It was now that the Airing began to grow pleasant to me. Mr. Williams, who never had but one Fault, viz. that he generally smells of Tobacco, was now perfectly sweet; for he had for two Days together enjoined himself as a Penance, not to smoke till he had kissed my Lips. I will loosen you from that Obligation, says I, and observing my Husband looking another way, I gave him a charming Kiss, and then he asked me Questions concerning my Wedding-night; this actually made me blush: I vow I did not think, it had been in him.
As he went along, he began to discourse very learnedly, and told me the Flesh and the Spirit were too distinct Matters, which had not the least relation to each other. That all immaterial Substances (those were his very Words) such as Love, Desire, and so forth, were guided by the Spirit: But fine Houses, large Estates, Coaches, and dainty Entertainments were the Product of the Flesh. Therefore, says he, my Dear, you have two Husbands, one the Object of your Love, and to satisfy your Desire; the other the Object of your Necessity, and to furnish you with those other Conveniences. (I am sure I remember every Word, for he repeated it three Times; O he is very good whenever I desire him to repeat a thing to me three times he always doth it!) as then the Spirit is preferable, to the Flesh, so am I preferable to your other Husband, to whom I am antecedent in Time likewise. I say these things, my Dear, (said he) to satisfie your Conscience. A Fig, for my Conscience, said I, when shall I meet you again in the Garden?
My Husband now rode up to the Chariot, and asked us how we did — I hate the Sight of him. Mr. Williams answered very well, at your Service. They then talked of the Weather, and other things, I wished him gone again, every Minute; but all in vain I had no more Opportunity of conversing with Mr. Williams.
Well; at Dinner Mr. Booby was very civil to Mr. Williams, and told him he was sorry for what had happened, and would make him sufficient Amends, if in his power, and desired him to accept of a Note for fifty Pounds; which he was so good to receive, notwithstanding all that had past; and told Mr. Booby, he hop’d he would be forgiven, and that he would pray for him.
We make a charming Fool of him, i’fackins; Times are finely altered, I have entirely got the better of him, and am resolved never to give him his Humour.
O how foolish it is in a Woman, who hath once got the Reins into her own Hand, ever to quit them again.
After Dinner Mr. Williams drank the Church et cætera; and smiled on me; when my Husband’s Turn came, he drank et cætera and the Church; for which he was very severely rebuked by Mr. Williams; it being a high Crime, it seems, to name any thing before the Church. I do not know what Et cetera is, but I believe it is something concerning chusing Pallament Men; for I asked if it was not a Health to Mr. Booby’s Borough, and Mr. Williams with a hearty Laugh answered, Yes, Yes, it is his Borough we mean.
I slipt out as soon as I could, hoping Mr. Williams would finish the Squire, as I have heard him say he could easily do, and come to me; but it happened quite otherwise, for in about half an Hour, Booby came to me, and told me he had left Mr. Williams, the Mayor of his Borough, and two or three Aldermen heartily at it, and asked me if I would go hear Williams sing a Catch, which, added he, he doth to a Miracle.
Every Opportunity of seeing my dear Williams, was agreeable to me, which indeed I scarce had at this time; for when we returned, the whole Corporation were got together, and the Room was in a Cloud of Tobacco; Parson Williams was at the upper End of the Table, and he hath pure round cherry Cheeks, and his Face look’d all the World to nothing like the Sun in a Fog. If the Sun had a Pipe in his Mouth, there would be no Difference.
I began now to grow uneasy, apprehending I should have no more of Mr. Williams’s Company that Evening, and not at all caring for my Husband, I advised him to sit down and drink for his Country with the rest of the Company; but he refused, and desired me to give him some Tea; swearing nothing made him so sick, as to hear a Parcel of Scoundrels, roaring forth the Principles of honest Men over their Cups, when, says he, I know most of them are such empty Blockheads, that they don’t know their right Hand from their left; and that Fellow there, who hath talked so much of Shipping, at the left Side of the Parson, in whom they all place a Confidence, if I don’t take care, will sell them to my Adversary.
I don’t know why I mention this Stuff to you; for I am sure I know nothing about Pollitricks, more than Parson Williams tells me; who says that the Court-side are in the right on’t, and that every Christian ought to be on the same with the Bishops.
When we had finished our Tea, we walked in the Garden till it was dark, and then my Husband proposed, instead of returning to the Company, (which I desired, that I might see Parson Williams again,) to sup in another Room by our selves, which, for fear of making him jealous, and considering too, that Parson Williams would be pretty far gone, I was obliged to consent to.
O! what a devilish thing it is, for a Woman to be obliged to go to bed to a spindle-shanked young Squire, she doth not like, when there is a jolly Parson in the same House she is fond of.
