Works of Joseph Hall, Section 17
SECT. XVII.
Remedy of the laſt and greateſt breach of peace, ariſing from death.NOw when this great Aduerſary, like a proud Giant, comes ſtalking out in his fearefull ſhape, and inſults ouer our fraile mortalitie, daring the world to match him with an equall Champion, whiles a whole hoſt of worldlings ſhew him their backs for feare, the true Chriſtian (armed onelyonly with confidence and reſolution of his future happineſſe) dares boldly encounter him, and can wound him in the forehead (the wonted ſeat of terror) and trampling vponupon him, can cut off his head with his owne ſword, and victoriouſly returning, can ſing in triumph, O death, where is thy ſting? An happy victory! Wee die, and are not foiled: yea, we are conquerours in dying: we could not ouercome death, if we died not. That diſſolution is well beſtowed, that parts the ſoule from the body, that it may vnite both to God. All our life here (as that heauenly Doctor well tearmes it) is but a vitall death.Auguſtine. How aduant…gious is that death that determines this falſe and dying life, and begins a true one, aboue all the titles of happineſſe! The Epicure or Sadduce dare not die, for feare of not being. The guiltie and looſe worldling dares not die, for feare of being miſerable. The diſtruſtfull and doubting ſemi-Chriſtian dares not die, becauſe he knowes not, whether hee ſhall be, or be miſerable, or not be at all. The reſolued Chriſtian dares, and would die, becauſe he knowes he ſhall be happy; and looking merrily towards heauen (the place of his reſt) can vnfainedly ſay, I deſire to be diſſolued: I ſee thee, my home, I ſee thee, (a ſweet and glorious home, after a weary pilgrimage) I ſee thee; and now after many lingring hopes, I aſpire to thee. How oft hauehave I looked vp at thee, with admiration and rauiſhment of ſoule! and by the goodly beames that I hauehave ſeene, gheſſed at the glory that is aboue them! How oft hauehave I ſcorned theſe dead and vnpleaſant pleaſures of earth, in compariſon of thine! I come now, my ioyes, I come to poſſeſſe you: I come through paine and death; yea if hell it ſelfe were in the way betwixt you and mee, I would paſſe through hell it ſelfe to enioy you.Tull. Tuſcul. Callimach. Epigram. And (in truth) if that Heathen Cleombrotus (a follower of the ancient Academie) but vponupon onelyonly reading of his Maſter Platoes diſcourſes of the immortalitie of the ſoule, could caſt downe himſelfe head-long from an high rocke, and wilfully breake his necke, that he might be poſſeſſed of that immortalitie which he beleeued to follow vponupon death; how contented ſhould they be to die, that knew they ſhall be (more than immortall) glorious? Hee went, not in an hate of the fleſh,Auguſt. de Haereſ. as the Patrician Heretickes of old; but in a blinde louelove to his ſoule, out of bare opinion: We, vponupon an holy louelove grounded vponupon aſſured knowledge. He, vponupon an opinion of future life: we on knowledge of future glory. He went, vnſent for; we, called for by our Maker. Why ſhould his courage exceed ours, ſince our ground, our eſtate ſo farre exceeds his? Euen this age, within the reach of our memorie, bred that peremptory Italian, which in imitation of old Romane courage (left, in that degenerated Nation, there ſhould be no ſtep left of the qualities of their Anceſtors) entring vponupon his torment for killing a Tyrant, cheered himſelfe with this confidence; My death is ſharpe:Mors acerba, Fama perpetua. my fame ſhall be euerlaſting. The voice of a Romane, not of a Chriſtian. My fame ſhall be eternall: an idle comfort. My fame ſhall liue; not my ſoule liue to ſee it. What ſhall it auaile thee to be talkt of, while thou art not? Then fame onelyonly is precious, when a man liues to enioy it. The fame that ſuruiues the ſoule, is bootleſſe. Yet euen this hope cheered him againſt the violence of his death. What ſhould it doe vsus, that (not our fame, but) our life, our glory after death, cannot die? He that hath Stephens eies to looke into heauen, cannot but hauehave the tongue of the Saints, Come Lord: How long? That man, ſeeing the glory of the end, cannot but contemne the hardneſſe the way. But who wants thoſe eies, if he ſay and ſweares that he feares not death, beleeue him not: if he proteſt this Tranquillitie, and yet feare death, beleeue him not: beleeue him not, if he ſay he is not miſerable.