My honoured and dear Parents,

I hope you will excuse my long Silence, which has been owing to several Causes, and having had nothing new to entertain you with: And yet this last is but a poor Excuse neither to you, who think every trifling Subject agreeable from your Daughter.

I daily expect here my Lord and Lady Davers. This gives me no small Pleasure, and yet it is mingled with some Uneasiness at times, lest I should not, when view’d so intimately near, behave myself answerably to her Ladyship's Expectations. But this I resolve upon, I will not endeavour to move out of the Sphere of my own Capacity, in order to emulate her Ladyship. She has, and must have, Advantages, by Conversation, as well as Education, which it would be Arrogance in me to assume, or to think of imitating.

All that I will attempt to do, therefore, shall be, to shew such a respectful Obligingness to my Lady, as shall be consistent with the Condition to which I am raised; that so her Ladyship may not have Reason to reproach me of Pride in my Exaltation, nor her dear Brother to rebuke me for Meanness in condescending: And, as to my Family Management, I am the less afraid of Inspection, because by the natural Byass of my own Mind, I bless God, I am above dark Reserves, and have not one selfish or sordid View, that should make me wish to avoid the most scrutinizing Eye.

I have begun a Correspondence with Miss Darnford, a young Lady of uncommon Merit. But you know her Character from my former Writings. She is very solicitous to hear of every thing that concerns me, and particularly how Lady Davers and I agree together. I loved her from the Moment I saw her first; for she has the least Pride, and the most Benevolence and solid Thought, I ever knew in a young Lady, and knows not what it is to envy any one. I shall write to her often: And as I shall have so many Avocations besides to fill up my Time, I know you will excuse me, if I procure from Miss, as I hope to do, the Return of my Letters to her, for your Perusal, and the Entertainment of your Leisure Hours.

From Miss Darnford, to Mrs. B.

My dear Mrs. B.

Every Post you more and more oblige us to admire and love you: And let me tell you, I will gladly receive your Letters upon your own Terms: Only when your worthy Parents have perused them, see that I have every Line of them again.

Your Account of the Arrival of your noble Guests, and their Behaviour to you, and yours to them; your Conversation, and wise Determination, on the offer’d Title of Baronet; the just Applauses conferred on you by all, particularly the good Countess, your Breakfast Conversation, and the Narrative of your saucy abominable Master, tho’ amiable Husband; all delight us beyond Expression.

Do, go on, dear excellent Lady, with your charming Journals, and let us know all that passes.

As to the State of Matters with us, I have desired my Papa to allow me to decline Mr. Murray's Addresses. The good Man lov’d me most violently, nay, he could not live without me; Life was no Life, unless I favour’d him: But yet, after a few more of these Flights, he is trying to sit down satisfy’d without my Papa's foolish perverse Girl, as Sir Simon calls me, and to transpose his Affections to a worthier Object, my Sister Nancy; and it would make you smile to see how, a little while before he directly apply’d to her, she screw’d up her Mouth 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-dress’d Gentleman;——the chattering Magpye, (for he talks and laughs much) quite conversible,—and has something agreeable to say on every Subject. Once, He would make a good Master of the Buck-hounds; but now, Really, the more one is in his Company, the more polite one finds him.

Then, on his Part,—Indeed, 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 is that for Ill-Nature!) in Miss Nanny;

To the same.

My honoured Papa and Mamma,

I have received your joint Commands, and intend to set out on Wednesday next Week. I hope I shall find my Papa in better Health than he is at present, and in better Humour too; for I am very sorry he is displeased with my petitioning for a little longer Time in London. It is very severe to impute to me Want of Duty and Affection to you both, which would, if deserved, make me very unworthy of your Indulgence.

Mr. B. and his dear Lady are resolved to accompany me in their Coach and Six, till your Chariot meets me, if you will be pleased to permit it so to do; and even set me down at your Gate, if it do not; but he vows, that he will not alight at your House, nor let his Lady neither. But I say, that this is a misplaced Resentment, because I ought to think it a Favour, that you have indulg’d me so much as you have. And yet even this is likewise a Favour on their Side to me, because it is an Instance of 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 her off from her Pen, which will be a great Loss to all whom she used to oblige with her Correspondence. Indeed, this new Object of her Care is a charming Child; and she is exceedingly pleased with her Nurse;—for she is not permitted, as she very much desired, to perform that Office herself.

