THE HISTORY OF Jack Connor, Now Conyers.



But not to treat my Subject as in Jest,
(Yet may not Truth in laughing Guise be drest?
As Masters fondly sooth the Boys to read,
With Cakes and Sweetmeats) let us now proceed
With graver Air, our serious Theme pursue,
And yet preserve our Moral full in View.

LONDON: Printed for W. JOHNSTON, at the Golden Ball, in St. Paul's Church-Yard.


THE HISTORY OF Jack Connor, now Conyers.


He parted frowning from me, as if Ruin
Leap'd from his Eyes.

SOME few Days pass'd in the common Way, when Mr. Sang­froid entered, and with Plea­sure told Conyers, he had pro­vided him a good Place.— ‘My Lord Bishop of —, said he, wants just such an one as you to transcribe his Works, and keep some Accounts.’Conyers, without Hesitation, accepted the Offer, and next Morning was [Page 4] presented to the Bishop, and immediately entered on his Office.

HIS Lordship was a great Writer; but his Works were intended for the Use of Posterity, having never published but a Thanksgiving Sermon, and one on the 30th of January by Order of the House of Lords. His Tracts were very voluminous, but all essential, and of the utmost Consequence to Mankind. His Treatise on the Use and Abuse of Surplices and Lawn Sleeves was filled with the profoundest Erudition.— His Discourse on Pews, Cushions, and Mats, in Churches, was extremely well handled; but the Postscript on the Crime of sleeping in those Places, was so artfully worded, that you felt an Example in yourself. —His Letter to the Inhabitants of the Parish of — clearly demonstrated the Absurdity of a Steeple without Bells.—His Apology and Vindication of Murder, Adultery, and Forni­cation, proving, mathematically, that the Nature and Name of these Crimes were en­tirely changed by Circumstance, Time, and Place, was a most learned and elaborate Performance; but his favourite Work was his History and Doctrine of Tithes, which he demonstrated to be an Essential of True Re­ligion.

[Page 5]HIS Lordship, at different Times, was so good as fully to explain these Subjects to Conyers, who in three Months had transcribed the Treatise on Surplices, and had just began the last-mentioned Work. He had full Employment, but was not extremely pleased with the Nature of it, for his Taste was so vitiated, that he found no Charms in what he did not understand.

THE Bishop kept a plentiful Table, where his Clergy were welcome, except the poorer Sort, to whom he made ample Amends for the Distinction by small Pre­sents and large Promises. He was a Man of Virtue, and religiously kept his Word, when his Memory, which was none of the best, fail'd him not. So weak was he in that Quarter, that he remembered and for­got his Promise to a poor Curate ten dif­ferent Times, and as often was angry with himself. On these Occasions he used to say, ‘Well, God help me! I find I am grown old; my Faculties can't last for ever;— The Lord gave, and the Lord ta­keth away.—Sometimes indeed his Me­mory was very sharp, for if one, or ten of his Clergy, were sick, he never failed a daily Enquiry after their Health; and when any died, he never suffered the Li­ving to lapse. He could not bear Contra­diction, [Page 6] and no Doubt his Dependants were careful not to offend in that Article.—He did not like Money, but he passionately lov'd it.

JACK did not much approve of his Si­tuation. He lived well, but he plainly saw he had no great Prospect of a future Fortune, and looked on himself as Gil Blas when with the Archbishop, which deter­mined him to be soon convinced of what he had to depend on. He had Thoughts of writing a modest and moving Letter to his Lordship; but then he remembered, That 'a Verse may catch him, who a Sermon flies; so resolved to write a Stanza or two, and leave it on my Lord's Desk next Morning. Accordingly he sat down and wrote,

Tho' ev'ry Virtue fills my Heart,
Tho' Modesty o'er-spreads my Face,
What are their Worth, except some Art
Can raise these Virtues into Place.
Yet tho' I can't myself commend,
Kind Fate may still relieve my Want,
And, as dull Sermons always end,
Heaven of it's gracious Mercy grant!

[Page 7]MY LORD mounted to his Study as usual, and found the Scrowl, which he carefully read, and as carefully put into his Pocket.—Family Prayers and Breakfast being ended, Jack was ordered to attend him.— ‘Good-morrow, Mr. Conyers, said his Lordship, I am extremely concerned that my Understanding did not discover your Worth and Genius before this Morn­ing. They are so uncommon, they ought to be rewarded.’Jack applauded himself for his lucky Thought, but my Lord proceeded — ‘I have a Paper in my Hand, on which you will permit my making a few Remarks. I believe it is intended for Poetry, which at the best, is an idle unprofitable Study; I shall not speak of the Rhime, but of the Subject. — Your first Line is false, for as you want Prudence, you cannot have every Virtue.—Your second is not Fact, for I never saw you blush in my Life.—Oh— I ask your Pardon, you blush now in­deed.—As to the Worth of your Virtues and Modesty, I am afraid you will find it of little or no Value, and your Art must be extraordinary, if you think to impose on me. — But it seems you want a Place. — I shall soon put you into the High-road to Preferment.—Your Second Stanza [Page 8] is most admirable. — You can't Praise yourself, poor Gentleman! although you tell us of your Virtue and Modesty.— This indeed is the Height of Modesty! Then, like a true Heathen, you believe in Fate. — If so, pray Mr. John take care of your Fate.—Here you complain bitterly of Want. Can any Man be said to want, who has three good Meals a Day?— Now comes the best of all.— You are one of those fine Gentlemen who can't play the Fool but they must bring in the Church. You abuse Sermons.— Who make Sermons but the Clergy?— and the Clergy make the Church. These Matters, Mr. John, ought to be held in Reverence by all Men, much more by such as you.'— 'I most humbly beseech your Lordship, said Jack, to —' 'Pray Sir, spare me, said my Lord, for I have but a few Words more to say.—You were so good as to give me a Bit of Poetry, and, in Return, permit me to give you a Bit of Prose.—He then rung his Bell, and giving him a Paper pro­ceeded.—‘Here is, Mr. John Conyers, some of my own Composition, and to shew you it is of some Value, pray tack these ten Guineas to it.—So now, Mr. John Conyers, you are a Free-Man, and have [Page 9] my Consent to get what Place you please.’ —My Lord's Gentleman then entered the Chamber.—Lewis, said my Lord, here is Mr. John, who has given me such a Lecture on his Modesty, that convinces me is the most impudent Fellow breath­ing: So, bid the Porter open the Door and let him out. Such Modesty ought to be seen in the World.’Jack was ex­tremely mortified, and attempted to speak, but Lewis shoulder'd him out of the Room. Finding he could have no Remedy, he bundled up his little Effects, quitted the House, and soon visited Mr. Sangfroid, to whom he told his Story.

‘THIS Accident, said his Friend, gives me little Concern, for I believe his Lord­ship would never have provided for you as you deserve; but, if you will wear a Livery, I can get you into Sir Peter Shallow's Service To-morrow. He is a Member of Parliament, and perhaps, in Time, may procure you an Employ­ment.'—'It is worth the Trial, said Conyers, and a Livery shall be no Ob­jection.’—Next Day Jack attended Sir Peter, and received the Badge of Office; but, by the Advice of his Friend, he took the Name of Constant.


There, Affectation, with a sickly Mein,
Shows in her Cheeks the Roses of Eighteen,
Practis'd to lisp, and hang the Head aside,
Faints into Airs and languishes with Pride,
On the rich Quilt sinks with becoming Woe,
Wrapt in a Gown, for sickness, and for show.
The Fair-ones feel such Maladies as these,
When each new Night-dress gives a new Disease.
POPE'S Rape of the Lock.

SIR PETER SHALLOW was a Gentleman of large Fortune, but more remarkable for his easy, quiet Temper, than strong Judgment. His Lady had somewhat of the opposite Character, and, as her Under­standing informed her Sir Peter had but a small Share, she took the accustomed Pri­viledge of, sometimes, imposing on it, and indeed his great Fondness gave her frequent Opportunities.—Her Ladyship had a very delicate Constitution, and was afflicted with the Spleen and Vapours to such a Degree, that she has sometimes been silent for ten [Page 11] Minutes, then has burst out into La­mentations and Tears, then into violent Laughter, and end in a Swoon.—Doctor Nostrum constantly attended; but one Even­ing when he had finished above, Sir John, got him to taste some Cape Wine, and give some Account of her Ladyship's Disorder. —‘Sir John, said the Doctor, who was a dry Joker, here is my Service to you.— Upon my Word very good Wine—very good Wine indeed, Sir. But—you were saying something of that there Disorder. —Why—to be sure, your Hypochondriac and Hysteric Disorders are troublesome,— very troublesome, and tedious, but seem, I may say, to be more so to the Husband or Wife, or Attendants, than to the Pa­tient and Physician. I think I have had these Disorders, in a peculiar Manner under my Care, for these Thirty or Thir­ty-two Years last past; and I think I may say, that I understand them; that is, I know how to treat them properly.— There is no certain Rule to go by, for,— for as a skilful Mariner must find out the Trim of his Ship; so I say a skilful Phy­sician must find out the Temper of his Patient. — If I prescribe a China Jarr, when the Malady is fix'd on a Japan Cabinet, I shall do Wrong,—be all out, [Page 12] and perchance may double the Disorder upon me.’

‘I OWN, Doctor, said Sir Peter, I am no Judge of these Matters, but for my Blood, I cannot conceive what Jarrs or Cabinets have to do in the Affair'—O Lord, Sir Peter, cry'd the Doctor — but here's my best Respects.—In Truth it has a charming Flavour!—but, as you were saying,—or—as I was saying.—To explain this Phoenomenon, I shall not call in the Ancients, for they were igno­rant, very ignorant of sundry modern Ailments, but account, that is, Reason upon them, on the Principles of the mo­dern Philosophy. — Hem — hem — The Disorder is of the Feminine Gender. — When it attacks a Masculine Figure, it then becomes of the doubtful.— It is termed, by Pre-eminence, Vapour, from its ascending Quality; for it rises (you'll please to observe, Sir) in the Heart by the too quick Viberation of the Blood, and mounts directly to the Brain.—Thus —when an Object is placed before a Lady in such a Point of Light, that the Rays of her Eyes center, and form a Focus upon it, the Effect is surprizing.— The Object indeed remains sound and entire, but her Heart burns for it.[Page 13] When the Heart Strings are untuned, no Wonder that the Voice is all Discord.— A Diamond Solitair—A Gilt Chariot—Fine Dresden China —An Indian Skreen — and the like, cause such a Fluttering of the animal Spirits, and raise such a longing for possessing them, that clearly demon­strates Sir Isaac's Doctrine of Attraction and Vision.—Contrary Principles will sometimes produce the same dreadful Effects—When a Lady delights in the innocent Amusement of PLAY, and has what they call, an ill Run, it undoubt­edly will over-heat the Blood, and sour the Temper,— but I say—when she is not in a Condition to discharge such honourable Debts, the whole Mass is on a Ferment, and frequently produces Con­sequences very fatal to the Repose of the Family.’

‘WOULD to Heaven, said Sir Peter, it was the Case of my dear Creature, I then could soon apply the Remedy.'—Why truly, Sir Peter, replyed the Doctor, two or three hundred Guineas make won­derful Alterations. I would advise you, Sir Peter, to see how my Prescriptions will operate for a Day or two.—If the Disorder don't take a Turn in that Time, why, apply your's.—But, here's [Page 14] my good Lady's better Health.—I pro­fess it is a most delicious Cordial! — It warms my Heart.' — 'I fancy, Doctor, said Sir Peter, this Wine would be very proper for my dear Girl.—It would raise her Spirits.—'Raise her Spirits, cryed the Doctor, why, it is their being too high that causes the Disorder.—Besides—Be­sides—All dulciferous Fluids are bad.— Acid is her proper Regimen, and tho' it is true, there is an Acidity in all Sweets; it is not of the right Sort—Your right genuine Sour, is the surest Remedy.—I have ordered the Juice of the Crab Apple to be taken internally, and the fungous Matter to be apply'd, Plaister-ways, to the Shoulders and Back, with great Suc­cess.—I was once sent for to a rich Car­penter's in Southwark, whose Wife was suddenly seiz'd with the Vapours.—The poor Woman was as extremely ill as any Lady of the first Quality.—So, Sir,—as I was saying,—I was going to order her the Apples, but the Season not affording any, and her Case being very desperate, I directed her Husband to take a slender Twig of that there Tree of about three Foot long, and apply the same in so smart a Manner to the Shoulders, that the Part might be thoroughly warmed, [Page 15] and the Pores so opened, as at once to draw, and suffer the malignant Effluvia to evaporate with Ease.—Next Morning, Sir, I visited my Patient, but, to my very great Surprize, I found her chear­fully sitting by the Kitchen Fire, darning her Husband's Stockings.—The Fellow was an ungrateful Dog — for he never employed me since.—I shall not, Sir Pe­ter, take up more of your Time at pre­sent, but refer you to a small Folio on that Subject, which I have now ready for the Press,—This one Glass and no more.—Amongst a Variety of Observa­tions, one is pretty general.—In all the Practice and Experience I have had, I never knew a Lady subject to Spleen or Vapours, who was bless'd with a surly ill-natur'd Husband.—In Russia the Dis­order is unknown, otherwise the Great Klincosky, and the celebrated Baroniwisky, would have taken some Notice of it; but you frequently meet with the Use and Efficacy of the Crab Tree, and find it in most of their Prescriptions, which, per­haps, is given by way of Prevention.— But my Hour is come for a Consultati­on,—so—Sir Peter, your most obedient and most faithful humble Servant.’

[Page 16]POOR Sir Peter was greatly edified by the Doctor's learned Dissertation, but had not Judgment enough to take his Advice; for, with the Impatience of a Lover, he flew to my Lady's Apartment, and finding her somewhat composed, tho' extremely feeble, he ventured to mention, ‘That perhaps she might want some little Ne­cessaries he was unacquainted of, and intreated her Acceptance of Three Hun­dred Guineas.’ — He threw the Money on the Table; but it was astonishing to observe, how quickly the Remedy opera­ted.—Her Face glowed, Vermillion spread her Cheeks, she smil'd heavenly, and, at last, most tenderly embracing her dear Sir Peter, she sunk into his Arms, and every Symptom of the Malady vanished.


For as a Pythagorean Soul
Runs thro' all Beasts, and Fish and Fowl,
And has a Smack of ev'ry one;
So Love does, and has ever done;
And therefore, tho' 'tis ne'er so fond,
Takes strangely to the Vagabond:
'Tis but an Ague that's reverst,
Whose hot-Fit takes the Patient first;
That after burns with Cold as much
As Ice in Greenland does the Touch.

THE Servants had persuaded Jack to be a Member, and pay Quarteridge to a Society of Footmen, which they called a Parliament. This Convocation regulated diverse weighty Matters, and raised a Fund for the Maintenance of their Brethren out of Place. The Members took the Titles of their respective Masters, and spoke and acted so near their Characters, that it might be termed a Saturnalia. Jack was but too punctual a Visiter. If he improved not in his Manners by such Company, he [Page 18] thought, at least, that he was well di­verted.

THE Constitution of this motly Synod, with their Conduct and Resolutions, must be postponed to another Chapter, that the Chain of this History may not be broken.

WAS our Hero intitled to an Estate, his Age would permit him to enjoy it.—His Complexion, his Manner, his Voice, but above all, his generous good-humoured Disposition, could not escape the piercing Eyes of Mrs. Susanna Pinup. This Lady acted in the humble Station of Waiting-Woman to Lady Shallow. From her Know­ledge of sundry domestick Secrets, she had great Power in the Family, and, as the Servants phrase it, had feathered her Nest. Her great Sagacity not only discovered Charms in the Person of Mr. John Constant, but that he had Money likewise. The Union of such Perfections, merited her tenderest Regard, to which, she thought, if her own were added, the System of Happiness would be compleat.

WITH these Views Mrs. Pinup began to notice our Jack in a particular Manner. She shewed him every Civility; she ho­noured him frequently with her Conver­sation, and was so intimate and gracious, that he often drank Tea in her Chamber. [Page 19] Such a manifest Partiality drew on her the Resentment and scandalous Tongues of the other Servants; but, from her exalted Seat, she looked down with Contempt on the vulgar Wretches.—Mr. Buffett, the Butler, seemed most concerned, and, with a jaun­dic'd Eye, beheld this growing Passion, so fatal to his Hopes. This Gentleman had long sighed for Mrs. Pinup, and made sun­dry Libations of Pints of Sack, and other choice Wines, on the Shrine of her Beauty. His Project was as extensive as it was am­bitious. He judged, that could he ob­tain the Heart of this Lady, the cheating the Family in every Branch, from the Cellar, upwards, would centre in his own Pocket. This was a Loss his Philosophy was not Proof against, and made him meditate dire Revenge.

Mrs. PINUP was so fond of Jack, and so secure of her darling Scheme, that she omitted some Essentials in bringing it to bear; for one Evening, when Protestations and Vows were plentifully bestowed on each other, and fervent Kisses and Em­braces given, and returned with mutual Ardour, the World and all its idle Ceremo­nies, were forgotten, and equal Happiness cemented their Hearts without the Assist­ance of any Priest, except that of Love.

[Page 20]MATTERS were thus conducted for some Time; but Mrs. Pinup had praised Jack so much to Miss Shallow, that she longed to converse with him, and Pinup's Cham­ber gave her frequent Opportunities. Miss Shallow was Sister to Sir Peter, and had a Fortune of Ten Thousand Pounds. Her Education had been none of the best, and her Person was of that Sort, that a Man passes by without noticing. However, Jack's Vanity was strangely up, and Ten Thousand Pounds put a Million of Schemes into his Head, and his waking and sleep­ing Dreams were filled with Equipage and Splendor.—With some Difficulty and weighty Reasons, he persuaded Pinup to assist him, and Miss Shallow seemed no-ways averse to his Caresses and Proposal, tho' the was actu­ally engaged to 'Squire Hunt, and the Mar­riage Writings drawn. In short, nothing was wanting to compleat this Affair but a convenient Opportunity, which would soon have happened, had not adverse Fate, in the Shape of Mr. Buffett, maliciously in­terpos'd.

JEALOUSY, Envy, Interest and Revenge, are powerful separate, but make strange Havock when united. Buffett had them all. He had never ceas'd watching the Motions of Mrs. Pinup; and his Disco­veries [Page 21] were such, that they added to his Pain; but, when he found Miss Shallow was of the Party, Revenge opened an am­ple Field.

SIR Peter, as I've before observed, was not the brightest Genius in England; but, in Recompence, Nature had indulged him with a large Share of Pride, (that Vice of little Minds!) with which he sometimes imposed himself on the World as a Man of Consequence and great Importance.— Mr. Buffett knew his ruling Passion, and applied to it. On the first Notice, the Knight stormed and swelled with Rage; but the Butler moderated his Anger, and persuaded him into Patience, until he should convince him of the Truth.—Next Evening the Lovers met; but the artful Buffett had so contrived, that Sir Peter ab­ruptly entered, and caught the unguarded Pair in their innocent Embraces, and Mrs. Pinup in the Midst of a Discourse on Con­stancy.—‘Fine Doings in my House, cryed Sir Peter, — But I'll spoil your Sport, you impudent Son of a W—re.’— He ran directly at Jack, but Love and Miss Shallow averted the Blow, and gave him an Opportunity of slipping out of the Room. His Retreat was so precipitate, that he did not observe the Butler list'ning [Page 22] on the Stair-head, but drove against his Breast with such Force, that poor Mr. Buffett was hurried down a little improperly, for his Head went foremost. He fell with a mighty Noise, and the Alarm was ge­neral through the Family. — Had there been Earth or Air-quakes in those Days, no Doubt they had all ran to Prayers, and laughed at themselves for so doing, when the Danger was over.—Sir Peter thundered —Miss screamed, and Pinup wept so loud, that my Lady with her Company, and al­most all the Servants, filled the Room in an Instant.

THE Knight thought he acted very cun­ningly, by not telling the Whole of this Affair before so many; but as he dropt some Words about Miss, and insisted that Pinup and Jack should be immediately dis­charged, he left them all Room enough to think the worst, tho', perhaps, their Charity and Good-nature wanted not his Help.—My Lady pleaded strongly for poor Pinup; yet at last she was obliged to con­sent, but with a Proviso, that the Butler should make a Third. Sir Peter gave him up very readily, so that in less than an Hour, the ill-fated Mr. Buffett lost his Cellar.—The unhappy Pinup lost all her Lover's Promises.—The unfortunate Jack [Page 23] lost Ten Thousand Pounds, and — next Day Miss Shallow lost her Reputation, but luckily she found it on the Third, in the Arms of 'Squire Hunt.

I FORGOT to mention, that Mr. Sang­froid had been lately obliged to accompany a Nobleman to Lisbon; so that Jack lost this Asylum, with his Advice and Friend­ship.—When he had packed up his Goods, and resigned his Livery, he found Mrs. Pinup waiting for him in the Hall, because, as she said, ‘One Coach might serve both.’ — They mounted, but where to drive was not determined; but at last they stopt in Southampton-street. Jack alighted, and soon found a convenient Lodging, where the happy Pair acted the Part of Man and Wife, with great Harmony for about a Fortnight. Pinup often boasted her Riches, and tempted him, by shewing Thirty Guineas in hard Gold, besides Linens and Woollens, and sundry Gowns and Pet­ticoats.— Jack was Proof against all Tears and Intreaties. — 'Psha, said he, I've more than that myself. Marry! — we should be pretty Devils truly! No, no, Child, keep your Money, and I'll keep your Secret.'—'I don't understand, said she, what you mean by Secrets. — If I have any, I believe it won't be a Secret [Page 24] long.—I wish your Money was no more a Secret than mine.'—'So much for Se­crets, reply'd Jack, now for the Proof. Do you see that large Trunk, my Dear? 'Tis the faithful Repository of fifty Gui­neas.' Ay, ay, said she, I see both your Trunks, but for the Money, seeing's be­lieving.' 'You have no more Faith, cry'd Jack, than an Ebrew Jew; but I shall convince you in a Moment.’—The large Trunk had not been open'd, by him, these six Months, and he found the Lock rusty, and more difficult than it used to be. At last he got the better, but was surprized at seeing some of his Effects out of order. In a little Flutter, he search'd for his Purse, but not readily finding it, his Hurry increas­ed, and he pull'd out an old Great Coat, and some tatter'd Shirts artfully mingl'd with some of his Things of little Value.—In a Word, his Money and his best Effects were vanish'd. — He flew in an Instant to the small Trunk, which contain'd his ordinary wear, and in which he had very oddly placed the small Box his old Friend Mr. Kindly had given him, and most of Mr. Villeneuf's and his own Papers. Finding this safe and untouch'd, he sat down in Silence, tho' greatly perplex'd.

[Page 25] ‘BLESS me, said Mrs. Pinup, what ails the Man?—Sure, you haven't lost your Money? — Yes, said Jack, 'tis gone, — every Shilling gone! but how, or which Way, Heaven knows!—Heaven knows! said she, I believe Heaven knows very well you had no such Thing, but that you've betray'd and cheated a poor innocent Woman; but since I find these are your Tricks, I shall take Care of myself, I assure you.—Very well, reply'd Jack, pray proceed, for I am in a Temper to pro­voke a Saint; for I sha'n't answer.’—As she had nothing to fear, she saluted him with bitter Terms, and many stinging Re­proaches, till Tears interven'd, and gave him a Recess.— ‘Since, said he, you are so good to be silent, because you have no more to say, pray let me be heard.—I have my Quarter's Wages in my Pocket, which will more than pay the Lodging. Let me have a little Repose this Night, and To-morrow you may dispose of your­self how and which way you please, for, by the Lord, this shall be the last.’Pinup attempted a Reply, but he swore in so peremptory a Manner, as frighten'd the poor Woman into Silence. They retir'd to Bed, but Love and Repose had forsaken it, and Hatred and Disquietude took their [Page 26] Place. The dawning Day rous'd Jack from his Pillow, and Pinup unwillingly follow'd. He generously paid all Charges, and put­ting his Trunks on a Bier, parted with this Lady, telling her, before the Land-lady, that she might follow at her Leisure, but, as he intended, so, he never saw her after.


EXAMPLE is a living Law, whose Sway
Men more than all the written Laws obey.

AS the dropping Water will, in Time, impress even Marble, so low and mean Company will communicate their Sen­timents and infect even an Heart of Un­derstanding and Virtue. Jack now ceas'd to be the agreeable and the polite. He swore much, and sometimes drank. He had contracted a saucy impertinent Air, and instead of that humble, modest Deport­ment that drew on him the Love and Esteem of the World, his Looks and Acti­ons seem'd to demand them as his Right, and as due to his Person and superior Me­rit. [Page 27] He forgot all the Lessons and In­structions of his Friends, and thought his own Experience and great Knowledge were sufficient to conduct him, without the As­sistance of pedantick Rules, or the musty Gravity of old Philosophers.

HOWEVER, this last Stroke of Fortune had alter'd his Thermometer, and Pride sunk down to extreme Humility. In this Tem­per he apply'd to Mr. Edge, a Barber, to whom he made known his Situation. Ho­nest Edge was sorry to find him in such Distress, and provided him a Room for two Shillings a Week, but for his Diet, he was to manage the best Way he could. He had still three Guineas and some Silver remaining, and waited, with great Anxiety, for a Turn of Fortune.

AS our Hero, like other Heroes, has found a Time for Idleness and Inaction, it furnishes me an Opportunity of exa­mining the Memoirs of the Parliament of Footmen, and making such Extracts as I judge of publick Use and Benefit.

THIS noble Order held their Assemblies at sundry Beer-Houses, but all united in the main View of giving Laws to, and providing a Maintenance for the Brethren who came within their Rules. The Cham­ber our Friend frequented was fill'd with [Page 28] the Servants of Dukes, Lords, Bishops, Knights and Squires, and made up a subscribing Body of about two hundred, of which forty or fifty were commonly present at each weekly Assembly. As these great Men, follow'd the Example of their great Supe­riors, they were less clamorous than might be expected. An old Gentleman fill'd the Chair as Speaker, and kept Matters in most excellent order.

THE following are a few of their prin­cipal Resolutions; for by the Advice of Friends, I shall speedily publish, by Sub­scription, a full and impartial History of this noble Order, in seven Volumes Octavo, in which will be included all their Speeches on the most interesting Subjects, and a com­plete System of Wisdom and Prudence. The Resolutions necessary in this Place are as follow.

RESOLVED, That each Member, when out of Place, shall receive two Shillings each Week, for the Term of six Months, but no longer. On his getting a new Li­very to pay fresh Entrance.

RESOLVED, That each Member pay five Shillings on his Admittance, and two Shil­lings and Sixpence each Quarter.

RESOLVED, That no Member, when accompanying his Master or Mistress in [Page 29] their Visits, shall attempt to open or hold the Coach Door, or afford them any the least Assistance, but leave them to the Care of the Servants of the Family visited.

RESOLVED, That the Hats, Swords or Canes of Gentlemen visiting our respective Masters, shall be seized upon, and kept in safe Custody, until the said Gentlemen de­part. Should any of the said Gentlemen refuse or neglect to pay the usual Compli­ment, it shall and may be lawful to change his said Hat, &c. or have them mislaid or lost, and, as Occasion serves, to give him Water when he calls for Wine; small Beer when he desires Bread; and, if he be an obstinate Offender, entirely to disregard and affront him.

RESOLVED, That as we look on the Tables of our Masters as Ordinaries, so we expect to be paid in Proportion to their Rank, from half a Crown to half a Gui­nea.

RESOLVED, That no Persons paying a Morning Visit to our respective Masters, and particularly Trades-People with Bills, shall be permitted to see them, except on Payment of the usual and accustomed Fee, but on their Compliance, then our said Masters to be made visible, notwithstand­ing any Orders to the contrary.

[Page 30]RESOLVED, That all Tradesmen shall be obliged to pay at the Rate of Five Pounds by the Hundred, for every Commodity sold to our respective Masters; and the said Tradesmen are hereby empower'd to make an extraordinary Charge of ten Pounds by the Hundred.

RESOLVED, That in attending our Ma­sters or Mistresses to the Play-house, or any other publick Spectacle where we are ad­mitted, we will endeavour to imitate their Conduct, by doing our utmost to disturb the Audience. This will demonstrate our Power, and shew the Use of exalting us.

RESOLVED, That no Member shall be entitled to the Benefit of this Society, who shall live more than three Months in any Family who do not play Cards five Nights in the Week, Sunday Night included; nei­ther shall he receive any Benefit, if it can be proved that he has suffer'd any Dimi­nution to his Authority and legal Privi­leges.

RESOLVED, And it is hereby most so­lemnly agreed, by the Honour and Dig­nity of our Cloth, that should any Member of this Society marry the Relict of his Ma­ster, or the Daughter of his Master or Mistress, that he shall pay into the Hands of our Treasurer, Ten Shillings for every [Page 31] Hundred Pounds obtained by such Mar­riage.

RESOLVED, That any Member, guilty of Robbery or Theft, shall be expell'd this Society. Nevertheless, this is not under­stood to extend to Breach of Trust, Embez­zlement of Goods, and the necessary Frauds in Bread, Coals, Candles, Oats, &c. which we regard as Privileges annexed to our Posts, and Part of our just Perquisites.

RESOLVED, That each Member be as careful as possible of all his Apparel, except the Livery, and that he practises all lawful Ways and Means to wear out his Master's Shirts, Shoes, Stockings, &c.

THEY had many more, equally whole­some Laws, not made, like some others, to be broken or despised, for I apprehend they kept strictly to each.


Endure and conquer; Jove will soon dispose
To future Good our past and present Woes:
An Hour will come with Pleasure to relate
Your Sorrows past, as Benefits of Fate.

JACK remain'd at the Barber's about three Weeks; and tho' he received his Parliamentary Pension very punctually, yet his Money diminished apace.

HE saw no Appearance of Advance­ment, and gloomy melancholy Thoughts rack'd his Brain. With a View of allevi­ating his Sorrows, he frequently took a Dram, and innocently amused himself with one or two very low Amours. This made his Purse feel a very sensible Decay, for it now contain'd but a very few Shillings.— Mad and wild at the Cruelty of his Fate, a thousand Projects fill'd his Head, and at last ended in the noble Resolution of spend­ing the Little he had in Pleasure, and then to resign a Life that became burthensome to him. He brought many weighty Rea­sons to vindicate the Action, and call'd, to [Page 33] his Mind the Example of sundry great Men who accounted it meritorious. — ‘Why are we, said he, brought into the World but to enjoy the few Pleasures of it with Ease and Content.—What Ease have I? —What Content?—If the Rea­sons of Being cease, it is but just we should cease to Be—Besides, What are all the Pleasures of this World, even in the highest Gratification, but idle stupid Re­petitions of the same stupid Amusements? —Come, gentle Thames, and peaceful Grave now come, for Conyers is aweary of this World, and longs to lay his troubled Head in Dust!

HE was now in St. James's Park. His Steps were slow; his Arms were folded; his Head reclined, and a fix'd Melancholy was seated on his Brow.—In the Midst of these Reflections, two of his quondam Bre­thren pass'd him by; but one, turning about, cry'd,— ‘Z—ns, Jack Constant!— Such a Man alive! Where the Devil have you hid yourself these thousand Years?’—These Sort of Greetings finish­ed, they enter'd into Particulars. ‘I suppose, said Tom Smart, you are now one of those poor dastardly Scoundrels, who starve in a rich World.'— 'Let him starve, cry'd Jack Brazen, if he han't Spirit enough [Page 34] to fish in troubled Waters.' 'Come, come, said Smart, d'ye really want Mo­ney?'— 'Not much, reply'd our Friend, for I believe I have a Shilling; but where to get another, the Lord knows.' — 'Here's a Guinea, my Boy, said Smart, you see I don't want Money, nor need you, if you'll take our Advice; but let's dine together, and talk that Matter over.’

THEY dined, and a Bottle of Port was open'd, as well as the Conversation. Smart dwelt long on the partial Distribution of the good Things of this World, and on the Necessity of correcting the Scheme.— ‘Is it just, said he, that Numbers of good-for-nothing worthless Animals shall wal­low in Plenty and Abundance, whilst such young Fellows as us may want the com­mon Conveniencies of Life?'—Very just, said Brazen, provided they will permit our using some of their Superfluities.'— D—me, said Jack, but I am all in the Dark. I wish you'd speak a little plainer, or not speak at all. You may depend on my Secrecy, for I am almost already in the Grave. Now, Gentlemen, if you've a Mind to bring me to Life, come to the Point directly, and a thousand to one but I'll join in your Scheme.' — 'Well [Page 35] said, honest Jack, cry'd Smart, then to the Point.—You must know, that Brazen and I were turn'd a-drift together from my Lord's. We wore out our Shoes and the Pavement, but could get no Em­ployment; and something told us, that Eating was necessary, so, my dear Con­stant, we padded it about the Fields for some Time, and, by our Industry, have risen to Horse. We are at this Time Commissioners of the Highways, and col­lect those Duties omitted in the Acts of Parliament.'— 'I understand you, said Jack; but does it answer? Is it not dan­gerous?' — 'It answers, said Smart, ex­tremely well, tho', to be sure, it is a little hazardous; but where is the Employ­ment without it? — Don't the Merchant venture for Lucre, and the Soldier and Sailor risk their Lives for Six-pence a Day?— Some risk their Reputation, and most People risk their Souls. — Believe me, Jack, the whole World is a Game of Hazard, and (shewing his Pistols) here are my Dice.—Will you set?’

