_Ga._ I pray, that by their Suffrages they would recommend me to Christ, and procure that by his Assistance it may in Time come to pass that I be made one of their Company.
_Er._ Indeed what you ask for is no ordinary Thing: But what do you do then?
_Ga._ I go to School, and do what is to be done there with my utmost Endeavour; I so implore Christ's Assistance, as if my Study without it would signify nothing; and I study as if he offered no Help but to him that labours industriously; and I do my utmost not to deserve to be beaten, nor to offend my Master either in Word or Deed, nor any of my Companions.
_Er._ You are a good Boy to mind these Things.
_Ga._ When School is done I make haste Home, and if I can I take a Church in my Way, and in three Words, I salute Jesus again; and I pay my Respects to my Parents; and if I have any Time, I repeat, either by myself, or with one of my School-fellows, what was dictated in School.
_Er._ Indeed you are a very good Husband of Time.
_Ga._ No wonder I am of that, which is the most precious Thing in the World, and when past is irrecoverable.
_Er._ And _Hesiod_ teaches, that good Husbandry ought to be in the Middle, it is too soon in the Beginning, and too late in the End.
_Ga._ _Hesiod_ spoke right enough concerning Wine, but of Time no good Husbandry is unseasonable. If you let a Hogshead of Wine alone it won't empty itself; but Time is always a flying, sleeping or waking.
_Er._ I confess so, but what do you do after that?
_Ga._ When my Parents sit down to Dinner I say Grace, and then wait at Table till I am bid to take my own Dinner; and having returned Thanks, if I have any Time left I divert myself with my Companions with some lawful Recreation till the Time comes to go to School again.
_Er._ Do you salute Jesus again?
_Ga._ Yes, if I have an Opportunity; but if it so happen that I have not an Opportunity, or it be not seasonable, as I pass by the Church I salute him mentally; and then I do what is to be done at School with all my Might; and when I go Home again I do what I did before Dinner: After Supper I divert myself with some pleasant Stories; and afterwards bidding my Parents and the Family good Night, I go to Bed betimes, and there kneeling down by the Bedside, as I have said, I say over those Things I have been learning that Day at School; if I have committed any great Fault, I implore Christ's Clemency, that he would pardon me, and I promise Amendment: and if I have committed no Fault, I thank him for his Goodness in preserving me from all Vice, and then I recommend myself to him with all my Soul, that he would preserve me from the Attempts of my evil Genius and filthy Dreams. When this is done, and I am got into Bed, I cross my Forehead and Breast, and compose myself to Rest.
_Er._ In what Posture do you compose yourself?
_Ga._ I don't lye upon my Face or my Back, but first leaning upon my Right-Side, I fold my Arms a-cross, so that they may defend my Breast, as it were with the Figure of a Cross, with my Right-hand upon my Left Shoulder, and my Left upon my Right, and so I sleep sweetly, either till I awake of myself, or am called up.
_Er._ You are a little Saint that can do thus.
_Ga._ You are a little Fool for saying so.
_Er._ I praise your Method, and I would I could practise it.
_Ga._ Give your Mind to it and you will do it, for when once you have accustom'd yourself to it for a few Months, these Things will be pleasant, and become natural.
_Er._ But I want to hear concerning divine Service.
_Ga._ I don't neglect that, especially upon holy Days.
_Er._ How do you manage yourself on holy Days?
_Ga._ In the first place I examine myself if my Mind be Polluted by any Stain of Sin.
_Er._ And if you find it is, what do you do then? Do you refrain from the Altar?
_Ga._ Not by my bodily Presence, but I withdraw myself, as to my Mind, and standing as it were afar off, as tho' not daring to lift up my Eyes to God the Father, whom I have offended, I strike upon my Breast, crying out with the Publican in the Gospel, _Lord, be merciful to me a Sinner_.
And then if I know I have offended any Man, I take Care to make him Satisfaction if I can presently; but if I cannot do that, I resolve in my Mind to reconcile my Neighbour as soon as possible. If any Body has offended me, I forbear Revenge, and endeavour to bring it about, that he that has offended me may be made sensible of his Fault, and be sorry for it; but if there be no Hope of that, I leave all Vengeance to God.
_Ga._ Is it hard to forgive a small Offence to your Brother, whose mutual Forgiveness thou wilt stand in frequent need of, when Christ has at once forgiven us all our Offences, and is every Day forgiving us?
Nay, this seems to me not to be Liberality to our Neighbour, but putting to Interest to God; just as tho' one Fellow-Servant should agree with another to forgive him three Groats, that his Lord might forgive him ten Talents.
_Er._ You indeed argue very rationally, if what you say be true.
_Ga._ Can you desire any Thing truer than the Gospel?
_Er._ That is unreasonable; but there are some who can't believe themselves to be Christians unless they hear Mass (as they call it) every Day.
