“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 overflowing. The air within was heavy with the perfumes used by the worshipers; a universal awe and solemn attention sat upon all faces; no longer a listless lounge, no longer a piece of necessary form, but a brief space instinct with momentous businesses—a swift crowd of weighty moments, which those earnest men and women, looking death in the face, discovered now, were all too short for special dedication to the wondrous interests of yon unseen eternity. The Lord was among them—a man of war!
CHAPTER IV.
“The bounteous hand—I would ’most envy it;
And more, the heart that’s bountiful. Oh, rich men!
Be glad that God does make you bankers for Him,
And bids ye sanctify your increase thus
By the brave usuries of mercy.”
Old Play.
Upon the following Monday, Master Field was visited by the preacher Vincent, whom he had met on his arrival. He came to invite the stranger to a meeting of “the brethren,” especially convoked for the purpose of arranging, with all possible wisdom, the position of their compact and brave forces upon this forlorn hope, and for solemn mutual prayer—a Presbytery meeting, in short. Caleb Field was a man of note among his brethren; they held his wisdom and counsel in high esteem.
They were sitting in grave conversation when a messenger handed in at the door of the cottage a letter, and a small, well-secured box for Master Field. Edith started in involuntary alarm as her father passed the former through the strong fumes of a pungent perfume which he had at hand.
“We must use all precautions, Edith,” he said, calmly, as the fragrant smoke curled through the apartment: “that we are in great danger, none can doubt.”
The letter was noticeable, expounding another feature of those times.
“Reverend Sir—
“Hearing, from various hands, that you were returning to Hampstead, I make bold to ask of you a singular favor. I hear that in aggravation of this great calamity of the pestilence, tradesmen, merchants, and other persons are discharging from their service (as I also have been forced to do) much serving-people and handicraftsmen, whereby extreme poverty and famine is like to be brought to many who have hitherto earned their own bread honestly in the sweat of their brow; wherefore being myself able to accomplish little, if I had remained in the city, having much fear of this dreadful judgment, I earnestly beg your good offices in distributing to poor, honest households, in dread of this plague, or afflicted by it, in the parishes of Hampstead, to which I am native, and Aldgate, where I plied my business, the accompanying, being certain moneys specially laid by out of the abundant increase wherewith the Lord hath blessed me, for needful charities of this calamitous time. I prefer my request with the greater boldness as knowing that you will otherwise risk yourself in endeavors for the welfare of this stricken people; nevertheless, I venture also to beseech, for the sake of our faith and persecuted Sion, that so far as may be, without hindrance to your mighty work, you would remember that your life is no common matter, to be hazarded lightly; but one for whose strength and continuance many pray who own you their spiritual father in Jesus Christ our Lord. Wherefore, praying that his angel may encamp round about you,