Hawksmoor

They are so hardened in this sort of Misery that they seek no other Life: from Beggaring they proceed to Theft, and from Theft to the Gallows. They know all the Arts of their dismal Trade, and tune their Voices to that Pitch which will raise Compassion with their God bless you Master and May Heaven reward you Master; Do you have a half-pe

When I was a Street-boy and slept in Holes and Corners I became acquainted with the miserable Shifts of this Life: in our great City there are whole Fraternities of them living together, for even these forlorn Wretches subsist with a sort of Order and Government among themselves.

They are indeed as perfect a Corporation as any Company in England -one scowrs one Street (as I observ'd at the time) and another another, none interloping on the Province, or Walk as they call it, that does not belong to them. They are a Society in Miniature, and will nurse up a brood of Beggars from Generation to Generation even until the World's end. And thus their place is by my Church: they are the Pattern of Humane life, for others are but one Step away from their Condition, and they acknowledge that the begi

I had gone to Limehouse in the afternoon to Survey for my self the south-western corner of the Foundacions which was afflicted by too much Dampnesse; I was musing upon this Matter, taking a Path towards the River, when I came close against the Settlement of Beggars which consisted of as many Ragged Regiments as ever I saw mustered together. I walked a little away from them, to get the Stink from my Nostrils, when I encountered by the side of a muddy Ditch a sad and meagre Fellow who kept his Head upon his Breast. When 1 stood beside him, my shaddowe stretching across his Face, he looked up at me and muttered as if by Rote, Good your Worship cast an Eye of Pity upon a poor decay'd Tradesman. He was reduced to the utmost Extremity, wearing nothing but old Shreds and Patches like a Stall in Rag-Fair.

What was your Trade? I asked him.

I was a Printer in Bristol, Master.

And you fell into Debts, and were forced to Break?

Alas, said he, the Disease that afflicts me is far different from what you conceeve of it, and is such as you ca

I was much taken with his Words, for he had come like a Bird into my Lime-House, and I sat my self down beside him. For a halfpe

This was his Wandring Life as he related it to me: He had set up in Trade in Bristol, but pritty soon he became attach'd to Brandy and Strong-water and let his Affairs slide; he remained continually at the Tavern where he was either drunk or ingaged in a quarrell, and left all his Business to his Wife who could not drive the Trade. Thus he became Insolvent and his Creditors, hearing of this, pressed upon him at so hard a Rate that he was in great fear of being taken by the Sergeant to the Kings-Bench: tho' he knew of no Warrant to apprehend him, nevertheless it was put into his Mind to flee (so great are the Bugbears that our own Guiltinesse creates); which course he took, leaving his Wife and Children who, bound to his Estate, were summarily brought into the Hazard. And have you seen them since that Time? I asked him. No, he replied, I see them only in my Mind's Eye and thus they haunt me.

He was a poor Wretch indeed, and a perfect Figure of that Necessity which puts a man to venture upon all ma

Thus it was with this sick Monkey before me, waiting to be tied to the Tree. I turned my Face upon him after this Recital of his Woes and whisper'd, How are you called? I am called Ned.

Well, go on, my Ned. And so, Master, I became this poor Dunghil you see before you.

And why did you come here? I am here I know not how, unless there be some Lodestone in that new Church yonder. In Bath I was brought to the Brink of Eternity; in Salisbury I was consum'd to a meer Sceleton; in Guildford I was given up for a Dead Man. Now I am here in Lime- house, and before this in the unlucky Isle of Dogs.

And how are you? I am mighty weary and sore in my Feet, and could wish the Earth might swallow me, Master.

And where will you go, if it be not under the Earth? Where can I go? If I leave here, I must come back.

Why do you look so Fearfully on me, Ned? I have a Swimming in the Head, Master. Last night I dreamed of riding and eating Cream.

You are very much a Child. I have become so. Well, it is too late to be sorry.

Do you mean there is no Hope? No, not any Hope now. I have no means of continuing.

And will you make an End of it? What End do I have but the Gallows?

Well, if I were in your case I would prefer self-murther to a Hanging.

At this he passionately flew out and said, How can you? But I put my Finger to his Cheek, to still its Motion, and his Storm soon blew over. He was mine, and as I spoke my Eyes were brisk and sparkling.

Better that you choose your own Occasion, and not be the Top whipp'd by 111 Fortune. Well, Master, I understand you and I know what you would have me do.

I speak nothing, but let you speak. And I know nothing, but what I suppose you would have me know. And yet I ca

You ca

You are past believing in the Old Wives Tales of Divines and Sermonisers, Ned. Your Body is all of you, and when that's done there's an End of it. And it is the End I have been seeking for this Poor Life. I am no thing now. I am undone.

The Night was coming on, being within half an Hour of Sunset, and the Light began to be dusky as I gave Ned my Knife. It grows Cold, said he. You will not be here so long, I replied, that it will freeze you. We walked together towards the Church, the work men now being gone to their Homes, and when Ned fell a'crying I bid him keep on: he was so poor a Bundle of Humanity that his Steps were but small and tottering, but at last I brought him to the brink of the Foundacions.

Then with his eyes wide and his arms across (one Hand clasping the Knife), he gazed upwards at my half completed Work as the Rays of the Su