My dearest Lady,

I now set myself to obey your Ladyship's second Command, which is, To give an Account in what manner your dear Brother broke to me the Affair of the unfortunate Miss Godfrey, with my Behaviour upon it: And this I cannot do better, than by transcribing the Relation I gave at the Time, in those Letters to my dear Parents which your Ladyship has not seen, in these very Words.

[See Vol. II. p. 359 [437]. beginning My dear Mr. B. down to p. 374. Line 20 (447, l.1).]

Thus far, my dear Lady, the Relation I gave to my Parents, at the Time of my being first acquainted with this melancholy Affair.

It is a great Pleasure to me, that I can already flatter myself, from the Hints you kindly give me, that I behaved as you wished I should behave. Indeed, Madam, I could not help it; for I pitiedmost sincerely the unhappy Lady; and tho’ I could not but rejoice, that I had had the Grace to escape the dangerous Attempts of the dear Intriguer, yet never did the Story of any unfortunate Lady make such an Impression upon me as hers did: She loved him, and believed, no doubt, he loved her too well to take ungenerous Advantages of her soft Passion for him; and so, by Degrees, put herself in his Power; and too seldom, alas! have the noblest-minded of the seducing Sex the Mercy or the Goodness to spare the poor Creatures that do!—And then this Love, to be sure, is a sad Thing, when once it is suffer’d to reign!— A perfect Tyrant!—requiring an unconditional Obedience to its arbitrary Dictates, and deeming every Instance of Discretion, and Prudence, and Virtue itself, too often, but as so many Acts of Rebellion to its usurped Authority.

And then, how do even Blemishes become Perfections in those we love? Crimes themselves too often, to inconsiderate Minds, appear but as human Failings; and human Failings are a common Cause, and always pardonable by human Frailty.

Then ‘tis another Misfortune of People in Love, they always think highly of the beloved Object, and lowly of themselves; such a dismal Mortifier is Love!

My dear Lady,

I now resume my last Subject where I left off, that your Ladyship may have the Whole before you at one View.

I went after Dinner, with my dear Benefactor, to Lady Arthur’s; and met with fresh Calls upon me for Humility, having the too natural Effects of the Praises and professed Admiration of that Lady's Guests, as well as my dear Mr. B.’s, and those of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur, to guard myself against: And your good Brother was pleased to entertain me in the Chariot, going and coming, with an Account of the Orders he had given in relation to the London House, which is actually taken, and the Furniture he should direct for it; so that I had no Opportunity to tell him what I had done in relation to Mrs. Jervis.

But after Supper, retiring from Company to my Closet, when his Friends were gone, he came up to me about our usual Bed-time: He inquired kindly after my Imployment, which was trying to read in the French Telemachus: For, my Lady, I am learning French, I’ll assure you! And who, do you think, is my Master?—Why, the best I could have in the World, your dearest Brother, who is pleased to say I am no Dunce: How inexcusable should I be, if I was, with such a Master, who teaches me on his Knee, and rewards me with a Kiss whenever I do well, and says, I have already nearly master’d the Accent and Pronunciation, which he tells me is a great Difficulty got over.

I requested him to render for me into English two or three Places that were beyond my Reach; and when he had done it, he asked me, in French, What I had done for Mrs. Jervis?

I said, Permit me, Sir, (for I am not Proficient enough to answer you in my new Tongue) in English, to say, I have made the good Woman quite happy; and if I have your Approbation, I shall be as much so myself in this Instance, as I am in all others.

I dare answer for your Prudence, my Dear, he was pleased to say; but this is your Favourite: Let me know, when you have so bountiful a Heart to Strangers, what you do for your Favourites?

From Mr. B. to Lady Davers.

My dear Sister,

I take very kindly your Solicitude for the Health of my beloved Pamela. The last Line she wrote, was to you; for she took to her Bed the Moment she laid down her Pen.

I told her your kind Message, and Wishes for her Safety, by my Lord's Gentleman; and she begg’d I would write a Line to thank you in her Name for your affectionate Regards to her.

She is in a fine way to do well: for, with her accustomed Prudence, she had begun to prepare herself by a proper Regimen, the Moment she knew the Child's Illness was the Small-pox.

