THE Sincere Penitent: A DIALOGUE Between Philotheus and Philocosmus.  O mihi praeteritos referet si Jupiter annos! 
By a young Gentleman.  
Printed at Dublin, and Reprinted at London, and sold by J. nut, near Stationers Hall, 1699.   

TO THE READER.  
THE following Treatise was the real Result of my Soul, and my sincere Thoughts digested into Method; I choose the way of Dialogue, as being the most pleasing to the Reader, for men should enticed to their Duty by all lawful means: I have published it on no other score but hoping it may do some Good, and if you red it as Seriously as I Wrote it, I hope I shall not fail of my wished Expectations: For if the World reaps any Benefit by my poor Endeavours, the whole aim I proposed is answered to your  
real Friend, and Well-wisher,   

To the Right Honourable WILLIAM Lord Viscount MOUNTJOY.  
My Lord,  
MY Obligations to Your Lordship are many, and great, and this Poor Return is all I have to offer: Gratitude obliges me to aclowledge my Debts, that it may appear I have( at least) the Will, if it should ever be in my Power to make any Restitution. In the mean time this is the way those who appear in Print take of Paying their Debts, and I my Lord, being as great a Bankrupt as others, follow their Method. The following Papers which I Dedicate to Your Lordships Protection would be rather an Affront, than an Acknowledgement, were not Your Lordship's real Value for Religion sufficiently known to all: Your Family has been Famous, tho' Unfortunate in the Bravest of Quarrels, where your Religion, your Laws and Country stood in need of Your Assistance. Go on( Great Sir) and may Your Glories and Honours increase till I should wish the Growing Flood to ebb, which shall not be till the sum of Your Bliss and Glory be complete in an Eternal and Happy World. The consummation of which, shall ever be the Prayer of  
My Lord, your Lordship's Most obliged Humble Servant, Philotheus.   

THE Sincere Penitent.  Philocosmus. 
WELL met my dear Philotheus: It is almost an Age since last I saw you, and now you're so strangely altered, that at first, I scarcely knew you: What's the occasion of this change? where's all that gaiety and Mirth which used to dwell upon your pleasant Brow? Where's the alluring Mein? The taking Smiles? Where the Fine Dress? And all the other Winning Arts with which you gained the Ladies good esteem? Sure some strange misfortune has befallen you, which has occasioned this unexpected metamorphosis.  Philotheus. 
No Philocosme, The best, the greatest, chiefest Happiness, Heaven can bestow, or man enjoy, is the reason of what you call a metamorphosis.  Philocos. 
And is it thus you thank kind Heaven for the Blessing; For shane, cast off those melancholy looks, assume your wonted Jollity, and let us to the Tavern, and there over a cheerful Bottle give the Gods thanks for their Favours.  Philothe. 
Softly Philocosme, and I'll show you, how much you are mistaken in both points; for neither am I melancholy, nor is a Tavern, and a Bottle fit returns to Heaven for his mercies: What, because I am not mad, must I therefore be melancholy? Will you allow no medium? Because my Dress is not true Beaux, my Gate affencted, my Talk and Laughter loud, and extravagant, must I therefore be melancholy? You're very Hetrodox in your Opinion, for it is the Sober, virtuous Man, who is the truly cheerful, and merry man, his happiness is real, his Joys are perfect, whilst the Airy, Lewd, Debauchee( whom the World calls the man of Wit, and Pleasures) who knows how to use the Blessings of this Life, wilfully studies how to make himself uncapable of relishing any Happiness. He makes that very punishment which the Hollanders inflict on Criminals, and is called the Dutch Beverage, his chief delight, thô cropsick next morning he curses the last nights debauch, damns the Company who Revel'd with him, and for a day or two condemns himself to Penitential Small-Beer. And is this the way to live happily? I would sooner be damned to linger out my wretched life, chained to an Oar on board a Spanish Galley.  Philocos. 
