AULUS, BARBATUS.

AU. Salute freely, is a Lesson for Children. But I can't tell whether I should bid you be well or no.

Ba. In Truth I had rather any one would make me well, than bid me be so. Aulus, Why do you say that?

Au. Why? Because if you have a Mind to know, you smell of Brimstone, or Jupiter's Thunderbolt.

Ba. There are mischievous Deities, and there are harmless Thunderbolts, that differ much in their Original from those that are ominous. For I fancy you mean something about Excommunication.

Au. You're right.

Ba. I have indeed heard dreadful Thunders, but I never yet felt the Blow of the Thunderbolt.

Au. How so?

Ba. Because I have never the worse Stomach, nor my Sleep the less sound.

Au. But a Distemper is commonly so much the more dangerous, the less it is felt. But these brute Thunderbolts as you call 'em, strike the Mountains and the Seas.

Ba. They do strike 'em indeed, but with Strokes that have no effect upon 'em. There is a Sort of Lightning that proceeds from a Glass or a Vessel of Brass.

Au. Why, and that affrights too.

Ba. It may be so, but then none but Children are frighted at it. None but God has Thunderbolts that strike the Soul.

Au. But suppose God is in his Vicar.

Ba. I wish he were.

Au. A great many Folks admire, that you are not become blacker than a Coal before now.

Ba. Suppose I were so, then the Salvation of a lost Person were so much the more to be desired, if Men followed the Doctrine of the Gospel.

Au. It is to be wished indeed, but not to be spoken of.

Ba. Why so?

Au. That he that is smitten with the Thunderbolt may be ashamed and repent.

Ba. If God had done so by us, we had been all lost.

Au. Why so?

Ba. Because when we were Enemies to God, and Worshippers of Idols, fighting under Satan's Banner, that is to say, every Way most accursed; then in an especial Manner he spake to us by his Son, and by his treating with us restored us to Life when we were dead.

Au. That thou say'st is indeed very true.

Ba. In Truth it would go very hard with all sick Persons, if the Physician should avoid speaking to 'em, whensoever any poor Wretch was seized with a grievous Distemper, for then he has most Occasion for the Assistance of a Doctor.

Au. But I am afraid that you will sooner infect me with your Distemper than I shall cure you of it. It sometimes falls out that he that visits a sick Man is forced to be a Fighter instead of a Physician.

Ba. Indeed it sometimes happens so in bodily Distempers: But in the Diseases of the Mind you have an Antidote ready against every Contagion.

Au. What's that?

Ba. A strong Resolution not to be removed from the Opinion that has been fixed in you. But besides, what Need you fear to become a Fighter, where the Business is managed by Words?

Au. There is something in what you say, if there be any Hope of doing any good.

Ba. While there is Life there is Hope, and according to St. Paul, Charity can't despair, because it hopes all Things.

Au. You observe very well, and upon this Hope I may venture to discourse with you a little; and if you'll permit me, I'll be a Physician to you.

Ba. Do, with all my Heart.

Au. Inquisitive Persons are commonly hated, but yet Physicians are allowed to be inquisitive after every particular Thing.

Ba. Ask me any Thing that you have a Mind to ask me.

Au. I'll try. But you must promise me you'll answer me sincerely.

Ba. I'll promise you. But let me know what you'll ask me about.

Au. Concerning the Apostles Creed.

Ba. Symbolum is indeed a military Word. I will be content to be look'd upon an Enemy to Christ, if I shall deceive you in this Matter.

Au. Dost thou believe in God the Father Almighty, who made the Heaven and Earth.

Ba. Yes, and whatsoever is contained in the Heaven and Earth, and the Angels also which are Spirits.

Au. When thou say'st God, what dost thou understand by it?

Ba. I understand a certain eternal Mind, which neither had Beginning nor shall have any End, than which nothing can be either greater, wiser, or better.

Au. Thou believest indeed like a good Christian.

Ba. Who by his omnipotent Beck made all Things visible or invisible; who by his wonderful Wisdom orders and governs all Things; who by his Goodness feeds and maintains all Things, and freely restored Mankind when fallen.

Au. These are indeed three especial Attributes in God: But what Benefit dost thou receive by the Knowledge of them?

