and naturally conclude they would not let
the Nymph escape so easily.--Now the Scene rises, the Colours begin to
glow and rise to the Life: _p._ 75. "_I found his Hand in my Bosom_, and
when my Fright let me know it, _I was ready to die; and I sigh'd, and
screamed, and fainted away_. And still he had his Arms about my Neck;
and Mrs. _Jervis_ was about my Feet, and upon my Coat. And all in a cold
clammy Sweat was I. _Pamela! Pamela!_ said Mrs. _Jervis_, as she tells
me since, O--h, and gave another Shriek, my poor _Pamela_ is dead for
certain!--And so, to be sure I was for a Time; _for I knew nothing more
of the Matter_, one Fit following another, till about three Hours after,
as it prov'd to be, I found myself in Bed, and Mrs. _Jervis_ sitting up
on one Side, with her Wrapper about her, and _Rachel_ on the other."
_Feeling of the Breasts, fainting, and dying away_, may, in your
Opinion, Sir, be Excitements to _Virtue_, but they are too VIRTUOUS a
Description in my Mind for any young untainted Mind to peruse.

Miss after this is ill, and when she had _blubber'd_, and cried three or
four Days, the Squire to bring her to herself, and allure her Fancy,
takes care to shew himself to her in all the Advantages of Dress and
Finery; _p._ 81. 'Yesterday he had a rich Suit of Cloaths brought home,
which they call a Birth-day Suit.' Here is the Contraste to _Pamela_'s
plain Neatness, he had found that her amiable Figure had caused fresh
Emotions in him, and consequently he imagined his must have the same
Effect on her. _p._ 81. 'He had these Cloaths come home, and he try'd
them on. And before he pull'd them off, he sent for me, when nobody else
was in the Parlor with him: _Pamela_, said he, you are so neat and so
nice in your own Dress, (Alack-a-day, I did'n't know I was!) that you
must be a Judge of ours. How are these Cloaths made? Do they fit me? I
am no Judge, said I, and please your Honour; but I think they look very
fine. His Waistcoat stood an End with Gold Lace, and he look'd very
grand.'

And at the same Time that he endeavours to charm her with his own
Person, he as artfully allures her with the most fulsome Flattery: _p._
83. 'Well, said he, you are an ungrateful Baggage; but I am thinking it
would be Pity, with _these soft Hands_, and that _lovely Skin_, (as he
called it, and took hold of my Hand) that you should again return to
hard Work, as you must, if you go to your Father's; and so _I would
advise her to take a H