I wanted him to say, whether her mother is living; and his words, ‘her mother is of a good family,’ left me no room to doubt it. And I said, ‘But how, sir, can the poor mother be content to deny herself the enjoyment of so sweet a child?’ ‘Ay, Pamela,’ replied he, ‘now you come in; I see you want to know what’s become of the poor mother. I was willing to see how the little suspense would operate upon you.’ ‘Dear sir,’ said I. ‘Nay,’ replied he, ‘’tis very natural, my dear! I think you have had a great deal of patience, and are come at this question so fairly, that you deserve to be answered.
‘You must know, then, there is some foundation for saying, that her mother is in Jamaica: there she does live, and very happily too. She suffered so much in childbed, that nobody expected her life; and this made such an impression upon her, that she dreaded nothing so much as the thoughts of falling into her former fault. To say the truth, I had intended to make her a visit, as soon as her month was up.359 She apprehended that I would; and, in order to avoid me, privately engaged herself to go to Jamaica, with two young ladies, who were born there; and were returning to their friends, after they had been four years in England for their education; recommending to me, by a very moving letter, her child, requesting that it might not be called by her name, but Goodwin, the better to conceal the disgrace she had brought upon her family.
‘She prevailed upon her friends to assign her five hundred pounds, in full of all her demands upon them; and went up to London, and embarked, with her companions, at Gravesend, and sailed to Jamaica. There she is since well and happily married; passing to her husband for a young widow, with one daughter, which her first husband’s friends take care of, and provide for. And so, you see, Pamela, that in the whole story, on both sides, the truth is as much preserved as possible.’
‘Poor lady!’ said I; ‘how much does her story affect me! I am glad she is so happy at last.’ ‘And, my dear,’ said he, ‘are you not glad she is so far off too?’ ‘As to that, sir,’ said I, ‘I cannot be sorry, especially as she could not have been made happy here. For, sir, have you not hinted –’ I stopt. ‘I have, my love. I know what you would say. The mind once tainted–’ He stopt. Ah, dear sir, thought I, once tainted! I am afraid. But let me hope the best.
‘How greatly, sir,’ said I, ‘is this unhappy lady to be admired! how much in earnest was she to be good, that she should leave her native country, leave all her relations, leave you, whom she so well loved, leave her dear baby, to try a new fortune, in a new world, among absolute strangers, hazarding seas and winds, to preserve herself from further guiltiness! Indeed, sir, I grieve for what her distresses must have been, on taking so noble a resolution; I am grieved to think of her remorse, through her childbed terrors: and great it must be to have so worthy an effect upon her afterwards. I honour her resolution, and must rank such a true penitent in the class of those who are most virtuous; and doubt not God Almighty’s mercies to her; and that her present happiness is the result of his gracious Providence, blessing her penitence. But, sir, did you not once see the poor lady before she went abroad?’
‘I did not believe her so much in earnest,’ answered he; ‘and I went down to Marlborough, and heard she was gone from thence to Cabe.360 I went to Calne, and heard she was gone to Reading, to a relation’s there. Thither I went, and heard she was gone to Oxford. I followed; and there she was; but would not see me.
‘She at last received a letter from me, in which I begged a meeting with her; for I found her departure with the ladies was resolved upon, and that she was with her friends, only to take leave of them, and receive her agreed-on portion: and she appointed the Saturday following, and that was Wednesday, to give me a meeting at the old place at Woodstock.
‘Then,’ added he, ‘I thought I was sure of her, and doubted not I should spoil her intended voyage.’ [Naughty, naughty man! thought I.] ‘I set out on Thursday to Gloucester on a party of pleasure; and on Saturday I went to the place appointed, at Woodstock: but, when I came thither, I found a letter instead of the lady; and, when I opened it, it was to beg my pardon for deceiving me; expressing her concern for her past fault, her affection for me; and the apprehension she had, that she should be unable to keep her good resolves, if she met me: she let me know, that she had set out the Thursday before for her embarkation; being apprehensive that no other measure could save her; and had appointed this meeting on Saturday, at the place of our mutual guilt, that I might be suitably impressed upon the occasion, and pity and allow for her; and that she might be out of my reach. She recommended again, as upon the spot to which the poor little-one owed its being, my tenderness to it for her sake: and that was all she had to request of me, she said; but would not forget to pray for me in all her own dangers, and in every difficulty she was going to encounter with.’