Ba. When I conceive him to be Omnipotent, I submit myself wholly to him, in comparison of whose Majesty, the Excellency of Men and Angels is nothing. Moreover, I firmly believe whatsoever the holy Scriptures teach to have been done, and also that what he hath promised shall be done by him, seeing he can by his single Beck do whatsoever he pleases, how impossible soever it may seem to Man. And upon that Account distrusting my own Strength, I depend wholly upon him who can do all Things. When I consider his Wisdom, I attribute nothing at all to my own, but I believe all Things are done by him righteously and justly, although they may seem to human Sense absurd or unjust. When I animadvert on his Goodness, I see nothing in myself that I do not owe to free Grace, and I think there is no Sin so great, but he is willing to forgive to a true Penitent, nor nothing but what he will freely bestow on him that asks in Faith.

Au. Dost thou think that it is sufficient for thee to believe him to be so?

Ba. By no Means. But with a sincere Affection I put my whole Trust and Confidence in him alone, detesting Satan, and all Idolatry, and magic Arts. I worship him alone, preferring nothing before him, nor equalling nothing with him, neither Angel, nor my Parents, nor Children, nor Wife, nor Prince, nor Riches, nor Honours, nor Pleasures; being ready to lay down my Life if he call for it, being assur'd that he can't possibly perish who commits himself wholly to him.

Au. What then, dost thou worship nothing, fear nothing, love nothing but God alone?

Ba. If I reverence any Thing, fear any Thing, or love any Thing, it is for his Sake I love it, fear it, and reverence it; referring all Things to his Glory, always giving Thanks to him for whatsoever happens, whether prosperous or adverse, Life or Death.

Au. In Truth your Confession is very sound so far. What do you think concerning the second Person?

Ba. Examine me.

Au. Dost thou believe Jesus was God and Man?

Ba. Yes.

Au. Could it be that the same should be both immortal God and mortal Man?

Ba. That was an easy Thing for him to do who can do what he will: And by Reason of his divine Nature, which is common to him with the Father, whatsoever Greatness, Wisdom, and Goodness I attribute to the Father, I attribute the same to the Son; and whatsoever I owe to the Father, I owe also to the Son, but only that it hath seemed good to the Father to bestow all Things on us through him.

Au. Why then do the holy Scriptures more frequently call the Son Lord than God?

Ba. Because God is a Name of Authority, that is to say, of Sovereignty, which in an especial Manner belongeth to the Father, who is absolutely the Original of all Things, and the Fountain even of the Godhead itself. Lord is the Name of a Redeemer and Deliverer, altho' the Father also redeemed us by his Son, and the Son is God, but of God the Father. But the Father only is from none, and obtains the first Place among the divine Persons.

Au. Then dost thou put thy Confidence in Jesus?

Ba. Why not?

Au. But the Prophet calls him accursed who puts his Trust in Man.

Ba. But to this Man alone hath all the Power in Heaven and Earth been given, that at his Name every Knee should bow, both of Things in Heaven, Things in Earth, and Things under the Earth. Although I would not put my chief Confidence and Hope in him, unless he were God.

Au. Why do you call him Son?

Ba. Lest any should imagine him to be a Creature.

Au. Why an only Son?

Ba. To distinguish the natural Son from the Sons by Adoption, the Honour of which Sirname he imputes to us also, that we may look for no other besides this Son.

Au. Why would he have him to be made Man, who was God?

Ba. That being Man, he might reconcile Men to God.

Au. Dost thou believe he was conceived without the Help of Man, by the Operation of the holy Ghost, and born of the undented Virgin Mary, taking a mortal Body of her Substance?

Ba. Yes.

Au. Why would he be so born?

Ba. Because it so became God to be born, because it became him to be born in this Manner, who was to cleanse away the Filthiness of our Conception and Birth. God would have him to be born the Son of Man, that we being regenerated into him, might be made the Sons of God.

Au. Dost thou believe that he lived here upon Earth, did Miracles, taught those Things that are recorded to us in the Gospel?

Ba. Ay, more certainly than I believe you to be a Man.

Au. I am not an Apuleius turned inside out, that you should suspect that an Ass lies hid under the Form of a Man. But do you believe this very Person to be the very Messiah whom the Types of the Law shadowed out, which the Oracle of the Prophets promised, which the Jews looked for so many Ages?

Ba. I believe nothing more firmly.

Au. Dost thou believe his Doctrine and Life are sufficient to lead us to perfect Piety?

Ba. Yes, perfectly sufficient.

Au. Dost thou believe that the same was really apprehended by the Jews, bound, buffeted, beaten, spit upon, mock'd, scourg'd under Pontius Pilate; and lastly, nailed to the Cross, and there died?

Ba. Yes, I do.

Au. Do you believe him to have been free from all the Law of Sin whatsoever?

Ba. Why should I not? A Lamb without Spot.