OUR Hero paus'd, and a violent Con­flict arose in his Breast between Virtue and Necessity.—At last, Brazen clapp'd him on the Shoulder, and cry'd, — ‘What says my dear Boy?—Will you make a Third, [Page 36] and then our Party is compleat?— Gen­tlemen, said Jack, give me your Hands. Now I am a Brother. — Command and lead me where you please.’

That Night they conducted him to their Lodging, and gave him a Horse for the Morning Expedition, and three Guineas more. They rose very early, and Jack put on a Pair of Spatterdashes, examin'd his Saddle and Pistols, and found all Things in tolerable Order.

THE Plan of Operation was settled by Smart, but, providentially, Jack made a small Alteration. ‘No, Gentlemen, said he, let us not set out together, or keep Company on the Road, as it may cause Suspicion; let us rather divide, and ride on to Staines, but join on Hounslow-heath precisely at Eleven o'Clock, when we can't fail of meeting the Coach we look for. — Besides, when separate, we may each pick up a single Traveller to amuse us before the principal Action.'—'Very right, said Smart, then I'll advance first, Brazen will follow in half an Hour, and you will bring up the Rear in another; so, Gentlemen, Good-morrow, Success attend us.’—He rode off, and Brazen but rested his proper Time.

[Page 37]WHEN alone, Jack began to consider this Affair more circumspectly, but not with a Design of breaking his Engagement. The Fellow, who took Care of the Horses, was no Stranger to the Expedition, and congratulated his new Master, on the Pro­spect of making his Fortune. Tim, said Jack, I have a Thought that will sur­prize my Friends; if you will assist me I'll give your a Crown for your Trouble.' —That I will, Master, answer'd Tim, and be true and faithful too.'— 'Well, then, said Jack, take my Horse, and ride a little beyond the Church at Hounslow, and wait for me; you may depend I shan't keep you long. When you de­liver me the Horse, go directly across the Heath.’Tim promis'd to obey his Orders, and set forwards.

TWO odd Circumstances happen'd to Jack. He very fortunately knew the Name of a Family that liv'd just by Hounslow, of which he intended to make a proper Use; and the Old Great Coat which he found in his Trunk, he had made into a Surtout, and was then on his Back. This Coat was of that Sort of Cloath that is one Side Scarlet, and the other Blue; it was single, and not lined. This Day the Blue was outside, and the Sleeves turn'd up, [Page 38] made Scarlet Cuffs. Thus dress'd, he walk'd to Piccadilly, and took a Post-Chaise to Hounslow, where he arrived at Ten o'Clock. With great Civility he en­quired of Mrs. Day about the Family he said he was going to visit. He call'd for a Gill of Wine, and the good Woman an­swer'd all his Questions, which were such, as made her imagine he was a Relation of the Family, and had just come from Abroad. He hinted, that perhaps he might stay there a Week, or return in an Hour, when he'd be glad of a Post-Chaise ready for London. Mrs. Day assuring him he should have one at a Moment's Warn­ing, he walk'd forward tho' with a troubled Mind, and soon found his Horse. When Tim had march'd off, he turn'd his Surtout, and was now in Scarlet, with Blue Sleeves.

HE rode on about three Miles, and met with his Friends, who began to be in some Pain about him.

‘Z—ds, said Smart, what the Devil kept you so long?—but we have no Time to talk, for the Coach is at Hand. You are to keep the Postillion and Coachman in Awe; Brazen will do the same with the Servants, and let me alone for con­versing with the Passengers. When the Jobb's over, let's separate, and meet at our Lodging.’

[Page 39]THEY had no Time for further Delibe­ration, for the Coach drew near.— Cou­rage! cry'd Smart, and all rode briskly for­ward.—Jack did his Duty with the Postil­lion;—The Servants, making a Resistance, received a Fire from Brazen, which did no Harm; but the Compliment was instantly return'd, and poor Brazen fell from his Horse. Whilst this was doing, Smart attack'd the Coach, but a Gentleman in it, with great Resolution, so nimbly, and with such Strength, turn'd his Wrist, that the Pistol went off in the Air, and immedi­ately one of the Servants rode up, and knock'd him down.

JACK, finding two Wings of his Army taken Prisoners, was determin'd to save the Remainder by a speedy Flight. The Gentlemen and Servants were so busy about Smart and Brazen, that he was not pursu'd, but got near Hounslow in a short Time.— His former Caution had now its Use; for tying his Horse to a Tree, a little out of the Road, he once more turn'd his Coat, and walk'd leisurely on to the Inn. With a tolerable Coolness of Temper, he desir'd a Post-Chaise; but accidentally a Horse was wanting, which obliged him to wait a full half Hour, which, no doubt, he thought was half an Age. He summon'd [Page 40] all his Resolution to avoid Suspicion, and talk'd to Mrs. Day about the Family he had visited. His Chaise was just ready when Mr. Day enter'd.—‘There, now, said he, is two fine Gentlemen that have made a noble Kettle of Fish of it this Morning.' — 'Bless me, my Dear, said Mrs. Day, what's the Matter? — Not much, reply'd her Husband, only a Coach was stopp'd on the Heath by three High-waymen, and two of 'em is taken, and now at next Inn.'—'Dear Sirs, said Mrs. Day, 'tis the most preposteroustest Thing in Life, that Gentlefolks won't travel in Post Chaiseses, and then they're always safe from these Fellows.'—'Well, well, said her Husband, I must send after the Third who escap'd; I'll engage to find out his Scarlet Coat before Night.'— Were it not, said Mrs. Day, that these poor Creatures pay for being Taken, I am sure and certain my Husband would never trouble his Head about them; because, you know, Sir, one of the Gang will peach, and then the others hang of Course.’

WHAT were the Emotions of Jack's Soul, cannot be express'd. He felt Ago­nies that all his former Distresses had never plung'd him into; but, recollecting his [Page 41] Situation, he chim'd in with Mrs. Day, and spoke greatly against the Disturbers of the Publick.—At last, he took his Leave of Mrs. Day, mounted his Chaise, and got safe to London, but often thought the Horses were very bad.


To he Good, is to be Happy: Angels
Are happier than Men, because they're better.
Guilt is the Source of Sorrow; 'tis the Fiend,
Th' avenging Fiend, that follows us behind
With Whips and Stings. The Bless'd know none of this,
But rest in everlasting Peace of Mind,
And find the Height of all their Heav'n in Goodness.

GUILT is a Fiend, that seizing the Conscience, becomes a Tyrant over every Idea of Man. Remorse is his Com­panion, and Suspicion and Fear constantly pursue his Steps. Disquietude engrosses every Thought, and even his sleeping Ima­gination is fill'd with Dread and Horror. —Our poor Hero is now an Object of the greatest Compassion.—He knew not whom [Page 42] to trust, where to fly for Safety, or how to live; and he had now discover'd that he was very unfit to die.—He got to his Lodg­ing, and telling the Barber that he was engaged to a Gentleman at Hampstead, he paid a Week's Rent, call'd a Coach, and drove, with his Effects, to an Inn in South-wark.

NOT secure in so publick a Place, he found out a poor Widow in a neighbour­ing Village, with whom he agreed for Diet and Lodging. Here he was safe and quiet, had his anxious Thoughts permit­ted him any Repose. A Fortnight pass'd, and he paid the poor Woman very punc­tually. She began to conceive a very great Opinion of Mr. Conyers, as his whole De­portment was very regular and decent. His Mind now grew somewhat more calm, and his Sleep was less disturb'd, for he most sincerely repented of his Folly and Wickedness, and with great Fervency and Devotion, confess'd his manifold Trans­gressions, and humbly pray'd for Mercy and Forgiveness.

HIS Purse was extremely low. He had Thoughts of applying to some People he knew, but durst not venture to London; and his Landlady was so poor, she could not afford to give him Credit.—He almost [Page 43] determin'd to break his Promise to Mr. Johnston, and write to Lord Truegood, or Mr. Kindly; but as he knew not what Apology to make for deferring it so long, or how to account for his Conduct, he was obliged to lay the Thought aside, at least for the present.—He frequently wept most bitterly, and bewail'd his wretched Condition. The Agitation of his Mind affected his Health, and threw him into a dangerous Fever. The poor Woman was extremely tender and careful of him, but his Soul wanting as salutary Remedies as his Body, he begg'd that a Clergyman might be sent for; and Doctor St. Amour, Minister of the Parish, attended on the first Notice. This Gentleman was one of those who reproach many of his Profession, for he was pious without Moroseness, and charitable without Ostentation. Jack, tho' extremely weak, politely thank'd the Doc­tor for his Condescension in visiting so poor, so wretched, so miserable a Being. — The good Man, with an easy Countenance, re­ply'd.—‘If your Situation, Sir, is so bad, I think you require, and have a natural Right to my more immediate and parti­cular Attention.

THE Doctor pray'd by him in the true Spirit of Devotion. His Exhortations [Page 44] were so fill'd with Christian Eloquence, as warm'd and chear'd the Heart of Conyers, and insensibly lighten'd his Burthens.— The Fever still continued, and the Doctor never fail'd his Morning and Evening Visits.— Jack was so charm'd, that he open'd his whole Soul to this good Man, and hid not the minutest Part of all his Affairs since his Return from France.—The Gentleman flatter'd not his Sins, neither did he at­tempt to affright him with the dismal Pro­spect of endless Misery. He skilfully pro­bed and cleansed his Wounds, and then pour'd in the Balsam of Peace, Comfort, and Hopes of Pardon by Repentance, and a Newness of Life.—Had Mr. Dryden been acquainted with one Man of Dr. St. Amour's Character, I apprehend he would not have said, that Religion and Roguery go together.

IN one of these Conversations, Jack took an Opportunity of mentioning the Promise he made to Mr. Kindly when he gave him the small Box, as spoken of in a former Chapter. — ‘I am now, Sir, said he, so poor, so indigent, that I think I may safely open the Present; but I am so fee­ble, that I must beg your Assistance.’ The Doctor found the Box in the Trunk, and open'd it by the Bed-side.—He pull'd out a Quantity of Straw, and, at last, a [Page 45] Sheet of Paper which he read, and con­tained these Words.

My Dear Jack,

IF you have kept your Promise with re­gard to this Box, you must certainly be miserable when you read this. I have a sincere and most affectionate Regard for you, and weep at the Situation I must suppose you are in.

Should the Will of the Almighty afflict you with Sickness or Misfortunes, patiently resign yourself into his Hands, who alone knows your Necessities, and who suffers not a Sparrow to fall to the Ground without his Orders. Wait his good Time without repining, and firmly rely on his Bounty.

But, should your Calamities spring from Wickedness, Folly, and Extravagance. Oh my Child! turn to the Father of Mer­cies, and with a pure and upright Heart confess your Crimes; repent of your Faults, read his Word, and practise his Divine Precept. You will then know the Bles­sing of Righteousness, the Joys of Virtue, and the real Felicity of conscious Innocence. But, be not good only for a Time; Beware of relapsing into mistaken Pleasures. Ruin [Page 46] and Reprobacy will follow, and Soul and Body be at Stake.

Oh Jack! If your Heart be not harden'd in Iniquity: If any Spark remains of a vir­tuous Education: If Gratitude be not dead in your Breast, think, ere it is too late. Think on your own Happiness, and think on your assured Friend,


POSTSCRIPT. Under this Paper you will find a Proof of my Love.

AS the Doctor read, Jack wept. The good Man could not avoid sympathizing, and with streaming Eyes, pursued the Di­rections of the Postscript; but when he open'd a Paper nicely roll'd, and threw Twenty Guineas on the Table, poor Jack attempted to speak, but his Tongue faulter­ing, he fainted on his Pillow. With some Difficulty he recover'd, and a violent Fit of Crying ensu'd.—‘Yes, cry'd he, I will obey my Father, my Friend, and my Guardian Angel! Oh Sir! What has not this most worthy Man done for me! — He saved me when an Infant, and pre­serves me when a Man. Good God! Can I be ungrateful to his Hopes?—Can [Page 47] I disregard his charitable Instructions?— No! If Heaven prolongs my Days, they shall be employ'd in Virtue and Honour.' Your Resolution, said Dr. St. Amour, is truly just, and I pray God to keep you firm in it, but this present Mark of his Bounty, is not the only one you have lately received.—His Providence has pre­serv'd you from the shameful, infamous Death that your Hounslow Companions suffer'd last Week. I have enquir'd par­ticularly into that Affair, and find you have nothing to dread. A third Person was indeed spoken of at the Tryal, but the Name of Constant or Conyers was never mention'd. Let this suffice to ease your Mind.—Follow Mr. Kindly's Advice, and be happy!’

WHEN alone, he shudder'd and wept at the Fate of Smart and Brazen. He reflect­ed on the dreadful Consequences of lawless Pursuits. He traced back his own Life and wicked Conduct, and found, that one Vice generates another; that as they grow in Strength; they corrupt the Heart by Degrees, until the whole Man is swallow'd up in Debauchery, and his Name and Na­ture eraz'd out of the Volume of the World. —‘How fatal, continued he, is the Begin­ning of Evil! and who can foresee the [Page 48] End?—We go on from Step to Step re­gardless of Danger. We walk on Fire cover'd with Ashes. No Thought, no Prudence guides. We dream of Pleasure and Delight, but, too often, awake in the Gulph of Sorrow and Perdition! — How few, like me, have prov'd an almost mi­raculous Escape, and what Thanks, what Gratitude do I not owe for my Deliver­ance!’—His Reflections were very just and moving, and he promis'd to himself an entire Change of Conduct.

HIS Spirits began to revive, and in a few Days the Fever left him. He thank'd the Apothecary, and desir'd his Bill, but the good Doctor St. Amour had been before­hand with him. So generous was this Gentleman, that he would not permit him to mention that, or any other Obligation he lay under.—‘All I now want, said the Doctor, is to see you quite recovered, and then we shall think of somewhat for your Service.’— In a Week he was perfectly well, tho' a little Pale, and when neatly dress'd, the Doctor was surpris'd at his comely Appearance.—At last he propos'd an Employment to Jack, which, he said, he knew he could discharge extremely well. —Sir John Curious, continued he, wants a young Man, like you, to read to him, [Page 49] and keep his private Accounts. I have satisfied him as to your Abilities, and he is willing to give you thirty Pounds a Year. He is very old, rich and gouty, and sometimes peevish, but a Man must bear with the Infirmities of Superiors.’ He then proceeded in a very useful Lecture on a moral and political Conduct.—Conyers return'd him many Acknowledgements, and in two Days he took a grateful Adieu of the good Widow, and fix'd in London with the Family of Sir John Curious.


You cannot Love, nor Pleasure take or give;
But Life begin, when 'tis too late to live:
On a tir'd Courser you pursue Delight;
Let slip your Morning, and set out at Night.

NEVER Man began an Employment with more Pleasure. He seem'd as if return'd again into Life, and was de­termin'd to spare no Pains in enjoying it.— His first Care was a particular Attention to his Duty, and his next was to find out the [Page 50] Family Oeconomy, that he might adapt himself to their different Tempers.

SIR JOHN CURIOUS was Sixty-seven Years of Age, very corpulent, and ex­tremely infirm. When his Gout was not violent, he din'd with his Company, and was very chearful. From Seven to Nine at Night, Jack read to him; at Ten he went to Bed, but never rose till about Eleven next Morning. Two Servants at­tended him, and about One o'Clock, all his Flannels were remov'd, and in an old embroider'd Coat and great Wig, he sat in his Arm-Chair, and Jack did the Duty of his Office till Three o'Clock.—He did SIR ROBERT WALPOLE the Honour of being his Enemy, and look'd on the Crafts­man, equal, if not superior to Holy Writ, consequently these Papers were every Mo­ment quoted. In this Choice of Books he had great Judgment, and to shew it fully, he delighted in the Works of TAYLOR the Water Poet; in an old and only Transla­tion of DUBARTUS; in huge Folios of Heraldry; and when inclin'd to Sleep, in the modern Pamphlets and weekly Papers.

HIS House-Steward had a good Salary, and a certain Quarterly Sum for providing all Things for the Family. This Sum was accounted for, but could not be exceeded. [Page 51] To examine, and checque these Accounts, was part of Jack's Duty.

SIR JOHN had always maintain'd the Character of A fine Gentleman. His Dress was gay, and his Manner such, that sup­ported the Dignity he assum'd. It was a Question, whether Pride or Avarice had the Superiority in his Constitution, but it is certain, they frequently acted in concert. Pride obliged him to a Punctuality in pay­ing his Debts, but Avarice prevented his going a Step beyond it.—Pride made him extremely Courteous, Complaisant and Cere­monious, because he lov'd to be so treated himself, but Avarice stopp'd his Ears against the Cries of the Poor, expell'd every Senti­ment of Charity and Benevolence, and con­tracted and abridg'd some of his Vices, even when he had the Power of being Vicious. In a Word, Sir John had a Negative Cha­racter, and acquir'd the Title of a good Sort of Man; that is, his Vices were not many, but he had not a single Virtue.

HE had seen enough of one Part of the World to convince him that there was no such Thing as a modest Woman. This happy Imagination kept him a Batchelor, till, at the Age of Sixty-three, Love, or some other Monosyllable, stumbled into his Head. —The Charms of Miss Bridoon, his Sadler's [Page 52] Daughter, made him so generous as to propose a Marriage and relinquish a For­tune. Whilst this Treaty was on Foot, his Relations interpos'd, and some of his most intimate Friends spoke pretty freely about it. They said, ‘It was highly pru­dent in him to marry, but begg'd he would consider his Age and the Infirmi­ties growing on him. That a Girl of Eighteen was quite out of the Rule of Proportion. That a Mechanick's Daugh­ter was unworthy his Rank and Fortune, and an Indignity to his Family. That no one could answer for the Conduct of a young Girl, especially one of low Edu­cation, and begg'd him to turn his Eyes on some Lady, whose Years would Gua­rantee her Virtue, and make him happy in a faithful Companion.’

‘OONS, cry'd the Knight, what the Plague would you be at? I tell you, my Age is no Impediment, for I find myself as vigorous as at Twenty. If Children, not my own, inherit my Name and Estate, is it not the Practice of every Day? Is it not much better than the Heathen Scheme of Adoption?—The Honour of my Family, which my virtuous Sister makes such a Noise about, is a Farce, and I suppose she thought so, when she [Page 53] ran away with my Father's Footman. Does she imagine, that the Son of such a Scoundrel shall enjoy my Fortune?— Then as to a virtuous Wife, I know the World too well to expect such a one, but I likewise know, that I had rather have a Part in a young Wench, than the Whole of any old Woman breathing.’—In short, Sir John was resolute, or rather, positive. Miss Bridoon was advanc'd to his Bed, and Consummatum est, rang through the Parish.

LADY CURIOUS was extremely pretty. Her Eyes spoke, and her great Vivacity and Sprightliness had attractive Qualities. —An House magnificently furnish'd.—A Number of Servants, with Coach, Chariot, &c. were so infinitely beyond her Hopes, that her little Head began to turn. Her Constitution and Soil were so good, that the seeds of Example grew up surprizingly fast, and afforded a plentiful Crop of the most fashionable Follies. In a short Time, she had contracted a Variety of Acquaint­ance, and vastly improv'd in modern Po­liteness.—Plays, Operas and Visits, went a constant Round, and Drums, Routs and Assemblies employ'd her Time, at Home and Abroad. She had a Passion for Play, and play'd very deep. Here, indeed, her low Birth was conspicuous, for, not being [Page 54] educated from her Childhood, like other Ladies of Quality, in the true Principles of Gaming, she made but a small Progress in that Science, and play'd so ill, and lost so much Money, that her charming Com­pany was greatly courted and admir'd.

SIR JOHN was very indifferent about these Matters. He allow'd her two hundred Pounds a Year as Pin-Money, but was so rigid and exact, that no Art, nor all her Ladyship's Contrivances, could extract a Shilling more. — Conyers knew of large Sums lost at Cards, and was surprized how her Ladyship could answer so many Demands; but at last he discover'd, that her Play-Purse was inexhaustible.—Notwith­standing the Multitude of Affairs, and the Variety of Employments on her Hands, she found a Time to present to Sir John a Brace of fine Boys. Her Ladyship was Happy, the old Knight was Content, and Family Affairs went on with great Har­mony.

IN about three Months Conyers pick'd out this Information from the Steward, and Mrs. Sieve, her Ladyship's Woman. This last threw in some Nods, Winks, and In­nuendos, but the Honour of her Lady was always sacred. Mrs. Sieve conceived a good Opinion of Jack, and on many Oc­casions [Page 55] gave him Proofs of her Esteem.— He had felt the fatal Effects of such Friend­ship, and was determin'd to avoid every Temptation.—He shunn'd her Presence as much as possible, and even slighted her Favours.—His Conduct was such an Af­front to her Pride and Beauty, that she shifted Sides, and became an implacable Enemy.

THIS kind Creature had laid many Schemes to prepossess her Lady against Jack. She insinuated, that his Impudence had not only dar'd to make Attempts on her Virtue, but had even mutter'd Re­flections on her Ladyship. — Fir'd at his Insolence, my Lady determin'd to have him immediately kicked out, but the artful Sieve begg'd of her Lady­ship not to disparage herself so much as to speak of such an Affair, but to worm the the Fellow out by Degrees.

THE Resolution being taken, my Lady never ceased teizing Sir John till he grew peevish.—Mrs. Sieve affronted Jack openly, and the Steward treated him with great Impertinence. Conyers found a very visible Change in the Countenances of the whole Family, and was made very uneasy in his Duty, but knew not what to ascribe it to. [Page 56] —One Evening, Sir John used him a little harshly, but the Humility of Jack spoke much in his Favour, and oblig'd the Knight, with some good Humour, to ask him, What he had done to my Lady and her Woman?— I protest, Sir, said Jack, I have done no­thing. — ‘Nothing! cry'd Sir John, Nay then I know your Crime; you can never be forgiven.—Oons! a Handsome Fellow of your Age in such a Family as this, and do Nothing! — Thou art a silly Blockhead, and I am sorry for it, but, Travel you must; however, I'm deter­min'd you shall stay till I get you another Service, and have one in your Place.’

JACK had been so accustom'd to Dis­appointments, that he bore this with great Temper and Resignation. He inform'd his Friend Dr. St. Amour of this Revolu­tion, and told him what was the Occasion of it, which he had learn'd from the House-Maid. The good Man lifted up his Eyes, begg'd of him to have Patience, and pro­mis'd to look out for a more agreeable Employment.

SOME Days after, Conyers was busy with Sir John when Mr. Sampson enter'd. The Knight had a great Regard for this Gentle­man, and was extremely Civil to him. ‘Well, Friend Sampson, said he, Time was, [Page 57] when we us'd to meet oftner, but this plaguy Gout makes me perform a tedi­ous Quarentine you see.'—'Ah, Sir John, reply'd Mr. Sampson, you are at Anchor in a safe Harbour, but I have all your Ailments, and am buffetted about in stormy Winds. — 'Not so, not so, an­swer'd the Knight, I hope my old Friend and Acquaintance is in no Danger of Shipwreck.—No Misfortunes I hope.'— None, said Mr. Sampson, but what my Temper can bear.—I have lost my only Child, just such a Youth as that, (point­ing to Jack.) I have lost the best Part of my Substance by the War, and I have found old Age and Infirmities.—But, is it not just, I should resign with Patience what I enjoy'd and held but at the Will of the Donor?’

‘MR. SAMPSON, said Sir John, you were always a Philosopher, but I am really concern'd at your Misfortunes. Perhaps some Money, at this Time, may have its Use, and I wish it was in my Power to assist you, but, really my Fa­mily is so expensive, that I am quite poor at present. I wish I had seen you last Week, for, 'tis but two Days ago since I parted with all my ready Money on a Mortgage.—Truly I am angry at [Page 58] your not acquainting me with your Di­stresses—Indeed I am — and you know the Pleasure I take in assisting my wor­thy Friends.'—'You are extremely good, reply'd Mr. Sampson, but, thank God, I am in no want. When my Debts are collected, which are very numerous, I shall have more than sufficient to main­tain my dear Wife and I, in a comfort­able Manner. Indeed I am ill able to attend my Friends, and much want an honest young Fellow to assist me.'—'I believe, said Sir John, I am pretty deep in your Books. — The last Christening con­sum'd a deal of Wine; but if you have the Bill, I shall see and discharge it.’— Mr. Sampson thank'd the Knight, and re­ceiv'd one hundred and forty Pounds, for which Jack drew a Receipt for him to sign. —‘I protest, Sir, said the Merchant, your young Man writes a charming Hand, and I dare say understands Accounts.'— That he does, answer'd Sir John, and ex­tremely well. He is honest, sober, and diligent, and I heartily wish you had his Equal. What will you give me, Mr. Sampson, if I assign him over to you, provided he consents?—I shall give you, answer'd the other, my sincere Thanks, and the young Man the best Usage in [Page 59] my Power.'—'In two Words, reply'd the Knight, I know of no Fault he has, but being too virtuous and modest for my good Family. My Lady's Maid has set my Lady against him. I know their Tricks, but I don't mind them.’

SOME Questions pass'd, and in less than half an Hour the Affair was concluded on. — Jack received fifteen Pounds for six Months Wages, and wishing Sir John all Happiness, once more shifted his Station.


A genealogical Table, true or false, of illustri­ous Ancestors: a large Estate: a numerous Equipage, and considerable Employments, are what we generally call Noble. But Virtue judges in a different Manner. She takes the Great from amidst the Grandour which surrounds him: Undresses him of the Vanity that disguises him, and rates the Value of the Man by the Man himself. Under the Appearance of Nobility she may find a Fool, a Villain, or a Coward; and in a Plebeian Obscurity discover real Greatness and Probity of Manners. As right Reason is of all Countries, the Wise in all Ages have spoken on this Subject in one uniform, constant Manner.

SANADON'S Note on 6th S. of 1st B. of Horace.

OUR Hero is now brought to that Time of Life, when Sense and Judg­ment are to be expected, or never. He has been happy.—He has been in Trouble.— He has been (for him) rich.—He has been poor, and in the utmost Affliction. These [Page 61] are the Pages of the Book of Nature, and those who read them not carefully, must have very imperfect Ideas of the System of the Universe.

HE was once more happy. He had a Pleasure from the Countenance of Mr. Sampson, which was open and free, with every Indication of an honest and tender Heart. Mrs. Sampson could not refrain a few Tears at the Sight of Conyers, for it happen'd that he much resembled her de­ceased Son. She view'd him with Pleasure, but it was mix'd with Anxiety. She re­garded him as a Child, and he respected her as a Parent.

IN his Employment he was extremely assiduous and careful, and went on very successfully in collecting Mr. Sampson's Debts, and settling his Accounts. The good Man was happy; for Conyers, as much as possible, made all Things easy to him. In a short Time he acquir'd their Favour and Confidence, and was perfectly fami­liar.—The Boy, the very young Man was quite over. His Thoughts were serious, but he acted with Vigour. His Deport­ment was decent, and his Conversation chearful and agreeable. His Duty was his Pleasure, and the Love and Respect of the Family was his Reward, which they [Page 60] [...] [Page 61] [...] [Page 62] could not avoid shewing before all their Friends.

MRS. Sampson and her Sister had been Coheiresses, and had each an Estate in *******, of about Five hundred Pounds a Year. The Sister had been married to Mr. Gold, a Turkey Merchant, who died about four Years since, and added Fifteen thousand Pounds to her Fortune. Mrs. Gold was near Thirty-seven Years of Age, of a noble Presence, with great good Nature and Prudence. She continued a Widow in Spite of many Sollicitations, and so affectionate­ly lov'd her Sister, that she remov'd her Habitation to be nearer to her. When Mr. Sampson was in Distress with his Cre­ditors, Mrs. Gold advanc'd him Six thou­sand Pounds on his and her Sister's Secu­rity.

THE Sisters were almost constantly with each other, and Conyers was always of the Party.—Mrs. Gold had read, and had an excellent Understanding. Mrs. Sampson was a chearful and agreeable Companion. — Her Husband had solid Sense, and great good Humour; and Conyers enliven'd the Conversation by a thousand pleasant Cir­cumstances, but with such natural Elegance and Beauty, that greatly pleas'd, improv'd and diverted.

[Page 63]SOMETIMES their Entertainment was of a serious Nature, and fell on the Follies of the World; — The mad Extravagance of some, and the equally mad Penury of o­thers.—On Justice, Virtue, Charity, and the like. — Mrs. Gold spoke on these Heads with great Strength of Reason, and Mr. Conyers enforced her Arguments by sundry historical Passages, and by Accidents to which he had been Witness. He was a Master of the Subject, and, at different Times, went through the moral and social Duties, with such Spirit and Force, that they were charm'd with his Knowledge, and edified by his Words.

‘HAPPY would it be, said Mrs. Gold, if all Mankind thought like Mr. Conyers.'— And still more so, reply'd her Sister, if they acted like him, for I verily believe he practises his own Doctrine.'—'Madam, answer'd Conyers, I am extremely happy in your good Opinion; but permit me to say, tho' I endeavour, and I hope, do my Duty as I ought, yet I have greatly err'd. I have been idle; I have been extravagant, and, I speak it to my Shame, I have been vicious; but the Goodness of this Family strengthens my Resolution, and confirms me in my honest Purposes of Amendment.'—'If, [Page 64] reply'd Mrs. Gold, you have been crimi­nal, your Confession and Repentance en­creases your Worth.'—'Who has not been criminal? said Mr. Sampson. — To commit a Fault is bad, but to persevere is infamous. For aught I know, Vice has its Use, as it sets off and heightens the Beauties of Virtue to such a Degree, that Common Sense, and even Ignorance, must be charm'd with it.—'Mr. Conyers, said Mrs. Gold, has one Virtue which I wish was a little more general. Tho' he has been so good, agreeably to en­tertain us with Persons and Things, yet has he never dropp'd an harsh Expres­sion against Particulars, nor has he given Matters an ill natur'd Construction.’

‘SCANDAL, Madam, said Conyers, let it inhabit where it will, is a mean and vulgar Vice. It is a poor and vile At­tempt to raise our own Reputation on the Ruins of another. When some con­demn the Actions of a Man, and paint his Conduct in odious Colours, do they not at the same Time modestly intimate, that They are incapable of such Errors?— Pride speaks; not their Pity. To com­passionate the Frailties and Weaknesses of a Man, is the Duty of a Man. It is his Office to set him Right by Tenderness [Page 65] and Humanity, and not by Reproach and Slander to lead him more astray. Should he continue in his Folly, the wisest Maxim is, to commiserate his In­firmities, and avoid an Imitation.’

SOME Evenings they pass'd their Time at Cards, and sometimes the Ladies went to a Play, attended by Conyers. This gave Rise to a Variety of pleasant Chat, where Jack shew'd his Memory and good Taste, but it was a considerable Time before they discover'd he had an excellent Voice. Mrs. Gold was fond of Musick, and he hum­ming a favourite Air,—‘Bless me, said she, I protest you have it quite perfect,—we must insist on your Singing it out.’—He made a few Apologies but obey'd.—This was what the Family did not expect, and increased their Surprize and Pleasure.—By degrees he shew'd his Skill in the French Language, — that he was no Stranger to Latin and Greek, and that he understood Dancing, Fencing and Horsemanship. In a Word, he shew'd them what a Gentleman ought to be.

THE Behaviour of Conyers puzzled Mrs. Gold.—She could not conceive how a Man in his Station could acquire so many genteel Accomplishments. She thought there was a Mystery in it, and when she had just de­termin'd [Page 66] to find it out, ‘Lord bless me, said she, why should I trouble myself about what is not my Concern?’ At that Instant she felt a prodigious Flushing in her Face, and some Sensations she had not been lately accustom'd to. She began to suspect the Cause, and with great Cau­tion, sat down to examine her Heart, and reason with herself, — that is — to find out Reasons to correspond with her Inclinations. The Truth is, she discover'd so many, that Interest and the Pride of Family, were fairly routed, and Prudence and Esteem got the better. She would not call it Love, as she thought it a too sensual Term for one of her Years. She own'd she regarded the Virtues and Qualifications of Mr. Conyers, but the Comeliness of his Person was merely accidental, and quite out of the Question. However, that Contingent and his Youth had certainly some Weight.

BE this as it will, her Resolution was taken, but determin'd not to proceed too rashly. On a certain Day, when she knew her Sister would not stir out, she wrote her a Card, and begg'd Mr. Conyers might be sent to take care of her to the Play, where she was engaged with some Company. Jack dress'd himself properly, and waited on Mrs. Gold. He had no Schemes in [Page 67] View, so his Actions were Free, and with­out Reserve. He had a great Regard for the Widow, which made him fond of every Opportunity of obliging her. Perhaps she had observed this, and gave it a flattering Construction. He found her most neatly dress'd, and, for the first Time, particu­larly remark'd her Charms.