I wept at this moving tale: ‘And did not this make a deep impression upon you, sir?’ said I: ‘surely such an affecting lesson as this, on the very guilty spot too (I admire the poor lady’s pious contrivance!) must have had a great effect upon you. One would have thought, sir, it was enough to reclaim you for ever. All your naughty purposes, I make no doubt, were quite changed at the time.’
‘Why, my dear,’ replied he, ‘I was much affected, you may be sure, when I came to reflect: but at first I was so assured of being a successful tempter, that I could not bear she should so escape me; so much transcend me in heroical bravery: and I hastened away to Lord Davers, and got a bill of credit from him, upon his banker in London, for five hundred pounds; and set out for that metropolis, having called at Oxford, and got what light I could, as to the place where there was a probability of hearing of her, there.
‘When I arrived in town, which was not till Monday morning, I went to a place called Crosby-square,361 where the friends of the two ladies lived. She had set out in the flying-coach;362 got to the two ladies the same night; and, on Saturday, had set out with them for Gravesend, much about the time she led me to expect her at Woodstock.
‘You may suppose, that I was much concerned at this information. However, I got my bill of credit converted into money; and set out on Monday afternoon, and reached Gravesend that night; and there I understood, that she and the two ladies had gone on board from the very inn I put up at, in the morning, and the ship waited only for the wind, which then was turning about in its favour.
‘I got a boat directly, and went on board the ship, and asked for Mrs Godfrey. But judge you her surprize and confusion when she saw me. She had like to have fainted away. I offered any money to put off the sailing till next day, but it could not be complied with; and fain would I have got her on shore, and promised to attend her (if she would go) over land, to any part of England the ship would touch at. But she was immoveable.
‘Every one concluded me her humble servant, and was affected at the tender interview; the young ladies, and their female attendants, especially. With great difficulty, upon my solemn assurances of honour, she trusted herself with me in one of the cabins; and there I endeavoured, all I could, to prevail upon her to quit her purpose: but all in vain: she said, I had made her quite unhappy by this interview! She had difficulties enough upon her mind before: but now I had embittered all her voyage, and given her the deepest distress.
‘I could prevail upon her but for one favour, and that she granted with the utmost reluctance; which was, to accept of the five hundred pounds, as a present from me; and she promised, at my earnest desire, to draw upon me for a greater sum, as upon a person who had her effects in my hands, when she arrived, if she should find it convenient for her. This, I say, was all the favour I could procure; for she would not promise so much as to correspond with me, and was so determined on going, that, I believe, if I would have married her, (which yet I had not in my head to do) she would not have been diverted from her purpose.’
‘But how, sir,’ said I, ‘did you part?’ ‘I would have sailed with her,’ answered he, ‘and been landed at the first port they should touch at, either in England or Ireland
: but she was too full of apprehensions to admit it; and the rough fellow of a master would not stay a moment, the wind being quite fair. He was very urgent with me to go ashore, or to go the voyage: I could have thrown him overboard in my mind; for being impetuous in my temper, spoiled, you know, my dear, by my mother, and not used to controul, I thought it very strange, that wind or tide, or any thing else, should be preferred to me and my money: finding myself obliged to submit, I wished the ladies and the other passengers a good voyage; I gave five guineas among the ship’s crew, to be good to the ladies. The unhappy lady recommended, once more, to me, the dear guest, as she called the child, the ladies being present; and thanked me for all the instances of regard I had shewn her in this attendance, which, she said, would leave too strong impression on her mind for her peace. At parting, she threw her arms about my neck, and we took such a leave as affected every one present.