She makes a great Proficiency in the French and Italian Languages; and well she may; for she has the best Schoolmaster in the World, and one whom she loves better than Lady ever loved a Tutor.He is lofty, and won't be disputed with; but I never saw a more polite and tender Husband, for all that; and well may a Lady, bless’d as she is, bear with a little Imperiousness sometimes; which, however, she nips in the Bud, by her Sweetness of Temper, and ready Compliance.

My dearest Lady,

What a Task have you imposed uponme! And, according to the Terms you annex to it, how shall I acquit myself of it, without incurring the Censure of Affectation, if I freely accuse myself as I may deserve, or of Vanity, if I do not? Indeed, Madam, I have a great many Failings; and you don't know the Labour it costs me to keep them under; not so much for fear the World should see them, for, I bless God, I can hope they are not capital, as for fear they should become capital, if I were to let them grow upon me.

And this, surely, I need not have told your Ladyship, and my Lady Countess, who have read my Papers, and seen my Behaviour in the kind Visit you made to your dear Brother, and had from both but too much Reason to censure me, did not your generous and partial Favour make you overlook my greater Failings, and pass under a kinder Name many of my lesser: For, surely, my good Ladies, you must both of you have observed, in what you have read and seen, that I am naturally of a spiteful, saucy Temper; and, with all my appearing Meekness and Humility, can resent, and sting too, when I think myself provoked.

I have also discover’d in myself, on many Occasions, (of some of which I 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 I have often called myself to Account—to very little Purpose, hitherto.

And, indeed, Madam, (now for a little Extenuation, as you expect from me) I have some Difficulty, whether I ought, in the Station to which I am raised, to take much Pains to subdue myself in some Instances, that otherwise it would have become me to attempt to do: For it is no easy Task, for a Person in my Circumstances, to distinguish between the ought and the ought not ; to be humble without Meanness, and decent without Arrogance.

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 I’ll try to forget it, till I come to it in course, bad as it is.

At Four in the Afternoon Mr. B. came in to receive his Guests, whom he expected 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 now?

Your Ladyship may guess, by what I wrote before, that I could not give any extraordinary Account of myself.—As well—As well, Sir, as possible.—Half out of Breath.

You give yourself strange melancholy Airs of late, my Dear!—You don't do well!—All that Chearfulness which used to delight me whenever I saw you, I’m sorry for it, is quite vanish’d of late.—You and I must shortly have a little serious Talk together.

When you please, Sir.—I believe it is only not being us’d to this smoaky thick Air of London!—I shall be better when you carry me into the Country.—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 chuse to make to receive such Guests?

If it displease you, Sir, I will dress otherwise in a Minute.

You look well in any thing.—But I thought you’d have had your Jewels— Yet they would never have less become you; for of late your Eyes 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 in deserving such a kind Compliment, I should be too happy, forgive me, my dearest Mr. B. if the Failure be not rather in your Eyes than my own.

He looked at me stedfastly!—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 look’d a little more brilliant, you want no Addition.

Down he went.

From Miss Darnford, to her Father and Mother.

My ever-honoured Papa and Mamma,

I arriv’d safely in London on Thursday, after a tolerable Journey, considering Deb. and Imade Six in the Coach, (Two having been taken up on 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 the Circumstance of Person, rather than of Mind, however) were so good as to meet me at St. Albans, in their Coach and Six. They have a fine House here, richly furnish’d in every Part, and allotted me the best Apartments in it.

