THE CHARACTER OF AN Ignoramus DOCTOR.  
AN Ignoramus Doctor is a certain Duncical Dolt, who is as much a Doctor, as Osborn's ragged Colt was a Sturgeon. Hang him out, and he may indeed serve for the Sign of one, but has really no more Right to the Habit, than an Algerine to wear Christian Colours: Let's strip therefore his Gown over his Ears, and 'twill quickly appear, what a Monstrous REPRESENTATIVE Beast he is. To begin then with his Noddle; as Dull and Blockish it is as the Beetles. In his Brazen Forehead is writ ABOMINATION. His Fies are Murdering as the Basilisk's; tho' Blindish too as the Batts. With his Screech-Owl's Voice, he bodes Death and Destruction. His Tongue, like the Serpent's, is Forked and Double. His Mouth, with that of the Revelation-Beast, speaks Lies and Blasphemies, and out of it issues Wildfire, in which (tho' others are consumed) the Salamander-Fiend himself, subsists. His Throat is an open Sepulchre, and no Camel was ever so big as to choke him. Like the Fabulous Minotaur, he really lives upon Humane Entrails, and is fed with the Quarters of Sacrificed Men, and glutted with their Blood, the Unchristened Cannibal looks Flush and Ruddy. No Morsel is so Hard and Bloody, but his Ostrich-Stomack can digest it: but to sweeten the Stench of his Carrion-breath, the Savage for Dessert chews Tobacco, and that, till it runs out of his Chaps again like Juice of Toad. With the Egyptian Frogs and Lice, he infests the Royal Palace, creeps into the King's Chambers, and like the Locust and Caterpillar devours his Bread; with which being Farting-full, the Harpy defiles and squirts upon the very Table that feeds him, and as the starving Snake revived, thrusts out his Sting at all that ever relieved him. Yet the Slave, when Hungry, is, as the Dog, I awning and Couchant: When in the least Danger, Timorous, as the Rat; but guarded by his Whifflers the Rabble, as Bold as the Polecat. Lo! some of the Ingredients that go to the Compounding of this Non-such-Sham-Doctor, this Hodgepodge of an Animal, which considered asunder are not only the Worst that can be, but in Him the Worst put together: for Review him as he is an Individuum, you will find him the Only One of a strange Species never heard of before, for certainly nothing that ever yet breathed is like him.  
The Monster was begot (as some will have it) by the Giant Typhon, in the shape of a Broken Tub-preaching Weaver, upon the Body of the foul Viper Echidna; tho', others say, he sprung out of a Dunghill, of which in truth, he is the very Purging and Off-scouring. From the very time he could crawl, he lived always on Wash, Greasy Trenchers, and Arse-guts; still Needy, Naked, and Noisome, as when he dropped from his Dam Unlicked, and with all his Original Filth about him. His Breeding is as obscure as his Birth, tho' we find that when he came to the Age of 30 he went to School; to get (as some thought) a little smattering in Latin, tho' really it was a Pretence to beg Bread. Nor was it long before the Younger Fry smelled him out, so that every little hop-o'-my-thumb made him a May-game: Some would kick him, some grub, and tweak him by the Beard; others would fillip at his Nose; and every one had a fling at him, till finding him still the same Idle Troublesom Drone. they by common consent quickly chased him away for altogether. But wherever he went, he was still the Vomit and Nuisance of the Place, nay the Grievance of the very Scavengers themselves: In his own Defence therefore, was always forced to be a Runagate and Vagabond. Beggary and Hunger still pursuing him, Satan at last, by the Temptation of Fatness and Plenty, entered into him; and from that time, the Staruling made himself over, and contracted to become the First Son of Belial, the Sans-pareil Swearer, Hell's Narrative-Hawker, and the Devil's Affidavit-Drudge: In consideration of which, he was promised three or four Dishes a Meal; that he should (like Dr. Faustus) fly over the World, Unseen; and converse Invisibly with Grandees at Rome, Paris, Madrid, Salamanca, and most of the chief Cities upon Earth, nay should be in several places at one time; That he should have the pleasure of frighting Thousands out of their Wits, with Armies in the Air, and under Ground, and by Swearing, to make 'em believe what he pleased; That Tom Thumb slew the two Giants Amarant and Colbron, and that the seven Champions Armed with Black-Bills and Mustard-Balls, were Listed to invade Property, and set up Popery; nay, and that in his own Favour, he should make Black be called White; Nonsense, Sense; Lies, Truth; Sauciness, Good-Manners; and Buggery, Chastity. That in all these his Adventures, he should have the Assistance of his Familiars, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Ashteroth; and that, whatever mischief he did, he should, like ●ain, have a Mark on him, (for a time at least) that no body should have power to kill him.  
All this the Caitiff has, in some measure, seen fulfilled; and being in a kind of Ecstasy, by the seeming good luck of his Foolhardy Villainies, he blunders on, seems to pass away his Time well enough, Eats and Drinks like a Swine; has two or three Catchpole like Porkers to attend him, whose Posteriors he often taws, or (as Mother Creswel terms it) Hogg's; and when he has raised his own Beastly Concupiscence, Tilts at 'em with his Nasty Clyster-Pipe. He puts the thoughts of his last Execution-day far from him; yet at present, LIES, Swears, and Blasphemes, as if he were already plunged in his Infernal Flames. SO HELP ME GOD, is the only Prayer he has power to make; nor that neither, but when he rams down a Lie with a Deadly Oath, which is his new Whiggish Phrase, and Equivalent to GOD DAM, in earnest: And in truth the Wretch is but just qualified to receive the Damnation, he seems predestinated himself to pray for; having no more Rationality, than serves to put him out of the Rank of down right Brutes; and that only, that he might not be so Happy as the Beast that perishes.  
Behold! the Engine-Idol which the Mobile once admired, as the Egyptians did Stinking Garlic, Dogs, and Crocodiles! The Will-o'th'-Wisp, who with False Fires led them into Quagmites and Ditches! Who with his Hurrican Contradictory Breath turned all things, as 'twere, Topsy-turvy, to a Miracle! for being in Himself an Object too vile for the Dogs to piss upon, every Effect, of which he seems the Instrument, is really a Miracle; and shows how poor a Tool Providence can work with, nay, is enough to convince an unbeliever, that a whole World may be made out of Nothing. But the Changeling all this while, (tho' less than the pitiful Fly on the Cartwheel) fancies he makes all the Rumbling, and like the Cracked brain Groom, conceits himself an Emperor. And so Pampered and Ireakish is he grown, that now he will neither lead nor drive, but kicks and flings at the very Jockeys who first rid him, and having broke his Halter, hurries on in his own Broad-way; But being come almost to his Journeys end, let him take his Swing, and so we bid him Adieu; for like a true Bromigham Beggar on Horseback, he is really posting Tantivy to the Devil.   
FINIS.  

LONDON: Printed by M.T. 1681.