e ADVENTURES of a VALET. Jan.

He A

uthor, but got fo little by it, contracted feveral fmall debts, Ang in danger of an arrest, he took a lodging within the verge of the court, ere he stayed till application had been ade to the board of greencloth, and notice had been fent him, that a warrant would be granted against him. was now reduced to defpair, and being refolved to dispatch himself, he with that defign fired a piftol at his head, but the ball only grazed and did not penetrate the skull. The noife however alarmed the family, and among the rest, a young lady, named Mrs. Love, who lodged in one pair of ftairs; by whofe care he was recovered. This lady confeffed her conceiving a love for him upon feeing him in that condition, but never would admit of any thing more than careffes; and as fhe was then the kept miftrefs of a foreign minifter, she got him a protection from one of them, who afterwards took him into his actual fervice as his valet; and tho' he C often afterwards faw Mrs. Love, and was indulged in many innocent freedoms by her, yet for fear of her being at laft tempted to fomething criminal by him, the changed her lodgings, and by a letter acquainted him, that tho' fhe had fied to a place where he could never find her, yet whatever fate her wretched body was doomed to, her heart fhould ever be entirely and only his.

all the ladies of her acquaintance. This of courfe put an end to his place in that lady's fervice, but as he was so much in his power the durft not refufe him a character, and thereby he got into the fervice of an alderman of the city, as his bookWhilft he was in this fervice, the daughkeeper and fervant without a livery. ter fell in love with him, on which the mother refolved to have him turned away, but his mafter was fo kind as to recommend him to another merchant in the ci

ty, as fecond in his compting-house, which place he was to enter upon as foon as his master was provided. In the interval, as he was returning late in the evenB ing from a message he had been sent on, a great noife in Bishopfgate-street called' him cross the way to fee what was the matter, and found it was a young officer caning an old man for accidentally taking the wall of him, whilst another flood with his fword drawn, threatning death Our valet flipping by him got hold of the to any one that should dare to interpofe.' other officer's fword, pulled it out of the fcabbard, and attacked and wounded him' who had his fword drawn, on which the other made his escape, the wounded officer was carried to the round-house, and the old gentleman was conducted home.

D

Our adventurer being now a real valet, in this character he went thro' feveral diverting fcenes, firft with one foreign minifter, and then with another, till at laft, for making too free with his mafter, he was turned away, and refufed a character. Being thus idle, he E went to Kendal houfe, to fee if he could hear of a place, and by a frange accident got into the fervice of lady Calm, a lady who lived in high character, tho' fhe had her chief fupport from a noble lord, who first debauched her, and then recommended her as a wife to a gentleman, his friend, during whofe life, as well as after his death, his lordship continued his intrigue with her; and before our valet had been long in her fervice as her butler, he was admitted fometimes to fupply the place of her lord.

BOOK IV.

At last our valet, now butler, grew jealous of his noble rival, and becaufe G his lady would not prefer him to the Jord from whom the had her chief fupport, he took an opportunity to let a lady vifiter into the room, when the lord and he were alone together, and in a Situation which expofed her intrigue to

city, and a fervant of his master's banker This adventure made great noise in the having been one of the mob, told every body who it was that had bebaved fo gallantly; and the old gentleman whofe life he had probably faved, hearing whofe fervant he was, fent him a handsome prefent in a bank note. This gallant behaviour, which would have been a recommenprejudice in the city, where they did not dation to him any where elfe, did him a want any fighting clerks. His intended new master sent his excufe for not taking him into his fervice, with a fmall present for the difappointment; and he found he could get no other place in the city, fo he got into the fervice of the celebrated Mifs lady of fortune, who had in a manner Air at the court end of the town, a young openly an intrigue with Sir James Lofty, and foon after a fecret one with Mr. Seewell; and by our valet's management, a third with a foreign minister; but at laft he loft this place by making himself an attack upon his lady.

BOOK V.

places faved fuch a fum as might fupport
Our valet having by this and his former
him like a gentleman for fome months,
he fet up in that character, in which he
fell into a fuccefsful intrigue with Mrs.
Eafe, a most rapacious courtisan, who
nevertheless preserved her character, be-

ing

1752.

Cicero's excellent Letter to his Son Marcus.

ing the natural daughter of two people of
the first fashion, who fupported her ex-
travagance, left the thould reveal the fecret
of her parentage. After quarrelling with
this lady, he was one day picked up in
the park by Mrs. Scheme, with whom he
cohabited for fome weeks. This was a
widow lady, who in her husband's life- A
time had, with his connivance, had many
intrigues, by which she had supported both
his extravagance and her own; but he
dying a bankrupt, he was now support-
ed by her lovers and her wits.