And yet Philotheus, this was the very life you lead for some years, nay you were one of the Topping Extravagants, and striven with eagerness to Outdo your lazy Comrades. You were the Chiefest Champion for it, cursed all Morals, and the Plodding Fools who taught them first, called all a Trick, a mere Design of old, envious Dotards, who being by Age and Impotence deprived of the possibility of enjoyment, would needs impose those merciless Curbs on the Highmettled Youth.  Philoth. 
Oh! 'tis too true.  Philocos. 
Why that Sigh?  Philothe. 
It is a tribute justly paid to the remembrance of my former Follies. Bu● Oh! my friend, could I recall those misspent hours, and live those days again nor Thought, nor Word, nor dead should e're offend my Great and Merciful Creator. But they are fled, fled far beyond my power to reach; but yet sincere Contrition, and Heav'ns mercy will atton● for all.  Philocos. 
You're melancholy mad, and I will bid you farewell; I shall( it may be) in a day or two see you peeping thr● a Gate in Bethlehem.  Philothe. 
Stay: I will not let you go I love my Friend too well, than tame●… suffer him to run blindly on his Rui●… thus. You shall hear me, and if y●… will but hear me impartially, laying a si●… all prejudice, I'm confident I'll make Convert of you. 'Tis a gross Error Phi●…cosme to call the sober part of Manki●… Hyppocondriacks, for they are so f●… from it, that they follow the Apost●… Rule, and serve their God with Chearf●…ness, they thankfully enjoy the Blessings of this World, and are not more glad when they receive the Gifts, than pleased when gratefully they return Heaven their Heartiest Praises for them: They delight in doing good, which is their duty, and find themselves as quiet and as easy after the performance, as a Bankrupt who has been a long while tormented how to pay his Debts, is pleased when he at last compounds them. They enjoy a happy and a silent peace within their quiet breasts, verifying that of the Prophet: Her ways are ways of pleasantness; and her paths are peace. No rude, and loud all arms of a clamorous and troublesone Conscience disturb their rest, or rack their Souls. In the morning they rise with a sedate and quiet mind, their bodies and their Souls keeping a blessed Harmony, are both alike in Heavenly temper. The Sober man is free from sad Reflections, how he spent the Yesterday; nor is he troubled tacitly to question himself: Have I any Quarrel on my hands? Did I fall, out with any one last night? And in punctilio, am to Fight this morning? And when he cannot recollect himself,( the Fumes of the Entoxicating Wine having hindered the exercise of his Memory) he's forced to ask his Foot-man Questions: Tom, How partend we last night? Who was there all in Company? Had we no Words, &c. Now, for Heavens sake, granting there were no such thing as Religion, or a future World, Is not this a most Unhappy Life? A base condescension to take your Servant's Word, and trust your very Darling Honour in your Foot-man's hands. Such a manner of life Un-mans men, Debases those of the highest Quality, to the meanest and vilest Abjects. A Heathen could say Nobilitas sola est atque unica Virtus. And shall a Christian, who has the hopes and prospect of a Heaven hereafter, added as a Reward for his living well, shall he be out-strip'd by a Heathen, in the Race of virtue? I believe, my Friend, you durst( were your Country, King, or Liberties at Stake) rush boldly midst the thundering War, Fight Valiantly under your princes Banner for the preservation of those Dear Pledges, and by your Daring, shun the hated name of Coward; Why will you then prove less Valiant under a more Glorious Banner? Why not as brave a Soldier in a Holy War, where the Prizes are much more Valuable? Eternal Bliss, is the Conquering Heroe's great Reward, but Everlasting Wo the just Punishment of the Coward and traitor.  
Those I have mentioned are some few of the many Inconveniences which attend the Dear Delights of keeping( what you call) good Company. But since my Design is only to awaken you; I shall no longer insist on this Head, believing I have already painted that 'vice in its Lively colours: I desire now to know if still you think a Tavern and a Bottle, fit Returns to Indulgent Heaven for the dispensation of his Mercies?  Philocos. 
