and, like that poor prisoner, if I, Sir, reason of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, even to make you, as the great Felix did, tremble, don't put me off to another day, to a more convenient season, as that governor did Paul; for you must bear patiently with all I have to say.' Strange, uncommon girl! how unaccountable is all this!-Pr'ythee, my dear,' and he pulled a chair by him, 'come and sit down by me, and without these romantic airs let me hear all you have to say; and tease me not with this parade.' 'No, Sir, let me stand, if you please, while I can stand; when I am weary, I will sit down at my bar. Now, Sir, since you are so good as to say, you have nothing but change of temper to accuse me of, I am to answer to that, and assign a cause; and I will do it without evasion or reserve: but I beseech you say not one word, but Yes or No, to my questions, till I have said all I have to say, and then you shall find me all silence and resignation. Well, my strange dear !—But sure your head is a little turned!-What is your question?' Whether, Sir, the Nun-I speak boldly; the case requires it-who followed you at the Masquerade every where, is not the Countess of .?' 'What then, my dear?'-(speaking with quickness) I thought the occasion of your sullenness and reserve was this!-But, Pamela-- " Nay, Sir,' interrupted I, only Yes or No if you please; I will be all silence by-and-by. Yes, then.'Well, Sir, then let me tell you, for I ask you not, (it may be too bold in me to multiply questions) that she loves you; that you correspond by letters with her-Yes, Sir, before that letter from her ladyship came, which you received from my hand in so short and angry a manner, for fear I should have had a curiosity to see its contents, which would have been inexcusable in me, I own, if I had. You have talked over to her all your polygamy notions, and her ladyship seems so well convinced of them, that she has declared to her noble uncle, (who expostulated with her on the occasions she gave for talk) that she had rather be a certain gentleman's second wife, than the first to the greatest man in England: and you are but just returned from a journey to Tunbridge, in which that lady was a party; and the motive for it, I am acquainted with, by a letter here in my hand.'

He was displeased and frowned: I looked down, being resolved not to be terrified if I could help it. I have cautioned you, Pamela' I know you have, Sir,' interrupted but be pleased to answer me. Has not the Countess

I;

She has :-and

taken a house or lodgings at Tunbridge?" what then?' And is her ladyship there or in town?' "There-and what then?' 'Are you to go to Tunbridge, Sir, soon, or not?-Be pleased to answer me but that one question.' I will know,' rising up in anger, your informants, Pamela.' Dear Sir, so you shall, in proper time: you shall know all, as soon as I am convinced, that your wrath will not be attended with bad consequences to yourself and others. That is wholly the cause of my reserve in this point; for I have not a thought, and never had, since I have been yours, that I wish to be concealed from you.But, dear Sir, your knowledge of the informants make nothing at all as to the truth of the information-Nor will I press you too home. I doubt not, you are soon to go down to Tunbridge again.' I am, and what then ?-Must the consequence be crime enough to warrant your jealousy?' 'Dear Sir, don't be so very angry,' still looking down; for I durst not trust myself to look up. I don't do this as you charged me in your letter, in a spirit of matrimonial recrimination if you don't tell me, that you see the Countess with pleasure, I ask it not of you; nor have I any thing to say by way of upbraiding. 'Tis my misfortune, that she is too lovely, and too attractive: and it is the less wonder that a fine young gentleman as you are, and a fine young lady as she is, should engage one another's affections. I knew every thing, except what this letter, which you shall read presently, communicates, when you brought the two noble sisters to visit me hence proceeded my grief; and should I, Sir, have deserved to be what I am, if I was not grieved? Religion has helped me, and God has answered my supplications, and enabled me to act this new and uncommon part before you at this imaginary bar. You shall see, Sir, that as, on one hand, I want not, as I said before, to move your passions in my favour; so, on the other, I shall not be terrified by your displeasure, dreaded by me as it used to be, and as it will be again, the moment that my raised spirits sink down to their usual level, or are diverted from this my long meditated purpose, to tell you all my mind. I repeat then, Sir, that I knew all this, when the two noble sisters came to visit your poor girl, and to see your Billy. Yet, grave as the Countess called me, (dear Sir! might I not well be grave, knowing what I knew?) did I betray any impatience of speech or action, or any discomposure? No Sir, patting my hand on my breast, here all my discomposure lay, struggling, ve

hemently struggling, now-and-then, and wanting that vent of my eyes, which it seems (overcome by my joy, to hear myself favourably spoken of by you and the lady) it too soon made itself. But I could not help it-You might have seen, Sir, I could not. But I want neither to recriminate or expostulate; nor yet, Sir, to form excuses for my general conduct; for that you accuse not in the main-but be pleased, Sir, to read this letter. It was brought by the penny-post, as you'll see by the mark. Who the writer is, I know not. And did you, Sir, that knowledge, and your resentment upon it, will not alter the fact, or give it a more favourable appearance.'