After his intrigue with this lady was at
an end, and his ftock of ready money
nearly fo, he was one morning paffing a
B

very melancholy half hour in the park,
mufing on the ruined state of his finances,
when this lady, who was walking with
two others, called to him, more than
once : Hé at laft went up to her, and was
fo surprised to fee, that one of her com-
panions was his old friend and acquaint-
ance Mrs. Love, that he funk to the
ground, but prefently recovered, and at C
Mrs. Love's defire, walked out with them
to Mrs. Scheme's, where the latter in-
formed him, that Mrs. Love was the na-
tural daughter of Mr. Sedate, a rich mer-
chant in the city, by a favourite miftrefs
who then lived with him; but that the
having made one falfe ftep in her youth,
he never would hear of her afterwards,
till then that he was upon his death-bed,
when the mother had prevailed on him to
fend in fearch of her, and fhe was that
afternoon to be received as his child.

D.

E

Our valet waited on the ladies in the afternoon to Mr. Sedate's door, and was there taking his leave, when the fervant who opened the door, after ftaring ftedfaftly in his face, begged him to walk in, till he had fpoke a word to his mafter. Before the fervant returned, Mrs. Love came down, and told him with tranfport, that the had received at once a pardon and a fortune from her father, the whole of which fhould be his, if he would fubmit to honour a prostitute with his hand lawfully; he prefently accepted the propofal, F and was just going to feal his acceptance with a falute, when the fervant returned, and faid, Sir, I could not fpeak to my mafter till the lady retired; but I have now reminded him of an obligation he had to you, and he defires to fee you. This fervant was the perfon who delivered him the bank-note from the old gentleman whom he had refcued from the G two officers in the city, and the old gentleman was this very Mr. Sedate. The fervant knew him again as foon as he faw him, and as his mafter had often before employed people to find him out, he ftopt

29

him and told his mafter, that chance had brought him to the door; whereupon the old man defired to fee him; and Mrs. Love attended him up ftairs, in order to inform her father of many other worthy actions the knew of him; but how was fhe furprised, when the faw her father at fight of him faint away, and her mother in a condition very little better. And as foon as they recovered, fhe was ftill more furprised, by hearing them both declare him her brother and their fon. The father died foon after, and left his whole fortune between them, only allowing a handsome fettlement for their mother, with whom they live in great harmony as brother and fifter, bleffing the fate that had made them the prefervers of one another, and in the extremes of mutual fondness had faved them from an unknown incest.

We fhall make no remarks upon this piece, but must from hence take occasion to defire our novelifts to be a little more careful of what the French call la vrayfemblance; for improbabilities are shocking to those who refiect at all upon what they read.

The noble and juft Sentiments expreffed in the tavo following LETTERS, may, we hope be of fome Ufe to the rifing Generation, as they may ferve to caution fome, and to reclaim athers, who are not already too far funk in Luxury and Vice.

CICERO to bis Son MARCUS *, to reclaim bim from bis loofe course of LIFE.

ANI think, O Marcus, thy vicious

Ccourfe of life could offer to eclipfe

my glory? I would queftion even the oracles of truth in this cafe, for nothing is more difficult than to make a man believe what he does not like: Yet am I obliged to give credit to my fenfes. I fee thee daily involved in all kinds of luxury, and hear thee as often difcourfing or nothing but vanity. Ill fortune had no other way to attack me. My country owes its fafety to me, and both the fenate and people have ftiled me their Preferver. I have furmounted the meannefs of my birth, and baffled all the attempts of envy, malice, pride and calumny against me. Nothing but the vagaries of Marcus could render me unhappy. Poor unfortunate Cicero! reduced to that ftate by the difobedience of a child, which thy enemies thou alone robbest me of my honour, obcould not bring thee to. Thou, Marcus, fcureft my virtue, and cloggeft the wings of my fame. Upon what a weak foundation have I founded my hopes? Upon one, who, inftead of ftriking in with me towards the acquiring of glory, will, if

The fame, to whom this celebrated heathen directs his excellent book De Officiis.

he

30

Another Letter of Cicero to his Son Marcus.

