Works of Joseph Hall, Chapter 37 – Title page 6
CHAP. XXXVII.
An Epilogue.THus hauehave I endeuoured (Right Worſhipfull Sir) according to my ſlender facultie, to preſcribe a method of Meditation: not vponupon ſo ſtrict tearmes of neceſſitie, that whoſoeuer goeth not my way, erreth. Diuers paths leade oft times to the ſame end; and eueryevery man aboundeth in his owne ſenſe. If experience and cuſtome hath made another forme familiar to any man, I forbid it not: as that learned Father ſaid of his Tranſlation, Let him vſe his owne, not contemne mine. If any man be to chuſe, and begin, let him practiſe mine, till he meet with a better Maſter: If another courſe may be better,Reprouing the neglect of Meditation. I am ſure this is good. Neither is it to be ſuffered, that like as fantaſticall men, while they doubt what faſhioned ſute they ſhould weare, put on nothing; ſo, that we Chriſtians ſhould neglect the matter of this worthy buſineſſe, while wee nicely ſtand vponupon the forme thereof. Wherein giuegive mee leaue to complaine with iuſt ſorrow and ſhame, that if there be any Chriſtian dutie, whoſe omiſſion is notoriouſly ſhamefull, and preiudiciall to the ſoules of Profeſſors, it is this of Meditation. This is the very end God hath giuen vsus our ſoules for: we miſſe-ſpend them, if we vſe them not thus. How lamentable is it, that we ſo imploy them, as if our facultie of diſcourſe ſerued for nothing but our earthly prouiſion? as if our reaſonable and Chriſtian minds were appointed for the ſlaues and drudges of this body, onelyonly to bee the Caters and Cookes of our Appetite?
The world filleth vsus, yea cloieth vsus: we finde our ſelues worke enough to thinke; What hauehave I yet? How may I get more? What muſt I lay out? What ſhall I leaue for poſteritie? How may I preuent the wrong of mine Aduerſary? How may I returne it? What anſwers ſhall I make to ſuch allegations? What entertainment ſhall I giuegive to ſuch friends! What courſes ſhall I take in ſuch ſuits? In what paſtime ſhall I ſpend this day? In what the next? What aduantage ſhall I reape by this practice, what loſſe? What was ſaid, anſwered, replied, done, followed?
Goodly thoughts, and fit for ſpirituall minds! Say there were no other world; how could we ſpend our cares otherwiſe? VntoUnto this onelyonly neglect, let mee aſcribe the commonneſſe of that Laodicean temper of men, or (if that be worſe) of the dead coldneſſe which hath ſtricken the hearts of many, hauing left them nothing but the bodies of men, and viſors of Chriſtians; to this onelyonly, They hauehave not meditated. It is not more impoſſible to liue without an heart, than to bee deuout without Meditation.Exhorting to the vſe of Meditation. Would God therefore my words could be in this (as the Wiſe-man ſaith the words of the wiſe are) like vntounto Goades in the ſides of eueryevery Reader, to quicken him vp out of this dull and lazie ſecuritie, to a cheerefull practice of this Diuine Meditation. Let him curſe mee vponupon his death-bed, if looking backe from thence to the beſtowing of his former times, hee acknowledge not theſe houres placed the moſt happily in his whole life; if he then wiſh not hee had worne ont more daies in ſo profitable and heauenly a worke.
A MEDITATION OF DEATH, ACCORDING to the former Rules.
The Entrance.ANd now, my ſoule, that thou haſt thought of the end, what can fit thee better than to thinke of the way? And though the forepart of the way to Heauen bee a good life, the latter and more immediate is death▪ ſhall I call it the way, or the gate of life? Sure I am, that by it onelyonly w… paſſe into that bleſſedneſſe, whereof we hauehave ſo thought, that we hauehave found it cannot be thought of enough.
The Deſcription.What then is this death, but the taking downe of theſe ſticks, whereof this earthly Tent is compoſed? The ſeparation of two great and old friends till they meet againe? The Gaole-deliuerie of a long priſoner? Our iourney into that other world, for which wee, and this thorow-fare were made? Our paiment of our firſt debt to Nature, the ſleepe of the body, and the awaking of the ſoule?