We are happy beyond Expression: Mr. B. is a charming Husband; so easy, so pleas’d with, and so tender of his Lady; and she so much All that we saw her in the Country, as to Humility and Affability, and improv’d in every thing else, which we hardly thought possible she could be—that I never knew so happy a Matrimony.—All that Prerogative Sauciness, which we apprehended would so eminently display itself in his Behaviour to his Lady, had she been ever so distinguish’d by Birth and Fortune, is vanish’d, and no Traces of it left. I did not think it was in the Power of an Angel, if our Sex could have produc’d one, to have made so tender and so fond an Husband of Mr. B. as he makes. And should I have the Sense to follow Mrs B.'s Example, if ever I marry, I should not despair of making myself happy, let it be to whom it would, provided he was not a Brute, nor sordid in his Temper, which two Characters are too obvious to be conceal’d, if Persons take due Care, and make proper Inquiries, and if they are not led by blind Passion. May Mr. Murray, and Miss Nancy, make just such an happy Pair!

You commanded me, my honour’d Mamma, to write to you an Account of every thing that pleas’d me—I said I would: But what a Task should I then have!—I did not think I had undertaken to write Volumes!—You must therefore allow me to be more brief than I had intended.

My dear Lady G.

I received your last Letter at Paris, as we were disposing every thing for our Return to England, after an Absence of near Two Years; in which, as I have inform’d you, from time to time, I have been a great Traveller, into Holland, the Netherlands, through the most considerable Provinces of France, into Italy; and, in our Return to Paris again, (the principal Place of our Residence) through several Parts of Germany.

I told you of the Favours and Civilities we receiv’d at Florence, from the then Countess Dowager of ---- who, with her Humble Servant Lord C.—(that had so assiduously attended her for so many Months in Italy) accompany’d us from Florence to Inspruck.

Her Ladyship made that worthy Lord happy in about a Month after she parted from us; and the noble Pair gave us an Opportunity at Paris, in their Way to England, to return some of the Civilities, which we receiv’d from them in Italy: And they are now arriv’d at her Ladyship's Seat on the Forest.

Her Lord is exceedingly fond of her, as he well may; for she is one of the most charming Ladies in England; and behaves to him with so much Prudence and Respect, that they are as happy in each other, as can be wish’d. And let me just add, That both in Italy and at Paris, Mr. B.'s Demeanour and her Ladyship's to one another, was so nobly open, and unaffectedly polite, as well as highly discreet, that neither Lord C. who had once been jealous of Mr. B. nor the other Party, who had had a Tincture of the same Yellow Evil, as you know, because of the Countess, had so much as a Shadow of Uneasiness remaining on that Occasion.

Lord Davers has had his Health (which had begun to decline in England) so well, that there was no persuading Lady Davers to return before now; altho’ I begg’d and pray’d I might not have another little Frenchman, for fear they should, as they grew up, forget, as I pleasantly used to say, the Obligations which their Parentage lays them under to dearer England.

My dear Lady G.

I will chearfully cause to be transcribed for you the Conversation you desire, between myself, Mrs. Towers, and Mrs. Arthur, and the Three young Ladies their Relations, in Presence of the Dean and his Daughter, and Mrs. Brooks; and glad I shall be, if it may be of Use to the two thoughtless Misses your Neighbours; who, you are pleased to tell me, are great Admirers of my Story, and my Example; and will therefore, as you say, pay greater Attention to what I write, than to the more passionate and interested Lessons of their Mamma.

I am only sorry, that you should have been under any Concern about the supposed Trouble you give me, by having mislaid my former Relation of it. For, besides obliging my dear Lady G. the Hope, that I may be able to do Service by it to a Family so worthy, in a Case so nearly affecting its Honour, as to make two headstrong young Ladies recollect what belongs to their Sex and their Characters, and what their filial Duties require of them, affords me high Pleasure; and if it shall be attended with the wish’d Effects, it will be an Addition to my Happiness.

I said, cause to be transcribed; because I hope to answer a double End by it; for, after I had re-consider’d it, I set Miss Goodwin to transcribe it, who writes a very pretty Hand, and is not a little fond of the Task, and, indeed, of any Task I set her; and will be more affected, as she performs it, than she could be by reading it only; altho’ she is a very good Girl at present, and gives me Hopes, that she will continue to be so.

As soon as it is done, I will inclose it, that it may be read to the Parties without this Introduction, if you think fit. And you will forgive me for having added a few Observations to this Transcription, with a View to the Cases of your inconsiderate young Ladies, and for having corrected the former Narrative in several Places.

