, published in 1791. Speaking
of certain ranting preachers, he says--"These _devil-dodgers_ happened
to be so very powerful that they soon sent John home, crying out, that
he should be damned."

Admitting the age of the phrase, some will ask, Is it respectable? Well,
that is a matter of taste. Is there any standard of respectability? Does
it not vary with time, place, and circumstance? Some people hate wearing
gloves, while other people feel half naked without them. A box hat is
a great sign of respectability; when a vestryman wears one he overawes
philosophers; yet some men would as soon wear the helmet of Don Quixote.
Flannel suits are quite shocking in town; at the seaside they are the
height of fashion. And as it is with dress so it is with speech. The
"respectable" classes are apt to rob language of its savor, clipping and
trimming it like the trees in a Dutch garden. You must go to the
common, unrespectable classes for racy vigor of tongue. They avoid
circumlocutions, eschew diffuseness, go straight to the point, and
prefer concrete to abstract expressions. They don't speak of a foolish
man, they call him a fool; a cowardly talebearer they call a sneak; and
so on to the end of the chapter. But is this really vulgar? Open your
Shakespeare, or any other dramatic poet, and you will find it is not so.
A look, a gesture, is more expressive than words; and concrete language
carries more weight than the biggest abstractions.

Let us break up the phrase, and see where the "vulgarity" comes
in. There is nothing vulgar about the Devil. He is reputed to be a
highly-accomplished gentleman. Milton, Goethe, and Byron have even felt
his grandeur. And is not "dodger" clear as well as expressive? David
dodged Saul's javelin. That was smart and proper. Afterwards he
attempted a dodge on Uriah. That was mean and dirty. So that "dodge" may
be good, bad, or indifferent, like "man" or "woman." There is nothing
objectionable about it _per se_. And if "devil" and "dodger" are
respectable in their single state, how do they become vulgar when they
are married?

Of course it is quite natural for the clergy and their thorough-paced
dupes to cry out against plain language. The clerical trade is founded
on mystery, and "behind every mystery there is a cheat." Calling things
by their right names will always be ugly to impostors.

"Reverend" sounds so much nicer than "mystery-man," "priest" is
more dignified than "fortuneteller," "clergyman"