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

§. 16. His Religion.

I have told you (Sir) already that the Gentleman is not ashamed to be call'd a Re∣ligious man; although that Epithete be thought no better then a terme of debase∣ment, by the degenerate Gentry of our age. He ownes a God, and he Worships him, and makes that Honour which he observes others to render unto God, the ground of his re∣spect to them. He looks upon no man as a Gentleman, but him alone, who derives his pedigree higher then from Adam, even from Heaven: and he accounts all those who can brook any Dishonour or Contempt of their God that one Common father of us all, as a Bastard and no Son. It would be no Honour for him to seeke an acquaintance here upon Earth, and therefore by his fre∣quent Devotions he often goes to seek out a better in Heaven; where he may be sure

to meet with such, as shall be worth his kee∣ping. He dares call every man a Fool to his face who with David's Fool, suffers ei∣ther his tongue or his heart to say There is no God.

If you aske him, what Religion he is of, his answer is ready, of his mother's; that is, he is a true Son of the Church: And yet is he onely so farre her Son, as he sees her wil∣ling to continue his Saviour's Spouse. Nei∣ther is he content to be still an Infant in Religion, and to be taught onely (as mo∣thers use to teach their young children) to say his prayers and his Creed by rote, but he prayes and believes and practises all truely by heart: Notwithstanding, he never forgets his Mother, nor neglects to Honour her with his Life and Substance. He is alwaies more ready to take her Directions for the Forme and Method of all his duties, then to be Dis∣ciplined by all those Chatting Dry-nurses which are so busy about him, such as indeed have talk enough, but (alas) no Milke; whose whole businesse is indeed to make him undutifull to his own mother, and to set light by all her Councells and Commands: perswading him to believe that a true Child

of God, not subject to a Mother in any thing; And they never show their venemous teeth more plainly, then when they goe about to make him forget what this Mother of all Christians by a strict Command from her Dearest Lord has ever been most carefull to teach all her children, to say—OUR FATHER.

He goes not to Church to save his Credit or his Purse, to see his friend or speak with his Tenent, but to meet his Heavenly Father, and Commune with his God, and to take Di∣rections from him how to behave himselfe the following week or Day. When he is there, he makes his heart accompany his tongue, and his Eare keep time with the Preacher. Every Morning and Evening, like a Dutifull sonne, he in private Con∣fesseth his faults, and begs his Father's pardon and blessing; and for the better ordering of his following duties, reads over with Care and Humility some part of those Directions, which he had long since Commanded his servants to set down in writing for his use.

He chuseth his Religion, not by it's Com∣monnesse but it's truth: and often weighs each

branch of it in the Balance of the Sanctuary, that he may be sure it is full weight. He takes it not up by votes, nor (as it is most evident too many do) thrusts his hand at all peradventure into an Hat-full of Lots, being content with whatever he hits on first; for should he goe the first way to work, he knowes, he should be sure to have, not whats Best and Soundest, but the Easiest, and most Gainfull; if the later, it is an hundred to one that he shall draw a blank, and be made an Atheist for his labour. Here he dares not by any means follow or embrace what's most in Fashion, for that ('tis clear) is Hipo∣cricy the cunning Sister of Atheisme, or Atheisme shamed or frighted into conformity; but he professes that which is most Ancient, for that (he may be sure) will at last be found most true.

His Religion is not such a Young, Light and Wanton Girle, as pleases the vain Phan∣cy of every giddy Interested professor; but such a Grave Matron whose naturall Beauty, and Constancy, the Gray-hairs of Prudence and Sobriety, have ever judged to be truly Venerable, and most deserving of the Chri∣stian's embraces. This is that worthy Lady,

which he dayly Courts, to make her the Mi∣stresse and Protectresse of his Soul, and she it is alone that can give him a breeding fit for Heaven.

He showes how freely he can goe on in the, wayes of Godlinesse without a Spurre; and how base a thing it is and unbecoming his Quality to be driven into Heaven by force. By his hast and cheerfulnesse in his race, he evidences his sense of the Worth of what he aimes at; And by his egernesse in the pursuit of another world, endeavours to confute the folly of those, who would lin∣ger out an eternity (were it possible) a∣mongst the Onyons and Fleshpots of this Ae∣gypt. As he was borne a man, so he had his Inheritance upon Earth; but as he is New-borne a Christian, he leaves this trash to the Prodigall younger Brother, expecting a Possession durable in the Heavens.

He feares as little the names of Precise and zealous, wherewith the Divell in the Mouths of his Disciples, thinks to fright him out of all Holinesse; as they understand them, who thus too frequently abuse them. That Boysterous breath which the prophane world sends forth to deride and Crosse him in his

intended voyage, he, like a skilfull Pilote so orders by the right Composing of his Sayles, that he makes that his greatest advantage and furtherance, which was intended for his ruine. He can go to Heaven with any wind and with any Name, where he is so sure to meet with a title of Honour, a name written in the book of life, even the Honour of all his Saints. He cannot Phancy that to be any debasement of his spirit, which car∣ries him out upon so High and Noble at∣chievements; but thinks it an Happinesse to goe into Canaan, though it be through a Red sea, and a rude Wildernesse; whilest o∣thers (alas) feed so greedily upon the Quailes, that they never say grace, but in a murmuring, that they have not more and better cheer; He feeds more upon his hopes, then his enjoyments, and blesses his God for both.

And now this Religion, which he has thus wisely espoused, and entirely loves, he dares not prostitute to Interest or Humour: But as any man accounts the enjoyment of one thing which he principally loves, enough to recompence him for all that he has been constrain'd to part with in his pursuit after

it: so the Religious Gentleman can freely part with both Humour and Interest, with all he enjoyes, and all he hopes for here, for his Religion's sake, being sure to find them all again hereafter, in the fruition of Her, whom he so sincerely loves. Like a Prudent lover, he removes all occasions of Iealousy from his beloved; His Religion shall never have cause to fear, that either his Pleasure or his Honour, or his Profit, shall gaine so much upon his affections, as to become her Rivall.