Part 3

_Erasmus_ laught and sayd, "I woulde not have you the Slave of anie King; howbeit, you mighte assist him and be useful to him."

"The Change of the Word," sayth _Father_, "does not alter the Matter; I should _be_ a Slave, as completely as if I had a Collar rounde my Neck."

"But would not increased Usefulnesse," says _Erasmus_, "make you happier?"

"Happier?" says _Father_, somewhat heating; "how can that be compassed in a Way so abhorrent to my Genius? At present, I live as I will, to which very few Courtiers can pretend. Half-a-dozen blue-coated Serving-Men answer my Turn in the House, Garden, Field, and on the River: I have a few strong Horses for Work, none for Show, plenty of plain Food for a healthy Family, and enough, with a hearty Welcome, for a score of Guests that are not dainty. The lengthe of my Wife's Train infringeth not the Statute; and, for myself, I soe hate Bravery, that my Motto is, 'Of those whom you see in Scarlet, not one is happy.' I have a regular Profession, which supports my House, and enables me to promote Peace and Justice; I have Leisure to chat with my Wife, and sport with my Children; I have Hours for Devotion, and Hours for Philosophie and the liberall Arts, which are absolutelie medicinall to me, as Antidotes to the sharpe but contracted Habitts of Mind engendered by the Law. If there be aniething in a Court Life which can compensate for the Losse of anie of these Blessings, deare _Desiderius_, pray tell me what it is, for I confesse I know not."

"You are a comicall Genius," says _Erasmus_.

"As for you," retorted _Father_, "you are at your olde Trick of arguing on the wrong Side, as you did the firste Time we mett. Nay, don't we know you can declaime backward and forwarde on the same Argument, as you did on the _Venetian_ War?"

_Erasmus_ smiled quietlie, and sayd, "What coulde I do? The _Pope_ changed his holy Mind." Whereat _Father_ smiled too.

"What Nonsense you learned Men sometimes talk!" pursues _Father_. "I--wanted at Court, quotha! Fancy a dozen starving Men with one roasted Pig betweene them;--do you think they would be really glad to see a Thirteenth come up, with an eye to a small Piece of the Crackling? No; believe me, there is none that Courtiers are more sincerelie respectfull to than the Man who avows he hath no Intention of attempting to go Shares; and e'en him they care mighty little about, for they love none with true Tendernesse save themselves."

"We shall see you at Court yet," says _Erasmus_.

Sayth _Father_, "Then I will tell you in what Guise. With a Fool's Cap and Bells. Pish! I won't aggravate you, Churchman as you are, by alluding to the Blessings I have which you have not; and I trow there is as much Danger in taking you for serious when you are onlie playful and ironicall as if you were _Plato_ himself."

Sayth _Erasmus_, after some Minutes' Silence, "I know full well that you holde _Plato_, in manie Instances, to be sporting when I accept him in very Deed and Truth. _Speculating_ he often was; as a brighte, pure Flame must needs be struggling up, and, if it findeth no direct Vent, come forthe of the Oven's Mouth. He was like a Man shut into a Vault, running hither and thither, with his poor, flickering Taper, agonizing to get forthe, and holding himself in readinesse to make a Spring forward the Moment a Door should open. But it never did. 'Not manie Wise are called.' He had clomb a Hill in the Darke, and stoode calling to his Companions below, 'Come on, come on! this Way lies the East; I am avised we shall see the Sun rise anon.' But they never did. What a Christian he woulde have made! Ah! he is one now. He and _Socrates_--the Veil long removed from their Eyes--are sitting at _Jesus'_ Feet. _Sancte Socrates, ora pro nobis!_"

_Bessie_ and I exchanged Glances at this so strange Ejaculation; but the Subjeckt was of such Interest, that we listened with deep Attention to what followed.

