Of the Hour of Death.
THIS DAY (WHEN THOU HAST MADE THE SIGN OF THE CROSS, and prepared thyself hereunto,) thou hast to meditate upon the hour of death: which is one of the most profitable considerations, that a Christian man may have, as well for the obtaining of true wisdom, and eschewing of sin: as also to move him to begin to prepare himself in time for the hour of death.
But to the intent that this consideration may be profitable unto thee, it shall behoove thee to make thy petition unto almighty God, beseeching him to grant thee some feeling of such things as are wont to pass in this last conflict: that thou mayest dispose of thy lands, and goods accordingly, and direct thy life in such sort, as at that time thou wouldst wish thou hadst done. Now therefore that thou mayest have the better feeling in this matter, think upon it, not as thou wouldst of a thing that were to come, but as it were even now present: and think upon it, not as of a thing, that appertaineth to others, but as of a thing that belongeth properly to thine own self, making this accompt, that thou liest now very sickly and weak in thy bed, and in such a dangerous case, that thou art utterly forsaken of thy physicians, and that they are all persuaded, that thou wilt die within a few hours.
Consider now first, how uncertain that hour is, in which death will assault thee. For thou knowest not, neither what day, nor in what place, nor how thou shalt be disposed when death shall come unto thee. Only this thou knowest for most certain, that die thou shalt: all the rest is uncertain, saving that ordinarily this hour is wont to steal upon us at such a time, as a man is most careless, and thinketh least of it.
Secondly, consider what a separation shall then be made, not only between us and all the things we love in this world, but also even between the soul, and the body, which have been such ancient, and loving companions. If it be thought so grievous a matter, to be banished out of our native country, and from the natural air in which a man hath been bred, and brought up, although the banished man might carry away with him whatsoever he loveth: how much more grievous then shall that universal banishment be from all things that we have, from our lands, from our goods, from our house, from wife, father, mother, children, kinsfolk, friends, and acquaintance, from this light, and common air, yea (to be short) from all things of this world? If an ox make so great a bellowing at what time he is separated from an other ox, with whom he hath been used to be yoked, and to draw in the plough: what a bellowing will thy heart then make, when death shall separate thee form all those things, wherewith thou hast been yoked, and carried the burthens of this life?
Consider also, what a grievous pain it shall then be to a man, when a certain representation shall be made unto his mind foreshewing in what case his body and soul shall be after his death. For as touching the body, he knoweth for certain already, that though it hath been heretofore neversomuch cherished, and honored, yet there shall no better provision be made for it, but only a hole seven foot long, where it shall remain in company of other dead bodies. But as concerning he soul, he knoweth not certainly what shall become of it, nor what lot shall fall unto it. For although the hope which he hath in the mercy of almighty God may strengthen and comfort him: yet the consideration of his own sins may dismay him, and make him afraid: especially if he consider withal the great justice of almighty God, and the profoundness of his judgements, who useth often times to cross his hands, and to alter the lots of men. The thief went up from the cross to paradise: and Judas fell down from the honorable dignity of Apostleship into hell fire. Manasses also after his so many abominations, and wickedness, obtained grace to become repentant: And as yet we know not whether Salomon obtained the like for all his virtues. This is one of the greatest griefs, and anguishes, that men are commonly troubled withal at the hour of death: to understand, that there is to ensue glory everlasting, and pain everlasting and that then a man is so near both unto the one, and to the other, and yet knoweth not whether of these two lots being so far different as they are, shall fall unto his share.
After this anguish there followeth an other no less than this: to wit: the particular accompt of all our whole life, which at the very hour of every mans death must be made unto almighty God. This accompt is so dreadful, that it causeth even the most stoutest men that are to tremble and quake for very fear. It is written of the famous holy father Arsenius, that being at the point of death he began to be afraid, whereat his scholars marveled, and said unto him: What father, are you now afraid of your accompt? Unto whom he answered: yea yea my sons, this fear is no new thing in me: for I have always lived with the same. At that time all the sins of a mans former life are represented unto him, like a squadron of enemies ready set in battle array to assault him. Then are the greatest sins and those wherein he hath taken greatest delight represented most lively unto him, and are the cause of greater fear: Then cometh the young virgin to his mind, which he hath dishonored: Then come the maids, and household servants, whom he hath solicited and provoked to lewdness: Then come the poor folks whom he hath injured, and evil entreated: Then come his neighbors whom he hath offended: Then shall there cry out against him, not the blood of Abel, but the precious blood of our Savior Jesus Christ, which he shed, when he gave scandal and offence to his neighbor. And if his cause must be judged according to the law, that saith: Eye, for eye: tooth, for tooth: and wound, for wound: what shall he look for, that by his evil counsel or lewd example hath been the occasion of the loss of a Christian soul, if he be judged by that law? O how bitter shall the remembrance of the delights and pleasures past be at that time unto him, which at other times seemed so sweet? Undoubtedly the Wiseman had very good cause to say: Look not upon the wine when it is red, and when it sheweth his colour in the glass: for although at the time of drinking it seem delectable, yet at the end it will bite like a serpent, and poison like a cockatrice. O that men would understand how true a saying this is, that we have here rehearsed! What serpents sting is there that doth so prick and vex a man, as the dreadful remembrance of his pleasures past shall do at the hour of his death? These are the dregs of that poisoned cup of the enemy. These be the leavings of the cup of Babylon, that seemeth so gayly gilted in outward appearance.
After this there followeth the Sacrament of Confession, the blessed Sacrament of the Altar, and last of all the Sacrament of extreme Unction, which is the last succor and relief that our mother the Catholic Church may help us withal in that troublesome time. And as well herein, as in the other things, thou hast to consider what great grief and anguish of mind the sick person shall then abide in calling to mind his wicked and sinful life: and how gladly he wisheth at that time that he had taken a better way: and what an austere kind of life he would then determine to lead, if he might have time to do the same: and how fain he would then enforce himself to call upon almighty God, and to desire him of help, and succor. Howbeit the very pain, grief, and continual increasing of his sickness and death will scarcely permit him so to do.
Consider then also those last accidents, and pangs of the sickness, (which be as it were the messengers of death) how fearful and terrible they be. How at that time the sick mans breast panteth: his voice waxeth hoarse: his feet begin to die: his knees wax cold, and stiff: his nostrils run out: his eyes sink into his head: his countenance looketh pale, and wane: his tongue faltereth, and is not able to do his office: finally, by reason of the haste of the departure away of the soul out of the body, all his senses are sore vexed, and troubled, and do utterly leese their force, and virtue.
