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 was really turn'd wayward and poſſeſs'd: And no Wonder, if they, who were poreing continually at the Clouds, ſaw Shapes and Figures, Repreſentations and Appearances, which had nothing in them, but Air and Vapour. Here they told us, they ſaw a Flaming-Sword held in a Hand, coming out of a Cloud, with a Point hanging directly over the City, There they ſaw Herſes, and Coffins in the Air, carrying to be buried. And there again, Heaps of dead Bodies lying unburied, and the like; juſt as the Imagination of the poor terrify'd People furniſh'd them with Matter to work upon.

So Hypocondriac Fancy's repreſent

Ships, Armies, Battles, in the Firmament;

Till ſteady Eyes, the Exhalations ſolve,

And all to its firſt Matter, Cloud, reſolve.

I could fill this Account with the ſtrange Relations, ſuch People gave every Day, of what they had ſeen; and every one was ſo poſitive of their having ſeen, what they pretended to ſee, that there was no contradicting them, without Breach of Friendſhip, or being accounted rude and unmannerly on the one Hand, and prophane and impenetrable on the other. One time before the Plague was begun, (otherwiſe than as I have ſaid in St. Giles's,) I think it was in March, ſeeing a Crowd of People in the Street, I join'd with them to ſatiſfy my Curioſity, and found them all ſtaring up into the Air, to ſee what a Woman told them appeared plain to her, which was an Angel cloth'd in white, with a fiery Sword in his Hand, waving it, or brandiſhing it over his Head. She deſcribed every Part of the Figure to the Life; ſhew'd them the Motion, and the Form; and the poor People came into it ſo eagerly, and with ſo much