‘With a truly heavy heart, I went into my boat; and stood up in it, looking at her, as long as I could see her, and she at me, with her handkerchief at her eyes; and then I gazed at the ship, till and after I had landed, as long as I could discern the least appearance of it; for she was under sail, in a manner, when I left her.
‘I returned, highly disturbed, to my inn. I went to bed; but rested not; set out for London the next morning; and the same afternoon for the country. And so much, my dear, for poor Sally Godfrey.
‘She sends, I understand, by all opportunities, with the knowledge of her husband, to enquire how her child, by her first husband, does; and has the satisfaction to know she is happily provided for. About half a year ago her husband sent a little Negro boy, of about ten years old, as a present, to wait upon her. But he was taken ill of the small-pox, and died in a month after he was landed.’
‘Sure, sir,’ said I, ‘you must have been long affected with a case so melancholy in its circumstances.’
‘I will own, that the whole of the affair hung upon me for some time: but I was full of spirits and inconsideration. New objects of pleasure danced before my eyes, and kept reflection from me. I pursued them, even to satiety; and, at last, thought it was a kind of virtue to resolve to confine myself to one woman; and hoped, for a long time together, as my Pamela advanced to maturity, one day to prevail with her to be Sally Godfrey the second.’
‘O sir! what a sad, sad account this is! I bless God for this disappointment: for your own sake, dear sir, as well as mine, I bless God for it.’
‘And so do I, my dear,’ replied he. ‘And you will the less doubt my sincerity, when I tell you, that I have the more pleasure in my reformation, for having seen my error so early; and that with such a stock of youth and health on my side, in all appearance, I can truly abhor my past liberties, and pity poor Sally Godfrey, from the same motives that I admire my Pamela’s virtue; and resolve to make myself as worthy of them as possible. And, to be more serious still, let me add, that I hope your prayers, my dear, for my pardon and perseverance, and your example, will not want their efficacy.’
These agreeable reflections, on this melancholy, but instructive story, brought us in view of his own house; where we alighted, and took a walk in the garden till dinner-time. And now we are so busy about making ready for our appearance, that I shall hardly have time to write till all that be over.
MONDAY Morning
Yesterday we set out, attended by John, Abraham, Benjamin, and Isaac, in new liveries, in the best chariot, which has been new-fitted, and lined and harnessed; so that it looked like a quite new one. But I had no arms to quarter363 with those of my dear husband. Upon my taking notice of my obscurity on this occasion, he smilingly said, that he had a good mind to have the olive-branch,364 which would allude to his hopes, quartered for mine. I was dressed in the suit I mentioned, of white flowered with silver, and a rich head-dress, and the jewels I mentioned before: Mr B. had on a fine laced silk waistcoat, of blue Paduasoy365; his coat was a pearl-coloured fine cloth, with silver buttons and button-holes, and lined with white silk. He looked charmingly indeed.
I said, I was too fine, and would fain have had the jewels omitted; but he would not allow it. ‘Are you not my wife?’ said he. ‘I had rather people should have any thing to say, than that I do not put you, as such, upon a foot with any woman I might have married.’ The neighbouring gentry, it seems, had expected us; and there was a great congregation; for (against my wish) we were a little of the latest; so that, as we walked up the church, to his seat, we had abundance of gazers and whisperers: but my dear Mr B. behaved with an air so chearful, and was so complaisant to me, that he did credit to his choice; and as it became me to think of nothing but the duties of the sacred day, and of thankfulness to God, for his mercies to me, my intentness to them so much engaged my heart, that I was much less concerned, than I should otherwise have been, at the gazings and whisperings of the ladies and gentlemen, as well as of the rest of the congregation; whose eyes were all turned to our seat.
When the sermon was ended, we staid till the church was near empty; but we found great numbers of people at the church-doors and in the porch: I had the pleasure of hearing many commendations, as well of my behaviour as my person and dress, and not one mark of disrespect. Mr Martin, who is a single man, was there, as well as Mr Chambers, Mr Arthur, and Mr Brooks, with their families. And the four gentlemen came up to us, before we went into the chariot, and, in a very kind and respectful manner, complimented us both. Mrs Arthur and Mrs Brooks were so kind as to wish me joy; and Mrs Brooks said, ‘You sent Mr Brooks home, madam, t’other day, quite charmed with that easy and sweet manner, which you have convinced a thousand persons, this day, is so natural to you.’ I courtsied gratefully to her; and said, she did me honour.