But above all, the soul is then in most pain, and suffereth greatest griefs, and troubles. For at that time she is in a very great conflict, and agony: partly for her departure from the body: and partly for fear of her dreadful accompt, which is then to be made. Because she is naturally loath to depart from the body, and she liketh well her lodging, and is in very great dread to come to her accompt before almighty God.
Now when the soul is thus departed out of the flesh, yet there remain two voyages for thee to make with him: the one, to accompany the body until it be laid in his grave: the other, to follow the soul until her cause be determined. And thou hast to consider diligently what shall become of each one of these two parts.
Consider now in what plight the body is after the soul hath forsaken it: and what a worthy garment they provide to wind it in: and what haste his friends and executors do make to get him quickly rid away out of the house. Consider also the funerals, with all the other circumstances that are wont to happen therein: The often ringing of the bells: the going about of the bellman crying unto the people to pray for his soul: the questioning in the streets one of an other who is dead: the diriges, and doleful Service of the Church: the accompanying of his corpse to the Church: and the sorrowful weeping, and mourning of his wife, children, kinsfolk, servants, and friends for him: and finally all the other particulars, that are then wont to happen until the body be laid and left in the grave, where it shall lie buried until it be raised again by the terrible sound of the trumpet at the general day of Judgement. And such is the great change and alteration in worldly affairs that it may so come to pass, as a time may happen, when some building may be made near unto thy grave, (be it never so gay, and sumptuous,) and that they may dig for some earth out of the same to make mortar for a wall, and so shall thy seely body (being now changed into earth) become afterwards an earthen wall, although it be at this present the most noble body and most delicately cherished of all bodies in the world. And how many bodies of Kings and Emperors trowest thou have come already to this promotion.
Now when thou hast left the body in the grave, go from thence forthwith, and follow after the soul: and consider what way it taketh through that new region: whither it goeth: what shall everlastingly become of it for ever, and ever: and what judgement it shall have. Imagine that thou art now present at this judgement, and that thou seest all the whole court of heaven to expect the end of this sentence, where the soul shall give a particular accompt, and be charged and discharged of all that he hath received, even to the value of a pins point: yea, and (as our Savior himself affirmeth) of every idle word. There an accompt shall be required of his life, of his lands, and riches: of his household, and family: of the inspirations of almighty God: of the means and opportunity he hath had to lead a virtuous, and godly life: and above all, he shall be straitly examined what estimation he hath made of the most precious blood of our Savior Christ: and of the use of his Sacraments. And there shall every man be judged according to the accompt he shall make of the gifts and graces he hath received of almighty God.
THE THIRD TREATISE: wherein is treated of the consideration of death: where the former meditation is declared more at large.
The consideration of death is very profitable for many purposes, and especially for three. First for the obtaining of true wisdom: that is, to know how a man ought to govern and frame his life. For (as the Philosophers do say) in things that are ordained to any end, the rule and measure whereby to direct them, is to be taken of the same end. And therefore when men do either build, or Sail, or do any thing, they have always their eye fixed upon the end which they pretend, and according to the same do frame and direct all the rest of their doings. Now considering that among the ends and terms of our life, death is one of them (whither we go all to take our rest) he that will endeavor to direct his life in good order, let him fix his eyes upon this mark, and according to the same let him dispose and direct all his affairs. Let him consider how poor and naked he must depart out of this world, and what a strait judgement he must pass at the hour of his death, and how he shall lie in his grave all betrodden, and quite forgotten of all men: and according to this end let him consider how to frame and direct the whole order and course of his life. By this rule a certain Philosopher governed and directed his life that said: Naked came I out of my mothers womb, and naked must I return again to my grave: To what purpose then should I lose my time, in purchasing and heaping together lands, and riches, seeing nakedness shall be my end. For want of consideration of this our end do grow all our errors, and deceits. Hereof cometh our presumption, our pride, our covetousness, our pleasures, our niceness, and delicateness, and the vain castles and towers of wind, which we build upon sand. For if we would consider, in what case we shall be after a few days when we are once lodged in that poor seely cottage of our grave, we should be more humble, and more temperate in our life. How could he possibly have any spark of presumption, that would consider, that he shall be there dust, and ashes? How could he find in his heart to make a God of his belly, that would consider that he shall become there worms meat? Who could ever be persuaded to occupy his grain in such lofty and fantastical thoughts, and devices, if he did but consider and weigh how frail and weak the foundation is, whereupon all his fond designments are grounded? Who would endanger the loss and destruction of himself, in seeking for riches both by land, and Sea, if he considered that at his death he should carry no more with him, but a poor winding sheet? To conclude, all the works of our life would be duly corrected, and framed in good order, if we would measure and square them out by this rule.
For this cause the Philosophers said, that the life of a Wise man was nothing else but only a continual cogitation and thinking of death: forsomuch as this consideration teacheth a man what thing is somewhat, and what is nothing, what he ought to follow, and what to eschew, according to the end whereunto he must certainly arrive. It is written of those Philosophers called Brackmanni, that they were so much given to think upon their end, that they had their graves always open before the gates of their houses, to the intent that both at their entry and going forth by them they might always be mindful of this journey and passage of death.
Almighty God said unto the Prophet Jeremias, that he should go down into a house where earth was wrought, for that he would there speak with him. Almighty God could have spoken with his Prophet in any other place, but he chose to speak with him in that place, to give us to understand, that the house of earth (which is our grave) is the school of true wisdom, where almighty God is wont to teach those that be his. There he teacheth them how great is the vanity of this world: There he sheweth unto them the misery of our flesh, and the shortness of this life. And above all, there he teacheth them to know themselves, which is one of the most highest points of Philosophy that may be learned. Wherefore (O thou man) descend down with thy spirit unto this house, and there shalt thou see, who thou art: whereof thou art come: where thou shalt rest: and wherein the beauty of thy flesh and glory of this world do end. So shalt thou learn to despise all those things, that the world hath in reverence for want of due knowledge how to consider them. Because the world considereth no more but only the painted face of Jezabel, that shined very beautifully and gayly at the window. It considereth not the miserable extreme parts of her, which after that her body was devoured with dogs, almighty God would have to remain whole, that thereby we might see, that the world is an other manner of thing in deed than it appeareth in outward shew, and that we should in such wise consider the face of it, as to be mindful also of the extreme griefs, and sorrows wherein the glory of it endeth.
