Pamela

by Samuel Richardson

  ‘I hope, Mr Andrews,’ said he to my father, ‘you will not leave us till you see the happy solemnity over, and then you will be sure I mean honourably; and besides, Pamela will be thereby induced to give me an early day.’ ‘O sir,’ said he, ‘I bless God, I have no reason to doubt your honourable meaning; and I hope you will excuse me, if I set out on Monday morning, very early, to my wife, for I am impatient to make her as happy as I am myself.’

  ‘Why, Pamela,’ said my master, ‘may not the ceremony be performed on Tuesday, and then your father, perhaps, will stay? I should have been glad to have had it to-morrow,’ added he; ‘but I have sent Colbrand for a licence, that you may not have the shadow of a scruple remaining; and he cannot be back here tomorrow night, or Monday morning.’

  This was most agreeable news. My father urging me to second his desire to return to you, my mother, I said, ‘Sir, I know my father will want to be at home: and as you were pleased to give me a fortnight from last Thursday, I should be glad you would indulge me still to some day in the second seven.’

  ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I will not be too urgent; but the sooner you fix, the more obliging I shall think you. Mr Andrews, we must leave something to these Jephtha’s daughters,249 in these cases. I suppose, the little bashful folly, which, in the happiest circumstances, may give a kind of regret to a thoughtful mind, on quitting the maiden state, is a reason with Pamela; and so she shall name her day.’

  As we sat at breakfast, my master was pleased to order the coach, and said he would give me and my father an airing. ‘And do you, Pamela,’ said he, ‘go up and dress yourself, as heretofore.’

  My father, dear man! looking upon himself, now on this side, now on that, because of his mean appearance, begged to be excused. But my master would have it so.

  I went up soon after; and, in obedience to my master’s commands, took possession, in a happy moment, I hope, of my two bundles, as my good master was pleased to call them, (alluding to my former division of those good things my lady and himself had bestowed upon me) and so put on fine linen, silk shoes, and fine white cotton stockings, a handsome quilted petticoat, a rich green Mantua silk gown and coat; a French necklace, and a laced cambric handkerchief, and clean gloves; and taking my fan in my hand, I, like a proud hussey, looked in the glass, and was ready to think myself a gentlewoman; but I forgot not to return due thanks, for being able to put on this dress with so light a heart.

  Mrs Jewkes would help to dress me, and complimented me highly, saying, among other things, That now I looked like her lady indeed! And, as she said, the little chapel was ready, and Divine Service would be read in it to-morrow, she wished the happy knot might then be tied. ‘Have you not seen the chapel, madam,’ said she, ‘since it has been cleared out?’ ‘No,’ said I; ‘but are we to have service in it to-morrow, do you say? I am glad of that; for I have been a sad heathen lately, sore against my will! But who is to officiate?’ ‘Somebody,’ replied she, ‘Mr Peters will send.’ ‘You tell me very good news,’ said I, ‘Mrs Jewkes. I hope it will never be a lumber-room again.’ ‘Ay,’ said she, ‘I can tell you more good news; for the two Miss Darnfords, and Mrs Jones, are to be here at the opening of it; and will stay and dine with you.’ ‘My master,’ said I, ‘has not told me that.’ ‘You must alter your style, madam,’ replied she. ‘It must not be master now, sure!’ ‘O,’ returned I, ‘that is a language I shall never forget. He shall always be my master; and I shall think myself more and more his servant.’

  My father did not know I went up to dress myself; and, when first he saw me afterwards, he stood in admiration,250 and said, ‘O my dear child, how well will you become your happy condition! Why, you look like a lady already!’ ‘I hope, my dear father,’ said I, and boldly kissed him, ‘I shall always be your dutiful daughter, whatever my condition be.’

  My master sent me word he was ready; and when he saw me, said, ‘Dress as you will, Pamela, you are a charming girl’; and handed me to the coach, and would make my father and me sit both on the fore side; and sat backwards over-against me; and bid the coachman drive to the meadow; that is, where he once met Mr Williams.