No: my Philotheus thou has ●… wakened me, thou hast dealt with me ●… s a Skilful Surgeon do's with a timorous Patient; with wary caution you have searched my Wound, and healed it without hurting me: You took not those violent courses, which instead of Reforming, harden men the more. But I had almost forgot, Pray what's that mighty Happiness you have so lately met with? Is it some Rich Relation newly dead, and left you a plentiful Estate?  Philothe. 
No: But my Sins are dead, and left my Soul in peace. A sense of my past Follies hath awakened me, and a sincere Resolution for the future to live a sober and a virtuous life, a steadfast and I hope a lasting Repentance, is the Happiness I have received, and what I reckon the greatest Blessing could have befallen me.  Philocos. 
Tell me, Philotheus, what it was that roused you, and how this change was wrought?  Philothe. 
Frequent, and Wonderful Deliverances from Eminent Dangers, startled me at first, which shocked my Resolution of pursuing the Allurements of this World, and made me consider what I owed to God, and look upon each Mercy, as a Call to mend my life.  Philocos. 
Well, you have indeed obtained your Design upon me, as to that of Drinking, I am, and own myself your Convert. But what say you Friend? Will not you allow me a little innocent freedom with a Pretty Girl? Or grant at least, that the Sin is Venial?  Philothe. 
All Innocent Freedoms are lawful, but I fear by your mentioning a Venial Sin, you mean Fornication, if so avoid it as you would the Plague, or any worse Disease; there's Deadly poison in't. You must not be almost, but altogether a Christian: Men may soothe themselves with Fancies, but sure no Sin without sincere Repentance, will be pardoned, and I do not know any one Crime against which God's Vengeance is more, and frequenter Denounced than this: The Scriptures are full of Woes against the Adulterers and Whoremongers; and foreseing that this Sin would be the Chiefest Allurement with which the Devil can tempt man, has taken all necessary care to forewarn and arm us against it: The Whoremongers and Adulterers God will judge, and again, They shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven: No Unclean thing shall get admittance into the celestial Habitations, and can any thing be more filthy, or unclean than a Whoremonger? And besides the Terrible Judgements denounced in the Scriptures against those who commit the Sin of uncleanness, it has seemed good to the Divine Wisdom and Justice to inflict a very Severe and Dreadful Punishment even in this Life, which tho' it do's not always light upon the Guilty breaker of the Seventh Command, yet it commonly overtakes the hardened Sinner. How many Wretched Examples have we seen of miserable people who infected with the Veneral Plague, have lingered out a miserable Life here in Dismal Agonies, and Fearful Torments, and without the particular mercy of an Indulgent Creator, and the Earnest mediation of a Powerful Advocate, must also Howl Eternally in another World for the Satisfaction of Justice and Expiation of the Sin. What Mischiefs has Lust been the Author and Contriver of? How many murders have been committed on this score? How many States and Kingdoms entirely ruined by nothing but Unbridled Lust? From hence has sprung Incests, parricide and a Train of Woes, which are the constant Attenders of that Sin. The Silly Indians who Barter Gold and Jewels for Glass and Beads, make much a better Bargain, than he who forfeits Eternity for a Moment's Pleasure. Sure nothing but the greatest Stupidity imaginable could be guilty of so gross a Folly? What shall a man profit, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? It is strange, that men that are so wise and crafty in their dealings here, so politic in the Trifling things of this Transitory World, should be such Fools in the great Business of their Souls. It's enough to break a true Christians heart, to see with how much Impudence this Sin is acted he's not reckoned a true Gentleman who has not been Flux'd once, at least, and itis a requisite point of Breeding to understand how to Cure Veneral Distempers, the gentle way of Speaking is thro' the Nose, and our Beauxs brag more of those Wounds they basely got in Venus Wars, than if they had Nobly got them in the Field of Honour, for their Country's sake. Pimping and Pandarism are the ways to the best Preferments, where virtue ought to led the way: But it is as Juvena● says,  
Aude aliquid brevibus Gyaris, vel carcere dignum,  
Si vis esse aliquis, probitas laudatur, & alget●  
I must own indeed that this 'vice is the greatest Temptation the Devil has in his power, the sharpest Weapon he can use against us, therefore we ought to b● the more cautions of ourselves, and striv● more earnestly against it, by the Powe● of the Spirit Subdue the Lusts of the Flesh behave ourselves like Valiant Soldiers in this our Warfare with the World, and like the Noble Christian Youth, who in the Decian Persecution, by the Witty Malice of his Pagan Enemies, was tied with Cords of Silk upon a Bed of Down, placed in a curious Garden, where no Alluring Prospects were wanting, which could heighten, or entice Desires, then a Fair Strumpet tricked up with all her Wanton Arts, came to draw the Vigorous Youth unto her loose Embraces; but he bravely resisted her Attempts, till at the last, finding by her Arts his Blood began to warm, and his Flesh to threaten a Rebellion, he resolutely bit off his Tongue, and spate it in the Harlot's face: Choosing to go into paradise wanting a Tongue, than having one to be cast into hellfire. The Chastity of those primitive Times of Christianity, is very Remarkable: Those Women who were for their Religion condemned to be Prostituted, begged not other Favour of their cruel Judges, but that their virtue being safe, they might be exposed to the Fury of Ravenous lions.  Philocos. 