The Diuiſion.But leſt thou ſhouldeſt ſeeme to flatter him, whoſe name and face hath euer ſeemed terrible to others, remember that there are more deaths than one: If the firſt death bee not ſo fearefull as hee is made, (his horrour lying more in the conceit of the beholder, than in his owne aſpect) ſurely, the ſecond is not made ſo fearefull as hee is. No liuing eye can behold the terrours thereof: it is as impoſſible to ſee them, as to feele them, and liue. Nothing but a name is common to both: The firſt hath men, caſualties, diſeaſes, for his executioners: the ſecond, Deuils. The power of the firſt is in the graue: the ſecond, in hell. The worſt of the firſt, is ſenſleſneſſe; the eaſieſt of the ſecond, is, a perpetuall ſenſe of all the paine that can make a man exquiſitely miſerable.
The Cauſes.Thou ſhalt hauehave no buſineſſe, O my ſoule, with the ſecond death: Thy firſt Reſurrection hath ſecured thee: Thanke him that hath redeemed thee, for thy ſafetie. And how can I thanke thee enough, O my Sauiour, which haſt ſo mercifully bought off my torment, with thy owne; and haſt drunke off that bitter potion of thy Fathers wrath, whereof the very taſte had beene our death? Yea, ſuch is thy merciemercy, O thou Redeemer of men, that thou haſt not onelyonly ſubdued the ſecond death, but reconciled the firſt; ſo as thy children taſte not at all of the ſecond, and finde the firſt ſo ſweetned to them by thee, that they complaine of bitterneſſe. It was not thou, O God, that madeſt death; our hands are they that were guiltie of this euill. Thou ſaweſt all thy worke that it was good; we brought forth ſinne, and ſinne brought forth death. To the diſcharge of thy Iuſtice and MercieMercy, we acknowledge this miſerable conception; and needs muſt that childe be vgly, that hath ſuch parents. Certainly, if Being and Good be (as they are) of an equall extent, then the diſſolution of our Being muſt needs in it ſelfe be euill. How ful of darkeneſſe and horrour then is the priuation of this vitall light? eſpecially ſince thy wiſdome intended it to the reuenge of ſinne, which is no leſſe than the violation of an infinite Iuſtice? it was thy iuſt pleaſure to plague vsus with this brood of our owne begetting: Behold, that death which was not till then in the world, is now in eueryevery thing: one great Conqueror findes it in a Slate, another findes it in a Flie; one findes it in the kernel of a Grape, another in the pricke of a thorne; one in the taſte of an herbe, another in the ſmell of a flower; one in a bit of meat, another in a mouthfull of aire; one in the very ſight of a danger, another in the conceit of what might hauehave beene; Nothing in all our life is too little to hide death vnderunder it: There need no cords, nor kniues, nor ſwords, nor Peeces: we hauehave made our ſelues as many waies to death, as there are helps of liuing.
But if we were the authors of our death, it was thou that didſt alter it: our diſobedience made it, and thy merciemercy made it not to be euill. It had beene all one to thee, to hauehave taken away the very Being of death from thine owne: but thou thoughteſt it beſt to take away the ſting of it onelyonly; as good Phyſicians, when they would apply their Leeches, ſcowre them with Salt and Nettles, and when their corrupt bloud is voided, imploy them to the health of the patient. It is more glory to thee, that thou haſt remoued enmitie from this Eſau, that now he meets vsus with kiſſes in ſtead of frownes: and if wee receiue a blow from this rough hand, yet that very ſtripe is healing. Oh how much more powerfull is thy death, than our ſinne! O my Sauiour, how haſt thou perfumed and ſoftened this bed of my graue by dying? How can it grieue mee to tread in thy ſteps to glory?
Our ſinne made death our laſt enemie;The Effects. thy goodneſſe hath made it the firſt friend that we meet with, in our paſſage to another world: For as ſhee that receiues vsus from the knees of our mother, in our firſt entrance to the light, waſheth, cleanſeth, dreſſeth vsus, and preſents vsus to the breſt of our nurſe, or the armes of our mother, challenges ſome intereſt in vsus when we come to our growth; ſo death, which in our paſſage to that other life, is the firſt that receiues and preſents our naked ſoules to the hands of thoſe Angels, which carry it vp to her glorie, cannot but thinke this office friendly and meritorious. What if this guide leade my carcaſe through corruption and rottenneſſe, when my ſoule in the very inſtant of her ſeparation knowes it ſelfe happy? What if my friends mourne about my bed and coffin, when my ſoule ſees the ſmiling face and louing embracements of him that was dead, and is aliue? What care I, who ſhuts theſe earthen eyes, when death opens the eye of my ſoule, to ſee as I am ſeene? What if my name be forgotten of men, when I liue aboue with the God of Spirits?
