, and so far as you had gone with Lady Betty. "

"I tell thee, Pamela, that the old story of Eleanor and Rosamond runin my head all the way of my journey, and I almost wished for a potionto force down thy throat: when I found thy lewd paramour absent, (forlittle did I think thou wast married to him, though I expected thouwouldst try to persuade me to believe it) fearing that his intriguewith thee would effectually frustrate my hopes as to Lady Betty andhim: 'Now, ' thought I, 'all happens as I wish!--Now will I confrontthis brazen girl!--Now will I try her innocence, as I please, byoffering to take her away with me; if she refuses, take that refusalfor a demonstration of her guilt; and then, ' thought I, 'I will makethe creature provoke me, in the presence of my nephew and my woman, '(and I hoped to have got that woman Jewkes to testify for me too), andI cannot tell what I might have done, if thou hadst not escaped out ofthe window, especially after telling me thou wast as much married asI was, and hadst shewn me his tender letter to thee, which had a quitedifferent effect upon me than you expected. But if I had committedany act of violence, what remorse should I have had on reflection, andknowing what an excellence I had injured! Thank God thou didst escapeme!" And then her ladyship folded her arms about me, and kissed me. 

This was a sad story, you'll say, my dear: and I wonder what herladyship's passion would have made her do! Surely she would not have_killed me dead_! Surely she would not!--Let it not, however, MissDarnford--nor you, my dear parents--when you see it--go out ofyour own hands, nor be read, for my Lady Davers's sake, to any bodyelse--No, not to your own mamma. It made me tremble a little, even atthis distance, to think what a sad thing passion is, when way isgiven to its ungovernable tumults, and how it deforms and debases thenoblest minds. 

We returned from this agreeable airing just in time to dress beforedinner, and then my lady and I went together into the countess'sapartment, where I received abundance of compliments from both. Asthis brief conversation will give you some notion of that managementand economy for which they heaped upon me their kind praises, I willrecite to you what passed in it, and hope you will not think me toovain; and the less, because what I underwent formerly from my lady'sindignation, half entitles me to be proud of her present kindness andfavour. 

Lady Davers said, "Your ladyship must excuse us, that we have lost somuch of your company; but here, this sweet girl has so entertained me, that I could have staid out with her all day; and several times did Ibid the coachman prolong his circuit. "--"My good Lady Davers, Madam, "said I, "has given me inexpressible pleasure, and has been allcondescension and favour, and made me as proud as proud canbe. "--"You, my dear Mrs. B. , " said she, "may have given great pleasureto Lady Davers, for it cannot be otherwise--But I have no great notionof her ladyship's condescension, as you call it--(pardon me, Madam, "said she to her, smiling) "when she cannot raise her style above theword _girl_, coming off from a tour you have made so delightful toher. "--"I protest to you, my Lady C. , " replied her ladyship, withgreat goodness, "that word, which once I used through pride, as you'llcall it, I now use for a very different reason. I begin to doubt, whether to call her _sister_, is not more honour to myself than toher; and to this hour am not quite convinc'd. When I am, I will callher so with pleasure. " I was quite overcome with this fine compliment, but could not answer a word: and the countess said, "I could havespared you longer, had not the time of day compelled your return; forI have been very agreeably entertained, as well as you, although butwith the talk of your woman and mine. For here they have been givingme such an account of Mrs. B. 's economy, and family management, ashas highly delighted me. I never knew the like; and in so young a ladytoo. --We shall have strange reformations to make in our families, LadyDavers, when we go home, were we to follow so good an example. --Why, my dear Mrs. B. , " continued her ladyship, "you out-do all yourneighbours. And indeed I am glad I live so far from you:--for were Ito try to imitate you, it would still be _but_ imitation, and you'dhave the honour of it. "--"Yet you hear, and you see by yesterday'sconversation, " said Lady Davers, "how much her best neighbours, of both sexes, admire her: they all yield to her the palm, unenvying. "--"Then, my good ladies, " said I, "it is a sign I have mostexcellent neighbours, full of generosity, and willing to encourage ayoung person in doing right things: so it makes, considering what Iwas, more for their honour than my own. For what censures should notsuch a one as I deserve, who have not been educated to fill up my timelike ladies of condition, were I not to employ myself as I do? I, who have so little other merit, and who brought no fortune atall. "--"Come, come, Pamela, none of your self-denying ordinances, "that was Lady Davers's word; "you must know something of your ownexcellence: if you do not, I'll tell it you, because there is no fearyou will be proud or vain upon it. I don't see, then, that thereis the lady in yours, or any neighbourhood, that behaves with moredecorum, or better keeps up the part of a lady, than you do. How youmanage it, I can't tell; but you do as much by a look, and a pleasantone too, that's the rarity! as I do by high words, and passionateexclamations: I have often nothing but blunder upon blunder, as if thewretches were in a confederacy to try my patience. "--"Perhaps, "said I, "the awe they have of your ladyship, because of your highqualities, makes them commit blunders; for I myself was always moreafraid of appearing before your ladyship, when you have visitedyour honoured mother, than of any body else, and have been the moresensibly awkward through that very awful respect. "--"Psha, psha, Pamela, that is not it: 'tis all in yourself. I used to think mymamma, and my brother too, had as awkward servants as ever I saw anywhere--except Mrs. Jervis--Well enough for a bachelor, indeed!--But, here!--thou hast not parted with one servant--Hast thou?"--"No, Madam. "--"How!" said the countess; "what excellence is here!--All ofthem, pardon me, Mrs. B. , your fellow-servants, as one may say, andall of them so respectful, so watchful of your eye; and you, at thesame time, so gentle to them, so easy, so cheerful. "

Don't you think me, my dear, insufferably vain? But 'tis what theywere pleased to say. 'Twas their goodness to me, and shewed how muchthey can excel in generous politeness. So I will proceed. "Whythis, " continued the countess, "must be _born_ dignity--_born_discretion--Education cannot give it:--if it could, why should not_we_ have it?"

The ladies said many more kind things of me then; and after dinnerthey mentioned all over again, with additions, before my best friend, who was kindly delighted with the encomiums given me by two ladies ofsuch distinguishing judgment in all other cases. They told him, howmuch they admired my family management: then they would have it thatmy genius was universal, for the employments and accomplishments ofmy sex, whether they considered it as employed in penmanship, inneedlework, in paying or receiving visits, in music, and I can't tellhow many other qualifications, which they were pleased to attributeto me, over and above the family management: saying, that I hadan understanding which comprehended every thing, and an eye thatpenetrated into the very bottom of matters in a moment, and neverwas at a loss for the _should be_, the _why_ or _wherefore_, and the_how_--these were their comprehensive words; that I did everything with celerity, clearing all as I went, and left nothing, theyobserved, to come over again, that could be dispatched at once: bywhich means, they said, every hand was clear to undertake a newwork, as well as my own head to direct it; and there was no hurry norconfusion: but every coming hour was fresh and ready, and unincumbered(so they said), for its new employment; and to this they attributedthat ease and pleasure with which every thing was performed, and thatI could _do_ and _cause_ to be done, so much business without hurryeither to myself or servants. 

Judge how pleasing this was to my best beloved, who found, in theirkind approbation, such a justification of his own conduct as could notfail of being pleasing to him, especially as Lady Davers was one ofthe kind praisers. Lord Davers was so highly delighted, that he roseonce, begging his brother's excuse, to salute me, and stood overmy chair, with a pleasure in his looks that cannot be expressed, now-and-then lifting up his hands, and his good-natured eye glisteningwith joy, which a pier-glass gave me the opportunity of seeing, assometimes I stole a bashful glance towards it, not knowing how orwhich way to look. Even Mr. H. Seemed to be touched very sensibly; andrecollecting his behaviour to me at the Hall, he once cried out, "What a sad whelp was _I_, to behave as I formerly did, to so muchexcellence!--Not, Mr. B. , that I was any thing uncivil neither;--butin unworthy sneers, and nonsense. --You know me well enough. --Youcalled me, _tinsell'd boy_, though, Madam, don't you remember that?and said, _twenty or thirty years hence, when I was at age, you'd giveme an answer. _ Egad! I shall never forget your looks, nor your wordsneither!--they were severe speeches, were they not, Sir?"--"O you see, Mr. H. , " replied my dear Mr. B. , "Pamela is not quite perfect. We mustnot provoke her; for she'll call us both so, perhaps; for I wear alaced coat, sometimes, as well as you. "

"Nay, I can't be angry, " said he. "I deserved it richly, that Idid, had it been worse. "--"Thy silly tongue, " said my lady, "runson without fear or wit. What's past is past. "--"Why, Madam, I wasplaguily wrong; and I said nothing of any body but _myself_:--andhave been ready to hang myself since, as often as I have thought of mynonsense. "--"My nephew, " said my lord, "must bring in hanging, orthe gallows in every speech he makes, or it will not be he. " Mr. B. , smiling, said, with severity enough in his meaning, as I saw by theturn of his countenance, "Mr. H. Knows that his birth and familyentitle him more to the _block_, than the rope, or he would not makeso free with the latter. "--"Good! very good, by Jupiter!" said Mr. H. Laughing. The countess smiled. Lady Davers shook her head at herbrother, and said to her nephew, "Thou'rt a good-natured foolishfellow, that thou art. "--"For what, Madam? Why the word _foolish_, aunt? What have I said now?"

"Nothing to any purpose, indeed, " said she; "when thou dost, I'llwrite it down. "--"Then, Madam, " said he, "have your pen and ink alwaysabout you, when I am present; and put that down to begin with!" Thismade every one laugh. "What a happy thing is it, " thought I, "thatgood nature generally accompanies this character; else, how would somepeople be supportable?"

But here I'll break off. 'Tis time, you'll say. But you know to whomI write, as well as to yourself, and they'll be pleased with allmy silly scribble. So excuse one part for that, and another forfriendship's sake, and then I shall be wholly excusable to you. 

Now the trifler again resumes her pen. I am in some pain, Miss, forto-morrow, because of the rules we observe of late in our family onSundays, and of going through a crowd to church; which will afford newscenes to our noble visitors, either for censure or otherwise: but Iwill sooner be censured for doing what I think my duty, than for thewant of it; and so will omit nothing that we have been accustomed todo. 

I hope I shall not be thought ridiculous, or as one who aims at worksof supererogation, for what I think is very short of my duty. Someorder, surely, becomes the heads of families; and besides, it wouldbe discrediting one's own practice, if one did not appear at one timewhat one does at another. For that which is a reason for discontinuinga practice for some company, would seem to be a reason for laying itaside for ever, especially in a family visiting and visited as ours. And I remember well a hint given me by my dearest friend once onanother subject, that it is in every one's power to prescribe rules tohimself, after a while, and persons to see what is one's way, and thatone is not to be put out of it. But my only doubt is, that to ladies, who have not been accustomed perhaps to the _necessary_ strictness, Ishould 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 dispensedwith; yet, when a person, who uses to be remiss, sees so hard a taskbefore them, and so many great points to get over, all to be no morethan tolerably regular, it is rather apt to frighten and discourage, than to allure; and one must proceed, as I have read soldiers do, ina difficult siege, inch by inch, and be more studious to entrenchand fortify themselves, as they go on gaining upon the enemy, thanby rushing all at once upon an attack of the place, be repulsed, andperhaps obliged with great loss to abandon a hopeful enterprise. Andpermit me to add, that young as I am, I have often observed, thatover-great strictnesses all at once enjoined and insisted upon, arenot fit for a beginning reformation, but for stronger Christians only;and therefore generally do more harm than good. 

But shall I not be too grave, my dear friend?--Excuse me; for this isSaturday night: and as it was a very good method which the ingeniousauthors of the Spectator took, generally to treat their more serioussubjects on this day; so I think one should, when one can, consider itas the preparative eve to a still better. 

SUNDAY. 

Now, my dear, by what I have already written, it is become in a mannernecessary to acquaint you briefly with the method my dear Mr. B. Notonly permits, but encourages me to take, in the family he leaves to mycare, as to the Sunday _duty_. 

The worthy dean, at my request, and my beloved's permission, recommended to me, as a sort of family chaplain, for Sundays, a younggentleman of great sobriety and piety, and sound principles, whohaving but lately taken orders, has at present no other provision. And this gentleman comes, and reads prayers to us about seven in themorning, in the lesser hall, as we call it, a retired apartment, nextthe little garden; for we have no chapel with us here, as in yourneighbourhood; and this generally, with some suitable exhortation, or meditation out of some good book, which he is so kind as to let mechoose now-and-then, when I please, takes up little more than half anhour. We have a great number of servants of both sexes: and myself, Mrs. Jervis, and Polly Barlow, are generally in a little closet, which, when we open the door, is but just a separation from thehall. --Mr. Adams (for that is our young clergyman's name) has a deskat which sometimes Mr. Jonathan makes up his running accounts to Mr. Longman, who is very scrupulous of admitting any body to the use ofhis office, because of the writing in his custody, and the order hevalues himself upon having every thing in. About seven in the eveninghe comes 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 soshort a time, I am seldom missed. 

To the young gentleman I shall present, every quarter, five guineas, and Mr. B. Presses him to accept of a place at his table at hispleasure: but, as we have generally much company, his modesty makeshim decline it, especially at those times. --Mr. Longman joins with usvery often in our Sunday office, and Mr. Colbrand seldom misses: andthey tell Mrs. Jervis that they cannot express the pleasure they haveto meet me there; and the edification they receive. 

My best beloved dispenses as much as he can with the servants, for theevening part, if he has company; or will be attended only by John orAbraham, perhaps by turns; and sometimes looks upon his watch, andsays, "'Tis near seven;" and if he says so, they take it for a hintthat they may be dispensed with for half an hour; and this countenancewhich he gives me, has contributed not a little to make the mattereasy and delightful to me, and to every one. --When I part from them, on the breaking up of our assembly, they generally make a little rowon each side of the hall-door; and when I have made my compliments, and paid my thanks to Mr. Adams, they whisper, as I go out, "God blessyou, Madam!" and bow and curtsey with such pleasure in their honestcountenances as greatly delights me: and I say, "So my good friends--Iam glad to see you--Not one absent!" or but one--(as it fallsout)--"This is very obliging, " I cry: and thus I shew them, that Itake notice, if any body be not there. And back again I go to pay myduty to my earthly benefactor: and he is pleased to say sometimes, that I come to him with such a radiance in my countenance, as giveshim double pleasure to behold me; and often tells me, that but forappearing too fond before company, he could meet me as I enter, withembraces as pure as my own heart. 

I hope in time, I shall prevail upon the dear man to give me hiscompany. --But, thank God, I am enabled to go thus far already!--I willleave the rest to his providence. For I have a point very delicate totouch upon in this particular; and I must take care not to lose theground I have gained, by too precipitately pushing at too much atonce. This is my comfort, that next to being uniform _himself_, isthat permission and encouragement he gives _me_ to be so, and hispleasure in seeing me so delighted--and besides, he always gives mehis company to church. O how happy should I think myself, if he wouldbe pleased to accompany me to the divine office, which yet he has notdone, though I have urged him as much as I durst. --Mrs. Jervis askedme on Saturday evening, if I would be concerned to see a largercongregation in the lesser hall next morning than usual? I answered, "No, by no means. " She said, Mrs. Worden, and Mrs. Lesley (the twoladies' women), and Mr. Sidney, my Lord Davers's gentleman, and Mr. H. 's servant, and the coachmen and footmen belonging to our noblevisitors, who are, she says, all great admirers of our familymanagement and good order, having been told our method, begged to joinin it. I knew I should be a little dashed at so large a company; butthe men being orderly for lords' servants, and Mrs. Jervis assuring methat they were very earnest in their request, I consented to it. 

When, at the usual time, (with my Polly) I went down, I found Mr. Adams here (to whom I made my first compliments), and every one of ourown people waiting for me, Mr. Colbrand excepted (whom Mr. H. Had keptup late the night before), together with Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley, and Mr. Sidney, with the servants of our guests, who, as alsoworthy Mr. Longman, and Mrs. Jervis, and Mr. Jonathan, paid me theirrespects: and I said, "This is early rising, Mrs. Lesley and Mrs. Worden; you are very kind to countenance us with your companies inthis our family order. Mr. Sidney, I am glad to see you. --How do youdo, Mr. Longman?" and looked round with complacency on the servants ofour noble visitors. And then I led Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley tomy little retiring place, and Mrs. Jervis and my Polly followed; andthrowing the door open, Mr. Adams began some select prayers; and as hereads with great emphasis and propriety, as if his heart was inwhat he read, all the good folks were exceedingly attentive. --Afterprayers, Mr. Adams reads a meditation, from a collection made forprivate use, which I shall more particularly mention by-and-by; andending with the usual benediction, I thanked the worthy gentleman, and gently chid him in Mr. B. 's name, for his modesty in decliningour table; and thanking Mr. Longman, Mrs. Worden, and Mrs. Lesley, received their kind wishes, and hastened, blushing through theirpraises, to my chamber, where, being alone, I pursued the subject foran hour, till breakfast was ready, when I attended the ladies, and mybest beloved, who had told them of the verses placed under my cushionat church. --We set out, my Lord and Lady Davers, and myself, andMr. H. In our coach, and Mr. B. And the countess in the chariot; bothladies and the gentlemen splendidly dressed; but I avoided a glitteras much as I could, that I might not seem to vie with the twopeeresses. --Mr. B. Said, "Why are you not full-dressed, my dear?" Isaid, I hoped he would not be displeased; if he was, I would do ashe commanded. He kindly answered, "As you like best, my love. You arecharming in every dress. "

The chariot first drawing up to the church door, Mr. B. Led thecountess 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 paidus their silent respects; but the thoughts of the wicked verses, or rather, as Lady Davers will have me say, wicked action of thetranscriber of them, made me keep behind the pew; but my lady satdown by me, and whisperingly talked between whiles, to me, with greattenderness and freedom in her aspect; which I could not but takekindly, because I knew she intended by it, to shew every one she waspleased with me. 

Afterwards she was pleased to add, taking my hand, and Mr. B. Andthe countess heard her (for she raised her voice to a more audiblewhisper), "I'm proud to be in thy company, and in this solemn place, I take thy hand, and acknowledge with pride, my _sister_. " I lookeddown; and indeed, at church, I can hardly at any time look up; for whocan bear to be gazed at so?--and softly said, "Oh! my good lady! howmuch you honour me; the place, and these surrounding eyes, can onlyhinder me from acknowledging as I ought. "

My best friend, with pleasure in his eyes, said, pressing his handupon both ours, as my lady had mine in hers--"You are two belovedcreatures: both excellent in your way. God bless you both. "--"And youtoo, my dear brother, " said my lady. 

The countess whispered, "You should spare a body a little! You giveone, ladies, and Mr. B. , too much pleasure all at once. Such company, and such behaviour adds still more charms to devotion; and were I tobe here a twelvemonth, I would never miss once accompanying you tothis good place. "

Mr. H. Thought he must say something, and addressing himself to hisnoble uncle, who could not keep his good-natured eye off me--"I'll be_hang'd_, my lord, if I know how to behave myself! Why this outdoesthe chapel!--I'm glad I put on my new suit!" And then he looked uponhimself, as if he would support, as well as he could, his part of thegeneral admiration. 

But think you not, my dear Miss Darnford, and my dearest father andmother, that I am now in the height of my happiness in this life, thusfavoured by Lady Davers? The dean preached an excellent sermon; but Ineed not have said that; only to have mentioned, that _he_ preached, was saying enough. 

My lord led me out when divine service was over; and being a littletender in his feet, from a gouty notice, walked very slowly. LadyTowers and Mrs. Brooks joined us in the porch, and made us theircompliments, as did Mr. Martin. "Will you favour us with your companyhome, my old acquaintance?" said Mr. B. To him. --"I can't, having agentleman, my relation, to dine with me; but if it will be agreeablein the evening, I will bring him with me 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. 

Mr. Martin whispered--"It is more, however, to admire your lady, I cantell you that, than your wine. -Get into your coaches, ladies, " saidhe, with his usual freedom; "our maiden and widow ladies have a finetime of it, wherever you come: by my faith they must every one ofthem quit this neighbourhood, if you were to stay in it: but all theirhopes are, that while you are in London, they'll have the game intheir own hands. "--"_Sister_, " said Lady Davers, most kindly to me, inpresence of many, who (in a respectful manner) gathered near us, "Mr. Martin is the same gentleman he used to be, I see. "

"Mr. Martin, Madam, " said I, smiling, "has but one fault: he is tooapt to praise whom he favours, at the expense of his absent friends. "

"I am always proud of your reproofs, Mrs. B. , " replied he. -"Ay, " saidLady Towers, "that I believe. --And, therefore, I wish, for all oursakes, you'd take him oftener to task, Mrs. B. "

Lady Towers, Lady Arthur, Mrs. Brooks, and Mr. Martin, all claimedvisits from us; and Mr. B. Making excuses, that he must husband histime, being obliged to go to town soon, proposed to breakfast withLady Towers the next morning, dine with Mrs. Arthur, and sup withMrs. Brooks; and as there cannot be a more social and agreeableneighbourhood any where, his proposal, after some difficulty, wasaccepted; and our usual visiting neighbours were all to have noticeaccordingly, at each of the places. 

I saw Sir Thomas Atkyns coming towards us, and fearing to be stifledwith compliments, I said--"Your servant, ladies and gentlemen;" andgiving my hand to Lord Davers, stept into the chariot, instead of thecoach; for people that would avoid bustle, sometimes make it. Findingmy mistake, I would have come out, but my lord said, "Indeed youshan't: for I'll step in, and have you all to myself. "

Lady Davers smiled--"Now, " said she (while the coach drew up), "is myLord Davers pleased;--but I see, sister, you were tired with part ofyour company in the coach. "--"'Tis well contrived, my dear, " said Mr. B. , "as long as you have not deprived me of this honour;" taking thecountess's hand, and leading her into the coach. 

Will you excuse all this impertinence, my dear?--I know my father andmother will be pleased with it; and you will therefore bear with me;for their kind hearts will be delighted to hear every minute thingin relation to Lady Davers and myself. --When Mr. Martin came inthe evening, with his friend (who is Sir William G. , a polite younggentleman of Lincolnshire), he told us of the praises lavished awayupon me by several genteel strangers; one saying to his friend, he hadtravelled twenty miles to see me. --My Lady Davers was praised too forher goodness to me, and the gracefulness of her person; the countessfor the noble serenity of her aspect, and that charming ease andfreedom, which distinguished her birth and quality. My dear Mr. B. , hesaid, was greatly admired too: but he would not make _him_ proud;for he had superiorities enough already, that was his word, over hisneighbours: "But I can tell you, " said he, "that for most of yourpraises you are obliged to your lady, and for having rewarded herexcellence as you have done: for one gentleman, " added he, "said, heknew no one but _you_ could deserve her; and he believed _you_ did, from that tenderness in your behaviour to her, and from that grandeurof air, and majesty of person, that seemed to shew you formed for herprotector, as well as rewarder. --Get you gone to London, 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 withthe order I observed for the day, and the devout behaviour of theservants. And about seven, I withdrawing as silently and as unobservedas I could, was surprised, as I was going through the great hall, tobe joined by both. 

"I shall come at all your secrets, Pamela, " said my lady, "and beable, in time, to cut you out in your own way. I know whither you aregoing. "

"My good ladies, " said I, "pardon me for leaving you. I will attendyou in half an hour. "

"No, my dear, " said Lady Davers, "the countess and I have resolvedto attend you for that half hour, and we will return to companytogether. "

"Is it not descending too much, my ladies, as to the company?"--"If itis for us, it is for you, " said the countess; "so we will either actup to you, or make you come down to us; and we will judge of all yourproceedings. "

Every one, but Abraham (who attended the gentlemen), and all theirladyships' servants, and their two women, were there; which pleasedme, however, because it shewed, that even the strangers, by this theirsecond voluntary attendance, had no ill opinion of the service. But they were all startled, ours and theirs, to see the ladiesaccompanying me. 

I stept up to Mr. Adams. --"I was in hopes. Sir, " said I, "we shouldhave been favoured with your company at our table. " He bowed. --"Well, Sir, " said I, "these ladies come to be obliged to you for your goodoffices; and you'll have no better way of letting them return theirobligations, than to sup, though you would not dine with them. "--"Mr. Longman, " said my lady, "how do you do?--We are come to be witnessesof the 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 Ido not go, we have the evening service read to us, as it is atchurch; which Mr. Adams performed now, with his usual distinctness andfervour. 

When all was concluded, I said, "Now, my dearest ladies, excuse me forthe sake of the delight I take in seeing all my good folks about me inthis decent and obliging manner. --Indeed, I have no ostentation in it, if I know my own heart. "

The countess and Lady Davers, delighted to see such good behaviour inevery one, sat a moment or two looking upon one another in silence;and then my Lady Davers took my hand: "Beloved, deservedly belovedof the kindest of husbands, what a blessing art thou to thisfamily!"--"And to every family, " said the countess, "who have thehappiness to know, and the grace to follow, her example!"--"Butwhere, " said Lady Davers, "collectedst thou all this good sense, andfine spirit in thy devotion?"--"The Bible, " said I, "is the foundationof all. "--Lady Davers then turning herself to Mrs. Jervis--"How doyou, good woman?" said she. "Why you are now made ample amends for thelove you bore to this dear creature formerly. "

"You have an angel, and not a woman, for your lady, my good Mrs. Jervis, " said the countess. 

Mrs. Jervis, folding her uplifted hands together--"O my good lady, youknow not our happiness; no, not one half of it. We were before blessedwith plenty, and a bountiful indulgence, by our good master; but ourplenty brought on wantonness and wranglings: but now we have peace aswell as plenty; and peace of mind, my dear lady, in doing all in ourrespective powers, to shew ourselves thankful creatures to God, and tothe 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, forwhat you so well merit from us. "

"Mr. Longman, " said my lady, assuming a sprightly air, although hereye twinkled, to keep within its lids the precious water, that sprangfrom a noble and well-affected heart, "I am glad to see you here, attending your pious young lady. --Well might you love her, honestman!--I did not know there was so excellent a creature in any rank. "

"Madam, " said the other worthy heart, unable to speak but inbroken sentences, "you don't know--indeed you don't, what a--whata--hap--happy--family we are!--Truly, we are like unto Alexander'ssoldiers, every one fit to be a general; so well do we all know ourduties, and _practise_ them too, let me say. --Nay, and please yourladyship, we all of us long till morning comes, thus to attend mylady; and after that is past, we long for evening, for the samepurpose: 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 joyful on these occasions; yetwe are in transports to see our master's noble sister thus favouringus--with your ladyship too, " (to the countess)--"and approving ouryoung 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!"

As I slid by, following their ladyships--"How do you, Mr. Colbrand?"said I softly: "I feared you were not well in the morning. " Hebowed--"Pardon me, Madam--I was leetel indispose, dat ish true!"

Now, my dear friend, will you forgive me all this self-praise, as itmay seem?--Yet when you know I give it you, and my dear parents, as somany 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 herpride of quality and her passion have subsided, and her native goodsense and excellence taken place, I flatter myself, I may be therather excused; and especially, as I hope to have your company andcountenance one day, in this my delightful Sunday employment. 

I should have added, for I think a good clergyman cannot be too muchrespected, that I repeated my request to Mr. Adams, to oblige us withhis company at supper; but he so very earnestly begged to be excused, and with so much concern of countenance, that I thought it would bewrong to insist upon it; though I was sorry for it, sure as I am thatmodesty is always a sign of merit. 

We returned to the gentlemen when supper was ready, as cheerful andeasy, Lady Davers observed, as if we had not been present at so solemna service. "And this, " said she, after they were gone, "makes religionso pleasant and delightful a thing, that I profess I shall have a muchhigher opinion of those who make it a regular and constant part oftheir employment, than ever I had. "

"Then, " said she, "I was once, I remember, when a girl, at thehouse of a very devout man, for a week, with his granddaughter, myschool-fellow; and there were such preachments _against_ vanities, and _for_ self-denials, that were we to have followed the good man'sprecepts, (though indeed not his practice, for well did he lovehis belly), half God Almighty's creatures and works would have beenuseless, and industry would have been banished the earth. 

"Then, " added her ladyship, "have I heard the good man confess himselfguilty of such sins, as, if true (and by his hiding his face with hisbroad-brimmed hat, it looked a little bad against him), he ought tohave been hanged on a gallows fifty feet high. "

These reflections, as I said, fell from my lady, after the gentlemenwere gone, when she recounted to her brother, the entertainment, asshe was pleased to call it, I had given her. On which she made highencomiums, as did the countess; and they praised also the naturaldignity which they imputed to me, saying, I had taught them a way theynever could have found out, to descend to the company of servants, and yet to secure, and even augment, the respect and veneration ofinferiors at the same time. "And, Pamela, " said my lady, "you arecertainly very right to pay so much regard to the young clergyman; forthat makes all he reads, and all he says, of greater efficacy with theauditors, facilitates the work you have in view to bring about, and inyour own absence (for your monarch may not always dispense with you, perhaps) strengthens his influence, and encourages him, beside. "

MONDAY. 

I am to thank you, my dear Miss Damford, for your kind letter, approving of my scribble. When you come to my Saturday's and Sunday'saccounts, I shall try your patience. But no more of that; for as youcan read them, or let them alone, I am the less concerned, especiallyas they will be more indulgently received somewhere else, than theymay merit; so that my labour will not be wholly lost. 

I congratulate you with all my heart on your dismissing Mr. Murray; Icould not help shewing your letter to Mr. B. And what do you think thefree gentleman said upon it? I am half afraid to tell you: but do, now you are so happily disengaged, get leave to come, and let us twocontrive to be even with him for it. You are the only lady in theworld that I would join with against him. 

He said, that your characters of Mr. Murray and Miss Nancy, which hecalled severe (but I won't call them so, without your leave), lookeda little like petty spite, and as if you were sorry the gentleman tookyou at your word. That was what he said--Pray let us punish him forit. Yet, he called you charming lady, and said much in your praise, and joined with me, that Mr. Murray, who was so easy to part with you, could not possibly deserve you. 

"But, Pamela, " said he, "I know the sex well enough. Miss Pollymay not love Mr. Murray; yet, to see her sister addressed andcomplimented, and preferred to herself, by one whom she so latelythought she could choose or refuse, is a mortifying thing. --And youngladies cannot bear to sit by neglected, while two lovers are playingpug's tricks with each other. 

"Then, " said he, "all the preparations to matrimony, the clothes tobe bought, the visits to be paid and received, the compliments offriends, the busy novelty of the thing, the day to be fixed, andall the little foolish humours and nonsense attending a concludedcourtship, when _one sister_ is to engross all the attention andregard, the new equipages, and so forth; these are all subjects ofmortification to the _other_, though she has no great value for theman perhaps. "

"Well, but, Sir, " said I, "a lady of Miss Darnford's good sense, and good taste, is not to be affected by these parades, and has wellconsidered the matter, no doubt; and I dare say, rejoices, rather thanrepines, at missing the gentleman. "

I hope you will leave the happy pair (for they are so, if they thinkthemselves so) together, and Sir Simon to rejoice in his accomplishedson-in-law elect, and give us your company to London. For who wouldstay 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 havesomething to tell you of a conversation, the result of which has doneme great honour, and given inexpressible delight; of which in itsplace. 

We pursued Mr. B. 's proposal, returning several visits in one day;for we have so polite and agreeable a neighbourhood, that all seemdesirous to accommodate each other. 

We came not home till ten in the evening, and then found a letter fromSir Jacob Swynford, uncle by the half blood to Mr. B. , acquaintinghim, that hearing his niece, Lady Davers, was with him, he would behere in a day or two (being then upon his journey) to pay a visit toboth at the same time. This gentleman is very particularly odd andhumoursome: and his eldest son being next heir to the maternal estate, if Mr. B. Should have no children, was exceedingly dissatisfiedwith his debasing himself in marrying me; and would have been betterpleased 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 veryrich, but little agreeable to the generous tempers of his nephew andniece; yet when they meet, which is not above once in four or fiveyears, they are very civil and obliging to him. Lady Davers wonderedwhat could bring him hither now: for he lives in Herefordshire, andseldom stirs ten miles from home. Mr. B. Said, he was sure it was notto compliment him and me on our nuptials. "No, rather, " said mylady, "to satisfy himself if you are in a way to cut out his owncubs. "--"Thank God, we are, " said he. "Whenever I was strongest setagainst matrimony, the only reason I had to weigh against my disliketo it was, that I was unwilling to leave so large a part of my estateto that family. My dear, " said he to me, "don't be uneasy; but you'llsee a relation of mine much more disagreeable than you can imagine;but no doubt you have heard his character. "

"Ah, Pamela, " said Lady Davers, "we are a family that value ourselvesupon our ancestry; but, upon my word, Sir Jacob, and all his line, have nothing else to boast of. And I have been often ashamed of myrelation to them. "--"No family, I believe, my lady, has every bodyexcellent in it, " replied I: "but I doubt I shall stand but poorlywith Sir Jacob. "

"He won't dare to affront you, my dear, " said Mr. B. , "although he'llsay 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 againfor some years to come; so we'll bear with him. "

I am now, Miss, coming to the conversation I hinted at. 

TUESDAY. 

On Tuesday, Mr. Williams came to pay his respects to his kind patron. I had been to visit a widow gentlewoman, and, on my return, wentdirectly to my closet, so knew not of his being here till I came todinner; for Mr. B. And he were near two hours in discourse in thelibrary. 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; "Iam glad to see you. "

He rejoiced, he said, to see me look so well; and had longed for anopportunity 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 have prevailed upon my old acquaintance to reside with us, while he stays in these parts. Do you, my dear, see that every thingis made agreeable to him. "--"To be sure, Sir, I will. "

Mr. Adams being in the house, Mr. B. Sent to desire he would dine withus: if it were but in respect to a gentleman of the same cloth, whogave 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 toa living that is offered him by the Earl of ----, who is greatly takenwith his preaching and conversation. " "And to quit yours, I presume, Sir, " said Lord Davers. "No, the earl's is not quite so good as mine, and his lordship would procure him a dispensation to hold both. Whatwould _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. --Myopinion then is, that Mr. Williams will not care to do any thingthat _requires_ a dispensation, and which would be unlawful withoutit. "--"Madam, " said Mr. Williams, "you speak exceedingly well. "

"I am glad, Mr. Williams, that you approve of my sentiments, requiredof me by one who has a right to command me in every thing: otherwisethis matter is above my sphere; and I have so much good will to Mr. Williams, that I wish him every thing that will contribute to make himhappy. "

"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 acurate; to whom, no doubt, Mr. Williams will be very genteel; and, as we are seldom or never there, his lordship thinks we shall not bedispleased with it, and insists upon proposing it to me; as he hasdone. "

Lord Davers said, "I think this may do very well, brother. But what, pray, Mr. Williams, do you propose to allow to your curate? Excuseme, Sir, but I think the clergy do so hardly by one another generally, that they are not to be surprised that some of the laity treat them asthey do. "

Said Mr. B. , "Tell us freely, Pamela, what you would advise yourfriend Mr. Williams to do. "

"And must I, Sir, speak my mind on such a point, before so many betterjudges?"

"Yes, _sister_, " said her ladyship (a name she is now pleased to giveme freely before strangers, after her dear brother's example, who iskindest, though always kind, at such times) "you _must_; if I may beallowed to say _must_. "--"Why then, " proceeded I, "I beg leave to askMr. Williams one question; that is, whether his present parishionersdo not respect and esteem him in that particular manner, which I thinkevery body must, who knows his worth?"

"I am very happy. Madam, in the good-will of all my parishioners, andhave great acknowledgments to make for their civilities to me. "--"Idon't doubt, " said I, "but it will be the same wherever you go; forbad as the world is, a prudent and good clergyman will never fail ofrespect. But, Sir, if you think your ministry among them is attendedwith good effects; if they esteem your person with a preference, andlisten 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 benefitby 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, adeportment, to engage people's attention and liking; and as you arealready in possession of their esteem, you are sure to do much of thegood 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, lethim 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 subjectmay be, with disgust. "

I paused here; but every one being silent--"As to the earl'sfriendship, Sir, " continued I, "you can best judge what force thatought to have upon you; and what I have mentioned would be the onlydifficulty with me, were I in Mr. Williams's case. To be sure, it willbe a high compliment to his lordship, and so he ought to think it, that you quit a better living to oblige him. And he will be bound inhonour to make it up to you. For I am far from thinking that aprudent regard to worldly interest misbecomes the character of a goodclergyman; and I wish all such were set above the world, for their ownsakes, as well as for the sakes of their hearers; since independencygives a man respect, besides the power of doing good, which willenhance that respect, and of consequence, give greater efficacy to hisdoctrines. 

"As to strengthening of a good man's influence, a point always to bewished, 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, aphilosopher, rest in a greater or lesser income? On the contrary, is it not oftener to be found in a happy competency or mediocrity?Suppose my dear Mr. B. Had five thousand pounds a year added to hispresent large income, would that increase his happiness? That it wouldadd to his cares, is no question; but could it give him one singlecomfort which he has not already? And if the dear gentleman had twoor three thousand less, might he be less happy on that account? No, surely; for it would render a greater prudence on my humble partnecessary, and a nearer inspection, and greater frugality, on his own;and he must be contented (if he did not, as now, perhaps, lay up everyyear) so long as he lived within his income. --And who will say, thatthe obligation to greater prudence and economy is a misfortune?

"The competency, therefore, the golden mean, is the thing; and I haveoften considered the matter, and endeavoured to square my actions bythe result of that consideration. For a person who, being not born toan estate, is not satisfied with a competency, will probably know nolimits to his desires. One whom an acquisition of one or two hundredpounds a year will not satisfy, will hardly sit down contented withany sum. For although he may propose to himself at a distance, thatsuch and such an acquisition will be the height of his ambition; yethe will, as he approaches to that, advance upon himself farther andfarther, 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. "

"Indeed, Madam, " said Mr. Williams, "after what I have heard from you, I would not, for the world, have been of another mind. "

"You are a good man, " said I; "and I have such an opinion of yourworthiness, and the credit you do your function, that I can neversuspect either your judgment or your conduct. But pray, Sir, may Iask, what have you determined to do?"--"Why, Madam, " replied he, "Iam staggered in that too, by the observation you just now made, thatwhere a man has the love of his parishioners, he ought not to think ofleaving them. "--"Else, Sir, I find you was rather inclined to obligethe 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 modestywill 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 reverend gentleman blushed. 

"The earl has of late years--we all know his character--given himselfup to carousing, and he will suffer no man to go from his table sober. Mr. Williams has taken the liberty to expostulate, as became hisfunction, with his lordship on this subject, and upon some otherirregularities, so agreeably, that the earl has taken a great likingto him, and promises, that he will suffer his reasonings to have aneffect upon him, and that he shall reform his whole household, ifhe will come and live near him, and regulate his table by his ownexample. The countess is a very good lady, and privately presses Mr. Williams to oblige the earl: and this is our worthy friend's maininducement; with the hope, which I should mention, that he has, ofpreserving untainted the morals of the two young gentlemen, the earl'sson, who, he fears, will be carried away by the force of such anexample: and he thinks, as the earl's living has fallen, mine may bebetter supplied than the earl's, if he, as he kindly offers, gives itme back again; otherwise the earl, as he apprehends, will find outfor his, some gentleman, if such an one can be found, as will ratherfurther, than obstruct his own irregularities, as was the unhappy caseof the last incumbent. "

"Well, " said Lady Davers, "I shall always have the highest respect forMr. 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 therectitude of her thinking and acting?"--"With all my heart, Madam, " replied Mr. Williams; "and I shall be proud of such adirection, "--"What say _you_, brother? You are to suppose the livingin your own hands again; will you leave the whole matter to my_sister_ here?"--"Come, my dear, " said Mr. B. , "let us hear howyou'd wish it to be ordered. I know you have not need of one moment'sconsideration, when once you are 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?"--"Conditionally, " saidMr. B. , "provided I cannot give satisfactory reasons, why I _ought_not to conform to her opinion; for this, as I said, is a point ofconscience with me; and I made it so, when I presented Mr. Williams tothe living: and have not been deceived in that presentation. "--"To besure, " 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 nodanger to commit an irreparable error. "

"I know well, Lady Davers, " added Mr. B. , "the power your sex haveover ours, and their subtle tricks: and so will never, in my weakestmoments, be drawn in to make a blindfold promise. There have beenseveral instances, both in sacred and profane story, of mischiefs doneby such surprises: so you must allow me to suspect myself, when I knowthe dear slut's power over me, and have been taught, by the inviolableregard she pays to her own word, to value mine--And now, Pamela, speakall that is in your heart to say. " "With your _requisite_ conditionin my eye, I will, Sir. But let me see that I state the matter right. And, preparative to it, pray, Mr. Williams, though you have not beenlong in possession of this living, yet, may-be, you can compute whatit 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 threehundred 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 thinkit short of your merits. But pray, Sir, what is the earl's livingvalued at?"

"At about two hundred and twenty pounds, Madam. "--"Well, then, "replied I, very pertly, "I 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 poundsper annum, and to accept of the earl's living of two hundred andtwenty. Dear Sir, I am going to be very bold; but under _your_condition nevertheless:--let the gentleman, to whom you shall presentthe 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:--forhow, dear Sir, were I to be so bold, shall I part with mychaplain?"--"Admirable! most admirable!" said Lord and Lady Davers, inthe same words. The countess praised the decision too; and Mr. H. Withhis "Let me be hang'd, " and his "Fore Gad's, " and such exclamationsnatural to him, made his plaudits. Mr. Williams said, he could wishwith all his heart it might be so; and Mr. Adams was so abashed andsurprised, that he could not hold up his head;--but joy danced in hissilent countenance, for all that. 

Mr. B. Having hesitated a few minutes. Lady Davers called out for hisobjection, or consent, according to condition, and he said, "I cannotso soon determine as that prompt slut did. I'll withdraw one minute. "

He did so, as I found afterwards to advise, like the considerate andgenteel spirit he possesses, with Mr. Williams, whom he beckoned out, and to examine whether he was in _earnest_ willing to give it up, orvery desirous for any one to succeed him; saying, that if he had, hethought himself obliged, in return for his worthy behaviour to him, topay a particular regard to his recommendation. And so being answeredas 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 Ihave incurred Mr. B. 's anger by my over-forwardness! Did he not lookdispleased? Dear ladies, if he be so, plead for me, and I'll withdrawwhen he comes in; for I cannot stand his anger: I have not been usedto it. "

"Never fear, Pamela, " said my lady; "he can't be angry at any thingyou say or do. But I wish, for the sake of what I have witnessed ofMr. Adams's behaviour and modesty, that such a thing could be donefor him. " Mr. Adams bowed, and said, "O my good ladies! 'tis tooconsiderable a thing: I cannot expect it--I do not--it would bepresumption if I did. "

Just then re-entered Mr. B. And Mr. Williams: the first with a statelyair, the other with a more peace-portending smile on his countenance. 

But Mr. B. Sitting down, "Well, Pamela, " said he, very gravely, "I seethat power is a dangerous thing in any hand. "--"Sir, Sir!" said I--"Mydear lady, " whispering to Lady Davers, "I will withdraw, as I said Iwould. " And I was getting away as fast as I could: but he arose andtook my hand, "Why is my charmer so soon frightened?" said he, mostkindly; and still more kindly, with a noble air, pressed it to hislips. "I must not carry my jest too far upon a mind so apprehensive, as I otherwise might be inclined to do. " And leading me to Mr. Adamsand Mr. Williams, he said, taking Mr. Williams's hand with his left, as he held mine in his right, "Your worthy brother clergyman, Mr. Adams, gives me leave to confirm the decision of my dear wife, whomyou are to thank for the living of E. Upon the condition she proposed;and may you give but as much satisfaction _there_, as you have donein _this_ family, and as Mr. Williams has given to his flock; and theywill then be pleased as much with your ministry as they have hithertobeen with his. "

Mr. Adams trembled with joy, and said, he could not tell how to bearthis excess of goodness in us both: and his countenance and eyes gavetestimony of a gratitude too high for further expression. 

As for myself, you, my honoured and dear friends, who know how much Iam always raised, when I am made the dispenser of acts of bounty andgenerosity to the deserving; and who now instead of incurring blame, as I had apprehended, found myself applauded by every one, and most bythe gentleman whose approbation I chiefly coveted to have: you, I say, will judge how greatly I must be delighted. 

But I was still more affected, when Mr. B. Directing himself to me, and to Mr. Williams at the same time, was pleased to say, "Here, mydear, you must thank this good gentleman for enabling you to give sucha shining proof of your excellence: and whenever I put power into yourhands for the future, act but as you have now done, and it will beimpossible that I should have any choice or will but yours. "

"O Sir, " said I, pressing his hand with my lips, forgetting how manywitnesses I had of my grateful fondness, "how shall I, oppressed withyour goodness, in such a signal instance as this, find words equal tothe gratitude of my heart!--But here, " patting my bosom, "just here, they stick;--and I cannot--"

And, indeed, I could say no more; and Mr. B. In the delicacy of hisapprehensiveness for me, led me into the next parlour; and placinghimself by me on the settee, said, "Take care, my best beloved, thatthe joy, which overflows your dear heart, for having done a beneficentaction to a deserving gentleman, does not affect you too much. "

My Lady Davers followed us: "Where is my angelic sister?" said she. "Ihave a share in her next to yourself, my noble brother. " And claspingme to her generous bosom, she ran over with expressions of favour tome, in a style and words, which would suffer, were I to endeavour torepeat them. 

Coffee being ready, we returned to the company. My Lord Davers waspleased to make me a great many compliments, and so did Mr. H. Afterhis manner. But the countess exceeded _herself_ in goodness. 

Mr. B. Was pleased to say, "It is a rule with me, not to leave tillto-morrow what can be done to-day:--and _when_, my dear, do youpropose to dispense with Mr. Adams's good offices in your family? Ordid you intend to induce him to go to town with us?"

"I had not proposed anything, Sir, as to that, for I had not askedyour kind direction: but the good dean will supply us, I doubt not, and when we set out for London, Mr. Adams will be at full liberty, with his worthy friend, Mr. Williams, to pursue the happy scheme yourgoodness has permitted to take effect. "

"Mr. Adams, my dear, who came so lately from the university, can, perhaps, recommend such another young gentleman as himself, to performthe functions he used to perform in your family. "

I looked, it seems, a little grave; and Mr. B. Said, "What have you tooffer, Pamela?--What have I said amiss?"

"Amiss! dear Sir!--"

"Ay, and dear Madam too! I see by your bashful seriousness, in placeof that smiling approbation which you always shew when I utter anything you _entirely_ approve, that I have said something which wouldrather meet with your acquiescence, than choice. So, as I have oftentold you, none of your reserves; and never _hesitate_ to me yourconsent in any thing, while you are sure I will conform to yourwishes, or pursue my own liking, as _either_ shall appear reasonableto me, when I have heard _your_ reasons. "

"Why, then, dear Sir, what I had presumed to think, but I submit it toyour better judgment, was, whether, since the gentleman who is so kindas to assist us in our family devotions, in some measure acts inthe province of the worthy dean, it were not right, that our ownparish-minister, whether here or in London, should name, or at leastapprove _our_ naming, the gentleman?"

"Why could not I have thought of that, as well as you, sauce-box?--Lady Davers, I am entirely on your side: I think shedeserves a slap now from us both. "

"I'll forgive her, " said my lady, "since I find her sentiments andactions as much a reproof to others as to me. "

"Mr. Williams, did you ever think, " said Mr. B. , "it would have cometo this?--Did you ever know such a saucy girl in your life?--Alreadyto give herself these reproaching airs?"--"No, never, if your honouris pleased to call the most excellent lady in the world by such aname, nor any body else. "

"Pamela, I charge you, " said the dear gentleman, "if you _study_for it, be sometimes in the wrong, that one may not always be takinglessons from such an assurance; but in our turns, have something toteach _you_. "

"Then, dear Sir, " said I, "must I not be a strange creature? For how, when you, and my good ladies, are continually giving me such charmingexamples, can I do a wrong thing?"

I hope you will forgive me, my dear, for being so tedious on theforegoing subject, and its most agreeable conclusion. It is animportant one, because several persons, as conferers or receivers, have found their pleasure and account in it; and it would be well, ifconversation were often attended with like happy consequences. I haveone merit to plead in behalf even of my prolixity; that in recitingthe delightful conferences I have the pleasure of holding with ournoble guests and Mr. B. , I am careful not to write twice upon onetopic, although several which I omit, may be more worthy of yournotice than those I give; so that you have as much variety from me, asthe nature of the facts and cases will admit of. 

But here I will conclude, having a very different subject, as a proofof what I have advanced, to touch in my next. Till when, I am _yourmost affectionate and faithful_, P. B. 

LETTER XXXIII

My dear Miss Darnford, I now proceed with my journal, which I brought down to Tuesdayevening; and of course I begin with

WEDNESDAY. 

Towards evening came Sir Jacob Swynford, on horseback, attended by twoservants in liveries. I was abroad; for I had got leave for a wholeafternoon, attended by my Polly; which time I passed in visiting noless than four poor sick families, whose hearts I made glad. But Ishould be too tedious, were I to give you the particulars; besides, I have a brief list of cases, which, when you'll favour me with yourcompany, I may shew you: for I oblige myself, though not desired, tokeep an account of what I do with no less than two hundred poundsa year, that Mr. B. Allows me to expend in acts of charity andbenevolence. 

Lady Davers told me afterwards, that Sir Jacob carried it mighty stiffand formal when he alighted. He strutted about the court-yard in hisboots, with his whip in his hand; and though her ladyship went to thegreat door, in order to welcome him, he turned short, and, whistling, followed the groom into the stable, as if he had been at an inn, only, instead of taking off his hat, pulling its broad brim over his eyes, for a compliment. In she went in a pet, as she says, saying to thecountess, "A surly brute he always was! _My_ uncle! He's more of anostler than a gentleman; I'm resolved I'll not stir to meet himagain. And yet the wretch loves respect from others, though he neverpractises common civility himself. "

The countess said, she was glad he was come, for she loved to divertherself with such odd characters now-and-then. 

And now let me give you a short description of him as I found him, when I came in, that you may the better conceive what sort of agentleman he is. 

He is about sixty-five years of age, a coarse, strong, big-boned man, with large irregular features; he has a haughty supercilious look, aswaggering gait, and a person not at all bespeaking one's favour inbehalf of his mind; and his mind, as you shall hear by and bye, notclearing up those prepossessions in his disfavour, with which hisperson and features at first strike one. His voice is big and surly;his eyes little and fiery; his mouth large, with yellow and blackishteeth, what are left of them being broken off to a tolerable regularheight, looked as if they were ground down to his gums, by constantuse. But with all these imperfections, he has an air that setshim somewhat above the mere vulgar, and makes one think half hisdisadvantages rather owing to his own haughty humour, than to nature;for he seems to be a perfect tyrant at first sight, a man used toprescribe, and not to be prescribed to; and has the advantage of ashrewd penetrating look, but which seems rather acquired than natural. 

After he had seen his horses well served, and put on an old-fashionedgold-buttoned coat, which by its freshness shewed he had been verychary of it, a better wig, but in stiff buckle, and a long sword, stuck stiffly, as if through his coat lappets, in he came, and withan imperious air entering the parlour, "What, nobody come to meet me!"said he; and saluting her ladyship. "How do you do, niece?" andlooked about haughtily, she says, as if he expected to see me. My ladypresenting the countess, said, "The Countess of C. , Sir Jacob!"--"Yourmost obedient humble servant, Madam. I hope his lordship iswell. "--"At your service, Sir Jacob. "

"I wish he was, " said he, bluntly; "he should not have voted as he didlast sessions, I can tell you that. "

"Why, Sir Jacob, " said she, "_servants_, in this free kingdom, don'talways do as their _masters_ would have 'em. "--"_Mine_ do, I can tellyou that. Madam. "

"Right or wrong, Sir Jacob?"--"It can't be wrong if I commandthem. "--"Why, truly, Sir Jacob, there's many a private gentlemancarries it higher to a servant, than he cares his _prince_ should tohim; but I thought, till now, it was the king only that could do nowrong. "

"But I always take care to be right. "--"A good reason--because, I daresay, you never think you can be in the wrong. "--"Your ladyship shouldspare me: I'm but just come off a journey. Let me turn myself about, and I'll be up with you, never fear. Madam. --But where's my nephew, Lady Davers? And where's your lord? I was told you were all here, andyoung H. Too upon a very extraordinary occasion; so I was willing tosee how causes went among you. It will be long enough before you cometo see me. "--"My brother, and Lord Davers, and Mr. H. Have all rodeout. "--"Well, niece, " strutting with his hands behind him, and hishead held up--"Ha!--He has made a fine kettle on't--han't he?--thatever such a rake should be so caught! They tell me, she's plaguycunning, and quite smart and handsome. But I wish his fatherwere living. Yet what could he have done? Your brother was alwaysunmanageable. I wish he'd been my son; by my faith, I do! What! Ihope, niece, he locks up his baby, while you're here? You don't keepher company, do you?"

"Yes, Sir Jacob, I do: and you'll do so too, when you see her. "--"Why, thou countenancest him in his folly, child: I'd a better opinion ofthy spirit! Thou married to a lord, and thy brother to a--Can'st tellme what, Barbara? If thou can'st, pr'ythee do. "--"To an angel; and soyou'll say presently. "

"What, dost think I shall look through _his_ foolish eyes? Whata disgrace to a family ancienter than the Conquest! _O Tempora! OMores!_ What will this world come to?" The countess was diverted withthis odd gentleman, but ran on in my praise, for fear he should saysome rude things to me when I came in; and Lady Davers seconded her. But all signified nothing. He would tell us both his mind, let theyoung whelp (that was his word) take it as he would--"And pray, " saidhe, "can't I see this fine body before he comes in? Let me but turnher round two or three times, and ask her a question or two; and byher answer I shall know what to think of her in a twinkling. "--"Sheis gone to take a little airing, Sir Jacob, and won't be back tillsupper-time. "

"Supper-time! Why, she is not to sit at table, is she? If she does, I won't; that's positive. But now you talk of a supper, what haveyou?--I must have a boiled chicken, and shall eat it all myself. Who'shousekeeper now? I suppose all's turned upside down. "

"No, there is not one new servant, except a girl that waits upon herown person: all the old ones remain. "--"That's much! These creaturesgenerally take as great state upon them as a born lady; and they're inthe right. If they can make the man stoop to the great point, they'llhold his nose to the grind-stone: and all the little ones come aboutin course. "--"Well, Sir Jacob, when you see her, you'll alter yourmind. "--"Never, never; that's positive. "

"Ay, Sir Jacob, I was as positive as you once; but I love her now aswell as if she were my own sister. "

"O hideous, hideous! All the fools he has made wherever he hastravelled, will clap their hands at him, and at you too, if you talkat this rate. But let me speak to Mrs. Jervis, if she be here: I'llorder my own supper. "

So he went out, saying, he knew the house, though in a bettermistress's days. The countess said, if Mr. B. As she hoped, kept histemper, there would be good diversion with the old gentleman. "O yes, "said my lady, "my brother will, I dare say. He despises the surlybrute too much to be angry with him, say what he will. " He talked agreat deal against me to Mrs. Jervis. You may guess, my dear, thatshe launched out in my praises; and he was offended at her, and said, "Woman! woman! forbear these ill-timed praises; her birth's a disgraceto our family. What! my sister's waiting-maid, taken upon charity!I cannot bear it. " I mention all these things, as I afterwards heardthem, because it shall prepare you to judge what a fine time I waslikely to have of it. When Mr. B. And my Lord Davers, and Mr. H. Camehome, which they did about half an hour after six, they were told whowas there, just as they entered the parlour; and Mr. B. Smiled at LordDavers, and entering, "Sir Jacob, " said he, "welcome to Bedfordshire;and thrice welcome to this house; I rejoice to see you. "

My lady says, never was so odd a figure as the old baronet made, whenthus accosted. He stood up indeed; but as Mr. B. Offered to take hishand, he put 'em both behind him. "Not that you know of. Sir!" Andthen looking up at his face, and down at his feet, three or four timessuccessively, "Are you my brother's son? That very individual son, that your good father used to boast of, and say, that for handsomeperson, true courage, noble mind, was not to be matched in any threecounties in England?"

"The very same, dear Sir, that my honoured father's partiality used tothink he never praised enough. "

"And what is all of it come to at last?--He paid well, did he not, toteach you to know the world, nephew! hadst thou been born a fool, or araw greenhead, or a doating greyhead--"--"What then, Sir Jacob?"--"Whythen thou wouldst have done just as thou hast done!"--"Come, come, SirJacob, you know not my inducement. You know not what an angel I havein person and mind. Your eyes shall by and bye be blest with the sightof her: your ears with hearing her speak: and then you'll call all youhave said, profanation. "--"What is it I hear? You talk in the languageof romance; and from the housekeeper to the head of the house, you'reall stark staring mad. Nephew, I wish, for thy own credit, thouwert--But what signifies wishing?--I hope you'll not bring your syreninto my company. "

"Yes, I will, Sir, because I love to give you pleasure. And say not aword more, for your own sake, till you see her. You'll have the lessto unsay, Sir Jacob, and the less to repent of. "

"I'm in an enchanted castle, that's certain. What a plague has thislittle witch done to you all? And how did she bring it about?"

The ladies and Lord Davers laughed, it seems; and Mr. B. Begging himto sit down, and answer him some family questions, he said, (forit seems he is very captious at times), "What, am I to belaughed at!--Lord Davers, I hope _you're_ not bewitched, too, areyou?"--"Indeed, Sir Jacob, 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'mworth in the world, and ever shall be worth, for such another wife. "He ran to the window, and throwing up the sash looking into thecourt-yard, said, "Hollo--So-ho! Groom--Jack--Jonas--Get me myhorse!--I'll keep no such company!--I'll be gone! Why, Jonas!" callingagain. 

"You're not in earnest, Sir Jacob, " said Mr. B. 

"I am!--I'll away to the village this night! Why you're all upon thehigh game! I'll--But who comes here?"--For just then, the chariotbrought me into the court-yard--"Who's this? who is she?"--"Oneof _my_ daughters, " started up the countess; "my youngest daughterJenny!--She's the pride of my family, Sir Jacob!"--"I was running; forI thought it was the grand enchantress. " Out steps Lady Davers to me;"Dear Pamela, " said she, "humour all that's said to you. Here'sSir Jacob come. You're the Countess of C. 's youngest daughterJenny--That's your cue. "--"Ah? but, Madam, " said I, "Lady Jenny is notmarried, " looking (before I thought) on a circumstance that I thinktoo much of sometimes, though I carry it off as well as I can. Shelaughed at my exception: "Come, Lady Jenny, " said she, (for I justentered the great door), "I hope you've had a fine airing. "--"A verypretty one, Madam, " said I, as I entered the parlour. "This is apleasant country, Lady Davers. " ("_Wink when I'm wrong, " whisperedI_), "Where's Mrs. B. ?" Then, as seeing a strange gentleman, I startedhalf back, into a more reserved air; and made him a low curt'sy. SirJacob looked as if he did not know what to think of it, now at me, nowat 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 greatroad. "--"Lady Jenny C. , " said Mr. B. , presenting me to his uncle. "Acharming creature!" added he: "Have you not a son worthy of suchan alliance?"--"Ay, nephew, this is a lady indeed! Why the plague, "whispered he, "could you not have pitched your tent here? Miss, byyour leave, " and saluting me, turned to the countess. "Madam, you'vea charming daughter! Had my rash nephew seen this lovely creature, and you condescended, he'd never have stooped to the cottage as he hasdone. "--"You're right, Sir Jacob, " said Mr. B. ; "but I always ran toofast for my fortune: yet these ladies of family never bring out theirjewels into bachelors' company; and when, too late, we see what we'vemissed, we are vexed at our precipitation. "

"Well said, however, boy. I wish thee repentance, though 'tis out ofthy power to mend. Be that one of thy curses, when thou seest thislady; as no doubt it is. " Again surveying me from head to foot, andturning me round, which, it seems, is a mighty practice with him to astranger lady, (and a modest one too, you'll say, Miss)--"Why, truly, you're a charming creature, Miss--Lady Jenny I would say--By yourleave, once more!--My Lady Countess, she is a charmer! But--but--"staring at me, "Are you married, Madam?" I looked a little silly; andmy new mamma came up to me, and took my hand: "Why, Jenny, you aredressed oddly to-day!--What a hoop you wear; it makes you look I can'ttell how!"

"Madam, I thought so; what signifies lying?--But 'tis only the hoop, Isee--Really, Lady Jenny, your hoop is enough to make half a hundredof our sex despair, lest you should be married. I thought it wassomething! 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 plainlyenough. You are so slender every where but _here_, " putting hishand upon my hip which quite dashed me; and I retired behind my LadyCountess's chair. 

"Fie, Sir Jacob!" said Mr. B. ; "before us young gentlemen, to takesuch liberties with a maiden lady! You give a bad example. "--"Hanghim that sets you a bad example, nephew. But I see you're right; I seeLady Jenny's a maiden lady, or she would not have been so shamefaced. I'll swear for her on occasion. Ha, ha, ha!--I'm sure, " repeated he, "she's a maiden--For our sex give the married ladies a freer air in atrice. "--"How, Sir Jacob!" said Lady Davers. 

"O fie!" said the countess. "Can't you praise the maiden ladies, butat the expense of the married ones! What do you see of freedom inme?"--"Or in me?" said Lady Davers. "Nay, for that matter you are verywell, I must needs say. But will you pretend to blush with that virginrose?--Od's my life, Miss--Lady Jenny I would say, come from behindyour mamma's chair, and you two ladies stand up now together. There, so you do--Why now, blush for blush, and Lady Jenny shall be threeto one, and a deeper crimson by half. Look you there else! An hundredguineas to one against the field. " Then stamping with one foot, andlifting up his hands and eyes "Lady Jenny has it all to nothing--Ha, ha, ha! You may well sit down both of you; but you're a blush toolate, I can tell you that. Well hast thou done. Lady Jenny, " tappingmy shoulder with his rough paw. 

I was hastening away, and he said, "But let's see you again, Miss; fornow will I stay, if they bring nobody else. " And away I went; for Iwas quite out of countenance, "What a strange creature, " thought I, "is this!" Supper being near ready, he called out for Lady Jenny, forthe sight of her, he said, did him good; but he was resolved not tosit down to table with _somebody else_. The countess said, she wouldfetch her daughter; and stepping out, returned saying, "Mrs. B. Understands that Sir Jacob is here, and does not choose to see her; soshe begs to be excused; and my Jenny and she desire to sup together. "

"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 withus. "--"I know, " said the countess, (who was desirous to see how far hecould 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 Ishould 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, " saidMr. B. "I see my uncle has as good a judgment as any body of fineladies. "--("_That I have, nephew. _")--"But he can't forgo his humour, in compliment to the finest lady in England. "

"Consider, nephew, 'tis not thy doing a foolish thing, and callinga girl wife, shall cram a niece down my throat, that's positive. Themoment she comes down to take place of these ladies, I am gone, that'smost certain. "--"Well then, shall I go up, and oblige Pamela to supby herself, and persuade Lady Jenny to come down to us?"--"With allmy soul, nephew, --a good notion. --But, Pamela--did you say?--A _queer_sort of name! I have heard of it somewhere!--Is it a Christian ora Pagan name?--Linsey-woolsey--half one, half t'other--like thygirl--Ha, ha, ha. "--"Let me be _hang'd_, " whispered Mr. H. To hisaunt, "if Sir Jacob has not a power of wit; though he is so whimsicalwith 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 namefor Lady Jenny. I have set a mark upon her, and should know her froma thousand, although she had changed her hoop. " Then he laughed again, and said, he hoped Lady Jenny would come--and without any body withher--"But I smell a plot, " said he--"By my soul I won't stay, ifthey both come together. I won't be put upon--But here is one orboth--Where's my whip?--I'll go. "--"Indeed, Mr. B. , I had rather havestaid with Mrs. B. , " said I, as I entered, as he had bid me. 

"'Tis she! 'tis she! You've nobody behind you!--No, she han't--Whynow, nephew, you are right; I was afraid you'd have put a trickupon me. --You'd _rather_, " repeated he to me, "have staid with Mrs. B. !--Yes, I warrant--But you shall be placed in better company, mydear child. "--"Sister, " said Mr. B. , "will you take that chair; forPamela does not choose to give my uncle disgust, who so seldom comesto see us. " My lady took the upper end of the table, and I sat nextbelow my new mamma. "So, Jenny, " said she, "how have you left Mrs. B. ?"--"A little concerned; but she was the easier, as Mr. B. Himselfdesired I'd come down. "

My Lord Davers sat next me, and Sir Jacob said, "Shall I beg a favourof 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'sright. I' faith, nephew, thou know'st what's right. Well, so I will. "He accordingly removed his seat, and I was very glad of it; for thoughI was sure to be stared at by him, yet I feared if he sat next me, hewould not keep his hands off my hoop. 

He ran on a deal in my praises, after his manner, but so rough attimes, that he gave me pain; and I was afraid too, lest he shouldobserve my ring; but he stared so much in my face, that it escaped hisnotice. After supper, the gentlemen sat down to their bottle, andthe ladies and I withdrew, and about twelve they broke up; Sir Jacobtalking of nothing but Lady Jenny, and wished Mr. B. Had happilymarried such a charming creature, who carried tokens of her high birthin her face, and whose every feature and look shewed her to be noblydescended. 

They let him go to bed with his mistake: but the countess said nextmorning, she thought she never saw a greater instance of stupid prideand churlishness; and should be sick of the advantage of birth orancestry, if this was the natural fruit of it. "For a man, " said herladyship, "to come to his nephew's house, and to suffer the mistressof it to be closetted up (as he thinks), in order to humour his absurdand brutal insolence, and to behave as he has done, is such a ridiculeupon the pride of descent, that I shall ever think of it. --O Mrs. B. , "said she, "what advantages have you over every one that sees you; butmost over those who pretend to treat you unworthily!" I expect to becalled to breakfast every minute, and shall then, perhaps, see howthis matter will end. I wish, when it is revealed, he may not be in afury, and think himself imposed on. I fear it won't go off so well asI wish; for every body seems to be grave, and angry at Sir Jacob. 

THURSDAY. 

I now proceed with my tale. At breakfast-time, when every one was sat, Sir Jacob began to call out for Lady Jenny. "But, " said he, "I'll havenone of your girl, nephew: although the chair at the tea-table is leftfor somebody. "--"No, " said Mr. B. , "we'll get Lady Jenny to supplyMrs. B. 's place, since you don't care to see her. "--"With all myheart, " replied he. --"But, uncle, " said Mr. B. , "have you really nodesire, no curiosity to see the girl I have married?"--"No, none atall, by my soul. "

Just then I came in, and paying my compliments to the company, and toSir Jacob--"Shall I, " said I, "supply Mrs. B. 's place in herabsence?" And down I sat. After breakfast, and the servants werewithdrawn--"Lady Jenny, " said Lady Davers, "you are a young lady, withall the advantages of birth and descent, and some of the best bloodin the kingdom runs in your veins; and here Sir Jacob Swynford isyour great admirer; cannot _you_, from whom it will come with a doublegrace, convince him that he acts unkindly at my brother's house, tokeep the person he has thought worthy of making the mistress of it, out of company? And let us know your opinion, whether mybrother himself does right, to comply with such an unreasonabledistaste?"--"Why, how now, Lady Davers! This from you! I did notexpect it!"

"My uncle, " said Mr. B. , "is the only person in the kingdom that Iwould have humoured thus: and I made no doubt, when he saw how willingI was to oblige him in such a point, he would have acted a moregenerous part than he has yet done. --But, Lady Jenny, what say you tomy sister's questions?"

"If I must speak my mind, " replied I, "I should take the liberty tobe 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 ofindifference and animosity between man and wife, and makes a gentlemandissatisfied with his choice, and perhaps unhappy as long as helives. "--"Nay, Miss, " said he, "if all are against me, and you, whosegood opinion I value most, you may e'en let the girl come, and sitdown. --If she is but half as pretty, and half as wise, and modest, asyou, I shall, as it cannot be helped, as you say, be ready to thinkbetter of the matter. For 'tis a little hard, I must needs say, if shehas hitherto appeared before all the good company, to keep her out ofthe way on my account. "--"Really, Sir Jacob, " said the countess, "Ihave blushed for you more than once on this occasion. But the mistressof this house is more than half as wise, and modest, and lovely: andin hopes you will return me back some of the blushes I have lentyou, see _there_, in my daughter Jenny, whom you have been so justlyadmiring, the mistress of the house, and the lady with the Paganname. " Sir Jacob sat aghast, looking at us all in turn, and then casthis eyes on the floor. At last, up he got, and swore a sad oath: "Andam I thus tricked and bamboozled, " that was his word; "am I? There'sno bearing this house, nor her presence, now, that's certain; and I'llbegone. "

Mr. B. Looking at me, and nodding his head towards Sir Jacob, as hewas in a flutter to begone, I rose from my chair, and went to him, andtook his hand. "I hope, Sir Jacob, you will be able to bear _both_, when you shall see no other difference but that of descent, betweenthe supposed Lady Jenny you so kindly praised, and the girl yourdear nephew has so much exalted. "--"Let me go, " said he; "I am mostconfoundedly bit. I cannot look you in the face! By my soul, I cannot!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 dearnephew can; for to him was the wrong, if any, and I am sure hecan overlook it. And for his sake, to the uncle of so honoured agentleman, to the brother of my late good lady, I can, with a bentknee, _thus_, ask your blessing, and your excuse for joining to keepyou in this suspense. "--"Bless you!" said he, and stamped--"Who canchoose but bless you?"-and he kneeled down, and wrapped his arms aboutme. --"But, curse me, " that was his strange word, "if ever I was sotouched before!" My dear Mr. B. , for fear my spirits should be toomuch affected (for the rough baronet, in his transport, had bent medown lower than I kneeled), came and held my arm; but permitted SirJacob to raise me; only saying, "How does my angel? Now she has madethis conquest, she has completed all her triumphs. "--"Angel, didyou call her?--I'm confounded with her goodness, and her sweetcarriage!--Rise, and let me see if I can stand myself! And, believeme, I am sorry I have acted thus so much like a bear; and the more Ithink of it, the more I shall be ashamed of myself. " And the tears, ashe spoke, ran down his rough cheeks; which moved me much; for to see aman with so hard a countenance weep, was a touching sight. 

Mr. H. Putting his handkerchief to his eyes, his aunt said, "What'sthe matter, Jackey?"--"I don't know how 'tis, " answered he; "buthere's strange doings, as ever I knew--For, day after day, one'sready to cry, without knowing whether it be for joy or sorrow!--Whata plague's the matter with me, I wonder!" And out he went, the twoladies, whose charming eyes, too, glistened with pleasure, smilingat the effect the scene had upon Mr. H. And at what he said. --"Well, Madam, " said Sir Jacob, approaching me; for I had sat down, but thenstood up--"You will forgive me; and from my heart I wish you joy. Bymy soul I do, "--and saluted me. --"I could not have believed there hadbeen such a person breathing. I don't wonder at my nephew's lovingyou!--And you call her sister, Lady Davers, don't you?--If you do, I'll own her for my niece. "

"Don't I!--Yes, I do, " said she, coming to me, "and am proud so tocall her. And this I tell you, for _your_ comfort, though to _my ownshame_, that I used her worse than you have done, before I knew herexcellence; and have repented of it ever since. "

I bowed to her ladyship, and kissed her hand--"My dearest lady, " saidI, "you have made me such rich amends since, that I am sure I may say, '_It was good for me that I was afflicted!_'"--"Why, nephew, she hasthe fear of God, I perceive, before her eyes too! I'm sure I've heardthose words. They are somewhere in the Scripture, I believe!--Why, whoknows but she may be a means to save your soul!--Hey, you know!"--"Ay, Sir Jacob, she'll be a means to save a hundred souls, and might go agreat 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 think ofit, I never knew you take any matter so patiently in my life. "--"Iknew, " said Mr. B. , "that every extravagance you insisted upon, washeightening my charmer's triumph, and increasing your own contrition;and, as I was not _indeed_ deprived of her company, I could bear withevery thing you said or did--Yet, don't you remember my caution, thatthe less you said against her, the less you'd have to unsay, and theless to repent of!"

"I do; and let me ride out, and call myself to account for all I havesaid against her, in her own hearing; and when I can think of but onehalf, and how she has taken it, by my soul, I believe 'twill make me_more_ than half mad. "

At dinner (when we had Mr. Williams's company), the baronet toldme, he admired me now, as much as when he thought me Lady Jenny; butcomplained of the trick put upon him by us all, and seemed now andthen a little serious upon it. 

He took great notice of the dexterity which he imputed to me, inperforming the honours of the table. And every now and then, he liftedup his eyes--"Very clever. --Why, Madam, you seem to me to be born tothese things!--I will be helped by nobody but you--And you'll have atask of it, I can tell you; for I have a whipping stomach, and werethere fifty dishes, I always taste of every one. " And, indeed, Johnwas in a manner wholly employed in going to and fro between thebaronet and me, for half an hour together. --He went from us afterwardsto Mrs. Jervis, and made her answer many questions about me, and howall 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. I never heard the like! She says you canplay on the harpsichord, and sing too; will you let a body have a tuneor so? My Mab can play pretty well, and so can Dolly; I'm a judge ofmusic, and would fain hear you. " I said, if he was a judge, I shouldbe afraid to play before him; but I would not be asked twice, afterour 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 itpurely!--But I see where it is. My girls have got _my_ fingers!" Thenhe held both hands out, and a fine pair of paws shewed he. "Plagueon't, they touch two keys at once; but those slender and nimblefingers, how they sweep along! My eye can't follow 'em--Whew, "whistled he, "they are here and there, and every where at once!--Why, nephew, I believe you have put another trick upon me. My niece iscertainly of quality! And report has not done her justice. --One moretune, one more song--By my faith, your voice goes sweetly to yourfingers. 'Slife--I'll thrash my jades, " that was his polite phrase, "when I get home. --Lady Davers, you know not the money they have costme to qualify them; and here's a mere baby to them outdoes 'em by abar's length, without any expense at all bestowed upon her. Go overthat again--Confound me for a puppy! I lost it by my prating. --Ay, there you have it! Oh! that I could but dance as well as thou sing'st!I'd give you a saraband, old as I am. "

After supper, we fell into a conversation, of which I must give yousome account, being on a topic that Mr. B. Has been blamed for in hismarrying me, and which has stuck by some of his friends, even afterthey have, in kindness to me, acquitted him in every other respect;and that is, _the example he has set to young gentlemen of family andfortune 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 thingsticks with me in this affair, which is, what will become of degreeor distinction, if this practice of gentlemen 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 have too many instances of this. You'll forgive me, both of you. "

"That, " said Lady Davers, "is the _only_ thing!--Sir Jacob has hitupon the point that would make one wish this example had not been setby a gentleman of such an ancient family, till one becomes acquaintedwith this dear creature; and then every body thinks it should not beotherwise than it is. "

"Ay, Pamela, " said Mr. B. , "what can you say to this? Cannot youdefend me from this charge? This is a point that has been oftenobjected to me; try for one of your pretty arguments in my behalf. "

"Indeed, Sir, " replied I, looking down, "it becomes not me to say anything to this. "--"But indeed it does, if you can: and I beg you'llhelp me 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. IndeedI should not, if I may judge for myself, speak one _word_ to thissubject. --For it is my absolute opinion, that degrees in generalshould be kept up; although I must always deem the present case anhappy exception to the rule. " Mr. B. Looked as if he still expected Ishould 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, youknow, I seldom urge you farther, when you use those words. But ifyou have any thing upon your mind to say, let's have it; for yourarguments are always new and unborrowed. "

"I would then, if I _must_, Sir, ask, if there be not a nation, orif there has not been a law in some nation, which, whenever a younggentleman, be _his_ degree what it would, has seduced a poor creature, be _her_ degree what it would, obliges him to marry that unhappyperson?"--"I think there is such a law in some country, I can't tellwhere, " said Sir Jacob. 

"And do you think, Sir, whether it be so or not, that it is equitableit should be so?"

"Yes, by my troth. Though I must needs own, if it were so in England, many men, that I know, would not have the wives they now have. "--"Youspeak to your knowledge, I doubt not, Sir Jacob?" said Mr. B. 

"Why, truly--I don't know but I do. "

"All then, " said I, "that I would infer, is, whether another law wouldnot be a still more just and equitable one, that the gentleman whois repulsed, from a principle of virtue and honour, should not becensured for marrying a person he could _not_ seduce? And whether itis not more for both their honours, if he does: since it is noblerto reward a virtue, than to repair a shame, were that shame to berepaired by matrimony, which I take the liberty to doubt. But I begpardon: you commanded me, Sir, else this subject should not have founda speaker to it, in me. "

"This is admirably said, " cried Sir Jacob. --"But yet this comes notup to the objection, " said Mr. B. "The setting an example towaiting-maids to aspire, and to young gentlemen to descend. And I willenter 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 myPamela, of which he cannot be so well informed as he has been ofthe disgrace which he imagined I had brought upon myself by marryingher. --I think it necessary, that as well those persons who are afraidthe example should be taken, as those who are inclined to follow it, should consider _all_ the material parts of it; otherwise, I think theprecedent may be justly cleared; and the fears of the one be judgedgroundless, and the plea of the other but a pretence, in order tocover a folly into which they would have fallen, whether they had thisexample 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 eithergood or hurt, will furnish, it is necessary, that the object of theirwish should be a girl of exquisite beauty (and that not only in theirown 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 andconscientious, though poor and obscure parents; who having preservedtheir integrity, through great trials and afflictions, have, bytheir examples, as well as precepts, laid deep in the girl's mind thefoundations of piety and virtue. 

"It is necessary that, to the charms of person, this waiting-maid, should have an humble, teachable mind, fine natural parts, asprightly, yet inoffensive wit, a temper so excellent, and a judgmentso solid, as should promise (by the love and esteem these qualitiesshould attract to herself from her fellow-servants, superior andinferior) that she would become a higher station, and be respectedin it. --And that, after so good a foundation laid by her parents, sheshould have all the advantages of female education conferred uponher; the example of an excellent lady, improving and building upon soworthy a foundation: a capacity surprisingly ready to take in all thatis taught her: an attention, assiduity, and diligence almost peculiarto herself, at her time of life; so as, at fifteen or sixteen years ofage, to be able to vie with any young ladies of rank, as well in thenatural genteelness of her person, as in her acquirements: and thatin nothing but her humility she should manifest any difference betweenherself and the high-born. 

"It will be necessary, moreover, that she should have a mind abovetemptation; that she should resist the _offers_ and _menaces_ of oneupon whom all her worldly happiness seemed to depend; the son of alady to whom she owed the greatest obligations; a person whom she didnot _hate_, but greatly _feared_, and whom her grateful heart wouldhave been _glad_ to oblige; and who sought to prevail over her virtue, by all the inducements that could be thought of, to _attract_ a youngunexperienced virgin at one time, or to _frighten_ her at another, into his purposes; who offered her very high terms, her circumstancesconsidered, as well for herself, as for parents she loved better thanherself, whose circumstances were low and distressful; yet, to allthese _offers_ and _menaces_, that she should be able to answer insuch words as these, which will always dwell upon my memory--'I rejectyour proposals with all my soul. May God desert me, whenever I makeworldly grandeur my chiefest good! I know I am in your power; I dreadyour will to ruin me is as great as your power. Yet, will I dare totell 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 willbore no part in the violation of me. ' And when future marriage wasintimated to her, to induce her to yield, to be able to answer, 'Themoment I yield to your proposals, there is an end of all merit, ifnow I have any. And I should be so far from _expecting_ such an honourthat I 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_ eye, and not partially so only in a young gentle man's_own_; and after that (what good persons would infinitely preferto beauty), thus piously principled; thus genteely educated andaccomplished; thus brilliantly witty; thus prudent, modest, generous, undesigning; and having been thus tempted, thus tried, by the man shehated not, pursued (not intriguingly pursuing), be thus inflexiblyvirtuous, and proof against temptation: let her reform her libertine, and let him marry her; and were he of princely extraction, I dareanswer for it, that no _two_ princes in _one age_, take the worldthrough, would be in danger. For, although I am sensible it is not tomy credit, I will say, that I never met with a repulse, nor a conductlike this; and yet I never sunk very low for the subjects of myattempts, either at home or abroad. These are obvious inferences, "added he, "not refinements upon my Pamela's story; and if thegentlemen were capable of thought and comparison, would rather makesuch an example, as is apprehended, _more_ than _less_ difficult than_before_. 

