No More Learning

Men are so humoursome, the
Agreement or Disagreement in the most minute Matters, either procures or
destroys Concord. The shaving of the Head, or Colour of the Habit does
not indeed, of themselves, recommend me to God: But what would the
People say, if I should let my Hair grow, or put on your Habit? I have
given you my Reasons for my Way of Life; now, pray, in your Turn, give
me your Reasons for yours, and tell me, were there no good Physicians in
your Quarter, when you listed yourself for a Soldier, leaving a young
Wife and Children at Home, and was hired for a pitiful Pay to cut Men's
Throats, and that with the Hazard of your own Life too? For your
Business did not lie among Mushrooms and Poppies, but armed Men. What do
you think is a more unhappy Way of living, for a poor Pay, to murder a
Fellow Christian, who never did you Harm, and to run yourself Body and
Soul into eternal Damnation?

_Sol. _ Why, it is lawful to kill an Enemy.

_Cart. _ Perhaps it may be so, if he invades your native Country: Nay,
and it is pious too, to fight for your Wife, Children, your Parents and
Friends, your Religion and Liberties, and the publick Peace. But what is
all that to your fighting for Money? If you had been knocked on the
Head, I would not have given a rotten Nut to redeem the very Soul of
you.

_Sol. _ No?

_Cart. _ No, by Christ, I would not. Now which do you think is the harder
Task, to be obedient to a good Man, which we call Prior, who calls us to
Prayers, and holy Lectures, the Hearing of the saving Doctrine, and to
sing to the Glory of God: Or, to be under the Command of some barbarous
Officer, who often calls you out to fatiguing Marches at Midnight, and
sends you out, and commands you back at his Pleasure, exposes you to the
Shot of great Guns, assigns you a Station where you must either kill or
be killed?

_Sol. _ There are more Evils than you have mentioned yet.

_Cart. _ If I shall happen to deviate from the Discipline of my Order, my
Punishment is only Admonition, or some such slight Matter: But in War,
if you do any Thing contrary to the General's Orders, you must either be
hang'd for it, or run the Gantlope; for it would be a Favour to have
your Head cut off.

_Sol. _ I can't deny what you say to be true.

_Cart. _ And now your Habit bespeaks, that you han't brought much Money
Home, after all your brave Adventures.

_Sol. _ As for Money, I have not had a Farthing this good While; nay, I
have gotten a good Deal into Debt, and for that Reason I come hither out
of my Way, that you might furnish me with some Money to bear my Charges.

_Cart. _ I wish you had come out of your Way hither, when you hurried
yourself into that wicked Life of a Soldier. But how come you so bare?

_Sol. _ Do you ask that? Why, whatsoever I got of Pay, Plunder,
Sacrilege, Rapine and Theft, was spent in Wine, Whores and Gaming.

_Cart. _ O miserable Creature! And all this While your Wife, for whose
Sake God commanded you to leave Father and Mother, being forsaken by
you, sat grieving at Home with her young Children. And do you think this
is Living, to be involved in so many Miseries, and to wallow in so great
Iniquities?

_Sol. _ The having so many Companions of my Wickedness, made me
insensible of my Evil.

_Cart. _ But I'm afraid your Wife won't know you again.

_Sol. _ Why so?

_Cart. _ Because your Scars have made you the Picture of quite another
Man. What a Trench have you got here in your Forehead? It looks as if
you had had a Horn cut out.

_Sol. _ Nay, if you did but know the Matter, you would congratulate me
upon this Scar.

_Cart. _ Why so?

_Sol. _ I was within a Hair's Breadth of losing my Life.

_Cart. _ Why, what Mischief was there?

_Sol. _ As one was drawing a Steel Cross-bow, it broke, and a Splinter of
it hit me in the Forehead.

_Cart. _ You have got a Scar upon your Cheek that is above a Span long.

_Sol. _ I got this Wound in a Battel.

_Cart. _ In what Battel, in the Field?

_Sol. _ No, but in a Quarrel that arose at Dice.

_Cart. _ And I see I can't tell what Sort of Rubies on your Chin.

_Sol. _ O they are nothing.

_Cart. _ I suspect that you have had the Pox.