  The conversation was most agreeable to me, and to my father, as we went; and he more and more exceeded in goodness and generosity. And what do you think? Why, while I was gone up to dress, he presented my father with twenty guineas; desiring him to buy himself and my mother such apparel as they should think proper; and lay it all out. But I knew not this till after we came home; my father having had no opportunity of telling me of it.

  He was pleased to inform me of the chapel being got in tolerable order; and said it looked very well; and against he came down next, it should be all new white-washed, and painted, and lined;251 and a new pulpit-cloth, cushion, desk, &c. and that it should always be kept in order for the future. He told me, the two Miss Darnfords, and Mrs Jones, would dine with him on Sunday. ‘And with their servants and mine,’ said he, ‘we shall make a tolerable congregation. And,’ added he, ‘have I not well contrived, to shew you, that the chapel is really a house of God, and has been consecrated before we solemnize our nuptials in it?’ ‘O sir,’ replied I, ‘your goodness to me is inexpressible!’ ‘Mr Peters,’ said he, ‘offered to come and officiate in it; but would not stay to dine with me, because he is to have company at his own house; and so I intend that Divine Service shall be performed in it, by one to whom I shall make a yearly allowance, as my chaplain! You look serious, Pamela,’ added he: ‘I know you think of your friend Williams.’ ‘Indeed, sir,’ said I, ‘if you won’t be angry, I did. Poor man! I am sorry I have been the cause of his disobliging you.’

  When we came to the meadow, where the gentry have sometimes their walk, the coach stopped, and my master alighted, and led me to the brook-side; and it was a very pretty summer walk. He asked my father, if he chose to walk out, or go on in the coach to the further end? He, poor man, chose to go on in the coach, For fear, he said, any gentry should be walking there; and he told me, that he spent every moment of his time in the coach in thanking God for his mercies to us, and in begging for a blessing upon my master and me.

  I was quite astonished, when we came into the shady walk, to see Mr Williams there. ‘See there,’ said my master, ‘there’s poor Williams, taking his solitary walk again, with his book.’ And it seems it was so contrived; for Mr Peters had been, as I since find, desired to tell him to be in that walk at such an hour in the morning.

  ‘So, old acquaintance,’ said my master, ‘again have I met you in this place? What book are you now reading?’ He said, It was Boileau’s Lutrin.252 ‘You see,’ said my master, ‘I have brought with me my little fugitive, that would have been: while you are perfecting yourself in French, I am trying to learn honest English; and hope soon to be master of it.’

  ‘Mine, sir,’ said he, ‘is a very beautiful piece of French: but your English has no equal.’

  ‘You are very polite, Mr Williams,’ said my master. ‘But, Pamela, why so strange, where you have once been so well acquainted? I do assure you both, that I mean not, by this interview, to abash Mr Williams, or to reproach you.’

  Then I said, ‘Mr Williams, I am very glad to see you; and (though the generous favour of my master has happily changed the scene, since you and I last saw each other) to have this opportunity to acknowledge, with gratitude, your good intentions, not so much to serve me, as me, but as a person, who then had great reason to believe herself in distress.’

  ‘You, Pamela,’ said my master, ‘may make what acknowledgments you please to Mr Williams’s good intentions; and I would have you speak as you think; but I do not apprehend myself to be quite so much obliged to those intentions.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Mr Williams, ‘I beg leave to say, that knowing your good sense, and worthy education, I had great hopes, that when you came to reflect, you would not be displeased with me, for endeavouring to serve and to save an innocence, of which there are not many examples.’

  ‘Recrimination, Mr Williams,’ replied m
y master, ‘is not my intent.253 Pamela knew not that she should see you here; and now you are both present, I would ask you, sir, if, now you know my honourable designs towards this good girl, you can really be almost, I will not say quite, as well pleased with the friendship of my wife, as you could have been with the favour of Mrs Andrews?’