"But if, indeed, the young fellow be such a booby, that hecannot _reflect_ and _compare_, and take the case _with all itscircumstances_ together, I think his good papa or mamma should get hima wife to their own liking, as soon as possible; and the poorest girlin England, who is honest, should rather bless herself for escapingsuch a husband, than glory in the catch she would have of him. For hewould hardly do honour to his family in any one instance. "--"Indeed, "said the countess, "it would be pity, after all, that such an oneshould marry any lady of prudence and birth; for 'tis enough inconscience, that he is a disgrace to _one_ worthy family; it would bepity he should make _two_ unhappy. "

"Why, really, nephew, " said Sir Jacob, "I think you have said muchto the purpose. There is not so much danger, from the example, asI apprehended, from _sensible_ and _reflecting_ minds. I did notconsider this matter thoroughly, I must needs say. "

"And the business is, " said Lady Davers--"You'll excuse me, sister--There will be more people hear that Mr. B. Has married hismother's waiting-maid, than will know his inducements. "--"Not many, I believe, sister. For when 'tis known, I have some character in theworld, and am not quite an idiot (and my faults, in having not beenone of the most virtuous of men, will stand me in some stead in _this_case, though hardly in _any other_) they will naturally enquire intomy inducements. --But see you not, when we go abroad, what numbers ofpeople her character draws to admire the dear creature? Does not thisshew, that her virtue has made her more conspicuous than my fortunehas made me? For I passed up and down quietly enough before (handsomeas my equipage always was) and attracted not any body's notice: andindeed I had as lieve these honours were not so publicly paid _her_;for even, were I fond to shew and parade, what are they, but areproach to me? And can I have any excellence, but a secondary one, inhaving, after all my persecutions of her, done but common justice toher merit?--This answers your objection, Lady Davers, and shews that_my_ inducements and _her_ story must be equally known. And I reallythink (every thing I have said considered, and that might stillfarther be urged, and the conduct of the dear creature in the stationshe adorns, so much exceeding all I hoped or could expect from themost promising appearances), that she does _me_ more honour than Ihave done _her_; and if I could put myself in a third person's place, I think I should be of the same opinion, were I to determine upon suchanother pair, exactly circumstanced as we are. "

You may believe, my friend, how much this generous defence of thestep he had taken, attributing every thing to me, and deprecatinghis worthy self, affected me. I played with a cork one while, withmy rings another; looking down, and every way but on the company; forthey gazed too much upon me all the time; so that I could only glancea tearful eye now and then upon the dear man; and when it wouldoverflow, catch in my handkerchief the escaped fugitives that wouldstart unbidden beyond their proper limits, though I often tried, bya twinkling motion, to disperse the gathering water, before it hadformed itself into drops too big to be restrained. All the companypraised the dear generous speaker; and he was pleased to say farther, "Although, my good friends, I can truly say, that with all the prideof family, and the insolence of fortune, which once made me doubtwhether I should not sink too low, if I made my Pamela my mistress(for I should then have treated her not ungenerously, and should havesuffered her, perhaps, to call herself by my name), I have never oncerepented 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 myboast (and shall be, let others say what they will), that I can callsuch an excellence, and such a purity, which I so little deserve, mine; and I look down with contempt upon the rashness of all whoreflect upon me; for they can have no notion of my happiness or hermerit. "

"O dear Sir, how do you overrate my poor merit!--Some persons arehappy in a life of _comforts_, but mine's a life of _joy!_--Onerapturous instance follows another so fast, that I know not how tobear them. "

"Whew!" whistled Sir Jacob. "Whereabouts am I?--I hope by-and-byyou'll come down to our pitch, that one may put in a word or two withyou. "

"May you be long thus blest and happy together!" said Lady Davers. "Iknow not which to admire most, the dear girl that never was bad, orthe 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 lossto 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 allits force. "God continue you to one another, " added she, "for a creditto the state, and to human nature. "

Mr. H. , having his elbows on the table, folded his hands, shakingthem, and looking down--"Egad, this is uncommon life, that it is! Yourtwo souls, I can see that, are like well-tuned instruments; but theyare too high set for me, a vast deal. "

"The best thing, " said Lady Davers (always severe upon her poornephew), "thou ever saidst. The music must be equal to that ofOrpheus, which can make such a savage as thee dance to it. I chargethee, say not another word tonight. "--"Why, indeed, aunt, " returnedhe, laughing, "I believe it _was_ pretty well said for your foolishfellow: though it was by chance, I must confess; I did not think ofit. "--"That I believe, " replied my lady; "if thou hadst, thou'dst nothave spoken so well. "

Sir Jacob and Mr. B. Afterwards fell into a family discourse; and SirJacob told us of two or three courtships by his three sons, and tohis two daughters, and his reasons for disallowing them: and I couldobserve, he is an absolute tyrant in his family, though they are allmen and women grown, and he seemed to please himself how much theystood in awe of him. 

I would not have been so tediously trifling, but for the sake of mydear parents; and there is so much self-praise, as it may seem, from aperson on repeating the fine things said of herself, that I am halfof opinion I should send them to Kent only, and to think you should beobliged 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 longjournals, but common letters only, of how you do? and who and who'stogether, and of respects to one another, and so forth--letters thatone might dispatch, as Sir Jacob says, in a _twinkling_, and perhapsbe more to the purpose than the tedious scrawl which kisses yourhands, from _yours most sincerely_, P. B. 

Do, dear good Sir Simon, let Miss Polly add to our delights, by hercharming company. Mr. Murray, and the new affair will divert _you_, inher absence. --So pray, since my good Lady Darnford has consented, andshe is willing, and her sister can spare her; don't be so cross as todeny me. 

* * * * *

LETTER XXXIV

_From Miss Damford to Mrs. B. _

MY DEAR MRS. B. , You have given us great pleasure in your accounts of yourconversations, and of the verses put so wickedly under your seat; andin your just observations on the lines, and occasions. 

I am quite shocked, when I think of Lady Davers's passionateintentions at the hall, but have let nobody into the worst of thematter, in compliance with your desire. We are delighted with theaccount of your family management, and your Sunday's service. What anexcellent lady you are! And how happy and good you make all who knowyou, is seen by the ladies joining in your evening service, as well astheir domestics. 

We go on here swimmingly with our courtship. Never was there a fondercouple than Mr. Murray and Miss Nancy. The modest girl is quite alive, easy, and pleased, except now-and-then with me. We had a sad fallingout t'other day. Thus it was:--She had the assurance, on my saying, they were so fond and free before-hand, that they would leave nothingfor improvement afterwards, to tell me, she had long perceived, thatmy envy was very disquieting to me. This she said before Mr. Murray, who had the good manners to retire, seeing a storm rising betweenus. "Poor foolish girl!" cried I, when he was gone, provoked to greatcontempt by her expression before him, "thou wilt make me despise theein spite of my heart. But, pr'ythee, manage thy matters with commondecency, at least. "--"Good lack! _Common decency_, did you say? Whenmy sister Polly is able to shew me what it is, I shall hope to bebetter for her example. "--"No, thou'lt never be better for any body'sexample! Thy ill-nature and perverseness will continue to keep theefrom that. "--"My ill-temper, you have often told me, is _natural_ tome; so it must become _me:_ but upon such a sweet-tempered young ladyas Miss Polly, her late assumed petulance sits but ill!"

"I must have had no bad temper, and that every one says, to bear withthy sullen and perverse one, as I have done all my life. "

"But why can't you bear with it a little longer, sister? Does anything provoke you _now_" (with a sly leer and affected drawl) "thatdid not _formerly?_"

"Provoke me!--What should provoke me? I gave thee but a hint of thyfond folly, which makes thee behave so before company, that every onesmiles 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; and_ill-natured_ folks love to teaze, you know. But, dear Polly, don't let the affection Mr. Murray expresses for me, put such agood-tempered body out of humour, pray don't--Who knows" (continuedthe provoker, who never says a tolerable thing that is notill-natured) "but the gentleman may be happy that he has found a way, with so much ease, to dispense with the difficulty that eldership laidhim under? But, as he did you the favour to let the repulse come fromyou, 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, andplay over all thy monkey tricks with him, with all my heart; who knowsbut it may engage him more? For, should _he_ leave thee, I might betoo much provoked at thy ingratitude, _to turn over_ another gentlemanto thee. And let me tell thee, without such an introduction, thytemper would keep any body from thee, that knows it!"

"Poor Miss Polly--Come, be as easy as you can! Who knows but we mayfind out some cousin or friend of Mr. Murray's between us, that we maypersuade to address you? Don't make us your enemies: we'll try to makeyou easy, if we can. 'Tis a little hard, that you should be so cruellytaken at your word, that it is. "--"Dost think, " said I, "poor, stupid, ill-judging Nancy, that I can have the same regret for parting witha man I could not like, that thou hadst, when thy vain hopes met withthe repulse they deserved from Mr. B. ?"--"Mr. B. Come up again? I havenot heard of him a great while. "--"No, but it was necessary that onenail should drive out another; for thou'dst been repining still, hadnot Mr. Murray been _turned over_ to thee. "--"_Turned over!_ You usedthat word once before: such great wits as you, methinks, should notuse the same word twice. "

"How dost thou know what wits _should_ or should _not_ do? Thou hastno talent but ill-nature; and 'tis enough for thee, that _one_ viewtakes up thy whole thought. Pursue that--But I would only cautionthee, 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 somethingfor _hereafter_. "

"I'll call him in again, sister, and you shall acquaint us how you'dhave it. Bell" (for the maid came in just then), "tell Mr. Murray Idesire him to walk in. "--"I'm glad to see thee so teachable all atonce!--I find now what was the cause of thy constant perverseness: forhad the unavailing lessons my mamma was always inculcating into thee, come from a _man_ thou couldst have had hopes of, they had succeededbetter. "

In came Sir Simon with his crutch-stick--But can you bear thisnonsense, Mrs. B. ?--"What sparring, jangling again, you sluts!--O whatfiery eyes on one side! and contemptuous looks on t'other!"

"Why, papa, my sister Polly has _turned over_ Mr. Murray to me, andshe wants him back again, and he won't come--That's all the matter!"

"You know Nancy, papa, never could _bear_ reproof, and yet wouldalways _deserve_ it!--I was only gently remarking for her instruction, on her fondness before company, and she is as she _used tobe!_--Courtship, indeed, is a new thing to the poor girl, and so sheknows not how to behave herself in it. "

"So, Polly, because you have been able to run over a long list ofhumble servants, you must insult your sister, must you?--But are youreally concerned, Polly?--Hey!"--"Sir, this or anything is very wellfrom you. But these imputations of envy, before Mr. Murray, must makethe man very considerable with himself. Poor Nancy don't considerthat. But, indeed, how should she? How should _she_ be able toreflect, who knows not what reflection is, except of the spitefulsort? But, papa, should the poor thing add to _his_ vanity, whichwants no addition, at the expense of that pride, which can onlypreserve her from contempt?"

I saw her affected, and was resolved to pursue my advantage. 

"Pr'ythee, Nancy, " continued I, "canst thou not have a _little_patience, child--My papa will set the day as soon as he shall think itproper. And don't let thy man toil to keep pace with thy fondness; forI have pitied him many a time, when I have seen him stretched on thetenters to keep thee in countenance. "

This set the ill-natured girl in tears and fretfulness; all her oldtemper came upon her, as I designed it should, for she had kept me atbay longer than usual; and I left her under the dominion of it, andbecause I would not come into fresh dispute, got my mamma's leave, andwent in the chariot, to beg a dinner at Lady Jones's; and then camehome as cool and as easy as I used to be; and found Nancy as sullenand silent, as was her custom, before Mr. Murray tendered himself toher ready acceptance. But I went to my spinnet, and suffered her toswell on. 

We have said nothing but No and Yes ever since; and I wish I was withyou for a month, and all their nonsense over without me. I am, my dear, obliging, and excellent Mrs. B. , _your faithful andaffectionate_

Polly Darnford. 

The two following anticipating the order of time, for the reasonsformerly mentioned, we insert here. 

 * * * * *

LETTER XXXV

_From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. _

MY DEAR MRS. B. , Pray give my service to your Mr. B. And tell him he is very impolitein his reflections upon me, as to Mr. Murray, when he supposes Iregret the loss of him. You are much more favourable and _just_ too, I will say, to your Polly Damford. These gentlemen, the very bestof them, are such indelicates! They think so highly of their saucyselves, and confident sex, as if a lady cannot from _her_ heartdespise them; but if she turns them off, as they deserve, andcontinues her dislike, what should be interpreted in her favour, as ajust and _regular_ conduct, is turned against her, and it must proceedfrom spite. Mr. B. May think he knows much of the sex. But were I asmalicious as he is reflecting (and yet, if I have any malice, he hasraised it), I could say, that his acquaintance, was not with the mostunexceptionable, till he knew you: and he has not long enough beenhappy in you, I find, to do justice to those who are proud to emulateyour virtues. 

I say, Mrs. B. , there can be no living with these men upon suchbeginnings. They ought to know their distance, or be taught it, andnot to think it in their power to confer that as a favour, which theyshould esteem it an honour to receive. 

But neither can I bear, it seems, the preparatives to matrimony, thefine clothes, the compliments, the _busy novelty_, as he calls it, thenew equipages, and so forth. 

That's his mistake again, tell him: for one who can look forwarderthan the nine days of wonder, can easily despise so flashy and sotransient a glare. And were I fond of compliments, it would not, perhaps, be the way to be pleased, in that respect, if I were tomarry. 

Compliments in the single state are a lady's due, whether courted ornot; and she receives, or ought always to receive them, as such; butin courtship they are poured out upon one, like a hasty shower, soonto be over. A mighty comfortable consideration this, to a lady who_loves to be complimented_! Instead of the refreshing April-likeshowers, which beautify the sun-shine, she shall stand a deluge ofcomplaisance, be wet to the skin with it; and what then? Why be in aLybian desert ever after!--experience a constant parching drought andall her attributed excellencies will be swallowed up in the quicksandsof matrimony. It may be otherwise with you; and it _must_ be so;because there is such an infinite variety in your excellence. But doesMr. B. Think it must be so in _every_ matrimony?

'Tis true, he improves every hour, as I see in his fine speeches toyou. 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, wouldhe be, who should seek to obscure a meridian lustre, that dazzles theeyes of every one else?

I thank you for your delightful narratives, and beg you to continuethem. I told you how your Saturday's conversation with Lady Davers, and your Sunday employments, charm us all: so regular, and so easy tobe performed--That's the delightful thing--What every body may do;-andyet so beautiful, so laudable, so uncommon in the practice, especiallyamong people in genteel life!--Your conversation and decision inrelation to the two parsons (more than charm) transport us. Mr. B. Judges right, and acts a charming part, to throw such a fine game intoyour hands. And so excellently do you play it, that you do as muchcredit to your partner's judgment as to your own. Never was so happy acouple. 

Mr. Williams is more my favourite than ever; and the amply rewardedMr. Adams, how did that scene affect us! Again and again, I say (forwhat can I say else or more--since I can't find words to speak all Ithink?), you're a charming lady! Yet, methinks, poor Mr. H. Makes buta sorry figure among you. We are delighted with Lady Davers; but stillmore, if possible, with the countess: she is a fine lady, as you havedrawn her: but your characters, though truth and nature, are the mostshocking, or the most amiable, that I ever read. 

We are full of impatience to hear of the arrival of Sir JacobSwynford. We know his character pretty well: but when he has sat forit to your pencil, it must be an original indeed. I will have anothertrial with my papa, to move him to let me attend you. I am rallyingmy forces, and have got my mamma on my side again; who is concernedto see her girl vexed and insulted by her younger sister; and who yetminds no more what _she_ says to her, than what I say; and Sir Simonloves to make mischief between us, instead of interposing to silenceeither: and truly, I am afraid his delight of this kind will make himdeny his Polly what she so ardently wishes for. I had a good mind tobe sick, to be with you. I could fast two or three days, to give itthe better appearance; but then my mamma, who loves not deceit, wouldblame me, if she knew my stratagem; and be grieved, if she thought Iwas really ill. I know, fasting, when one has a stomach to eat, givesone a very gloomy and mortified air. What would I not do, in short, to procure to myself the inexpressible pleasure that I should have inyour company and conversation? But continue to write to me till then, however, and that will be _next best_. I am _your most obliged andobedient_ POLLY DARNFORD. 

LETTER XXXVI

From the same. 

My Dearest Mrs. B. , I am all over joy and rapture. My good papa permits me to say, thathe will put his Polly under your protection, when you go to London. Ifyou have but a _tenth part_ of the pleasure I have on this occasion, Iam 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 carryalong with _me_, that I am intrusted to his honour and yours, and to be returned to him _heart-whole_ and _dutiful_, and witha reputation as unsullied as he receives me. But do continue yourjournals till then; for I have promised to take them up where youleave off, to divert our friends here. There will be presumption!But yet I will write nothing but what I will shew you, and have yourconsent to send! For I was taught early not to tell tales out ofschool; and a school, the best I ever went to, will be your charmingconversation. 

We were greatly diverted with the trick put upon that _barbarian_Sir Jacob. His obstinacy, repentance, and amendment, followedso irresistibly in one half hour, from the happy thought of theexcellent lady countess, that I think no plot was ever more fortunate. It was like springing a lucky mine in a siege, that blew up twentytimes 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; andhe judges with his usual generosity and good sense, when, by adding toyour honour, he knows he enhances his own. 

You bid me skim over your writings lightly; but 'tis impossible. Iwill not flatter you, my dear Mrs. B. , nor will I be suspected todo so; and yet I cannot find words to praise, so much as I think youdeserve: so I will only say that your good parents, for whose pleasureyou write, as well as for mine, cannot receive or read them with moredelight than I do. Even my sister Nancy (judge of their effect bythis!) will at any time leave Murray, and forget to frown or beill-natured, while she can hear read what you write. And, angry asshe makes me some times, I cannot deny her this pleasure, becausepossibly, among the innumerable improving reflections they aboundwith, some one may possibly dart in upon her, and illuminate her, asyour conversation and behaviour did Sir Jacob. 

But your application in P. S. To my papa pleased him; and confirmed hisresolution 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, "She's a sweet one: '_Do dear good Sir Simon_, '" repeated he aloud, "'_let Miss Polly add to our delights!_' So she shall, then;--if thatwill do it!--And yet this same Mrs. B. Has so many delights already, that I should think she might be contented. But, Dame Darnford, Ithink I'll let her go. These sisters then, you'll see, how they'lllove at a distance, though always quarrelling when together. " Heread on, "'_The new affair will divert you--Lady Darnford hasconsented--Miss is willing; and her sister can spare her;'_--Veryprettily put, faith--'_And don't you be cross_'--Very sweet '_todeny me_. '--Why, dear Mrs. B. , I won't be so cross then; indeed Iwon'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 a letterevery post, remember that, girl. "

"Any thing, any thing, dear papa, " said I: "so I can but go!" Hecalled for a kiss, for his compliance. I gave it most willingly, youmay believe. 

Nancy looked envious, although Mr. Murray came in just then. Shelooked almost like a great glutton, whom I remember; one Sir JonathanSmith, who killed himself with eating: he used, while he was heapingup his plate from one dish, to watch the others, and follow the knifeof every body else with such a greedy eye, as if he could swear arobbery against any one who presumed to eat as well as he. 

Well, let's know when you set out, and you shan't have been a week inLondon, if I can help it, but you shall be told by my tongue, as nowby my pen, how much I am _your obliged admirer and friend_, POLLYDARNFORD. 

LETTER XXXVII

MY DEAR FRIEND, I now proceed with my journal, which I had brought down to Thursdaynight. 

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 _benevolentround_ (as they, after we returned, would call it), which I generallytake once a week, among my poor and sick neighbours; and finding Icould not get off, I set out with them, my lady countess proposingMrs. Worden to fill up the fourth place in the coach. We talked allthe way of charity, and the excellence of that duty; and my LadyDavers took notice of the text, that it would hide a _multitude offaults_. 

The countess said she had once a much better opinion of herself, than she found she had reason for, within these _few_ days past: "Andindeed, Mrs. B. , " said she, "when I get home, I shall make a good manypeople the better for your example. " And so said Lady Davers; whichgave me no small inward pleasure; and I acknowledged, in suitableterms, the honour they both did me. The coach set us down by the sideof a large common, about five miles distant from our house; and wealighted, and walked a little way, choosing not to have the coach comenearer, that we might be taken as little notice of as possible; andthey entered with me into two mean cots with great condescension andgoodness; one belonging to a poor widow and five children, who hadbeen all down in agues and fevers; the other to a man and his wifebed-rid with age and infirmities, and two honest daughters, one awidow with two children, the other married to an husbandman, who hadalso been ill, but now, by comfortable cordials, and good physic, werepretty well to what they had been. 

The two ladies were well pleased with my demeanour to the good folks:to whom I said, that as I should go so soon to London, I was willingto see them before I went, to wish them better and better, and to tellthem, that I should leave orders with Mrs. Jervis concerning them, towhom they must make known their wants: and that Mr. Barrow would takecare of them, I was sure; and do all that was in the power of physicfor the restoration of their healths. 

Now you must know, Miss, that I am not so good as the old ladies offormer days, who used to distil cordial waters, and prepare medicines, and dispense them themselves. I knew, if I were so inclined, my dearMr. B. Would not have been pleased with it, because in the approbationhe has kindly given to my present method, he has twice or thricepraised me, that I don't carry my charity to extremes, and make hishouse a dispensatory. I would not, therefore, by aiming at doing toomuch, 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 veryskilful and honest apothecary, and one Mr. Simmonds, a surgeon oflike character, to attend to all such cases and persons as I shallrecommend; Mr. Barrow, to administer physic and cordials, as he shalljudge 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 aservant to ask questions, all is kept right. 

My Lady Davers observed a Bible, a Common Prayer-book, and a WholeDuty of Man, in each cot, in leathern outside cases, to keep themclean, and a Church Catechism or two for the children; and was pleasedto say, it was right; and her ladyship asked one of the children, a pretty girl, who learnt her her catechism? And she curtsey'd andlooked at me; for I do ask the children questions, when I come, toknow how they improve; "'Tis as I thought, " said my lady; "my sisterprovides for both parts. God bless you, my dear!" said she, and tappedmy 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 aswe went out, my Lady Davers, with a serious air, was pleased to say tome, "Take care of your health, my dear sister; and God give you, whenit comes, a happy hour: for how many real mourners would you have, ifyou 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 thathas so wonderfully put it in my power to do a little good, will raiseup new friends to the honest hearts that rely upon him. "

This I said, because some of the good people heard my lady, and seemedtroubled, and began to redouble their prayers, for my safety andpreservation. 

We walked thence to our coach, and stretched a little farther, tovisit two farmers' families, about a mile distant from each other. One had the mother of the family, with two sons, just recovering, theformer from a fever, the latter from tertian agues; and I asked, whenthey saw Mr. Barrow? They told me, with great commendations of him, that he had but just left them. So, having congratulated their hopefulway, and wished them to take care of themselves, and not go too earlyto business, I said I should desire Mr. Barrow to watch over them, forfear of a relapse, and should hardly see 'em again for some time; andso I slid, in a manner not to be observed, a couple of guineas intothe good woman's hand; for I had a hint given me by Mrs. Jervis, thattheir illness had made it low with them. 

We proceeded then to the other farm, where the case was a marrieddaughter, who had a very dangerous lying-in, and a wicked husband whohad abused her, and run away from her; but she was mending apace, bygood comfortable things, which from time to time I had caused to besent her. Her old father had been a little unkind to her, before Itook notice of her; for she married against his consent; and indeedthe world went hard with the poor man, and he could not do much; andbesides, he had a younger daughter, who had lost all her limbs, andwas forced to be tied in a wicker chair, to keep her up in it; which(having expended much to relieve her) was a great _pull-back_, as thegood old woman called it. And having been a year in arrear to a harshlandlord, who, finding a good stock upon the ground, threatened todistress the poor family, and turn them out of all, I advanced themoney upon the stock; and the poor man has already paid me half of it(for, Miss, I must keep within compass too), which was fifty pounds atfirst, and is in a fair way to pay me the other half, and make as muchmore for himself. 

Here I found Mr. Barrow, and he gave me an account of the successof two other cases I had recommended to him; and told me, that JohnSmith, a poor man, who, in thatching a barn, had tumbled down, andbroken his leg, and bruised himself all over, was in a fair way ofrecovery. This poor creature had like to have perished by the crueltyof the parish officers, who would have passed him away to Essex, where his settlement was, though in a burning fever, occasioned by hismisfortune; but hearing of the case, I directed Mr. Simmonds to attendhim, and to provide for him at my expense, and gave my word, if hedied, to bury him. 

I was glad to hear he was in so good a way, and told Mr. Barrow, Ihoped to see him and Mr. Simmonds together at Mr. B. 's, before Iset out for London, that we might advise about the cases under theirdirection, and that I might acquit myself of some of my obligations tothem. 

"You are a good man, Mr. Barrow, " added I: "God will bless you foryour care and kindness to these poor destitute creatures. They allpraise you, and do nothing but talk of your humanity to them. "

"O my good lady, " said he, "who can forbear following such an exampleas you set? Mr. Simmonds can testify as well as I (for now and thena case requires us to visit together) that we can hardly hear anycomplaints from our poor patients, let 'em be ever so ill, for thepraises and blessings they bestow upon you. "

"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, andthank you and Mr. Simmonds: we all join together, you know, for theirgood. "

The countess and Lady Davers asked the poor lying-in woman manyquestions, and left with her, and for her poor sister, a miserableobject indeed!--(God be praised that I am not such an one!) marks oftheir bounty in gold, and looking upon one another, and then upon me, and lifting up their hands, could not say a word till we were in thecoach: and so we were carried home, after we had just looked in upona country school, where I pay for the learning of eight children. Andhere (I hope I recite not this with pride, though I do with pleasure)is a cursory account of my _benevolent weekly round_, as my ladieswill call it. I know you will not be displeased with it; but it willhighly delight my worthy parents, who, in their way, do a great dealof discreet good in their neighbourhood: for indeed, Miss, a littlematter, _prudently_ bestowed, and on true objects of compassion (whosecases 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 cases. --For suchpoor people, who live generally low, want very seldom any thingbut reviving cordials at first, and good wholesome kitchen physicafterwards: and then the wheels of nature, being unclogged, new oiled, as it were, and set right, they will go round again with pleasantnessand ease for a good while together, by virtue of that exercise whichtheir labour gives them; while the rich and voluptuous are forced toundergo great fatigues to keep theirs clean and in order. 

SATURDAY MORNING. 

It is hardly right to trouble either of you, my honouredcorrespondents, 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 case. And this I cannot forbear doing. 

A pretty genteel young body, my Polly Barlow, as I call her, havingbeen well recommended, and behaved with great prudence till this time, is the cause. 

My dear Mr. B. And the two ladies, agreed with me to take a littleairing in the coach, and to call in upon Mr. Martin, who had a presentmade him for his menagerie, in which he takes a great delight, of arare and uncommon creature, a native of the East Indies. But justas Sir Jacob was on horseback to accompany them, and the ladies wereready to go, I was taken with a sudden disorder and faintishness; sothat Lady Davers, who is very tender of me, and watches every changeof my countenance, would not let me go with them, though my disorderwas going off: and my dear Mr. B. Was pleased to excuse me; and justmeeting with Mr. Williams, as they went to the coach, they took himwith them, to fill up the vacant place. So I retired to my closet, andshut myself in. 

They had asked Mr. H. To go with them, for company to Sir Jacob; buthe (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 shesat, and sung a little catch, and cried, "Hem!" twice; and presentlyI heard two voices. But suspecting nothing, I wrote on, till I hearda kind of rustling and struggling, and Polly's voice crying, "Fie--Howcan you do so!--Pray, Sir. "

This alarmed me much, because we have such orderly folks about us; andI looked through the key-hole; and, to my surprise and concern, sawMr. H. --foolish gentleman!--taking liberties with Polly, that neitherbecame him to offer, nor, more foolish girl! her to suffer. Andhaving reason to think, that this was not their first interview, andfreedom--and the girl sometimes encouragingly laughing, as at othertimes, inconsistently, struggling and complaining, in an accent thatwas too tender for the occasion, I forced a faint cough. This frightedthem both: Mr. H. Swore, and said, "Who can that be?--Your lady's gonewith them, isn't she?"

"I believe so!--I hope so!" said the silly girl--"yet that was likeher voice!--Me'm, are you in your closet, Me'm?" said she, comingup to the door; Mr. H. Standing like a poor thief, half behind thewindow-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 plainyou did, Polly. --Go and shut the chamber door, and come to me again. "

She did, but trembled, and was so full of confusion, that I pitied thepoor creature, and hardly knew how to speak to her. For my compassiongot the upper hand of my resentment; and as she stood quaking andtrembling, and looking on the ground with a countenance I cannotdescribe, I now and then cast my eye upon her, and was as often forcedto put my handkerchief to it. 

At last I said, "How long have these freedoms past between you and Mr. H. ?--I am loth to be censorious, Polly; but it is too plain, that Mr. H. Would not have followed you into my chamber, if he had not met youat other places. "--The poor girl said never a word. --"Little did Iexpect, Polly, that you would have shewn so much imprudence. You havehad instances of the vile arts of men against poor maidens: haveyou any notion that Mr. H. Intends to do honourably by you?"--"Me'm--Me'm--I believe--I hope--I dare say, Mr. H. Would not dootherwise. "--"So much the worse that you believe so, if you have notvery good reason for your belief. Does he pretend that he will marryyou?"--She was silent. --"Tell me, Polly, if he does?"--"He sayshe will do honourably by me. "--"But you know there is but one wordnecessary to explain that other precious word _honour_, in this case. It is _matrimony_. That word is as soon spoken as any other, and ifhe _means_ it, he will not be shy to _speak_ it. "--She was silent. --"Tell me, Polly (for I am really greatly concerned for you), whatyou think _yourself_; do you _hope_ he will marry you?"--She wassilent. --"Do, good Polly (I hope I may call you _good_ yet!), answer me. "--"Pray, Madam!" and she wept, and turned from me, to thewainscot--"Pray, excuse me. "--"But, indeed, Polly, I cannot _excuse_you. You are under my protection. I was once in as dangerous asituation as you can be in. And I did not escape it, child, by thelanguage and conduct I heard from you. "--"Language and conduct, Me'm!"--"Yes, Polly, language and conduct. Do you think, if I had setme down in my lady's bed-chamber, sung a song, and hemm'd twice, andMr. B. Coming to me, upon that signal (for such I doubt it was), I hadkept my place, and suffered myself to be rumpled, and only, in a softvoice, and with an encouraging laugh, cried--'How can you do so?' thatI should have been what I am?"--"Me'm, I dare say, my lord" (so allthe servants call him, and his aunt often, when she puts Jackeyto it), "means no hurt. "--"No hurt, Polly! What, and make you cry'_Fie!_'-or do you intend to trust your honour to his mercy, ratherthan to your own discretion?"--"I hope not, Me'm!"--"I hope not too, Polly!--But you know he was free enough with you, to make you say'_Fie!_' And what might have been the case, who knows? had I notcoughed on purpose: unwilling, for your sake, Polly, to find mattersso bad as I feared, and that you would have been led beyond what wasreputable. "

"Reputable, Me'm!"--"Yes, Polly: I am sorry you oblige me to speak soplain. But your good requires it. Instead of flying from him, you notonly laughed when you cried out, '_Fie!_' and '_How can you do so?_'but had no other care than to see if any body heard you; and youobserve how he slid away, like a guilty creature, on my opening thedoor--Do these things look well, Polly? Do you think they do?--And ifyou hope to emulate my good fortune, do you think _this_ is the way?"

"I wish, Me'm, I had never seen Mr. H. For nobody will look upon me, if I lose your favour!"

"It will still, Polly" (and I took her hand, with a kind look), "be inyour power to keep it: I will not mention this matter, if you make meyour friend, and tell me all that has passed. "--Again she wept, andwas silent. --This made me more uneasy. --"Don't think, Polly, " said I, "that I would envy any other person's preferment, when I have beenso much exalted myself. If Mr. H. Has talked to you of marriage, tellme. "--"No, 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: but whenever they _mean_ it, how can they confirm a doubtingmaiden, without _mentioning_ it: but alas for you, poor Polly!--Thefreedoms you have permitted, no doubt, previous to those I heard, andwhich might have been greater, had 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 Iwould not have done any ill for the world. "

"I hope you would not, Polly; but if you suffer these freedoms, youcan't tell what you'd have permitted--Tell me, do you love Mr. H. ?"

"He is very good-humoured, Madam, and is not proud. "--"No, 'tis nothis business to be proud, when he hopes to humble you--humble you, indeed!--beneath the lowest person of the sex, that is honest. "--"Ihope----"--"You _hope!_" interrupted I. "You _hope_ too much; andI _fear a great deal_ for you, because you fear so _little_ foryourself. --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, youneither imagined nor intended any body should see you. "

She was silent; and I saw by this, poor girl, how true lovers are totheir 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, andpeople would have said, "Aye, she could take care enough of herself, but none at all of her servant: _her_ waiting-maid had a much moreremiss mistress than Pamela found, or the matter would not have beenthus. "

"Well, Polly, I see, " continued I, "that you will not speak out to me. You may have _several_ reasons for it, possibly, though not _one_ goodone. But as soon as Lady Davers comes in, who has a great concern inthis matter, as well as Lord Davers, and are answerable to Lord H. In a matter of so much importance as this, I will leave it to herladyship's consideration, and shall no more concern myself to ask youquestions about it--For then I must take her ladyship's directions, and part with you, to be sure. "

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 LadyDavers with it. 

"But how can I help it?--Must I not connive at your proceedings, ifI do not? You are no fool, Polly, in other cases. Tell me, how it ispossible for me, in my situation, to avoid it?"

"I will tell your ladyship the whole truth; indeed I will--if youwill not tell Lady Davers. I am ready to sink at the thoughts of LadyDavers knowing any thing of this. "

This looked sadly. I pitied her, but yet was angry in my mind; for Isaw, too plainly, that her conduct could not bear a scrutiny, not evenin _her own _opinion, poor creature. 

I said, "Make me acquainted with the whole. "--"Will your ladyshippromise--"--"I'll promise nothing, Polly. When I have heard all youthink proper to say, I will do what befits me to do; but with as muchtenderness as I can for you--and that's all you ought to expect meto promise. "--"Why then, Madam--But how can I speak it?--I can speaksooner to any body, than to Lady Davers and you, Madam: for herladyship's passion, and your ladyship's virtue--How shall I?"--Andthen she threw herself at my feet, and hid her face with her apron. 

I was in agonies for her, almost; I wept over her, and raised her up, and said, "Tell me all. You cannot tell me worse than I apprehend, norI hope so bad! O Polly, tell me soon. --For you give me great pain. "

And my back, with grief and compassion for the poor girl, was readyto open, as it seemed to me. --In my former distresses, I have beenovercome by fainting next to death, and was deprived of sense for somemoments--But else, I imagine, I must have felt some such affectingsensation, as the unhappy girl's case gave me. 

"Then, Madam, I own, " said she, "I have been too faulty. "--"Ashow?--As what?--In what way?--How faulty?"--asked I, as quick asthought: "you are not ruined, are you?--Tell me, Polly!"--"No, Madam, but--"--"But what?--Say, but what?"--"I had consented--"--"Towhat?"--"To his proposals, Madam. "--"What proposals?"--"Why, Madam, Iwas to live with Mr. H. "

"I understand you too well--But is it too late to break so wretched abargain;--have you already made a sacrifice of your honour?"

"No, Madam: but I have given it under my hand. "

"Under your _hand!_--Ah! Polly, it is well if you have not givenit under your _heart_ too. But what foolishness is this!--Whatconsideration has he made you?"--"He has given it under his hand, thathe will always love me; and when his lordship's father dies, he willown me. "

"What foolishness is this on both sides!--But are you willing to bereleased from this bargain?"

"Indeed I am. Madam, and I told him so yesterday. But he says he willsue me, and ruin me, if I don't stand to it. "

"You are ruined if you do!--And I wish--But tell me, Polly, are younot ruined as it is?"

"Indeed I am not, Madam. "

"I doubt, then, you were upon the brink of it, had not thisprovidential indisposition kept me at home. --You met, I suppose, toconclude your shocking bargain. --O poor unhappy girl!--But let me seewhat he has given under his hand!"

"He has 'em both, Madam, to be drawn up fair, and in a strong hand, that shall be like a record. "

Could I have thought, Miss, that a girl of nineteen could be soignorant in a point so important, when in every thing else she hasshewn no instances like this stupid folly?

"Has he given you money?"

"Yes, Madam, he gave me--he gave me--a note. Here it is. He says anybody will give me money for it. " And this was a bank note of fiftypounds, which she pulled out of her stays. 

The result was, he was to settle one hundred pounds a year upon herand hers, poor, poor girl--and was to _own_ her, as he calls it (butas wife or mistress, she stipulated not), when his father died, and hecame into the title and estate. 

I told her, it was impossible for me to conceal the matter from LadyDavers, if she would not, by her promises to be governed entirely byme, and to abandon all thoughts of Mr. H. , give me room to conclude, that the wicked bargain was at an end. 

And to keep the poor creature in some spirits, and to enable her tolook up, and to be more easy under my direction, I blamed _him_ morethan I did _her_: though, considering what virtue requires of awoman, and custom has made shameless in a man, I think the poor girlinexcusable, and shall not be easy while she is about me. For she ismore to blame, because, of the two, she has more wit than the man. 

"But what can I do?" thought I. "If I put her away, 'twill be to throwher directly into his hands. He won't stay here long: and she _may_see her folly. But yet her eyes were open; she knew what she had totrust to--and by their wicked beginning, and her encouraging repulses, I doubt she would have been utterly ruined that very day. "

I knew the rage Lady Davers would be in with both. So this was anotherembarrassment. Yet should my good intentions fail, and they concludetheir vile bargain, and it appeared that I knew of it, but would notacquaint her, then should I have been more blamed than any mistress ofa family, circumstanced as I am. Upon the whole, I resolved to comfortthe girl as well as I could, till I had gained her confidence, that myadvice might have the more weight, and, by degrees, be more likely toreclaim her: for, poor soul! there would be an end of her reputation, the most precious of all jewels, the moment the matter was known; andthat would be a sad thing. 

As for the man, I thought it best to take courage (and you, that knowme, will say, I must have a good deal more than usual) to talk toMr. H. On this subject. And she consenting I should, and, with greatprotestations, declaring her sorrow and repentance, begging to get hernote of hand again, and to give him back his note of fifty pounds, Iwent down to find him. 

He shunned me, as a thief would a constable at the head of ahue-and-cry. As I entered one room, he went into another, looking withconscious guilt, yet confidently humming a tune. At last I fixed him, bidding Rachel tell Polly be wanted to send a message by her to herlady. By which I doubted not he was desirous to know what she hadowned, 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 speakto--I would have spoken with--"

"You wanted to send Polly to me, perhaps, Mr. H. , to ask if I wouldtake a little walk with you in the garden. "

"Very true, Madam!--Very true indeed!--You have guessed the matter. Ithought it was pity, this fine day, as every body was taking airing--"

"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'tyou catch cold?"--"No, never fear, Mr. H. , I am not afraid of a littleair. "

"I will attend you presently, Madam: you'll be in the great gravelwalk, 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 like to haveslipt. --For, thought I, thou shalt not see the girl till I have talkedto thee a little, if thou dost then. --"Excuse me, Mr. H. --I hope Ihave not hurt my foot--I must lean upon you. "

"Will you be pleased, Madam, to have a chair? I fear you have sprainedyour 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. Butnever did any thing look so like a _foolish fellow_, as his auntcalls him. He looked, if possible, half a dozen ways at once, hemm'd, coughed, turned his head behind him every now and then, started half adozen silly subjects, in hopes to hinder me from speaking. 

I appeared, I believe, under some concern how to begin with him; forhe would have it I was not very well, and begged he might step in oneminute 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, askedhim to sit down. He declined, and would wait upon me presently, hesaid, and seemed to be going. So I began--"It is easy for me, Mr. H. , 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 mischiefmay ensue among friends and relations, on an occasion to which you areno stranger. "

"O, Madam, what can you mean? Surely, Madam, you don't think amiss ofa little innocent liberty, or so!"

"Mr. H. , " replied I, "I want not any evidence of your inhospitabledesigns upon a poor unwary young creature, whom your birth and qualityhave found it too easy a task to influence. "

"_Inhospitable designs_! Madam!--A harsh word! You very nice ladiescannot admit of the least freedom in the world!--Why, Madam, I havekiss'd a lady's woman before now, in a civil way or so, and never wascalled to an account for it, as a breach of hospitality. "

"Tis not for me, Mr. H. , to proceed to _very nice _particulars with agentleman who can act as you have done, by a poor girl, that darenot have looked up to a man of your quality, had you not levelled alldistinction between you in order to level the weak creature to thecommon dirt of the highway. I must say, that the poor girl heartilyrepents of her folly; and, to shew you, that it signifies nothing todeny it, she begs you will return the note of her hand you extortedfrom her foolishness; and I hope you'll be so much of a gentleman, asnot to keep in your power such a testimony of the weakness of any ofthe sex. "

"Has she told you that, Madam?--Why, may be--indeed--I can't butsay--Truly, it mayn't look so well to you, Madam: but young folks willhave frolics. It was nothing but a frolic. Let me _be hanged_, if itwas!"

"Be pleased then, Sir, to give up her note to me, to return to her. Reputation should not be frolicked with, Sir; especially that of apoor girl, who has nothing else to depend upon. "

"I'll give it her myself, if you please, Madam, and laugh at her intothe bargain. Why, 'tis comical enough, if the little pug thought I wasearnest, I must have a laugh or two at her, Madam, when I give it herup. "

"Since, 'tis but a frolic, Mr. H. , you won't take it amiss, that whenwe are set down to supper, we call Polly in, and demand a sight of hernote, and that will make every one merry as well as you. "

"Not so, Madam, that mayn't be so well neither! For, perhaps, theywill be apt to think it is in earnest; when, as I hope to live, 'tisbut a jest: nothing in the world else, upon honour!"

I put on then a still more serious air--"As you _hope to live_, sayyou, Mr. H. !--and _upon your honour!_ How! fear you not an instantpunishment 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!--Iam sorry to be obliged to deal thus with you. But I thought I wastalking to a gentleman who would not forfeit his veracity; and that inso solemn an instance as this!"

He looked like a man thunderstruck. His face was distorted, and hishead seemed to turn about upon his neck, like a weather-cock in ahurricane, to all points of the compass; his hands clenched as ina passion, and yet shame and confusion struggling in every limb andfeature. At last he said, "I am confoundedly betrayed. But if I amexposed to my uncle and aunt" (for the wretch thought of nobody buthimself), "I am undone, and shall never be able to look them in theface. 'Tis true, I had a design upon her; and since she has betrayedme, I think I may say, that she was as willing, almost, as I. "

"Ungenerous, contemptible wretch!" thought I--"But such of our sex ascan thus give up their virtue, ought to expect no better: for hethat sticks not at _one_ bad action, will not scruple at _another_ tovindicate himself: and so, devil-like, become the attempter and theaccuser too!"

"But if you will be so good, " said he, with hands uplifted, "as totake no notice of this to my uncle, 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 asyou _hope to live?_"

"Dear, good Madam, forgive me, I beseech you; don't be so severe uponme. By all that's--"

"Don't swear, Mr. H. But as an earnest that I may believe you, giveme back the girl's foolish note, that, though 'tis of no significance, she may not have _that_ to witness her folly. "--He took out hispocket-book: "There it is, Madam! And I beg you'll forgive thisattempt: I see I ought not to have made it. I doubt it was a breach ofthe laws of hospitality, as you say. But to make it known, will onlyexpose me, and it can do no good; and Mr. B. Will perhaps resentit; and my aunt will never let me hear the last of it, nor my uncleneither--And I shall be sent to travel again--And" (added the poorcreature) "I was once in a storm, and the crossing the sea again wouldbe death to me. "

"What a wretch art thou!" thought I. "What could such an one as thoufind to say, to a poor creature that, if put in the scale againstconsiderations of virtue, should make the latter kick the [Transcriber'snote: illegible] "Poor, poor Tony Barrow! thou art sunk indeed! Too lowfor excuse, and almost beneath pity!"

I told him, if I could observe that nothing passed between them, thatshould lay me under a necessity of revealing the matter, I should notbe forward to expose him, nor the maiden either: but that he must, inhis own judgment, excuse me, if I made every body acquainted with it, if I were to see the correspondence between them likely to be renewedor carried on: "For, " added I, "in that case I should owe it tomyself, to Mr. B. , to Lord and Lady Davers, and to you, and theunhappy body too, to do so. "

He would needs drop down on one knee, to promise this; and with athousand acknowledgments, left me to find Mr. Colbrand, in order toride to meet the coach on its return. I went in, and gave the foolishnote to the silly girl, which she received eagerly, and immediatelyburnt; and I told her, I would not suffer her to come near me butas little as possible, when I was in company while Mr. H. Staid; butconsigned her entirely to the care of Mrs. Jervis, to whom only, Isaid, I would hint the matter as tenderly as I could: and for this, Iadded, I had more reasons than one; first, to give her the benefitof a good gentlewoman's advice, to which I had myself formerly beenbeholden, and from whom I concealed nothing; next, to keep out ofMr. 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 ourfamily is, and so good as I thought all the people about me were, that I could not suspect, that she, the duties of whose place made hernearest to my person, was the farthest from what I wished. "

I have set this matter so strongly before her, and Mrs. Jervis hasso well seconded me, that I hope the best; for the grief the poorcreature carries in her looks, and expresses in her words, cannot bedescribed; frequently accusing herself, with tears, saying oftento Mrs. Jervis, she is not worthy to stand in the presence of hermistress, whose example she has made so bad an use of, and whoselessons she had so ill followed. 

I am sadly troubled at this matter, however; but I take great comfortin reflecting that my sudden indisposition looked like a providentialthing, which may save one poor soul, and be a seasonable warning toher, as long as she lives. 

Meantime I must observe, that at supper last night, Mr. H. Lookedabject and mean, and like a poor thief, as I thought, and conscious ofhis disappointed folly (though I seldom glanced my eye upon him), hadless to say for himself than ever. 

And once my Lady Davers, laughing, said, "I think in my heart, mynephew looks more foolish every time I see him, than the last. " Hestole a look at me, and blushed; and my lord said, "Jackey has somegrace! He blushes! Hold up thy head, nephew! Hast thou nothing at allto say for thyself?"

Sir Jacob said, "A blush becomes a young gentleman! I never saw onebefore though, in Mr. H. --What's the matter, Sir?"--"Only, " said LadyDavers, "his skin or his conscience is mended, that's all. "

"Thank you, Madam, " was all he said, bowing to his aunt, and affectinga 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, anderect!"--But yet it was not the shame of a bad action, I doubt, butbeing discovered and disappointed, that gave him his confusion offace. 

What a sad thing for a person to be guilty of such actions, as shallput it in the power of another, even by a look, to mortify him! Andif poor souls can be thus abjectly struck at such a discovery bya fellow-creature, how must they appear before an unerring andomniscient Judge, with a conscience standing in the place of athousand witnesses? and calling in vain upon the _mountains to fallupon them_, and the _hills to cover them!_--How serious this subjectmakes one!

SATURDAY EVENING. 

I am just retired from a fatiguing service; for who should come todine with Mr. B. But that sad rake Sir Charles Hargrave; and Mr. Walgrave, Mr. Sedley, and Mr. Floyd, three as bad as himself;inseparable companions, whose whole delight is drinking, hunting, andlewdness; but otherwise gentlemen of wit and large estates. Three ofthem 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 thisvisit, in order to see me, as they told Mr. B. 

They whipt out two bottles of champagne instantly, for a _whet_, asthey called it; and went to view the stud and the kennel, and thenwalked in 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, helonged to see Mrs. B. She was the talk wherever he went, and he hadconceived a high opinion of her beforehand. 

Lord Davers said, "I defy you, gentlemen, to think so highly of her asshe deserves, take mind and person together. "

Mr. Floyd said, he never saw any woman yet, who came up to what heexpected, 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 heard that you would never own her. "

"Oons man!" said Sir Jacob, "I was taken in. --They contrived to clapher upon me as Lady Jenny C. And pretended they'd keep t'other out ofmy sight; and I was plaguily bit, and forced to get on as well as Icould. "

"That was a bite indeed, " said Mr. Walgrave; "and so you fell apraising Lady Jenny, I warrant, to the skies. "

"Ye--s" (drawling out the affirmative monosyllable), "I was used mostscurvily: 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 mansince--but am forced to go and come, and to do as they bid me. By mytroth, I never was so manageable in my life. "

"Your Herefordshire neighbours, Sir Jacob, " said Mr. Sedley, with anoath, "will rejoice to hear this; for the whole county there cannotmanage you. "

"I am quite cow'd now, as you will see by-and-by; nay, for thatmatter, if you can set Mrs. B. A talking, not one of you all will careto open your lips, except to say as she says. "

"Never fear, old boy, " said Sir Charles, "we'll bear our parts inconversation. I never saw the woman yet, who could give me either aweor love for six minutes together. What think you, Mr. B. ? Have you anynotion, that your lady will have so much power over us?"

"I think, Sir Charles, I have one of the finest women in England; butI neither expect nor desire you rakes should see her with my eyes. "

"You know, if I have a mind to love her, and make court to her too, Mr. B. , I will: and I am half in love with her already, although Ihave not seen her. "

They came in when dinner was near ready, and the four gentlemen tookeach a large bumper of old hock for another whet. 

The countess, Lady Davers, and I came down together. The gentlemenknew our two noble ladies, and were known to them in person, as wellas by character. Mr. B. , in his usual kind and encouraging manner, took my hand, and presented the four gentlemen to me, each by hisname. Sir Charles said, pretty bluntly, that he hoped he was morewelcome to me now, than the last time he was under the same roof withme; for he had been told since, that _that_ was our happy day. 

I said, Mr. B. 's friends were always welcome to me. 

"Tis well, Madam, " said Mr. Sedley, "we did not know how it was. Weshould have quartered ourselves upon Mr. B. For a week together, andkept him up day and night. "

I thought this speech deserved no answer, especially as they weregentlemen who wanted no countenance, and addressed myself to LordDavers, who is always kindly making court to me: "I hope, my goodlord, you find yourself quite recovered of your head-ache?" (of whichhe complained at breakfast). 

"I thank you, my dear sister, pretty well. "

"I was telling Sir Charles and the other gentlemen, niece, " said SirJacob, "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 aprepossession in my favour under so advantageous a character, that Icould never have expected otherwise. "

"I wish, " said the countess, "my daughter, for whom Sir Jacob tookyou, had Mrs. B. 's qualities to boast of. "--"How am I obliged to yourladyship's goodness, " returned I, "when you treat me with even greaterindulgence than you use to so beloved a daughter!"

"Nay, now you talk of treating, " said Sir Charles, "when, ladies, willyou 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. 

"Well then, Mrs. B. , " said Sir Charles, "we bespeak your good opinionof _us_; for you have _ours_. "

"I am obliged to you, gentlemen; but I must be more cautious indeclaring _mine_, lest it should be thought I am influenced by yourkind, and perhaps too hasty, opinions of me. "

Sir Charles swore they had _seen_ enough of me the moment I enteredthe parlour, and heard enough the moment I opened my lips to answerfor _their_ opinions of me. 

I said, I made no doubt, when _they_ had as good a subject toexpatiate upon, as I had, in the pleasure before me, of seeing somany agreeable friends of Mr. B. 's, they would maintain the title theyclaimed of every one's good opinion. 

"This, " said Sir Jacob, "is binding you over, gentlemen, to your goodbehaviour. You must know, my niece never shoots flying, as _you_ do. "

The gentlemen laughed: "Is it shooting flying, Sir Jacob, " returnedSir Charles, "to praise that lady?"

"Ads-bud, I did not think of that. "

"Sir Jacob, " said the countess, "you need not be at a fault;--for agood sportsman always hits his mark, flying or not; and the gentlemenhad so fair an one, that they could not well miss it. "

"You are fairly helped over the stile, Sir Jacob, " said Mr. Floyd. 

"And, indeed, I wanted it; though I limped like a puppy before I waslame. One can't think of every thing as one used to do at your timeof life, gentlemen. " This flippant stuff was all that passed, which I_can_ recite; for the rest, at table, and after dinner, was too politeby half for me; such as, the quantity of wine each man could_carry off_ (that was the phrase), dogs, horses, hunting, racing, cock-fighting, and all accompanied with swearing and cursing, and thatin good humour, and out of wantonness (the least excusable and moreprofligate sort of swearing and cursing of all). 

The gentlemen liked the wine so well, that we had the felicity todrink tea and coffee by ourselves; only Mr. B. (upon our inviting thegentlemen to partake with us) sliding in for a few minutes to tell us, they would stick by what they had, and taking a dish of coffee withus. 

I should not omit one observation; that Sir Jacob, when they weregone, said they were _pure company_; and Mr. H. That he never wasso delighted in his _born days_. --While the two ladies put up theirprayers, that they might never have such another entertainment. Andbeing encouraged by their declaration, I presumed to join in the samepetition. 

Yet it seems, these are men of wit! I believe they must be so--for Icould neither like nor understand them. Yet, if their conversation hadmuch wit, I should think my ladies would have found it out. 

The gentlemen, permit me to add, went away very merry, to ride tenmiles by owl-light; for they would not accept of beds here. They hadtwo French horns with them, and gave us a flourish or two at goingoff. Each had a servant besides: but the way they were in would havegiven me more concern than it did, had they been related to Mr. B. Andless used to it. And, indeed, it is a happiness, that such gentlementake no more care than they generally do, to interest any bodyintimately in their healths and preservation; for these are all singlemen. Nor need the public, any more than the private, be much concernedabout them; for let such persons go when they will, if they continuesingle, their next heir cannot well be a worse commonwealth's man; andthere is a great chance he may be better. 

You know I end my Saturdays seriously. And this, to what I havealready said, makes me add, that I cannot express how much I am, mydear Miss Darnford, _your faithful and affectionate_ PB

LETTER XXXVIII

_From Mrs. B. To Miss Darnford. In Answer to Letters XXXV and XXXVI. _

MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, I skip over the little transactions of several days, to let you knowhow much you rejoice me, in telling me Sir Simon has been so kind asto comply with my wishes. Both your most agreeable letters came to myhand together, and I thank you a hundred times for them; and I thankyour dear mamma, and Sir Simon too, for the pleasure they have givenme in this obliging permission. How happy shall we be!--But how longwill you be permitted to stay, though? All the winter, I hope:--andthen, when that is over, let us set out together, if God shall spareus, directly for Lincolnshire; and to pass most of the summer likewisein each other's company. What a sweet thought is this!--Let me indulgeit a little while. 

Mr. B. Read your letters, and says, you are a charming young lady, and surpass yourself in every letter. I told him, that he was moreinterested in the pleasure I took in this favour of Sir Simon's thanhe imagined. "As how, my dear?" said he. "A plain case, Sir, " repliedI: "for endeavouring to improve myself by Miss Darnford's conversationand behaviour, I shall every day be more worthy of your favour. " Hekindly would have it, that nobody, no, not Miss Darnford herself, excelled me. 

'Tis right, you know, Miss, that Mr. B. Should think so, though I mustknow nothing at all, if I was not sensible how inferior I am to mydear Miss Darnford: and yet, when I look abroad now-and-then, I couldbe a proud slut, if I would, and not yield the palm to many others. 

Well, my dear Miss, SUNDAY

Is past and gone, as happy as the last; the two ladies, and, at_their_ earnest request, Sir Jacob bearing us company, in the eveningpart. My Polly was there morning and evening, with her heart brokenalmost, poor girl!--I put her in a corner of my closet, that herconcern should not be minded. Mrs. Jervis gives me great hopes of her. 

Sir Jacob was much pleased with our family order, and said, 'twas nowonder I _kept_ so good myself, and made others so: and he thoughtthe four rakes (for he run on how much they admired me) would beconverted, if they saw how well I passed my time, and how cheerful andeasy every one, as well as myself was under it! He said, when he camehome, he must take such a method himself in _his_ family; for, hebelieved, it would make not only better masters and mistresses, butbetter children, and better servants too. But, poor gentleman! he has, I doubt, a great deal to mend in _himself_, before he can begin such apractice with efficacy in his _family_. 

MONDAY. 

In the afternoon. Sir Jacob took his leave of us, highly satisfiedwith us both, and _particularly_ (so he said) with me; and promisedthat my two cousins, as he called his daughters, and his sister, anold maiden lady, if they went to town this winter, should visit me, and be improved by me; that was his word. Mr. B. Accompanied him somemiles on his journey, and the two ladies, and Lord Davers, and I, tookan airing in the coach. 

Mr. B. Was so kind as to tell me, when he came home, with a whisper, that Miss Goodwin presented her duty to me. 

I have got a multitude of fine things for the dear little creature, and Mr. B. Promises to give me a dairy-house breakfast, when ourguests are gone. 

I enclose the history of this little charmer, by Mr. B. 's consent, since you are to do us the honour, as he (as well as I) pleaseshimself, to be one of our family--but keep it to yourself, whateveryou do. I am guarantee that you will; and have put it in a separatepaper, that you may burn it when read. For I may want your adviceon this subject, having a great desire to get this child in mypossession; and yet Lady Davers has given a hint, that dwells a littlewith me. When I have the pleasure I hope for, I will lay all beforeyou, and be determined, and proceed, as far as I have power, by you. You, my good father and mother, have seen the story in my formerpapers. 

TUESDAY. 

You must know, I pass over the days thus swiftly, not that I couldnot fill them up with writing, as amply as I have done the former;but intending only to give you a general idea of our way of life andconversation; and having gone through a whole week and more, you willbe able, from what I have recited, to form a judgment how it is withus, one day with another. As for example, now and then neighbourlyvisits received and paid--Needlework between whiles--Music--Cardssometimes, though I don't love them--One more benevolentround--Improving conversations with my dear Mr. B. And my two goodladies--A lesson from him, when alone, either in French or Latin--Anew pauper case or two--A visit from the good dean--Mr. Williams'sdeparture, in order to put the new projected alteration in force, which is to deprive me of my chaplain--(By the way, the dean is highlypleased with this affair, and the motives to it, Mr. Adams being afavourite of his, and a distant relation of his lady)--Mr. H. 's andPolly's mutual endeavour to avoid one another--My lessons to the poorgirl, and cautions, as if she were my sister--

These, my dear Miss Darnford, and my honoured parents, are thepleasant employments of our time; so far as we females are concerned:for the gentlemen hunt, ride out, and divert themselves in their way, and bring us home the news and occurrences they meet with abroad, andnow-and-then a straggling gentleman they pick up in their diversions. And so I shall not enlarge upon these articles, after the tediousspecimens I have already given. 

WEDNESDAY, THURSDAY. 

Could you ever have thought, my dear, that husbands have a dispensingpower over their wives, which kings are not allowed over the laws?I have had a smart debate with Mr. B. , and I fear it will not be theonly one upon this subject. Can you believe, that if a wife thinksa thing her duty to do, which her husband does not approve, he candispense with her performing it, and no sin shall lie at her door? Mr. B. Maintains this point. I have great doubts about it; particularlyone; that if a matter be my duty, and he dispenses with my performanceof it, whether, even although that were to clear _me_ of the sin, it will not fall upon _himself_? And a good wife would be as muchconcerned at this, as if it was to remain upon _her_. Yet he seems setupon it. What can one do?--Did you ever hear of such a notion, before?Of such a prerogative in a husband? Would you care to subscribe to it?

He says, the ladies are of his opinion. I'm afraid they are, and sowill not ask them. But, perhaps, I mayn't live, and other things mayhappen; and so I'll say no more of it at present. 

FRIDAY. 

Mr. H. And my Lord and Lady Davers and the excellent Countess of C. Having left us this day, to our mutual regret, the former put thefollowing letter into my hands, with an air of respect and evenreverence. He says, he spells most lamentably; and this obliges me togive it you _literally_:

"DEARE GOOD MADAM, "I cannott contente myself with common thankes, on leaving youres, andMr. B. 's hospitabel house, because of _thatt there_ affaire, which Ineede not mention! and truly am _ashamed_ to mention, as I _have been_to looke you in the face ever since it happen'd. I don't knowe _howitt came aboute_, butt I thought butt att first of _joking_ a littel, _or soe_; and seeing Polley heard me with more attentiveness than Iexpected, I was encouraged to proceede; and _soe_, now I recollecte, itt _camn aboute_. 

"But she is innosente for me: and I don't knowe how _thatt_ cameabout neither; for wee were oute one moonelighte nighte in the garden, walking aboute, and afterwards tooke a _napp_ of two houres, as Ibeliefe, in the summer-house in the littel gardin, being over-poweredwith sleepe; for I woulde make her lay her head uppon my breste, tillbefore we were awar, wee felle asleepe. Butt before thatt, wee hadagreed on whatt you discovered. 

"This is the whole truthe, and all the intimasies we ever hadde, to_speake off_. 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 three times_; for having made a contract, you knowe. Madam, itwas naturall enough to take the first occasion to putt itt in force. 

"Poor Polley! I pity her too. Don't thinke the worse of her, deareMadam, so as to turn her away, because it may bee her ruin. I don'tdesire too see her. I might have been _drawne_ _in_ to do strangefoolish things, and been ruin'd at the long run; for who knows wherethis thing mought have ended? My _unkell_ woulde have never seeneme. My _father_ too (his lordshipp, you have hearde, Madam, is a very_crosse man_, and never loved _me much_) mought have cutt off theintaile. My _aunte_ would have dispis'd mee and scorn'd mee. I shouldhave been her foolishe fellowe in _earneste_, nott in _jeste_, asnow. You woulde have resented itt, and Mr. B. (who knows?) mought havecalled me to account. 

"Butt cann you forgive me? You see how happy I am in mydisappointment. I did nott think too write so much;--for I don't loveit: but on this occasion, know not how too leave off. I hope youcan read my letter. I know I write a _clumsy_ hand, and _spelle mostlamentabelly_; for I never had a tallent for these things. I wasreadier by half to admire the _orcherd robbing picture _in Lillie'sgrammar, then any other part of the book. 

"But, hey, whether am I running! I never writt to you before, andnever may again, unless you, or Mr. B. Command it, for your service. So pray excuse me, Madam. 

"I knowe I neede give no advice to Polley, to take care of _first_encouragements. Poor girl! she mought have suffer'd sadly, as welleas I. For iff my father, and my unkell and aunte, had requir'd meeto turne her off, you know itt woulde have been undutifull to haverefused them, notwithstanding our bargaine. And want of duty tothem woulde have been to have added faulte too faulte: as you onceobserved, I remember, that one faulte never comes alone, but drawesafter itt generally five or six, to hide or vindicate itt, and _they_every one perhapps as many more _eache_. 

"I shall never forgett severall of youre wise sayinges. I have beenvex'd, may I be _hang'd_ if I have not, many a time, thatt I couldenot make such observations as you make; who am so much _older_ too, and a _man_ besides, and a _peere's son_, and a _peere's nephew!_ butmy tallents lie _another way_; and by that time my father dies, I hopeto improve myselfe, in order to _cutt_ such a figure, as may make mebe no disgrase to my _name_ or _countrey_. 

"Well, but whatt is all this to the purpose?--I will keep close tomy text; and that is, to thank you, good Madam, for all the favours Ihave received in your house; to thank you for disappointing mee, andfor convincing mee, in so _kinde_, yet so _shameing_ a manner, howwrong I was in the matter of _that there_ Polley; and for not exposingmy folly to any boddy but _myselfe_ (for I should have been readyto _hang_ myselfe, if you hadd); and to beg youre pardon for itt, assuring you, that I will never offerr the like as long as I breathe. I am, Madam, with the greatest respecte, _youre most obliged, mostefaithful, and most obedient humbell servante_, J. H. 

"Pray excuse blotts and blurs. "

Well, Miss Darnford, what shall we say to this fine letter?--You'llallow it to be an original, I hope. Yet, may-be not. For it may beas well written, and as sensible a letter as this class of peoplegenerally write!

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 his own word, a considerable figure in a country town. --Butsee--Yet I will not say what I might--He is Lord Davers's nephew; andif he makes his _observations_, and _forbears_ his _speeches_ (I mean, can be silent, and only laugh when he sees somebody of more senselaugh, and never _approve_ or _condemn_ but in _leading-strings_), he may possibly pass in a crowd of gentlemen. But poor, poor PollyBarlow! What _can_ I say for Polly Barlow?

I have a time in view, when my papers may fall under the inspectionof a dear gentleman, to whom, next to God, I am accountable for all myactions and correspondences; so I will either write an account ofthe matter, and seal it up separately, for Mr. B. , or, at a fitopportunity, break it to him, and let him know (under secrecy, ifhe will promise it) the steps I took in it; lest something arisehereafter, when I cannot answer for myself, to render any thing darkor questionable in it. A method, I believe, very proper to be taken byevery married lady; and I presume the rather to say so, having had agood example for it: for I have often thought of a little sealed upparcel of papers, my lady made me burn in her presence, about a monthbefore she died. "They are, Pamela, " said she, "such as would notconcern me, let who will see them, could they know the springs andcauses of them; but, for want of a clue, my son might be at a losswhat to think of several of those letters were he to find them, inlooking over my other papers, when I am no more. "

Let me add, that nothing could be more endearing than our parting withour noble guests. My lady repeated her commands for what she oftenengaged me to promise, that is to say, to renew the correspondencebegun between us, so much (as she was pleased to say) to hersatisfaction. 

I could not help shewing her ladyship, who was always enquiring aftermy writing employment, most of what passed between you and me: sheadmires you much, and wished Mr. H. Had more wit, that was her word:she should in that case, she said, be very glad to set on foot atreaty between you and him. 

But that, I fancy, can never be tolerable to you; and I only mentionit _en passant_. --There's a French woman for you!

The countess was full of her kind wishes for my happiness; and my LadyDavers told me, that if I could give her timely notice, she would bepresent on a _certain_ occasion. 

But, my dear Miss, what could I say?--I know nothing of thematter!--Only, I am a sad coward, and have a thousand anxieties whichI cannot mention to any body. 

But, if I have such in the honourable estate of matrimony, what mustthose poor souls have, who are seduced, and have all manner of reasonto apprehend, that the crime shall be followed by a punishment so_natural_ to it? A punishment _in kind_, as I may say; which if itonly ends in forfeiture of life, following the forfeiture of fame, must be thought merciful and happy beyond expectation: for how shallthey lay claim to the hope given to persons in their circumstancesthat _they shall be saved in child-bearing_, since the conditionis, _if they _CONTINUE _in faith and charity, and _HOLINESS _with_SOBRIETY. 

Now, my honoured mother, and my dear Miss Darnford since I am uponthis affecting subject, does not this text seem to give a comfortablehope to a good woman, who shall thus die, of being happy in the Divinemercies? For the Apostle, in the context, says, that _he suffers nota woman to teach, nor usurp authority over the man, but to be insilence_. --And what is the reason he gives? Why, a reason that is anatural consequence of the curse on the first disobedience, that sheshall be in subjection to her husband. "For, " says he, "_Adam was_ NOT_deceived; but the woman, being deceived, was in the transgression. _"As much as to say--Had it not been for the woman, Adam had kept hisintegrity, and therefore her punishment shall be, as it is said, "_Iwill greatly multiply thy sorrow in thy conception: in sorrow shallthou bring forth children--and thy husband shall rule over thee_. " Butnevertheless, if thou shalt not survive the sharpness of thy sorrow, thy death shall be deemed to be such an alleviation of thy part ofthe entailed transgression, that thou shalt _be saved_, if thou hastCONTINUED in faith and charity, and HOLINESS with SOBRIETY. 

This, my honoured parents, and my dear friend, is _my_ paraphrase; andI reap no small comfort from it, when I meditate upon it. 

But I shall make you as serious as myself; and, my dear friend, perhaps, frighten you from entering into a state, in which our poorsex suffer so much, from the bridal morning, let it rise as gailyas it will upon a thoughtful mind, to that affecting circumstance, (throughout its whole progression), for which nothing but a tender, agenerous, and a worthy husband can make them any part of amends. 

But a word or two more, as to the parting with our honoured company. I was a little indisposed, and they all would excuse me, against mywill, from attending them in the coach some miles, which their dearbrother did. Both ladies most tenderly saluted me, twice or thricea-piece, folding their kind arms about me, and wishing my safety andhealth, and charging me to _think_ little, and _hope_ much; for theysaw me thoughtful at times, though I endeavoured to hide it from them. 

My Lord Davers said, with a goodness of temper that is peculiar tohim, "My dearest sister, --May God preserve you, and multiply yourcomforts! I shall pray for you more than ever I did for myself, thoughI have so much more need of it:--I _must_ leave you--But I leave onewhom I love and honour next to Lady Davers, and ever shall. "

Mr. H. Looked consciously silly. "I can say nothing, Madam, but"(saluting me) "that I shall never forget your goodness to me. "

I had before, in Mrs. Jervis's parlour, taken leave of Mrs. Wordenand Mrs. Lesley, my ladies' women: they each stole a hand of mine, andkissed it, begging pardon for the freedom. But I answered, takingeach by her hand, and kissing her, "I shall always think of you withpleasure, my good friends; for you have encouraged me constantly byyour presence in my private duties; and may God bless you, and theworthy families you so laudably serve, as well for your sakes, astheir own!"

They turned away with tears; and Mrs. Worden would have said somethingto me, but could not. --Only both taking Mrs. Jervis by the hand, "Happy Mrs. Jervis!" said they, almost in a breath. "And happy I too, "repeated I, "in my Mrs. Jervis, and in such kind well-wishers asMrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley. Wear this, Mrs. Worden;--wear this, Mrs. Lesley, for my sake:" and to each I gave a ring, with a crystal andbrilliants set about it, which Mr. B. Had bought a week before forthis purpose: he has a great opinion of both the good folks, and oftenpraised their prudence, and quiet and respectful behaviour to everybody, so different from the impertinence (that was his word) of mostladies' women who are favourites. 

Mrs. Jervis said, "I have enjoyed many happy hours in yourconversation, Mrs. Worden and Mrs. Lesley: I shall miss you verymuch. "

"I must endeavour, " said I, taking her hand, "to make it up to you, my good friend, as well as I can. And of late we have not had so manyopportunities together as I should have wished, had I not been soagreeably engaged as you know. So we must each try to comfortthe other, when we have lost, I such noble, and you such worthycompanions. "

Mrs. Jervis's honest heart, before touched by the parting, sheweditself at her eyes. "Wonder not, " said I, to the two gentlewomen, wiping with my handkerchief her venerable cheeks, "that I alwaysthus endeavour to dry up all my good Mrs. Jervis's tears;" and thenI kissed her, thinking of you, my dear mother; and I was forced towithdraw a little abruptly, lest I should be too much moved myself;for had our departing company enquired into the occasion, they wouldperhaps have thought it derogatory (though I should not) to my presentstation, and too much retrospecting to my former. 

I could not, in conversation between Mr. B. And myself, when I wasgratefully expatiating upon the amiable characters of our nobleguests, and of their behaviour and kindness to me, help observing, that I had little expected, from some hints which formerly dropt fromMr. B. , to find my good Lord Davers so polite and so sensible a man. 

"He is a very good-natured man, " replied Mr. B. "I believe I mightonce or twice drop some disrespectful words of him. But it was theeffect of passion at the time, and with a view to two or three pointsof his conduct in public life; for which I took the liberty to findfault with him, and received very unsatisfactory excuses. One ofthese, I remember, was in a conference between a committee of eachhouse of parliament, in which he behaved in a way I could not wishfrom a man so nearly allied to me by marriage; for all he could talkof, was the dignity of their house, when the reason of the thing wasstrong with the other; and it fell to my lot to answer what he said;which I did with some asperity; and this occasioned a coolness betweenus for some time. 

"But no man makes a better figure in private life than Lord Davers;especially now that my sister's good sense has got the better of herpassions, and she can behave with tolerable decency towards him. Foronce, Pamela, it was not so: the violence of her spirit making himappear in a light too little advantageous either to his quality ormerit. But now he improves upon me every time I see him. 

"You know not, my dear, what a disgrace a haughty and passionate womanbrings upon her husband, and upon herself too, in the eyes of her ownsex, as well as ours. Nay, even those ladies, who would be as glad ofdominion as she, if they might be permitted to exercise it, despiseothers who do, and the man _most_ who suffers it. 

"And let me tell you, " said the dear man, with an air that shewedhe was satisfied with his own conduct in this particular, "that youcannot imagine how much a woman owes to her husband, as well withregard to _her own _peace of mind, as to _both_ their reputations(however it may go against the grain with her sometimes), if he bea man who has discretion to keep her encroaching passions under agenteel and reasonable control!"

How do you like this doctrine, Miss?--I'll warrant, you believe, that I could do no less than drop Mr. B. One of my best curt'sies, in acknowledgment of my obligation to him, for so consideratelypreserving to me _my_ peace of mind, and _my_ reputation, as well as_his own_, in this case. 

But after all, when one duly weighs the matter, what he says may beright in the main; for I have not been able to contradict him, partialas I am to my sex, when he has pointed out to me instances in thebehaviour of certain ladies, who, like children, the more they havebeen humoured, the more humoursome they have grown; which must haveoccasioned as great uneasiness to themselves, as to their husbands. Will you excuse me, my dear? This is between ourselves; for I did notown so much to Mr. B. For one should not give up one's sex, you know, if one can help it: for the men will be as apt to impose, as the womento encroach, I doubt. 

Well, but here, my honest parents, and my dear Miss Darnford, at last, I end my journal-wise letters, as I may call them; our noble guestsbeing gone, and our time and employments rolling on in much the samemanner, as in past days, of which I have given an account. I am, _my dearest father and mother, and best beloved Miss Darnford, yourdutiful and affectionate_

P. B. 

LETTER XXXIX

MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, I hear that Mrs. Jewkes is in no good state of health. I am very sorryfor it. I pray for her life, that she may be a credit (if it pleaseGod) to the penitence she has so lately assumed. 

Do, my dear _good_ Miss, vouchsafe to the poor soul the honour of avisit: she may be low-spirited. --She may be too much sunk with therecollection of past things. Comfort, with that sweetness which is sonatural to Miss Darnford, her drooping heart; and let her know, that Ihave a true concern for her, and give it her in charge to take care ofherself, and spare nothing that will administer either to her healthor peace of mind. 

You'll pardon me that I put you upon an office so unsuitable from alady in your station, to a person in hers; but not to your piety andcharity, where a duty so eminent as that of visiting the sick, andcheering the doubting mind, is in the question. 

I know your condescension will give her great comfort; and if sheshould be hastening to her account, what a pleasure will it givesuch a lady as you, to have illuminated a benighted mind, when it wastottering on the verge of death!

I know she will want no spiritual help from good Mr. Peters; but thenthe kind notice of so generally esteemed a young lady, will raise hermore than can be imagined: for there is a tenderness, a sympathy, inthe good persons of our sex to one another, that (while the best ofthe other seem but to act as in office, saying those things, which, though edifying and convincing, one is not certain proceeds notrather from the fortitude of their minds, than the tenderness of theirnatures) mingles with one's very spirits, thins the animal mass, andruns through one's heart in the same lify current (I can't clothe mythought suitably to express what I would), giving assurance, as wellas pleasure, in the most arduous cases, and brightening our mistyprospects, till we see the Sun of Righteousness rising on the hills ofcomfort, and dispelling the heavy fogs of doubt and diffidence. 

This it is makes me wish and long as I do, for the company of my dearMiss Darnford. O when shall I see you? When shall I?--To speak tomy present case, it is _all I long for_; and, pardon my freedom ofexpression, as well as thought, when I let you know in this instance, how _early_ I experience the _ardent longings_ of one in the way I amin. 

But I ought not to set my heart upon any thing not in my own power, and which may be subject to accidents, and the control of others. Butlet whatever interventions happen, so I have your _will_ to come, Imust be rejoiced in your kind intention, although your _power_ shouldnot prove answerable. 

But I will say no more, than that I am, my honoured father andmother, your ever dutiful daughter; and, my dear Miss Darnford, _youraffectionate and obliged_ P. B. 

LETTER XL

From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B. 

MY DEAR MRS. B. , We are greatly obliged to you for every particular article in yourentertaining journal, which you have brought, sooner than we wished, to a conclusion. We cannot express how much we admire you for yourjudicious charities, so easy to be practised, yet so uncommon in themanner, and for your inimitable conduct in the affair of your frailPolly and the silly Mr. H. 

Your account of the visit of the four rakes; of your parting with yournoble guests; Mr. H. 's letter (an original indeed!) have all greatlyentertained us, as your prerogative hints have amused us: but wedefer our opinion of those hints, till we have the case more fullyexplained. 

But, my dear friend, are you not in danger of falling into a toothoughtful and gloomy way? By the latter part of 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 lessneed of it, because your prudence will always suggest to you reasons, as it does in that very letter, that must out-balance your fears. _Think_ little, and _hope_ much, is a good lesson in your case, andto a lady of your temper; and I hope Lady Davers will not in vain havegiven you that caution. After all, I dare say your thoughtfulness isbut symptomatical, and will go off in proper time. 

But to wave this: let me ask you, is Mr. B. 's conduct to you as_respectful_, I don't mean fond, when you are alone together, as incompany?--Forgive me--But you have hinted two or three times, in yourletters, that he always is most complaisant to you in company; and youobserve, that _wisely_ does he act in this, as he thereby does creditwith every body to his own choice. I make no doubt, that the manycharming scenes which your genius and fine behaviour furnish out tohim, must, as often as they happen, inspire him with joy, and evenrapture: and must make him love you more for your mind than for yourperson:--but these rapturous scenes last very little longer than thepresent 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, he give up any thing of his own will in compliment to yours? Whetherhe acts the part of a respectful, polite gentleman, in his behaviourto you; and breaks not into your retirements, in the dress, and withthe brutal roughness of a fox-hunter?--Making no difference, perhaps, between the field or his stud (I will not say kennel) and your chamberor closet?--Policy, for his own credit-sake, as I mentioned, accountsto me well, for his complaisance to you in public. But his regular anduniform behaviour to you, in your retirement, when the conversationbetween you turns upon usual and common subjects, and you have notobliged him to rise to admiration of you, by such scenes as thoseof your two parsons, Sir Jacob Swynford, and the like: is what wouldsatisfy my curiosity, if you please to give me an instance or two ofit. 

Now, my dearest Mrs. B. , if you can give me a case, partly or nearlythus circumstanced, you will highly oblige me:

First, where he has borne with any infirmity of your own; and I knowof none where you can give him such an opportunity, except you getinto a vapourish habit, by giving way to a temper too thoughtful andapprehensive:

Next, that, in complaisance to _your_ will, he recedes from his _own_in any one instance:

Next, whether he breaks not into your retirements unceremoniously, andwithout apology or concern, as I hinted above. 

