The Colloquies of Erasmus, Volume I

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.

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.