No More Learning

_La. _ How, with a Net?

_Ba. _ No, with a Bow.

_La. _ That's a new Way of Fishing!

_Ba. _ But 'tis a pleasant one; you'll say so, when you see it.

_Vi. _ What if we two should play at holding up our Fingers?

_Ba. _ That's an idle, clownish Play indeed, fitter for them that are
sitting in a Chimney Corner, than those that are ranging in the Field.

_Vi. _ What if we should play at Cob-Nut?

_Pa. _ Let us let Nuts alone for little Chits, we are great Boys.

_Vi. _ And yet we are but Boys for all that.

_Pa. _ But they that are fit to play at Cob-Nut, are fit to ride upon a
Hobby-Horse.

_Vi. _ Well then, do you say what we shall play at; and I'll play at what
you will.

_Pa. _ And I'll be conformable.




_SCHOLASTIC STUDIES. _


The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy treats of scholastic Studies, and School
Plays, I. The Boys going into the School. The striking of
a Clock. A whipping Master. Of saying a Lesson. Fear
hurts the Memory. 2. Of Writing, the Paper sinks. Of
making a Pen. Of a hard Nip. A soft Nip. Of writing
quick, well. _


SYLVIUS, JOHN.

_Sy. _ What makes you run so, _John? _

_Jo. _ What makes a Hare run before the Dogs, as they use to say?

_Sy. _ What Proverb is this?

_Jo. _ Because unless I am there in Time, before the Bill is called over,
I am sure to be whipp'd.

_Sy. _ You need not be afraid of that, it is but a little past five: Look
upon the Clock, the Hand is not come to the half Hour Point yet.

_Jo. _ Ay, but I can scarce trust to Clocks, they go wrong sometimes.

_Sy. _ But trust me then, I heard the Clock strike.

_Jo. _ What did that strike?

_Sy. _ Five.

_Jo. _ But there is something else that I am more afraid of than that, I
must say by Heart a good long Lesson for Yesterday, and I am afraid I
can't say it.

_Sy. _ I am in the same Case with you; for I myself have hardly got mine
as it should be.

_Jo. _ And you know the Master's Severity. Every Fault is a Capital one
with him: He has no more Mercy of our Breeches, than if they were made
of a Bull's Hide.

_Sy. _ But he won't be in the School.

_Jo. _ Who has he appointed in his Place?

_Sy. Cornelius. _

_Jo. _ That squint-ey'd Fellow! Wo to our Back-Sides, he's a greater
Whip-Master than _Busby_ himself.

_Sy. _ You say very true, and for that Reason I have often wish'd he had
a Palsy in his Arm.

_Jo. _ It is not pious to wish ill to ones Master: it is our Business
rather to take Care not to fall under the Tyrant's Hands.

_Sy. _ Let us say one to another, one repeating and the other looking in
the Book.

_Jo. _ That's well thought on.

_Sy. _ Come, be of good Heart; for Fear spoils the Memory.

_Jo. _ I could easily lay aside Fear, if I were out of Danger; but who
can be at Ease in his Mind, that is in so much Danger.

_Sy. _ I confess so; but we are not in Danger of our Heads, but of our
Tails.

* * * * *

2. _Of Writing. _

CORNELIUS, ANDREW.

_Co. _ You write finely, but your Paper sinks. Your Paper is damp, and
the Ink sinks through it.

_An. _ Pray make me a Pen of this.

_Co. _ I have not a Pen-knife.

_An. _ Here is one for you.

_Co. _ Out on't, how blunt it is!

_An. _ Take the Hoan.

_Co. _ Do you love to write with a hard-nip'd Pen, or a soft?

_An. _ Make it fit for your own Hand.

_Co. _ I use to write with a soft Nip.

_An. _ Pray write me out the Alphabet.

_Co. _ Greek or Latin?

_An. _ Write me the Latin first; I'll try to imitate it.

_Co. _ Give me some Paper then.

_An. _ Take some.

_Co. _ But my Ink is too thin, by often pouring in of Water.

_An. _ But my Cotton is quite dry.

_Co. _ Squeeze it, or else piss in it.

_An. _ I had rather get some Body to give me some.

_Co. _ It is better to have of one's own, than to borrow.

_An. _ What's a Scholar without Pen and Ink?

_Co. _ The same that a Soldier is without Shield or Sword.

_An. _ I wish my Fingers were so nimble, I can't write as fast as another
speaks.

_Co. _ Let it be your first chief Care to write well, and your next to
write quick: No more Haste than good Speed.

_An. _ Very well; say to the Master when he dictates, no more Haste than
good Speed.

* * * * *

_A Form of giving Thanks.

PETER, CHRISTIAN. _

_Pe. _ You have oblig'd me, in that you have written to me sometimes. I
thank you for writing to me often. I love you, that you have not thought
much to send me now and then a Letter. I give you Thanks that you have
visited me with frequent Letters. I thank you for loading of me with
Packets of Letters. I thank you heartily that you have now and then
provoked me with Letters. You have oblig'd me very much that you have
honour'd me with your Letters. I am much beholden to you for your most
obliging Letters to me. I take it as a great Favour, that you have not
thought much to write to me.