You know, my dear Mrs. B. , all I mean, by what I have said. ; and ifyou have any pretty conversation in memory, by the recital of which, this my bold curiosity may be answered, pray oblige me with it; and weshall be able to judge by it, not only of the in-born generosity whichall that know Mr. B. Have been willing to attribute to him, but ofthe likelihood of the continuance of both your felicities, upon termssuitable to the characters of a fine lady and fine gentleman: and, ofconsequence, worthy of the imitation of the most delicate of our ownsex. 

Your obliging _longings_, my beloved dear lady, for my company, Ihope, will very soon be answered. My papa was so pleased with yoursweet earnestness on this occasion, that he joined with my mamma; andboth, with equal cheerfulness, said, you should not be many days inLondon before me. Murray and his mistress go on swimmingly, and havenot yet had one quarrel. The only person, he, of either sex, that everknew Nancy so intimately, and so long, without one!

This is all I have to say, at present, when I have assured you, mydear Mrs. B. , how much I am _your obliged, and affectionate_ POLLYDARNFORD. 

LETTER XLI

My dearest Miss Darnford, I was afraid I ended my last letter in a gloomy way; and I am obligedto you for the kind and friendly notice you take of it. It was owingto a train of thinking which sometimes I get into, of late; I hopeonly symptomatically, as you say, and that the cause and effect willsoon vanish together. 

But what a task, my dear friend, I'll warrant, you think you have setme! I thought, in the progress of my journal, and in my letters, I hadgiven so many instances of Mr. B. 's polite tenderness to me, that nonew ones would be required at my hands; and when I said he was always_most_ complaisant before company, I little expected, that such aninference would be drawn from my words, as would tend to question theuniformity of his behaviour to me, when there were no witnesses to it. But I am glad of an opportunity to clear up all your doubts on thissubject. 

To begin then:

You first desire an instance, where Mr. B. Has borne with someinfirmity 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 fieldor the stud, and my chamber or closet?

As to the first, his bearing with my infirmities; he is daily givinginstances 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 seesmy apprehensiveness, at times, though I endeavour to conceal it; andno husband was ever so soothing and so indulgent as Mr. B. He gives methe best advice, as to my malady, if I may call it one: treats me withredoubled tenderness: talks to me upon the subjects I most delight todwell 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 ofthe town; of Miss Darnford's company; and when he goes abroad, sendsup my good Mrs. Jervis to me, because I should not be alone: atother times, takes me abroad with him, brings this neighbour and thatneighbour to visit; and carries me to visit them; talks of our journeyto Kent, and into Lincolnshire, and to my Lady Davers's, to Bath, toTunbridge, and I can't tell whither, when the apprehended time shallbe over. --In fine, my dear Miss Darnford, you cannot imagine one halfof his tender goodness and politeness to me!--Then he hardly evergoes to any distance, but brings some pretty present he thinks will begrateful to me. When at home, he is seldom out of my company; delightsto teach me French and Italian, and reads me pieces of manuscriptpoetry, in several of the modern tongues (for he speaks them all);explains to me every thing I understand not; delights to answer all myquestions, and to encourage my inquisitiveness and curiosity, triesto give me a notion of pictures and medals, and reads me lectures uponthem, for he has a fine collection of both; and every now andthen will have it, that he has been improved by my questions andobservations. 

What say you to these things, my dear? Do they come up to your firstquestion? or do they not? Or is not what I have said, a full answer, were I to say no more, to _all_ your enquiries?

O my dear, I am thoroughly convinced, that half the misunderstandings, among married people, are owing to trifles, to petty distinctions, to mere words, and little captious follies, to over-weenings, orunguarded petulances: and who would forego the solid satisfactionof life, for the sake of triumphing in such poor contentions, if onecould triumph?

But you next require of me an instance, where, in complaisance to _my_will, he has receded from _his own?_ I don't know what to say tothis. When Mr. B. Is all tenderness and indulgence, and requires ofme 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 beexcusable if I _had?_ All little matters I cheerfully give up: greatones have not yet occurred between us, and I hope never will. Onepoint, indeed, I have some apprehension _may_ happen; and that, to beplain with you, is, we have had a debate or two on the subject (whichI maintain) of a mother's duty to nurse her own child; and I am sorryto 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 Imentioned. _Prerogative_ by name; but I doubt I cannot give up thispoint very contentedly. But as to lesser points, had I been a duchessborn, I think I would not have contested them with my husband. 

I could give you many respectful instances too, of his receding, whenhe has desired to see what I have been writing, and I have told him towhom, and begged to be excused. One such instance I can give since Ibegan this letter. This is it:

I put it in my bosom, when he came up: he saw me do so:

"Are you writing, my dear, what I must not see?"

"I am writing to Miss Darnford, Sir: and she begged you might not atpresent. "

"This 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, becauseshe desires you may not see her letter, nor this my answer, till theletter is in her hands. "

"Then I will not, " returned Mr. B. 

Will this instance, my dear, come up to your demand for one, where herecedes from his own will, in complaisance to mine?

But now, as to what both our notions and our practice are on thearticle of my retirements, and whether he breaks in upon themunceremoniously, and without apology, let the conversation I promisedinform you, which began on the following occasion. 

Mr. B. Rode out early one morning, within a few days past, and did notreturn till the afternoon; an absence I had not been used to of late;and breakfasting and dining without him being also a new thing withme, I had such an impatience to see him, having expected him atdinner, 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 changehis riding-dress, as your politeness, my dear friend, would perhapshave expected; but came directly up to me, with an impatience to seeme, equal to my own, when he was told, upon enquiry, that I was in mycloset. 

I heard his welcome step, as he came up stairs; which generally, aftera 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. 

I met him at my closet door. "So, my dear love, " says he, "how doyou?" folding his kind arms about me, and saluting me with ardour. "Whenever I have been but a few hours from you, my impatience tosee my beloved, will not permit me to stand upon the formality of amessage to know how you are engaged; but I break in upon you, even inmy riding-dress, as you see. "

"Dear Sir, you are very obliging. But I have no notion of _mere_formalities of this kind"--(How unpolite this, my dear, in yourfriend?)--"in a married state, since 'tis impossible a virtuous wifecan be employed about any thing that her husband may not know, and soneed not fear surprises. "

"I am glad to hear you say this, my Pamela; for I have always thoughtthe extraordinary civilities and distances of this kind which I haveobserved among several persons of rank, altogether unaccountable. Forif they are exacted by the lady, I should suspect she had reserves, which she herself believed I could not approve. If not exacted, but practised of choice by the gentleman, it carries with it, in myopinion, a false air of politeness, little less than affrontive tothe lady, and dishonourable to himself; for does it not look as ifhe supposed, and allowed, that she might be so employed that it wasnecessary to apprise her of his visit, lest he should make discoveriesnot 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 littledelicacies and moments of retirement, no doubt, in which a modest ladywould wish to be indulged by the tenderest husband. "

"It may be so in an _early_ matrimony, before the lady's confidence inthe honour and discretion of the man she has chosen has disengaged herfrom 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 herconfidence in her husband's honour and discretion ever so great. For, indeed, I think a gross or a careless demeanour little becomes thatmodesty which is the peculiar excellency and distinction of our sex. "

"You account very well, my dear, by what you now say for your ownover-nice behaviour, as I have sometimes thought it. But are we notall apt to argue for a practice we make our own, because we _do_ makeit our own, rather than from the reason of the thing?"

"I hope, Sir, that is not the present case with me; for, permit me tosay, that an over-free or negligent behaviour of a lady in the marriedstate, must be a mark of disrespect to her consort, and would shew asif she was very little solicitous about what appearance she made inhis eye. And must not this beget in him a slight opinion of her sextoo, as if, supposing the gentleman had been a free liver, she wouldconvince him there was no other difference in the sex, but as theywere within or without the pale, licensed by the law, or acting indefiance of it?"

"I understand the force of your argument, Pamela. But you were goingto say something more. "

"Only, Sir, permit me to add, that when, in my particular case, youenjoin me to appear before you always dressed, even in the early partof the day, it would be wrong, if I was less regardful of my behaviourand actions, than of my appearance. "

"I believe you are right, my dear, if a precise or unnecessaryscrupulousness be avoided, and where all is unaffected, easy, andnatural, as in my Pamela. For I have seen married ladies, both inEngland and France, who have kept a husband at a greater distance thanthey have exacted from some of his sex, who have been more entitled tohis resentment, than to his wife's intimacies. 

"But to wave a subject, in which, as I can with pleasure say, neitherof us have much concern, tell me, my dearest, how you were employedbefore I came up? Here are pen and ink: here, too, is paper, but it isas 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 I had put it by, at hisapproach, and not choosing he should see that--"I am writing, " repliedI, "to Miss Darnford: but I think you must not ask me to see what Ihave written _this_ time. I put it aside that you should not, whenI heard your welcome step. The subject is our parting with our nobleguests; and a little of my apprehensiveness, on an occasion upon whichour sex may write to one another; but, for some of the reasons we havebeen mentioning, gentlemen should not desire to see. "

"Then I will not, my dearest love. " (So here, my dear, is anotherinstance--I could give you an hundred such--of his receding from hisown will, in complaisance to mine. ) "Only, " continued he, "let me warnyou against too much apprehensiveness, for your own sake, as well asmine; for such a mind as my Pamela's I cannot permit to behabitually over-clouded. And yet there now hangs upon your brow anover-thoughtfulness, which you must not indulge. "

"Indeed, Sir, I was a little too thoughtful, from my subject, beforeyou came; but your presence, like the sun, has dissipated the miststhat hung upon my mind. See you not, " and I pressed his hand with mylips, "they are all gone already?" smiling upon him with a delightunfeigned. 

"Not quite, my dearest Pamela; and therefore, if you have noobjection, I will change my dress, and attend you in the chariot foran hour or two, whither you please, that not one shadow may remainvisible in this dear face;" tenderly saluting me. 

"Whithersoever you please, Sir. A little airing with you will behighly agreeable to me. "

The dear obliger went and changed his dress in an instant; and heled me to the chariot, with his usual tender politeness, and we had acharming airing of several miles; returning quite happy, cheerful, anddelighted with each other's conversation, without calling in upon anyof our good neighbours: for what need of that, my dear, when we couldbe the best company in the world to each other?

Do these instances come up to your questions, my dear? or, do theynot?--If you think not, I could give you our conversation in thechariot: for I wrote it down at my first leisure, so highly was Idelighted with it; for the subject was my dearest parents; a subjectstarted by himself, because he knew it would oblige me. But beingtired with writing, I may reserve it, till I have the pleasure ofseeing you, if you think it worth asking for. And so I will hasten toa conclusion of this long letter. 

I have only farther to add, for my comfort, that next Thursdayse'n-night, if nothing hinders, we are to set out for London. And whydo you think I say _for my comfort?_ Only that I shall then soon havethe opportunity, to assure you personally, as you give me hope, howmuch I am, my dear Miss Darnford, _your truly affectionate_. P. B. 

LETTER XLII

My dear Miss Darnford, One more letter, and I have done for a great while, because I hopeyour presence will put an end to the occasion. I shall now tell you ofmy second visit to the dairy-house, where we went to breakfast, in thechariot and four, because of the distance, which is ten pretty longmiles. 

I transcribed for you, from letters written formerly to my dearparents, an account of my former dairy-house visit, and what thepeople were, and whom I saw there; and although I besought you to keepthat affair to yourself, as too much affecting the reputation of myMr. B. To be known any farther, and even to destroy that account, whenyou had perused it; yet, I make no doubt, you remember the story, andso I need not repeat any part of it. 

When we arrived there, we found at the door, expecting us (for theyheard the chariot-wheels at a distance), my pretty Miss Goodwin, and two other Misses, who had earned their ride, attended by thegoverness's daughter, a discreet young gentlewoman. As soon as Istepped out, the child ran into my arms with great eagerness, and Ias tenderly embraced her, and leading her into the parlour, asked herabundance of questions about her work, and her lessons; and among therest if she had merited this distinction of the chaise and dairy-housebreakfast, or if it was owing to her uncle's favour, and to that ofher governess? The young gentlewoman assured me it was to both, andshewed me her needleworks, and penmanship; and the child was highlypleased with my commendations. 

I took a good deal of notice of the other two Misses, for theirschool-fellow's sake, and made each of them a present of some littletoys; and my Miss, of a number of pretty trinkets, with which shewas highly delighted; and I told her, that I would wait upon hergoverness, when I came from London into the country again, and see inwhat order she kept her little matters; for, above all things, I lovepretty 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 itshould be taken, that he _was_ more. Such power has secret guilt, poorgentleman! to lessen and restrain a pleasure, that would, in a happierlight, have been so laudable to have manifested!

I am going to let you into a charming scene, resulting from thisperplexity of the dear gentleman. A scene that has afforded me highdelight ever since; and always will, when I think of it. 

The child was very fond of her uncle, and told him she loved himdearly, and always would love and honour him, for giving her such agood aunt. "You talked, Madam, " said she, "when I saw you before, thatI should come and live with you--Will you let me, Madam? Indeed I willbe very good, and do every thing you bid me, and mind my book, and myneedle; indeed I will. "

"Ask your uncle, my dear, " said I; "I should like your pretty companyof all things. "

She went to Mr. B. And said, "Shall I, Sir, go and live with myaunt?--Pray let me, when you come from London again. "

"You have a very good governess, child, " said he; "and she can't partwith you. "

"Yes, but she can. Sir; she has a great many Misses, and can spare mewell enough; and if you please to let me ride in your coach sometimes, I can go and visit my governess, and beg a holiday for the Misses, now-and-then, when I am almost a woman, and then all the Misses willlove me. "

"Don't the Misses love you now, Miss Goodwin?" said he. 

"Yes, they love me well enough, for matter of that; but they'll loveme better, when I can beg them a holiday. Do, dear Sir, let me go hometo my new aunt, next time you come into the country. "

I was much pleased with the dear child's earnestness; and permitted herto have her full argument with her beloved uncle; but was much moved, and he himself was under some concern, when she said, "But you should, in pity, let me live with you, Sir, for I have no papa, nor mammaneither: they are so far off!--But I will love you both as if you weremy own papa and mamma; so, dear now, my good uncle, promise the poorgirl that has never a papa nor mamma!"

I withdrew to the door: "It will rain, I believe, " said I, and lookedup. And, indeed, I had almost a shower in my eye: and had I kept myplace, could not have refrained shewing how much I was affected. 

Mr. B. , as I said, was a little moved; but for fear the younggentlewoman should take notice of it--"How! my dear, " said he, "nopapa and mamma!--Did they not send you a pretty black boy to wait uponyou, a while ago? Have you forgot that?"--"That's true, " replied she:"but what's a black boy to living with my new aunt?--That's better agreat deal than a black boy!"

"Well, your aunt and I will consider of it, when we come from London. Be a good girl, meantime, and do as your governess would have you, andthen you don't know what we may do for you. "

"Well then, Miss, " said she to her young governess, "let me be set twotasks instead of one, and I will learn all I can to deserve to go tomy aunt. "

In this manner the little prattler diverted herself. And as wereturned from them, the scene I hinted at, opened as follows:

Mr. B. Was pleased to say, "What a poor figure does the proudest manmake, my dear Pamela, under the sense of a concealed guilt, in companyof the innocent who know it, and even of those who do not!--Since thecasual expression of a baby shall overwhelm him with shame, andmake him unable to look up without confusion. I blushed for myself, "continued he, "to see how you were affected for me, and yet withdrew, to avoid reproaching me so much as with a look. Surely, Pamela, Imust then make a most contemptible appearance in your eye! Did you notdisdain me at that moment?"

"Dearest Sir! how can you speak such a word? A word I cannotrepeat after you! For at that very time, I beheld you with the morereverence, for seeing your noble heart touched with a sense of yourerror; and it was such an earnest to me of the happiest change I couldever wish for, and in so young a gentleman, that it was one halfjoy for that, and the other half concern at the little charmer'saccidental plea, to her best and nearest friend, for coming home toher new aunt, that affected me so sensibly as you saw. "

"You must not talk to me of the child's coming home, after this visit, Pamela; for how, at this rate, shall I stand the reproaches of my ownmind, when I see the little prater every day before me, and think ofwhat her poor mamma has suffered on my account! 'Tis enough, that in_you_, my dear, I have an hourly reproach before me, for my attemptson your virtue; and I have nothing to boast of, but that I gave way tothe triumphs of your innocence: and what then is my boast?"

"What is your boast, dearest Sir? You have everything to boast, thatis worthy of being boasted of. 

"You are the best of husbands, the best of landlords, the best ofmasters, the best of friends; and, with all these excellencies, anda mind, as I hope, continually improving, and more and more affectedwith the sense of its past mistakes, will you ask, dear Sir, what isyour boast?

"O my dearest, dear Mr. B. , " and then I pressed his hands with mylips, "whatever you are to yourself, when you give way to reflectionsso hopeful, you are the glory and the boast of your grateful Pamela!And permit me to add, " tears standing in my eyes, and holding his handbetween mine, "that I never beheld you in my life, in a more amiablelight, than when I saw that noble consciousness which you speak of, manifest itself in your eyes, and your countenance--O Sir! this was asight of joy, of true joy! to one who loves you for your dear soul'ssake, as well as for that of your person; and who looks forward to acompanionship with you beyond the term of this transitory life. "

Putting my arms round his arms, as I sat, my fearful eye watching his, "I fear. Sir, I have been too serious! I have, perhaps, broken oneof your injunctions! Have cast a gloominess over your mind! And if Ihave, dear Sir, forgive me!"

He clasped his arms around me: "O my beloved Pamela, " said he; "thoudear confirmer of all my better purposes! How shall I acknowledge yourinexpressible goodness to me? I see every day more and more, my dearlove, what confidence I may repose in your generosity and discretion!You want no forgiveness; and my silence was owing to much bettermotives than to those you were apprehensive of. "

He saw my grateful transport, and kindly said, "Struggle not, mybeloved Pamela, for words to express sentiments which your eyes andyour countenance much more significantly express than any words _can_do. Every day produces new instances of your affectionate concern formy _future_ as well as _present_ happiness: and I will endeavour toconfirm to you all the hopes which the present occasion has given youof me, and which I see by these transporting effects are so desirableto you. "

The chariot brought us home sooner than I wished, and Mr. B. Handed meinto the parlour. 

"Here, Mrs. Jervis, " said he, meeting her in the passage, "receiveyour angelic lady. I must take a little tour without you, Pamela; forI have had _too much_ of your dear company, and must leave you, todescend again into myself; for you have raised me to such a height, that it is with pain I look down from it. "

He kissed my hand, and went into his chariot again; for it was buthalf an hour after twelve; and said he would be back by two at dinner. He left Mrs. Jervis wondering at his words, and at the solemn air withwhich he uttered them. But when I told that good friend the occasion, I had a new joy in the pleasure and gratulations of the dear goodwoman, on what had passed. 

My next letter will be from London, and to you, my honoured parents;for to you, my dear, I shall not write again, expecting to seeyou soon. But I must now write seldomer, because I am to renew mycorrespondence with Lady Davers; with whom I cannot be so free, asI have been with Miss Darnford; and so I doubt, my dear father andmother, you cannot have the particulars of that correspondence; for Ishall never find time to transcribe. 

But every opportunity that offers, you may assure yourselves, shall belaid hold of by your ever-dutiful daughter. 

And now, my dear Miss Darnford, as I inscribed this letter to you, letme conclude it, with the assurance, that I am, and ever will be _yourmost affectionate friend and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XLIII

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I know you will be pleased to hear that we arrived safely in town lastnight. We found a stately, well-furnished, and convenient house; andI had my closet, or library, and my withdrawing room, all in completeorder, which Mr. B. Gave me possession of in the most obliging manner. 

I am in a new world, as I may say, and see such vast piles ofbuilding, and such a concourse of people, and hear such a rattlingof coaches in the day, that I hardly know what to make of it, as yet. Then the nightly watch, going their hourly rounds, disturbed me. ButI shall soon be used to that, and sleep the sounder, perhaps, for thesecurity it assures to us. 

Mr. B. Is impatient to shew me what is curious in and about this vastcity, and to hear, as he is pleased to say, my observations upon whatI shall see. He has carried me through several of the fine streetsthis day in his chariot; but, at present, I have too confused a notionof things, to give any account of them: nor shall I trouble you withdescriptions of that kind; for you being within a day's journey ofLondon, I hope for the pleasure of seeing you oftener than I couldexpect before; and shall therefore leave these matters to your ownobservations, and what you'll hear from others. 

I am impatient for the arrival of my dear Miss Darnford, whose companyand conversation will reconcile me, in a great measure, to this newworld. 

Our family at present are Colbrand, Jonathan, and six men servants, including the coachman. The four maids are also with us. 

But my good Mrs. Jervis was indisposed; so came not up with us; but weexpect her and Mr. Longman in a day or two: for Mr. B. Has given herto my wishes; and as Mr. Longman's business will require him to be upand down frequently, Mrs. Jervis's care will be the better dispensedwith. I long to see the dear good woman, and shall be more in myelement when I do. 

Then I have, besides, my penitent Polly Barlow, who has never heldup her head since that deplorable instance of her weakness, which Imentioned to you and to Miss Darnford, yet am I as kind to her as ifnothing bad happened. I wish, however, some good husband would offerfor her. 

Mr. Adams, our worthy chaplain, is now with Mr. Williams. He purposesto give us his company here till Christmas, when probably matters willbe adjusted for him to take possession of his living. Meantime, not tolet fall a good custom, when perhaps we have most occasion for it, Imake Jonathan, who is reverend by his years and silver hairs, supplyhis place, appointing him the prayers he is to read. 

God preserve you both in health, and continue to me, I beseech you, your prayers and blessings, concludes _your ever dutiful daughter_, P. B. 

LETTER XLIV

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers. _

My Dearest Lady, I must beg pardon, for having been in this great town more than aweek, and not having found an opportunity to tender my devoirs to yourladyship. You know, dear Madam, what hurries and fatigues must attendsuch a journey, to one in my way, and to an entire new settlementin which an hundred things must be done, and attended to, with apreference to other occasions, however delightful. Yet, I must own, wefound a stately, well-ordered, and convenient house: but, although itis not far from the fields, and has an airy opening to its back part, and its front to a square, as it is called, yet I am not reconciled toit, so entirely as to the beloved mansion we left. 

My dear Mr. B. Has been, and is, busily employed in ordering some fewalterations, to make things still more commodious. He has furnished meout a pretty library; and has allotted me very convenient apartmentsbesides: the furniture of every place is rich, as befits the mind andfortune of the generous owner. But I shall not offer at particulars, as we hope to have the honour of a visit from my good lord, and yourladyship, before the winter weather sets in, to make the roads toodirty and deep: but it is proper to mention, that the house is solarge, that we can make a great number of beds, the more convenientlyto receive the honours of your ladyship, and my lord, and Mr. B. 'sother friends will do us. 

I have not yet been at any of the public diversions. Mr. B. Hascarried me, by gentle turns, out of his workmen's way, ten miles roundthis overgrown capital, and through the principal of its numerousstreets. The villages that lie spangled about this vast circumference, as well on the other side the noble Thames (which I had before anotion of, from Sir John Denham's celebrated Cooper's Hill), as on theMiddlesex side, are beautiful, both by buildings and situation, beyondwhat I had imagined, and several of them seem larger than many of ourcountry towns of note. But it would be impertinent to trouble yourladyship with these matters, who are no stranger to what is worthyof notice in London. But I was surprised, when Mr. B. Observed to me, that this whole county, and the two cities of London and Westminster, are represented in parliament by no more than eight members, when somany borough towns in England are inferior to the meanest villagesabout London. 

I am in daily expectation of the arrival of Miss Darnford, and then Ishall wish (accompanied by a young lady of so polite a taste) to seea good play. Mr. B. Has already shewn me the opera-house, and theplay-houses, though silent, as I may say; that, as he was pleased toobserve, they should not be new to me, and that the sight might nottake off my attention from the performance, when I went to the play;so that I can conceive a tolerable notion of every thing, from thedisposition of the seats, the boxes, galleries, pit, the music, scenes, and the stage; and so shall have no occasion to gaze about me, like a country novice, whereby I might attract a notice that I wouldnot wish, either for my own credit, or your dear brother's honour. 

I have had a pleasure which I had not in Bedfordshire; and that is, that on Sunday I was at church, without gaping crowds to attend us, and blessings too loud for my wishes. Yet I was more gazed at (andso was Mr. B. ) than I expected, considering there were so manywell-dressed gentry, and some nobility there, and _they_ stared asmuch as any body, but will not, I hope, when we cease to be a novelty. 

We have already had several visitors to welcome Mr. B. To town, and tocongratulate him on his marriage; but some, no doubt, to see, and tofind fault with his rustic; for it is impossible, you know, Madam, that a gentleman so distinguished by his merit and fortune should havetaken a step of such consequence to himself and family, and not tohave been known by every body so to have done. 

Sir Thomas Atkyns is in town, and has taken apartments in HanoverSquare; and he brought with him a younger brother of Mr. Arthur's, who, it seems, is a merchant. 

Lord F. Has also been to pay his respects to Mr. B. Whose schoolfellow he was at Eton, the little time Mr. B. Was there. His lordshippromises, that his lady shall make me a visit, and accompany me to theopera, as soon as we are fully settled. 

A gentleman of the Temple, Mr. Turner by name, and Mr. Fanshow ofGray's Inn, both lawyers, and of Mr. B. 's former acquaintance, verysprightly and modish gentlemen, have also welcomed us to town, andmade Mr. B. Abundance of gay compliments on my account to my face, allin the common frothy run. 

They may be polite gentlemen, but I can't say I over-much like them. There is something so opiniated, so seemingly insensible of rebuke, either from _within_ or _without_, and yet not promising to avoiddeserving one occasionally, that I could as _lieve_ wish Mr. B. Andthey would not renew their former acquaintance. 

I am very bold your ladyship will say--But you command me to writefreely: yet I would not be thought to be uneasy, with regard to yourdear brother's morals, from these gentlemen; for, oh, Madam, I am ablessed creature, and am hourly happier and happier in the confidenceI have as to that particular: but I imagine they will forcethemselves upon him, more than he may wish, or would permit, were theacquaintance now to begin; for they are not of his turn of mind, asit seems to me; being, by a sentence or two that dropt from them, veryfree, and very frothy in their conversation; and by their laughing atwhat they say themselves, taking that for wit which will not stand thetest, if I may be allowed to say so. 

But they have heard, no doubt, what a person Mr. B. 's goodness to mehas lifted into notice; and they think themselves warranted to say anything before his country girl. 

He was pleased to ask me, when they were gone, how I liked his twolawyers? And said, they were persons of family and fortune. 

"I am glad of it, Sir, " said I; "for their own sakes. "

"Then you don't approve of them, Pamela?"

"They are _your_ friends, Sir; and I cannot have any dislike to them. "

"They say good things _sometimes_, " returned he. 

"I don't doubt it, Sir; but you say good things _always_. "

"'Tis happy for me, my dear, you think so. But tell me, what you thinkof 'em?"

"I shall be better able, Sir, to answer your questions, if I see thema second time. "

"But we form notions of persons at first sight, sometimes, my dear;and you are seldom mistaken in yours. "

"I only think. Sir, that they have neither of them any diffidence: buttheir profession, perhaps, may set them above that. "

"They don't _practise_, my dear; their fortunes enable them to livewithout it; and they are too studious of their pleasures, to givethemselves any trouble they are not obliged to take. "

"They seem to me. Sir, _qualified_ for practice: they would make greatfigures at the bar, I fancy. "

"Why so?"

"Only, because they seem prepared to think _well_ of what they say_themselves_; and _lightly_ of what _other people_ say, or may think, _of them_. "

"That, indeed, my dear, is the necessary qualifications of a publicspeaker, be he lawyer, or what he will: the man who cannot doubt_himself_, and can think meanly of his _auditors_, never fails tospeak with _self-applause_ at least. "

"But you'll pardon me, good Sir, for speaking my mind so freely, andso early of these _your friends_. "

"I never, my love, ask you a question, I wish you not to answer; andalways expect your answer should be without reserve; for many timesI may ask your opinion, as a corrective or a confirmation of my ownjudgment. "

How kind, how indulgent was this, my good lady! But you know, howgenerously your dear brother treats me, on all occasions; and thismakes me so bold as I often am. 

It may be necessary, my dear lady, to give you an account of ourvisitors, in order to make the future parts of my writing the moreintelligible; because what I have to write may turn sometimes upon thecompany we see: for which reason, I shall also just mention Sir GeorgeStuart, a Scottish gentleman, with whom Mr. B. Became acquainted inhis travels, who seems to be a polite (and Mr. B. Says, is a learned)man, and a virtuoso: he, and a nephew of his, of the same name, abashful gentleman, and who, for that reason, I imagine, has a meritthat lies deeper than a first observation can reach, are just gonefrom us, and were received with so much civility by Mr. B. As entitlesthem to my respectful regard. 

Thus, Madam, do I run on, in a manner, without materials; and onlyto shew you the pleasure I take in obeying you. I hope my good LordDavers enjoys his health, and continues me in his favour; which Ivalue extremely, as well as your ladyship's. Mr. H. , I hope, likewiseenjoys his health. But let me not forget my particular and thankfulrespects to the Countess, for her favour and goodness to me, which Ishall ever place next, in my grateful esteem, to the honours Ihave received from your ladyship, and which bind me to be, with thegreatest respect, _your faithful and obliged servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XLV

MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER, I write to you both, at this time, for your advice in a particulardispute, which is the only one I have had, or I hope ever shall have, with my dear benefactor; and as he is pleased to insist upon hisway, and it is a point of conscience with me, I must resolve to bedetermined by your joint advice; for, if my father and mother, andhusband, are of one opinion, I must, I think, yield up my own. 

This is the subject:--I think a mother ought, if she can, to be thenurse to her own children. 

Mr. B. Says, he will not permit it. 

It is the first _will not_ I have heard from him, or given occasionfor: and I tell him, that it is a point of conscience with me, andI hope he will indulge me: but the dear gentleman has an odd way ofarguing, that sometimes puzzles me. He pretends to answer me fromScripture; but I have some doubts of _his_ exposition; and he gives meleave to write to you, though yet he won't promise to be determined byyour opinions if they are not the same with his own; and I say to him, "Is this fair, my dearest Mr. B. ? Is it?"

He has got the dean's opinion with him; for our debate began before wecame to town: and then he would not let me state the case; but did ithimself; and yet 'tis but an half opinion, as I may, neither. For itis, that if the husband is set upon it, it is a wife's duty to obey. 

But I can't see how that is; for if it be the _natural_ duty of amother, it is a _divine_ duty; and how can a husband have power todischarge a divine duty? As great as a wife's obligation is to obeyher husband, which is, I own, one indispensable of the marriagecontract, it ought not to interfere with what one takes to be asuperior duty; and must not one be one's own judge of actions, bywhich we must stand or fall?

I'll tell you my plea:

I say, that where a mother is unhealthy; subject to communicativedistempers, as scrophulous or scorbutic, or consumptive disorders, which have infected the blood or lungs; or where they have not plentyof nourishment for the child, that in these cases, a dispensation liesof course. 

But where there is good health, free spirits, and plentifulnourishment, I think it an indispensable duty. 

For this was the custom of old, of all the good wives we read of inScripture. 

Then the nourishment of the mother must be most natural to the child. 

These were my pleas, among others: and this is his answer which hegave to me in writing:

"As to what you allege, my dear, of old customs; times and fashionsare much changed. If you tell me of Sarah's, or Rachel's, orRebecca's, or Leah's nursing their children, I can answer, that theone drew water at a well, for her father's flocks; another kneadedcakes, and baked them on the hearth; another dressed savoury meatfor her husband; and all of them performed the common offices of thehousehold: and when our modern ladies shall follow such examples in_every thing_, their plea ought to be allowed in this. 

"Besides, my fondness for your personal graces, and the laudable, and, I will say, honest pleasure, I take in that easy, genteel form, whichevery body admires in you, at first sight, oblige me to declare, thatI can by no means consent to sacrifice these to the carelessness intowhich I have seen very nice ladies sink, when they became nurses. Moreover, my chief delight in you is for the beauties of your mind;and unequalled as they are, in my opinion, you have still a geniuscapable of great improvement; and I shan't care, when I want to hearmy Pamela read her French and Latin lessons, which I take so muchdelight to teach her (and to endeavour to improve myself from hervirtue and piety, at the same time), to seek my beloved in thenursery; or to permit her to be engrossed by those baby offices, whichwill better befit weaker minds. 

"No, my dear, you must allow me to look upon you as my scholar, in onesense; as my companion in another; and as my instructress, in a third. You know I am not governed by the worst motives: I am half overcome byyour virtue: and you must take care, that you leave not your work halfdone. But I cannot help looking upon the nurse's office, as an officebeneath Pamela. Let it have your inspection, your direction, and yoursole attention, if you please, when I am abroad: but when I am athome, even a son and heir, so jealous am I of your affections, shallnot be my rival in them: nor will I have my rest broken in upon, byyour servants bringing to you your dear little one, at times, perhaps, as unsuitable to my repose and your own, as to the child'snecessities. 

"The chief thing with you, my dear, is that you think it unnatural ina mother not to be a nurse to her own child, if she can; and what isunnatural, you say, is sin. 

"Some men may be fond of having their wives undertake this province, and good reasons may be assigned for such their fondness; but itsuits not me at all. And yet no man would be thought to have a greateraffection for children than myself, or be more desirous to do themjustice; for I think every one should look forward to posterity witha preference: but if my Pamela can be _better_ employed; if the officecan be equally well performed; if your direction and superintendencewill be sufficient; and if I cannot look upon you in that way withequal delight, as if it was otherwise; I insist upon it, my Pamela, that you acquiesce with my _dispensation_, and don't think to let melose my beloved wife, and have a nurse put upon me instead of her. 

"As to that (the nearest to me of all) of dangers to yourconstitution: there is as much reason to hope it may not be so, as tofear that it _may_. For children sometimes bring health with them aswell as infirmity; 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 veryrobust constitution, and thinks it so much her duty to attend to it, that she will abridge herself of half the pleasures of life, and onthat account confine herself within doors, or, in the other case, musttake with her her infant and her nursery-maid wherever she goes; andI shall either have very fine company (shall I not?) or be obliged todeny myself yours. 

"Then, as I propose to give you a smattering of the French andItalian, I know not but I may take you on a little tour into Franceand Italy; at least, to Bath, Tunbridge, Oxford, York, and theprincipal places of England. Wherefore, as I love to look upon you asthe companion of my pleasures, I advise you, my dearest love, not toweaken, or, to speak in a phrase proper to the present subject, _wean_me from that love _to_ you, and admiration _of_ you, which hithertohas been rather increasing than otherwise, as your merit, and regardfor me have increased. "

These, my dear parents, are charming allurements, almost irresistibletemptations! And what makes me mistrust myself the more, and be themore diffident; for we are but too apt to be persuaded into any thing, when the motives are so tempting as the last. 

I take it for granted, that many wives will not choose to disputethis point so earnestly as I have done; for we have had several littledebates about it; and it is the only point I have ever yet debatedwith him; but one would not be altogether implicit neither. It is nocompliment to him to be quite passive, and to have no will at all ofone's own: yet would I not dispute one point, but in supposition ofa superior obligation: and this, he says, he can _dispense_ with. Butalas! my dear Mr. B. Was never yet thought so entirely fit to fill upthe character of a casuistical divine, as that one may absolutely relyupon his decisions in these serious points: and you know we must standor fall by our own judgments. 

Upon condition, therefore, that he requires not to see this myletter, nor your answer to it, I write for your advice. But this I seeplainly, that he will have his own way; and if I cannot get over myscruples, what shall I do? For if I think it a _sin_ to submit to thedispensation he insists upon as in his power to grant, and to submitto it, what will become of my peace of mind? For it is not in ourpower to believe as one will. 

As to the liberty he gives me for a month, I should be loath to takeit; for one knows not the inconveniences that may attend a change ofnourishment; or if I did, I should rather--But I know not what I wouldsay; for I am but a young creature to be in this way, and so veryunequal 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 XLVI

My Dearest Child, Your mother and I have as well considered the case you put as we areable; and we think your own reasons very good; and it is a thousandpities your honoured husband will not allow them, as you, my dear, make it such a point with you. Very few ladies would give theirspouses, we believe, the trouble of this debate; and few gentlemen areso very nice as yours in this respect; for I (but what signifieswhat such a mean soul as I think, compared to so learned and brave agentleman; yet I) always thought your dear mother, and she has been apretty woman too, in her time, never looked so lovely, as when I sawher, like the pelican in the wilderness, feeding her young ones fromher kind breast:--and had I never so noble an estate, I should havehad the same thoughts. 

But since the good 'squire cannot take this pleasure; since he so muchvalues your person; since he gives you warning, that it may estrangehis affections; since he is impatient of denial, and thinks so highlyof his prerogative; since he may, if disobliged, resume some badhabits, and so you may have all your prayers and hopes in his perfectreformation frustrated, and find your own power to do good morenarrowed: we think, besides the obedience you have vowed to him, andis the duty of every good wife, you ought to give up the point, andacquiesce; for this seemeth to us to be the lesser evil: and GodAlmighty, if it should be your duty, will not be less merciful thanmen; who, as his honour says, by the laws of the realm, excuses awife, 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 reallygives very praise-worthy motives for his dispensation) will not belaid at his own door. So e'en resolve, my dearest child, to submit toit, and with cheerfulness too. 

God send you an happy hour! But who knows, when the time comes, whether it may not be proper to dispense with this duty, as youdeem it, on other accounts? For every young person is not enabledto perform it. So, to shew his honour, that you will cheerfullyacquiesce, your dear mother advises you to look out for a wholesome, good-humoured, honest body, as near your complexion and temper, andconstitution, 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 morestrength and perfection, as one may say, than even you can have atyour tender age: and, above all, for the wise reason you give fromyour reading, that she may be brought to-bed much about your time, ifpossible. We can look out, about us, for such an one. And, as Mr. B. Is not adverse to have the dear child in the house, you will have asmuch delight, and the dear baby may fare as well, under your prudentand 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 acquiescein this point with cheerfulness (although, as you say, one cannotbelieve, 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 mostaffectionate father and mother, _

J. _and_ E. ANDREWS. 

LETTER XLVII

I thank you, my dearest parents, for your kind letter; it was given toMr. B. And he brought it to me himself, and was angry with me: indeedhe was, as you shall hear:

"'Tis from the good couple, my dear, I see. I hope they are of myopinion--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 sat down, andconsidered it well; but, as you know I made it always my maxim todo what I could not avoid to do, with as good a grace as possible, Iwaited on the dear gentleman. 

"Well, Pamela, " said he, a little seriously, "what say the worthypair?"

"O Sir! they declare for you. They say, it is best for me to yield upthis point. "

"They are certainly in the right--But were you not a dear perversecreature, to give me all this trouble about your saucy scruples?"

"Nay, Sir, don't call them so, " said I, little thinking he wasdispleased with me. "I still am somewhat wavering; though they adviseme to acquiesce; and, as it is your will, and you have determined, itis 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. AndI 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, oneshould not yield implicitly, till they are satisfied; for that wouldlook 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, youhad made me half serious; yet I would not shew it, in complimentto your present condition; for I did not expect that you would havethought any appeal necessary, though to your parents, in a point thatI 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 nocourage to look up to his face, for fear I should behold his aspect asmortifying to me as his words. But he took both my hands, and drew mekindly to him, and saluted me, "Excuse me, my dearest love: I am notangry with you. Why starts this precious pearl?" and kissed my cheek:"speak to me, Pamela!"

"I will, Sir--I will--as soon as I can:" for this being my firstcheck, so seriously given, my heart was full. But as I knew he wouldbe angry, and think me obstinate, if I did not speak, I said, fullof concern, "I wish, Sir--I wish--you had been pleased to spare me alittle longer, for the same kind, very kind, consideration. "

"But is it not better, my dear, to tell you I _was_ a little out ofhumour with you, than that I _am_?--But you were very earnest withme on this point more than once; and you put me upon a hated, becauseungenerous, necessity of pleading my prerogative, as I call it; yetthis would not do, but you appealed against me in the point I wasdetermined upon, for reasons altogether in your favour: and if thiswas not like my Pamela, excuse me, that I could not help being alittle unlike myself. "

"Ah!" thought I, "this is not so very unlike your dear self, were I togive the least shadow of an occasion; for it is of a piece with yourlessons formerly. "

"I am sure, " said I, "I was not in the least aware, that I hadoffended. But I was too little circumspect. I had been used to yourgoodness for so long a time, that I expected it, it seems; and thoughtI was sure of your favourable construction. "

"Why, so you may be, my dear, in every thing _almost_. But I don'tlove 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 wheremy _conscience_ was concerned, and a _common_ point: you know. Sir, Inever had any will but yours in _common_ points. But, indeed, you makeme fearful because my task is rendered too difficult for my own weakjudgment. "

I was silent, but by my tears. 

"Now, I doubt, Pamela, your spirit is high. You won't speak, becauseyou 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 timewith your sex, when, saddened with your apprehensions, and indulgedbecause of them, by the fond husband, it is needful, for both theirsakes, to watch over the changes of their temper. For ladies in yourway are often like encroaching subjects; apt to extend what they calltheir privileges, on the indulgence shewed them; and the husband neveragain recovers the ascendant he had before. "

"You know these things better than I, Mr. B. But I had no intentionto invade your province, or to go out of my own. Yet I thought I had aright to a little free will, on some greater occasions. "

"Why, so you have, my dear. But you must not plead in behalf of yourown will, and refuse to give due weight to mine. " "Well, Sir, I mustneeds say, I have one advantage above others of my sex; for if wives, in my circumstances, are apt to grow upon indulgence, I am very happythat your kind and watchful care will hinder me from falling into thaterror. "

He gave me a gentle tap on the neck: "Let me beat my belovedsauce-box, " said he: "is it thus you rally my watchful care over youfor your own good? But tell me, truly, Pamela, are you not a littlesullen? Look up to me, my dear. Are you not?"

"I believe I am; but 'tis but very little, Sir. It will soon gooff. Please to let me withdraw, that I may take myself to task aboutit;-for at present, I know not what to do, because I did not expectthe displeasure I have incurred. "

"Is it not the same thing, " replied he, "if this our first quarrel endhere, without your withdrawing?--I forgive you heartily, my Pamela;and give me one kiss, and I will think of your saucy appeal against meno more. "

"I will comply with your condition, Sir; but I have a great mind to besaucy. I wish you would let me for this once. "

"What would you say, my dearest?--Be saucy then, as you call it, assaucy as you can. "

"Why; then I _am_ a little sullen at present, that I am; and I am notfully 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 inthis 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 moredelicate than otherwise I should be; and you have inured me so much toa faultless conduct, that I can hardly bear with natural infirmitiesfrom you. --But, " giving me another tap, "get you gone; I leave you toyour recollection; and let me know what fruits it produces: for I mustnot be put off with a half-compliance; I must have your whole willwith 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 afavourite point: for I shed many tears, because my heart was set uponit. 

And so, my dear parents, twenty charming ideas and pleasures I hadformed to myself, are vanished from me, and my measures are quitebroken. But after my heart was relieved by my eye, I was lighter andeasier. 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 yourkindly-offered enquiries are needless, I believe. 

'Tis well for our sex in general, that there are not many husbands whodistinguish thus nicely. For, I doubt, there are but very few so wellentitled to their ladies' observances as Mr. B. Is to mine, and whowould act so generously and so tenderly by a wife as he does, in everymaterial 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 parents, yourhappy, as well as your dutiful daughter_, P. B. 

LETTER XLVIII

_From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. _

My Dear Pamela, I have sent you a present, the completest I could procure, of everything that may suit your approaching happy circumstance; as I hopeit will be to you, and to us all: but it is with a hope annexed, thatalthough both sexes are thought of in it, you will not put us off witha girl: no, child, we will not permit you, may we have our wills, to_think_ of giving us a girl, till you have presented us with half adozen fine boys. For our line is gone so low, we expect thathuman security from you in your first seven years, or we shall bedisappointed. 

I will now give you their names, if my brother and you approve ofthem: your first shall be BILLY; my Lord Davers, and the Earl ofC----, godfathers; and it must be doubly godmothered too, or I amafraid the countess and I shall fall out about it. Your second DAVERS;be sure remember that. --Your third, CHARLEY; your fourth, JEMMY; yourfifth, HARRY; your sixth--DUDLEY, if you will--and your girl, if youhad not rather call it PAMELA, shall be called BARBARA. --The rest nameas you please. --And so, my dear, I wish all seven happily over withyou. 

I am glad you got safe to town: and long to hear of Miss Darnford'sarrival, because I know you'll be out of your bias in your newsettlement till then. She is a fine lady, and writes the most to mytaste of any one of her sex that I know, next to you. I wish she'd beso kind as to correspond with me. But be sure don't omit to give methe sequel of her sister's and Murray's affair, and what you thinkwill please me in relation to her. -You do well to save yourselfthe trouble of describing the town and the public places. We are nostrangers to them; and they are too much our table talk, whenany country lady has for the first time been carried to town, andreturned: besides, what London affords, is nothing that deservesmention, compared to what we have seen at Paris and at Versailles, andother of the French palaces. You exactly, therefore, hit our tastes, and answer our expectations, when you give us, in your peculiarmanner, sentiments on what we may call the _soul of things_, and suchcharacters as you draw with a pencil borrowed from the hand of nature, intermingled with those fine lights and shades of reflections andobservations, that make your pictures glow, and instruct as well asdelight. 

There, Pamela, is encouragement for you to proceed in obliging us. Weare all of one mind in this respect; and more than ever, since we haveseen your actions so well answered to your writings; and that theoryand practice, as to every excellence that can adorn a lady, is thesame thing with you. 

We are pleased with your lawyers' characters. There are life andnature in them; but never avoid giving all that occur to you, for thatseems to be one of your talents; and in the ugliest, there will bematter of instruction; especially as you seem naturally to fall uponsuch as are so general, that no one who converses, but must see inthem the picture of one or other he is acquainted with. 

By this time, perhaps, Miss Darnford will be with you. --Our respectsto her, if so. --And you will have been at some of the theatricalentertainments: so will not want subjects to oblige us. --'Twas a goodthought 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 fashionof every thing in them. -Tell him, I love him better and better. Iam proud of my brother, and do nothing but talk of what a charminghusband he makes. But then, he gives an example to all who know him, and his uncontrollable temper (which makes against many of us), that it is possible for a good wife to make even a bad man a worthyhusband: and this affords an instruction, which may stand all our sexin good stead. --But then they must have been cautious first, to choosea man of natural good sense, and good manners, and not a brutal orabandoned debauchee. 

But hark-ye-me, my sweet girl, what have I done, that you won't writeyourself _sister_ to me? I could find in my heart to be angry withyou. Before my last visit, I was scrupulous to subscribe myself soto _you_. But since I have seen myself so much surpassed in everyexcellence, that I would take pleasure in the name, you assume a pridein your turn, and may think it under-valuing yourself, to call _me_so--Ay, that's the thing, I doubt--Although I have endeavoured byseveral regulations since my return (and the countess, too, keepsyour example in distant view, as well as I), to be more worthy of theappellation. If, therefore, you would avoid the reproaches of secretpride, under the shadow of so remarkable an humility, for the futurenever omit subscribing as I do, with great pleasure, _your trulyaffectionate sister and friend_, B. DAVERS. 

I always take it for granted, that my worthy brother sends hisrespects to us; as you must, that Lord Davers, the Countess of C. AndJackey (who, as well as his uncle, talks of nothing else but you), send theirs; and so unnecessary compliments will be always excludedour correspondence. 

LETTER XLIX

_In answer to the preceding. _

How you overwhelm me with your goodness, my dearest lady, in everyword of your last welcome letter, is beyond my power to express I Hownobly has your ladyship contrived, in your ever-valued present, toencourage a doubting and apprehensive mind! And how does it contributeto my joy and my glory, that I am deemed by the noble sister ofmy best beloved, not wholly unworthy of being the humble means tocontinue, and, perhaps, to perpetuate, a family so ancient and sohonourable!

When I contemplate this, and look upon what I was--How shall I expressa sense of the honour done me!--And when, reading over the otherengaging particulars in your ladyship's letter, I come to the lastcharming paragraph, I am doubly affected to see myself seeminglyupbraided, but so politely emboldened to assume an appellation, thatotherwise I hardly dared. 

I--_humble_ I--who never had a sister before--to find one now inLady Davers! O Madam, you, and _only_ you, can teach me words fit toexpress the joy and the gratitude that filled my delighted heart!--Butthus much I am taught, that there is some thing more than the low-borncan imagine in birth and education. This is so evident in yourladyship's actions, words, and manner, that it strikes one with abecoming reverence; and we look up with awe to a condition we emulatein vain, when raised by partial favour, like what I have found; andare confounded when we see grandeur of soul joined with grandeurof birth and condition; and a noble lady acting thus nobly, as LadyDavers acts. 

My best wishes, and a thousand blessings, attend your ladyship in allyou undertake! And I am persuaded the latter will, and a peace andsatisfaction of mind incomparably to be preferred to whatever elsethis world can afford, in the new regulations, which you, and my dearlady countess, have set on foot in your families: and when I can havethe happiness to know what they are, I shall, I am confident, greatlyimprove my own methods by them. 

Were we to live for ever in this life, we might be careless andindifferent about these matters: but when such an uncertainty as tothe time, and such a certainty as to the event is before us, a prudentmind will be always preparing, till prepared; and what can be a betterpreparative, than charitable actions to our fellow-creatures in theeye of that Majesty, which wants nothing of us himself, but to do justthe merciful things to one another. 

Pardon me, my dearest lady, for this my free style. Methinks I am outof myself! I know not how to descend all at once from the height towhich you have raised me: and you must forgive the reflections towhich you yourself and your own noble actions have given birth. 

Here, having taken respite a little, I naturally sink into _body_again. --And will not your ladyship confine your expectations fromme within narrower limits?--For, O, I cannot even with my wishes, so swiftly follow your expectations, if such they are! But, however, leaving futurity to HIM, who only governs futurity, and who conductsus all, and our affairs, as shall best answer his own divine purposes, I will proceed as well as I can, to obey you in those articles, whichare, at present, more within my own power. 

My dear Miss Darnford, then, let me acquaint your ladyship, arrived onThursday last: she had given us notice, by a line, of the day she setout; and Sir Simon and Lady Darnford saw her ten miles on the wayto the stage coach in Sir Simon's coach, Mr. Murray attending her onhorseback. 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) asa high favour from her papa and mamma; who, however, charge her not toexceed a month in and out, which I regret much. Mr. B. Kindly proposedto 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 waspleased to say, it would not be too fatiguing to me; and we would goso early, as to dine at St. Alban's. I gladly consented, and we gotthither about one o'clock; and while dinner was preparing, he waspleased to shew me the great church there, and the curious vault ofthe good Duke of Gloucester, and also the monument of the great LordChancellor Bacon in St. Michael's church; all which, no doubt, yourladyship has seen. 

There happened to be six passengers in the stage coach, includingMiss Darnford and her maid; she was exceeding glad to be relieved fromthem, though the weather was cold enough, two of the passengers beingnot very agreeable company, one a rough military man, and the other apositive humoursome old gentlewoman: and the others two sisters--"whojangled now and then, " said she, "as much as _my_ sister, and mysister's _sister_. "

Judge how joyful this meeting was to us both. Mr. B. Was no lessdelighted, and said, he was infinitely obliged to Sir Simon for thisprecious trust. 

"I come with double pleasure, " said she, "to see the greatestcuriosity in England, a husband and wife, who have not, in so manymonths as you have been married, if I may believe report, and yourletters, Mrs. B. , once repented. "

"You are severe, Miss Darnford, " replied Mr. B. , "upon people in themarried state: I hope there are many such instances. "

"There might, if there were more such husbands as Mr. B. Makes. --Ihated 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 it be this good girl; for it is all owing to her conduct anddirection, that I make a tolerable husband: were there more suchwives, I am persuaded, there would be more such husbands than thereare. "

"You see, my dear, " said I, "what it is to be wedded to a generousman. Mr. B. , by his noble treatment of me, creates a merit in me, anddisclaims the natural effects of his own goodness. "

"Well, you're a charming couple--person and mind. I know not anyequal either of you have. --But, Mr. B. , I will not compliment you toohighly. I may make _you_ proud, for men are saucy creatures; butI cannot make your _lady_ so: and in this doubt of the one, andconfidence in the other, I must join with you, that her merit is thegreatest. --Since, excuse me, Sir, her example has reformed her rake;and you have only confirmed in her the virtues you found ready formedto your hand. "

"That distinction, " said Mr. B. , "is worthy of Miss Darnford'sjudgment. "

"My dearest Miss Darnford--my dearest Mr. B. , " said I, laying my handupon the hand of each, "how can you go on thus!--As I look upon everykind thing, two such dear friends say of me, as incentives for meto endeavour to deserve it, you must not ask me too high; for then, instead of encouraging, you'll make me despair. "

He led us into the coach; and in a free, easy, joyful manner, not inthe 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, mydear friend is highly pleased. 

But the dear lady put me into some little confusion, when she saw mefirst, taking notice of my _improvements_, as she called them, beforeMr. B. I looked at him and her with a downcast eye. He smiled, andsaid, "Would you, my good Miss Darnford, look so silly, after such alength of time, with a husband you need not be ashamed of?"

"No, indeed, Sir, not I, I'll assure you; nor will I forgive thosemaiden airs in a wife so happy as you are. "

I said nothing. But I wished myself, in mind and behaviour, to be justwhat Miss Darnford is. 

But, my dear lady, Miss Darnford has had those early advantages fromconversation, which I had not; and so must never expect to know how todeport myself with that modest freedom and ease, which I know I want, and shall always want, although some of my partial favourers thinkI do not. For I am every day more and more sensible of the greatdifference there is between being used to the politest conversation asan inferior, and being born to bear a part in it: in the one, all isset, stiff, awkward, and the person just such an ape of imitation aspoor I; in the other, all is natural ease and sweetness--like MissDarnford. 

Knowing this, I don't indeed aim at what I am sensible I cannotattain; and so, I hope, am less exposed to censure than I should be ifI did. For, I have heard Mr. B. Observe with regard to gentlemen whobuild fine houses, make fine gardens, and open fine prospects, thatart should never take place of, but be subservient to, nature; and agentleman, if confined to a situation, had better conform his designsto that, than to do as at Chatsworth, level a mountain at a monstrousexpense; which, had it been suffered to remain, in so wild andromantic a scene as Chatsworth affords, might have been made one ofthe greatest beauties of the place. 

So I think I had better endeavour to make the best of those naturaldefects I cannot master, than, by assuming airs and dignities inappearance, to which I was not born, act neither part tolerably. Bythis means, instead of being thought neither gentlewoman nor rustic, as Sir Jacob hinted (_linsey-wolsey_, I think was his term too), I maybe looked upon as an original in my way; and all originals pass wellenough, you know, Madam, even with judges. 

Now I am upon this subject, I can form to myself, if your ladyshipwill excuse me, two such polite gentlemen as my lawyers mentioned inmy former, who, with a true London magnanimity and penetration (for, Madam, I fancy your London critics will be the severest upon thecountry girl), will put on mighty significant looks, forgetting, itmay be, that they have any faults themselves, and apprehending thatthey have nothing to do, but to sit in judgment upon others, one ofthem expressing himself after this manner--"Why, truly, Jack, the girlis well enough--_considering_--I can't say--" (then a pinch of snuff, perhaps, adds importance to his air)--"but a man might love her for amonth or two. " (These sparks talked thus of other ladies before me. )"She behaves better than I expected from her--_considering_--" againwill follow. 

"So I think, " cries the other, and tosses his tie behind him, with anair partly of contempt, and partly of rakery. 

"As you say. Jemmy, I expected to find an awkward country girl, butshe tops her part, I'll assure you!--Nay, for that matter, behavesvery tolerably for _what she was_--And is right, not to seem desirousto drown the remembrance of her original in her elevation--And, Ican't but say" (for something like it he did say), "is mighty pretty, and passably genteel. " And thus with their poor praise of Mr. B. 'sgirl, they think they have made a fine compliment to his judgment. 

But for _his_ sake (for as to my own, I am not solicitous about suchgentlemen's good opinions), I owe them a spite; and believe, I shallfind an opportunity to come out of their debt. For I have the vanityto think, now you have made me proud by your kind encouragements andapprobation, that the country girl will make 'em look about them, withall their _genteel contempts_, which they miscall _praise_. 

But how I run on! Your ladyship expects that I shall write as freelyto you as I used to do to my parents. I have the merit of obeying you, that I have; but, I doubt, too much to the exercise of your patience. 

This (like all mine) is a long letter; and I will only add to itMiss Darnford's humble respects, and thanks for your ladyship's kindmention of her, which she receives as no small honour. 

And now. Madam, with a greater pleasure than I can express, will Imake use of the liberty you so kindly allow me to take, of subscribingmyself with that profound respect which becomes me, _your ladyship'smost obliged sister, and obedient servant, _ P. B. 

Mr. Adams, Mr. Longman, and Mrs. Jervis, are just arrived; and ourhousehold is now complete. 

LETTER L

_From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. _

MY DEAR PAMELA, After I have thanked you for your last agreeable letter, which hasadded the Earl and Lady Jenny to the number of your admirers (you knowLady Betty, her sister, was so before), I shall tell you, that I nowwrite, at their requests, as well as at those of my Lord Davers, thecountess you so dearly love, and Lady Betty, for your decision ofan odd dispute, that, on reading your letter, and talking of yourdomestic excellencies, happened among us. 

Lady Betty says, that, notwithstanding any awkwardness you attributeto yourself, she cannot but decide, by all she has seen of yourwritings, and heard from us, that yours is the perfectest charactershe ever found in the sex. 

The countess said, that you wrong yourself in supposing you are notevery thing that is polite and genteel, as well in your behaviour, asin your person; and that she knows not any lady in England who betterbecomes her station than you do. 

"Why, then, " said Lady Jenny, "Mrs. B. Must be quite perfect:that's certain. " So said the earl; so said they all. And Lord Daversconfirmed that you were. 

Yet, as we are sure, there cannot be such a character in this lifeas has not one fault, although we could not tell where to fix it, thecountess made a whimsical motion: "Lady Davers, " said she, "pray doyou write to Mrs. B. And acquaint her with our subject; and as itis impossible, for one who can act as she does, not to know herselfbetter than any body else can do, desire her to acquaint us with someof those secret foibles, that leave room for her to be still moreperfect. "

"A good thought, " said they all. And this is the present occasion ofmy writing; and pray see that you accuse yourself, of no more than youknow yourself guilty: for over-modesty borders nearly on pride, andtoo liberal self-accusations are generally but so many traps foracquittal with applause: so that (whatever other ladies might) youwill not be forgiven, if you deal with us in a way so poorly artful;let your faults, therefore, be such as you think we can subscribe to, from what we have _seen_ of _you_ and what we have _read_ of _yours_;and you must try to extenuate them too, as you give them, lest weshould think you above that nature, which, in the _best_ cases, isyour undoubted talent. 

I congratulate you and Miss Damford on her arrival: she is a charmingyoung lady; but tell her, that we shall not allow her to take you atyour word, and to think that she excels you in any one thing: only, indeed, we think you nicer in some points than you need be to, as toyour present agreeable circumstance. And yet, let me tell you, thatthe easy, unaffected, conjugal purity, in word and behaviour, betweenyour good man and you, is worthy of imitation, and what the countessand I have with pleasure contemplated since we left you, an hundredtimes, and admire in you both: and it is good policy too, child, as well as high decorum; for it is what will make you ever new andrespectful to one another. 

But _you_ have the honour of it all, whose sweet, natural, and easymodesty, in person, behaviour, and conversation, forbid indecency, even in thought, much more in word, to approach you: insomuch that norakes can be rakes in your presence, and yet they hardly know to whatthey owe their restraint. 

However, as people who see you at this time, will take it for grantedthat you and Mr. B. Have been very intimate together, I should thinkyou need not be ashamed of your appearance, because, as he rightlyobserves, you have no reason to be ashamed of your husband. 

Excuse my pleasantry, my dear: and answer our demand upon you, as soonas you can; which will oblige us all; particularly _your affectionatesister_, B. DAVERS. 

LETTER LI

MY DEAREST LADY, What a task have you imposed upon me! And according to the terms youannex to it, how shall I acquit myself of it, without incurring thecensure of affectation, if I freely accuse myself as I may deserve, orof vanity, if I do not? Indeed, Madam, I have a great many failings:and you don't know the pain it costs me to keep them under; not somuch for fear the world should see them, for I bless God, I can hopethey are not capital, as for fear they should become capital, if Iwere to let them grow upon me. 

And this, surely, I need not have told your ladyship, and the Countessof C. , who have read my papers, and seen my behaviour in the kindvisit you made to your dear brother, and had from _both_ but too muchreason to censure me, did not your generous and partial favour makeyou overlook my greater failings, and pass under a kinder name manyof my lesser; for surely, my good ladies, you must both of you haveobserved, in what you have read and seen, that I am naturally of asaucy temper: and with all my appearance of meekness and humility, canresent, and sting too, when I think myself provoked. 

I have also discovered in myself, on many occasions (of some of whichI will by-and-by remind your ladyship), a malignancy of heart, that, it is true, lasts but a little while--nor had it need--but for which Ihave often called myself to account--to very little purpose hitherto. 

And, indeed, Madam (now for a little extenuation, as you expect fromme), I have some difficulty, whether I ought to take such pains tosubdue myself in some instances, in the station to which I am raised, that otherwise it would have become me to attempt to do: for it isno easy task, for one in my circumstances, to distinguish between the_ought_ and the _ought_ not; to be humble without meanness, and decentwithout arrogance. And if all persons thought as justly as I flattermyself I do, of the inconveniences, as well as conveniences, whichattend their being raised to a condition above them, they wouldnot imagine all the world was their own, when they came to bedistinguished as I have been: for, what with the contempts of superiorrelations on one side, the envy of the world, and low reflectionsarising from it, on the other, from which no one must hope to betotally exempted, and the awkwardness, besides, with which theysupport their elevated condition, if they have sense to judge oftheir own imperfections; and if the gentleman be not such an one asmine--(and where will such another be found?)--On all these accounts, Isay, they will be made sensible, that, whatever they might once think, happiness and an high estate are two very different things. 

But I shall be too grave, when your ladyship, and all my kind andnoble friends, expect, perhaps, I should give the uncommon subject apleasanter air: yet what must that mind be, that is not serious, whenobliged to recollect, and give account of its defects?

But I must not only accuse myself, it seems, I must give _proofs_, such as your ladyship can subscribe to, of my imperfections. There isso much _real kindness_ in this _seeming hardship_, that I willobey you. Madam, and produce proofs in a moment, which cannot becontroverted. 

As to my _sauciness_, those papers will give an hundred instancesagainst me, as well to your dear brother, as to others. Indeed, toextenuate, as you command me, as I go along, these were mostly when Iwas apprehensive for my honour, they were. 

And then, I have a little tincture of _jealousy_, which sometimes hasmade me more uneasy than I ought to be, as the papers you have notseen would have demonstrated, particularly in Miss Godfrey's case, and in my conversation with your ladyships, in which I have frequentlybetrayed my fears of what might happen when in London: yet, toextenuate again, I have examined myself very strictly on this head;and really think, that I can ascribe a great part of this jealousy tolaudable motives; no less than to my concern for your dear brother'sfuture happiness, in the hope, that I may be a humble means, throughProvidence, to induce him to abhor those crimes of which younggentlemen too often are guilty, and bring him over to the practice ofthose virtues, in which he will ever have cause to rejoice. --Yet, mylady, some other parts of the charge must stand against me; for asI love his person, as well as his mind, I have pride in my jealousy, that would not permit me, I verily think, to support myself as Iought, under trial of a competition, in this very tender point. 

And this obliges me to own, that I have a little spark--not a littleone, perhaps of _secret pride_ and _vanity_, that will arise, now andthen, on the honours done me; but which I keep under as much as Ican; and to this pride, let me tell your ladyship, I know no onecontributes, or can contribute, more largely than yourself. 

So you see, my dear lady, what a naughty heart I have, and how farI am from being a faultless creature--I hope I shall be better andbetter, however, as I live longer, and have more grace, and morewit: for here to recapitulate my faults, is in the first place, _vindictiveness_, I will not call it downright revenge--And how muchroom do all these leave for amendment, and greater perfection?

Had your ladyship, and the countess, favoured us longer in your kindvisit, I must have so improved, by your charming conversations, andby that natural ease and dignity which accompany everything yourladyships do and say, as to have got over such of these foibles asare not rooted in nature: till in time I had been able to do more thanemulate those perfections, which at present, I can only at an awfuldistance revere; as becomes, _my dear ladies, your most humbleadmirer, and obliged servant_, P. B. 

 * * * * *

LETTER LII

_From Miss Darnford to her Father and Mother_. 

MY EVER-HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA, I arrived safely in London on Thursday, after a tolerable journey, considering Deb and I made six in the coach (two having been taken upon the way, after you left me), and none of the six highly agreeable. Mr. B. And his lady, who looks very stately upon us (from thecircumstance of _person_, rather than of _mind_, however), were sogood as to meet me at St. Alban's, in their coach and six. They have afine house here, richly furnished in every part, and have allotted methe best apartment in it. 

We are happy beyond expression. Mr. B. Is a charming husband; so easy, so pleased with, and so tender of his lady: and she so much all thatwe saw her in the country, as to humility and affability, and improvedin every thing else which we hardly thought possible she couldbe--that I never knew so happy a matrimony. --All that _prerogativesauciness_, which we apprehended would so eminently display itself inhis behaviour to his wife, had she been ever so distinguished by birthand fortune, is vanished. I did not think it was in the power of anangel, if our sex could have produced one, to have made so tender andso fond a husband of Mr. B. As he makes. And should I have the senseto follow Mrs. B. 's example, if ever I marry, I should not despair ofmaking myself happy, let it be to whom it would, provided he was not abrute, nor sordid in his temper; which two characters are too obviousto be concealed, if persons take due care, and make proper inquiries, and if they are not led by blind passion. May Mr. Murray and MissNancy make just such a happy pair!

You commanded me, my honoured mamma, to write to you an account ofevery thing that pleased me--I said I would: but what a task shouldI then have!--I did not think I had undertaken to write volumes. --Youmust therefore allow me to be more brief than I had intended. 

In the first place, it would take up five or six long letters to dojustice to the economy observed in this happy family. You know thatMrs. B. Has not changed one of her servants, and only added her Pollyto them. This is an unexampled thing, especially as they were her_fellow-servants_ as we may say: but since they have the sense toadmire so good an example, and are proud to follow it, each to his andher power, I think it one of her peculiar facilities to have continuedthem, and to choose to reform such as were exceptionable rather thandismiss them. 

Their mouths, Deb tells me, are continually full of their lady'spraises, and prayers, and blessings, uttered with such delight andfervour for the happy pair, that it makes her eyes, she says, ready torun over to hear them. 

Moreover, I think it an extraordinary degree of policy (whetherdesigned or not) to keep them, as they were all worthy folks; for hadshe turned them off, what had she done but made as many enemies asshe had discarded servants; and as many more as those had friends andacquaintance? And we all know, how much the reputation of familieslies at the mercy of servants; and it is easy to guess to what causeeach would have imputed his or her dismission. And so she has escaped, as she ought, the censure of pride; and made every one, instead ofreproaching her with her descent, find those graces in her, which turnthat very disadvantage to her glory. 

She is exceedingly affable; always speaks to them with a smile;but yet has such a dignity in her manner, that it secures her theirrespect and reverence; and they are ready to fly at a look, and seemproud to have her commands to execute; insomuch, that the words--"_Mylady commands so, or so, _" from one servant to another, are sure tomeet with an indisputable obedience, be the duty required what itwill. 

If any of them are the least indisposed, her care and tenderness forthem engage the veneration and gratitude of all the rest, who see howkindly they will be treated, should they ail any thing themselves. And in all this she is very happy in Mrs. Jervis, who is an excellentsecond to her admirable lady; and is treated by her with as muchrespect and affection, as if she was her mother. 

You may remember, Madam, that in the account she gave us of her_benevolent round_, as Lady Davers calls it, she says, that as shewas going to London, she should instruct Mrs. Jervis about some ofher _clients_, as I find she calls her poor, to avoid a word whichher delicacy accounts harsh with regard to them, and ostentatiouswith respect to herself. I asked her, how (since, contrary to her thenexpectation, Mrs. Jervis was permitted to be in town with her) she hadprovided to answer her intention as to those her clients, whom she hadreferred to the care of that good woman?

She said, that Mr. Barlow, her apothecary, was a very worthy man, andshe had given him a plenary power in that particular, and likewisedesired him to recommend any new and worthy case to her that nodeserving person among the destitute sick poor, might be unrelieved byreason of her absence. 

And here in London she has applied herself to Dr. ----(her parishminister, a fine preacher, and sound divine, who promises on allopportunities to pay his respects to Mr. B. ) to recommend to herany poor housekeepers, who would be glad to accept of some privatebenefactions, and yet, having lived creditably, till reduced bymisfortunes, are ashamed to apply for public relief: and she hasseveral of these already on her _benevolent list_, to some of whom shesends coals now at the entrance on the wintry season, to some a pieceof Irish or Scottish linen, or so many yards of Norwich stuff, forgowns and coats for the girls, or Yorkshire cloth for the boys; andmoney to some, who she is most assured will lay it out with care. Andshe has moreover _mortified_, as the Scots call it, one hundred andfifty pounds as a fund for loans, without interest, of five, ten, or fifteen, but not exceeding twenty pounds, to answer some presentexigence in some honest families, who find the best security they can, to repay it in a given time; and this fund, she purposes, as she growsricher, she says, to increase; and estimates pleasantly her worth bythis sum, saying sometimes, "Who would ever have thought I should havebeen worth one hundred and fifty pounds so soon? I shall be a richbody in time. " But in all these things, she enjoins secresy, which thedoctor has promised. 

She told the doctor what Mr. Adams's office is in her family; andhoped, she said, he would give her his sanction to it; assuring him, that she thought it her duty to ask it, as she was one of hisflock, and he, on that account, her principal shepherd, which made aspiritual relation between them, the requisites of which, on her part, were not to be dispensed with. The good gentleman very cheerfullyand applaudingly gave his consent; and when she told him how well Mr. Adams was provided for, and that she would apply to him to supply herwith a town chaplain, when she was deprived of him, he wished that theother duties of his function (for he has a large parish) would permithim to be the happy person himself, saying, that till she was suppliedto her mind, either he or his curate would take care that so laudablea method should be kept up. 

You will do me the justice, Madam, to believe, that I very cheerfullyjoin in my dear friend's Sunday duties; and I am not a little edified, with the good example, and the harmony and good-will that thisexcellent method preserves in the family. 

I must own I never saw such a family of love in my life: for here, under the eye of the best of mistresses, they twice every Sunday seeone another all together (as they used to do in the country), superioras well as inferior servants; and Deb tells me, after Mrs. B. And Iare withdrawn, there are such friendly salutations among them, thatshe never heard the like--"Your servant, good Master Longman:"--"Yourservant, Master Colbrand, " cries one and another:--"How do you, John?"--"I'm glad to see you, Abraham!"--"All blessedly met oncemore!" cries Jonathan, the venerable butler, with his silver hairs, asMrs. B. Always distinguishes him:--"Good Madam Jervis, " cries another, "you look purely this blessed day, thank God!" And they returnto their several vocations, so light, so easy, so pleased, soeven-tempered in their minds, as their cheerful countenances, as wellas expressions, testify, that it is a heaven of a house: and beingwound up thus constantly once a week, at least, like a good eight-dayclock, no piece of machinery that ever was made is so regular anduniform as this family is. 

What an example does this dear lady set to all who see her, know her, and who hear of her; how happy they who have the grace to followit! What a public blessing would such a mind as hers be, could it bevested with the robes of royalty, and adorn the sovereign dignity! Butwhat are the princes of the earth, look at them in every nation, andwhat they have been for ages past, compared to this lady? who actsfrom the impulses of her own heart, unaided in most cases, byany human example. In short, when I contemplate her innumerableexcellencies, and that sweetness of temper, and universal benevolence, which shine in every thing she says and does, I cannot sometimes helplooking upon her in the light of an angel, dropped down from heaven, and received into bodily organs, to live among men and women, in orderto shew what the first of the species was designed to be. 

And, here, is the admiration, that one sees all these duties performedin such an easy and pleasant manner, as any body may perform them; forthey interfere not with any parts of the family management; but ratheraid and inspirit every one in the discharge of all their domesticservices; and, moreover, keep their minds in a state of preparationfor the more solemn duties of the day; and all without the leastintermixture of affectation, enthusiasm, or ostentation. O my dearpapa and mamma, permit me but to tarry here till I am perfect in allthese good lessons, and how happy shall I be!

As to the town, and the diversions of it, I shall not trouble you withany accounts, as, from your former thorough knowledge of both, youwill want no information about them; for, generally speaking, allwho reside constantly in London, allow, that there is little otherdifference in the diversions of one winter and another, than suchas are in clothes; a few variations of the fashions only, which aremostly owing to the ingenious contrivances of persons who are to gettheir bread by diversifying them. 

Mrs. B. Has undertaken to give Lady Davers an account of the mattersas they pass, and her sentiments on what she sees. There must besomething new in her observations, because she is a stranger to thesediversions, and unbiassed entirely by favour or prejudice; and so willnot play the partial critic, but give to a beauty its due praise, andto a fault its due censure, according to that truth and nature whichare the unerring guides of her actions as well as sentiments. These Iwill transcribe for you; and you'll be so good as to return them whenperused, because I will lend them, as I used to do her letters, to hergood parents; and so I shall give her a pleasure at the same time inthe accommodating them with the knowledge of all that passes, whichshe makes it a point of duty to do, because they take delight in herwritings. 

My papa's observation, that a woman never takes a journey but sheforgets something, is justified by me; for, with all my care, I haveleft my diamond buckle, which Miss Nancy will find in the inner tillof my bureau, wrapt up in cotton; and I beg it may be sent me by thefirst opportunity. With my humble duty to you both, my dearindulgent papa and mamma, thanks for the favour I now rejoice in, andaffectionate respects to Miss Nancy (I wish she would love me aswell as I love her), and service to Mr. Murray, and all our goodneighbours, conclude _me your dutiful, and highly-favoured daughter_, M. DARNFORD. 

Mr. B. And Mrs. B, desire their compliments of congratulation to Mr. And Mrs. Peters, on the marriage of their worthy niece; also to yourhonoured selves they desire their kind respects and thanks for theloan of your worthless daughter. I experience every hour some newtoken of their politeness and affection; and I make no scrupleto think I am with such a brother, and such a sister as any happycreature may rejoice in, and be proud of. Mr. B. I cannot but repeat, is a charming husband, and a most polite gentleman. His lady is alwaysaccusing herself to me of awkwardness and insufficiency; but not asoul who sees her can find it out; she is all genteel ease; and theadmiration of every one who beholds her. Only I tell her, with suchhappiness in possession, she is a little of the gravest sometimes. 

LETTER LIII

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers. _

MY GOOD LADY, You command me to acquaint you with the proceedings between Mr. Murrayand Miss Nanny Darnford: and Miss Polly makes it easy for me to obeyyou in this particular, and in very few words; for she says, everything was adjusted before she came away, and the ceremony, shebelieves, may be performed by this time. She rejoices that she wasout of the way of it: for, she says, love is so awkward a thing toMr. Murray, and good-humour so uncommon an one to Miss Nancy, that shehopes she shall never see such another courtship. 

We have been at the play-house several time; and, give me leave tosay, Madam, (for I have now read as well as seen several), that Ithink the stage, by proper regulations, might be made a profitableamusement. --But nothing more convinces one of the truth of the commonobservation, that the best things, corrupted, prove the worst, thanthese representations. The terror and compunction for evil deeds, the compassion for a just distress, and the general beneficence whichthose lively exhibitions are so capable of raising in the human mind, might be of great service, when directed to right ends, and induced byproper motives: particularly where the actions which the catastropheis designed to punish, are not set in such advantageous lights, asshall destroy the end of the moral, and make the vice that ought to becensured, imitable; where instruction is kept in view all the way, andwhere vice is punished, and virtue rewarded. 

But give me leave to say, that I think there is hardly one play Ihave seen, or read hitherto, but has too much of love in it, as thatpassion is generally treated. How unnatural in some, how inflaming inothers, are the descriptions of it!--In most, rather rant and fury, like the loves of the fiercer brute animals, as Virgil, translatedby Dryden, describes them, than the soft, sighing, fearfully hopefulmurmurs, that swell the bosoms of our gentler sex: and the respectful, timorous, submissive complainings of the other, when the truth of thepassion humanizes, as one may say, their more rugged hearts. 

In particular, what strange indelicates do these writers of tragedyoften make of our sex! They don't enter into the passion at all, if Ihave 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 toraise a whirlwind, as I may say, which sweeps down reason, religion, and decency; and carries every laudable duty away before it; so thatall the examples can serve to shew is, how a disappointed lover mayrage and storm, resent and revenge. 

The play I first saw was the tragedy of _The Distressed Mother;_ and agreat many beautiful things I think there are in it: but half of it isa tempestuous, cruel, ungoverned rant of passion, and ends incruelty, bloodshed, and desolation, which the truth of the storynot warranting, as Mr. B. Tells me, makes it the more pity, thatthe original author (for it is a French play, translated, you know, Madam), had not conducted it, since it was his choice, with lessterror, and with greater propriety, to the passions intended to beraised, and actually raised in many places. 

But the epilogue spoken after the play, by Mrs. Oldfield, in thecharacter of Andromache, was more shocking to me, than the mostterrible parts of the play; as by lewd and even senseless _doubleentendre_, it could be calculated only to efface all the tender, allthe virtuous sentiments, which the tragedy was designed to raise. 

The pleasure this gave the men was equally barbarous and insulting;all turning to the boxes, pit, and galleries, where ladies were, tosee how they looked, and stood an emphatical and too-well pronouncedridicule, not only upon the play in general, but upon the part ofAndromache in particular, which had been so well sustained by anexcellent actress; and I was extremely mortified to see my favourite(and the only perfect) character debased and despoiled, and the widowof Hector, prince of Troy, talking nastiness to an audience, andsetting it out with all the wicked graces of action, and affectedarchness of look, attitude, 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 shockedby the madness of Orestes! Is it for this? See you not Hector'swidow, 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 withthis vile epilogue, after such scenes of horror and distress?"

He was pleased to say, smiling, "I expected, my dear, that yourdelicacy, and Miss Darnford's too, would be shocked on thispreposterous occasion. I never saw this play, rake as I was, but theimpropriety of the epilogue sent me away dissatisfied with it, andwith human nature too: and you only see, by this one instance, what acharacter that of an actor or actress is, and how capable they are topersonate any thing for a sorry subsistence. "

"Well, but, Sir, " said I, "are there not, think you, extravagantscenes and characters enough in most plays to justify the censuresof the virtuous upon them, that the wicked friend of the author mustcrown the work in an epilogue, for fear the audience should go awayimproved by the representation? It is not, I see, always narrowness ofspirit, as I have heard some say, that opens the mouths of good peopleagainst these diversions. "

In this wild way talked I; for I was quite out of patience at thisunnatural and unexpected piece of ridicule, tacked to so serious aplay, and coming after such a moral. 

