No More Learning

_ Why is the Name of Son given to the second Person?

_Ba. _ Because of his perfect Likeness of Nature and Will.

_Au. _ Is the Son more like the Father, than the holy Spirit?

_Ba. _ Not according to the divine Nature, except that he resembles the
Property of the Father the more in this, that the Spirit proceeds from
him also.

_Au. _ What hinders then, but that the holy Spirit may be called Son.

_Ba. _ Because, as St. _Hilary_ saith, I no where read that he was
begotten, neither do I read of his Father: I read of the _Spirit, and
that proceeding from_.

_Au. _ Why is the Father alone called God in the Creed?

_Ba. _ Because he, as I have said before, is simply the Author of all
Things that are, and the Fountain of the whole Deity.

_Au. _ Speak in plainer Terms.

_Ba. _ Because nothing can be nam'd which hath not its Original from the
Father: For indeed, in this very Thing, that the Son and Holy Spirit is
God, they acknowledge that they received it from the Father; therefore
the chief Authority, that is to say, the Cause of Beginning, is in the
Father alone, because he alone is of none: But yet, in the Creed it may
be so taken, that the Name of God may not be proper to one Person, but
used in general; because, it is distinguish'd afterwards by the Terms of
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, into one God; which Word of Nature
comprehends the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; that is to say, the three
Persons.

_Au. _ Dost thou believe in the holy Church?

_Ba. _ No.

_Au. _ What say you? Do you not believe in it?

_Ba. _ I believe the holy Church, which is the Body of Christ; that is to
say, a certain Congregation of all Men throughout the whole World, who
agree in the Faith of the Gospel, who worship one God the Father, who
put their whole Confidence in his Son, who are guided by the same Spirit
of him; from whose Fellowship he is cut off that commits a deadly Sin.

_Au. _ But why do you stick to say, I believe in the holy Church?

_Ba. _ Because St. _Cyprian_ hath taught me, that we must believe in God
alone, in whom we absolutely put all our Confidence. Whereas the Church,
properly so called, although it consists of none but good Men; yet it
consists of Men, who of good may become bad, who may be deceived, and
deceive others.

_Au. _ What do you think of the Communion of Saints?

_Ba. _ This Article is not all meddled with by _Cyprian_, when he
particularly shews what in such and such Churches is more or less used;
for he thus connects them: _For there followeth after this Saying, the
holy Church, the Forgiveness of Sins, the Resurrection of this Flesh_.
And some are of Opinion, that this Part does not differ from the former;
but that it explains and enforces what before was called _the holy
Church_; so that the Church is nothing else but the Profession of one
God, one Gospel, one Faith, one Hope, the Participation of the same
Spirit, and the same Sacraments: To be short, such a Kind of Communion
of all good Things, among all godly Men, who have been from the
Beginning of the World, even to the End of it, as the Fellowship of the
Members of the Body is between one another. So that the good Deeds of
one may help another, until they become lively Members of the Body. But
out of this Society, even one's own good Works do not further his
Salvation, unless he be reconcil'd to the holy Congregation; and
therefore it follows, _the Forgiveness of Sins_; because out of the
Church there is no Remission of Sins, although a Man should pine himself
away with Repentance, and exercise Works of Charity. In the Church, I
say, not of Hereticks, but the holy Church; that is to say, gathered by
the Spirit of Christ, there is Forgiveness of Sins by Baptism, and after
Baptism, by Repentence, and the Keys given to the Church.

_Au. _ Thus far they are the Words of a Man that is sound in the Faith.
Do you believe that there will be a Resurrection of the Flesh?

_Ba. _ I should believe all the rest to no Purpose, if I did not believe
this, which is the Head of all.

_Au. _ What dost thou mean, when thou say'st the Flesh?

_Ba. _ An human Body animated with a human Soul.

_Au. _ Shall every Soul receive its own Body which is left dead?

_Ba. _ The very same from whence it went out; and therefore, in Cyprian's
Creed, it is added, _of this Flesh_.

_Au. _ How can it be, that the Body which hath been now so often chang'd
out of one Thing into another, can rise again the same?