Au. Dost thou believe he suffered all these Things of his own accord?

Ba. Not only willingly, but even with great Desire; but according to the Will of his Father.

Au. Why would the Father have his only Son, being innocent and most dear to him, suffer all these Things?

Ba. That by this Sacrifice he might reconcile to himself us who were guilty, we putting our Confidence and Hope in his Name.

Au. Why did God suffer all Mankind thus to fall? And if he did suffer them, was there no other Way to be found out to repair our Fall?

Ba. Not human Reason, but Faith hath persuaded me of this, that it could be done no Way better nor more beneficially for our Salvation.

Au. Why did this Kind of Death please him best?

Ba. Because in the Esteem of the World it was the most disgraceful, and because the Torment of it was cruel and lingring, because it was meet for him who would invite all the Nations of the World unto Salvation, with his Members stretch'd out into every Coast of the World, and call off Men, who were glew'd unto earthly Cares, to heavenly Things; and, last of all, that he might represent to us the brazen Serpent that Moses set up upon a Pole, that whoever should fix his Eyes upon it, should be heal'd of the Wounds of the Serpent, and fulfil the Prophet's Promise, who prophesied, say ye among the Nations, God hath reign'd from a Tree.

Au. Why would he be buried also, and that so curiously, anointed with Myrrh and Ointments, inclosed in a new Tomb, cut out of a hard and natural Rock, the Door being seal'd, and also publick Watchmen set there?

Ba. That it might be the more manifest that he was really dead.

Au. Why did he not rise again presently?

Ba. For the very same Reason; for if his Death had been doubtful, his Resurrection had been doubtful too; but he would have that to be as certain as possible could be.

Au. Do you believe his Soul descended into Hell?

Ba. St. Cyprian affirms that this Clause was not formerly inserted either in the Roman Creed or in the Creed of the Eastern Churches, neither is it recorded in Tertullian, a very ancient Writer. And yet notwithstanding, I do firmly believe it, both because it agrees with the Prophecy of the Psalm, Thou wilt not leave my Soul in Hell; and again, O Lord, thou hast brought my Soul out of Hell. And also because the Apostle Peter, in the third Chapter of his first Epistle (of the Author whereof no Man ever doubted,) writes after this Manner, Being put to Death in the Flesh, but quickned by the Spirit, in which also he came and preach'd by his Spirit to those that were in Prison. But though I believe he descended into Hell, yet I believe he did not suffer anything there. For he descended not to be tormented there, but that he might destroy the Kingdom of Satan.

Au. Well, I hear nothing yet that is impious; but he died that he might restore us to Life again, who were dead in Sin. But why did he rise to live again?

Ba. For three Reasons especially.

Au. Which are they?

Ba. First of all, to give us an assur'd Hope of our Resurrection. Secondly, that we might know that he in whom we have plac'd the Safety of our Resurrection is immortal, and shall never die. Lastly, that we being dead in Sins by Repentance, and buried together with him by Baptism, should by his Grace be raised up again to Newness of Life.

Au. Do you believe that the very same Body that died upon the Cross, which reviv'd in the Grave, which was seen and handled by the Disciples, ascended into Heaven?

Ba. Yes, I do.

Au. Why would he leave the Earth?

Ba. That we might all love him spiritually, and that no Man should appropriate Christ to himself upon the Earth, but that we should equally lift up our Minds to Heaven, knowing that our Head is there. For if Men now so much please themselves in the Colour and Shape of the Garment, and do boast so much of the Blood or the Foreskin of Christ, and the Milk of the Virgin Mary, what do you think would have been, had he abode on the Earth, eating and discoursing? What Dissentions would those Peculiarities of his Body have occasioned?

Au. Dost thou believe that he, being made immortal, sitteth at the right Hand of the Father?

Ba. Why not? As being Lord of all Things, and Partaker of all his Father's Kingdom. He promised his Disciples that this should be, and he presented this Sight to his Martyr Stephen.

Au. Why did he shew it?

Ba. That we may not be discouraged in any Thing, well knowing what a powerful Defender and Lord we have in Heaven.

Au. Do you believe that he will come again in the same Body, to judge the Quick and the Dead?