‘I AM quite asham'd, said she, to give Mr. Conyers so much Trouble for no­thing. Our Party is broke, but rather than miss the Conscious Lovers, I was de­termin'd to beg your Company alone, had not Mrs. Talkative and her Daughter sent Word, they'd drink Tea with me.’Conyers said, he was sorry she was disap­pointed, but rejoiced at every Occasion that could shew his Readiness in obeying her Commands. A few Words pass'd, and he attempted to take his Leave, which she would not permit. ‘After all, said she, we can be as well at Home, and my Brother will not expect you till after the Play.’ A Conversation then began on the Comedy, and many Remarks were made on the odd Situation of Indiana, and the noble Constancy of Bevil. A loud Rap at the Door spoke the Arrival of Mrs. and Miss Talkative, and stopp'd their Proceedings.

[Page 68]A NEW Field now open'd. In a short Time all the Tittle-tattle of the Parish was display'd. Lord, Mrs. Gold, you surprise me.—Not hear of this before! Not I indeed, Madam. Dear Madam, I purtest I've for­got most of the Particlers, for the Story is four Days old. Very strange indeed! Why, my dear, they were actually caught, but Matri­mony salves all. This Sort of rational En­tertainment lasted till Tea was produced, which a little eased the Thoughts of Conyers. He seem'd to bend his Eyes and Regard on Miss Talkative, who was very pretty, and had began a Sort of Conversation. Mrs. Gold observed it; which added not to her Repose. She was so absent, that her Tea-Cup slip'd from her Hand, and broke to Pieces, which broke off their Chat. Tea finish'd, she put on a grave Air, and the Ladies put on their Capuchins, to com­pleat their Evening Visits.

CONYERS, unwittingly, had like to have spoil'd all, but Mrs. Gold's hinting, One must be civil to such Sort of People, gave him an Opportunity of saying, He won­der'd of what Use they were in the World. The Daughter, said he, is pretty, but the eternal Clatter of her little Tongue will give some poor Man a great deal of Vex­ation.' 'And yet, said Mrs. Gold, her [Page 69] Fortune will get her a Husband. You Men are all alike, and, I dare say, you would snap at her in an Instant, if you could.' 'I shall not, said Jack, affirm or deny a Thing I have not thought about, for I neither know the Lady or her Fortune; but really, Madam, I think I ought to have been exempted in your general Censure. Were I capable of marrying merely for Money, the Situation I am in, and my Poverty, would excuse me to the World, but who would excuse me to my Conscience? Who would give me Joy of an Equipage, when compell'd to take Pride, Affectation, Folly, and Non-sense to my Arms? I may be ambitious, but, I assure you, Madam, poor as I am, I have not the least Ambition of being mi­serable.

MRS. GOLD was not displeased at his Sentiments, and the Conversation turn'd on more diverting Subjects, tho' she, at last, very dextrously contrived to bring Matri­mony once more on the Carpet. ‘I own my Surprize, said she, that a young Man of your Understanding has not found out one Woman capable of making you happy and easy. Such there are, but you are either too indolent or indifferent, or else your Heart is engaged to some distant [Page 70] Fair One. — Come, Mr. Conyers, be sin­cere, and indulge a Curiosity our Sex is subject to, and recite your Adventures, for I am apt to believe they must be somewhat extraordinary. — 'In Truth, Madam, said Conyers, they are not worth your Notice; but since you command, it is my Duty to obey.’

HE then began a Narrative of his Life, and painted his Sufferings in a very moving Manner. He artfully avoided the Place of his Birth, or the least Hint of Ireland, as it might occasion Scandal. He carried her to the Weaver's in Spittlefields; conducted her to France, and brought her back to London. His Amours were very delicately handled, but his Hounslow Expedition was quite expunged. He dwelt long on Mr. Kindly's Instructions and Letter, and the Misery he was in in Surry. His History was long, and sometimes so affecting, that Mrs. Gold was obliged to make frequent Use of her Handkerchief. She pity'd him because he was unfortunate, and he began to love her, because he saw she pity'd him.—When he had ended, a profound Silence en­sued.

‘SINCE, said she, at last, your Heart is free, perhaps I may assist in setting your Mind at Ease.— I thing I know a Lady [Page 71] who has Power, and Inclination equal to it. Will you give me Leave to try my Skill? Permit me, Madam, said Jack, to return my most humble Acknowledge­ments for your Goodness; but as you have required my Sincerity, I shall still continue it, and with that honest Free­dom your good Sense will excuse. I have no Objections, Madam, to Matri­mony, and have a certain Constancy in my Nature, that might make me a good Husband; but I cannot answer for my Temper, if I did not most affectionately love my Wife. To have that Love, I must know her, I must converse with her; I must first admire her Virtues, and esteem her Understanding. This, Madam, is not the Work of a Week, or a Month; and to marry otherwise, there is a Possi­bility of being happy, but the Chances are infinitely against me. True, I may be made rich, but an hundred to one I may be made wretched.

‘YOUR Reasons, said Mrs. Gold, are very just; yet I believe you will al­low there are some Exceptions, neither do I want any personal Compliment when I ask you, if a Woman of Fortune, and every-way like me, could please you?— Madam,—said Jack,—I—I—really know [Page 72] not how or what to answer.’ She saw him confused, and added,—‘I shall make it plainer. Suppose for Argument-Sake, I should have such a Notion in my Head, —Do you think you could truly and sincerely regard me?' Regard you, Ma­dam, reply'd Conyers,— 'Yes, on my Soul, I should for ever regard, love and adore you! — But, dear Madam, why do you take Pleasure in tormenting so poor an Animal? — Why do you question me like a Prisoner on the Rack, and make me confess, what my Safety obliges me to hide?—'But I have done, and can scarcely hope your Pardon, for what I've already said.'—'Mr. Conyers, said she, with a bashful Air, I not only pardon, but shall endeavour to mitigate your Anxieties. I have seen and examin'd your Conduct; I have view'd your Actions; I have read your Heart, and, I think, have discover'd in you a Soul incapable of Meanness or Falshood.—Though you have no Fortune, I have often thought you deserv'd one. — I speak to your Under­standing, and am not afraid of being censur'd by it. Let the lucrative World run after Wealth. It has pleas'd Heaven to indulge me with enough to make too rational Creatures happy. Should you be [Page 73] of the same Opinion, the little Share I can give, is freely at your Service.’

SHE hung down her Head, and impa­tiently waited a Reply.—Conyers gaz'd— his Eyes were fix'd, and his Mouth could only seem to speak. At length he rose up, and throwing aside all Consideration, embrac'd Mrs. Gold in so tender, so ardent a Manner, that convinc'd her of his Sin­cerity, beyond the Utterance of a thousand Words, and vain Speeches. ‘Confess, said she, that I have acted like a Woman of Courage, by making the first Attack; I wish my Prudence be not more suspected.' Tho', said Conyers, the World will talk, yet, believe me, I shall give them such a Subject, that our Love and Harmony shall be rather envy'd than imitated. — Give me Leave to call you my dearest Life, and to assure you, without Vanity, that you entirely possess an Heart free from Flattery, Art, or Deceit. Oh! make me once more happy, and say you will be mine.' Mr. Conyers, said she, there is my Hand. My Heart you have already. But, no more. You have my Promise, and rely on it.' 'Dear Madam, said Conyers, let me not seem too impatient, by asking when?' 'Be satisfied, said she, it shall not be long, for I hope soon [Page 74] to bring my Brother and Sister into my Scheme; but I beg your Silence till then.’

CONYERS promis'd to be directed by her; and Supper being serv'd, a different Conversation began. However it was once more renew'd, and many tender and affec­tionate Expressions, the Eloquence of un­disguis'd Passion, were mutually given and receiv'd, till Time, with hasty Steps ap­proach'd the Hour of Twelve.—With some Difficulty they parted.—He soon retir'd to Bed, but not to Rest, for Mrs. Gold had murder'd Sleep.

'TWOULD be tedious to mention the Method she took to open this Affair to her Sister. She was her own Mistress, but still wanted a Sanction. No doubt the Reader will imagine the Surprize of the Family, and he must likewise imagine the many Arguments on both Sides, before Mrs. Sampson, and her Husband, consent­ed, which at last they did. The Truth is, Mrs. Gold, like most of the World, ask'd Advice, but was determin'd to follow her own. There was no Necessity for a Set­tlement, but a small Writing was drawn in Favour of Children, on Failure of which, the longest Liver took all, except Five thou­sand Pounds, which each had a Power to bequeath by Will.

[Page 75]THUS all Matters being adjusted, the Day was fix'd, and Doctor St. Amour ac­quainted with it, who provided a proper Place at Putney, where he met the Com­pany. The good Man loaded Jack with Caresses and Compliments, and felicitated Mrs. Gold on her happy Choice. ‘I must, Madam, said he, admire, and shall for ever admire your Judgment and Under­standing, that could discover Virtue and Honour under the Cloud of Poverty; dis­pel the Mist, and take it to your Arms.’ —He made a very pathetick Discourse, but his Conclusion was infinitely pleasing to Mr. Conyers, and, perhaps, not less so to Mrs. Gold, for he join'd their Hands, and, ending his Part of the Ceremony, bless'd the Happy Pair, and left them to finish the Remainder.


Grant me the social Joys of Life
In easy, Converse, free from Strife;
Not wrangling for an empty Name,
But raising Virtue into Fame.
Not, with vile Breath, abuse the Great,
And prate, because I dare to prate;
But, hear Instruction, or to give,
And Learn, or Teach, each Day I live.

THE Generality of the World regard the Actions of Men, but according to the Event. A prosperous Villain may be internally despised, tho' his Wealth and Grandeur will be outwardly admir'd, and even envy'd.—Praise is sacrificed to poor and indigent Virtue, but every other Re­ward is too frequently neglected. The wise Man of Old tells us, That Time and Chance happeneth unto all Men.—When Mis­fortunes and Calamities attack us, the World is so good to pity, but at the same Time, impute the Unhappiness to a Want of pro­per Conduct, and to a Multitude of Errors. —When Affluence pours in, and Plenty sur­rounds [Page 77] us, they admire the Judgment, and applaud the Understanding. —Thus, the Wretched and Miserable tax Providence with Partiality, but the Happy and Successful, attribute all to their own Prudence and su­perior Merit.

OUR Friend Mr. Conyers could not avoid some few Compliments to his Person and Abilities, as they were the Motives of his Advancement; but when he reflected on the Goodness of his Wife in noticing and rewarding them so amply, he discover'd, that they proceeded from a superior Cause, which, as it reach'd above his Comprehen­sion, he could only wonder at, and, by praising the Giver, make Returns of Love and Gra­titude to the Instrument.—By reasoning thus, and lowering his own Value as much as he heighten'd the Goodness of Providence, his Mind became more calm, and his Heart less liable to Vanity. He was not too elate, or puff'd up; for, by regarding his Wife more than her Fortune, the World was compell'd to believe he deserv'd both.— Never was Woman more happy than Mrs. Conyers, and never could a Husband take more Pains to oblige a Wife. ENVY saw this, but hid her Head.—MALICE, with squinting Eye, and jibing Tongue, look'd and spoke in vain. JEALOUSY and vile [Page 78] INSINUATION found their Arrows blunted, or sticking in the Shield of right Under­standing. The Fabrick was so firmly fix'd on Honour and Good Sense, that the Decay of Nature could alone sap the Foundation.

MR. CONYERS still assisted his Brother Sampson, and having got in most of his Debts, and settled all his Affairs, proposed, at the Request of his Wife, to retire to the Country. They agreed to live in a small Town near their Estate, and having pro­vided every Houshold Necessary, and a good Collection of Books, they quitted the noisy City, for the Peace, Tranquillity and Joys of a Rural Life. He now found him­self possess'd of above Twelve Hundred Pounds a Year, and, calling to his Me­mory the Conduct of Lord Truegood, re­solved, as near as possible, to follow the Example of so worthy a Nobleman. Like a prudent General, he plann'd out his Operations; he collected his Forces, and assign'd to each Part a just Proportion. His Distribution was exact; but Mrs. Conyers changed it a little, by making him sensible, that his Scheme had not provided for Sickness, and many other Accidents they were liable to. ‘Let us, my Dear, said she, live as genteely as you please; But where is the absolute Necessity of [Page 79] spending our whole Income? My Ad­vice is, to save at least Three hundred Pounds a Year, to answer Contingencies, and assist a worthy Friend on Occasion; neither do I see how we can well lay out the Remainder. My Life, said Jack; you are quite in the Right; then be it so: It is but striking out these two ex­traordinary Horses, a Servant, one Dish a Day, something from the Wine, and a little from the Allowance of Cloaths and pleasurable Expences, and the Affair is just as you desire.’

THE Behaviour of this Family soon ac­quired the Esteem and Respect of the neighbouring Gentlemen and Ladies. Par­ticular Friendships were form'd, and a charming Society enlivened every Amuse­ment.—Some Gentlemen met twice a Week at the best Inn in the Town, to benefit the House, and keep up a proper Interest, and our Friend was soon invited to be of the Number. It will not be amiss to mention some of this good Company.

SIR John Dobson, and old Colonel Manly, were the principal. The Knight had been Member for the County in three Parliaments, as the Colonel had been for the Town for almost Forty Years. Mr. Leatherhead, Mr. Ash, Doctor Grace, who was Minister of the [Page 80] Parish, and Mr. Conyers, made six constant Companions. Our Ladies were happy with Mrs. Grace and Family, and with Miss Lucy Manly the Daughter of the Colonel, now a most amiable Girl of Seventeen Years of Age. Her Wit and Understand­ing, with her tender and compassionate Heart, made her the Joy of her Friends. No Wonder the Colonel was extremely fond, for she was the Child of his Age, and his only one. He spoke with Plea­sure of the vast Fortune he intended to leave her, and often said, he almost envy'd the happy Man to whose Lot she fell.

WITH great Care and Attention have I examined the original Memoirs of this His­tory, but unfortunately found not the least Hint of Amours, or, as it is called, the Gallantry of Mr. Conyers, during his Resi­dence in the Country. This must certain­ly be a tedious Time to a Reader of Genius, who expects at every Page, a well or ill-contrived Intrigue, or somewhat wonderful or surprising to raise his Imagination, and keep up his Attention.—Tho' I cannot answer these valuable Ends, I cannot pass in Silence this Space, as my Materials are large, but must supply the Want of extra­ordinary Adventures in this seeming State of Inactivity, with the Substance of the [Page 81] most interesting Subjects, that made their Evenings pass usefully and agreeably away.

IN doing this I shall stick to my usual Brevity, and trespass as little as possible on the Patience of the Good-natur'd. I shall not summon them to every Assembly, but vary the Subject by an Asterism, (*) and avoid that Sort of Connection that might pin me down to Form and Ceremonies.

* * *

IN our last Argument, said Mr. Co­nyers, Sir John gave us a long Dissertation on the Liberty of the Press. I think we all agreed to the Usefulness of it in ge­neral, and to the Danger of suppressing any Part; yet I cannot help thinking it a little hard, that a Person shall have it in his Power to make a Man ridiculous whenever he pleases to imagine he does Wrong. What are most of our Pamph­lets and News Papers stuff'd with, but Encomiums on those out of Place, and scur­rilous Reflections on those in?—Were we to shift the Scene, would not the new Ministry be abused like the former, and perhaps, by the same Writers? I do not pretend to be a Politician, but believe, many who do are just as ignorant as I am. Every Man who spells, may write Satyr, that is, may write maliciously, as it [Page 80] [...] [Page 81] [...] [Page 82] requires little or no Genius; but to write with Truth, Candour, and Impartiality, to have Judgment sufficient to point out real Errors, but Humanity and Good-nature not to strike at Persons and Characters, is not given to every Man.

I GRANT you, said Sir John, some make an ill Use of Liberty, and leap beyond the Bounds; if they go too far, the Law is open, and to the Law we must leave them. 'Tis very true, said Mr. Conyers, but they have found out a jesuitical Way of evading even the best Law. Here are a Parcel of Pamphlets and News-Papers (which he threw on the Table) fill'd with initial Letters, Dashes, and Stars. Tho' we clearly see the Insolence and Treason, what Jury, as the Law now stands, can properly con­demn the Author or Printer to lose his Ears?'— 'Well, well, said Sir John, no Matter, let them scribble on, provided they do not oblige me to believe all their Impertinence.'—Men of Sense, Sir John, answer'd Conyers, will always think in that Manner, but how many honest well-meaning Gentlemen suffer themselves to be imposed on, merely for Want of due Attention. Perhaps some must write thus, or starve. In that Case, I sincerely [Page 83] pity them, yet I hope Mankind have not such vitiated Tastes, as to be delighted only with Scandal. Would a Writer fix on a Plan of Instruction.—Would he in­culcate the Fear of God, and Honour to the King — Would he endeavour to make us better Parents, better Children, and better Friends to Society—Would he employ his Time and Learning to persuade us to Unanimity, and not Discord and Con­fusion. Who amongst us—what honest Man, but would praise and applaud him? But to write from Principles of Envy and Ill-nature, and to sow those pestilent Seeds in the Minds of the Unwary, is certainly a Conduct that even Vice will condemn. To him who writes fluently and well, but with such Intentions, I shall only say what a noble Lord did of the Earl of Stafford, That God had given him Talents, but the Devil the Application.

WERE it possible, said the Doctor, to restrain the Liberty of the Press without endangering the Liberty of the People, I am convinced we should be much hap­pier and much more free from Squabbles and idle Disputes; but the Experiment is of too tender and delicate a Nature, to wish seeing it attempted, tho' I verily believe News-Writers and Pamphleteers [Page 84] are the Collectors of the fifth great Tax in the Kingdom.

* * *

—WHATEVER the Equity may be, said Sir John, I hope never to see a new Va­luation for a Land-Tax. Our Acres are pretty well charged already, so let them look elsewhere, if they want to raise more Money.—Yet, reply'd Mr. Conyers, all Taxes must at last center on Land.' I must beg Leave, reply'd the Doctor, to differ from you.— For Example: Sup­pose that a Duty was laid on the Expor­tation of our Nobility and Gentry, accord­ing to their Titles. How could such a Tax affect the Land?'— They travel for Health or Pleasure, and I think ought to pay Fifty or an Hundred Pounds to their own Country, for Permission to spend the Remainder of their Fortunes in another. Upon my Word, said Squire Ash, a very notable and reasonable Scheme! Then, continued the Doctor, if every Man, who accepted an Employment of One hundred Pounds a Year, was obliged to pay a Year's Salary to the State, and a propor­tionable Tax on the Commissioners of Land and Sea-Officers, would it not raise a large Sum, and how would it affect our Lands?— In Holland they have what [Page 85] is called a Collateral Tax, that is, the In­heriter of a Fortune in Land or Money, not descending to him in a direct Line, pays 2 ½ per Cent. to the State. When they sell Lands or Tenements, the Seller and Purchaser pay two or three per Cent. of the Value to the Government.—Thus, Gentlemen, it is plain, there are many Ways of raising Money, where Taxes, so far from raising our Manufactures, might be so managed, as to go infinitely cheaper to Foreign Markets.

I ASSURE you, cried Colonel Manly, I never thought my Friend Doctor Grace, had so calculating an Head, and I dare say, were the Ministry acquainted with his Genius, he would soon have Lawn Sleeves. I am so pleased with his Money Projects, that I must add one, which I wonder he forgot. For Example: Sup­pose all the Livings of the Clergy of Eng­land were to be new valued, and the Cler­gy who succeed, after a certain Day, were obliged to pay to the Government one Year of that Valuation by four equal Payments in four Years. Would not this likewise make a large Fund? And how would it affect our Lands? Permit me to explain my Scheme by Figures.

[Page 86]

'Doctor Grace has Church-Pre­ferments to above 500 l. a Year. I shall only charge450l.
Out of this I shall deduct, 'Full Land Tax at 4 s.90
'Two Curates — at most60
'Remainder clear to the Doctor, besides Marriage, Christening, and Burial Fees,300
 l. 450

Now, I would value these Livings but at Two Hundred Pounds a Year in the King's New Books, and where would be the mighty Injustice to oblige his Suc­cessor to pay that Sum in four Years? And how would it affect our Lands?' Were this Chamber, reply'd the Doctor, a Chamber of Parliament, I should vastly disappoint the Colonel, by heartily con­curring in such a Scheme, properly re­gulated, but I should certainly Vote for exempting the poor Clergy. Agreed, said the Colonel, so let it be resolved, that no Clergyman shall be liable to this New Duty, who has not One Hundred Pounds a Year clear of all Deductions.' 'Raillery apart, said Mr. Conyers, I sincerely think, [Page 87] somewhat of this Nature ought to be done, and the Clergy of France have set us very good Examples. The Wisdom of Government is best seen in the just Partition of Taxes. To charge them who are rich in this World, is true Policy, and to ease the poor Labourer, is equal to it. To lessen the Tax on the Consumption of the Poor, is, in Fact, an Advantage to the Rich, as all Manufactures and Workmanship must lessen in Proportion.

THE Doctor mention'd, said Sir John, something of poor Clergy. I am really asham'd to see so many, in such a Coun­try as England, who appear like Objects of Charity, and thought, that when QUEEN ANNE gave up her first Fruits to buy Glebe and Impropriated Tythes, they would all have comfortable Livings; but I am vastly disappointed, nor can I conceive why they are not in a better Situation.' 'All I know, reply'd the Doctor, is, that the Trustees for that useful Work have had the first Fruits and Tenths above Thirty Years. They have purchased many Glebes, and, I dare say, from their great Virtues and high Dignities, every Thing in their Power has been done for the Good of the CHURCH, If they have not added more to the Li­vings [Page 88] of poor Clergy, I must suppose they could get no more to purchase, or wanted a Fund.

FAR be it from me, said Mr. Conyers, to hint the least Reflection on the Ho­nour or Integrity of Gentlemen in such eminent Stations, but from what the Doctor has said, and from what I have heard on this Subject, I must conclude, that there has been no Misapplication of Money. On the contrary, I am in­form'd very little has been apply'd. If my Intelligence be true, a Capital, and the Interest of a Capital, has been suffer'd to accumulate to so mighty a Sum, that I am cautious to mention it. The Re­venue is certainly large, and should the Trustees not have found out Purchases, I see no Reason but that Twenty, Thirty, or Forty Pounds in Money, should be given annually to many poor Clergymen, which, I humbly apprehend, would fully answer the Intent of the charitable Donor. Whether the Trustees have expended their whole Fund, or whether they are enabled to support Twenty or Two Hundred Cler­gymen, I cannot positively assert; but sure I am, that as the Wisdom of the Legislature would not be less manifested by a fair and honest Enquiry into it; [Page 89] so I am equally satisfied, that the Integrity and Honour of the Trustees would be thus clearly demonstrated, and malevolent and clamorous Tongues silenced.

* * *

TRULY, Sir John, said the Doctor, I am sorry Matters were carried so far Yesterday. We had warm Words, very warm Words. In the Name of Good­ness, what had They or We to do in the Affair? If the French prevail over us, I am sorry for it, and pray God it may be otherwise. If we beat them, I re­joice and am thankful. But to argue, that some Things ought to have been done, and that others ought to have been undone, is certainly idle, for, I profess, I believe we know nothing of the Mat­ter.' 'Right, Right, said Sir John, but you know my Rule is, never to contra­dict or dispute about what I do not un­derstand, especially when I am convinc'd that my Antagonist is equally ignorant.

SUCH Disputants, said the Colonel, are the Plague of Society. The more they seem Gentlemen, the more Mischief they do, for, as they choose, and commonly herd but with People of inferior Capa­cities, they pass current for vast Geniuses, and are applauded for their mighty Un­derstandings. [Page 90] I have often laugh'd to hear a Company of honest Citizens, fighting over the very Battles I had been in, and minutely mentioning a thousand Circumstances that never did or could have happen'd, and have endeavour'd, and sometimes with Success, to put my good Countrymen right. I remember when I was a young Man, and return'd from the Campaign of 1707, when the Duke of Marlborough did not fight the French, I stroll'd into a City Coffee-house, where a young pert Soap-boiler was most eloquently displaying his Talents, and diverting his Audience with the Blunders and Misconduct of the Duke. — I own I was foolish enough to be provok'd, and long'd to chastize his Insolence. At last, the young Man to illustrate his Subject, chalk'd out two Lines on the Table.— Now, Gentlemen, said he, here lay the French,—and here the Allied Army, with this trifling River between them.—Now, (still pointing with his Finger) why the Devil the Duke did not cross the River, and beat the French Scoundrels, is past my Comprehension." — 'He was pro­ceeding, but I lost all Patience, for, stretching over my Cane, I gave his Fin­gers a pretty severe Rebuke.—He rose [Page 91] in Anger, and demanded a Reason, when I very coolly reply'd.—It was only to con­vince him, that in passing a River, an Army might receive a Rap over the Knuckles. The Laugh of the Company was on my Side, and the poor Soap-Boiler look'd mighty silly.

WHY there it is, said Sir John, an honest innocent Man can't speak his Mind freely, but up comes a Red Coat, and knocks him down. — The Colonel says, he was then young and foolish, but how many have we of the same Stamp, at this Day? — God help us! when we are to be govern'd, or, rather, controul'd by a Standing Army! — 'God help us, indeed, reply'd the Colonel, but for my Part, I promise you I will never live to see that Day.'—'That may be, answer'd 'Squire Ash; but really I can't help think­ing, some People are making large Strides towards it, and where it may end, Hea­ven knows! —Is't not a plain Case, they want to make us a military Government, by raising such an Army, and employ­ing them in a foolish War on the Con­tinent, where, every News Paper will tell you, we have not the least Business? — If we must have a War, and be blooded by Taxes, let us, a God's Name, give [Page 92] the Queen of Hungary her Belly-full of Money, but let us spare the Blood of Old England.

WELL said, Mr. Ash, reply'd Sir John, you speak my Sentiments, and, I be­lieve the Sentiments of every honest Man in Great Britain; but I am afraid all this mighty Hurry and Noise, and Expence of Blood and Treasure, is more on Account of some G— D—, than any Good intended to us. If they mean a real Advantage to England, let them send forth her Wooden Walls and scour the Ocean.—We may do some Good there, and let Europe fight on the Continent to Eternity, provided we keep them out of our own natural Territories; nay, the more they quarrel and knock one ano­ther's Brains out Abroad, the better it is for us at Home. Read our Annals, Colonel. They were glorious Times, when our honest Militia, headed by Coun­try Gentlemen, could step out and beat the French on their own Ground.' 'Pray, Sir, said the Colonel, what Business had these Country Gentlemen and gallant Militia in France? — 'Business! reply'd Sir John, —why, they went to conquer and keep the French at a Distance; and when they had conquer'd, to keep their Conquests. [Page 93] Had we not NORMANDY, AQUITAIN, ANJOU, and almost Half of France? Very true, answer'd the Colonel, and, as if it were done to shew us our Folly, a Woman drove this mighty Militia almost out of All.' 'Ay, said Mr. Conyers, and we were full as Glorious when we burnt this poor Woman for a Witch. Those, said the Doctor, were the Days of glorious Ignorance!' 'Had our Ancestors con­quer'd Part of France, or had Provinces descended by Right to our Kings, they were mad to pretend to keep them for the Good of England.—Had they erect­ed a Kingdom within that Kingdom, and given it an Head of Importance and Weight, they would have done wise­ly.' — 'Very well observ'd, cry'd Mr. Conyers; I fear the Church Militant will be too hard for Country Gentlemen.

I MUST beg your Patience, said Colo­nel Manly, for I have a few Words to offer, and hope I shall never be call'd on this Subject again.

THE Vicinity, said he, of Great Bri­tain and France, and the Rivalship in Glory and Trade, will ever make them natural Enemies to each other. The Views of France are as unbounded as Ambition. Our's are more confin'd, and [Page 94] rather lead us to checque the exorbitant Power of others, than to increase our own.

WHEN LEWIS the XIVth made War on the Dutch, and gave his GLORY for the Reason, it was the Height of true Glory to resist and checque such an unchristian Scheme; but unhappily, our CHARLES the Second was his Pen­sioner.

WHEN this mighty Lewis, contrary to Faith and solemn Treaties, gave SPAIN to his Grandson, our Interest joined to frustrate the Project; but when Charles our King of Spain became Head of the Empire, our Interest opposed his being Master of two such Monarchies, tho', perhaps, our Policy was unsound to suffer Spain to fall to any Branch of the House of BOURBON.

IN the present War, when France, in Violation of the most solemn Engagements, and in the Midst of profound Peace, at­tack'd the Empire; — when she had made the QUEEN of HUNGARY a Fugi­tive, even to the Subjects she, or her Family, had oppressed the most;—when she had near overturned the great Weight that kept her Ambition from trampling on the Neck of Europe, our Interest, our [Page 95] Happiness and our Honour compell'd us to join against her.—If our little Army in Flanders, was not so successful as we wish'd, they were led on with a noble Spirit, they fought like themselves, and retired from Numbers, rather fatigu'd than conquer'd. — We now know the TRUTH. We now know the Value of HANOVERIAN Troops, tho' Patriots, or rather Party, deprived us of 15,000, and made Lewis Triumph. We know how near the Few of our small Army, who fought, were of Routing the whole Strength of the Grand Monarch. —We know our Troops deserved, tho' they had not Victory.—We now praise their Valour, but the French do more.—They dread it.

IN the Name of GOD, How can our Government, or our General act? — If we had not sent Troops to Flanders to convince the World we were hearty in the Cause, and in some Measure, to persuade the Dutch into our Sentiments, what a Load of Scandal would have issued from the Press.? — If our General had tamely look'd on, and not attempted the Relief of TOURNAY, would not every scribling Fellow pour down from his Garret as much Abuse, as they now Honour him [Page 96] with for acting otherwise?—Oh! But we were repulsed at FONTENOY, and have lost Flanders.—What then?—If we argue from Consequences, we had best never Begin, because we can never End. — In War, as in Law, Trade, and every other human Project, it suffices, that the Mo­tive of Action was founded in Reason, Justice and Honour; but as to the Conse­quences, we must submit to the Disposer of all Things.

KING WILLIAM and Queen ANNE'S Wars had the same Rise. Perhaps that Glorious Monarch deserved as much Praise in his Defeats, as the Great Marlborough received for his Victories. The King did not escape Calumny: —Marlborough had his Share;— was disgraced, and even ex­iled for Conquering!

LET us cast our Eyes round Europe, even in Times of Peace, and shall we not find them all arm'd, and greatly arm'd;— and shall we supinely rest con­tent, and pay no Regard to our Safety? —Tho' some affect to call our Regi­ments a Standing Army, though the Whole is little more than a French Grand Guard, yet we dread from it the Loss of our Li­berty. — Thank God! I have a good Estate, but were our Army double their [Page 97] Numbers, I would not sell my Land for a Shilling less. — All Europe think our Property, consequently our Liberty, quite secure; otherwise they would never trust their Millions in our Funds.—This is the Touch-stone of our Credit and Character Abroad.—This is the Barometer of the State.—Whilst our Officers are Natives, whilst they are Men of Family and For­tune, and have their Share in the com­mon Blessing, I think I may positively pro­nounce our Liberty is safe.—Not to speak in too peremptory a Manner, I will al­low, that an Army, little or great, is a very useless, nay a dangerous Thing, without Experience and the strictest Disci­pline; but God forbid they should ever acquire that Experience in their own Country!—Since Experience is absolutely necessary, where ought they learn it but Abroad?

IN our private Capacities we must keep our Honour and preserve our Reputation, even sometimes at the Hazard of our Lives; but who would not hazard more, if possible, when his Property, his Family, and every Thing dear to him, are tram­pled upon! — A Nation, in this, is as a private Man.—We ought to acquire Re­putation, but be careful to keep it.—We [Page 98] must make ourselves respected, but, by good Conduct, preserve that Dignity.— We ought to love Peace, but by a con­stant Readiness for War, be able to main­tain the one with Honour, or pursue the other with Justice and Glory.

A WORD more, and I have done. I know what Sir John means by German Dominions. Without entring into what, perhaps, none of us rightly understands, I really imagine that a Monarch has some small Title to the natural Liberty of other Men, and may be allowed the same natural Inclinations. I am asham'd this Argument is so often thrown out.— Could I divest myself of the Duty I owe him as my Sovereign, I should still respect and honour his Justice and Valour, were he but a private Gentleman. Let us not, my Friends, foolishly and wantonly condemn, but let us rather endeavour to make his Life Happy and Content, whilst Heaven is pleased to spare him to us. Let us, as free Subjects, Love him, and imitate those, over whom he is Absolute by the Laws, but over whose Hearts, his Clemency and Uprightness has established a more absolute Sway.

SIR JOHN has given me the Text, but the Conclusion I must borrow from the [Page 99] Doctor.— From what has been said, God grant us a right Understanding, and that we may think on, and practise it, in our Life and Conversation.

AMEN, cry'd the Doctor, with all my Heart. I think the Colonel has given us an excellent Discourse, and very much open'd my Eyes.'—'I must own, said Sir John, we are a little too divided, and make great Drawbacks on our real Hap­piness, yet, perhaps, this Sort of Con­duct poises the Scale of Liberty, and pre­vents Power and Ambition destroying the Equilibre.

* * *

MR. CONYERS examin'd the Plan of France, as laid down by Mr. Villeneuf, in which he made many Alterations, and the next Evening's Conversation happening to turn on the Subject of the last, — ‘I beg, said he, to be permitted to add a Post­script to the Colonel's Lecture, and to carry you to the Fountain-head of, what I imagine, the Liberty of England.

