I THE HISTORY OF CHARLES JONE THE FOOTMAN. Written by Himself. HOWARD and EVANS, Tract5 >)N 4] ap Re P° sit °ry for Moral and Religious J ' HA TCH \m- nd H> Lon S" L ane > West-Smithfield, and ^ARD/Bath.' a -^ 190 - ?icca *% Lpnfa*- By S. ^vk crs *P*})? all Booksellers, Newsmen, and ^olr!p be ^ t0 Sh °P kee ^ s and Hawker*. fctfW^ ^ ^ 6s ' P er Hundred. 22 at fttettdwfw jpau ffftARLES JONES, kc. MY father, George Jones,- commonly egjy Black George, on account of his swaitht Complexion, was one of the most industrious meoij the whole village. His cottage, which was his owe, and pavtly built by his own hands, stands- dB- the Common/about ^stone's east frctff the roaft n^tle great oak tree, in the parish of King's Charieton, in Somersetshire. The Lord of the Manor having Stinted hr#i teav-g to inclose a frit of the Common ret a garden, my father had got a thriving young orchard and a long strip of potatoes, besides coUag", a-U tfte produces of his own industry. II used to- he a fe'VoCkfife saying with him, that no nfc to whom Sod has given two hands, htrf ever need to wane. " For my part/' says he; ff 1 never knew what want wasr. " When I am sick, tie club supports me-: and when I am well, 1 wa»tHI supper!: tfryself." My mother, besides beingequally industrious, was much more religious, and there fore much happier. She wa's as good and asswe«' tempered a w-emaft as any in the world, |e next where she Wi?L For constancy at M 1 worship, civility to her neighbours, ciean« j her own person, her house and her chiloW .had not her fellow. But the most remar. fn he* (I am afraid a very ivncbnim^tftjgi^ &ef steady and uninterrupted practice ^ y prayer.- ft -must have been a haydaay* deed that hindered her from her f n 1*'$$ in the morning and eight in the' evening^. ^ larly as ever the hour came, she always ^ ,. e j with her children round her, four of jtf with great solemnity and devotion^ .^,,tM given lier by the clergyman, which c Ao the Lord's : Prayer, "in which we aiu fi ^.{caj she used to say after she had finish*; ^ ^ M ' tombed or to work, W V tm 3 • rnrl will protect us." I am sorry to say my Kdom joined with us. He used to pretend Jit? or tired; and yet it would not have Wd him long neither, for we were never more tosix minutes about it,and surely twelve minutes aday (six in the morning and six in the evening) » no great time to give to God. One thing ha* often struck me, that if any thing went wrong and tied my dear mother's temper, or made her un- the prayer seemed to set it all to rights, she had been to prayers, all her grief seemed lie fled away. And indeed, I observed th e same ing with respect to my father, if ever he did join. A us, it always seemed somehow to compose and weetenhis mind, and make him a great deal kinder fty mother arid us, ' ; As my father and mother were very industrious ^selves, they were very desirous to make their c wen so; every child was employed as soon as Pas able in something or other. At about een years of age my employment had been 4Hor e tlme to weed in ** ie P arson,s gardeci and ^hia rands for him - At fourteen he took me fen' and not a littl e proud was I at bb- %4lir Ue 0fhis " l[t{lt footman." The IS as k* my rathe *' scotta g e > my dear mother, ^Waff^ US she was Sood, appeared to be ^ to the wid eCted ; Stle said slle couid not commit ^'ho ® Worid > ^ithoutfirstcommictingme lltle Wher V T ed [t 9 * nd t:hen she knelt down **W tow 5 and P ra yed, " Gracious Lord to h ^ytemm?' Guard him > 1 beseech thee, ■h* Mavi? Which he is now beginning Ms dutV ! e W i lth solid P iet y and horjest di - feed th- L lr y hat state of life 'in which it luce him-"She th r „ ^ fount >4o her blessing, put a Testament into my pocket, iil me fear God, and always act for my master isi would do for myself. In my new situation' there v/ere to be suresome few things disagreeable. My mistress was peevisa and fretful; the cook violent and passionate. But •what service is there, or indeed, what situation in life, howsoever much above servitude, in #1 there is not something unpleasant. Everystatela its trials; servants have theirs; but if they can* learn to put up with some little inconvenient they may change their places every year oMW lives, and never be satisfied after all. lesson I have learnt by long experience. Though by God's blessing I had received a* religious education than most children, i cj appeared that I had many faults, f whicn - j cessary for me to be corrected ot