No More Learning

_Pa. _ From the _Antipodes_.

_Co. _ Nay, but I believe you are come from the fortunate Islands.

_Pa. _ I am glad you know your old Companion, I was afraid I should come
home as _Ulysses_ did.

_Co. _ Why pray? After what Manner did he come Home?

_Pa. _ His own Wife did not know him; only his Dog, being grown very old,
acknowledg'd his Master, by wagging his Tail.

_Co. _ How many Years was he from Home?

_Pa. _ Twenty.

_Co. _ You have been absent more than twenty Years, and yet I knew your
Face again. But who tells that Story of _Ulysses_?

_Pa. _ _Homer. _

_Co. _ He? They say he's the Father of all fabulous Stories. It may be
his Wife had gotten herself a Gallant in the mean time, and therefore
did not know her own _Ulysses_.

_Pa. _ No, nothing of that, she was one of the chastest Women in the
World. But _Pallas_ had made _Ulysses_ look old, that he might not be
known.

_Co. _ How came he to be known at last?

_Pa. _ By a little Wart that he had upon one of his Toes. His Nurse, who
was now a very old Woman, took Notice of that as she was washing his
Feet.

_Co. _ A curious old Hagg. Well then, do you admire that I know you that
have so remarkable a Nose.

_Pa. _ I am not at all sorry for this Nose.

_Co. _ No, nor have you any Occasion to be sorry for having a Thing that
is fit for so many Uses.

_Pa. _ For what Uses?

_Co. _ First of all, it will serve instead of an Extinguisher, to put out
Candles.

_Pa. _ Go on.

_Co. _ Again, if you want to draw any Thing out of a deep Pit, it will
serve instead of an Elephant's Trunk.

_Pa. _ O wonderful.

_Co. _ If your Hands be employ'd, it will serve instead of a Pin.

_Pa. _ Is it good for any Thing else?

_Co. _ If you have no Bellows, it will serve to blow the Fire.

_Pa. _ This is very pretty; have you any more of it?

_Co. _ If the Light offends you when you are writing, it will serve for
an Umbrella.

_Pa. _ Ha, ha, ha! Have you any Thing more to say?

_Co. _ In a Sea-fight it will serve for a Grappling-hook.

_Pa. _ What will it serve for in a Land-fight?

_Co. _ Instead of a Shield.

_Pa. _ And what else?

_Co. _ It will serve for a Wedge to cleave Wood withal.

_Pa. _ Well said.

_Co. _ If you act the Part of a Herald, it will be for a Trumpet; if you
sound an Alarm, a Horn; if you dig, a Spade; if you reap, a Sickle; if
you go to Sea, an Anchor; in the Kitchen it will serve for a Flesh-hook;
and in Fishing a Fish-hook.

_Pa. _ I am a happy Fellow indeed, I did not know I carry'd about me a
Piece of Houshold Stuff that would serve for so many Uses.

_Co. _ But in the mean Time, in what Corner of the Earth have you hid
yourself all this While?

_Pa. _ In _Rome_.

_Co. _ But is it possible that in so publick a Place no Body should know
you were alive?

_Pa. _ Good Men are no where in the World so much _incognito_ as there,
so that in the brightest Day you shall scarce see one in a throng'd
Market.

_Co. _ Well, but then you're come home loaden with Benefices.

_Pa. _ Indeed I hunted after them diligently, but I had no Success; for
the Way of Fishing there is according to the Proverb, with a golden
Hook.

_Co. _ That's a foolish Way of Fishing.

_Pa. _ No Matter for that, some Folks find it a very good Way.

_Co. _ Are they not the greatest Fools in Nature that change Gold for
Lead?

_Pa. _ But don't you know that there are Veins of Gold in holy Lead?

_Co. _ What then! Are you come back nothing but a _Pamphagus_?

_Pa. _ No.

_Co. _ What then, pray?

_Pa. _ A ravenous Wolf.

_Co. _ But they make a better Voyage of it, that return laden with
Budgets full of Benefices. Why had you rather have a Benefice than a
Wife?

_Pa. _ Because I love to live at Ease. I love to live a pleasant Life.

