as was in the first seven years after the plague, and after the
fire of London.
It remains now that I should say something of the merciful part of
this terrible judgement. The last week in September, the plague being
come to its crisis, its fury began to assuage. I remember my friend Dr
Heath, coming to see me the week before, told me he was sure that the
violence of it would assuage in a few days; but when I saw the weekly
bill of that week, which was the highest of the whole year, being 8297
of all diseases, I upbraided him with it, and asked him what he had
made his judgement from. His answer, however, was not so much to
seek as I thought it would have been. ‘Look you,’ says he, ‘by the
number which are at this time sick and infected, there should have
been twenty thousand dead the last week instead of eight thousand, if
the inveterate mortal contagion had been as it was two weeks ago; for
then it ordinarily killed in two or three days, now not under eight or
ten; and then not above one in five recovered, whereas I have
observed that now not above two in five miscarry. And, observe it
from me, the next bill will decrease, and you will see many more
people recover than used to do; for though a vast multitude are now
everywhere infected, and as many every day fall sick, yet there will
not so many die as there did, for the malignity of the distemper is
abated’; – adding that he began now to hope, nay, more than hope, that
the infection had passed its crisis and was going off; and accordingly
so it was, for the next week being, as I said, the last in September, the
bill decreased almost two thousand.
It is true the plague was still at a frightful height, and the next bill
was no less than 6460, and the next to that, 5720; but still my friend’s
observation was just, and it did appear the people did recover faster
and more in number than they used to do; and indeed, if it had not
been so, what had been the condition of the city of London? For,
according to my friend, there were not fewer than 60,000 people at
that time infected, whereof, as above, 20,477 died, and near 40,000
recovered; whereas, had it been as it was before, 50,000 of that
number would very probably have died, if not more, and 50,000 more
would have sickened; for, in a word, the whole mass of people began
to sicken, and it looked as if none would escape.
But this remark of my friend’s appeared more evident in a few
weeks more, for the decrease went on, and another week in October it
decreased 1843, so that the number dead of the plague was but 2665;
and the next week it decreased 1413 more, and yet it was seen plainly
that there was abundance of people sick, nay, abundance more than
ordinary, and abundance fell sick every day but (as above) the
malignity of the disease abated.
Such is the precipitant disposition of our people (whether it is so or
not all over the world, that’s none of my particular business to
inquire), but I saw it apparently here, that as upon the first fright of
the infection they shunned one another, and fled from one another’s
houses and from the city with an unaccountable and, as I thought,
unnecessary fright, so now, upon this notion spreading, viz., that the
distemper was not so catching as formerly, and that if it was catched it
was not so mortal, and seeing abundance of people who really fell
sick recover again daily, they took to such a precipitant courage, and
grew so entirely regardless of themselves and of the infection, that
they made no more of the plague than of an ordinary fever, nor indeed
so much. They not only went boldly into company with those who
had tumours and carbuncles upon them that were running, and
consequently contagious, but ate and drank with them, nay, into their
houses to visit them, and even, as I was told, into their very chambers