The octavo edition of Pamela Richardson published in May 1742 was notable not only because of its high-quality paper and illustrations by Hayman and Gravelot, but also because it was prefixed by a detailed table of contents of all four volumes. In his addendum to the preface, Richardson explains that he has omitted the commendatory letters as well as introduction present in previous editions because of the ‘kind Reception these Volumes have met with’ and the fact that ‘the most material Objections answer’d in the Introductory Preface, are taken notice of and obviated in the Third Volume’ (Preface, p. viii). Instead, ‘their place is supply’d, not unusefully, it is presum’d, by the following Epitome of the Work’ (ibid.). Though not so detailed as Richardson's ‘Index or Table of Contents’ to The Negotiations of Sir Thomas Roe (1740), which had been singled out for particular praise by the reviewer of that volume in The History of the Works of the Learned (May 1740), the ‘epitome’ of Pamela indicates to the reader that this is not merely a novel but an important ‘Work’. Pamela, in short, is worthy of serious critical attention and, therefore, merits the kind of critical apparatus accorded the papers and correspondence of a celebrated English diplomat. The contents of the third and fourth volumes are reproduced below; the contents of the first and second volumes appear in Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I I I .

The good old Couple, arriving at the Bedfordshire Mansion, were received by Mr. B. with great Demonstrations of Esteem and Respect and by their beloved Daughter with Transports of dutiful Joy: And having resided there, till every thing was in Order for their Reception at the Kentish Farm, they set out to take Possession of it, accompanied by the happy Pair, who staid with them a Fortnight: And then returning to Bedfordshire, Mrs. B. writes to acquaint them with their safe Arrival, and to the following Effect.

Letter

My dear Father and Mother,

I know you will be pleased to hear, that we arrived safely in Town last Night. We found a stately, well-furnish’d, and convenient House; and I had my Closet, or Library, and my Withdrawing-room, all in complete Order, which Mr. B. gave me Possession of, in a manner the most obliging that can be imagined.

I am in a new World, as I may say, and see such vast Piles of Building every-where, and such a Concourse of People, and hear such a Rattling of 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 last Night. But I shall soon be us’d to that, and sleep the sounder perhaps, for the Security it assures to us.

Mr. B. is impatient to shew me what is curious in and about this vast City; and to hear, as he is pleased to say, my Observations upon what I shall see; and he has carried me thro’ several of the fine Streets this Day, in his Chariot: But, at present, I have too confused a Notion of Things, to give any Account of them: Nor shall I trouble you with Descriptions of that kind; for you being within a Day's Journey of London, I hope for the Pleasure of seeing you oftener, than I could expect before; and shall therefore leave these Matters to your own Observations, and what you’ll hear from others.

I am impatient for the Arrival of my dear Miss Darnford; whose Company and Conversation will reconcile me, in a great measure, to this new World.

Our Family, at present, are Mr. Colbrand, Mr. Jonathan, and six Menservants, including the Coachman. The four Maids are also with us.

But my good Mrs. Jervis was indisposed, so came not up with us; but we expect her, and Mr. Longman, in a Day or two: For Mr. B. has given her to my Wishes; and Arthur the Gardener, and his Wife, with Benjamin, are to keep House in the Country. And as Mr. Longman's Business will require him to be up and down frequently, Mrs. Jervis's Care will be the better dispens’d with there; and I long to see the dear good Woman, and shall be more in my Element, when I do.

