Journal of the Plague Year

continued, by a Gentleman

Once more the beſt Plans of civiliſed Men are layed waſte and made but Piffle before the Guſts of Fortune, as the hiſtorick international Diplomacy of our noble Prime Miniſter is ſeized by the Throat, laid by the Heels and ſtabbed in the Backe by the inſidious Treacherouſneſs of the Woo Han Peſtilence. No ſooner had our great Leader departed theſe inviolable Shores, intent upon his ſacred redeeming Miſsion of Britiſhneſs to divide and conquer our Continental Foes by means of his unpretentious Latin Charm and stateſmanlike Way with the Fillies, than the Heathen Plague hath once more ſtruck with renewed and fanatick Virulence, to the incalculable Detriment of our economick Health. It is calculated by my Lord Nyce-Whyteskynne, of the Miniſtry for Imported Labour, that up to ſeventy thouſand Peaſants, Loafers, Idlers, Seamſtreſses, Waſtrels, Coſtermongers, Whores and other Beaſts of Burden have dyed this paſt Quarter, with correſponding Loſses in their Capacities for commercial Productivity. Even if our Overſeers in the Weſt Indies could prevail upon the Witch-doctors to raiſe the dead Niggers and put them to uſefull Work by means of their Voodoo Sorceries, the Repair of the fiſcal Diſcrepancies would be the Work of ſeverall Yeares. Yet ſtill the upſtart Peſtilence perſiſts in kicking us while we are downe, as though the Rules of gentlemanly Diſpute were ſome Thing ineffably ſtrange to its Heathen Apprehenſion. It is a moſt vexatious Conundrum, that the Anglican Lord of Heaven and Earth ſhould unleaſh ſuch Chaſtiſement upon the Heads of His Choſen, as if an Engliſhman of the true Faith were no better than a Chriſt-killiing Citizen of Nowhere.