_Ba. _ He who could create whatsoever he would out of nothing, is it a
hard Matter for him to restore to its former Nature that which hath been
changed in its Form? I don't dispute anxiously which Way it can be done;
it is sufficient to me, that he who hath promised that it shall be so,
is so true, that he can't lye, and so powerful, as to be able to bring
to pass with a Beck, whatsoever he pleases.

_Au. _ What need will there be of a Body then?

_Ba. _ That the whole Man may be glorified with Christ, who, in this
World, was wholly afflicted with Christ.

_Au. _ What means that which he adds, _and Life everlasting_.

_Ba. _ Lest any one should think that we shall so rise again, as the
Frogs revive at the Beginning of the Spring, to die again. For here is a
twofold Death of the Body, that is common to all Men, both good and bad;
and of the Soul, and the Death of the Soul is Sin. But after the
Resurrection, the godly shall have everlasting Life, both of Body and
Soul: Nor shall the Body be then any more obnoxious to Diseases, old
Age, Hunger, Thirst, Pain, Weariness, Death, or any Inconveniences; but
being made spiritual, it shall be mov'd as the Spirit will have it: Nor
shall the Soul be any more sollicited with any Vices or Sorrows; but
shall for ever enjoy the chiefest Good, which is God himself. On the
contrary, eternal Death, both of Body and Soul, shall seize upon the
wicked. For their Body shall be made immortal, in order to the enduring
everlasting Torments, and their Soul to be continually vexed with the
Gripes of their Sins, without any Hope of Pardon.

_Au. _ Dost thou believe these things from thy very Heart, and
unfeignedly?

_Ba. _ I believe them so certainly, I tell you, that I am not so sure
that you talk with me.

_Au. _ When I was at _Rome_, I did not find all so sound in the Faith.

_Ba. _ Nay; but if you examine thoroughly, you'll find a great many
others in other Places too, which do not so firmly believe these Things.

_Au. _ Well then, since you agree with us in so many and weighty Points,
what hinders that you are not wholly on our Side?

_Ba. _ I have a mind to hear that of you: For I think that I am orthodox.
Although I will not warrant for my Life yet I endeavour all I can, that
it may be suitable to my Profession.

_Au. _ How comes it about then, that there is so great a War between you
and the orthodox?

_Ba. _ Do you enquire into that: But hark you, Doctor, if you are not
displeased with this Introduction, take a small Dinner with me; and
after Dinner, you may enquire of every Thing at Leisure: I'll give you
both Arms to feel my Pulse, and you shall see both Stool and Urine; and
after that, if you please, you shall anatomize this whole Breast of
mine, that you may make a better Judgment of me.

_Au. _ But I make it a matter of Scruple to eat with thee.

_Ba. _ But Physicians use to eat with their Patients, that they might
better observe what they love, and wherein they are irregular.

_Au. _ But I am afraid, lest I should seem to favour Hereticks.

_Ba. _ Nay, but there is nothing more religious than to favour Hereticks.

_Au. _ How so?

_Ba. _ Did not _Paul_ wish to be made an _Anathema_ for the _Jews_, which
were worse than Hereticks? Does not he favour him that endeavours that a
Man may be made a good Man of a bad Man?

_Au. _ Yes, he does so.

_Ba. _ Well then, do you favour me thus, and you need not fear any Thing.

_Au. _ I never heard a sick Man answer more to the Purpose. Well, come
on, let me dine with you then.

_Ba. _ You shall be entertain'd in a physical Way, as it becomes a
Doctor by his Patient, and we will so refresh our Bodies with Food, that
the Mind shall be never the less fit for Disputation.

_Au. _ Well, let it be so, with good Birds (_i. e. _ with good Success).

_Ba. _ Nay, it shall be with bad Fishes, unless you chance to have forgot
that it is _Friday. _

_Au. _ Indeed, that is beside our Creed.




_The OLD MENS DIALOGUE. _


The ARGUMENT.