Secondly, this consideration is a great help to cause us to eschew and forsake sin: according as Ecclesiasticus witnesseth, saying: Remember the last end, and thou shalt never sin. It is a great matter not to sin, and a great remedy also for the same is for a man to remember that he must die. St. John Climacus writeth of a certain Monk, that being sore tempted with the beauty of a woman, whom he had seen abroad in the world, and understanding that she was dead, went to the grave where she was buried, and rubbed a napkin in the stinking body of the dead woman. And he used always afterwards whensoever the devil troubled him with any evil thought of her, to take the stinking napkin, and to put it to his nose, and say to himself: Behold here thou miserable wretch the thing thou lovest, and behold here what end the delights and beauties of the world have. This was a great remedy to overcome this sin. And the deep consideration of death is of no less importance than it, as St. Gregory saith: There is nothing that doth so mortify the appetites of this our perverse flesh, as to consider in what plight the same shall be after it is dead.
The same holy father rehearseth a like story of an other Monk, who having his table ready provided to go to dinner, to eat somewhat for the refreshing of his weak and weary body, chanced suddenly to have a remembrance of death, which cogitation (even as though it had been a constable or other like officer there ready to attach him) put him in such a terror, and fear, that it caused him to refrain from his meat. Consider therefore how much the remembrance of the dreadful accompt that we must make at the hour of our death is able to work in the heart of a just man, seeing it caused this holy Monk to abstain from a thing that is so lawful and necessary to be done.
Certainly this is one of the most wonderful things in all the world, that men knowing so assuredly, that at the very hour of their death, a particular accompt shall be required of them of all their whole life, yea and of every idle word, will notwithstanding run headlong with such facility into sin. If a wayfaring man having but one farthing in his purse should enter into an Inn, and placing himself down at the table, should require of the host to bring in Partridges, Capons, Pheasants, and all other delicates that may be found in the house, and should sup with very great pleasure, and contentation, never remembering that at the last there must come a time of accompt: who would not take this fellow, either for a jester, or for a very fool? Now what greater folly or madness can be devised, than for men to give themselves so loosely to all kinds of vices, and to sleep so soundly in them, without ever remembering, that shortly after at their departing out of their Inn, there shall be required of them a very strait and particular accompt of all their dissolute and wicked life?
Wherefore it is verily to be thought, that the devil laboreth all he can to make us utterly to neglect and forget the remembrance of our accompt, that we must make at the very hour of our death, because he knoweth full well, what great profit and commodity would arise unto us by the continual remembrance of the same. For otherwise how were it possible that men should forget a thing that is so terrible, and fearful, yea such a thing, as they know most assuredly will come, and steal very shortly upon them at their own houses? If we have but the least doubt or suspicion in the world of losing a little worldly riches, or of some other like thing, it maketh us often times very careful, and watchful, and causeth us to lose both our sleep, and our health. How happeneth it then that the remembrance of death which as well to the body, as to the soul, is the most horrible and dreadful thing that may come unto us, causeth us not to be likewise very careful and watchful in making provision beforehand for the coming of it? Surely it seemeth unto me a thing very much to be marveled at, that men should be so careful as they be in trifles, and matters of small importance, and live so negligently, and without all care in things that are of so great importance unto them as is their everlasting salvation, or damnation.
Thirdly, this consideration of our death is a great help not only to provoke us to live a good life, (as it hath been said,) but besides that to die well. In things that be hard, and difficult, foresight and preparation beforehand is a very great help to bring them well to pass. Now so great a leap as is the leap of death, (which reacheth from this life to the everlasting life to come) can not well be leaped unless we make a great course, and fetch a long race to run the same. No great thing can be well and perfectly done at the first time. Seeing therefore it is so great a matter to die, and so necessary to die well, it shall be very expedient for us to die often times in our life, that we may die well at the very time of our death. The soldiers that be appointed to fight do first practice themselves in such feats, and exercises, as whereby they may learn in time of peace, what they must do in time of war. The horse also that must run at the Tilt traverseth all the ground before, and trieth all the steps thereof, that at such time as he cometh to make his course he be not found new and strange in doing his feat. Wherefore sith we all must needs run this course (forsomuch as there is no man alive but must die,) considering also that the way is so obscure and stony (as all men know,) and the danger so great, that whosoever falleth shall be tumbled down headlong into the bottomless pit of hell fire, it shall be requisite that we do now tread diligently beforehand all this way, and consider particularly all the steps and places thereof one by one, forsomuch as in every one of them there is much to be considered.
And let us not think it enough to consider only what passeth outwardly about the sick mans bed, but let us endeavor much more to understand what passeth inwardly within his heart.
OF THE UNCERTAINTY OF THE HOUR OF DEATH: And what a grief it is at that time to depart from all things of this life.
To begin now even from the beginning of this conflict: Consider how when death shall come upon thee, it will come at such a time, as when thou thinkest thyself in most safety, and suspectest least of the coming thereof, as we see by experience it is wont to happen unto many. The day of our Lord (saith the Apostle) shall come like a thief: Which watcheth always to come at such times, as men are most careless, and think themselves in most safety, that it may take us upon a sudden at unwares. And so we see it happeneth most often, that even at that time when men do least think to die, and when they are least mindful of their departure out of this life, yea when they cast their accompts beforehand to make great purchases, and buildings, and to set upon great enterprises of many days, and years, then cometh death suddenly upon them, and disappointeth them of all their vain hopes, and designments, and utterly overthroweth all their fond imaginations, and buildings, which they made in the air. And so is that saying fulfilled of the holy king. My life (saith he) was cut of like as the weaver cutteth of his thread: while I was as yet in the beginning he cut me of: from morning to evening thou wilt make an end of me.
