No More Learning

I respect you, and thank
you, that you made my Affair your Care. You have oblig'd me very much by
that Kindness of yours. It is a great Obligation upon me that you have
manag'd my Concern with Fidelity. Of all your Kindnesses, which are
indeed a great many, you have shew'd me none has oblig'd me more than
this. I cannot possibly make you a Return according to your Merit Too
much Ceremony between you and I is unnecessary, but that which is in my
Power I'll do. I'll be thankful as long as I live. I confess myself
highly oblig'd to you for your good Service. For this Kindness I owe you
more than I am able to pay. By this good Office you have attach'd me to
you so firmly, that I can never be able to disengage myself. You have
laid me under so many and great Obligations, that I shall never be able
to get out of your Debt. No Slave was ever so engag'd in Duty to his
Master as you have engag'd me by this Office. You have by this good Turn
brought me more into your Debt than ever I shall be able to pay. I am
oblig'd to you upon many Accounts, but upon none more than upon this.
Thanks are due for common Kindness, but this is beyond the Power of
Thanks to retaliate.

* * * * *

_The Answer. _

_Sa. _ Forbear these Compliments, the Friendship between you and I is
greater than that we should thank one another for any Service done. I
have not bestow'd this Kindness upon you, but only made a Return of it
to you. I think the Amends is sufficiently made, if my most sedulous
Endeavours are acceptable to you. There is no Reason you should thank me
for repaying this small Kindness, for those uncommon Kindnesses I have
so often receiv'd from you. Indeed I merit no Praise, but should have
been the most ungrateful Man in the World if I had been wanting to my
Friend. Whatsoever I have, and whatsoever I can do, you may call as
much your own as any Thing that you have the best Title to. I look upon
it as a Favour that you take my Service kindly. You pay so great an
Acknowledgment to me for so small a Kindness, as tho' I did not owe you
much greater. He serves himself that serves his Friend. He that serves a
Friend does not give away his Service, but puts it out to Interest. If
you approve of my Service, pray make frequent Use of it; then I shall
think my Service is acceptable, if as often as you have Occasion for it
you would not request but command it.




_OF RASH VOWS. _


The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy treats chiefly of three Things, 1. Of the
superstitious Pilgrimages of some Persons to_ Jerusalem,
_and other holy Places, under Pretence of Devotion. 2.
That Vows are not to be made rashly over a Pot of Ale:
but that Time, Expence and Pains ought to be employ d
otherwise, in such Matters as have a real Tendency to
promote trite Piety. 3. Of the Insignificancy and
Absurdity of Popish Indulgencies_.


ARNOLDUS, CORNELIUS.

_ARNOLDUS. _ O! _Cornelius_, well met heartily, you have been lost this
hundred Years.

_Co. _ What my old Companion _Arnoldus_, the Man I long'd to see most of
any Man in the World! God save you.

_Ar. _ We all gave thee over for lost. But prithee where hast been
rambling all this While?

_Co. _ In t'other World.

_Ar. _ Why truly a Body would think so by thy slovenly Dress, lean
Carcase, and ghastly Phyz.

_Co. _ Well, but I am just come from _Jerusalem_, not from the _Stygian_
Shades.

_Ar. _ What Wind blew thee thither?

_Co. _ What Wind blows a great many other Folks thither?

_Ar. _ Why Folly, or else I am mistaken.

_Co. _ However, I am not the only Fool in the World.

_Ar. _ What did you hunt after there?

_Co. _ Why Misery.

_Ar. _ You might have found that nearer Home. But did you meet with any
Thing worth seeing there?

_Co. _ Why truly, to speak ingenuously, little or nothing. They shew us
some certain Monuments of Antiquity, which I look upon to be most of 'em
Counterfeits, and meer Contrivances to bubble the Simple and Credulous.
I don't think they know precisely the Place that _Jerusalem_ anciently
stood in.

_Ar. _ What did you see then?

_Co. _ A great deal of Barbarity every where.

_Ar. _ But I hope you are come back more holy than you went.

_Co. _ No indeed, rather ten Times worse.

_Ar. _ Well, but then you are richer?

_Co. _ Nay, rather poorer than _Job_.

_Ar. _ But don't you repent you have taken so long a Journey to so little
Purpose?

_Co. _ No, nor I am not asham'd neither, I have so many Companions of my
Folly to keep me in Countenance; and as for Repentance, it's too late
now.

_Ar. _ What! do you get no Good then by so dangerous a Voyage?

_Co. _ Yes, a great Deal.

_Ar. _ What is it?

_Co. _ Why, I shall live more pleasantly for it for Time to come.

_Ar. _ What, because you'll have the Pleasure of telling old Stories when
the Danger is over?

_Co. _ That is something indeed, but that is not all.

_Ar. _ Is there any other Advantage in it besides that?

_Co. _ Yes, there is.

_Ar. _ What is it? Pray tell me.

_Co. _ Why, I can divert myself and Company, as oft as I have a Mind to
it, in romancing upon my Adventures over a Pot of Ale, or a good Dinner.

_Ar. _ Why, truly that is something, as you say.

