:

thy personages, the Champions of Christendom. In all these delight is mixed with instruction, and the reader is almost as much improved as entertained.

Ir is a trite but true observation, that But I pass by these and many others, to examples work more forcibly on the mind mention two books lately published, which thai precepts and if this be just in what represent an admirable pattern of the amiais olious and blameable, it is more strongly ble in either sex. The former of these, so in what is amiable and praiseworthy. which deals in male virtue, was written by Here emulation most effectually operates the great person himself, who lived the upon us, and inspires our imitation in an life he hath recorded, and is by many iresistible manner. A good man there- thought to have lived such a life only in for is a standing lesson to all his acquaint- order to write it. The other is commuance, and of far greater use in that narrow nicated to us by an historian who borrows cirde than a good book. his lights, as the common method is, from Bit, as it often happens, that the best authentic papers and records. The readmen are but little known, and consequent-er, I believe, already conjectures I mean ly cannot extend the usefulness of their the lives of Mr. Colley Cibber, and of Mrs. examples a great way; the writer may be Pamela Andrews. How artfully doth the called n aid to spread their history farther, former, by insinuating that he escaped beand to present the amiable pictures to those ing promoted to the highest stations in who have not the happiness of knowing church and state, teach us a contempt of the orignals; and so, by communicating worldly grandeur! how strongly doth he such valiable patterns to the world, he inculcate an absolute submission to our may perhaps do a more extensive service superiors! Lastly, how completely doth he to mankind, than the person whose life ori-arm us against so uneasy, so wretched a ginally afforded the pattern. passion as the fear of shame! how clearly doth he expose the emptiness and vanity of that phantom, reputation!

In this light I have always regarded those biographers who have recorded the actions of great and worthy persons of What the female readers are taught by both sexes. Not to mention those ancient the memoirs of Mrs. Andrews, is so well writers which of late days are little read, set forth in the excellent essays or letters being written in obsolete, and, as they are prefixed to the second and subsequent edigenerally thought, unintelligible langua- tions of that work, that it would be here a ges, such as Plutarch, Nepos, and others needless repetition. The authentic histowhich I heard of in my youth; our own ry with which I now present the public, language affords many of excellent use and is an instance of the great good that book instruction, finely calculated to sow the is likely to do, and of the prevalence of seeds of virtue in youth, and very easy to example which I have just observed: be comprehended by persons of moderate since it will appear that it was by keeping capacity. Such as the history of John the the excellent pattern of his sister's virtues Great, who, by his brave and heroic ac- before his eyes, that Mr. Joseph Andrews tions against men of large and athletic was chiefly enabled to preserve his purity bodies, obtained the glorious appellation of in the midst of such great temptations. I the Giant-killer; that of an earl of War- shall only add, that this character of male wick, whose Christian name was Guy; chastity, though doubtless as desirable and the lives of Argalus and Parthenia; and becoming in one part of the human speabove all, the history of those seven wor-cies as in the other, is almost the only

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virtue which the great Apologist hath not given himself for the sake of giving the example to his readers.

CHAPTER II.

Of Mr. Joseph Andrews, his birth, parentage, education, and great endowments; with a word or two concerning ancestors.

ble of acquiring honour; when we see many who have no virtues, enjoying the honour of their forefathers? At ten years old, (by which time his education was advanced to writing and reading,) he was bound an apprentice, according to the statute, to Sir Thomas Booby, an uncle of Mr. Booby's by the father's side. Sir Thomas having then an estate in his own hands, the young Andrews was at first employed in what in the country they call keeping birds. His MR. Joseph Andrews, the hero of our office was to perform the part the anensuing history, was esteemed to be the cients assigned to the god Priapus, which only son of Gaffer and Gammer Andrews, deity the moderns call by the name of and brother to the illustrious Pamela, Jack o'Lent; but his voice being so exwhose virtue is at present so famous. As tremely musical, that it rather allured the to his ancestors, we have searched with birds than terrified them, he was soon great diligence, but little success; being transplanted from the fields into the dogunable to trace them farther than his great kennel, where he was placed under the grandfather, who, as an elderly person in huntsman, and made what sportsmen term the parish remembers to have heard his whipper-in. For this place likewise the father say, was an excellent cudgel-play-sweetness of his voice disqualified him; er. Whether he had any ancestors be- the dogs preferring the melody of his chidfore this, we must leave it to the opinion ing to all the alluring notes of the huntsof our curious reader, finding nothing of man; who soon became so incensed at it, sufficient certainty to rely on. However, that he desired Sir Thomas to provide we cannot omit inserting an epitaph which otherwise for him; and constantly laid an ingenious friend of ours hath commu- every fault the dogs were at to the account nicated: of the poor boy, who was now transplanted to the stable. Here he soon gave proofs of strength and agility beyond his years, and constantly rode the most spirited and vicious horses to water, with an intrepidity which surprised every one. While he was in this station he rode several races for Sir