My dear Mr B. handed me into the chariot, but was prevented from stepping into it himself by the officiousness of Sir Thomas Atkyns, a ceremonious young baronet, who very unseasonably, as I thought, engaged him with fine speeches, though Mr B. made several motions to come into the chariot to me. Mean time, I was abashed to hear the praises of the country-people, and to see how they crouded about the chariot. Several poor people begged my charity. Beckoning John with my fan, I gave him all the silver I had, which happened to be between twenty and thirty shillings, and bid him divide it among them in the further part of the churchyard; and to tell them to come next morning to Mr B.’s, and I would give them more, if they would not importune me now. This drew away from me their clamorous solicitations.
While Sir Thomas Atkyns was thus unseasonably engaging Mr B., and telling him a story, at which he himself heartily laughed, Mr Martin came up to me on the other side of the chariot, and leaned on the door. ‘By all that’s good,’ said he, ‘you have charmed the whole congregation. Not a soul but is full of your praises. My neighbour knew, better than any body could tell him, how to chuse for himself. Why,’ said he, ‘the Dean himself looked more upon you, than upon his book.’
‘It is generous in you, sir,’ said I, ‘to encourage a diffident heart.’ ‘I vow,’ said he, ‘I say no more than truth: I would marry to-morrow, if I were sure of meeting with a woman of but half your merit. You are,’ continued he, ‘and ’tis not my way to praise too much, an ornament to your sex, an honour to your husband, and a credit to religion. Every body is saying so,’ added he; ‘for you have, by your piety, edified the whole church.’
The Dean made me a compliment as he passed. And, at last, Mr B. forced himself from Sir Thomas; who aukwardly apologized to me for detaining him so long.
Mr Martin told Mr B., that if he would come to church every Sunday, with his bride, he would never be absent from it. I told Mr B. that I was obliged to Mr Martin, for his countenance on his being detained from me.
Mr B., in a very obliging manner, returned Mr Martin’s compliment; who then went to his own chariot. When we drove away, the people kindly blessed us, and called us a charming pair.
As I have no other pride, I hope, in repeating these things, than in the countenance the general approbation gives to my dear master for h
is stooping so low, you will excuse me for it, I know.
In the afternoon, we went again to church, and a little early, at my request; but it was quite full, and, soon after, even crouded; so much does novelty attract the eyes of mankind. Mr Martin came in, after us, and made up to our seat; and said, ‘If you please, my dear friend, I will take my seat with you this afternoon.’ Mr B. let him in. I was sorry for it; but was resolved that my duty should not give place to bashfulness, or to any other consideration; and when divine service began, I withdrew to the further end of the pew, and left the gentlemen in the front.
The Dean preached again, which he was not used to do, out of compliment to us; and an excellent sermon he made on the relative duties of Christianity. Mr Martin addressed himself twice or thrice to me, during the sermon; but he found my attention so wholly ingrossed by the preacher, that he each time soon re-seated himself; yet I took care, according to the lesson formerly given me, to observe to him a chearful and obliging behaviour, as one of Mr B.’s friends. My master invited him to supper; and he said, ‘I am so taken with your lady, that, if you encourage me, I shall be always with you.’ ‘The oftener the more obliging,’ replied Mr B.; ‘and who knows but my example may reform another rake?’ ‘Who knows?’ said Mr Martin; ‘I know: for I am more than half reformed already.’
At the chariot-door, Mrs Arthur, Mrs Brooks, and Mrs Chambers, were brought to me, by their respective husbands; and presently they were joined by the lively Miss Towers, who bantered me before, as I once told you. Mrs Arthur said, that all the ladies, my neighbours, would collect themselves together, and make me a visit. ‘This,’ said I, ‘will be an honour, madam, that I can never enough acknowledge.’