_Co. _ And besides, I shall take as much Pleasure myself when I hear
others romancing about Things they never heard nor saw; nay, and that
they do with that Assurance, that when they are telling the most
ridiculous and impossible Things in Nature, they persuade themselves
they are speaking Truth all the While.

_Ar. _ This is a wonderful Pleasure. Well then, you have not lost all
your Cost and Labour, as the Saying is.

_Co. _ Nay, I think this is something better still than what they do,
who, for the sake of little Advance-money, list themselves for Soldiers
in the Army, which is the Nursery of all Impiety.

_Ar. _ But it is an ungentleman-like Thing to take Delight in telling
Lies.

_Co. _ But it is a little more like a Gentleman than either to delight
others, or be delighted in slandering other Persons, or lavishing away a
Man's Time or Substance in Gaming.

_Ar. _ Indeed I must be of your Mind in that.

_Co. _ But then there is another Advantage.

_Ar. _ What is that?

_Co. _ If there shall be any Friend that I love very well, who shall
happen to be tainted with this Phrensy, I will advise him to stay at
Home; as your Mariners that have been cast away, advise them that are
going to Sea, to steer clear of the Place where they miscarried.

_Ar. _ I wish you had been my Moniter in Time.

_Co. _ What Man! Have you been infected with this Disease too?

_Ar. _ Yes, I have been at _Rome_ and _Compostella_.

_Co. _ Good God! how I am pleas'd that you have been as great a Fool as
I! What _Pallas_ put that into your Head?

_Ar. _ No _Pallas_, but _Moria_ rather, especially when I left at Home a
handsome young Wife, several Children, and a Family, who had nothing in
the World to depend upon for a Maintenance but my daily Labour.

_Co. _ Sure it must be some important Reason that drew you away from all
these engaging Relations. Prithee tell me what it was.

_Ar. _ I am asham'd to tell it.

_Co. _ You need not be asham'd to tell me, who, you know, have been sick
of the same Distemper.

_Ar. _ There was a Knot of Neighbours of us drinking together, and when
the Wine began to work in our Noddles, one said he had a Mind to make a
Visit to St. _James_, and another to St. _Peter_; presently there was
one or two that promis'd to go with them, till at last it was concluded
upon to go all together; and I, that I might not seem a disagreeable
Companion, rather than break good Company, promised to go too. The next
Question was, whether we should go to _Rome_ or _Compostella_? Upon the
Debate it was determin'd that we should all, God willing, set out the
next Day for both Places.

_Co. _ A grave Decree, fitter to be writ in Wine than engrav'd in Brass.

_Ar. _ Presently a Bumper was put about to our good Journey, which when
every Man had taken off in his Turn, the Vote passed into an Act, and
became inviolable.

_Co. _ A new Religion! But did you all come safe back?

_Ar. _ All but three, one dy'd by the Way, and gave us in Charge to give
his humble Service to _Peter_ and _James_; another dy'd at _Rome_, who
bad us remember him to his Wife and Children; and the third we left at
_Florence_ dangerously ill, and I believe he is in Heaven before now.

_Co. _ Was he so good a Man then?

_Ar. _ The veriest Droll in Nature.

_Co. _ Why do you think he is in Heaven then?

_Ar. _ Because he had a whole Satchel full of large Indulgencies.

_Co. _ I understand you, but it is a long Way to Heaven, and a very
dangerous one too, as I am told, by reason of the little Thieves that
infest the middle Region of the Air.

_Ar. _ That's true, but he was well fortify'd with Bulls.

_Co. _ What Language were they written in?

_Ar. _ In _Latin_.

_Co. _ And will they secure him?

_Ar. _ Yes, unless he should happen upon some Spirit that does not
understand _Latin_, in that Case he must go back to _Rome_, and get a
new Passport.

_Co. _ Do they sell Bulls there to dead Men too?

_Ar. _ Yes.

_Co. _ But by the Way, let me advise you to have a Care what you say, for
now there are a great many Spies abroad.

_Ar. _ I don't speak slightingly of Indulgencies themselves, but I laugh
at the Folly of my fuddling Companion, who tho' he was the greatest
Trifler that ever was born, yet chose rather to venture the whole Stress
of his Salvation upon a Skin of Parchment than upon the Amendment of his
Life. But when shall we have that merry Bout you spoke of just now?

_Co. _ When Opportunity offers we'll set a Time for a small Collation,
and invite some of our Comrades, there we will tell Lies, who can lye
fastest, and divert one another with Lies till we have our Bellies full.

_Ar. _ Come on, a Match.




_OF BENEFICE-HUNTERS. _


The ARGUMENT.

_In this Colloquy those Persons are reprehended that run
to and again to_ Rome _hunting after Benefices, and that
oftentimes with the Hazard of the Corruption of their
Morals, and the Loss of their Money.
The Clergy are
admonished to divert themselves with reading of good
Books, rather than with a Concubine. Jocular Discourse
concerning a long Nose_.


PAMPHAGUS, COCLES.

_PAM. _ Either my Sight fails me, or this is my old Pot-Companion
_Cocles_.

_Co. _ No, no, your Eyes don't deceive you at all, you see a Companion
that is yours heartily. Nobody ever thought to have seen you again, you
have been gone so many Years, and no Body knew what was become of you.
But whence come you from? Prithee tell me.

_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.