Two Dyaloges (c. 1549): Wrytten in laten by the famous clerke, D. Erasm[us] of Roterodame, one called Polyphemus or the gospeller, the other dysposyng of thynges and names, translated in to Englyshe by Edmonde Becke

In Short

These dialogues are spirited, satirical investigations into the human tendency to prioritize labels over reality. In the first, a rugged soldier attempts to justify his hypocrisy by claiming that carrying a New Testament makes him a holy man. In the second, two acquaintances dissect the hollow nature of titles and social prestige, mocking those who cling to labels like "gentleman" while ignoring the virtues that should define them. The work remains vital for its razor-sharp wit and its timeless, uncomfortable question: do you truly embody your principles, or do you merely wear them as a costume?

The Story

The collection opens with an encounter between Cannius and Poliphemus, a soldier who fancies himself a pious "gospeller." Poliphemus is a boisterous, swaggering figure who carries a New Testament, yet his actions—from beating monks to indulging in gluttony—betray his claim to faith. Cannius, playing the role of the relentless truth-teller, systematically dismantles the soldier’s conceit. He points out that carrying a book is not the same as living by its teachings, comparing Poliphemus to a beast who has stumbled into holy vestments. As the argument progresses, Poliphemus tries to defend his lack of prayer, his greed, and his violent temper by citing his "gospeller" status, but Cannius forces him to admit that his life is essentially that of an Epicurean. By the end of their exchange, the soldier is left with no refuge for his vanity; he is forced to concede that his current life is a far cry from the Gospel’s message, though he remains predictably eager to put off the hard work of reform until he is older and "sober."

The second dialogue shifts the focus from religious hypocrisy to the broader social obsession with names and status. Beatus and Bonifacius explore why society is so deeply invested in titles like "gentleman," "bishop," or "honest man," even when the individuals bearing them are clearly the opposite. They observe that while people would never settle for a "name" of wealth if they were actually starving, they are perfectly content to hold the "name" of virtue while their souls are entirely bankrupt. They move through various professions, mocking the lawyer who promises justice but delivers nothing, the merchant who lies as naturally as he breathes, and the "gentleman" who parades in silk while behaving like a swindler. The dialogue concludes with a biting critique of the social codes that allow scoundrels to hide behind the prestige of birth or profession. It ends on a dark, cynical note, highlighting that in the Germany of the time, many such "gentlemen" were really only qualified for the gallows, having traded their integrity for the hollow, dangerous vanity of an empty title.

How It Unfolds

The soldier’s vanity The first dialogue begins when Cannius mocks Poliphemus for carrying a Bible as if it were a weapon of war. This sets the stage for a clash between a man obsessed with his external image and a critic who demands evidence of internal transformation.

The anatomy of hypocrisy Cannius challenges Poliphemus to explain how his violent, gluttonous, and greedy life aligns with the Gospel. The conversation exposes how the soldier uses religious language to excuse his failures, revealing that he treats his faith as a shield for his vices.

The final deflection Poliphemus eventually admits that he lives for his belly and his own pleasure, yet he refuses to change. He concludes the discussion by promising to continue the debate once he is sober, highlighting the permanence of his self-delusion.

The contrast of names and things The second dialogue opens with Beatus and Bonifacius debating whether a name carries any value without the substance it describes. They conclude that society is hopelessly backward, valuing the label of "gentleman" over the reality of a good character.

The parade of imposters The two speakers systematically take down various social archetypes, including dishonest lawyers, thieving executors, and prideful debtors. They argue that these individuals are essentially thieves who happen to have the right labels, and society’s refusal to call them by their true names is a sign of moral decay.

The People

Cannius is the voice of clear-eyed reason, acting as a philosophical gadfly who refuses to let his companion hide behind religious jargon. He is witty, sharp, and patient, though his patience is clearly tested by the sheer thickness of the soldier’s skull.

Poliphemus is the quintessential blustering soldier. He wants the social credit of being a "gospeller" without the inconvenience of actually following a moral code. He is physically imposing and quick to anger, yet he is easily rattled when his own logic is turned against him. He remains, until the very end, a man who knows he is a hypocrite but lacks the strength of will to do anything about it.

Beatus and Bonifacius serve as intellectual mirrors for one another in the second dialogue. Beatus is the more cynical of the two, adept at identifying the absurdity of social titles. Bonifacius acts as the sounding board, helping to articulate the distinction between the "thing" (the reality of a person's character) and the "name" (the social status). Both men end the conversation disillusioned, realizing that the world is populated by people who would rather maintain a comfortable lie than face the truth of their own moral poverty.

In Its Own Voice

"This is a dogge in a doblet, a sowe with a sadle, of all that euer I se it is a non decet."

Cannius expresses his utter disbelief at seeing a crude soldier carrying a holy book, emphasizing how ill-matched the two things are.

"The gospell is suche a lyke thynge of all this worlde, for after that it hathe ones persed & entered in the veynes of the mynd it altereth, transposeth, and cleane changeth vpsodowne the whole state of mã."

Cannius explains to Poliphemus that true faith is not a book one carries, but a transformative force that must fundamentally alter the way a person lives.

"I had rather be called Irus whiche was a poore beggers name then lacke my ryches."

Beatus highlights the hypocrisy of those who claim to prioritize virtue, noting that when it comes to material goods, people are quite honest about preferring the "thing" over the name.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the disparity between appearance and essence. The book explores the danger of a society that values labels—be it "pious," "gentleman," or "honest"—more than the actual conduct of the people behind them. It argues that this obsession with titles is a form of collective delusion that protects scoundrels and prevents genuine reform. By deconstructing both the religious hypocrite and the social pretender, the work interrogates the nature of integrity. It asks whether we value what we truly are, or whether we are content to be merely what we are called, ultimately suggesting that without a correspondence between our labels and our actions, we are all just "asses in lions' skins."

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the biting satire of early modern humanism will find this a fascinating, if occasionally abrasive, experience. It feels like stepping into a room with a brilliant, cynical teacher who delights in pulling the mask off the local elites. The language, while translated in the sixteenth century, retains a raw, punchy energy that makes the arguments feel surprisingly modern. However, the reader should be prepared for the dense, archaic spelling and the period-specific attitudes; the text does not shy away from the harsh social hierarchies of its time.

You will appreciate this book if you are interested in the history of ideas or simply enjoy watching a pompous character get thoroughly dismantled by logic. What stays with you is not just the humor, but the chilling recognition of how little human nature has changed. We still have our "Poliphemuses" today—those who wrap themselves in the language of virtue while ignoring the demands of their own character. Reading these dialogues is a bracing exercise in self-reflection, forcing you to look at the "names" you carry and ask what, if anything, they really mean.