The worst is over with the Boy, which keeps up her Spirits; and her Mother is so excellent a Nurse to both, and we are so happy likewise in the Care of a skilful Physician, Dr. M. (who directs and approves of every thing the good Dame does) that it is a singular Providence, this Malady seiz’d them here; and affords no small Comfort to the dear Creature herself.

When I tell you, that, to all Appearance, her charming Face will not receive any Disfigurement by this cruel Enemy to Beauty, I amsure you will congratulate me upon a Felicity so desirable: But were it to be otherwise, if I were capable of slighting a Person, whose principal Beauties are much deeper than the Skin, I should deserve to be thought the most unworthy and superficial of Husbands.

Whatever your Notions have been, my ever-ready censuring Lady Davers, of your Brother, on a certain Affair, I do assure you, That I never did, and never can, love any Lady as I love my Pamela.

It is indeed impossible I can ever love her better than I do; and her outward Beauties are far from being indifferent to me; yet, if I know myself, I am sure I have Justice enough to love her equally, and Generosity enough to be more tender of her, were she to suffer by this Distemper. But, as her Humility, and her Affection to me, would induce her to think herself under greater Obligation to me, for such my Tenderness to her, were she to lose any the least valuable of her Perfections, I rejoice, that she will have no Reason for Mortification on that Score.

Why does not my sweet Girl subscribe Sister, as usual? I have done nothing amiss to you! I love you dearly, and ever will. I can't help my Brother's Faults. But I hope he uses you with Politeness and Decency. He shall be none of my Brother, if he don’t. I rest a great deal upon your Prudence, and it will be very meritorious, if you can overcome yourself, so as to act unexceptionably, tho’ it may not be deserv’d, on this Occasion: For in doing so, you’ll have a Triumph over Nature itself; for, my dear Girl, as you have formerly own’d, you have a little Toucha of Jealousy in your Composition.

What I have heard, is no Secret to any body. The injured Party is generally the last that hears in these Cases, and you shall not first be told any thing by me that must afflict you, but cannot you, more than it does me. God give you Patience and Comfort! The wicked Lady has a deal to answer for, to disturb such an uncommon Happiness. But no more, than that I am

Your ever affectionate Sister,

B. DAVERS.

I am all Impatience to hear how you conduct yourself on this trying Occasion. Let me know what you have heard, and how you came to hear it.

My dear Miss Darnford,

I hope you are happy and well. You kindly say you can't be so, till you hear of my perfect Recovery. And this, blessed be God! you have heard already from Mr. B.

As to your Intimation of the fair Nun, ‘tis all happily over. Blessed be God, for that too: And I have a better and more indearing Husband than ever. Did you think that could be?

My Billy too improves every Day: And my dear Father and Mother seem to have their Youth renew’d like the Eagle’s. How many Blessings have I to be thankful for!

We are about to turn Travellers, to the Northern Counties, I think, quite to the Borders; and afterwards to the Western, to Bath, to Bristol, and I know not whither myself. But among the rest, to Lincolnshire, that you may be sure of. Then how happy shall I be in my dear Miss Darnford!

I long to hear whether poor Mrs. Jewkes is better or worse for the Advice of the Doctor, whom I order’d to attend her from Stamford; and in what Frame her Mind is.

Do, my dear Miss, vouchsafe her a Visit, in my Name; tell her, if she be low-spirited, what God has done for me, as to my Recovery, and comfort her all you can; and bid her spare neither Expence nor Attendance, nor any thing her Heart can wish for, nor the Company of any Relations or Friends she may desire to be with her.

If she is in her last Stage, poor Soul! how noble will it be in you to give her Comfort and Consolation in her dying Hours!

Altho’ we can merit nothing at the Hand of God, yet I have a Notion, that we cannot deserve more of one another, and, in some Sense, for that Reason, of Him, than in our Charities on so trying an Exigence! When the poor Soul stands shivering, as it were, on the Edge of Life, and has nothing strong, but its Fears and Doubts!—Then a little Balm pour’d into the Wounds of the Mind, a little comforting Advice to rely on God's Mercies, from a good Person; how consolatory must it be! And how, like Morning Mists before the Sun, must all Diffidences and gloomy Doubts be chased away by it!