Sayth _Father_, "Whether _Socrates_ were what _Plato_ painted him in his Dialogues, is with me a great Matter of Doubte; but it is not of Moment. When so many Contemporaries coulde distinguishe the fancifulle from the fictitious, _Plato's_ Object could never have beene to _deceive_. There is something higher in Art than gross Imitation. He who attempteth it is always the leaste successfull; and his Failure hath the Odium of a discovered Lie; whereas, to give an avowedlie fabulous Narrative a Consistence within itselfe which permitts the Reader to be, for the Time, voluntarilie deceived, is as artfulle as it is allowable. Were I to construct a Tale, I woulde, as you sayd to _Cecy_, lie with a Circumstance, but shoulde consider it noe Compliment to have my Unicorns and Hippogriffs taken for live Animals. _Amicus Plato, amicus Socrates, magis tamen amica Veritas._ Now, _Plato_ had a much higher Aim than to give a very Pattern of _Socrates_ his snub Nose. He wanted a Peg to hang his Thoughts upon----"

"A Peg? A Statue by _Phidias_," interrupts _Erasmus_.

"A Statue by _Phidias_, to clothe in the most beautiful Drapery," sayth _Father_; "no Matter that the Drapery was his own, he wanted to show it to the best Advantage, and to the Honour rather than Prejudice of the Statue. And, having clothed the same, he got a Spark of _Prometheus_ his Fire, and made the aforesayd Statue walk and talk, to the Glory of Gods and Men, and sate himself quietlie down in a Corner. By the Way, _Desiderius_, why shouldst thou not submitt thy Subtletie to the Rules of a Colloquy? Set _Eckius_ and _Martin Luther_ by the Ears! Ha! Man, what Sport! Heavens! if I were to compound a Tale or a Dialogue, what Crotchets and Quips of mine own woulde I not putt into my Puppets' Mouths! and then have out my Laugh behind my Vizard, as when we used to act Burlesques before _Cardinall Morton_. What rare Sporte we had, one Christmas, with a Mummery we called the 'Triall of Feasting'! _Dinner_ and _Supper_ were broughte up before my _Lord Chief Justice_, charged with Murder. Theire Accomplices were _Plum-pudding_, _Mince-pye_, _Surfeit_, _Drunkenness_, and suchlike. Being condemned to hang by the Neck, I, who was _Supper_, stuft out with I cannot tell you how manie Pillows, began to call lustilie for a Confessor, and, on his stepping forthe, commenct a List of all the Fitts, Convulsions, Spasms, Payns in the Head, and so forthe, I had inflicted on this one and t'other. 'Alas! good Father,' says I, '_King John_ layd his Death at my Door;--indeede, there's scarce a royall or noble House that hath not a Charge agaynst me; and I'm sorelie afrayd' (giving a Poke at a fat Priest that sate at my _Lord Cardinall's_ Elbow) 'I shall have the Death of _that_ holy Man to answer for.'"

_Erasmus_ laughed, and sayd, "Did I ever tell you of the retort of _Willibald Pirkheimer_? A Monk, hearing him praise me somewhat lavishly to another, could not avoid expressing by his Looks great Disgust and Dissatisfaction; and, on being askt whence they arose, confest he could not, with Patience, heare the Commendation of a Man soe notoriously fond of eating Fowls. 'Does he steal them?' says _Pirkheimer_. 'Surely no,' says the Monk. 'Why, then,' quoth _Willibald_, 'I know of a Fox who is ten times the greater Rogue; for, look you, he helps himself to many a fat Hen from my Roost without ever offering to pay me. But tell me now, dear Father, is it then a Sin to eat Fowls?' 'Most assuredlie it is,' says the Monk, 'if you indulge in them to Gluttony.' 'Ah! if, if!' quoth _Pirkheimer_. 'If stands stiff, as the _Lacedemonians_ told _Philip_ of _Macedon_; and 'tis not by eating Bread alone, my dear Father, you have acquired that huge Paunch of yours. I fancy, if all the fat Fowls that have gone into it could raise their Voices and cackle at once, they woulde make Noise enow to drown the Drums and Trumpets of an army.' Well may _Luther_ say," continued _Erasmus_, laughing, "that theire fasting is easier to them than our eating to us; seeing that every Man Jack of them hath to his Evening Meal two Quarts of Beer, a Quart of Wine, and as manie as he can eat of Spice Cakes, the better to relish his Drink. While I ... 'tis true my Stomach is Lutheran, but my Heart is Catholic; that's as Heaven made me, and I'll be judged by you alle, whether I am not as thin as a Weasel."

