Richardson's Characterization of Mr. B. and Double Purpose in ...

American Society for Eighteenth Century Studies (ASECS) 

Richardson's Characterization of Mr. B. and Double Purpose in Pamela 

Author(s): Gwendolyn B. Needham 

Reviewed work(s): 

Source: Eighteenth-Century Studies, Vol. 3, No. 4 (Summer, 1970), pp. 433-474 

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Richardson's Characterization 

of Mr. B. 

and Double Purpose 

in Pamela 

GWENDOLYN B. NEEDHAM 

F or over two hundred years critics-whether defenders or detractors-helped 

place Samuel Richardson in the anomalous position 

of a novelist whose power of psychological analysis is universally 

acknowledged but whose knowledge of his own sex is generally 

disparaged. The reality accorded his heroines was denied his heroes 

-Mr. B., Robert Lovelace, and Sir Charles Grandison-and his 

own masculinity has often been questioned. "Grandison is an inconsistent 

angel, Lovelace is an absolute devil, and Booby is a 

perfect ass," concludes a detractor in 1754 and attributes Richardson's 

failures in male characterization either to "a weakness of the 

head or a badness of the heart." I Echoes of this caustic verdict are 

still heard today, although the cause of authorial failure is now 

ascribed to male hormone deficiency, which produced "essential 

femininity of nature and interests." 

During the last thirty years, however, especially in the past decade, 

we find (concurrent with an increase in Richardson studies) this 

traditional attitude increasingly challenged. Explanation of Richardson's 

analytical power has now shifted to an exploration of his 

conscious and unconscious psyche, with a growing emphasis on his 

self-identification with the rakish make-up. Morris Golden, for 

example, asserts that Richardson's men, more convincingly projected 

than his women, are expressions of the author's fantasies, and 

that Lovelace is his "best realized character." 2 Acknowledging the 

1 Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, and Pamela [London, 

1754] in Augustan Reprint Society Publication no. 21, ser. 4, no. 3 (Los Angeles, 

1950), pp. 57-58. 

2 Richardson's Characters (Ann Arbor, 1963), pp. 46, 10, 5, 19. See preface 

and pp. 2-3. Golden's list of previous critics who have suggested Richardson's selfidentification 

with rakish make-up. 

433

434 EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY STUDIES 

benefits of a more critical analysis of the heroes, many reviewers 

have regarded Golden's generalizations as more interesting than 

convincing, apparently feeling he has better analyzed the author's 

psyche than that of his characters. Owen Jenkins wishes that 

Golden had considered "Richardson's novels as works of art as 

well as autobiographical documents and Richardson's characters 

as conscious creations as well as unconscious revelations" and cogently 

concludes that "until the critics begin to examine Richardson's 

artistry with the care Golden has lavished upon his psyche, 

our understanding of Richardson's novels, and of his characters, 

will be limited by the gratuitous assumption that Richardson was a 

great artist only when he did not know what he was doing."' 

Such an assumption is omnipresent in the critical history of Richardson's 

first novel, Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded, the reception of 

which can perhaps be best described as an eighteenth-century 

"happening." Followed promptly by Fielding's Shamela, the furor 

of the happening turned into a cause celebre, set up a critical rivalry 

between Richardson and Fielding, and thus started a controversy 

between pro-Pamelists and anti-Pamelists that is still alive and 

unfortunately too often colors attempts at objective critical judgment 

of either author.4 In spite of Dr. Johnson's efforts to establish 

Richardson's superiority in craftsmanship as well as virtue, the view 

that Fielding was a conscious, Richardson an unconscious artist 

became a traditional one.5 Even today staunch admirers of Richardson 

and his heroine make little defense of the novel itself, apparently 

agreeing that it lacks "unity of conception and construction," and 

that Richardson just blundered into a "new species of writing," by 

chance achieving a lucky hit which aroused international interest, 

praise, denunciation, imitation, and parody.6 According to Ian 

3Owen Jenkins, "Review," Modern Language Quarterly, 25 (1964), 372-374; 

see also Ian Watt, "Review," English Language Notes, 20 (1964-65), 136-138; 

Martin Battestin, "Review," Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 63 

(1964), 797-800; Times Literary Supplement, 18 June 1964, p. 529. 

4 Bernard Kreissman, Pamela/Shamela (Ann Arbor, 1960), gives a discussion 

and bibliography of the controversy up to 1960. 

5 Frank Kermode argues for a reestablishment of Johnson's estimate in "Richardson 

and Fielding," Cambridge Journal (Nov., 1950), pp. 106-114. 

6 A typical example is Robert Donovan's "The Problem of Pamela, or, Virtue 

Unrewarded," Studies in English Literature, 3 (1963), 377-395. Declaring the 

novel's vitality "cannot be destroyed by its artistic crudity," Mr. Donovan further 

observes, "I do not want to rest my argument on the assumption of Richardson's 

conscious awareness that the central dilemma of the novel is not so much moral as

PAMELA 435 

Watt, one of the few to uphold Richardson as a conscious artist in 

Pamela, the general conclusion about the birth of the English novel 

is "that although Samuel Richardson was undoubtedly the father, 

his first-born child, Pamela, was probably an unplanned accident." ' 

The purpose of this essay is to show by close analysis that, contrary 

to the traditional opinion, Richardson gives us a thorough and 

realistic characterization of Mr. B., in whose successful creation he 

demonstrates his knowledge of the male psyche and his powers of 

conscious artistry, both of which are effectively displayed in the 

author's careful integration of the villain-hero's consistent psychological 

motivation with his protagonist's role in the plot. A 

further purpose is to point out how awareness of Mr. B.'s complete 

character and role leads to a clearer understanding of Pamela's 

character and role, to a better appreciation of Richardson's dramatic 

interplay of their personalities, to a revelation of the author's 

double purpose, and to a deeper realization of his conscious 

craftsmanship in constructing a closely integrated plot which 

achieves both his double purpose and the story's predetermined 

happy ending. In short, if the little printer gave his villain-hero a 

fuller characterization, a more plausible psychological motivation, 

and a more dynamic role than has generally been credited, then 

critical judgments of the author and his Pamela must be somewhat 

revised.8 

social, because I am not certain how fully he understood the basis of his own art." 

See also Robert A. Day, Told in Letters (Ann Arbor, 1966), p. 209. Contemporary 

interest in a reassessment of Richardson and of his first novel is indicated by 

the publication of Rosemary Cowler, ed., Twentieth Century Interpretations of 

Pamela (Englewood Cliffs, N. J., 1969). 

7 Listener, 4 Feb. 1965, pp. 177-180; reprinted in The Novel as Innovator (London, 

1965). See also James Sutherland, "The Paradox of Samuel Richardson," 

Times (London), 4 July 1961, p. 11; A. M. Kearney, "Richardson's Pamela: the 

Aesthetic Case," Review of English Literature, 7 (1966), 78-90, and particularly 

M. Kinkead-Weekes's excellent introduction to Pamela, Everyman's Library ed. 

(1962), pp. vi-xiii. Kearney treats both parts of Pamela as one whole; Watt and 

Sutherland consider only the First Part (1740) as one whole. Andrew Wright has 

recently defended Richardson's artistry in Pamela in a paper read at the University 

Eighteenth-Century Society All-Campus Conference, University of California at 

Los Angeles, 1 Nov. 1969. 

8 This discussion will consider only the initial two-volume Pamela: or, Virtue 

Rewarded (London, 1740). The 1742 two-volume sequel dealing with Pamela in 

her "exalted condition" is not included, for Richardson made it clear in his letters 

and in his original preface to the sequel that he considered the 1740 Pamela as a 

completed whole and had no intention of "carrying the piece" further until forced 

by the circumstance of a false continuation (see letter to James Leake, August, 

1741 in Selected Letters of Samuel Richardson, ed. John Carroll [Oxford, 1964],


Except for his inclusion among Golden's "bold young men,"' 

Mr. B. has been either ignored by critics or dismissed in one damning 

epithet-"booby," "cipher," "wooden stick," unbelievable monster," 

"satyr," and (unkindest cut of all), "vague father-figure." Since 

Mr. B.'s importance to the plot, purpose, and total effect of the 

novel is obvious, one wonders why such casual treatment has been 

so long accorded him. Perhaps prejudicial belief in Richardson's 

essential femininity blinded critics, and continued comparison with 

Fielding's virile masculinity has only reinforced this view. The low 

rating of Pamela as a novel has often been ascribed to Mr. B.'s 

supposed woodenness-a failure to "come alive." In my opinion, 

however, the book's subtitle and its narrative form chiefly explain 

the misreading, misunderstanding, and inadequate appreciation. 

The fatal words Virtue Rewarded have served too often as either 

a lily-white standard or a red flag to the critics, who thereupon 

debate the utilitarian Puritan code of morality, neglecting the novel 

itself. The subtitle also has focused debate on the "virtue" of Pamela 

rather than on her total characterization and solely on her reward 

rather than on the reward of others. 

More important, the epistolary form so rivets attention on the 

heroine-narrator that the hero's true characterization may escape 

the average reader. Fascinated by Pamela's emotional and mental 

flurries, he forgets that he is seeing Mr. B. through the girl's eyes 

and mind; but, unlike Pamela, the reader doesn't fall in love. When 

p. 43; all quotations from letters will be from this edition). The preface states 

he "had intended, at first, to have carry'd the Piece no farther than the Two former 

Volumes; as may be gather'd from the Conclusion of the First Five Editions." 

Where necessary to distinguish between the two Pamelas, Richardson's sequel will 

be referred to as Pamela II. 

All quotations from Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded will be from the Everyman's 

Library 1914 edition. T. C. Duncan Eaves and Ben D. Kimpel in "Richardson's 

Revisions of Pamela," Studies in Bibliography, 20 (1967), 62-87, state "that there 

is no more reason to regard it [Shakespeare Head Press edition of 1929] as standard 

than to regard the posthumous duodecimo edition, which the Norton and 

Everyman texts resemble, or indeed, any of the other editions" (p. 62). Quotations 

in this paper have been checked with a copy of the first edition in the Huntington 

Library to ascertain if there are any significant deviations in the Everyman edition. 

9 Chapter 1. By grouping male characters in categories, Golden gives neither a 

complete character analysis of any one hero nor a detailed examination of his 

various functions in his respective novel. 

The only contemporary I have found who feared Mr. B.'s charms is Richard 

Hurd who wrote to Cox Macro, 7 Nov. 1742, "Mr. B.'s character is a little too 

engaging to make a Debauchee sufficiently distasteful to the youth of his quality & 

fortune" as quoted in Alan McKillop, Early Masters of English Fiction (Lawrence, 

Kansas, 1956), p. 63. Clara Reeve is the only critic I have found who rated 

Pamela as Richardson's masterpiece, Progress of Romance (Dublin, 1785), p. 135.

PAMELA 437 

the marriage proposal turns Pamela's view from fearful to adoring, 

his intense empathy is broken. Convinced of Mr. B.'s wickedness, 

outraged by a seeming switch from black dye to whitewash, the 

reader doubts the "miraculous conversion" and deplores Richardson's 

ineptitude. He doesn't stop to consider that the adolescent 

narrator's reactions and interpretations may well have been exaggerated, 

that if Mr. B. is not so white as she now paints him, 

neither in all likelihood was he before so black. But relieved of 

suspense, the average reader wonders why Richardson prolongs the 

story after the wedding, so obviously the "proper" conventional 

ending, and often skims the last part, thus missing most of its 

purpose and meaning and consequently misinterpreting much of 

the first part. 

How Richardson came to write Pamela, how he chose the plot 

and epistolary form, so ready-to-hand, is well known. Too much, 

however, has been deduced from the fact that the memory of a 

true life story recurred to Richardson in the midst of writing 

Familiar Letters, the mistaken assumption being that since the 

stimulus to write Pamela was fortuitous, the way the novel was 

developed and written must also be accidental. A story-teller from 

his youth, Richardson held this particular story long in his mind and 

"had proposed to different Persons (who thought the Subject too 

low for them) that of Pamela, and it was owing to an Accident 

(The writing of the little Piece of Familiar Letters) that I entered 

upon it myself. And its strange success is still my Surprize. "10 

Note that it is the stimulus and encouragement to his undertaking 

that Richardson calls accidental. In an earlier letter he summarizes 

the true life story and makes clear that when he "gave way to enlargement," 

he knew what he was doing and hoped to "introduce a 

new species of writing." " As to Richardson's surprise at his 

novel's success-who could have foreseen such a "happening"? 

Neither the subject matter, the plot, nor the epistolary method 

were new; 12 obviously, it was the author's treatment of these three 

that made all the difference. What has hitherto been insufficiently 

discussed are the artistic problems posed by this specific plot and 

epistolary form-problems which by their nature could not escape 

10 Lefter to Aaron Hill, dated 26 Jan. 1746-47, Carroll, p. 79. 

11 To Aaron Hill, written sometime between 15 January 1741 and February, 

1741, Carroll, pp. 39-42. 

