A spirituall consolacyon vvritten by Iohn Fyssher Bishop of Rochester, to his sister Elizabeth

SIster Elizabeth, nothing doth more help effectuallye to get a good and a vertuous lyfe. Then if a soule when it is dull and vnlustie without deuotion, neyther disposed to prayer, nor to any other good worke, may be sturred or quickened agayne by fruiteful meditacion. I haue therfore deuised vnto you this meditation that followeth. Praying you for my sake and for the weale of your owne soule, to reade it at suche tymes as you shall feele your selfe most heauie and slouthfull to doe any good worke. It is a maner of lamentacion and sorowfull complaynyng made in the person of one that was hastily preuented by death, (as I assure you euery creature may be) none other suretie we haue, liuing in this worlde héere. But if you will haue any profite by reading of it, thrée things you must do in any wise. First when you shall reade this meditation, deuise in your mynde as nigh as you can, all the conditions of a man or woman sodaynlye taken and rauyshed by death: and thynke[…] wyth your selfe that yée were in the same condition so hastily taken, and that incontinent you must néedes dye, and your soule depart hence, & leaue your mortall bodie, neuer to returne again for to make any amendes, or to doe any release to your soule after this houre.

Seconly, that yée neuer reade thys meditation but alone by your selfe in secrete maner, where you maye be most attentyue therevnto. And when ye haue the best leasure without any let of other thoughtes or buzinesse. For if you otherwyse behaue your selfe in the reading of it, it shall anon lose the vertue and quicknesse in stirring and mouing of your soule when you woulde ratherest haue it sturred.

Thirdly, that when you intende to read it, you must afore lifte vp your minde to almightie God, and beséech him that by the helpe and succour of his grace the readyng thereof may fruitfully worke in your soule a good and vertuous life, according to hys pleasure and say, Deus in adiutorium meum intende, Domine adiuvandum me festina. Gloria patri. &c. Laus tibi domine rex eternae glorie. Amen.

Alas, alas, I am vnworthily takē, all sodaynly death hath assayled me, the paynes of his stroake be so sore and gréeuous that I may not longe endure thē, my last home I perceiue well is come. I must now leaue thys mortall bodie, I must nowe departe hence out of this world neuer to returne againe into it. But whether I shall goe, or where I shall become, or what lodgyng I shall haue thys night, or in what company I shal fal, or in what countrey I shall be receiued, or in what maner I shall be entreated, God knoweth for I knowe not. What if I shall be dampned in the perpetuall prysō of hell, where be paynes endelesse and without number. Gréeuous it shall be to them that be dampned for euer, for they shall be as men in moste extreame paynes of death, euer wishing and desiryng death, and yet neuer shall they dye. It should be nowe vnto mée muche wearie, one yeare continually to lye vpon a bed were it neuer so soft, how weary then shall it be to lye in the most painefull fyre so many thousād of yeares without number? And to be in that most horrible company of diuils most terrible to beholde, full of malice and crueltie. O wretched and miserable creature yt I am, I might so haue liued and so ordered my lyfe by the helpe and grace of my Lorde Christ Iesu, yt this houre might haue bene vnto mée much ioyous & greatly desired. Many blessed & holy Sayncts were full ioyous and desirous of this houre, for they knewe well that by death their soules shuld be trāslated into a new life: To the life of all ioye and endlesse pleasure, frō ye streightes and bōdage of this corruptible body, into a very libertie and true fréedom mong the company of heauen, frō the miseries & gréeuāces of this wretched world, to be aboue with God in comfort inestimable yt can not be spoken ne thought. They were assured of ye promises of almightie god which had so promised to all them that bée hys faithfull seruauntes. And sure I am that if I had truly & faithfully serued him vnto thys houre, my soule had bene partner of these promises. But vnhappie & vngracious creature that I am, I haue bene negligent in hys seruice, and therefore now my harte doeth waste in sorowes séeing ye nighnesse of death, and considering my great slouth & negligence. I thought full little thus sodainly to haue