Biographical fiction; Christian fiction; Christian saints -- Fiction; More, Thomas, Saint, 1478-1535 -- Fiction
"Aye, we shall have a Lightning-flash anon. So still, _Meg_, is also
our moral Atmosphere just now. GOD is giving us a breathing Space, as
he did to the Egyptians before the Plague of Hail, that they might
gather their live Stock within Doors. Let us take for Example them that
believed and obeyed him; and improve this holy Pause."
Just at this Moment, a few heavie Drops fell agaynst the Window Pane,
and were seene by both. Our Eyes met; and I felt a silent Pang.
"Five Days before the _Passover_," resumed _Father_, "all seemed as
still and quiet as we are now; but JESUS knew his Hour was at hand.
E'en while he yet spake familiarly among the People, there came a Sound
from Heaven, and they that stood by said it thundered; but _he_ knew it
for the Voice of his dear Father. Let us, in like Manner, when the Clap
cometh, recognise in it the Voice of GOD, and not be afraid with any
Amazement."
_Nov. 2d._
_Gammer Gurney_ is dead, and I must say I am glad of it. The Change,
to her, must be blessed, and there seemed some Danger lest, after
having escaped being ducked for a Witch, she shoulde have been burnt
for a Heretic. _Father_ looked on her as an obstinate old Woman; _Will_
counted her little short of a Saint and Prophetess, and kept her well
supplied with alle she could need. Latterly she was stone deaf; so 'tis
a happy Release.
The settled Purpose of _Father's_ Soul, just now, is to make up a
Marriage between _Mercy_ and Dr. _Clement_. 'Tis high Advancement for
her, and there seems to have been some old Liking between 'em we never
knew of.
_1533, April 1._
Though some Months have passed since my Father uttered his warning
Voice, and all continues to go quiet, I cannot forbear, now and then,
to call his Monition to Mind, and look about for the Cloud that is to
bring the Thunder-clap; but the Expectation sobers rather than saddens
me.
This Morning, leaning over the River Wall, I was startled by the cold,
damp Hand of some one from behind being laid on mine. At the same Time
a familiar Voice exclaimed, "Canst tell us, Mistress, why Fools have
hot Heads and Hands icy cold?"
I made Answer, "Canst tell me, _Patteson_, why Fools should stray out
of Bounds?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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