  ‘Sir,’ replied he, ‘I will answer you truly. I think I could have preferred with her any condition of life, however low, had I considered only myself. But, sir, I had not the least encouragement from her; and had far greater reason to believe, that if she could have hoped for your goodness, her heart would have been too much pre-engaged, to think of any body else. And give me leave further to say, sir, that though I tell you sincerely my thoughts, were I only to consider myself; yet when I consider her good, I should be highly ungenerous, were it put to my choice, if I could not wish her in a condition so greatly superior, and so very answerable to her merit.’

  ‘Pamela,’ said my master, ‘you are obliged to Mr Williams, and ought to thank him: he has distinguished well. But as for me, who had like to have lost you by his means, I am glad the matter was not left to his choice. Mr Williams,’ said he, ‘I give you Pamela’s hand, in token of her friendship and esteem for you; and I give you mine, with an assurance that I will not be your enemy.’

  Mr Williams kissed my hand; and my master said, ‘Sir, you will go home and dine with me, and I will shew you my little chapel; and let me wish you, Pamela, to number Mr Williams in the list of your chosen friends.’

  Mr Williams had tears of pleasure in his eyes. I was silent: but Mr Williams said, ‘Sir, I shall be taught by your generosity, to think that I have been inexcusably wrong, in every step I took, that could give you offence; and my future life shall shew my respectful gratitude.’

  We walked on till we came to the coach, where was my father. ‘Pamela,’ said my master, ‘tell Mr Williams who that good man is. ‘O Mr Williams!’ said I, ‘it is my father’; and my master was pleased to say, ‘One of the honestest men in England. Pamela owes every thing that she is to be, as well as her being, to him; for, I think, she would not have brought me to this, but for the good lessons, and religious education, she had received from him.’

  Mr Williams, taking my father’s hand, as he sat in the coach, before he entered it himself, said, ‘You contemplate, good Mr Andrews, with inexpressible pleasure, no doubt, the fruits of your pious care; and now are in a way, with your beloved daughter, to reap the happy effects of it.’ ‘I am overcome,’ said my dear father, ‘with his honour’s goodness. But I can only say, I bless God, and bless him.’

  Mr Williams and I being nearer the coach than my master, and he offering to draw back, to give way to him, he kindly said, ‘Pray, Mr Williams, oblige Pamela with your hand; and then step in yourself.’ He bowed, and took my hand, and stept in, my master making him sit forwards next me.

  ‘Mr Andrews,’ said my master, as he stept in himself, ‘I told you yesterday, that the Divine you saw, was not Mr Williams; I now tell you, this gentleman is: and though I have been telling him, I think not myself obliged to his intentions; yet I will own, that Pamela and you are; and I would have you love him.’

  ‘Sir,’ said Mr Williams, ‘you have a way of over-coming, that hardly all my reading affords an instance of the like; and it is the more noble, as it is on this side, as I presume, the happy ceremony; which, great as your fortune is, will lay you under an obligation to so much virtue and beauty, when the lady becomes yours; for you will then have a treasure that princes might envy you for.’

  ‘Mr Williams,’ replied my generous master, (God bless him!) ‘it is impossible that you and I should live at variance, when our sentiments agree so well together, on subjects the most material.’

  Then taking my hand, ‘Collect yourself, and look up, my good girl,’ said he; ‘and don’t injure Mr Williams and me so much, as to think we are capping compliments, as we used to do verses,254 at school. I dare answer for him, as well as for myself, that we say not a syllable we don’t think.’

  ‘O sir,’ said I, ‘how unequal am I to all this goodness! Every moment that passes, adds to the weight of the obligations you oppress me with.’

  ‘Think not too much of that,’ said he, most generously. ‘Mr Williams’s compliments to you, have great advantage of mine: for, though equally sincere, I have a great deal to say, and to do, to compensate your sufferings; and, at last, must sit down dissatisfied, because those will never be balanced by all I can do for you.’

  He saw my father quite unable to support these affecting instances of his goodness; and he let go my hand, and took his; and said, seeing his tears, ‘I wonder not, my dear Pamela’s father, that your honest heart thus shews itself at your eyes, to see all your daughter’s trials at an end. I will not pretend to say, that I had formerly either power or will to act thus. But I have reaped so much pleasure from my present way of thinking, that my own interest will keep me steady. Indeed I knew not, till within these few days, what it was to be happy.’