_Co. _ But in my Opinion they live the most pleasant Life that have at
Home a pretty Girl, that they may embrace as often as they have a Mind
to it.

_Pa. _ And you may add this to it, sometimes when they have no Mind to
it. I love a continual Pleasure; he that marries a Wife is happy for a
Month, but he that gets a fat Benefice lives merrily all his Life.

_Co. _ But Solitude is so melancholy a Life, that _Adam_, in _Paradise_
could not have liv'd happily unless God had given him an _Eve_.

_Pa. _ He'll ne'er need to want an _Eve_ that has gotten a good Benefice.

_Co. _ But that Pleasure can't really be call'd Pleasure that carries an
ill Name and bad Conscience with it.

_Pa. _ You say true, and therefore I design to divert the Tediousness of
Solitude by a Conversation with Books.

_Co. _ They are the pleasantest Companions in the World. But do you
intend to return to your Fishing again?

_Pa. _ Yes, I would, if I could get a fresh Bait.

_Co. _ Would you have a golden one or a silver one?

_Pa. _ Either of them.

_Co. _ Be of good Cheer, your Father will supply you.

_Pa. _ He'll part with nothing; and especially he'll not trust me again,
when he comes to understand I have spent what I had to no Purpose.

_Co. _ That's the Chance of the Dice.

_Pa. _ But he don't like those Dice.

_Co. _ If he shall absolutely deny you, I'll shew you where you may have
as much as you please.

_Pa. _ You tell me good News indeed, come shew it me, my Heart leaps for
Joy.

_Co. _ It is here hard by.

_Pa. _ Why, have you gotten a Treasure?

_Co. _ If I had, I would have it for myself, not for you.

_Pa. _ If I could but get together 100 Ducats I should be in Hopes again.

_Co. _ I'll shew you where you may have 100,000.

_Pa. _ Prithee put me out of my Pain then, and do not teaze me to Death.
Tell me where I may have it.

_Co. _ From the _Asse Budæi_, there you may find a great many Ten
Thousands, whether you'd have it Gold or Silver.

_Pa. _ Go and be hang'd with your Banter, I'll pay you what I owe you out
of that Bank.

_Co. _ Ay, so you shall, but it shall be what I lend you out of it.

_Pa. _ I know your waggish Tricks well enough.

_Co. _ I'm not to be compar'd to you for that.

_Pa. _ Nay, you are the veriest Wag in Nature, you are nothing but
Waggery; you make a Jest of a serious Matter. In this Affair it is far
easier Matter to teaze me than it is to please me. The Matter is of too
great a Consequence to be made a Jest on. If you were in my Case you
would not be so gamesome; you make a mere Game of me; you game and
banter me. You joke upon me in a Thing that is not a joking Matter.

_Co. _ I don't jeer you, I speak what I think. Indeed I do not laugh, I
speak my Mind. I speak seriously. I speak from my Heart. I speak
sincerely. I speak the Truth.

_Pa. _ So may your Cap stand always upon your Head, as you speak
sincerely. But do I stand loitering here, and make no haste Home to see
how all Things go there?

_Co. _ You'll find a great many Things new.

_Pa. _ I believe I shall; but I wish I may find all Things as I would
have them.

_Co. _ We may all wish so if we will, but never any Body found it so yet.


_Pa. _ Our Rambles will do us both this Good, that we shall like Home the
better for Time to come.

_Co. _ I can't tell that, for I have seen some that have play'd the same
Game over and over again; if once this Infection seizes a Person he
seldom gets rid of it.




_OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE. _


The ARGUMENT.

_The wicked Life of Soldiers is here reprehended, and
shewn to be very miserable: That War is Confusion, and a
Sink of all manner of Vices, in as much as in it there is
no Distinction made betwixt Things sacred and profane.
The Hope of Plunder allures many to become Soldiers.
The
Impieties of a Military Life are here laid open, by this
Confession of a Soldier, that Youth may be put out of
Conceit of going into the Army. _


HANNO, THRASYMACHUS.

_Hanno. _ How comes it about that you that went away a _Mercury_, come
back a _Vulcan_?

_Thr. _ What do you talk to me of your _Mercuries_ and your _Vulcans_
for?

