THE COMPLAINT OF A CHRISTIAN SOUL. Containing certain remedies and comforts against the trouble and conflict of Conscience. Newly written in metre. PRINTED AT EDINBURGH BY RObert Charters, Printer to the Kings most Excellent Majesty. M.D.C.X. TO THE MOST NOBLE AND HIS singular good Lord JOHN Earl of MONTROSE Lord Grahame, one of his Majesty's privy Counsel, we wish long life with increase of honour in the fear of the Lord Although, most Noble Lord, I (as one ever mindful of your L. honourable place, and of that duty we all ought thereunto) did not lack a will to have saluted your L. with some fruits of my travels this long time ago: but finding in myself that great want of graces which my Muse should have granted, and not being bold to have presented myself empty into your presence, as also fearing if I had offered any thing that my barbarity and incongruous speech should rather have moved your L. to mislike me for my homeliness, than otherwise to have received me in favour for the same. Yet being long toasted betwixt two extremities, sometimes calling to mind the duty I was bound to, and sometimes remembering how I was always unable (because of my manifold defects) to have satisfied the least point of your worthy desire, have in end thought better to be rude then ungrate, and so much the more because of the excellency of the theme proposed unto me, I must with your favour (although not with such learning as you merit, nor with such holiness as the matter requires) take the boldness as to acquaint your L. mith my small beginning, and to speak a little of this subject concerning a troubled soul, and of the comforts against the conflict of conscience, as a thing prescrived unto me for the time, being in the same agony myself (for my own private content, and to avoid the tediousness of ill employed time) I was persuaded by some who had a great interest to the disposition of my will, to publish this little scroll to the world, that others might reap some profit thereby, and be fortified against the fear and apprehension of the gilt of sin, and certainly the worthiness of the subject moved me to yield the more easily to their desires. Yet knowing that students in their beginning (how worthy so ever) have but a cold welcome in a foreign land without the support and countenance of some great & worthy parsonage, as also fearing my imperfections, in handling this sukiect, might happily blemish the excellency of the work, and give some dstiaste to the curious reader. I have therefore in my boldness directed it to your L. as a patron, hoping ye will rather be a prese to defend my weakness, then to cavil or upon against such tender propositions. For since all that I have done, rather proceeds of love and bounden dewry, than any fantastical toy or desire of renown: I must therefore commit all my slips and ignorances to your L. subsidy, looking rather to be acceptable for my good will, then to be loathed for that quhilk is inlaiking in me, and thought unsavoury for that quhilk in due affection is done. So I have presumed to shrewd both myself and my labours under your L. protection, beseeching you receive these strangers (as you usually do all men) with a gracious and a gentle eye, and to accept of my poor endeavours, as a testimony and a pledge of my humble duty and service: that by your L. honourable acceptance and example, others may be drawn to entertain them kindly, and bid them the better welcome: so shall your L, encourage me to some stronger attempt, and bind me to continue always, promising certemly if mymuse shall afford any better things thereafter, neither shall your person nor your place be forge, but as my taient incresses your L. shall know. MY greatest reverence is not half my dew, For more nor all my worth thy worth requires: By my attempt I wish there might ensue But some contentment to thy high desires: And as before the Sun no darkness bides, Thy Sunny eyes my imperfections hides. Virtue quhilk dwells into the inward thought, Makes good the seed what ever be the smell: The outward gloss some time doth seem but nought, Quhill as the inward stuff doth much excel: Gold though not find some men do well esteem, I rather love to be then so to seem. Your Lordship's humble orator in Christ M. George Muschet. THE PREFACE. AS it is a great happiness to i'll all vicious extremes, and to hold a commend able mediocrity: so it is a misery quhilk we cannot sufficiently lament, to see (in their latter days amongst men quhilk make profession to believe in a better life) some who have so sold themself to the love of this world that they seek not for an uther, and some who are so violently carried away with the fear and apprehension of Death, so that upon any show of alteration in their health there is nothing to be heard bot strange sighs and groans, the witnesses of abject thoughts, and the unworthy contesting of a soul that would dispute with God. The remedies against so great mischiefs are very necessary: and I hope this treatise following will furnish somewhat for the purpose (gathered not in the bogs and mures of human wisdom, but in the garden of life) quhilk is the Scriptures of the Prophets and Apostles of the everliving God: The savoury juice of the quhilk remedies digested in our souls, will make us neither be too much rejoisd with the pleasures of this world, neither too much feared to pass out of this world, but that with a holy care, a vigilant fear, and a filial reverence, we shall have the eyes of our souls and ears of our hearts open to the voice of the Lord, crying to all mankind, Sons of men return, yea it would cure us of that lethargy, palsy, and spiritual apoplexy, wherewith