Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded

As he had done speaking, the dean himself complimented me, that the behaviour of so worthy a lady, would be very edifying to his congregation, and encouraging to himself. Sir, said I, you are very kind: I hope I shall not behave unworthy of the good instructions I shall have the pleasure to receive from so worthy a divine. He bowed, and went on.

Sir Thomas then applied to me, my master stepping into the chariot, and said, I beg pardon, madam, for detaining your good spouse from you: but I have been saying, he is the happiest man in the world. I bowed to him, but I could have wished him further, to make me sit so in the notice of every one; which, for all I could do, dashed me not a little. Mr. Martin said to my master, If you’ll come to church every Sunday with your charming lady, I will never absent myself, and she’ll give a good example to all the neighbourhood. O, my dear sir! said I to my master, you know not how much I am obliged to good Mr. Martin! He has, by his kind expressions, made me dare to look up with pleasure and gratitude.

Said my master, My dear love, I am very much obliged, as well as you, to my good friend Mr. Martin. And he said to him, We will constantly go to church, and to every other place, where we can have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Martin.

Mr. Martin said, Gad, sir, you are a happy man; and I think your lady’s example has made you more polite and handsome too, than I ever knew you before, though we never thought you unpolite, neither. And so he bowed, and went to his own chariot; and, as we drove away, the people kindly blessed us, and called us a charming pair.

As I have no other pride, I hope, in repeating these things, than in the countenance the general approbation gives to my dear master, for his stooping so low, you will excuse me for it, I know.

In the afternoon we went again to church, and a little early, at my request; but the church was quite full, and soon after even crowded; so much does novelty (the more’s the pity!) attract the eyes of mankind. Mr. Martin came in after us, and made up to our seat; and said, If you please, my dear friend, I will take my seat with you this afternoon. With all my heart, said my master. I was sorry for it; but was resolved my duty should not be made second to bashfulness, or any other consideration; and when divine service began, I withdrew to the farther end of the pew, and left the gentlemen in the front, and they behaved quite suitably, both of them, to the occasion. I mention this the rather, because Mr. Martin was not very noted for coming to church, or attention when there, before.

The dean preached again, which he was not used to do, out of compliment to us; and an excellent sermon he made on the relative duties of Christianity: And it took my particular attention; for he made many fine observations on the subject. Mr. Martin addressed himself twice or thrice to me, during the sermon; but he saw me so wholly engrossed with hearkening to the good preacher, that he forbore interrupting me; yet I took care, according to the lessons formerly given me, to observe to him a cheerful and obliging behaviour, as one of Mr. B–‘s friends and intimates. My master asked him to give him his company to supper; and he said, I am so taken with your lady, that you must not give me too much encouragement; for I shall be always with you, if you do. He was pleased to say, You cannot favour us with too much of your company; and as I have left you in the lurch in your single state, I think you will do well to oblige us as much as you can; and who knows but my happiness may reform another rake? Who knows? said Mr. Martin: Why, I know; for I am more than half reformed already.

At the chariot door, Mrs. Arthur, Mrs. Brooks, and Mrs. Chambers, were brought to me, by their respective spouses; and presently the witty Lady Towers, who bantered me before, (as I once told you,) joined them; and Mrs. Arthur said, she wished me joy; and that all the good ladies, my neighbours, would collect themselves together, and make me a visit. This, said I, will be an honour, madam, that I can never enough acknowledge. It will be very kind so to countenance a person who will always study to deserve your favour, by the most respectful behaviour.

Lady Towers said, My dear neighbour, you want no countenance; your own merit is sufficient. I had a slight cold, that kept me at home in the morning; but I heard you so much talked of, and praised, that I resolved not to stay away in the afternoon; and I join in the joy every one gives you. She turned to my master, and said, You are a sly thief, as I always thought you. Where have you stolen this lady? And now, how barbarous is it, thus unawares, in a manner, to bring her here upon us, to mortify and eclipse us all?—You are very kind, madam, said he, that you and all my worthy neighbours see with my eyes. But had I not known she had so much excellency of mind and behaviour, as would strike every body in her favour at first sight, I should not have dared to class her with such of my worthy neighbours, as now so kindly congratulate us both.

I own, said she, softly, I was one of your censurers; but I never liked you so well in my life, as for this action, now I see how capable your bride is of giving distinction to any condition.—And, coming to me, My dear neighbour, said she, excuse me for having but in my thought, the remembrance that I have seen you formerly, when, by your sweet air and easy deportment, you so much surpass us all, and give credit to your present happy condition.

Dear good madam, said I, how shall I suitably return my acknowledgments! But it will never be a pain to me to look back upon my former days, now I have the kind allowance and example of so many worthy ladies to support me in the honours to which the most generous of men has raised me.