beio j , i , a, first wnen i »° become a good servant. At ^ upon an errand, I was much giver i to was then too young to consider t nai : t ^ ^ errands 1 v\as wasting what was no . ^ master's time. Besides this fauK, >_ which I saw and heard in my m f* l bem \\ such as I had never seen and h e ar ( i too ant to talk of it to my old play , the village shop. But as soon v is ,„ s a little older, 1 began to reflect that ^ * wrong. One Sunday evening, * fiil jt go home to see my P^jf- 1 a great p my mother how there had been t } . the parsonage the day before ^ put her hands upon my lips. ^ the par j a word more of what has Pf *L ter >s ho«* Whatsoever happens in your -i de0 ^ snoken out of your is" A ! trus t which his master puts in him. ,, — &s vehemence surprised me a little but !{ de so much impression upon me that I was I well broken of the fault from that very time. Lhow many scrapes has this talkative temper brought many servants of my acquaintance ! There was poor Nic. Jarrett, the Squire's under footman, that lost his place, a new suit of black broad-cloth, pda legacy of five pounds, which he would soon lave had by reason of his master's death, only for saying aj: a neighbour's house, that his mistress sometimes fell asleep while the Squire was reading to the family on a Sunday night. Nic, and I were at one time rather too intimate ; Iremember one day, when 1 was about sixteen, hav - tog attended my master to the Squire's house, Nic. prevailed onmeafterdinner to play withhim at pitch andtcss. I was worth at that t me five shillings and twopence, more money than I had ever possessed win my life. In about two hours Nic. reduced ^omy last shilling. But though it was a heavy Wrc at that time, yet it proved in the end a happy the? A 1 by n ' y motner ' s persuasion, I resolved u Tt ri never 10 ^ me a & ain as lon S as 1 foB* resolu -on, by God's grace, 1 have '0 Happily kept. I wish from my heart that Mceof a tS i W ° uld resolve the sa ™ e > Th( * ^tsinlarp P . a . yin ^ so corn nion amongst ser- Possibly f a n • amilie ^ ls the worst custom they can ft ^ J gh for it mt o My P °° r brother lom suffered NWp '„'« . *ky» having received in the kefore nithTlT ^ he lost the whole of * >nce?\Vh i" tours; and what W3S the con- 7Practices y V 4 ? mthat ver y tline > he took to Srui n. Hn Cheatln S ^ master which ended rVants > instead ? UGh better would [t be ail w wasting their tei&ure in card- 6 playing, they would amuse themselves in P ; some godly book or improve themselves in 2| or cyphering... It was by this means, f or 1 w 7 T ^J ri ^\ th T aC 1 ^ lified ^eifforl place of Bailiff which 1 now fill. I remember Nic. used to say, < Whilst my m tcr plays at cards in the parlor, why shouldst thoube so squeamish as not to play in the kitchen.' But did not consider that h is master being rich, and play! ing for small sums, his losses laid him under no tem ptat ion of dishonesty in order to repair to; besides the Squire could read and write at anytime, whereas this was our only leisure time, and if we did not improve ourselves then, we nevet could— what might be comparatively innocent in might be ruinous to us. And even if my rnastei be a professed gambler, that is no reason I should be so too. A servant is to do what is right let his master do w hat he will. If a master swears and gets drunk, and talks at table with indecency, or against God and religion, to God he must account for it, and a sorry account it will be 1 doubt; but his example will not excuse our cringes, though it^vi aggravate his. We must take care of #fj souls, whether our masters take care of theirs j> not.. But to return to my history, I am ashanie ]ier say that I was guilty more than once in the^ part of my servitude, of the shocking and tie ble crime? oflying, in order to excuse ■ my faults. Happily I was cured of it lowing manner; having been one clay °* nl3S . carry a bottle of wine to a sick ma^ope^^ ter's" parishioners, I accidentally bro Ke he ^tl and of course lost the wine. What was * • ^ Should I confess my misfortune ^^sQ^ my carelessness, or conceal it by a we . ^ ^(oi^ deliberation, I resolved upon the lie. ^nrde up my story, " how the poor man seut to my master and thanked him a thousand ? and that he was * Uttle better, jltrf that hu : fe aidshc thought this wine would saw* his lite/ L„ thus prepared as I was returning heme, I met I pedlar, of whom J hough: for a penny a lit- tie book, containing a story of a won^n of Devizes, jfefW struck dead on the spot for telling a lie.