My dear Father and Mother,

We arrived here last Night, highly pleased with our Journey, and the Occasion of it. May God bless you both with long Life and Health, to enjoy your sweet Farm, and pretty Dwelling, which is just what I wished it to be. And don't make your grateful Hearts too uneasy in the Possession of it, by your modest Diffidence of your own Worthiness: For, at the same time that it is what will do Honour to the best of Gentlemen, it is not so very extraordinary, considering his Condition, as that it will give any one Cause to censure it as the Effect of a too partial and injudicious Kindness for the Parents of one whom he delighteth to honour.

My dear Master (why should I not still call him so, bound to reverence him as I am, in every Light that he can shine in to the most obliged and sensible Heart?) holds his kind Purpose of fitting up the large Parlour and three Apartments in the commodious Dwelling he calls yours, for his Entertainment and mine, when he shall permit me to pay my Duty to you both, for a few happy Days together; and he has actually given Orders for that Purpose; and that the three Apartments be so fitted up, as to be rather suitable to your Condition, than his own; for, he says, the plain simple Elegance which he will have to be observed in the Rooms as well as the Furniture, will be a Variety in his Retirement to this Place, that will make him return to his own with the greater Pleasure; and at the same time, when we are not there, will be of Use for the Reception of any of your Friends; and so he shall not, as he kindly says, rob the good Couple of any of their Accommodations.

The old Bow-windows he will have preserv’d, but will not have them sash’d, nor the Wood-binds, Jessamines and Vines that run up against them, destroyed; only he will have larger Panes of Glass, and convenienter Casements, to let in more of the sweet Air and Light, to make amends for that obstructed by the Shades of those fragrant Climbers.

From Mrs. B. to Lady DAVERS.

My dear Lady Davers,

I understand from Miss Darnford, that before she went down from us, her Papa had encourag’d a Proposal made by Sir W. G. whom you saw, when your Ladyship was a kind Visitor in Bedfordshire. We all agreed, if your Ladyship remembers, that he was a polite and sensible Gentleman, and I find it is countenanc’d on all Hands.

Poor Mrs. Jewkes, Madam, as Miss informs me, has paid her last Debt. I hope, thro’ Mercy, she is happy! Poor, poor Woman!——But why say I so!—Since in that Case, she will be richer than an earthly Monarch! At least till he is levell’d with her in Death!

Your Ladyship was once mentioning a Sister of Mrs. Worden’s, whom you could be glad to recommend to some worthy Family.——Shall I beg of you, Madam, to oblige Mr. B.'s in this Particular? I am sure she must have Merit, if your Ladyship thinks well of her; and your Commands in this, as well as in every other Particular, shall have their due Weight with

Your Ladyship's Obliged Sister, and humble Servant,

P. B.

Just now, dear Madam, Mr. B. tells me, I shall have Miss Goodwin brought me hither To-morrow!

From Mr. B. In Answer to the preceding.

Dear Sir Simon,

You cannot but believe, that I was much surprised at your Letter, complaining of the Behaviour of my Wife. I could no more have expected such a Complaint from such a Gentleman, than I could, that she would have deserved it: And I am very sorry on both Accounts. I have talked to her in such a Manner, that, I dare say, she will never give you like Cause to appeal to me.

It happened, that the Criminal herself received your Letter from her Servant, and brought it to me in my Closet, and, making her Honours, (for I can't say but she is very obliging to me, tho’ she takes such saucy Freedoms with my Friends) away she tripp’d; and I, inquiring for her, when, with Surprize, as you may believe, I had read your Charge, found she was gone to visit a poor sick Neighbour, of which indeed she had before appris’d me, because she took the Chariot; but I had forgot it in my Wrath.

’Twas well for her, that she was not in the Way; perhaps I should have taken more severe Methods with her in my first Emotions; and I long’d for her Return: And there is another Well-for-her too in her Case; for one would be loth to spoil a Son and Heir, you know, Sir Simon, before we see whether the little Varlet may deserve one's Consideration.

I mention these Things, that you may observe, it was not owing to any Regard for the Offender herself, that I did not punish her as much as injur’d Friendship requir’d at my Hands.