'Twas now growing dusk, and _Cecy's_ tame Hares were just beginning to be on the alert, skipping across our Path, as we returned towards the House, jumping over one another, and raysing 'emselves on theire hind Legs to solicitt our Notice. _Erasmus_ was amused at theire Gambols, and at our making them beg for Vine-tendrils; and _Father_ told him there was hardlie a Member of the Householde who had not a dumb Pet of some Sort. "I encourage the Taste in them," he sayd, "not onlie because it fosters Humanitie and affords harmlesse Recreation, but because it promotes Habitts of Forethoughte and Regularitie. No Child or Servant of mine hath Liberty to adopt a Pet which he is too lazy or nice to attend to himself. A little Management may enable even a young Gentlewoman to do this, without soyling her Hands; and to negleckt giving them proper Food at proper Times entayls a Disgrace of which everie one of 'em would be ashamed. But, hark! there is the Vesper-bell."

As we passed under a Pear-tree, _Erasmus_ told us, with much Drollerie, of a Piece of boyish Mischief of his,--the Theft of some Pears off a particular Tree, the Fruit of which the Superior of his Convent had meant to reserve to himself. One Morning, _Erasmus_ had climbed the Tree, and was feasting to his great Content, when he was aware of the Superior approaching to catch him in the Fact; soe, quickly slid down to the Ground, and made off in the opposite Direction, limping as he went. The Malice of this Act consisted in its being the Counterfeit of the Gait of a poor lame Lay Brother, who was, in fact, smartlie punisht for _Erasmus_ his Misdeede. Our Friend mentioned this with a Kinde of Remorse, and observed to my _Father_,--"Men laugh at the Sins of young People and little Children, as if they were little Sins; albeit, the Robbery of an Apple or Cherry-orchard is as much a breaking of the Eighth Commandment as the stealing of a Leg of Mutton from a Butcher's Stall, and ofttimes with far less Excuse. Our Church tells us, indeede, of Venial Sins, such as the Theft of an Apple or a Pin; but, I think," (looking hard at _Cecilie_ and _Jack_,) "even the youngest among us could tell how much Sin and Sorrow was brought into the World by stealing an Apple."

At Bedtime, _Bess_ and I did agree in wishing that alle learned Men were as apt to unite Pleasure with Profit in theire Talk as _Erasmus_. There be some that can write after the Fashion of Paul, and others preach like unto Apollos; but this, methinketh, is scattering Seed by the Wayside, like the Great Sower.

_Tuesday._

'Tis singular, the Love that _Jack_ and _Cecy_ have for one another; it resembleth that of Twins. _Jack_ is not forward at his Booke; on the other Hand, he hath a Resolution of Character which _Cecy_ altogether wants. Last Night, when _Erasmus_ spake of Children's Sins, I observed her squeeze _Jack's_ Hand with alle her Mighte. I know what she was thinking of. Having bothe beene forbidden to approach a favourite Part of the River Bank which had given way from too much Use, one or the other of 'em transgressed, as was proven by the smalle Footprints in the Mud, as well as by a Nosegay of Flowers, that grow not, save by the River; to wit, Purple Loosestrife, Cream-and-codlins, Scorpion-grass, Water Plantain, and the like. Neither of 'em woulde confesse, and _Jack_ was, therefore, sentenced to be whipt. As he walked off with Mr. _Drew_, I observed _Cecy_ turn soe pale, that I whispered _Father_ I was certayn she was guilty. He made Answer, "Never mind, we cannot beat a Girl, and 'twill answer the same Purpose; in flogging him, we flog both." _Jack_ bore the firste Stripe or two, I suppose, well enow, but at lengthe we hearde him cry out, on which _Cecy_ coulde not forbeare to doe the same, and then stopt bothe her Ears. I expected everie Moment to heare her say, "_Father_, 'twas I;" but no, she had not Courage for that; onlie, when _Jack_ came forthe all smirched with Tears, she put her Arm about his Neck, and they walked off together into the Nuttery. Since that Hour, she hath beene more devoted to him than ever, if possible; and he, Boy-like, finds Satisfaction in making her his little Slave. But the Beauty lay in my _Father's_ Improvement of the Circumstance. Taking _Cecy_ on his Knee that Evening, (for she was not ostensiblie in Disgrace,) he beganne to talk of Atonement and Mediation for Sin, and who it was that bare our Sins for us on the Tree. 'Tis thus he turns the daylie Accidents of our quiet Lives into Lessons of deepe Import, not pedanticallie delivered, _ex cathedrâ_, but welling forthe from a full and fresh Mind.

