Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded
cleared your part of this matter up to me by a line or two; and when I
had known what seeming good grounds you had for pouring cold water on a
young flame, that was just then rising to an honourable expansion,
should not have imputed it, as I was apt to do, to unseasonable insult
for my tenderness to you, on one hand; to perverse nicety, on the
other; or to (what I was most alarmed by, and concerned for)
prepossession for some other person: And this would have saved us both
much fatigue, I of mind, you of body.
And, indeed, sir, said I, of mind too; and I could not better manifest
this, than by the cheerfulness with which I obeyed your recalling me to
your presence.
Ay, that, my dear Pamela, said he, and clasped me in his arms, was the
kind, the inexpressibly kind action, that has rivetted my affections to
you, and obliges me, in this free and unreserved manner, to pour my
whole soul into your bosom.
I said, I had the less merit in this my return, because I was driven,
by an irresistible impulse to it; and could not help it, if I would.
This, said he, (and honoured me by kissing my hand,) is engaging,
indeed; if I may hope, that my Pamela’s gentle inclination for her
persecutor was the strongest motive to her return; and I so much value
a voluntary love in the person I would wish for my wife, that I would
have even prudence and interest hardly named in comparison with it: And
can you return me sincerely the honest compliment I now make you?—In
the choice I have made, it is impossible I should have any view to my
interest. Love, true love, is the only motive by which I am induced.
And were I not what I am, could you give me the preference to any other
you know in the world, notwithstanding what has passed between us? Why,
said I, should your so much obliged Pamela refuse to answer this kind
question? Cruel as I have thought you, and dangerous as your views to
my honesty have been; you, sir, are the only person living that ever
was more than indifferent to me: and before I knew this to be what I
blush now to call it, I could not hate you, or wish you ill, though,
from my soul, the attempts you made were shocking, and most distasteful
to me.
I am satisfied, my Pamela, said he; nor shall I want to see those
papers that you have kindly written for to your father; though I still
wish to see them too, for the sake of the sweet manner in which you
relate what has passed, and to have before me the whole series of your
sufferings, that I may learn what degree of kindness may be sufficient
to recompense you for them.
In this manner, my dear father and mother, did your happy daughter find
herself blessed by her generous master! An ample recompense for all her
sufferings did I think this sweet conversation only. A hundred tender
things he expressed besides, that though they never can escape my
memory, yet would be too tedious to write down. Oh, how I blessed God,
and, I hope, ever shall, for all his gracious favours to his unworthy
handmaid! What a happy change is this! And who knows but my kind, my
generous master, may put it in my power, when he shall see me not quite
unworthy of it, to be a means, without injuring him, to dispense around
me, to many persons, the happy influences of the condition to which I
shall be, by his kind favour, exalted? Doubly blest shall I be, in
particular, if I can return the hundredth part of the obligations I owe
to such honest good parents, to whose pious instructions and examples,
under God, I owe all my present happiness, and future prospects.—O the
joy that fills my mind on these proud hopes! on these delightful
prospects!—It is too mighty for me, and I must sit down to ponder all
these things, and to admire and bless the goodness of that Providence,
which has, through so many intricate mazes, made me tread the paths of
innocence, and so amply rewarded me for what it has itself enabled me
to do! All glory to God alone be ever given for it, by your poor
enraptured daughter!——
I will now continue my most pleasing relation.
As the chariot was returning home from this sweet airing, he said, From
all that has passed between us in this pleasing turn, my Pamela will
see, and will believe, that the trials of her virtue are all over from
me: But, perhaps, there will be some few yet to come of her patience
and humility. For I have, at the earnest importunity of Lady Darnford,
and her daughters, promised them a sight of my beloved girl: And so I
intend to have their whole family, and Lady Jones, and Mrs. Peters’s
family, to dine with me once in a few days. And, since I believe you
would hardly choose, at present, to grace the table on the occasion,
till you can do it in your own right, I should be glad you would not
refuse coming down to us if I should desire it; for I would preface our
nuptials, said the dear gentleman! O what a sweet word was that!—with
their good opinion of your merits: and to see you, and your sweet
manner, will be enough for that purpose; and so, by degrees, prepare my
neighbours for what is to follow: And they already have your character
from me, and are disposed to admire you.
Sir, said I, after all that has passed, I should be unworthy, if I
could not say, that I can have no will but yours: And however awkwardly
I shall behave in such company, weighed down with a sense of your
obligations on one side, and my own unworthiness, with their
observations on the other, I will not scruple to obey you.
I am obliged to you, Pamela, said he, and pray be only dressed as you
are; for since they know your condition, and I have told them the story
of your present dress, and how you came by it, one of the young ladies
begs it as a favour, that they may see you just as you are: and I am
the rather pleased it should be so, because they will perceive you owe
nothing to dress, but make a much better figure with your own native
stock of loveliness, than the greatest ladies arrayed in the most
splendid attire, and adorned with the most glittering jewels.