he does not reform, leave to pofterity the
character of a libertine; and whereas he
might inherit the renown due to my la-
bours, will deprive his father of all con-
teut, and himself of all efteem. But it
is yet time, O my fon, both to recant thy
errors, and return to thy studies. By one,
thou wilt restore my quiet; and by the A
other, enrich thy felf. It is never too late
to learn, I have known a man of an
hundred years old thirst after inftruction;
nay, all wife men will hearken to their
friends, even when they are dying. Caft
off then that yoke which vice has put on
thee, and whereby thy mind is depraved,
thy fenfes ftupified, thy reputation loft,
and mine obfcuted. Confider thefe worldly
pleasures as Syrens, that decoy thee to
shy ruin, and which are really nothing
hut vain, vile, frail, fhort-lived things,
fubject to a thousand accidents, and whofe
end is only torment and repentance. Yet
all this while I do not speak against those
diverfions that unbend the mind. A bow
always bent is foon broken, and the im- C
becillity of our nature requires fome re-
creation. I blame only incontinence,
luxury, and a fuperfluous ufe of meat and
drink. No vice is more abominable than
intemperance, from whence all other vices
flow: Yet to those thou haft raised altars;
to these thou payeft thy vows. I wonder
thou doft not fly the common fociety of D.
mankind, to get rid of their continual re-
proaches. Thou art either not a man,
or not my fon. Drunkenness has tranf-
formed thee, and, like that of Alexander
the Great, has tarnished all thy glory.
The delights of Capua enervated the
prowess of Hannibal.'" Whilft thou art
drunk, O Marcus, thy head turns round,
thy tongue faulters, thy eyes deceive thee, E
thy feet fail thee, and thy ftomach offends
thee. Wherefore, if thou art not altoge-
ther become stupid, thou must needs be
fenfible thy felf of the inconveniencies of
this vice. My cheeks burn with shame,
while I reprove thee for these enormities,
and my mind is under apprehenfions of
contaminating itself by the bare naming
them. Believe me, Marcus, vice has got
the afcendant over thy reafon, and will
not fuffer thee to be fenfible of thy folly.
It will not permit thee to look thro' the
thick fogs that envelope thy brain, and
conceals its own deformity from thee. It
keeps thee from difcerning the fplendor of
virtue, and the brightness of thy race.
If thou couldft but view the beauties of
virtue, I am confident thou wouldst foon
be in love with her. No heart can be
fo hardened, but must be affected by her
charms. The wide world cannot fhew
any thing more amiable. She is praise to

G

Jan,

The

herfelf; and without her, perfection would
be nothing. She gains us, by her autho-
rity, even the love of our enemies.
fun once ftopped his course to admire her,
Alfo death itself, which nothing else can
conquer, and which buries every thing in
oblivion, yet yields to her, and submits
to that immortality which is only acquired
by her. Tell me, I befeech thee, my fon,
what is become of all the ancient Greek
magnificence in building? Is it not de-
voured by time? Yet the works of virtue
live, and will do fo to all eternity. Both
the names and actions of virtuous perfons
will endure the utmost test of time, and,
thro' all the endless revolutions of ages,
flourish. He need not to fear the horrors
of death, O Marcus, who can be fure to
out-live the bounds of life by his virtue :
Whilft thou, if thou continueft in this
fenfuality of thine, as thou haft lived un-
regarded, wilt die unlamented, and rot
in the grave unremembred: Or if thou
fhouldft leave any name behind thee, it
will be devoted to infamy, than which it
were far better to have been condemned
to oblivion. That is but a foolish opinion
which fome entertain, and which I daily
reflect upon with contempt and disdain,
that our happiness ends with our lives,
and our glory ceafes with our deaths.
Those men know not, that true life be-
gins at the grave, and fprings from the
very bofom of death. Our fouls are Phoe
nix's, which revive from our own ashes.
Then are our names eternized; then
have envy and malice no more power to
obfcure our merits, or to difpute our title
with us to fame. The privileges of our
fouls would be nothing, if they were fub-
ject to the corruption of the body. Now,
fon Marcus, if thy obftinacy will not
give thee leave to, lay hold on these in-
ftructions; if thou wilt ftill continue thy
converfe with brutes, who have no other
fenfe than their lufts: If, in a word, thou
wilt perfift to forfeit both mine and thy
own reputation by thy ill courfes, I have
no abfolute authority over thy will, I can
only fatisfy myself in that I have thus far
opposed thy vicious inclinations. Farewel.

Another LETTER of CICERO, to his Son
MARCUS, upon the same Subject; being
a Sequel of the former.