bene trapped: But (alas) now death hath preuented me, and hath vnwarily attached mée, & sodainly oppressed mée with his mightie power, so that I know not whither I may turne mee for succour, nor where I may séeke now for helpe, ne what thing I may doe to get any remedy: If I myght haue leasure and space to repent mée and amende my lyfe, not compelled with this sodayne stroake but of my owne frée will and libertie, and partly for the loue of God, putting asyde all slouth & negligence. I might then safely dye wtout any dread, I might then be glad to departe hence and leaue my manifold miseries & encombraūces of this world. But how may I think that my repentance or mine amendement commeth now of myne own frée will, sith I was before thys stroake so colde and dull in the seruice of my Lord God. Or howe may I thinke that I doe this more rather for his loue, then for feare of his punyshement, when if I had truelye loued hym, I should more quickely and more diligently haue serued him héeretofore? Mée séemeth now that I caste away my slouth and neglygence compelled by force. Euen as a Merchaunt that is compelled by a greate tempest in the sea to cast his merchandice out of the Shippe, it is not to bée supposed that hée would cast away his ryches of hys owne frée will, not compelled by the storme? And euen so lykewyse doe I if thys tempeste of death were not now raysed vppon mée, it is full like that I would not haue cast from me my slouth and negligence. O woulde to God that I might nowe haue some farther respet, and some longer tyme to amend my self of my frée will and libertie. O if I might entreat death to spare me for a season, but that will not bée, death in no wise will be entreated, delay he will none take, respet he will none giue, if I would giue him all the ryches of this worlde, no if all my louers and friends would fall vppon their knées and pray him for mée. No if I & they would wéepe (if it wer so possible) as many teares as there be in the seas droppes of water, no pietie may restraine him. (Alas) when oportunitie of tyme was, I would not vse it well, which if I had done, it would nowe bée vnto mée more precyous then all the treasures of a Realme. For then my soule as nowe should haue béene cloathed wyth good workes innumerable, the which shuld make mée not to be ashamed when I should come to the presence of my Lorde God, where now I shall appeare loaden with sinne myserably, to my confusion & shame. But (alas) to negligently haue I letted passe frō me my tyme not regardyng howe precious it was, ne yet howe muche spirituall riches I might haue gottē therein, if I would haue put my diligence and studie thervnto. For assuredly no déede that is be it neuer so little, but it shall be rewarded of almightie God. One draught of water giuen for the loue of God, shal not be vnrewarded: And what is more easie to be giuen thē water. But not onely déedes, but also the least wordes and thoughtes shall be in likewise. O how many good thoughtes, déeds, and workes might one thinke, speak, and doe, in one day? But how many more in one whole yere. O (alas) my great negligence, O (alas) my foule blindnesse, O (alas) my sinfull madnesse that knew this well, and would not put it in effectuall executiō. O if now all ye people of this world were present héere to sée & know the perillous condition that I am in, & howe I am preuented by the stroake of death, I would exhort to take me as an example to them all, & while they haue leasure and time to order their liues and caste from them slouth and idlenesse, & to repent them of their misbehauior towardes God, and to bewayle their offences, to multiplye good workes, and to let no tyme passe by them vnfruitfully. For if it shall please my Lorde God that I might any longer liue, I would otherwyse exercise my self then I haue done before. Now I wishe that I may haue time and space, but rightuously I am denyed. For when I might haue had it I would not well vse it: And therfore now when I would well vse it, I shall not haue it. O ye therefore that haue and may vse this precyous tyme in your libertie, imploy it wel, and be not to wastfull thereof, least peraduenture when you would haue it, it shall be denyed you likewise, as now it is to mée. But now I repent me full sore of my great negligence, and right much I sorow that so little I regarded the wealth & profit of my soule, but rather tooke héede to the vayne comfortes and