Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded

by Samuel Richardson

And be sure, my dear, continued he, let no little accidents ruffle your temper. I shall never forget once that I was at Lady Arthur’s; and a footman happened to stumble, and let fall a fine china dish, and broke it all to pieces: It was grievous to see the uneasiness it gave the poor lady: And she was so sincere in it, that she suffered it to spread all over the company; and it was a pretty large one too; and not a person in it but turned either her consoler, or fell into stories of the like misfortunes; and so we all became, for the rest of the evening, nothing but blundering footmen, and careless servants, or were turned into broken jars, plates, glasses, tea-cups, and such like brittle substances. And it affected me so much, that, when I came home, I went to bed, and dreamt, that Robin, with the handle of his whip, broke the fore glass of my chariot; and I was so solicitous, methought, to keep the good lady in countenance for her anger, that I broke his head in revenge, and stabbed one of my coach-horses. And all the comfort I had when it was done, methought, was, that I had not exposed myself before company; and there were no sufferers, but guilty Robin, and one innocent coach-horse.

I was exceedingly diverted with the facetious hints, and the pleasant manner in which he gave them; and I promised to improve by the excellent lessons contained in them.

I then went up and dressed myself, as like a bride as I could, in my best clothes; and, on inquiry, hearing my dearest master was gone to walk in the garden, I went to find him out. He was reading in the little alcove; and I said, Sir, am I licensed to intrude upon you?—No, my dear, said he, because you cannot intrude. I am so wholly yours, that, wherever I am, you have not only a right to join me, but you do me a very acceptable favour at the same time.

I have, sir, said I, obeyed your first kind injunction, as to dressing myself before dinner; but may be you are busy, sir. He put up the papers he was reading, and said, I can have no business or pleasure of equal value to your company, my dear. What were you going to say?—Only, sir, to know if you have any more kind injunctions to give me?—I could hear you talk a whole day together.—You are very obliging, Pamela, said he; but you are so perfectly what I wish, that I might have spared those I gave you; but I was willing you should have a taste of my freedom with you, to put you upon the like with me: For I am confident there can be no friendship lasting, without freedom, and without communicating to one another even the little caprices, if my Pamela can have any such, which may occasion uneasiness to either.

Now, my dear, said he, be so kind as to find some fault with me, and tell me what you would wish me to do, to appear more agreeable to you. O sir, said I, and I could have kissed him, but for shame, (To be sure I shall grow a sad fond hussy,) I have not one single thing to wish for; no, not one!—He saluted me very kindly, and said, He should be sorry if I had, and forbore to speak it. Do you think, my dear sir, said I, that your Pamela has no conscience? Do you think, that because you so kindly oblige her, and delight in obliging her, that she must rack her invention for trials of your goodness, and knows not when she’s happy?—O my dearest sir, added I, less than one half of the favours you have so generously conferred upon me, would have exceeded my utmost wishes!

My dear angel, said he, and kissed me again, I shall be troublesome to you with my kisses, if you continue thus sweetly obliging in your actions and expressions. O sir, said I, I have been thinking, as I was dressing myself, what excellent lessons you teach me!

When you commanded me, at your table to cheer the doubting mind and comfort the uneasy heart, and to behave most kindly to those who have least reason to expect it, and are most inferior; how sweetly, in every instance that could possibly occur, have you done this yourself by your poor, unworthy Pamela, till you have diffused, in your own dear words, ease, pleasure, and tranquillity, around my glad heart!

Then again, sir, when you bid me not be disturbed by little accidents, or by strangers coming in upon me unexpectedly, how noble an instance did you give me of this, when, on our happy wedding-day, the coming of Sir Charles Hargrave, and the other two gentlemen, (for which you were quite unprovided, and which hindered our happiness of dining together on that chosen day,) did not so disturb you, but that you entertained the gentlemen pleasantly, and parted with them civilly and kindly! What charming instances are these, I have been recollecting with pleasure, of your pursuing the doctrine you deliver.

My dear, said he, these observations are very kind in you, and much to my advantage: But if I do not always (for I fear these were too much accidents) so well pursue the doctrines I lay down, my Pamela must not expect that my imperfections will be a plea for her nonobservance of my lessons, as you call them; for, I doubt I shall never be half so perfect as you; and so I cannot permit you to recede in your goodness, though I may find myself unable to advance as I ought in my duty.

I hope, sir, said I, by God’s grace, I never shall. I believe it, said he; but I only mention this, knowing my own defects, lest my future lessons should not be so well warranted by my practice, as in the instances you have kindly recollected.