Stay, traveller, for underneath this pew Lies fast asleep that merry man Andrew: When the last day's great sun shall gild the skies, Then he shall from his tomb get up and rise. Be merry while thou canst, for surely thou Shalt shortly be as sad as he is now. The words are almost out of the stone with Thomas, and this with such expertness and antiquity. But it is needless to observe that Andrew here is wrote without an s, frequently solicited the knight to permit success that the neighbouring gertlemen and is, besides, a christian name. My little Joey (for so he was called) to ride friend moreover conjectures this to have their matches. The best gamesters, bebeen the founder of that sect of laughing fore they laid their money, always inquirphilosophers, since called Merry-Andrews. To waive therefore a circumstance, the bets were rather proportioned by the ed which horse little Joey was to ride; and which, though mentioned in conformity to rider than by the horse himself; especially the exact rules of biography, is not great-after he had scornfully refused a considerly material, I proceed to things of more able bribe to play booty on such an occonsequence. Indeed, it is sufficiently cer- casion. This extremely raised his charactain, that he had as many ancestors as the best man living; and perhaps, if we look ter, and so pleased the Lady Booby, that she five or six hundred years backwards, might teen years of age,) for her own footboy. desired to have him, (being now sevenbe related to some persons of very great Joey was now preferred from the stable to figure at present, whose ancestors within half the last century are buried in as great behind her chair, wait at her tea-table, and attend on his lady, to go on errands, stand obscurity. But suppose, for argument's sake, we should admit, that he had no an- carry her prayer-book to church; at which cestors at all, but had sprung up according distinguishing himself by singing psalms: place his voice gave him an opportunity of to the modern phrase, out of a dung-hill, as he behaved likewise in every other respect the Athenians pretended they themselves did from the earth, would not this autoko-mended him to the notice of Mr. Abraham so well at divine service, that it recompros* have been justly entitled to all the praise arising from his own virtues? Would it not be hard, that a man who hath no ancestors, should therefore be rendered incapa

* In English, sprung from a dung-hill.

Adams, the curate; who took an opporof ale in Sir Thomas's kitchen, to ask the tunity one day, as he was drinking a cup young man several questions concerning religion; with his answers to which he was wonderfully pleased.

CHAPTER III.

Of Mr. Abraham Adams the curate, Mrs. Slipslop

the chambermaid, and others.

gregation; and as how a field of corn ran down a hill with all the trees upon it, and covered another man's meadow.' This sufficiently assured Mr. Adams, that the good book meant could be no other than Baker's Chronicle.

side for a churchwarden in a borough of sixpence a week for his learning. He town, yet had been himself at the expense told him, likewise, that ever since he was MR. Abraham Adams was an excellent in Sir Thomas's family, he had employed scholar. He was a perfect master of the all his hours of leisure in reading good Greek and Latin languages; to which he books; that he had read the Bible, the added a great share of knowledge in the Whole Duty of Man, and Thomas à oriental tongues; and could read and Kempis; and that as often as he could, translate French, Italian, and Spanish. without being perceived, he had studied a He had applied many years to the most great book which lay open in the hall winsevere study, and had treasured up a fund dow, where he had read, 'as how the of learning rarely to be met with in an devil carried away half a church in seruniversity. He was, besides, a man of mon-time, without hurting one of the congood sense, good parts, and good nature; but was at the same time as entirely ignorant of the ways of this world as an infant just entered into it could possibly be. As he had never any intention to deceive, so he never suspected such a design in others. He was generous, friendly, and brave, to The curate, surprised to find such inan excess; but simplicity was his charac- stances of industry and application in a teristic: he did, no more than Mr. Colley young man who had never met with the Cibber, apprehend any such passions as least encouragement, asked him, if he did malice and envy to exist in mankind; not extremely regret the want of a liberal which was indeed less remarkable in a education, and the not having been born country parson, than in a gentleman who of parents who might have indulged his hath passed his life behind the scenes, a talents and desire of knowledge? To which place which hath been seldom thought the he answered, 'He hoped he had profited school of innocence, and where a very little somewhat better from the books he had observation would have convinced the read, than to lament his condition in this great Apologist that those passions have a world. That, for his part, he was perfectreal existence in the human mind. ly content with the state to which he was His virtue, and his other qualifications, called; that he should endeavour to imas they rendered him equal to his office, prove his talent, which was all required of so they made him an agreeable and valua- him; but not repine at his own lot, nor ble companion, and had so much endeared envy those of his betters.'-Well said my and well recommended him to a bishop, lad,' replied the curate; and I wish some that at the age of fifty he was provided who have read many more good books, with a handsome income of twenty-three nay, and some who have written good pounds a-year; which, however, he could books themselves, had profited so much by not make any great figure with, because them.' he lived in a dear country, and was a little encumbered with a wife and six children. It was this gentleman who having, as I have said, observed the singular devotion of young Andrews, had found means to question him concerning several particulars; as, how many books there were in the New Testament? which were they? how many chapters they contained? and such like; to all which, Mr. Adams privately said, he answered much better than Sir Thomas, or two other neighbouring justices of the peace, could probably have done.