Here is a specimen, my dear lady, of my observations on the firstplay I saw. How just or how impertinent, I must leave to your betterjudgment. I very probably expose my ignorance and folly in them, but Iwill not say presumption, because you have put me upon the task, whichotherwise I should hardly have attempted. I have very little reasontherefore to blame myself on this score; but, on the contrary, if Ican escape your ladyship's censure, have cause to pride myself in theopportunity you have thereby given me to shew my readiness to obeyyou; and the rather, since I am sure of your kindest indulgence, now you have given me leave to style myself _your ladyship's obligedsister, and humble servant, _

P. B. 

LETTER LIV

MY DEAR LADY, I gave you in my last my bold remarks upon a TRAGEDY-_The DistressedMother_. I will now give you my shallow notions of a COMEDY--_TheTender Husband_. 

I liked this part of the title; though I was not pleased with theother, explanatory of it; _Or--The Accomplished Fools_. But when Iheard it was written by Sir Richard Steele, and that Mr. Addison hadgiven some hints towards it, if not some characters--"O, dear Sir, "said I, "give us your company to this play; for the authors of theSpectator cannot possibly produce a faulty scene. "

Mr. B. Indeed smiled; for I had not then read the play: and the Earlof F. , his countess, Miss Darnford, Mr. B. And myself, agreed tomeet with a niece of my lord's in the stage-box, which was taken onpurpose. 

There seemed to me to be much wit and satire in the play: but, upon myword, I was grievously disappointed as to the morality of it; nor, in some places, is--_probability_ preserved; and there are diversspeeches so very free, that I could not have expected to meet withsuch, from the names I mentioned. 

In short the author seems to have forgotten the moral all the way; andbeing 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 hadproduced; and so put down what came uppermost, for the sake of custom, without much regard to propriety. And truly, I should think, thatthe play was begun with a design to draw more amiable characters, answerable to the title of _The Tender Husband_; but that the author, being carried away by the luxuriancy of a genius, which he had notthe heart to prune, on a general survey of the whole, distrustingthe propriety of that title, added the under one: with an OR, _TheAccomplished Fools_, in justice to his piece, and compliment to hisaudience. Had he called it _The Accomplished Knaves_, I would not havebeen angry at him, because there would have been more propriety in thetitle. 

I wish I could, for the sake of the authors, have praised every sceneof this play: I hoped to have reason for it. Judge then, my dearlady, my mortification, not to be able to say I liked above one, the _Painter's scene_, which too was out of time, being on thewedding-day; and am forced to disapprove of every character in it, andthe views of every one. I am, dear Madam, _your most obliged sisterand servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LV

My Dear Lady, Although I cannot tell how you received my observations on the tragedyof _The Distressed Mother_, and the comedy of _The Tender Husband_, yet will I proceed to give your ladyship my opinion of the opera I wasat last night. 

But what can I say, after mentioning what you so well know, the finescenes, the genteel and splendid company, the charming voices, anddelightful music?

If, Madam, one were all ear, and lost to every sense but that ofharmony, surely the Italian opera would be a transporting thing!--Butwhen one finds good sense, and instruction, and propriety, sacrificedto the charms of sound, what an unedifying, what a mere temporarydelight does it afford! For what does one carry home, but theremembrance of having been pleased so many hours by the mere vibrationof air, which, being but sound, you cannot bring away with you; andmust therefore enter the time passed in such a diversion, into theaccount of those blank hours, from which one has not reaped so much asone improving lesson?

Mr. B. Observes, that when once sound is preferred to sense, we shalldepart from all our own worthiness, and, at best, be but the apes, yea, the dupes, of those whom we may strive to imitate, but never canreach, much less excel. 

Mr. B. Says, sometimes, that this taste is almost the only good fruitour young nobility gather, and bring home from their foreign tours;and that he found the English nation much ridiculed on this score, bythose very people who are benefited by their depravity. And if thisbe the best, what must the other qualifications be, which they bringhome?--Yet every one does not return with so little improvement, it isto be hoped. 

But what can I say of an Italian opera?--For who can describe sound!Or what words shall be found to embody air? And when we return, andare asked our opinion of what we have seen or heard, we are only ableto answer, as I hinted above the scenery is fine, the companysplendid and genteel, the music charming for the time, the actionnot extraordinary, the language unintelligible, and, for all thesereasons--the instruction none at all. 

This is all the thing itself gives me room to say of the Italianopera; very probably, for want of a polite taste, and a knowledge ofthe language. 

In my next, I believe, I shall give you, Madam, my opinion of adiversion, which, I doubt, I shall like still less, and that is amasquerade; for I fear I shall not be excused going to one, althoughI have no manner of liking to it, especially in my present way. I am. Madam, _your ladyship's most obliged and faithful_ P. B. 

I must add another half sheet to this letter on the subject matterof it, the opera; and am sure you will not be displeased with theaddition. 

Mr. B. Coming up just as I had concluded my letter, asked me what wasmy subject? I told him I was giving your ladyship my notions of theItalian opera. "Let me see what they are, my dear; for this is asubject that very few of those who admire these performances, andfewer still of those who decry them, know any thing of. "

He read the above, and was pleased to commend it. "Operas, " said he, "are very sad things in England, to what they are in Italy; and thetranslations given of them abominable: and indeed, our language willnot do them justice. 

"Every nation, as you say, has its excellencies; and ours should notquit the manly nervous sense, which is the distinction of the Englishdrama. One play of our celebrated Shakespeare will give infinitelymore pleasure to a sensible mind than a dozen English-Italian operas. But, my dear, in Italy, they are quite another thing: and the sense isnot, as here, sacrificed so much to the sound, but that they are bothvery compatible. "

"Be pleased, Sir, to give me your observations on this head inwriting, and then I shall have something to send worthy of LadyDavers's acceptance. "

"I will, my dear;" and he took a pen, and wrote the inclosed; whichI beg your ladyship to return me; because I will keep it for myinstruction, if I should be led to talk of this subject in company. "Let my sister know, " said he, "that I have given myself no time tore-peruse what I have written. She will do well, therefore, to correctit, and return it to you. "

"In Italy, judges of operas are so far from thinking the drama orpoetical part of their operas nonsense, as the unskilled in Italianrashly conclude in England, that if the Libretto, as they call it, isnot approved, the opera, notwithstanding the excellence of the music, will be condemned. For the Italians justly determine, that the verymusic of an opera cannot be complete and pleasing, if the drama beincongruous, as I may call it, in its composition, because, in orderto please, it must have the necessary contrast of the grave and thelight, that is, the diverting equally blended through the whole. Ifthere be too much of the first, let the music be composed ever somasterly in that style, it will become heavy and tiresome; if thelatter prevail, it will surfeit with its levity: wherefore it is thepoet's business to adapt the words for this agreeable mixture: for themusic is but secondary, and subservient to the words; and if there bean artful contrast in the drama, there will be the same in the music, supposing the composer to be a skilful master. 

"Now, since in England, the practice has been to mutilate, curtail, and patch up a drama in Italian, in order to introduce favourite airs, selected from different authors, the contrast has always been brokenthereby, without every one's knowing the reason: and since ignorantmercenary prompters, though Italians, have been employed inhotch-potch, and in translating our dramas from Italian into English, how could such operas appear any other than incongruous nonsense?"

Permit me, dear Madam, to repeat my assurances, that I am, and mustever be, _your obliged sister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LVI

Well, now, my dear lady, I will give you my poor opinion of amasquerade, to which Mr. B. Persuaded me to accompany Miss Darnford;for, as I hinted in my former, I had a great indifference, or ratherdislike, to go, and Miss therefore wanted so powerful a second, to getme with her; because I was afraid the freedoms which I had heard wereused there, 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 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 youlike, and that you would have me appear in, and I will cheerfullyattend you. "

The habit Mr. B. Pitched upon was that of a Spanish Don, and it wellbefitted the majesty of his person and air; and Miss Darnford chosethat of a young Widow; and Mr. B. Recommended that of a Quaker forme. We all admired one another in our dresses; and Mr. B. Promising tohave me always in his eye, we went thither. 

But I never desire to be present at another. Mr. B. Was singled out bya bold Nun, who talked Italian to him with such free airs, that I didnot much like it, though I knew not what she said; for I thought thedear gentleman no more kept to his Spanish gravity, than she to therequisites of the habit she wore: when I had imagined that all thatwas tolerable in a masquerade, was the acting up to the character eachperson assumed: and this gave me no objection to the Quaker's dress;for I thought I was prim enough for that naturally. 

I said softly, "Dear Miss Darnford" (for Mr. B. And the Nun wereout of sight in a moment), "what is become of that Nun?"--"Rather, "whispered she, "what is become of the Spaniard?"

A Cardinal attacked me instantly in French; but I answered in English, not knowing what he said, "Quakers are not fit company for Red-hats. "

"They are, " said he, in the same language; "for a Quaker and a Jesuitis the same thing. "

Miss Darnford was addressed by the name of the Sprightly Widow:another asked, how long she intended to wear those weeds? And afootman, in a rich livery, answered for her eyes, through her mask, that it would not be a month. 

But I was startled when a Presbyterian Parson came up, and bid me lookafter my Musidorus--So that I doubted not by this, it must be one whoknew my name to be Pamela; and I soon thought of one of my lawyers, whose characters I gave before. 

Indeed, he needed not to bid me; for I was sorry, on more accountsthan that of my timorousness, to have lost sight of him. "Out uponthese nasty masquerades!" thought I; "I can't abide them already!"

An egregious beauish appearance came up to Miss, and said, "You hangout a very pretty _sign_, Widow. "

"Not, " replied she, "to invite such fops as you to my shop. "

"Any customer would be welcome, " returned he, "in my opinion. Iwhisper this as a secret. "

"And I whisper another, " said she, but not whisperingly, "that noplace warrants ill manners. "

"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. "Ihope, friend, thou art prepared with a father for the light withinthee?"

"Is this wit?" said I, turning to Miss Darnford: "I have enough ofthis diversion, where nothing but coarse jests appear _barefac'd_. "

At last Mr. B. Accosted us, as if he had not known us. "So lovely awidow, and so sweet a friend! no wonder you do not separate: for I seenot in this various assembly a third person of your sex fit to joinwith you. "

"Not _one_, Sir!" said I. "Will not a penitent Nun make a good thirdwith a mournful Widow, and a prim Quaker?"

"Not for more than ten minutes at most. "

Instantly the Nun, a fine person of a lady, with a noble air, though Idid 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 neitherMiss Darnford nor I understood that language, and Mr. B. Would notexplain it to us. 

But she gave him a signal to follow her, seeming to be much taken withhis person and air; for though there were three other Spanish habitsthere, he was called _The stately Spaniard_ by one, _The handsomeSpaniard_ by another, in our hearing, as he passed with us to thedessert, where we drank each of us a glass of Champaign, and eat afew sweetmeats, with a crowd about us; but we appeared not to knowone another: while several odd appearances, as one Indian Prince, oneChinese Mandarin, several Domino's, of both sexes, a Dutch Skipper, a Jewish Rabbi, a Greek Monk, a Harlequin, a Turkish Bashaw, andCapuchin Friar, glided by us, as we returned into company, signifying that we were strangers to them by squeaking out--"_I knowyou!_"--Which is half the wit of the place. 

Two ladies, one in a very fantastic party-coloured habit, with a plumeof feathers, the other in a rustic one, with a garland of flowersround her head, were much taken notice of for their freedom, andhaving something to say to every body. They were as seldom separatedas Miss Darnford and I, and were followed by a crowd wherever theywent. 

The party-coloured one came up to me: "Friend, " said she, "there issomething in thy person that attracts every one's notice: but if asack had not been a profane thing, it would have become thee almost aswell. "--"I thank thee, friend, " said I, "for thy counsel; but if thouhadst been pleased to look at home, thou wouldst not have taken somuch pains to join such advice, and such an appearance, together, asthou makest!"

This made every one that heard it laugh. --One said, the butterfly hathmet with her match. 

She returned, with an affected laugh, "Smartly said!--But art thoucome hither, friend, to make thy light shine before men or women?"

"Verily, friend, neither, " replied I: "but out of mere curiosity, tolook into the _minds_ of both sexes; which I read in their _dresses_. "

"A general satire on the assemblée, 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 answerher dress--Nor to a reverend Friar, " turning to the Monk, "if hismind 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 weedsin her heart to disgrace 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 aJack-pudding, neither!"

A Roman Senator just then accosted Miss Darnford; and Mr. B. Seeing meso much engaged, "'Twere hard, " said he, "if our nation, in spiteof Cervantes, produced not one cavalier to protect a fair lady thussurrounded. "

"Though surrounded, not distressed, my good knight-errant, " said theNun: "the fair Quaker will be too hard for half-a-dozen antagonists, and wants not your protection:--but your poor Nun bespeaks it, "whispered she, "who has not a word to say for herself. " Mr. B. Answered her in Italian (I wish I understood Italian!)--and she hadrecourse to her beads. 

You can't imagine, Madam, how this Nun haunted him!--I don't likethese masquerades at all. Many ladies, on these occasions, are sovery free, that the censorious will be apt to blame the whole sex for_their_ conduct, and to say, their hearts are as faulty as those ofthe most culpable men, since they scruple not to shew as much, whenthey think they cannot be known by their faces. But it is my humbleopinion, that could a standard be fixed, by which one could determinereadily what _is_, and what is _not_ wit, decency would not be sooften 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 duerebuke, but perhaps a smile, (without considering whether it be ofcontempt or approbation) mistakes courage for wit; and every thingsacred or civil becomes the subject of his frothy jest. 

But what a moralizer am I! will your ladyship say: indeed I can'thelp it:--and especially on such a subject as a _masquerade_, which Idislike more than any thing I ever saw. I could say a great deal moreon 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 Iapproved not by any means; though there were some who observed, thatshe was one of the gracefullest figures in the place. And, indeed, inspite of my own heart, I could not help thinking so too. 

Your ladyship knows so well what _masquerades_ are, that I may well beexcused saying any thing further on a subject I am so little pleasedwith: for you only desire my notions of those diversions, because I ama novice in them; and this, I doubt not, will doubly serve to answerthat purpose. 

I shall only therefore add, that after an hundred other impertinencesspoken to Miss Darnford and me, and retorted with spirit by her, andas well as I could by myself, quite sick of the place, I feigned to bemore indisposed than I was, and so got my beloved Spaniard to go offwith us, and reached home by three in the morning. And so much for_masquerades_. I hope I shall never have occasion to mention themagain to your ladyship. I am, my dearest Madam, _your ever obligedsister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LVII

MY DEAREST LADY, My mind is so wholly engrossed by thoughts of a very different naturefrom those which the diversions of the town and theatres inspire, thatI beg to be excused, if, for the present, I say nothing further ofthose lighter matters. But as you do not disapprove of my remarks, I intend, if God spares my life, to make a little book, which I willpresent to your ladyship, of my poor observations on all the dramaticentertainments I have seen, and shall see, this winter: and for thispurpose I have made brief notes in the margin of the printed plays Ihave bought, as I saw them, with a pencil; by referring to which, ashelps to my memory, I shall be able to state what my thoughts were atthe time of seeing them pretty nearly with the same advantage, as if Ihad written them at my return from each. 

I have obtained Sir Simon, and Lady Darnford's permission for Miss tostay with me till it shall be seen how it will please God to deal withme, and I owe this favour partly to a kind letter written in mybehalf to Sir Simon, by Mr. B. , and partly to the young lady'searnest request to her papa, to oblige me; Sir Simon having made somedifficulty to comply, as Mr. Murray and his bride have left them, saying, he could not live long, if he had not the company of hisbeloved daughter. 

But what shall I say, when I find my frailty so much increased, that Icannot, with the same intenseness of devotion I used to be blest with, apply myself to the throne of Grace, nor, of consequence, find myinvocations answered by that delight and inward satisfaction, withwhich I used when the present near prospect was more remote?

I hope I shall not be deserted in the hour of trial, and that this myweakness of mind will not be punished with a spiritual dereliction, for suffering myself to be too much attached to those worldly delightsand pleasures, which no mortal ever enjoyed in a more exalted degreethan myself. And I beseech you, my dearest lady, let me be alwaysremembered in your prayers--_only_ for a resignation to the Divinewill; a _cheerful_ resignation! I presume not to prescribe to hisgracious Providence; for if one has but _that_, one has every thingthat one need to have. 

Forgive me, my dearest lady, for being so deeply serious. I have justbeen contending with a severe pang, that is now gone off; what effectits return may have, God only knows. And if this is the last line Ishall ever write, it will be the more satisfactory to me, as (withmy humble respects to my good Lord Davers, and my dear countess, andpraying for the continuance of all your healths and happiness, both here and hereafter), I am permitted to subscribe myself _yourladyship's obliged sister and humble servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LVIII

_From Lady Davers to Mr. B. _

MY DEAREST BROTHER, Although I believe it needless to put a man of your generous spirit inmind of doing a worthy action; yet, as I do not know whether you havethought of what I am going to hint to you, I cannot forbear a line ortwo with regard to the good old couple in Kent. 

I am sure, if, for our sins, God Almighty should take from us myincomparable sister (forgive me, my dear brother, but to intimate what_may_ be, although I hourly pray, as her trying minute approaches, that it will not), you will, for her sake, take care that her honestparents have not the loss of your favour, to deepen the inconsolableone, they will have, in such a case, of the best of daughters. 

I say, I am sure you will do as generously by them as ever: and I daresay your sweet Pamela doubts it not: yet, as you know how sensible sheis of every favour done them, 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 ofher present circumstances, than, for your sake, she chooses to expressto 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 your heart is wrapped up in the dear creature: and youare a worthy brother to let it be so! You will excuse me therefore, Iam sure, for this my officiousness. 

I have no doubt but God will spare her to us, because, although we maynot be worthy of such excellence, yet we all now unite so gratefullyto thank him, for such a worthy relation, that I hope we shall not bedeprived of an example so necessary to us all. 

I can have but one fear, and that is, that, young as she is, she seemsripened for glory: she seems to have lived long enough for _herself_. But for _you_, and for _us_, that God will _still_ spare her, shall bethe hourly prayer of, _my dear worthy brother, your ever affectionatesister_, B. DAVERS. 

Have you got her mother with you? I hope you have. God give you a sonand heir, if it be his blessed will! But, however that be, preserveyour Pamela to you! for you never can have such _another_ wife. 

LETTER LIX

_From Mrs. B. To Mr. B. _

MY DEAR AND EVER-HONOURED MR. B. , Since I know not how it may please God Almighty to dispose of me onthe approaching occasion, I should think myself inexcusable, not tofind 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 yousaw I took delight in it. 

But yet, think not, O best beloved of my heart! that I have any boonto beg, any favour to ask, either for myself or for my friends, or somuch as the _continuance_ of your favour, to the one or the other. Asto 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 beyondmy desert, let my deservings be what they will. I have only thereforeto acknowledge with the deepest sense of your goodness to me, and withthe most heart-affecting gratitude, that from the happy, the thricehappy hour, that you so generously made me yours, till _this_ moment, you have not left one thing, on my own part, to wish for, but thecontinuance and increase of your felicity, and that I might be stillworthier of the unexampled goodness, tenderness, and condescension, wherewith you have always treated me. 

No, my dearest, my best beloved master, friend, husband, my _first_, my _last_, and _only_ love! believe me, I have nothing to wish for butyour honour and felicity, temporal and eternal; and I make no doubt, that God, in his infinite goodness and mercy, will perfect his owngood work, begun in your dear heart; and, whatever may now happen, give us a happy meeting, never more to part from one another. 

Let me then beg of you, my dearest protector, to pardon all myimperfections and defects; and if, ever since I have had the honourto be yours, I have in _looks_, or in _word_, or in _deed_, given youcause to wish me other than I was, that you will kindly put it to thescore of natural infirmity (for in _thought_ or _intention_, I cantruly boast, I have never wilfully erred). Your tenderness, andgenerous politeness to me, always gave me apprehension, that I was notwhat you wished me to be, because you would not find fault with me sooften as I fear I deserved: and this makes me beg of you to do, asI hope God Almighty will, pardon all my involuntary errors andomissions. 

But let me say one word for my dear worthy Mrs. Jervis. Her care andfidelity will be very necessary for your affairs, dear Sir, while youremain single, which I hope will not be long. But, whenever you make asecond choice, be pleased to allow her such an annuity as may makeher independent, and pass away the remainder of her life with ease andcomfort. And this I the rather presume to request, as my late honouredlady once intimated the same thing to you. If I were to name whatthat may be, it would not be with the thought of _heightening_, but of_limiting_ rather, the natural bounty of your heart; and fifty poundsa-year would be a rich provision, in her opinion, and will entail uponyou, dear Sir, the blessings of one of the faithfullest and worthiesthearts in the kingdom. 

Nor will Christian charity permit me to forget the once wicked, butnow penitent Jewkes. I understand by Miss Darnford, that she begs fornothing but to have the pleasure of dying in your service, and bythat means to atone for some small slips and mistakes in her accounts, which she had made formerly, and she accuses herself; for she willhave it, that Mr. Longman has been better to her than she deserved, in passing one account particularly, to which he had, with too muchreason, objected; do, dear Sir, if your _future_ happy lady has nogreat dislike to the poor woman, be pleased to grant her request, except her own mind should alter, and she desire her dismission. 

And now I have to beg of God to shower down his most preciousblessings upon you, my dearest, my _first_, my _last_, and my _only_love! and to return to you an hundred fold, the benefits which youhave conferred upon me and mine, and upon so many poor souls, as youhave blessed through my hands! And that you may in your next choice behappy with a lady, who may have every thing I want; and who may loveand honour you, with the same affectionate duty, which has been mydelight and my glory to pay you: for in this I am sure, no one _can_exceed me!--And after having given you long life, prosperity, andincrease of honour, translate you into a blessed eternity, where, through the merits of our common Redeemer, I hope I shall be alloweda place, and be permitted (O 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 soplease God! of, my dearest dear Mr. B. , _your dutiful and affectionatewife, and faithful servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LX

_From Miss Darnford to Lady Darnford. _

MY HONOURED MAMMA, You cannot conceive how you and my dear papa have delighted my goodMrs. B. And obliged her Mr. B. By the permission you have given me toattend her till the important hour shall be over with her; for she isexceedingly apprehensive, and one can hardly blame her; since there ishardly such another happy couple in the world. 

I am glad to hear that the ceremony is over, so much to both yoursatisfactions: may this matrimony be but a _tenth part_ as happy asthat I am witness to here; and Mr. And Mrs. Murray will have thatto boast of, which few married people have, even among those we callhappy!

For my part, I believe I shall never care to marry at all; for thoughI cannot be so deserving as Mrs. B. Yet I shall not bear to think ofa husband much less excellent than hers. Nay, by what I see in _her_apprehensions, and conceive of the condition she hourly expects to bein, I don't think a lady can be requited with a _less_ worthy one, forall she is likely to suffer on a husband's account, and for the sakeof _his_ family and name. 

Mrs. Andrews, a discreet worthy soul as ever I knew, and who in heraspect and behaviour is far from being a disgrace even to Mr. B. 'slady, is with her dear daughter, to her no small satisfaction, as youmay suppose. 

Mr. B. Asked my advice yesterday, about having in the house a midwife, to be at hand, at a moment's warning. I said I feared the sightof such a person would terrify her: and so he instantly started anexpedient, of which her mother, Mrs. Jervis, and myself, approved, andhave put into practice; for this day, Mrs. Harris, a distant relationof _mine_, though not of yours, Sir and Madam, is arrived from Essexto make me a visit; and Mr. B. Has prevailed upon her, in _complimentto me_, as he pretended, to accept of her board in his house, whileshe stays in town, which she says, will be about a week. 

Mrs. Harris being a discreet, modest, matron-like person, Mrs. B. Tooka 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 takesas much delight in administering to the health of her own sex, as herhusband used to do to that of both, Mrs. B. Says it is very fortunate, that she has so experienced a lady to consult, as she is such a novicein her own case. 

Mr. B. However, to carry on the honest imposture the better, justnow, in presence of Mrs. Harris, and Mrs. Andrews, and me, asked theformer, 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 thethoughts of it. Mrs. Harris said it was highly necessary that Mrs. B. If she would not permit the gentlewoman to be in the house, should seeher; and that then, she apprehended, there would be no necessity, asshe did not live far off, to have her in the house, 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; andshe being apprised of the matter, came; but never did I see so muchshyness and apprehension as Mrs. B. Shewed all the time Mrs. Thomaswas with her, holding sometimes her mother, sometimes Mrs. Harris, bythe hand, and being ready to sweat with terror. 

Mrs. Harris scraped acquaintance with Mrs. Thomas, who, pretending torecollect her, gave Mrs. Harris great praises; which increased Mrs. B. 's confidence in her: and she undertakes to govern the whole so, that the dreaded Mrs. Thomas need not come till the very moment: whichis no small pleasure to the over-nice lady. And she seems every hourto be better pleased with Mrs. Harris, who, by her prudent talk, willmore and more familiarize her to the circumstance, unawares to herselfin a manner. But notwithstanding this precaution, of a midwife inthe house, Mr. B. Intends to have a gentleman of the profession inreadiness, for fear of the worst. 

Mrs. B. Has written a letter, with this superscription: "To theever-honoured and ever-dear Mr. B. , with prayers for his health, honour, and prosperity in this world, and everlasting felicity in thatto come. P. B. " It is sealed with black wax, and she gave it me thismoment, on her being taken ill, to give to Mr. B. If she dies. ButGod, of his mercy, avert that! and preserve the dear lady, forthe honour of her sex, and the happiness of all who know her, andparticularly for that of your Polly Darnford; for I cannot have agreater 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 finereflections, directing herself to me, but designed for the benefit ofher Polly, on the subject of the inconsideration of some of our sex, with regard to the circumstances she is in. 

I knew what her design was, and said, "Aye, Polly, let you and I, andevery single young body, bear these reflections in mind, pronounced byso 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 God to preserve her dear lady, and she should be happy forever!

Mrs. B. Is exceedingly pleased with my new relation Mrs. Harris, aswe call her, who behaves with so much prudence, that she suspectsnothing, and told Mrs. Jervis, she wished nobody else was to come nearher. And as she goes out (being a person of eminence in her way) twoor three times a day, and last night staid out late, Mrs. B. Said, she hoped she would not be abroad, when she should wish her to be athome--

I have the very great pleasure, my dear papa and mamma, to acquaintyou, and I know you will rejoice with me upon it, that just half anhour ago, my dear Mrs. 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 dowell?"--"We hope so, " said I: "or I had not come down to you, I'llassure you. " He folded me in his arms, in a joyful rapture: "How happyyou make me, dearest Miss Darnford! If my Pamela is safe, the boy iswelcome, welcome, indeed!--But when may I go up to thank my jewel?"

Mrs. Andrews is so overjoyed, and so thankful, that there is nogetting her from her knees. 

A man and horse is dispatched already to Lady Davers, and anotherordered to Kent, to the good old man. 

Mrs. Jervis, when I went up, said she must go down and release thegood folks from their knees; for, half an hour before, they declaredthey would not stir from that posture till they heard how it went withtheir lady; and when the happy news was brought them of her safety, and of a young master, they were quite ecstatic, she says, in theirjoy, and not a dry eye among them, shaking hands, and congratulatingone another, men and maids; which made it one of the most affectingsights that can be imagined. And Mr. Longman, who had no power toleave the house for three days past, hasted to congratulate hisworthy principal; and never was so much moving joy seen, as thishonest-hearted steward ran over with. 

I did a foolish thing in my joy--I gave Mr. B. The letter designed forhim, had an 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; andthe happier turn will augment his thankfulness to God, and loveto her, when he shall, by this means, be blest with sentiments sodifferent from what the other case would have afforded. 

Mrs. B. Had a very sharp time. Never more, my dear papa, talk of ahusband to me. Place all your expectations on Nancy! Not one of thesemen that I have yet seen, is worth running these risques for! But Mr. B. 's endearments and tenderness to his lady, his thankful and manlygratitude and politeness, when he was admitted to pay his respects toher, and his behaviour to Mrs. Andrews, and to us all, though but fora visit of ten minutes, was alone worthy of all her risque. 

I would give you a description of it, had I Mrs. B. 's pen, and oftwenty agreeable scenes and conversations besides: but, for want ofthat, must conclude, with my humble duty, as becomes, honoured Sir, and Madam, _your ever grateful_

POLLY DARNFORD. 

LETTER LXI

_From the Same. _

MY HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA, We have nothing but joy and festivity in this house: and it wouldbe endless to tell you the congratulations the happy family receivesevery day, from tenants and friends. Mr. B. , you know, was alwaysdeemed one of the kindest landlords in England; and his tenants areoverjoyed at the happy event which has given them a young landlordof 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 any ofSir Jacob Swynford's family for their landlord, who, they say, areall made up of pride and cruelty, and would have racked them to death:insomuch that they had a voluntary meeting of about twenty of theprincipal of them, to rejoice on the occasion; and it was unanimouslyagreed to make a present of a piece of gilt plate, to serve as basinfor the christening, to the value of one hundred guineas; on which isto be engraven the following inscription:

_"In acknowledgment of the humanity and generosity of the best oflandlords, and as a token of his tenants' joy on the birth of a sonand heir, who will, it is hoped, inherit his father's generosity, andhis mother's virtues, this piece of plate is, with all due gratitude, presented, as a christening basin to all the children that shallproceed from such worthy parents, and their descendants, to the end oftime. _

_"By the obliged and joyful tenants of the maternal estatein Bedfordshire and Gloucestershire, the initials of whose names areunder engraven, viz. _"

Then are to follow the first letters of each person's Christian andsurname. 

What an honour is this to a landlord! In my opinion very farsurpassing the _mis-nomer'd_ free gifts which we read of in somekingdoms on extraordinary occasions, some of them like this! For hereit is all truly spontaneous--A free gift _indeed_! and Mr. B. Took itvery kindly, and has put off the christening for a week, to give timefor its being completed and inscribed as above. 

The Earl and Countess of C. And Lord and Lady Davers, are here, to stand in person at the christening; and you cannot conceive howgreatly my Lady Davers is transported with joy, to have a son and heirto the estate: she is every hour, almost, thanking her dear sisterfor him; and reads in the child all the great qualities she forms toherself in him. 'Tis indeed a charming boy, and has a great deal (ifone 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 aroundher, and her spouse's tenderness and politeness, give her cheerful andfree spirits; and she is all serenity, ease, and thankfulness. 

Mrs. B. , as soon as the danger was over, asked me for her letter withthe black seal. I had been very earnest to get it from Mr. B. But tono purpose; so I was forced to tell who had it. She said, but verycomposedly, 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. Hesaid he had designed to ask her leave to break the seal, which he hadnot yet done; nor would without her consent. 

"Will you give me leave, my dear, " said he, "to break theseal?"--"If you do, Sir, let it not be in my presence; but it is tooserious. "--"Not, my dear, now the apprehension is so happily over: itmay now add to my joy and my thankfulness on that account. "--"Then, doas you please, Sir; but I had rather you would not. "

"Then here it is, Miss Darnford: it was put into your hands, and thereI place it again. "--"That's something like, " said I, "considering thegentleman. Mrs. B. , I hope we shall bring him into good order betweenus in time. " So I returned it to the dear writer; who put it into herbosom. 

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 allopportunities now of justifying her brother's choice, and doing honourto his wife, with Lady Betty C. , who is her great favourite, and whodelights to read Mrs. B. 's letters. 

You desire to know, my honoured papa, how Mr. B. Passes his time, andwhether it be in his lady's chamber? No, indeed! Catch gentlemen, thebest of them, in too great a complaisance that way, if you can. "Whatthen, does he pass his time _with you_, Polly?" you are pleased toask. 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, hisvisits to her are much of the polite form, I believe I answer all youmean by your questions; and especially when I remind you, Sir, that Lord and Lady Davers, and the Earl and Countess of C. And yourunworthy 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 ever out of herroom. 

Then, Sir, Mr. B. , the Earl, and Lord Davers, give pretty constantattendance to the business of parliament; and, now and-then, supabroad--So, Sir, we are all upon honour; and I could wish (only thatyour facetiousness always gives me pleasure, as it is a token that youhave your much-desired health and freedom of spirits), that even injest, my mamma's daughter might pass unquestioned. 

But I know _why_ you do it: it is only to put me out of heart toask to stay longer. Yet I wish--But I know you won't permit me togo through the whole winter here. Will my dear papa grant it, do youthink, if you were to lay the highest obligation upon your dutifuldaughter, and petition for me? And should you care to try? I dare nothope it myself: but when one sees a gentleman here, who denies hislady nothing, it makes one wish, methinks, that Lady Darnford, was ashappy in that particular as Mrs. B. 

_Your_ indulgence for this _one_ winter, or, rather this small_remainder_ of it, I make not so much doubt of, you see, Madam. Iknow 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 beafterwards. I will fetch up all the lost time; rise an hour soonerin the morning, go to bed an hour later at night; flower my papa anything he pleases; read him to sleep when he pleases; put his gout intogood-humour, when it will be soothed--And Mrs. B. , to crown all, will come down with me, by permission of her sovereign lord, who willattend her, you may be sure: and will not _all_ this do, to procure mea month or two more?--If it won't, why then, I will thank you for yourpast goodness to me, and with all duty and cheerfulness, bid adieu tothis dear London, this dearer family, and tend a _still_ dearer papaand mamma; whose dutiful daughter I will ever be, whilst

POLLY DARNFORD. 

LETTER LXII

_To the Same. _

MY HONOURED PAPA AND MAMMA, I have received your joint commands, and intend to set out onWednesday, next week. I hope to find my papa in better health thanat present, and in better humour too; for I am sorry he is displeasedwith my petitioning for a little longer time in London. It is verysevere to impute to me want of duty and affection, which would, ifdeserved, make me most unworthy of your favour. 

Mr. B. And his lady are resolved to accompany me in their coach, tillyour chariot meets me, if you will be pleased to permit it so to do;and even set me down at your gate, if it did not; but he vows, that hewill neither alight at your house, nor let his lady. But I say, thatthis is a misplaced resentment, because I ought to think it a favour, that you have indulged me so much as you have done. And yet even thisis likewise a favour on _their_ side, to me, because it is an instanceof their fondness 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 heroff from her pen, which will be a great loss to all whom she used tooblige with her correspondence. Indeed this new object of her care isa charming child; and she is exceedingly pleased with her nurse;--forshe is not permitted, as she very much desired, to suckle it herself. 

She makes a great proficiency in the French and Italian languages; andwell she may; for she has the best schoolmaster in the world, and onewhom 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 andtender husband, for all that. 

We had a splendid christening, exceedingly well ordered, and everybody was delighted at it. The quality gossips went away but onTuesday; and my Lady Davers took leave of her charming sister with allthe blessings, and all the kindness, and affectionate fondness, thatcould be expressed. 

Mr. Andrews, that worthy old man, came up to see his grandson, yesterday. You would never have forgotten the good man's behaviour(had you seen it), to his daughter, and to the charming child; I wishI could describe it to you; but I am apt to think Mrs. B. Will noticeit to Lady Davers; and if she enters into the description of it whileI stay, I will beg a copy of it, to bring down with me; because I knowyou were pleased with the sensible, plain, good man, and his ways, when at the Hall in your neighbourhood. 

The child is named William, and I should have told you; but I writewithout any manner of connection, just as things come uppermost: butdon't, my dear papa, construe this, too, as an instance of disrespect. 

I see but one thing that can possibly happen to disturb the felicityof 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 greatly taken with Mr. B. She was in a nun's habit, and followed him wherever he went; and Mr. Turner, a gentleman of oneof the inns of court, who visits Mr. B. And is an old acquaintance ofhis, tells me, by-the bye, that the lady took an opportunity to unmaskto Mr. B. Mr. Turner has since found she is the young Countess Dowagerof----, a fine lady; but not the most reserved in her conduct of late, since her widowhood. And he has since discovered, as he says, that aletter 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 littlespice of jealousy; and should she be once alarmed, I tremble for theconsequence to both their happiness. 

I conceive, that if ever anything makes a misunderstanding betweenthem, it will be from some such quarter as this. But 'tis a thousandpities 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 hintsof this matter should come from me. --Mr. B. Is a very enterprising andgallant man, a fine figure, and I don't wonder a lady may like him. But he seems so pleased, so satisfied with his wife, and carries it toher with so much tenderness and affection, that I hope her merit, andhis affection for her, will secure his conjugal fidelity. 

If it prove otherwise, and she discovers it, I know not one that wouldbe more miserable than Mrs. B. , as well from motives of piety andvirtue, as from the excessive love she bears him. But I hope forbetter things, for both their sakes. 

My humble thanks for all your indulgence to me, with hopes, that youwill 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. Concludeme _your dutiful daughter_, P. DARNFORD. 

LETTER LXIII

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers_. 

MY DEAR LADY, We are just returned from accompanying the worthy Miss Darnford as faras Bedford, in her way home, where her papa and mamma met her in theircoach. Sir Simon put on his pleasant airs, and schooled Mr. B. Forpersuading his daughter to stay so long from him; _me_ for putting herupon asking to stay longer; and _she_ for being persuaded by us. 

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 couldcome to congratulate us (designing to be _incog_. ), we proceeded onour journey to London, and found my dearest, dear boy, in charminghealth. 

What a new pleasure has God bestowed upon me; which, after everylittle absence, rises upon me in a true maternal tenderness, everystep I move toward the dear little blessing! Yet sometimes, I thinkyour dear brother is not so fond of him as I wish him to be. He says, "'tis time enough for him to mind him, when he can return his notice, and be grateful!"--A negligent word isn't it, Madam--considering--

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 impossibleto describe the joy with which his worthy heart overflowed, when hecongratulated us on the happy event. And as he had been apprehensivefor his daughter's safety, judge, my lady, what his transports mustbe, to see us all safe and well, and happy, and a son given to Mr. B. By his greatly honoured daughter. 

I was in the nursery when he came. So was my mother. Miss Darnfordalso 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 gentleman, "see who's here!"

I sprang to him, and kneeled for his blessing: "O my father!" saidI, "see" (pointing to the dear baby at the nurse's breast), "how GodAlmighty has answered all our prayers!"

He dropped down on his knees by me, clasping me in his indulgent arms:"O my daughter!--My blessed daughter!--And do I once more see you! Andsee you safe and well!--I do! I do!--Blessed be thy name, O graciousGod, for these thy mercies!"

While we were thus joined, happy father, and happy daughter, in onethanksgiving, the sweet baby having fallen asleep, the nurse had putit into the cradle; and when my father rose from me, he went to mymother, "God bless my dear Betty, " said he, "I longed to see you, after this separation. Here's joy! here's pleasure! O how happy arewe!" And taking her hand, he kneeled down on one side the cradle, and my mother on the other, both looking at the dear baby, witheyes running over; and, hand in hand, he prayed, in the most ferventmanner, for a blessing upon the dear infant, and that God Almightywould make him an honour to his father's family, and to his mother'svirtue; and that, in the words of Scripture, _"he might grow on, andbe in favour both with the Lord, and with man. "_

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 hasa very high regard for this author, and tells me, that my tendernessfor Billy will make me think some of the first advice given in it alittle harsh; but although he has not read it through, only havingdipped into it here and there, he believes from the name of theauthor, I cannot have a better directory; and my opinion of it, after I have well considered it, will inform him, he says, of my owncapacity and prudence, and how far he may rely upon both in the pointof a _first education_. 

I asked, if I might not be excused writing, only making myobservations, here and there, to himself, as I found occasion? But hesaid, "You will yourself, my dear, better consider the subject, andbe more a mistress of it, and I shall the better attend to yourreasonings, when put into writing: and surely, Pamela, you may, insuch an important point as this, as well oblige _me_ with a little ofyour penmanship, as your other dear friends. "

After this, your ladyship will judge I had not another word to say. Hecuts one to the heart, when he speaks so seriously. 

I have looked a little into it. It is a book quite accommodated tomy case, being written to a gentleman, the author's friend, for theregulation 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 vanityin me, to find fault with such a genius as Mr. Locke?

I must, on this occasion, give your ladyship the particulars ofa short conversation between your brother and me; which, however, perhaps, will not be to my advantage, because it will shew you what ateazing body I can be, if I am indulged. But Mr. B. Will not spoil meneither in that way, I dare say!--Your ladyship will see this in thevery dialogue I shall give you. 

Thus it was. I had been reading in Mr. Locke's book, and Mr. B. Askedme how I liked it?--"Exceedingly well, Sir. But I have a proposal tomake, which, if you will be pleased to comply with, will give me acharming opportunity of understanding Mr. Locke. "

"What is your proposal, my dear? I see 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 goodhumour, before I make it. I think you look grave upon me; and myproposal will not then do, I'm sure. "

"You have all the amusing ways of your sex, my dear Pamela. But tellme what you would say? You know I don't love suspense. "

"May-be you're busy. Sir. Perhaps I break in upon you. I believe youwere going into your closet. "

"True woman!--How you love to put one upon the tenters! Yet, my lifefor yours, by your parade, what I just now thought important, is somepretty trifle!--Speak it at once, or I'll be angry with you;" andtapped my cheek. 

"Well, I wish I had not come just now!--I see you are not in agood humour enough for my proposal. --So, pray, Sir, excuse me tillto-morrow. "

He took my hand, and led me to his closet, calling me his prettyimpertinent; and then urging me, I said, "You know, Sir, I have notbeen used to the company of children. Your dear Billy will not make mefit, for a long time, to judge of any part of education. I can learnof the charming boy nothing but the baby conduct: but now, if I mighttake into the house some little Master of three or four years old, orMiss of five or six, I should watch over all their little ways; andnow reading a chapter in the _child_, and now one in the _book_, I canlook forward, and with advantage, into the subject; and go through allthe parts of education tolerably, for one of my capacity; for, Sir, I can, by my own defects, and what I have wished to mend, know howto judge of, and supply that part of life which carries a child up toeleven or twelve years of age, which was mine, when my lady took me. "

"A pretty thought, Pamela! but tell me, who will part with theirchild, think you? Would _you_, if it were your case, although ever sowell assured of the advantages your little one would reap by it?--Fordon't you consider, that the child ought to be wholly subjected toyour authority? That its father or mother ought seldom to see it;because it should think itself absolutely dependent upon you?--Andwhere, my dear, will you meet with parents so resigned?--Besides, onewould have the child descended of genteel parents, and not such ascould do nothing for it; otherwise the turn of mind and education youwould give it, might do it more harm than good. "

"All this, Sir, is very true. But have you no other objection, if onecould find a genteely-descended young Master? And would you join topersuade his papa to give me up his power, only from three monthsto three months, as I liked, and the child liked, and as the papaapproved of my proceedings?"

"This is so reasonable, with these last conditions, Pamela, that Ishould be pleased with your notion, if it could be put in practice, because the child would be benefited by your instruction, and youwould be improved in an art, which I could wish to see you an adeptin. "

"But, perhaps. Sir, you had rather it were a girl than a boy?"--"Ihad, my dear, if a girl could be found, whose parents would giveher up to you; but I suppose you have some boy in your head, by yourputting it upon that sex at first. "

"Let me see, Sir, you say you are in a good humour! Let me see if yoube;"--looking boldly in his face. 

"What now, " with some little impatience, "would the pretty fool beat?"

"Only, Sir, that you have nothing to do, but to speak the word, andthere is a child, whose papa and mamma too, I am sure, would consentto give up to me for my own instruction, as well as for her sake;and if, to speak in the Scripture phrase, I have found _grace in yoursight_, kind Sir, speak this word to the dear child's papa. "

"And have you thus come over me, Pamela!--Go, I am half angry withyou, for leading me on in this manner against myself. This looks soartful, that I won't love you!"--"Dear Sir!"--"And dear Madam too!Be gone, I say!--You have surprised me by art, when your talent isnature, and you should keep to that!"

I was sadly baulked, 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, Imoved my unwilling feet towards the door. --He took a turn about thecloset meantime. --"Yet stay, " said he, "there is something so generousin your art, that, on recollection, I cannot part with you. "

He took notice of the starting tear--"I am to blame!--You hadsurprised me so, that my hasty temper got the better of myconsideration. Let me kiss away this pearly fugitive. Forgive me, mydearest love! What an inconsiderate brute am I, when compared to suchan angel as my Pamela! I see at once now, all the force, and all themerit, of your amiable generosity: and to make you amends for thismy hastiness, I will coolly consider of the matter, and will eithersatisfy you by my compliance, or by the reasons, which I will give youfor the contrary. 

"But, say, my Pamela, can you forgive my harshness?"--"Can I!--Yes, indeed, Sir, " pressing his hand to my lips; "and bid me Go, and Begone, twenty times a-day, if I am to be thus kindly called back toyou, thus nobly and condescendingly treated, in the same breath!-Isee, dear Sir, " continued I, "that I must be in fault, if ever you arelastingly displeased with me. For as soon as you turn yourself about, your anger vanishes, and you make me rich amends for a few harshwords. Only one thing, dear Sir, let me add; if I have dealt artfullywith you, impute it to my fear of offending you, through the natureof my petition, and not to design; and that I took the example of theprophet, to King David, in the parable of the _Ewe-Lamb. _"

"I remember it, my dear--and you have well pointed your parable, andhad nothing to do, but to say--'_Thou art the man!'_"

I am called upon by my dear benefactor for a little airing, and hesuffers me only to conclude this long letter. So I am obliged, withgreater abruptness than I had designed, to mention thankfully yourladyship's goodness to me; particularly in that kind, kind letter, in behalf of my dear parents, had a certain event taken place. Mr. B. Shewed it to me _this morning_, and not before--I believe, for fearI should have been so much oppressed by the sense of your unmeritedgoodness to me, had he let me known of it before your departurefrom us, that I should not have been able to look up at you; heapingfavours and blessings upon me, as you were hourly doing besides. Whata happy creature am I!--But my gratitude runs me into length; andsorry I am, that I cannot have time just now to indulge it. 

Is there nothing, my dear Lord and Lady Davers, 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 freshobligation upon me--Which, however, I should be very proud of, becauseI should thereby convince you, by more than words, how much I am(most particularly, my dearest Lady Davers, my sister, my friend, mypatroness), _your most obliged and faithful servant, _ P. B. 

Your dear brother joins in respectful thankfulness to his four noblegossips. And my Billy, by his lips, subscribed his. I hope so todirect his earliest notions, as to make him sensible of his dutifulobligation. 

LETTER LXIV

_From Lady Davers to Mrs. B. _

MY DEAREST PAMELA, Talk not to us of unreturnable obligations and all that. You do morefor us, in the entertainment you give us all, by your letters, thanwe _have_ done, or even _can_ do, for you. And as to me, I know nogreater pleasure in the world than that which my brother's felicityand yours gives me. God continue this felicity to you both. I am sureit will be _his_ fault, and not yours, if it be at all diminished. 

We have heard some idle rumours here, as if you were a little uneasyof late; and having not had a letter from you for this fortnight past, it makes me write, to ask you how you all do? and whether you expectedan answer from me to your last?

I hope you won't be punctilious with me. For we have nothing to writeabout, except it be how much we all love and honour you; and that youbelieve already, or else you don't do us justice. 

I suppose you will be going out of town soon, now the parliament isrising. My Lord is resolved to put his proxy into another hand, andintends I believe, to take my brother's advice in it. Both the Earland his Lordship are highly pleased with my brother's moderate andindependent principles. He has got great credit among all unprejudicedmen, by the part he acted throughout the last session, in which he hasshown, that he would no more join to distress and clog the wheels ofgovernment, by an unreasonable opposition, than he would do the dirtywork of any administration. As he has so noble a fortune and wantsnothing of any body, he would be doubly to blame, to take any otherpart than that of his country, in 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. 

LETTER LXV

MY DEAREST LADY, I have been a little in disorder, that I have. Some few rubs havehappened. I hope they will be happily removed, I am unwilling tobelieve all that is said. But this is a wicked town. I wish we wereout of it. Yet I see not when that will be. I wish Mr. B. Would permitme and my Billy to go into Kent. But I don't care to leave him behindme, neither; and he is not inclined to go. Excuse my brevity, mydearest lady--But I must break off, with only assuring your ladyship, that I am, and ever will be, _your obliged and grateful_, P. B. 

LETTER LXVI

MY DEAREST PAMELA, I understand things are not so well as I wish. If you think my comingup to town, and residing with you, while you stay, will be of service, or help you to get out of it, I will set out directly. I will pretendsome indisposition, and a desire of consulting the London physicians;or any thing you shall think fit to be done, by _your affectionatesister, and faithful friend_, B. DAVERS

LETTER LXVII

MY DEAREST LADY, A thousand thanks for your goodness to me; but I hope all will bewell. I hope God will enable me to act so prudent a part, as willtouch his generous breast. Be pleased to tell me what your ladyshiphas heard; but it becomes not me, I think, till I cannot help it, tomake any appeals; for I know those will not be excused; and I do all Ican to suppress my uneasiness before him. But I pay for it, when Iam alone. My nursery and my reliance on God (I should have said thelatter first), are all my consolation. God preserve and bless you, mygood lady, and my noble lord! (but I am apt to think your ladyship'spresence will not avail), prays _your affectionate and obliged, _ P. B. 

LETTER LXVIII

Why does not my sweet girl subscribe _Sister_, as usual? I have donenothing amiss to you! I love you dearly, and ever will. I can't helpmy brother's faults. But I hope he treats you with politeness anddecency. He shall be none of my brother if he don't. I rest a greatdeal upon your prudence: and it will be very meritorious, if you canovercome yourself, so as to act unexceptionably, though it may not bedeserved on this occasion. For in doing so, you'll have a triumph overnature itself; for, my dear girl, as you have formerly owned, you havea little touch of jealousy in your composition. 

What I have heard, is no secret to any body. The injured party isgenerally the last who hears in these cases, and you shall not firstbe told anything by me that must _afflict_ you, but cannot _you_, morethan it does _me_. God give you patience and comfort! The wicked ladyhas a deal to answer for, to disturb such an uncommon happiness. Butno more, than that I am _your ever-affectionate sister_, B. DAVERS. 

I am all impatience to hear how you conduct yourself upon this tryingoccasion. Let me know what you have heard, and _how_ you came to hearit. 

LETTER LXIX

Why don't I subscribe Sister? asks my dearest Lady Davers. --I havenot had the courage to do it of late. For my title to that honourarises from the dear, thrice dear Mr. B. And how long I may bepermitted to call him mine, I cannot say. But since you command it, Iwill call your ladyship by that beloved name, let the rest happen asGod shall see fit. 

Mr. B. Cannot be unpolite, in the main; but he is cold, and a littlecross, and short in his speeches to me. I try to hide my grieffrom everybody, and most from him: for neither my parents, nor MissDarnford know anything from me. Mrs. Jervis, from whom I seldom hideany 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 aswell as mine. --I am even sorry your ladyship is afflicted with theknowledge 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, islost to a sense of honour and justice. --From these wicked masqueradessprings all the unhappiness; my Spaniard was too amiable, and met witha lady who was no Nun, but in habit. Every one was taken with him inthat habit, so suited to the natural dignity of his person!--O thesewicked masquerades!

I am all patience in appearance, all uneasiness in reality. I did notthink I could, especially in _this_ most _affecting_ point, be such anhypocrite. Your ladyship knows not what it has cost me, to be able toassume that character! Yet my eyes are swelled with crying, and lookred, although I am always breathing on my hand, and patting themwith it, and my warm breath, to hide the distress that will, from myovercharged heart, appear in them. 

Then he says, "What's the matter with the little fool! You are alwaysin this way of late! What ails you, Pamela?"

"Only a little vapourish, Sir!--Don't be angry at me!--Billy, Ithought, was not very well!"

"This boy will spoil your temper: at this rate, what should be yourjoy, will become your misfortune. Don't receive me in this manner, Icharge you. "

"In what manner. Sir? I always receive you with a grateful heart! Ifany thing troubles me, it is in your absence: but see, Sir" (thenI try to smile, and seem pleased), "I am all sunshine, now you arecome!--don't you see I am?"

"Yes, your sunshine of late is all through a cloud! I know not what'sthe 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 kissedhis hand; that dear hand, that, perhaps, was last about his morebeloved Countess's neck--Distracting reflection!

But come, may-be I think the worst! To be sure I do! For myapprehensions were ever aforehand with events; and bad must be thecase, if it be worse than I think it. 

You command me to let you know _what_ I have heard, and how I_came_ to hear it. I told your ladyship in one of my former that twogentlemen brought up to the law, but above the practice of it, thoughI doubt, not above practices less honourable, had visited us on comingto town. 

They have been often here since, Mr. Turner particularly: andsometimes by himself, when Mr. B. Has happened to be out: and he itwas, as I guessed, that gave me, at the wicked masquerade, the adviceto look after my _Musidorus_. 

I did not like their visits, and _his_ much less: for he seemed to bea man of intriguing spirit. But about three weeks ago, Mr. B. Settingout upon a party of pleasure to Oxford, he came and pretended greatbusiness with me. I was at breakfast in the parlour, only Pollyattending me, and admitted him, to drink a dish of chocolate with me. When Polly had stept out, he told me, after many apologies, that hehad discovered who the nun was at the masquerade, that had engaged Mr. B. 

I said it was very indifferent to me who the lady was. 

He replied (making still more apologies, and pretending greatreluctance to speak out), that it was no less a lady than the youngCountess Dowager of----, a lady noted for her wit and beauty, but of agay disposition, though he believed not yet culpable. 

I was alarmed; but would not let him see it; and told Mr. Turner, that I was so well satisfied in Mr. B. 's affection for me, and hiswell-known honour, that I could not think myself obliged to anygentleman who should endeavour to give me a less opinion of eitherthan I ought to have. 

He then bluntly told me, that the very party Mr. B. Was upon, was withthe Countess for one, and Lord----, who had married her sister. 

I said, I was glad he was in such good company, and wished him everypleasure in it. 

He hoped, he said, he might trust to my discretion, that I would notlet Mr. B. Know from whom I had the information: that, indeed, hismotive in mentioning it was self-interest; having presumed to makesome overture of an honourable nature to the Countess, in his ownbehalf; which had been rejected since that masquerade night: and hehoped the prudent use I would make of the intimation, might somehow bea means to break off that correspondence, before it was attended withbad consequences. 

I told him coldly, though it stung me to the heart, that I was fullyassured of Mr. B. 's honour; and was sorry he, Mr. Turner, had so badan opinion of a lady to whom he professed so high a consideration. Andrising up--"Will you excuse me, Sir, that I cannot attend at all tosuch a subject as this? I think I ought not: and so must withdraw. "

"Only, Madam, one word. " He offered to take my hand, but I would notpermit it. He then swore a great oath, that he had told me his trueand only motive; that letters had passed between the Countess and Mr. B. , adding, "But I beg you'll keep it within your own breast; else, from two such hasty spirits as his and mine, it might be attended withstill worse consequences. "

"I will never. Sir, enter into a subject that is not proper to becommunicated every tittle of it to Mr. B. ; and this must be my excusefor withdrawing. " And away I went from him. 

Your ladyship will judge with how uneasy a heart; which became moreso, when I sat down to reflect upon what he had told me. But I wasresolved to give it as little credit as I could, or that any thingwould come of it, till Mr. B. 's own behaviour should convince me, tomy affliction, that I had some reason to be alarmed: so I opened notmy lips about it, not even to Mrs. Jervis. 

At Mr. B. 's return, I received him in my usual affectionate andunreserved manner: and he behaved himself to me with his accustomedgoodness and kindness: or, at least, with so little difference, thathad not Mr. Turner's officiousness made me more watchful, I should nothave perceived it. 

But next day a letter was brought by a footman for Mr. B. He was out:so John gave it to me. The superscription was a lady's writing:the seal, the Dowager Lady's, with a coronet. This gave me greatuneasiness; and when Mr. B. Came in, I said, "Here is a letter foryou. Sir; and from a lady too!"

"What then, " said he, with quickness. 

I was baulked, and withdrew. For I saw him turn the seal about andabout, as if he would see whether I had endeavoured to look into it. 

He needed not to have been so afraid; for I would not have done such athing had I known my life was to depend upon it. I went up, and couldnot help weeping at his quick answer; yet I did my endeavour to hideit, when he came up. 

"Was not my girl a little inquisitive upon me just now?"

"I spoke pleasantly. Sir--But you were very quick on your girl. "

"'Tis my temper, my dear--You know I mean nothing. You should not mindit. "

"I should not, Sir, if I had been _used_ to it. "

He looked at me with sternness, "Do you doubt my honour, Madam?"

"_Madam!_ I 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, yourrustic, your Pamela--call me any thing but _Madam!_"

"My charmer, then, my life, my soul: will any of those do?" andsaluted me: "but whatever you do, let me not see that you have anydoubts of my honour to you. "

"The very mention of the word, dear Sir, is a security to me; I wantno other; I cannot doubt: but if you speak short to me, how shall Ibear that?"

He withdrew, speaking nothing of the contents of his letter; as I daresay 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 wasof his party to Oxford? He named the Viscountess---, and her lord, Mr. Howard, and his daughter, Mr. Herbert and his lady: "And I had apartner 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 asudden 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 Iengage her to visit you? She longs to see you. "

"Sir--Sir, " hesitated I, "as you please--I can't--I can't bedispleased--"

"_Displeased?_" interrupted he: "why that word? and why thathesitation in your answer? You speak very volubly, my dear, whenyou're not moved. "

"Dear Sir, " said I, almost as quick as he was, "why should I be moved?What occasion is there for it? I hope you have a better opinion of methan--"

"Than what, Pamela?--What would you say? I know you are a littlejealous rogue, I know you are. "

"But, dear Sir, why do you impute jealousy to me on _this_score?--What a creature must I be, if you could not be abroad with alady, but I must be jealous of you?--No, Sir, I have reason to relyupon your honour; and I _do_ rely upon it; and----"

"And what? Why, my dear, you are giving me assurances, as if youthought 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 frequentweepings, when by myself, could not be hid as I wished; my eyes notkeeping my heart's counsel. 

And this gives occasion to some of the stern words which I havementioned above. 

All that he further said at this time was, with a negligent, yet adetermined air--"Well, Pamela, don't be doubtful of my honour. Youknow how much I love you. But, one day or other I shall gratify thislady's curiosity, and bring her to pay you a visit, and you shall seeyou 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 steadfastly upon me whenever I moved my lips; and I am nota finished hypocrite, and he can read the lines of one's face, and themotions of one's heart, I think. 

I am sure mine is a very uneasy one. But till I reflected, and weighedwell the matter, it was worse; and my natural imperfection of thissort made me see a necessity to be more watchful over myself, and todoubt my own prudence. And thus I reasoned when he withdrew:

"Here, " thought I, "I have had a greater proportion of happinesswithout alloy, fallen to my share, than any of my sex; and I ought tobe prepared for some trials. 

"'Tis true, this is of the sorest kind: 'tis worse than death itselfto me, who had an opinion of the dear man's reformation, and pridedmyself not a little on that account. So that the blow is full upon mysore 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 dieby an enemy's hands, must not the arrow find out that only vulnerableplace? 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 barbeddart has found that out, and there it sticks up to the very feathers. 

"Yet, " thought I, "I will take care, that I do not exasperate himby upbraidings, when I should try to move him by patience andforbearance. For the breach of his duty cannot warrant the neglect of_mine_. My business is to reclaim, and not to provoke. And when, if itplease God, this storm shall be over-blown, let me not, by my presentbehaviour, leave any room for heart-burnings; but, like a skilfulsurgeon, so heal the wound to the bottom, though the operation bepainful, that it may not fester, and break out again with freshviolence, on future misunderstandings, if any shall happen. 

"Well, but, " thought I, "let the worst come to the worst, he perhapsmay be so good as to permit me to pass the remainder of my days withmy dear Billy, in Kent, with my father and mother; and so, whenI cannot rejoice in possession of a virtuous husband, I shall beemployed in praying for him, and enjoy a two-fold happiness, that ofdoing my own duty to my dear baby--a pleasing entertainment this! andthat of comforting my worthy parents, and being comforted by them--ano small consolation! And who knows, but I may be permitted to steala visit now-and-then to dear Lady Davers, and be called Sister, and bedeemed a _faultless_ sister too?" But remember, my dear lady, that ifever 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 tofind excuses or extenuations for him; and I will now-and-then, insome disguised habit, steal the pleasure of seeing him and his happierCountess; and give him, with a silent tear, my blessing for the good Iand mine have reaped at his hands. 

But oh! if he takes from me my Billy, who must, after all, be hisheir, and gives him to the cruel Countess, he will at once burstasunder the strings of my heart! For, oh, my happy rivaless! if youtear from me my husband, he is in his own disposal, and I cannot helpit: nor can I indeed, if he will give you my Billy. But this I am sureof, that my child and my life must go together!

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 cannotbear it. He says, just now, "You are quite altered, Pamela. " I believeI am. Madam. But what can I do? He knows not that I know so much. Idare 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 isabsent: 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, afterall 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 should this matter blow over, Ishall be ashamed of my weakness, and the trouble I must give to yourgenerous heart, for one so undeservedly favoured by you, as _yourobliged sister, and most humble servant, _ P. B. 

Dear Madam, let no soul see any part of this our presentcorrespondence, for your brother's sake, and your sake, and my sake. 

LETTER LXX

MY DEAREST PAMELA, You need not be afraid of any body's knowing what passes between uson this cutting subject. Though I hear of it from every mouth, yetI pretend 'tis all falsehood and malice. Yet Lady Betty will have itthat there is more in it than I will own; and that I know my brother'swickedness by my pensive looks. She will make a vow, she says, neverto marry any man living. 

I am greatly moved by your affecting periods. Charming Pamela! what atempest do you raise in one's mind, when you please, and lay ittoo, at your own will! Your colourings are strong; but, I hope, yourimagination 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 directionyou beg _so_ hourly, that I make no doubt you will have it. 

What vexes me is, that when the noble uncle of this vile lady--(whydon't you call her so as well as I?)--expostulated with her on thescandals she brought upon her character and family, she pretended toargue (foolish creature!) to polygamy: and said, she had rather be acertain gentleman's second wife, than the first to the greatest man inEngland. 

I leave you to your own workings; but if I find your prudenceunrewarded by the wretch, the storm you saw raised at the Hall, shallbe nothing to the hurricane I will excite, to tear up by the roots allthe happiness 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 hisgenerosity: he has that in some perfection. But how in _this_ case tomove it, is beyond my power or skill to prescribe. God bless you, mydearest Pamela! You shall be my _only_ sister. And I will never own mybrother, if he be so base to your superlative merit. Adieu once more, _from your sister and friend, _ B. DAVERS. 

LETTER LXXI

MY DEAREST LADY, A thousand thanks for your kind, your truly sisterly letter andadvice. Mr. B. Is just returned from a tour to Portsmouth, with theCountess, 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 withhim. This is some comfort. 

He is very kind: and Billy not being well when he came in, my griefpassed off without blame. He had said many tender things to me; butadded, that if I gave myself so much uneasiness every time the childailed any thing, he would hire the nurse to overlay him. Bless me. Madam! what hard-hearted shocking things are these men capable ofsaying!--The farthest from their hearts, indeed; so they had need--Forhe 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, andreturned in a good humour, saying twenty agreeable things to me, whichmakes me _so_ proud, and _so_ pleased!

He is gone out again. 

Could I but find this matter happily conquered, for his own soul'ssake!--But he seems, by what your ladyship mentions, to have carriedthis polygamy point with the lady. 

Can I live with him. Madam--_ought_ I--if this be the case? I have itunder his hand, that the laws of his country were sufficient to deterhim 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 playemployment, so unsuited to my present afflicted mind!"--Here he comes!

O, Madam! my heart is almost broken!--Just now Mr. B. Tells me, thatthe Countess Dowager and the Viscountess, her sister, are to be hereto see my Billy, and to drink tea with me, this very afternoon!

I 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 I have these wretched vapours so, that Iwish I might be excused--I wish I might be allowed to take an airingin the chariot for two or three hours; for I shall not be fit to beseen 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. But, do as you please. "

He was going, and I took his hand: "Stay, dear Sir, let me know whatyou 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 innocentperson cannot look up in her own house too, as it now is, as I maysay, to a guilty one! Guilty in her heart, at least!--Though, poorlady, 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 of me, what a task I have!--How my heart throbs inmy bosom! How I tremble! how I struggle with myself! What rules I formfor my behaviour to this naughty lady! How they are dashed in piecesas soon as formed, and new ones taken up! And yet I doubt myself whenI come to the test. 

But one thing will help me. I _pity_ the poor lady; and as she comeswith the heart of a robber, to invade me in my lawful right, I pridemyself in a superiority over this countess; and will endeavour to shewher the country girl in a light which would better become _her_ toappear in. 

I must be forced to leave off here; for Mr. B. Is just come into receive his guests; and I am in a sad flutter upon it. All myresolution fails me; what shall I do? O that this countess was comeand gone!

I have one comfort, however, in the midst of all my griefs; and thatis in your ladyship's goodness, which gives me leave to assume thehonoured title, that let what may happen, will always give me equalpride and pleasure, in subscribing myself, _your ladyship's mostobliged sister, and humble servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXII

MY DEAR LADY, I will now pursue my last affecting subject; for the visit is over;but a sad situation I am in with Mr. B. For all that: but, bad as itis, 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 heexpected 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 subjects. 

"So, Pamela!--How do you do now?"

Your ladyship may guess, by what I wrote before, that I could notgive any extraordinary account of myself--"As well--as well, Sir, aspossible;" half out of breath. 

"You give yourself strange melancholy airs of late, my dear. All thatcheerfulness, which used to delight me whenever I saw you, I amsorry for it, is quite vanished. You and I must shortly have a littleserious talk together. "

"When you please. Sir. I believe it is only being used to this smokythick air of London!--I shall be better when you carry me into thecountry. 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 chooseto make, to receive such guests?"

"If it displeases you. Sir, I will dress otherwise in a minute. "

"You look well in any thing. But I thought you'd have been betterdressed. Yet it would never have less become you; for of late youreyes have lost that brilliancy that used to strike me with a lustre, much surpassing that of the finest diamonds. "

"I am sorry for it, Sir. But as I never could pride myself indeserving such a kind of compliment, I should be too happy, forgiveme, my dearest Mr. B. , if the failure be not rather in your eyes, thanin _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 noaddition. " Down he went. 

Strange short speeches, these, my lady, to what you have heard fromhis dear mouth!--"Yet they shall not rob me of the merit of a patientsufferer, I am resolved, " thought I. 

Now, my lady, as I doubted not my rival would come adorned with everyoutward ornament, I put on only a white damask gown, having no desireto vie with her in appearance; for a virtuous and honest heart is myglory, I bless God! I wish the countess had the same to boast of!

About five, their ladyships came in the countess's new chariot: forshe has not been long out of her transitory mourning, and dressed asrich as jewels, and a profusion of expense, could make her. 

I saw them from the window alight. O how my heart throbbed!--"Liestill, " said I, "busy thing! why all this emotion?--Those shiningornaments cover not such a guileless flatterer as thou. Why then allthis emotion?"

Polly Barlow came up instantly from Mr. B. 

I hastened down; tremble, tremble, tremble, went my feet, in spiteof all the resolution I had been endeavouring so long to collecttogether. 

Mr. B. Presented the countess to me, both of us covered with blushes;but from very different motives, as I imagine. 

"The Countess of---, my dear. "

She saluted me, and looked, as I thought, half with envy, half withshame: but one is apt to form people's countenances by what one judgesof their hearts. 

"O too lovely, too charming rival!" thought I--"Would to heaven I sawless attraction in you!"--For indeed she is a charming lady; yet shecould not help calling me Mrs. B. , that was some pride to me: everylittle distinction is a pride to me now--and said, she hoped I wouldexcuse 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 villainous masquerades, " thought I!--"You would never havewanted 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 inperson to her sister. 

"You have a charming boy, I am told, Madam; but no wonder from such apair!"

"O dear heart, " thought I, "i'n't it so!" Your ladyship may guess whatI thought farther. 

"Will your ladyship see him now?" said Mr. B. 

He did not look down; no, not one bit!--though the Countess playedwith 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, myfirst flutters being over, and thought I was superior, by reason ofthat, even to a Countess. 

With all her heart, she said. 

I rang. "Polly, bid nurse bring _my_ Billy down. "--_My_, said I, withan emphasis. 

I met the nurse at the stairs' foot, and brought in my dear baby in myarms: "Such a child, and such a mamma!" said the Viscountess. 

"Will you give Master to my arms, one moment, Madam?" said theCountess. 

"Yes, " thought I, "much rather than my dear naughty gentleman shouldany other. "

I _yielded_, it to her: I thought she would have stifled it with herwarm kisses. "Sweet boy I charming creature, " and pressed it to hertoo 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 gratifiedin your pride, by her fondness for your boy. I wish I did not love youso well as I do!" But neither, your ladyship may believe, did I saythis. 

Mr. B. Looked at me, but with a bravery, I thought, too like what Ihad 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 willnow, 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 withgreat pleasure. She is a married lady. Would to God, the Countess wasso 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 hischarming mamma. I thought, " added she, "I never saw a lovelier sightin my life, than when in his mamma's arms. "

"Why, I _can't_ say, " said the Countess, "but Master and his mamma docredit to one another. Dear Madam, let us have the pleasure of seeinghim still on your lap, while he is so good. "

I wondered the dear baby was so quiet; though, indeed, he is generallyso: but _he_ might surely, if but by sympathy, have complained for hispoor mamma, though she durst not for herself. 

How apt one is to engage every thing in one's distress, when it isdeep! and one wonders too, that things animate and inanimate lookwith the same face, when we are greatly moved by any extraordinary andinteresting event. 

I sat down with my baby on my lap, looking, I believe, with arighteous boldness (I will call it so; for well says the text, _"Therighteous 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 sawher blush, and look down, and the dear gentleman seemed to eye me witha kind of conscious tenderness, as I thought. 

A silence of five minutes, I believe, succeeded, we all four lookingupon one another; and the little dear was awake, and stared full uponme, with such innocent smiles, as if he promised to love me, and makeme amends for all. 

I kissed him, and took his pretty little hand in mine--"You are verygood, my charmer, in this company!" said I. 

I remembered a scene, which made greatly for me in the papers you haveseen, when, instead of recriminating, as I might have done, before Mr. Longman for harsh usage (for, O my lady, your dear brother has a hardheart 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 proudsuperiority in my vain heart, over them all. Then it was not my partto be upon defiances, where I loved, and where I hoped to reclaim. Besides, what had I done by that, but justified, seemingly, by afteracts in a passionate resentment, to their minds, at least, their toowicked treatment of me?--Moreover, your ladyship will remember, thatMr. B. Knew not that I was acquainted with his intrigue: for I mustcall 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, mydear, that I should procure you the honour of a visit from a lady whoput 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. " Igave it another kiss, and the Countess desired another. I grudged it, to think her naughty lips should so closely follow mine. Her sisterkissed it also, and carried him to Mr. B. "Take him away, " said he, "Iowe him my blessing. "

"O these young gentlemen papas!" said the Countess--"They are likeyoung 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 couldnot tell what to say, though I tried, as much as I could not toappear sullen), desired the Countess to play one tune upon theharpsichord. --She did, and sung, at his request, an Italian song to itvery prettily; too prettily, I thought. I wanted to find some faults, some great faults in her: but, O Madam, she has too many outwardexcellencies!--pity she wants a good heart. 

He could ask nothing, that she was not ready to oblige him; indeed hecould not. 

She desired me to touch the keys. I would have been excused; but couldnot. And the ladies commended my performance; but neither my heartto 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 saidthe Viscountess. 

I replied, Mr. B. Would command me whenever he pleased. 

She said, she hoped to be better acquainted--("I hope not, " thoughtI)--and that I would give her my company, for a week or so, upon theForest: it seems she has a seat upon Windsor Forest. 

"Mr. B. Says, " added she, "you can't ride a single horse; but we'llteach you there. 'Tis a sweet place for that purpose. "

"How came Mr. B. , " thought I, "to tell _you_ that, Madam? I supposeyou know more of me than I do myself. " Indeed, my lady, this may betoo 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 Countess. 

"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 mycompany thither. "

"Then, Sir, I shan't choose to go without you. "

"I suppose not, my dear. But if you are disposed to oblige theCountess 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 thisseason. "

"Well, Madam, then I'll expect you in Pall Mall. "

I bowed my head, and said, Mr. B. Would command me. 

They took leave with a politeness natural to them. Mr. B. , as hehanded them to the chariot, said something in Italian to the Countess:the word Pamela was in what he said: she answered him with a downcastlook, in the same language, half-pleased, half-serious, and thechariot drove away. 

"I would give, " said I, "a good deal, Sir, to know what her ladyshipsaid to you; she looked with so particular a meaning, if I may sayso. "

"I'll tell you, truly, Pamela: I said to her, 'Well, now your ladyshiphas seen my Pamela--Is she not the charmingest girl in the world?'

"She answered--'Mrs. B. Is very grave, for so young a lady; but I mustneeds say she is a lovely creature. '"

"And did you say so. Sir? And did her ladyship so answer?" And myheart was ready to leap out of my bosom for joy. 

But my folly spoiled all again; for, to my own surprise, andgreat regret, I burst out into tears; though I even sobbed to havesuppressed them, but could not; and so I lost a fine opportunity tohave talked to him while he was so kind; for he was more angry with methan ever. 

What made me such a fool, I wonder? But I had so long struggled withmyself; and not expecting so kind a question from the dear gentleman, or such a favourable answer from the Countess, I had no longer anycommand of myself. 

"What ails the little fool?" said he, with a wrathful 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 hishat. I followed him--"Sir, Sir!" with my arms expanded, was all Icould say; but he avoided me, putting on his hat with an air; and outhe went, bidding Abraham follow him. 

This is the dilemma into which, as I hinted at the beginning of thisletter, I have brought myself with Mr. B. How strong, how prevalent isthe passion of jealousy; and thus it will shew itself uppermost, whenit _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 writethe above account as I have done, in this cruel suspense, and withsuch apprehensions. But writing is all the diversion I have, when mymind is oppressed. 

PAST TEN O'CLOCK AT NIGHT. 

I have only time to tell your ladyship (for the postman waits) thatMr. B. Is just come in. He is gone into his closet, and has shut thedoor, and taken the key on the inside; so I dare not go to him there. In this uncertainty and suspense, pity and pray for _your ladyship'safflicted sister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXIII

MY DEAR LADY, I will now proceed with my melancholy account. Not knowing what todo, and Mr. B. Not coming near me, and the clock striking twelve, Iventured to send this billet to him, 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 heavydispleasure, I take the liberty to write these few lines. 

"I own, Sir, that the sudden flow of tears which involuntarily burstfrom me, at your kind expressions to the Countess in my favour, whenI had thought for more than a month past, you were angry with me, and which had distressed my weak mind beyond expression, might appearunaccountable to you. But had you kindly waited but one moment tillthis fit, which was rather owing to my gratitude than to perverseness, had been over (and I knew the time when you would have generouslysoothed it), I should have had the happiness of a more serene andfavourable parting. 

"Will you suffer me, Sir, to attend you? (Polly shall wait youranswer). I dare not come _without_ your permission; for should you beas angry as you were, I know not how I shall bear it. But if you say Imay 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 Iam _your ever dutiful_, "P. B. "

Polly returned with the following. "So, " thought I, "a letter!--Icould have spared that, I am sure. " I expected no favour from it. Sotremblingly, opened it. 

"MY DEAR, "I would not have you sit up for me. We are getting apace intothe matrimonial recriminations. _You knew the time!_--So did I, mydear!--But it seems that the time is over with both; and I havehad the mortification, for some past weeks, to come home to a verydifferent Pamela, than I used to leave all company and all pleasurefor. --I hope we shall better understand one another. But you cannotsee 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. Iwish you good rest. I will give your cause a fair hearing, when Iam more fit to hear all your pleas, and your excuses. I cannot beinsensible, that the reason for the concern you have lately shewn, must lie deeper than, perhaps, you'll now own. As soon as you areprepared to speak all that is upon your mind, and I to hear it withtemper, then we may come to an eclaircissement. Till when I am _youraffectionate_, &c. "

My busy apprehension immediately suggested to me, that I was to beterrified, with a high hand, into a compliance with some new scheme orother that was projecting; and it being near one, and hearing nothingfrom Mr. B. , I bid Polly go to bed, thinking she would wonder at ourintercourse by letter, if I should send again. 

So down I ventured, my feet, however, trembling all the way, andtapped 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, venturedher life, to break in upon him unbidden. But that eastern monarch, great as he was, extended to the fainting suppliant the goldensceptre!"

He took my hand: "I hope, my dear, by this tragedy speech, we are notto expect any sad catastrophe to our present misunderstanding. "

"I hope not, Sir. But 'tis all as God and you shall please. I amresolved to do my duty, Sir, if possible. But, indeed, I cannot bearthis cruel suspense! Let me know what is to become of me. Let meknow but what is designed for me, and you shall be sure of all theacquiescence that my duty and conscience can give to your pleasure. "

"What _means_ the dear creature? What _means my_ Pamela? Surely, yourhead, child, is a little affected!"

"I can't tell, Sir, but it may!--But let me have my trial, that youwrite about. Appoint my day of hearing, and speedily too; for I wouldnot 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 yourmind has taken much too solemn a turn, to enter further now upon thissubject. Think as well of me as I do of you, and I shall be as happyas ever. "

I wept, "Be not angry, dear Sir: your kind words have just the sameeffect 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 thesubject for a few days, because I am to set out on a little journey atfour, and had not intended to go to bed, for so few hours. "

When we came up, I said, "I was very bold. Sir, to break in upon you;but I could not help it, if my life had been the forfeit; and youreceived me with more goodness than I could have expected. But willyou pardon me, if I ask, whither you go so soon? And if you hadintended to have gone without taking leave of me?"

"I go to Tunbridge, my dear. I should have stept up and taken leave ofyou before I went. "

"Well, Sir, I will not ask you, who is of your party: I will not--No, "(putting my hand to his lips) "don't tell me. Sir: it mayn't beproper. "

"Don't fear, my dear; I won't tell you: nor am I certain whether itbe _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 oneas 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 hishead on the pillow, but he fell asleep, or feigned to do so, and thatwas as prohibitory to my talking as if he had. So I had all my ownentertaining reflections to myself; which gave me not one wink ofsleep; but made me of so much service, as to tell him, when the clockstruck four, that he should not (though I did not say so, you maythink, Madam) make my ready rivaless (for I doubted not her being oneof the party) wait for him. 

He arose, and was dressed instantly; and saluting me, bid me be easyand happy, while it was _yet_ in my own power. 

He said, he should be back on Saturday night, as he believed. And Iwished him, most fervently, I am sure, health, pleasure, and safety. 

Here, Madam, must I end this letter. My next, will, perhaps contain mytrial, and my sentence: God give me but patience and resignation, andthen whatever occurs, I shall not be unhappy: especially while Ican have, in the last resource, the pleasure of calling myself _yourladyship's most obliged sister and servant_, P. B. 

 * * * * *

LETTER LXXIV

My dear Lady, I will be preparing to write to you, as I have opportunity, not doubting but this must be a long letter; and having someapprehensions, that, as things may fall out, I may want either heador heart to write to your ladyship, were I to defer it till thecatastrophe of this cruel suspense. 

O what a happiness am I sunk from!--And in so few days too! O thewicked masquerades!

The following letter, in a woman's hand, and signed, as you'll see, bya woman's name, and spelt as I spell it, will account to your ladyshipfor my beginning so heavily. It came by the penny-post. 