In the Morning I grew very peevish, and in the Dumps, notwithstanding all he could say or do to please me. I exclaimed against the Priviledge of Husbands, and vowed I would not be pulled and tumbled about. At last he hit on the only Method, which could have brought me into Humour, and proposed to me a Journey to London, within a few Days. This you may easily guess pleased me; for besides the Desire which I have of shewing my self forth, of buying fine Cloaths, Jewels, Coaches, Houses, and ten thousand other fine things, Parson Williams is, it seems, going thither too, to be instuted.
O! what a charming Journey I shall have; for I hope to keep the dear Man in the Chariot with me all the way; and that foolish Booby (for that is the Name Mr. Williams hath set him) will ride on Horseback.
So as I shall have an Opportunity of seeing you so shortly, I think I will mention no more Matters to you now. O I had like to have forgot one very material thing; which is that it will look horribly, for a Lady of my Quality and Fashion, to own such a Woman as you for my Mother. Therefore we must meet in private only, and if you will never claim me, nor mention me to any one, I will always allow you what is very handsome. Parson Williams hath greatly advised me in this; and says, he thinks I should do very well to lay out twenty Pounds, and set you up in a little Chandler’s Shop: but you must remember all my Favours to you will depend on your Secrecy; for I am positively resolved, I will not be known to be your Daughter; and if you tell any one so, I shall deny it with all my Might, which Parson Williams says, I may do with a safe Conscience, being now a married Woman. So I rest
Your humble Servant,
Shamela.
P. S. The strangest Fancy hath enter’d into my Booby’s Head, that can be imagined. He is resolved to have a Book made about him and me; he proposed it to Mr. Williams, and offered him a Reward for his Pains; but he says he never writ any thing of that kind, but will recommend my Husband, when he comes to Town, to a Parson who does that Sort of Business for Folks, one who can make my Husband, and me, and Parson Williams, to be all great People; for he can make black white, it seems. Well, but they say my Name is to be altered, Mr. Williams, says the first Syllabub hath too comical a Sound, so it is to be changed into Pamela; I own I can’t imagine what can be said; for to be sure I shan’t confess any of my Secrets to them, and so I whispered Parson Williams about that, who answered me, I need not give my self any Trouble; for the Gentleman who writes Lives, never asked more than a few Names of his Customers, and that he made all the rest out of his own Head; you mistake, Child, said he, if you apprehend any Truths are to be delivered. So far on the contrary, if you had not been acquainted with the Name, you would not have known it to be your own History. I have seen a Piece of his Performance, where the Person, whose Life was written, could he have risen from the Dead again, would not have even suspected he had been aimed at, unless by the Title of the Book, which was superscribed with his Name. Well, all these Matters are strange to me, yet I can’t help laughing, to think I shall see my self in a printed Book.
* * *
So much for Mrs. Shamela, or Pamela, which I have taken Pains to transcribe from the Originals, sent down by her Mother in a Rage, at the Proposal in her last Letter. The Originals themselves are in my hands, and shall be communicated to you, if you think proper to make them publick; and certainly they will have their Use. The Character of Shamela, will make young Gentlemen wary how they take the most fatal Step both to themselves and Families, by youthful, hasty and improper Matches; indeed, they may assure themselves, that all Such Prospects of Happiness are vain and delusive, and that they sacrifice all the solid Comforts of their Lives, to a very transient Satisfaction of a Passion, which how hot so ever it be, will be soon cooled; and when cooled, will afford them nothing but Repentance.
Can any thing be more miserable, than to be despised by the whole World, and that must certainly be the Consequence; to be despised by the Person obliged, which it is more than probable will be the Consequence, and of which, we see an Instance in Shamela; and lastly to despise one’s self, which must be the Result of any Reflection on so weak and unworthy a Choice.
As to the Character of Parson Williams, I am sorry it is a true one. Indeed those who do not know him, will hardly believe it so; but what Scandal doth it throw on the Order to have one bad Member, unless they endeavour to screen and protect him? In him you see a Picture of almost every Vice exposed in nauseous and odious Colours; and if a Clergyman would ask me by what Pattern he should form himself, I would say, Be the reverse of Williams: So far therefore he may be of use to the Clergy themselves, and though God forbid there should be many Williams’s amongst them, you and I are too honest to pretend, that the Body wants no Reformation.
To say the Truth, I think no greater Instance of the contrary can be given than that which appears in your Letter. The confederating to cry up a nonsensical ridiculous Book, (I believe the most extensively so of any ever yet published,) and to be so weak and so wicked as to pretend to make it a Matter of Religion; whereas so far from having any moral Tendency, the Book is by no means innocent: For,
First, There are many lascivious Images in it, very improper to be laid before the Youth of either Sex.
2dly, Young Gentlemen are here taught, that to marry their Mother’s Chambermaids, and to indulge the Passion of Lust, at the Expence of Reason and Common Sense, is an Act of Religion, Virtue, and Honour; and, indeed the surest Road to Happiness.
3dly, All Chambermaids are strictly enjoyned to look out after their Masters; they are taught to use little Arts to that purpose: And lastly, are countenanced in Impertinence to their Superiors, and in betraying the Secrets of Families.