The first stroke wherewith death is wont to strike, is the fear of death. Surely this is a very great anguish unto him that is in love with his life: and this forewarning is such a great grief unto a man, that oftentimes his carnal friends do use to dissemble it, and will not have the sick man to believe it, least it should vex and disquiet him: and this they will do some times although it be to the prejudice and destruction of his miserable soul. King Saul had a very stout and valiant courage, but after that the shadow of Samuel appeared unto him, and had told him, that he should die in the battle, adding moreover these words: Tomorrow both thou and thy sons shall be here with me: The fear and terror which he conceived at these tidings was so great, that at that very instant he lost all his force, and courage, and fell down to the ground as a dead man. Now what a grief will it be to a man, that is in love with this life, when such like news shall be signified unto him? For immediately upon this denunciation there shall be represented unto him his departure and perpetual banishment from this world, and from all things that be in the same. Then shall he see that his hour is now come, and that the dawning of that dreadful day appeareth now at his house, wherein he shall depart from all things that he hath loved in this life. His body shall die but once, but his heart shall die as often as he shall remember the loss of all those things whereunto it beareth love, and affection. Forsomuch as death shall put the knife between him, and them all, and make an everlasting division. The deeper root the tooth hath in the jaw, the greater grief it causeth at what time it is plucked out. Now the heart of a wicked man being so fast rooted in the love of the things of this life, it cannot be, but that it must needs be a very great grief unto him, when he seeth the hour is now come wherein he must depart from them all. At that time those things whereunto he beareth most affection shall wound his heart most grievously: and that thing which was wont to be a comfort unto him in his trouble shall be then a most cruel torment in vexing him. St. Augustine declareth that at what time he determined to separate himself from the world, and from all the pleasures and delights thereof, it seemed unto him that they all represented themselves lively unto him, and said: What wilt thou leave us for ever? And wilt thou never have any more to do with us? Consider now then with thyself, what a grief it will be to a carnal heart, when those things that he hath most loved, do represent themselves at that hour unto him, and when he seeth that he shall be spoiled of them all in such wise, that he shall be enforced to say. Now shall this world have no more to do with me, neither this air, nor this sun, nor this element. Now shall I have no longer conversation and comfort of my children, my wife, my house, my lands, my goods, my pleasures, and delights. Of all things I am now left naked, and bare. Now will death spoil me of them all. Now is my old age at an end: Now is the number of my days fulfilled: Now shall I die unto all manner of things, and they all unto me. Wherefore O thou world, I bid thee farewell: ye my lands, my goods, and riches, I bid you farewell: my friends, my acquaintance, my kinsfolk, my loving wife, and my dear young children I bid you all farewell. For now alas shall we never see one an other any more in this mortal flesh.
There is yet an other separation after this more terrible and dreadful than this is: to wit, between the soul, and the body, which have kept company so long time together, and have been such hearty friends. The devil had spoiled the holy man Job of all manner of things saving only of his life, and it seemed unto him, that in comparison of the spoil thereof, all the rest were of none accompt and therefore he said: Skin for skin, and all that a man hath he will give for his life. This is the thing that naturally is most loved, and the separation whereof causeth most grief. If the separation of one wayfaring man from an other, when they have travailed in journey together any time, do cause such grief, and solitariness: what a grief shall it be, when two such entire friends, and companions, as the soul, and the body have been, are separated the one from the other, which have travailed together from their mothers womb until that very hour, and have had so many knots, and bonds of friendship between them? What a grief will it be when the spirit shall say unto the flesh: I must now remain all alone without thee. And the flesh shall likewise make answer unto the spirit, saying: And in what case then shall I be without thee, seeing all the being I have, I received of thee?
OF THE HORROR AND LOATHSOMENESS OF OUR GRAVE.
After this it cometh naturally to a mans mind to think what shall become of his body, when his soul is departed out of it. And in thinking hereupon, he seeth that the best hap his body may have, can be no better than to be laid in a little grave of earth. The baseness of which condition maketh him to be as it were astonied. For considering on the one side what great estimation he hath made of his body in times past, and seeing on the other side what a base and vile place that is, wherein it must now be laid, he cannot but wonder exceedingly at it. He considereth and weigheth with himself, that the lodging which they will prepare for him in the earth shall be strait, and narrow, that it shall be also obscure, stinking, full of worms, maggots, bones, and dead mens skulls, and withal so horrible, that it shall be very irksome to them that be alive only to look upon it. And when he seeth that his body which he was wont to make so much of, his belly which he esteemed for his God, his mouth for whose delights the land and sea could scarcely serve, and his flesh for which gold and silk was wont to be woven with great curiosity, and a soft bed prepared to lay it in, must now be laid in such a filthy and miserable dunghill, where it shall be trodden upon, and eaten with foul worms, and maggots, and within few days be of as ugly a form, as a dead Carion that lieth in the fields, insomuch that the wayfaring man will stop his nose, and run away in great haste to avoid the stinking savour of it: when (I say) he considereth all this, and seeth that in steed of his soft bed, he must lie there upon the hard ground: and in steed of his precious and gorgeous apparel he must have there but only a seely poor winding sheet: and in steed of his sweet odoriferous perfumes, and musks, filthy rottenness, and horrible stenches: and in steed of his multitude of delicate dishes, and waiting serving men, he must have there such an infinite number of crawling worms, and filthy maggots feeding upon him, he cannot choose (if he have any sense of Judgement remaining in him) but marvel to see unto how base a condition such a noble creature is now come, and to consider with whom he must now keep company there, even fellow, and fellow like, who in his life time had no fellow, nor equal. It is not the part of wise men to wonder at things: and the customable seeing of things every day taketh away from them (be they never so great) all admiration, and wonder. And yet all this notwithstanding, the great Wise man wondered at this misery (though it be a matter whereof we have daily experience) when he said: If man and beast do die both after one sort, what availeth me that I have travailed so much in seeking for wisdom? If it were so, that the body in this separation should end in some thing that were of any price, or profit, it would be some kind of comfort unto us. But this is a thing to be wondered at, that so excellent a creature shall end in the most dishonorable and loathsome thing in the world. This is that great misery whereat the holy man Job wondered, (and surely not without good cause) when he said. The tree after it is cut, hath hope to revive, and spring again, and if the root of it do rot in the ground, and the stock be dead in the earth, yet with the freshness of water it springeth again, and bringeth forth leaves, as if it were newly planted. But man after he is once dead, withered, and consumed, what is become of him? Great (undoubtedly) was the tribute that was laid upon the children of Adam for sin. And the everlasting Judge understood very well, what penance he gave unto man, when he said: Thou art dust, and into dust thou shalt return again.
OF THE GREAT FEAR AND DOUBT THE SOUL hath at the hour of death, what shall happen unto it after it is departed out of the body.
