No More Learning

_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. _ And what next?

_Po. _ At last my Father was going about to disinherit me in good
earnest. Some Friends interpos'd, and made up the Breach upon this
Condition; that I should renounce the _French_ Woman, and marry one of
our own Country.

_Eu. _ Was she your Wife?

_Po. _ There had past some Words between us in the future Tense, but
there had been carnal Copulation in the present Tense.

_Eu. _ How could you leave her then?

_Po. _ It came to be known afterwards, that my _French_ Woman had a
_French_ Husband that she had elop'd from some Time before.

_Eu. _ But it seems you have a Wife now.

_Po. _ None besides this which is my Eighth.

_Eu. _ The Eighth! Why then you were named _Polygamus_ by Way of
Prophecy. Perhaps they all died without Children.

_Po. _ Nay, there was not one of them but left me a Litter which I have
at Home.

_Eu. _ I had rather have so many Hens at Home, which would lay me Eggs.
An't you weary of wifeing?

_Po. _ I am so weary of it, that if this Eighth should die to Day, I
would marry the Ninth to-Morrow. Nay, it vexes me that I must not have
two or three, when one Cock has so many Hens.

_Eu. _ Indeed I don't wonder, Mr. Cock, that you are no fatter, and that
you have brought old Age upon you to that Degree; for nothing brings on
old Age faster, than excessive and hard Drinking, keeping late Hours,
and Whoring, extravagant Love of Women, and immoderate Venery. But who
maintains your Family all this While?

_Po. _ A small Estate came to me by the Death of my Father, and I work
hard with my Hands.

_Eu. _ Have you given over Study then?

_Po. _ Altogether. I have brought a Noble to Nine Pence, and of a Master
of seven Arts, I am become a Workman of but one Art.

_Eu. _ Poor Man! So many Times you were obliged to be a Mourner, and so
many Times a Widower.

_Po. _ I never liv'd single above ten Days, and the new Wife always put
an End to the Mourning for the old one. So, you have in Truth the
Epitome of my Life; and I wish _Pampirus_ would give us a Narration of
his Life; he bears his Age well enough: For if I am not mistaken, he is
two or three Years older than I.

_Pa. _ Truly I'll tell it ye, if you are at Leisure to hear such a
Romance.

_Eu. _ Nay, it will be a Pleasure to hear it.

_Pa. _ When I went Home my antient Father began to press me earnestly to
enter into some Course of Life, that might make some Addition to what I
had; and after long Consultation Merchandizing was what I took to.

_Po. _ I admire this Way of Life pleas'd you more than any other.

_Pa. _ I was naturally greedy to know new Things, to see various
Countries and Cities, to learn Languages, and the Customs and Manners of
Men, and Merchandize seem'd the most apposite to that Purpose. From
which a general Knowledge of Things proceeds.

_Po. _ But a wretched one, which is often purchas'd with Inconveniencies.

_Pa. _ It is so, therefore my Father gave me a good large Stock, that I
might begin to trade upon a good Foundation: And at the same Time I
courted a Wife with a good Fortune, but handsome enough to have gone off
without a Portion.

_Eu. _ Did you succeed?

_Pa. _ No. Before I came Home, I lost all, Stock and Block.

_Eu. _ Perhaps by Shipwreck.

_Pa. _ By Shipwreck indeed. For we run upon more dangerous Rocks than
those of _Scilly_.

_Eu. _ In what Sea did you happen to run upon that Rock? Or what is the
Name of it?

_Pa. _ I can't tell what Sea 'tis in, but it is a Rock that is infamous
for the destruction of a great many, they call it _Alea_ [Dice, the
Devil's Bones] in _Latin_, how you call it in _Greek_ I can't tell.

_Eu. _ O Fool!

_Pa. _ Nay, my Father was a greater Fool, to trust a young Fop with such
a Sum of Money.

_Gl. _ And what did you do next?

_Pa. _ Why nothing at all, but I began to think of hanging myself.

