The general[21] opinion of our gentry as to the study of Letters, before and about 1500 A.D., is probably well represented by the opinion of one of them stated by Pace, in his Prefatory Letter to Colet, prefixed to the former’s _De Fructu_[22]. It remains that I now explain to you what moves me to compile and publish a treatise with this title. When, two years ago, more or less, I had returned to my native land from the city of Rome, I was present at a certain feast, a stranger to many; where, when enough had been drunk, one or other of the guests--no fool, as one might infer from his words and countenance--began to talk of educating his children well. And, first of all, he thought that he must search out a good teacher for them, and that they should at any rate attend school. There happened to be present one of those whom we call gentle-men (_generosos_), and who always carry some horn hanging at their backs, as though they would hunt during dinner. He, hearing letters praised, roused with sudden anger, burst out furiously with these words. “Why do you talk nonsense, friend?” he said; “A curse on those stupid letters! all learned men are beggars: even Erasmus, the most learned of all, is a beggar (as I hear), and in a certain letter of his calls τήν κατάρατον πενίαν (that is, execrable poverty) his wife, and vehemently complains that he cannot shake her off his shoulders right into βαθυκήτεα πόντον, that is, into the deep sea. I swear by God’s body I’d rather that my son should hang than study letters. For it becomes the sons of gentlemen to blow the horn nicely (_apte_), to hunt skilfully, and elegantly carry and train a hawk. But the study of letters should be left to the sons of rustics.” At this point I could not restrain myself from answering something to this most talkative man, in defence of good letters. “You do not seem to me, good man,” I said, “to think rightly. For if any foreigner were to come to the king, such as the ambassadors (_oratores_) of princes are, and an answer had to be given to him, your son, if he were educated as you wish, could only blow his horn, and the learned sons of rustics would be called to answer, and would be far preferred to your hunter or fowler son; and they, enjoying their learned liberty, would say to your face, ‘We prefer to be learned, and, thanks to our learning, no fools, than boast of our fool-like nobility.’ “Then he upon this, looking round, said, “Who is this person that is talking like this? I don’t know the fellow.” And when some one whispered in his ear who I was, he muttered something or other in a low voice to himself; and finding a fool to listen to him, he then caught hold of a cup of wine. And when he could get nothing to answer, he began to drink, and change the conversation to other things. And thus I was freed from the disputing of this mad fellow,--which I was dreadfully afraid would