12 See Day, Told in Letters, Chap. 9.; see also Ira Konigsberg, "The Dramatic 

Background of Richardson's Plots and Characters," PMLA, 83 (1968), 42-46.


this particular author's awareness. Richardson, an avowed moralist 

and realist, confronts a real life plot dealing with a battle of the 

sexes which ends happily and he well knows that the only morally 

and socially acceptable conclusion of a happy love story is marriage. 

But marriage between a squire and his servant girl is a mesalliance, 

a shocking violation of accepted class distinctions and social conventions-a 

violation which Richardson the man 13 does not generally 

approve (any more than do most of his contemporaries, such 

as Dr. Johnson) but which Richardson the author must not only 

justify as an exception but also make realistic and credible. Worse 

yet, the marriage is between a rake and an innocent maid, seemingly 

an illustration of the dangerous saying, "a reformed rake 

makes the best husband," the very kind of union and pernicious 

proverb against which Richardson the man constantly preached,'4 

but which now as an author he must justify morally as a valid 

exception and again make socially and psychologically sound. 

The nature of the personal and larger conflicts inherent in the plot 

presents in varying degrees both moral and social dilemmas to the 

main characters and a double purpose-moral and social-to the 

author and his novel. Furthermore, the two dilemmas and dual 

purposes are inseparable, the importance of which fact some critics 

have not sufficiently realized.'5 As a moralist, Richardson must 

show that mutual love in the marriage between his reclaimed rake 

and virtuous servant makes their union come near to the Protestant 

ideal of matrimony (now accepted in theory, if not in practice)."6 

13 Richardson in A Collection of the Moral and Instructive Sentiments, Maxims 

. contained in Pamela, Clarissa, and Sir Charles Grandison (London, 1755), 

p. 51, quotes from Pamela, vol. 4, under the general heading, "Unequal Marriages," 

the following concluding maxim: "that those marriages are generally the happiest, 

in which an equality of birth and degree are attended to." 

14Letter to Lady Bradshaigh, 26 Oct. 1748, Carroll, pp. 94-95, 170-172; preface 

to Clarissa; A Collection of Maxims, pp. 44-45, under heading of Libertines and 

Rakes. 

15 William M. Sale, "From Pamela to Clarissa," The Age of Johnson; Essays 

presented to C. B. Tinker (New Haven, 1949), and Donovan, "The Problem of 

Pamela," 377-395, emphasize the social dilemma; B. L. Reid, "Justice to Pamela," 

Hudson Review, 9 (1956-57), 516-533; John Chalker, "'Virtue Rewarded': The 

Sexual Theme in Richardson's 'Pamela,' Literary Half-Yearly, 2 (1961), 58-64; 

and Roger Sharrock, "Richardson's Pamela: The Gospel and the Novel," Durham 

University Journal, n.s. 5, 58 (1966), 67-74, emphasize the moral dilemma. 

16 Protestant clergy, fighting in the sixteenth century to substitute matrimony for 

celibacy as the highest ideal, glorified it as the surest way to salvation and preached 

that matrimonial love is the highest and holiest form of earthly love which can 

best lead the soul to the eternal love of God. Success in getting their ideals of marriage 

included in the Book of Common Prayer, where love is stressed as the marital 

duty comprising all other duties, hastened general acceptance of the supremacy of

PAMELA 439 

As a realist, Richardson will seek to demonstrate that this particular 

marriage is a justifiable exception to the practical matrimonial 

criteria set by society for approved matches. The story of Pamela 

(just as McKillop has pointed out of Clarissa) thus takes on a 

wider significance, for it deals with "a conflict between a rigid 

general principle and an individual case" and is an "analytical 

study of behavior under the pressure of a social code." 17 Since it 

also deals with the pressures of differing personal codes, the conflict 

also expresses itself (just as Watt observes of Clarissa) "as a struggle 

between personalities and even between different parts of the same 

personality." 18 For a moralist and realist, the story that calls for a 

happy ending may well be the one more difficult to present. 

While Richardson's narrative method made easier Pamela's 

complex characterization, it made much more difficult the presentation 

of Mr. B.'s. The plot calls for a villain-hero who, to be 

plausible, must exhibit an involved motivation naturally produced 

by conflicting traits and impulses. The form requires the hero to be 

viewed through the eyes of Pamela, the character least able to see 

him objectively. Plot and form make sympathy for the heroine a 

paramount requisite; therefore, not only must the novel present 

the villain-hero indirectly, it must highlight in the first half his bad 

qualities, in the second half his better, but at the same time in each 

half give enough mixed qualities, enough shading, so that the 

"villain" is gradually submerged in the hero. Richardson's task 

here is to achieve the reverse of what Dr. Johnson declares he has 

done so admirably with Lovelace,.9 a task made more difficult 

in Pamela by his use of a heroine-narrator. 

Evidence from the author's own comments in prefaces and letters, 

as well as the more important evidence inherent in the novel, shows 

that Richardson was aware of these artistic problems and perceived 

the Protestant ideal of marriage. Puritan divines undertook to confine love within 

the institution of marriage, making it public and legal, but otherwise adopting and 

adapting most of the rules of courtly love. They stressed personal choice since the 

awakening of each soul to love was compared to their faith's belief in the awakening 

of the individual soul to the presence of Divine Grace. See Gwendolyn B. 

Needham, "New Light on 'Leading Apes in Hell,' Journal of American Folklore, 

75 (April-June, 1962), 106-119; William Haller's Rise of Puritanism, 1570-1643 

(New York, 1938); William Haller and Malleville Haller, "The Puritan Art of 

Love," Huntington Library Quarterly, 5, no. 2 (1942), 235, 272; and Ian Watt, 

The Rise of the Novel (Berkeley, 1957), chap. 5. 

7 Alan D. McKillop, Samuel Richardson (Chapel Hill, 1936), pp. 127-134. 

18 The Rise of the Novel, p. 438. 

19 "Rowe," Lives of the Poets, World Classics ed. (Oxford, 1964), 1, 391.


that the reality of his story would depend as much on the villainhero's 

sound psychological motivation as on the heroine's. Both the 

title-page and preface of the first edition reflect the combined 

interests of the moralist, the realist, and the artist. The preface lists 

as its chief specific aims: "to teach the Man of Fortune how to use 

it; the Man of Passion how to subdue it; and the Man of Intrigue, 

how, gracefully, and with Honour to himself, to reclaim" and "to 

give practical Examples, worthy to be followed in the most critical 

and affecting Cases, by the modest Virgin, the chaste Bride, and the 

obliging Wife." Note that although the heroine-narrator gets her 

name in title lights, the villain-hero receives in the preface equal 

importance and space plus precedence in the listing. Richardson 

objects on the basis of realism, art, and morality to the idea of 

"instant conversion," declares he could not bear that the world 

should think marriage makes amends for previous villainies,20 and 

expresses his belief that his characterization had made credible Mr. 

B.'s altered behavior.21 

Richardson's correspondence gives abundant evidence of artistic 

pride in the realism of his "new species," of his "new manner," and 

of the verisimilitude gained by his "minute particulars and small 

details," 22 pride in his powers of vivid characterization-the realistic 

depiction of a wide range of characters, especially the good or bad 

of both sexes, and pride in their originality. He writes that "Pamela 

was entirely the Creature of my Fancy," but that the character of a 

particular gentleman of his acquaintance had influenced his concept 

of both Mr. B. and Lovelace and that he had drawn the man's 

best qualities in Mr. B. and the worst in Lovelace, "made still worse 

by mingling the worst of two other characters, that were as well 

known to me, of that Gentleman's acquaintance." 23 Richardson 

obviously had no need to rely on fantasy or on old-fashioned plays 

and romances for knowledge of male wickedness. The notorious 

2OPrefatical Hints to Clarissa, in Augustan Reprint Society Publication no. 103 

(Los Angeles, 1964), p. 2. 

21 "Postscript" in Clarissa, 8 vols. (London, 1792), 8, 366. 

22 Specific evidence in letters will be found in Carroll: to Aaron Hill, between 

15 Jan. and 9 Feb., 1741, p. 41; to James Leake, August, 1741, pp. 42-45; to 

George Cheyne, 31 August 1741, pp. 47-48; to Johannes Stinstra, 20 March 1754, 

p. 297; to Sarah Chapone, 11 Jan. 1751, pp. 172-73, and 25 March 1751, pp. 180- 

181. Also see Prefatical Hints, p. 13; "Postscript," 8, 385. 

23 The Duke of Wharton has been conjecturally identified as the gentleman to 

whom Richardson refers in his letter to Aaron Hill, 26 Jan. 1746-47, Carroll, p. 79; 

McKillop, Samuel Richardson, pp. 133-134.

PAMELA 441 

escapades of contemporary rakes provided abundant real-life 

examples, well publicized both in journalistic writings and in drawings 

such as Hogarth's.24 

Significantly, Richardson's jealous guarding of the integrity of 

the created characters of Mr. B. and of Pamela indicates full awareness 

that the achievement of his dual purpose and the probability of 

his story's action depended on the reality of both characterizations. 

Outraged by the prospect of a spurious sequel, he continues his 

story himself "rather than my Plan should be (basely) Ravished out 

of my Hands, and, probably my Characters depreciated and debased, 

by those who knew nothing of the Story, nor the Delicacy 

required in the Continuation of the Piece." 25 Confident that he 

knows more about his characters and the reading public than does 

any correspondent, the novelist-printer defends all questioned 

details in Pamela, even the two "Deep Scenes" as "necessary to my 

Story or to my Characters." To a suggestion that his "Tender 

Scenes should be suppos'd rather than described," he again pleads 

his "Design" and "the Sake of my Story and Characters." 26 Clearly, 

much as the moralist lauds the utile and proclaims it is his true end, 

the artist is quite aware that for "light and airy minds" the dulce 

must be stressed and its demands met; for together with the realist, 

he knows that the effectiveness of the first depends on the successful 

achieving of the second and that the integrity of his whole work 

depends on the artistic presentation of both. 

Just as external evidence demonstrates that Richardson was 

aware of what he had done, the far more significant evidence found 

within the novel demonstrates that its creator knew what he was 

doing. Close study of Pamela reveals Richardson's methods of 

solving his recognized artistic problems and his realization that since 

his equally important purposes were inextricably interdependent, 

their themes therefore should naturally interact and develop simultaneously 

according to the necessities of his story and characters. 

A great difficulty to achieving desired realism and integration was 

his restricting narration almost solely to one writer (a limitation he 

avoided in later novels by using multiple correspondents). How- 

24 Hogarth's "A Harlot's Progress" appeared in 1732, "A Rake's Progress" in 

1735; see Ronald Paulson, comp., Hogarth's Graphic Works (New Haven, 1965), 

1: 52-53, 143-149, 160-170. 

25 Letter to Leake, August, 1741, Carroll, pp. 42-45. 

26 Letter to Cheyne, 31 August 1741, Carroll, pp. 46-50.


ever, with one exception-the exigencies of plot early necessitate 

an editorial interruption (pp. 77-84) to present information which 

the heroine-narrator cannot then know-Richardson manages to 

work cleverly within this restraint. Though awkwardly introduced, 

knowledge of Mr. B.'s elaborate scheme to abduct Pamela, while 

guarding his own reputation, intensifies for the reader the dramatic 

irony inherent in Pamela's accounts "written to the moment," 

increases sympathy for the "helpless, hopeless Pamela," and maintains 

suspense over the eventual outcome.27 The early change 

in form from letters to journal, so naturally effected by plot,28 

allowed the author more freedom and scope. Plot also now makes 

plausible correspondence between his two principals,29 a condition 

most important for a vivid characterization of his villain-hero and 

for future action. This condition Richardson promptly utilizes, for 

in Mr. B.'s first letter his voluntary promise not to approach Pamela 

without her leave (although now his prisoner) accounts for both 

their geographical separation and its duration; while abduction 

proves his determination not to be thwarted in desire, his strategic 

promise shows that desire to be seduction, not rape. 

In truth, Richardson shows artistic ingenuity in changing an 

initial limitation into an advantage. He makes the form itself play 

a dynamic motivating force in plot development and repeatedly 

compels the reader's attention to this fact. From the opening letter 

to the journal's close, Pamela's writing and Mr. B.'s reading are 

both dramatized. Her confidential letters and later secret scheming 

to hide both the writing and the smuggling out of her journal and his 

scheming to read her writings occasion minor skirmishes and major 

confrontations, involve other people, complicate plot, and develop 

characterization of each. Only after the kidnapping does Pamela 

initiate offensive action; then she resorts to deception, tricks, even 

lies to effect escape. Her counter-plotting intensifies Mr. B.'s 

27 The "editor" also presents Mr. B.'s first two letters of intrigue, thereby using 

the villain-hero's own words with which to reveal him as a past master of the "base 

arts of designing men." Mr. B.'s false allegation of Pamela's intriguing with a 

young cleric obviously prepares for the later dramatic irony of the lying intriguer 

being "hoist with his own petard." 