_Ha. _ Because you seem'd to be ready to fly when you went away, but
you're come limping Home.

_Thr. _ I'm come back like a Soldier then.

_Ha. _ You a Soldier, that would out-run a Stag if an Enemy were at your
Heels.

_Thr. _ The Hope of Booty made me valiant.

_Ha. _ Well, have you brought Home a good Deal of Plunder then?

_Thr. _ Empty Pockets.

_Ha. _ Then you were the lighter for travelling.

_Thr. _ But I was heavy loaden with Sin.

_Ha. _ That's heavy Luggage indeed, if the Prophet says right, who calls
Sin Lead.

_Thr. _ I have seen and had a Hand in more Villanies this Campaign than
in the whole Course of my Life before.

_Ha. _ How do you like a Soldier's Life?

_Thr. _ There is no Course of Life in the. World more wicked or more
wretched.

_Ha. _ What then must be in the Minds of those People, that for the Sake
of a little Money, and some out of Curiosity, make as much Haste to a
Battel as to a Banquet?

_Thr. _ In Truth, I can think no other but they are possess'd; for if the
Devil were not in them they would never anticipate their Fate.

_Ha. _ So one would think, for if you'd put 'em upon any honest Business,
they'll scarce stir a Foot in it for any Money. But tell me, how went
the Battel? Who got the better on't?

_Thr. _ There was such a Hallooing, Hurly-burly, Noise of Guns, Trumpets
and Drums, Neighing of Horses, and Shouting of Men, that I was so far
from knowing what others were a doing, that I scarcely knew where I was
myself.

_Ha. _ How comes it about then that others, after a Fight is over, do
paint you out every Circumstance so to the Life, and tell you what such
an Officer said, and what t'other did, as tho' they had been nothing but
Lookers on all the Time, and had been every where at the same Time?

_Thr. _ It is my Opinion that they lye confoundedly. I can tell you what
was done in my own Tent, but as to what was done in the Battel, I know
nothing at all of that.

_Ha. _ Don't you know how you came to be lame neither?

_Thr. _ Scarce that upon my Honour, but I suppose my Knee was hurt by a
Stone, or a Horse-heel, or so.

_Ha. _ Well, but I can tell you.

_Thr. _ You tell me? Why, has any Body told you?

_Ha. _ No, but I guess.

_Thr. _ Tell me then.

_Ha. _ When you were running away in a Fright, you fell down and hit it
against a Stone.

_Thr. _ Let me die if you han't hit the Nail on the Head.

_Ha. _ Go, get you Home, and tell your Wife of your Exploits.

_Thr. _ She'll read me a Juniper-Lecture for coming Home in such a
Pickle.

_Ha. _ But what Restitution will you make for what you have stolen?

_Thr. _ That's made already.

_Ha. _ To whom?

_Thr. _ Why, to Whores, Sutlers, and Gamesters.

_Ha. _ That's like a Soldier for all the World, it's but just that what's
got over the Devil's Back should be spent under his Belly.

_Ha. _ But I hope you have kept your Fingers all this While from
Sacrilege?

_Thr. _ There's nothing sacred in Hostility, there we neither spare
private Houses nor Churches.

_Ha. _ How will you make Satisfaction?

_Thr. _ They say there is no Satisfaction to be made for what is done in
War, for all Things are lawful there.

_Ha. _ You mean by the Law of Arms, I suppose?

_Thr. _ You are right.

_Ha. _ But that Law is the highest Injustice. It was not the Love of your
Country, but the Love of Booty that made you a Soldier.

_Thr. _ I confess so, and I believe very few go into the Army with any
better Design.

_Ha. _ It is indeed some Excuse to be mad with the greater Part of
Mankind.

_Thr. _ I have heard a Parson say in his Pulpit that War was lawful.

_Ha. _ Pulpits indeed are the Oracles of Truth. But War may be lawful for
a Prince, and yet not so for you.

_Thr. _ I have heard that every Man must live by his Trade.

_Ha. _ A very honourable Trade indeed to burn Houses, rob Churches,
ravish Nuns, plunder the Poor, and murder the Innocent!