Ba. As certain as I am, that those Things the Prophets have foretold concerning Christ hitherto have come to pass, so certain I am, that whatsoever he would have us look for for the future, shall come to pass. We have seen his first Coming, according to the Predictions of the Prophets, wherein he came in a low Condition, to instruct and save. We shall also see his second, when he will come on high, in the Glory of his Father, before whose Judgment-Seat all Men of every Nation, and of every Condition, whether Kings or Peasants, Greeks, or Scythians, shall be compell'd to appear; and not only those, whom at that Coming he shall find alive, but also all those who have died from the Beginning of the World, even until that Time, shall suddenly be raised, and behold his Judge every one in his own Body. The blessed Angels also shall be there as faithful Servants, and the Devils to be judg'd. Then he will, from on high, pronounce that unvoidable Sentence, which will cast the Devil, together with those that have taken his Part, into eternal Punishments, that they may not after that, be able to do Mischief to any. He will translate the Godly, being freed from all Trouble, to a Fellowship with him in his heavenly Kingdom: Although he would have the Day of his coming unknown to all.

Au. I hear no Error yet. Let us now come to the third Person.

Ba. As you please.

Au. Dost thou believe in the holy Spirit?

Ba. I do believe that it is true God, together with the Father, and the Son. I believe they that wrote us the Books of the Old and New Testament were inspired by it, without whose Help no Man attains Salvation.

Au. Why is he called a Spirit?

Ba. Because as our Bodies do live by Breath, so our Minds are quicken'd by the secret Inspiration of the holy Spirit.

Au. Is it not lawful to call the Father a Spirit?

Ba. Why not?

Au. Are not then the Persons confounded?

Ba. No, not at all, for the Father is called a Spirit, because he is without a Body, which Thing is common to all the Persons, according to their divine Nature: But the third Person is called a Spirit, because he breathes out, and transfuses himself insensibly into our Minds, even as the Air breathes from the Land, or the Rivers.

Au. 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. 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.

Gl. Well, and what after this?

Pa. My Mind was inflamed with the Love of Holiness; nor yet had I met with any Thing that could satisfy it. At last, as I was walking up and down, I fell in among some Cross-Bearers. This Badge pleas'd me at first Sight; but the Variety hindered me from chusing which to take to. Some carried a white Cross, some a red Cross, some a green Cross, some a party-colour'd Cross, some a single Cross, some a double one, some a quadruple, and others some of one Form, and some of another; and I, that I might leave nothing untry'd, I carried some of every Sort. But I found in reality, that there was a great Difference between carrying a Cross on a Gown or a Coat, and carrying it in the Heart. At last, being tired with Enquiry, it came into my Mind, that to arrive at universal Holiness all at once, I would take a Journey to the holy Land, and so would return Home with a Back-Load of Sanctimony.

Po. And did you go thither?

Pa. Yes.

Po. Where did you get Money to bear your Charges?

Pa. I wonder it never came into your Head, to ask that before now, and not to have enquir'd after that a great While ago: But you know the old Proverb; a Man of Art will live any where.

Gl. What Art do you carry with you?

Pa. Palmistry.

Gl. Where did you learn it?

Pa. What signifies that?

Gl. Who was your Master?

Pa. My Belly, the great Master of all Arts: I foretold Things past, present, and to come.

Gl. And did you know any Thing of the Matter?

Pa. Nothing at all; but I made bold Guesses, and run no Risque neither, having got my Money first.

Po. And was so ridiculous an Art sufficient to maintain you?

Pa. It was, and two Servants too: There is every where such a Number of foolish young Fellows and Wenches. However, when I came to Jerusalem, I put myself into the Train of a rich Nobleman, who being seventy Years of Age, said he could never have died in Peace, unless he had first visited Jerusalem.

Eu. What, did he leave a Wife at Home?

Pa. Yes, and six Children.

Eu. O impious, pious, old Man! Well, and did you come back holy from thence?

Pa. Shall I tell you the Truth? Somewhat worse than I went.

Eu. So, as I hear, your Religion was grown cool.

Pa. Nay, it grew more hot: So I went back into Italy, and enter'd into the Army.

Eu. What, then, did you look for Religion in the Camp. Than which, what is there that can be more impious?

Pa. It was a holy War.

Eu. Perhaps against the Turks.

Pa. Nay, more holy than that, as they indeed gave out at that Time.

Eu. What was that?

Pa. Pope Julius the Second made War upon the French. And the Experience of many Things that it gives a Man, made me fancy a Soldier's Life.

Eu. Of many Things indeed; but wicked ones.

Pa. So I found afterwards: But however, I liv'd harder here, than I did in the Monasteries.

Eu. And what did you do after this?

Pa. Now my Mind began to be wavering, whether I should return to my Business of a Merchant, that I had laid aside, or press forward in Pursuit of Religion that fled before me. In the mean Time it came into my Mind, that I might follow both together.