— - Tobesure it was Heaven that seat this pedlar to jiie, to save me from. the sic I was going to com- mit, Jf this woman was struck dead for a lie/ said It<) myself, 1 why may not I ? I therefore went .directly home, and made a confession of ray n-egli- gecceanij misfortune. And it is well for me I did ; for the sick man, whose duty and trunks i had wlok- edjy intended to carry to my master was dead, as I uatetood afterwards, three hours before the hot- ibas token. -From this time therefore I begaia fwytft ! ai» now fully convinced of, that be*- s ie^ke sinfuteess of lying, it is always more for w litest lasting comfort ef servants to epnr j^the tmth at o.nce, than to conceal a fault by mm. When a servant has told a lie he is *m danger of: its being found out, and sooner of J« generally j s found out, and then his charac- L h , W ^&> if fee .confesses the truth af m^^y^m^^m^ my anger at all, tolf hml 7 ^ $mmwm* »n4 *SS?i^ W masiter^alfei WtfjSf*- ' - * tU * ¥ ' 1>y})ere lie s i?ent 9 goo **ul diligence of your licence nlT faults which y° u have, farther ' im more years will, I doubt not, cu^. You are now qualified for abetter place fnan min? and are entitled to higher wages than it is in power to give. I have therefore recomniJ e you to a friend of mine in London, for which pkc you are to set out, if you approve it, in a month But I should think it a crime to dismiss you to situation so full of temptations, without giving gome little advice. Listen, therefore, my'dear Charles, to what I shall say, as I mean it only for your good. In the first place, fear God ; and then you will never have any occasion to be afraid of man. Act always in his presence. Never enter or quit your bed without prayer. Do always for your master, as you would your master, if you were to change places, should do for you. Endeavor to get a pious friend, but avoid, as you would the plague, all wicked company. Be cautious of too great familiarity with your female fellow servants; | en unlawful intercourse of this kind will ruin job. body and soul. Flee from an alehouse as you would j from the devil ! if you once get into it, you wiling be out of it. Keep your money, and your mone) will keep you. Here, Charles, is a Bible ItfJJ the more vou read it, the more you will i ovei ' j the more you love it, the better y 0UWll .*\fJj the happier. 1 have written some directions^ you in the first page cf it. God bless y.^^ when my race which is now drawing^ shall finish, may we meet in heaven. j kindness so affected me, that I could not an* . for tears. I wa* indeed very glad <*g $ j fine a place as London, though at * e .* trea tei could not leave a house where I had ]t . more like a child than a servant, witno ; 5 ^ gret. I shall not attempt to descriD e ^ ^ with my mother. No description l^ ^^j do justice to the solemn and affection* j beexilor t,d me to be pious and just , and re. Inended me to God in prayer. Her last words I 111 never forget. ' I know my dear son, said she, -iatYOU love me tenderly, and that you would DOtff ive me unnecessary pain on any account/, Re- member then, that whenever you do any wrong thing, you are planting a dagger in your mother's hot!' With these words, her eyes brim full of tears, and her hands lifted up in silent prayer to God, she turned away from me, and went into the cot- tage.- — And now reader, you find me in the great and dangerous city of London, in the service* of a very wealthy master, who kept twelve servants be- sidesmyself. If country people knew London as well as I do, how cautious they would be of exchanging their safe and peaceful situations in the country for the perils and temptations of a great city. How many young fellows have I known, who lived ho- Myand happily in their native place, come up to Wen in the hope of higher wages, and there for- , integrity, their peace of mind, their health, ^character and souls. Workmen in particular hv7i ° f gettin S int0 lar g e cities > because U ttmktheir labor will turn to better account ^ »an in their own villages. They do not con- ^ Win a city, they must give as much for a |^™ om ^a f mthyhouse, inhabited by half a hS* SltUated in acIose > smoaky, dirty kumZ C ™ y , W ° uId *f rent of a cot- Vvisi n - not consid er tile dearness Ho m b a d ln a Clt - V ' the tem ptations they are un- of nu 611 ' Wicked company, and the great ? a Hth a t i i USCS - In short, I am fully per- ^» better