At last, in she came, with that sweet Composure in her Face which results from a Consciousness of doing generally just and generous Things; altho’ in this Instance she has so egregiously err’d, that it behoves me (as well in Justice to my Friend, as Policy to myself; for who knows whither first Faults may lead, if not checked in time?) to nip such Boldness in the Bud. And indeed the Moment I beheld the Charmer of my Heart, (for I do love her too well, that's certain) all my Anger was disarm’d; and had the Offence regarded myself, I must have forgiven her, in spite of all my meditated Wrath.

My dear good Lady,

You have done me great Honour in the Letter your Ladyship has been pleased to send me; and it is a high Pleasure to me, now all is so happily over, that my poor Papers were in the least diverting to you and to such honourable and worthy Persons as your Ladyship is pleased to mention. I could wish, my dear Lady, I might be favour’d with such Remarks on my Conduct, (so nakedly set forth, without any Imagination that they would ever appear in such an Assembly) as may be of Use to me in my future Life, and make me, by that means, more worthy than it is otherwise possible I can be, of the Honour to which I am raised. Do, dearest Lady, favour me so far: I am prepared to receive Blame, and to benefit by it, and cannot expect Praise so much from my Actions as from my Intentions; for, indeed, these were always just and honourable: But why even for these do I talk of Praise, since, being prompted by Impulses I could not resist, it can be no Merit in me to have been govern’d by them?

As to the Papers following those in your Ladyship's Hands, when I say, that they must needs appear impertinent to such Judges, after what you know, I dare say your Ladyship will not insist upon them; yet I will not scruple briefly to mention what they contain.

All my Dangers and Trials were happily at an End; So that they only contain “the Conversations that passed between your Ladyship's generous Brother and me; his kind Assurances of honourable Love to me; my Acknowledgments of Unworthiness to him; Mrs. Jewkes's respectful Change of Behaviour towardsme; Mr. B.'s Reconciliation to Mr. Williams; his introducing me to the good Families in the Neighbourhood, and avowing before them his honourable Intentions. A Visit frommy honest Father, who (not knowing what to conclude from the Letter I wrote to him before I returned to your honoured Brother, desiring my Papers from him) came in great Anxiety of Heart to know the worst, doubting I had at last been caught by a Stratagem that had ended in my Ruin. His joyful Surprize to find how happy I was likely to be.

In accordance with the usual textual policy of the Cambridge Edition of the Works of Samuel Richardson (CEWSR), this edition of Pamela in Her Exalted Condition offers a critical unmodernized text of the first edition of the novel, published on 7 December 1741 (dated 1742); the text is based on a copy of this edition at the Newberry Library in Chicago (VAULT Case 3A 881, v. 3–4). Although exhaustive historical collation is beyond the scope of the CEWSR, in preparing the text I have collated this copy against two other copies of the first edition (British Library, c.71.cc.8, v. 3–4; and a second Newberry Library copy, Case Y 115 .R4086, v. 3–4) and discovered two major press-variants as well as a handful of minor corrections made in press. As discussed in the General Introduction, Richardson began to revise Pamela in Her Exalted Condition, in anticipation of the octavo edition, even as the first edition was being printed. Two typographical errors found in the text are recorded in the errata appearing at the end of the preface of the first edition: ‘vol. iii, p. 6. l. 23. dele it. p. 10. l. 21 dele not.’ (vol. iii, p. iv). The first major stop-press correction within the first edition occurs in vol. iii, p. 299 (p. 202 below), with the addition of a footnote (missing in the British Library copy, but present in the two Newberry Library copies) assuring readers that Mr. Williams is not guilty of simony. To accommodate the footnote at the bottom of the page, the penultimate paragraph has been reset in the Newberry Library copies and a clause, originally reading ‘but I was still more affected’, shortened to ‘but I was still more so’ in the last paragraph. The second major stop-press correction, appearing in the British Library copy and the Newberry Library copy on which the Cambridge text is based (vol. iv, p. 242; p. 452 below), cleans up some of the clumsy grammar and syntax of the version appearing in the second Newberry Library copy: ‘The CHEEK came next, proceeded Mr. B. I allow’d her Ladyship's to have a livelier Carmine there, and that hers was somewhat rounder, her Ladyship being a little plumper than my Girl; but that your Face being rather smaller featur’d of the two, there was an inimitably finer Turn in your Cheek, than I had ever seen in my Life.’

My dearest Mr. B.

