Then there were great disorders every where, some rising out of religion, others from the excessive taxation which pressed heavily upon all classes. Discontent was smouldering in all quarters, and now and then broke out into open flame, as in the two Pilgrimages of Grace, and other insurrections. It is not to be denied that the Protestants, as they began to be called, were also guilty of indecencies and extravagance. If you dam up a rapid stream, though never so clear, and your dam be swept away, the first overflow will be turbid and violent, and likely enow to do mischief. Moreover, if the people enacted ridiculous plays, and sang ribald songs in the churches, they had seen these very same things allowed, nay, encouraged by the church, in the spectacles of the Boy Bishop and the Pope of Fools—those strange and extravagant parodies of the most sacred offices of the church. Yes, it was indeed a troublesome time, and every man who, despite the commands of the king and his ministers, continued to read the Holy Scripture, and to frame his belief and life thereby, took that life in his hand; yet many households did it, and lived happy in the midst of disaster, and peaceful on the very field where the battle was raging. Such a household was ours. One there was, indeed, who would not enter in herself, and who would fain have hindered those who would do so. I confess I used to be afraid of Philippa at times, not that in her sober senses she would have been so base as to put the brand with her own hands to the thatch which sheltered her, but in her fits of temper there was no saying what she might do. Besides, she was one of those unhappy people to whom it seems absolutely necessary to hate something. In those days it was the Protestants. Now, she thinks I am greatly to blame in harboring poor, harmless old Father Austin; looks upon the book of Common Prayer as a remnant of popery, and upon bishops as at best very doubtful characters. She hates all Romanists and Prelatists, as she calls them, in just the same spirit that she used to hate the Scripture-readers—because they do not agree with her. But at that time she contented herself with hating, and did no covert act, save by keeping away from the Scripture-readings—for which no one blamed her, as she made it matter of conscience, and with bitter gibes and taunts whenever the subject was introduced, and, above all, if the talk turned upon personal religion and inward experience. But as she had taken to solitude and keeping of her hours, and the like, so she was out of the way a good deal. Meantime, our household went on its way, in the midst of the commotion, like a stanch ship in a troubled sea. There was anxiety, indeed, which became sharp fear and agonized suspense, when the master of the family did not come home at the accustomed hours; but as yet, this was the worst which had befallen us.