If death would be ſtill an enemie,The Subiect. it is the worſt part of mee that he hath any thing to doe withall: the beſt is aboue his reach, and gaines more than the other can leeſe. The worſt peece of the horrour of death is the graue; and ſet aſide infidelitie, what ſo great miſerie is this? That part which is corrupted, feeles it not; that which is free from corruption, feeles an abundant recompence, and foreſees a ioyfull reparation. What is here but a iuſt reſtitution? We carry heauen and earth wrapt vp in our boſomes; each part returnes homeward: And if the exceeding glory of heauen cannot countetuaile the doleſomneſſe of the graue, what doe I beleeuing? But if the beautie of that celeſtiall Sanctuarie doe more than equalize the horrour of the bottomleſſe pit, how can I ſhrinke at earth like my ſelfe, when I know my glorie? And if examples can moue thee any whit, looke behinde thee, O my ſoule, and ſee which of the Worthies of that ancient latter world, which of the Patriarchs, Kings, Prophets, Apoſtles, hauehave not trod in theſe red ſteps. Where are thoſe millions of generations, which hauehave hitherto peopled the earth? How many paſſing-bels haſt thou heard for they knowne friends? How many ſicke beds haſt thou viſited? How many eies haſt thou ſeene cloſed? How many vaine men haſt thou ſeene that hauehave gone into the field to ſeeke death, in hope to finde an honour as fooliſh as themſelues? How many poore creatures haſt thou mulcted with death for thine owne pleaſure? And canſt thou hope that that God will make a by-way and a Poſterne for thee alone, that thou maieſt paſſe to the next world, not by the gates of death, not by the bottome of the graue?
What then doeſt thou feare, O my ſoule? There are but two ſtages of death,The Adiunct. the bed and the graue: This latter, if it hauehave ſenſleſneſſe, yet it hath reſt: The former, if it hauehave paine, yet it hath ſpeedineſſe; and when it lights vponupon a faithfull heart, meets with many and ſtrong antidotes of comfort. The euill that is euer in motion, is not fearefull: That which both time and eternitie finde ſtanding where it was, is worthy of terrour. Well may thoſe tremble at death, which finde more diſtreſſe within, than without, whoſe conſciences are more ſicke, and neerer to death, than their bodies. It was thy Fathers wrath that did ſo terrifie thy ſoule, O my Sauiour, that it put thy body into a bloudy ſweat. The mention and thought of thy death ended in a Pſalme, but this began in an agonie. Then didſt thou ſweat out my feares. The power of that agonie doth more comfort all thine, than the Angels could comfort thee. That very voice deſerued an eternall ſeparation of horrour from death, where thou ſaidſt, My God, my God, why haſt thou forſaken me? Thou hadſt not complained of being left, if thou wouldeſt hauehave any of thine left deſtitute of comfort in their parting. I know not whom I can feare, while I know whom I hauehave beleeued; how can I be diſcouraged with the ſight of my loſſe, when I ſee ſo cleere an aduantage?