I have been considering of your Commands, in relation to Mr. Locke's Book; and as you are pleas’d to give me Time to acquit myself of the Task, I shall take the Liberty to propose to include in a little Book my humble Sentiments, as I did to Lady Davers, in that I shew’d you in relation to the Plays I had seen. And, since you confine me not to Time or Place, perhaps, I shall be three or four Years in completing it, because I shall reserve some Subjects to my further Experience in Childrens Ways and Tempers, and in order to benefit myself by those good Lessons and Instructions, which I shall receive from your delightful Conversation, in that Compass of Time, if God spare us to one another: And then it will, moreover, be more worthy, than it can otherwise be, of the Perusal of the most honour’d and best-beloved of all my Correspondents, much honour’d and beloved, as they all are.

I must needs say, my dear Mr. B. that this is a Subject to which I was always particularly attentive; and among the Charities your bountiful Heart permits me to dispense to the Poor and Indigent, I have had always a watchful Eye upon the Children of such, and endeavour’d, by Questions put to them, as well as to their Parents, to inform myself of their little Ways and Tempers, and how Nature delights to work in different Minds, and how it might be pointed to their Good, according to their respective Capacities; and I have for this Purpose erected, with your Approbation, a little School of Seven or Eight Children, among which are Four in the earliest Stages, when they can but just speak, and call for what they want, or love: And I am not a little pleas’d to observe, when I visit them in their School-time, that Principles of Goodness and Virtue may be instill’d into their little Hearts much earlier than is usually imagin’d. And why should it not be so? For may not the Child, that can tell its Wants, and make known its Inclination, be easilymade sensible of yours, and what you expect from it, provided you take a proper Method?

From Miss Darnford to Mrs. B.

My dear Mrs. B.

Pray give my Service to your Mr. B. and tell him, he is very unpolite, in his Reflections upon me, in relation to Mr. Murray, when he supposes I regret the Loss of him. You are much more favourable and just too, I will say, to your Polly Darnford. These Gentlemen, the very best of them, are such Indelicates! They think so highly of their saucy Selves, and confident Sex, as if a Lady cannot from her Heart despise them. But if she turns them off, as they deserve, and happens to continue her Dislike, what should be interpreted in her Favour, as a just and regular Piece of Conduct, is turn’d against her, and it must proceed from Spite.

Mr. B. may think he knows a good deal of the Sex. But perhaps, were I as malicious as he is reflecting, (and yet, if I have any Malice, he has raised it) I could say, That his Acquaintance was not with the most unexceptionable, till he had the Happiness to know you: And he has not long enough been happy in you, I find, to do Justice to those who are proud to emulate your Virtues.

But I can't bear, it seems, to see my Sister address’d and complimented, and preferr’d by one whom I had thought in my own Power! But he may be mistaken: With all his Sagacity, he has been often. Nor is it so mortifying a thing to me, as he imagines, to sit and see two such Anticks playing their Pugs Tricks, as he calls them, with one another.

But you hardly ever saw such Pug's Tricks play’d as they play, at so early a Time of Courtship. The Girl hangs upon his Arm, and receives his empty Head on her Shoulder, already, with a Freedom that would be censurable in a Bride, before Folks.

From the same.

My dearest Mrs. B.

I amall over Joy and Rapture.Mygood Papa has given me Leave to tell you, that he will put his Polly under your Protection, when you go to London. If you have but a Tenth Part of the Pleasure I have on this Occasion, I am sure I shall be as welcome as I wish. But he will insist upon it, he says, that Mr. B. signs some Acknowlegement, which I am to carry along with me, that I am intrusted to his Honour and yours, and to be returned to him Heart-whole, and Dutiful, and with a Reputation as unsully’d as he receives me.

But do, dearest Mrs. B. continue your Journals till then; for I have promis’d to take them up where you leave off, to divert our Friends in these Parts. There will be Presumption! But yet I will write nothing but what I will shew you, and have your Consent to send: For I was taught early not to tell Tales out of School; and a School, the best I ever went to, will be your charming Conversation.

Wehave been greatly divertedwith the Trick put upon that Barbarian Sir Jacob.His Obstinacy, Repentance, and Amendment, follow’d so irresistibly in one Half-hour, from the happy Thought of the excellent Lady Countess, that I think no Plot was ever more fortunate. It was like springing a lucky Mine in a Siege, that blew up twenty times more than was expected from it, and answer’d all the Besieger's Ends at once.