Howbeit this is not the greatest cause of fear, that a man hath at the hour of his death, but there is yet one far greater: and that is, when the soul casteth her eyes further, and beginneth to think upon the dangers of the life to come, and imagineth what shall become of her hereafter. For this is now as it were to depart from the haven mouth, and to launch into the main Sea, where none other thing is to be seen on what side so ever ye look, but only heaven, and the water, the which is wont to be occasion of greater fear in such as are but new Seamen. For when a man considereth that eternity of worlds, which followeth after death: and withal casteth his eye into that new and strange region, which was never known nor travailed by any man alive, where he must now begin to take his journey, when he considereth also the everlasting glory or pain which there must fall to his lot, and seeth that wheresoever the tree falleth, there it shall remain for evermore, and knoweth not on which of the two sides he shall fall, when he considereth (I say) all these things, he cannot but be in a very great fear, and trouble of mind. We read that when Benadad king of Syria was sick, he was in so great anguish and grief of mind, for that he knew not whether he should die of that sickness or not, that he sent the general of his army with forty Camels loden with treasure unto the Prophet Elizeus, requesting him with words of great humility, to rid him out of that perplexity he was in, and to put him out of all doubt, whether he should recover of that sickness, or not. Now if the love of so short a life as this is be able to cause a man to be in such a great care and pensiveness, how great care will a Wise man take, when he perceiveth himself to be in such a case, as that he may truly say, that within two hours he shall have one of these two lots: to wit, either life everlasting, or else death everlasting: and that he knoweth not certainly whether of these two shall come unto him? What martyrdom may be compared to such a painful anguish and grief as this is? Put the case now, that a king were taken prisoner among the Turks and when his Ambassadors should come to ransom him, the Turks would propound, that the matter should be determined by casting of lots, and that if he happened to have a good lot, he should be ransomed, and go home with his Ambassadors to his kingdom, but if contrariwise, that then immediately he should be thrown into a great fiery furnace, which were there prepared burning and flaming before him. Tell me I pray thee, at the time when they should be casting the lots, and putting their hand into the vessel to take them out, and all the world in great expectation, waiting what should be the end thereof, and the king himself standing there present, beholding the doubtful hap that must be allotted unto him, in what a doleful case (thinkest thou) would he then be! How troubled? How fearful? How quaking, and trembling? And how ready to promise and vow unto almighty God all he could possibly do, to be quite rid out of that terrible anguish? Now what is all this (be it never so great) but as it were a shadow, if it be compared with this danger that we speak of? How far greater is the kingdom that we seek? How far greater is the fiery furnace that we do fear? How far more grievous is the perplexity and doubtfulness of this matter, than of the other? For on the one side the angels shall be there expecting for us, to carry us to the kingdom of heaven, and on the other side the devils, to cast us into the horrible furnace of hell fire, and no man knoweth whether of these two lots shall happen unto him, which shall be determined either the one way or the other within the space of one hour after his death. Consider therefore in what a heavy plight thy heart shall be at this last instant: how fearful, how humble, how abased before the face of him, who only can deliver thee out of this danger. Surely I am of this opinion, that there is no tongue in the world able to declare this matter as it is indeed.
HOW WE COME TO UNDERSTAND hereby the errors and blindness of our life past.
After this anguish there followeth yet an other as great as it, (namely in such persons as have lived a wicked and dissolute life,) which is, to come so late to think upon the accompt they have then forthwith to make of all the disorders, and offences of their former life. O how wonderfully shall the wicked be confounded at that time, when the grief of their pain shall cause them to open their eyes, which heretofore the delight and pleasure of sin had closed up! Insomuch as they shall then clearly perceive what false gods those were which they have served, and how deceitful those riches were which they have so greedily gaped after, and how by following that way, whereby they thought to have found rest, they find in conclusion their utter ruin, and destruction. The servants of the king of Syria came to apprehend the Prophet Eliseus, and when almighty God had stricken them all blind by means of the prayer of the Prophet, the Prophet said unto them: Come, go with me, and I will shew you him whom you seek. And when he had thus said, he carried them with him unto Samaria, and brought them into the market place of the city, in the midst of all their enemies. And then made his prayer again, and said. O Lord, open the eyes of these miserable men, that they may see where they are. Now tell me I pray thee, when those men opened their eyes, and saw whither they were come, (believing certainly before, that they went to find the party they sought for,) how amazed and ashamed were they, when they saw how foully they were deceived. Now what thing in the world could make a more lively resemblance of the process and deceits of our life? We all do walk here in this world by the way of our appetites, and desires. Some seek after gold: others to purchase lands: others to make great buildings: others seek for pleasures, and delights: others for offices, and dignities: and each one is fully persuaded, that he taketh the best and wisest way to obtain the thing he desireth. But when the terrible presence of death, and the danger of our accompt discovereth the vanity of our hopes, then finding ourselves to be in arrearages for our accompt, we shall clearly perceive how foully we have been deceived: and we shall see that by following that way, whereby we thought to have found quietness, and rest, we find our perdition. O what miserable men are we! How blindly do we now wander up and down in the world? What eyes shall we then have? How shall our judgement be then altered? How far different shall it be from that it was before? Then shall we plainly see, how all the things of this world are miserable, her goods false, her ways crooked, her hopes vain, her promises lying, her pleasures bitter, her glory short, and vain. Then shall we perceive (though too late) how her riches were thorns, and her delights poison. To be short, then shall we see how our eyes have been closed up, and that we never knew whither we went: and at the end of our journey we shall find ourselves in the streets of Sameria, and in the snare of the judgement of almighty God, and compassed about with all our enemies, to wit, the devils, and our sins. O how shall the wicked be confounded at that hour, and how foully shall they see themselves beguiled! How truly may every one of them say at that time: O miserable wretch that I am, what other commodity have I now by all my pleasures past, but only that I have provoked at this dreadful hour the indignation of the judge against me, who must give sentence upon me? Now my pleasures are all ended, and gone, and there remaineth of them neither relic nor memory to comfort me withal, no more than if they never had been: yea contrariwise they remain as thorns that lie pricking all about my heart, they make my cause doubtful, they torment my woeful soul now presently, and peradventure shall torment it everlastingly for ever, and ever. This is the fruit that I have gathered of my dissolute and wanton life, and of all my carnal delights: This is the setting of my teeth on edge, that my gluttonies past do cause me now to have. My pleasures and delights have now forsaken me: They are quite gone away, and will never return again: yea perhaps in steed of pleasures that continued but a moment, there are prepared for me everlasting horrible torments in hell fire. Now what blindness can be greater than this? How much better had it been for me never to have been born, than to have offended him, of whose help and favor I have at this present so great need? How much better had it been for me that the earth had opened, and swallowed me up, before I had once thought to offend him? O unfortunate day! O cursed hour, wherein I offended thee O Lord! Why did I not consider beforehand of this dreadful hour? Why was I not sooner mindful of this terrible judgement? How were mine eyes blinded with so small a glimpse? Is this the way that I took to be so certain, and sure? Is this the end that all the honors of the world come unto? What? Are all those things which I have so greatly esteemed heretofore of so little accompt at this present?
OF THE TERROR OF THE DREADFUL accompt we must make at the hour of our death unto almighty God of all our life past.
After this grief there followeth also an other as great as this: which is, the fear of the accompt that shall then be required of us.