"Madame, "I ame unknowne to yowe; but yowe are not so altogathar to mee, becausI haue bene edefy'd by yowre pius behafiorr att church, whir I seeyowe with playsir everie Sabbaoth day. I ame welle acquaintid with thefamely of the Coumptesse of---; and yowe maie passiblie haue hard whatyou wished not to haue hard concerninge hir. Butt this veriemorninge, I can assur yowe, hir ladishippe is gon with yowre spowse toTonbrigge; and theire they are to take lodgings, or a hous; and Mr. B. Is after to come to town, and settel matters to go downe to hir, wherethey are to liue as man and wiffe. Make what use yowe pleas of thissinformasion: and belieue me to haue no other motife, than to serueyowe, becavs of yowre vartues, whiche make yowe deserue a betterretorne, I am, thof I shall not set my trewe name, _yowre greteadmirer and seruant_, "THOMASINE FULLER. 

"Wednesday morninge, "9 o'clock. "

Just above I called my state, a state of _cruel suspense_. But Irecall the words: for now it is no longer suspense; since, if thisletter says truth, I know the worst: and there is too much appearancethat it does, let the writer be who he will, or his or her motive whatit 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 coolreflection, to bring my mind to bear this heavy evil, and to recollectwhat I _was_, and how much more honourable an estate I _am in_, thanI could ever have expected to be in; that my virtue and good name aresecured; and I can return innocent to my dear parents: and these wereonce the only pride of my heart. 

In addition to what I was then (and yet I pleased myself with myprospects, poor as they were), I have honest parents, bountifullyprovided for, thank God and your ever-dear brother for thisblessing!--and not only provided for--but made useful to him, to theamount of their provision, well-nigh! There is a pride, my lady!

Then I shall have better conditions from his generosity to supportmyself, than I can wish for, or make use of. 

Then I have my dear Billy-O be contented, too charming, and too happyrival, with my husband; and tear not from me my dearest baby, thepledge, the beloved pledge, of our happier affections, and the dearremembrance of what I once was!--A thousand pleasing prospects, thathad begun to dawn on my mind, I can bear to have dissipated! But Icannot, indeed I cannot! permit my dear Mr. B. 's son and heir to betorn from me. 

But I am running on in a strain that shews my impatience, rather thanmy resignation; yet some struggles must be allowed me: I could nothave loved, as I love, if I could easily part with my interest in sobeloved a husband. --For my interest I _will_ part with, and soonerdie, than live with a gentleman who has another wife, though I wasthe first. Let countesses, if they can, and ladies of birth, choose tohumble themselves to this baseness. The low-born Pamela cannot stoopto it. Pardon me; you know I only write this with a view to this poorlady'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 nowforming new ones, with as much pleasure to myself as I may. 

I am thinking to try to get good Mrs. Jervis with me. You must not, Madam, be too much concerned for me. After a while, I shall be nounhappy 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 dazzlingcharms with me as it has with some: if it had, I could not haveresisted 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 themother of Sisera say, "is his chariot so long in coming? Why tarry thewheels of his chariot?"

I have this note now at eleven o'clock:

"MY DEAREST PAMELA, "I dispatch the messenger, lest, expecting me this night, you shouldbe uneasy. I shall not be with you till Monday, when I hope to dinewith my dearest life. _Ever affectionately yours_. "

So I'll go up and pray for him, and then to bed. --Yet 'tis a sadthing!--I have had but poor rest for a great while; nor shall haveany till my fate is decided. --Hard-hearted man, he knows under whatuneasiness he left me!

MONDAY, ELEVEN. 

If God Almighty hears my yesterday's, and indeed my hourly, prayers, the dear man will be good still; but my aching heart, every time Ithink 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 overbefore this night be past, if possible. I'll go down and meet him withlove unfeigned, and a duty equal to my love, although he may forgethis to me. If I conquer myself on this occasion, I conquer nature, as your ladyship says: and then, by God's grace, I can conquer everything. They have taken their house, I suppose: but what need they, when they'll have one in Bedfordshire, and one in Lincolnshire? Butthey know best. God bless him, and reform her! That's all the harm Iwish them, or will wish them!

My dear Mr. B. Has received me with great affection and tenderness. Sure he cannot be so bad!--Sure he cannot!

"I know, my dear, " said he, "I left you in great anxiety; but 'tis ananxiety you have brought upon yourself; and I have not been easy eversince I parted from you. "

"I am sorry for it, Sir. "

"Why, my dear love, there is still a melancholy air in yourcountenance: indeed, it seems mingled with a kind of joy; I hope atmy return to you. But 'tis easy to see which of the two is the mostnatural. "

"You should see nothing. Sir, that you would not wish to see, if Icould help it. "

"I am sorry you cannot. But I am come home to hear all yourgrievances, and to redress them, if in my power. "

"When, Sir, am I to come upon my trial? I have much to say. I willtell you everything I think. And, as it may be the last _grievances_, as you are pleased to call them, I may ever trouble you with, you mustpromise to answer me not one word till I have done. For, if it doesbut hold, I have great courage, indeed I you don't know half thesauciness 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 meexceedingly, by this moving sedateness. "

"Don't let it alarm you. Sir! I mean nothing but good!--But I havebeen preparing myself to tell you all my mind. And as an instance ofwhat 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 atlast 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, toyou!--When comes on the trial. Sir?"

He looked steadily upon me, but was silent. And I said, "But don'tbe afraid, Sir, that I will invade your province; for though I shallcount myself your judge, in some cases, you shall be judge paramountstill. "

"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 usinstantly go to my closet, or yours, and come upon our mutual trial;for you have fired my soul with impatience!"

"No, Sir, if you please, we will dine first. I have hardly eaten anything these four days; and your company may give me an appetite. Ishall be pleased to sit down at table with you. Sir, " taking his hand, and trying to smile upon him; "for the moments I have of your company, may be, some time hence, very precious to my remembrance. "

I was then forced to turn my head, to hide from him my eyes, brimfulas 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. Youare displeased with _me_, and I thought I had reason, of late, to takesomething amiss in _your_ conduct; but, instead of your suffering bymy 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 howshall I retain my purpose? How shall I!"

"Dear, dear creature! make not use of _all_ your power to melt me!_Half_ of it is enough. For there is eloquence in your eyes I cannotresist; but in your present solemn air, and affecting sentences, youmould 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! PerhapsI have only been in a frightful dream, and am but just nowawakened. --But we will not anticipate our trial. Only, Sir, giveorders, that you are not to be spoken with by any body, when we havedined; for I must have you all to myself, without interruption. "

Just as I had said this, a gentleman calling, I retired to my chamber, and wrote to this place. 

Mr. B. Dismissed his friend, without asking him to dine; so I hadhim all to myself at dinner--But we said little, and sat not above aquarter of an hour; looking at each other: he, with impatience, andsome seeming uneasiness; I with more steadiness, I believe, but nowand then a tear starting. 

I eat but little, though I tried all I could, and especially as hehelped me, and courted me with tenderness and sweetness--O why wereever such things as _masquerades_ permitted in a Christian nation!

I chose to go into _my_ closet rather than into _his_; and here Isit, waiting the dear gentleman's coming up to me. If I keep but mycourage, I shall be pleased. I know the worst, and that will helpme; for he is too noble to use me roughly, when he sees I mean not toprovoke him by upbraidings, any more than I will act, in this case, beneath the character I ought to assume as his wife. 

Mr. B. Came up, with great impatience in his looks. I met him at thechamber door, with a very sedate countenance, and my heart washigh with my purpose, and supported me better than I could haveexpected. --Yet, on recollection, now I impute to myself somethingof that kind of magnanimity, that was wont to inspire the innocentsufferers of old, for a still worthier cause than mine; though theirmotives could hardly be more pure, in that one hope I had, to be anhumble means of saving the man I love and honour, from errors thatmight be fatal to his soul. 

I took his hand with boldness:--"Dear Sir, " leading him to my closet, "here is the bar at which I am to take my trial, " pointing to thebacks of three chairs, which I had placed in a joined row, leavingjust room to go by on each side. "You must give me, Sir, all my ownway; this is the first, and perhaps the last time, that I shall desireit. --Nay, dear Sir, " turning my face from him, "look not upon me withan eye of tenderness: if you do I may lose my purposes, important tome as they are; and however fantastic my behaviour may seem to you, I want not to move your passions (for the good impressions made uponthem may be too easily dissipated by the winds of _sense_, ) but_your reason_; and if that can be done, I am safe, and shall fear norelapse. "

"What means all this parade, my dear? Let me perish, " that was hisword, "if I know how to account for _you_, or your _humour_. "

"You _will_, presently. Sir. But give me all my ways--I pray youdo--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 yourquestions. "

"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 notsay I am a criminal. I know I am not. But that must be proved, Sir, you know. "

"Well, take your way; but I fear for your head, my dear, in all this. "

"I fear only my heart, Sir, that's all! but there you must sit--Sohere, " (retiring to the three chairs, and leaning on the backs, ) "hereI stand. "

"And now, my dearest Mr. B. , you must begin first; you must be myaccuser, as well as my judge. "

"I have nothing to accuse you of, my dear, if I _must_ give in to yourmoving whimsy. You are everything I wish you to be. But for the lastmonth you have seemed to be uneasy, and have not done me the justiceto acquaint me with your reasons for it. "

"I was in hopes my reasons might have proved to be no reasons; and Iwould not trouble you with my ungrounded apprehensions. But now, Sir, we are come directly to the point; and methinks I stand here as Pauldid 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 Felix did, tremble, don't put me off to _another day_, to a _more convenient season_, as that governor did Paul; for you mustbear patiently with all that I have to say. "

"Strange, uncommon girl I how unaccountable is all this!--Pr'ythee, my dear, " and he pulled a chair by him, "come and sit down by me, andwithout these romantic airs let me hear all you have to say; and teazeme not with this parade. "

"No, Sir, let me stand, if you please, while I can stand; when weary Iwill sit down at my bar. 

"Now, Sir, since you are so good as to say, you have nothing butchange of temper to accuse me of, I am to answer to that, and assign acause; and I will do it without evasion or reserve; but I beseech yousay not one word but Yes or No, to my questions, till I have saidall I have to say, and then you shall find me all silence andresignation. "

"Well, my strange dear!--But sure your head is a little turned!--Whatis your question?"

"Whether, Sir, the Nun--I speak boldly; the cause requires it--whofollowed you at the Masquerade every where, is not the Countess of--?"

"What then, my dear:" (speaking with quickness, )--"I _thought_ theoccasion of your sullenness and reserve was this!--But, Pamela--"

"Nay, Sir, " interrupted I, "only Yes, or No, if you please: I will beall silence by-and-by. "

"Yes, 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, _before_ thatletter from her ladyship came, which you received from my hand inso short and angry a manner, for fear of my curiosity to see itscontents, which would have been inexcusable in me, I own, if I had. You have talked over to her all your polygamy notions, and she seemsso well convinced of them, as to declare to her noble uncle (whoexpostulated with her on the occasions she gave for talk, ) that shehad rather be a certain gentleman's second wife, than the first to thegreatest man in England: and you are but just returned from a journeyto Tunbridge, in which that lady was a party; and the motive for it, Iam acquainted with, by this letter. "

He was displeased, and frowned: I looked down, being resolved not tobe terrified, if I could help it. 

"I have cautioned you, Pamela----"

"I know you have, Sir, " interrupted I; "but be pleased to answer me. Has not the Countess taken a house or lodgings at Tunbridge?"

"She has; and what then?"

"And is her ladyship there, or in town?"

"_There_--and what then?"

"Are you to go to Tunbridge, Sir, soon, or not?--Be pleased to answerbut that one question. "

"I _will_ know, " rising up in anger, "your informants, Pamela. "

"Dear Sir, so you shall, in proper time: you shall know all, when I amconvinced, that your wrath will not be attended with bad consequencesto yourself and others. That is wholly the cause of my reserve in thispoint; for I have not had a thought, since I have been yours, that Iwished to be concealed from you. --But your knowledge of the informantsmakes nothing at all as to the truth of the information--Nor will Ipress you too home. I doubt not, you are soon to return to Tunbridge?"

"I _am_, and what then?--Must the consequence be crime enough towarrant your jealousy?"

"Dear Sir, don't be so angry, " still looking down; for I durst nottrust myself to look up. "I don't do this, as your letter charged me, in a spirit of matrimonial recrimination: if you don't _tell_ me, thatyou see the Countess with pleasure, I _ask_ it not of you; nor have Ianything to say by way of upbraiding. 'Tis my misfortune, that she istoo lovely, and too attractive: and it is the less wonder, that a fineyoung gentleman as you are, and a fine young lady as she is, shouldengage one another's affections. 

"I knew every thing, except what this letter which you shall readpresently, communicates, when you brought the two noble sisters tovisit me: hence proceeded my grief; and should I, Sir, have deservedto be what I am, if I was _not_ grieved? Religion has helped me, andGod has answered my supplications, and enabled me to act this newuncommon part before you at this imaginary bar. You shall see, Sir, that as, on one hand, I want not, as I said before, to move yourpassions in my favour; so, on the other, I shall not be terrified byyour displeasure, dreaded by me as it used to be, and as it will beagain, the moment that my raised spirits sink down to their usuallevel, or are diverted from this my long meditated purpose, to tellyou all my mind. 

"I repeat, then, Sir, that I knew all this, when the two noble sisterscame to visit your poor girl, and to see your Billy. Yet, _grave_ asthe Countess called me, (dear Sir! might I not well be grave, knowingwhat I knew?) did I betray any impatience of speech or action, or anydiscomposure?

"No, Sir, " putting my hand on my breast, "_here_ all my discomposurelay, vehemently struggling, now and then, and wanting that vent of myeyes, which it seems (overcome by my joy, to hear myself favourablyspoken of by you and the lady, ) it _too soon_ made itself. But I couldnot help it--You might have seen. Sir, I could not!

"But I want neither to recriminate nor expostulate; nor yet, Sir, toform excuses for my general conduct; for that you accuse not in themain--but be pleased, Sir, to read this letter. It was brought by thepenny-post, as you'll see by the mark. Who the writer is, I know not. And did _you_, Sir, that knowledge, and your resentment upon it, willnot alter the fact, or give it a more favourable appearance. "

I stepped to him, and giving him the letter, came back to my bar, andsat down on one of the chairs while he read it, drying my eyes; forthey would overflow as I talked, do what I could. 

He was much moved at the contents of this letter; called it malice, and hoped he might find out the author of it, saying, he wouldadvertise 500 guineas reward for the discoverer. 

He put the letter in his pocket, "Well, Pamela, you believe all youhave said, no doubt: and this matter has a black appearance, indeed, if you do. But who was your _first_ informant?--Was that by letter orpersonally? That Turner, I doubt not, is at the bottom of all this. The vain coxcomb has had the insolence to imagine the Countess wouldfavour an address of his; and is enraged to meet with a repulse; andhas taken liberties upon it, that have given birth to all the scandalsscattered about on this occasion. Nor do I doubt but he has been theSerpent at the ear of my Eve. "

I stood up at the bar, and said, "Don't be too hasty, Sir, in yourjudgment--You _may_ be mistaken. "

"But _am_ I mistaken, Pamela?--You never told me an untruth in casesthe most important to you to conceal. _Am_ I mistaken?"

"Dear Sir, if I should tell you it is _not_ Mr. Turner, you'll guessat somebody else: and what avails all this to the matter in hand? Youare your own master, and must stand or fall by your own conscience. God grant that _that_ may acquit you!--But my intention is not eitherto accuse or upbraid you. "

"But, my dear, to the fact then:--This is a malicious and a villainouspiece of intelligence, given you, perhaps, for the sake of designs andviews, that may not yet be proper to be avowed. "

"By God's grace, Sir, I defy all designs and views of any one, upon myhonour!"

"But, my dear, the charge is basely false: we have not agreed upon anysuch way of life. "

"Well, Sir, all this only proves, that the intelligence may be alittle premature. But now let me, Sir, sit down one minute, to recovermy failing spirits, and then I'll tell you all I purpose to do, andall I have to say, and that with as much brevity as I can, for fearneither my head nor my heart should perform the part I have been solong in endeavouring to prevail upon them to perform. "

I sat down then, he taking out the letter, and reading it again withmuch vexation and anger in his countenance; and after a few tearsand sobs, that would needs be so officious as to offer their service, unbidden, and undesired, to introduce what I had to say; I rose up, myfeet trembling, as well as my knees; which, however, leaning againstthe seats of the chairs, that made my bar, as my hand held by theback, tolerably supported me, I cleared my voice, wiped my eyes, andsaid:

"You have all the excuse, dear Mr. B. , that a gentleman can have inthe object of your present passion. "

"Present passion, Pamela!"

"Dear Sir, hear me without interruption. 

"The Countess is a charming lady. She excels your poor girl in allthose outward graces of form, which your kind fancy (more valued by methan the opinion of all the world besides) had made you attributeto me. And she has all those additional advantages, as nobleness ofbirth, of alliance, and deportment, which I want. (Happy for you, Sir, that you had known her ladyship some months ago, before you disgracedyourself by the honours you have done me!) This therefore frees youfrom the aggravated crime of those, who prefer, to their own ladies, less amiable and less deserving persons; and I have not the stingwhich those must have, who are contemned and ill-treated for the sakeof their inferiors. Yet cannot the Countess love you better than yourgirl loves you, not even for your person, which must, I doubt, be_her_ principal attachment! when I can truly say, all nobleand attracting to the outward eye as it is, that is the leastconsideration by far with me: no, Sir, your generous and beneficentmind, is the principal object of my affection; and my pride in hopingto be an humble means, in the hands of Providence, to bless you_hereafter_ as well as _here_, gave me more pleasure than all theblessings I reaped from your name or your fortune. Judge then, mydearest Mr. B. , my grief and disappointment. 

"But I will not expostulate: I _will not_, because it _must_ be to nopurpose; for could my fondness, and my watchful duty to you, have keptyou steady, I should not now appear before you in this solemn manner:and I know the charms of my rival are too powerful for me to contendwith. Nothing but divine grace can touch your heart: and that I expectnot, from the nature of the case, should be instantaneous. 

"I will therefore. Sir, dear as you are to me--(Don't look with suchtender surprise upon me!) give up your person to the happier, to my_worthier_ rival. For since such is your will, and seem to be yourengagements, what avails it to me to oppose them?

"I have only to beg, that you will be so good as to permit me togo down to Kent, to my dear parents, who, with many more, are dailyrejoicing in your favour and bounty. I will there" (holding up myfolded hands) "pray for you every hour of my life; and for every onewho shall be dear to you, not excepting the charming Countess. 

"I will never take your name into my lips, nor suffer any other inmy hearing, but with reverence and gratitude, for the good I and mine_have_ reaped at your hands: nor wish to be freed from my obligationsto you, except you shall choose to be divorced from me; and if soI will give your wishes all the forwardness I honourably can, withregard to my own character and yours, and that of your beloved baby. 

"But you must give me something worth living for along with you; yourBilly and mine!--Unless it is your desire to kill me quite! and then'tis done, and nothing will stand in your happy Countess's way, ifyou tear from my arms my _second_ earthly good, after I am deprived ofyou, my first. 

"I will there, Sir, dedicate all my time to my first duties; happierfar, than once I could have hoped to be! And if, by any accident, andmisunderstanding between you, you should part by consent, and youwill have it so, my heart shall be ever yours, and my hopes shall beresumed of being an instrument still for your future good, and I willreceive your returning ever-valued heart, as if nothing had happened, the moment I can be sure it will be wholly mine. 

"For, think not, dear Sir, whatever be your notions of polygamy, that I will, were my life to depend upon it, consent to live with agentleman, dear as, God is my witness, " (lifting up my tearful eyes)"you are to me, who lives in what I cannot but think open sin withanother! You _know_, Sir, and I appeal to you for the purity, and Iwill aver piety of my motives, when I say this, that I _would not_;and as you do know this, I cannot doubt but nay proposal will beagreeable to you both. And I beg of you, dear Sir, to take me at myword; and don't let me be tortured, as I have been so many weeks, withsuch anguish of mind, that nothing but religious considerations canmake supportable to me. "

"And are you in earnest, Pamela?" coming to me, and folding me in hisarms over the chair's back, the seat of which supported my tremblingknees, "Can you so easily part with me?"

"I can, Sir, and I will!--rather than divide my interest in you, knowingly, 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 whatyou had intended should become of me?"

"You talk to me, my dearest life, as if all you had heard againstme was true; and you would have me answer you, (would you?) as if itwas. "

"I want nothing to convince me, Sir, that the Countess loves you:you know the rest of my information: judge for me, what I can, what Iought to believe!--You know the rumours of the world concerning you:Even I, who stay so much at home, and have not taken the least painsto find out my wretchedness, nor to confirm it, since I knew it, havecome to the hearing of it; and if you know the licence taken with bothyour characters, and yet correspond so openly, must it not look to methat you value not your honour in the world's eye, nor my lady hers? Itold you, Sir, the answer she made to her uncle. "

"You told me, my dear, as you were told. Be tender of a lady'sreputation--for your own sake. No one is exempted from calumny; andeven words said, and the occasion of saying them not known, may beara very different construction from 'what they would have done, had theoccasion been told. "

"This may be all true. Sir: I wish the lady would be as tender of herreputation as I would be, let her injure me in your affections as shewill. But can you say, Sir, that there is nothing between you, thatshould _not_ be, according to _my_ notions of virtue and honour, andaccording to your _own_, which I took pride in, before that fatalmasquerade?

"You answer me not, " continued I; "and may I not fairly presume youcannot as I wish to be answered? But come, dearest Sir, " (and I putmy arms around his neck) "let me not urge you too boldly. I will neverforget your benefits, and your past kindnesses to me. I have been ahappy creature: no one, till within these few weeks, was ever so happyas I. I will love you still with a passion as ardent as ever I lovedyou. 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 canmake it easy to your conscience, I will wait with patience my happierdestiny; and I will wish to live (if I can be convinced you wish menot to die) in order to pray for you, and to be a directress to thefirst 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 worthyof the honour in your estimation. 

"But yet, my dear Mr. B. , if one could as easily, in the prime ofsensual youth, look twenty years backward, what an empty vanity, whata mere nothing, will be all those grosser satisfactions, that now givewings of desire to our debased appetites!

"Motives of religion will have their due force upon _your_ mind oneday, I hope; as, blessed be God, they have enabled _me_ to talk to youon such a touching point (after infinite struggles, I own, ) with somuch temper and resignation; and then, my dearest Mr. B. , when we cometo 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, dearSir, your Countess, and you, and your poor Pamela, must all come tothis!--we shall find what it is will give us true joy, and enable usto 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 onmy throbbing bosom, ) "that _then_, in that important moment, whatnow gives us the greatest pleasure, will have any part in ourconsideration, 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. Whyshould I thus sadden all your gaudy prospects? I have said enough tosuch a heart as yours, if Divine grace touches it. And if not, all Ican say will be of no avail!--I will leave you therefore to that, andto your own reflections. And after giving you ten thousand thanks foryour indulgent patience with me, I will only beg, that I may set outin a week for Kent, with my dear Billy; that you will receive oneletter at least, from me, of gratitude and blessings; it shall not beof upbraidings and exclamations. 

"But my child you must not deny me; for I shall haunt, like hisshadow, every place wherein you shall put my Billy, if you should beso unkind to deny him to me!--And if you will permit me to have thedear Miss Goodwin with me, as you had almost led me to hope, I willread over all the books of education, and digest them, as well as I amable, in order to send you my scheme, and to show you how fit, I hopeyour _indulgence_, at least, will make you think me, of having twosuch precious trusts reposed in me!"

I was silent, waiting in tears his answer. But his generous heart wastouched, and seemed to labour within him for expression. 

He came round to me at last, and took me in his arms; "Exaltedcreature!" said he: "noble-minded Pamela! Let no bar be put betweenus henceforth! No wonder, when one looks back to your first promisingdawn of excellence, that your fuller day should thus irresistiblydazzle such weak eyes as mine. Whatever it costs me, and I have beeninconsiderately led on by blind passion for 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 yourown. "

"O Sir, Sir, " (and I should have sunk with joy, had not his kind armssupported me, ) "what have you said?--Can I be so happy as to beholdyou innocent as to deed! God, of his infinite goodness, continue youboth 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 herperson!"

"You are virtue itself, my dearest life; and from this moment I willreverence you as my tutelary angel. I shall behold you with awe, andimplicitly give up myself to all your dictates: for what you _say_, and what you _do_, must be ever right. But I will not, my dearestlife, too lavishly promise, lest you should think it the suddeneffects of passions thus movingly touched, and which may subsideagain, when the soul, as you observed in your own case, sinks to itsformer level: but this I promise (and I hope you believe me, and willpardon 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 acorrespondence that has given you so much uneasiness: and my Pamelamay believe, that if I can be as good as my word in this point, shewill never more be in danger of any rival whatever. 

"But say, my dear love, " added he, "say you forgive me; and resume butyour former cheerfulness, and affectionate regards to me, else I shallsuspect the sincerity of your forgiveness: and you shall indeed go toKent, but not without me, nor your boy neither; and if you insist uponit, 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? Noindeed I could not. I was just choked with my joy; I never was sobefore. 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; forthe sight was out of its orbits, in a manner lifted up to heaven--inecstasy for a turn so sudden, and so unexpected!

We were forced to separate soon after; for there was no bearing eachother, so excessive was my Joy, and his goodness. He left me, and wentdown to his own closet. 

Judge my employment you will, I am sure, my dear lady. I had newecstasy to be blest with, in a thankfulness so exalted, that it leftme all light and pleasant, as if I had shook off body, and trod inair; 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 themedium? For when I had given up my beloved husband, as lost to me, andhad dreaded the consequences to his future state: to find him not onlyuntainted as to deed, but, in all probability, mine upon better andsurer terms than ever--O, Madam! must not this give a joy beyond alljoy, 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 yourladyship to return me. 

"My dear Pamela, "I have so much real concern at the anguish I have given you, and amso much affected with the recollection of the uncommon scenes whichpassed between us, just now, that I write, because I know not howto look so excellent a creature in the face--You must therefore supwithout me, and take your Mrs. Jervis to bed with you; who, I doubtnot, knows all this affair; and you may tell her the happy event. 

"You must not interfere with me just now, while writing upon a subjectwhich 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 havewritten to your mother, Miss Darnford, or to Lady Davers, anything ofthis affair, you must shew me the copies, and let me into every tittlehow 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), thatnot 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 mustcomply with, if you can confide in me; for I shall make some use of it(as prudent a 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 theletters I require to see, or whatever any of those, to whom theyare directed, shall say, on the bad prospect, shall be forgiven, andlooked upon as deserved, by your _ever-obliged and faithful_, &c. "

I returned the following:

"Dearest, dear Sir, "I will not break in upon you, while you are so importantly employed. Mrs. Jervis has indeed seen my concern for some time past, and hasheard rumours, as I know by hints she has given me; but her prudence, and my reserves, have kept us from saying anything to one another ofit. Neither my mother nor Miss Darnford know a tittle of it from me. I have received a letter of civility from Miss, and have answered it, taking and giving thanks for the pleasure of each other's company, andbest respects from her, and the Lincolnshire families, to your dearself. These, my copy, and her original, you shall see when you please. But, in truth, all that has passed, is between Lady Davers and me, andI have not kept copies of mine; but I will dispatch a messenger to herladyship for them, if you please, in the morning, before it is light, not doubting your kind promise of excusing everything and everybody. 

"I beg, dear Sir, you will take care your health suffers not by yoursitting up; for the nights are cold and damp. 

"I will, now you have given me the liberty, let Mrs. Jervis know howhappy you have made me, by dissipating my 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 _yourever-dutiful_

P. B. "

He was pleased to return me this:

"MY DEAR LIFE, "You need not be in such haste to send. If you write to Lady Davershow the matter has ended, let me see the copy of it: and be veryparticular in your, or rather, my trial. It shall be a standing lessonto me for my future instruction; as it will be a fresh demonstrationof your excellence, which every hour I more and more admire. I am gladLady Davers only knows the matter. I think I ought to avoid seeingyou, till I can assure you, that every thing is accommodated to yourdesire. Longman has sent me some advices, which will make it properfor me to meet him at Bedford or Gloucester. I will not go toTunbridge, till I have all your papers; and so you'll have threedays to procure them. Your boy, and your penmanship, will find youno disagreeable employment till I return. Nevertheless, on secondthoughts, I will do myself the pleasure of breakfasting with you inthe morning, to re-assure you of my unalterable purpose to approvemyself, _my dearest life, ever faithfully yours. "_

Thus, I hope, is happily ended this dreadful affair. My next shallgive the particulars of our breakfast conversation. But I would notslip this post, without acquainting you with this blessed turn; and tobeg the favour of you to send me back my letters; which will lay anew obligation upon, _dear Madam, your obliged sister, and humbleservant, _ P. B. 

LETTER LXXV

MY DEAREST LADY, Your joyful correspondent has obtained leave to get every thing: readyto quit London by Friday next, when your kind brother promises tocarry me down to Kent, and allows me to take my charmer with me. There's happiness for you, Madam! To see, as I hope I shall see, uponone blessed spot, a dear faithful husband, a beloved child, and afather and mother, whom I so much love and honour!

Mr. B. Told me this voluntarily, this morning at breakfast; and then, in the kindest manner, took leave of me, and set out for Bedfordshire. 

But I should, according to my promise, give you a few particulars ofour breakfast conference. 

I bid Polly withdraw, when her master came up to breakfast; and I ranto the door to meet him, and threw myself on my knees: "O forgiveme, dearest, dear Sir, all my boldness of yesterday!--My heart wasstrangely affected--or I could not have acted as I did. But neverfear, my dearest Mr. B. , that my future conduct shall be differentfrom what it used to be, or that I shall keep up to a spirit, whichyou hardly thought had place in the heart of your dutiful Pamela, tillshe was thus severely tried. "--"I have weighed well your conduct, mydear life, " raising me to his bosom; "and I find an uniformity in it, that is surprisingly just. "

He led me to the tea-table, and sat down close by me. Polly came in. "If every thing, " said he, "be here, that your lady wants, you maywithdraw; and let Colbrand and Abraham know I shall be with thempresently. Nobody shall wait upon me but you, my dear. " Pollywithdrew. 

"I always _loved_ you, my dearest, " added he, "and that with apassionate fondness, which has not, I dare say, many examples in themarried life: but I _revere_ you now. And so great is my reverence foryour virtue, that I chose to sit up all night, to leave you for a fewdays, until, by disengaging myself from all intercourses that havegiven you uneasiness, I can convince you, that I have rendered myselfas worthy as I can be, of you upon your own terms. I will account toyou for every step I _shall_ take, and will reveal to you every stepI have taken: for this I _can_ do, because the lady's honour isuntainted, and wicked rumour has treated her worse than she coulddeserve. "

I told him, that since _he_ had named the lady, I would take theliberty to say, I was glad, for her own sake, to hear that. Changingthe subject a little precipitately, as if it gave him pain, he toldme, as above, that I might prepare on Friday for Kent; and I partedwith him with greater pleasure than ever I did in my life. Sonecessary sometimes are afflictions, not only to teach one how tosubdue one's passions, and to make us, in our happiest states, knowwe are still on earth, but even when they are overblown to augment andredouble our joys!

I am now giving orders for my journey, and quitting this undelightfultown, as it has been, and is, to me. My next will be from Kent, Ihope; and I may then have an opportunity to acquaint your ladyshipwith the particulars, and (if God answers my prayers), the conclusionof the affair, which has given me so much uneasiness. 

Meantime, I am, with the greatest gratitude, for the kind share youhave taken in my past afflictions, my good lady, _your ladyship's mostobliged sister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXVI

My dearest Pamela, Inclosed are all the letters you send for. I rejoice with you uponthe turn this afflicting affair has taken, through your inimitableprudence, and a courage I thought not in you. A wretch!--to give youso much discomposure!--But I will not, if he be good now, rave againsthim, as I was going to do. I am impatient to hear what account hegives of the matter. I hope he will be able to abandon this--I won'tcall 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?--Andhow watchful ought they to be over themselves!--She was hardly out ofher weeds, and yet must go to a masquerade, and tempt her fate, withall her passions about her, with an independence, and an affluence offortune, that made her able to think of nothing but gratifying them. 

She has good qualities--is generous--is noble--but has strongpassions, and is thoughtless and precipitant. 

My lord came home last Tuesday, with a long story of my brother andher: for I had kept the matter as secret as I could, for his sake andyours. It seems he had it from Sir John----, uncle to the young LordC. , who is very earnest to bring on a treaty of marriage betweenher and his nephew, who is in love with her, and is a fine younggentleman; but has held back, on the liberties she has lately givenherself 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 greatopinion of his veracity: and yet he is so bold a wretch!--And herinconsideration is so great!

But lest I should alarm your fears, I will wait till I have theaccount he gives you of this dark affair; till when, I congratulateyou upon the leave you have obtained to quit the town, and on yoursetting 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 betoo secure, lest the disappointment should be worse for you, thanwhat you knew before: but assure yourself, that I am in all cases andevents, _your affectionate sister and admirer_, B. DAVERS. 

LETTER LXXVII

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers. _

MY DEAREST LADY, Mr. B. Came back from Bedfordshire to his time. Every thing being inreadiness, we set out with my baby, and his nurse. Mrs. Jervis, when every thing in London is settled by her direction, goes toBedfordshire. 

We were met by my father and mother in a chaise and pair, which yourkind brother had presented to them unknown to me, that they mightoften take the air together, and go to church in it (which is at somedistance) on Sundays. The driver is clothed in a good brown clothsuit, but no livery; for that my parents could not have borne, as Mr. B. 's goodness made him consider. 

Your ladyship must needs think, how we were all overjoyed at thismeeting: for my own part I cannot express how much I was transportedwhen we arrived at the farm-house, to see all I delighted in, upon onehappy spot together. 

Mr. B. Is much pleased with the alterations here: and it is a sweet, rural, and convenient place. 

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 happyissue, attend that affair, I pray God! He has given me the followingparticulars of it, to the time of my trial, beginning at themasquerade. 

He says, that at the masquerade, when, pleased with the fair Nun'sshape, air and voice, he had followed her to a corner most unobserved, she said in Italian, "Why are my retirements invaded, audaciousSpaniard?"--"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 unmaskingsurprised me, " said Mr. B. , "with a face as beautiful, but not sosoft as my Pamela's. "--"And I, " said Mr. B. , "to shew I can defyyour resentment, will shew you a countenance as intrepid as yours islovely. " And so he drew aside his mask too. 

He says, he observed his fair Nun to be followed wherever she went, bya mask habited like Testimony in Sir Courtly Nice, whose attention wasfixed 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 MissDarnford, 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 had thedress of an Indian Princess, and the mask of an Ethiopian, his fairNun 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 anylady comparable to my lovely Nun. "

"And what is the result?"--"Not one: no not one. "--"I wish you couldnot help being in earnest, " said she; and slid from him. 

He engaged her next at the sideboard, drinking under her veil a glassof Champaign. "You know, Pamela, " said he, "there never was a sweetermouth in the world than the Countess's except your own. " She drew awaythe glass, as if unobserved by any body, to shew me the lower part ofher face. 

"I cannot say, but I was struck with her charming manner, and anunreservedness of air and behaviour, that I had not before seen sobecoming. The place, and the freedom of conversation and deportmentallowed there, gave her great advantages in my eye, although her habitrequired, as I thought, a little more gravity and circumspection: andI could not tell how to resist a secret pride and vanity, which is buttoo natural to both sexes, when they are taken notice of by persons soworthy of regard. 

"Naturally fond of every thing that carried the face of an intrigue, Ilonged to know who this charming Nun was. And next time I engagedher, 'My good sister, ' said I, 'how happy should I be, if I might beadmitted to a conversation with you at your grate!'

"'Answer me, ' said she, 'thou bold Spaniard, ' (for that was a nameshe seemed fond of, which gave me to imagine, that boldness was aqualification she was not displeased with. 'Tis not unusualwith our vain sex, " observed he, "to construe even reproachesto our advantage, ") 'is the lady here, whose shackles thouwearest?'--'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_. '--'Neither, ' replied I, taking, by equivocation, herquestion literally. 

"'And art thou not a married wretch? Answer me quickly!--We areobserved. '--'No, ' said I. --'Swear to me, thou art not. '--'By St. Ignatius, 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, 'Thatfair Quaker, yonder, is the wit of the assemblée; her eyes seem alwaysdirected to thy motions; and her person shews some intimacies havepassed with somebody; is it with thee?'--'It would be my glory ifit was, ' said I, 'were her face answerable to her person. '--'Isit not?'--'I long to know, '" replied Mr. B. --"I am glad thou dostnot. "--"I am glad to hear my fair Nun say that. "--"Dost thou, " saidshe, "hate shackles? Or is it, that thy hour is not 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 side-board, and put her handkerchief upon it. Mr. B. Followed, and observed all her motions. She drank a glass oflemonade, as he of Burgundy; and a person in a domino, supposed to bethe King, passing by, took up every one's attention but Mr. B. 's whoeyed her handkerchief, not doubting but she laid it there on purposeto forget to take it up. Accordingly she left it there; and slippingby him, he, unobserved, as he believes, put it in his pocket, and atthe corner found the cover of a letter--"To the Right Honourable theCountess Dowager of ----"

That after this, the fair Nun was so shy, so reserved, and seemedso studiously to avoid him, that he had no opportunity to return herhandkerchief; and the Fanatic observing how she shunned him, said, inFrench, "What, Monsieur, have you done to your Nun?"

"I found her to be a very coquette; and told her so; and she isoffended. "

"How could you affront a lady, " replied he, "with such a _charmingface?_

"By that I had reason to think, " said Mr. B. , "that he had seen herunmask; and I said, 'It becomes not any character, but that youwear, to pry into the secrets of others, in order to make ill-naturedremarks, and perhaps to take ungentlemanlike advantages. '"

"No man should make that observation, " returned he, "whose views wouldbear prying into. "

"I was nettled, " said Mr. B. , "at this warm retort, and drew aside mymask: '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 morethat night. "

"So!" thought I, "another instance this might have been of theglorious consequences of masquerading. " O my lady, these masqueradesare 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 aside theirsovereign distinctions, and mingle thus in masquerade with the worstas well as the highest (I cannot say _best_) of their subjects, let'em take the consequence. Perhaps they might have a chance to hearmore truth here than in their palaces--the only good that possibly canaccrue from them--that is to say, if they made a good use of it whenthey heard it. For you see, my monarch, though he told the truth, as it happened, received the hint with more resentment thanthankfulness!--So, 'tis too likely did the monarch of us both. 

And now, my lady, you need not doubt, that so polite a gentleman wouldfind an opportunity to return the Nun her handkerchief!--To be surehe would: for what man of honour would rob a lady of any part of herapparel? And should he, that wanted to steal a heart content himselfwith a handkerchief?--No no, that was not to be expected. So, whatdoes he do, but resolve, the very next day, after dinner, to pursuethis affair: accordingly, the poor Quaker little thinking of thematter, away goes her naughty Spaniard, to find out his Nun at hergrate, or in her parlour rather. 

He asks for the Countess. Is admitted into the outward parlour--herwoman comes down; requires his name and business. His name hementioned not. His business was, to restore into her lady's own hands, something she had dropt the night before. --Was desired to wait. 

I should have said, that he was dressed very richly--having nodesign at all to make conquests; no, not he!--O this wicked loveof intrigue!--A kind of olive-coloured velvet, and fine brocadedwaistcoat. I said, when he took leave of me, "You're a charming Mr. B. , " and saluted him, more pressingly than he returned it; but littledid I think, when I plaited so smooth his rich laced ruffles, andbosom, where he was going, or what he had in his plotting heart. Hewent in his own chariot, that he did: so that he had no design toconceal who he was--But intrigue, a new conquest, vanity, pride!--Othese men!--They had need talk of ladies!--But it is half our ownfault, indeed it is, to encourage their vanity. 

Well, Madam, he waited till his stateliness was moved to send upagain, that he would wait on her ladyship some other time. So down shecame, dressed most richly, jewels in her breast, and in her hair, and ears--But with a very reserved and stately air. He approachedher--Methinks I see him, dear saucy gentleman. You know, Madam, what anoble 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, begsleave, 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 thingbut what is honourable. "--(_No, to be sure_)--"This, Madam, you leftlast 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 toyou. "

She turned to the mark; a coronet at one corner, "'Tis true, Sir, Isee now it is one of mine: but such a trifle was not worthy of beingbrought by such a gentleman as you seem to be; nor of my trouble toreceive it in person. Your servant, Sir, might have delivered thebagatelle to mine. "--"Nothing should be called so that belongs tothe 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 notbe known_!--Very pretty, indeed!--Oh! these slight cobweb airs ofmodesty! so easily seen through. Hence such advantages against us aretaken by the men. She had looked out of her window, and seen no armsquartered with his own; for you know, my lady, I would never permitany to be procured for me: so, she doubted not, it seems, but he wasan unmarried gentleman, as he had intimated to her the night before. He told her it was impossible, after having seen the finest lady inthe world, not to wish to see her again; and that he hoped he did not, _unbecomingly_, break through her ladyship's reserves: nor had he madeany enquiries, either on the spot, or off it; having had a much betterdirection by accident. 

"As how, Sir?" said she, as he told me, with so bewitching an air, between attentive and pleasant, that, bold gentleman, forgettingall manner of distance, so early too! he clasped his arms around herwaist, and saluted her, struggling with anger and indignation, hesays; but I think little of that!

"Whence this insolence? How, now, Sir! Begone!" were her words, andshe rung the bell; but he set his back against the door--(I neverheard 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 womancoming, 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, ofyour 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 theHaymarket. "

I think, truly, Madam, the lady might have saved herself that speech:for, upon my word, they neither of them wore masks--Though they oughtto have put on one of blushes--I am sure I do for them, while I amwriting. Her irresistible loveliness served for an excuse, thatshe could not disapprove from a man she disliked not: and hisirresistible--may I say, assurance, Madam?--found too ready an excuse. 

"Well, but, Sir, " said I, "pray, when her ladyship was made acquaintedthat you were a married gentleman, how then?--Pray, did _she_ find itout, 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: I would havetaken her hand indeed, but she would not permit it; and when she saw Iwould not go till her lavender snuff came down (for so I told her, andher 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, afterparting with her ladyship, but not equal by any means to her: and Iwas confident this would engage her attention; for I never knew thelady who thought herself handsome, that was not taken by this topic. Flattery and admiration, Pamela, are the two principal engines bywhich our sex make their first approaches to yours; and if you listento us, we are sure, either by the sap or the mine, to succeed, andblow you up when ever we please, if we do but take care to suitourselves 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 so 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 agreeabledisputation, which I had raised on purpose to excite her opposition, she having all the advantage in it; and in order to my giving it up, when she 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, whenmasked, her unmasking, and her handkerchief, and letter cover. Tobe sure, the lady, when she saw, next day, such a fine gentleman andhandsome equipage, had little reason, after her other freedoms, tobe so very nice with you as to decline an ensnaring conversation, calculated on purpose to engage her attention, and to lengthen outyour 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 kindas to add two or three thousand pounds a year, out of pure good willto me: I thank them. "

"But pray, dear Sir, what had you in view in all this? Did you intendto carry this matter, at first, as far as ever you could?"--"I had, atfirst, my dear, no view, but such as pride and vanity suggested tome. 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 I knew, at any time, wouldpreserve 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. 

"In a word, therefore, pride, vanity, thoughtlessness, were mymisguiders, as I said. The Countess's honour and character, andyour virtue and merit, my dear, and my obligations to you, were mydefences: 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 strongpassions on the other. "

"You certainly, Sir, say right. But be pleased to tell me what herladyship said when she knew you were married. "--"The Countess's womanwas in my interest, and let me into some of her lady's secrets, havinga great share in her confidence; and particularly acquainted me, how loth her lady was to believe I was married. I had paid her threevisits in town, and one to her seat upon the Forest, before she heardthat I was. But when she was assured of it, and directed her Nelthorpeto ask me about it, and I readily owned it, she was greatly incensed, though nothing but general civilities, and intimacies not inconsistentwith honourable friendship, had passed between us. The consequencewas, she forbad my ever seeing her again, and set out with her sisterand the Viscount for Tunbridge, where she staid about three weeks. 

"I thought I had already gone too far, and blamed myself forpermitting her so long to believe me single; and here the matter haddropped, in all probability, had not a ball, given by my Lord ----, towhich, unknown to each other, we were both, as also the Viscountess, invited, brought us again together. The lady soon withdrew, withher sister, to another apartment; and being resolved upon personalrecrimination (which is what a lady, who is resolved to break with afavoured object, should never trust herself with, ) sent for me, andreproached 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; forthat I had a wife, with a thousand excellencies, who was my pride, and my boast: that I held it very possible for a gentleman and lady tocarry on an innocent and honourable friendship, in a _family_ way; andI was sure, when she and her sister saw my spouse, they would not bedispleased with her acquaintance; all that I had to reproach myselfwith, was, that after having, at the masquerade, given reason tothink I was not married, I had been both, _officiously_, to say I was, although I never intended to conceal it. In short, I acquitted myselfso well with both ladies, that a family intimacy was consented to. I renewed my visits; and we accounted to one another's honour, byentering upon a kind of Platonic system, in which sex was to have nomanner of concern. 

"But, my dear Pamela, I must own myself extremely blameable, because Iknew the world and human nature, I will say, better than the lady, who never before had been trusted 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. I ought, therefore, tohave more carefully guarded against inconveniencies, which I knew wereso 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 I have no excuse from human frailty, from youth, and the charms ofthe object, I am entirely destitute of any. "

"I see, Mr. B. , " said I, "there is a great deal to be said for thelady. I wish I could say there was for the gentleman. But such a finelady had been safe, with all her inconsideration; and so (forgive me. Sir, ) would the gentleman, with all his intriguing spirit, had it notbeen for these vile masquerades. Never, dear Sir, think of going toanother. "--"Why, my dear, those are least of all to be trusted atthese diversions, who are most desirous to go to them. --Of this I amnow fully convinced. "--"Well, Sir, I long to hear more particulars ofthis story: for this generous openness, now the affair is over, cannotbut be grateful to me, as it shews me you have no reserve, and tendsto convince me, that the lady was less blameable than I apprehended:for I love, for the honour of my sex, to find ladies of birth andquality innocent, who have so many opportunities of knowing andpractising their duties, above what meaner persons can have. "

"Well observed, my dear: this is like your generous and deep way ofthinking. "

"But, dear Sir, proceed--Your reconciliation is now effected; afriendship quadripartite is commenced. And the Viscountess and I areto find cement for the erecting of an edifice, that is to be devotedto Platonic love. What, may I ask, came next? And what did you designshould come of it?"

"The Oxford journey, my dear, followed next; and it was my faultyou were not a party in it, both ladies being very desirous of yourcompany: but it was the time you were not going abroad, after yourlying-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 toyour mind, as to your person. "

"Well, Sir, to be sure this was very kind; and little was I disposed(knowing what I did, ) to pass so favourable a construction in yourgenerosity to me. "

"My question to her ladyship at going away, whether you were not thecharmingest girl in the world, which seeing you both together, richas she was drest, and plain as you, gave me the double pleasure(a pleasure she said afterwards I exulted in, ) of deciding in yourfavour; my readiness to explain to you what we both said, and her notungenerous answer, I thought entitled me to a better return than aflood of tears; which confirmed me that your past uneasiness was ajealousy I was not willing to allow in you: though I should have beenmore indulgent to it had I known the grounds you thought you had forit: and for this reason I left you so abruptly as I did. "

Here, Madam, Mr. B. Broke off, referring to another time theconclusion of his narrative. I will here close this letter (thoughpossibly I may not send it, till I send the conclusion of this storyin my next, ) with the assurance that I am _your ladyship's obligedsister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXVIII

My dear lady, Now I will proceed with my former subject: and with the greaterpleasure, as what follows makes still more in favour of the Countess'scharacter, than what went before, although that set it in a betterlight than it had once appeared to me in. I began as follows:

"Will you be pleased, Sir, to favour me with the continuation ofour last subject?"--"I will, my dear. "--"You left off, Sir, withacquitting me for breaking out into that flood of tears, whichoccasioned your abrupt departure. But, dear Sir, will you be pleased, to satisfy me about that affecting information, of your intention andmy lady's to live at Tunbridge together?"

"'Tis absolute malice and falsehood. Our intimacy had not proceededso far; and, thoughtless as my sister's letters suppose the lady, shewould have spurned at such a proposal, I dare say. "

"Well, but then, Sir, as to the expression to her uncle, that she hadrather have been a certain gentleman's second wife?"

"I believe she might, in a passion, say something like it to him: hehad been teazing her (from the time that I held an argument in favourof that foolish topic _polygamy_, in his company and his niece's, and in that of her sister and the Viscount, ) with cautions againstconversing with a man, who, having, as he was pleased to say behind myback, married beneath him, wanted to engage the affections of a ladyof birth, in order to recover, by doubling that fault upon her, hislost reputation. 

"She despised his insinuation enough to answer him, that she thoughtmy arguments in behalf of _polygamy_ were convincing. This set him araving, and he threw some coarse reflections upon her, which could notbe repeated, if one may guess at them, by her being unable to tellme them; and then to vex him more, and to revenge herself, she saidsomething like what was reported: which was handle enough for heruncle; who took care to propagate it with an indiscretion peculiar tohimself; for I heard it in three different companies, before I knewany thing of it from herself; and when I did, it was so repeated, asyou, my dear, would hardly have censured her for it, the provocationconsidered. "

"Well, but then, dear Sir, there is nothing at all amiss, at thisrate, in the correspondence between my lady and you?"

"Not on her side, I dare say, if her ladyship can be excused topunctilio, and for having a greater esteem for a married man, thanhe can deserve, or than may be strictly defended to a person of yourpurity and niceness. "

"Well, Sir, this is very noble in you. I love to hear the gentlemengenerous 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 yougive me so patient and so kind a hearing?"

"Now, my dear, you come to the point: at first it was nothing in mebut vanity, pride, and love of intrigue, to try my strength, whereI had met with some encouragement, as I thought, at the masquerade;where the lady went farther, too, than she would have done, had shenot 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, assoon as she well could. Mrs. Nelthorpe acquainted me afterwards, whenbetter 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 earlyas at the masquerade, that if every thing answered appearances, and that I were a single man, she, who has a noble and independentfortune, might possibly be induced to make me happy in her choice. 

"Supposing, then, that I was unmarried, she left a signal for me inher handkerchief. I visited her; had the honour, after the customaryfirst shyness, of being well received; and continued my visits, till, perhaps, she would have been glad I had not been married, but onfinding I was, she avoided me, as I have told you, till the accidentI mentioned threw us again upon each other: which renewed our intimacyupon terms you would think too inconsiderable on one side, and toodesigning 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, everin tears and grief; the Countess ever cheerful and lively; and fearingthat your temper was entirely changing, I believe I had no bad excuseto try to make myself easy and cheerful abroad, since my home becamemore irksome to me than ever I believed it could be. Then, as wenaturally love those who love us, I had vanity, and some reason for myvanity (indeed all vain men believe they have, ) to think the Countesshad more than an indifference for me. She was so exasperated by thewrong methods taken with an independent lady of her generous spirit, to break off our acquaintance, that, in revenge, she denied me lessthan ever opportunities of her company. The pleasure we took in eachother's conversation was reciprocal. The world's reports had united usin one common cause: and you, as I said, had made home less delightfulto me than it used to be: what might not then have been apprehendedfrom so many circumstances concurring with the lady's beauty and myfrailty?

"I waited on her to Tunbridge. She took a house there. Where people'stongues will take so much liberty, without any foundation, and wherethe utmost circumspection is used, what will they not say, where solittle of the latter is observed? No wonder, then, that terms weresaid to be agreed upon between us: from her uncle's story, of polygamyproposed by me, and seemingly agreed to by her, no wonder that allyour Thomasine Fuller's information was surmised. Thus stood thematter, when I was determined to give your cause for uneasiness ahearing, and to take my measures according to what should result fromthat hearing. "

"From this account, dear Sir, " said I, "it will not be sodifficult, as I feared, to end this affair even to her _ladyship's_satisfaction. "--"I hope not, my dear. "--"But if, now, Sir, theCountess should still be desirous not to break with you; from socharming a lady, who knows what may happen!"

"Very true, Pamela; but to make you still easier, I will tell youthat her ladyship has a first cousin married to a person going witha public character to several of the Italian courts, and, had it notbeen for my persuasions, she would have accepted of their earnestinvitations, and passed a year or two in Italy, where she once residedfor three years together, which makes her so perfect a mistress ofItalian. 

"Now I will let her know, additionally to what I have written to her, the uneasiness I have given you, and, so far as it is proper, what iscome to your ears, and your generous account of her, and the charmsof her person, of which she will not be a little proud; for she hasreally noble and generous sentiments, and thinks well (though hersister, in pleasantry, will have it a little enviously, ) of you; andwhen I shall endeavour to persuade her to go, for the sake of her owncharacter, to a place and country of which she was always fond, I amapt to think she will come into it; for she has a greater opinionof my judgment than it deserves: and I know a young lord, who may beeasily 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 iswhat I never thought I should. I hope this will be brought about. 

"But I see, give me leave to say, Sir, how dangerously you mightboth have gone on, under the notion of this Platonic love, tilltwo precious souls had been lost: and this shews one, as well inspirituals as temporals, from what slight beginnings the greatestmischiefs sometimes spring; and how easily at first a breach may bestopped, that, when neglected, the waves of passion will widen tillthey bear down all before them. "

"Your observation, my dear, is just, " replied Mr. B. , "and though, Iam confident the lady was more in earnest than myself in the notion ofPlatonic love, yet I am convinced, and always was, that Platonic loveis Platonic nonsense: 'tis the fly buzzing about the blaze, till itswings are scorched; or, to speak still stronger, it is a bait of thedevil to catch the unexperienced, and thoughtless: nor ought suchnotions to be pretended to, till the parties are five or ten yearson the other side of their grand climateric: for age, old age, andnothing else, must establish the barriers to Platonic love. But thiswas my comparative consolation, though a very bad one, that had Iswerved, I should not have given the only instance, where persons morescrupulous than I pretended to be, have begun friendships even withspiritual views, and ended them as grossly as I could have done, werethe lady to have been as frail as her tempter. "

Here Mr. B. Finished his narrative. He is now set out for Tunbridgewith 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 informyou in it, that the affair which went so near my heart, is absolutelyconcluded to my satisfaction, to Mr. B. 's and the Countess's; for ifit be so to all three, my happiness, I doubt not, will be founded ona permanent basis. Meantime I am, my dear good lady, _your mostaffectionate, and obliged sister and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXIX

A new misfortune, my dear lady!--But this is of God Almighty'ssending; so I must bear it patiently. My dear baby is taken with thesmall-pox!--To how many troubles are the happiest of us subjectedin this life! One need not multiply them by one's own wilfulmismanagements!--I am able to mind nothing else!

I had so much joy (as I told your ladyship in the beginning of my lastletter but one) to see, on our arrival at the farm-house, my dearestMr. B. , my beloved baby, and my good parents, all upon one happy spot, that I fear I was too proud--Yet I was truly thankful, I am sure!--ButI had, notwithstanding too much pride, and too much pleasure, on thishappy occasion. 

I said, in my last, that your dear brother set out on Tuesday morningfor Tunbridge with my papers; and I longed to know the result, hopingthat every thing would be concluded to the satisfaction of all three:"For, " thought I, "if this be so, my happiness must be permanent:" butalas! there is nothing permanent in this life. I feel it by experiencenow!--I knew it before by theory: but that was not so near andinteresting by half. 

For, with all my pleasures and hopes; in the midst of my dear parents'joy and congratulations on our arrival, and on what had passed sohappily since we were last here together, (in the birth of the dearchild, and my safety, for which they had been so apprehensive, ) thepoor baby was taken ill. It was on that very Tuesday his papa setout for Tunbridge; but we knew not it would be the small-pox tillThursday. O Madam! how are all the pleasures I had formed to myselfsickened now upon me! for my Billy is very bad. 

They talk of a kind sort: but alas: they talk at random: for they comenot out at all!--I fear the nurse's constitution is too hale and toorich for the dear baby!--Had _I_ been permitted--But hush, all myrepining _ifs!_--except one _if_; and that is, _if_ it be got happilyover, it will be best he had it so young, and while at the breast!--

Oh! Madam, Madam! the small appearance that there was is gone inagain: and my child, my dear baby, will die! The doctors seem to thinkso. 

They wanted to send for Mr. B. To keep me from him!--But I forbidit!--For what signifies life, or any thing, if I cannot see my baby, while he is so dangerously ill!

My father and mother are, for the first time, quite cruel to me; theyhave 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 poorface!--For fear I should get it myself!--But I am living very low, andhave taken proper precautions by bleeding, and the like, to lessenthe distemper's fury, if I should have it; and the rest I leave toProvidence. And if Mr. B. 's value is confined so much to this poortransitory sightliness, he must not break with his Countess, I think;and if I am ever so deformed in person, my poor intellects, I hopewill not be impaired, and I shall, if God spare my Billy, be usefulin his first education, and be helpful to dear Miss Goodwin--or to anybabies--with all my heart--he may make me an humble nurse too!--Howpeevish, sinfully so, I doubt, does this accident, and theiraffectionate contradiction, make one!

I have this moment received the following from Mr. B. 

_Maidstone_. 

"My dearest love, "I am greatly touched with the dear boy's malady, of which I havethis moment heard. I desire you instantly to come to me hither, in thechariot with the bearer, Colbrand. I know what your grief must be: butas you can do the child no good, I beg you'll oblige me. Everythingis in a happy train; but I can think only of you, and (for your sakeprincipally, but not a little for _my own_) my boy. I will set outto meet you; for I choose not to come myself, lest you should try topersuade me to permit your tarrying about him; and I should be sorryto deny you any thing. I have taken handsome apartments for you, tillthe event, which I pray God may be happy, shall better determinate mewhat to do. I will be ever _your affectionate and faithful_. "

Maidstone indeed is not so very far off, but one may hear every day, 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 notpermitted to come back--Oh! let me be enabled, gracious Father! toclose this letter more happily than I have begun it!

I have been so dreadfully uneasy at Maidstone, that Mr. B. Has beenso good as to return with me hither; and I find my baby's case not yetquite desperate--I am easier now I see him, in presence of his belovedpapa who lets me have all my way, and approves of my preparativemethod 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 toimitate my reliance on God--that is his kind expression--and leavethe issue to him. And on my telling him, that I feared nothing inthe distemper, but the loss of his love, he said, in presence of thedoctors, and my father and mother, pressing my hand to his lips--"Mydearest life, make yourself easy under this affliction, and apprehendnothing for yourself: I love you more, for your mind than for yourface. That and your person will be the same; and were that sweet faceto be covered with seams and scars, I will value you the more for themisfortune: and glad I am, that I had your picture so well drawn intown, to satisfy those who have heard of your loveliness, what youwere, and hitherto are. For myself, my admiration lies deeper;" and, drawing me to the other end of the room, whisperingly he said, "Thelast uneasiness between us, I now begin to think, was necessary, because it has turned all my delight in you, more than ever, to theperfections of your mind: and so God preserves to me the life of myPamela, I care not for my own part, what ravages the distemper makeshere, " and tapped my cheek. --How generous, how noble, how comfortingwas this!

When I went from my apartment, to go to my child, my dear Mr. B. Metme at the nursery door, and led me back again. "You must not go inagain, my dearest. They have just been giving the child other thingsto try to drive out the malady; and some pustules seem to promise onhis breast. " I made no doubt, my baby was then in extremity; and Iwould have given the world to have shed a few tears, but I could not. 

With the most soothing goodness he led me to my desk, and withdrew toattend the dear baby himself--to see his last gaspings, poor littlelamb, I make no doubt!

In this suspense, my own strange hardness of heart would not giveup one tear, for the passage from _that_ to my _eyes_ seemed quitechoaked up, which used to be so open and ready on other occasions, affecting ones too. 

Two days have passed, dreadful days of suspense: and now, blessed beGod! who has given me hope that our prayers are heard, the pustulescome kindly out, very thick in his breast, and on his face: but ofa good sort, they tell me. --They won't let me see him; indeed theywon't!--What cruel kindness is this! One must believe all they tellone!

But, my dear lady, my spirits are so weak; I have such a violentheadache, and have such a strange shivering disorder all runningdown my back, and I was so hot just now, and am so cold at thispresent--aguishly inclined--I don't know how! that I must leave off, the post going away, with the assurance, that I am, and will be, tothe last hour of my life, _your ladyship's grateful and obliged sisterand servant_, P. B. 

LETTER LXXX

_From Mr. B. To Lady Davers. _

MY DEAR SISTER, I take very kindly your solicitude for the health of my belovedPamela. The last line she wrote was to you, for she took to her bedthe moment she laid down her pen. 

I told her your kind message, and wishes for her safety, by my lord'sgentleman; and she begged I would write a line to thank you in hername for your affectionate regards to her. 

She is in a fine way to do well: for with her accustomed prudence, shehad begun to prepare herself by a proper regimen, the moment she knewthe child's illness was the small-pox. 

The worst is over with the boy, which keeps up her spirits; and hermother is so excellent a nurse to both, and we are so happy likewisein the care of a skilful physician, Dr. M. (who directs and approvesof every thing the good dame does, ) that it is a singular providencethis malady seized them here; and affords no small comfort to the dearcreature herself. 

When I tell you, that, to all appearance, her charming face will notreceive any disfigurement by this cruel enemy to beauty, I am sure youwill congratulate me upon a felicity so desirable: but were it to beotherwise, if I were capable of slighting a person, whose principalbeauties are much deeper than the skin, I should deserve to be thoughtthe 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 neverdid, and never can, love any woman as I love my Pamela. 

It is indeed impossible I can ever love her better than I do; and heroutward beauties are far from being indifferent to me; yet, if I knowmyself, I am sure I have justice enough to love her _equally_, andgenerosity enough to be _more tender_ of her, were she to suffer bythis distemper. But, as her humility, and her affection to me, wouldinduce her to think herself under greater obligation to me, for suchmy tenderness to her, were she to lose any the _least_ valuable of herperfections, I rejoice that she will have no reason for mortificationon that score. 

My respects to Lord Davers, and your noble neighbours. I am, _youraffectionate brother, and humble servant_. 

LETTER LXXXI

_From Lady Davers, in answer to the preceding_. 

MY DEAR BROTHER, I do most heartily congratulate you on the recovery of Master Billy, and the good way my sister is in. I am the more rejoiced, as her sweetface is not like to suffer by the malady; for, be the beauties of themind 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 washardly possible for _both conjoined_ to keep a roving mind constant, that _one only_ would not be sufficient. 

This news gives me more pleasure, because I am well informed, that acertain gay lady was pleased to give herself airs upon learning of mysister's illness, as, That she would not be sorry for it; for now sheshould look upon herself as the prettiest woman in England. --She meantonly, I suppose, as to _outward_ prettiness, brother!

You give me the name of a _ready censurer_. I own, I think myself tobe not a little interested in all that regards my brother, and hishonour. But when some people are not readier to _censure_, than othersto _trespass_, I know not whether they can with justice be styledcensorious. 

But however that be, the rod seems to have been held up, as awarning--and that the blow, in the irreparable deprivation, is notgiven, is a mercy, which I hope will be deserved; though you never canthose very signal ones you receive at the Divine hands, beyond any manI know. For even (if I shall not be deemed censorious again) yourvery vices have been turned to your felicity, as if God would try thenobleness of the heart he has given you, by overcoming you (in answerto my sister's constant prayers, as well as mine) by mercies ratherthan by judgments. 

I might give instances of the truth of this observation, in almostall the actions and attempts of your past life; and take care (if you_are_ displeased, I _will_ speak it), take care, thou bold wretch, that if this method be ungratefully slighted, the uplifted arm fallnot down with double weight on thy devoted head!

I must always love and honour my brother, but cannot help speaking mymind: which, after all, is the natural result of that very love andhonour, and which obliges me to style myself _your truly affectionatesister_, B. Davers. 

LETTER LXXXII

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers_. 

MY DEAREST LADY, My first letter, and my first devoirs, after those of thankfulness tothat gracious God, who has so happily conducted me through two suchheavy trials, as my child's and my own illness, must be directed toyou, with all due acknowledgment of your generous and affectionateconcern for me. 

We are now preparing for our journey to Bedfordshire; and there, to mygreat 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 methrough several counties (taking the Hall in the way) for about afortnight, and shew me what is remarkable, every where as we pass; forthis, he thinks, will better contribute to my health, than anyother method. The distemper has left upon me a kind of weariness andlistlessness; and he proposes to be out with me till the Bath seasonbegins; and by the aid of those healing and balsamic waters, he hopes, I shall be quite established. Afterwards to return to Bedfordshirefor a little while; then to London; and then to Kent; and, if nothinghinders, has a great mind to carry me over to Paris. 

Thus most kindly does he amuse and divert me with his agreeableproposals. But I have made one amendment to them; and that is, that Imust 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 willbe far from being the least of my pleasures. 

I have had congratulations without number upon my recovery; but one, among the rest, I did not expect; from the Countess Dowager (could youthink it, Madam?) who sent me by her gentleman the following letterfrom Tunbridge. 

"MADAM, "I hope, among the congratulations of your numerous admirers, on yourhappy recovery, my very sincere ones will not be unacceptable. I haveno other motive for making you my compliments on this occasion, onso slender an acquaintance, than the pleasure it gives me, that thepublic, as well as your private friends, have not been deprived of alady whose example, in every duty of life, is of so much concernto both. --May you, Madam, long rejoice in an uninterrupted state ofhappiness, answerable to your merits, and to your own wishes, arethose of _your most obedient humble servant_. "

To this kind letter I returned the following:

"MADAM, "I am under the highest obligation to your generous favour, in yourkind compliments of congratulation on my recovery. There is somethingso noble and so condescending in the honour you have done me, onso slender an acquaintance, that it bespeaks the exalted mind andcharacter of a lady, who, in the principles of generosity, and in truenobleness of nature, has no example. May God Almighty bless you, mydear lady, with all the good you wish me, and with increase of honourand glory, both here and hereafter, prays, and will always pray, _yourladyship's most obliged and obedient servant_, P. B. "

This leads me to mention, what my illness would not permit me to dobefore, that Mr. B. Met with such a reception and audience from theCountess, when he attended her, in all he had to offer and propose toher, and in her patient hearing of what he thought fit to readher, from your ladyship's letters and mine, that he said, "Don't bejealous, 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 Itold him, he should not only be welcome to admire her ladyship, butthat I would admire her too. 

They parted very good friends, and with great professions of esteemfor each other. --And as Mr. B. Had undertaken to inspect into someexceptionable accounts and managements of her ladyship's bailiff, one of her servants brought a letter for him on Monday last, whollywritten on that subject. But she was so considerate, as to sendit unsealed, in a cover directed to me. When I opened it, I wasfrightened to see it begin to Mr. B. And I hastened to find him--"DearSir--Here's some mistake--You see the direction is to Mrs. B. --'Tisvery plain--But, upon my word, I have not read it. "--"Don't beuneasy, my love. --I know what the subject must be; but I dare swearthere is nothing, nor will there ever be, but what you or any body maysee. "

He read it, and giving it to me, said, "Answer yourself thepostscript, my dear. " That was--"If, Sir, the trouble I give you, islikely to subject you or your lady to uneasiness or apprehensions, Ibeg you will not be concerned in it. I will then set about the mattermyself; for my uncle I will not trouble; yet women enter into theseparticulars with as little advantage to themselves as inclination. "

I told him, I was entirely easy and unapprehensive; and, after allhis 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 seeher every day, or at all, for the present. But I shall be obliged tocorrespond with her for a month or so, on this occasion; unless youprohibit 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 inboth their honours. 

"Yet I will not, " said he, "unless you see our letters: for I know shewill always, now she has begun, send in a cover to you, what she willwrite to me, unsealed; and whether I am at home or abroad, I shalltake it unkindly, if you do not read them. "

He went in, and wrote an answer, which he sent by the messenger; butwould make me, whether I would or not, read it, and seal it up withhis seal. But all this needed not to me now, who think so much betterof the lady than I did before; and am so well satisfied in his ownhonour and generous affection for me; for you saw, Madam, in what Iwrote before, that he always loved me, though he was angry at times, at my change of temper, as he feared, not knowing that I was apprisedof what had passed between him and the Countess. 

I really am better pleased with his correspondence, than I should havebeen, 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), thatit is quite innocent; and this may help to silence the mouths of thosewho have so freely censured their conduct. 

Indeed, Madam, I think I have received no small good myself by thataffair, which once lay so heavy upon me: for I don't believe I shallbe ever jealous again; indeed I don't think I shall. And won't thatbe an ugly foible overcome? I see what may be done, in cases notfavourable to our wishes, by the aid of proper reflection; and thatthe bee is not the only creature that may make honey out of the bitterflowers as well as the sweet. 

My most grateful respects and thanks to my good Lord Davers; to theEarl, and his excellent Countess; and most particularly to Lady Betty(with whose kind compliments your ladyship acquaints me), and toMr. H. For all your united congratulations on my recovery. Whatobligations do I lie under to such noble and generous well-wishers!--Ican make no return but by my prayers, that God, by his goodness, willsupply all my defects. And these will always attend you, from, mydearest lady, _your ever obliged sister, and humble servant_, P. B. 

Mr. H. Is just arrived. He says, he comes a special messenger, to makea report how my face has come off. He makes me many complimentsupon it. How kind your ladyship is, to enter so favourably into theminutest concerns, which you think, may any way affect my futurehappiness in your dear brother's opinion!--I want to pour out all myjoy and my thankfulness to God, before you, and the good Countess ofC----! For I am a happy, yea, a blessed creature! Mr. B. 's boy, yourladyship's boy, and my boy, is charmingly well; quite strong, and veryforward, for his months; and his papa is delighted with him more andmore. 

LETTER LXXXIII

MY DEAR MISS DARNFORD, I hope you are happy and well. You kindly say you can't be so, tillyou hear of my perfect recovery. And this, blessed be God! you haveheard already from Mr. B. 

As to your intimation of the fair Nun, 'tis all happily over. Blessedbe God for that too! And I have a better and more endearing husbandthan ever. Did you think that could be?

My Billy too improves daily, and my dear parents seem to have theiryouth renewed like the eagle's. How many blessings have I to bethankful for!

We are about to turn travellers, to the northern counties. I thinkquite 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 MissDarnford!

I long to hear whether poor Mrs. Jewkes is better or worse for theadvice of the doctor, whom I ordered to attend her from Stamford, andin what frame her mind is. Do vouchsafe her a visit in my name; tellher, 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 neitherexpence nor attendance, nor any thing her heart can wish for; nor thecompany of any relations or friends she may desire to be with her. 

If she is in her _last stage_, poor soul! how noble will it be in youto give her comfort and consolation in her dying hours! Although wecan merit nothing at the hand of God, yet I have a notion, thatwe cannot deserve more of one another, and in some sense, for thatreason, of him, than in our charities on so trying an exigence! Whenthe poor soul stands shivering, as it were, on the verge of death, and has nothing strong, but its fears and doubts; then a little balmpoured into the wounds of the mind, a little comforting advice to relyon God's mercies, from a good person, how consolatory must it be!And how, like morning mists before the sun, must all diffidences andgloomy doubts, be chased away by it!

But, my dear, the great occasion of my writing to you just now, is byLady Davers's desire, on a quite different subject. She knows howwe love one another. And she has sent me the following lines by herkinsman, who came to Kent, purposely to enquire how my face fared inthe small-pox; and accompanied us hither, [_i. E. _ to Bedfordshire, ]and sets out to-morrow for Lord Davers's. 

"MY DEAR PAMELA, "Jackey will tell you the reason of his journey, my curiosity onyour own account; and I send this letter by him, but he knows not thecontents. My good Lord Davers wants to have his nephew married, andsettled in the world: and his noble father leaves the whole matterto 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 MissDarnford, that we shall be obliged to you, to sound the young lady onthis score. 

"I know Mr. H. Would wish for no greater happiness. But if she isengaged, or cannot love my nephew, I 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 advantages that require alady's consideration. He has not so much wit as Miss, but enough fora lord, whose friends are born before him, as the phrase is; is verygood-humoured, no tool, 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. I fancy there would be no greatdifficulties. The business is, if Miss Darnford could love him wellenough for a husband? _That_ we leave you to sound the young lady; andif 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 begyou to enable me to return an answer. I will not say one word _pro_ or_con_. Till I know your mind--Only, that I think he is good-humouredand might be easily persuaded to any thing a lady should thinkreasonable. 

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 has been made him by hisnew patron, of a kinswoman of his lordship's, a person of virtue andmerit, and a fortune of three thousand pounds, to make him amends, as the earl tell him, for quitting a better living to oblige him; andthat he is in great hope of obtaining the lady's consent, which is allthat 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, she is prudent and deserving; and offers tomake a journey on purpose to forward it, if he can be of service tohim. 

I suppose you know that all is adjusted, according to the scheme Iformerly acquainted you with, between Mr. Adams and that gentleman;and both are settled in their respective livings. But I ought to havetold you, that Mr. Williams, upon mature deliberation, declined thestipulated eighty pounds _per annum_ from Mr. Adams, as he thought itwould have a simoniacal appearance. 

But now my hand's in, let me tell you of a third matrimonialproposition, which gives me more puzzle and dislike a great deal. Andthat is, Mr. Adams has, with great reluctance, and after abundance ofbashful apologies, asked me, if I have any objection to his makinghis addresses to Polly Barlow? which, however, he told me, he had notmentioned to her, nor to any body living, because he would first knowwhether I should take it amiss, as her service was so immediatelyabout my person. 

This unexpected motion much perplexed me. Mr. Adams is a worthy man. He has now a very good living; yet just entered upon it; and, I think, according to his accustomed prudence in other respects, had betterhave turned himself about first. 

But that is not the point with me neither. I have a great regard tothe function. I think it is as necessary, in order to preserve therespect due to the clergy, that their wives should be nearly, if notquite as unblemished, and as circumspect, as themselves; and this forthe gentleman's own sake, as well as in the eye of the world: for howshall he pursue his studies with comfort to himself, if made uneasy athome! or how shall he expect his female parishioners will regardhis _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 goodsort of body enough so far as I know; but that is such a blot in thepoor girl's escutcheon, a thing not _accidental_, nor _surprised_into, not owing to _inattention_, but to cool _premeditation_, that, Ithink, I could wish Mr. Adams a wife more unexceptionable. 

'Tis true, Mr. Adams knows not this, but _that_ is one of mydifficulties. If I acquaint him with it, I shall hurt the poor girlirreparably, and deprive her of a husband, to whom she may possiblymake a good wife--For she is not very meanly descended--much betterthan myself, as the world would say were a judgment to be made frommy father's low estate, when I was exalted--I never, my dear, shall beashamed of these retrospections! She is genteel, has a very innocentlook, a good face, is neat in her person, and not addicted to anyexcess that I know of. But _still_, that one _premeditated_ fault, isso sad a one, though she might make a good wife for any middling manof business, yet she wants, methinks, that discretion, 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, whichthe wife of a country clergyman ought to know something of; and hassuch 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 somesevere remarkers are apt to throw upon the wives of _parsons_, as theycall them. 

The maiden, I believe, likes Mr. Adams not a little. She is verycourteous to every body, but most to him of any body, and never hasmissed being present at our Sunday's duties; and five or six times, Mrs. Jervis tells me, she has found her desirous to have Mr. Adamsexpound this text, and that difficulty; and the good man is taken withher piety, which, and her reformation, I hope, is sincere; but sheis very sly, very subtle, as I have found in several instances, asfoolish 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 termstoo. "--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 veryglad to have Polly well married; for, since _that_ time, I have alwayshad some diffidences about her--Because, you know, Miss--her faultwas so enormous, and, as I have said, so premeditated. I wanted you toadvise with. --But this was the method I took. --I appointed Mr. Adamsto drink a dish of tea with me. Polly attended, as usual; for I can'tsay I love men attendants in these womanly offices. A tea-kettle in aman's hand, that would, if there was no better employment for him, befitter to hold a plough, or handle a flail, or a scythe, has sucha 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; andwho doubts her politeness?

Well, but Polly attended, as I said; and there were strangesimperings, and bowing, and curt'sying, between them; the honestgentleman seeming not to know how to let his mistress wait upon him;while she behaved with as much respect and officiousness, as if shecould 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 andcomplaisance, I see you have found a language between you, that isfull as significant as plain English words. Polly, " thought I, "seesno difficulty in _this_ text; nor need you, Mr. Adams, have muchtrouble 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 reservedappearance than usual, to make them avoid acts of complaisance for oneanother, that might not be proper to be shewn before me, for one whosat as my companion, to my servant. 

When she withdrew, the modest gentleman hemmed, and looked on oneside, and turned to the right and left, as if his seat was uneasy tohim, and, I saw, knew not how to speak; so I began in mere compassionto him, and said--"Mr. Adams, I have been thinking of what youmentioned to me, as to Polly Barlow. "

"Hem! hem!" said he; and pulled out his handkerchief, and wiped hismouth--"Very well. Madam; I hope no offence, Madam!"

"No, Sir, none at all. But I am at a loss how to distinguish in thiscase; whether it may not be from a motive of too humble gratitude, that you don't think yourself above matching with Polly, as you maysuppose her a favourite of mine; or whether it be your value for herperson and qualities, that makes her more agreeable in your eyes, thanany other person would be. "

"Madam--Madam, " said the bashful gentleman, hesitatingly--"I do--Imust needs say--I can't but own--that--Mrs. Mary--is a person-whom Ithink very agreeable; and no less modest and virtuous. "

"You know, Sir, your own circumstances. To be sure you have a verypretty house, and a good living, to carry a wife to. And a gentlemanof your prudence and discretion wants not any advice; but you havereaped no benefits by your living. It has been an expence to yourather, which you will not presently get up: do you propose an earlymarriage, Sir? Or were it not better to suspend your intentions ofthat sort for a year or two more?"--"Madam, if your ladyship choosenot to part with--"--"Nay, Mr. Adams, " interrupted I, "I say not anything for my own sake in this point: that is out of the question withme. I can very willingly part with Polly, were it to-morrow, for hergood and yours. "--"Madam, I humbly beg pardon;--but--but--delays maybreed dangers. "--"Oh I very well, " thought I; "if the artful girl hasnot let him know, by some means or other, that she has another humbleservant. "

And so, Miss, it has proved--For, dismissing my gentleman, withassuring him, that I had no objection at all to the matter, or toparting with Polly, as soon as it suited with their conveniency--Isounded her, and asked, if she thought Mr. Adams had any affection forher?--She said he was a very good gentleman. 

"I know it, Polly; and are you not of opinion he loves you alittle?"--"Dear Ma'am--love me--I don't know what such a gentleman asMr. Adams should see in me, to love me!"--"Oh!" thought I, "does thedoubt lie on _that_ side then?--I see 'tis not of _thine_. "

"Well, but, Polly, if you have _another_ sweetheart, you should do thefair thing; it would be wrong, if you encourage any body else, ifyou thought of Mr. Adams. "--"Indeed, Ma'am, I had a letter sent me--aletter that I received--from--from a young man in Bedford; but I neveranswered it. "

"Oh!" thought I, "then thou wouldst not encourage _two at once_;" andthis was as plain a declaration as I wanted, that she had thoughts ofMr. Adams. 