pleasures of my wretched bodie. O corruptible bodie, O stinking carion, O rotten earth to whom I haue serued, whose appetites I haue followed, whose desire I haue procured, now doest thou appeare what thou arte in thy own likenesse. That brightnesse of thy eyes, that quicknesse in hearing, that lyuelinesse in thy other sences by naturall warmenesse, thy swiftnesse and nimblenesse, thy fayrenesse and bewtie. All these thou hast not of thy self, they were but lent vnto thée for a season, euen as a wall of earth that is fayre painted without for a season with freshe and goodly colours, and also gylted with golde, it appeareth goodly for the tyme to suche as consider no déeper then the outward crafte thereof. But when at the last the colour faileth, and the gilting falleth away, then appeareth it in hys owne lykenesse. For then the earth playnely sheweth it selfe. In lykewise my wretched bodie for the time of youth it appeareth fresh and lustie, and I was deceyued with the outwarde bewtie thereof, little considering what naughtinesse was couered vnderneath: but now it sheweth it selfe. Now my wretched bodye, thy bewtie is faded, thy fayrenesse is gonne, thy lust, thy strength, thy lyuelinesse all is gonne, all is fayled: Nowe arte thou then returned to thyne owne earthly coolour: Now arte thou blacke, colde, & heauie, lyke a lumpe of earth: Thy sight is darkened, thy hearyng is dulled, thy tongue flaltereth in thy mouth, and corruption issueth out of euery parte of thée: Corruption was thy beginnyng in the wombe of thy mother, and corruption is thy continuaunce. All thyng that euer thou receyuest, were it neuer so precyous, thou turnest into corruption, and naught came from thée at any tyme but corruption, and now to corruptiō thy selfe returnest: altogyther ryght vile & lothly art yu becom, wher in apparāce before yu wast goodly, but ye good lines was nothīg els but as a paintīg or a gilting vppō an earthē wal, vnder it was couered with stinking & filthy matter. But I looked not so déepe, I contented my self with the outward painting, & in yt I tooke great plesure: For all my studie & care was aboute thée, either to apparel thée with some cloathes of diuers colours, eyther to satisfie thy desire in pleasaūt sightes, in delectable hearinges, in goodlye smelles, in sundrie maner of tastings & touchings, either els to get thée ease and rest aswel in sléepe as otherwise. And prouided therfore pleasaunt and delectable lodgings, and to eschue tediousnesse in all these, not onely lodgings but also in apparell, meates and drinkes procured many and dyuers chaunges, that when thou wast weary of one, then mightest thou cō tēt thy self with some other. O (alas) this was my vaine and naughtie studie whervnto my wit was ready applied, in those things I spent the most part of my dayes. And yet was I neuer content long, but murmuring or grudging euery hour for one thing or other. And what am I now ye better for all this? what reward may I loke for of all my long seruice? Or what great benifites shall I receiue for all my great studie, care, and diligence? Nothing better am I but muche the worse, much corruption and filth my soule thereby hath gathered, so that now it is made full horrible & lothely to beholde. Rewarde get I none other then punishment, either in Hell euerlasting, or at the least in Purgatorie, if I may so easily escape. The benifites of my labour are the great cares and sorowes which I now am wrapped in: May not I thinke my wit to haue ben well occupied in this lewde and vnfruitful buzinesse? haue not I wel bestowed my labour about this seruice of my wretched bodye? hath not my tyme bene well imploy […] […] miserable studies, wherof now no comfort remayneth, but onely sorow & repentance. (Alas) I heard full often that such as shuld be dampned, should gréeuouslye repent them selues, and take more displeasure of their misbehauior then euer they had pleasure before. And yet that repentance then should stande them in no stéede, where a full little repentance takē in tyme might haue eased them of all their paines. This I heard and read full often, but full little héede or regarde I gaue thervnto, I well perceyued it in my selfe, but all to late I dread me. I woulde that nowe by the example of me all other might beware, and avoyde by the gracious helpe of God these daungers that I now am in, and prepare them selues against the houre of death better thē I haue prepared