Mr. B.’s Defence of his own Conduct towards you, is quite noble; and he judges with his usual Generosity and good Sense, when, by adding to your Honour, he knows he inhances his own.Mr. Pitt's fine Diamond met with a world of Admirers; but all turn’d upon this Reflection, What a happy Man is Mr. Pitt, who can call such a Jewel his own!—How greatly do you excel this Diamond; and how much does Mr. B. outdo Mr. Pitt!—Who has contributed to give so rich a Jewel a Polish so admirable; and then has set it in so noble a Light, as makes its Beauty conspicuous to every Eye!

Well, but, my dear Mr. B. you will, perhaps, think from my last rambling Letter, that I am most inclin’d to a School Education for your Billy, some Years hence, if it shall please God to spare him to us. But indeed I cannot say, that I am: I only lay several things together in my usual indigested and roving way, to take your Opinion upon, which, as it ought, will be always decisive with me. And indeed I am so throughly convinc’d by Mr. Locke's Reasons, where the Behaviour of Servants can be so well answer’d for, as that of yours can be, where the Example of the Parents will be, as I hope, rather edifying than otherwise, that, without being sway’d, as I think, by maternal Fondness, in this Case, I must needs give a Preference to the Home Education; and the little Scheme I presum’d to form in my last, was only, as you will be pleas’d to remember, on a Supposition, that those necessary Points could not be so well secur’d.

In my Observations on this Head, I shall take the Liberty, Sir, in one or two Particulars, a little to differ from an Author, that I admire exceedingly; and that is the present Design of my writing these Letters; for I shall hereafter, if God spare my Life, in my little Book, (when you have kindly decided upon the Points in which I presume to differ from that Gentleman) shew you, Sir, my great Reverence and Esteem for him; and shall then be able to let you know all my Sentiments on this important Subject, and that more undoubtingly, as I shall be more improv’d by Years, and your dear Conversation; especially, Sir, if I have the Honour and Happiness of a foreign Tour with you, of which you give me Hope; so much are you pleas’d with the Delight I take in these improving Excursions, which you have now favour’d me with, at times, thro’ more than half the Kingdom.

Well then, Sir, I will proceed to consider a little more particularly the Subject of an Home Education, with an Eye to those Difficulties, which Mr. Locke takes notice of, as I have mention’d in my last.

My dear Lady,

It is needful, in order to let you more intelligibly into the Subject where I left off in my last, that your Ladyship should know, that your generous Brother has made me his Almoner, as I was my late dear Lady’s; and has order’d Mr. Longman to pay me 50 l. Quarterly, for Purposes of which he requires no Account, tho’ I have one always ready to produce; and he has given me other Sums to inable me to do all the Good I can to distressed Objects, at my first setting out. Thus inabled, your Ladyship knows not how many honest Hearts I have made glad already, and how many I hope to rejoice before a Year is at an End, and yet come within my Limits.

Now, Madam, as I knew Mrs. Jervis was far from being easy in her Circumstances, thinking herself obliged to pay old Debts for two extravagant Children who are both dead; and maintaining in Schooling and Cloaths three of their Children, which always keeps her bare; I took upon me one Day, as she and I sat together, at our Needles, to say to her, (as we are always running over old Stories, when we are alone) My good Mrs. Jervis, will you allow me to ask you after your own private Affairs, and if you are tolerably easy in them?

You are very good, Madam, said she, to concern yourself about my poor Matters, so much as you have to imploy your Thoughts about, and so much as every Moment of your Time is taken up from the Hour you rise, to the Time of your Rest. But I can with great Pleasure attribute it to your Bounty, and that of my honoured Master, that I am easier and easier every Day.

But tell me, my dear Mrs. Jervis, said I, how your Matters particularly stand. I love to mingle Concerns with my Friends, and as I hide nothing from you, I hope you’ll treat me with equal Freedom; for I always loved you, and always will; and nothing but Death shall divide our Friendship.

My dear Miss,

I now proceed with my Journal, which I brought down to Tuesday Evening; and of course I begin with

WEDNESDAY.