I stepped to him, and giving him the letter, came back to my bar, and sat down on one of the chairs while he read it, drying my eyes; for they would overflow as I talked, do what I could. He was much moved at the contents of this letter: called it damned malice, and hoped he might find out the author of it, saying he would advertise 500 guineas reward for the discoverer. He put the letter in his pocket. 'Well, Pamela, you believe all that you have said, no doubt; and this matter has a black appearance, indeed, if you do. But who was your first informant ?-Was that by letter or personally? That damned Turner, I doubt not, is at the bottom of all this. The vain coxcomb has had the insolence to imagine the Countess would favour an address of his; and is enraged to meet with a repulse; and has taken liberties upon it, that have given birth to all the scandals which have been scattered about on this occasion. Nor do I doubt but he has been the Serpent at the ear of my Eve.' I stood up at my bar, and said—' Don't be too hasty, Sir, in your judgment-You may be mistaken.' 'But am I mistaken, Pamela ?—You never yet told me an untruth in cases the most important to you to conceal. Am I mistaken ?' • Dear Sir, if I should tell you it is not Mr Turner, you'll guess at somebody else: and what avails all this to the matter in hand? You are your own master, and must stand or fall by your own conscience. God grant that that may acquit you!-But my intention is not either to accuse or upbraid you.' But, my dear, to the fact, then :-This is a malicious and a villanous piece of intelligence, given you, perhaps, for the sake of designs and views, that may not yet be proper to be avowed.' By God's grace, Sir, I defy all designs and views of any one upon my honour!' But, my dear, the charge is basely false; we have not agreed upon

any such way of life.' Well, Sir, all this only proves, that the intelligence may be a little premature. But now let me, Sir, sit down one minute or two, to recover my failing spirits, and then I'll tell you all I propose to do, and all I have and that with as much brevity as I can, for fear neither my head nor my heart should perform the parts I have been so long endeavouring to prevail upon them to perform.'

to say,

I sat down then, he taking the letter out of his pocket, and looking upon it again, with much vexation and anger in his countenance, and after a few tears and sobs, that would needs be so officious as to offer their services unbidden and undesired, to introduce what I had to say; I rose up, my feet trembling, as well as my knees; which, however, leaning against the seats of the chairs, which made my bar, as my hand held by the back, tolerably supported me, I cleared my voice, wiped my eyes, and said--

• Present

You have all the excuses, dear Mr B., that a gentleman can have in the object of your present passion.' #passion, Pamela!' Dear Sir, hear me out without interruption. The Countess is a charming lady. She excels your poor girl in all those outward graces of form, which your kind fancy (more valued by me than the opinion of all the world besides) had made you attribute to me. And she has all those additional advantages, as nobleness of birth, of alliance, and deportment, which I want, (happy for you, Sir, that you had known her ladyship some months ago, before you disgraced yourself by the honours you have done me !) This therefore frees you from the aggravated crime of those, who prefer to their own ladies less amiable and less deserving persons; and I have not the sting which those must have, who are contemned and ill treated for the sake of their inferiors. Yet cannot the Countess love you better than your girl loves you, not even for your person, which must, I doubt, be her principal attachment; when I can truly say, all noble and attracting to the outward eye as it is, that is the least consideration by far with me; no. Sir, it is your mind, your generous and beneficent mind, that is the principal object of my affection; and the pride I took in hoping that I might be an humble means, in the hands of Providence, to bless you hereafter as well as here, gave me more pleasure than all the blessings I reaped from your name or your fortune. Judge then, my dearest Mr B., what my grief and my disappointment must be! But I will not expostulate, I will not, because it must be to no purpose; for

could my fondness for you, and my watchful duty to you, have kept you steady, I should not now have appeared before you in this solemn manner; and I know the charms of my rival are too powerful for me to contend with. Nothing but divine grace can touch your heart; and that I expect not, from the nature of the case, should be instantaneous. I will, therefore, Sir, dear as you are to me (Don't look with such tender surprise upon me!) give up your person to my happier, to my worthier rival. For, since such is your will, and such seem to be your engagements, what avails it to me to oppose them? I have only to beg, therefore, that you will be so good as to permit me to go down to Kent, to my dear parents, who, with many more, are daily rejoicing in your favour and bounty. I will there,' (holding up my folded hands) pray for you every hour of my life; and for every one who shall be dear to you, not excepting your charming Countess. I will never take your name into my lips, nor suffer any other in my hearing, but with reverence and gratitude, for the good I and mine have reaped at your hands; nor will I wish to be freed from my obligations to you, except you shall choose to be divorced from me; and if you should, I will give your wishes all the forwardness that I honourably can, with regard to my own character and yours, and that of your beloved baby. you must give me something worth living for along with me; your Billy and mine ;-unless it is your desire to kill me quite! and then, 'tis done, and nothing will stand in your happy Countess's way, if you tear from my arms my second earthly good after I am deprived of you my first. I will there, Sir, dedicate all my time to my first duties; happier far, than once I could have hoped to be! And if, by any accident, and misunderstanding between you, you should part by consent, and you will have it so, my heart shall be ever yours, and my hopes shall be resumed of being an instrument still for your future good, and I will receive your returning ever-valued heart, as if nothing had happened, the moment I can be sure it will be wholly mine. For, think not, dear Sir, whatever be your notions of polygamy, that I will, were my life to depend upon it, consent to live with a gentleman, dear as, God is my witness,' (lifting up my tearful eyes) you are to me, who lives in what I cannot but think open sin with another! You know, Sir, and I appeal to you for the purity, and I will aver piety, of my motives, when I say this, that I would not; and as you do know this,

But