5 min read
Слушать

For whom the Bell Tolls

CE 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 this 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 bell 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 it, 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.

0
0
55
Give Award

John Donne

John Donne (22 January 1572[1] – 31 March 1631) was an English poet, scholar, soldier and secretary born into a Catholic family, a remnant of th…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

Я только малость объясню в стихе
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+