The Contrary.What diſcomfort is this, to leaue a fraile body, to bee ioyned vntounto a glorious head? To forſake vaine pleaſures, falſe honours, bootleſſe hopes, vnſatisfying wealth, ſtormie contentments, ſinfull men, perillous tentations, a ſea of troubles, a gallie of ſeruitude, an euill world, and a conſuming life; for Freedome, Reſt, Happineſſe, Eternitie? And if thou wert ſentenced, O my ſoule, to liue a thouſand yeeres in this body, with theſe infirmities, how wouldeſt thou be wearie, not of being only, but of complaining? Whiles, ere the firſt hundred, I ſhould bee a childe; ere the ſecond, a beaſt; a ſtone, ere the third; and therefore ſhould be ſo farre from finding pleaſure in my continuance, that I ſhould not hauehave ſenſe enough left, to feele my ſelfe miſerable. And when I am once gone, what difference is there betwixt the agedſt of the firſt Patriarchs, and mee, and the childe that did but liue to be borne, ſaue onelyonly in what was; and that which was, is not? And if this body had no weakneſſe, to make my life tedious, yet what a torment is it, that while I liue, I muſt ſinne? Alas, my ſoule, eueryevery one of thy knowne ſinnes, is not a diſeaſe, but a death. What an enemie art thou to thy ſelfe, if thou canſt not bee content, that one bodily death ſhould excuſe thee from many ſpirituall; to caſt off thy body, that thou maieſt be ſtripped of the ragges, yea the fetters of thy ſinne, and cloathed with the Robes of glorie? Yet theſe termes are too hard: Thou ſhalt not bee caſt off, O my body; rather thou ſhalt be put to making: this change is no leſſe happy for thee, than for thy partner. This very skinne of thine, which is now tawnie, and wrinkled, ſhall once ſhine; this earth ſhall bee heauen, this duſt ſhall bee glorious. Theſe eyes, that are now wearie of being witneſſes of thy ſinnes and miſeries, ſhall then neuer be wearie of ſeeing the beautie of thy Sauiour, and thine owne in his. Theſe eares, that hauehave beene now tormented with the impious tongues of men; ſhall firſt heare the voice of the Sonne of God, and then the voices of Saints and Angels in their ſongs of Alleluia. And this tongue, that now complaines of miſeries, and feares, ſhall then beare a part in that diuine harmonie.
The compariſons.In the meane time, thou ſhalt but ſleepe in this bed of earth: hee that hath tried the worſt of death, hath called it no worſe; very Heathens hauehave termed them couſins; and it is no vnuſuall thing for couſins of bloud, to carrie both the ſame names, and features. Haſt thou wont, O my body, when the day hath wearied thee, to lie downe vnwillingly to thy reſt? Behold in this ſleepe there is more quietneſſe, more pleaſure of viſions, more certaintie of waking, more cheerefulneſſe in riſing: why then art thou loth to thinke of laying off thy ragges, and repoſing thy ſelfe? Why art thou like a childe, vnwilling to goe to bed? Haſt thou euer ſeene any bird, which when the cage hath beene opened, would rather ſit ſtill, and ſing within her grates, than flie forth vntounto her freedome in the woods? Haſt thou euer ſeene any priſoner, in louelove with his bolts and fetters? Did the Chiefe of the Apoſtles, when the Angell of God ſhined in his Iayle, and ſtrooke him on the ſide, and looſed his two chaines, and bade him, Ariſe quickly, and opened both the woodden, and Iron gate, ſay, What, ſo ſoone? yet, a little ſleepe? What madneſſe had it beene, rather to ſlumber betwixt his two Keepers, than to follow the Angell of God into libertie? Haſt thou euer ſeene any Mariner that hath ſaluted the ſea with ſongs, and the Hauen with teares? What ſhall I ſay to this diffidence, O my ſoule, that thou art vnwilling to thinke of reſt after thy toile, of freedome after thy durance, of the Hauen after an vnquiet and tempeſtuous paſſage? How many are there that ſeeke death, and cannot finde it? meerely out of the irkſomeneſſe of life. Hath it found thee, and offered thee better conditions, not of immunitie from euils, but of poſſeſſion of more good, than thou canſt thinke, and wouldeſt thou now flie from happineſſe, to be rid of it?
What? Is it a name that troubles thee? what if men would call ſleepe death,The Names. wouldſt thou be afraid to cloſe thine eies? what hurt is it then, if he that ſent the firſt ſleepe vponupon man, whileſt hee made him an helper, ſend this laſt and ſoundeſt ſleepe vponupon mee, whiles he prepares my ſoule for a glorious Spouſe to himſelfe? It is but a parting, which we call death; as two friends, when they hauehave lead each other on the way, ſhake hands till they returne from their iourney: If either could miſcarry, there were cauſe of ſorrow; now they are more ſure of a meeting, than of a parture; what folly is it, not to be content to redeeme the vnſpeakable gaine of ſo deare a friend; with a little intermiſſion of enioying him? He will returne laden with the riches of heauen, and will fetch his old partner to the participation of this glorious wealth. Goe then, my Soule, to this ſure and gainefull traffique, and leaue my other halfe in an harbour as ſafe, though not ſo bleſſed; yet ſo ſhalt thou be ſeparated, that my very duſt ſhall be vnited to thee ſtill, and to my Sauiour in thee.