This Morn I had risen before Dawn, being minded to meditate on sundrie Matters before _Bess_ was up and doing, she being given to much Talk during her dressing, and made my Way to the Pavilion, where, methought, I should be quiet enow; but beholde! _Father_ and _Erasmus_ were there before me, in fluent and earneste Discourse. I would have withdrawne, but _Father_, without interrupting his Sentence, puts his Arm rounde me and draweth me to him; soe there I sit, my Head on 's Shoulder, and mine Eyes on _Erasmus_ his Face.

From much they spake, and othermuch I guessed, they had beene conversing on the present State of the Church, and how much it needed Renovation.

_Erasmus_ sayd, the Vices of the Clergy and Ignorance of the Vulgar had now come to a Poynt, at the which, a Remedie must be founde, or the whole Fabric would falle to Pieces.

--Sayd, the Revival of Learning seemed appoynted by Heaven for some greate Purpose, 'twas difficulte to say how greate.

--Spake of the new Art of Printing, and its possible Consequents.

--Of the active and fertile Minds at present turning up new Ground and ferreting out old Abuses.

--Of the Abuse of Monachism, and of the evil Lives of Conventualls. In special, of the Fanaticism and Hypocrisie of the Dominicans.

Considered the Evills of the Times such, as that Societie must shortlie, by a vigorous Effort, shake 'em off.

Wondered at the Patience of the Laitie for soe many Generations, but thoughte 'em now waking from theire Sleepe. The People had of late begunne to know theire physickall Power, and to chafe at the Weighte of theire Yoke.

Thoughte the Doctrine of Indulgences altogether bad and false.

_Father_ sayd, that the graduallie increast Severitie of Church Discipline concerning minor Offences had become such as to render Indulgences the needfulle Remedie for Burthens too heavie to be borne.--Condemned a Draconic Code, that visitted even Sins of Discipline with the extream Penaltie. Quoted how ill such excessive Severitie answered in our owne Land, with regard to the Civill Law; twenty Thieves oft hanging together on the same Gibbet, yet Robberie noe Whit abated.

Othermuch to same Purport, the which, if alle set downe, woulde too soon fill my Libellus. At length, unwillinglie brake off, when the Bell rang us to Matins.

At Breakfaste, _William_ and _Rupert_ were earneste with my _Father_ to let 'em row him to _Westminster_, which he was disinclined to, as he was for more Speede, and had promised _Erasmus_ an earlie Caste to _Lambeth_; howbeit, he consented that they should pull us up to _Putney_ in the Evening, and _William_ should have the Stroke-oar. _Erasmus_ sayd, he must thank the _Archbishop_ for his Present of a Horse; "tho' I'm full faine," he observed, "to believe it a Changeling. He is idle and gluttonish, as thin as a Wasp, and as ugly as Sin. Such a Horse, and such a Rider!"

In the Evening _Will_ and _Rupert_ had made 'emselves spruce enow, with Nosegays and Ribbons, and we tooke Water bravelie;--_John Harris_ in the Stern, playing the Recorder. We had the six-oared Barge; and when _Rupert Allington_ was tired of pulling, Mr. _Clement_ tooke his Oar; and when _he_ wearied, _John Harris_ gave over playing the Pipe; but _William_ and Mr. _Gunnel_ never flagged.

