N01010:491
War with the devil, or, The young man's conflict with the powers of darkness,…
War with the devil, or, The young man's conflict with the powers of darkness, in a dialogue discovering the corruption and vanity of youth, the horrible nature of sin, and deplorable condition of fallen man, also, a description of the power and rule of conscience, and the nature of true conversion. : To which is added, an appendix, containing a dialogue between an old apostate and a young professor, worthy the perusal of all, but chiefly intended for the instruction of the younger sort. / By B.K. author of Zion in distress, or The groans of the Protestant church.War with the devil, or, The young man's conflict with the powers of darkness, in a dialogue discovering the corruption and vanity of youth, the horrible nature of sin, and deplorable condition of fallen man, also, a description of the power and rule of conscience, and the nature of true conversion. : To which is added, an appendix, containing a dialogue between an old apostate and a young professor, worthy the perusal of all, but chiefly intended for the instruction of the younger sort. / By B.K. author of Sion in distress, or The groans of the Protestant church.
New York: printed by William Bradford, 1707
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
They murdered not, but such as would […] yield, To own them for their Lords: and in the field ⟨p. 134⟩They slew them too, with weapons in their hand, For their defence, and always ready stand To give Quarter to those that it demand, But this vile Strumpets blood-be-dabbled hands Finds not a period, never countermands Her cruel rage, her murders know no end, She slaughters when she pity doth pretend: Years terminate not her blood-thirsty acts, She slays without examining their facts. In times of Peace her treacherous hands have shed, Blood without measure: she hath murdered By cursed Massacres, her Neighbours, when They thought themselves the most secure of men. One might fill volumes with her bloody story, In which she still persists: Makes it her glory T' invent strange Torments to deprive the breath Of Christians, by a tedious lingering death. The brutish Nero first of Tyrant Kings, From whose base root nine other Tyrants springs, Whose most inhumane Acts, not to their glory, Did leave the world a lamentable story; And to their lasting and eternal shame, Did purchase to themselves that hateful name Of Bloody Monsters in the shape of men, Whose cruel acts deserve an I•on Pen, That might perpetuate to after-times, These Heathens Cruelty; record the Crimes For which these Christians willingly laid down, Their earthly houses for a heavenly Crown. Reflect a while (Sir) and but cast your eye, First on those Heathen Emperors cruelty. ⟨p. 135⟩Then view the bloody Papists, and compare Their Cruelties together, and as far As Egypts Darkness did exceed our Night, Or Midnight differs from the Morning-light, So far the Papist's Cruelty does exceed The worst of Heathen Tyrants, and indeed The worst of Tyrants, since the world began, Or since dissension fell 'twixt man and man. If Cyp•ians and Eusebius words be true, These persecuting Emperors yearly slew Millions of Souls, shedding their guiltless Blood, Which ran like waters from a mighty flood. So void their hearts were of all humane pity, They spared no Age, nor Sex, nor Town, nor City. The things wherein these Christians did offend, Were only this, they did refuse to bend. Their Heaven devoted knees, or fall before Those Idol-Gods th•se Emperors did adore. They did believe One God created all, They did believe in Christ, and down did fall Prostrate upon the Earth, and daily bring Sacrifice only to that Heavenly King.