But now, my dear Mr. B. if you will indulge me in a Letter or two more, preparative to my little Book, that I mention’d, I will take the Liberty to touch upon one or two other Places, wherein I differ from this learned Gentleman. But, first, permit me to observe, that if Parents are, above all things, to avoid giving bad Examples to their Children, they will be no less careful to shun the Practice of such fond Fathers and Mothers, as are wont to indulge their Children in bad Habits, and give them their Head, at a time when, like Wax, their tender Minds may be moulded into what Shape they please. This is a Point, that, if it please God, I will carefully attend to, because it is the Foundation, on which the Superstructure of the whole future Man is to be erected. For, according as he is indulg’d or check’d in his childish Follies, a Ground is laid for his future Happiness or Misery; and if once they are suffer’d to become habitual to him, it cannot but be expected, that they will grow up with him, and that they will hardly ever be eradicated. “Try it,” says Mr. Locke, speaking to this very Point, “in a Dog, or an Horse, or any other Creature, and see whether the ill and resty Tricks they have learn’d when young, are easily to be mended, when they are knit: And yet none of these Creatures are half so wilful and 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 touch’d upon, I have a little Objection to somewhat advanc’d by Mr. Locke.

But permit me, Sir, however, to premise, that I am exceedingly pleas’d with the Method laid down by this excellent Writer, rather to shame the Child out of his Fault, than beat him; which latter serves generally for nothing but to harden his Mind.

Obstinacy, and telling a Lye, and committing a wilful Fault, and then persisting in it, are, I agree with this Gentleman, the only Causes for which the Child should be punish’d with Stripes: And I admire the Reasons he gives against a too rigorous and severe Treatment of Children.

The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Samuel Richardson is the first fully annotated scholarly edition of Richardson's works, including his securely attributable minor works, ever to have been undertaken. Five substantial collected editions have been published before now: The Works of Samuel Richardson, with an introduction by Edward Mangin (19 volumes, 1811); The Works of Samuel Richardson, with an introduction by Leslie Stephen (12 volumes, 1883); The Novels of Samuel Richardson, with an introduction by William Lyon Phelps (19 volumes, 1901–2); The Novels of Samuel Richardson, with an introduction by Ethel M. McKenna (20 volumes, 1902); and finally The Novels of Samuel Richardson (18 volumes, 1929–31). None of these editions, however, contains any explanatory or textual apparatus, and none contains any of Richardson's writings beside his three major novels.

In the absence of any scholarly alternative, the last of these collected editions, the Shakespeare Head edition, has passed as standard for almost a century, though with no visible credentials for doing so. It is attractively printed, on fine paper, but suffers from several obvious shortcomings. First, it is extremely scarce; only five hundred copies were issued, many to individual subscribers, and few libraries possess copies. Second, it was anonymously edited, and a brief note on the text is ambiguous; to what extent, and if so on what principles, the text was modernized or corrected remains unclear. Third, the choice of copy-text for the novels, Richardson's octavo edition in each case, is highly questionable. A compulsive reviser and, unusually, his own printer, with complete and direct control over the production process, Richardson changed the texts of his novels with each edition that he printed. He issued one edition of each novel in octavo, in contrast to the smaller duodecimo size normally used. Intended for wealthier buyers, the octavo editions were printed on better paper, with more generous margins and leading, and, in the case of Pamela, with twenty-nine engravings by two of the foremost book-illustrators of the day. The octavo editions, however, represented a stage in the process of revision that was intermediate and in some respects tangential to the genealogy of the text: in the case of all three novels, Richardson went on to make extensive further changes, working from the previous duodecimo edition and losing many of the octavo revisions as he did so.

My dear good Lady,

What kind, what generous things, are you pleased to say of your happy Correspondent! And what Reason have I to value myself on such an Advantage as is now before me, if I am capable of improving it as I ought, from a Correspondence with so noble and so admired a Lady! I wish I be not now proud indeed!—To be praised by such a Genius, and by the noble Sister of my honoured Benefactor, whose Favour, next to his own, it was always my chief Ambition to obtain, is what would be enough to fill with Vanity a steadier and a more equal Mind than mine.

I have heard from my late honoured Lady, what a fine Pen her beloved Daughter was Mistress of, when she pleased to take it up: But I never could have had the Presumption, but from your Ladyship's own Motion, to hope to be in any manner the Subject of it, much less to be called your Correspondent.

Indeed, Madam, I am proud, very proud of this Honour, and consider it as such a Heightening to my Pleasures, as only that could give; and I will set about obeying your Ladyship without Reserve.

