'I mean this,' I replied, 'that in having punished my last expression of opinion as a crime, by bringing me here, it does not become you to put religious inquiries to me again.' He seemed confounded; and on this occasion I showed him, that while Christianity punished as crime the expression of dissentient opinions, Christians were disqualified from seeking the state of any man's thoughts with respect to religion. Unless one volunteers explanations, Christians have plainly no right to demand them. They put themselves out of the pale of ordinary privilege. Writing 'Paley Refuted' and the 'Short and Easy Method with the Saints'--a title suggested by 'Leslie's Short and Easy Method with the Deist,' another book put into my hands by the authorities--occupied me till the end of my imprisonment. On the 15th of February, 1843, I was liberated; and three days after (having paid visits of acknowledgment to my friends in Gloucester, Cheltenham, and Worcester) I rejoined (what I might then term the remains of) my family in Birmingham. CHAPTER IV. AFTER THE LIBERATION On rejoining my colleagues of the _Oracle of Reason_, I proceeded to issue an address to our readers. The substance of it, which was as follows, comprises some additional facts of my prison experience:-- 'My Friends,--It is now six months since cut and hacked, "I fell," not merely in the language of the parable but literally, "among thieves." Of those who caused that contact, I am afraid I must say, as William Hutton said of an untoward sweetheart--"There was little love between us at first, and heaven has been pleased to decrease it on a further acquaintance." Christians profess to draw men to Jesus with "cords of love," but were it not for their judicious foresight in telling us that they axe "cords of love," few would find it out. 'To friends in Gloucester,* Cheltenham, Birmingham, London,** and other places, I owe many thanks for what has been contributed for my support, and for that of my family, during my imprisonment. * To Gloucester two special acknowledgments are due. First to a young lady, the niece of the Innkeeper, in whose house I resided, when awaiting Trial, both at the sessions and assises. With no other knowledge of me than these occasions afforded, and with no prepossession in favour of my opinions, but simply from that generous sympathy women often display, she frequently brought me refreshments to the gaol, and was a medium of communication with my friends, and often answered inquiries of my family which the restrictions of the gaol sometimes rendered it impossible for me even to know. In the romance of incident, she afterwards became the wife of my friend Mr. Chilton. The other instance was that of Mrs. Price, a woman in humble circumstances, who, during the latter part of my imprisonment, brought me dinner every Sunday. Both Mrs. Price and her husband were utterly unknown to me.