_Sol. _ You guess very right, Brother. It was the third Time I had that
Distemper, and it had like to have cost me my Life.

_Cart. _ But how came it, that you walk so stooping, as if you were
ninety Years of Age; or like a Mower, or as if your Back was broke?

_Sol. _ The Disease has contracted my Nerves to that Degree.

_Cart. _ In Truth you have undergone a wonderful Metamorphosis: Formerly
you were a Horseman, and now of a Centaur, you are become a Kind of
semi-reptile Animal.

_Sol. _ This is the Fortune of War.

_Cart. _ Nay, 'tis the Madness of your own Mind. But what Spoils will you
carry Home to your Wife and Children? The Leprosy? for that Scab is only
a Species of the Leprosy; and it is only not accounted so, because it
is the Disease in Fashion, and especially among Noblemen: And for this
very Reason, it should be the more carefully avoided. And now you will
infect with it those that ought to be the dearest to you of any in the
World, and you yourself will all your Days carry about a rotten Carcass.

_Sol. _ Prithee, Brother, have done chiding me. I have enough upon me
without Chiding.

_Cart. _ As to those Calamities, I have hitherto taken Notice of, they
only relate to the Body: But what a Sort of a Soul do you bring back
with you? How putrid and ulcered? With how many Wounds is that sore?

_Sol. _ Just as clean as a _Paris_ common Shore in _Maburtus_'s Road, or
a common House of Office.

_Cart. _ I am afraid it stinks worse in the Nostrils of God and his
Angels.

_Sol. _ Well, but I have had Chiding enough, now speak to the Matter, of
something to bear my Charges.

_Cart. _ I have nothing to give you, but I'll go and try what the Prior
will do.

_Sol. _ If any Thing was to be given, your Hands would be ready to
receive it; but now there are a great many Difficulties in the Way, when
something is to be paid.

_Cart. _ As to what others do, let them look to that, I have no Hands,
either to give or take Money: But we'll talk more of these Matters after
Dinner, for it is now Time to sit down at Table.




_PHILETYMUS and PSEUDOCHEUS. _


The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy sets forth the Disposition and Nature of a
Liar, who seems to be born to lie for crafty Gain. A Liar
is a Thief. Gain got by Lying, is baser than that which
is got by a Tax upon Urine. An egregious Method of
deceiving is laid open. Cheating Tradesmen live better
than honest ones. _


_PHILETYMUS and PSEUDOCHEUS. _

_Phil. _ From what Fountain does this Flood of Lies flow?

_Pseud. _ From whence do Spiders Webs proceed?

_Phil. _ Then it is not the _Product_ of Art, but of Nature.

_Pseud. _ The Seeds indeed proceed from Nature; but Art and Use have
enlarg'd the Faculty.

_Phil. _ Why, are you not asham'd of it?

_Pseud. _ No more than a Cuckow is of her Singing.

_Phil. _ But you can alter your Note upon every Occasion. The Tongue of
Man was given him to speak the Truth.

_Pseud. _ Ay, to speak those Things that tend to his Profit: The Truth is
not to be spoken at all Times.

_Phil. _ It is sometimes for a Man's Advantage to have pilfering Hands;
and the old Proverb is a Witness, that that is a Vice that is
Cousin-German to yours of Lying.

_Pseud. _ Both these Vices are supported by good Authorities: One has
_Ulysses_, so much commended by _Homer_, and the other has _Mercury_,
that was a God, for its Example, if we believe the Poets.

_Phil. _ Why then do People in common curse Liars, and hang Thieves?

_Pseud. _ Not because they lie or steal, but because they do it
bunglingly or unnaturally, not rightly understanding the Art.

_Phil. _ Is there any Author that teaches the Art of Lying?

_Pseud. _ Your Rhetoricians have instructed in the best Part of the Art.

_Phil. _ These indeed present us with the Art of well speaking.

_Pseud. _ True: and the good Part of speaking well, is to lie cleverly.

_Phil. _ What is clever Lying?

_Pseud. _ Would you have me define it?

_Phil. _ I would have you do it.

_Pseud. _ It is to lie so, that you may get Profit by it, and not be
caught in a Lie.