"But how came Mr. Adams, Polly, to know of this letter?"--"How camehe to know of it, Ma'am!"--repeated she--half surprised--"Why, I don't know, I can't tell how it was--but I dropped it near hisdesk--pulling out my handkerchief, I believe, Ma'am, and he broughtit, and gave it me again. "--"Well, " thought I, "thou'rt an intriguingslut, I doubt, Polly. "--"_Delays may breed dangers_, " quoth the poorgentleman!--"Ah! girl, girl!" thought I, but did not say so, "thoudeservest to have thy plot spoiled, that thou dost--But if thyforwardness should expose thee afterwards to evils which thou mayestavoid if thy schemes take place, I should very much blame myself. AndI see he loves thee--So let the matter take its course; I will troublemyself no more about it. I only wish, that thou wilt make Mr. Adams asgood a wife as he deserves. "

And so I dismissed her, telling her, that whoever thought of being aclergyman's wife, should resolve to be as good as himself; to set anexample to all her sex in the parish, and shew how much his doctrineshad weight with her; should be humble, circumspect, gentle in hertemper and manners, frugal, not proud, nor vying in dress with theladies of the laity; should resolve to sweeten his labour, and to beobliging in her deportment to poor as well as rich, that her husbandget no discredit through her means, which would weaken his influenceupon his auditors; and that she must be most of all obliging to him, and study his temper, that his mind might be more disengaged, in orderto pursue his studies with the better effect. 

And so much for _your_ humble servant; and for Mr. Williams's and Mr. Adams's matrimonial prospect;--and don't think me so disrespectful, that I have mentioned my Polly's affair in the same letter with yours. For in high and low (I forget the Latin phrase--I have not had alesson a long, long while, from my dear tutor) love is in all thesame!--But whether you'll like Mr. H. As well as Polly does Mr. Adams, that's the question. But, leaving that to your own decision, I conclude with one observation; that, although I thought our's was ahouse of as little intriguing as any body's, since the dear master ofit has left off that practice, yet I cannot see, that any family canbe clear of some of it long together, where there are men and womenworth plotting for, as husbands and wives. 

My best wishes and respects attend all your worthy neighbours. I hopeere long, to assure them, severally (to wit, Sir Simon, my lady, Mrs. Jones, Mr. Peters, and his lady and niece, whose kind congratulationsmake me very proud, and very thankful) how much I am obliged to them;and particularly, my dear, how much I am _your ever affectionate andfaithful friend and servant_, P. B, LETTER LXXXIV

_From Miss Darnford, in answer to the preceding. _

MY DEAR MRS. B. , I have been several times (in company with Mr. Peters) to see Mrs. Jewkes. The poor woman is very bad, and cannot live many days. Wecomfort her all we can; but she often accuses herself of her pastbehaviour to so excellent a lady; and with blessings upon blessings, heaped upon you, and her master, and your charming little boy, iscontinually declaring how much your goodness to her aggravates herformer faults to her own conscience. 

She has a sister-in-law and her niece with her, and has settled allher affairs, and thinks she is not long for this world. --Her distemperis an inward decay, all at once as it were, from a constitution thatseemed like one of iron; and she is a mere skeleton: you would notknow her, I dare say. 

I will see her every day; and she has given me up all her keys, andaccounts, to give to Mr. Longman, who is daily expected, and I hopewill be here soon; for her sister-in-law, she says herself, is a womanof _this world_, as _she_ has been. 

Mr. Peters calling upon me to go with him to visit her, I will breakoff here. 

Mrs. Jewkes is much as she was; but your faithful steward is come. Iam glad of it--and so is she--Nevertheless I will go every day, anddo all the good I can for the poor woman, according to your charitabledesires. 

I thank you for your communication of Lady Davers's letter, I am muchobliged to my lord, and her ladyship; and should have been proud of analliance with that noble family, but with all Mr. H. 's good qualities, as my lady paints them out, and his other advantages, I could not, forthe world, make him my husband. I'll tell you one of my objections, inconfidence, however, (for you are only to _sound_ me, you know:) andI would not have it mentioned that I have taken any thought about thematter, because a stronger reason may be given, such a one as mylord and lady will both allow; which I will communicate to you by andbye. --My objection arises even from what you intimate, of Mr. H. 'sgood humour, and his persuadableness, if I may so call it. Now, were Iof a boisterous temper, and high spirit, such an one as required greatpatience in a husband to bear with me, then Mr. H. 's good humour mighthave been a consideration with me. But when I have (I pride myself inthe thought) a temper not wholly unlike your own, and such an one aswould not want to contend for superiority with a husband, it is norecommendation to me, that Mr. H. Is a good-humoured gentleman, andwill bear with faults I design not to be guilty of. 

But, my dear Mrs. B. , my husband must be a man of sense, and give mereason to think he has a superior judgment to my own, or I shall beunhappy. He will otherwise do wrong-headed things: I shall be forcedto oppose him in them: he will be tenacious and obstinate, be taughtto talk of prerogative, and to call himself a _man_, without knowinghow to behave as one, and I to despise him, of course; so be deemeda bad wife, when, I hope, I have qualities that would make me atolerable good one, with a man of sense for my husband. 

Now you must not think I would dispense with real good-humour ina man. No, I make it one of my _indispensables_ in a husband. Agood-natured man will put the best constructions on what happens;but he must have sense to _distinguish_ the best. He will be kind tolittle, unwilful, undesigned failings: but he must have judgment todistinguish what _are_ or are _not so_. But Mr. H. 's good-humour issoftness, as I may call it; and my husband must be such an one, inshort, as I need not be ashamed to be seen with in company; one who, being my head, must not be beneath all the gentlemen he may happento fall in with, and who, every time he is adjusting his mouth forspeech, will give me pain at my heart, and blushes in my face, evenbefore he speaks. 

I could not bear, therefore, that every one we encountered should beprepared, whenever he offered to open his lips, by their contemptuoussmiles, to expect some weak and silly things from him; and when he_had_ spoken, that he should, with a booby grin, seem pleased that hehad not disappointed them. 

The only recommendatory point in Mr. H. Is, that he dressesexceedingly smart, and is no contemptible figure of a man. But, dearMadam, you know, that's so much the worse, _when_ the man's talentis not taciturnity, except before his aunt, or before Mr. B. Or you;_when_ he is not conscious of internal defect, and values himself uponoutward appearance. 

As to his attempts upon your Polly, though I don't like him the betterfor it, yet it is a fault so wickedly common among men, that when awoman resolves never to marry, till a quite virtuous man addressesher, it is, in other words, resolving to die single; so that Imake not this the _chief_ objection; and yet, I would abate in myexpectations of half a dozen other good qualities, rather than thatone of virtue in a husband--But when I reflect upon the figure Mr. H. Made in that affair, I cannot bear him; and, if I may judge of othercoxcombs by him, what wretches are these smart, well-dressing querpofellows, many of whom you and I have seen admiring themselves at theplays and operas!

This is one of my infallible rules, and I know it is yours too; thathe who is taken up with the admiration of his own person, will neveradmire a wife's. His delights are centred in himself, and he will notwish to get out of that exceeding narrow circle; and, in my opinion, should keep no company but that of taylors, wig-puffers, andmilliners. 

But I will run on no further upon this subject; but will tell you areason, which you _may_ give to Lady Davers, why her kind intentionsto me cannot be answered; and which she'll take better than what I_have said_, were she to know it, as I hope you won't let her: andthis is, my papa has had a proposal made to him from a gentlemanyou have seen, and have thought polite. It is from Sir W. G. Of thiscounty, who is one of your great admirers, and Mr. B. 's too; and that, you must suppose, makes me have never the worse opinion of him, orof his understanding; although it requires no great sagacity orpenetration to see how much you adorn our sex, and human nature too. 

Every thing was adjusted between my papa and mamma, and Sir William, on condition we approved of each other, before I came down; whichI knew not, till I had seen him here four times; and then my papasurprised me into half an approbation of him: and this, it seems, wasone of the reasons why I was so hurried down from you. I can't say, but I like the man as well as most I have seen; he is a man of senseand sobriety, to give him his due, in very easy circumstances, andmuch respected by all who know him; which is no bad earnest in amarriage prospect. But, hitherto, he seems to like me better than I dohim. I don't know how it is; but I often observe, that when any thingis in our power, we are not half so much taken with it, as we shouldbe, perhaps, if we were kept in suspense! Why should this be?--Butthis I am convinced of, there is no comparison between Sir William andMr. 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; andtwice Sir Simon has been forced to carry water to extinguish it; for, truly, Mrs. Murray would go home again to her papa; she would notlive with such a surly wretch: and it was with all his heart; a fairriddance! for there was no bearing the house with such an ill-naturedwife:--her sister Polly was worth a thousand of her!--I am heartilysorry for their unhappiness. But could she think every body must bearwith her, and her fretful ways?--They'll jangle on, I reckon, tillthey are better used to one another; and when he sees she can'thelp it, why he'll bear with her, as husbands generally do withill-tempered wives; he'll try to make himself happy abroad, and leaveher to quarrel with her maids, instead of him; for she must havesomebody to vent her spleen upon--poor Nancy!--I am glad to hear ofMr. 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 herso: something so innocent, and yet so artful in her very looks: she isan odd compound. But these worthy and piously turned young gentlemen, who have but just quitted the college, are mere novices, as to theworld: indeed they are _above_ it, while _in_ it; they thereforegive themselves little trouble to study it, and so, depending on thegoodness of their own hearts, are more liable to be imposed upon thanpeople of half their understanding. 

I think, since he seems to love her, you do right not to hinder thegirl's fortune. But I wish she may take your advice, in her behaviourto _him_, at least: for as to her carriage to her neighbours, Idoubt she'll be one of the heads of the parish, presently, in her ownestimation. 

'Tis pity, methinks, any worthy man of the cloth should have a wife, who, by her bad example, should pull down, as fast as he, by a goodone, can build up. This is not the case of Mrs. Peters, however; whoseexample I wish was more generally followed by gentlewomen, who aremade so by marrying good clergymen, if they were not so before. 

Don't be surprised, if you should hear that poor Jewkes is givenover!--She made a very exemplary--Full of blessings--And more easyand resigned, than I apprehended she would be. I know you'll sheda tear for the poor woman:--I can't help it myself. But you will bepleased that she had so much time given her, and made so good use ofit. 

Mr. Peters has been every thing that one would wish one of hisfunction to be, in his attendance and advice to the poor woman. Mr. Longman will take proper care of every thing. So, I will only add, that I am, with the sincerest respect, in hopes to see you soon (for Ihave a multitude of things to talk to you about), dear Mrs. B. , _yourever faithful and affectionate_ POLLY DARNFORD. 

LETTER LXXXV

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers. _

MY DEAR LADY DAVERS, I understand from Miss Darnford, that before she went down from us, her papa had encouraged a proposal made by Sir W. G. Whom you saw, when your ladyship was a kind visitor in Bedfordshire. We all agreed, if you remember, that he was a polite and sensible gentleman, and Ifind it is countenanced on all hands. Poor Mrs. Jewkes, Madam, asMiss informs me, has paid her last debt. I hope, through mercy, sheis happy!--Poor, poor woman! But why say I so!--Since, in _that_ case, she will be richer than an earthly monarch!

Your ladyship was once mentioning a sister of Mrs. Worden's whom youwished 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 meritif your ladyship thinks well of her; and your commands in this, aswell as in every other particular in my power, shall have their dueweight with _your ladyship's obliged sister and humble servant_, P. B. 

Just now, dear Madam, Mr. B. Tells me I shall have Miss Goodwillbrought me hither to-morrow. 

LETTER LXXXVI

_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 SirW. G. Will certainly make her. I was afraid that my proposal would notdo with her, had she not had so good a tender. I want _too_, to havethe foolish fellow married--for several reasons; one of which is, heis continually teasing us to permit him to go up to town, and residethere for some months, in order that he may _see the world_, as hecalls 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, andinconsiderate vanity, he is so exactly cut out and sized for a townfop, coxcomb, or pretty fellow, that he will undoubtedly fall into allthe vices of those people; and, perhaps, having such expectations ashe has, will be made the property of rakes and sharpers. Hecomplains that we use him like a child in a go-cart, or a baby withleading-strings, and that he must not be trusted out of our sight. 'Tis a sad thing, that these _bodies_ will grow up to the statureof men, when the _minds_ improve not at all with them, but are stillthose of boys and children. Yet, he would certainly make afond husband: for he has no very bad qualities. But is such aNarcissus!--But this between ourselves, for his uncle is wrapt up inthe fellow--And why? Because he is good-humoured, that's all. He hasvexed me lately, which makes me write so angrily about him--But 'tisnot worth troubling you with the particulars. I hope Mrs. Jewkes ishappy, as you say!--Poor woman! she seemed to promise for a longerlife! 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 theworld, but not much; has lived well; understands house-hold managementthoroughly; is diligent; and has a turn to serious things, which willmake 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 notexpect of her. 

You can't think how kindly I take this motion from you. You forgetnothing that can oblige your friends. Little did I think you wouldremember me of (what I had forgotten in a manner) my favourableopinion and wishes for her expressed so long ago. --But you are whatyou are--a dear obliging creature. 

Beck is all joy and gratitude upon it, and her sister had rather serveyou 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 pleases you so much, that Miss Goodwin will besoon put into your care. It will be happy for the child, and I hopeshe will be so dutiful as to give you no pain for your generousgoodness to her. Her mamma has sent me a present of some choiceproducts 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 tocall her already. 

What a naughty sister are you, however, to be so far advanced again asto be obliged to shorten your intended excursions, and yet not to sendme word of it yourself? Don't you know how much I interest myself inevery thing that makes for my brother's happiness and your's? moreespecially in so material a point as is the increase of a familythat it is my boast to be sprung from. Yet I must find this out byaccident, and by other hands!--Is not this very slighting!--But neverdo so again, and I'll forgive you now because of the joy it gives me;who am _your truly affectionate and obliged sister_, B. DAVERS. 

I thank you for your book upon the plays you saw. Inclosed is a listof some others, which I desire you to read, and to oblige me with yourremarks upon them at your leisure; though you may not, perhaps, haveseen them by the time you will favour me with your observations. 

LETTER LXXXVII

_From Mrs. B. To Lady Davers_. 

MY DEAR LADY DAVERS, I have a valuable present made me by the same lady; and therefore hopeyou will not take it amiss, that, with abundance of thanks, I returnyour's by Mrs. Worden, whose sister I much approve of, and thank yourladyship for your kind recommendation of so worthy a person. We beginwith so much good liking to one another, that I doubt not we shall bevery 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 thefollowing is a copy:

_From Mrs. Wrightson (formerly Miss Sally Godfrey) to Mrs. B. _

"HAPPY, DESERVEDLY HAPPY, DEAR LADY, "Permit these lines to kiss your hands from one, who, though she isa stranger to your person, is not so to your character: _that_ hasreached us here, in this remote part of the world, where you have asmany admirers as have heard of you. But I more particularly am boundto be so, by an obligation which I can never discharge, but by mydaily prayers for you, and the blessings I continually implore uponyou and yours. 

"I can write my whole mind _to_ you, though I cannot, from the mostdeplorable infelicity, receive _from_ you the wished-for favour of afew lines in return, written with the same unreservedness: so unhappyam 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--butlet my tears in these blots speak the rest--as my heart bleeds, andhas constantly bled ever since, at the grievous remembrance--butbelieve, however, dear Madam, that 'tis shame and sorrow, and notpride and impenitence, that make me both to speak out, to so muchpurity of life and manners, my own odious weakness. 

"Nevertheless, I ought, and I _will_ accuse myself by name. Imaginethen, illustrious lady, truly illustrious for virtues, infinitelysuperior to all the advantages of birth and fortune!--Imagine, Isay, that in this letter, you see before you the _once_ guilty, and therefore, I doubt, _always_ guilty, but _ever penitent_, SarahGodfrey; the unhappy, though fond and tender mother of the poorinfant, to whom your generous goodness has, I hear, 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 admiresat an awful distance, that virtue in you, which she could not practiseherself. 

"And will you, dearest lady, take under your own immediate protection, the poor unguilty infant? will you love her, for the sake of hersuffering mamma, whom you know not; for the sake of the gentleman, nowso dear to you, and so worthy of you, as I hear, with pleasure, heis? And will you, by the best example in the world, give me a moralassurance, that she will never sink into the fault, the weakness, the crime (I ought not to scruple to call it so) of her poorinconsiderate-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 myheavy reflections on my past misconduct, that my beloved Sally canboast a _virtuous_ and _innocent mamma_, who has withstood the snaresand temptations, that have been so fatal--elsewhere!--and whoseexample, and instructions, next to God's grace, will be the strongestfences 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 yourgenerous goodness to my poor, and, till now, _motherless_ infant. 

"I hope she, by her duty and obligingness, will do all in her littlepower to make you amends, and never give you cause to repent of thisyour _unexampled_ kindness to her and to _me_. She cannot, I hope(except her mother's crime has had an influence upon her, too muchlike that of an original stain), be of a sordid, or an ungratefulnature. And, O my poor Sally! if you _are_, and if ever you fail inyour duty to your new mamma, to whose care and authority I transfermy _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 makenow, on that _only_ condition, your implicit obedience to all your newmamma's commands and directions. 

"You may have the curiosity, Madam, to wish to know how I live: for nodoubt you have heard all my sad, sad story!--Know, then, that I amas happy, as a poor creature can be, who has once so deplorably, soinexcusably fallen. I have a worthy gentleman for my husband, whomarried me as a widow, whose only child by my former was the care ofher papa's friends, particularly of good Lacy Davers and her brother. Poor unhappy I! to be under such a sad necessity to disguise thetruth!--Mr. Wrightson (whose name I am unworthily honoured by) hasoften entreated me to send for the poor child, and to let her bejoined as his--killing thought, that it cannot be!--with two childrenI have by him!--Judge, my good lady, how that very generosity, which, had I been guiltless, would have added to my joys, must wound medeeper than even ungenerous or unkind usage from him could do! and howheavy that crime must lie upon me, which turns my very pleasures tomisery, and fixes all the joy I _can_ know, in repentance for my pastmisdeeds!--How happy are YOU, Madam, on the contrary; YOU, who havenothing of this sort to pall, nothing to mingle with your felicities!who, blessed in an honour untainted, and a conscience that cannotreproach you, are enabled to enjoy every well deserved comfort, as itoffers itself; and can _improve_ it too, by reflection on _your_ pastconduct! While _mine_, alas! like a winter frost, nips in the budevery rising satisfaction. 

"My husband is rich as well as generous, and very tender of me--Happy, if I could think _myself_ as deserving as _he_ thinks me!--Myprincipal 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 penitenceto 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, inanswer to the letter you have now in your hand, it will be one of thegreatest pleasures I_ can_ receive: a pleasure next to that which I_have_ received in knowing, that the gentleman you love best, has hadthe grace to repent of all his evils; has early seen his errors; andhas thereby, I hope, freed_ two_ persons from being, one day, mutualaccusers of each other; for now I please myself to think, that thecrimes of both may be washed away in the blood of that Saviour God, whom both have so grievously offended!

"May that God, who has not suffered me to be abandoned entirely tomy own shame, as I deserved, continue to shower down upon you thoseblessings, which a virtue like yours may expect from his mercy! Mayyou long be happy in the possession of all you wish! and late, verylate (for the good of thousands, I wish this!) may you receive thereward 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 whichcan have no value, but what its excelling qualities, for what it is, will give it at so great a distance as that dear England, which Ionce left with so much shame and regret; but with a laudable purpose, _however_, because I would not incur still _greater_ shame, and ofconsequence give cause for still _greater_ regret!"

To this letter, my dear Lady Davers, I have written the followinganswer, which Mr. B. Will take care to have conveyed to her. 

"DEAREST MADAM, "I embrace with great pleasure the opportunity you have so kindlygiven me, of writing to a lady whose person though I have not thehonour to know, yet whose character, and noble qualities, I trulyrevere. 

"I am infinitely obliged to you. Madam, for the precious trustyou have reposed in me, and the right you make over to me, of yourmaternal interest in a child, on whom I set my heart, the moment I sawher. 

"Lady Davers, whose love and tenderness for Miss, as well for hermamma's sake, as your late worthy spouse's, had, from her kind opinionof me, consented to grant me this favour: and I was, by Mr. B. 'sleave, in actual possession of my pretty ward about a week before yourkind letter came to my hands. 

"As I had been long very solicitous for this favour, judge how welcomeyour kind concurrence was: and the rather, as, had I known, that aletter from you was on the way to me, I should have feared you wouldinsist upon depriving the surviving friends of her dear papa, of thepleasure they take in the dear child. Indeed, Madam, I believe weshould one and all have joined to disobey you, had _that_ been thecase; and it is a great satisfaction to us, that we are not under sohard a necessity, as to dispute with a tender mamma the possession ofher own child. 

"Assure yourself, worthiest Madam, of a care and tenderness in me tothe 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; andmy care, by God's grace, shall extend to her _future_ as well as toher _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 account you give of your presenthappiness. It was impossible that God Almighty should desert a ladyso exemplarily deserving; and he certainly conducted you in yourresolutions to abandon every thing that you loved in England, afterthe loss of your dear spouse, because it seems to have been hisintention that you should reward the merit of Mr. Wrightson, and meetwith your own reward in so doing. 

"Miss is very fond of my little Billy: she is a charming child, iseasy and genteel in her shape, and very pretty; she dances finely, has a sweet air, and is improving every day in music; works with herneedle, and reads admirably for her years; and takes a delight inboth, which gives me no small pleasure. But she is not very forward inher penmanship, as you will see by what follows: the inditing too isher 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 honouredmamma. I promise to follow all your directions. Indeed, and upon myword, I will. You please me mightily in giving me so dear a new mammahere. Now I know indeed I have a mamma, and I will love and obey her, as if she was you your own self. Indeed I will. You must always blessme, because I will be always good. I hope you will believe me, becauseI am above telling fibs. I am, my honoured mamma on the other sideof the water, and ever will be, as if you was here, _your dutifuldaughter_, "SALLY GOODWIN. "

"Miss (permit me, dear Madam, to subjoin) is a very good temperedchild, easy to be persuaded, and I hope loves me dearly; and I willendeavour to make her love me better and better; for on that love willdepend the regard which, I hope, she will pay to all I shall say anddo for her good. 

"Repeating my acknowledgements for the kind trust you repose in me, and with thanks for the valuable present you have sent me, we all herejoin in respects to worthy Mr. Wrightson, and in wishing you. Madam, a continuance and increase of worldly felicity; and I particularlybeg leave to assure you, that I am, and ever will be, with the highestrespect and gratitude, though personally unknown, dearest Madam, _theaffectionate admirer of your piety, and your obliged humble servant_, "P. B. "

Your ladyship will see how I was circumscribed and limited; otherwiseI would have said (what I have mentioned more than once), how I admireand honour her for her penitence, and for that noble resolution, whichenabled her to do what thousands could not have had the heart to do, abandon her country, her relations, friends, baby, and all that wasdear to her, as well as the seducer, whom she too well loved, andhazard the sea, the dangers of pirates, and possibly of other wickedattempters of the mischievous sex, in a world she knew nothingof, among strangers; and all to avoid repeating a sin she had beenunhappily drawn into; and for which she still abhors herself. 

Must not such a lady as this, dear Madam, have as much merit as manyeven of those, who, having not had her temptations, have not fallen?This, at least, one may aver, that next to not committing an error, isthe resolution to retrieve it all that one may, to repent of it, andstudiously to avoid the repetition. But who, besides this excellentMrs. Wrightson, having so fallen, and being still so ardentlysolicited and pursued, (and flattered, perhaps, by fond hopes, thather spoiler would one day do her all the justice he _could_--forwho can do complete justice to a woman he has robbed of herhonour?)--could resolve as she resolved, and act as she acted? MissGoodwin is a sweet child; but, permit me to say, has a little ofher papa's spirit; hasty, yet generous and acknowledging when she isconvinced of her fault; a little haughtier and prouder than I wish herto be; but in every thing else deserves the character I give of her toher mamma. 

She is very fond of fine clothes, is a little too lively to theservants. --Told me once, when I took notice that softness and mildnessof speech became a young lady, that they were _but_ servants! and shecould say no more than, "Pray, " and "I desire, " and "I wish you'd beso kind, " to her uncle or to me. 

I told her, that good servants deserved any civil distinctions; andthat so long as they were ready to oblige in every thing, by a kindword, it would be very wrong to give them imperative ones, which couldserve for no other end but to convince observers of the haughtinessof one's own temper; and looked, as if one would question theircompliance with our wills, unless we would exact it with an high hand;which might cast a slur upon the command we gave, as if we thought itwas hardly so reasonable as otherwise to obtain their observation ofit. 

"Besides, my dear, " said I, "you don't consider, that if you speakas haughtily and commandingly to them on common, as on extraordinaryoccasions, you weaken your own authority, if even you should bepermitted to have any, and they'll regard you no more in the one casethan in the other. "

She takes great notice of what I say, and when her little proud heartis subdued by reasonings she cannot answer, she will sit as if shewere studying what to say, to come off as flying as she can, and asthe case requires, I let her go off easily, or push the little dear toher last refuge, and make her quit her post, and yield up her spirit acaptive to Reason and Discretion: two excellent commanders, with whom, I tell her, I must bring her to be intimately acquainted. 

Yet, after all, till I can be sure that I can inspire her with thelove of virtue, for its _own_ sake, I will rather try to conduct herspirit to proper ends, than endeavour totally to subdue it; beingsensible that our passions are given us for excellent ends, and thatthey may, by a proper direction, be made subservient to the noblestpurposes. 

I tell her sometimes, there may be a decent pride in humility, andthat it is very possible for a young lady to behave with so much_true_ dignity, as shall command respect by the turn of her eye, sooner than by asperity of speech; that she may depend upon it, theperson, who is always finding faults, frequently causes them; and thatit is no glory to be better born than servants, if she is not betterbehaved too. 

Besides, I tell her humility is a grace that shines in a _high_condition, but cannot equally in a _low_ one; because that is alreadytoo much humbled, perhaps: and that, though there is a censure liesagainst being _poor and proud_, yet I would rather forgive pride in apoor body, than in a rich: for in the rich it is insult and arrogance, proceeding from their high condition; but in the poor it may be adefensative against dishonesty, and may shew a natural braveryof mind, perhaps, if properly directed, and manifested on rightoccasions, that the frowns of fortune cannot depress. 

She says she hears every day things from me, which her governess nevertaught her. 

That may very well be, I tell her, because her governess has _many_young ladies to take care of: I but _one_; and that I want to make herwise and prudent betimes, that she may be an example to other Misses;and that governesses and mammas shall say to their Misses, "When willyou be like Miss Goodwin? Do you ever hear Miss Goodwin say a naughtyword? Would Miss Goodwin, think you, have done so or so?"

She threw her arms about my neck, on one such occasion as this; "Oh, "said she, "what a charming mamma have I got! I will be in every thingas like you, as ever I can!--and then you will love me, and so will myuncle, and so will every body else. "

Mr. B. Whom now-and-then, she says, she loves as well as if he was herown papa, sees with pleasure how we go on. But she tells me, I mustnot have any daughter but her, and is very jealous on the occasionabout which your ladyship so kindly reproaches me. 

There is a pride, you know, Madam, in some of our sex, that serves touseful purposes, is a good defence against improper matches, and meanactions; and is not wholly to be subdued, for that reason; for, thoughit is not _virtue_, yet, if it can be virtue's _substitute_, in high, rash, and inconsiderate minds, it; may turn to good account. So Iwill not quite discourage my dear pupil neither, till I see whatdiscretion, and riper years, may add to her distinguishing faculty. For, as some have no notion of pride, separate from imperiousness andarrogance, so others know no difference between humility and meanness. 

There is a golden mean in every thing; and if it please God to spareus both, I will endeavour to point her passions, and such even ofthose foibles, which seem too deeply rooted to be soon eradicated, to useful purposes; choosing to imitate physicians, who, in certainchronical illnesses, as I have read in Lord Bacon, rather proceed bypalliatives, than by harsh extirpatives, which, through the resistancegiven to them by the constitution, may create such ferments in it, asmay destroy that health it was their intention to establish. 

But whither am I running?--Your ladyship, I hope, will excuse thisparading freedom of my pen: for though these notions are well enoughwith regard to Miss Goodwin, they must be very impertinent to alady, who can so much better instruct Miss's tutoress than that vaintutoress can her pupil. And, therefore, with my humblest respects tomy good Lord Davers, and your noble neighbours, and to Mr. H. I hastento conclude myself _your ladyship's obliged sister, and obedientservant_, P. B. 

Your Billy, Madam, is a charming dear!--I long to have you see him. He sends you a kiss upon this paper. You'll see it stained, just here. The charmer has cut two teeth, and is about more: so you'll excuse thedear, pretty, slabbering boy. Miss Goodwin is ready to eat himwith love: and Mr. B. Is fonder and fonder of us all: and then yourladyship, and my good Lord Davers love us too. O, Madam, what ablessed creature am I!

Miss Goodwin begs I'll send her duty to her _noble_ uncle and aunt;that's her just distinction always, when she speaks of you both. Sheasked me, pretty dear, just now, If I think there is such a happy girlin the world as she is? I tell her, God always blesses good Misses, and makes them happier and happier. 

LETTER LXXXVIII

MY DEAR LADY DAVERS, I have three marriages to acquaint you with, in one letter. In thefirst place, Sir W. G. Has sent, by the particular desire of my dearfriend, that he was made one of the happiest men in England, on the18th past; and so I have no longer my Miss Darnford to boast of. Ihave a very good opinion of the gentleman; but if he be but half sogood a husband as she will make a wife, they will be exceedingly happyin one another. 

Mr. Williams's marriage to a kinswoman of his noble patron (as youhave heard was in treaty) is the next; and there is great reason tobelieve, from the character of both, that they will likewise do creditto the state. 

The third is Mr. Adams and Polly Barlow; and I wish them, for boththeir sakes, as happy as either of the former. They are set out to hisliving, highly pleased with one another; and I hope will have reasonto continue so to be. 

As to the first, I did not indeed think the affair would have been sosoon concluded; and Miss kept it off so long, as I understood, thather papa was angry with her: and, indeed, as the gentleman's family, circumstances, and character, were such, that there could lie noobjection against him, I think it would have been wrong to havedelayed it. 

I should have written to your ladyship before; but have been favouredwith Mr. B. 's company into Kent, on a visit to my good mother, who wasindisposed. We tarried there a week, and left both my dear parents, tomy thankful satisfaction, in as good health as ever they were in theirlives. 

Mrs. Judy Swynford, or Miss Swynford (as she refuses not being called, now and then), has been with us for this week past; and she expectsher brother, Sir Jacob, to fetch her away in about a week hence. 

It does not become me to write the least word that may appeardisrespectful of any person related to your ladyship and Mr. B. Otherwise I should say, that the B----s and the S----s are directlythe opposites of one another. But yet, as she never saw your ladyshipbut once, you will forgive me to mention a word or two about her, because she is a character that is in a manner new to me. 

She is a maiden lady, as you know, and though she will not part withthe green leaf from her hand, one sees by the grey-goose down on herbrows and her head, that she cannot be less than fifty-five. But somuch pains does she take, by powder, to have never a dark hair in herhead, because she has one half of them white, that I am sorry to see, what is a subject for reverence, should be deemed, by the good lady, matter of concealment. 

She is often seemingly reproaching herself, that she is an _old maid_, and an _old woman_; but it is very discernible, that she expectsa compliment, that she is _not so_, every time she is so free withherself: and if nobody makes her one, she will say something of thatsort in her own behalf. 

She takes particular care, that of all the public transactions whichhappen to be talked of, her memory will never carry her back abovethirty years! and then it is--"About thirty years ago; when I was agirl, " or "when I was in hanging sleeves;" and so she makes herself, for twenty years of her life, a very useless and insignificant person. 

If her teeth, which, for her age, are very good, though not over white(and which, by her care of them, she seems to look upon as the lastremains of her better days), would but fail, it might help her to aconviction, that would set her ten years forwarder at least. But, poorlady, she is so _young_, in spite of her wrinkles, that I am reallyconcerned for her affectation; because it exposes her to the remarksand ridicule of the gentlemen, and gives one pain for her. 

Surely, these ladies don't act prudently at all; since, for every yearMrs. Judy would take from her age, her censurers add two to it; and, behind her back, make her going on towards seventy; whereas, if shewould lay claim to her _reverentials_, as I may say, and not try toconceal her age, she would have many compliments for looking so wellat her years. --And many a young body would hope to be the better forher advice and experience, who now are afraid of affronting her, ifthey suppose she has lived much longer in the world than themselves. 

Then she looks back to the years she owns, when more flippant ladies, at the laughing time of her life, delight to be frolic: she tries tosing too, although, if ever she had a voice, she has outlived it; andher songs are of so antique a date, that they would betray her; only, as she says, they were learnt her by her grandmother, who was a finelady at the Restoration. She will join in a dance; and though herlimbs move not so pliantly as might be expected of a lady no olderthan she would be thought, and whose dancing-days are not entirelyover, yet that was owing to a fall from her horse some years ago, which, she doubts, she shall never recover, though she finds she growsbetter and better, _every year_. 

Thus she loses the respect, the reverence, she might receive, were itnot for this miserable affectation; takes pains, by aping youth, tomake herself unworthy of her years, and is content to be thought lessdiscreet than she might otherwise be deemed, for fear she should beimagined older if she appeared wiser. 

What a sad thing is this, Madam!--What a mistaken conduct! We pray tolive to old age; and it is promised as a blessing, and as a reward forthe performance of certain duties; and yet, when we come to it, we hadrather be thought as foolish as youth, than to be deemed wise, and inpossession of it. And so we shew how little we deserve what we havebeen so long coveting; and yet covet on: for what? Why, to be more andmore ashamed, and more and more unworthy of that we covet!

How fantastic a character is this!-Well may irreverent, unthinkingyouth despise, instead of revere, the hoary head which the wearer isso much ashamed of. The lady boasts a relationship to you, and Mr. B. And, I think, I am very bold. But my reverence for years, and thedisgust I have to see anybody behave unworthy of them, makes me takethe greater liberty: which, however, I shall wish I had not taken, ifit meets not with that allowance, which I have always had from yourladyship in what I write. 

God knows whether ever I may enjoy the blessing I so much revere inothers. For now my heavy time approaches. But I was so apprehensivebefore, and so troublesome to my best friends, with my vapourishfears, that now (with a perfect resignation to the Divine Will) I willonly add, that I am _your ladyship's most obliged sister and servant_, P. B. 

My dear Billy, and Miss Goodwin, improve every day, and are all I candesire or expect them to be. Could Miss's poor mamma be here with awish, and back again, how much would she be delighted with one of ourafternoon conferences; our Sunday employments especially!--And letme add, that I am very happy in another young gentleman of the dean'srecommending, instead of Mr. Adams. 

LETTER LXXXIX

MY DEAREST LADY, I am once more, blessed be God for all his mercies to me! enabled, on my upsitting, to thank you, and my noble lord, for all your kindsolicitudes for my welfare. Billy every day improves. Miss is all Iwish her to be, and my second dear boy continues to be as lovely andas fine a baby as your ladyship was pleased to think him; and theirpapa, the best of husbands!

I am glad to hear Lady Betty is likely to be so happy. Mr. B. Says, her noble admirer is as worthy a gentleman as any in the peerage; andI beg of you to congratulate the dear lady, and her noble parents, in my name, if I should be at a distance, when the nuptials arecelebrated. 

I have had the honour of a visit from my lady, the Countess Dowager, on occasion of her leaving the kingdom for a year or two, for whichspace she designs to reside in Italy, principally at Naples orFlorence; a design she took up some time ago, but which it seems shecould not conveniently put into execution till now. 

Mr. B. Was abroad when her ladyship came, and I expected him not tillthe next day. She sent her gentleman, the preceding evening, to let meknow that business had brought her as far as Wooburn; and if it wouldnot be unacceptable, she would pay her respects to me at breakfast, the next morning, being speedily to leave England. I returned, that Ishould be very proud of that honour. And about ten her ladyship came. 

She was exceedingly fond of my two boys, the little man, and thepretty baby, as she called them; and I had very different emotionsfrom the expression of her love to Billy, and her visit to me, fromwhat I had once before. She was sorry, she said, Mr. B. Was abroad;though her business was principally with me. "For, Mrs. B. , " said she, "I come to tell you all that passed between Mr. B. And myself, thatyou may not think worse of either of us, than we deserve; and I couldnot leave England till I had waited on you for this purpose; and yet, perhaps, from the distance of time, you'll think it needless now. And, indeed, I should have waited on you before, to have cleared up mycharacter with you, had I thought I should have been so long kept onthis side of the water. "--I said, I was very sorry I had ever beenuneasy, when I had two persons of so much honour--"Nay, " said she, interrupting me, "you have no need to apologize; things looked badenough, as they were presented to you, to justify greater uneasinessthan you expressed. "

She asked me, who that pretty genteel Miss was?--I said, a relation ofLord Davers, who was entrusted lately to my care. "Then, Miss, " saidher ladyship, and kissed her, "you are very happy. "

Believing the Countess was desirous of being alone with me, I said, "My dear Miss Goodwin, won't you go to your little nursery, my love?"for so she calls my last blessing--"You'd be sorry the baby should cryfor you. " For she was so taken with the charming lady, that she wasloth to leave us--But, on my saying this, withdrew. 

When we were alone, the Countess began her story, with a sweetconfusion, which added to her loveliness. She said she would bebrief, because she should exact all my attention, and not suffer meto interrupt her till she had done. She began with acknowledging, thatshe thought, when she first saw Mr. B. At the masquerade, that he wasthe finest gentleman she had ever seen; that the allowed freedoms ofthe place had made her take liberties in following him, and engaginghim wherever he went. She blamed him very freely for passing for asingle man; for that, she said, since she had so splendid a fortuneof her own, was all she was solicitous about; having never, as sheconfessed, seen a man she could like so well; her former marriagehaving been in some sort forced upon her, at an age when she knew nothow to distinguish; and that she was very loth to believe him married, even when she had no reason to doubt it. "Yet this I must say, " saidshe, "I never heard a man, when he owned he was married, expresshimself with more affectionate regard and fondness than he did ofyou; which made me long to see you; for I had a great opinion of thosepersonal advantages which every one flattered me with; and was veryunwilling to yield the palm of beauty to you. 

"I believe you will censure me, Mrs. B. , for permitting his visitsafter I knew he was married. To be sure, that was a thoughtless, anda faulty part of my conduct. But the world's saucy censures, andmy friends' indiscreet interposals, incensed me; and, knowing theuprightness of my own heart, I was resolved to disgrace both, when Ifound they could not think worse of me than they did. 

"I am naturally of a high spirit, impatient of contradiction, alwaysgave myself freedoms, for which, satisfied with my own innocence, Ithought myself above being accountable to any body--And then Mr. B. Has such noble sentiments, a courage and fearlessness, which I sawon more occasions than one, that all ladies who know the weakness oftheir own sex, and how much they want the protection of the brave, are taken with. Then his personal address was so peculiarlydistinguishing, that having an opinion of his honour, I wasembarrassed greatly how to deny myself his conversation; although, you'll pardon me, Mrs. B. , I began to be afraid that my reputationmight suffer in the world's opinion for the indulgence. 

"Then, when I had resolved, as I did several times, to see him nomore, some unforeseen accident threw him in my way again, at oneentertainment or other; for I love balls and concerts, and publicdiversions, perhaps, better than I ought; and then I had all myresolves to begin again. Yet this I can truly say, whatever his viewswere, I never heard from him the least indecent expression, nor saw inhis behaviour to me much to apprehend; saving, I began to fear, thatby his insinuating address, and noble manner, I should be too much inhis power, and too little in my own, if I went on so little doubting, and so little alarmed, if ever he should avow dishonourable designs. 

"I had often lamented, that our sex were prohibited, by the designsof the other upon their honour, and by the world's censures, fromconversing with the same ease and freedom with gentlemen, as with oneanother. And when once I asked myself, to what this conversationmight tend at last? and where the pleasure each seemed to take in theother's, might possibly end? I resolved to break it off; and toldhim my resolution next time I saw him. But he stopped my mouth with aromantic notion, as I since think it, (though a sorry plea will haveweight in favour of a proposal, to which one has no aversion) ofPlatonic love; and we had an intercourse by letters, to the number ofsix or eight, I believe, on that and other subjects. 

"Yet all this time, I was the less apprehensive, because he alwaysspoke so tenderly, and even with delight, whenever he mentionedhis lady; and I could not find, that you were at all alarmed at ouracquaintance: for I never scrupled to send my letters, by my ownlivery, to your house, sealed with my own seal. At last, indeed, hebegan to tell me, that from the sweetest and evenest temper in theworld, you seemed to be leaning towards melancholy, were always intears, or shewed you had been weeping, when he came home; and that youdid not make his return to you so agreeable as he used to find it. 

"I asked if it were not owing to some alteration in his own temper?If you might not be uneasy at our acquaintance, and at his frequentabsence from you, and the like? He answered, No; that you were abovedisguises, were of a noble and frank nature, and would have hinted itto him, if you had. This, however, when I began to think seriously ofthe matter, gave me but little satisfaction; and I was more andmore convinced, that my honour required it of me, to break off thisintimacy. 

"And although I permitted Mr. B. To go with me to Tunbridge, when Iwent to take a house there, yet I was uneasy, as he saw. And, indeed, so was he, though he tarried a day or two longer than he designed, onaccount of a little excursion my sister and her lord, and he and I, made into Sussex, to see an estate I thought of purchasing; for he wasso good as to look into my affairs, and has put them upon an admirableestablishment. 

"His uneasiness, I found, was upon your account, and he sent you aletter to excuse himself for not waiting on you on Saturday, and tosay, he would dine with you on Monday. And I remember when Isaid, 'Mr. B. , you seem to be chagrined at something; you are morethoughtful than usual: 'his answer was, 'Madam, you are right, Mrs. B. And I have had a little misunderstanding. She is so solemn, and somelancholy of late, I fear it will be no difficult matter to put herout of her right mind: and I love her so well, that then I shouldhardly keep my own. '

"'Is there no reason, think you, ' said I, 'to imagine that youracquaintance with me gives her uneasiness? You know, Mr. B. , how thatvillain T. ' (a man, " said she, "whose insolent address I rejected withthe contempt it deserved) 'has slandered us. How know you, but he hasfound a way to your wife's ear, as he has done to my uncle's, and toall my friends'? And if so, it is best for us both to discontinue afriendship, that may be attended with disagreeable consequences. '

"He said, he should find it out on his return. 'And will you, ' said I, 'ingenuously acquaint me with the issue of your inquiries? for, ' addedI, 'I never beheld a countenance, in so young a lady, that seemed tomean more than Mrs. B. 's, when I saw her in town; and notwithstandingher prudence I could see a reserve and thoughtfulness in it, that, ifit was not natural to it, must indicate too much. '

"He wrote to me, in a very moving letter, the issue of yourconference, and referred to some papers of your's, that he would shewme, as soon as he could procure them, they being of your own hands;and let me know that T. Was the accuser, as I had suspected. 

"In brief, Madam, when you went down into Kent, he read to mesome part of your account to Lady Davers, of your informant andinformation; your apprehensions; your prudence; your affection forhim; the reason of your melancholy; and, to all appearance, reasonenough you had, especially from the letter of Thomasine Fuller, which was one of T. 's vile forgeries: for though we had often, forargument's sake, talked of polygamy (he arguing for it, I against it), yet had not Mr. B. Dared, nor was he inclined, I verily believe, topropose any such thing to me: no, Madam, I was not so much abandonedto a sense of honour, as to give reason for any one, but myimpertinent and foolish uncle, to impute such a folly to me; and hehad so behaved to me, that I cared not what _he_ thought. 

"Then, what he read to me, here and there, as he pleased, gave mereason to admire you for your generous opinion of one you had so muchseeming cause to be afraid of: he told me his apprehensions, from youruncommon manner, that your mind was in some degree affected, and yourstrange proposal of parting with a husband every one knows you sodearly love: and we agreed to forbear seeing each other, and allmanner of correspondence, except by letter, for one month, till someof my affairs were settled, which had been in great disorder, and werein his kind management then; and I had not one relation, whom I caredto trouble with them, because of their treatment of me on Mr. B. 'saccount. And this, I told him, should not be neither, but through yourhands, and with your consent. 

"And thus, Madam, " said her ladyship, "have I told you the naked truthof the whole affair. I have seen Mr. B. Very seldom since: and whenI have, it has been either at a horse-race, in the open field, or atsome public diversion, by accident, where only distant civilities havepassed between us. 

"I respect him greatly; you must allow me to say that. Except in thearticle of permitting me to believe, for some time, that he was asingle gentleman, a fault he cannot be excused for, and which made meheartily quarrel with him, when I first knew it, he has behaved tome with so much generosity and honour, that I could have wished Ihad been of his sex, since he had a lady so much more deserving thanmyself; and then, had he had the same esteem for me, there never wouldhave been a more perfect friendship. I am now going, " continued she, "to embark for France, and shall pass a year or two in Italy; and thenI shall, I hope, return as solid, as grave, as circumspect, though notso wise, as Mrs. B. "

Thus the Countess concluded her narrative: I said, I was greatlyobliged to her for the honour of this visit, and the kind andconsiderate occasion of it: but that Mr. B. Had made me entirely happyin every particular, and had done her ladyship the justice she so welldeserved, having taken upon himself the blame of passing as a singleman at his first acquaintance with her. 

I added, that I could hope her ladyship might be prevented, by somehappy man, from leaving a kingdom, to which she was so great anornament, as well by her birth, her quality and fortune, as by herperfections of person and mind. 

She said, she had not been the happiest of her sex in her formermarriage: although nobody, her youth considered, thought her a badwife; and her lord's goodness to her, at his death, had demonstratedhis own favourable opinion of her by deeds, as he had done by wordsupon all occasions: but that she was yet young; a little too gay andunsettled: and had her head turned towards France and Italy, havingpassed some time in those countries, which she thought of withpleasure, though then only twelve or thirteen: that for this reason, and having been on a late occasion still more unsettled (looking downwith blushes, which often overspread her face, as she talked), she hadrefused some offers, not despicable: that indeed Lord C. Threatened tofollow her to Italy, in hopes of meeting better success there, thanhe had met with here: but if he did, though she would make noresolutions, she might be too much offended with him, to give himreason to boast of his journey; and this the rather, as she believedhe had once entertained no very honourable notions of her friendshipfor Mr. B. 

She wished to see Mr. B. And to take leave of him, but not out of mycompany, she was pleased to say. --"Your ladyship's consideration forme, " replied I, "lays me under high obligation; but indeed, Madam, there is no occasion for it, from any diffidences I have in your's orMr. B. 's honour. And if you will give me the pleasure of knowing whenit will be most acceptable, I will beg of Mr. B. To oblige me with hiscompany to return this favour, the first visit I make abroad. "

"You are very kind, Mrs. B. , " said she: "but I think to go toTunbridge for a fortnight, when I have disposed of every thing formy embarkation, and so set out from thence. And if you should then beboth in Kent, I should be glad to take you at your word. "

To be sure, I said, Mr. B. At least, would attend her ladyship there, if any thing should happen to deprive me of that honour. 

"You are very obliging, " said she, "I take great concern to myself, for having caused you a moment's uneasiness formerly: but I must nowtry to be circumspect, in order to retrieve my character, which hasbeen so basely traduced by that presumptuous fellow Turner, who hoped, I suppose, by that means, to bring me down to his level. "

Her ladyship would not be prevailed upon to stay dinner; and, sayingshe would be at Wooburn all the next day, took a very tender leave ofme, wishing me all manner of happiness, as I did her. 

Mr. B. Came home in the evening, and next morning rode to Wooburn, topay his respects to the Countess, and came back in the evening. 

Thus happily, and to the satisfaction of all three, as I hope, endedthis perplexing affair. 

Mr. B. Asks me how I relish Mr. Locke's _Treatise on Education_?which he put into my hands some time since, as I told your ladyship. Ianswered, Very well; and I thought it an excellent piece in the main. 

"I'll tell you, " said he, "what you shall do. You have not shewed meany thing you have written for a good while. I could wish you to fillup your leisure-time with your observations on that treatise, that Imay know what you can object to it; for you say _in the main_, whichshews, that you do not entirely approve of every part of it. "

"But will not that be presumptuous, Sir?"

"I admire Mr. Locke, " replied he; "and I admire my Pamela. I haveno doubt of his excellencies, but I want to know the sentiments of ayoung mother, as well as of a learned gentleman, upon the subject ofeducation; because I have heard several ladies censure some part ofhis regimen, when I am convinced, that the fault lies in their ownover-great fondness for their children. "

"As to myself, Sir, who, in the early part of my life, have not beenbrought up too tenderly, you will hardly meet with any objection tothe part which I imagine you have heard most objected to by ladies whohave been more indulgently treated in their first stage. But thereare a few other things that want clearing up to my understanding; but, which, however, may be the fault of that. "

"Then, my dear, " said he, "suppose me at a distance from you, cannotyou give me your remarks in the same manner, as if you were writing toLady Davers, or to Miss Darnford, that 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 bepleased with it. But I confine you not to time or place. We will makeour excursions as I once proposed; and do you write to me now-and-thenupon the subject; for the places and remarkables you will see, will benew only to yourself; nor will either of those ladies expect fromyou an itinerary, or a particular description of countries, which arebetter described by authors who have made it their business to treatupon those subjects. By this means, you will be usefully employed inyour own way, which may turn to good account to us both, and to thedear children, which it may please God to bestow upon us. "

"You don't expect, Sir, any thing regular, or digested from me. "

"I don't, my dear. Let your fancy and your judgment be both employed, and I require no method; for I know, in your easy, natural way, thatwould be a confinement, which would cramp your genius, and give whatyou write a stiff, formal air, that I might expect in a pedagogue, butnot in my Pamela. "

"Well, but, Sir, although I may write nothing to the purpose, yet ifLady Davers desires it, you will allow me to transmit what I shallwrite to her, when you have perused it yourself? For your good sisteris so indulgent to my scribble, she will expect to be always hearingfrom me; and this way I shall oblige her ladyship while I obey herbrother. "

"With all my heart, " he was pleased to say. 

So, my lady, I shall now-and-then pay my respects to you in thewriting way, though I must address myself, it seems, to my dearest Mr. B. ; and I hope to be received on these my own terms, since they areyour brother's also, and, at the same time, such as will convince you, how much I wish to approve myself, to the best of my poor ability, _your ladyship's most obliged sister, and humble servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XC

My dearest Mr. B. , I have been considering of your commands, in relation to Mr. Locke'sbook, and since you are pleased to give me time to acquit myselfof the task, I shall beg to include in a little book my humblesentiments, as I did to Lady Davers, in that I shewed you in relationto the plays I had seen. And since you confine me not to time orplace, I may be three or four years in completing it, because I shallreserve some subjects to my further experience in children's ways andtempers, and in order to benefit myself by the good instructions Ishall receive from your delightful conversation, in that compass oftime, if God spare us to one another: and then it will, moreover, bestill worthier of the perusal of the most honoured and best beloved ofall my correspondents, much honoured and beloved as they all are. 

I must needs say, my dear Mr. B. , that this is a subject to whichI was always particularly attentive; and among the charities yourbountiful heart permits me to dispense to the poor and indigent, I have had always a watchful eye upon the children of such, andendeavoured, by questions put to them, as well as to their parents, to inform myself of their little ways and tempers, and how naturedelights to work in different minds, and how it might be pointed totheir good, according to their respective capacities; and I have forthis purpose erected, with your approbation, a little school of sevenor eight children, among which is four in the earliest stages, whenthey can but just speak, and call for what they want and love: and Iam not a little pleased to observe, when I visit them in their schooltime that principles of goodness and virtue may be instilled intotheir little hearts much earlier than is usually imagined. And whyshould it not be so? for may not the child, that can tell its wants, and make known its inclination, be easily made sensible of _yours_, and what you expect from it, provided you take a proper method? For, sometimes, signs and tokens (and even looks), uniformly practised, will do as well as words; as we see in such of the young of the brutecreation as we are disposed to domesticate, and to teach to practisethose little tricks, of which the aptness or docility of their naturesmakes them capable. 

But yet, dearest Sir, I know not enough of the next stage, the_maturer_ part of life, to touch upon that as I wish to do: and yetthere is a natural connection and progression from the one to theother: and I would not be thought a vain creature, who believesherself equal to _every_ subject, because she is indulged with thegood opinion of her friends, in a _few_, which are supposed to bewithin 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, permitme, Sir, to suspend, till I am better qualified for it, even my ownproposal of beginning my little book; and, in the mean time, to touchupon a few places of the admirable author, that seem to me to warrantanother way of thinking, than that which he prescribes. 

But, dear Sir, let me premise, that all that your dear babies candemand of my attention for some time to come, is their health; and Godhas blessed them with such sound limbs, and, to all appearances, goodconstitutions, that I have very little to do, but to pray for themevery time I pray for their dear papa; and that is hourly; and yetnot so often as you confer upon me benefits and favours, and newobligations, even to the prevention of all my wishes, were I to sitdown and study for what must be the next. 

As to this point of _health_, Mr. Locke gives these plain and easy tobe observed rules. 

He prescribes first, _plenty of open air_. That this is right, theinfant will inform one, who, though it cannot speak, will make signsto be carried abroad, and is never so well pleased, as when enjoyingthe open and free air; for which reason I conclude, that this is oneof those natural pointings, as I may say, that are implanted in everycreature, teaching it to choose its good, and to avoid its evil. 

_Sleep_ is the next, which he enjoins to be indulged to its utmostextent: an admirable rule, as I humbly conceive; since sound sleep isone of the greatest nourishers of nature, both to the once youngand to the _twice_ young, if I may use the phrase. And I the ratherapprove of this rule, because it keeps the nurse unemployed, whootherwise may be doing it the greatest mischief, by cramming andstuffing its little bowels, till ready to burst. And, if I am right, what an inconsiderate and foolish, as well as pernicious practice itis, for a nurse to _waken_ the child from its nourishing sleep, forfear it should suffer by hunger, and instantly pop the breast intoits pretty mouth, or provoke it to feed, when it has no inclination toeither, and for want of digestion, must have its nutriment turned torepletion, and bad humours!

Excuse me, dear Sir, these lesser particulars. Mr. Locke begins withthem; and surely they may be allowed in a young _mamma_, writing(however it be to a gentleman of genius and learning) to a _papa_, ona subject, that in its lowest beginnings ought not to be unattended toby either. I will therefore pursue my excellent author without fartherapology, since you have put his work into my hands. 

The next thing, then, which he prescribes, is _plain diet_. Thisspeaks for itself, for the baby can have no corrupt taste to gratify:all is pure, as out of the hand of Nature; and what is not plain andnatural, must vitiate and offend. 

Then, _no wine_, or _strong drink_. Equally just; and for the samereasons. 

_Little_ or _no physic_. Undoubtedly right. For the _use_ ofphysic, without necessity, or by way of _precaution_, as some callit, begets the _necessity_ of physic; and the very _word_ supposes_distemper_ or _disorder_; and where there is none, would a parentbeget one; or, by frequent use, render the salutary force of medicineineffectual, when it was wanted?

Next, he forbids _too warm_ and _too strait clothing_. This is just asI wish it. How often has my heart ached, when I have seen poor babiesrolled and swathed, ten or a dozen times round; then blanket uponblanket, mantle upon that; its little neck pinned down to one posture;its head, more than it frequently needs, triple-crowned like a youngpope, with covering upon covering; its legs and arms, as if to preventthat kindly stretching, which we rather ought to promote, when it isin health, and which is only aiming at growth and enlargement, theformer bundled up, the latter pinned down; and how the poor thing lieson the nurse's lap, a miserable little pinioned captive, gogglingand staring with its eyes, the only organ it has at liberty, as ifsupplicating for freedom to its fettered limbs! Nor has it any comfortat 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 awakenit for its undesired food, as if resolved to try its constitution, andwilling to see how many difficulties it could overcome. 

Then he advises, that the head and feet should be kept cold; and thelatter often used to cold water, and exposed to wet, in order to laythe foundation, as he says, of an healthy and hardy constitution. 

Now, Sir, what a pleasure it is to your Pamela, that her notions, andher practice too, fall in so exactly with this learned gentleman'sadvice that, excepting one article, which is, that your Billy has notyet been accustomed to be _wet-shod_, every other particular hasbeen observed! And don't you see what a charming, charming baby heis?--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 nurseryimpertinences are these to trouble a man with!"--But with all theirwisdom, 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 thatblessing?) its animal organs will play but poorly in a weak or crazycase. These, therefore, are necessary rules to be observed for thefirst two or three years: for then the little buds of their mindswill begin to open, and their watchful mamma will be employed likea skilful gardener, in assisting and encouraging the charming flowerthrough its several hopeful stages to perfection, when it shall becomeone of the principal ornaments of that delicate garden, your honouredfamily. Pardon me, Sir, if in the above paragraph I am too figurative. I begin to be afraid I am out of my sphere, writing to your dear self, on these important subjects. 

But be that as it may, I will here put an end to this my first letter(on the earliest part of my subject), rejoicing in the opportunityyou have given me of producing a fresh instance of that duty andaffection, wherewith I am, and shall ever be, my dearest Mr. B. , _yourgrateful, happy_, P. B. 

LETTER XCI

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 havean eye yet to their _better_ part, to tell you what are the littlematters to which I am not quite so well reconciled in Mr. Locke: andthis I shall be better enabled to do, by my observations upon thetemper and natural bent of my dear Miss Goodwin, as well as by thosewhich my visits to the bigger children of my little school, and thoseat the cottages adjacent, have enabled me to make; for humannature, Sir, you are not to be told, is human nature, whether in thehigh-born, or in the low. 

This excellent author (Section 52), having justly disallowed ofslavish and corporal punishments in the education of those we wouldhave to be wise, good, and ingenuous men, adds, "On the other side, toflatter children by rewards of things that are pleasant to them, isas carefully to be avoided. He that will give his son apples, orsugar-plums, or what else of this kind he is most delighted with, tomake him learn his book, does but authorize his love of pleasure, andcockers up that dangerous propensity, which he ought, by all means, to subdue and stifle in him. You can never hope to teach him to masterit, whilst you compound for the check you give his inclination in oneplace, by the satisfaction you propose to it in another. To make agood, a wise, and a virtuous man, 'tis fit he should learn to crosshis appetite, and deny his inclination to riches, finery, or pleasinghis palate, &c. "

This, Sir, is well said; but is it not a little too philosophical andabstracted, not only for the generality of children, but for the agehe supposes them to be of, if one may guess by the apples and thesugar-plums proposed for the rewards of their well-doing?--Would notthis require that memory or reflection in children, which, in anotherplace, is called the concomitant of prudence and age, and not ofchildhood?

It is undoubtedly very right, to check an unreasonable appetite, andthat at its first appearance. But if so small and so reasonable aninducement will prevail, surely, Sir, it might be complied with. A generous mind takes delight to win over others by good usage andmildness, rather than by severity; and it must be a great pain tosuch an one, to be always inculcating, on his children or pupils, thedoctrine of self-denial, by methods quite grievous to his own nature. 

What I would then humbly propose, is, that the encouragements offeredto youth, should, indeed, be innocent ones, as the gentleman enjoins, and not such as would lead to luxury, either of food or apparel; butI humbly think it necessary, that rewards, proper rewards, shouldbe proposed as incentives to laudable actions: for is it not by thismethod that the whole world is influenced and governed? Does not Godhimself, by rewards and punishments, make it our interest, as wellas our duty, to obey him? And can we propose ourselves, for thegovernment 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, (Section53) "that I would have children kept from the conveniences orpleasures of life, that are not injurious to their health or virtue. On the contrary, I would have their lives made as pleasant and asagreeable to them as may be, in a plentiful enjoyment of whatsoevermight innocently delight them. "-And yet he immediately subjoins a veryhard and difficult proviso to this indulgence. --"Provided, " says he, "it be with this caution, that they have those enjoyments only as theconsequences of the state of esteem and acceptation they are in withtheir parents and governors. "

I doubt, my dear Mr. B. , this is expecting such a distinction anddiscretion in children, as they seldom have in their tender years, andrequiring capacities not commonly to be met with; so that it is notprescribing to the _generality_, as this excellent author intended. 'Tis, I humbly conceive, next to impossible that their tender mindsshould distinguish beyond facts; they covet this or that play-thing, and the parent, or governor, takes advantage of its desires, andannexes to the indulgence such or such a task or duty, as a condition;and shews himself pleased with its compliance with it: so the childwins its plaything, and receives the commendation so necessary to leadon young minds to laudable pursuits. But shall it not be sufferedto enjoy the innocent reward of its compliance, unless it can givesatisfaction, that its greatest delight is not in having the thingcoveted, but in performing the task, or obeying the injunctionsimposed 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. Aservant, full-grown, would not be able to shew, that, on condition hecomplied with such and such terms (which, it is to be supposed by theoffer, he would not have complied with, but for that inducement), heshould have such and such a reward;

I say, he would hardly be able to shew, that he preferred the pleasureof performing the requisite conditions to the stipulated reward. Noris it necessary he should: for he is not the less a good servant, ora virtuous man, if he own the conditions painful, and the rewardnecessary to his low state in the world, and that otherwise he wouldnot undergo any service at all. --Why then should this be exacted froma child?

Let, therefore, innocent rewards be proposed, and let us be contentedto lead on the ductile minds of children to a love of their duty, byobliging 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 exactingit; for, after all, the inducement will naturally be the uppermostconsideration with the child: not, as I hinted, had it been offered toit, if the parent himself had not thought so. And, therefore, we canonly 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 habitin the child of doing it: and then, as it improves in years, one mayhope, that reason will take place, and enable him, from the most solidand durable motives, to give a preference to the duty. 

Upon the whole, then, can we insist upon it, that the child shouldso nicely distinguish away its little _innate_ passions, as if weexpected it to be born a philosopher? Self-denial is, indeed, a mostexcellent 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 dutytoo rigidly insisted upon, will make it odious. This Mr. Locke, too, observes in another place, on the head of too great severity; which heillustrates by a familiar comparison: "Offensive circumstances, " sayshe, "ordinarily infect innocent things which they are joined with. Andthe very sight of a cup, wherein any one uses to take nauseous physic, turns his stomach; so that nothing will relish well out of it, though the cup be never so clean and well-shaped, and of the richestmaterials. "

Permit me to add, that Mr. Locke writes still more rigorously on thesubject of rewards; which I quote, to shew I have not misunderstoodhim: "But these enjoyments, " says he, "should _never_ be offeredor bestowed on children, as the rewards of this or that particularperformance that they shew an aversion to, or to which they would nothave applied themselves without that temptation. " If, dear Sir, the minds of children can be led on by innocent inducements to theperformance of a duty, of which they are capable, what I have humblyoffered, is enough, I presume, to convince one, that it _may_ be done. But if ever a particular study be proposed to be mastered, or a biasto be overcome (that is not an _indispensable_ requisite to his futurelife of morals) to which the child shews an aversion, I would not, methinks, have him be too much tempted or compelled to conquer orsubdue it, especially if it appear to be a _natural_ or rivettedaversion. For, permit me to observe, that the education and studies ofchildren ought, as much as possible, to be suited to their capacitiesand inclination, and, by these means, we may expect to have always_useful_ and often _great_ men, in different professions; for thatgenius which does not prompt to the prosecution of one study, mayshine in another no less necessary part of science. But, if thepromise of innocent rewards _would_ conquer this aversion, yet theyshould not be applied with this view; for the best consequences thatcan be hoped for, will be tolerable skill in one thing, instead ofmost excellent in another. 

Nevertheless, I must repeat, that if, as the child grows up, and iscapable of so much reason, that, from the love of the _inducement_, one can raise his mind to the love of the _duty_, it should be doneby all means. But, my dear Mr. B. , I am afraid that _that_ parentor tutor will meet with but little success, who, in a child's tenderyears, shall refuse to comply with its foibles, till he sees it valueits duty, and the pleasure of obeying his commands, beyond the littleenjoyment on which his heart is fixed. For, as I humbly conceive, thatmind which can be brought to prefer its duty to its appetites, willwant little of the perfection of the wisest philosophers. 

Besides, Sir, permit to me say, that I am afraid this perpetualopposition between the passions of the child and the duty to beenforced, especially when it sees how other children are indulged (forif this regimen could be observed by _any_, it would be impossible itshould become _general_, while the fond and the inconsiderate parentsare so large a part of mankind), will cow and dispirit a child, andwill, perhaps produce, a necessity of making use of severity, tosubdue him to this temper of self-denial; for if the child refuses, the parent must insist; and what will be the consequence? must it notintroduce a harsher discipline than this gentleman allows of?--andwhich, I presume to say, did never yet do good to any but to slavishand base spirits, if to them; a discipline which Mr. Locke every wherejustly condemns. 

See here, dear Sir, a specimen of the presumption of your girl: "Whatwill she come to in time!" you will perhaps say, "Her next step willbe to arraign myself. " No, no, dear Sir, don't think so: for my duty, my love, and my reverence, shall be your guards, and defend you fromevery thing saucy in me, but the bold approaches of my gratitude, winch shall always testify for me, how much I am _your obliged anddutiful servant_, P. B. 

LETTER XCII

MY DEAREST MR. B. , I will continue my subject, although I have not had an opportunityto know whether you approve of my notions or not by reason of theexcursions you have been pleased to allow me to make in your belovedcompany to the sea-ports of this kingdom, and to the more noted inlandtowns of Essex, Kent, Sussex, Hampshire, and Dorsetshire, which havegiven me infinite delight and pleasure, and enlarged my notions of thewealth and power of the kingdom, in which God's goodness has given youso considerable a stake. 

My next topic will be upon a _home_ education, which Mr. Lockeprefers, for several weighty reasons, to a _school_ one, providedsuch a tutor can be procured, as he makes next to an impossibility toprocure. The gentleman has set forth the inconveniencies of both, andwas himself so discouraged, on a review of them, that he was ready, ashe 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 makesalmost insuperable, to find a qualified tutor. 2ndly, The necessitythere is, according to Mr. Locke, of keeping the youth out of thecompany of the meaner servants, who may set him bad examples. And, 3rdly, Those still greater difficulties which will arise from theexample of his parents, if they are not very discreet and circumspect. 

As to the qualifications of the tutor, Mr. Locke supposes, that he isto 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 metwith for this _humble_ and _slavish_ employment. I presume, Sir, tocall it so, because of the too little regard that is generally paidto these useful men in the families of the great, where they arefrequently put upon a foot with the uppermost servants, and therather, if they happen to be men of modesty. 

"I would, " says he, "from children's first beginning to talk, havesome discreet, sober, nay, _wise_ person about them, whose careit should be to fashion them right, and to keep them from all ill;especially the infection of bad company. I think this provincerequires great sobriety, temperance, tenderness, diligence, anddiscretion; qualities hardly to be found united in persons that are tobe had for ordinary salaries, nor easily to be found any where. "

If this, Sir, be the case, does not this excellent author recommenda scheme that is rendered in a manner impracticable from thisdifficulty?

As to these qualities being more rarely to be met with in persons thatare to be had for _ordinary salaries_, I cannot help being of opinion(although, with Mr. Locke, I think no expence should be spared, ifthat _would_ do) that there is as good a chance for finding a properperson among the needy scholars (if not of a low and sordid turn ofmind) as among the more affluent: because the narrow circumstances ofthe 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 toembrace such an offer in a family which has interest enough to preferhim, and will quicken his diligence to make him _deserve_ preferment;and if such an one wanted any of that requisite politeness, which somewould naturally expect from scholars of better fortune, might not thatbe supplied to the youth by the conversation of parents, relations, and visitors, in conjunction with those other helps which young men offamily and large expectations constantly have, and which few learnedtutors can give him?

I say not this to countenance the wretched niggardliness (whichthis gentleman justly censures) of those who grudge a handsomeconsideration to so necessary and painful a labour as that of a tutor, which, where a deserving man can be met with, cannot be too genteellyrewarded, nor himself too respectfully treated. I only beg to delivermy opinion, that a low condition is as likely as any other, with amind 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 bementioned. 

But Mr. Locke thus proceeds: "To form a young gentleman as he shouldbe, 'tis fit his governor should be well bred, understand the ways ofcarriage, 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 belearnt or taught by books. --Nothing can give it but good company andobservation joined together. "

And in another place says, "Besides being well-bred, the tutor shouldknow the world well; the ways, the humours, the follies, the cheats, the faults of the age he has fallen into, and particularly of thecountry he lives in: these he should be able to shew to his pupil, ashe finds him capable; teach him skill in men and their manners; pulloff the mask which their several callings and pretences cover themwith; and make his pupil discern what lies at the bottom, under suchappearances, that he may not, as unexperienced young men are apt todo, if they are unwarned, take one thing for another, judge by theoutside, and give himself up to show, and the insinuations of a faircarriage, or an obliging application; teach him to guess at, andbeware of, the designs of men he hath to do with, neither with toomuch suspicion, nor too much confidence. "

This, dear Sir, is excellently said: 'tis noble _theory_; and ifthe tutor be a man void of resentment and caprice, and will not begoverned by partial considerations, in his own judgment of persons andthings, all will be well: but if otherwise, may he not take advantageof the confidence placed in him, to the injury of some worthy person, and by degrees monopolize the young gentleman to himself, and governhis passions as absolutely, as I have heard some first ministers havedone 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 outsuch an one, depends his scheme of a home education. No wonder, then, that he himself says, "When I consider the scruples and cautionsI here lay in your way, methinks it looks as if I advised you tosomething which I would have offered at, but in effect not done, "&c. --Permit me, dear Sir, in this place to express my fear that itis hardly possible for any one, with talents inferior to those ofMr. Locke himself, to come up to the rules he has laid down upon thissubject; and 'tis to be questioned, whether even _he_, with all thatvast stock of natural reason and solid sense, for which, as you tellme, Sir, he was so famous, had attained to these perfections, at hisfirst setting out into life. 

Now, therefore, dear Sir, you can't imagine how these difficultiesperplex me, as to my knowing how to judge which is best, a _home_ ora _school_ education. For hear what this excellent author justlyobserves 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, maythere give his son a more genteel carriage, more manly thoughts, anda sense of what is worthy and becoming, with a greater proficiency inlearning, into the bargain, and ripen him up sooner into a man, thanany school can do. Not that I blame the schoolmaster in this, " sayshe, "or think it to be laid to his charge. The difference is greatbetween two or three pupils in the same house, and three or four scoreboys lodged up and down; for, let the master's industry and skill benever so great, it is impossible he should have fifty or an hundredscholars under his eye any longer than they are in the schooltogether. " But then, Sir, if there be such a difficulty as Mr. Lockesays, to meet with a proper tutor for the home education, which hethus prefers, what a perplexing thing is this. But still, according tothis gentleman, another difficulty attends a home education; and thatis, what I hinted at before, in my second article, the necessity ofkeeping the youth out of the company of the meaner servants, whomay set him bad examples. For thus he says, "Here is another greatinconvenience, which children receive from the ill examples which theymeet with from the meaner servants. They are _wholly_, if possible, to be kept from such conversation: for the contagion of these illprecedents, both in civility and virtue, horribly infects children, asoften as they come within the reach of it. They frequently learn fromunbred or debauched servants, such language, untowardly tricks andvices, as otherwise they would be ignorant of all their lives. 'Tis ahard matter wholly to prevent this mischief, " continues he; "you willhave 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 thisletter) makes a still stronger objection, as it may happen, against ahome education; to wit, the example of the parents themselves, if theybe not very circumspect and discreet. 

All these difficulties being put together, let me, dear Sir, humblypropose it, as a matter for your consideration and determination, whether there be not a middle way to be found out in a schooleducation, that may remedy some of these inconveniencies? For supposeyou cannot get a tutor so qualified as Mr. Locke thinks he ought tobe, for your Billy as he grows up. Suppose there is danger from yourmeaner servants; or we his parents should not be able to lay ourselvesunder the requisite restraints, in order to form his mind by ourown examples, which I hope, by God's grace, however, will not be thecase--Cannot some master be found, who shall be so well rewarded forhis care of a _few_ young gentlemen, as to make it worth his while tobe contented with those _few?_--suppose from five to eight at most;whose morals and breeding he may attend to, as well as to theirlearning? The farther this master lives from the young gentleman'sfriends, the better it may be. We will hope, that he is a man of amild disposition, but strict in his discipline, and who shall make ita rule not to give correction for small faults, or till every othermethod has been tried; who carries such a just dignity in his manner, without the appearance of tyranny, that his looks may be of greaterforce than the blows of others; and who will rather endeavour to shamethan terrify, a youth out of his faults. Then, suppose this gentlemanwas to allot a particular portion of time for the _more learned_studies; and before the youth was tired with _them_, suppose anotherportion was allotted for the _writing_ and _arithmetic_; and then torelieve his mind from both, suppose the _dancing-master_ should takehis part; and innocent exercises of mere diversion, to fill up therest, at his own choice, in which, diverted by such a rotationof employments (all thus rendered delightful by their successivevariety), he would hardly wish to pass much time. For the dancing ofitself, with the dancing-master's instruction, if a well-bred man, will answer both parts, that of breeding and that of exercise: andthus different studies at once be mastered. 

Moreover, the emulation which will be inspired, where there areseveral young gentlemen, will be of inconceivable use both to tutorand pupil, in lessening the trouble of the one, and advancing thelearning of the other, which cannot be expected where there is but asingle youth to be taken care of. 

Such a master will know it to be his interest, as well as duty, tohave a watchful eye over the conduct and behaviour of his servants. His assistants, in the different branches of science and education, will be persons of approved prudence, for whom he will think himselfanswerable, since his own _reputation_, as well as _livelihood_, willdepend upon their behaviour. The youths will have young gentlemen fortheir companions, all under the influence of the same precepts anddirections; and if some chosen period were fixed, as a reward for someexcellence, where, at a little desk, raised a step or two above theother seats, the excelling youth should be set to read, under themaster's direction, a little portion from the best translations of theGreek and Roman historians, and even from the best English authors;this might, in a very engaging manner, initiate them into theknowledge of the history of past times, and of their own country, andgive them a curiosity to pass some of their vacant hours in the samelaudable pursuit: for, dear Sir, I must still insist that rewards, andinnocent gratifications, as also little honours and distinctions, mustneeds be very attractive to the minds of youth. 

For, is not the pretty ride, and dairy house breakfasting, by whichMiss Goodwin's governess distinguishes the little ladies who excelin their allotted tasks, a fine encouragement to their ductileminds?--Yes, it is, to be sure!--And I have often thought of it withpleasure, and partaken of the delight with which I have supposed theirpretty hearts must be filled with on that occasion. And why may notsuch little triumphs be, in proportion, as incentives, to children, to make them try to master laudable tasks; as the Roman triumphs, ofdifferent kinds, and their mural and civic crowns, all which I haveheard 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. "

 Permit me. Sir, to transcribe four or five lines more, for the beauty of the thought:

 "And yet the soul, shut up in her dark room, Viewing so clear abroad, at home sees nothing: But like a mole in earth, busy and blind, Works all her folly up, and casts it outward To the world's open view--"

Improving the thought: methinks I can see the dear little Miss, whohas, in some eminent task, borne away the palm, make her public entry, as I may call it, after her dairy breakfast and pretty airing, intothe governess's court-yard, through a row of her school-fellows, drawnout on each side to admire her; her governess and assistants receivingher at the porch, their little capitol, and lifting her out withapplauses and encomiums, with a _Thus shall it be done to the Miss, whom her governess delighteth to honour!_ I see not why the dear Missin this case, as she moves through her admiring school-fellows, maynot have her little heart beat with as much delight, be as gloriouslyelated, proportionably, as that of the greatest hero in his triumphalcar, who has returned from exploits, perhaps, much less laudable. 

But how I ramble!--Yet surely, Sir, you don't expect method orconnection from your girl. The education of our sex will not permitthat, where it is best. We are forced to struggle for knowledge, likethe poor feeble infant in the month, who is pinned and fettered downupon 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 passivebehaviour. So, when a poor girl, in spite of her narrow education, breaks out into notice, her genius is immediately tamed by triflingemployments, lest, perhaps, she should become the envy of one sex, andthe equal of the other. But you. Sir, act more nobly with your Pamela;for you throw in her way all opportunities of improvement; and shehas only to regret, that she cannot make a better use of them, and, ofconsequence, render herself more worthy of your generous indulgence. 

I know not how, Sir, to recover my thread; and so must break off withthat delight which I always take when I come near the bottom of myletters to your dear self; because then I can boast of the honourwhich I have in being _your ever dutiful_, P. B. 

LETTER XCIII

Well, but, my dear Mr. B. , you will perhaps think, from my lastrambling letter, that I am most inclined to a _school_ education foryour Billy, and some years hence, if it should please God to spare himto us. Yet I cannot say that I am; I only lay several things togetherin my usual indigested way, to take your opinion upon, which, as itought, will be always decisive with me. And indeed I am so thoroughlyconvinced by Mr. Locke's reasons, where the behaviour of servantscan be so well answered for, as that of yours can be, and wherethe example of the parents will be, as I hope, rather edifyingthan otherwise, that without being swayed, as I think, by maternalfondness, in this case, I must needs give a preference to the homeeducation; and the little scheme I presumed to form in my last, wasonly on a supposition, that those necessary points could not be sowell secured. 

In my observations on this head, I shall take the liberty, in oneor two particulars, a little to differ from an author, that I admireexceedingly; and that is the present design of my writing theseletters; for I shall hereafter, if God spare my life, in my littlebook (when you have kindly decided upon the points in which I presumeto differ) shew you, Sir, my great reverence and esteem for him; andcan then let you know all my sentiments on this important subject, andthat more undoubtedly, as I shall be more improved by years and yourconversation; especially, Sir, if I have the honour and happiness ofa foreign tour with you, of which you give me hope; so much are youpleased with the delight I take in these improving excursions, whichyou have now favoured me with, at different times, through more thanhalf the kingdom. 

Well then, Sir, I will proceed to consider a little more particularlythe 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 thefirst, that of finding a qualified tutor; we must not expect so muchperfection, I doubt, as he lays down as necessary. What, therefore, Ihumbly conceive is best to be done, will be to avoid choosing a manof bigoted and narrow principles; who yet shall not be tainted withsceptical or heterodox notions, nor a mere scholar or pedant; who hastravelled, and yet preserved his moral character untainted; and whosebehaviour and carriage is easy, unaffected, unformal, and genteel, as well acquiredly as naturally so, if possible; who shall not bedogmatical, positive, overbearing, on one hand; nor too yielding, suppliant, fawning, on the other; who shall study the child's naturalbent, in order to direct his studies to the point he is most likelyto excel in; and to preserve the respect due to his own character fromevery one, he must not be a busy body in the family, a whisperer, a tale-bearer, but of a benevolent turn of mind, ready to composedifferences; who shall avoid, of all things, that foppishness of dressand appearance, which distinguishes the _petit-maitres_, and Frenchushers (that I have seen at some boarding schools), for coxcombsrather than guides of education: for, as I have heard you, my besttutor, often observe, the peculiarities of habit, where a person aimsat something fantastic, or out of character, are an undoubted sign ofa wrong head; for such a one is so kind as always to hang out onhis sign what sort of furniture he has in his shop, to save you thetrouble of asking questions about him; so that one may as easily knowby his outward appearance what he _is_, as one can know a widow by herweeds. 

Such a person as I have thus negatively described, may be foundwithout very much difficulty, perhaps, because some of theserequisites are personal, and others are such as are obvious at firstsight, to a common penetration; or, where not so, may be found out, byinquiry into his general character and behaviour: and to the care ofsuch a one, dear Sir, let me suppose your Billy is committed: and sowe acquit ourselves of the first difficulty, as well as we can, thatof the tutor; who, to become more perfect, may form himself, as towhat he wants, by Mr. Locke's excellent rules on that head. 