Eu. What, be a Merchant and a Monk both together?

Pa. Why not? There is nothing more religious than the Orders of Mendicants, and there is nothing more like to Trading. They fly over Sea and Land, they see many Things, they hear many Things, they enter into the Houses of common People, Noblemen, and Kings.

Eu. Ay, but they don't Trade for Gain.

Pa. Very often, with better Success than we do.

Eu. Which of these Orders did you make Choice of?

Pa. I try'd them all.

Eu. Did none of them please you?

Pa. I lik'd them all well enough, if I might but presently have gone to Trading; but I consider'd in my Mind, I must labour a long Time in the Choir, before I could be qualified for the Trust: So now I began to think how I might get to be made an Abbot: But, I thought with myself, Kissing goes by Favour, and it will be a tedious Pursuit: So having spent eight Years after this Manner, hearing of my Father's Death, I return'd Home, and by my Mother's Advice, I marry'd, and betook myself to my old Business of Traffick.

Gl. Prithee tell me, when you chang'd your Habit so often, and were transform'd, as it were, into another Sort of Creature, how could you behave yourself with a proper Decorum?

Pa. Why not, as well as those who in the same Comedy act several Parts?

Eu. Tell us now in good earnest, you that have try'd every Sort of Life, which you most approve of.

Pa. So many Men, so many Minds: I like none better than this which I follow.

Eu. But there are a great many Inconveniences attend it.

Pa. There are so. But seeing there is no State of Life, that is entirely free from Incommodities, this being my Lot, I make the best on't: But now here is Eusebius still, I hope he will not think much to acquaint his Friends with some Scenes of his Course of Life.

Eu. Nay, with the whole Play of it, if you please to hear it, for it does not consist of many Acts.

Gl. It will be a very great Favour.

Eu. When I return'd to my own Country, I took a Year to deliberate what Way of Living to chuse, and examin'd myself, to what Employment my Inclination led me, and I was fit for. In the mean Time a Prebendary was offered me, as they call it; it was a good fat Benefice, and I accepted it.

Gl. That Sort of Life has no good Reputation among People.

Eu. As human Affairs go, I thought it was a Thing well worth the accepting. Do you look upon it a small Happiness to have so many Advantages to fall into a Man's Mouth, as tho' they dropt out of Heaven; handsome Houses well furnish'd, a large Revenue, an honourable Society, and a Church at Hand, to serve God in, when you have a Mind to it?

Pa. I was scandaliz'd at the Luxury of the Persons, and the Infamy of their Concubines; and because a great many of that Sort of Men have an Aversion to Learning.

Eu. I don't mind what others do, but what I ought to do myself, and associate myself with the better Sort, if I cannot make them that are bad better.

Po. And is that the State of Life you have always liv'd in?

Eu. Always, except four Years, that I liv'd at Padua.

Po. What did you do there?

Eu. These Years I divided in this Manner; I studied Physick a Year and a half, and the rest of the Time Divinity.

Po. Why so?

Eu. That I might the better manage both Soul and Body, and also sometimes be helpful by Way of Advice to my Friends. I preached sometimes according to my Talent. And under these Circumstances, I have led a very quiet Life, being content with a single Benefice, not being ambitiously desirous of any more, and should have refus'd it, if it had been offered me.

Pa. I wish we could learn how the rest of our old Companions have liv'd, that were our Familiars.

Eu. I can tell you somewhat of some of them: but I see we are not far from the City; therefore, if you are willing, we will all take up the same Inn, and there we will talk over the rest at Leisure.

Hugh. You blinking Fellow, where did you take up this Rubbish?

Harry the Waggoner. Where are you carrying that Harlottry, you Pimp?

Hugh. You ought to throw these frigid old Fellows somewhere into a Bed of Nettles, to make them grow warm again.

Harry. Do you see that you shoot that Herd of yours somewhere into a Pond to cool them, to lay their Concupiscence, for they are too hot.

Hugh. I am not us'd to overturn my Passengers.

Harry. No? but I saw you a little While ago, overturn Half a Dozen Carthusians into the Mire, so that tho' they went in white, they came out black, and you stood grinning at it, as if you had done some noble Exploit.

Hugh. I was in the Right of it, they were all asleep, and added a dead Weight to my Waggon.

Harry. But these old Gentlemen, by talking merrily all the Way, have made my Waggon go light. I never had a better Fare.

Hugh. But you don't use to like such Passengers.

Harry. But these are good old Men.

Hugh. How do you know that?

Harry. Because they made me drink humming Ale, three Times by the Way.