WHOEVER, continued he, considers the Dominions of France, will imagine they ought not to think of enlarging their Boundaries beyond the Pyranees, the Alps, and the Rhine, as such Conquests would be rather expensive than serviceable.— [Page 100] Their Views, with regard to Commerce, have always been traversed by England and Holland.—The Forces they constantly keep up, prevent their being disturbed by their Neighbours on the Continent.— By the vast Sums they employ in Fo­reign Courts, besides their known Sub­sidies, they fortify themselves with the strongest Alliances.—As they have no­thing to fear at Home, they have but one Thing to wish for Abroad, to accom­plish all their Schemes.—Could the Au­strian Netherland be annexed to France, the grand Project would execute itself.

For this essential Conquest Treasures must be hoarded, Troops must be main­tain'd, and no Expence spared. When this finishing Blow can be once struck, France need not desire Universal Mo­narchy.—If she now maintains three hun­dred thousand Men, she will then content herself with a Quarter of that Number. —When Mistress of the ten Provinces of Flanders, the Dutch must act as she shall direct.—When assured no War can di­sturb her Frontiers, what Vessels will she not build!— How many Thousands will then be employ'd at Sea! and, who will she have to oppose her but England?— Their whole Force will then be center'd on the Ocean.— Cast your Eyes on the [Page 101] Map of Europe.—Will she not then have the whole Coast from Ostend to St. Jean de Luz, besides That in the Mediter­ranean?—She may then, without aiming at Universal Monarchy, guide, direct, and give Laws to every State in Europe, free from the Trouble of being Sovereign of it.—What would her Glory be, to have MONARCHS for her VASSALS!

IT is next to a mathematical Demonstra­tion, that this is the favourite Project of France. LEWIS the Fourteenth attempted it, and became formidable at Sea, even to the United Fleets of England and Hol­land, Great and Mighty as they were!— In all human Probability, Lewis had seen the End of his Wishes, had not KING WILLIAM and QUEEN ANNE glo­riously interposed and saved Europe. They cut him out such warm Work on the Continent, and obliged him so to waste the Blood and Treasure of his People, that his Sinews at last relaxed, his darling Marine was neglected, and his whole Force became little enough to defend the Heart of his Kingdom.

IF what I have said be not critically the Views of France, they have certainly Schemes of some Affinity to it.—In the present War they practised another Me­thod to arrive at the same End.—They [Page 102] attack'd the Empire. — Could they have cut off the Head, they knew the Limbs would fall of Course.

SUCH, Gentlemen, I apprehend, is the Fundamental Maxim of France. — To traverse and frustrate such a pernicious Project, Half our Blood and Treasure would be a cheap Purchase. — Our An­nals are sanguin'd with the Blood of Bri­tons slaughtered by Brother Britains.— They shew the horrid Devastation of Ci­vil War. — They point out the bloody Fields in England, Scotland and Ireland! —Wherefore all this, but to establish and preserve us in that Liberty we so happily enjoy, but of which some make unwor­thy Use! — If we have fought with, dethroned, and put our own Monarchs to Death, for infringing on our Liberties, What should we not do to avoid Servility being imposed on us by Foreign Tyranny? ULTIMA RATIO REGUM is the Motto of French Cannon.—If that be the last Ar­gument of the Most Christian Monarch, certainly it is our Duty and Business, as perfectly to understand that Logick.

NOTHING is so dangerous as to con­temn an Enemy, and nothing is so idle and vain as to despise and abuse the French.—On the contrary, we ought, and [Page 103] we have Reason, to dread their Power,— their Situation, and their Politicks.—If we mean to hand down to our Posterity, pure and undefiled, that sacred Liberty pur­chased by our Ancestors, let us rouze our Spirits, let us unite, and act like them!—But, if we mean to suffer that holy Light to be extinguish'd— to perish with our own frail Bodies, let us not only disband our trivial Land, but likewise our mighty naval Forces; for, except our utmost Strength be collected, and the De­signs of France render'd abortive, The ONE will be useless at Home, and, I will venture to prophesy, The OTHER will soon be over-match'd Abroad.

I SHALL conclude with the Words of King William, which ought to be engra­ven on the Hearts of every True English­man.' — "Let me conjure you, said that Glorious Monarch, to disappoint the only Hopes of our Enemies by your Unanimity. I have shewn, and will always shew, how desirous I am to be the Common Father of all my People; do you, in like Manner, lay aside Parties and Divisions; let there be no other Distinction heard of amongst us for the future, but of those who are for the PROTESTANT RELIGION, and the PRESENT ESTABLISHMENT, and of [Page 104] those who mean a POPISH PRINCE, and a FRENCH GOVERNMENT.

IT is not easy to paint the serious Coun­tenances of the Company. The Colonel lifted up his Eyes; Sir John and 'Squire Ash shook their Heads, the Doctor cry'd, Lord have Mercy upon us! but Mr. Leather­head was so affected, that he let fall his Pipe, and seem'd to neglect his favourite Tankard.

* * *

THE Conversation was on various Sub­jects, and at last fell on the Laws of Eng­land.—The Colonel own'd they were wise and wholesome; but declar'd, that the vast Delay and Chicanerie of the Practitioners was the greatest Burthen a Nation could groan under.— ‘Speedy Justice, said Mr. Conyers, is the Spirit and Essence of Laws both Civil and Criminal. A French Au­thor of Humour observes, "That the English are infinitely more tenacious of their Properties than their Lives; for, says he, Life or Death is generally de­cided in Twenty-four Hours; but Pro­perty, be it ever so trivial, may employ as many Years.’

MR. CONYERS was proceeding on the Subject, when the Terror of the Poor, in the Shape of John Clinch the Constable, [Page 105] enter'd the Room. — ‘Please your Wor­ships, said he, an't please you, there's Moll Stevens has gotten her Belly up, and so, an't please your Worships, as the Wench lays the Matter on Paddy Murphy the Irish Drawer below Stairs, I thoughten best to bring her before your Worships that she might swear it, for, please your Worships, that Irish Dog does a Power of Mischief in the Parish.' — 'Why, Friend, said the Colonel, we do not meet here for Business, but, however, let her come up. — When the Constable with­drew,—Give me Leave, Gentlemen, said the Doctor, to examine this Affair, and to beg of you to do exactly like me, for I want to try an Experiment.—They promis'd, and then enter'd the Constable, Moll Stevens, Paddy Murphy, the Master and Mistress of the House, and most of the Servants.’

THE Staff-Officer produc'd the Bible, and very learnedly began to open the Cause; but the Doctor stopp'd him saying, ‘Pray, Friend, hold your Peace: You have nothing to say in the Affair, and I charge you all to keep Silence.—Come hither, young Woman, said he, Don't tremble.—We shall do you no Harm.— You are here to swear to the Person who [Page 106] has greatly injur'd you in your Reputa­tion, and brought you into some Dis­grace.—Do you know, Child, the Na­ture of an Oath? — Poor Molly Stevens, with downcast Looks, and faultering Tongue, answer'd—Yes—Consider, young Woman, said the Doctor, that an Oath is the only Security between Man and Man. —Consider that an Oath is a solemn Affirmation in the Presence of Almighty God, that what we speak is the Truth, and stake our precious Souls on it.—Con­sider the Situation you are now in, and that you must, very speedily, be put to a Tryal, where your Life will be in Dan­ger.—To swear falsely, and, perhaps, in a few Days be called to Judgment, is a Thought that should make every Crea­ture tremble. — Consider seriously, my Child, that God will punish Sinners, there­fore, be certain of the Truth, and do not rashly risk your Soul, and add a Crime of the blackest Dye, to the Crime, that, by Repentance, God Almighty may for­give.—Be resolute, and say the Truth.’— Tears flow'd very plentifully down poor Molly's Cheeks; but the Doctor, taking off his Hat, and kneeling down, all the Com­pany did the same.—In this Posture, he gave her the Book, and administer'd the [Page 107] Oath in the most solemn Manner, and then rose up.—‘Now, Child, said he, you are bound to answer with Truth.—Is this young Man, whose Name is Patrick Mur­phy, the Father of the Child you now go with, or not?' — With many Sobbs and Tears she, at last, answered—No— Who then, said he, is the Father of it?’— She hesitated for some Time, and with great Difficulty, answer'd — John Clinch.‘Who was it, said the Doctor, that did advise, and would have persuaded you to swear falsely against Patrick Murphy. She answer'd — John Clinch. — Very well, said he, your Affair is finished — But for you, Mr. Constable, it is my Orders, that you find good Security by To-morrow Morning, for the Maintenance of the Child; and that you immediately pay One Gui­nea to Patrick Murphy, or I will have you indicted for Subornation of Perjury.

THE Constable, tho' vastly confounded, had so much Wit that he paid his Fine, and the extra Company withdrew, triumph­ing with Murphy, and applauding the Wis­dom of the Parson.—‘Doctor, said the Co­lonel, I wish you Joy, for if Perjury be a damning Sin, you have certainly, for this Bout, sav'd one poor Soul.'—'I have often thought, reply'd the Doctor, that we [Page 108] have not only multiply'd Oaths, and made them familiar, but that our com­mon Way of administring them, is an Inlet to the greatest of Evils, and sin­cerely wish, that all Justices of the Peace, and other Magistrates, would see it per­form'd in a more decent and Christian-like Manner.—Well, well, said Mr. Leather­head, tho'ff John Clinch be to Father the Child, I believe Irish Paddy has had a Finger in the Pye.—The Son of a Wh—re has a most swinging Brogue, and the Girls begin with Laughing, but he makes some of them Cry for all that. The Fel­low makes Love to my Wife's Maid, and I've a Letter of his'n in my Pocket. —Come, said the Colonel, now for an Irish Billet-doux.

My deer Sowl,

WHAT signifis making an Orasion and Palavar, for your one sweet Self no's how despratly i'm in Love with you. My poor I's karryd the Arrant oftin enuf, and your one deer Fese was after givin me a sivil Anser, for you simpurd upon me, and made my poor Hart gump for Joy. Now thees fuu Lines is to ashure my deer charmin Sally, that if she pleses to let me have a smal Confablation, I wil ley my Hart and [Page 109] Sowl at her Feet, and you may command me by Nite or by Dey for the precent Time, or my hole Life. If you breke my poor Hart I will love you; and when I am in my cowld Greve, my Gost wil attind you, and do you al the Sarvis I can. Ogh! my deer Sally, kepe my Hart allive, and you will find it beter then al the Gosts in England. No more at precent from your fethful and dyin


‘WELL said, Paddy! cry'd the Colonel, I assure you the young Rogue has got the Laconick Stile, and says a great deal in few Words. In spite of the Brogue on his Pen, you find he comes to the Point, and very likely will carry it.— That he won't, reply'd Mr. Leatherhead, for the Girl hates him, and abuses him all Day long.'—And yet, said Sir John, she may love him all Night.—There have been such Tricks.—'I am in Love, said Mr. Conyers, with this Irish Epistle; but I have one from a Shoemaker in London to my Farmer Tom Driver, whose Son is his Apprentice. As it is a Sample of low Londonshire English, I beg Leave to read it.’

Dear Friend,

THESE few Lines is to acquaint you, that your Son Tom is in good Health at this present Writing, and begins to han­dle his Hammer to some Tune, so that I hopes he'l be a clever Feller. He was in a strange Quandery at the many Fokes in this City, but that Matter is now all off. I'l say that for him, he's the most biggest Boy I ever see of's Age, and as strong as a Bruser: He fitt Will. Adz, the Cooper's Boy and soundly thrash'd his Jackett. He plays a rare Knife and Fork, but can't eat Weeal without Weeneger; but he's very fond of a few Broth. The poor Lad had a Mishap last Week, for he fell out at Wynder, and broke his Head against the Stone Postisses. I find he looks hard at the Wenches, so I fears, he won't be a Batchelder at the End of's Time. Our Friend Mr. Tabby, the Stay-Maker, is now a Wyder. No more from

your loving Frend, TOBY LIFT.

‘I DON'T see, said Mr. Leatherhead, why we should laugh at the Shoemaker be­cause he don't write so fine as a Parson; tho'ff he don't, he writes well enough, and he's an Englishman; But what a Plague have we to do with a Parcel of [Page 111] Irish, who take the Bread out of our Mouths, and debauch all our Women? Why don't we transport 'em back to their Bogs and Potato's; I'm sure 'twould be happy for us if Ireland was at the Bottom of the Sea.'—'No, no, said Sir John, not that neither; but I think we ought to give them no Trade, and make them pay some of our Taxes.' — 'That's an odd Maxim, Sir John, said the Colonel:—Now I should think, that the best Way to make them pay some of our Taxes, is to put them in a Condition to do it.— Should we keep them Poor, we may lay on Taxes, but how shall we collect them?—Where shall we find the Money? —'I shall not, said the Doctor, reason on the Prudence or Justice of England, be­cause, tho' Mr. Leatherhead forgets it, I was born in Ireland, and might be sus­pected of Partiality, but Mr. Conyers has a Letter, with some Account of that Kingdom, which, I own, gave me great Pleasure, because I sincerely love Great-Britain, and honour the King.' — 'The Account, said Mr. Conyers, that the Doc­tor has mentioned, is a Copy of a Let­ter from an English Gentleman, to a noble Lord, which fell into my Hands by Accident. If you think proper, it shall [Page 112] make Part of our Entertainment at next Meeting.’

* * *

THE Reader will please to remember, that Mr. Villeneuf gave Jack a Paper rela­ting to Ireland. This Paper Mr. Conyers altered, and threw into the Shape of the following Letter, which he read in his Place.

My Lord,

I HAVE now finished my Tour through this Kingdom. In my for­mer Letters I gave your Lordship some Account of Cities and Towns, but ra­ther as a Journal of my Travels, than a regular Description of the Country. I purpose now to speak of the Kingdom in general, and hope I have so much conquered my former unaccountable Pre­judices, as to be able to give your Lord­ship a short but true Idea of Ireland.

IT is of little Moment to argue, whe­ther this Country is claimed by England as a Conquest, or whether the Inhabi­tants threw themselves under its Pro­tection?—That the Irish fought against Queen Elizabeth, and were often in Arms, till entirely subdued by King William, is a Matter not to be wondered at, when [Page 113] we consider their Religion. —Erroneous as their Principles were, they certainly acted agreeable to them.—No doubt the Resistance they made, and the Blood they shed, struck that Sort of Horror and Hatred in our Ancestors, that is handed down to their Posterity, and makes, at this Day, Part of our Cha­racter.—When we speak of the People, we ought carefully to make a Distinction between Irish and Irish, that is, we ought to regard the Protestants of Ireland as ourselves, because, in Fact, they are our Brethren and our Children; and so to manage the poor Natives, who are mostly Papists, that by Clemency and good Usage we may wean them from ill Habits, and make them faithful and useful Sub­jects.

THE Settlements of our Ancestors in this Kingdom, and the Number of English that are daily fixing themselves in the Law, the Church, the Army, and in Civil Employments, must in Time make it a Protestant Country, and of the highest Importance to Great-Britain.— An Ac­quisition of Three Millions of Subjects, and above Ten Millions of good Acres, is not so trivial an Affair as some imagine.— If we have conquered this Kingdom, Who [Page 114] enjoys the Conquest but the Descendants of the English?—If true Policy requires Lenity and Encouragement to the Con­quered, undoubtedly the Conquerors, who settled on the Spot, have at least the same Title.—Wherefore did we conquer but to establish our Laws, our Religion, our Manners, and our Liberty, amongst a People who greatly wanted all, and to add Strength and Lustre, to the Throne of England?—It is true, my Lord, we are Masters of this Kingdom, but I am afraid we do not reap a Tenth of the Advantages it might procure us!

OUR whole Conduct favours too much of Monopoly. We argue from wrong Principles; for every Individual, regard­less of every other, measures the Hap­piness of the Kingdom but by his own private Interest. — Thus, a Cloathing Town complains dreadfully of the Decay of its Trade, without considering how much it increases in another.— Bristol is much out of Humour that the African and Slave-Trade is so considerably fall'n; but Bristol forgets to inform us, how greatly it flourishes at Liverpool.

PROVIDED Trade exists, 'tis indifferent to us, as a Nation, where it fixes; but I apprehend, the more Places it inhabits, [Page 115] the greater the Chance for its Increasing. —With regard to the Kingdom, I ap­plaud our Wisdom in promoting and en­couraging their Linen Manufacture.— Their Industry has brought this Branch to infinite perfection, which alone en­ables them to pay so great a Tax to Eng­land as Twelve Hundred Thousand Pounds a Year.—Your Lordship will be surprised at my Mentioning a Tax.—If the express Letter will not allow of the Term, the real Fact will justify it.—The Pensions and Employments on this Establishment, the large Fortunes spent in England, the great Importation of English Commodities, with other Articles that are exactly com­puted, will amount to that Sum, if not to more.

DID they want this Linen Trade, Eng­land, would want so much clear Profit, and Silesia, Hamburgh and Holland, enjoy the Sweets. Your Lordship therefore perceives, how much it is the Interest of England, to cherish and countenance this Branch. Should we neglect or clog it by partial Views, or unseasonable Parsi­mony, we should irrecoverably lose a Mine more valuable than that of Gold. Whilst we favour Ireland in this, it is but Just and Right we would be equally [Page 116] kind to our Brethren of Scotland. The Field is wide enough for both, and both ought to be supported by every Bounty we can bestow.

WHAT Laws have we not made, what Expence have we not been at, to prevent the Exportation of Irish Wooll into Fo­reign Nations! — Has it answered the End proposed?—I am sure it has not— The natural Consequence of our Prohi­bition is, that they send, it by Stealth into France, where they have a certain Vent.— Is this clandestine Trade practised in Eng­land?—I fear your Lordship cannot an­swer in the Negative.

IRELAND could do extremely well with­out French Wines; but I know not the Inconveniencies France would be drove to, had she not their Beef, their Tallow, Hides and Butter; but when we add Wooll, the Irish have a Profit in that Commodity; the French have a vast Gain, but the English are as certainly vast Losers.—Were your Lordship to examine strictly into the Truth, you would find that the grand Contest is not so much between England and Ireland, but between England and France. Your Lordship would then discover, that every Link we throw out to bind Ireland, not [Page 117] only curtails their Profits but our own, and, what is worse, transferring those Profits into the Arms of France.—Was this Matter seriously considered, and it is worth the Thoughts of the wisest amongst us, Abbeville would soon be a Desart, and the French obliged to recur to the old Method of buying our Stuffs.

AND here, my Lord, permit me to lay open a Piece of French Conduct, which is not generally known. Abbeville is a Royal Manufacture: To support which, Wooll must be obtained from England and Ireland at any Price, but the Manufacturers pay only the middle Price of England, and the King, that is, the Kingdom in general, pays the Re­mainder. By this Method, and by the Cheapness of Provisions, they are able to undersell us in foreign Markets.

AMONGST the many Schemes for re­straining Irish Wooll, I have met but with one that in any Degree can answer the End. — The Author proposes a large Bounty on the Exportation of Corn from Ireland.—This, says he, would certainly throw the Inhabitants into Tillage, and soon convert their Sheep Walks into Corn Fields, and all the People would be properly employed and supported.

[Page 118]WERE your Lordship to view the Southern and Western Coasts of this King­dom, you would be as much charmed with their Bays and Harbours, as astonish­ed to find them of such little Use.—Lit­tle to themselves, but less to England.— Were it possible to convince Gentlemen, that, let the Riches of Ireland be what it will, Nine Tenths would certainly center in England, I imagine they could not hesitate a Moment, but, by endeavour­ing to increase it, at the Expence of our Enemies, enable them, at last, to bear a Proportion, and to contribute to the Exi­gencies of the British Government.

THE common Opinion of the Laziness of the Irish, is not strictly Just. The Negroes in America have certainly more comfortable Dwellings, and are better fed than the poor Natives of this Coun­try. They are Strangers to Property, as well as Meat. With what Spirit would an English Plowman work under such Cir­cumstances? — I fancy not much better than the Irish.—If these poor People are Slothful and Inactive, their Food will ac­count for it, on the same Principles that Sir William Temple accounts for the pecu­liar Courage of the English.—No doubt, my Lord, but good Nourishment, good [Page 119] Cloaths, and decent Habitations, greatly Influence the Constitution of a Man, and give a Labourer that Vigour and Life so necessary to his Employment.—Your Lordship may ask, Why it is not so in Ireland? — The Error, I think, lies in the Generality of the Landlords. Here, a Man of large Fortune never sees his Estate, and will not be troubled with a Multiplicity of Tenants. — He lets the Whole to a few Gentlemen.—These, lett their Parts to others, reserving a certain Revenue to themselves.—These again do the same in a lower Degree, till, by pass­ing thro' a Dozen, or Twenty Hands, it sinks the real Occupiers into downright Misery and Wretchedness.—As a Man of some Humanity and Tenderness for my Fellow Creatures, I most heartily wish I could as easily Point out the Remedy, as shew the Disease.

NOTWITHSTANDING their own capital Errors, and many of ours, they seem to struggle through Difficulties with great Resignation and Patience. They spare no Pains to make it a Protestant King­dom, and most vigorously follow the Plan laid down, at a vast Expence, by Dr. HENRY MAUL, now Bishop of Meath, in educating the Children of the Natives [Page 120] in Labour, Industry and true Religion. Al­ready have they reclaimed Thousands of unhappy Creatures, and added them to the Stock of faithful Subjects.—If the Ro­mans granted a Civic Crown to him who saved one Citizen, what Triumphs, what Statues does not this truly Right Reve­rend Prelate deserve, for preserving such Multitudes!—The Reward of this World can be but Praise; the just Recompence can only be given in the other.—I inclose to your Lordship a full Account of this most noble and useful Charity, now found­ed on a Charter.

ONE rational Scheme produces others. —Their liberal Subscriptions for encou­raging Husbandry, Arts, Manufactures, and, in short, every Branch of Industry and useful Knowledge, betrays not an idle, inactive Spirit, and the Consequence is visible throughout the whole Kingdom. — I send your Lordship a List of Pre­miums for the present Year. Add this to the Account of the Charter Schools, and they give such a Proof of true Wisdom and Understanding, that I am not able to cite any Thing that even looks like a Parallel.

YOUR Lordship will not expect Enco­miums on the Papists of this Kingdom [Page 121] for their firm Attachment to a Protestant Government. No, my Lord, but they are quiet and amenable to it. As for the Protestants, I am convinced his Majesty has not more loyal and faithful Subjects.

THE Ridicule on the Irish Tone, or Manner of Speaking, is rather more ab­surd than barbarous. All Nations have that Folly. — The Parisians make very free with the Normans, Gascoigns, and other Provinces. — The People of Rome banter the common Venetian Dialect.— The Saxons despise the Tone of other Ger­man States. — All Germany laugh at the Low Dutch, and the Hollanders laugh as heartily at the Flemings.—Each Country in England make themselves merry at the Expence of another; but all England ri­dicule the Scotch, Welch and Irish, and these, I suppose, return the Compliment.— Thus we have all the lucky Faculty of finding Perfection in ourselves, and seeing the Contrary in our Neighbours.

WHATEVER might have been the Rea­son for holding the Irish in Contempt, even to Hatred, I can truly say, those Reasons must have long since ceased. They are now Members, and very useful Members to our Body, and are capable of being made infinitely more so. They [Page 122] are not, as some imagine, a Wen on the Neck of England, that disgraces our Form, and sucks up our natural Juices. No, my Lord; but as it certainly is in our Power to make them so, it is as cer­tain that we may and ought to render them a Strength and a Support to the British Government.

I CANNOT let slip an Opportunity of expressing my Gratitude for the many Civilities I have received in this Country. Hospitality is their Character. Indeed they a little exceed in the Article of Wine, especially in Brimmers, to the Cause of Liberty and our happy Constitution. Their Zeal is so fervent, that they for­get that the Wine they drink is of that Country that would destroy both.

LET us, my Lord, avoid all invi­dious Names and Distinctions, and rank them amongst the Errors of the Vulgar. Let us be just and faithful to each other. Let us learn Truth, Wisdom and Honour. These are not confined to the Torrid or Frigid Zone, neither can temperate Regions boast their peculiar Residence.

I am, with the greatest Respect, My Lord, &c.


Where, where, degen'rate Countrymen—how high,
Will your fond Folly and your Madness fly?
Are Scenes of Death, and servile Chains so dear
To sue for Blood and Bondage every Year,
Like Rebel Jews, with too much Freedom curst,
To court a Change,—tho' certain of the worst?

I AM afraid I have carried my Reader too far from the Subject-Matter of this History, and try'd his Patience; but I as­sure him that my Indulgence has been very great; for, at infinite Pains, I have cur­tail'd the last Chapter at least Sixty Pages. —Few know the Difficulty of Bridling the Imagination, and Reining back an hard-mouth'd Pen. It sometimes gets a-head, and, in Spite of all our Skill, runs away with us into Mire and Dirt; nay, this Mi­nute I find my Quill in a Humour to gal­lop, so shall stop him short in Time.

THUS we have seen the agreeable Man­ner Mr. Conyers pass'd away many Even­ings; and thus did he establish himself in [Page 124] the Affections of his Company, and in the Love of the Inhabitants, by many Acts of generous Charity. Colonel Manly, in par­ticular, held him in great Esteem, and carried his Friendship so far, as to promise his Interest with the Borough for a Seat in Parliament on the first Vacancy.

MR. CONYERS had now experienced perfect Happiness for above a Year.—He knew the great Secret of enjoying the good Things of this World, so as not to abuse them.—His Fortune, his faithful and agree­able Companion, his Family, and the Love and Respect of all, were the Rewards of his honest Intentions to all Mankind. In a Word, the Elements in him were so mix'd, that he deserv'd the honourable Title of a Man.— But this World is not made for permanent and lasting Joys! — His Happi­ness, Tranquillity, and every domestick Plea­sure, vanish'd in a Moment, and left him as awaken'd out of a Dream of Bliss.—He had a Prospect of an Increase to his Hap­piness, but the Disappointment added to his Pains.

MRS. CONYERS was near Lying-in, but an ignorant Servant Maid telling her a most frightful Story of the Rebellion, which had just then broke out, threw her into a Fit and violent Tremor, which brought [Page 125] on an improper Labour. She was deli­vered of a Boy, who died soon after, and in four Days the kind, the tender, the af­fectionate and agreeable Mrs. Conyers, fol­low'd her Child.

THE Distraction and real Grief of the Family and their Friends is not to be ex­press'd. Mr. Conyers bore this dreadful Stroke like a Man, but he felt it like a Man. His Exclamations were few, but his Sighs and the Throbbings of his Heart were without Number. His inky Coat was not the only Sign of Sorrow. The invo­luntary Tear, the Heavings of his Breast, and the Alteration of his Countenance, gave visible Marks of sincere Affliction.—Let me at once quit the melancholy Subject, and bring my Friend to a State of Mind a lit­tle more composed and resigned.—He as­sured Mr. and Mrs. Sampson of his con­stant Affection and Love, and that not­withstanding his dearest Wife had made no Will, he knew her Intention, and would fulfil it. Accordingly, new Writings were drawn, and he made them a Compliment of Three thousand Pounds.

HIS gloomy Countenance would have had a much longer Duration, had not the Re­bellion rous'd his Indignation. He thought his Duty to his Sovereign call'd him from [Page 126] Inaction, and the Love of his Country seem'd prior to every other Regard. To bestow hard Names on Rebels, and supinely to sigh at intestine War, he judg'd, was un­manly and imprudent. He had no Idea, that the Choice of Liberty or Slavery re­quir'd a Moment's Hesitation. Full of Freedom and Glory, he unbosom'd his Thoughts to the Colonel. — ‘My dear Friend, said this venerable but hearty old Gentleman, I must love you the more for this.—Yes, my dear Conyers, go — fight for your Country, and God Al­mighty preserve and give you Victory!— Did my great Age permit, I would be your Companion, and share in the Dan­ger.—I well remember, tho' then a Boy, the Insolence of a Popish Government. I remember the Seven Bishops in the Tower. —The Swarms of Friers in St. James's Park.— The Sham Liberty of Conscience, and a thousand other Enormities. — Young as I was, I follow'd my Father, and join'd the Prince of Orange.—I fought and bled for him and Liberty at the Boyne. —I fought for Liberty and KING GEORGE at Dumblain, and what Man, who has a Soul, and a Sense of our invaluable Bles­sings, but would venture, nay lay down his Life for them?— Now I am Old and Infirm, but my Heart is good, —indeed [Page 127] it is’—The poor Gentleman could pro­ceed no farther, for Tears choak'd his Words. Mr. Conyers was greatly affected, and said all in his Power to ease the Colo­nel's Heart.— ‘You must forgive, said the Colonel, the Weakness of an old Man.— I cannot help it.—But, when I think on Times past,—On the Danger our Consti­tution has, so often, been in, and the noble and successful Struggles we have made to defend it.—When I think on these Things, my Pulse forgets its Age, and beats as strong as in Youth.—Good God!—What is it we want!—Is there a reasonable Blessing that we do not, or may not enjoy! — Are we blind to our own Happiness, and can some, who call them­selves Protestants, even think of a Popish King but with Horror?—Can we be so stupid as not to see the old, the stale Trick of France? And must some of us always fall into so weak a Project?—Poor de­luded Men! But thank God, we have still Honour and Wisdom sufficient to con­vince them of their Errors.’

‘FROM my Soul I wish it, reply'd Mr. Conyers, neither have I the least Doubt. —For my Part, I am determin'd, and will immediately prepare for the Field.— I believe, said the Colonel, I can assist [Page 128] you.—Let me see—Ay—I have a Tent, and every Camp-Necessary, in good Or­der, for I frequently visit them to refresh my Memory. — These are your's, with two excellent Baggage Horses, and a Baw-Man that understands his Business. —Dear Sir, said Mr. Conyers, you have made me quite happy.—I am already in the Field. — Softly, softly, answer'd the Colonel, perhaps I may do somewhat more. I would not have you go with Irregulars, for it will not be so Satisfac­tory.—A Noble Duke is about raising a Regiment of HORSE.—He does me the Honour to rank me with his intimate Friends, and I will immediately send an Express, and write him such a Letter, that, perhaps, shall put you in a Light of Honour, and enable you to be really useful.—Mr. Conyers return'd him many Thanks, and he was exact to his Promise.

‘WE must now, said the Colonel, think of engaging a few good Volunteers to accompany you to the Regiment, in case you succeed. We must be busy, and go roundly to work.’ — In a few Days they fix'd on twenty young Fellows, mostly Sons of Tenants. — In a short Time the Colonel received a most polite and obli­ging Answer to his Letter. It concluded— [Page 129] ‘From the great Character you give Mr. Conyers, he cannot fail of being extremely agreeable. I am sorry I have but a Lieu­tenancy to offer him. Should this be ac­cepted of, I beg an Answer by Express, and that he would join the Regiment at ***** with all Speed, with whatever good Men he can pick up.’

‘LIEUTENANT Conyers, said the Colonel, I most heartily wish you Joy.—Now in­deed Matters put on a better Face, and you are equipp'd as you ought to be.— But, Bustle, Bustle.—Take Leave of the good People at Home; make your Will, and—To Horse and away.

TAKING Leave, was a Task he could wish to be excus'd, but it was impossible. Mr. Sampson was struck Dumb at the News, but his good Wife lost all Patience. She could not comprehend the Necessity of his going in Person, when he might by De­puty. She quoted many Examples of Gen­tlemen, of Fortunes infinitely superior to his, who contented themselves with paying a little Money, and drinking Success to the Cause.—‘Yes, yes, my Dear, said her Hus­band, they must be special good Subjects, who are only warm in the Cause, by the Quantity of Liquor they drink. I vio­lently suspect such Sort of People, and [Page 130] am not sorry to find my dear Brother of another Way of Thinking. I am only concern'd that such an unhappy Occa­sion should deprive us of his Company, and throw him into Danger; but I trust in God, he will return in Safety and with Victory.'—If he must go, reply'd Mrs. Sampson, I pray God to protect and shield him.’—The Conversation became more familiar, and by degrees he persuaded them to excuse the Ceremony of Parting, which would give Pain, and make him mise­rable.

WITH all imaginable Diligence he pre­pared for his Departure. He sent forward twenty-three Recruits under the Care of two of his Tenants. He left a Will with Dr. Grace, and a Power with Mr. Sampson to receive his Rents, and remitted Five Hundred Pounds to the Agent of the Re­giment, that he might draw on him as Occasions required. He concerted Mat­ters with the Colonel, and his Horses and Baggage filed off by Degrees to the next Town. He invited some Friends to Din­ner the next Day, which was Sunday; so the Family was sure of him for one Meal more. However, whilst they were at Church, the Colonel called in his Chariot and accompany'd him, where the Horses [Page 131] attended. The old Gentleman gave him a proper Letter to his Grace, and stay'd with him that Night. In the Morning he took a Soldier-like Farewell; saw him set out for the Regiment, and return'd in the Evening to give Mr. Sampson an Account of their Expedition.


Since great Examples justify Command,
Let glorious Acts more glorious Acts inspire,
And catch, from Breast to Breast, the noble Fire.