_The Answer. _

_Ch. _ Indeed I ought to beg Pardon for my Presumption, who dar'd presume
to trouble a Man of so much Business, and so much Learning with my
unlearned Letters. I acknowledge your usual Humanity, who have taken my
Boldness in good Part. I was afraid my Letters had given you some
Offence, that you sent me no Answer. There is no Reason that you should
thank me, it is more than enough for me, if you have taken my Industry
in good Part.

* * * * *

_A Form of asking after News. _

_Pe. _ Is there no News come from our Country? Have you had any News from
our Countrymen? What News? Do you bring any News? Is there any News come
to Town? Is there any News abroad from our Country?


_The Answer. _

_Ch. _ There is much News; but nothing of Truth. News enough indeed; but
nothing certain. A great deal of News; but nothing to be depended upon.
Not a little News; but not much Truth. There is no News come. I have had
no News at all. Something of News; but nothing certain. There are a
great many Reports come to Town; but they are all doubtful. There is a
great deal of Talk; but nothing true, nothing certain. If Lies please, I
have brought you a whole Cart-Load of them. I bring you whole Bushels of
Tales. I bring you as many Lies as a good Ship will carry.

_Pe. _ Then unlade yourself as fast as you can, for fear you should sink,
being so over-freighted.

_Ch. _ I have nothing but what's the Chat of Barbers Shops, Coaches and
Boats.


_Han't you received any Letters. The Form_.

_Pe. _ Have you had no Letters? Have you had any Letters out of your own
Country? Have no Letters been brought to you? Have you receiv'd any
Letters? Have you had any Letters? Have you receiv'd any Letters from
your Friends? Are there no Letters come from _France_?


_The Answer. _

_Ch. _ I have received no Letters. I han't had so much as a Letter. I
han't had the least Bit of a Letter. No Body has sent me any Letter.
There is not the least Word come from any Body.
I have received no more
Letters for this long Time, than what you see in my Eye. Indeed I had
rather have Money than Letters. I had rather receive Money than Letters.
I don't matter Letters, so the Money does but come. I had rather be
paid, than be written to.

* * * * *

_I believe so. The Form. _

_Pe. _ I easily believe you. That is not hard to be believ'd. It is a
very easy Thing to believe that. Who would not believe you in that? He
will be very incredulous, that won't believe you in that Matter. In
Truth I do believe you. You will easily make me believe that. I can
believe you without swearing. What you say is very likely. But for all
that, Letters bring some Comfort. I had rather have either of them, than
neither.

* * * * *

_Of Profit. A Form. _

_Ch. _ What signifies Letters without Money? What signifies empty
Letters? What do empty Letters avail? What good do they do, what do they
profit, advantage? To whom are Letters grateful or acceptable without
Money? What Advantage do empty Letters bring? What are idle Letters good
for? What do they do? What use are they of? What are they good for? What
do they bring with them of Moment? What Use are empty Letters of?


_The Answer. _

_Pe. _ They are useful, fit, proper, to wipe your Breech with. They are
good to wipe your Backside with. If you don't know the Use of them, they
are good to wipe your Arse with. To wipe your Breech with. To wipe your
Backside with. They are good to cleanse that Part of the Body that often
fouls itself. They are good to wrap Mackrel in. Good to make up Grocery
Ware in.

* * * * *

_Of wishing well. _

1. _To a Man whose Wife is with Child. _

_Pe. _ What? are our little Friends well? How does your Wife do?

_Ch. _ Very well, I left her with her Mother, and with Child.

_Pe. _ I wish it may be well for you, and her too: To you, because you're
shortly to be a Father, and she a Mother. God be with you. I pray and
desire that it may be prosperous and happy to you both. I pray, I beg of
God that she, having a safe Delivery, may bear a Child worthy of you
both; and may make you a Father of a fine Child. I commend you that you
have shewed yourself to be a Man. I am glad you have prov'd yourself to
be a Man. You have shew'd yourself to be a Gallus, but not _Cybele_'s.
Now you may go, I believe you are a Man.

_Ch. _ You joke upon me, as you are used to do. Well, go on, you may say
what you please to me.

* * * * *

2. _To one coming Home into his own Country. _

_Ch. _ I hear, you have lately been in your own Country.

_Pe. _ I have so, I had been out of it a pretty While. I could not bear
to be out of it long. I could not bear to be out of my Parents Sight any
longer. I thought it long till I enjoy'd my Friends Company.

_Ch. _ You have acted very piously. You are very good Humour'd, to think
of those Matters. We have all a strange Affection for the Country that
hath bred us, and brought us forth.

_As_ Ovid _says_:

_Nescio quâ natale solum dulcedine cunctos
Ducit, et immemores non sinit esse sui. _

Pray tell me how did you find all Things there.

* * * * *

_All Things new. The Form. _

_Pe. _ Nothing but what was new. All Things changed, all Things become
new. See how soon Time changes all human Affairs. Methought I came into
another World. I had scarce been absent ten Years, and yet I admired at
every Thing, as much as _Epimenides_ the Prince of Sleepers, when he
first wak'd out of his Sleep.