Towards the Evening came Sir Jacob Swynford, on Horseback, attended by two Servants in Liveries. I was abroad; for I had got Leave for a whole Afternoon, attended by my Polly, which Time I passed in visiting no less than four several poor sick Families, whose Hearts I made glad. But I should be too tedious, were I to give you the Particulars; and besides, I have a brief List of Cases, which, when you’ll favour me with your Company, I may shew you; for I have obliged myself , tho’ not desired, to keep an Account of what I do with no less than 200 l. a Year, that my dear Mr. B. allows me to expend in Acts of Charity and Benevolence.

Lady Davers told me afterwards, that Sir Jacob carried it mighty stiff and formal, when he alighted. He strutted about the Court-yard in his Boots, with his Whip in his Hand; and tho’ her Ladyship went to the great Door, in order to welcome him, he turn’d short, and, whistling, followed the Groom into the Stable, as if he had been at an Inn, only, instead of taking off his Hat, pulling its broad Brim over his Eyes, for a Compliment. In she went in a Pet, as she says, saying to the Countess, A surly Brute he always was! My Uncle! He's more of an Hostler than a Gentleman:1 I’m resolv’d I’ll not stir to meet him again. And yet the Wretch loves Respect from others, tho’ he never practises common Civility himself.

The Countess said, She was glad he was come; for she lov’d to divert herself with such odd Characters now-and-then.

And now let me give you a short Description of him as I found him, when I came in, that you may the better conceive what sort of a Gentleman he is.

He is about Sixty-five Years of Age, a coarse, strong, big-bon’d Gentleman, with large irregular Features; he has a haughty supercilious Look, a swaggering Gait, and a Person not at all bespeaking one's Favour in behalf of his Mind; and his Mind, as you shall hear by-and-by, not clearing up those Prepossessions in his Disfavour, with which his Person and Features at first impress one.

My dear Miss Darnford,

The Interest I take in every thing that concerns you, makes me very importunate to know how you approve the Gentleman, whom some of his best Friends and Well-wishers have recommended to your Favour. I hope he will deserve your good Opinion, and then he must excel most of the unmarried Gentlemen in England.

Your Papa, in his humourous Manner, mentions his large Possessions and Riches: But, indeed, were he as rich as Croesus, he should not have my Consent, if he has no greater Merit; tho’ that is what the Generality of Parents look out for first: And indeed an easy Fortune is so far from being disregardable, that, when attended with equal Merit, I think it ought to have a Preference given to it, supposing Affections disingaged. For ‘tis certain, that a Gentleman or Lady may stand as good a Chance for Happiness in Marriage with a Person of Fortune, as with one who has not that Advantage; and notwithstanding I had neither Riches nor Descent to boast of, I must be of Opinion with those, who say, that they never knew any body despise either, that had them. But to permit Riches to be the principal Inducement, to the Neglect of superior Merit, that is the Fault which many a one smarts for, whether the Choice be their own, or imposed upon them by those who have a Title to their Obedience.

Here is a saucy Body, might some, who have not Miss Darnford 's kind Consideration for her Friend, be apt to say, who being thus meanly descended, nevertheless presumes to give her Opinion, in these high Cases, unasked. But I have one thing, my dear Miss, to say; and that is, that I think myself so intirely divested of Partiality to my own Case, that, as far as my Judgment shall permit, I will never have that in View, when I am presuming to hint my Opinion of general Rules.

My dearest Daughter,

How shall I do to answer, as they deserve, your two last Letters? Surely no happy Couple ever had such a Child as we have! But it is in vain to aim at Words like your Words; and equally in vain for us to offer to set forth the Thankfulness of our Hearts, on the kind Office your honoured Husband has given us; for no Reason but to favour us still more, and to quiet our Minds in the Notion of being useful to him. God grant I may be able to be so!—Happy shall I be if I can! But I see the generous Drift of his Proposal; it is only to make me more easy from the Nature of my Employment, and in my Mind too, overloaden, as I may say, with Benefits; and at the same time to make me more respected in my new Neighbourhood.

I can only say, I most gratefully accept of the kind Offer; and since it will ease the worthy Mr. Longman, shall with still greater Pleasure do all I can in it. But I doubt I shall be wanting in Ability; I doubt I shall: But I will be just and honest, however. That, by God's Grace, will be within my own Capacity; and that, I hope, I may answer for.