But permit me, in the first Place, to disclaim any Merit, from my own poor Writings, to that Improvement which your Goodness imputes to me. What I have to boast of that Sort, is owing principally, if it deserves Commendation, to my late excellent Lady. It is hardly to be imagined what Pains her Ladyship took with her poor Servant. Besides making me keep a Book of her Charities dispensed by my Hands, she caused me always to set down, in my Way, the Cases of the Distressed, their Griefs from their Misfortunes, and their Joys in her bountiful Relief; and so I was enter’d early into the various Turns that affected worthy Hearts, and was taught the better to regulate my own, especially by the Help of the fine Observations which my good Lady used to make to me, when I read to her what I wrote.

My dear Miss Darnford,

I hear that Mrs. Jewkes is in no good State of Health. I am very sorry for it. I pray for her Life, that she may be a Credit (if it please God) to the Penitence she has so lately assumed.—For if she die, it will look discouraging to some thoughtless Minds, who penetrate not the Methods Providence takes with its poor Creatures, that as soon as she had changed her Manner of Living, and was in a reformed State, she was taken away: Tho’ ‘tis certain, that a Person is fittest to die, when worthiest to live. And what a Mercy will it be to her, if she should not live long, that she saw her Errors, and repented before ‘twas too late?

Do, my dear good Miss, vouchsafe to the poor Soul the Honour of a Visit: She may be low-spirited—She may be too much sunk with the Recollection of past Things——Comfort, with that Sweetness which is so natural to Miss Darnford, her drooping Heart, and let her know, that I have a true Concern for her, and give it her in Charge to take care of herself, and spare nothing that will administer either to her Health or Peace of Mind.

You’ll pardon me, my dear Miss, that I put you upon such an Office; an Office indeed unsuitable from a Lady in your Station, to one in hers; but not to your Piety and Charity, where a Duty so eminent as that of visiting the Sick, and chearing the doubting Mind, is in the Question.

I know your Condescension will give her great Comfort, and if she should be hastening to her Account, what a Pleasure will it give such a Lady as you, to have illuminated a benighted Mind, when it was tottering on the Verge of Life!

But I hope she will get the better of her Indisposition, and live many Years a thankful Monument of God's Mercies, and to do more Good by her Example in the latter Part of her Life, than she may possibly have done Evil in the former.

My dearest Pamela,

You need not be afraid of any body's knowing what passes between us on this cutting Subject. Tho’ I hear of it from every Mouth, yet I pretend ‘tis all Falshood and Malice. Yet Lady Betty will have it, that there is more in it than I will own, and that I know my Brother's Wickedness, by my pensive Looks. She will make a Vow, she says, never to marry any Man living.

I am greatly mov’d by your affecting Periods. Charming Pamela! what a Tempest do you raise in one's Mind, when you please, and lay it too, at your own Will! Your Colourings are strong; but, I hope, your Imagination 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 Direction you beg so hourly, that I make no doubt you will have it.

What vexes me is, that on the noble Uncle of this vile Lady—(why don't you call her so as well as I?)—expostulating with her on the Scandals she brought on her Character and Family, she pretended to argue, foolish Creature! for Polygamy; and said, She had rather be a certain Gentleman's second Wife, than the first to the greatest Man in England!

I leave you to your own Workings; but if I find your Prudence unrewarded by the Wretch, the Storm you saw raised at the Hall, shall be nothing to the Hurricane I will excite, to tear up by the Roots all the 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. What must be done, must be by touching his Generosity: He has that in some Perfection. But how in this Case to move it, is beyond my Power or Skill to prescribe.

God bless you, you dearest Pamela! You shall be my only Sister. And I will never own my Brother, if he be so base to your superlative Merit. Adieu once more!

From your Sister and Friend,

B. DAVERS.

Rivington, Richardson, and Osborn filed their petition for a Royal Licence on 7 January (Public Record Office, SP 36/58, fol. 9). It was officially issued on 13 January (PRO, SP 44/367, p. 250), granting them ‘sole Printing, Publishing, and Vending’ of the four volumes ‘for the Term of Fourteen Years’. The Royal Licence appears at the beginning of each volume of the octavo, and of the second and fourth editions of the continuation.