Wert thou vnwilling at the command of thy Creator to ioine thy ſelfe at the firſt with this body of mine? why art thou then loth to part with that, which thou haſt found,The Teſtimonies. though intire, yet troubleſome? Doeſt thou not heare Salomon ſay, The day of death is better than the day of thy birth? doſt thou not beleeue him? or art thou in louelove with the worſe, and diſpleaſed with the better? If any man could hauehave found a life worthy to be preferred vntounto death, ſo great a King muſt needs hauehave done it; now in his very Throne, he commends his Coffin. Yea, what wilt thou ſay to thoſe Heathens, that mourned at the birth, and feaſted at the death of their children? They knew the miſeries of liuing as well as thou, the happineſſe of dying they could not know; and if they reioiced out of a conceit of ceaſing to be miſerable; how ſhouldeſt thou cheere thy ſelfe in an expectation, yea an aſſurance of being happy? He that is the Lord of life, and tried what it was to die, hath proclaimed them bleſſed that die in the Lord. Thoſe are bleſſed, I know, that liue in him, but they reſt not from their labours; Toyle and ſorrow is betweene them, and a perfect enioying of that bleſſedneſſe, which they now poſſeſſe onelyonly in hope and inchoation; when death hath added reſt, their happineſſe is finiſhed.
O death, how ſweet is that reſt,The taſte of our Meditation. wherewith thou refreſheſt the weary Pilgrims of this vale of mortalitie? How pleaſant is thy face to thoſe eies, that hauehave acquainted themſelues with the ſight of it, which to ſtrangers is grim, and gaſtly? How worthy art thou to be welcome vntounto thoſe that know whence thou art, and whither thou tendeſt? who that knowes thee, can feare thee? who that is not all nature, would rather hide himſelfe amongſt the baggage of this vile life, than follow thee to a Crowne? what indifferent Iudge that ſhould ſee life painted ouer, with vaine ſemblances of pleaſures, attended with troupes of ſorrowes on the one ſide, and on the other with vncertaintie of continuance, and certaintie of diſſolution; and then ſhould turne his eyes vntounto death, and ſee her blacke, but comely, attended on the one hand with a momentanie paine, with eternitie of glorie on the other, would not ſay, out of choice, that which the Prophet ſaid out of paſſion, It is better for me to die than to liue?
But, O my Soule, what ailes thee to bee thus ſuddenly backward, and fearefull?The Complaint. No heart hath more freely diſcourſed of death, in ſpeculation; no tongue hath more extolled it in abſence. And now, that it is come to thy beds-ſide, and hath drawne thy curtaines, and takes thee by the hand, and offers thee ſeruice, thou ſhrinkeſt inward, and by the paleneſſe of thy face, and wildneſſe of thine eye, bewraieſt an amazement at the preſence of ſuch a gheſt. That face, which was ſo familiar to thy thoughts, is now vnwelcome to thine eies; I am aſhamed of this weake irreſolution. Whitherto hauehave tended all thy ſerious meditations? what hath Chriſtianitie done to thee, if thy feares bee ſtill heatheniſh? Is this thine imitation of ſo many worthy Saints of God, whom thou haſt ſeene entertaine the violenteſt deaths with ſmiles and ſongs? Is this the fruit of thy long and frequent inſtruction? Didſt thou thinke death would hauehave beene content with words? didſt thou hope it would ſuffice thee to talke, while all other ſuffer? Where is thy faith? Yea, where art thou thy ſelfe, O my ſoule? Is heauen worthy of no more thankes, no more ioy? Shall Heretikes, ſhall Pagans giuegive death a better welcome than thou? Hath thy Maker, thy Redemer ſent for thee, and art thou loth to goe? hath hee ſent for thee, to put thee in poſſeſſion of that glorious Inheritance, which thy wardſhip hath cheerefully expected, and art thou loth to goe? Hath God with this Sergeant of his, ſent his Angels to fetch thee, and art thou loth to goe? Rouze vp thy ſelfe for ſhame, O my ſoule: and if euer thou haſt truly beleeued, ſhake off this vnchriſtian diffidence, and addreſſe thy ſelfe ioyfully for thy glory.