4thly, In the Character of Mrs. Jewkes Vice is rewarded; whence every Housekeeper may learn the Usefulness of pimping and bawding for her Master.
5thly, In Parson Williams, who is represented as a faultless Character, we see a busy Fellow, intermeddling with the private Affairs of his Patron, whom he is very ungratefully forward to expose and condemn on every Occasion.
Many more Objections might, if I had Time or Inclination, be made to this Book; but I apprehend, what hath been said is sufficient to persuade you of the use which may arise from publishing an Antidote to this Poison. I have therefore sent you the Copies of these Papers, and if you have Leisure to communicate them to the Press, I will transmit you the Originals, tho’ I assure you, the Copies are exact.
I shall only add, that there is not the least Foundation for any thing which is said of Lady Davers, or any of the other Ladies; all that is merely to be imputed to the Invention of the Biographer. I have particularly enquired after Lady Davers, and dont hear Mr. Booby hath such a Relation, or that there is indeed any such Person existing. I am,
Dear Sir,
Most faithfully and respectfully,
Your humble Servant,
J. Oliver.
1: This was the Letter which is lost.
Parson Tickletext to Parson Oliver.
Dear SIR,
I Have read over the History of Shamela, as it appears in those authentick Copies you favour’d me with, and am very much ashamed of the Character, which I was hastily prevailed on to give that Book. I am equally angry with the pert Jade herself, and with the Author of her Life: For I scarce know yet to whom I chiefly owe an Imposition, which hath been so general, that if Numbers could defend me from Shame, I should have no Reason to apprehend it.
As I have your implied Leave to publish, what you so kindly sent me, I shall not wait for the Originals, as you assure me the Copies are exact, and as I am really impatient to do what I think a serviceable Act of Justice to the World.
Finding by the End of her last Letter, that the little Hussy was in Town, I made it pretty much my Business to enquire after her, but with no effect hitherto: As soon as I succeed in this Enquiry, you shall hear what Discoveries I can learn. You will pardon the Shortness of this Letter, as you shall be troubled with a much longer very soon: And believe me,
Dear Sir,
Your most faithful Servant,
Tho. Tickletext.
P. S. Since I writ, I have a certain Account that Mr. Booby hath caught his Wife in bed with Williams; hath turned her off, and is prosecuting him in the spiritual Court.
FINIS
THE HISTORY OF THE ADVENTURES OF JOSEPH ANDREW S
Fielding’s first full-length novel was published in 1742. Defined by the author as a ‘comic epic poem in prose’, it narrates the story of a good-natured footman’s adventures on the road home from London with his friend and mentor, the absent-minded parson Abraham Adams. The novel draws inspiration from various sources, in particular Cervantes’ Don Quixote, which is referred to in the original title page. Fielding’s work owes much of its humour to the techniques developed by Cervantes, and its subject-matter, the seemingly loose arrangement of events, digressions and the use of lower-class characters all identify influences from other picaresque works.
The impetus for the novel, as Fielding claims in the preface, is the establishment of a genre of writing “which I do not remember to have been hitherto attempted in our language”, defined as the “comic epic-poem in prose”: a work of prose fiction, epic in length and variety of incident and character, in the hypothetical spirit of Homer’s lost comic poem Margites. He dissociates his fiction from the scandal-memoirs by such authors as Richardson. From the first chapters of Joseph Andrews, Richardson and his contemporary Cibber are parodied mercilessly, as Fielding strongly objects to the moral and technical limitations of the popular literature of his day.
The novel begins with the narrator outlining the nature of the protagonist, who is the brother of Richardson’s Pamela and is of the same rustic parentage and dubious ancestry. At the age of ten he finds himself tending to animals as an apprentice to Sir Thomas Booby. It was in proving his worth as a horseman that he first catches the eye of Sir Thomas’s wife, Lady Booby, who employs him as her footman. After the death of Sir Thomas, Joseph finds that his Lady’s affections have redoubled as she offers herself to him in her chamber while on a trip to London. In a scene similar to many of Pamela’s refusals of Mr B. in Richardson’s novel, Lady Booby finds that Joseph’s Christian commitment to chastity before marriage is unwavering. After suffering the Lady’s fury, Joseph dispatches a letter to his sister very much typical of Pamela’s anguished missives in her own novel. The Lady calls him once again to her chamber and makes one last withering attempt at seduction before dismissing him from both his job and his lodgings.
The novel was well received by critics and there was an early stage adaptation of the first and fourth books, written by Samuel Jackson Pratt and performed on 20 April 1778 at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.
The original title page
CONTENTS
GENERAL INTRODUCTION.
NOTE TO GENERAL INTRODUCTION.
AUTHOR’S PREFACE.
BOOK I.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
The 1977 film adaptation
GENERAL INTRODUCTION.
Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding Page 5
