No More Learning

_ Good Morrow to you, dear Cousin.

_Sol. _ I scarce knew you.

_Cart. _ Am I grown so old in two Years Time?

_Sol. _ No; but your bald Crown, and your new Dress, make you look to me
like another Sort of Creature.

_Cart. _ It may be you would not know your own Wife, if she should meet
you in a new Gown.

_Sol. _ No; not if she was in such a one as yours.

_Cart. _ But I know you very well, who are not altered as to your Dress;
but your Face, and the whole Habit of your Body: Why, how many Colours
are you painted with? No Bird had ever such a Variety of Feathers. How
all is cut and slash'd! Nothing according to Nature or Fashion! your cut
Hair, your half-shav'd Beard, and that Wood upon your upper Lip,
entangled and standing out straggling like the Whiskers of a Cat. Nor is
it one single Scar that has disfigured your Face, that you may very well
be taken for one of the _Samian literati_, [q. d. burnt in the Cheek]
concerning whom there is a joking Proverb.

_Sol. _ Thus it becomes a Man to come back from the Wars. But, pray, tell
me, was there so great a Scarcity of good Physicians in this Quarter of
the World?

_Cart. _ Why do you ask?

_Sol. _ Because you did not get the Distemper of your Brain cur'd, before
you plung'd yourself into this Slavery.

_Cart. _ Why, do you think I was mad then?

_Sol. _ Yes, I do. What Occasion was there for you to be buried here,
before your Time, when you had enough in the World to have lived
handsomely upon?

_Cart. _ What, don't you think I live in the World now?

_Sol. _ No, by _Jove_.

_Cart. _ Tell me why.

_Sol. _ Because you can't go where you list. You are confin'd in this
Place as in a Coop. Besides, your bald Pate, and your prodigious strange
Dress, your Lonesomeness, your eating Fish perpetually, so that I admire
you are not turn'd into a Fish.

_Cart. _ If Men were turn'd into what they eat, you had long ago been
turn'd into a Hog, for you us'd to be a mighty Lover of Pork.

_Sol. _ I don't doubt but you have repented of what you have done, long
enough before now, for I find very few that don't repent of it.

_Cart. _ This usually happens to those who plunge themselves headlong
into this Kind of Life, as if they threw themselves into a Well; but I
have enter'd into it warily and considerately, having first made Trial
of myself, and having duly examined the whole Ratio of this Way of
Living, being twenty-eight Years of Age, at which Time, every one may be
suppos'd to know himself. And as for the Place, you are confined in a
small Compass as well as I, if you compare it to the Extent of the
whole World. Nor does it signify any Thing how large the Place is, as
long as it wants nothing of the Conveniences of Life. There are many
that seldom stir out of the City in which they were born, which if they
were prohibited from going out, would be very uneasy, and would be
wonderfully desirous to do it. This is a common Humour, that I am not
troubled with. I fancy this Place to be the whole World to me, and this
Map represents the whole Globe of the Earth, which I can travel over in
Thought with more Delight and Security than he that sails to the
new-found Islands.

_Sol. _ What you say as to this, comes pretty near the Truth.

_Cart. _ You can't blame me for shaving my Head, who voluntarily have
your own Hair clipp'd, for Conveniency Sake. Shaving, to me, if it does
nothing else, certainly keeps my Head more clean, and perhaps more
healthful too. How many Noblemen at _Venice_ shave their Heads all over?
What has my Garment in it that is monstrous? Does it not cover my Body?
Our Garments are for two Uses, to defend us from the Inclemency of the
Weather, and to cover our Nakedness. Does not this Garment answer both
these Ends? But perhaps the Colour offends you. What Colour is more
becoming Christians than that which was given to all in Baptism? It has
been said also, _Take a white Garment_; so that this Garment puts me in
Mind of what I promised in Baptism, that is, the perpetual Study of
Innocency. And besides, if you call that Solitude which is only a
retiring from the Crowd, we have for this the Example, not only of our
own, but of the ancient Prophets, the _Ethnick_ Philosophers, and all
that had any Regard to the keeping a good Conscience. Nay, Poets,
Astrologers, and Persons devoted to such-like Arts, whensoever they take
in Hand any Thing that's great and beyond the Sphere of the common
People, commonly betake themselves to a Retreat. But why should you call
this Kind of Life Solitude? The Conversation of one single Friend drives
away the Tædium of Solitude. I have here more than sixteen Companions,
fit for all Manner of Conversation. And besides, I have Friends who
come to visit me oftner than I would have them, or is convenient Do I
then, in your Opinion, live melancholy?

_Sol. _ But you cannot always have these to talk with.

_Cart. _ Nor is it always expedient: For Conversation is the pleasanter,
for being something interrupted.

_Sol. _ You don't think amiss; for even to me myself, Flesh relishes much
better after Lent.

_Cart. _ And more than that, when I seem to be most alone, I don't want
Companions, which are by far more delightful and entertaining than those
common Jesters.

_Sol. _ Where are they?

_Cart. _ Look you, here are the four Evangelists. In this Book he that so
pleasantly commun'd with the two Disciples in the Way going to _Emaus_,
and who by his heavenly Discourse caus'd them not to be sensible of the
Fatigue of their Journey, but made their Hearts burn within them with a
divine Ardour of hearing his sweet Words, holds Conversation with me. In
this I converse with _Paul_, with _Isaiah_, and the rest of the
Prophets. Here the most sweet _Chrysostom_ converses with me, and
_Basil_, and _Austin_, and _Jerome_, and _Cyprian_, and the rest of the
Doctors that are both learned and eloquent. Do you know any such
pleasant Companions abroad in the World, that you can have Conversation
with? Do you think I can be weary of Retirement, in such Society as
this? And I am never without it.

_Sol. _ But they would speak to me to no Purpose, who do not understand
them.

_Cart. _ Now for our Diet, what signifies it with what Food this Body of
ours is fed which is satisfied with very little, if we live according to
Nature? Which of us two is in the best Plight? You who live upon
Partridges, Pheasants and Capons; or I who live upon Fish?

_Sol. _ If you had a Wife as I have, you would not be so lusty.

_Cart. _ And for that Reason, any Food serves us, let it be never so
little.

_Sol. _ But in the mean Time, you live the Life of a _Jew_.

_Cart. _ Forbear Reflections: If we cannot come up to Christianity, at
least we follow after it.

_Sol. _ You put too much Confidence in Habits, Meats, Forms of Prayer,
and outward Ceremonies, and neglect the Study of Gospel Religion.

_Cart. _ It is none of my Business to judge what others do: As to myself,
I place no Confidence in these Things, I attribute nothing to them; but
I put my Confidence in Purity of Mind, and in _Christ_ himself.

_Sol. _ Why do you observe these Things then?

_Cart. _ That I may be at Peace with my Brethren, and give no Body
Offence. I would give no Offence to any one for the Sake of these
trivial Things, which it is but a very little Trouble to observe. As we
are Men, let us wear what Cloaths we will. 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.