The Wiſh.Yea, O my Lord, it is thou, that muſt raiſe vp this faint and drooping heart of mine; thou onelyonly canſt rid me of this weake and cowardly diſtruſt; Thou that ſendeſt for my ſoule, canſt prepare it for thy ſelfe; thou onelyonly canſt make thy meſſenger welcome to me. O that I could but ſee thy face through death! Oh that I could ſee death, not as it was, but as thou haſt made it! Oh that I could heartily pledge thee, my Sauiour, in this cup, that ſo I might drinke new wine with thee, in thy Fathers Kingdome!
The Confeſſion.But alas, O my God, nature is ſtrong and weake in mee, at once: I cannot wiſh to welcome death, as it is worthy; when I looke for moſt courage, I finde ſtrongeſt temptations: I ſee and confeſſe, that when I am my ſelfe, thou haſt no ſuch coward as I: Let me alone, and I ſhall ſhame that name of thine, which I hauehave profeſſed: eueryevery ſecure worldling ſhall laugh at my feebleneſſe. O God, were thy Martyrs thus haled to their ſtakes? might they not hauehave beene looſed from their rackes, and choſe to die in thoſe torments? Let it be no ſhame for thy ſeruant, to take vp that complaint which thou mad'ſt of thy better Attendants; The ſpirit is willing, but the fleſh is weake.
The Petition and enforcement.O thou God of ſpirits, that haſt coupled theſe two together, vnite them in a deſire of their diſſolution; weaken this fleſh to receiue, and encourage this ſpirit either to deſire, or to contemne death; and now, as I grow neerer to my home, let me increaſe in the ſenſe of my ioyes: I am thine, ſaue me, O Lord; It was thou that didſt put ſuch courage into thine ancient, and late witneſſes, that they either inuited, or challenged death; and held their perſecutors their beſt friends, for letting them looſe from theſe gieues of fleſh. I know, thine hand is not ſhortned; neither any of them hath receiued more proofes of thy former mercies; Oh let thy goodneſſe inable me to reach them in the comfortable ſteddineſſe of my paſſage: Doe but draw this vaile a little, that I may ſee my glory, and I cannot but be inflamed with the deſire of it: It was not I, that either made this body for the earth, or this ſoule for my body, or this heauen for my ſoule, or this glorie of heauen, or this entrance into glory: All is thine owne worke; Oh perfect what thou haſt begun, that thy praiſe, and my happineſſe may be conſummate at once.
The aſſurance, or Confidence.Yea, O my ſoule, what need'ſt thou wiſh the God of mercies to be tender of his owne honour? Art thou not a member of that body, whereof thy Sauiour is the Head? canſt thou drowne, when thy Head is aboue? was it not for thee, that hee triumpht ouer death? Is there any feare in a foyled aduerſarie? Oh my Redeemer, I hauehave already ouercome in thee: how can I miſcarrie in my ſelfe? O my ſoule, thou haſt marched valiantly! Behold, the Damoſels of that heauenly Ieruſalem come forth with Timbrels and Harps to meet thee, and to applaud thy ſucceſſe: And now, there remaines nothing for thee, but a Crowne of righteouſneſſe, which that righteous Iudge ſhall giuegive thee, at that Day: Oh Death, where is thy ſting? Oh graue, where is thy victorie?
The Thankſgiuing.Returne now vntounto thy reſt, O my ſoule; for the Lord hath beene beneficiall vntounto thee. O Lord God, the ſtrength of my ſaluation, thou haſt couered my head in the day of battell: O my God, and King, I will extoll thee, and will bleſſe thy name for euer, and euer. I will bleſſe thee daily, and praiſe thy Name for euer and euer. Great is the Lord, and moſt worthy to be praiſed, and his greatneſſe is incomprehenſible: I will meditate of the beautie of thy glorious Maieſtie, and thy wonderfull workes: Hoſanna, thou that dwelleſt in the higheſt heauens. Amen.
FINIS.
HOLY OBSERVATIONS.
LIB. I.
By IOS. HALL.
SIC ELEVABITVR FILIVS HOMINIS
Io 3.
ANCHORA FIDEI:
LONDON, Printed for THOMAS PAVIER, MILES FLESHER and John Haviland. 1624.