than a long sleep.

Say not a dead man hears not, nor speaks, nor sees, nor is conscious. It
is just so with a sleeping person. If I may speak somewhat
paradoxically, even the soul of a sleeping person is in some sort
asleep; but not so the soul of a dead man; that is awake.

But, you say, a dead man experiences corruption, and becomes dust and
ashes. And what then, beloved hearers? For this very reason we ought to
rejoice. For when a man is about to rebuild an old and tottering house,
he first sends out its occupants, then tears it down, and rebuilds anew
a more splendid one. This occasions no grief to the occupants, but
rather joy; for they do not think of the demolition which they see, but
of the house which is to come, tho not yet seen. When God is about to
do a similar work, he destroys our body, and removes the soul which was
dwelling in it as from some house, that he may build it anew and more
splendidly, and again bring the soul into it with greater glory. Let us
not, therefore, regard the tearing down, but the splendor which is to
succeed.

If, again, a man has a statue decayed by rust and age, and mutilated in
many of its parts, he breaks it up and casts it into a furnace, and
after the melting he receives it again in a more beautiful form. As then
the dissolving in the furnace was not a destruction but a renewing of
the statue, so the death of our bodies is not a destruction but a
renovation. When, therefore, you see as in a furnace our flesh flowing
away to corruption, dwell not on that sight, but wait for the recasting.
And be not satisfied with the extent of this illustration, but advance
in your thoughts to a still higher point; for the statuary, casting into
the furnace a brazen image, does not furnish you in its place a golden