They were brave Heroiens, I fear there are few of that soft Sex of this Age, would follow their great Example.  Philothe. 
Their shane's the greater; Yet there are some brave Christian Ladies still, who would joyfully run into the could Arms of Death( let him appear in all his Dreadful Forms) rather than yield to the Foul Embraces of an Unlawful Love. The number of these virtuous Women would increase, if all that Sex did but consider the Dangers and mireries which attend the crime, but most of them[ as the Sex is rash and inconsiderate in all they do] are hurried away by the first impulse of their Inclinations; and without ever thinking, obey the whisperings of the Tempter, never call up their Reason, or their virtue to their aid, but yield themselves an easy Prey to Sin and shane. But the Men who Tempt them, have the greatest Guilt: they do the Devil's Drudgery for him, and use all means and ways their Wit can invent, or their Lusts suggest to them; they spare no Oaths, nor Vows, but Invoke Heaven confidently to be a Witness to their Lewdness. Perjury follows, for a Lover looks upon it to be a base thing, if he should keep his Oath. Nay, this is so very common, that the use is crept into a Proverb, and when you would name a Trifle, you bring in the Smile: As frail as Lovers Vows.  Philocos. 
I wonder that young-women do not take warning by the Examples of others, and that the Noted falsehood of Mankind do's not make them altogether Incredulous.  Philothe. 
There are a thousand little things happen in a Love Intreigue, which cannot be expressed, which makes the Conquest easier; but some of the chief Rea●ons of the fond Credulity of Women, I ●ake to be these. First their Pride( of which, every She has her share) which ●akes them think better of themselves, ●han others▪ and believe their Charms are ●ore prevailing, and lasting, and if they have any Instance of a Forsaken Phillis in their mind, they'l urge, it may be, to their Amorous Gallant, and tell him with a Languishing Sigh, After enjoyment you will grow could and careless, and forsake me so. The Lover then has recourse to his Oaths: which Prodigally he pours forth, and wishes all the Horrible Execrations Hell's Malice can invent, may fall upon his perjured Head, if e're he prove Unconconstant, or Unkind: A glittering present is added as confirmation to his Vows; the simplo Girl believes all, takes him for a Man of Honour, or at least so far thinks him a Christian, that he would not venture Damnation by breaking all those Oaths: But she never considers that he who breaks one Command, will keep none; he that Whores, will Swear, nay Forswear too; and if once the Devil makes you fond of one beloved Sin, the breach of all God's Laws will quickly follow, the first Unfortunate Disobedience; Thus the poor Girl believes, consents, and thus at last is ruined.  Philocos. 
I know not what to say, Nature and Youth pled strongly for it. It is none of those Sins which grow upon us by custom and habit, but rather an innate Propensity which increases with our Years, and seems to be as much required by Nature, as Eating or Drinking.  Philothe. 
