The gentile sinner, or, Englands brave gentleman characterized in a letter to a friend both as he is and as he should be.

§. 6. His Language and Discourse.

His Language and Discourse are altoge∣ther suitable to his Habit and Garbe; All affected and Apish, but indeed for the most part much more vile, sinfull and Abomina∣ble. When it is most Innocent, then is it Idle and Light, and then most quaint and Rhetoricall, when Drolling or prophane. Although he make it his whole businesse whensoever he dares be Bookish (which in∣deed he dreads as much as any thing but to be Good) to furnish himselfe with an Elegant and Courtlike expression; yet will all but amount to this at most, that some∣times he may be able to talke well, and show us how much he is a better Speaker then a man: That he shall be able to carve out his Language into some of the

most Modish and Dissembling Complements, and to Interlard an affected discourse, with many an Impertinent Parenthesis. And then amidst all this his Time-observing hand and foot do so point, accent and A∣dorne all with Curious and Phantastick flourishes, that his words are often as much lost in his Actions, as his sense in his words.

A piece of noisy Bombast denominates him one of the great Wits, where the Sub∣stance of his discourse (if it have any) is dress'd up in so rude and Antique a forme; that staring (as it were) the hearer in his face, it goes nigh to scare him out of his Wits.

If Don Quixot or some Romance more in Fashion, can but furnish him with a few New-Coyn'd words, and an Idle tale or two to make up his talke at the next Or∣dinary▪ In his own fond Conceit and by the votes of his simple Companions, he is car∣ried up to Heaven; a wanton piece of Drol∣lery will send him beyond it.

To be truly Ingenious is not the way to Humour his Frollick Companions, and there∣fore he is put to study out something else which must serve for a while instead of

wit, and 'tis strange, he can think of no∣thing will doe this so well as flat fo••lery; for most perfectly such is that Dr••lling veine wherein he is so frequently industri∣ous to show himselfe a witty foole; What a learned age is this we live in, when he is the best Companion for a Gentleman, who can best act the Rustick, and most facile∣ly Imitate the rudenesse and Flatnesse of his language? and when he alone must be esteem'd the Wit, who can neatliest play the fool to Humour Mad-men? To be sober or serious in the Gentleman's Dictio∣nary, signifies just as much as to be Dull and Bl••ckish. A Phancy which dares not roave about, beyond the limits of Sobri••ty and Discretion, nor proclaime her selfe to be most affectedly prophane, or as industri∣ously vaine and Idle, is a Bird that has no note sweet enough for his Cage. Tis a wonderfull thing to see, how the Apish Ingenuity of this Age, has cut the very throat of all sober Invention, and Genuine wit. A Mimicall tone, a Phantastick action, a Couchant sense, and a Phrase Rampant, quarter the Coat of our Modern Gentile Wit. Such are the Spungy Eares

of most Companions, that they will suck in nothing but froth: And the Gentleman looks upon him as a poore solitary foole, who will not thus make himselfe on Asse for Com∣pany.

But (alas) all these are but he Innocent recre∣ations of his Tongue, wherein it sports it selfe in it's Infancy, e're it attaine to that nimble∣nesse and volubility of expression which be∣comes a Gentleman. Hee is not alwayes de∣lighted in these soft walkes; but as he grows more a man, hee chooses him rougher paths, and more manly exercises. By degrees hee steps up from Idlenesse, and Emptinesse, foolery & Drollery, to Scurrility & ••bloquy; when at every step he tramples some Good Man's Ho∣nour in the Dust; at each word he spits in the face of his Betters, and labours to bespatter with the Dirt of Infamy and Disgrace, every name and reputation, that stands above his owne: And you may be sure he will ever throw the blackest dirt upon the fairest face, where it may certainly do the greatest mis∣chiefe, and be most conspicuous. Like an ex∣perienced Archer, he never misses the white; but (as good luck is) such is the Impenitra∣bility of Innocence, when darted at by the

poyson'd arrowes of Envy, he never holes it. If this black breath of his could blow out, or eclipse those lights that shine brightest, wee should not have one starre left in vertue's Heaven: And those lights which were sent into the world to guide him timely and truly out of it into a better, he first endeavours to extinguish, that so he may without check or shame wander through all the workes of dark∣nesse into Hell. What so often in his mouth, as that which he never names but with the deepest accent of scorne and disdain, a Paltry Parson? And he does not stick of∣ten to tel him to his face, that when he comes to have as much wit as zeall, he will begin to tell him another tale then that of Heaven; that he may doe well to keep him to his tub, and tell a precise story once or twice a week, to his Ignorant Auditors in his Countrey-Church, and forbear to read lectures of Godlinesse to persons whom he should be afraid to looke upon but at a Di∣stance. That he brought more learning from school with him, then all the Canonicall Cas∣socks and Girdles in the Nation, with all their tough Logicall Notions and knotty Metaphysicks shall be ever able to Contain.