28 The beginning thirty-one letters consist of 77 pages out of a total of 463, about 

one-sixth of the novel; the letter numbered 32 actually becomes the start of her 

journal. 

29 In addition to his "written proposals" and his "lyric" at the end, Mr. B. writes 

16 letters, 7 of which are to Pamela; of the other 9, 6 are his intriguing letters of 

deliberate deception, 3 are short letters of instruction.

PAMELA 443 

plotting, and thereafter the novel's action, simultaneously heightening 

interest and suspense, steadily accelerates until the climax. 

Most indicative of conscious artistry, the climax is directly motivated 

by Mr. B.'s reading of the journal and his writing two successive 

letters to Pamela. The effect of Pamela's writings on his mind and 

heart throughout the story cannot be overestimated. Pamela does 

not fully realize this until after the climax, but it is there for the 

reader to see. Her letters and journal reveal her initial attraction, 

her ambivalence, and her growing love in spite of fear and moral 

condemnation of his actions; we know that Mr. B., too, must see 

the love, and we should be able to surmise its effect on him. Confirmation 

comes later when he confesses her letters were not to her 

disadvantage, "for they gave me a very high opinion of your wit 

and innocence: and if I had not loved you, do you think I would 

have troubled myself about your letters?" (p. 206) and he repeatedly 

declares her journal "riveted" his affection. 

Still remaining is the problem of presenting "justly" the characterization 

of Mr. B. in the novel's early part, for purpose and 

plot demand that Pamela agonize about what Mr. B. will do and the 

reader be kept in suspense. Mindful of realism and narrative form, 

Richardson reveals about Mr. B. only what Pamela can know and 

deduce; he communicates further knowledge (except for the editorial 

interruption) only as she herself gains it. Close study with 

focus on Mr. B.'s characterization, however, reveals that throughout 

the first part of Pamela Richardson has provided a multiplicity of 

details, hints, and clues to character traits, so that readers may 

gradually understand Mr. B.'s nature, perceive the conflict and 

change of his feelings, and accept his final decision to marry as both 

probable and natural. Richardson intentionally planted the clues 

and deliberately left us to surmise. The fifteen-year-old innocent 

does not know Mr. B. or his nature very well, and from the first 

her judgment is conditioned by the awful dread her parents have 

immediately aroused, her defensive or delaying action is guided by 

their advice or that of Mrs. Jervis. But she faithfully reports 

opinions of his family, neighbors, and servants; and from this 

record readers, if objective, can interpret more truly the nature and 

feelings of Mr. B. but must await the positive confirmation given 

later by the man himself. After the kidnapping, we find more direct 

evidence of Mr. B.'s inner conflict in his letters to Pamela, but as to


its resolution Richardson still keeps both her and us in suspense 

until the climax. After the happy pair are united, Richardson supports 

"distinctly" all the previous hints and clues by having Mr. 

B., in the confidence of mutual love, explain fully the course of his 

previous feelings, thoughts, and motives. Then we realize that 

nothing is more characteristic of Mr. B. than the lordly way in which 

he complacently condescends to analyze himself for his adoring 

Pamela,30 to explain what he expects in a wife, why he believes she 

alone could suit him, and how he will change the world's censure 

into approval. A generally corroborative but sharper analysis of 

his character is also given later by his sister, Lady Davers (pp. 

419-422). 

When examining how Richardson characterized his villain-hero, 

the reader is first surprised by the wealth of specific detail (detail 

gathered throughout the novel, from Mr. B.'s "generosity" on the 

first page to his poetry-writing on the last) and then impressed with 

the fineness, skill, and painstaking care with which each piece is 

fitted into a mosaic-a mosaic which presents a striking full-length 

portrait: Mr. B. is a self-assured young gentleman of twenty-five, 

"handsome in person," "genteel in address"-proud possessor of 

good birth, land, power, and wealth-a member of Parliament and 

a magistrate of justice in Bedfordshire and Lincolnshire. The young 

squire's capable management of estates and fortune has won the 

respect of his steward and neighbors; his kindness and generosity the 

esteem of servants, family, and friends. He is proud of his reputation 

and watchful of appearance. He is perhaps better educated than 

most country squires, having attended Oxford, traveled in Europe, 

and sojourned in France. A master of the sword, a fearless hunter 

and rider, he is supremely confident of his physical and mental 

powers-distinctly a man of action. He accepts unquestioningly 

the conventions of his class and regards himself as a man of honor. 

An inherently proud disposition, however, has been intensified by 

the gifts of Fortune, and his nature is passionate in sex, temper, and 

will. In a life of "activity and gaiety" he takes as a matter of 

course the satisfaction of every desire. As a boy, Mr. B. was taught 

religious principles and right conduct, but "his poor dear mother 

spoiled him at first. Nobody must speak to, or contradict him, as I 

have heard, when he was a child; and so he has not been used to be 

30 A remarkable foreshadowing of George Meredith's chapters 5 and 6, "The 

Courtship" and 'The Betrothed" in The Egoist.

PAMELA 445 

controlled, and cannot bear the least thing to cross his violent will" 

(p. 220)." Here Richardson intuitively applies modern psychology 

in accounting for the man by the child. 

Like Tom Jones, youthful Mr. B. is full of "animal spirits"; but 

he lacks Tom's modesty and instinctive goodness of heart. Equally 

impetuous but more sophisticated, Mr. B. emerges from amorous 

skirmishes around the countryside, unscathed and unrepentant. 

That he can feel remorse, however, Richardson shows by recounting 

the youth's more serious secret affair with Miss Sally Godfrey, 

the offense of which is palliated by her mother's initial effort to 

entrap him. When poor Sally refuses to continue their illicit love, 

Mr. B. acts "honorably" according to class code: he gives her a 

large sum when she leaves the country, assumes responsibility for 

their illegitimate daughter, and settles on the child a fortune ample 

for a gentlewoman. For a time he is truly affected by Miss Godfrey's 

belated virtue and the whole "melancholy case" but soon, again "full 

of spirits and inconsideration," he embarks on gay continental 

travel. He returns adept in intrigue; though "not a very abandoned 

profligate," he enjoys a career in gallantry while discreetly maintaining 

a good reputation. His easy conquests among all ranks have 

made him cynical of woman's virtue and averse to matrimony; he 

declines several excellent matches. A firm believer in male superiority 

and the double standard of sexual morality, Mr. B., like 

many rakes, has become "nice and delicate in his notions." Uncompromising, 

he wants absolute love and happiness, "for here is 

my misfortune: I could not have been contented to have been 

but moderately happy in a wife" (p. 414). 

Heredity, fate, and experience have thus combined to produce 

a most self-satisfied young man with a strong sense of his own 

dignity. Richardson emphasizes pride of self as Mr. B.'s dominant 

and pervasive trait. Lesser prides-family, position, wealth, personal 

attributes and abilities-all tend to feed his over-developed 

ego. Insensitive in many things, he is hypersensitive in his ego. 

Anything that touches it, touches the quick, vital essence of his being 

and immediately evokes protective or vindictive action. Accustomed 

to dominate, he expects to be bowed to on his own terms, con- 

31 Jane Austen thought well enough of Richardson's psychological motivation to 

borrow from it in explaining Darcy's haughty pride (Pride and Prejudice, chap. 

43). See Henrietta Ten Harmsel in "The Villain-Hero in Pamela and Pride and 

Prejudice," College English, 23 (1961), 104-108, for other similarities.


vinced they are reasonable. If one first yields to him in a "nice 

particular," then he can be magnificently generous; but he must 

have this initial sop. Capable of finer sensibilities, he is most moved 

"to wipe his eyes" when someone expresses generous feeling for him. 

Actually, he expects voluntary love as his due and is "very jealous 

of what I love." He can admit his own faults-"Yet I am not 

perfect myself: no, I am greatly imperfect"-but expects others to 

overlook them. If anyone offends him-"Lord have mercy upon 

you!" his sister cries, for "he will not easily forgive" and is "slow 

to be reconciled." Pride of self gives to Mr. B., otherwise so 

spirited and active, a stately manner, at times "almost majestical," 

and limits his sense of humor. Capable of wit and playful teasing, 

he appreciates humor in others but dislikes being its target. 

To appreciate Richardson's skill in characterizing Mr. B., we 

need to realize what he is not as well as understand what he is. 

Most significant is our gradual discovery that he is not the typical 

dissolute rake for which readers usually take him. He is no spendthrift, 

but a prudent man of affairs; he is not a selfish and coldhearted 

but a kind and benevolent master (Pamela frequently 

wonders why he is hard and cruel only to her); he drinks wine, 

plays cards, loves gaiety, but is no drunkard, no gambler, no rioter. 

His single rakish tendency, in fact, is his attitude toward matrimony 

and women-the avoidance of the first and the pursuit of the latter. 

Only with this discovery do we realize that Richardson, while 

maintaining our sympathetic fear for Pamela and our impression of 

Mr. B.'s villainy, has been quietly creating the character of Mr. B. 

not as an "abandoned profligate" but as a man capable of correcting 

and disciplining himself given sufficiently strong motivation. And 

only with this realization do we perceive the conscious care with 

which Richardson has created his villain-hero's characterization 

and has rendered it according to demands of plot, form, and the 

achievement of his double purpose. By limiting his egoist-rake's 

profligacy to pursuit of women, Richardson lessens Mr. B.'s villainy 

and removes obstacles to his own task of making natural and 

probable Mr. B.'s being "reclaimed" by his love for and marriage 

to a woman who adores him. 

Mr. B.'s self-complacency might easily make him a prig, but 

he is saved from that classification, so appropriate to Sir Charles 

Grandison, by the violence of his emotions, the turbulence of his 

temper. He and Lovelace possess many qualities in common, but

PAMELA 447 

in Lovelace they are intensified and heightened as befits the herovillain 

of a great tragedy. Mr. B.'s spiritual kinship with Meredith's 

Sir Willoughby Patterne is plainly manifest; yet his ego, though 

enlarged, still resembles more the elemental male ego than Sir 

Willoughby's quintessence of egoism. Whereas there is no hope 

for Sir Willoughby, experience might possibly discipline and curb, 

if not diminish, Mr B.'s ego. Richardson makes Pamela, considered 

from the standpoint of his villain-hero, the story of just such a 

disciplining experience. 

With focus now on Mr. B.'s characterization as well as Pamela's, 

a fresh analysis of the plot development reveals two salient facts, 

the importance of which has not hitherto been sufficiently recognized: 

first, although Richardson's form keeps his focus on Pamela, 

the narrator and central figure, he makes Mr. B. the protagonist, 

the initiator of most of the action; second, Richardson's concern 

with the "divided mind" and its characteristic situation of prolonged 

tension and indecision 32 depends in Pamela far more on the divided 

mind of the hero than that of the heroine. It is Mr. B.'s contradictory 

behavior, speeches, and actions, his changing moods, 

ambivalent feelings, and vacillations of purpose which call forth 

Pamela's varying responses and reflections, and ultimately force 

her to dare far more than "to write and weep and pray" (p. 84) 

in defense of her "honesty." Hence it is Mr. B.'s inner conflict and 

its eventual resolution which Richardson uses to shape the structural 

pattern of his story and to determine its climax and conclusion. 

Pamela, despite ambivalence, temptations, doubt, despair, never 

wavers in her heart-and-soul belief in the righteousness of defending 

her virtue, and therein lies her strength; her suspense is due to Mr. 

B.'s indecision, not to her own. Only when his farewell letter 

compels the conscious recognition of her love does she experience 

brief actual inner conflict, the resolution of which Richardson also 

uses to effect the story's climax. 

This climax-mutual-love marriage-comes midway in the 

plot's simple dramatic structure, apparently dividing the novel into 

almost equal parts, a division deplored by many as fatal to unity 

and condemned by more as proof of Richardson's lack of planning, 

an unnecessary prolongation of an already completed story. 

Readers and critics generally have failed to perceive that the 

32Apparently Brian W. Downs, Richardson (London, 1928), pp. 128-129, was 

among the first to stress this concern with which most later critics have agreed.


"divisive climax" simultaneously sets up a natural "before and after" 

structural pattern-before mutual love develops and after; before 

marriage and after. This pattern Richardson most variously and 

ingeniously uses to mark the "uncommon gradations" in the course 

of both inner and outer conflicts, to emphasize both the personal 

and private importance and the social and public significance of the 

marriage of mutual love, and to make the two parts as the plot's 

rising action and falling action form one whole design.33 They have 

consequently not perceived how well the "before and after" pattern 

helps solve Richardson's artistic problems, nor how it is exceptionally 

well adapted to fit the needs of his "story and characters" 

(especially the characterization of a villain-hero) and of his moral 

and social purpose. 