so many poor souls are daily infected, quhilk never thinking of death are dead living, or rather are as the dead quhilk bury the dead, noknowing what the kingdom of God is, neither having any care to be of it, or to procure or advance it. This juice will free us from that fear quhilk congeils our spirits, and from that frenzy quhilk makes us doubt of our saife delivery, and from that spiritual melancholy quhilk subverts all true judgement in us, and thrusts us (as it were) in a brutish childishness, estranging us from these things quhilk should cause most joy and consolation in us. This present collection is the box containing the precious oil the quhilk being carefully digested by you will (I hope) produce some profitable effect. Bot to give you some greater taste of the samen, and to show the sum or this little scroll. In their few & unadvised lines, there is briefly (or as it were) in a certain a bridgment set down two things, the one is the vehement calamity quhilk proceeds not from a sleeping soul, but from the feeling disease and excessive trouble of a wakened conscience, not only accused but convicted of her pursuers, and brought to the strait, farther nor the scaffold, even almost to the door of the grave, by the remembrance of sin. In the other part there is adjoind, although not separately by itself but mixedly through the whole, some special remedies for the most diseased soul, and some medicens equivalent for the farrest dijected conscience, and some salves very necessary for that spirituail palsy, quhilk if it be rightly applied, will not only banish all present fear of death, but even that quhilk no other Physic can afford, it will furnish perpetual health to the soul, and leave the mind so at ease, that no inconvenient (how great so ever) shall be able hereafter to tie the man to the bed. This is the sum Christian Reader, and albeit it be not so ripely digested, nor uttered with such grace, as he ought to have who lets any thing go from him to the censure of this age: yet impudency hes so prevailde with me for the time, and a care to do good with my small talon, did so continually push my lukles muse that I could find no rest in silence. But as Michall did laugh when David did dance, so I know some michal's will scorn at my singing, and yet I hope otherways to be welcomed of some, for if any good Davids be in this land there I shall be harboured, because this is a song whereat david's should be delighted. So not caring for michal's taunting, nor Rabschek as railings, nor Ischmaels' scoffs, because it is not with such I crave to be merry, neither with them to communicate our spiritual melody, to the well effected Christian (who gives lodging to the Hebrew haps, and who entertains the musical instruments of Zion) I direct this Ballad, to be set upon their strings, to be played in their Palaces, and to be sung in their Inns, knowing this one that if the pleasantness do not delight you, the longsomeness shall not weary you. And if all be not so well ordered, as you merit (worthy Reader) nor so Poeticallie composed as the writer would wish, let my want be countervailed by my good will, and when better things shall be offered, you shall not lack. Fair well. THE COMPLAINT OF A CHRISTIAN SOUL. Would God I had such access to thy face, As of before when I thy favour found: Would God my soul were so endued with grace, That I might live as thy word doth command. Then should my life for ever preach thy praise, My lips should found thy mercies manifold: Much should I scorn for to be one of these, Whom Satan sin death, hell or worldlings would. But ah, my wits can not so far aspire, My senseless heart is ever hardened so: That while thy spirit in me should have empire, Sin reigns to death, Rom. 6. that all my weils do go. Thus ere I live▪ I rather choose to die, And die I dare not for my great trespass: Except in death thy son should pi●●e me, And wash my soul while it be clean as glass. Psal. 51. sins great deceit unto the world is known By old experience and by practice late: And I poor wretch am daily overthrown, And spoiled by sins which conscience doth repeat. Her glittering shades and her allurements strange, Moved me to yield, and did me captive take: And therefore justly may the Lord revenge, To my great grief and everlasting wrack. My great offences if I should express, I know large scrolls could not the same contene: And neither are my privy faults the less, But much more frequent in my life hes been. My false affection and my corrupt will Hath sold my soul to every sort of sin: And this frail flesh conspiring ay my ill Lets suithing fancies all my freedom win. Thus can I never to the heaven's approach, So much infect with every blemish thing: No, no, I have not boldness in so much, Once to behold thy countenance benign. For oh, the vileness of my great trespass Wraps me in chains of dark eternal cair: And I forgot how sweet thy presence was, My lights are dark, my eyes sees life na mair. And so it skills not what my sins have been, I cease t'abridge, much more to find them out: For if my lesser faultiness were seen, I should be odious all the world throughout. Therefore with David I mon rather wine My sins were covered and my slips forget, Psal. 32. That my perverseness and my deeds amiss Quench not the courage that should mercy get. For if thy goodness do deny relief, Fallen are my hopes like widdring leaves to ground: None can express the agony and grief, Which in my conscience daily does abound. For oh, my sins unto the heavens are gone My soul to banish from that pleasant place, Yea, that quhilks more my life is almost done, And wrakt by that perturber