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doubly on our guard. Indeed, dishonesty is never safe. It always will out somehow or other.
I have seen surprizing instances of the discovery of it, when it seemed to have been committed with such cunning as to be impossible to be detected.
One day as I was going to market, I met Şir Robert S———'s butler, who told me, that having long observed my sobriety and diligence, he was happy to have it now in his power to offer me a place in his master's family, where my wages would be raised two guineas a year. I thanked him, and told him he should have his answer next evening. In the mean time I called upon a pious and worthy friend, whom I consulted in all difficulties, and asked his opinion. After mature deliberation, he said, 'Charles, don't go. When you are once got into a good place, stick to it like a leech. The rolling stone gets no moss. The more years you continue in one service, the more you are respected by your master and all the world. A good family considers an old servant as one of themselves, and can no more see him want than a near relation. Whereas servants that are continually roving from place to place, have no friend in distress, and seldom get a provision for old age.' Happy it was for me that I followed this good advice. If I had not, I should probably have been nothing more than a poor footman all my life.
But before I bring my own story to an end, I must beg my reader's patience, to listen to the sad fate of my poor brother Tom. Alas! poor