In a surprising number of ways Richardson employs this pattern 

and induces the reader further to perceive it himself. His chief 

structural device is varied use of parallel scenes and incidents; 

others are the building up to scenes of high drama, keeping the 

reader alert both to the impending confrontation and to its consequences, 

the deliberate choice of the same locale for two separate 

occurrences, the repetition of words, phrases, gestures, acts, or the 

omission of the expected repetition, and of course, the prior writing 

of the heroine and later reading of the hero. By either direct statement 

or the journal's dating, Richardson makes clear the novel's 

time-scheme and keeps the reader informed of the passage of time 

(sometimes to the very hour), which he uses not only to indicate 

rate of progress or significant intervals of inaction but also to keep 

the reader conscious of the before-and-after aspect of even fine 

gradations in the mental state or emotional temperature of his two 

principals. 

With the climax of their marriage, which Richardson depicts as 

33 The climactic point-Pamela's voluntary return upon receiving Mr. B.'s two 

successive letters-occurs on p. 232 of the 463-page edition. Since the actual wedding 

occurs ten days later, p. 322, the entire climax may be said to cover 90 pages, 

thereby allotting 231 pages to rising action and 141 pages to falling action, but the 

before-and-after pattern of mutual-love confidences would begin on p. 232. Critics 

finding fault with the novel's "breaking into two" fail to observe the length of the 

climax or to see that the last part forms the novel's resolution; they do not recall 

that a plot's rising action is usually more tense and exciting than the resolution. The 

"let-down" in suspense and interest in this last part is not due to faulty structure but 

to the lesser interest inherent in the material-winning approval of a marriage is 

less exciting than the sexual struggle, a brother-sister quarrel lacks the romantic 

interest of a lovers' quarrel, an obedient, worshiping wife is less captivating than a 

fighting, spirited maid, and a "corrected" complacent husband is less attractive 

than a villain-hero, divided in mind and heart.

PAMELA 449 

morally right for these two individuals personally, the main action 

changes from the sexual struggle between Mr. B. and Pamela into a 

social conflict between the wedded pair and the world's opinion, 

especially as represented by Lady Davers. Wishing to demonstrate 

why this particular union is socially justifiable and acceptable, 

Richardson dramatizes the conflict in the quarrels of sister and 

brother over marriage to his servant. Mr. B., still the protagonist, 

now plays a more sympathetic role, for he successfully combats the 

very same attitudes and arguments of Lady Davers that he has 

previously conquered in himself. His recently gained discipline 

and realization of "true values" help him convince his sister that 

Pamela is the right wife for him and to effect a reconciliation. 

Lady Davers' public acceptance of Pamela typifies the acceptance 

of friends and neighbors and thus resolves the conflict between this 

"individual case" and general social rules and principles. In effect, 

Richardson achieves his moral and social purposes and his happy 

ending by carefully presenting the particular marriage of love between 

Mr. B. and Pamela as a justifiable exception to the wisdom 

of the general social rule. 

At first the main conflict appears to be a simple battle and siege 

between lust and chastity, but differences in moral and social codes, 

in class, and in economic position immediately surround the sexual 

struggle with conflicting values. Mr. B.'s honour ("[I can] bear 

anything in you but doubts of my honour," [p. 239] is pitted against 

Pamela's honesty ("I will die a thousand deaths rather than be 

dishonest any way," [p. 4]. "I am poor and lowly and am not entitled 

to call it honour." [p. 136].34 Mr. B.'s pride of "condition" 

and class are matched against Pamela's equally strong pride in her 

honesty and poverty (labeled "heroic poverty" in Richardson's book 

of maxims). Both are proud of their respective reputations and 

strive to maintain them. The master-servant relationship of command 

and obey, of duty to care for and to serve, is distorted by his 

34 It is interesting that Richardson has neither Pamela nor any of the characters 

use the word chastity to indicate Pamela's virginity. Note that a narrow meaning 

of the general words honesty, honor, virtue indicated female chastity, which popular 

usage soon reduced to physical chastity; in addition the words honesty and 

honor carried the same class distinctions for women as they did for men: lower 

and middle class men have honesty; upper class gentlemen possess honor. Virtue 

can indicate for both men and women moral goodness, a collection of virtues, but 

in common usage it indicated chastity as a symbol of all virtues only for women. 

Readers should be alert to the fact that Richardson uses all three words both in 

their single and in their collective sense.


lust and her defensive chastity from master and servant to master 

versus servant. All these differences Richardson skillfully uses first 

as a foe to the development of real love and then as obstacles to 

marriage. (Note that Richardson plausibly accounts for Pamela's 

training "above her station," thus removing an obstacle to their 

eventual union difficult to surmount, and shows that Pamela's education 

"befitting a gentlewoman" enhances her charms for Mr. B. 

and assures him and his neighbors-and the reader-that on her 

elevation to the gentry she can instantly conduct herself becomingly.) 

Both Mr. B.'s code of honor as a gentleman and his code as a 

rake take for granted a double standard of sexual morality, but they 

differ in the manner of its application. As a gentleman, he does 

not dream of marrying beneath him; as a rake he is averse to marriage 

and considers woman his plaything or prey. Pamela's code 

of Christian morality cherishes her honesty as "her best jewel," 

possessing as it does social, economic, and above all, spiritual 

values. Preservation of chastity means avoidance of sin and earning 

spiritual salvation; it means self-respect and self-integrity, social 

reputation, a necessity for marriage, or for earning a decent livelihood. 

Its value is greater than life itself: "were my life in question, 

instead of my honesty, I would not wish to involve you [Mr. 

Williams]. But, 0 Sir! my soul is of equal importance with the soul 

of a princess, though my quality is inferior to that of the meanest 

slave!" (pp. 140-141). A brief affair to Mr. B. is a peccadillo; to 

Pamela, it is economic and social ruin and spiritual sin.35 The 

power of their respective codes so influences their thinking that each 

questions the other's values and doubts the other's sincerity of principles. 

Pamela no more dreams of possible marriage than does Mr. 

B.; in fact, her keen awareness of class distinctions and social custom 

only makes her more certain that her master intends "the worst fate 

possible for a poor girl." Although Pamela glories in "heroic 

poverty" and repeats constantly her virtue is dearer than life, the 

aristocratic Mr. B. can neither understand her values nor believe in 

the steadfastness of her resolves. 

From their conflicting values Richardson draws the novel's basic 

themes and thereby ensures their development in close integration 

35See Robert P. Utter and Gwendolyn B. Needham, Pamela's Daughters (New 

York, 1937), particularly chaps. 2, 8, and 9; Watt, The Rise of the Novel, chap. 5; 

Chalker, "'Virtue Rewarded"' 58-64; and Sharrock, "Richardson's Pamela," 67-74.

PAMELA 451 

with character and action. The themes show Richardson no radical 

reformer but a reflector of middle-class standards of current Christian 

morality and contemporary ethical thought. Overriding all 

other ideas is the belief that people should trust in God and his 

Providence to protect them and to reward, "in his own time," 

honesty and integrity. This sentiment unfortunately is shortened in 

the subtitle to "Virtue Rewarded" which, in conjunction with the 

heroine's name, has led too easily to interpretation of virtue only 

in its special narrow sense and to its association solely with Pamela. 

Subsidiary themes rely on Nature's Law as well as Divine Law and 

some echo Pope's Essay on Man: an individual's evaluation depends 

on his inner worth, not on rank or riches; virtue is humble, 

pride vain; the more riches a man has, the greater must be his benevolent 

actions for social good; marriages should be based on love. 

Each man, "a link in Nature's chain," should perform his allotted 

duty: 

Honour and shame from no Condition rise; 

Act well your part, there all the honour lies.36 

Unfortunately, as the novel demonstrates, what is honor and what is 

shame hold different meanings for the social classes in general and 

for Mr. B. and Pamela in particular, differences which generate 

error and conflict that demand change or compromise before reconciliation 

and tranquility can be assured. 

Richardson never lets the reader forget the clash of opposing 

values even while he steadily builds suspense in the sexual struggle. 

At the same time he makes clear the pair's mutual physical attraction 

and shows that in spite of the lust of one and the fear of the 

other, in spite of all social and personal hindrances, their feeling is 

36 See Pamela's verses (pp. 76-77) and her six-couplet quotation from a poet on 

p. 235 which contains "Nor let the rich the lowest slave disdain/He's equally a link 

of Nature's chain." These lines are quoted in 0. A. Lovejoy's The Great Chain of 

Being (Cambridge, Mass., 1961), p. 207, with a footnote (p. 358) stating, 

"Whether Richardson composed or quoted the lines is not clear." I also have been 

unable to ascertain the author. 

Besides the couplet quoted, other echoes from Pope's Epistle IV are from the 

following lines: 

Order is Heaven's first law; and this confest 

Some are, and must be Greater than the rest, 

More rich, more wise, but who infers from hence, 

That such are happier, shocks all common sense. 

Virtue is the only Happiness here below. 

An honest Man's the noblest work of God.


developing into love, a gradual change admirably drawn by the 

nicest and most minute touches. He finely depicts the fluctuating 

ambivalence each suffers and finds bewildering; at one time or 

another each declares "perfect hate," while Love unawares has 

captured the heart. As he charts the course of war between Mr. B.'s 

pride and love, Richardson skillfully intertwines the fluctuations of 

the inner and outer struggles, makes their interaction affect the 

progress of each, and emphasizes the important disciplining of ego 

and desire that his villain-hero reluctantly and gradually learns, a 

correcting discipline which ultimately wins a marriage of love and 

society's approval. 

To demonstrate the validity of these conclusions, let us review 

the significant events of the story to see how Richardson's psychological 

insight and conscious realism make convincing what happens 

to a Mr. B. when he encounters a Pamela. More detailed analysis 

will be given the indirect characterization of Mr. B's inner conflict 

in the novel's first half which close reading reveals. Once readers 

understand the villain-hero's inner struggle, the direct evidence in 

the last half of his whole character and of its effect on other aspects 

of the story is plainly manifest. Both clarity and appreciation of 

Richardson's conscious craft demand that this evidence be discussed 

in the order in which he presents it.37 

Indirect evidence of Mr. B.'s inner conflict appears at the very 

beginning. Even when aware that Mr. B. "had an eye on [Pamela] 

during his mother's lifetime," few readers note the significant lapse 

of a year between Letter I and the summer-house incident of Letter 

XI ("my good lady has been now this twelvemonth dead," [p. 12]). 

Evidently restrained by a deathbed promise "to remember" Pamela, 

Mr. B. has delayed gratification of his desire, but his actions during 

the year of mourning plainly indicate he is disturbed by conflicting 

impulses: honor and filial duty oppose passion. Continued attraction 

to Pamela is shown by his interest in her activities and his 

37Richardson overwhelms the student with evidence; my first effort (made in 

1953) to present all details supporting only the untraditional interpretation of 

Mr. B.'s character proved too long for general journal publication. Limitations of 

space necessitate a minimum of quotation; numbered page references must suffice. 

I urge, however, the reading of all Mr. B.'s six letters to Pamela (pp. 90', 101-102, 

117-118, 146-147, 224-225, 227-228) in order to appreciate fully the changes of 

style, tone, attitude and feeling they reflect.

PAMELA 453 

arranging to see her letters. The gift of money, which so alarms 

her parents, and gifts of clothing may evidence respect for his 

mother's wishes as well as desire for Pamela. His early acquiescing 

that Pamela might join Lady Davers' household indicates possible 

obedience to his mother's request; his later refusal shows specious 

rationalizing to justify desire's victory over filial duty (p. 10). The 

best proof, however, of his struggle to conquer passion is the year 

of exemplary behavior, which lulls the fears of the watchful girl 

(pp. 7-8), but not of her parents: "Arm yourself, my dear child, 

for the worst, and resolve to lose your life sooner than your virtue" 

(p. 9). They bid her to confide in Mrs. Jervis and to take her 

counsel. 

The state of Mr. B,'s mind and heart determines the several stages 

in the sexual struggle between master and maid. Most significantly, 

the first stage is his year of imposed restraint with its accompanying 

inner conflict; the second stage of confrontation and indecision 

(about three months) begins with the summer-house overtures and 

ends with Pamela's abduction; the third is the forty-five day siege, 

and the last (about two weeks) covers the climax with resolution of 

conflicts, realization of mutual love, courtship, and the wedding, 

the latter all marked by Mr. B.'s disciplined restraint. 

Mr. B. is confounded in the summer-house by Pamela's extreme 

reaction to his "puny" freedoms of embraces and kisses; mentally 

armed for the worst, Pamela is "benumbed with terror," "would have 

given [her] life for a farthing," thinks "all his wickedness appeared 

plainly." On his bewildered wondering what harm had been done, 

she quickly retorts with a prepared reproof and rejection: "The 

greatest harm in the world: you have taught me to forget myself, 

and what belongs to me, and have lessened the distance that fortune 

has made between us, by demeaning yourself, to be so free to a poor 

servant. Yet, Sir, . . . I am honest, though poor: and if you was 

a prince I would not be otherwise" (p. 13). Pamela's shrewd accusation 

of Mr. B.'s demeaning himself wounds his own "pride of 

condition" and places him at such a disadvantage that in all future 

verbal battles Pamela repeats this telling point. 

