This has been a harassing and eventful day. Early in the morning,
before the high mass, whereat the neighbourhood is generally present,
I received a missive from the sheriff, bidding me, in the name of the
King, to exhort my people to remain at home tonight, since danger is
afoot, and there is likely, he says, to be a rising on the part of the
pagans who dwell amongst us. Why, they are but one in five in this
neighbourhood; hardly that. I determined to give the message in my own
way, for I could not keep silent, lest, through fault of mine, any of
my sheep should perish. So I preached upon the Saint of the day, who
was pre-eminently a man of peace, and I took occasion to tell my
people that there were many hurtful men about, who, like their master,
Satan, were seeking whom they might devour, and that, like that
master, they chose the night for their misdeeds, seeing they loved
darkness rather than light. So I said I hoped every good Christian
would keep at home, and go to bed early.

At this point I observed a sarcastic smile upon many faces, notably on
those of the black sheep aforesaid, to whom the sheriff had spoken,
and I concluded that they were very likely to be the ministers of
darkness themselves. So I spoke on the Christian duties of love and
forgiveness, and exhorted all present to take joyfully the
chastisement of the Lord, even like holy Job; and that it would all
tend to their eternal good, through Him who, when He was reviled,
reviled not again. And so with this exhortation to patience I closed
my homily. I fear I spoke to many in vain.

I am sure they are bent on immediate mischief, and that this notice of
the sheriff has much to do with it. He wants to keep good people at
home to have all the field to himself. I see him--the black
bellwether.