XVI. MEDITATION.

We have a convenient author,[234] who writ a discourse of bells when he

was prisoner in Turkey. How would he have enlarged himself if he had

been my fellow-prisoner in this sick bed, so near to that steeple which

never ceases, no more than the harmony of the spheres, but is more

heard. When the Turks took Constantinople, they melted the bells into

ordnance; I have heard both bells and ordnance, but never been so much

affected with those as with these bells. I have lain near a steeple[235]

in which there are said to be more than thirty bells, and near another,

where there is one so big, as that the clapper is said to weigh more

than six hundred pounds,[236] yet never so affected as here. Here the

bells can scarce solemnize the funeral of any person, but that I knew

him, or knew that he was my neighbour: we dwelt in houses near to one

another before, but now he is gone into that house into which I must

follow him. There is a way of correcting the children of great persons,

that other children are corrected in their behalf, and in their names,

and this works upon them who indeed had more deserved it. And when these

bells tell me, that now one, and now another is buried, must not I

acknowledge that they have the correction due to me, and paid the debt

that I owe? There is a story of a bell in a monastery[237] which, when

any of the house was sick to death, rung always voluntarily, and they

knew the inevitableness of the danger by that. It rung once when no man

was sick, but the next day one of the house fell from the steeple and

died, and the bell held the reputation of a prophet still. If these

bells that warn to a funeral now, were appropriated to none, may not I,

by the hour of the funeral, supply? How many men that stand at an

execution, if they would ask, For what dies that man? should hear their

own faults condemned, and see themselves executed by attorney? We scarce

hear of any man preferred, but we think of ourselves that we might very

well have been that man; why might not I have been that man that is

carried to his grave now? Could I fit myself to stand or sit in any

man's place, and not to lie in any man's grave? I may lack much of the

good parts of the meanest, but I lack nothing of the mortality of the

weakest; they may have acquired better abilities than I, but I was born

to as many infirmities as they. To be an incumbent by lying down in a

grave, to be a doctor by teaching mortification by example, by dying,

though I may have seniors, others may be older than I, yet I have

proceeded apace in a good university, and gone a great way in a little

time, by the furtherance of a vehement fever, and whomsoever these bells

bring to the ground to-day, if he and I had been compared yesterday,

perchance I should have been thought likelier to come to this

preferment then than he. God hath kept the power of death in his own

hands, lest any man should bribe death. If man knew the gain of death,

the ease of death, he would solicit, he would provoke death to assist

him by any hand which he might use. But as when men see many of their

own professions preferred, it ministers a hope that that may light upon

them; so when these hourly bells tell me of so many funerals of men like

me, it presents, if not a desire that it may, yet a comfort whensoever

mine shall come.

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