The household doctor at that time, for a country house, was either the mistress of the family or the confessor. There were few medical men who were not also priests, and they only lived in chief cities. Ladies were taught physic and surgery, and often doctored a whole neighbourhood. In a town the druggist was usually consulted by the poor, if they consulted any one at all who had learned medicine; but the physicians most in favour were "white witches," namely, old women who dealt in herbs and charms, the former of which were real remedies, and the latter heathenish nonsense. A great deal of superstition mixed with the practice of the best medical men of the day. Herbs must be gathered when the moon was at the full, or when Mercury was in the ascendant; patients who had the small-pox must be wrapped in scarlet; the blood-stone preserved its wearer from particular maladies; a hair from a saint's beard, taken in water, was deemed an invaluable specific. They bled to restore strength, administered plasters of verdigris, and made their patients wait for a lucky day to begin a course of treatment. "He hath given her," pursued Perrote, sorrowfully, "myrrh and milelot and tutio [oxide of zinc], and hath tried plasters of diachylon, litharge, and ceruse, but to no good purpose. He speaketh now of antimony and orchis, but I fear--I fear he can give nothing to do any good. When our Lord saith `Die,' not all the help nor love in the world shall make man live. And I think her time is come." "O Mistress Perrote! must she die without deliverance?" "Without earthly deliverance, it is like, my maid. Be it so. But, ah me, what if she die without the heavenly deliverance! She will not list me: she never would. If man would come by that she would list, and might be suffered so to do, I would thank God to the end of my days." "Anentis what should she list, good Mistress?" "Phyllis, she hath never yet made acquaintance with Christ our Lord. He is to her but a dead name set to the end of her prayers--an image nailed to a cross--a man whom she has heard tell of, but never saw. The living, loving Lord, who died and rose for her--who is ready at this hour to be her best Friend and dearest Comforter--who is holding forth His hands to her, as to all of us, and entreating her to come to Him and be saved--she looketh on Him as she doth on Constantine the Great, as man that was good and powerful once, but long ago, and 'tis all over and done with. I would fain have her hear man speak of Him that knoweth Him." "Father Jordan, Mistress?" "No. Father Jordan knows about Him. He knoweth Him not--at the least not so well as I want. Ay, I count he doth know Him after a fashion; but 'tis a poor fashion. I want a better man than he, and I want leave for him to come at her. And me feareth very sore that I shall win neither." "Shall we ask our Lord for it?" said Amphillis, shyly. "So do, dear maid. Thy faith shameth mine unbelief."