Not dreaming of repulse, expecting the flattered maid to yield 

readily, Mr. B. now incredulously perceives that instead of enjoying 

a quiet affair, he is likely to have "his household in an uproar."' 

Apprehensive of what Pamela may write, he steals her letter and 

goes away for a fortnight's reflection. Pamela, obeying parental in-


junction, confides in Mrs. Jervis, who advises her to stay. Readers 

who impugn Pamela's motives for staying overlook the housekeeper's 

role of counselor to Pamela and intermediary between 

Mr. B. and Pamela. Well-meaning, she defends each and reports to 

each what the other says. Unwilling to believe any real harm in 

Mr. B. and thinking Pamela exaggerates, she hopes "the storm will 

blow over"; it is she who provides reasons and arguments more than 

once for Pamela's delay in leaving.38 Mr. B. next tries to prejudice 

Mrs. Jervis against Pamela by casting doubts on the "artful young 

baggage's" innocence and tries vainly to best Pamela in argument. 

Once he loses control, kisses her by force and puts his hand in her 

bosom, whereupon she escapes, locks a door, and faints.39 The 

"hardened villain" promptly calls Mrs. Jervis to revive Pamela, 

bids them be silent, and report on the morrow. 

Reminding Mrs. Jervis how little he has done "to occasion all this 

folly" by which his reputation might suffer, he declares his abhorrence 

of force, "but I was bewitched by her, I think, to be freer than 

became me," and decides to send Pamela "to the distresses and poverty 

she was taken from" (pp. 24-25). To his surprise, Pamela 

gratefully falls on her knees, blesses him, expresses her happiness to 

leave. Mr. B. soon discovers his threat is a tactical error, for the 

unanswerable plea, "Let me go home," becomes the chief weapon 

in Pamela's verbal arsenal, her first answer to all later propositions. 

Pamela's fears of future attempts are justified, but during the next 

two months (see p. 34) of his prevailing indecision, Mr. B.'s speech 

and actions in these and following scenes convey to the reader much 

more than to Pamela. He sees the wisdom of sending her away, 

yet still hopes the threat of distress may induce her to submit. 

Poor Mr. B. is experiencing mixed emotions and sensations, which 

he feels rather than consciously realizes. Pride and male ego have 

been wounded in ways new to his experience: his handsome virility 

proved not all-powerful, his reputation damaged by insufficient 

cause, his master's authority defied, his will crossed, his desire 

38 See pp. 15, 22, 27, 29, 31, 49, 55. When Mrs. Jervis shows Mr. B. the flowered 

waistcoat, it is he who says Pamela should stay until it is finished (p. 29). 

39 This and later scenes depicting Mr. B.'s progressively bolder "freedoms," 

Pamela's greater terror, and correspondingly more severe reactions well illustrate 

Richardson's conscious use of parallel scenes, same places, repetition of a gesture 

or its significant omission to convey his before-and-after pattern. He obviously 

makes the putting of a hand in her bosom mean for the adolescent Pamela the 

ultimate bold gesture inexorably leading to the final sexual act. Note the effects of 

this caress or its omission in scenes on pp. 21, 51, 71, 183-185, 232.

PAMELA 455 

thwarted. His description of himself as "bewitched" is significantly 

apt. Caught by the obvious lure of her body, he does not comprehend 

his gradual capture by the lure of her mind and spirit. In 

defending "honesty," Pamela justifies "forgetting her place" and 

boldly argues as an equal while using her "humbleness" to shame 

him. Her quick equivocations enchant as well as exasperate; the 

very names he calls her show his ambivalence. Her letters impress 

him with their content and her spirit. 

After Mr. B.'s initial outrage, Pamela's continued resistance only 

strengthens his determination to succeed. Her rejection inflames his 

physical desire and challenges the essence of male ego; he must 

make her fall in love with him-he seeks victorious seduction. Her 

successful challenging the vaunted superiority of the masculine mind 

makes him long for her complete subjugation. But such a challenge 

also intensifies his interest in her and helps change sensual desire 

into love. No wonder that young Mr. B. does not understand his 

mixed feelings; what is wonderful is Richardson's remarkable insight 

into the complex workings of the inner conflict. For while the 

struggle finally emerges as a clear case of Pride versus Love, Richardson 

shows that these forces are not always single and direct or 

constant in relationship; the several elements of each may alternately 

combine, divide, or themselves clash as they are affected by 

occurrences in his external conflict with Pamela. Most important, 

Richardson presents us with the paradox that while Love and Pride 

are in combat, these opposing powers can produce indecision or 

unite to force Mr. B. irresistibly onward in his pursuit. 

Clues to Mr. B.'s inner state we get from conversations between 

Mrs. Jervis and Pamela (pp. 30-36) and from the wonder that the 

whole household expresses at his unusual crossness (pp. 36-37). 

Several times in meeting Pamela, he so sharply bids her both go and 

stay, so roughly grabs her arm, so abruptly drops it that Pamela 

thinks him mad, "for he knew not what he would have." And once 

when he ends by making her stay, he just "sat down and looked at 

me, and, as I thought afterwards, as sillily as such a poor girl as I" 

(p. 45). Thus does Richardson use the small detail of a silly look, 

so different from a rake's bold stare, to give us a sure sign of a man 

in love. Pamela herself confides, "I begin to believe what Mrs. 

Jervis told me, that he likes me, and can't help it; and yet strives to 

conquer it, and so finds no way but to be cross to me." She wonders, 

"Is it not strange that love borders so much upon hate?" but remains


unaware of any ambivalence in her reaction: "I am vexed his crossness 

affects me so" (p. 41 ). 

Unable to conquer his passion or to determine on a course of 

action, Mr. B. devises various subterfuges inducing Pamela to beg 

to remain, the failure of which further exacerbates his temper. 

Pamela's instant repulses of even suggested "freedoms" infuriate, 

and her frequent question, "And why should you so demean yourself 

to take notice of me?" so enrages him that one day the goaded 

young man is overheard to swear, "By G-, I will have her." With 

such careful motivation and build-up of suspense, Richardson presents 

the famous closet scene (typically devoting three pages to 

before preparations, one to action, three to after effects [pp. 48- 

55]). By having Pamela report her master's hiding-place and 

perfidy at the opening of Letter XXV and then give a chronological 

account of the happenings, Richardson provides the reader with an 

ironic double vision: he can visualize Mr. B.'s eavesdropping and 

imagine his consequent feelings while hearing a frank analysis of 

his character, and simultaneously can visualize the titillating striptease 

of Pamela, see her alarmed, and can appreciate the dramatic 

and verbal irony of her cry, "Heaven protect us! But before I say 

my prayers I must look into this closet." Mr. B. comes out with a 

promise and a threat: "I'll do you no harm if you forbear this noise; 

but otherwise take what follows." On the women's "cursed yellings," 

he comes to the bed, takes Pamela in his arms, orders Mrs. 

Jervis upstairs to prevent inquiry; on her refusal, he wildly threatens 

her but begs Pamela, "Let me but expostulate a word or two with 

you." They continue "hideous squallings," until terrified Pamela 

finds "his hand in my bosom," and "when my fright let me know it, 

I was ready to die; I sighed, screamed, and fainted away." Mr. B. 

thereupon charges Mrs. Jervis to be secret, summons assistance, and 

retires. The next day the chagrined master declares the two rebels 

may leave together and condescendingly explains that their "cursed 

yellings" had made him not himself, that he had intended no harm 

and had done none except to himself, but that he parts friendly with 

them since he was conscious of demeaning himself by eavesdropping 

(pp. 53-54). 

Mrs. Jervis and Pamela plainly believe that Mr. B. had premeditated 

"the worst fate possible to poor maid." Certainly appearances 

support this conclusion, and thus critics have called Richardson 

inept and his villain-hero stupid for planning such an attempt in the 

presence of the virtuous housekeeper. But did Mr. B. plan it?

PAMELA 457 

Critics have not considered whether Richardson deliberately designed 

the scene so that it heightens suspense for both Pamela and 

the reader while leaving open a possibility that Mr. B. is not quite 

the unmitigated scoundrel that he appears to be, a possibility that 

later evidence will make more certain. 

Once we recognize Mr. B.'s inner conflict, perceive he desires 

seduction not rape, consider his interest in all she says and writes, 

remember his concern for his reputation and the previous episodes 

where he loses control, we can see that Richardson's characterization 

has made plausible a somewhat different interpretation. It is 

conceivable that Mr. B. spoke the truth when he acknowledged 

demeaning himself by hiding, that eavesdropping was all he intended. 

But when detected, the women's noise, distrust, and accusations 

so enraged him that he then endeavored to commit the 

worst until stopped by Pamela's fainting fit. Fainting is not usually 

a safeguard to bodily chastity unless the aggressor is so far in love 

that he is more concerned with the lady than his own gratification. 

His present attempt is obviously motivated as much, perhaps more, 

by ego as by sensual desire; more angry than lustful, he cannot bear 

the humiliation of detection and blame for the worst. More than 

once the exasperated squire has declared, "you may as well have 

real cause . . . as to make my name suffer for imaginary ones" 

(p. 21 ). This interpretation, while not palliating his offense, is consistent 

with Richardson's general picture of his impetuosity and 

undisciplined nature.40 A comparison of Mr. B.'s actions in this 

scene with his later carefully worked out abduction scheme and his 

obviously premeditated second attempt indicates even more plainly 

the impulsive, unplanned nature of the first attempt. 

Finding humiliation insupportable, Mr. B. determines to carry 

Pamela away to his Lincolnshire estate, but still desiring voluntary 

compliance, he stages a "great temptation scene" (pp. 69-75) in 

which he offers kind love and rewards rather than threats and forced 

embraces. Openly and frankly he avows his love and tries to remove 

the obstacle of the master-servant relationship: 

From this moment I will no more consider you as my servant; . . . 

You have too much good sense not to discover, that I, in spite of my 

40 After arriving at this interpretation solely on evidence from Volume I, I 

remembered Richardson's own confirmation of its plausibility in the sequel, 

Pamela, Part II, Everyman's edition (London, 1914), pp. 100-119. Evidently 

Richardson realized that the indirect presentation of Mr. B.'s character had led to 

some misunderstanding, for in Part II he has Mr. B.'s sister ask him why he had 

made such an attempt before the virtuous Mrs. Jervis. Mr. B.'s detailed exposition 

of his feelings and motives is carefully based on the essentials given in Pamela I.


heart, and all the pride of it, cannot but love you. . . . [I] have put 

on a behaviour to you, that was much against my heart, in hopes to 

frighten you from your reservedness. . . . I see more worthiness in 

you, than I ever saw in any lady in the world . . . I have seen more 

of your letters than you imagine; (this surprised me!) . . . and am 

quite overcome with your charming manner of writing; . . . all of 

which put together, makes me love you to extravagance. (pp. 70-71) 

The reality of Mr. B.'s present feelings, so plainly reflecting the 

warring elements of love and pride, cannot be doubted. He now 

regards Pamela as fit to be a mistress, yet still distrusts women. 

Love has grown until it compels acknowledgment of its power; 

pride forbids marriage. Richardson emphasizes this truth and the 

equally important fact (often overlooked by critics) that Pamela's 

rather self-righteous confidence in her own moral strength has been 

shaken. She feels her "poor heart giving way," but resolves "to trust 

all to Providence and nothing to myself," and once more begs to go 

home. Although damning the birth and fortune that only add to her 

suspicions and will not let him "descend all at once," Mr. B. offers 

fifty guineas for her father, then promises to marry her to Mr. 

Williams, his chaplain, who "shall make you a gentlewoman as long 

as you live!" On her firm refusal of all bribes-wealth, "married" 

respectability, genteel rank-Mr. B. calls her a fool and sets in motion 

his abduction plan. 

This apparently determinate act marking the end of the second 

stage of the sexual struggle does not end the fifteen-month-long conflict 

within Mr. B., which has only grown more fierce as its opposing 

forces have grown more equal in power. Richardson, having purposely 

heightened the impression of Mr. B.'s villainy and of Pamela's 

imminent doom, now promptly reveals through Mr. B.'s own letters 

that his inner conflict still rages, that seduction still remains his 

desired goal. He hopes that imprisonment will insure secrecy, protect 

his reputation, and make Pamela yield. During the forty-five 

day siege Pamela suffers various trials and the dreadful temptation 

of suicide and Mr. B. the torments of jealousy. 