_Ch. _ What Story is that? What Fable is that?

_Pe. _ I'll tell you if you are at Leisure.

_Ch. _ There is nothing more pleasant.

_Pe. _ Then order me a Chair and a Cushion.

_Ch. _ That's very well thought on, for you will tell Lyes the better,
sitting at Ease.

_Pe. _ Historians tell us a Story, of one _Epimenides_ a Man of _Crete_,
who taking a Walk alone by himself without the City, being caught in a
hasty Shower of Rain, went for Shelter into a Cave, and there fell
asleep, and slept on for seven and forty Years together.


_I don't believe it. The Form. _

_Ch. _ What a Story you tell? 'Tis incredible. What you say is not very
likely. You tell me a Fiction. I don't think 'tis true. You tell me a
monstrous Story. Are you not asham'd to be guilty of so wicked a Lye?
This is a Fable fit to be put among _Lucian's_ Legends.

_Pe. _ Nay, I tell you what is related by Authors of Credit, unless you
think _Aulus Gellius_ is not an Author of approv'd Credit.

_Ch. _ Nay, whatsoever he has written are Oracles to me.

_Pe. _ Do you think that a Divine dream'd so many Years? For it is
storied that he was a Divine.

_Ch. _ I am with Child to hear.


_The Answer. _

_Pe. _ What is it more than what _Scotus_ and the School-men did
afterwards? But _Epimenides_, he came off pretty well, he came to
himself again at last; but a great many Divines never wake out of their
Dreams.

_Ch. _ Well go on, you do like a Poet; But go on with your Lye.

_Pe. _ _Epimenides_ waking out of his Sleep, goes out of his Cave, and
looks about him, and sees all Things chang'd, the Woods, the Banks, the
Rivers, the Trees, the Fields; and, in short, there was nothing but was
new: He goes to the City, and enquires; he stays there a little While,
but knows no Body, nor did any Body know him: the Men were dress'd after
another Fashion, than what they were before; they had not the same
Countenances; their Speech was alter'd, and their Manners quite
different: Nor do I wonder it was so with _Epimenides_, after so many
Years, when it was almost so with me, when I had been absent but a few
Years.

_Ch. _ But how do your Father and Mother do? Are they living?

_Pe. _ They are both alive and well; but pretty much worn out with old
Age, Diseases, and lastly, with the Calamities of War.

_Ch. _ This is the Comedy of human Life. This is the inevitable Law of
Destiny.

* * * * *

_Words, Names of Affinity. _

_Pe. _ Will you sup at Home to Day?

_Ch. _ I am to sup abroad: I must go out to Supper.

_Pe. _ With whom?

_Ch. _ With my Father in Law; with my Son in Law; at my Daughter's in
Law; with my Kinsman. They are call'd, _Affines_, Kinsmen, who are
ally'd not by Blood, but Marriage.

_Pe. _ What are the usual Names of Affinity?

_Ch. _ A Husband and Wife are noted Names. _Socer_, Is my Wife's Father.
_Gener_, My Daughter's Husband. _Socrus_, My Wife's Mother. _Nurus_, My
Son's Wife. _Levir_, A Husband's Brother. _Levir_ is call'd by the Wife,
as _Helen_ calls _Hector_, _Levir_, because she was married to _Paris_.
_Fratria_, My Brother's Wife. _Glos_, A Husband's Sister. _Vitricus_, My
Mother's Husband. _Noverca_, My Father's Wife. _Privignus_, The Son of
my Wife or Husband. _Privigna_, The Daughter of either of them.
_Rivalis_, He that loves the same Woman another does. _Pellex_, She that
loves the same Man another does; as _Thraso_ is the Rival of
_Phroedria_, and _Europa_ the _Pellex_ of _Juno_.

* * * * *

_Of inviting to a Feast. _

_Dine with me to Morrow. _

_Pe. _ I give you Thanks, I commend you, I invite you to Supper against
to Morrow, I entreat your Company at Supper to Morrow. I desire you'd
come to Dinner with me to Morrow. I would have your Company at Dinner
to Morrow.


_I fear I can't come. _

_Ch. _ I fear I can't. I am afraid I can't. I will come if I can; but I
am afraid I can't.


_Why? _

_Pe. _ Why can't you? How so? Why so? Wherefore? For what Reason? For
what Cause? What hinders you that you can't.


_I must stay at Home. _

_Ch. _ Indeed I must be at Home at that Time. I must needs be at Home at
Night. I must not be abroad at that Time. I shall not have an
Opportunity to go out any where to Morrow. I must not be absent at
Dinner. I expect some Guests myself upon that Day. Some Friends have
made an Appointment to sup at our House that Night. I have some Guests
to entertain that Night, or else I would come with all my Heart. Unless
it were so, I would not be unwilling to come. If it were not so, I
should not want much entreating. I would make no Excuse if I could come.
If I could come, I would not be ask'd twice. If I could by any Means
come, I would come with a very little, or without any Invitation at all.
If I could, I would obey your Command very readily.