Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded
not, my second shall be, if I can but know what you wish.
Did I say too much, my dearest parents, when I said, He was, if
possible, kinder and kinder?—O the blessed man! how my heart is
overwhelmed with his goodness!
Well, said he, my dearest, let me desire you to mention this to them,
to see if they approve it. But, if it be your choice, and theirs, to
have them nearer to you, or even under the same roof with you, I will
freely consent to it.
O no, sir, said I, (and I fear almost sinned in my grateful flight,) I
am sure they would not choose that; they could not, perhaps, serve God
so well if they were to live with you: For, so constantly seeing the
hand that blesses them, they would, it may be, as must be my care to
avoid, be tempted to look no further in their gratitude, than to the
dear dispenser of such innumerable benefits.
Excellent creature! said he: My beloved wants no language, nor
sentiments neither; and her charming thoughts, so sweetly expressed,
would grace any language; and this is a blessing almost peculiar to my
fairest.—Your so kind acceptance, my Pamela, added he, repays the
benefit with interest, and leaves me under obligation to your goodness.
But now, my dearest, I will tell you what we will do, with regard to
points of your own private charity; for far be it from me, to put under
that name the subject we have been mentioning; because that, and more
than that, is duty to persons so worthy, and so nearly related to my
Pamela, and, as such, to myself.—O how the sweet man outdoes me, in
thoughts, words, power, and every thing!
And this, said he, lies in very small compass; for I will allow you two
hundred pounds a year, which Longman shall constantly pay you, at fifty
pounds a quarter, for your own use, and of which I expect no account;
to commence from the day you enter into my other house: I mean, said
he, that the first fifty pounds shall then be due; because you shall
have something to begin with. And, added the dear generous man, if this
be pleasing to you, let it, since you say you want words, be signified
by such a sweet kiss as you gave me yesterday. I hesitated not a moment
to comply with these obliging terms, and threw my arms about his dear
neck, though in the chariot, and blessed his goodness to me. But,
indeed, sir, said I, I cannot bear this generous treatment! He was
pleased to say, Don’t be uneasy, my dear, about these trifles: God has
blessed me with a very good estate, and all of it in a prosperous
condition, and generally well tenanted. I lay up money every year, and
have, besides, large sums in government and other securities; so that
you will find, what I have hitherto promised, is very short of that
proportion of my substance, which, as my dearest wife, you have a right
to.
In this sweet manner did we pass our time till evening, when the
chariot brought us home; and then our supper succeeded in the same
agreeable manner. And thus, in a rapturous circle, the time moves on;
every hour bringing with it something more delightful than the
past!—Sure nobody was ever so blest as I!
Sunday, the fourth day of my happiness.
Not going to chapel this morning, the reason of which I told you, I
bestowed the time, from the hour of my beloved’s rising, to breakfast,
in prayer and thanksgiving, in my closet; and now I begin to be quite
easy, cheerful, and free in my spirits; and the rather, as I find
myself encouraged by the tranquillity, and pleasing vivacity, in the
temper and behaviour of my beloved, who thereby shews he does not
repent of his goodness to me.
I attended him to breakfast with great pleasure and freedom, and he
seemed quite pleased with me, and said, Now does my dearest begin to
look upon me with an air of serenity and satisfaction: it shall be
always, added he, my delight to give you occasion for this sweet
becoming aspect of confidence and pleasure in me.—My heart, dear sir,
said I, is quite easy, and has lost all its foolish tumults, which,
combating with my gratitude, might give an unacceptable appearance to
my behaviour: but now your goodness, sir, has enabled it to get the
better of its uneasy apprehensions, and my heart is all of one piece,
and devoted to you, and grateful tranquillity. And could I be so happy
as to see you and my good Lady Davers reconciled, I have nothing in
this world to wish for more, but the continuance of your favour. He
said, I wish this reconciliation, my dearest, as well as you: and I do
assure you, more for your sake than my own; and if she would behave
tolerably, I would make the terms easier to her, for that reason.
He said, I will lay down one rule for you, my Pamela, to observe in
your dress; and I will tell you every thing I like or dislike, as it
occurs to me: and I would have you do the same, on your part; that
nothing may be upon either of our minds that may occasion the least
reservedness.
I have often observed, in married folks, that, in a little while, the
lady grows careless in her dress; which, to me, looks as if she would
take no pains to secure the affection she had gained; and shews a
slight to her husband, that she had not to her lover. Now, you must
know, this has always given me great offence; and I should not forgive
it, even in my Pamela: though she would have this excuse for herself,
that thousands could not make, That she looks lovely in every thing.
So, my dear, I shall expect of you always to be dressed by dinner-time,
except something extraordinary happens; and this, whether you are to go
abroad, or stay at home. For this, my love, will continue to you that
sweet ease in your dress and behaviour, which you are so happy a
mistress of; and whomsoever I bring home with me to my table, you’ll be
in readiness to receive them; and will not want to make those foolish
apologies to unexpected visitors, that carry with them a reflection on
the conduct of those who make them; and, besides, will convince me,
that you think yourself obliged to appear as graceful to your husband,
as you would to persons less familiar to your sight.