Direct evidence from his letters now clearly reveals his inner 

state and records the results of siege tactics. Mr. B.'s first letter on 

the abduction night asks Pamela's forgiveness for the steps "his 

passion and her obstinacy" have caused him to take, swears that he 

"will use you honourably," and begs her not to allow her fears "to 

transport you to a behaviour that will be disreputable to us both" 

(p. 90). His second, four days later, persuades Pamela to copy a

PAMELA 459 

note allaying her parents' anxiety. With sublimely unconscious 

selfishness, he exclaims, "Oh, my dear girl! what trouble has not 

your obstinacy given me, and yourself too!" Though contingent 

upon her "proper" behavior, his promises show some consideration 

for her: "I can and will make you amends for the disturbance I 

have given you, . . . I will not approach you without your leave; 

if I find you easy, and not attempting to dispute or avoid your present 

lot, I will keep my word, although 'tis a difficulty upon me" 

(p. 101, italics mine). Note how effectively Richardson conveys 

through the style of all Mr. B.'s letters the unconscious irony exhibited 

by the true egoist, the instinctive assurance of natural 

superiority felt by the aristocrat, and the ambivalent moods of an 

uncertain lover. 

His third letter (ninth day) expresses alarm at her resistance and 

ill health, asks permission to visit ("consider who it is that requests 

this from you as a favour"), promises she may discharge Mrs. 

Jewkes,4' fears that she may accept, as an escape, "the suit of a 

menial," and admits a jealousy which his "proud heart will hardly 

permit me to own" and for which he despises himself (pp. 117- 

118). Richardson has Pamela's refusal state the real crux of their 

differences: "I too much apprehend that your notions of honour 

and mine are very different from one another." She expects from 

his "exalted station" only "sad temptations and utter distress" but 

asks that her answer to whatever he proposes be "that of a free 

person, and not of a sordid slave" (p. 123). 

When Mr. B. discovers Mr. Williams' futile efforts to enlist the 

help of neighbors and clergy,42 the proposal to Pamela, their plottings 

and correspondence, his jealousy, rage, and fury know no 

4' An obvious foil to Mrs. Jervis, Mrs. Jewkes is also a foil to Mr. B. in villainy, 

for her coarse ruthlessness make his sensibilities almost tender in comparison. As 

jailor and immediate cause of Pamela's hardships Mrs. Jewkes performs another 

important function: she deflects from Mr. B. on to herself much of Pamela's wrath 

and condemnation, a fact of which Mr. B. becomes aware and uses to his 

advantage. 

42 Richardson carefully shows that Mr. B.'s neighboring gentry and clergy in 

both Bedfordshire and Lincolnshire either share Mr. B.'s views of the double 

standard of sexual morality or are tolerant of the men who practice it-"'tis what 

all young men will do."' Mr. Peters warns Williams not to try "to reform mankind 

in this respect," for "it was too common and fashionable a case to be withstood 

by a few clergymen" and cited "the conduct of the present fathers of the 

church, in regard to the first personages of the realm, as a justification of his coldness 

on this score" (pp. 118-119). Richardson uses "the way of the world" to indicate 

Mr. B.'s sexual conduct is not unusually villainous or peculiarly individual 

but all too general and to demonstrate that Pamela could expect no help from 

outside.


bounds. Bitterly galled at being thus hoist on his own petard, the 

wounded egoist immediately has his "ungrateful" chaplain arrested 

for debt and vows his "utter ruin." Letters to Mrs. Jewkes and to 

Pamela (25th day, misaddressed so that Pamela gets to see both) 

pour out his outraged love and pride. To the housekeeper, he 

declares his certainty that Pamela would have run away with 

Williams and expresses hate with a grandiloquence befitting "the 

very ecstacy" of jealous love: "though I will do nothing to her 

myself, yet I can bear, for the sake of my revenge, injured honour, 

and slighted love, to see any thing, even what she most fears, be 

done to her." In the grand manner, he casts her away, "then she 

may be turned loose to her evil destiny, and echo to the woods and 

groves her piteous lamentations for the loss of her fantastical innocence 

which the romantic idiot makes such a work about" (p. 145). 

He bitterly addresses Pamela, "Well have you done, perverse, 

forward, artful, yet foolish Pamela, to convince me, before it is too 

late, how ill I had done to place my affections on so unworthy an 

object" and upbraids "the specious hypocrite" for intriguing to run 

away with a stranger rather than "repose the least confidence" in 

him whom she had known for years "though I have solemnly 

engaged my honour to you." Her deceit has destroyed his faith 

in "bashful modesty and unspotted innocence," and he now despises 

himself that "my passion, in spite of my pride and the difference 

of our condition, made me stoop to a meanness." He revengefully 

concludes, "As therefore, you would place no confidence in me, my 

honour owes you nothing: and in a little time you shall find how 

much you have erred in treating as you have done a man who was 

once your affectionate and kind friend" (pp. 146-147). 

In this picture of the wounded egoist and hurt lover-rationalizing 

to prove himself the only injured party, ignoring his own faults, 

threatening reprisals-Richardson makes his villain-hero very human 

and his exaggerations ironically humorous. But not to Pamela. 

Her hopes of escape plummet to nadir as the threats of Mr. B. become 

all too real. Desperate, she plans an escape with a faked 

self-drowning to delay pursuit; but failing in her attempt, she faces 

a second temptation trial (pp. 151-156), one more dreadful than 

before and one in which the tempter-foe is Pamela herself, and the 

sin greater than loss of chastity. Temporarily losing faith in God's 

providence, she contemplates suicide, but Divine Grace gives 

strength to repulse "the presumption of her own mind" and saves

PAMELA 461 

her from "the sin that admits no repentance and can therefore hope 

no forgiveness." 43 On hearing that her master almost "drowned 

in crossing the stream, a few days ago, in pursuing his game," 

Pamela rejoices in his safety, though "his death would have ended 

my afflictions." 44 Her confession, "oh what an angel he would be 

in my eyes yet, if he would cease his attempts and reform!" she 

hides from her conscience by the covering reason: "for my good 

lady's sake I must wish him well" (pp. 159-160). 

When the incensed Mr. B. arrives on the 36th day of Pamela's 

captivity, jealousy evidently has hardened his resolve to succeed at 

any cost, for he comes with a predetermined course of action: 

either Pamela will accept his final offer to be his mistress or he 

will take her by force. His semi-contract of articles (pp. 168-173) 

proposes to set her up publicly as his mistress (stipulating that she 

first prove she did not encourage the "hated parson") and promises 

practically everything but "the foolish ceremony of marriage." 

Exceedingly generous, the articles demonstrate his desire for her 

voluntary compliance (he will give her five hundred guineas, 

beautiful clothes and jewels, permanently settle his Kent estate upon 

her, aid her parents and any other relatives). He explicitly warns, 

"if these proposals are not accepted, [you] shall find that I have not 

taken all these pains, and risqued my reputation, without resolving 

to gratify my passion for you, at all adventures;" but if her conduct 

satisfies him, "I know not (but will not engage for this) that I may, 

after a twelve-month's cohabitation, marry you; for if my love 

increase for you, as it has done for many months past, it will be 

impossible for me to deny you any thing" (pp. 170-171). The 

frankness of this statement attests its sincerity. Fearful of refusal, 

his pride warns, "I will not sue meanly where I can command," 

"I cannot bear denial"; his love bargains, "If the terms I have 

offered are not sufficient, I will augment them to two-thirds of my 

estate"; and both love and pride swear the "dreadful oath," "I 

cannot live without you: and, since the thing is gone so far, I will 

not!" 

Pamela's rejection is equally frank and unequivocal; she speaks 

43For further discussion see Sharrock, "Richardson's Pamela," pp. 67-74, and 

Albert M. Lyles, "Pamela's Trials," College Language Association Journal, 8 

(1965), 290-292. 

44Note obvious conscious craftsmanship: the trial scenes of mind and spirit 

parallel the two bedroom scenes of physical attempt; the fake, the contemplated, 

and the near-accidental drownings are a contrived coincidence both for present 

ironic effect and for future emotional effect on Mr. B.'s heart.


as a free soul and gains dignity thereby: "I will make no free-will 

(italics mine) offering of my virtue"; nor is she mealy-mouthed 

or prudish in describing Mr. B.'s tentative proposal after a twelvemonths' 

cohabitation: "What, Sir, would the world say, were you 

to marry your harlot?" She prays to be let "enjoy my poverty with 

honesty and that God Almighty will save you from this sin, and 

me from this ruin!" 

Upon such answers, Mr. B. "flares very high in passion" and that 

night, the 38th day of her captivity, proceeds to carry out his previously 

prepared plan of force (pp. 176-184). Pamela's report 

again gives the reader an ironic double vision of the preliminary 

action, only this time Richardson has Pamela undress completely 

and chatter longer, and he makes "deeper" the second "deep" scene 

by describing in detail how Pamela's body is pinned down by the 

arms of the other two. Mr. B.'s actions thereafter show, however, 

that rape is repugnant to his nature. He trembles "like an aspen 

leaf"; at Pamela's screams he pauses, begs her to accept his articles 

and he will yet leave her. When he puts his hand into her bosom, 

and Pamela loses consciousness, he is overcome with fright and 

concern, helps revive her, allays her anxiety by sending for Nan to 

replace Mrs. Jewkes, vows to God he has not harmed her, and withdraws 

with "a countenance of remorse." Clearly, his desistance 

despite Mrs. Jewkes's coarse incitement is motivated by concern 

and love. Shaken almost as much as Pamela, Mr. B. at last fully 

realizes how much she means to him and how much virtue means 

to her. His later frank admission, "I could curse my weakness and 

folly, which makes me own that I love you beyond all your sex, and 

cannot live without you," gives belief to his declaration, "But if I 

am master of myself, and my own resolution, I will not attempt 

to force you to any thing again." 

Real love has indeed banished the idea of force. Mr. B.'s voluntary 

relinquishment shows he is learning the discipline of control; 

the dye of his "villainy" begins to fade. But he is still torn by great 

indecision, for he faces two alternatives, both formerly inconceivable 

and both displeasing. Shall he marry his servant or return her 

safe home (p. 244)? Finally convinced of the value "honesty/ 

honour" has for Pamela, Mr. B. now doubts her love. Convinced 

of his love, Pamela still doubts his honor, a doubt greatly strengthened 

by overhearing his remark, "kindness might thaw her," and by 

a current sham-marriage rumor. If he decides for marriage, Mr. B.

PAMELA 463 

knows it will be obvious to his world that he weds for love only, but 

can he or the world be sure that his wife does also? "More nice 

than many gentlemen" (as Mr. B. tells us himself), he demands a 

wife to whom he is all in all, forever and forever. Only such devotion 

can compensate for his stooping to marriage with his servant; 

only such a love can offset the world's opinion that by such a 

marriage she gains everything, he nothing. The more tormented he 

is with doubts, the more sensitive he becomes at any doubt of his 

honor, the very doubt that poor Pamela can scarcely help feeling 

or at times showing and expressing. 

After the second physical attempt, Richardson immediately 

builds up a dramatic psychological situation between the lovers, 

one with high emotional intensity that constantly alternates in its 

effects but yet steadily increases tension to breaking-point. In short, 

just the kind of emotional scene made to order for Richardson, 

and he draws from it every bit of drama and sensibility there is. 

For five days (from the 41st through the 45th of her captivity) the 

master analyzes his problem with his fearful-hopeful servant, and 

by asking her advice, implicitly invites her to help decide her own 

fate! Absorbed in himself, he seems oblivious to the sadistic cruelty 

in her position. The love scenes that follow are fiery or sweet as 

Mr. B.'s ego and jealousy are either aroused or placated (pp. 180- 

220). Telling her alternately that he cannot live without her and 

cannot marry, he confesses that her defense of her virtue and her 

rejection of his terms have only increased his passion and reminds 

her that he is "not a very abandoned profligate": "Had I been 

utterly given up to my passions, I should, before now, have gratified 

them, and not have shewn that remorse and compassion for 

you, which have reprieved you more than once, when absolutely 

in my power; and you are as inviolate a virgin as you were when 

you came into my house" (pp. 192-193). (Note that Richardson 

has Mr. B. himself answer here those critics who ask why he did 

not pursue his villainous design to a successful end.) 

While dramatizing the hero's indecision, Richardson stresses the 

pride that permits Mr. B. to doubt while disallowing Pamela the 

right to do so and his self-absorbed ego that disregards her justifiable 

anxiety. When the alarmed Pamela fears his good resolution 

may fail, Mr. B. angrily declares, "When I tell you once again that 

you cannot oblige me more than by placing some confidence in me, 

I will let you know that these foolish and perverse doubts are the


worst things you can be guilty of." Gradually it becomes clear that 

Mr. B.'s ego and jealousy are causing his hesitation; he keeps seeking 

more reliable evidence than Pamela's present assurance that 

she has never loved anyone but him. Fortunately the middle portion 

of Pamela's journal is discovered and promptly takes center 

stage, for Richardson has so arranged and dramatized its appearance 

that the reader is afforded multiple vision of the remarkable 

scene of concentrated sensibility which precipitates the story's 

climax. 