of my peace. Though this be much it is not all my we, But here the griefs quhilk do me most annoy, That I remember how my God was so, My light, my love, my life, my hope, my joy. And to have sinned against so fair a face, O it would crush a world of souls in care, And I who lived in sin so long a space, Except thou help must die into despair. But though my lukles life hes ay been such, As did transgress the limits of thy law, Yet my offences are not half so much, But to thy servant thou may mercy show. For none cast off but such as haits thy Name, And none do perish but who dies perverse, None dies to torment but who lives in shame, Bad life brings death, and does all joys disperse. Such am I not, with all my strength I love thee, And my perverseness I sincerely hate: I loathe my sinful life, and longs to prove thee Sweet, kind and gracious to my poor estate. My sins are great, but here my comforts hail, Thou know'st that which I would not, that I do: And yet not I, but my corruptions fail, And thus I'm sinful all the world unto. But oh, my spirit doth sorrow for my sin, Although my fragile flesh be frighted so: My soul doth long to see the days begin, That my affection from the world should go. Jude My former walking I abhor so much, The coat that's spotted with the flesh I hate: Yea I disdain the members made me such, And loathes myself that I was so ingrate. But though I do bewail my sins eachone, And all my crooked ways with tears lament: And though I smart for that great evil that's done, While I sincerely for my sins repent. Yet am I ever troubled and dismayed, Because my God hath hid his gracious face: Satan rejoices that I am afraid, And wills me never look for any grace. Thus am I humbled, but too much cast down, And sees my sins, but in a fearful glass: This sight wills meto th'uncouth land be boon, And such strong charge doth all my strength surpass. Doth thus my God conspire my woe and wrack▪ Or did he not a gracious faviour send? Or doth he only life from me abstract? Or shall I yet have happiness in end? Thy strength is not diminished, I know, Thy arm not shortened to thine own elect: Isai. 8. They taste of Zion's fontaine sweet Siloa, And drinks the brock which from the river breek. Reve. 21. Thou gives them food which from the heavens doth rain Thou'le quench their thirst even with the water of life: Once let me drink, that I thirst not again, And finish quickly all my woe and strife. For thou delights not in a sinner's death. And hast no pleasure wounded souls to kill: No, thou canst not rejoice to stop the breath, Though we be frighted with a world of ill. The dame would not so gladly keep her young, For all the flightring of her feathers fair: The mother's hand is not so softly hung, To save her child of whom she hes great cairo. As thou hast thine outstretched arms abroad For their delivery who regards thy name: No, thou art theirs, and they are thine, o God, And so, though lost, yet thou canst bring them hame▪ Then this that I do ever so bewail, Is not because with thee their is no grace: No, no, it's rather that I am so frail, And hes not eyes to see thy gracious face, For what great comfort can thy grace afford? Or what a joy is it thy mercy brings? Or what a pleasure is thy glory, Lord? If thou withhold from me these precious things. No, it doth seem but to aggredge my pain, To see such plenty and so small to teast: I rather wish my lights were dark again, Or by such sight my life were so oppressed. But let my faith go apprehend thy love. And make my hope assured of thy joys: And let my thirsty soul these mercies prove, Ise loathe the world and all her foolish toys. Then shall I not unto my fancy live, Nor worldlings best contentments longer love Th'earth's fading glory I should not achieve, But ever long eternity to prove. Ester 3. Hamans' preferment I should not respect, Luk, 16. All Dives riches should not once content met I Alexander's kingdoms should reject, And not rejoice though all the world were lent me. But all my thoughts outthrogh the clouds should reik My words above the highest mountains roar: And my delights should be of heaven to speik, My joy to think on that eternal glore. But since my faith is ever weakened so, And all my hopes are shadowed with care: And since thy quickening spirit departs me fro, That living I among the graves repair, How can my thoughts or words to heaven ascend? How can my deing spirits exalt on high? How can my courage in such woe be kend, While it is loadned in perplexity? My life is death if so I live alas, My courage faintness, all my pleasure pain: My rest is tedious, all my health distress, Except some comfort from the heaven do rain. I know thy goodness may asswadge my strife, Though I encounter with these perrelles all: Thy sacred Book shows thou mayest save my life, And keep it harmless both from death and hell. Exod 14 For Israel scaped from that Egyptian host, And eke against proud Pharaoh so prevailde: That horses, chariots, Captains he lost, The rotten reed of Egypt so him failed. 