This, dear sir, said I, is a most obliging injunction; and I most
heartily thank you for it, and will always take care to obey it.—Why,
my dear, said he, you may better do this than half your sex; because
they too generally act in such a manner, as if they seemed to think it
the privilege of birth and fortune, to turn day into night, and night
into day, and are seldom stirring till it is time to sit down to
dinner; and so all the good old family rules are reversed: For they
breakfast, when they should dine; dine, when they should sup; and sup,
when they should go to bed; and, by the help of dear quadrille,
sometimes go to bed when they should rise.—In all things but these, my
dear, continued he, I expect you to be a lady. And my good mother was
one of this oldfashioned cut, and, in all other respects, as worthy a
lady as any in the kingdom. And so you have not been used to the new
way, and may the easier practise the other.
Dear sir, said I, pray give me more of your sweet injunctions. Why
then, continued he, I shall, in the usual course, and generally, if not
hindered by company, like to go to bed with my dearest by eleven; and,
if I don’t, shan’t hinder you. I ordinarily now rise by six in summer.
I will allow you to be half an hour after me, or so.
Then you’ll have some time you may call your own, till you give me your
company to breakfast; which may be always so, as that we may have done
at a little after nine.
Then will you have several hours again at your disposal, till two
o’clock, when I shall like to sit down at table.
You will then have several useful hours more to employ yourself in, as
you shall best like; and I would generally go to supper by eight; and
when we are resolved to stick to these oldfashioned rules, as near as
we can, we shall have our visitors conform to them too, and expect them
from us, and suit themselves accordingly: For I have always observed,
that it is in every one’s power to prescribe rules to himself. It is
only standing a few ridiculous jests at first, and that too from such,
generally, as are not the most worthy to be minded; and, after a while,
they will say, It signifies nothing to ask him: he will have his own
way. There is no putting him out of his bias. He is a regular piece of
clock-work, they will joke, and all that: And why, my dear, should we
not be so? For man is as frail a piece of machinery as any clock-work
whatever; and, by irregularity, is as subject to be disordered.
Then, my dear, continued the charming man, when they see they are
received, at my own times, with an open countenance and cheerful heart;
when they see plenty and variety at my board, and meet a kind and
hearty welcome from us both; they will not offer to break in upon my
conditions, nor grudge me my regular hours: And as most of these people
have nothing to do, except to rise in a morning, they may as well come
to breakfast with us at half an hour after eight, in summer, as at ten
or eleven; to dinner at two, as at four, five, or six; and to supper at
eight, as at ten or eleven. And then our servants, too, will know,
generally, the times of their business, and the hours of their leisure
or recess; and we, as well as they, shall reap the benefits of this
regularity. And who knows, my dear, but we may revive the good
oldfashion in our neighbourhood, by this means?—At least it will be
doing our parts towards it; and answering the good lesson I learned at
school, Every one mend one. And the worst that will happen will be,
that when some of my brother rakes, such as those who broke in upon us,
so unwelcomely, last Thursday, are got out of the way, if that can ever
be, and begin to consider who they shall go to dine with in their
rambles, they will only say, We must not go to him, for his dinner-time
is over; and so they’ll reserve me for another time, when they happen
to suit it better; or, perhaps, they will take a supper and a bed with
me instead of it.
Now, my dearest, continued the kind man, you see here are more of my
injunctions, as you call them; and though I will not be so set, as to
quarrel, if they are not always exactly complied with; yet, as I know
you won’t think them unreasonable, I shall be glad they may, as often
as they can; and you will give your orders accordingly to your Mrs.
Jervis, who is a good woman, and will take pleasure in obeying you.
O dearest, dear sir, said I, have you nothing more to honour me with?
You oblige and improve me at the same time.—What a happy lot is mine!
Why, let me see, my dearest, said he—But I think of no more at present:
For it would be needless to say how much I value you for your natural
sweetness of temper, and that open cheerfulness of countenance, which
adorns you, when nothing has given my fairest apprehensions for her
virtue: A sweetness, and a cheerfulness, that prepossesses in your
favour, at first sight, the mind of every one that beholds you.—I need
not, I hope, say, that I would have you diligently preserve this sweet
appearance: Let no thwarting accident, no cross fortune, (for we must
not expect to be exempt from such, happy as we now are in each other!)
deprive this sweet face of this its principal grace: And when any thing
unpleasing happens, in a quarter of an hour, at farthest, begin to
mistrust yourself, and apply to your glass; and if you see a gloom
arising, or arisen, banish it instantly; smooth your dear countenance;
resume your former composure; and then, my dearest, whose heart must
always be seen in her face, and cannot be a hypocrite, will find this a
means to smooth her passions also: And if the occasion be too strong
for so sudden a conquest, she will know how to do it more effectually,