[Greek: Terontologia], or, [Greek: Ochêma], _shews, as
tho' it were in a Looking-glass, what Things are to be
avoided in Life, and what Things contribute to the
Tranquillity of Life. Old Men that were formerly intimate
Acquaintance when Boys, after forty Years Absence, one
from the other, happen to meet together, going to_
Antwerp. _There seems to be a very great Inequality in
them that are equal in Age. _ Polygamus, _he is very old:_
Glycion _has no Signs of Age upon him, tho' he is sixty
six; he proposes a Method of keeping off old Age. I. He
consults what Sort of Life to chuse, and follows the
Advice of a prudent old Man, who persuades him to marry a
Wife that was his equal, making his Choice with Judgment,
before he falls in Love. 2. He has born a publick Office,
but not obnoxious to troublesome Affairs. 3. He transacts
Affairs that do not expose him to Envy. 4. He bridles his
Tongue. 5. He is not violently fond of, nor averse to any
Thing. He moderates his Affections, suffers no Sorrow to
abide with him all Night. 6. He abstains from Vices, and
renews his Patience every Day. 7. He is not anxiously
thoughtful of Death. 8. He does not travel into foreign
Countries. 9. He has nothing to do with Doctors. 10. He
diverts himself with Study, but does not study himself
lean. On the other hand_, Polygamus _has brought old Age
upon him, by the Intemperance of his Youth, by Drinking,
Whoring, Gaming, running in Debt; he had had eight
Wives. _ Pampirus, _he becomes a Merchant; but consumes
all he has by Gaming; then he becomes a Canon; then a
Carthusian; after that a Benedictine; and last of all,
turns Soldier. _ Eusebius, _he gets a good Benefice and
preaches. _


EUSEBIUS, PAMPIRUS, POLYGAMUS, GLYCION, HUGUITIO, _and_ HARRY _the
Coachman. _

_Euseb. _ What new Faces do I see here? If I am not mistaken, or do not
see clear, I see three old Companions sitting by me; _Pampirus,
Polygamus_ and _Glycion;_ they are certainly the very same.

_Pa. _ What do you mean, with your Glass Eyes, you Wizard? Pray come
nearer a little, _Eusebius. _

_Po. _ Hail, heartily, my wish'd for _Eusebius. _

_Gl. _ All Health to you, the best of Men.

_Eu. _ One Blessing upon you all, my dear Friends. What God, or
providential Chance has brought us together now, for I believe none of
us have seen the one the other, for this forty Years. Why _Mercury_ with
his Mace could not have more luckily brought us together into a Circle;
but what are you doing here?

_Pa. _ We are sitting.

_Eu. _ I see that, but what do you sit for?

_Po. _ We wait for the _Antwerp_ Waggon.

_Eu. _ What, are you going to the Fair?

_Po. _ We are so: but rather Spectators, than Traders, tho' one has one
Business, and another has another.

_Eu. _ Well, and I am going thither myself too. But what hinders you,
that you are not going?

_Po. _ We han't agreed with the Waggoner yet.

_Eu. _ These Waggoners are a surly Sort of People; but are you willing
that we put a Trick upon them?

_Po. _ With all my Heart, if it can be done fairly.

_Eu. _ We will pretend that we will go thither a-Foot together.

_Po. _ They'll sooner believe that a Crab-Fish will fly, than that such
heavy Fellows as we will take such a Journey on Foot.

_Eu. _ Will you follow good wholsome Advice?

_Po. _ Yes, by all Means.

_Gl. _ They are a drinking, and the longer they are fuddling, the more
Danger we shall be in of being overturned in the Dirt.

_Po. _ You must come very early, if you find a Waggoner sober.

_Gl. _ Let us hire the Waggon for us four by ourselves, that we may get
to _Antwerp_ the sooner: It is but a little more Charge, not worth
minding, and this Expence will be made up by many Advantages; we shall
have the more Room, and shall pass the Journey the more pleasantly in
mutual Conversation.

_Po. _ _Glycion_ is much in the Right on't.
For good Company in a Journey
does the Office of a Coach; and according to the _Greek_ Proverb, we
shall have more Liberty of talking, not about a Waggon, but in a Waggon.