Sweetly said! she was pleased to say. If I was in another place, I would kiss you for that answer. Oh! happy, happy Mr. B–! said she to my master; what reputation have you not brought upon your judgment! I won’t be long before I see you, added she, I’ll assure you, if I come by myself. That shall be your own fault, madam, said Mrs. Brooks.

And so they took leave; and I gave my hand to my dear master, and said, How happy have you made me, generous sir!—And the dean, who had just come up, heard me, and said, And how happy you have made your spouse, I’ll venture to pronounce, is hard to say, from what I observe of you both. I courtesied, and blushed, not thinking any body heard me. And my master telling him he should be glad of the honour of a visit from him; he said, He would pay his respects to us the first opportunity, and bring his wife and daughter to attend me. I said, That was doubly kind; and I should be very proud of cultivating so worthy an acquaintance. I thanked him for his kind discourse; and he thanked me for my attention, which he called exemplary: and so my dear master handed me into the chariot; and we were carried home, both happy, and both pleased, thank God.

Mr. Martin came in the evening, with another gentleman, his friend, one Mr. Dormer; and he entertained us with the favourable opinion, he said, every one had of me, and of the choice my good benefactor had made.

This morning the poor came, according to my invitation; and I sent them away with glad hearts to the number of twenty-five. There were not above twelve or fourteen on Sunday, that John divided the silver among, which I gave him for that purpose; but others got hold of the matter, and made up to the above number.

Tuesday.

My generous master has given me, this morning, a most considerate, but yet, from the nature of it, melancholy instance of his great regard for my unworthiness, which I never could have wished, hoped for, or even thought of.

He took a walk with me, after breakfast, into the garden; and a little shower falling, he led me, for shelter, into the little summer-house, in the private garden, where he formerly gave me apprehensions; and, sitting down by me, he said, I have now finished all that lies on my mind, my dear, and am very easy: For have you not wondered, that I have so much employed myself in my library? Been so much at home, and yet not in your company?—No, sir, said I; I have never been so impertinent as to wonder at any thing you please to employ yourself about; nor would give way to a curiosity that should be troublesome to you: And, besides, I know your large possessions; and the method you take of looking yourself into your affairs, must needs take up so much of your time, that I ought to be very careful how I intrude upon you.

Well, said he, but I’ll tell you what has been my last work I have taken it into my consideration, that, at present, my line is almost extinct; and that the chief part of my maternal estate, in case I die without issue, will go to another line, and great part of my personal will fall into such hands, as I shall not care my Pamela should be at the mercy of. I have, therefore, as human life is uncertain, made such a disposition of my affairs, as will make you absolutely independent and happy; as will secure to you the power of doing a great deal of good, and living as a person ought to do, who is my relict; and shall put it out of any body’s power to molest your father and mother, in the provision I design them, for the remainder of their days: And I have finished all this very morning, except to naming trustees for you; and if you have any body you would confide in more than another, I would have you speak.

I was so touched with this mournful instance of his excessive goodness to me, and the thoughts necessarily flowing from the solemn occasion, that I was unable to speak; and at last relieved my mind by a violent fit of weeping; and could only say, clasping my arms around the dear generous man, How shall I support this! So very cruel, yet so very kind!

Don’t, my dear, said he, be concerned at what gives me pleasure. I am not the nearer my end, for having made this disposition; but I think the putting off these material points, when so many accidents every day happen, and life is so precarious, is one of the most inexcusable things in the world. And there are many important points to be thought of, when life is drawing to its utmost verge; and the mind may be so agitated and unfit, that it is a most sad thing to put off, to that time, any of those concerns, which more especially require a considerate and composed frame of temper, and perfect health and vigour, to give directions about. My poor friend, Mr. Carlton, who died in my arms so lately; and had a mind disturbed by worldly considerations on one side; a weakness of body, through the violence of his distemper, on another; and the concerns of still as much more moment, as the soul is to the body, on a third; made so great an impression upon me then, that I was the more impatient to come to this house, where were most of my writings, in order to make the disposition I have now perfected: And since it is grievous to my dear girl, I will myself think of such trustees as shall be most for her benefit. I have only, therefore, to assure you, my dear, that in this instance, as I will do in any other I can think of, I have studied to make you quite easy, free, and independent. And because I shall avoid all occasions, for the future, which may discompose you, I have but one request to make; which is, that if it please God, for my sins, to separate me from my dearest Pamela, you will only resolve not to marry one person; for I would not be such a Herod, as to restrain you from a change of condition with any other, however reluctantly I may think of any other person’s succeeding me in your esteem.

I could not answer, and thought my heart would have burst: And he continued, To conclude at once a subject that is so grievous to you, I will tell you, my Pamela, that this person is Mr. Williams. And now I will acquaint you with my motive for this request; which is wholly owing to my niceness, and to no dislike I have for him, or apprehension of any likelihood that it will be so: but, methinks it would reflect a little upon my Pamela, if she was to give way to such a conduct, as if she had married a man for his estate, when she had rather have had another, had it not been for that; and that now, the world will say, she is at liberty to pursue her inclination, the parson is the man!—And I cannot bear even the most distant apprehension, that I had not the preference with you, of any man living, let me have been what I would, as I have shewn my dear life, that I have preferred her to all her sex, of whatever degree.