  ‘How happily, sir,’ said Mr Williams, tears of joy in his eyes, ‘have you been touched by the Divine Grace, before you were hurried into the commission of sins, that the deepest penitence could hardly have atoned for! God has enabled you to stop short of the evil; and you have nothing to do, but to rejoice in the good, which now will be doubly so, because you can receive it without the least inward reproach.’

  ‘You say well,’ replied my master: ‘and I hope from the good example of my dear girl here, and from your friendship, Mr Williams, in time, to be half as good as my tutoress. And that,’ said he, ‘I believe, you will own, will make me, without disparagement to any man, the best fox-hunter in England.’

  Mr Williams was going to speak: and he said, ‘You put on so grave a look, Mr Williams, that, I believe, what I have said, with you practical good folks, is liable to exception: but I see we were become quite grave; and we must not be too serious neither.’

  What a happy creature, my dear mother, is your Pamela! I shall never enough acknowledge the value he is pleased to express for my unworthiness, and in particular, that he has prevented255 my wishes, and, unasked, sought the occasion of being reconciled to a good man, who, for my sake, had incurred his displeasure; and whose name he could not, a few days before, permit to pass through my lips: but see the wonderful ways of Providence! The sight of the very things that I most dreaded he should see or know, that is to say, the contents of my papers, has, I hope, satisfied all his scruples, and been a means to secure my happiness. Let me lay down my pen, and meditate.

  In the agreeable manner I have mentioned, did we pass the time in our second happy airing. But Mrs Jewkes seemed ready to sink into the ground, when she saw Mr Williams brought in the coach with us, and treated so kindly.

  We dined together in a most pleasant, easy, and frank manner; and I found I needed not, from my master’s generosity, to be under any restraint, as to my conduct to this good clergyman; for as often as he fancied I was reserved, he urged me to shew civilities and care of Mr Williams.

  After dinner, we went and looked into the chapel, which is a very pretty one, and very decent.

  My heart, my dear mother, when I first set my foot in it, throbbed a good deal, with awful joy, at the thoughts of the solemnity, which I hope will, in a few days, be performed in it. And when I came up towards the little pretty altar-piece, while they were looking at a communion-picture, and saying it was prettily done, I gently stepped into a corner, out of sight, and poured out my soul to God in thankfulness, that, after having been so long absent from Divine Service, the first time that I entered into a house dedicated to his honour, should be with such blessed prospects before me; and begging of God to continue me humble, and to make me not unworthy of his, mercies; and that he would be pleased to bless the next author of my happiness, my good master.

  My master, just as I joined the company, said to Mr Williams, ‘You will not, I hope, sir, refuse to give us your instructions here to-morrow. Mr P
eters was so kind to offer to officiate; but I knew it would be inconvenient for him; and besides, I was willing to make this request to you as a token of a thorough reconciliation on my part.’

  ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘most willingly, and most gratefully, will I obey you: though if you expect a discourse, I am wholly unprepared for the occasion.’ ‘I would not have it,’ replied my master, ‘pointed to any particular occasion; but if you have one upon the text, “There is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-nine just persons that need no repentance” ;256 and if it draws not upon me the eyes of my own servants, and those of the ladies we shall have here, I shall be content. I mention this text, as it is an usual one with the gentlemen of your cloth; but any one you have at hand will do.’

  ‘I have one upon that very text, sir,’ replied Mr Williams; ‘but I think, that a thanksgiving one, which I made on a great mercy to myself, if I may be permitted to make my own acknowledgments of your favour the subject of a discourse, will be suitable to my grateful sentiments. It is on the text, “Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.”’257

  ‘That text,’ said I, ‘will be a very suitable one for me.’

  ‘Not so, Pamela,’ said my master; ‘because I don’t let you depart.’

  ‘But, sir,’ said I, ‘I have seen God’s salvation! I am sure, if ever any body had reason, I have, to say, with the blessed Virgin, “My soul doth magnify the Lord; for he hath regarded the low estate of his hand-maiden, and exalted one of low degree.”’ 258