_Gl. _ Well, I have made a Bargain, let us get up. Now I've a Mind to be
merry, seeing I have had the good Luck to see my old dear Comrades after
so long a Separation.

_Eu. _ And methinks I seem to grow young again.

_Po. _ How many Years do you reckon it, since we liv'd together at Paris?

_Eu. _ I believe it is not less than two and forty Years.

_Pa. _ Then we seem'd to be all pretty much of an Age.

_Eu. _ We were so, pretty near the Matter, for if there was any
Difference it was very little.

_Pa. _ But what a great Difference does there seem to be now? For Glycion
has nothing of an old Man about him, and Polygamus looks old enough to
be his Grandfather.

_Eu. _ Why truly he does so, but what should be the Reason of it?

_Pa. _ What? Why either the one loiter'd and stopp'd in his Course, or
the other run faster (out-run him).

_Eu. _ Oh! Time does not stay, how much soever Men may loiter.

_Po. _ Come, tell us, _Glycion_ truly, how many Years do you number?

_Gl. _ More than Ducats in my Pocket.

_Po. _ Well, but how many?

_Gl. _ Threescore and six.

_Eu. _ Why thou'lt never be old.

_Po. _ But by what Arts hast thou kept off old Age? for you have no grey
Hairs, nor Wrinkles in your Skin, your Eyes are lively, your Teeth are
white and even, you have a fresh Colour, and a plump Body.

_Gl. _ I'll tell you my Art, upon Condition you'll tell us your Art of
coming to be old so soon.

_Po. _ I agree to the Condition. I'll do it. Then tell us whither you
went when you left _Paris. _

_Gl. _ I went directly into my own Country, and by that Time I had been
there almost a Year, I began to bethink myself what Course of Life to
chuse; which I thought to be a Matter of great Importance, as to my
future Happiness; so I cast my Thoughts about what had been successful
to some, and what had been unsuccessful to others.

_Po. _ I admire you had so much Prudence, when you were as great a Maggot
as any in the World, when you were at _Paris. _

_Gl. _ Then my Age did permit a little Wildness. But, my good Friend, you
must know, I did not do all this neither of my own mother-Wit.

_Po. _ Indeed I stood in Admiration.

_Gl. _ Before I engaged in any Thing, I applied to a certain Citizen, a
Man of Gravity, of the greatest Prudence by long Experience, and of a
general Reputation with his fellow Citizens, and in my Opinion, the most
happy Man in the World.

_Eu. _ You did wisely.

_Gl. _ By this Man's Advice I married a Wife.

_Po. _ Had she a very good Portion?

_Gl. _ An indifferent good one, and according to the Proverb, in a
competent Proportion to my own: For I had just enough to do my Business,
and this Matter succeeded to my Mind.

_Po. _ What was your Age then?

_Gl. _ Almost two and twenty.

_Po. _ O happy Man!

_Gl. _ But don't mistake the Matter; all this was not owing to Fortune
neither.

_Po. _ Why so?

_Gl. _ I'll tell you; some love before they chuse, I made my Choice with
Judgment first, and then lov'd afterwards, and nevertheless I married
this Woman more for the Sake of Posterity than for any carnal
Satisfaction. With her I liv'd a very pleasant Life, but not above eight
Years.

_Po. _ Did she leave you no children?

_Gl. _ Nay, I have four alive, two Sons and two Daughters.

_Po. _ Do you live as a private Person, or in some publick Office?

_Gl. _ I have a publick Employ. I might have happen'd to have got into a
higher Post, but I chose this because it was creditable enough to secure
me from Contempt, and is free from troublesome Attendance: And it is
such, that no Body need object against me that I live only for myself, I
have also something to spare now and then to assist a Friend. With this
I live content, and it is the very Height of my Ambition. And then I
have taken Care so to execute my Office, to give more Reputation to my
Office than I receiv'd from it; this I account to be more honourable,
than to borrow my Dignity from the Splendor of my Office.

_Eu. _ Without all Controversy.

_Gl. _ By this Means I am advanced in Years, and the Affections of my
fellow Citizens.

_Eu. _ But that's one of the difficultest Things in the World, when with
very good Reason there is this old Saying: _He that has no Enemies has
no Friends_; and _Envy is always an Attendant on Felicity_.

