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.1
These famous words reflect life in another time. Death was announced to all by the clanging of the local church bell. Without knowing who had died, you were reminded that you belonged to the race of Adam—the inheritors of death.
But John Donne’s words are more than just the musings of a disinterested observer. Izaak Walton’s biography of Donne reveals Donne’s struggle with sickness and his determination to know the grace and mercy of God. Instead of seeking to divert himself from the pain of his decaying body, Donne gave himself to contemplating the goodness of God in Christ. He knew the riches of Christ’s love so deeply that, even as he was dying, he was asking to be allowed to continue to preach the gospel.
At the end of his life, his sickness caused him to retire to the country for so long that a rumour went around that he had died. In response to the report, Donne wrote a letter to a friend sprinkled with dry humour and deep conviction. Here is a brief excerpt:
A man would almost be content to die,—if there were no other benefit in death,—to hear of so much sorrow, and so much good testimony from good men, as I,—God be blessed for it—did upon the report of my death… It hath been my desire, and God may be pleased to grant it, that I might die in the pulpit; if not that, yet that I might take my death in the pulpit; that is, die the sooner by occasion of those labours.2
Within a month of penning that letter, Donne travelled to London to preach what would be his last sermon. When his friends saw him, he was just skin and bone, and they feared that his preaching would lead even sooner to his death. Donne would have none of it, and preached on Psalm 68:20: “He that is our God is the God of salvation; and unto God the Lord belong the issues from death” (KJV).
The day after he preached this sermon, he was visited by a friend who asked, “Why are you sad?” He replied,
I am not sad; but most of the night past I have entertained myself with many thoughts of several friends that have left me here, and are gone to that place from which they shall not return; and that within a few days I also shall go hence, and be no more seen. And my preparation for this change is become my nightly meditation upon my bed, which my infirmities have now made restless to me … I cannot plead innocency of life, especially of my youth; but I am to be judged by a merciful God, who is not willing to see what I have done amiss. And though of myself I have nothing to present to him but sins and misery, yet I know he looks not upon me now as I am of myself, but as I am in my Saviour, and hath given me, even at this present time, some testimonies by his Holy Spirit, that I am of the number of his Elect: I am therefore full of inexpressible joy, and shall die in peace.3
When my life is done, I wonder what the words on my lips will be. Maybe I need to think about death a little more.
- John Donne, ‘Meditation XVII’, The Works of John Donne, edited by Henry Alford, John W Parker, London, 1839, p. 574. ↩
- Izaak Walton, The Life of Dr John Donne, 1639, http://anglicanhistory.org/walton/donne.html. ↩
- Ibid. ↩