O sir, said I, your goodness beholds your poor servant in a light
greatly beyond her merit! But it must not be expected, that others,
ladies especially, will look upon me with your favourable eyes: but,
nevertheless, I should be best pleased to wear always this humble garb,
till you, for your own sake, shall order it otherwise: for, oh, sir,
said I, I hope it will be always my pride to glory most in your
goodness! and it will be a pleasure to me to shew every one, that, with
respect to my happiness in this life, I am entirely the work of your
bounty; and to let the world see from what a lowly original you have
raised me to honours, that the greatest ladies would rejoice in.
Admirable Pamela! said he; excellent girl!—Surely thy sentiments are
superior to those of all thy sex!—I might have addressed a hundred fine
ladies; but never, surely, could have had reason to admire one as I do
you.
As, my dear father and mother, I repeat these generous sayings, only
because they are the effect of my master’s goodness, being far from
presuming to think I deserve one of them; so I hope you will not
attribute it to my vanity; for I do assure you, I think I ought rather
to be more humble, as I am more obliged: for it must be always a sign
of a poor condition, to receive obligations one cannot repay; as it is
of a rich mind, when it can confer them without expecting or needing a
return. It is, on one side, the state of the human creature, compared,
on the other, to the Creator; and so, with due deference, may his
beneficence be said to be Godlike, and that is the highest that can be
said.
The chariot brought us home at near the hour of two; and, blessed be
God, my master is pure well, and cheerful; and that makes me hope he
does not repent him of his late generous treatment of me. He handed me
out of the chariot, and to the parlour, with the same goodness, that he
shewed when he put me into it, before several of the servants. Mrs.
Jewkes came to inquire how he did. Quite well, Mrs. Jewkes, said he;
quite well: I thank God, and this good girl, for it!—I am glad of it,
said she; but I hope you are not the worse for my care, and my
doctoring of you!—No, but the better, Mrs. Jewkes, said he; you have
much obliged me by both.
Then he said, Mrs. Jewkes, you and I have used this good girl very
hardly.—I was afraid, sir, said she, I should be the subject of her
complaints.—I assure you, said he, she has not opened her lips about
you. We have had a quite different subject to talk of; and I hope she
will forgive us both: You especially she must; because you have done
nothing but by my orders. But I only mean, that the necessary
consequence of those orders has been very grievous to my Pamela: And
now comes our part to make her amends, if we can.
Sir, said she, I always said to madam (as she called me), that you was
very good, and very forgiving. No, said he, I have been stark naught;
and it is she, I hope, will be very forgiving. But all this preamble is
to tell you, Mrs. Jewkes, that now I desire you’ll study to oblige her,
as much as (to obey me) you was forced to disoblige her before. And
you’ll remember, that in every thing she is to be her own mistress.
Yes, said she, and mine too, I suppose, sir? Ay, said the generous
gentleman, I believe it will be so in a little time.—Then, said she, I
know how it will go with me! And so put her handkerchief to her
eyes.—Pamela, said my master, comfort poor Mrs. Jewkes.
This was very generous, already to seem to put her in my power: and I
took her by the hand, and said, I shall never take upon me, Mrs.
Jewkes, to make a bad use of any opportunities that may be put into my
hands by my generous master; nor shall I ever wish to do you any
disservice, if I might: for I shall consider, that what you have done,
was in obedience to a will which it will become me also to submit to
and so, if the effects of our obedience may be different, yet as they
proceed from one cause, that must be always reverenced by me.
See there, Mrs. Jewkes, said my master, we are both in generous hands;
and indeed, if Pamela did not pardon you, I should think she but half
forgave me, because you acted by my instructions.—Well, said she, God
bless you both together, since it must be so; and I will double my
diligence to oblige my lady, as I find she will soon be.
O my dear father and mother! now pray for me on another score; for fear
I should grow too proud, and be giddy and foolish with all these
promising things, so soothing to the vanity of my years and sex. But
even to this hour can I pray, that God would remove from me all these
delightful prospects, if they were likely so to corrupt my mind, as to
make me proud and vain, and not acknowledge, with thankful humility,
the blessed Providence which has so visibly conducted me through the
dangerous paths I have trod, to this happy moment.
My master was pleased to say, that he thought I might as well dine with
him, since he was alone: But I begged he would excuse me, for fear, as
I said, such excess of goodness and condescension, all at once, should
turn my head;—and that he would, by slower degrees, bring on my
happiness, lest I should not know how to bear it.
Persons that doubt themselves, said he, seldom do amiss: And if there
was any fear of what you say, you could not have it in your thoughts:
for none but the presumptuous, the conceited, and the thoughtless, err
capitally. But, nevertheless, said he, I have such an opinion of your
prudence, that I shall generally think what you do right, because it is
you that do it.
Sir, said I, your kind expressions shall not be thrown away upon me, if
I can help it; for they will task me with the care of endeavouring to
deserve your good opinion, and your approbation, as the best rule of my
conduct.