distinction among us. The next place of resort
wherein the servile world are let loose is at the
entrance of Hyde Park, while the gentry are at
the ring. Hither people bring their lacqueys
out of state, and here it is that all they say at
their tables and act in their houses is communicated
to the whole town."

The valet-de-chambre of a great man, was a
very important personage. At the levee of his
master, no one could see the great man unless
the valet was pleased to let him enter the room.
Poets and men of letters had to propitiate the
valet before their verses would be read by the
patron. Hence, in romances and comedies the
valet plays an important part.

In contemplating the picture of the servants
of our ancestors, we must remember that their
masters did not set them a very good example.
The conduct of a master necessarily has great
influence on his servants. A master can either
intimidate a young and inexperienced servant
by pride and severity, or he can, by a discreet
combination of gentleness and firmness, make
him a good servant; the rule is not infallible,
but there is encouragement enough to try it. In
Addison's time, there seems to have prevailed
among masters excessive pride. Referring to it
in the Spectator, Addison gives a picture of the
miseries experienced by some servants who had
the misfortune to be in the service of masters
who thought that the only way of obtaining
respect was by treating their servants as harshly
as they could. He says, in No. 137, of the
Spectator: "There are, as these unhappy
correspondents inform me, masters who are offended
at a cheerful countenance, and think a servant
is broke loose from them if he does not preserve
the utmost awe in their presence. There is one
who says, if he looks satisfied, his master asks
him what makes him so pert this morning; if a
little sour, ' Hark ye, sirrah, are not you paid
your wages?' The poor creatures live in the
most extreme misery together. The master
knows not how to preserve respect, nor the
servant how to give it."

This is a gloomy view of the life of a servant,
but the same writer gives the picture of a
model master in the person of Sir Roger de
Coverly; in whose household he observes one
pleasant circumstance, namely: "There is one
particular which I have seldom seen but at
Sir Roger's. It is usual, in all other places,
that servants fly from the parts of the house
through which their master is passing; on the
contrary, here they industriously place themselves
in his way; and it is on both sides, as it
were, understood as a visit, when the servants
appear without calling."

Attachment has not only existed between
master and servants, but also between master
and slaves. In the revolution of slaves in Italy,
some slaves ventured at the peril of their
lives to save their masters from infuriated
assailants. Addison gives a touching account of
the grief experienced by a servant on the death
of his young master. The servant writing to
the Spectator, says, "It was the will of Providence
that Master Harry was taken very ill of
a fever of which he died within ten days of his
first falling sick. Here was the first sorrow I
ever knew; and I assure you, Mr. Spectator, I
remember the beautiful action of the sweet
youth in his fever, as fresh as if it were yesterday.
If he wanted anything it must be given
him by Tom; when I let anything fall, through
the grief I was under, he would cry, ' Do not
beat the poor boy; give him some more julep
for me; nobody else shall give it me.' He would
strive to hide his being so bad, when he saw I
could not bear his being in so much danger, and
comforted me, saying, ' Tom, Tom, have a good
heart.' When I was holding a cup at his
mouth, he fell into convulsions; and at this
very time I hear my dear master's last groan."

A true attachment does not for the least
diminish the respect of the servant towards the
master. A master often forfeits true and real
respect by false pride, and by treating his
dependents as so many blocks of wood or stone,
instead of human beings endowed with
susceptibilities and feelings.

Much abuse has been bestowed on the
servants of the present day: sometimes too
deservedly, but often undeservedly. Modern
servants are a better educated class than those
of our ancestors, and they are, speaking of
them as a body, hardworking and honest.
There are often faults on the side of the
employers; faults of want of consideration, and
want of respect for the feelings of people
in an inferior position. Ingratitude will be
found among servants as among all sorts and
conditions of humanity, but assuredly few
servants do their duty the worse for knowing that
while the doing of it is scrupulously exacted,
they are thought of, cared for, encouraged,
pleasantly spoken to and pleasantly looked at.

TUNNEL SPIDERS.

"Take care of my spiders." It was Antonio
Magliobecchi who laid this imperative injunction
upon the Grand-Duke of Tuscany. I like the
expression, for it has the smack of the true
lover of spiders about it, placing sovereigns in
their proper position in the scale of being in
comparison with spiders. Antonio Magliobecchi
the librarian of the Pitti Palace at Florence,
loved books and spiders—ancient books and tame
spiders—and owned no other loves. He lived in
a crib up in a corner of the library, with the books
he read and the spiders he fed. Every hour he
called his spiders out of their nests to receive
their food, and, it is said, they knew his voice
and obeyed his call. Plants, birds, fish, in
cases, cages, and vases, or conservatories, aviaries
and aquaria, have been company to lone folks,
and spiders seem to suit the loneliest of all, the
solitary prisoner, and the unsocial recluse.
Spider-taming may suit some tempers better
than growing flowers, training song birds, or
watching prawns, and I say every one to his
taste, or every man in his humour; but this
much is certain that spider cages or cases would