_Ga._ Indeed I don't condemn the Practise in those that have Time enough, and spend whole Days in profane Exercises; but I only disapprove of those who superstitiously fancy that that Day must needs be unfortunate to them that they have not begun with the Mass; and presently after divine Service is over they go either to Trading, Gaming, or the Court, where whatsoever succeeds, though done justly or unjustly, they attribute to the Mass.
_Er._ Are there any Persons that are so absurd?
_Ga._ The greatest part of Mankind.
_Er._ But return to divine Service.
_Ga._ If I can, I get to stand so close by the Holy Altar, that I can hear what the Priest reads, especially the Epistle and the Gospel; from these I endeavour to pick something, which I fix in my Mind, and this I ruminate upon for some Time.
_Er._ Don't you pray at all in the mean Time?
_Ga._ I do pray, but rather mentally than vocally. From the Things the Priest reads I take occasion of Prayer.
_Er._ Explain that a little more, I don't well take in what you mean.
_Ga._ I'll tell you; suppose this Epistle was read, _Purge out the old Leaven, that ye may be a new Lump, as ye are unleavened_. On occasion of these Words I thus address myself to Christ, "I wish I were the unleavened Bread, pure from all Leaven of Malice; but do thou, O Lord Jesus, who alone art pure, and free from all Malice, grant that I may every Day more and more purge out the old Leaven." Again, if the Gospel chance to be read concerning the Sower sowing his Seed, I thus pray with my self, "Happy is he that deserves to be that good Ground, and I pray that of barren Ground, he of his great Goodness would make me good Ground, without whose Blessing nothing at all is good." These for Example Sake, for it would be tedious to mention every Thing. But if I happen to meet with a dumb Priest, (such as there are many in _Germany_) or that I can't get near the Altar, I commonly get a little Book that has the Gospel of that Day and Epistle, and this I either say out aloud, or run it over with my Eye.
_Er._ I understand; but with what Contemplations chiefly dost thou pass away the Time?
_Ga._ I give Thanks to Jesus Christ for his unspeakable Love, in condescending to redeem Mankind by his Death; I pray that he would not suffer his most holy Blood to be shed in vain for me, but that with his Body he would always feed my Soul, and that with his Blood he would quicken my Spirit, that growing by little and little in the Increase of Graces, I may be made a fit Member of his mystical Body, which is the Church; nor may ever fall from that holy Covenant that he made with his elect Disciples at the last Supper, when he distributed the Bread, and gave the Cup; and through these, with all who are engraffed into his Society by Baptism. And if I find my Thoughts to wander, I read some Psalms, or some pious Matter, that may keep my Mind from wandring.
_Er._ Have you any particular Psalms for this Purpose?
_Ga._ I have; but I have not so tyed myself up to them, but that I can omit them, if any Meditation comes into my Mind that is more refreshing, than the Recitation of those Psalms.
_Er._ What do you do as to Fasting?
_Ga._ I have nothing to do with Fasting, for so _Jerome_ has taught me; that Health is not to be impair'd by fasting, until the Body is arrived at its full Strength. I am not quite 17 Years old; but yet if I find Occasion, I dine and sup sparingly, that I may be more lively for Spiritual Exercises on holy Days.
_Er._ Since I have begun, I will go through with my Enquiries. How do you find yourself affected towards Sermons?
_Ga._ Very well, I go to them as devoutly as if I was a going to a holy Assembly; and yet I pick and chuse whom to hear, for there are some, one had better not hear than hear; and if such an one happens to preach, or if it happen that no Body preaches, I pass this Time in reading the Scriptures, I read the Gospel or Epistle with _Chrysostom's_ or _Jerome's_ Interpretation, or any other pious and learned Interpreter that I meet with.
_Er._ But Word of Mouth is more affecting.
_Ga._ I confess it is. I had rather hear if I can but meet with a tolerable Preacher; but I don't seem to be wholly destitute of a Sermon if I hear _Chrysostom_ or _Jerome_ speaking by their Writings.
_Er._ I am of your Mind; but how do you stand affected as to Confession?
_Ga._ Very well; for I confess daily.
_Er._ Every Day?
_Ga._ Yes.
_Er._ Then you ought to keep a Priest to yourself.
_Ga._ But I confess to him who only truly remits Sins, to whom all the Power is given.
_Er._ To whom?
_Ga._ To Christ.
_Er._ And do you think that's sufficient?
_Ga._ It would be enough for me, if it were enough for the Rulers of the Church, and receiv'd Custom.
_Er._ Who do you call the Rulers of the Church?
_Ga._ The Popes, Bishops and Apostles.
_Er._ And do you put Christ into this Number?
_Ga._ He is without Controversy the chief Head of e'm all.
_Er._ And was he the Author of this Confession in use?