_Gl. _ Envy always is a Concomitant of a pompous Felicity, but a
Mediocrity is safe; this was always my Study, not to make any Advantage
to myself from the Disadvantages of other People. I embraced as much as
I could, that which the _Greeks_ call Freedom from the Encumbrance of
Business. I intermeddled with no one's Affairs; but especially I kept
myself clear from those that could not be meddled with without gaining
the ill Will of a great many. If a Friend wants my Assistance, I so
serve him, as thereby not to procure any Enemies to myself. In Case of
any Misunderstanding between me and any Persons, I endeavour to soften
it by clearing myself of Suspicion, or to set all right again by good
Offices, or to let it die without taking Notice of it: I always avoid
Contention, but if it shall happen, I had rather lose my Money than my
Friend. Upon the Whole, I act the Part of _Mitio_ in the Comedy, I
affront no Man, I carry a chearful Countenance to all, I salute and
resalute affably, I find no Fault with what any Man purposes to do or
does, I don't prefer myself before other People; I let every one enjoy
his Opinion; what I would have kept as a Secret, I tell to no Body: I
never am curious to pry in the Privacies of other Men. If I happen to
come to the Knowledge of any thing, I never blab it. As for absent
Persons, I either say nothing at all of them, or speak of them with
Kindness and Civility. Great Part of the Quarrels that arise between
Men, come from the Intemperance of the Tongue. I never breed Quarrels or
heighten them; but where-ever Opportunity happens, I either moderate
them, or put an End to them. By these Methods I have hitherto kept clear
of Envy, and have maintained the Affections of my fellow Citizens.

_Pa. _ Did you not find a single Life irksome to you?

_Gl. _ Nothing happened to me in the whole Course of my Life, more
afflicting than the Death of my Wife, and I could have passionately
wish'd that we might have grown old together, and might have enjoy'd the
Comfort of the common Blessing, our Children: But since Providence saw
it meet it should be otherwise, I judged that it was best for us both,
and therefore did not think there was Cause for me to afflict myself
with Grief, that would do no good, neither to me nor the Deceased.

_Pol. _ What, had you never an Inclination to marry again, especially the
first having been so happy a Match to you?

_Gl. _ I had an Inclination so to do, but as I married for the Sake of
Children, so for the Sake of my Children I did not marry again.

_Pol. _ But 'tis a miserable Case to lie alone whole Nights without a
Bedfellow.

_Gl. _ Nothing is hard to a willing Mind. And then do but consider the
Benefits of a single Life: There are some People in the World, who will
be for making the worst of every Thing; such a one _Crates_ seemed to
be, or an Epigram under his Name, summing up the Evils of human Life.
And the Resolution is this, that it is best not to be born at all. Now
_Metrodorus_ pleases me a great Deal better, who picks out what is good
in it; this makes Life the pleasanter. And I brought my Mind to that
Temper of Indifference never to have a violent Aversion or Fondness for
any thing. And by this it comes to pass, that if any good Fortune
happens to me, I am not vainly transported, or grow insolent; or if any
thing falls out cross, I am not much perplex'd.

_Pa. _ Truly if you can do this, you are a greater Philosopher than
_Thales_ himself.

_Gl. _ If any Uneasiness in my Mind rises, (as mortal Life produces many
of them) I cast it immediately out of my Thoughts, whether it be from
the Sense of an Affront offered, or any Thing done unhandsomly.

_Pol. _ Well, but there are some Provocations that would raise the Anger
of the most patient Man alive: As the Saucinesses of Servants frequently
are.

_Gl. _ I suffer nothing to stay long enough in my Mind to make an
Impression. If I can cure them I do it, if not, I reason thus with
myself, What good will it do me to torment myself about that which will
be never the better for it? In short, I let Reason do that for me at
first, which after a little While, Time itself would do. And this I be
sure take Care of, not to suffer any Vexation, be it never so great, to
go to Bed with me.

_Eu. _ No wonder that you don't grow old, who are of that Temper.