It is kind, indeed, to put it in my Power to do good to those who shall deserve it: And I will take double Pains to find out the true Merit of such as I shall recommend to Favour, and that their Circumstances be really such as I shall represent them.

But one thing, my dear Daughter, let me desire, that I may make up my Accounts to Mr. Longman, or to his Honour himself, when he shall make us so happy as to be here with us. I don't know how—but it will make me uneasy, if I am to make up my Accounts to you: For so well known is your Love to us, that tho’ you would no more do an unjust thing, than, by God's Grace, we should desire you; yet this same ill-willing World might think it was like making up Accounts to one's self.

From the same.

And so, Pamela, you are very solicitous to know if the Gentlemen have seen every Part of your Papers. I can't say but they have. Nor, except in regard to the Reputation of your saucy Man, do I see why the Parts you hint at, might not be read by those to whom the rest might be shewn.

I can tell you, Lady Betty, who is a very nice and delicate Lady, had no Objections to any Part, tho’ read before Men: Only now and then, crying out—O the vile Man!—See, Lord Davers, what Wretches you Men are!—And, commiserating you, Ah! the poor Pamela!—And expressing her Impatience to hear on, how you escap’d at this time, and at that, and rejoicing in your Escape.—And now-and-then, O Lady Davers! what a vile Brother you have!—I hate him perfectly.—The poor Girl cannot be made Amends for all this, tho’ he has marry’d her. Who, that knows these Things of him, would wish him to be hers, with all his Advantages of Person, Mind and Fortune?—And such-like Expressions in your Praise, and condemning him and his wicked Attempts.

But I can tell you this, that except one had heard every Tittle of your Danger; how near you were to Ruin, and how little he stood upon taking any Measures to effect his vile Purposes, even daring to attempt you in the Presence of a good Woman, which was a Wickedness that every wicked Man could not be guilty of;—I say, except one had known these things, one should not have been able to judge of the Merit of your Resistance, and how shocking those Attempts were to your Virtue, insomuch that Life itself was indanger’d by them: Nor, let me tell you, could I in particular, have so well justify’d him for marrying you (I mean with respect to his own proud and haughty Temper of Mind) if there had been Room to think he could have had you upon easier Terms.

It was necessary, Child, on twenty Accounts, that we, your and his Wellwishers and Relations, should know that he had try’d every Stratagem, and made use of every Contrivance, to subdue you to his Purpose, before he marry’d you:

From Lady DAVERS to Mrs. B.

My dear Pamela,

I have sent you a Present, the completest I could procure, of every thing that may suit your approaching happy Circumstance; as I hope it will be to you, and to us all. But it is with a Hope annex’d, That altho’ both Sexes are thought of in it, yet that you will not put us off with a Girl: No, Child, we will not permit, may we have our Wills, that you shall think of giving us a Girl, till you have presented us with half a dozen fine Boys. For our Line is gone so low, that we expect that human Security from you in your first Seven Years, or we shall be disappointed, I can tell you that.

And now, Pamela, I will give you their Names, if my Brother and you approve of them: Your First shall be BILLY; my Lord Davers, and the Earl of C------, shall be Godfathers; and it must be doubly God-mother’d too, or I am afraid the Countess and I shall fall out about it. Your Second, shall be DAVERS; besure remember that——Your Third, shall be CHARLEY; your Fourth, JEMMY; your Fifth, HARRY; your Sixth——DUDLEY, if you will——and your Girl, if you had not rather call it PAMELA, shall be BARBARA——The rest you must name as you please.——And so, my Dear, I wish all Seven happily over with you.

I am glad you got safe to Town; and long to hear of Miss Darnford 's Arrival, because I know you’ll be out of your Biass in your new Settlement till then. She is a fine Lady; and writes the most to my Taste of any one of her Sex, that I know, next to you. I wish she’d be so kind to correspond with me. But besure don't omit to give me the Sequel of her Sister and Murray's Affair, and what you think will please me in relation to her. You do well to save yourself the Trouble of describing the Town and the publick Places.We are no Strangers to them; and they are toomuch our Table-talk, when any Country Lady has, for the first time, been carried to Town, and return’d: Besides, what London affords, is nothing that deserves Mention, compar’d to what we have seen at Paris, and at Versailles, and other of the French Palaces.