XVII. Nunc lento sonitu
dicunt, morieris.
(Now, this bell tolling
softly far another, says to me: Thou must die.)
XVII. MEDITATION.
PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he
knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so much
better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state,
may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The church
is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does
belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me;
for that child is thereby connected to that body which is my head
too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member. And when
she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one
author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not
torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and
every chapter must be so translated; God employs several
translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness,
some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every
translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves
again for that library where every book shall lie open to one
another. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not upon
the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this bell
calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the door
by this sickness. There was a contention as far as a suit (in which
both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled),
which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the
morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that
rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of this bell that
tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours by
rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as
his, whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him that thinks it
doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute that that
occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his
eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes off his eye from a comet
when that breaks out? Who bends not his ear to any bell which upon
any occasion rings? but who can remove it from that bell which is
passing a piece of himself out of this world?
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of
the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the
sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as
if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death
diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never
send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee. Neither
can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as
though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in
more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our
neighbours. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did, for
affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No
man hath affliction enough that is not matured and ripened by and
made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in
bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current
money, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation
is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the
use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it.
Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction
may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him;
but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies
that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take
mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my
recourse to my God, who is our only security.