The YOUNG-MANS Conquest Over the POWERS of DARKNESS. In a DIALOGUE, Between a Virtuous Young-Man, and the Subtile Insinuating Tempter Discovering the Baits of
SATAN, and the Strength of TEMPTATION: With the Christians Fortitude, and only means of Overcoming, which is by Faith in Christ, and unwearied Perseverance.
Necessary to be set up in all Houses.
Eph. 6. chap. 11.
‘Put on the whole Armour of God, that you may withstand the wiles of the Devil.’
The Devil Tempting him to neglect Learning, and to follow Pastime.
The Devil Tempts him to ill company
The Devil Tempteth him with Money, to hinder him in his way to Heaven.
The Devil Shooting his Dart at him, are beat back.
Tempter,
YOungman, well met, but whither in such hast,
Do's fear surprise thee that thou mov'st so fast,
Whither art Running Youth, come prethee tell,
Youngman,
To shun those Crooked Paths that Leads to Hell.
Tempter,
Pish, talk no more of that, but tell me whither
Thou do'st intend, and wee'l go both together.
Youngman,
A pretty motion, when I want a Guide
I'le send for thee, till then thou art deny'd.
T.
Slight not the Courtesie which I have shown,
Such oft mistake the way who go alone,
Thy Feet may slide, shouldst thou my care neglect,
But I will Guide thee, and from harm protect.
Y.
If Heaven will guide my Soul, I shall not stray,
Or fear the danger of a Slipp'
[...]y way.
As for thy offers, I must borrow Leave
To say, such friendship's only to deceive.
T.
Thy serious mind advise, and thou wilt see
My ways are best, be principl'd by me,
'Tis I mistaken Soul, 'tis I alone
That can Conduct thee to the Sublime Throne.
Believe not those that tell thee Babling Stories,
Of Endless, Boundless, unconceived Glories.
Believe me Youth, 'tis I that can Display
The Gospel Colours, better far then They.
I can do more, it lies within my Power
To make thee Poor, or Rich, in half an hour.
I'le make the swell with Riches, thou shalt have.
All that thy Heart can wish, or Tongue can crave,
Come Gentle Soul, into my twining Arm's
I'le hugg thee, I'le delight thee with my Charms.
Y.
Tempter with-draw thy Bates and Snares, and stay
The Progress of thy Tongue, and give me way
That I may vent my thoughts, you having spoke
At large already, and is this the Stroke
Which you intend shall wound me, be Assur'd,
The Blows but small, and may be well Endur'd.
T.
What dost thou think I am perfidious, Eye,
'Tis folly to condemn before you Try.
Alas ! alas ! what profit can Accrue
To me, by wronging such a Youth as you,
I doubt these Weak, these Empty thoughts presage
A Tempest Guarded with a storm of Rage,
Well then Storm on, and when thy Storm is spent,
Sit down and Meditate, and then Repent.
Y.
Repent, O happy word, although Exprest
[...] a foul Mouth, Those that repent are blest.
[...]on falacious wretch, I can not brook
[...]ny Golden baits, I have descry'd thy Hook,
[...]oft thou believe that I can Entertain
Belief from thee, or doest thou think to Reign
Within my Breast, no, no, thy Clowdy Powers
Are at the best but falcifying Showers;
Thou bidst me try, thy ways are so unjust,
That I resolve neither to try nor Trust.
T.
Not try nor Trust, art-thou resolv'd to cross
My real motions, do, and see whose loss
Will prove most Weighty, if I lose the heat
Of thy weak Love, my loss will not be great.
Take my instructions Soul, 'tis I must bring
Content unto thee, 'tis a Glorious thing
To be Immortal, prethee Soul decline
Thy former ways, say, shall I call thee mine.
My Gates are always open, those that venture
To come to me, shall with a welcome Enter.
Y.
'Tis not thy charming tempting Tongue can turn
The Biass of my Soul, or make me spurn
At Holy Writ, 'tis not thy fond conceit
Of being good, shall make me to Retreat
From Heavens Commands, 'tis not thy promis'd joys
Can make me chearful, or thy painted Toys
Can Lure me to thy Fist, 'tis not the Dart
Of thy vain Love can penetrate my Heart.
'Tis not thy greatness that shall make me yield
To thy desires, Religion is my Shield.
I am advis'd to shun the broad path'd ways,
But to believe what Holy Scripture says,
The paths are Strait in which I ought to Run
The Course of Grace, untill my days are done,
And those that change a Vertue for a Vice,
Deserve no Fruit from Heavens blest Paradice.
T.
Urge not the Scriptures, for I dare maintain
My paths are best, all other ways are vain,
Know that my real breast contrives no End
But what may profit thee, be thy own Friend,
Observe my Actions, pry into my parts,
Lets know each other by Exchange of Hearts,
I'le give the mine, and for my sake restore
Thine unto me, grant this I'le ask no more.
Y.
Thou saist thou'rt great and good, if this be true.