This is one of the greatest troubles, and griefs, we shall have at that time. For besides this that it is so terrible a matter to enter into judgement with almighty God, the very devils also, and fiends of hell will increase this fear at that hour, which before they were wont to extenuate, and dimmish unto us, with the hope and colour of gods mercy. Then will they put us in mind of the greatness and profoundness of the judgements of almighty God, and of his justice, which they will then shew to be so great, that he pardoned not his own only son for the sins of others. If this then be done in green wood, what shall be done (say they) in dry wood? Then the wicked man shall begin to tremble, and quake for fear, and say to himself. O miserable wretch that I am! If that be true, which all the scripture reporteth, to wit, that almighty God will give to every one according to his works, what may I hope to receive at his hands, that have done so many wicked works? If the Gospel say, That the tree shall be judged according to the fruit that it yieldeth, what judgement may I look for, that have brought forth so many wicked fruits? If it be true, which the Prophet saith: That none shall ascend up to the hill of God, unless he have innocent hands, and an undefiled heart: whither shall I then go, that have had such wicked hands, and such a filthy heart? If the saying of the Wiseman be true: That whosoever shutteth his ears and will not hear the law, shall cry, and not be heard: what may I look for, that have had mine ears shut against almighty God, and yet have had them so open to harken after lies, and vanities of the world. Wherefore (O my omnipotent God) with what face shall I now appear before thee, and desire thee to give ear unto me, seeing thou hast so often times called me, and I would give no ear unto thee? How can I request thee to receive me into thy house, seeing thou hast so often times called at my house, and I have shut my gates against thee? How shall I find thee now at the time of my need, seeing thou hast had so often times need of me in thy poor and impotent members, and hast not found me? By what title or right may I request thee now at the end of my journey to grant me heaven, seeing I have spent all my life time in the service of the devil thine enemy? O how justly mayest thou now (O Lord) say unto me: Thou hast served the world, and the devil, get thee therefore unto them, and let them give thee thy hire. The like answer made the Prophet Eliseus to king Joram the son of Achab. Who when he had spent and employed all his life in the service and worshiping of Idols, and came in the time of his necessity to the Prophet of God, requesting him of help, and remedy, the holy Prophet answered, and said: O king Joram, what hast thou to do with me? Get thee hence to the Prophets of thy father, and mother, and desire them to help thee at this time. O how many of us do follow this wicked king both in our life, and death! In our life we serve the world, and at the point of death we call upon almighty God. What answer may we look to have at that dreadful hour, but even the same that he hath already given in the like case? Which is: What hast thou to do with me, sith thou didst never service unto me? Get thee hence to thy counselors whom thou hast followed, and to thy idols whom thou hast loved, served and adored, and speak unto them to give thee thy wages for thy service.
When ye shall cry (saith almighty God by his prophet Isaias) let them that ye have gathered together deliver you, but the wind shall take them all away.
At this time the sick man beginneth to wish that he might have some space to do penance for his former wicked life. And he thinketh then with himself, that if he might obtain it, O how he would fast, and pray, and do great works of mercy: Yea, he would not content himself with every common kind of penance, but would live the most strait, and austere kind of life of all men in the world. But alas, when he perceiveth by the increasing of his sickness, that his request will not be granted: and calleth to mind what time opportunity and means he hath had to prepare himself for this dreadful hour, and how fondly he hath suffered the same to pass in vain, then is he wonderfully grieved and vexed for this loss, and acknowledgeth himself to be well worthy of such punishment, for that he would not be mindful beforehand of his dreadful accompt, but omitted to do penance for his sins when he had time and space to do it. O unto how many of us doth it happen to be beguiled after this sort, spending and consuming the time (which almighty God hath given us to do penance for our sins,) in vanities, and pleasures, and afterwards when we stand in most need of it we want it! And so it happeneth unto us, as it doth commonly to the pages, and servitors in the Court, who being allowed a candle to light themselves to bed, do spend their candle in play all the night, and afterwards are constrained to go to bed darkling.
OF THE SACRAMENT OF EXTREME UNCTION: And of the agony of death.
Now approacheth the sick person to his last end: and the Catholic Church as a very loving and pitiful mother, beginneth then to help her Children with prayers, and Sacraments, and with all the means she may possibly do. And because his necessity is so great (for at that instant it shall be determined what shall become of him for ever, and ever,) great haste is made to call upon all the Saints in heaven, that they all will help the sick man in this his great peril, and danger. For what other thing is the Litany which then by commandment of the Church is to be said over him that is at the point of death, but that the Catholic Church as a pitiful mother, being very careful for the danger of her sick child, knocketh at all the gates of heaven, and crieth unto all the Saints, desiring them to be intercessors before the divine majesty for the salvation of him, that standeth now in so great need of their help, at the time of his passing out of this world.
Then the Priest out of hand anointeth all the senses and members of the sick person with the holy Oil, (according as the holy Scripture commandeth in the Epistle of St. James. Cap.5.vers.14.) And desireth almighty God to pardon the sick person all that he hath offended by any of his senses. And then anointing his eyes he saith: Almighty God by this Unction and of his divine mercy pardon thee all the sins that thou hast committed by means of thine eyes. And in this wise he anointeth all the other parts of the sick person. Now if the miserable sinner have been dissolute in his eyes, or in his tongue, or in any other of his bodily senses: If all his former dissolute disorders and wanton pleasures be represented unto him at that time, in such sort that he seeth well what little fruit he is like to find then by all his former delights, and pleasures: If he perceive withal into what a narrow strait he is brought by means of his wicked and licentious life, how can he choose but feel an extreme anguish and grief therewith? What would he give at that time (trow ye) that he had never lifted up his eyes from the ground to behold any woman with any wanton look, and that he had never opened his mouth to speak any words of lying, slander, detraction, or any other wicked word?