Oh Friend, I find it is your Darling Sin, and I must root it from your breast, or you are lost. Those are stale Arguments you use, to wheedle yourself into Destruction, and besides your Position is wrong, for no 'vice increases more by custom and habit than this does. You seem tacitly to imply, that it is a Command which cannot be kept: Sure you won't make a Tyrant of your God? And think that the Infinite Goodness, whose beloved Attribute is Mercy, should impose any Laws impossible to be kept upon Mankind. You never striven against the Sin, but on the contrary, have employed the Strength of your Fancy to heighten your supposed Bliss; and when like Daring Ixion, you embraced a Cloud have thought you had your Goddess i● your arms.  
believe me what I say, and try my Recepe, you'l gain a happy and a total Conquest; it is no Frozen hermit who speaks to you, warm, youthful Blood beats lively in my full swollen Veins; you cannot say the Sin left me, before I threw it off: Consider seriously with yourself, and duly weigh what certain Dangers you incu● and all for a Trifle; by just Reflections on the Folly, bring yourself into a loathing of the 'vice. Positively believe, that unavoidable Damnation does attend, and then your Reason will soon determine you, how vast the disproportion is, between fleeting and imaginary Pleasures, and endless and unspeakable Joys. Besides it is the most unaccountable piece of Avarice, to covet the whole Sex: the Law of God and Man allows every man one, and if that man will be but contented( nay, rather believe himself so, for happy he really is.) The Mighty Ottoman is not so blessed, with all his Numerous Train of Beauties, in his Great Seraglio. There True Love, and a Pretty Off-spring Bless the Obedient Husband; each rolling day adds new Comforts to his Happy Life, and having enough, he covets no more. But you perhaps will say, What Generous Soul would be confined to the Dull Clog of Matrimony? Subject to the constant Impertinencies of a Wife: And yet you submit to the Illegal Tyranny of a Strumpet, like a man of a Factious Temper, won't obey your Lawful Prince, but tamely be imposed upon by an Usurper.  Philocos. 
I yield, and own, I'm to my satisfaction vanquished, and yet am Conqueror, tho' overcome.  Philothe. 
There is one 'vice more which is in great Repute with the Gentlemen of the World: A 'vice that is in itself so very Ridiculous, that nothing but its being forbid, could e're have made the World to find it out, and as the Apostle says, He had never known Sin, but by the Law: So it may be asserted, Swearing had never been in such Esteem, had not there been a Prohibition of it.  Gens Humana ruit per vetitum nefas. 
This is a Sin which has neither Profi● nor Pleasure in it; in all other Crimes the Devil makes use of some Bait to cove● his hook, but here he uses man as an Angler does Gudgeons, catch them with a j Hook, knowing their Folly, he thinks them not worth the Cost and Trouble o● a Bait. Certainly none but idiots an● Naturals( one would think) could b● guilty of this 'vice, and yet we see me● in other things of tolerable parts, wh● have good Education strangely besotte● with this Sin, and can hardly speak bu● they must lard their Sentences, and ta● their Discourses with an Oath or two. shall not longer dwell upon a Subject 〈…〉 unworthy, nor trouble myself any farth●… to expose a 'vice, which has no Plea for self: But shall next tell you, I could wi●… that game were either quiet left off, at least limited; For tho' I cannot say is either malum in se, or malum prohibitum, yet it has frequently very Dismal Consequences; many Estates are ruined, whole Families reduced, even to beggary; several murders committed on this score, and game always did, and, whilst it's countenanced always will, maintain a parcel of Sharping Rooks, who if deprived of this shelter, might be Serviceable to the public.  
There are other Vices which not less than these are mentioned, deserve a severe Censure, but they are Sins of such a Nature, that our Gentry do not only shun them, but are much ashamed, if in an Age, a man who has had a Liberal Education, should be found a Delinquent; such are Theft, Lying, Back-biting, and the like. And besides, none pretend to Justify these Crimes; they have no Advocates, but are allowed by all to be Sins. Since then, the Men of Quality and Rank blushy at these Crimes, In the Name of God, let them consider, and be as much ashamed of their other Vices, for they are near allied, and either the one, or the other Rank of them, makes them alike the Devils Slaves; and if they drag his Chains, it is no matter how they put them on.  Philocos. 
