"It was a beautiful thought; and a young soul sees not superstition in so fair garments."

Nay, nay," said Edith, with diffidence," but, the Word says not certainly, that such visions shall not be.”

"Yea, Edith," said her father," the sword of the Spirit is quick and powerful. The Lord has given us a sufficient weapon in giving us his Word--and this is not the age of miracles."

"Yet it is a wondrous time," said Defoe, "much sin provoking this terrible judgment, and withal, though we look for this judgment so certainly, so great continuance in sin. There is need of you, Master Field; there is need of all faithful men who will speak the truth in boldness; and I pray God you be preserved to see the ending of this visitation."

The house of Master Field's parishioner upon the quiet. road to Hampstead, was an antique building of wood, with picturesque gables and low-roofed, angled rooms. It had a considerable garden round it, and was bright with the fresh suburban look, trim and well-cared for, which strikes the eye so pleasantly in contrast with crowded streets, and noise and bustle. The inmates were a brother and sister, ancient, lonely, widowed people. John Goodman was childless, and had been faithful all his lifetime to the memory of a girlish wife whom he had buried, long years ago. His sister, Dame Rogers, was a widow, having one sole daughter, who bore the gracious name of Mercy, a simple girl of sixteen years. John Goodman was a gardener, supplying with his vegetable stores, the chief dealers in one of the large city markets, and was able to sustain himself and his family comfortably. It was a

religious, godly house, simply pure, and observant of the worship and ordinances of God.

In a little fresh bed-chamber, with budding honeysuckle and young roses looking in at its small lattice, Edith took grateful rest, the first night after their arrival.

"Has it come near you yet?" she asked, as Dame Rogers and the bashful Mercy attended her into her apartment, on a little pallet in which Mercy herself was to sleep.

"Nay, thank goodness, it hasn't come thus far," said Dame Rogers, "but forsooth, Mistress Edith, it comes further every day, and one can't reckon on an hour. 'Twas but yesternight that Alice Saffron, the laundrywoman's daughter came in, as white as that sheet, to tell us how her mother had gone to carry home the clean linen to Master Gregory's, the great silk mercer in Eastcheap. There were ten of a fair family, besides apprentices and porters, and such like; and all were as lifelike as you or I (save us, we know not when it may be our turn) when she went with the great basket for the things a week afore. And look you, Mistress Edith, when Dame Saffron came to the house yestermorning, they were all gone; every one of the fair children, and the mother, dead of the plague; and Master Gregory himself, poor man, wandered out raving into the fields, mayhap to die there by himself as like as any thing; and the serving people fled. Lord bless us it makes one's blood freeze to hear such tales; and they say 'tis but beginning yet.”

"And the people are all afraid?" said Edith.

"Afraid! bless you, Mistress Edith, that's but a quiet word for it. The folk are clean out of their wits with the

panic that's upon them; and seeking to false helps, lackaday! in their darkness, when there is but One that can deliver. Tell Mistress Edith, Mercy, of yonder evil place that Alice Saffron beguiled you to, when you were last at market. The Almighty keep us! I know not if there will be any market ere long, and what will become of us then?"

"Please you, Mistress Edith," said Mercy, bashfully, "it was a dark room, with a little fire in a brazier, and perfumes like what Dr. Newton gave to my uncle to keep evil smells away burning in it, and the smoke and the good scent going through the room. And there was a tall man with a cap of black velvet upon his head, and a long robe, like what the great ladies wear, with embroideries upon it; and he could read the stars like the words in a book and told fortunes by them the way they were shining in the sky. So Alice asked if the plague would be long, and he said, 'Yea, yea, mighty and great, such as was never seen in this world before.' And Alice said, would it come to Hampstead, and he made answer, 'It will go every where, thou fool, till it slay its thousands int the sunshine, and its tens of thousands in the night.' And with that Alice began to weep, and so did I, for I was afraid; and Alice said, 'Ah, sir, and shall we die?' and then he told her she should be saved, but he would say naught for me. And Alice said mayhap if I had given him somewhat, he might have told me some good tidings, but I had naught; and perchance if he knew I was to die, it was best not to tell me, for I should have fallen down with fear."

"Ah! Mercy, my sweet child, speak not so," exclaimed Dame Rogers, as an involuntary tear slid over Mercy's

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round, smooth cheek, "an he had known evil tidings he would have told thee to have frighted thee. Break not thy poor mother's heart with such a terror."

Nay, he knew not aught," said Edith gently, laying her hand on the shoulder of Mercy, who sat on a low stool beside her. "Doth God reveal who shall die, and who shall live to man? Let us not fear, Mercy, while all things are in His hands."

Well, I know not," said Dame Rogers, after a pause; they have their learning from the Evil One, I wot, yet full oft it comes true; and certain the enemy hath great power and wisdom, as I have heard thy own worthy father say, Mistress Edith."

"Nay, that is sure," said Edith; "but he hath not the power to slay and to make alive, Dame Rogers; and the Lord shows not his secret counsel to a fallen spirit."

“And in good sooth it is pleasant to talk to thee, lady," said the dame; "and thou seest, Mercy, how Mistress Edith can clear thee of those foolish doubts of thine, for all that she hath been little longer in the world than thine own silly self. And that is truth-like, without doubt, for the Lord taketh counsel with no one, and with the adversary least of all, not to say that he is the father of lies and deceitfulness. Well, I will think no more on't. And thou art weary, Mistress Edith, and we do but keep thee from rest: do thou bestir thee, Mercy, and help. A fair good even, and good rest, and peace; and if the Lord will, I will call you early on the morrow."

That precautionary clause, "if the Lord will," was any thing but a form in those days: solemn and seemly at all times, it had an especial weight in that season of singular

peril, when those who parted for the night had before them the fatal probability that they should never receive mortal greeting again, upon an earthly morrow.

Below, the Puritan sat with his humble host: their conversation was of ecclesiastical matters--the silenced ministers, the persecuted church--and, in the narrower parochial circle, of the wants and necessities of their own especial people. Upon the morrow, which was the Sabbath, Master Field intended to resume his place in his own pulpit, the conforming vicar who had supplanted him having already removed to a safer distance from the stricken city.

"No fear of any hindrance, sir,” said John Goodman, in answer to a question from the minister; "we'll be all but too glad to see you in the old place again: and for the other side, no fear of them, Master Field: for why? as many of them as could do aught in the way of shutting the church on you have gone away, or buried themselves in their own houses, for fear of this judgment; and for the rest, bless you! they're in that state of trouble and trembling, that they'd listen to any man that spoke the Gospel to them, an' he was but solemn and earnest enough; and, saving them that be solemn and earnest, there's few other remaining in these parts to preach: the like of this terror sifts out the faint-hearted as you would sift seed. But whatever they hold for, they'll be all glad to welcome you, sir, for they do all have a kind memory of you of old."

And the next day, a brilliant Sabbath, when May had well-nigh ripened into June, the ejected minister again preached in his former pulpit. The church was filled to