At this Time, Master Benskin’s Shop-window was full of small Books with awakening Titles, such as “Britain’s Remembrancer,”—“Come out of her, my People,”—“Give Ear, ye careless Daughters,” and such-like, many of them emanating from the Pen of his Lodger in the Attick; and with these and Lilly’s Almanacks, he drove a thriving Trade.
Violet was sitting with me one Morning, when Mark suddenly entered, and seeing her with me, lost his Presence of Mind directly, and forgot what he had to say. She on her Part, being just then in Mourning for one of her Brother’s Children, for whom I am bold to say she had scarce shed a Tear, (he being a humoursome Child, particularly disagreeable to her,) fetches a deep Sigh, and with a pretty, pensive Air takes up her Work, rises, mutely curtsies to him, and retires. On which he, after a Minute’s Silence, says sadly, “Violet is as beautiful, I see, as ever,”—and I was grieved to find he still thought so much about her.
Just then, my Father enters; and Mark, of a sudden recollecting his Business, exclaimed, “Oh, Uncle, here is a capital Opening for you. ’Tis an ill Wind, sure enough, that blows nobody any Good,—I don’t know why you should not do a good Turn of Business as well as ourselves by being Agent for the Sale of these patent Nostrums” ... and thereon pulled out a Parcel of Bills, headed “Infallible Preventive-pills against the Plague.” ... “Never-failing Preservatives against Infection.” ... “Sovereign Cordials against the Corruption of the Air.” ... “The Royal Antidote—” and so forth.
—“No, Boy, no,” said my Father, putting them by, one after another, as he looked over them, “Time was when I should have thought it as innocent to laugh in my Sleeve at other People’s Credulity and turn a Penny by their Delusions as yourself, and many others that are counted honest Men; but I’m older and sadder now. To the best of my Belief, every and all of these Remedies are Counterfeits, that will not only rob People of their Money, but peradventure of their Lives, by inducing them to trust in what they have bought instead of going to the Expense of proper Medicines. A solemn Time is coming; my own Time may be short; and whether I be taken or whether I be left, God forbid I should carry a Lie in my right Hand, or set it in my Shop-window.”
A Customer here summoned him away; and Mark, instead of departing, sat down beside me and said, “What think you, Cherry, of this approaching Visitation? Are you very much affrighted?”
“Awe-stricken, rather,” I made Answer; “I only fear for myself along with the rest, and I fear most for my Father, who will be more exposed to it than I shall; but I feel I can leave the Matter in God’s Hand.”
“I wish I could,” said poor Mark, sighing. “I own to you, Cherry, I am horribly dismayed. I have a Presentiment that I shall not escape. My Wife,” continued he, with great Bitterness in his Tone ... he commonly spoke of her with assumed Recklessness as “his old Lady” ... “my Wife has no Sense of the Danger—mocks at it, defies it; refuses to leave her House and her Business, come what may, and tells me with a Scoff I shall frighten myself to Death, and that Ralph Denzel shall be her Third.—Don’t you hate, Cherry, to hear Husbands and Wives, even in Sport, making light of each other’s Deaths?”
Her Grossness was offensive to me, and I said in a low Voice, “I do.”
“And if I die, as die I very likely shall,” pursued he hurriedly, “you may do me a Kindness, Cherry, by telling Violet that I never——”
This was insupportable to me. “Dear Mark,” I cried, “why yield to this Notion of Evil which may be its own Fulfilment? God watches over all. With proper Precaution, and with his Blessing, we may escape. No one knows his Hour: the brittle Cup oft lasts the longest.—Many a Casualty may cut us off before the Day of general Visitation.”