DANIEL DEFOE. A JOURNAL OF THE PLAGUE YEAR

this was, especially for their jeering and mocking at an honest

gentleman and a neighbour (for some of them knew him), who, they

saw, was overwhelmed with sorrow for the breaches which it had

pleased God to make upon his family.

I cannot call exactly to mind the hellish, abominable raillery which

was the return they made to that talk of mine: being provoked, it

seems, that I was not at all afraid to be free with them; nor, if I could

remember, would I fill my account with any of the words, the horrid

oaths, curses, and vile expressions, such as, at that time of the day,

even the worst and ordinariest people in the street would not use; for,

except such hardened creatures as these, the most wicked wretches

that could be found had at that time some terror upon their minds of

the hand of that Power which could thus in a moment destroy them.

But that which was the worst in all their devilish language was, that

they were not afraid to blaspheme God and talk atheistically, making

a jest of my calling the plague the hand of God; mocking, and even

laughing, at the word judgement, as if the providence of God had no

concern in the inflicting such a desolating stroke; and that the people

calling upon God as they saw the carts carrying away the dead bodies

was all enthusiastic, absurd, and impertinent.

I made them some reply, such as I thought proper, but which I found

was so far from putting a check to their horrid way of speaking that it

made them rail the more, so that I confess it filled me with horror and

a kind of rage, and I came away, as I told them, lest the hand of that

judgement which had visited the whole city should glorify His

vengeance upon them, and all that were near them.

They received all reproof with the utmost contempt, and made the

greatest mockery that was possible for them to do at me, giving me all

the opprobrious, insolent scoffs that they could think of for preaching

to them, as they called it, which indeed grieved me, rather than angered me;

and I went away, blessing God, however, in my mind that I had not spared them,

though they had insulted me so much.

They continued this wretched course three or four days after this,

continually mocking and jeering at all that showed themselves

religious or serious, or that were any way touched with the sense of

the terrible judgement of God upon us; and I was informed they

flouted in the same manner at the good people who, notwithstanding

the contagion, met at the church, fasted, and prayed to God to remove

His hand from them.

I say, they continued this dreadful course three or four days – I think

it was no more – when one of them, particularly he who asked the

poor gentleman what he did out of his grave, was struck from Heaven

with the plague, and died in a most deplorable manner; and, in a

word, they were every one of them carried into the great pit which I

have mentioned above, before it was quite filled up, which was not

above a fortnight or thereabout.

These men were guilty of many extravagances, such as one would

think human nature should have trembled at the thoughts of at such a

time of general terror as was then upon us, and particularly scoffing

and mocking at everything which they happened to see that was

religious among the people, especially at their thronging zealously to

the place of public worship to implore mercy from Heaven in such a

time of distress; and this tavern where they held their dub being

within view of the church-door, they had the more particular occasion

for their atheistical profane mirth.

But this began to abate a little with them before the accident which I

have related happened, for the infection increased so violently at this

part of the town now, that people began to be afraid to come to the

church; at least such numbers did not resort thither as was usual.

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