After this follow the pangs and agony of death, which is surely the greatest of all the conflicts we have in this life. Then is the holy Candle lighted, and his friends and executors begin to provide his winding sheet, and other things for his funerals: Then they begin to say to the sick man, that the hour of his departure out of this world is now come: and therefore they counsel him to recommend himself unto almighty God, and to call upon the holy virgin Mary his blessed Mother, who is wont at that hour to help all them that call upon her. Then the sick man beginneth to hear the woeful cries and pitiful lamentations of his poor wife, who now presently beginneth to feel the discommodities of her new widowhood, and solitary life. Then the soul of the sick man is ready to depart from the body: and at the time of her going every one of his members is sore grieved and vexed therewith. Then are the cares of the soul renewed afresh. Then is the soul in a marvelous great conflict, and agony, not so much for her departure, as for fear of the hour of her dreadful accompt, approaching so near unto her. Then is the time of trembling, and quaking, yea even of such as be most stout, and courageous. The blessed holy father Hilarion, as he was passing out of this world, began to tremble, and fear, and was loath to die, howbeit the holy man encouraged himself, saying, Go forth my soul: go forth out of this body: whereof shouldest thou be afraid? It is threescore and ten years that thou hast served Christ, and art thou yet afraid of death? Now if this holy man were afraid of his passing out of this world, who served Christ so many years, what shall he do, who peradventure hath offended him so many years? Whither shall he go? Whom shall he call upon? What counsel shall he take? O that men understood how great this perplexity and anguish is at this dreadful hour? Imagine now (I beseech thee) in what a doleful case the heart of the Patriarch Isaac was, when his father held him bound hands, and feet, and had laid him upon the wood to sacrifice him, when he saw his fathers glistering sword over his head, and underneath him the flames of fire burning, and the servants that might have succored him staying at the foot of the hill, and he himself bound hands and feet in such sort that he could neither flee, nor defend himself, in what plight trow ye was the heart of this blessed young man, when he saw himself in so narrow a strait? And surely in far greater perplexity is the soul of the wicked man at this dreadful hour: because he can turn his eyes on no side, where he shall not see occasions of great terror, and fear. If he look upward, he seeth the terrible sword of the justice of almighty God threatening him: If he look downward, he seeth the grave open ever gaping, and tarrying for him: If he look within himself, he seeth his own conscience gnawing, and biting him: If he look about him, there be Angels, and devils, on both sides of him, watching and expecting the end of the sentence, whether of them shall have the prey: If he look backward, he seeth his doleful wife, his little young children, his poor servants, his kinsfolk, his friends, his companions, his acquaintance, his house, his lands, and the goods of this life to remain all behind, and are not able to succor him in this his great distress: forsomuch as he must depart all alone out of this life, and they all must remain still here. To conclude, if after all this he take a view of himself, and consider what he is inwardly, he shall be wonderfully amazed, and afraid, to see himself in such a dangerous and terrible state: insomuch as if it were possible, he would fly away even from himself. Now alas, to depart from the body is a thing intolerable? To continue still therein is a thing impossible: And to differ his departure any longer will not be granted. All the time past seemeth unto him but as a blast of wind: and that which is to come appeareth (as it is in deed) infinite. Now what shall the miserable soul do being thus compassed and environed about with so many straits? O how fond and blind are the sons of Adam, that will not provide in time for this terrible passage!
HOW FILTHY, AND LOATHSOME THE BODY IS after it is dead: And of the burying of it in the grave.
Last of all, when this great conflict is ended, the soul is violently taken away from the body, and departeth from her ancient habitation, the body remaining utterly spoiled of all the beauty, and qualities it had.
Now let us consider what lot each one of these two parts must have. First consider, in what case the body is, after the soul is departed out of it. What thing is more esteemed than the body of a prince whiles he is alive? And what thing is more contemptable, and more vile, than the very same body when it is dead? Where is then that former princely majesty become? Where is that royal behavior, and glorious magnificence? Where is that high authority, and sovereignty? Where is that terror, and fear, at the beholding of his presence? Where is that capping, and kneeling, and speaking unto him with such reverence, and subjection? How quickly is all this gay pomp utterly overthrown, and come to nothing, as if it had been but a mere dream, or a play on a stage, that is dispatched in an hour?
Then out of hand the winding sheet is provided, and brought forth, which is the richest jewel he may take with him out of this life. And this is the greatest recompence that the richest man in this world shall have of all his goods at that hour. I wish this point were well considered by every covetous man, and by those that make their money their God: whose blindness and folly the Prophet reprehendeth in these words: Be not afraid when a man waxeth rich, and when thou seest the glory of his house very much multiplied, and increased: for when he dieth he shall not carry his goods away with him, neither shall his glory go down with him.
Then do they make a hole in the earth of seven or eight foot long, (and no longer though it be for Alexander the great, whom the whole world could not hold) and with that small room only must his body be content. There they appoint him his house for ever: There he taketh up his perpetual lodging until the last day of general Judgement, in company with other dead bodies: There the worms crawl out to give him his entertainment: To be short, there they let him down in a poor white sheet, his face being covered with a napkin, and his hands and feet fast bound: which truly needeth not, for he is then sure enough for breaking out of prison, neither shall he be able to defend himself against any man. There the earth receiveth him into her lap. There the bones of dead men kiss, and welcome him: There the dust of his ancestors embraceth him, and inviteth him to that table, and house, which is appointed for all men living. And the last honor that the world can do unto him at that time, is to cast a little earth upon him, and to cover him well therewith, that the people may not feel his stinking savour, and behold his dishonor. And the greatest pleasure that his very dear and special friends can do then unto him (besides praying for his soul,) is to honor him with casting a handful of earth upon him. And therefore the faithful people are wont to use this ceremony towards the dead, that almighty God may dispose others to do the same unto them, when they shall be in the like case. Now what greater confession and acknowledging of our misery can we devise, than to see how men do prevent beforehand that they may not want after their death so small a benefit as this is? O greedy covetousness of the living, and great poverty of the dead! Why should a man desire and gape after so many things for this present life, being so short as it is, seeing so little will content him at the hour of his death?
Then the grave maker taketh the spade, and pickaxe into his hand, and beginneth to tumble down bones upon bones, and to tread down the earth very hard upon him. Insomuch that the fairest face in all the world, the best trimmed, and most charily kept from wind, and sun, shall lie there, and be stamped upon by the rude grave maker, who will not stick to lay him on the face, and rap him on the skull, yea and to batter down his eyes and nose flat to his face, that they may lie well and even with the earth. And the fine dappered gentleman who whiles he lived might in no wise abide the wind to blow upon him, no not so much as a little hair or mote to fall upon his garments, but in all haste it must be brushed of with great curiosity, here they lay and hurl upon him a dunghill of filthiness, and dirt. And that sweet minion gentleman also that was wont forsooth to go perfumed with Amber, and other odoriferous smells, must be contented here to lie covered all over with earth, and foul crawling worms, and maggots. This is the end of all the gay braveries, and of all the pomp, and glory of the world.
In this plight do all his friends now leave him, lying in that strait lodging, in that earth of oblivion, and in that dark prison, where he shall remain accompanied with perpetual solitariness until the general day of Judgement. O world what is become of thy glory? O ye my houses, lands, and riches, where is your power? O my wife, my children, my friends, and kinsfolk, where have ye now left me? How happeneth it, that ye my old friends and companions do so quickly forsake me, and leave me here in the earth thus solitary alone? How chanceth it, that the wheel of my so great prosperity and felicity is so quickly overturned, and defaced? They that saw Queen Jezabel when she was (by the just judgement of God) eaten with dogs, when they saw that there remained nothing else of her beauty, but only her skull, and the extreme parts of her feet, and hands, those (I say) that had known her before in so great flourishing and royal estate, and saw her at that time in such a miserable plight, wondering at that so great alteration, and change, demanded, and said: Haccine est illa Jezabel? Is this that Jezabel? And as many as passed by that way, and beheld her thus eaten with dogs, repeated the same exclamation, marveling at so great a change, and said: Is this that Jezabel? Is this that great Queen, and Lady of Israel? Is this she that was so mighty, that she usurped and seized the lands and goods of her subjects, by shedding of their blood? Is death able to bring the mighty and puissant Princess to such a base and miserable calamity?