WHA

HATI wrote to you lately, I do not think fufficient to acquit myfelf, and therefore fend you this fecond letter. I must once more earnestly conjure thee, fon Marcus, to forfake the dif folute courfe of life thou haft taken up, which if thou wilt not do for the fake of thy own reputation, do at least for that of mine, which I have acquired not fo much

1752. A CASE in Affeffments to the POOR-RATE.

much by the favour of fortune, as by pure merit. Do not endeavour to rob thy father of that happiness, which he has been all his life labouring after. But if nature has not made thee capable of knowing either thy honour, or thy intereft, she could not, fure, but have allowed thee a fenfe of that duty, which all chil-A dren owe their parents. That alone, one would think, ought to excite in thee an inclination to virtue, which thou knoweft I have not only long defired, but also commanded. Not to obey thy father, is mere madness; not to love him, extreme impiety; but to trample on his fame is worfe than parricide. Neither wit nor words are able to exprefs how commendable and neceffary a thing obedience to a parent is. The utmost extent of time owns itself at a lofs to reward fuch children as are dutiful. I will give thee fome examples, Marcus, of fuch fons as with the hazard of their own, have faved their fathers lives.

Manlius Torquatus, the first that gave the name to that famous family, to free his father of an accusation before the tribune of the people, went armed and alone to the tribune's house, and by a generous force compelled that magiftrate to defift from hearkening to any farther profecution. Scipio Africanus had fcarce attained the years of manhood, when he rescued his father from out of

B

D

31

by his dishonest life, robs me both of my
quiet and reputation, and is in danger of
poifoning the commonwealth to boot.
Whilft my paternal affection, which can
neither be altered by my ambition, nor
my honour, is only anxious of thy fafety
and long life; I must confefs, it gives me
world will fay of me for taking no more
fome uneafinefs, when I confider what the
care of thy education. I am sensible they
will accufe my indulgence of nourishing
thy propensity to vice. But then, when
I can make it appear, as it is well known
I can, that the caufe is in thy perverfe
nature, and neither in my will nor power,
that accufation will foon vanish. Truly,
I cannot but wonder, that being of hu-
man kind, thou should't be infenfible to
all the calls of emulation, and the re-
proaches of infamy. But I foon change
my mind, when I conclude, that one that
could prove ungrateful to him, whom he
owes his being to, will eafily be fo to
himself. One would think the many ob-
moved thee as my friend, if not as my
ligations I have laid upon thee might have
fon; but I find fortune, to afflict me yet
the more fenfibly, has brought that under
the denomination of certainty, which I
thought impoffible. But fince thy extra-
vagant obftinacy despises my fincere good-
will, fince my words, that have all along
had fo great applaufe in the world, are
but thrown away upon thee, I will hence-
forward renounce thee for my fon, or
look upon thee only as an excrement,
which, tho' it be a part of me, yet can I
live without it. Farewel.

the hands of Hannibal, to whom, being grievously wounded, he had become a prey. Neither his unexperienced youth, nor the misfortunes of the day, could hinder the vehemence of his virtue and affection from doing an act that has got him more renown than all his victories afterwards. Caius Flaminius, while tribune of the people, published a law to E divide the conquered lands in Gallia : The fenate opposed it, first with good words, then with threats, and at length with an army; but all in vain, till at last upon his father's bare request only, he abandoned his refolution, and submitted to authority. I could give thee other examples, Marcus, of fons that ventured their all to fecure their father's fafety; whilft thou, on the contrary, wilt not forego a few brutal delights to favour my good name, the lofs of which is worse to me than death. I might, and that with reason, imitate thofe parents, who have proved tyrants to their children; fuch as Junius Brutus, Torquatus, and not long fince Aulus Fulvius, who, rather than G endure their difobedient iffue, let out the denegerate blood. Is it not better to lop off the contagious member, than fuffer it to spread its venom? With much greater reafon might I rid myself of a child, who,

To the AUTHOR of the LONDON
MAGAZINE.

SIR,

S the following thoughts are commu

A nicated with a view to the publick good, I make no doubt but that they will be found in your next Magazine.

From the late orders directed by the Hon. houfe of commons to the overfeers throughout the kingdom, requiring their Faccounts for the laft 4 years, I have the pleasure to conclude, that we are like to be favoured with fome new regulations with regard to our laws relating to the poor. Whenever the legiflature shall think fit to apply itself to this work, the nation, I hope, will reap the benefit of it in many respects; in particular, I promise myself, from the wisdom and equity of parliament, that idleness and indolence will be no more encouraged in those who pay the rates, than in those who receive them. What was intended by stat. 17. Geo, II. our governors themselves beft

་

know;

32

A Boy restor❜d to Sight. by ELECTRICITY.

know; it seems to me, however, fuffici-
ently apparent, that it was defigned to
prevent frauds in elections by boroughs;
most certainly it was not defigned to coun-
tenance injuftice in parishes. To this
ap-
purpose, nevertheless, I have feen
plied. I will venture to affirm this, and
let the following example juftify the af- A

fertion.