I needs must call the Scripture false, or you,
Truth bids me tell thee boldly, when thou cry'st
Thou'rt great, and good, and rich, and rare, thou ly'st,
If thou art great and good, then tell me why,
Thou wilt behold so vile a Wretch as I,
How can it be that thou wilt condescend
To feed my wants that am so mean a Friend;
Strange is that Charity which seems to shine,
From such a Diabolick breast as thine,
I will Implore Heav'ns aid, to keep me still,
From this most Vile Progenitor of Ill;
Lord let him not infould me in his Arms,
Or overcome me with his wanton Charmes,
Be thou my Fort, and then I shall endure,
His furious onsets, and repose secure,
Give me thy Grace, then shall I be Content,
Make me as strong as he is Impudent.
T.
What still refuse to do as I desire,
I'le make my Bellows to Advance the Fire
Of thy distress, and thy perpetual grief
Shall find a Voyce, but ramble from Relief,
I'le gripe thee till I make thee understand
The Fiery Language of my furious hand.
Y.
Do, let the Spring-Tyde of thy fierce desires
Flow to the height, thou shalt not Quench my Fires,
Know,
Tempter know, my Heart reserves no place
For thy Abode, I scorn thee to thy Face.
The well dy'd Colours of my Soul declares
Defiance to thee, and my breast prepares.
To give the Battel, strike, I fear thee not,
Who's Arm'd with Faith, needs fear no Cannon-shot.
T.
What Impious Tongue is that which dares deny
My Power, with so much boldness —
Y.
Wretch 'tis I.
'Tis I infernal Traytor, that will spend
My strength to prove thou art a Flat'ring friend.
T.
Move me to Anger, do, and thou shalt find
A Courteous Friend at last may prove unkind,
Have I not wo'd thee almost night and day
To go to Heaven,
Youngman, The quite contrary way.
T.
Have I not proffered all chat can be given
To a sick Soul —
Young.
To draw my Soul from Heaven.
T.
Did I not promise to be true and Just,
Y.
Did I not say I'de neither try nor Trust,
T.
Did I not promise I would make thee wise,
Y.
Y. Did I not say thou wer't compos'd of Lies,
T.
Did I not promise to Encrease thy store,
Y.
Did I not say such wealth would make me poor,
T.
Did I not promise thee Eternal Glory,
Y.
Did I not say that promise was a Story,
T.
Did I not tell thee I was great and good,
Y.
Did I not Answer, 'twas in Sheding blood,
T.
Thus by fair Terms I Laboured to obtain,
Y.
Thus in fowl Terms I told thee 'twas in vain,
T.
Then I began to Threaten thee with Grief,
Y.
And then I fled to Heav'n and found Relief.
T.
Then here I'le leave thee to the Lawless power
Of thy own passion, cursed be the hour
That brought thee forth, if all this will not do,
May all Men curse thee, and I'le curse thee too.
Y.
Begon, begon, but stay, hark
Satan hark,
Boast, thou hast shot, though thou didst miss thy mark,
T.
Why dost thou bid me go, I hope thy words
Are such as mine, which only Jests affords.
Smile on me then, and chearfully Impart,
The loving Childings of a tender Heart.
Y.
Thou great Corrupter of Diviner parts,
Thou watchful Thief that steals into the Hearts
Of silly Mortals, think not to devour
My Armed heart, with thy pursuing power.
T.
Will nothing move thee, wilt thou still mistrust
If fair means will not move thee, foul means must.
Y.
I fear thee not, because I know thy power
Is Limited, and thou canst not devour
Without Commission, therefore do thy worst,
And let thy Envy swell untill it burst.
If words could kill, I had been e're this time
Worded to Death, but now I hope to Clime
Above the Reach of Words, in thy despite,
Where thou maist Grumble at me, but not bite.
If thou art God, as thou pretends to be,
Why dost thou suffer such a thing as me
T' expostulate so long, and dost not show
Thy Judgments in my speedy overthrow.
T.
It is my goodness, and not thy, desert
That breads forbearance in my tender Heart;
Alas ! alas! What Honour would Accrue
To me in Conquering such a thing as you.
Y.
Thy Threats nor feign'd expressions cannot move
My Heart from God, nor nothing make me Love;
Thy wretched self, then be content and cease.
To Urge my mind, or interrupt my peace.
Now Gloriou
[...] God, be pleased to Inflame
My Heart with Raptures, to Exrol thy Name,
Lord, I am weak, and if thou shouldst deny
To, give me Strength, how weak a thing am I,
Wean me, O wean me, from this Nursing Earth,
Make it my Sorrow, and thy Throne my Mirth;
When I am Tempted, make me understand,
Thou hast a Storming and a Calming Hand;
Then shall my Ready Lips Express, and show
I know no more then thou wouldst have me know;
My unty'd Tongue shall evermore Proclaim
Exalted Praises to thy Holy Name.
FINIS.
LONDON, Printed for J. Coniers at the Black-Raven in Duck-Lane.