me. (Alas) what auayleth mee nowe anye delicacie of meates and drinkes which my wretched bodie insaciabl[…] dyd deuoure? What auayleth my vanitie or pryde that I had in my selfe eyther of apparel or of any other thing […] vnto me? what auayleth […] and vncleane delightes and lustes of the stincking flesh, wherein was appearance of much pleasure, but in very déede none other then the Sowe hath, waultering hir self in ye myerie puddle. Now these pleasures be gon my body is nothing better, my soule is much the worse, and nothyng remayneth but sorow and displeasure and yt a thousand fold more thē euer I had any pleasure before. O lewde bodie & naughtie which hast brought me to this vtter discomfort, O dyrtie corruption, O sachell full of dunge, now must I goe to make answere for thy lewdenesse, thy lewdenesse I say for it all commeth of thée. My soule had nothing néede of such things as was thy desire, what néede my soule that is immortall, eyther cloathyng or meate or drink? what néede it any corruptible gold or siluer? what néed it any houses or beddes, or any other things yt appertayneth to these. For thée O corruptible body which lyke a rotten wall dayly néedeth reprati […]ns and botching vp with meate and drinke, and defence of cloathyng against colde and heate was all thys studie and diligence taken, and yet now wilte thou forsake mée at my most néede, when accompt and reckoning of all our misdéedes must be gyuen before the throne of the Iudge most terrible. Now thou wilt refuse me and leaue mée to the ieoperdie of all this matter. O (alas) many yeares of deliberation suffice not before so great a Iudge to make answer which shall examyne me of euerie idle word that euer passed my mouth. O then howe many idle wordes, how many euill thoughtes, howe many déedes haue I to make answere for, & such as we set but at lyght, full greatlye shall be weyed in the presence of hys most high maiestie. O (alas) what may I doe to get some helpe at thys most daungerous houre? Wher may I séeke for succour? Where may I resorte for any comforte? My body forsaketh me, my pleasures be vanyshed away as the smoke, my goods will not goe wyth mée. All these worldly things I must leaue behinde mée: if any comforte shall be, either it muste bee in the prayers of my friendes, or in myne own good déeds that I haue done before. But as for my good déedes that shoulde be auayleable in the sight of God: (alas) they bée fewe or none that I can thynke to bee auayleable, they must bee donne pryncipallye and purely for his loue. But my déedes when of their kynde they were good, yet did I linger them by my folly. For eyther I did them for the pleasure of men, or to auoyde the shame of the world, or els for my owne affection, or els for dreade of punishment. So that seldome I dyd any good déed in that puritie and streaightnesse that it ought of ryght to haue bene done. And my misdéedes, my lewde déedes that be shamefull and abhominable be without number, not one day of all my lyfe, no not one houre I trow was so truely expended to the pleasure of God, but many déeds, words, and thoughtes, miscaped me in my lyfe. (Alas) little trust then may I haue vppon my déedes. And as for the prayers of my friendes suche as I shall leaue behynde mée, of them manye peraduenture bée in the same néede that I am in. So that where theyr owne prayers myght profytte them selues, they can not so profitte an other. And many of them will bee full neglygente, and some forgetfull of mée. And no meruaile, for who shoulde haue béene more friendly vnto mée then myne owne selfe. Therefore I that was most bounden to haue done for my selfe, forget my owne weale in my lyfe tyme, no meruaile therefore if other doo forget me after my departing hence. Other friendes there be by whose prayers soules may be holpen, as by the blessed and holy saincts aboue in heauen, which verely will be myndfulll of such as in earth here haue deuoutly honored them before. But (alas) I had special deuotion but to a fewe, & yet them I haue so faintly honored, and to them so coldly sued for fauour, that I am ashamed to aske ayde or helpe of them. At thys tyme in déede, I had more effectually ment to haue honored them, & more diligently to haue commended my wretched soule vnto their prayers, and so to haue made them my special friendes: but nowe death hath preuented me so, that no other hope remayneth but onely in the mercye of my Lord God, to