_Thr. _ Butchers are hired to kill Beasts; and why is our Trade found
Fault with who are hired to kill Men?

_Ha. _ But was you never thoughtful what should become of your Soul if
you happen'd to be kill'd in the Battel?

_Thr. _ Not very much; I was very well satisfied in my Mind, having once
for all commended myself to St. _Barbara_.

_Ha. _ And did she take you under her Protection?

_Thr. _ I fancied so, for methought she gave me a little Nod.

_Ha. _ What Time was it? In the Morning?

_Thr. _ No, no, 'twas after Supper.

_Ha. _ And by that Time I suppose the Trees seem'd to walk too?

_Thr. _ How this Man guesses every Thing! But St. _Christopher_ was the
Saint I most depended on, whose Picture I had always in my Eye.

_Ha. _ What in your Tent?

_Thr. _ We had drawn him with Charcoal upon our Sail-cloth.

_Thr. _ Then to be sure that _Christopher_ the Collier was a sure Card to
trust to? But without jesting, I don't see how you can expect to be
forgiven all these Villanies, unless you go to _Rome_.

_Thr. _ Yes, I can, I know a shorter Way than that.

_Ha. _ What Way is that?

_Thr. _ I'll go to the _Dominicans_, and there I can do my Business with
the Commissaries for a Trifle.

_Ha. _ What, for Sacrilege?

_Thr. _ Ay, if I had robb'd Christ himself, and cut off his Head
afterwards, they have Pardons would reach it, and Commissions large
enough to compound for it.

_Ha. _ That is well indeed, if God should ratify your Composition.

_Thr. _ Nay, I am rather afraid the Devil should not ratify it; God is of
a forgiving Nature.

_Ha. _ What Priest will you get you?

_Thr. _ One that I know has but little Modesty or Honesty.

_Ha. _ Like to like. And when that's over, you'll go strait away to the
Communion, like a good Christian, will you not?

_Thr. _ Why should I not? For after I have once discharg'd the Jakes of
my Sins into his Cowl, and unburden'd myself of my Luggage, let him look
to it that absolv'd me.

_Ha. _ But how can you be sure that he does absolve you?

_Thr. _ I know that well enough.

_Ha. _ How do you know it?

_Thr. _ Because he lays his Hand upon my Head and mutters over something,
I don't know what.

_Ha. _ What if he should give you all your Sins again when he lays his
Hand upon your Head, and these should be the Words he mutters to
himself? _I absolve thee from all thy good Deeds, of which I find few or
none in thee; I restore thee to thy wonted Manners, and leave thee just
as I found thee_.

_Thr. _ Let him look to what he says, it is enough for me that I believe
I am absolv'd.

_Ha. _ But you run a great Hazard by that Belief, for perhaps that will
not be Satisfaction to God, to whom thou art indebted.

_Thr. _ Who a Mischief put you in my Way to disturb my Conscience, which
was very quiet before?

_Ha. _ Nay, I think it is a very happy Encounter to meet a Friend that
gives good Advice.

_Thr. _ I can't tell how good it is, but I am sure it is not very
pleasant.




_The COMMANDS OF A MASTER. _


The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy treats of the Commands of a Master, and
the Business of a Servant, 1. The Master calls up his
sleepy Servant, commands him to set the House to rights;
the Servant answers again, that he speaks not a Word
about Dinner, &c. 2. Of sending him on various Errands.
3. Concerning Riding_.


1. _Of calling up the Sleeper. _


RABANUS, SYRUS.

_RA. _ Soho, soho, Rascal, I am hoarse a bawling to you, and you lye
snoring still, you'll sleep for ever I think in my Conscience; either
get up presently or I'll rouze you with a good Cudgel. When will you
have slept out your Yesterday's Debauch? Are you not asham'd, you sleepy
Sot, to lye a-bed till this time of Day? Good Servants rise as soon as
it is Day, and take Care to get every Thing in order before their Master
rises. How loth this Drone is to leave his warm Nest! he is a whole Hour
a scratching, and stretching, and yawning.

_Sy. _ It is scarce Day yet.

_Ra. _ I believe not to you; it is Midnight yet to your Eyes.