you might have witnessed its illustration in a scene
much more awful. The thick living mass of people extended from the
corner-house, nearly a quarter of a mile, at this end of the town, up to
the parsonage on the other side. During the early part of the day, every
kind of business was carried on in a hurry and an impatience, which
denoted the little chance they knew there would be for transacting it in
the evening.

"Up to the hour of four o'clock the fair was unusually quiet, and, on
the whole, presented nothing in any way remarkable; but after that hour
you might observe the busy stir and hum of the mass settling down into
a deep, brooding, portentous silence, that was absolutely fearful. The
females, with dismay and terror pictured in their faces, hurried home;
and in various instances you might see mothers, and wives, and sisters,
clinging about the sons, husbands, and brothers, attempting to drag them
by main force from the danger which they knew impended over them.
In this they seldom succeeded: for the person so urged was usually
compelled to tear himself from them by superior strength.

"The pedlars and basket-women, and such as had tables and standings
erected in the streets, commenced removing them with all possible
haste. The shopkeepers, and other inhabitants of the town, put up
their shutters, in order to secure their windows from being shattered.
Strangers, who were compelled to stop in town that night, took shelter
in the inns and other houses of entertainment where they lodged: so that
about five o'clock the street was completely clear, and free for action.

"Hitherto there was not a stroke--the scene became even more silent and
gloomy, although the moral darkness of their ill-suppressed passions
was strongly contrasted with the splendor of the sun, that poured down
a tide of golden light upon the multitude. This contrast between the
natural brightness of the evening, and the internal gloom of their
hearts, as the beams of the sun rested upon the ever-moving crowd,
would, to any man who knew the impetus with which the spirit of
religious hatred was soon to rage among them, produce novel and
singular sensations. For, after all Toby, there is a mysterious
connection between natural and moral things, which often invest both
nature and sentiment with a feeling that certainly would not come home
to our hearts if such a connection did not exist. A rose-tree beside
a grave will lead us from sentiment to ref