_Phil. _ But a great many are caught in lying every Day.

_Pseud. _ That's because they are not perfect Masters of the Art.

_Phil. _ Are you a perfect Master in it?

_Pseud. _ In a Manner.

_Phil. _ See, if you can tell me a Lie, so as to deceive me.

_Pseud. _ Yes, best of Men, I can deceive you yourself, if I have a Mind
to it.

_Phil. _ Well, tell me some Lie or other then.

_Pseud. _ Why, I have told one already, and did you not catch me in it?

_Phil. _ No.

_Pseud. _ Come on, listen attentively; now I'll begin to lie then.

_Phil. _ I do listen attentively; tell one.

_Pseud. _ Why, I have told another Lie, and you have not caught me.

_Phil. _ In Truth, I hear no Lie yet.

_Pseud. _ You would have heard some, if you understood the Art.

_Phil. _ Do you shew it me then.

_Pseud. _ First of all, I call'd you the best of Men, is not that a
swinging Lie, when you are not so much as good? And if you were good,
you could not be said to be the best, there are a thousand others better
than you.

_Phil. _ Here, indeed, you have deceiv'd me.

_Pseud. _ Well, now try if you can catch me again in another Lie.

_Phil. _ I cannot.

_Pseud. _ I want to have you shew that Sharpness of Wit, that you do in
other Things.

_Phil. _ I confess, I am deficient. Shew me.

_Pseud.
_ When I said, now I will begin to lie, did I not tell you a
swinging Lie then, when I had been accustomed to lie for so many Years,
and I had also told a Lie, just the Moment before.

_Phil. _ An admirable Piece of Witchcraft.

_Pseud. _ Well, but now you have been forewarn'd, prick up your Ears,
listen attentively, and see if you can catch me in a Lie.

_Phil. _ I do prick them up; say on.

_Pseud. _ I have said already, and you have imitated me in lying.

_Phil. _ Why, you'll persuade me I have neither Ears nor Eyes by and by.

_Pseud. _ When Mens Ears are immoveable, and can neither be prick'd up
nor let down, I told a Lie in bidding you prick up your Ears.

_Phil. _ The whole Life of Man is full of such Lies.

_Pseud. _ Not only such as these, O good Man, for these are but Jokes:
But there are those that bring Profit.

_Phil. _ The Gain that is got by Lying, is more sordid, than that which
is got by laying a Tax on Urine.

_Pseud. _ That is true, I own; but then 'tis to those that han't the Art
of lying.

_Phil. _ What Art is this that you understand?

_Pseud. _ It is not fit I should teach you for nothing; pay me, and you
shall hear it.

_Phil. _ I will not pay for bad Arts.

_Pseud. _ Then will you give away your Estate?

_Phil. _ I am not so mad neither.

_Pseud. _ But my Gain by this Art is more certain than yours from your
Estate.

_Phil. _ Well, keep your Art to yourself, only give me a Specimen that I
may understand that what you say is not all Pretence.

_Pseud. _ Here's a Specimen for you: I concern myself in all Manner of
Business, I buy, I sell, I receive, I borrow, I take Pawns.

_Phil. _ Well, what then?

_Pseud. _ And in these Affairs I entrap those by whom I cannot easily be
caught.

_Phil. _ Who are those?

_Pseud. _ The soft-headed, the forgetful, the unthinking, those that live
a great Way off, and those that are dead.

_Phil. _ The Dead, to be sure, tell no Tales.

_Pseud. _ If I sell any Thing upon Credit, I set it down carefully in my
Book of Accounts.

_Phil. _ And what then?

_Pseud. _ When the Money is to be paid, I charge the Buyer with more than
he had. If he is unthinking or forgetful, my Gain is certain.

_Phil. _ But what if he catches you?

_Pseud. _ I produce my Book of Accounts.

_Phil. _ What if he informs you, and proves to your Face he has not had
the Goods you charge him with?

_Pseud. _ I stand to it stiffly; for Bashfulness is altogether an
unprofitable Qualification in this Art. My last Shift is, I frame some
Excuse or other.

_Phil. _ But when you are caught openly?