OUR Lieutenant soon arrived at the appointed Place, and found his Re­cruits in good Order. He was received with great Politeness, and presented with his Commission, and to all his Brother-Officers. The Regiment was near com­pleat, and only waited the General's Orders to march where the Service required. He was extremely pleased with this New Society, as he found the Officers were not only Gen­tlemen of Good Sense, but of considerable Fortunes. He readily joined in every Ex­pence that was proposed to make the Regi­ment [Page 132] live comfortably, and do Honour to the Cause.

IN about three Weeks he received a Let­ter from Colonel Manly, with some Books. The Letter is so concise, and so full of good Instruction, that I cannot avoid giving it a Place verbatim.

My very dear Friend,

I TAKE this first Opportunity of fulfilling my Promise, by laying be­fore you what my Age and Experience judge necessary for your Well-doing.

YOU are a Man of Property, and now enlisted to fight the Cause of Freedom, and of That MONARCH who has ever sup­ported it.—You are a Soldier. You are one of those on whom, under God, the Life and Liberty of this Nation depend. —Consider the Dignity of your Station.— Consider the mighty Trust reposed in you. Consider yourself, and it is scarcely possible you will err in your Conduct.

I AM positive as to your personal Cou­rage, for your Soul is humane and tender, and your Tongue is not a Bragart; but as your Behaviour in this new Scene of Life is what I am not so certain of, your Good-nature will excuse a little Advice, and attribute my Trite Maxims, more [Page 133] to the Warmth of my Friendship, than to any Occasion you may have for them.

TO be an Officer, there is no Necessity of being inspired with supernatural Ta­lents. Common Sense, and the Deportment of a Gentleman are sufficient. The Know­ledge of your Duty, and the Military Art, will come with Time and Experience; but a close Application to the Study is necessary.

THE Love of the Soldiers is the Hap­piness of an Officer; and to gain that Love, the Method is short and easy.— Pay and punish where due, but never strike. — Be free with your Men, but suffer them not to be too free with you. An haughty, over-bearing Temper, may in­deed inspire them with Fear, but never with Affection. Treat them as Men, and they will respect you as their Officer; but at the same Time, be careful that the Non-commission'd Officers act in the same Manner, and support their proper Au­thority, on which all Duty and Submission depends.

ENDEAVOUR, as much as possible, to keep your Men clean and decent; it gives Spirits, and prevents Drunkenness and Debauchery. — Drop in at their Meals, [Page 134] taste their Victuals, encourage them to keep good Messes, and reprove where you find them remiss.

BE assiduous to learn the Exercise of a Soldier, and keep your Men diligent at it, yet so as not to fatigue them unne­cessarily. See that they punctually obey your Commands, but be not too ri­gorous in trivial Matters. Believe me, the Men soon find out the Genius of their Officers, and will never impose or play Tricks, when they know they cannot do it with Impunity.

MAKE it a constant Rule to obey with Alacrity and Chearfulness every Order of your Superiors: Such a Conduct will add to your Reputation, and confirm your Character.

SLANDER and Scandal sometimes in­sinuate themselves into Camps, and too frequently attack the most Deserving. Let me beg of you to turn the deaf Ear to evil Report, and not be speedily pre­judiced against any Man, much less your Commanders.

IF an Officer need not have all the Wis­dom of a Privy-Counsellor, he ought, at least, to have that Part that enjoins Se­crecy. The Spanish Proverb is good:— In a closed Mouth no Flies enter.—Execute [Page 135] your Orders in Silence, and let not the most distant Hint, of the Conduct of the Army, escape from your Lips or your Pen. Should you know nothing parti­cular, your Words must be mere Con­jecture, and, in all Probability, quite wrong. Should a material Circumstance come to your Knowledge, what Infamy must follow your disclosing it!

COMPANY and Chearfulness are abso­lutely necessary, but to drink to Excess is inexcusable. The Lives of Thousands depend on the Sobriety of Officers.—How can a Drunkard guide Men truly, when his own Legs mutiny, and refuse his Com­mands?

BE charitable; be generous according to your Power; but seldom give Money to a Soldier. When you think proper to Reward or Encourage, there are other Ways infinitely more useful to them.

RISE early, and examine your Com­mand; keep them reasonably employ'd, and under the strictest Discipline; but let your own Example keep Pace with your Precepts. Have all your Affairs in so nice and exact an Order, as to be always ready to march at a Moment's Warning. All Men ought to accustom themselves [Page 136] to Regularity; but none requires it more than a Soldier.

YOUR natural good Temper will prevent your giving Offence to any One, and per­haps incline you to bear patiently those offered to you; but have a Care, and let what will be the Consequence, permit no Man to Taunt or Insult—Should the least Particle of Contempt fall on you, quit a Service, where you must do more Harm than Good.

WITH regard to your present Enemies, hold them not too cheap.—Speak of them as Men of an unhappy Education, led away by false Maxims, and prejudiced to erroneous Principles: They are, or ought to be, our Brethren.—Let your Humanity extend to them as far as Safety and Pru­dence will permit. If absolute and fatal Necessity compels you to strike, let the Sword fall from no other Motive but the General Good. — Let it be effectual, but instant. — In that unhappy Case drive every Womanish Weakness from your Heart, and consider, that too much Le­nity and Tenderness may be Cruelty to your Country.—The Action, or necessary Pursuit over, let Clemency and Compassion fill your Breast.—Should you conquer, be all Mildness and Charity. —Comfort the [Page 137] Prisoner; assist the wretched Wounded; speak Peace to despairing Souls, and, if possible, shew them the Joys of Freedom and Liberty.

But I have done, and discharged the Office annexed to Love and Friendship. If my Hints are useless to you, perhaps you may know those to whom they may be of Service.

I SEND you my old faithful Companion Monsieur de Feuquiere. Read him care­fully, for he is able to instruct. I like­wise send you Polibius, with the Annota­tions of Monsieur de Follard.

YOU find I am an old Fellow by my long-winded Tale; but I shall appear more so, when you consider I end, (where I ought to have begun) by recommend­ing to you the Service of God, and Obe­dience to his Ordinances. A Righteous and a Godly Life is the best Preparative for Death. Tho' all ought, yet none should be more ready to obey that Call than a Soldier.—His Life is every Instant, in a peculiar Manner, at Stake.—Think on this frequently, and your Duty to God and Man will certainly follow; and Man and the Almighty will reward you with Peace, Content and Happiness.—Into his Hands I resign you, and most fer­vently [Page 138] pray him to crown your Cause with Victory, and to continue his Mercy to this Land to latest Posterity.

I am, my dear Conyers, Your very affectionate and Very faithful Servant, JOSIAH MANLY.

MR. CONYERS was greatly pleased at the Sincerity and Goodness of the Colonel. He read his Letter many Times, and com­pared it with the Instructions of Mr. Kindly, with a determin'd Resolution of adhering to both as far as he was able. He read Feuquiere and Polibius with Pleasure, but Monsieur de la Colonie, and the Maxims of Turenne, afforded equal Instruction and De­light.


Whither, Oh! whither do you madly run,
The Sword unsheath'd, and impious War begun?
What Land, what Wave of boundless Nep­tune's Flood
Hath not been stain'd, alas! with British Blood;
Not that the Rival to the British Fame
Proud France, might tremble at the British Name,
Not that Iberia, tho' unskill'd in War,
In Chains should follow our triumphal Car;
But that Rome's Pontiff should his Vow enjoy,
And Britain, Suicide! herself destroy.
FRANCIS'S 7th Epode of Horace, alter'd.

WHY should I take up the Time of the Reader, by going minutely into the Conduct of the Rebels or our own. My Task is only relative to the private Character of Jack Connor, or Mr. Conyers. A Lawyer only speaks from his Brief, and in all those Pages on which this History is founded, I find little or no Traces of the Actions of the Times.—I own I met with [Page 140] a Paper, that I suppose serv'd as Memoran­dums and Hints to Mr. Conyers. It was dated like a Journal, but gave me little Insight into Affairs. I find the Words — They slipp'd by — We march'd to — Miss'd again — Slipp'd again — Men much harrass'd —Vastly oblig'd to London Subscription—The Inhabitants of ***** deserve Encouragement, but the City of ***** to be burnt.—Thank God we have got our Troops from Flanders. —The DUKE to command.—Our People in great Spirits.—Victory or Death.—Then fol­low'd in Capital Letters, CULLODEN 16th APRIL 1746. THEY WERE WEIGH'D IN THE BALLANCE, AND FOUND LIGHT.

WHEN he reflected on the happy Con­sequences of the Glorious Day.— When he considered, that Freedom, Liberty, Religion, and his Majesty's August Family were more firmly establish'd and confirmed to Great Britain.—That a full Period was put to Blood and Slaughter, and to that unnatural Monster, CIVIL WAR, his Heart exulted, and his Joy was extreme. — He very de­voutly returned his Acknowledgments to that Providence, which had so often and so signally preserved our invaluable Privi­leges, and had protected him in the Midst of so many Dangers.

[Page 141]HE wrote a particular Account of this Battle to Mr. Sampson and Colonel Manly. He vastly extoll'd the Skill and Judgment of the General, and the Valour of the Troops. In his Letter to the Colonel, he has these remarkable Words:

‘I THINK I see all England in a Joy next to Madness. All admire the Con­duct and Intrepidity of his Royal Highness. They cannot now find Words sufficient to express their Praises. But of you, who know the National Infirmity, give me Leave to ask, How long will this last? —Will they not soon be equally eager to strip him of his Laurels?—Will not Envy, Malice, and Disaffection soon endeavour to poison the Minds of the People, and blast the Reputation of Him, who ris­qued his own to preserve their Lives and Properties?—I fear he must expect such Treatment. I doubt our Gratitude, and most heartily wish, for the Honour of the Kingdom, that I may be deceived. This War, and the Danger of it is over, consequently the Instruments of Safety, will soon be sacrific'd to the Parsimony of their Purse, and every disbanded Sol­dier exposed to the Insults of every Pea­sant. — For my own Part, I so much admire the Military Virtues of my Leader, [Page 142] he shall command my Hand and my Heart, where-ever and as long as he judges proper.’

HE greatly commiserated the unfortu­nate Prisoners, now subject to the injured Laws of their Country. To avert the Pu­nishment due to such Crimes, was not in his Power; but to make them easy, and alleviate their Sorrows, was his daily Em­ployment.—He lay'd no Stress on Victory, as it is an uncertain Determination of Right or Wrong; but he argued in the gentlest Terms, and endeavour'd to convince them, from History, Reason, and Experience, that their Prejudices were ill founded. — That, they were Dupes to the Politicks of France, and acted like Children who disobey the best of Parents.—That as Criminal as they were, his Majesty was cloathed with Mercy, and advised an immediate Application to his Clemency.—He shewed them the Good­ness of the late King in 1715, and very judiciously referred them to the Memoirs of Marchal Villars, and many other French Books, for the opposite Conduct of Lewis the Fourteenth to his Protestant Subjects in the Cevennes, who had taken Arms merely to defend their Religion, not to dethrone their Monarch.—Such a Conduct made Mr. Conyers vastly beloved, and brought some, [Page 143] who were violent, to think with more Mo­deration. He greatly pity'd the poor Clans, as they were bred up in a blind and im­plicit Obedience to their Chiefs. He lament­ed those Gentlemen who acted from Con­science and Principle, but regarded those, as the most wicked of human Beings, whose only Motive was to fish in Troubled Waters.

NOT content with this Sort of Behaviour, he endeavoured to remove our own Preju­dices, and take off that Acrimony and Ill-nature, which some of us are too subject to.—He prov'd the Injustice and Cruelty of Branding a whole Kingdom, for the Faults of a Few. That, even those Few were fall'n Brethren, and erred in their Duty, but from their Zeal to mistaken Opinions. That most of them deserved our Pity more than our Anger. That, so far from perpetuating Animosity, all Encouragement and Regard should be shewn to the Good, and every Scheme set on Foot to convert the Bad.— Time and proper Management, would con­vince every Mortal, that, as a Union of Minds was our reciprocal Interest, so Love and Friendship would soon make us, the af­fectionate Children of an indulgent Parent.

HAPPY, thrice Happy should we be, if every Man reasoned like Mr. Conyers!Division and Envy and Malice and Madness would cease to distract and confound the [Page 144] real Beauty and Harmony of our most ex­cellent Constitution. — Were our Souls ce­mented by Love, Tenderness and Charity.— Did we take half the Pains to assist, as we do to destroy each other, what Joys would not this Land afford!—With what Respect would Foreign Nations behold us! — What Terror to our Enemies, and to the Disturbers of Europe!


Quoth Hudibras, the Case is clear,
As thou hast proved it by their Practice,
No Argument like Matter of Fact is;
And we are best of all led to
Mens Principles by what they do.

CERTAINLY it is almost Time to proceed to the personal Account of Lieutenant Conyers, but I must crave a little Indulgence for the following Chapter, and shall then follow him more closely.

AMONGST the Manuscripts so often men­tioned, I found one relative to the un­happy Subject of last Chapter. I suppose Mr. Conyers had seen some of the Declara­tions [Page 145] published by the Son of the Pretender, which induced him to form one by way of Parody, and by taking off the Mask shew the Picture in a full and just Light.—Whe­ther this Piece was published or not, I can­not learn, but to omit it in this its proper Place, would be unpardonable in a Faith­ful Historian; to which honourable Title I hope I have a Right.— The Paper runs thus.


By Command of our R—l F—; the Divine Permission of his Ho­liness the Pope; the Assistance of his Most Christian, and the good Wishes of his Most Catholick Majesty, aided and supported by the Alms and Prayers of all true Sons of the Church, we send this our Declaration to the People of England, Greeting.

You must be all convinced, that the unhappy Fate of our Grand-Father King James the Second, (of Glorious and Pious Memory) was owing to the Infi­delity and Cowardice of his Fleets and Armies.

[Page 146]AS your Cowardice and Infidelity were the Ruin and Subversion of our august House, we trust hat the same Principles are capable of restoring us to the Throne of our Ancestors.

TO obviate every Difficulty to these our just and laudable Purposes, we shall, by the Authority aforesaid, convince this Nation, that our Rule will be salutary, and extend to the Happiness of every Individual.

THE Riot and Habeas Corpus Acts are equally dangerous, and shall, with the Advice of Friends, be abrogated or sus­pended, until a Regulation can be made, and the Holy Inquisition introduced into the Kingdom.

AS the Grand and Petty Juries are the greatest Evils of Civil Government, they shall be abolished, and the Judges, whom we shall think proper to appoint, shall finally hear and determine all cri­minal Causes.

PROCESSES in Civil Affairs are most shamefully and abominably abused. The Decision of Property, as now managed, is a Matter that greatly affects our hu­mane Heart, and until a proper Method can be fixed on for abridging the Laws, we shall take the contested Lands or Property into our Care and Guardianship.

[Page 147]THE Insufficiency of the Statute and Common Law of England absolutely re­quire an Explaining and a Dispensing Power. We shall therefore, once more, establish a Star Chamber-court in its fullest Extent.

THE many Evils arising from Clan­destine Marriages is a Scandal to the Nation, and Ruin to many Thousand Families. To remedy which, we shall immediately erect a Court of Wards, as in the Days of our illustrious Ancestors.

THE Education of Youth is a Matter of the highest Importance. Our Vigi­lance shall watch over those mighty Se­minaries Oxford and Cambridge. Their Learning is too crampt and confined, but by the Assistance of Mandamuses, we shall throw in such Fellow Labourers from the Sorbonne and St. Omers, as will soon in­culcate our grand Design.

LIBERTY is the greatest Blessing Man can enjoy; but the Abuse of that Liberty the greatest Curse: To avoid the latter, and yet keep strictly to the former, it is our sincere and determin'd Resoluion, to indulge every Man in the peaceable and quiet Liberty of THINKING. Neverthe­less, tho' we would shew our great Mo­deration and Lenity, our true Intent and [Page 148] Meaning is, That should any Person pre­sume to do more than merely THINK, he shall not only incur our highest Dis­pleasure, but be delivered to the Ecclesi­astical Jurisdiction, over whom we do not pretend to have any Power, consequently the Door of our natural Clemency will be shut against him.

FROM our unbounded Charity to weak and tender Minds, and in Imitation of our illustrious Grandfather, (of blessed Memory) it is our firm Resolution to grant a plenary Indulgence and full Liberty of Conscience to all Sects and Religions whatsoever; that they shall exercise and enjoy all their respective Rites and Ce­remonies in the amplest Manner, until the true and infallible Church has taken Root, and spread its Branches, but no longer.

THE Liberty of the Press is an Abo­mination in the Sight of God and Man. Such Power in the Hands of Unbelievers and Hereticks, gave Rise to vile Writings and Infinity of Blasphemies against the most Highest; nay, it has dared to open its Mouth against the Majesty of Kings: — To contemn and make odious that great Bulwark of Monarchy, The ancient System of Divine, Hereditary and inde­feasible [Page 149] Right of Princes and Potentates; — To stir up the Rabble against that mild and peaceable Doctrine of Non-Resistance and Passive Obedience;—To un­dermine all the Ordinances of our Holy Mother Church; — To reproach us with Idolatry, Cruelty and Superstition; and above all, it has been so wicked, to set before the Vulgar and Ignorant the whole Works of the Prophets and Apostles, with­out the Aid of Hebrew or Greek, to the great Discouragement of Learning, and Increase of Impiety.—From a thorough Conviction of such horrid Practices we shall, in due Time, commission Thirty of our most able Ecclesiasticks to read and examine all Manuscripts, and licence such only to be printed, which they shall judge for the Honour of God, or our own Benefit.

AS no true Son of the Church can with Patience hear of the Havock and Devastation the House of TUDOR made of her Lands and Revenues, nor of the many Robberies and Impieties commit­ted in those barbarous Times against the Holy See, and the cloistered Saints whom God had so plentifully scattered over the Land, our Pious Intention is, so soon as Affairs will permit, to reinstate our Holy [Page 150] Mother Church into those Lands and Re­venues granted her by the Charity of good Christians. — By the Account fur­nished us by our Holy Father, it is with the greatest Joy we find, that we shall be enabled to present to the Labourers in the Vineyard of God, a comfortable and reasonable Subsistance, tho' it but a little exceeds Two Thirds of the Lands of the Kingdom.

IN fine, Let us conjure you by the Duty you owe God's Hereditary Vicegerent: By the Love of Peace and Tranquillity, and by the Honour of our supreme and infallible Judge, to hear and consider these our real and sincere Purposes, strip­ped of any the least Disguise.—Consider our Situation. — Regard our Sword!— Consider, That the Most Christian King is our Support; the Most Catholick our Helper; and those in the Mountains Assertors of our Right.—Let therefore no unsanctify'd Bishop preach you from your Duty, but remember the Happi­ness, the mighty Happiness we intend to bestow upon you, and be assured on the Faith of a Family who never forfeited their Word.— On the Faith of a Family, whose Virtues and Heroick Deeds are so fully recorded in your Histories, that we [Page 151] shall not only strictly perform the several Articles in this our gracious Declaration, but shall take all Occasions, and watch all Opportunities of leading you more and more to a State of Perfection here on Earth, and to a State of everlasting Bliss in the World to come. Given at —


Now, by the Foot, the flying Foot were slain;
Horse, trod by Horse, lay foaming on the Plain.
From the dry Fields, thick Clouds of Dust arise,
Shade the black Host, and intercept the Skies;
The brass-hoof'd Steeds tumultuous plunge and bound,
And the thick Thunder beats the lab'ring Ground. POPE'S Homer.

DOMESTICK Peace was once more established, and the late confused and distracted Kingdom now more sensibly felt the Joys of publick Tranquillity.

THE War with France still raged in Flanders, and required the Presence of those Troops, which a Rebellion had com­pelled [Page 152] to withdraw from their Allies, and the necessary Orders were dispatched for embarking sundry Corps. Mr. Conyers was presented to a Troop of Dragoons under these Orders. He now equipt himself in a much better Manner, and was so em­ployed, that he had not Time to visit his Friends; but contented himself with tender Letters to Mr. Sampson, Colonel Manly, and Doctor Grace.—When the Regiments were compleated, the final Orders were given, and Captain Conyers attended his Duty.

HE certainly observed a profound Si­lence on the Military Operations, for I only found some Orderly Books, written in his own Hand, which, undoubtedly, every Of­ficer ought to do.

FOR the Marches and Encampments of the Army, I must refer to the Gazettes of the Time.—As I ever consult the Ease of my Reader, he will not condemn my Si­lence, when he considers I have no Lights to guide either Him or myself into Affairs so much above our Knowledge.—However I must follow the Glimmerings I have, and pursue him through his Variety of Marches and foraging Parties, till I find him en­camped near Maestricht. I must attend him in crossing the Maese with the Army, [Page 153] and encamping in the Vicinity of the French, but, even to the Night before the last Battle, I have nothing particular to mention.—This Night, indeed, an Affair happened, which makes so material a Part of this History, that compels a Recital, tho' with my usual Brevity.

THE Captain had been ordered, with Detachments from other Regiments, on a Command to Venlo, for Forage. Disputes frequently happen on these Occasions, which the Commanding Officer must be extremely careful to prevent.—By an Of­ficer's insisting to be served out of his Tour, a Quarrel began: The Clamour was great; but the Captain running to the Spot, ex­erted his Authority, and directed the Fo­rage in the proper Channel. The Officer whose Name was Thornton, and a Lieute­nant of Dragoons, was much out of Hu­mour, and dropt some Words, as much as to say—Captain Conyers would not be al­ways at the Head of a Command!

THE Foraging being over, they return­ed to Maestricht, where the Captain found an Order, from the Adjutant-General, to join the Army as speedily as possible, after the Men and Horses were refreshed. He communicated this Order to the Officers of the Party, and directed them to join at [Page 154] the Port, precisely at Two o'Clock in the Morning. These Orders were given to the Men, and he invited the Officers to sup with him at the Helmet, and Lieutenant Thornton was of the Party. This Gentle­man was younger than Captain Conyers, but in his Size, and many other Respects, extremely resembled him. He had a very good Character in the Army, but was too apt to imagine an Affront where none was intended. As he was well liked for many good Qualities, this Fault was imputed to his Youth, and Want of Experience.

LIEUTENANT Thomas was likewise of the Company. He was an elderly, rough Sort of a Man, who, from a low Station, had, by Accident, arrived to this Rank. He was educated, and took his Degrees, in a Stable, and, forgetful of the Title he was honoured with by his Majesty's Com­mission, swore and talked as if still a Dra­goon.—This Gentleman began the Affair of the Forage, and seemed to think that Lieutenant Thornton had been injured.— ‘By the L—d, said he, if any Man had served me so, I'd have shewn him the Difference.—Sir, reply'd Mr. Thornton, I know as well as any Man, when I am ill used, and shall take a proper Time to explain myself.'— 'Sir, said the Captain, [Page 155] who began to be warm, I don't know the Meaning of all this; but should you imagine any ill Treatment, I beg you will shew the Manner, and you shall find me vastly ready to give you every Sa­tisfaction in my Power.— 'Spoke, cry'd Thomas, like a Gentleman, and a Man of Honour.' — Sir, said Thornton, since I must speak, I must tell you, I am a Gentleman of Family and Fortune, per­haps, superior to your self! You insult­ed me at Venlo; you stopt my Men in their Duty, in a rude and uncivil Man­ner. This, Sir, may injure my Charac­ter and Honour, and calls for immedi­ate Satisfaction.' — 'That's right, said Thomas, the present Time is always the best, therefore, my Advice is, to take a cool Turn on the Parade, and decide the Matter like Friends and Men of Ho­nour.—Thornton rose up, as did Captain Conyers.—The rest of the Company in­terposed, and contrary to all Mr. Thomas's Arguments, obliged them to sit down in Peace.

THE young Lieutenant was on fire, and the Captain almost as hot; but a little Re­flection brought him to his Reason.—Gen­tlemen, said the Captain, I am sorry for this Affair, and believe I can convince Mr. [Page 156] Thornton of a mistaken Point of Honour.‘By the L—d, said Thomas, your only best Way, is, by the Point of the Sword.’ —Sir! said the Captain, with a strong Em­phasis, Did I affront you, too?—‘No, Sir, said Thomas, not me.'— 'Then, Sir, re­ply'd the other, let me advise you, as you regard your Commission, or your Safety, no more to interfere in our Disputes.’Thomas bit his Lips, but, prudently held his Tongue.—Conyers turned to Mr. Thorn­ton, and said,— ‘You have desired Satis­faction, Sir, and it is my Duty to give it, but permit me first to say, I think you began at the wrong End. What Satisfaction could my Life have afforded you, or your Death have given me, your Family or Friends? — I hope we have had Time to reflect on the Consequences of too precipitate a Resolution.' — 'Sir, reply'd Thornton, the Honour of an Officer is a tender Point.' — 'I confess it, said the Captain, and therefore ought to be tenderly used.—No Satisfaction, Sir, can equal a Conviction of being in an Error. —Here, Sir, are the Orders I received, and submit to the Gentlemen present, if I exceeded them, or shewed the least Partiality.’—The Company agreed, that he could not avoid acting as he did; and [Page 157] he proceeded:‘As to your Family and Fortune, they are in this Case, quite out of the Question. I own, Sir, I was in an Hurry to prevent a Dispute; but if any Expressions of Rudeness or Incivi­lity escaped from me, I am sorry for it, and before these Gentlemen, most hear­tily ask your Pardon. This, Sir, I hope, is the rational and just Satisfaction one Gentleman ought to ask of another; if more is required, I must comply, tho' with Reluctance.’

ALL the Company, except Lieutenant Thomas, who was asleep, cryed out, — No Gentleman can desire more, and greatly praised Captain Conyers. — Mr. Thornton confessed his Error, excused himself for his Rash­ness, and begged that no more might be said about it.—The Captain, affectionately embracing him, wish'd for an Opportu­nity of shewing his Regard and Friend­ship.—‘What Pity it is, said he, that tri­vial and insignificant Words should raise our Anger, to the Destruction of our Peace and Happiness, and that Incendi­aries are not more severely punished.— Had not this good Company been more prudent than Two of us, and honester than a Third, One might, by this Time, have slept with his Fathers, and perhaps [Page 158] both. — But, come, Gentlemen, let us prepare for Duty where real Honour calls. Let us fight with the common Enemy, but never amongst ourselves. — One Bottle more and then.' — 'And then, said Mr. Thornton, have at the French. — They finished two Bottles with great Harmony, and often drank Success to the DUKE, and precisely at the Time appointed, marched out of Maestricht, and soon arrived at the Camp.

THIS proved a very busy Day, and made the small Village of LAWFELD Famous.— Those who desire an Account of the Bat­tle, must not apply to me, for my whole Attention is taken up with Capt. Conyers. — When our Dragoons were ordered to Charge, the Captain did singular Service. He rescued his Major, and a Lieutenant-Colonel of another Regiment.—He stop­ped several Parties who were driving to their Ruin, and directed them where to turn their Swords. — His Head and his Hands were at Work, and in short, as the French Memoir Writers phrase it, He per­formed Prodigies of Valour.—In the Midst of this, he saw Lieutenant Thornton, with the greatest Bravery, waging unequal War, for he was surrounded by three Cavaliers. —In an Instant, he flew to his Relief, and [Page 159] effectually took Care of one. By this Time Mr. Thornton was wounded in many Places, and on the Ground; the Captain received a violent Blow on his Head, and two Wounds on his left Shoulder. His Horse was shot, but he manfully defended the Body of his Friend on Foot. Finding the Foe encreased, he desired Quarters, and resigned his Sword to an Officer who had just come up.—At first he imagined Mr. Thornton was killed; but observing some Signs of Life, he persuaded some of the French to carry him to a Place of Safety, and was conducted along with him by the Officer, who was a Gentleman of great Humanity. All possible Care was taken of both; and, the Action over, they were sent to Tongres with other Prisoners.

THE Gentleman to whom he had sur­rendered, was the Marquis de Brissac, Co­lonel of a Regiment of Dragoons. His Politeness and good Manners, correspond­ed with his Quality. He daily visited the Captain, and procured him and Mr. Thorn­ton every Necessary.—The Lieutenant had been severely treated, having no less than seven Wounds in the Head, Shoulders, and Body. Two of them were dangerous, but his Youth and good Constitution surmount­ed the Difficulty. In three Weeks the Sur­geons [Page 160] declared him in a fair Way of Re­covery; but it would require great Time.

THE Marquis was extremely pleased, and expressed himself very genteely on the Occasion. He assured him, that assisting two such valiant Gentlemen was the highest Proof of his good Fortune.— ‘Tho' I was not, said he, a Witness of your Bravery, I am sure it must have been great, but the Courage of the Captain in defending you, is what I shall ever esteem and ad­mire him for. To his Valour you really owe your Life, more than to my En­deavours to save it.’

AS our two Prisoners recovered their Strength, the Marquis introduced them to the Duke d'Ayen, with other Officers of Family and Distinction, and every Polite­ness and Respect was paid them.— They had now their own Servants and Necessa­ries, and a Credit for Money. In two Months Capt. Conyers was in good Health, but his Left Arm was useless. He got Permission, on his Parole, to go to his Re­giment, but promised his Friend to return soon, and, if possible, go with him to Aix-la-Chapelle, which was necessary for both.

CAPTAIN Conyers was received with the greatest Joy by his Corps, and highly ho­noured by his Superiors. He spoke of [Page 161] Mr. Thornton in so noble a Manner, that the DUKE gave him a Troop of Dragoons, and Permission to both, to go to Aix, or where they thought proper, to establish their Healths. Capt. Thornton was extreme­ly sensible of the Bounty and Goodness of his Royal Highness, and affectionately em­bracing Conyers, called him his Father, Bro­ther and Preserver, and vow'd a perpetual Friendship. Capt. Conyers was not behind Hand, and promis'd to attend him, and, if possible, never to part.

AS soon as Capt. Thornton was able to travel, the Friends took their Leave of the Marquis de Brissac, the Duke d'Ayen, and others, in the politest Terms, and testified their Gratitude for all the Civilities recei­ved. Capt. Thornton could not think of going to Aix till he had paid his Duty to the Duke, and kissed that Hand which had so nobly rewarded his little Services. He met with a most gracious Reception, and in a few Days left the Camp.

CAPT. Thornton was the Second Son of Sir Roger Thornton, a Gentleman of large Fortune in Ireland and in Essex, and a Member of the House of Commons. He was about Twenty-four Years of Age, spoke French and Italian perfectly well, and understood Drawing, and those Branches [Page 162] of the Mathematicks, so necessary to every Officer who chooses to distinguish himself. Sir Roger allowed him Three Hundred Pounds a Year, but on this Occasion he very liberally supplied him. He wrote Capt. Conyers a most obliging Letter, for his Son had informed him of the Obliga­tions he lay under. The young Captain received many Letters from his Uncle the Earl of Mountworth, in which Mr. Conyers was always honourably mentioned.

CAPT. Thornton recovered very slowly, and Capt. Conyers's Arm proved much worse than was at first imagined. They stayed a long Time at Aix-la-Chapelle and Spa, and were determined to go to Eng­land; but the Peace being just signed, they changed their Resolution, and set out for France.


Of all the Virtues, Justice is the best;
Valour, without it, is a common Pest:
Pyrates and Thieves, too oft with Courage grac'd,
Shew us how ill that Virtue may be plac'd:
'Tis our Complexion makes us chaste or brave;
Justice from Reason, and from Heav'n we have:
All other Virtues dwell but in the Blood;
That in the Soul, and gives the Name of Good.

ON their Arrival at Paris, they hired very grand Apartments in the best Hotel. In a few Days they were prepared to visit the Marquis de Brissac and the Duke d'Ayen, who received them with Marks of the greatest Respect and Esteem. They were visited in Return, and soon made ac­quainted with the Families of the First Distinction. The Marquis recommended the ablest Surgeon, and they went on very successfully under his Care.

THEY had been about a Month at Paris, when one Day Capt. Conyers took it into [Page 164] his Head to dress himself as formerly, and dine at the old Ordinary. The People of the House immediately recollected him, and were much rejoiced at his Return— It seems Paris had greatly miss'd the English Guineas that so plentifully roll'd about be­fore the War, and now promised them­selves that my Lord Anglais would soon pay the Expence of all their Fireworks and Illuminations.—He found none of his for­mer Acquaintances at Table; but after Dinner he begg'd the good Woman would accept of a Pot of Coffee, and enquired after them.

‘MONSIEUR Maquereau, said she, had very bad Fortune at Play, and was so reduced, that for some Time he lived on the Women of the Town; but at last he got Religion into his Head, and went into La Trappe.—The Chevalier Fanfaron was very unlucky, for about a Year ago he died of his Wounds.'—I suppose, said Co­nyers, the Chevalier had an Affair of Ho­nour, and fell by it.' — 'All I know, said the Landlady, is, the Chevalier killed a Gentleman one Night on Pont-Neuf, and was so unfortunate as to be taken and broke Alive on the Wheel, at the Greve.'—'So much for the Chevalier, said the Captain, but you don't tell me [Page 165] a Word of my good Friend Monsieur Pensé. I hope no Accident has happened to him.'— 'Ah, poor Gentleman! said she, indeed, he is greatly to be pity'd. 'Tis now just two Years since the Archers got into his Lodgings, took him out of Bed, seized all his Papers and Effects, and carry'd them to the Bastile. God knows if he be dead or alive. Some­body said he was a Spy for the English, and so the poor good Man was ruined.’

