Bellingham. Can you not turn your | The ghost of William Leddra, and was thoughts a little while frightened. To public matters? There are papers | And furthermore, brave Richard Daven here That need attention. Endicott. Trouble me no more! My business now is with another world. Ah, Richard Bellingham! I greatly fear That in my righteous zeal I have been led To doing many things which left undone My mind would now be easier. Did I dream it, For as I listen to your voice it seems And the dead bodies lay about the streets Or has some person told me, that John Of the disconsolate city! Bellingham, Norton Is dead? Bellingham. You have not dreamed it. He is dead, And gone to his reward. It was no dream. Endicott. Then it was very sudden; for I saw him Standing where you now stand not long ago. Bellingham. By his own fireside, in the afternoon, A faintness and a giddiness came o'er him; And, leaning on the chimney-piece, he cried, "The hand of God is on me!" and fell dead. To England to malign us with the King? Bellingham. The ship that brought them sails this very hour, Endicott. And did not some one say, or But carries no one back. DELUSIONS of the days that once have | These are our theme to-night; and been, vaguely here, Witchcraft and wonders of the world un- Through the dim mists that crowd the seen, Phantoms of air, and necromantic arts That crushed the weak and awed the stoutest hearts, atmosphere, We draw the outlines of weird figures cast In shadow on the background of the Past. Who would believe that in the quiet town | Be not too swift in casting the first stone, Of Salem, and amid the woods that Nor think New England bears the guilt alone. crown The only men of dignity and state Were then the Minister and the Magistrate, Who ruled their little realm with iron rod, Less in the love than in the fear of God; And who believed devoutly in the Powers Of Darkness, working in this world of ours, In spells of Witchcraft, incantations dread, And shrouded apparitions of the dead. Upon the simple folk "with fire and flame,' Saith the old Chronicle, "the Devil came; Scattering his firebrands and his poisonous darts, To set on fire of Hell all tongues and hearts! And 'tis no wonder; for, with all his host, There most he rages where he hateth most, And is most hated; so on us he brings All these stupendous and portentous things!" Something of this our scene to-night will show ; And ye who listen to the Tale of Woe, For, meditating as I journeyed on, Was struck by Evil Spirits in the face; Wait only till I fetch my horse, that stands Tethered among the trees, not far from here. Tituba. Let me get up behind you, reverend sir. Mather. The Lord forbid! What would the people think, By hindering or by furthering. He hath If they should see the Reverend Cotton A most mysterious Providence permits them To manifest themselves to mortal eyes. Hathorne. You, who are always welcome here among us, Are doubly welcome now. We need your wisdom, Your learning in these things, to be our guide. The Devil hath come down in wrath upon us, And ravages the land with all his hosts. prayers, Which are the great artillery of Heaven, Are brought into the field, I see them scattered And driven like Autumn leaves before the wind. Hathorne. You, as a Minister of God, can meet them With spiritual weapons; but, alas! Mather. These wonders of the world invisible, These spectral shapes that haunt our habitations, The multiplied and manifold afflictions With which the aged and the dying saints Have their death prefaced and their age imbittered, Are but prophetic trumpets that proclaim The Second Coming of our Lord on earth. The evening wolves will be much more abroad, When we are near the evening of the world. Hathorne. When you shall see, as I have hourly seen, The sorceries and the witchcrafts that torment us, See children tortured by invisible spirits, And wasted and consumed by powers unseen, You will confess the half has not been told you. |