iff t ° k rer in the country, on a shilling a If Whe n I cam. ! ° De in a citv on two shillings. | r *e ti m t ^ 0l ^y place, * found every thing ■L 6 01 lour <% s very smooth and % * never stopped to consi- *dit 0llt >{ b f on ffed to my place or not, but ^to6ii n ? nd : lfan Y body took it into Ids of WaVk th m0, 1 g ene ralty disarmed him I always p i lnisconf ltict happened in the J endeavoured to hu& it up, and never Ms parried any tales to the master, m] W y . £ny body wronging Itm, and then I tfoMM |«ty, or unless the thing was very bad £ ' rtftf, by pursuing always this line of C0 X mud my situation very comfortable andaS My master treated me with great confidS loudness ; my fellow-servants with great friJ Jiess and respect. In about two years time the foot- |W1 that used t0 go to market being turned away for drunkenness, which vice soon proved his ruin, paster told me that as he believed I was an honest »md careful young man, and perceiving that I coil write and keep an account, he should in future em- £loy me in marketing. To market, therefore, I ^yent every day, and as I had now a good deal of master's money always in my hands, I prayed fieartiiy to God, that he would be pleased to pre- serve me under t he temptation to which this expo- setl me. My first exploit in this way was the pur- j^hace of ten shiliing's-worthof fruit at a fruiterer's, When I had finished my bargain and was coming put of the shop, the fruiterer slipped a shilling into my hand. As 1 had never, to the best of myrecollej \\on, seen him before, I was somewhat supri^ipj generosity ; but fortunately had the presenceoW fq ask him whether he had charged the W| fiigher on account of this present to me. t Jj young man, (said he; that is an honest ^ s ^ I will give you an honest answer. Ihe tac^ as we know that gentlemen of your clot . some compliment from the tradesman nj^ $ith, we are obliged in our own clefen f ^jr^s* gtur articles the higher on that account tp ^ fens." " And so," said I, "the money yoi fomes from tlie pockets of our ^ as [ er f/j w jpftl| ^re it does."— " Why, then," said l > Wive shilling but shall charge myniasi? iiiling 13 H And this method I constantly pursued U, like case ever after; for 1 think the above* 11 i nrctice of footmen, which, however, 1 ? Stvery common with them, is just the 2 jffin conscience as if they should rob their iter's bureau, One Monday morning, haV-" Lettled my account for the last week with my raster, I found that he had made a mistake against himself of L 20s. As soon as I discovered it, I said to myself, "here now is an opportunity of getting 20s. without any risk or detection ; but God forbid that I should do it, as it would ruin my peace ot mind, and destroy my soul. I therefore pointed out the error to my master the first opportunity.' 1 ♦"Charles," said he, " you are right, the mistake is obvious. I acknowledge I made it purposely to try your honesty. You shall find that this affair will turnout, before long, to your advantage." Now; though 1 do not think it quite fair for masters to lay this kind of trap for their servants' integrity, yet as I tow by experience they sometimes do it, we Must be doubly on our guard. Dishonesty indeed , ls never safe, for it will always out somehow of i Mer. I have seen surprising instances of the dis- covery of it, when it seemed to have bean ~ommited ^sLichcunningasto be impossible tobe detected; neday as I was going to market, I met sir Ilo- * Tastier, who to* me, that having long ob- vec my sobriety and diligence, he was hapnv to mwr m hi " power t0 ° iTcr mc a P Ince in hl $ botui* am y ' wherc m y wages would be raised shofij h 6aS U i - ear; 1 tbanked bim, and tedd him hz time I J1L UnsWer next evening In the near m,uu T U P on a Pious and worthy friend Whtfni 1 After matm f dlfhculties > and ask6d his ^iori: 1°. n dellbera tion, he said, * Charley don't you are o~ J ♦ «*ick to it like a leech. The rolling stone i moss. The more years you continue in ones! the more you are respected by your master 'Jj the world. A good lamily considers an old , e "l as one o4 themselves, and can no more see him™ than a near relation. Whereas servants that are J tinually roving from place to place, have no friend in distress, and seldom get a provision for old aft" Happy it was for me that I followed this good $ vice. If 1 had not, 1 should probably have bee nothing more than a poor footman all iny life. But before I bring my own story to an