_Pseud. _ Nothing's more easy, I pretend my Servant has made a Mistake,
or I myself have a treacherous Memory: It is a very pretty Way to jumble
the Accounts together, and this is an easy Way to impose on a Person: As
for Example, some are cross'd out, the Money being paid, and others have
not been paid; these I mingle one with another at the latter End of the
Book, nothing being cross'd out. When the Sum is cast up, we contend
about it, and I for the most Part get the better, tho' it be by
forswearing myself. Then besides, I have this Trick, I make up my
Account with a Person when he is just going a Journey, and not prepared
for the Settling it. For as for me, I am always ready. If any Thing be
left with me, I conceal it, and restore it not again. It is a long Time
before he can come to the Knowledge of it, to whom it is sent; and,
after all, if I can't deny the receiving of a Thing, I say it is lost,
or else affirm I have sent that which I have not sent, and charge it
upon the Carrier. And lastly, if I can no Way avoid restoring it, I
restore but Part of it.

_Phil. _ A very fine Art.

_Pseud. _ Sometimes I receive Money twice over, if I can: First at Home,
afterwards there where I have gone, and I am every where. Sometimes
Length of Time puts Things out of Remembrance: The Accounts are
perplexed, one dies, or goes a long Journey: And if nothing else will
hit, in the mean Time I make Use of other People's Money. I bring some
over to my Interest, by a Shew of Generosity, that they may help me out
in lying; but it is always at other People's Cost; of my own, I would
not give my own Mother a Doit. And tho' the Gain in each Particular may
be but small; but being many put together, makes a good round Sum; for
as I said, I concern myself in a great many Affairs; and besides all,
that I may not be catch'd, as there are many Tricks, this is one of the
chief. I intercept all the Letters I can, open them, and read them. If
any Thing in them makes against me, I destroy them, or keep them a long
Time before I deliver them: And besides all this, I sow Discord between
those that live at a great Distance one from another.

_Phil. _ What do you get by that?

_Pseud. _ There is a double Advantage in it. First of all, if that is not
performed that I have promised in another Person's Name, or in whose
Name I have received any Present, I lay it to this or that Man's Door,
that it was not performed, and so these Forgeries I make turn to a
considerable Account.

_Phil. _ But what if he denies it?

_Pseud. _ He's a great Way off, as suppose at _Basil_; and I promise to
give it in _England. _ And so it is brought about, that both being
incensed, neither will believe the one the other, if I accuse them of
any Thing. Now you have a Specimen of my Art.

_Phil. _ But this Art is what we Dullards call Theft; who call a Fig a
Fig, and a Spade a Spade.

_Pseud. _ O Ignoramus in the Law! Can you bring an Action of Theft for
Trover or Conversion, or for one that having borrow'd a Thing forswears
it, that puts a Trick upon one, by some such Artifice?

_Phil. _ He ought to be sued for Theft.

_Pseud. _ Do but then see the Prudence of Artists. From these Methods
there is more Gain, or at least as much, and less Danger.

_Phil. _ A Mischief take you, with your cheating Tricks and Lies, for I
han't a Mind to learn 'em. Good by to ye.

_Pseud. _ You may go on, and be plagu'd with your ragged Truth. In the
mean Time, I'll live merrily upon my thieving, lying Tricks, with Slight
of Hand.




_The SHIPWRECK. _


The ARGUMENT.

Naufragium _exposes the Dangers of those that go to Sea;
the various and foolish Superstition of Mariners. An
elegant Description of a Storm. They indeed run a Risque
that throw their valuable Commodities into the Sea.
Mariners impiously invoke the Virgin_ Mary, _St. _
Christopher, _and the Sea itself. Saints are not to be
pray'd to, but God alone. _


ANTONY _and_ ADOLPH.

_Ant. _ You tell dreadful Stories: Is this going to Sea? God forbid that
ever any such Thing should come into my Mind.

_Adol. _ That which I have related, is but a Diversion, in Comparison to
what you'll hear presently.

_Ant. _ I have heard Calamities enough already, my Flesh trembles to hear
you relate them, as if I were in Danger myself.