We first witness the raillery, tricks, and playful threats to undress 

her by which Mr. B. finally gets the middle and last sections from 

Pamela. We also watch Pamela making the recapitulations of the 

various journal sections before yielding them to Mr. B., recapitulations 

which remind Pamela and us exactly what subject matter 

Mr. B. will be reading at any given time.45 By arranging that 

Mr. B. must perforce begin in media res Richardson increases his 

hero's jealousy, his heroine's fears, and the reader's suspense. 

On Sunday morning, the 45th day, destined to be the last of her 

captivity, Mr. B. asks Pamela to accompany him to the pond where 

he will read of her attempted escape. The privileged reader can see 

Mr. B. reading beside the pond and his subsequent actions, see 

Pamela walking at a little distance, see her watching Mr. B.'s face 

as he reads, and can anticipate the moment of Mr. B.'s first learning 

of her contemplated suicide. Thus the reader, made fully sensible 

of all emotional relationships and their importance, can feel Mr. 

B.'s sensibility as he reads, Pamela's sensibility as she thinks of what 

he is reading and her sensibility as she watches his face for signs 

of his reacting sensibility. As waves of feeling engulf the reader, 

he can sympathize with the powerful emotions felt by Mr. B. who, 

filled with remorse, begs forgiveness. Swept forward by love, 

Mr. B. resolves to make honorable amends: "Come kiss me, and 

tell me you forgive me for exposing you to so much danger and 

distress. If I can see those former papers of yours and these in my 

pocket give me no case to alter my opinion [note his qualifications] 

I will endeavour to defy the world and its censures, and make my 

Pamela amends, if in the power of my whole life, for all the hard- 

5See pp. 204-217; the parcel sent her parents covered from the first to the 17th 

day of captivity, the remaining sections from the 17th to Thursday, the 42nd day; 

her suicide attempt occurs on the 28th day.

PAMELA 465 

ships I have made her undergo" (p. 219). Alas! At this high 

moment Pamela, still doubftul of a sham-marriage, fatefully utters 

her oft-repeated plea, "Permit me to return to my poor parents; 

that is all I ask." 

This worst of all possible replies evokes a storm of wrath which 

blows away all tender feelings. (Note also Richardson's comic 

irony in having the same plea so constantly used by the heroine to 

forestall her "ruin" now apparently ruin her new hopes.) Pamela's 

lack of confidence when he is all sincerity and noble resolve is more 

than her master's ego can bear, a reaction for which Richardson 

has prepared by Mr. B.'s repeated warnings that Pamela trust him. 

In his "fearful passion" he instantly orders a chariot to take her 

home: "And is it thus in my fond conceding moments, that I am 

to be answered and despised? Perverse, unreasonable Pamela! be 

gone from my sight, and know as well how to behave in a hopeful 

prospect, as in a distressful state; . . . Be gone, I tell you, I cannot 

bear this stupid romantic folly" (p. 219). He refuses to see or 

talk further with Pamela but will send later the papers he has not 

yet read. Pamela overhears his reply to Mrs. Jewkes, who urges 

that the girl not go "scot-free": "No more of this, as I told you 

before. . . . What! when I have such proof that her virtue is all 

her pride, shall I rob her of that? No, let her go, perverse and foolish 

as she is; but she deserves to go honest, and she shall so go!" 

Although he will not speak to her, Mr. B. writes for delivery to 

Pamela that night a letter intended to be a dignified farewell of 

noble resignation and good will, but hurt love, ego, and sentimentality 

inevitably creep in. He explains he was just on "the point of 

passing over all other considerations for an honorable address" to 

her when she spoke her "ungenerous preference," and after her 

choosing to go home, he would not have her "tarry with me an 

hour." His sudden dismissal and refusal to see or hear her were due 

to his fear of being swayed by her or by her journal, "for well I 

know my weakness in your favor." Three different times he expresses 

the hope that he will get the better of "his fond folly." Several 

times he expresses his good wishes, from a beginning "I bear 

you no ill will" to a "I wish you well with all my heart." Ego and 

jealousy impel a further wish that Pamela "not think of marrying in 

haste; and particularly not to have this cursed Williams," and he 

indulges the sentimental hope that she "will not refuse to my


memory, the decency every common person observes to my 

ashes." "I He concludes most nobly: "I doubt not your prudence in 

forbearing to expose me any more than is necessary for your own 

justification; and for that I will suffer myself to be accused by you; 

and will also accuse myself, if it be needful. For I am, and ever 

will be, your affectionate well-wisher" (pp. 224-225). 

This letter shows to what degree the entire experience has disciplined 

Mr. B. and differs sharply from the letter of denunciation 

and threats. Ego and pride, though strong, have been constrained 

to acknowledge his wrong and another's right, to recognize the personal 

individuality of his servant, to accept failure, to suffer disappointment; 

they have been softened by love to feel concern for 

someone besides himself, even to the point of personal sacrifice. 

Pamela feels its full force and now consciously admits her love and 

laments the loss of his and realizes, "I have made an escape, to be 

more a prisoner" (p. 225). 

But her journal reveals to Mr. B. what the reader already knows, 

that Pamela loves only him; immediately another letter implores 

her return. With more sensibility than he had dreamed, he finds 

himself ill "with vexation that I parted thus with my soul's delight, 

as I now find you are, and must be, in spite of the pride of my own 

heart." He repents their parting, "and God is my witness! for no 

unlawful end, as you would call it; but the very contrary;" declares 

his love, flatters himself that she can be brought to love him, and 

begs her to return of her own free will, for she shall be under no 

restraint. If necessary, he will follow to her father's, "for I find I 

cannot live without you." He begs her to "forgive the man who 

loves you more than himself;" and to dispatch Monsieur Colbrand 

to her father, assuring him that all will end happily and asking him 

to send the rest of her journal, so that "when I have all my proud, 

and perhaps punctilious doubts answered, I shall have nothing to 

do but make you happy, and be so myself" (pp. 227-228). The 

"punctilious doubts" indicate an ego still intact, yet so disciplined 

that it no longer insists on unquestioning confidence and compliance 

but concedes the possibility of free alternative action. In a 

"The Mountain will come to Mahomet" fashion, Mr. B. condescends 

to visit, if necessary, his servant's home. 

Aware that the world will blame her credulity and imprudence 

46 Mr. B.'s egoism is generous compared to that of Meredith's later Sir Wil- 

loughby Patteme, who tries to persuade Clara to vow never to remarry but to 

remain his beyond death (The Egoist, chap. 6).

PAMELA 467 

if all does not end well, Pamela experiences a brief inner struggle 

between caution and love, which ends in the discovery "love is not 

a voluntary thing" but an "irresistible impulse" and in her free-will 

return (pp. 232; 246). Thus does Love conquer Prudence in 

Pamela as Love conquers Pride in Mr. B. This resolution of inner 

conflicts leads quickly to marriage, and the first part of the story 

of master and servant might aptly be subtitled, "Love Triumphant." 

Richardson's detailed motivation makes the conclusion seem 

inevitable and demonstrates the mutual love that makes the marriage 

morally justifiable. Though brief, Pamela's inner conflict is 

as important to the novel's morality as Mr. B.'s is to its structure, 

for Richardson shows by Pamela's return before she has absolute 

certainty of safety and reputation that consciously trusting love, 

not prudent or mercenary motives, is the moving force. In truth, 

proof of Pamela's love is as important to Richardson's moral purpose 

as to her master's egoism; hence the master's frequent insistence 

that every "punctilious doubt" be satisfied cleverly serves the 

novelist in both development of theme and characterization. 

With battle ended, the approximately two-week courtship between 

their "betrothal" and wedding should be regarded as part of 

the climax, the fourth stage of their personal relationship until marriage 

makes them husband and wife (pp. 232-322). With Mr. B.'s 

words now made reliable by his openly declared "honorable intentions" 

and with freedom to present his villain-hero's inner motivation 

more directly than suspense, plot, and form have hitherto 

allowed, Richardson uses the colloquies and fond recollections 

natural to betrothed lovers to complete the characterization of 

Mr. B., confirming or substantiating by Mr. B.'s confidences the 

clues and hints given earlier through Pamela's reporting. While 

emphasizing favorable "hero" qualities in Mr. B., he makes evident 

that his villain-hero has undergone no sudden conversion but that 

he is learning to control his passionate nature and to make amends 

for past wrongs. Richardson artfully shows how Mr. B.'s whole 

behavior reflects the peace he feels after inner turmoil ends by presenting 

immediately after Pamela's return a third bedroom scene 

which contrasts the after behavior of the egoist-lover with the 

before behavior of the egoist-rake. When Pamela visits Mr. B.'s 

sickbed, his altered manner shows that already his mind has instantly 

elevated her, as his chosen wife, to a position deserving all 

honor; his former "weakness and folly" are now his pride and joy.


The man who twice had invaded his servant's chamber apologizes, 

"I am concerned to return my acknowledgments to you in so unfit 

a place and manner: but will you give me your hand?" (p. 232). 

Although eager and ardent, love henceforth controls physical desire; 

tender words take the place of roving hands, and lovemaking 

is confined to embraces and kisses. He treats with delicacy her 

bridal night fears.47 

But Richardson convincingly demonstrates that Mr. B.'s ego and 

domineering disposition remain essentially unchanged, his manner 

as lordly as ever. Love has made him acknowledge his former 

wrong but has not made him humble. All his acts of goodness (of 

which many, past and present, are now related) must come by his 

own decision and will, not urged by others. Suggesting that he and 

Pamela confide "without reservedness" all that is in their minds, 

egoistic Mr. B. remains amusingly unconscious that he does most 

of the communicating, while Pamela remains obediently receptive. 

His confession of a sham-marriage plan and his reasons for abandoning 

it reveal an obvious mixture of ego, love, and pride in 

intrigue (pp. 244-245). Although he speaks of equality (p. 321 ), 

Mr. B.'s disquisitions on the ideal household and on the ideal marriage 

based on mutual love exhibit his unconscious assumption that 

he will be more the lord and master of his wife than of his servant; 

they indicate his "exactingly nice" nature, his insistence on every 

"punctilio" due him, and above all, his strong ego, ever sensitive 

to the slightest hint, even implication, of any diminution in the 

respect and affection owed to him and deserved by him. Pamela's 

repeated gratitude and praise (also her father's) for his "stooping" 

to exalt her continually soothe his ego; yet that same ego, never 

fully recovering from jealous apprehension of Pamela's possible 

preference for Williams, seeks frequent reassurance of her love 

(pp. 246,457). 

Never glossing over past misdeeds, Mr. B. states frankly his past 

and present motives, telling Pamela that since he could not conquer 

his passion, "I corrected myself, and resolved, since you would not 

be mine, upon my terms, you should upon your own: and now I 

desire you not on any other" (p. 273) and enjoys more sincere 

joy and satisfaction than ever "guilty tumults" afforded. Repent- 

47Recognizing his former libertine actions might well produce apprehension, 

Mr. B. assures Pamela his conduct as a husband will be most exemplary (p. 312). 

Typically, Richardson gives both the before and after of the bridal night. See 

pp. 312, 324, 330.

PAMELA 469 

ance does not subdue his honor; he teases Pamela with sly references 

to "her new way of planting beans and improving sunflowers" 

and jokes about his being made "the best fox-hunter in England." 

Joined in matrimony and love, the happy couple turn to the 

problem of inducing the world to accept their marriage. Richardson 

in the plot's lengthy resolution (pp. 323-460) completes his 

general scheme by having the loving pair demonstrate that in their 

union private good is social good and therefore this particular 

marriage is socially acceptable as well as morally justifiable. Mr. 

B.'s strategy for victory demonstrates the discipline gained over his 

impatient will and unruly passions. To "take off the world's wonder" 

by degrees and to teach it to know what is due his wife, he will 

share equally with Pamela all his possessions and will have her 

dress finely "as my wife ought to do" (p. 325). When his world 

knows her story and merit, it will recognize that Pamela brings him 

qualities infinitely more valuable than rank or fortune and that he 

cannot recompense her for her sufferings, and that he himself 

glories "in being capable of distinguishing so much excellence." 

He will advise the world to "know your excellence and my happiness, 

before they presume to judge of my actions and your merit!" 

The later quick approval of his Lincolnshire and Bedfordshire 

friends and neighbors proves the efficacy of these methods, strengthened, 

of course, by his great victory in securing Lady Davers' 

acceptance, since her example would influence other great ladies. 