But before I quit this subject, I beg to remind you of your opinionupon it, in a conversation with Sir George Stuart, and his nephew, in London; in which you seemed to prefer a Scottish gentleman for atutor, to those of your own nation, and still more than to those ofFrance? Don't you remember it, dear Sir? And how much those gentlemenwere pleased with your facetious freedom with their country, and said, you made them amends for that, in your preference to their learned andtravelled youth? If you have forgot it, I will here transcribe it frommy _records_, as I call my book of memorandums; for every time I ampleased with a conversation, and have leisure, before it quits mymemory, I enter it down in as near the very words as I can; and nowyou have made me your correspondent, I shall sometimes, perhaps, giveyou back some valuables from your own treasure. --Miss Darnford, andMr. Turner, and Mr. Fanshaw, were present, I well remember. These wereyour words:

"Since the union of the two kingdoms, we have many persons ofcondition, who have taken their tutors for their sons from Scotland;which practice, to speak impartially, has been attended with someadvantageous circumstances, that should not be overlooked. For, SirGeorge, it must be confessed that, notwithstanding your narrow andstiff manner of education in Scotland, a spirit of manly learning, akind of poetic liberty, as I may call it, has begun to exert itselfin 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 thekindlier south, has taught them to know a good deal of the worldbetimes. Through the easy terms on which learning is generallyattained there, as it is earlier inculcated, so it may, probably, take deeper root: and since 'tis hardly possible--forgive me, dearSirs--they can go to a worse country on this side Greenland, than someof the northern parts of Scotland; so their education, with a view totravel, and to better themselves by settlements in other countries, may, perhaps, be so many reasons to take greater pains to qualifythemselves for this employment, and may make them succeed better init; especially when they have been able to shake off the fetters whichare rivetted upon them under the narrow influence of a too tyrannicalkirk discipline, which you, Sir George, have just now so freelycensured. 

"To these considerations, when we add the necessity, which theseremote tutors lie under, of behaving well; first, because they seldomwish to return to their own country; and next, because _that_ cannotprefer them, if it would; and thirdly, because it would not, if itcould, if the gentleman be of an enlarged genius, and generous wayof thinking; I say, when we add to the premises these considerations, they all make a kind of security for their good behaviour: while thoseof our own country have often friends or acquaintances on whose favourthey are apt to depend, and for that reason give less attention to theduties requisite for this important office. 

"Besides, as their kind friend Æolus, who is accustomed to spread andstrengthen the bold muscles of the strong-featured Scot, has generallyblown away that inauspicious bashfulness, which hangs a much longertime, commonly, on the faces of the southern students; such a one (ifhe fall not too egregiously into the contrary extreme, so as to becomeinsufferable) may still be the more eligible person for a tutor, as hemay 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 thisemployment, it may be necessary that he should be one who has had asgenteel and free an education himself, as his country will afford;and the native roughness of his climate filed off by travel andconversation; who has made, at least, the tour of France and Italy, and has a taste for the politeness of the former nation: but from theboisterousness of a North Britain, and the fantastic politeness ofa Frenchman, if happily blended, such a mixture may result, as willfurnish out a more complete tutor, than either of the two nations, singly, may be able to produce. But it ought to be remembered thatthis person must have conquered his native brogue, as I may callit, and be a master of the English pronunciation; otherwise hisconversation will be disagreeable to an English ear. 

"And permit me to add, that, as an acquaintance with the Musescontributes not a little to soften the manners, and give a gracefuland delicate turn to the imagination, and a kind of polish to severerstudies, it would not be amiss that he should have a taste ofpoetry, although perhaps it were not to be wished he had such stronginclinations that way, as to make that lively and delectable amusementhis predominant passion: for we see very few poets, whose warmimaginations do not run away with their judgments. And yet, in orderto learn the dead languages in their purity, it will be necessaryto inculcate both the love and the study of the ancient poets, whichcannot fail of giving the youth a taste for poetry, in general. "

Permit me, dear Sir, to ask you, whether you advanced this forargument sake, as sometimes you love to amuse and entertain yourfriends in an uncommon way? For I should imagine, that our twouniversities, which you have shewn me, and for which I have ever sincehad a greater reverence than I had before, are capable of furnishingas good tutors as any nation in the world: for here the younggentlemen seem to me to live both in the _world_ and in the_university_; and we saw several gentlemen who had not only fineparts, but polite behaviour, and deep learning, as you assured me;some of whom you entertained, and were entertained by, in so eleganta manner, that no travelled gentleman, if I may be allowed to judge, could excel them! And besides, my dear Mr. B. , I know who is reckonedone of the politest and best-bred gentlemen in England by every body, and learned as well as polite, and yet had his education in one ofthose celebrated seats of learning. I wish your Billy may never fallshort of the gentleman I mean, in all these acquirements; and he willbe a very happy creature, I am sure. 

But how I wander again from my subject. I have no other way to recovermyself, when I thus ramble, but by returning to that one delightfulpoint of reflection, that I have the honour to be, dearest Sir, _yourever dutiful and obliged_, P. B. 

LETTER XCIV

DEAREST SIR, 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. Lockesays, That children are wholly, if possible, to be kept from theconversation of the meaner servants; whom he supposes to be, as toofrequently they are, _unbred_ and _debauched_, to use his own words. 

Now, Sir, I think it is very difficult to keep children fromthe conversation of servants at all times. The care of personalattendance, especially in the child's early age, must fall uponservants of one denomination or other, who, little or much, must beconversant with the inferior servants, and so be liable to be taintedby their conversation; and it will be difficult in this case toprevent the taint being communicated to the child. Wherefore it willbe a _surer_, as well as a more _laudable_ method, to insist upon theregular behaviour of the whole family, than to expect the child, andits immediate attendant or tutor, should be the only good ones in it. 

Nor is this so difficult to effect, as may be imagined. Your familyaffords an eminent instance of it: the good have been confirmed, theremiss have been reformed, the passionate have been tamed; and thereis not a family in the kingdom, I will venture to say, to the honourof every individual in it, more uniform, more regular, and freer fromevil, and more regardful of what they say and do, than yours. And youwill allow, that though always honest, yet they were not always solaudable, so exemplarily virtuous, as of late: which I mention only toshew the practicableness of a reformation, even where bad habits havetaken place--For your Pamela, Sir, arrogates not to herself the honourof this change: 'tis owing to the Divine grace shining upon heartsnaturally good; for else an example so easy, so plain, so simple, from so young a mistress, who moreover had been exalted from their ownstation, could not have been attended with such happy effects. 

You see, dear Sir, what a master and mistress's example could do, witha poor soul so far gone as Mrs. Jewkes. And I dare be confident, thatif, on the hiring of a new servant, sobriety of manners and a virtuousconversation were insisted upon, and a general inoffensiveness inwords as well as actions was required from them, as indispensableconditions of their service: and that a breach of that kind would beno more passed over, than a wilful fraud, or an act of dishonesty; andif, added to these requisites, their principals take care to supportthese injunctions by their own example; I say, then, I dare beconfident, 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 havethe strong ties of _interest_ superadded to the obligations we requireof them? and which, they must needs know (let 'em have what bad habitsthey 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 toinferiors. It is too justly said, that the courts of princes aboundwith the most profligate of men, insomuch that a man cannot well havea more significantly bad title, than that of COURTIER: yet even amongthese, one shall see the force of _example_, as I have heard you, Sir, frequently observe: for, let but the land be blest with a pious andreligious prince, who makes it a rule with him to countenance andpromote men of virtue and probity; and to put the case still stronger, let such a one even succeed to the most libertine reign, wherein themanners of the people are wholly depraved: yet a wonderful change willbe immediately effected. The flagitious livers will be chased away, orreformed; or at least will think it their duty, or their _interest_, which is a stronger tie with such, to _appear_ reformed; and not a manwill seek for the favour or countenance of his prince, but by laudablepretences, or by worthy actions. 

In the reign of King Richard III, as I have read, deformity of bodywas the fashion, and the nobility and gentry of the court thought itan indispensable requisite of a graceful form to pad for themselves around shoulder, because the king was crooked. And can we think humannature so absurdly wicked, that it would not much rather have triedto imitate a personal perfection, than a deformity so shocking in itsappearance, in people who were naturally straight?

'Tis melancholy to reflect, that of all professions of men, themariners, who most behold the wonders of Almighty power displayed inthe great deep (a sight that has struck me with awe and reverence onlyfrom a coast prospect), and who every moment, while at sea, have butone frail plank betwixt themselves and inevitable destruction, areyet, generally speaking, said to be the most abandoned invokers andblasphemers of the name of that God, whose mercies they every momentunthankfully, although so visibly, experience. Yet, as I once heard atyour table, Sir, on a particular occasion, we have now a commanderin the British navy, who, to his honour, has shewn the force of anexcellent example supporting the best precepts: for, on board of hisship, not an oath or curse was to be heard; while volleys ofboth (issued from impious mouths in the same squadron, out of hisknowledge) seemed to fill the sails of other ships with guilty breath, calling aloud for that perdition to overtake them, which perhaps hisworthy injunctions and example, in his own, might be of weight tosuspend. 

If such then, dear Sir, be the force of a good example, what haveparents 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 regardto _their_ conduct! This will not want its due influence on theservants; especially if a proper enquiry be first made into theircharacters, and a watchful eye had over them, to keep them up to thosecharacters afterwards. And when they know they must forfeit the favourof a worthy master, and their places too (which may be thought tobe the best of places, because an _uniform_ character must make allaround it easy and happy), they will readily observe such rules anddirections, as shall be prescribed to them--Rules and directions, which their own consciences will tell them are _right_ to beprescribed; and even right for them to follow, were they not insistedupon by their superiors: and this conviction must go a great waytowards their _thorough_ reformation: for a person wholly convinced ishalf reformed. And thus the hazard a child will run of being corruptedby conversing with the servants, will be removed, and all Mr. Locke'sother rules be better enforced. 

I have the boldness, Sir, to make another objection; and that is, tothe distance which Mr. Locke prescribes to be kept between childrenand servants: for may not this be a means to fill the minds of theformer with a contempt of those below them, and an arrogance that isnot warranted by any rank or condition, to their inferiors of the samespecies?

I have before transcribed what Mr. Locke has enjoined in relation tothis distance, where he says, that the children are by all means tobe kept _wholly_ from the conversation of the meaner servants. Buthow much better advice does the same author give for the behaviour ofchildren to servants in the following words which, I humbly think, arenot so entirely consistent with the former, as might be expected fromso admirable an author. 

"Another way, " says he (Section 111), "to instil sentiments ofhumanity, and to keep them lively in young folks, will be, to accustomthem to civility in their language and deportment towards theirinferiors, and meaner sort of people, particularly servants. It isnot unusual to observe the children in gentlemen's families treat theservants of the house with domineering words, names of contempt, andan imperious carriage, as if they were of another race, or speciesbeneath them. Whether ill example, the advantage of fortune or theirnatural vanity, inspire this haughtiness, it should be prevented orweeded out; and a gentle, courteous, affable carriage towardsthe lower ranks of men placed in the room of it. No part of theirsuperiority will be hereby lost, but the distinction increased, andtheir authority strengthened, when love in inferiors is joined tooutward respect, and the esteem of the person has a share in theirsubmission: and domestics will pay a more ready and cheerful service, when they find themselves not spurned, because fortune has laid thembelow the level of others at their master's feet. "

These, dear Sir, are certainly the sentiments of a generous andenlarged spirit: but I hope, I may observe, that the great distanceMr. Locke before enjoins to be kept between children and servants, isnot very consistent with the above-cited paragraph: for if we wouldprevent this undue contempt of inferiors in the temper of children, the best way, as I humbly presume to think, is not to make it sounpardonable a fault for them, especially in their early years, tobe in their company. For can one make the children shun theservants without rendering them odious or contemptible to them, andrepresenting them to the child in such disadvantageous light, as mustneeds make the servants vile in their eyes, and themselves loftyand exalted in their own? and thereby cause them to treat them with"domineering words, and an imperious carriage, as if they were ofanother race or species beneath them; and so, " as Mr. Locke says, "nurse up their natural pride into an habitual contempt of thosebeneath them; and then, " as he adds, "where will that probably end, but in oppression and cruelty?" But this matter, dear Sir, I presumeto think, will all be happily accommodated and reconciled, when theservants' good behaviour is secured by the example and injunctions ofthe principals. 

Upon the whole, then, of what Mr. Locke has enjoined, and what I havetaken the liberty to suggest on this head, it shall be my endeavour, in that early part of your dear Billy's education, which you willintrust to me, to inculcate betimes in his mind the principles ofuniversal benevolence and kindness to others, especially to inferiors. 

Nor shall I fear, that the little dear will be wanting to himselfin assuming, as he grows up, an air of superiority and distance ofbehaviour equal to his condition, or that he will descend too low forhis station. For, Sir, there is a pride and self-love natural to humanminds, that will seldom be kept so low, as to make them humbler thanthey ought to be. 

I have observed, before now, instances of this, in some of thefamilies we visit, between the young Masters or Misses, and thosechildren of lower degree, who have been brought to play with them, ordivert them. On the Masters' and Misses' side I have always seen, theylead the play and prescribe the laws of it, be the diversion what itwill; while, on the other hand, their lower-rank play-fellows havegenerally given into their little humours, though ever so contrary totheir own; and the difference of dress and appearance, and thenotion they have of the more eminent condition of their play-fellows'parents, have begot in them a kind of awe and respect, that perhapsmore than sufficiently secures the superiority of the one, and thesubordination of the other. 

The advantage of this universal benevolence to a young gentleman, ashe grows up, will be, as I humbly conceive, so to diffuse itself overhis mind, as to influence all his actions, and give a grace to everything he does or says, and make him admired and respected from thebest and most durable motives; and will be of greater advantage to himfor his attaining a handsome address and behaviour (for it will makehim conscious that he _merits_ the distinction he will meet with, andencourage him still _more_ to merit it), than the best rules that canbe 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 instructhim in only one piece of pride, that of being above doing a mean orlow action. I will caution him not to behave in a lordly or insolentmanner, even to the lowest servants. I will tell him that thatsuperiority is the most commendable, and will be the best maintained, which is owing to humanity and kindness, and grounded on theperfections of the _mind_, rather than on the _accidental_ advantageof _fortune_ and _condition_: that if his conduct be such as it oughtto be, there will be no occasion to tell a servant, that he willbe observed and respected: that _humility_, as I once told my MissGoodwin, is a charming grace, and most conspicuously charming inpersons of distinction; for that the poor, who are humbled by theircondition, cannot glory in it, as the rich may; and that it makesthe lower ranks of people love and admire the high-born, who can socondescend: whereas _pride_, in such, is meanness and insult, as itowes its boast and its being to accidental advantages; which, at thesame time, are seldom of _his_ procuring, who can be so mean as to beproud: that even I would sooner forget pride in a low degree than ina high; for it may be a security in the first against doing a basething: but in the rich, it is a base thing itself, and an impoliticone too; for the more distinction a proud mind grasps at, the less itwill have; and every poor despised person can whisper such a one inthe ear, when surrounded with, and adorned by, all his glitteringsplendours, that he _was_ born, and _must_ die, in the _same manner_with those whom he despises. 

Thus will the doctrine of benevolence and affability, implanted earlyin the mind of a young gentleman, and duly cultivated as he growsup, inspire him with the requisite conduct to command respect from_proper_ motives; and while it will make the servants observe adecorum towards him, it will oblige them to have a guard upon theirwords and actions in presence of one, whose manner of education andtraining-up would be so great a reproach to them, if they were grosslyfaulty: so thus, I conceive, a mutual benefit will flow to the mannersof each; and _his_ good behaviour will render him, in some measure, aninstructive monitor to the whole family. 

But permit me, Sir, to enlarge on the hint I have already given, inrelation to the example of parents, in case a preference be givento the home education. For if this point cannot be secured, I shouldalways imagine it were best to put the child to such a school, as Iformerly mentioned. But yet the subject might be spared by me in thiscase, as I write with a view only to your family; though you willremember, that while I follow Mr. Locke, whose work is public, I mustbe considered as directing myself to the generality of the world: for, Sir, I have the pleasure to say, that your conduct in your family isunexceptionable; and the pride to think that mine is no disgrace toit. No one hears a word from your mouth unbecoming the character of apolite gentleman; and I shall always be very regardful of what fallsfrom mine. Your temper, Sir, is equal and kind to all your servants, and they love you, as well as awfully respect you: and well does yourbeautiful and considerate mind, deserve it of them all: and they, seeing I am watchful over my own conduct, so as not to behave unworthyof your kind example, regard me as much as I could wish they should;for well do they know, that their beloved master will have it so, andgreatly honours and esteems me himself. Your table-talk is suchas persons of the strictest principles may hear, and join in: yourguests, and your friends are, generally speaking, persons of thegenteelest life, and of the best manners. So that Mr. Locke would haveadvised _you_, of all gentlemen, had he been living, and known you, to give your children a home education, and assign these, and stillstronger reasons for it. 

But were we to speak to the generality of parents, I fear this wouldbe an almost insuperable objection to a home education. For (I amsorry to say it) when one turns one's eyes to the bad precedents givenby the heads of some families, it is hardly to be wondered at, thatthere is so little virtue and religion among men. For can thoseparents be surprised at the ungraciousness of their _children_, who hardly ever shew them, that their _own_ actions are governedby reasonable or moral motives? Can the gluttonous father expect aself-denying son? With how ill a grace must a man who will often bedisguised in liquor, preach sobriety? a passionate man, patience?an irreligious man, piety? How will a parent, whose hands are seldomwithout cards, or dice in them, be observed in lessons against thepernicious vice of gaming? Can the profuse father, who is squanderingaway the fortunes of his children, expect to be regarded in a lessonof frugality? 'Tis impossible he should, except it were that theyouth, seeing how pernicious his father's example is, should have thegrace to make a proper use of it, and look upon it as a sea-mark, asit were, to enable him to shun the dangerous rocks, on which hesees his father splitting. And even in this _best_ case, let it beconsidered, how much shame and disgrace his thoughtless parent oughtto 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, thathis guilt is not _doubled_, by his son's treading in his steps! Letsuch an unhappy parent duly weigh this, and think how likely he is tobe, by his bad example, the cause of his child's perdition, as well ashis own, and stand unshocked and unamended, if he can!

It is then of no avail to wish for discreet servants, if the conductof the parents is faulty. If the fountain-head be polluted, how shallthe under-currents run clear? That master and mistress, who wouldexact from their servants a behaviour which they themselves don'tpractice, will be but ill observed. And that child, who discoversexcesses and errors in his parents, will be found to be less profitedby their good precepts, than prejudiced by bad examples. Excessivefondness this hour; violent passions and perhaps execrations, thenext; unguarded jests, and admiration of fashionable vanities, rashcensures, are perhaps the best, that the child sees in, or hears fromthose, who are most concerned to inculcate good precepts into hismind. And where it is so, a home education must not surely be chosen. 

Having thus, as well as my slender abilities will permit, presumed todeliver my opinion upon three great points, _viz_. The qualificationsof 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 givea preference, as I imagine, to a home education); permit me, dearSir, to speak a little further to a point, that I have already touchedupon. 

It is that of _emulation_; which I humbly conceive to be of greatefficacy to lead children on in their duties and studies. And how, dear Sir, shall this advantage be procured for a young master, who hasno school-fellows and who has no example to follow, but that ofhis tutor, whom he cannot, from the disparity of years, and othercircumstances, without pain (because of this disparity), think ofemulating? And this, I conceive, is a very great advantage to such aschool education, as I mentioned in my former letter, where there areno more scholars taken in, than the master can with ease and pleasureinstruct. 

But one way, in my humble opinion, is left to answer this objection, and still preserve the reason for the preference which Mr. Locke givesto a home education; and that is, what I formerly hinted, to takeinto your family the child of some honest neighbour of but middlingcircumstances, and like age of your own, but who should give apparentindications of his natural promptitude, ingenuous temper, obligingbehaviour and good manners; and to let him go hand-in-hand with yoursin his several studies and lessons under the same tutor. 

The child would be sensible of the benefit, as well as of thedistinction, he received, and consequently of what was expected fromhim, 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 itwould greatly compensate the tutor for his pains with the additionalscholar; for the young gentleman would be ashamed to be outdone by oneof like years and stature with himself. And little rewards mightbe proposed to the greatest proficient, in order to heighten theemulation. 

Then, Sir, the _generosity_ of such a method, to a gentleman of yourfortune, and beneficent mind, would be its own reward, were there noother benefit to be received from it. 

Moreover, such an ingenious youth might, by his good morals andindustry, hereafter be of service, in some place of trust in thefamily; or it would be easy for a gentleman of your interest in theworld, if such a thing offered not, to provide for the youth in thenavy, in some of the public offices, or among your private friends. If he proved faulty in his morals, his dismission would be in your ownpower, and would be punishment enough. 

But, if on the other hand, he proved a sober and hopeful youth, hewould make an excellent companion for your Billy in riper years; ashe would be, in a manner, a corroborator of his morals; for, as hiscircumstances would not support him in any extravagance, so they wouldbe a check upon his inclination; and this being seconded by the hopesof future preferment from your favour and interest, which he could notexpect but upon the terms of his perseverance in virtue, he would findhimself under a necessity of setting such an example, as might be ofgreat 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 intoextravagance. And to this end, as I humbly conceive, the nobledoctrine of _independence_ should be early instilled into both theirminds, and upon all occasions, inculcated and inforced; which would bean inducement for the one to endeavour to _improve_ his fortune by hishonest industry, lest he never be enabled to rise out of a state ofdependence; and to the other, to _keep, _ if not to _improve, _ hisown, lest he ever fall into such a servile state, and thereby lose theglorious power of conferring happiness on the deserving, one of thehighest 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 happysuccession of years, is the prayer of one, the most obliged of allothers in her own person, as well as in the persons of her dearestrelations, and who owes to this glorious beneficence the honour sheboasts, of being _your ever affectionate and grateful_ P. B. 

LETTER XCV

But now, my dear Mr. B. , if you will indulge me in a letter or twomore, preparative to my little book, I will take the liberty to touchupon one or two other places, wherein I differ from this learnedgentleman. But first, permit me to observe, that if parents are, aboveall things, to avoid giving bad examples to their children, theywill be no less careful to shun the practice of such fond fathers andmothers, as are wont to indulge their children in bad habits, and givethem their head, at a time when, like wax, their tender minds maybe moulded into what shape they please. This is a point that, if itplease God, I will carefully attend to, because it is the foundationon which the superstructure of the whole future man is to be 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 theyare suffered to become habitual to him, it cannot but be expected, that they will grow up with him, and that they will hardly ever beeradicated. "Try it, " says Mr. Locke, speaking to this very point, "ina dog, or a horse, or any other creature, and see whether the ill andresty tricks they have learned when young, are easily to be mended, when they are knit; and yet none of these creatures are half so wilfuland 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, Ihave a little objection to what Mr. Locke advances. 

But permit me, however, to premise, that I am exceedingly pleased withthe method laid down by this excellent writer, rather to shame thechild out of his fault, than beat him; which latter serves generallyfor 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 onlycauses for which the child should be punished with stripes: andI admire the reasons he gives against a too rigorous and severetreatment of children. 

But I will give Mr. Locke's words, to which I have some objection. 

"It may be doubted, " says he, "concerning whipping, when, as the_last_ remedy, it comes to be necessary, at _what time_, and by whom, it should be done; whether presently, upon the committing thefault, whilst it is yet fresh and hot. I think it should not be donepresently, " adds he, "lest passion mingle with it; and so, though itexceed the just proportion, yet it lose of its due weight. For evenchildren 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 shallchastise their children, to conquer what would be extreme in _theirown_ passion on this occasion (for those who cannot do it, are veryunfit to be the punishers of the wayward passions of their children), than to _defer_ the punishment, especially if the child knows itsfault has reached its parent's ear. It is otherwise, methinks, givingthe child, if of an obstinate disposition, so much more time to hardenits mind, and bid defiance to its punishment. 

Just now, dear Sir, your Billy is brought into my presence, allsmiling, crowing to come to me, and full of heart-cheering promises;and the subject I am upon goes to my heart. Surely I can never beatyour Billy!--Dear little life of my life! how can I think thou canstever deserve it, or that I can ever inflict it?--No, my baby, thatshall be thy papa's task, if ever thou art so heinously naughty; andwhatever _he_ does, must be right. Pardon my foolish fondness, dearSir!--I will proceed. 

If, then, the fault be so atrocious as to deserve whipping, and theparent be resolved on this exemplary punishment, the child ought not, as I imagine, to come into one's presence without meeting with it:or else, a fondness too natural to be resisted, will probably get theupper hand of one's resentment, and how shall one be able to whip thedear creature one had ceased to be angry with? Then after he has onceseen one without meeting his punishment, will he not be inclined tohope for connivance at his fault, unless it should be repeated? Andmay he not be apt (for children's resentments are strong) to imputeto cruelty a correction (when he thought the fault had been forgotten)that should always appear to be inflicted with reluctance, and throughmotives 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!--Howbarbarously, methinks, I speak!--He ought to _feel_ the lash, first, because he _deserves_ it, poor little soul? Next, because it is_proposed_ to be exemplary. And, lastly, because it is not intended tobe _often_ used: and the very passion or displeasure one expresses (ifit be not enormous) will shew one is in earnest, and create in him anecessary awe, and fear to offend again. The _end_ of the correctionis to shew him the difference between right and wrong. And as itis proper to take him at his first offer of a full submission andrepentance (and not before), and instantly dispassionate one's self, and shew him the difference by acts of pardon and kindness (whichwill let him see that one punishes him out of necessity rather thanchoice), so one would not be afraid to make him smart so sufficiently, that he should not soon forget the severity of the discipline, northe 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 tothink, is right. 

As to the _act_ itself, I much approve Mr. Locke's advice, to do itby pauses, mingling stripes and expostulations together, to shame andterrify the more; and the rather, as the parent, by this slow mannerof inflicting the punishment, will less need to be afraid of givingtoo violent a correction; for those pauses will afford _him_, as wellas 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 beobjected to. 

"If you have a discreet servant, " says he, "capable of it, and has theplace of governing your child (for if you have a tutor, there is nodoubt), I think it is best the smart should come immediately fromanother's hand, though by the parent's order, who should see it done, whereby the parent's authority will be preserved, and the child'saversion for the pain it suffers, rather be turned on the person thatimmediately inflicts it. For I would have a father seldom strike achild, but upon very urgent necessity, and as the last remedy. "

'Tis in such an urgent case that we are supposing that it should bedone at all. If there be not a reason strong enough for the father'swhipping the child himself, there cannot be one for his orderinganother to do it, and standing by to see it done. But I humbly think, that if there be a necessity, no one can be so fit as the fatherhimself to do it. The child cannot dispute his authority to punish, from whom he receives and expects all the good things of his life: hecannot question _his_ love to him, and after the smart is over, andhis obedience secured, must believe that so tender, so indulgent afather could have no other end in whipping him, but his good. Against_him_, he knows he has no remedy, but must passively submit; and whenhe is convinced he _must_, he will in time conclude that he _ought_. 

But to have this severe office performed by a servant, though at thefather's command, and that professedly, that the aversion of the childfor the pain it suffers should be turned on the person who immediatelyinflicts it, is, I humbly think, the _reverse_ of what ought to bedone. And _more_ so, if this servant has any direction of the child'seducation; 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 bedone by him. 

For, dear Sir, is there no doubt, that the tutor should lay himselfopen to the aversion of the child, whose manners he is to form? Is notthe best method a tutor can take, in order to enforce the lessons hewould inculcate, to try to attract the love and attention of his pupilby 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 anharsh and disgraceful thing, and that in the last resort, when allother methods are found ineffectual; and that too, because he ought toincur 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 be_otherwise_. 

It should, methinks, be enough for a tutor, in case of a fault in thechild, to threaten to complain to his father; but yet not to makesuch a complaint, without the child obstinately persists in his error, which, too, should be of a nature to merit such an appeal: and thismight highly contribute to preserve the parent's authority; who, onthis occasion, should never fail of extorting a promise of amendment, or of instantly punishing him with his own hands. And, to soften thedistaste he might conceive in resentment of too rigid complainings, itmight not be amiss, that his interposition in the child's favour, werethe fault not too flagrant, should be permitted to save him once ortwice from the impending discipline. 

'Tis certain that the passions, if I may so call them, of affectionand aversion, are very early discoverable in children; insomuchthat they will, even before they can speak, afford us marks for thedetection of an hypocritical appearance of love to it before theparents' faces. For the fondness or averseness of the child to someservants, will at any time let one know, whether their love to thebaby is uniform and the same, when one is absent, as present. In onecase the child will reject with sullenness all the little sycophanciesmade to it in one's sight; while on the other, its fondness of theperson, who generally obliges it, is an infallible rule to judge ofsuch an one's sincerity behind one's back. This little observationshews the strength of a child's resentments, and its sagacity, at theearliest age, in discovering who obliges, and who disobliges it: andhence one may infer, how improper a person _he_ is, whom we would havea child to love and respect, or by whose precepts we would have itdirected, to be the punisher of its faults, or to do any harsh ordisagreeable office to it. 

For my own part, I beg to declare, that if the parent were not toinflict the punishment himself, I think it much better it should begiven him, in the parent's presence, by the servant of the lowestconsideration in the family, and whose manners and example one wouldbe the least willing of any other he should follow. Just as the commonexecutioner, who is the lowest and most flagitious officer of thecommonwealth, 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 deterothers from the commission of heinous crimes. The Almighty took thismethod when he was disposed to correct severely his chosen people;for, in that case, he generally did it by the hands of the mostprofligate nations around them, as we read in many places of the OldTestament. 

But the following rule I admire in Mr. Locke: "When, " says he (for anymisdemeanour), "the father or mother looks sour on the child, everyone else should put on the same coldness to him, and nobody give himcountenance till forgiveness is asked, and a reformation of his faulthas set him right again, and restored him to his former credit. Ifthis were constantly observed, " adds he, "I guess there would belittle need of blows or chiding: their own ease or satisfaction wouldquickly teach children to court commendation, and avoid doing thatwhich they found every body condemned, and they were sure to sufferfor, without being chid or beaten. This would teach them modesty andshame, and they would quickly come to have a natural abhorrence forthat which they found made them slighted and neglected by every body. "

This affords me a pretty hint; for if ever your charming Billy shallbe naughty, I will proclaim throughout your worthy family, that thelittle dear is in disgrace! And one shall shun him, another declineanswering him, a third say, "No, master, I cannot obey you, till yourmamma is pleased with you"; a fourth, "Who shall mind what littlemasters bid them do, when they won't mind what their mammas say tothem?" And when the dear little soul finds this, he will come in myway, (and I see, pardon me, my dear Mr. B. , he has some of his papa'sspirit, already, indeed he has!) and I will direct myself with doublekindness to your beloved Davers, and to my Miss Goodwin, and notnotice the dear creature, if I can help it, till I can see his _papa_(forgive my boldness) banished from his little sullen brow, and allhis _mamma_ rise to his eyes. And when his musical tongue shall beunlocked to own his fault, and promise amendment--O then! how shall Iclasp him to my bosom! and tears of joy, I know, will meet his tearsof penitence!

How these flights, dear Sir, please a body!-What delights have thosemammas (which some fashionable dear ladies are quite unacquaintedwith) who can make their babies, and their first educations, theirentertainment and diversion! To watch the dawnings of reason in them, to direct their little passions, as they shew themselves, to thisor that particular point of benefit or use; and to prepare the sweetvirgin soil of their minds to receive the seeds of virtue and goodnessso early, that, as they grow up, one need only now a little pruning, and now a little water, to make them the ornaments and delights ofthe garden of this life! And then their pretty ways, their fondand grateful endearments, some new beauty every day rising toobservation--O my dearest Mr. B. , whose enjoyments and pleasures areso great, as those of such mothers as can bend their minds two orthree hours every day to the duties of the nursery?

I have a few other things to observe upon Mr. Locke's treatise, which, when I have done, I shall read, admire, and improve by the rest, as myyears and experience 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 needsbe. 

But these shall be the subjects of another letter; for now I am cometo the pride and the pleasure I always have, when I subscribe myself, dearest Sir, _your ever dutiful and grateful_

P. B. 

LETTER XCVI

DEAR SIR, Mr. Locke gives a great many very pretty instructions relating to theplay-games of children: but I humbly presume to object to what he saysin one or two places. 

He would not indulge them in any playthings, but what they makethemselves, or endeavour to make. "A smooth pebble, a piece of paper, the mother's bunch of keys, or any thing they cannot hurt themselveswith, " he rightly says, "serve as much to divert little children, as those more chargeable and curious toys from the shops, which arepresently put out of order, and broken. "

These playthings may certainly do for little ones: but methinks, to aperson of easy circumstances, since the making these toys employsthe industrious poor, the buying them for the child might be compliedwith, though they _were_ easily broken; and especially as they are ofall prices, and some less costly, and more durable than others. 

"Tops, gigs, battledores, " Mr. Locke observes, "which are to be usedwith labour, should indeed be procured them--not for variety, butexercise; but if they had a top, the scourge-stick and leather strapshould be left to their own making and fitting. "

But I may presume to say, that whatever be the good Mr. Locke proposesby this, it cannot be equal to the mischief children may do themselvesin making these playthings! For must they not have implements to workwith? and is not a knife, or other edged tool, without which it isimpossible they can make or shape a scourge-stick, or _any_ of theirplaythings, a fine instrument in a child's hands! This advice isthe reverse of the caution warranted from all antiquity, _That it isdangerous to meddle with edged tools!_ and I am afraid, the tutor mustoften act the surgeon, and follow the indulgence with a styptic andplaister; and the young gentleman's hands might be so often bound upas to be one way to cure him of his earnest desire to play; but Ican hardly imagine any other good that it can do him; for I doubt theexcellent consequences proposed by our author from this doctrine, such as to teach the child moderation in his desires, application, industry, thought, contrivance, and good husbandry, qualities that, ashe says, will be useful to him when he is a man, are too remote to beingrafted upon such beginnings; although it must be confessed, that, as Mr. Locke wisely observes, good habits and industry cannot be tooearly inculcated. 

But then, Sir, may I ask, Are not the very plays and sports, to whichchildren accustom themselves, whether they make their own playthingsor not, equivalent to the work or labour of grown persons! Yes, Sir, I will venture to say, they are, and more than equivalent to theexercises and labour of many. 

Mr. Locke advises, that the child's playthings should be as few aspossible, which I entirely approve: that they should be in his tutor'spower, who is to give him but one at once. But since it is the natureof the human mind to court most what is prohibited, and to set lightby what is in its own power; I am half doubtful (only that Mr. Lockesays it, and it may not be so very important as other points, in whichI have ventured to differ from that gentleman), whether the child'sabsolute possession of his own playthings in some little repository, of which he may be permitted to keep the key, especially if he makesno bad use of the privilege, would not make him more indifferent tothem: while the contrary conduct might possibly enhance his value ofthem. And if, when he had done with any plaything, he were obliged toput it into its allotted place, and were accustomed to keep account ofthe number and places of them severally; this would teach him order, and at the same time instruct him to keep a proper account of them, and to avoid being a squanderer or waster: and if he should omit toput his playthings in their places, or be careless of them, the takingthem away for a time, or threatening to give them to others, wouldmake him the more heedful. 

Mr. Locke says, that he has known a child so distracted with thenumber and variety of his playthings, that he tired his maid every dayto look them over: and was so accustomed to abundance, that he neverthought he had enough, but was always asking, "What more? What newthing shall I have?"--"A good introduction, " adds he, ironically, "tomoderate desires, and the ready way to make a contented happy man. "

All that I shall offer to this, is, that few _men_ are sophilosophical as one would wish them to be, much less _children_. But, no doubt, this variety engaged the child's activity; which, of the twomight be turned to better purposes than sloth or indolence; and if themaid was tired, it might be, because she was not so much _alive_ asthe child; and perhaps this part of the grievance might not be sogreat, because if she was his attendant, 'tis probable she had nothingelse to do. 

However, in the main, as Mr. Locke says, it is no matter how fewplaythings the child is indulged with; but yet I can hardly persuademyself, that plenty of them can have such bad consequences as heapprehends; and the rather, because they will excite his attention, and promote his industry and activity. His enquiry after new things, let him have few or many, is to be expected as a consequence tothose natural desires which are implanted in him, and will every dayincrease: but this may be observed, that as he grows in years, he willbe above some playthings, and so the number of the old ones will bealways reducible, perhaps in a greater proportion, than the new oneswill increase. 

On the head of good-breeding, he observes, that, "there are two sortsof ill-breeding; the one a sheepish bashfulness, and the other amisbecoming negligence and disrespect in our carriage; both which, "says he, "are avoided by duly observing this one rule, not to thinkmeanly of ourselves, and not to think meanly of others. " I think, asMr. Locke explains this rule, it is an excellent one. But I would begto observe upon it, that however discommendable a bashful temper is, in some instances, where it must be deemed a weakness of the mind, yet, in my humble opinion, it is generally the mark of an ingenuousone, and is always to be preferred to an undistinguishing and hardyconfidence, which, as it seems to me, is the genuine production ofinvincible ignorance. 

What is faulty in it, which he calls _sheepishness_, should indeed beshaken off as soon as possible, because it is an enemy to merit in itsadvancement in the world: but, Sir, were I to choose a companion foryour Billy, as he grows up, I should not think the worse of the youth, who, not having had the opportunities of knowing men, or seeing theworld, had this defect. On the contrary, I should be apt to look uponit as an outward fence or inclosure to his virtue, which might keepoff the lighter attacks of immorality, the _Hussars_ of vice, as I maysay, who are not able to carry on a formal siege against his morals;and I should expect such a one to be docile, humane, good-humoured, diffident of himself, and therefore most likely to improve as well inmind as behaviour: while a hardened mind, that never doubts itself, must be a stranger to its own infirmities, and suspecting none, isimpetuous, over-bearing, incorrigible; and, if rich, a tyrant; if not, possibly an invader of other men's properties; or at least, such a oneas allows itself to walk so near the borders of injustice, that where_self_ is concerned, it hardly ever does right things. 

Mr. Locke proposes (Section 148) a very pretty method to cheatchildren, as it were, into learning: but then he adds, "There may bedice and playthings, with the letters on them, to teach children thealphabet by playing. " And (Section 151) "I know a person of greatquality, who, by pasting on the six vowels (for in our language _y_ isone) on the six sides of a dice, and the remaining eighteen consonantson the sides of three other dice, has made this a play for hischildren, that _he_ shall win, who at one cast throws most words onthese four dice; whereby his eldest son, yet in coats, has _played_himself _into spelling_ with great eagerness, and without once havingbeen chid for it, or forced to it. "

But I had rather your Billy should be a twelvemonth backwarder forwant of this method, than forwarded by it. For what may not be fearedfrom so early inculcating the use of dice and gaming, upon the mindsof children? Let Mr. Locke himself speak to this in his Section208, and I wish I could reconcile the two passages in this excellentauthor. "As to cards and dice, " says he, "I think the safest and bestway is, never to learn any play upon them, and so to be incapacitatedfor these dangerous temptations, and encroaching wasters of usefultime. " And, he might have added, of the noblest estates and fortunes;while sharpers and scoundrels have been lifted into distinction upontheir ruins. Yet, in § 153, Mr. Locke proceeds to give directions inrelation to the dice he recommends. 

But after all, if some innocent plays were fixed upon to cheatchildren into reading, that, as he says, should look as little likea task as possible, it must needs be of use for that purpose. But letevery gentleman, who has a fortune to lose, and who, if he games, ison a foot with the vilest company, who generally have nothing at allto risque, tremble at the thoughts of teaching his son, though for themost laudable purposes, the early use of dice and gaming. 

But how much I am charmed with a hint in Mr. Locke, which makes yourPamela 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 acharming paragraph; I must not skip one word of it. Thus it begins, and I will observe upon it as I go along. § 177: "But under whose caresoever a child is put to be taught, during the tender and flexibleyears of his life, this is certain, it should be one who thinks Latinand 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. , I think, says he was ten years in endeavouring to learnit, and, as far as I can find, knows nothing at all of the matterneither!--Indeed he lays that to the wicked picture in his grammar, which he took for granted (as he has often said, as well as oncewritten) was put there to teach boys to rob orchards, instead ofimproving their minds in learning, or common honesty. 

But (for this is too light an instance for the subject) Mr. Lockeproceeds--"One who knowing how much virtue and a well-tempered soul isto be preferred to any sort of _learning or language_, " [_What a noblewriter is this!_] "makes it his chief business to form the mind of hisscholars, and give that a right disposition:" [_Ay, there, dear Sir, is the thing!_] "which, if once got, though all the rest should beneglected, " [_charmingly observed!_] "would, in _due time_, " [_withoutwicked dice, I hope!_] "produce all the rest; and which, if it be notgot and settled, so to keep out ill and vicious habits, _languages_and _sciences_, and all the other accomplishments of education, willbe to no purpose, but to make the worse or more dangerous man. " [_Nowcomes the place I am so much delighted with!_] "And indeed, whateverstir there is made about getting of Latin, as the great and difficultbusiness, his mother" [_thank you, dear Sir, for putting thisexcellent author into my hands!_] "may teach it him herself, if shewill 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!_] "andmake him read the Evangelists in Latin to her. " [_How I long to befive or six years older, as well as my dearest babies, that I mayenter upon this charming scheme!_] "For she need but buy a LatinTestament, and having got somebody to mark the last syllable but one, where it is long, in words above two syllables (which is enough toregulate her pronunciation and accenting the words), read daily in theGospels, and then let her avoid understanding them in Latin, if shecan. "

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 morethan tolerably, though I don't understand it: but this method willteach _me_, as well as your dear _children_--But thus the goodgentleman proceeds--"And when she understands the Evangelists inLatin, let her in the same manner read Aesop's Fables, and so proceedon to Eutropius, Justin, and such other books. I do not mention this, "adds Mr. Locke, "as an imagination of what I fancy _may_ do, but asof a thing I have known done, and the Latin tongue got with ease thisway. "

He then mentions other advantages, which the child may receive fromhis mother's instruction, which I will try more and more to qualifymyself for: particularly, after he has intimated, that "at the sametime that the child is learning French and Latin, he may be enteredalso in arithmetic, geography, chronology, history, and geometry too;for if, " says he, "these be taught him in French or Latin, when hebegins once to understand either of these tongues, he will get aknowledge of these sciences, and the language to boot. " He thenproceeds: "Geography, I think, should be begun with: for the learningof the figure of the globe, the situation and boundaries of the fourparts of the world, and that of particular kingdoms and countries, being only an exercise of the eyes and memory, a child with pleasurewill learn and retain them. And this is so certain, that I now live ina house with a child, whom his MOTHER has so well instructed this wayin geography, " [_But_ _had she not, do you think, dear Sir, some ofthis good gentleman's kind assistance?_] "that he knew the limits ofthe four parts of the world; would readily point, being asked, to anycountry upon the globe, or any county in the map of England; knew allthe great rivers, promontories, streights, and bays in the world, andcould find the longitude and latitude of any place, before he was sixyears old. "

There's for you, dear Sir!--See what a mother can do if she pleases!

I remember, Sir, formerly, in that sweet chariot conference, atthe dawning of my hopes, when all my dangers were happily over (aconference I shall always think of with pleasure), that you asked me, how I would bestow my time, supposing the neighbouring ladies wouldbe above being seen in my company; when I should have no visits toreceive or return; no parties of pleasure to join in; no card-tablesto employ my winter evenings?

I then, Sir, transported with my opening prospects, prattled to you, how well I would try to pass my time, in the family management andaccounts, in visits now and then to the indigent and worthy poor; inmusic sometimes; in reading, in writing, in my superior duties--And Ihope I have not behaved quite unworthily of my promise. 

But I also remember, what once you said on a certain occasion, which_now_, since the fair prospect is no longer distant, and that I havebeen so long your happy wife, I may repeat without those blushes whichthen covered my face; thus then, with a _modest_ grace, and with that_virtuous_ endearment that is so _beautiful_ in _your_ sex, as wellas in _ours_, whether in the character of lover or husband, maidenor wife, you were pleased to say--"And I hope, my Pamela, to havesuperadded to all these, such an employment as--" in short, Sir, I amnow blessed with, and writing of; no less than the useful part I maybe able to take in the first education of your beloved babies!

And now I must add, that this pleasing hope sets me above all otherdiversions: I wish for no parties of pleasure but with you, my dearestMr. B. , and these are parties that will improve me, and make me morecapable of the other, and more worthy of your conversation, and ofthe time you pass (beyond what I could ever have promised to my utmostwishes) in such poor company as mine, for no other reason but becauseI love to be instructed, and take my lessons well, as you are pleasedto say; and indeed I must be a sad dunce, if I did not, from soskilful and so beloved a master. I want no card-table amusements; forI hope, in a few years (and a proud hope it is), to be able to teachyour dear little ones the first rudiments, as Mr. Locke points theway, of Latin, of French, and of geography, and arithmetic. 

O, my dear Mr. B. , by your help and countenance, what may I notbe able to teach them, and how may I prepare the way for a tutor'sinstructions, and give him up minds half cultivated to his hands!--Andall 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 ofreason, and delighting in every bright emanation of that ray ofdivinity, lent to the human mind, for great and happy purposes, whenrightly pointed and directed. 

There is no going farther after these charming recollections andhopes, for they bring me to that grateful remembrance, to whom, underGod, 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 and my glory; and well itmay, when I look back to my beginning with humble acknowledgment, andcan call myself, dearest Mr. B. , _your honoured and honouring, and, Ihope to say, in time, useful wife_, P. B. 

LETTER XCVII

MY DEAREST MR. B. , Having in my former letters said as much as is necessary to let youinto my notion of the excellent book you put into my hands, andhaving touched those points in which the children of both sexes may beconcerned (with some _art_ in my intention, I own), in hope that theywould not be so much out of the way, as to make you repent of thehonour you have done me, in committing the dear Miss Goodwin to mycare; I shall now very quickly set myself about the proposed littlebook. 

You have been so good as to tell me (at the same time that youdisapprove not these my specimen letters as I may call them), that youwill kindly accept of my intended present, and encourage me to proceedin it; and as I shall leave one side of the leaf blank for yourcorrections and alterations, those corrections will be a fine help andinstruction to me in the pleasing task which I propose to myself, ofassisting in the early education of your dear children. And as Imay be years in writing it, as the dear babies improve, as I myselfimprove, by the opportunities which their advances in years will giveme, and the experience I shall gain, I may then venture to give mynotions on the more material and nobler parts of education, as wellas the inferior: for (but that I think the subjects above my presentabilities) Mr. Locke's book would lead me into several remarks, thatmight not be unuseful, and which appear to me entirely new; thoughthat may be owing to my slender reading and opportunities, perhaps. 

But what I would now touch upon, is a word or two still moreparticularly upon the education of my own sex; a topic which naturallyarises to me from the subject of my last letter. For there, dear Sir, we saw, that the mothers might teach the child _this_ part of science, and _that_ part of instruction; and who, I pray, as our sex isgenerally educated, shall teach the _mothers_? How, in a word, shall_they_ come by their knowledge?

I know you'll be apt to say, that Miss Goodwin gives all the promisesof becoming a fine young lady, and takes her learning, loves reading, and makes very pretty reflections upon all she reads, and asks verypertinent questions, and is as knowing, at her years, as most youngladies. This is very true, Sir; but it is not every one that can boastof Miss Goodwin's capacity, and goodness of temper, which have enabledher to get up a good deal of _lost_ time, as I must call it; for herfirst four years were a perfect blank, as far as I can find, just asif the pretty dear was born the day she was four years old; for whatshe had to _unlearn_ as to temper, and will, and such things, setagainst what little improvements she had made, might very fairly becompounded for, as a blank. 

I would indeed have a girl brought up to her needle, but I would nothave _all_ her time employed in samplers, and learning to mark, anddo those unnecessary things, which she will never, probably, be calledupon to practise. 

And why, pray, are not girls entitled to the same _first_ education, though not to the same plays and diversions, as boys; so far, atleast, as is supposed by Mr. Locke a mother can instruct them?

Would not this lay a foundation for their future improvement, anddirect their inclinations to useful subjects, such as would make themabove the imputations of some unkind gentlemen, who allot to theirpart common tea-table prattle, while they do all they can to make themfit for nothing else, and then upbraid them for it? And would not themen find us better and more suitable companions and assistants to themin every useful purpose of life?--O that your lordly sex were all likemy dear Mr. B. --I don't mean that they should all take raw, uncouth, unbred, lowly girls, as I was, from the cottage, and, destroyingall distinction, make such their wives; for there is a far greaterlikelihood, that such a one, when she comes to be lifted up into sodazzling a sphere, would have her head made giddy with her exaltation, 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 dirtyink spread itself! What a standing disreputation to the choice of agentleman!

But _this_ I mean, that after a gentleman had entered into themarriage state with a young creature (saying nothing at all of birthor descent) far inferior to him in learning, in parts, in knowledge ofthe world, and in all the graces which make conversation agreeable andimproving, he would, as you do, endeavour to make her fit company forhimself, as he shall find she is _willing_ to improve, and _capable_of improvement: that he would direct her taste, point out to herproper subjects for her amusement and instruction; travel with her nowand then, a month in a year perhaps; and shew her the world, after hehas encouraged her to put herself forward at his own table, and at thehouses of his friends, and has seen, that she will not do him greatdiscredit any where. What obligations, and opportunities too, willthis give her to love and honour such a husband, every hour, moreand more! as she will see his wisdom in a thousand instances, andexperience his indulgence to her in ten thousand, to the praise ofhis politeness, and the honour of them both!--And then, when selectparties of pleasure or business engaged him not abroad, in his homeconversation, to have him delight to instruct and open her views, andinspire her with an ambition to enlarge her mind, and more and moreto excel! What an intellectual kind of married life would such personsfind theirs! And how suitable to the rules of policy and self-love inthe gentleman; for is not the wife, and are not her improvements, all_his own_?--_Absolutely_, as I may say, _his own_? And does not everyexcellence she can be adorned by, redound to her husband's honourbecause she is his, even more than to _her own_!--In like manner as nodishonour affects a man so much, as that which he receives from a badwife. 

But where is such a gentleman as Mr. B. To be met with? Look round andsee where, with all the advantages of sex, of education, of travel, of conversation in the open world, a gentleman of his abilitiesto instruct and inform, is to be found? And there are others, who, perhaps, will question the capacities or inclinations of our sex ingeneral, to improve in useful knowledge, were they to meet with suchkind instructors, either in the characters of parents or husbands. 

As to the first, I grant, that it is not easy to find such agentleman: but for the second (if excusable in me, who am one of thesex, and so may be thought partial to it), I could by comparisonsdrawn from the gentlemen and ladies within the circle of my ownacquaintance, produce instances, which are so flagrantly in theirfavour, as might make it suspected, that it is policy more thanjustice, in those who would keep our sex unacquainted with thatmore eligible turn of education, which gives the gentlemen so manyadvantages over us in _that_; and which will shew, they have none atall in _nature_ or _genius_. 

I know you will pardon me, dear Sir; for you are so exalted above yourPamela, by nature and education too, that you cannot apprehend anyinconvenience from bold comparisons. I will beg, therefore, to mentiona few instances among our friends, where the ladies, notwithstandingtheir more cramped and confined education, make _more_ than an equalfigure with the gentlemen in all the graceful parts of conversation, in spite of the contempts poured out upon our sex by some wittygentlemen, whose writings I have in my eye. 

To begin then with Mr. Murray, and Miss Damford that was; Mr. Murrayhas the reputation of scholarship, and has travelled too; but howinfinitely is he surpassed in every noble and useful quality, and ingreatness of mind, and judgment, as well as wit, by the young lady Ihave named! This we saw, when last at the Hall, in fifty instances, where the gentleman was, you know, Sir, on a visit to Sir Simon andhis lady. 

Next, dear Sir, permit me to observe, that my good Lord Davers, withall his advantages, born a counsellor of the realm, and educatedaccordingly, does not surpass his lady. 

_My_ countess, as I delight to call her, and Lady Betty, her eldestdaughter, greatly surpassed the Earl and her eldest brother in everypoint of knowledge, and even learning, as I may say, although bothladies owe that advantage principally to their own cultivation andacquirement. 

Let me presume, Sir, to name Mr. H. : and when I _have_ named him, shall we not be puzzled to find any where in our sex, one remove fromvulgar life, a woman that will not out-do Mr. H. ?

Lady Darnford, upon all useful subjects, makes a much brighter figurethan Sir Simon, whose knowledge of the world has not yet made himacquainted with himself. --Mr. Arthur excels not his lady. 

Mrs. Towers, a maiden lady, is an over-match for half a dozen ofthe neighbouring gentlemen I could name, in what is called wit andpoliteness, and not inferior to any of them in judgment. 

I could multiply such instances, were it needful, to the confutationof that low, and I had almost said, _unmanly_ contempt, with whicha certain celebrated genius treats our sex in general in most ofhis pieces, I have seen; particularly his _Letter of Advice to a newmarried Lady_; so written, as must disgust, instead of instruct; andlooks more like the advice of an enemy to the _sex_, and a bitter onetoo, than a friend to the _particular Lady_. But I ought to beg pardonfor this my presumption, for two reasons: first, because of the trulyadmirable talents of this writer; and next, because we know not whatladies the ingenious gentleman may have fallen among in his youngerdays. 

Upon the whole, therefore, I conclude, that Mr. B. Is almost the onlygentleman, who excels _every_ lady that I have seen; so _greatly_excels, that even the emanations of his excellence irradiate alow cottage-born girl, and make her pass among ladies of birth andeducation for somebody. 

Forgive my pride, dear Sir; but it would be almost a crime in yourPamela not to exult in the mild benignity of those rays, by which herbeloved Mr. B. Endeavours to make her look up to his own sunny sphere:while she, by the advantage only of his reflected glory, in _his_absence, which makes a dark night to her, glides along with her palerand fainter beaminess, and makes a distinguishing figure among suchlesser planets, as can only poorly twinkle and glimmer, for want ofthe aid she boasts of. 

I dare not, Sir, conjecture whence arises this more than parity inthe genius of the sexes, among the above persons, notwithstanding thedisparity of education, and the difference in the opportunities ofeach. This might lead one into too proud a thought in favour of a sextoo contemptuously treated by some _other_ wits I could name, who, indeed, are the less to be regarded, as they love to jest upon all GodAlmighty's works: yet might I better do it, too, than anybody, since Iam so infinitely transcended by my husband, that no competition, prideor vanity, could be apprehended from me. 

But, however, I would only beg of those who are so free in theircontempts of us, that they would, for _their own sakes_ (and that, with such generally goes a great way), rather try to _improve_ than_depreciate_ us: we should then make better daughters, better wives, better mothers, and better mistresses: and who (permit me, Sir, toask them) would be so much the better for these opportunities andamendments, as our upbraiders themselves!

On re-perusing this, I must repeatedly beg your excuse for these proudnotions in behalf of my sex, which, I can truly say, are not owing topartiality because, I have the honour to be one of it; but to a farbetter motive; for what does this contemptuous treatment of one half, if not the better half, of the human species, naturally produce, butlibertinism and abandoned wickedness? for does it not tend to makethe daughters, the sisters, the wives of gentlemen, the subjects ofprofligate attempts?--Does it not render the sex vile in the eyes ofthe most vile? And when a lady is no longer beheld by such personswith that dignity and reverence, with which perhaps, the graces of herperson, and the innocence of her mind, should sacredly, as it were, encompass her, do not her very excellencies become so many incentivesfor base wretches to attempt her virtue, and bring about her ruin?

What then may not wicked wit have to answer for, when its possessorsprostitute it to such unmanly purposes! And as if they had never hada mother, a sister, a daughter of their own, throw down, as much as inthem lies, those sacred fences which may lay the fair inclosure opento the invasions of every clumsier and viler beast of prey; who, though destitute of _their_ wit, yet corrupted by it, shall filltheir 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 uninvaded fence, and only shewedtheir teeth, and snarled at the well secured fold within it?

You cannot, my dearest Mr. B. , I know be angry at this romanticpainting: since you are not affected by it: for when at worst, you acted (more dangerously, 'tis true, for the poor innocents) a_principal_ part, and were as a lion among beasts--Do, dear Sir, letme say _among_, this one time--You scorned to borrow any man's wit;and if nobody had followed your example, till they had had yourqualities, the number of rakes would have been but small. Yet, don'tmistake me, neither; I am not so mean as to bespeak your favour byextenuating your failings; if I _were_, you would deservedly despiseme. For, undoubtedly (I _must_ say it, Sir), your faults were thegreater for your perfections: and such talents misapplied, as theymade you more capable of mischief, so did they increase the evil ofyour practices. All then that I mean by saying you are not affectedby this painting, is, that you are not affected by my descriptionof 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 atTunbridge, in relation to the consequences that might, had it not beenfor God's grace intervening, have followed the masquerade affair, Ihave the inexpressible pleasure to find a thorough reformation, fromthe _best_ motives, taking place; and your joining with me in mycloset (as opportunity permits) in my evening duties, is the charmingconfirmation of your kind and voluntary, and I am proud tosay, _pious_ assurances; so that this makes me fearless of yourdispleasure, while I rather triumph in my joy for your precious soul'ssake, than presume to think of recriminating; and when (only for thisonce) I take the liberty of looking back from the delightful _now_, tothe painful _formerly!_

But, what a rambler am I again! You command me to write to you allI think, without fear. I obey, and, as the phrase is, do it withouteither _fear_ or _wit_. 

If you are _not_ displeased, it is a mark of the true nobleness ofyour nature, and the sincerity of your late pious declarations. 

If you _are_, I shall be sure I have done wrong in having applied acorrosive to eat away the _proud flesh_ of a _wound_, that is notyet so thoroughly _digested_, as to bear a painful application, andrequires balsam and a gentler treatment. But when we were at Bath, Iremember what you said once of the benefit of retrospection: and youcharged me, whenever a _proper_ opportunity offered, to remind you, by that one word, _retrospection_, of the charming conversation we hadthere, on our return from the rooms. 

If this be not one of them, forgive, dearest Sir, the unreasonablenessof your very impertinent, but, in intention and resolution, _everdutiful_, P. B. 

LETTER XCVIII

_From Mrs. B. To her Father and Mother_

EVER DEAR, AND EVER HONOURED, I must write this one letter, although I have had the happiness to seeyou so lately; because Mr. B. Is now about to honour me with thetour he so kindly promised; and it may therefore be several months, perhaps, before I have again the pleasure of paying you the likedutiful respects. 

You know his kind promise, that he would for every dear baby I presenthim with, take an excursion with me afterwards, in order to establishand confirm my health. 

The task I have undertaken of dedicating all my writing amusementsto the dearest of men; the full employment I have, when at home; thefrequent rambles he has so often indulged me in, with my dear MissGoodwin, to Kent, London, Bedfordshire, Lincolnshire, and to my ladyDavers, take from me the necessity of writing to you, to my MissDamford that was, and to Lady Davers, so often as I formerly thoughtmyself obliged to do, when I saw all my worthy friends so seldom; thesame things, moreover, with little variation, occurring this year, asto our conversations, visits, friends, employments, and amusements, that fell out the last, as must be the case in a family so uniform andmethodical as ours. 

I have for these reasons, more leisure to pursue my domestic duties, which are increased upon me; and when I have said, that I am every daymore and more happy in my beloved Mr. B. , in Miss Goodwin, my Billy, my Davers, and now, newly, in my sweet little Pamela (for so, youknow, Lady Davers would have her called, rather than by her own name), what can I say more?

As to the tour I spoke of, you know, the first part of Mr. B. 'sobliging scheme is to carry me to France; for he has already travelledwith me over the greatest part of England; and I am sure, by mypassage last year, to the Isle of Wight, I shall not be afraid ofcrossing the water from Dover thither; and he will, when we areat Paris, he says, take _my_ farther directions (that was his kindexpression) whither to go next. 

My Lord and Lady Davers are so good as to promise to accompany us toParis, 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 ofthe party. 

Lady G. , Miss Damford that was (who likewise has lately lain-in of afine daughter), and I, are to correspond as opportunity offers; andshe promises to send you what I write, as formerly: but I have refusedto 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 writtenby persons who made stricter and better observations that I canpretend to make: so that what I shall write will relate only to ourprivate selves, and be as brief as possible. 

If we are to do as Mr. B. Has it in his thoughts, he intends to beout of England two years:--but how can I bear that, if for your sakesonly, and for those of my dear babies!--But this must be my time, my _only_ time, Mr. B. Says, to ramble and see distant placesand countries; for as soon as his little ones are capable of myinstructions, and begin to understand my looks and signs, he will notspare 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 hispapa in his dear forward spirit) shall go with us; and this pleasesMiss 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 Itell you, what she said to me, when first she saw you both, with yoursilver hairs, and reverend countenances?--"Madam, I dare say, yourpapa, and mamma, _honoured their father and mother_:"--"They did, mydear; but what is your reason for saying so?"--"Because _they havelived so long in the land which the LORD their GOD has given them_. "I took the charmer in my arms, and kissed her three or four times, asshe deserved; for was not this very pretty in the child?

I must, with inexpressible pleasure, write you word how happily God'sprovidence has now, at last, turned that affair, which once made meso uneasy, in relation to the fine Countess (who has been some timeabroad), of whom you had heard, as you told me, some reports, which, had you known at the time, would have made you very apprehensive forMr. B. 's morals, as well as for my repose. 

I will now (because I can do it with the highest pleasure, by reasonof the event it has produced), explain that dark affair so far asshall make you judges of my present joy: although I had hithertoavoided entering into that subject to you. For now I think myself, by God's grace, secure to the affection and fidelity of the best ofhusbands, and that from the worthiest motives; as you shall hear. 

There was but one thing wanting to complete all the happiness I wishedfor in this life; which was, the remote hope I had entertained, thatone day, my dear Mr. B. Who from a licentious gentleman became amoralist, would be so touched by the divine grace, as to become intime, more than moral, a religious man, and, at last, join in theduties which he had the goodness to countenance. 

For this reason I began with mere _indispensables_. I crowded nothis gates with objects of charity: I visited them at their homes, and relieved them; distinguishing the worthy indigent (made soby unavoidable accidents and casualties) from the wilfully, orperversely, 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, sounaccustomed (poor gentleman!) to acts of devotion and piety; whilstI met his household together, only on mornings and evenings of theSabbath-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 theother; 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 whichthey constantly obliged me. 

This good order had its desired effect, and our Sabbath-day assemblieswere held with so little parade, that we were hardly any of us missed. All, in short, was done with cheerful ease and composure: and everyone of us was better disposed to our domestic duties: I, to attend thegood pleasure of my best friend; and they, that of us both. 

Thus we went on very happily, my neighbourly visits of charity, takingup no more time than common airings, and passing many of them forsuch; my private duties being only between my FIRST, my HEAVENLYBENEFACTOR, and myself, and my family ones personally confined to theday separated for these best of services, and Mr. B. Pleased with mymanner beheld the good effects, and countenanced me by his praises andhis endearments, as acting discreetly, as not falling into enthusiasm, and (as he used to say) as not aiming at being _righteous overmuch_. 

But still I wanted, and waited for, with humble patience, and made itpart of my constant prayers, that the divine Grace would at last touchhis heart, and make him _more_ than a countenancer, _more_ than anapplauder of my duties; that he might for his own dear sake, become apartaker in them. "And then, " thought I, "when we can, hand in hand, heart in heart, one spirit as well as one flesh, join in the samecloset, in the same prayers and thanksgiving, what a happy creatureshall I be. "

I say, _closet_: for I durst not aspire so high, as to hope the favourof his company among his servants, in our Sunday devotions. --I knewit would be going too far, in _his_ opinion, to expect it from him. In_me_ their mistress, had I 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. Jervis in another--But from a man of hishigh temper and manner of education, I knew I could never hope for it, so would not lose _every_ thing, by grasping at _too much_. 

But in the midst of all these comfortable proceedings, and my furthercharming hopes, a nasty masquerade threw into his way a temptation, which for a time blasted all my prospects, and indeed made me doubtmy own head almost. For, judge my disappointment, when I found allmy wishes frustrated, all my prayers rendered ineffectual; his verymorality, which I had flattered myself, in time, I should be an humbleinstrument to exalt into religion, shocked, and in danger; and all thework to begin over again, if offended Grace should ever again offeritself to the dear wilful trespasser!

But who should pretend to scrutinize the councils of theAlmighty?--for out of all this _evil appearance_ was to proceed the_real good_, I had been so long, 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 tomy temper, and to raise his generous concern for me: and, in the verycrisis, divine Grace interposed, made him sensible of his danger, madehim resolve against his error, before it was yet too late: and hissliding feet, quitting the slippery path he was in, collected newstrength, and he stood the firmer and more secure for his peril. 

For having happily put a stop to that affair, and by his uniformconduct, for a considerable time, shewed me that I had nothing toapprehend from it, he was pleased, when we were last at Tunbridge, andin very serious discourse upon divine subjects, to say to this effect:"Is there not, my Pamela, a text, _That the unbelieving husbandshall be saved by the believing wife, whilst he beholds her chasteconversation coupled with fear?_"

"I need not tell you, my dear Mr. B. , that there is, nor where it is. "

"Then, my dear, I begin to hope, _that_ will be my case; for, from aformer affair, of which this spot of ground puts me more in mind, Isee so much reason to doubt my own strength, which I had built, and, as I thought securely, on _moral_ foundations, that I must look outfor a _better_ guide to conduct me, than the proud word _honour_ canbe, in the general acceptance of it among us lively young gentlemen. 

"How often have I promised (and I never promised but I intendedto perform) that I would be faithfully and only yours! How oftendeclared, that I did not think I could possibly deserve my Pamela, till I could shew her, in my own mind, a purity as nearly equal tohers, 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 resolution to watchover the very _first_ appearances of evil, and to check them as theyarise, can be of sufficient weight to keep steady to his good purpose, a vain young man, too little accustomed to restraint, and too muchused to play upon the brink of dangers, from a temerity, and love ofintrigue, natural to enterprising minds. 

"I would not make this declaration of my convictions to you, till Ihad thoroughly examined myself, and had reason to hope, that I shouldbe enabled to make it good. And now, my Pamela, from this instantyou shall be my guide; and, only taking care, that you do not, allat once, by injunctions too rigorous, damp and discourage the risingflame, I will leave it to you to direct as you please, till, bydegrees, it may be deemed worthy to mingle with your own. "

Judge how rapturous my joy was upon this occasion, and how ready Iwas to bless God for a danger (so narrowly escaped) which was attendedwith the _very_ consequences that I had so long prayed for; and whichI little thought the divine providence was bringing about by the verymeans, that, I apprehended, would put an end to all my pleasing hopesand prospects of that nature. 

It is in vain for me to seek words to express what I felt, and howI acted, on this occasion. I heard him out with twenty different andimpatient emotions; and then threw myself at his feet, embracinghis knees, with arms the most ardently clasped! My face lifted up toHeaven, 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 armsclasping my neck, and kissing my tearful cheek, I could only say--"Myardent prayers, are at last-heard--May God Almighty confirm your piouspurposes! And, Oh I what a happy Pamela have you at your feet!"

I wept for joy till I sobbed again--and he raising me to his kindarms, I said--"To have this _heavenly_ prospect, O best beloved of myheart! added to all my _earthly_ blessings!--How shall I containmy joy!--For, oh! to think that he is, and will be mine, and I his, through the mercies of God, when this transitory life is past andgone, to all eternity; what a rich thought is this!--Methinks I amalready, dear Sir, ceasing to be mortal, and beginning to taste theperfections of those joys, which this thrice welcome declaration givesme hope of hereafter!--But what shall I say, obliged as I was beyondexpression before, and now doubly obliged in the rapturous view youhave opened to me, into a happy futurity!"

He said, he was delighted with me beyond expression; that I was hisecstatic charmer!--That the love I shewed for his future good was themoving proof of the purity of my heart, and my affection for him. Andthat very evening he joined with me in my retired duties; and, at allproper opportunities, favours me with his company in the same manner;listening attentively to all my lessons, as he calls my cheerfuldiscourses on serious subjects. 

And now, my dear parents, do you not rejoice with me in this charming, charming appearance? For, _before_ I had the most generous, the mostbeneficent, the most noble, the most affectionate, but _now_ I amlikely to have the most _pious_, of husbands! What a happy wife, whata happy daughter, is _his_ and _your_ Pamela! God of his infinitemercy, 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 me with;and now proceed to write a few lines more. 

I am under some concern on account of our going to travel intosome Roman Catholic countries, for fear we should want the publicopportunities of divine service: for I presume, the ambassador'schapel will be the only Protestant place of worship allowed of, and Paris the only city in France where there is one. But we mustendeavour to make it up in our private and domestic duties: for, asthe 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 thepeople we are among; nor scandal, on the other, by compliances hurtfulto one's conscience. But my protector knows all these things so well(no place in what is called the grand tour, being new to him), that Ihave no reason to be very uneasy. 

And now let me, by letter, as I did on my knees at parting, beg thecontinuance of your prayers and blessings, and that God will preserveus to one another, and give us, and all our worthy friends, a happymeeting again. 

Kent, you may be sure, will be our first visit, on our return, foryour sakes, for my dear Davers's, and my little Pamela's sake, whowill be both put into your protection; while my Billy, and MissGoodwin (for, since I began this letter, it is so determined), areto be my delightful companions; for Mr. B. Declared, his temperwants looking after, and his notices of every thing are strong andsignificant. 

Poor little dear! he has indeed a little sort of perverseness andheadstrongness, as one may say, in his will: yet he is but a baby, andI hope to manage him pretty well; for he notices all I say, and everylook of mine already. --He is, besides, very good humoured, and willingto part with anything for a kind word: and this gives me hopes of adocile and benevolent disposition, as he grows up. 

I thought, when I began the last paragraph but one, that I was withina line of concluding; but it is _to_ you, and _of_ my babies, I amwriting; so shall go on to the bottom of this new sheet, if I do notdirectly finish: which I do, with assuring you both, that whereverI am, I shall always be thoughtful of you, and remember you in myprayers, as becomes _your ever dutiful daughter_, P. B. 

My respects to all your good neighbours in general. Mr. Longman willvisit you now and then. Mrs. Jervis will take one journey into Kent, she says, and it shall be to accompany my babies, when carried downto you. Poor Jonathan, and she, good folks! seem declining in theirhealth, which grieves me. --Once more, God send us all a happy meeting, if it be his blessed will! Adieu, adieu, my dear parents! _your everdutiful, &c. _

LETTER XCIX

My Dear Lady G. , I received your last letter at Paris, as we were disposing every thingfor our return to England, after an absence of near two years; inwhich, as I have informed you, from time to time, I have been agreat traveller, into Holland, the Netherlands, through the mostconsiderable province of France, into Italy; and, in our return toParis again (the principal place of our residence), through severalparts of Germany. 

I told you of the favours and civilities we received at Florence, fromthe then Countess Dowager of----, who, with her humble servant LordC----(that had so assiduously attended her for so many months inItaly), accompanied us from Florence to Inspruck. 

Her ladyship made that worthy lord happy in about a month after sheparted from us, and the noble pair gave us an opportunity at Paris, in their way to England, to return some of the civilities whichwe received from them in Italy; and they are now arrived at herladyship's seat on the Forest. 

Her lord is exceedingly fond of her, as he well may; for she is one ofthe most charming ladies in England; and behaves to him with so muchprudence and respect, that they are as happy in each other as can bewished. And let me just add, that both in Italy and at Paris, Mr. B. 'sdemeanour and her ladyship's to one another, was so nobly open, andunaffectedly polite, as well as highly discreet, that neither Lord C. Who had once been jealous of Mr. B. Nor the _other party_, who hadhad a tincture of the same yellow evil, as you know, because of theCountess, had so much as a shadow of uneasiness remaining on theoccasion. 

Lord Davers has had his health (which had begun to decline in England)so well, that there was no persuading Lady Davers to return beforenow, although I begged and prayed I might not have another littleFrenchman, for fear they should, as they grew up, forget, as Ipleasantly used to say, the obligations which their parentage laysthem under to dearer England. 

And now, my dearest friend, I have shut up my rambles for my wholelife; for three little English folks, and one little Frenchman (buta charming baby as well as the rest, Charley by name), and a nearprospect of a further increase, you will say, are family enough toemploy all my cares at home. 

I have told you, from time to time, although I could not write to youso often as I would, because of our being constantly in motion, whatwas most worthy of your knowledge relating to every particular, andhow happy we all have been in one another. And I have the pleasure toconfirm to you what I have often written, that Mr. B. And my Lord andLady Davers are all that I could wish and hope for, with regard totheir first duties. We are indeed a happy family, united by the bestand most solid ties!

Miss Goodwin is a charming young lady!--I cannot express how much Ilove her. She is a perfect mistress of the French language and speaksItalian very prettily! And, as to myself, I have improved so wellunder my dear tutor's lessons, together with the opportunity ofconversing with the politest and most learned gentry of differentnations, that I will discourse with you in two or three languages, ifyou please, when I have the happiness to see you. There's a learnedboaster for you, my dear friend! (if the knowledge of differentlanguages makes one learned. )--But I shall bring you an heart asentirely English as ever, for all that!

We landed on Thursday last at Dover, and directed our course to thedear farm-house; and you can better imagine, than I express, ourmeeting with my dear father and mother, and my beloved Davers andPamela, who are charming babies. --But is not this the language ofevery fond mamma?

Miss Goodwin is highly delighted now with my sweet little Pamela, andsays, she shall be her sister indeed! "For, Madam, " said she, "Missis a beauty!--And we see no French beauties like Master Davers andMiss. "--"Beauty! my dear, " said I; "what is beauty, if she be nota good girl? Beauty is but a specious, and, as it may happen, adangerous recommendation, a mere skin-deep perfection; and if, as shegrows up, she is not as good as Miss Goodwin, she shall be none of mygirl. "

What adds to my pleasure, my dear friend, is to see them both so wellgot over the small-pox. It has been as happy for them, as it was fortheir mamma and her Billy, that they had it under so skilful and kinda manager in that distemper, as my dear mother. I wish if it pleaseGod, it was as happily over with my little pretty Frenchman. 

Every body is surprised to see what the past two years have done forMiss Goodwin and my Billy. --O, my dear friend, they are both of themalmost--nay, quite, I think, for their years, all that I wish themto be. In order to make them keep their French, which Miss so wellspeaks, and Billy so prettily prattles, I oblige them, when theyare in the nursery, to speak nothing else: but at table, except onparticular occasions, when French may be spoken, they are to speakin English; that is, when they do speak: for I tell them, that littlemasters must only ask questions for information, and say--"Yes, "or--"No, " till their papas or mammas permit them to speak; nor littleladies neither, till they are sixteen; for--"My dear loves, " cry I, "you would not speak before you know _how_; and knowledge is obtainedby _hearing_, and not by _speaking_. " And setting my Billy on my lap, in Miss's presence--"Here, " said I, taking an ear in the fingers ofeach hand, "are two ears, 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 you _speak_, even when you grow a bigger master thanyou are now. "

"You have so many pretty ways to learn one, Madam, " says Miss, now andthen, "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 one English gentleman, now on his travels with young Mr. R. With whom Mr. B. Has agreed; and in the mean time, my best friendis pleased to compliment me, that the children will not suffer forwant of a tutor, while I can take the pains I do: which he will haveto be too much for me: especially that now, on our return, my Daversand my Pamela are added to my cares. But what mother can take too muchpains to cultivate the minds of her children?--If, my dear Lady G. , it were not for these _frequent_ lyings-in!--But this is the timeof life. --Though little did I think, so early, I should have so manycareful blessings!

I have as great credit as pleasure from my little family. All ourneighbours here admire us more and more. You'll excuse my seeming(for it is but seeming) vanity: I hope I know better than to have itreal--"Never, " says Mrs. Towers, who is still a single lady, "didI see, before, a lady so much advantaged by her residence in thatfantastic nation" (for she loves not the French) "who brought homewith her nothing of their affectation!"--She says, that the Frenchpoliteness, and the English frankness and plainness of heart, appearhappily blended in all we say and do. And she makes me a thousandcompliments upon Lord and Lady Davers's account, who, she wouldfain persuade me, owe a great deal of improvement (my lord in hisconversation, and my lady in her temper) to living in the same housewith us. 

My Lady Davers is exceeding kind and good to me, is always magnifyingme to every body, and says she knows not how to live from me: and thatI have been a means of saving half a hundred souls, as well as herdear brother's. On an indisposition of my Lord's at Montpellier, whichmade her very apprehensive, she declared, that were she to be deprivedof his lordship, she would not let us rest till we had consented toher 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 Iverily think, he is more of an ape than ever. His _whole_ head is nowFrench. 'Twas _half_ so before. We had great difficulties withhim abroad: his aunt and I endeavouring to give him a serious andreligious turn, we had like to have turned him into a Roman Catholic. For he was much pleased with the shewy part of that religion, and thefine pictures, and decorations in the churches of Italy; and havinggot into company with a Dominican at Padua, a Franciscan at Milan, anda Jesuit at Paris, they lay so hard at him, in their turns, that wehad like to have lost him to each assailant: so were forced to let himtake his own course; for, his aunt would have it, that he had noother defence from the attacks of persons to make him embrace a faultyreligion, than to permit him to continue as he was; that is to say, to have none at all. So she suspended attempting to proselyte thethoughtless creature, till he came to England. I wish her successhere: but, I doubt, he will not be a credit to any religion, for agreat while. And as he is very desirous to go to London, it will befound, when there, that any fluttering coxcomb will do more to makehim one of that class, in an hour, than his aunt's lessons, to makehim a good man, in a twelvemonth. "_Where much is given, much isrequired_. " The contrary of this, I doubt, is all poor Mr. H. Has totrust to. 

We have just now heard that his father, who has been long ill, isdead. So now, he is a lord indeed! He flutters and starts about moststrangely, I warrant, and is wholly employed in giving directions asto his mourning equipage. --And now there will be no holding him in, Idoubt; except his new title has so much virtue in it, as to make him awiser and better man. 

He will now have a seat in the House of Peers of Great Britain; but Ihope, for the nation's sake, he will not find many more like himselfthere!--For, to me, that is one of the most venerable assemblies inthe world; and it appears the more so, since I have been abroad; foran English gentleman is respected, if he be any thing of a man, above a foreign nobleman; and an English nobleman above some pettysovereigns. 

If our travelling gentry duly considered this distinction in theirfavour, they would, for the honour of their country, as well as fortheir 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 fromthe unlicked cubs (pardon the term) sent abroad with only stature, tomake them look like men, and equipage to attract respect, without oneother qualification to enforce it?

Here let me close this, with a few tears, to the memory of my dearMrs. Jervis, my other mother, my friend, my adviser, my protectress, in my single state; and my faithful second and partaker in thecomforts of my higher life, and better fortunes!

What would I have given to have been present, as it seems, she soearnestly wished, to close her dying eyes! I should have done it withthe piety and the concern of a truly affectionate daughter. But thatmelancholy happiness was denied to us both; for, as I told you inthe letter on the occasion, the dear good woman (who is now in thepossession of her blessed reward, and rejoicing in God's mercies) wasno more, when the news reached me, so far off as Heidelburgh, of herlast illness and wishes. 

I cannot forbear, every time I enter her parlour (where I used to see, with so much delight, the good woman sitting, always employed insome useful or pious work), shedding a tear to her memory; and in mySabbath duties, missing _her_, I miss half a dozen friends, methinks;and I sigh in remembrance of her; and can only recover that cheerfulframe, which the performance of those duties always gave me, byreflecting, 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 tearsat the name of Mrs. Jervis. Mr. Longman, too, lamented the loss ofher, in the most moving strain. And all I can do now, in honour of hermemory and her merit, is to be a friend to those she loved most, asI have already begun to be, and none of them shall suffer in thoseconcerns that can be answered, now she is gone. For the loss of soexcellent 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, so susceptible an heart as I have, or to have such good servants andfriends as one cannot lose without such emotions as I feel for theloss of them!) his silver hairs, which I have beheld with so muchdelight, and thought I had a father in presence, when I saw themadorning so honest and comely a face, are now laid low!--Forgiveme, he was not a common servant; neither are _any_ of ours so: butJonathan excelled all that excelled in his class!-I am told, thatthese two worthy folks died within two days of one another: on whichoccasion I could not help saying to myself, in the words of David overSaul and his son Jonathan, the name-sake of our worthy butler--"_Theywere lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their deaths they werenot divided. _"

I might have continued on in the words of the royal lamenter; for, surely, never did one fellow-servant love another in my maiden state, nor servant love a mistress in my exalted condition, better thanJonathan loved me! I could see in his eyes a glistening pleasure, whenever I passed by him: if at such times I spoke to him, as I seldomfailed to do, with a--"_God bless you too!_" in answer to his repeatedblessings, he had a kind of rejuvenescence (may I say?) visiblyrunning through his whole frame: and, now and then, if I laid my handsupon 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 kind of rapture, and his eyeswould run over. 