_Gl. _ Was your Father so implacable then? For such a Loss might be made
up again; and an Allowance is always to be made to one that makes the
first Essay, and much more it ought to be to one that tries all Things.

_Pa. _ Tho' what you say may be true, I lost my Wife in the mean Time.
For as soon as the Maid's Parents came to understand what they must
expect, they would have no more to do with me, and I was over Head and
Ears in Love.

_Gl. _ I pity thee. But what did you propose to yourself after that?

_Pa. _ To do as it is usual in desperate Cases. My Father had cast me
off, my Fortune was consum'd, my Wife was lost, I was every where call'd
a Sot, a Spendthrift, a Rake and what not? Then I began to deliberate
seriously with myself, whether I should hang myself or no, or whether I
should throw myself into a Monastery.

_Eu. _ You were cruelly put to it! I know which you would chuse, the
easier Way of Dying.

_Pa. _ Nay, sick was I of Life itself; I pitched upon that which seem'd
to me the most painful.

_Gl. _ And yet many People cast themselves into Monasteries, that they
may live more comfortably there.

_Pa. _ Having got together a little Money to bear my Charges, I stole out
of my own Country.

_Gl. _ Whither did you go at last?

_Pa. _ Into _Ireland_, there I became a Canon Regular of that Order that
wear Linnen outwards and Woollen next their Skin.

_Gl. _ Did you spend your Winter in _Ireland_?

_Pa. _ No. But by that Time I had been among them two Months I sail'd
into _Scotland_.

_Gl. _ What displeas'd you among them?

_Pa. _ Nothing, but that I thought their Discipline was not severe enough
for the Deserts of one, that once Hanging was too good for.

_Gl. _ Well, what past in _Scotland_?

_Pa. _ Then I chang'd my Linnen Habit for a Leathern one, among the
Carthusians.

_Eu. _ These are the Men, that in Strictness of Profession, are dead to
the World.

_Pa. _ It seem'd so to me, when I heard them Singing.

_Gl. _ What? Do dead Men sing? But how many Months did you spend among
the _Scots_?

_Pa. _ Almost six.

_Gl. _ A wonderful Constancy.

_Eu. _ What offended you there?

_Pa. _ Because it seem'd to me to be a lazy, delicate Sort of Life; and
then I found there, many that were not of a very sound Brain, by Reason
of their Solitude. I had but a little Brain myself, and I was afraid I
should lose it all.

_Po. _ Whither did you take your next Flight?

_Pa. _ Into France: There I found some cloath'd all in Black, of the
Order of St. Benedict, who intimate by the Colour of their Cloaths, that
they are Mourners in this World; and among these, there were some, that
for their upper Garment wore Hair-Cloth like a Net.

_Gl. _ A grievous Mortification of the Flesh.

_Pa. _ Here I stay'd eleven Months.

_Eu. _ What was the Matter that you did not stay there for good and all?

_Pa. _ Because I found there were more Ceremonies than true Piety: And
besides, I heard that there were some who were much holier, which
_Bernard_ had enjoin'd a more severe Discipline, the black Habit being
chang'd into a white one; with these I liv'd ten Months.

_Eu. _ What disgusted you here?

_Pa. _ I did not much dislike any Thing, for I found them very good
Company; but the _Greek_ Proverb ran in my Mind;

[Greek: Dei tas chelônas ê phagein ê mê phagein. ]

_One must either eat Snails, or eat nothing at all. _

Therefore I came to a Resolution, either not to be a Monk, or to be a
Monk to Perfection. I had heard there were some of the Order of St.
_Bridget_, that were really heavenly Men, I betook myself to these.

_Eu. _ How many Months did you stay there?

_Pa. _ Two Days; but not quite that.

_Gl. _ Did that Kind of Life please you no better than so?

_Pa. _ They take no Body in, but those that will profess themselves
presently; but I was not yet come to that Pitch of Madness, so easily to
put my Neck into such a Halter, that I could never get off again. And as
often as I heard the Nuns singing, the Thoughts of my Mistress that I
had lost, tormented my Mind.