1. Kin. 19 That strong Assyrian army was defeat By heavenly powers of their lives bereft: And Zion's City saved from perils great, And Ashur slaughtered when the siege he left. Young David with the Philistim did fight 1 Sam 19 By that great strength of God and not of man: Saules best coat-armour could not fit him right, By other forces he the battle won. My Pharo, Ashur and Goliath strong Shall take the foil, if yet thy strength thou grant me And I triumph thy holy Courts among, And be victorious when the world shall want me. My pains may cease, my trouble shall departed, And all my inward griefs shall have an end: And I have solace yet for all my smart, If thou shalt mercy to thy servant send. No foreign forces, no domestic foe, Shall once astonish or amaze my mind: Except my heinous treachery do go, And make my Saviour to my soul unkind. Gen. 19 I know my sins may make me lose thy love, Loyttring in Sodom may procure thy hate: Or to look back when from the world I move, May serve to metamorphose my estate, Num, 11. Or to loath Manna and that heavenly food, And long for Egypt's fatness in the plain: May make the fiery serpents be too rude, And sting to death, that we live not again. jonas 1. Or to repine against thy holy will, And go to Tharsis that should Nineue teach: May tossed the silly ship with storms so shill, And cast poor jonah in a fearful ditch. In Sodom, Egypt, Tharsis, nought but woe, Although their dainties do a while delight thee: Their pleasures perish, all their games do go, And sorrowing sadness shall in end requite thee. No, nought in earth but crossed delights is seen, And all her sweetness mixed with bitter gall: For where to day triumph and ball hes been, To morrow mourning oftentimes befall. What shall I then such bad contentments love? Which nought but momentaneall comfort brings: No, no, my soul delights to be above, To see the valour of eternal things. Where there is endless happiness of life, And perfect pleasure for the Saints prepared: Glory but shame and rest withouten strife, As hes the holy Scriptures oft declared. Then these great things should every fancy wisse, For this abiding wealth the world should cair: For it brings life and such perpetual bliss, That Abraham's children needs to wish na mair. Which if my soul were once sure to enjoy, When all this vail of misery is past: No earthly conslict here should me annoy, Because I should possess the heavens at last. But all toil, troubles, contrary change of time, My faith should welcome, and not be afraid: Though cares would blast the blossoms of my prime, That I were find or as in mortar brayed. All should I embrace as tokens of thy love, And I should feed upon thy favour still: My songs of praise should mount to heavens above, While I were fashioned to thine holy will. Then should I always solemnize thy name, For this delivery to thy servant granted: To sing thy mercy this should be my theme, As did the godly who thy Courts hes haunted. On David's Harp oft should my finger strike, Yea David's heart in my breast should be found: That heavenly voice which from my lips should break Most Echo-like among the rocks should sound, No music should but Hebrew songs delight me, Though all the Muses with their mirth were brought: I know the lecherous singer will despite me, But all his sonnets should I set at nought. Good Ezechias to thy house should lead me, With David to the Temple should I pass: And holy Moses through the Courts should guide me, In Zion's songs should be our merriness. But who can sing in such a monstrous grave? Or praise thy name in this infernal place: Who can be glade who doth nor grace receive To see the sweemes of thy heavenly face? Or can his voice be heard in heavens above, Whose soul is crushed in the earth below? Or may my mind be warmed with thy love, While ever frowning thou thyself dost show? Oh raise my soul from such a gulf of care, As thou didst Lazarus body from the grave: Revive my spirits that yet I may repair These pleasant places which the Saints receive. For oh, thou seest my fainting in distress, How no man's torment is so much as mine: And how my pains are so remediless, That though I live, yet in that life I pine, Must this, alas, thy servant needs be gone? That all supporting aid is from him rain: Or shall I die before my days be done? Or shall I live when all these days are gane? If once thy former mercy was so great, When as thou sparedst all the world for one: One may have access to thy mercy's seat, Through all in all who sits upon the Throne. For once he suffered for my great trespass, Once he was offered for the sins of men: In him thy very justice pleased was, Of force thy mercy must remit us then. So all my troubles and afflictions strange Shall not destroy me nor procure my wrack: Because my God he doth not still revenge, But tries his children when he does them strike. The mother doth absent herself a while, From her dear child whom she entirely loveth: And so the infant after this exile, In his affection much more fervent proveth. So though my God from me his face obscure, Yet will he kyith when all these clouds are past: And this disertion shall my soul allure, To love more truly not I loved last. It's not to leave me that my God is 〈◊〉, It's not to kill me that he sends the cross: He doth not strike that I should die anon, But fines the gold by burning of the dross. Since by the furnace our corruption dies, And all our faulty parts are framed of new: And all the trouble that the body sees, Serves but to make it of an heavenly hue. We should not fret to be afflicted much, Since by afflictions we the heaven attain, And none to Canaan ever can approach, But he who in the wilderness hes been. Then though great waters do so oft beset me, That Satan says it's thy extreme disdain, Yet now thy wondrous goodness will not let me, Despair of mercy for a world of pain. But though thou kill me, to thy hand I'll come, And though thou slay me, I shall ever love thee, No chance no change shall so my speech benume, But it shall praise thee as my thoughts do prove thee. Touch, touch my lips, for oh my soul doth long To be anointed with thy heavenly grace, And thus I put a period to my song, Quhill I appear before thy glorious face. M. George Muschet Minister of the evangel at Dunning.