And Walter is saying -it is a foolish Phrensy to care for Praise.
And the best things have the fewer Admirers, I replied, because there are more Dunces than able Men. Consider the work of Mr Vanbrugghe, which is much cryed up: when he tried to build the little Church of Ripon, the Cornices were so small that they could not weather the Work or throw off the Rain!
Then the Weight of this Life fell upon me, and I could scarce speak. I went presently out of Scotland Yard into Whitehalclass="underline" I walked to the Chandlery and then, to still my beating Mind, I entered into the Church-Yard beside the Abbey. I take Delight in stalking along by my self on that dumb silent Ground, for if it be true that Time is a Wound then it is one that the Dead may Heal. And when I rest my Head upon the Graves I hear them speaking each to each: the grass above us, they say, is of a blew colour but why do we still see it and why are we not pluckt out of the earth? I hear them whispering, the long dead, in Cripplegate, in Farringdon, in Cordwainers Street and in Crutched Fryars: they are pack'd close together like Stones in the Mortar, and I hear them speak of the City that holds them fast. And yet still I burn at Walter's recent Words as this Thought comes to me: why do the Living still haunt me when I am among the Dead?
In rage at my self I walked from the Church-Yard and went up into Charing Cross: I passed the Mews Yard, through Dirty Lane, and then walked down Castle Street towards my Lodging. When I entered Nat Eliot was cleaning some Plates in the Kitchin: Lord Sir, says he, are you back so soon? And up he jumps from his Stool to take off my Boots.
There was a Caller, he goes on (making a pease-porridge of his Words), who desired me to acquaint you of his being here and that he desired if it might not be Troublesome that he might be admitted to you.
Did he speak so plainly?
But Nat paid no heed to my Jest and continu'd: My Master is not withinne, I told him, and is I know not where. He was very much of an ordinary Man and when he enquired your Business I said I will not be pumpt, I said you mistake your Fellow in me. He had mittins on his Hands, and a Fur-Cap on his Head, Master.
So, so, so, I said as I walked up to my Chamber, we will see, we will see.
Nat followed me and, taking up my Cap, stands in front of me: do you know that this Morning I went to buy a new one, says he (for my Cap was now fray'd), so when I stand looking outside the Hat-makers by Golden Square, the tradesman's boy comes out to me, Master, and says well he says do you see any thing you like for you look as if your Pockets had but Holes. What's that to you, says I, I have Money to pay for any Thing I like, and I shan't be huffed at for looking: do you know that saying, all that Glisters is not Gold and then I added again to him No more Nat, I said, tho' you would slobber your Fingers if you held your Tongue.
And he looked down upon the Ground. I am sorry to have given you so much Trouble, he replied. Then he went away; but he crept back later when I called him, and read me to Sleep.
All was revealed on the next Day, when I was by chance walking through Covent-Garden. As I turned out of the Piazza, on the right hand coming out of James-Street, I was jogged in the Elbow and, looking at my Neighbour, saw that it was one of my Assembly from Black Step Lane: I knew him as Joseph, a common man in Cloth-Coat and speckled Breeches. I called for you, he whispered, but your Boy denyed me.
I was not in the House, but why did you come for me there? And I gave him a furious Look.
You have not heard the News?
What News? I asked shuddering.
He was a Man of uncouth and halting Speech, but I peeced together his story as follows, viz: Two days before, some Report of our Activities was spread abroad, and thereupon a Riot was raised among the Streets by our Meeting-House, the people becoming very clamorous against it; there were six withinne the House and, on hearing a confus'd Noise approaching them, they first bolted the fore door, and then padlock'd the Back door, which was glazed, and began to fasten the Shutters belonging to it. The Mobb then threw Stones at the Windows, and among them Flint-stones of such a Size and Weight as were enough to have kill'd any Person they hit (which was their Purpose). They likewise stopp'd those passing thro' Black Step Lane, robb'd them of their Hats, tore off their Wiggs, and buffetted them on suspicion that they were Enthusiasticks (their canting Term): Joseph was one of these and escap'd scarcely with his Life. The Mobb had now crowded into both Lanes running each side of the House (a Disease comes out in Pus and runs so), and they forc'd the Doors.
There was no help for those inside but to give themselves up to the Mercy of the Mobb, who shewed none but barbarously mangled them, hacking and hewing them until there was no Life left in their Bodies. The House itself was quite destroy'd.
I was so confounded at this Discourse that I could not answer a Word but put my Hand across my Face. Be easy in your mind, Sir, Joseph continu'd, for your Part is not discover'd and the Dead cannot speak: the Remainder of us are not known. This soften'd me a little and I took him to The Red Gates, an Ale-house near to the Seven Dials, where we sat from Six till within a Quarter of Ten discoursing on these Events till by degrees I became quite Calm. It is an ill Wind etc., and in this Extremity I was moved to fashion a new Désigne which would bring all back into Order and so protect me. For I had previously been at a Loss how to conduct my own hot Business without being discover'd soon enough, since it had occurred to me that the Labourers at Spittle-Fields and Limehouse might have Suspicions against me.
Now I pressed the man Joseph into my Service for, as I said to him, our Work could not be hindered by the Rages of the Mobb: just as it was within my Commission to raise more Churches, so it was my fixt Intention to build the sovereign Temple on Black Step Lane.
And what of the Sacrifices we must perform? said he smiling upon the Company in the Tavern.
You must do that for me, I answered. And then I added: Pliny the Eldest has an Observation that nullum frequentius votum, no Wish more frequent among Men than the Wish for Death. And then: Shall a Man see God and live? And then: You may find all you need among the pick-pocket Boys in the Moor-fields.
Why then, says he, here's a Health to my Arse; and he raised his Pot.
This is agreed, I replied.
When I left him it was a very dark Night and yet I stept towards the Hay-market to entertain my self, there mixing with a Crowd about two Ballad-singers who sang a mad Catch in the glare of their Lanthorns: For that he was some Fiend from Hell who stole, Having for Pride been burnt there to a Cole.
I could not tell where this foul Thing should be: A Succubus it did appear to me.
And then they seemed to turn their Faces to me, tho' they were quite blind, and I walked on into the Night.
It was my set Purpose to rid my self of the workmen who were even then imployed about my Church in Wapping; they were wooden headed Fellows but, as I suspected, they looked on me strangely and whisper'd behind my Back. And so I wrote thus to the Commission: Of the New Church of Wapping, Stepney, call'd St Georgesin-the East, the Foundacions have been begun without that due Consideration which is requisite, so that unless I take them up again I am out of all Hope that this Désigne will succeed; I have no prejudice against the Workmen but that they are Ignorant Fellows. I have admonished them to the utmost of my Power to perform the Workes according to the agreements, but notwithstanding I have observ'd the Mortar not altogether so well beat, and a vast Quantity of Spanish has been mix'd with the Bricks altho' the Workmen pretend that there is no more than what is allowed by the Commissioners. I therefore pray you to give me liberty to bring in my own Workmen to build the said Church at Wapping. I have examined and enquired into their Abilities, and conceeved that they are fit for the Places desired: and have set their Charge as before at 21-per diem. AH of which is humbly submitted, Nich: Dyer.