THE Captain enquired for no more, but finished the Coffee, thank'd the good Wo­man, and went in a Hurry to his Lodg­ings. He was vastly moved at the Fate of Pensé, and determin'd to try his Interest to save him, if it was not too late.—He soon dress'd, and follow'd Captain Thorn­ton to the Marquis's, where he had dined. The Company were informed of the Morn­ing dishabillé and imputed it, and his long Stay, to some Affair of Gallantry, on which he was heartily railly'd. He railly'd in his Turn, and the Conversation fell into the usual Channel. The Duke d'Ayen came in soon after, and in a little Time the whole Company went to the Opera.

CAPTAIN Conyers took Care to place himself next to the Duke, and at last found an Opportunity of mentioning the Case of [Page 166] Pensé. He concluded with assuring his Lordship, that he held the Office of a Spy in the utmost Contempt: ‘But, said he, this unhappy Man has formerly render'd me more Services than I can ever repay; therefore I hope your Lordship will con­sider the Gratitude I owe, and grant a Favour to me, and not to him.'—'I pro­test, said the Duke, I never heard of this Man, but all in my Power you may command. I shall speak to my Father, (Marshal Noailles) and interest myself to the utmost. Should I succeed, you shall soon hear of it, but my Silence will con­vince you of the Impossibility.’

CONYERS pass'd four Days in great Anxiety, but the fifth he had a Visit from the Duke, who, after some Conversation, told him, his Friend was alive.— ‘Then, my Lord, said the Captain, so am I. This is a great Point gain'd; but I hope more remains.'— 'Yes, reply'd the Duke, I will not keep you longer in Suspence. The Marshal with some Difficulty, un­dertook the Cause, and I have brought you an Order to the Governor, to deliver Mr. Pensé and all his Effects, into your Hands, but with this Injunction, that he quits Paris in twenty-four Hours, and France in a Week.’—The Captain took [Page 167] the Order, and most heartily thank'd the Duke.— ‘I know not, said this Nobleman, how Pensé escaped, for he has been a most notorious Offender; but his Art was great, and by little Discoveries pro­tracted his Time so long, that I believe, at last, they were ashamed to hang him. —But I see you are impatient to be the Messenger of good News, and shall only add, that I expect you To-morrow at Dinner.’—He was in the highest Delight, and immediately drove to the Bastile, ac­companied by Capt. Thornton.

THE proper Compliments being paid to the Governor, the Captain mentioned Mr. Pensé, but was answer'd civilly, tho' in a cold unsatisfactory Manner.— ‘Sir, said the Captain, I believe I have a Paper in my Hand, that will convince you I am not here to ask impertinent Questions.’— When the Governor had read and care­fully examin'd the Order, he behaved quite in another Manner, and directed a Servant to call Mr. Pensé to him.—He spoke much of the poor Man, but seem'd to hint, that all Things consider'd, he had surprising good Fortune.—Pensé was conducted into the Chamber, but his Countenance was so changed, that his Friend scarcely knew him.—He bow'd and trembled. — A small [Page 168] Silence intervened, but, fixing his Eyes in­tently on Captain Conyers, and, at last, cre­diting their Evidence, he cry'd out.—It is he, and flew to his Arms. He hung on his Neck. He had not Words to testify his Amazement. He clasp'd him, and was in an Agony of Joy, till Tears moderated the Excess. He sobb'd, and ask'd broken Questions, every Moment embracing his Friend.—The Scene was very moving, nor could the Captain refrain the manly honest Tribute of a Tear.

THE Governor told Mr. Pensé, that he was at Liberty to go with the Gentlemen. That his Papers were sealed up, as was the Value of his Effects in a Box, which he might take with him; but gave him the Orders about quitting the Kingdom. — Mr. Pensé made many Compliments, but seem'd to wish he was out of the Walls, which Half an Hour saw done; and the Captain conducted him to his Lodgings.

AS his Time was to be short in Paris, they abridg'd a thousand Questions to each other, and reserved them for a more fa­vourable Opportunity, only the Captain mention'd the Situation he was in, as to Rank and Fortune, which gave the old Man a most sensible Pleasure. — They now ex­amin'd his Finances, and found he had a [Page 169] Remainder of six hundred Pounds Sterling. They debated on the Application of the Money, but found, that the mere Interest would by no Means afford him a decent Maintenance. — ‘My dear Friend, said Pensé, let me settle this Affair.— Take the Money, and allow me what you think proper, by way of Pension, during my Life.’—Be it so, reply'd the Captain, and immediately he drew up a little Instrument, and gave him a Letter to his Banker in London, to honour his Bills for twenty-five Pounds for every three Months.—Poor Pensé once more shed Tears, and could only add —You are too good, and I am too happy.

MANY Towns were proposed for his Residence, for to England he could not safely go, and the Captain fixed on Brussels as a cheap and agreeable Place. Matters being thus adjusted, they pass'd the Re­mainder of the Day to their mutual Sa­tisfaction; and next Morning Pensé bid Adieu to his faithful Friend, and took the Coach to Lisle, but not before the Cap­tain had obliged him to accept of Forty Pieces.

PERHAPS I ought to extol the Good­nature of Capt. Conyers: — To paint his Friendship in the brightest Colours, and to shew the Amiableness and Self-Satisfaction [Page 170] of a grateful Heart.—By so doing, should I not deprive my Reader of the Pleasure of doing it himself? — When I consult my own Ease, 'tis only with a View of indulging his Judgment.


— His curdling Blood forgot to glide;
Confusion on his fainting Vitals hung,
And fault'ring Accents flutter'd on his Tongue.

CAPT. Thornton was not yet quite cured; for his Wounds, by some lit­tle Irregularities, had frequently opened. Capt. Conyers was perfectly recover'd; and as his Regiment had been for some Time in England, he began to consider that his Duty required his Presence. Whilst he was preparing to attend it, he received a Letter that gave him Pain and Pleasure. In short, the Regiment was broke. He was now his own Master, and determin'd to stay with his Friend till he was quite fit to Travel.

[Page 171] ‘SINCE, said he, that I am now at full Liberty, and have an easy Fortune, ought I not to think on those Friends to whom I owe my very Being? Perhaps that dear good Man Mr. Kindly, or some of his Family may want my Assistance.— Perhaps I may be useful to the worthy Lord Truegood, or his charming Sons. Heavens! what a Joy must I not feel at contributing to their Satisfaction! What Pleasure will they not receive at seeing their little Jack completely happy! — Ought I not to think on my Mother? Ought I not to seek her out, and relieve her Distresses? and have I not neglected these Duties too long?’—Such Thoughts made him glow with alternate Shame and Pleasure, and determin'd him to visit Ire­land as soon as possible.

THE Captains pass'd their Time in Pa­ris in the most agreeable Manner, and were much respected by the Ladies. I find a few Hints that persuade me, they were not without Amusements of a delicate Nature; but as the Papers are silent as to the Parti­culars, so must I.

IT happen'd that Capt. Magragh of Lord Clare's Regiment, had lately taken Apart­ments in the same Hotel. This Gentleman thought it his Duty to pay his Respects to [Page 172] the two English Officers, and made them a very civil Visit. They received him in a polite Manner, and in an Hour's Conver­sation found out his Rank and his Charac­ter. He was of a lively Soldier-like Dis­position, and very communicative. His Father had quitted Ireland, and follow'd the Fortune of King James the Second. He was born in France, but spoke English with a prodigious Irish Accent, tho' he had ne­ver been in that Kingdom. He told them of the vast Estate his Father lost in Ire­land, and how near he was, the other Day, of recovering it. He spoke of the War in Germany and in Flanders, and gave them a History of his own Exploits. He men­tioned the Valour of the Irish, and without considering the French Policy, seem'd to glory in their being sent foremost on the most desperate Attacks. His Conversation, and the Oddity of his Language, was agree­able enough, and made our Friends desire a further Acquaintance.

IN a few Days he invited them to a gen­teel Supper, with two other Officers of the Irish Brigade. The Chat turn'd on War, and Capt. Magragh spoke very eloquently on Sieges and Battles, for he could really speak on little else.—One of the Officers, in a laughing Way, mention'd something of [Page 173] an unfortunate Expedition into Spain, which obliged the Captain to enlarge upon it. ‘Gentlemen, said he, I must tell you my fatal Story. You must know, that my Father's Brother, that is, my Uncle by the Father's Side, was a Merchant at Cadiz. He was as rich as a thousand Jews, and always promised to make me his Son and Heir, but — the Devil fire all Priests! About seventeen or eighteen Years ago, a Son of a Whore, one Fa­ther Kelly, came over from Ireland, and brought his Sister with him. She was the Widow of one Squire Connor, and young and handsome enough. What will you have of it, but my foolish Uncle got acquainted with this Father Kelly and his Sister, and by my own Sowle he married her. To be sure I wrote to my Uncle, and towld him what a Fool he was, and what a Rogue he was to cheat a Gentleman like me, and his own Flesh and Blood. The old Fellow was very saucy, and by my own Sowle I had a great Mind to go to Spain and beat his Coat. Well, Gentlemen, about two Years agon I got a Letter from a Friend at Cadiz, that my Uncle was growing sickly; so I took Post, thinking to make it up with him, but by my Sowle, I was [Page 174] late, for the old Teef hid himself under Ground. Now, will you believe it? The Devil take me, and I swear by him that made me, if the old Rogue left me a grey Groat. I spoke to Madam my Aunt, and towld her of my Journey, and my great Expences, and of the Wrong she did me, and the like, and only begg'd her to let us fairly divide the Money be­twixt us. The Lady began to laugh, but said, she had some Commiseration on me, and made some fine Speeches; but the Devil a Farthing would she give but four hundred Pistoles. I took the Money, and giving her a hearty Curse, wish'd her and her thirty thousand Pound at Hell.'—'You had hard Fortune, in­deed, said Capt. Thornton; but perhaps she may make you Amends some Time or other.' Sir, reply'd Magragh, I shall never trouble her no more. I am now a Captain in the first best Regiment in Eu­rope; I have the Cross of St. Lewis, which the King gave me, because I wouldn't be kill'd at Philipsbourg, and I have a Royal Donation of three hundred Livres a Year; so, my Dear, what do I want? I love my Friends, and my good Friends love me; and I vow to God, I am as happy as the King himself, God bless him. I [Page 175] love my Countrymen the Irish, and I love the English well enough, but Faith and Sowle, they are too hard upon us.’

CAPTAIN Thornton observ'd a peculiar Gravity in the Countenance of his Friend, and thought, by changing the Current of Conversation, to remove it. He try'd many Ways, but Conyers seem'd lost in Thought. His Silence gave a serious Turn to the Company, and they broke up much sooner than was intended.

NEXT Morning Captain Thornton had a very early Visit from Mr. Conyers, for he had not slept. — ‘My dear Thornton, said he, you must wonder at my Behaviour, but I insist on your Friendship, and beg you will not require an Explanation of the only Thing I cannot divulge.’Thornton imagin'd a Quarrel, and rose in a Hurry to stop his going out of the Room. His Friend could not forbear laughing at his serious Figure, but assur­ing him on his Honour, that a Quarrel was the least in his Thoughts, the other was pacify'd and returned to his Bed.—‘I am, said Conyers, in the oddest Situation, per­haps, ever Man was in. I am far from unhappy; but some Doubts and Anxi­eties so much torment me, that I cannot be at Peace till they are satisfy'd.' 'Dear [Page 176] Conyers, said the other, I hope you will indulge me with my Share of what gives you Uneasiness; I think I have a just Claim to it.—'I believe, reply'd Conyers, your Friendship is sincere; but my Case is of such a Nature, that as you cannot assist me, I must only desire your Pati­ence.’

HE revolv'd a thousand Projects to bring about his Affair in the properest Manner. He remember'd Father Kelly, and call'd back every Circumstance of his Childhood so clearly, that he had not the least Doubt but Mrs. Magragh was his Mother.—He reflected on her Features, and brought her Face familiar to his Imagination. He own'd she had not been the tenderest of Parents, but Nature spoke, and threw her Faults into the most favourable Light. He ardently wish'd to embrace her, and, as his filial Affection arose, the tender Tear fell down his Cheeks. The good, the hu­mane Heart, will not call this an unmanly Weakness. — The Sensations of his Soul were natural, and the result of an honest Mind. At last he determin'd on a Jour­ney to Cadiz, and went immediately to Mr. Waters, his Banker, for proper Let­ters.

[Page 177]WHILST he was speaking to this Gen­tleman on the necessary Credit he might want, he took an Opportunity of asking him if he knew Mr. Magragh, who had been a Merchant at Cadiz. ‘Yes, Sir, reply'd Mr. Waters, extremely well, for he was my Correspondent many Years.' I hear, said the Captain, he has left a Widow, and should be glad to know if she be alive.' 'She was so, very lately, answer'd the Banker, for I have had Let­ters from her about some Effects remain­ing in my Hands. I assure you, she is a very notable Woman, and vastly rich.' As for her Riches, said Conyers, I have nothing to say; but you would much oblige me, by recommending me to her Notice and good Offices, in a friendly Manner; and likewise for another Let­ter, wherein you will please to mention me as her near Relation. This last I shall only make Use of, in case I find her really so.’ Mr. Waters very readily com­ply'd, and promis'd to be very secret in the Affair.

CAPTAIN Conyers was now much easier in his Mind, and the Alteration in his Conduct, gave a very sensible Pleasure to his Friend, but it was of short Duration, for he inform'd him, that he was oblig'd [Page 178] to set out immediately for Madrid, where his Stay should be as short as possible. Captain Thornton was oblig'd to acquiesce, and Preparations were made for his Jour­ney. The Marquis de Brissac was surpriz'd at the Project of Mr. Conyers, but got him Recommendatory Letters to the French Mi­nister, and advis'd his travelling with the King's Messenger, especially as he seem'd in Haste. — A Messenger was dispatch'd the Week following, who had Orders to take particular Care of the Captain.—He took a Servant with him, and, with some Reluctance, bid adieu to his Friends.


Now, by my Soul, and by these hoary Hairs,
I'm so o'erwhelm'd with Pleasure, that I feel
A later Spring within my wither'd Limbs,
That shoots me out again.
DRYDEN'S Don. Seb.

AN Account of a Journey, Post, must be very unsatisfactory to a Reader, and tire and fatigue him as much as the Traveller. I shall, therefore, avoid the dry, insipid Relation, and beg of him to suppose, that no Accident happen'd on the Road, and that our Captain got safe to Madrid in the usual Time. I shall omit the Civilities shew'd by the French Minister, who advis'd him, in the best Manner, for his further Journey to Cadiz. He was impatient to be there, and so am I.

ON his Arrival, he waited on Mr. Fitz­gerald, the Merchant, on whom he had a Credit. This Gentleman received him in the most courteous Manner, and insisted [Page 180] on his accepting an Apartment in his House. In a Day or two, Captain Conyers made an Enquiry about Mrs. Magragh, and mention'd a Letter he had for her. The Merchant told him, she was an inti­mate Friend, and offering to accompany him, they immediately paid her a Visit.— Judge, gentle Reader, the Emotions of his Soul, when Mr. Fitzgerald presented him to his Mother, for such she really was.— Tho' he was determin'd in his Conduct, and had put on every Resolution, yet he trembled and grew pale when he saluted her; but recovering himself, he attribu­ted his Tremor to the Fatigue of his Jour­ney, which was easily credited. Mrs. Ma­gragh read the Letter, and with great Po­liteness, assur'd him of her Respects, and Readiness to serve him. They din'd that Day at Mr. Fitzgerald's, and the Captain endeavour'd to make himself as agreeable as possible, and few Men could be more so. He observ'd, that every Body paid Mrs. Magragh a particular Respect; that she was vastly improved, and spoke with great Strength of Reason and Sense, tho' in her former Tone of Voice. Time had ad­ded a few Wrinkles to her Brow, but had taken away very little of the Beauty of [Page 181] her Complexion. — He frequently caught himself too earnestly looking at her, and very often met her Eyes.

NEXT Day the Company din'd at her House. Mirth and Good-humour abound­ed, and each strove who should add most. Mrs. Magragh shew'd a more than com­mon Civility to the Captain, and often re­peated, that he had much of the Air of a Gentleman who had been a very dear Friend to her and her Family. In a Word, she be­came familiar, which still made her more agreeable.

MR. FITZGERALD ask'd, when they got home, What he had done to the Widow? ‘For, said he, she told me in Spanish, that you had such a Face, and such a Voice, she could scarce keep her Eyes off of you. Faith, Captain, continued he, 'twould be very unkind to snap up one of our greatest Fortunes at so short a Warning, when she has held out half a Dozen re­gular Sieges. — Mrs. Fitzgerald a little raillied him, ‘But I assure you, said she, without a Jest, I never saw Mrs. Ma­gragh so free, and so pleas'd with a Gen­tleman in all my Life.’—The Captain laugh'd in his Turn, and each had some­what to say.

[Page 182]HE thought Matters were pretty ripe for an Explanation, and as Mrs. Magragh had given him a general Invitation, he de­termin'd on a Visit, and, if possible, to open the Scene. Next Morning he went to Breakfast with her, and was very kindly received. When the ordinary Chat was over, and her Maid had retir'd, he began to put his Scheme in Practice, but not without many Hesitations.—‘Madam, said he, I never thought to be so much be­holden to my Friend Mr. Waters, as I find I am, by being introduc'd to a Lady of your Merit, who has certainly afford­ed me more Joy than ever I expected to receive.' — 'This other Letter, Ma­dam, will a little help me in what I am to say.'—'She took the Letter, and very attentively read it, and her Eyes seem'd to examine him as carefully.'—'This Letter, Sir, said she, informs me, that you are my Relation. I cannot say the contrary, but I protest I am at a Loss how it can be. I own I have a very particular Regard for you on account of my Friend's hearty Recommendation.— I confess my Esteem for your Person and Behaviour, and as you appear a Gentleman, I should be sorry to change [Page 183] my Conduct, by your going on any er­roneous Project.' — 'Give me Leave, Madam, reply'd the Captain, to assure you on my Honour, I have no Views, other than paying the greatest Respect and Duty where I so naturally owe them.' — 'I should think myself, said she, extremely happy to have a Re­lation of your Character and Figure. Tho' I cannot imagine such a Thing possible, yet I own there is something that makes me wish it, therefore, I beg Sir, you will inform me, and doubt not but it will be to our mutual Satisfaction.’

‘IS it possible, Madam, said he, that twenty Years can have worn out all Re­membrance of my Face?—Can you for­get our wretched Situation on the Com­mon in Ireland?—Can my poor blind Fa­ther—'Stop, Sir, cry'd she, for Heaven's Sake! — I know not what to think! Good God! —Pray, have Patience, and let me recover my Breath.’—Her Agony was extreme, and he was oblig'd to sup­port her to the Window for Air. — ‘Gra­cious Heaven, said she at last, I dare not hope for such a Blessing, but let me be­seech you, Sir, to pull down your right Stocking.’ — He instantly obey'd, and [Page 184] when she discover'd a large Mole on his Leg, (which he had never observ'd) Yes! cry'd she, 'It is my dearest, my ill-us'd Son.' —Oh, Jack! — and clasping him in her Arms in Transport, was, for some Mo­ments depriv'd of every Sense. He em­brac'd her with the sincerest Affection, and, for a long While, neither could utter a Syllable.

ONCE more I must indulge the Imagi­nation of the kind Reader, and permit him to supply, from his own natural Stock, what mine is defective in.—Let him call forth every tender Idea. Let him think on the Affection of a Parent; on the Love of a Child, and, if he can, let him conceive the mighty Joy at recovering our long lost darling Hopes. Let him do this, and it is possible he may have some faint Idea of what this poor Woman felt. But to paint convulsive Motions, to mark the alternate Complexion, and to set down every drop­ping passionate Word, is not in the Power of Mr. Le Sage, Crebillon, Fielding, or even a Ch—t—f—d.—When the good-natur'd Rea­der has finish'd his private Reflections, I beg he will go one Step farther, and bring back the Mother and Son to their wonted Sense and Understanding.

[Page 185] ‘MY dearest Jack, said she, I have treat­ed you barbarously.—Indeed I have,— but I shall try to atone for all my Sins. God has been bountiful to you, and most merciful to me! — I have not merited his Goodness, but shall endeavour to de­serve his Favour.—I hope I shall.—But, my dear Jack, give me some Account of yourself. Tell me of all your Accidents; how you arriv'd to the honourable Sta­tion I see you in, and why your Name is Conyers.—Tell me all, my dear Child, and I shall most faithfully recount, tho' I blush for it, every Part of my Life since we parted.— Oh, my Son! Could you have known the Trouble, my Usage to you has given me, you would pity an unhappy Woman.—But, tell me, my dear Jack, can you forgive me?—I fear it is impossible.'—'My Conduct, said he, shall convince my dearest Mother, that I have forgot all Things, but my Duty and my Love.'—Then, said she, I am happy, and my Love shall reward you.—But no more now. — You must change your Quarters, and live with me.—Does Mr. Waters know you are my Son?'—'No, Madam, said the Captain, he knows no more than what I desir'd him to men­tion [Page 186] in his Letter.' — 'That's well, said she, neither is it necessary he should. I must not own you for my Son, as it would contradict what I have always re­ported, but you must be my Nephew, the Son of my Sister, which will suffici­ently warrant my Affection for you.’

THIS Matter being settled, they went together to Mr. Fitzgerald's. The Family were greatly surpris'd and pleas'd when Mrs. Magragh presented her Nephew. She told them the Method he took to discover himself, and all Compliments were made suitable to the Occasion. That Night he return'd to her House, and the whole Town visited and congratulated them.


An unseen Hand makes all our Moves:
And some are Great, and some are Small;
Some climb to Good, some from good Fortune fall;
Some wise Men, and some Fools we call;
Figures, alas! of Speech, for Destiny plays us all.

NO doubt Mrs. Magragh was impa­tient to hear the Story of her Son, and begg'd he would begin, and not omit the minutest Circumstances. He obey'd, and carried her through every Scene of his Life, except a few Parts not so fit for her to hear, and concluded, by his being a Captain of Dragoons; the Accident that brought him to the Knowledge of her be­ing alive, and how soon he determin'd to pay his Duty.—He did not mention his being on Half-Pay, lest she should have insisted on his staying at Cadiz, which he by no Means intended to do.—He recited all his Adventures in a full and clear Man­ner, and so pathetically worded his Suffer­ings, [Page 188] that she wept most bitterly, but, his good Fortune succeeding, a visible Joy spread over her Countenance. — She em­braced him a thousand Times, and blest God for restoring to her a Son, and a Son of such Prudence and so many Virtues.

Now, said she, my dear Jack, it is but just to recount my own History, and in­form you of some Things that you are a Stranger to.

SHE then began from her being a Ser­vant at Sir Roger Thornton's. — ‘In this Family, said she, I lived very happily. I was young, and tolerably handsome, and it pleased Sir Roger to think me more so than perhaps I really was. He made me Presents, seem'd very fond of me, was a mighty fine comely Gentleman; and, in short, overcome my foolish Weakness. I proved with Child, and he married me to Jerry Connor. You came into the World with that Name, but my dear Jack, your real Father was Sir Roger Thornton.'— 'More Wonders! cry'd her Son, — Is it possible! — She seem'd surprised at his Exclamations, but he inform'd her of his Intimacy with Captain Thornton, and of the Accident that brought on their great Friendship. She was vastly delighted with this In­cident, [Page 189] and charm'd to find Sir Roger was still alive.’

THIS obliged her to begin a little more particularly, and she continued her Ac­count to the Death of Jerry Connor, and the Parting with her Son.—As I have pla­ced all these Facts in the first Pages of this History, where I imagin'd they naturally came in, I must refer my Reader to them, and take up her Story where I dropt it.

THUS, said she, Father Kelly and I co­habited in a scandalous Manner; and the Proofs against us were so strong and so many, that he could not live in the Country. His Uncle the Bishop gave him a good Sum of Money, and a Let­ter to a Prior of a rich Convent in this City. He persuaded me to go with him, (and I had no Business to stay behind) but he would by no Means consent to my taking you. I was in the utmost Trouble, and could not think of parting with my Child for ever. At last he proposed sending you to his Brother's in the County of Galway, who would take care of your Education, and, at a certain Age, send you to Cadiz.—The barbarous Wretch laid the Scheme, and exposed you to perish on the Road. He was so [Page 190] cruel, that he never would give me the least Satisfaction, or let me know what he had done with you. I was too much depending on him to quarrel, and had no other Consolation but my frequent Tears.

WE embark'd at Cork in a Ship load­ed with Beef, Tallow, and Worsted Stuffs, and arrived safe at this Place. It was agreed I should pass for his Sister, and the Widow of one Mr. Connor of Clonmell. He went to the Convent, and deliver'd his Letter to Father Purcell the Prior, where I believe he was well received, for he return'd vastly pleased. He was soon in the Habit of his Order, and provided me a Lodging in a good Family, and made me dress in a very decent Man­ner.

I KNOW not how he managed with the Prior, but he gave me to understand, that I must call him my Uncle, and be extremely civil when he visited me, and next Day I had that Honour. Father Purcell, or rather my Uncle, was a comely, grave Man, of about Sixty, vastly polite, and courteous, and, seemingly, of a most religious Deportment. However, my pi­ous Brother soon hinted, that I was to be more than merely civil to him, if I ex­pected [Page 191] to be maintain'd.—What could I do?—I was compelled to forfeit my Ho­nour, that I might save my Reputation. In short, I comply'd, and my Brother and Uncle constantly visited me, and were mighty tender and affectionate Rela­tions.

YOU see, my dearest Jack, I hide not from you, even my own Shame.—How are the best Institutions perverted! but let us not condemn the Whole for the Wickedness of a Few.—Thus I lived for about four or five Months, and was visited by the best Families, and paid them in Return. I own I was not a fit Companion for People of Fortune; but as I could not converse in their Manner, I behaved with great Modesty and Silence. This procured me a general good Cha­racter, and made me pass for what I did not merit.

I HAD a Mind to try the Temper of Father Purcell, and one Day very gravely hinted an Apprehension of my being with Child. The old Man stared, and was in a strange Dilemma, for he had no Notion but Father Kelly was my real Brother.—He walk'd about the Room in a very pensive Manner, but at last — Well, said he, if my dear Widow be with Child, I must find a Father for it. [Page 192] —Shall I get you a Husband? — 'I have no Objection, said I, provided he be a good one.'—"Leave it to me, re­ply'd the Prior; but it must be done in a Hurry, and shall instantly set about it; so put on your best Airs for a Visit To-morrow Evening." — 'I took his Advice, but could not forbear laughing at the Oddity of my Scheme, and won­der'd where it would end.

FATHER PURCELL kept his Word, and introduced Mr. Magragh. He seem'd a plain good Sort of a Man, of about Fifty-five. He was very ceremo­nious and complaisant, but spoke little. In Half an Hour the Prior open'd a more interesting Conversation.— "My dear Niece, said he, my good Friend Mr. Magragh has often seen you, and has communicated his Sentiments to me. No Doubt you are of Age to chuse for yourself; but as I know his Integrity and Worth, I think it my Duty, as a Parent, to advise you to receive his ho­nourable Addresses as you ought. — It will be much better than returning to Ireland." — 'I blush'd, and only re­ply'd, That I should always be guided by him.

[Page 193]"MADAM, said Mr. Magragh, I am a Man in Trade, of a good Character, and an easy Fortune. His Reverence has told you my Heart, which, if you will be pleased to accept, you shall command every Thing in my Power." Sir, said I, I doubt not your Merit, and as my Uncle is your Friend, I am sure he means an Happiness to us both, and shall sub­mit myself to his Determination.— This, said the Prior, is making Love like People of Sense, and not like giddy Children. Come, my dear Niece, since you leave it to me, give me your Hand. —Here, my good Friend, I bestow you that inestimable Treasure, a good Wife.—Take her, and I pray God to bless you both."—Mr. Magragh em­braced me very tenderly, and I behaved as I ought.

"WELL, Madam, said the poor Man, when shall I be happy?—When shall I call you my own?—Lord, Sir, said I, you are so pressing.—I believe a Month or two will be Time enough.—"A Month, cry'd the Prior; nay, now you spoil all. I hop'd you would have men­tion'd To-morrow."—"And I, said Mr. Magragh, was thinking on the pre­sent Minute; for my Maxim is, Never [Page 194] to put off till To-morrow, what I can do To-day,"—"'Tis a most excellent Rule, reply'd the Prior, and let us put it in Practice. What say you, my dear Neice?—Shall I perform the Holy Of­fice?"—I blush'd, but made no An­swer.—"Silence, said he, is a Consent, therefore let us go to Mr. Magragh's, send for a few Friends, and finish the Business."—"His Reverence, said my Lover, has been always my Friend."— With some Intreaties, I suffer'd myself to be conducted to his House, where, in the Presence of my Brother and two more, my good Uncle perform'd his Priestly Duty, and made me Mistress of this Habitation.

MR. MAGRAGH was really a good-natur'd inoffensive Man, and very af­fectionately lov'd me. I kept very good Company, I read a good deal, and wrote, and assisted him very much in his Busi­ness. By Degrees I grew very expert, and began to think and talk in a quite different Manner.—My poor Husband was extremely delighted with my Dili­gence and Capacity, and only wanted a Child to compleat his Happiness; but none came, notwithstanding the frequent [Page 195] and fervent Prayers of the holy Prior and my pious Brother.

THUS I liv'd for about five Years, with great seeming Happiness; but your Image, and Father Kelly's Person, were too often present to make me really so. I dreaded his more than Brotherly Love; for he sometimes visited at very impro­per Seasons. I knew his Temper, and, as he began to be suspected on many Ac­counts, particularly for some Intrigues with Spanish Ladies, I was in continual Apprehensions of some fatal Accident. Nay, I much fear'd the Jealousy of the Prior, for he gave me some Hints. At last I miss'd the Visits of my Brother, and enquir'd after him from my Uncle. He shook his Head, but no satisfactory Answer came. I cry'd for my Brother, but I never saw him since.— He was ei­ther murder'd, or carry'd to the Inquisi­tion, and I violently suspected the Prior. —I was really sorry for his Misfortune, but not displeas'd at the Loss of his Com­pany. I was much more satisfy'd, when, in three Months after, my holy Uncle, Father Purcell, departed this Life, and left me to enjoy it with Peace and real Happiness.

[Page 196]THESE Impediments to the Tranquili­ty of my Mind being remov'd, I ap­ply'd myself more closely to the Study of every Thing that might give my Hus­band Pleasure. I still improved, and arrived to such Perfection, that he confided all to my Care and Management; and I aver to you, my dearest Jack, that I ne­ver deceived him in any Shape, after the Death of the Prior.

HIS Fortune increas'd very largely, and we liv'd with great Harmony and Content. The last two Years, his Infir­mities made him extremely peevish; but I bore all with Patience, and assisted and attended him with the Tenderness and Duty of a good Wife. The Poor Man was sensible of my Regard, and, when he died, I found his Will had made me absolute Mistress of his whole Fortune.

I HAVE resisted many Sollicitations from People who call'd themselves Lo­vers. I knew the World too well, to imagine a Woman of my Years had all the Charms they pretended to find in me. I fancy I guess'd right, that my thirty thousand Pounds was my principal Beauty.—Now, my dear Jack, forget the Injury I did you, and forget my [Page 197] Faults, which I have most sincerely re­pented of, and you shall be my Husband, nor will I ever have another.—Tho' we are, unhappily, of different Religions, yet, believe me, I am not so bigotted to mine, as to desire a Change in your's. I have learnt by Experience, that the true End and Use of Religion, is to make us good, virtuous, and charitable.—Since your Re­ligion has taught you the Practice of those great Duties, Why should I wish you to alter? No, my dear Jack, keep strictly to, and be faithful in it.—My Religion did not make me wicked; it was my Weakness and my Ignorance. Thank God, I am now wiser. I find, my dear Child, that your Duty will soon call you from me; but to convince you of the Sincerity of my Love, half my For­tune is this Moment your's. When all my Affairs are settled, I will follow you to England, and you shall command the Remainder, allowing me four hundred Pounds a Year during my Life; which will be more than I shall have Occasion for. I hope my dearest Jack is now con­vinc'd, that I make every Satisfaction in my Power, and that I at last prove my­self a tender and affectionate Mother.

[Page 198]THE Captain most ardently embrac'd her, and return'd every Acknowledgement that so much Goodness deserv'd. She set about her Promise immediately, and, in a short Time, gave him Bills on London for fifteen thousand Pounds.

WHILST these Matters were transacting, he received a Letter from his Friend Thorn­ton, declaring his Unhappiness without him, and pressing his Return. He like­wise received Letters from Colonel Manly, and Doctor Grace. These gave him great Concern, for they inform'd him of the Death of his old Master, good Mr. Samp­son. He had requested his Wife to settle the Fortune on Captain Conyers, at her Death, and she had most generously exe­cuted the proper Deeds, reserving two thousand Pounds to dispose of as she thought proper.

HE acquainted his Mother with these Matters, and how necessary his Presence was, to take Care of his Estate, and his Military Post. She confess'd the Reasona­bleness of his Desires, and promising to part with him, with as little Regret as pos­sible, he prepared to set out, the first Op­portunity, by Sea, to Marseilles.