_Erasmus_ was full of his Visitt to the _Archbishop_, who, as usuall, I think, had given him some Money.

"We sate down two hundred to Table," sayth he; "there was Fish, Flesh, and Fowl; but _Wareham_ onlie played with his Knife, and drank noe Wine. He was very cheerfulle and accessible; he knows not what Pride is; and yet, of how much mighte he be proude! What Genius! What Erudition! what Kindnesse and Modesty! From _Wareham_, who ever departed in Sorrow?"

Landing at _Fulham_, we had a brave Ramble thro' the Meadows. _Erasmus_, noting the poor Children a gathering the Dandelion and Milk-thistle for the Herb-market, was avised to speak of forayn Herbes and theire Uses, bothe for Food and Medicine.

"For me," says _Father_, "there is manie a Plant I entertayn in my Garden and Paddock which the Fastidious woulde caste forthe. I like to teache my Children the Uses of common Things--to know, for Instance, the Uses of the Flowers and Weeds that grow in our Fields and Hedges. Manie a poor Knave's Pottage woulde be improved, if he were skilled in the Properties of the Burdock and Purple Orchis, Lady's-smock, Brook-lime, and Old Man's Pepper. The Roots of Wild Succory and Water Arrow-head mighte agreeablie change his Lenten Diet; and Glasswort afford him a Pickle for his Mouthfulle of Salt-meat. Then, there are Cresses and Wood-sorrel to his Breakfast, and Salep for his hot evening Mess. For his Medicine, there is Herb-twopence, that will cure a hundred Ills; Camomile, to lull a raging Tooth; and the Juice of Buttercup to cleare his Head by sneezing. Vervain cureth Ague; and Crowfoot affords the leaste painfulle of Blisters. St. _Anthony's_ Turnip is an Emetic; Goose-grass sweetens the Blood; Woodruffe is good for the Liver; and Bindweed hath nigh as much Virtue as the forayn Scammony. Pimpernel promoteth Laughter; and Poppy, Sleep: Thyme giveth pleasant Dreams; and an Ashen Branch drives evil Spirits from the Pillow. As for Rosemarie, I lett it run alle over my Garden Walls, not onlie because my Bees love it, but because 'tis the Herb sacred to Remembrance, and, therefore, to Friendship, whence a Sprig of it hath a dumb Language that maketh it the chosen Emblem at our Funeral Wakes, and in our Buriall Grounds. Howbeit, I am a Schoolboy prating in Presence of his Master, for here is _John Clement_ at my Elbow, who is the best Botanist and Herbalist of us all."

--Returning Home, the Youths being warmed with rowing, and in high Spiritts, did entertayn themselves and us with manie Jests and Playings upon Words, some of 'em forced enow, yet provocative of Laughing. Afterwards, Mr. _Gunnel_ proposed Enigmas and curious Questions. Among others, he woulde know which of the famous Women of Greece or Rome we Maidens would resemble. _Bess_ was for _Cornelia_, _Daisy_ for _Clelia_, but I for _Damo_, Daughter of _Pythagoras_, which _William Roper_ deemed stupid enow, and thoughte I mighte have found as good a Daughter, that had not died a Maid. Sayth _Erasmus_, with his sweet, inexpressible Smile, "Now I will tell you, Lads and Lasses, what manner of Man _I_ would be, if I were not _Erasmus_. I woulde step back some few Years of my Life, and be half-way 'twixt thirty and forty; I would be pious and profounde enow for the Church, albeit noe Churchman; I woulde have a blythe, stirring, English Wife, and half-a-dozen merrie Girls and Boys, an English Homestead, neither Hall nor Farm, but betweene both; neare enow to the Citie for Convenience, but away from its Noise. I woulde have a Profession, that gave me some Hours daylie of regular Businesse, that should let Men know my Parts, and court me into Publick Station, for which my Taste made me rather withdrawe. I woulde have such a private Independence, as should enable me to give and lend, rather than beg and borrow. I woulde encourage Mirthe without Buffoonerie, Ease without Negligence; my Habitt and Table shoulde be simple, and for my Looks I woulde be neither tall nor short, fat nor lean, rubicund nor sallow, but of a fayr Skin with blue Eyes, brownish Beard, and a Countenance engaging and attractive, soe that alle of my Companie coulde not choose but love me."