_Ga._ He is indeed the Author of all good; but whether he appointed Confession as it is now us'd in the Church, I leave to be disputed by Divines. The Authority of my Betters is enough for me that am but a Lad and a private Person. This is certainly the principal Confession; nor is it an easy Matter to confess to Christ; no Body confesses to him, but he that is angry with his Sin. If I have committed any great Offence, I lay it open, and bewail it to him, and implore his Mercy; I cry out, weep and lament, nor do I give over before I feel the Love of Sin throughly purged from the Bottom of my Heart, and some Tranquility and Chearfulness of Mind follow upon it, which is an Argument of the Sin being pardoned. And when the Time requires to go to the holy Communion of the Body and Blood of Christ; then I make Confession to a Priest too, but in few Words, and nothing but what I am well satisfy'd are Faults, or such that carry in them a very great Suspicion that they are such; neither do I always take it to be a capital or enormous Crime, every Thing that is done contrary to human Constitutions, unless a wicked Contemptuousness shall go along with it: Nay, I scarce believe any Crime to be Capital, that has not Malice join'd with it, that is, a perverse Will.
_Er._ I commend you, that you are so religious, and yet not superstitious: Here I think the old Proverb takes place: _Nec omnia, nec passim, nec quibuslibet_, That a Person should neither speak all, nor every where, nor to all Persons.
_Ga._ I chuse me a Priest, that I can trust with the Secrets of my Heart.
_Er._ That's wisely done: For there are a great many, as is found by Experience, do blab out what in Confessions is discovered to them. And there are some vile impudent Fellows that enquire of the Person confessing, those Things, that it were better if they were conceal'd; and there are some unlearned and foolish Fellows, who for the Sake of filthy Gain, lend their Ear, but apply not their Mind, who can't distinguish between a Fault and a good Deed, nor can neither teach, comfort nor advise. These Things I have heard from many, and in Part have experienced my self.
_Ga._ And I too much; therefore I chuse me one that is learn'd, grave, of approv'd Integrity, and one that keeps his Tongue within his Teeth.
_Er._ Truly you are happy that can make a Judgment of Things so early.
_Ga._ But above all, I take Care of doing any Thing that I can't safely trust a Priest with.
_Er._ That's the best Thing in the World, if you can but do so.
_Ga._ Indeed it is hard to us of ourselves, but by the Help of Christ it is easy; the greatest Matter is, that there be a Will to it. I often renew my Resolution, especially upon Sundays: And besides that, I endeavour as much as I can to keep out of evil Company, and associate myself with good Company, by whose Conversation I may be better'd.
_Er._ Indeed you manage yourself rightly: For _evil Conversations corrupt good Manners_.
_Ga._ I shun Idleness as the Plague.
_Er._ You are very right, for Idleness is the Root of all Evil; but as the World goes now, he must live by himself that would keep out of bad Company.
_Ga._ What you say is very true, for as the _Greek_ wise Men said the bad are the greatest Number. But I chuse the best out of a few, and sometimes a good Companion makes his Companion better. I avoid those Diversions that incite to Naughtiness, and use those that are innocent.
I behave myself courteous to all; but familiarly with none but those that are good. If I happen at any Time to fall into bad Company, I either correct them by a soft Admonition, or wink at and bear with them, if I can do them no good; but I be sure to get out of their Company as soon as I can.
_Er._ Had you never an itching Mind to become a Monk?
_Ga._ Never; but I have been often solicited to it by some, that call you into a Monastery, as into a Port from a Shipwreck.
_Er._ Say you so? Were they in Hopes of a Prey?
_Ga._ They set upon both me and my Parents with a great many crafty Persuasions; but I have taken a Resolution not to give my Mind either to Matrimony or Priesthood, nor to be a Monk, nor to any Kind of Life out of which I can't extricate myself, before I know myself very well.
_Er._ When will that be?
_Ga._ Perhaps never. But before the 28th Year of ones Age, nothing should be resolved on.
_Er._ Why so?
_Ga._ Because I hear every where, so many Priests, Monks and married Men lamenting that they hurried themselves rashly into Servitude.
_Er._ You are very cautious not to be catch'd.
_Ga._ In the mean Time I take a special Care of three Things.
_Er._ What are they?
_Ga._ First of all to make a good Progress in Morality, and if I can't do that, I am resolv'd to maintain an unspotted Innocence and good Name; and last of all I furnish myself with Languages and Sciences that will be of Use in any Kind of Life.
_Er._ But do you neglect the Poets?
_Ga._ Not wholly, but I read generally the chastest of them, and if I meet with any Thing that is not modest, I pass that by, as _Ulysses_ passed by the _Sirens_, stopping his Ears.
_Er._ To what Kind of Study do you chiefly addict your self? To Physic, the Common or Civil Law, or to Divinity? For Languages, the Sciences and Philosophy are all conducive to any Profession whatsoever.