SHE gave him many useful Instructions, and advis'd him to Secrecy with Regard to [Page 199] his Family, and the Obsurity of his Birth. —‘Tho', said she, you are in Fact more Praise-worthy, by having made your For­tune with a fair Character, than had it descended from your Father; yet the World is made of such envious Stuff, they take Pleasure in lessening the Vir­tues of others; yet it is certain he rises the Higher with the sensible Part of the World, the Lower he sprung from.

‘YOUR Fortune, my dear Son, continu­ed she, will be now very considerable, but let me beg of you to believe, that no Fortune can stand long against bad Ma­nagement. Be an Oeconomist, and put your Affairs in so regular a Channel, that, in an Instant, you may know your Income and your Expences. Without Re­gularity, all will be in Confusion. Let your Accounts and your Watch be wound up punctually to a Time, or both will go wrong.—Avoid a Number of idle and superfluous Servants, that eat out an Estate; keep from expensive Schemes and Projects; and trouble, or rather please, the Lawyers as little as possible.—Deter­mine to be happy, for you know the Means.—One Word more, and I have done.—I guess at your Constitution by your Complexion, therefore I advise you [Page 200] to marry, but submit the Manner to your own Prudence.’

HE was often astonish'd how she came to reason, speak and write so correctly, and could not avoid asking her the Question. —‘It is not, said she, so difficult a Matter as you imagine, though we must have some Assistance from Nature.—I very severely felt the Want of these Accom­plishments, and resolv'd, if possible, to acquire them.—I told you I read much. I got good Authors, and apply'd closely to them. They gave me Sentiments I was a Stranger to. I improv'd conside­rably by the Help of Company, but my own Project vastly shorten'd my Labour. I set myself a Task every Day, and care­fully wrote out two or three Pages of the Spectator, Guardian, and other sensi­ble Works, so that in a short Time I be­came Mistress of their Stile and Manner, had always something to say in Conversa­tion, and spelt well, without the Assis­stance of a Grammar. Besides, the Ac­counts I kept, and the Numbers of Let­ters I wrote, made these Matters familiar to me.—This may serve to shew you, That a little Pains and Industry in the Be­ginning, prevents a vast Deal of Trouble and Labour in the End.

[Page 201]IF Captain Conyers was pleas'd at finding his Mother, he was prodigiously more so, at discovering in her all the Marks of good Sense and Prudence.—He remitted his Mo­ney to his Correspondent in London, but at the same Time acquainted Colonel Manly of it, and added a Codicil to his Will. He wrote to all his Friends, and promis'd to join them as soon as possible.

A GOOD Ship being now ready to sail, he paid his Respects to all his Acquaintances at Cadiz, and made some genteel Presents, particularly to the Family of Mr. Fitzge­rald.—All were concern'd at losing so po­lite a Companion, and he was loaded with Praises and Caresses. His Mother could not bear it with that Resignation she at first thought; but however, she rais'd her Spi­rits, and, with many Blessings, saw him set Sail.

THE Voyage was prosperous, and he ar­rived at Marseilles safe, and in good Health. He took Post for Paris, and once more embrac'd his dear Friend Capt. Thornton, after an Absence of eight Months.


Thou Brother of my Choice: A Band more sacred
Than Nature's brittle Tie. By holy Friend­ship,
Glory and Fame stood still for thy Arrival;
My Soul seem'd wanting of its better Half,
And languish'd for thy Absence; like a Pro­phet
That waits the Inspiration of his God.
ROWE'S Tamerlane.

HE found Paris extremely crouded with English, and began to think, that the Scheme of Doctor Grace, for a Duty on the Exportation of our Nobility and Gentry, would yield a much larger Revenue than could be well imagin'd.—Capt. Thorn­ton was quite recover'd, and had waited a Month extraordinary.—‘I assure you, said he, I almost despair'd of you, and was just preparing to set out with my Cousin Lord Truegood.'—'Lord Truegood! cry'd Captain Conyers in a Hurry.'—'Yes, reply'd the other, Lord Truegood, my Uncle, the Earl of Mountworth's Son.— [Page 203] Do you know him?'—'No, answer'd Conyers, but the Similitude of a Name I have a great Respect for, certainly gave me a Flutter.'—'Now I think of it, said Thornton, you could not know him, at least by this Title, for his Father was created an Earl but since the Rebellion.— I promise you, my Cousin is well worth your Acquaintance.’—Just then Lord Truegood enter'd.—‘My Lord, said Thorn­ton, give me Leave to present to you my dearest and most worthy Friend Captain Conyers, and I insist on your loving him as well as I do.'—'It always affords me, said my Lord, the highest Satisfaction to be known to Gentlemen of your distin­guish'd Worth and Merit, and wish I may deserve the Honour of your Friend­ship.'—'If it be an Honour, said Con­yers, what must mine be, should your Lordship grant me your favourable Opi­nion and Countenance?'—'A Truce with your Compliments, cry'd Thornton, let us be a Triumvirate, and make the World stare at our Friendship.’

BY Degrees, they dropp'd into the fami­liar Stile, and each seem'd happy in the o­ther two.—Conyers very attentively exa­min'd the Features of my Lord, and call'd to his Remembrance his much belov'd [Page 204] Master Harry.—His Heart felt an unusual Pleasure; Joy sparkled in his Eyes, and added such Charms to his Conversation, that his Friend protested, he believ'd the Gravity of the Spaniards had only served to give him more Spirits.—‘Perhaps, said my Lord, they were so confin'd, when there, that now they rush out with greater Force; but be it as it will, I am vastly pleas'd to find Wit and good Sense so agree­ably blended.’Conyers made the proper Reply, but retir'd pretty soon, for he want­ed Repose.

NEXT Day they visited their Friends, and a Week was very chearfully employ'd. In this Time, Mr. Conyers receiv'd a Letter from his Correspondent in London, ‘That he had credited him with the Money re­mitted from Cadiz; That he had paid three Bills drawn on him by Mr. Pensé, of Brussels, amounting to Seventy-five Pounds, and that his Correspondent of that City had advis'd him of the Death of the said Mr. Pensé.—Captain Conyers was much concern'd for the poor Man, but his superior Joy soon got the better. He did not think on his Death, as so much gained, but determined to employ Pensé's Money to other Purposes than his own.

[Page 205]LORD TRUEGOOD had all the Softness and Delicacy of Behaviour; that Tender­ness to Mankind; that Ease, and, at the same Time, that Dignity in his Deport­ment, that distinguishes, or ought to dis­tinguish the Nobleman. He was Generous without Profuseness, Mild without Childish­ness, and Courteous to all; but supported his Station. He had seen the different States with critical Eyes, and observed the Faults and Perfections, with a View to the Good of his Country, and his own Honour. This Gentleman conceived a most particu­lar Esteem for Captain Conyers, and every Day improved it.—To be applauded and regarded by Men of Sense and Knowledge, is the highest Honour a Man can receive. The Captain had this from Lord Truegood, and was sensible of it.

A LITTLE more Time was spent in Pa­ris, in Compliments on taking Leave, par­ticularly of the Marquis de Brissac, and the Duke d'Ayen.— Those paid to Ladies, I am as ignorant of, as the Reader.—Every Thing being prepared, the Three Friends took Post for Calais. The Packet soon landed them at Dover, and each had a pe­culiar Satisfaction at arriving at London.


The grateful Mind a Pleasure feels
Beyond what Vice and Passion yields;
The grateful Heart a Bliss bestows
Beyond what Vulgar-Cunning knows.
This noble Virtue in the Breast,
Of ev'ry Virtue we're possess'd.

IT is not to be expressed, the hearty and affectionate Manner Sir Roger Thornton and Lord Mountworth received Captain Con­yers, neither is it possible to describe the Joys He felt, when he embraced the Au­thor of his Life, and the Founder of his Happiness. Each insisted on his living with them, and contended strongly about it, but Captain Conyers ended the kind Dispute by assuring them, he had many Reasons for being in private Lodgings, but hoped they would indulge him the Honour of visiting with Freedom.—He was presented to each Family, who could not enough ad­mire the many excellent Qualifications they soon found he possessed. His generous Va­lour was the Subject of each Day, particu­larly [Page 207] with the Ladies.—It is just They should peculiarly admire the Brave, when They only are capable of rewarding them.

LADY MOUNTWORTH still preserved a large Residue of Beauty. The accustom'd Sweetness of her Temper, and her good Sense, remained; but all her Charms seem­ed transplanted, and to blow a-fresh in her Daughter, Lady Harriot. She was now about Twenty-four Years of Age; her Beauty was exquisite, and none could be insensible of it; but the Rectitude of her Manners, the Integrity of her Soul, and the Affability of her Behaviour, could not fail of Numbers of Admirers. Perhaps she was too delicate in the Choice of a Husband, and required more Perfections in a Man, than a large Fortune and high Titles. She was so whimsical and singular in her No­tions, that she thought a rational, tender, and faithful Companion, was infinitely more essential to a Scheme of Happiness, than a Multitude of Servants, and the most bril­liant Retinue.—My Lord and Lady often raillied this Temper; but as they knew her Understanding and Judgment, they always left her Free.

CAPTAIN Conyers admired her Virtues. He was charmed at the easy Elegance of her Conversation. He gazed on her Beauties, [Page 208] and his Heart insensibly stole from him, and became her Property.—Certain it is, Lady Harriot began to have Sentiments much in his Favour, and some delicate Ex­pressions, and the Conduct of the Eyes, soon discovered what passed in their Souls.

THO' Lady Harriot possessed his Imagi­nation, yet his private Affairs were attended to. Lord Mountworth was an excellent Adviser in Money Affairs, as well as other Matters. He therefore begged his Lord­ship's Assistance in the Management of Twenty Thousand Pounds, which brought on a Conversation that discovered the Circum­stances of the Captain.—His Money was soon disposed of in the Funds, and he pre­pared to set out for his Estate. Whilst this was doing, he remembered his Promise to himself, and sent Five hundred Pounds of Mr. Pensé's to the Correspondent Society in London, for promoting English Protestant Schools in Ireland, but his Name was not mentioned.

HE likewise remembered his old Friend Mr. Sangfroid the Surgeon, and after much Enquiry, found him in very obscure Lod­gings. The Captain was dressed in his Re­gimentals, and Sangfroid received him with very great Respect.—‘Sir, said he, I am sorry for your Accident. A slight Touch, [Page 209] I presume, but my Care and Diligence, will soon make Matters easy to you, and you may depend on being quite safe in my Hands.’—He was going on in the usual Stile; but the Captain with an hearty laugh, cry'd out, ‘Bless me, Mr. Sang­froid!—Have you really forgot me?’Sangfroid looked up, and staring at him for some Time, cry'd,—Forget you!— —‘Eh!—Oons! I believe 'tis honest Conyers—Oh God! — Come to my Arms my dear Friend, said the Captain, and use me as such.’—They embraced, and the Surgeon was quite confounded at his Appearance, and testify'd his Surprize. —‘We shall, said Conyers, have Time enough to talk of that, but at present let us think on your Affairs, for you do not seem so happy as I could wish. You have been my kind Benefactor, now try my Gratitude, and honestly tell me your Wants, for I fear you have some.’

POOR Sangfroid began a most melancholy Story. He told the Variety of Misfortunes he had met with;—he placed them all to the Account of his Folly and Extravagance, and concluded by his being in a poor, wretched Condition.—His Story was ex­tremely moving, but it convinced the Cap­tain of the Misery That Man draws on him­self, [Page 210] who chuses to be directed by Passions and Appetites, rather than Prudence and Oeconomy.—However, he was determined to serve him, and put Forty Guineas into his Hands.—‘Now, said he, this is only for the present; when you find a Surge­oncy to be bought, command my Purse most freely.'—'Heavens! said Sangfroid, how ill they argue, that call this a bad World!—You are in it!—Ten such Men, attone for the Faults of Millions! —My dear Friend, continued he, with Tears in his Eyes, I believe some Rela­tions would advance Two Hundred Pounds, if I had the Remainder I could this Moment purchase a Surgeoncy to a Regiment of Guards.—But 'tis impos­sible to expect so much Goodness.'— Expect, said Conyers every Thing from me. Go about it, my Friend, immedi­ately, and in three Days I shall call and finish the Affair.’—The Captain per­formed his Promise, and with the As­sistance of £ 600 Mr. Sangfroid was made completely happy.

HIS next Enquiry was for Doctor St. Amour; but he had been lately made a Bishop in Ireland. He visited his good Widow Landlady in Surry, whom he made vastly happy, by a Present of Fifty Gui­neas, [Page 211] and an Annuity of Ten Pounds a Year.—He found out that his old Master Monsieur Champignon had been sometime dead; and that Miss Tonton having the Guardianship of her own Person, had wisely disposed of it to a Life-Guard Man.—SIR PETER SHALLOW was still alive, and of the same weak Importance.—SIR JOHN CU­RIOUS was at Rest, but his Lady was very busy with a second Husband, whom she married in her Weeds.—Poor Mrs. CAN­NON had failed in some of her Annuities, and was obliged to retire to Yorkshire for Cheapness.—The BISHOP had long since been translated, and his Works followed him.—As to many others, whom he knew, he judged it not proper to renew his Ac­quaintance, or even inquire after. In a Word, he discharged all those Duties, that good Men recommend, and what few prac­tice.

CAPTAIN Thornton had been so long ab­sent from his Regiment, that he was oblig'd to take Leave of his Friends, and join his Post in Scotland, and his Father Sir Roger had been some Time in Berkshire on Busi­ness. This encreased the Intimacy of Cap­tain Conyers with Lord Mountworth's Fa­mily, particularly with Lord Truegood.— He found out, by Degrees, the Situation [Page 212] of Affairs, and that the young Lord's Bro­ther Master William had taken a Fancy to the Sea Service, and had distinguished him­self on many late Occasions as a Captain of a Man of War, and was then at his Sta­tion.

WHATEVER good Opinion the Family conceived of Capt. Conyers, an Affair hap­pened that did not lessen it. It seems Mr. Sangfroid had been at the Captain's Lod­gings, and was informed of his being at Lord Mountworth's. He followed, and tho' the Captain was not there, yet the Ser­vant conducted him into the Chamber where sat my Lord and Lady with Lady Harriot. My Lord, with his usual Polite­ness, ordered a Chair, and told him he ex­pected the Captain every Moment. A little Chat arose, which, at last, fell on his Friend. —Sangfroid was silent as to former Times, but mentioned his having been in good Circumstances, and had rendered some Ser­vices to Mr. Conyers. He then painted out the last Action of his Friend, and his real Worth and Honour in such lively Colours, that drew from my Lord and Lady, the highest Encomiums on the Captain. Lady Harriot was silent, but Pleasure blushed in her Face. — Sangfroid waited for some Time, but at last took his Leave.

[Page 213]LADY HARRIOT now opened on the Charms of Gratitude and true Generosity.‘These, said she, are the masterly Touches of a finish'd Piece, and no Character can be compleat without them.—They argue every humane Sentiment, and are an Ab­stract of all Virtues.'—'Your Servant, Lady Harriot, said my Lord, and bowed, —I protest you would make an excellent Painter. But tell me, my dearest Har­riot, Which would you chuse to trace, the Person, or the Mind of the Captain?’ —She blushed, but answered—‘You know, my Lord, I always speak Truth, and can ill disguise my Heart.—I hope I shall not be thought Criminal, when I assure your Lordship, I would chuse both his Person and his Mind.'—'And if I can, said my Lord, you shall have your Choice.'—He then most tenderly em­braced her, and Lady Mountworth almost wept with Joy.’

THE Captain was much pressed to return to the Country, particularly by Colonel Manly, who mentioned something of the Borough. It happened that the Colonel and Lord Mountworth were intimate Friends, so was easily persuaded to let his Son Lord Truegood accompany the Captain, but not before he had acquainted him with the [Page 214] Sentiments of his Sister, and his own In­clinations to such a Match. The poor Captain scarcely knew how to bid Adieu to his dear Lady Harriot; but as he had given some Hints to Lord Truegood, his Lord­ship eased him in so delicate an Affair.— Lady Harriot, said he, I must beg your Hand to help me to raise my Friends for he is your's and you his.—She saluted the Captain, and each attempted to answer the other.—‘These are broken Words, said my Lord, but we shall piece them to­gether on our Return.—One Kiss more. —Now adieu.’

THEY went to my Lord and Lady, who, as soon as acquainted with this Affair, em­braced Mr. Conyers, and looked on him as a Son.—‘Your Lordship, said the Cap­tain, is no Stranger to my Fortune, but this Paper contains an Abstract of it, and I most chearfully submit myself to your Lordship's Determination.’—A few Compliments ensued, and Lord Truegood, with Capt. Conyers, stepped into their post Chaise, and soon arrived to the End of their Journey.


Our Grandsire Adam, ere of Eve possess'd,
Alone, and ev'n in Paradise unbless'd,
With mournful Looks the blissful Scenes survey'd,
And wander'd in the solitary Shade:
The Maker saw, took Pity, and bestow'd,
WOMAN, the last, the best Reserve of God.
POPE'S Jan. and May.

NEVER was Man received with more Affection, particularly by his Sister, the Colonel, and Doctor Grace.— It was a Jubilee in the Village.—The Re­membrance of past, and the Enjoyment of present Happiness, occasioned many Tears. —He paid every Duty to Mrs. Sampson, and she regarded him as her Brother and her Son. He recited every Circumstance since they parted, and did not forget his Aunt Magragh at Cadiz, and proposed her living with her when she arrived in England.— Mrs Sampson was extremely pleased in his good Fortune; but, as she imagined the Colonel wished an Alliance with him, she hinted, that, perhaps, there was more in [Page 216] Store.—‘Indeed, said she, I think you ought to marry; nor do I know a Wo­man in the World I would sooner re­commend to you than Miss Manly.— She is grown a Delightful Creature, and is so good, I am sure she would make an excellent Wife. You know the Colonel has Fifteen hundred Pounds a Year, and a great Deal of ready Money. If you will set about it, I'il engage it shall be done.'—'My dear Sister, replyed Con­yers, I know not how to thank you as I ought; but this Affair is impossible.— I am no Stranger to Miss Manly's Beau­ty and Merit; but we are not always Masters of our Inclinations.’—He then told her the History of his Heart, and spoke so tenderly on the Charms of Lady Harriot, that she entirely agreed with him.

COLONEL MANLY was still hearty, and tolerably well. He was vastly pleased at the Figure and Behaviour of Lord True­good. He spoke with great Pleasure of his Grandfather and the present Earl, and re­ceived him with the utmost Affection and Regard. They frequently dined with the Colonel, and Miss did the Honours of the Table in so polite and well-bred a Manner, that charm'd all, but particularly Lord [Page 217] Truegood. He was struck with her Beau­ty, but the Elegance of her Conversation, firmly fixed every tender Thought.—Con­yers perceived his Lordship's Anxiety, and guessing the Cause, hinted his Suspicion.— ‘True, said my Lord, I own my Love, nor am I ashamed of it. An Object so infinitely worthy, must engross my Heart. Dear Conyers, let me require your Friend­ship. Assist me with the Colonel and his dearest Daughter, as I assisted you with Harriot. I am certain of my Father's Consent, and I shall be the happiest of Men.’—The Captain, who was rejoiced at this Incident, assured him of his Interest, and the next Day, not only obtained the Colonel's Consent, but artfully found out from Miss, that my Lord was far from be­ing disagreeable to her.—Lord Truegood was in Raptures, and the Friendship of Conyers curtailed a long Courtship, which of all People, Men of Sense and Sincerity are the least capable of doing for themselves. The Way being now paved, the Affair went smoothly on, and only wanted Lord and Lady Mountworth's Approbation.

The Captain resigned to the Colonel the Promise of his Interest for a Seat in Parlia­ment, and begged him to transfer it where, soon, it would be naturally due. When [Page 218] his Family Affairs were settled, they all agreed on a Journey to London; and, as the Colonel and Mrs. Sampson were infirm, they were obliged to make easy Stages. His Lordship daily made fresh Discoveries of the Understanding and good Nature of Miss Manly, and she found her Pleasure and Satisfaction arise, the more she con­versed with him.—In short, it is not in Na­ture to give more real Joy, than what this good Company felt.

ON their Arrival in London, Captain Conyers flew to Lady Harriot, and Lord Truegood to his Father. One discovered his Soul more openly, and the other mentioned, what Lord Mountworth and my Lady were charmed to hear.

MATTERS were in this Situation, when HONOUR attacked the Captain with such Force, as almost to unhinge his flattering Hopes. This busy Companion seemed to hint, That he ought in Justice to make him­self known to my Lord before the Marriage; that it would heighten his Character, and prevent the Imputation of an Impostor.— He owned the Truth of this, but at the same Time, he looked on his Person, Ac­complishments and Fortune, as very far from Counterfeits. His discovering him­self, gave him no Uneasiness, but he dread­ed, [Page 219] that his Love might be injured by it; and, as he could by no Means think of putting it to the Hazard, he determined still to be silent.—I write the Fact, and will neither approve or condemn this Conduct. The Truth is, he loved, and those who have felt that Passion, perhaps will make Al­lowances for the Faults it occasions.

WHY should I take up the Time of my kind Reader?—He will naturally suppose, that Visits were paid and returned;—That a Settlement was agreed on;—That the Lawyers were Fee'd, and all Necessaries done, to the finishing a Matter of such Consequence, but without my Help he will not know that Lady Harriot's Fortune was but Ten Thousand Pounds.

Two People, if not Four, imagined the Lawyers were very slow in their Motions, and the Clerks very dilatory in their Busi­siness. A few Guineas enlivened their Pens, and the happy Day, at last came. The Bishop of—joined all their Hands, and established the Love and Affection of their Souls.

LORD MOUNTWWORTH would not too soon disturb the Pleasure of his Sons and Daughters, but in six Weeks, he began to think of returning to Ireland, from whence he had been absent three Years. As he [Page 220] found Captain Conyers and Lady Harriot greatly inclined to go, he advised him to keep his Money Matters in such a Readi­ness, that he might dispose of it the first convenient Opportunity.—‘Whatever, said my Lord, some may imagine, let me advise you to Purchase in that Kingdom, but in one of those Counties the least im­proved. A Man of your Turn of Mind, will soon discover the many Advantages. You will build convenient Houses for the poor People, and set them a Spinning. You will almost compel them to Industry and Labour. They will thrive under you, and your Fortune increase in Proportion.’ —His Lordship then gave him an Account of his own Management, (as was formerly related) and assured him the People were all content, tho' his annual Income was aug­mented almost One Thousand Pounds.— —‘If, continued he, a Man takes a Plea­sure in viewing the Trees he planted, in seeing them blossom, and in tasting their Fruit, what Joy, what a rational Joy must he receive, who beholds a Colony of human Creatures, established by his Care, flourishing by his Bounty, and Blessing his Soul, who blessed them?— Believe me, my dear Son, no Earthly Happiness can equal this.’—The Captain [Page 221] was too sensible of these Truths, not to a­gree with my Lord.—His Spirit was al­ready in Ireland, and his Imagination plan­ed out his future Conduct.

COLONEL MANLY grew impatient to re­turn Home, there, as he said, to rest for ever. Lady Truegood could not think of quitting her Father, and the young Lord could not part from his dearest Wife, so that the old Gentleman was perfectly happy, when they agreed to accompany him. —He took a most tender Leave of all his Friends; but, embracing Conyers with Tears of the truest Affection, call'd him his Friend, his Soldier,—but could utter no more than, Heaven bless and protect you, and retir'd with Eyes full of the tender Passion, to which Lady Mountworth and Lady Harriot most liberally subscribed.

THE Captain took a good House and Garden at Richmond for Mrs. Sampson, who promised to be most careful of Mrs. Ma­gragh when she arrived. He wrote to his Mother of all his Transactions, and gave her full Instructions. Every Thing being adjusted, this chearful and happy Family quitted London, and set out for Ireland.


The Wise new Prudence from the Wise ac­quire,
And one brave Hero sans another's Fire.
POPE'S Homer.

THE Journey was made less tedious by their sprightly and agreeable Con­versation.—His Lordship often spoke of Ireland, but in such a Manner, as to re­move the Prejudices he supposed Mr. Con­yers might have to it.—‘The Face of the Country, said he, is certainly charming, and the Soil, the Rivers, and the Climate abundantly supply every Necessary for Life. It was formerly so Woody, that the Ex­halations of the Earth were confined, and the Air wanted a Currency, consequent­ly, it was very fatal to Strangers. Now indeed, you will find the other Extreme, and a shameful Neglect of Trees; but, as they have promised, so do they mend every Day.—You will be surprized at their Herds of Cattle. The City of Cork alone, slaughters for the West Indies above Eighty Thousand every Year. No doubt, [Page 223] it is a profitable Branch, but so much Pasturage depopulates a Country, and makes the common People extremely poor and miserable. The Inhabitants seem now to have a Relish and a Taste for In­dustry, and they feel the Sweets of it. In many Things, no People act Wiser, and in others it is the Reverse, particu­larly in Corn. When a Scarcity happens, they all run to the Plow. Next Year, Corn is a Drugg, the Dutch buy it at their own Price, and the poor Farmers are undone. The following Year the Plow is neglected, and Corn again rises to an exorbitant Price, and then the Dutch re­turn them their own.’

I AM surprised, said Conyers, that their Experience has not convinced them of the Necessity of Granaries.'—'They much want them, replyed my Lord, but it must be an Affair of Government, for private Persons would be ruined in their Fortunes or Characters by such a Scheme.' —By what I have heard, said Conyers, it is a plentiful Country, and very Cheap.' —'True, answered Lady Harriot, and yet it is made much Dearer than in England. If Provisions be a Third Cheaper, and the Fashion of the Country obliges the Use of double Quantities, must it not be [Page 224] more Expensive?'—'Well, well, said Lady Mountworth, suppose it dearer, and that they are not so rich as in England, they live well, they are a generous hos­pitable People, and have Spirits and Chearfulness, not to be purchased by mere Wealth. If they have Faults, shew me a Nation without them?'—'My Mistress said my Lord, is quite an Irish Woman.'— I believe, said she, my Dear means, I am quite unprejudiced; but, granting I was otherwise, ought I not to regard that Kingdom that maintains us? I wish every one did the same, and then their Poverty and Folly would not be so con­spicuous.

WE are told, said the Captain, that the English Charter Schools are in a very flourishing Condition, and will, in Time, make it a Protestant Kingdom.'—'Yes, replyed my Lord, they are greatly, and very justly encouraged, but it will take Time to complete so laudable a Work, and Donations are still wanting.—Tho' it is the King of all Charities, yet I think my Plan would much shorten it.—Sup­pose the Legislator vested One Hundred Thousand Pounds in the Hands of a few Trustees of known Integrity and Judg­ment, to be applied in purchasing Lands [Page 225] in some particular Counties, and letting those Lands in small Farms to poor Pro­testant Swiss or Palatines, naturalized, and to Protestant Husbandmen of our own Kingdoms. These Farms should be Rent Free for three Years; pay a small Matter for three Years more, and raise it in such a Proportion, as should be judg­ed Equitable, till by Degrees the Lands paid the full Value, but not of the Improved Rent. They should have Fee Farm Lea­ses, but not suffered to sell or alienate the Lands in any Shape, for a certain Number of Years, without the Consent of the Trustees.—Such a Scheme, pro­perly executed, would certainly, in the first Instance, be Expensive to the Go­vernment, but it would, as certainly, soon fill the Country with Industrious and Faithful Subjects, and return to that Go­vernment a Ten-fold Interest.

AS ENGLAND, said the Captain, has purchased that Kingdom by much Blood and Treasure, perhaps they are too severe in their Conduct towards it. All confess the Policy of France, and their constant Maxim is, to grant more Privileges to their conquered Provinces and Towns, than they allow the Interior of the Kingdom.' —'On this, said my Lord, I shall not ar­gue, [Page 226] but, take Ireland in General, and you will find them tolerably happy. If all the proper Use be not made of so large a Kingdom, England will at last discover her Error, and rectify it. I must say for the Honour of Ireland, that no Nation ever made, in so short a Time, such won­derful Improvements; and I must add, that England has been, in many Instances, extremely Generous, and England begins already to feel and perceive the Utility of it.

AS to FRANCE, continued my Lord, I am convinced, that her great Strength lies not in the vast Superiority of her Domi­nions. We are told that Great-Britain and Ireland are to France, as 100 to 107. Her chief Power consists in the equal Distribution of Benefits to the Whole, and in her Scheme for making a formerly, divided People, now Think and Act as one Man.—Were we so True to our own Interest;—Were we so Industrious to pro­cure to each other a reciprocal Advan­tage;—Did we manage every Inch of Territory for the Benefit of the Whole Community, and not Sacrifice the Bounties of Nature to the private Interest of a Few, GREAT BRITAIN, in Reality, would hold the Balance of Europe.Lady Har­riot [Page 227] smiled, and said, I cannot but won­der at the vast Pains my Lord takes a­bout Ireland, when, with all his Conside­ration, he cannot change the Nature of Things, but must leave them, almost where he found them: If he could per­suade the Rulers of the State to think like him, then indeed I should have a Chance of seeing Ireland planted like a Garden.

GIVE me Leave to tell you, replied my Lord, that I apprehend it the indispen­sible Duty of every faithful Subject, to throw out such Information and Hints to the Government, as he judges of general Use. Should he err in his Conjectures, perhaps they may give Birth to somewhat really Beneficial. In any Case, his good Intentions will at least deserve Praise.— I am not such a Wind-Mill Fighter, as to pretend to amend the World, yet I hope your Ladyship will indulge me an At­tempt to amend my little Share of it, and shew others a good Example.—Ac­cording to my Notions, this is almost as essential a Part of my Duty, as to Fear God and Honour the King, neither can it justly be said, I do one or the other with­out it.

[Page 228]SUCH was the general Run of Conversa­tion.—They pleased and instructed each other.—They spoke of Things with Free­dom, but of Persons with Good-nature.— They had no Conception of the Joys of turning all into Ridicule;—of the Pleasure of Sarcasm, nor of the Delight of finding out Faults, and magnifying them.—No.— They had Souls above the vulgar Topic of Slander.—They loved Mankind, and Mankind loved them.

A YATCHT attended for my Lord and Family, and they arrived safe in Dublin the 16th of April, 1750. They stayed a short Time in that City, and then set out for BOUNTY-HALL. His Lordship's Tenants met him on the Road, and their unfeign'd Joy is past Description.

AS soon as Conyers perceived the venera­ble Seat, wherein he had experienced so much Humanity and so many Blessings, his Heart swell'd with Gratitude. Every tender Sensation rushed so violently on him, that he was scarce able to speak. Lady Harriot observed his Countenance changed, and was dreadfully frightened, as were my Lord and Lady. With some Difficulty he got into the House, and begged to lye down a few Minutes, and all would be well, but no Persuasion could remove Lady Har­riot [Page 229] from his Bed-Side. He indulged his Tears, and permitted them to flow in Si­lence, and unperceived by Lady Harriot.— In two Hours he was quite recovered, and joined the Family to their inexpressible Joy.

THO' he took Care not to enquire for particular Persons, yet he soon found, that the Good, the Honest Mr. Kindly, had been dead above two Years. This was a morti­fying Blow, and cost him many Sighs. He had often figured to his Mind the Joy the Old Man would receive when he discover'd himself, which he intended to do, by re­claiming his Old Waistcoat and tatter'd Bree­ches.—All the Gratitude he had resolved to shew this Good Man, he now determined to transplant to his Family.—Mr. Cassock had been Minister of the Parish Eleven Years, and his Wife was well, and had a fine Family of Children. These he fix'd in his Thoughts.—The old Butler and Mrs. Mathews were dead.—Mademoiselle Le Mea­gre was old, but lived happily with Mrs. Cassock on a Pension from my Lord. The Good-natur'd Groom was a favourite Coach­man, and had a considerable Farm, and was well married. Conyers determin'd in himself to do him Service.—He viewed the Land with the utmost Pleasure, but it was so changed, and the Inhabitants and [Page 230] little Houses so alter'd and so decent, that all seemed Enchantment. With Difficulty could he persuade himself, that Eighteen Years could make such a wonderful Change. —Such is the Power of good Management, and such the Effect of Industry!

CAPTAIN CONYERS was in such vast De­light, that he fear'd he should discover him­self improperly, and determin'd to watch a convenient Opportunity of opening his Heart to my Lord.—Thus they liv'd for two Months, when an Addition was made to the general Joy. In short, Lady Har­riot could no longer hide a Pregnancy which she had taken great Pains to conceal.

HE soon found out, that his Good Friend DOCTOR ST. AMOUR, now Bishop of ****, lived about Twenty Miles from Bounty-Hall, which determin'd him to make an Excuse for visiting that Part of the Country.—He waited on the Good Man, from whose Character, it is easy to guess, how the Captain was received, for Advance­ment had only made him, if possible, more Humble.—Those who cannot imagine the Beauty of Good-nautre, Tenderness, Love, and Gratitude, must be very unhappy, and to attempt to describe what they do not understand, would be as absurd as to do it to those who have that Blessing.—Conyers [Page 231] told him his Situation, and begg'd his Ad­vice and Assistance in properly bringing about a Discovery to Lord Mountworth.— The Bishop took it on himself, but an Ac­cident turn'd it another Way.