"Why, then, you woulde be _Father_ himselfe," cries _Cecy_, clasping his Arm in bothe her Hands with a Kind of Rapture; and, indeede, the Portraiture was soe like, we coulde not but smile at the Resemblance.

Arrived at the Landing, _Father_ protested he was wearie with his Ramble; and, his Foot slipping, he wrenched his Ankle, and sate for an Instante on a Barrow, the which one of the Men had left with his Garden-tools, and before he could rise or cry out, _William_, laughing, rolled him up to the House-door; which, considering _Father's_ Weight, was much for a Stripling to doe. _Father_ sayd the same, and, laying his Hand on _Will's_ Shoulder with Kindnesse, cried, "Bless thee, my Boy, but I woulde not have thee overstrayned like _Biton_ and _Cleobis_."

_June 20._

This Morn, hinting to _Bess_ that she was lacing herselfe too straitlie, she brisklie replyed, "One would think 'twere as great Meritt to have a thick Waiste as to be one of the earlie Christians!"

These humourous Retorts are ever at her Tongue's end; and albeit, as _Jacky_ one Day angrilie remarked when she had beene teazing him, "_Bess_, thy Witt is Stupidnesse;" yet, for one who talks soe much at Random, no one can be more keene when she chooseth. _Father_ sayd of her, half fondly, half apologeticallie, to _Erasmus_, "Her Wit hath a fine Subtletie that eludes you almoste before you have Time to recognize it for what it really is." To which _Erasmus_ readilie assented, adding, that it had the rare Meritt of playing less on Persons than Things, and never on bodilie Defects.

Hum!--I wonder if they ever sayd as much in Favour of me. I know, indeede, _Erasmus_ calls me a forward Girl. Alas! that may be taken in two Senses.

Grievous Work, overnighte, with the churning. Nought would persuade _Gillian_ but that the Creame was bewitched by _Gammer Gurney_, who was dissatisfyde last Friday with her Dole, and hobbled away mumping and cursing. At alle Events, the Butter would not come; but _Mother_ was resolute not to have soe much good Creame wasted; soe sent for _Bess_ and me, _Daisy_ and _Mercy Giggs_; and insisted on our churning in turn till the Butter came, if we sate up alle Night for 't. 'Twas a hard Saying; and mighte have hampered her like as _Jephtha_ his rash Vow: howbeit, soe soone as she had left us, we turned it into a Frolick, and sang _Chevy Chase_ from end to end, to beguile Time; ne'erthelesse, the Butter would not come; soe then we grew sober, and, at the Instance of sweete _Mercy_, chaunted the 119th Psalme; and, by the Time we had attained to "_Lucerna Pedibus_," I hearde the Buttermilk separating and splashing in righte earneste. 'Twas neare Midnighte, however; and _Daisy_ had fallen asleep on the Dresser. _Gillian_ will ne'er be convinced but that our Latin brake the Spell.

_21st._

_Erasmus_ went to _Richmond_ this Morning with _Polus_, (for soe he Latinizes _Reginald Pole_, after his usual Fashion,) and some other of his Friends. On his Return, he made us laugh at the following. They had clomb the Hill, and were admiring the Prospect, when _Pole_, casting his Eyes aloft, and beginning to make sundrie Gesticulations, exclaimed, "What is it I beholde? May Heaven avert the Omen!" with suchlike Exclamations, which raised the Curiositie of alle. "Don't you beholde," cries he, "that enormous Dragon flying through the Sky? his Horns of Fire? his curly Tail?"

"No," says _Erasmus_, "nothing like it. The Sky is as cleare as unwritten Paper."