Mr. Adams was wonderfully solicitous to know at what time, and by what opDortunity, the youth became acquainted with these matters: Joey told him, that he had very early learnt to read and write by the goodness of his father, who, though he had not interest enough to get him into a charity school, because a cousin of his father's landlord did not vote on the right

Adams had no nearer access to Sir Thomas or my lady, than through the waitinggentlewoman; for Sir Thomas was too apt to estimate men merely by their dress, or fortune; and my lady was a woman of gaiety, who had been blessed with a towneducation, and never spoke of any of her country neighbours by any other appellation than that of the Brutes. They both regarded the curate as a kind of domestic only, belonging to the parson of the parish, who was at this time at variance with the knight; for the parson had for many years lived in a constant state of civil war, or, which is perhaps as bad, of civil law, with Sir Thomas himself and the tenants of his manor. The foundation of this quarrel was a modus, by setting which aside an advantage of several shillings, per annum would have accrued to the rector; but he had not yet been able to accomplish his purpose; and had reaped hitherto nothing better from the suits than the pleasure,

(which he used indeed frequently to say was no sinall one,) of reflecting that he had utterly undone many of the poor tenants, though he had at the same time greatly impoverished himself.

behaved very thankfully and gratefully to him for his intended kindness, which he told him he never would forget, and at the same time received from the good man many admonitions concerning the regulaMrs. Slipslop, the waiting-gentlewoman, tions of his future conduct, and his persebeing herself the daughter of a curate, pre-verance in innocence and industry. served some respect for Adams: she professed great regard for his learning, and would frequently dispute with him on points of theology; but always insisted on a deference to be paid to her understanding, as she had been frequently at London, and knew more of the world than a country parson could pretend to.

She had in these disputes a particular advantage over Adams; for she was a mighty affecter of hard words, which she used in such a manner, that the parson, who durst not offend her by calling her words in question, was frequently at some loss to guess her meaning, and would have been much less puzzled by an Arabian manuscript.

CHAPTER IV.

What happened after their journey to London.

No sooner was young Andrews arrived at London, than he began to scrape an acquaintance with his party-coloured brethren, who endeavoured to make him despise his former course of life. His hair was cut after the newest fashion, and became his chief care; he went abroad with it all the morning in papers, and dressed it out in the afternoon. They could not however teach him to game, swear, drink, nor any other genteel vice the town abounded with. He applied most of his leisure hours to music, in which he greatly improved himself; and became so perfect a connoisseur in that art, that he led the opinion of all the other footmen at an opera, and they never condemned or applauded a single song contrary to his approbation or dislike. He was a little too forward in riots at the playhouses and assemblies; and when he attended his lady at church, (which was but seldom,) he behaved with less seeming devotion than formerly: however, if he was outwardly a pretty fellow, his morals re

Adams therefore took an opportunity one day, after a pretty long discourse with her on the essence, (or, as she pleased to term it, the incense,) of matter, to mention the case of young Andrews: desiring her to recommena nim to ner lady as a youth very susceptible of learning, and one whose instruction in Latin he would himself undertake; by which means he might be qualified for a higher station than that of a footman; and added, she knew it was in his master's power easily to provide for him in a better manner. He therefore desired that the boy might be left behind un-mained entirely uncorrupted, though he der his care.

was at the same time smarter and genteeler than any of the beaus in town, either in or out of livery.

La! Mr. Adams,' said Mrs. Slipslop, 'do you think my lady will suffer any preambles about any such matter? She is His lady, who had often said of him that going to London very concisely, and I am Joey was the handsomest and genteelest confidous would not leave Joey behind her footman in the kingdom, but that it was a on any account; for he is one of the gen-pity he wanted spirit, began now to find teelest young fellows you may see in a that fault no longer; on the contrary, she summer's day; and I am confidous she was frequently heard to cry out, Ay, there would as soon think of parting with a pair is some life in this fellow. She plainly of her gray mares, for she values herself as saw the effects which the town air hath much on the one as the other.' Adams on the soberest constitutions. She would would have interrupted her, but she pro- now walk out with him into Hyde Park in ceeded: And why is Latin more necessi-a morning, and when tired, which haptous for a footman than a gentleman? It pened almost every minute, would lean on is very proper that you clergymen must his arm, and converse with him in great learn it, because you can't preach without familiarity. Whenever she stept out of it: but I have heard gentlemen say in her coach, she would take him by the London, that it is fit for nobody else. I am confidous my lady would be angry with me for mentioning it; and I shall draw myself into no such delemy. At which words her lady's bell rung, and Mr. Adams was forced to retire; nor could he gain a second opportunity with her before their London journey, which happened a few days afterwards. However, Andrews

hand, and sometimes, for fear of stumbling, press it very hard; she admitted him to deliver messages at her bedside in a morning, leered at him at table, and indulged him in all those innocent freedoms which women of figure may permit without the least sully of their virtue.