_Adol. _ But Dangers that are past, are pleasant to be thought on. One
thing happen'd that Night, that almost put the Pilot out of all Hopes of
Safety.

_Ant. _ Pray what was that?

_Adol. _ The Night was something lightish, and one of the Sailors was got
into the Skuttle (so I think they call it) at the Main-Top-Mast, looking
out if he could see any Land; a certain Ball of Fire began to stand by
him, which is the worst Sign in the World to Sailors, if it be single;
but a very good one, if double. The Antients believed these to be
_Castor_ and _Pollux_.

_Ant. _ What have they to do with Sailors, one of which was a Horseman,
and the other a Prize-Fighter?

_Adol. _ It was the Pleasure of Poets, so to feign. The Steersman who sat
at the Helm, calls to him, Mate, says he, (for so Sailors call one
another) don't you see what a Companion you have by your Side? I do see,
says he, and I pray that he may be a lucky one. By and by this fiery
Ball glides down the Ropes, and rolls itself over and over close to the
Pilot.

_Ant. _ And was not he frighted out of his Wits?

_Adol. _ Sailors are us'd to terrible Sights. It stopp'd a little there,
then roll'd itself all round the Sides of the Ship; after that, slipping
through the Hatches, it vanished away. About Noon the Storm began to
increase. Did you ever see the _Alps_?

_Ant. _ I have seen them.

_Adol. _ Those Mountains are Mole Hills, if they be compar'd to the Waves
of the Sea. As oft as we were toss'd up, one might have touch'd the Moon
with his Finger; and as oft as we were let fall down into the Sea, we
seem'd to be going directly down to Hell, the Earth gaping to receive
us.

_Ant. _ O mad Folks, that trust themselves to the Sea!

_Adol. _ The Mariners striving in Vain with the Storm, at length the
Pilot, all pale as Death comes to us.

_Ant. _ That Paleness presages some great Evil.

_Adol. _ My Friends, says he, I am no longer Master of my Ship, the Wind
has got the better of me; all that we have now to do is to place our
Hope in God, and every one to prepare himself for Death.

_Ant. _ This was cold Comfort.

_Adol. _ But in the first Place, says he, we must lighten the Ship;
Necessity requires it, tho' 'tis a hard Portion. It is better to
endeavour to save our Lives with the Loss of our Goods, than to perish
with them. The Truth persuaded, and a great many Casks of rich
Merchandize were thrown over-Board. _Ant. _ This was casting away,
according to the Letter.

_Adol. _ There was in the Company, a certain _Italian_, that had been
upon an Embassy to the King of _Scotland_. He had a whole Cabinet full
of Plate, Rings, Cloth, and rich wearing Apparel.

_Ant. _ And he, I warrant ye, was unwilling to come to a Composition with
the Sea.

_Adol. _ No, he would not; he had a Mind either to sink or swim with his
beloved Riches.

_Ant. _ What said the Pilot to this?

_Adol. _ If you and your Trinkets were to drown by yourselves, says he,
here's no Body would hinder you; but it is not fit that we should run
the Risque of our Lives, for the Sake of your Cabinet: If you won't
consent, we'll throw you and your Cabinet into the Sea together.

_Ant. _ Spoken like a Tarpawlin.

_Adol. _ So the Italian submitted, and threw his Goods over-Board, with
many a bitter Curse to the Gods both above and below, that he had
committed his Life to so barbarous an Element.

_Ant. _ I know the Italian Humour.

_Adol. _ The Winds were nothing the less boisterous for our Presents, but
by and by burst our Cordage, and threw down our Sails.

_Ant. _ Lamentable!

_Adol. _ Then the Pilot comes to us again.

_Ant. _ What, with another Preachment?

_Adol. _ He gives us a Salute; my Friends, says he, the Time exhorts us
that every one of us should recommend himself to God, and prepare for
Death. Being ask'd by some that were not ignorant in Sea Affairs, how
long he thought the Ship might be kept above Water, he said, he could
promise nothing, but that it could not be done above three Hours.

_Ant. _ This was yet a harder Chapter than the former.

_Adol. _ When he had said this, he orders to cut the Shrouds and the Mast
down by the Board, and to throw them, Sails and all, into the Sea.

_Ant.