C

A person has an estate, which he keeps in hand, but is too niggardly to manure ; or, if it is let out at a rack rent, is too negligent or lazy to bind his tenant to covenants for dreffing, or to fee the execution of them. Of course the land is impoverished, and the rent continually decreases. The landlord now finding B himself affeffed to the poor-rate for more pounds than he receives from his tenant, (tho' the affeffment be no greater than has been made time out of mind) appeals to the quarter feffions. The decifion there is frequently in favour of fuch appellant ; he is relieved from bearing his accustomed and just proportion of the common burden, which, of confequence, falls upon the fhoulders of his neighbours. Thus induftry is taxed for the benefit of floth, the friends of the publick, the improvers of lands, instead of being encouraged become fufferers; and the enemies of their country, the impoverishers of them, are fupported and rewarded. Let me ask now of any unprejudiced, reasonable man, if this manner of proceeding can by any means be reconciled with equity or good policy? And if it be not an unpardonable reflection both upon the wisdom and juftice of the houses of parliament, to put fuch an interpretation upon any of their acts, as must be attended with confequences fo mifchievous to the state, and E fo injurious to private perfons? On fuch an interpretation, however, as has beenthewn, the determinations of the feffions are often founded, and the poor, diligent hufbandman has the mortification to be triumphed over by the fluggard, to be oppreffed with an additional load of taxes, to be ftill further faddled with cofts of

D

fuit; and, what is fcarcely lefs provoking F
than all the reft, to bear the faucy abuse
of hired infolence, for daring to oppose a
conftruction, which (as it encreases dif-
putes) the lawyers find their account in.

On the whole, as matters are now managed, we are fubject to a grievance, which calls aloud for parliamentary redrefs; for furely, the ruin of our lands, to which it plainly tends, is no trifling confideration. I flatter myself, therefore, that it is no very great prefumption to hope, that a new ftatute will refcue the prefent from fuch monstrous perversion ;

Jan.

that all decifions hitherto made, and owing to fuch perverfion, will be declared null and void, and all future ones of the. fame kind effectually prevented-in short, that the justices will only be impowered to relieve thofe, whofe eftates are funk by unavoidable accidents, but that where they have been impaired thro' the fault of the proprietors of them, they only will be fubjected to fuffer, as in all reafon and juftice they ought, the inconveniences occafioned by their own avarice or neglect. Your conftant reader,

TRIPTOLEMUS.

Extract of a LETTER from Mr. FLOYER, Surgeon at Dorchefter, to Dr. BENT, a Phyfician at Exeter.

HAVE lately had two or three op

portunities of trying the effects of electricity on paralytick perfons with fuccefs. What most of all tends to prove its good effect on the human body, is the following cafe *.

A boy of about 7 years old was taken blind suddenly in both eyes, without any previous fever, pains of the head, or any other indifpofition of body, which one might reasonably imagine to be the caufe of his blindness. About 3 or 4 days after he had loft his fight, he was brought to me for my advice. Upon infpecting his eyes, I found the pupil of each fo entirely dilated, that I could not discover of what colour the iris was, (not the leaft verge of it to be seen) but the cornea transparent, appearing one continued black fpot. I asked his father if he ever took notice of what colour his eyes were before he loft his fight? He told me they were of a remarkable lightgrey colour. Upon fhutting his eye-lids, and rubbing them a confiderable while, and then expofing them fuddenly to the fun-beams, could not perceive the leaft degree of contraction in the circular fibres of the iris, and the pupils remaining the fame whether the eyes were open or fhut, whether in the dark or light; neither could he perceive any difference when an opaque body was interpofed between his eyes and the light of the fun, and when there was not; in fhort, he was as blind as if he had had his eyes cut out. I told his parents, it was my opinion he never would fee again as long as he lived, for there was feldom or never a cure for fuch diforders of the eyes. Taking the cafe to be a perfect gutta ferena in both eyes, occafioned (as it is generally imagined) by fome obftructions in the optick nerve, and confequently paralytick, I determined with myself to try the effects of the electrical hock

* Which was laid before the Royal Society at their last meeting,

upon