Now therefore my dear brother go down I pray thee with thy spirit into the graves and Sepulchers of such Princes, and great noble personages, as thou hast, either heard of, or known in this world: and consider what a horrible and deformed form of their bodies is there to be seen. And thou shalt see, that thou hast good cause to make the like exclamation, and to use the same words, and say: Is this that Jezabel? Is this that amiable face, which I knew so fair, and lively? Are these those eyes, that were so clear, and bright to behold? Is this that pleasant rolling tongue, that talked so eloquently, and made such goodly discourses? Is this that fine and neat body, that was so trimly polished, and adorned? Is this the end of the majesty of Princes scepters, and royal crowns? Is this the end of the glory of the world? O how often times (saith a Wise man) hath it been my chance to enter into the sepulchers of some dead bodies, where wondering or rather being greatly astonished at the sight that I saw, I fixed mine eyes advisedly upon the shape of the dead corpse: I set the bones in order, I joined the hands together, and set the lips in their proper places, and spake thus secretly to myself. Behold these feet, that have travailed such crooked paths, and ways: These hands also, that have committed so many wicked acts: These eyes, that have beheld so many vanities: This mouth, that hath eaten and devoured so many delicate, and superfluous meats. Behold this skull of his head, that hath built so many vain castles, and towers in the air: This dust, and filthy skin for whose pleasure, and delight he hath committed so many sins, and wickedness: and for which cause the soul of this body doth and shall perhaps suffer everlasting horrible torments in hell fire. This done, I departed out of that place wholly astonied, and amazed: and meeting with certain persons both men, and women, young, and old, I beheld them likewise, and considered, that both they and I should shortly appear in the like ugly form, and seem as vile, and loathsome to behold, as those dead bodies are now presently. Wherefore what a fond wicked wretch am I to live in such wise as I do? To what end is my purchasing, and heaping together of lands, and riches, and my building of such sumptuous houses, seeing I shall shortly be here so poor, and naked? To what end are my gay braveries, and gorgeous ornaments in my apparel, and furniture of household stuff, seeing I shall shortly be here so filthy, and loathsome to behold? To what end are my delicate dishes, my sugared sauces, and dainty fare, seeing I shall shortly be here meat for the worms and maggots of the earth?
OF THE WAY, THAT THE SOUL TAKETH after it is departed out of the body: and of the dreadful judgement, and sentence, that shall be given upon it at that time.
Statutum est hominibus semel mori, post hoc autem Judicium.
Hebr.9.vers.27.
Omne verbum otiosum quod loquti fuerint homines reddent rationem de eo in die Judicii.
Matth.12.vers.36.
Let us now leave the body lying thus buried in the grave, and let us see what way the soul taketh through that new world, which is as it were an other hemisphere, where it findeth a new heaven, a new earth, an other kind of life, and an other manner of understanding, and knowledge. The soul then after it is departed out of the body entereth into this new region, where those that by living never entered: a place full of fear and terror, and of shadows of death. But now what shall this new stranger do in this so strange a country, unless it be so, that he hath deserved in this life to have the guard and defense of Angels for this time. O my soul (saith St. Bernard) what a terrible day shall that be, when thou shalt enter all alone into that unknown region, where those hellish monsters that are so horrible and ugly to behold, shall encounter and assault thee in the way? Who will then take thy part? Who will then defend thee? Who will then deliver thee from those ramping lions, which being raging mad for hunger, do lie there in wait to devour thee?
Undoubtedly this is a very fearful way, but the judgement that shall then so solemnly be given, is far more terrible. Who is able: to declare, how strait the decision of this particular judgment shall be? How righteous the judge? How busy, and solicitous the devils our accusers? How few intercessors on our side? What a particular examination shall then be made of every point of our accompt? And what a long process shall be drawn of all our whole life? And as our Savior affirmeth: We must then render an accompt of every idle word. Wherefore, if the just man (as St. Peter saith) shall hardly be saved, where shall the sinner and wicked man shew themselves? It is a thing truly very worthy to be noted, that whereas a man would think that those things that we have most loved, and for which we have taken most pains, should most help us in this great distress, it falleth out quite contrary. For they shall not only not help us, but also be an occasion at that time of more pain and grief unto us. The thing that Absalom loved, and esteemed above all things was his goodly hair of his head, and that very hair almighty God ordained by his just judgement to be the cause of his death. Now the very same judgement is prepared for all wicked persons at that hour: that those things that every man most loved in this life, and for which he committed most heinous offences against almighty God, the very same things shall make his accompt more doubtful, and be occasion of greater torment unto him. There shall our children (whom we sought to enrich, not passing whether it were by right or wrong) accuse us. There shall the naughty harlot (for whose wanton love we have broken the laws and commandments of almighty God,) plead against us. There shall our lands, our goods, or offices, our dignities, our pleasures, and delights, (which were our idols) be our hangmen, and torment us most cruelly. There shall almighty God give judgement upon all the gods of Egypt, ordaining the matter in such sort, that those very things wherein we have put all our glory, shall at that time be the cause of our ruin.
Now if the severity of the dreadful sentence of almighty God be answerable to our sins, Alas, who shall be able to abide it? One of those ancient holy fathers that lived in the wilderness was wont to say, that of three things he lived continually in great fear. The first was, when his soul should depart out of his body. The second, when it should be presented before the judgement seat of almighty God. The third, when the sentence of his cause should be given, and pronounced. But now (which is most terrible of all) what if almighty God shall give this most terrible sentence against thee, that thou shalt be damned for ever and ever to the horrible torments of hell fire, there to continue infinite millions of years, and world without end? In what a terrible strait shalt thou then be? What sorrow? What grief? What anguish shalt thou then feel? Again, what joy, and triumphs, will the devils thine enemies make at that time? Then shall that sentence of the Prophet be fulfilled: saying: All thine enemies shall open their mouths upon thee, they shall laugh thee to scorn, and gnash their teeth at thee, and say: we will devour him: this is the day we have so long looked for, we have found him, we have espied him.
But thou O sweet Jesus, Illuminate the eyes of my soul (I beseech thee) that I sleep not in death, that mine enemy may never say: I have prevailed against him. Amen.
OF PRAYER AND MEDITATION 