O my beloved friend! how the loss of these two worthies of my familyoppresses me at times!

Mr. B. Likewise shewed a generous concern on the occasion: and whenall the servants welcomed us in a body, on our return--"Methinksmy dear, " said he, "I miss your Mrs. Jervis, and honest Jonathan. " Astarting tear, and--"They are happy, dear honest souls!" and a sigh, were the tribute I paid to their memories, on their beloved master'sso kindly repeating their names. 

Who knows, had I been here--But away, too painful reflections--Theylived to a good old age, and fell like fruit fully ripe: they _diedthe death of the righteous_; I must follow them in time, God knows howsoon; and, _Oh! that my latter end may be like theirs!_

Once more, forgive me, my dear friend, this small tribute to theirmemories: 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 anddelight I have still left me, in the health and the love of the bestof husbands, and good men; in the children, charming as ever mothercould boast of--charming, I mean, principally, in the dawning beautiesof their minds, and in the pleasure their towardliness of nature givesme; including, as I always do, my dear Miss Goodwin, and have reasonto do, from her dutiful love of me, and observation of all I say toher; in the preservation to me of the best and worthiest of parents, hearty, though aged as they are; in the love and friendship of goodLord and Lady Davers, and my excellent friend Lady G. ; not forgettingeven worthy Mr. Longman. God preserve all these to me, as I am trulythankful for his mercies!--And then, notwithstanding my affectinglosses, as above, who will be so happy as I? That you, my dear LadyG. May long continue so, likewise in the love of a worthy husband, andthe delights of an increasing hopeful family, which will make you someamends for the heavy losses you also have sustained, in the two lastyears of an affectionate father, and a most worthy mother, and, inMrs. Jones, of a good neighbour, prays _your ever affectionate friendand servant_, P. B. 

 * * * * *

LETTER C

MY BELOVED LADY G. , You will excuse my long silence, when I shall tell you the occasionsof it. In the first place, I was obliged to pay a dutiful visit toKent, where my good father was taken ill of a fever, and my mother ofan ague; and think. Madam, how this must affect me, at their time oflife!

Mr. B. Kindly accompanied me, apprehending that his presence wouldbe necessary, if the recovery of them both, in which I thankfullyrejoice, had not happened; especially as a circumstance I am, I think, always in, added 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 sheshould _die_, if she saw me not, to comfort and recover, by my counseland presence (so she was pleased to express herself) her sick lord whohad just got out of an intermittent fever, which left him without anyspirit, and was occasioned by fretting at the conduct of her _stupidnephew_ (those also were her words). 

For you must have heard (every body hears when a man of quality doesa foolish thing!), and it has been in all the newspapers, that, "OnWednesday last the Right Honourable John" (Jackey they should havesaid), "Lord H. , nephew to the Right Honourable William Lord Davers, was married to the Honourable Mrs. P. , relict of J. P. Of Twickenham, Esq. , a lady of celebrated beauty and ample fortune. "

Now, you must know, that this celebrated lady is, 'tis true, ofthe----family, whence her title of _honourable_; but is indeed so_celebrated_, that every fluttering coxcomb in town can give someaccount of her, even before she was in keeping of the Duke of----whohad cast her on the town he had robbed of her. 

In short, she is quite a common woman; has no fortune at all, as onemay say, only a small jointure incumbered; and is much in debt. She isa shrew into the bargain, and the poor wretch is a father already;for he has already had a girl of three years old (her husband hasbeen dead seven) brought him home, which he knew nothing of, nor eveninquired, whether his widow had a child!--And he is now paying themother's debts, and trying to make the best of his bargain. 

This is the fruit of a London journey, so long desired by him, and hisfluttering about there with his new title. 

He was drawn in by a brother of his lady, and a friend of thatbrother's, two town sharpers, gamesters, and bullies. Poor Sir JosephWittol! 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 hisuncle, who had, as you may well think, lost all patience with him, onoccasion of this abominable folly. 

"MY LORD DAVERS, "For iff you will not call me neffew, I have no reason to call youunkell; surely you forgett who it was you held up your kane to: I haveas little reason to valew you displeassure, as you have me: for I am, God be thanked, a lord and a pere of the realme, as well as you; andas to youre nott owneing me, nor your brother B. Not looking uponme, I care not a fardinge: and, bad as you think I have done, I havemarry'd a woman of family. Take thatt among you!

"As to your personal abuses of her, take care whatt you say. You knowthe stattute will defend us as well as you. --And, besides, she hasa brother that won't lett her good name be called in question. --Mindthatt!

"Some thinges I wish had been otherwise--perhapps I do. --Whatthen?--Must you, my lord, make more mischiefe, and adde to my plagues, iff I have any?--Is this your unkelship?

"Butt I shan't want youre advice. I have as good an estate as youhave, and am as much a lord as yourselfe. --Why the devill then, am Ito be treated as I am?--Why the plague--But I won't sware neither. Idesire not to see 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 atthe House of Peeres where I shall be upon a parr with you in everything, that's my cumfurte. 

"As to Lady Davers, I desire not to see her ladyship; for she wasalways plaguy nimbel with her fingers; but, lett my false stepp bewhat itt will, I have in other respectes, marry'd a lady who is aswell descended as herseife, and no disparagement neither; so have nottthatt to answer for to her pride; and who has as good a spiritt too, if they were to come face to face, or I am mistaken: nor will sheetake affmntes from any one. So my lord, leave mee to make the bestof my matters, as I will of youres. So no more, but that I am _youreservante_, H. 

"P. S. I mean no affrunte to Mrs. B. She is the best of yee all--byG--. "

I will not take up your time with further observations upon this poorcreature'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 veryheavily, and wish he had married the lowest born creature in England(so she had been honest and virtuous), rather than done as he hasdone. 

But, I suppose, the poor gentleman was resolved to shun, at alladventures, Mr. B. 's fault, and keep up to the pride of descent andfamily;--and so married the only creature, as I hope (since it cannotbe helped), that is so great a disgrace to both: for I presume toflatter myself, for the sake of my sex, that, among the poor wretcheswho are sunk so low as the town-women are, there are very few of birthor education; but such, principally, as have had their necessitiesor their ignorance taken advantage of by base men; since birth andeducation must needs set the most unhappy of the sex above so sordidand so abandoned a guilt, as the hourly wickedness of such a course oflife subjects them to. 

But let me pursue my purpose of excusing my long silence. I had hardlyreturned from Lady Davers's, and recovered my family management, andresumed my nursery duties, when my fourth dear boy, my Jemmy (for, Ithink am I 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 weeksclose attention. And then a journey to Lord Davers's, and that noblepair accompanying us to Kent; and daily and hourly pleasures crowdingupon us, narrow and confined as our room there was (though we wentwith as few attendants as possible), engrossed _more_ of my time. Thus I hope you will forgive me, because, as soon as I returned, I setabout writing this, as an excuse for myself, in the first place; topromise you the subject you insist upon, in the next; and to say, thatI am incapable of forgetfulness or negligence to such a friend asLady G. For I must always be your _faithful and affectionate humbleservant_, P. B. 

LETTER CI

MY DEAR LADY G. , The remarks, your cousin Fielding says, I have made on the subject ofyoung gentlemen's travelling, and which you request me to communicateto you, are part of a little book upon education, which I wrote forMr. B. 's correction and amendment, on his putting Mr. Locke's treatiseon that subject into my hands, and requiring my observations upon it. 

I cannot flatter myself they will answer your expectation; for I amsensible they must be unworthy even of the opportunities I have had inthe excursions, in which I have been indulged by the best of men. But your requests are so many laws to me; and I will give you a shortabstract of what I read Miss Fielding, who has so greatly overrated itto you. 

The gentleman's book contains many excellent rules on education; butthis of travel I will only refer you to at present. You will theresee his objections against the age at which young gentlemen are sentabroad, from sixteen to twenty-one, the time in all their lives, he says, at which young gentlemen are the least suited to theseimprovements, and in which they have the least fence and guard againsttheir passions. 

The age he proposes is from seven to fourteen, because of theadvantage they will then have to master foreign languages, and to formtheir tongue to the true pronunciation; as well as that theywill be more easily directed by their tutors or governors. Or else heproposes that more sedate time of life, when the gentleman is able totravel without a tutor, and to make his own observations; and when heis thoroughly acquainted with the laws and fashions, the natural andmoral advantages and defects of his own country; by which means, as Mr. Locke wisely observes, the traveller will have something toexchange with those abroad, from whose conversation he hopes to reapany knowledge. And he supports his opinion by excellent reasons, towhich 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 enteredupon a foreign tour. I have there observed, that England abounds withcuriosities, both of art and nature, worth the notice of a diligentinquirer, and equal with some of those we admire in foreign parts;and that if the youth be not sent abroad at Mr. Locke's earliest time, from seven to fourteen (which I can hardly think will be worth while, merely for the sake of attaining a perfection in the languages), hemay with good advantage begin, at fourteen or fifteen, the tour ofGreat Britain, now-and-then, by excursions, in the summer months, between his other studies, and as a diversion to him. This I shouldwish might be entered upon in his papa's company, as well as histutor's, if it could conveniently be done; who thus initiating boththe governed and governor in the methods he would have observed byboth, will obtain no small satisfaction and amusement to himself. 

For the father would by this means be an eye-witness of the behaviourof the one and the other, and have a specimen how fit the young manwas to be trusted, or the tutor to be depended upon, when they wentabroad, and were out of his sight: as _they_ would of what wasexpected from them by the father. And hence a thousand benefits mayarise to the young gentleman from the occasional observationsand reflections of his father, with regard to expence, company, conversation, hours, and such like. 

If the father could not himself accompany his son, he might appointthe stages the young gentleman should take, and enjoin both tutorand son to give, at every stage, an account of whatever they observedcurious and remarkable, not omitting the minutest occurrences. Bythis means, and the probability that he might hear of them, and theirproceedings, from his friends, acquaintance, and relations, who mightfall in with them, they would have a greater regard to their conduct;and so much the more, if the young gentleman were to keep an accountof his expences, which, upon his return, he might lay before hisfather. 

By seeing thus the different customs, manners, and economy ofdifferent persons and families (for in so mixed a nation as ours is, there is as great a variety of that sort to be met with, as in most), and from their different treatment, at their several stages, a greatdeal of the world may be learned by the young gentleman. He would beprepared to go abroad with more delight to himself, as well as moreexperience, and greater reputation to his family and country. In suchexcursions as these, the tutor would see his temper and inclination, and might notice to the father any thing amiss, that it might beset right, while the youth was yet in his reach, and more underhis inspection, than he would be in a foreign country; and hisobservations, on his return, as well as in his letters, would shew howfit he was to be trusted; and how likely to improve, when at a greaterdistance. 

After England and Wales, as well the inland parts as the sea-coasts, let them if they behave according to expectation, take a journey intoScotland and Ireland, and visit the principal islands, as Guernsey, Jersey, &c. The youth continuing to write down his observations allthe way, and keeping a journal of occurrences; and let him employ thelittle time he will be on board of ship, in these small trips fromisland to island, or coastwise, in observing upon the noble art ofnavigation; of the theory of which, it will not be amiss that hehas some notion, as well as of the curious structure of a ship, itstackle, and furniture: a knowledge very far from being insignificantto a gentleman who is an islander, and has a stake in the greatestmaritime kingdom in the world; and hence he will be taught to love andvalue that most useful and brave set of men, the British sailors, whoare the natural defence and glory of the realm. 

Hereby he will confirm his theory in the geography of the Britishdominions in Europe, he will be apprised of the situation, conveniences, interests, and constitution of his own country; and willbe able to lay a ground-work for the future government of his thoughtsand actions, if the interest he bears in his native country shouldcall him to the public service in either house of parliament. 

With this foundation, how excellently would he be qualified to goabroad! and how properly then would he add to the knowledge he hadattained of his own country, that of the different customs, manners, and forms of government of others! How would he be able to formcomparisons, and to make all his inquiries appear pertinent and manly. All the occasions of that ignorant wonder, which renders a novice thejest of all about him, would be taken away. He would be able to askquestions, and to judge without leading strings. Nor would he think hehas seen a country, and answered the ends of his father's expence, andhis own improvement, by running through a kingdom, and knowing nothingof it, but the inns and stages, at which he stopped to eat anddrink. For, on the contrary, he would make the best acquaintance, andcontract worthy friendships with such as would court and reverence himas one of the rising geniuses of his country. 

Whereas most of the young gentlemen who are sent abroad raw andunprepared, as if to wonder at every thing they see, and to be laughedat by all that see them, do but expose themselves and their country. And if, at their return, by interest of friends, by alliances, ormarriages, they should happen to be promoted to places of honouror profit, their unmerited preferment will only serve to make thoseforeigners, who were eye-witnesses of their weakness and follies, whenamong them, conclude greatly in disfavour of the whole nation, or, atleast, of the prince, and his administration, who could find no fittersubjects to distinguish. 

This, my dear friend, is a brief extract from my observations onthe head of qualifying young gentlemen to travel with honour andimprovement. I doubt you'll be apt to think me not a little out of myelement; but since you _would_ have it, I claim the allowances of afriend; to which my ready compliance with your commands the ratherentitles me. 

I am very sorry Mr. And Mrs. Murray are so unhappy in each other. Werehe a generous man, the heavy loss the poor lady has sustained, as wellas her sister, my beloved friend, in so excellent a mother, and sokind a father, would make him bear with her infirmities a little. 

But, really, I have seen, on twenty occasions, that notwithstandingall the fine things gentlemen say to ladies before marriage, if thelatter do not _improve_ upon their husbands' hands, their imputedgraces 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 andcomplaisance. A strange and shocking difference which too many ladiesexperience, who, from fond lovers, prostrate at their feet, find surlyhusbands, trampling upon their necks!

You, my dear friend, were happy in your days of courtship, and are noless so in your state of wedlock. And may you continue to be so to agood old age, _prays your affectionate and faithful friend, _ P. B. 

LETTER CII

My dear Lady G. , I will cheerfully cause to be transcribed for you the conversation youdesire, between myself, Mrs. Towers, and Lady Arthur, and thethree young ladies their relations, in presence of the dean and hisdaughter, and Mrs. Brooks; and glad I shall be, if it may be of useto the two thoughtless Misses your neighbours; who, you are pleasedto tell me, are great admirers of my story and my example; and willtherefore, as you say, pay greater attention to what I write, than tothe more passionate and interested lessons of their mamma. 

I am only sorry you should be concerned about the supposed troubleyou give me, by having mislaid my former relation of it. For, besidesobliging my dear Lady G. , the hope of doing service by it to a familyso worthy, in a case so nearly affecting its honour, as to make twoheadstrong young ladies recollect what belongs to their sex and theircharacters, and what their filial duties require of them, affords mehigh pleasure; and if it shall be attended with the wished effects, itwill add to my happiness. 

I said, _cause_ to be transcribed, because I hope to answer a doubleend by it; for, on reconsideration, I set Miss Goodwin to transcribeit, who writes a pretty hand, and is not a little fond of the task, nor, indeed, of any task I set her; and will be more affected as sheperforms it, than she could be by _reading_ it only; although she isa very good girl at present, and gives me hopes that she will continueto be so. 

I will inclose it when done, that it may be read to the partieswithout this introduction, if you think fit. And you will forgive mefor having added a few observations, with a view to the cases ofyour inconsiderate young ladies, and for having corrected the formernarrative in several places. 

My dear Lady G. , The papers you have mislaid, as to the conversation between me andthe young ladies, relations of Mrs. Towers, and Lady Anne Arthur, inpresence of these two last-named ladies, Mrs. Brooks, and the worthydean, and Miss L. (of which, in order to perfect your kind collectionof my communications you request another copy) contained as follows. 

I first stated, that I had seen these three ladies twice or thricebefore, as visitors, at their kinswomen's houses so that they and Iwere not altogether strangers to one another: and my two neighboursacquainted me with their respective tastes and dispositions, and theirhistories preparatory to this visit, to the following effects:

That MISS STAPYLTON is over-run with the love of poetry and romance, and delights in flowery language and metaphorical flourishes: is abouteighteen, wants not either sense or politeness; and has read herselfinto a vein, more amorous (that was Mrs. Towers's word) than discreet. Has extraordinary notions of a _first sight_ love; and gives herselfgreater liberties, with a pair of fine eyes (in hopes to make suddenconquests in pursuance of that notion), than is pretty in her sexand age; which makes those who know her not, conclude her bold andforward; and is more than suspected, with a mind thus prepared forinstantaneous impressions, to have experienced the argument to herown disadvantage, and to be _struck_ by (before she had _stricken_)a gentleman, whom her friends think not at all worthy of her, andto whom she was making some indiscreet advances, under the name ofPHILOCLEA to PHILOXENUS, in a letter which she entrusted to a servantof the family, who, discovering her design, prevented her indiscretionfor that time. 

That, in other respects, she has no mean accomplishments, will havea fine fortune, is genteel in her person, though with some visibleaffectation, dances well, sings well, and plays prettily on severalinstruments; is fond of reading, but affects the action, and air, andattitude of a tragedian; and is too apt to give an emphasis in thewrong place, in order to make an author mean significantly, even wherethe occasion is common, and, in a mere historical fact, that requiresas 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 intoa sweat, as Mrs. Towers says; distorting very agreeable features, and making a _multitude_ of wry mouths with _one_ very pretty one, inorder to convince her hearers, what a near neighbour her heart is toher lips. 

MISS COPE is a young lady of nineteen, lovely in her person, with ahandsome fortune in possession, and great prospects. Has a soft andgentle turn of mind, which disposes her to be easily imposed upon. Isaddressed by a libertine of quality, whose courtship, while permitted, was imperiousness; and whose tenderness, insult: having found theyoung lady too susceptible of impression, open and unreserved, and even valuing him the more, as it seemed, for treating her withungenerous contempt; for that she was always making excuses forslights, ill manners, and even rudeness, which no other young ladywould forgive. 

That this docility on her side, and this insolence on his, and anover-free, and even indecent degree of romping, as it is called, withher, which once her mamma surprised them in, made her papa forbid_his_ visits, and _her_ receiving them. 

That this however, was so much to Miss Cope's regret, that she wasdetected in a design to elope to him out of the private garden-door;which, had she effected, in all probability, the indelicate anddishonourable peer would have triumphed over her innocence; havinggiven out since, that he intended to revenge himself on the daughter, for the disgrace he had received from the parents. 

That though convinced of this, it was feared she still loved him, and would again throw herself in his way; urging, that his rashexpressions were the effect only of his passion; for that she knows heloves her too well to be dishonourable to her; and by the samedegree of favourable prepossession, she will have it, that his brutalroughness is the manliness of his nature; that his most shockingexpressions are sincerity of heart; that his boasts of former lewdnessare but instances that he knows the world; that his freedoms with herperson are but excess of love and innocent gaiety of temper; that hisresenting the prohibition he has met with, and his threats, are otherinstances of his love and his courage: and peers of the realm oughtnot to be bound down by little narrow rules like the vulgar; for, truly, their _honour_ is in the greatest cases regarded as equal withthe _oath_ of a common gentleman, and is a security that a lady maytrust to, if he is not a profligate indeed; and that Lord P. _cannot_be. 

That excepting these weaknesses, Miss has many good qualities; ischaritable, pious, humane, humble; sings sweetly, plays on the spinnetcharmingly; is meek, fearful, and never was resolute or courageousenough to step out of the regular path, till her too flexible heartbecame touched with a passion, that is said to polish the most brutaltemper, and therefore her rough peer has none of it; and to animatethe dove, of which Miss Cope has too much. 

That Miss Sutton, a young lady of the like age with the two former, has too lively and airy a turn of mind; affects to be thought wellread in the histories of kingdoms, as well as in polite literature. Speaks French fluently, talks much upon all subjects; and has a greatdeal of flippant wit, which makes more enemies than friends. However, is innocent, and unsuspectedly virtuous hitherto; but makes herselfcheap and accessible to fops and rakes, and has not the worse opinionof a man for being such. Listens eagerly to stories told to thedisadvantage of some of her own sex; though affecting to be a greatstickler for the honour of it in general: will unpityingly propagatethem: thinks (without considering to what the imprudence of her ownconduct may subject her) the woman that slips inexcusable; and the manwho seduces her, much less faulty; and thus encourages the one sex intheir vileness, and gives up the other for their weakness, in a kindof silly affectation, to shew her security in her own virtue; atthe same time, that she is dancing upon the edge of a precipice, presumptuously inattentive to her own danger. 

The worthy dean, knowing the ladies' intention in this visit to me, brought his daughter with him, as if by accident; for Miss L. Withmany good qualities, is of a remarkable soft temper, though not soinconsiderately soft as Miss Cope: but is too credulous; and, asher papa suspects, entertains more than a liking to a wild younggentleman, the heir to a noble fortune, who makes visits to her, fullof tenderness and respect, but without declaring himself. This givesthe dean much uneasiness; and he is very desirous that his daughtershould be in my company on all occasions, as she is so kind to professa great regard to my opinion and judgment. 

'Tis easy to see the poor young lady is in love; and she makes nodoubt that the young gentleman loves _her_; but, alas! why then (forhe is not a bashful man, as you shall hear) does he not say so?--Hehas deceived already two young creatures. His father has cautioned thedean against his son. Has told him, that he is sly, subtle, full ofstratagem, yet has so much command of himself (which makes him moredangerous), as not to precipitate his designs; but can wait withpatience till he thinks himself secure of his prey, and then pulls offthe mask at once; and, if he succeeds, glories in his villainy. Yetdoes his father beg of the dean to permit his visits, for he wisheshim to marry Miss L. Though greatly unequal in fortune to his son, wishing for nothing so much as that he _would_ marry. And the dean, owing his principal preferment to the old gentleman, cares not todisoblige him, or affront his son, without some apparent reason forit, especially as the father is wrapt up in him, having no otherchild, and being himself half afraid of him, least, if too muchthwarted, he should fly out entirely. 

So here, Madam, are four young ladies of like years, and differentinclinations and tempers, all of whom may be said to have dangersto encounter, resulting from their respective dispositions: and who, professing to admire my character and example, were brought to me, tobe benefited, as Mrs. Towers was pleased to say, by my conversation:and all was to be as if accidental, none of them knowing how well Iwas acquainted with their several characters. 

How proud would this compliment have made me from such a lady as Mrs. Towers, had I not been as proud as proud could be before, of the goodopinion of four beloved persons, Mr. B. , Lady Davers, the Countess ofC. And your dear self. 

We were attended only by Polly Barlow, who in some points was as muchconcerned as any body. And this being when Lord and Lady Davers, andthe noble Countess, were with us, 'tis proper to say, they were abroadtogether upon a visit, from which, knowing how I was to be engaged, they excused me. The dean was well known to, and valued by, all theladies; and therefore was no manner of restraint upon the freedom ofour conversation. 

I was in my closet when they came; and Mrs. Towers, having presentedeach young lady to me when I came down, said, being all seated, "I canguess at your employment, Mrs. B. Writing, I dare say? I have oftenwished to have you for a correspondent; for every one who can boastof that favour, exalts you to the skies, and says, your letters exceedyour conversation, but I always insisted upon it that _that_ wasimpossible. "

"Mrs. Towers, " said I, "is always saying the most obliging things inthe world of her neighbours: but may not one suffer, dear Madam, forthese kind prepossessions, in the opinion of greater strangers, whowill judge more impartially than your favour will permit you to do?"

"That, " said Lady Arthur, "will be so soon put out of doubt, when Mrs. B. Begins to speak, that we will refer to that, and to put an end toevery thing that looks like compliment. "

"But, Mrs. B. , " says Mrs. Towers, "may one ask, what particularsubject was at this time your employment?"

I had been writing (you must know, Lady G. ) for the sake of suitingMiss Stapylton's flighty vein, a little sketch of the style she is sofond of; and hoped for some such opportunity as this question gave me, to bring it on the carpet; for my only fear, with her and Miss Cope, and Miss Sutton, was, that they would deem me too grave; and sowhat should fall in the course of conversation, would make the leastimpression upon them. For the best instructions, you know, will beineffectual, if the manner of conveying them is not adapted to thetaste and temper of the person you would wish to influence. Andmoreover, I had a view in it, to make this little sketch theintroduction to some future observations on the stiff and affectedstyle of romances, which might put Miss Stapylton out of conceit withthem, and make her turn the course of her studies another way, as Ishall mention in its place. 

I answered that I had been meditating upon the misfortunes of a fineyoung lady, who had been seduced and betrayed by a gentleman sheloved, and who, notwithstanding, had the grace to stop short (indeed, later than were to be wished), and to abandon friends, country, lover, in order to avoid any further intercourse with him; and that God hadblessed her penitence and resolution, and she was now very happy in aneighbouring dominion. 

"A fine subject, " said Miss Stapylton. "Was the gentleman a man ofwit, Madam? Was the lady a woman of taste?" we condemn every man whodresses well, and is not a sloven, as a fop or a coxcomb?"

"No doubt, when this is the case. But you hardly ever saw a man _very_nice about his person and dress, that had any thing he thought of_greater_ consequence to himself to regard. 'Tis natural it should beso; for should not the man of _body_ take the greater care to set outand adorn the part for which he thinks himself most valuable? Andwill not the man of _mind_ bestow his principal care in improving thatmind? perhaps to the neglect of dress, and outward appearance, whichis a fault. But surely, Madam, there is a middle way to be observed, in these, as in most other cases; for a man need not be a sloven, anymore than a fop. He need not shew an utter disregard to dress, noryet think it his first and chief concern; be ready to quarrel with thewind for discomposing his peruke, or fear to put on his hat, lest heshould depress his foretop; more dislike a spot upon his clothes, thanin his reputation; be a self-admirer, and always at the glass, whichhe would perhaps never look into, could it shew him the deformity ofhis mind, as well as the finery of his person; who has a taylor forhis tutor, and a milliner for his school-mistress; who laughs at menof sense (excusably enough, perhaps in revenge because they laugh athim); who calls learning pedantry, and looks upon the knowledge of thefashions as the only useful science to a fine gentleman. 

"Pardon me, ladies; I could proceed with the character of this speciesof men, but I need not; for every lady present would despise suchan one, as much as I do, were he to fall in her way: or the rather, because he who admires himself, will never admire his lady as heought; and if he maintains his niceness after marriage, it will bewith a preference to his own person; if not, will sink, very probably, into the worst of slovens. For whoever is capable of one extreme (takealmost the cases of human life through) when he recedes from that, ifhe be not a man of prudence, will go over into the other. 

"But to return to the former subject" (for the general attentionencouraged me to proceed), "permit me, Miss Sutton, to add, that alady must run great risks to her reputation, if not to her virtue, whowill admit into her company any gentleman who shall be of opinion, andknow it to be _hers_, that it is _his_ province to ask a favour, whichit will be _her_ duty to deny. "

"I believe, Madam, I spoke these words a little too carelessly; but Imeant _honourable_ questions, to be sure. "

"There can be but _one_ honourable question, " replied I; "and that isseldom asked, but when the affair is brought near a conclusion, andthere is a probability of its being granted; and which a single lady, while she has parents or guardians, should never think of permittingto be put to herself, much less of approving, nor, perhaps, as thecase may be of denying. But I make no doubt that you meant honourablequestions. A young lady of Miss Sutton's good sense, and worthycharacter, could not mean otherwise. And I have said, perhaps, morethan I need upon the subject, because we all know how ready thepresuming of the other sex are, right or wrong to construe the mostinnocent meetings in favour of their own views. "

"Very true, " said she; but appeared to be under an agreeableconfusion, every lady, by her eye, seeming to think she had met witha deserved rebuke; and which not seeming to expect, it abated herliveliness all the time after. 

Mrs. Towers seasonably relieved us both from a subject _tooapplicable_, if I may so express it, saying--"But, dear Mrs. B. , willyou favour us with the result of your meditation, if committed towriting, on the unhappy case you mentioned?"

"I was rather. Madam, exercising my fancy than my judgment, such asit is, upon the occasion. I was aiming at a kind of allegorical ormetaphorical style, I know not which to call it; and it is not fit tobe read before such judges, I doubt. "

"O pray, dear Madam, " said Miss Stapylton, "favour us with it _tochoose_; 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 willoblige 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 beprincipally some slight observations upon this way of writing. But, let it be ever so censurable, I should be more so, if I made anydifficulties after such an unanimous request. " So, taking it out of myletter-case, I read as follows:

"While the _banks_ of _discretion_ keep the _proud water_ of _passion_within their natural channel, all calm and serene glides along thesilver current, enlivening the adjacent meadows, as it passes, with abrighter and more flowery verdure. But if the _torrents_ of _sensuallove_ are permitted to descend from the _hills_ of _credulous hope_, they may so swell the gentle stream, as to make it difficult, if notimpossible, to be retained betwixt its usual bounds. What then will bethe consequence?--Why, the _trees of resolution_, and the _shrubsof cautious fear_, which grew upon the frail mound, and whoseintertwining roots had contributed to support it, being loosened fromtheir hold, _they_, and all that would swim of the _bank_ itself, willbe 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 stopit, and to say, with little variation in the language of that power, which only could enable _her_ to say it. _Hither, ye proud waves ofdissolute love, although you_ HAVE _come, yet no farther_ SHALL_ye come;_ is such an instance of magnanimous resolution andself-conquest, as is very rarely to be met with. "

Miss Stapylton seemed pleased (as I expected), and told me, that sheshould take it for a high favour, to be permitted, if not improper, tosee the whole letter when finished. 

I said, I would oblige her with all my heart. -"But you must notexpect, 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, naturaland unaffected. "

She was sure, she was pleased to say, that whatever my observationswere, they would be equally just and instructive. 

"I too, " said the dean, "will answer for that; for I dare say, by whatI have already heard, that Mrs. B. Will distinguish properly betweenthe style (and the matter too) which captivates the imagination, andthat which informs the judgment. "

Our conversation, after this, took a more general turn; which Ithought right, lest the young ladies should imagine it was a designedthing against them: yet it was such, that every one of them found hercharacter and taste, little or much, concerned in it; and all seemed, as Mrs. Towers afterwards observed to me, by their silence andattention, to be busied in private applications. 

The dean began it with a high compliment to me; having a view, nodoubt, by his kind praises, to make my observations have the greaterweight upon the young ladies. He said, it was matter of great surpriseto him, that, my tender years considered, I should be capable ofmaking those reflections, by which persons of twice my age andexperience might be instructed. -"You see, Madam, " said he, "ourattention, when your lips begin to open; and I beg we may have nothingto do, but to _be_ attentive. "

"I have had such advantages, Sir, from the observations and cautionsof my late excellent lady, that did you but know half of them, youwould rather wonder I had made _no greater_ improvement, than thatI have made _so much. _ She used to think me pretty, and notill-tempered, and, of _course_ not incredulous, where I conceived agood opinion; and was always arming me on that side, as believingI might be the object of wicked attempts, and the rather, as my lowfortune subjected me to danger. For, had I been born to rank andcondition, as these young ladies here, I should have had reasonto think of _myself_, as justly as, no doubt, _they_ do, and, ofconsequence, beyond the reach of any vile intriguer; as I should havebeen above the greatest part of that species of mankind, who, forwant of understanding or honour, or through pernicious habits, givethemselves up to libertinism. "

"These were great advantages, " said Miss Sutton; "but in _you_, theymet with a surprising genius, 'tis very plain, Madam; and there isnot, in my opinion, a lady of England, of your years, who would haveimproved by them as you have done. "

I answered, that I was much obliged by her good opinion: and thatI had always observed, the person who admired any good qualities inanother, gave a kind of _natural_ demonstration, that she had the samein an eminent degree herself, although, perhaps, her modest diffidencewould not permit her to trace the generous principle to its source. 

The dean, to renew the subject of _credulity_, repeated my remark, that it was safer, in cases where so much depended upon the issue, asa lady's honour and reputation, to _fear_ an _enemy_, than to _hope_ a_friend_; and praised my observation, that even a _weak_ enemy is notto be too much despised. 

I said, I had 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 foundedin our weakness: that the difference of education must give menadvantages, even where the genius is naturally equal; besides, theyhave generally more hardness of heart, which makes women, where theymeet not with men of honour, engage with that sex upon very unequalterms; for that it is so customary with them to make vows andpromises, and to set light by them, _when made_, that an innocent ladycannot guard too watchfully against them; and, in my opinion, should believe nothing they said, or even _vowed_, but what carrieddemonstration with it. 

"I remember my lady used often to observe, there is a time of life inall young persons, which may properly be called _the romantic_, whichis a very dangerous period, and requires therefore a great guard ofprudence; that the risque is not a little augmented by reading novelsand romances; and the poetical tribe have much to answer for, byreason of their heightened and inflaming descriptions, which do muchhurt to thoughtless minds, and lively imaginations. For to those, shewould have it, are principally owing, the rashness and indiscretion of_soft_ and _tender_ dispositions: which, in breach of their duty, and even to the disgrace of their sex, too frequently set them uponenterprises, like those they have read in those pernicious writings, which not seldom make them fall a sacrifice to the base designs ofsome wild intriguer; and even in cases where their precipitationends the best, that is to say, in _marriage_, they too frequently (indirect opposition to the cautions and commands of their _tried_, their_experienced_, and _unquestionable_ friends) throw themselves uponan _almost stranger_, who, had he 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 mostcredulous. Such a lady would do no harm to others, and cannot thinkothers would do her any. And as to the particular person who hasobtained, perhaps, a share in her confidence, _he_ cannot, shethinks, be so _ungrateful_, as to return irreparable mischief forher good-will to him. Were all the men in the world besides to provefalse, the _beloved_ person cannot. 'Twould be unjust to _her ownmerit_, as well as to _his views_, to suppose it: and so _design_ onhis side, and _credulity_ and _self-opinion_, on the lady's, at lastenrol 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 thewicked means of throwing, perhaps, upon the town, and into the dregsof prostitution, a poor creature, whose love for him, and confidencein him, was all her crime? and who otherwise might have made a worthyfigure at the head of a reputable family, and so have been an usefulmember of the commonwealth, propagating good examples, instead of ruinand infamy, to mankind? To say nothing of, what is still worse, the dreadful crime of occasioning the loss of a soul; since finalimpenitence too generally follows the first sacrifice which the poorwretch is seduced to make of her honour!"

"There are several gentlemen in our neighbourhood, " said Mrs. Brooks, "who might be benefited by this touching reflection, if representedin the same strong lights from the pulpit. And I think, Mr. Dean, youshould 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 havetoo many among our younger gentry who would think themselves pointedat were I to touch this subject ever so cautiously. "

"I am sure, " said Mrs. Towers, "there cannot well be a more usefulone; and the very reason the dean gives, is a convincing proof of itto me. "

"When I have had the pleasure of hearing the further sentiments ofsuch an assembly as this, upon the delicate subject, " replied thispolite divine, "I shall be better enabled to treat it. And pray, ladies, proceed; for it is from your conversation that I must take myhints. "

"You have only, then, " said Mrs. Towers, "to engage Mrs. B. To speak, and you may be sure, we will all be as attentive to _her_, as weshall be to _you_, when we have the pleasure to hear so fine a geniusimproving upon her hints, from the pulpit. "

I bowed to Mrs. Towers; and knowing she praised me, with the dean'sview, in order to induce the young ladies to give the greaterattention to what she wished me to speak, I said, it would be agreat presumption in me, after so high a compliment, to open my lips:nevertheless, as I was sure, by speaking, I should have the benefit ofinstruction, whenever it made _them_ speak, I would not be backward toenter upon any subject; for that I should consider myself as a youngcounsel, in some great cause, who served but to open it and preparethe way for those of greater skill and abilities. 

"I beg, then, Madam, " said Miss Stapylton, "you will _open the cause_, be the subject what it will. And I could almost wish, that we had asmany gentlemen here as ladies, who would have reason to be ashamedof the liberties they take in censuring the conversations of thetea-table; since the pulpit, as the worthy dean gives us reason tohope, may be beholden to that of Mrs. 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 our young gentlemen, were here, " said Mrs. Towers, "theymight improve themselves in all the graces of polite and sincerecomplaisance. But, compared to this, I have generally heard such triteand coarse stuff from our race of would-be wits, that what they saymay be compared to the fawnings and salutations of the ass in thefable, who, emulating the lap-dog, merited a cudgel rather thanencouragement. 

"But, Mrs. B. , " continued she, "begin, I pray you, to _open_ 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 seehow my obedience to your commands will make me run on. "

"Will you, Madam, " said Miss Stapylton, "give us a few cautions andinstructions on a theme of your own, that a young lady should rather_fear_ too much than _hope_ too much? A necessary doctrine, perhaps;but a difficult one to be practised by one who has begun to love, andwho supposes all truth and honour in the object of her favour. "

"_Hope_, Madam, " said I, "in my opinion, should never be unaccompaniedby _fear_; and the more reason will a lady ever have to fear, and tosuspect herself, and doubt her lover, when she once begins to find inher 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 fateof 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 aprudent woman trust to his mercy or honour; but to her own discretion:and the rather, because, if he mean well, he _himself_ will value herthe more for her caution, since every man desires to have a virtuousand 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, whichgenerally we dignify by the name of love; and which, when sodignified, puts us upon a thousand extravagances? I believe, ifexamined into, it would be found too generally to owe its originalto _ungoverned fancy;_ and were we to judge of it by the consequencesthat usually attend it, it ought rather to be called _rashness, inconsideration, weakness_, and thing but _love;_ for very seldom, I doubt, is the solid judgment so much concerned in it, as the _airyfancy. _ But when once we dignify the wild mis-leader with the name of_love_, all the absurdities which we read in novels and romances takeplace, and we are induced to follow examples that seldom end happilybut in _them. _

"But, permit me further to observe, that love, as we call it, operatesdifferently in the two sexes, as to its effects. For in woman it isa _creeping_ thing, in a man an _incroacher;_ and this ought, inmy humble opinion, to be very seriously attended to. Miss Suttonintimated thus much, when she observed that it was the man's provinceto ask, the lady's to deny:--excuse me. Madam, the observation wasjust, as to the men's notions; although, methinks, I would not have alady allow of it, except in cases of caution to themselves. 

"The doubt, therefore, which a lady has of her _lover's_ honour, is needful to preserve _her own_ and _his_ too. And if she does himwrong, and he should be too just to deceive her, she can make himamends, by instances of greater confidence, when she pleases. But ifshe has been accustomed to grant him little favours, can she easilyrecal them? And will not the _incroacher_ grow upon her indulgence, pleading for a favour to-day, which was not refused him yesterday, andreproaching her want of confidence, as a want of esteem; till thepoor lady, who, perhaps, has given way to the _creeping, insinuating_passion, and has avowed her esteem for him, puts herself too much inhis power, in order to manifest, as she thinks, the _generosity_of her affection; and so, by degrees, is carried farther than sheintended, or nice honour ought to have permitted; and all, because, to keep up to my theme, she _hopes_ too much, and _doubts_ too little?And there have been cases, where a man himself, pursuing the dictatesof his _incroaching_ passion, and finding a lady _too conceding_, hastaken advantages, of which, probably, at first he did not presume tothink. "

Miss Stapylton said, that _virtue_ itself spoke when _I_ spoke; andshe was resolved to recollect as much of this conversation as shecould, and write it down in her common-place book, where it would makea better figure than any thing she had there. 

"I suppose, Miss, " said Mrs. Towers, "your chief collections areflowers of rhetoric, picked up from the French and English poets, andnovel-writers. I would give something for the pleasure of having ittwo hours in my possession. "

"Fie, Madam, " replied she, a little abashed, "how can you expose yourkinswoman thus, before the dean and Mrs. B. ?"

"Mrs. Towers, " said I, "only says this to provoke you to shew yourcollections. I wish I had the pleasure of seeing them. I doubt not butyour common-place book is a store-house of wisdom. "

"There is nothing bad in it, I hope, " replied she; "but I wouldnot, 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 thepoetical writers particularly, light as you are pleased to make ofthem. Pray, Madam" (to me), "have you ever been at all conversant insuch writers?"

"Not a great deal in the former: there were very few novels andromances that my lady would permit me to read; and those I did, gave me no great pleasure; for either they dealt so much in the_marvellous_ and _improbable_, or were so unnaturally _inflaming_ tothe _passions_, and so full of _love_ and _intrigue_, that most ofthem seemed calculated to _fire_ the _imagination_, rather than to_inform_ the _judgment. _ Titles and tournaments, breaking of spearsin honour of a mistress, engaging with monsters, rambling in searchof adventures, making unnatural difficulties, in order to shew theknight-errant's prowess in overcoming them, is all that is requiredto constitute the _hero_ in such pieces. And what principallydistinguishes the character of the _heroine_ is, when she is taught toconsider her father's house as an enchanted castle, and her lover asthe hero who is to dissolve the charm, and to set at liberty from oneconfinement, in order to put her into another, and, too probably, aworse: to instruct her how to climb walls, leap precipices, and dotwenty other extravagant things, in order to shew the mad strength ofa passion she ought to be ashamed of; to make parents and guardianspass for tyrants, the voice of reason to be drowned in that ofindiscreet love, which exalts the other sex, and debases her own. Andwhat is the instruction that can be gathered from such pieces, for theconduct of common life?

"Then have I been ready to quarrel with these writers for anotherreason; and that is, the dangerous notion which they hardly everfail to propagate, of a _first-sight_ love. For there is such asusceptibility supposed on both sides (which, however it may pass ina man, very little becomes the female delicacy) that they are smittenwith a glance: the fictitious blind god is made a _real_ divinity:and too often prudence and discretion are the first offerings at hisshrine. "

"I believe, Madam, " said Miss Stapylton, blushing, and playing withher fan, "there have been many instances of people's loving at firstsight, 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 forcaution, enquiry, the display of merit and sincerity, and even theassurance of a _grateful return_, to a lady, who thus suffers herselfto be prepossessed? Is it not a random shot? Is it not a proof ofweakness? Is it not giving up the negative voice, which belongs to thesex, even while she is not sure of meeting with the affirmative onefrom him whose affection she wishes to engage?

"Indeed, ladies, " continued I, "I cannot help concluding (and I am theless afraid of speaking my mind, because of the opinion I have of theprudence of every lady that hears me), that where this weakness isfound, it is no way favourable to a lady's character, nor to thatdiscretion which ought to distinguish it. It looks to me, as if alady's _heart_ were too much in the power of her _eye_, and that shehad 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 anyindiscretion, you seldom fail to give cautions how to avoid it; andpray let us know what is to be done in this case? That is to say, howa young lady ought to guard against and overcome the first favourableimpressions?"

"What I imagine, " replied I, "a young lady ought to do, on any theleast favourable impressions of the kind, is immediately to _withdrawinto herself_, as one may say; to reflect upon what she owes to herparents, to her family, to her character, and to her sex; and toresolve to check such a random prepossession, which may much moreprobably, as I hinted, make her a prey to the undeserving thanotherwise, as there are so many of that character to one man of realmerit. 

"The most that I apprehend a _first-sight_ approbation can do, is toinspire a _liking_; and a liking is conquerable, if the person willnot brood over it, till she hatches it into _love_. Then every manand woman has a black and a white side; and it is easy to set theimperfections of the person against the supposed perfections, while itis only a _liking_. But if the busy fancy be permitted to work as itpleases, uncontrolled, then 'tis very likely, were the lady but tokeep herself in countenance for receiving first impressions, she willsee perfections in the object, which no other living soul can. And itmay be expected, that as a consequence of her first indiscretion, shewill confirm, as an act of her judgment, what her wild and ungovernedfancy had misled her to think of with so much partial favour. And toolate, 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 Stapyltonwas become very grave): "but I believe first-sight love often operatestoo powerfully in both sexes: and where it does so, it will be verylucky, if either gentleman or lady find reason, on cool reflection, toapprove 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 the rash and precipitate of bothsexes: and which soever loves, generally exalts the person belovedabove his or her merits: but I am desirous, for the sake of us maidenladies, since it is a science in which you are so great an adept, to have your advice, how we should watch and guard its firstincroachments and that you will tell us what you apprehend gives themen most advantage over us. "

"Nay, now, Mrs. Towers, you rally my presumption, indeed!"

"I 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 alittle silly upon this. ) "And who can better instruct us to guard _ourhearts_, than a lady who has so well defended _her own_?"

"Why then, Madam, if I must speak, I think, what gives the other sexthe greatest advantage over even many of the most deserving ones, is that dangerous foible, the _love of praise_, and the desire to be_flattered_ and _admired_, a passion I have observed to predominate, more or less, from sixteen to sixty, in most of our sex. We are toogenerally delighted with the company of those who extol our graces ofperson or mind: for, will not a _grateful_ lady study hard to returna_ few_ compliments to a gentleman who makes her so _many_! She isconcerned to _prove_ him a man of distinguished sense, or a politeman, at least, in regard to what she _thinks_ of herself; and so theflatterer shall be preferred to such of the sincere and worthy, ascannot say what they do not think. And by this means many an excellentlady has fallen a prey to some sordid designer. 

"Then, I think, nothing can give gentlemen so much advantage over oursex, as to see how readily a virtuous lady can forgive the capitalfaults of the most abandoned of the other; and that sad, sad notion, _that a reformed rake makes the best husband_; a notion that hasdone more hurt, and discredit too, to our sex (as it has given moreencouragement to the profligate, and more discouragement to the sobergentlemen), than can be easily imagined. A fine thing, indeed I asif the wretch, who had run through a course of iniquity, to theendangering of soul and body, was to be deemed the best companionfor life, to an innocent and virtuous young lady, who is to owethe kindness of his treatment to her, to his having never beforeaccompanied with a modest woman; nor, till his interest on one hand(to which his extravagance, perhaps, compels him to attend), andhis impaired constitution on the other, oblige him to it, so muchas _wished_ to accompany with one; and who always made a jest of themarriage state, and perhaps, of every thing either serious or sacred!"

"You observe, very well, " said Mrs. Towers: "but people will be aptto think, that you have less reason than any of our sex, to be severeagainst such a notion: for who was a greater rake than a certaingentleman, and who is a better husband?"

"Madam, " replied I, "the gentleman you mean, never was a commontown rake: he is a man of sense, and fine understanding: and hisreformation, _secondarily_, as I may say, has been the natural effectof those extraordinary qualities. But also, I will presume to say, that that gentleman, as he has not many equals in the nobleness ofhis nature, so he is not likely, I doubt, to have many followers, ina reformation begun in the bloom of youth, upon _self-conviction_, andaltogether, humanly speaking, _spontaneous_. Those ladies who wouldplead his example, in support of this pernicious notion, should findout the same generous qualities in the man, before they trust to it:and it will then do less harm; though even then, I could not wish itto be generally entertained. "

"It is really unaccountable, " said Mrs. Towers, "after all, as Mrs. B. , I remember, said on another occasion, that our sex should not asmuch insist upon virtue and sobriety, in the character of a man, asa man, be he ever such a rake, does in that of a lady. And 'tiscertainly a great encouragement to libertinism, that a worn-outdebauchee should think himself at any time good enough for a husband, and have the confidence to imagine, that a modest woman will acceptof his address, with a_ preference_ of him to any other. "

"I can account for it but one way, " said the dean: "and that is, that a modest woman is apt to be _diffident_ of her own merit andunderstanding and she thinks this diffidence an imperfection. A rake_never_ is troubled with it: so he has in perfection a quality shethinks she wants; and, knowing _too little _of the world, imagines shemends the matter by accepting of one who knows_ too much_. "

"That's well observed, Mr. Dean, " said Mrs. Towers: "but there isanother fault in our sex, which Mrs. B. Has not touched upon; and thatis, the foolish vanity some women have, in the hopes of reforming awild fellow; and that they shall be able to do more than any of theirsex before them could do: a vanity that often costs them dear, as Iknow in more than one instance. "

"Another weakness, " said I, "might be produced against some of oursex, who join too readily to droll upon, and sneer at, the misfortuneof any poor young creature, who has shewn too little regard forher honour: and who (instead of speaking of it with concern, andinveighing against the seducer) too lightly sport with the unhappyperson's fall; industriously spread the knowledge of it--" [I wouldnot look upon Miss Sutton, while I spoke this], "and avoid her, asone infected; and yet scruple not to admit into their company the vileaggressor; and even to smile with him, at his barbarous jests, uponthe poor sufferer of their own sex. "

"I have known three or four instances of this in my time, " said Mrs. Towers, that Miss Sutton might not take it to herself; for she lookeddown and was a little serious. 

"This, " replied I, "puts me in mind of a little humourous copy ofverses, written, as I believe by Mr. B. And which, to the very purposewe are speaking of, he calls

_"'Benefit of making others' misfortunes our own. _

 "'Thou'st heard it, or read it, a million of times, That men are made up of falsehood and crimes; Search all the old authors, and ransack the new, Thou'lt find in love stories, scarce one mortal true. Then why this complaining? And why this wry face? Is it 'cause thou'rt affected _most_ with thy own case? Had'st thou sooner made _others'_ misfortunes thy own, Thou never _thyself_, this disaster hadst known; Thy _compassionate caution_ had kept thee from evil, And thou might'st have defy'd mankind and the devil. '"

The ladies were pleased with the lines; but Mrs. Towers wanted to knowat what time of Mr. B. 's life they could be written. "Because, " addedshe, "I never suspected, before, that the good gentleman ever tookpains to write cautions or exhortations to our sex, to avoid thedelusions of his own. "

These verses, and these facetious, but severe, remarks of Mrs. Towers, made every young lady look up with a cheerful countenance; because itpushed the ball from _self_: and the dean said to his daughter, "So, my dear, you, that have been so attentive, must let us know whatuseful inferences you can draw from what Mrs. B. And the other ladiesso excellently said. "

"I observe. Sir, from the faults the ladies have so justly imputed tosome of our sex, that the advantage the gentlemen _chiefly_ have overus, is from our own weakness: and that it behoves a prudent womanto guard against _first impressions_ of favour, since she will thinkherself obliged, in compliment to _her own_ judgment, to find reasons, if possible, to confirm them. 

"But I wish to know if there be any way that a woman can judge, whether a man means honourably or not, in his address to her!"

"Mrs. B. Can best inform you of that, Miss L. , " said Mrs. Towers:"what say you, Mrs. B. ?"

"There are a few signs, " answered I, "easy to be known, and, I think, almost infallible. "

"Pray let's have them, " said Lady Arthur; and they all were veryattentive. 

"I lay it down as an undoubted truth, " said I, "that true love is oneof the most _respectful_ things in the world. It strikes with awe andreverence the mind of the man who boasts its impressions. It is chasteand pure in word and deed, and cannot bear to have the least indecencymingled with it. 

"If, therefore, a man, be his birth or quality what it will, thehigher the worse, presume to wound a lady's ears with indecent words:if he endeavour, in his expressions or sentiments, to convey grossor impure ideas to her mind: if he is continually pressing for _herconfidence_ in _his_ honour: if he requests favours which a lady oughtto 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_or _dress_--" [Here poor Miss Cope, by her blushes, bore witness toher case. ] "If he avoids _speaking_ of _marriage_, when he has a_fair opportunity_ of doing it--" [Here Miss L. Looked down andblushed]--"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 ladycan 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 theycould remember of the conversation: and our noble guests comingin soon after, with Mr. B. , the ladies would have departed; but heprevailed upon them to pass the evening; and Miss L. , who had anadmirable finger on the harpsichord, as I have before said, obligedus with two or three lessons. Each of the ladies did the like, andprevailed upon me to play a tune or two: but Miss Cope, as well asMiss L. , surpassed me much. We all sung too in turns, and Mr. B. Took the violin, in which he excels. Lord Davers obliged us on theviolincello: Mr. H. Played on the German flute, and sung us a fop'ssong, and performed it in character; so that we had an exceeding gayevening, and parted with great satisfaction on all sides, particularlyon the young ladies; for this put them all in good humour, and goodspirits, enlivening the former scene, which otherwise might haveclosed, perhaps more gravely than efficaciously. 

The distance of time since this conversation passed, enables me to addwhat I could not do, when I wrote the account of it, which you havemislaid: and which take briefly, as follows:

Miss Stapylton was as good as her word, and wrote down all she couldrecollect of the conversation: and I having already sent her theletter she desired, containing my observations upon the flighty styleshe so much admired, it had such an effect upon her, as to turnthe course of her reading and studies to weightier and more solidsubjects; and avoiding the gentleman she had begun to favour, gaveway to her parents' recommendations, and is happily married to SirJonathan Barnes. 

Miss Cope came to me a week after, with the leave of both her parents, and tarried with me three days; in which time she opened all her heartto me, and returned in such a disposition, and with such resolutions, that she never would see her peer again; nor receive letters from him, which she owned to me she had done clandestinely before; and she isnow the happy lady of Sir Michael Beaumont, who makes her the bestof husbands, and permits her to follow her charitable inclinationsaccording to a scheme which she consulted me upon. 

Miss L. , by the dean's indulgent prudence and discretion, has escapedher rake; and upon the discovery of an intrigue he was carrying onwith another, conceived a just abhorrence of him; and is since marriedto Dr. Jenkins, as you know, with whom she lives very happily. 

Miss Sutton is not quite so well off as the three former; thoughnot altogether so unhappy neither, in her way. She could not indeedconquer her love of dress and tinsel, and so became the lady of Col. Wilson: and they are thus far easy in the marriage state, that, beingseldom together, they have probably a multitude of misunderstandings;for the colonel loves gaming, in which he is generally a winner; andso passes his time mostly in town. His lady has her pleasures, neitherlaudable nor criminal ones, which she pursues in the country. Andnow and then a letter passes on both sides, by. The inscription andsubscription of which they remind one another that they have been oncein 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 it) but that I am, with great affection, _your true friend and servant_, P. B. 

LETTER CIII

MY DEAR LADY G. , You desire to have a little specimen of my _nursery tales_ and_stories_, with which, as Miss Fenwick told you, on her return toLincolnshire, I entertain my Miss Goodwin and my little boys. But youmake 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 yourmotives what they will, I must obey you, although, were others to seeit, I might expose myself to the smiles and contempt of judges lessprejudiced in my favour. So I will begin without any further apology;and, as near as I can, give you those very stories with which MissFenwick was so pleased, and of which she has made so favourable areport. 

Let me acquaint you, then, that my method is to give characters ofpersons I have known in one part or other of my life, in feignednames, whose conduct may serve for imitation or warning to my dearattentive Miss; and sometimes I give instances of good boys andnaughty boys, for the sake of my Billy and my Davers; and they arecontinually coming about me, "Dear Madam, a pretty story, " now criesMiss: "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 manyof the best characters in the Spectators; and having a smatteringof Latin, and more than a smattering of Italian, and being a perfectmistress of French, is seldom at a loss for a derivation of such wordsas are not of English original. And so I shall give you a story infeigned names, with which she is so delighted, that she has writtenit down. But I will first trespass on your patience with one of mychildish tales. 

Every day, once or twice, I cause Miss Goodwin, who plays and singsvery prettily, to give a tune or two to me, my Billy and my Davers, who, as well as my Pamela, love and learn to touch the keys, young asthe 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, fondmother!" I know you will say, on reading this. 

Then, Madam, we all proceed, hand-in-hand, together to the nursery, tomy Charley and Jemmy: and in this happy retirement, so much mydelight in the absence of my best beloved, imagine you see me seated, surrounded with the joy and the hope of my future prospects, as wellas my present comforts. Miss Goodwin, imagine you see, on my righthand, sitting on a velvet stool, 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-ey'd Pamela, withmy 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-natured promising Jemmy, in my lap; the nurses and thecradle just behind us, and the nursery maids delightedly pursuing someuseful needle-work for the dear charmers of my heart-All as hush andas still as silence itself, as the pretty creatures generally are, when their little, watchful eyes see my lips beginning to open: forthey take neat notice already of my rule of two ears to one tongue, insomuch that if Billy or Davers are either of them for breaking themum, as they call it, they are immediately hush, at any time, if I putmy finger to my lip, or if Miss points hers to her ear, even to thebreaking of a word in two, as it were: and yet all my boys are aslively as so many birds: while my Pamela is cheerful, easy, soft, gentle, always smiling, but modest and harmless as a dove. 

I began with a story of two little boys, and two little girls, thechildren 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 everybody who saw them, admired them, and talked of them far and near; thatthey would part with any thing to the another; loved the poor; spokekindly to the servants; did every thing they were bid to do; were notproud; knew no strife, but who should learn their books best, and bethe prettiest scholar; that the servants loved them, and would do anything they desired; that they were not proud of fine clothes; letnot their heads run upon their playthings when they should mind theirbooks; said grace before they eat, their prayers before they went tobed, and as soon as they rose; were always clean and neat; would nottell a fib for the world, and were above doing any thing that requiredone; that God blessed them more and more, and blessed their papa andmamma, and their uncles and aunts, and cousins, for their sakes. "Andthere was a happy family, my dear loves!-No one idle; all prettilyemployed; the Masters at their books; the Misses at their books too, or at their needles; except at their play-hours, when they were neverrude, nor noisy, nor mischievous, nor quarrelsome: and no such wordwas ever heard from their mouths, as, 'Why mayn't I have this or that, as well as Billy or Bobby?' Or, 'Why should Sally have this or that, any more than I?' But it was, 'As my mamma pleases; my mamma knowsbest;' and a bow and a smile, and no surliness, or scowling brow to beseen, if they were denied any thing; for well did they know thattheir papa and mamma loved them so dearly, that they would refuse themnothing that was for their good; and they were sure when they wererefused, they asked for something that would have done them hurt, hadit been granted. Never were such good boys and girls as these IAnd they grew up; and the Masters became fine scholars, and finegentlemen, and every body honoured them: and the Misses became fineladies, and fine housewives; and this gentleman, when they grew tobe women, sought to marry one of the Misses, and that gentleman theother; and happy was he that could be admitted into their companies Iso that they had nothing to do but to pick and choose out of the bestgentlemen in the country: while the greatest ladies for birth and themost remarkable for virtue (which, my dears, is better than eitherbirth or fortune), thought themselves honoured by the addresses of thetwo brothers. And they married, and made good papas and mammas, andwere so many blessings to the age in which they lived. There, my dearloves, were happy sons and daughters; for good Masters seldom failto make good gentlemen; and good Misses, good ladies; and God blessesthem with as good children as they were to their parents; and so theblessing goes round!-Who would not but be good?"

"Well, but, mamma, we will all be good:-Won't we, Master Davers?"cries my Billy. "Yes, brother Billy. But what will become of thenaughty boys? Tell us, mamma, about the naughty boys!"

"Why, there was a poor, poor widow woman, who had three naughty sons, and one naughty daughter; and they would do nothing that their mammabid them do; were always quarrelling, scratching, and fighting; wouldnot say their prayers; would not learn their books; so that the littleboys used to laugh at them, and point at them, as they went along, forblockheads; and nobody loved them, or took notice of them, exceptto beat and thump them about, for their naughty ways, and theirundutifulness to their poor mother, who worked hard to maintain them. As they grew up, they grew worse and worse, and more and more stupidand ignorant; so that they impoverished their poor mother, and at lastbroke her heart, poor poor widow woman!--And her neighbours joinedtogether to bury the poor widow woman: for these sad ungraciouschildren made away with what little she had left, while she was ill, before her heart was quite broken; and this helped to break it thesooner: for had she lived, she saw she must have wanted bread, and hadno comfort with such wicked children. "

"Poor poor widow woman!" said my Billy, with tears; and my little doveshed tears too, and Davers was moved, and Miss wiped her fine eyes. 

"But what became of the naughty boys, and the naughty girl, mamma?"

"Became of them! Why one son was forced to go to sea, and there he wasdrowned: another turned thief (for he would not work), and he came toan untimely end: the third was idle and ignorant, and nobody, who knewhow he used his poor mother, would employ him; and so he was forced togo into a far country, and beg his bread. And the naughty girl, havingnever loved work, pined away in sloth and filthiness, and at lastbroke her arm, and died of a fever, lamenting, too late, that she hadbeen so wicked a daughter to so good a mother!--And so there was asad end to all the four ungracious children, who never would mind whattheir poor mother said to them; and God punished their naughtiness asyou see!--While the good children I mentioned before, were the gloryof their family, and the delight of every body that knew them. "

"Who would not be good?" was the inference: and the repetition fromBilly, with his hands clapt together, "Poor widow woman!" gave me muchpleasure. 

So my childish story ended, with a kiss of each pretty dear, and theirthanks for my story: and then came on Miss's request for a woman'sstory, as she called it. I dismissed my babies to their play; andtaking Miss's hand, she standing before me, all attention, began in amore womanly strain to _her_; for she is very fond of being thoughta woman; and indeed is a prudent sensible dear, comprehends any thinginstantly, and makes very pretty reflections upon what she hears orreads as you will observe in what follows:

"There is nothing, my dear Miss Goodwin, that young ladies should beso watchful over, as their reputation: 'tis a tender flower that theleast frost will nip, the least cold wind will blast; and when onceblasted, it will never flourish again, but wither to the very root. But this I have told you so often, I need not repeat what I have said. So to my story. 

"There were four pretty ladies lived in one genteel neighbourhood, daughters of four several families; but all companions and visitors;and yet all of very different inclinations. Coquetilla we will callone, Prudiana another, Profusiana the third, and Prudentia the fourth;their several names denoting their respective qualities. 

"Coquetilla was the only daughter of a worthy baronet, by a lady verygay, but rather indiscreet than unvirtuous, who took not the requisitecare of her daughter's education, but let her be over-run with thelove of fashion, dress, and equipage; and when in London, balls, operas, plays, the Park, the Ring, the withdrawing-room, took up herwhole attention. She admired nobody but herself, fluttered about, laughing at, and despising a crowd of men-followers, whom sheattracted by gay, thoughtless freedoms of behaviour, too nearlytreading on the skirts of immodesty: yet made she not one worthyconquest, exciting, on the contrary, in all sober minds, that contemptof herself, which she so profusely would be thought to pour down uponthe rest of the world. After she had several years fluttered about thedangerous light, like some silly fly, she at last singed the wings ofher reputation; for, being despised by every worthy heart, she becametoo easy and cheap a prey to a man the most unworthy of all herfollowers, who had resolution and confidence enough to break throughthose few cobweb reserves, in which she had encircled her precariousvirtue; and which were no longer of force to preserve her honour, whenshe met with a man more bold and more enterprising than herself, andwho was as designing as she was thoughtless. And what then became ofCoquetilla?-Why, she was forced to pass over sea to Ireland, wherenobody knew her, and to bury herself in a dull obscurity; to go byanother name, and at last, unable to support a life so unsuitableto the natural gaiety of her temper, she pined herself into aconsumption, and died, unpitied and unlamented, among strangers, having not one friend but whom she bought with her money. "

"Poor Lady Coquetilla!" said Miss Goodwin; "what a sad thing it is tohave a wrong education; and how happy am I, who have so good a ladyto supply the place of a dear distant mamma!-But be pleased, Madam, toproceed to the next. "

"Prudiana, my dear, was the daughter of a gentleman who was a widower, and had, while the young lady was an infant, buried her mamma. He wasa good sort of man; but had but one lesson to teach to Prudiana, andthat was to avoid all sort of conversation with the men; but nevergave her the right turn of mind, nor instilled into it that senseof her religious duties, which would have been her best guard in alltemptations. For, provided she kept out of the sight and conversationof the gentlemen, and avoided the company of those ladies who morefreely conversed with the other sex, it was all her papa desired ofher. This gave her a haughty, sullen, and reserved turn; made herstiff, formal, and affected. She had sense enough to discover earlythe faults of Coquetilla, and, in dislike to them, fell the moreeasily into that contrary extreme, which a recluse education, andher papa's cautions, naturally led her. So that pride, reserve, affectation, and censoriousness, made up the essentials of hercharacter, and she became more unamiable even than Coquetilla; andas the other was too accessible, Prudiana was quite unapproachable bygentlemen, and unfit for any conversation, but that of her servants, being also deserted by those of her own sex, by whom she might haveimproved, on account of her censorious disposition. And what was theconsequence? Why this: every worthy person of both sexes despisingher, and she being used to see nobody but servants, at last throwsherself upon one of that class: in an evil hour, she finds somethingthat is taking to her low taste in the person of her papa's valet, a wretch so infinitely beneath her (but a gay coxcomb of a servant), that every body attributed to her the scandal of making the firstadvances; for, otherwise, it was presumed, he durst not have lookedup to his master's daughter. So here ended all her pride. All herreserves came to this! Her censoriousness of others redoubled people'scontempt upon herself, and made nobody pity her. She was finallyturned out of doors, without a penny of fortune: the fellow was forcedto set up a barber's shop in a country town; for all he knew was toshave and dress a peruke: and her papa would never look upon her more:so that Prudiana became the outcast of her family, and the scornof all that knew her; and was forced to mingle in conversation andcompany with the wretches of her husband's degree!"

"Poor, miserable Prudiana!" said Miss--"What a sad, sad fall was hers. And all owing to the want of a proper education too!--And to the lossof such a mamma, as I have an aunt; and so wise a papa as I have anuncle!--How could her papa, I wonder, restrain her person as hedid, like a poor nun, and make her unacquainted with the generousrestraints of the mind?

"I am sure, my dear good aunt, it will be owing to you, that I shallnever be a Coquetilla, nor a Prudiana neither. Your table is alwayssurrounded with the best of company, with worthy gentlemen as well asladies: and you instruct me to judge of both, and of every new guest, in such a manner, as makes me esteem them all, and censure nobody; butyet to see faults in some to avoid, and graces in others to imitate;but in nobody but yourself and my uncle, any thing so like perfection, as shall attract one's admiration to one's own ruin. "

"You are young, yet, my love, and must always doubt your own strength;and pray to God, more and more, as your years advance, to give youmore and more prudence, and watchfulness over your conduct. 

"But yet, my dear, you must think justly of yourself too; for letthe young gentlemen be ever so learned and discreet, your educationentitles you to think as well of yourself as of them: for, don't yousee, the ladies who are so kind as to visit us, that have not beenabroad, as you have been, when they were young, yet make as goodfigures in conversation, say as good things as any of the gentlemen?For, my dear, all that the gentlemen know more than the ladies, excepthere and there such a one as your dear uncle, with all their learnededucation, is only, that they have been _disciplined_, perhaps, intoan observation of a few accuracies in speech, which, if they know nomore, rather distinguish the _pedant_ than the _gentleman_: such asthe avoiding of a false concord, as they call it, and which you knowhow to do, as well as the best; not to put a _was_ for a _were_, an_are_ for an _is_, and to be able to speak in mood and tense, and suchlike valuable parts of education: so that, my dear, you can have noreason to look upon that sex in so high a light, as to depreciate yourown: and yet you must not be proud nor conceited neither; but makethis one rule your guide:

"In your _maiden state_, think yourself _above_ the gentlemen, andthey'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 virginmodesty, and untainted purity of mind and manners, like that of anangel among men; for so young ladies should look upon themselves tobe, and will then be treated as such by the other sex. 

"In your _married state_, which is a kind of state of humiliation fora lady, you must think yourself subordinate to your husband; for so ithas pleased God to make the wife. You must have no will of your own, in _petty_ things; and if you marry a gentleman of sense and honour, such a one as your uncle, he will look upon you as his equal; and willexalt you the more for your abasing yourself. In short, my dear, hewill act by you, just as your dear uncle does by me: and then, what ahappy creature will you be!"

"So I shall, Madam! To be sure I shall!--But I know I shall be happywhenever I marry, because I have such wise directors, and such anexample, before me: and, if it please God, I will never think ofany man (in pursuance of your constant advice to young ladies at thetea-table), who is not a man of sense, and a virtuous gentleman. Butnow, dear Madam, for your next character. There are two more yet tocome, that's my pleasure! I wish there were ten!"

"Why the next was Profusiana, you may remember, my love. Profusianatook another course to _her_ ruin. She fell into some of Coquetilla'sfoibles, but pursued them for another end, and in another manner. Struck with the grandeur and magnificence of what weak people call the_upper life_, she gives herself up to the circus, to balls, to operas, to masquerades, and assemblies; affects to shine at the head of allcompanies, at Tunbridge, at Bath, and every place of public resort;plays high, is always receiving and paying visits, giving balls, andmaking treats and entertainments; and is so much _above_ the conductwhich mostly recommends a young lady to the esteem of the deservingof the other sex, that no gentleman, who prefers solid happiness, canthink of addressing her, though she is a fine person, and has manyoutward graces of behaviour. She becomes the favourite toast of theplace she frequents, is proud of that distinction; gives the fashion, and delights in the pride, that she can make apes in imitation, whenever she pleases. But yet endeavouring to avoid being thoughtproud, makes herself cheap, and is the subject of the attempts ofevery 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 someof her gaieties and extravagances: for Profusiana has wit, and is nottotally destitute of reason, when she suffers herself to think. Buther conduct procures her not one solid friendship, and she has notin a twelvemonth, among a thousand professions of service, one devoirthat she can attend to, or a friend that she can depend upon. All thewomen she sees, if she excels them, hate her: the gay part of the men, with whom she accompanies most, are all in a plot against her honour. Even the gentlemen, whose conduct in the general is governed byprinciples of virtue, come down to these public places to partake ofthe innocent freedoms allowed there, and oftentimes give themselvesairs of gallantry, and never have it in their thoughts to commence atreaty of marriage with an acquaintance begun upon that gay spot. Whatsolid 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, whowears a diamond to engrave it: and that it may be, with most vile andbarbarous imputations and freedoms of words, added by rakes, who veryprobably never exchanged a syllable with her. The wounded trees areperhaps also taught to wear the initials of her name, linked, notunlikely, and widening as they grow, with those of a scoundrel. Butall this while she makes not the least impression upon one nobleheart: and at last, perhaps, having run on to the end of anuninterrupted race of follies, she is cheated into the arms of somevile fortune-hunter; who quickly lavishes away the remains of thatfortune which her extravagance had left; and then, after the worstusage, abandoning her with contempt, she sinks into an obscurity thatcuts short the thread of her life, and leaves no remembrance, but onthe brittle glass, and still more faithless bark, that ever she had abeing. "

"Alas, alas! what a butterfly of a day, " said Miss (an expression sheremembered of Lady Towers), "was poor Profusiana!--What a sad thingto be so dazzled by worldly grandeur, and to have so many admirers, and not one real friend!"

"Very true, my dear; and how carefully ought a person of a gay andlively temper to watch over it I And what a rock may public places beto a lady's reputation, if she be not doubly vigilant in her conduct, when she is exposed to the censures and observations of malignantcrowds of people; many of the worst of whom spare the least those whoare most unlike themselves. "

"But then, Madam, " said Miss, "would Profusiana venture to play atpublic places? Will ladies game, Madam? I have heard you say, thatlords, and sharpers but just out of liveries, in gaming, are upon afoot in every thing, save that one has nothing to lose, and theother much, besides his reputation! And will ladies so disgrace theircharacters, and their sex, as to pursue this pernicious diversion inpublic?"

"Yes, my dear, they will too often, the more's the pity! And don't youremember, when we were at Bath, in what a hurry I once passed by someknots of genteel people, and you asked what those were doing? I toldyou, whisperingly, they were gaming; and loath I was, that my MissGoodwin should stop to see some sights, to which, till she arrived atthe years of discretion, it was not proper to familiarize her eye;in some sort acting like the ancient Romans, who would not assignpunishments to certain atrocious crimes, because they had such an highidea 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 youare so much a woman in discretion, I may tell you any thing. "

She kissed my hand, and made me a fine curtsey-and told me, that nowshe longed to hear of Prudentia's conduct. "_Her_ name, Madam, " saidshe, "promises better things than those of her three companions; andso it had need: for how sad is it to think, that out of four ladiesof distinction, three of them should be naughty, and, _of course_, unhappy. "-"These two words, _of course_, my dear, " said I, "werevery prettily put in: let me kiss you for it: since every one that isnaughty, first or last, must be _certainly_ unhappy. 

"Far otherwise than what I have related, was it with the amiablePrudentia. Like the industrious bee, she makes up her honey-hoard fromevery flower, bitter as well as sweet; for every character is of useto her, by which she can improve her own. She had the happiness of anaunt, who loved her, as I do you; and of an uncle who doated on her, as yours does: for, alas! poor Prudentia lost her papa and mammaalmost in her infancy, in one week: but was so happy in her uncle andaunt's care, as not to miss them in her education, and but just toremember 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 nights ofCoquetilla. The sullen pride, the affectation, and stiff reserves, which Prudiana assumed, she penetrated, and made it her study toavoid. And the gay, hazardous conduct, extravagant temper, and loveof tinselled grandeur, which were the blemishes of Profusiana'scharacter, she dreaded and shunned. She fortifies herself with theexcellent examples of the past and present ages, and knows how toavoid the faults of the faulty, and to imitate the graces of the mostperfect. She takes into her scheme of that future happiness, which shehopes to make her own, what are the true excellencies of her sex, andendeavours to appropriate to herself the domestic virtues, whichshall one day make her the crown of some worthy gentleman's earthlyhappiness: and which, _of course_, as you prettily said, my dear, willsecure and heighten her own. 

"That noble frankness of disposition, that sweet and unaffectedopenness and simplicity, which shines in all her actions andbehaviour, commend her to the esteem and reverence of all mankind;as her humility and affability, and a temper uncensorious, and evermaking the best of what she said of the absent person, of either sex, do to the love of every lady. Her name, indeed, is not prostitutedon windows, nor carved on the barks of trees in public places: but itsmells sweet to every nostril, dwells on every tongue, and is engravenon every heart. She meets with no address but from men of honourand probity: the fluttering coxcomb, the inveigling parasite, theinsidious deceiver, the mercenary fortune-hunter, spread no snares fora heart guarded by discretion and prudence, as hers is. They see, thatall her amiable virtues are the happy result of an uniform judgment, and the effects of her own wisdom, founded in an education to whichshe does the highest credit. And at last, after several worthyoffers, enough to perplex a lady's choice, she blesses some one happygentleman, more distinguished than the rest, for learning, good sense, and _true politeness_, which is but another word for _virtue_ and_honour_; and shines, to her last hour, in all the duties of domesticlife, as an excellent wife, mother, mistress, friend, and Christian;and so confirms all the expectations of which her maiden life hadgiven such strong and such edifying presages. "

Then folding my dear Miss in my arms, and kissing her, tears ofpleasure standing in her pretty eyes, "Who would not, " said I, "shunthe examples of the Coquetilla's, the Prudiana's, and the Profusiana'sof this world, and choose to' imitate the character of Prudentia!-thehappy, and the happy-making Prudentia. "

"O Madam! Madam!" said the dear creature, smothering me with herrapturous kisses, "Prudentia is YOU!--Is YOU indeed!--It _can_ benobody else!--O teach me, good God! to follow _your_ example, and Ishall be a Second Prudentia--Indeed I shall!"

"God send you may, my beloved Miss! And may he bless you more, ifpossible, than Prudentia was blessed!"

And so, my dear Lady G. , you have some of my nursery tales; withwhich, relying on your kind allowances and friendship, I concludemyself _your affectionate and faithful_

P. B. 

CONCLUSION

The Editor thinks proper to conclude in this place, that he may not bethought to deserve a suspicion, that the extent of the work was to bemeasured by the patience of its readers. But he thinks it necessary, in order to elucidate the whole, to subjoin a note of the followingfacts. 

Mr. B. (after the affair which took date at the masquerade, andconcluded so happily) continued to be one of the best and mostexemplary of men, an honour to his country, both in his public andprivate capacity; having, at the instances of some of his friends invery elevated stations, accepted of an honourable employment abroadin the service of the state; which he discharged in such a manner, asmight be expected from his qualifications and knowledge of the world:and on his return, after an absence of three years, resisting all thetemptations of ambition, devoted himself to private duties, and joinedwith his excellent lady in every pious wish of her heart; adorning themarried life with all the warmth of an elegant tenderness; beloved byhis tenants, respected by his neighbours, revered by his children, andalmost adored by the poor, in every county where his estates gave himinterest, as well for his own bountiful temper, as for the charitieshe permitted to be dispensed, with so liberal a hand, by his lady. 

She made him the father of seven fine children, five sons, and twodaughters, all adorned and accomplished by nature, to be the joy anddelight of such parents; being educated, in every respect, by therules of their inimitable mother, laid down in that book which shementions to have been written by her for the revisal and correctionof her consort; the contents of which may be gathered from her remarksupon Mr. Locke's Treatise on Education, in her letters to Mr. B. , andin those to Lady G. 

Miss GOODWIN, at the age of eighteen, was married to a young gentlemanof fine parts, and great sobriety and virtue: and both she and he, inevery material part of their conduct, and in their behaviour to oneanother, emulate the good example set them by Mr. And Mrs. B. 

Lord DAVERS dying two years before this marriage, his lady went toreside at the Hall in Lincolnshire, the place of her birth, that shemight enjoy the company and conversation of her excellent sister; who, for conveniency 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 (in the strictest friendship withthe happy pair) an honourable relict of her affectionate lord. 

The worthy Mr. ANDREWS, and his wife, lived together in the sweettranquillity set forth in their letters, for the space of twelveyears, at the Kentish farm: the good old gentlewoman died first, fullof years and comfort, her dutiful daughter performing the last piousoffices to so beloved and so loving a parent: her husband survived herabout a year only. 

Lady G. , Miss DARNFORD that was, after a happy marriage of severalyears, died in child-bed of her fourth child, to the inexpressibleconcern of her affectionate consort, and of her dear friend Mrs. B. 

Lord H. , after having suffered great dishonour by the ill courses ofhis wife, and great devastations in his estate, through her formerdebts, and continued extravagance (intimidated and dispirited byher perpetual insults, and those of her gaming brother, who with hisbullying friends, terrified him into their measures), threw himselfupon the protection of Mr. B. Who, by his spirit and prudence, savedhim from utter ruin, punished his wife's accomplices, and obliged herto accept a separate maintenance; and then taking his affairs into hisown management, in due course of time, entirely re-established them:and after some years his wife dying, he became wiser by his pastsufferings, and married a second, of Lady Davers's recommendation, who, by her prudence and virtue, made him happy for the remainder ofhis days. 

Mr. LONGMAN lived to a great age in the worthy family, much esteemedby every one, having trained up a diligent youth, whom he hadrecommended, to ease him in his business, and who, answeringexpectation, succeeded him in it after his death. 

He dying rich, out of his great love and gratitude to the family, inwhose service he had acquired most of his fortune, and in disgustto his nearest relations, who had perversely disobliged him; hebequeathed to three of them one hundred pounds a-piece, and left allthe rest to his honoured principal, Mr. B. ; who, as soon as he came toknow it, being at that time abroad, directed his lady to call togetherthe relations of the old gentleman, and, after touching them to theheart with a just and effectual reproof, and finding them filledwith due sense of their demerit, which had been the cause of theirsuffering, then to divide the whole, which had been left him, amongthem, in greater proportions as they were more nearly related: anaction worthy prayers and blessings, not only of the benefited, butall who heard of it. For it is easy to imagine, how cheerfully, andhow gracefully, his benevolent lady discharged a command so wellsuited to her natural generosity. 

THE END