A FEW Days after his Return, my Lord heard of an Estate to be sold in the next County, and that the Proprietor was in Waterford. He knew the Lands and the Owner, and so much wish'd to have his Son fix'd there, that he proposed a Jour­ney to Waterford, as the shortest and surest Way of coming to an Agreement. No doubt the Ladies were in some Trouble, particularly Lady Harriot, but his Lord­ship raillied them out of such Whimsies, and in three Days set out on this Expedi­tion.


Not He, of Wealth immense possest,
Tasteless who piles his massy Gold,
Among the Number of the Blest,
Should have his glorious Name enroll'd;
He better claims the glorious Name, who knows
With Wisdom to enjoy what Heaven be­stows.

ON their Arrival at Waterford, they were inform'd, that the Gentleman they wanted was then at Clonmell, and next Morning they pursued their Journey to that City. In the Evening, they travell'd lei­surely on, and my Lord was diverting him with a merry Story of his Youth, when suddenly Mr. Conyers cry'd out, Great God! and fainted in the Post-Chaise. — His Lordship, in prodigious Trouble, stop­ped the Chaise, and all were employed in recovering the Captain. They took him out, and no House being at Hand, car­ry'd him to the Hut of a Beggar. When his Senses weree recall'd, what was his [Page 233] Astonishment at finding himself actually placed in his first Habitation!—He utter'd some Words that greatly affected his Lord­ship, who imagined a Lightness in the Brain, and made him most ardently desire to be in a Place where proper Assistance could be had.—In a little Time his Spirits so much revived, that my Lord hurry'd him into the Chaise, and the Beggar had Reason to be thankful for the Accident.

THE CAPTAIN was lost in Thought. The Idea of former Times was so strong, and every childish Circumstance recurr'd so clearly to his Memory, that it might have been fatal to him, had not his Eyes given Vent to the Throbbings of his Heart.— This lasted a considerable Time; but he was quite himself when he arrived at Clon­mell.

‘MY dear Conyers, said my Lord, you give me vast Pain; I perceive your Dis­order is not occasioned by Sickness, but by somewhat that oppresses your Mind. —Relieve it, I beseech you, and con­fide in me, not merely as a Father, but as a Friend.—If my Power or Fortune can give you Ease, count it already done. Let me intreat you not to stifle your Cares, if you have any, which must tor­ture [Page 234] your Imagination, and keep me on the Rack.’

‘HEAVEN is my Witness, said Mr. Conyers, I mean not to give your Lordship the least Uneasiness. But, my Lord, I have such a Tale of Wonder to unfold, that overcomes my Reason.—Can you believe, can your Lordship imagine, that the Hovel I was just now in, was my Dwelling for Years?’—My Lord thought him distracted, and advis'd him to forbear any further Relation, and go to Rest.

‘I SEE, said Mr. Conyers, your Lordship thinks my Mind is disturb'd.—'Tis true; but my Reason is clear.—Oh, my Lord! I am not capable of injurious De­ceits, but that I have deceived you, is certain.' 'My dear Son, reply'd the good Lord, I know your Honour, and your Virtue, but I know not of a Deceit.'— Yes, my Lord, answer'd Conyers, you are my Father; — your Bounty rais'd me;—your Humanity supported my Infant Weakness;— your Virtues form'd my Soul;—the Will of the Almighty has conducted my Steps, and now throws at your Feet, the Poor, — the Helpless, —the Abandon'd JACK CONNOR.’

LORD MOUNTWORTH was all Amaze­ment.—He forgot Mr. Conyers was on his [Page 235] Knees, but gazing, with Eyes of Astonish­ment, at last he rais'd him, and look'd again.—When he had fully brought to his Memory the long unthought-of Features of Jack Connor, he flew with Transport to his Arms.—‘Gracious Heaven! cry'd he, how unsearchable are thy Ways.—Oh, my dear Jack, you have amply,—amply rewarded the Kindness I have shewn you. —You are now mine by every Tie.'— If your Lordship, said Conyers, can par­don the only Fallacy I was ever guilty of, you will, a second Time, give me Life and Being.'—'My dear Jack, reply'd my Lord, you every Moment give me new Pleasure;—I think you are now my son more than ever:—But, my Child, tell my impatient Ear how this Wonder has happen'd;—tell me how it is possible, when Mr. Johnston was so certain of your being drown'd, that I now find, now hold you in my Arms!'—'I shall, answer'd Mr. Conyers, most faithfully inform your Lordship of every Part of my Life, but the Hurry of my Spirits is so great, and my Imagination, so fill'd with the Vicis­situdes of my Fortune, that I am unable, at present to utter any Part. —All I can now say, is, most humbly to thank your Lordship, for your Humanity and Bounty, [Page 236] to a Poor, Distressed, Helpless Infant, and to beseech you, to believe, that nothing but Real Love, of my dearest Harriot, and the dread of losing her, could have prevented a sooner Discovery. Forgive this Crime, my Lord, if Love can be a a Crime; and your Lordship may be as­sured, that my Duty, my Gratitude, and every Sentiment of an Honest Heart, shall for ever wait on you, and on every Crea­ture for whom you have the least Friend­ship or Regard.’

‘MY dear Son, said my Lord, I can easily judge of the pleasing Anxiety you are in, but retire to Rest, and may gentle Sleep, restore your Peace and Tranquil­lity; and may Heaven long continue it.’

Next Morning, Lord Mountworth in the most affectionate Manner, embraced Con­yers, and call'd him his Son,—his Friend.‘Permit me, said the Captain, to ask your Lordship, if you can give me any Ac­count of Mr. Johnston's Niece Nannett?' —'To the best of my Memory, said my Lord, she married Mr. Lilly the Usher, about the Time you left the School. Your old Master died Six Years ago, and Mr. Lilly continues the former Plan of Tuition, with great Credit.’

[Page 237] ‘NOW I am satisfied, said Conyers; and now give me Leave to recount every Circumstance of my Story, and your Lordship will observe the visible Hand of Providence conducting and leading me to the Fruition of the most perfect Hap­piness this World can afford.—It has con­ducted me to the Arms of the dearest and best of Wives, and to the Sight of the noblest and best of Men. —Heaven, I beseech thee, make me most truly thank­ful.’

HE then began the Narrative of his Life, ‘which, if the Reader has forgot, he has my Permission to read again, for I have not Time to Recapitulate.’

EVERY Incident and Change of his Life, gave his Lordship fresh Matter for Won­der; but what struck him the most, was his being the Son of Sir Roger Thornton, who had married his Sister.—‘I shall ever, said he, admire your Prudence, in keep­ing your Affairs so secret, and I shall al­ways Honour your laudable Ambition and Gratitude.—When our dear Harriot has bless'd you with a Child, both she and my dear Wife shall partake of the Joy your Story has given me, and my Son Harry, must share in the Pleasure.—As for Sir Roger, he must know nothing of [Page 238] it, for he has a certain Pride in his Na­ture, that would soon divulge it to the World, and, perhaps, not in its genu­ine Colours.—For my own Part, my dearest Jack, I am so far from being a­shamed of your Alliance, that I glory in it; yet, my Son, I would not chuse to be the constant Theme of the Ignorant.— TITLES are but the Rewards of Merit, but Pride and Haughtiness debase them.— Distinctions, are only Incentives to Noble Deeds; and true Nobility will ever encou­rage them. — Charity and Tenderness, are the Characteristicks of A MAN, and did Mankind love Truth and Honour, more than Pride, Falshood and Detraction, the Occurrences of your Life would strengthen their Resolves, and convince ALL,— That to be REALLY HAPPY, they must be TRULY VIRTUOUS.’

Gentle Reader,

RIGHT sorry is the Compiler of this Work, that his Materials can carry him no further, and he is not permitted to to search into Futurity. Should our good JACK CONNOR, or CAPTAIN CONYERS, live Thirty or Forty Years longer, per­haps he will furnish Matter for a much abler Historian. The Work thou hast now [Page 239] read, has been little alter'd from the Origi­nal Papers, but some Observations, or rather slight Hints, have been added, and are the Result of not a little Experience of Sixty Years.—If thou findest Errors, reprove with Freedom, but judge of the Intention. —If thou applaudest any one Part of the Moral, thou wilt make the Compiler happy, as he will imagine thou wilt follow the Precept.—To the well-minded, to the honest Man, he says from Shakespear's CORIOLA­NUS,

I have done, as you have done; That's, what I can;
Induc'd, as you have been; That's, for my Country;
He, that has but effected his Good-will,
Hath overta'en mine Act.



Stultus versus Sapientem: IN THREE LETTERS TO THE FOOL.

Joculare tibi videtur: & sane loeve,
Dum nihil habemus majus, calamo ludimus.
Sed diligenter intuere has noenias;
Quantum sub illis utilitatem reperies!


THE History of JACK CON­NOR having met with so fa­vourable a Reception in Great Britain and Ireland, that my In­terest obliged me to give this Se­cond Edition, tho' Books of Amusement, do not always meet the same Fate. No Pains has been wanting, to make this Im­pression as compleat, as the Na­ture of the Work would admit of.

SOME Gentlemen have insisted on my rescuing the following Letters from Oblivion, by adding them to this Volume; and I was [Page 244] the easier prevailed on, as they bear some Analogy to the forego­ing History.

I find these Letters were print­ed in London, in the Paper call'd the FOOL, at a Time when it was under the Consideration of Par­liament, whether they should, or should not, continue the Bounty on the low-pric'd Linens of Ireland.

IF Irony merits your Atten­tion or Regard, these Letters can­not fail of giving you some Plea­sure, which, I shall ever be hap­py, by contributing to.


Dear Cousin,

HAD I sooner discovered the Honour I have of being nearly related to you, sooner had I paid my Respects to the wor­thy Head of so illustrious a Family.

TO convince you of my sincere Love, untainted with Flattery, permit me grie­vously to complain to you—of yourself. The constant Maxim of our glorious Ance­stors, was, by their Writings, their Elo­quence, and every other lawful Means, to encourage, promote, and, if possible, make Universal the great Doctrine of Folly; but, with an aching Heart I speak it, you seem to dwindle from the fundamental Rule into downright Understanding and Sense.

CONSIDER, my dear Cousin, that whilst you are musing yourself with such Trifles, your natural Enemies gain Ground; nay, a [Page 246] whole neighbouring KINGDOM have lately taken up Arms against Us, who for many Centuries were our firmest Friends and Al­lies.

YOUR inherent Good-foolishness will natu­rally imagine I mean IRELAND.— This mighty Monarchy, for ages governed by Kings of our House!—This extensive Realm, famous for the Title of Isle of Saints, the indelible Character of our noble Family! — This State, peculiarly che­rished and fed by our spiritual Father the Pope!—And yet, to our Shame be it spoken, this, so valuable a Part of our Dominions is likely to be wrested from Us. —Yes, Sir, we shall soon lose our ancient Inheritance, except we exert all our Facul­ties, and by vigorous, and antisalutary Schemes, prevent what must be so fatal to our Interest.

LEST Truth should not have reached your Ears, (as what Monarch always hears it) permit me to inform you of the present Conduct of this DEGENERATE NATION.— Your Foolishness will scarcely believe the melancholy Tidings I bring!—You will not be able to conceive, that these, your old Friends, now hold your Authority and Fa­mily in the utmost Contempt!—That they have already trampled down Numbers of [Page 247] your Altars and High-places, and that all Hands are employed to finish the execrable Work!—Believe me, Sir, this misguided People, are totally employed in promoting Manufactures, Labour, and Industry! Strange Revolution!

AS poor and deluded as they are, they have stumbled on a Project, that will infal­libly ruin our Credit.—They have set the Axe to the Root, and the mighty Tree, that yielded the plentiful and delicious Fruit of Pardons, Indulgencies, and a thousand other Sorts, no less grateful to the Soul, must fall, and with it all our Hopes!—In short, Sir, the Wretches seem determined to make it a PROTESTANT KINGDOM.—I tremble at the Consequence!

BLIND ZEAL urges them on. They give their Money with Chearfulness to promote their Darling Scheme of ENGLISH PRO­TESTANT WORKING SCHOOLS.—I beg Leave, Sir, to set this Matter before you, in its true Light, that your Foolishness may consider of Ways and Means to prevent their spreading.

I AM very well informed that this King­dom from N. to S. is about 265 Miles, and from E. to W. about 150, and contains about eighteen Millions of statute Acres, with commodious Harbours, Bays, and Rivers. [Page 248] —Henry the second stole it from your An­cestors.—Many Struggles were made by our good Friends to shake off this Yoke, but in vain.—At that Period, vulgarly called The Reformation, your Friends held fast to Mother Church, but still PROTESTANTISM impudently raised her Head and shamefully flourished. To such an Height she grew, that in 1641, when England was torn by Civil War, our natural Safety obliged, and our Holy Catholick Church compelled Us, for the Sake of Salvation, to extirpate our Enemies. The glorious Call was unhappily obeyed, but in Part; for their fell, in that Night, but about ONE HUNDRED THOU­SAND of them.

THAT Arch-Fiend OLIVER CROMWELL, greatly disturbed our Peace and holy Igno­rance. His enthusiastick Sword swept all be­fore him. His Madness drove Multitudes to America, and Numbers into one Corner of the Land, where still your Name is in some Veneration.—The total Ruin of your Empire was too arduous a Task even for Oliver, for on mustering our Forces in 1683, we found ourselves 37 to one.

AGAIN we struggled, and followed the Standard of your illustrious God-Father, KING JAMES the Second.—Tho' the PRINCE OF ORANGE was our most inveterate Foe; [Page 249] tho' he had a little Courage, great Cunning, and a tolerable Army, our Hopes were High, and we might have succeeded, had not that abominable filthy Town and Neighbourhood of ENNISKILLEN, raised a Regiment of HORSE, and one of FOOT, of as rank PRO­TESTANTS as ever occupied Church Lands, and sent Them and Their Hearts to the PRINCE.—Oh fatal Hour! — Our Ene­mies Triumph in it, and preserve these Regiments, even until this very Day.

FROM that Time, these Miscreants have been but too careful in framing, and what is worse, putting in Execution sundry Laws, destructive of our antient Rights. Thus have they proceeded for these sixty Years, without the least Check; and have so artfully managed their Affairs, that, withal the Machinations and Contrivances, of sundry Potentates, your Friends and Allies, they never could be brought even to think of REBELLION in support of your Foolishness, or Family, except with Horror.—So averse were these Savages to your gentle Sway, that, whilst Numbers of our Relations marched, even into the Heart of England in your Cause: They, the Protestants, raised up­wards of sixty thousand Horse and Foot, well armed, regimented, and mostly uniformly cloathed, and effectually guarded IRELAND, [Page 250] in spite of your legal Prerogative, and in­defeasible Hereditary Right.

I HAD a Degree of Happiness, on being informed that in 1742, our Friends there were about seven to one Enemy.—But alas, Sir! on further Enquiry, I am, but too well convinced, that in fifty Years, you, or your Posterity, will not have a single Heart warm in your Cause.—The Encouragement given to Husbandry, Manufactures, Arts and Sciences, is monstrous! Even beyond what any other Nation ever did!—They have inverted the whole Order of Nature; they have extracted Corn from our old venerable Boggs, and feed Millions of Sheep and Oxen, on those Plains, antiently consecrated to holy and religious Uses.—But what will not Impiety do?

THEY have infatuated the native Irish to such a Decree, that they beg and pray to have their Children admitted into these cur­sed Protestant Schools, now erected in most Parts of the Kingdom, to the Number of 50.—In these Seminaries they are taught to read the Bible, and instructed in their Religion for about two Hours every Day, and the Remainder of their Time, still more infamously, employed in tilling the Land, spinning, weaving, or some other [Page 251] manual Operations, unknown to their Fore-fathers.

THE FUND to answer this great Expence, arises, from what they call, THE CHARITY OF WELL DISPOSED CHRISTIANS; and so prevalent is this specious Title, that a KING, (whom your Foolishness never heard of,) even GEORGE THE SECOND, has granted them a Charter, and set an Example to his Subjects, by a Donation of ONE THOU­SAND POUNDS a Year.—An Example! but too well followed by Numbers of weak Minds in this Kingdom.

I REALLY always imagined that these Contributors were of the lowest Order of the People; but great was my Surprise to find, at a late Meeting, so many of the first Fashion and Reputation in the Kingdom. As they are Men of dangerous and turbu­lent Spirits, always plotting and contriving our Ruin, they must, by some Means or other, be diverted from this Work.

YOUR Foolishness will certainly demand and say,—Where are my holy Priests?— They are idle!—They are idle!—No, Sir, accuse them not; they are there, and in Numbers, and at Work with all their Might; but these subtile Protestants take from them the Tools they work with, by transplanting [Page 252] the innocent Children many Miles distant from their native Parishes; by which Con­trivance, their Parents, or Priests, are pre­vented from frightening them with Pur­gatory and Hell, or keeping them firm in the Cause of Indolence and Rags.—For now above 1500 of these little Reptiles Cloath themselves.

PERMIT me, Sir, in my next, to lay before you a few Remarks, and some Schemes to render Useless the Machinations, of all your Enemies, being

Your true and most affectionate Kinsman, Thomas à Stupidius.


Dear Cousin,

IN the last I had the Honour of writing to you, I traced out the Rise and Pro­gress of WISDOM in your antient Kingdom of IRELAND.—Permit me, a little, to con­tinue the Subject, and then I shall mention my Ways for making their Wisdom abor­tive.

SOME of their Wise Heads have found out, that Ireland contains about two Mil­lions of Inhabitants, and they have likewise found out, that the Riches and Prosperity of a Nation are in Proportion to their In­habitants properly employed.—Such a Disco­very was infinitely against the true Interest of our Family.—On this they built, and then computed the Value to the Government of every industrious Individual, which, I think, they made amount to about ten Pounds a Year.

[Page 254]THEY then proceeded by a Thing called Arithmetick.—If ONE industrious Subject— be worth TEN POUNDS a Year to the State, —what will be the Value of TWO MILLIONS of such Subjects?—And, such is the Power of Figures! They made it plain that that Number was really worth TWENTY MIL­LIONS each Year.

IN order to acquire such Riches, the first Care of these avaritious Gentry was to poi­son the Minds of their Tenants with No­tions of Industry.—No easy Task! But as they knew, that the Popish Religion,—their having such Swarms of Priests to maintain,— their Number of Holy Days,—and their na­tural Disposition to Sauntering, were so many Draw-backs to Wealth, Honesty, and Cleanliness, it was thought necessary to change the Religion of the People, and make them spurn at our holy Institutions.— This cruel Blow has been but too well fol­lowed; — Their Labour and Industry have matched with such gigantick Strides, that within these twenty Years, the whole Face of the Country is changed.—Now the Tra­veller journies on Roads the finest in Eu­rope, and reposes himself, not in Barns, or Hovels, but in good, clean, and commodious Houses.—He may in Time be entertained with all the Beauties of the Country, [Page 255] heightned and improved by Art and In­dustry.—He may behold useful and orna­mental Structures arise; and see Gardens and Plantations flourish.— These indeed would be shocking Sights!

'TIS amazing to observe, how the tri­vial Praemiums of a little Society in DUBLIN have spurred on greedy Minds.—Scarcely has any Branch of Manufacture, or useful Art, escaped their Notice and Encourage­ment.—Such low Creatures are they, that they ransack even the Dunghills, and give Praemiums to the old Women, who gather most Rags to make Paper.—Should our Schemes oblige the Rebels to return to your Obedience, I would except these Fellows out of the general Pardon.

WHAT have we not to fear, should In­dustry, like other Novelties, become a Fa­shion in Ireland.—INDUSTRY! The Parent of every social Virtue;—the Founder of all real Honour;—the Support of Go­vernment, and Preserver of true Religion!— PROPERTY is her constant Attendant, and LIBERTY gives her Spirits freely to enjoy it.—Virtue, Property, and Liberty, are not Concomitants of our Constitution. They must be banished, or your Foolishness will be deposed. Therefore, THE PROTESTANT WORKING SCHOOLS must be destroyed.

[Page 256]HITHERTO, Sir, I have considered this Matter in its worst Light; but be assured your Foolishness has many and powerful Friends both Here and in Ireland, who con­stantly espouse your Cause. These Forces, properly collected, and well posted, must make a powerful Diversion, and greatly Re­tard the Operations of the Enemy.

OUR Friends in the CONCLAVE and SOR­BONNE perfectly understand the noble Doc­trine,—DIVIDE AND GOVERN.—Through all the Labyrinths of Policy, from Xenophon, and Tacitus, to Richlieu and Anti-Machi­avel, this Maxim is the Soul and Essence.— When it fails, I know but of a Ponyard or Poison that can supply its Place.

RIGHTLY to divide, we must sub-divide Truth: Or, in other Words, we must pro­pagate Falshoods. 'Tis certain, that Lying is a Sin the Vulgar only can commit; for all the Princes of your House gloried in it; and your Foolishness follows those bright Examples.—Let it be privately hinted, That the whole Affair is a Jobb, and a Con­trivance to couzen the Weak.—Assert possi­tively, that every Donation to these scandalous Working Schools, centers in the Pockets of particular Persons,—or, where these Schools are really erected, 'tis but with a View of augmenting the Estate of the Lord of the [Page 257] Manor, by having so many Slaves to work for him gratis. Thanks be to Ignorance Thousands of your Liege Subjects will sub­scribe to these Articles, with Implicit Faith.

THO' it happens, that GREAT-BRITAIN and IRELAND are governed by the same Monarch, and the same Laws, and tho' the principal Inhabitants of the latter, spring from the former, yet Nature, indulgent to your Interest, has divided them by a little Sea.—Be it therefore our peculiar Care to divide their Minds, by encouraging Jealou­sy, and the salutary Seeds of Derision and Animosity.—By all Means, prevent the English from ever getting the better of their Prejudices to the Irish, and keep the Irish in a perpetual envious Disposition to the English. For, though we cannot prevent their being IN FACT but one and the same People, this Conduct will give them two distinct Minds, and make their UNION useless.

EVERY Instrument must be employed to keep up the general Opinion, that Ireland must be bridled and curbed.—Never permit them to discover, that it would be unjust to make different Laws for the Isle of Wight, or, that the County of Surry should have less Freedom than the County of Middlesex; because the Thames divides them.—How [Page 258] fatal had it been to our good Cause, and to our faithful Friends, the Disturbers of Eu­rope, had Ireland been joined to the nar­row Part of the Western Shore of Eng­land!—They would then have been all Protestants.—This Kingdom would have been Two Thirds larger than it is,—have had four or five Millions more of Inhabi­tants, and a proportionable Increase of Taxes to the Government; consequently the Government less in Debt, if at all; or, if in Debt, better enabled to pay that Debt. —France and Spain would have been un­supplied with Irish Officers and Soldiers, who happen, though our Relations, not to be the worst of the Profession.

THAT your Foolishness has many Friends of different Orders, cannot be denied; but the Two most firm in your Interest, are those Gentlemen of England, who regard the other Isle but with a certain Degree of Con­tempt, and view the Inhabitants but as A­liens to the State: And those Gentlemen of Ireland, who contemning her new-adopted Maxims, live out of her Pale, nor visit her, but by their Proxies in the Form of Bills of Exchange.—These are our true and genuine Subjects, meriting every Honour your Foolish­ness can confer on them.

[Page 259]IT must be confessed, there are some poor and dastardly Spirits in this Kingdom, who, afraid of exerting their Power over the o­ther, have, unaccountably, run into the opposite Extreme, and joined with all their Might to promote their Linen Manufacture. Nay, their MONARCH, and most of his No­bility, feel it every Day on their Tables, their Backs, and in their Beds.—Too serious a Truth!—I have been informed, that in 1681, their whole Export of Linen Cloth amounted to about ten Thousand Pounds, but now,—Can you believe it?—'Tis swelled to above a Million. This has so enraged me, I am not at present able to proceed; but permit me to refer your Foolishness to my next, and always be as­sured of the utmost Sincerity of

Your most faithful and affectionate Kinsman, Thomas à Stupidius.


Dear Cousin,

JOIN with me to curse the Memory of the old Wretch, who invented the Fable of the Belly and Members. Certain­ly it contains more Wisdom than half the modern Folios. From this Tale sprung every faint Endeavour to make these three Kingdoms subservient to the Interest of each other, and BE in Reality one great and mighty Empire. But their boasted TRIA JUNCTA in UNO is merely ideal; for our Family have ever found Means, nor want­ed Interest, to make ineffectual such perni­cious Schemes.

LINEN gave Rise to Industry in IRE­LAND.—Industry soon shewed her alluring Charms, and diffused her baneful Influence over the Land. Ten Thousand odious Beau­ties issued from her, and at last produced [Page 261] these horrid working Schools, which must make it a Protestant Kingdom, and conse­quently enrich England, by an Addition of some Millions of useful and faithful Sub­jects.

ENGLAND discovered this Benefit, and wisely encouraged the Irish Linen; but par­ticularly by the Bounty they allowed on its being exported to foreign Countries. The Effects were soon felt in Ireland, and the Creatures expressed their aukward Grati­tude, by running in Crouds to the Hackle and Loom.

AS this is the Source of all our Misfor­tunes in Ireland, let all our Attention be given to Ruin it; which, when once ef­fected, believe me Sir, they will fly with more Alacrity, to bend the Knee before you, than they did to rebel against your Authority.—Let us not tamely submit to see triumphant those Monsters, Industry and Protestantism.—Our Troops are still nu­merous, and in good Order; but alas! of what Use, if not led to on Action.

Your Foolishness knows, that some of the Northern Provinces of this Kingdom have embarked in this Branch of Business. —A most lucky Incident! which, if pro­perly improved, all your Wishes will be ac­complished.—Let us magnify their Perfor­mances.—Let [Page 262] us invent plausible Tales of the Progress they have made, and fee our Friend SOPHISTRY to demonstrate, that the Interest of England requires their being greatly supported and encouraged, and then your faithful Minister CUNNING may slyly insinuate, that Ireland can now stand alone, nor needs the usual Bounty, which, by all true Policy, ought to bend its Course due North.

I AM in Raptures at the Thought!— Pursue it, Sir, in the Name of Ignorance; and instantly you will see, all their mighty Fabrick tumble to the Ground, and your Fame will be exalted for ever!—Ireland must then infallibly become a Drain of Riches from England, and not a Source of Plenty.—She may want Assistance from Eng­land, but will never be able to return the Compliment.—Thus enervated, no more can she support thirty seven Regiments of British Subjects, always ready to obey their Monarch.—She may indeed have an Army quartered on her; but their Pay must issue from the same Fountain, which supplies the Army in Scotland.—Her present Ab­sentees must then become Resident; for, by Ruining this, her only Branch of valuable Commerce, she can never send out the [Page 263] twentieth Part of the annual Million, she now bestows on them.

'TIS impossible to mention the innumer­able Advantages arising to us from such a Project well executed.—ROME would be glad, and France rejoice at it.—Ignorance would triple her Number of Beads. Sloth would multiply her pleasant Bogs, and Indo­lence live magnificently in Smoak, and Mud­walls! In fine, all our Family, to the most distant Relation, would be properly and mu­nificently provided for, and your Throne established, as in the Days of Roderick O'Connor, of gallant Memory.

'TIS in vain to attempt in England a thorough Reformation in our Favour; but we can always throw in such Bars to their Happiness, and so weaken the Nerves and Sinews of their Government, that all their Conquests over us shall avail them little, or perhaps even become a Charge to them.

DULLNESS be praised, all Thoughts are now dropt of making Ireland a Corn Country. I own, I am surprised their Cler­gy do not attempt it, as it would so much encrease their Tythes. They have talked of publick Granaries, but it was meer Talk; nor shall I remind them of it.—Indeed an Attempt was once made to encourage Til­lage, by granting, as in England, a Bounty [Page 264] on Corn exported; but your Foolishness nobly exerted yourself on that Occasion, and de­feated the Project. You rightly judged, that though Pasturage employed the Land, it was in no Shape so prejudicial to your In­terest as Ploughing, which fills a Country with laborious Inhabitants.

WITHOUT Vanity I may say, I gave the first Hint of restraining Ireland, with Re­gard to WOOLL, and then, I dexterously con­trived, that the English might smuggle it as well as themselves. The happy Consequence is, that Thousands of the French are amused in manufacturing of it, whilst as many of your Rebel Subjects are starving at Home.—To my great Joy, this cannot suddenly be al­ter'd; for so long as the Irish love Mutton, and feed Millions of Sheep; and so long as they have more Wooll, than their home Con­sumption requires, so long will they act on the Principles of their Neighbours, and sell it to the best Bidder.—Perhaps your Foolish­ness will be surprized, that so large a King­dom as France or Spain should want Irish or English Wooll: But—let me wisper in your Ear.—All their Wooll cannot make one Piece of Serge.—Why this is so, LEEDS, and every Cloathing Town in England can bet­ter explain than I.—Should they ever at­tempt a Change in this Matter, let us get a [Page 265] Burrough or two to petition against it, and order your Brother CLAMOUR to attend.— They are truly, in this Respect, in the Way we wish them in; nor do I believe they will alter, till they are convinced, That it is more eligible to encourage the Subjects of Ire­land in some certain Branches of Trade, than by a contrary Conduct, drive those Branches into the Arms of the common Enemy.

THE general Rule, and the most success­ful is, eternally to play one Part of the Mo­narchy against the other, and constantly to keep up that noble Spirit of Grumbling, and turning every Act of their Government into Ridicule. What MACHIAVEL says of a Prince, may well be applied to GREAT-BRITAIN and Ireland. ‘They ought a­bove all things carefully to avoid render­ing themselves odious or despicable; for such a Conduct protects them from eve­ry Danger.’—Could we contrive, not only to make them odious and despi­cable in the Eyes of their Neighbours, but likewise to each other, how happy should we be!

MAY our Endeavours prosper! and may your Foolishness once more shine on the Throne of your Ancestors!—May ENG­LAND think hardly of SCOTLAND.—May [Page 266] SCOTLAND abuse IRELAND.—And may IRELAND envy one, and reproach the o­ther!—May this regular Confusion have no End, until that Day, when your Fool­ishness, in the Fullness of your Glory, shall say, ‘Now indeed are ye all my Child­ren.’

SHOULD the Reverse happen, and their Wisdom prevail over us.—Should the PRO­TESTANT WORKING SCHOOLS in Ireland continue to be supported by the Charity of England, without which they cannot sub­sist.—Should the Linen Manufacture of that Kingdom, instead of being ruined, become more powerfully protected and en­couraged by this.—Should they fall on equitable Ways, to prevent exporting Wooll to France. In short, should they become Wise and Industrious, and by the natural Union of the Members to the Head, assist and not destroy each other. Should these come to pass, what must become of Us, and Our numerous Offspring!—For­bid it, all ye Gods of Error!—O Mi­sery! all that could remain for us, would be to fly to ROME, AVIGNON, Boulogn, or St. Germains.—There be­moan our unhappy Fate, talk of our for­mer Splendor, and live on the Bounty of [Page 267] our Relations; for work we cannot, but to beg we are not ashamed.—There with my latest Breath I shall honour and revere your Name, and expire in a Wish for your Re­storation. I am with all Duty,

Your most faithful and Affectionate Kinsman, Thomas à Stupidius.

This Day is publish'd, THE Practical SURVEYOR, OR, THE Art of Land-Measuring made EASY.

Shewing by plain and familiar Rules, how to Survey any Piece of Land whatsoever, by the Plain-Table, Theodolite, or Circumferentor: or, by the Chain only. And how to Protract, Cast up, Reduce and Divide the same. Likewise, an easy Me­thod of Protracting Observations made with the Meridian; and how to cast up the Content of any Plot of Land, by reducing any Multangular Figure to one Triangle. To which is added, an Appendix, Shewing how to Draw Buildings, &c. in Perspec­tive: of Levelling; and also how to Measure standing Timber

By SAMUEL WYLD. The Third Edition; corrected and enlarged by a careful Hand; and illustrated with several Copper Plates.

Printed for H. Lintot, and sold by W. Johnston, at the Golden-Ball in St. Paul's Church-yard. Price Three Shillings.

This Day is published, Dedicated to the Right Honourable Philip Earl of Chesterfield. The Second Edition of LES MOEURS; or, MANNERS.

Accurately Translated from the French. Wherein the Principles of Morality, or Social Duties, viz. Piety, Wisdom, Pru­dence, Fortitude, Justice, Temperance, Love, Friendship, Humanity, &c. &c. are described in all their Branches; the Obligations of them shown to consist in our Nature, and the Enlargement of them strongly enforc'd. Here Parents are taught, that, giving Birth to a Child, scarcely entitles them to that honourable Name, without a strict Discharge of Parental Duties; the Friend will find, there are a Thousand other Decorums, besides the doing of a Favour, to entitle him to the tender Name of Friend; and the Good-natur'd Man will find, he ought to extend that Quality beyond the Bounds of his own Neighbour­hood or Party.

The Whole wrote in a Manner entirely New and Entertaining, and enliven'd with real Characters, drawn from Life, and fitted to instill the Principles of all social Virtues into tender Minds.

Printed for W. Johnston at the Golden Ball in St. Paul's Church Yard.

Be careful to ask for the MANNERS dedicated to the Earl of CHESTERFIELD.

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