But though their virtue remains unsullied, yet now and then some small arrows

But whatever opinion or suspicion the scandalous inclination of defamers might entertain of Lady Booby's innocent freedoms, it is certain they made no impression on young Andrews, who never offered to encroach beyond the liberties which his lady allowed him,—a behaviour which she imputed to the violent respect he preserved for her, and which served only to heighten a something she began to conceive, and which the next chapter will open a little farther.

will glance on the shadow of it, their repu- | had ever been in love. Joseph answered, tation; and so it fell out to Lady Booby, with some confusion, it was time enough who happened to be walking arm-in-arm for one so young as himself to think on with Joey one morning in Hyde Park, such things. 'As young as you are,' rewhen Lady Tittle and Lady Tattle came plied the lady, I am convinced you are accidentally by in their coach. 'Bless me,' no stranger to that passion. Come, Joey,' says Lady Tittle, can I believe my eyes? says she, tell me truly, who is the happy Is that Lady Booby?'-'Surely,' says Tat- girl whose eyes have made a conquest of tle. But what makes you surprised?'- you? Joseph returned, that all the wo"Why, is not that her footman?' replied men he had ever seen, were equally indifTittle. At which Tattle laughed, and cri- ferent to him. "O then,' said the lady, ed, an old business, I assure you: is it you are a general lover. Indeed, you possible you should not have heard it? The handsome fellows, like handsome women, whole town hath known it this half year.' are very long and difficult in fixing; but. The consequence of this interview was a yet you shall never persuade me that your whisper through a hundred visits, which heart is so insusceptible of affection; I were separately performed by the two la- rather impute what you say to your secredies the same afternoon, and might have cy, a very commendable quality, and what had a mischievous effect, had it not been I am far from being angry with you for. stopt by two fresh reputations which were Nothing can be more unworthy in a young published the day afterwards, and engross- man than to betray any intimacies with ed the whole talk of the town. the ladies.' 'Ladies! madam,' said Joseph, I am sure I never had the impudence to think of any that deserve that name.' 'Don't pretend to too much modesty,' said she, for that sometimes may be impertinent: but pray, answer me this question. Suppose a lady should happen to like you; suppose she should prefer you to all your sex, and admit you to the same familiarities as you might have hoped for if you had been born her equal, are you certain that no vanity could tempt you to discover her? Answer me honestly, Joseph; have you so much more sense, and so much more virtue, than you handsome young fellows generally have, who make no scruple of sacrificing our dear reputation to your pride, without considering the great obligation we lay on you by our condescension and confidence? Can you keep a secret, my Joey?' 'Madam,' says he, 'I hope your ladyship can't tax me with ever betraying the secrets of the family; and I hope, if you was to turn me away, might have that character of you.' 'I don't intend to turn you away, Joey,' said she, and sighed, 'I am afraid it is not in my power.' She then raised herself a little in her bed, and discovered one of the whitest necks that ever was seen; at which Joseph blushed; La!' says she, in an affected surprise, what am I doing? I have trusted myself with a man alone, naked in bed; suppose you should have any wicked intentions upon my honour, how should I defend myself? Joseph protested that he never had the least evil design against her. 'No,' says she, 'perhaps you may not call your designs wicked; and perhaps they are not so.'-He swore they were not. You misunderstand me,' says she; 'I mean, if they were against my honour, they may not be wickled; but the world calls them so. But

CHAPTER V.

The death of sir Thomas Booby, with the affectionale and mournful behaviour of his widow, and the great purity of Joseph Andrews.

At this time an accident happened, which put a stop to those agreeable walks which probably would have soon puffed up the cheeks of Fame, and caused her to blow her brazen trumpet through the town; and this was no other than the death of Sir Thomas Booby, who departing this life, left his disconsolate lady confined to her house, as closely as if she herself had been attacked by some violent disease. During the first six days the poor lady admitted none but Mrs. Slipslop, and three female friends, who made a party at cards; but on the seventh she ordered Joey, whom, for a good reason, we shall hereafter call JOSEPH, to bring up her tea-kettle. The lady being in bed, called Joseph to her, bade him sit down, and having accidentally laid her hand on his, she asked him, if he

It may seem an absurdity that Tattle should visit, as she actually did, to spread a known scandal: but the reader may reconcile this, by supposing, with me, that Dotwithstanding what she says this was her first acquaintance with it

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