Following is a quote from the Journal where H. F. struggles to decide if he should stay in the city or flee the Plague :

My Brother, tho' a very Religious Man himself, laught at all I had suggested about its being an Intima-tion from Heaven, and told me several Stories of such fool-hardy People, as he call'd them, as I was; that I ought indeed to submit to it as a Work of Heaven, if I had been any way disabled by Distempers or Diseases, and that then not being able to go, I ought to acquiesce in the Direction of him, who having been my Maker, had an undisputed Right of Soveraignty in disposing of me; and that then there had been no Difficulty to deter-mine which was the Call of the Providence, and which was not: But that I should take it as an Intimation from Heaven, that I should not go out of Town, only because I could not hire a Horse to go, or my Fellow was run away that was to attend me, was ridiculous, since at the same Time I had my Health and Limbs, and other Ser-vants, and might, with Ease, travel a Day or two on foot, and having a good certificate of being in perfect Health, might either hire a Horse, or take Post on the Road, as I thought fit. [end quote]

H. F. describing the common place of death during the time of the Plague:

London might well be said to be all in Tears; the Mourners did not go about the Streets indeed, for no Body put on black, or made a for-mal Dress of Mourning, for their nearest Friends; but the Voice of Mourning was truly heard in the Streets; the shriecks of Women and Children at the Windows, and Doors of their Houses, where their dearest Rela-tions were, perhaps dying, or just dead, were so frequent to be heard, as we passed the Streets, that it was enough to pierce the stoutest Heart in the World, to hear them. Tears and Lamentations were seen almost in every House, especially in the first Part of the Visitation; for towards the latter End, Mens Hearts were hardned, and Death was so always before their Eyes, that they did not so much concern themselves for the Loss of their Friends, expecting, that themselves should be sum-moned the next Hour.[end quote]

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Conscience may lash us, but it cannot replenish a languishing life. Conscience may be God's word and minister to you, telling you of your faults and your follies and your destitution. It may point out, but it will never supply you. Christ must give you new life. Hart has well expressed it: "He to the feeble and the faint, His mighty aid makes known; and when their languid life is spent, supplies it with His own." - J. K. Popham