I could not speak, might I have had the world; and he took me in his arms, and said, I have now spoken all my mind, and expect no answer; and I see you too much moved to give me one. Only forgive me the mention, since I have told you my motive; which as much affects your reputation, as my niceness; and offer not at an answer;—only say, you forgive me: And I hope I have not one discomposing thing to say to my dearest, for the rest of my life; which I pray God, for both our sakes, to lengthen for many happy years.

Grief still choaked up the passage of my words; and he said, The shower is over, my dear: let us walk out again.—He led me out, and I would have spoken; but he said, I will not hear my dear creature say any thing! To hearken to your assurance of complying with my request, would look as if I doubted you, and wanted it. I am confident I needed only to speak my mind, to be observed by you; and I shall never more think on the subject, if you don’t remind me of it. He then most sweetly changed the discourse.

Don’t you with pleasure, my dear, said he, take in the delightful fragrance that this sweet shower has given to these banks of flowers? Your presence is so enlivening to me, that I could almost fancy, that what we owe to the shower, is owing to that: And all nature, methinks, blooms around me when I have my Pamela by my side. You are a poetess, my dear; and I will give you a few lines, that I made myself on such an occasion as this I am speaking of, the presence of a sweet companion, and the fresh verdure, that, after a shower, succeeding a long drought, shewed itself throughout all vegetable nature. And then, in a sweet and easy accent, (with his dear arms about me as we walked,) he sung me the following verses; of which he afterwards favoured me with a copy:

I

All nature blooms when you appear;
The fields their richest liv’ries wear;
Oaks, elms, and pines, blest with your view,
Shoot out fresh greens, and bud anew.
The varying seasons you supply;
And, when you’re gone, they fade and die.

II

Sweet Philomel, in mournful strains,
To you appeals, to you complains.
The tow’ring lark, on rising wing,
Warbles to you, your praise does sing;
He cuts the yielding air, and flies
To heav’n, to type your future joys.

III

The purple violet, damask rose,
Each, to delight your senses, blows.
The lilies ope’, as you appear;
And all the beauties of the year
Diffuse their odours at your feet,
Who give to ev’ry flow’r its sweet.

IV

For flow’rs and women are allied;
Both, nature’s glory, and her pride!
Of ev’ry fragrant sweet possest,
They bloom but for the fair one’s breast,
And to the swelling bosom borne,
Each other mutually adorn.

Thus sweetly did he palliate the woes, which the generosity of his actions, mixed with the solemness of the occasion, and the strange request he had vouchsafed to make me, had occasioned. And all he would permit me to say, was, that I was not displeased with him!—Displeased with you, dearest sir! said I: Let me thus testify my obligations, and the force all your commands shall have upon me. And I took the liberty to clasp my arms about his neck, and kissed him.

But yet my mind was pained at times, and has been to this hour.—God grant that I may never see the dreadful moment, that shall shut up the precious life of this excellent, generous benefactor of mine! And—but I cannot bear to suppose—I cannot say more on such a deep subject.

Oh! what a poor thing is human life in its best enjoyments! subjected to imaginary evils, when it has no real ones to disturb it; and that can be made as effectually unhappy by its apprehensions of remote contingencies, as if it was struggling with the pangs of a present distress! This, duly reflected upon, methinks, should convince every one, that this world is not a place for the immortal mind to be confined to; and that there must be an hereafter, where the whole soul shall be satisfied.

But I shall get out of my depth; my shallow mind cannot comprehend, as it ought, these weighty subjects: Let me only therefore pray, that, after having made a grateful use of God’s mercies here, I may, with my dear benefactor, rejoice in that happy state, where is no mixture, no unsatisfiedness; and where all is joy, and peace, and love, for evermore!

I said, when we sat at supper, The charming taste you gave me, sir, of your poetical fancy, makes me sure you have more favours of this kind to delight me with, if you please; and may I beg to be indulged on this agreeable head? Hitherto, said he, my life has been too much a life of gayety and action, to be busied so innocently. Some little essays I have now and then attempted; but very few have I completed. Indeed I had not patience nor attention enough to hold me long to any one thing. Now and then, perhaps, I may occasionally shew you what I have essayed. But I never could please myself in this way.

Friday.

We were yesterday favoured with the company of almost all the neighbouring gentlemen and their ladies, who, by appointment with one another, met to congratulate our happiness. Nothing could be more obliging, more free and affectionate, than the ladies; nothing more polite than the gentlemen. All was performed (for they came to supper) with decency and order, and much to every one’s satisfaction; which was principally owing to good Mrs. Jervis’s care and skill; who is an excellent manager.