end, I m beg my reader's patience, to listen to the sad fate my poor brother Tom. Alas! poor Tom, a great favourite in our kitchen, because he the best song, and told the mefriest tale, anipi his card-money the most, freely of any gentleiii footman about town. And then he swore so mS like a gentleman, and was so complaisant to tk ladies, and pushed about the strong beersomerij that he was, said our servants, the most agre company in the world. And yet all these enterta ing qualities did not preserve my poor brothern*om the most dreadful state of distress and rain. One * morning became to me about ton o'clock with a ve- ry woeful lace, winch was a thing very unusual tor j him, and told me that he had just been turned away | irorn his place witho.it a character, that he ai money, many debts, and no real friend*, an dv y a * worse than all,-t-hut he was labouring* unci er dis^j Tom grew wo rse eve ry da y ,and was at leng 8 ^ over. In the morning of that day, while J , lingat his beside, who should come in but ij.^ mother. Slue had walked 130 miles, e * c . e P^ fl a ni then a lift in the waggon, to ■ utt end i 1.^ ^ comfovther undeserving son. ^ vnen slllll ed ^ pale and emaciated, and his face hah cop in- 1 ... 1 „\ oc i&\ hen that she fainted iiW&jh F 11 ^^ and was a little relieved fSSoodof tears, she said, - my dear ?m> PS can Alas 5 mother/' answered he, put* Ute clay cold hand into her's, « fa toe late. I 2 but few bears to Sr* It is by^egkretmg pr advice that I am brought to this. Gaming; tfrk? lit and bad company, arid bad women have beerr my ruin. ! what will become of my soul ! 11 I could bi^t live n?y life over again" Here he was kized with a suckle n St, and though he lived Some tars, he never spoke after, and died that evening in my mother's arms. MterrecouMingthe sorrowful history o firry imhajx. py brother, i must now hasten to conclude my own.. to a twetyfc*itoi$> after the offer of a place in Sir- 's family, my master, in consiricra*i y an, as ny faithful services, made me his butler, ^as indeed' so kind andffrietedly to me on all oc- casions, that I found it necessary to he extreme!.* Pokiest I should grow proud; or saucy, or la- r^iieh some servants, when they have lived place', and fiirf themselves in favour, art* if ; After en j°ying ^is post about si\ ye;irs ; f J«Hly being now removed into the eaimiry, I | rt ? aintance wi ™ a farmer's daughter living l%o? eatl:iou ' se ' w hom, 6n account of her tet h\lV^ mtvhm Principles and her amiable Mtemjfer.l wished to make my wife, dancing 2?? aunter in line clothes, none Of your #*tenbT R ^^^ aTd h ^> ^ about try P-¥oft TevelSi and ho P s ' th; ' vt v/}1} niln lt 1% at-V- — * V*®^ he is ; htit a pious so- ^^eanvTI' lndust ™us yoqftg woman ; ftUk N^erfc ymi 8 ht - have h:id her for me - A ^ ^nguUty ofany unnecessary expend, 1(5 for nobody will call that unnecessary *hirU yearly to my parents ; my savings, the inS mg added yearly to the principle in the h-rd my master, amounted to two hundred pounds 11 as Fanny's father promised to give her anoS hundred, I thought we might with this take asm! farm and mam tai n ourselves comfortable and im I therefore communicated the affair to my master, ' Charles, (said he,) though I am loth to partwia so good a servant, yet I think it an act of gratitude due to you for your long and faithful services,!! consent readily to any thing which may be feo^ welfare. But I do not think it necessary fori ;; part at all. Iam at present in want of a bai- you may, if you approve it, undertake than office,! and still retain your present wages. Your in law, who is an experienced firmer, will instruct and assist you in the duties of it. I will, besides, 1:( you a small farm on an advantageous lease, * you may make the most of for yourself/ To this kind and generous ofJer I joyf ed. And Fanny and myself have now filer six years in the farm house near the fflt happy and prosperous, My father being my brother and sister settled, my mother f ' now very old, lives with me, and by ne ^ e yl| and exhortation, I find a sense of religion sinMj cr and deeper into my soul every day ; an ^ I am firmly convinced by long ex P^ iel ^' t ii there is nothing in this world can make happy but that. t wrote by >* I address this little book which i ^ ^Jfrm and little in the long evenings ot th e las ^ ^ ter, to all footmen. I hope they wi u J ind ] y # with my well meant endeavors, but taK is intended only for their good. THE END.