whose mercy I doe now offer my self, beséeching him not to looke vppon my desertes, but vppō his infinite goodnesse and abundaunt pietie. (Alas) my dutie had bene much better to haue remembred this terrible houre, I should haue had this daū ger euer before my eyes, I shoulde haue prouided therefore, so that now I might haue bene in a more readynesse against the comming of death, which I knew assuredly would come at the last, albeit I knew not when, where, or by what maner, but well I knewe euery houre and moment, was to him indifferent, and in his libertie. And yet my madnesse euer to be sorowed. Notwithstanding thys vncertaintie of his comming, and the vncertaintie of the tyme thereof, I made no certayne nor sure prouision against this houre. Full often I tooke great studie and care to prouyde for litle daūgers, only bicause I thought they might hap, and yet happed they neuer a deale. And but tryfles they were in comparisō of this, how much rather should I haue taken study and care for this so great a daūger which I knew wel must necessarily fall vnto mée once. For thys can not be eschued in no wyse, and vppon thys I ought to haue made good prouision: For in this hangeth all our wealth, for if a man dye well, he shall after his death nothing want yt he would desire, but his appetite shall be saciate in euerie poynte at the full. And if he dye amisse, no prouysion shall auayle him that euer he made before. This prouision therefore is most effectually to bée studied, sithens this alone may profit without other, and without thys none can auayle. O yée that haue tyme and space to make your prouisiō agaynst the houre of death, defarre not from day to day lyke as I haue done. For I often did thinke and purpose with my self that at some leasure I would haue prouided, neuerthelesse for euery tryfelous buzinesse I put it aside, and delayed thys prouysion alway to an other tyme, and promysed with my selfe that at suche a tyme I would not fayle but doe it, but when that came an other buzinesse arose, and so I deferred it agayne vnto an other tyme. And so (alas) from time to tyme, that now death in the mean tyme hath preuented mée, my purpose was good, but it lacked execution: My will was strayghte, but it was not effectuall, my mynde well intended, but no fruite came therof. All for bicause I delayed so often and neuer put it in effect, that, that I had purposed. And therefore delay it not as I haue done, but before all other buzinesse put this first in suertie, which oughte to bée chiéefe and princypall buzinesse. Neyther buildyng of Colleges, nor makyng of Sermons, nor giuing of almes, neyther yet anye other manner of buzynesse shall helpe you without this.

Therefore first and before all things prepare for thys, delaye not in any wyse, for if you doe, you shall be deceyued as I am now. I read of manye, I haue hearde of manye, I haue knowne many that were disappoynted as I am nowe. And euer I thought and sayde, & intended, that I would make sure and not be deceiued by the sodayn comming of death. Yet neuerthelesse I am now deceyued, and am taken sléeping, vnprepared, and that when I least wéened of his comming, and euen when I reckoned my selfe to be in most healthe, and when I was most buzie, and in the middest of my matters. Therfore delaye not you any farther, nor put your trust ouer much in your friends: Trust your selfe while ye haue space and libertie, and doe for your self now while you may. I would aduyse you to doe that thing that I by the grace of my Lord God would put in execution if his pleasure were to sende me longer lyfe. Recounte your selfe as dead, & thinke that your soules were in pryson of Purgatorie, & that there they must abyde till that the Raunsom for them be truly payde, eyther by long sufferance of payne there, or els by suffrages done héere in earth by some of your speciall friendes. Be y[…]u your owne friend, doe you these suffrages for your owne soule, whether they be praiers or almes déedes, or any other penitentiall paynefulnesse. If you will not effectually and hartely doe these thinges for your own soule, looke you neuer that other will doe them for you, and in dooyng them in your own persons, they shal be more auayleable to you a thousād folde then if they were done by any other: If you followe this counsayle and doe thereafter, you be gracious and blessed, and if you doe not, you shall doubtlesse repent your follyes, but to late.