I have long been of the Opinion, says he, that the Fire was a vast Blessing and the Plague likewise; it gave us Occasion to understand the Secrets of Nature which otherwise might have overwhelmed'd us. (I busied my self with the right Order of the Drafts, and said nothing.) With what Firmness of Mind, Sir Chris. Went on, did the People see their City devoured, and I can still remember how after the Plague and the Fire the Cheerfulness soon returned to them: Forgetfulness is the great Mystery of Time. I remember, I said as I took a Chair opposite to him, how the Mob applauded the Flames. I remember how they sang and danced by the Courses during the Contagion: that was not Cheerfulness but Frenzy. And I remember, also, the Rage and the Dying -These were the Accidents of Fortune, Nick, from which we have learned so much in this Generation. It was said, sir, that the Plague and the Fire were no Accidents but Substance, that they were the Signed of the Beast within. And Sir Chris. Laughed at this. At which point Nat put his Face in: Do you call, sirs? Would you care for a Dish of Tea or some Wine? Some Tea, some Tea, cried Sir Chris. For the Fire gives me a terrible Thirst. But no, no, he continued when Nat had left the Room, you cannot assign the Causes of Plague or Fire to Sin. It was the negligence of Men that provoked those Disasters and for Negligence there is a Cure; only Terror is the Hindrance. Terrour, I said softly, is the Lodestone of our Art.

Hawksmoor