_Gl. _ Well, and that I mayn't conceal any thing from Friends, in an
especial Manner I have kept this Guard upon myself, never to commit any
Thing that might be a Reflection either on my own Honour or that of my
Children. For there is nothing more troublesome than a guilty
Conscience. And if I have committed a Fault I don't go to Bed before I
have reconcil'd myself to God. To be at Peace with God is the Fountain
of true Tranquillity of Mind, or, as the Greeks call it, [Greek:
euthymia]. For they who live thus, Men can do them no great Injury.

_Eu. _ Have you never any anxious Thoughts upon the Apprehension of
Death?

_Gl. _ No more than I have for the Day of my Birth. I know I must die,
and to live in the Fear of it may possibly shorten my Life, but to be
sure it would never make it longer. So that I care for nothing else but
to live piously and comfortably, and leave the rest to Providence; and a
Man can't live happily that does not live piously.

_Pa. _ But I should grow old with the Tiresomeness of living so long in
the same Place, tho' it were _Rome_ itself.

_Gl. _ The changing of Place has indeed something of Pleasure in it; but
then, as for long Travels, tho' perhaps they may add to a Man's
Experience, yet they are liable to a great many Dangers. I seem to
myself to travel over the whole World in a Map, and can see more in
Histories than if I had rambled through Sea and Land for twenty Years
together, as _Ulysses_ did. I have a little Country-House about two
Miles out of Town, and there sometimes, of a Citizen I become a
Country-Man, and having recreated my self there, I return again to the
City a new Comer, and salute and am welcom'd as if I had return'd from
the new-found Islands.

_Eu. _ Don't you assist Nature with a little Physick?

_Gl. _ I never was let Blood, or took Pills nor Potions in my Life yet.
If I feel any Disorder coming upon me, I drive it away with spare Diet
or the Country Air.

_Eu. _ Don't you study sometimes?

_Gl. _ I do. In that is the greatest Pleasure of my Life: But I make a
Diversion of it, but not a Toil. I study either for Pleasure or Profit
of my Life, but not for Ostentation. After Meat I have a Collation of
learned Stories, or else somebody to read to me, and I never sit to my
Books above an Hour at a Time: Then I get up and take my Violin, and
walk about in my Chamber, and sing to it, or else ruminate upon what I
have read; or if I have a good Companion with me, I relate it, and after
a While I return to my Book again.

_Eu. _ But tell me now, upon the Word of an honest Man; Do you feel none
of the Infirmities of old Age, which are said to be a great many?

_Gl. _ My Sleep is not so sound, nor my Memory so good, unless I fix any
thing deeply in it. Well, I have now acquitted myself of my Promise. I
have laid open to you those magical Arts by which I have kept myself
young, and now let _Polygamus_ tell us fairly, how he brought old Age
upon him to that Degree.

_Po. _ Indeed, I will hide nothing from such trusty Companions.

_Eu. _ You will tell it to those that will not make a Discourse of it.

_Po. _ You very well know I indulg'd my Appetite when I was at _Paris_.

_Eu. _ We remember it very well. But we thought that you had left your
rakish Manners and your youthful Way of Living at _Paris_.

_Po. _ Of the many Mistresses I had there I took one Home, who was big
with Child.

_Eu. _ What, into your Father's House?

_Po. _ Directly thither; but I pretended she was a Friend's Wife, who was
to come to her in a little Time.

_Gl. _ Did your Father believe it?

_Po. _ He smelt the Matter out in three or four Days time, and then there
was a cruel Scolding. However, in this Interim I did not leave off
Feasting, Gaming, and other extravagant Diversions. And in short, my
Father continuing to rate me, saying he would have no such cackling
Gossips under his Roof, and ever and anon threatning to discard me, I
march'd off, remov'd to another Place with my Pullet, and she brought me
some young Chickens.

_Pa. _ Where had you Money all the While?

_Po. _ My Mother gave me some by Stealth, and I ran over Head and Ears in
Debt.

_Eu. _ Had any Body so little Wit as to lend you?

_Po. _ There are some Persons who will trust no Body more readily than
they will a Spendthrift.

_Pa.