Mr. B. does not underestimate the difficult task of reconciling his 

sister, whose haughty nature he knows to be as passionate as his 

own, and foresees it will require the greatest restraint and patience 

on his part. For this crucial confrontation Richardson had prepared 

long before by Lady Davers' letter of denunciation and 

threat of a visit, which is the single cloud on courtship's bright horizon 

and which the author occasionally mentions to provide suspense.48 

Richardson effectively dramatizes the battle for social 

recognition by using Lady Davers as the formidable representative 

of their world's opinion and by purposely casting Mr. B. as sympathetic 

hero. Pamela (except for her big scene with Lady Davers) 

in a supporting role as an "obliging wife" primarily displays appropriate 

right feelings, devotion to benevolence, and fitness for her 

48 The letter occasions Pamela's most indignant reflections on the vanity of class 

pride (they occur throughout the novel) but she wisely keeps them to herself 

(pp. 233-234). Mention of Lady Davers' impending visit occurs on pages 238, 

301, 306, 325, 326, 328; her arrival occurs on p. 349.


"exalted condition." Mr. B. as protagonist and husband dominates 

and directs the action and becomes chief spokesman (except for 

Pamela's religious reflections) of the novel's values concerning 

marriage, individual worth, and virtue. Richardson further arranges 

that Pamela must endure alone a terrible ordeal from Lady Davers 

of insult, vituperation, and physical threat (pp. 349-367). By first 

depicting her abominable treatment of Pamela, he increases the 

reader's sympathy for Mr. B. when he confronts his furious sister, 

for now he appears as defender of his wife's virtue and honor as well 

as of his marriage. 

Richardson demonstrates through action that the protective hero 

has totally eclipsed the former predatory villain and in the stormy 

battle between brother and sister (pp. 383-404) makes clear how 

very much their basic temperaments are alike and how much they 

differ because Mr. B.'s newly learned discipline gives him greater 

control over all his passions. Through their heated contest Richardson 

underscores the novel's themes and their importance in social 

living, and demonstrates how Mr. B. has altered his values as he 

effectively refutes the very opinions he himself had held before. But 

paradoxically, while arguing individual worth should be based on 

virtue, Mr. B. fights for Pamela's right to the respect and privileges 

of the station to which his marriage has elevated her. Neither 

Richardson nor his hero, neither his heroine nor her father argues 

for the abolition of a class-structured society or for disregard of 

social convention and opinion. What Mr. B. presents is a practical 

case for enough social flexibility to allow, where no public harm is 

done, individual freedom of choice and justifiable exceptions to the 

general guide-rules for approved marriages.49 

Long does Mr. B. endure his sister's outrageous behavior and 

control his mounting anger, but when she attacks Pamela's merits 

and rakes up his past misdeeds of the Italian duel and the Sally 

Godfrey affair, he blazes in passion, all the greater for being so 

long held in check, ignores his sister's apology and declares he will 

never see her again. Frightened into sense, Lady Davers now 

accepts Pamela and begs for her intercession, knowing that "he will 

49 Lady Davers' fierce scene with Pamela parallels the earlier verbal battles 

between master and maid and her effort to keep Pamela captive in the room parallels 

Mr. B.'s own imprisonment of his servant; both thus remind the reader what 

Mr. B.'s behavior was before and what it has now become. While justifying 

his own freedom of choice, Mr. B. denies the same freedom to his sister because of 

woman's different position in society and in marriage (pp. 389-391).

PAMELA 471 

not easily forgive." But poor Pamela unwittingly pierces to the core 

of his ego when she begs his reconciliation to his sister and his 

anger be directed to herself. All of his cumulative wrath then descends 

upon her: "Presuming Pamela, art thou then so hardy, so 

well able to sustain my displeasure, which of all things I expected 

from thy affection, and thy tenderness, thou wouldst have wished 

to avoid? Now, begone from me, and reflect upon what I have 

said!" (pp. 402-403). Aghast at this turn of events, the two women 

humble themselves in tearful apologies till they finally melt his rage. 

The storm is over, the reconciliation complete. 

In this scene Richardson emphasizes Mr. B.'s basic qualities of 

nature; the irate "Begone!" exactly echoes previous cries of wounded 

ego, particularly in the parallel scene of Pamela's first dismissal. 

He realistically shows that the change wrought by disciplining experience 

is one of degree rather than of kind; Mr. B., as his sister 

attests, can now control his temper longer and forgive sooner than 

before. Mr. B.'s ego cannot forget, although his love has forgiven, 

Pamela's interference on his sister's behalf: "I cannot bear that 

you should wish, on any occasion whatever, to have me angry with 

you, or not to value my displeasure as the heaviest misfortune that 

could befall you," and warns, "never think of making a compliment 

to her or any body living at my expense." To Pamela's fear of 

offending without design, he utters the magnificent reassurance that 

he will not be "a very tyrannical husband," for he does "not pretend 

to be perfect or always governed by reason in my first transports." 

He now explains why he shunned matrimony, why people of fortune 

are generally educated wrong, and why a lady brought up in the 

manner he was would never suit him and why Pamela does; but to 

insure precise obedience, he further details exactly what he expects 

in a wife (pp. 409-418). What he terms a "faint sketch," Pamela 

later codifies into forty-eight separate rules! 

While Mr. B.'s doctrines reflect commonly accepted precepts,50 

Richardson humorously distinguishes by Pamela's shrewd comments 

the "nice particulars" of his hero and by her amused reservations 

he reassures us that our heroine has regained her common 

sense and independent spirit, a recovery undoubtedly hastened by 

the family storm which enabled the worshiping young wife to realize 

50 See Katherine Hornbeak, "Richardson's 

Familiar Letters and the Domestic 

Conduct Books," Smith College Studies in Modern Languages, 19, no. 2 (Jan., 

1938), 14-15.


that her "majestic" husband was something less than god-like.5' 

With Pamela "her very own self" again, readers can have little 

doubt that she will succeed in managing as well as gratifying her 

egoist-husband. Even so, all women will agree with Pamela's general 

conclusion about her marriage to Mr. B., "I have not the easiest 

task in the world"; few would care to undertake the job. 

Richardson closes his novel with the married couple's return to 

Bedfordshire,52 where almost a year and a half ago the story began. 

Pamela relives "before and after" emotions when she visits familiar 

places and experiences new ones when she meets "little Miss Goodwin" 

and hears from Mr. B. the whole "melancholy but instructive 

story." 5 Here Richardson uses his technique of parallelism on the 

largest possible scale to make sure readers understand how Pamela's 

present story could have become a duplicate of Sally Godfrey's past 

one. The sharply different "turning-points"-seduction and its sad 

after-effects instead of marriage and its good effects-not only 

require us to review in our mind the "before" and "after" parts of 

the whole novel but forcefully emphasize that seduction is for selfish 

motives and that marriage is for both private and social good. Marriage 

is the institution of civil society most favorable to both religion 

and good order; in the religious ideal of matrimony, mutual 

love is an essential requirement. 

Considering the critical debate over the subtitle, "Virtue Rewarded," 

surprisingly few readers have noted the complete absence 

in the novel of its natural corollary (according to popular Christian 

belief and to poetic justice)-Vice Punished. In fact, no one is 

punished, all are forgiven, and everyone is rewarded. Richardson 

the novelist could hardly do otherwise, since his story made the 

hero before marriage the greatest sinner of all; but with his "correction," 

the happy ending rewards him with a loving virtuous 

wife, whose "price is far above rubies." Richardson keeps the 

married couple busy exercising the Christian virtues of forgiveness 

and of benevolence, exhibiting in the latter the prime social duty 

51 After marriage, Pamela had been so overwhelmed by Mr. B's condescension 

in "stooping" and by his goodness that she regarded him as next to God; see particularly 

pp. 248, 316, 336, 432. 

52 Before they leave, Pamela lends her journal to Lady Davers, hoping that her 

sister-in-law will see "it is all God Almighty's doings; and that a gentleman of his 

parts and knowledge was not to be drawn in by such a poor young body as me" 

(p. 437). Thus Richardson has his heroine as well as the villain-hero refute her 

future critics. 

53 Richardson effectively uses repetition to build up suspense in the Sally Godfrey 

story. See pp. 400, 403, 408, 415, 418, 434, 442.

PAMELA 473 

expected of the upper class. Of his own accord, Mr. B. apologizes 

to Mr. Williams and makes generous retribution. The lovers first 

forgive each other (no matter how unequal the debt) and reward 

each other by giving their marital selves; and then each, out of love 

for the other, forgives those servants who had proved loyal to the 

other; so that all, even Mrs. Jewkes (pp. 309-310) and "honestdishonest 

John," are forgiven and are rewarded with generous 

wedding largesse, albeit proportionately according to the hierarchy 

of servant order (pp. 328-330; 428-435) . 

Leaving the happy couple "secured in each other's good opinion" 

and that of their world, let us summarize their author's achievements. 

Ably coping with difficulties imposed by plot and form, 

Richardson effectively displays both his understanding of male 

psychology and his conscious artistry in the fully detailed portrait 

of his villain-hero. As presented by his creator, Mr. B. is neither 

devil nor angel nor "booby," but a very human arrogant young 

male, divided in mind and heart, who experiences salutary self-discipline 

when he encounters Pamela, a servant educated as a gentlewoman, 

trained in virtue and piety, and indomitable in their 

defense. Though he learns much about human nature and values, 

the dominant egoism of his nature remains basically the same and 

makes him a consistently understandable individual, if not wholly 

likable. The characterization remains a portrait, not a study like 

Meredith's The Egoist, because Richardson did not sufficiently 

possess the Comic Spirit's oblique light. Although he does not dissect 

every nerve and vein of male egoism, Richardson's conscious 

as well as intuitive sense of realism leads him to record faithfully 

his observations and to perceive ego's significant part in human 

motivation and some of the comedy inherent in its workings; his 

resultant picture of Mr. B. is devastating enough. 

It is by his individualized characterization of both his heroine 

54In his concluding moralist-editor's observations, Richardson makes specific 

the respective virtues and weaknesses of all his cast and the moral lesson their 

behavior exemplifies. To his comment on Mr. B. Richardson in the two first editions 

of Pamela I adds another paragraph which lists more specific good traits 

(omitted in the Everyman and Norton editions): 

"The Generosity of his Mind; his Sobriety, as to Wine and Hours; his prudent 

Economy and Hospitality; the Purity and Constancy of his Affection, after his 

Change; his polite Behaviour to his Pamela; his generous Provision for her, in 

case he had died; his Bounty to her Parents, attended with such Marks of Prudence 

as made them useful to himself, as well as render'd them happy; and shew'd he 

was not acted merely by a blind and partial Passion; are so many Instances 

worthy of being remember'd in his Favour, and of being imitated, in Degree, by 

all such as are circumstanced as he was."


and villain-hero with their remarkably detailed psychological motivation 

and by his "before-and-after" patterned plot that Richardson 

successfully accomplishes his double purpose of showing why this 

particular union of love deserves both moral and social sanction. 

In a sense, the marriage of Mr. B. and Pamela could symbolize the 

"social compromise" advocated by the Society for the Reformation 

of Manners and Morals and so industriously promulgated by the 

Tatler and Spectator papers.55 Richardson's achievement in making 

his epistolary form play an unusually dynamic role in the plot 

is noteworthy in itself and indubitable proof of planned craft. Few 

authors can have been so continually conscious of writing a novel 

since he has his heroine and especially his villain-hero constantly 

aware of its writing, its story aspect, and its effect. In fact, the 

first critics of Pamela are its principal characters: Lady Davers 

calls it an "uncommon story," Pamela sees in it a "surprising kind 

of novel," and Mr. B., who takes a proprietary interest and maintains 

a running comment throughout, calls it a "pretty novel," a 

"wondrous story." As editor, Richardson "thinks any Apology 

unnecessary" for "this little Work" and proudly "bespeaks" it to the 

"Passions of Every one who shall read it with Attention." Indeed, 

attentive readers, whatever their personal opinion of the author's 

morality, masculinity, or unconscious, must conclude that far from 

blundering into art with an "unplanned accident" Richardson has 

achieved in Pamela a well-constructed, closely integrated whole 

design, a work of art that in places may show the 'prentice hand 

but in the main displays those characteristics of conscious artistry, 

instinctive genius, and creative energy which mark his later works, 

a novel that well deserves its place as first example of the modern 

form. 

University of California, Davis 

55 Addison and Steele endeavored to effect the purpose of the "compromise"-to 

teach the upper class the virtues of the middle class and the middle class the 

manners of the upper class-by "tempering wit with morality" and "enlivening 

morality with wit" (Spectator, no. 10). Mr. B.'s agreement is shown by his statement, 

"I would wish, by degrees, by a conformity of my manners to your virtue, to 

shew to every one the force of your example" (p. 399) and by his kind admonition 

to Pamela not to be too grave or serious, to introduce "sweet divinity" into conversation 

only when it can be done appropriately and cheerfully (p. 303). Implicit 

here is a promise that Mr. B.'s gaiety and humor will counterbalance Pamela's 

tendency to self-righteousness, prudishness, and excessive piety; in this union the 

change for improvement may not be all on one side, although vastly different in 

degree and kind (Utter and Needham, Pamela's Daughters, pp. 60-64).

Richardson's Characterization of Mr. B. and Double Purpose in ...

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