I said, “Dear Mark, that is so like you and Violet! Just the Kindness I should have expected! Believe me, we shall thankfully accept it, if there be Need. But at present the Fire is all about us, yet comes not to us. We have made up our little Parcel of Treasures, (a little one, indeed, Mark!) and are ready to start at a Minute’s Notice, trusting to a good God to spare our Lives. This old House, if it once catches, will burn like Tinder; meanwhile, come and see how many it holds.”
So I led him from Room to Room, and shewed him Mothers nursing their Infants, Children eating Bread and Milk, and old People still sleeping heavily. He was greatly interested and impressed. “What a good Soul you are!” said he,—“I can give you no Notion of the Scenes of Misery on the Outskirts through which I passed on my Way here. People huddled in Tents, or lying under Hedges, or on Heaps of Litter and broken Furniture, without a Morsel of Bread or a Cup of Milk, yet none begging!... I saw a few Bread-carts and Milk-people coming up to them as I passed along, but many had no Money, not even a Penny, to buy a Breakfast. I had filled my Purse, Cherry, with all that was in the Till, before I set out; but you see there’s not much in it now——”
And he pulled out an empty Purse, with a Smile that showed he was well pleased with the Way its Contents had gone. Then we shook Hands heartily, and parted.
To the loud Crackling of Flames and Crash of falling Buildings, was now added the blowing up of Houses with Gunpowder, which, indeed, made the Neighbourhood of them very dangerous to Bystanders, but checked the Progress of the Fire. However, Nothing effectual could have been done, had it not pleased Almighty God to stay his Judgment by abating the high Wind, which fell all at once; whereby the Flames ceased to spread, though the glowing Ruins continued to burn.
The Crisis being now past, we ceased to be in Apprehension for ourselves, and devoted all our Attention to the poor, bereft People under our Care. Some of these were fetched away by their Country Friends; sooner or later all dispersed; and then we went out into the Fields adjoining the City, to afford what little Help we could. But oh! the Desolation! To attempt to assuage that Accumulation of Destitution by our trivial Means seemed like essaying to subdue the Fire with a Cup of Water: yet we know that every Little helps; and that even a Cup of Water, to the thirsty Man who drinks it, quenches not his Thirst the less, that Thousands beside are parched with Drought. And thus, by Analogy, concerning the general Amount of human Suffering surrounding us at all Times, which the wife of a Whitechapel Parson is perhaps as well qualified to speak of as any one else—We need not be discouraged from aiding any, because we cannot succour all; since the Relief afforded is as grateful to him who has it, as though all were relieved, which it is not God’s Will that any should have Power to accomplish.
By the End of the Month this terrible Calamity was over-past; at least, as far as we had Anything to do with it, though we continued to give Shelter to poor, ruined Householders as long as the Parsonage was our own. The Gentleman who succeeded my dear Husband seemed a benevolent Sort of Man, a little pompous, maybe, but tenderly disposed towards the Poor.
And now, Everything being settled, we sold some of our old Furniture, and sent down the Rest, with Mistress Peach, by the Wagon. And my dear Husband and I entered Bucklands exactly as we had left it, and on the very same Horse; I in my cherry-colour Habit, that was as fresh as on my Wedding-day. And here we have been ever since; and he calls me his right Hand, and says my Attention to all his secular Affairs leaves his Mind at Liberty to pursue his Duties and Studies without Distraction—and that I understand the Poor even better than he does—and that I am his best Counsellor, his dearest Friend, his pleasantest Companion, his darling Cherry!—Yes; he calls me, and I believe he thinks me all this: and as for my being happy in him ... I should think so, indeed!
FINIS
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