Enough, my Dear Deliverer; I am convinced, and will reform, I will henceforth shake off those Cursed Fetters which have Wranckled my poor Soul: Thou hast made me sensible of a burden which sits heavy on me now, thô I before felt not its dangerous Weight.  Philothe. 
You must get rid of it my Friend, and speedily, least the Load depress the mounting of your Sublimer Thoughts.  Philocos. 
I will; if Prayers and Tears Offended Heaven can move, if a sincere Contrition can atone and expiate my Crimes.  Philothe. 
Heaven is all Goodness, and never yet shut up his Bowels of Compassion to the Truly Penitent: red the Scriptures carefully, where you will find all the Comfort you can hope for. No Father e're used his First-born with more Tenderness, than Heaven does the returning Sinner. Christ invites him to come unto him, with all the Endearing Expressions a Heavenly Love can use: Nay, tells you, that all the Heavenly Choire rejoice at a Sinner's Conversion; and the Holy Angels are interested in your Happy Change. And as Despair is the most accursed state which any Miserable Wretch can fall into, so the Sacred Writ has taken a peculiar tender care, that man should avoid that dismal condition: And has not only by Exhortations invited the Sinner to Repent, that he may be Forgiven, but has also given us several Instances of Notorious Sinners who have by their Repentance become very Dear to God. It was the Penitence of David which ob●ain'd him the Holy Writ's Testimony, that he was a Man after God's own heart. Mary Magdalen, from a Vile Sinner, became a happy Saint. And Persecuting Saul, a Preaching Paul; and suffered a Glorious Martyrdom, as a Witness for the Truth of that very Faith which he before had so Zealously Persecuted. Our Blessed Saviour prayed for his Persecutors; which Glorious Example, his Martyrs afterwards followed, saying, O Lord, lay not this Sin to their charge. And doubtless, as many o● them as repented, were forgiven. Nay if Judas himself, who betrayed his Lord and Master, had received the Grace o● Repentance, he would have found also th● benefit of a Pardon: If he had acted like St. Peter[ who after he had denied hi● Master] went immediately out and wept The mercy of Indulgent Heaven to th● Sincerely Penitent is a Theme of that vas● extent, that it would take a longer tim● than our present Opportunity can admi● of, to handle every Particular: And presume I have already said enough, t● make you hope for Pardon, and believ● that your sincere Contrition will mee● with Heaven's assisting Grace to forwar● you in the great Work of your salvation.  Philocos. 
Your Words are full of Comfort; you have brought back my Wandring Reason to my aid; you have snatched me from the gaping Jaws of a near and threatening Destruction, and placed me on a Hill of Safety, furnishing me with Weapons fit for my defence.  Philothe. 
Make use of them, and you shall overcome: Your Foe is no Brave Enemy; if you press briskly forward, he soon will flee before your bold Attempts; for he only pursues the Coward and Dastard: This is a Warfare in which every Resolute man is sure of Victory, and of the Glorious Rewards which attend his Conquest.  
Speak; Are you resolved?  Philocos. 
I am: But e're I enter the Lists, as a Soldier of Christ's, I'll lay down the Accoutrements of my former General. Now therefore farewell: A lasting farewell to the World, and all the empty Pleasures with which so long I was enslaved. Methinks I now am free, like some poor Wretch who long has lead a slavish Life in Tunis, or Algiers, and when a 'bout to be Redeemed, Triumphantly h● shakes his long dragged Chains, and leap● with Transport from the ground.  Philothe. 
Trust me, I rejoice to see you man again; before, you only had the Human shape, for the distinguishing Sou● was lost.  Philocos. 
It was: But thanks to Heaven, and thee, 'tis found again.  

Adieu all Vanities, all Lusts adieu:  
heaven, thou'rt my aim, my only hope's in you   
FINIS.