_Ga._ I have not yet thoroughly betaken myself to any one particularly, but I take a Taste of all, that I be not wholly ignorant of any; and the rather, that having tasted of all I may the better chuse that I am fittest for. Medicine is a certain Portion in whatsoever Land a Man is; the Law is the Way to Preferment: But I like Divinity the best, saving that the Manners of some of the Professors of it, and the bitter Contentions that are among them, displease me.
_Er._ He won't be very apt to fall that goes so warily along. Many in these Days are frighted from Divinity, because they are afraid they should not be found in the Catholick Faith, because they see no Principle of Religion, but what is called in Question.
_Ga._ I believe firmly what I read in the holy Scriptures, and the Creed, called the Apostles, and I don't trouble my Head any farther: I leave the rest to be disputed and defined by the Clergy, if they please; and if any Thing is in common Use with Christians that is not repugnant to the holy Scriptures, I observe it for this Reason, that I may not offend other People.
_Er._ What _Thales_ taught you that Philosophy?
_Ga._ When I was a Boy and very young, I happen'd to live in the House with that honestest of Men, _John Colet_, do you know him?
_Er._ Know him, ay, as well as I do you.
_Ga._ He instructed me when I was young in these Precepts.
_Er._ You won't envy me, I hope, if I endeavour to imitate you?
_Ga._ Nay, by that Means you will be much dearer to me. For you know, Familiarity and good Will, are closer ty'd by Similitude of Manners.
_Er._ True, but not among Candidates for the same Office, when they are both sick of the same Disease.
_Ga._ No, nor between two Sweet-hearts of the same Mistress, when they are both sick of the same Love.
_Er._ But without jesting, I'll try to imitate that Course of Life.
_Ga._ I wish you as good Success as may be.
_Er._ It may be I shall overtake thee.
_Ga._ I wish you might get before me; but in the mean Time I won't stay for you; but I will every Day endeavour to out-go myself, and do you endeavour to out-go me if you can.
_The ART OF HUNTING._ The ARGUMENT.
_This Colloquy presents you with the Art of Hunting; Fishing, of bringing Earth-Worms out of the Ground, of sticking Frogs._ PAUL, THOMAS, VINCENT, LAWRENCE, BARTHOLUS.
_Pa. Every one to his Mind._ I love Hunting.
_Th._ And so do I too, but where are the Dogs? The hunting Poles? And the hunting Nets?
_Pa._ Farewell Boars, Bears, Bucks, and Foxes, we'll lay Snares for Rabbets.
_Vi._ But I'll set Gins for Locusts and Crickets.
_La._ But I'll catch Frogs.
_Ba._ I'll hunt Butterflies.
_La._ 'Tis difficult to follow flying Creatures.
_Ba._ It is difficult, but 'tis fine Sport; unless you think it finer Sport to hunt after Earth-Worms, Snails or Cockles, because they have no Wings.
_La._ Indeed I had rather go a Fishing; I have a neat Hook.
_Ba._ But where will you get Baits?
_La._ There are Earth-Worms enough every where to be had.
_Ba._ So there is, if they would but creep out of the Ground to you.
_La._ But I'll make a great many thousand jump out presently.
_Ba._ How? By Witch-Craft?
_La._ You shall see the Art. Fill this Bucket with Water, break these green Peels of Walnuts to Pieces and put into it: Wet the Ground with the Water. Now mind a little, do you see them coming out?
_Ba._ I see a Miracle. I believe the armed Men started out of the Earth after this Manner from the Serpents Teeth that were sown: But a great many Fish are of too fine and delicate a Palate to be catch'd by such a vulgar Bait.
_La._ I know a certain Sort of an Insect that I us'd to catch such with.
_Ba._ See if you can impose upon the Fishes so, I'll make work with the Frogs.
_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.
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._ 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.
_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.
_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.
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.
* * * * * _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_.
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 * * * * * _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.
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. It is in vain to ask one that is not at his own Disposal: And there would be no need to ask me if I could come: But at present, though I had never so much Mind, I can't; and it would be altogether unnecessary to ask one that is willing.
_Pe._ Then pray let me have your Company the next Day after: However, I must needs have your Company at Supper the next Day after to Morrow. You must not deny me your Company four Days hence. You must make no Excuse as to coming next Thursday.
_I can't promise._ certainly promise you. I will come when it shall be most convenient for us both.
_You ought to set the Day._ _Pe._ I would have you appoint a Day when you will come to sup with me.
You must assign a Day. You must set the Day. I desire a certain Day may be prefix'd, prescrib'd, appointed, set; but set a certain Day. I would have you tell me the Day.
_I would not have you know before Hand._ _Ch._ Indeed I don't use to set a Day for my Friends. I am used to set a Day for those I'm at Law with. I would not have you know before Hand.
I'll take you at unawares. I'll come unexpectedly. I will catch you when