and two out of the Court of Aldermen were required to see that they duly executed their dangerous office.  Public prayers and a general fast were likewise enjoined.  But Heaven seemed deaf to the supplications of the doomed inhabitants—­their prayers being followed by a fearful increase of deaths.  A vast crowd was collected within Saint Paul’s to hear a sermon preached by Doctor Sheldon, Archbishop of Canterbury,—­a prelate greatly distinguished during the whole course of the visitation, by his unremitting charity and attention to the sick; and before the discourse was concluded, several fell down within the sacred walls, and, on being conveyed to their own homes, were found to be infected.  On the following day, too, many others who had been present were seized with the disorder.

A fresh impulse was given to the pestilence from an unlooked for cause.  It has been mentioned that the shutting up of houses and seclusion of the sick were regarded as an intolerable grievance, and though most were compelled to submit to it, some few resisted, and tumults and disturbances ensued.  As the plague increased, these disturbances became more frequent, and the mob always taking part against the officers, they were frequently interrupted in the execution of their duty.

About this time a more serious affray than usual occurred, attended-with loss of life and other unfortunate consequences, which it may be worth while to relate, as illustrative of the peculiar state of the times.  The wife of a merchant, named Barcroft, residing in Lothbury, being attacked by the plague, the husband, fearing his house would be shut up, withheld all information from the examiners and searchers.  His wife died, and immediately afterwards one of his children was attacked.  Still he refused to give notice.  The matter, however, got wind.  The searchers arrived at night, and being refused admittance, they broke into the house.  Finding undoubted evidence of infection, they ordered it to be closed, stationed a watchman at the door, and marked it with the fatal sign.  Barcroft remonstrated against their proceedings, but in vain.  They told him he might think himself well off that he was not carried before the Lord Mayor, who would undoubtedly send him to Ludgate; and with other threats to the like effect, they departed.

The unfortunate man’s wife and child were removed the following night in the dead-cart, and, driven half-mad by grief and terror, he broke open the door of his dwelling, and, plunging a sword in the watchman’s breast, who opposed his flight, gained the street.  A party of the watch happened to be passing at the time, and the fugitive was instantly secured.  He made a great clamour, however,—­calling to his neighbours and the bystanders to rescue him, and in another moment the watch was beaten off, and Barcroft placed on a post, whence he harangued his preservers on the severe restraints imposed upon the citizens, urging them to assist in throwing open the doors of all infected houses, and allowing free egress to their inmates.