With a thousand more such like raveings of a wild and Atheisticall brain. I shall willing∣ly forbeare to personate him any farther in them, lest he might think me able (as I hope I shall never bee) to reach the Frantick strain of his loose and prophaine Railleryes.

Neither are his Discourses less Beastly then Devillish, less Filthy then Malicious. So foul, obseane, and nauseous for the most part are his words, that some one or other as little acquainted with a God as himsefe, will be apt to conclude, that nature spoyl'd him in the making, and set his Mouth at the wrong end of his Body. Certainly there must be a Corrupted and putrified Soul within, whence there dayly steames out so much o∣dious and stinking breath. Indeed so strange∣ly is the Gentleman's Palate distemper'd by this same loathsome Disease, that he can now rellish just nothing but the very Ex∣crements of Discourse. He is not onely ta∣ken with the wanten language and Lascivi∣ous Dialect of Love, wherein to accomplish himselfe, he makes it too much his buesyness to collect what he can out of all the loose past••ralls, Beastly Poems, and Baudy pieces of Drollery, which by their number seem to

turne our Booksellers shops into so many Iakes: But he takes a great deal of pleasure to lick with his tongue, the Nauseous Bot∣ches, and Putrified sores, and the Infectious Leprosies of wit. O how does he delight to dwell upon the sore place of an obscene Poem▪ and he neuer Commends the Poet for any thing but his Infirmityes. He is no Company for the Gallant of late, who will not once at least before the close of every Period Commit Lip-Adultery. As there is not any more filthy vice of the tongue then this; so neither do I ever find the Gentle∣man more in Love with any other; Except it be that one which I am now to name.

And that is it, which indeed I tremble to mention, though he esteems it the greatest Grace and Ornament of his Discourse. I mean, Swearing. For as the Gentleman seems Continually to measure out his time by sins insteed of Minutes; so his louder Oaths, were they not so very frequent, might well be Compared to the Great Clocke, which gives us notice how his houres passe. This is that pleasing part of his language, wherein he so ordinarily bids defiance to his God, and so powerfully Courts the Devill; with whom

by this means he has as frequent Converse as if he were his Familiar. And he has so great a variety of these Hellish Complements, that the Maister of that Language Sathan himselfe, may in a little time stand in need of an Interpreter to understand him.

This is a sin to which there are so few co∣lourable Inducements or prov••cations, that herein, or not at all, the Gallant shows his Proficiency under that Good Master he serves, and proves how straight he can goe to Hell and how fast, without a guide or baite. Here indeed he seems to cry out up∣on Eve for a Lazy and dull sinner, whilst in Every Oath he loudly swears, that soul not to be worth a damning, which cannot sin without a temptation. Tis here he expresses his great Charity to the Devill, for as if he were afraid the tempter should have to great a load of other men's sins at the last and great day of acounts, he freely exempts him from putting his helping hand to some of his sins, and openly professes he is able to goe farre enough out of the way to Heaven without a seducer.

How many Horrible and hideous Oathes

does he daily invent, onely to swell up his cheekes, and make his words sound high and bigge in the Eares of those that tremble not to heare him? with what boldnesse and pride does he abuse God's most Holy and tremen∣dous Name, by making it a cloake and varnish to set off his most false, loose, and prophane speeches. As if indeed he had this desperate designe upon Almighty God, to render his sacred Name Odious to the world, by taking it so often into his prophane lips.

Unto this we may here adde that other as Common extravagancy of his tongue, which is the abusing and making a Mock of God's Word, as well as his Name. His Rhetoricke seemes all Low and Flat so long as his Me∣taphors lye on this side Prophanenesse; but when he has once got a trick to heave up his cheekes, and set his face against the Heavens, and to embosse his discourse with a Rumbling Oath, then hee begins to think himselfe an Oratour with a witnesse.